ARTAMENES, OR THE GRAND CYRUS, AN EXCELLENT NEW ROMANCE.  
Written by that famous Wit of FRANCE, MONSIEUR de SCUDERY Governor of NOTRE DAME.  
And now ENGLISHED by F. G. Gent.  
LONDON, Printed for HUMPHREY MOSELEY at the Prince's Arms in S. Paul's Churchyard, and THOMAS DRING at the George in Fleetstreet. 1653.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE AND MOST PERFECTLY NOBLE, THE LADY ANNE LUCAS.  
MADAM,  
IF I thought this but an ordinary Romance, I would not presume to bring it under your Honour's Protection. 'Twas Dedicated by the Author to the Duchess of Longueville and to others of the greatest Nobility of France: I have chosen to inscribe it only to your Ladyship, because You comprehend all those excellencies which are shed and scattered in other single Persons. But I humbly beg pardon for presenting a Translation to You who so perfectly command the Original. Were it a Discourse of the most profound Learning that Humane Nature is capable of, and written in Greek or Hebrew, I would make its Dedication to your Noble Lord, who is acknowledged (by those that have the honour to know him) so to have Mastered all the Learned Sciences and Languages, that it is no easy task to find His Equal, not only among those of His own noble Order, but among them whose Profession hath obliged them to be Scholars: Though all His Learning (accompanied with the highest Fortitude of Body and Mind) dwells in such eminent Candour and Meekness, as is only paralleled by the like in your Ladyship. For if those rare Virtues which adorn your excellent Soul can admit of Degrees, 'tis because your Modesty is Transcendent over the rest. I confess (Madam) since I had Relation to this Book, I desired to be as kind to it as I could, and I knew no better way to promote its good, than by entit'ling your Ladyship to it. What more particularly concerns this Edition, I shall tell to the Reader. Here I shall only say, that those who have read it conceive it written with so much Wit and noble Passion, that the Wisest Understanding, that is your Ladyships, may be seen to peruse it, which was a great Motive why now it is presented, by  
MADAM, Your Honour's most humble and most obedient servant. HUM: MOSELEY.   

THE STATIONER TO THE READER.  
I Shall waste no time to tell you how this Book hath sold in France where it was born: since nothing falls from Monsieur de Scudery's hand, but is received there as an unquestionable piece, by all that have a Taste of Wit or Honour. The Translator hath inserted no false stitches of his own, having only turned the wrong side of the Arras towards us, for all Translations (you know) are no other. I have brought you also our Author ' s Illustrious Bassa, which the late famed Author of Cassandra and Cleopatra preferred before his own; whereupon our Author (for his dead Friend's sake) hath taken a resolution to perfect Cleopatra, as soon as he hath finished his own Grand Cyrus. But first you must show what welcome you afford to This and his Bassa, else you are not like to enjoy the remainder. If you ask why this should have any Precedence before other Romances, 'tis soon answered, that our Author in this hath so laid his Scenes, as to touch upon the greatest Affairs of our Times: for, Designs of War and Peace are better hinted and cut open by a Romance, than by downright Histories; which, being barefaced, are forced to be often too modest and sparing; when these disguised Discourses, freely personating every man and no man, have liberty to speak out. And though this hath so many Turns and Changes (which is its peculiar Beauty) yet thereby it is not made dark and Cloudy, but is every where Cyrus, that is, a bright Sun, for so the word signifies in the Persian Tongue, as well as in Hebrew. Perhaps you would know what Cyrus this is, whether the first Great Cyrus who founded the Persian Empire (whose life you have in Herodotus, Solinus, & Justin) or that other second Cyrus, whose Institution and Expedition is so well writ by Xenophon: Be pleased to know, 'Tis neither of them, and yet both; for our Author hath drained all the Excellencies of both those Two to fill and accomplish this his Grand Cyrus. Some literal Errata the Printer is guilty of, especially in the First Part, where from pag. 26. to pag. 50. he hath misprinted Part II. (on the head of each page) for Part I. And the like in the Second Part, pag. 154. 156. 162. 174. 184. 190. 192. 194. 206. on all which pages he hath set Part III. for Part II. 'Tis the Printer's fault, and he ought to hear of it. And I tell you now of it, because we intent no second Impression; so that if you wave this Edition, you are like to have none. Some may possibly quarrel with the Beginning, as too Sudden and Abrupt, rushing on Sinope as all on fire without any Introduction. But such may know, our Author professedly did it on purpose, for the subsequent Story clears it up to be so. And those are strangers to Mounsieur de Scudery, who know not he is Master of Judgement and Learning as well as Wit.  
Farewell. H. M.   

ARTAMENES: OR CYRUS the Great.  

BOOK I.  
THE Conflagration of Sinope was so great, that the very sky, the Sea, the valleys and tops of Mountains though far remote, were all illuminated by its flames: so, that notwithstanding the black mask of night, all things might mournfully be discerned: never was object more terrible to Spectators then this; Twenty Ships might be seen burning all at once in the Port; which though floating in the midst of water, did belch up flames as high as Clouds: these affrighting flames, being blown by the bellows of an impetuous wind, did oft times wend toward the Town; and as if but one huge faggot were set on fire, seemed to consume it all. They flashed from place to place in an instant; and there was scarce one Quarter in all the Town, which by a dire communication did not feel its fury. All the Tackling, Cordage and Sails being set on fire, flew horridly into the air, and fell down again in sparks upon the houses, which being thus consumed, are forced to yield unto this merciless Element, and tumble down in those Streets, unto which they were before an Ornament. The hideous multitude of flames which streamed through several streets, and which had more or less fury, according to the subject upon which they seized, did seem to Combat one with another, by reason of the whirling wind which countermoved them; sometimes mingling together, sometimes parting, as if they did dispute about the Glory of destroying this stately Town. Amidst these Lightning flames, one might behold whole Clouds of smoke, which by their dismal dusky colour, did add much terror to this doleful spectacle: Also, the great abundance of sparks (of which we spoke before) whistling up and down the Town, like inflamed storms of Hail, was doubtless most horn, to all beholders. Near this confused combustion, there was a Castle, seated at the lower end of the Town, built upon the top of a sturdy Rock, which did shoot itself into the Sea; unto this, the flames had yet not reached, but did every moment threaten it, because the violent wind did waft that way: It was likely, the fire would first seize upon the Gate thereof, because the houses near it, were most inflamed, and nearest ruin. In the midst of these fiery flames, one might perceive some Churches and great stone houses, which gave more resistance than the rest, and retained so much only as might testify the Magnificence of their structure, and move Compassion for their inevitable ruin. In short, this terrible Element devoured all, or at least seemed so near it, that the sad sight of such a dismal chance, did move both terror and compassion in all beholders.  
The Amorous Artamenes, in the head of four thousand men, marching out of a low valley, covered with a thick wood, was much surprised with wonder at this dreadful object, and seemed so amazed, that he was not able to express his wonder by his words: He looked, upon the Town, viewed the Gate, he cast his eyes upon the Sea, which seemed all fire by reflection from the Clouds; he gazed upon the Mountain tops, and saw all the plains plainly; he lifted up his eyes to Heaven; he had not power either to speak, or go any further, as if he were unsatisfied whether what he saw was real, or else but a delusion of his fantasy. Hidaspes, Chrisantes, Aglatidas, Araspes and Feraulas, did see this fatal flame, but though they were near him durst not so much as look upon him. Artamenes, turning his Horse on to a little higher ground, did from thence perfectly perceive, that this Town, which so burned, was the very same which he intended to surprise that very night; and according to his provident Intelligence, brought hopes with him to relieve his Princess, which the King of Assiria there detained a Prisoner. He being thus extremely transported with Passion, began to expostulate with the Gods; Is it possible, said he, you can be so cruel and unjust, as to Consent unto the Loss of the fairest Princess that ever was? and that you should Predestinate her ruin, at that very instant, when I undoubtedly resolved her safety? In saying this, he advanced a little forward; none but Chrisantes and Feraulas followed him; Alas my Friends (said he, beginning to gallop, and commanding the rest to follow) how Lamentable are my Destinies? and unto what a dismal spectacle have they brought me? Come follow, follow me my friends, and let us die in the same flames which have seized upon my illustrious Princess; Can it be (did he suggest unto himself) that these flames which now I behold, dare offer to destroy my most adored Mandana? But why do I say, can it be? No, no, alas, it is too too true be doubted: The Gods I see have kindled too great a fire for her to escape it; had it been their pleasure to have preserved her, surely they would have Pumped up the waves of the Sea, to Quench the flames; and never have permitted her to incur this danger: But alas, said he, most injurious Rival: Canst thou endeavour thine own safety, more than hers? has not thy unworthiness caused her destruction? If I did behold my divine Princess (said he in turning towards Chrisantes,) in the hands of a Tirantique Prince who was in the head of a hundred thousand men, ready to sacrifice her before my eyes, I should not apprehend so much despair as now; for then I should have an enemy before me which I might assault, though not vanquish; but here I have nothing to do in the world, but to throw myself into these flames which have consumed my Princess. After these expressions, he passed silently on, a little farther, and seeing none near which could understand, but Chrisantes, he violently broke thus into passion: 〈◊〉 Heavens, said he, am not I accessary to the death of my dearest Princess? Is it not for the affection that she bears unto me, that she herself hath caused this Conflagration, rather than she would fail in her fidelity to me, the unfortunate Artamenes? But oh ye Gods, if it b 〈…〉 en I do confess I have deserved all my misfortunes, and am worthy of my worst resentments: Chrisantes, seeing him stand stock still in a silent melancholy posture, drew near him, and endeavoured to cheer him up: But then Artamenes, going on, and looking back with so sad an aspect as might move compassion out of insensible stones, said unto him, No, no, Chrisantes, such disasters as these are not capable of any Consolations, There is no way for me but one, and that I'll immediately take: yet this poor comfort remains, that the same fire which consumed both my Princess, and my Corrival, which mixed both her innocency and his crime together, and which deprived me, both of the object of my hate, and of my Love, shall also destroy me for company, and mingle the Ashes of my adored Princess, with mine together: In speaking this, all the signs of absolute despair appeared in his face: his tone was sadly mournful, and all his actions seemed preparations for present death. Day now began to dawn; the Sun's approach did somewhat mitigate the horror of the accident: the Sea, the valleys, the Mountains, assume again their natural colours; and the Face of this sad Scene, seemed something to change complexion. Feraulas, observed two remarkable passages, and hinted unto his Master. Sr (said he) Do you not discover a Galley in the Sea, which strives with all its power to Row from this unfortunate Town? And do you again observe, how every one endeavours to extinguish, those flames which flash towards the great Tower, that is over the Portall of the Castle? I do observe them both (answered Artamenes;) Certainly (said Chrisantes) these are infallible signs, that the Princess is not yet perished, but may happily be preserved, either in this Galley, or that Tower which the flames have not yet touched: Alas (cried out Artamenes suddenly,) I should be happy, and begin to breathe some hopes again if this were so. By this time they were approached near the Town, where he discovered many men, striving to stop the fire from catching hold of the Tower. Bestir thyself (cried he out, and mended his pace,) most unhappy Rival, and endeavour the safety of our Princess: Assure thyself, that if thou dost preserve her from this danger, I will forgive thee all the Injuries thou hast done me. This Prince did not continue long in the same resentments; for one while he was all Prayers and Vows in behalf of his Mistress; another while all Curses and Imprecations against his Rival. Presently after, Looking upon the Galley, and discovering some Women upon the Deck, he was then in an ecstasy of Joy. But upon second thoughts, considering that though the Princess were one of these upon the Deck, yet as to him she was for ever lost; then he began to reassume his first despair: Afterward, when he viewed the Tower, and observed how the Sea and the Fire did wholly environ it, and that happily his Princess might be in it, than he changed his apprehensions, and gave order, that those Troops which came to destroy the Town, should now preserve it, and help to extinguish the flames. Artamenes being in no disposition to go back again, sent Feraulas, to take Command of his Men, and to march speedily after, him. Coming near the Town, they found the Air very fiery hot, and heard such hideous noise, that none but Artamenes himself would enter the roaring of the Sea, the rumbling of the Wind, the flashing of the flames; all these, added to the horrid noise of whole houses tumbling, which were shaken into heaps of earth; the lamentable complaint of living, and the cruel cries of dying men; all these dismal dinns, which were answered by an Echo from the Mountains, did make a most mournful and horrid harmony, if I may call a sound so full of sad confusion, a harmony: But all this could not divert the intentions of Artemenes: For he being now near the Town, and all his men drawn up in a body, he addressed himself, and spoke unto them, in these winning words: Imagine, my fellow Soldiers, that it is I which is in that Tower; that it is I myself who am at the very brink of perishing, between fire and water, and that it is I whom you come to save: Or to express myself a little better: Imagine a say that your King, your Princess, your wives, your fathers and your children, were all enclosed within this Tower, and with Artamenes ready to perish; let all these dear relations rouse up your spirits unto a gallant deportment: you must (my Companions) do as never yet was done; you must destroy your enemies, and yet, you must save them: you must fight against them with one hand, and save them with the other: In sum, you must attempt all manner of ways to preserve that Princess who may be your Queen, and deserves to be so of the whole world. After this, Chrisantes, Araspes, Aglatidas and Hidaspes, who had each of them the Command of a thousand Men, came unto Artamenes to receive their ultimate Orders: Feraulas was admitted unto Council, who was no mean agent in the business; who also had transacted for Intelligence within Sinope, and unto whom Artucas had promised to deliver up a Port of the Town, that same night. Feraulas gave his vote, that it were expedient to proceed in the very same manner, as if the Town were not on fire, and without any further Inquisition, to march strait unto the Gate by Mars his Temple; because, said he, if perchance this accident has not put the whole Town into a general disorder, we may perhaps find resistance at any other place; it being always a Custom upon such accidents to double their Guards, lest the fire should proceed from some design of their enemies; whereas, on the contrary, if you proceed this way, we are sure to find no opposition; for if Artucas and his Complices be not all consumed in fire, we shall certainly have their assistance; and although they should be all perished, yet we are certain to find none in that place to obstruct our passage. This advice was good, and sounded all reason. Afterwards it was put to the Question, What Course was most Commodious whereby to gain the foot of the Tower. Aglatidas observed the fire to cease on that side of the Gate, because the Ships being sooner consumed then the houses, it must therefore consequently follow, that the fire must soon cease there also; therefore he conceived it the most convenient course, to take the way of the Port, because than they should have but one side to guard, and because that also this way was the easiest to go unto the foot of the Tower. Artamenes, who thought each minute an age till he was there, would contradict nothing, lest he should lose time; he marched himself first, and gave command through the Army, to divulge it about the Town, how he had no other design in coming thither, but to preserve the Princess; inducing the People thereby, to refuse resistance, and not impede his plot. They all begin to march; Feraulas guided Artemenes (who was like the rest, on foot,) unto the Gate by Mars his Temple: and there they found him whom they sought for, who was in such despair of Artamenes coming (for this sad sight had much retarded him) that he was careless whether he threw himself into the flames, or lived any longer. He no sooner spied them he longed for, but he caused the Gates immediately to fly open. The Guards at the place were very thin, for maugre his commands, most of his men ran away to see in what condition the fire had left their houses, their wives, their fathers, and their children: so that they found no great difficulty in becoming masters of that Guard; yet they found enough to do in defending themselves from fire. Artamenes, in marching through the inflamed streets, exposed himself unto extraordinary danger, and was many times in hazard to being overwhelmed with falling fiery houses: though the object was terrible to him when he was without the Town, yet it seemed much more horrid when he was within: they marched with Swords in their right hands, and Bucklers in their left; they had hotter service in preserving themselves from burning coals, which continually tumbled upon their heads, then from the Darts of their enemies. Upon the unexpected arrival of Artamenes, all they who survived within the Town, did begin to double their lamentations and amazement: Many of the Grandees who before were busy in quenching the fire of their own houses, did quit that charitable office, and endeavoured to muster into Arms, to make some resistance; but alas, neither Arms, nor Captains, nor Soldiers, nor any thing fit for opposition, can be found in so confused a disorder: In some places, men were pulling down their own houses to preserve their neighbours: others threw their Plate, their Jewels, and their richest things out at windows, in hopes thereby of saving something: Mothers without any care of goods, or houses, or any thing, might be seen running about the streets with hair burned off their heads, and nothing left, unless in either arm a Child. In short, the sight was so sad and terrible, that if Artamenes had not been so transported as he was, with vehemency of passion, doubtless he would have stopped his course, to have succoured them, so worthy were they of pity, and so sensible was he of their misery. Nevertheless he marched on: the report of his Arrival was every where divulged: Aribees, the Governor of Sinope (who used his endeavours to prevent the fires catching hold of the Tower, and who upon this occasion had rallied most of the men and Soldiers which survived) was at his wit's end, and involved into such anxieties of mind, that he knew not whether was most expedient, to fight Artamenes, or to quench the flames; for thus he argued; What will all my services advantage the King of Assiria, though I should get the victory, whilst he in the mean time is ruined by the enraging flames: on the contrary, what should I get by quenching the fire, whilst in the mean time I am taken a Prisoner by Artamenes? ay, who am his mortal foe; I who betrayed the King my Master; I who transacted the conveyance away of the Princess his daughter; I who moved the People to revolt: No, no, let us fight with Artamenes, who is as terrible to the King of Assiria, as fire, or flames, or any thing else can be; let us provide for our preservation that way: In saying so, he gave command, that all they who were quenching fire, and with engines pulling down the fired houses, should now take up Arms, and those men who had none, to provide them with all speed, and take them where ere they found them; let fire rather hurt their houses then not succour him. When Artamenes had passed through a great part of this pitiful Town, and marching along the Port, he came unto the foot of the Tower; did wonder to see none quenching the flames, and was amazed when he saw Aribees with resolutions to fight him: What (cried he out) do I come to quench the fire, and must I now hinder it from being extinguished? No, no, my friends, it must not be; Upon that he gave command that some of his men should help to extinguish the fire, whilst with the rest he fought with those whose office it was to have done it: When all was thus ordered, he advanced towards the main body of his enemy, in the head of which was Aribees. Artamenes, turning his eye towards the top of the Tower, there espied the King of Assiria, who seemed to be in a very desperate condition, as if he were indifferent whether he cast himself into the flames, or Sea. This sight confirmed Artamenes in his opinion, that his Princess was alive, and therefore he gave second orders of quenching the fire: then he marched with the rest and charged his enemy; who received him with great and desperate resolutions: so soon as they joined, he got sight of their General. Aribees (said he aloud) I come not to fight but to punish thee: the fault shall be thy own, if I do not procure thee a Pardon from the King of Medes, upon Condition thou wilt cease Arms, and help to preserve thy Princess and mine. But Aribees who thought his Crimes too great to be pardoned, in lieu of Answer, did run at him with his drawn Sword, and began a fight in the midst of fire: the fight was more terrible to him then the fire; for blows fell from an invincible arm, in whom Love, hate and revenge, did kindle more then accustomed valour at this time, although he was ever the most valiant man alive. Hidaspes, Artucas, Chrisantes, Aglatides and Araspes, drew near Artamenes: as for Feraulas, his orders were to quench the fire. The King of Assyria all this while did not once behold, that which would produce his safety or his sorrow, his weal or his woe, and would either lose his life or kill his enemy. Artamenes casting up his eye often towards the Tower, said to himself, I should be infinitely happy, if my Princess did but see what I do to preserve her: were I certain that she were an eye-witness, either of my victory or of my death, I should desire no more. Mean while, the fight was furious: in the midst of fight, Artamenes mind was much upon Feraulas, and his orders in quenching the fire: In conclusion he undertook a single Combat with Aribees, 〈◊〉 amidst all this confusion, which indeed was an act too opinionative and hazardous; for though this Traitor had to deal with the Gallantest of Men, yet despair might by chance have done that in him, which true valour might do in the other: yet for all this Artamenes fought full of hopes, and was confident that after this, there was nothing but a few walls between him and his Princess. Indeed his acts were Miracles; he slew all that stood in his way, and wounded Aribees in so many places, that in conclusion he had no other resolutions but to render himself, if upon a sudden an inflamed house had not fall'n upon the place of Combat, so that Aribees was covered with its ruin'd rubbish; and all men thought he had perished both by fire and sword, as deserving double punishment for his perfidious rebellion. Artamenes also, who though he had received but few wounds from his Antagonist, yet thought himself in a dangerous state, when he was surrounded with flames and smak; and certainly, had he not shielded his head with his Helmet, he had inevitably perished: his Coat of Arms was burnt, and a thousand to one but he had been smothered in this adventure. The fall of this house did raise so thick a dust, a smoke so black, and a cloud of sparks so fiery, that for a long time nothing could be discerned upon the place. That which most vexed Artamenes in this accident was, that Aribees, who was upon the very point of submission, had retreated forty or fifty paces, and thereby escaped his revenge; Artamenes touched him with the point of his sword, but by a miracle of fortune miss him, and now found no enemy amidst these fatal ruins. After this accident, all they who had dependence upon Aribees, were all amazed and fled. But this Hero Artamenes runs after them, and cries aloud, that he came with intentions to save, and not to hurt them: In conclusion, he persuaded them, to lay down Arms and trust unto the word of a Conqueror, who heretofore had given testimonies of his Generosity; and so in a short time, all seemed to be on one side. Artamenes encouraging his men, did show them by example what they should do, and himself quenched the fire. All the people wondered to find so charitable an enemy: his Soldiers pulled down houses with their engines of Artillery: they did employ their Bucklers and Helmets in carrying water to throw upon the fire. In short, they neglected nothing which might be thought expedient in the business. Every Captain did admirably demean himself in this encounter; amongst the rest, Aglatidas seemed rather to fight for death then victory, so courageously did he expose himself unto the fury of the fight and fire: Mean while, Artamenes seeing the fire decrease, was infinitely transported with joy and hope to see his dearest and fairest Princess. She is (said he in his heart,) within this Tower, and if▪ be not the most unfortunate wretch that ever lived, I shall presently bless my eyes with a sight of her, my most adored Princess. I may chance have the honour from her own lips to be termed her Liberator; and now I hope to see both the object of my Love and of my hate. The fire is now extinguished and he approached under the walls of the Tower; he gave orders to secure all advenues and Ports of the Town: as he began to demolish the walls of this Tower, not yet knowing whether he should meet with any opposition, he espied a man of good handsome deportment, who opened the Gate unto him, and in lieu of disputing his entrance (which indeed he had done, had he not known Artemenes from the battlements of the Tower) he reverently addressed himself, and in a passionate manner said; Sr, if the Name of Thrasibulus be not quite forgotten, do him the honour to use all your endeavours to prevent the ruin of a most illustrious Person, of whose safety we shall utterly despair, unless your timous assistance help it. Artamenes supposed it to be the Princess who was in some extremity, and therefore did not insist upon the nicety of Ceremonies with Thrasibulus, whom he presently knew by his voice: Come along my old Conqueror (said he to him,) let us haste to relieve this illustrious person. As soon as ever he had uttered these words, he ran hastily up the stairs, and many followed; among the rest Hidaspes, Chrisantes, Aglatides, Thrasibulus and Feraulus: but they all, except Thrasibulus, wondered, to see no Soldiers in the Tower, nor in any other place of the fort: Araspes by order from Artamenes stayed at the Gates, to prevent surprisals: Artamenes was so transported with desires of seeing the Princess, that he was at the top of the Tower before the rest; but, O Heavens, how sadly he was surprised with amazement, when in lieu of the Princess, he found none but the King of Assiria, who was his Rival, and Ravisher of the Princess, also his utter enemy? an unarmed enemy, sunk in sorrows: Artamenes turned toward Thrasibulus, and asked him, if this was his illustrious Person he meant: he seeing all the Company following with desire to come unto the top of the Tower, and considering with himself, that his discourse with the King of Assiria would not be fit for all public ears, beckoned unto them to retire: Then he asked where the Princess was, imagining she might be in some lower room of the Fort; but he was much more surprised with wonder, when the King of Assiria said unto him, You see Artamenes, a Prince more unfortunate than yourself, since he is the cause both of your disasters and his own. You may see (said he, showing him the Galley which was not yet far off, by reason of contrary wind) another Ravisher of your Princess more guilty than myself, because he professed amity and friendship unto him, whereas I never gave you the least hope of any Love from me. What (cried out Artamenes in looking upon the Galley, and not regarding his enemy) is not the Princess here in your Power? No, no, answered the King of Assiria sighing) the Prince Mazares, that most perfidious Mazares, has Ravished her both from me and you, and hath robbed you of the glory of your Victory; but since you cannot satisfy your Love in seeing your Princess, satisfy your hate, and take a full revenge upon me your Rival enemy: you see, I am not in condition to oppose you; I was resolved, as soon as this Galley was out of sight, since I could not follow it, to cast myself either into the flames or Sea, and so finish my misfortunes, rather than fall into the hand of you my Rival enemy. The enemies of Artamenes (answered this generous and sad Prince,) have never any cause to fear him but when they have Arms in their hands. The Condition in which I find you, is your umbrage from the heat of my anger, and preserves you from the fury of my resentments. After these words, poor Artamenes was so sadded with sorrow, as never man was more. He sees his Princess, Ravished away the second time, but cannot follow, since all the Ships were consumed, so that there appears no possibility of relief or revenge upon this second Ravisher. He looks upon his first Rival Ravisher, and sees him in his Power, but sees him unarmed, and without any design but death. Artamenes has now no heart, he sees his disasters are without either parallel or remedy; he had sometimes some thoughts (had not the generosity of his soul stayed him) of satisfying his revenge upon his Rival, and sometimes upon himself: he was so surrounded with sorrow and anxious cogitations, as he neither knew what he should or what he would do. Presently he heard the King of Assiria say, I see Artamenes, Fortune is your good friend, and the very winds are obedient unto your wishes, in blowing back the Galley to the shore, so that happily you may safely receive your Princess again. Artamenes looking toward the Sea, did plainly perceive the Galley was forced by contrary winds so near back again, that Women might perfectly be discovered upon the deck; and might easily see how Saylors tugged with all their strength, to part the violence of the waves, keeping themselves as far from Land as they could by force of oar. At this sight Joy might be seen to sparkle in the eyes of Artamenes; but as for the King of Assiria, sad sorrow and despair seemed to be all his hopes; knowing well enough that though the favourable wind did waft▪ the Galley safe into the Port, yet the sweetness of that fortune would be all Artamenes, and not his; yet he cheered up himself with hope of seeing Mazares punished. I hope you will permit me (said he to Artamenes,) that if it be the pleasure of the Gods to make you happy, in safely restoring you the Princess,) to save you the labour of punishing this Ravisher: be pleased, but to allow me Combat with him, and furnish me with a Sword, and I will promise you, that immediately after my revenging victory, I will force it through my own heart: by this means I shall permit you to enjoy that Happiness quietly, which as long as life is in me I shall always disturb. This Revenge must I reserve unto myself (replied Artamenes) yet in consideration of that respect which I bear unto the King of Assiria and his misfortunes, I will deprive myself of that satisfaction which I could find in revenging myself upon his own Rivalship: But as for Mazares, I must reserve the punishment of his perfidious fact unto myself. After this, these two Rivals, without any more memory of old hate, applied themselves to observe the Galley, both wishing Happiness to the Princess, and Curses upon the Ravisher, as if both of them had one and the same interest. This object had such pleasing influence, upon their eyes, their spirits, and their imaginations, as that now they seem to be very good friends. But in conclusion they see the Sea begin to change colour, the winds rise, the waves boisterous, sometimes tossing up the Galley as high as Clouds, and sometimes bulging it to the bottom of the Sea with its surges. This sad sight, had likewise the same effect upon both their minds, and moves them equally unto Passion; Artamenes looked upon the King of Assiria with an unexpressable sadness, and the King of Assiria looked upon Artamenes, with a face full of black despair; the equality of their misfortunes did suspend all their cogitations: and they apprehended all that Love could possibly imagine dolorous and resentive. They saw, if the wind continued where it was, that the Galley would be driven against the foot of that Tower wherein they were, and so dash all in pieces; so that now they begin to fear what before they desired, wishing the winds would now second the Prayers of the Ravisher, and blow them far from Land: Mean while, the storm increaseth, and according to the ordinary capricious inconstance of the Sea, a whirlwind, did upon a sudden so intershock the waves, as the Galley was carried far from the Town with incredible celerity, so that these two Rivals lost the sight of it, and with it all their hopes and their hearts. What fears of shipwreck these two illustrious, but improsperous Princes, did resent, is not imaginable. Fain they would exclude Mazares out of their Prayers for Mandana; but rather than she should want a wish of safety, they pray for both, and repent them of their first desires. Now, when that object, which before did take up their passionate resentment of each other, was out of sight, they began to conceive of one another as two Rivals and two enemies. Artamenes was upon departure, with intentions of committing the King of Assiria into safe custody, when the King began to speak thus unto him: I know Artamenes, that your Birth and Quality is equal unto mine; I am sure of it by infallible and most certain grounds: I do retain much Confidence in your Generosity, of which I have had so much experience, and of which, mangre my hate, I have been a long (though tacit) admirer. Therefore I will both believe and hope, that you will not deny me one favour which I shall desire. As you are my Rival (said Artamenes) I should deny you all your desires; but as you are the King of Assiria, I can deny you nothing, so it be not prejudicial unto the King whom I serve, nor his Daughter whom I adore; and be confident, I will deny nothing which will not wound my Honour or my Love: I oblige myself unto it by the word of a Man, whom you say is not inferior unto yourself, although it pass not so in the opinion of the World: Demand then what you please, but first consider well with yourself, lest, against my will you should provoke me to a denial. The King of Assiria, as soon as Artamenes had said so, replied: I know that I am in your power, and you may transfer me into the hands of Ciaxares; I know again it will be of much advantage unto him, to get that King unto his fetters, a great part of whose Kingdom he hath Conquered: But I know you too Noble to triumph over me, or to insult over your Captive Rival; whom you cannot choose but know to be a Man of Soul, since he hath measured his Sword with yours: Suffer me therefore, to have so much Honour as to Contribute my endeavours towards the Punishment of our Common enemy, and of Releasing the Princess: And I do oblige myself by Promise, that if it please the Destinies to be so propitious unto me, as that I shall find out the illustrious Mandana, yet I will never transact any thing unto your prejudice, until first the fate of Arms in Duel, have decided our Fortunes: I confess Artamenes (said he further) that my request is something difficult, yet if your soul be not capable of any but easy things, I shall conceive you unworthy to be my Corrival, 'Tis true (replied Artamenes) but 〈◊〉 cannot Consent unto your desire: It is much more easy for me to determine our Controversy by the Sword, then Consent unto your Liberty; nor is it in my power so much, as perhaps you imagine. As my Love is not inferior into yours Artamenes (replied the King of Assiria) so my desire of Combat is no less violent in my soul than yours; yet I would not fight for the enjoyment of the Princess, since she is not in a Condition to be the Prize of the Conqueror: but Artamenes, our best and most expedient course, is to pursue the Ravisher of Mandana, and to Contribute both our endeavours jointly together for her freedom, since our interests unto her are so equal. Do you not apprehend, that if both of us should fall in Combat, then would the Glorious Mandana, remain in the Possession of our Common Rival, without either protection or defence? At these words, Artamenes paused; and then replied; Doubtless it were not just to expose our Princess unto so much hazard; nor is it fit for me who am entrusted by the King of Medes with his Army, to dispose so peremptorily of such a Prisoner as the King of Assiria; All that I can with Honour and safety promise is, to employ the best of my endeavours for his release. But to testify in the mean time, how desirous I am to encounter so Gallant an enemy, and that I will if possible procure his freedom; I do now engage my Honour, never to pretend any thing unto the Princess, although she were in my possession, though the King of Medes should consent unto it, and she her fair self were pleased with it, before the fate of Arms has rendered me a Conqueror in Combat with you. I cannot deny (said the King of Assiria) but your Arguments are Convincing; that you have reason to treat me as you do; and that my request was unreasonable: And, though you be wiser than I am, yet I beseech you confess I am more Amorous, since I have lost so much reason, which you have retained. I must dispute with you (replied Artamenes,) that Controversy more obstinately than the other. Then, the King of Assiria without any further replies, did entreat him to endeavour his release, which once happily obtained, might much conduce to the safety of the Princess. Upon this Artamenes retired, and committed the guard of the Assyrian King unto Araspes, commanding to treat him with all observance and possible Civilities, waiting upon him unto his accustomed Lodging, and so at this time they parted. Artamenes marched through all the streets; kept the People in good order, and quite quenched the fire: he sent out several Men, to see if they could discover any happy tidings of that Galley which had carried away his Princess: He dispatched Posts unto Ciaxares, with Intelligence of all adventures, and employed all the rest of the day in giving out Orders: At night he retired unto that Chamber where his Princess was wont to lie, which he knew to be the same by the information of Thrasibulus, unto whom he applied himself, with as much Civility as the inquietude of his mind would permit him; he gave order for reparation of his Ships which had been torn by the tempest, and consumed by fire: He related unto Artamenes, how the King of Assiria did treat him with much respect, and permitted him to lie within the Castle, where he did see the Princess Mandana; and how the last night, they were all very apprehensive of that noise which the burning of Ships did cause; and how the King of Assiria called for his Sword, and never rested in a place; that he having a desire to go unto the Princess Lodging, found it locked, but found no Soldiers which used to guard the Fort, and especially that place; that he called for his Servants and broke open the Chamber-door, but found no body in it: afterwards, when he desired to go out of the Fort, he found it a thing impossible, by reason of the fire: That after all this, he often went unto the top of the Tower, where too deeply resenting his disasters, he resolved every minute to throw himself either into the fire or the water. Thrasibulus could make no further Relation because he arrived at Sinope but the day before; so he left Artamenes in his Chamber, who at their parting assured him, he would move the King to make him satisfaction for his Ships which had been burnt: Thrasibulas did highly commend his Moderation, because in all these sudden and unexpected sad disasters, he did not deject himself by unprofitable sorrows, but Courageously endured this so considerable a Loss. Artamenes did wake away the night in such disturbed imaginations, as cannot be conceived by any but himself. Behold (said he in his melancholy mind) the place where my Princess is abused! Me thinks I see her with a doleful memory think upon me, and where perhaps she mourns for the misfortunate Artamenes! Without doubt she hath spoke something concerning me; for by what other way was it possible, the King of Assiria could know, that Artamenes was more than real Artamenes? ay, who during the time I was in the Court at Cappadocia, passed for no other than such a one as Philidaspes, a silly Knight, though perhaps I was as amorous as he, and by consequence as unlike to delude: But, alas, my most divine Princess, how fatally comes it to pass, that I should be here in your Prison? and that I should find your Ravisher here, but not you? I find a Rival upon whom I cannot with Honour exercise my revenge; I have lamentably lost a Princess whom I know not how to follow; Her Beauty, which was my highest Glory and only Happiness, I find now to be cause of my dire disasters, and her own miserable misfortunes; She has met with many adorers, but yet they are such as are without becoming reverence. In what places soever she came, she procured Rivals unto me, and enemies: Ah Divine eyes (cried he out,) how comes it to be possible you should infuse such injust and so irregular resentments? You, I say, which never charmed my heart, with any other thoughts, but those of fear and reverence? I who never durst presume so high as to say I loved you; I, who never looked upon you, but was Planetstruck and trembled: I, who have long, long adored you in the secret of my Soul: I (I say,) who had rather die a thousand deaths, than any one of all my actions, should in the least degree in ●ur your displeasure: But for all this, you are Courted by hearts who are most unworthy of you; hearts which never study that reverence which is your due, but aim only at their private satisfaction; for my part I cannot repent me of my humble Passions; and in spite of this misfortune in missing this soul of my life, I had rather be Artamenes then Mazares; not but that he is happy in his very Crime; for he sees her, speaks to her, and has the opportunity to discourse of his Passions; but doubtless her answers are all disdam, and those eyes, which are his glory and delight, will become his punishment when they sparkle anger at him. In a word, I had rather lodge innocently in the heart of my Princess, then lie an offender at her feet: But oh Heavens (cried he out, in a sudden passion) will you permit this terrible tempest to continue, and be her ruin? As he was musing thus in these melancholy Imaginations, he heard a great noise without: and presently Chrisantes coming hastily unto the Chamber; Sr (said he) the King of Assiria will escape, or to speak truth, I think he is gone; for Araspes hearing a noise in the King's Chamber, within which (out of reverence unto him) he did not lie; opened the door, but found no King: we went all immediately out and searched diligently; we find, that under his window which is directly opposite unto a fireruined house, there is a great heap of ruinous rubbish, which hath filled up the Mote under the Castle in that quarter, so that it raised up a high hill of combustible ruins, by which we suppose the King escaped. Artamenes, though he was much moved at this unpleasant news, yet sent out Orders immediately unto all the Ports of Sinope, and went himself to seek his Prisoner. As he was at one end of the Town, he discovered a Troop of Men in Arms at the other end; and who endeavoured to become masters of the Port: he hasted thither, but all too late, for the King of Assiria was already gone, and had charged through the Court of Guard. These were some, who were commanded by Aribes, and who every one did believe to be dead, but he did lie close under the rubbish of that ruin'd house, which seemed to bury him alive: This Man to gain more time for the King of Assirias' escape, began a skirmish, notwithstanding all the wounds which he had formerly received. Artamenes no sooner saw him, but said, What, Traitor, art thou risen again to betray thy Master? if thou wilt escape with thy life, than thou must give me my death: In saying so, he made at him with such a furious impetuosity, as Aribees, though courageous enough, was forced to retreat a little; yet it was but to retard his death one moment longer, for Artamenes did press so sore upon him, as he had enough to do to defend himself, and must needs fall under the valour of him who never fights but conquers: In conclusion, he bestowed upon him such a fatal blow across his body, that in spite of his Curass he fell at his feet. Before he died, he confessed, that being so concealed under that heap of rubbish, he rallied as many of his men as he could, and hid them amongst the ruins of houses; and having in the interim enquired what Chamber the King of Assiria did lie in, he got up to his window in the beginning of the night, by that heap of cinders and half-burnt wood which was under it, and so with as little noise as possibly he could, he helped the King of Assiria to escape. At the end of this Confession, this perfidious wretch lost both his speech and his life both together. All his complices, seeing him in so sad a condition, betook themselves to their heels. Artamenes could pursue the King no further by reason of the night's obscurity. Upon his return unto the Castle, he sent unto Ciaxares, to advertise him of the accident, and spent all the night in contemplation of all the mutable and capricious humour of his fate: he was much amazed, when he considered all his adventures, and that one so young should be the subject of such vicissitudes in Fortune: Whilst he was thus deep in thoughts, and walking in his Chamber (for his turbulent mind would not permit him sleep) he found upon the Table a very rich Table-book, whose leaves were of Indian Palm; But, oh Heavens, into what an ecstasy was he wrapped, when upon the opening it, he found the hand of his Princess: he looked upon it again most earnestly, and the more he liked the Lines, being now fully persuaded it was her hand, and thus began to read.  
The Princess Mandana to the King of Assiria.  
REmember, Sr, you told me a hundred times that you could deny Mandana nothing; if you think upon that, you will not accuse the generous Mazares of any infidelity, since he was moved at my desire, to act as he did; not that he has any other interest in my Liberty, than such as virtue does infuse into souls well descended. Resolve then to pardon him that Crime, which to speak truly does in some sort reflect upon your own advantage, since it is a means to lessen my aversion, by the testimony which you gave me of your Love. Know, that I will protect him in my Father's Court, who hath protected me in yours. Know also, that it is by the Pardon of Mazares, by which you may obtain yours from Mandana, and may find more room in her esteem, then ever you could in her affection.  
Mandana.  
As soon as Artamenes had read this Letter, he presently repent of his malignity against Mazares, and now made as many Prayers for his safety as he had before for his ruin: Appearances (said he) are fallacious, and it is too much rashness to Censure upon the Actions of another, without most certain knowledge. Would not any one have concluded Mazares, the most unworthy man upon earth? and that his infidelity unto the King of Assiria, had no other foundation, but his unjust Love? but it seems, that Pity and Compassion were the only Motives, which prompted him to his transaction: I perceive it is not his fault, I am not the happiest man in the world; but if the Tempest do not prevent me, I shall hope to enjoy my Divine Treasure; and in the mean time, I shall resent the actions of Mazares, as having no other design in them, than such as conduce unto the Liberty of my Princes, though it was my cross fortune to come too late to relieve her: But, said he, what imports it, by what means Good fortune come, so I enjoy it? I will therefore in this hope revive; and resolve to become a friend unto Mazares, in protecting him against the King of Assiria. After he had thus reasoned with himself, and ruminated upon what his Princess writ; he looked if there were any more within the book. But, alas, he found that which he expected not; it was a Letter from Mazares to the King of Assiria, and thus indicted.  
Mazares Prince of Saces to the King of Assiria.  
I Will now no longer conceal my Crime, but will ingeniously discover unto you how great it is: I have not only been Perfidious unto you, but have also deluded her, whom of all the world I most adore, which is, the Princess Madana: She thinks I endeavour to lessen her misfortunes, whilst my Aims are only for myself. In short, my sin is against her as well as you, and it proves also against myself, since for aught I see, all my endeavours are ineffectual. But what should I do? It was Love constrained me, and I must obey. If you be truly Noble you will pity me, without any thoughts of revenge, unless upon yourself as well as me. Yet I must tell you, that I shall be sufficiently Punished by Mandana, as long as Artamenes keeps such strong possession of her heart, and denies admittance unto you, unto me, and unto all the Princes in the world, except him: It is against the Law of perfect Generosity, to punish me for that crime, of which yourself is guilty.  
Mazares.  
What's this I see? said Artamenes; I expected to find a friend, and in the turning of an eye, I have found a Rival: and a Rival too who perhaps has used my Name, and abused my Princess in conveying her away, she supposing it to be my design, which he transacts for himself: But most Glorious Princess; can I hope for so much blessedness, as to be entertained into your heart, as Mazares thinks? If it be true; then I am the most happy; and the most unhappy man, both together, that ever breathed: happy in having that Honour which all the Princes in the world cannot deserve; and unhappy in having a Title unto that Treasure which I cannot possess. Capricious Fortune which order all occurrences, does never afford me any good, but she makes me more resentive of it by a deprivation; as if sweets would not relish unless I tasted the bitter also: I should never have known, that I was thus Loved, unless by the extremity of my misfortunes I had been thus brought to hate my life and wish my death. Whilst he was in these Contemplations, one came and told him, that no Intelligence could be learned all along the Sea cost, concerning that Galley in which the Princess was: this gave him some hopes to mingle with his fears of her shipwreck, and did so elevate his spirits, that he admitted of the company of his Commanders in the Army, who followed him. Hidaspes, Chrisantes, Aglatidas, Araspes, Feraulas and Thrasibulus that famous Greek, all came into his Chamber; where Artamenes entertained the last of these more particularly, and told him how sorry he was, that he could not so readily as he desired, furnish him with Ships; but if it were so, that his designs at Sea were only to secure himself from his enemies (as some had formerly hinted unto him) than he would promise him a safe Sanctuary in the Court of the King of Medes; and did further oblige himself to remit him unto his former estate, as soon as he had found out the Princess his Daughter. Thrasibulus returned him most humble thanks, for this obliging offer, and accepted of it, since this was all he was able to do for the present. The valour, and winning qualities of Artamenes, had possessed this man's soul with so much Love, ever since he first knew him, that this happy meeting proved an Antidote unto him against his former misfortunes. After Artamenes had thus honoured him, he went out with him and all the rest of the Officers into the streets of the Town, where the fire was quite quenched, yet all the rude rubbish remained; the sad sights which every where appeared, great beams half burnt, whole houses quite demolished, and such lamentable objects, infused such melancholy imaginations into them all, as it was impossible to think of any thing but sadness in a place so dismally dismantled: there they saw some men searching for their Treasure which was buried among the cinders of their houses. Others, who were composed of a more tender disposition, were raking among the ruins, for the bones of their burned kindred and Friends. Artamenes was much moved with these mournful spectacles; he commiserated and comforted all he met, and promised unto the Inhabitants in general, that notwithstanding their Rebellion, he would move the King to rebuild their Town. Feraulas then presented a man unto him who brought a Letter from the King of Assiria; He took the Letter, broke open the Seal, and reading it in a low voice unto himself, found these words.  
The King of Assiria unto Artamenes.  
I Commend your scrupulous virtue, which would not permit you to make use of your generosity: Doubtless you could not well have consented unto the Liberty of your Prisoner who desired it, unless you had failed in that duty which you owe unto the King of Medes: As I will be just to you, be not you unjust to me, nor blame a Prince who had not made an escape, had you trusted him upon his Parole; nor can he think he hath committed a Crime, since he escaped your Guards with intentions to endeavour the delivery of our Princess. To testify unto you that in breaking my Prison I have not broken the Conditions of our Treaty, I do here promise you again, that I will advertise you of all Passages, and that I will make no war upon the King of Medes, but afford him some Auxiliaries: And that which is most difficult for me to perform, I promise you not to speak a word more of my affection to the Princess, though it should be my happy fate to deliver her; nor will I think it was your neglect which gave me my Liberty; Keep Promise with an Enemy if you would have him keep Promise with you.  
The King of Assiria.  
Artamenes read this Letter with a double resentment both of joy and sorrow; he was well pleased with the King of Assirias Promises, for the Princess might as soon fall into the hands of Labinet as his; but on the other side it much grieved him, that he should, in the face of all the peoole, receive such a Letter from the King of Assiria as he must not show unto Ciaxares, for many reasons therein contained, and therefore he would not impart it unto any. When he was come into his Chamber, he took a leaf made of the bark of Cedar, or some such like (for the Ancients were not acquainted with Paper,) and writ these words.  
Artamenes, to the King of Assiria.  
I Will never fail where once I Promise, but shall account it as a due Debt, which must and shall be paid: Be confident, that I will punctually Perform every circumstance which was agreed upon between us; I wish we were now in a Condition to dispute the Prize of which I am unworthy, which yet none shall ever enjoy but by the death of  
Artamenes.  
When this Letter was sealed, he gave it unto the same man who brought the other; who drawing nearer, whispered him in the ear, and told him how he had Command from the King of Assiria to acquaint him, that if he had any occasion to send unto him, he was retired unto Pteria, a Town whereof Aribees had been Governor, as well as of Sinope, and that it was now committed unto his fidelity: After this the man departed. Artamenes went out also, and continued his walk round the Town; he went unto the Temple which he most precisely viewed, since it was the place where first began his Love: upon his departure from thence, not well knowing whither he went, or what he did, he continued his course along the Sea side, where the Galley which conveyed away his Princess did once stand: whilst he continued his melancholy walk, with his two faithful Companions in all his Adventures, the wise Chrisantes, and the valiant Feraulas, Was ever time so ill employed (said he to them) as since we came to Sinope? It is impossible to be more tossed and crossed with multitudes of sad events, than we have been: The time is tedious also in consideration of the small or no utilility which any of our transactions have produced ever since: I came with hopes to relieve my Princess, and alas, I find her in most eminent and dreadful danger, where I cannot bring her any Assistance: When I gave any credit unto those fears which seized upon my soul, than was I ready to cast myself into the flames and be reduced to ashes, as well as the Town: on the other side, when I roused up my soul, what pains did I take to relieve my Princess? I fight, I quench the flames, and puzzle myself, but when all is done, in lieu of my Princess, I find her Ravisher, and find him in such a condition as I cannot take revenge, without a stain unto mine honour: And then again, I find another new Ravisher of my Princess, and in such a place as is inaccessible: Presently, I find my Rival Prisoner make an escape, and must pray for Mazares, whose ruin I desire. Oh Destinies, cruel Destinies, who order all our Fortunes, I beseech you, make me either absolute happy, or absolute miserable; and toss me not continually between hopes and fears, between life and death. Sr (said Chrisantes unto him) after so many misfortunes which you have either suffered or prevented, you must hope to surmount them all: And it is to be hoped (added Feraulas,) after all these cross events, Fortune will be weary of her obstinacy and give over. During all this time, the Heavens were clear, the wind soft, and the Sea serene; the waves dash gently upon the banks, and in a calm temper seemed to be obedient unto that Supreme Power which prescribed them their limits. Artamenes was much pleased with this Haltion serenity; he was as much transported with Joy as the Ravisher himself could be. In conclusion, he looked along the Sea side, and saw many People assembled together, who by their busy actions did seem to be much amazed: Artamenes was exasperated with much Curiosity, and changing colour upon a sudden, What can this People be doing, said he to Chrisantes and Feraulas? Sr, answered they, Perhaps they are Fishers, and are untangling and drying their Nets upon the shore: whilst they were walking towards them, Feraulas spied upon the water side, some wreck of a Ship, but beckoned unto Chrisantes, not to take any notice of it unto their Master, who was so intent upon those Men by the Sea side, that he took no notice of what Chrisantes and Feraulas had seen; yet he had hardly gone twenty paces further, but turning his eye towards the water which was upon his left hand, alas he saw it all covered with broken planks intermingled with Cordage and other wreck, and amongst the rest a dead Corpse. Oh what horror did Artamenes apprehend? he stood stone still; looked upon the wreck, viewed the Corpse; gazed upon Chrisantes and Feraulas, and durst not move a step further towards those Men, who were not above forty paces from him, fearing to find there the dead Corpse of his dearest Princess. Feraulas seeing him in this perplexity, said unto him, What Sr, do you think there was no Ship upon the vast Ocean but this, that you should be thus troubled at it? Do you not consider, that shipwreck is a thing most common? This is the cause of my grief, answered unhappy Artamenes; if these misfortunes were Rare, I should not fear so much. Then, maugre all his apprehensions, he drew nearer those Mariners, whose trade it was to look for wreck, and thrive by the misfortunes of others: Artamenes enquired of them, what they knew concerning this fatal accident; one of them answered, that they supposed it to be some Galley which perished this last night in the tempest, as might be conceived by what the Sea brought to the shore, and by what they had collected from a handsome and well fashioned Man who was taken up and carried into a cabin some hundred paces from the shore, and who violently refused all those assistances which we endeavoured to afford them: Artamenes without any further inquisition, went to the cabin, where he found them all officious to help this halfdead Man: he presently knew him to be Mazares, for he had often seen him at Babylon in the Court of Nitorcris, Mother to the King of Assiria, so that he perfectly knew him to be the Ravisher of Mandana: He la● upon a bed more drowned in tears then water of the Sea, and more changed by his despair, then by shipwreck. This dejected Prince, did sometimes lift his eyes up to Heaven, and sometimes cast them down upon a rich Scarf which he held in his hand, and which Artamenes did know to be the scarf of Mandana, because she had heretofore refused him the Honour to bestow it upon him. This sight had such a sad operation upon the heart of Artamenes, as he resolved to live no longer: But when sorrow had silenced his Tongue, he understood that Mazares who seemed to be at his last gasp and striving to speak, cried out as loud as his weakness would permit; Oh miserable remainder of my fair Princess, why did I not perish with her, since I could not preserve her? Alas, alas, what do you do unto me? why do you show me the mournful Relics of my unfortunate Princess, whom I have destroyed? On ye Gods who guide our Destinies, and are not ignorant of my endeavours to preserve her, why did not you assist me? At this Artamenes drawing nearer, whose Grief, Anger, Rage, Despair and Love, would not permit him to resolve, whether he should kill this more than half dead man, or no; or whether he should charge him with his Crime, or further inform himself how this fatal Accident happened. Sometimes he was in that cruel resolution; and sometimes he would Question him: Sometimes he would lament his Princess, and sometimes accuse the Gods; sometimes he would kill his Rival, and sometimes himself; his Tears and Lamentations would sometimes break forth whether he would or no, and that so passionately, as Mazares understood who he was, by some who pronounced the Name of Artamenes. He then turned himself with as much precipitance, as a man in his feeble condition could do; and beholding Artamenes with a most pitiful and resentive aspect; Is it you, said he, who was the most happy Man in the affection of a great Princess, and whom I have made the most unfortunate by her ruin? Is it thou (answered Artamenes with a heart wounded through with woe) who by thy injurious act, has undone the world, and deprived it of Her who was the fairest and most illustrious in it? It is I, replied the unfortunate Prince, with his eyes drowned in tears, who am the same unworthy wretch you speak of; and who would immediately punish myself for it, if I had but strength enough; but death I hope ere long will do it for me: me thinks I find you too calm; I should be obliged unto you, if your hand would undertake that office. Those who first found me floating upon the water, I believe, do know I did not much court them to preserve me; for it is infinitely against my will to live after the death of this divine Princess. But is it certain, said Artamenes, that the Princess is dead? did you see her perish? did you use all your power to preserve her? did you not part from her? did you see her in the water? did you see her dead? I saw her upon the Galley (answered the said Mazares,) I saw her fall into the Sea, and I cast myself after her; I took hold upon her by this Scarf, and held her up a long time upon the waves; but oh ye cruel Gods, one rolling billow unloosed this fatal Scarf, and parted us, so that I could never see her more: Ask me no more after this what I did, or what I thought, for I desired death, and freely bequeathed myself unto the waves, not valuing my life at any rate; and at last I was found floating upon the water, by these charitable men who brought me into this cabin: Now Artamenes, you have all I can inform you of: Here, unhappy Prince, said he, take this Scarf, which more belongs to you then me; I desire nothing in this world, but the glory to die by your hand, if you would please to honour me so much; Mazares pronounced these last words so faintly, that every one thought him dying. Artamenes seeing him in this sad condition, took the Scarf, which feebly fell from the hand of this faint Prince; and he went away from this despicable weak enemy, who was not worthy of his Revenge, having too sadly satisfied his Curiosity. He dolefully drooped, as he walked along the Sea side, being followed by Chrisantes and Feraulas, who observed as they went whether they could espy any thing belonging unto this dead Princess: He commanded the Mariners to go all along the shore, and among the Rocks, to see what they could discover: Never was man in so pitiful a plight as poor Artamenes. Chrisantes and Feraulas had not hearts to speak unto him; nor did he himself know that they were near him: He loured, and looked upon the water, supposing every thing he saw to be the dead Corpse of his dearest Princess: he would sometimes stride a most precipitate pace, then upon a sudden stop, and stand in a deadly dump: after he had in vain walked very long by the water side, he stepped upon a small Rock which stretched itself a little into the Sea, to see if the waves would restore unto him that which they had taken away; and commanding every one to continue their Quest, their remained none with him but Chrisantes and Feraulas, who, say what he could, would not leave him: But alas, what lamentable expressions did poor Artamenes utter? What did he think? Am I not, said he, the most unlucky man that ever lived? Can a more horrid torment be imagined then this, which by the Tyranny of my Fate I now endure? Ah my fairest Princess, was it the intentions of the gods only to show you upon the earth? Did they make you to be the wonder of the world, and must not we all adore you? Ah! alas, alas, ye furious fatal flames, (cried he out looking upon the Town, whose ruins might be seen far off) what cause have I to curse you for the loss of my unparallelled Princess? I know too well it was your opposite element which gave me my dire and dismal loss; yet merciless though you be, you would have left me her precious ashes, that so mine might have had the glory to be mixed with them: but the rigour of my fate is such, that this inexorable element of water will not render me my Princess either alive or dead, although it is her will to save the life of her Ravisher and my Rival: Had the fates left this Rival in such a state, as I might without blemish unto my honour have satisfied my revenge, it had been some light consolation amidst my grand misfortunes: But this barbarous Element retains my Princess and saves my Rival, only to tell me the sad news how he saw her in inevitable danger, and left her in the arms of death; that he saw her in such resentments of me, as I durst never hope for, and at last lost his tongue, so that I could gather from him nothing but despair. You have this comfort yet remaining (said Chrisantes) that he could not say he saw her dead, that ultimate and fatal syllable was not yet pronounced: Also it may rationally be hoped (added Feraulas) that the same fate which followed Mazares might also follow her; and haply hers much better than his, for she hath no reason to wish her own death like him: yes Sir, it may very well be she lives, and hath no sad resentments but of you. Ah Chrisantes, ah Feraulas (cried he out) this poor pittance of hope which remains at the root of my heart, may chance to cause a greater evil. Yet if this were not, you might be sure, my Friends, that without any further cries, or tears, or sighs, I would presently follow my most adored Mandana, there is not any thing but this faint hope which restrains me: And though it be a good Preservative, and a cordial Antidote against all misfortunes, yet it is too weak to hinder me, if I once were fully persuaded my Princess were perished: Alas Chrisantes, me thinks I see her in the Sea how disdainfully she receives help from her Ravisher: Methinks I see that boisterous wave take her from him, who when he he had ruined her, would then too late preserve her: Me thinks I see the waves (oh ye gods what should I say, what should I think?) smother her, and sink her to the bottom of the Sea. I saying so, tears did flow: He kissed the Scarf with profound sorrow, and sadly said, Oh thou which heretofore was the height of my ambition to wish for, and thought thee ●he greatest honour I durst presume to aspire unto; I could never believe that I should resent thee with so much sadness: All I desire from thee now is, to inspire me with courage enough to vanquish those who are enemies unto my King and my Princess. I look upon thee now as a motive unto my memory of Mandana, which will double my despair, and hasten my death. Now Chrisautes, said he, do you not now wonder at the odd contrivances of my humorous fate? that I should receive more testimonies of my divine Mandana's affection to me, from my Rival then from herself? Her severe virtue did distribute her favours with so much wisdom and reservedness, that I myself could never presume of so much happiness: as I understood from the King of Assiria, from Mazares his Letter, from Mazares himself, and from Mazares dying, who all do tell me I had a greater sharer in her heart, then ere I could hope for; But oh ye gods why do you afford me so great a bliss, so much certainty of her affection, since she in whose election my felicity consists, is not in a condition to love, and since I must abandon life, hope, and all which can be called happy? After he had thus vented his sorrow, he was a while silent, sometimes looking upon the Sea, sometimes whether those he had sent to search were returned; and sometimes casting his sad eyes upon the Scarf, Chrisantes seeing the day was much spent, would persuade him to walk towards the Town, because the day was far spent. This reason, though it had argument enough in it to persuade him, yet it could not have caused him to remove, if he had not seen at a good distance off Thrasibulus, Araspes, Aglatides, Hidaspes, and many others coming towards him, who out of civility did retire, to give him the liberty of enjoying his thoughts, but after they had a reasonable time absented themselves, they drew near; he no sooner saw them but he rise up, and looking upon Chrisantes and Feraulas, said, What shall I do to persuade these men that my Passion for the Princess is for her, as the daughter of Ciaxares, and not as the Mistress of Artamenes? happily you may (said he unto them) but certainly, my friends I cannot; I know if Mandana could appear at this nstant she would command it, and would charm my tears; as soon as he had spoken, Thrasibulus and all the company came near, so that he became silent and met them. They perceived some odd adventure had chanced, and because he was infinitely beloved of all, especially those who had near relations unto him, they changed countenances also, and did participate of that grief whereof they knew not the cause; They were ignorant of it a good while, and it was a very very death unto Artamenes to tell them: Feraulas saved him the labour, and by a short relation told them the sad news; he was very brief, lest if he should aggravate the matter, Artamenes would not be able to contain himself, but would give too many testimonies of what he desired to conceal. Thrasibulus lamented the loss as much as possible; Hidaspes being more concerned as having interest in the house of Ciaxares was deeply perplexed; Araspes also did sadly resent it; Aglatidas who naturally was of a Melancholy Composition, did best sympathise with sorrow, and was so sad as if he had a particular interest in the Princess. Artamenes who thought the Town would be a better umbrage for his grief then where they were, because he might ret 〈…〉 unto his Chamber under pretence of writing unto Ciaxares, therefore he walked on, giving order into Feraulas, to take them which came with Thrasibulus, and go seek out for intelligence either of the safety or loss of the Princess: All the way he passed to the Town he observed much silence; Mean while, every one got information of the accident: There was an universal condolement for the Princess, and of those eminent excellencies in her; Her amazing beauty; her transcendency of spirit, and her Divinity of sodl: Some lamented the King her Father, and his sad resentments: Others sorrowed that such an illustrions' Race as the King of Medes should extinguish in the Princess by so fatal a Chance. In short, they all lamented; and amongst them all none knew who had least cause to complain; Hidaspes speaking to Chrisantes, said unto him; This accident makes me remember what grief the King of Persia my Master resented, when he first received the sad news of young Cyrus his shipwreck, who as you know better than I, was a Prince of the most superlative hopes in the world: and questionless Ciaxares will be as sensible of the Princess his daughter's misfortune, as Cambyses was of that Prince his sons. I did extremely lament that loss, for though I was not so nearly concerned as the King his Father, yet I could not choose but as much bewail him: Chrisantes diverting this Discourse, said unto the sad Artamenes, that happily the messenger whom he should send unto Ciaxares, would find him forward in his march, he having mustered together his men when he came away, with intentions to follow presently after. Aglatidas, whose thoughts were all composed of Love and Melancholy, addressing his Speech unto Artamenes, I assure you, said he, although I be the subject of Ciaxares, and by consequence an enemy unto the King of Assiria: yet I cannot choose but pity the last, as one who when he shall hear of this sad accident will think himself the most undone man upon earth; for (said he) though he was not beloved, yet he was a Lover, and love doth so exceed all the other resentments, which either nature, reason, or friendship can give, that there is no comparison between them. As for my part, said he, if in heu of a Lover who was hated, as the King of Assiria was, I should know a Lover which was beloved, who had such a loss, I am persuaded my very pity of him would endure unto my death. But as the virtue of the Princess was too reserved to express any affection unto any one, therefore I must needs lament the King of Assiria, who indeed really deserves it. Artemenes was too much troubled to answer unto this urgent Discourse, and though he had power to restrain his tears, yet he had not enough to stop his sighs; he only told Aglatidas that the Princess was so full of all admirable virtues, as that all who knew her did adore her; and therefore all those who had that happiness must needs lament her, whether Medes, Persians, or Assyrians. Then Artamenes, because he grew weary of all company, did go some thirty▪ paces before all the rest. Mandana was the subject of every one's discourse, but of Artamenes grief. Every one commended the affection, which Artamenes bore unto the King his Master. Although that sad accident had as sad an influence upon them all; yet some amongst them had never seen the Princess, and some again had never been in Love, so that a vast difference might be observed between their loss and his, and they were ignorant of the main principal cause of his grief.  
When they were come into the Town, Artamenes went into his Chamber, and dismissing all his attendants, remained sadly by himself alone, entertaining nothing but despair, by calling to memory all his dire disasters: He took Mandan's scarf, which he found in the hands of miserable Mazares, and locked it in his Cabinet; but all his care in keeping it was rather an addition unto his despair, than any consolation to him in his sorrows: And to augment his injury he recalled into memory every sleight favour that ever he had received from his Princess. This great soul, whose thoughts had never any reflection but upon Heroik achievements, did upon this occasion permit the Idea, of so many hardy combats, so many victorious battles, and so many glorious triumphs as he had obtained, to come afresh into his imagination, to the end his despair might be more excusable, and that they might better colour the weakness which he should discover in this adventure: he resented all his achievements, as performed in the service of that Mistress whom now he thought not to be in this world. The memory of these were great additions unto his misery; if it can be conceived possible any addition can be unto a sorrow, which from the first resentment was extreme and unsupportable. He could not resolve with himself, whom he should send to carry this sad news unto the King of Medes, and far less could he resolve to tell the dismal story with his own mouth. In such confused and anxious thoughts did he pass away all that night, as he could not determine any thing upon it. In the morning, Feraulas coming to him, Artamenes asked him what news of Mazares, and whether he recovered that weakness wherein last night he left him. Let some run, said he, to know; and if he be able, let him be brought hither: he gave this order very hastily, not knowing almost what he said; but a while after, news was brought, that the Fishermen in whose Tent Mazares lay, did report, that Mazares never revived out of that sound in which Artamenes saw him, but died immediately after his departure out of the Tent. The report of his death infused various imaginations unto Artamenes; He admired divine justice in destroying a Prince whom he knew to be most criminal, and murmured against those rigid gods for ruining a Princess whom he knew most innocent: And as his spirits were wholly taken upon with the grandeur of his loss, so he made no strict inquisition concerning the Funerals of Mazares: The very thoughts of this Ravisher were so tormenting to him, that he did quite obliterate his memory. Amidst these restless thoughts, news was brought, that it was supposed Ciaxares was upon his march, with all his Army, near the Town; for a great thick dust rising out of a Valley was discovered from the top of the Tower, which could be nothing else but the march of his Troops. This news did much surprise Artamenes, but much more, when he saw Andramias arrive, who informed him that within a little more than an hour Ciaxares would be in Sinope: Artamenes then began to bestir himself, and so discreetly, that he was in some hopes to hide part of his sorrow: he commanded all the Officers to draw up into Battalions; he mounted himself on horseback, and was followed by Thrasibulus, Hidaspes, Chrisantes, Araspes, and Aglatidas; he marched to meet the King, who when he was within the sight of Sinope, left his Army, and marched in the company of the King of Phrygia, of the King of Hyrcania, of Persodes Prince of the Caducians', of the Prince of Paphlagonia, of the Prince of Licaonia, of Gobrias, Gadates, Timocrates, Artabases, Madates, and Adusias, who were Persians and Grandees amongst the Homotimens, like as Hidaspes and Chrisantes, who accompanied Artamenes; Never was meeting more sad than this; Ciaxares seeing the Town so ruined, could not choose but sigh; Artamenes seeing Ciaxares, unto whom he must be a Messenger of such sorrowful news, had not the heart to move towards him, yet stirring a little, and the King coming very fast, they were presently within thirty paces of each other. Then Artamenes, and all who accompanied him, alighted, and went on foot to meet the King. Artamenes, notwithstanding his sorrow, presented Thrasibulus unto him; then Ciaxares giving them all his hand to kiss, commanded them to Mount; And calling Artamenes unto him, he began to discourse of their transactions in general; and to aggravate their misfortunes he told Artamenes that he understood Mazares had carried away his daughter. Sr, said sad Artamenes, you will think yourself more unfortunate when you shall know that Mazares lives not, and that it may be— At these words Artamenes pensively paused, and could tell no further. Ciaxares looking upon him with a moved aspect, said to him, What, Artamenes, have you any more ill news yet to tell me? Sr, answered Artamenes, the news is so very bad, I dare not tell it; I beseech your Majesty's patience until we arrive at the Town, before you be further informed; for your sorrows will be less seen in your Closet then in the open field; Ciaxares wondered at his dark discourse, and looking him in the face, he perceived such signs of sorrow in his eyes, that he durst not press him any more to relate that which rather than his life he desired to know, lest if he found what he feared to be true, he should discover too much weakness before all these illustrious Princes: He gazed in the eyes of Artamenes, and consulted with his own reason, and wound all his own thoughts to guess at it: but it was easy to be perceived by Artamenes his deportment, and by his silence, that he much feared to relate all he knew, and Ciaxares durst not inquire of that whereof he was ignorant: Mean while, those which came with Ciaxares, and they who came with Artamenes talking together, the Accident was divulged amongst them: The sad news caused many murmurs and mourning exclamations amongst them; so that the noise reaching the ears of Ciaxares, he knew well enough there was some strange adventure happened, which he must know: Being come to the Town, the soldiers which Artamenes brought with him, observing the orders which they received, made a guard for the King to pass through, and though Ciaxares did extremely long to satisfy his curiosity, yet would not before all the world, but silently went on till he came to the Castle: As for his Army, he ordered it to incamp in the valley, which was between a great Hill and the Town, and which was spacious enough to lodge them, though they were a hundred Thousand men. The King was no sooner lighted, but Artamenes conducted him unto the best Chamber of the Castle; he was no sooner there, but he carried him into a Closet; Come my Dear Artamenes, said he to him, what strange news have you to relate, which yet I have not been acquaiuted with? This demand did much surprise Artamenes, yet seeing there was no remedy, he was constrained to acquaint him with the Princess sad fortunes; he could not contain but his tears went before his tongue; Ciaxares seeing his tears trickle down his cheeks, said to him, What would your tears tell me Artamenes? Is my Daughter dead? Then Artamenes with a profound sadness, told him in few words all he knew concerning Mandana's shipwreck: The report struck Ciaxares to the soul; Never did Father express more tenderness and grief for a daughter than he. Artamenes seeing he might now well weep it out, and not be observed by Ciaxares, who was blinded with his own tears, began, and continued it so long, as never was sight more sad; he spoke not a word to Ciaxares by way of comfort, neither could Ciaxares find any fault with the tears of Artamenes. Was there ever (said this mourning Father) any Prince more unhappy than I? Could not I have foreseen my misfortune, by so many Oracles, told unto Astyages, that the Sceptre which he bore and left unto me, should ere long be transferred into the hands of a stranger? might not this ere long be transferred into the hands of a stranger; might not this have informed me, that I having but one daughter should inevitably lose her? Alas, Astyages turmoiled himself himself, and turned every stone to destroy them who might usurp the Crown; but he never dreamt of preserving her who should lose it in losing her life! Is there no hope remains? Is it certain, said he, she is quite gone for ever? Well well, said he, my Dear innocent daughter shall not die unrevenged: The gods who have punished Mazares one of her Ravishers, hath taught me what I shall do unto the King of Assiria: He shall die, he must, and that immediately. As he is the cause that the Illustrious race of the Famed Dejoca is extinct in the person of my Daughter, so shall the King of Assiria's also extinguish in his own. The gods, no not the very gods shall prevent his death, nor mitigate my fury: Artamenes amazed at this expression, said, Sr, did you not meet with him whom I sent to acquaint you with the King of Assiria's escape? What do you say Artamenes, that the King of Assiria is— (replied he angrily) I say Sir (said he) that I sent one to acquaint you with the King of Assiria's escape; how (replied Ciaxares angrily) is not he in my power? Is he at liberty? Ah no no, it cannot be; I cannot believe he is gone; I cannot easily think Artamenes will suffer a prisoner of such a consequence to escape. It is too true (answered Artamenes faintly) It was my ill and his good fortune to escape my guards: But, Sir, said he, let not this trouble you so much; for if it were as easy for me to regain the Princess, as it is to give you the death of the King of Assiria, your desires should have satisfaction: Ciaxares was not pleased with this Reply, and though he always loved Artamenes, and had great obligations towards him, nor did he ever entertain the least suspicion of his fidelity; neither did he believe this accident proceeded from any other ground then from his negligence and improvidence; nor yet could he in all his transactions accuse him of the least fault, yet he resented this escape but oddly, and went out of the Closet without speaking one word. Then finding all the Commanders and Grandees who followed him in the Chamber, he discoursed unto them concerning his lamentable loss with much constancy, though with much sorrow, and every one of them according to their several relations, did testify how they shared in his misfortune with him, always hinting unto him that as long as the Corpse was unfound, there was some hopes remaining: As for Artamenes he retired a while into another Chamber, where several Compliments passed between him and all the Princes which came with Ciaxares, for they all honoured and esteemed of him as much as of the King whom they served: Mean while, Ciaxares was very desirous to have all the passages concerning the King of Assiria's escape to be made more apparent unto him: he understood that Artamenes ordered Araspes to command the Guard over the King of Assiria, and that Araspes was one whom Artamenes loved; yet do what he could, he could not discover that Artamenes had any consent in his escape: But amongst those who came with the King there was one who was an intimate friend of Aribees; this man when he understood that Aribees was dead, entertained much hatred against Artamenes, who finding out by chance that the King of Assiria had writ unto him, acquainted Ciaxares with it: Ciaxares sent immediately for Artamenes; he no sooner saw him but he asked him very sharply, why he did not acquaint him how the King of Assiria did write unto him concerning his escape: Artamenes was much startled at this Question, because the Letter contained such matter as must not be made known, and stood a good while before he answered: at last he told Ciaxares that it was not strange he should forget a thing of so poor importance as that, since he had so many passages of sad concernment to acquaint him withal: and since the letter contained nothing but how the King of Assiria told him he had not transgressed the Laws of generosity in making an escape, since he was not trusted upon his Parole: We shall be better satisfied, said Ciaxares, by the Letter itself then by words. Sir, replied Artamenes, I should most willingly satisfy you, but as I was walking yesterday by the Seaside, harkening after news of the Princes, I unfortunatly lost it, and I suppose it fell into the water: Artamenes made this answer so coldly that it moved Ciaxares to tell him roughly contrary to his custom, that he thought this chance very strange, and in plain terms that the managing of this business did not please him. Artamenes, who bore much reverence unto him as the Father of his Princess, and who knew he had reason to say as much as he did, therefore he did silently withdraw, and because Ciaxares turned his back, and would hear no more, he went out of the room. Night being come, some Commanders retired to the Camp: All the Princes were lodged in the Castle, and fairest Houses of the Town, which the Fire had spared; Ciaxares did pass over the night with restless mind, but Artamenes much more, who besides his own Passions did participate of the Kings, notwithstanding his jealousy and rough deportment towards him. It seems Fortune observes no mean, neither in her favour nor her frowns, but exalts her Favourites unto the highest top of felicity; and sinks those whom she is displeased with into a Gulf of misery: Thus she dealt with Artamenes, who now seemed to faint under the pressure of this disastrous accident, and thought himself and his honour deeply concerned. The next morning Ciaxares sent for him into his Closet: When he was come, there appeared more anger than grief in his Countenance, which plainly told Artamenes there was some fresh misfortunate storm arising; but as the state stood with him, he valued his life and his death at the same rate, and was indifferent whether of them should be his fate. The violences of Ciaxares, and his angry looks did not much trouble him, but he reverently asked him if he would command him any service; Ciaxares answered, yes, he would see the Letter which the King of Assiria writ to him; And looking upon him with eyes full of anger; Look you Artamenes, said he, see how innocent you are of the King of Assiria's escape; expound unto me this mysterious Riddle which I cannot understand. Artamenes was wonderfully astonished at it, because he saw it was the same Letter which he writ unto the King of Assiria, and which he gave unto that man who brought the King of Assiria's Letter unto him, yet to be better satisfied, he opened it, and read the very same words verbatim which he had written. As he was reading, he often changed colour, and was as long about it as he could be possible, thinking in the mean time for some handsome reply; for he plainly saw that if he did not ingenuously paraphrase upon the Letter, his honour would receive a great blemish, since it would seem, as if he had been perfidious unto his Master, and held correspondency with his enemy: On the other side, he thought, that if he should discover his love, than he should too much traduce the honour of his Princess, which he valued at a higher rate than his own. Ciaxares who had not yet sounded him to the bottom, was displeased at his long silence. What look you for Artamenes (said he unto him) in that Letter? Is it for some fine excuse you are so long pumping? Speak I say, and explain what you have writ from the first to the last syllable; In saying so, he took the Letter out of Artamenes hands, who all this while behaved himself with much reverence; Sr, said he unto Ciaxares, if I could produce the King of Assiria's Letter, your Majesty might see I am not so guilty as you suppose me; nor that these compacts between us are of such a strain as you imagine: If you be not faulty, then inform me better, said Ciaxares, supposing he had some secret reasons in his heart which happily might justify him: Ciaxares opening the Letter read aloud what Artamenes had writ, and looking sternly upon him; How expound you these words, said he unto him,  
I will never fail where once I promise, but shall account it as a due debt, which must and shall be paid; be confident, I will punctually perform every circumstance which was agreed upon between us.  
Speak Artamenes, said he, tell me what you have promised the King of Assiria: and indeed how could you promise him any thing without breach of duty to me? Sir, answered Artamenes, you know there hath been some small differences between the King of Assiria, and me. There is also some transactions between us, which do not at all concern your Majesty; And that the love of honour hath a long time made us Corrivals. Tell me then (said Ciaxares, asperating his speech) what colour can you gloss upon these words at the end of the Letter,  
I wish we were in a condition to dispute for that prize of which I am most unworthy, yet, which none shall ever enjoy but by the death of  
Artamenes.  
What proze is this Artamenes which is so dear unto you? I told you Sir, answered he, that glory and honour is the prize, and the only cause of all the differences and transactions which the King of Assiria hath, or ever shall have with Artamenes. It is for the first rank in point of valour, for which I will contend as long as I live. For my part, said Ciaxares, after all your plausible expositions, I cannot conceive what prise you should contend for, unless my Crown or my Daughter: and which of these soever it be, it makes you equally culpable; yes, and you Artamenes, much more in fault then the King of Assiria, since her quality may pretend to both; but your condition, by all appearances, is far below them. Sir (replied Artamenes faintly) by this argument, you may suppose that the King of Assiria would never contend with me about such a thing into which I could never pretend. You speak (replied the King) in a tone so dissonant unto your condition, that it doth rather confirm my jealousy then extenuate it; for though the King of Assiria be my enemy, yet he is a King, and in that respect you owe him more regard than is fitting for your Discourse: When I have a sword by my side (answered Artamenes who could no longer contain) it may be, I should make a King look about him as well as another man: you know some who can inform you whether I speak truth or no: and he whose part you scorn to take can tell you something, if he had not a very bad memory; I do not question your gallantry (said Ciaxares) nor make any doubt of your valour; but I have some cause to suspect your fide 〈…〉 lity. Your Majesty needs not to doubt of either, if you did but know me well (said Artamenes to him.) It cannot be imagined his faith should be corrupted, who hath had so commanding a power as I have had: why then (replied the King) do you not make your actions more clear and intelligible, since you are so innocent? I beseech your Majesty (answered me) Press me no more to discover a thing which I neither ought nor can reveal: It is sufficient, said he, that the gods have so often employed my hand to support that Sceptre unto which you think I pretend, and kept your Crown upon your head; Upbraid me not with your services (retorted Ciaxares angrily) for if you remember what once you were, and what now you are, you will acknowledge they have not been ill rewarded: I have remembered them too much, and if I had lost the memory of them, perhaps you had ere now lost your life: Consume no more time in contriving excuses to palliate your crime; I should be as glad as you, that you could purge yourself from them. Sir, replied Artamenes, I am far from upbraiding you with my services; for they have been so inconsiderable, I should not so much as have thought upon them but in vindication of my injured Innocency. Can you produce any proof of your pretended Innocency, said Ciaxares to him; yes, answered Artameus, from arguments drawn from my virtue, if you were capable of knowing it. Well (Replied Ciaxares) you will not then diseover unto me what this correspondence is which you hold with my Enemy and Ravisher of my daughter. Sir (answered the innocent Artamenes) you shall never kuow that Artamenes; this man whom it seems you know not; the man who as you are persuaded would betray you; the man whom once you loved, that this man did ever hold any intelligence or correspondency with your enemies. I shall in time make you confess (replied Ciaxares) for it is apparent enough both by your Letter and your Discourse: and as the knowledge of every particular in this close conspiracy is necessary to my own safety, and good of my Kingdom; so perhaps, when you are in a close Prison, safer than that wherein you kept the King of Assiria, than I say you may perhaps better inform me; Sir, answered Artamenes (without any passion or transportation:) Prisons and punishments compel Artamenes to reveal what he hath a mind to conceal. My prison shall thus far comfort me, that I have exchanged my sword for fetters in a time when your Majesty have no potent enemies to molest you; so that thus losing me, you have but lost an unprofitable Servant. I understand you very well, (replied Ciaxares in much choler) you cannot forbear upbraiding me with your services; then going to the Chamber-door, he called for the Captain of his Guard, and commanded him to conduct him unto his Chamber, and keep him safe upon forfeiture of his life. The Captain who dearly loved Artamenes, and who knew how great a favourite he was, stood amazed at the command, not well knowing whether he should obey or no; and finding so sudden a Revolution in the fortune of one who the very day before was the only man in the Kingdom, and who ordered the destinies of Kings and Princes as he pleased, he was so confounded that he knew not what to do. But Artamenes observing his astonishment, Come (said he) let us go (giving him his sword) and pay this last service unto the King, thereby teaching the rest of his Subjects to obey with a willing mind more course commands then these: In saying so, he made low obeisance unto the King, and followed Andramias with as slow a motion as if he had been free. After this, the King commanded to secure Araspes, and was obeyed. It were a very difficult task to relate fully how Artamenes resented this passage, and what strange thoughts he apprehended. The King of Medes also had much reluctancy for what he did: Artamenes did more wonder at the oddnesse of his Fate then lament it: The King repented almost every minute of what he had done: What shall I do, said he, with this offender who hath done me so much good service, and whom I loved so well, who hath stolen away the hearts both of my friends and enemies? this offender I say who all the world esteems, yet none knows where he was born; Who ever met with so cross an accident? Can it be imagined that Artamenes by whose valour I have obtained so many Victories, and conquered so many Kings and Countries, should wound his honour with Treachery? On the other side, what can I conceive of this Letter, which puzzles him to explain, and the Crime is so great that his pretence and colours cannot hide his correspondency with the King of Assiria; No, no, said he, Artamenes is guilty: And though it be either in matter of love or matter of ambition, he is culpable, and deserves punishment. The worst is, loving him as I do, I shall grieve more for him then he will for himself; but said he suddenly, the sorrows which I resent for the loss of Mandana, will quite me from that of Artamenes: And my soul will be so sensible of the one, that there will be no room for the other. But let us use all expendients to bend this obstinate spirit: Let us do what we can to make him confess his fault, that so we may have occasion of pardon. Whilst Ciaxares was thus arguing the matter with himself, Artamenes, whose amorous soul could not be separated from the memory of Mandana, was more troubled at her shipwreck then his prison; and entertained more sad apprehensions of her loss, than sorrow for his own: Do your worst, ye rigid destinies, said he, you cannot afflict me more; My soul is not sensible of any sorrow, but for Mandana, therefore I defy you: Multiply your penalties upon my Person, and I will not complain of your injustice. Since my Princess wants a Tomb, it is no matter though I languish in a Dungeon, the worst is, it can but hinder me from a more high and generous death. Ah fairest Princess, said he, whether you inhabit amongst the dead, or amongst the living, in heaven or upon earrh, If you could but see the unhappy Artamenes in Caixares Prison, you would resent it with wonder and sorrow; However I complain not of his severity or injustice since I seem culpable in his eyes; and indeed I am so, but it is in a far different manner than he apprehends it. I am culpable Dearest Princess, but it is against you, indeed I am, I confess it, I am culpable in loving you, not as you are the daughter of the King of Medes, but as you are the fairest Angel that ever lived. As you are the daughter of a great King, it was lawful for me to love you; But as you are Mandana, I must love you, and not reveal it; I must suffer and not complain; I must adore you in my death, and I must die dumb, and not speak a word of love: Yet alas Mandana, (cried he out) I fear, I am the cause of your dire misfortunes: for if I had not loved you, and your soul not possessed with any thoughts of grace towards me, than perhaps you might have placed your affection upon that great Monarch of the world, and without all these misfortunes have been Queen unto the King of Assiria: then, said he further, I should not have been so happy, in the glory of her Love, nor would you have had any thought of Artemenes, the unfortunate Artamenes, a lover whose observant passions never offended against the Laws of virtue, by any exorbitant desires; and whose obsequious soul was ever obedient unto your will, whose life and death is consecrated unto your service: In sum of all, I will die (my Princess) and never let Ciaxares know what the ground is of Artamenes correspondency with the King of Assiria. Think not this (my Divine Mandana) a small sacrifice which I am resolved to offer unto you in the carriage of this affair. The desire of glory is a Passion as well as Love; a passion most violent and imperious; yet for all that I must value the honour of my Princess above it: What though Ciaxares think me perfidious, it is no matter, since I am not so; I know the King of Assiria, though my enemy, will vindicate me; and though he be my Corrival, yet he will speak in my behalf: Believe on, Ciaxares, and think me a Traitor as long as you please, since you do not know the true state of the matter; for though my Princess was most innocent, and her virtue had but too much strictness in so pure an affection, yet for all that Ciaxares and the censorious Court, it may be, will never believe that I could be so long disguised, without her consent. If I should discover who I am, it would more confirm Ciaxares in that opinion which he entertains, that I aspire unto the Crown, although I am not born so far from a Crown as he imagines: Alas, said he, how rigid are my destinies! I am afraid to justify myself, though it be most natural to do it: My fears to offend my Princess transcend my fears of infamy, although the fear of infamy should be above all other whatsoever, and though never any did more greedily thirst after glory then Artamenes: But why should I fear it as long as I have the Testimony of my own conscience, and the testimony of my most mortal enemy? The gods who are protectors of oppressed innocency will surely vindicate me after I am dead: They who now accuse me will then justify me, by ways which I cannot apprehend. Truth in conclusion will be found the strongest: Whilst Artamenes and Ciaxares were thus tormented in their own melancholy resentments, all the Court and all the Army were angered at the accident: The King of Phrygia, the King of Hyrcania, the Prince of the Cadusians, the Prince of Licaonia, the Prince of Paphlagonia, Hidaspes, Chrisantes, Aglatidas, Thrasibulus, Madates, Megabites, Adusius, Artabases and Feraulas; all these were wonderstrook at the imprisonment of Artamenes; and not only these Princes and Captaims, but also all the Inhabitants of Sinope, and the whole Army, all these did ill resent it: As soon as the news was divulged, all the Kings, Princes, and Commanders, went unto the Lodging of Artamenes but were denied entrance; Ciaxares sent for them all, and told them that he was compelied for the good of his affairs to arrest Artamenes, and commanded them to have a care that the soldiers who he knew loved Artamenes very well, did notmutiny: He told them that this transaction would conduce much to the safety of the State, and the good of all the Princes his Allies. This far fetched Discourse made no impressions at all upon their spirits, but all of them unanimously did beseech him to act warily in this business of so great importance: You know Sir, said the King of Phrygia, and I do believe it an absolute impossibility, that Artamenes should betray you; you may remember Sir, that the time was when we were at variance, and I fully persuade myself if any such thing had been transacted by him I should have known it. The King of Hyrcania, seconded and said, it cannot sink into my belief that ever he can be guilty of any treasonable designs. No I warrant you, said Hidaspes, I would not believe it though he himself should say it. If my head would be accepted as a gage for his innocency, said Aglatidas, I would throw it at your Majesty's feet: If so much innocency as he carries, about him, had half the Army for his accusers (said the Prince of the Cadusians) the army of Artamenes would confound them all if they should resist. I should shamefully belie my own eyes and my own knowledge, said the Prince of Licaonia, if I should witness against him. I do not think, said the Prince of Paphlagonia, that there can any one in the world be found who can or dare accuse him. I am his Complice, said Chrisantes, if he be criminal, and yet I am most certain that I am far from any treason: I have seen his soul stand firm, amidst the cloud of his misfortunes, and cannot think it should shrink in the Sunshine of his prosperity: It is neither credible nor possible, cried Madates and Migabites both together: If your Majesty would 〈◊〉 be pleased to bring his accuser's face to face, I should soon stop their mouths, said Feraulas: In short all these Princes and all the Captains one after another, and sometimes altogether, did strive who could plead with strongest arguments in behalf of this unfortunate, yet famous Artamenes: one put him in mind of his victories, another of his generosity; one extolled his valour, another his fidelity: In conclusion, they all fell off from the reverence which they owed unto Ciaxares, because he would not allow Artamenes time to answer in his own defence: The King was then much transported with passion, and showed unto them the Letter which Artamenes acknowledged to be his own hand, and said unto them in great fury, Look I pray you, whether he whom you so violently defend be so innocent as you suppose him. The King of Phrygia read the Letter, and upon the first apprehension did think it a little odd, yet for all that he could not alter his mind, no more than all the rest which heard it: after they had a while considered, that appearances were fallacious, but no proofs; they all unanimously concluded, with one voice (though they could not well argue it) that still Artamenes was innocent; and that he was so considerable a Person, as though he were culpable, yet the King ought not to lose him upon a slight occasion. So we do apprehend it (answered Ciaxares,) yet notwithstanding, I would have you know, that in this juncture of time when the Soldier is insolent and ready to revolt, it is not safe to countenance turbulent spirits too much. When the Kings, Princes and Commanders, perceived the King so much in passion, they would press him no more: and the valour of Artamenes had made so perfect a purchase of all their hearts, and made them all either his very subjects or allies, therefore they would never quit their respect unto him, nor ever become unserviceable unto him whom they so much loved, as doubtless they had done, if they had exasperated that spirit, which was already too apt to kindle: Therefore they left Ciaxures to ruminate upon the matter, and gave him time to recollect what he had done, and what was best hereafter to be done. Mean while Chrisantes and Feraulas, upon their departure from the King; did vent a thousand Protestations in behalf of their Master's innocency, and stuck close to their resolutions of Constancy in his service; They protested to perish, rather than one of so high a soul should suffer such injuries: There was nothing they dored at but this Letter, and Artamenes had this good fortune, that every one believed there was some mysterious matter in it which he himself would clear. There was not one could believe him to be guilty, for there was no probability, that he should comply with that man whom he endeavoured to conquer, and whose Empire he strove to overthrow. The Officers had much to do to keep the Soldiers in order; they so tampered with them, that they left them in a disposition to be at Artamenes service when ever he should need them: they were glad to give them good language, and desire their patience, telling them that Artamenes would be presently at Liberty; and that if they should rashly go about to deliver him, it would make his Condition worse: so that mixing commendations of Artamenes with their plausible persuasions, they cherished them, and prevented their Revolt both together, and did suppress their violences which yet did not need, without losing their loves. But for all this, the whole Camp and all the Town did ring in his Commendations; the Name of Artamenes Echoed every where: the Medes; the Persians, the Cappadocians, the Phrygians, the Hyrcanians; the Cadusians, the Paphlagonians, and all other Nations whereof the Army was composed, all cried up Artamenes, and made Songs and Elegies every one in his own Language, and after his own Custom, in commendations of Artamenes, and who but Artamenes in every mouth? There was not a Captain in that vast Army, which vaunted not of some Honour which he particularly had received from Artamenes; nor was there a common Soldier which did not brag that Artamenes knew his Name and himself too: In sum, Artamenes was the subject of every one's discourse; every Soldier left the Camp, and went into the Town to learn how Squares went with Artamenes; and every Inhabitant of the Town went into the Camp, to incite the Soldiers in behalf of their beloved General Artamenes; there was not one to be found, only except this friend of Aribees, who transacted privately and prejudicially to Artamenes in incensing the King against him: Every one except him I say, was a wellwisher unto Artamenes.; It was this man, who had not only got knowledge that the King of Assiria had writ unto Artamenes; but it was he also who gave the Letter unto the King of Medes: Chrisantes and Feraulas did much admire which way Ciaxares could come by it: but Heaven which would have Crimes always discovered, made it evident at the last, they much beat their brains, and turned every stone to find it out, but could not. But thus it fortuned; the Messenger whom the King of Assiria sent unto Artamenes, and by whom Artamenes returned this Letter in Answer unto the King of Assiria, did in his return back, meet with one who was Brother unto Aribees, who falling into discourse with this Messenger, asked him whether he traveled and from whence he came, and by degrees screwed out of him, what his business was: this Brother so tampered and suborned this Messenger, that he showed unto him the Letter, and when he had read it, did by his permission copy it out: he also told the Messenger, that he might do a most excellent piece of service, not only unto all Medea, and all Cappadocia, but unto Asia also, and indeed unto all the World, if he would return back again to Sinope, and carry this Letter unto a friend of his who waited upon Ciaxares (the very same man who was so close an enemy unto Artamenes,) he further told this Messenger, that it would be a most acceptable piece of service unto the King, so that he need not doubt of being largely rewarded: and that the King of Assiria who sent him, would also be much pleased at it, he having so great an interest in the ruin of Artamenes: and that the King of Assiria would be as well pleased with the Copy as the Original, and that he himself would carry the Copy to the King of Assiria, whilst he did return unto Sinope, and carry the Original unto this friend of his. He persuaded him not to scruple at the Ruin of an ambitious man, whose aims were at universal Monarchy; a man whom all men seemed to love, but their loves did proceed from fear, so that if ever fortune should frown upon him, he would assuredly be ruined without recovery; and that all things would then look with new faces; and that those who were now in appearance his dearest friends, would then become his utter enemies; and that for his part he would be sure to have the benediction of all the world, if by his means this design were brought about, which though it was great, yet might safely be negotiated without any danger at all: for all the difficulty was in delivery of this Letter unto the King, and if that were done undiscovered, than all the peril were passed. In short, this Brother or Aribees, whose Name was Artaxes, did know well enough how to deal with him he spoke unto; so that giving a bag full of golden persuasions unto him, he guled this poor fully mercenary wretch, to do as he would have him. Artaxes writ unto his friend, how he had met with an admirable expedient to be revenged for the death of his Brother, and desired him by all means to put it into execution: and that for himself, he would go unto Pteria, a Town not far off Sinope, whether the King of Assiria was retired, and would transact with that Prince against Artamenes, and there wait upon the success of that design, which he had now committed unto him, not daring to appear at Court. This mercenary Messenger arrived at Sinope, found out that friend of Arabees and Artaxes; found him disposed according unto his wish, and prosecuted the design so close, as he brought it unto that state wherein you find it. It is a very remarkable passage; that this Messenger who was fully persuaded he should act an universal good unto all Asia, in Ruining Artamenes, did to his great astonishment find, in lieu of a general Joy, that he had caused an universal sadness; and how he had brought all things into so great a disorder and confusion, as it was hard to reduce them into their former tranquillity. This man, who certainly had a soul as simple as sinful, was much moved and angered, he should be so guled as to swallow such a gudgeon: so that he did absolutely resolve to address himself unto the friends of Artamenes, and acquaint them it was he who had incensed Ciaxares against Artamenes. This man, repaired first unto Feraulas, and ingeniously confessed all the passages, but with such signs of so sad remorse, that although he was the man who had brought his Master's life in danger, yet he would not treat him hardly. Then after he had souldly chid him for his first act, he much commended him for his second, and resolved to make more use of him in discovery of this secret enemy unto Artamenes. He presently acquainted his Master with it, though Ciaxares had forbid any should speak unto him; for the Captain of the Guard being fully satisfied concerning Artamenes Innocency, did not observe his Order so exactly, but he gave him liberty of intercourse by Letter: Artamenes was glad when he knew how this Letter came unto the hands of Ciaxares: for though Great Souls who are incapable of Crimes, cannot easily believe others are more culpable than themselves; yet he entertained some light kind of jealousy, that the King of Assiria had a hand in the business; and the thought of that did much torment him: For, said he, If by happy Fate Mandana should be alive, and should accidentally fall into the King of Assiria's hands, than what confidence, said he, can I have in the word of such a Prince, who is guilty of so perfidious a fact? All this while Chrisantes and Feraulas endeavoured to use all means that Fortune would afford them, towards the preservation of Artamenes; and found it to be a very difficult business, for as the Case now stood, they knew not whether or no it becomed their duty, to acquaint Ciaxares with the truth of Artamenes his story, and all his adventures: they saw it would accuse him one way, and excuse him another: yet they conceived that his Life would be less in danger, as a Lover of the Princess, then as a Friend unto the King of Assiria; his Quality which was much above what it seemed to be, did appear unto them to be but an ill expedient, thereby to advantage him. They were full of so many fears and doubts as they knew not what to resolve upon or to imagine: In conclusion, they thought it not fit or just, to trust entirely unto their own opinions in a matter of such high importance; nor to charge themselves solely with the event of an affair, whereupon depended the safety or destruction of the most eminent man in the world. Therefore they concluded it most fit and safe, to make choice of some principal Persons, and other strange Princes who were most affectionate unto Artamenes, and whom he had most obliged to be of their Council: They thought it best to let these know, that he whom they so well loved, was much more worthy of their affection and assistance, than they thought him to be; and to desire their advice, what course were best to be taken in this transaction. They had a great desire to ask the leave of their dear Master, before they went to work, but that was so nice a thing to trust unto, as they would not hazard it; for he seemed to be so careless of Life, that they thought, he would not take the pains to preserve it, or use the best expedients for it; and therefore they did imagine, he would never consent they should reveal him. In their laying a foundation for this design, they resolved not to trust this secret unto any but Persians, and stranger Princes, and not to impart it unto any Mede upon any condition: because they being Subjects unto Ciaxares, might perchance dispense with the Laws of Friendship, and reveal it, or at least observe them with some reluctancy and scruple: So when they had fully resolved upon this design, they sought out opportunities to put it in execution; and they hoped to receive this satisfaction from it at the least, that they had not neglected any expedient which might preserve him who is the most fortunate, and unfortunate man both, that is in the whole universe.  
The end of the first Book in the first Part.   

ARTAMENES: OR CYRUS the Great. BOOK II.  
THE Design which Chrisantes and Feraulas undertook, was so Just, that Fortune, who is an enemy to Virtue, and was much incensed against the illustrious Artamenes, did seem to smile in lieu of frowning upon it. These two faithful servants, intending to assemble together those who had been dearest friends unto their Master, excepting against Medes, made choice of the King of Hyrcania, the Prince of the Caducians', and Thrasibulus, whom Artamenes sent to visit since his Arrest: Adusias and Artabaces met also in Council: Likewise all the rest of the Princes, except the King of Phrygia, who kept near Ciaxares, in hopes to mitigate his choler: who notwithstanding all endeavours to the contrary, was in all discourses concerning Artamenes much incensed against him. In conclusion, the King of Hyrcania, addresting himself unto Chrisantes, did entreat him, that since he had so great a share in the friendship and affection of Artamenes, and had also so long a time been related unto him, he would be pleased to inform them of all his Adventures, ever since he came into the Court of Ciaxares, also acquaint them with his birth, to the end that thereby they might happily find out some conveniency which might conduce unto his preservation, by the interest of that Prince, under whom he what born a subject, or at the least, to make use of some handsome pretence, which might keep Ciaxares in some suspense, until his anger was a little over. Furthermore, Hidaspes added, That Ciaxares his Army consisting of so many several Nations, he might perchance be one of them; if so, it were good to know his Country, because it would be a strong motive unto Ciaxares to be reconciled unto him, for by that consequence he might win the hearts of all those who have the honour to be born in the same Country, under the same Laws and Prince that Artamenes is: if he should prove to be born in an enemy's Country, than Ciaxares, it may be, considering he hath a man of that Concernment in his Power, will be sooner induced to Preserve him, as a means to draw some advantage from his enemies by it. As soon as Hidaspes had delivered his Vote, all the rest did concur and approve of it. Perhaps (added Thrasibulas,) by the knowledge of his story, we may come to discover the Reasons, why Artamenes held Intelligence with the King of Assiria, and what the Cause may be, that he will not reveal it unto Ciaxares; for these are the two mysterious Labyrinths which most amaze us. Sirs (answered Chrisantes) I apprehend it as a good Omen, that you should thus prevent the intentions of Feraulas and myself, for we came unto Hidaspes with the same design, and to assemble together all you whom good Fortune has thus happily brought unto this House: The sequel of my discourse will inform you, why we made choice of Hidaspes his house; and why we thought it fit, that so many famous Medes as were friends unto Artamenes do not meet here: In a word, Sirs we come to tell you who Artamenes is. Chrisantes had no sooner spoke that last syllable, but all the Princes interrupted him with Acclamations of Joy, and expressions of hope to have him of their Nation; No, said the King of Hircanias, I shall not be so happy as to have that Honour: The Prince of the Cadusians said the same, and all desired it, but tacitly confessed they were all unworthy to be Sovereigns over such a Subject, yet that he himself deserved to be Monarch of the whole world: In conclusion, all the Princes were full of impatiency till they knew it; and commanding that the door should be shut, lest the Narration should be disturbed, they sit down and pressingly desire Chrisantes to begin. Some did put it to the Question, Whether it were not fit they should stay for the King of Phrygia; but the major part did so burn with desire to know the original of him who had so highly demeaned himself, that they would not permit so long delay, but did double their entreaties, that Chrisantes would satisfy their longing desires: After he had paused a while, and recollected into his memory the Idea of so many great exploits as he had seen him perform, resolving to follow the course which was concluded between Feraulas and him, he began the Story.  

The History of Artamenes.  
MY task is to speak of things so wonderful, that I conceive it convenient to prepare you before hand, lest you should be startled with admiration: for indeed Sr (said he, addresting himself to the King of Hyrcania) the Birth and Life of Artamenes, is so full of extraordinary glorious and transcendent circumstances, as will hardly find belief in those who only hear and have not seen them: therefore I think it fit to protest unto you, that all is pure Truth which shall be related unto you, and if I shall chance to fail or lessen the Truth, it is the modesty of Artamenes, which hath accustomed me to conceal part of his Glory, and never to aggravate the greatness of his Acts. Nevertheless Sr, this Artamenes, whose Valour and Virtue has rendered him so Famous, is not lessened by the Greatness of that Prince who gave him Life: For Sr, when I shall tell you, that this Artamenes was before his birth Predestinated by the Gods to be a Terror unto all the Kings of the Earth, and that he is no other than CYRUS, Son of Cambyses King of Persia, I shall tell you nothing but what is most true, and what I shall very easily make appear. At this, Hidaspes and all present cried out; What (said they with one voice) is Artamenes CYRUS? Is Artamenes Son to the King of Persia? Artamenes (replied Chrisantes) is the very same I tell you; and by consequence of the most illustrious Family in the world, since his Predecessors the Valiant Perseus, derives his Pedigree, from the Son of Jupiter. But (said Hidaspes) Did not you confirm me in that opinion which all the world had, of his Shipwreck? And did not you yourself tell me, how you changed Masters after his death? and that he whom you then waited upon, was called Artamenes? Most true, Replied Chrisantes, I confess I did so, but I did it by the command of Cyrus, who desiring to pass under that Name, obliged me to call him so, and I will phrase him so throughout most of this Relation, to the end you may more easily understand it. In the sequel and conclusion of this my discourse, you shall know what were his reasons which moved him to assume this dignity. I must needs say (said Hidaspes) you had great reason to prepare those which hear you against wonder: But (said Artabases) Those have lost their reason who suspect the truth of it, when they shall consider on what affectionate terms of familiarity Chrisantes and Feraulas were linked unto him. There need not many Arguments (said the King of Hyrcania, speaking to Hidaspes, Adusius and Artabaces) to persuade me that Artamenes is Cyrus: It were more difficult to think that such an extraordinary man should be of a common extraction. For my part (said Thrasibulus) I have had some such thoughts ever since the first day I knew him: for his high Actions would not permit me to doubt of his Quality. Persodes Prince of the Cadusians, applying himself unto Hidaspes, Artabaces, Adusius, Chrisantes and Feraulas, said unto them; You are so highly honoured in being Subjects unto such a Prince, that I must needs think your glorious servitude excels my Sovereignty; and that it is a greater Honour to obey Cyrus, then to command a hundred thousand men. Hidaspes was so inflamed with desire of knowing more precisely all particulars concerning the Life of him, whose first Adventures he had been well acquainted with, as he desired Chrisantes to begin his story, from the first departure of Cyrus out of his fathers Court. But because Thrasibulus knew nothing, and the other Princes never heard of the Passages in the Court of Astyages, only by common voge, which often is a liar, therefore it were more expedient he should begin his whole story; so that the memory of those who knew the Passages might be revived, and Thrasibulus who was altogether ignorant in them, might be informed. Chrisantes then, after a little silence, in contriving the method of his discourse, and turning towards the King of Hyrcania, began thus. Sir, I will not abuse your Patience in Repetitions of Artamenes his most glorious descent: It will suffice to say his Name is Cyrus, and derived from the illustrious Race of Persides. This is enough to inform you, that there is not one more Noble in the world: Cyrus hath this advantage above others, that he is Sovereign of a people (if it befit a Persian to say it) amongst whom Virtue is loved, and vice abhorred with such disgust, that it dares not appear unless under a cloak of Virtue: Artamenes moreover (for so I will call him yet) has the glory to be subject unto a Prince and Princess, whose Applauds fills the story of all Nations, so that he derives nothing from them but what is most Noble and Heroicque. Now since the History of the King of Medes, does much conduce to the clearing of my relation, I shall be forced to fetch far off a foundation to build the rest of my discourse upon. Be pleased to remember, how the Ancient Kings of Assiria became Lords of all higher Asia; and how the wise and famous Deiocus Son of Phraortes, did incite his Countrymen, to rebel against their Tyrant Kings: and after he had got the Sovereignty of the Medes into his own Power, restored it into the hands of a Mede again: You know Sir, that this Great and Generous Prince, was Lineally descended from the Ancient Kings of Medes; and that it was he who ordained such excellent Laws; who built the stately Town of Ecbatane; and who reduced under his obedience all the state of his Ancestors, which were the Brussians, the Paratecenians, the Struchatians, the Arisentines, and the Budiens. After Deiocus, who reigned fifty three years, Phaortes his Son inherited the Crown, and reigned so peaceably, as if the Assyrians had never usurped. But being not content to sit quietly in the Throne of his Predecessors, he began to make war against the Persian, a People so rusted with more than a whole age of Peace, that they finding themselves assaulted by a most Martial People accustomed to conquer, and to prevent the utter desolation of their Country, complied with them; and Peace was so concluded, that the two Crowns of Persia and Media were inseparably interested; so that as often as Phraortes should stand in need of their Assistance, they were obliged to lend it: Here Sir, was the first Connexion of the Medes with the Persians. I need not relate how Phraortes, swelled with ambition, pronounced war against the King of Assiria, who slept securely in a downy bed of Peace within his own Dominions: Nor how, after he had reigned two and twenty years, and besieging the Town of Minos, perished in the attempt: Nor how after his death Ciaxares his Son, the first of that Name among the Kings of Medes, succeeded in the Kingdom: nor how Fortune was sometimes a friend, and sometimes a foe unto this Prince: for I know you are not ignorant, how in giving Battle to the Libyans, when he was at the very point of being victorious, it became so accidentally dark upon a sudden, that it was impossible for him to continue fight, and finish his almost got victory: You know also, that in besieging the Town of Minos (of which we spoke before,) intending to revenge the death of his Father Phraortes, who was killed before this Town, and being at the very point of taking it, Medea's King of the Scythians appeared with an Army of a hundred thousand men, within shot of his Camp: You know also, how this King lost the Battle unto the Scythians, and his Empire with it, but got again into the Throne; for this Invasion of the Scythians lasted not above eight and twenty years: You know also, that this Ciaxares not changing his Resentments with his fortunes, revived the war with the King of Assiria, and at last became Master of the Town of Minos: Then Sir, you know, how this first Ciaxares was Father unto Astyages, whom he left a quiet Inheritor of his Dominions: but as this Prince was born in a turbulent time, so I believe, that the restless spirit of the Father, was transmigrated into the soul of the Son, and imprinted such Melancholy thoughts in this Prince his Son, as caused him to pass his life with much inquietude; and was partly a cause of all those thwart in Artamenes his fortunes: He was married very young, and in a manner, doubtless extraordinary, though out of my memory. The Battle which the King his father lost unto Aliattes' King of Lydia, by reason of that obscurity which blinded both Armies, was a cause of this marriage; for after so strange an accident, the King of Medes consulted with the Priests, and Aliattes went unto the Temple of Diana at Ephesus, which by reason of the Oracles there, was grown in great repute: These Princes were told by the Priests and by the Oracle of Diana, that the Gods did express by this remarkable sign, they were not pleased with the war, but that they ought to resolve upon terms of Peace. The King of Sicily, who was a mediator in the matter, did so negotiate between them, that the King of Lydia, who had but one Daughter, Sister of Craessus, should marry her unto Astyages, the Son of his enemy: So you may collect by this, that the marriage which was made up so soon after the war of Lydia, gave me (some say) cause to say, that this Prince, born when the Stars had such tumultuous influence, received from them such troublesome Inclinations. As for his Reign Sir, because it is so late since it ended, it would be superfluous to relate it. Let it suffice to tell you, how he knowing that none of his Predecessors, ever since the Famous Deiocus had enjoyed their Kingdom in Peace, therefore he always stood upon his guard, and feared some Revolt: You know Sir, that he had by the Queen his wife, and sister of Craessus, Ciaxares who now reigns, and retains the invincible Artamenes prisoner: You know also that he had one Daughter called Mandana, an admirable Beauty, of great virtue and wisdom: That long since the Queen his wife died, and with her all his affections to any other, so that he would never marry more: Since this loss, all his thoughts are upon his young Son Ciaxares, and his young fair Daughter Mandana; endeavouring to keep himself peaceable within his own limits, without any attempts upon his Neighbours: And though he had the good fortune never to be in any considerable actual war, yet he had to be in continual preparations for it; sometimes against his ancient enemy the King of Assiria, sometimes against his Allies, and sometimes against his own Subjects; yet for all these inquietudes, which his perpetual turbulencies did procure him, his Court held up the proudest head in all Asia: For (as you know,) the Medes were always addicted to Magnificence and Pleasures, Astyages especially who was most of all devoted unto all manner of Diversions of his Melancholy and pensive cogitations: Ecbatane, was the fittest seat for it of all places in the world. This Prince therefore ever since the birth of his Son Ciaxares, did always every year Celebrate a certain day of public Jollity. It was his Custom to go himself unto the Temple to thank the Gods for his Son, and offer Prayers for his Preservation: The young Prince Ciaxares was then about sixteen, and the Princess his Sister about fourteen years of age: when one of these Festival Ceremonies were observed, there chanced a strange Accident, which did much disturb their Devotion and Jocandry; for as Astyages was going out of his Palace in the morning unto the Temple, and carried with him the Prince his Son, upon a sudden, the brightness of the day became all dully dim; and the Sun so eclipsed, as it cast such a black obscurity over the face of the whole earth, as none could almost distinguish each other; that little light which was, gave such a glooming shadow, as was most terrible to them all: This Accident extremely troubled Astyages: The People took it for no good Omen; for though those which saw this Eclipse, had seen others also, yet this was much more affrighting than they, as well because it was much greater, as because it happened upon such a remarkable day: Insomuch as they did think it more than a mere cursary and natural accident, and concluded it to be a Comet or some sign from Heaven, by which the Gods did portend and advertise the King and People of some important matter. Some remembered that terrible darkness which affrighted Ciaxares the Father of Astyages; and 〈◊〉 none made it any question but it was an advertisement from Heaven, to move the t Kings of Medes and Lydia unto Peace, and therefore they thought this Comet to signify some such thing. To be short, every one vented his peculiar fancy, and explained the meaning of it according to his own capricious humour: Some said it might presage the King's death: others feared the destruction of the Empire: Some, the loss of the Prince his Son, and all did Augur mourning consequents. But although this obscurity did much amaze them, yet that which followed this Eclipse did absolutely confound them; for after it had continued thus dark four complete hours, the Sun, contrary to its common natural course, discovered itself all at once in an instant; and was so hot, so clear, and of a light so transplendent, as it blinded all them who durst gaze upon it: the heat no less extreme than the brightness, for it was so excessive, as the People thought all the earth set on fire. All this while Astyages, who was always naturally too apprehensive and superstitious of such Accidents, and was fully persuaded that the Priests knew almost all things future; therefore he assembled them together, and commanded them to consider seriously, what might be the meaning of this Prodigy: Doubtless Sir, you know how these men lead theirlives, which afford them leisure enough to contemplate these celestial Signs; and have so deep an inspection into the influence of Stars, that they can by them oftentimes divine long before, what shall afterwards come to pass. The Gods also, do sometimes inspire them by secret ways which are unknown unto the vulgar: Their Answers are as certain as Oracles, and have this advantage above them, that they have much more cleverness, and far less riddle in them then Oracles use to have: so that Astyages, having got them together as I formerly said; and after they had prayed unto the Gods, and contemplated the Stars, they told the King (having prepared him beforehand to receive patiently whatsoever they should tell him, lest he should break into any violent passion) That according unto their speculations, those gifts, and that knowledge which they had received from Heaven, this great Eclipse, which had such supernatural Courses, did signify either his own death, or the Princes his Sons, or the decline 〈…〉 his Sovereign Authority: As for the two first of these, they told him, that they 〈…〉 onceive it should be either of them; because they had heretofore, according to his 〈…〉 and's Calculated both their Nativities, and had collected several Astronomical Observations concerning both their Lives; they always found and concluded, that both their Lives should be long; therefore, they must by Consequence conclude, that it Portends decay in Dominion; and that universal revolution threatens all Asia, particularly Medea; and that it shall be upon them suddenly, unless they make some happy use of those Advertisements which Heaven does signify unto them, as Ciaxares his Father had done before him. Astyages was Planetstruck with this discourse; and conceiving that out of fear, the Priests had not yet revealed all they knew, did press them further to declare their full knowledge: In conclusion, they told him, that in their opinions it was to be feared the extraordinary brightness which followed the darkness, and the Suns so sudden discovering itself in an instant, did signify that the Prince his Son, following too much the Counsels of Ambitious spirits, would one day usurp his Crown: The darkness did signify his Power, which should also be obscured; and the brightness did signify the sudden splendour of the young Prince: But yet, for all this there was a Remedy; for the Gods did not admonish Men in vain: But that the King his Father when he was forewarned, did appease them, in making Peace with Lybia: And so likewise ought he to render himself submissive unto them; by Sacrifices, by Prayers, and by his Virtues: and that he ought to have extraordinary care, in placing Wise and Prudent men about the young Prince, such as should infuse sapient Instructions into him, and root out of his mind all those corrupt seeds, which ill disposed men had sowed: The King no sooner heard what these magic Priests had said, but he was fully satisfied: for though his natural disposition was always prompt, and superstitious in such things, yet he had some apparent colour for this, because Ciaxares his Son did begin to put forth some ambitious buds: and all his inclinations were Grandeur and Dominion: Also he had many about him who fomented this natural propensity, so that the thoughts of Astyages no sooner reflected upon him, but he imagined him in his Throne, snatching the Sceptre out of his hand, and throwing him into Prison. You may imagine Sir, how disgustive this discourse was unto the soul of a Prince, who prized his Crown above his Life, but who in spite of all jealous resentments, did yet retain the affection of a Father towards a Son. In the mean while, he charged the Priests not to publish what they had told him; fearing that it might cause his ruin if they did: and that if his Son should come to the knowledge of it, he might chance think it no Crime to make bold with the Crown, since it seemed to be the pleasure of the Gods to have it so: Therefore, he gave express command unto them, that they should tell the Prince his Son, and divulge it unto all the People, how this Eclipse had nothing extraordinary in it; that the Circumstance of Day upon which it happened, was a mere Casualty, from whence no ill consequences can be drawn; and that they should not cease their Prayers unto the gods for his good fortune: The Priests were obedient unto his commands, but he did not reap that profit from their obedience which he expected. For since the People were told it threatened no evil, they apprehended and feared much more: The young Prince did imagine, that perhaps the Magicians found it foretold his death: so that both Court and People were in great disorder: The King did all he could to testify he harboured no ill apprehensions in his mind: yet for all that in the midst of the feasting jollities, which were sumptuously prepared for his diversion, and disguise of his melancholy thoughts, one might see him troubled, and his mind much disquieted. His heart was possessed with two Passions at once; Paternal affection towards a Son, contending with Jealousy of his Sovereign Authority: so that it was easy to conclude, he was not at peace within himself: he loved the Crown as well as he did his Son; and perhaps was biased on that side more than the other, as the sequel presently after made it appear; for advising with himself by what expedients he should divert the young Ciaxares from his aspiring thoughts, he concluded the best was to send him far off from Court, where the Grandees of State were always resident, and who all looked upon him, as one, who one day should be their King, which was dangerous to a disposition too apt already to hearken unto ill council; yet this resolution of removing him, was not without much anxiety and sorrow: for he feared, lest this course should more incense Ciaxares, for (said he to himself) as long as he is with me, and under my eye, I shall need no spies to observe his actions, I shall myself be a witness of them: but when he is in a far off Country, whom shall I trust to be his Protector? may it not be well supposed, that many ill disposed persons will there speak aloud, that which here they dare not so much as think? In conclusion Sir, when he had throughly argued the matter, and weighed every Circumstance, he conceived he had found out a safer 〈◊〉 then to remove him; for when he remembered, that the King of Cappadocia had but one 〈…〉 ghter living, under the tuition of the Queen her Mother, he thought that if he could bring about a Match between her and his Son Ciaxares, it would be an excellent way to remove him, without giving him any occasion of complaint, and without any appearance of any close design in it. Moreover, it might probably be conjectured, that the putting one Crown upon his Son's head, would satisfy his young Ambition, from aspiring unto the other, and stifle all usurping designs against his Father: To be short, he apprehended so much advantage in this Match, as he bended all his endeavours to bring it about. I will not trouble you Sir, with relating all the Passages in transacting it, nor the rubs he met withal in the negotiation; for I do suppose you are not ignorant of a Law in Cappadocia, which permits not their Kings to marry their Daughters unto any strange Princes, lest their Kingdom should become subject unto the dominion of a Foreigner; yet Astyages acted his part so well, and with such good success, as the Marriage was concluded: for he found it out by chance, that Ciaxares was born in Cappadocia: For the Queen his Mother going a Pilgrimage to visit a famous Temple which was in that Country, fell sick when she was great with child, and was delivered of Ciaxares within the confines and jurisdiction of Cappadocia. At last, he married his Son Ciaxares, unto this young Queen, whose Beauty and Virtue might be rated at a higher value than her Crown: As soon as she was married, the Queen her Mother died: the People resented her death as a punishment for not precisely observing the fundamental Law of the Land. Mean while, Astyages is secure, finding his Son wondrous well pleased with his condition. Also that the Crown of Cappadocia, and the Virtue of the Princess his Wife, did highly contribute unto his happiness, and that Ciaxares so esteemed of it. After this Marriage, all Pleasures and Delights do bid adieu to Ecbatane: The young Princess Mandana, Daughter to Astyages, will needs depart from that Court, wherein she was so adored; for since the absence of the Prince h●● brother, there was none could obtain any thing from the King her Father but by her intercession. Amidst this calm serenity and universal quietness, Astyages had a most odd and horrid Dream, which is talked on by every one. As he was in consultation again with his Priests, concerning the accidents of his Life; they told him, how they found, that all their former Prediction was in a likelihood to fail; but that infallibly, the Princess his Daughter should have a Son, who would make himself Master of all Asia, and by consequence should possess this Throne in lieu of his Son Ciaxares; and who, to conclude, should cause a general Revolution. Astyages, contrary to his old custom, had much ado, to believe a Tale so unlikely to prove true, and for a long time rejected the Priests, thinking all their Predictions to be no better than lies, since they so failed in their first. But those extravagant visions, and operations of his fancy did perplex him so many nights together, that he began to think again, that there might be some truth in their speeches; yet this had not caused him to fear the menaces of these signs so much (though Dreams were much considerable among the Medes, especially their Priests, who believed them to be the ordinary ways, by which the Gods did communicate themselves: unto men) if other signs also had not concurred, and augmented his fears, and seemed to authorize them. The Princess Mandana, who knew nothing of all these Passages, being one night in her Closet, which was illuminated by many Lamps of Crystal, it was told her, the King her Father intended a visit, for Astyages was resolved to entertain himself with her, in hopes to temper his disturbed mind, by the moderation of this Princess society; who, without doubt, was as virtuous as ever any: He no sooner was settled in the Room, but all the Lamps did immediately of themselves extinguish, only one which was just over the head of Mandana, which still retained its light, and doubled that which all the other had lost: Astyages, more troubled at this Prodigy, then at all his Dreams, consulted afresh with his Magicians, who assured him that this was an infallible sign his Sovereignty should cease, and be all in subjection unto that one Son which Mandana should be mother of, according unto the dreams which before they had interpreted unto him: The next day after when the Princess was at the Temple, the Earth quaked, and all the ornaments of the Church fell to the ground, except the Image of a young Child, which still stood upright, holding a bow in his hand: The Magicians construed this Child to Emblem that which should be born of Mandana, and become the love of all Nations, but absolute Master of the most noble part of all the world. Since these accidents and reiterated prodigies, the heart of Astyages was all fear; The Princess which before was his only joy, is now the cause of all his sorrow; Yet truly he suffered not alone, for she was sharer with him, though in a far different manner; so that when she knew what Expositions the Magicians had made concerning Ciaxares and herself, this wise Princess went to her Father, and most humbly desired him not to trouble himself concerning her, for she assured him, that if he thought it fit she would never marry; and by that means the menaces which aim at him should all become void; or rather than her life should cause his disgurst, she would resolve her death, and think it a happiness to be a victim which would appease the angry gods, and restore him unto his souls tranquillity: she told him that she thought it but her duty to value his satisfaction before her own life. When Astyages heard his daughter thus express herself, in lieu of being moved at it, he did believe she acted some piece of dissimulation: and that it was some fears made her speak so confidently: Moreover, he bethought himself of a Prince his Ally called Artambases, who was captivated by the beauty of the Princess, and who entertained some far fetched hopes of her favour. Astyages thought this Prince (who indeed was of a nature ambitious) might become the father of that child which he so much feared, so that without returning any answer to what the Princess had so submissively said, he sternly commanded her not to stir out of her Chamber, and prepare herself to be obedient unto whatsoever he should command: The Princess after she had promised an absolute, though blind obedience, retired. Astyages remained in the room and in a most restless mind: he could neither resolve of his daughter's death, nor put any confidence in her promise of never marrying: for (thought he) though her resolution perhaps for the present be so, yet Artambases in conclusion will win upon her, or perchance make head against me without her consent; she is young and fair, and by consequence may be tempted beyond her green resolutions, therefore it is dangerous to confide in her words; though I should in close her, Love will break the strongest walls, and deliver her either by power or policy: If I should let her be at liberty they would court her before my face against my will, so that I know not what to do, or what to think upon: but at last since he had no mind to destroy her, he thought it the best course to marry her, yet to marry her so as in all likelihood there might be no fear of what the Fares threatened. After he had a while thus wandered in his own discomposed thoughts, he remembered himself of Cambyses who lately succeeded in the Kingdom of Persia by his Father's 〈◊〉▪ him Astyages thought most fit to be his guard from all his fears: For (said he) I am sure the Persians are not ambitious: but they are just, and contented with their own, without any thoughts of enlarging limits: they securely rest themselves upon the downy Bed 〈…〉 peace, and will never disturb that soft repose in any hopes of uncertain conquests 〈◊〉 I know Cambyses in particular doth as much exceed other Princes in point of 〈◊〉 as the Persians in general exceeds all other people of the world: He governs his 〈◊〉 by Laws, not will: So that he is a father as well as a King unto his Subjects: Moreover the Kingdom of Persia is not so absolute but that it retains some shadow of a Common wealth, where many will not soon induced to undertake a war as one single man may be: nor hath ambition so predominate an influence upon a Senate, as it hath over the mind of an absolute Prince. In conclusion, Sir, (not to lengthen my Story with what is absolutely necessary) be pleased to know that the King of Medes resolved upon this Marriage, and presently propounded it unto Cambyses, who resenting it with much joy, sent his Ambassadors unto Ecbatane to court the Princess. Astyages who himself procured the match, you may be sure would not refuse it, but presently consented, and sent the Princess his daughter into Persia. She, according to her accustomed virtue, is all obedience, and in a short time after, thought herself the happiest Princess in the world, when she found her husband owner of so many admirable qualities, and received from him such ample testimonies of his affection towards her: To be short, Astyages, according to all appearances, seemed to rest in much satisfaction and security; and Ciaxares his Son was likely to succeed him in peace: Also the Princess his daughter was settled in so calm a Country, that according to all prudential appearances there was not any resemblance of a war to arise: But this serenity lasted not long in the soul of Astyages: Mandana was no sooner settled, but he reputes of the match, and endeavours to get her again into his power. That which stirred upon his jealousy, and begot new fears was, because all the sacrifices which he offered unto the gods, did seem to be all rejected: And the Magicians who since his dreams had much busied themselves in contemplation of the stars, and observation of other celestial motions, did all unanimously conclude, that the great Revolution which threatened Medea was at hand; and that they did every day more and more freshly discover the malignancy of those Constellations, which did portend a dire confusion to it; Insomuch as that there was more necessity to prepare how to endure it, than ways how to prevent it. Things standing thus, Astyages sends to entreat Cambyses, that he would be pleased to permit the Queen his wife to come unto him. The Queen, although she was well acquainted with the humorous disposition of the King her Father, did desire her Husband that he would be pleased, she might have leave to pay this satisfaction unto him who gave her life, for since she knew her Father's restless soul, she was in some hopes to qualify him: And though she loved Cambyses infinitely, yet she was contented, rather to leave him for a time, then cause a war between him and her Father, which might chance to arise upon a refusal, Cambyses, although extremely tender over the Queen his wife, was yet so complacential as to send her into Medea in an equipage befitting her quality: and to make her appear more Glorious in the Medean Court where she was brought up, then before she did; the King her Husband, conducted her to the frontiers, and there bad adieu with as much affectionate ceremony as is imaginable: As for Mandana, she feared the King her Father would keep her for the satisfaction of his mind, and to free himself from all his jealousies and fears, so likewise her soul was sensible of much sorrow, when she feared also that her Husband would not so part with her: but for this time they parted, Cambyses to Persipolis, and melancholy Mandana to Ecbatane, where at first she was received with abundance of Joy, so that Astyages was more at hearts ease than he could have imagined: Before she was married, many dissuaded him from it, but now since she was married and so far from her Husband, he could not conceive any thing possible to disturb his quiet. He foresaw that if he should retain her long, and she desirous to depart, perhaps a war might thereupon arise 'twixt him and the Persian, but he valued that less, then to see Mandana in a condition to have a Son: so than all was filled with welcomes, feasts and jocundary; insomuch as the Princess began to be in some hopes she should be deceived in her former fears. Yet amid all these pleasant diversions, her health began to impair, and visible marks of indisposition appeared in her complexion: she believed the cause might proceed from her weariness in her journey, or from the change of (though her native) air; only it might be her resentments of her Husband's absence; but within a little after, she certainly perceived she was with child; and this troubled her so much as she fell absolutely sick: for she concluded it questionless, that her Father would not suffer her to return in that condition: and if she should so chance as to be delivered of a Sound in Ecbatane, the best of her expectations would be an exchange of his Cradle for a Prison, or so ordered that she should not have the dispose of her own Child. Sometimes she imagined her Husband angry with her for concealing from him her Father's humour, and so 〈◊〉 troubled thoughts did disturb her as she stood in need of all her Constancy to concealed Melancholy: Mean while, she resolves to conceal her Condition as long as she can: 〈◊〉 keeps her Chamber continually, and for the most part, her bed. A while after she complains of the Air in Ecbatan: and intends a request unto the King her Father, that she may return into Persia, or else that he would be pleased to permit her, to go unto a fair house in the Country, about some five miles from Ecbatan, conceiving that place was most fit to conceal her condition in: But as ill-luck would have it, one of the Physicians which came to visit her, discovered the truth, in spite of all her care to conceal it: for she often complained of so many untrue distempers, thinking thereby to delude them, and divert them from knowing the true cause, as made them more inquisitive. The Physician, hoping to be a welcome intelligencer, told Astyages she was with Child: so that when the Queen presented her desires unto her Father, she was handsomely denied and told, this was much better Air, so that if she were in Persia so ill as she is, he would wish her in Medea for recovery of her health; this being both her native, and incomparably better Air then that of Persipolis, therefore he would by no means have her think of return: That he would most willingly consent unto her desires of going into the Country, if he could be persuaded it were better, for Ecbatan had more pleasant Gardens by much, and the Court was fitter for diversion of her melancholy, than any Country solitude could be: therefore he desired her to remain where she was. Presently after, all her women about her are removed, and others put in their rooms: The time of her delivery drew near, and Astyages is fuller, if fuller possible can be, of new fears: In few words Sir, Mandana is delivered of a Son; and timorous Astyages causeth his confident Harpagus to take it, with express charge to carry it closely into some remote Mountain, and there leave it amongst Tigers in the wilderness: This Prince was so inhuman, as he would have presently killed him, but the Gods restrained him from a fact so foul: Harpagus being somewhat less cruel than he, would not at that time do it, but faithfully promised it should be done: and not daring to be seen in the destruction of this Infant, he committed it unto the execution of a Shepherd called Methridates, who dwelled at the bottom of a great Mountain in the wilderness, whom he sent for, and commanded him to do with this Child, as he had received charge. And be pleased to know Sir, that this Shepherd carried this Child away, which was the fairest that ever eye beheld: During the time that this Shepherd was at the Town with Harpagus, his Wife chanced to be delivered of a dead Child: the Shepherd brings this live one to her, which presently began to Laugh upon her, she took in her arms, and forsaking the Corpse of her own dead Child, took the care of this fair Little one, and would never let her Husband rest until he consented: As for the dead Child, he threw it out amongst the wild beasts, to be there torn in pieces. This poor Nurse whose Name was Spaco, thought no more of the dead one, but resolved to become Nurse unto the other who she knew to be of some high quality, by the Mantle in which the Child was leapt, it being made of cloth of gold. You may see Sir, It had been an easy matter for Methridates (living at the foot of a desert mountain far off, but towards the north of Ecbatane, and the Euxean bridge) to have put this Child to death, and never fear discovery in a place so rude and desert: And you know Sir, as well as I, that all the parts of Medea towards Aspires, are mountainous wild forests covered with woods, and filled with savage beasts. Be pleased Sir to know further, that this Methridates, putting his own dead Child into the Cradle which was very rich, and which brought Mandanaes', showed it unto those which Harpagus sent thither to see it: These men taking it, carried it unto their Master Harpagus, who having acquainted Astyages with it, received orders to entomb it amongst the Kings of Medea. Thus you see Sir, the Son of a Shepherd in a Royal Sepulchre, and the Son of a great King in a Shepherds poor Cottage: Know also, how Astyages caused it to be divulged about the Court, that Mandanaes' Son died of some disease, and told the same unto the Princess: he sent also unto Cambyses to condole the loss: But poor Mandana all this while, although she did more than suspect the truth, yet she with much ado continued in her Constancy, and took no notice: And though the deep melancholy which dwelled in her eyes, did witness as much, yet since it could not be helped, she would not discover the cause, nor infuse any jealousies of it into her Husband's thoughts. The better to colour her grief, she desired the second time leave to go into the Country, which now without any repugnance is consented unto: And Astyages sent afterwards unto her, to let her know, that if she pleased, she might return into Persia; for he had this conceit, that it was the first Son of Mandana, only whom he had to fear, which being secured, he was then glad to be rid of the Mother, whom if she should detain any longer, would by her extremity of sorrow draw a thousand reproaches upon himself. As soon as this Liberty is obtained, she presently returns to Cambyses, unto whom she opened not a syllable of her troubled soul, but attributed the alteration of her Complexion unto her absence from him, and her sorrows for the death of her Son. I am forced Sir, to be a little longer than is fitting in the relation of my Masters strange Infancy, who though all this while in a poor Shepherds homely Cottage, was notwithstanding Apprehensive of those Glories which belong unto a Kingdom: Be pleased Sir, to know in few words, that this young Prince, though then unknown unto himself or any else to be one, did then act the part of a King, and caused himself to be called so amongst all the neighbour's Children, which played with him when he was but ten years of age: He made himself feared, loved and obeyed amongst them, as if he had been really their absolute Prince; One day, having punished one of the boys whom he called subjects, for some offence committed, the Father of that Child so punished, chanced to be an Officer in the King's house; who coming to the knowledge of this passage, and wondering that this young poor Shepherd's Son should act the part of a King so well, told Astyages of it, and infinitely extolled the beauty and boldness of this Child: The King caused him to be sent for, and asked the Child why he punished the other boy: the Child did return so quick an answer, as struck the King into a wonder, seeing him speak unto a King with as much confidence, as if he had been among the boys: Moreover, Astyages was infinitely astonished, to see this Son of a poor Shepherd, so much resemble his Daughter Mandana, as never two were more like: Indeed, he had some secret suspicions in his soul, which told him, it was the same that he suspected him to be. In conclusion Sir, Astyages could not be satisfied, until he sent for the Shepherd himself out of his Cottage, and ask him in a terrible tone, and with stern looks, where he got this Child; the poor simple Methridates, thinking the King had known the passage, and being terrified with the King's looks and question, confessed the whole story. The King, in spite of all his fears, could not choose but like and love this admirable Child; and after he had assembled all the Magicians, they told him (whether it was the truth of their thoughts, or whether it was their pity which moved them to dissemble, I know not) that the Royalty which this Child had exercised over the boys, was an infallible sign that the Gods had heard their prayers, and that all the Dominion which this young Prince should have over the Medes, was limited and confined unto that which he hath exercised over the boys, so that there need no more fears of him: They further told him, that the Gods do sometimes threaten great Princes by these Prodigies, only lest they should forget that duty which they owe unto them: and in conclusion they told him, that if he would be pleased to follow their advice, he should send this young Prince unto the King of Assiria his Father. Astyages who conceived many affectionate thoughts of this Child, was glad of the advice, and being himself of a weak soul, relied much upon the judgement of these Magicians, and was fully persuaded, that this imaginary Royalty, was the fulfilling of his Dream; and truly Sir, as the case stands now with Artamenes, it is apparent that Astyages has no reason to fear Cyrus: yet though he permitted this young Prince to live, whom he named Cyrus, he would not pardon Harpagus, for he banished him the Court and Kingdom: This man, who would neither be absolutely pitiful, nor absolutely cruel, is left without support or refuge, and compled to the rigour of a long exile. Nevertheless (as I know you are not ignorant) Astyages sent Cyrus unto Cambyses his Father, writing this excuse unto him, That to prevent certain malignant Constellations which threatened this Child, he out of his affection was forced to hide him, and cause his sorrows in divulging him dead; but this sorrow will quickly change itself into a double recompense of joy, when he shall see him living, so well, and so amiable. Cambyses received him with unexpressible joy; and the wise Mandana gave as many thanks unto her Father Astyages, as ever she received causes of displeasure from him; though she had learned the truth of the story by the information of Harpagus, who was fled thither and told her all, in hopes thereby to procure himself Protection. And though she could not be convinced, that Astyages was so innocent as he made himself, yet by the knowledge of what was past, she was instructed how to prevent the like for the future: Mean while, the young Cyrus is in Persipolis: for joy of whose welcome, both public and private Sacrifices are made throughout all Persia; and for whose Education, all men of high parts throughout the whole Kingdom are employed: When Ciaxares heard of these passages, he sent unto Cambyses and the Queen his Sister, to congratulate their good Fortunes in finding their Son; and he writ in a high Compliment unto the Queen, how he wished his Daughter Mandana might hereafter become worthy to be the Mistress of Cyrus, whose fame filled all the world: This young Princess was born unto the King of Cappadocia, about three years after the birth of Cyrus, and had the Name of her Aunt Mandana given unto her? Now Sir, to tell you how young Cyrus was educated would but abuse your Patience, for his high achievements since, does sufficiently demonstrate it unto all the world: I shall only tell you, that both the King and Queen's endeavours were with all possible care to infuse such good dispositions as now appears to be in him: For all men find, in all his actions and all his words, something so sweet, so high, so complacential, and so full of goodness, as it is an absolute impossibility to know him and not to love him. He was marvellous well proportioned, exceeding fair, and as this charming Symmetry did from his very infancy appear in all parts of his body, yet his soul and spirit was infinitely above it. Perhaps you know, that in Persipolis there is a pleasant, spacious place, called the place of Liberty, in one Quarter thereof stands the King's Palace: None inhabit within this square but Grandees, and wisest sort of Persians: for wisdom in that Nation is no less valued than Nobility by descent, which also is in very high esteem: It was within this famous Quadrangle, wherein none but persons of great wisdom and Nobility did live, that the young Cyrus was educated. Amongst us, all private men do breed their children with as much care as if they were to be all Kings, and are persuaded that to be men, and to be virtuous are terms inseparable: Cyrus coming out of a poor uncouth shepherd's Cottage, unto this most famous and learned Academy: it was a wonder that nature should furnish him with as much prudence and wisdom, as if he had been brought up here from his Cradle. He had for his Tutors in virtue, the wisest which could be culled out of the Old Doctors: Active young men for the exercise of his body, and a younger sort for his recreation, which were well educated in all virtuous qualities: Great care was had to prevent all sorts of vicious persons from coming about him, lest they should chance to corrupt his own natural sweet inclinations, for they knew well, that if the soul of a Prince who must rule over a People be once poisoned, the people also will be infected, though here he saw none but examples of goodness and virtue. Moderation, Liberality, Justice, Valour, and all the virtues were so eminent in him, and got him so much applause among the Persians, that they extolled him as a Child sent from Heaven rather to instruct, then be instructed by them: But I fear Sir, that I have already transgressed my limits, and by consequence abused your Patience, especially those Persians which hear me, because perhaps they know these things better than I myself. My Master lived in this Quality until his sixteenth year of Age, And then Fortune began to offer him opportunities of discovering the greatness and generosity of his soul, both in his words and Acts; And to put in practice that greatness of spirit which his youth did promise: you remember Sir, how Harpagus was banished by the King of Medes for not exactly obeying his commands in putting to death this young Cyrus; This exile had formerly been of great power in Medea, being so in such favour with the King as he made him Governor in one of his greatest Provinces: This man did endeavour to reconcile himself unto Astyages, but all in vain: he was in this discontent forced to travel from Court to Court to find out protection and relief from those Princes which were enemies unto the King of Medes; and being some certain days disguised in Persipolis, found out an opportunity to discover himself: His habit was Persian, he mingled himself among the multitude which waited upon the Prince to hunt, and having the language of the Country passable enough, he was not known to be a stranger. Cyrus was lively and active at the sports, and none are less tired, or more bold and forward at these sports than he, either in following the Chase, or assaulting the wild Beast at a Bay: He drew a bow, threw a dart, and used a sword admirable well: he was always victor in the public games, and bore away the prize; but to return to Harpagus: he did follow Cyrus very close at this great hunting whereof I spoke; and waited upon him so near, when the Prince followed a wild bore so eagerly and fast through the thick of the Forest, lest he should lose sight of the bore, as none of all the Persians was able to follow, only Harpagus: Cyrus overtook this wild Beast, bend his bow, and shot an arrow through his heart: After this Victory, whereof Harpagus only was a witness, he sat down, and rested himself until some of his own servants came in upon a bank close by a little brook, which ran across the Forest in that place: In all these chases it is the custom of the Country for Hunters to carry a Bow, a Quiver, a Sword, and two Javelins: This gallant young Hunter wore them all, and his Buckler also, for them also they use in hunting as well as wars; Is he was thus sitting, Harpagus drew near him: Cyrus who had not yet seen him, took him for a Persian, began to show him the Prize, and cried out, I have killed him, I have killed him: but Harpagus, kneeling upon the ground, told him, that he knew how he might obtain a more glorious victory than this: The Prince, thinking the man had discovered some greater Boar than this which he had killed, rose up, and asked him heartily whether he should go to get this victory? Into the head of an Army of thirty thousand men (answered Harpagus) which I come to offer unto you; so that if you please to accept of it, you may make yourself Lord of a Kingdom: Cyrus astonished at his words looked upon him more earnestly than before, and supposing he had seen him formerly, Who are you (said he) that make this gallant offer? I cannot yet think myself worthy of it, since my valour was never tried against any but Bear, Boars, Lions and Tigers? I am Sir (said he) one that is sent by the gods to tender you a brave opportunity of getting immortal glory. If all be true you say (said Cyrus) show me the way I must take, and let it be as difficult as it can be, I will follow it with all alacrity. I have already told you Sir (said Harpagus) you must repair unto the head of an Army of Thirty thousand men, which wait for your commands, and to conquer when you bid them. It becomes not him to command (replied Cyrus) who hath not yet learned how to obey, it is far fitter I should be their Companion then their General. But I pray you (Noble Stranger, whom I think I have seen before though not remember you) tell me where this Army is, and who they are, also who is the Enemy, and what the Kingdom you would have me conquer. Sir (answered Harpagus) I am not at all unreasonable in my desires, when I wish your assistance against a King who hath basely broken the Laws of humanity against a Prince who is both the Love and Wonder of all which know him; A King I say who hath acted against Nature, Reason, and Justice; who by an ill governed ambitious jealousy would against all humanity or conscience take away the life of such a Prince, in whose behalf I now salute you; It is in the Behalf of a hopeful, young, innocent Prince, and against such an unnatural unworthy King I desire to animate you: It nearly concerns your own honour to condescend unto my desires: Your desire (answered Cyrus) is too full of justice to be denied: And not to keep me any longer from this Army which you desire I should repair unto; Inform me who is this barbarous King, and who is the injured Prince: for I do much wonder since I have been so carefully informed of all the prime passages of the world, I should not guess at them both: Sir (then answered Harpagus) you are the Prince which owes revenge. Yes, (said Cyrus.) And by whom Noble Stranger can I be injured? I who have hardly yet begun to live, I who ever since I first breathed have been rocked in a Cradle of slumbering Peace, who never had enemies in all my life, and who never yet was enemy unto any, but such wild beasts as these which infest the Forests? Sir (replied Harpagus, who perceived several Hunters to come from several Quarters of the Wood:) If you please to go a little further into the wood, and lend me your audience, you shall understand that you have enemies, and more terrible ones then you imagine; such, as if you do not make open war upon them will make a secret one upon you, and that in such a manner as may perhaps become most fatal to you. Cyrus, according to his desire, stepped some twenty or thirty paces into the Wood, and beckoned with his hand unto those which followed, that they should not approach; Then looking most attentively upon Harpagus, Is it possible (said he to him) that what you tell me can be true? and that you should know my life better than I do myself? And since you have told me who the Prince is, pray tell, who is his enemy? Sir (answered Harpagus) the King of Medes is he, who endeavoured to kill you, and who will yet kill you, if you kill not him first. How (said Cyrus, more amazed then before) is Astyages my enemy? and is there a necessity I must be his? no, no, (said he) it must not be; but if he have any enemies, I pray tell me them, that in his behalf I may fight, and overcome them, if I can. But to undertake a war against him is a thing I neither can, nor will, nor aught to do. Astyages is Father of that Queen whose Son I have the honour to be, and I must look upon him as one who gave life unto her who gave me mine: neither can I forget how he treated me, with many testimonies of his affection to me: It was he who had a tender care of my life at my birth, and caused those reports of my death to no other end, but to make me live: It was he who brought me out of the poor Shepherds homely house unto a Prince's Throne; It is he who hath deserved my Love, my humble requests, and good opinion. Cyrus' having ended his reply, Harpagus desired leave to speak, and related unto him the whole passages, of which the Prince had hitherto been ignorant, for the Queen his Mother spoke not a word of it unto him ever since his return: Harpagus began then to aggravate the cruelty of Astyages, and to assert the truth of his information, by this infallible proof, that he himself was the man, who received that bloody command to kill him, from the mouth of Astyages: yet he durst not tell unto Cyrus, how he left him with Methridates to do it for him; but he rather related, as if he was the means whereby he was preserved: at last he told him, how he had received Intelligence from the Province of Paretacenes, that if he would please to command all those forces which they would bring into the field, and Personally appear amongst them, all Medea might easily be conquered: Cyrus harkened very attentively unto this discourse, and paused a good while before he answered: at last, he said to Harpagus with a countenance more dejected then before; I know not Harpagus whether I should be angry with you, or whether I should thank you, but I am sure you have made me very sad, in telling me that I should be the innocent subject of that Prince's injustice, in whose Honour I have such an interest: But Sir (answered Harpagus) your own Honour ought to be considered in the first place: Therefore it is (replied Cyrus) that revenge is not permitted me: Cruel friend, said he to him; what Propositions do you come to make me? you offer me an Army, which I have a desire (but dare not) to accept of? you tell me of an Enemy whom I must not fight with; and you propound so many just and so many unjust things all together, that it is impossible but my thoughts must waver at them: Yet know Harpagus, though I have ardent desires of Glory, to become Famous, and to Conquer Crowns, at least deserve them, yet I cannot now accept of your offer; And though I am arrived at that age which ought to give some tokens of valour, yet it is requisite as well that I give some testimonies of my Temperance; Ha Harpagus, what would you have me do? why did you not tell me of some lawful Enemy? Sir (answered Harpagus very coldly,) I had thought that the King of Medes injuries had been convincing reasons for you to dispense with those obligations of Consanguinity, which otherwise would have required respect from you: but since I am (it seems) deceived, it becomes me Sir to be silent, and to be no more sensible of those affronts which are put upon you, than yourself are: and since you are pleased to testify your temperance so far, as to forget your own injuries, I shall perhaps (whilst I pass the rest of my days in exile for saving you) be sorry that Cyrus, Son to the wise Cambyses, and virtuous Mandana, should sink under the wrongs of the King of Medes, who without all question will attempt upon his illustrious life either by Poniard or Poison: upon Cyrus, I say, from whom such high acts are expected, and who may now if he had but a mind, take a full revenge, prevent the storm, preserve the Persian ancient Laws and Liberties, become Lord of a large Kingdom, and perhaps of all Asia; him whom the Gods by so many Prodigies do invite unto Sovereign Dominion, and act as I propound unto him; and who tell him that if he undertake this war, if he ransack all Medea, conquer all the Land, and mount into the Throne of Astyages, he than does no more, but what is just, and the pleasure of the Gods for him to do. If it were their pleasure to have it so (answered Cyrus sharply) they can tell how to bring it to pass without my intermeddling: However, I do not conceive it Just, and I am resolved never to wear a Crown upon unjust terms. Kingdoms are not got without Combat (answered Harpagus,) and Glory is a Cruel Mistress, which will never be enjoyed by any but such as Court her in a field full of dangers. I shall expose myself unto dangers enough (replied Cyrus) in not destroying him whose design is to destroy me: But let me entreat your Patience Harpagus, until we can do it more Nobly, and if I be not much deceived, I shall acquit myself with more Honour in this innocent war within these woods, then in that: Mean time, to make it manifest, that I am indulgent towards Astyages, so I will be just to you, know, that if you shall inform me of any other, who shall be culpable of the like injuries, he shall not escape my revenge: For your part, Harpagus, since you would not consent unto my death, nor put the cruel commands of Astyages into act; I will present you unto the King my Father, and the Queen my Mother; this Court shall be your Sanctuary, Provided that you do not hereafter propound any thing which may divert my duty to Astyages: I shall think it was the heat of your zeal to serve me, prompted you unto these unjust Propositions: and I shall consider that as it is my duty to respect my enemy, so I shall think myself obliged to gratify him who preserved me from his injuries. But Harpagus said he with a more pleasant aspect, it is not now a convenient time to talk more with you, and I am very sorry to break off any discourse of Wars, Combats, Victories and Triumphs. After these words, this miraculous Child turned towards the company; and Harpagus being ravished with the wisdom of so young a Child, accepted of his offer, only desired him that he would be pleased to acquaint the Queen his Mother, and know her pleasure, before he appeared in Court; which Cyrus did also promise him: thus Harpagus parted from him, and mingled with the multitude; and Cyrus also went away with intentions to follow the sports no longer. I than had the Honour to be near him, and was appointed by the King and Queen, to have the particular care of him: And Feraulas whom you see here, being but too years' elder than Cyrus, waited upon him as a Playfellow, being very fit for such a purpose, and of a close reserved inclination. Feraulas was the first, who observed how the mind of Cyrus was troubled, and coming unto me, who at that time did not mind him; Sir (said he to me) methinks the Prince is very reserved, and melancholy upon a sudden, from whence should this change arise? I know not (said I) nor did I perceive he has had any mischance all this day: Perhaps (said he to me) the man whom I saw talking a long time with him in private, hath told him something which hath angered him. As we were thus discoursing, Cyrus came near us, and said, Chrisantes, I would speak with you; all the company than kept their distances, and the Prince began to tell me, in a low voice, all which Harpagus told unto him, with his answer unto it: he told it me with such gravity, wisdom, generosity and spirit, as really I was amazed, and looked upon him as a miracle: When he did express that Joy which he apprehended when Harpagus offered him an Army of thirty thousand men: Oh Heavens, with what unwillingness did he refuse it: and when he would show his sorrows, that it was not permitted him to accept the offer, he expressed it to the life: I cannot believe any man of greatest wisdom and highest parts that ever this age produced, could with more prudence, wisdom and nobleness, detertermine upon a matter so nice and curious, as he did upon a sudden. He repented him though of his promise to protect Harpagus, and of presenting him unto the Queen his Mother; for, thought he, if she should know of her Father Astyages his cruelty, it would but become her torment, and it would be an infinite grief unto him, to be a cause of hers. In conclusion, he said unto me, Pray Chrisantes tell me, whether I have done well or no, and give me your counsel what I should do in the business; for (said he) although I dare trust unto my own Courage, yet I dare not conclude too much in my own Prudence and discretion, since I have not yet attained unto such years of experience as I dare trust myself: When he had ended, I gave him his deserved commendations, and told him, I thought all he said was very well: but as for acquainting the Queen with what Harpagus told him, I did not conceive why he should not: Take it upon yourself then Chrisantes (answered he,) as for my part, I confess it goes against the hair of my disposition to tell so bad a story: I promised him that I would; When we came to Persipolis, Cyrus went unto the King's Lodgings, and gave me opportunity to go unto the Queens: I acquainted her with the Adventure, and it moved her unto much Joy and much sorrow, for she desired to keep the Prince ignorant of Astyages her father's cruelty: also she did much rejoice that her Son was so rarely qualified, and had returned so wise an answer. Upon the whole matter she charged Cyrus to speak nothing of it unto the King his Father, since it was irrepairably passed, and would but most unprofitably vex him. As for Harpagus, she thought it but just to protect him; and that it was necessary to detain him still in Persia, in order to the Reconciling him unto Astyages: for said this virtuous Princess, although the King my Father was too too blame, yet I am his Daughter, which is argument enough, for me to preserve him to the utmost of my power; therefore Harpagus must not upon any terms depart a malcontent; since he has thirty thousand men at his devotion, which may kindle such a war in Medea as may prove its ruin: It were better Policy to let this my own Country be his Sanctuary, than another Princes, who by his power and Intelligence, may become prejudicial unto me and my Father also. Alas, alas (said he) what cross Fate is this? Harpagus, as he is Rebel to my Father, should be my foe; but as he preserved my Son, must be my friend, and deserves protection. The King of Medes, as he is my Father, I owe him all obedience and love; but as he is my Son's enemy and would destroy him (if I may say it,) I do hate him. What think you Chrisantes? how can I reconcile these things? In conclusion, after she had well weighed all circumstances, she resolved to move the King her Husband for Harpagus his Protection, as one who had been an ancient servant unto her Father the King of Medes; and whom he banished for some cause which afterwards she would devise: and to stay him in Persia as long as they could, lest he should cause a war in Medea: But withal to contrive it so, as that he should dwell in the Country, and not appear in Court, lest the entertaining of him should become offensive unto Astyages. She gave me an especial charge, to prevent his coming near young Cyrus, lest he should corrupt his thoughts: All things are transacted according to these Resolutions: The Queen is extremely fond of her Son, and commends him for his discretion in his carriage of the business; Harpagus is civilly treated, and presented unto the King her husband; afterwards sent unto one of the King's fairest houses, with orders taken for his subsistency, and kept continually in hopes. All this while, Astyages is not rightly composed in his mind; but still fears least the menaces of the gods should be seconded with some disastrous effects: He had Spies constantly at Persipolis, who gave him intelligence of Harpagus his arrival and reception; and how he had Conference with the Prince in the Forest; for afterwards, several Persians knew Harpagus, and divulged it: He also had advertisement how the Province of Paretacenes, whereof Harpagus had been Governor, stood affected, and that he had opportunity to make head, if he had a disposition to it: He had also several Informations, of secret Assemblies and Consultations, the Causes whereof he was ignorant: All this, coming at one time to him, from divers places, added to his own timorous disposition, did cause him to reassume his former fears and inquietudes: He assembled the whole pack of the Magis; they consult afresh with the Gods and Stars; they pray, and offer Sacrifices; upon the result of all, they tell Astyages, that they would never fail in their fidelity, nor conceal what they discover in the Stars and Victims, which seemed to portend nothing but destruction and change, and that presently: for doubtless ere long the effects would follow the malignant signs: there needed no more to wound the soul of that Prince who was always naturally apt enough to believe them: and who by other concurring circumstances did too apparently see the probability of what the Magis told him. Ciaxares his Son was yet King only of Cappadocia, and had one only daughter. This jealous Prince apprehended that if young Cyrus had any design in forging, he might much more easily put it in execution then if Ciaxares had a Son, knowing well enough that the people do commonly more affect a King than a Queen: Moreover Harpagus being fled into Persia, who had such a strong Faction, and good intelligence within his Dominions, it was therefore to be doubted things would not succeed well upon that score. Thus Astyages, fearing every thing, and supposing his own shadow to be a Plot: and apprehending not only things semblable, but also absolute impossibilities, he became the most wretched man that ever was. The Queen of Persia had also intelligence of all her father's distempers; for as he had his Spies in Persipolis, so had she hers in Ecbatan, who every hour advertised her; and who upon this news renewed her sorrows. It was her pleasure to honour me so far as to discover her fears, and tell me how she doubted the King of Medes her Father, being prompted by his old Passions, would take some violent design in hand to destroy her Son Cyrus; her experience of things past was a ground for her jealousy of things to come: I diverted her Passion as much as possible, but she being a woman of a high and apprehensive soul, it was not easy absolutely to remove her resentment, since there was so much reason in it, since Astyages might act such a thing in some close private manner as we could not foresee. However, she commanded me to have an extraordinary care of Cyrus her Son, and to prevent his hunting as much as I could, but not to let him know the reason; for it might be imagined that if Astyages had any Plot upon his life, he might there in wild Forests find a fit opportunity for it. I promised my obedience, and found it no great difficulty to observe her order: for since the last time of hunting Cyrus became so deeply melancholy, so as that which before was wont to be a pleasant Recreation, did now but augment his humour: Yet notwithstanding he was of such a natural and sweet Complacency, that when I attempted to observe the Queens Commands very punctually, I was not denied my Request unto him: for as he desired one day to hunt, more for custom and company then any delectation he found in the sport, I told him that I had some advice to give him, which I humbly besought him might be well accepted: he assured me that he would ever follow my Counsel without contradiction; Then I told him that as hunting in his younger years might be allowed him as his business, so on his riper years of discretion, it should be used seldom and as a recreation only: therefore it would appear an act of wisdom to forbear it, or at least use it not so often as he was wont. Your Advice good Chrisantes (said he to me) is very good: and it is not long since I did entreat Feraulas to assist me in contriving some ingemous ways, wherein I might more nobly employ my time. Sr said I to him, Feraulas deserves the honour of your love, and his advice is to be asked. But I conceive it no great difficulty to find oud many ways wherein your hours might be better spent then in hunting Chrisantes (said he to me) it is not so easy as you imagine. Whilst we were thus in discourse, the Queen sent to inquire for Cyrus, so that the hunting and our Discourse both, were at this time prevented. Some few days after, the King took a journey about some great business, which would be a Month before his return: he left the Queen and Prince both at Persipolis, with orders to stay there until his Return: After he was gone, Cyrus would hunt no more, but was composed all of gravity and sadness: I pressed Feraulas to tell me the cause of his Melancholy, but I could not get a syllable out of him what the Prince had told him. I urged him again, and that so importunately, as at last he told me how Cyrus complained he could not endure this idle kind of life, and often lamented it unto him: after this, the Prince grew to be of so dull a complexion as he was not knowable; The lively features which formerly moved adoration in all the Ladies of the Court, are all dampt and vanished: his thoughts run no more of hunting, his study is musing and pensiveness: He forgot his exercises of darting, shooting, and the like: Solitude is the only life he leads: The Queen was much troubled at this alteration: And many times told him of it, but his answers were, that some sleight, simple indisposition had produced these effects in him, and humbly desired her not to trouble herself about it any more: Harpagus all this while, he cheers up himself in hopes that when Cyrus is elder, he may then chance to exchange some of his affection for some ambition; which might then afford him some opportunities of acting that which he was now but plotting. Thus being the state of things, I one day observed the Prince more pensive and sad then ever: and seeing he refused all manner of recreations or society, I said unto him, Sir, you have ever heretofore done me the honour to believe me whensoever I took the boldness to advertise you of any thing which might conduce unto your good: I perceive that of late you have habited yourself unto such a quite contrary course or life then that which you were accustomed, as I cannot choose but ask the reason: Have you not often told me Chrisantes (said he) that the joys of children ought not to be the business of men? I have told you so indeed Sir (answered I) but yet there is a great deal of difference between playing the child, and doing nothing at all. 'Tis true Chrisantes (answered the Prince) if I should do no more hereafter than I do at present, I were not worthy to live; yet the unhappiness of my condition doth in this interval, give me leisure to contrive ways of changing my idle course of life. Why Sir (said I to him) do you say your unhappy condition? Are you not the Son of a great King and a great Queen? Doth not fortune so much smile upon you as that you are beloved of your Subjects and feared of your enemies? You, I say, who shall one day be possessor of a great Kingdom, where such a lasting peace is so surely settled as nothing can disturb it: you whom the gods have adorned with so many admirable Qualities, of so generous a mind, so sublime a soul; all whose inclinations are noble, whose person is admirably handsome, whose strength so incomparable, and whose proportion of body, moved by so courageous a soul may easily prompt you to the most heroic actions. Suppose I were all these you tell me (answered Cyrus very quickly) and that they were spurs to quicken me unto high actions, and that the gods have given me such qualities to employ them in common, poor, idle things, am I not then the most unhappy man alive to make no better use of them? If I should continue this course of life long, posterity would not know that Cyrus ever lived: No no Chrisantes, I am not so happy as you think me, especially since the time that Harpagus talked with me in the Forest: Let me tell you, I have endured such anguish of soul ever since, as you would pity me if you knew it: and I would acquaint you with it, if you will promise to be faithful and obey me; Sir (said I to him) I shall never fail in my fidelity, and I will promise ever to obey you so far as your commands are just. I desire no mote (said he) then looking upon me with such an aspect as would win the heart of a savage man, My Dear Chrisantes (said he) if you knew the torments of mind I have endured, I am sure they would move compassion: Harpagus you know motioned a war unto me, and I refused it. Doth it repent you Sir? (said I, interrupting him,) No, (said he) but it troubles me that any man should propound any difficult business unto me, and I not in a condition to accept it; not to dissemble with you, If I had followed the suggestions of my own mind, I should not have been eight days after that cross accident, but would have found out some ware in some Country or other, that I might thereby make it apparent unto Harpagus and all the world how the only reason why I refused his motion was, because I thought it unjust, and not because I thought it difficult or dangerous: Who knows (said he) whether Harpagus will think it cowardice or temperance in me? I am now of age wherein my valour may be suspected; and I shall never rest satisfied until by some honourable and dangerous adventure I have justified myself, and redeemed my honour: This is it Chrisantes, I am infinitely weary of my idle, nor can I understand why you should commend me as you have done unless it were to rouse up my dull soul unto sprightly Action. It hath been my Lesson never to be weary in any Action I shall undertake, and that delicacy is a crime: I have been taught that Valour is essentially requisite in a Prince: and how he ought to fight, to know the use of his Bow, his Spear, his Buckler, his Sword; but to what purpose are all these if he never use them? what good is there in ability of body to endure hardship, if I should be ever treading in the smooth paths of the Courts tranquillity? What use can I make of my Valour, as long as I am lulled in a lazy Peace? What shall I be better for combating with wild beasts, which know nothing but as nature teacheth them? In short, Chrisantes (not to conceal my soul from you) I conceive the sapient documents and instructions, which have been infused into me, do all authorize the design which I resolve upon as soon as ever I can get an opportunity for it; And what is your design, said I to him? I would (answered he) leave the lazy Court, and travel into Assiria, and from thence into Phrygia, or any place where I shall hear there is any war: I have a desire to instruct and improve myself to the best advantage, I would learn to know myself, and all the world. Your Design is great (said I) and proceeds from a most Noble Soul; But Sir, such designs as these ought not to be so lightly and inconsiderately taken up: I do not well know (answered Cyrus) how shall I take it, since fortune doth oppose me; but this I know, that I will employ the utmost of my power to undertake it: Good Chrisantes, Let me entreat you not to dissuade me, for all you can possibly say will be in vain; I am throughly resolved upon it: I am not ignorant of that duty which I owe unto the King my Father, and unto the Queen my Mother, I am infinitely tender of them both, but yet my desire of honour and love of glory is above both. Whether you allow or disallow of this Resolution, believe me, Dear Chrisantes, I will find out a way to put it in execution, or death shall be the only obstacle which can hinder me. Cyrus' pronounced these words with so much active animosity, and with such heroic violence, as I pawsed and wondered, and could not answer: his eyes more than ordivary sparkling: his complexion more vermilion; every part so agile, and his discourse so positive, that there was no contradictions to be thought upon. I must confess, I did much honour this budding virtue in him; and I could not contend, with what I so much liked and admired: In conclusion, I desired eight day's time for consideration, not liking to undertake a matter of this consequence too rashly, but I had much ado to obtain it, for he was resolved to be gone whilst his Father Cambyses the King was in his progress: Then Sir, I did think myself strangely entangled in the business: I did perceive by the Queen's intelligence from Ecbatane, that the fears and jealousies of Astyages did rather much increase, than any thing diminish: and I saw that this violent, scrupulous and superstitious Prince, would either destroy Cyrus, or declare a war upon Persia; and that it was impossible to prevent the one of these two: I presently addressed myself unto the Queen, and told her, that I discovered every day more and fresh discontents in the Prince her Son, and moved her to persuade the King her Husband, that the Prince her Son might undertake some Travels; and in a disguise see the world, be acquainted with the Manners of other Countries, and remove from under that malignant Constellation, which in this place, at this time was so predominate. But she answered me, That she thought Cambyses, being persuaded the Manners of the Persians, were more virtuous than those of other People, he would therefore never consent unto it, unless he had some strong Arguments to induce him thereunto: yet as for her part, in consideration of the King her Father his humours, she did not much disapprove of the motion: I perceived she had some inclinations that he Son should be removed, but, that her Maternal tenderness, joined with her desires of concealing her Father's cruelty from Cambyses knowledge did impede it: and that this was her only reason which hindered her from absolute consenting to his departure: both she and I did conceive much likelihood of producing good effects, provided he were so handsomely disguised, and not discovered by the Spies which Astyages had lurking in every corner of Persipolis: Moreover, she considered that the King of Medes her Father was old, and of a mutable disposition: therefore it might so happen, that during her Son's travel, he might either die, or alter his mind, when he knew that he, who was the cause of his fears, was far enough remote from being in the head of any Army, to trouble him: and since he was so giddily traveled without any Accommodations or Train proportionable to his quality. And though the Queen did well enough resent and understand all this, and confessed it, yet the presence of her Son was so dear unto her, as she could not fix upon this harsh resolution, however so full of reason. ay, pondering all these Circumstances, and knowing that Honour was the only motive which prompted Cyrus to this design, also conceiving it the only prudential course for the preservation and maintaining of Peace between these two great Kingdoms, than I resolved without disclosing any of these reasons unto the Prince, to consent unto his desire, and I myself to be a partaker of his Fortunes, and a witness of his virtues, from which I expected high achievements. Certainly it was not without great reason that I concealed from him the causes of all our fears which we apprehended of his Life, if he had stayed any longer in Persia; for doubtless if he had known the truth, he would quickly have altered his resolutions, and would not have quit the Name of Cyrus for that of Artamenes, which now I advised him to take upon him, I cannot express the joy this Prince was in, when I went unto his Chamber and told him, that he had overcome me, and that I would consent unto his desires, upon condition he would promise me, that in all the voyage, he would be pleased to promise me, to condescend unto mine, and be ruled by me: Indeed, I never in all my life saw so many signs of full satisfaction, as appeared in his looks: Ha, my Chrisantes (cried he out, and embracing me) since you have consented in this, fear not but I will obey you in any thing. Let us go; let ut go upon any conditions; for as long as you shall demand nothing but what is just and honourable, be confident, I will never disobey. In conclusion Sir (not too much to abuse your Patience,) it was resolved, that Cyrus, and I, and Feraulas (from whom he had not hid the design,) and two other servants, should be all the number. As for our subsistence, we took with us all the Prince's Jewels, which were not a few nor common ones, though the Persian Nation does openly profess to contemn all such magnificent superfluities; but the Queen following the custom of her own Country, brought with her a vast number, and gave the most and best of them unto Cyrus her Son, who seldom wore them, unless at public Feasts and grand Ceremonies, intending to poise himself between the magnificent Mede, and the moderate Persian. We put up all these Jewels, and pretending to Hunt with a small number, we did prolong the Chase until night; then dispersing ourselves in the Forest; and meeting at an appointed Rendez-vous, we took our way and began our voyage; the horrid sequel where of affrights me when I think upon it: But before our departure, the Prince writ unto his Father, ask pardon for departing out of the Kingdom without his leave: He wrote another Letter also unto the Queen his Mother upon the same subject; and without acquainting me, he left a Note to be conveyed unto Harpagus; in which he told him, that though he had refused his offer, yet he should see ere long, by what Rule he squared his Actions: As for my part, I thought it not good for me to write unto the Queen, lest the King should come to see what I writ, and gather something out of it, which the Queen would have concealed. Now Sir, Cyrus must cease to be Cyrus; and under the Name of Artamenes you shall understand some of his glorious Acts. After we had lain three days in the wildred Forest, where we changed our habits, and traveled three nights, we arrived at Susianes; that way seeming more safe than the other to pass into Assiria, of which you know Babylon is the Metropolis; a Town, then of the greatest splendour of any that ever was. But Sir, it befits me not to speak of it before you, since you all, except Thrasibulus, contributed to the destruction of it, and therefore are not ignorant: I will only tell you, that though Artamenes had no intentions to take part with the Assyrian against the Phrygian, because the Assyrians were the old enemies of Astyages; yet we went thither to see the Court, which then was the greatest and most pompous in all Asia. When we approached near it; the object did much delight Artamenes. As we passed along the banks of the River Euphrates, we admired the situation of this proud Town, which stood between two of the most famous Rivers in the world, Tigris and Euphrates. Here, passed by us, two men talking together, how that the Queen was possessed with great Joy, and great sorrow, both together: Artamenes did overhear them; and you must know Sir, Cambyses had always a great desire that his Son should be taught the Languages of all the prime Nations in the world: It was his customary Speech, that it were very strange a Prince should not understand the Language of that Nation from whom he would entertain an Ambassador: so that both Artamenes and I understood that Language: Artamenes then understanding what these two men said, addressed himself very civilly unto them, and asked them in their own Language: What did the Queen so much joy and so much sorrow at? The one answered; That her joy was, because about some eight days since, the tedious war between the King of Assiria and the King of Phrygia, was happily ended: a happy Peace was concluded upon advantageous terms, and joyfully proclaimed about some two days since: But the joy of this great Queen, who solely governed the Kingdom since the death of the King her Husband, although she had caused the Prince her Son to be crowned King, this joy I say was turned into great sorrow; the reason of it is, because she having but this only Son, whom she intended to marry unto the Daughter of a Prince called Gadates, with whom this Peace was concluded, and whom this Prince could not affect, was gone from the Court, and none knows what is become of him. After the man had thus satisfied the Prince's demands, and the Prince returned thanks, the man took his way and we ours: But when I looked upon Artamenes, and found him all sadness, What Sir (said I to him) have you any such interest in the business of the Queen Nitocris, as that you should be a partner in her grief? Chrisantes (said he to me) Although I know this Princess to be the glory of her Sex, and the fame of her Name and Virtues moves me to a high esteem of her, yet it is not her sorrow troubles me most; but I am vexed at the giddy fantasticalness of my fortune: I come hither to seek for a war and find all hushed up in Peace: I thought to find a turbulent Country, turmoild in confusions and divisions; and behold, all composed into tranquillity: I harkened for the shrill sound to Trumpets, and I hear nothing but acclamations of joy: I went to the Court to see how the most potent Prince of Asia lived in this most stately Town, and it seems he's fled, and nothing but Cries and Tears where I expected such Magnificence: But Feraulas (said he turning towards him,) this shall disquiet me no more, and if other business troubled me no more than this, my heart would be more at ease: Feraulas, as well as I, did cheer him up, and told him, that the disgrace which he apprehended concerning Harpagus, was nothing, nor so great as it seems he thought it: yet notwithstanding we went into Babylon, and observed it with much circumspection: The Prince viewed the Fortifications, and I was amazed to hear with what judgement he spoke of those things in which he had never been versed or instructed: The Martial humour of this Prince, caused us to stay longer upon such things than any other: He did most seriously view the prodigious walls of the Town; the Motes and Ditches full of water which environed it; the hundred gates of brass, which shut and opened into it; the River Euphrates which added much strength unto it: He looked upon these more precisely then upon the magnificence of the King's Palace, or the rare Gardens, which may be said to be in the air, because they are over all the Houses and all the walls: Nor did he much mind the Temple of Jupiter Belus, which you know is one of the greatest Rarities in the world: In all his walks, and all his Journeys, all his thoughts, and all his discourse was all of war: If I were to take this Town (would he say,) I would assault it on that side: And when he saw a great Plain which had any rising ground about it, he would tell me, that he should be Master of the Field, if he gave battle unto the Enemy from that piece of ground: Thus did we view Babylon; and because many things were very remarkable, we stayed a month in it: During which time, we often saw the Queen, who doubtless was one of the greatest Princess in the world: It was she which built that magnificent Bridge, that huge piece of work, whereby she turned the course of the River Euphrates, which hath since caused much sorrow unto Artamenes: Notwithstanding her grief for the absence of her Son, yet she did not desist from the work, but we saw her every morning and evening, go herself to hasten it on, which has rendered her famous unto Posterity: In this Court we saw Mazares Prince of Saces, who since, was much engaged in my Master's Adventures, and has caused him a thousand sad disasters, such as was like to be at the Price of his Life. Artamenes one day thinking upon Nitocris and her great work, turned to me and said: This Princess makes me wonder at the industrious care which she takes about this work: Certainly her aims in it are all for Fame and Glory; But poor I have not yet done any thing to advance my honour. Disquiet not yourself Sir (said I to him) since you are yet but young and cannot complain of any lost time, you have much before you, and will have occasions enough to make you talked on: At last we satisfied his impatience and left Babylon, because we had intelligence that there was some signs of a war began to appear between the King of Lydia and the King of Phrygia: But as I was not so forward as he to run into danger, so I endeavoured to stay him until such time as the wars were publicly declared, yet to travel both the Countries without engaging on either side: at my desire he consented, when he called to mind his promise of being ruled by me all the voyage: and he resolved to perform his word though with much repugnancy: So we traveled those Countries which were governed by those great Princes, and Artamenes, though as impatient as any to have his arms on, yet was persuaded by me: It must be acknowledged that the Greek Nation hath many advantages above others, and if it were united as it is divided, and if those which dwell in the ancient Country would concur with those who inhabit Asia, then perhaps they would teach obedience unto all them which they term Barbarians: Well Sir, after we had seen many places, which would be over-tedious to relate, we came to the Town of Milete, which we found to be very factious, some lamenting their Prince which others had deposed, and those others plotting how to prevent his ever-restauration, lest they should be treated as Traitors: We saw the Towns of Mius and Priennds both of them within Cairo: We went afterwards to Classomenes, to Phocius, and Ephesus, where the beautiful Temple of Diana told Artamenes, that our own Nation might be ashamed they did not build such another, but that they should so offer their sacrifices upon the tops of mountains: Concerning that, the best works of all the Sons of men were yet far too unworthy to be the house of God. Certainly this Temple is a piece so magnificent, that it well deserves the name of the world's wonder. We understood that the late King of Lydia named Alliatte, Father of Craessus, who now reigns, had great devotion unto this place, and how he sent hither offerings so rich as the Temple of Delphos had not the like, although it was famed all over the world, and more ancient than that of Ephesus: We understood here also, that the Inhabitants of that Famous Town were not well pleased with Craessus, as they were formerly with his Father, having some jealousies he intended war upon them: Artamenes stayed here some days longer than intended, purposely to d●●e into the business: During which time we could not choose but wonder at the multitudes of strangers which resorted hither to consult with the Oracle. I moved Artamenes to inquire concerning the success of his voyage and fortunes, yet he would not, but told me that he had more reverence unto the gods then to pry into their secrets, nor was it fit to satisfy fond curiosity so far as to foreknow his future Fortune: yet that which chiefly restrained him (as I conceive) was his fear not to find that in the answer of the gods, which he so much desired, to wit, Glory, and the occasions to acquire it, War: but the Event of things did show how his fears were falsely grounded, and that the Destinies would have told him nothing but of his Victories and Triumphs: Whilst we were at Ephesus, we conversed with many Grecians which came to that place, some out of Devotion, and some Curiosity: amongst the rest Periander King of Corinth came hither in disguise, and lodged in the same place with us: Many terms of Friendship passed betwixt him and me (if it become to say so of a Sovereign.) This wise Prince whose wisdom was in highest esteem throughout all Greece, had so great a fancy unto Artamenes, as he forced me to promise him, as soon as our affairs would permit, to travel unto Corinth. After we had passed over all Chair and part of Lydia, we visited both high and low Phrygia: in the first of these we saw that great Town of Apameus, and in the other the mountain Ida, the Port of Tenedos, the River of Xanthis, and the deplorable ruins of Troy; Artamenes stayed here with much delight, and viewing the places where the valiant Hector and famous Achilles fought, he could hardly stir off it: at last we passed on, and behold the Tomb of this Demi-god. As we came into Jonia, we procured a man of the Isle of Samos, who being a great Scholar, well traveled, and very knowing in all Antiquity, became our guide, and showed unto us all that was rare: Artamenes asked him a thousand Questions concerning Troy and its Leaguer. There remains yet some ruins of the two Marble Castles which neither the Flames nor old Time had yet demolished. The Prince was much pleased with the sight, and went over all the Ruins, and Rocks, and over the Famous Rivers of Scamander and Simois. This Country, which heretofore did flow with Noble blood, seemed now to be a Land consecrated unto the gods of Peace; This Learned Grecian which we had with us, told us that Periander whom we had seen in Ephesus, was not the only wise man of Greece, but that the Nation was now as full of wise and excellent men, as in the days of Agamemnon, Ulysses, and Nestor. This commendations moved Artamenes to have a great desire of going thither. So that we seeing the wars in Phrygia proceeded no further, I persuaded him to pass into Greece, to which he consented, and we went. To begin with the most famous first, We came to Athens, which we much admired, as well for that Famous Port of Pireus, as the excellent order of Laws here established by a man of great wisdom whose Name was Solon, and who did voluntarily banish himself ten years for his own Country: To the end his Laws might thereby not be changed, he having obliged the Citizens by Oath to observe them until his return: Artamenes came here acquainted with Pisistrates, who as some said became Tyrannical; Whilst we were at Athens, there was a flying Report that Solon was in the Isle of Cyprus. so that I confess I did forward Artamenes his desire of going thither, as well to see that fair Island seated in the Aegian Sea, also that Famous Temple of Venus, as to be acquainted with that prudent Grecian, but we were not so fortunate as to find him there, yet it was Artamenes his good fortune to contract friendship with a Prince called Philoxippes, a man of high spirit and great virtue: But I will not trouble you with every particnlar passage of our Voyage, and omit many Islands which we saw in the Aegian Sea; I will only tell you that after our coming to Athens, whether my Master promised Philistaates to return, we went to Lacedaemon, which government did not please him who thought all the Earth too little to fill up the chinks of his ambition. This Great Soul, thought two Kings in one Kingdom incompatible: At last we come to Delphos, Argos, Mycenae's, and Corinth, where we were magnificently treated by the wise Periander: for this gallant man ever thought the Laws of Hospitality inviolable, and that strangers could not be welcomed with too much Civility: It was his pleasure that the Princess Cleobuline his daughter, whose beauty and wit was famed throughout all Greece, should honour Artamenes with her converse: he was as exact in the Greek tongue as any Native. Periander to entertain him caused Arion (that famous Musician as well for his excellency in that Art as for the Dolphin which preserved him) to play before him. I will trouble you no more Sir with many remarkable passages, and how my Master did infinitely better himself by the observation of the several Manners and Customs of those people and places where he came: But in the Conclusion of all, I must tell you, that at the Port of Corinth where men from all parts arrive, there we came to know, that the war between Lydia and jonia was now broke out and published, and that the storm which had long hovered, was now fallen upon them: Upon this Artamenes becomes all Impatiency till he were in Arms, and presently resolved for Ephesus, there to engage with them against Craessus their Enemy. In taking leave of Periander he told him how desirous he was to recompense the Grecians for the Civilities which he had received from them. So Periander furnishing us with a well tackled Ship we put to Sail with a favourable wind. Artamenes thought now he had met with an opportunity to put that prodigious valour, which nature had infused into him into practice: his desire of glory did elevate his soul so high, as that he was wrapped into a heaven of unimaginable joy? But Fortune which had made him wait so long for an opportunity, did now offer him one which he looked not for, and which was like to have proved very fatal unto him; for suddenly a Mariner cried out, he discovered four Sail of Ship coming towards them, and if we looked not well about us, they would immediately fetch us up: The Pilot he looked, and was more dismayed than the first: for he discovered that it was certainly the valiant Pirate who made up to assault us. Pardon me, Generous Thrasibulus, (said Chrisantes, and breaking of his Story) If in following my Narration exactly, if I give you a Name which was so much renowned in all the Seas where we passed. No no (said Thrasibulus to him) I think never the worse, that you should give me a name which my ill Fortune made me assume, and which perhaps better Fates may render more considerable upon the Aegian, Hellespont, and Euxian Seas, and which may wipe off all that infamy which waits upon the Quality of a Pirate: Continue on your Story, and omit not the least circumstance which relates unto the Story of Artamenes. Chrisantes, seeing Thrasibulus silent, and all the Princes prepared for attention, he went on. The Pilot then being confident it was the valiant Pirate which came with resolutions to set upon us, without any further order endeavoured to shun all encounter, and fly from such an enemy as always used to conquer; especially since their number so exceeded us: which Artamenes no sooner saw but he took hold of him with one hand, and hold of the stern with the other; No no, said he, thou shalt not be Master of this Ship if thou beginnest to run away; Mark me, if thou dost not immediately carry me strait unto the enemy, I will throw thee into the Sea, or run thee through with my sword: The Pilot as well as I was so amazed at his violence, as he threw himself at his feet, and said, that he did not think he would undertake such an enemy as there was no hopes or possibility of overcoming: Do as I bid thee, said Artamenes, and leave the rest to the gods and my courage, When I heard the Prince say so, and having learned from the Mariners how the famous Pirate was mighty stout; Sir, said I to him) what do you mean to do? I will either conquer or die, said he, and will not lose this first opportunity which Fortune 〈…〉 to make use of my valour: But Sir (replied I) how can you conquer where there is neither possibility or hopes of it? Have I not told you (said the Prince) if I cannot conquer I can die; and I had much rather do so then fly and not fight when I have occasion offered: Sir (replied I) to retire from an enemy too numerous and strong, is not a disgraceful flight, but a prudent and honourable retreat, and you ought not to mix rashness and valour together: Discretion is the better part of valour; I know not how to make these faint distinctions (said the Prince very roughly to me) I am afraid to be deceived by them in a business which concerns my honour; the surer way is to fight, and that I'll take: Therefore (said he, speaking to the Soldiers and Mariners) I heartily desire you all to prepare yourselves for fight, and imitate me: During this Argument the four Ships which gave us chase, and were much better Sailors than we, were come so near us, that I saw there was no way but to prepare for defence: and it was not to be imagined that the Prince would now retreat or submit without combat: Then I began to assist the Prince in giving orders: And after we had commanded them all not to row when we were almost within Oar-reach of the Ship, and the Pilot to make towards their Admiral, Feraulas and I ranked ourselves next him: I must needs give this Testimony of his virtue, never was seen more constancy and alacrity in so great a danger, as appeared in the soul of this young Prince; He had got ready by him a Bow, a Quiver, abundance of Arrows upon his shoulder besides some in his hands, also many Darts and Javelins, but he thought so little of a Buckler and of any danger, that he had wanted it, if I had not brought him one just when we began to accost the enemy: All this while the Renowned Corsaires sees our inequality, and thought to take us without a blow, but Artamenes is of another mind, and inspires mettle into the Soldiers and Mariners, and commands the Pilot to make towards the enemy who doth so punctually obey, that we were presently within reach of each other; so that in lieu of Vailing Bonnet as Corsaires did believe we would, we saluted him with a Cloud of Arrows which killed many of his men whom we saw tumble down upon the Deck; This bold attempt made the Pirate conclude, that either some man of a most high courage was in the Ship, or else some desperate enemy who would die fight without submission: He being thus incensed with our bold affront, begins to order himself like a Soldier who knew how to fight: He commanded all his Ships to enclose us round, that so he might the more astonish us and take us without boarding: yet do what they could it was two hours at the least before he could compass us, and if the Prince would have been contented with fight thus upon such unequal terms, and have retreated without an absolute victory, he might easily have avoided that danger wherein afterwards we were surrounded; for at last these four Ships (in spite of all our Pilots art) did compass us about, and fell upon us with such fury, as we fought in darkness, by reason of the showers of Arrows which covered our Ship, and fell upon our her heads. Artamenes seeing it thus, commanded 〈…〉 to make at the Admiral and assault him: we all obey, we grapple, we board him, and begin a fight, the like was never seen: Artamenes leapt into the Ship of Corsaires, at the same time when the Pirate leapt into his: so that in an instant of time these two Generals were amidst their enemies: The fight is now most strange; and that happened upon this accident, as the like I believe will never do again: for we were all very attentive unto Artamenes, and when he leapt unto the Pirates Ship, all of us leapt after him, except some few that were repulsed or killed: on the other side, the Soldiers of Corsaires did the like, and followed their Captain with the like fury that we followed ours. By this confusion Artamenes became Master of Corsaires his Ship, and Corsaires Master of Artamenes: At their first entrances they both rejoiced and thought they had been Victors, but when they perceived their error, and that they had only changed Ships: Artamenes by menaces made the Mariners of Corsaires Ship obey him; Corsaires did the like with Artamenes Mariners; they than began to fight afresh, and strive to reenter into their own Ships: The fight is furious, and this odd chance did a while prolong it, and our destruction; for the three other Ships of Corsaires did not perceive this changing chance, as well because they were far off, as because of the chick clouds of Arrows: therefore they move not a finger against the Ship of their Admiral in which we were, but they assault our Ship in which Corsaires was; so that he could neither defend himself nor offend us; My Master knowing him to be the Chief of the enemies, did undertake him single, with so much vigour and resolution, as none ever saw the like: And all the Mariners who were Spectators of the Combat, did assure us, that Artamenes more than twenty times entered the vessel: and the Valiant Pirate did the like before any advantage on either side did appear; All after their example pushed the Pike, shot Arrows, and did slash with swords: As for Artamenes, he used all these weapons: for when he was far off he shot Arrows; when nearer he used the Pike; and when joined, his Sword was not idle: The truth is, he was so admirable at them all, as I could not believe it to be him: Presently after, the three Ships discover their error, and fight no more against their Master: but fall all pellmell upon us: Now when Artamenes saw no hopes of any thing but perishing; and spying Feraulas and I near him, (Feraulas I say, of whose valour I will not speak in his presence) he turned towards us all in a fury, and said, I see, My Friends, we cannot overcome, but if you will second me, the Pirates shall pay very dear for their Victory; After this, what did he not do? or what can I say more than is truth? Though he saw the Ship beset round with enemies, and though he found their Commander Corsaires of great courage; and though he saw most of his own men which remained alive almost all wounded, and himself also received a wound with an Arrow upon the left shoulder, yet for all this he was not at all dismayed; he was sometimes at the Prow, and sometimes at the Poop of the Ship: Here he pushed a Pirate into the Sea, there he killed another with his Sword at one blow; and so bestirred himself that one might well know he was incapable of submission: All this while, Feraulas and I had the misfortunes to be so wounded, as we were carried out of the combat; Feraulas having two wounds with a Javeline through both his thighs; and I, two cuts with a Sword upon my right Arm: Yet for all this, though Artamenes saw he was quite lost, and heard me cry unto him, that it was no dishonour to render himself a Prisoner, and that the Pirate would save him; and though he saw the Deck covered with blood, and dead men, yet this Imp of Mars, this inflexible heart of steel would not surrender, but fought on with more violence than before: In conclusion, a Valiant Greek, who was very eminent for combat, did grapple with him; they both tumble into the Sea: Then did all the Soldiers which were alive submit, and the Pirate now having no enemies to resist him, did see some 30 paces off his Ship the invincible Artamenes; who swimming with one hand, and holding his Sword in the other, did yet maintain fight against that Valiant Grecian, which tumbled into the Sea with him, who seeing Artamenes lance always against him with much courage, began a terrible strong Duel: This Greek being elder, much stronger, and less wounded, did better resist the violence of the waves, which sometimes did separate them, and sometimes brought them together, sometimes seemed to choke them both, and end their quarrel in triumphing over both; the like Combat was never seen upon Land: I leave you Sir to imagine what effects this wrought upon my soul, who by reason of my wound in the Arm, had lost so much blood, as I could not move or help; Imagine, I say, what I thought when I saw this excellent Prince in such a condition: I know not well what my design was, but I remember how I would have thrown myself into the Sea, but was not able: at last the Pirate being charmed with the valour of Artamenes, and seeing him in this danger, commanded five or six of his men to take a little Boat and save him: These men did presently obey his command; and making towards Artamenes, commanded the stout Greek to forbear Combat; whereupon, he got into their Boat, and changed his desires of killing, into endeavours of saving Artamenes. They did their best to catch hold of him, which they could not have done, if he had not been much wearied with swimming, and had received another wound in his right Arm against the Point of a Rock which was invisible within the water: he strives to swim faster, and accost this Boat; and a violent wave wrested his Sword out of his hand: as he was about to dive for it, those which were in the Boat, catched hold, and drew him in; brought him aboard the Ship, and presented him unto the renowned Pirate, who received him with a generosity beyond example; and said unto him, Have I fought with so poor a courage, that you think me unworthy to be both your Conqueror and deliverer? You have fought (answered Artamenes) with so much Courage, that my fears of never equalling you make me despair, and I care not for receiving my Life from that man whom I would have killed and could not. The inequality of your number (answered the most illustrious Pirate very sweetly) does justify your valour sufficiently, and gives excuse enough unto your defeat: if I should Triumph thus again, I should never Triumph more: and I find my victory so dear bought and honourable to you; that if there were a Prose to be given unto the Conqueror, I would give it unto you, and not assume it unto myself: When he had spoken thus, he gave command that there should be as great a care of Artamenes as of himself: And after he was informed whose this ship was, and understood them to be mere strangers, whom Curiosity only brought into Greece, than he treated us with much more sweetness than before. I shall not now tell you Sir, of all the Civilities which this Noble Corsaires used towards Artamenes and us all, because the honoured Thrasibulus knows it well enough: I shall only tell you thus much: that if Artamenes had been his Brother, he could not have expressed more indulgence: My Master's wounds were not dangerous, Corsaires was the worse, but both quickly healed: yet Feraulas and I could not so soon recover. Now, although Artamenes could not comfort up himself with any honour he had gotten, since he was not absolutely Conqueror in this first Combat which ever he had made; yet Virtue, being ever full of attractive charms, caused a great league of Love, insensibly to grow, between him and the renowned Pirate: This Amity was the Cause why this illustrious Pirate was not so forward in offering my Master his Liberty, and why my Master was so backward in ask it. So that the occasions of Corsaires being towards the Euxian bridge, we went along with him: not considering whether or no it would conduce to the good or bad fortune of Artamenes, In our passage thither we put in at Lesbos, where the Noble Pirate had some business: my Master and I went to see a cried up Beauty there, whose Name was Saphon, whom all Greece admired; indeed, we found her worthy of that fame, both for her Beauty, and the Verses which she composed. But Sir, to come unto the business of my Story: I must tell you in few words, that in our passage to the Euxian bridge, after we had sailed three days and three nights, Corsaires who used to assault others, was now assaulted himself by six Ships. This Combat, which was both long and fierce, Artamenes would needs be in; and performed Acts so gallant and high, that the modesty of the famous Corsaires made him say after the battle, that he ought the victory unto Artamenes: In conclusion, he thought himself so obliged unto my Master, that of three Ships which he had taken he would needs give him two: yet Artamenes would take but one; in which he designed himself for the Hellespont and the Aegian Sea, and so for Ephesus, intending to send Periander this Ship in lieu of his own, which was much torn and leaky, since the last Combat. Thus he parted from this generous Pirate, not knowing him nor being known unto him; for as they were both resolved not to discover themselves; so they would not ask one another that question which they themselves would not answer unto: And thus their friendship, though very great, did cause them both to moderate their desires, and would not be too inquisitive into what both of them desired to conceal: Also such was the discretion of my Master, that he fought in this last encounter, and never knew against whom, nor so much as asked the question, because he found that the generous Pirate made a mystery of it. Artamenes then, with Feraulas, myself, and to servants more which Corsaires gave my Master, returned from whence we came, and at first found a favourable wind; yet we had scarce sailed six hours, but a terrible tempest began to rise, and that so extraordinary and violent, as the Pilot himself began to tremble: the Air was dusky, the Sea boisterous, and rolled (Montes volvuntur aquarum) mountains of waves upon us, and upon one another; it roared horribly, and tossed the Ship so high, and then again so low, as the Mariners had much ado to keep it upright: the flashes of Lightning, the rumbling of Thunder, and the night's obscurity, all these, made us see when we could see nothing else, That they who are of a lofty compounded soul, cannot fear death, let it appear in what horror it can; for my Master was no more moved at it, then if he had been floating in the calmest River in the world; he gave out Orders without any confusion: Though the Danger was so great, and Death looked so inevitably grim; yet fear did not so much as make him alter his Countenance or discourse. We continued three days and three nights in this manner, and were quite driven out of our aims; for intending at the Euxian Bridge, we found ourselves upon the fourth day at Sun rise, cast upon the Port of Sinope, which you know is in Cappadocia, towards the Frontiers of Galatia. I relate this Sir, that you may more wonder at the oddnesse of fantastical Fate, who preserves Artamenes from the fury of the incensed Sea, to cast him in the midst of his enemy's Land; for Ciaxares you know was the Son of Astyages; and indeed it was he who had more reason to fear the menaces of the gods than Astyages his Father; who was so old, as he had as many feet in his grave as in his Throne: Yet when we understood that the Court was not at Sinope, but at another Town called Pteria, I was in less fears; and though I did not see how it was possible Artamenes should be known, yet I endeavoured as much as might be, not to put in there, but it could not be avoided. We saw from the place where we were, that stately Temple dedicated unto Mars, which, as you know, is a little out of the Town, The next morning, whilst our Ship was repairing which had been much torn by the Tempest, we went to visit the Temple: And as things that are extraordinary, are commonly the discourse of them who travel for Curiosity, and have nothing else to do but see Wonders, the Prince began to ask the reason, why in so many places as he had traveled, he should find fewer Temples dedicated unto Mars then any other of the Gods or Goddesses; and as if he were jealous of the Honour of that God, he called to memory all the Temples which had been dedicated unto Venus: and found, that there was many more devoted unto that Goddess of Love, then to that God of War: and why Sir (said I to him smiling,) are you an enemy unto that Divinity, which is so much adored throughout all the world, and every one does offer Sacrifices unto her? I am no enemy, answered he, but I am very jealous of the others Honour, and think it fitter that Mars should have more Altars than she: Perhaps (said I) you will not be always in that mind: I know not (answered he) but in the mind I am in now, War shall ever be preferred before Love: You have reason Sir (said I) for the one is much more Heroic than the other, but as zealous as you are now for Mars, you may perhaps one day become a Convert and pay as much Devotion unto Venus. I cannot think so (said he,) I am much deceived if ever that come about; As soon as he had said so, we entered into the Temple, which we found magnificently adorned. There was then very few People in it, so that we had convenience of observing every thing: we found here in the Temple a stranger of a very handsome garb, and well proportioned, much about the age of Artamenes, or about two years at the most more than he: This Gallant, observing the custom of the Country, where they use to be soon acquainted, came amongst us and discoursed with Artamenes: They earnestly view one another, and with some astonishment: This Stranger found we spoke the Language of that Country which much resembles that of Medes, as well as that of Assiria by reason of its nearness to both: he spoke in the same we did, and seemed to be one of an ingenious spirit: Presently we see much company come into the Temple, and observed to pass before us preparations for some costly Sacrifice; they were a hundred white Bulls crowned with Garlands of Flowers, driven by two Men, the ordinary number for Hecatombs: we saw many vessels of Gold pass by to receive the blood of these Victims: we also saw men carry the sacred Chafing-dishes, on which to burn their Incense; also their rich Knives wherewith to cut their Sacrifices; and all the Sacrificers in their Ceremonial habits, walked two and two together: Presently all was ready to be sacrificed, only there wanted the persons who must offer them: As we were looking upon all these things with much delight, upon a sudden we heard many say aloud, Room for the King; Room for the King: at these words the People pressed unto both sides▪ and made a passage for the King: I confess to you Sir, this accident did much surprise me; and I was very angry to see Artamenes so near Ciaxares, who came this morning from Pteria unto Sinope to offer these Sacrifices: Artamenes, too curious and forward to see these passages, would, whether I would or no, range himself in the first rank of the People, just in the Prince his pass: The train of Courtiers which use always to walk before the King, were come to the Altar: Artamenes who much longed to see the King of Cappadocia, sees him enter, and leaning upon the Arm of Aribees, who was then a great Favourite; after him entered the Princess Mandana his daughter; who without all manner of dispute was absolutely the fairest that ever eye beheld: I no sooner saw her appear, but I saw Artamenes also pressing near her, and leaving the stranger which we met with for a fairer object: This Princess might well kindle such curiosity in the soul of Artamenes as she did: Be pleased Sir to remember, as I told you in the beginning of my Relation, that this Princess was born about three years after Artamenes, so that the first time he saw her, she entered upon her sixteenth year: she was this day most richly dressed, and though there did not appear any affectedness in her habit, yet it was infinitely becoming; her Tiffany Veil of Silver did not at all hide the splendour of a thousand rich Jewels set in Gold to deck her Hair, which was the fairest flaxen that ever was seen; her Ornaments did not Eclipse the vivacity of her sprightly looks, which is the essential part of a perfect beauty: She was of an excellent stature, and walked with so much modest Majesty, as she did attract the eyes of all beholders: Her neck no snow so white, her eyes were bluish fair, but so sweet, so lovely, so sparkling, and so full of inviting charms as it was absolutely impossible to look upon them and not admire; Her lips no Rose so red, Her teeth no Ivory so perfect white, nor no Rule so even: Her complexion so pure, so clear, so smooth, and so exact vermilion, that all the lustre of a flowery spring was ugly in comparison of her glorious Idea: Her hands as white and clear as ever any eye beheld, for I beheld this last piece of beauty, as she lifted up her Veil, at her entrance into the Temple, and as afterward with wonder I bebeld all the rest: In short Sir, all these beauties and attractive charms which last I related, are good arguments to render Artamenes more excusable: He was so Planetstruck with all the actions and motions of this Princess, that whether she walked or sat, whether she spoke or were silent, whether she smiled or frowned, she was all charms, all attracts, all admirable: With this Divine apparition was Artamenes surprised, and amorously blasted: So that not regarding Ciaxares, he beholds Mandana coming in such a manner as I told you; but fairer by a thousand degrees then any tongue can tell: He was so ravished, that removing from his station, he got up close to the very foot of the Altar where she kneeled: Feraulas and I seeing him do so, pressed up also: and we saw him so placed that he might both see and be seen by her: for I never in the whole course of my life saw such a passage: since the Princess of Cappadocia came into the Temple, Artamenes minded nothing but her: he knew not whether it was a sacrifice, or only an Assembly, or some public game for a price; he saw nothing but Mandana: He looked upon her continually, and the more he looked the more he liked, and often changed colour: he told us afterwards how he was so wrapped with the Divine Vision, as he had not power to look off her: and he assured us he did what he could to divert his eyes and thoughts, but it was not in his power: Mean while the Sacrifice begins, and the Chief Priest being prostrate at the foot of the Altar, pronounced these words; the King, the Princess, and all observing a hushed silence.  
FOr the happiness of this blessed Peace which we enjoy, Accept (O Mighty God of War) these pure and innocent Victims which here we come to offer, in lieu of those which young Cyrus, the terror of all Asia would have offered, if the goodness of Heaven had not established the Thrones of all the Kingdoms of the Earth in Peace by his death. Receive from the King, from the Princess his Daughter, from all Capadocia, and from all Medea, these their most devout thanks for the great benefit of his death. His death I say, which hath given a happy Peace unto all Asia, and whose life would have put the whole Earth into confusion and misery.  
I leave you to judge Sir, in what a case I was in, and how my Master was started though he minded nothing else but Mandana; for he was much astonished when he heard himself named: I looked him in the face, and he looked upon me, but his mind was upon something else; I removed from my station to come to him: Sir, said I very low, we should not do ill to be gone from hence, but we shall do better (said he blushing) to stay here; When I saw the Prince in that Resolution, I durst not press him further lest some notice should be taken of us: Then I stayed by him, who notwithstanding all this did still look upon Mandana with so much earnestness that he neither minded the death▪ of the sacrifices, nor the perfumes: He perceived no such thing until all the Ceremonies were over, and th' 〈…〉 King and Princess his Daughter were going out of the Temple. Then he followed them out, and I think he would have followed them into the Castle whither they went to dinner, and which was some sixty paces out of Sinope, if I had not stopped him. Sir (said I, showing him the way) that is your way to the Town: then Artamenes, without any answer to what I said, but still looking after the Princess Chariot: as long as they were within sight he never turned his head that way: at last we came to the house where we lodged. All this while our Ship was trimming, and putting into some condition to make sail; but when we came to it, there was a great alteration; for Artamenes at his going to the Temple, was all for haste; but at return, he said they made too much haste to do it well. All dinner while, he spoke little, ate less: for my part, although I saw him look very attentively upon the Princess of Cappadocia, yet I did not think he could so suddenly, in so short a time be charmed. Presently after dinner, Feraulas, whom we had lost in the crowd, comes back; and he having more particularly enquired into the cause of the Sacrifice, he drew Artamenes and me aside; Sir (said he to him) you must prepare for your departure hence, and that presently: and Why such haste, answered the Prince smiling? because (replied Feraulas you are in a Country where the People give thanks to the Gods for your death; and think it such a happiness as they have offered Sacrifice for it. I know that already, answered the Prince without any motion, but since they think me dead they will not seek me alive. But Feraulas (said I) do you know any more than what you had from the mouth of the Priest when he spoke in the Temple? I have learned (answered he) from one of the Sacrificers, that Astyages, being assured by several intelligences that young Cyrus is perished by shipwreck, and believes him to be dead, therefore he hath commanded that same day which is supposed he perished upon, to be a day of Thanks unto the Gods in all the Temples of Medea and Cappadocia, for delivering them from the cause of that apparent danger which the Stars did threaten unto them. Therefore (said he to me) it concerns you to have a care of the Prince his safety, and to consider what would be his Fate if he should be known unto the King or the Princess of this Country, who do so much rejoice for his death, as that they render public thanks unto the Gods for it. During this Discourse of Feraulas, Artamenes was very pensive: and perceiving I was going to speak unto him, he prevented me, and said, with a most sad and disconteuted countenance, Fear not Chrisantes that I shall be discovered, if any thing do it, it will be our too hasty preparations of departure: This may make us suspected, therefore let us stay, and rest quietly: Let us not depart tumultuously. In saying so, he turned from us and would not stay our Answer: Then he took a walk by the sea side, being followed by two Slaves which the valiant Corsaires gave unto him, and Feraulas and I followed presently after: But alas, this walk little pleased him, for we found him in a profound melancholy dump. In short Sir, he was in Love; and loved so desperately, as never man was in more deep Passion. And as this Passion had taken such strong possession of his soul; so the expressions which he had used against Love in his first going to the Temple, caused him to conceal it from us, he being ashamed to discover his weakness. He was continually expostulating with himself what it was which thus troubled him, not well knowing whether it was Love or no: What kind of torment (said he to himself) is this which I endure? From whence proceeds this restlessness of mind? If the sight of the fairest Angel upon earth, be the cause, then am I the most miserable man alive? Yet methinks such beautiful Objects should not infuse any Passions but delight and joy: How comes it to pass then that the Fairest Prospect which ever eye beheld, should cause my sorrow? I know not (said he) whether I should think it Love, or whether some worse humour: But what is it I would have? or what is it I can have? Alas, alas, I neither know what I would, or what I can have; and hence comes all my misfortune and my sorrows: Yet I am most certain of this; that if I follow my own inclination I must Love the Fair Mandana, as great an enemy as she is unto me; But what do I say, I must Love? Ha, no no, I do explain my thoughts but ill; and my tongue betrays my heart if it do not say, I do Love Mandana, and that I will for ever Love her, and that I think myself the most miserable man unless she Love again. But alas, alas, Miserable unfortunate Artamenes? Came I here to see her offer Sacrifices of Thanks unto the Gods for my death? Did I come to learn how Cyrus can never please her, but in the Tomb wherein she thinks him buried? After these Contemplations his Passion was a little qualified: But presently hope which makes Love live, and undertake all impossibilities, and without which there is no subsistence, did persuade him, that Artamenes and Cyrus were two: and that he, as he was Artamenes, was not at all interest in those things which the Medes resent against Cyrus, son to the King of Persia: and that although Cyrus was hated, yet Artamenes may happily be beloved, if he used the means, and endeavoured by his services to render himself worthy of it: As he was thus entertaining himself with this flattering argument; the ardent desire of Fame and Glory which heretofore had held a strong possession in the heart of my Masts, began to come in competition, and dispute for victory, with the Princess of Cappadocia: When his thoughts reflected upon this glorious Rival of Mandana, he then began to rouse up and resolve never to think upon the Princess any more: Why should I (said he) forsake a Mistress which will never fail to recompense me and all which follow her; and whose servitude is so glorious, as she rewards them which are faithful unto her, with no less than Kingdoms, Crowns and immortal Glory: What is become now of my eager desires, to know and to be known of all the world? Poor I, who skulks under the false name of Artamenes; and am buried alive to satisfy my enemies? Have I left Persia for nothing else, but to become a foolish Lover of a Cappadocian Princess? and have I left Cyrus to become a Slave unto one who thanks the Gods for my misfortunes? and who perhaps herself with her own hands would throw me into my grave? No, no (said he) I must not be so foolish as to fetter myself: Recollect thyself Artamenes (said he) and remember how oft thou hast been told in Persia, that Love is a dangerous Passion: Stop entrance therefore into thy heart at first, never let it take Possession, and domineer. But alas, (added he presently) what do I say? what can I do? I speak of resistance, and am already fettered: I speak of Liberty, and I find myself in strong Chains: I think of Reigning, and am a Slave: I speak of Glory and Ambition, and heaven knows, I have no higher than to be Mandanaes' servant: and I will never seek any greater honour, than I can find at the feet of my Princess: I plainly see, that I am more hers then my own, and that all my Reason is far too weak to oppose Love: My own eyes betray me; my heart has left me, and my will is all hers; I would not Love my life but in hopes to employ it in her service: And I find that my Reason, as rebellious as it is against my heart, begins to argue in behalf of my Princess; it tells me secretly that Love is the noble cause of all Heroic Actions; that it took up Lodgings in the hearts of all the Heroes: and that the famous Persian, the first King of my Race, for all his valour, was overcome by it, when he first saw his Andromede: It tells me that the Gods themselves were sensible of it; And that it is never idle, but in the hearts of sluggish spirits; yet most agile in the souls of them who are truly generous. In conclusion of all, it tells me, That since Mandana is the Fairest, and most absolute Beauty in the world, I am excusable if I love her: And that though perhaps I shall not be much commended for it, yet it assures me, I shall not be much blamed; Follow on then Artamenes, pursue thy humour which thus transports thee; and make no more resistance against a Fair enemy, whom thou canst not vanquish, or if thou didst, would repent it. After the agitations and toss of this violent and noble spirit, the Prince began to mend his pace; Feraulas and I followed, but found him so altered, that we began to wonder; such a sorrow sadded his eyes, and all his gestures were so turbulent and disordered, that I began to undertake him, and said; Sir, I cannot understand, from whence all this melancholy can proceed which thus discomposes your face: for though these Sacrifices for your death, I know, cannot be pleasing to you; yet me thinks, such a soul as yours should contemn, and not permit them to trouble you: you I say, who have been taken for dead more than once, and in a more ghastly manner, You have reason Chrisantes (said he to me,) to think that this public thanks is not the cause of my grief; for I assure you, that as soon as Cyrus does revive again, this false joy of his enemies shall be turned into sorrow. But Chrisantes, there is another cause, which I would tell you if I had but confidence enough; for I do confess your wisdom makes me fearful to reveal it: Sir (said I to him) one of your age had need be wise to judge of the wisdom of another: This wisdom whereof you speak, knows no causes of any fear you should have, but shall think himself honoured whe●● you shall impart any secrets unto him. I know not said Artamenes whether or no I should tell you that— at these words Artamenes stopped, and could not for his heart go any further; but not being able to express himself he blushed, and sighed, and smiled; at last looking me in the face he said, Do you not guess my Dear Chrisantes at what I dare not tell you, and for which I fear you will chide me, when you know it? When I heard him say thus, the zeal he used in the Temple, and his eyeing the Princess, made me conclude he was in Love: And remembering what I said unto him, at his first entrance into the Temple; I said unto him, Is it not, that Venus has a mind to be revenged on you for taking Mars his part so much against her? I said this unto him in a laughing and jesting manner, supposing that this humour might chance be but a piece of Gallantry, and a light Fancy which might easily be blown over: But alas, Artamenes, who asked me the question more in earnest, answered me in such a tone, as I saw it must be no common remedy that could cure his disease. But after he had fully opened himself, and told me all, I contributed all I could to divert his thoughts and dissuade him; I urged the little reason he had to love so violently, and the impossibility of ever being beloved again: for Sir (said I to him) if you appear as Cyrus, the Princess will be so far from loving, that she will hate you, and Astyages will be sure to load you with fetters at the least: on the other side, if you court her as bare Artamenes, what hopes can you ever have from Mandana? Can a poor simple Knight pretend unto the Daughter of a great King? A Princess who is looked upon as the sole Successor unto the Crowns of Medea, Cappadocia, Galatia, and Persia also? for since they think you dead, Astyages and Ciaxares will doubtless prepare themselves to usurp it, if Cambyses die first; And though they both know that the Kingdom of Persia is elective, yet since it hath continued successive in the illustrious Line of Persides, ever since his time, they will now pretend it ought to be so still; Recollect yourself therefore Sir; be a man, and assume your Reason: Cast not yourself away frivolously: Hath the gods designed you for such high things, and must you dream away your time in Love? What would you have me do (said the Prince) I have not rendered myself captive with fight; I have consulted and argued with myself as much as you can, and produced as many reasons: therefore Chrisantes, I cannot promise to cure myself upon a sudden, there must be time for it: therefore urge me no more to depart from hence, but give me time to consider: Sir, Replied I, Love is a disease whose venom is contagious, and of a nature so malignant and subtle, that one cannot too soon fly from the place infected: Those who are already infected, do carry the Disease with them (replied the Prince) although they do change Air; therefore press me no more to depart I conjure you, unless you intent to make the Disease worse. But (said I) if you should chance to be discovered, your Ruin were most certain. It would be more certain (answered he) if I should depart, therefore pray let us submit to Fortune, and talk no more of it; The Prince spoke to me in such a manner as it was apparent he desired I should have some indulgence towards him, so that I was glad the Ship was not trimmed up; The next morning Artamenes went again to the Temple of Mars, pretending to inform himself of some particulars concerning the Country: but indeed his design was to find out some Subjects, to speak concerning the Princess: He fell into Discourse with one of the Sacrificers, whom he found to be a man of good ingenuity; he asked this Priest a thousand Questions, before he could handsomely bring in Mandana: at last the asked him, whether Ciaxares had any more Children besides this Princess his Daughter? No, said the Priest, And it is very strange, for the people were wont to affect a King rather than a Queen, but now they have left off that humour; for since this Princess came at age of discretion, her beauty, and her virtue hath so dazzled the eyes of all, that they will not change the Queen for any King. Artamenes was ravished to hear the Priest say so, and said unto him, if the beauty of her soul were like to that of her body, doubtless than she deserved that good opinion; Yes, yes, (answered the Priest) a thousand times more excellent and more virtuous then either you or I can imagine: for she is wondrous fair without vanity or affectation; she sits in a Throne without pride, and considers the misfortunes of poor men with compassion, and her bounty doth often relieve them: Those who have the honour to be more about her than I have, do say, that she is of a most winning conversation: As for myself I cannot speak of her but with thoughts of that Piety which she expresseth towards the gods: I can assure you Sir there is none more religious and virtuous than she, nor of greater wisdom and knowledge in all things that a humane soul is capable of: In a word (added the Priest) she is the honour of her Sex, and a shame unto ours. I leave you to judge Sir, whether the Amorous Artamenes was not in an ecstasy of joy, that he was not deceived in her; and whether or no this did augment his Passion; He looked upon me all the time of this Discourse, and was glad he had found so good an excuse for his weakness: He lengthened the pleasant Discourse as much as he could, and asked the Priest if she came often unto the Temple? When she was at Sinope (answered he) she came hither almost every day. And where ere she is, she will come one day in a year with the King, to render thanks unto the gods for the death of a young Prince, who if he had lived had usurped all Asia; Then she hates his memory (said Artamenes blushing and interrupting him) and is very glad of that man's death, who would have hindered her from being Queen of so many Kingdoms? I never discovered any thoughts of hate in her (said the Priest) and I believe her too good to carry malice to the grave, or to hate the man she never knew, especially such a one as he whom report speaks to have been rarely accomplshed; she knows it her religious duty to take both the good and the bad which the hand of heaven doth give with an equal Thanks; and since she knows that Conquerors and Usurpers cannot act their designs but by the permission of the gods, who makes them only Instrumental to chastise those whom it is their pleasure to disthrone; therefore I suppose her joy proceeds from her knowledge that the gods are appeased by the death of that young Prince whose life did portend destruction to us, but then this Joy is so moderate, and sweetly tempered without the least ingredient of hate or anger, that her soul keeps hell within her limits and without disordered passion. To thank the gods for the death of a man, considering him simply as a man, were impious and sacrilegious rather than any devotion: and neither the King nor the Princess, nor any of the Magis are so ill instructed in Divinity: But to render thanks for the death of Tyrants and Usurpers, who would pull down Thrones, and depopulate Kingdoms, is an act both of justice and piety, which doth not contradict the Rules of Religion, humanity or justice: Artamenes did hearken unto this Discourse with such different resentments, as indeed I pitied him: sometimes he was all joy, and sometimes all sorrow; now in hope, then presently in despair: but however he thought it a great happiness to hear that Mandana was owner of as much virtue and wisdom as he saw she was of Beauty: Mean time, this Priest liked Artamenes very well, and said thus unto him: Friendly Stranger, If you desire to see our stately Ceremonies, Come hither three days hence, for those which we shall then celebrate, will be much more magnificent and sumptuous than these which you have now seen. Artamenes thanked him, and desired to know the end and reason of them; to whom the Priest answered, that there was a Prince and Neighbour unto Cappadocia, called the King of Pont and Bythinia: This Prince being in Love with Mandana, had sent his Ambassadors unto Ciaxares to demand her in marriage; Artamenes being much moved at this, interrupted, and asked him, Whether this Ceremony was for the Marriage of the Princess? No, no, answered the Priest, for we do observe the custom of the Assyrians, who were our ancient Lords, that when a Princess must succeed unto the Kingdom, she cannot by this Custom marry a stranger: and therefore Ciaxares had refused the King of Pont; who being not content with this answer, nor able to help his passion to the Princess, hath confederated with the King of Phrygia, and declared War against the King of Cappadocia: so that their Army being ready to march, the King and Princess come at the time I told you, to supplicate the Gods, especially him to whom this Temple is dedicated, that he would be pleased to prosper their Proceedings, and assist them in so just a War, which maintains the fundamental Law of their Land: Artamenes was so surprised with different Apprehensions, as he had no mind to ask any more questions, but after he had in few words given many thanks, he civilly took his leave; and as he was fully resolved, not to hide any of his thoughts from either Feraulas or me, because he could receive no assistance but from us; so, as soon as he had opportunity he said thus unto us; Was ever such conceited Fortune as mine? are the Gods resolved I should be tormented with two violent Passions at one time? I am no sooner in Love, but I am Jealous also; I no sooner saw her Beauty and her Wisdom, but I understand how it has captivated the heart of a Prince, and that an excellent Prince, whom only one bare Custom of the Cappadocians has caused to be rejected, and nothing else: Who knows, whether the Princess does not in her heart disallow of this Custom? and whether I do not Love one whose soul is already bestowed? Alas, alas, this Customary Law, which makes something worse for the King of Pont, makes me despair: For as he is a stranger, so am I; therefore, for that reason, as also many others, I can never have any hopes of Pretence unto her. Sir, said I to him, if all these difficulties which you imagine, and which are a thousand times greater than you do apprehend, would alter your resolutions, I should with all my heart consent unto it: but since I cannot, yet do not (I beseech) you contend with monsters, and almost impossibilities: No, no, Chrisantes (answered he,) never hope to make me give over my design; especially now, since I can satisfy my desires of Glory, and my Passions for Mandana both together: And since I find a War in Cappadocia, why should I go seek it at Ephesus? But Sir, said I to him, If you should chance be discovered, in what danger are you then? It is not the consideration of any danger (replied he) that can alter me; but I ought, on the contrary, to seek after dangerous enterprises: and to give you full satisfaction, know, that I am absolutely resolved to carry myself so Gallantly in this War, under the Notion of Artamenes, as that Cyrus may without danger come out of his Tomb afterwards. Sir, said I to him; all this while the King your Father and the Queen your Mother, do think you dead, and doubtless are infinitely troubled at it; it is a piece of inhumanity to suffer them continue in it: Why should not you think (as I do, said the Prince,) that this report of my death, is nothing but a device of my Mothers, to divert Astyages from seeking me? and that she hath acquainted the King my Father with his cruelty, so that this false news is dispersed by his consent, and hath sent it to Astyages as true; so that Chrisantes your reasons are too weak to convince me, or make me alter my resolutions: Indeed, I did find some probability in what the Prince had said, not imagining, how any other way, this report of shipwreck should arise: But yet notwithstanding, I fell afresh to persuade him from his Passion: to fly from that Court which was so full of danger to him; and to give intelligence of his being alive, unto the King his Father and Queen his Mother; But as to the first of these, I might as well have bid him do a thing absolutely impossible: As to the second; as no danger could dismay his soul, so he told me, that my reasons were not good, but that I gave them because I had no better: And as to the last, Know, said he, Chrisantes, that Cyrus shall never be known unto the King of Persia, until Artamenes has rendered himself famous throughout all Asia; yes Chrisantes, Astyages shall esteem of Artamenes, Ciaxares shall favour him, the King of Pont shall fear him, and Mandana shall Love him; otherwise he shall sleep in the Tomb with Cyrus: and he had rather die in earnest, than not fully satisfy his desires of Glory, and also his Affection which he owes unto the Princess of Cappadocia. Sir, said I to him, for my part I cannot yield unto Passion, or consent unto the opinion of a man whose Reason is prepossessed and partial, unless I should render my own suspected: Thus we parted, and he went unto Feraulas, who being younger than I, was not so cross unto him in his design, and therefore better pleasing. I began to contemplate and weigh what course to take was best, in a business of such intricacy and danger: As for Artamenes, it were a needless question to ask how he entertained himself with Feraulas, for you may be sure Mandana was all their discourse. Artamenes asked him, if she were not the most perfect Beauty in the world? and as he answered that all Persia had not one comparable to her; that's not enough (replied the Prince:) but tell me, that all Greece, where the fairest women in the world are, has not one who by a thousand degrees comes near her;) and say, that the famous Image of Venus, which we saw at Cyprus, who charmed all that came near, was ill-favoured in comparison of the Princess of Cappadocia, so much does she transcend all the Beauties of the world! Perhaps Sir, I have insisted longer than was sit upon the Passions of Artamenes, and their effects, but I was constrained to suffer that evil which I could not prevent, and to endure that which I could not help. Mean while, the day of Sacrifice, of which we spoke before, approached, Artamenes must be there, and more hasty than any of the Sacrificers, for he was there before any doors were opened: But for all his earnestness, we found the young Stranger, which we met withal in the Temple, before us, who also waited for the opening of the gates: My Master, though he knew no reason for it, yet had some secret odd thoughts of him, finding him there, and more forward than himself; and though out of his civility he could not choose but speak unto him, yet he did it in such a manner, as partly discovered his anger, and made me wonder, for there was never a sweeter and more complacential spirit in the world than his; yet I found by his words as well as by his tone, that this young Stranger did not please him: Certainly (said he to him, in meeting with him,) you are either very full of Devotion, or very full of Curiosity, that you come thus early, to see a Ceremony, wherein on my conscience you have no great Interest, and which cannot afford you any Novelty since you have already seen them: I may say the same to you (answered the young Stranger) since I find you as forward as myself; but I will confess to you, that I saw such delectable sights in the Temple, the last time I met you here, that I could not choose but come again. I would gladly know (replied Artamenes very sharply) which was the most delectable sight you found in the Ceremony; whether the Ornaments of the Temple? the abundance of Victims? the costliness of the sacred Vestments? or the function of Priests? the confluence of People? the Majesty of the Prince? the Magnificence of the Court? or the Beauty of the Princess? It might be all these (answered the sociable Stranger:) but if I be not deceived, you yourself can guess, which among them was the fairest object. Since I believe we are of several Countries (replied my Master) we may perhaps differ in our opinions, and therein also be several; and that which is fair to me, may chance not be so to you; The Persians delight most in their Temples; the Serthians in their Houses; the Grecians immortalize themselves by their Statues; the Asstrians and Medes, in their magnificent Palaces: so every one has his Fancy for his reason, and thinks nothing fair but what complies with his own humour, and carries with it the Custom of his Nation: Yet, replied the Stranger, there be some universal general Beatitudes, which please and hit the Fancy of all Nations; the Sun delights the whole world; Diamonds sparkle in all eyes; and also many Perfections there are which are beautiful to all men upon earth. This discourse, though it was very general, yet it did not please Artamenes; and I am persuaded, that if one of the Sacrificers had not come to open the doors of the Temple, this discourse had not ended so civilly as it begun; for indeed Artamenes harboured a great dislike of him, although he had but few his equal in point of handsome behaviour: The door of the Temple was no sooner open, but presently they parted, and Artamenes shunned converse or meeting with him as much as he could, but mingled amongst the company which came into the Temple. Indeed this Sacrifice was much more magnificent than the last; for as the People are always more forward to pray unto the Gods for deliverance from future misfortunes, then to thank them for any benefit past; so now there were many more multitudes of men, than before, more Ceremonies used, the Victims better adorned; and every thing more delightful to the eye: the Princess also was more beautiful in the eyes of Amorous Artamenes then the first time he saw her: And as Love is always ingenious in conceit, so my Master thought Mandana prayed unto the Gods with more fervency and zeal than she did before: This joyed him much, and made for his advantage, that she should be more earnest with the Gods, for his good success in War, than she was in thanking them for his death: But immediately his Joy turned itself into a contrary Passion; for, Who knows, said he, whether or no she prays for my Rival? and whether the inward devotion of heart do not contradict the outward expression of her lips? Perhaps she prays more for the King of Pont then for the King of Cappadocia: and that the happy success of her affection to that Prince, is the happy success of the War that she prays for? But what am I thinking, mad man that I am? said he to himself? I am offending against a Princess whose Virtue is without blemish, and whose Soul is so sweetly calm, that it cannot be possessed with any Passion: I see it by her eyes, and judge it by her motions, and haply I may find her heart not so stony insensible of Love? In short Sir, not to abuse your Patience; This second view did confirm what the first begun; and one Passage chanced which did much augment his Passion, which was this; The Sacrifice being ended, the Princess did not go out of the Temple so soon as the rest, but stayed at her private Prayers after the King: The People, knowing her custom, retired, and left her at her devotion: Artamenes did not so, for he went not out as long as she stayed: The young stranger was no forwarder to go out then he, but stood always before Mandana: The Sacrificer, with whom my Master had discoursed three days since, found him out among the press; and being willing to do him any favour as a stranger who traveled out of Curiosity, and as a man whose deportment and converse had much pleased him; he came unto him, and told him in a low voice, that if he would have a little patience, he might hear the Princess speak as she went out of the Temple, for (said he) I have a Petition unto her. Artamenes being much ravished with this happy accident, thanked him very civilly for his kind offer, and prepared himself for this happiness which he did not so soon expect. The young stranger overhearing this, pressed after very boldly. The Princess being ready to depart, as she was at the gate of the Temple, the Sacrificer went unto her, my Master following him, and the young stranger following both; The Priest did most humbly beseech her that she would be pleased to mediate unto the King her Father, that during these ensuing wars, he would have a care for the preservation of the Temples: For Madam (said he) the gods are the gods of all Nations; Cappadocia hath Altars as well as the King of Pont; and as victory inclines unto one side, enemies must not be taught how to commit Sacrilege, nor by example of others draw upon themselves the anger of incensed gods. The Princess conceiving his desire just, did thank the Priest, and assured him, she would have a particular care that no disorder in the Temples should be used, as heretofore had been in the war between the Scythians in Medea and Assiria; And that she would move her father to it in the best manner she could. But Grave Thiamis (said she to him, for that was his Name) Be you sure to pray unto the gods for Peace, which is the best way to preserve your Temples; for my part I shall not be at rest as long as the war lasts; and I confess, that I prefer a peace before a victory: Therefore pray uncessantly unto the gods that they would be pleased to change the heart of the King of Pont, and that they would direct the heart of the King my Father to prefer the safety of his Subjects in general before his particular glory: After these words the Princess went away, and left Artamenes in a wonder at her beauty and wisdom; For though she had spoken little, yet he found much purity of expression, much spirit, much complacence and goodness in the sense of her words. In short Sir, the state of Artamenes was incurable: and though I had been able to have eased him, yet he would not hear me; But when we were returned to the Town, and I had considered the matter more seriously, I found no such great danger in it, as at the first I did apprehend: for who knows (thought I) whether it be not the pleasure of the gods by this innocent way, in spite of all the prudence of Astyages, and all his fears, to bring Artamenes unto the Persian Crown, and to make him Lord of all Asia? Can it be imagined that the Divine Powers who never act against reason, have foreshowed all these prodigious portents unto the Magis concerning Cyrus in vain? Did they not expose him to the danger of being devoured by Lions and Tigers? yet did they not miraculously save him? Have they not most divinely accomplished him? Have they not infused great thoughts and inclinations into him? and Have they not conducted him through several Nations without a stop? Did they not preserve him from the danger of that cruel combat with the Pirate? Did they not bring him by Tempest amidst his enemies, and landed him at Sinope? Did they not bring him in the nick of time to be a Spectator when a sacrifice of thanks was offering for his death? Have not the gods cast him into love of her who offered it? Have they done all these wonderful things (I say) to destroy him? no no, It is impossible: Had not the gods destined him unto some greater Fortune, they would have suffered him to perish by Tigers and wild beasts in the house of Mithridates, or have let him perish at Sea, or killed him in some civil combat, or else this Port on which we were blown might have been a Rock. Moreover, I conceived it impossible that Artamenes should ever be taken for Cyrus, because the Cappadocians do seldom or never come into Persia: I remember that the last time Ciaxares sent thither, his Ambassador was a Medean; and I know when he returned he came not to this Court, but went unto Ecbatan; so that of all the places in the world which I can think of, this Court seems to be least dangerous for him: I cannot imagine which way Astyages can come to know that Artamenes is Cyrus, or if he should, it may well be thought he would not treat that Prince ill, who is in Arms for the interest of Ciaxares his son; neither can it be thought that Ciaxares will so much dishonour himself as to be so full of fears as his father. Whereas if he were in any other Court, or if he should be discovered in that other Court, than Astyages would suppose him to be cajolling and inciting his enemies against him, and would contrive all possible ways to destroy him. As long as Astyages lives, Cyrus cannot be more safe than in the Cappadocian Army; since the beginning of his Travels he is more changed than can be credited, so that it will be very difficult for those who saw him at Ecbatan to know him again: or for those who saw him since in Persia, for than he was very young and very little. 'Tis true, Feraulas and I, who lived in some considerable rank at Persipolis may chance come to be known; But we can easily put it off by saying that we changed Masters after the shipwreck of Cyrus: Besides all this; may not Fortune be trusted with any thing? Moreover, who knows but that Love is the only necessary Passion whereby to attain unto glory? Ambition in so young a heart as his cannot retain its violent and harsh desires so long, as to add victory unto victory: yet since the Genius of this age is so much devoted unto pleasures, there is not a more delectable humour in the world to make the most rugged and difficult things seem feasible and easy, than Love: Moreover, since Artamenes is so amiable and extraordinary handsome, who knows but the Princess may love him as well as he loves her? And it may be certainly concluded that since he is hated unknown, he will never be loved if he were known to be Cyrus. These reason's Sir moved me to give some satisfaction unto my Dear Master: yet because I would not trust only unto my own reason in a business of this importance, I caused a Sacrifice the next day to be offered unto the gods, that they would be pleased to inspire me with knowledge how to transact in so nice a business. After the offering I found myself so strongly confirmed in my resolutions to comply with Artamenes in his amorous design, as I thought it would be to oppose the order of heavens, if I should cross him in his affection any more. Thus Humane Prudence which is but a blind director in future things, moved me to consent unto a Design which hath cast my dear Master into that danger wherein now you find him: I did not yield unto him upon a sudden, but by degrees, and seemed to resist him a little at the first: But as soon as I gave my consent that he should endeavour to make himself eminent in the war in which he had engaged himself, our business was only to appear in an Equipage befitting men of some quality: We had yet Jewels sufficient to carry it out, and many more than we stood in need of; so that the business being fully resolved upon, he writ a Civil Letter unto Periander, and commanded the Ship to make for Corinth, and to present that Ship and Letter unto that Famous Greek in lieu of his own which was gravelled upon the Sands in the last Sea combat. Whilst the King and Princess stayed at Sinope, Artamenes saw them very often; and though he had several opportunities of being made known unto them, yet he refused them all, being resolved to do it in a more glorious way then so: Mean while, all preparations for the war goes on, and news is brought every day that the King of Pont and the King of Phrygia were forward on their march towards Galatia. Ciaxares to prevent them draws speedily to the general Rendezvous, endeavouring as much as he could to enter into Bithynia, and carry the war nearer his enemy's Country: And since the Princess his Daughter was the cause of the war, therefore fearing lest the enemy might attempt upon her person in his absence, he would have her follow unto a Town called Anigres, which was not far from that place where he resolved to enter the enemy's Country: Mean while, Artamenes furnisheth himself with such necessaries as are fit, to wit, Arms, Horses, and Tents: He often met with the young Stranger which he had seen in the Temple of Mars: And the same man which sold Arms unto Artamenes, sold also unto Philidaspes, for that was the Name which that Stranger owned; so that meeting together in this place they both of them knew that one and the same desire of glory and honour did inflame their souls to engage in this war; and were both of them but a little satisfied with one another; But not to insist Sir upon any thing which is not absolutely pertinent unto the Story; we come to the Rendezvous: the King viewed his Troops, and we marched towards the enemy: Artamenes with sorrow saw the Princess go to Anigres with two thousand men for her Convoy and Guard: But since it was his destiny to endure all that love could call rigorous, he resolved to comfort up himself in her absence with hopes of Victory and Return: My Master ranked himself in the Squadron of Volunteers, as well to encamp and fight near the King's person, as because in those Troops which had no particular Captain, nor obeyed any orders but the Generals, he might more easily conceal himself, and also because they who desired to make themselves eminent by any notable, might there find the best opportunities. The Army of Ciaxares consisted of forty thousand men, that of the Enemy of fifty thousand. I will not trouble you with relating how many of them were Archers, How many were Darters, nor how many Horse, or how many Foot, since it is not pertinent to my Discourse; and since I have so many Combats and Battles to relate, it is not requisite to insist upon that: For my intention is not to compose the History of Cappadocia, it is the History of Artamenes only which I rehearse: Let me therefore only tell you, that when these two Armies first faced one another, I never in my life saw Artamenes so pleased: He was armed that day after a very remarkable manner. His Arms were Russet wrought with flames of gold; His Plume waving and reaching to the very crupper of his Horse, was of a lively Flame colour: His Horse, according to the fashion of the Country was trapped with studs of steel, part Russet, part gilt: Artamenes carried two Lances in his left hand with a Buckler upon the same Arm; Another Lance in his right hand, and a broad short Sword by his side to use in the throng of his enemies: I never saw him so gallant and pleasant in my life; And though the Persians were never much commended for good horsemanship, yet he managed his with such a quick facility, and sat him in so brave a posture, and with so fine a grace, as he did attract the eyes of all men upon him. The Armies being both ready to fall on, and charge sounded on both sides, Artamenes who was placed in the first rank, no sooner saw a squadron vapour, but he was gone in an instant like a Thunderbolt above a hundred paces before the rest, and fell upon the Enemy with such a fury as he disordered them, broke their Ranks, and struck terror and death into their Army. After the fatal Clouds of Arrows which darkened the Air and fell upon both Armies, were dispelled, and that they came to hand blows, Artamenes then performed such Acts as surpassed all imagination: His three Lances held three of the enemy's bravest men; and when he drew his Sword, woe betid him that stood in his way, and death to him that durst encounter: He looked every where for the King of Pont, and desired to have a bout with him, but could not find him, for hap would have it so, that whilst he was on one side of the Army, the King of Pont was on the other: and though his valour broke all their ranks, squandered their squadrons, and nothing could resist his valour, yet he was not satisfied, and thought nothing eminent enough unless he either held or took the King of Pont Prisoner: His courage was much exasperated when he saw Philidaspes amidst the thick of the confused fight, and observed him as valiant a man as the world had: his valour won him the esteem, emulation, and admiration of Artamenes, when he saw none fight like him; so that observing each other with a brave emulous eye, they strive to surmount one another; and from this time became Corrivals in Ambition and valour: Artamenes was more happy one way then Philidaspes, and fortune gave him better opportunities of showing himself: For the King of Pont who thought he could not end the war better than by taking the King of Cappadocia Prlsoner, since for his ransom he might obtain his Daughter; he therefore kept a reserve of ten thousand men, the best of all his Troops, who had Orders not to fight until a certain sign was given, which should be when they were informed where Ciaxares did keep his Quarter, than they to fall upon him and take him Prisoner: These Orders were punctually obeyed. The King of Pont and the King of Phrygia seeing that the victory did poise in an equal balance, and having discovered the place where Ciaxares was in person, they give the signal: The ten thousand men fell furiously upon us, and put our Army into great confusion: Artamenes had the good hap to be near the King when he was compassed about and ruffly assaulted by his enemies: Indeed, if he had not been there at that time, believe it Ciaxares had not been now in a condition to keep him his Prisoner, for all the world did see he had there else perished. Artamenes seeing this fresh storm fall upon the King, took the boldness to come to him, and said, Sir, though I am but an unfortunate stranger to you, yet if your own Subjects will but do like me, you should overcome (I warrant you) then, not staying for any answer from the King; Come, Come, Follow me my brave men (said he to them which were about him, trembling for fear,) If you will but take heart and follow me, I'll warrant you we will preserve the King, and yet honour enough besides. These words, and the confidence which they saw in the eyes of Artamenes, did so rouse up their dull spirits that they began to courage up: then he led them on, and charged the enemy with an unimaginable fury; Now since the Enemy had commands to spare Ciaxares his life, and to take him prisoner only, therefore they durst not fight so tumultuously lest then they should perhaps kill him unawares; yet Artamenes slew such a Number of them though they defended themselves as well as they could, that it was a wonder he was not tired with killing: But whilst he was in this gallant Fury he heard many cry confusedly The King is taken, and immediately after, The King is killed: At the sound of these sad words he turned about, and saw a body of Horse who guarded the King whom they had taken, whether alive or dead: he made strait towards them: Then animating those Cappadocians which followed him, and spying Feraulas and me, called us by our Names; Come away, said he to us, Let us go and relieve the King; and let us not be less valiant in delivering him then our enemies have been in taking him: Then we charged that body of Chivalry, in the midst of which we perceived some confusion, and as it were a fight. The Gallant Artamenes broke the ranks of the Enemy, and gave a death to all he met; Being come to the middle of the Squadron, he saw Ciaxares with some fifteen or twenty, who having got Arms in their hands, would not render themselves unto those who compassed them about: And when the Enemy saw that Artamenes was like to relieve Ciaxares, there was one desperate fellow amongst them, who thonght it was more advantageous for the King of Pont, that Ciaxaees were killed rather than escape: therefore he lifted up his arm which held a great Sword, to strike the King upon his head, which was then bare, for he had lost his Helmet in the Combat, the buckles being broken: This blow had inevitably killed him, if Artamenes had not stepped in with his Sword, and run this rash man through the heart, and made him fall at his feet, just as the blow was falling upon the King's head: The King seeing this, called him his Preserver and Deliverer: And my Master, thinking the like chance might hap again, took his own helmet from his head, and put it upon the Kings: Then without speaking a word or losing a minute of time, he went immediately out again to fight, resolving his buckler should defend the blows from his head: This act which was observed both by friends and enemies, wrought different effects: The King was amazed at it, and would needs give him his head-piece again; But his enemies when they saw better than before the admirable beauty of Artamenes, and that martial disposition which did so easily become him in Combat, they thought some Divinity had descended to preserve Ciaxares from his enemies, and against whom it was no boot to resist; therefore their fears did increase, and many thought their heels to be the best arms: Artamenes followed them, and drove them upon the left wing of their own Army which put them into disorder, so that he had absolutely defeated them if night had not been so near, which hindered his pursuit, and caused both parties to retire unto their colours. Philidaspes, though he was not present at all these passages, yet did he much contribute unto the happy success of this great Action? for it was he who kept our right wing from giving ground, and who sought with the left wing of the enemy whilst we had our hands full in delivering the King; so that if he had not been, we should have had the main bodies of both the Kings upon us, and then could never have been able to do as we did: And so that it may truly be said it was only Artamenes and Philidaspes which preserved Cappadocia at this time; yet since the art of Artamenes had the fortune to have the King for a witness, who thought it Artamenes only which saved his Crown and his life, therefore he had the greater honour and better fortune: Mean while, night invites all unto their Tents, the Victory not being absolutely declared: Artamenes bethought himself of two slight hurts in his left Arm, which though, it did not cause him to bed: The King also received a little hurt in the hand, but we understood by one of our Soldiers who had been taken Prisoner and escaped, that the King of Pont had a considerable wound with an Arrow, and which was a cause neither side had any mind to fight again. Ciaxares was no sooner come into his Tent, but he sent to seek out his deliverer, and to bring him thither; yet since none knew the Name of Artamenes, it was next day in the morning, before Ciaxares could satisfy his extreme desire to salute and thank him for saving his life: at last, my Master being found out, and being so commanded from the King, he comes unto him; but he addressed himself with such modesty and reverence, as if he had done him no service at all. After his first appearance before the King, every one accosted him, and desired acquaintance: Philidaspes also gave him a respective Compliment for his good fortune the day before: all admired his handsome presence, and were inquisitive to know the place where he was born: The King no sooner saw him, but he went to meet him and embrace him: After these first welcomes, the King did commend him so much, as the modesty of Artamenes could not endure it: Sir, said he to him, I have done yet so little in your service, that if I did not hope to do you more another time, I should be very much ashamed of this: but if I may have the honour to continue a Soldier under your Colours, the zeal which I have unto your service, and the examples of these gallant men, which are in the Army, will create new desires of Glory in me, and enable me to accomplish it; and till I have done something worthy of them, I dare not without blushing receive such commendations from such a Prince as Ciaxares: Your modesty, answered the King, does as much astonish me as your valour, it being more extraordinary to find that grave Virtue in one so young, then to fight, which is a tumultuous act, and more suitable with your years. Sir (replied Artamenes) your Majesty must pardon me, if I think you not Phrase it aright, and call that modesty in me, which is but a bare resentment of my consciousness, for since I have seen all these Gallant men which hear me, perform such brave Acts, and amongst the rest (said he in showing him Philidaspes) this Noble stranger, it would be extreme boldness and vanity in me, to think I can deserve any commendations for what I have done: rather I will receive them from your Majesty, as a spur to quicken me up hereafter unto Gallantry, then as a recompense for what is past. I see (answered Ciaxares,) it is a hard matter to overcome you in anything, and this makes me afraid to ask you of what Country you are, lest you should have no willingness to impart it: Sir (replied Artamenes, following the resolution which we fixed upon when we came from Sinope, and which I forgot to tell you) I was born in that Country, where the People are from their Cradles both Wise and Valiant: and the reason why I desire to conceal it, until I have made myself worthy of it, is, lest my Actions should become a shame unto it: If that be your reason (replied Ciaxares smiling) you may very well satisfy my Curiosity: for whether you be Greek or Persian, which in my opinion, are the two Nations which come nearest the description you gave of yours, or whether you be the Son of some great and wise King, it would be an honour unto him to have you for his Country man: Artamenes with a low reverend Congee, said unto him; Since you both commend and command me Sir, I will tell you that my birth is very Noble, and moreover that I am of that Country which is as considerable as any one upon earth: But to tell you Sir the Names of my Parents, and the particular Place where I was born, is a thing I neither can nor aught to do, having, for some reasons which would very little concern your Majesty, if you knew them, promised, and fully resolved not to make myself known until my return: therefore I most humbly beseech your Majesty, command me not to discover it: And be pleased to know, that when your Majesty hath any Service to command me, he who calls himself Artamenes shall obey you: It were most unjust (answered Ciaxares) to exact that from you, which you are not willing to impart, and I am too much indebted to you to compel you unto any thing: See Sir, all the disguise which Artamenes takes upon him; this Great and Noble Soul being exact in all Virtue, could not speak the least lie: After this, Ciaxares did treat him with all imaginable civility, and desired him to Command a thousand Horse, whose former Commander had been killed in the late battle: Artamenes at the first excused himself, and refused it; but afterwards, lest he should displease Ciaxares, he accepted of it; he thanked the King for the Honour, and assured him that he would employ it the best he could in his service. And because there was another place vacant, by the death of the former Commander also, Ciaxares conferred that Regiment upon Philidaspes, whom he had known longer than my Master; for Aribees, who as I formerly said was then a favourite, had presented him, before the coming from Sinope. The King had no sooner conferred this last Honour upon Philidaspes, but Artamenes did congratulate with him, who returned him a civil Compliment, but yet harboured within his heart many sparks of jealousy at all the Honours which Ciaxares had done unto Artamenes: Mean while, Artamenes is looked upon as the King's deliverer, and it were a crime in any one not to bid him welcome. So that as well for that respect, as because he had a natural pleasant way of attracting the hearts of all which see him, therefore he is visited, extolled and welcomed by all the Court and all the Army: The Regiment especially which he commanded, were beyond all expressions pleased with him, and came to tender him their first offers of obedience with abundance of joy: Philidaspes and he did also visit one another; and you must know that Philidaspes reported his Country to be Bactrian. Now since the battle was bloody on both sides, and all things in great disorder, therefore, neither side thought yet of any fight again; wherefore the King being desirous to advertise his daughter of all passages, and being pleased to honour my Master so far as to acquaint him with his desire, commanded him to go unto Anigres, and carry his Letter unto Mandana, and also to acquaint her how he was alive, and preserved by his valour; the King said unto him smiling that a man which bore his arm in a Scarf might very well leave the Army for four days without dishonour or suspicion of being taken for a dissector of it, and at the desire of his friend not refuse such a Commission. I leave you to judge Sir how this joyed Artamenes, and how it wrought upon his thoughts: he changed colour at The first motion of it, and not daring to accept of it without first refusal, Sir, (said he) the hurts which makes me carry my Arm in a Scarf are so small, that they will not hinder me from fight against your Enemies, if occasion should be offered, and because I am afraid some such opportunity may presently present itself, I dare not accept of this Commission wherewith you would honour me; No No (said Ciaxares, and giving him the Letter unto the Princess) do not think that we will fight without you: for you are sufficiently convinced me, that it is absolute necessary to have your help before we can conquer our Enemies: But yet it is fit that a Princess who must wear the Crown of Cappadocia, as soon as she comes at that age which is appointed by the Laws, should know what services you have done her, and that she should receive the intelligence from your own mouth, to the end you may receive from hers that acknowledgement and thanks which is your due; As Artamenes was ready to answer, Philidaspes who for some reasons which you shall hereafter know, was not pleased with my Master, should have this Commission, addressed himself unto the King with a very comely grace, and said smiling unto him, If it be your Majesty's pleasure the Princess should be informed of all the brave acts of this gallant Stranger, I conceive that since he is so modest, it is not convenient to send him, because that Modesty will rob him of that honour which is his due; therefore if your Majesty would be pleased to give me leave, I shall present his Panegyric unto the Princess; I, I say, who was an eye-witness of his valour, and a great admirer of it: Artamenes hearing and seeing Philidaspes so forward, was afraid the King should consent unto his desire, therefore without giving the King time to answer, he said, Sir, since the acts of this Gallant Stranger who speaks, are so illustrious, and much more than mine, it would be but just in me to present them unto the Princess myself: therefore without any further opposition unto your Majesty's Commands, I will accept of the honour, since there is more reason I should speak his Elegy than he mine. Sir, Replied blushing Philidaspes, his going will lessen the honour of Artamenes; but (Replied my Master) it shall not lessen the honour of Philidaspes. The King being much pleased with this pleasant Controversy (of which you shall hereafter know the cause) would be Empire in the matter, and gave this judgement betwixt them. I will (said he to Artamenes) thus far hearken unto the advice of Philidaspes, as to use it as an Antidote against your too much modesty: I will therefore have Arbaces the Lieutenant of my Guard go along with you, to help out your modesty, and speak aloud those things which perhaps you will not; so the King took the Letter from him, and when he had altered it gave it unto him again; Artamenes took it with as much joy as Philidaspes saw it with anger: As I remember it was thus indicted:  
Ciaxares King of Cappadocia and Galatia unto the Princess Mandana his Daughter.  
HE who shall give you this Letter having saved my life, I thought none more fit to acquaint you with the danger wherein I was, than he who delivered me from it: And I could not devise a more prevalent way to cause his stay amongst us then those prayers and desires which I know you will make unto him: And because I am acquainted with his modesty, therefore I have sent Arbaces with him, that he may tell you what perhaps the modesty of the other will not permit him; for I see he hath a better faculty in extolling the valour of another than his own. In short, he hath saved my life, and hath vanquished all my Enemies, if night had not hindered his pursuit. Pray unto the Gods that all my Captains may be like unto him: and though you cannot make him my Subject, endeavour at the least to make him my Friend:  
Ciaxares.  
Judge you Sir, what Joy was this unto Artamenes: Feraulas waited upon this little journey, and was a witness of all passages and my Master's Entertainment. Alas! said he to himself in reading the latter end of the Letter, how unnecessary is this Prayer? how impossible a thing it is to be a Lover of Mandana and not a friend unto Ciaxares? yes, yes, think no more of it; I am, and will be a friend unto the King of Cappadocia, and to the King of Medes also, and so great a friend too that I will be an enemy unto Cyrus; Let him keep in his Tomb still, unhappy Cyrus, who is the object of all the fears and hates of these Princes as long as Artamenes is thus happy, keep still in the obscurity of thy Sepulchre, and never come out: Oh Artamenes, happy Artamenes, (added he) thou art going to see thy Princess, and to speak unto her; to be commended by her, to be known unto her, and happily may prove so fortunate as not to be hated: But alas, alas, that is not enough, for to be perfectly happy is to be beloved: Thus Sir, were the spirits of Artamenes inspired with all the delicate and tender passions which Love could contrive: Sometimes his soul was all joy, sometimes again quite quashed with fear, for who knows (said he) but that for all the King's Letter to her, I shall incur her dislike? there ere secret suggestions of soul which moves us to love or hate, for which no reason can be given, and against which there is no resistance: so that perhaps though I be not the most odious of men, and though I have done some considerable service to the King and her, yet, if I should be so unfortunate as to find such an antipathy in her soul, than all my actions, my services, and observances, though I owned all the virtues in the world, and though I had all the Crowns of the earth upon my head, yet I should never win her affection: I may perhaps by these obtain her liking and esteem, but that will not satisfy me: Love is such a capricious Passion as it will never be content with any thing but Love again: And I should conclude myself the most unhappy of men, if I should find in my Princess only a bare esteem without affection: The violent Raptures of his spirit, made him busy himself about a hundred petty things which heretofore he never thought upon. As soon as he came to Anigres, he would himself choose what clothes to wear, and asked Feraulas a hundred times, which he should take, and which did best become him; To ●●e short, when he was dressed and wearing a very magnificent rich Scarf of golden Tissue, to bear his Arm in, he was conducted by Arbaces unto the place where the Princess was. Artamenes Sir, did afterwards confess unto us that he had more timorous motions of spirit at that time, then when he fought with that valiant Pirate, or when he fought in the last battle: This great heart which never trembled in most horrid hangers, was now possessed with such fear, that had not his joy a little tempered it, he had quite shamed himself, and incurred the Princess disfavour: but at last being come into her Presence-Chamber, magnificently furnished (Arbaces having acquainted her before, whilst he was dressing himself, in what manner she should receive him) where she was waited upon by a great number of Ladies which waited upon her in this voyage, and also many others of the Town and Province: She was that day dressed but negligently, yes so fair and charming did she appear in his eye, that (as he told me afterwards) he saw none of the other beauties and rich attired Ladies about her; so much was his eyes and mind possessed with this powerful object. The Princess no sooner saw my Master but she rose up, and having been already told of all the services which he had done her father, she prepared herself to receive him with joy and thanks: Artamenes made two congees, and approaching with all reverence due to one of her quality, he kissed the King's Letter and presented it unto her: When she had read it, he was beginning his compliment, but the Princess in a most obliging manner prevented him and said; What Divinity (Noble Stranger) brought you amongst us to preserve all Cappadocia thus in preserving the King, and which enabled you to do him better service than all Subjects could? Madam (answered Artamenes) you have reason to think some Divinity brought me hither, and that some Benevolent Divinity too, since it hath brought me to the honour of being known unto you, and enabled me to render some small piece of service unto the King, which might have been performed by any other hand as well as mine: Modesty (said the Princess, turning to the Ladies about her) is so essentially belonging unto our sex, as I know not whether I should suffer this Gallant Stranger to usurp it or no: he cannot be content to enjoy his own eminent valour, unto which we cannot pretend, but he must take upon him our modesty also; when we commend his Gallantry, as women may very allowably do when their beauty is commended: For my part, (added she) and looking upon Artamenes: I find some injustice in your proceedure, and ought not to suffer it, though I cannot choose but infinitely commend you for it. Such Madam as you (replied Artamenes) ought to receive praises from all the world, and not to give them unto any but very slightly, lest you should repent, therefore I beseech you Madam do not run that hazard; stay Madam until I have the honour to be better known unto you: I know already by Arbaces, answered she, that you are thought to be of that Nation (though you will not confess it) who amongst all those great qualities you attribute unto them are suspected of craft and Subtlety; yet that which you have done doth well deserve to be excepted out of the general rule, nor can I suspect that your Prudence out of your excess of reason, should degenerate into craft: but on the contrary, I am fully persuaded you are the very same you seem to be. I am much obliged unto you Madam (answered Artamenes) that your Goodness is pleased to make such a favourable exception; I can assure you that in doing so you are not deceived, and the cunning Artifice of which the Greek Nation is suspected cannot be laid unto my charge; But Madam, whether I be Greek, as it seems you think I am, or of any other more ingenious Nation, I have ever reason to say, that since you have a good opinion of me, I have cause to fear lest time should make you alter your opinion: Time (replied she) can never make any such alteration, but what you have already done deserves commendation, and for it must ever retain a good opinion of you, as of him that hath saved the life of my Father. I wish Madam, answered he, you may never lose it, and that the most glorious Princess of the world may ever do me that honour as not to think me quite unworthy of her esteem. After this, the Princess did inquire of all circumstances concerning the fight, and Artamenes did exactly relate it excepting those passages which concerned himself, and them he slightly passed over in few words, which made Mandana (who had all the story of his acts from Arbaces) much to wonder: But Artamenes did not fail to speak very advantageously in the behalf of Philidaspes and his valour; whom the Princess remembered to have seen at Sinope a little before her departure. In short, his deport 〈◊〉 was so happy in this first acquaintance, as he was highly cried up by all the Ladies: And though he had not the entire freedom of his soul, since he was so heart-bound, and tied by the eyes unto the beauty of Mandana, yet did he not now seem half so much bewitched as formerly he had been: His lovely presence, discreet Civility, sweet modesty, and his handsome Garb, joined to the Eloquence of his words and wisdom of his mind, did blind all the disorders of his soul, and made them not perceived, so that he departed from this entertainment with a general applause. Arbaces lodged him in a Chamber of the Castle which looked towards the Garden, and expressed all the care which was due unto one who had preserved the King his Master: Artamenes was no sooner in his stately Chamber, but desired to walk in that Garden which was a Prospect unto his Chamber; so little rest did his amorous inquietudes permit unto him; not but that he was infinitely joyed at the Princess, and the Civilities wherewith she treated him; but as an effect of Love which is of such a nature as it always causeth pleasing troubles, and never moves unto any joy or sorrow but tumultuously, and in odd agitations or disorders. Artamenes then, as happy as he was, yet was restless, and would fain have entertained more Discourse with the Princess, so more strongly have captivated himself in fresh chains and charms, which he found in her eyes and discourse. However, his Reason doth no more oppose his Love, but rather assist it in contriving ways conducible unto his satisfaction. Sometimes he feared he had not spoke all he had to say, or that he was not well enough prepared to speak what he did. However, the sweet Idea of Mandana was it which filled every cranny of his amorous soul: At every turn he thought he saw her, and fancied every feature: telling himself a hundred times She was absolutely the fairest and wisest in the whole world. After he had thus fancied her, and thinking that she had something of Gallantry in her spirit, which (without prejudice to her natural modesty) did incomparably set her off; after I say he had pleasingly contemplated all these things over and over again; O ye Gods (said he) if since she is so lovely it should so fatally fall out, as that she cannot love me, what will then become of miserable Artamenes? but (presently recollecting himself) since she seems to be sensible of benefits and glory, let us go on as we have begun, and act so gloriously, that although her Genius should be against me, yet her esteem of them may win her affection at least esteem of me whether she will or no: For though I confess one may esteem a thing a little which they do not absolutely love; yet I conceive one cannot esteem any thing very much which they do not love a little. Let us hope then, and render ourselves worthy of pity if not of Love. As he was thus descanting upon the state of his love, Feraulas told him that he saw the Princess at the end of a Walk; who according to her usual Custom came to take the Air in the Garden about the Sunsetting: Artamenes observing she came towards him, had doubtless out of reverence gone into another walk, if she had not beckoned unto him to come nearer: But Sir, to avoid being tedious, I must in short tell you, that in this walk and new discourse, Artamenes discovered such fresh Beauty, and so much admirable wisdom in the soul of Mandana that as before he only Loved her, so now he adores her. The Princess also better discovering the spirit of my Master, conceived a very great esteem of him, and treated him more respectively then at first. To fulfil the King's commands, she endeavoured to persuade his Continuance amongst them: but alas how unnecessary was that Prayer? and what joy did he resent, to hear her ask that which he himself had so great a desire unto, and which was so suitable unto his Passion? After he had brought the Princess unto her Chamber, who was waited upon by many Ladies of Honour, she gave order he should be waited upon unto his with all possible magnificence, and was punctually obeyed. All this while he mentioned not a syllable at the Table concerning the Battle, but when all the waiters were retired, and he being alone with Feraulas, all his discourse was of Mandana; he asked his opinion concerning her; Whether all these felicities which had been conferred upon him did not please him? But before they ever thought of it, and contrary to their intention, the night was more than half spent in discourse with Feraulas, who doubtless did not cross his fancy, since he found Mandana fair above all natural excellencies: At last, they went to bed, but not to sleep; for when it came into his thoughts, that he was to return unto the Camp in the morning, and that Manners commanded him to take his leave before he went, then there was no room for sleeping; but he rose in the morning before he had shut his eyes, and as soon as the Princess was to be seen, he addressed himself unto her, and desired he might return to the place whither his duty called him, and where the King and state of things required him: But she would not permit him, for she told him, that she desired he should be a witness of a Sacrifice of thanks, which she would that day offer unto the gods, for preserving by his hand, the King her father: and that he might assure himself she was pleased with his company, she expressed herself thus, I pray you Artamenes stay, but I dare not command you: But you may Madam, answered he, and more than that, for I and all the earth ought to pay obedience unto such a Princess. Artamenes stayed then the other day in Anigres, and went unto the Temple with the Princess, whom he had the honour to accompany: All the People cried him up with ten thousand applauds as their Benefactor, for it was divulged in a moment, both by Arbaces and the Princess Domestiques; that it was he which preserved the King. The next morning being come sooner than he wished it, he must take leave, and be gone; which without doubt he did with as much grief as Love, although he durst not express either, more than by silence and profound reverence. She gave him a Letter to the King her Father, the effect whereof I can tell, for Ciaxares showed it unto every one, in hopes to oblige my Master the more by it, and there was none in all the Army, which had not either seen it or heard the contents, which were these:  
The Princess Mandana, to the King of Cappadocia and Galatia her Father.  
SIR,  
IT was not without some reason, your Majesty did mistrust the Modesty of Artamenes, since it was only by the Lieutenant of your Guard, that I came to know what he had done for your Preservation, and by consequence for the preservation of all Cappadocia, all Galatia, Medea, and of Mandana, whose death had been included in yours: He told me of the great danger to which your Majesty was exposed, but he intimated not a syllable of his own valour which relieved you, so that I might for ever have been ignorant of it, had I not heard more from others then him. I have so persuaded him of your Virtue, and tied him to your service, as more endeavours had been useless. But Sir I beseech you, let not my Prayers be fruitless, when they shall desire you, not to expose your precious Life unto any more hazards: Your Majesty may do well to consider, how the happiness of all the Kingdoms depend upon it; and perhaps Artamenes may not be always so fortunate as to relieve you: Commit the care of Conquering your Enemies unto this Gallant Stranger, and employ him no more in preserving the Life of that Prince, in which is inseparably concerned the Life of  
Mandana.  
Artamenes, delivering this Letter to the King, was welcomely received; Philidaspes, who heard it read, was the only man who seemed to be displeased at it: The envy which appeared in his looks, discovered the anger and trouble of his mind. Few days after, my Master's wounds were well recovered, and he was not idle in the exercise of that Regiment under his command: As the two Armies were entrenched near one another, so he was continually sending out Parties, which always returned with the advantage, for he quite beat up one quarter of the King of Phrygias Brigade: Philidaspes was also very fortunate in the like encounter. Now though this War was begun by the King of Pont, because he was refused the Princess of Cappadocia; yet because this ground for it, was not plausible enough in the eyes of the People, since nothing ought to be more free than Marriages, nor nothing could be more just than the authority of Fathers over Children; nor nothing more unalterable than the fundamental Laws of a State, which here did forbid the banes; therefore the pretence and colour of this War was given out to be, a right he had unto two Towns, which bordered on either side of a great Plain, between Galatia and Bithynia; both these Princes conceiving, that both these Towns belonged unto them, though both of them were in Possession of that Town which bordered upon their own Provinces: So these two Towns were declared the cause of the War: the one called Cerasia, in possession of the King of Pont; the other Anisa, in possession of the King of Cappadocia: But since the King of Pont was much wounded, and his Surgeons told him, he would not quickly recover, therefore he protracted fight as much as he could: yet for all that, he could not choose but be often skirmishing. The victory seemed always to poise equally, unless when Artamenes and Philidaspes appeared: Mean while the King of Phrygia had received private intelligence, how the King of Lydia would declare war against him, and enter into his Dominions: he imparted it unto the King of Pont, who was much troubled at it; knowing that if the King of Phrygia fell off, he was not able to resist Ciaxares, who had under his command, not only Cappadocia and Galatia, but also all Media and Persia. Whilst the Princes were in Council what to do in such a cross conjuncture, the King of Phrygia advised, That before this News was divulged or known unto Ciaxares, it were expedient to send unto him, and make an offer, to determine the controversy by Combat of two hundred men against two hundred men, that so the War may be sooner ended, and much blood spared: for, said the King of Phrygia to him, if the War with Lydia do not hold me long, Pretences enough may befound out to break the Peace with the King of Cappadocia: The King of Pont seeing no likelihood for him to come off with honour, if Phrygia should decline him, therefore he approved of this advice notwithstanding all his bravery, and his Passion for the Princess, or his ambitious desires of Glory. He sent therefore Propositions unto Ciaxares accordingly; who held a Council of War concerning it: Opinions were different, some for it, some against it; Aribees who found the continuance of the war was for his own advantage did openly oppose it; but yet Ciaxares considered that Astyages his Father King of Medes was so old he could not live long, and therefore had no mind to be engaged in a long War, since when his Father died he was then to leave Cappadocia and go into Medea; and considering the state of things, how the Ponteans were more numerous than the Cappadocians, and that success of war is dubious, therefore he accepted the offer: The Controversy was to be determined within eight days. The Articles of Conditions were these following.  
1. That both Princes should draw off their Armies into those two Towns which were under their respective subjections, and which were the Causes of the War.  
2. That the Combat should be fought in that great Plain between the two Towns, and where now the Armies were entrenched, and those two Towns to be the utmost limits of them.  
3. That either Prince should as he pleased, choose those which should fight for their interest, without consideration of Rank or Quality, but that valour only was sufficient to be admitted into Combat.  
4. That the Combatants of both sides, coming out of these two Towns at one time, should meet in the middle of the Plain where they were to fight.  
5. That they should fight on foot, and have no other Arms, than each man two Javelins and a Sword, but not to bring any Bows or Arrows.  
6. That the two enemy-Kings should stay the event of this Combat, each of them in the head of their own Army, near the Town where they are to encamp, without any information but by the return of the Conqueror, it not being permitted unto the Conquered to return, or have any Quarter of Life from their enemies; nor either party to send any intelligence of disadvantage.  
7. That the success of the Combat being known; the two Kings, guarded only with two thousand men a piece, shall meet in the place of fight, as well to salute one another, as to verify the report of the victorious.  
8. That Hostages shall be given on both sides.  
9 That these Hostages which shall remain in the two Camps, shall visit, and search the two hundred men which must fight, to the end, they shall bring no other Arms then is permitted by Conditions.  
10. That after the Combat, the Party vanquished shall abandon the Town, and draw off his Army into his own Country: that the Conqueror shall take Possession of that Town for which the War Commenced.  
11. That the bodies of those two hundred men of the Parties vanquished, shall receive no ignominy, and that their Funerals shall be solemnised with honour together with those which are dead of the Party conquering, upon the place of Combat.  
12. That after this, Peace shall be firmly established between the two Princes, and Commerce allowed between their Subjects, the King of Phrygia to be comprised within this Peace as an ally of the King of Pontes.  
All these Articles being agreed upon, and signed by both Parties, they were published in both Camps, and both Armies began to move towards the Towns unto which by Articles they were to repair. The Princess hearing of it, desired to see her Father and came unto Anisa, the day before those who should be chosen Combatants were elected. I leave you to judge Sir, how all they who had a desire to purchase Fame and Honour, were solicitous to be accepted of in this service: and I leave you to judge also whither Artamenes and Philidaspes would not be with the foremost. The last of these two did presume upon the favour of Aribees; and my Master, though he was extremely thirsty of Honour, yet could not assure himself of that favour; for though he had done the King great service, and his valour was sufficiently known, yet because he was a stranger, his fears were above his hopes, and that objection would be a great obstacle: yet he thought that if he were not accepted to be one of them, than all his hopes of Mandana would be quashed: For, said he, what can I do to obtain her esteem in a calm Court, where I shall find no occasions of serving her? but if I could be an assistant to get this victory, I should then have some ground to build my hopes upon: But alas, I fear that I am not fortunate enough for that happiness, and I fear Philidaspes will be preferred before me, though he be a stranger as well as I: For, Sir, it is not to be imagined how these two young Gallants did in all their actions extremely envy, at least emulate one another. The Princess was no sooner come, but Artamenes went immediately to her without my knowledge, and as soon as he found an opportunity, Madam, said he, I come to beg a favour, though I confess, I am unworthy of it: You are worthy of all (answered the Princess sweetly) and be assured, if the thing you desire be neither unjust nor impossible, you shall certainly obtain it: and since I know you are too noble and wise to desire any such, you cannot doubt but your desire is granted: I know, Madam (said he, doing humble reverence) that the thing I desire is in your power, since it is in the Kings, who I am sure can deny you nothing; but I confess I dare not assure myself there is as much justice in my Petition, as there is possibility; and though I do but what I ought in endeavouring to obtain it, yet I know not whether you shall do as you ought in granting it: Nevertheless Madam, I will ask it, and that with as much zeal as my soul is capable of: and if it be so that the good fortune which I had in doing the King a little service, has any thing obliged you, I beseech you let me obtain this desire, as the greatest and most glorious recompense that ever I can obtain. Prevail I beseech you most adored Princess, with the King your Father, that he will do me that great honour, to admit me to be one of the two hundred Combatants which must fight. That which you ask (replied the Princess with much wonder at his generosity) is not impossible, but most advantageous unto the King my Father: but I must confess, I do not think it just, since, when you have saved his life as you have done, you should receive so bad a recompense, as to expose your own in a fight, which according to the Articles must needs be bloody, and full of danger: You are too good Madam (answered Artamenes) to fear my destruction: But trouble not yourself Madam; for the care you have of me will preserve me in the midst of dangers; and it cannot be thought the Gods will destroy what you would save: Therefore Madam, (continued he smiling) since I shall fight without danger, do me the honour to assist me in my suit: For Madam (added he, assuming a more serious look) if I do not obtain it I must needs fly from the place I live in, since I cannot live in it without dishonour, and where they do not think me worthy to do that which two hundred others can do. If there were but one to fight, perhaps than I should not dare to think myself, being a stranger, worthy to defend your interest; but since the number is two hundred which must have the honour, I think Madam, I may without any great presumption beg this noble Office: I would very willingly (answered the Princess most candidly) Petition you another might be chosen in your room, but since you do so earnestly desire it, I will promise you to ask the King my Father. As Artamenes was ready to answer and gratefully cast himself at her feet, Ciaxares comes into the chamber: the Princess no sooner saw him but she went towards him, saying, Sir, This Noble stranger is so insatiable of honour and glory, as not being content with the service he hath done you already, would yet have you receive another victory from his hand, and desires you to admit him into the number of the Combatants. Ciaxares, ravished with this Proposition, embraced him and thanked him for his zeal to his service, but it was a long while before he would consent, and since the Princess did not speak all this while, Artamenes turned towards her and said, Madam, do you remember your promise? No, answered she, I do confess I cannot keep my word, and that fight is so contrary to my disposition, that nothing can be obtained from me, but prayers that all Wars and Fightings may cease; Ah Madam (replied he) your goodness obliges me, and undoes me both. Then did he so earnestly importune Ciaxares, that after many denials, he consented: not but that he was very glad a man so valiant as Artamenes would fight, but his denial proceeded from him as an effect of his love to him, and because he feared to lose him in this encounter. To tell you what was the Joy of Artamenes, how many thanks he gave the King, what graceful addresses he made unto the Princess, and what excuses he had, that he had so flenderly served her, would be to lose precious time, since I have so many notable things to tell you; however I must needs tell you how Philidaspes, who put on to be one of this fatal number, did miss of his desire; for though Aribees could have told him that Ciaxares would not admit him, yet he excused it handsomely, and told him that Artamenes having spoken first, and Ciaxares having already consented unto one stranger, would not by any entreaties admit of any more, lest the Cappadocians. should murmur, who would think it a wrong done unto themselves. This accident caused much sorrow in Philidaspes, so that had he not otherwise been more considerably interested in the King, he would have quitted the Court and Camp upon it; that which most stuck in his stomach, was that Artamenes should be preferred before him, being a stranger as well as he: And though Ciaxares told him afterwards, that if he had spoken first he should not have been denied, yet this did not satisfy him: On the contrary, the joys of Artamenes were doubled by the sorrows of Philidaspes; and this great soul, as generous as he was, could not choose but rejoice at his grief, such was the violent emulation between these two high spirits. Am I not very happy, said he to me, when he met me, that I must either overcome in the Quarrel of my Princess, or I must die for her? If I escape the danger, I shall be the Messenger of Victory and Triumph; or if I die, I am certain she will lament me: Ah Chrisantes, what honour is this? Ha, Sir, answered I, what have you done? That which I ought, my dear friend, answered he, and that which you would have done if you had been in my case: But, Sir (said I to him) have you forgot that Artamenes is more than such a common Knight as he seems to be, but that he is Son to the King of Persia? No, no, my Governor (answered he) and because I know my birth is not common, therefore I must strive to do things above common capacities: But Sir (said I) why have you not obtained as much for Feraulas and me, as you have for yourself? Is it because you suspect our courages? Ah Crisantes (said he, embracing me) I will rather suspect my own; but it was not possible to be done; and if I had put in for so many, I might perhaps have been denied myself: But notwithstanding all his reasons, and though I was not possessed with such violent Passions as he was, yet I was very sorry he should be engaged in such a desperate Design; but there was no remedy: he had got himself Listed before I got knowledge of his intention. The choice of Combatants being made, the day of Combat comes on; Hostages were given on both sides; they search and view the Combatants, and Arms, according to the conditions of the Articles: Notice is sent unto the King of Pont of their readiness, who sent the same message back of his men. This selected Troop pass before the King, who at break of day offered a Sacrifice unto the Gods for their Prosperity. Arramenes was in hopes the Princess would have been with the King her Father when they parted, yet she not having a heart for it, stayed still in the Temple praying for them, so that he was deprived of that hope for consolation. As for myself Sir, I could not choose but drop some farewell tears at parting, since it was not now permitted to go with him as at other times, but now we were not suffered to assist him or be a witness of his Valour: He perceived our sorrows, and saw us all drooping: He looked upon us with as Gallant and Pleasant an aspect as ours was sad: Cheer up, said he to us, I will Conquer, I'll warrant you; and so laughed at us, I see you are but bad Fortune-tellers; as he spoke these words, they came to the Gate of the Town where the King stayed. Sir (said my Gallant Master to him, marching in the head of the Troop) I am going to make myself worthy of those honours which your Majesty hath done me, and to imitate the example of these brave men, which go with me: And I am going (answered the King) to prepare a Laurel for you and them, not doubting of good success, since Artamenes, and such men are to fight. Thy Glory is great, cried the hopeless Philidaspes, and thou shouldst not be alone, if I had as much of thy good fortune as I have of thy Valour: We should be very strong if we had you with us, answered Artamenes, but we will endeavour to vanquish without you: After these, two hundred Heroes which were devoted unto the Grandeur and tranquillity of Cappadocia were gone out of the Town, and the Gates were shut, we had no full information of that fierce encounter, wherefore I shall rehearse as much as we knew, and reserve the rest unto the end of my Story. When these two Troops came upon the Plain, they halted a little, and sent out a Party of four to discover whether their numbers were equal, and Arms according to Articles: All being found right, and an equal ground chosen, they advance without any noise or vapour, but in a silent terror: When they joined they used their Javelins, which did great execution, but much more upon the Cappadocians then the other side; at last falling to their Swords, and shielding themselves with their Bucklers, they begin to mix: Artamenes (as we had the knowledge of it afterwards) stepped a little before his fellows, and at one blow with his Sword did offer the first Victim of this Sanguine Sacrifice: His valour was not so happily seconded, for to speak in general the Ponteans had got much advantage of the Cappadocians; not but that they did behave themselves as gallantly as men could do, but that the other side proved more fortunate, and their wounds less mortal: Artamenes looking about, and perceiving that maugre his fury, the number of the Cappadocians did diminish, he fell into a strange rage, and acted such things as indeed can neither be imagined nor credited; and it might justly be said, that the event of Combat did absolutely depend upon him: he was not satisfied with offending his Enemy, and defending himself, but he also defended every one of his Companions, and received the blows which were aimed at his next fellow. In short, he did such Heroic acts, and wrought so many wonders as he was an absolute miracle of valour. Insomuch as one of his Enemies whose name was Artanus, began to think, that for all the advantage which his side had gotten, it would be hard to get the Victory, and therefore he began to think how he should save his own life, and sculk away; for (said he in himself, as afterwards we had knowledge) if my side prove stronger I can mix amongst them in the end of the fight without discovery; and if they perish than I shall save one by the shift, although I quit my Country and live unknown in some other Quarter of the world: Being thus basely resolved and during the confusion of Combat, he stole backward by degrees until he was quite behind all his own side, than he ran away some twenty paces off, and as if he had been killed fell down, then crept further and further off, insensibly by little and little, until he came unto a little Hill where he might be an invisible Spectator of the Combat: All the rest being busied in fight, minded him not; Mean while, the state of the Fight came to that pass, as Artamenes saw but fifteen of his side against forty enemies: I leave you to judge Sir, If the Pontean side did not hope to be Conquerors, and the Cappadocians fear defeat; yet since it was no boot to ask Quarter, but either to fight or die, which would make the most desperate become most valiant: Artamenes did so encourage them both by words and example, as he infused fresh life into his fellows: As for himself, every one thought him absolutely invulnerable, and said that a dismal fatality was tied to his Sword, which at every blow was dipped in the blood of his enemies. He had a blow for all: He followed those which fled or shrunk from him: he killed them which stood close to him: In short, he laid so about him, that from the forty which was against fifteen, he brought it to be ten to ten: This reasonable equality got him a new heart: Come on (said he to his fellows) let us finish the Victory which is almost already gotten; and indeed, considering how the case was altered, he might well say so, yet he knew not that three of his nine Companions were so wounded that they fell presently after; so that there remained but seven against ten: he himself was all the while so fortunate, as he had all this while received but one slight hurt on his side, by reason of his ill Cuirass; yet it had only razed the skin, so that it did not trouble him at all. This heart of a Lion, still fought with the same fury and strength that he did at first: He killed two of his ten enemies presently, the third held him play a long while, yet fell at last: As he turned himself about thinking to rejoice with his Companions, he found but one left, and three enemies upon him; he ran in all haste to relieve him, but he came to late, for his fellow fell just as he came in. Now Sir, the Illustrious Artamenes stood in need of all his courage, when after three hours' Combat, and that more sharp than ever battle, he found himself single against three enemies. Yet losing neither heart nor judgement, he fought with them after a quick, moving, and nimble manner, lest he should have his enemies on all sides him at once: and showed such sprightly agility that his three Enemies found they had enough on him, and felt his Sword at every Pass: When they pressed upon him, he in the turning of an eye was on the other side; and though all their blows did not miss, for blood ran down in many places, yet for all that his strength failed not. But he being resolved either to conquer or die, and his enemies being amazed to see one man resist them so long, they made at him all together at one. Artamenes shielding himself with his Buckler, charged violently through them all, and did separate one of them from the other two; He fell like a Fury upon this third man, and made him fall at his feet by running him through the body. This chance made the other two to droop, but gave new courage unto Artamenes; So that now altering that manner of fight which before he was compelled to take, when he had three against him: he begins to charge them with such precipitation as that one of them stumbling upon a Buckler which was under his feet, Artamenes not losing this opportunity fell upon the other, and killed him: presently: Now, cried out Artamenes (and flourishing his Sword as he was turning toward his last Antagonist;) Now must true Valour decide the Controversy, without mixture of Fortune, and where none can share in the glory of the Conqueror: In saying so, he fell like a Lion upon this last Adversary who received him with more Gallantry than useth to be in common spirits. Now has Artamenes but one to fight withal, but believe me a doughty one, whom Fortune it seems had reserved to make Artamenes pay dear for his Victory: These two Valiant Heroes, one of which was to carry away the Glory of the Day, took time to breathe and look about them: They saw themselves all blood, and amidst a field covered with dead men, so that Victory did not look with any charming countenance: and though both of them had hopes to be victorious, yet this dismal sight terrified them. Presently the Combat begins afresh, and with such fury as the like was never seen. He who fought with Artamenes was a man of good quality, as well as Artanus, who all this while lay lurking; and because he had seen my Master so thunder up his fellows, durst rise up to assist his Partner. Here Sir, may be admired the ways which the gods use, when they are resolved to save one; and it must be acknowledged their secrets are inscrutable; For the case standing thus, could any man believe that Artanus who was all this while hid, and fresh, and saw my Master wounded in many places, should not dare for all this to rise and help his fellow to conquer one man whose blood gushed out in so many places: but he thought it safer to stay there, and keep in a whole skin: Thus you see Artanus was not very valiant, but as I have heard since, undertook this Engagement with very ill will: This man, seeing Artamenes when he was single against three, could not be conquered, but brought it one to one; and who remembered that this last man who fought with my Master was his Corrival; and seeing how the case stood now, never thinking of his Country but of his revenge, his jealousy, and his love, he resolves to get the Victory, and never fight for it; for (said he to himself, as afterwards he confessed) this combat cannot end but one of these two at the least must die, since they fight with such resolution; and he which dies, will before his death give many wounds unto his enemy; If he which is enemy to my Country fall, I shall find my Rival in a condition easy to be vanquished; and if my Rival die, I shall as easily overcome the enemy of my Country, since he has lost so much blood as he can hardly stand, and who has shed so much of his enemies as he has left himself none; so that which side soever Fortune turns on, I will fight with the last man, and he shall die too, and I will live, and Triumph without danger. These were the thoughts of Artanus, who prayed equally for the death of both his two enemies: And truly it so fell out, as his unjust prayers wanted but a little of being heard; Artamenes and Pharnaces (for we knew afterwards that to be his Name) breathing a while as we said before, began a Combat, and such a one, as all ambitious desires of glory could not make more fierce: And Artamenes fearing lest his loss of so much blood should betray his courage; therefore he charged his enemy with all his force: so that Pharnaces, who saw there was but two ways to choose, either death or victory; had yet this consolation left him, that he thought Artanm his Rival and enemy was dead, since he saw him not fight: and this hope not to be any more crossed in his Love, begot a fresh desire of vanquishing; and moved him to fight so fiercely, that I heard my Master say, before he knew any thing of it, that he did imagine it to be Love which sustained his courage, and inflamed him with that Heroic heat. They fought yet a long time: Pharnaces wounded Artamenes in four places: Artamenes him in six: Their strength began to fail, and their bodies to reel, so that to finish the Combat sooner, they step nearer one another: Thrusting is all their play, not using their Bucklers, which they were hardly able to lift; They passed at one another both together, but hit differently; for Artamenes ran Pharnaces through the heart; and Pharnaces ran Artamenes through his thigh; and left his Sword in it. So that my Master, yet holding his Sword in his hand, and courageously drawing his enemies out of his thigh, holding both Swords in his hands, he cried out, I have got the victory: and presently after, being very weak, he fell: But here's the wonder Sir, for if Artamenes had not fallen as he did, he had died, because Artanus would have presently dispatched him: who (as we knew by his confession, and as you shall know in the sequel of the Story) as soon he perceived his Rival dead, did rise up, and prepared himself to fall upon my Master, whom he perceived to reel; but as soon as he saw him fall, he moved no further towards him, he cared not for going to see him take his last gasp, but went as fast as he could to tell the King of Pont he was the Conqueror: This man (if he be worthy of that name) was fuller of joy then the true Conqueror was; for he was full of glorious fancy; he had seen his Rival die, and hoped that this victory would certainly obtain him his Mistress, who was Sister unto the King of Pont: He could not imagine any thing could be a dor unto his felicity, unless his remorse of Conscience, and his unparallelled Cowardice. I know very well Sir, that I have not half particularised this great encounter; since it came unto light only by Artanus, when he was vanquished, and kept a Prisoner of War amongst us; and by my Master, whose Modesty would not suffer him to relate any thing wherein his own valour would be mentioned: Mean time, Artamenes is very weak, and continued so a long while: His sounding caused his blood to stop, so that when he recovered out of those fits, he got a little strength, and crawled up upon his knees with his Sword in his hand, as if he would look about, to see whether any would dispute with him about the victory: yet he saw nothing but broken Javelins, half Swords, bloody Bucklers and Men, who though dead, yet did retain grim faces of fury: on the one side he saw a Cappadocian, on the other a Pontean; on all sides, horror and blood in abundance: He tried often if he could walk, but found it impossible, by reason of his last wound, which had so weakened him, as he was not able to sustain himself: Mean time, He knew it was the duty of the Conqueror to carry news of the victory, since their Combat had no other witnesses; and since the fate of Arms had thus ordered him, he was not able, for it had left him only so much Life, as he was sensible of unimaginable pain: Alas, said he, What good will my victory do me; since when I am dead, they will not know I am victorious? Ciaxares will repent of the Honour which he did me: and Mandana, illustrious Mandana will perhaps think I died in the beginning of the Combat, before I had done her any considerable service: and that I have so poorly behaved myself, as Philidaspes would have carried it better; Yet oh ye Gods, ye Just Gods, ye know what I have done for my Princess, and how dear the victory does cost me: After this he looked round, but saw none; so that hot knowing what to do, and verily believing he should die before any could know of his conquest; he began gently to draw unto him as many Javelins, Swords, Helmets and Bucklers as he could reach, and piled all these Arms one upon another, as if he would build a Trophy; then he took a great silver Buckler, which once called the valiant Pharnaces Master, and dipping his finger in his own blood, which by reason of his motion began to run again, he writ upon it these vermilion Letters, 
 To Jupiter, the Guardian of Trophies. 
  
And placed it upon the top of this Glorious Pile of Arms, which he had erected near him. After which, weak and weary as he was with this Triumphant Labour, he did lie down a little, his left arm leaning upon his own Buckler, and holding his Sword in his right, as if he would defend the monument of victory which he had compiled: But notwithstanding this uneasy condition, all his thoughts (as he told me since) were bestowed upon his Princess: and the hopes he still had that she might come to know of his Conquest, made death appear very pleasant and welcome unto him; yet if he could but have that happiness to see her only once more, it was all that ever his heart could desire. Mean time, Artanus who was gone to publish his false Triumphs, had filled all the hearts of his party with Joy, especially the King of Pont, who though he did not much love Artanus, yet was very glad to receive this welcome news from him. The Hostages, which according to the Articles, remained with the King of Pont, were as much dejected; and certified the ●ad tidings unto their Master, to the end that Hostages on both sides might be returned, and both Princes meet in the place of Combat, with two thousand men apiece, according to agreement: Ciaxares and the Princess Mandana were in a sad perplexity; for seeing none of their party return, there was great likelihood things went not well on their side; but at last, being put out of doubt by return of the Hostages, that which at first was only a perplexity, becomes now an absolute sorrow: yet notwithstanding, because he would keep within the limits of Conditions, he goes unto the place of Combat, with that number of men as was agreed upon. The King of Pont did the like; but as for the Princess, she mourned extremely, and stayed in the Town. When the sad News was first brought unto the King, the first word she spoke was with tears in her eyes: Alas Sir (said she) poor Artamenes will never serve you more; the good service which he did us in saving your Life was but ill requited: As for Feraulas and myself Sir, I leave you to imagine how great our sorrows and our despairs were; and though we knew the News too too true, yet we would accompany the King on to the field, and pay our last service unto the body of our dearest Master: So we went with Ciaxares, who came upon the ground just at the same time with the King of Pont: But both parties were extremely amazed, when in coming near the place, they saw Artamenes, who having recovered a little strength, at the sight of the King for whom he had fought, was got up upon his knee, with his Sword in his hand, near the Trophy which he had erected, and seeming to put himself into a posture of defence, if any should oppose him: But amongst all them which were astonished, Artanus, who was waited upon as Triumpher was the most; especially when he heard Artamenes in a loud voice, say to Ciaxares, Sir the victory is yours, the gods by my hand have given it unto you: when the King of Pont heard this, he said, that it was himself to whom the victory belonged, since here was present one of his Combatants, who was not so much as once wounded, ready to justify it: Then said Artamenes, without doubt, he who told you that Lie, did run away from fight and death, and Triumphed before he had fought: for if he had been Conqueror, why did he not make an end of me? and hinder me from piling up this Trophy? I left thee for dead (answered the impudent Artanus,) for thou hadst done fight long before I came away: Thou base Imposture (said Artamenes to him) if I had not had more terrible enemies to fight with then thou, the victory which I have obtained, should not have cost me so dear; this valiant man whom thou seest dead at my feet (said he in showing him Pharnaces) was the last man of thy side which was in the field, and who only was in any hopes to overcome me: but as for thee, it seems, thou hast not got so much as a scratched finger in that field thus covered with dead men, and darest thou brag of victory? The Condition which thou art in (answered the malapert Artanus,) is nothing like that of a Conqueror. At these words, Artamenes being transported with anger, gathered up all his strength and strove to rise; then looking about for Artanus, with a face full of lovely fury, Come (said he to him, and holding his Sword in his hand) come on, thou which vauntest of victory without a wound; weak as I am, and cut in pieces, thus steeped in my own and enemy's blood, I will yet maintain thou art a base lying imposture; and that it is impossible thou durst ever fight: At these words he put himself into a fight condition; when the King of Phrygia who came with the King of Pont, being much taken with the magnanimity of Artamenes, cried out, that there was no Justice, a man who seemed so valiant, should in such a weak condition, undertake a new fight: My Master interrupting him, Sir said he, Perhaps I have not strength enough to live an hour, yet I have enough to fight with such a feeble fellow as he. Artanus was so confounded at all this, that inspite of his impudence, it was easy to perceive there was no truth in his words: However Ciaxares lighted from his Horse, and both Kings were on foot: Ciaxares embraced Artamenes, and commanded to sustain him, so that Feraulas and I stepped in to hold him up, against his will. Then said Ciaxares, although Artamenes were in a condition to fight, yet I know no reason why I should suffer him, there being no justice a Conqueror should hazard the victory a second time: Insomuch as this contest had like to have been put unto the worst extremity; and doubtless if the King of Pont had not worn his Arm in a Scarf, by reason of a wound received in the last fight, this disorder had not ended so well. The King of Phrygia, as one lest interested, did something qualify the anger of these two Princes, and told them that the business did require some time to examine the truth more exactly, but in any case not to do things over-rashly and inconsiderately: The two Kings, consenting unto this Proposition, retired: And Artamenes did earnestly desire that his Trophy might stand, and that Ciaxares would be pleased to leave a guard with it, which was consented unto. During these contests, there was a necessity of carrying away Artamenes: I sent unto the Town to get a Litter; the Princess, hearing of it, sent hers; for which my Master (as you may imagine Sir) thought himself not a little obliged: After the Princes had given orders for the Funeral of the Combatants upon the place of fight with all solemn Pomp, as well one side as the other, Feraulas and I did carry Artamenes into a house in the Town where we had lodged some days before; yet Ciaxares would not suffer it, but caused him to be carried into the Castle: All the King's Physicians and Surgeons were brought into the Chamber: After they had viewed his wounds, put in their first tents, and dressed them, they told the King that they hoped none of them were absolutely mortal, although two were very dangerous, so that by their care and his own strength of nature, a happy cure was hoped for: The Princess also that first night, sent many times to know in what state he was; and he understanding of it, though the messenger spoke very low, the Physicians having forbidden all noise, he called to the messenger, and would himself receive the Princess Compliment; after he had received it, feebly turning himself on one side, and opening the curtain of the bed, which was cloth of gold; Tell the Princess (said he) that I ask her pardon for fight her enemies so poorly, and bringing home a Victory which was yet disputable. If I die I hope her goodness will pardon me; and if I scape, I shall hope to repair the fault by some better service: Give her most hearty thanks for this honour of remembering me, and assure her that her goodness does not oblige an ungrateful soul. Mean while a Fever so violently seizes on him, as every one despaired of his life: I cannot tell how to express the sorrows and cares which Ciaxares and the Princess had of him, unless I shall tell you, that Ciaxares was as dear over him, as if Mandana had been sick; and Mandana also as if Ciaxares had been so wounded: But in a little time, the danger was over, and I could not choose but wonder at the humorous conceit of Fate, which made this Prince and Princess, who the other day offered Sacrifices of thanks for his death, now as forward to make Prayers for the preservation of his life. At length every one is well pleased to see that all their cares were not in vain; for after the twentieth day, his Physicians question not his perfect recovery, but promise a present cure: As soon as he was in a condition to be seen, both all the Court and Camp did visit him. Aribees, as great a Favourite as he was, came oft to tender his compliment: Philidaspes, in spite of his ambitious jealousies which the Valour of Artamenes procured him, failed not to pay civilities; and the King, who saw him every day, brought the Princess to congratulate his recovery: This wrought a wonderful effect in Artamenes: So that in few days after his wounds healed extraordinarily; such power, it seems, has the soul over the temper of the body. I will not trouble you Sir, in telling what were the entertainments at these two visits; it being easy to imagine, that the deserts and valour of Artamenes was the whole subject of their converse: But Sir, to return unto matters of War where we left: Be pleased to know, that whilst Artamenes was thus in cure, Ambassadors passed continually between the two Kings, to find out some expedient how to determine this difference, and bring it to Arbitrement. The King of Pont protracted it as long as he could: hoping that during this vacancy the King of Phrygia might perhaps be free from the designs of his enemies, and according to that he could conclude either Peace or War: but the matter continued so dubious, that it seemed the Gods did purposely ordain it so, to give Artamenes time of recovering his strength, to vindicate his Honour, and acquire more Glory. He left his chamber some two months after his first wounding, and went to present his thanks unto the King and Princess: afterwards he returned civil compliments unto all the Court and Camp, especially unto Philidaspes. By this time Sir, the two enemy Kings, having agreed upon Judges to hear and determine upon the reasons and arguments of both Parties impartially, They erected a very Magnificent Tent upon the Plain where the Combat was, and close by the Trophy which Artamenes had compiled: Four of the Cappadocian and Galatian Grandees, and as many of Pont and Bithynia, were constituted Judges of this famous Controversy, after they had all taken such oaths as were necessary to remove all suspicions of prejudice and partiality; also three stately Thrones equally erected, and under them a long seat covered with Purple, for the Judges of the Field, and all this handsomely prepared, the King of Pont and the King of Phrygia conducted Artanus to justify his pretended Victory: But though he had more spirit than valour, he went unto this Combat much against his will, though it was not to be a bloody one. Artamenes was also conducted by Ciaxares: Four thousand men of both sides ranged themselves, half upon the right hand, and half upon the left. These Kings taking their Places according to their Rank, and Judges sitting at their feet, Artamenes and Artanus stood at the Bar: silence was proclaimed: But Sir, I will not trouble myself to repeat verbatim the Speeches of these two Orators, I shall only tell you the issue of them; he which spoke first was Artanus, who though he was eloquent, and delivered it with a good grace, yet it made no impression upon the hearers: But on the contrary, the Speech of Artamenes having the Rhetoric of truth in it, and pronounced by a man of such an excellent Presence, gained the hearts of all his Auditors: His courage did so set off his Eloquence, and wrought so upon the King of Pont, that he could not choose but admire the Spirit as well as Valour of Artamenes. At these words the King of Hyrcania begun to speak and say, Wise Crisantes, I beseech you, do not deprive us of the happiness to know the sense of what was spoke in this glorious Court, in which the Cause depending was so uncommon, and where the Judges were subjects unto them whom they were to Judge, so by consequence must needs beget a curiosity in them who are ignorant of it. Since it is your pleasure Sir, replied Crisantes, I shall relate as much as my memory is capable of. The first which spoke, as I told you already, was Artanus, who after he had made low reverence unto the Kings and Judges, began his Speech to this effect:  

The Oration of Artanus.  
SInce it doth not reflect upon my Honour in particular, I will not stand to relate unto my Judges all that I did in the Combat wherein I was; It will suffice if I only show that it is my party which hath conquered, and who ought to enjoy the fruits of their Victory. I think there can no question be made, but if it be granted I was there, and fought, that then I did overcome: therefore it imports the justice of my Cause, to make it appear by strong and pregnant conjectures, since all the witnesses of my actions are dead, that though I was without wounds at the end of the Combat, yet it was the particular goodness of the gods unto me, and not my cowardice which preserved me. Imagine O ye, my Judges, what probability or likelihood there is, that I could fly or hide myself in such an open Plain, or that where the Combat was, where the danger was not less in flying, then in fight, since if it had been discovered by any of my enemies, I had infallibly been pursued; and if by my Friends, than I had exposed myself unto their Revenge, and all the Punishments which were due unto one who had basely deserted and betrayed his King and his Country: so should I have incensed against me, either my Friends, or my Enemies, or both; and so by consequence should have incurred greater danger than if I had remained fight: Moreover Sirs, you know that none were compelled to undertake this Combat, so that had I not found in myself heart good enough for it, I should never have engaged in the business: All Pont, nor all Bithynia; were not to fight; all the gallant men of either Nation were not employed in the encounter, so that if I had feared fight, I could have declined my Engagement without any more dishonour, than a hune dread thousand others, who did not engage themselves. I could have testified desires to have been one as others did, yet not have accepted of it more than they; and since fear is always witty, I could have invented excuses enough to have put it off if I should have been accepted: These Circumstances I conceive are sufficient to convince any reasonable and unbiased man that I did fight, and if it be granted that I fought, it must consequently follow that I got the Victory, since it belongs unto that man who remains last in a condition to take away the life of his Enemy; Now, every one knows how Artamenes was more unfortunate than I was: The Kings which hear me, did see how he was steeped in blood, all wounded, and so weak, that his Sword was more supported by his courage then strength, and therefore they would not permit him to sight it out in that condition: I confess, the great inequality between us, was extraordinary; and it might very well cause wonder, that of four hundred men which fought, there should remain but two living, the one whereof to be wounded in so many places, and the other so fresh and whole as if he had never fought; But the gods work miracles when they please: yet can it be that wounds should be taken for marks of Victory? If so, why hath our Tutors so carefully taught us to defend ourselves from blows? Why do we wear any Bucklers? but let us go to wars without defensive Arms: Wounds Sirs, are rather signs of weakness in the party who receives them, then of his great Courage; if men may brag of Victory because they are wounded, the weakest, the ill-favouredst, and most unfortunate have the advantage over the strong, handsome, and most happy men: In Duels, a little scratch is counted a great disadvantage: 'Tis true, his wounds are certain marks that he was in danger but it is as certain that his valour was not able to avoid them; Me thinks I hear some say that his wounds do argue for him; but if I understand their Language right, they plead his defeat and my Triumph, As for this Trophy which he raised in my absence; I conceive it was no difficult matter for him to do since he was alone; And it was a cunning devise of him, which shame of being overcome, and desire of honour made him invent; But after all this, Sirs, suppose that I did not fight, but that I fled in the beginning of the Combat, yet where is the great advantage which he pretends unto? It is true, that then I deserved punishment, but it is not true that he deserves to have the Victory, since he had the advantage of one man more on his side then his enemy had; and since the state of the Combat was brought unto that wherein you found him, it had been easy for that one man which was wanting to have killed him and got the Victory. Can he say himself that he saw me fly? if he can, I may chance doubt of the Victory, and hereafter trust more unto his eyes then my own valour; but since my Enemy can say nothing against me, only that he did not see me fight, and that I had received no wounds: I shall desire that his weak reasons may not be accepted of, but rather mine which have truth and weight in them: For it must be a consequent, that if I fought I conquered; and it is apparent that I fought, since I was accepted for a Combatant, and that of my voluntary disposition and desire. And that though I did not fight, yet cannot he be declared Conqueror because then he fought upon inequalities, and therefore his Conquest is not Lawful; Therefore Sirs defer no longer, but pronounce judgement; for I do not oppose against the glory of Artamenes: Let it be granted he did gallantly, and that his wounds are marks of courage and not weakness: I will only insist upon this, that there was not an enemy to oppose me, nor any who can speak a word in contradiction of what I say, unless that he did not see me fight; he (I say) who perhaps was so wounded at the beginning of the fight, that he could not see any thing, therefore I deserve judgement to be pronounced on my side; for if he did not see me, his eyes were full of blood, and therefore could not: But as for me who by the goodness of the Gods and my own valour did keep my sight, my blood and my strength; I saw him fight, and saw him wounded, and fall dead, close by this imaginary Trophy. So Sirs, having no more to say, but desire that the honour of my Country and my Triumph may be no longer deferred.   
As soon as Artanus had ended his Speech, there was heard a strange odd grumbling and muttering noise, without any acclamations amongst the Assembly: by which it might easily be guessed that the people disliked his Discourse. Artamenes told me since that never any thing in his life did so much trouble him as to endure this ignominy; yet he resolved to answer without any disturbing passion; and the weakness of this feeble fellow made him turn his anger into pity, and caused him to omit every thing that concerned his private injury, only so far as concerned the advantage of his cause and justification of his valour: After the murmur of the people ceased, and Artamenes had in a graceful demeanour done reverence to the Kings and Judges, the people pressing in silence to hear him, he began his answer thus  

The Oration of Artamenes.  
VIctory is so high a good, and Cowardice so base an evil, that I wonder not to find a man who would gladly enjoy the first without winning it, and shun the second though he do deserve it. Desire of glory and honour is born with us, and fear of infamy is found in the basest of men, most deserving it: Neither do I at all wonder that Artanus would triumph without fight: But indeed I wonder that considering he is a man of more wit than valour, he hath not shaped his lie more resemblant unto truth; and that he hath made no particular relation of his acts, which had been very requisite, before he can convince us of his coming off so without wounds: at least he should have told us who was the God which so preserved him: I am most certain the valour of one man could not preserve him so miraculously, but it must needs be some other Divinity which kept him invisible from my eyes, whenas after I only was left against three, I saw none about me but they; they (I say) who by their own fate rather than my force did fall before me: I am most certain that Artanus was none of those three; yet I know that the valiant Pharnaces was the last of them which remained, and sought with me stoutly, disputing the Victory; and who if he had been seconded by such a fresh unwounded man as Artanus, would easily have carried away the Victory from me, who was then so weak since he had almost done it without him; I know well enough that wounds are no infallible marks of Victory, but I know also that to boast of not being wounded is no proof of his fight: Methinks he should have at the least showed some of his Enemy's blood upon him though none of his own; but it seems Artanus went out as if to a Combat of simple Gallantry, where bloody Victory is forbidden: I confess I cannot say any thing particularly against him; I neither know when he fled, nor how he hid himself, or how he vanished: I only know that I did not see him fight, and this is sufficient to convince, that he did not overcome, since he left me alive. There are crimes of another nature, whereof those who are accused cannot be convinced without fight, as that such a one was seen kill a man in the corner of such a Wood, and pull him by the arms, and run his Sword through him; some such circumstance must be seen, or else those who do accuse do rather justify then condemn. But here in this case it is quite contrary, for in saying negatively that I did not see Artanus fight, is all that I can say against him: But I do affirmatively accuse him of a Crime of which he cannot justify himself, only in saying that he saw me, that he fought with me, and that he overcame me, which in my opinion will not be easy for him to do or prove. Then furthermore, though he dares not trust too much to the exploits which he hath performed; yet he dares say that because he fled, and I fought upon inequalities, therefore I must not have the Victory: But Sirs, where found he any Law to authorise this Discourse? At the beginning of a Combat, doubtless the number of Combatants ought to be equal, and their Arms also: but when once the Combat is begun, every one may lawfully take those advantages which Fortune presents, or which his Enemy suffers him; What though a Soldier go out of Combat either by death or otherwise? or if he fly, he is as well vanquished as if he had been killed or taken Prisoner? and he who doth oppose the Victory of his Enemy no way but by flying, or saves his life only by not exposing it, is most unworthy to have any share of Honour or Glory in the Victory: But if he do, than I confess, that Artanus having managed his life so thriftily, has some reason to say he deserves the Triumph better than I do, who indeed have not been so sparing of my blood as he: But this Victory did depend upon the death of all enemies; if so, than he cannot say the victory was his, since all these Kings and Judges who hear me, did find me alive with Arms in my hand, ready to defend my right, against him or any who opposed. Now Sirs, to make it appear that I neither fear his force nor his fortune, although he seems invulnerable, in a Combat where so many gallant men lost their lives; ay most humbly desire you to permit me Combat with him in Lists, and in the presence of those Kings who hear me: for if you will be pleased to grant me this Petition, which he never so much as mentioned, and which in justice you cannot deny me, I will promise you he shall vanish no more out of my sight, but I will render you a better account of him. I know well that in some respects it is an injury unto the Justice of my Cause, and to the Title of that most illustrious King whose interest I maintain to put it unto a second hazard: But since upon the whole matter, there is only his Negative, and my Affirmative, without other testimonies which does appear before you Judges, who can never be convinced of the truth, either by the words of Artanus or mine, but only by our Actions; therefore I conceive there is no other way to clear the matter in question: and to tell you truth, I care not for preserving that by my eloquence, which (without canity be it spoken) I have got by my valour: The Glory of this Victory is too great to cost the valiant Artanus not one little drop of blood; He must Sirs, he must either confess the truth before all you who hear us, or else must have the Life of Artamenes: and since two hundred men were not able to give him one scratch, he needs not fear one single man, and one who is so much weakened by his wounds as he is, yet one whom I assure you he shall not vanquish without Honour: Therefore certainly, if he did fight before, he will not fear to fight now. I ask no more advantage for my Cause, O ye Judges; and you cannot pronounce any other judgement but with a trembling accent; and do what you can any other way, one side will complain: whereas, if I shall make you understand the truth from Artanus his own mouth, than you may boldly give Sentence, without any fear of injustice, or that either side will complain of you: Deny me not therefore, I conjure you, since I desire nothing but what is most just and reasonable: Moreover, that Artanus may oppose this my desire, by hopes of avoiding Combat, though if Justice be granted unto me, he cannot avoid it: therefore I advise him to hope for Pardon, by confessing his fault, and ingeniously tell us, that he thought it better to steal a victory, then to run a hazard for it. But if he will dispute the business, and stand upon terms of Justification, than this gallant Man must resolve upon this course which I desire, and which I beseech you to ordain. I freely give him his choice of Arms: and promise this further, that though he fall into my power I will not kill him, provided he will confess the truth, and be more ingenuous under my feet, than he is before this majestical Tribunal: It is in your Power to pronounce this just Sentence, which I expect from you, it being the only way to make that truth appear which I affirm.   
Artamenes had no sooner ended his Speech, but all the people made a great shout, much different from that which they made at the end of Artanus his Oration, for then there was nothing heard but a hollow murmuring: but this was lively acclamations and applauds which seemed to tell the Kings and the Judges, that Artamenes must have the Victory: His very enemies could not choose but commend him, so charming is virtue, and so powerful is truth. Artanus would have answered in opposition of Combat, but none would hear him. None of the Kings did like of this Proposition which Artamenes made, for Ciaxares was unwilling to hazard again the life of so excellent a man: and the King of Pont, not well satisfied, that his cause should depend upon the hands of Artanus, whom he had no great good opinion of. Mean while, the Judges rise, and consult in private: During which interval, Philidaspes, who was present at all the passages, and was driven into absolute despair by seeing new honours every day heaped upon Artamenes, addressed himself unto Ciaxares, and moved him to take into his consideration the small time since Artamenes left keeping his bed, and his chamber, therefore he humbly desired him to let him have the honour of fight with Artanus, in case the Judges permitted a second Combat, which favour would eternally oblige him. Philidaspes spoke not so low, but Artamenes jealously observed him, and suspected such a thing, and fearing lest he should obtain his desire, he addressed himself and said, Sir, do not hearken unto Philidaspes, since what he desires is equally injurious both unto his Honour and mine; How know you that, replied the young stranger? I know (replied Artamenes) that such a man as Philidaspes ought not to fight with a coward, unless he were forced to it as I am; and it is a wrong done unto myself, to think that I have need of all my strength to vanquish such an enemy as he is. Although Artanus were Artamenes, replied Philidaspes roughly, I would desire as much. And though Artanus were Philidaspes (replied my Master) I would not yield my place unto another: Ciaxares seeing them so high in contest, and fearing it might proceed further, did embrace them both; and commending their courages and zeal, caused them to embrace each other: He told Philidaspes that he was not to be judge in his own cause, therefore could not satisfy him; and he told Artamenes, that he had no reason to have an ill opinion of Philidaspes for his offer: He commanded them both to expect the sentence of the Judges patiently. The Judges were in long Consultations before they could resolve what sentence to pronounce: For though every one did verily think that Artanus had played the villain, yet notwithstanding he so peremptorily denying it, and there being no witness to prove it, they were much entangled in their judgements. Those of Ciaxares his side could not give sentence against their Prince, for all they which knew Artamenes could not doubt but he had Vanquished; and those of the King of Pont's side, although they did believe the same, yet durst not give sentence against their Prince, because their belief was grounded only upon conjectures. So that after a full Consideration of the whole matter, they resolved upon Combat; and gave Sentence, That he who could cause his enemy to confess he was Vanquished, should be esteemed victorious: And if it should so hap that his enemy should die without confession, the matter should be interpreted advantageously for him who killed him: That the Duel should be in close Lists, as Artamenes desired it, and in the presence of both enemy Kings. No sooner was this sentence pronounced, but Artamenes was all Joy, and thanked the Judges after such a manner as did presage Victory, but so did not Artanus, who went along grumbling against the Judges and the King his Master; so that (as we came to know afterwards) this Prince being of a gallant disposition, did treat him but scurvily, and told him sharply, that if he had really overcome before, he might overcome again; but if he had played the part of a base coward, as he began to suspect him, than he should be very glad to see him punished by the hand of Artamenes: adding further, that he should not grieve so much for the loss of Cerasia, as he should rejoice at his ruin, and that the one would be a Cordial against the other. After all, this Prince caused him to be diligently watched, lest this coward should play him a second prank, and avoid Combat by slight, as doubtless he had done, if he could have found a handsome opportunity. As for Ciaxares, he was sorry for nothing, but that he was to hazard the life of such an illustrious man, and engage him in fresh danger, since the veriest coward might by a misfortunate hit, chance to wound the bravest man in the world. Mean while, the time of Combat being limited to be within four days, every one retreats unto the Towns in which the Kings had encamped their several Armies. Ciaxares was no sooner in the Town of Anisa, but he went unto the Princess chamber, waited upon by Aribees, Artamenes, Philidaspes and many others. He no sooner acquainted her with what was resolved upon, but she presently said, What Sir, is it just that he should be put to overcome an enemy twice? Is not one drop of Artamenes blood more worth than the conquest of Cerasia? For my part (added she, and held her hand before her face to hide her blushing) I confess my weakness, and cannot hear you talk of Combats and fights, without fear and trembling, especially when they reflect upon the Life of him who has preserved yours Sir. Madam (interrupted Artamenes) you infinitely honour me, in taking any care of my life, which could never be better exposed then in the King's service: But Madam, never fear me in this Combat, rather be sorry that I have so weak and base an enemy to fight withal. The fault is not in Philidaspes Madam (said Aribees unto the Princess) that Artamenes is exposed unto this danger, since he hath endeavoured all he could to exempt him, and fight in his room; It is very true Madam (seconded Philidaspes) that I assumed the boldness to Petition the King for it, but he did not think me worthy of that honour. That's not the reason (answered Ciaxares) I did not deny you because I thought you were unworthy, but because I thought it unjust. Then added my Master, This is another reason, Sir, because Artamenes would not have suffered him, for he never uses to yield his place unto another: The King who was afraid lest these two Gallant strangers should fall out upon it, broke off discourse and left the Princesses, carrying with him all them which followed him unto Mandana. For all these passages, Love was predominate in Artamenes, so that he never was with the Princess but he observed her with a most circumspect eye: When he was in his chamber with only Feraulas and me, he asked us what we thought of that blush which appeared in the face of Mandana, when she talked of him, and of her dislike that he should fight any more? Was it (said he to us) only an effect of her natural, sweet and calm disposition which is antipathious unto War? or was it, think you, the service which I have done her Father that has something engaged her soul in some disposition not to hate me? But alas, said he presently, (not giving us leave to answer) Was it not that she was ashamed, and repent of those obliging words which she spoke in my behalf? Is it not an infallible sign that her tongue did contradict her heart? I cannot absolutely tell what to think of that lovely blush which looked so like Divinity, and charmed my soul anew? Flatter me not dear Feraulas (said he) but tell me truly, What do you think of it? and how should I interpret it? Sir, (said he to him) I cannot conceive any thing by it, but what makes for your advantage; for admit it to be but an effect of pity, yet it will be a good ground for you to build your hopes upon, and you may more easily work upon her soul, when she shall be acquainted with those Passions which you endure for her sake: Ah Feraulas (cried he out) When will that be? How long before I must make it known unto her? Cyrus dares not peep out of his Tomb to tell her; and Artamenes who appears to be no more than a bare simple Knight, dare he entertain so rash a thought, without extravagant folly? To tell you truth Sir, Artamenes his mind ran more upon the Princess then upon Artanus; not but that he thought upon the Combat with as much care and memory as was fitting but that when he thought upon any thing whatsoever, still there was a mixture of Mandana in it: And Love which works such wonders, bestowed this privilege upon him, that he was able to discourse of War, of business, of news, of compliments, and every thing, without ever omitting the dear thoughts of his Princess. Mean while, the day of Combat comes on, and he must go to take his leave of her, with such jolly looks, as gave assurance of Triumph. Madam (said he) I come to beg some Arms of you, wherewith to fight Artanus: I had rather (answered she most sweetly, but more sad than usual) find out a way to make you invincible: You may do it easily Madam (said he) if you do me but the honour to accept favourably of those services which I shall do for the King and you; and doing me only the favour, of wishing me Victory. For if I be so happy, though Artanus were the Valour of the world (as heaven knows he is not) I should most undoubtedly vanquish him. If there want nothing but acknowledgement of your services (replied the Princess) and my prayers to make you triumph, go Artamenes, go, and fear not being vanquished. After this, the Princess, as if she were weary of this kind of discourse, bade him farewell in a most sweet and obliging manner; and Artamenes went towards the King, who was ready to go unto this Combat: Ciaxares was followed only with two thousand men as before: The Kings of Pont and Phrygia met also with the like number in the same Plain and Place where the Judges pronounced Sentence, that was close by the Trophy of Artamenes. There they railed out a piece of ground which was longer than wide, and of sufficient bigness for a Combat. Artanus who thought his Sword too much, would fight with no other offensive Arms; always imagining that the fewer Arms his enemy had, the less should he be exposed unto them: Either of them one Sword and one Buckler was all their Arms. At the two ends of the Lists there was two Scaffolds erected for the enemy Kings: and at either side another for the Judges. The four thousand Soldiers were ranked some behind the Scaffolds, some on the sides of the Lists, all remaining under their own Colours, not mixing, but so placed that all might see. At both ends of the Lists there was two entrances for the two Combatants, into which Artamenes and Artanus entered at one time, and presaged the event of the Combat at the first, by their different Aspects: Artanus would fight on horse back, having more confidence in his strength and nimbleness, then in the courage and valour of him which rid him. But he knew not that the more vigorous and fierce his Horse was, the less was he serviceable unto that Rider who was afraid to ride him, or could not guide him: Artanus then appeared in most magnificent Arms, and upon a milk white Horse, so fine, so well made, and so sprightly, that at first he invited all to look upon him: he had a lively and a proud look, pawing with his foot, shaking his main, foaming at his mouth, and violently neighing, he began his carrear: he seemed impatient to carry his Master unto his enemy. But Sir, although the Horse of Artanus did win the admiration of all men, yet the ill-favoured posture of him who rid him desired the pity of all spectators: the least motion of the Horse shook him almost out of the saddle: and one might plainly perceive, all his endeavours were to keep him from his enemy, as if he were afraid to be too soon assaulted. As for Artamenes, he appeared otherwise: for though he rid upon a very handsome black Horse, yet this day he took but very common Arms, as being ashamed to fight with so base an enemy. He carried his body boldly, and his countenance confidently; he sat his Horse gracefully, and was so dexterous a Master of him, that it was easy to perceive he knew how to command him: All such Ceremonies as are commonly used upon the like occasions being ended, and the signal by Trumpets no sooner given, but putting on his Horse to gallop, he made towards Artanus with mighty fury: he did so little fear his feeble enemy, that he almost neglected the use of his Buckler: As for Artanus he knew not at all what he did: for giving his Horse too much bridle, then pulling him in too suddenly, one great bound bounced him all on one side; then this Horse shaking his head fiercely, and half rearing upright, he suddenly runs away with his rider to the other end of the lists, before Artamenes could salute him with one blow; but Artamenes turning his Horse, he followed him, and fell upon him before he was well got into the Saddle again: then he paid the debt he owed him, and gave him such a blow with his sword upon the right shoulder, that blood ran down his gallant suit of Arms; Artamenes gave him another: Artanus all this while kept himself upon his posture of Defence, but durst not strike so terrible an enemy, lest he should further provoke him, always hoping that Artamenes his Horse would tyre before his, or that some accident or other would chance to take pity and relieve him: Mean while Artamenes was much angered, for he could kill him when he pleased; but that Victory would not please him: for he desired to satisfy the world out of Artanus his mouth concerning the truth of the whole matter, he fought and spared him also: Notwithstanding this advantage which Artamenes gave him, yet this wretch durst never turn one blow back! he was hurt in four several places, not once daring to lift up his Sword against my Master: His Horse being ashamed to bear so base a burden, would have thrown him; at last, my Master extremely disdaining such a coward, gave him a lusty blow with the back of his Sword, which made him tumble upon the neck of his Horse, who thereupon took that opportunity to throw him half dead upon the ground; his Helmet falling off his head, his Sword out of his hand; and he held fast unto nothing but his Buckler, of which he always made more use than any other Arms. Artamenes lighted presently from his Horse, and running at him with his Sword lifted up, Confess thou base enemy (said he to him) all the truth of my first Victory? I'll confess all answered this wretched coward, (covering himself with his Buckler) so you will spare my life; There is so little honour in taking it from thee (answered my Master, holding his foot upon his neck) that I will grant it: But be sure thou tellest no more lies before the Judges: If thou dost not tell all the whole truth, there's nothing shall save thee from the fury of immediate Revenge. The Judges descending from the Scaffold went into the Lists towards Artamenes, who seeing them coming, Come, said he to them, Come and hear the truth from the mouth of an Enemy. Speak it then, said he to him, if thou wilt live, and defer no longer the vindication of my honour: Then the wretched Artanus being moved with remorse, but much more with fear of death; told in few words the whole truth of the Story: saying only by way of excuse, that when he perceived the manner of the fight, and that the victory was in great dispute, that in all probability all on their side would be lost, therefore he thought to have that by cunning which he could not by valour: In conclusion, he confessed that Artamenes was left but fifteen against forty, that he brought it to be ten to ten; afterwards seven to ten; after that himself to against three; presently himself against two; and at last himself against Pharnaces only: In short, he confessed all he knew, and feared death, much more than infamy. And truly, since he was so pitifully baffled, he needed not to fear the loss of any more honour, having lost so much already, that it was impossible for him to lose more: The Judges, hearing the confession of Artanus, did entreat my Master to content himself with this acknowledgement, and to let him rise and live: I will let him rise and live, answered Artamenes, upon condition he will live in honour, and use to play such base tricks no more. The Judges than were in no more controversy, but all agreed that my Master was victorious: Declaring Cerasia to belong unto the King of Cappadocia, and ordained that the Trophy which Artamenes had piled up should be hereafter built in earnest unto the honour of Artamenes: The King of Pont did receive this news like a Prince both of courage and wisdom, and he witnessed more resentment of sorrow for the vile action of Artanus, then for the loss of Cerasia: As for Ciaxares he received Artamenes with extraordinary joy, which doubtless was no welcome news ●nto Aribees and Philidaspes who were both present: As for Artanus, since he was of great quality, some of his kindred took him off, and had care of him, notwithstanding the King's anger: But the King told them, that though they did cure him of his wounds, yet he would never look upon him again. When the Judges of both sides had acquainted their Masters the Kings with their judgements, the two enemy Kings, and the King of Phrygia did meet, and saluted one another the second time; The King of Pont told Ciaxares, that he would return unto his Army, and the next day withdraw it off from before Cerasia, to the end he might take possession of it; He told the King of Cappadocia, in conclusion, that he had more reason to esteem himself happy in having the friendship of such a man as Artamenes, then in recovery of the Town; and for his part, he would with all his heart give half his Kingdom, to have but one Soldier so valiant as he: Artamenes was close by Ciaxares when this compliment passed, who returned an answer full of modest civility, though all which come from a Lover of Mandana was nothing pleasant to him: After this, the Kings departed, Ciaxares to Anisa: All the people came out of the Town to meet him: the whole Army was drawn up into Battalions: The Princess herself being advertised of all passages by a man whom the King had speedily dispatched with intelligence, met the King just at the gate of the Castle, where Ciaxares presented Artamenes unto her, whom she received with abundance of joy; But as she did express her joy that he was come off so safe from so dangerous an encounter, Call it not so Madam, I beseech you (said he to her, and blushing) do not wrong me so much as to believe I could think myself exposed unto any danger in this Combat. The honour which you were pleased to do me, in promising your prayers for victory, had such an operation, as I became victorious without any danger. I know not (answered the Princess) whether you vanquished without danger; but I am certain you did not vanquish without honour: Many other Compliments passed which would be too long to relate; and Ciaxares to recompense in some manner the services of Artamenes, bestowed upon him, not only the Government of Cerasia which he had conquered, and of which he thought to take possession the day after; But the government of Anisa also, with all the Country about it, it being vacant by the death of a former Governor. It is but just, said the King, that Artamenes should enjoy that which he hath got, and that which I had lost but for him. Aribees' durst not directly oppose this great benefit which the King had conferred upon Artamenes, because his services did well deserve as much; for he had performed absolute miracles in the Battle: He had saved the King's life, he had brought the enemy unto many disadvantages: He did prodigiously vanquish in Combat of two hundred, and had concluded a General Peace by one particular Victory. But although Aribees did not absolutely oppose this great recompense; yet he thought Artamenes did eclipse him and Philidaspes: he told the King in a low voice, that he apprehended much danger by trusting those two places in the hands of a Stranger; and that it were better to recompense Artamenes by some other places in the midst of the Country, then by those Frontier Towns: yet say or do what he could, the King would not alter his resolution: It was his pleasure also to observe the sentence of the Judges, and to erect an everlasting Monument unto the glory of Artamenes in the place where he himself had compiled the Trophies: And commanded the Architectures to place all those Trophies upon a magnificent Pillar of Marble, which should rise a great height with a glorious Inscription upon it: this was in a little time after finished, notwithstanding the continuance of the war: for Sir, you must know that the King of Pont did very punctually keep promise, and retired from Cerasia: But you must know also, that the Inhabitants of this Town did so extremely love this Prince, under whose Government they had lived so long: and had been so ill used by the last Kings of Cappadocia under whom they once lived, that the King of Pont do what he could, was not able to persuade them to open their Gates unto his Enemy: yet he thought that when he was gone from them they would then change their Resolution, so that he would not send any thing of it unto Ciaxares, lest it should incense him against them, but retreated himself as he was obliged, leaving only one Captain with five hundred men with Orders to remain there, and deliver up the place unto those whom the King of Cappadocia should send to receive it. On the other side, Ciaxares being pleased to favour Artamenes in all things, told him very graciously, that he would have him go take possession of his own Conquest in the head of six thousand men: But when Artamenes came there, he much wondered to find the Gates shut, and all the walls man'd with Soldiers to defend it and themselves, if any would assault it; he thought it strange that he should be forced to storm it; yet he would know what the people would say before he would fall on: He therefore commanded his Troops to keep out of Arrow-shot, and sent to summon the Town, commanding the Inhabitants to open their Gates, according to the conditions with the King of Pont: But they being fully resolved not to change Masters, took up Arms, and disarmed those five hundred Soldiers which the King of Pont had left: then they prepared a Declaration, and threw it over the walls unto the Herald which spoke unto them, telling him, that Ciaxares might there see in writing their reasons why they defended the Town against him; and perhaps might approve of them; also bidding him be gone presently, else they would make him; for they were resolved to defend themselves though the King of Pont had forsaken them: Artamenes having read the Manifesto, stood astonished, not only at the handsome composure of it, but because he saw that never were Subjects so faithful unto their Prince as these: I do not well remember the whole contents of it, but I have not forgot that it ended in these words.  
If we were persuaded that we were your lawful Subjects, we would do the same unto the King of Pont, which now we do unto you; But as on the contrary we take ourselves to be his, we will die a thousand deaths rather than receive any other Master: We know, that he hath abandoned us, but we know withal that he did not abandon us without sorrow; so that we are resolved to keep it for him whether he will or no, and as the case stands be rather Rebeis unto him then change Masters: If we can resist you, we shall rejoice and be happy: If we perish in resisting you, death will free us from all servitude: Whatsoever befalls us we will not change our King and government: If you be generous, and well advised (as we hope you will be) you will rather recompense then punish us for our fidelity: and you may be glad that we have given so good an example of fidelity unto your Subjects, which may teach them to be as faithful unto yourself when there is occasion for it.  
Artamenes finding the people to be of Heroic dispositions, would not storm the Town without further order, he sent me unto Ciaxares, to carry this Manifesto, and receive his Commands, staying himself in the head of his Regiments, and facing Cerasia. The King doubtless was much moved at this event; and Aribees who had a cunning wit did believe that the people had some other ground for their action, than their pure affections unto their Prince, and imagined that their Prince did prompt them to it: So that since the continuance did redound unto his private advantage, he did exasperate the King as much as possible he could: Nevertheless (as we came to the knowledge of it afterwards) the only cause which moved the Cerastians' unto this generous resolution, was only their affection unto their King, and dislike of the Cappadocians. Ciaxares sent to the King of Pont to complain of the inhabitants, to tax him with breach of Covenant; and without any more loss of time, he caused his Army to advance against the Town, and to enter it any manner of way whatsoever. The King ordained Artamenes his Lieutenant General; this struck sorrow and anger to the very heart of Philidaspes, when he considered that now he was subordinate unto the only man of all the world, which was an obstacle unto his Glory, and consequently unto his main design. The Princess was much troubled at the accident: Philidaspes more than she: Ciaxares is restless: The King of Pont is both glad and sad: The King of Phrygia is angry: Aribees is well pleased; and Artamenes is neither moved with one Passion or other, but keeps a medium between both, since he saw his love was not concerned in it, and that was the only thing which could move him either to joy or sorrow. The King of Pont answered those whom Ciaxares sent unto him, that he was very sorry and much offended that the Cerasians did not obey him: and that for his part, he had done all he could: for all he could do was to command them to set open their Gates. But (said he to the Ambassadors) I do not think myself obliged to go and besiege them or to fight against those who out of their extreme affection to me, do cast off obedience. It is sufficient that I will not aid them: Besides, they are now none of my subjects, they are the subjects of Ciaxares, and it belongs to him to order them: Yet I do, indeed, think myself bound to entreat them, but not rigorously to compel them. This Prince, thus dismissing the Ambassadors of Ciaxares, sent one of his own Heralds with them, whom the King of Cappadocia caused to be conducted unto the Walls of Cerasia, for to summon them to surrender the Town: But they would not obey, and bid him tell his Master, that though he had cruelly forsaken them, yet they preferred death before subjection unto the King of Galatia. Ciaxares seeing their constant resolution, did commend them for it in his heart, yet he plotted how to assault them; to that end he held a Council of War, the result of which was, To carry this Town by force. In order to which, he sat down before it: Quarters are chosen: Lines are drawn: Trenches are cast up: Ladders and other Engines are prepared. Mean while, Philidaspes, whom we did not believe to be of such an ambitious spirit, was full of restless envy: It did appear so visible in his eyes, that all the world took notice of it. He thought, that if he did not come off very eminently at this siege, he should come infinitely short of Artamenes, who had carried it so highly; and so by consequence his great design would be ruined: He also thought what gallant things soever he did in this expedition where Artamenes was appointed Governor, they would all redound unto his advantage. Neither was the King of Pont without his share of vexation in mind; for his Mandana stuck in it; and this affection of the people towards him, moved much tenderness in him towards them again. So that questionless had not the Lydian War which the King of Phrygia feared, diverted him, he would have been willing to begin that War which he had but newly ended. But Sir, it was not long before he had what he wished for; because the King of Phrygia newly received some intelligence, that the King of Lydia was not in condition for War, a great part of his own subjects being lately revolted. This news begot new resentments in the mind of the King of Pont: But whilst he was deliberating what was best to be done; Ciaxares caused Cerasia to be stormed: Artamenes did things above admiration, and Philidaspes did no less. I will not Sir stand to describe exactly all the particularities of this siege; having many things of greater importance to rebate: Let me tell you only in few words, that the inhabitants of Cerasia did desperately defend themselves, and sound enough for the valour of Artamenes and Philidaspes to work 〈◊〉 en; and I have since heard my Master say, that he never found such stout resistance as from them: nor did he ever fight more against the hair of his disposition: for considering the courage 〈◊〉 mind of the men, and their incomparable fidelity, it could not choose but 〈◊〉 him that his valour should be employed against such men: They maintained the Town against four Assaults, with Gallantry above example: They saw all their Gates broken down, and a great part of their Walls demolished with martial Engines, before they would render themselves: And being entrenched towards the highest part of the Town, they still found us work enough. Philidaspes helped not a little in this siege, and both Artamenes and he did so highly esteem of one another, that it may well be said, valour did never beget so much admiration, and so little love. But in conclusion, after these unfortunate inhabitants had a long time very stoutly resisted, they were compelled to yield: Yet before they were the last time assaulted, Artamenes did beseech the King that he might send a summons unto them once more, with assurance of a general pardon, if they would render themselves, and resist no more, which Ciaxares consented unto. At that very instant, there arrived an Ambassador from the King of Pont, to entreat the King he would be pleased to pardon the inhabitants of this Town, when he had vanquished them, and not to die his victory too deep in blood: He presently returned this answer, that he would pardon any but Rebels. But this last summons which was sent into the Town returned in vain, and the desperate men made answer, that Let things go as they would, they had rather die gloriously, then abandon their King, as he had them, nor would they ever have any other Master, and by consequence could desire nothing but death, since there was no other way to get their Liberty. Ciaxares finding their obstinacy, did not only give orders to Assault them, and so take them, but do what Artamenes could, he gave orders also to put them all to the Sword: The loss of six thousand men at this siege was it which most incensed him. As for Philidaspes, never man fought better than at this last Assault: For seeing it was ordered that this miserable Town should be destroyed, he helped forward with it as he could; for it was some satisfaction unto his ambitious jealousy, to see that Town ruined whereof Artamenes was to be Governor: But my Master saved it as much as possible, and at the end of the Combat, did force the King to grant life unto a few which remained, who were constrained to receive it against their wills. This sad Victory was very happily gotten, both for Artamenes and Philidaspes, neither of them having received but one slight hurt. Mean while, both love and anger disturbed the King of Pont's mind: Now he only wants a handsome pretence to begin a War: He sends to Ciaxares, and much complains of his cruelty towards the Cerasians: Ciaxares answers, that those whom he had punished were his subjects, and such subjects as rebelled against him more than once; of whom he was not bound to render an account unto any. The King of Pont was pretty well satisfied with this tart answer, because it furnished him with a slight occasion of quarrel: He sends back to Ciaxares, and tells him, that he would hold Alliance no longer with a Prince, who used his own subjects so scurvily, and therefore would from hence forward declare himself an enemy. Ciaxares, for all this, knew that he had an infallible expedient to make peace when he pleased, such an one as would make him throw his Arms down presently, and therefore he never complained against his procedure: You know Sir, that this expedient, which the King of Cappadocia did mean, was the marriage of the Princess Mandana unto him. But yet notwithstanding Ciaxares received this message very sowrly, and answered him with as much tartness as the Embassy was full of Injustice. Now see how things are more embroiled then before: Ciaxares, whose Army was much weakened, retreated towards Anisa, after he had burnt the Town of Cerasia, as well to prevent the King of Pont from ever repairing it, as because he would not be put to the necessity of leaving a Garrison in it, as also to make it a terrible example of his revenge. Artamenes, lest the King of Pont should think that this retreat proceeded from any fear, he did entreat Ciaxares that he might stay about Cerasia with ten thousand Foot, and four thousand Horse, to observe the motions of the enemy; and to let him see, that there was no fear of him. Mean while, the King might Recrute his Army out of those Garrisons and Places which were near him, he might quickly make new Levies: and with those Troops which he carried away with him, he might appease that Tumult which was lately risen, which was not of any deep consideration. The King approving of Artamenes his Proposition, consented unto it, and appointed those Troops which were to remain under conduct of my Master Observe here Sir, the strange and fantastical effects which violent Passions do produce in that soul which is possessed with them: Philidaspes who was absolutely desperate to be put upon such a necessity, that he must obey Artamenes as his Lieutenant General, and who for many reasons was to follow the King unto Anisa, whither he was now upon return: yet notwithstanding all those occasions which required him to be about Ciaxares, and notwithstanding those secret grudges to be under command of Artamenes, he did for all that solicit Ciaxares to be one of those which should be with Artamenes; and was so very earnest that he obtained his desire; The Reason of his desire was, because it was an intolerable vexation of soul unto him, to see Artamenes every day purchase new glories and honours, and he no partaker with him; and because he was absolutely resolved to be his inveterate Rival in point of Ambition. The King of Pont understanding that his enemy's Army was divided, advanced immediately with all his Forces towards Artamenes; His Army consisted of five and twenty thousand men: with them he resolved to swallow up Artamenes, or at least make him retreat to his Master at Anisa: But this inequality of number could not make Artamenes budge a bit: I took the boldness to tell him that there was too much hazard in the Adventure; but he answered me that there was more hazard if he declined Combat; since by that he should lose himself in the esteem of his Princess; No No Chrisantes, said he, the designs of my soul are all extraordinary and above common reach: To gain a battle upon equal terms, is the common glory and fortune of every day, which any paltry valour may chance to stumble upon: But to get a battle when in all likelihoods it is quite lost, this is that which Artamenes must do if he will hope to preserve himself in Mandana's favour; and Artamenes must suffer as Artamenes, or else oblige her so that she will not hate Cyrus: In conclusion Sir, He called a Council of war; But though Philidaspes was of Artamenes his opinion and would fight it, because he would not seem less bold than Artamenes, yet all the rest of the Captains declined it: But however at this time prudence must give place unto valour. Notwithstanding Artamenes was as wary as he could, He possessed himself of all the advantages which the place would afford, and bestirred himself with as much vigilance and prudence as the greatest Captain in the world could do. The King of Phrygia and the King of Pont did often fall into the Quarter's o● Artamenes, but were always beaten off with loss: and in what Quarter soever they lighted, they always found my Master in the head, they always were repulsed, and found lam●●inoble. These two Kings did set a high value upon him (as we afterwards came to know) for they feared Claxares more by reason of him then by reason of all his power besides, whether considering him as the Son of the King of Medes, or as King of Cappadocia and Calatia: But Sir, to make a short Relation; It may truly be said that Artamenes gave and got three little Battles in a short time: In the first he undertook a single Combat with the King of Pont, and gave him a little hurt, and had the better of that Bout. In the second the matter was more dubious, Philidaspes did miraculously, and attempted to take the King of Phrygia Prisoner: But in the third there happened a chance unto Artamenes, which saved his life afterwards, as I shall tell you in the sequel of my Discourse, and indeed it doth deserve your knowledge. Then Sir, I shall tell you, that it was always the custom of Artamenes in all fights that ever he was in, to seek out as much as possible the principal Commanders of the Enemy: He laboured with all diligence to find out and fight with the King of Pont, as he was the King-Enemy and King-Lover of Mandana. As he was searching all about, he saw upon his right hand one Knight who defended himself against fifteen or twenty of Cappadocian Soldiers; He went to them, and he knew him to be the King of Pont who by that number had inevitably been utterly ruined; He went strait to them, and making himself known by his voice; Hold, my Companions (said he to them) Kings must not be overcome thus, they must fight more nobly, and not be oppressed by multitudes: Upon his words, the Cavaliers held their hands, and he addressing himself unto the King of Pont; Valiant Prince (said he, and stopped a little) It shall be none of my fault but yours, if you do not revenge the blood which I spilt, and finish that which was the other day begun: Generous Enemy (Replied the King of Pont, going back and holding up his Sword) It would not be just in me to fight against my Deliverer; neither will I put you to take that from me which you came to give me, nor will I ever put myself unto so much dishonour, as to kill him who saved my life. But when he saw that Artamenes was not pleased with his Answer, and perhaps would force him to fight, he left him, and mingled suddenly amongst the multitude, whither Artamenes followed but could not meet with him that day: This passage moved both ●onder and sorrow in my Master: For considering the brave acts which he had seen the King of Pont perform, he knew it could be nothing else but generosity of soul which moved him to do thus: Alas (said he to me, when he returned at night unto his tent) what a dangerous Rival have I met with? and how unhappy should I be if Mandana knew him as well as I do? But O ye gods (said he) that this Prince did but know who he was that would have fought with him, and what the Reason was which moved me to save his Life! He knows not that I saved it only to take it away; for he did not look upon me as a Generous Enemy, nor suspect me to be his Rival. But Chrisantes (said he to me) how is it possible that the should know him and hate him? Have not I more cause to fear who am but bare Artamenes, and who am more hated as the Son of the King of Persia then as a mere stranger? Afterwards as a spark of jealousy he commended me to inquire with all care and wit concerning the original of the King of Ponts love, which I did, and which 〈◊〉 found out, there being none in all Cappadocia which was ignorant of it: I found, that the late Kings of Pont having a war with the King of Cappadocia, and in conclusion being drawn to terms of Peace, they were to give Hostages on both sides; and that the King of Pont sent one of his children with this, who then was not the eldest: That within six Months after he had been in the Court of Ciaxares, his love took first beginning, but durst not openly profess it, because it was not he who was to succeed his Father in the Kingdom: That in conclusion his Father and elder brother being dead, and he succeeding in the Crown, he sent Ambassadors to court the Princess by way of marriage, but she was refused him upon several reasons already mentioned. Artamenes understanding this was strangely disquieted, for all the virtue, modesty and severity of Mandana had much ado to persuade him, but that this Prince who was so generous, so handsome, so lovely, so amorous, and so complete a man, must needs in six month's time obtain one corner in heart and affection; yet when he remembered how the Princess did cordially rejoice at any victory obtained from this Prince, his fears of it begun to vanish and dispel his inquietudes: But his soul was not yet at rest; for (said he) since this Prince who is very handsome, of a good deportment, extraordinary valiant, and full of wit (as they tell me) cannot gain her heart; How can I ever hope to pretend unto it? I who am a Prince indeed but dare not tell it, who pass only for an unfortunate stranger, without estate or Country: So it was Sir, that after this third Combat wherein Artamenes had the better, and Philidaspes became very eminent, he thought good to refresh his Troops a little while, especially since the King of Pont did the like: During which interval, those Forces for which order was given to be drawn out of several Garrisons, were come up, his new Levies also completed, and then his Army amounted unto above fifty thousand men effectual; the King of Pont recruited also: So that these two enemy-Kings were both strong and able to dispute the Victory upon equal terms: Artamenes was received both by the King and Princess with wonderful applause: Philidaspes also was well welcomed, though much below Artamenes, which drove him into a most melancholy mood. During the time, they continued at Anisa, they often waited upon the Princess, and commonly both together, which did nothing at all please Artamenes; How cruel is Philidaspes (would he express himself unto me) to steal from me the one halt of Mandanaes' adorable looks, and all the sweetness of her Discourse? For he is so continually in her presence, that though every one did not think him capable of such a high ambition, yet they thought he was in love; Why doth he not hang upon Ciaxares, and seek his Fortune that way? Can he not let me alone with the Princess? Let him not think that I will ever be his Rival in that Ambition, to become great in the King's favour: If thou thinkest I do, alas thou dost abuse thyself: No No Philidaspes, enjoy and enjoy freely all the wealth of Cappadocia: Be more in the King's favour then ever any, I allow it, but leave Mandana only to me; take some other course to come unto that which thy Ambition aims at, and trouble not me thus in my freedom of Discourse with her; which to me is a very heaven of joy: I know very well (said he to us) that I dare not yet tell her of my passion; for her virtue commands my silence; her modesty and severity forbids me▪ I have not yet done things great enough to expose myself unto so great a danger: yet notwithstanding I cannot choose but desire most earnestly to entertain discourse with her without any witnesses: For my Friends, if ever that happy time once come unto me, none shall ever share with me in her favour and lovely looks: I only will enjoy her eyes and thoughts: I should prise this as an infinite happiness though I spoke not a word to her of my passion. How do I know but that this Divine Princess who is so full of wit and apprehension will when I am alone with her perhaps guess at that which I would have her know? and common courtesy causeth her to divide her mind between Philidaspes and me: But what is this I say? (said he reprehending himself) No, No, it is not yet time to discover thy Love Artamenes; but keep it close and let none know it: Artamenes is not yet arrived at that Point where he would be: nor hath he share enough in the Heart of Mandana to arm himself withal against her Anger; He must first oblige her more by his great Services; and gain more esteem by his Heroic Acts: force her inclinations by perpetual complaceny: divert her displeasure always if possible, and merit her love by as many amorous respects as ever soul was capable of: And then perhaps it will be time to speak unto her upon terms of Love: But alas (added he) if Philidaspes do continually enjoy her company, how can I have opportunities to do it? In conlusion, he was so full of fears, lest Philidaspes should be inspired with Love, as well as Ambition, that those different thoughts troubled him infinitely. Mean while, all the fresh Recruits were come up; and the King, before he advanced against his enemy, who was in the field ready to present him battle, would take a General view of his whole Army: And in order to that, caused it pass under the Walls of Anisa, upon which the Princess stood to behold that Martial Ceremony. Artamenes was that day in very common Arms, although he had very rich ones trimmed up, which none ever yet did see, but he said they were not made to be seen, and therefore he would not wear them until he had seen his enemies in them: telling Feraulas and me merrily, that Arms were never handsome until they were sanguined with the blood of his enemies. But although he did not that day rely upon his gallant and handsome deportment, yet notwithstanding he did excel all the rest of the Army, even Philidaspes himself, though Philidaspes was very handsomely proportioned, and that day very proudly trimmed up in Arms. The Princess being then upon the Walls, waited upon by all the Ladies of the Court and of Anisa, she viewed the Troops, who after they were passed by the King and her, were by the orders of Artamenes drawn up into Battalia, who stood in the Head of them, and carried himself with so gallant a grace, that he did with delight attract the eyes of all upon him: It might be said, that all this great body was linked unto him by an invisible chain, since by the least motion of his hand, or accent of his voice, it moved as he commanded; sometimes to the Right hand, sometimes to the Left; sometimes to the Rear, sometimes doubling their Ranks, and sometimes their Files; in short, there was Let 〈◊〉 very Sergeant in all the Army which understood his office better than Artamenes did. As they were busied at this brave exercise, the Princess discovered afar off upon the Plain, one of the King of Pont's Heralds, who was easily known by his distinguished habit. When he was come near the first Ranks, he was conducted unto the King, of whom he desired permission to speak unto Artamenes concerning something from the King of Pont; Ciaxares calling him, the Herald addressing his speech unto him, Sir (said he) the King of Pont my Master, who esteems you, and thinks himself obliged unto you, and who would not have the Victory, if it be his fortune to get it, imputed unto any baseness of his men, hath sent me to advertise you, that there are forty Knights in his Camp (whom he does not know, for if he did, they should all be punished) who have took a solemn Oath, and conspired against your life, to be at the first Battle, and not to separate nor seek for any but Artamenes, nor fight with any but him, but either to kill him or perish themselves. This is the Conspiracy Sir which the King my Master hath enquired out, and which was found in a Paper scattered in the camp, but he cannot discover who are the parties or who that writ it: Therefore Sir, the King of Pont and the King of Phrygia who sent me to you, to advertise you of it, not daring to desire you that both for their honour and your safety you would forbear ●ight that day, knowing well that your great Spirit cannot forbear: but they advise you at least to wear some simple unknown arms that day, to the end these base men may not easily distinguish you, nor effect their unworthy design. The Herald having delivered his Message, and made low reverence, also Artamenes another, unto the King he desired leave to answer the Herald, which he did most civilly, although it did much vex him he should receive such Obligations from his Rival. I am much obliged unto the King, your Master (said he unto the Herald) for the care which he takes in preserving my life; But to testify unto you that I am not altogether unworthy of that honour which he hath done me, I must desire leave of the King (said he in turning towards Ciaxares) that I stay you a little before I give you my Answer. Then he whispered Feraulas, who was close by him, in the ear, and commanded him something which none understood: but it was presently known, for Feraulas making haste, and my Masters Tent not being far off, we saw him return presently and followed by a Soldier which carried as a Trophy that magnificent Suit of Arms, which Artamenes had caused to be made for himself: This sight surprised Spectators, and begot a curiosity in the Princess: for Feraulas observed that she eyed the Arms, and was much astonished at them; Certainly Sir Artamenes could not make choice of any thing more magnificent nor more observable. They were engraved with gold, and enameled with such lively 〈◊〉 as the bow of heaven had none more glittering: All the nails were headed with Ru 〈…〉, intermingled with Emeralds: In the middle of his Buckler was a great Sun, represented by Diamonds which dazzled all those who beheld it: Upon his Head-piece was an Eagle of M●ssie gold, most rich, which her wings displayed, who bending down her head, and holding the beh 〈…〉 s top in Beak and Talons, did seem to gaze upon the Diamond Sun which shined in the midst of his Buckler: as who should say, that this Sun, which according to Artamenes his devise did emblem the Princess, did deserve more regard than that Sun which shined in the Heavens. From the Train of this proud Bird did issue a Plume of Feathers, admirably well mixed with twenty several colours: The Hilt of his Sword, the Scabbard, the Belt, the Gauntlet, the Suit of Arms and all the appurtenances were suitable unto this magnificence, which for the richness of the substance, the excellency of the work, and the admirable variety of colours, nothing could more invite the eye to gaze than it: As soon as they appeared, every one began to ask and desire to know what Artamenes would do with them. The King looked upon my Master, and stepped nearer to hear what he would say, when Artamenes after a low Congee, and ask leave to answer the Herald, Tell thy Master (said he to him) that since my Arms are good enough to resist his which are so dreadful, I shall think them therefore good enough, not to fear those gallant Cavaliers who have such a high opinion of their valour as that they must needs be forty to fight with one: I Prithee publish throughout all the King of Ponts Camp; that these Arms which here thou seest shall be those which I will wear upon the day of Battle. And assure thy Master from me (if the King will please to permit me) that to acknowledge his generosity in some manner, there shall none ever assault in my presence but one to one: nor shall his valour sink under an oppressing multitude if I be there: The Herald though astonished at the greatness of Artamenes soul, would have answered something, but he hindered him: No No my Friend (said he) do not oppose thyself against my design, and be confident that if the King thy Master did but throughly know me, he would not disallow of what I do; Ciaxares hearing what he said would have opposed him, instancing, that it was not wisdom or justice so slightly to hazard a life which was so considerable: My Honour Sir (Replied he) ought to be more precious unto you, therefore I most humbly beseech your Majesty, force me not unto any disobedience: But this (Replied Ciaxares) is to no purpose, yet he dismissed the Herald without any other answer. When he was gone, and the Arms carried back unto the Tent, Artamenes was not moved at it one jot, though the advice did so nearly concern his life. But Ciaxares had other resentments of it, and was much perplexed, almost resolving not to advance towards the Enemy, fearing to hazard that life which was so dear unto him: The Princess who saw the Herald come unto the King, and who knew Feraulas which carried those magnificent Arms, had a great desire to know the meaning of it; so that she sent one of her servants to inquire, who met us as we were conducting the Herald out of the Camp, after we had according to the orders of Artamenes carried him through the body of the whole Army, my Master being desirous that the Herald should inform the King of Pont in what a gallant it was, than we gave him at the parting according to my Master's appointment a Diamond of a very considerable value. This Servant of the Princess enquired of us all which he desired to know, and we told him in few words relating the generosity of Artamenes. He was so generally loved, that this man seemed to be much troubled at the great danger which my Master did expose himself unto, though he was much joyed to see that he turned all the designs of his enemies unto his honour. He acquainted Mandana with the business of the King of Ponts Herald, and with Artamenes his Answer: We knew afterwards by a Lady whom the Princess loved very well, and unto whom Feraulas did afterwards bear a very good will, that the Princess did presently change colour at the news: that it did trouble her extremely, and that she commended Artamenes highly. Philidaspes who was also close by the King as well as my Master, did also extol him; but it was out of different resentments, anger and jealousy: notwithstanding I found out this anger and this ambitious jealousy, which is inseparable from all those who aspire unto high reputation, Artamenes had some light suspicions that Philidaspes was in love with the Princess; And I think Philidaspes had no less jealousy of Artamenes: However both of them transact as if they both knew it; And they were possessed with the selfsame passions. The Princess for her part thought that they were both of them in love with honour and glory only, and dreamt not of any share which she had either in their hatred or love: Ciaxares questionless did love them both, because they did both of them highly deserve it, but with this difference; that his inclination did forcibly compel him to prefer Artamenes before Philidaspes, although he had as many obliging engagements to the one as the other. It is very true that Philidaspes was much held up by Aribees, who being desirous to oppose this new favourite Artamenes, did think no way so expedient as to make this other young stranger his stalking-horse, who as well as my Master had the advantage of novelty, which is a great charm throughout the world: So that these two being in opposition one to another, he betwixt them both might better preserve his own power and credit. Mean time, my Master who let no occasions of his restless love escape his thoughts, resented them very deeply when he understood how the Princess commended the King of Ponts generosity. How unhappy am I (said he to us at night when he was retired) and how ought I to suspect my fortune since she useth all her art to torment me? O thou too generous Enemy (said he) canst thou not conspire against my life, without advising me to preserve it in such a cruel manner? Why dost thou not contrive some other way to get the reputation of the world without making me the Subject of thy deserving it? But (said he) I am too blame that I do not make my true case known unto the King of Pont: It is to abuse his generosity, to hide from him that I am his Rival, against whom perhaps he would conspire if once he knew as much; But alas, dare I discover my love unto my Rival, who dare not tell as much unto my Princess? and can I endure that the King of Pont should thus load me with obligations, and force me against my will to return generosity for generosity, and also to preserve that life which I would take from him, which I shall infallibly do whenever any honourable occasion offers itself, unless he exchange his passions? Alas, unhappy Prince (said he) that I should lament thee! thee who questionless dost esteem of Artamenes, thou dost wish him engaged in thy service; that he had been born thy subject, and that he would become thy Creature: But O ye gods: although he were thy Creature, thy Subject, and thy Brother, yet he would be always thy Rival, and therefore thou shouldest not wish his life so much as it seems thou dost. But in the mean time thou preservest it do what I can, if what the Herald doth inform me be true; and certainly I shall owe thee my life if I escape; since if I had not been prepared for it, it would have been impossible for me not to fall vopn those disadvantages. Ah Mandana (said he pitifully) incomparable Mandana, do not bestow all your esteem upon my Rival: Stay until the end of the battle, then compare his Actions and mine together, and then dispense it with equity: yet nowithstanding there is a vast difference between him and me; for Mandana knows the King of Pont is in Love with her, but she is absolutely ignorant of my passions. May be Sir (said I to him) that the knowledge she hath of his Passion is more prejudicial than advantageous unto him: No No Chrisantes (said he to me) as severe as my Princess is, and what rigorous virtue soever be in her, it is impossible she should deprive love of that privilege, but that all glorious actions beget a new esteem in those who know them: yes Chrisantes, Love is a cause of Love; And it is without all doubt that when she is persuaded, all the Glorious and Heroic acts which are done are done for her; if she do not then return Love; yet she will at least esteem and sometimes pity; so that Chrisantes, at this very time it may be Mandana doth esteem and pity my Rival, and perhaps I may have some share in her esteem, but I shall have none of that pity; and I am well assured that in all her recompenses which she hath conferred upon me, there was not any ingredient of her heart or affection in them; may be she infused into them such a mercenary respect as belongs unto one who hacks out his Fortunes by his valour, and who looks more after recompense than glory, But as for the King of Pont he cannot be thought one of these: All his actions are suits for Love: the war he makes with her father speaks the violence of his affection; His generosity persuades her he is worthy of hers, and all things argue for him and against me: I should never make an end Sir, if I should repeat all his words: Nevertheless as he was the next morning to march towards the Enemy, and after he had given order for all things necessary for his voyage, often charging that his Suit of Arms should be sure not to be forgotten, he waited upon the King unto the Princess to take his leave. Ciaxares did there highly extol him; but after he had done his Commendations he began to chide him as much for his opinionative resolution to carry those remarkable Arms: Therefore (said the King unto him most affectionately) I am resolved to preserve your life as you preserved mine; you shall stay with me upon the day of batele. Sir (answered Artamenes, throwing himself at his feet) I am infinitely engaged unto your Majesty for your goodness towards me, but I most humbly beseech you to pardon me, if I do not in this obey you; But I am resolved to reserve myself as much as possible, since it is neither wisdom nor justice to expose myself unto the fury of forty at a time, who perhaps may wound me more dangerously in consideration of that service I should do your Majesty, than they could in consideration of myself; Then fight in plainer Arms, Replied the King: for though you have sent word otherwise, yet you sent without my consent, and it is I that must be Master in my own affairs, and in my own Army. It is most true Sir, Replied Artamenes, But Generosity ought to be Master of both our actions, and by consequence I must not do that which redounds unto my own dishonour. When the King saw that Artamenes would not be persuaded, I will leave you to my Daughter said he, and turned to the Princess, Persuade him if you can, and I will thank you: At these words the King embraced the Princess, and went out, She waiting upon him to the door: Artamenes was then obliged to stay after him, and as the Princess returned from waiting upon her Father, whom she did not part from without tears, Artamenes unto whom she had given her fair hand, would needs take his leave of her; but she staying him in an inviting manner, Artamenes (said she to him) do you so much fear my prayers, that you will needs be gone so hastily? You are dreadful in all your Actions Madam (answered my Master) and it is my duty to depart from my own generosity rather than from you: I have no design (Replied she) to persuade you out of your Generosity: but my desire is if I could possible to oblige you not to expose without necessity, unto danger, a life so glorious as yours, and which hath been so serviceable unto my Father: You know (said she) that reason should be the limits of all our actions: Valour hath its bounds, beyond which is rashness rather than right valour. Madam (said he interrupting her) it better becomes a man of my age, rather to go beyond those strict limits which your exact wisdom prescribes, then to stay short of them: The excess is always better than the defect: Your Argument is good (Replied the Princess) but I would have Artamenes be neither too timorous nor too bold. Madam (said he, interrupting her again) it is not impossible▪ but I may regulate myself according to this precise mediocrity which you desire me. But in the choice of these two extremes, I most humbly beseech you, Give me leave to incline more unto that way in which I may meet with honour, than the other where honour never comes: Oftentimes (said the Princess interrupting him) we must surmount and overcome ourselves; Yes Madam (answered Artamenes,) We must, so the Victory do not make us unworthy to conquer others; Mandana then said, I do not desire of you that you will not fight, but only that you would not wear those remarkable Arms at the first battle. Madam (replied my Master) you may command from Artamenes that which is most hard for him to part from, without any thought of disobedience; but for this he cannot consent unto your desire; a Disguise (said he and blushed) is allowable in Love but not in War: In short Madam (continued he and smiled) it is far from my disposition to hide myself from my enemies, or to render myself less remarkable. If I were so absolutely qualified as to merit a Favour from the most excellent Princess upon earth, I should then take the boldness to beg of illustrious Mandana that glorious and magnificent Scarf which now she wears: and if I had the glory to obtain it, it would be an infallible Preservative against all dangers, and an absolute certainty of Victory: It would render me invincible in rendering me more remarkable. Artamenes (Replied the Princess, and blushed her turn) hath all the excellent qualities to deserve the care of the greatest Princess of the world for his preservation: And if I were persuaded that this Scarf whereof you speak could preserve you invulnerable, you shall without all doubt easily obtain it: But I am so far from thinking it will preserve you, that if I should give it unto you, I should fear myself accessary unto your ruin, and that it would invite the arrows of your enemies unto your heart, for which end I have not kept it: You are (most ingenious Madam, answered Artamenes) and can oblige me in denial of it: But Madam (continued he with a more serious countenance) I have nothing to ask you, for indeed to desire that were to desire my enemies should not see me, as perhaps some of them shall not, if my Fortune do not fail me, nor my courage betray me: I am glad (replied the Princess) that you have put me in a condition to refuse you nothing: But Artamenes (continued she) what will you do? I will vanquish your enemy's Madam (answered he) and do that which shall make you know I have vanquished them; which I could never do, if I should hide myself as you desire me. As they were in this discourse, in comes Philidaspes, who came to take his leave of the Princess: All three changed colour at once: Philidaspes for anger to find my Master there: Artamenes for spite, to be so interrupted by him: and the Princess for shame whereof she herself could not tell the cause. Because it was a good while, since the King went out of Mandanaes' Chamber, therefore he thought fit to leave Philidaspes with her, whilst he went to seek the King, but it was absolutely impossible for him to stir; and therefore, he stayed there as long as Philidaspes. As soon then as Philidaspes entered, the discourse did alter, as though there had never been any expressions of Love between Artamenes and Mandana, and as though she never knew that my Master was in Love with her? for that pure and noble fire, which afterwards did inflame his heart, his soul and all his faculties, was yet but a little weak spark; yet Feraulas and I did think (for we were both present at this discourse) that this arrival of Philidaspes, did a little cross and anger the Princess. He no sooner came near her, but she sweetly spoke, with abundance of civility to him; but how much sweetness soever the incomparable Mandana retained in her soul, yet she always appeared majestical, modest, and high in her looks; so that my Master has often told me, when he was with her, he durst not so much as think upon his Passion, much less express it; insomuch as she made him fear as well as Love her: Philidaspes and Artamenes stayed a good while with her, but durst not openly express the least shadow of that secret aversion which they had one of another: And as they were both strangers to her, she treated them both alike with equal civilities. Yet notwithstanding, because Artamenes had the Command over Philidaspes in this Martial occasion, and perhaps the Inclination of the Princess prompted her, therefore she did more honour unto Artamenes then to Philidaspes. As they were ready to depart, Go, Generous stranger (said she to them,) go and be happy; and manage your Lives so, in the day of battle, that I may receive all the particulars of the victory from your two mouths; but above all things, have a care of the King. It is to me Madam (replied Philidaspes) whom that Honour belongs, for as for Artamenes, he will have enough to do with his forty Cavaliers, without looking unto any else: We shall see, Madam, at the end of the Battle (answered Artamenes) who it is which best acquits himself of his Duty: for if I be not mistaken, it is best judging upon the event. I question not, replied the Princess, but you will both of you do such things as will well become men of great Souls and high Honour: and I will go to present my Prayers unto the Gods, that they will be pleased to make you Conquer and Triumph. Upon these words she left them both, and went immediately unto the Temple. Presently after, the Lieutenant of the Guard, came to tell Artamenes and Philidaspes, that the King commanded them to hasten unto their Commands; and certainly it was well this Order came so happily: for if their converse had continued but a little longer in the absence of the Princess, I believe they would have made a quarrel of it; so averse were their dispositions when they were together. The reason why they were so hastily commanded away, was because the Soldiery was a little in disorder, and talked very high, in a time when it was fit for them to think of Action. They both than went after the King: and the whole Army which was already upon their March, advanced toward the enemy; who was not above two days march from thence. I know Sir you wonder to hear me tell of so many Battles as Artamenes fought and got in this War: But Sir, to lessen your wonder, you must know, that there are not many Garrisons or places of strength, neither in Bithynia, Galatia or Cappadocia; so that the victory doth always fall unto him who can make himself Master of the field, which cannot be but by fight and gaining of battles. The first day of this March Artamenes was all in a dump: And because I knew it could not be the apprehension of this danger whereof he was forewarned, which could cause this reservedness, but I knew that his fantastical passions of Love would oftentimes forge Mountains out of molehills, and make every trivial accident to be a matter of great importance, therefore I resolved to ask him what it was which so much troubled his mind; whether it was because the Princess denied him the Scarf which he asked, or the denial of any thing else which was less advantageous to him? Can the reason of it Chrisantes (said he) be, because she hath a care of my life? and thinks this Scarf which is so rich and maguificent will make me more remarked by the eye of my Enemies? Or is it not rather because she thinks me unworthy of it, and because she will not give me any cause of complaint: therefore her dexterous with hath contrived this obliging pretence to colour her denial? In short, whether do you think it was for Artamenes or against Artamenes that she refused it? and whether must I commend or complain of her for it? Should I be sad or be glad at it? Would I could rightly know the thoughts of my Princess, that I might regulate mine own accordingly? But alas (said he) whatsoever her thoughts are, they are all reason, and I have no cause to complain: If she refused it because she feared some fatality in it prejudicial to my life, it were an unconceivable favour; and if she refused it because she thought my quality unworthy of such an honour, than she hath done only a wrong to Cyrus, but not to Artamenes. But O ye gods (added he) if after the services which Artamenes hath done her she refused the Scarf unto him because he was but Artamenes, how can he ever hope she will ever permit him to tell her that he loves her? or how can he ever hope to be beloved? No No, said he, Let us not conceive so cruel a thought; Let us resent the Princess refusal in a more advantageous sense; and let us think that what she said, and said so sweetly, was for us, when she did it against us; Let us not interpret her meaning, and dive too deep into the secrets of her Divine Soul; Let us rather suffer ourselves to be pleasingly deceived, then endeavour to find out so irksome a truth; After this, Artamenes did ponder upon the Princess her behaviour unto Philidaspes, even to the least circumstance; and though he perceived that himself was much more regarded than he, yet he could have been contented if he had not come in at all; and almost wished that his Princess had no cause of quarrel with him; therefore he chid himself for all those fantastical thoughts which his Passion caused to conceive of her; Her, who as violent as she seemed to be, did yet permit him to follow the rules of reason. But to be short Sir, we 〈…〉 d that day: The morrow after we came within sight of the enemy's Vanguard; and withinn the compass of two day's time we were in readiness to give battle unto the Enemyy; which both sides much desired with equal longings. The King did all he could to hinder Artamenes from wearing those remarkable Arms, but could not prevent him: I never saw my Master's countenance so pleasant as that morning. As for my part I trembled to think of the danger unto which he exposed himself, for all his valour which I knew to be in him: Feraulus and I resolved to follow him close as near as the disorder and confusion of the fight would permit us, and either preserve his life or lose our own: Ciaxares did all he could to keep him near him; and when he perceived that there was no persuasions would prevail, he cocommitted the command of the right wing of the Army unto his Command; and unto Aribies the left wing, under whose command he always ordered Philidaspes. In short Sir, without any further particularising the order of the battle; It will suffice I tell you that Artamenes did prodigious acts; insomuch as I, who was an eye-witness of them, could not conceive them within any compass of possibility to be done. He performed his Promise unto the King of Ponts Herald, and wore those magnificent Arms which I told you of: So that it was easy enough for those forty Conspirators to know him and fall upon him when they found their opportunity. Their Resolutions were (as since we learned) not to assault him when he was alone by himself, but when he was busily engaged against some others of their party; But since Artamenes was prepared for them, they could not act their design. When both parties were within the shot of Arrows, which had obscured the Air with clouds of them, Feraulas and I who had no eyes but upon Artamenes, did see that he was more oppressed with them then any which were about him: that his Buckler though it was covered with a plate of gold was very much battered: and that there was some likelihood a great number had compacted together, who aimed all at him: But Artamenes without the least astonishment or any fear of that danger wherein he was, lifting his Buckler up with his left arm, to preserve himself from the Arrows which light like hail upon him; and turning unto those about him; Come my Companions (said he to them) let us go and vanquish those which fight so well at a distance, and who perhaps will not be so valiant with Swords as they are with Bows. In saying so, he led them on; they follow and fell on with so much courage and precipitation, that the Enemies left wing was disordered and thought to call for Quarter: But presently after they took heart, and the Combat was stiffly disputed: Mean while the forty Conspirators which were to fall upon Artamenes did not forget the promise which they made unto him who employed them, and it was easy to distinguish him from other enemies who had no particular design upon his life. For these did always shun our men when they assaulted them, and would not engage with any who fell upon them unless my Master: so that it is impossible he should ever have any rest which those who fight in the bloodiest Battles sometimes have; for which way soever he stirred he was ready to be compassed about; If he charged one, than he was presently beset with four or five; if he killed one, he brought two more upon him for it: the more he defended himself the harder he was beset; the more he made them fall the faster they came in, and did triple their number to execute their plot. Feraulas and I contributed all our force to fight these cruel enemies, who fell foe fiercely upon him; yet if his own valour had no better befriended him then ours, all our assistance had been in vain: But he Sir laid about him with wonderful fury, and did things so much above imagination, that because they are so incredible I dare hardly relate them: The chief of the Conspirators was so subtle and so basely wicked that he commanded his Cavaliers to endeavour all they could to kill his Horse, that so he being that way overturned, some of their companions might more easily kill him: This Plot took effect twice; The first time I had the good fortune to be near him, and give him mine whether he would or no; and I verily believe he would not have accepted of him, if I had not at that same time accidentally light upon another, one of her side who was next me being killed. But for the second time, I saw the Horse which I gave him fall dead, and my Master recover himself from under him, fight with those that fell upon him before I could get in to his assistance, for the Conspirators had so compassed me about, that they hindered me. A thousand to one but he had been killed at this bout; yet it was the will of heaven to preserve him, and make him so fortunate to kill one of those Conspirators whose Horse was an excellent good one; So that Artamenes without the loss of a minute of time, and in spite of all their resistance which opposed him, he got upon him, cutting off the hand of one who had hold of the Bridle, and putting to rout all that durst resist him: In conclusion, Sir, Artamenes to my knowledge killed and wounded above thirty, and took many Prisoners besides, both Conspirators and others: Mean while, the enemies right wing stood out better than their left; and for all the valour of Aribees and Philidaspes, the Victory did cost them dearer than it did Artamenes, although they had no particular enemies to fight against, yet in the end they obtained it. Ciaxares for his part he was in the main body of the battle, fell upon the Enemy, and quite disordered them; so that the Victory went clearly on his side: All was in a mighty confusion, The Conquerors pursued the conquered very eagerly: some rendered themselves, and threw away their Arms; Others preferred death before captivity; In short, the Victory is got, and all by the valour of Artamenes, who without all question was the principal cause: for I had forgot to tell you, that at the beginning of the battle Aribees and Philidaspes were forced to give ground a little, by reason of the violent charge of the Enemy, whereof Artamenes being advertised, and supposing himself able to deal with the Enemy which he had in hand, without them, sent to two thousand men, to the relief of Aribees and Philidaspes; which Auxiliary preserved them from being vanquished, and by consequence was the very getting of the Victory: In all this great confusion Artamenes who had received but two fleight hurts, charged and pursued the Enemy in all places where he saw them rally or make any head: As for those who were not in a condition to make resistance, never was a Conqueror so full of sweet, and full of clemency as he. As he was thus engaged in this pursuit, he discovered the King of Pont, whom Philidaspes did heavily press upon with twelve or fifteen men, and had inevitably kilied him, if my Master, who was followed by Feraulas and me with two others, had not come in to rescue: As soon as he came near, speaking as loud as he could, and dispersing those assisted Philidaspes: Generous Prince (said he to the King of Pont) since you are not so fortunate as I am though you are more valiant; you would not perhaps so happily escape from those who set upon you, as I have them who set upon me: If I do not keep promise with you, it is because you will obstinately fight against those men who are not absolutely under my Command; the King whom I serve being personally in the Army: But either render yourself a Prisoner, or else fight with me single, I give you the choice of these two: Unto these words which did infinitely ravish the King of Pont, and surprise Philidaspes,) the King of Pont began to reply just when a hundred of his Horse rallied together, and sought about for him, began to charge them who had compassed him about. But the King seeing that he could not fight with Philidaspes who would have taken away his life, unless also he fought with Artamenes who preserved it, went away with as much haste as he could: This little looked for accident did so surprise Philidaspes as you cannot imagine: yet presently after when he had recovered his amazement, never thinking to follow the King of Pont, he turned angrily towards Artamenes, and sharply said unto him, What, will you have none to triumph but yourself? and are you not content with your own Victories, but you must also rob other men of theirs? Artamenes looking upon him with a fiery aspect, It is such a one (answered he) who makes use of the valour of others to vanquish a distressed Prince, abandoned of his men, who ought to be reproached with stealing a victory, and not Artamenes, who never employs any arm but his own to obtain it; and who leaving all the Plunder of a Field unto the Soldiers, doth seldom make them partakers of his dangers: Those whom Fortune favours (Replied Philidaspes) need not to call any others to their help: Those who dare trust unto their own courage (answered Artamenes) never beg the help of Fortune: I am certain she hath been your friend and helped you at this bout (Replied Philidaspes,) And certainly she hath forsaken you (replied Artamenes) that you should thus need the assistance of twelve or fifteen to deal with one single Prince. It is an easy matter for you to vanquish (answered Philidaspes) who never hath any to fight with but base, saint-hearted, and simple Antagonists. It is an easy matter for you to vanquish an abandoned King with a great number, but you would perhaps find it a harder matter (added he, and raised his voice) to vanquish Artamenes single, whensoever you shall give him an occasion to fight with you; for he desires it, and it shall be to morrow morning if you please: Let us not stay so long (Replied Philidaspes) than he stood upon his Guard ready to receive Artamenes, who came most fiercely upon him, and gave a furious blow, which doubtless had deeply wounded him if his hand had not turned, and the Sword glided upon his Arms. To be short, they both of them felt the weight of each others blows, and the strength of their Arms, do what we could who endeavoured to part them: But here Sir, I beseech you, admire what virtue and true valour can do; we were but only four which followed Artamenes; and they were twelve or fifteen which followed Philidaspes; who when they saw the dispute that was between them, though they took his part against the King of Pont, yet they would not do so against my Master, but turned on his side. At this very time Claxares, followed by a great number of men did draw near us, and caused these two surious Combatants to give over, and suspend their choler. What Daemon enemy unto my Glory (said Claxares) would ruin these who have made me victorious? And why would ye do that yourselves which Fifty thousand men could not do? After these words he asked what was the ground of their Quarrel; and when he understood it, he chid Philidaspes very much for drawing his Sword against one who had the Command over him; and he did a little blame my Master, for so saving the King of Pont. Sir (said Artamenes to him) I will engage myself, to repair this fault by some way that is more Honourable: and I will promise to bring you this illustrious Prisoner before the War be ended, or else perish in the attempt: Did I not promise in your Majesty's presence, that I would not suffer him to be vanquished by any numerous multitude? and I did but keep my word with him. If the King had not come— (replied the desperate Philidaspes) you might perhaps have been punished, (then added my Master interrupting him) for your boldness and rashness. The King imposed silence upon them both, and by virtue of his Sovereign Authority, agreed them upon the place, and caused them to embrace one another before him. In conclusion, a Retreat being sounded, they encamped upon the field of Battle, and every one returned into his Tent, and Artamenes thought upon his; Feraulas who had been wounded did the same: As for me, who had escaped more happily than they, I found myself in a condition to do them both service. The King came to visit Artamenes at night, who not being able to contain his joy that my Master had escaped so dangerous an adventure, he expressed all the signs that possibly could be of a most dear and tender affection towards him. He sent immediately unto the Princess his fair Daughter, to acquaint her with the Victory, and Preservation of Artamenes: and my Master (as you may very well believe) did receive this Honour from the King with much joy and reverence. All this while, though Artamenes and Philidaspes were good friends from the face outward, yet they were not so at the heart; and it may easily be conjectured, that this last adventure did sharpen their spirits: it begot fantastical resentments in both their souls. For Sir, to disguise the matter no longer● Philidaspes, whom my Master thought to be only an ambitious man, did love the Princess as well as he; and this is the reason why he was so hot against the King of Pont: looking more upon him as a Lover of Mandana, then as an enemy unto Ciaxares. Nevertheless he drew some rest unto himself out of this accident: for considering how generously Artamenes had preserved the King of Ponts Life, he could not so much as suspect my Master to be his Rival; thinking it a thing impossible in such a case to be a Rival, and so Generous both. As for Artamenes, his thoughts ran quite contrary concerning Philidaspes, for his suspicion of his Love to the Princess, was by this days accident more augmented then ever. How is possible (said he to us at night, after Ciaxares was gone out of the Tent) that Philidaspes who cannot harbour any particular hatred of the King of Pont, unless because he is his Rival, should offer to kill him, as he was about to do? That Prince, I say, who seems to be of a brave and Generous Soul, and is inspired with a Gallant desire of Glory? Ah: No, no Chrisantes (said he to me) Philidaspes Loves Mandana, if I be not the most deceived man in the world. Thus Sir, you see, that one and the same action produces different effects: for Philidaspes did think, that Artamenes did not Love Mandana, because he saved the Life of the King of Pont: and on the contrary, Artamenes thought that Philidaspes did Love her, because he did endeavour to kill him in a manner so dishonourably. Yet notwithstanding this, all these diversities of opinions were so dubious, so uncertain, and grounded only upon weak conjectures, that they could not assure themselves of any truth: but they entertained an inveterate aversion one against the other. However, some two or three days after the Battle, Ciaxares held a Council of War, to consult, Whether or no, they should Pursue their Enemies, who were retreated, and who waited for a Puissant Recruit: And to amaze them the more, it was resolved to divide the Army, and send one part of it to besiege a strong Fort in Bythinia, which was seated upon a great Lake: by this means to divert, and impede these Forces which the Enemy expected: Mean while, the most considerable part of the Army, to stay and wait upon that part of the Enemy which had Rallied, and to act according as they should see cause. Things being thus Resolved upon, Ciaxares who did find himself not well, returned to Anisa, and left Artamenes Lieutenant General of the Army which was to keep the field; Aribees followed him, and sent Philidaspes with the rest of the Troops, to besiege that Town whereof I spoke before: The Capricious humour of these two Rivals, would not suffer either of them to be contented with their employment. Philidaspes saw that Artamenes being in a condition wherein he might sighed with the King of Pont, had therefore the advantage of him: And Artamenes thought that the gaining of such a considerable Town, was more advantage than gaining a Battle: for said he, after the taking of the Town, be is got into a place of great importance, whereas, after the winning of a Battle, the Conqueror gets nothing but a bare empty field, without any other benefit of the vanquished: But at last, they must be content; Philidaspes departs with Sixteen thousand men, and Artamenes stays with Thirty thousand; the King reserved no more with him, than what was necessary for his Guard: My Master had received such slight hurts, that he kept his bed but one day: These two Rivals, taking their leaves of one another in the presence of the King, did in appearance wish all good fortunes one to another, but inwardly with a counterfeit hate. The next morning, the King removed, and left the command of the Army unto Artamenes in spite of all the solicitations of Arabees to the contrary. There were two Prisoners which were taken in the fight, one of them was much wounded and desired to speak with Artamenes concerning some business of importance: My Master being told of it, went presently unto their Tent, supposing it might perhaps be something which might be serviceable to the King: when he was entered, the wounded man spoke first; Sir, said he unto him, since you have bestowed upon me such demonstrative marks of valour, by those wounds which I have received from your hand, I will give you a full subject for your Justice or for your Clemency: Those are two Virtues, replied my Master, in the choice of which there is no danger of being deceived; yet my nature being evermore inclinable unto Indulgence more than Rigour, you may almost be certain which of them I shall choose and fellow: Sir (said he which was not wounded) that which my brother would say, and which because he is very weak I will say for him, will show you sufficiently which you will follow, and justify all the rigour which you can devise against us; for indeed Sir (continued he and cast himself at his feet) we are vile, wicked men, whom our knowledge of your Virtue, hath made virtuous and in love with your Glory, and who by 〈…〉 ce do hate our Lives, until we have by some poor service, made a little satisfaction for that evil we would have done you. Artamenes hearing these men say so, knew not what to think; at last, he which was wounded began to speak, and with much pain, tell him thus: Sir, not to hold you any longer in suspense; and to testify, we are really penitent for our Crime, since we discover it ourselves; know Sir, that my brother and I were two of those forty Cavaliers, who conspired against your Life, and who did set upon you with so much baseness in the last Battle: Alas, my friends (said Artamenes interrupting him which spoke, and looking upon them both without any anger) What moved you to do so? and what moves you to do thus? Why would you then destroy me? and why would you now save me? how dare you expose yourselves unto the will of a justly incensed Conqueror? Sir, (〈◊〉 that Conspirator) we would have destroyed you, because we were unfortunate men, with whom, hopes of Recompense was more prevalent, then true love of Honour: But now Sir, your illustrious example has better taught us, and we do prefer one act of Virtue, before all the Grandeur of the earth; and therefore itis, that we had either hazard our Lives in discovering our fault, then conceal from you, how the chief Author of that Conspiracy is now unknown in your power; and if he should chance be exchanged or delivered amongst other Prisoners, perhaps he would act worse than before, and attempt against the most Noble Life living upon earth: How, said Artamenes, the chief Author of the Conspiracy in my hands? Who may this man be whom certainly I never offended so much as to hate me; and who hates me so much as he prefers the death of his enemy before his own Honour? It is Artanus Sir (replied they both together:) Is it Artanus (replied my Master?) Yes Sir, said one of them, 〈◊〉 was indeed Artanus, who contrived that Note which was found in the King of Ponts Camp, and engaged us amongst the forty Conspirators, who were to fight against none but Artamenes, and kill none but him: And that man who spoke unto us from him, and should have given that Note back unto him, did lose it amongst the Tents; so that it being carried unto the King, he caused this information to be given of it: But since neither Artames nor any of the Conspirators were named in the Writing, nor known unto any, nor could he discover the Author or any of his Complices, therefore he sent to advertise you of it, but was not able to remedy it by the punishment of them, because he knew not who they were: Believe it S●●, it was Artanus who suborned us; it is he who is in despair, and ashamed of what he would have done, and that he should be overcome by you in a manner so shameful unto himself, and so prejudicial unto the Love which he bears unto the Princess of Pont, in aflection to whom he is deeply engaged: To get himself into this Princess favour, he came disguised into the Army: where not doubting, but by that Party which he had prepared, he should kill you, he intended to show himself after the Battle with your Arms, and if I durst speak it, with your Head in his hand, to the end the King of Pont might take him unto favour, because he had got the Victory over the most valiant of his Enemies: But Sir, the Justice of the Gods and your valour has prevented him: and now Sir you may dispose of our Fortunes and our Lives as you please: If your wounds be not dangerous (answered Artamenes, looking upon him which was in bed) you may have time to repair your fault by some generous Act: for I cannot punish those who repent, nor revenge myself upon those who are not in a condition to defend themselves: Ah Sir, said these two men (the one holding up his hands and the other kneeling) against what man, or rather against what good have we been suborned? Against a man who fears the gods (Replied my Master) taking the one of them up with one hand, and holding out the other unto his brother; and one who does prefer death before the least injustice or the least baseness; And therefore (continued he) I will forget that crime which the unhappiness of your condition caused you to commit; and because I will recompense you for your Repentance, and for the good service you have done in telling me the Author of your crime is in my power, I will give give you your lives, and promise you liberty, which otherwise should not have been without ransom: Oh Sir, said they, command any thing and be obeyed, for what doth not those men owe who have life given them when they deserved death? I command then, Replied Artamenes, that before you be set at liberty, you solemnly swear that for no consideration whatsoever you will ever employ your valour against any as you did against me: and that you will not dishonour your lives nor your Noble professions by any ignoble actions; Fight against me like valiaut Soldiers as an Enemy unto your King, and do what you can to overcome me; for I promise not to refuse the measuring of my Sword with either of you; or fall on me both together, if you have so good an esteem of me that you dare not do it single; but do not sell the blood and the life of any one; nor endeavour to gain by infamy. O Sir, said they, interrupting him, we will rather run our swords through our own hearts, than ever draw them against you, nor ever employ them in any unworthy action: After this, Artamenes did make very much of them; and having learned who it was which kept Artanus Prisoner, who concealed himself as much as he could, he commanded him to be brought into the Tent where these two Cavaliers were: as soon as he was come thither, and saw him there, than he thought he was discovered, and therefore not staying till Artamenes spoke to him or mentioned his his crime, I know (said he) that those Traitors whom I see, who though they had not power to resist my promises, have yet the perfidy to accuse me, therefore I will not go about to deny that whereof they may easily convince me. But Sir (said he to him in a most suppliant manner, and in whom fear of death did plainly appear) what would you have a man do who in losing his honour hath lost his reason, but to cover one crime with another; and find his own life in your death? I know this is but an ill argument; but since I have no other, I must address myself unto clemency, and ask pardon, since I cannot ask justice but I must ask punishment with it. This this is a strange kind of fearing ignominy (answered Artamenes) that you should dishonour yourself for fear of being dishonoured: No No Artanus, your Passion hath made you extravagant: and this course which you take is not the way unto honour: I think that I know a little better than you how to find out the paths which leads unto it, therefore set me be your Guide, and tell you without any anger or reproach, that the way to make you forget your former faults is not to commit new ones: If you have any intention to blot out of the memory of men any act which perhaps is ignominious: you must repair it by a hundred acts of virtue and honour; not fall from worse to worse: therefore Artanus I intent to send you unto the King your Master; At those words Artanus changed colour, and it plainly appeared that he had rather stay in the hands of him whose life he had attempted against, then return unto the King of Pont: so that Artamenes observing it, Fear not Artanus (said he) but that if I send you I will send security of your life with you: If I had a mind to ruin you, I should not need to send you any whither to be punished: If I may guests at what will be hereafter by what hath already been, I find very few hopes of your goodness; and if I may judge you by your present looks, it is easy to see in your eyes and in your way of proceeding, that your heart harbours much anger and fear, but yet for all that Artanus is no more terrible unto me living, then if he were dead: Therefore I will forget what's past; I will commit the future unto the gods, and behave myself for the present like a man of courage; Do you so to Artanus if you be wise; In conclusion Sir, after much discourse together, Artamenes sent Artanus unto the King of Pont, and would never have discovered the crime of the man, if it had not been always dangerous for Kings to keep such wicked wretches about them without the knowledge of it: but he entreated him to be contented with knowledge of Artanus without punishing him, ordering the Herald whom he commanded to conduct him, that he should not leave the King of Pont until he had engaged his promise not to punish him: Artanus who in spite of all his malice could not choose but see the moderation of Artamenes, yet could not choose but complain of his hard fortune which made him find so much rigour in the clemency of his Enemy, since in giving him life and liberty he gave him shame and confusion also in sending him unto the King of Pont and spoiling his reputation in the esteem of his Princess whom he loved: As for these two Cavaliers Prisoners, after Artamenes had given them their liberty, they beseech him not to send them unto the King of Pont their Master, but to let them hide their infamy in some far off Country: Artamenes who judged that perhaps these men might fear the revenge of Artanus, who was a man of some quality in his own Country, did consent unto their desires as soon as he which was wounded was recovered: gratifying them with great rewards at departure: When this Act was made known unto the Princess, she did extremely commend him for it, as well as the King of Pont when Artanus came home; so that my Master had the commendations both of his Rival and his Mistress at one time. It is true, the Prince was ignorant that he whom he so much extolled was the greatest obstacle in the world unto his designs; and that Princess also was ignorant of his being her Adorer. We understood Sir, by the Herald's return, how the King of Pont had much ado to resolve whether or no he should suffer Artanus to live; but the Herald observing my Masters command not to leave him until he had obtained the King's promise to let him live, the King did at last promise not to punish him upon condition he should never come in his presence, but for ever go out of his dominions. During all these passages, Artamenes never dispatched any Messenger to Ciaxares, but he presented his Compliments unto the Princess; And the Princess never saw any come from the Camp unto Anisa, but she was very inquisitive how he did, and was much pleased to hear all the wonders of his life related. To sum 〈◊〉 up all in few words, it may justly be said of Artamenes, that whatsoever he did, was excellently done: And I remember at that time there was an old Cappadocian Captain who was quartered in Galatia, and had committed some disorder in his Lodging, whereof the Inhabitant came to complain; Artamenes knowing him a very serviceable Soldier, and had lived long in Arms, desired to give him such a check as should correct him but not incense him; thinking it fit to have some respect unto an old Officer, who had been so much longer in Arms then himself; Therefore he sent him this message in a piece of paper, that he conjured him, not to force a young Soldier to take so much holdness upon him as to chide and chastise an old Captain. I relate this passage Sir to the end you may know the judgement and moderation of my Master, and that you should not wonder to understand that though he was a stranger, yet he so demeaned himself as he was as much feared, loved, and obeyed as if he were a Cappadocian born, and one of the most illustrious Families amongst them. Mean while, the King of Pont having received great Auxiliaries from Phrygia, and so recruited his Army, that he was in a condition to undertake both Artamenes and Philidaspes at one time if he had pleased: But yet he thought it more expedient to offer fight with Artamenes before he divided his Forces, because than he would be more numerous than my Master, intending to relieve that Town which Philidaspes besieged, (and which was well provided with all things necessary to endure it) after he had gotten the better of the day as he hoped to do: But since he was so much in love with the valour of Artamenes, and owed him his life, He would in some way or other requite it: The King of Phrygia and he, did study how to find out some extraordinary course to be disengaged from those obligations wherein he had fettered them, and not to be so perpetually overcome, as well by his virtue as his valour; They fixed upon a strange and new resolution: 'Tis very true the King of Pont who was really generous, was concerned in it: For although he knew that Artamenes did not so much as suspect his generosity in that business of the forty Conspirators; yet since Artanus was banished, some ill meaning minds, or perhaps Artanus himself would forge a false report, that the Author of that conspiracy is not yet known, and will tacitly give it out, as if the King of Pont, although he did advertise Artamenes of it, yet was the Author of it: and that his generosity in sending unto Artamenes was a mere subtlety: This Prince therefore did desire to justify himself from any sycg scandalous reports: and in order to that the two Kings caused this command to be published throughout all the Army, exacting strict obedience, that none whosoever should use any Bows, Arrows, Slings, Darts, Javelins, or any far off Engines against Artamenes, whose Arms were so remarkable, that none could mistake him: and to use no other weapon but sword only against him, and not to fight against him but only one to one, as much as the confusion of the Battle would permit, lest so gallant a man as he should die by the hand of a Coward who might kill him at a distance with an Arrow, or lest he should be ruined by a multitude as Artanus attempted; They conceived this Act would redound unto the glory of their Nation, they thereby testifying unto the world that they cared not for victory upon base disadvantages. The day after the publication of this Order Artamenes (who trusted unto none but himself in all matters of importance, and who was so able, so vigilant, and capable of every thing, (if I may say it) as he took upon himself the charge of the whole Army, and transacted successively) he caused a party to go out with him and face the Enemy. The King of Pont being advertised of it by his Spies, sent the like number to beat off those who approached so near them: But Artamenes wondered that he was not covered with Clouds of Arrows as he used to be, and far from being compassed about by multitudes, for he never had but one at one time upon him, he himself assaulted many, but he was never assaulted by more than one at once: This accident did a while astonish him, for things were not wont to go so; yet in the heat of action he reflected but slightly upon it, nor thought of any thing but getting the Victory: In conclusion, a great part of the Enemy was cut off, many took Prisoners, and the rest saved themselves by flight in the disorder of the battle. Artamenes being returned to the Camp, the Prisoners which were taken hoping to be used better for it, did publish the generosity of their King, and the prohibition which he ordained concerning my Master. The Soldiers hearing so unusual a procedure, and Artamenes coming to the knowledge of it, he caused all the Prisoners to be presently set at liberty, desiring them to tell the King their Master, that he should presently see he was not altogether unworthy of that honour which he had done him; I was by him when this happened; and he was no sooner got by himself, but looking upon me with admiration, Chrisantes (said he to me) what odd fortune is this, to have a Rival who overloads me with so many favours, and so much generosity, that I am almost forced to hate him? Such an one as by his good intentions unto me, drives me into a strange despair! Doubtless he thinks to purchase the Princess esteem by this way, and seeks more after public acclamations than victory; Oh, if it be so, said he, how much more terrible is he to me when he preserves my life, then when he assaults me to take it away? No No too generous Rival (said this amorous Prince) I will not suffer thee to surmount me in virtue; and I am resolved to dispute with thee more stiffly for the esteem of Mandane, then ever I contended with thee for victory in the head of an Army: yes Chrisantes (said he, and looked upon me) my Princess shall never say that the King of Pont hath done any brave act, but she shall say that Artamenes hath done another as Heroic; at least, I will make such a Combat in the secret of Mandanaes' heart, as he shall not with justice overcome me, unless the inclination of my Princess be biased by leaning more unto his side, and surmount me that way more than by his own merit: After this Sir, I would have said something, but he would not hear me. The next morning he held a Council of War, and according to the order thereof it was thought best he should impede the enemy from attempting to raise the Siege which Philidaspes attended upon, in case there were any intentions of the Enemy discovered to take that course: yet he could not resolve to contribute so much unto the glory of Philidaspes, nor leave the King of Pont so long in the advantage of his high generosity; Therefore he so wrought with all the Captains of his Army by that winning eloquence which nature and education had given him in the Greek Language, at they were all resolved to force the Enemy unto battle, as he himself intended: Judge Sir whether it were a hard matter to make two Enemies meet which sought one another, therefore it was not long before Artamenes had his desired satisfaction: But here you may wonder Sir at what the desire of glory can do in a soul that is truly generous: Artamenes who upon the King of Ponts notice concerning the Conspiracy against his life, had chosen the most glorious Arms that the world could make, to the end he might better be known to them who ●ought for him in the last battle, and who now thought that all who knew him by those Arms would not fight against him neither with Bow, Arrow, Javelin or dart, nor fall upon him single; he therefore left off those gallant Arms, to the end he might not be known: Thus did he endeavour to show unto the world that none should conquer him in point of generosity: Sir, said I unto him (in the morning when he was putting on his Arms) will you hide all your gallant Acts in such obscure Arms as these? It is fit I should, Chrisantes (said he unto me) at this time, if I will show myself worthy of that Honour that is done me: But Sir (said I,) is it not to be feared that it will take away the hearts of your Soldiers, when they cannot distinguish you from that great number who are Armed as you are? If they follow me (answered he) they cannot choose but know me; and I intent to behave myself so, as it may be, they shall easily find me: At last, Sir, they fought, and Artamenes did such things as are not imaginable. Until now he fought but like a valiant man: but at this time it might very well be said, he fought like an incensed God; one would have thought he knew himself incapable of Wounds, seeing how he adventured himself: He drove their Squadrons on heaps, he broke their Ranks, and charged through and through their best composed bodies: nothing could resist him: In conclusion, he carried the matter so prodigiously, as he made both his friends and his enemies know him, notwithstanding his simple Arms, which were all sanguined with the blood which he had lost, and which running upon his Cuirass made him most terrible to look upon: His Buckler was all mangled with Arrows which fell upon it. The King of Pont meeting him in this condition, and easily knowing him: It is not my fault, Generous Artamenes, (cried he aloud unto him,) since I have done what was fit to preserve your Life: Nor is it my fault (answered Artamenes,) that your valour does not receive an advantage in my defeat, since I do all I can to make you Glorious; and do not spare a Life, which perhaps is more ways than one, an obstacle unto your victory and happiness. But valiant Prince, said he, we have contended long enough upon points of Generosity: Let us now try if we can fight as well as we can acknowledge a benefit, for I am much deceived, if we can otherwise overcome one another without dishonour: Upon these words the King of Pont would have replied something, but Artamenes making signs that he had rather fight then talk, did advance towards him; and then these two Gallant Men began a Combat, which perhaps had been very fatal to them both, if night and darkness had not against both their wills parted them, and by consequence had not left both their general and particular victories in doubt: yet notwithstanding the advantage did fall upon Artamenes side; for he lost few men, killed many, and took many Prisoners: But since the Combat was not ended when night came on, and since both of them remained upon the field in their Arms, it was difficult to say absolutely which side was loser, or which a gainer: yet it was partly a cause of taking the Town which Philidaspes besieged; because that after this the King of Ponts Army was not strong enough to be divided, nor venture to succour that Town, and come between both our Armies. The next morning Artamenes having intelligence, that two thousand men were upon the way on the Mountains which bordered upon that Plain betwixt Anisa and Cerasia, conducting Money unto the King of Ponts Army for payment of his Soldiers; he went to give a stop unto this Convey: so that meeting with them, he forced them into a valley environed with inaccessible Rocks, to shelter themselves; who seeing themselves brought into that straight condition, consulted what they should do; since if they fought, they were lost; and if they stayed there, it would be a loss unto their Master: so that to save themselves, and be rid of that ill condition, they beat a Parley, and sent twelve of their Company unto Artamenes, with their Bucklers full of gold and silver, entreating him to accept of that for their ransom, and let them depart: Artamenes who was always more heroic in all his actions then they could imagine, told them, that he would freely give them their lives and liberty, and also suffer them to pass with their Gold and Silver, so they would leave their Bucklers which held it, behind them, as marks of his Victory: But these stout and courageous Soldiers, throwing down all that was in their Bucklers upon the earth, and putting them upon their left Arms, taking their Swords in their right, You shall see (said they-turning away towards their Companions) that our Nation never use to leave their Bucklers but with their lives; and may be (what inequality soever there is between us) you shall never get them without danger of your own. Artamenes seeing the Soldiers carry it out so very bravely, was so charmed with a generous envy, as he could not resist them: And when he considered that he had got this advantage without honour, because he got it without danger; and that as the state of things were, an addition of two thousand men could not much alter the case: And seeing these twelve Soldiers go away in such a gallant resolution, Valiant men (cried he to them) come again, and take both your money, your Lives and your Liberties, which you so well deserve: you have overcome me, my Companions, said he to them, and if you had been in the last Battle, the King your Master had defeated us. These Soldiers were as much surprised with his Generosity, as he was with theirs, and knew not whether they should give any credit to his words: But at last they believed, and having acquainted their Captains with it, all shouted for joy and wonder, and made all the Rocks round about ring with the Name of Artamenes and his glory. Thus were these Gallant men released out of the valley which enclosed them; who when they came unto their Camp, did publish the Generosity of my Master's Name, for which the King of Pont sent a Trumpeter to thank him most heartily for his civility. But Sir, I never consider, how I abuse your Patience, nor how long those Passions which I resent for Artamenes have kept me; therefore let me reflect if you please upon the most important things of my Master's story. Winter drawing on when this last Battle was fought, and the Town which Philidaspes besieged being presently after taken, where Philidaspes behaved himself like a man of great Gallantry and prudence, and Ciaxares having had such happy success within the compass of eight months, he called off Artamenes and Philidaspes, who after they had settled all their Troops in their winter-Quarters, and seen their Enemy do the like, did come unto the King, who now returned unto Sinope. I need not tell you Sir how Artamenes and Philidaspes were entertained by the King and the Princess: for you may be assured that it was with as much civility and joy as their great services could deserve. As they were disposed when they took their leaves of the Princess, so they were the very same at their return; the first time that they saw Mandana at her chamber, there they met; It seemed by Feraulas who was there and well recovered of his wounds, that the Princess was displeased and angry, yet she showed nothing but such charms as were able to captivate the hearts of most rebellious Lovers; She diverted her Discourse after such an ingenious manner by her sweet complacence, which had nothing of affectation in it, that she gave them no occasion to renew those differences which passed between them in the last battle, of which the Princess was not ignorant. When you took your leaves of me (said she to them) I remember that I entreated you to look unto yourselves so well, as I might from your own mouths receive the particulars of the Victory; but now I will spare you that labour; for I have such an indisposition unto war that I do not love much to discourse of those glorious advantages which my father hath obtained by your valour: Never fear that I am ignorant of them, or that I will ever forget them. Fame doth court and love Artamenes so much, and doth not hate Philidaspes, that the least of your actions must needs be published: My soul is more ingenuous then to lose the memory of benefits: But truly I do much affect peace; the calm and quiet virtues do much better agree with my inclination then these lofty proud ones. That Prince then (Replied Artamenes) could be very unhappy, who hath a particular aim to please you, and could find out no other way to pay you service but by Sword, and Fire, and Blood. Questionless (added she) that a Prince who had nothing but valour, and good fortune in fight hath not in my opinion all the qualities necessary to deserve the esteem of a reasonable Princess. For if he have those only and no more, I should believe that a common ordinary esteem might well enough content him, but he ought not to pretend unto so high a degree as Love: What qualities then I beseech you Madam (replied Philidaspes) are requisite to purchase that favour of an illustrious and great Princess? It is requisite (answered she, if I be not deceived) that his valour be not too cruel: that he love victory better than blood, that his fury last no longer than fight: That he be ever civil: That he affect glory without pride, That he looked for it in such ways where he may find it; That sweetness and clemency be his predominant qualities: That he be very liberal, but liberal with discreet choice; That he be always grateful; That he do not envy the glory of another; That he be just unto his very enemies; That he be an absolute Master of his passions: That his conversation be not lofty or proud; That he be always faithful to his friends, and terrible to his enemies; and to speak all in one word, that he have all the virtues and none of the vices: You have reason Madam (replied Artamenes) to say that he ought to be exact in all, who deserves the affection of an illustrious Princess: But Madam, doubtless she must be such a one as resembles you, who without injustice can desire that perfection which is not to be found amongst men; and if she never confer her affection upon any but those who are worthy of it, than that treasure would never be enjoyed by any, though without question it be desired by all the Princes upon earth. I know not (said she) whether the affection of such a Princess as resembles me, be a thing so precious as to be called a Treasure; but I know very well that if she resemble me, her affection should not be easily obtained, since by a premeditated design I am resolved never to bestow any part of my Love lightly, but to fight against my own inclinations if they should offer to overcome me; I know not Madam, (said Philidaspes interrupting her) whether this hardness of heart be not as much to be condemned in your sex, as you conceive pride is in ours; I do not think it (said she,) if I did, I should perhaps change my mind: But whatsoever it be, to show that I am not unjust, I pray know that I am as liberal of my esteem as I am wary of my love, since truly I shall never refuse it unto my greatest Enemy when they shall deserve it; Imagine then (said she to Artamenes) if I do not only much esteem you but admire you for all those gallant acts which you have performed: And imagine Philidaspes (said she in turning towards him) if you have not much reason to pretend unto a great part of my Commendations for what you have done: Thus did this discreet and wise Princess entertain these two Gallants whom she perceived to be very ambitious and extremely jealous of their honours; and therefore she durst not aggravate the great actions of my Master, lest Philidaspes who seemed to be the more violent and hasty should be offended. Then they parted being very well pleased with Mandana's civilities, but much troubled to have it from her own mouth, that her affection was so hard to be obtained. It appeared that Philidaspes who was as amorous as Artamenes, and did entertain the same resentments, was a little more nettled than he, especially since throughout the Princess discourse he found many more obliging terms towards his Rival then himself: All this while Ciaxares thinks upon nothing but Feasts and public jollities. Astyages hearing of his Victories, sends to congratulate with him, and sent also a great Compliment unto my Master, reflecting upon his valour: The Court was never so full nor so glorious as now: All the Officers of the Army made Sinope their Rendezvous, and almost all the Ladies of Quality throughout both Kingdoms repaired thither: The presence of the Princess was free and open: there was not a day but the King went unto her Chamber, and by consequence every one had permission to enter: For since the King was very well acquainted with Mandanaes' virtue: He did permit men of Quality to enter into her presence, though he himself was not there, since the Lady of Honour her Governess, and all her other women were continually there, and never left her: So that it might be said Artamenes did seem to be very happy though indeed he was not: For he had the good fortune, during the time of his passion to get infinite honour, to serve Ciaxares most highly; to oblige the Princess most sensibly in saving the life of her father, and overcoming all his enemies, so that he might be almost assured of her esteem: But on the other side when he considered the austere virtue of the Princess, of which she made profession; he could never hope she would ever suffer either Artamenes or Cyrus to presume so boldly as to speak of Love: Moreover, the King of Pont and his Passion stirred up his jealousy; and the presence of Philidaspes was troublesome to him though he knew no reason for it: yet Artamenes and he lost not an inch of any opportunity to see the Princess; They followed her unto the Temple; They waited upon her into the Park and Walks; and visited her at all permitted hours; They neglected nothing that two men equally possessed with passion could do: But that which most amused my Master concerning Philidaspes, was, that besides his diligence about the Princess, one might see him always busy about Ciaxares and Aribees, and seemed to be so urgent in all his actions that my Master did suspect his ambition as well as his love, though he every moment thought him capable of both: In all matters of gallantry they were always opposite one to another; In all their opinions they differed: 'Tis true Artamenes had this advantage that he opposed Philidaspes without any show of humorousness in his mind, which his Rival could not brag of: For though really he was a very complete man, yet he was of a more violent, conceited and active temper: he was always too full of contradiction in his Discourse, and therefore not so plausible. Truth is, it appeared one night when they were with the Princess that he was not absolute Master of himself or thoughts, but suffered them sometimes to rove further than he would have them; There was then but few about her, and these two secret Lovers were there almost alone with her. After discourse upon many several Subjects, The Princess had a great desire if it were possible to unite them, to the end they might become more serviceable unto her Father, and beginning to discourse upon what might be the ordinary cause of friendship; I have wondered a hundred tunes (said she to Artamenes and Philidaspes) that I could never discover any great matter of friendship betwixt you two; for though I know you do esteem of one another very much, yet me thinks you love not one another so much as you should do: I mean (said she) that confident friendship and tenderness of affection which dare trust and tell all things unto him that is loved, and partake of one another's sorrows and joys. For you are both of you strangers, and both men of spirit, courage and generosity; You serve the same Prince, and you should love one another; for I believe your souls are too gallant to be capable of envy: If so, then how comes it to pass that you do not love as much as esteem one another? And why cannot I find that Union of soul betwixt you, which makes Friends reveal their hearts and secrets one to another? Perhaps Madam (answered Philidaspes) it is because we esteem too much to love one another also; And perhaps also it may be Madam (replied Artamenes,) that our secrets are of two great a consequence to be revealed unto any; I would therefore gladly know (replied the Princess, and that very precisely) what it is which doth disunite you; For I do confess I cannot find it out; For my part (continued she) I know but of two passions which can hinder gallant men from loving one another, those are Ambition and Love: As for the first of these, I do believe my Father is able to satisfy you both. As for the second, I can neither suspect that two men so generous as you are can be so weak, nor indeed do I see any appearance of it: And it may be that there is not one of my Women (said she smiling and looking upon them all) that hath not secretly chid her Beauty, because she has not fettered you, since you came to Court; where it is observed, that the inclination is not at all that way: Tell me, than (said she to them) I conjure you, and do not hide the truth of the matter from me; I leave you to judge Sir, in what a Labyrinth Artamenes and Philidaspes were no entangled: and what an odd chance this was, that the Princess should desire that thing which they could not tell her, and that which would have amazed her, if they should have assumed the boldness to have told what they knew, though neither of them in particular knew all they desired to know. For it is certain, that as yet she did not suspect any thing either of the Passion of Artamenes or Philidaspes: and that Artamenes and Philidaspes did hate one another rather by reason of certain secret jealousies which they had of their designs, than out of any certain knowledge of the truth. Yet the Princess, whose aim it was to act the most advantageously she could for the service of the King her Father, and to reconcile the minds of these two Men who were of such eminency, did very much press them, to tell her what was the obstacle which obstructed their friendship: Madam (answered Artamenes,) It will be a hard matter for me to tell you, since ordinarily I do not use to have any difference with those I esteem: As for me (replied Philidaspes,) I will go a little further than that, and say, I am never used to have any thing but difference with those I do not Love, whether I esteem or despise them: my Heart (said he) cannot rest in such a just Medium, between Love and hatred: and though I could, yet I should bias more to one side then the other: you make me much joyed (answered the Princess very hastily, lest Artamenes should make such a reply as should sharpen the spirit of Philidaspes,) for I never could suspect that he could hate such a man as Artamenes, who never offended you; whom all the Court knows; whom the King my Father does extremely Love, and whom I esteem very much: so Philidaspes (continued she, not giving him leave to speak) since doubtless you cannot hate Artamenes, I conclude that of necessity you must Love him a little: and if so, I hope that I shall not have no hard task to make you Love him much: for, said she, in turning towards Artamenes, Doubtless you will never resist me, nor ever disagree with Philidaspes, who is owner of a hundred excellent Qualities, and whom the King my Father esteems infinitely; he who certainly Loves you a little, and who deserves the approbation of those who are more knowing than I am: And, added she, if there be any prevalency in my Prayers, you shall, for the Love of me, carry it so for the future, that the whole Court shall take notice of the good correspondence which is betwixt you, and no more wonder at the coldness which appears in all your actions, and in all your words, the cause whereof every one is most ignorant. Perhaps Madam, answered Philidaspes, we know it not ourselves: But, said the Princess, whether you know it, or know it not; I hope you will do as I desire you: The Gods, Madam (said Artamenes,) for aught I see, are not so rigorous as you, since they allow us liberty to Love or hate those whom we judge worthy of either: Be pleased to be satisfied Madam with that Lawful Authority which your rare Qualities have given you over the hearts of all them who have the honour to come near you; and do not Tyrannically (if that which I owe you will permit me to phrase it so) impose upon Philidaspes, to Love Artamenes compulsively: nor upon Artamenes to Love Philidaspes, whether he will or no: If they will at any time Love, let them have the freedom of their own choice entire, and take not from them the Merit of their Affection: And if they will eternally hate one another, (replied Philidaspes,) let them have the liberty to do it, without any just offence to you. That cannot possibly be (replied she,) for I esteem both of you too much to suffer it. Why Madam, said Artamenes to her (and changing colour,) Cannot I hate Philidaspes, unless I do anger the Princess Mandana? No, said she, nor Philidaspes hate Artamenes, without offending me extremely, since I have so desired of him the contrary. We are both of us then, very happy, and very unhappy, replied Philidaspes: and you shall be both of you very reasonable, if you will Love one another, for the Love of me. This is not possible, replied Philidaspes. Indeed Madam, answered Artamenes, I think it would be much more easy for us, to hate one another for the Love of you, then to Love one another for the Love of you; for, said he, both of us aiming at Glory as we do, and seeking out all occasions to eminent ourselves by obtaining the esteem and friendship of the King, if you should bias more unto Philidaspes then unto Artamenes, I think that Artamenes though he durst not complain of you, yet he would hate Philidaspes a little: And I myself think (replied this violent Prince,) that though it should happen so to me, Philidaspes would content himself with esteeming Artamenes without any Loving him. The Princess was then very sorry she had undertaken a business, which she found much more hard to compose than she believed; therefore she thought it better to end this discourse then continue it any longer. Then she begun to speak unto them with abundance of excellent sweetness; at least, said she, will you Promise me to live together as if you did Love one another; and that you will not contradict one another in any thing? Philidaspes (answered Artamenes) seems to be so zealous in the King's service and yours, Madam, and I also the like, that it may be imagined, there will be always much concurrency in all our designs: I know (replied Philidaspes) that at the least we shall meet one another very often: And I think that ever since the first day Artamenes arrived in Cappadocia, I have every day seen him. It is true that I met you at the Temple of Mars (answered Artamenes) the same day I came to Sinope: What day was that (asked the Princess?) It was the same (answered Philidaspes,) whereon you offered a Sacrifice of Thanks unto the Gods, for the Death of that Prince who would have subverted all Asia, and usurped your Crown from you; I remember it very well (said the Princess, desiring to break off the former discourse,) and I never in all my life, had so little devotion to render thanks unto the Gods for a Benefit as I had that day; not but that according to the Predictions of all the Magis, the Ruin of young Cyrus was a happy fate for all Asia; but because that naturally, I ever had such a repugnancy in me against rejoicing at the death of any one, as that I had need to have a great interest in the Public Felicity if I consent unto it. Why Madam (answered my Master, blushing a little,) are you so good as not to hate Cyrus? How (said Philidaspes interrupting him, who always would be of a contrary opinion) Can she hate a Prince whom she never saw; and who is her Cousin, and who, as I am assured, was one of much merit? therefore it was neither reasonable nor possible to hate him: But (answered my Master) it seems you told me, that he would have subverted all Asia, and usurped the Crown from the Princess: But I said it (replied Philidaspes sharply) because the Magis said so, without seeing any appearances of it. Cyrus (answered my Master very coldly) would be much obliged to you if he were living: but not very much to you, replied Philidaspes, who would have him hated when he is dead. Since the King my Father (said the Princess to them) has both you about him, who are such gallant Defendors, in his Service, I believe it had not been easy for Cyrus to destroy us. This opinion, Madam, answered my Master, is a great Glory to us. I should have acknowledged as much, replied Philidaspes, if she had named none but me. I shall leave you to judge Sir, what effects this discourse did beget in my Master's spirit: but as he was about to reply, the King came in, and broke off further discourse. After he had stayed a while with Mandana, he went out to walk by the Sea side, and every one followed him. As ill luck would have it, Aribees held the King in a long private discourse, so that Artamenes and Philidaspes turned to each other, and took a walk by themselves: and since they came out from the Princess with exasperated spirits, so they were a little while silent, both of them questionless recalling unto memory all that passed: Did ever any one see such cross Fortune as mine (said Artamenes to himself) Mandana would force me to Love Philidaspes, who Loves not me; who is opposite to all my designs; who contradicts all my discourse; whom I always find about the Princess; who looks upon me with envy, and perhaps is my Rival. This last reflection imprinting itself very deep in his soul, did move anger to appear very high in his looks; and I, who was not far off, observed it; I think his enemy also, had very near the same thoughts: at length I perceived Philidaspes and he change colours both together at an instant; and by their musing study which both stood in, I perceived them to be very angry and choleric: After they had stood a while without speaking a word, and standing at distance once from the other; Artamenes on a sudden rousing himself out of his musing, saw that the King and the company was a good distance ●ff, and remembering what Philidaspes had said in the Princess presence; You have reason, said he, to say that we meet very often, since without any design we are met here single together in the midst of so much people: ay I care not much (replied Philidaspes briskly) for meeting here in a walk; but I must confess to you, I do not love to meet you near the King, or the Princess, or in a Battle when I am upon the point of taking King's Prisoners. For my part, replied Artamenes, I have no such aversion from meeting you; and I should be glad to find you in the head of an Enemy's Army, where we might dispute the Victory, and show you how to take Kings prisoners in such a way as would be glorious. There needs not, answered Philidaspes, an Army of fifty thousand men to give you that satisfaction which you desire, and if you desire it, I shall easily satisfy your longing. It shall stick only upon you, replied Artamenes; and lest the pretensions which you have at the Court should hinder you from giving me this satisfaction, or oblige you to repent of what you have said, Let us to morrow morning before Sun rise, see whether the Princess have reason to desire that Philidaspes should love Artamenes, and Artamenes love Philidaspes. I like it well, answered he, and take heed lest the Honours which you have from the King, and the respects you bear unto the Princess do make you alter your resolutions: Therefore, replied Artamenes, Let us meet behind the Temple of Mars, where I will stay for you with a Sword by daybreak: Mean while I think it good to follow the King, lest any suspicion should be of our design. After this they appeared before the King, and carried the matter so well, as none did dream of any thing which passed between them: I myself, who as I said before, had observed some disorders in their faces, was deceived like the rest: And I had been so often accustomed to see alterations in his countenance without any misfortunes to follow, that I by this could not foresee that which followed. At night, when Artamenes was retired, he shut himself in his closet with Feraulas, unto whom he imparted his design, because he had need of his help to get him out unseen. Feraulas, as he told me, did dissuade him, laying before him the inequality which was betwixt Philidaspes and him, whose condition was so much inferior, as that there was no justice they should measure Swords together. But my Master answered him, that Artamenes did appear to be no more than Philidaspes; and that in Combats valour was to be more valued than quality: At last he told him, that he should fight better against a valiant Soldier, than a great cowardly King. Nevertheless Sir, although the business which Artamenes had in hand, might well have taken up all his thoughts, yet it did not hinder him from telling unto Feraulas all the discourse which passed betwixt the Princess, Philidaspes and himself: And his Passion did so much reflect upon his soul, as that he stood firm in the midst of greatest dangers. What should be Mandanaes' design, said he to Feraulas, in so earnestly desiring that Philidaspes and I should love one another? Was it only a bare effect of her wisdom and goodness? or was it some secret good will that she bore unto Artamenes or Philidaspes? Has she seen into my heart, and there found all those jealousies which cause my aversion to love him? But alas, if she had done so, she would have seen that I adored her, and would not have been ignorant of those Passions which I endure for her, and would have been far off from commanding me to love him; I conceive she would rather have commanded me not to come near him: Oh ye Gods, said he, How should I know whether it be only Ambition in him, or whether he be in Love? Whatsoever he be, I hope the Princess is ignorant of his Passion as well as of mine; that which she said unto us in the beginning of her discourse, tells me as much. I believe you too Generous, said she, to suspect any such weakness in you. Ha Mandana, Illustrious Mandana, said he, this weakness is glorious, and it must be a great soul only which is capable of it: But is it possible, said he further, that my eyes, and all my actions have not yet given you the least suspicion of my Love? Do you not conceive that all my Martial adventures, and acts which I have done, were done for you? Has any seen me ask any recompense for what I have done? or had I any interest of my own in it? And cannot Mandana, the most divine Mandana imagine that some Passion more noble than Ambition, did move Artamenes to his Adventures? Nevertheless Feraulas, said he, this amiable and Princess, who is so far from having the least knowledge of it, did add this unto her discourse, And it may be there is not one of my women that has not secretly chid her beauty, because it has not captivated you, since you came to this Court, where every one observed that your inclination was not that way. Ah, too unjust Princess, said he, Why did you not observe it? and why did you not rather say in yourself, Since Artamenes does not love any in the Court, doubtless he lives me: But al●s, said he, Mandana tells me by this discourse, that she would not have me to be her Conquest; and that she thinks she has done me honour enough in selling me, that the beauty of her women might have captivated me. Sir, said Feraulas unto him, this is only Artamenes who hath received this slight injury. It is true, replied he, But dare Artamenes be Cyrus? Can he cease to be Artamenes and not be hated? Ah cruel word (cried he again) what abundance of sorrow, and despair dost thou afford me? I wish Mandana knew I loved her, but I would not be the teller of it: and by what means can she ever know it, if she busy herself in seeking about the Court for one to captivate me, and if she never apprehend; that none can look upon her, but needs must love her? and that though Artamenes be only Artamenes, having a heart so great as he has, he cannot abase himself to love elsewhere. That which gives me a little comfort is, she treats my pretended Rival no better than she does me; and that through all her discourse, her words were more favourable towards Artamenes then him. If I had been well assured he had been my Rival, my sorrows would have been my death, and my symptoms of jealousy would have discovered my Love unto my Princess; in short Sir, Artamenes talked with Feraulas as if he had nothing to do in the morning; but seeing he never thought of bed, he put him in mind of it, and my Master followed his advice, rising in the morning by break of day. I had forgot to tell you, that Philidaspes and my Master had agreed to fight on Horseback, without any other Arms but one Buckler, and one Sword, lest their design should be discovered, and that either of them should have one Esquire with them, to be spectators of the Combat. Feraulas went out with Artamenes: as soon as they were ready they went out at a back door, and stole away quietly, not being seen by any: They came upon the place appointed half an hour before Philidaspes: Here Sir, Artamenes did begin very much to fear the Princess displeasure, who when she should hear of a quarrel so soon after her desires to love one another, had just cause of offence; yet this strong aversion which he had towards Philidaspes, was more prevalent than his fears, and concluded it better to expose himself once unto the displeasure of his Princess, than not to be revenged of a Rival: He looked for Philidaspes with much impatience: But he presently appeared, and perceiving my Master stayed for him, I desire your pardon Artamenes, said he, for coming no sooner, but I will endeavour to make satisfaction for my sluggishness, by that diligence which I bring with me to vanquish you if I can. I hope, replied Artamenes, that mine will prevent you, and we shall presently know whether we should love or hate one another. After this, both drew their Swords, and after they had either of them made a pass with their Horses, as it were to put them into wind; they than stayed a while opposite one to another to take their measures, and seat themselves in their saddles; after which they fell too't, and struck so furiously as both of them had like to have fallen: Philidaspes his Sword did glide upon the Buckler of Artamenes; and the Sword of Artamenes did graze a little upon the right side of Philidaspes: Their Horses which were ready guided, did not startle at a charge so violent, and these two terrible Rivals turning short both together, did endeavour to croupper each other if they could, but they were both so quick, and fought with so much judgement, as it was not possible for either to do it: Then giving the rain to their Horses, and making a second Pass, the Sword of Artamenes the second time light upon the head of Philidaspes, and gliding down to his shoulder, gave him two wounds at one blow; the Sword of Philidaspes also was stained with the blood of Artamenes, and run him into the thigh through and through: My Master perceiving himself wounded, became more furious; and Philidaspes seeing his blood run in divers places, did double his choler. Behold here Sir, these two fierce enemies as much animated, as if both of them had known each others qualities and loves: All that skill, strength and valour could do, was done at this time: Artamenes pressed upon his enemy; his enemy upon Artamenes again: Sometimes they would shift and husband their strength warily, then upon a sudden they would vanquish or die; and both did dispute the victory so stoutly, that they began to esteem, though not Love one another much more than before: But without troubling you with relation of every particular passage of this fierce Combat, I will only tell you, that my Master wounded Philidaspes in six places, and received but three wounds himself: Being in this condition, Artamenes began to be desperate to see himself so long resisted: and casting his Buckler behind him, putting on his Horse with spur and voice, and lifting up his Sword as high as his arm could reach, he let it drive at the head of Philidaspes so terribly that it bore him down half in a sound, between the feet of their Horses, catching his Sword into his hand as he fell. My Master lighted immediately from his Horse, and holding both Swords in his hands, did run unto him, and cried, Philidaspes, if thou canst rise I will permit thee, and render thee thy Sword; but if thou canst not, then acknowledge that Artamenes is worthy to be thy friend. Philidaspes as these words recovering out of his sound, did offer to rise, but he could not possible: so that looking upon my Master with his eyes like fire, Thou hast overcome me, answered he, kneeling, but thou shalt not overcome me always, if thou be'st so humane as to let me live: In this condition they were, when Aribees accidentally returned from hunting, and followed by many people, who seeing my Master with a Sword in his hand, came up to them, not well knowing whom it should be: As soon as he was come near, and saw my Master, he was astonished, especially when he saw Philidaspes whom he had overcome. What Artamenes, said he to him, you fight then with the King's friends as well as his enemies: I will fight, answered he, with the King's enemies wheresoever I meet them, and I will also fight with the enemies of Artamenes in what place soever I meet them. My Master then turning towards Philidaspes; who was at death's door for very spite and grief to be seen in this posture, wherein he could not stir; Philidaspes (said he to him, throwing him his Sword) thou hast used it too well to be deprived of it; and if thou be'st as full of Reason as Valour, thou wilt never put me to that condition as to do thee the like favour again. Artamenes not staying for his answer, would have got up upon his Horse, but he stood in need of Feraulas his help, for his loss of blood had extremely weakened him, yet being a very little held up, he kept himself very firm in his saddle. But it was not so well with Philidaspes, for he was very much wounded, and carried by five or six men unto the next house, there to have his wounds dressed. Aribees' leaving some of his men with him, and having given order for some of the King's Surgeons to have a care of him, he went to acquaint Ciaxares with the accident: as for Artamenes, he would not go publicly into the Town, but went unto the Sacrificer, with whom he had discourse the first time he came unto the Temple of Mars, having since that time confirmed a great league of friendship between them. As soon as he was there, and had taken order concerning his wounds, he sent Feraulas unto the King and the Princess to desire their pardon, and to beseech them not to condemn him before they understood the matter.  
As Chrisantes was about to go on with his Relation, the King of Phrygia came in, who coming from Ciaxares, interrupted this Relation, and told all this illustrious company that the Prince did continue still inflexible, and that he was every day more and more incensed against Artamenes: Alas (said the King of Hyrcania, and all the rest of the Princes who had heard Chrisantes tell the story) if you did but know who this Artamenes is, whom you speak of, you would much more lament him then you do: It would be very hard for me (replied the King of Phrygia) to be more sorry for him then I am, for I have so great esteem of him already, that I cannot interest myself in the preservation of so brave a man, more than I have: But you will change your thoughts (answered the King of Hyrcania) when you shall rightly know who Artamenes is: And you will confess (added Persodes) that never was Prince more illustrious than he: A Prince (replied the King of Phrygia hastily) yes Sir (replied Hidaspes) and one of the most considerable Princes of the world. After these words, the King of Phrygia was very urgent with them to inform him further: Then all of them would needs tell him something of it: One would tell him of his birth; another would extol his valour; a third would relate some particulars of his love; and all of them, according as passages did most move them, would needs set out the illustious life of Artamenes. Chrisantes seeing this forwardness amongst so many famous persons, although thus confusion was very glorious unto his dear Master, since it was but an effect of their passions towards him, did entreat them to defer the business until another time; he himself undertaking to relate the beginning of this History unto the King of Phrygia particularly, to the end that afterwards they might altogether meet, and hear the marvellous sequel of it, from the relation of Feraulas, who was better known in it then himself; he being younger and more employed in all the Passages of my Master's love. All the Princes did consent unto the reasonable motion which Chrisantes had propounded: yet notwithstanding they could not part so soon, but continued a good while together extolling the unfortunate Artamenes, and magnifying equally his virtues; his misfortunes, and his Glory.   
The end of the second Book in the first Part.   

ARTAMENES: OR CYRUS the Great. BOOK III.  
WHilst these two famous Friends of Artamenes discoursed of his great misfortunes and high qualities: he in the mean time rendered himself worthy of more praise than they did give him, enduring his Prison with most admirable patience. The uncertainty of the Princess life was the only disturbance of his soul; but his Captivity was too inconfiderable to move it at all. To speak the truth, never man was more in Love than he; this did so extremely torment him, as there was no need of any other passion to be added. When he called in his memory the wonderful events of his Life; and remembered how many dangers he had escaped; what love he had purchased from Ciaxares; what services he had done for Mandana, and what Passions he endured for her: what obstacles he had met with in his designs; how quiet a life he might have led, if he continued in Persia; what Travels he has undergone; how gloriously Fortune had shined upon him; what illustrious Rivals he had met withal; what famous Victories he had obtained, and into what a sad misfortune he was now reduced; All these, I say, coming confusedly into his mind, he had much a do to give credit unto himself; nor when he was alone solitarily in his chamber, he knew not well whether he was Cyrus or Artamenes, or either of them; but he was sure that he was the most unhappy Prince upon earth, who without some extraordinary assistance from the Gods could never hope for any satisfaction in his Life. The absence of the party beloved (said he to himself) is, in the esteem of all the world, the worst misfortune. But alas, I am not separated for a time only, but I fear, for ever: When I was in the Army, I knew she was at Ancyra or Sinope: I knew she was well; I was certain she was in pleasant company, and a delightful place, so that than my absence from her did not vex me; I had none but my own sorrows to endure, and my only sorrow was, to be absent from her: The Gods do know my grief, and how the deprivation of her sight was intolerable to me: But alas, alas, I am now in a most lamentable condition; for I know that my Princess is either dead, or else in the barbarous hands of some who detains her against her will; I am most certain she is either in her grave or in a prison: And in what place soever she is, I know she suffers, and doubtless pities my misfortunes; yet (said he) if I could with honour shake off my fetters, I would find out either her Tomb or her Prison; for the Sea, according to its custom, would render me this fair Corpse either alive or dead: I would either die with her in the one, or deliver her out of the other; And it would be a greater consolation to me in my misfortunes to do so, then to languish out my life in prison, where I endure an unjust accusation, not daring to justify myself; not because I should appear unto Ciaxares more criminal as a Lover of Mandana, then as a friend unto the King of Assiria; not because it is a crime whereby Artamenes is dishonoured, but rather it is infinite honour unto him, and because the honour of my Princess is infinitely above my own: that severe virtue whereof she makes profession, always forbidding me to give the least suspicion of my love unto any whatsoever; and therefore I will die a thousand deaths rather than let the least shadow of it appear; Not that (O my most illustrious Princess) you have any reason to make me hide my Love as if it were vicious; or conceal any of your favours to me, as if they were not correspondent with your virtue: for indeed what have you ever done for Artamenes which you had not good reason for? or which might contradict your purest innocence? you have oftentimes rigidly denied yourself and me, and hid some part of your good will towards me, you never gave me any more testimonies of it then such as by some weak conjectures I could draw, that you did not hate me; you have oftentimes deprived me even of your very looks; you have warily reserved your very words; and all that I can say of you is, that you had the power to destroy me, but did not: But O ye gods, Can you have such a thought as to ruin a man who loves you? A Prince who hath concealed all his desires from you, who stifled them in their birth, and never durst desire any thing which might offend the purest virtue? A Prince I say who adores you as men adore the gods, and who hath devoted unto you every minute of his life; yet for all this, it is your pleasure I should keep close my passion, and that to me is an absolute command: Therefore I am resolved never to discover my Princess: I will look for death without complainr, and never reveal the true cause of all my sorrows; Thus did the Amorous Artamenes pass his time: He had this benefit in his prison, that his Keepers did both lament and respect him; so that if he had been disposed to make an escape, he might easily have done it: Andramias who commanded the Guard was a near kinsman unto Aglatidas, who bore so great a Love unto Artamenes, that he neglected nothing which was in his power to deliver him: Besides this alliance which was between Andramias and Aglatidas, there was some other Obligations which tied Aglatidas unto him; so that he permitted Aglatidas to visit Artamenes when he pleased. It happened one night when all were retired to their Lodgings, that Aglatidas went unto his Chamber, and offered him all his assistance; He spoke unto him of some ways which conduced unto his flight if he pleased: Artamenes, did thank him very civilly, but told him that he would never come out of prison, unless by the same power which put him in; he said that guilty men might do well to slip out of their chains, but innocent men ought to stay till they were untied, and therefore he desired him to rest satisfied concerning that matter, and not to hazard the King's displeasure for the love of him: He told him that it would be a very great comfort unto him to see him sometimes, especially since his melancholic disposition did best suit with his present fortune; but that it was not just to permit him for his sake to run into danger; Aglatidas then answered Artamenes, that he found no such joy in his life as to fear the exposing it, but in this he did not run any hazard at all, because first the King had not strictly forbid the seeing of him; Secondly, Andramias being his Friend, his Cousin, and one that was obliged unto him, it was no extraordinary courtesy to let him visit his friend: Also his Chamber being within the Chamber of Andramias, so by consequence far enough off from the Guard, he might conveniently visit him often without being perceived and might afford him that poor comfort to have one with him, who might condole his misfortunes. Artamenes denied him, but Aglatidas was so urgent, that in the end he permitted him to come every night in into his chamber. There was none more fit to comfort an unfortunate man than Aglatidas, who was always sad even then when any joy appeared in the faces of them who were in his Company: This Noble melancholy man came one night unto Artamenes, and after they had a long time discoursed of the mutability in Fortune, and miseries of life, they both of them were a long while silent. Aglatidas who knew nothing of his love, and who desired to cheer him up a little, spoke thus unto him: Sir (said he) I see you are unfortunate, yet for all that you are not so unfortunate but one may possibly be much more: That Grandeur which you have lost, may easily be found again: It is a common thing for a Prince to pass from a Throne to a Prison, and from a Prison to a Throne again: There are many misfortunes which seem less glorious are yet more sensible; and the more close they are kept, the more are they insupportable: You have this sad comfort at the least (said he) that all the world laments you: and such great falls as yours do move compassion in all honest men. On the contrary there are misfortunes of such a dire nature, as they are not pitied by any; and are so far from inviting compassions as they who endure them are accused of weakness, of folly and simplicity: So that to prevent the growth or increase of our misfortunes and sorrows, we must stifle our sighs, and hide our Tears, or at least never to publish the cause of our afflictions. Artamenes hearing Aglatidas talk thus, did imagine that the sad melancholy which continually sat upon his soul, and appeared in his face, was doubtless caused by love, though he never did discover it before this time. As curiosity to inquire after the misfortunes of such as have resemblance of our own, is a quality incident to all unfortunate men; So Artamenes sighing and looking upon Aglatidas, Is it not possible (said he to him) that your melancholy which I have ever thought to proceed from your natural temper, may have some other secret cause which yet I never asked you? Yes Sir, Replied Aglatidas, there is one, but it is of such a nature as I ought to conceal it from such as you whose souls perhaps are sensible only of ambition and glory, who having never found the force of Love, would call all those things which the passion produceth, folly and weakness, as I said before, Never fear (answered Artamenes, sighing the second time) that my virtue is so severe as you believe; for though my unhappy life be not yet far spent, yet in so many travels as I have gone through, perhaps I have not been altogether insensible of that passion: Therefore my Dear Aglatidas, (said he to him) if you have any desire to comfort me in my misfortunes, let me not be ignorant of yours, and I do conjure you not to think but my soul shall be very sensible of them, and though I am overwhelmed with my own sorrows, yet I shall make shift to condole yours also. Aglatidas did a while deny him, but at last being overcome by his importunity, and by the persuasions of Andramias, who had been a witness of his misfortunes, he began thus, after that the Captain of the Guards had given all requisite Orders to prevent either discovery or interruption.  

The History of Aglatidas and Amestris.  
I Have often heard say that Love above all other passions does most fortify or most enfeeble men, according unto the occasions which present themselves: and that it never doth so absolutely subdue a soul, but it leaves some Relics of its ancient dominion: but yet it is not so in my heart; this general rule, hath its exception in me; for since Love commanded in chief, it hath quite rooted out all ambition, it hath absolutely extinguished all desires of glory, and left no other resentments but jealousy and sorrow. I will not stay you Sir, in telling that I am descended from the illustrious Race of famous Aglatidas, (whose Name I own) who did such gallant acts under the Reign of Phraortes, in his Persian, Medean, and Assyrian Wars; for perhaps you do already know them: I will only tell you, how since that time all they of my Family have always held the first Rank (next after the Princes of blood) about the King: I was born then Sir in a high condition; and I dare say of myself that my inclinations have not degenerated from the worthiness of my birth. I had a father, whose indulgent cares did doubtless give me good education; and if Love had not given a stop unto what he expected from me, perhaps I should at this day have been much above what I am. I no sooner attained unto my seventeenth year, but having a desire to get some esteem in the world, and seeing all was peace in Medea, I went unto the King of Saces, Father of Prince Mazares, who has suffered shipwreck, where I dare say of myself that in a little time I got some honour: But after his wars were ended, and peace was established throughout all Asia, I was compelled after two years spent among the Saceans, and in my Travels, to return unto Ecbatan, which as you know is one of the goodliest, most magnificent, and most delightful places in the world. I arrived there some few days after. Astyages received news of the death of young Cyrus, son to the King of Persia, and the Princess his daughter. Then I know you have been Sir so long in Cappadocia as you cannot be ignorant of all the passages in Medea: of the menaces of the gods, of the fears and frights of Astyages, and of the joy which he conceived for that security which all Asia hoped for by the death of that Prince, who, as men say, did promise mighty matters unto the world: I came then to the Court in a time of great jollity and feasting, and there I stayed a while with all delight imaginable: The King never hunted but I was with him; There was never any meeting of Ladies but I was sure to be there; I wore rich clothes, and recreated myself in the pleasant walks: And as you know there is not a more delightful place upon Earth then the King's Palace, and Gardens at Ecbatan, so there was not one day which did not afford me fresh delights: The King was pleased to take more notice of me than I deserved. I got the love of all the young Gallants in the Court, and if I durst say it, there was none of the Ladies which did hate me; for as my design was general to please all, so it had been a hard matter to have displeased any one in particular. Thus did I enjoy my youth and liberty with abundance of satisfaction: Whenas Artambaces who as perhaps you know had heretofore been in love with the Queen of Persia, before she was married unto Cambyses Father of Cyrus (of whom I speak, and who going from the Court upon that occasion, was afterwards married in the Province of Arisantine unto the daughter of a great Prince in that Country, and who went away from Ecbatan, and carried with him his only daughter about fifteen years of age, whom he loved extremely, and who doubtless did deserve as much.) It chanced so at that time, being glutted with variety of pleasures, and weary of the tumultuous court, I took Horse (being waited upon by only one servant) to go and enjoy my solitude, at a fair House which my Father had some thirty miles from Ecbatan: I departed very melancholy and lumpish, not knowing any cause for it at all, my design being only to recreate myself in viewing the Pictures, Statues, Gardens, Grotts, and Fountains about my Father's House, that thereby I might make my conversation more pleasant at my return to the Town. But alas Sir, little did I think what would hap unto me in this Voyage; I have often wondered since at the pains which I took to captivate myself, and how I found out a way which lead me into such a Labyrinth of trouble as hath disquieted all my life, When I came into a great high way a hundred paces of the Castle, I saw a chariot overturned which was quite broken in pieces; the magnificence of it did tell me that it belonged unto some person of quality; but since there was no Grooms about this Chariot of whom I could inquire, I went on: being come unto the first Gate of the Castle, the Porter who opened the Gate told me that Artambaces whose Name and Quality I knew very well, coming from the Country to Ecbatan, had the misfortune to break one of his Chariots, and seeing he could travel no further that day, desired to stay there that night whilst his Chariot was repaired: The Porter told no more than that Artambaces was there, but mentioned not a word of Hermanista his wife, or Amestris his daughter; So after I had given order for the best entertainment possible, I went strait into the Garden, where I was told he was: But Sir, I was much amazed, when crossing a Quarter in the Garden, I saw in a green Arbour the fairest Lady that ever eye did look upon, and whom I did not know at all; for Amestris had never been at Court: This beauty was no less surprised to see me, than I to meet her in that place: For she thinking there had been none in the house but Servants, she little expected there one of my Garb: It was very hot, and she had none with her but one of her women; she had pulled off her Cypress, wherein she used to cover her fair neck; and being bore armed, she lay negligently upon a bed of green grass, her head lying upon the knees of that woman, which was with her: I no sooner saw her but I stopped, and as soon as ever she perceived me, she started up and put on her Cypress: we both did blush at the passage; but certainly it was out of different apprehensions, modesty causing that in her which Love did in me: For Sir, the first minute of this fatal view was the first minute of my Passion; yet, notwithstanding all my unparallelled astonishment and wonder, I saluted the adored Amestris with much devotion; and beginning discourse, Madam (said I, to let her know who I was) I did not think to find such fair and pleasing company in my Father's House; and if I had known that such an one as you had been in the Arbour, the reverence I owe unto such as you seem to be (though I think there is not such another in the world) would have taught me better manners then to disturb your rest. Sir (answered she) it belongs to me to desire pardon for interrupting the pleasure of your solitude, which it seems you came to take in this pleasant place: But Sir, (said she in beginning to walk on) It is my Father's part to make excuses for the freedom which he took upon him to lodge with you to night, since an unexpected piece of luck did force him to it: Seeing than that her design was to conduct me to her Father, I presented her my hand, and easily observed by this first address, that she had a desire to make me know who she was: for there appeared in all her actions so much gallantry, spirit and modesty, as I saw she was Mistress of as much Soul as Beauty. Madam (said I, conducting her, and answering unto what she said) it is a great happiness to be interrupted by such an one as you; and I think there is no reasonable man, who would not for such a blessedness not only quit his solitude but the Court also with all its magnificence and pleasures: I always looked for Flattery (said she smiling) out of Ecbatan, and perhaps I shall well enough defend myself against it here; but I do confess unto you that I do fear it a little here where I did not think to be assaulted. When you came into the Arbour where I was, I was commending unto my woman whom you saw with me, the innocency of these woods, and the honest simplicity of our Country, but for aught I see the dominion of Flattery extends itself further than I imagined, since there is no safety for humility and modesty within thirty miles of Ecbatan; If you should Madam (replied I) forbid all those praises which without doubt the Court will pay you, then certainly you must forbid your own knowledge, and be ignorant that you are the fairest beauty in the world. By this time we were approached so near Artambaces and Hermanista his wife, as in lieu of her answer, she told him who I was, and obliged me as was fit, to present my Compliment unto them: they made many excuses for the freedom which they had taken; I professed that my Father was much obliged unto them for it; and that for my own particular I took it for an infinite honour: they answered me with the like civility; and their conversation stood too much upon Ceremony: so dangerous it is to stay long in the Country from the Court: After this they began to commend the hansomeness of the Gardens and Fountains. And Amestris did like the beauty of the place so well, that she could not believe Ecbatan had any place could please her better: although she heard many wonderful reports of it. Artambaces enquired concerning Court-news, and was satisfied in a hundred things whereof he was ignorant before, because they happened since his departure: I had the happiness to find a great disposition in Artambaces and Hermanistra to affect me: As for Amestris I was well satisfied to find some hopes that she woule not hate me: And since she was of an excellent judgement, knowing there was much difference between the Court and the Countrey-Tone, she would speak but little, and with much moderation, being resolved to reserve herself until such time as Ecbatan▪ had a little glossed her, before she would suffer her charming soul to shine. And it was a secret which many who come out of the Country unto the Court, may make good use of, if they desire to get esteem there; for their manners, customs, and fashions are so contrary, that let these new comers do what they can, they will run into many absurdities, if they talk much, and the more they expose themselves the more they become ridiculous. Amestris therefore kept her first conversation very reserved: but yet it was impossible to hide those rare qualities wherewith she was adorned. During one day and a half that Artambaces stayed at my Father's house, I gazed so long upon the splendour of Amestris Beauty, as I was dazzled: I wondered at the cleanness of her accent; the sweetness of her expression; with what a natural eloquence she spoke: I admired also at the solidity of her judgement, the gallantry of her spirit; the quickness of her wit; the complacence of her humour, and the charms of her discretion in reserving herself. During the time that these welcome guests were there, I studied all the diversions I could devise to entertain them: I carried them to hunt in a Park which was behind the Garden; I led them into all the shady Walks in the heat of the day; where, what with the Singing of the Birds, the noise of the Fountains, the curiosity of the flowery Borders, the Statues and Pictures in the Galleries, and my converse, I gave some satisfaction to these illustrious persons, who assured me they thought themselves welcome. After than Sir I had treated them with all the magnificence I could possible, they resolved to depart; but it was not in my power to stay there any longer, though I came with intentions to stay seven or eight days; I told Artambaces I would be his guide, and go to blaze the apparition of that bright Star unto the Court, (pointing at Amestris;) she blushed at the phrase, and replied without pride or affectation. The Chariot being put into order, we parted; I took Horse, and kept continually on that side where Amestris did sit: and all the way I did as I did the first minute I saw her, to wit, look upon her, and adore her with so much delight and satisfaction, as I thought it impossible there should be so many vexations in Love was talked of: My eyes, my heart, my thoughts, my soul, and all, was upon Amestris: But all this while I found myself so tranquil, and so pleasingly contented, that I believed this kind of Love which I bore unto this excellent beauty, was no other than such as men use to have unto all beautiful objects: I did find that I had nothing else in any admiration; and as I know that I had never seen any thing so beautiful, so I wondered not at any thing else: I did infinitely joy to see her; to have the honour to be near her and hear her speak: Thus did we pass on the time and the way from my Father's house until we came at Ecbatan. During which interval I acquainted Amestris with all the delights and diversions of the Court; She asked what Ladies had the Empire in matter of beauty, and who were esteemed the best wits: And a hundred such Questions as these, which Artambaces or Hermanista or Amestris do put unto me; She knew the Court before she came there: at last we arrived at Ecbatan, and went unto the ancient Palace of Artambaces which is one of the fairest there: I suppose Sir, that you do well remember, how this famous Town hath seven walls one within another, that the battlements for distinguishment are all of several heights; And to make the object more magnificent unto the eye of those who behold them, they are painted all with several colours; those of the sirst were white; those of the second height black; those of the third red, the fourth blue, the fifth orange, the sixth silvered, and the seventh gilt: And Sir, be pleased to know, that within the circuit of this last wall was the Palace of the King of Medes, ever since the famous Deiocus did build these proud walls; and within the circuit of that wall next it were the Palaces of those persons which were of the highest quality: The Palace of Artambaces was between the wall with golden battlement, and that with silver; and as chance would have it, my Fathers joined unto it: As we were arrived at the gate of Artambaces Palace, there we found a great number of his ancient friends, who there expected him: so that I could not present my hand unto my adored Amestris, to conduct her unto her chamber, because that great number of men which were there, stepped in before, and presented themselves unto Hermanista and her: Until now Sir, my soul was all joy; and love, that dangerous Serpent, was lurked so close under those pleasing flowers, that I did not discover its sting: But from the first minute of my thoughts to part from Amestris, and to take my leave of her, than did love appear unto me immediately in a most horrid shape, I saw him armed with his Bow and Arrows: I saw him with a Torch in his hand, and knew him perfectly to be the most terrible of all the Gods: No sooner did I perceive the company preparing to depart, but I blushed, and became dumb immediately, I was all serious and sad; and looking upon Amestris, without a heart or a tongue, my mind told her many things which she could not understand: In conclusion, part we must, and part we did, but it was with so much sorrow, and so much love, that never was Passion like unto mine. My Father asked me at night, why I returned so soon? But as I was going to answer, in comes a Gentleman from Artambaces, to thank him for all civilities which he had found at his house; and indeed it fell out happily for me, because my soul was unquiet, and all so disordered that I knew not how to frame a handsome answer unto my Father's question. I retired then unto my chamber, and was very indifferent what became of me: Me thought the Idea of fair Amestris haunted me always, and I could not forbear admiring her Beauty, her Wit and her Judgement: my imagination preferred her before all that the Court had amiable; and I could find nothing comparable to her: I was astonished to see one brought up in the Country, and in a Country so far remote, should not be distinguished from those which were most accomplished in the Court, neither in her Garb, or her Habit, or her Language; I considered her as an absolute miracle: Then, thus esteeming of her, you may be certain that I admired her with abundance of satisfaction. But that which I did think most strange, was that in spite of my heart, I was unquiet and melancholy. What would I have? (said I unto myself) How comes it to pass that the beauty of my loved and adored Amestris should not produce the same effects in my soul, which other beautiful objects do use to do? for commonly the sight of Fair and Fine things does fill our imaginations with delight; from whence comes it then, my divine Amestris, that in thinking upon you, I should be thus turbulent and disordered? but on the contrary, have I not sufficient cause to be content? I have seen you the first of any in your coming to the Court; and had the good fortune to find you in a house where I was able to pay some part of that service which is your due; and after such a manner it was performed, as the civility must needs invite you to prefer me before the acquaintances you shall get at Court: At the least I have this advantage, to be the first of your acquaintance who admires you, and— (at this word I stopped, not knowing whether I should say) who esteems, loves, and adores you: But determining the matter in myself, after I had a while consulted with my thoughts, No, no, my heart (said I) consider it no more; confess that thou dost esteem and love, and adore Amestris; and if there be any other phrase more fit to express so violent a passion, make use of it upon this occasion, and publish unto all the world how happy thou art to be the first Conquest of so perfect a beauty? From whence then comes all this melancholy? (said I in myself, and examining the cause) but alas Sir, I was yet a very simplician in love; and did not know that the nature of this passion was to bring a restless disposition with it. I knew not that the happiness which a lover hopes for, does afflict him; that the favours he enjoys do make him restless; and that which he has lost makes him desperate: I was such a novice as I knew not that grief and melancholy were inseparable concomitants of love, That a Lover never gets a conquest without pain: That he can never keep his Mistress without trouble, nor cannot lose her unless he lose his reason also: But yet I rested not long in this ignorance, for I had such sad experience of its rage, as never man became more knowing then myself in all the fantastical, giddy humours of love. After I had throughly consulted with my apprehensions, I did conclude, that without all manner of doubt, I was in Love; and that restless disposition which reigned over me, did very apparently proceed from that fear which is always born with Love, to wit, lest he which loves should not be beloved by her he does Love. And when I began to think, that perhaps all my services would not find a favourable reception; this word perhaps did seem most sad unto me; and that uncertainty was so tormentive, that I became almost mad: So that if I durst have followed that folly which possessed me, I should have accused Amestris of that which she never thought upon, and desired her to recompense a love which yet she knew not of, and of which I myself but a little before was ignorant. I shall desire your pardon Sir, if I do particularly relate unto you the rovings of my passion: For I conceive it will be pertinent unto my design, that you should know them; lest you should be astonished to find with what violences I have been tormented in all the sequel of my life. After I had then passed over that night with much turbulence of mind, I arose in the morning, and intended to present myself with my father unto Artambaces, to accompany him when he went unto the King, supposing it to be in some kind a rendering of service unto Amestris, in paying it unto one who was so near and dear unto her: In conclusion, Artambaces after he had saluted my Father, thanked me for my last civility, as a thing which obliged him very much; for he was not ignorant that Astyages looked favourably upon me: We went then unto the Court, and to the King, where I could not choose but speak of Amestris unto every one I met. I published unto all them whom I knew to be in love already, that their constancy would be put unto a dangerous trial: and I warned all them which were not in love, that if they had any desire to preserve their liberty, to be sure they never looked upon Amestris. Upon the matter, I may say I spoke so, that I spoke too much, as you shall know by the sequel of my discourse. Presently after I asked myself what design I had, in desiring to gain so many hearts unto Amestris? and where some secret resentments of jealousy bade me be silent in the midst of all my discourses of her. Going the next day unto Hermanista, I understood she was not to be seen, because she found herself very ill the last night. Then I went to visit some other Ladies, not in hopes of any diversion, for there was now no thoughts of any such things in me, but only with Amestris: but my intentions were to speak of her, not fearing to procure myself any Rivals: so I went unto the rarest beauties of all the Court and Town; and though it was not very judiciously done, to commend unto any fair one, the beauty of another, and that so extraordinarily as I did: yet I did it with such aggravations, as I was sure that I procured myself the hate of all those I saw that day: And I used the matter so, as there was none but Amestris herself, who was ignorant that I was in love with her. I moved jealousy in some, envy in others, and a curiosity in the wisest: The next day Hermanista found herself to be reasonable well disposed: all the Court came to visit, and I amongst the rest the first: Amestris was very handsomely dressed that day; and I thought her so wonderful fair, as I wished a hundred times that I might be so happy as to be her slave: She entertained me with much civility, and desired me sweetly, that I would tell her the names of all those which came to visit her, lest she should out of ignorance commit a fault against their quality: You may well suppose Sir, that I received this command with abundance of satisfaction, and went not that day from her. I confess unto you that I passed it over with different thoughts: both joy and sorrow mingled in my soul; so that I could say I enjoyed not pleasure without pain; nor any pain without pleasure: It is very true as I told you before, that the whole Court came to visit Hermanista; and it is more true, that the beauty of Amestris did charm them all: Not a man did enter, but was amazed; nor a woman, though the fairest in all the Court, but blushed to see herself excelled by any Country Lady: It would be a hard matter to tell you Sir, how much I joyed at the glory of Amestris, or to tell you how it troubled me to think that I was sure to have as many Rivals as men which saw her. That which moved most admiration in me, was, that in this first day of her visits, she committed not the least absurdity in all this so great and so long a conversation; and that she received the commendations which every one did give her with so much modesty, that the fairest of our Ladies, in spite of their eclipse, could not choose but love her, and confess she deserved the esteem of all the world: When most of the company was gone, only some five or six, whereof I was one; I began like the rest to commend her, but she told me that though perhaps she had not committed any gross absurdity in this meeting, yet she had so many obligations to me, that though it may be she did deserve some commendations, yet she was not to receive them from me; I would have answered her, and told her that she might very well pretend unto my best commends and praises, yet she would not suffer me, but began to discourse of what she had seen before: She highly commended the beauty of all those who visited her, and enquired more particularly of them; praising sometimes the wit of one, and sometimes the handsome behaviour of another: I must confess unto you Sir, that I was very much perplexed; for I observed every one found her to be so fair, that I was afraid to satisfy her curiosity, in speaking over well of any that might be my Rival: And I found by her inquisitive curiosity of every one, that she had a desire not to be hated of them: I spoke therefore with as much moderation as I could: I commended my dearest friends, though contrary to my custom, with less zeal; lest I should perhaps help them to destroy myself. Night drawing on, I must leave her; and as soon as I went from her, I went unto the King, where we talked of nothing but the beauty of Amestris, and that so advantageously, as the King designed a visit unto Hermanista; and Artambaces told her she might expect him the next day; though his age, you know, might very well have dispensed with thy curiosity of seeing fair Ladies: But the next day the King went thither, and, as the rest did, acknowledged Amestris for a miracle: I cannot tell you how many slaves this Beauty captivated; how many Lovers threw off their old fetters, and entered into hers; and what a strange Revolution she caused amongst all the Gallantry of Ecbatan. But I can very well'tell you, that there was not one in all the Court which had not seen her, and which did not love her, or at the least admire her, except one who was my friend called Artabes, brother unto Megabises, who was there; and who as you know is allied a little unto the Royal Family; This man was of a good disposition, and showed much affection towards me; and I also returned unto him so much fidelity that I preferred him before all the rest of my friends: Arbates affected solitude, and never cared for the conversation of Ladies, so that say what you would unto him, he could not be won unto this visit; He was contented to see Artambaces, but he had never seen Hermanista, and by consequence Amestris; yet I visited this bright Star with a constant assiduity, and I had better opportunities than any other for it, because there was a very great League of friendship betwixt Artambaces and my Father: Amestris had such an absolute power over my soul, and I so much reverence of her, that I dust not discover the passions of my heart unto her, but did hide them with as much pains as others to make theirs known, such were my fears to anger her: Amongst many others I perceived that Megabises was one who was fettered in the chains of Amestris. This did very much vex me, and as I never used to conceal my soul from Arbates, so I acquainted him that his Brother Megabises was become my Rival, and asked his Counsel in the business: He gave it me, and doubtless most faithfully; He told me that if he could possible he would cure me of my dangerous disease; but if he found that he could not, than he would endeavour to cure my Brother: But he told me in the mean time how he thought it fitting that since I was the first Lover of Amestris, since she came to Court, So I should be also the first which should discover my Passion unto her: I thanked him for his faithful advice, and was so importunate with him to see Amestris, that in the end I prevailed, upon condition I would undertake to prepare her so as the conversation might be solitary, without multitudes of company. I went then unto Amestris, whom by good fortune I found alone, so that I had an opportunity to speak unto her unheard by any: Madam (said I after other indifferent Discourse) you will perhaps think me very bold in not being contented with that honour which I have in coming to you myself, but that I must also beg leave to bring a friend of mine, who passionately desires to receive the same honour, although it was never his custom to visit Ladies: I am the more obliged (answered she) and since you think him worthy to be your friend, it would be a happiness to me to become mine: Madam (said I and changing colour) I would desire one favour from you, and if it be possible obtain it, that you would carry it so with my friend as he may only esteem and admire you without loving you: I think (said she smiling and blushing both together) that you desire a very difficult matter: but since you forbid only impossibilities I will do what I can to satisfy you; Ah Madam (said I unto her) little do you think what you have said, you would think this which I desire to be impossible, if you did but know yourself as well as I do: Aglatidas (answered she with a more displeased smile) know, that I pretend unto no more, then that you who are a friend unto Artambaces my Father, should not live with me as others do, from whom I endure their flatteries out of complacence and custom; but as for you I would not have you use it, and if you continue these kind of speeches unto me, you will force me to carry myself so towards you, as perhaps displease you: Why Madam (said I to her) will you let all the world commend you, and will you not permit Aglatidas to say that all the world does love you? or at the least I am certain it is so, if I may judge others by myself. I confess, (said he smiling, and turning her Discourse unto a jesting) that since you speak your affection unto me after so unusual a way, and since, not in speaking of your own fancy but the fancy of the Court in general, I have no reason to blame you in particular: But (said she then, and changed her Discourse) Go, bring your Friend, and as for the rest, leave the care of it unto my small merits; without any fear of his being captivated. I wish Madam (Replied I) that he may be more happy than one of his dearest friends is: You are so unwise (replied she) that one may find of your speeches more subject to pity you then to quarrel with you, therefore Aglatidas for this once I will be more indulgent to you; in saying so, she rise, and went unto a Balcone which opened into a Garden; she called two of her women unto her, so that I saw she desired to break off discourse. Then I went unto Artambaces and Hermanista, from whom after I had held a little discourse, I departed, and went to find out Arbaces, unto whom I imparted the permission I had obtained from Amestris: I related unto him all that I spoke unto her, and all her answers, and how I desired her to give Arbaces leave to enjoy his freedom: It seems (said he unto me smiling) that you are not only jealous of Megabises and others who have seen your Amestris, but you are also jealous of Arbaces who never saw her, and who never desired to see her, and who never would have seen her if you had not desired him: Arbaces spoke this with such an angry smile, that I was much puzzled; certainly if I had not already asked leave of Amestris to bring him, I should have been well contented to have let it alone: But as the case now stood I should have seemed too giddyheaded unto my Friend, and Amestris would have thought it strange if I did not bring him: yet when I considered that Megabises was his Brother, and a Lover of Amestris, I thought myself safe enough; and that which so much troubled me before, did now not at all disquiet me, supposing that Arbaces would never become a Rival unto his Brother and his Friend both at once: I remained silent a good while after I had propounded unto myself that Arbaces should not see Amestris: but upon a sudden I said No No, I will not deprive Amestris of the acquaintance with so complete a man as Arbaces; or him of the incomparable delight in hers; but if she should chance to enchain me (said he smiling) what would become of our friendship? then if you break those chains (answered I) for the love of me, our friendship will be more strong; But what if I cannot (Replied he) will you then blame me? I know not (Replied I) but yet I know that I do not see how any one should love a Rival: Never then (answered he) put me to the hazard of losing your friendship; and since Amestris is so terrible and dangerous, leave me to my solitude, and let me enjoy my liberty; for if I should have the misfortune to lose it, I know not whether I should hate you more for being the cause of it, or you me for being your Rival: not that I find any disposition in myself why I should fear any such thing at all; but on the contrary I perceive the spirits of the most rational men are so weakened by this Passion, as I will never be without an Antidote, against this so dangerous a poison: Fear me not Aglatidas (said he to me) and believe, that if I do lose my Liberty, it shall not be without strong opposition: When you were catcht, Love took you unprovided, and put a trick upon you: You went into the Country to enjoy your solitude, and unexpectedly you find Amestris there; you were not prepared for so sudden an assault: Your eyes were blinded with over-sudden light; Your reason was confused, and your heart was suprised: and therefore it was no wonder if she captivated a man who had no Arms wherewith to defend himself. But it is not so with me, for all the world tells me of it, you yourself tell it, and that a hundred times, how Amestris is the Fairest upon earth; and from these Reports I have fancied so perfect an Idea of her, that I am absolutely persuaded she cannot surprise me; and perhaps too I have over-fancied her, and shall find her a meaner Beauty than my expectation looked for: Moreover, I go with resolved intentions to dispute with her for my heart, as much as possible; and since my Brother loves her, and you love her, very reason says, that there is no danger I shall be captivated: I told him that I wished as much; yet I could not choose but fear the contrary. Arbates not being able to forbear laughing, you are so simple (said he to me) that the very fear which I have to be like you, may well make your mind at rest; yet notwithstanding let me tell you whilst it is time, if you please, I will not see her: since there is nothing but hazard in it; I confess unto you Sir, that I was in a hundred minds whether or no I should take him at his word, but I could not resolve upon it; I found such folly in my procedure, that I was confounded at last, I told Arbates that I would not alter my mind, but to morrow after dinner we would go unto Amestris. Arbates as I have described him, was something solitary, but he was none of those angry Melancholiques whose conversation was clownish or incommodious; but on the contrary he was of a very pleasant disposition in any company which pleased him. The cause of his reservedness was not any melancholic composition in his natural temper, but it was because he was of a more delicate fine spirit, which without much difficulty could not endure the least fault in his friends: he looked for perfection in every thing, and could not endure defects; so that since it was a hard matter to find many exactly perfect, therefore he found but few to love, and many to shun: As for me, he did me the favour to find an exception for me out of the general Rule, and forced his inclination to love me. The next day we went unto Amestris, with whom we found Megabises who was the most astiduous observant of all my Rivals, and most to be feared, being without question the handsomest and compleatest man about the Court. As soon as we entered, I presented Arbates unto Hermanista, and after to Amestris; They received us both with much civility, and treated us after such a manner as I might discern they esteemed those whom I did; for besides the common respect which was due, and which they rendered unto his condition and merit, they did things in such an obliging manner, as told me without words that the Favours which Arbates received, were partly done for the Love of Aglatidas. To speak truly those first welcomes which he received, because they could not be attributed unto his merit, in so short acquaintance, therefore they were far from moving any jealousy in me, but rather much joyed me, not but that I had some far fetched fears lest this civility should engage Arbates more than I would have him, but because she did quickly dissipate them. The Conversation therefore was very pleasant that day, for Megabises was so surprised to see his brother amongst Ladies, that he could not forbear telling Amestris this was one of the greatest miracles of her beauty: Think not Madam (said he) that my Brother comes hither to find in you all those excellencies which all the world admires: But on the contrary Madam, I dare assure you that he would be ravished with joy to find if it were possible any imperfection in your beauty; or any fault in your Language: any dullness in your wit; or any harshness in your humours. Perhaps it would be advantageous unto Megabises, and many others (Replied Arbates) that the fair Amestris had some imperfections, so that she could censure theirs; but as for me (who never look for any defects but because I look for perfections) I am ravished with joy to find them all in one; and to see myself undeceived in that error wherein I have been, in believing that there was nothing perfect in the world; You are a very good flatterer, for a solitary man, Replied Amestris. I am very sincere Madam (Replied he) and therefore I freely tell you what I think: After this Hermanista diverted the Discourse; News and Court-diversions was all that afternoons entertainment. For my part I spoke but little all the day: I was so taken up with looking upon Amestris, and observing Megabises, Arbates, and Otanes, that I cared not for discourse: I saw Megabises grew every day more in Love; and a hundred others also were daily captivated: Arbates for a man who affected solitude methought was much pleased with this first day's conversation: and Amestris did deal her civilities with such equality, and covered her thoughts with so much modesty, that I could not discover any partiality: Indeed I was very unquiet all the time, insomuch as Amestris perceiving it did pleasingly chide me, saying, that if she had not known how I had a better reputation than my friend, she should have taken Aglatidas for Arbates, and Arbates for Aglatidas: Yet I thought myself happy that Amestris would take any notice of my naughty humour; and Arbates was very well satisfied, so that his accustomed solitude appeared no more Melancholy than any other. Night being come, every one retires to his own Lodging: I carried Arbates unto my Father's house, and because I had a mind to treat him civilly I carried him upon a Tarrass where we saw the River Orontes, which runs by Ecbatan: We took two turns upon that Tarrass, and spoke not a word: Arbates not daring perhaps to tell me what he thought of Amestris; nor I daring to ask him his opinion: But here Sir, you may admire at the fantasticallnesse of Love: I protest unto you, I equally feared that Arbates would commend Amestris too much, or that he would not commend her enough: I feared that he would not disapprove of my choice; and I feared that he himself would choose where I had chosen before him. I being then thus perplexed, as I have told you, and walking silently two turns about the Turrass, at last I broke the silence, and said with a little forced sight, Well Artabes, have you defended yourself very well: has not the fair Amestris made a Rival of the dearest friend I have? You are so jealous (answered Artabes) that to break that ill habit, I will not satisfy your curiosity: I will only tell you thus much, that I think Amestris to be worthy of all admiration: But if you admire her (said I to him) I believe you love her also: That is not an absolute necessity (answered he) nor a necessary consequence, yet I will not talk any more of it; for I would work a cure upon your mind, and insensibly unaccustom you not to fancy monsters to fight withal: Ah my dear Artabes (said I to him) leave me not in the midst of these uncertainties; Tell me I beseech you, what are your real thoughts of Amestris? What would you have me tell you (answered he) if I commend her, you will say I am in love; and if I discommend her you will say that I either deceive you, or have lost my reason: It is no matter (said I to him) though you should let me know that you only esteem her, but I would know whether your heart be not taken; and whether you love her so much, as you must one day hate me for it. I know not what's to come (answered he) but for the present I know I am infinitely obliged unto you, for bringing me to the knowledge of the fairest Lady in the world. I confess Sir, that seeing Artabes spoke with such freedom of spirit, I did believe all his tart answers had been only in jest, and mocks at my imbecility: so that being ashamed of myself, I left off troubling him, and went quietly to supper. In conclusion, I found, that though Artabes was extremely wounded with the beauty of Amestris, yet he would not be forced to love her, and by the power of his virtue, he resisted it as much as he could, and strove with all his strength not to become a Rival unto his brother and his friend, such a friend too, who had made choice of him to be his confident, and without whom he had never seen Amestris. It is to be believed that what he told unto one who was a friend both to him and me, was true; that he did all things possible not to love her: But Sir, all was in vain; love made a wonderful strange alteration in him: Until now he seemed to be the most sincere and faithful friend unto me of all men that ever I did meet withal; but he became upon a sudden the vilest cheat upon the earth: We met many days, but not a word of Amestris, as if he had never seen her: He did so cure all my jealousies of him by this cunning, that I desired him to let us visit her sometimes, but he denied it very stiffly: and indeed he was many days and never went unto her: But to my misfortune, I knew afterwards that he had seen her thrice in the Temple, twice walking in the Garden of the King's Palace; and once walking upon the banks of the River Orontes, where she often used to walk: Artabes then seeming unto me to be far from any design upon Amestris, I kept correspondency with him, I spoke to him concerning my Passion, and asked his counsel. When I told him that I had not yet followed his counsel in discovering my love unto her as soon as I could, because she did shun all such occasions; then he answered me thus; When I counselled you to speak of your passion so soon, I did not then know Amestris: But oh Gods, Aglatidas (said he) I have much altered my opinion upon sight of her, and find, that the grave modesty which I observed in her countenance, doth tell me you must not discover your love too hastily and lightly unto her. Believe me (said this treacherous friend) you must not think to tell Amestris of any love, until you rendered her a hundred services, and until you have brought her to that pass, as she cannot deny you without ingratitude. This way (said I) is very far fetched; Yes it is so (said he) but it is very sure, and the other very dangerous: for (said he) what if she should be displeased when you discover your passion? if she should forbid you to see her? if she should shun you, or if she should hate you; what course would you take then? Surely (replied I) I should die: But (continued I) if she be never acquainted with my passion; if I never must tell her, but let my Rivals be more favoured than myself, and speak of their loves, how can she come to know of mine? Would you have her recompen●e me for that which she is ignorant of? I would have her know it (answered he) but I would have it after such a manner as will not displease her; I would have her heart engaged a little to embrace your love when you tell it openly: But who shall engage, replied I, this illustrious heart of Amestris? Your endeavours, your services, your reverence, and your silence (answered he) whereas others procure her hatred by their importunities: And believe me Aglatidas, although I am not acquainted with matters of love, more than by report of others; as I have examined the passion in itself, knowing the cause, I can guests at the effects: Be assured then, that if you love, Amestris will come to the knowledge of it; Love is a fire, which shines as well as burns; and cannot be, but be discovered. Therefore Aglatidas rest contented concerning that: Let all your cares be to find out ways of serving her whom you adore, and make her plainly know your love without telling her. Thus Sir, this cunning Artabes, who knew well enough my disposition, caused me to resolve not to discover my passion more than I had already, unto Amestris, or any else: But though all the Court did suspect me to be in Love, yet I confessed it unto none but Artabes: And though many others did appear to be before me, yet I kept myself within the limits which my unfaithful friend prescribed me; I promised to order myself according to his directions: and he also promised me to take off one of my most dangerous Rivals, not conceiving it; as he told me, that this design was advantageous unto Megabises. Indeed he promised very fair; but alas, all was for his own ends, as afterwards you shall know. Then Sir, the true reason why he would not go so often unto Amestris, was, not only to hide from me his love unto her, but also that the counsel which he intended to give unto Megabises his brother might not be suspected. In the morning therefore he went into his chamber where he found him alone, and after discourse of a hundred indifferent matters, he asked him how he would bestow the day? Megabises who did not suspect the subtlety of his brother, answered him ingeniously, that he would spend the day with Hermanista: You should have said Amestris answered Artabes laughing and scoffing at him) for what virtue is there in Hermanista: If Amestris had no beauty, I believe you would not visit Artambaces so often. It is true (answered Megabises) but what do I more than all the Court does? Aglatidas who is your special friend, is not he continually with Amestris as well as I? Yes (answered the false Artabes) and I would to heavens he were not so; for loving his quiet as I do, I wish he would not trouble himself with a design which cannot be advantageous unto those who are so much bend upon it. I know very well (replied Megabises) that love is a restless passion, which affords no serene delights; yet for all that, if Artabes did experimentally know it, he would not be so forward to blame those who are possessed with it; and would find, that how rigorous soever the pains of love do seem to be, yet it affords more delight, than all the pleasures in the world, which are not caused by it. Yet this wherein you are engaged (answered Artabes) is so full of danger, that I would do any thing in the world which were in my power to divert you; begin then with Aglatidas (said Megabises embracing his brother) and believe me I shall be more obliged unto you for curing his disease then mine. I'll do my best (replied Arabes) and perhaps I have already done more to him than you. Oh heavens (replied Megabises) is it possible that you can divert Aglatidas from prejudicing me concerning Amestris? Certainly (answered Artabes) I will do all that is in my power that Aglatidas shall not prejudice other lovers of Amestris: But deceive not yourself, and know that it is not with any intention that Megabises shall get any more interest in her by it. But on the contrary, I wish with all my heart that he would prejudice others no more than I would have Aglatidas prejudice him: What then would you have me do? (replied Megabises) I would (answered Artabes) have you strive to stifle a passion which has much weakness in it in general, and will in this particular procure you much unprofitable trouble: for, said he, there are a hundred more which promote the same design; and which is more; you are to Court one whose heart is stone, and therefore difficult to be pierced. Difficulty (answered Megabises) is the life of love: Yes, replied Artabes, but impossibilities will make it die: It is true, answered Megabises, but why is it impossible that one of my quality should marry the daughter of Artambaces? I do not hold it absolutely impossible, replied Artabes, that Megabises should marry Amestris: But I do not hold it an easy matter to be beloved, for I know by Aglatidas, who is very well informed of it, that Amestris, for all her modesty, is so passionately in love with her own beauty, that she is absolutely incapable of loving any thing else: Then brother, do you imagine it such a happiness to marry a woman who loves her looking glass better than her husband? and whose soul is sensible of nothing but her own attracts. Moreover, continued he, assuming a more serious countenance, Amestris is daughter to Artambaces, a banished man eighteen years since, and who has made his peace no otherwise, but because Ciaxares (who hates him in behalf of the Queen of Persia his sister) is not now here: Do you not think, since Astyages is so very old, that Artambaces must pack out of Ecbatan the very same day that Ciaxares leaves Cappadocia, and assumes the Crown of Medea? Imagine then Megabises, what pleasure you will have in leaving this Kingdom to live in the Province of the Trisantines with a proud insensible woman, who will waste your fortunes in lieu of advancing them; and who then perhaps will not be so fair (for a hundred things besides age may decay a beauty) nor contribute anything to your satisfaction. Ah brother, said Megabises, you are deceived, Amestris will be for ever fair: Do but assist me so far as to marry her, and never trouble yourself with my good fortunes afterwards: What though I be banished? I care not though she be insensible, it is no matter, so we be banished together; for than I shall enjoy my good fortune with more freedom, and if she be incapable of loving any thing, than I shall be free from all causes of jealousy: Therefore if you love me, assist, but no more oppose my passion: You desire that of me which I cannot do (answered Artabes) we must not give poison unto frantic friends when they ask it, principally to you. Hardhearted, insensible brother (replied Megabises) I do almost wish you my Rival to punish you for condemning my passion so severely, and to teach you experimentally that love is not a voluntary business: You would perhaps repent you of your wish; replied Artabes, if it could possibly be; but however confess unto me thus far, that you would be more happy if you were at liberty, than you are at present: then promise me only that you will endeavour a while to break out of your prison: Never think it possible for me to do it; replied Megabises, but because I will not deny you in every thing, I will promise you to try; though to tell you truth, it is as good as if I promised you nothing. Artabes perceiving that he could work no more upon the mind of his brother, left him for that time; resolving to dispense with the interest of a brother and a friend, and promote his own love before theirs. I was persuaded, as he said himself, that he was forced unto this by the extremity and violence of his passion; and that he did take up the humour without much resistance unto himself: But I am persuaded that let love be never so potent, it neither can nor aught to force us unto things which are contrary unto Honour or Honesty: and that though this passion be the most noble, yet it must not excuse any base or wicked act. However Artabes was involved into a most perplexed condition: He was deeply in love with one whom he durst not visit, least changing his retired life; he should grow to palpable and become suspected by his brother and myself: He was violently in love, but durst not discover it: He had two Rivals whom he loved and whom he was engaged to love: His brother commanded him not to be his hindrance; and he had passed his promise to assist me: He assured me that he would do all in his power to reclaim Megabises; and he told Megabises that he would set Aglatidas free: What should he do then to see Amestris; to betray his brother; to deceive his friend; and to promote himself unto their prejudice: He knew they were inseparable from Amestris: what course could he then take to visit her every day without being suspected by us both? and what cunning could he use to bring about his design? Prepare yourself Sir, to hear the most notable piece of Treason that ever love did prompt any man unto, and be persuaded that you must needs be amazed at what I am to tell you. Artabes then a while after came and told me that he had employed the best of his endeavours to reclaim his brother, and cure his passion; and indeed, as the thing was true, so he related it so punctually, as I made no question of the truth: I thought myself so obliged unto him for it, that I think if he had discovered his own love unto me, I should have returned so much friendship unto him; as to have died, and yielded up my interest of Amestris to him also; so sensible was I of so great a benefit and addicted unto the Laws of Generosity. Whilst Artabes had sufficiently amused me for some time by the relation of all he had said unto Megabises, and all Megabises answers unto him; He personated himself of another humour with his Brother, and feigning himself by little and little to be very compassionate unto his Brother, heacted his part so well, that Megabises made him his dearest confident; He was his only Oracle, and was guided only by his Orders as well as I. As Artabes feared nothing more, then that Megabises and I should find him alone with Amestris, and moreover, finding that according to his plot there was a necessity of our being often with her, so I was sure to give notice unto Megabises of the time when I ought to be with her, and also to give me notice in my course when my brother should be there; Insomuch as since he transacted in our business we never saw Amestris one without the other: Love and jealousy moved him to fear one Rival single with Amestris more than many together. Yet he had this piece of prudence to desire me both for my interest and his own, not to quarrel with my brother, and to assure me always upon his word, that he would transact with all his power to ruin the designs of Megabises, which also as he told me did not please him: He also advised my Brother not to quarrel with me, lest when we were gone far off to fight, others might in the interim step in and supplant him: And thus we lived: Megabises he complained that I was a perpetual obstacle unto him; and I complained that Megabises was the same to me; As for Amestris she lived in such wisdom and reservedness that her virtue could not discover any of his Projects. It is certain that notwithstanding her impartial behaviour and civility which she used unto all that came unto her; yet every one observed that Megabises and I had a greater share in her esteem then any else: and that Otanes who doubtless you have seen in the Court of Medea, was the man most hated and scorned: for my part I could not discover any more extraordinary favour from her then unto many others: but thought that Megabises was the happier of the two; insomuch as I could not forbear to complain continually of Artabes: Megabises for his part he thought that I was better treated then himself, and complained also of his Brother, who indeed intended to betray us both alike: One night then, when we were alone in my Chamber, My dear Artabes (said I to him) how long will you hold me in hopes? and how long must the Passion of Megabises persecute me? Why has the enticing eyes of Amestris made a Lover of my Friend's Brother, and such a Lover upon whom they look more favourably, if my jealousy do not much deceive me? Ah my dear Artabes (said I) if Migabises had not such relation unto you, my sword should long since have done me right, and revenged that injustice which is done unto my Love, which I am sure preceded his, and which perhaps would have been more faithful and sincere unto me. Artabes seemed much touched at my complaints and sorrows: Sometimes he would desire pardon for his Brother's injuries; sometimes thank me for the respect which I had unto his friendship; and sometimes he entreated me to continue it: After he had asked as much as he desired, looking suddenly upon me with a troubled countenance: You shall see Aglatidas (said he) If Artabes did not love you, and love you as much as one can love another, he would not make that Proposition unto you which he is about, and act such a piece of Treason as he has premeditated: Know then (said he) I know but one way which will infallibly break the designs of Megabises upon Amestris: Ha my dear Artabes (said I) let us quickly take that happy way, if it will rid me of my Rival who is so much to be doubted; You know (said he to me) that Megabises loves me with abundance of tenderness, so that he will perhaps do that for my preservation which he would not do for my prayers and reasons: I must then (said he) for a certain time seem more troubled and melancholic than I use to be; and when he asks me the reason of it, and presseth me importunately more than once, I will tell him that I am in love with Amestris; and that all my trouble and melancholy was nothing else but my endeavours to overcome my own passions which I could not do; In conclusion, I will entreat him, and press him to take some care of my life, and with tears, and sighs, and sorrows dispute with him for the Victory: I know very certainly (said he) that he loves me most dearly, and that it will go hard with him to resist me: I blush (said this vile perfidious Artabes) my dear Friend, to propound so horrid a Treason, but what will not one do for a Friend he loves? But My dear Artabes, (said I, embracing him, and fearing he should be offended at what I was intended to tell him) since the Friendship you have with me moves you so strongly to deceive Megabises; what would you not do both to him and me if you should chance become in love with Amestris? And may I not fear that counterfeiting to be so in Love, you should become really so? Is it so (Replied the crafty Artabes, seeming very angry) do you thus take the proofs of my affection? Take heed Aglatidas, lest if I keep within the simple limits of reason, I do not assist Megabises against you, and prefer the consideration of blood before that of Friendship: Artabes pronounced these words with so serious a look, that I thought I had angered him; so that checking myself I began to trust in his Promises, and spoke him so fair that his counterfeit choler was appeased, and his answers were so well that my fears did vanish: I confess Sir, that at the first this Proposition did astonish me, but considering the benefit which I might perhaps receive by it, and resolving that I would never lose Amestris without losing my life; I thought it better to have recourse unto gentleness then force, and consented unto his Plot, having no suspicion or jealousy; or any imagination of his real being in love with her: fearing only lest he should hereafter be entangled: Mean time this was sufficient for him to have the freedom of seeing Amestris without incurring any displeasure from me; but yet he wanted the same advantage over his Brother's mind, therefore the next morning he went unto him and deceived him as well as me, and almost after the same manner, though the reasons which he used were not the same: he found Megabises in the King's Garden, where he was informed he might find him: as soon as he met him; What makes you here Brother (said he unto him) whilst perhaps Aglatidas is with Amestris: at least I am certain he went this morning to Artambaces: You would do much better (answered Megabises roughly) to be no more his friend, but rather leave him unto my fury and jealousy, then to tell me of his tenders to Amestris: Never think that I am able to endure this complacential way; my Patience will not always suffer Aglatidas to be the Friend of Artabes, and to be favoured by her I love; Aglatidas I say who of all my Rivals is the only man I fear, and he alone can come in competition with me. Artabes was surprised and astonished at this, and looking upon Megabises, Why Brother (said he) would you have me break with Aglatidas, because he is your Rival? He who is so generous as not to break with me although you be his Rival and I your brother; who has asked me pardon a hundred and a hundred times, for that it was his ill fortune to be so engaged in the Love of Amestris; who moreover loved her before you knew her; and who has lately given me some hopes to conquer his passion for the love of you and me? yet for aught I see (said the crafty Artabes seeming very angry, and offering to go away) you take all the good offices which I have done you in so bad a sense, as I will trouble myself no more about them. Ah my dear Brother (said Megabises, staying him) I pray you pardon an unfortunate man who hath lost the use of his reason, and leave him not thus in despair: I saw (continued he) that you loved my Rival so much that I took you for him, and against my will my anger surprised me, and forced me to say something, which perhaps has angered you: But pardon me I most heartily beseech you: and since it is so that you love me and love Aglatidas both, cause him, I conjure you, to leave loving Amestris, for I am not able to endure it, he must either leave loving or else I must leave living: You are very violent (Replied Artabes) and what likelihood is there to help a man who is so uncapable of reason? one who would have to renounce all manner of generosity, to satisfy an unruly passion? Love (replied Megabises) excuses all sorts of injuries; Remember what you say (Replied Arabes) and to prevent such an inconvenience as that my Brother and Friend should quarrel, I will become a Traitor unto Aglatidas in behalf of Megabises. At these words Artabes stopped, the better to examine himself concerning the Proposition which he was to make (for Megabises related it all afterwards) and after he had a while ruminated upon the matter, he began to speak in a more serious Tone, Hitherto Brother (said he) I have transacted with Aglatidas only by persuasive reasons, to give over his Passion, he I say who respects you much, and who doubtless bears as great a Love to you as me: But now since I perceive your Love is grown unto such an extremity, and since I fear my affection to Aglatidas should hazard his life, I will follow your own Maxims without consideration of what is just or what unjust. I will therefore counterfeit a false friendship unto Aglatidas, and ask his pardon for a secret which I am to reveal; I will tell him that when I endeavoured to reclaim his Love, that it was merely for my own interest, and not for his nor yours; In concusion, I will earnestly pray him and press him, that he will give me leave to love and serve Amestris, as a hundred others do the like; telling that otherwise it will cost me my life, conjuring with all feigned tears and sighs not to hate me or suffer me to despair: But how will this feat advantage me (Replied Megabises?) I hope (answered Artabes) that perhaps he will yield Amestris unto me, or at the least when he knows that I am in love with her, he will not think it strange if I visit her, and not suspect that I am with her upon your account: Ah Brother, said Megabises, if Aglatidas knows how to love he will never yield unto you, but will dispute the matter as well with you as me: However (Replied Artabes) you will get this advantage by it, that you will have a faithful man about Amestris, who will defeat all the designs of your Rival, and advance your own: Your reason is good (answered the too credulous Megabises) but Brother (said he) I saw you once with Amestris, was it not because you did then a little love her? When I was there (Replied Artabes smiling) I loved your Rival too well, and it was at his importunity that I came thither; and he thought so little of any such thing, that I think you need not be jealous of your Brother: Consider it well (said he) and resolve whether I should serve you, or whether I should not: For I assure you I should think myself much obliged unto you, if you would not employ me in any such infidelity to my friend: Megabises seeing such an indifferency in the mind of Artabes, assured himself, nor could suspect that man who loved both Aglatidas and himself so much, would ever fall in love with Amestris: And thus Sir he cozened both him and me, and brought all things to the pass he desired: In conclusion he assured me that he had acted his part unto Megabises according as was covenanted between us: He expressed his sorrows and despair to the life, and told me that he would not absolutely promise him to see Amestris no more, but he had given him permission to see her, and to endeavour with her in his behalf, swearing unto him, that if I found her more tractable, he should then absolutely retreat, and leave him in quiet possession of his good fortune; Then Sir, the same which Artabes told me he told also unto Megabises: and persuaded him that I respected you so much as to yield up Amestris unto you, and that he should also permit him his leave to see, and then Sir there was nothing which could oppose his joy; so that he told us severally there was no more to be done, but for him to court her in their behalves daily, and to gain her esteem by some particular civility: But said I then to him, My dear Artabes, if she should chance to love you in earnest, during this fiction, where were we then? I fear not that (answered he, and doubtless it was the least of his fears) for my own defects assure me of the contrary; And moreover (continued he) I will faithfully promise you that when I am alone with her I will not then speak a word to her but in your behalf, and therefore there is no danger at all: In a word Sir, Artabes did so work upon the mind of Megabises, and mine, as we did consent that he should visit Amestris, and that he should be very assiduous with her, I leave you to judge Sir, if ever the like chance happened: and if ever there was a more prosperous cheat for a while; for since I thought that Megabises retired himself, because he thought Artabes would be better treated then himself: I wished Artabes all good success: Also Megabises having the same thoughts, had also the same desires: Thus did both of us pray for our greatest enemy and our most dangerous Rival: and whilst he was transacting our Ruins we gave him as many thanks as if he were perpetuating our felicity: He went daily to Amestris who treated him with abundance of civility, and showed him more favours then any else, because she conceived his visits were only in consideration that he had quitted his solitude, and changed his course of life: he had freedom of discourse with Amestris when he pleased, and that with more respect then either of us: for as we were both of us persuaded that when he discoursed alone with her, he spoke unto our several advantages, we endeavoured to facilitate the way unto him; and we ourselves furnished him with Arms to destroy us: for in lieu of employing those precious minutes with her in private to the advantages of Megabises or me, he all the while was endeavouring to get himself into her good opinion: But for the first days, it was after so handsome and respective a way, that she could not be angry: and if she did suspect any such thing as love, she thought also that he had never given her any occasions of displeasure; she behaved herself unto him with much reservedness, but yet as I have said with very much civility, because indeed he was worthy of it, both in respect of his quality, and of his wit; Megabises asked him every day whether I began to change my thoughts, and I asked him very often, if his Brother did pity his counterfected Passion: To this he answered me, that he began to have very much hopes of him; and to the other, that yet he knew not what to hope of him: To the one, that the thing was possible, that the thing was possible, but difficult; to the other, that notwithstanding all the difficulty he would bring it about: and to them both that nothing ought to be done precipitately, if they would have it done will; and that they ought to give time of consideration and contrivance of the matter: In short Sir, this Impostor transacted his enterprise so cunningly, that whereas he should have acted for us, we both of us acted for him, and gave him a thousand thanks for his knavery: We met oft all together at the Chamber of Amestris, and both Amestris, and both Megabises and myself endured torments beyong imagination: Sometimes our Passions were turned all into despair, sometimes jealousies mingled; Megabises suspected his Brother was more my Servant then his: I also thought that Artabes would betray me to favour him, sometimes we were all fears, and sometimes we did apprehend that Artabes neither was in love nor ever would be. As I remember I told you, that by the orders of my unfaithful friend I was never to speak openly concerning my Passion for Amestris: But though I observed that order most exactly, yet dare say the fair Amestris was not ignorant what power her bewitching eyes had over my heart: And although my tongue did never reveal the secrets of my soul, yet all my actions, my looks, and also my common discourse of indifferent matters, did clearly evidence (I knew not how) the violence of my love, especially unto any that was possessed with any inclination to judge things for my advantage: I was obliged for the justification of Amestris, and her favours to me, to say, that since it was her pleasure to honour one so much, it was because she knew that Artambaces and Hermanista allowed of it; it being certain, as I was well informed since, that it was their desire I should become a servant unto Amestris, because I was the first man of all the Court which had the honour to be known unto her, and because I had never said or done any thing which displeased her, but was upon all occasions diligent to serve and direct her: Yet notwithstanding her slight disposition not to hate me, did not at that time afford me much happiness, because the severity of her wisdom, and prudence of her civilities was such, that none could reasonably guests she bore any good thoughts of me; neither fear she had any ill, because of her aspect, such was the wisdom and judgement of her behaviour. Yet I dare say that Artabes as prosperous as he was in his knavery, had some angry times; for when he was with Amestris, between Megabises and me, it was impossible but he should be stung with some remorse of conscience, for betraying his brother and his friend, and sometimes apprehend the end of the adventure; not but that he had foreseen all things; and that if his design did not hit, he was not to seek for excuses: His design was, that when he had assured himself of the favour of Amestris, to ask pardon of us both, for covering his love to Amestris with the cloak of a seeming it to be affection unto us, and to seem so extremely sorry for the accident, that we should pity him: He imagined that for his brother there was no fear of his life from him, and as for me, he believed that our friendship, and the reverence I bore unto Amestris would hinder me from spoiling his desing; and after all, the fair Amestris would not expose herself unto any danger of causing a quarrel. Thus had Artabes laid the foundation of his Plot: But Fortune, which meddles in many matters, would not suffer it to hit: And thus we lived for a reasonalbe long time: Then Artabes seeing how he was baited both by his brother and himself: and thinking that he was upon good terms with Amestris, he began to express his passion more openly then formerly he had, and intended to open his design unto her; and a while after he found a favourable opportunity. He told Megabises and me severally, that now he was resolved to know which of us two stood best in the favour of Amestris; but to that end we must not go unto her this two days, but give him the opportunities to entertain her in private: We both consented unto his desire, though on my side with much ado: He went then unto Amestris, unto whom he could not speak the first day, by reason of much company; there happened to be then there one of her lovers, called Oltanes, an ill-favoured man, and most displeasant both to her and all the Court: This man was seldom from her; not but that Amestris had a very great dislike of him, but because he being a man of quality, Artambaces would not forbid him his house: It was this man who did most hinder Artabes from speaking unto Amestris the first day: but the next day after proved more happy, for he found her without any company besides her own women: She herself was leaning upon a Belcone which looked into the Garden; so that he might deliver his mind without being heard by any: At first their discourse was upon indifferent things; but since he had a hidden design, and desired to fall insensibly into discourse of something which might discover it unto her: Madam (said he to her) I found you yesterday in such a solitude as was not usual with you, very like unto that humour out of which you have drawn me; I should think myself much honoured (answered she) in being a means to regain you unto your friends: But I believe it rather the persuasions of Megabises and Aglatidas which had that power over you, then that I contributed any thing at all. Megabises and Aglatidas (replied he) has not so much power over me as the fair Amestris: You are very unjust then (answered she) for in my opinion they have more right unto that power than Amestris hath, who desires power over none but herself: That which you reserve unto yourself (replied Artabes) is doubtless much better than all the rest of your Empire: though I assure you, that you have an absolute dominion over all those who have the honour to come near you; and for my particular, I prefer you before all the Crowns in the world: If difficulty in getting of any thing (answered she) do add any thing to the value, than you have reason to esteem me so, since it is most certain, that it is no easy matter, ever to get an absolute power over the heart of Amestris. That would be too much, Madam, to desire an absolute Sovereignty in so glorious a place (replied Artabes) and I know some men, whose ambition would be contented with less, and account themselves most happy if you would acknowledge them for your slaves: For my part (replied Amestris) without thinking that Artabes would more clearly explain himself, I would advise none, either to give or receive any fetters; and by my good will, none of my friends shall ever become unhappy: Ah Madam, (said Artabes then) continue always in so just a mind, and never repent it: To repent of things which are just, replied she is doubtless a crime, which I do not intend ever to commit: If so Madam, replied he, why do you suffer one man in the world (who adores you without parallel, and whose rigorous silence cannot express himself) without shing upon his misfortune, by your favourable aspect? you I say, who express yourself so divinely, and say, that by your consent none of your friends shall ever be unhappy? Amestris stood a while without an answer, not knowing well whether Artabes spoke concerning Megabises, myself, or himself: She was so susprised at the discourse, that she knew not well how to expound it: but the first disorder of her spirit being passed over; I know not Artabes (said she in a higher tone) whether or no you have any design upon me, to make me follow your accustomed humour, and prefer solitude before society: but I know very well, that though you do not change me, you move me to advise you to rest yourself quiet in your own closet, and trouble my chamber no more: I cannot be any where but with you (replied Artabes precipitately, who was naturally of a hasty violent temper, though he seemed dull and melancholic unto those that knew him not very well.) Surely Artabes (said Amestris in looking upon him with many marks of anger in her eyes) you do not know me? Pardon me, Madam, answered he, I know you very well, and cannot be ignorant, that you are the fairest, and most amiable in the world: but it is you Madam, added he, who knows not the unfortunate Artabes; he, I say, who adores you, as devoutly as men adore the Gods; he, whose thoughts are all upon you; and who seeks nothing upon earth else; I say, who will die, and die a thousand deaths rather than live without the love of Amestris: Then you must prepare yourself for death (replied she and broke off his discourse) for Amestris will not bestow her esteem esteem nor love, nor friendship upon any, who want those respects unto me which are fitting. It to adore you to want respect? replied he: To tell me as much, is, answered she: Do as the Gods do then (answered Artabes) and know my thoughts, and like them, receive my prayers, and grant me that which it is your pleasure I should not ask: I'll grant nothing, said she, unto them who render themselves unworthy, no not my compassion, which I seldom refuse unto any in misery: But Artabes (said Amestris) I desire no more of your company, and forbid you ever visiting me any more: In saying so, she would have gone away, but he stayed her: Since this is the last time (said he unto her) that I must have the blesledness of your company, you may very well hear me all I would speak, and it is but fit I should let you know what Artabes is; to the end, that before you do absolutely destroy him, you may consider well whether you have any reason for doing it: I know but too much, replied she, and it would have been better for him if I had known less: You do not yet know Madam, said he, that he who speaks unto you does love you so extreme violently, that there is no crime which he hath not committed for your sake; he hath betrayed his friends, he hath cozened his kindred, he hath dishonoured himself, and there is nothing which he hath not done, which might make him rest capable of getting your affection, and to hinder all others from possessing it. The reason, Madam, why I tell you what I have done, is, that you may know what I can do: If there be any of my Rivals which displeases you, do but seem to wish, and I shall presently rid you of them; but (continued he) Megabises and Aglatidas they are more fortunate than I, if you desire to preserve them, hide so all your advantageous thoughts of both of them, that I do not perceive them, and that they themselves do not perceive them. Megabises and Aglatidas, replied she, are wiser than you are, in my opinion: I know not Madam, answared he, whether they be wiser; but I know very well, that if they be more happy than I, they shall not be so long: At these words Amestris grew so extremely angry, that she used all the vile and ill terms she could invent against Artabes, who doubtless did often repent him of his violence, though in vain: This crafty and subtle man, by the violence of his passion and sorrow, had lost all policy and craft upon this occasion. As they were upon these terms, a servant came in and told Amestris that there were a great number coming to visit her; but since she found her spirits a little disordered, and left any signs of anger or sorrow should appear in her face, she left Artabes upon a sudden, and went into her Closet to compose her countenance. Mean while Artabes went out of the chamber, but in such a fury, and so desperate as possible a man could be: Sorrow so possessed him, that because he could not resolve to see either Megabises or me: he took his horse and went for some certain days into the Çountry, leaving order to tell every one, that important business so happened that he was forced to go without bidding adieu to any of his friends, or seeing us: Mean while, Megabises and I, who knew nothing of the truth, and who were in absolute dispute, because Artabes had rendered us no account of the discourse which he had with Amestris, we would go the next day unto her; but we were told that she was not well, and would not be seen: The next day we went again and saw her, but much more melancholic than accustomed: Methought she treated us more coldly then formerly she was accustomed. I leave you to imagine Sir, how troubled I was; for as I believed that Artabes had spoken to her concerning me, the last time he was with her, so I expounded this coldness in her, in a cruel sense: Megabises, as I have heard since, he was at no more rest than I, and therefore passed all that afternoon in much melancholy: But here may be admired Sir, how Fortune disposes of things; All the while I was thus tormenting myself, and had trusted the conduct of my Love unto a Friend who had betrayed me, my Father, I knowing nothing of it, was an earnest solicitor for my happiness, as you shall know. I was then very melancholic both at the absence of Artabes, and the coldness which I observed in the Countenance of Amestris; when my Father sent for me, and propounded unto a Marriage, with the Daughter of Artambaces, not only as a thing which he wished might be, but as a thing already done up amongst them. Sir, Replied I, this which you propose is too advantageous to be consented unto without much Joy: But do you think Sir, that Amestris does resent it with the like gladness? Amestris, answered he, does not yet know of it; but I believe she is so well educated to be obedient unto her Parents, who I know do desire it as much as I; Sir, said I to him, I would know it from Amestris, and not from Artambaces; It is your own office (replied my Father) to inform yourself of her thoughts and desires: I leave you to judge Sir, how infinitely I was joyed at such welcome news: it was so abundantly pleasant, that I relished it but imperfectly, and it moved such violence in my soul that I could not resent it as I ought: Oh Heavens, how oft did I wish, the perfidious Artabes were there to be a witness of my good fortune, and to ask him pardon for the displeasure Megabises did resent: Mean time, because I thought it strange, that they should marry me Amestris, before I had acquainted her with my Love; I took an occasion the next morning to visit her, and it was my happiness to find her alone: I observed, that she did often change colour, and I imagined, as indeed it was true, that she had been acquainted with the intention of Artambaces concerning our Marriage, of which he had spoken unto her, an hour before I came: But alas Sir, what strange inquietudes did this fair and amiable divinity afford me? and how great were my fears, that she had no dislike of me, because they had propounded it unto her! Madam (said I to her almost trembling) dare Aglatidas be so bold as to ask the fair Amestris, whether the many change which he perceives in her fair face, be a good or a bad omen for him? I think, said she (blushing very much) that I have heard the Magis say, that men ought not to consult with any but the Stars, to know their Fortunes, and not to trouble themselves at such lame and slight observations. I think (replied I) that those who desire to know whether they shall be Rich, or fortunate in War, aught to do as you say; but I believe that they who would know nothing else but what the heart of Amestris thinks, aught to consult with nothing but her eyes; and aught to ask their good fortune from nothing else but them. Amestris (answered she) is is not considerable enough to give Felicity or bad fortune unto any: But, Aglatidas may believe that Amestris will never seek her own good fortune, but by the will of those who ought to dispose of her: But Madam, said I, if those whom you speak of should advise you unto a thing which is repugnant unto your mind, would you obey them without murmur? I would, doubtless (replied she) as long as I have life; and I hold it better for myself to do that which I ought, then to do that which pleaseth me: It is a most severe virtue, replied I, and methinks it is a little too blind an obedience; for Madam, unto how much despair would that man be driven, who should be so happy as by the choice of your parents to be a husband unto the divine Amestris, if he should afterwards know that she obeyed her parents only, and married him by constraint? I would hide my thoughts so close, answered she, that he should never know it: Ah Madam, said I to her, do not abuse yourself so much, this is a thing which cannot be; Therefore Madam, I conjure you by all that is most yenerable and holy, to tell me ingenuously upon what terms am I in your heart? for I cannot think myself more unhappy, then that you should be ignorant how you are absolute Commander over mine; yes Madam, said I, you know that since the first minute I had the honour to see you, I have loved you with unequalled passion: that I have served you with as much reverence as any can the Gods; and secretly adored you with every atom of my heart: Then Madam, it's your part to let me know whether I must hope or fear, whether you can endure me without aversion, or whether you like me out of Complacency without compulsion; it is absolutely in you to determine upon either my good or my bad fortane: I have already told you (replied she) that I have no power in my own felicity, and therefore by consequence cannot have in another's: But Aglatidas, since I have received a command from Artambaces and Hermanista to entertain you, when you speak of your affection, let me tell you with much sincerity, that I think the choice which they have made for me is very advantageous for me, and so much, that when I understood it, I was in much confusion; and if you observed any alterations in my countenance, doubtless it was, because I was ashamed to be no more worthy of the honour which you do me, than I am: Amestris pronounced these words with such reservedness, that I could not discover her heart, which put me into great perplexity and melancholy: I was at this time almost angry with my father for so soon putting forward my good fortune; for, said I to myself, how should I know now whether or no Amestris loves me; Amestris, I say, who is the wisest Lady upon earth, and one who would dwell with the ill-favour dost man if she once married to him: So very much was I possessed, Sir, with this kind of unquietude, that I could not hide it from Amestris: Madam (said I to her) you see here before you the most happy and the most unhappy man both, of all men upon earth: The most happy, in the noble hope which Artambaces gives unto my father, that Amestris will not refuse me; but the most unhappy, in that I cannot know whether Aglatidas be the choice of Amestris or Artambaces: What will it advantage you to know it, or to know that which I know not myself? For as I have ever been strongly of this opinion, that I ought not to dispose of myself, so I am contented to deny my heart my own choice, and submit myself unto a blind obedience: Then Madam (said I unto her) if your Parents should command you to accept of Megabises or Otanes, would you obey them? I have already confessed it if I be not much mistaken, replied she: Oh heavens (cried I) Madam, why will you not make me happy? I will not deny you happiness (answered Amestris) if my consent be necessary unto it: But Madam (said I, interrupting her) how shall I be assured that your consent is more than a constrained obedience? since you tell me that you will obey, though never so repugnant to your mind: You are very unjust Aglatidas, said she to me, to desire that I should tell you my thoughts, and I only to guests at yours; therefore endeavour to discover them if you can, and content yourself to know thus much, that Artambaces has the heart of Amestris in his power, and if he dispose of it unto you, as very likely he will, than you shall have an absolute and lawful power over it: This is not yet enough Madam, said I unto her, I would precisely know what you thought of Aglatidas at that very time before Artambaces did speak unto you in his behalf? I thought, said she, doubtless as all other reasonable people would think: But were you so absolutely indifferent, said I to her: You are too inquisitive (answered she smiling and blushing both) and if I should continue answering you thus, it should go hard but I would say something which should be either to your disadvantage or my own. After this manner Sir did this wise and nimble Lady free herself from my persecution, and cured me a little of my melancholy humour; for I thought she spoke these last words in such a manner that I might very well expound them in a favourable sense for myself: Then thought I myself most happy; and if Artabes had but been at Ecbatan, there was nothing more which I could have wished; yet since persons of Quality do never marry in Medea, without the King's consent, Artambaces and my Father did conceal it some certain days, until they found a fit time to acquaint Astyages with it; But Sir, they were happy days for Aglatidas, what delights did he not find in the conversation of Amestris: for since her Father commanded her to respect me as one that was to be her husband, I found in her soul so sweet a complacence, and observed such tenderness towards me, that I might very well say, I was fully recompensed by these blessed minutes, for all the ill ones that ever I suffered: Yet she would never confess that she loved me, or ever did love me; but permitting me to hope what might be hereafter, she said enough to satisfy me that she did not hate me: Artambaces and my Father having met with that fit opportunity which they waited for, spoke unto the King concerning our marriage, who presently consented unto it, because he knew not that Megabises pretended unto Amestris: The consent of Astyages was no sooner obtained, but immediately the matter was divulged about the Court: Megabises being presently informed of it, went presently unto the King, and desired him to forbid the Banes; but the King told him he spoke too late, that his word was past, and the thing was absolutely without remedy: Megabises went away from the King sufficiently Malcontent, and resolved of another way to compass his end, he sought an occasion to meet me, and having found me, without any more preamble, Aglatidas (said he to me with a low voice in my ear) you shall not enjoy Amestris, but by the death of Megabises; therefore, without more ado, let us go out at the gate which opens towards the Mountains, and complete your joys by my destruction. Megabises (said I to him) I need no pressing to go whither you would have me; but I confess I would not, if possible otherwise, take Sword in hand against the brother of Artabes: But you may (replied he) if you will yield Amestris unto me: Amestris, replied I, Ah, no no, Megabises, I can never yield her, and if there be no other way to give you satisfaction, we must follow your intention: In saying so we went out, as soon as we were rid of those which were about us, and came unto the foot of a great Rock under a great Hill, where he would have us fight, I confess that the friendship of Artabes troubled me a little, and I had no mind to lose the blood of his brother: But when I began to think that Megabises was my Rival, and that the possession of his Amestris depended upon his life or death, all other considerations vanished, and fury become master of my spirit: We were no sooner at the place which he aimed at, but we drew our Swords, for it was so near the Tower, that though we were on foot, yet we need no taking our breaths: Megabises came up to me with so much fury and violence, as let me know I had a dangerous enemy to deal with; and I dare say he received me with so much resolution, as he had no ill opinion of my courage; We being both of us nimble and well skilled at weapon, did hold out many blows without a wound, which I believe did anger us both: So that we resolved to put the matter unto Fortune, and not to stand fencing any longer. Artabes, the politic Artabes, having in all likelihood invented some new cheat for us, and returning to Town, saw us afar off at the foot of the Rock; who not knowing who we were, rid up unto us with drawn Sword to part us: But, O heavens, how he was surprised when he knew us; and what variety of thoughts he had upon it: Megabises being his brother, it may easily be believed, he would entreat me to hold, and regarding me as his friend, he obliged his brother to use his Sword no more against me: But when he did resent us as his Rivals, I know not whether he had a mind to set upon us both, and lay aside all respects of fraternity or friendship: yet natural resentments always appearing first upon sudden accidents, Artabes no sooner saw us and knew us, but he cried out as loud us he could to hold our hands: his voice being known unto us both, and both Megabises and myself being moved at it, we turned aside and saw Artabes with drawn Sword, as I said before, who having got between us, in parting us, not lighting from his horse, What strange fury possesses you (said he unto us) and what new quarrel is risen between you? The fault's not mine, my dear Artabes (said I to him) the Gods do know with what unwillingness I came to it; Why then 'tis you Megabises (said Artabes to him) who without consideration that Aglatidas my friend, and contrary unto your promise, have begun this quarrel in my absence? It was I indeed (replied he) who invited him to it, and who will send him to his grave, unless he either send me to mine first, or yield Amestris to me: Artabes, who knew not how things stood since his departure, and would not have his brother Megabises to enjoy Amestris, no more than he would have his friend Aglatidas; therefore looking upon us both; You are too furious (said he) and have lost your reason; I never heard say that Artambaces would give his daughter unto him that was most valiant, therefore in lieu of fight to no purpose, go both unto him together, and he to him he consents, let him continue quiet possessor of Amestris: Ah my dear Artabes, you have pronounced a most favourable sentence, for Artambaces has promised his daughter unto me: Yes, said Megabises, and the King has consented; therefore judge you if it be not time to fight with Aglatidas, or whether I am in such a condition as to follow your counsel. At these words Artabes, who doubtless would never have given that counsel, but that he imagined Artambaces would never bestow his daughter upon men that would quarrel about her, and thereby he might get advantage by it, therefore he began to change colour, and looking upon me with eyes full of rage and despair; And is it true, said he unto me, that they have promised you Amestris, and that Amestris hath consented? It is true, said I to him, and I rejoice in the good fortune, and Amestris did obey without any murmur: Ha, if it be so, said he, Megabises let me sight with the happy lover of Amestris, and do not you meddle, for I have more interest than you have, and Aglatidas shall be more innocent in causing my death, if it chance, than yours; In saying so, he fell upon me with much fury, and I stepped aside, not being willing to fight with my friend, and yet wondering from whence these words should proceed. Megabises very generously stepped in betwixt us (and incensedly said unto him) What will't thou shame us both, and make all the world believe we were two against one? Retire, or else my thoughts of honour and love shall make me forget those of nature; at these words I let fall the point of my Sword, to let Artabes see I had no desire to fight with him: How now Artabes, said I to him, can I believe what I see? and can Aglatidas imagine that Artabes is become his enemy? Ah, no no, said I, I can never believe it; for I cannot hate any unless the lovers of Amestris And it is under that notion (answered the furious Artabes, lighting from his horse, and advancing towards me) that I cannot suffer your good fortune, and which prompts me to dispute the matter with you unto my very last drop of blood: Are you a lover of Amestris? (said Megabises) as well as I? Yes, I am (replied he unto us) and so zealous a lover too, that none shall ever enjoy her as long as I live: I leave you to judge Sir, how Megabises and I did wonder; and admire a little the various effect of Artabes his language: I who a little before did love this perfidious friend, and hated Megabises, as soon as I heard him so express himself, the love I had formerly to him extinguished, and the hate which I bore unto the other suspended, this new jealousy operating upon my fancy more strongly than the old one: Megabises for his part, looking upon me as one that had been deceived by Artabes as well as himself, 〈◊〉 lessen his aversion to me, and increase his hate of the other: And Artabes being all despair and violent passion, made no difference, as I thought, between his brother and me his friend; although I think he was the most unhappy, it being to be thought, that the mage of his crime and double treason did often present itself into his mind, and tormented him without cessation; yet Artabes could not now fight with me, because indeed I refused, and because Megabises would not suffer him; and on the other side, he would not stay to be a witness of the Combat which was begun between Megabises and myself, nor was he as furious as he was able to fight against us both, nor would I have suffered him to fight with his brother. But because Megabises was not less amazed at the love of Artabes than I was; Since when, brother (if I may call you Rival, said he to him) have you been in love with Amestris? Since the first minute that ever I saw her: (answered he) What (said I to him, interrupting him) did you fall in love with her that day I carried you unto her? Yes, cruel friend, replied Artabes, it was you which forced me to go, and who forced me to betray you afterwards; to deceive Megabises, to offend Amestris, and to dishonour myself: There- Aglatidas (said he) since I can be no longer your friend, it must of necessity be that either you or I must die: It were better, said I unto him, that you did repent of your crime: I cannot repent (answered he) until Aglatidas and Megabises leave loving Amestris: Since it cannot be but upon those terms (said Megabises and I both together unto him) we must bethink ourselves whether it be better to pardon or to punish you: As we stood thus arguing the matter, we saw a number of people coming towards us, who being told that we went out of the Town together, came to seek us, having some suspicion of our quarrel: The furious Artabes, having no mind to stay, took horse, and told me in my ear, that three days hence he would expect me from morning till night, in a certain place which he appointed, and told me that if I were not the basest coward that ever lived, I would come thither and give him satisfaction: Then he presently rid away, and we lost the sight of him. Those men who sought us, did find us, and brought us to the Town, but for all their vigilance, both Megabises and I escaped them, and went out to fight some five hundred paces from Ecbatan. I will not trouble you with relating the particulars of our Combat; I will only tell you, that I was so fortunate as to hurt Megabises slightly in the hand, and disarm him: I thought it not fit to go into the Town the same day, because Megabises was allied unto the blood Royal, and it would seem some disrespect in me to fight with him, though it was not I who began the quarrel: I went therefore unto a friend's house, without thinking that this way led me unto the place which Artabes had appointed: for if I had considered it, it may be I should not have took that way, so much was my former love to him stronger than my present hate: But Sir, I forgot to tell you that in disarming Megabises, my own Sword did break, so that in the end of the Combat I could not restore unto him his own, since it seemed not just unto me that he who had the good fortune to be Conqueror, should himself be disarmed: Therefore I had then Megabises Sword, by reason of the f●ilt which was of a very extraordinary fashion: So that as I came to the place Artabes had appointed, and where he punctually expected me: he no sooner saw me but he knew the Sword of Megabises, and thought I had killed him: This fight suspended all other thoughts for a time: Why now (said he in coming towards me) I do not only see him who enjoys Amestris, but also my brother's murderer: Your brother (said I to him in going back) is not in that condition; and if it were as easy for me to leave loving Amestris, as it is to render you your brother, we should be quickly friends: That cannot be so, said he, for none of our Family use to quit their Swords but with their lives, but however it be, you must fight with me, and though that should not be, yet I have other causes to hate your life; and wish your death: In the name of the God's Artabes (said I to him) do not urge me to kill the man I so much love, and lend me so much patience as to hear me a little: Artabes at these words stayed, and did not press upon me so hard: I began then to speak of a hundred things (notwithstanding my hate, and my resentments) to bring him unto reason, though I could not do it; Why, said I to him, do you not remember that I was your friend? Yes, said he, but I remember better that you are my Rival, and such a Rival who is to marry Amestris: The Gods are my witnesses (said I to him) I would yield her to you, if it were in my power, notwithstanding all your treasons against me: So would not I, answered this desperate man) if it were my case; for if I thought my heart could stoop to yield her unto any one, I would run my Sword through it, for a punishment for a thought so base and unworthy of Amestris, But, replied I, though I should not marry Amestris, perhaps Artabes would never be the better, but another might be more happy than us both: That other, replied he, should be unto Artabes as Aglatidas is at present, that is, a man whose sight nor life I could endure: If I look upon you a 〈…〉 friend, I am confounded at my treacheries which I cannot reperit of; If I look upon you as the Vanquisher of my brother; I must revenge his dishonour: If I look upon you as my Rival, I must hate you, and kill you if I can: But, said I to him, must I sight with you with the Sword of Megabises? and wound you with the Arms of your brother? My brother, said he, is my Rival as well as you, and you employ none but the Arms of an enemy against me, when you employ his: In the name of our former friendship (said I to him) do not force me to fight: In the name of our hatred and love to Amestris (replied he) discourse no more: Upon these words he fell upon me, and I was forced to look to myself: I was a long time only putting by the blows he gave, so long that I observed his anger and fury had lost him his judgement; he struck at random, and laid himself open all the while, and if I had a mind, I could have run him through a hundred times: But when I observed how he fought, I pitied him: and he should not have died if he himself had not caused his destruction: When the Combat had lasted a long while, he observed how I spared him, and then that which should have relented him, did the more exasperate his fury; so that making a Pass at me, and stepping on the wrong side with great violence he ran himself upon my sword, which pierced him to the hilt; I drew it out instantly, but it seemed I gave a freer passage for his soul, for he died immediately without speaking one word. I confess to you Sir, I never found myself more troubled then now, for indeed I loved Artabes very dearly, more I was sorry it should so fall out as as to be with his Brother's sword; but that which I was most sensible of, was, because it would retard my marriage, and force me for a time to forbear the Court, since Artabes was a man of that Quality: yet it so fell out that Artabes fell upon me, there were divers people Spectators of our actions, and such as were able to testify in my behalf if necessity should require it: But as my sorrows were extreme, after I had entreated those people to take care of the body of my unfaithful and unfortunate friend, I went unto a Kinsman's house not far off that place: I was no sooner there but I dispatched a Letter to my Father, to Artambaces, and to Amestris, to acquaint him with the accident, and I neglected nothing which was fit to be done upon such an unlucky occasion: I will not lose so much time as to relate the various censures of several men, since you will easily conjecture them: The death of Artabes made a great noise throughout the Court: The chance to fight with two Brothers in a day, and to kill Artabes with his Brother's Sword, were circumstances, that in appearance did aggravate the matter; but in substance did not at all make me more guilty: yet notwithstanding, Astyages seemed much incensed, and Megabises thought his Brother had betrayed him, and was his Rival, yet he could not choose but show much resentment of his death, and cloak the interest of his Love with Revenge of his Brothersdeath: Artambaces therefore and my father resolved that for a while I should keep close, and get from Ec●atrn as I could, to the end a new quarrel with Migabises might be prevented; and they did both of them contribute all their endeavours to compose the matter: they had no sooner resolved upon my departure, but I was acquainted with it; and that I did foresee as much, yet I could not choose but be much surprised at it: The thought of that felicity wherein I was before, and the condition wherein now I was fallen, did so much sad me, as I hardly had the power over my own reason; I therefore sent to beseech my Father that he would be pleased to give me a little time to resolve upon this irksome departure, and to prepare myself for it, which was easily granted unto, because he knew I was in a House which you safely conceal me; and he thought, though Astyages was much incensed against him, yet he supposed that he would not long continue so against the Son of one who had so long time served him. I stayed here some few days, during which time I want three Letters unto Amestris, to obtain leave of her that I might come, and bid her adien, but notwithstanding all my urgent prayers, and reasons, I believe she would never have suffered me, if I had not employed a Kinsman unto net, who was also a prevalent friend of hers: In conclusion Sir, I obtained Licence to come one night into the stately Gardens which are about a hundred paces from Ecbatan upon the South side, and whose vast extent was such, that it deserved the phrase of a great Park rather than a great garden: Hither it is where those who are weary of the tumultuous Town, use; to come and walk, there being much less company than in the King's Garden, or upon the Bank of Orantes. Perhaps you remember Sir, that in that place there is a great Border whose Partitions are grass, in the midst of which there is a stately Fountain whose Bassin is half sable, half argent; whose sides are coloured Massy green, whose largeness and coolness affords a very pleasant neat unto those which desire to rest themselves: Then Sir, this great border is environed with a Table and thick wood, in which is many paths cut, and which by a hundred turns and returns makes the walk very long and difficult to find the way out. Also it is much less frequented that not at all less pleasant than the rest; But because the other borders are nearer the entrance, therefore they were more used, and none but solitary and melancholy persons used to go unto this Fountain: It was in this place where the fair Amestris being perswadeed by my Kinswoman and her Friend resolved to meet me: It would be hard Sir for me to tell you all the joy which I received at this welcome news: I forgot that I was to see her upon terms of bidding her farewell, and never thought of what might follow this interview. I thought only of her permitting me to see her in a place where I might discourse of my Love; and where perhaps I might receive some testimony from her that she was not displeased with me. I came thither before break of day for fear of discovery: I passed away all the morning and the afternoon in a little Lodge at the far end of the Walk, where none dwelled but the Gardener, who for a little money will do what you please; the Sun no sooner began to decline near her Bed, but I arose, and went into the thick wood which compasseth about the green border of grass, looking and longing with much impatiency for the coming of Amestris with abundance of impatience; The wind whifled not a leaf, but I thought I heard her coming, and her fair Idea presented itself so lively in my fancy, as though I saw her often when I saw her not: At last, the Sun being set, this glorious Star appeared, and I saw her come out of a part of the Wood, attended by my Kinsman, and three or four of her women; for though this secret meeting was no crime, yet this wife Lady did choose rather to come accompanied with a reasonable number then a few. I no sooner saw her, but I went to meet her, and presenting her my hand, I led her unto the Fountain, where we were certain to be heard by none, nor fear any surprisal: At first I thanked her for her goodness towards me with all the reverence and respect that was possible; but since time was precious, she was no sooner seated, but I kneeling unto her, whilst my Cousin and the rest of her women discoursed of the beauty of the place, some six paces from us: Madam (said I to her) may the unfortunate Aglatidas believe that you have honoured him so far as to see him here with a good will? and was it not by chance that he hath this delight to meet you? No, Aglatidas (answered she) it was by my own consent that I see you, and I believe that my Father having commanded me to honour you very much, would think it no crime in me to give you this testimony of my esteem, and (if I durst say it) of my friendship: Ha Madam (said I to her) hide not my happiness from me, and if it be so that I am so happy as to move you unto any slight acknowledgement of my Passion, let me know Madam, whether it be your pleasure to preserve my life, and think not that I am of their humour who use to flatter themselves, and expound all things to their own advantage; but on the contrary I do always use to be jealous of myself, and doubt whether any can esteem me: therefore Madam, I beseech you be so indulgent unto my weakness as not to incline so much unto that severe humour, which makes you think Love to be a crime, and which causeth you to use only these cruel words of esteem and friendship in all your discourse, but those of Love and Passion are never heard from you: Be pleased to consider that I am an unfortunate man, and am to be an Exile in some Country where I can find no joy: Think I conjure you that I have need of some consolation, during this cruel absence, and that if you do not afford me some signs of your affection, I must die with despair and sorrow; Do you think Aglatidas (said she to me) that these are small things which I do for you? to come into the Garden, to admit you private Discourse, and to hear you discourse of your Passion, which how lawful soever it be, yet has danger in it since it is so powerful? and which cannot be endured by a maid without injury to her modesty, if she be really reasonable: Why Madam (said I to her) does a Passion which Artambaces and Hermanista approve of leave any scruple in the mind of Amestris? and is it a crime in Aglatidas, (who has not one single thought to offend you) to tell you of his Love? Ha Madam, if it be so, I shall think myself the most unhappy man upon earth; No No, Aglatidas (said she to me) I will not be so severe: I confess (said she casting down her eyes) that I esteem too much to be angry with you for loving me, and I wish you may always do so; I know not Aglatidas, if it were true that I did love you, since you would have me believe you love me; I know not I say whether it be not out of course to tell you as much, or whether it be not better to let you guests at my thoughts, then to explain them plainly; for indeed Aglatidas (said she) absence does often weaken the strongest affections: and if it should so fall out that you should alter, Amestris should never enjoy herself, if she had once confessed herself sensible of your Love: Ha Madam (said I unto her) let not that consideration deprive me of one favourable word from you: and be confident that when Aglatidas does not love his adored Amestris, than he is not in this world: Time and absence are two potent enemies (Replied she) Yes Madam, against weak men (replied I) but Aglatidas is not of that number, your fair eyes have too strongly tied his heart ever to be disengaged. But you Madam (said I) whom all the earth adores, does tell me that you have reserved one corner of your soul for some one of my illustrious Rivals, which you have not given unto me; for Madam I must conclude this from all that you have said, that I am beholding unto Artambaces for all the favours of Amestris: You are not beholding to him for this Walk (replied she) since none knew of it: Good gods Madam (said I to her looking upon her) will you not determine my fate? and either positively tell me you hate Aglatidas, or you love him? the first is not just (Replied she) and the other though it were no fault yet it were not very handsome. I beseech you then Madam (said I to her) be pleased to let me explain all your actions, and all your words unto my advantage, to make your eyes confess you love me, and let silence be a consent since words must not. I permit you (said she to me blushing) to think all that will preserve the life of Aglatidas, and to bring him to me full of fidelity home again; It is enough Madam (said I to her) it is enough, and since it is your desire I should be constant, there needs no more to make me the happiest of men: But Madam since you have by such a glorious Commandment engaged me to be faithful, dare I then persuade myself, that since you have done so, you will be so yourself? Believe it Aglatidas (said she then unto me) Amestris does not use to engage her heart upon easy terms, and since you have a Place in it, nothing shall take it out but death: I leave you to judge Sir what effects these favourable words wrought in my soul; Then I took Amestris by the hand, and kissing it whether she would or no, with as much reverence as love, I thanked her in such passionate terms, that I dare say they mollified her heart; yet since I left Megabises, Otanes, and a hundred more in Love, Madam (said I to her) I have one favour to desire which I dare hardly name, and which yet I cannot conceal: then she pressed me to know what it was, assuring me that any thing which was not unjust, should not be denied: that which I desire Madam is, if without forfeiture of my respect I may name it, that you would be pleased to be as reserved of your favours as you can both unto Megabises and Otanes, and a hundred others who are your servants, and not to let all my Rivals be happy, whilst the unfortunate Aglatidas suffers unimaginable torments: I do ingeniously confess, Madam, that my desire is unreasonable, but Love knows no Laws of reason, nor can be kept within limits: I cannot promise you (answered she) not to see them whom you call your Rivals: but I will assure you I will not give them any favourable respect: This is too little to satisfy my jealousy Madam (Replied I) unless you will be pleased to do me so much honour as to promise me to respect them as little as can be possibly: for Madam (said I) though your eyes be never so much displeased, yet they are always lovely, so sprightly and so divine, that it is much better to see them in their anger, than not to see them at all: Therefore Madam I beseech you have compassion upon my imbecility, and refuse me not the consolation to hope that my enemies shall not gain by my absence: and that I may not be the only man which shall be deprived of that happiness in seeing you: I would Aglatidas (said she to me) see your heart at rest concerning that, and assure yourself that I will with as much care affect a solitude, as I should rejoice in your presence and preservation: But in consenting unto this which you desire, I must tell you thus much, that I will engage myself no further than civility will permit, thinking it not just I should promise more: That perhaps may be too little Madam (said I) to satisfy my Love, though it be enough to satisfy one that gives Laws unto the whole world, and receives none from any but his own will: And indeed it is too much for me, if I do rightly consider my little and your great merit, I should consume too much time Sir, if I should relate all that was spoken at this sad but pleasant conference, but since it was grown very late, Amestris would part, and I parted from her both with sorrow and satisfaction: The more obliging words she had given me, the more unhappy did I conceive myself in leaving her: and I could almost have wished that she had been less favourable, that I might have been less grieved: After I had a while continued my so much interested thoughts, I did so much love the cause of my grief that my grief became precious and pleasant unto me: And I cherished them with more care than I can express unto you: and from that fatal minute when I left Amestris, until this, wherein I speak unto you, I almost never ceased from entertaining them: I followed Amestris by my eyes as long as possible, and parted from her sighing, not being able to speak adieu: I returned unto my melancholy lodging, not minding my way, nor any thing else but my sorrows; The Idea of Amestris with all her attracts, and charms, and all her splendour, appeared unto me, notwithstanding the darkness of the night. Two days after this interview, I went into the Province of Arisantines▪ where Artambaces procured a convenient Retreat for me, with one of his Friends who had been Governor of a considerable place; I will not relate my Melancholy sorrows all this voyage and exile. It's enough you know that the violence of my love was so predominate in my heart, and my soul was so much infected with that Passion, as I was never at rest: And to more augment my sorrows, I was no sooner departed but I received the sad news that Hermanista being seized upon by a violent Fever, did die the seventh day, and that Artambaces who loved her with unspeakable tenderness, was fallen sick upon it; But the misfortune ended not here, but a few days after I heard that the loving Husband followed his wife to the grave: And that Amestris by Orders from the King was committed unto the Guardianship of one that was allied unto Megabises, and not at all a friend unto me: Imagine Sir, into what a condition this dismal news transported me; for I was infinitely bound unto Artambaces and Hermanista; and moreover I resented the sorrows of Amestris: I imagined that I saw her in the hands of her enemies, who would not easily suffer me to see her, and upon the whole matter, I had nothing to rely upon but the fidelity of Amestris, which me thought I had not well enough deserved, to put too much confidence to it: Not but that I knew my Father did very much desire our Marriage: But yet there was some cause to fear, lest if when he saw the King alter his mind in favour of Megabises, who had already made his peace, that then my Father should comply with the time and alter his mind, in hopes he might more easily obtain my pardon: Thus I lived in such Melancholy as may be more easily conceived then expressed: Amestris also for her part her life was very full of bitterness: I did write unto her constantly every week by an express messenger whom I sent, and she did me so much favour as to answer me, and that with so much wit and wisdom both, as her Letters moved no less wonder than love in me. As she was extremely troubled for the loss of Artambaces and Hermanista, so she writ unto me in such sad expressions as would have inspired sorrow in a soul that was in its height of jollity: She expressed such tenderness for those she loved, that I almost wished myself in the room of Artambaces and Hermanista, that I might so receive the feeling testimonies of her affection. Alas, said I, how well does this fair Lady know how to love those whom it is her pleasure to love? and how infinitely happy should I be in the enjoyment of her affection in quiet and liberty? But whilst I sigh't and complained away my days and nights, without any other comfort but the Letters of Amestris, my business rather went worse then mended, because Megabises having ingratiated himself in the King's favour, did impede it; in so much as my Father always sent me word I should come no nearer Ecbatan but rest in patience: Amestris also feared I should run some hazard for the love of her; and lest I should expose myself unto some fresh quarrel with Megabises or Otanes, who were busy about her; he prayed very importunately not to return too hastily: Thus I saw I was arrested, and remained in the most cruel anxiety that eve● did Lover; I knew that Megabises was ever upon better terms with Amestris then any other of my Rivals; that for a long time she had treated us with equal respect: that Megabises was handsome, and had Courage, Wit and Quality enough. Moreover I considered that his Estate was much augmented by the death of his brother Artabes, and that he was much in the King's favour: So that as I made all these things Arms wherewith to persecute myself, I did charge myself with all those misfortunes which I feared; imagining, that if I had not killed Artabes I should not have had such cause to fear that Megabises could marry Amestris, because he was not so rich, nor perhaps in such favour: Thus did I live the most unhappy of men, always persuading myself, that what I wished for, would never happen; and that which I feared would fall out every minute. Sometimes I could not hope that Amestris would continue sincere and faithful; sometimes I conceited her Letters were but disguisements of her thoughts, and that all the testimonies of her affection were but tricks to delude me; but yet (as I knew afterwards) the amiable Lady preserved her faith, and herself inviolably for me; for she did not only reserve her Love for me; but she acted so vigorously and so severely with all the rest of her Lovers, that if she had inspired meaner passions, her cruelty to them had absolutely cured them. But as her beauty never begot any but violent loves they could not quite give over their design, but did daily persecute her; yet her time of mourning which she did really (as well in her heart as her habit) observe, furnished her with a specious pretence of reservedness and melancholy, she kept herself within those limits as exactly a 〈…〉 upon such occasions is required: And she became so solitary and retired, as those who loved her had much ado to get so much opportunity as only to see her: The first month of her mourning being over, still she did not alter her sable mode, but did refuse all manner of diversions whatsoever; only the conversation of Menastes (for so they called him that was my kinsman and her friend) was some comfort and pleasure unto her: They went out sometimes together to walk in the same Garden where I saw her last, and she testified all that love could infuse into a virtuous Lady, and certainly he infused in my behalf as much resentments as he could into the adored Amestris: But alas, I was not a jot more happy; and I looked upon things much otherwise then they were: not but that I supposed Amestris to be faithful unto me, and did really love me: But, O heavens, this pleasant imagination, how delightful soever it was, yet did it not free me from impatience; but I had an extreme desire which moved me to go unto Ecbatan, with greater hopes to see Amestris constant, then to see Amestris unfaithful: In conclusion, I was so prompted both by my Love, and by my Jealousy, that I resolved for Ecbatan secretly, and to go unto that Gardener, where I stayed a day, when I took my leave of Amestris, and whom I found very pliable to receive gifts, and do me any good office I should employ him in; so I went with one man only, making all possible haste to be at Echatan, before any report of my departure could come either to my Father or to Amestris, because I had obliged him with whom I dwelled, not to write of it unto the Court: My design was to arrive in the night for fear of being known; and having sent my servant unto the lodging which I appointed him, I went presently to the Garden resolving to inform myself secretly how Amestris did before I saw her; after my servant had carried my horses unto their lodging at the next Town: I passed away all the night in that place where I saw her last; and calling into my memorial the favourable words which I had from her fair self; I was in such delighting satisfaction as I cannot express unto you: I know not by what secret charms this place did qualify the turbulence of my soul; but I am certain that since I came thither, not any jealousy or melancholy, or any other distempered passion troubled me, only my impatience, and longing desires to see Amestris; and that was so great, that as I told you, I walked all the night, it being an absolute impossibility to sleep. Then, as I could no way let Amestris know of my arrival but by my kinsman, I must therefore stay until day time; but I had the misfortune to understand that he was gone into the Country, and would not return until the next day: Yet notwithstanding I conceived it better to confine myself unto my patience, then to hazard the displeasure of Amestris, by letting her know the news by any way then as she was accustomed to receive it. I will not tell you Sir, how restless I was that day in the Gardiner's house, whither I was retired, to prevent my discovery: But I will tell you that as soon as the Sun was set, that I thought there was no danger to be within the little paths of the thick wood which compassed about the grass border, in the midst of which was the Fountain, as I have already told you▪ then I went thither to rejoice myself in that place, where I last saw her I loved: I look upon all the places where Amestris had been, especially that where she did sit: It was here, in this very place (said I) where the incomparable Amestris assured me of her constancy, when she commanded it upon me, and where she permitted me to think any thing that might conduce unto the preservation of Aglatidas, and bring him back full of fidelity unto her: See (said I to myself, and as if I had seen her) see here adored Amestris, the same Aglatidas, the very same you desired him to be, that is the most faithful, the most amorous, and most passionate of all your Lovers: But my loved and adored Amestris (said I) I hope you also will retain the same I left you; and I hope to have nothing to contend about, but that severe virtue which forbids you things most innocent: As I was in the midst of these pleasant contemplations, I discovered through the boughs of trees, on the other side of the green Border, one who seemed to be Amestris, waited upon by three other women. I looked upon her most earnestly, and I was confirmed in my belief: I saw she made towards the Fountain, after she had looked about her, to see if the coast was clear from any interruption of her solitude, she sat down by that pleasant source, directly in the same place where I kneeled unto her when I took my leave: She leaned her head on one side upon her left hand, which did lie upon the moss-colour edge of the Fountain, and letting her right hand negligently upon her garment, she looked upon the water like one that was in a profound study, at least as I might judge by her posture, for her face was not towards me: But, O heavens, what operation had this vision upon my soul? My heart trembled, my spirits were disordered; and I was not master of my reason; I would have advanced towards her, though I had not power to stir: and I know not what odd fancy, which I cannot express, moved me to stay unseen, rejoicing a while at that good fortune which chance afforded me beyond my hopes: Indeed Sir, my joy was so absolutely predominate to my soul, as I was never sensible of the like; for I did not only see Amestris in a place where I hoped presently to speak unto her, but I saw her in such a place as moved me to think she thought of me; and that the end of her coming thither was but to remember our last discourse: O most happy Aglatidas, said I to myself, what dost thou muse upon? Why dost thou not present thyself unto thy faithful Amestris? upon these words, violently bending the bows which hindered my passage, I was going out of the wood to throw myself at her feet, and to interrupt the thoughts she had of Aglatidas, by rendering her Aglatidas himself: But when I was almost out of the Wood, and ready to enter into the green Border, I saw one on the other side, who by his garb and gallant array, seemed to be a man of quality: Then I retired with as much haste, as I advanced before, and as Love is always ingenious to persecute those who acknowledge it for their Sovereign, I suddenly exchanged my joy for inquietude; which of my Rivals is this, said I, which comes to interrupt the thoughts of divine Amestris from her dear Aglatidas? Ha, said I, if it be true, that I am in any corner of her heart, why should I envy him that throws himself at her feet, to acquaint her with his passion? But who knows, said I presently, whether or no Amestris does not stay her to meet this happy Rival? and whether she do not profane that place by her infidelity, which I took to be a testimony of her affection? Doubtless (said I, being much transported, and hardly myself, when I saw him advance towards her) this inconstant woman stays for him; for if it were not so, he would not make such haste, but would approach her with less straining himself: But, O heavens, what multiplicity of sorrows seized upon me, when I perfectly saw that he who came unto her was not only my Rival, but the most of all dangerous Rivals, Megabises▪ I could not think on it without extraordinary turbulence: Yet since from the place where I lay hid I could not see the face of Amestris, neither durst I change place for fear of making such noise as might discover me, therefore I could not precisely know whether she saw him coming or no: Yet as jealousy blinds all objects, I did imagine she saw him coming towards her; and by consequence, because she did not rise and go to him, therefore I believed she stayed for him; and that there was a great familiarity between them, because she did him not the honour to salute him, nor use any manner of Ceremony: I know not Sir how I should express unto you my sad resentments at that time; but I am most certain that Love did never invent any so cruel to torment those she would punish, then that which I endured upon this occasion. In conclusion Sir, to make it known unto you, that what joy soever the sight of that fair and dear Person had given me in the instant before, I must tell you I could not choose but passionately desire I were destroyed, I wished she would rise and be gone from that place: But, said I, if she go away I shall see her no more, yet if she stay, I may perhaps see her bestow her favours upon my Rival; If she should rise he would follow her, and I should not see the manner of his treatment: But if she do not go away, said I, is it not an infallible proof that Megabises and she are upon good terms? Go then, adored Amestris (said I, joining my hands) and stay not for my greatest enemy: But alas, this illustrious Lady, never thought of going; for she was so taken up with thoughts of Aglatidas and his long absence, that she never saw Megabises, until he was so near her that she could not shun him. She no sooner perceived him, but she rose, contrary to my expectation: and as I knew afterwards, asked him with much severity, why he came to molest her solitude: But, oh Heavens, as I did not see the face of Amestris, nor her sidelity to me, nor her rigour towards Megabises, so I was not a jot satisfied: I was in a hundred minds to rush out of the wood, and break off their discourse which I could not understand: I thought to assault Megabises before the face of Amestris: yet seeing he had not a Sword, and I but one, I changed that design and deferred my revenge; and notwithstanding my despair, my jealousy, and all I saw, I had so great a respect unto Amestris, that though Megabises had had a Sword as I had mine, yet in consideration of her, I think that I should not have dared to have set upon him; besides the consideration of a scurvy noise which this manner of doing it would have raised: Therefore than I remained an immovable spectator of this tedious discourse: for as I exactly learned aftwards, after she had showed Megabises how ill she took his abrupt intrusion, she would have gone away: but he did conjure her so urgently to hear him, as the last time, protesting unto her, that if after he had expressed himself, she should then for bid him any hopes of her affection, he would never importune her any more, nor see her; Amestris thinking she had found a good occasion to be delivered from the persecution of Megabises, told him at the last, that he might speak, upon condition it should be the last time; and upon condition he would absolutely resolve, to follow her order whatsoever it might be: Megabises being glad in the midst of his despair, that he had obtained permission to speak, after a low reverence, thanked Amestris for the favour she had done him: But alas Sir, How deep a wound did this thanks make in my heart? and how little did I understand the truth of the passage? the Fountain was in the midst of the Green Border; the Border was very large; the Wood which compassed it about, was every where equally distant from the midst where they were, and the Border round: I was too far off to understand: I could come no nearer without discovery: I saw not the face of Amestris: I saw Megabises in a posture of thanks for some favour, and I could conceive nothing but cause of despair; nor do nothing, but endure the most intolerable Hell that ever was. Yet Megabises, not to lose his precious time, whereupon the joy or the sorrow of all his life did depend, began to speak unto her in these terms: You know Madam, said he to her, that my Love to you has ever been so full of reverence, that it never almost durst appear in your eye, but when despair had robbed me of my reason, and forced me to reveal it: Yes Madam, I have suffered, I have endured without complaint, until the news of that good fortune which Aglatidas was to enjoy, for me to dispute with him for an Honour, unto which I thought I had as much right as he: For, indeed Madam, our Qualities are equal: I have Loved you since the first minute I saw you: I have served you with an unparallelled assiduity, and unexampled fidelity: and all this Madam without receiving one favourable word from you, nor one common Smile which had the least sweetness intended in it towards me: I have found you civil, it is true; as long as only matters of indifferency were in agitation: but as soon as I had discovered my Passion, ha Madam, then, those eyes, those fair eyes which I adore, never looked upon me but in anger: you have shunned me as an enemy: and to lap up all in a few words, I believe you have hated me: Yet for all this Madam, I have not left adoring you: you I say, who has deprived me of my rest, and troubled the tranquillity of my life: who has made me lose a Brother whom I much loved: you robbed him of his reason and virtue, and caused me to hate him; you have preferred the man who killed him with my own Sword: Yet Madam, I Love you still, and shall eternally Love you: yet notwithstanding there remains some beams of understanding in me, though my soul and spirits be infinitely troubled: and I desire to conjure you to tell me without dissimulation, What is the Cause of your aversion towards me? to the end I may regulate my resentments: for although I know well that your Marriage was resolved upon with Aglatidas, and I know that Artambaces Loved him, yet I am not resolved whether it was by his choice or yours. Therefore tell me Madam I conjure you, Whether your insensibility of my Love, be an effect of your Sumpathy with Aglatidas, or your natural Antipathy to Megabises: Speak Madam, I beseech you, to the end I may know after what manner I ought to transact; and fear not my despair: but on the contrary I promise to acknowledge your sincerity for a double favour when you shall pronounce the sentence of death upon me. I could Madam (said he) without further troubling myself to discover your true thoughts, make use of other means, and take other courses to effect my designs: you know that I do not stand upon ill terms with the King: and that you are at present with one of my friends and allies, who might advantage me more ways than one; and that either by cunning, or the Authority of Astyages, I could take more violent and infallible courses. But Madam, I cannot, I am not capable of such ways: the heart of Amestris is a thing which can never be gotten with satisfaction, but by herself: therefore Madam, it must be you only which with ingenuity can tell me the secret of your soul: for if it be not engaged, than I shall esteem myself a most happy man, and will not despair of good fortune; but if Madam it be engaged, it is but just, that I only should be unhappy and not be perpetually a trouble unto you, either to yourself, or to that happy Rival whom you have chosen: Speak Madam I beseech you (said he to her in a most suppliant and passionate manner) and deny not unfortunate Megabises this small favour: At these words he stopped, and with much impatience waited for the answer of Amestris, which I could not understand: But alas mine was more cruel? and when I thought that perhaps the answer of Amestris unto Megabises was favourable: I was upon the point of resolving to leave the place where I was, and interrupt their Discourse: Yet notwithstanding it being the nature of jealousy to nourish poison, and to seek that which will maintain it, and shun that which would destroy it, so I kept my station, and endeavoured to know by the countenance of Megabises, whether the answer of Amestris was gracious to him or no: for (as I told you before I could not see hers: This wise Lady then, being moved with some compassion towards Magabises, resolved to try if she could cure him, by telling him her very real thoughts: But here admire Sir the fantastical effects of Love: Amestris discovered more things now to my advantage, unto Megabises, then ever she had discovered unto me in all her life, and whilst she was telling them, I took them for so many injuries done unto my own heart, supposing all her actions and gestures to be Testimonies of a new Passion: and all those words which I could not understand to be so many infidelities: After then a little study upon that which she would answer, I know not (said she to him) whether what you tell me be your real thoughts or no; but I know very well that I will not dissemble mine: Know then Megabises that I have esteemed you according to your deserts, and I held you in a degree of friendship as long as I believed you intended nothing but civility towards me; but since you have given me such testimonies of a violent passion, I do think that I ought not to deceive you by any false ill-grounded hopes: for since I was resolved absolutely to obey my father, I would never give my own mind leave to determine upon any thing: What (said Magabises interrupting her) if Artambaces had commanded you to accept of my services, would you have consented? Doubtless I had (answered she:) But (said he) have you the same resolved blind obedience for Aglaridas? and did not your own choice precede the choice of Artambaces? It did not precede his,: answered this lovely Lady: But Megabises, it is so strongly confirmed that nothing can alter it: Never think (said she) that by acknowledging I do not hate Aglatidas, this should give you any ground for hope, that since my heart is so sensible of him, it can ever be so of yours: No Megahises deceive not yourself, I love Aglatidas, because my Father when he was dying commanded it, and because my own inclination does not refuse it, and because my own reason argues for him: But besides all this I must acknowledge something more unto you, and tell it in hopes to cure you, though I cannot without blushing tell you that I do love him, and I will love him eternally: I have no other reason to give you but I do and will love him: Love (said she) is doubtless a Passion, which if it were possible we ought not to have: But when it is entertained, and innocent as mine is, it ought to be made illustrious by an inviolable constancy; My Father's command hath rendered the original of this Passion in me to be no crime; and I must not make it become criminal by infidelity; never think Megabises that there is any thing offensive unto you in the affection I have unto Aglatidas: I chose him not, but he was given unto me, but since I have accepted of him, I must preserve him till death, and keep myself for him as long as I live: yet notwithstanding to testify that I will do all I can for you; I persuade you to regulate your thoughts if you can: Content yourself with my esteem and friendship, and be confident you shall enjoy both them as long as I live: Amostris having done speaking, the unhappy Megabises, who bore an unconceivable respect unto her, in lieu of breaking into complaints and reproaches, thanked her for her freedom and sincerity, and testified with tears in his eyes that he was much obliged unto her for offering unto him her esteem and friendship; but as he had a little changed his starion, so that I could see no more than his side; I could not perceive any melancholy in his face, I only saw a gesture, as if he had given thanks for something, which (as you may conceive) did not a little vex me; yet Megabises after he had a little deplored his misfortune, and admired at the change and his own moderation, told Amestris, that he durst not promise her an alteration in his thoughts: But at the least Madam (said he) I will so hide them that you shall never perceive them, and so far I will promise you: I will not have you (said he sighing) divide your heart: No Madam, since I can have no room in your affection such as I with never bestow your esteem nor your friendship upon me neither: Drown all those petty favours in the love you bear unto too happy Aglatidas, and give nothing unto unfortunate Megabises, only one favour which he designed to ask you: After this Madam he will be as good as his word, he will speak unto you no more: therefore Madam (said he with eyes full of teans) refuse not to grant me this Request; and permit me during this Banishments which I intent, to say, that you have not absolutely forsaken me▪ Assure yourself (said Amestris to him) any thing which will neither offend against my own duty, nor Aglatidas shall not be denied you; Say then only Madam (added he) that if despairing Megabises had been happy, he might have been loved by the divine Amestris, and that being unfortunate she hath only some slight compassion upon his misfortune: I have already said the first (answered she) and for the second, as I am neither blind nor stupid, and do see things as they are; and as I ought to see them, and to say more, I think as I ought to think of them: but ask me no more and remember your Promises: I die, if I remember them Madam (answered he) but I will never forget them: at these words he kneeled to give her thanks and bid his last adieu, and before she had any time to hinder it, or make any sign, she was displeased with it, he kissed her hand twice: Oh Heavens Sir, what did I think I saw what I now tell you? at that very instant both my Love and my Love and my Jealousle gave place unto another passion, and that was hatred; or to say better, Hatred, and Love, and Jealousy, Anger, Fury, Rage, met and mingled all together in my mind: and all striving to be predominate in my soul, put it into a great disorder, so that I had no respect for Amestris; I began then to come out of the wood where I was hid, and resolved to bestow a thousand taunts upon her, and perhaps worse upon Megabises, when presently I discovered the King attended by the whole Court, who contrary to custom came to walk there: the Guards no sooner appeared but Amestris parted from Megabises, who for his part went to lament his misfortunes in some solitary place; But they neither of them came towards the place where I was, and stayed alone, not being able either to complain or revenge myself: I went into the thick of the wood, but so tormented by all passions that I could not fix my mind upon any object; I no sooner began to think of the infidelity of Amestris, but I thought of Megabises his good fortune: and as soon as I thought to come plain of my Mistess, but I began a design to revenge myself upon my Rival: My soul was so tormentingly tosled that I was not a minute at quiet in myself; yet as the King came late, so he stayed not long: Night coming on apace I only waked and stayed in the Garden, I remember the Moon shined very weakly that night, because she was at the last end of her course, and that dim Melancholic light suited best with my humour, after I had sent my Servant to fetch my Horses, I passed away the night without setting down or resting myself, only a little while upon the side of the Fountain: I walked in every path, and one might have said I was seeking my Mistress and my Rival in every corner of the wood, although I knew neither of them were there; But when I came to the place where I saw them together, It was here (said I) where I saw the unfaithful Amestris bestow a favour upon my Rival, such a one as I durst never pretend unto: Here it was, in this place (added he) where I received such a favour as I thought none could ever have obtained but myself: Yes Amestris, I thought your virtue was so precise that without the assistance of Artambaces I should never have obtained any place in your heart: but for aught I see, Megabises needs none to help him unto the Sovereignty of your heart; and your inconstancy has excluded the unfortunate Aglatidas: But cruel Lady (said he) must you needs choose the very same place which was the only Testimony of that love you gave me, and there bestow your favours upon Megabises? Must you needs betray me there where you promised your fidelity unto me? Is it possible but that in speaking unto Megabises you should remember Aglatidas? Does not the murmur of this Fountain, with which you saw me mingle my tears at parting, put you in mind of him? Did not that mosse-green Cushion upon which you leaned remember you that I bedewed it with my tears? Cruel and perfidious Lady, have you forgot how you drew back your fair hand which I would have kissed, and which Megabises hath obtained with your full consent: Why (unjust and ungrateful Amestris) were you so liberal unto him, and so niggardly of your fayours unto me? Do you not remember how you permitted me to think of any thing that might preserve Aglatidas, and bring him back unto you full of fidelity? Would you have him preserve himself only to ruin him? and did you desine him to continue constant, to the end he might be more sensible of your infidelity? If it had been your mind I should have been unhappy, had not that been enough, but you must make me sensible of it also? Had it not been more honour for you to have treated me ill then to betray me? You had been only cruel then, and perhaps less unjust; but as you have now used me; you are cruel, wicked, perfidious, and inhuman; But alas (said I) is it possible that all the while I courted Amestris, she did not love me? Whether it is that she always did deceive me or has changed her mind? Must I look upon Amestris, as one that is a cheat, and insensible, such a one as laughs at the misfortunes of another? or must I think her weak, unconstant, and a Lover of novelty? who loves those she sees, and forgets those she sees not? Such a one as gives her heart to any, that asks it? But alas (said I) that heart, that glorious heart, has cost me too dear in the obtaining for that to be so. How many tears have I dropped? how many unprofitable sighs? and what abundance of pains have I taken before I could receive the least shadow of any good will unto me? what then can I think of you unfaithful Amestris? have you ever loved me? or have you ever hated me? Ha, No No (said I presently) you did love me when I last left you; I discovered your heart moved, I perceived in your eyes whether you would or no, some tears of tenderness which your modesty did strive to keep in: You did hide some of your resentments from me, you grieved when I left you, and certainly you did then love me most lovely Amestris; But unhappy man▪ that I am, you did not love me more than you had reason for: I 〈◊〉 (said I) that absence is most dangerous, but alas, I was absent for the love of you. Moreover you have always writ unto me, as if you had continued faithful and 〈◊〉 I see you the most unfaithful woman that ever was: Ha, too happy Megabises (said I) never think you shall enjoy your happiness quietly: for I must revenge the wrong that you have done me. Is it thou, who by some trick or other has altered the heart of Amestris; and seduced her from her good inclinations to me: It must be thou doubtless who is the only cause of her Crime, and my misfortune: I will therefore have this respect unto Amestris, as not to speak any thing unto her concerning it; nor complain of her injustice, nor charge any but him only who has made her culpable. But Oh Heavens (said I) Amestris is one of an excellent wit and judgement; she cannot easily be deceived: Artabes as cunning as he was, could do no good upon her: No, no; let me not flatter myself (said I) the heart of Megabises holds correspondence with Amestris; she is as culpable as he: and he enjoys not her affection, but because she has given it unto him. If I should tell you all I said, Sir, and all I thought upon, I should not finish my sad story this night, but should too much abuse your patience and goodness: I will only relate, that I intended a hundred times to quit Amestris, to forget her, and scorn her: then again I resolved a hundred times also, to repent and Love her eternally, maugre her crime: there was only one resolution which I kept constantly in my mind, which was, to kill Megabises, wheresoever I found him; but yet I did not know sometimes whether I should Love or hate Amestris: yet however I was fixed upon it to ruin my Rival: Day and my Horses were no sooner come, but I sent my Servant to know whether Megabises was with her, and inform me of it; but to my ill fortune, he was gone into the Country, and none of his men could tell which road he took: This chance did much displease me; and the thought, that this meeting of Megabises and Amestris, was only to bid adieu in that place, did double my despair: Then I sent to see whether Menasta was returned out of the Country, to the end I might make my complaints unto her of the perfidy of her friend; but I understood she was fallen sick, and could not so suddenly return: Then was I the most despairing man upon earth: I had seen such passages as moved me not to doubt of the Infidelity of Amestris: I saw her more fair than ever, at least in my imagination: My Rival was absent; my only confident was sick, so that I had no opportunity either to lament or revenge myself. I stayed two days close in a little Town near Ecbatane, in this deplorable condition, with intentions to be informed whether Megabises was gone; but do what I could, there was no certainty of it to be learned: I was only told that he went that way which leads into the Province of the Arisantines, which was the place of my retreat: yet because there was divers cross ways conducting to several places, I could not conclude any certainty thereupon; yet I did imagine that he was gone to seek me out and fight with me, that so he might more quietly enjoy Amestris: This thought made such impression in me, that I took horse to return, enquiring very exactly all the way for him: sometimes thinking I had found him, and then presently found myself deceived: I came at last to the place of my retreat without any intelligence of Megabises: At my return I found a Letter from Amestris which came during my absence, and which did vex me so much as it would have pleased me if my mind had not been prepossessed: but since it is not very long, and serves to the purpose which I intent, I will relate it to you; and if I be not mistaken it was thus indicted;  
From Amestris unto Aglatidas.  
SInce you have so much Curiosity and desire to know how I do, and what my diversions are, know, that I do shun the tumultuous Court as much as handsomely I can; that there is only one, whose Conversation I can endure without regret; and that I do as much as I can, make this Conversation solitary and retired, you may very well imagine that I do not choose the Gardens of the Palace for my walks, but the Fountain in the Green Plain, is the ordinary place where I entertain that only one Person, who at present can afford me any delight in Ecbatane: there it is where I entertain myself: I will not tell you Aglatidas all my thoughts in this retired place, for perhaps it will more conduce unto your quiet, to keep you ignorant; and perhaps also it will be more advantageous unto Amestris if you do not guests at them.  
I beseech you Sir, to wonder at the odness of this accident; If I had received this Letter, before I had seen what I did, I had been ravished with joy: for than I should have understood this solitude whereof she speaks, to have been for the Love of Aglatidas; I should have taken that only Person which she could endure, to have been my Cousin with whom she had discoursed of me; I should have thought her going to the Fountain in the Green Plain, had been to remember the last time I saw her: and should doubtless have thought her Letter to be infinitely obliging, since in telling me it would not conduce to my quiet, that I should know her musing thoughts, I should have interpreted her meaning was, that the knowledge of her sorrows would augment mine: And I should have thought that none could express affection more strongly and gallantly than she did in the end of her Letter, in saying, that perhaps also it would be advantageous for her that I should not guests her thoughts: But Sir, this Letter did work a far different effect in my mind; and I expounded it in a quite opposite sense to what she did mean it: I did apprehend it so inhuman, that seeing she betrayed me and had written to me in a double sense, I believed that the more to oblige Megabises, she had showed him the Letter: yes yes perfidious Amestris (said I in reading the Letter, and commenting almost upon every word) I have some desire to know what you do, and what are your diversions, I know indeed that you do not lie when you write unto me that you eat the tumult of the Court, and that there is but one person whom you can endure without regret, and that you also do what you can to have that conversation in a solitary and retired place: you tell me cruel Amestris, that I may imagine you shun the Gardens of the Palace for your walks; but perfidious as you are. I cannot imagine you go unto the Fountain in the green Plain unto any other end then to entertain Megabises: yet I do understand and saw with my own eyes that the only person in Ecbatan which can please you is the too happy Megabises: You say further, that you entertain yourself: Ah, I have seen too much, cruel Amestris, I wish the gods I had not seen it: But you have reason (said 〈◊〉) to say, that it would conduce unto my quiet to be kept ignorant of your Muse, and more reason to say that it would not be advantageous unto Amestris that I should guests at them: But how (unjust Lady) can you acknowledge them a wrong, and not repent of them; but perhaps you writ this Letter before that cruel discourse with Megabises: and indeed I was not mistaken in my conjecture, for looking upon the Date of the Letter, and remembering the day I saw them together, I found it was writ the day before it: This did put me into so hot a chafe, that I was resolved to use all possible means for the curing of my ill-grounded Passion: You may easily conceive that I took up this resolution with abundance of sorrow, and that I was to endure more than one Combat before I could overcome: I resolved to wait until Fortune gave me an opportunity to be revenged of Megabises, and not to travel the world over in quest of him, as I once intended: and I resolved to surmount those resentments which Love had infused into my soul: I would not answer Amestris nor seek for any Consolation in reproaching or taxing her for her crime; but I commanded him who used to receive the Letters, to send them back again without letting me see them or opening of them: If you ever were in love Sir, I need not tell you what I endured upon this occasion: You will easily know that it is a most difficult thing to break one's heart of a violent passion: That I have reason enough not to think upon Amestris; yet I thought perpetually upon her: and it is in vain to make any offers to scorn her, since I did ever esteem her more than all the world: I sought out company and discourse, thinking to divert myself that way; but it was so distasteful that solitude was less supportable: I called books to my relief, but in them I found nothing but good improfitable Counsels: I went to hunt▪ but I found that my weariness of body did nourish the distempers of my mind: In conclusion I resolved to let time cure that which nothing else would: But O Heavens, this remedy was long and tedious. All this while the innocent Amestris, she hearing no news of me, and seeing all her Letters sent back, gave over writing to me any more, and was in a very sad condition: Sometimes she imagined I was dead, but my Cousin understood from my Father that it was not so: They endeavoured, but in vain, to find out the cause of my silence; and the innocence of Amestris was such as she could not guests at it: She had some fears that Megabises would render but an ill account unto me, and had told him some tales of her: But upon second thoughts she could not believe him so base as to do such a vile act, nor me to be so weak as to believe him since I was his Enemy and Rival; so that there was no likelihood of any such thing; for he was too much a man of honour to use any such cheats▪ also he was going to live in a place where he could enjoy no fruits of his policy, since it was then known that his despair had carried him into those wars which were then up in Lydia: What did not then the amiable Amestris think? and of what crime did she not accuse the unfortunate Aglatidas? She thought him to be unconstant, that some new beauty and fresh passion had wrought a change in him, and upon that thought she would forget her sorrows, and repent she had ever loved him: She told a hundred Stories against me and my Love, and did all she could to take that heart from me which she had given me; Menasta who loved me very well, and who was returned out of the Country, was not able to excuse me, but she nourished all her angry thoughts against me: Indeed Sir, it might very well be said that we were both of us as unfortunate as we were innocent, In the mean time, he with whom Amestris lived, and who had a desire to pleasure Megabises, and who seeing that he was absent, also knowing that there were abundance which pretended unto Amestris, intended to take a Voyage in the Province Arisantines', where the greatest part of his Estate was, to take some order concerning urgent business there; for Sir, it was unknown at Court, whither I was retired, and this man did not know I was there. Amestris who could not endure the Court was much against her mind, and who desired to hide her sorrows, was very glad of the motion, and much the more (as I heard since) because she hoped coming into that Province where I was, she might find out the cause of my alteration, of which yet she was ignorant: In the mean time, as the absence of Megabises did facilitate the matter, my Father having obtained my favour with the King, commanded me to return unto Ecbatan, just at the same time when Amestris went out of it. I confess I received this news with sorrow, and should have been content to have continued longer in banishment: Yet notwithstanding I thought to tell things as they were, and seemed to believe that my heart was sufficiently cured from fear of any more wounds at the sight of Amestris: I then returned unto Ecbatan and met her not, because she took another way: I cannot relate Sir what troubles my mind was in when I came near Ecbatan, when I entered into it, and passed by the Palace gate of Artambaces. I feared to meet Amestris, and I looked about me exactly in passing through all the streets: I would have deceived myself, and not known the place where she was: But alas, that I should know myself so little, and that I should be so ignorant of what was to come: I was no sooner lighted from my Horse, but I went to my Father's chamber who received me with unexpressible joy: though he resented some sorrows to see my face so altered as it was: for indeed Sir I was so much changed, that I doubted whether I should have been taken for myself: My Father at last told me that he had been so solicitous about the business which concerned my life, that he never thought of pressing forward the business of my marriage, because that might have too much incensed Megabises both unto love and unto revenge: Sir, said I unto him, you have done very well, for at the present, Marriage is a thing which I more fear than desire: My Father desired me to explain that Enigma, but I excused it, and went unto my old Chamber in a mighty melancholy. The next morning my Father carried me unto the King, who received me very well, and who would have reconciled the Family of Megabises and ours, but as for Megabises he was not yet returned unto Ecbatan. In going from the Court, I was not long alone, for the report of my return was no sooner divulged in Ecbatan, but many of my friends came to visit me: And since my Love unto Amestris was known unto every one; After the first compliments were passed Arbatan the Brother of Harpagus (whom the King had heretofore employed to destroy young Cyrus) who was in the Catalogue of my best friends, asked me if I did not meet the fair Amestris upon the way as I returned to Court: I blushed at the name of Amestris, and asked my friend whether Amestris was in Ecbatan or no; to which he answered, that questionless she was not: But here Sir, admire what Love can do! I was no sooner assured of her absence but I resented both joy and sorrow together: and my mind was so divided upon this occasion, as I could determine upon nothing: yet notwithstanding I think that if the ground of my heart had been well examined, I should have more desired her return to Ecbatan then rejoiced at her absence: not that I was fully resolved never to make the least shadow of Love unto her, but, not to disguise the matter, I did yet love her more than I thought I should: and it is the natural quality of Love to desire the sight of the party loved: I reserved my mind so closely all the time of this converse, that I never was the first which spoke: I had a hundred desires, that every one should speak unto me of it, but I never durst speak of it myself: since I had no other confidents unto whom I durst open my Passions; but Artabes who now was dead, and Menasta who was gone with Amestris: I could not make misfortunes known unto them who already knew them not. Yet notwithstanding I altered my resolution, and Artaban did so diligently seek my friendship, and enquired concerning the causes of my profound melancholy which appeared in my face, and all my actions, that I being moved by his affection and my own sorrows, did acquaint him with the original of my Love, with its progress and end; for sometimes I was so bold as to speak as if I were no more in Love. It chanced one day when we were both alone together, and discoursing of some Passages at Court, I took the heart to tell Artaban that the time was when I loved Amestris; But Sir, in pronouncing these words I blushed: And Artaban, embracing me, said, Ah my dear Aglatidas, you do love still, your face does betray you, your heart has more sincerity than your tongue: I know not whether I love yet (said I unto him sighing) but I do know very well that I ought not to love her any longer, and more than that, I will not love her any longer. Love (answered he unto me) does not use to ask counsesl of reason, nor desire the consent of our wills to subject us; The same violence which made it master of our hearts whether we would or no, can maintain it by the same ways: Love (said Artaban) is not a lawful King but a Tyrant, which does not more kindly use them who do not defend themselves, than they who will dispute with it for their liberty, and who will have the Sovereignty where it would reign: Whatsoever it can do (said I) whether I love Amestris or whether I love her not, she shall never have any more shows either of Love or hatred from me: You will soon change this Opinion (Replied he unto me:) There needs not many words to prove that every minute of your Life speaks Love unto her; all your Discourses, and all your actions do manifest that you will be always faithful unto her: your Passion of her is very lively painted in your eyes: for (said he, not giving me time to answer him) From whence else can this strange alteration which appears in your face, in your spirits, and in all your humours proceed? from what causes can arise this profound melancholy, this Solitude which you prefer before all your friends; these continual sighs; that indifferency wherewith you look upon all Court-diversions, from whence can these proceed but from your being in Love? I do not nor will not love Amestris any more (replied I) and I hate all the rest of the world besides, except Artaban. And why do you hate them? (answered he) so many brave and gallant men, who do court you, and infinitely honour you? what will they do? what will so many fair and amiable Ladies as are in Ecban say? what has nature and they done that you should thus hate them? No no Aglatidas (continued he) deceive not yourself, you do love Amestris and you do love her so much as you hate all the world besides: If you did not love her, doubtless you would not hate others, but would love them as all other grave men use to love them: If I did love Amestris (said I to him) I should have wished her return, and have known of her departure, and have resented it: This resentment (Replied he) is no less a mark of your Love then your wishes; for Amestris cannot be terrible unto you: you cannot fear her return but you must love her: Moreover (said he) what other ground can you find for your Melancholy? You are beloved of all the world; you have a Father which consents unto any thing you desire; your quality is inferior unto few; you are abundantly rich; you enjoy youth and health; you are of a complete and handsome deportment (said he flatteringly) you have courage and reputation enough: What is it then Aglatidas that you want? Where is any ground for your Melancholy? The remembrance of my misfortunes (answered I) the remembrance of your misfortunes (replied he) should cause your joy when they are passed: You had better have said your misfortunes do continue: But I beseech you (said he) what will make you happy? They must be things impossible (said I to him) nothing else but that Amestris had never been perfidious: What then (Replied Artaban) is your good fortune so inseparably annexed unto Amescris? Can you never be happy without Amestris? You are very urgent (said I to him) and I will answer you no more: Tell me you cannot answer, but at the same time confess that you are the most in love of any man in the world: But my Dear Aglatidas, (said Arbatan) why do you conceal so great and dangerous a disease which can never be cured but by discovering it? I hide it (said he and changing colour) because I think it incurable; and if I did not infinitely love Arbatan, I should not tell him as I do, that in despite of my reason and against my will, Amestris the perfidious Amestris does take up all my thoughts, and possesses my heart whether I will or no: As I left speaking, Artaban embracing me, began; Now (said he to me) you have told me your disease, I will endeavour to cure it: I believe you wish it (said I to him) but it is not so easy to do as to say it; for know Artaban, that though Amestris should repent her of her infidelity, and come to me with tears in her eyes, I could not yet be perfectly satisfied: the remembrance of what is passed would keep me in continual inquietude for the time to come; and I should possess a treasure which I should be in perpetual fears to lose: As often as she gave me any obliging language, I should imagine that the same expressions were used in favour of my Rival: And I could not respect the heart of Amestris otherwise then as a profaned Altar: What if Amestris (said then Artaban) should with all her charms and beauty ask pardon for her weakness and change, would you refuse her? Ah cruel friend (said I to him) what delight can you take in persecuting me in lieu of preserving me? and telling me of such impossibilities? But if it should so happen (said he to me) how would you use her? In spite of all my inquisitive jealousies which fills my heart, I think I should throw myself at her feet, and hearken unto her repentance, to assure her of my eternal love, and to require more exact fidelity from her, than hitherto she has observed. But alas, how far am I from that condition? But will you follow my counsel (said Artaban to me?) I will do any thing (said I to him) that would procure me some consolation. If so (said he) neglect not what I shall tell you, and know, that considering the state of your soul, I have found an infallible remedy, either to make Amestris give you full satisfaction, or else to rid you of your passions to her. If I should hearken unto Reason (said I unto him) I should rather choose the second than the first; but if I harken unto my own heart, I should prefer the first before the second. Know then (said Artaban unto me) since Love is so noble a Passion, as nothing can recompense it but itself; and is so powerful, that nothing can overcome it but its own forces: you must love, to make Love cease; and the hatred which commonly succeeds that Love, is but Love disguised under an appearance of anger; which is more dangerous than if it appeared in its natural colours. In short, Aglatidas (said he to me) you must cure one Passion with another; and to make you leave loving Amestris, you must love another Beauty. Alas (replied I then) how easy a matter it is for Artaban to give such counsel, and how hard it is for Aglatidas to follow it? But (answered he me) the Remedy which I will tell you shall be easy, and not so impossible as you think it: Truly, said he, as long as you remain in this kind of solitude wherein you now live, it will not be an easy matter for you to engage yourself in any new love: But you ought to look upon those which may entangle you; you must expose yourself unto the waves, and throw yourself into the Sea, to avoid shipwreck: The disease is so dangerous, and the physic so extraordinary, that you must almost die in hopes to live the longer. But do you believe (said I to him) that it is possible that I should not only love any other Beauty, but that I can endure it? You may questionless if you will (answered he;) but at the first you must only feign a love of some other, and perhaps it will at length become a real Love. If it do come to pass, that you do love another, than you'll jeer at the inconstancy of Amestris; and if it do not come to that pass, yet at the least, it will be a handsome revenge for the injuries you have received. Perhaps, said he, this fiction may bring your Mistress unto some reasonable terms; and her jealousy may give you that your love could not bring about. This Remedy, said I to him, is very dangerous, very uncertain, and very difficult; for you say, that perhaps I shall love, and perhaps I shall not love another; perhaps I may revenge myself; perhaps Amestris will see her error. In a word, all is grounded upon perhaps'es; that is to say, upon little or nothing; and I see so much uncertainty in this remedy, that I cannot think it good. Will you have another, said he to me? I have one, said I to him, which is infallible, and that is death, which will doubtless rid me from all my sorrows. That is the last Remedy which you must use (answered Artaban) and it must never be made use of, but when all others have failed. In conclusion, Sir, what Arguments soever he could use, I could not consent unto him that day: But a while after, hearing that Amestris was to return, he did so importune me to follow his counsel, as I resolved to follow this counsel, though it went much against the strain of my mind. There was then in the Court a Lady called Anatisa, one indeed of great merit and beauty, yet one whose beauty had never made many conquests, and was doubtless far less fair than Amestris; yet fair enough: Chance would have it so, that the same day whereon I had consented to try the remedy which Artaban had prescribed, I found her in the walks of the Garden in the Palace, where I had not of a long time been, because I had shunned company as much as possible: And as I neither had nor could have any particular inclination unto any, nor had any liberty to choose in a time when none but Amestris could please me. Chance, I say, making me meet Anatisa sooner than another, I did not refuse discourse with her, as I was used to do with all other Ladies, since my return to Ecbatan; I mean as much as civility would permit me: I spoke then unto that Lady divers times that day; and although our discourse was upon nothing but upon very indifferent things, she thought herself much obliged to me, because I had done more unto her then unto any other Lady since my return to Court. And certainly it was advantageous to me, that the solitude wherein I had lived, did help me to persuade the world unto that which I would have it believe; else doubtless it had not been so easy for me to deceive it, as it deceived itself, and likewise if Anatisa had not helped me to delude it: For Sir, I did not think that the complacency which this fair Lady rendered me, was any effect of my merit; but on the contrary, I plainly saw it had a reflection from Amestris, it being most certain that Anatisa would not have treated me so favourably as she did, but that she conceived it did redound much unto her honour, that the man who had formerly loved the fairest Beauty of the World, should quit those fetters to be captivated in hers. This petty jealousy of Beauty, caused Anatisa then to treat me with all possible civility; and I finding so much facility to execute what Artaban advised me unto, did transact as he would have me: Not Sir, that I could ever resolve to tell Anatisa that I loved her, as well because in very truth I had no such passion in me, as because I thought it did too much trespass upon the Laws of Generosity; yet my manner of living with her did tell the Court as much, and likewise told the thoughts of Anatisa the same, for I did visit her very oft, I almost spoke unto none but her, I appeared very melancholy and disordered; so that all the world took these things to be effects of a fresh passion. Anatisa, on the other side, did see that I was chained unto her society, and that I did upon all occasions which were offered, commend her; that I refused the company of all other women but she; and that in our Discourses I did often appear as if I were a little frantic, not knowing what I would say. But alas, all these which she took to be effects of my love to her, were only effects of that which I bore unto Amestris, how perfidious soever she seemed to be unto me. Really, I did sometimes repent the following of Artaban's counsel, and all others also, when I began firmly to resolve of loving Anatisa, and to banish Amestris from my heart and memory. Change, change, (said I to myself) this feigned Passion unto a real one, and be no longer faithful unto one that hath betrayed me; do not betray one that has nothing in her but sincerity for me. 'Tis true, Anatisa is not so fair as Amestris, yet perhaps she will love me more faithfully: Tell her then that thou lovest her (said I to myself) although thou yet dost not; so that being obliged by Generosity not to lie, thou mayst no longer remain in any fears of returning unto inconstant Amestris, or to ever see her, or speak unto her, when she returns, as they say she will. This thought, Sir; did so fortify itself in my mind, that I went three or four days together unto Anatisa, with intentions to tell her I loved her, but some intervenient passage or other hindered me from executing them; but when I found the opportunity, notwithstanding all my determinate resolutions, I was dumb when I was about to speak unto her; I diverted the discourse, my tongue would not obey, my heart revolted against my will, my will itself altered and was unsettled; and indeed, not desiring that which I desired but one moment before, I dejected my eyes as being equally ashamed of what I did, and what I would have done. But, Oh Heavens, that which should have destroyed me in the opinion of Anatisa, did confirm me; for she supposing that the love and reverence which I bore unto her, had caused all these disorders which she discovered in my mind, she did treat me more kindly, and would not see it. All the Court Sir, believed I was in love with Anatisa; one of my Cousins did write as much unto Menasta, who, as I have told you, was with Amestris; but this Lady who writ, did mention it very obscurely, knowing that such news would be resented with sorrow, and therefore she would not plainly tell it, until she came to Ecbatan to see it. Mean time, I heard of two things together which much grieved me; the one was, That Amestris would presently come back; and the other, That Megabises would very shortly be in Town; This business which fell out only by accident, did seem unto me a thing agreed upon; and I did absolutely conclude, that the voyage of Amestris was caused by the absence of Megabises, though I could not guests at the reason. But as jealousy always inclines more unto that which will augment itself, then that which would lessen it, I did not busy myself to reason the matter, from whence I might perhaps draw some conjectures unto my advantage, but I sought out those conjectures which would more torment me. They return, said I, to triumph over my miseries before my eyes; and they cannot esteem themselves happy, unless I be the witness of their felicities. However, perfidious Amestris, you shall not have so much satisfaction, as to think that I am unhappy; I will carry the matter so with Anatisa, as you shall not so much as suspect that I love you. But as for you Megabises, never hope to enjoy your conquest quietly, for though I will pretend no more unto her, yet I will take away the enjoyment from thee, in taking away thy life, or at least dispute it unto the last minute of my life. These tumultuous thoughts being a little appeased, I had some comfort to think, that Amestris should believe I was in love with Anatisa; and I was for a certain time so closely with her, as I myself did wonder at it. In the mean while Amestris came to Town, and Menasta was much confirmed in her belief of my new passion; yet notwithstanding, she would speak with me before she would absolutely condemn me; and she quickly found the opportunity; for indeed, as she was my Cousin, I was in civility obliged to give her a visit, which with much ado I resolved upon; yet I would not go alone: but do what I could, she spoke unto me particularly of it. Is it possible (said she to me) that what I hear can be true? Can any man who has been so happy, as not to be hated by Amestris, think upon loving Anatisa? Amestris (said I unto her) has not thought Aglatidas worthy of her; and I do not know Menasta, whether she or I has made the worse choice: She perhaps did that out of weakness or an humour, which I have done out of Reason, and to be revenged on her. But Menasta, let us talk no more on it; she was always your friend, and I myself believed she concealed it from you, to betray me. It must needs be (answered she) that she has kept it secret, if it be true that she betrayed you, for I never knew of it; but I confess, I have much ado to be persuaded of the truth. I have had more to do (replied I;) and if I myself had not been a witness of her infidelity, if I had not with my own eyes seen her perfidious Treason, I should never have believed it; no, though you yourself should have assured me of it: But as I would not have believed you, so you yourself would have spoke against her; nor do I think that you will justify her now. No, no, Menasta, speak no more on it, Amestris has betrayed me, and I have left her; she has not thought me worthy of her affection, and I have not thought her worthy of mine; though, setting her infidelity aside, she is the admiration of all the Earth; and since she either hates or scorns me, I am dispensed from that fidelity which I promised unto her. I confess, said Menasta, if she be culpable you are not to be much blamed: But however, you are to blame; for did you ever complain unto Amestris? have you ever accused her? did you ever give her time to justify herself, or to repent of it? Complaints, said I, are requisite, when the Crime of the party beloved is in any doubt, or when it is so small, as a Confession may wipe it off: But when the offence is of such a nature as that is which I have received, complaints do but procure new matter to be again deceived: Spare therefore your pains unto Amestris (said I) and move her not to confess a thing which she cannot confess without confusion, as anticipated as she is in the Love which she possesseth. Menasta was so surprised to hear me speak so, as she could not answer; for since Amestris never told her of any converse which she had with Megabises, she could not imagine any other colour of complaint which I could have: she thought, that to excuse my inconstancy, I had supposed a Crime whereof she was innocent, as appeared by her eyes, and that I was much more culpable than she. That which confirmed her in her opinion, was the disorder which she had observed in my mind; not doubting, but that the disorder was grounded upon my being ashamed of my weakness, and upon this change which I had made; yet notwithstanding, being desirous to augment it, I do assure you (said she) that during all this voyage which Amestris hath made, there was not one Lover which could commend her for her indulgency towards him, nor brag of any favour. I do not doubt it (answered I) for she is more faithful unto him whom she has preferred before me. But who is that so happy Lover of Amestris (replied she in anger) that Menasta should not know him? Since you would have a secret of it (said I unto her) I will have so much respect unto her, as not to reveal what I know, and help her to hide that which cannot but be too much published, and of which within this little time you will make no doubt of. As we were upon these terms, there came in so much company, that our discourse could not continue longer, and I went from Menasta in a doubled perplexity: For said I, if Amestris were within the compass of repentance, her soul would have confessed some part of her weakness, or at least would have found out some handsome pretence and excuse for it: But in denying all, it renders her culpable of all; and since so, I have nothing to do but to revenge myself: Revenge then, said I, the real infidelity of Amestris, by a feigned infidelity. I will render my diligence unto Anatisa, though I cannot render her my heart; I will punish her by this bad choice, and neglect nothing that may satisfy my resentment, though I cannot satisfy my love. Mean while Menasta, who was really incensed against me, and thinking none would tell Amestris of my new Passion, thought fit to tell her of it, and went unto her that same evening. She was not the first who brought her the news; for amongst so many as did visit her, there was some who out of malice or simplicity had told her of that thing, wherein all the world knew she had so much interest. Menasta found her very sad; for Sir, to make you understand my misfortune the better, I am constrained to acknowledge, that Amestris did love me, and loved me with such tender affection, as I cannot yet think upon it, without extreme joy, and extreme sorrow, and strange confusion both together. She no sooner saw Menasta, but she made it evident by her melancholy, that she was acquainted with my new Passion, yet at the first she spoke only of indifferent things. Menasta for her part, not knowing well where or how to begin so vexatious a discourse, nor knew well what she should say, did answer her with half broken off words. But in the end, the adorable Amestris not being able to hide her resentments any longer, asked her whether she had seen me? and whether my new love was so strong as to make me forget my Civilities unto her? I have seen him (answered she) but I have seen him so deprived of reason, that I would no longer acknowledge him for my kinsman, nor believe that it was Aglatidas, whom I formerly knew, and so much esteemed. Indeed (said she to her) he courts Anatisa, he follows her every where, and I think he really loves her. But although this Crime be too great, yet it is not that which animates me most against him, for those who are naturally weak and inconstant, do deserve rather compassion than reproaches, since they do no more than what they cannot help: But Aglatidas would excuse his fault by laying it upon you; this is that which I cannot endure, and this is that which I thought fit to tell you, to the end that you may punish his folly and ingratitude by your hatred and scorn. What (said Amestris) doth Aglatidas accuse me of any thing? Yes, replied Menasta, he says that you have betrayed him; he says he saw it with his own eyes, that he cannot doubt of it; and that your new choice is more unreasonable than his: Indeed (said she) I can say no more, but that he is full of folly and malice both. Amestris was so surprised at the story, that her Soul, as great as it was, could not choose but tremble; she changed colour, tears stood in her eyes, and her wisdom had much ado to restrain them. If she called to mind the love which I professed unto her, and the reverence wherewith I served her, she considered my change as an unrepairable loss: If she remembered the goodness which she used to me, she could not enough condemn my ingratitude: If she considered the Fidelity which she constantly preserved for me, she abhorred my perfidy: And if she observed the difference which was between Anatisa and herself, she could not but be astonished at my weakness and blindness. But upon the whole matter she must needs conclude me capable of both, and she could not possibly doubt of it. Menasta did assure me afterwards, that the wrong which I did unto her Beauty, in preferring one who was in all things so much inferior to her, did not so sensibly move her, as the wrong which I did unto her Virtue, in accusing her of inconstancy. What, said she, does Aglatidas take from me that heart which he had given me? Will he neither love me, nor see me? And has he forgot all his Obligations which were upon him for suffering him to manifest his Passions? But for all this, I will punish myself without anger, and perhaps I will cheer up myself by reason. But Menasta, that he should excuse his own imbecilities by accusing me, this is a thing which is above my Patience; and makes evident unto me, that Love is a most dangerous Passion: For truly, did he ever meet with any more excusable than I, or more innocent? I loved Aglatidas it is true, but I loved him not only because he loved me, but because my Parents did believe him to be a man of wisdom and judgement, and that he had all the qualities requisite to be in a complete man. Moreover, might I not well believe, that Fortune having made me rich enough, his own interest might move him unto that which my mean Beauty could not? And whether it was Love or Ambition which he was sensible of, I might well hope he would be faithful. Yet it seems I was deceived in my conjectures, and I was ignorant that he could not love any thing. But alas, said she, is it not in our power, when Innocence and Reason has planted Love in my heart, to find a means to root it out? Yet it must be, added she, and I am so fully resolved, that I cannot hope to bring it to pass. In short, Sir, the adorable Amestris being not well at peace in herself, could not resolve what to do; and she designed the next day to take some solitary walk with her dear Confident, and endeavour to settle her resolutions upon the business, and to shun the conversation of all indifferent people, who as the state stood with her soul, did but importunately trouble her. They went the next day unto the Garden, whither very few used to resort, and where Artaban by accident did meet them; he no sooner saw them, but he had a great curiosity to understand their discourse; to that end, he hid himself behind a thick hedge, and following them by the eye, he saw them sit down in a green Arbour. Thither he went, shading himself by the boughs of a great tree which hung down, and there couched himself behind a little bush of Myrrh, which was close by the Arbour; he was no sooner settled, but he understood that Menasta answered unto something which Amestris had said, and which he could not understand: No, no, said she to her, you must not take revenge upon yourself, it is fit that Aglatidas alone should bear the burden of his Crime. Do not confound Innocency and culpable together: Hate Aglatidas if you can, and do not punish Amestris who is in no fault. Amestris (replied this lovely Lady) not being able to hate where she loves, what would you have her do? and why should she not think herself as culpable, for loving where she should hate, as Aglatidas is for hating where he ought eternally to love? After this, these two Ladies began to discourse upon that which might have given me the boldness to accuse Amestris; for (said Menasta) what likelihood is there that without any pretence or colour, he should be so inconsiderate? Amestris reflecting upon what Menasta said, began to tell her that which she knew not before, to wit, the converse which she had with Megabises; but (added she) if Aglatidas had been present at it, he would rather have thanked me then complained: but he was far off, and Megabises for his part, being ever since in Lydia, could not inform him any thing: No No, said Menasta, that cannot be the cause, for he did not so much as name Megabises unto me, and without all question if it had been he, Aglatidas would have named him to me, and spoke of him: so that it must be concluded, that he being ashamed of his weakness, was forced to fly unto this imposture, thereby to excuse himself when he spoke unto me: Truly those who commit crimes, said she, do severely punish themselves in committing them; and had you seen how restless and unquiet Aglatidas was when he spoke unto me, you would have consented unto it: That which does most wonder me, said Amestris unto her, is, that when we were in the Province of Arisantines, we did understand that Aglatidas seemed always to be melancholy: If his change had chanced since his return to Ecbatan, than I must needs conclude, that out of a capricious humour, or else out of reason, he has preferred the beauty of Anatisa before that of Amestris; But I conceive Menasta, that his change took beginning during his exile, in a time when he received most testimonies of affection from me, for I writ unto him, and that in a most obliging manner: But after all this (said Menasta) what do you intent to do? I intent (said he) to punish myself for my misfortune, To lament it eternally, To repent me of my weakness, and strive to forget Aglatidas, though perhaps it is not in my power; and to lead a close and more unhappy life then ever any did. But (Replied Menasta) I had rather you would take into your consideration one of these two important courses: The first is, that if you cannot persuade yourself to hate Aglatidas, then to try all possible means that may bring him unto reason: The second is, that if you can bring yourself to hate him, then to punish him severely for his crime: Alas, Alas, Replied Amestris, how difficult a thing is to hate where one hath resolved to love all their life long, and how hard it is to punish where one loves: I have one infallible way (said Menasta) but by the way you may admire Sir the odd destiny of things in this world; for Menasta did propound the very same way unto Amestris, which Artaban had propounded unto me: to wit, that she should feign to entertain some one of her pretenders very kindly: for said this Lady unto her, I have ever known Aglatidas to be extreme sensible of honour, so that when he plainly sees that his mutability has put Amestris into a capacity of preferring another before him, than one of these two things will come to pass, that is, he will either forsake Anatisa, and return unto Amestris, or else at the least he will be sufficiently tormented in his heart; Moreover, who knows but that by permitting yourself to be loved, you may come to cease loving him? Love for aught I understand (said he) is never cured by contrary remedies, nor by any violent applications; Time and reason by more insensible ways brings many things to pass, therefore if you will believe me follow my advice; It conduceth much unto your honour (added she) that the world shall not suspect you ever loved Aglatidas; and to prevent it you must do as I advise: This last consideration was very forcible upon the soul of Amestris; who after much other discourse, resolved to take my counsel. In the mean time Artaban who was ravished to hear the discourse of these two Ladies, did gently steal away without being perceived; going in haste unto all places where he thought to find me, but as my ill fortune was he could not find me: After he had in vain sought me at the Court, in the Palace-Gardens, and at Anatisa's Lodging, he resolved to stay till night when I should return, not imagining that the ignorance of what he knew could be of that importance as to be so prejudicial unto me: But O Heavens, how fatal it was unto me? and how many sighs did that journey which I then took cost me? I have already told you Sir, that the Garden where Amestris was is a very solitary place, where very few people use to walk: But all ill Fortunes conspired together to afflict me, and to make me the most unhappy man upon earth. Anatisa, prompted by my evil destinies, designing to walk with some of her friends, made choice of that place because she had never seen it; and I did particularly choose it that I might there enjoy my sad thoughts, because I did verily think not to meet Amestris there, nor Anatisa, nor any thing that might interrupt my musing contemplations: But Sir I was wonderfully surprised, when in entering into the Garden, I saw Amestris afar off walking with her dear Menasta, and at the same time I saw Anatisa at the the foot of an Arbour, composing some flowers which she had gathered: This unexpected sight did much trouble me, and so surprised me that I stopped upon a sudden: I knew not whether I should apply myself unto her whom I loved and had betrayed me; or to her who loved me and whom I betrayed: I stood in such an anxiety as I could not resolve nor can express: I was in a mind to go unto Amestris, and my jealousies did almost submit unto my Love; I thought to go and throw myself at her feet without regarding Anatisa; But her crime coming fresh into my memory, I altered that determination, and began to incline towards Anatisa; yet I made my approach so gentle, and was so unwilling to turn from Amestris, that I was in a mind to go unto neither, but to sink down under the load of my sorrows; yet my disdain driving me out of an extreme anxiety into an invincible obstinacy: I regarded not Amestris, but went unto Anatisa, unto whom I spoke as I was accustomed: But yet I acted it with such distraction of spirits, as that if this Lady had not been distracted herself with observing the actions of Amestris, she might easily have perceived the cause of my inquietude; But she was wrapped into such an ecstasy of joy to see herself preferred before the Fairest Lady in the world, as she neither minded the alteration in my countenance, nor the obscurity of my words. Amestris (as since I heard) now seeing that herself which before she had heard only by reports, was extraordinarily surprised: Until now, this adorable Lady resented only sorrow for my change, but now, seeing with her own eyes, Aglatidas at the feet of Anatisa, her anger began to rouse up her spirits: and a secret resentment of honour did infuse into her so great a desire to be revenged for the scorn which I offered unto her, as she could not forbear to testify as much unto Menasta. Here Sir may be admired the prodigious accident which chance only brought about in this business: I think, I told you how Megabises was to return within a few days; and after he had been in the wars of Lydia, he resolved to returned unto Ecbatan, and never thought to call me unto any account, neither for the death of his Brother whereof he knew I was culpable, nor for any other of our ancient differences. The King did send unto him to forbid him absolutely, after the reconcilement which was made between our Families, and had commanded me to quarrel no more, but to shun meeting as much as possible, it being but just to have respect unto a man whose Brother I had killed: Megabises came into the Town in the night that he might be more particularly informed in the state of things before he received any visits; and resolved to pass away the rest of the day in the Garden where I was, knowing it the least frequented, and where also was Amestris and Anatisa; Megabises then who knew him unto whom the Garden belonged, entered into it as soon as he lighted from horse, and at the very same instant when Amestris being transported with anger to see me with Anatisa, did say unto Menasta that she had good reason to counsel her to punish me: Megabises entering in confidently, was infinitely surprised to see both his Mistress and his Rival in that place: But he was more amazed to see me not with Amestris; yet Sir, since Megabises had not seen her since the time he promised to see her or speak to her no more, I would make it known unto her by his respect that he had not forgotten to keep his word; so that after he had made her a most low reverence, he retired and would have gone out of the Garden; But Amestris whose spirit was highly incensed, and thinking it a fit occasion to be revenged, called him unto her, and received him with much civility: This afforded him as much joy as me sorrow: For Sir, I saw Megabises enter; I observed how he would have gone away, and she to stay him; I supposed that he offered to go away because he saw me there: And I doubted not but that Amestris knowing of his coming, came thither purposely to meet him: I leave you Sir to guess at the trouble of my soul, and the agitation of my mind: For my part I never think upon the condition wherein we were, but I wonder at the capricious humour of Fate: For Anatisa was wrapped up into the height of joy to see herself preferred before Amestris by Aglatidas, who neither preferred her nor loved her: Megabises for his part he was infinitely glad to be called back by her who had for ever banished him, though she which called him back did it not out of any affection she bore unto him: only Amestris and myself, who if we had rightly understood one another, had been the happiest of all, we were the most perplexed souls upon earth: Mean time, though Megabises thought himself very happy in being with Amestris, yet the remembrance of his brother's death, and the sight of him who killed him, did so reflect upon his heart as he had no good mind to be where I was: Madam (said he unto Amestris) I should make a doubt whether the command which I received from the King could work so prevalently upon my spirit as to hinder me from my just resentments against a man whom I see before me, if the respect which I owe unto you did not restrain me; Therefore Madam, fear lest this respect should not be strong enough to resist the apprehensions of blood and nature, I most humbly beseech you to pardon my incivility, and give me leave to leave you: Upon those words he made a very low rerence unto Amestris, and without staying for any answer he went out of the Garden; She who only stayed him to anger me was not forward to retain him: As for me Sir who never understood what they said, I no sooner saw him gone, but I was in as great a chafe as I was to see him enter, imagining that he only went out to disguise the appointment which Amestris had given him. Not being to stay where I was, and thinking I should better hide my perplexity in walking then staying there, I proposed a departure unto Anatisa, who consented unto it: But she, more out of vanity than complacency, would needs, do what I could, go unto Amestris, thinking it would be a Triumph unto her to carry her slave whether she pleased: Then we went to meet Amestris and Menasta, and as we came near one another, Anatisa, not telling me her design, began to speak unto Amestris, whereat I was so angry that I was in a mind to leave her, and be gone from that place where the object of my love and the object of my hatred were together: I neither durst nor would look upon Amestris, I wished with all my heart that Megabises were there that I might fight with him: Sometimes I thought Amestris less fair, and Anatisa more: But O Heavens, that sometimes was quickly over, and I thought Anatisa ugly, and Amestris Angelic fair: yet Anatisa who as I told you, would needs triumph, and better assure herself of her Conquest, spoke very spitefully unto Amestris; and in accosting her, I am very happy (said she unto her) to meet such good company in a place which is used to be very solitary, and I have reason to think myself so, since expecting only the pleasure of the walk, I have met also with the delight of company; My company (answered Amestris very coldly) is so far from pleasant, that you have rather cause to complain, if you had not some other to divert you. If you should put to Judges (replied Anatisa maliciously) I am sure Megabises who I saw with you would not be of your mind; and as for Aglatidas, he is no competent Judge, for he would give sentence in my behalf: As for my part (said I in a great confusion) I do not doubt but Megabises finds Amestris to be incomparable in all things; and I confess (said I changing colour) that he has good cause to publish, that the conversation of Amestris is the most complacential of any in the world when she pleaseth: Ah Madam (replied Anatisa, who was ravished with joy to see such signs of anger in the face of Amestris) be not now of that humour, and be pleased to suffer all those commendations which I will give you: I deserve so little (answered she) that I will not advise you to employ your time to so little purpose. There is a kind of humility (replied Anatisa) which honour will not admit of: Yes (replied Amestris) and there is also a kind of false humour, which covers oftentimes abundance of baseness: I suppose (answered Anatisa) that neither you nor I are guilty of either: I know nothing (replied Amestris) for none do know themselves very well: It is much more hard (said I unto her) to know the thoughts of another, especially of those (replied she) who do counterfeit to be generous and sincere, but indeed are not so; I am confident (said the malicious Anatisa) that Megabises cannot disguise his thoughts; Those who like him (answered Amestris thinking to spite me) do affect true honour, do never use to do so: there is none but base men use to dissemble their thoughts. I confess unto you Sir, that I was infinitely perplexed to hear Amestris thus express herself, that I could not possibly stay any longer in that place: As I came not into Garden with Anatisa, I thought myself not engaged to stay with her: Furthermore I was not in a condition to observe an exact correspondency in my actions. I had seen Megabises pleased so well, I observed Anatisa so well content, I saw Amestris so fierce, contrary to her custom; and I found myself so sad, so angry, and so desperate, that at last being stirred by my Love, my hate, and my Jealousy: I left this both dear and intolerable company: I went then out of the Garden with an ill intent, resolving to be revenged upon Megabises, for all the wrongs that Amestris had done me: And to that end in lieu of entering into the Town, I went to conceal myself in the house of one of my acquaintance, with intention to send the next day unto Megablses, to meet me with his Sword. I would not advertise Artaban of my design, because I knew he would contradict it; but alas, I did not know that I should have been the happiest man upon earth, if I had seen him, whereas now I am the most unfortunate. In the mean while, Amestris who had not treated Megabises so well, but only to anger me, had no sooner lost the sight of me, but not being able to endure the company of her Rival, she thought out a pretence to leave her, and went to complain of her misfortune in secret unto her dear Menasta. As for Megabises it may be said, that his good fortune was but a flash and away; which ending as soon as it begun made it more dusky and intolerable then before. And as for Anatisa, though her joys to be preferred before Amestris did last a little longer, yet it was but to torment her more sensibly afterwards. For my part Sir, I never thought myself so unhappy as now I found myself: At the first time when I saw Amestris favourable unto Megabises, I had this advantage as that she took a little pains to delude me; she knew not that I saw her; and at that time when she spoke unto him so mildly, she did not write roughly unto me: I might then think that her heart was divided, and that he did not so absolutely possess it, but there might be a corner of it for me: Moreover, he then saw her to bid her adieu: but now, doubtless he came not with any intention to leave her, and Amestris was certain in the Garden staying for him: She now saw me before he came in, and cared not whether or no I was a witness, since she did not go away before he came: As for Megabises he would be something more discreet, he seemed to have no desire to stay when he had discovered me; but she did most cruelly call him back to spite me; she looked upon me with anger, but upon him with sweetness, and commended him before my face: She (I say) who heretofore made profession of such austere virtue, she who denied me her affection so obstinately, she who was so severe and rigorous unto me: How comes it to pass Amestris (said I) that you have thus changed your humour? But however, I must be so bold as to trouble your felicity as well as you have done mine, and though my respects be such as I will not revenge myself directly upon you, yet you shall give me leave to be revenged upon Megabises: See Sir, how I did draw poison out of the most innocent things; and how I interpreted all the actions of Amestris; who for her part did as much upon mine, and who determined to be revenged upon me in a most cruel manner: But Sir, I must tell you beforehand, that he with whom Amestris lived, being bribed unto it by Otanus, did no longer take the part of Megabises for her, and did continually persecute her, to the end that he might bring her unto that pass as to prefer Riches, before all other things in the world, and never to consider the good or the bad qualities of him whom she was to marry: Moreover, Artaban not finding me went to her, but her mind was not for any conversation, therefore she left me alone with Menasta in her chamber, and shut herself in her closet. Then Sir, the discourse between these two was only upon me: Menasta, who knew that Artaban was my Confident, did so press him, as he acknowledged that it was a terrible jealousy which had taken me off from the service of Amestris: but do what she could, she could screw no more out of him; for since he was to meet with me at night, therefore he would not discover any more unto her, lest I should perhaps not allow of it. His visit continued not long with Menasta, because he did sit upon thorns until he had discourse with me: He was no sooner gone but she went unto Amestris in her closet, who was retired thither under pretence of writing some Letters of importance: She told her how after much other discourse Artaban had confessed that it was a horrid jealousy which caused my change. How (answered Amestris) Aglatidas extremely jealous? Good Gods, how is it possible he can be so? What cause have I given him? Which of his Rivals is it that I have favoured so much as to give him any colour or cause of change? Has any observed any such complacence in me? Have I sought out any occasions to see and be seen? Have I held any private discourse with any one? Have I been a frequenter of any suspected walks? Have I received any secret letters or writ any? Is there any one that can vaunt of any favour received from Amestris, except the perfidious Aglatidas? Indeed Menasta what have I done? what have I said? or what have I so much as thought, which can excuse his inconstancy? for my part (said she) I never knew the like jealousy to this; But I pray tell me; suppose I could learn the ground and commencement of it, what can I do to help it? I must certainly never look upon any, but mew upon myself eternally; How is it possible, in a great Court, in a populous Town, where I am seen by all the world, and where I see with equal indifferency all those who come to me, that I should ever find out who it is which causeth his inquietude? For perhaps it is Andramias, perhaps Araspes, perhaps Megabises, and perhaps the King: How should I then help it Menasta? How should I cure him if I would? It must needs be confessed (answered my cousin) that Aglatidas has carried it very ill: Say (said Amestris) that he has lost his reason, in losing that esteem which he ought unto me; for considering how I have carried myself unto him, he ought never to have made an ill interpretation of my actions, or suspected them, nor believed any thing against me, though his own eyes had persuaded him unto it. Must inconstancy be a consequent of jealousy? For my part, I think that jealousy makes men unhappy, but I do not believe that it ought to make them perfidious: That Aglatidas, because he thinks no sincerity in my words, will not see me, nor love me any more, but hate me, I do not blame him: I look upon his hatred as a consequent of his violent love unto me; but that Aglatidas as soon as he thinks that I do not esteem him, should at the very same instant have a soul sensible of a fresh new passion; this Menasta is a thing which cannot be. If he had loved me very well, what cause of complaint soever I had given him, it was impossible but he should love me yet, or at least not hate me; and it is more impossible (if I may say it) that he can so soon love Anatisa. Ha, said she, whosoever should have told me heretofore, that I should see Aglatidas come into a place where I was, and leave me to go unto Anatisa, I should not have believed it: Yet it was injustice (not to speak of love) after he had seen me this last time, entertaining thoughts very advantageous for him, to accost me in so offensive a manner; Could he not have restrained Anatisa from coming to me? Might he not have shunned the meeting? No, no, said she unto Menasta, he would not, but he on the contrary had a desire to put my patience unto the most vigorous Test: I know, added she, that at the last he quitted the company, and went alone out of the Garden; but it was confusion and anger, not repentance which drove him away; he was ashamed of his crime, but he had not so much virtue as to disengage himself: So that after all this, though he should have repent, yet I should not have been satisfied. But (said Menasta unto her interrupting her) what do you resolve upon? I will (answered she with a quite altered complexion) never think upon Aglatidas any more, and so carry the matter, that he shall whether he will or no think eternally upon Amestris: I will make him acknowledge his own crime by the thought of my innocency, and that he shall know my innocency by my misfortune: I must make him see that I never loved any but him, and that I have been ever faithful unto him: But in letting him see it, it shall be done after such a fashion, that he shall get nothing by it. If he do not repent of his fault, said she, I shall punish him for loving, and if he do repent, than I shall punish him for betraying me, and punish him according to his desert. I do confess (said Menasta to her) I cannot easily devise what kind of revenge it is that you have contrived: It is so strange a one (answered Amestris) that I dare hardly tell it, lest you should divert me from it either by your reasons, or your prayers. But how can you make him certainly see that you have continued faithful, since you do not know what it is which hath made him jealous? 'Tis true indeed, replied Amestris, I do not know the cause of his jealousy, but I do know him who is not the cause of his jealousy; and that shall serve me, both for my Justification, for my Revenge, and for my Punishment all in one: Menasta hearing her speak so, and finding little sense in her obscure words, was very urgent with her, to explain herself, and did oftentimes assure her that she would not contradict her intentions, until at length she told her: You are not ignorant (said she to her) neither you Menasta, nor the inconstant Aglatidas, what an extreme aversion I have ever had against Otanus, notwithstanding all his wealth and quality; for I have told you both a hundred and a hundred times, that for all his Riches and condition he is the man whom of all the world I do most scorn and hate: You know also, said she, that he has loved me ever since the first day I came to Ecbatan; and that I have hated him ever since the first minute I saw him: Know then Menasta, that before I will in any part reclaim the perfidious Aglatidas, I will obey my kinsman who is my Guardian, that is, I will marry Otanus, who is the ill-favouredest man alive, and thereby make Aglatidas see whether I ever loved any of his Rivals: What, said Menasta, will you marry Otanus? Yes, answered Amestris, I will marry him, and I cannot make choice of a greater punishment wherewith to afflict myself for loving Aglatidas, and also to chastise Aglatidas for betraying me: This is the way Menasta, said she, whereby I will both justify and revenge myself, although I do not know him whom Aglatidas thinks to be my partner in my crime: By this course I shall be sure to cure Aglatidas of his jealousy: for indeed Otanus has so many defects that I am sure I cannot deceive myself, it being absolutely impossible that Aglatidas should have been jealous of him. Ah Amestris, said Menasta then, Do not confound innocency and crime together; punish Aglatidas alone, but do not punish Amestris; rather marry Megabises, and believe that you will be sufficiently revenged of my perfidious kinsman that way: No Menasta, said she, that which you propose is not just; that way would be a revenge upon myself, and not upon Aglatidas; for Megabises is handsome enough to make Aglatidas think that I loved him; so that if it were so that ever he loved me, he would then quit that passion, and stick close unto his dear Anatisa: Then indeed he had some ground to believe that I might love a man who indeed was worthy of it: But when he shall see that I have chosen one for a husband, whom he knows certainly I could never love, then perhaps his heart, as perfidious and inconstant as it is will repent it of its fault: But it shall be an unprofitable repentance, for when I have married Otanus, I will then be as faithful unto him, as if I did love him, and as if he were the most accomplished man of the world: Ha heavens (said Menasta interrupting her) take good heed what you say. Can you have such a resolution (or to give it a fitter phrase) can you be so inhuman unto yourself, as to expose yourself unto the greatest of misfortunes? Do you think, that you can all your life long endure the presence of a man whose conversation has glutted you in one single hour? I cannot endure it doubtless (answered Amestris) the torment which I shall endure will justify me yet in the mind of Aglatidas; and after I have in that manner cleared myself, my death immediately and infallibly following, will beget such a torment also in his soul, as shall never extinguish: If there were any other way to justify myself, than perhaps I should not take this: But upon the whole matter, since Aglatidas does not himself complain, how can I guests at his disease and cure him otherwise? Yet (said Menasta to her) appearances are oftentimes fallatious, and for ought you know there may be some other cause which has begot this jealousy in Aglatidas, which you are ignorant of: Though that should be so (answered Amestris) yet Aglatidas is not more innocent: I do confess he might be a little jealous, and I should not have been offended at him; but it seems he could not love Anatisa sufficiently, without doing me this irreparable wrong: Therefore Menasta, I must, if it be possible, I must choke this new taken up love in him by an eternal sorrow, and an unprofitable repentance: But do you not consider (said Menasta) that in destroying this love in him, you destroy yourself also by such an unheard of way? That's it which I desire (replied Amestris) and if I did not know that melancholy is a gentle poison, which by insensible degrees does operate its effects, I would not abandon myself unto it: Permit me (said Menasta) to speak once more with Aglatidas: When I am dead (said Amestris) I will permit you; and then I conjure you to aggravate my sorrows unto him that it may increase his: What (said Menasta to her) do you speak of death and marriage together? Yes (replied Amestris) and as I am going to the Church, I will imagine it to be unto my grave, and shall hope that the Nuptial Torches will soon be changed unto Funerals: But why would you die, replied Menasta? Because (answered she) I cannot both live happily and innocently, since I find it to be very criminal to love Aglatidas. In conclusion Sir, Menasta was constrained to leave Amestris because it was very late. This prudent Lady was no sooner come unto her lodging, but she sent to seek me, being resolved to speak unto me, and if she could to cure my mind both of this jealousy and this new passion, for she did verily believe that I was in love with Anatisa, but all her labour was lost: The next morning she sent also unto Artaban, to desire his help in seeking me, but she sent a little too late for he was newly gone out: Mean while Artaban, as well as Menasta did despair of finding me: And these two which had such pleasant things to relate unto me, were both of them much troubled that they could not learn what was become of me: They were not like to know, since I concealed myself as close as I could with intention to let Megabises hear from me. Indeed, day did no sooner dawn, but I sent a man with a note unto him, which acquainted him how I desired to fight with him upon that Quarrel which he might easily guests at; and to let him know that the man whom I sent would conduct him unto the place where I would expect him with a Sword in my hand: But so it chanced that he whom I sent unto him found abundance of company with him, because three of his friends came to him and would have him go unto the King who intended to hunt that day, and to be with him before he went; this Note therefore could not be so handsomely delivered, but it was perceived, and suspected what the business was, so that it was impossible for Megabises to give me satisfaction. Artaban coming to hear of these reports acquainted the King, who gave order to secure Megabises, and commanded to look out for me: But here Sir may be admired how fortune does sport herself at the destinies of men: Although I did challenge Megabises, yet there was almost none in the Court that would believe it, unless those which were with him when he received the Note; and the report of it being spread abroad that Megabises and Aglatidas would fight, it was not thought likely that I who had killed his brother should also call him to an account: Amestris thought it to be Megabises who called me in question, and not I him; and did imagine that this would more confirm me in the opinion I had of her, so that she resolved to go on in her odd determination: Mean while Artaban with ten or twelve of his friends took horse and all the care they could to find me out: I knew by the return of the man whom I sent that Megabises was clapped up, and that he sent me word by him he would give me satisfaction as soon as he could: But when I perceived Artaban some two hundred paces off, and because I would not be clapped up as Megabises was, I galloped away, and as I often turned my head, I saw Artaban before the rest riding as hard as he could, and making signs with his hand to stay me, because he would speak with me. But as my misfortune had resolved my ruin, I persuaded myself that the wisdom of Artaban thought it not fit I should call that man in question whose brother I had killed, and indeed I myself did think it unreasonable; so that imagining that he had nothing to say unto me, unless that the King would make Megabises and me friends, the more he made signs to stay, the more I spurred my horse: I did oft understand what he said, but would not make answer; and I think he had overtook me, had I not met with a great Ditch which my Horse did freely take, but his would not under a quarter of an hours beating: In the mean time, I having found a thick wood which hindered his sight of me, I quit the common road, and took such an obscure path that Artaban was constrained to return very sorry and angry that he had not spoke with me. I not well knowing what resolution to take after I had contrived and devised a hundred designs, I went unto a Church which was not far off, the Priest whereof I knew, with whom I had an intention to stay four or five days concealed, imagining that they would restrain Megabises very long, and that as soon as he was at liberty, he would give me satisfaction; It would not be at all advantageous to you Sir, to tell you what kind of life I led in this place, supposing that you will imagine it to be most restless and melancholic. This Church was built in an ancient Forest, the trees whereof were so thick, that the Sun did never shine upon it: I wandered all the day in places least frequented; Sometimes I passed away the time with the Magis which dwelled thereabouts, and with him with whom I lodged: I had told him that some grumble at Court caused me to retire for a time: But whosoever I entertained myself withal, and wheresoever I walked alone, Megabises and Amestris took up all my thoughts: Perhaps, said I, they are just now together; perhaps Amestris is talking of me unto him with scorn, perhaps she is entreating him not to expose himself unto a new Quarrel; perhaps she is praying against my life; and perhaps Megabises and she are married: To tell you Sir, how sadly this last thought was resented, and how deeply it wounded my soul, is a story which I cannot possibly relate. Upon a day then when I was most dejectedly walking in the Forest, I discovered a Coach full of Ladies; I no sooner saw it but I rushed into the Wood: But one of the Ladies spying me, Aglatidas (cried she) do not fly, and but suffer me I beseech you to speak one minute with you: I knew the voice full well to be Menasta's, and imagining that perhaps Amestris was with her, I knew not whether I should stay or shun her: But at last hearing her call very earnestly and very often, I turned and came to her, as she was coming out of the Coach, which was very near the Church; she having two friends and one servant with her, did leave them, and desired them to go and stay in the Church whilst she did speak with me concerning some business she had with me: we being cousins, the Ladies which were with her did not think strange at her freedom to me, so that Menasta giving me her hand, and walking some twenty or thirty paces into the Wood without speaking a word to each other, she said unto me, looking me earnestly in the face; I do not know Aglatidas whether what I have to tell you will be welcome or unwelcome unto you, for since you love Anatisa so well, you will not regard the marriage of Amestris. Amestris (cried I out being transported with sorrow and jealousy) is she married? Yes, replied Menasta faintly, but Aglatidas, what does the news concern you, that you should be so troubled at it? you who have told me you did not nor would not love Amestris any longer? I think so to, replied I, and I believe I should not love her; but I do hate Megabises so much that I cannot hear of his happiness without an unimaginable despair: If Megabises (answered she) have no other joy but what the marriage of Amestris affords him, I would advise you not to trouble yourself at his good fortune: What (said I to her with a mind full of hatred, sorrow and jealousy, not knowing her meaning) can Megabises marry Amestris and not be the happiest and most satisfied man in the world? Ha Menasta (said I not giving her time to answer) this is not possible, but you have more reason to say that since he enjoys so much good fortune, that he shall not enjoy it long: for indeed that unjust Ravisher of the Treasure which belonged unto me, and which I thought to obtain, shall die by my own hand: Menasta wondering to see me so troubled, and transported with anger, she looked upon me, and interrupting me said, If you do not hate Megabises, I tell you again, but as the husband of Amestris, you may let your soul be in quiet, since it is not Megabises who has married her: Is it not Megabises that has married her, said I? No, said she: Ah Menasta (said I with a less troubled mind) do not mock me but speak more sincerely unto me; I protest unto you (said she) I do not lie; for Otanus is the man whom the incomparable Amestris hath married: Otanus (said I to her) married Amestris? Otanus the ugliest of men; he whom she most hated? Ha, if it be so, then either her Kindred or the King has compelled her unto this strange marriage: Not at all (Replied Menasta) and you had more interest in her affections then any had: I (replied I) being all amazement? I confess unto you (said I not knowing well what I said) that I had rather she should have married Otanus then Megabises: But for all that, know Menasta, that Aglatidas could not marry Amestris; or if he had been disposed it would not have been advantageous to him: yes (Replied Menasta) it would before the Beauty of Anatisa had razed out of your heart the love of Amestris: Anatisa (replied I hastily) had never any place in my heart: Amestris the perfidious Amestris only did reign there with Sovereignty: Menasta not being less astonished to hear me say so, than I was to her say Amestris was married, did ask me if it were very true that I loved Amestris yet? yes Menasta (said I unto her) I do love her yet; and though my own eyes did see such things, as I did not think I should ever see, yet I did leave adoring her perpetually: The love I showed unto Anatisa, was but counterfeit, and a mere effect of my despair: But Menasta (said I to her) what was it that set Megabises and Amestris at odds? and what moved her to marry Otanus? Megabises (said she to me) was never in league with Amestris: Ha Menasta (Replied I) you saw not that which I saw; Ha Aglatidas (said she) you saw nothing but what I know: You may here admire Sir what strange effects Love produced in my soul: The news of Amestris her marriage did infinitely afflict me; but because I thought she had been married unto Megabises, and afterwards heard she was not, I did a while resent some joy to mingle amongst my sorrows; this gave me a little comfort: But in conclusion Sir, after that Menasta had caused me to swear a hundred and a hundred times that I did not love Anatisa; She began to aggravate the Obligations which were upon me unto Amestris for her fidelity to me, and her rigour unto Megabises; And to make me more resent it, she told me how Amestris had forbidden Megabises for ever seeing her, and how he promised her that he would not, at the Fountain in the Green Border within the Garden, where accidentally they met. Ha Menasta (said I interrupting her) then have my eyes most cruelly betrayed me; and done me very bad service; So it was Sir, that Menasta telling me nothing but truth, and finding my soul softened with sorrows, it was no hard matter for her to persuade me: The Mist of Jealousy which was before my eyes did vanish; and I immediately saw that which I saw not before; that is, I saw Amestris appear extremely innocent, and myself infinitely to blame; After this, Menasta told me all that I have told you; the despair of Amestris to see me unconstant, and to know that I was jealous not knowing of whom, and at last to justify herself in my mind, she undertook this sad destiny to marry Otanus, knowing well that it was impossible it should be he of whom he was jealous. In conclusion Menasta told me that whereas I might have been the happiest of men, and given Amestris satisfaction, I had made myself the most unhappy, and made her more unfortunate than myself: Ah Menasta (cried I out) this is not possible, if it be, than never was misfortune equal unto mine: She told me further, that the quarrel which I intended with Megabises, did haste on her odd resolution: That my absenting myself, and Anatisa going into the Country at the same time, caused her to think that the voyage was agreed upon betwixt us: and she told all those who spoke unto her in the behalf of Otanus, that she was resolved to marry him, so that the business was not protracted but quickly dispatched: At the same time she asked the King's consent, who consented willingly thereunto, supposing it to be a good expedient to reconcile Megabises and me, both of us being equally in the principal cause of our differences: Menasta told me also that the King spoke to my Father concerning it; and that my Father seeing the coldness that was in me towards Amestris, and being glad that I should be no longer interested in the Love of Megabises, did himself desire the King to conclude up the match: In short Sir, Menasta told me that the business was so closely carried as almost none knew of it when they went unto the Church to be married. Alas Aglatidas (said she unto me) had you seen Amestris in that condition, you would have rather thought her going to a punishment then a Marriage; and might very well have seen her innocency by her sorrows: I saw her (said she) an hour before this sad Ceremony, and she no sooner saw me, but looking upon me with tears in her eyes, I know not (said she to me) whether the unconstant Aglatidas, if he saw me, would resent my sorrows, and repent of his crime; But however Menasta, it were requisite that I did justify myself: I would let him see his jealousy was ill-grounded, and I must die for grief; but if my prayers have any prevalency in them he must eternally lament it: As soon as she had uttered these doleful words, they called her to the Church, and I followed after with tears in my eyes like a sad Mourner: Every one who saw her wept also: all that knew of the Marriage were amazed, Megabises although he was very patient at it, yet it infinitely stung him: Artaban was ready to forbid the Banes when the Ceremony was almost finished, coming into the Church no sooner: Otanus himself. was so surprised, and not so well satisfied as he might be, because he did not very well understand how this good fortune did come about; and because he was so conscious of so many defects in himself, as he knew that he could not be beloved: indeed it was the discourse of all the world, and every one vented their conceits concerning it, though there was none but Amestris and Menasta which knew that Aglatidas was the only cause of this so unjust, so unreasonable, and so discordant a Marriage. Never ask me (said she unto me) what Amestris did after this dismal day; she was all Melancholy, all altered, and I could never look upon her but with tears; if you saw her yourself, you would pity her and be sad. As we two were thus together, Artaban (to complete my misfortune) having at last discovered where I was, came and found me harkening unto Menasta: He no sooner saw me, but coming to me, Ah cruel Friend (cried he) what have you done? And why did you so obstinately fly me? I who had the best and most delightful news in the world to tell you? I that could have told you that your own eyes had deluded you, and that Amestris was most innocent. Menasta much surprised to hear him say so, asked him what he meant by saying so? Then he told her before me, how he heard Amestris and she in the Green Arbour, where he had learned by their discourse, how that Amestris was faithful unto Aglatidas, and that she never loved Megabises: how that their meeting in the green border by the Fountain, was by mere chance and not appointed, how that she had commanded Megabises never to see her more, and that accordingly he went away and observed her order, and in conclusion that he heard how Amestris was purely innocent. I hearing then Artaban speak thus, and being no longer in any suspicion of the fidelity of Amestris; Tell me some more cruel friend (said I to him,) And double my misfortune by telling me thus of my good: Forget nothing which might have made me happy, to the end I may be eternally miserable. It is hard for me to tell you Sir, what confusion my thoughts were in upon this accident; I looked upon my error with a horrid shame: I harkened unto the justification of Amestris with abundance of joy; and I resented my own misfortune with a strange despair: But when my imagination presented unto my soul, that Amestris the fairest Lady in the world, should be in the possession of the most ugly and odious man; I quite lost all Patience, and could not choose but lament and be stupid: But since Menasta could stay no longer, she left me: at last I said to her, May I not once more see Amestris? I do not think (replied Menasta) that she will permit it; and in that mind which I left her, you can never hope for any more favour from her: Ha Menasta, (said I) do not add to my despair; I would gladly see Amestris, I would discourse with her, I would throw myself at her feet; and if you would be pleased to facilitate the way, I may perhaps do something which would please Amestris, and which might render my despair more public: In short Sir, I spoke with such violence as moved Menasta to pity me: and promised me to deceive her friend for once: and to let me hear from her when she found a sit time for her to meet me in some place: After this, Menasta went away, and Artaban who had no other business but to find me out, and tell me that it was his design to prevent my misfortune, he stayed with me, and would not leave me in that condition wherein I was: and so much the willinger because he saw the Counsel which he had given me took such unfortunate effect: But I was so just as not to be angry with him for it: I accused only myself not my friend: Must it not be confessed (said I) that I am the most unfortunate, the most culpable, and therefore the most to be blamed of any man in the world? for indeed (said I to Artaban) I have had a greater loss than ever any had; I have been in greater fault than ever any was; and I have suffered more than the most unfortunate man ever did; After I had said so, I was a while silent, then again upon a sudden I began to speak: But Artaban (said I unto him) did you see Amestris in the Church? No (answered he) for I was so troubled when meeting Menasta who told me that Otanus had married Amestris, that I could be no more inquisitive concerning a business which I could not help, and which I had helped doubtless, if I had but known it one quarter of an hour sooner: What then (said I to him) is it most true that Amestris did always love me? and is it also certain she never favoured Megabises? and after all this can I be happy? How Artaban can this possibly be? No, no (said I) I cannot comprehend it; since Amestris is Fidele, and Megabises not happy, in this respect the heart of Aglatidas must needs rejoice: But alas, the thought that Amestris is Fidele, and must never be mine, this respect makes dead in sorrow; No, no I had rather you were unconstant then faithful; and since you are never to be mine, Why do you, cruel Amestris, preserve your affection for me, yet deprive me of all the consequents? To deprive me of your sight; your discourse, and your fair self? This is (inhuman Amestris) to conceal a Serpent under Flowers; This is the way to poison your presence; and indeed it is to be barbarous under a colour of being pitiful; Alas, had it not much more availed me not to have justified yourself, then to have done it in such a strange, such an extraordinary, and such a cruel way? For in believing you to be unconstant, I had none but my own misfortunes to support: I than thought you happy whilst I sighed; and I did not know that your felicity did not cause my greatest punishment: I had not experimentally tried that I should be more sensible of the misfortunes of the party beloved then of my own. What, Amestris? Must you be for ever unhappy, and unhappy for the Love of me? Must you eternally endure the sight of a man whom you hated, and never see another whom you once honoured with your Love? and all this because Aglatidas seemed to be perfidious unto you, and because he was jealous without reason, though not without some kind of appearance, and by consequence without any show that I loved you still; though none are ever jealous of that which they do not love. Alas Amestris (said I) Did you so little know your own Beauty, that you should suffer yourself to be deluded by a trick so easy to be discovered? Could you ever think that any heart which once loved you and adored you could offer any Victims unto any other Divinity? As for Aglatidas, he might with reason think himself not beloved by Amestris, his own defects might authorise his suspicion: But as for Amestris, how is it possible, she should so much as conceive, much less firmly believe, that any one could cease from loving her? and so cease to love her as to love any other? yet she did think it, she believed it; and she has revenged herself, and after such a sad manner as must make me eternally sigh: for to say truly, there neither is, nor was, nor I think ever can be any misfortune comparable unto mine; I know not (said Artaban then unto me) whether all those who are not beloved will acknowledge what you say; Those who are not loved (answered I) may hope that one day they may be, and that hope may support them amidst their inquietudes. But as for me, on the contrary, though I confess I was beloved, I shall never receive any signs of that affection: I must never see Amestris again, never speak to her; she will never write unto me again, but shall be treated as one she hates: No, no Artaban, I am certainly the most unhappy man in all the world: yet those who lament for the death of their Mistresses will dispute with you for the first rank in unhappiness, although you would have all they would yield it unto you: they do dispute with me for it without reason (Replied I) for who hinders them from following those they love unto the grave? There are a hundred ways which lead to death, and the end of their evils is in their own disposition: But it is not so with me, for as long as Amestris lives, this remedy is denied me: I must preserve my life as if she were delighted with it: for indeed I cannot leave Amestris, because I cannot omit any occasion which may serve her, and because after all this I would see, as well as I can, how far the fidelity of this Lady will go; Then confess, said Artaban, that those who see their Mistresses not only unconstant and married, but married unto those whom they are more indulgent unto then the first they loved, have more cause to complain than you; I stayed a while at this before I answered; but presently beginning to speak as if I had seen Amestris: Pardon (Divine Lady) my imbecility, and do not hate me, if in this accident I do consider myself more than you: Yes yes Artaban (said I in turning towards him) I do confess that I do contradict my own thoughts: and although I am desperate at the misfortune of Amestris, yet I would not have her happy with Megabises, but I had rather she should be unfortunate with Otanus; I had need to call all my reason and my generosity to assist me, and to keep this criminous joy from entering my heart: I cannot forbear the entertaining it when I know that he who now enjoys Amestris shall never enjoy her love: and when I know she thinks upon me with sorrow, and eternally regrets me: I would have her know my innocency as I know hers, and that I should be justified in her thoughts as she is in mine: I know (said I) this will augment her sorrow, since it may come to pass that despite will choke some part of that affection she bears unto me: But, adorable Amestris (said I) seek out some other remedies for your sorrows, and find it rather in the sweetness to know, that you are perfectly though improfitably loved: After this I went silently to walk: afterwards upon a sudden I began to speak, answering unto what I had thought upon: No Megabises, said I, I will not fight with you: and though you should offend me, yet if you still love Amestris, you are more cruelly punished then any death can inflict: And afterwards to speak the very truth, without that Passion which hath blinded me, I did owe so much respect unto the blood of his Brother which I had let out, as not to think of spilling his: But as for Otanus (said I) how can I suffer him to live? and knowing the virtue of Amestris, how dare I so much as to desire his death? What then (said I to Artaban with more anger than I can now express) must I all my life long see Amestris, the incomparable Amestris, subject unto a man unto whom the gods have denied all things except his bare condition and his Riches? and unto whom they have not given any more soul then as much as will render him odious? Why Artaban is it not permitted me to set Amestris at liberty? Ha No No (said I to myself) I dare not attempt it, I dare not propound it unto her; I dare not so much as have a thought of it lest she should forbid it; what shall I then do (said I to Artaban) and what should I think? So it was Sir, that I can well say, that I suffered as much as was possible to be suffered, and not die: the joy which I resented at the innocence of Amestris did doubtless keep in my life, it not being possible without that cordial to have kept my heart from breaking when I heard she was married: But though I lived, yet surety it was to endure more sorrow: for certainly the obscurity of a grave was much to be preferred before the trouble and misery which I endured: Sometimes Otanus did not seem so odious unto me as he always before did seem; sometimes I thought that Amestris did not apprehend his defects so great, because it was grown habitual unto her to see them: I feared also that the Treasures which Otanus possessed did not really reach his heart, but those fears lasted not long: My greatest Consolation was to think that Amestris could not love him who possessed it: In the mean time the night drawing on, it was time to retire: I passed that night away without sleep, and I complained away the two next days; Upon the third in the morning I received news from Menasta, who sent me word that if I would be in the Garden about the green Border where the Fountain is by six of the clock at night, she would bring Amestris thither, as not knowing that I would be there; but to prevent any discovery of this meeting, it were requisite she went into the thick wood on the right hand of the Fountain: Whosoever should have told me Sir but one minute before that I should have another minute of joy in all my life, I could not have believed him: yet I no sooner knew that I should see Amestris again that day, but I abandoned myself entirely: I went thither an hour before, never thinking either of Megabises or Otanus, or of the marriage of Amestris; and never thinking of any thing else but that I should see her, that I should speak to her, and that perhaps she would answer me favourably. And afterwards reviving upon a sudden out of the pleasant Lethargy of thought: Alas! (said I) what can she possibly answer me, which can render me less miserable, since the more sweet she is unto me, the more miserable does she make me? yet for all that I desire her to be so, and not incensed against me. I entertained all that day on this manner with Artaban, and I sent unto Menasta that I would not fail to be there: Mean while, this witty Lady did really delude Amestris (as since I came to know) and propounded this solitary walk unto her, as most suitable to her humour and present condition: yet notwithstanding, she thought it convenient, that Amestris should not resent me so culpable as formerly she did, therefore she brought her an hour sooner unto the Walk than she appointed me, to the end that she might have more time to prepare her: As they were then in that little Wood where she led her, the fair afflicted Lady did herself begin to contribute unto the design, and begun a discourse of which my Cousin was very glad: It must be acknowledged Menasta (said she to her) that the misfortune which thus persecutes me, is very rigid against me, since it will not suffer me to have that comfort as to know what Aglatidas does think of my misfortune: He is so taken up with Anatisa, that perhaps they mock at my Melancholy destiny: and perhaps Aglatidas thinks my Marriage rather an effect of my humour then as a misfortune whereof he is the real cause: But (said she) my soul is a little more reasonable, for I cannot forbear wishing two different things at once: I no sooner had wished to know that Aglatidas was sensible of my misfortune, but presently after I desire for my own quietness to understand no more of him; never to meet him as long as I live; nor hear no more spoken of him: but alas, all these designs have but an ill bottom in my heart; and I have more reason to resent my Marriage as a great punishment for any loving such a perfidious man: I wish, said Menasta, that you had never thought him such a cruel man, or that you would no longer think him so; but as I think you are more unhappy by resenting him so; What (said Amestris interrupting her,) should I not believe that Aglatidas was perfidious? and can I think that he is not so still? Ah No No Menasta. I must not think him otherwise, and for the future I must not persuade myself of any thing that may justify him: I wish only that he would repent of his crime, to the end that he may be a punishment unto himself: But know that as long as I do not think Aglatidas repentant and unhappy, he does not put the stability of my soul unto any dangerous trial: And it would be more cruel unto me to tell me that I was deceived; that Aglatidas was never culpable; that what I have seen was but an illusion; that he hath been always faithful unto me; That he never loved Anatisa, and that he hath ever loved Amestris; I confess Menasta, that if I could be persuaded of all this, than I should be more unhappy than I am: and though I should not become more criminal, yet doubtless I should become more unfortunate: But this is a thing which can never be, and a thing which I need not fear: I would to God (said Menasta to her) it were possible you never were acquainted with the innocency of Aglatidas: The innocency of Aglatidas (replied Amestris? Ha, I do entreat you not to make merry at my misfortune; it is too great Menasta to be used for your diversion; and I am more your friend then to be treated so. No No, replied she, I speak seriously; Aglatidas it is true was very unwise, but he was ever faithful: What, replied Amestris, did not Aglatidas love Anatisa? Aglatidas, answered Menasta, never loved any but you: O Heavens (cried out this wise Lady) merciless and cruel woman that you are, why do you speak thus unto me? If this you tell me be false, why do you tell it? and if it be true, why did you not either tell it sooner, or eternally conceal it from me? I could tell it no sooner, replied Menasta, because I knew it no sooner; and I could not hide it, because Aglatidas is resolved to tell it you himself: Oh (replied she with a quite altered countenance) whether Aglatidas be culpable or innocent, I will never see him as long as I live; if he be culpable he is not worthy of it; and though he be innocent, yet I shall be criminal to suffer it; therefore Menasta talk no more of him, he does but too much take up my memory; he is but too much in my heart, and I wish to heaven he were less: After these words she was silent; and Menasta seeing her mind was so much troubled, did repent of her promise and was a good while before she durst speak any more unto her: After some minutes had thus passed on, Amestris looking upon her with eyes swimming in tears, and beginning to speak with less violence; But yet, said she, Menasta, what moved you to speak thus unto me? I durst tell you no more, answered Menasta, for seeing the innocence of Aglatidas did torment you as much as if he were criminal, I thought it better to speak no more of him, neither as faithful or as inconstant: Know Menasta, replied she, that I love you so much as to pardon such a fault, and know (said she blushing) that I desire you to tell me all you know concerning Aglatidas, and disguise nothing from me: Menasta, seeing Amestris desired it, told her all she knew concerning my adventure; to wit how I came to be jealous by seeing Megabises with her in the Garden: how that moved me to leave writing unto her: how I did not cease to love her: how Artaban had counselled me to love Anatisa, or at least to seem as if I did; and how I challenged Megabises, and hid myself to no other end but to fight with him; and in conclusion, seeing Amestris harken favourably unto what she told her; then she told her further what I had told unto her; and confessed she had discovered in me so many signs of absolute despair, that she was not able to deny me one request which I made unto her, which was that I would be a means that I might once more see her: In conclusion, Madam (said she) that you may not be too much surprised at it, be pleased to know, that I induced you hither, only to the end that Aglatidas might present himself unto you: Ah Menasta (said Amestris) what have you done? unto what have you exposed me? how do you think I can endure the sight of a man whom I have made so unfortunate? and how can I deny that unto a man who might have made me all happiness? Yes Menasta, you have done me great wrong, if this meeting should be discovered, would the world not think it was by my consent? What will all the Court say? what may Otanus think? unto how much danger do I hazard my reputation? No no, I must never consent unto what you have promised him: how would you have me speak unto him? what would you have me say? Shall I tell him I love him still? alas I cannot do so without a crime, or at least it is not handsome to do it; Shall I tell him that I hate him? Ha, good Gods, how can I say it? I who did not so, when I thought him perfidious? Speak then Menasta, I conjure you; you have wit and virtue, and discretion, I beseech you advise me, and advise me faithfully: Yet (replied she, not giving her leave to answer) it is better to ask no counsel at all, and shun so dangerous an occasion: In saying so, she began to walk, and go away; When Menasta did bid her look where I was coming; she no sooner saw me, but she shed tears; and as she turned from me to hide them, I kneeled down at her feet, before she was well recovered in her sight; I thought Sir that I had such a share in those sorrows which I observed in Amestris, and they did so augment mine, that I had much add to speak; yet after much straining myself, I said unto her, You see at your feet Madam, the most culpable, the most innocent, and the most unfortunate man that breathes, who as criminal comes to ask punishment; who as innocent comes to justify himself before you; and who as unfortunate comes to beg compassion, and some comfort in his misery: Not Madam, that I seek to live, but that I desire to die more cheerfully and gloriously both: And this will be (Divine Amestris) if you will be pleased only to acknowledge that I have not merited my misfortune; and that you would not judge me unworthy of a more happy destiny. I know not Aglatidaas (answered she, and raising me up) neither whether I should answer you, nor whether I should hear you, but I know very well that you are the only cause both of your misfortunes and mine; for indeed Amestris is not one of whom one ought to be jealous: Why Madam (said I) should I give the lie unto my own eyes? Should I trust more unto your merit and your goodness, then to their testimony? Do you not know Madam, that except the last time when I had the honour to speak unto you, you never had given me any strong arguments to believe but that I stood upon any good terms in your mind? What then would you have it Madam which should sustain my weakness upon such an occasion? If I had received several proofs and trials of your affection to me, than it had been a horrid crime to suspect your inconstancy: But what engagements had I from you Madam, which might create in me so great a confidence: It is true indeed that I have had some favourable expressions from you, and was permitted to interpret them in the best sense for myself, and that I have received some civil and obliging Letters from you: but Madam, were all these sufficient to belie my own eyes; and had my passion been worthy of you if I had retained all my reason upon such an accident? No Madam, to love you perfectly is to lose all reason as I have lost it; and to preserve only respect as I have preserved it; for indeed I did not complain it before all the world; I lamented in secret, I sought out folitude to sigh it out there; and when I returned to Ecbatan, I was forced to it: You returned (said Amestris to me interrupting me and changing colour) to wait upon Anatisa before my eyes, and to force me against my will to receive a passion which could not enter into a soul that was not preceded by another. Ah Madam, said I to her, I beseech you do not upbraid me with a fault which indeed I have committed, but I committed it by the counsel of another: 'Tis true I did counterfeit a love unto Anatisa, but it was only because I ever loved you; that open love was but an effect of my true concealed love; and I know not how the adorable Amestris should suffer herself to be deceived by so gross an artifice, and which I used with so little care; Do not think Madam that I have profaned the same words which I employed to persuade you of my affection, and that I ever courted Anatisa; No, I never told her that I loved her; I let her interpret my melancholy as she pleased, but I never did say so much as I love you. I do confess that I once did intend it, but my heart and my tongue were, whether I would or no, faithful unto you: Yes Madam, when I fled from you, when you thought I courted Anatisa, even than I gave you convincing testimonies of the greatness of my affection: For to love the fairest Lady in the world as long as she is gracious and favourable, this is a thing most ordinary; but for me to continue loving her, when I thought she had forsaken me, when I believed she had betrayed me and loved another, and I for fear of discovering my weakness seemed to love another; Ah Madam, this is it which makes it evident, that nothing can extinguish my passion but death, and that you will reign eternally in my soul: Amestris all the time of this discourse dejected her eyes, and afterwards upon a sudden lifting up her eyelids with extreme melancholy: Justify yourself no more (said she to me) for you are yet but too much in my mind; and let me employ that little time I have to be with you in telling you ingenuously my real thoughts: I would Madam (said I to her) if it may be without prejudice to that reverence I owe you, beseech you first not to make me despair, but to let me die less violently; I would gladly ask you why when you thought me culpable, you should then be revenged upon yourself? Could you not invent a punishment which I alone might have suffered the misery which you thought I deserved? Why did you not rather doom me to die before your eyes? Why Madam did you punish me by making your self unhappy? I thought it best (answered she) in my opinion to make you miserable by this course, because I could not otherwise justify myself in your mind, and I thought I could not do it more certainly then by marrying Otanus, whom you knew well I did not love, and of whom I knew most assuredly you were not jealous: Ah Madam (said I to her) what do you tell me? Must Aglatidas hear from your own mouth such cruel words? What Madam, Otanus? that same Otanus who I have seen to be the greatest object of your aversion: Can he ever be the husband of Amestris? Yes, answered she, since Aglatidas would not: I beseech you Madam, said I to her, have not such a thought of me; but on the contrary believe that if you will but let Aglatidas alone, Amestris shall not be long the wife of Otanus; I pronounced these words in a very passionate violence: But oh Heavens, how astonished I was, when I saw Amestris go back and look upon me with an imperious air, wherein appeared no less anger than sorrow: Know Aglatidas, said she to me, that as I have not changed my opinion of you, so I have not changed my virtue, I am the same you knew me, and ever will be, It is incapable of any injustice; I have loved you, I confess, but I loved you without a crime; Never think then, that although I ever had a great aversion towards Otanus, and had never married him out of such a thought as I cannot myself express, yet I say never think that I can ever desire not to be his Wife: The time was indeed when I did not desire it; but since I am so, it befits me to live with him as my Husband, and not to deceive. You know (said she, with eyes full of tears which she would have restrained) that I will live out all the rest of my days with Otanus, whom I have ever hated, as if I had ever loved him; and with Aglatidas whom I ever loved, as if I ever hated him: Why Madam, said I to her, will you live with Aglatidas as if you ever hated him? What rigid virtue can impose such a severe law upon you? No, no Madam, said I to her, do not fear that I will use any violence; do not punish me so cruelly for one word pronounced against my will in passion, and without any design to execute it: I would have killed Megabises because I thought you loved him, and I will not attempt against Otanus, because you do not love him, and I will hope that you will never love him: Let then this happy Husband of the fair Amestris live, so I may have so much happiness as sometimes to see her, that I may be put in mind of those glorious hours, wherein by the will of Artambaces I might have possessed the place which Otanus not enjoys; let him enjoy that glorious place in peace, since the fatal Destinies would have it so; but let me also possess in peace that which you have given me; let me Madam enjoy some glimpse of that felicity to the last minute of my life: You may, if you will, bring me to my death, as they use to bring Victims, that is, with Songs of joy and Crowns of flowers: Yes Madam, I should die with joy and honour, if you would only permit me to render you an account of my sorrows: And never fear that I shall ever desire any thing from you which can displease you; No, divine Amestris, I would only have my complaints to be favourably heard, and I would only be comforted by some words of pity: you have harkened unto Megabises whom you do love, and will you refuse the same favour unto a man whom you have not hated, nor perhaps do yet? That's the reason (replied she) why I ought to deny it; for indeed Aglatidas I did love you, and I cannot hate you, so that for that very reason I ought to mistrust my own thoughts: It is not (said she) and the gods do know it, the affection which I bear unto you can ever cause me to fa●l in that duty which I owe unto Otanus, nor in that which I owe unto myself, but because I am not in a capacity ever to be yours, therefore I ought not to admit of seeing you or loving you: What then Madam, said to her, do you intent then to hate me? I cannot do that if I would (answered she) but I can forbear speaking to you: Ah if you can do that (said I to her) than you will not love me any more: And take heed Madam, you do not renew a fresh jealousy in a desperate soul, and persuade me, that perhaps the riches of Otanus did gain your heart: Do not Madam stir upon such a violent passion in my mind; and to prevent it afford me at the least some small signs of indifference: For indeed Madam, If you should cause me to despair, I should again lose my Reason absolutely, as I did in my first jealousy, and perhaps shall not be able to preserve that respect which I ever have done: Tell me then, adorable Amestris, that you do not hate me, and that you would have me love you: and also permit me sometimes to tell you that I am ready to die for the love of you: I will tell you more than that (said she;) for I will confess that I esteem Aglatidas, as I ought to esteem him; and that I love him as well as ever I did love him; and that I will love him so until I die: But after all this; he must see me no more as long as he lives: All that I can do for you is to permit you to think that when you shall hear of my death (which I believe will be ere long) that melancholy was the cause, and that my last thoughts would be of Aglatidas; Now (said she) you see all I can do, and perhaps more than I ought to do, and therefore never hope for any more: Who ever saw (said I unto her) the like adventure unto mine? You tell me that you have loved me, and that you love me still; you tell me that you will die in thoughts of me, and why will you not whilst you are alive hear me sometimes? It is because I cannot (answered she) without some offence to virtue, and without too much exposing my reputation: Does not your innocency (said I) suffice to satisfy that? No (answered Amestris) it behoves to appear as well as be virtuous: Appear then (said I to her) to be good and pitiful, if it be true that you are so: Do you (said she) appear reasonable and generous, if you will continue to be always what you are: Would you have Aglatidas Madam, said I, see you no more, and perhaps love you no more? I ought to wish the latter as well as the first (replied she) but I confess I cannot: What would you then have me do, said I? I would (answered she) have him love Amestris without any hope; that he should comfort himself without seeing me; that he should live with desire of death; and that he never forget me: In saying so, she would have left me, but I took her by the hand whether she would or no, holding her by force, and kneeling down: In the Name of God Madam (said I) either grant me what I desire, or do not forbid my death: I can consent unto no more (said she to me) honour bids me deny what you desire, and my affection bids you live at least as long as I: Have Patience Aglatidas (said she) perhaps the time will not be long: Ah Madam (said I to her) speak not thus of your death; Rather forget Aglatidas then let the Fairest Lady in the world find a Tomb; you might do better (said she) to phrase her the most unfortunate, and perhaps also the most unjust, and the most inhuman: But in the Name of those gods which I have already invoked Madam (said I to her) let me speak unto you but once more: Adieu Aglatidas (said she) adieu, I begin to think my heart would betray me if I should hearken to you any longer, and that I ought to trust unto my own virtue no longer: Live (said she) if you can, and if it be possible love none but Amestris, and never see her more; she prays you, and if you will admit of it, she commands you; I pronouncing this sad sentence she left me all in tears; and all that I could do was to kiss her fair hand which she drew away from mine with too much violence: you may judge Sir in what a condition I was when I saw Amestris going away with Menasta, who all the while of our discourse, stood five or six paces from us, to watch lest any came, and understood nothing at all what we said: I will not insist Sir upon repetition of my apprehensions, for it would but too much abuse your patience: Let this serve for all, that there was never any esteemed himself more undone and unfortunate than I: for indeed I found that I loved and was beloved, but for all that there is not any ingredient of hope left for me: I found that it was not permitted me to force my happiness from him which enjoyed it: I had no more Rivals to punish, I had no more inconstant Mistresses to complain upon, What comfort could I ever hope for amidst my sorrows? I had no power to forget one which loved me, who had all my heart, my spirits, my soul, my memory, and all, and for whom I forgot all the word besides: There was not any hope for me to speak unto her; She had forbid me to die; Indeed I found nothing but what did extraordinarily afflict me; yet notwithstanding I would try whether by the assistance of Menasta I could speak once more unto Amestris, but Sir it could not possibly be obtained: and from that day this cruel Lady would never walk in any place, lest she meet with me: also she feigned to be sick, to the end she might not go out at all. When I understood by Menasta the full resolution of Amestris, never to alter, I then determined to remove from that place where I could not see her; ●est in consideration of me, I might perhaps have contributed unto her death, by causing her restraint: As for Megabises who was as much vexed at the marriage of Amestris as I was, although he was thought not to love any longer when he came to Ecbatan: yet he found as well as I that it was not such an easy matter to extinguish a violent passion. Astyages having heard where I was, did reconcile us, without seeing or embracing one another, common ding me because I had killed his brother to shun meeting him as much as I could possible. The cause of our last quarrel was not known unto any, no not unto Megabises himself, who was always ignorant that I had seen him in that fatal garden, near the Fountain in the green border: As concerning Anatisa, I left Ecbatan before she returned out of the Country: so that I cannot tell you what she thought of me: I did write a Letter at my departure unto Amestris, which I sent unto Menasta, but I never had any answer unto it. I went wand'ring a while from Province to Province, not well knowing what I did, nor what course to take until such time as the War begun in Assiria; I hoped there to put a period unto my misfortunes, in finding out an honourable death. During all the time I was there, I never received any news, neither from Menasta nor Amestris; although I used all possible means to engage some or other to inquire of them: And ever since that you have been a witness of my Melancholy, although you knew not the cause: And since that I never heard more of Amestris, unless what I knew by Araspes, how that Otanus was yet living, and that yet she was unfortunate, and in all likelihood, since Melancholy did so remain in her face, she yet perhaps loves the unfortunate Aglatidas; Now Sir, you understand what the adventure was which you desired to know, and what were the misfortunes of that man who more than any man in the world wishes a happy end unto yours, and who expects nothing but death to put an end unto his own.  
After these words Aglatidas was silent; and Artamenes thanked him for the pains which he had taken: ask him pardon for causing him to revive his sorrows, and did seem to be extremely sensible of them: I confess, said he to him, that you are much to be lamented, and the accident which has made you so unfortunate was a very extraordinary event: But for all that, said he to him sighing, you do know that Amestris is living, and you need not doubt but that yet you are beloved: So that you may hope that Time and Fortune may work a happy change in your affection; But I do know some more unfortunate than you: I know not that Sir, replied Aglatidas, but I do know very well that I did lose an inestimable Jewel in losing Amestris, and that if ambition should join itself unto Love to persecute me, I could not be more Melancholy than I am; yet Sir, it is very generous in you, to interest yourself more in the misfortunes of others than your own: You have unjust and heavy fetters of your own to complain of, and need not trouble yourself to lament the unhappiness of Aglatidas, who is not worthy of that honour. Aglatidas, answered he, is worthy of all that is great in the world, and therefore I hope that one day, the Gods will put a period unto his misfortunes: Although I had all the qualities in the world, replied Aglatidas, those which you do attribute unto me, would not create any hope in me; and as long as Artamenes continues unhappy, I know not why any who have any virtue, should ground their hopes upon that reason which is not always infallible: Thus did Artamenes and Aglatidas discourse away the time until Andramias told them that it was time to retire: Aglatidas asked Artamenes whether he could do him any service, desiring to let him know that he could contribute something towards his delivery; but Artamenes thanked him, and told him that his prison was not so great a misfortune, but if he could he would never come out, unless by the same hand which put him in.    
The End of the First Part.   

THE SECOND PART OF ARTAMENES, OR Cyrus the Great.  

BOOK I.  
THough this Illustrious Prisoner was careless of his Liberty, yet his friends did contribute all their diligence to procure it: and Hidaspes entertained not a thought of any thing else, ever since he knew Artamenes, to be Cyrus: Not only Hidaspes, Aducius, Artabases, Chrisantes, and Feraulas, who were native subjects unto the King his Father, and hereafter to be his, did all of them in particular, contrive all expedients for his safety: But the King of Hyrcania, the King of Phrygia, Persodes, Thrasibulus, and many others also, were not less solicitous. So that, to lose no time, Chrisantes went the next morning betimes unto the King of Phrygia, with intentions to relate unto him, in a more concise manner, all 〈…〉 t, which the day before, he had related concerning the unhappy life of his dear Ma〈…〉 r: but since they thought it expedient to keep always some about Ciaxares, to pre 〈…〉 t him from taking any violent resolutions against Artamenes, the King of Phrygia said, thought it fittest for him, to undertake that office, since he was most affectionate, and 〈…〉 d most prevalency with the King of Medes. In that consideration therefore, Chri 〈…〉 tes did in short tell him the story of Artamenes, whereof he himself had seen a great 〈…〉 t, and resolved hereafter, at more leisure, to relate the particulars in a more ample 〈…〉 nner. Chrisantes did so satisfy the curiosity of this Prince, and did so extremely 〈…〉 me him by his relation, although it was but a bare abridgement of his Life, that he 〈…〉 infinitely redouble his esteem of Artamenes: and caused him to go with more diligence 〈…〉 o Ciaxares, and observe all his Resentments. In the mean time, Chrisantes and Fe 〈…〉 s went unto the house of Hidaspes, where the King of Hyrcania, Persodes, Thrasibul●s, 〈…〉 ba●es, Adusius, and all those who heard Chrisantes the day before did Rendez-vous. 〈…〉 y no sooner saw Chrisantes and Feraulas, but they did very importunately desire them 〈…〉 nish their discourse of the glorious life of Artamenes. The Princes would have sent the King of Phrygi●: but Chrisantes told him how he had already satisfied his Curio 〈…〉, and then they did ●it down, whilst Feraulas did pursue that story which Chrisantes began the day before.  

THE CONTINVANCE OF THE HISTORY OF Artamenes.  
WHen I call to memory all the great Acts, which Chrisantes told you yesterday, I have much ado to think it possible, there should be any thing else to tell you; And when I think upon all which remains, that I am to relate unto you, than me thinks Chrisantes hath told you nothing, so full of miracles is the life of my Masters. I know Sir (said Feraulas to the King of Hyrcania) you have not forgot, how after that combat 'twixt him and Philidaspes,, wherein he had the advantage, he retired unto that sacrificer whom he saw in the Temple of Mars, when he came first to Sinope, and from thence he sent unto the King and the Princess, to present his excuses, and beg pardon for the combat which he had made, but I think you know not the sequel of that accident: Aribeus who did patronise Philidaspes, did all he could to cause the fault to reflect upon Artamenes; but although Aribeus spoke all that his Genius could suggest in behalf of Philidaspes; yet the eloquence of my Masters great services spoke more effectually for himself. Nothing made a greater noise in the Court then this Combat: every one was inquisitive of the cause, but none could find it: It was the common discourse of the Court; and every one imagined that Ambition caused the quarrel: but yet as none did particularly know the original, so each one took the liberty to think as they would. The King was extremely angry at the mischance: for as they were men of high service, both of them; so he was afraid to lose them both, or at least one, because their wounds were very great; especially Philidaspes, whose hurts were much more dangerous than those of Artamenes. And though the King did highly prise them both; yet his mind did put a great difference between them: when he begun to consider how he owed his life unto Artamenes, and unto his valour all his illustrious victories, he could not choose but in spite of Aribeus and all he could say, prefer Artamenes before Philidaspes. He was extremely displeased at the matter; but he conceived he ought not to punish them, as well because he loved them and was obliged unto them, as because neither of them were born subjects unto him, and therefore by consequence ought not to treat them rigorously; yet notwithstanding, for formalities sake upon such an occasion, he would have the Princess come to ask their pardon, which by absolute command from the King she did, though not without some repugnancy. After this formal ceremony he sent to know of their healths; and to tell Artamenes, that he had done worse in so exposing himself, then if he had hazarded a Battle: He also sent some obliging compliment unto Philidaspes, so that the business was better passed over then every one did think it. That which did most vex Philidaspes was to see all the Court take Artamenes part, except some old friends of Aribeus, who fauned upon his favourite. Now Sir, It is time to tell you what the Princess thought upon the matter: for although by the Kings command she had begged pardon for these two Illustrious offenders, yet she kn●w not, whether for her particular, she could consent unto it: I am now about speaking such secrets concerning her, as you will be inquisitive how I should come to the knowledge of them; therefore it is requisite I should now tell you, that a long time since, one of Mandana's women, called Martesia, with whom I had a great league of friendship, did tell it unto me: for at that time there passed between us only a bare common civility; and I was then altogether ignorant of what I now intent to relate. You may be pleased to remember, that the day before this Combat was fought, the Princess used all her endeavours to contract a league of friendship between Artamenes and Philidaspes; and how she entreated them to live at least, as if they did (though they could not) love one another: So that as soon as she understood of their fight, she was in a great choler, and thought that they failed in their Respects to her. Martesia, of whom I spoke, was she, whom of all her women she loved most, and in whom she had most confidence; but until that time Martesia had tasted more of her liberality then her trust: and I believe that what the Princess thought of Artamenes upon this occasion, was the first great secret which she imparted unto her; nor had she as I think any other, who she pleased to create her confident. It was now a long time since the Princess looked upon my Master with much esteem; and indeed, I learned from Martesia that she did extremely commend him, ever since the first time she saw him; and since that time, upon a hundred accidents, she has spoke of him after such a manner as she was not wont to speak of any else; she observed his handsome Garb; she liked his pleasant spirit; she commended his wisdom; she admired his valour; she could not comprehend his good fortune; and indeed she said, that Artamenes was every way a miracle, and one whom the Gods had sent as a Protector of her father's life, and glory of his Reign; But upon this last accident, her anger had so incensed her mind, as it compelled her to open her heart unto Martesia. I know not (said she to her that night the fight was) whether or no I should, after the example of the King, pardon Artamenes and Philidaspes: for indeed Martesia, could there be any thing more offensive unto me, than this their procedure? I no sooner desired them to love one another, but they presently quarrel; I wished them to live, as if they loved at the least, and they immediately fight; even that morrow after I desired them: in truth I cannot think they could have set so slight a value upon my words, neither do I think I can pardon them. I do believe Madam, replied Martesia, that there is some hidden cause in the business, which is not understood, and which perhaps, would justify them if you knew it: for certainly they are men of souls, and high judgement, and men also who much reverence you: But they have afforded me very ill testimonies of it, (replied the Princess very sharply) and I intent to let them see I am sensible of the injuries: But you are also sensible of their good deeds, and being so, what will become of all their brave services (replied Martesia.) But Martesia, I would fain know, (said the Princess to her) what I ought to think of the boldness of Artamenes and Philidaspes, and know which of them was the first Assaulter: The event of the Combat tells me that Artamenes had the better of it; but nothing tells me which of them was most culpable. I think Madam (replied Martesia, who was alone with her in her closet) that both of them may without in justice be blamed; for did you not entreat them both to love one another? Yes, replied the Princess, but though neither of them can be innocent, yet it is probable, they are not both of them equally culpable, and that is it which I would precisely know; not but that I think Artamenes is less in fault. And why Madam do you think so (answered Martesia) since you have no more proofs for the one than the other? I know not (replied the Princess) but I do more suspect the hasty violent humour of Philidaspes, has failed in his respects unto me, sooner than the wise temper of Artamenes: moreover, (added she) the victory which Artamenes got over him is an infallible mark of the justness of his cause: Indeed (said she blushing) though I cannot tell for what reasons, yet I cannot choose but wish Artamenes be found less culpable than Philidaspes; and I should be very glad that a man who has so much obliged should give me no cause of complaint. It is very true, (answered Martesia) that Artamenes is a man incomparable, and one whose merits does doubtless deserve a higher esteem than any other: But Madam (added she) what should be the reason that a man of such extraordinary virtues should conceal his Quality and place of birth? It is to be believed (said the Princess blushing) that his Quality is equal to his carriage, for if it were not, he would never conceal it: But (said Martesia) what brought him to this Court? and why stays he here? for I hear say he never asked any thing of the King. Never any thing, (answered the Princess) but only leave to fight against enemies: yet (said she) his services have not been small, nor all his actions meanly glorious, and here this great Princess began to repeat what my Master had done in the first Battle, when he preserved the King her father's life, out of the hands of his enemies who had environed him with danger: The prodigious advantages that he got above all others; The wonderful Combat, wherein he remained the only Conqueror of two hundred enemies: How he erected a glorious Trophy: The Combat which he had with Artanus: The taking of Cerasia: The Battles that he won against the King of Pontus: The remarkable Arms which he wore, to make himself better known unto those who conspired against his life: The poor simple Arms which he made choice of to conceal himself from those who had order to spare his life: His generous behaviour unto those valiant soldiers which would not yield their Bucklers, and of his rendering them their money again: And also all his other Gallantries, which she remembered as freshly and precisely, as if they were done but yesterday: and yet after all these (said she to Martesia) there appears not the least Ambition in his mind, and I neither know what brought him hither, what he stays for, nor what he aims at: not but that the King my father would do very much for him; but upon the whole matter, his services are infinitely above all recompenses; and this is the reason Martesia, why I wish him more innocent than Philidaspes. And although Philidaspes be a man of a high soul and excellent spirit, also in divers occasions hath done good service, yet there is a great difference between them: The turbulent humour of Philidaspes, does not please me; moreover, I think him more Ambitious, and fuller of self ends then Artamenes. After this manner, Sir, was the first discourse of him: Mean while, as the king did pardon these two illustrious Offenders, the Princess would not make her resentments of them to appear; so that she sent to know how they did. Philidaspes was a long time very ill, and his life in some doubt: but my Master's wounds were never in any danger: and within three weeks after the fight, he presented himself unto the King and Princess: to thank the first for his grace towards him, and the second for interceding in his behalf. She was then in her closet, and none but her women with her, so that as Artamenes did address himself to give her thanks, and acknowledge the favour; Think not (said she to him) though I did beg your pardon, that I myself in particular did consent unto it: no Artamenes (said she in a more imperious Tone) It is only the King hath pardoned you, but Mandana is yet displeased. If to die at your feet (answered Artamenes) would give you that satisfaction, I am most ready to do it. But Madam, what's the crime I have committed? How can that man, who does reverence you, with as much devotion as he does the Gods, possibly offend you? Pray tell me then (said she to him) whether it was not a neglect in your duty, to slight my request as you did, when I desired you to live peaceably with Philidaspes? But Madam, (said he) you also desired Philidaspes to live peaceably with Artamenes: 'Tis true,) said she) and I intent not to justify him by accusing of you: I would only know which of you is more or less culpable than the other: Indeed I know not that myself, (replied Artamenes and changing colour) the ground of our quarrel is so dubious, that we did not explain it one to another, nor perhaps ever shall. Did you know one another, (demanded the Princess) before you came hither? No Madam, (answered Artamenes) our acquaintance and our aversion began together, at this Court and almost at the very same minute: But Madam, it befits not me to ask what moved you to desire that I should love Philidaspes: It is the duty of Artamenes only to ask pardon for not obeying you. As I seldom use to make unjust requests (replied she) so I am not used to be denied: and I did not think that Artamenes, and Philidaspes would have been the first. My Master, seeing the Princess angry, was most extremely sensible of it: Ah Madam, (said he to her) if I had thought I could not revenge myself without incensing you, doubtless I had never done it: But Madam, is there no hope to obtain a pardon for that crime which was not voluntary? Is the Princess Mandana more inexorable than the Gods, who are indulgent to all repentant tears and prayers? The Princess who did really esteem Artamenes very much, and had already entertained some disposition to love him; she seeing him much troubled, was afraid lest her being more severe than Ciaxares, should offend him; so that, overruling her own self, she resolved to qualify him, and freely pardon him: Well Artamenes (said she to him) the inquietude of your own soul does sufficiently punish you; and I will inflict no other penance upon you, but that you do not any more expose yourself unto any more dangers. Ah Madam, said he to her, your goodness is divine in pardoning me; but it is very rigorous, that you should impose it upon me, to be indulgent unto him who opposeth himself against all my desires. I promise you, (said she to him) that if Philidaspes do prefer any thing unto the King, which may be prejudicial unto you, I will take your part against him. No Madam, (replied Artamenes) there is nothing I can crave of the King; I have received more from him than I can desire, and if Philidaspes do contend with me for nothing but recompenses, we shall never fall out again; and for what else, replied the Princess, can he dispute with you about? At these words, Artamenes being much plunged could not choose but blush, and looking most passionately upon the Princess, I think he would have discovered part of his deepest secrets unto her, if the King had not come into the Room: Mandana, who had a most admirable wit, and having exactly observed all the actions of Artamenes, took especial notice of his troubled soul, yet since the King was there, she could not possibly make any long reflection thereupon. Ciaxares, after much other discourse told her, how it was his absolute pleasure, that Artamenes and Philidaspes, should for the time to come live lovingly together; and to that end, he would have Artamenes accompany him in a walk which he intended to take; and that as they passed by the door of Philidaspes, they would in passing by visit him, because Aribeus desired as much, and then he would cause them to embrace each other: Artamenes would gladly have stayed behind; but Ciaxares observing his repugnancy, told him that Conquerors ought not to keep at such distances with their enemies conquered: moreover he would have the Princess take this walk and visit; she should be his Usher, and thereby make the business more handsome and advantageous for him: When the Princess saw the King's desire, she resisted not, and indeed she thought that she ought not to be any hindrance unto such an Accommodation. As for Artamenes, he seemed much vexed at it, and did obey with much ado; for, as he resented it, it was a very cross adventure to agree with Philidaspes, and go unto him, and also to be conducted thither by the Princess herself: yet since he saw there was no remedy, he resolved upon it. The King and the Princess took their Coaches, and went out of the Town, for Philidaspes was not yet returned into it, by reason of his hurts. After they had took the Air, and ended their walk, they came unto the place where he was: The King discoursed in a low voice privately with Mandana, at the foot of the stairs a long while: Mean time, my Master addressed himself unto Martesia, but so disturbedly, his mind and his countenance so altered, that he was scarce knowable. Martesia who perceived it, could not choose but chide him, telling him that his hatred was too violent, and that if he knew as well how to love as to hate, his friendship were the most excellent Jewel in the world: Doubt it not Martesia, said he, and if ever I love, I shall love more violently than I hate Philidaspes. You make me very inquisitive, said she to him in a low voice. And I extremely desire to know, whether or no you do love, and who it is you love: I cannot (replied he blushing) satisfy the half of your curiosity; it not being just that I should tell you that which I never told unto any, and perhaps never will: As they were thus discoursing, the King and the Princess ended theirs: And my Master was obliged, to present his hand unto the Princess, who easily had observed the turbulency in Artamenes mind. The King found Philidaspes that day in a good condition, but so surprised at the sight of Artamenes in his chamber, that his wounds began to open, and bleed afresh, at the sight of him who made them, such was the violent agitation of his resentments. Ciaxares, to prevent the like resentments in Artamenes, told him that he would have them embrace each other. The violent disposition of Philidaspes, upon this occasion, had much ado to contain itself: Yet seeing the King was peremptory and would have it so, and that the Princess complained of him, also all the Court being present, he recalled himself and obeyed. Mandana then causing Artamenes to come nearer, and telling him that it was the part of him who was most in health to come the greater part of the way, and indeed she did gently push him forward towards Philidaspes, who embracing him by force, told him, that Kings ought to be obeyed in their own Dominions. You have good reason for it, answered my Master; and upon the same ground I do as the King and the Princess commands me. Whosoever Sir, did well observe the motions of these two gallant strangers, might easily discover, that there was some great secret which did lie at the heart, but none could know what it was. This visit lasted not long, but whilst it continued, Artamenes was always looking upon Mandana, or else upon Philidaspes, who for his part was so quashed that he almost looked upon no body. The King being retired, and the Princess following, both returned to the Palace, where Mandana was no sooner arrived, but she had no disposition to see any one: As for Artamenes, he stayed yet with the King, but with so much restlessness, that he could not stay there long, therefore he also returned unto his Chamber. He was no sooner there, but ruminating upon all the past passages, he thought it no displeasure, since he could pick some comfort out of it. Why said he sighing, must it not be permitted me to hate my enemy? will Mandana eternally contradict all my inclinations? What hidden interest can she have in this design, which must oblige me to love Philidaspes, and Philidaspes to love me? Is it only a bare design to preserve the lives of two men whom she thinks are not unprofitable unto the service of the King her father? or else because having some particular esteem of Philidaspes, she would take off from him an enemy; who by all treatable means would not be reconciled? and under pretence of treating us equally, she has some unequal biased thoughts of us: But alas, (said he) why should I be so unjust, as to interpret the actions and words of my Princess in such a sense? she who ever did treat me well? what can I in reason complain of? Can Artamenes, as Artamenes ask any thing of the Princess of Cappadocia, which he has not already obtained? She has highly commended me; she has treated me with all civility; she freely honours me with her discourse without disdain; she has offered to be his Advocate unto the King; she has taken care of his life; when he offended, she procured his pardon, and indeed, there is nothing which the illustrious Mandana does not do for Artamenes; But alas, although Artamenes be contented as Artamenes, yet Cyrus is nothing satisfied as Cyrus: This Artamenes, said he, whom the Princess thus favours, is not he whom I wish she would favour: Artamenes seems to affect nothing but war; he aims all at honour and glory, but he whom I would have her know and favour loves nothing but Mandana, and seeks for nothing but her affection. Sir, (said I to him, for I was close by him when he thus discoursed with himself aloud and all alone) How can this amorous Artamenes be in any hopes to be favoured as you desire, if Madana do not know him? Would you Sir have the most virtuous and glorious Princess of the world to love you, before she knows so much as that you love her? And would you, replied Artamenes, have this most glorious and virtuous Princess endure that I only as Artamenes should speak unto her upon terms of love? No Sir, (said I) but Artamenes is Cyrus: This is reason (replied he) but is there not as much danger in appearing Cyrus, as Artamenes? As Artamenes, she will perhaps only put me off with a little pity, but as Cyrus she will punish me with hatred and anger: But however, answered I, if you will ever be beloved, you must some way or other let her know you love her, otherwise you will never bring it to pass; Though you should gain a hundred Battles, and Conquer as many Kingdoms and Empires, after all your Victories and Conquests you will never triumph in the heart of Mandana, unless you make Mandana know that she triumphs in yours. Love Sir, can never be gotten without love: The Princess will commend you; she will esteem you, but never love you: for indeed Sir, all your great acts which you have performed, relates only unto yourself; the Conquest of your own heart is that which belongs to her, and which will only please her: If you desire that your Victories should become serviceable unto you, let her know that she hath vanquished the Conqueror of them all: and that he whom none could resist, is captivated by her charms and beauty. But Teraulas (said he to me) how dare I speak to her of it? and how can I choose but be affrighted at the anger of a Lady whose modesty is extreme? and whose virtue is severe even to the very height of rigour? I do not say Sir, replied I, that it is convenient to speak unto the Princess downright and openly of love; but only to give her such an easy taste as that she may guess at the rest: But if in guessing at it (replied he) she should chance to hate me, what would then become of me? Fear it not (replied I) and know Sir for certain, that love was never the cause of hatred: Mandana may perhaps command you to be silent; and perhaps she may reject you, but she cannot hate you for loving her: The manner, Sir, of making her to understand it may indeed be something dangerous; and therefore in discovering your love unto her, you must not hint a word of your being beloved: you must not ask any thing; nor hope nor pretend unto the least favour; only comfort yourself in making your disease known unto her who is the cause of it; and as long as you carry it only so Sir, believe me, it is hard for her to hate you, let her virtue be never so severe: Indeed, said I, as long as Mandana does not know you love her, it is a question whether ever she will love you; yet on the contrary, if you let her guess at your passion, perhaps in spite of all her rigour she will love you: But Teraulas, said he to me, what if she should banish me? No, no, (said I to him) never fear any such rough treatment: So many great actions as you have done, will plead unto her in your behalf, so that she cannot be so inhuman, and if I be not extremely deceived, the business will work better than you imagine. So Sir after this manner, a good part of the night was spent in reasoning upon the matter between Artamenes and me: Artamenes resolved to find some fit opportunity, of making his passion known unto the Princess, without any point-blank expressions of it: But alas, whilst we were hamering out this resolution, Mandana took a quite contrary course to our expectations, and defeated our plot. I told you Sir, how she retired into her melancholy closet, whither she was no sooner entered, but she called for her confident Martesia, and asked her what Artamenes said unto her, whilst she was speaking with the King her father in the entrance into Philidaspes his house? for she had an eye upon them when they discoursed: This Lady was obedient, and told her word for word all the discourse; and adding her own thoughts unto those of my master; for my part Madam (said she to the Princess) considering the manner how Artamenes answered me, when I desired to know whether or no he was in love, and whom he loved; I do verily think he is in love: Mandana blushed at the word, for she herself began already to suspect some such thing: But she being desirous to pump the thoughts of Martesia without discovering her own: With whom (asked she) do you think it is that he is in love, with me? Madam (answered Martesia) I have thought so ever since; though my own reason could not absolutely consent unto it: For truly, Artamenes visits not any solicitously, he does not so much as speak unto any of my companions, but only as far as common civility requires: he passes away all the day with the King or you; and if Artamenes were of any other quality than he is, he might easily be supposed to be in love. For Madam (said she to her, quaking a little) Artamenes looks upon none but you, nor speaks unto any else; he commends you, he esteems you, and it may almost be directly said he adores you. He follows you to the Temple; he walks, he hunts with you, and waits upon you to all public feasts: when the King your Father comes to you, he is sure to come with him; and though the King comes not, yet he never fails: He blushes as oft as he comes near you, or when you are alone where he is; Indeed said she laughing, If Artamenes were a King, or the Princess Mandana, Martesia, I should believe he were in love with her: I think (said the Princess, interrupting her) that Artamenes has done you some ill office or other, for if you should persuade me of the truth of what you tell me, you may well conceive he can never be happy, nor could you ever find out a worse way to be revenged of him. I should be very sorry Madam, (replied Martesia assuming a more serious look) to be a cause of any ill unto Artamenes; But as your interests are more dear unto me Madam, then his; I thought it my duty to tell you, that I knew not whether it were not worth your pains Madam, to observe his actions, some certain days, that my doubts might be made more clear unto you. The Princess blushed at this discourse more than she did before; and lessening her voice as if she were afraid, that Martesia unto whom she spoke should hear her; As you are wise and discreet (said she to her) I confess that since this morning, I have had some suspicion of what you say, and I am possessed with such confused thoughts, lest Artamenes should discover any of his folly, as I cannot express myself; for truly in one minute I have observed a hundred things which before I took no notice of; or to express myself better, I look upon them after another manner than I did before. Do you Remember Martesia, the first day he saw me, after he had saved the life of the King my father? Did you not then think that he looked upon me with an extraordinary observant eye, and full of passion, how also he did not so much as look upon any one of those beauty's which were then in my company? have you not forgot, after what a fashion he desired me to obtain permission from the King, to fight with his enemies, and after what a manner he took his leave of me? Did you not further observe him when I desired him not to wear those remarkable Arms? Did you not see, I say, after what kind of odd manner he denied me? and with what an amiable air he asked the scarf which I refused? in what terms he did interpret it, when I told him, I wished Artamenes would neither be too prudent, nor too rash? It is not possible Madam (said he to me) that I can regulate my thoughts, according to that Madam which you desire. Do you not remember also since the day that Philidaspes and he, came together to bid me adieu? For my part I do now admire that I should at that time interpret the inquietudes which I then saw in his face no better: Do you not yet further remember the joy which appeared in the eyes Artamenes at his return? and also that converse which I had with him and Philidaspes? But above all the rest, (said she) do you remember what were the resentments of Artamenes when I would have obliged him to love Philidaspes? For my part (said Martesia, interrupting her) I think Madam, by all which you have remembered, and by a thousand other trivial passages, which I have particularly observed, and which you could not see, that Artamenes is not only in love, but that he is also jealous of Philidaspes; and that perhaps, Philidaspes is in love with you as well as Artamenes. You are not too wise (said the Princess to her) to let me hear of too many injuries at once: No Martesia, no, Philidaspes is only ambitious, and for my own quiets sake I would not suspect him of any other humour; That would be too many crimes to punish, especially for one who loves not to inflict any punishments at all; therefore let us not think upon any but Artamenes: But for that (said she) some handsome order must be taken; and if it be possible, I must prevent receiving such a sensible displeasure, for indeed I do esteem Artamenes very much; I have many obligations upon me to him, and I should be very sorry to be put unto any necessity of treating him ill: Therefore Martesia, I command you to be continually near me, and cause all the rest of your companions to be so also; and leave me not alone at any time; It cannot now be long before he depart, and the time of drawing into the field comes one, therefore this constraint will not Continue long. After this she dismissed Martesia, and remained alone in her closet; But oh heavens, what vexing and tyrannical thoughts did toss her mind? that smooth tranquillity which heretofore was regent in her mind, did now no more visit her turbulent soul; yet she continued in that resolution which she fixed upon with Martesia. You may judge then Sir, how difficult it was for Artamenes to execute his design of discovering his passion unto the Princess, since she had obstructed all those ways which formerly were wont to be open. For three weeks together, it was carried so handsomely, that he did not think Mandana to be at all accessary to it; he rather thought it to be unlucky chance which caused it: yet as oft as he bethought himself of how many favourable opportunities he had let slip, maugre the assiduity of Philidaspes, he was almost in absolute despair; But when he bethought himself again, how that it was not now Philidaspes who prevented the execution of his design resolved upon, he thought it then only the malignity of his destiny: But so it was, that he was not long without this obstacle also; for within twenty days after, the King and the princess did visit Philidaspes; he came to present his thanks, and to take up the same room about Mandana as he was accustomed before; therefore Martesia was not so much necessitated to attendance; and now Artamenes did quite despair of ever getting an occasion to discourse particularly with his princess. There passed many general discourses, wherein Mandana did let Artamenes know, how dangerous a design his was to talk of any love; for though it was but in speeches by the by, addressed unto another, yet she so explained her thoughts, as he could not choose but think, they related unto him, considering the method and decorum of her words, and therefore he concluded, that to discover his passion unto the Princess were to expose himself unto danger: The difficulty which he resented, and had not foreseen, caused in him most sensible sorrow; and it night well be said, though his tongue was tied, and did not speak of any love unto the Princess, yet all his actions spoke plainly for him; so that as I knew since by Martesia; his dumb eloquence was well understood: and the Princess did interpret his perplexities, his melancholy, his impatience, the alteration in his countenance, and his muse, as they ought to be; so that she doubted not at all but Artamenes was passionately in love with her. Here Sir, may be admired, how fallible is all humane prudence; for if my Master had then spoke unto the Princess of any love, considering how things then stood, he had irrecoverably been undone; for than she would have ever treated him but badly; and doubtless would have for ever banished him from her; notwithstanding all the esteem she had of him, and notwithstanding all the great services he had done unto the King her father: But because he spoke not a word of it unto her, yet patiently endured and still had her in amorous reverence, the Princess had pity of him, and whether she would or no, did entertain into her heart, such a tenderness of him, as might perhaps be phrased love; not that this virtuous Princess did think it so, for if she, doubtless she had surmounted herself whatsosoever came of it: nor that she did with any heed observe herself; but because love carries with it such a blinding quality, as that the clearest judgements cannot look about them, and which hinders them who are possessed with it both from knowing others and themselves also: Sometimes she would ask herself many odd questions, which she herself could not precisely answer: she would oftentimes wonder, that Artamenes whether she would or not should come into her thoughts; and why since she knew of his love, she should not be more angry: Why (said she unto herself) should I permit a man who comes into the Court but as a common ordinary Cavalier to love me, and I endure his sight and company? Ah no, no Mandana, this strict severe virtue, whereof you make profession, must not endure it; And though 'tis true, that love can never be without hope, yet it befits me to punish Artamenes for his rashness and folly, for what can he ever hope for, without a wrong unto me? what can he desire without extravagancy? and what can he ask me, without offence? But alas, said she, he has told me nothing that does anger me, nor indeed aught to anger me: he asks me nothing which can displease me; I owe unto him the life of the King my father; and the King owes many victories unto him; and perhaps I owe unto him, the joy of my days, since it is to be believed, that the King of Pontus would have been victorious but for him; and then, I should either have been his wife or his prisoner; Let me not therefore hate Artamenes because he loves me; and since he speaks nothing to me of his love, let not me speak any thing unto him of my anger. Alas (said she sometimes unto Martesia) why should Artamenes have any such thoughts in his mind? why does he not keep within the limits of a good esteem? For my part Madam, (said Martesia to her) I think you know not well what you say; nor I cannot imagine what kind of virtue that is, which takes up your soul, and had rather that Artamenes should not love you at all, then that he should love you as he does, as long as he does not speak of it unto you. You put me very much to it Martesia, (replied the Princess) yet notwithstanding I will tell you, that I do so much esteem Artamenes, as in consideration of himself I ought always for his own tranquilities sake, to wish that he were not in love with me: I know indeed Madam, (replied Martesia) that in consideration of himself, you ought to wish his tranquillity, but I know also very well, that in consideration of yourself, the same is in some sort advantageous to you, to see the Gallantest man of the world, and the most accomplished in all things, to esteem and love you, even to the height of adoration. I doubt not (replied Mandana) it is honourable unto me, and I must tell you, that honour is it which I prefer before all the earth; But Martesia I would have him keep within the limits of esteem, and observe such a friendship, as a man of his condition ought to keep unto one of mine; Tell me Madam, I conjure you (said Martesia) whether it would please you, that Artamenes, who loves you so well, should love any other better than he does you? Indeed you put me into a Dilemma (replied the Princess;) But I always thought, that though Artamenes esteemed me more than any in the world, yet I would not care if he did love me a little less. Ha Madam, (replied Martesia) you abuse yourself, and one cannot have that indifferency to the affection of those whose esteem they desire: Indeed Madam, it would be a great wrong unto you, that he, who of all men in the world, has most spirit and judgement, should not esteem you most of all the earth. Pray Madam, what does the illustrious Artamenes want? A Crown (replied the Princess blushing) and let that suffice Martesia, to make me fear the passion of any man who is not a King, and to hold all his future actions in suspicion, and indeed to make me more than myself: For truly (said she) I have an enemy, which holds secret intelligence in my heart, and bids me love him, if one invincible Remora were removed; which doubtless does forbid me Artamenes and all his high accomplishments, and causes me, maugre his love, his merit, and my own resentments, to keep my own liberty entire. Thus Sir, was the state of things at that time: Artamenes was deep in love, and durst not tell: Philidaspes was no less amorous, nor less close, being for divers reasons engaged to disguise his thoughts: Ciaxares loved them both, but Artamenes incomparably more than Philidaspes: And Mandana, though she knew it not, did doubtless love my Master a little, and esteem Philidaspes, although his humorous disposition did much lessen it. At this time the Son unto the King of Armenia, called Tygranes, came to the Court of Cappadocia: A great league of friendship sprung between him and Artamenes. Me an time, the spring approaching, certain intelligence was brought, that the confederate Kings had already drawn their Armies into the field: This news hasted on all the new levies, and all requisite orders were given to prepare all things in a readiness to receive the enemy in a short time: One Brigade of the Army was already in the plain of Ceracia, yet in all likelihood, it was not in any condition to resist the King of Pontus, and the King of Phrygia, although they were advantageously entrenched. Now see, Artamenes constrained to depart, and to depart without power to reveal that he loved; this was no small disgust unto him: He went in all haste to take leave of the Princess, because second intelligence came which assured Ciaxares that this Army was ready to be shut up, between the King of Pontus' forces, and a puissant Recruite come out of Phrygia in a few days; so that my Master, not having time to stay a minute, lest he should come too late, was forced to depart abruptly, and to lock up all his passion in his heart; yet for all that it appeared plain enough in his eyes, and he signified it sufficiently unto the Princess by his sorrows. Go Artamenes (said she to him, in bidding him adieu) and be as happy as you have been; if you will oblige the King my father, have not a greater care to vanquish his enemies, then to preserve your own life. Mandana spoke this before all the people, so that Artamenes durst return her no other answer, then as all the rest there did; that was, with much reverence and acknowledgement: then he left her, without any further explaining himself, then by stolen looks, and restrained sighs, half cut off in the middle, as soon as they were breathed: As for Philidaspes, his turn was not yet to go, for he was to command those troops which were not yet in readiness: But my Master went, and was followed by all the young Gallantry of the Court, who upon this occasion, which in all appearances was like to be full of danger, did set out themselves in the bravest Equipage; The Prince Tigranes would needs be one, and ranked himself amongst the Volunteers of whom he was chief: We made all possible haste, but since Artamenes was not throughly informed concerning the enemies, and how they lay, when we came within fifty furlongs of the Plain of Ceracia, he sent out Chrisantes with a Party of ten or twelve only, to inquire of news, and to know whether all the Passes were open or shut, and whether the Army was enclosed between the King of Pontus, and those Auxiliaries from Phrygia: Mean time, he made a halt, at a small uninhabited village, where they might defend themselves, in case the enemy's Scouts came upon them: We found hid, amongst the old ruins of the Town some poor Peasants, who told us for certain, that the Confederated Kings had two mighty Armies, and that if our Army were not hemmed in, it would be presently. Artamenes, finding the state of the war, to stand upon as bad terms as the state of his love, was vexed beyond all expression. He could not endure to hear that those enemies which he had formerly conquered, should now be in a likely condition to Conquer. He absolutely resolved to die a thousand deaths, rather than to survive a defeat. No, no (said he in himself) I cannot ever look the Princess in her fair face after a beating; and if ill fortune will needs have it so, that I must be beaten, then there is no way but to prepare for death: I (I say) who after all my great Victories, durst never approach her presence but with trembling; nor ever had so much confidence, after I had conquered Kings, to let her know I was her slave: But (oh heavens) must I die, and Mandana not know that I die for her? And can I not have so much sad consolation, as to hope, that she shall not be ignorant of all those torments that I have endured since the first time I saw her? Perhaps when she understands my love, by hearing of my death, that the knowledge of it will not then incense her soul, and easily pardon a man, who in losing his life did not lose his devotions to her; Let me tell her then by my death, that I lived not but for her: And to lessen my crime, let me acquaint her with my condition, though not absolutely to know who I am; It will be enough she know that Artamenes is of a Royal extract, without knowing that Cyrus and Artamenes are the same; Let me not be myself the obstacle which shall hinder her from that compassion which I expect from her goodness, nor stop those tears which I hope will flow from the tenderness of her heart: I know well enough (said he) that the delights of the grave are least sensible, but however, if I lose the Battle and my life, I shall more delightingly lose them both, by virtue of this hope, and I shall murmur less at the rigour of my Destiny. This thought Sir, did so flatter his despair, that presently he set himself to write unto the Princess, and to discover that unto her which he had so long, so carefully concealed. After he had writ, and read, and overread the Letter, he sealed it, and calling me in private, Teraulas (said he to me) you must do me a piece of very important service, and do it with all possible exactness. Sir, said I to him, I should esteem myself very happy, if I could find that which I have so long looked for, and would gladly make you know my zeal unto your service: You may doubtless (said he) but I fear that the courage of Teraulas will fail and deny me, and I shall have much ado to persuade him, not to fight at this time. I confess Sir, (said I to him) I cannot easily conceive, what it is you would command me; and it is a hard task for me, not to partake of that danger unto which you expose yourself: Yet it must be so, (said he to me) consider me either as your Master, your Prince, or your Friend, and deny me no more; you know (said he with abundance of sweetness) that I am well acquainted with the courageous heart of Teraulas, and I need no more testimonies of his valour; therefore let not that trouble you, and believe it, you can never in all your life so much oblige me, as you may at this time: Though indeed I might perhaps command you to do what I desire, yet upon this occasion I will earnestly entreat you. At these words, I was not able to endure any longer; Sir, (said I to him) you make me wonder extremely, therefore I beseech you defer no longer, but tell me presently what I must do, that I may as presently obey you. You must not fight at all my dear Teraulas, (said he) but always keep in that Quarter which is freest from any danger, and there expect the event of the fight, which we intent shall be presently: If so it chance, that I fall, and die, as certainly I will, if I be vanquished, then go you in all haste, and carry this Letter unto Mandana; and let her say what she will, tell her not that I am Cyrus; you may declare my Quality, but not directly the place of my birth; This is all, my dear Teraalas, that I would have you do, and fail me not I conjure you; be as faithful to me in this business as ever you have wont to be. Sir, (said I to him) with tears in eyes, this is most cruel, that I should receive a command, which I must not execute until after you death 〈…〉 But I hope Sir, Fortune will ordain it otherwise, I wish it may (answered he) but it is not likely: Yet however do not you fail in that which I desire you, said he embracing him, and testify unto me, that there is no service so difficult, which you will not perform for me: I promised him Sin, to do all I could, and how could I deny a Prince that was extremely troubled, and in love, and also staggering in his resolutions? Presently after, Chrisantes returned, and brought two prisoners with him which he had taken, and who told Artamenes that the King of Phrygia's Army would not come up until the next day; and that the King of Pontus' Army, in which was the King of Phrygia himself, would decline fight until the other Army was joined with it, and then they would infallibly surround the Cappadocean Army, and between them both, him it in: Artamenes was very glad of the news; and to understand from Chrisantes, how he had discovered a Pass which the enemies did not guard, where he might easily convey his men. Chrisantes had no sooner brought this intelligence, but we immediately took horse, and marched with so much haste, and so happily, that night favouring our design, and concealing our motion, we came unto the Camp undiscovered or meeting any. I will not stand to tell you Sir, how great was the joy of all the Officers and Soldiers when they saw Artamenes; him whom they looked upon as a God, and believed invincible: As soon as he arrived he took a view of the Army, which he found not to exceed the number of sixteen thousand men: so that though indeed these Troops were the best of all Cappadocia, yet Artamenes thought himself very hard put to it. For the King of Pontus' Army which had quitted their trenches and Garrisons, and whose vanguard was within sight of my Master's Army, consisted of twenty thousand men, and those which were to join with them, were fifteen thousand men effectual. Finding himself then brought unto this extremity, and supposing that his enemy would force him to fight, before Ciaxares could be advertized of it, he resolved upon as bold an enterprise as ever any did. Besides those reasons which I have already related, he had one more, which in my opinion was of no small consideration: He knew that Philidaspes, would exasperate the King to make all haste, and would come with all those Regiments which were ready to march, but Artamenes would not suffer him to have so much advantage as to engage himself in so great a danger. After serious consideration of the business, he called a Council of War: But the opinion of Artamenes was always the resolution of every one, and how hard and difficult soever, it found no contradiction: He told all the Commanders, that if they were once surrounded by the King of Pontus, and the King of Phrygia's Armies, there would be no safety for them, but if possible they must fight them severally: That if they should fall upon the King of Pontus' Army first, it was to be feared that the enemy would decline it, and delay until the Phrygian Army came up, whilst we were busied with them, and so infallibly defeat us: That if we should stay still in our Trenches, and rely upon Relief, doubtless they would be forced out before Ciaxares could come to them: so that considering the state of all things, the best course was to fall upon the Phrygian Army, unperceived by the King of Pontus; and that to be effected according as he had already contrived: That our Army being more in number then theirs, and theirs tired out with a tedious march, they might easily be defeated: after which, perhaps we should be upon even terms to fight the King of Pontus; So Sir, all that Artamenes propounded, was approved of and followed: He sent out a Party to stop that Pass, where the Phrygian Army was to march: And being certainly informed that this very night they would encamp some thirty furlongs off; as soon as night came on, he and his Army began to march silently, without either Trumpet, Drum, or any noise; and left in his own Camp, only a small guard, some hangers on, and such as could not fight, commanding them that as soon as he was a pretty way off, they should kindle many fires, thereby to deceive the enemy, and take away all suspicion of his enterprise, from the King of Pontus. I stayed Sir, in the Camp against my will, with an absolute command from Artamenes, that if I saw him not return the next morning, then to go presently unto Sinope, and acquit myself of my charge: Not Sir, that you should think, a Camp wherein almost none were, was a place of any security; but because Artamenes had hopes his design would succeed, but if it did not, than I might more easily and safely retire, as soon as I heard of his death: Yet Sir, though I went not with my master, I knew all the passages of this dangerous adventure: But not to forget any thing which I saw, let me tell you how Artamenes before his departure did encourage his Officers and Soldiers; how he embraced them, flattered them, commended them, and promised mighty matters to them.  
Now is the time, my dear Companions (said he to them) when I must remember you of your Ancient virtues, and bid you fight with as much fury, as if all the world were spectators of your actions: I cannot now look upon your valours, neither will this dark night let me show you what you should do by my own example: I cannot exasperate you by my voice, since our design is to surprise an enemy in the obscurity of night▪ and vanquish them before they awake: yourselves must be the only witnesses of your own valours and fidelity. Never think that darkness can cover either our valour or our cowardice: It will be known do what we can: The victory of our enemies, if they do get it, will testify what you do. And on the contrary, when I see your hands full of bloody spoils of dead Phrygians to morrow at the break of day, and all their Ensigns broken, then shall I testify on your behalves what you have done: These are the signs, my friends, which must speak your actions; and these are the marks by which you shall know my own valour.  
After these words, all the Commanders and Soldiers did lift up their spears and swords to testify their approbation, and by a silent kind of confused noise, did assure my master that they would punctually obey him. Then they began to march with all alacrity and speed; and after he had put about him a white scarf to be known by in the dark of night, they went upon this expedition, without any other arms than spears and swords, because bows and arrows were useless in the dark of night. Artamenes was so fortunate as to find his enemies fast asleep, which did not a little facilitate his enterprise: Since they knew the King of Pontus' army did wait upon ours, they could not dream how it was possible they should be surprised; So that they slept securely without any fear of Quarters being beaten up: Their first Guard did not fail in their duty; but it was so quickly repelled, that before the soldiers were awake, or could rank themselves under their Colours, or get into any posture of defence, they were many of them killed. He who commanded these forces, was called Imbas, and was very valiant; he made it appear upon this occasion that he was so, since notwithstanding this surprise and disorder of his Army, he had rallied a very considerable body together, and did so gallantly entertain Artamenes, that for a while he was in hopes of victory. The like was never heard of, as those who were in the combat did report; for after the first shock was over, wherein Artamenes had commanded all silence to be observed, he began to make himself known by his voice, to the end he might encourage his men; and as all did answer him in a Triumphant and mortal language, they made so great and terrible a din; that the enemy thought themselves very ill informed, and guessed us to be at least thirty thousand men. The night, though dark, because there was no Moon, yet not so obscure by reason of a starry firmament, but one might perceive another: And in this gloomy light, Artamenes failed not to keep good order in that combat which was so full of confusion and disorder. As he found that there was yet a good close body to contend with, and which stoutly resisted him, he doubted whether Imbas whom he knew to be a man of courage, and commanded this Army, could be found or no; but since he could not directly see how to assault him, he bethought himself of a project which took effect: He spoke as loud as ever he could, these words; If the valiant Imbas would be victorious, why does he not come out and fight with Artamenes, and dispute with him for the victory in person? This language caused Imbas to come unto him with a drawn sword; I did not think (said he) I had such an illustrious enemy so near me, nor so lawful an excuse for my defeat if it chance; at these words they fell to work, and fought, and often charged that none should part them; but in conclusion, my master being stronger, and more fortunate, he struck the sword of Imbas out of his hand, and seizing upon his bridle, threatened to kill him if he did not render himself: Imbas being in that condition, without more ado rendered himself; and Artamenes committing him to the guard of four soldiers, went to consummate the conquest which yet remained: The Cavalry of Artamenes trod the Phrygian Infantry under their horses feet; And almost all the Cappadocian Infantry were become Cavalry; for in the disorder, as the Phrygians were taking horse, our men killed them, and got into their saddles, riding their horses against their master's friends; some exchanged their natural sleep for an eternal nap: others half armed, defended themselves as well as they could; some again, took the advantage of the night's obscurity and fled for shame; others without any arms did obstinately dispute for their lives, and all in general was in a mighty confusion. In conclusion, Sir, after two hours' dispute Artamenes found none to fight with; and sounding a Retreat, every one repaired to his Colours, and altogether returned to the Camp. This enterprise was so judiciously contrived, and so happily executed, that at break of day I saw Artamenes return in the head of his Troops; who calling unto those who guarded his prisoner, suffered him to march by him: My master held a sword in his hand which he had forced from one of his enemies, and Imbas who knew it, assured him that it was the sword of his Lieutenant General: Never was beheld a more magnificent triumph then this; there was not a Captain nor Soldier which had not some Trophy of Victory in his hand: Some had Phrygian bucklers; others suits of bloody arms; some ensigns half broken; others whole bundles of spears upon their shoulders: Some had the heads of dead soldiers which they carried by the hair, and a great number brought chained prisoners. The Prince Tigranes had two ensigns of his enemies which he had forced from them; and there was not one but could show an assured mark that he was in combat: when Artamenes saw them all, he was extremely joyed, ●e commended and cherished them; and to make his word good, he showed them the General of their enemies which he had taken prisoner; also the sword of their Lieutenant General which he had forced from him. Artamenes was thus in his Triumphant conceits, when news was brought, that there appeared about fifty men on horses, from Sinope side: he sent out a party to discover who they were; but it was found to be Philidaspes, who being envious at Artamenes honour, was come from Court without leave; and could not endure that his Rival should be in any dangerous adventure wherein he was not: yet I think, Sir, that he repented himself of his forwardness, when he understood that he was not to have any share in that victory which was got without him. He came unto Artamenes when all the Commanders and Soldiers held their gallant Trophies in their hands, and when he knew how squares went by that Party which was sent out to meet him, he had a mind to go no further; yet civility would not permit him to return: My master no sooner saw him but he was troubled; yet notwithstanding, there was never man more sweet, and civil after a Victory, than he, and he went to meet him: Judge Philidaspes (said he to him) what we should have done if you had been with us, seeing we have done thus much in your absence: I know not (answered he) whether I should have been partaker of your glory, but I am sure I should have been a partaker of your peril: There is enough of that yet (replied Artamenes) since we have yet an Army of twenty thousand men before us to fight with: The first victory you have got, (answered Philidaspes) is it not a certain omen or a second, and perhaps in participating of the peril with you, I shall be no partaker of the glory? we shall presently see that (answered Artamenes) for I do not think it good to 〈◊〉 our enemy fortify himself before we fight him. We must make the best benefit we can 〈◊〉 those favours which fortune affords us; she is a capricious Lady and would not be slighted, and sometimes withdraws her favours for ever, if they be not taken when she presents them; you are better acquainted with her than I am, (answered Philidaspes) who never yet received any good from her: Let us see (replied Artamenes who was a little nettled at this discourse) whether the good or the bad which I have received, hath brought me to that acquaintance: After this, turning towards the Commanders and Soldiers, and speaking unto them with so much boldness, and such pleasant eyes, as seemed a happy presage.  
Certainly (said he to them) my brave Companions, Conquerors are never weary: Tell me, were ye not more weary before, then since you have vanquished your enemies? But my dear companions, let us not deceive ourselves, for we have yet only begun to Conquer, and we must second that good beginning, as long as there is any to oppose us: Let not the number of your enemies affright you, for I can assure you, that we are more terrible to them then they ought to be unto us: It being a more difficult task to fight with soldiers accustomed to Conquer, then with those that never fought. The noise of our Victory has animated our Army, and fainted the hearts of our enemies: Fear and Terror has half defeated them before we come at them; and if my conjectures do not much deceive me, this second Victory will come at as easy a rate as the first: The presence of the valiant Philidaspes will render it more facile; and fortune which always favours bold and dangerous enterprises, will not forsake us in this. Come on my brave Companions, let us go, for if you love difficulties, you will never be without honour; and if you expose yourselves to ease, you will never be in safety, but put your enemies into a condition to be always as thorns in your sides.  
As soon as Artamenes had ended his Oration, all the Officers and Soldiers did applaud the resolution he had taken: In pursuance whereof, he took a Muster of his Army, to see how many he had lost; and he found wanting only five hundred men, though he had defeated sixteen thousand: After this he commanded them all to take a little repose, and within two hours after to prepare for Combat: Mean while he treated Philidaspes with all civility: But as he would have the reports of this first victory animate his Army, and be a foundation for a second; he sent back to the King of Phrygia, Imbas his Lieutenant General whom he had defeated, and took prisoner, as I formerly told you; commanding the Herald which was to conduct him to tell that Prince, how gallantly this valiant man had defended himself; and had given such testimony of a noble soul during his disgrace, that he would not do him the displeasure to keep him Prisoner during the Battle; nor deprive himself of that honour to vanquish him the second time, if good fortune failed not: Philidaspes hearing him say so, could not forbear contradicting him, and told him, that this man might be made use of after the Battle, if the success should not be fortunate: If we be overcome (replied Artamenes) we shall have no use of prisoners, since than we shall be either dead or prisoners ourselves, and those whom we have already taken, will then be released in spite of our teeth: And if we be Conquerors (said he) than all will be in our own power: But it must be acknowledged (replied Philidaspes) that you have given a valiant man unto your enemies: 'Tis true, replied Artamenes, but in giving that one we have released many which otherwise should have guarded him: yet so it was Sir, that my master did what he pleased, and Philidaspes was silent: Mean while the King of Pontus and the King of Phrygia were extremely surprised, when at break of day they were advertised in their Tents of the great shouts of joy which were heard in Artamenes his Army, and that many Phrygian Ensigns were seen there. These Princes having seen the fires in the camps of their enemies all the night long could not imagine how it was possible, they should fight and defeat the forces which they expected: Neither could they believe that Imbas would betray his King & country, and take part with the Cappadocians. So that in their incertainties they neither knew what to think or say: All the Captains and Soldiers were no less troubled: and all together concluded that things went not well: But as they were sending out to know what the matter was, they saw Imbas arrive, who being moved by his own generosity and intending to excuse his defeat by the valour of his enemies, did so much extol their courage, and magnified Artamenes so highly, that he struck terror into the souls of all who heard him: you have said enough, (answered the King of Pontus) to take away the dishonour of your defeat, in saying it was Artamenes who overcame you: And it is enough (said the King of Phrygia) to oblige us not to fly such an enemy, who if we be vanquished by him it is no dishonour: Tell then Artamenes (said the King of Phrygia unto the Herald) that we will prepare to receive him as he deserves, and if we can, render him favour for favour, and endeavour to be in that condition as at our return we shall send him prisoners after the Battle. Mean while, Artamenes was resolved to finish this war at this bout, and neglected nothing which might Conduce to his happiness, he met not a captain unto whom he did not promise some recompense from the King: He never saw a common on soldier pass by, whom he did not call by his name; and unto whom he did not bestow some obliging language: He did inspire into them all both by his words and by his actions, such an ardent desire of glory, that he was hard able to restrain them, such was his powerful art to invite men's hearts, and make himself absolute master of their minds. After then all the Troops had solaced themselves with a slight repast, and offered a sacrifice unto the Gods, in the head of their Army: Artamenes marched strait to the enemy in Battalia, with Prince Tigranes and Philidaspes who would not leave him, to the end that Artamenes should do nothing which he did not do as well as he. I Confess Sir, that when I saw things in that condition; I could not resolve any longer obedience unto the command of Artamenes, but I put in amongst this young gallantry of the court, which made up a Troop of Volunteers, and followed my master. But yet I know not how he got a sight of me, and as soon as he spied me, he made a sign with his hand; then I quit my rank; and as he came forward to me some fifteen or twenty paces, Sir (said I coming to him) I beseech you give me leave to fight: No no (answered he) I will not; and your disobedience has angered me: I have done Sir, (said I) since you will not permit it, and I will retire myself. However Teraulas (said he) if I die at this time, you may assure the Princess that the day of my death was a bloody day unto my enemies, & that in one day I was both Conqueror & conquered, after these words my dear & best master, commanded me aloud to observe his orders, to the end that none should think worse of my Courage and my retreat, which otherwise might have been blemished: After this I left him, and he marched to wards the Enemy, who did prepare to receive him. They endeavoured to persuade their Soldiers, that the former defeat of their Troops would be advantageous to them, since they had so wearied their Enemies as they must needs be weak; yet for all that, say what they could, the very name of Artamenes, did more daunt them, than all the good language of the Princes could encourage them: Mean while, both armies seemed to be inspired with the same spirit and the same fury they both advanced, & join; the Air is obscured with Arrows: the breaking of which, as they met, and clashed one against another, added a terrible noise to the martial harmony: These first blows on both sides, did redouble their ardent desires of vanquishing in the hearts of both parties: After they had emptied their Quivers, Bows were useless, and they draw nearer; those whose arms were spears did push them with furious violence: swords followed presently after; And both sides coming to handy blows, all behave themselves like valiant soldiers, lead on by valiant commanders, and now begins the mortal millelanie: Every one fights, every one would vanquish, & every one is both assaulted & assaulter: The left wing of Artamenes his army, did foil the right of the Confederate Kings: And the right of the Princes did much shake the left of Artamenes: as for him, he did not only do according as he was accustomed, but he did that which never was done: The Prince Tigranes did also signal himself at this time: Philadaspes after their example, did all that could be expected from a man of a great soul: & my master himself, has often told me, notwithstanding his hate of him, that he deserved immortal praises: It is no wonder therefore if the lesser army get the betteer of the greater; having three such extraordinary men in it which sustained it. It must be confessed, that the getting of the Battle deserves to be wholly attributed unto Artamenes. Not only because a hundred times more valiantly than any other: Not only because he gave out orders with more excellency of judgement than any other: Not only because he did extremely animate his Soldiers: whom he often rallied: whom he often Supported; whom he often defended, and was in every place where need was; but also because he did on thing which put more enemies to rout then any thing that all others did: My dear and invincible master who was resolved to vanquish or die, and to preserve the honour of his first victory, which he knew he should Lose if he lost this Battle, and would be accused for hazarding it too much: Artamenes, I say; who would either Triumph or Perish, did not now study to pick out enemies to fight with, and spare their Blood, as almost always he used, thinking it better to hazard being wounded by endeavouring to take valiant men prisoners, then to kill them, as he easily could have done: But now at this time, he fell upon all that stopped his passage: he wounded all which did not render themselves, and killed all that obstinately resisted him: Meeting then with a body of horse which stood firm, he charged them; he foiled them, and made them fly, not observing that the King of Pontus, that generous Rival, whom he so much esteemed and loved, was he which made most resistances, But having wounded him in the right arm, and this Prince being out of Combat, and out of hopes to be relieved, since he was so compassed about with the Soldiers of Artamenes: Seeing himself, I say, in this condition, and knowing my Master, he had rather render himself unto him then any other: and in this thought, seeing himself pressed on every side, and ready to Perish: I must render myself Artamenes (said this wounded Prince) I must submit and confess you deserve to conquer: At these words, Artamenes knowing him, came near, and seeing he could not lift his sword, he despersed those who pressed upon him; you yield rather unto my fortune then my valour, (replied he) But however, I must make use of by good fortune, and will endeavour to show you that it is accompanied with some virtue; in saying so, he turned towards Chrisantes, who fought always near him, and putting the King of Pontus, into his charge, go Chrisantes said he, Conduct the King unto our Camp: for he will be better waited upon there then in his own, where all is in confusion; but look to him, (said he) as a Prince who would have been our Conqueror, if all his soldiers were as valiant as himself. Chrisantes obeying my Master, and guarded by two hundred horse, did convey the King of Pontus: to whom Artamenes said in parting with him, with much Civility, Sir, I would go myself to wait upon you, if the necessity of my office would permit me. But since I see some of your Soldiers with Arms in their hands, your Majesty will pardon me if I leave you, and go to put myself into such a condition, as I may return with more reverence and leisure to serve you: at these words, stooping as low as the skirt of his saddle, he turned his horse; And this Conquered Prince, Submitting himself to the law of a Conqueror, who treated him with so good a grace, and followed Chrisantes, not at all then King of his liberty: yet the King of Phrygia, coming presently after to know that the King of Pontus was taken prisoner, began to be in a mighty fury, and though he was not now much above the age of a young man, yet was he Master of much vigour, and Generosity; so that apprehending this loss, he doubled his strength in his endeavours to repair it: he mustered together as many men as he could, and went himself into places fullest of danger: Artamenes being informed where this Prince did fight, went thither, and took as many of his men with him as he met in the way, and began a fresh combat: Nothing was to be seen in all places, but dead, and dying men, Soldiers throwing away their Arms either to Render themselves or fly. And the victory was clearly on Artamenes his side; yet the night drawing on apace it could not be discerned where men fought, and where men fought not: And Philidaspes, whom the Crowd had separated from Artamenes, notwithstanding his resolution not to forsake him; having vanquished all those which Resisted him, and not seeing my Master to give out orders, caused a retreat to be presently sounded: immediately after, every one was rallied under his own Ensign: The party of Artamenes was absolute Master of the field, and of all the Enemy's Baggage which they had forsaken: But as for the Conqueror himself, none could tell any tidings of him: All the Captains asked one another where he was; and all the soldiers were inquisitive what was become of their General: one said, I saw him not, since in the head of our company, he routed a whole squadron which resisted him, another said, I never saw him since he killed a brave gallant man which opposed him: and indeed every one observed him the last time they saw him, by some heroic Act or other: But though all saw him in the Combat, yet none knew now where he was; he was not to be found any where; He was neither in the Camp nor in the Field of Battle; so that it must clearly be concluded, he was either a prisoner or dead: Philidaspes himself was much moved at it, whether it proceeded from his generosity, or from a quite contrary resentment, he was very careful to inquire him out. For my part Sir, I never was sensible of so great a sorrow: Chrisantes was not a little sad; And it was well said, that that there was not one in all the army, which grieved not more for this loss, than the gaining of two Battles did rejoice them: In the mean time since Philidaspes undertook the Command of the Army under the notion of the General: all the officers did without any difficulty receive orders from him: As for the Prince Tigranes, he was not to stay long in Cappadocia, nor take upon him any employment, only as a volunteer: All the Soldiers had souls so inquisitive of their General, that they must be better satisfied concerning his fortune: They spoke unto Philidaspes, to inquire of the King of Pontus into what place they believed the King of Phrygia was retreated, to the end a Herald might be sent thither, to know if Artamenes were there a Prisoner: for indeed there was two Soldiers, who were certain they saw Artamenes a good way off, just at night, pursuing his Enemies on that quarter where the King of Phrygia made his Retreat. It was I Sir, who was employed unto the King of Pontus, who was Lodged in my masters sent. He assured me, that the King of Phrygia was at that Town nearest Cerasia close upon the River Sangar But Sir, I never in all my life found a Prince more reasonable than he; for when I expressed my fears that Artamenes was taken Prisoner: If that be all (said he to me) never fear him: and calling for pen and paper, though he was wounded in his right arm, yet he writ a letter unto the King of Phrygia, by which he desired, that if Artamenes chanced to be in his power, to treat him with all possible civility: a Herald than was dispatched to the King of Phrygia: Chrisantes and I, with an infinite number of others, of all conditions, lighting abundance of Torches, went to search amongst the dead for that which we wished never to find, though we much feared we should: Alas, (said I to Chrysantes) can the Gods be both so favourable and so averse unto Artamenes? would they permit him to get two glorious Victories in one day, to let him perish thus, and let Philidaspes enjoy the fruits of all his hardship? Though day did break, yet we continued on our fears, and glad we were to see we sought in vain. Since we knew that Quarter where Artamenes was seen the last time, Chrisantes and I went thither, not well knowing why we scattered so from the rest of the company: But the Destinies who conducted us, knew that which we were ignorant of. As we began to be in absolute despair of ever finding our dear Master, and were resolving to return back, we heard a pitiful weak voice calling us; we went thither in all haste, and found two soldiers sore wounded, the one in the leg, the other in the thigh, who not being able to rise, lay there all night, hoping for some Passenger to help them; having both of them received their wounds in that place, as they pursued the enemy: But though their wounds were great, and weakness extreme, by reason of their loss of blood, yet the first thing they spoke, was not to ask any help, although they were our own men; but on the contrary, one of them, speaking and looking upon us (for he knew we belonged unto Artamenes,) Go (said he to us) towards the side of that river which you see some two hundred paces off, and look carefully there, whether your Illustrious Master be not in the same condition that we are in. Our Master (said Chrisantes and I both together) Alas, my friends, what can you tell us concerning him? We saw him yesterday very late (answered the soldier which spoke before) pursuing the King of Phrygia, who retreated from fight, but as they passed by us, we saw that Artamenes was wounded, at very parting of day, for we saw his suit of Arms all bloody: We, alas, were as you see us, amongst these bushes, which did interpose between our sight of the adverse Party; but we saw the King of Phrygia before him, and a great company following after him; and we saw him in yonder place, which I point at, maintain a furious fight, and if I be not much deceived, there I saw the Illustrious Artamenes fall, at least, I am certain, there was none stayed there, nor any went off, but some which swum the River, of which I am certain Artamenes was none of them. The soldier had no sooner ended speaking, but Chrisantes and I began to run to the place which he showed us, with doubled fears which we could not express: I think we had left these two poor soldiers without help, had we not accidentally met some of our own men, unto whose care we committed them: Mean while we came to the river side, which is the river Sangar, that parts the Kingdom of Pontus, from the Kingdom of Bithynia: As soon as we came there, we saw all the banks covered with killed men: There was a little wood bridge, which seemed newly broken; and as the stream of this river was not impetuous we saw all along as far as we could look, men killed, and Arms broken; the water itself was changed colour, and all the grass on the bank-sides was sanguined: never was object more mournful than this: we found many of our own men amongst the dead, and many also of the King of Phrygia's; But oh heavens, how I trembled, when following the river a little lower, I knew my dear Masters-horse, which I, saw dead on the side of the water; two of his feet in the river, as if he would have passed over, when he was shot dead with an arrow which stuck in his flank: Alas, alas Chrisantes (cried I) doubtless our Illustrious Master is perished either by steel, or water; which way soever it be, we have lost, alas we have lost the great Artamenes: It is impossible to tell you Sir, how great was our sorrows and astonishment. We saw his horse, which was very markable; and within two paces further we found his head-piece, and as the river was narrow, we could see his Buckler, which being within lined with wood, did float in the water, and stop by some rushes which grew there: In conclusion Sir, we absolutely concluded him lost, since we had searched so exactly all along the river, and found him not; and since upon our return to the Camp, the Herald which we sent to the King of Phrygia, brought no news of him: upon a second reviewing of our sorrows, Chrisantes and I, went again unto the fatal river, and mixed our tears amongst it: We followed the sides, as far as in all probability the waves could convey the Corpse of our dear, dead, and honoured Master: and since this river did empty itself into the Sea, not far distant, we imagined it might convey the Corpse in that Abyss; at last Sir, we returned again unto the Camp all in despair, we absolutely thought him dead, and so did all the Army as well as we: Never was Victory so sadly resented as this; and the loss of twenty Battles, had not moved so much sorrow as this: Every one sighed, all wept and lamented; the Captains had much ado to keep in their soldiers from disbanding themselves, and they did publish aloud, that now there was no more hopes of any victories, since Artamenes lived not: Some said that now they would serve no longer, because there was no more recompense to be looked for; others that they would never more expose themselves to any dangers, since never any would be so exemplary as Artamenes was; All said, Let us lament a General who made us to Conquer without almost any danger; who ever did more himself, than he commanded others to do: who did magnificently recompense us for the least services; who took all the danger to himself, and left the plunder to us: who by his sweetness, and charming familiarity was as well our companion as our general. You may see Sir, what the soldiers said, whilst all the Commanders lamented as much as they, either publicly, or else privately in their Tents: The prisoners we had taken were also very sensibly sad at it; and could find no consolation in their captivity, since they were not now under the power of Artamenes, from whom they hoped for favourable treatment: The King of Pontus particularly was extremely grieved at it, and seemed to be more sorry for the loss of him who had wounded him, who had vanquished him, and who had taken him prisoner, than he was for the loss of two battles, and his liberty. Philidaspes himself, notwithstanding all their thwart and aversions, seemed to be much grieved at this pitiful accident; and if he did entertain any joy, he disguised it so well that it appeared not in his face: But whilst all the world was mourning, I departed from the Camp full of despair, and told no body, no not wise Chrisantes, and I went to Sinope, to acquaint myself of that sad commission, which my Master imposed upon me, and to carry his Letter unto the Princess of Cappadocia. I made such haste as I arrived there four hours sooner than he who Philidaspes sent to acquaint the King with all passages, and to bring new Orders. But since I desired to see none but Mandana, I went the back way of the Town, and footed it unto that gate which is next the Castle, and which as you know is not above twenty paces from it; after I had told them who stopped me at the Gate, that I came from Thermicira, they let me pass; so that I came into the Castle unknown unto any, because it was almost night, and going up a pair of back stairs, which conducted unto the Princess chamber; I came into her outward room unseen by any. I sent first unto Martesia, to tell her that Feraulas had something to impart to her in private: I understood since by this Lady, that the Princess had been extremely sad all the day, and that she was much moved when she was told that I desired to speak with her, before any knew what I had to say: What would Feraulas have with me (said she to Martesia?) If Artamenes be Conqueror, it is the King unto whom he ought to render an account of his victory; and if he be Conquered (said she sighing) I shall but too soon know his misfortune. Madam (answered Martesia) I can say nothing, for I no sooner saw Feraulas, but without giving almost as much time as to tell me he desired to speak with you, I came to tell you. Let him come (said she) into my closet whither I will go, and do you bring him thither. Martesia having received this order, came to me where she left me, and conducted me to the Princess, without opening my mouth, so full was I of sorrow; I no sooner saw the fair Mandana, but in spite of my restraint, my cheeks were all tears: The Princess seeing me in that state, changed colour, and spoke first with much haste; has Artamenes (said she) lost the day? and are our enemy's conquerors? Artamenes Madam (said I) has vanquished your enemies; he has brought the King of Pontus to be your prisoner, and has won you two battles in one day; But Madam (said I doubling my tears, and much ado to speak) at last Artamenes lost his life, and won the day. Is Artamenes (said she in the saddest tone, that she could express) lost in this battle? yes Madam (replied I) Artamenes is no more of this world: See (said I in presenting the Letter which my Master writ unto her) what he gave me before he went to fight, and what he enjoined me to deliver unto your hand after his death, if it should chance in this dismal battle. The Princess at these words, could not restrain her tears no more than I: she went to a table where there was a light, and did sit so as I could not see her face, purposely to hide her tears; But do what she could, and notwithstanding my own sorrows I observed that her grief was extreme. I owe so much unto Artamenes (said she in taking the Letter) that I should be very ungrateful, if I did not sadly resent his loss; and if after his death, I do not whatsoever he desires me; for (said she turning a little towards me) I do imagine that this illustrious man would commend some of his servants unto me, and ask some recompenses for them which he never would for himself. I know not Madam (said I to her) what my master has writ: But I know that they who had the honour to be his, desire now nothing but death; and neither pretend either unto any fortune or any life: Mean while the Princess, after she had dried her eyes from those tears which she could not keep in, she began to read my Master's Letter, which as Martesia told me afterwards, was thus indicted.  
ARTAMENES, TO THE Princess of Cappadocia.  
BEfore you read what an unfortunate Prince does write, Think I beseech you, that he which takes this liberty to write unto you, will never write again; and he could not resolve to fail in that reverence which he owes you, until after he had lost his life in your service. But Madam, as he durst not displease you as long as he lived, so he would not deprive himself of so much consolation, as to hope, that you should know after his death, how he lived not but unto you, and how he never loved and adored any else but you; Yes Madam, Artamenes, who by his birth is not absolutely unworthy of the Princess of Cappadocia, is so conscious of deserving the Princess Mandana, that from the first minute he saw her, he never durst tell her that he loved her; and how his love was it which caused all his good fortune in Arms, and all the torment of his life. No, Divine Princess, it was only for your sake, that I was here in this Court disguised, and unknown: it was for you I fought, I vanquished, and refused all the earth; though it is one of the most noble parts of it which if I had lived I had commanded. That which most perplexeth me at present is, that I cannot know whether I shall die Conqueror, or Conquered; If the first, than Madam receive the Victory as the fruits of my love, which I purchased at the price of my blood; if the later, then pity an unfortunate man who died in your service, and who died adoring you: since I have nothing to hope for, I believe your virtue will not be offended at my respectful passion; and you shall never find worse than I discover, since the first time that I write unto you is my last of life. There needs no other answer Madam, unto what I desire, but some slight testimonies of sorrow and pity; refuse them not then I conjure you: And that you may be the easier induced to pardon my boldness, consider if you please Madam, that if I had lived, you had perhaps been for ever ignorant of what I now tell you, when I am entering into my Grave.  
ARTAMENES.  
As long as the reading of this Letter lasted, tears did so abundantly trickle, that she was forced divers times to break off: But when she had ended, knowing that she was not able to restrain her lamentations more than she could her tears, & being desirous that I should be no witness of her excessive sorrows; Feraulas (said she to me) you see that I have not forgot how the illustrious Artamenes saved the life of the King my Father, since I so condole his loss, that I can take no joy in all those glorious advantages which he hath achieved for us: But (said she sighing) what can be done less for him, who in one day hath won two battles; hath taken an enemy King prisoner, and hath bestowed an everlasting peace upon all Cappadocia, then to make that memorable day, a day of sorrow and tears for his loss? Grief did sad this Princess, that she could hardly pronounce these last words; so that to be at more liberty of lamentation, Go Feraulas (said she to me) lament your glorious master, and come hither in the morning, for I shall be glad to see you: Then I made a low reverence to depart, and was at the closer door, when she called me back; Feraulas (said she to me) tell me before you go, of what Country was the most Famous Artamenes? and exactly tell me, what was his quality? He was a Prince Madam, (said I to her) and had if he had lived been a King of a great Kingdom: But Madam, this is all I have in commission to tell you, my Master having expressly forbidden me to tell his name: 'Tis enough, said she, for the glory of Artamenes, and too much for the tranquillity of Mandana: she being more loaden with sorrows at these words, dismissed me, and stayed alone, only with her dear confident Martesia. I was no sooner gone (as she told me afterwards) but giving her my Master's letter to read: See there (said she) alas there you will find the cause of my excessive sorrow. Consider I pray you, if ever any was more lamentable: Martesia, obeying the Princess, began to read the Letter in a low voice unto herself: but Mandana would not suffer her: No (said she) Martesia, I would understand, what I confusedly beheld, and what perhaps I have read false. Martesia began to read the letter aloud, but, oh heavens, how oft was this reading interrupted, and how happy had Artamenes been, if he had known her resentments of him; whosoever should have told me within this hour (said the Princess to Martesia) that I should receive a declaration of love without anger; and that I should pity him which made it, and dearly loved his memory; Ah Martesia I should not have believed it. Yet I cannot choose but confess my weakness unto you, and acknowledge that I do infinitely compassionate the unfortunate Artamenes. I am not angry at him for loving me: yet I know not (added she) whether if he should rise again I should repent of what I say, and all I would do, should be to hide my resentments: yet Martesia, I do well find, that Artamenes had a greater share in my heart then ever I thought, and perhaps more than he ought to have, or I to afford him. Indeed Martesia my soul is extremely troubled, I am very sensible of those sorrows which are in me, and whether I will or no, all these sad passions do not offend me; I perceive, (added she) that the knowledge of his quality mingles a secret Sentment of joy in my soul: I recall his life, and all his heroic Acts, into my memory; And against my own mind and consent I cannot forbear to be glad when I find all these things and circumstances which have been told unto me, confirm me in the belief of his birth and love. Indeed Martesia, not to dissemble the truth, I do think, that as Artamenes loved me, and I had no certainty of it, so I did love him also, and knew it not: that which I named esteem and acquaintance (said she and blushed) might perhaps have been called something else: Indeed I know that I did oftimes wish a Crown upon the head of Artamenes, and knew not well why I wished it: and I knew moreover, that though the suspicions which I had of his passions did disturb me, yet I was never absolutely unwilling that he should love me: But, oh Heavens, that which is most considerable, and most vexatious is, that I know I shall resent his death so deeply, as it will molest all the tranquillity and hopes of my life: The sad Mandana stopped at these words: And Martesia, though she was much troubled at the loss of Artamenes, yet to comfort the Princess told her, that the Gods were ever wont to mix bitters and sweets, goods and bad's together, and never the one without the other; and therefore, at this time she must think that all these victories are bought at a dearer rate: Ah Martesia (said she to her) that victory which is at the price of Artamenes life, is infinitely too dear, though it had brought me a Crown with it: For my dear Martesia, It is a hard matter ever to be comforted after the loss of such a Prince as he: A Prince I say, who was owner of all excellent Qualities and no bad ones: also one who loved us. But, (said Martesia to her) if he had lived you had never known as much: or if you had you would have been offended at it. I confess, (replied the Princess hastily) I should have been offended, and that mortally: But Martesia, he never told me of it, but until he was at the point of death: I knew it not until he was in such a condition as he could not know what I thought of it; and it is this principally which causeth my most sharp sorrow: All the great acts of Artamenes, and all his high virtues, were things which truly did gain and merit my esteem: but I must confess unto you, that his reverence and respect of me, has absolutely gained my heart: The Combats which he fought: the battles which he won, and all his other glorious actions, which he did, to merit my approbation, did not so much appertain unto me, but that he and others did share in the glory with me: But that Artamenes should love me, and out of his profound reverence and respect unto me, should not tell it me until his death; This Martesia reflects wholly upon Mandana: this it is which makes me plainly see that Artamenes he did value me: And this is it, which obliges me to love the memory of a man, who had reason in his love, and loved me without offending or displeasing me. Madam, (said Martesia then unto her) I do conceive it just indeed, that you should cherish the memory of Artamenes; but yet I know not why you should so much injure yourself as to grieve so excessively: I know not (replied the Princess) whether it be just, or handsome, but I am sure, I can do no less: I should never have finished my relation Sir, if I should tell you all that Mandana said and did upon this occasion: She went to bed and would not eat any meat: she passed away all the melancholy night, without a wink of sleep. The same night that the King knew of the victories and death of Artamenes, by him whom Philidaspes sent to advertise him; he testified an extreme sorrow for his loss: All the Court and all the Town were sad: one would have thought his Battle had been lost, and the whole Kingdom utterly ruined: All were quite deceived, only Aribeus, who was glad in his hart, though he durst not let it appear; since the King thought that the Princess was yet ignorant of this sad news, he sent to tell her, and went himself the next morning to condole, and also comfort her, for he knew very well that she did very much esteem Artamenes: This meeting was condoled on the King's part very tenderly and sadly; and very wisely and reservedly on the Princess part; for she discovered no more sorrows and compassion, than the interest of the state might reasonably cause in her soul, for such a loss: but as soon as the King was gone, she sent to seek me, and as I could not stay any longer at Sinope, so they found me coming to take my leave on her: when I came into her Chamber, Madam (said I coming near her bed (I come to desire your leave that I may return to the Camp: what will you do there (replied the Princess) I would go (replied I) to see if Chrisantes have since my departure from him, yet found the corpse of my dear dead Master, which before we could not find: what (said the Princess sighing) has not the unfortunate Artamenes received the honour of a Burial? No Madam, (said I with eyes swelled with tears) unless Chrisantes have found him since my departure. Then she enjoined me to relate unto her all that I have told you; to wit, all that we found along the river of Sangar, and all I knew concerning the death of my dear Master: after I had told her all, and by my sad relation caused her to bedew all her fair face with a deluge of tears, she began to press me again to tell her his name: For (said she) what good reason could he have to conceal it? I know not Madam (answered I) nor can I, I confess comprehend it, considering the greatness of his birth: But it belongs not to me to examine my Master's reasons; it is my duty only, to execute his last Commands with all punctual observance: You have reason (said she to me) and I have done you wrong in pressing you unto so unjust and unreasonable a thing; It is sufficient that I know that he was of a Royal extract; and there is not any Prince in the world, let him be as great as he can be, but may desire a Son which shall be like unto him: Mean while, (said she to me) believe it Feraulas, and assure Chrisantes of as much, that all they which had relation unto the most glorious Artamenes, may obtain any thing from the Princess Mandana, and that which she has not done for him, she will do for his. You are too generous Madam (said I to her) but I have already told you, that 〈…〉 ask no more from the Gods, but only the Corpse of our dear Master, and the honour to bring him unto his grave; these words did so extremely move the Princess, that putting out her hand unto me, she said, you are worthy servants of such a Master as you have lost: Go and seek out with all diligence these glorious and sad Relics, until you have found it out; and when you have found it, let me be acquainted with it, to the end I may move the King my father to pay those honours which are due unto his merit, and unto those services which we have received. After this, she dismissed me with a profound sigh, and would have given me a Jewel, but I refused it, and went from Sinope to the Camp, that I might follow the invincible Artamenes, if I could do nothing else: Mean while, although the King was much troubled at the loss of my Master, yet I would not lose the fruits of his Victory; and fearing left the King of Phrygia should bring fresh forces into the Field, and relieve the King of Pontus, therefore he sent the next morning that I parted from Sinope, a command unto Philidaspes, to bring the prisoner King to Court, so that the day after I came to the Camp, Philidaspes with six thousand men, went to conduct him: He left the command of the Army, by Order from Ciaxares unto Artaxes, brother of Aribeus, and came unto Sinope with intentions to Triumph, and assume unto himself all the glorious Labours of my most Illustrious Master. Neither Chrisantes nor I would return to Court, but both stayed in the Camp, and continued our search all along the fatal river Sangar, and in all places thereabouts for what we had lost, and to lament our misfortune. The Prince Tigranes, who saw there was no more to do in the Army, returned to Sinope, much grieved for the loss of Artamenes; As for Philidaspes, as generous as he was, I do believe that if he was not glad of the death of Artamenes, yet he had some resemblances of it, which presently after produced, the same effects in his heart. He departed from the Camp, in such a manner as was not ordinary, but very magnificent: As for the King of Pontus, he had contrary resentments in his soul, for he was extreme sad at the loss of the Battle; much grieved at the death of him which won it; angered to follow Philidaspes as his Conqueror who was not so; and in extreme confusion, to appear as a conquered prisoner, before that Princess whom he loved: yet amongst all these bad resentments, he had some secret joy, that he should see her again: Mean time Philidaspes marched in all haste, and as he went to Sinope, he ordained a petty Triumph, wherein might be seen all signs of mourning, as well as Victory, for the death of their General, not daring to express it otherwise. Then, as at the last Battle, all the Baggage of both Kings was all taken; so also they met with many things which the King of Phrygia had formerly taken from Ciaxares, in a war which was betwixt them: Philidaspes made use of all the rich Plunder to make the Pomp more proudly Magnificent: He caused two thousand men of war to march first, in the head of which were carried abundance of Ensigns gained from the Enemy; and the better to set forth the death of their General, they which carried them were in mourning.: Fifty Trumpets followed these Ensigns, in black Mantles and Pennons: afterwards followed forty Coaches, covered with black, all filled with magnificent coats of Arms, Headpieces, Plumes of divers colours, Bucklers of a hundred several fashions; Swords, Bowes, Quivers, Arrows, and Lances; And all this in so handsome a mixture, and so well set out, with order and with confusion both, that as they who were there told us, nothing could be beheld more beautiful and Pompous: Six other Chariots followed these forty first, all filled with that which Ciaxares had formerly lost, to wit, magnificent Pavilions, great pieces of Plate, both silver and gold, prised at an inestimable rate and value, both for their huge Prodigousnes, and rich engravings; a Throne of Gold, richly beset with Onyx, Topaz, and other rare Pretious-stones: After these Charets, marched the King prisoner on horseback, but without a sword, environed with a hundred for his guard, in mourning Cassocks, and followed with fifteen hundred Prisoners, chained four to four: Immediately after marched Philidaspes alone, clothed in mourning, and his horse furniture suitable, with the Baston of a General in his hand; The rest of the Regiments followed, marching in the same order as the first. As this Triumph came into the great Plain within twenty furlongs of Sinope, they of the first Rank saw a Litter, which crossing the way about an hundred paces before them, did stay as if it were to let the Soldiers pass: yet they were no sooner within compass of looking into the Litter, but presently making a stop, they began to run out of order, and cry out, It is Artamenes, it is Artamenes: This word passing from the first Rank to the second, and from the second to the third, and so throughout all, the glorious name of Artamenes did in an instant fill the mouths of friends and enemies; Captains and Soldiers, Conquerors and conquered: all stopped, and in a moment, all would advance to be better certified of the matter: Philidaspes, who was afraid it should be some stratagem of the King of Phrygia, to put his Soldiers in disorder whilst he relieved the King of Pontus, commanded every one to his place, and advanced to the place where the noise began. But oh Heavens, how was he surprised, when looking into the Litter, he saw that it was really Artamenes which was within it, who held his hand out to the Soldiers, and cherished all them which came near him: This sight did doubtless astonish Philidaspes, and perhaps made him sad: But as he was one of a great soul, wit, and generosity, so he partly hid it, without expressing much joy, or much sorrow; he lighted from his horse, and came near my Master. Artamenes (said he in coming to him, and presenting him his General's Staff) could never rise in fitter time: he who died in the day of Victory, revives again, in the day of Triumph: In the case that I am in (replied Artamenes smiling, and most civilly saluting him) I may more aptly be taken for a vanquished, than a vanquisher: And to tell you truly, I think that I am neither fit to follow a Chariot, nor to go before it. Chariots of triumph (answered Philidaspes) are not difficult to be conducted, for commonly fortune guides them; Artamenes had not leisure to answer this nice compliment: for all the Officers, whether Philidaspes, who commanded them, would or no, did quit their places, and acknowledge him no more, but came to salute their General Artamenes; All the Regiments not daring absolutely to quit their Ranks, because of the Prisoners which they guarded, yet they pressed so, that all the Soldiers might at least see the Litter where he was. The King of Pontus, impatient to embrace his glorious Conqueror, sent one of them who was appointed for his guard to ask leave for him to come near: The soldier coming near, and presenting what the King of Pontus desired, my Master with an unparalelled modesty, making a sign to him with his hand, It is Philidaspes (said he) and not Artamenes, which can grant him that leave, and of whom he must ask it, since he received the last Orders from the King, and commands in Chief Philidaspes being even confounded, and half angry at my Master's sweet civility, said unto him, That his power was nothing since he was present, and therefore the command was in him. I care not for commanding others (answered Artamenes) when I am not in a condition to do that myself which I bid others do: You must at this time (answered Philidaspes) endure this inconveniency, for I do not think there is any will take your Office out of your hand. Why you may better take it upon you then I (replied Artamenes) Your Soldiers will not consent, replied Philidaspes, and I think they have good reason for it. In conclusion Sir, after this modest contest Artamenes took upon him that Command which belonged unto him, and turning towards the messenger from the King of Pontus: My friend, said he to him, tell the King of Pontus, that if I were able to go, I would come where he is, and do him that reverence which is his due, and tell him that he may do what ever he pleases. This generous Royal prisoner came then with great joy to salute the man who had captived him: I could not but grieve much (said he in coming to him) at your loss; and I never had any thought of my liberty, until that minuit you were believed to be dead. Sir, (answered my Master with much sweetness) if I were not so wounded, as I could not sustain myself, Artamenes would not receive the King of Pontus after such an uncivil manner; and doubtless he would let him know, that he thinks his Victory very unfortunate, that he is not had in more Veneration. Never speak of unfortunate (answered the King of Pontus) my fetters are not base since you did put them on; nor have I need of all my Victories to follow Artamenes as my Conqueror: Such as you, who deserve to Conquer (answered my Master) ought to be but little troubled at being conquered, and it is a greater argument of your valour, then mine, that you find such consolation in your misfortune. The King of Pontus, drawing back a little, to give room unto those who yet had not saluted Artamenes, my Master had a desire to know whether or no the Victory was complete: he asked of the King and the Princess: he enquired particularly of most part of all the Officers; and he had the goodness to ask where Chrisantes, and where I was: He cheered up those with his eyes unto whom he could not speak; and assured all the Soldiers smiling, that he desired not from them any part of the Plunder or Booty. Every one desired to know what had become of him: But he told them all, that this was not a fit place for it, and desired their patience. After this joyful tumult was appeased, Artamenes sent to the King to acquaint him with his being alive, and that he was in the head of six thousand men, who brought the King of Pontus unto him, to the end he might acquit himself of his former promise, and to tell that he waited for his Orders; Mean time, they marched gently, and came within six furlongs of Sinope. I leave you to imagine Sir, what different thoughts came into my Master's mind: 'tis true that he saw he returned to the Court in a most glorious manner, having gained two Battles in one day, and brought a King a prisoner with him: But yet he knew the King of Pontus was his Rival, and that did make him almost repent the taking him: The sight of Philidaspes also did agitate in his mind, the remembrance of all their ancient differences, and stirred up no small turbulence in his soul; but of all other inquietudes, the incertainty whether or no I had delivered the letter unto the princess did most grate in his mind: Sometimes, he desired it were: Sometimes he feared it was: Sometimes he was incertain which he should wish, and could not determine what to think: Philidaspes for his part was not with out his turbulencies; he saw the glorious resurrection of his enemy: and looked upon him as more his Conqueror, than the King of Pontus did: and thought it concern, 〈◊〉 him as near as the loss of his liberty. This Prince, though indeed he was the most unfortunate of all at this time, yet he did not think himself so; for he knew not that Philidaspes, and Artamenes, were his Rivals: but on the contrary he was in hope that my Master would do good offices to the King and Princess; so that he loved him with an extreme tenderness. Thus did these three Illustrious lovers of the Princess of Cappadocia resent the business: mean while, the messenger which my Master sent before to carry news of his happy resurrection, arrived at Sinope: you may Imagine Sir how he was received: The King, resented it more Joyfully than he could express, and made him which brought the happy tidings repeat it a hundred times over: The King sent present to acquaint the Princess, who testified an unimaginable satisfaction: The whole Court was ravished: All the people rejoiced: Aribeus himself was compelled to seem so because he must not be singular, and made some counterfeit signs of gladness as he did before of sorrow: The Prince Tigranes who had designed his departure deferred it, in hopes to see Artamenes, and went not until the fifth day after his return. The King, desirous to honour my Master, sent him word that he would not have him come into the Town in a Tumult, and without Ceremony; and appointed him to encamp his Troops near the Castle, about six furlongs from thence: and there he would have him lodge, assuring him, that he would come that night to embrace him: He was obeyed, and all things were as he commanded: The King then went and carried Surgeons, and Physicians with him unto Artamenes: whom he cheered up, the like was never seen: He received Philidaspes also very well, but not comparable to my Master, who was constrained to go into his bed: As for the King of Pontus, he appointed unto him the best chamber in the Castle: and as a little before Ciaxares came, this Prince sent unto my Master, desiring him to obtain from the King, that he might not enter into Sinope, amongst the rest of the Prisoners; So my Master, who thought he could never enough acknowledge the generosity of this illustrious Prisoner, was ever forward to render him any good office he could desire, Provided, it did not relate unto his love: For as Ciaxares told him it was not Just that he should enter Sinope as if he were not conquered; Artamenes, did desire him as a recompense for all his services, that the King of Pontus might come into the Town in the night, as well as himself. It will be sufficient Sir, (said he) that the people see the plunder of the field, and the other prisoners, without augmenting the misfortunes of this great Prince (unto whom I am obliged) by an unprofitable Pomp; and without making me ashamed of those honours which I deserve not. The King could hardly resolve what to do, but in conclusion, he must yield unto him who was ever wont to Conquer. Artamenes, beseeched Ciaxares, that he would be pleased to see the the King of Pontus his prisoner, which at the request of my Master he did: The interview of these two enemy Princes passed with all possible Civility between them: mean while the King burned with an ardent impatience, to know where Artamenes had been: how he escaped, and how he came so opportunely to meet the Army, he no sooner knew from the Surgeons who had searched his wounds whilst he went to visit the King of Pontus, that they were all absolutely without danger, but he pressed him extraordinarily to relate it: Artamenes would have had a day's dispensation, but the Impatiency of Ciaxares would not permit it: he exactly told them, all that which I am now going to tell you, and which I afterwards had from his own mouth: to let you know then what was become of my Master, I must return to the place of Battle, and tell you, that when those two Soldiers of which I spoke did see him pass; it was true, as they believed, that he was wounded in the left shoulder, and yet he did not cease following the King of Phrygia as far as the River Sangar. As this Prince in his retreat passed over a little wood bridge, which I already spoke of, the multitude of those which followed, and which would pass all at a time over with him, caused the bridge to break when he had half his men on the one side, and half on the other side of the river: But that which seemed to do him an ill office, did him a good one, because by this accident my Master was stayed, and he could not continue his pursuit: yet those which were on this side the broken bridge, redoubling their valour out of despair to save themselves, did obstinately defend themselves: on the other side, Artamenes, all in anger that this Prince had escaped him, did assault them with unimaginable violence, and so there began a fresh Combat: Those which followed the King of Phrygia on the other side the River, thinking themselves safe, endeavoured to help their own side by shooting abundance of Arrows, from the other side of the River, and we could not return the like, because Artamenes had then no Archers with him: In conclusion, almost all they which fought being dead, and day at an end. One of the Arrows from the other side, shot the horse of Artamenes in the flank; the horse perceiving himself wounded began to run with all his speed along the River side, and whether my Master would or no carried him from those few of his men which remained; Afterward falling to Curvett upon a sudden, and Leaping by the water side, as if he would swim the River, he fell dead down, in danger to Drown my Master, because that since he had fought near the bridge, he had received a wound in the thigh, so that he had much a do to disengage himself from under his horse, and get out of the water on to Land. Yet notwithstanding all the blood which he had lost, and the heaviness of his Arms, he recovered himself. But as soon as he had got out of this danger, he was presently engaged in another; for he perceived he was much more wounded than he thought to be, it being absolutely impossible to hold himself up; besides the night came on, and he saw not one about him: yet he heard a noise of men which fled and passed by not far of that place; but because he knew not whether they were friends or enemies, he Paused a while to deliberate whether he should call them or no; but presently, he heard no more of them, and there he lay, not knowing what to do or what would become of him, knowing well that he had not strength enough to carry him to the Camp, though in the obscurity of the night he should chance to stumble upon the way: moreover it was so dark that he could not see, nor had he strength if he had had eyes to find his helmet, and Buckler which he had lost in fight, though he sought them as well as he could▪ he sat then down at the root of a Tree, resolving to stay there until the next day: Certainly if any had seen him in that deplorable Condition, it would have been hard for them to believe, that he had gained two Battles in one day: took a King a Prisoner, and Chased another. But after he had sat a while in this cold manner, chance would have it, that a horse which was left without a master in the fight, wand'ring along the River side, passed by him; as soon as the Animal by favour of the stars espied him, he started back with all speed; but by good fortune his bridle which hung down did entangle his feet, and made him stumble so near my Master, that he catching hold of the bridle, he seized upon him and held him: The horse being none of the most mettled, stopped presently: and Artamenes knowing himself weak with loss of blood, and considering he was far from the Camp, with much ado got up, and resolved to go unto any place, where he could discover any light, or house, thinking it were better to ask help of an enemy, rather than perish at the foot of a Tree, where there was none to help him: he knew that there was one part of Bithyria which was not very affectionate unto the King of Pontus, whose father had usurped it from those which were the legitimate owners. Indeed, because he could do nothing else, he marched strait to the place where he saw light; As he came near it, he saw it had been a goodly fair Castle, built with Fortifications, and which now had no Towers nor Walls: Artamenes entered it without resistance; but, the feet of his horse made such a noise in the ears of them that were within, that Artamenes heard a great number of women cry, as if two thousand men were coming to take them: but my Master putting them out of fear, by the weakness of his voice, he saw appear a woman well on in years, and of a good deportment upon the battlement, whom four other women lighted with torches: Mean while, Artamenes being lighted from his horse, though in great pain, he saw this Lady look upon him with extraordinary observance, and after she had thus well considered him, not giving him time to speak, she cried out upon a sudden; Ah my son; ah Spitridates is it you? ah Spitridates, is it possible I should see you here? At these words, although there were men in the house, she ran to help Artamenes, those which took him by the arms sustained him; all the women came near to look upon him, and this Lady which spoke unto him, desiring to embrace my Master, he fell into a sound, and remained as dead in her arms, which troubled her much. In a belief he was her son, she commanded they should carry him to a chamber, to disarm him and get him to bed; for since he was all bloody, she knew he was wounded: By good fortune there was a young Chirurgeon, which after the rout of the King of Pontus' Army came thither: Mean while, though Artamenes had not strength enough to answer that Lady, which called him Spitridates, yet he did remember it, at his coming again to himself; but he was much astonished, when opening his eyes, he found he was in a fair chamber, in a stately bed, and many Ladies about him, amongst which there was one who was admirably fair; he also saw her which called him Spitridates, but he saw all tears for his wounds, and for the Arms she saw him have: My Master notwithstanding his weakness, had no sooner recovered his sight, and his reason, but he saluted the Ladies with much reverence: He intended to present a compliment and excuse his surprise, but this aged Lady prevented him, and said unto him sighing; Alas, is it possible I should see you again? and that the Gods amongst all my bitter misfortunes should afford me this good one? to find you after I have so long lamented and bewailed your absence? but alas, I find you wounded, and in Arms for our Enemies, in which, perhaps you have killed your father, or your brother, or both, for we hear no news of them, and they were in the Battle, as it seems by your wounds you were also: Ah Spitridates, what cause has the King given you, that after five years' travels you should return in Arms against him and your Country? My Master hearing this Lady speak thus was much surprised, and though he could not without trouble to himself, yet he would needs undeceive her: If I were he whom you think me to be (answered he unto her) I should not disown myself, but since I am not, I ought not to let you go on in your error, though perhaps it might have been advantageous unto me. What, said the Lady, are you not my son? No Madam, answered my Master, I am so far from being your son, that you have relieved an enemy, but such an enemy, as hath done nothing which might in reason incite you particularly against him, since his design aims no other, then faithfully to serve that King in whose service he is engaged. I see my son (said she interrupting ●●m) that you are ashamed of what you have done, and will not confess who you are, since we hear no news of those two are so nearly related unto you, and who perhaps you have fought withal, and knew not; nor will I (said she leaving him) disturb you in that condition you are in. After this, the Lady went out of the Chamber, and left my Master in much wonder, seeing they would needs take him for one, whom he was not: He passed over that night very quietly, for though he had lost much blood, yet no fever seized on him; and his weariness causing him to sleep, he was as well the next morning, as one who had two such great wounds could possibly be hoped for. This Lady, failed not to visit him in the morning, and renewed her complaints: she than saw there was some difference between Artamenes and Spitridates, but no more than she thought five years might alter, it being so long since she saw him: My son, said she to a woman who was there, was not so big when he left us; he had not the same Symmetry of face, so high and so noble; but he was then young, and five years might make a great change in a man of his years: yet Artamenes, who would by no means lie unto her, spoke such things unto her, as she doubted of it: he beseeched her that he might send a letter unto the Lieutenant General of the Cappadocean Army, but she would not confent unto it: No, said she unto him, I cannot be yet resolved of my doubts: My eyes tell me you are my son, but your words assure me you are my enemy, and which of them soever you be, peradventure you have killed my husband: at these words, tears flowing in her eyes; If ye be my son (said she to him) I ought to pardon you, and though you should be an enemy unto the King under whose government we are at present, yet I ought to be compassionate, and pity you, since you are so unfortunate and generous as not to delude me; and for these reasons I will assist you. I know, my son, that since you have forsaken the King of Pontus, I must hide you, as one that is delinquent: But, my son, said she, I am your mother, and moreover we are assured the King of Pontus is taken prisoner, and you know the Princess his sister will not entertain you in his absence; and we do every day receive a hundred secret assistances, in consideration of you; speak therefore, I conjure you, and tell me exactly the truth; Tell me whether you be Spitridates, and what is your true name, and Country: My Master now found himself in a labyrinth: there was no colour of reason to tell he was Artamenes, for that would be to put such a man as he, perhaps into the hands of his enemies; he beseeched her therefore for the present, to believe that he was not Spitridates, and not to press him any further to tell his name; he assured her, that the King whom he served would not be pleased with it, and that for divers other reasons, he could not do it. This discourse was long and tedious, and caused my Master's wounds to bleed afresh; a fever seized upon him, and he was eight days very ill: During which time, nothing was spoke of but curing him, and during all which time, he was marvellous well treated by this Lady, though every day, she sometimes thought him an enemy, and sometimes her son, but hearing at last, that her husband, and her other son were escaped the Battle and fled with the King of Phrygia, her soul was more tranquil, and more capable of reason: The next morning when she understood my Master was reasonable well, she would try another way, to discover whether he was her son: She employed that fair Lady her daughter, whom my Master did principally observe at his first coming; and she came unto him, with two other women, and thus put him to a new trial: Brother (said she to him) Madam (answered he interrupting her) I should be infinitely honoured in the name, but since I am not Spitridates, I must needs undeceive you, and content myself with the title of your most humble servant. Whatsoever you are, replied this fair Lady, you deserve more than that phrase, since, considering the state we are in, there is none more unfortunate than we: yet to clear my doubts, both mine, and others in the house, I desire you to take so much pains, as to open this Box, where perhaps, you may find something which will please you; in saying so, she presented a Box, in which was a very rare Picture, and looked upon him with extreme attention: Artamenes, who knew not why she would have him open this Box, obeyed her, and was indeed well pleased with the picture of a Lady admirably fair: but since he knew not who it represented, and having in his heart another picture which darkened the beauty of this, there appeared no extraordinary surprise in his eyes; he looked upon it as a fair thing indeed, but it moved him neither unto a great joy, nor any inquietude: This fair Lady observing the calmness with which he looked upon this picture; Ha generous stranger (said she) I am now certain that you are not Spitridates, for he was never able to look upon this picture with so much coldness; after these words she left my master, and went unto her mother: you need no longer doubt (said she to her) but this man is not Spitridates; for he beheld this picture without any joy or turbulence at all: he grew neither pale, nor red at it; his soul was quiet; his eyes appeared neither pleasant nor sad, and therefore it is impossible he should be Spitridates: no Madam (said she to her) he is not my brother, since he is not a lover of the Princess of Pontus; I must conclude he is not in Love, since he can look upon this picture with so much indifferency; he I say, who never heard her named without a blush; nor ever saw her without astonishment: Thus spoke this young fair Lady, and it was her words which did indeed most undeceive the old one. My Master came to know all this which I intent to tell you, from a woman which looked unto him, and who being desirous to oblige him, told him all she knew. So Sir, this Lady being now fully persuaded, that Artamenes was not Spitridates, did yet resolve to treat him very well; and his merit having already gained so powerful an influence upon her heart, she came to him the next morning, and found him in a good state: Generous stranger (said she to him) since you have no mind to be Spitridates, be therefore what you please; and let me lose a son whom I thought I had found: I beseech you, let not the resemblance he has unto you offend you, for of what condition soever you are, his name cannot be very dishonourable unto you, since his Ancestors in losing the Crown of Bythinia, have not lost their nobleness of blood. Madam, said Artamenes then unto her, I most humbly desire your pardon, if I have not rendered unto you that reverence which is your due, and my duty: Excuse not yourself (said she) in what you have not failed, since (added this Lady sighing) Princesses which live under the Dominion of an Usurper, must not exact that, which perhaps their condition might another time require: Although, said she, you be not my son, yet you do much resemble him, and for that reason, I am obliged to render you your liberty. If you be my son, you are in no security within this house; and if you be not my son, yet you can have no more assurance of safety; therefore it were better that you depart, and I will cause you to be conducted unto what place you please. My master was ravished with joy, at the generosity of this Lady; he thanked her, and protested that he would serve her all the days of his life; and perhaps more effectually than she believed: To which end, he desired her to lend him a Litter which might carry him to the Camp of Ciaxares: My master was yet far from being well; but love adding new strength unto him, he would depart the next morning; and go thither where he might hear Mandana talked on: He was waited upon with the young Chirurgeon who dressed him; and two others who had orders, that if they met any of the King of Pontus' party, or the King of Phrygia, to say that Artamenes was a Cousin unto their Mistress, whom they carried unto her, and who had been wounded in the last battle. My master at departure, did receive a hundred civilities from all these illustrious persons, which he rendered back unto them afterwards with interest, promising them that ere long they should hear from him. As they went the way towards the Camp, he met some straggling soldiers, of whom he enquired where the Army was; who answered that Philidaspes the day before, went from the Camp to conduct the King of Pontus unto Sinope; So that changing their road, they went to meet Philidaspes, which they doubted not but to do, since Coaches and prisoners marched slower than the Litter did: and he did meet them in the plain, as you have been already informed. See Sir, what my Master's adventure was, when they thought him dead. Since the passage was something extraordinary; Artamenes had so much curiosity as to ask the King of Pontus, whether there was a Prince called Spitridates, which resembled him? The King of Pontus told him, that he had thought himself deceived several times, for that it was not possible any two should be more like one another then Spitridates and he, both symmetry of face, composure of parts, and stature. But to return unto my discourse where I left: After Ciaxares had heard from my masters own mouth, all his adventure; he admired his good fortune, and extremely rejoiced at it; and after a long discourse, he left him and returned to Sinope. Yet notwithstanding, it was resolved that the next morning, all the plunder, and all the prisoners should enter the Town; and that at night, the King of Pontus, and Artamenes should be conducted thither. Ciaxares was no sooner departed, but my Master sent to tell the Prisoner King, he had obtained his desire, which caused him to rejoice very much: afterwards Artamenes thought of sending back the Litter which was lent him; and in sending it, he made choice of the Richest and fairest of all his Jewels, and presented it unto that fair young Lady which showed him the picture, desiring her, she would honour him so much as to receive that poor testimony of his acknowledgement; not daring to speak of any kind of gratuity unto the Princess her mother, considering her high Generosity: he did most nobly recompense the Chirurgeon which dressed him, and all those of the house which had been serviceable unto him: who were all extremely well satisfied, as well with the richness of his presents, as with the knowledge of the manner how Artamenes was treated both by the King and all the Court: They imagined their Mistress did not know the true quality of her prisoner. After that my Master had given out all necessary orders, and night being come, he was all alone, and at Liberty to entertain his passion: I see myself, (said he unto himself) escaped from abundance of dangers, & few there are which do not admire my good fortune: But for all this good fortune, which perhaps incites others to envy me, I cannot choose but esteem myself the most unhappy man upon earth; & doubtless shall ever be so until I shall obtain some testimony of my Princess affection: or at least that she does favourably accept of mine: alas (said he further) if Feraulas have presented that letter which I commanded him, perhaps she has read it with disdain, & was so far from having any compassion, that she was angry: Perhaps also (added he) she has pardoned me, and pity did so tender her heart, that she received my declaration without hate: But admit she did so (said he) and pardoned me when she thought me Dead, who knows whether she will do so now I am Living? Perhaps Feraulas has not yet delivered it, and then I shall continue still innocent in her thoughts, as I was at parting: But then also (said this Prince) I shall be unhappy that way: for if she do not know I love her: how dare I ever tell it? what would I have? (said he yet) and what can I desire? I fear that she should know of my love, and yet I desire she did. I do entertain both fears, and hopes: I desire to see Mandana, and am so near either my supreme felicity or my supreme misfortune, that my soul must needs tremble: and the uncertainty of my good or my bad destiny, that it disturbs my reason. In such thoughts as these Artamenes passed away a great part of the night: yet sleep seizing upon his eyes against his will, he was the next morning in a very good condition: and the King's Chiurgions assured him, that with in a few days he would not only be able to quit his bed, but his chamber also, and be perfectly recovered. He received visits from the Court all the day long: and sent to present a compliment unto the Princess Mandana, who received it with much civility, and returned him the like again; but it was after such a manner, that though my Master did oftentimes repeat word for word all that she said unto him, and contemplated upon it, yet he could not pick any thing out of it, which might either fortify his hopes and increase his fears. The morning was employed in entering into Sinope with all the Booty and Plunder, and Prisoners, conducted by Philidaspes after all the mourning was taken of; And the Princess out of a window in the Castle, beheld them all with a mind as turbulent as my Masters. Night being Come; the King of Pontus was conducted by guards unto the Town, and put into a place of safety: but in passing under the window of the Princess, he both saw her and was seen, by Candle light: This moved pity in Mandana, and shame in the Prisoner: Artamenes followed the King of Pontus. The inhabitants of Sinope knowing that he was to enter the Town in the night, did light Candles in all the streets, hanging Lamps at every window: so that by the shouts of joy, and multitudes of Lights, this night Entry was very Triumphant, and magnificent: Artamenes was accompanied by all the Grandees of the Court, who conducted him to the King: my Master was in one thing less happy than the King of Pontus: for he saw not the Princess in passing under her window, because she was gone to bed immediately and feigned to be ill. Martesia, who from the first minute that her mistress heard Artamenes was alive, had observed much joy in her eyes, was now much amazed to observe the disturbances in her soul: therefore seeing none with her, and that she might speak freely: Madam, (said she to her) shall I ask whether it be barely some indisposition in you, which moves you to go to bed; or is there some misfortune happened unto you which I am ignorant of, and which disturbs that satisfaction which you might take from one of the happiest days in all your life? For indeed Madam you see the wars are ended most gloriously: you see that King which you would not marry, in prison, and you see that Prince, whom you thought dead, and so much lamented, to be living. I confess, my Dear Maxtesia (answered the Princess) that I am very happy in many things but not in all; and I am so sensible of my misfortune, that I take no joy in all those apparent felicities, which those who know not the bottom of my heart, do think I do; Madam (replied Martesia) what can it be that should trouble you? The King loves you; all Cappadocia Adores you: A Haltion Peace invites you unto all the delights of the Court: and as the King's Physicians say, Artamenes will be quickly recovered. Artamenes (replied the Princess sighing) will perhaps be but too soon recovered; and though I wish him all manner of good Fortune, yet I would he were in such a condition, as not to leave his chamber until I were fully resolved how I should live with him: How Madam (replied Martesia in a wonder, & interrupting her) Artamenes whom you wept for so bitterly, do you say, perhaps he shall be too soon recovered? Ah Madam, certainly I did not rightly understand you: or else you did ill explain yourself: No, no, Martesia, (replied she) The Crossness of my destiny is such, as that I desire not to see Artamenes as much as I did desire his Life: For know (said she in changing colour) that I do love honour and glory, above all other things; but I do not hate Artamenes so much as to be deprived of his conversation without repugnancy: yet you may well think Martesia, that after he has let me know that he loves me, I ought not to give him that liberty which heretofore he had, and that I live with him, with more restraint, than I did in those times when I had not that tenderness for him, which I sensibly find to be in my heart, in spite of all my virtue. For indeed Martesia (since I may discover the bottom of my soul unto you) Let me tell you, that if Artamenes had been so bold as to speak unto me of any love, I had then treated him but ill. I should then have excluded him from my company, and perhaps I had less esteemed him, because than I should have suspected he had not a true esteem of me; But this way which he takes to let me know his love, (Compassion having softened my heart) I have understood it without anger; and I have believed it without any difficulty: and since I saw he could have no dangerous design in his affection, I did not oppose and stifle it in the beginning: but I called into my memory all his Services: and I repeated in my mind all his Services, his virtues, and all his rare Qualities a hundred and a hundred times over: all these have told me that he loved me in a most respectful manner: I have given more Credit unto it then if he had told it: and I have more acknowledged it, than ever he could hope for: indeed Martesia, his death, gave life unto my friendship (not to give it any other phrase) which is an affection unto him most pure and innocent: Judge then, if, after I have given up my soul unto such a harmless passion, it will be easy for me to resist, and overcome it. (But Madam, said Martesia to her) is Artamenes more in fault now he is living then he was in his grave? No? Answered the Princess, but he is more to be feared: Not that I intent absolutely to withdraw my affection from him; All that I can do, will be to restrain myself from giving him any signs of it: But Madam (replied Martesia) why will you punish him, who is not in any fault? and why will you torment yourself in making him unhappy? Stay Madam until he give you some cause to complain: and if he speak any thing unto you which shall displease you, than it will be time enough to deprive yourself of his sight. But Martesia (said the Princess interrupting her) how do you think I can look upon him without extreme shame? and how can I banish out of my soul, that affection which I entertained when I thought him dead? For my part Madam (replied Martesia) I do confess unto you, that I cannot conceive what reason you can have to love Artamenes when he is dead, and hate him when he is alive. Ah Martesia (cried Mandana) how far are my thoughts from any hate? And how happy would Artamenes be if I Loved him a little less than I did: for indeed, if I did not distrust my own heart I should live with him as I did before: I would stay, as you bid me, until he gave me just cause of complaint: and rest in quietness. But Madam (replied Martesia) I see no cause why he should so disquiet you, for as he did write unto you, and as Feraulas told you, he is a Prince: neither do I see any cause why he should be so offensive unto you, in coming to tell you himself, what before he did write unto you: Ah my dear Martesia, (replied the Princess) that which you tell me for my consolation, is that which most torments me: for if Artamenes were not of that quality he saith he is, his boldness should not have offended me, and dead as he was, I should only have pitied his folly and misfortune: But now I find nothing which can offend me or anger me: upon the whole matter I must not choose myself a husband: moreover, that Fatal custom, which the Assyrians when they were lords of Cappadocia did leave upon it, will not permit me any pretence or colour to justify the affection of Artamenes unto me, and much less Mandana's unto him: So that Martesia he must overcome himself; he must use all extreme violences to do it; he must render Artamenes unhappy, and me unfortunate: Me thinks (said she) that I see him searching in my eyes for the manner of my receiving his Letter: But alas, what do I say? will not Feraulas tell him, that he discovered no signs of anger in my mind? but that he saw me weep, and blush, and indeed tell him that he is sure I love him? and perhaps that I loved him, before he had made me know he loved me? Ah Martesia (said she) this misfortune is befallen me, and it is in vain to hide my thoughts from Artamenes: he knows it (said she) he knows it; and perhaps, does imagine it otherwise then it is, which causeth him to conceive some criminal hopes, and to prepare himself for offending me: Alas (said she) whose misfortune ever equalled mine? I must pass away all my days in an unparalelled retiredness: I must deprive myself of all innocent delights, lest they should render me suspected: I must forbid entrance into my soul any thing that transcends not severest virtue. I must give resistance unto the Merits, the services and all the great Qualities of Artamenes; and my heart must not give itself up unto him, but at his Grave; yet perhaps, at this very hour, when I am speaking of him, Artamenes reputes that he spoke unto me so soon: and perhaps he thinks that he had been better entertained if he had spoke unto me the first minuit he saw me; and thinks this rigid virtue whereof I make such strict profession is but an artificial Cloak. But what shall I do? (said she) Certainly I do accuse him unjustly, and he is innocent doubtless: No, no Artamenes will interpret my tears in another sense: he will think that compassion only caused me to drop them: he knows that I do owe unto him the life of the King my father; and for that reason only I owe unto him my sighs and my tears; Let me be therefore more at rest in myself, (said she) let me be satisfied with mine own innocence; let me only take away from Artamenes all occasions of speaking with him in private; let me hide from him that tenderness towards him, which I have entertained in my heart, if I cannot overcome myself; and let befall what will, let me resolve rather to die, then to do, say, or think any thing which is not just and virtuous, and which does not give full satisfaction unto that love which I have unto Glory. Thus did the glorious Mandana entertain herself with Martesia, whilst my Master who knew not whether she had received his Letter or no, was more perplexed. Philidaspes all this while almost never appeared: he saw the Princess at his entrance into Sinope, but that was all, and whilst he went to give orders for those new Levies which he thought to command, and which were mustered near a Castle, about sixty furlongs from Sinope, whereof he was Governor. The Princess had more liberty to ruminate upon her resolutions: Mean while, my Masters hurts healed faster than the Surgeons could hope for. He was in few days not only able to quit his bed, but his chamber also, and in a condition to go and present himself unto the King and Mandana: He wished heartily that I were with him, that he might know what I had done; yet he thought it would be a long time before I came, for though he had sent orders unto me to come unto him, yet it was so far off from Sinope, where we were encamped, that without extraordinary haste I could not come so soon: So that being pressed on by his passion, and in extreme impatience to see the Princess, after he had been with the King, he presented himself unto Mandana, and went with such agitation of spirit, as the like was never seen until now; he was wont to approach with an ordinary reverend fear: But now, he resented all manner of fears that was possible to be imagined: The Princess for her part, knowing that Artamenes would come unto her chamber, did often change colours, and sometimes would be angry, that she was not absolute mistress of her own heart: As she sat upon her bed, it was more easy for her to hide the disorders of her mind from Artamenes, who as ill luck to him would have it, did find much company with the Princess. He saluted her with all befiting reverence, and she received him with all the civility that a Princess of Cappadocia could pay unto a man who had obtained for her so many glorious Victories, and brought her a King a prisoner; yet notwithstanding, my Master observed, that her civilities were expressed with so much reservedness, as that he sometimes believed she had seen what he had written: Doubtless she knows (said he in himself) what I desire she should, and which I fear she does not: Presently after, when the Princess had given him some obliging language or other; I am deceived (said he) she knows it not, and I dare not tell her of it: The Princess on the other side, she was very much perplexed; she condemned all her thoughts; she repented of all she said, when she commended Artamenes; she thought he did interpret all her commendations to his prejudice: and then she would be all silence, or answer coldly; yet she feared to disoblige him, and against her own inclination did repair that coldness with some slight civility. This visit did so pass, and Mandana carried it so handsomely, that Artamenes could not discover her true resentments, and he retired with more love, and more inquietude than before. At his return, there came unto him an old Captain of horse, who desiring to speak in private with him, and told him, that about three or four hours since, he met with a man on horseback coming to the Town as he was. He demanding whither he went, the man did answer him very surlily; afterwards falling into discourse of divers matters, they quarrelled and fought; that there were certain men came in, and parted them: But during this Combat the man dropped a Letter, which I took up after he was gone, in which there might perhaps be something worth his notice. Artamenes thanked the Captain, and taking the Letter, it contained these words:  
DO not fail in any thing which you have promised; and be assured, that for my part, I will not neglect to do what I ought: make sure of the Guards, which have engaged their faith unto you, as I will of the Soldiers which I shall bring unto you: Prepare men which shall observe respect unto that Person who most of all the world deserves it, and promise them such recompenses, as are worthy of their services. Moreover, though you have told me, and though I have promised you, that my passion cannot endure it should be you only that should work out all my good fortune, so stay for me, before you begin to execute your design: for peradventure it may so fall out, that when the Princess shall see the Prince of Assyria at her feet, she will forgive his violences, or at least excuse them: And as she is equally ignorant that Philidaspes is in love with her, and that Philidaspes is son to the Queen Nitocris. So it is fit it should be I which should acquaint her with both, as soon as we have carried her away, to the end that we may lessen her displeasure, by acquainting her with my condition and quality. He which brings this Letter is faithful: Trust him freely with your answer; and make haste, if you will oblige the most amorous Prince upon the earth and the most thankful.  
After Artamenes had read this Letter, he was extremely surprised: he commended the fidelity of the Captain; promised him recompense, and that he would make it known unto the King: and after he had caused him to stay a while, he gave him a very good horse, and a fair suit of Arms; then he dismissed him, appointing him not to be out of the way, in case he should have any need of him: After this Officer was departed, Artamenes did read over the Letter again: Oh heavens, said he, Philidaspes is the Prince of Assyria, and Philidaspes is in love with Mandana; and Philidaspes would carry her away: I know his hand, and I know by it, that he is not more happy than myself, the Princess is yet ignorant both of his Quality and his Love: Let me gather some benefit out of this ignorance; let me be faithful unto my enemy, and not discover him, lest in the discovery I should prejudice myself; his conspiracy must be defeated some other way: I must Put the Princess into safety by taking away his life. He presently sent to know where Philidaspes was: But notwithstanding all his care and diligence it was not possible for him to find him out. Some said he was in that Castle of which he had the Command; others assured, he was not; some said, he was rid out of Town for five days; and most said, they knew not where he was. Mean time, as Artamenes did not know the time when this conspiracy should be acted, he found the matter required quickness; yet it was a long while before he could resolve to acquaint Mandana that Philidaspes was one day to be the King of Assyria: He remembered that when he came to Babylon, this Prince was departed thence two days before; and he also remembered that he saw him in the Temple of Mars, the first day he came to Sinope: What shall I do (said he) against this dangerous Rival? shall I acquaint the King with this plot, without imparting it to the Princess? Or shall I go to the Princess before the King? Since the matter relates directly unto her, perhaps she will be offended if I do not make my first addresses unto her. Go then, Artamenes, and discover the whole truth unto her, and disguise it not at all. But what do I say? am I certain that I can be as good as my word? No, no, it is impossible? Can I tell my Princess, that my Rival loves her? and that he is one of the greatest Princes of the world? and that he wants nothing to complete his good fortune, but the consent of the fair Mandana? I that dare not speak for myself, must I speak for my Rival and my enemy? Must I stifle my own sighs, and conceal my own tears, and go to acquaint my Princess with the raptures and passions of my Rival? A Rival that is handsome, who has a heart and a soul, and whom I have often heard the fair Mandana commend. Ah No, no; I had far better die: But on the otherside (said he) the conspiracy is ready to break out, if I do not show that which Philidaspes hath written, but content myself only to say that there is a percious design on foot; and that he is the contriver, who knows whether I shall be believed? every one knows that we two are not very good friends; and this conspiracy has so little probability in it, that before I can persuade them it is true, and endeavour to prevent it, it will be executed, the Town will be surprised, the Princess carried away, and this happy Rival will carry with her all that can induce me to love my life: Speak then Artamenes speak for thy Rival to the end thou mayest transact against him: If he were in a plate where I could find him, I would acquaint him with my passion, and not discover his unto the Princess; and after that endeavour to leave him in a condition unlikely to carry any one away: Indeed I would do that which I am bound to do; he should die, or I would die, and so all our differences would be terminated. But, alas, he hides himself; he keeps out of my violence: I know no more of his enterprise, but as much as causes jealousies, fears, hatred and despair: I am ignorant who are his complices; I know neither when nor how they must act, I only know that they are designing my ruin. What shall I do unfortunate man? I lose time, whilst mine enemy is advancing his design: Go then, go to the Princess; Tell her that which never any lover but myself did or would do, to the party loved: Peradventure (said he) I may draw some advantage out of my misfortune by it; I may chance discover in her fair eyes, the motion of her soul, and see the secrets of her heart; and perhaps also, that after I have spoke for another, I may find opportunity to speak for myself: Go then unhappy lover; follow as thy destiny leads thee, and defer it no longer: Hope still, that in declaring the love of Philidaspes unto Mandana, thou mayest cause her to hate him; and make all haste possible lest he execute his design, and carry her away, else he will get her into his power, and there he'll keep her: perhaps he will win her heart, obtain his pardon, and for ever enjoy her. This last thought moved him to resolve, not to lose one minute more of time, but to go presently unto Mandana; and did so in all haste, desiring so much favour as to speak with her in private. The Princess did imagine that his drift was to speak unto her concerning his love, and therefore was offended at him; sending him word she was busy and he could not see her. Artamenes even desperate at this answer, sent her word the second time, that he desired to speak but one minute with her concerning something which related unto the service of the King and her, and which would not admit of any delay; Mandana wondering at this urgency of Artamenes, did think to deny the sight of him; but fearing that his business might indeed concern the service of the King,; she commanded he should enter, and commanded Martesia with another of her women, not to stir out of her closet. My master then entered, and not being able with his own mouth to relate the passion of Philidaspes unto the Princess; Madam, said he to her (after he had saluted her with much reverence, and presenting the Letter which Philidaspes had writ unto her) you will there find the justification of my importunity: Artamenes pronounced these words with such a troubled mind, that Mandana fearing it was some new device to speak unto her concerning his love, was in a mind to refuse it; but taking it afterwards with a trembling hand, and opening it with a blush, she was cleared of all her doubts, and she learned that from Artamenes, which she never did think to learn: Immediately there appeared much anger in her eyes, and my master received so much satisfaction, as to know assuredly, that Philidaspes had no deep share in the heart of Mandana: I am much beholding to you (said she to him) for giving me notice of so important a business; but tell me, I pray you, all that you know concerning the design. Artamenes then told her how he came by the Letter, and told her further, that if he could have found Philidaspes, he would have defeated the conspiracy, and never acquainted her with it. The Princess then thanked him as civilly, as the trouble wherein she was would permit her; and wondering extremely at this adventure; what (said she) will Philidaspes Usurp a Crown by violence & Treason, as I do imagine his design is? But that a lover should manifest his love by a raping way, is a thing without example, and above my patience: Mine I say (added she all in disorder) who could not endure a declaration of love from one of the greatest Princes upon earth, after ten years' services, respects, sighs, and submissions. Artamenes heard these words with much sorrow; and fearing to find the like, he interrupted her, and asked her what was her pleasure he should do in this business? I would have you (said she) go with me to the King, and acquaint him with it, and not to forsake me when I shall stand in need of your valour: As long as I live (replied my master) you shall not need to fear Philidaspes; and be confident Madam, if you please, that I will be no less solicitous to defeat his wicked design, than you yourself are: I am obliged unto you (replied the Princess) but let us lose no time, but presently go to the King: I know not Madam (said my master) whether my zeal to you will not seem a neglect of duty unto him, and whether he will not take it ill, that I have told you the rash enterprise of Philidaspes, before I advertized him; what you say (answered the Princess) is not without some colour, therefore he must be told you met with me accidentally, as you were coming with the Letter unto him, and so you told it unto me: Sovereign power (said she) is a thing so nice, so delicate, and sensible, that how good soever your intentions were, yet perhaps the King will not like your proceeding; so that it is not a miss, if you tell him a handsome little innocent lie, to colour the matter. Then they went to Ciaxares his chamber, and told him what they knew, and the manner how they came to know it: Artamenes sent to seek the Captain who gave him the Letter, to the end the King might understand from the mouth of that officer, the whole matter. Ciaxares knowing the hand of Philidaspes, did certainly conclude it to be a dangerous conspiracy; He himself remembered, and knew that the Prince of Assyria was not at Babylon, nor had been a long time; therefore that confirmed him in his opinion, that Philidaspes was he: But since the complices were not mentioned in the Letter they could not guess at them. The Princess and my master suspected Aribeus to be one, yet since they knew the King loved him, they durst not openly declare their thoughts; Mean time, Artamenes having Orders to do whatsoever he should think fit for the safety of the Princess; caused all the guards of the Castle and Town to be changed: and having caused all the Inhabitants of the Town to take Arms; he placed Courts of guard in every street: afterwards, he asked leave of the King, that he might go and chastise Philidaspes, but Ciaxares would not permit him to go out of the Town; and the Princess did so strongly oppose it, that he thought no more of it, since indeed, they knew not very well where he was. The six thousand men which conducted the King of Pontus, were disposed of unto several Gates and Avenues about Sinope; for it was not doubted but Philidaspes would make use of those four thousand men which were about the Castle, whereof he was Governor, to execute his design. Aribeus carried it extreme craftily, and after the King told him of it, he seemed to be very zealous against it, and blamed Philidaspes very much, and did seemingly most endeavour to apprehend him; since it was not known whether he was lying hid in the Town, or in his Castle, they were much confused: yet notwithstanding the next morning, Artamenes was so urgent, that he was permitted to take the six thousand men, and go to summon the Castle, to be surrendered up unto him, and also to fight the four thousand men which were there, in case he found any opposition: But he was mightily amazed when he came there, and found none in the Castle, and not a man of the four thousand Quartered about it: all he found was, that indeed Philidaspes had been there, but went out the last night, and that about thirty furlongs from thence, he disbanded all his Troops, and went with a small Company unto a Forest which was not far off: Artamenes went thither, and searched all about, sending many small Parties unto several quarters of the Forest to hear of news, yet none was to be met with, only some Soldiers which fled and knew nothing, but that long since Philidaspes endeavoured to get the love of the Soldiers; and that ere long he did intend to employ them upon some important design. Artamenes then seeing he could hear no more of him, returned to Sinope, to render an account to the King and Princess of what he had done: Mean while they kept up their Guards, and held an observant eye upon all those who had any Command of Forces in the Town. After all this Tumult and trouble, Artamenes being alone in his Closet, did recall into his memory, his last adventures, and to grieve at that extreme violence, which he had observed in the Princess mind, when she was told of the love of Philidaspes; what shall I do (said he) and what can I hope for from her, who speaks of the most puissant Prince of all Asia, with so much pride and disdain? yet (said he) should I have been more happy if she had spoke with less rigour than she did? for as she has expressed herself, I have no cause of jealousy, and therefore need not to fear the greatest torment of love: But alas, although she lessens my jealousy, yet she augments my despair; so rsince one of the greatest Princes of the world, hath declared his love unto her, and done ten years' services, respects, sighs and submissions, yet all this pass for a crime in her mind; what can I hope for, who has not a Crown▪ to present unto her? I who perhaps shall not be very well encertained by the King my Father, when I shall return into Persia: I (I say) who am such a one as I dare not tell her, nor cannot tell her unless I incur her hatred? Oh heavens! what will the prevention of this dangerous Conspiracy avail me? and why should I wish my Rival removed, since the heart of Mandana is inflexible, and so hard that nothing can move it? As he was thus entertaining himself with these thoughts, Chrisantes and I arrived, and told him all our adventures: After our first welcomes, and after Chrisantes who was more weary with the haste we made, than I was, went to rest himself; My master embracing me with a most obliging tenderness: What Feraulas (said he to me) is become of the Letter which I gave you? is it yet in your hands? or did you deliver it the Princess, when you came to Sinope, as I was told you did? Sir, (replied I) this demand, does call in question the fidelity of Feraulas; and you cannot doubt of my exact obedience, but doubt also of my affection to you: what Feraulas (said he unto me) than you have delivered it? yes Sir, said I, and she has received it: Ah Feraulas (said he) do not make me despair; and if Mandana told you then any thing which displeased her, I think it were good that you did not acquaint me with it; yet notwithstanding (said he, not giving me leave to speak) it is better that I knew the whole truth, that I may no longer trouble myself with an unfortunate life, and preserve an unprofitable hope. Sir (said I) you are far more happy than you think you are: No, no Feraulas (answered he) do not flatter me, and do as I did at first bid you. No Sir (said I to him) I do not disguise the matter; and then I exactly told him all that the Princess said unto me. I represented unto him her sorrows; I told him of her sighs, and that I saw a deluge of tears flow from her eyes; that she spoke unto me with extreme tenderness; that for his sake she would have me serve her; that she was fully informed of his quality; that I told her nothing but what was his pleasure she should know: and that if any judgement were to be given of esteem and friendship, by the sorrows which she testified; I assured him, he was then at a very high rate in her fancy: Ah Feraulas (said he to me) all that you have told me, relates only unto poor dead Artamenes: But who knows whether Artamenes living, or if Artamenes were changed into Cyrus, he should be so happy? He must hope well (said I) and I assure you, that I see great appearances he will. My master harkened unto all I said, as if a God were speaking unto him: and I got myself so much credit in his opinion by this welcome news which I told him, that from that time he did me so much honour as to acquaint me with all his thoughts: He caused me to repeat a hundred times over what I told him before; and he was so inquisitive, as he would almost have me tell him what the Princess thought, and what she said after I was gone out of her Closet, but I could not tell him that; for as yet there was no such amity betwixt Martesia and me, although truly it was not long after that I professed myself her servant, and became her confident. Artamenes then finding himself much more happy than he hoped, could not leave putting further questions unto me: sometimes concerning things past, and sometimes what I thought of future events: yet notwithstanding all this joy which I had brought him, sometimes his soul was not serene, but feared that Artamenes would not be so happy living as he was dead. And certainly his fears were not without foundation; for at that very time when I was thus with him, Martesia who accidentally did meet Chrisantes and me, as we arrived, went to advertise her mistress of it: Ah Martesia (said she to her) what do you tell me? and what is Feraulas going to tell Artamenes? I suppose (said this wise Princess) that to gain the love of his master, he will tell a hundred things which I never said unto him. He can tell nothing (replied Martesia) but that he heard you sigh often, and that he saw you weep, for the death of a man, who perhaps you would weep for again if he were really dead; I confess it (answered Mandana) but if he were dead he could never come to know my weakness; no (replied Martesia) nor ever acknowledge it by his services and respects: But (said the Princess) Artamenes will now know it by Feraulas, that I have done such things as are never used to be done but unto such as we love: 'Tis true Madam (said Martesia) but would you have Artamenes believe you hate him? he who has a thousand, and a thousand times exposed his life in your service; who has preserved the Kings, your Father; who has gained so many battles; who has brought a King a Prisoner, and who at this very time prevents a conspiracy which aims at your person: No Martesia (answered the Princess) I would not have Artamenes think I am stupid, ungrateful, and insensible, as I should be if I should hate him: But as I would not have him think I hate him, so I should be very glad if he would not think I love him: I wish that he should desire it without hope, and content himself with a great esteem and much acknowledgement. These distinctions are too delicate, and nice (replied Martesia) and it is not an easy matter to keep within that just mediocrity which you propose, nor do I think you can do it yourself: mock not at my weakness (answered Mandana) but help me to hide it in not forsaking me when Artamenes is with me; for I do confess I should be very sorry he should urge me to banish him: See Sir, how the Princess and my Master did both of them reason the matter in private: indeed the matter was carried, as she resolved it should, for during fifteen days it was absolutely impossible for Artamenes to speak with the Princess privately: she carried it so handsomely and with so much Civility to my Master, as he could not except against it: yet notwithstanding, he thought himself very unhappy, and not daring to complain of Mandana, did yet perpetually complain of his rigorous destiny: he knew very well, that the Princess was the true cause of his distempers, but he had ever so great a respect unto her that he would never accuse her, but when he could find no excuse, nor no other cause of his misfortunes: yet after these Fifteen days, though Mandana did very obstinately avoid all manner of occasions to be alone with Artamenes: yet fortune for all her severity brought it so about, that my Master found an opportunity to talk in private with her. The Princess, since the Prince of Assyria attempted against her (for we will no longer call him Philidaspes) never went out of the town to take the Air; all her walks were Confined unto Gardens within the walls, which were of no great Circumference. Thither she ordinarily went when the sun grew low; she was always waited upon by very many, so that it was impossible for my Master to speak unto her in any language but that of eyes: yet it was a language which she would not understand nor answer, for since the return of Artamenes she was very weary of her looks. So it happened, that the King would discourse in private with the Princess, in that Garden: every one, out of reverence retired to the other side: and as this discourse continued long so those who were not absolutely tied to wait upon the King did by degrees depart: so that when the King went out there were no more men left in the Garden, than were to wait upon him: my Master offering to follow him, and Ciaxares seeing the Princess alone with her women: no Artamenes (said the King to him) I will leave you to entertain my daughter, and to divert her from that Solitude which she is apt unto: This Prince was ravished at this Command, and obeyed it with joy; and the Princess who was extremely Surprised at the accident, Could not find any pretence to prevent it: she looked all about for Martesia, but saw her not: for she seeing all the Court in the Garden could not imagine the Princess would be in any need of her to prevent Artamenes from speaking unto her: So that she went to dispatch other business: There were yet four or five other of her women with her: yet they having received no particular command to keep near her as long as Artamenes was with her; my Master no sooner began to lead her in her walk, but all they stayed some ten or twelve paces behind: The Princess was then in that Arbour which is directly opposite to the garden door: so that though she had a desire to retire herself, yet she must of necessity walk that out: she would all ways begin to discourse, to the end she might prevent my Master in his intention, who being transported with passion, and invited unto it by this favourable opportunity, interrupted her, and with much reverence said unto her. If the poor services, which I had the happiness to do unto the King, hath any thing obliged you, (as you have divers times done me so much honour as to say they have) then, I most humbly entreat you Madam do not go away so soon: but do me that honour, and give me so much liberty, as to discourse one hour in private with me. If it be, (answered the Princess) to discourse concerning any thing which relates unto the King my father, I shall most gladly consent unto it: but if it be not, I cannot believe you have any such business with me as must be discoursed of in private. The Princess blushed as she pronounced these last words, and my master continued speaking unto her very low; that which I desire of you (said he) is more easy than you imagine, since it is absolutely in your own dispose, without implying the King's consent: But Madam (said he) why do you fear Artamenes? and why will you not hearken unto him? I fear, (replied she, that he does not know me well; and I fear lest he should desire such things as I could not consent unto; Therefore, if he will take my Counsel, he shall not expose himself to be denied. No Madam (replied Artamenes) my soul cannot be satisfied with that: I must either absolutely leave the court: I must fly away for ever; I must die in despair, or else the Illustrious Fair Mandana must hear me: I desire but this one only favour, I ask no more, and if you will be pleased to grant it, Artamenes will esteem himself most happy: as often as you desire, (replied the Princess) to speak in private, I do always imagine you come to tell me of some new Conspiracy; and that there is some other Philidaspes, whose ill design I must know, and punish if it be possible. 'tis true (replied my Master) that which I have to tell you, is not so far unlike that of Philidaspes, but you may guests at it, since that same cause which moves him to act, moves me to speak: But Madam, far from my thoughts be it to do you any violence: My thoughts are only to die: & I desire nothing from you, but that it may be permitted me to hope from your goodness, for some testimonies of Compassion when you shall hear your Rigour has caused my death: such as you were pleased to afford me when last you thought me dead by the hands of your enemies: This Madam is all the Favour that I ask, and all that I will present unto the illustrious, and most Fair Mandana: The Princess being much surprised at this discourse, would not give any sudden or tumultuous answer, but designing to satisfy her own virtue, without giving a check unto that Amity which she bore unto my Master, she took a little longer time for it; therefore seeing a green seat near her she sat down, and my Master stood by her, bending himself down the better to understand her, whilst the Princess women leaning against a Rail some seven or eight paces off, did talk together. As the Princess did fit, and Artamenes assumed again his discourse, she prevented him, and told him thus: I see Feraulas thought my tears very precious, since he would not hide them from you: and the compassion which I had for dead Artamenes, has made living Artamenes very bold: Therefore since I myself did contribute unto your fault, I will not treat you so severely as if you had not this excuse: And I think those obligations which I have to you, do require that I should not banish you upon a light occasion, but Artamenes, after this tenderness which I had towards you, and yet still have, you must repent yourself of it, and correct yourself for it: If I should repent that I loved you (answered my Master) you have pronounced the sentence of death upon me; and I will not defer the execution: but Madam this is a thing which I never did, nor ever can do; Repent at least replied the Princess that you ever told me of it: and resolve with yourself never to speak of it any more: Since I have spoke of it once (answered my Master) if you forbid me to speak of it any more, I doubt I shall not obey you, and my death within a few days will tell you of my passion: But Madam, I must tell you once, I must acquaint you with my love, since else perhaps you will never know it: I conjure you Madam not to refuse me this favour: Remember Madam, that you told me, he who has the honour to speak unto you, had the good fortune to be lamented by you, after he took upon him the boldness to write unto you, that he loved you: 'tis true (replied the Princess much disordered) but it was principally because you having never told me of it, I pitied you: Continue then in the same bounds and limits wherein you lived before; and I will keep the same dispositions which I had: But Madam, (answered Artamenes) I cannot recall what's past and I can do no less than I have writ: 'tis true (replied Mandana) but you may forbear telling me of it any more: Though that were possible Madam (replied Artamenes) yet my eyes and all my actions would speak it for me, and my death would presently after more strongly confirm it unto you, than all my words can do. Moreover Madam, do not think that I have rendered myself your slave without a Combat: I have resisted you as much as I could: and perhaps I had stronger reasons than you think I had to do so: I saw you Madam, and I loved you, though I used the utmost of my endeavours to the contrary: yet for all that, I could not break my Chains nor shake off my Fetters: and I have ever worn them with as much patience as respect: more than this Madam I have served the King, or rather you, since I never thought upon any but you: and since the Arms of Cappadocia have been fortunate in my hands, it must be attributed unto that ambition which swe'ld my soul to render myself worthy of your love: you know Madam, how I have Lived: you know that I never spoke one word unto you which could displease you: and I had not spoke unto you of my Love, but when I thought I should never speak more: I concealed my Love till, death, and certainly if I had not told you of it when I was thought to be in my grave, I had never told it with my tongue: But Madam, since your tears revived me: since the gods did cease those sorrows which you resented at my loss, by giving me life: why will you so cruelly push me into my Coffin? and why will you not afford some pity upon an unfortunate Prince, since you had some compassion on him when he was thought to be dead? it is because (replied Mandana) that the dead Prince did expiate his fault in Dying, and the Living Prince did revive his crime with his resurrection: indeed Artamenes (said she with a very serious look) I do confess that I much esteem you; that I have many obligations upon me towards you; & that your supposed death did much grieve me: but at that very same time I also declare, that I loved my own honour and glory much more than I esteem Artamenes, though I esteem him very much, and though I am infinitely tender of you, yet I would resist and overcome it rather than consent you should entertain me with a passion which will render me suspected: Ha Madam, (said Artamenes) how ill instructed are you with that love which you have procured in my heart? and how little do you know with what zeal I love you? Know Madam, that the purity of my passion does equal the purity of your own glorious Soul: yes Divine Princess, I do love you after such a Reverential manner, that I would for ever disclaim my own heart, if it should entertain any unjust desire. I love and prefer the Glory of Mandana before my own; and if I did find in myself the least vicious thought, I durst never be so bold as to speak unto her of love: moreover Madam, if my birth and quality had rendered me unworthy to carry your fetters, I should break them in giving myself a death: and I should never have suffered the fair and illustrious Mandana to have a slave unworthy of her: Oh, I wish to the Gods, that Artamenes did me it that glorious title by his own virtues, as he merits it by his quality; yet Divine Mandana, it is for the love of you that Artamenes is only Artamenes: and is so far from being taken for the Son of a Great King, that he passes only for a man whom fortune favours: But Madam, in dedicating himself unto your service, he ceaseth not to be what he is, to wit, one that ever had a great soul, and always uncapable of any unjust thought: Do not think, I beseech you, that I have known you so ill, that my heart can suspect you of any weakness; No Madam, I never could think the Princess Mandana was ever capable of any violent passion, yet I hoped that she would tolerate me and my passion, since it was not opposite unto her virtue; for indeed Madam, I dare sue for nothing else but only permission to love you; and to tell you so. You ask too much by half (answered the Princess blushing) and I should be unworthy of that innocent passion, which you do assure me, you bear unto me, if I should consent unto what you desire, and if I suffered you to tell me that more than once, which all others, except you, never told me without being hated. This exception is most glorious unto me Madam (replied Artamenes) but this prohibition is also most rigorous; I would gladly know, what crime I have committed since my return? You have told me that (answered Mandana) which you ought not to have told me; that's your crime. Then Madam I must have lost my life; (said Artamenes) for indeed it is come to that pass, as I could not live, and not love you, nor love you without telling you, nor be silent without dying. The Princess then was silent a good while; afterwards, beginning to speak, I must needs tell you Artamenes (said she to him) that you do extremely anger me: I do esteem you; I am much obliged to you, and yet I have much ado to forbear banishing you. Apply yourself I conjure you to regulate your thoughts if it be possible: esteem Mandana as she ought to be, than she will not be offended; but on the contrary, as she is satisfied by the secret testimony of her souls purity, so she does ingeniously confess unto you, that she is joyed Artamenes does value her, and perhaps that Artamenes loves her; but she would have this affection limited, and keep within its bounds: Then she would have that which is not possible (answered my Master) but that which is most equitable and fit (replied the Princess) for indeed virtue does prescribe limits unto all things. I have already told you Madam (replied Artamenes) that my passion does not contradict virtue: Time and your silence will manifest that (answered Mandana in rising) and by these two, I shall know whether the affection of Artamenes to me, be as pure as he saith it is: Why Madam, replied my Master, do you forbid me to speak? Yes (answered the Princess blushing) unless it be to tell me the true name of Artamenes. My Master stood amazed at this answer; yet notwithstanding after he had been a while silent: If I should tell you, replied he, you would not preserve me in your good opinion: and if I must die by your severity; it were better that you do blame yourself for the death of a poor simple Cavalier, then for the death of a great King. This was their discourse, when a great deal of company came in, and interrupted their conversation: and since the Princess was moved in her mind she retired, and was no sooner come into the Castle, but she went into her closet, and called for Martesia; she being come, the Princess chid her, because contrary to her order she had left her, and afterwards, related unto her what my Master had said, and her answers; but with so much inquietude, that it was easy to judge there was a great combat in her heart; and that how innocent soever the passion of Artamenes was, yet her scrupulous virtue was not satisfied with that discourse she had with him. She said that she should have spoke more roughly unto him, and that she should have banished him. My Master, for his part, did complain both of Mandana, and himself: he found himself nothing satisfied in his love; he could not perceive that she did receive his love very well, and though she had not banished him, yet he found no great concordance, between the relation of Feraulas, and what he did find himself; and yet he preserved some hopes, and lived at a little more quiet than he did before: he never saw the Princess, but she blushed; he never spoke unto her, but she received his discourse; and though all their talk was but general, and as it were interruptions, yet she always gave him some light satisfaction. But indeed (not to keep you too long with my relation) Artamenes behaved himself with so much reverence towards Mandana; and she did so perfectly see, that he had no thoughts but such as were full of innocence and virtue, that she began not to shun his converse so much as before, but sometimes to give him the liberty to tell her how much he esteemed her, yet not to dare openly to profess his passion. One day then when he was in her chamber, being transported with the violence of his love, and seeing none but Martesia with her, he did beseech her with tears in his eyes, that she would be pleased to tell him her true apprehensions of him. That which you ask (answered she, very obligingly, and with much spirit) is not perhaps of so small importance as you think, and I conceive I am not bound to satisfy that man so far, who thinks me not discreet enough to be told the true place of his birth, and his right name. Ha Madam (replied my Master) what do you ask me? and what would you know? Ha Artamenes (answered she) what do you also ask me? and what is it you would know? That which I desire Madam (replied he) is but of a small importance, for indeed, I would only know whether you hate me; whether you be indifferent, or whether, by good fortune, you have any disposition to admit of my love without repugnancy. That which I would know of you (replied the Princess) does not less concern me: for indeed, since you are not Artamenes, I ought not to consider you as such a one; and I may tell such things unto a Medean, which I ought not to tell unto a Scythian: How would you have me speak unto you, since I do not know you? Does it not suffice Madam (answered he) that you know my heart, and that you know I adore you? Not at all, answered she, and though I do know these things which you tell me of, yet that is not enough to instruct me, how to regulate my behaviour with you. So then Madam (said my Master) according to what I am, you will behave yourself more or less obliging to me; Doubtless I shall, replied she. But Madam (said my Master) of what Country soever I am, I shall be the very same you see me: So that, will it not be some injustice in you to hate me, because perhaps I shall be of that Country which does not please you? I do not say I will, replied the Princess, and I do promise you, that I shall always esteem Artamenes in my heart, of what Country soever he be: yet if you be (said she) of that Quality as you say, and as I believe you are, how is it possible there can be any such great mystery in concealing it: Speak then (said she to him) and tell me what you are, if you would have me tell you any thing. My Master being extremely put to it, did not think to reveal himself, yet upon second consideration, he resolved to discover himself: for conceiving that what good thoughts soever the Princess had of him, she would never manifest them until she knew it, therefore he resolved upon it to tell her the truth: I know Madam (said he to her) that in telling you who I am, I do run a hazard to be hated; but I do know also, that it ought to persuade you of the greatness of my passion, and will do more than all my words and services can do, since it is most certain, that if it had not been extremely violent, from the very first minuit it began, Cyrus would never have loved you. Cyrus? (replied the Princess in a mighty amazement▪) what Artamenes, was not Cyrus drowned? No Madam, replied he, I can assure you, he never was in danger of it. But is it possible (said she in wonder) that you are Cyrus? Yes Divine Princess (said he, kneeling to her) you see at your feet, the same Cyrus, whose life has caused so many turbulencies in the King of Medes, and whose death caused an universal joy thorough all Asia, when the fair and famous Mandana did thank the Gods for it, as pitiful as she is, and offered a sacrifice unto them: yes Divine Mandana, the first time that my eyes had the honour to see you, was in the Temple of Mars, and it was there where my passion first took resolution never to rise up Cyrus, until Artamenes had obtained permission from Mandana; It is therefore in you to dispose absolutely of my Destiny: He will stay in his Tomb, if you please; and he will come out if you permit him: for indeed, since you have done him the favour and honour not to hate him, it does not much import whether he be Cyrus or Artamenes, and pass as a common Knight, or as a great Prince, since most certainly▪ he has no higher Ambition but to be loved by you. Mandana harkened unto this discourse with much attention and astonishment. At the first, she knew not what thoughts to entertain concerning my Master, or whether she should believe him; but that doubt did quickly vanish, and she was so well acquainted with his high generosity, that she believed every word he spoke, and made no question but that he was really Cyrus: She considered with herself, that it was no harder mater that the world should falsely believe Cyrus to be drowned, then to believe that Artamenes was killed, as all Cappadocia thought not long since; and that it was no more impossible that Artamenes should be Cyrus, then that Philidaspes should be the Prince of Assyria: Reasoning all these things in secret with herself, she was a long time looking upon my master before she would give any answer; which did so much trouble my master, as not being able to conceal it; I see Madam (said he to her) you cannot keep your word with me, not to change thoughts of Artamenes: I perceive by your silence, that Cyrus hath disturbed you: Cyrus (replied the Princess) has indeed a little troubled the calmness of my mind; yet I will assure you he has done no ill office unto Artamenes; but on the contrary (said she sighing) but as I find Artamenes to be much more unfortunate than I thought him, so also I find more disposition in myself to lament him: But I pray, said she, tell unto me all your past adventures, and do not conceal any thing from me, which concerns the beginning of that life, whose after years has rendered him so glorious: My master to satisfy her, did punctually relate unto her all that had chanced unto him: He told her what Harpagus told him concerning the ill intentions of Astyages towards him; afterwards what offers Harpagus did propound unto him, how he would cause the whole Province of Paratecenes to rise against the King of Medea; he told her also how he refused his offers, and how he commanded him to make no more such propositions: He told her also how desires of Travel to see the wars had caused him to leave Persia, and change his name: In few words, he told her of all his Travels; how a Tempest drove him into Sinope, and how he was in the Temple of Mars where he saw her thank the gods for his death. It is true indeed, said the Princess, that I was with the Sacrificers to render thanks unto the gods for the loss of Cyrus, but it is as true also that I did never rejoice at his death: And that it did ever seem unto me much rashness in those who dare undertake to explain the Oracles, and the meaning of the Star so precisely: Can I believe Madam (said my master interrupting her) that the fair Mandana did not rejoice at the death of Cyrus? Cyrus, I say, whom Astyages would have smothered in his Cradle: Cyrus whom all the Magis were certain, should possess the Throne of the King of Medes, and command all Asia. And Cyrus who from his infancy has disturbed the tranquillity of a King, who has such near relation unto you. It need not seem strange unto you (replied the Princess) that I should not rejoice at the death of a Prince whom I knew not, and who never did me any hurt, since you had so much generosity as not to take revenge upon that King who would have put you to death: and (as you have done) to serve that Prince who had his life from him, who would have taken yours away. But Artamenes (said she unto him) for I dare not yet call you Cyrus, since you have told me what you are, I have not lessened that esteem which I had of you; and one the contrary, seeing I am more obliged unto you then I thought, I think myself engaged to acknowledge it: yet notwithstanding, I confess that I do not well know how I ought to deal with you. If I look upon you as a Prince who would not take revenge of his enemy, by reason of relations in consanguinity; As a Prince, I say, who in spite of all those reasons which might have absolutely diverted him, yet hath not ceased to love me: A Prince who hath saved the life of the King my Father; who hath a thousand and a thousand times exposed his own for him; who hath received so many wounds; Conquered so many Provinces; won so many Battles; took a King a Prisoner; prevented a dangerous Conspiracy; and who has long loved me, without telling me of it, or displeasing me: If I look upon you, in these respects I do confess Artamenes, that without any prejudice to virtue or decency, I could wish, that by the consent of the King my father, I might give you some testimonies of that extraordinary esteem which I have of you. But if I also look upon you as a Prince whose birth began with so many prodigies, so many eclipses which dimmed the splendour and heat of the Sun, who shook the foundations of the Temple; of whom the Stars have foretold so much; and all the Magis assures us he will be the overthrow of all Asia: I confess, I say, that then I cannot well resolve myself; for though 'tis true my heart tells me that they who did interpret the meaning of those things, have but ill understood them; and that if the Stars did foretell your birth, it was because the gods did presage unto men by them, that you should be a Prince whose virtues should be extraordinary: Though, I say, I should resent it so, yet this is not enough: Doubtless Astyages and Ciaxares will never allow that Mandana should dispose of her affection unto Cyrus: But Mandana (said Artamenes interrupting her) this same Cyrus who is so terrible unto all Asia, is now prostrate at your feet, and you may dispose of his fate as you please; To what end Madam (said he) to what end are all his Conquests which he hath made? Can it be imagined that he aimed at any universal usurpation, since he hath refused all that the King would give him? though I have fought, an vanquished, and conquered, yet doubtless he hath enjoyed the fruits of all my combats, my victories and my conquests; I am not so much as master of my own sword; but since you do reign in the heart of him whose hand doth guide it, you need not fear I shall commence any unjust war: It belongs unto you, Divine Princess, to order the destinies of people and Kings; and the life of Artamenes depends wholly upon your will: yet Madam (said he in a most submissive manner) if it be your pleasure that Cyrus shall not revive, he is ready to obey you: yes adored Princess, Cyrus who can disturb the tranquillity of all Asia, and has hopes to reign of a great and glorious Kingdom, is ready to renounce all his rights that he hath unto the Crown of Persia, and pass away all the rest of his days under the cloud of Artamenes, if he find any hopes that Mandana will not less esteem him. And if it be so that he must wear a Sceptre to merit you, choose you Madam, in what place of the world you would have him expose his life to get one, and certainly he will go: Things that are most impossible would appear unto me most easy, provided you will not take from me my hopes of your love; Say then, Divine Princess, would you have Cyrus revive? or would you have Artamenes live? or would you have them both die? I give you the choice of these three ways: Speak, I beseech you, and conceal not your true resentment from me. First, would you have Cyrus come out of his Tomb? I dare not advise him to that (replied the Princess) fearing if he should, he should enter it for ever. Will you then have Artamenes live, only as Artamenes? That would not be just (answered the Princess) nor advantageous for him. Will you then Madam, (replied he) have them both die together? By no means (answered she) for I have had too much sorrow for the death of Artamenes, to hope I should find any consolation in the death of Cyrus and his both. What then is your pleasure I shall do (replied he?) I know not (answered she) but I desire to take some time to resolve myself. But however Madam (replied my master) will you be pleased that I should hope I am not hated, whether you consider me either as Artamenes or as Cyrus? I do permit it (said she, and did rise) since it is not just I should be less generous than you are. Thus Sir, the discourse ended, which my master, as soon as he was retired, did me the honour to relate exactly unto me. Feraulas (said he unto me) 〈◊〉 did foresee that Artamenes would not be so happy living as dead; and it was only compassion which moved the fair Mandana to weep. Sir (said I to him, after he had told me all that I have told you) I do not see that you have any great cause of complaint, nor why you should not hope for more indulgency from that severity which the Princess hath used towards you; for she has not banished you, nor absolutely forbidden you to speak, she has only took time to resolve herself: hope Sir, hope well, and believe that it is very hard for her, after so many great acts as you have done, not to resent them well; and certainly they will plead very powerfully for you in the heart of illustrious Mandana. Ha Feraulas (said he) it is not good to be flattered up with hopes, but better to resent some little despair; If you knew (said he unto me) how my heart trembled when I expected the sentence of death from the mouth of Mandana, the first time she spoke unto me, you would have pitied me. As the state of things is now, I do not know whether I should still continue Artamenes, or whether I may appear as Cyrus; whether I should die, or whether they would have me live: I am absolutely ignorant whether I should be the most unhappy Prince upon earth, or the most happy: this cruel ambiguity must needs put my soul into great disorder; for indeed, it is brought unto that pass, that I must expect nothing else but either a most inhuman death, or a life full of all felicities: Artamenes added unto these, a hundred other contemplations, which moved me unto much compassion, and which did clearly let me see, that he did love, as much as it was possible for any one in the world to love. But whilst he was thus speaking of it unto me, the Princess was in discourse with Martesia, and told her all her resentments: Did ever any see the like adventure unto mine (said she) whilst I am praying and offering Sacrifices of thanks unto the gods for the death of Cyrus, that very same Cyrus is a witness of all my Sacrifices and Prayers, and yet for all this he loves me, and follows me, and is continually with the King my Father? He hath performed a hundred glorious acts which I dare not almost remember, fearing they should make Cyrus more predominate in my heart. Alas! Oh ye just gods (said she) why have you suffered men to explain your intentions so badly? and that they should believe Cyrus would overthrow all Asia, and sit in the Throne of the King of the Medes? He, I say, who does not employ his valour unto any other end, but the advantage of him who must one day have the Sceptre of Astyages? But Madam, (said Martesia to her) who knows whether the gods have not intended that Cyrus shall reign in Medea by Marrying a Princess, who, in all likelihood, if things do not change faces, shall be the Queen of it? If the Gods had pleased to have had it so (replied she) they would not have moved the heart of Astyages to hate Cyrus as he doth: And my dear Martesia (said she) that which you imagine hath no foundation, or likelihood in it; and I must absolutely forbid it, notwithstanding all the Merits, the Quality, the Services and all the Virtues of Artamenes, and not dispose of myself, but according to reason. But yet Madam (said Martesia to her) what do you resolve upon? and what shall Artamenes resolve upon? Shall he be still Artamenes? or shall he become Cyrus? I would have him (replied Mandana) seek out handsome expedients to appear Cyrus; not to be distasteful unto Astyages, to be protected by the King my Father, and to obtain their permissions to marry me; which if he can do, I shall not be any hindrance of his good fortune, and perhaps (if I durst say it without blushing) I would share with him in it: But if he cannot do as I say, within a time that I shall limit him, and which shall not be long; I must, my dear Martesia, banish him for ever; and perhaps, deprive myself for ever of all tranquillity and delights. Me thinks, Madam (answered Martesia) that this resolution is too violent; and knowing the virtue of Artamenes, and your own innocency as you do, you ought not to drive that Prince into despair, unto whom you are so much obliged. Time, Madam, begets alterations every day: you know that Astyages is extremely old, so that this remora will quickly be removed. No, no, Martesia, said she to her, I neither can nor aught to suffer Artamenes, after he has discovered his passion and his Quality to stay any longer amongst us: If the King should chance to discover it, had he not good reason to tax me with a Crime? and might he not imagine, that I have conspired with Cyrus to partake with him in the dominion of all Asia, which the Magis have foretold? What better way can you find Madam (replied Martesia) to prevent the too ambitious designs of Cyrus, then to keep him always near you? as long as he shall be only Artamenes, and as long as he is in love with the Princess Mandana, he will never make war upon Astyages; he will never assault Ciaxares. But who knows Madam, whether if you banish him, this Great and Heroic soul will endure your Rigour with Patience? Who can tell whether or no he will bring a war upon all Cappadocia, and upon all Medea? you are acquainted with his good fortune: you know his courage; fear then, fear I say to incense it, and do not you yourself contribute unto the desolation of all Asia: Take heed Madam, take heed what you do, and do not too rashly banish Artamenes. Martesia, replied the Princess, all that you say is very considerable; yet notwithstanding, that which I think is no less, and I had rather expose all Asia unto danger, than my own glory: For if this revolution chance to come, doubtless it is the determinate resolution of the Gods to have it so; but Mandana neither can nor ought bring herself into suspicion of a criminal intelligence, in suffering a disguised Prince to be in the Court; One who is well proportioned, of a great heart and soul, and moreover one that is in love with her. Ah Martesia, this ought not to be: Not but that if I do banish Artamenes (said she and blushed) I shall banish him with much repugnancy and sorrow; yet notwithstanding, in consideration of my own Glory, it is very requisite that Artamenes do not suspect me of any weakness. I have told him of such obliging things, that I do fear he will think more than I would have him, and indeed I had rather he should suffer, and that I myself should suffer, then expose myself to be less esteemed. But Madam (replied Martesia) can you pronounce this sad sentence? I know not (answered she) and I dare not assure you; yet I will strive with myself, as much as possible to hide from him that tenderness which I have of him. Thus did the illustrious Mandana resolve upon that cruel sentence which she was to pronounce against my dear Master; but since he did not yet know it, he still lived betwixt hope and fear: Mean time, the King of Pontus, although he was very well treated in his Prison, yet was he most unhappy; for since he saw the Princess out of a window, at his entrance into Sinope, that sight did renew in his heart fresh resentments of love, as violent as he was capable of: The remembrance of all those pleasant days wherein he had formerly seen her in that Town, did extremely torment him. Alas (said he, as afterwards he told) what good fortune can I ever hope for? ay, who during the time I was in this Court, and at liberty, never could obtain one favourable look from Mandana? what can I pretend unto who am vanquished, and clogged with fetters as I am? I do acquaint you Sir, with a few of the King of Pontus' thoughts, that you may not be ignorant of any thing which passed at Sinope. As for Ciaxares, he lived at ease and peaceably, enjoyed the pleasant fruits of Artamenes his Victories. Aribeus for his part, he transacted with much subtlety, and seemed to regard nothing but the managing of State affairs, wherein Artamenes would not meddle, limiting his employments altogether unto Martial matters. At this time there came news, from the Camp, that the King of Phrygia had not yet got any considerable Body together since his defeat: And there ran a report that Bythinia would rise, and relieve the King of Pontus; but this last news was not certain, nor had the prisoner King heard it, when he sent in the morning to desire my Master that he would come unto him. Artamenes who was naturally most civil, and who esteemed this Prince very much, though he was his Rival, did not fail to do as he desired him, after he had asked the Kings leave to see him. When he was come into his chamber, and the Guards retired, the King of Pontus said unto him: Generous Artamenes, you have so nobly obliged me with Arms in your hand, that I cannot believe you will do it with less joy now I am in your fetters, therefore I took so much liberty as to desire my Conqueror, he would be pleased to come unto me, that I myself might desire him, that he would be pleased to be my friend, my protector, and my confident, altogether. Since fortune only (answered Artamenes) caused you to lose your liberty, you have given me a Title which I ought not to abuse, and you offer unto me three Qualities, which I dare not accept of, since I am not worthy to be your friend, and since I have not power enough to be your Protector, and since I have not perhaps, all those necessary Qualities which might deserve the honour of being your confident: But Sir, without any further search what attributes you should give me, I do sincerely assure you, that any thing which Artamenes can do to serve you, he will do it with much gladness; for indeed you have obliged me to it, and perhaps over obliged me. The King of Pontus not apprehending the mysterious sense of these last words, did answer nothing unto them, but began to commend him afresh, and extol his generosity. Then when he thought he had said enough, to prepare his mind not to refuse him: Noble Artamenes (said he) doubtless you are not ignorant, that the Prince whom you see, is fettered with more chains than one; and those which heretofore he received from the Princess Mandana, are yet neither united nor broken, but much more strong and heavy, than those which your valour causes me to wear. Artamenes was much surprised at this discourse; but since the King of Pontus' mind was taken up with what he had to say, he did not observe it, but continued his speech: I know very well you are not ignorant, that I having been heretofore sent unto Ciaxares as a Hostage, during the Treaty of Peace, betwixt the late King my father and him, I remained in this Court six Months; That I fell in love with the Princess Mandana; that I durst not discover my passion otherwise then by sighs; that I departed with much grief: you know also, that at my return, I understood not only that my Father was dead, but my elder Brother also, so that as soon as my tears for them were dried up, and being then a King of two Kingdoms, I thought that I might without offence, pretend unto the Princess of Cappadocia: I sent Ambassadors unto Ciaxares to demand her in Marriage; you have doubtless also heard, how that Prince did deny her, because I was a stranger; he I say, who did not need to insist so rigorously upon that Law of the State nor observed it so precisely upon that occasion, since there was not a Prince in all Cappadocia, who was capable of marrying her. Since you know all these, Generous Artamenes, I will not trouble you with a more exact relation of them: I will only beseech you will be pleased to assist me with your advice, what I shall do in this unhappy condition which I am in: But that ye may the better do it, I will open my heart unto you, and tell you that I do most passionately love the Princess Mandana; and though I am vanquished, yet I cannot choose but desire to Reign in her heart. Tell me then, I beseech you, what I should do, and what I should hope for; and wheth● the illustrious Artamenes, can by his favour, his generosity, and his addresses find an 〈…〉 means to mollify Ciaxares, and bend the unflexible mind of Mandana, and whether h 〈…〉 can make me a Conqueror in my fetters. I do know very well (added he) that I d 〈…〉 speak without ground, and without reason: But what would you have a passionate amo 〈…〉 rous man do? who can have no liberty without Mandana; who cares not for his life without leave to love her: who cannot think of any peace having such an inveterat war in his heart; nor speak of any Ransom unto a Prince, with whom he can have no treaty without Mandana; I do know also very well that I am unjust to speak thus unto you, But generous Artamenes, if you ever have loved, you will lament me as much as yourself, and you will comfort me in my misery, though you cannot cure it. My master hearkened unto this discourse with extreme sadness and displeasure: He had a good mind to tell the King of Pontus, that he could never have made choice of a more unfit man then himself, to do him this office, and indeed to have told him the true cause, and by that means denied his assistance: yet not knowing whether the Princess would think well of it, therefore he would not take that course, and therefore against his inclination he was forced to dissemble the truth. The condition which you are in (answered Artamenes unto the King of Pontus, after he had a little thought upon it) doubtless is worthy of compassion, and I do pity you more in respect of the fetters which Mandana hath caused, then in respect of those which fortune hath brought upon you by my hand: yet since it is the Princess who gave them unto you, it must be she only who can comfort you: and you demand that of Artamenes which he neither can or aught to serve you in: Think not Sir, added he, that it is for want of Generosity which causeth me to do this; and believe, that if you did know me well, you would not suspect any such thing, but would acknowledge, that I do but what I ought to do: yet to testify, that I have a design to acknowledge those obligations which I have towards you, I do promise that I will endeavour to obtain an advantageous peace for you from Ciaxares, which shall be more advantageous than if you were not a Prisoner: and I will not neglect any thing which may obtain your liberty: But as for the Princess (said he) dispense with me I beseech you from doing you that office or speaking unto her of your passion: she is a Princess who makes profession of so much austere virtue; and there appears so much majesty and modesty in her looks; that though I were the greatest Prince upon Earth and sat triumphant upon a throne, and she before me in fetters: yet I think that I could not without trembling speak unto her concerning love either for myself or for another: so Sir, in that condition which fortune hath put you, I do not think it is a service which I either can or aught to perform for you. I know very well replied the King of Pontus, that I have done you wrong to move it: But Illustrious Artamenes, what will become of me? shall I die in my fetters without complaint? and can I not at least obtain of you, a permission once to see the fair Mandana? Artamenes was then much perplexed: for notwithstanding the high virtue of the Princess, yet Jealousy did seize upon his soul: he saw that the King of Pontus was a Prince, of a good Symmetry, and of much spirit: he imagined that this interview could not, but cause him much displeasure. Yet this first thought was presently corrected by a second which told him there was no fear of that: he told then the King of Pontus, that if he would obtain this favour he must send unto Ciaxares, who perhaps would not deny it. But Sir (said he to him) if you would take my advice you should not do it: for indeed, what will the sight of her advantage you? you will see her so fair, that perhaps you will return more unhappy than before. Ah Artamenes (said the King of Pontus) you know not how to love, or to say better, you were never loved? for know assuredly, that what all usage soever can be, how much severity soever appears in the eyes of the party loved: and how much cruelty soever she can have in her heart: what course Language soever she can give, yet the sight of her has some such kind of sweetness in it which moves delight: And I do not know, whether an ill treated Lover who sees the party which so treats him, has not some more happy minutes, than a beloved Lover who is absent from the party beloved. So generous Artamenes, if I can but obtain so much happiness as only to see Mandana, I shall be much comforted, although she give me not one obliging word: endeavour so, I conjure you, that Ciaxares do not deny me when I send unto him concerning it. I have told you Sir already, replied Artamenes, that I know not how to meddle with any thing which relates unto the Princess: all that I can do is to endeavour your liberty; and that, I will so ardently solicit, as you shall know by that how Artamenes would acquit himself of that duty and service which he owes you: and if he do refuse any thing else which you desire of him, it is because he has invincible reasons which prevents him; do you not consider Sir, (said he further unto him) that I am a mere stranger in Cappadocia? that I have no more power than what my sword gives me? and that this which you desire of me is a business which I neither can nor aught to serve you in? The King of Pontus, though he was most ignorant of the true reason, which moved Artamenes to deny him, yet did very well receive his excuses; and knowing that he desired such things as were apparently impossible, excepting the sight of the Princess which he hoped to obtain, he asked pardon of Artamenes for moving him with unreasonable desires, and as my Master told him, that he should ere long know by his endeavouring his liberty, that he would do all which was fit for him to do; this Amorous Prince desired him not to make so much haste; for (said he to him) I make it a question, whether it is better to be a prisoner in Sinope, or to be free upon the throne of Pontus, and Bythinia. After this Artamenes left the King of Pontus with much perplexity, and almost as much troubled as if Mandana had understood all that the King of Pontus had told him, and as if she had seemed to be much moved at it: As he went from thence, he went to the King, who bade him very welcome, and held him long in private discourse: the King told him, that he did owe unto him all the glory of his Kingdom, and did attribute unto him all the favours which he received from heaven. He discoursed concerning his own marriage with the Queen of Cappadocia: of all his entanglings which he ever had with the Princes his neighbours, and what happy issues he had from them all: of his good fortune to have the Princess his daughter, so rarely accomplished as Mandana was: then he exactly related all that the Magis had said concerning the birth of the son to the King of Persia: the menaces unto all Asia, particularly to the King of Medes: How Astyages was perplexed: how great was his joy when he was credibly informed Cyrus was drowned. But Artamenes (said he then unto him) you ought also to rejoice at his loss, and go into the Temple to offer sacrifice of thanks unto the gods for his death as well as we: for indeed since he had the stars on his side, if he had lived he would have disputed with you for a share in your victories, since he could not make himself master of all Asia, without being your conqueror. Artamenes blushed at this discourse, but Ciaxares believed it was out of modesty because of the praises which he had given him, therefore went on with his discourse, and repeated all the obligations in which he was bound unto him: I leave you to Judge Sir, whether my Master had not enough wherewith to entertain his thoughts withal when he returned from him. He saw the King of Pontus was extremely in love: but although one cannot love a Rival, yet this Rival moved him to compassion, though it was with much vexation. That which did most trouble him, was the manner wherewith Ciaxares expressed himself: and from thence he concluded, that Cyrus was not in a condition, to rise out of his Tomb, though the Princess herself should consent unto it: so that he was extremely perplexed at it. The next morning Ciaxares sent to seek him, and carried him to the Temple, where he saw the second time, thanks given unto the Gods for his death: But in lieu of giving thanks (like the rest) so unecessary and ill grounded, he rendered thanks because that same sacrifice for his death, was the original of his love: Imagine Sir, if any thing could be more strangely odd, then to see true Cirus under the falls name of Artamenes present at this ceremony. He told me afterwards, that he was often moved, to cast himself at the feet of Ciaxares in the middle of the Temple, and to make himself known who he was: but fearing the displeasure of the Princess he forbore, and stood dumb all the time of the ceremony: it was some Joy unto him, that Mandana saigning herself not well, would not be present and assist, she not having power to hear them speak of a dead Prince whom she knew was living. This feigned excuse of Mandana's did furnish my Master with a pretence to visit her: he went thither as soon as he returned from the Temple: and finding her upon her bed, having none with her but her women, who could not hear what he said, they keeping at a respective distance: I come Madam (said he to her in a low voice) to give you thanks, because you came not to thank the Gods for the death of Cyrus; and I come also to ask you, how long I must be ignorant, whether I must Live or whether I must Die? without all question, (replied the Princess) I would have you live, and I would have you live happily: but to tell you truth I do not see any appearance of it. Why Madam (replied Artamenes) am I worse in your favour than I was? No, (replied she) but I do not see that you are more in favour with fortune: for indeed, the sacrifice from whence you came, does hint unto you, that the King's resentments continue as they were; so that you may very well doubt, whether, maugre all your services you can without danger discover what you are, not that I ever observed those violent motions in the mind of the King which they say the mind of Astyages was possessed with: But my fears are lest, if you should discover yourself, the King of Medes should demand you of his son; and that Ciaxares should not have power to refuse you unto a Prince who gave him life: Let then unhappy Cyrus remain in his grave (than answered my Master) and let happy Artamenes live with you. The Princess hearing him speak so, leaned upon her right arm, and looking upon him, with a most obliging eye, though most modestly; The Gods are my witness (said she unto him) if I have not a greater esteem of your virtue than I have for any other; and if I do not retain in my heart, such an acknowledgement and tenderness of you, as cannot be but it must be accompanied with much good will: But indeed Artamenes, Reason must be predominate, and we must not consider so much those things which do please us, as those which ought to please us; and therefore although your conversation be most delighting unto me, and the manner of your loving me does give full satisfaction to my virtue, yet notwithstanding, I am forced to tell you, that if within the compass of three months, (and I doubt this term is too long) you cannot contrive a course which will be apparent unto me, you may revive Cyrus out of his grave without danger unto him, than you must return into Persia, and live there happily if you can, and strive to forget Mandana, lest she should disturb your tranquillity: But Artamenes (said she unto him, without giving him leave to interrupt her) to remove all causes of complaint, know that during this three month's time which I allot you, I will contribute unto your good fortune as much as I can, and as much as ever handsomeness will permit me. I will assist you with my best advice; I will endeavour to discover the King's mind; I will inform you by what expedients you may perhaps, gain Aribeus, who hath a great prevalence with him; and I will not neglect any thing which I can possibly and reasonably do for your satisfaction; if notwithstanding all this, the Law of Cappadocia be not an invincible obstacle unto your design, and that the quality of a stranger be not incompatible with the King's resentment: But when all is done, if both your endeavours and mine become frustrate, than you must (said she, and changed colour) resolve yourself for an eternal separation; and reason must absolutely triumph over all which would resist it. What Madam (replied Artamenes) will you banish me? and banish me for ever? Forbear your complaints (said she to him) until the time come, that there be cause, and think not yourself unhappy till you be so. To see (replied my Master) that you can resolve to make me so, is to be so already: for indeed Madam, if I were as much in your mind as I might be, you would have more indulgence towards my love, and you could not resolve to destroy for ever a Prince who adores you with an unequalled reverence, and who will infallibly die, as soon as he is separated from you. I desire you once more (said the Princess to him) not to vex yourself unprofitably; and do not mollify my heart until there be some need of it: be contented, that I am constrained to banish you, and that I do it not with much sorrow; and that I was not more displeased at the report of your death, than I shall be at your absence: But however Artamenes, Glory is to be preferred before all things, and as long as I do not strive against you, but rather to give you all satisfaction, you have not just cause to complain of me. Artamenes knew well that he neither could nor ought to hope for any more from such a one as Mandana; and though he ought to prepare his mind for it, yet he could not choose but be very much grieved at it: She knew how to comfort him so sweetly in his sorrows, by the heavenly charms of her conversation; that he preferred the evils which he suffered as a servant unto Mandana, before all felicity he could enjoy without her. He began then to follow Ciaxares more closely than before: He courted Aribeus, contrary to his own inclination, with more diligence, and neglected nothing which might get him a good esteem in the Court, so that though he should discover himself, they would not think of destroying him: And so it was, that he was universally beloved, and so much, that the extraordinary care he took did not create him any new servants, nor augment the zeal of those he had before, so great was their zeal already. In the mean time, the man who Artamenes sent to carry the Jewels unto the daughter of that Lady who mistook him for Spitridates, and who had so charitably entertained him, returned unto Sinope, who informed Artamenes that there was like to be a new war in Bythinia: he further told him, that he found the Castle environed with many Soldiers; and that when he had spoken unto that Lady, she was extremely surprised to see the Jewels which he had to present unto her daughter: That at the first she doubted whether she should suffer her to accept of them; but in conclusion she did permit her; That at his taking leave of her, she bestowed a very rich present upon him, and charged him to tell Artamenes, after she did with astonishment understand it was he, that the King her husband was endeavouring to put himself into such a condition, as that hereafter he might be able to retaliate his liberality; and to make Spitridates his son, who had the honour to resemble him: worthy of that resemblance: This man told Artamenes further; that in his return, he saw all the Country full of Soldiers, and that some of them had stayed him for some certain days, which was the reason he did return no sooner. Two hours after his arrival, there came certain news from Artaxes, that all Bythinia was in rebellion, and Pontus about to be the like; and that the King of Phrygia was compelled to retreat, because that Croesus' King of Lydia was entered with an Army into his Dominions, and that a great part of his Forces did change Masters, and sided with those who moved the people to revolt, and who in truth had much right unto the Crown of Bythinia. In conclusion, they knew Arsamones, husband unto that Lady who had treated Artamenes so well when he was wounded, and who took him for Spitridates her son, was in the head of a very considerable Army; and that if the King of Pontus were not soon set at liberty, and to take some course to oppose his Conquests, not only Bythinia, which his father had usurped, would be lost, but Pontus also which was legitimately his, would be in the same condition. It was reported that the King of Phrygia was about new Levies in his Country: but yet the reports went also that he would have his hands full of war against the King of Lydia: Insomuch as it was apparent that there would fall an infallible revolution upon the Kingdoms of Pontus and Bythinia, if they were not presently remedied. Artamenes, finding a good opportunity to oblige the King of Pontus, and acquit himself of his promise to him, and also to procure his departure from Sinope, where he was not very glad to see him, did beseech the King that he would not only give him his liberty, but also that he would lend him some Forces wherewith to reduce his Subjects unto their obedience. He represented unto the King, that it would be much more glorious for him, and advantageous also to do so, then to detain him a Prisoner: Since if it should so fall out, that he should lose his two Kingdoms, as very likely he was, than he would not be able to pay his Ransom; but would be either forced to keep him always, or else cruelly to deliver him, in a time when it was too late, and when there was no hopes to get into the Throne. Moreover, he told him that the King of Pontus was generous, and that obliging him thus gallantly, he could run no hazard of danger. In conclusion, as Artamenes was always very prevalent with Ciaxares, and could persuade him unto any thing he pleased; so, the King condescended unto his desire, upon condition, notwithstanding, that the King of Pontus should deliver into his hands, two considerable places, which yet held unto his side; and that he should solemnly promise, never to make any war against Cappadocia. Artamenes having obtained his suit, went presently to the King of Pontus, who was already informed of his misfortunes, but knew no remedy: He no sooner saw my Master, but going to him, with much constancy, though with much melancholy; Generous Artamenes (said he to him) if in losing the Crown of Bythinia, you had conquered it, I should not be so sad as I am; but that my most mortal enemies should triumph over my misfortunes, I confess that I have not patience to endure it without complaint, nor can I choose but much desire that liberty, which I have desired you to obtain for me. Sir (answered Artamenes) as it is my use to do what I ought, so I have effected your demands, and perhaps above your desires, for I do not know, whether I have not gone further than you desired. My Master then told him what he had done with Ciaxares, and how by this Article not to make any more war upon Cappadocia, it was to be tacitly understood, not to pretend any more unto the Princess: As this was reasonable, so he did not murmur; he grieved in secret without complaint, and thanked Artamenes very civilly for his Generosity: he extremely extolled this great Act, and thanked him who brought it to pass. If ever I come unto my Throne again, generous Artamenes (said he to him) I shall owe unto you all my glory, and all my good fortune: and I do protest unto you, that if I can conquer again the Kingdom of Bythinia, it shall be your fault only, if you do not as absolutely command it as myself: you are no more a Cappadocian (said he to him) than you are a Pontean, so that without offence unto Ciaxares, I may well hope for the same happiness and advantage which he hath: he hath nothing now to do, but to live in peace, and I am in a way of war, and for this reason, I believe, that my wish is not unjust, nor will displease you. Sir (answered Artamenes) I am much obliged unto you for these advantageous resentments you have of me: But Sir, if you knew me more particularly, you would quickly change your mind; and therefore since you know me no better, I will not abuse you in your error, nor receive those favours from you, which doubtless you would repent of afterwards: And though, it is true, I am not born a Subject unto Ciaxares, yet I am so tied unto his service by many strong reasons and obligations, that I can never be disengaged from him. After the first apprehensions of joy in the King of Pontus' mind were passed over; joy I say, for the liberty which he had obtained, and for those Auxi●raries which were offered him, Love then began to take a place in his heart; and he could not forbear some expressions and signs of his weakness, and in the presence of Artamenes, grieved at those great necessities which oppressed him: for (said he) as long as I am in prison, I do know very well, that I ought not to pretend unto the Princess Mandana; and that if I remain in them, I shall be still in the kingdom so by consequence, far off from any pretensions to her: But (generous Artamenes) in casting off these fetters wherein you have enchained me, I must also cast off those which I received from the fair Mandana, at least wear them in secret: and alas in hiding them they are not less heavy, nor shall I be less her slave: Artamenes did know well how to answer this discourse: all he could do was handsomely to divert it, and to speak of war in lieu of love: yet since things did very urgently require it, he gave orders for the King of Pontus' departure within a few days: and this Prince not being able to depart, till he had spoke with the Princess, and took his leave of her, sent to beseech Ciaxares, that he would not deny him that favour: Artamenes, who was present with the King when this permission was desired, had a good mind to oppose it, yet durst not: Yet he was much puzzled to resolve, whether he should be present at this interview or not: yet notwithstanding all the indisposition he had to it, yet he would be a witness of it: he was in much fear that he should not be able to restrain himself; yet at the last could not choose but go: The permission of the Princess, concerning this visit was asked; she had no great fancy unto it; yet Ciaxares having promised it, there was no remedy; but remembering his gallant deportment unto Artamenes, she resolved therefore to treat him civilly. The day of this Prince's departure being come, all the Ladies, and all the court, who were appointed so to do, did then wait upon the Princess: Artamenes was as diligent as any to be there, and doubtless as observant of all the passages in this interview as any. Since this Treaty between these two Kings was signed by both parties, the King of Phrygia if he so pleased being comprised; and all the prisoners released, also the two Kings sworn in the Temple to observe the Articles, and to live in peace with each other; the King of Pontus did not then address himself as a prisoner unto the princess, but as a free Prince: and waited upon by the officers of Ciaxares, as he himself was: this Prince was one of an admirable presence, and then very sumptuous in Apparel: The Princess, who perhaps would not have been so indulgent to him but in respect of Artamenes, was but very ordinarily dressed, nor did she need to be better, for she appeared that day so admirably fair, as that she quite darkened the fairest and most glorious in all the company; the King of Pontus, saluted her with much reverence, and she received him with as much civility, she would have given him the precedency, but he would not receive it? he took that place which was next the Princess, saying with a handsome grace, that it was not fit a prisoner of Artamenes (in looking upon my Master and smiling) to sit in the place of the Princess Mandana. Do not think Sir, (said she to him) that your Conqueror desires to change either Rank or Condition with you; he is too generous to desire that the King of Pontus should not enjoy all those honours which his birth hath Conferred upon him. I wish to the God's Madam, (replied this Prince smiling,) that every one whose fetters I wear, would treat me as well as Artamenes doth, for if they did, I should not be in that condition I am, to wit perpetually a slave, and unfortunate. I do not wonder (said the Princess) that all they which go to war, do not all take prisoners, since then every one must have great courage, and all be fortunate; But I do confess I think it very strange, that all they who do take them do not use them well: For my part I assure you Sir, that by my consent, they should not wear their fetters long, but should presently enjoy their Liberty. I doubt not Madam (replied the King of Pontus) but you are full of pity; but Madam, there are a sort of captives whose liberty does not depend upon the wills of their conquerors, and who are ever prisoners in a prison with out any gates, grates or guards. Those who are of that humour (replied the Princess) must patiently suffer that misfortune for which there is no remedy, & complain of none but themselves. I know some Madam, (replied the King of Pontus) which have been used to what you say, & without accusing you of those evils which they endure, & do prepare themselves to suffer them as long as they live: I should be very sorry said she, that so great a Prince as you, should have any just cause to complain of me, but if my memory do not much fail me, I behaved myself all the while you were in the court of Cappadocia, with as much Civility as was due unto a son of the King of Pontus. I do acknowledge it Madam (replied this Prince) but yet I make a doubt whether you have treated me as well since I came unto the Crown, as before, I would have you think (replied the Princess) that you have some cause to complain of yourself, since you have declared war against us; but I have much a do to persuade myself, that you had any reason for doing so. If I did commit a fault (replied this Prince) I have been sufficiently punished for it: I have lost several Battles; I have lost my liberty: and I am in a way to lose both my kingdoms: yet Madam, I should think all these but small, if I could but be so happy as to gain any room in your esteem: I know very well Madam, that since I have lost these Battles and appear but as a slave before you, are such things as seem not to merit that honour: But yet consider Madam, that the glory of my conqueror, does lessen the shame for my defeat, and though conquered and prisoner as I am, let me not offend the Princess Mandana; if I beg a little room in her esteem, since I must never pretend more unto her affection. Be not Madam less generous than the King your father, and the Illustrious Artamenes. The last of these did ask my liberty, and the other granted it: Refuse not then the favour which I beg of you, and do me so much honour to believe, that ever since the first minute I saw you, I have as much esteem and all the veneration of you than can be imagined: Indeed Madam, I adored you before I was a King: I did the same when I was owner of two Kingdoms; and I continued it also in declaring war against the King of Cappadocia: I did not repent of it when I was all wounds, and swum in my own blood; and I retained the same thoughts whilst I was in those fetters, which the clemency of the King your father has freed me from; and I shall ever keep them, whether my sword do win me my Sceptre again, or whether it cause me to lose my Crowns: and as long as life is in me I must love you Madam with a most respectful and violent passion: now you know that, Madam, which I had a most earnest desire once in my life to tell you: and which since told will make me die something less unhappy: since my love is well known throughout all Asia, though I never told it you but in the Language of my eyes; I do not fear that this speaking thus boldly unto you, and before so great a company, will offend you; and since I know that my Protector (said he in looking upon Artamenes) has some credit with you, I shall hope that in consideration of him, and after his example you will not insult over my misfortunes, nor speak harsh things unto him concerning me, since it is the last time that perhaps I shall ever have the honour to speak unto you. Artamenes hearkened unto this discourse with as much vexation in his mind as was imaginable: he looked upon the Princess; he looked upon his Rival; and though he could not perfectly know the thoughts of Mandana, yet he thought them something too favourable to the King of Pontus, and was often in a mind to mingle converse with them, although the quality in which he did appear did not permit him so to do: yet he was very glad to hear it from the mouth of his Rival, that he had never spoke of his love unto Mandana: But he was in some disorder to hear those high Commendations which he gave her, and knew very well that his love did render their friendship impossible. In conclusion, after the King of Pontus had done speaking, the Princess, who rose at the same time he did, lifting up her eyes and blushing a little: I do not know (said she) whether it be the fashion of all young Princes to colour their Ambition with a more gallant passion, or whether it be only a simple desire of glory, but I am certain that you do give me a great subject for my vanity, and a great cause to complain of you: For Sir, I cannot deny, but that it is very advantageous for me to be esteemed by a Prince who is accomplished with so many excellent qualities: and I must also tell you, that I have some reason to accuse you, and perhaps to punish you too, for speaking unto me as you have done: But Sir, (said she to him) I will take all that you have told me as I ought to do, and will be so far from using you ill, that I do protest it shall not be long of me, if you do not depart from this court, as free in your mind as in your body, and if my prayers would conduce any thing, to set you in your throne again, (notwithstanding all that is passed) you should not want them: Madam (answered the King of Pontus) I had rather you had hearkened unto my prayers, then to employ yours in my behalf, but that is not a thing to be thought upon, further than to punish me for my rashness in daring to love the most glorious Princess upon earth: After this, the Princess answered and he replied again, than he took his leave and went out: Artamenes knew not whether he should stay with the Princess or follow this Prince: he feared lest the King of Pontus, should observe his vexation, and he was apprehensive lest Mandana should perceive his Jealousy and be offended at it: So that to expose himself unto neither of these hazards, he went first unto Ciaxares, and and presently after, the King of Pontus returned to bid adieu. This word adieu, put the mind of Artamenes into its accustomed tranquillity, out of his apprehensions of Joy to see his Rival packing, so that he began to behave himself with much civility towards him: Ciaxares did treat him very well at parting, & gave him a hundred horse for his convoy unto the camp; & sent orders unto Artaxes, commanding the army to obey this prince, & to put a garrison into those two places, which the King of Pontus was to deliver up unto the King of Cappadocia. Artamenes, waited upon by all the Court, did conduct the King of Pontus a good way out of the Town; and although he was his Rival, and entertained some sparks of jealousy of him; yet this Prince, did testify so much friendship unto my Master at parting, that he could not forbear being much moved with him: Yet after his departure, Artamenes was in a much happier condition, than he could have believed: For since the Princess knew his Quality and his affection, and suffered him to see her often: since he had no Philidaspes to torment him; since the King of Pontus was gone, never to return again, he thought himself sometimes in the height of happiness; and sometimes also he was not without his vexations of mind: For when all was done, he must discover himself what he was, and expose himself unto the violent humours of Astyages, and perhaps unto the anger of Ciaxares: Yet notwithstanding, since the one of them was far off, and the other seemed to love him very well, the hopes of his heart were above his fears, and he seemed never to be so well satisfied. Now since peace brought joy throughout all Cappadocia, there was nothing to be seen in all the Court, but diversions, and entertainments; and my Master was no less frolic and gallant among the Ladies, than he was courageous in war, and prudent in Counsels. The King went at that time unto the pleasant Town of Amasia, which as you know is seated upon the river of Iris, and afterwards went unto the stately Town of Themiscira, where he stayed, as well because he had some business there, as because indeed the Princess did love that place. For as the river Thormodon, which washes the feet of the walls, is one of the most pleasant Rivers of the World, she took great delight in walking upon the Banks; and my Master had the honour oftentimes to wait upon her, and found fit opportunities to give her a hundred testimonies of his amorous and respectful passion. Thus did he live in much sweetness of mind, during all the three months which was allotted him; during which time he had gained him such a powerful esteem in the heart of Ciaxares, that he was in some hopes he might discover himself without any danger. He asked counsel of his dearest Princess, who hardly durst give it unto him, since she feared to expose him unto any danger that was so dear unto her: yet she forced him to take that resolution, by her often remembering him, how the time she gave him drew on, and that he must either try some course, or resolve to depart. There needed no more to move Artamenes to hazard all, rather than leave his Princess; Therefore after he had took his leave of her, as if she were going to die (being uncertain how Ciaxares would receive him) he went strait to the King, with intention to tell him he was Cyrus: and also to tell him, that the love which he bore unto the Princess, though she did not know it, had forced him to stay in this disguise within this Court. As he went unto Ciaxares, one of his Officers told him that the King had received some news from Astyages which troubled him very much, and that he had orders to go seek the Princess, to tell her she must come unto the King: Artamenes hearing this, believed that it was some people that were in rebellion, not imagining it could be any thing else: But however, he thought that day not a fit time to discover himself; and that it were more fit the Princess were advertized of this, lest being sent for by the King, she should be too much surprised, and imagine that it was because he had discovered himself, and so she might perhaps speak something which might prejudice themselves; he turned then presently, and told the King's Officer, that he should be very glad to conduct the Princess unto Ciaxares, since she must come, and desired him, that it might be his Commission to bring her. This man knowing what favour my Master was in, consented unto his desire, and told him him he would stay in the outer Chamber, and not show himself unto Ciaxares until he brought the Princess. Artamenes went then to her Chamber, and told her his business, letting her understand, by the way as they went, that he must needs defer the execution of his design until he knew what was the cause of the King's perplexity. When they came into his closet, they found him walking alone; yet he no sooner saw them but stopped; and addressing his speech unto the Princess. You had reason daughter (said he with an altered countenance) to absent yourself from the last sacrifice of thanks unto the Gods for the death of Cyrus, since all was unprofitably rendered; and if I had known then, what I know now, I should have changed the intention of the Sacrifice. The Princess and Artamenes both, were mightily surprised at this discourse, and thought verily that Ciaxares did not only know how Cyrus was in his Court, but also in his Closet. Mandana repent of those favours she had dispensed unto my Master, and prepared to justify herself unto Ciaxares. Artamenes for his part, he was desperate to observe by the Princess countenance, how much she was troubled, and out of his excess of love, he took more thought for her sorrow, then for all the danger whereunto he thought himself exposed. But seeing that Mandana had not power to speak, and that the King began to walk again, as if he understood that he had told them enough. Sir (replied my Master) have those who have told you that Cyrus is living, told you that he hath any ill designs against Medea, or Cappadocia? There needs no more (replied Ciaxares) but the knowledge of what the Magis (who are the most knowing men of all Asia) have presaged and told us concerning Cyrus: We must therefore (said he) endeavour to find a remedy against an evil, which is yet not gone so far but it may be prevented; and since the good or bad Fate of all Asia, depends upon the life or the death of one man, we must do all we can, to bring him into such a condition, as that we may be able to dispose of his life or of his death without any danger. Cyrus, as I understand from the King my father (added he, in stopping, and looking upon the Princess) is not at this present in the Head of an Army of a hundred thousand men: therefore daughter (said he to her) I am not much troubled at him; and unless I be very much misstaken, he will not do us so much hurt as is threatened. At these words Artamenes verily believing that Ciaxares knew all the truth of the business, was upon the point of assuring him, that he would answer for the fidelity of Cyrus, when the Princess interrupting him; Sir (said she to the King) let us hope that the Gods, who are the Authors of all goodness, will not suffer all Asia to be overthrown; but perhaps they will be so indulgent to us, that at a less rate than at the life of Cyrus, they will suffer us to enjoy the felicity of your Reign, in quietness. I will believe it Daughter (replied the King) for as long as Cyrus does not appear with Arms in his hands, he will conquer no Provinces nor Kingdoms: and though we should see him in the head of an Army, yet look upon him here, (said he, and embraced my Master) who we will turn loose unto him, and who I am certain will prevent his Conquest of all Asia. The Princess and Artamenes were yet surprised at what the King said, as much as they were at the beginning of his discourse, but yet they were much better pleased. Mandana who durst never lift up her eyes till now, looked upon my Master, who to confirm the King in that opinion which he had of him, Yes Sir, (said he unto Ciaxares) as long as Artamenes is Artamenes, you never need to fear Cyrus, although he were in the Head of an Army of a hundred thousand men; and I am infinitely obliged unto your Majesty, for that good opinion which you conceive of me. I cannot have too great a one (replied Ciaxares) and if the Gods had not sent you unto my Assistance, I should be much more than I am troubled at what the King my father hath sent unto me. Then he began to tell the Princess and Artamenes, how Astyages had sent him word, that Cyrus was seen in Persia, and a little after he passed into Medea, and that he went towards Bythinia and Pontus: How Astyages had again consulted with the Magis, who assured him more confidently than ever, that the subversion of all Asia would happen most infallibly, if they did not some way or other appease the Gods: Moreover, Astyages had sent him word, how he had proclaimed a Command in all places within his obedience, to arrest Cyrus if they could find him, and to bring him unto him either alive or dead; promising great recompenses unto any that could either take him or kill him: To effect which, he had caused to be published, the easier to know him, that he wore black Arms, that upon his Buckler was represented a slave, who seemed to choose chains, and refuse a Crown; breaking the last, and assuming the first, with these words; 
 Most Heavy, but most Glorious. 
  
Ciaxares added further, that he had already given order unto Aribeus to publish the same in Themiscira, and throughout all Cappadocia and Galatia, and to be very diligent in a business of that importance: You may judge Sir, in what a condition Mandana and Artamenes were in, and what different thoughts did possess their souls. The Princess was so impatient while the discourse lasted, that she was once in a mind to go out, and say nothing: She had no mind to discover that Artamenes was Cyrus; and it was so much against her disposition to contribute any thing unto this innocent fallacy, wherein for the security of my Master they were like to continue, that she was not able to answer a word unto any thing the King said unto her: But by good fortune Aribeus coming in to speak with the King upon some important business; She went out, and Artamenes conducted her unto her closet, unto which she entered without any company but Martesia: She was no sooner there, but looking upon my master with a most melancholy aspect; well Artamenes, (said she to him) Cyrus need not revive, but it is time that Artamenes were gone. This Prince hearing her say so, desired to settle her mind as well as he could, and to make her think that there was not so much danger as she apprehended: That according to all likelihood, he which was thus taken for him in Persia, must needs be the same Spitridates, for whom he was taken in Bythinia; and therefore he need not be so much affrighted at it, because very few Persians use to come into Cappadocia, especially any such as can know him; and it does more apparently seem he should not be known, since they take another for him: Although all this should be so (said the Princess) yet this is not enough: for Artamenes, I have thus long suffered, in hopes that you would find some expedient or other, to discover yourself without danger; and that I might be assured I should not be less innocent in permitting the society of Cyrus, than I have been in suffering the conversation of Artamenes. But now, since I see both Cyrus and my own honour in imminent danger, I must not long be indulgent unto you: Though I had but one of these two interests upon me, yet were I obliged to do so; but having both of them at once, Artamenes must, he must be gone, Tell me rather Madam, (said Artamenes and interrupted her) that he must go and die; for indeed, I cannot live unless I look upon you: Yes, yes Madam (said he) you have sound out an infallible way to deliver all Asia, from that unhappy Prince, whom the Magis say must Conquer it; and you could never have pitched upon a more certain course, to procure the tranquillity of Astyages: But Madam, I beseech you, be not you more inhuman, than he is cruel, in pronouncing thus the sentence of my death; he it is true, would have taken away my life, but it was in an age when I knew not the sweetness of it: Moreover I had neither served no● loved him; whereas you with your own hand do thrust me into my grave, after you had done me the honour to allow me a little room in your soul: you know well that I have served you, and have adored you, and do adore you still, and also must adore you, as long as I have any breath. Does the menaces of the Magis move me? and do you look upon me as that terrible Prince who must make all Asia desolate? But if it must be so Madam, that I must die, I do consent unto it; I shall make no doubt to execute your will: There needs neither any Irons nor poisons, to make you obeyed, insensible Princess: the resolution to bid you adieu, is enough to put a Period unto my sad days: No, no, my Princess, (said he and kneeled) this fatal word adieu, can never come out of my mouth without my life; and do not, I conjure you, pronounce that dismal sentence yourself, until you have considered upon it. Artamenes spoke all this I am telling you in such a passionate manner, and with so much violence and respect together, that the Princess was something more qualified: do not think Artamenes (said she to him, in raising him up, and causing him to sit down) but that sorrow which I resent in banishing you, will be a comfort to you in your misfortunes; What Madam, (said he interrupting her) do you think any thing can comfort me, after the loss of Mandana? No, no, Madam, it is impossible. You lose only the sight of her, (answered she) but does not lose her esteem and friendship, unless you will render yourself unworthy of it, by too obstinate a disobedence. But Madam (said he to her) though I should disobey you, you could not punish me any otherwise, then to let Ciaxares know that I am Cyrus: and though he did know it, they could but put me into prison, and perhaps sacrifice my life, for the tranquillity of Astyages. But Madam, be not deceived in this, for I had rather be fettered in Cappadocia, then Crowned in any other place of the world where you are not: And I choose rather to die by the hand of Astyages then the hand of Mandana: Mandana (answered the Princess) would do none of this you speak of; But perhaps she would withdraw her affection, if you should fail in your respects of her: Ah Madam, (replied my Master) is it a failing in respect, to desire the being near you that I might more adore you? Indeed Artamenes (said she to him, with looks full of much sorrow and Majesty) It concerns my own honour, and therefore cannot prevent my resolution: If it be so Madam (replied he) I confess you have reason, and the life of Artamenes is too inconsiderable, in comparison of so precious a jewel: I will die then Madam, but be not so inhuman as to hasten my death: Let me expire gently, and refuse me not the consolation, to enjoy the fight of you a while: you know Madam that there remains yet fifteen days of the three months which you allotted me; and take not the benefit of them from me, unless you would have me grow impatient, and perhaps disobey you. Artamenes pronounced these sad syllables so feelingly, that it was impossible Mandana could refuse his desire: but allowed him all his full time, the better to colour his departure unto Ciaxares. I do not relate all Sir, that these two illustrious persons did speak, during this discourse, not what they said afterwards during those days prefixed, for it would be too tedious, nor what my master said when he was in his chamber by himself. But let me tell you thus much, that never was melancholy comparable unto his; and perhaps the same in Mandana, though she concealed it better. Sometimes she would desire him to promise her, that he would never make any war upon either Cappadocia or Medea; and he would always answer her, that the most infallible way to assure herself of that, was to keep him with her. In conclusion, she wished him to love her for her own satisfaction, and she wished him to forget her for his tranquillities sake: but however, she was still resolved he should depart. The business depending thus, (and whilst Artamenes was with the Princess, Ciaxares sent to seek him. At the first, she had some fears that the truth of the business was discovered; and that the Kings sending for him was to no other end but to arrest him; for even that very morning Araspes arrived at Themiscira, and came from Astyages; but she understood presently after, that the King did send for him, to communicate some important business unto him. For Sir, be pleased to know, that Astyages sent Araspes unto Ciaxares to tell him, That it was absolutely his determinate desire, that he should marry again; because (said he) thereupon depends the safety of Medea. This Prince added further, that he knew very well the Cappadocians did not much care for having a King; and that they loved the Princess Mandana so very well, as that they were desirous she should be their Queen: But yet it was not so convenient for the Medes; for it was to be doubted that if ever Cyrus should attempt any thing against them, and show himself unto the people; the Medeans might perhaps submit unto him, and not think themselves unjust in so doing, since there was only a woman to reign over them: That he should therefore provide for a successor; and that it was very considerable, that doubtless they would never be so forward to steal away the Princess Mandana, but because she is a heir apparent, to be Queen of many Kingdoms; that therefore he had better lose one Crown, then be exposed by such accidents to lose two: That the Laws of the Cappadocians and Medeans are different: That the Cappadocians will not admit of a strange Prince; and that on the contrary, the Medeans will never admit a subject unto the Queen of Cappadocia to be their King. Moreover, upon serious considerations of all his allies, and with whom he should match, he conceived that Thomiris Queen of Massagetes, was she which was most convenient for him: That she was a Princess of an admirable beauty, of a great spirit and heart: That since she had a son of about fifteen years old, she must ere long invest him into the government of his Dominions; at that it might be supposed, that this great Queen who had been accustomed unto Rule, would be glad to find such an opportunity of seating herself in a Throne again: That her age was such, as children might well be hoped for, and such as might afford him a very happy life: That there was not amongst all the Princes his neighbours, one Princess whom he could marry: That some of them were his enemies, and the rest had no daughters. Moreover, although Thomiris had a son which was fifteen years old, yet she herself was not above nine and twenty: That the alliance contracted with that people, would be always very advantageous to him; because, although they be far off his Dominions, yet it may well be said that the Scythians are neighbours unto all the world, since having no Towns nor houses, but living always in Tents, they pass from one Kingdom unto another in an instant, as they have sufficiently demonstrated, when heretofore they invaded all Asia. So that to contract alliance with them, would be a way to make himself powerful friends, and rid himself from terrible enemies. That if, notwithstanding all this, he did not like of it, than he would have him find out some other way, that the Sceptre and Crowns might not descend unto a daughter.  
This Sir, was the effect of what Araspes told unto Ciaxares from Astyages. Aribeus who was present at this discourse, and in whom the King did confide; having secret designs in his thoughts (as afterwards was known) was very much amazed at it. Yet seeming to be in a profound study what he should advise Ciaxares unto, being thereunto required, he did approve of all that Ciaxares mentioned; fortified it with fresh reasons, and did aggravate those which Araspes had but slightly touched, and did indeed cause the King to resolve of doing as he was before advised unto. Not but that his extraordinary tenderness over Mandana, did cause him to contend with himself concerning this design: But since two Crowns stood in competition, and that if ever he would have the Crown of Medea he must do as he was desired, therefore he consented unto it. Then since Aribeus did for several reasons wish Artamenes further from Court, he told Ciaxares that Artamenes was the only man which could transact his negotiation of marriage with the Queen Massagettes, and bring it unto a happy conclusion: That he was furnished with all requisite qualities for it: That he was one of an excellent spirit, and great reputation. So that if he sent Artamenes unto Thomiris, there was almost no question, but he would bring about this match, which was so glorious for him, & important to the State: Cyaxares seeing much probability in what Aribeus did say, did approve of his council, and presently after sent unto my Master as I have formerly told you; and seeming more than ordinarily indulgent, said thus unto him; the Gods have not furnished you with so many different qualities, to employ them one way: and therefore because those excellent gifts which you have received from heaven shall not be idle; After all those illustrious subjects to make your valour appear, I will give you one which will try your prudence: my Master according unto his accustomed way, answered unto the civilities of Ciaxares with as much modesty as submission, seeming very impatient to know wherein he might do him any service; Ciaxares then told all the matter wherein Astyages had employed Araspes, and all that which Aribeus advised him unto, and at last, what he resolved upon: moreover he further desired him, that it might be his business to acquaint the Princess his daughter with the business, and so to endeavour with her, as she should not love her father the worse for it: for Artamenes (said he to him) I know that she esteems you very much, and would receive the matter much better from you, then from Aribeus unto whom she has no great fancy. I leave you to Judge Sir, how much my Master was surprised at such a proposition: he knew not whether he should contradict the King's design or approve of it, whether he should undertake the commission of speaking unto the Princess, or absolutely refuse it, and he was in such fear to offend either the King or Mandana, to blast either his duty or his love in so nice a conjuncture, that he knew not what answer to return: But since Ciaxares had done him the honour to ask his advice in a business which was already resolved upon, he said thus unto him: That as concerning his marriage, it did not become him, to meddle, or speak, or give any council unto a King which was so prudent as he: that as concerning his telling the Princess, he would do it, since he had so Commanded him; but as concerning his voyage to the Queen of Massagetes, that was a business which did not suit with his Genius: If I were to go and conquer her by force of Arms, (said he to him) I should then perhaps be proud of the employment as soon as any other; but since I must use only persuasive Arguments, dispense with me Sir I beseech you, from such a negotiation as I am less fit for then you think I am. Ciaxares hearing this his answer, thought that it did only proceed from his usual modesty; therefore without any more ado, he told him that he must prepare himself for it, as soon as possible. My Master not being able absolutely to resolve upon it, did not punctually answer Ciaxares, but without either refusing or accepting this office which was put upon him, he left him and went immediately to Mandana, with orders from the King, to prepare her mind so handsomely, as that she should not complain against him. As soon as the Princess saw Artamenes, she easily found by him, he was come about some new and unpleasing business: well Artamenes (said she to him) is Cyrus yet discovered? No Madam (replied he) but I may on the contrary very well say that he is but too much concealed, since they will needs put him upon a commission which is most unfit for him: The Princess being more inquisitive upon this answer, did press him to explain the Riddle; which he exactly did, and told her word for word, all the discourse of Ciaxares; he did aggravate the tenderness of the King's disposition unto it, in regard of her: But after he had told her, concerning the design of marriage with Thomiris, and the commands he had received to go unto the Queen of Massagetes, and transact the business, he set himself to observe the Princess, and to discover by her eyes, what she thought of such an extraordinary accident. But, as she perceived his drift, No, no, Artamenes, (said she to him) the loss of a Crown does not at all disturb my mind; and though the King my father should take from me, both the Crowns of Cappadocia and Gullation, as well as that of Medea, yet you should not see me murmur: I have a soul more firm and settled then you think I have, and they shall take more Sceptres than one from me, before I would alter Countenance. This, Artamenes, is not that true glory which I am sensible of: I value not those transient and vanishing honours which depend only upon Capricious fortune, and have no relation unto my own peculiar virtues, so that I can assure you, I do find nothing in my father's design, which troubles me, or which is not most Just: and I think myself extremely obliged unto him, that he should speak of any such thing unto me. All that you say Madam (answered my Master) is extremely Generous, but though you do carry yourself in the matter, as a most heroic Lady ought to do, yet I have great cause to complain of my own Rigorous destinies: I can see no cause you have (said the Princess) to complain so of your misfortune. Why Madam, (answered he) shall they imyloy Artamenes in taking the Crown of Medea from you, and shall he not lament it? he I say, who had rather give you all the crowns and Sceptres in the universe. I have already told you (answered she) that my chief felicity is not inseparably linked unto a Crown, therefore never fear that you displease me by obeying the King. But peradventure Artamenes (said she to him with half a smile) we are not both of one humour, perhaps I say, that Mandana having one Crown fewer than she had before, she will not seem the same in your eye, as she did before: Oh Madam (cried out my master, and interrupting her) do you know well what you say? is it possible that the Princess Mandana can so innocently descant upon so nice a matter? or can you so easily part from a Crown? yes Madam, (said he) it seems you can; but certainly they can never do it without injustice: yet Madam, since you have pronounced those cruel words, I will obey the King and negotiate with as much care to take the Crown from you, as I ought in all reason to endeavour the conquest of it for you: yet, Madam, you have done me wrong in saying so unto me: to me, I say, who has built all my considerations upon your fairest Face and divinest Soul, and who never regarded your Crowns but only as ornaments much inferior to your virtue. Yes Divinest Princess (added he further) although you were as far off from a throne, as you are near it, yet I should be the very same unto you: I care not at all, for knowing that you are to command Sceptres, it suffices me to know that you deserve them, and leave the rest unto my valour: If I have said any thing, which expresseth an unwillingness to take the Crown of Medea from you, it is because I cannot transact against you: my own resentments would certainly rise up against me, if I should entertain such a thought; and on the contrary, all the motions and faculties of my heart with a full consent of my reason and my will, are dedicated unto your service. The Princess, seeing that Artamenes was so apprehensive of a small injury, did repent, she did it, and to appease him, Artamenes (said she to him) if it be so (as I do believe it is) that the virtue of Mandana is it which you do love best in her, this voyage which they impose upon you ought rather to Joy then Displease you: for indeed, to speak sincerely unto you, it was rather the hopes of my being Queen of Medea, then of being Queen of Cappadocia which causeth them to deny me unto those who pretend unto me: for although that the law which they insist so much upon to Authorise their denial, be really the custom of the country; yet since there is not at this present any Prince in all Cappadocia, fit to marry me, that law may perhaps admit of some exposition, to the contrary, and so in taking the Crown of Medea from me, they have removed from you one great Remora; and since I shall, nor can be, but only Queen of Cappadocia, it will not be so difficult for you to obtain the King's consent unto your desires, provided he can suffer you to be Cyrus. But Madam (said my Master then) when is it your pleasure I should put it to the hazaard? At your return (replied she) and I suppose the Queen of Massagettes, will not deny you her assistance, after you have brought her into the Throne of Medea: Also, (said she to him) you have the advantage to depart without my banishment: and I shall have that comfort, that in leaving me, you will not grieve for me: Oh Madam (replied he) I shall not be the happier, for absence is so great an evil unto those who know truly how to love, that what occasion soever it be which separats them from the party beloved, they are all one unhappy: And Madam how can I be certain, that the King of Assyria will not attempt any thing against you? you know he has secret intelligence in the Court which we cannot discover: you know what he has already attempted; How then Madam, would you have me to expose myself against this great danger which may and does threaten my life? It may be hoped (answered she) that the bad success of his first design, will repulse the second: I must take care to prevent them if he have any such designs: and I do assure you they shall be all in vain; And since staying or departing is not in your choice nor mine, though this accident of absence had not happened you must be contented; and you know I always told you, that it was my resolution you should be gone: Therefore Artamenes, obey the King, and leave the future success unto the Gods. In conclusion Sir, Artamenes resolved to depart: Ciaxares did press it and prepared for him the greatest and most magnificent equipage, that ever was heard of before in Cappadocia: He received orders not to propound the business which he was to negotiate at the first address unto Thomiris, for Ciaxares would not expose himself unto a denial: But since there was some Pirates, which had seized upon many merchant's ships which appertained unto Cappadocia in the Caspian Sea, and that there was a kind of a little maritine war, betwixt the Cappadocians and these Pirates who belonged unto the Country of Massagettes, this was to be the pretence of his negotiation, though really it was indeed to treat secretly of a marriage between Thomiris and Ciaxares. I will not stand to relate unto you all the farewells which the King and all the Court did give unto my Master. Aribeus himself seemed to be more a friend unto him then ordinary: and Artamenes had all outward incitements to be well satisfied with him; yet for all this, Artamenes had such turbulent vexations in the secret of his heart, as did much disturb him; for ever since Philidaspes (or to say better, the king of Assyria) vanished, there was no news heard of him: They did understand that he was not yet returned unto Babylon, & that the queen Nicrocris was much perplexed at his long absence: Sometimes Artamenes could hardly persuade himself that Philidaspes was the same he said he was; and sometimes again he did not doubt it at all. But at the last, all his Equipage and Retinue, being ready, depart he must, and bid adieu unto the Princess. I was never more strongly persuaded, then upon this occasion, that the Gods do sometimes impart unto men, such resentments of things which shall succeed unto them in the future: For my Master was so sunk with sorrows to leave Mandana, and the Princess though very well versed in overcoming her own passions, seemed to be so troubled, that if they had certainly known they should never have seen one another again, they could not have been more sad. This farewell, as you may well think, was taken without any other witnesses then the faithful Martesia, with whom I had already contracted a great league of friendship. The compliment was not long, and their discourse was rather silence than words. That sorrow which appeared in the eyes of Artamenes, was all the eloquence he used to desire the Princess not to forget him: and that grief which he saw set in the eyes of Mandana, was almost all the favour that he received from her at parting: Shall I Madam (said he to her) believe my own eyes? will you permit me to think that I have some share in that melancholy which I see in yours? Yes Artamenes (answered she) I do permit it; and I should be sorry if you do not think that there is more in my heart than you can see in my face. There needed no more than this to revive my Master, if he had been dead: and I think also Sir, that there needed no more than his apprehension of sorrow and joy, to make him die. These two opposite resentments caused so much disorder in his soul, that he was dumb, and almost lost his reason. He left the Princess, and spoke not a word unto her, but looking as long as he could after her, he went out and took horse, not knowing who was with him, nor what way he took, nor indeed what he did himself think upon: Thus did the first day's journey pass on; the second was not less melancholy, and all the rest were like them; and from the Town of Themiscira, until he came to the banks of Araxes (that famous River which borders the Kingdom of Massagettes) I verily believe my Master knew not which way he took. He knew not, I say, whether we went thorough the Province of Aspires, or thorough Colchides, or went over the high Mountains: In short, I verily think, he knew not whether he was upon Sea or Land, or whether he went over dry Forests, or marish Rivers: he was so entirely taken up with his passion and melancholy, all the whole voyage, which was very long, that he observed not at all any of these pleasant objects. Being at length come to the side of the River Araxes, we passed over a bridge of Boats, which were placed there for the conveniency of Passengers; and we began (if I may so term it) to enter into a new world: For Sir, we saw no more Towns, nor Villages, nor Houses, nor Temples: And all that vast Country, from the banks of Araxes unto that part which adjoins unto the Issedonians, is nothing but a great huge Plain, intermixed with little Hills, which are extremely delightful. This so new an object did a little expel the melancholy of Artamenes, and moved him to observe with much delight, that all these plains, and all these hills, were adorned with a hundred thousand several scents, differing in their forms, in their bigness, and in their colour: Two or three hundred of them might be seen in one place; thirty or forty in another; and some standing by themselves, separated from all the rest: there also might be seen abundance of selded up Pavilions, which the people used principally in their wars. There were also Chariots loaded with magnificent Canopies, under which they might shield themselves from violent Rains, and Winds, and also be an Umbrage unto them, from the overheat of the Sun: An infinite number of Troops might be seen passing thorough these plains, and added much delight unto so wonderful a spectacle. Artamenes then after he had much admired their variety of customs, passed on towards the Tent Royal, for so in that Country do they use to call the place where the Court resides. These Tents do often change and remove from place to place, according to the seasons of the year; although they do most commonly pitch them near the banks of Araxes, by reason of the commodities which that great and pleasant River does bring unto them. When we came thither, we had two whole days journey through the Country of the Massagetes, before we could come unto the place where the Queen was. But Sir, to tell you truth, this voyage did afford us abundance of diversions; and the sight of so many uncouth things would not suffer us to be weary: Moreover, the people though mixed with many which were not native Scythians, were not mean and poor in their habit; but on the contrary, they are all very rich, stately, and magnificent: for their Country does abound in Gold and Copper, and they make great use of those two metals; but very seldom or never any Iron or Silver, because indeed they have them not: So that their Lances, Spears, their Quivers, their Bows, their Arrows, their suits of Arms, their Belts, their Swords, their Bridles, their Bits, and all furniture belonging to Horses; and a thousand other things which would be too tedious to relate, are all of pure gold, or at the least guilt with gold: So that every thing did make a very magnificent show. We understood in our passage that the Queen's Son, called Spargapises, was not then with her, but that he was gone with Ariantus, brother unto Thomiris, towards those Provinces which lie towards the Mountain Imaus, which as you know does divide the two Scythians. Yet notwithstanding this absence, we found the Court extremely full: for since Spargapises was but fifteen years old, and Aritanus was not popular in that Country, all did adhere unto the Queen, who for a long time had the government of all, and who truly was a woman of very great qualities, though she had some, which it were to be wished she had not: we also understood that there were two stranger Princes within that Court: One of them was Prince of the Tauroscites, called Indathirses, and Nephew unto a famous Scythian whose name was Anacharsis, who was then in travel: The other was called Aripithes, Prince of the Sauromates; So that, as we understood, these two Princes did render the Court more illustrious than ordinary. At last Sir, we discovered the Tents Royal a far off, or to phrase it more rightly, The goodliest Town in the world; being most certain that never eye beheld one more magnificent: It was in extent above five and twenty furlongs square, full of large streets, of orderly erected Tents in an even proportion: The mixture of colours was judiciously observed: Purple, gilt, white and blue, were mingled in such a confusion, out of which one might find a rare regularity: Every Tent had upon the top, great bosses of Gold or Copper, with waving flags in them: In divers places of the Town (if I may term it so) one might see some Pavilions, much higher than the rest, which looked like our magnificent Temples and Palaces in our Towns: In the midst of all was the Pavilion of Thomiris; very remarkable for its beauty, prodigious for its largeness, and admirable for the Royal Ensigns which spired upon the top of this stately Tent: When we were come within fifteen or sixteen furlongs of it, there appeared a great body of Cavalry, in the head of which was one of the most considerable men of all the Massagetes, who came from the Queen to receive my Master: for as soon as we were passed over the River Araxes, she was advertised, that an Ambassador from Ciaxares, called Artamenes was entered in her Dominions: So that at the name of Ciaxares, and Artamenes, she sent one of the best quality, waited upon by many others to receive him: The first compliments being performed, we continued on our way, and when we came near it, we perceived this great square of Tents, was enclosed with painted and guilded Rails, and guarded by Soldiers of a very handsome garb: We perceived also, that there was a little River, which did divide itself into two arms; the one where of passed all along the outside of this movable Town, and the other ran through the midst, joining again a little below this Town as before: We perceived that the Queen's Pavilion, was in the midst of a great quadrangle, unto which four great streets did open, with guards on every side this Angle. In conclusion, they conducted my master into a very stately Tent, which was appointed for the Ambassadors of all strange Kings. Since the Train an Equipage of Artamenes was very great and magnificent, the people had no less curiosity to guard us, than we had to behold them. For the Medean habit is much more glorious than any other part of Asia: And Ciaxares was pleased that our garments should be after the Medean fashion, all embroidered with Gold, and Artamenes with Pearl: We arrived about noon time, and rested ourselves all the rest of the day; It was the next morning before Thomiris admitted Audience unto my Master. I had forgot to tell you, that, in sending to meet Artamenes, Thomiris sent an Interpreter, who was well versed in all the Asiatic Languages: But my Master had no need of him, for she understood the Assyrian Language, which of all others is the most universal, and which Artamenes also understood very well, because it much resembled that of Cappadocia: So that my Master being advertised that she understood this Language, he prepared himself to address himself to her in it; although he presented his first compliment in the Cappadocian tongue, because he would observe ceremonies, and render the due respect unto the King who sent him. The hour of Audience being come, many of the Queen's officers came to wait upon my Master, and conduct him unto her, where both the Princes which I named unto you, and all that had any grandeur or beauty either in men or women, did rendezvous to see this Ambassador, of whom such brave reports was divulged; though in that place they could not judge of his handsomeness. They carried us through three several chambers very richly hanged, before we came unto the place where she was: But when we entered into that, I do confess I was a little amazed; and I had much ado to persuade myself, but that I was rather at Babylon, at Ecbatan, at Themiscira, at Amasia, or at Sinope, then in a Camp of the Massagetes; such magnificence and grandeur did I behold. All the Chamber was hanged with Tyrian Purple, richly embroidered with massy gold, in which was represented divers stories of their preceding Kings: There we beheld at the top of the Chamber, a hundred Lamps of gold, beset with precious stones: The Queen was upon a Throne which was raised three steps higher, hung with cloth of gold, and a Canopy of the same, both of them adorned with massy gold plate: There was at the foot of the Throne, a little Rail and balister of gold, which did distinguish & separate the Queen from all the rest which waited upon her: All the Ladies richly dressed, did sit on both sides this Throne upon Cushions of purple, Laced with gold, and all the men stood behind them: Thomiris did wear that day a Robe and Mantle after the Egyptian mode, which seemed to be negligently cast about her, yet was very Majestical, both of them were of gold Tissue, sewed with silks of divers colours: For the mourning of widows amongst the Massagetes never last above the first year: her dress upon her head was high behind, from whence hung down a Cypress which reached down as low as the earth, and then turned up again to her shoulders, and there was fastened: waving loosely with a great plume of feathers on her head. Her hair was flaxen, and half negligently loose: her neck was smooth and white, half covered with a transparent Tiffiny, which was very ornamental unto the rest of her habit: I forgot to tell you, that her gown was tacked up on the right side with a clasp of precious stones, which caused to be seen that it was lined with Tiger's fur, much spotted and admirably handsome; her Buskins were of cloth of gold, lined with the same fur, and tacked up by the head of a Lion, whose eyes were Rubies: Indeed it may well be said that the dress of Thomiris was an ornament unto her beauty, as her beauty was an ornament unto her dress: This Princess who indeed was nine and twenty years old, seemed not to exceed twenty: she was of a good stature, and a little above the ordinary size; her garb was high, but proud withal, her eyes fair but full of fire: her colour so pure, so lively, and so fresh, as if she were in the spring of youth: In a word, she had a handsome mouth, white teeth fair hands good arms and a handsome plumpness. I saw Thomiris then to be a fair Princess; and my Master as prepossessed as he was, did afterwards confess, that except Mandana (who without all question was infinitely more accomplished) he had never seen a more sprightly beauty than her. This Queen did rise as soon as she saw my Master, and descended unto the first step of her Throne: That Rail of gold which they opened in the midst, caused my Master to advance to the foot of the Throne, and setting his foot upon the first step, and kissing her robe, he presented unto her a box, all covered with Diamonds, in which the Letter from Ciaxares was enclosed: Telling her in few words, and those in the Cappadocian Language, the cause of his Embassy: She answered him in the same tongue, but very little; and taking the box, she gave it unto the Interpreter: After this, she sat down in her Throne, and my master did sit in that place which was appointed for him on the right hand of the Throne, without the rail: You know Sir, that these kind of dispatches, are only Letters of Credence, and serve only to authorise him who brings them: And that at the first Audience they never use to speak concerning the depth of their business. After then the Letters of Credence were read, and interpreted unto the Queen, and that every one began to speak in the Language of his own Country; Artamenes much wondered to hear Thomiris say unto him in the Assyrian Tongue, I am not a little obliged unto the King of Cappadocia, for making me acquainted with a man, whose reputation has begot in me so great a curiosity: do not think (said she to him) but fame can fly over Araxes, and tell us of your Acts done in all places where you came: you must know that she travels over the seas, and believe it she is welcome when she reports your honour, yes renowned Artamenes, (added she) we knew you before we saw you: your name came before you, and our esteem of you preceded your Arrival. I fear Madam (answered my Master unto her in the same language which she spoke) lest I myself should destroy that glorious esteem, and do but an ill office unto that Renown and Fame which flatters me, since perhaps you will believe it no more, and hereafter take all those truths which she shall tell you, for Lies: But Madam, although she has done me this Favour, yet sometimes she renders justice, therefore I most humbly beseech your majesty, to believe her when she tells you, that the Prince whom I serve, is one of the greatest Kings in the world. I know very well replied Thomiris, that Ciaxares is indeed a great Prince, and that he is owner of excellent qualities; moreover I know that the Princess his Daughter, is as admirable in beauty as Artamenes is in valour: And I know also (added she) that your hand has made the greatest part of all Asia to tremble; and that you have won as many Battles as you have lived years: my Master was so much amazed and confounded to hear Thomiris speak after that manner, as he could not choose but express his astonishment; Madam, (said he to her) you do extremely amaze me, for I do not remember that I ever saw any of this country of Massagetes, neither in the Cappadocian Court, and in the Army of Ciaxares: I cannot Imagine which way you should come so well acquainted with any of our passages; yet notwithstanding, it appears that your Majesty is not very well informed, since all that glory which is attributed unto me, does all of it belong unto the King my Master: whose Arms, it is true, has been prosperous in my hands, but they have been so in all others as well as mine: I will not stand to relate all this discourse, which was much longer than was accustomed at any first audience. The Queen did assure my master in his taking leave of her, that he should have all the satisfaction concerning his voyage which could be hoped for: and that she would please Ciaxares in all things which reason would admit her: Artamenes retired then, much satisfied with Thomiris, and much astonished to find so near the Scythians such magnificent people, so civilised and full of spirit. We afterwards came to know, that it was the custom of Thomiris to send out several men unto all the Courts of stranger Princes, who unknown, did from time to time give her an account, of all the passages throughout all Asia; and moreover, it was the policy of both the Scythians and of the Massagetes who in that did imitate them, to make invasions when they were least thought upon, and to that end, they endeavoured to know exactly all passages in every nation, that thereby they might prevent themselves from being surprised, and surprise others. In the mean time, the two strange Princes who were in this Court, the one, as I have already told you, was called Indathirses, and the other Aripithes, and who were both of them in love with Thomiris, seeing with what extraordinary civility, she received my Master, came to see him the next morning: He returned them a visit, a few days after, and found those two Scythians to be very complete men, principally Indathirses Prince of Tauroscithes, and nephew unto Famous Anacharsis. Aripithes also had spirit enough, but he was a little too suspicious, and violent; whereas Indathirses had a perfect resemblance of the Asiatic sweetness, and not at all Savage or rude: both of these Princes spoke the Assyrian language as well as Thomiris, so that they could hold discourse with my Master, who did so ravish and charm them, that they looked upon him as a God, so much did they admire his carriage, his manner of speaking, his sweetness, his handsomeness, and his complexion. The Queen for her part, was very well satisfied, and used such advantageous terms, that there was no doubt, but that my Master had by his Presence, much confirmed her in that good opinion which she formerly had of him; for we knew, that she had given out these words, in speaking of his handsomeness and good deportment, doubtless (said she) that people who do adore none but the Sun are less reasonable than we, who are advised to represent our Gods in Figures, or do adore men; and questionless they who first gave that advice had seen some which resembled Artamenes: for certainly there is something in him so great, and so divine which begets admiration and respect. In short Sir, during the first days we had been in this Court, it may be very well said, that every one was very well pleased: Thomiris was ravished to see Artamenes in her Court: the two Princes were extremely glad of friendship with such an Illustrious man: all the Court in general, perceiving that the presence of Artamenes did so much add unto their diversions, rejoiced: The people who naturally love valiant men, look upon Artamenes with delight: and my Master himself, seeing the manner of his treatment, hoped for a good success in his design, and had no other vexation of mind, but that of absence and his passion, which to speak truth was very great; yet he was a little comforted with hopes of a ready and happy return; yet not to lose time, whilst he seemed to negotiate with the Queen's Council, concerning those affairs which were the Colours of his voyage, to wit, the pirates upon the Caspian Sea, the good information which had the most predominare stroke in the mind of Thomiris, to the end he might discover her thoughts, and smell whether she would hearken unto a marriage with Ciaxares: he learned out, that one called Teres had most credit with her, and thereupon endeavoured to engage him as much as he could. But since there must be a time for that, therefore he was forced unto patience against his will; mean while, he saw the Queen every day, and almost every hour: She discoursed with him concerning all different ways of making war: she enquired at what manner he governed his people: she would know, how he lived in his Court during times of peace, and she discovered so much spirit, so much wisdom, and so much delight in the company of Artamenes, that she could not commend him enough: she did all she could possible, to keep him with her; for she let him see all the magnifices of the Massagetes, and all their pleasures: she carried him to hunt; she causes horse races to be made, wherein he showed his skill: she showed him dances after the Scythian manner, where those who danced were habited like native Scythians, with rich Furs of divers sorts; the Music though a little Savage, yet was very delighting: she showed him combats and victories without blood; In short she neglected nothing that might divert him: He also saw one of their sacrifices: He also had the satisfaction to see that Mitra, the god of the Persians, though under another name, was also the god of the Scythians and Massagetes, and indeed more particularly than we, for they never offer sacrifices unto any but the Sun, which we do call so, and offer unto him none but horses, thinking (say they) that it is but just, to sacrifice unto the greatest and most swift of all the Gods, the most noble and the most swift of all Animals. Thomiris treating my Master thus, he was courted by all the Court, and in all likelihood, he would presently be in a condition, to obtain what he could desire. He observed that Thomiris, did resent all imaginable Complacency in his company, both Chrisantes and I, saw that she did infinitely esteem him, but we could not foresee that it, which in all appearace should have advanced the designs of Artamenes, did retard them, my Master, speaking with Teres concerning affairs which related unto the pirates on the Caspian Sea: Teres by order from the Queen told him that he should receive satisfaction, but yet he must allow her a little patience, because Thomiris desired that her son Spargapises should return, before she gave him an answer. In conclusion, after that Artamenes had prepared Teres by good considerable gifts, and thereby hoped he would be serviceable unto him; and told him that he would gladly know whether a proposition of marriage with Ciaxares would be acceptable to her or no: my Master laid open unto this Prime minister of state, the grandeur of that Prince which was to be King of the Medes: the advantage and glory which would redound unto all Massagetes thereby; and forgot nothing that might induce this agent to approve of the motion; so that he being throughly persuaded himself, might more effectually move Thomiris to hearken unto it. Teres did hear Artamenes very willingly, and seemed to approve of the proposition, and promised him to present it unto the Queen, with all diligence and affection possible. Mean while Thomiris, who yet knew nothing of the design, behaved herself as she used to do, with abundance of civility unto my master: which began, not to be very pleasant unto Indathirses and Aripithes. for my part, I do confess, that I began to think Thomiris did bear so much esteem unto Artamenes, as would quickly convert itself into Affection: I perceived she did commend him very often; that she changed colour when he came near her, and that her eyes always followed him when he went from her: yet I did not tell my Master what I thought, for I believed him so possessed with his own passion, as that he would not regard it: yet Sir, this light suspicion was not without a good ground, for we knew presently after that this great Queen, who never had loved any before: who was married extremely young: who had continued a widow fifteen years: who had refused all the Grandees of both Scythians: and who guarded her heart against the love of Indathirses and Aripithes, who were both in love with her, and served her above a year, yet could she not choose but be surprised at the merit of Artamenes: But Sir, It is worthy of admiration to consider by what ways the Gods will contrive things, when it is their pleasure, to bring ●hem to pass. Although Thomiris did know of many of the famous Actions which my Master had performed, yet she knew not all the particulars; therefore being very desirous to know them all, she was pleased to cast her eyes upon me: so that my Master sending me one day unto her, to tell of something, she did command me to relate all I knew concerning the glorious life of Artamenes: For my part, I did then think, that I should rather have done my Master some service by it, then augment the esteem which she had of him, (for I had then no suspicion of what I told you) therefore I related very exactly, all his combats; all his victories, and all those passages which his generosity had prompted him unto. How he saved the life of Ciaxares by exposing his own: The Combat of the two hundred: The duel between him and Aritanus: The siege of Ceracea: The Battle which he won: The remarkable Arms which he had on that day, when forty Cavaliers conspired against his life: The common Arms which he took afterwards to conceal himself thereby, from those who had orders to spare him: His Combat with Philidaspes; and in general all his Gallantry during the war; but concerning his love, you may well imagine that I spoke not a word. She asked me, what his Quality was; and I told her that it was very noble, but that I had especial order to discover no more. To tell you the truth Sir, I think that the reputation of Artamenes, his deportment, his garb, his handsomeness, and his spirit, had kindled love in the heart of Thomiris, and my discourse did serve for bellows to the fire, and augmented it: It became so predominate that she could not quench nor overcome it. I make no question Sir, but you desire to know how I came to dive so into the secret thoughts of the Queen; therefore, before that I do relate unto you such things as will surprise you. I must recall into your memory, how under the Reign of the first Ciaxares, father of Astyages, who now lives, the Scythians did invade all Medea, and after they had possessed it eight and twenty years they were expelled: Then Sir, in their return unto their own Country, they carried with them a great number of prisoners, of all sexes, ages, and conditions. There was a man of quality amongst the Massagettes, which followed the Scythians, and who was in love with one who was Aunt unto Aglatidas whom you know; and who indeed is a man of much merit: This man, in his return, carried her away with him, and when he came into his own Country married her. I tell you this Sir, because this person was yet living when we came into this Court; and yet retained so great a love unto any thing that related unto Medea, that there was no good office which she was not ready to render unto us: and Chrisantes had contracted such a confidence with Gelonida, (for that was her name since she came amongst the Massagettes) that she did faithfully advertise him of all things which came within the compass of her knowledge: She being much promoted, and knowing a thousand things which they were ignorant of in that Country. she rated at a very high esteem, especially having married a man of very good Quality, and one of great esteem among the people: so that by reason of these good Qualities, she was chosen to be one that was always with the Queen from her infancy, and continued so still, when we came to the Court of Thomiris. Gelonida was doubtless a woman of a good spirit, and much virtue, and therefore she was constrained to tell some things unto Chrisantes (which you shall know) to the end he should endeavour to free her from one mischief, which without his assistance she could not prevent. By her we came to know Sir, that Thomiris no sooner saw Artamenes, but she began to esteem him, and had so great an inclination to love him, that it may almost be said, she loved him at the same instant in which she began to esteem him. This Princess had a great soul, but naturally very passionate; she looked upon nothing with the golden mediocrity; her weakest desires were like determined resolutions; and as she was persuaded that all her desires were just, so she submitted her reason unto her will, and endeavoured every way to satisfy it: so that there needs no wonder at those violences wherewith she transacted, to compass her desires: yet notwithstanding, when she first perceived, that her heart began to engage itself, she began also to bid resistance, but it was after such a manner, as rather augmented the malady then cured it: and as the agitation of the Air, does kindle fire, and makes the flames more violent; so Thomiris, desiring to quench those sparks which she perceived in her soul, did inflame them more, and caused that small spark, which at first had neither light nor heat in it, to flame, by that agitation which she gave unto it. She endeavoured to know what it was which tormented her, and plainly found it to be love. How comes it to pass (said she to Gelonida, when she could not hide her grief any longer) that the sight of this stranger, does procure unto me both joy, and vexation? To me, I say, who have passed away thus much of my life, without the knowledge either of love or hatred? nor ever loved any thing but Liberty and Glory: Why am I troubled, said she, both when I see him, and when I see him not? If he have a pleasant and delighting soul, why do I not endure his company, without pensiveness? If he have not, why does his absence trouble me? Do I not know very well, that Artamenes is to be but a while here, and that the same fortune which brought him hither, will presently take him away again? But suppose it should not (added she) what have I to do with Artamenes? Do I not understand by one of his men, that he will not permit the place of his birth, and his Quality to be known? Moreover, do I not know, that though these arguments are very strong, yet there is one most invincible one, against which there is no remedy? For said she, admit love to be a permitted passion; suppose Artamenes were a Prince, and a Prince of some of the Scythians, ought Thomiris to love him, since he loves not her? Oh no, no, Let us not subvert the universal custom of the World. The Gods gave not beauty unto women to begin love, and court men: But on the contrary, It is their pleasure, that this Ray of Divinity which in an instant doth what it pleases, and as well as the Sun doth shine and heat immediately, should beget women Adorers whether they will or no. They did not give this rare privilege unto our sex that we should renounce it; and besides, who knows whether or no the heart of Artamenes be not already engaged? and who can tell whether he have not an aversion unto the Massagettes, who have so often matched with the Scythians? I see, said she, that he is very civil, and complacential: But for all that he is a stranger, he loves us not, and therefore we ought not to love him. Gelonida hearing her say so, would have confirmed her in her resolution: But Thomiris fearing to be cured of that disease which brought her almost as much joy as sorrow, prevented her; No, no, Mother (said she to her, for so she often called her in private) speak not yet, and do not move me to deny you; for though I say, I ought not to love Artamenes, yet I do not say that I do not love him: There must be some excusable faults, and innocent errors. Love passeth amongst us for a dangerous passion I confess, but not for a criminal one: So, when I say that I ought not to love Artamenes; it is for my own quiet that I say it, and not for my glory: For I do not doubt, but if I should move Artamenes to love me, and marry me, the Massagettes would not commend me for it; Native Scythians who hate all strangers, would perhaps blame me; But the people over whom my Son is to reign, and the Issedonians whose Kingdom is mine, they would esteem me the more for it: Valour amongst us is valued at a higher rate than a Crown; And if I should make choice of the most valiant man in the World, I should merit more honour, then if I had married the greatest Prince upon earth: Spargapises would be beholding unto me for it; and if this Hero should guide him in his first war, I should not doubt of good success. So that Gelonida, when I love Artamenes, I am neither unjust nor criminal: and since my people hath oftentimes solicited me to choose for a husband, either the Prince of the Tauroscithes, or the Prince of Sauromates: I may easily imagine, they will have less aversion unto Artamenes, since they do look upon him with so much esteem: But Gelonida, the main matter is, that Artamenes does not love me, nor knows that I love him; But perhaps his affection is settled somewhere else. As for the first of these (said she) he does no injury unto that mean beauty, with which they flatter me up; for though it should be so, that it does not wound him, as doubtless he does not think that I ought to accept of his affection, he would easily resist such weak thoughts, and vanquish them. But alas, if the ignorance wherein he is, of that which my heart apprehends of him, does hinder me from making any progress in his affection, he would perhaps pass from a light disposition to love me, into a strong inclination to hate and despise me, if I should make it known unto him: I would perhaps then think, that a wild passion would be mistress of his reason, and Thomiris who does prefer his courage, his mind, and his virtues before the charms of his person, would be suspected of a dishonourable weakness: Alas (said she) into what a condition am I reduced? If Artamenes do not know that I can love him, or to speak truth, that I do love him; he can never love me; and if he should know it, he will never esteem me: If it be so that his heart be already engaged, what would I have him do? or what can I desire of him? No, no, (said she upon a sudden) I must cure this disease which thus torments, how bitter soever the remedy be; I must dismiss this dangerous Ambassador, whom I desire might never depart from hence; I must, I ought, and I will do so; but yet I know not whether can or not. In conclusion Sir, after a most violent agitation, and a strong contest with herself, she retired without any power what to resolve upon: And here admire, I beseech you, the fantastical humour of love, and fortune when they join together to persecute any one. My Master unto whom the remembrance of Mandana, gave restless thoughts, and unto whom, the impatient desires to return would not allow a minutes rest, did press on Teres to speak unto the Queen, and to induce the Queen to give him a more favourable Answer; He visited her oftener than ordinary, and spoke unto her a long time together: Yet he could not so absolutely contain himself, but that his melancholy would be predominate, and he oftentimes sighed in speaking to Thomiris, seeming as if something did disturb his mind: he did sometimes in thinking upon Mandanas, examine the beauty of Thomiris, and very seriously fix his looks upon her face and eyes. This Princess is fair indeed (would he say sometimes to himself when he looked upon her) but my Princess is infinitely above her. I do not discover in this, that charming modesty and incomparable sweetness, which is the soul of beauty: Indeed Thomiris (said he sighing) is not Mandana, and I look upon her beauty with indifferency, but upon the other with adoration. Mean while Sir, the Queen of Massagettes, who understood not this mute language, nor could rightly interpret the looks and sighs of Artamenes, did think, that perhaps he might love her, and durst not tell it; and this conceit did puff her up into abundance of joy, and yet it was not a joy that was full of tranquillity: for (said she) peradventure the cause of these sighs is from Themiscira, though he be here amongst the Massagettes, yet (added she) it may be, that I am the cause of his sorrow, as well as he is of mine, for indeed though I will not believe my Glass, lest it should flatter me, yet the passions of Indathirses and Aripithes do persuade me to think, that it is not absolutely impossible to find some beauty in Thomiris: Let us hope then (said she) and endeavour to undeceive ourselves in the interpretation of a thing which so much concerns us. As she was in these thoughts, Teres according to his promise unto my Master, came to propound unto her a marriage with Ciaxares; and since he did not at the first tell her directly the business, but oftentimes named Artamenes, this Princess did not very well understand what he did mean, though she knew very well what she desired he should say: But at the last he told her, that the business of Pirates which was so much spoken of, was only the pretence of Artamenes his Embassy, but that his right business was to move her unto a marriage with Ciaxares King of Cappadocia, and Galatia, and who hereafter was to be King of the Medes also. Thomiris was much surprised at this discourse, yet notwithstanding, since she had no mind to discover the disquiets of her mind unto Teres, although he was in great favour with her; she only told him, that she was much engaged unto Ciaxares, but that this was a business which could not be hastily resolved upon: therefore, that she might have the more time to consider of her best course, she bade him tell Artamenes, that he had not yet moved the matter unto her; and desired Teres to prolong the business as much as he could. Teres promised the Queen, that he would do as she commanded: But the liberality of Artamenes had so wrought upon the spirits of Teres, that he told unto my Master the Queen's true Answer, giving him much hopes of his Negotiation; because (said he) if she had disapproved of it, she would have refused it at the first. This hope gave much satisfaction unto Artamenes, so that he was more frequent in his visits, and observed some alteration in her mind: For Sir, this proposition of marriage did move in her such cruel vexations of soul, as she almost lost her reason. Let us doubt no longer (said she unto Gelonida) of Artamenes his indifferency towards us after such a proposition as this: We are so certain of it, that if he had told us from his own mouth, he loved us not, we could not have been more sure. But it may be also (said she) that he obeys his Master against his will; and this melancholy which I discover in him, may proceed from hence, that he is constrained to speak for another, when he would speak for himself. This Princess continued not long in one thought, but contradicted herself a hundred times in one day, yet which way soever she turned it, she ever loved Artamenes: She fancied, that if she could marry him, she would make the name of Massagettes sound throughout the World; so that Ambition joining itself with love, would never suffer her to be at rest. Mean while my Master, who was ignorant of her true thoughts, lived at his usual rate of melancholy. But that there might want nothing to complete the sum of his misfortunes, it happened that Indathirses and Aripithes, who were both of them men of high souls, and both in love, were very prying into the Assiduity of Artamenes with Thomiris. They observed also, that the Queen was much perplexed more than usual; and that always when Artamenes came to her, there did appear more joy in her countenance, than she used to express unto any else. In conclusion Sir, these two Princes, who when we came first to this Court, were jealous one of another, although the Queen did treat them both alike with equal indifferency, did now cease their suspicious thoughts one of another, and converted their jealousies, their animosities, and suspicions which were between them into hatred of my Master; they contracted between themselves a kind of confidence and friendship: and my master caused that which perhaps never was seen before, two rivals hold good correspondency together: They could not see any important cause why Artamenes should stay long there: and the insensibility of the Queen towards them, caused them to think, that the inclination which she seemed to have unto Artamenes, did not arise without his contributing something towards it. At last they believed that Artamenes loved Thomiris, and Thomiris did not hate him: They discoursed together, as of a thing which did equally concern them both, and seemed to be firm friends. Shall we endure this affront (said Aripithes) from this stranger? Must we suffer him in the face of all the Massagetes to obtain that in a few days, which we with all our cares and services cannot obtain in a whole year? I know very well said Indathirses, that he is infinitely handsome, and extremely amiable; but that which perhaps may excuse Thomiris, will not justify him, who ought not to exceed the quality of an Ambassador. All this while Sir, they were agreed concerning my Master's crime, but they could not concur in the way of punishment; for they being too gallant to think upon any base way of revenge: And to fight with an Ambassador, was the way to cause Thomiris to banish them both, who doubtless would not suffer the Law of Nations to be violated upon the person of Artamenes; and also by that course they should expose themselves unto a Foreign war; So that they had much ado to resolve upon it: neither could they agree which of them two should take this enterprise in hand, which was no less difficult than glorious. Indathirses said it belonged unto him; Aripithes said he had as much right unto it as Indathirses; and it may very well be said, that they knew not how nor when, nor why they should revenge themselves upon a Rival whom they could not destroy without destroying all their hopes of Thomiris. This was therefore their principal reason why they deferred their revenge, and moved them to observe more narrowly the actions of Artamenes and Thomiris. They consented to render an account one to another of all they could learn out, and to transact jointly, how to rid themselves of such a dangerous enemy. Certainly it were very good sport to see Thomiris, Artamenes, Indathirses, and Aripithes all together: For Thomiris thought of nothing but how to make Artamenes love her. Artamenes thought neither of Thomiris, Indathirses, nor Aripithes, but disposed of all his thoughts upon Mandana. Indathirses and Aripithes forgot their jealousies one of another, and thought upon nothing but Artamenes and Thomiris. Mean while my Master, who thought every minute an age, did press Teres for the Queen's answer: And the Queen seeing herself importuned, assured Teres that Artamenes should be satisfied within these three days: To represent unto you Sir, the turbulent agitations in the mind of Thomiris, during this time, would be a piece of difficulty. It will be sufficient that I tell you, that this Princess being very glorious, had much ado to permit her proud and lofty soul, absolutely to command Gelonida, to ask Chrisantes whom she observed often with her, whether Artamenes would be content to accept of that which he demanded for Ciaxares. Gelonida then did endeavour to qualify the mind of Thomiris; and moved her to prefer the King before the Ambassador: but Thomiris answered her, that she preferred the virtue of Artamenes before all the Crowns upon earth: yet Gelonida (said she to her) I would have you carry the business so, that Artamenes should know I love him, and not esteem me the less for it: and order the matter so as my passion for Artamenes may be satisfied, with directly stifling my passion which I have unto honour. Though Gelonida was much displeased with this commission, yet she assured the Queen, since nothing could change her mind, to obey her with all fidelity; and she did promise it the more seriously, because she feared that Thomiris could not trust this secret unto any other, who would manage it better than herself. The hopes which Gelonida would have had of returning into her own Country, if the Queen had married Ciaxares, moved her to be very sorry for that passion which Thomiris bore unto Artamenes. Moreover, she could not imagine that my Master could refuse that honour which was offered unto him; and she did foresee, that if he accepted of it, it must needs produce a war between Thomiris and Ciaxares. Yet she resolved to speak, and that quickly, for else the Queen would never be at rest: having then found Chrisantes, she resolved to tell him the whole truth, and after that to tell him, that if he loved Artamenes, he would hinder him from accepting this honour which Thomiris offered him; because else in all likelihood, he would betray his master unprofitably, and never enjoy any quietness. Chrisantes, much amazed at Gelonidas discourse, as soon as his wonder was a little over, assured her, that she needed not to fear it: and that Artamenes would never accept of it: but since he would not give her any more direct answer, until his master knew it, he asked her a little more time before he would absolutely resolve her: he went immediately unto him in his Tent, where finding only me with him; Sir, (said he to him) I believe you cannot guess what ill fortune I have to tell you, and to what a proof your constancy is put unto: Fortune Chrisantes (said he to him) is it not very rigorous, when she sends us only such evils as we did foresee, but when her malice is extreme, she will fatally surprise, and overload those whom she intends to destroy: yet notwithstanding (said he) I cannot imagine, what it should be that is so very averse in this Court, unless by misfortune it be, that Thomiris has some secret aversion to me, which causes her not to answer Ciaxares more favourably, so that I shall be compelled to return without doing any thing. Sir, (replied Chrisantes) this last thing may perhaps fall out so, but it will be by a quite contrary reason to what you say; I understand you not (replied Artamenes) you will perhaps understand me better (said Chrisantes to him) when I shall tell you that Thomiris loves you; and loves you so much as she offers you that which she refuses Ciaxares. My Master cried out at this report of Chrisantes, and it was a good while before he could believe it: No, no, (said he to him) Gelonida, has either lost her reason, or else yours is not in its right place. Thomiris who has regarded the passions of Indathirses and Aripithes, with such cold indifferency for above a whole year, cannot possibly love Artamenes: Artamenes (I say) who loves not her, nor has neither said nor done any thing which might make her think I did; who on the contrary has moved her to Marry the King who sent him; and who can seem no more than a common Ambassador in her eyes: So that Chrisantes you are either not the same you use to be, or else Gelonida has deceived you. Sir, (said Chrisantes to him) there is no alteration in my mind, nor has Gelonida deceived me; for she spoke unto me with great gravity and wisdom: therefore I beseech you give me your answer, for she allowed me but until to morrow to return it unto her: Artamenes seemed so confounded to hear Chrisantes speak in that manner, that it was easy to see, he had much ado to believe him: yet calling unto his memory many passages which he both saw and understood; and which he regarded not before, he no longer doubted the truth of what Chrisantes told him. I could have been well contented, if it had been in his power that Chrisantes and I had never known it: and his soul was in all things so generous, that he would have been well pleased to bear all the burden of his cares himself, and have concealed them from us if it had been possible: But he could not do it, therefore he began to comfort himself with us, in multiplying his misfortunes: Had ever any man (said he) such fortune as I? when I began to love divine Mandana, was it not to be thought that such a sweet and bitter humour might move her to compassion, and to be tenderly sensible of it; yet, as many acts as I have performed; as many services as I have done her; as much pains as I have took; as many thousand unprofitable sighs as I have breathed; as many tears as I have shed, yet all these could not mollify her soul: It may very well be said, that if I were not dead, or at least she thought me so: Mandana, the fair Mandana, would never have afforded me the least testimony of her affection. And yet for all this she resolved to banish me, and that for ever, when I came hither. But alas, the misfortune which persecuted me in Cappadocia, has not followed me hither amongst the Massagetes in the like manner, but quite contrary, since a Queen who seems to be fierce, and proud, loves him who cares not for her; offers him a heart which was never asked, and would consent unto that of her own motion, which she might without injustice refuse if it were asked: No, no, said he to us, this perverse accident, is neither an effect of my merit, nor the imbecility of Thomiris: It is only my mistortune, and my averse destiny which would punish me as well by a refusal of good things, as by those which they never afforded me. Do not think divine Mandana, (said he) that the sorrows which I am sensible of are any effects of my refusing a great and a fair Queen; No divine Princess, I have no such thoughts; My heart does too dearly preserve the image of your Angelique beauty, to be ever moved by hers or any else: But I do confess this perverse accident does much displease me; And if it were in my choice, I had rather fight two Battles, then to be put upon such a necessity, as to make a glorious and a proud Princess blush for shame and confusion Tell then Gelonida (said he to Chrisantes) that I would not believe what you told me; but that though you had persuaded me to believe it, yet it had been to no purpose, since the fidelity which I owe unto the King whom I serve, will not permit me to accept of such an honour: yet Chrisantes (said he) forget not to tell Gelonida, that I gave no credit unto your words; and leave an handsome way open for Thomiris, to repent herself of her first thoughts: which perhaps she has already condemned in herself. Thus Sir, did my Master say unto Chrisantes, who went immediately unto Gelonida; and she as soon to give an account of the answer, unto the Queen: But alas, this answer produced effects, contrary to the hopes and expectation of Artamenes; and Thomiris would not make use of this honest way to correct her first thoughts by her second: but on the contrary it did exasperate the mind of this Queen in lieu of appeasing it, and this lofty Soul thought she was now doubly obliged to overcome him which resisted her: No no, Gelonida (said she unto this Lady, after she had delivered the answer of Chrisantes) Artamenes is not so hard to be persuaded as he seems, and perhaps he is but too well persuaded of my honour, to compass my design: This is not a business wherein any falseness can be suspected, for where a Princess woos, and is the first which speaks of love, there cannot be any doubt of it. From hence it must be concluded, that Artamenes who seems not to credit, what is told him, would either be told of it often, or else he would never have it spoke on again; which of these two soever it be, Thomiris is not satisfied, unless it be so, that Artamenes thinks it to be a becoming modesty, and will not at the first answer unto a proposition, which is so advantageous for him. But however Gelonida, I must at the least know the heart of Artamenes, though I cannot obtain it: And I must speak unto him, in such a manner as he cannot disguise himself though he were as subtle as any Grecian: must you speak Madam? replied Gelonida; Alas, I beseech you, be not too hasty in such an unusual way, lest you should afterwards repent it: Consult a little better, before you resolve it, and do not blindly follow a passion which will draw you into too much inconveniency, if you take not heed. No Gelonida, replied Thomiris, that passion which possesseth me, shall not cause me to commit a fault: but know, that at this time I do prefer the sincerity of the Scythians my neighbours, before that handsomeness of Ecbatan, whereof you speak so much: That virtue which causeth us to disguise our thoughts, and hide that which is in the soul, is not the custom of the Massagets. Amongst you it is no matter if a woman do love, so she do not express it: whereas amongst us we use to banish the most tender thoughts out of our hearts, if we do not find them just. And so I do assure you, that if I could think it a crime to love such an Illustrious man as Artamenes, I would contend with my passion in lieu of concealing it. But on the contrary, I do not at all hold it dishonourable or unworthy, to affect that man whom I think worthy to command all others: I cannot see that there is any such great mystery in the matter as you imagine, since there is none but crimes which we ought to Cover and Conceal. But Madam (replied Gelonida suppose Artamenes should not give such an answer as you desire, and as I believe he will not, would you not repent of your speaking to him? I know not what I may do, (answered Thomiris very angrily) but I know for the present that I will be better satisfied of Artamenes his true thoughts. Good heavens Madam (said Gelonida) are you not afraid to ruin that which you would promote? I do fear every thing (answered Thomiris) But what would you have me do? I am no more a Mistress of my own will, and I do no more than what pleaseth that passion which possesseth me; and because I believe it just, I have submitted myself unto it. Thoniris spoke many other things which discovered the disturbance and irregularity of her passionate mind: she could not endure the conversation of Indathirses and Arapithes: She thought upon nothing but Artamenes: and because it was indeed the virtue of my Master which had such a powerful influence upon her heart, she believed that all the effects of so noble a cause and so pure, were all innocent. Mean while, Artamenes was not a little perplexed with a fear to see Thomiris after this proposition which had been made unto him: and the Queen for her part, she knew not very well how to endure the looks of Artamenes, notwithstanding her seeming resolutions. This violent passion which possessed her being more predominate than her modesty caused her, not to stay long without the sight of the object of her affection. My Master, not daring to omit any part of his duty, went unto her at the usual hour; & as illuck would have it, found none with her burr her women, who were no hindrance unto private discourse, because they stood far off at the other end of the Room. Artamenes then, saluting her with a most humble reverence; and not daring almost to look upon her, lest he should put her to the blush, did speak unto her concerning things far off that business: But as Thomiris, retained nothing in her mind but it, so she turned all unto her own design, and were the discourse never so far off the matter, yet she did handsomely draw the sense of it unto her own ends. After she had rendered the like salute unto Artamenes, with as much confusion as he; and after the first compliments, he began to discourse of the beauty of the Country of Massagettes, and its vastness: It is true (answered she unto him) our Country is not very contemptible, yet I cannot be persuaded, but you prefer Cappadocia before it; and perhaps (said she blushing) you had rather obey there, then Command here. Doubtless (replied Artamenes) it is but just so to do; for Madam, necessity does impose it upon me, to obey in Cappadocia, although I am not born a subject unto Ciaxares; nor can I ever have any right to command among the Massagettes; unless (said he smiling) the King my Master do send me to make War upon them, which your Majesty knows very well how to prevent. You know, said she to him, that Crowns are obtained more ways than one. There are Kings elective, as well as there are Kings by conquest: and who told you, that without fight you could not Reign here, or at least over the Issedonians? Reason Madam, told me, (replied Artamenes) knowing very well, that the Crown of the Issedonians is not elective: and also knowing most certainly, that your people are so well contented with your Government, that they will never change you. No Madam, I am not so meanly versed in the several Customs of People, but that I know, that the Spartan Customs and the Massagettes are not alike, and that it is not here, as where the Kings are elective: But it is you Madam (said he unto her, and would not give her time to answer) who may get several Crowns without fight: and your virtue hath procured you so many Royal Adorers, as I may well say, you may choose Sceptres and Crowns, when, and where you please: and although those which you have of your own already be very illustrious, yet believe it Madam, there are others also which are not unworthy of you. For my part, (replied the Queen) I am partly of your mind in one thing; for as you had rather obey in Cappadocia, then reign here; so had I rather obey here then reign in Cappadocia. Perhaps Madam, replied my Master, you would not say so of Medea, if you were there; and the stately palaces of Ecbatan, are if I be not deceived, to be preferred before your magnificent Tents: No Artamenes, replied she, all the magnificence of Ecbatan moves not my mind: I seek for solid virtues, and not splendent Thrones; and I know you are too full of reason, not to be of my opinion: also I am persuaded, that although we have no Palaces nor Towns, yet if you did find amongst us a Princess which were most illustrious in every thing, you would prefer her before her that sits upon the Throne of Assyria. Doubtless I know Madam, answered Artamenes, that I should more esteem such a one in a prison, than many others which wore Crowns: But Madam, when I speak unto you of the Throne of Medea, I am not put to that trouble, since the Prince who must sit upon it, is one that is owner of all great Virtues, and good Qualities: He knew better how to make his choice (answered Thomiris) when he committed the command of his Arms unto you: But I doubt whether he was so judicious, in employing an illustrious Conqueror to be an Ambassador, since in my opinion they are different Qualities. If fidelity (answered Artamenes much nonplussed) be one of the most essential parts of this kind of employment: I can assure your Majesty, that I have as much of it as I have of Courage; and if I prove not so happy in this my negotiation, as I have been in War, it shall be because Madam, your Majesty would not have it so, but not my fault: No Madam, I will omit no endeavours which may conduce to the satisfaction of that King who sent me; and if I cannot obtain it, than I must return back with much sorrow, but I will carry nothing with me which may tax either my fidelity, or my diligence. You have not yet told me (replied Thomiris in much turbulence) the true Negotiation about which you came unto this Court; and had not Teres acquainted me, I had not known it. That which you impute unto me as a crime (answered my Master) is indeed, out of my respect, and if I say as much, as the handsomest expedient; for Madam, I did not think it fit to expose the honour of that Prince whom I serve, unto any disgrace, nor expose your Majesty unto the open refusal of a great King, if the proposition did not please you; yet notwithstanding I hope for better success; and notwithstanding all that hath been told me, to be as happy in my Negotiation, as I have been in War. No Artamenes, deceive not yourself, (answered the Queen) that which you have proposed unto me, will not take effect, and you yourself are an invincible hindrance unto it. ay, Madam, (answered my Master.) Yes, you (answered Thomiris) and therefore complain not, if Ciaxares receive no satisfaction from me. I do confess Madam, (answered Artamenes) I do not understand you, You understand me well enough Artamenes (answered she in a faint voice, and dejecting her eyes) but it's I that does not understand you. You may understand me Madam when you please, replied my Master, and if I have been ill interpreted, I shall be most ready to clear all your doubts and justify myself. Your crime (answered Thomiris) is of such a quality, as I cannot accuse you, but I must accuse myself, which is not an easy matter for me to do. As I am very confident of my own innocency (replied Artamenes) so I do not doubt of yours; nor can I suspect a great Queen, of the least error. No Artamenes (said she and covering her eyes with her hand) I do not err, when I think you worthy of a Crown. Alas Madam, (cried out my Master) doubtless I am not rightly understood; and lest I should neglect that reverence which I do owe you. I think it is my best not to answer you. You shall answer me enough, in not answering me at all, replied the Queen, and I shall not need any long discourse to understand you. But Madam (said Artamenes then) since what your Majesty tells me is true, I have no other business, but to take my leave of you and return to Themiscira, that I may no longer keep one of the greatest Kings upon earth in a fruitless hope. This last discourse which my Master had premeditated to puzzle the Queen, did much surprise her, and put her unto such a nonplus, that she knew not what to answer; for she thought that by leaving no hopes in Artamenes to promote the interest of Ciaxares, she should persuade him, that she loved him; but perceiving this course did produce so bad an effect, and that this resolute answer took from her all pretence of staying him, she repented of what she had said, though she knew not how to remedy it; she was upon the very point of more openly discovering her passion unto him; Love and Modesty did much contend which should open, which should shut her mouth; she would speak, and she would be silent; she would oftentimes change colour and look upon my Master, then upon a sudden withdraw her looks, and deject her eyes, and all this with such violent agitation, and turbulent irresolution, as caused abundance of perplexity in my Master, whom this cross adventure made even desperate: But in conclusion, Thomiris not being able to speak down right of her passion unto Artamenes; and not being willing that he should depart, did turn the matter another way, so that beginning to speak again, It is not now Artamenes (said she to him) that you shall receive your Answer, but since you spoke unto me by Teres, it is by him I will return you an Answer: Mean while, we will not yet resolve upon any thing: A minuit cannot make us alter our firmest resolves. Perhaps you will desire nothing to morrow but what you desire now; and perhaps, I myself also, shall not wish for any thing but what I wish at present, though I am fully persuaded, that what I shall desire is equally innocent and glorious. As they were upon these terms, Indathirses and Aripithes, who since their jealousy of my Master, became inseparable Companions, came in, and interrupted the discourse: These two Princes did very easily observe a great agitation in the mind of Thomiris, and saw some sign of disorder in the face of Artamenes, which they imagined was caused by their anger to be interrupted in their pleasing discourse, but which indeed was quite contrary. These jealous Princes spoke little; Artamenes for his part said not much: Thomiris was restless in her mind, that not being able to endure the presence of these two Princes, who loved her, and could not love them, and the delighting, and therefore cruel sight of Artamenes, whom she loved, but who loved not her, troubling her, she took leave of them all; and at the same time quitted herself of the objects of her indifferency, and of her love. After the Queen was gone, Artamenes went out also with the two Princes; and since he was much pleased with Indathirses, whom he suspected not of any such thoughts as he brought with him, he left them not so soon: They whose minds were only to discover his intentions, and being glad of this opportunity, propounded it unto him to walk out together: During this walk, they put a hundred odd froward questions unto him concerning the time he was to stay in this Court, unto which he answered very innocently: So that sometimes he did confirm their jealousies, sometimes he would lessen them, but yet commonly they rather augmented, then diminished. Doubtless (said Indathirses to him) It is a business of some great importance, which detains you thus long in this Court, and which moved the King of Cappadocia to employ a man of your Quality unto the Queen. My Master, thinking to do them a pleasure in speaking advantageously concerning Thomiris, did answer Indathirses in such a manner as moved resentment quite opposite to joy: The Queen (replied he) is a Princess so illustrious, that though the Negotiation were not or any great importance, yet the King whom I serve would send none unto her but a Person of great Quality, and if he failed in any thing, it was in that he did not make choice of one more worthy than myself, to treat with so great a Princess. I do believe (answered Aripithes) that he could not have found out one who had been more welcome to her; But that which most wonders me, added he, is to see the Queen treat you as she does, & yet dispatch you no sooner: Affairs are never dispatched in such haste, replied my Master, unless they be such as concern open wars: Those which you negociate, answered Indathirses, I do believe are not of that nature, I should rather think them matters of love; since the King whom you serve is not married, having only one daughter unmarried also, and this Queen a widow; and the young King her son being also a great Prince, it is not impossible but love may be the subject of this so secret employment. No Aripithes (replied he interrupting him) it cannot be as you say, for the marriages of Kings and their loves are never concealed; I rather suspect something else: you may very well think (said Artamenes half smiling) that if I had any such secret orders, I ought not to tell you nor show you my instructions; but I must leave you the liberty of your own thoughts, and give you leave to divert yourselves in reasoning upon such a business as I must never tell you: I do not think, (said Indathirses then) that your business is matters of war, for the most secret things of that nature would quickly be divulged: But if I be not much deceived, our impatiency to know your business is not greater than yours, to know the end of your negotiation: For the Court of Thomiris, though it be very glorious to us Scythians who are declared enemies to all magnificence; yet it is not so to you, who has seen the Court of Medea, and live in that of Cappadocia, which is not inferior in all gallantry and pomp. My Master thinking he had done them a great piece of civility, did augment their jealousy, when he told them thus: I do confess that Cappadocia has most attractive charms in it; and I do confess also that any free and reasonable soul must needs find very great ones in this Court of Thomiris: and though in lieu of being in a pleasant, such as hers is, she should reign over that people who live under the mountain Imaus, amongst the Rocks and Precipices, yet she alone were enough to make the place most pleasant where ere she were; and would doubtless so charm Ambassadors to wait long upon her, that they would make no haste away from her. Since we are strangers as well as you are, replied Indathirses, it is not fit for us to comment upon those commendations which you bestow upon the Country of the Massagetes: and as for the Queen (added Aripithes) it belongs not to us to tell her what you say advantageously of her, it being very probable, that you being facetious as you are, you have found out ways to acquaint her with your good opinion of her. She is one, replied Artamenes, who must not be commended to her face; it is no less injurious to take too much liberty in commending a great Queen, than it is scandal unto one of a mean condition: But as for Thomiris (said he to them) there is no need to tell her she is infinitely deserving, and by consequence infinitely esteemed, since it is not possible she can be ignorant of those admirable qualities wherein she is so transcendent. You may imagine Sir, how these two Rivals were stung at what my Master said: Sometimes they would whisper together, and sometimes they would look upon Artamenes, and seek for that in his eyes, which they plainly saw in his words: As for his part, his spirits were so possessed with passion, and angered at this vexatious adventure wherein he was entangled, that he minded neither the discourse nor actions of these two Princes, as we understood by him which waited upon them, who told it afterwards unto Chrisantes: But in conclusion Sir, Artamenes being impatient to be alone, that he might have liberty to digest his thoughts, did end the walk, and parted from these two Princes, who left him with a colder compliment, than they accosted him. We understood afterwards, that as soon as my Master was parted from them, they began to descant upon that turbulence which they observed in the Queen's face: upon the pensiveness which appeared in the eyes of their supposed Rival, when they came first in, and upon every word he had spoke unto them whilst they were walking: But the result of all their arguments was, that they concluded he loved Thomiris, and Thomiris did not hate him: and in conclusion, did both think and speak, as much as most violent jealousy could prompt them unto. My Master, for his part, had not too much tranquillity, and the Queen was most of all perplexed: Insomuch as she was sorry to see herself in a manner, exceed the modesty of her sex: that which most vexed her was, to see her folly did not thrive: it grieved her to the heart, that neither her beauty nor her quality could move the heart of Artamenes: This moved her absolutely to command Gelonida, to speak herself unto my Master; and pump his thoughts to the bottom of his heart: Gelonida denied a command that had so little reason in it, but Thomiris would without more contradiction be punctually obeyed: Gelonida, since there was no remedy, spoke herself unto Artamenes, after she had prepared his mind a little, by the assistance of Chrisantes: But the truth was, her business was rather to help him out with a handsome pretence to refuse the Queen, than any persuasion of him to her: for since this Lady was so affectionately tied unto the interest of Ciaxares, and conceiving that the Queen made a choice below her quality in thinking upon Artamenes; she carried the business after such a manner, as did little less entangle my Master, then if she had driven on the design which Thomiris desired her: Certainly he never met with a more peevish piece of business: He prayed Gelonida a hundred times over, to persuade the Queen that he esteemed her as much as mortal man could do: But although he were extremely in love with her, yet would he never falsify that fidelity and reverence which he owed the King of Cappadocia. Indeed Sir, he said as much unto her, as any man of the sweetest and noblest mind could do, to conceal the shame and confusion of so great and fair a Queen: Gelonida and he, then being agreed upon an answer, she returned to Thomiris, who did most impatiently expect her: she no sooner saw her, but causing all to go out of her chamber; well Gelonida (said she to her) let me from your mouth hear, whether it be Thomiris or her Crown which Artamenes thinks unworthy of himself? It is rather he, Madam replied Gelonida, who thinks himself unworthy of both: But Madam, he said further, that though he might without injustice aspire unto that honour which your Majesty is pleased to offer him, and notwithstanding that esteem which he owes you, yet he resolves rather to die then fail in duty to his Master: what (replied Thomiris) would he do so though he loved me? Certainly Madam (said Gelonida, to her) it cannot be thought that love will ever corrupt his duty. He told me Madam, that he adored you in his heart; but though his life was destined to be unhappy, yet he would not be wicked: his virtue indeed would be great (replied the Queen) but his love would be small if he could do so; and doubtless, he expressed his passion unto you as an indifferent imaginary thing which never disturbed his reason, by any experience he had of it: I could have spoke as he does the day before he came hither; but now, since I have altered my thoughts, I am persuaded that if he loved me, he would change also with me; and his generosity would be perhaps a little dispensed with, principally in such a business as does not directly injure his virtue: But Gelonida (added she further) it is not I that can persuade him; that which my merit cannot do, my reasons will not: your merit Madam, replied Gelonida, has (as he assures) wrought upon his soul, as much as you can reasonably desire: He doth acknowledge that he both esteems and admires you; but he adds withal, that it is in such a manner, as those who are native subjects unto their Queen, although he be not one of yours: for my part, replied Thomiris, I cannot tell what to think of Artamenes; for certain I am, there is no vicious thought in my heart, for if there were the least tincture of any such, very despite and repentance should quickly cure me of that malady which troubles me; yet although that kind of imbecility does not disturb me, my soul it is not at quiet: Artamenes has induced me almost to hate Indathirses, and Aripithes; I cannot endure the name of Ciaxares, which by others he has moved in, but not himself: every thing which might divert me, annoys me; my own thoughts vex me; and not well knowing whether I do love, or aught to love; I am only certain that I hate my own tranquillity, and that it will be hard for me ever to find it, unless he will permit me to give him a Crown; and confer that upon him which indeed his virtue deserves, and quality denies him. For my part Madam (replied Gelonida) I think that Artamenes prefers his duty before his ambition. But Gelonida (replied Thomiris very angrily) if you do imagine such an impossibility in my design, why do you not tell me that Artamenes slights me? that Artamenes speaks of me but with a faint respect; and that Artamenes is unworthy of my affection? Perhaps, if you carry it thus, very spleen will work that in my heart which reason could not: But you seem to tell me, that Artamenes spoke unto you with so much respect, and so much wisdom, that I can hardly either complain or despair; For if Artamenes do esteem me, he may chance love me; and if he love me, then that which he calls duty unto Ciaxares, will quickly submit unto that duty which he owes unto Thomiris; therefore I must only keep Artamenes in this Court as long as possible I can, and submit the rest unto fortune: I do believe Madam, replied Gelonida, that it will be very difficult to keep him long, for if I be not deceived, he will presently ask leave to depart: he may ask it, (answered this violent Princess) but he shall not obtain it: The orders which I shall give will stop his passage over Araxes. This was the discourse of Thomiris and Gelonida: But to the end that Teres should not understand her intentions, she gave him order to tell my Master that if he would have a little patience, she would within a few days, give him a peremptory answer. Artamenes was then very much perplexed, for Gelonida did let him know by Chrisantes, that the Queen's passion was every day more and more violent: Teres on the contrary, told him that there was great hopes in his trasanction: Indeed, he neither knew well what to think, nor what to resolve upon: He did still urge Teres to press on the business, and told him plainly, that if he received not an answer within a short time, he would be gone without it. Mean time, this bad success did much torment him; not only because he was sorry that he disturbed the tranquillity of Thomiris; nor because Ciaxares would be perhaps displeased with him; but because he apprehended Mandana might imagine that he did not use his best endeavour in the business, since the success of it might deprive that Princess of a Crown. He was forced therefore unto patience; and to wait upon the issue of that business, which in all appearance would not succeed handsomely. Thomiris, since she had spoken unto Artamenes in such plain terms, was two days and would not be seen by any, under colour of being not well: During which time, Artamenes the better to entertain himself with his melancholy contemplations, went out to walk upon the banks of that Rivulet, which as I told you, did run along the Tents Royal, and went with very little company; He would sometimes leave us among some certain Trees which grew there, and there command us to stay; he would walk alone by himself, and go so far sometimes that he would be out of our sight. Two days after that Gelonida, had spoke unto him, Indathirses, and Aripithes, who had observed a great secrecy between Chrisantes and her, and conceived things much otherwise then they were, were extremely tormented with their jealousies, and without any further resolution, would clear all their doubts of being revenged upon Artamenes. But yet the difficulty was to agree, which of them it should be which should execute it; for said Aripithes unto Indathirses, if you should call Artamenes in question, and he give you no satisfaction, you must then fight with him, and then perhaps you would pretend a new right unto Thomiris by this combat: No, answered Indathirses, I promise you never to pretend any thing unto her without her free consent: So that you may easily imagine, that my quarrel with Artamenes is not the way to procure her favour if she love him, but it will put you into less danger of her hatred then myself: But so it was Sir, that they could not agree upon the matter; they were rather ready to fall upon one another, for it is imaginable, that union which was grounded upon jealousy was not indissolvable, and so they parted very ill satisfied with one another; and Indathirses seeing my master go out of the Tent to walk, followed only by two or three of his men, he went after with an equal number, to seek him by the River side where he often walked: As soon as Artamenes saw him, he went towards him, and accosting him with much civility; I am happier than I thought (said he to him) since I expected nothing in my walk but solitude, and find such good company; Indathirses answered my Master civilly enough before the company: and beginning to go on, Indathirses propounded it to walk on foot, and my Master consenting unto it, they gave their horses to their men, and walked alone along the River side: As soon as they were at a reasonable distance, and aught of sight of their men; Indathirses looking upon Artamenes, I know not (said he to him) whether the business I have to tell you, will surprise you; but I do know very well it can never trouble you so much as it has me: I know not (replied Artamenes) whether or no it will surprise me until I do know it; yet I can assure you, that I use not to be so at any perverse events; but always prepare myself to receive the worst malice of fortune with a quiet mind: my business with you now (replied Indathirses) is not of that quality: but before I explain myself any further, tell me I beseech you, whether since you came amongst the Massagettes, you ever heard of the cause which brought me into this Court of Thomiris? Since I do use to be sincere (replied Master) I must confess they tell me it is because you are in love with Thomiris: and that both you and the Prince of Sauromates are possessed with the same passion: Knew you as much before you saw Thomiris? I did so (answered my Master) why then did you not defend your heart (added Indathirses) against her charms? and since you make such public profession of generosity, why would you disengage two Princes, who have received you with all possible civility? for I am certain that the Queen loves you, and I conceive that you love her: for this Princess would for a whole year together obstinately deny her affection unto me, to place it upon a man, who never asked it, or does not love her: I do confess (answered Artamenes coldly) that what you tell me does more surprise me then I thought it would: But since I do not use to give any explanations of this nature, unto any who complain of me, and speak unto me in such an Air as you do, I can say nothing to you, but that I reverence the Queen more than to suspect her of any such imbecility, as you accuse her of: And for my particular, if I have been any obstacle, unto your affection, I have done nothing but what I ought; but yet (replied Indathirses) you do not directly tell me, whether or no you love the Queen, and whether the Queen loves you, and whether your business at Court will quickly be dispatched? I will give you no other answer (replied my Master) but as I did before, that I have done nothing but what I ought to do; and if you be not contented with it, than you must look out a way to get better satisfaction, for I will not refuse you any that I can. I do know very well, (replied Indathirses) that to assault an Ambassador, is in some degree a violation of the law of nations, which all the people in the world thinks sacred; but since I am a stranger as well as you, I do not think myself obliged by the laws of this Country; nor that I am any thing injurious unto honour, if I demand reparation for the affront which you have offered, in causing Thomiris to hate me. Most Just (answered my Master without any dolour at it) and if you please to walk some two hundred paces further out of their sight which follow us, you having a Sword as well as I, we may there end all differences, and see whether the love you bear unto the Queen, will make you Conqueror without any danger. Artamenes told us afterwards, that his anger to see himself persecuted by a man unto whom he was not any Rival, did so transport him, that he was not less incensed than if he had been in love with the Queen. Indathirses then accepting the offer, they began to walk until they were out of any sight of their men, who never minded them: Indathirses, and Artamenes drawing their Swords, began the combat, the particulars whereof I cannot well relate, since all we know was from the mouth of the Combatants, whose modesty would not permit them to set out their own valours: Artamenes told us that Indathirses showed himself a man of great Courage, and much valour, in this dangerous attempt: They made several passes at on another without a touch: but at last, since it was my Master's destiny ever to vanquish, his Sword was sanguined with the blood of Indathirses: The hurt was but slight, yet since it was in his right Arm, it much troubled him: so that fearing he should not be long able to manage his Sword; he resolved to come up very close unto my Master, who received him as gallantly: Indathirses was as tall as my Master: but there was ever such a strange vigour in the heart of Artamenes, as it always doubled his strength in any dangers, and which ever made him victorious; so that after a little time of dispute, Artamenes catcht hold of Indathirses Sword, and presenting his own sword unto his breast caused him to confess himself vanquished: my Master having both swords in his hands; you will now acknowledge (said he) that Artamenes is not altogether unworthy of the affection of Thomiris? I will confess (replied Indathirses) that you have valour enough to vanquish me, and that my fortune is not good enough to dispute with you for her: and I do confess, replied my Master, restoring him his sword, and embracing him (that I am not in love with Thomiris, That I never was nor ever will be: How, (replied Indathirses) are not you a lover of Thomiris? No, (replied Artamenes) and by my good will, shall never be any hindrance unto your felicity with her: since it is so (replied Indathirses) why would you fight? because I would better persuade you of the truth, (answered my Master) and not suffer you to suspect my valour: Indathirses was so much surprised and charmed with the generosity of Artamenes, that he could not choose but desire him to explain this Riddle, and used such pressing terms, and so full of submission, that my Master promised him he would; yet since he was hurt in the Arm, he persuaded him to return unto his tent to be dressed: the difficulty was how to get thither unperceived, and since it was not possible, Artamenes desired him not to be troubled at it, for least that Thomiris should be offended with him and banish him, that he would take it upon himself, and say that it was he who first assaulted: you are then it seems so much in her favour (answered Indathirses) that you fear not her anger? Rather say, (replied Artamenes smiling) that her anger is so little terrible to me, that I fear not to expose myself unto it. Mean while Sir, you may Imagine how much they were amazed which held their horses, when at their return they knew by the blood of Indathirses, they had been fight: that which most wondered them, was to see them seem as good friends, as when they went out: And indeed Indathirses and Artamenes, did ever after that love dearly. My Master because he would keep his word, after he had brought Indathirses to his Pavilion, sent Chrisantes to the Queen, to ask pardon for the combat which he had fought with Indathirsss: that he confessed he was to blame in it, therefore he begged pardon for Indathirses as well as himself. Thomiris much wondered at this combat, and could not guess the cause: Aripithes who was quite out with Indathirses, was angry with himself that he could not go unto him to ask what Artamenes had told him: yet the Queen, who could not be angry with Artamenes, reflected all against Indathirses; saying he had extremely offended her, by affronting an Ambassador in her Court. Artamenes knowing it by the return of Chrisantes, went himself to beseech her in the behalf of Indathirses; or if she would punish him, yet not to make that the ground of it: she urged my Master to tell her the cause of the combat, but he would not be wooed to tell her: yet in conclusion procured pardon both for himself and Indathirses. Aripithes, angry to be thus prevented by Indathirses, but much more to see my Master escape the danger of the combat, and be victorious, resolved, notwithstanding his pretensions unto the Queen, to quarrel with him also, and to seek out fonan opportunity: Mean while, the Prince of Tauroscithes, who was all impatience until he was better informed from the mouth of Artamenes., of all which he said unto him, did send very civilly unto him to put him in memory of his promise: which my Master the next day performed: He went unto his Tent; and ackowledged unto him, that his negotiation at this Court was, to propound a marriage between the Queen and Ciaxares; but not being able to give the reason, he found her very averse in the motion; and that he began infallibly to see he should return without effecting any thing, but the business which related unto Pirates upon the Caspian Sea, which was only the specious pretence of his voyage; so Sir, (said he to him) you may well Judge that I am in no fault, nor shall not be, although I do continue my transaction of the King's interest whom I serve: But trouble not yourself at it, for I do assure you, that I am not able to effect it. And that I may the more quiet your mind in regard of myself: I do confess unto you, that I am in love with one whose manacles I would not quit for all the Crowns of the world. Indathirses gave my Master many thanks for his generosity and freedom: and after he had promised unto him perpetual affection, how comes it to pass (said he to him) that you cannot promote your negotiation, since the Queen bestows so many marks of her esteem and affection upon you? Artamenes, desiring to conceal from Indathirses, the imbecility of Thomiris, told him that it was oft times the custom of Kings, to sweeten the bad success of a business, by their way and manner of transacting it: yet Indathirses was too much interested in the business to be so easily deceived, and not to discern the difference between the effects of common civility, and the effects of a violent passion: but do what he could, he could not move Artamenes to tell what he knew concerning the love of Thomiris; my Master always telling him, that he may very well content himself with knowing that he had no affection unto the Queen. This discourse being ended, Artamenes left him, and Chrisantes came to advertise him, that the Queen had given secret orders to observe his actions very carfully, lest he should escape away: you may Imagine Sir, how much this news troubled him; yet he dissembled it, and seemed as if he knew nothing of it. He divers times made visits to the Queen, who did not speak unto him but after an ordinary manner; sometimes she would be melancholy, sometimes she would pass from melancholy, unto vexation, and show some signs of anger, and fury: sometimes she would assume her civil and obliging humour, so that it was easy to Judge, that one and the same cause produced different effects: my Master did once more press upon Teres, who made answer, that he was almost in despair of doing him that service he would, but yet he could not give him any absolute answer: afterwards he let my Master know that the Queen commanded to tell him, she would have him stay until the return of Spargapises and Aritanus: that she could neither conclude of any thing, nor send him away until the King her son came back: But with all he told him, how she had sent secret orders not to return over soon, and beseeched him to pardon him if we were not able to perform those good offices which he promised: after this, we observed that upon the matter Artamenes was not at liberty, and that there was always many men which observed him: he could never walk, but he was accompanied with a great number, and had scarce the freedom to be in his tent without guard. The ordinary guards were not only doubled; but there was courts of guard placed in several distances, round about the Rails of the Camp. We understood by Gelonida, that to colour the business, it was given out, the Queen had received Intelligence how Artamenes had secret designs upon the country; and therefore without offering any violence unto him, unless her doubts were better cleared, she would have him carefully looked unto. Artamenes, seeing himself, brought unto this extremity, did not know what to resolve upon: he saw sufficiently that the marriage of Ciaxares could not be brought about: he knew that if he should move for new leave to depart, it would rather more restrain his Liberty, then do any good: he perceived by those orders which were given unto the Guards about the Tent Royal, and by them which observed his actions, that there was no possibility to escape: nor could he devise how to get himself out of this Labyrinth. Alas (said he sometimes unto us) what can I do? what shall I say to Ciaxares? how can I speak unto Mandana? Shall I tell them that Thomiris is in love with me? Is it possible for me to entertain them with any such discourse? But if I do not tell them, what will the King and the Princess think of my flight? What will they say of such strange proceedings? May they not well say I have lost my senses? Yet as the state of things does stand, this is the best which can happen unto me: My hopes of seeing Mandana will comfort me: and my innocence will not long lie hid: Thus was Artamenes descanting upon the business when Gelonida came to tell him, that she would advise him to be gone as soon as he could; but since he did not very well know how to do it; he thought good to colour it, and therefore he desired leave once more to depart: But she answered that it could not be with conveniency, and therefore he must absolutely wait the return of Spargapises. Artamenes then seeing himself denied, and a prisoner, was extremely melancholy; not but that Gelonida did contrive all the ways she could for his escape, but there was no means possible to bring it about. This did more disquiet my Master, than any thing else; for if he had been permitted but a sword in his hand, I do verily think, he would have hoped to escape by forcing the Guards, and killing all that opposed his passage, for such wonderful and incredible things have I seen him bring to pass. But when he began to consider that the Queen was not thus violent and unjust but because she loved him, he could not resolve to dishonour her by such an action; nor kill the subjects of that Princess, who●e crime was an error of love unto him. Sorrow did sit so heavy upon his soul that Indathirses, now healed of his hurt, and coming to visit him, did perceive it, and did so urge him to acknowledge that Thomiris loved him, and that her love was the cause of his sorrows, as he could interpret it no otherwise, and at last told him how the Queen expressed such things unto him as did induce him to believe it: and further told Indathirses, that he would infinitely oblige him if he would devise some way whereby he might escape. Now you may plainly see, Generous Indathirses (said he to him) that I am not your Rival, since I do desire your furtherance to rid me away from Thomiris. I do indeed, (answered Indathirses) and plainly see you are in no fault, but that on the contrary I am much obliged to you: But for all that (said he) you do cause abundance of trouble in my soul; for truly, to discover the bottom of my heart unto you, I should be less troubled than I am, if Thomiris loved one who loved her: But that this Princess who is so admirably fair and amiable; who has a soul so great, and so unalterably settled as to resist the love of Aripithes and myself so long; should after all this, fall in love with a man who loves not her, I do really confess unto you, that I cannot resent it but with abundance of extraordinary sorrow: 'Tis true, I should be more jealous, if you loved her, but not half so much grieved: But in that state wherein I do find myself, pardon me (said he to him) if your admirable merits can justify Thomiris in my thoughts: No, Generous Artamenes, I will love her no longer; I will either pull that passion out of my soul, or else I'll die: and the more to facilitate your escape, I will determine upon my own; To that end, I will tell the Queen, I have received orders from the King of the Tauroscithes my father, to come unto him, and desire her leave to be gone: Since I am not Artamenes (said he sighing) she will permit it; and the better to further our design, you shall fain yourself sick: In the night you shall come into my Tent, and I will convey you away with me; your servants may also pass amongst my Train, and we will go out so early in the morning, that the Guards cannot know you: You may appoint some servants to stay behind, who may tell it that their Master is not well, they dare not go into his chamber until it be late: This devise will afford you more time, and you will be further off, before your flight be discovered. Those who watch and observe you in the day time, commit all the care of you in the night unto the night Guards, who watch both within, and without the Camp, so that the project will apparently take effect; and I shall set you in such a way, where, unless I be much deceived, they will never seek you: In short, Indathirses told him; I will be both your guide and your convoy: But (said he) do not think, that this office which I do you, is out of any interest or end; for let me tell you once more, I will love Thomiris no longer: Absence which uses to cure such maladies, shall perfect that which anger has begun: In a word, Sir, to make my discourse the shorter; though Artamenes was extremely unwilling to take from Thomiris such an illustrious lover; yet Indathirses did press it so upon him, that he accepted of his offer: The business was done with more ease than we could expect: Indathirses asked leave and obtained it: My master counterfeited being sick; we went out of our Tent unto that of Indathirses (which was very near) in the night: we appointed one of those who was to stay behind at the chamber door to conceal our flight as long as he could: at the first break of day, we went out of the Tents Royal unperceived by any, because we were mingled amongst the Train of Indathirses: The guards who had orders from the Queen to let this Prince pass, did not oppose our pass: so that we were got out of the Camp, and out of their furthest Courts of Guards undiscovered by any: but I forgot to tell you Sir, how much it troubled my Master thus to leave his men; so that if Gelonida, who was privy to our departure, had not assured him, that she had prevalency enough with the Queen to prevent any ill usage unto them: I do believe he would not have gone: but this virtuous woman, did so faithfully promise to protect them, that he did believe it, and took her counsel: Leaving a Letter for Thomiris, whereby he endeavoured to colour and excuse his departure. Mean time, our march proved so prosperous, that we were not found by them who questionless did seek for us; for Indathirses did lead us such a way, as none would ever suspect us to take. My Master would have quitted this Prince from being his guide any longer; yet Indathirses would needs continue his office; for Sir, since he imagined, that as soon as the flight of Artamenes was discovered, the Queen would cause all the passages over Araxes to be stopped; therefore he conducted him unto a place higher up the River, where it parted into three divisions, and where they might ford it over: It was just to the side of Araxes that Indathirses conducted Artamenes, whom he loved exceedingly, although he had been a cause of much sorrow unto him: My Master did then ask pardon, for being in some sort, a cause of his griefs, and both of them embracing one another with equal tenderness of affection, they parted with reciprocal promises to love one another eternally. Indathirses looked upon Artamenes as he passed the River; who being landed on the other side, saluted the Prince of Tau●oscithes, and he him again: Afterwards Indathirses took the way unto his Country, though now he was a good way out of it; and we took that which conducted unto Cappadocia: But Sir, that which made the first days journeys most unpleasant was, because Artamenes had much ado to resolve with himself what he should say unto Ciaxares; yet after he had well bethought himself, he resolved to tell him only, that he did not find things in so good a state, as to move Thomiris openly concerning his marriage; and that this Princess being persuaded unto it by some ill disposed persons, caused a rumour to be raised, that he had some bad designs in agitation; that he being advertised, how they were jealous of his actions, demanded leave to depart; which being denied, and seeing they resolved to Arrest him, he thought it his duty to prevent it, lest any disgrace should reflect upon the King: In conclusion, after he had fancied what to say, the hopes of seeing Mandana again, did revive some joy in his soul; and after this, we traveled not a day wherein we did not discover some new satisfaction in the countenance of Artamenes: Every step he took towards Mandana was a fresh delight; and his own thoughts did so pleasantly entertain him, that he did not need either the company of Chrisantes or me, to divert him: Commonly he went either some thirty paces before, or thirty paces behind the rest of the company, that he might study out his thoughts with more freedom. One day then when we were not above five hundred furlongs from Themiscira, and because our journey was great, we were gone out before day did appear: After we had rode above an hour, we came into a Forest, when the Sun from the East did first gild the clouds: There was one of my Master's men, named Ortaliques, riding upon a white horse, and being the first which road that the rest might follow him in the dark: Artamenes followed him; Chrisantes and myself with some others followed Artamenes: Marching in this order, and this approaching light beginning to pierce through the thick Forest, permitting us to discern objects which were not far distant; my Master discovered upon his right hand, a great and rich Pavilion erected under some trees, and guarded by many Soldiers, and seemed as if they would forbid entrance unto any which should come there: This sight so extraordinary, begot a little curiosity in my Master: But his mind was taken up with the Idea of his Princess, that it stopped his curiosity to ask what it was: when he was gone a little further, he could not choose but turn his head aside, and he saw through the boughs and trees a woman who lifting up the hanging of the Tent, seemed to look whether or no it were day. About ten or twelve paces further, he who went first and was called Ortaliques, being then some twenty paces from Artamenes, he saw a man in arms, who getting upon his horse which his Page did hold, came up to him, & asked him whether he was that Countryman? and whether he could tell him which way he should cross the Forest, and never enter into the plains? No Sir, (aswered Ortaliques) but perhaps those which come after me may better inform you; then Artamenes came up and asked him what this Cavalier did say? But whilst he was relating it, my Master saw a dozen horsemen coming, who after they had looked upon this stranger, cried out, It's he my companions, it's he; send presently to inform our Captain: than one of them spurred his horse, and road in all haste to the place from whence they came: Mean while, the eleven which remained, fell upon this unknown Cavalier, who being retreated some certain paces, commanded his Page aloud, to go in all haste, and cause them to depart; for (said he, speaking of Artamenes and the rest, who seeing the inequality of the combat, had their swords drawn ready to defend him) this relief which the gods have have sent me, is sufficient to make my party good with them; after which I shall be with you. Indeed this stranger was not deceived; and the generosity of Artamenes not permitting him to see one single man in his presence, assaulted by eleven; never stood considering what he had to do, but as soon as he saw these Cavaliers assault a single man, drew his sword, and commanded us to do the like; so that advancing towards these blades, he gave time unto him whom they would have destroyed, to speak what I already told you unto his Page; Artamenes understood not what it was he said, although I did very distinctly hear it; as soon as he had given that order, this unknown Cavalier, came in to disengage my Master from his enemies, but he perceived that he had done it himself, by killing three of them with his own hands, and we, the rest of his company seconding his valour as well as it was possible for us; so that this unknown partner joining with us, it was an easy matter to vanquish the remainder of our enemies, it being most certain, that he was as valiant as any man in the world; he fought then as a man that would testify unto his liberator, he was not unworthy of that protection which was given him: But as the last of his enemies fell dead by the hand of Artamenes, and as he came unto him to render him thanks, the day being full light enough, he knew him (as we imagined afterwards;) so that immediately altering his design, he recoiled back & went towards Ortaliques, who was looking round about to spy whether there were any more enemies to fight withal; and being come near him, tell your master (said he in great haste) that I am very sorry to be so uncivil, and seem so ungrateful: But since my Destinies compel me to it, I hope he will excuse me. After he had spoken these words in great haste, he road presently through the trees, and followed the same way which the Ladies and those which were with them took: Ortaliques told my Master what the stranger said: This passage, you may well suppose did much surprise Artamenes, since he could not imagine why he should so hastily send this compliment by his man, and how pressing soever his occasions were, it would not have retarded him more to have spoke it unto himself, as well as unto his servants: he thought that in fight he heard the tone of a voice which was not altogether unknown unto him, yet he could not recall who it should be: so that longing exceedingly to know more of this adventure, he went to look amongst the dead, if there were none amongst them which had been known unto him: and viewing them, he found one, who by reason of a great wound received in his right hand, and another in his throat which made him speechless, so that he was not to be understood by any thing but signs: this wounded Cavalier no sooner saw may Master, but as we might conjecture by his signs he knew him, although none of us could remember him, or ever saw him: and to say truth it was not strange at all, since it is very ordinary for thousands to know the General of an Army, whom he knows not again. This man, as soon as he saw my Master near him, seemed to be very joyful, and exceedingly desirious to make him understand the adventure; but the more he endeavoured to explain himself, the more he puzzled Artamenes, for he could not pronounce a word or a syllable, nor was there any way to draw any conjecture from him: Sometimes he would point towards that way which the unknown Cavalier had taken, as if he wished us to go after him: Sometimes he would point towards that place from whence they came, as if he expected some relief from thence: afterterwards, he would look about, and make us view that Pavilion, which the men belonging unto that unknown Cavalier had left, and carried away the Ladies which were in it: In short, all his signs and actions did but augment the disquiet of Artamenes; who to see if he could find any thing in that Pavilion which might better inform him, lighted from his horse and went in; but though he could not meet with any thing which could add any thing unto his knowledge: yet notwithstanding he could not leave it: sometimes he was in a mind, though he knew not why, to go after him whom he had so opportunely relieved: otherimes he resolved to tarry there in hopes that some would come and give him better intelligence of the accident: and sometimes he would chide himself for losing so much time which was so precious: what shall I do here (said he) and interest myself in other men's business, when I may be drawing nearer my Princess? and as if he were ashamed of that fault, he went out of the Pavilion: got upon horseback and commanded one of his men to take up the wounded man behind him until he came unto the next house where he might be dressed, and from whence he might send to bury the dead, who by their Arms seemed to be Cappadocians; that which was most advantageous unto us upon this occasion was, that there was none of us wounded, except Chrisantes, who received a slight scratch in his left Arme. Artamenes remembering that there was one of these twelve Cavaliers, which turned back as if he went to fetch relief, would needs stay a while to see if any came, notwithstanding the counsel of Chrisantes to the contrary; for indeed he supposed if there came any men they would be numerous, and that Artamenes was not in a condition to resist them, yet it was not that reason which hindered him from staying longer? But seeing that the wounded man was in much danger; and that his throat with strivinge to speak was so swelled that the man almost lost his senses, and fearing it might choke him, he marched in all haste unto the next house or town, as soon as he came there, he sent for a Chirurgeon, to search the wound in his neck, and to try if there were any possibility to recover his voice. For three days together, this wounded man could not speak a syllable, nor was there yet any likelihood: Artamenes seeing that, commanded the Chirurgeon to have a great care of him: he gave his Recompense before hand; and continued on his Journey: He did inquire of all those whom he met with in the house where we were, whether there were any men seen lately in arms: but we found none, neither there, nor any where upon the Road, who could inform us any thing: Artamenes was so possessed with a profound musing that we marched all that day, and the next within six hours of night without pronouncing one syllable: But when we came to the banks of Thermodon, and within sight of Themiscira where the King told him he would stay till his return, ●oy did then a little move his heart, and turning himself towards me (who was next him) with a pleasant countenance, At the last, Feraulas (said he to me) I see the place where my Princess is, and by consequence, I hope to see her presently: But, O heavens, shall I find her the same I left her? shall I obtain from the sincerity of her virtue, so much happiness, as to hear her say she thought upon me in my absence? Sir, (said I to him) although the Princess do not tell it you, yet you may well believe it, for I am most certain, it is impossible she should do otherwise: Indeed I had good reason for what I said; for a few days before we parted from Themiscyra, Martesia had so much goodness in her, as to trust me with all the advantageous thoughts which the Princess entertained concerning my Master: But she did so expressly forbid me to speak of it unto Artamenes, that I never durst reveal them; giving him only some hopes in general of being beloved, without particularising any thing: And to tell you the truth, I saw him so grieved at his absence from the Princess, that I made no question, but if he had known all these small circumstances which I have told you, he would not have died for grief; But in conclusion Sir after much such like discourse between my Master and me, in coming near Themiscyra; and after much rejoicing in hopes of seeing his Mandana, we came within a hundred paces of the gates, where we met one that was a servant unto the Princess: Artamenes no sooner saw him, but road towards him in all haste, and asked him very earnestly concerning the King, and the Princess. Ah Sir, said the servant, would you had come four days sooner: At these words my Master began to look pale, and presently to convert his hopes into tears, and his joy into sorrow, he looked in the eyes of the servant, for the cause of his discourse, but not being able to divine it; what (said he) is there any disastrous accident chanced unto the King or the Princess? yes Sir, (replied the servant) and doubtless the greatest that could chance, for the King has lost the Princess his Daughter; How, (replied my Master desperately confounded) is the Princess dead? No Sir (answered he) but she is carried away; I do think it very happy Sir, that the mind of Artamenes was taken up with the worst resentment first: for indeed I am fully persuaded, if the thought of her death had not instantly preceded his thought of her being taken away, he would have sunk down dead upon the place. How (cried he out) is Mandana taken away? Who is the man that durst attempt so rash and unjust design? Philidaspes (answered the servant) whom they say, was the Prince of Assyria: Philidaspes, replied Artamenes; Yes Sir, replied he, and the same misfortune would have it so, that a party which was sent after her, were killed by some which rescued her, of which the King is assured▪ Ha my friends (cried out Artamenes in turning towards us) we need not question but that it was we, who have killed the protectors of Mandana; who have relieved her Ravisher, and who are accessary to her carrying away. Sir, said Chrisantes unto him, is it not better to go into the Town, where we may be better informed of all the circumstances in this great misfortune? Artamenes, notwithstanding his despair, finding Chrisantes speak reason, set forward; But heavens knows, how altered from what he was before, and what a prodigious change, sorrow made immediately in him; he had so sad and so terrible an aspect all at once, as one might easily see anger mingled with his melancholy; and that now jealousy was more in his heart then love. He pressed the Princess servant, to tell him how the misfortune happened: He understood then, that three days before this accident, Aribeus moved the King to hunt some thirty furlongs from Themiscira, and during his absence, the design was executed; But, said my Master to him, how could they execute it? It was no difficult matter (replied Mandana's servant) for the Guards were corrupted, and it was they who carried her away: also, it is thought one of her women betrayed her, out of a secret jealousy she had, that the Princess preferred Martesia before her: You know Sir, (added he) that the river Thormodon runs under the windows of the Princess Mandana, and that those windows are so low, that there needs no stairs to descend them. Then Sir, one of the Guards observing the hour in which the Princess was used to retire, went and knocked at the door of the outer Chamber, as she was ready to undress herself; that woman which was of the conspiracy, opening the door, went and told the Princess, there was one of the Guard, who had some important matter to acquaint her with. The Princess wondering at it a little, did for all that command him to enter: Madam, said he to her, I come to advertise you, that there is a design in agitation, to carry you away this next night. The Princess knowing that heretofore she heard of such a thing, was much astonished; yet notwithstanding after she had thanked the man, she asked him how he came to know it, and how it might be prevented? To give more credit unto my words (said he to her) you need only to step unto the window, where I will show you the bars half loose. This wise Princess being desirous to be satisfied of the truth, went unto the window: That woman who was of the Plot, taking a candle to light her; But, Oh heavens, she was no sooner there but the Guard breaking out the bars of the window carried her away, for they were filled loose before hand. I leave you to judge how the Princess was amazed at it: She commanded him to hold off; but much more was she astonished, when she saw six more of the Guards enter, and taking her by violence, committed her into the hands of her Ravisher, who was in a Boat under the window with many armed men. Mandana at the first did obstinately resist him; but was forced to submit: One of her women reported, that when she knew him to be Philidaspes by his voice (for he was disguised) she cried out: Ha Philidaspes, if Artamenes were here thou durst not attempt this: But in conclusion Sir, Philidaspes carried her away, and all her women cried lamentably out, but all in vain; for those of the Guard which were not of the Plot, desiring to enter, could not, for they which betrayed, barred the doors behind: The confusion was so great that these women belonging to the Princess Mandana, cried out on every side, that they had taken away their Princess, and did not open the doors unto those which could not enter but by breaking them. I forgot to tell you, that these Ravishers did also take away with them that woman which was of the conspiracy; but as for Martesia, they would not take her; but yet notwithstanding, this generous woman would not forsake her Mistress, but held her so hard and fast by the clothes, that they were constrained to take her also: although they doubtless heard the Princess cry out; Ah Martesia do not forsake me: At the last Sir, the Boat going with the current of the River, went at such a●rate as they were quickly a furlong off on the other side of the water, where there was as many horses waiting for them as there was men, so that it was not possible to be remedied; for before the Governor of Themisoira could be advertized of the accident, or could know what course to take, they were got so far as there was no hopes of recovery: Yet notwithstanding, the Captain of the Guard taking horse with two hundred men only, divided them into several Parties: One of them was the twelve which met Philidaspes, and knew him rather by the Arms he wore, then by his face; for having been so long concealed in the Country, he so changed his habit and countenance as he was not knowable: Those twelve men then knowing him, as I told you, and seeing a great Pavilion erected, wherein doubtless was the Princess, and it being probable, he would pitch his Tent as soon as he was a good distance off, one of them returned in all haste to advertise their Captain, that he might speedily come and relieve his men, who since some strangers had took part with Philidaspes might be in danger to be defeated; but he was so unfortunate, that he could not meet with him. Desperate as not to find him, he returned in full haste to the place where he left his companions engaged with Philidaspes, and with those men who accidentally met him in that place: But oh heavens, he found there ten of his companions dead, and found not the eleventh at all; he saw the Pavilion standing, but none in it, and he could not discover any sign that one of Philidaspes his men were killed: So Sir, this man came to acquaint the King, who came hither in all haste as soon as he heard of the accident. He hath sent unto all the Ports, to prevent the passage of Philidaspes, in case he intent to take Sea: But to tell you truth, there is no great likelihood of catching him that way, since they have failed in their first discovery. Moreover yesterday (added the servant) there run a Manifesto throughout Themiscira, by which it appears that Philidaspes, says he is Labinet, Son unto Queen Nitocris, and sole heir unto the Kingdom of Assyria. Moreover he says;  
THat Cappadocia by right belongs unto the Crown of Assyria, and therefore, he could not think of any milder way to conquer it, then by making Mandana Queen of Assyria; That the Law which forbids any stranger to marry the Princess, ought not to be objected against him, since by right the Cappadocians are his subjects: That the reason why he did not ask the permission of Ciaxares, was because he certainly knew, that all the Medeans hating the Assyrians, both Astyages and Ciaxares would not consent he should marry the Princess: That as he is not a stranger unto the Princess of Cappadocia, no more is she a stranger unto him: So that he hopes the Queen Nitocris will approve of his design, and receive the Princess Mandana with much joy.  
There are many other things in the Manifesto Sir (added he) which would be too tedious to rehearse. During all this discourse, Artamenes said not a word; not that he harkened unto it with any serenity of soul; but on the contrary, one might discover in his face such visible marks of turbulent passions, that he would make all that looked upon him to pity him: but the reason was, because he perceived that he could not speak without discovering too much excessive sorrow unto a man in whom he had no confidence, and therefore he thought it better to keep close the vastness of grief unto himself. Chrisantes easily observing his disquiet, went away in all haste as soon as the servant had ended his relation. Yet Artamenes, not knowing well how he should endure the sight of Ciaxares without too open a discovery of his despair, sent Chrisantes to see how the King did, to the end he might have more time to prepare himself for so difficult a transaction. My Master, seeing only me with him, looked upon me in such lamentable manner as would have infused pity, into the hardest heart of stone. Feraulas (said he to me) Mandana is carried away, and carried away by Philidaspes; Philidaspes I say, who I could have killed several times: But oh heavens (cried he out) is it possible the great Antipathy between him and me whilst I took him to be my Rival should ever let me mistake the Ravisher of Mandana, and let my own arm assist my most mortal enemy? What; my most Divine Mandana (said he all in fury) were you in that Pavilion which I saw? and was that unknown stranger, Philidaspes? Perhaps it was you I saw lift up the hanging of the Tent? have I both destroyed you and myself? have I slain those which would have relieved you? Did I hinder them from killing Philidaspes? was I in a condition to deliver you, and did not? did I help him to carry you away? And could that Traitor Philidaspes who questionless knew me, accept of the assistance of his enemy? Alas, Mandana, are not you in Themiscira? are you in the power of Philidaspes? But oh heavens, was it not too much, you should do all this by violence, but I must contribute unto it? & must the injurious Philidaspes carry you away by the assistance of my hand, and my valour? But never think, Philidaspes (added he) quietly to enjoy such an Illustrious conquest; In what part of the earth soever thou art, it shall cost thee thy life. Yes, though thou shouldst be in Babylon, the greatest and strongest City of the world, in the midst of all thy guards, sitting upon the throne of thy fathers, yet will I punish thee for this most injurious Act. Nothing but thy blood can wash it out of my memory, and nothing but thy death shall be the penalty of thy crime: oh heavens, (said he) unto what dire misfortunes am I destinied? Ha Thomiris, that your unjust passion should cost me so dear, and that I should be so rigorously punished for troubling your tranquillity. But divine Princess, said he; who was pleased, (as they assured me) to pronounce my name, when they took you away; will you remember me in Assyria? shall not the tears of Philidaspes charm you? will you not pardon his crime? will not the magnificence of Babylon blind your eyes? and that great court invite your mind? will you not praise the violence of Philidaspes, to be excess of love? will you not be the same upon the Banks of Euphrates which you were wont to be upon the banks of Iris and Thermodon: oh divinest Princess shall not Artamenes be preferred before Philidaspes? and Cyrus before the King of Assyria? Alas, said he further, did the gods, the first minute that I saw Philidaspes move me to hate him, that I should serve him in such an unjust occasion as this? how was it possible my Rival could so disguise, himself? I knew him when I ought not to have known him; and I did not know him at that critical time when it was most important for me to know it was Philidaspes, and who Philidaspes was. Imagine Feraulas (said he to me) how great would have been my joy, if the gods had permitted me to have known the truth; when after I had fought and vanquished Philidaspes, I should have gone unto the pavilion, where I should have found my Princess, and delivered her and brought her back unto Themiscira; But you may imagine how extreme is my sorrows and my despair, since it is I only who am the only cause of her loss; it is I who put her into the hands of Philidaspes; and am accessary to the taking her away, I might have joined with those who assaulted him, but alas I assaulted them, I might have saved Mandana, but alas I have Lost her; yet I must repair the Loss if it be Possible; or at the Lest be revenged of him who was the cause of it: Assist me, O ye most Just Gods, with constancy enough to support this dismal accident and not die: I know that death is a remedy against all misfortunes, and that this remedy would cure me of all mine: But divine Mandana, you have at this time done that in me, which the most affrighting dangers never could: yes my Princess, that heart which never apprehended death amidst the most bloody battles, has now some fears of it under the heavy load of his discontents: I do fear, my Princess, I do indeed, but I think it is not a base and feeble fear, but since I fear not death for any cause but to expose my life to gain your liberty, doubtless you will pardon me: but alas who can tell, whether ever you shall speak again unto Artamenes, or Artamenes ever speak unto Mandana? how ever, (said he) I am sure I shall look Philidaspes in the face, though he be the King of Assyria, and it shall not be long before I disturb his felicity. As Artamenes was thus resenting his fate, Chrysantes returned, and told him that he might see the King; but since his return was divulged, more than half the Court was assembled about Ciaxares; which news not much pleased him, fearing nothing more than to have too many spectators of his sorrow: The sight of the Castle where he saw the Princess last, redoubled his sadness: the presence of the King, did so damp his soul and made his sorrows so apparent in the sight of all that great assembly, that though Ciaxares was much sadded, yet was he much more. This Prince no sooner saw my Master, but never remembering the business of his voyage, he reflected upon that loss, which he had. Alas Artamenes (said he to him (Philidaspes has not been so happily discovered in his second enterprise, as he was in his first: The Gods have permitted him to force away my Daughter; I wish Sir, (replied my Master) that I could either by my valour or my good fortune, regain her; and that I could prevent the unjust Philidaspes from long enjoying that treasure which I might easily have taken from him: The King, not well understanding these words, desired the explanation of them; and Artamenes could not hold from relating that business, which most of any thing in the world did sensibly trouble him: he told the King how he had met with Philidaspes: and how he saw the pavilion set up in the Forest: how he had killed them which assaulted the ravisher of Mandana: and how he had contributed to the carrying away of Mandana; This strange event did so much surprise the King, & augmented his sorrows in such a new manner as he could not heed Artamenes and his grief, which appeared exceeding much when he had ended his relation: But by good fortune; all they which saw him, did believe, that this excessive sorrow which so much appeared in his face and words, was only an effect of that odd, cross adventure which he had met withal. Insomuch as all the Court were so sad at the misfortune of the Princess, as that there was none so little interested in it, as could precisely observe his actions. After this fatal relation was ended, and every one spoke of it with wonder as well as woe, (Sir, said my Master, speaking to Ciaxares) will you permit me to go after and seek Philidaspes? I cannot call him the Prince of Assyria, since I can hardly believe that a son of the Queen Nitocris who is one of the greatest and wisest Princess of the world, should attempt so unjust a design: True it is, (added he) that it is also hardly to be believed, that any man who is not of a Royal extract, durst else undertake an enterprise so bold as to force away the Princess of Cappadocia. Ah Artamenes (said Ciaxares) the aversion which you ever had unto Philidaspes was better ground than you thought, and I doubt not but you will infinitely interest yourself in this business: Doubt it not Sir, (replied my Master) for I promise you, either to deliver her, or die by the hand of her Ravisher. After this, the King went into his Closet, and called Artamenes after him; to the end he might ask him, whether it was true that he came back without any train or equipage, as he had been told. Artamenes then told him, what I have told you: But since the King's soul was so sadded with the loss of the Princess, he cared not much for the bad success of his voyage, and having such need of my Master's valour, in such a dire conjuncture of affairs; he never examined, whether what he had said unto him were likely or no. Artamenes urged him again to give him leave to follow Philidaspes, though there was small hopes of finding him: And since it might so hap that the Princess might fall sick by the way, and retard his march, Ciaxares consented unto his desire: and gave order for three hundred horse to follow him, the next morning my Master asked the King if any thing of the conspiracy were discovered; and whether he suspected any as assistants unto Philidaspes: but the King told him, that Aribeus had used all possible means to inquire into the business, yet unto this hour could never have any conjecture: my Master had a great desire to tell the King, that Aribeus was not a fit man to be employed in that inquisition, by reason of the great friendship between him and Philidaspes; but he stayed until his Jealousies were grounded upon better bottoms than surmises, and until he had more plain and convincing arguments against him. Then he left the King, and without the closing of an eye all that night, waited impatiently for break of day. Mean while Sir not to hold you with relation of all the agitations of his restless mind, and the weariness this last voyage had caused in him, give me leave only to tell you, that in fifteen days which were employed in quest of the Princess, we met with nonewes that could afford any hopes unto my Master: but on the contrary, we were advertized, how after many cross and blind ways which they took, purposely to deceive followers, Philidaspes was arrived with the Princess at a town within his own kingdom, which is towards the frontiers of Medea, & in such a place where he might raise an army too considerable for us to attempt the rescue of the Princess: we learned also for certain, that Philidaspes was really son unto the Queen Nitocris, & so we returned again unto Themiscira, without effecting any thing, but knowing that Mandana was in the hands of such a Prince, as might, (if the Queen his mother would consent) bring an Army of two hundred thousand men into the field. The thought of this, though it dejected the spirits of all others, yet did it elevate the soul of Artamenes in lieu of driving it into despair, and the quality of his Rival, did in some sort, comfort him in his disgrace. All the rest which before went after the Ravisher of Mandana, did fruitlessly return: they only told us, that the wounded man whom we left by the way, did recover of his wounds. Mean while Aribeus, (who as you shall know by the sequel of my discourse) was not innocent from this conspiracy, conceiving that though perhaps my Master would not find Philidaspes, yet he might perchance meet with some of the guards which he had corrupted and suborned, did pretend a journey unto Pteria whereof he was the governor, under colour that some ancient Greek inhabitants of Sinope, did attempt something against the service of the King: for Sir, I think you know how this Town was built by the Milesiens, and how that Grecian Colony has often changed masters. Indeed it would be a difficult thing to define exactly, which is true Sinope, it is so filled with inhabitants of several nations; having been one while possessed by the Grecians another by the Galatians; Sometime again by the Paphlagonians, and at this day by the King of Cappadocia. Aribeus therefore raised this false seditious report, that under pretence of it, he might be gone from Themiscyra, before Artamenes returned, and so came unto Sinope as I said before: So that my Master being rid of him, was in absolute and quiet possession of the King's mind: But as the state of things stood, there was nothing to be thought upon but war. Ciaxares sent first to the Queen Nitocris to ask her whether she allowed of her son's Act; and to demand the Princess his daughter: he sent also unto Astyages to acquaint him with the misfortune, and require aid, mean while, he levied as many soldiers as ever both these two Kings were able to set out: though those orders which he sent unto Aribeus, to raise men in his government, was invalid unto him, for that Traitor had disposed them for other designs. He made a show as if he would execute the King's commands; and feigning to be sick would not come at Themiscyra. Mean while, we understood by the return of him who was sent unto Queen Nitocris, that she disclaimed the action, of the Assyrian Prince; and that he▪ was not yet come unto Babylon: at the same time, those who were left among the Massagetes returned, and told us how Gelonida saved them, about fifteen days after our departure: they brought a Letter from that virtuous woman unto Artamenes; by which she said in general, that his absence caused abundance of trouble in the Court of Thomiris: That she had much ado to obtain pardon for his men; yet at last she told her nothing but the return of Artamenes could give her satisfaction: and that he must either repent, or else she die, and revenge herself that way: yet we had no sooner rejoiced at the return of our men, but we understood that Astyages falling sick upon the news of the Princess being taken away by the Prince of Assyria; was so excessively moved at it, in consideration of the King his son's interest, and in consideration of his hatred unto the Assyrians, that a Fever seized upon him and he died within four days: declaring by his will that all his subjects should take up Arms for the liberty of the Princess Mandana. The news of his death almost moved my master to tell Ciaxares whom he was: but when he remembered all the expressions which he used, when Cyrus was discoursed on, his fears to be deprived of that honour to deliver his Princess prevented him: for said he, if by chance he should not change his thoughts, who knows whether or no he will banish me? and whether in lieu of delivering my Princess, I procure my own death? perhaps he will presently ●log me with fetters, and so this Army which ought to be employed for Mandana's liberty, will be disabled. Mean while Ciaxares must prepare himself to take possession of Medea's throne, and go to Ecbatan, but before his arrival, he caused troops to be raised, because he would lose no time. The Cappadocians were much troubled to see themselves both with a King, and without a Queen at once, especially since their Princess was in the Assyrian Power, foreseeing that if they should return under their government, than their kingdom would be no more than a Province; yet this fear was not universal, for there were many which still retained a secret affection unto the Assyrian nation. Aribeus, as every one thought, was of that mind, even at that very time when he was so loved by Ciaxares; some also said that the original of his house was extracted from Assyria. How ever it was, when the King was ready, not yet suspecting any treason in Aribeus, he commanded him to come unto him, intending to declare him Regent of the Realm: but he not daring to trust him, and fearing lest this seeming honour, was but a trap to secure him: he sent word back unto Ciaxares that he was sick; and if he were pleased to honour him with the government of the Cappadocians, he beseeched him to send such orders unto him: yet the King being informed that Aribeus was not so sick as he feigned, began to be Jealous of him, and committed all the authority unto a man of great quality, called Ariobantes, which so incensed Aribeus, as he resolved to act as afterwards he did. Artamenes scent Ortalques unto Artaxes brother of Aribeus, to command him in the name of Ciaxares, to continue in the King of Pontus his service: Ciaxares went then to Ecbatan, and my Master accmpanied him. The King of Persia at the same time sent an Embssador to the King of Medes (for henceforward we will call Ciaxares so) to condole with him the death of Astyages, and the taking away of his daughter the Princess Mandana; and also within a few days after, he sent another, to congratulate his happy coming unto that Crown, and to offer him assistance in his wars against the Prince of Assyria: Now Sir, was Chrisantes very much entangled; yet he feared not that my Master would be known, for questionless he was very much altered as well as I, who was almost of the same age, yet he was sure that himself being much elder than we would be discovered, so that against his will, he resolved to tell a handsome Lie: he told then the Persian Ambassadors in equivocal terms, that he being in utter despair ever to bring into Persia that Prince whom he carried out, he resolved to wander from Court to Court, and from Country to Country: he further told them, that in a voyage unto Greece, there he met with Artamenes, and has indissolvably tied himself unto his fortunes: Adusius whom you see here, and was then one of the Ambassadors, moved him to relate all the particulars in the shipwreck of Cyrus, and to tell him whether his body was ever found: but Chrisantes demeaned himself very handsomely in the discourse, telling him, that they which escaped from the shipwreck never knew what became of them which perished: Moreover, he beseeched both him and the other Ambassador, not to tell Ciaxares that ever he had the honour to be with young Cyrus, lest the hatred which he bore unto that unfortunate young Prince should reflect upon him: Chrisantes also asked him, whether the loss of Cyrus did not extraordinarily perplex the King and the Queen of Persia? Adusius did answer him, that they had been much troubled at it, and still were; but as they were both of them very wise, so they knew how to qualify their sorrows; and could not choose but assist that Prince which rejoiced at their loss: This they will do, both out of Generosity, and Policy, since upon the whole matter, Ciaxares was not unblamable for what he did: for the resentments of Astyages, the predictions of the Magis, whom the Medeans much reverence, and the Manies of the stars did induce him thereunto. But presently after Sir, we were informed that the Queen Nitocris was dead, and that the Prince her Son was come unto Babylon, and brought the Princess Mandana thither in triumph. This intelligence did much trouble Artamenes, for as long as she lived, it had been much more easy for him to deliver the Princess then now, it being to be supposed, that virtuous Queen would never protect any injustice, though committed by her own Son; But seeing that he could not rescue Mandana, until he had taken the prime Town in the World, and subverted all Asia, this did infinitely perplex him: not that the greatness of the enterprise did at all astonish him, but because he apprehended that it would take a long time to execute so great a design▪ and would move the King of Assyria to take some violent resolutions against the Princess. Mean while Ciaxares having accepted the King of Persias offer; Aducius returned in all haste to inform the King his Master, and all sides thought upon nothing but preparations for War: The King of Assyria, who was not ignorant of the Mede●n preparations, began to act his part. Mazares the Prince of Saces, who as you know was his vassal, and who then was in Babylon, promised him his assistance: And you are not ignorant Sir, how the King of Arabia, did as you did, that is, he took part with the King of Assyria: Also it is rather unto the generous Thrasibulus, whom I now speak unto, then unto this Illustrious company, since there is none of them, only he, which is ignorant of what I shall hereafter tell you.  
Then the King of Hyrcania interrupting Feraulas, told him, that it was true indeed, it was only unto Thrasibulus unto whom he was to address his speech: yet notwithstanding, although he did know a good part of what he had to relate, yet he should be very glad to have it revived in his memory: Thrasibulus thanked the King of Hyrcania for it, and Feraulas continued his discourse as followeth.  
The King of Assyria then preparing for war as well as we, was not only assured of help from the King of Lydia, from the King of Hyrcania, and from the King of Arabia, but also from the Prince of Saces, from the Prince of the Paphlagonians, and from the Indians. As for the King of Phrygia, he was also pressingly solicited, to take the King of Assyria's part, following the Treaty of Peace which was made with the Queen Nitocris▪ But since he had wars with Croessus, and that this Prince was to assist the King of Assyria as well as he, he told this Ravisher of Mandana, that he was willing to assist him, provided his Troops might not mingle with the Lydians his enemies, which was promised him, but which was not performed. This Prince had a good mind not to engage himself on the King of Assyria's side: But having not ratified that Treaty of Peace which was confirmed between the King of Pontus, and Ciaxares, he resolved upon that which he could not help. As for the King of Pontus, he was not in a condition to take either part, for he was embroiled with Civil wars in his own Kingdom, which did extremely press, and which doubtless would have destroyed him, if they have not already done it. Observe Sir, how many Kings and how many Princes had engaged themselves on the unjust side: Moreover, Aribeus seeing the King of Assyria in possession of the Throne of his father, did declare and publish throughout all the Province of which he was Governor, that the Princess consented to go with the King of Assyria: He levied Troops; called back Artaxes his brother, who was sent to help the King of Pontus, notwithstanding the King; last Order, and perhaps conduced to the destruction of that Prince thereby. Having then got a considerable Body together, he sent it unto Babylon: Moreover, the King of Assyria dispatched an Ambassador unto Croessus, as I have told you, to solicit him, that he would join with his Army: Representing unto him, that the Persians and Medean● were two such Nations, as if they were joined together, they might well aspire unto the Universal Dominion of all Asia: Moreover, he urged, that there was ever an Alliance between the Kings of Lydia and the Kings of Assyria; so that in demanding Assistance upon this occasion, which concerned the common good, though in appearance it seemed only for the taking away of the Princess Mandana, he ought not to be denied: Moreover yet, the consideration of Consanguinity ought to be no impediment in the business; since if he made war against Ciaxares, he did it in behalf of Mandana, and that he would never have taken her away, but with intentions to put the Crown of Assyria upon her head. Indeed all the world knows that Croessus was persuaded by him: So that his Enemy had on his side, the Saces, the Hyrcanians, the Arabians, the higher, and lower Phrygians, the Indians, part of the Cappadocians, the Lydians, the Paphlagonians, the Serians, and the Assyrians: we understood how he endeavoured to engage the Carians in his Quarrel, but they refused: Mean while the King of Persia, being strongly solicited by the Queen his wife, sister unto Ciaxares, made choice of two hundred Homotimes (these are the noblest Persons of all Persia) unto every one of these two hundred men, he gave leave to choose four others of the same Quality; so that that by this means they made up a thousand men; afterwards he appointed every one of this thousand to leavy amongst the people, ten men with Bucklers, ten Archers, and ten Slingers, so that this completed the number of thirty thousand men besides the Homotimes. This thirty thousand choice men were better than fifty thousand others: Hidaspes whom you see there, had the Command of this Potent Aid, and Adusias was his Lieutenant General. Ciaxares you may well imagine, received them with much joy, and Artamenes was so sensible of it, that I know not how to express his ecstasy: Mean time, he ever was sending out for Intelligence, and was credibly informed, that Croessus brought in ten thousand horse, and forty thousand Foot, Bucklers, and Archers: That the King of Phrygia had six thousand Horse, and twenty thousand Pikes, and Bucklers: That Aribeus sent out of Cappadocia four thousand Horse, and ten thousand Foot: That Maragdus, King of Arabia, pretended to have five thousand Horse, ten thousand Foot, and a hundred Armed Chariots: The Hyrcanians were to have also a hundred Chariots, and four thousand Slingers: The Cadusians eight thousand Foot: The Indians as many: Also the Paphlagonians: Besides all these, the King of Assyria had twenty thousand Horse, and forty thousand Foot. All these completed up the number to be forty five thousand Horse, and near a hundred and fifty thousand Infantry, besides the Chariots. On ourside, we had ten thousand Horse, and fifty thousand Foot, all natural Subjects of Ciaxares, besides the Auxiliaries from the Provinces of the Arisantines, of the Struchaltes', and others, all which mounted unto ten thousand Horse, and fifteen thousand Foot. So that when all were joined together, with the thirty thousand Persians, the thousand Homotimes, and five thousand Horse, and ten thousand Foot for that part of Cappadocia which was not Revolted, we found that our Army was in a Gallant condition; though it was not so numerous as the King of Assyria's, since it consisted only of five and twenty thousand Horse, and one hundred thousand Foot, without any Armed Chariots: and though it was very advantageous to have thirty thousand Persian Infantry, and ten thousand Medean Cavalry, yet the number was much inferior: But my Master seemed not to be at all astonished at the inequality, nor at the great number of Kings against whom he was to fight: But on the contrary, assuming fresh courage, in so important an occasion, which might render him so Glorious, although the captivity of the Princess did infinitely trouble him, yet notwithstanding, hope to relieve her, or else die for her, caused him to become master of his melancholy. And though he was not yet known amongst the Medes, yet his Reputation, his Gallant deportment, his sweetness, his Courtesy, and Liberality, had procured him already a great credit amongst them, so that he was absolutely adored. It was at this time, when he took a love unto Araspes, and when Aglatidas took a love to him: but I had forgot to tell you, that Harpagus, who had all this while stayed in Persia, since the departure of Cyrus from thence, being desirous to return into his Country, made use of this occasion, after the death of Astyages, who had banished him, and came into Medea with Hidaspes, who by the Comendum of the Queen of Persia, made his peace with Ciaxares, although he knew Cyrus no more than the Persians did. In conclusion, to abbreviate my relation, which otherwise would be too unpleasant unto so many Illustrious persons, who were eye witnesses of what I am to tell; The Army of Ciaxares began to march, Artamenes being his Lieutenant General, and commanding the Vanguard. When we were ready to enter the enemy's Country, Artamenes saw upon his right hand a great Eagle, which flying with impetuous haste, seemed to make towards Babylon, as if she would show him the way he was to follow. The flight of this Bird was looked upon as a fortunate Omen; and Ciaxares making a halt, offered sacrifices, not only unto the Gods of the Medes and Persians, but also unto the Assyrian Deities, desiring them to be propitious unto him. I will not stand to tell you how this great Army marched, nor how prudently Artamenes ordered this vast Body; I will only relate how impatient my Master was to be taking prisoners, that he might inquire some news of Mandana. And seeing that some of the enemy's Scouts appeared, he offered to go unto them, but they took their heels, and would not fight; so that he bethought himself of a stratagem, which was this; he caused in the night time, a great number of fires to be made, behind the place where our Army encamped, and none in the place where we were: So that these Scouts coming in the night to spy, or take some of our men, they were extremely amazed when they found us near them, whom by the fires they thought further off. Some prisoners then being taken, we knew by them that the King of Assyria would within a few days leave the Princess at Babylon, under the guard of Marsares, and that he would ere long be in the Head of his Army, accompanied with the Kings of Hyrcania, Lydia, Phrygia, and Arabia: But as impatient as Artamenes was to be doing with the King of Assyria, whom we will now no longer call Philidaspes, he could not be at him so soon as he thought: For he found, that they who had divers times fled before him, went back over the River Gindes, which descending from the Mantian Mountains, passes thorough the Country of the Dardinians, and dischargeth itself into the River Tigris, and so empties itself into the Red-Sea. Then Sir, this River is so violent a Current, and the Assyrian Troops having broken the Bridge, that it stopped him: Artamenes coming to the River side, beyond which he saw men in Arms, was even desperate to see it was impossible to get over: he could not be persuaded of the danger, until he had found it by such experience, as might have proved fatal unto him: For being exasperated by the fury of his soul, and the violence of his love, he spurred his horse into the midst of the River, where the rapid fury of the water had like to have engulfed him: but being come back, by good fortune unto the side again, there was one of those white horses, such as amongst us are used to be sacrificed unto the Sun, who of himself leaping furiously into the River to pass over, was presently whirled into the bottom of the River and never seen again: So that Artamenes not knowing what course to take for a passage, bethought himself of a strange extraordinary way, which was to divide the River by channels. In conclusion, he propounded this devise, and put it in execution: He took such monstrous pains for eight days together, that all Ages may hereafter speak of it for a wonder: For amuzing the enemy always by his presence, on the side of the River, he caused a great Rampire of earth to be east up, to blind the Assyrians from sight of the pioneers, that they might not see what they did, and having digged a hundred and sixty Channels, which took their beginnings from the River, he made so many little Rivulets out of that great one, by dilating it into so many several Channels, and passed over without any trouble with his whole Army. This prodigy did so amaze the Assyrian Troops on the other side the water, that they would abide no combat, but hasted in disorder unto the Body of their Army; thinking that none but Gods could turn the course of that River; and concluding afterwards that nothing was impossible unto Artamenes. Indeed I am fully persuaded, that there are few things which can resist the Courage of such a man as he, whom Love had inspired with a most Heroic heat. As soon as Artamenes was got on the other side the River, he was infinitely joyed; Imagining that since there was no more to do but to fight, and then enter into Babylon, nothing could debar his entrance. We marched then strait unto the Enemy, who with all diligence was marching towards us: We were yet two days march from them, when we saw an old man of a handsome and comely deportment coming towards us, and followed by three hundred horse, desired to speak with Artamenes, and having in few words told the just cause of his complaints against the King of Assyria, said he was come to ask Protection from Ciaxares, and offer unto him all the strength he had. Indeed Gobrias who was at this present in Sinope, offered unto Artamenes to put his estate into his power, as indeed a few days after, he did: And the Princess Arpasea his daughter, who is one of the fairest Ladies in the World, did receive Artamenes most magnificently into a place of strength, which belonged unto him, and which she did by his command, and whom Artamenes left in possession of it. But Sir, I must not dwell upon this, though there be many brave things dependant upon it: It was at this time, the wise Gobrias engaged Gadates unto Ciaxares his party; yet not to stay upon any thing which does not directly relate unto Artamenes, I will only tell you, how the King of Assyria hath given just cause unto the valiant King of Hyrcania, and to the Prince of the Caducians', to quit his party; these two Princes came and ranked themselves on Ciaxares his side, or rather on Artamenes, since certainly the reputation of my Master was the most convincing reason which obliged these two great Princes to trust his word: I will not stay to tell you how the King of Cyprus sent also some Troops unto him, under the command of Thimocrates and Philocles: But let me tell you, that the two Armies being now in view of each other, and the day of battle being come; Artamenes was busy in ordering his Troops into such a posture as they might vanquish: He commended them, and commanded them with such an imperious and obliging air, as there was not a Soldier in all the Army, which was not eager to obey him. When these two mighty Armies were come out of their Trenches; and that the armed Chariots, the Archers, the Slingers, the Launciers and Pikes, and those which used swords on both sides were ranged into battalia, Artamenes in lieu of a long Oration, said nothing but this unto them. 
Which is he amongst you, my fellow Soldiers, who will be before me? who will kill the first enemy? which of you is it, whose valour will exceed Artamenes? Come on, my companions (said he to them) I do protest that I should not be less joyed to see you surmount me in valour, then if I had overcome the Assyrians.   
These few words pronounced by such a man as Artamenes, had so excellent an operation in the hearts of the fouldiers, and wrought such great effects, that their voice made the Air ring such a peal, as resembled a song of victory and triumph: Ciaxares by the advice of Artamenes, would have the word of Battle that day to be Jupiter our Protector; so that the combat beginning, the noise of both sides was hideous, what by the confusion of cries, the clashing of Arms and Arrows, and the neighing of horses, than which nothing is more astonishing. But Sirs, all you (except Thrasibulas) do know it, therefore without particularising this days great business, I will only tell you that Artamenes, seeking out the King of Assyria with much diligence, at last found him, being informed by one who was taken prisoner, in what quarter he would fight, and meeting with him in the throng; Let us see (said he to him) let us see, whether the King of Assyria be more valiant than Philidaspes, and whether I can now take away his life as easily, as I did preserve it in the Forest where I met him? That Prince hearing these words, turned fiercely towards him, and knowing my Master by his voice, Artamenes (said he to him) the King of Assyria perhaps is not more valiant than Philidaspes, but he is more civil, since though he be now a King, he will not refuse measuring his sword with you, who pass but for a common Cavalier, and no more: Advance then (said my Master to him, when he saw him studying what to do) and be assured that the Ravisher of Mandana is more dishonoured in taking her away, than he is in fight with Artamenes: I ought not to fight with you (answered that Prince) since I owe my life unto you: but what shall I do? there is a secret thought in me, which moves me to hate you, and is more prevalent than my generosity: after those words they came together and fought: The sword of Artamenes was died with the blood of that Prince; and if the throng and confusion of the general combat had not separated them, I believe the death of the King of Assyria had put an end to the war. But at the last a report being divulged among all the Troops, that he was either dead or a prisoner, it made so great a disorder, as the like was never seen: Some fought, others fled; The King's Allies thinking the King of Assyria to be dead, retired: Craessus caused all his men to be drawn off and be gone, and taking the mountainous way, saved the rest of his Troops from the general Rout. The King of Phrygia, who had cause of discontent given unto him, because one part of his men were ranked in the same body with the King of Lydias contrary to what was promised; and he being ever in love with the glory of Artamenes, did retire, and entrenched himself in an advantageous place, and waited the success of our victory. The Prince of Paphlagonia, was taken prisoner, and almost all the considerable persons in the Assyrian Army, either perished or changed sides. The truth is Sir, (said Feraulas, always addressing his discourse unto Thrasibulas) it may very well be said, that the gods did fight for Artamenes: for it is most certain, that there never was seen so many great Princes altogether which did so weakly dispute the victory; not but that there was great difficulty in obtaining it, because though they did not fight it well, yet their inequality of number, made it no easy matter. Certainly, and without flattering the Persians, the Homotimes did miracles that day; also the Medean Cavalry a well as the Hyrcanian wrought wonderful effects. Yet in this great disorder, the King o● Assyria, who in all other adventures would rather perhaps have been killed, then given● ground, did now retire; when he saw that there was no hopes of victory, and that Maragdus King of Arabia was killed close by him: Fearing without doubt, that if the noise of the defeat should come unto Babylon before his return, there might rise some such disorder as might let the Princess escape: This sudden retreat which he made, did certainly confirm the report of his death. The Cappadocian Troops, fearing to be under the power of Ciaxares, as a master which was justly incensed, joined unto that party of the Assyrians which were the King of Assyria's Convoy: And I do very well remember, that my Master seeing these Cappadocians fly, pursued, and cried out unto them, Why do you fly with them that are vanquished? Is it not better to stay and triumph with Conquerors? But his words were in vain; for shame and fear stifled their repentance. To relate unto you the number of the dead; the abundance of prisoners; the vast multitude of Arms and Horses; the great number of Chariots and Tents, and the infinite rich Plunder would not be much to the purpose: But let me tell you, that Artamenes moved Ciaxares to give all the Plunder of the field to the Soldiers; and for his own part he reserved no more than the liberty to divide and bestow it, more or less according to the deserts of the Captains: None of the Homotimes or Persians would load themselves with any of it; but he would have the chief of them which were accustomed to fight on foot, to take the best of the enemy's Horses; so that he made the first Persian Cavalry which ever was seen in Asia, But although this defeat of so many Kings, and the friendship which he had contracted with so many Princes, who in respect of him had taken the King of Medea's part, might well have satisfied him, yet the King of Assyria being neither dead nor a prisoner, and the Princess being still in Babylon, all seemed unto him as if he had done nothing; So that he was not long at rest, but two days after the Battle, marched towards Babylon. In going thither, we understood that the King of Lydia was absolutely retired; and that the King of Phrygia, though discontented with the Assyrian, yet waited as I told you, to see the success of things. But my Master desiring to remove such a puissant reserve from his enemy, he set out a considerable body of Horse under the command of Hidaspes, to go and fight him; and indeed the design did thrive so happily under Hidaspes, that after several skirmishes, they enforced the King of Phrygia's Trenches, and took him prisoner: But since Artamenes had been obliged unto him, during the Bithynian wars, he moved Ciaxares to use him very well: he left unto him the Command of those his Troops which remained after his defeat, upon condition they should not be employed against him, at the siege of Babylon: for, said he, the King of Phrygia will never fight against that Prince whom he came to aid: Artamenes sent him with as many Medean Troops only to secure a pass, which was equally advantageous unto the King of Phrygia, if he would return, and to Ciaxares from being set upon from that side; He also gave liberty unto the Prince of Paphlagonia, who afterwards did not forsake him. At the last Sir, we came within sight of stately Babylon; and although my Master found it very strong when he was there, yet he found it much stronger this second time, as well because he now observed it better, as because the King of Assyria had now a greater interest in it. As soon as he espied the magnificent Palace which elevates itself in the midst of Babylon: There it is Feraulas (said he to me) whither we must go and deliver Mandana: He did presently begirt the Town round about with his Troops, to stop the passages of any out, and to discover in what place and part it best was assaultable: But to say truly, we found the walls so high, so thick and so strong, that our Battering Rams could work no execution; also the huge deep ditches full of water hindered our approaches to make any use of our Engines: Moreover, it seemed absolutely impossible to assault it from the River, by reason of that prodigious work which Queen Nitocris had made, whereby the River Euphrates was brought almost round the Town; as well to dilate the impetuosity of the River, as to make the access unto the Town more difficult; for the River by that means winding and crinkling as it did, it was impossible that they in the Town should be surprised by Boats, these turnings being so long, that it would be a long days work to come by them into Babylon, from the place where they must begin. I will not insist upon exact relation of this Siege, or the prodigious pains which was taken in circling about so vast a Town; nor how many Towers Artamenes built up, from distance to distance answerable; as well to secure his entrenchments, and fortify his Lines, as to discover what the enemies did within their walls; nor how these Towers were placed upon wooden piles of Palm, of a most prodigious height; nor all the ensigns which he prepared for this siege: nor will I tell you, how the valour of Mazares did appear in divers sallies which the besieged made, nor how my Master repulsed them: But I must tell you in few words, that all their attempts and all they could do against so great a Town were all ineffectual, and vain, Artamenes despairing of gaining it, seeing that winter drew on, and that sooner than ordinary, the fields were covered with Snow, he knew not what to resolve upon: For although there were an infinite number of men within the town, yet were they victualled for a long time, so that he had no hopes to take it either by force or famine, unless he should tarry so long a time, as the thought of it did affright him: at last he bethought himself of a way which yielded him some hopes of success: he did not think the River Euphrates could resist him; more than the river Gindes, so that with the consent and approbation of the King, he caused two great trenches to be made, which joined to the River, and took the water from the River above the town and let it into the Channel again beneath: but before he had finished these trenches, or given passage for the water into them, he placed twenty thousand men near the passage where the River runs into the Town, himself being in the head of them, & sent as many unto that place where the River issues out of the Town: things being thus ordered, he gave the signal to open the trenches a little before night: so that in less than two hours, this River being made foordable; he marched himself the first up to the knees in water (in spite of the coldness of the weather, & horse being unfit for take towns) & did so encourage the rest by his example, that all which had order for it, followed, & thus they did most Courageously, & with fierce impetuosity enter into proud Babylon. The assault 〈◊〉 made at both ends of the town in an instant, Hidaspes not being less diligent than Artamenes My Master, to make sure work, went presently unto the palace, where as we were informed by prisoners which we took) the Princess used to lodge, and took with him the Prince Gadates, and one of the officers of Gobrias, to conduct him thither: I will not relate unto you, the amazement of the inhabitants; the hideous disorder of the night: the Combats which he was forced unto in some streets; and the facilities he met with in others, nor how a great sedition which was in the town did help forward their destruction; nor will I speak of the confused echo of the noise, the desolation of the women, and the general astonishment of the people: But I will tell you how Artamenes thought upon nothing but Mandana, and went in all haste unto the Palace: At first the guards made some resistance, but as soon as one of them Cried out, that the King was escaped, they left the gates; threw down their Arms; and left Artamenes master of the place: But Oh heavens it was in vain to look for Mandana, for he could not find either the King or the Princess, nor could meet with any which could inform what was become of them. As for Hidaspes, according to orders from Artamenes, he secured all the public places, and placed Courts of guard in several streets, and kept in arms all the night, so that at break of day, more than half the army of Ciaxares was got into the town: and Artamenes was absolute master of Babylon, excepting two Castles which rendered themselves the next day: But neither in the King's Palace; nor in the Castles▪ nor in the Temples nor in any of the houses, (for Artamenes caused all to be searched) could the King of Assyria or Mandana be found: only one of the Assyrian women which they had placed about the Princess, and who followed not: which said, that at the beginning of the night being accompanied with many of his men, came into her Chamber and took her and her two Cappadocian women away with him, and went down a pair of stairs which leads into the Garden, but whither they went afterwards, she could not tell. To represent unto you my Master's despair is a thing impossible: why does the gods, (said he) load me thus with insupportable misfortunes? why will they not permit me to deliver my Princess, and punish my Rival? Ha Feraulas, I seen is impossible. It was very happy that Ciaxares, and so many Grandees accompanied him▪ and gave out necessary orders, to calm this huge Town; for as for my Master, Mandana was the only thought that he could entertain. A whole month passed, without any intelligence either of the King of Assyria or the Princess, during which time he suffered as much torment as man could do; Alas, said he sometimes unto me, what am I better for winning Battles; taking of towns, or subverting of Kingdoms, if I can neither relieve my Princess nor punish my Rival? If it were not my own hand, that put her into the power of her Ravisher, I should be less troubled; but since it was by my own valour that the King of Assyria carried her away; and that same valour cannot make me kill him, this is a thing which is a 'bove my patience: For to save the life of her enemy, when he was set upon by eleven Cavaliers, and not to be able to take it from him, at that time when so many others as valiant as himself felt the weight of my blows; This is it Feraulas, that the Gods are resolved upon my destruction, and that I must prepare myself for it. I forgot to tell you Sir, that we found in Babylon a great number of Ladies, of very great quality, who having been used with much respect (for Artamenes before he entered the Town did give express command that none should offer any violence unto any women) came to give him thanks, and assured him that the Princess Mandana, would thank him also, for the Civility which they had received from him. At the very name of Mandana, my Master did double his civilities towards them: and he received this satisfaction however, to hear Mandana well spoken of as well in Babylon as Themiscyra; it being most certain that this Princess had caused herself to be adored amongst them. Artamenes understood by these Ladies that his Rival did treat her with abundance of respect, at least in their sight. But they told my Master, that since the beginning of the siege, none were permitted to come near the Princess; nor any Lady to come within the palace: I will not tell you Sir, the several reflections which my Master made upon all these things, for it would too much lengthen my story; only this, that sometimes, he knew not well whether he should grieve more to understand that his Rival was more rigorous unto her, since the siege of Babylon, then to use her as he did before. To speak truth, I do believe, that what these Ladies had said unto him, as thinking to tell good news, did not much please him, so much did Jealousy disturb his reason, & so difficult a thing it is to prevent that humour from possessing those that are most reasonable. But Sir, at the last there was such great care taken to be informed concerning the King of Assyria, that they had intelligence he was retreated unto Pteria, whereof Aribeus was governor: thta Mazares, conducted him thither, and that Aribeus his old friend, had received him into the town; and that the Princess was very strictly guarded in that place; yet we neither could know then, nor at this day how they could get out of Babylon: This news did at first afford much Joy unto Artamenes; who moved Ciaxares, to disencamp his Army which lay in and about this stately town; and after he had left a strong garrison in it, and given all requisite orders for keeping it, we marched with all speed towards Pteria; and although this march was very long, yet such was the prudent provision of Artamenes, as our Troops wanted nothing nor were they worse for it: But Sir, when we came within three days march of this town: that Joy which my Master had to know where his Princess and his Rival were, was much lessened: for we had Intelligence that the King of Assyria the Prince Mazares, and Aribeus, had conveyed away the Princess and themselves to Sinope: when Artamenes considered how that town was seated upon the sea, and without a naval Army it was impossible to besiege it, his sorrows were mightily multiplied; For indeed Ciaxares had no ships, neither could he get them so soon as to be serviceable, and yet was all in feign to beleaguer Sinope without them, since if they stormed the town from the land side, than the King of Assyria had the Sea open to save himself, and carry away the Princess; this was the thing which most of all Artamenes feared: This disastrous circumstance which was a reason, why he durst not besiege Sinope with an Army of a hundred thousand men, caused such a sadness in him as cannot be expressed. Desperate then as he was, he propounded unto Ciaxares, to send me into Sinope disguised, to the end I might suborn some or other, and try whether the town could be taken by conspiracy. When Ciaxares could not think of a better way, he consented unto this, and I obtained that which I myself desired, for indeed Sir, it was I who first made the motion unto my Master. I went then after I had moulded myself into the habit of a Country Peasant; and since we had heretofore stayed a long time in Sinope, I had got myself many friends: Amongst the rest Artucas was one, who is a kinsman unto Martesia, and now here with us; he always loved me, though he was something obliged unto the service of Aribeus: when I had got into the town, and had concealed myself with one who was very faithful unto me; I perceived that it was a thing impossible to speak with the Princess as I designed: And I understood that they always kept Galleys with oars, and ships ready for sail, in case of any need, especially since the King of Assyria; understood, that our Army was so near him. I smelled also, that though Artucas was a Captain of one of the gates in the Town, yet he did not approve of the revolt in Aribeus; but thought it very strange that the Princess should be a prisoner in a Town which was her own: I understood also that the Prince Mazares had all possible care of her, and did as much as he could qualify the violent humours in the King of Assyria. In Conclusion, after I had well consulted with myself what I had to do; I went one night unto Artucas, who was not a little amused to see me: After the first compliments were passed, I began to speak of things in particular: I made him understand that he was engaged on the worse side, not only because it was unjust, but also because it would ruin him: In few words, I told him so many things, and so handsomely prepared him, that he staggered, and at last I made him resolve to deceive Aribeus, and become faithful unto his King: We agreed then that he should deliver up the Gate, on that side the Town towards the Temple of Mars, precisely upon that day and hour, that I should appoint him: So then when I got out of Sinope, and was returned to the Camp, I brought such joy unto my Master, as is inconceiveable: you know Sir, (pursued Feraulas speaking unto the King of Hyrcania) That this resolution was fixed upon, That Artamenes should come with four thousand men only, to surprise Sinope; that Ciaxares should follow the next day with the whole Army. But my Master being advanced to execute this great business; he saw as he came out of a valley, that the Town which he came to surprise was all in a flame, and believed that the Princess would perish in it: you also know that in lieu of destroying Sinope we saved that little which remains; how we quenched the fire; how Aribeus fought; how he was overwhelmed, and how he being come unto the foot of the Tower in the Castle, the generous Phrasibulus, whom you see there, opened the gate, and told my Master, that there was in that place an illustrious person who had need of help: Neither are you ignorant, how Artamenes running hastily up to the top of the Tower, thinking to find the Princess there, he only found his Corrival: And doubtless you also know, how my Master did see a Galley, in which the King of Assyria told him, that the Prince Mazares had taken away Mandana.  
In conclusion, Feraulas desiring chiefly to acquaint these Princes that his Master held no base intelligence with the King of Assyria; after he had told them all the turbulent agitations in the minds of these two Rivals, whilst they looked from the top of the sour upon the Galley during the Tempest; then he most exactly related all the discourse between the King of Assyria and Artamenes; making them to understand the promise which Artamenes had made, how that it was not prejudicial to the King's service; and that the interest of his love was the only thing which made him conceal the King of Assyria's Letter. Afterwards he slightly rehearsed the flight of this King; the death of Aribeus; the retreat of this Prince unto Pteria; how he had written unto Artamenes, and the reason why Artamenes did hide his Letter from Ciaxares; by what accident his answer came unto the King's hands: how Artamenes believed, and almost still believes that the Princess perished: how he found Mazares half drowned, and indeed all that happened until the arrival of Ciaxares, and imprisonment of Artamenes. In pursuance whereof, he conjured them all to consider what was best to be done for the preservation of such an illustrious man: For, (said he to them) Sirs, all this that Chrisantes and myself have related unto you, is only to give you some light touch of his virtue, it being most certain that it is infinitely above all that can be said or thought.  
Feraulas having ended his relation, left all those illustrious auditors in so much admiration of the miraculous life of Artamenes, and in so much joy that they were not mistaken in that opinion which they ever had of his innocency, that they could not choose but give some testimonies of it. I ever believed (said the King of Hyrcania) that it was impossible Artamenes should be in any fault: And I never doubted (added Persodes) but that he was ever absolutely innocent. The worst is (replied Hidaspes) that one cannot justify him before Ciaxares of that crime whereof he is accused, but by accusing him of another which will not less incense him: And I doubt (said Chrisantes interrupting him) that Ciaxares would be as well pleased with his holding secret correspondency with the King of Assyria, as with Mandana. If the Princess should be dead (answered Adusias) there would be no difficulty to justify Artamenes in discovering his love; but if by happy fortune she be alive (replied Feraulas) my Master will never forgive Chrisantes and me, for discovering his passion unto Ciaxares. For my part (added Thrasibulus) I conceive it requisite to use much prudence in the matter, and not to discover the love of Artamenes, until such time as it be thought fit to discover his quality. But the knowledge of his quality (replied Chrisantes) is a thing altogether as dangerous to acquaint the King with: I am of this opinion (said the King of Hyrcania) not to do any thing slightly, but to bring things unto such a pass, as to hazard nothing; and to that end, before any thing be discovered unto Ciaxares, it is expedient to gain the hearts of the Captains of Soldiers in such a manner, that there may be neither any fear nor danger in speaking unto him for Artamenes. All the Princes concurring with the King of Hyrcania, and approving of what he said, did assure Hidaspes, Adusius, Chrisantes, and Feraulas, that they themselves would rather perish, then suffer their Master to be in danger of it; and that they would neglect no manner of expedient which may conduce unto his safety. Thrasibulus was in despair of any power to serve him any way then in his person and courage, which he would pawn for him. As they were thus debating, Gobrias, Gadates, Thimocrates, and Philocles came in: They were not present at the relations of Chrisantes and Feraulas, because as soon as Ciaxares came to Sinope, they returned to the Camp, and lodged not in the Town, But since they were no less affectionated unto their Master then the rest of the Princes, Feraulas said unto the King of Hyrcania, that he must needs engage them in behalf of Artamenes. At the name of Artamenes, Gobrias asked what he should do to serve him? Gadates all impatience, that if it were only to die for him, he was and ever would be ready. Thimocrates and Philocles appeared to be as ready as any to serve him: So that the King of Hyrcania beginning to speak, let them all understand, that there was nothing else to be done, but for every one to be ready to save Artamenes, if there were any attempt to destroy him. Upon these words, all the Princes did solemnly swear to unite themselves, and take up Arms for his safety whensoever there should be any need. They were all upon these terms, when Artucas came unto Hidaspes, and told him that he came to assure him, Artamenes had sent a note unto the King which made him very glad, but none could tell him what it was; and since he knew him to be a lover of Artamenes, he would advise him to go into the Castle: Hidaspes after he had given thanks unto Artucas for his counsel, acquainted all the illustrious assembly with it: who out of impatience to know what it was, went presently unto the King, but with so much esteem, and so much affection unto Artamenes, and did so interest themselves in his fortune, that any would have said, that they were all of them his kindred or subjects.   
The End of the First Book.   

ARTAMENES, OR Cyrus the Great. THE SECOND PART BOOK II.  
IT was not without good cause, that Artucas told Hidaspes, how the King of Medes was very glad and joyful, at a Letter which he received from Artamenes: And the joy of Artamenes did exceed the Kings, if it be permitted me to put a difference between things that are both of them extremes; but to discover the true cause of the satisfaction to these two Persons, whose present conditions seemed to be so unlike: You must know, that the same day about noon, a man which heretofore had served Andramias, and who since served Artamenes in the Scythian Voyage, and was sent by him to Artaxes, who commanded those Troops which were lent the King of Pontus; upon his return unto the Castle of Sinope, he desired to speak with his ancient Master. Aglatidas was then with Andramias, who commanded the man to enter, and whom at first he knew not; yet he no sooner heard him speak, but he knew him by his voice. Andramias gave him his hand, and asked him if he could do any thing for him? Yes Sir, (answered he) for I doubt not but if you will do me the favour to let me speak with Renowned Artamenes, I doubt not, I say, but I shall help him unto such news to tell the King, as may obtain him his liberty. Andramias not imagining what this man could tell of any such importance, urged the man to tell his business unto him, and to tell him also, why he was so affectionate unto Artamenes? for Andramias had some kind of fear to be surprised, and thought this to be some devise of the Kings to try his fidelity. Then Ortalques (for that was the man's name) told him that he served Artamenes in the Massagettan voyage, and presented unto him a piece of a torn Letter, upon which he saw these words written, not knowing to whom they were directed, nor from whom they came. 
Tell it, that I am living: That they carry me into one of the two Armenia's, but I know not unto whom I shall go; and that the King of—   
After that Andramias had read this which was writ upon a loose piece of paper, he looked upon Ortalques, and asked who it was which gave it him? But the man without more ado; Indeed Sir (said he) the Princess Mandana is living: How (cried out Andramias and Aglatidas both together) is the Princess Mandana living? Yes Sirs, answered Ortalques, and this which you see writ there, is as I think her own hand. Andramias and Aglatidas having not fully satisfied their curiosity, urged him to tell them all he knew concerning the Princess; and the man told them, that when he was engaged in the Pontean and Bithynian war, he being sent thither, it was his hap to be much wounded, and stayed there a long time sick, not being able to follow Artaxes, whom Aribeus had called away: that afterwards being desirous to return home, he came unto a place which is near the Euxine Bridge, in that place where the river Halis empties itself: that being there, and going out one morning to walk, he saw a ship on the Sea some three or four furlongs off the land, close by which, there was one of these great wooden Boats of Pinetree, which can very well endure the waves when the winds are high, and which are used to carry Merchandise, into which he saw many persons descend, and distinguished some women. After this, the ship sailed into the open Sea, and the Boat came strait unto the mouth of the River; but since the stream in that place was very impetuous, it was a long time before the Rowers could get out of the Sea into the River: During which time, I came unto the River's side, and I took notice that there was a woman in the Boat, which did very attentively look upon me; that afterwards, hiding herself behind another woman, she did something, and I suppose it was to write that which you see upon that piece of paper: after which, another of the women coming unto the Prow of the Boat which touched the Land, and came within three paces of me, having lapped up this piece of paper in a hood, which she took from her head, she threw it unto me, seeming as if the wind had wafted it from her, for it was something high, and blew it where I was: I thought that I knew the Party, and within an hour after, I recalled myself, and knew certainly that it was one of the Princess women, called Martesia: The men who were in the Boat, were so busy in Rowing, and striving to get up the River, that I think they did not mind the action of this woman: for my part, I hastily took up what was thrown unto me, and going a little from the side, I saw that which I now give you, and I was so surprised at it that I knew not what to think: Mean while, the Boat being passed the mouth of the River, it made away much more readily, and was so soon, so far off me, that I knew not what to resolve upon. I had a better mind to follow this Boat, then to come unto Sinope, whither I understood the King's Army was marched: for indeed since I knew nothing of what passed here, I could not well tell what they desired me to do, yet after I had well examined the matter, I did conclude, that my best way was to come hither; so that I embarked in the first ship I did meet with, and so hither I came. As I went down to the Port, the burning of this Town, making me very inquisitive, I there heard of all the passages of Sinope, and I made no more doubt but that it was the Princess Mandana, who sent me hither, for I verily think I saw her in the Boat: To tell you who carried her away is more than I can do: all I know is, that certainly she is living. Andramias and Aglatidas after they heard this man's relation, doubted no more than he, but that the Princess was living: But to make it more clear, Aglatidas told his Cousin, that since Artamenes had been so long in the Cappadocian Court, it was impossible but he should know Mandana's hand, therefore the best way would be to show him what Ortalques had brought, and not to go unto the King, and acquaint him with any thing which might move in him a false Joy. Andramias approved of the Proposition, and with Ortalques entered into the chamber of Artamenes, who then was profoundly plunged into cruel thoughts of the Princess death, or at the least, at the apprehension of it. Aglatidas coming to him, and after he had saluted him, Sir, said he to him, here is a man, whose name is Ortalques, who desires to see you, and has brought a piece of paper unto Andramias, which hand perhaps you know. If I know the hand, as well as I know the name of Ortalques (replied Artamenes in much sadness) I shall easily tell you who writ it; for the man so called, served me in my voyage to the Massagettes, and as I went out of Cappadocia to Ecbatan, I sent him unto Artaxes who then aided the King of Pontus, and since that until now I heard nothing of him. In saying so, Artamenes considered the Character of the paper, yet he no sooner looked upon it but he blushed; and looking upon Aglatidas and Andramias with such extreme turbulence, more than usual; Doubtless, cried he out, the Princess Mandana did write this paper which you show unto me; and I have seen her Letters unto the King, too often to be mistaken: Also I myself had the honour when I came first into Cappadocia, to present one unto him from her, wherein she was pleased to speak too advantageously of me, to lose the memory of it: But I beseech you, said he unto Andramias, if you can do it without danger to yourself; Let me see Ortalques, for I do confess the virtue of the Princess has much interested me in any thing which concerns her; and I should be very glad to understand what he knows of her: Andramias who much desired to oblige Artamenes, caused the man to enter, unseen by any of the Guards; But during that time, Aglatidas easily perceived, that the joy and agitation of Artamenes his mind, had a more powerful cause then bare compassion: he beheld the paper, as if he were afraid to be mistaken: he lifted his eyes up to heaven, as if he rendered thanks for so great a happiness; he walked up and down the room, and never regarded Aglatidas, nor spoke to him afterwards, coming suddenly to himself, and fearing he had been too much transported; if you did but know (said he to him) the merit of the Princess Mandana, you would less wonder at my excess of joy; for although she ought to be your Queen, I can assure you I shall interest myself as much in her service, as any subjects she shall one day have in all Medea. It were to be wished (answered Aglatidas) the King were acquainted with your zeal unto any thing which concerns her, and that he would have the same thoughts of you which I have: Mean while, Andramias brought in Ortalques, whom Artamenes embraced with exceeding tenderness, seeming as if the more news he told him concerning the Princess Mandana, the more welcome should he be: yet notwithstanding he asked him so many things together, that Ortalques could not answer him; but at the last he told him as much as he knew, and as much as did not yet fully satisfy Artamenes: But yet notwithstanding, the certainty of the Princess her life, that did afford him an unexpressible joy, insomuch as no other consideration, could diminish his delight: It is your duties (said he unto Aglatidas and Andramias) to rejoice at the resurrection of your Princess; But (said Aglatidas unto him interrupting him) Ortalques out of zeal which he bears unto you, has some thoughts which seem to me very reasonable, for indeed he desired to see you, with intention that it might be from your hand the King should be acquainted with the life of the Princess his daughter; imagining with some probability, that the joy which you should give him, would in some sort dispose his mind to hearken more favourably unto what I should speak unto him in your behalf. Alas, (added Andramias) it may be thought, that since perhaps he will be necessitated unto a fresh war for the delivery of the Princess, he will sooner set you at liberty. That reason would be but weak, (replied Artamenes modestly) since he has so many other gallant men about him; were it not for the zeal which I have unto his service, and which may be accounted something extraordinary: But if I should send this note unto the King, would it not reflect too much upon you Andramias? and would it not accuse you for giving me too much liberty? No, replied Aglatidas, not at all; for since Ortalques did once serve Andramias, and afterwards served you, it is nothing strange that he should be received into a place where he had two masters; and that you knowing the hand, desired to acquaint the King with this welcome news, which Andramias may carry from you: Artamenes, who did indeed desire to be persuaded, did consent unto the motion which Aglatidas made; and calling for ink and paper, he writ as followeth.  
ARTAMENES UNTO The KING his Sovereign LORD.  
AS long as I thought myself useless unto your Majesty, I endured the weight of my Chains without impatience: But the happy news of the Princess being alive, persuades me that perhaps I may be serviceable in her Delivery; and I now dare most humbly beseech you, not to deprive me of that honour, to render you that service: Solemnly protesting unto your Majesty, to come into your Prison and put on my Fetters, the very next day that the Princess is at Liberty.  
ARTAMENES.  
Andramias taking the Letter which Artamenes writ, also the Note from the Princess Mandana, went with Ortalques unto the King, where Aglatidas would also be present, in hopes to perform some good office unto such an illustrious prisoner; and because the actions of my Master had begot some suspicions in him of his love, he thought that he would be very glad of liberty; and indeed, though he loved Aglatidas very well, yet he did strive to conceal his joy in his own heart. They were no sooner gone out, but being able to hold no longer, What, my Princess (said he) are you living? need I no more fear your death? must all those ghastly Images of Tombs and Coffins no longer terrify my fancy? No, no, I can now believe you breath and live, and perhaps think upon me. Ah, whosoever it be, either gods or men which has saved my Princess from the waves, and from such an almost inevitable danger, what does not Artamenes owe unto them? If it was a Divinity, it merits my vows; If it be a Mortal weight, it is worthy of all my services: But whatsoever it be, since Mandana, Divine Mandana does live, I will permit my soul to take full delight, as she did before all sorrow. But alas, (said he after he had been a while silent) I am not so happy as I thought myself: For though 'tis true Mandana lives, yet she is a Captive; and that which is most cruel, I am in fetters also, and by consequence not in a condition to Relieve her: What King would she speak unto? to whom may it be imagined is she a prisoner? what would she express by her note? what a most cruel accident is this, that I cannot taste, in quiet, the greatest joy that ever amorous mind was capable of? yet am I not too blame (said he) to descant thus upon the present condition of my life, at a time when I see my Princess lives, and when I may hope to see her again? For since it is the pleasure of the gods to bring her from the deep Abyss of the Sea, they may also perhaps bring me out of prison to deliver her, and set her upon her Throne. But my fairest Princess, after all these misfortunes which I have endured, I dare not make any prayers for myself; I fear lest my own interests should be contagious and infect yours; and for the love of you I will separate them, and ask of the gods no more than what directly relates unto you. Therefore O ye Omnipotent Divinities, which govern all the Earth, cause them to deliver me, that I may deliver my Princess; that I may have power to punish all her Ravishers; to bring her back unto her father, and let her possess all those Crowns, which you have enabled me to defend, fight for, and Conquer for the King of the Medes: Oh ye most just Gods, do only as I say, and afterwards let me die at the feet of Mandana; and that she may never have any other sorrows but for the loss of Artamenes. Thus did the most amorous Prince in the world entertain himself, whilst Andramias with Ortalques was with the King; and whilst all his illustrious friends were with Hidaspes, where they received the advice from Artucas, which made them all impatient, and moved them to go presently unto the Castle, as I already told you: But to make you understand how Artucas came so soon to the knowledge of it; you must know, that when Andramias gave the Letter unto the King from Artamenes, this Prince was in a rapture of joy which cannot be expressed, so that some of those who were then in the Chamber, without diving any further into the matter, or staying for any more, did in all haste divulge that Artamenes was in favour with the King; and it was from them which Artucas had that which he told unto Hidaspes, as knowing him most affectionate unto Artamenes. The King of Phrygia, who was with Ciaxares when he received this Letter, being desirous to take hold of that occasion; told him that such good news as that well deserved liberty unto him who sent it; and Ciaxares in his first apprehensions of joy, did partly forget his anger against Artamenes, and was glad to receive from his hand this news as a sign of his affection unto his service. He then did exactly inform himself from Ortalques, of all he knew, and all he had seen, and bad Andramias that he should assure Artamenes, it should be long of himself if he did not suddenly come out of prison to relieve the Princess his daughter, and that he should no sooner acknowledge the correspendency which he held with the King of Assyria, nor should no sooner ask pardon for it, than he should forget what was past, and restore him unto his former condition, Oh Sir, (said the King of Phrygia then unto him) let not your Majesty stand upon such a useless piece of formality; for I do almost certainly know that Artamenes is innocent; and if there were any secret intelligence between the King of Assyria and him, it was not at all prejudicial unto your Majesty's service. As they were thus in discourse, the King of Hyrcania, the Prince of the Caducians', Gobrias, Gadates, Thrasibulus, Hidaspes, Adusius, Thimocrates, Philocles, Artucas, Feraulas and Chrisantes came in; and immediately after Aglatidas entered, with a multitude of strangers of quality, whom this strange news did draw unto the King, every one being desirous to rejoice with him in the happy news, which did indeed deserve a public thanksgiving. The name of Mandana was in every one's mouth, those who knew her told it unto those who knew her not, and discoursed of all her admirable qualities; so that as the souls of all were dejected at the news of her loss, so now they were elevated at the news of her being alive: After the first resentments of satisfaction, Ciaxares much displeased that he could not precisely know what was the adventure of the Princess, nor who carried her away, nor why they carried her unto Armenia: He knew very well that the King of that Country was his Tributary; that the Prince Tigranes his son was gallant and generous, and one that loved Artamenes: But he knew also that the old King was capricious, and humorous, and that he sent no Troops to his Army as he was obliged to do; Ciaxares therefore did not fully relish his joys, but would sometimes make his unquietness apparent. Sir, said the King of Hyrcania unto him, let not the Captivity of the Princess Mandana disquiet you, for if you would have her prison doors fly open wheresoever they be, you need do no more but set open the prison doors of Artamenes, and set him before so many Kings and Princes as now hear me: And you may be assured Sir, that if he be our guide, we will follow him unto Armenia, and make victory follow us. When we have rendered thanks unto the Gods (replied the King of the Medes) we shall then see how they will inspire us: But for my part, I do not think, that in thanking them for their equity in saving an innocent Princess, I ought to pardon a Delinquent; and such a one as will neither ask pardon, nor repent; no nor so much as acknowledge his fault, although it be most apparent: Ha Sir, (cried they all with one voice, both the Kings, the Princes, the Homotimes, and all the Cavaliers) Artamenes indeed is unfortunate, but never was culpable. There is not one of us but will enter into his prison, and remain a hostage for him, until he has made proof of his innocency by his new services, or (to say better) new miracles. Ciaxares was much moved to find such violent affection, in the minds of all these illustrious persons, and could not answer them but with a congee; yet such a one as left them in some hopes, insomuch as they redoubled their reasons and requests. Aglatidas was not less zealous than any: And Migabises, (maugre their old quarrels) was amongst them in the King's chamber, and begged liberty for Artamenes, as well as his old enemy. The King of Phrygia did extremely press Ciaxares unto it: The King of Hyrcania spoke wonderful boldly: Thimocrates and Philocles used as much power, as there was in Graecia eloquence: Thrasibulus did no less; Hidaspes, and Adusius spoke with extreme violence, as well as Persodes, Gadates, and a hundred others, who seemed all to be linked unto the interests of Artamenes. Ciaxares then seeing himself thus urgently pressed; know, (said he unto the King of Phrygia, and Hyrcania, and all the rest) I wish as well as any, that Artamenes were innocent, or at least that he would acknowledge his crime with repentance, upon condition I gave one of my Kingdoms; and to let you see that I will do all I can, I do permit you (at the return from the Temple) to go one after another unto him, to the end you may persuade him unto obedience, and not to keep that secret from me, which I both will, and I ought to know. After he had said so, Ciaxares without giving them time to answer, went out of the chamber, and went unto the Temple to thank the Gods, for the favour he received from them, and that they would be pleased to complete the blessing, in rendering unto him the Princess his daughter: All the people followed unto this ceremony; and the happy news being divulged both in Town and Camp, caused a general rejoicing every where: At their return from the Temple, he had not forgot what Ciaxares said, and therefore entreated him to give order unto Andramias, that any of his friends might go unto Artamenes, and endeavour to discover (as he said) what the King would know. The King of Medea, since he saw the state of things to be as they were, would have been very glad if Artamenes would ask pardon, that he might give it unto him; suffered most of those Princes and persons of quality, to see Artamenes in little companies; so that at that time when permission was given, and orders sent unto Andromias to that purpose; the King of Phrygia, and the King of Hyrcania went to visit him, accompanied with Chrisantes and Feraulas: leaving all the rest in great impatience to enjoy the same happiness. In going thither, they resolved to acquaint Artamenes, that they knew he was Cyrus, and that they were not ignorant of all the rest of his adventures, to the end, they might afterwards advise upon the best expedients to procure his liberty. Not but that Chrisantes & Feraulas did apprehend he would be angry with them, but yet they saw such a necessity of it, that they would run that hazard, and rather expose themselves unto disgrace, then to hide from him a truth, which was requisite he should know: As soon as these two Kings entered, Artamenes was much amazed as well at the sight of them, as of Chrisantes and Feraulas, for although Aglatidas had seen him, during his imprisonment, for Andramias did so much favoured his Cousin, yet none else of his domestics ever saw him. This famous prisoner received these Princes with all the civility and respect, which Artamenes as Artamenes did owe unto persons of that quality: but after they had saluted him, and moved him to embrace Chrisantes and Feraulas, they told him, smiling, that they came to receive orders from him, and to know what he would have them do, to deliver Artamenes out of prison, and to put him into such a condition, as he might appear to be Cyrus. At these words Artamenes looked upon Chrisantes and Feraulas; but the King of Phrygia beginning to speak, No (said he to him) do not blame these two men whom you ought to love better than any men in the world; and be not sorry that we know the secrets of your life: They were not told us but when there was a great necessity, therefore murmut not, but be assured that what we know shall never hurt you. I know very well Sirs, (answered Artamenes) that Chrisantes and Feraulas had always good intentions towards me, and that questionless they could never have made a better choice then of you, and the King of Hyrcania; for all that Sirs there are some passages in my adventures which I wish had been never known, and which I should never have told whilst I had life. Had we not seen you in eminent danger, (said Chrisantes with much reverence) we would have kept in an invincible secret: but we conceived, that since we could tell nothing which was not glorious unto you, we thought it better to acquaint these Kings which hear me with your Innocency, then suffer you to perish. Artamenes although he was very sorry that they knew what he would have concealed, yet forced himself not to seem so openly, lest he should disoblige these two Princes who were thus interested in his fortune. Then they acquainted him with the alteration which appeared in the King's mind, and with his obstinate desire to know exactly what that Intelligence was which he had with the King of Assyria. Since that you know all, replied Artamenes, you may understand that I ought not to tell him: not that I care for exposing my life by incensing the King against Cyrus: But when I think how I should displease the Princess Mandana by it, and should expose her perhaps unto the anger of the King her father, Ah Sirs, I do confess I cannot think on it but I tremble, and therefore it is a thing which I can never do, I had much rather that Ciaxares should think me perfidious, then that Mandana should suspect me of indiscretion: Indeed Sirs, shall I tell you truly? If I have any sorrows for your knowing the truth of my life, it is merely in respect of the interest of this most Illustrious Princess: not but that she is purely innocent, or that her virtue can be stained by any Calumnies, yet for all that, I wish you thought me to be as faulty as Ciaxares doth, and were ignorant of that which might justify me: These Princes hearing him speak so, could not choose but smile, and afterwards admire the power of his respectful passion, which moved him to prefer the interest of the Princess, not only before his own life, but also before his own glory. In conclusion, after a long discourse, which yet would not afford them a way to resolve upon, they designed to protract the business as long as they could, and obtain for certain days permission to visit him. That in the mean time, they advised him, to speak concerning Ciaxares as he was wont, which was, with much reverence and affection: that on their sides, they would tell the King of Medes, how they were in some hopes to come unto the knowledge of something which he desired to be informed of, yet he just have patience for a while: that in the interim, they would incine all the Captains and Soldiers, to ask his liberty; and in conclusion, they would Act further according as Ciaxares did appear more or less incensed against him. Artamenes thanked them most civilly for their good intentions towards him. And did that which two days before he could not think he should, which was to solicit them earnestly to break his fetters; for since he knew the Princess living, and that she was in captivity, his prison became intolerable unto him. Chrysantes, and Feraulas, staying after these Princes, told him the names of all those who were acquainted with his story; and he did a little blame them for making so many privy unto it: But Sir, (said they unto him) by what other ways can you hope to break your chains, to deliver your Princess, if so many Illustrious friends as you have, should be all ignorant of your innocence? Ah (said he unto them) If all you have told them will procure me my liberty, you had good reason to do it, and I have great cause to thank you: Afterwards he told of his Joy to hear the Princess was not perished, and of his disquiet in being absolutely ignorant in whose hands fortune had disposed her: for, said he, you know as well as I, that the King of Assyria is now at Pteria; and they assure you that Mazares is dead. Thus discoursing of one thing or other, yet all relating unto his love, he kept Chrisantes and Feraulas a long time with him. They were no sooner gone out, but Persodes, Hidaspes, and Adusius came in; after them followed Gobrias, Gadates, and Megabises: and after them again, Thrasibulus, Thimocrates, Philocles, and Aglatides; Indeed of all those who had permission to see him, there was not one but earnestly desired it: Artamenes transacted with those who had been told his history, as he did with the Kings of Phrygia, and Hyrcania; and with those who knew it not, according as it was agreed upon between the Princes and him. Mean while Ciaxares dispatched one unto the King of Armenia, and made choice of Megabises for that employment: appointing him to acquaint that King, how since he understood the Princess his daughter was within his dominions, he desired she might be sent back unto him, in an Equipage proportionable unto her quality: and in case he refused, then to declare war against him. That which incensed Ciaxares more against him, was, that this King, refused the payment of that tribute which he ought to do, and produced some weak bottomed reasons for his exemption: he never thought upon any new war which was likely, but he was sorry for Artamenes, and hearkened very favourably unto those who returned from the prison, who told him, that Artamenes did always speak of him with very great reverence and affection, and that according to all appearances, he was most certainly innocent: But after all, he would needs know this impenetrable secret, which they put him in some hopes to discover, yet the opinion of every one was, that since they foresaw a necessity of a war with Armenia, it would move Ciaxares to pass over his first resolutions. Mean time Artamenes remembered himself of his promise unto the King of Assyria, which was to advertise him exactly of every thing, to the end they might transact together for the liberty of the Princess: oh ye destinies, (said he to himself, in calling to memory his promises) unto what intricate adventures do you expose me? It seems I came into this world, only to do good offices unto the King of Assyria: I found out his first conspiracy to no other end, but to acquaint Mandana with his love, which himself durst not discover: I went unto the Massagettes for nothing else but to facilitate his second enterprise: And I returned back, purposely to save his life, and to help him in the carrying away of Mandana: I came now to Sinope to save him from the fury of the flames: and now at this time I do not understand of my Princess being alive; But to give him so much satisfaction as to know by what means, and to make the way easy unto him, to deliver her: For Indeed, since I have promised, I must and will keep it: But alas, how can I inform him, that she is in Armenia whilst I am a close prisoner? All his Kingdom is not yet so absolutely destroyed, but he has some dispersed troops which he can rally together: there is one part of Assyria which does acknowledge his Authority: The one half of Cappadocia is for him; and he may perhaps as soon deliver her as Ciaxares; what shall I do then? and what shall I resolve upon? But alas, what am I doing, (said he reprehending himself) do I consider and doubt upon a thing which I have promised? No, no, waver no longer upon it: and if I desire that men should perform their promises with me, let me be steadfast unto my word: And also, since the King of Assyria is so gallant, let us not give him any cause to suspect it, or to say the truth, we do but inform him of that, which he cannot choose but know ere long, it not being possible, that the life and the prison of the Princess Mandana can be long concealed. Artamenes also considered that since Ciaxares did accuse him for having intelligence with the King of Assyria, he exposed himself unto absolute destruction if ever it were discovered: but the fear of any danger was not any reason at all to hinder Artamenes for performing what he had promised, and therefore he did descant no longer upon it. This generous Prince resolving then to send unto Pteria did look upon Ortalques as upon one whom he knew to be full of fidelity, and since at that time almost any one had liberty to visit him, he lost not that opportunity; so that it was an easy matter for him to excuse his design. He sent then Ortalques unto the King of Assyria, after he rewarded him very nobly for the good news he brought unto him, and appointed him to tell that Prince from him, that he advertised him, how Mandana was living; that she was in Armenia, not knowing who carried her thither: He desired him also to keep his word with a man who is so punctual with him in so nice a business. Ortalques did acquit himself of this Commission with as much fidelity as haste, and going out of the Town under pretence of some particular business of his own, he went unto Pteria, which is not above a hundred and seventy furlongs from Sinope, where he found the King of Assyria ready to depart from thence. This Prince was ravished with the Generosity of Artamenes, and was unexpressibly joyful at the certainty of Mandana's life, for by his Spies which he had in Sinope, by the means of Artaxes, brother to Aribeus, who always had some powerful friend or other, near Ciaxares, he knew of the shipwreck of Mazares, and the fears which every one apprehended of the Princess being perished: He received Ortalques therefore very well, and after he had magnificently rewarded him, Tell Artamenes (said he to him) that the King of Assyria cannot promise to be his Friend, since Fate will have us ever enemies, but let him assure himself, that the King of Assyria will not neglect the rules of generosity, and therefore will always keep his word exactly: But whilst Ortalques was at Pteria, and came back to Sinope, to give an account of his voyage unto his Master, and acquainted him with the generous answer of the King of Assyria: All the Kings and Princes were busied in observing the resentments of Ciaxares, and contriving which way they could be serviceable unto Artamenes: And all the Officers and Soldiers in the Army, moved by their own inclinations, and incited by their chief Commanders, did nothing else but ask aloud for Artamenes, that he might be rendered unto them again, else they resolved never to stir a foot again unto any War; whilst, I say, Ciaxares was yet very irresolute what to do, though he seemed to incline towards some indulgency, Chrisantes and Feraulas were very restless in their transactions: for sometimes they went to visit their Master: sometimes they courted all the Princes which had interessed themselves in his fortune: sometimes they went into the King's presence, and very often unto Hidaspes and Adusius; so that continually bestirring themselves, and living between hopes and fears, their souls were never in any tranquillity. They had a design, to send into Persia, and advertise Cambyses of the life of the Prince his Son, and the danger wherein he was, but the distance of the place prevented them; Artamenes also supposing such a business, did expressly forbid it, telling them, that he would never have the king his father know he was living, until he might be informed of it without sorrow: Moreover, he told them that course would be absolutely in vain, and the readiest way to let Ciaxares know he was Cyrus. Upon an evening then, when Chrisantes and Feraulas were both together, walking by the Port of Synope, Artucas came unto them, and desired them to go along with him, unto a place where he would freely entertain them: They knew very well the affection which Artucas bore unto Artamenes, and remembered how he left Aribeus to become faithful unto his Prince, and were contented to go with him: His house was far off the Port, and therefore less consumed by fire, but was still habitable. As soon as they came there, Artucas carried them into a chamber, and thorough that into another, where they did find one who at first they knew not, for it was dark, and candles were not yet lighted: they saw well she was a woman of a good fashion, and seemed to be fair, but yet they could not perceive her face so plainly as to know her: This uncertainty lasted not long, for this woman no sooner saw them, but leaving the daughter of Artucas who was with her, and coming towards them, she began to speak, and call them by their names, to signify her joy she had to see them; so that the Tone of her voice no sooner sounded in the ears of Feraulas, but running hastily to her, Ah Martesia (cried he out) is it you that speaks? Can I believe that what I think is true? Yes, answered she, I am Martesia, and the very same you left me at Themiscira with the Princess Mandana: At those words Feraulas transported with excess of joy, did again salute the Lady which had so great a share in his heart, and had so great a confidence in him. Chrisantes for his part, so much esteemed the virtue of this woman, that he behaved himself towards her, with all possible civility. But as his soul was not so tender over her, as the soul of Feraulas was, so he was the first which asked Martesia whether or no the Princess were at liberty? Alas, wise Chrisantes, said she, and sighed, I would to the Gods she were, or at the least, that your Illustrious Master were not a prisoner, as I understand he is, but that he were in a condition to relieve her. What joy soever Feraulas had to see Martesia, this tale did lessen it. But since all he thought was not to be spoken of before Artucas, or his daughter, who knew nothing of Artamenes Love unto the Princess, Chrisantes and Feraulas did burn with desire to ask a hundred questions, which they then could not inquire of; and she for her part did answer unto many things as she would not have answered if they had been by themselves; however (said Chrisantes) you can assure us that the Princess is alive? for although Ortalques told us so, yet we shall be far better satisfied to hear you confirm it. Feraulas asked her how they escaped the shipwreck? Chrisantes would needs tell her how they grieved for the supposed death of the Princess, and both of them together did make the discourse so interrupted and full of confusion, that it did but augment their curiosity: Martesia desired Chrisantes and Feraulas to salute a very complete man who came with her, and was called Orsanes, telling them how he had been both her Guide and Protector. This first discourse was not long, because the night was late. But Martesia desired them to come again to morrow morning, for she should be very glad to speak with them before she saw the King, who yet knew nothing of her return, thinking it fit to inform herself of somethings before she appeared at Court, or showed herself unto him; and this was the reason she came late into Sinope, and desired to lodge in her Kinsman's house, where she might be welcome, and he having a daughter which was very fair and virtuous; therefore she conjured them not to speak a word of her return unto any. Chrisantes and Feraulas, then left her, and failed not to come the next morning as Martesia had appointed them; and would not acquaint Artamenes with her arrival until they knew more certainties of Mandana, whereby to satisfy his Curiosity, his Impatience, and his Love. Martesia was a woman of most excellent Qualities, and one whose Aunt Artucas had married, and therefore she made choice of his house in Sinope. As she had ever been about Mandana, and that Princess did always very tenderly love her, so she did love her again most passionately, and could not at all relish her liberty, unless her Princess enjoyed hers also: and though perhaps there were some in Sinope to whom she had no aversion, yet she had rather have been captive with her Mistress, then free without her: She seemed also very melancholy unto Chrisantes and Feraulas, when they came to her in the morning; and as she knew how to carry things handsomely, she let Artucas understand, that she had some business to impart unto Chrisantes, which concerned the liberty of the Princess, and which she had orders not to reveal unto any but him and Feraulas: So that without suspicion of any thing, she received them privately into her Chamber, without any other witnesses but one woman which waited upon her, who was so far off the place where she caused Chrisantes and Feraulas to sit down, that she could not understand any thing of their discourse: when then they were come unto her, and the first compliments were passed, and they seated in their places: Alas (said she to them) what strange alterations do we find since the day you parted from Themiscira to go unto the Massagettes? and how ignorant am I of all you have done since? only I know that the famous Artamenes has gained some Battles, and subverted Kingdoms. But oh heavens, when I came hither, and was told that he was in prison, how was I surprised and sorrowful? and how sad the Princess would be if she should know of this terrible alteration? Truly, said she, when I call to memory all that has happened unto us, and that after all these hurryings away; so many perfecutions; so many wars; so many shipwrecks, and so many misfortunes, that Mandana should be a prisoner in Armenia, and Artamenes a prisoner in Sinope, I do confess unto you, that my spirits are confounded. I have learned to despair of nothing, since after all this I am living, and at Sinope, and with some whom I am not sorry to see: You are very good Martesia (said Feraulas interrupting her) to say so. And you would continue that goodness (said Chrisantes) if you would relate all your adventures since our departure from Themiscira, and by what ways Philidaspes brought about his design: why he being Prince of Assyria he appeared only as Philidaspes; how he treated the Princess after he took her away: how Mazares fell in love; how that Prince deceived the other and took her away; how you did during the shipwreck; how you escaped it; and how it comes to pass the Princess is not free; for I do confess, this last event is incomprehensible, and puts all the Court into amazement. None can imagine who it should be, who has thus saved the Princess to destroy her, nor can any conceive who is that King whereof she speaks, and why she named him not in that Note which we received from her. Therefore sweet Martesia, I do conjure you by the Illustrious name of the Princess Mandana, and also by the name of Artamenes, to tell us exactly all that you know concerning the King of Assyria, concerning the Prince of Saces, and concerning the King whom we cannot guess: You require so many things, said she, in requiring this, that I know not whether I can in a whole day give you that satisfaction: I will therefore abbreviate my discourse as much as I can: We do not desire you should do so (replied Feraulas) but on the contrary, we do befeech you, not to deprive us of one of the Princess thoughts, for truly Artamenes has need of all the comforts we can afford him; and we cannot bring him a greater, then to let him know what is become of that Princess whom he adores: therefore I do conjure you, to give us this satisfaction, for we are gladly disposed to give you hearing as long as you shall please. But, said Martesia, do you not think it fit that I should know also what has chanced unto you? I will engage myself to tell you all (answered he) before we part from hence, so you will first satisfy our extremely longing desires, to understand your adventures; for as Artamenes has no interest which is not mine, so I am certain Mandana has none which is not yours. Martesia seeing herself so urged, did recollect her memory, to order the discourse she intended, into the better method; and after a little silence, she began thus.  

THE HISTORY OF MANDANA:  
TO make all our adventures more clear unto you; also the reasons why the King of Assyria did appear in the Cappadocian Court under the name of Philidaspes, although his right name is Labinet; It is requisite that I do begin my story far off, and that I relate the History of the Queen Nitocris, and of the Princess Istrina, daughter of Gadates, as well as that of Mandana: I doubt not but you wonder to hear me speak so precisely of the Assyrian affairs; and of the particular relations of two Princes, who have the greatest share in this History: But at the end of my story, I shall acquaint you by what ways I came to know, what I am now going to tell you. Doubtless you know that it was the Queen Nitocris unto whom the Kingdom of Assyria did belong; and it was upon this reason, that the Prince her son, had not the quality of a King, although the King his father was dead. This great Princess was lineally descended from the first Kings of Assyria; And there never was a Princess ever since the great King Ninus, and the famous Semiramis more illustrious than she. The King her father died when she was very young; and she wore the Crown at an age, when any other but she had strength enough to support it; yet all the Assyrians did confess that they never knew more wisdom and prudence in any, than she did manifest in all her actions: Yet notwithstanding, although her own reason was very ripe, she had a Council which was composed of the most excellent men of the whole Monarchy who steered affairs. But since by the fundamental Law of the State she could not marry any stranger Prince, so all the Assyrian Princes were then at Babylon; and I have heard reported, that this Court was at that time the most magnificent of all the world. As this Princess was very fair, and was owner of the prime Crown in all Asia, so she moved passions in the souls of all the Princes which ever saw her; and I have been assured, that of all this great number of her servants, there was not one of them which were not more amorous than ambitious: I will not stay to tell you with what wisdom and virtue she behaved herself amongst them; only this I must relate, that amongst the rest, there were two which seemed to be in greatest hopes to effect their design, more likely than any of the rest, The first was a Prince called Labinet, as he who is now King of Assyria is called: The other named Gadates, who at that very time was a very miracle in beauty, in handsomeness, in valour, in spirit, in gallantry, and in virtue: his quality also was very high, and allied unto the Royal family. But as for Labinet, although he was nothing so accomplished, and his good qualities were more dim, yet he had this advantage, that he styled himself to be descended from one of the children of Sardanapalus, if it may be called an advantage to descend from so bad a Prince) and by consequence he pretended to have some right unto the Crown, although he did not at that time openly declare his pretensions. As the Queen was then very young, so she did not consider this reason of state, and her soul preferring him which was more accomplished before him that was less; therefore her inclination leaned towards Gadates, who doubtless was most worthy, both both for his rare qualities, and in respect of his passion, since they say he adored the Queen Nitocris with as much purity, as men adore the Gods. This innocent passion having took root in the heart of this young Princess, who thought she could do nothing more advantageous for her people, then to give them a King whom she knew most virtuous; she began to receive the services of Gadates in such a manner, as this precedency above all the rest of them which were interested, was made known unto them. There needed no more to trouble all the Court, principally by Labinet, who by reason of his pretensions unto the Crown was most dangerous. Questionless this Prince had no great faults in him, although he was not owner of those heroic virtues which prefer men above their own qualities: yet notwithstanding, ambition, and love together inflaming his heart, he talked of nothing but civil wars of revolt, and of sedition: and truly the matter was so forward, that every one began to bandy parties: All the discontented lovers made one faction: Labinet made another by himself, followed by some stirring spirits: and Gadates, he had only the Queen on his side. The young Princess seeing the condition of affairs stand so, she was extremely troubled: and after she had well consulted with herself, that perhaps it might cost her a great Kingdom, she took a resolution which made the greatness of her soul and virtue to appear. For calling Gadates unto her, who doubtless she loved very well, and more than she had signified unto him; calling him, I say, unto her to give him a testimony of her affection after a new and surprising manner; Gadates (said she unto him) I have a desire to tell you that which doubtless you are ignorant of, at the least I am certain, that I have had some care to conceal it from you: Know then (pursued she) that I have thought you worthy to wear the Crown of Assyria; Madam (said he) it becomes the Queen Nitocris too well to take it from her; and he whom she shall choose for that honour were unworthy of it, if he should not content himself with being only the first of her subjects: Reserve your thanks Gadates (said she unto him) until the end of my discourse; for after I have given you this great testimony of my esteem, I must require another testimony from you of your affection: If it be to die at your feet Madam (replied he) I am most ready to obey you, and I do not know any thing in the world which I would not consent unto: observe me I conjure you; to the end I ask you nothing impossible. Gadates, who never durst speak of his love unto the Queen, was a little surprised, yet after this which she spoke unto him, he quickly recollected himself, and looking upon her with as much respect as love; provided Madam (said he unto her) that your Majesty do not forbid me to adore you, I shall never disobey you: No (said she sighing) I do not intend that my authority shall extend itself over the thoughts of the heart; and though, may be, my dominion would reach so far, yet would I not destroy those thoughts which your soul has of me: But that which I would tell you is this, That the necessity of State affairs, and the good of my people, will not permit me to make my own choice of a husband; I would have you know, I am resolved to assemble the State's General of my Kingdom, and to receive a husband by the universal allowance of my subjects; If they be reasonable, you may perhaps obtain their voices, as I would have given you mine, if they would have given me the liberty: But if you cannot procure yourself to be chosen by them, then resolve with yourself Gadates, never to see me again as long as you live; but to retire unto that Province which belongs unto you, and never come at this Court. I will not stand, wise Chrisantes, to tell you all the discourse between Gadates, and the Queen Nitocris, nor many other passages, which depend upon this discourse, though they be well worth observation, and much concerning: I shall only tell you, (to the end I may come unto the more essential part of my discourse) that do what Gadates could, he could obtain no more from her, but liberty to solicit the Judges of the matter. Then the Queen assembled the states general of her kingdom, declaring unto them, that she thought upon the good & satisfaction of her people, & therefore left them the liberty to choose themselves a King. When all the incensed lovers heard of this, they were surprised at the declaration; they were ravished with the wisdom & virtue of the Queen, & came unto Babylon to solicit their interests: but in conclusion, this powerful reason of state which would have all causes and pretences of civil wars removed, induced the states general to beseech the Queen that she would be pleased to marry Labinet, which she accordingly did without the least show of repugnancy, & was all her life extremely well pleased with her marriage, & lived very well with her husband: yet it was her pleasure that Gadates should obey her, should retire unto his province and never return to the Court. The King who knew the business, and also was acquainted with the virtue of this Princess, did much solicit her that Gadates might return to Babylon: but she would never consent unto it. A while after her marriage, she sent commands unto Gadates, that he should marry a Princess, descended from the Ancient kings of Bythinia who was extremely rich and infinitely virtuous; which he did, although certainly he did ever preserve his violent passion to the Queen: He lived as well with the Princess his wife, as the Queen did with her husband. Mean while Nitocris had a son, which was he whom you knew sometimes by the name of Philidaspes, sometimes by the title of the King of Assyria: Gadates had also a son and a daughter: and as soon as they were crept out of their first infancy, the Queen who was then a widow, and still forbade Gadates from coming to Court, commanded him to send his children unto her, that his son who was called Intaphernes might be brought up with the Prince of Assyria; and the young princess his daughter called Istrina, lived in that place where there might love grow between her and her son, unto whom she had a design to marry him, as well to satisfy the law in marrying a Princess who was not a stranger, as to testify the esteem she had unto Gadates, thinking she could not better nor more innocently acknowledge those services which he had done her, then by preferring his daughter unto the throne of Assyria: It seems also, that she took not this resolution out of choice only, but out of a necessity also: for all of the princes which had been pretenders unto the Queen Nitocris, the greatest part of them were resolved not to match with him, and the rest had no daughters: so that the Princess Istrina was the only Lady whom the King of Assyria could marry. But here you may well admire how humane prudence is limited, and how this great Queen, who by such public works is rendered famous throughout all the world, and ever shall be to all posterity, was deceived in her reasons, and how that which she thought would have caused love, did inspire the heart of the young King of Assyria with aversion. The Princess Istrina was ten years of age when she came to Babylon: Intaphernes her brother fifteen, and the Prince of Assyria fourteen: But from that very time the imperious humour which we saw in Philidaspes, began to take beginning and growth. He lived with Intaphernes after such a manner, as made all believe, he would not look upon him hereafter as a brother in law: he regarded the Princess Istrina with so much indifferency, that every one believed, were it not for fear to displease the Queen, the aversion he had towards her would have appeared more apparently. As for Intaphernes, as he was a Prince very well borne, so he behaved himself with the Prince of Assyria, in all such respects as was due, although he had much ado to endure his losty humour: yet ambition, and the advise of such as had the care over him, caused him to be very complacential towards him. The young Princess Istrina, for her part, she carried it with all the sweetness and civility towards Labinet, that can be expressed; for though she was very young, yet the Crown of Assyria, unto which she hoped she was destined, did shine so bright in her eyes, that she neglected nothing which might win upon the heart of that Prince whom she hoped to marry: The Queen for her part contributed all her endeavours to plant a liking in these two young hearts which she desired to unite; and to that end she caused them to see one another very oft, and at all feasts and public rejoicings, they exposed themselves unto the people both together, who by their acclamations and applauses did approve of the Queen's choice: for as I have heard say, it was impossible for any eye to behold any fairer object than the Princess Istrina. As for the Prince of Assyria, we know that he is as well made as a man can be: Intaphernes also, was handsome, and of a good garb. But do what the Queen could, the aversion of the Prince her son, did grow with his age: some ill minded spirits, persuaded him that Istrina was ambitious, and was only complacential towards him, because she would be a Queen, and therefore he accepted of all her civilities in a rejecting manner: he hated Intapherne's for no other reason, but because he was her brother, in whom notwithstanding no fault could be found: for certainly she was of a fine spirit, and her complexion as lovely a brown as was in the world: mean while the Prince of Assyria having attained unto his eighteenth year, and the Princess Istrina fourteen: the Queen did motion her son to marry her: but he beseeched her, not to press him yet to marry, and told her that a Prince who never yet was in any war, ought not to think of marriage. The Queen, knowing the violent humour of the Prince, thought best to give a little longer time, and the rather because in all appearance, there was like to be a war with the King of Phrygia, who had made some eruptions upon the frontiers of Assyria. Since this proposition: the Prince who before seemed only indifferent, did now change his course of life, and as much as he could possible, shunned meeting with the Princess Istrina; and therefore, he used to go every day almost to hunt, to the end he might not go so often unto the Queen: But by shunning the company of the sister, he could not shake off the brother, for Intaphernes followed him always, which did a little displease him: It often chanced, that Intaphernes thinking to get his esteem, he increased his hatred: for as he did not love to be surmounted in any thing, so the extraordinary expertness which Intaphernes had in darting the Javelin, shooting in the Bow, and such activities did always anger him: one time above the rest, the Prince shot at a Bear, and miss, presently after Intaphernes shot, and killed him dead: and the same day also, the Prince shot at a Lion, and miss; but Intaphernes killed him immediately, the Prince was so much angered at this adventure, that he could not commend him for it, but gave out some bitter expressions against the action: for as some could not forbear commending him, stay, (said he to the man) and keep your excess of commendations until we have been both together in the wars of Phrygia: for in my opinion there is more honour in killing of a man who can defend himself, then in killing a beast which runs away. Intaphernes did not hear what the Prince said, although he was very near; but some or other having told him afterwards, his spirit was a little exasperated; and upon this passage did rise a report which spread among strange nations that the Prince of Assyria killed him at that hunting: The same report with as little truth in it, took the son of Gadates for the son of Gobrias: though the truth was only as I tell you. Mean while, the Queen, seeing the Phrygian affairs were protracted, did again press the Prince to marry Istrina, and employed Mazares, Prince of Saces, who was then in Court, to persuade him unto it, for the Prince of Assyria loved him very dearly: Mazares, according to his instructions and commission, asked him from whence this aversion unto that marriage which was propounded unto him did proceed? for truly, said he to him, the Princess Istrina is very fair: 'tis true (answered he) but she is not such a one as can reach my heart: why, said Mazares, she is of a sweet and complacential disposition as you can desire: if she were a little more fierce, (replied the Prince of Assyria) she would please me more: But do you not confess, (replied Mazares) that she is one of an excellent spirit and much virtue? I believe the latter (answered he,) but for the other, since she knows not how to move my heart, I think I may be permitted to leave it disputable: but after all this, added Mazares, you are not at liberty to choose, for the Princess Istrina is the only Lady whom by the laws of this state you can marry throughout your whole kingdom: for my part I know not why you should not like her, and why you should not esteem yourself happy in such a wife, since she is fair, sweet, sprightly, and virtuous: Ah Mazares, said the Prince of Assyria, this fatal necessity, is the cause why I cannot endure the Princess Istrina: yes Mazares, I do confess, since you will know it, that this Princess has much beauty, sweetness, spirit, and virtue; But for all that, although I confess she is very amiable, yet I cannot love her, nor ever shall: No Mazares, Kings which are above the liberty of other men, ought not to be deprived of the liberty to choose a wife: It is a law which my predecessors have established, but which I cannot observe, especially in such a juncture of time, where there is none to choose, or where there is such a necessity, that if I will marry an Assyrian Princess, I must marry Istrina. For although that Gobrias have a daughter, yet the Assyrians make a difference between his country and ours, and moreover he is rather my vassal, than my subject: and I am most certain, (added this violent Prince) that if the law of the state, and the Queen's commands would not force me to love the Princess Istrina against my will, I should never love her. And I do confess unto you, that since I must not choose, I cannot love her, and the Prince of Assyria shall never be captivated with any thing in the world, since he ought to be free. But (said Mazares unto him) Kings do not use to marry as other men do, and it does not much import whether they love or not love those they marry. The Assyrians demand a Queen from you, satisfy them in their demands, and bestow your heart upon none but whom you please. My heart (replied the Prince smiling) is a thing which I esteem more precious then to bestow it upon any but a Queen: so that Mazares, if I should chance to love one who is not a Queen, I will reserve unto myself, the liberty to give her a Crown, therefore let us speak no more of it; and if you love me, act so in my behalf, that the Queen may not be offended at my disobedience. The Prince Mazares indeed, did use his best endeavours to persuade Nitocris; But there was no way to make her think well of her Son's disobedience: She whom all the world did look upon with high esteem; and who would leave unto her Son the most flourishing state in all Asia. Then she thought good to take from her Son this pretence of War with the King of Phrygia. When the Prince knew that, and not being able to hinder it, he did think that Peace would be no sooner published, but they would press marriage upon him; So that not knowing what pretence to find out, did bethink himself, to do what he could, in causing some other young Prince to be in love with the Princess Istrina; amongst the rest he pitched upon Mazares, and extremely pressed him unto it: My dear Mazares (said he unto him) Let me entreat you to love Istrina for the love of me; doubtless you have much disposition unto it already: for you have told me she is fair, of an excellent spirit, and great virtue: Why then do you not love her? because (answered Mazares) that fatal minuit wherein my destinies will have me begin to love is not yet come; and because the Queen will not suffer it, and because the Princess Istrina will not favourably look upon me: after he had, and all in vain, tormented Mazares, he went unto another, whom they said was really in love with her, and durst not tell it, and who durst not so much as acknowledge it unto the Prince, nor accept of those assistances which he offered him, out of his respect unto the Queen Nitocris, and Princess whom he loved; for indeed the Prince of Assyria, offered then no less than to take her away from them, and assist them in the most violent and unjust courses. Seeing then, that this invention would not take, he took a perverse resolution to cause the Princess Istrina to hate him; and since he knew she loved her brother very dearly; he carried himself very coldly towards him: One evening then, when they had nothing to do but stay for him who went to sign the Articles of Peace with the King of Phrygia, the King of Assyria being gone out to walk upon the banks of the River Euphrates, Intaphernes followed with many others, and as they were of that age which is most pleasant for the conversation of Ladies, Mazares said, that those Beauties which were inclined to flaxen hair, did most move his heart, and Intaphernes assured him that the brown had greatest influence in his fancy. For my part said the Prince of Assyria, I yet neither loved flaxen nor brown, but if ever I love any, I do not think it will be that which Intaphernes loves. Love Sir, (replied this Prince) will not give us leave to choose, and perhaps you may find his tyranny in conclusion. Love (replied this Imperious Prince) may perhaps as you say, become my conqueror, but I am very much deceived, if I be overcome by Assyrian Beauties: And I can tell you there are very Glorious ones in Babylon (replied Intaphernes when he was alone with him, some twelve paces from the company.) Yes (answered he with a malicious smile) but since the Princess Istrina cannot vanquish me, I fear none else, and I am well assured of my liberty in Babylon. My sister (answered Intaphernes with much respect) has not so good an opinion of her Beauty, as to pretend unto such an Illustrious conquest: But Sir, that which her charms cannot do, it is not impossible but other may, who have more attractive power than she, and who beside their merit, may perhaps have better fortune. It is very true (replied the Prince of Assyria very fiercely) she is not very fortunate in her designs, and she has reason to complain of her fate, that she has not gotten a Crown, which as she thinks she deserves. I know not Sir (answered Intaphernes a little sharply) why you should speak thus unto me; but I know very well that the house from whence I am descended, has more times than once given Queens unto the Assyrian Kings: and therefore when my sister by the Queens command hoped for the like honour, she did no more than what was reasonable. Fortune Intaphernes (replied this violent Prince) is not always blind in her gifts; sometimes she gives them with choice; and I am certain, that she shall never by my hand humorously bestow any Crown, nor shall ever by me, set such upon the Throne, who ought not to look upon it, but with a trembling eye. In other Kingdoms (answered Intaphernes) they say, the Prince is above the Laws; but in Assyria, the Laws are used to be above the Prince, whose Glory it is to be subject unto them: and upon this Reason, Subjects as my Sister, need not to tremble in looking upon that Throne whereon they may sit. When Subjects, as your Sister, shall live under the Reign of such a Prince as I (replied he) they will better learn what they ought to do, then yet she knows; and they will then see that Reason is stronger than the Laws, and that without injustice they may be broken when the Law is found unjust. Learn Intaphernes (pursued he) not to trust too much unto the Law; and renounce all those privileges which you think it gives you, and content yourself with that alliance which you have had heretofore with the Kings of Assyria; and believe that if ever I Reign, you shall never have any new alliance. May be, (replied Intaphernes) that before the Queen Nitocris has left you the Crown, you may change your mind. I understand you very well (answered the Prince of Assyria) you think because I Reign not yet, that you are almost my equal. But Intaphernes, undeceive yourself, and to begin to let you know that there is some difference betwixt you and I, I command you to retire, and to see me no more; If you will not, you will expose yourself: to find but course entertainment. Oh Sir, replied Intaphernes, Persons of my quality ought not to be thus used. I know not whether they ought to be (answered the Prince of Assyria) but I know very well, that if Intaphernes do not obey me, and that without murmuring, I shall give an example unto Princes which succeed me. Yes Sir, (replied Intaphernes in retiring himself) I will obey you, but it shall be more out of the respect I bear unto the Son of the Queen Nitocris, then out of fear to be ill entertained, since Princes that have the heart of Intaphernes, are confident that none shall do them wrong unpunished. The Prince of Assyria by good fortune did not hear these last words, and there was none but Mazares which heard them. At his departure from thence Intaphernes went to take his leave of the Queen; who would not give it: The Princess Istrina, for her part, being infinitely offended for the ill treatment of her brother, since it was in her behalf, did beseech Nitocris to send him to her Father, but the Queen denied her, as well as Intaphernes: Always telling them, that her Son would change his mind with his years, and that she would order him so to do: Mean while she was extreme angry at him, and could not choose but show it: so that the Prince coming to know of it, and he which went into Phrygia, reporting the Articles of Peace to be signed, he took a resolution to leave the Court of Assyria, and that way, deliver himself from the persecution which he suffered, and to travel unknown, until the Queen his mother had altered her mind, or that the Princess Istrina was married. He departed then the next morning, which was a public day of rejoining for the peace of Phrygia, and carried with him only three of his servants, amongst which, there was one of them a man of Quality, and of the same house from which they say Aribeus is descended, at that time when Cappadocia was under the power of the Assyrians, I will hold you no longer to tell you the voyages of that Prince, who upon his going from Babylon, took upon him the name of Philidaspes: only this I must tell you, that after he had been in many Courts of Asia, he came at the last unknown unto Sinope, upon that day wherein a Sacrifice was offered in the Temple of Mars, for the death of young Cyrus, a little before the Pontean, and Bithynian war.  
For (said Chrisantes, then interrupting her) was the day of that Sacrifice, the first day that the Prince of Assyria, under the name of Philidaspes, did see the Princess Mandana.  
It was so, replied Martesia, and it was that also on which he fell in love as well as the Illustrious Artamenes. You may suppose, that after this unto his first design of taking away the Princess Mandana, the execution whereof Artamenes endeavoured to hinder, I have little to tell you concerning him, since you have been witnesses of the secret jealousy which moved them to hate one another: therefore I will not insist upon the violent passion of Philidaspes, nor his jealousy, nor any thing which his Love produced in his heart: yet I must tell you of some things, which you could not know. How that this man who accompanied Philidaspes, and was descended from the same house of Aribeus, made himself known unto him, and also presented Philidaspes unto him as a man of Quality, who desired to travel unknown; desiring him to be favourable unto him, and present him unto the King of Cappadocia. This was the chief reason which moved Aribeus to protect Philidaspes, and to present him unto Ciaxares and Mandana a few days before the King went from Sinope to the wars: Mean while, Love being chief Commander in the heart of the Prince of Assyria, and he finding an opportunity of a war in Cappadocia; he resolved to stay in that Court, and live in such a manner as you know very well.  
But I would gladly know (amiable Martesia, said Feraulas) why the Prince of Assyria did not make his love known unto the Princess Mandana, since he had not the same reasons to conceal it which Cyrus had?  
He had partly the same reasons (replied she) for indeed the austere virtue of the Princess restrained him also as well as it did Artamenes: also he was not ignorant that Ciaxares would never consent that his daughter, who was to be Queen of Medea, should marry him: for doubtless you are not ignorant, how since the illustrious Deioces did set his Country at liberty, and delivered it from the Tyranny of the Assyrian Kings, there has been an irreconcilable hatred betwixt those two people; and that all the people would revolt from Astyages if he should ever give his consent unto this alliance: The Prince of Assyria then durst not speak of his love, unless he made himself known; and he durst not make himself known for fear he should be hated and denied, as well for the reasons aforesaid, as because the Laws, both of Assyria and Cappadocia, did forbid the banes. He thought then that his only course was, to get so good an opinion in the mind of the Princess, as might obtain his pardon when he should take her away, as he designed: but to execute this, he imagined that his absolute best way was to make Aribeus for him and his design: and since he had observed in several private discourses, that Aribeus was very passionately affected unto the Assyrian Nation, and that he could almost wish the Cappadocians were under their ancient Lords; he discovered himself unto him, and made him apprehend, that he could never find out a more innocent way to bring the Cappadocians under the Assyrian power, then by favouring his enterprise: You may well imagine by considering the actions of Aribeus since this time, that he harkened unto the proposition, and consented unto it; and also promised Philidaspes to serve him in all things. This Prince discovered himself unto him, a little after the taking of Caesarea: and they resolved that Philidaspes should make sure of some strong place in Assyria for his retreat, when he should carry away the the Princess Mandana; and not daring to think of carrying her unto the Court of Queen Nitocris, considering the manner how he parted from her: But since the business required some time, he resolved upon patience, and for a while to defer the execution of his design; yet he was in hopes of happy success, for he did believe, that when he had took the Princess Mandana away, than the Queen Nitocris would authorize his enterprise, since it would add three Kingdoms unto Assyria; and as for the Law, he thought that it might well admit of a favourable construction, by saying the Princess of Cappadocia was no stranger, since the Kingdom where she was born, did legally belong to him. He sent then unto the Governor of a Town which is some eight day's journey from Babylon, called Is, and which is situated upon a River of the same name, to the end he might suborn him, and oblige him to be faithful unto him. But whilst these things were in contriving, you were a witness of all the passages both in Court and Army, between these two illustrious Rivals; and I have nothing to tell you, until after the two Battles which Artamenes gained in one day: by one of which, you know, he took the King of Pontus' prisoner, and afterwards all the world believed him dead: But now in this place I must tell you, that Feraulas, before whom I speak, did perhaps hasten the execution of this first plot to take away the Princess Mandana, some months sooner than otherwise it would.  
I (amiable Martesia, said he) and interrupted her?  
Yes you (answered she;) for when you thought that your Master was dead, in the violence of your sorrows, you could not forbear crying out in the presence of Philidaspes, Alas poor Prince, must so glorious a life last no longer? he told me afterwards at Babylon, that then he stopped you, and asked you whether you Master was in that condition? and that you feigned the excess of your sorrows, made you spoke one word for another, but yet that did not hinder him from suspecting that the matter was as you had said.  
It is very true (replied Feraulas) I remember that I committed this error, and that in my extreme sorrow wherein then I was, in the extreme joy I was in afterwards for the resurrection of my dear Master, I had absolutely lost my memory. Feraulas, having done speaking, and Chrisantes desiring him to interrupt Martesia no more; she pursued her discourse.  
At the return of Artamenes and Philidaspes unto Sinope, the jealousy of the last did increase, and he being assured from the Governor of the Town of Is, that he should be received when he pleased, he thought upon nothing but ripening and acting his design: he saw also that he could never have a more favourable opportunity: for there being now a likelihood of peace, he conceived that he should need no more Troops than he already had, since he had four thousand men about the Town, which were under his command, and a Castle to retire unto, to give a colour for his not being at Sinope, whilst Aribeus was transacting his plot: believe you have not forgot how a Letter which this Prince writ, fell into the hands of Artamenes, and both discovered and prevented this conspiracy: But you do not know, how he which lost this Letter, coming unto Aribeus, and not finding it about him, was extremely surprised, & confessed that he feared the man with whom he had fought, had found it: Neither do you know, how Aribeus, knowing that Artamenes had been with the Princess and the King, went afterwards and changed the Guards, and sent to advertise Philidaspes, who after he had in the nighttime dispersed his four thousand men, which he had under the Castle, in lieu of flying, as all the world believed he did, went unto Pteria, whereof Aribeus was Governour, and there did lie concealed, resolving to wait there for a more favourable opportunity. It was for the love of him that Aribeus was so desirous to remove Artamenes from the Court, since he was so great an obstacle unto his design, and therefore he propounded unto Ciaxares, to send him unto the Queen of the Massagettes, to the end he might more easily execute his design, during his absence: There happened one chance which much crossed him, and which made him almost despair, and made him lose much time. It was this, as soon as Artamenes was gone his voyage, Philidaspes understood that the Governor of that Town of Is, unto which he was to retreat, was dead, so that he must seek out another sanctuary before he could attmept any thing; which took up so much time that he could not act his design until Artamenes was expected back again, of whom they had heard no news since his departure. The Governor of the Town of Opis, which stands upon the River Pygris being then suborned, and Aribeus also having corrupted one of my companions named Arianta, and made for him almost all the Guards of the Princess, he did execute his design at Themiscira, where Philidaspes was come without any danger, for he stirred not but in the night, and was so much disguised for this purpose, that he was not knowable. Now Chrisantes, I am come unto that part of my relation which is altogether unknown unto you; But I beseech you imagine how the Princess was surprised when she saw Philidaspes take her away, you have heard I suppose, how I followed my dear Mistress, in spite of those which took her away. I will not stay you so long as to relate how we left the Boat into which they put us: nor how we found horses ready on the other side of the River: nor which road we took; nor who was the guide: I will only tell you that just at break of day, we encamped within a wood, under a Tent which was set up: and neither the Princess nor I had spoke one syllable; nor were capable of understanding one syllable of all that Philidaspes said unto us, so much was her soul and mine sunk with sorrow: and I think that since the Princess in the first rapture of her sorrow, cried out unto Philidaspes, that, If Artamenes were at Themiscira, he durst not have attempted this enterprise, she spoke not one word at all: But after we were in the Tent, and the Princess half dead, did sit down on a cusion, which was laid upon a foot-cloth, that covered all the ground of the Tent; and as I stood by her as well as Arianta, who did counterfeit her sorrow admirably well; Philidaspes, after he had placed his Guards and Sentinels for most security, came and cast himself at her feet: and looking upon her with as much submission as he had audacity in taking her away; I know very well Madam (said he unto her) that Philidaspes is not only rash, but the Prince of Assyria also is most bold, and deserves to be punished for thus offering you one of the most illustrious Crowns in the world; Yes, Divine Princess, I do so much prise your virtue above your quality, that I do confess the greatest King in the world cannot pretend unto the honour of your love, without too great a presumption: But Madam, since the Gods have set you above all the Kings upon earth; and that none can presume to enjoy you without an injury; I thought that I might as well as any other, aspire unto this happy boldness which the Gods have destined you unto: I am perhaps less worthy of it then some others in consideration of myself; but I am, it may be, as much deserving as others in respect of that Crown I am to wear, and more than any other in respect of my passion to you; so that Madam, how unjust soever I am, I may perhaps merit some compassion, especially if you will but be pleased to know, that I have done nothing, but what I could not hinder myself from. For truly, if there had been any other way, to advance my hopes unto the honour which I pretend to, I should never have taken this; But you know Madam, that though I should have been so happy as not to be despised in your esteem, yet Ciaxares nor Astyages would ever have consented unto that proposition which I should have made; what then would you have a Prince do who loved and adored you? and who must either have Mandana or death? Death (replied the Princess in much anger) had been a choice more just and fit for you; for if you love Mandana, she will render your life more cruel unto you than you death would be. Perhaps Madam (replied he) that when you see me continually at your feet with unequalled submission, my tears and my sighs may move you to compassion: No, no, (said she and interrupted him) never expect any thing either from time, or tears, or sighs, or submissions, or any thing else; the heart of Mandana shall never be won that way; your crime is so far from being washed away by your tears, that your blood can never do it: Therefore Philidaspes (for so bad an action, deserves no better title) expect from hence forward, that my hate of you which began at Sinope, shall increase every minute: this shall be the progress of my soul, and believe it I will not stop it as long as I am a Captive: Therefore, if there be yet any spark remaining in your mind, which your unjust passion has not extinguished, know, that it will be much more advantageous for you, to repent of your crime, and set me at liberty, than thus to continue me your prisoner: we are not yet so far off Themiscira, but you may easily do it, and I will engage my word, to move the King my father not to resent this affront: I will promise you that the hatred which began to grow in my heart, since the first time you designed to take me away, shall vanish; and I shall think myself obliged unto you, if for the love of me you will surmount yourself: I shall then believe you love me really; whereas, if you will not be persuaded by my reasons, I shall believe that your own interest, not mine, does prompt you to this action; and that since you have no subjects of your own who is owner of any Crowns, you refuse them, and marry rather out of ambition than love. Moreover, do not ground any hopes, because I do not rail against you for the injury, my mouth Philidaspes is not accustomed unto it: neither do I know in what terms to speak unto those which injure me, since till now I never was wronged: But I am most certain, that I apprehend the injury you do me, as a Princess of a great soul ought to do; and without suffering myself to be transported by any unprofitable violence, I can extremely hate you; also I can unalterably resolve never to be moved, neither with your respects, your services, your tears, your sighs, your menaces, nor by death itself, if you put me to it: Once more, Philidaspes, bethink yourself, if you can repair your fault; and consider that nothing can be more unreasonable then to commit an unprofitable crime: Think into what a condition you are putting all Cappadocia, all Galatia, all Medea, and all Assyria; or indeed to say truly, all Asia, into what an affrighting disorder it will be brought; for assuredly Astyages and Ciaxares, will not endure this wrong without revenge, and all the Kings their allies will be engaged in the Quarrel: Fear, Philidaspes, tremble, lest you should be drowned in that River of blood which you shall cause to be spilt: For there are Gods, and Gods that are just and will revenge: Gods, I say, that will defend oppressed innocents', and are declared enemies unto unjust Princes: But is it possible Philidaspes, that the Queen Nitocris, who is a most illustrious Princess, does know of this unjust design? Can it be possible to find one in the world that would advise you to it? No Madam (replied Philidaspes) none gave me any counsel in it, I did not so much as consult with mine own reason; it was love only which was my adviser in the enterprise: But Madam it is now too late to advise Philidaspes unto repentance; your glorious eyes, incensed though they be, does command me not to hearken unto your words, but confirms me in my designs: Ah, alas, if it be so said the Princess, I forbid you to look upon me, and I for my part will never look upon you again: Go Philidaspes, go, go out of the Tent, and enter no more, unless you will augment your crime: Go out and walk in the woods I say, and consult with your reason, if you have any: Call unto your assistance your generosity, and dim not that honour and glory whereof you seem so amorous and jealous. The glory, Madam, which I did and ever shall aim at, is to set you upon the Throne of Assyria, and to see you command in the most stately Town in the world: Therefore, Madam, I think it but just to put all Asia in arms, since Mandana is of higher merit then to be obtained without less trouble, Perhaps when you see me in the head of two hundred thousand men, you will change your mind, and be upon better terms with me, than you are with Philidaspes, whom you thought to be no more than a common Cavalier, and who passed in your conceit for a man much inferior to your quality: But, Madam, upon all occasions wherein fortune shall smile upon me, and when I have conquered all those Kings who you say will engage themselves in your quarrel; I shall then descend out of my chair of triumph, to prostrate at your feet, myself, and all those palms wherewith they shall crown me. Ah, Philidaspes (said the Princess) I had rather see you in your grave, then in your chair of triumph after you have vanquished my father. Madam (replied he) you may if you will prevent the war, and those eyes, those fair eyes, which you so conceal from me, or else incensedly glance them, makes my arms fall out of my hands, if they but look smilingly upon me. I shall never end if I should tell you that which Philidaspes spoke (wise Chrisantes;) But in conclusion, the Princess being out of all patience, and seeing all she had said was in vain, did then command him to go out of the Tent, by such an absolute Authority, that he obeyed her. I must needs say thus much for Philidaspes; that although he was very hasty, and did many things very violently, yet he never failed in his respects unto the Princess: After he was gone out, we remained by ourselves: Philidaspes caused something to be presented unto Mandana for her to eat, but she would not touch a bit: yet we were not all this while he was out of the tent, at handsome freedom, for though we did not yet know that Arianta had betrayed her, yet the Princess had never any confidence in her, and for my part, she was never any of my friends: yet the Princess in this deplorable state, did make me know, she remembered Artamenes: she spent all that day, which was night to us, in lamenting her misfortune, and praying unto the gods to avert it: when night was come, they told us we must be gone, and it was with much ado, that I moved the Princess to eat something: Madam (said I to her in a low voice) Artamenes can perhaps fetch you out of the hands of a Prince, who is accustomed to vanquish, but he cannot fetch you out of your grave if you be once there: 'tis true Martesia (said she to me) but how can I live in such a miserable condition? It becomes the greatest souls (said I unto her) to endure the greatest misfortunes with most constancy: Ah Martesia (cried she) that constancy should be such a difficult virtue? It is a deceitful virtue also, which commonly never calms my eyes and face, but it leaves my heartful of cruel agitations: Indeed Sir, I spoke so earnestly unto her, that I constrained her to eat, and presently after they constrained us to depart: we marched in this manner three nights, before Mandana would permit Philidaspes to speak a word unto her: But in the end of the third night, as we were in the tent, and I according to the direction of Mandana looking whether Philidaspes was out of the reach of hearing what she said, we heard a great noise, and presently a servant of Philidaspes came unto us and caused us immediately to depart, not giving us any time at all. Since we heard a great noise some thirty or forty paces of us, and did not see Philidaspes, the Princess did imagine that perhaps it was somerelief was coming to them; and by reason of that Imagination we used all means possible, both by prayers and promises, and also striving not to go so fast away, as they caused us to go, but all would not do, for a part of them which guarded us, were such as never could hope for pardon, if those orders which they received were not exactly obeyed: so they carried us to a place where we found a coach which stayed for us, and with a convoy of fifty horses; we stayed there for Philidaspes, who came presently after unto us.  
Here Chrisantes could not forbear telling Martesia, what obstacle Philidaspes did then meet with; and how Artamenes saw her at the entry of the tent, but knew her not, and how he relieved Philidaspes; how he killed those which set upon him, and how he contributed to the carrying away of Mandana. At this discourse, Martesia cried mainly out with wonder: and after she had sufficiently testified her astonishment at such an extraordinary passage, she continued her relation.  
I will not stay, said she, since I have related unto you, this strange combat, and which doubtless the King of Assyria would not have kept from Mandana, but because he would not thereby occasion the memory of Artamenes in Mandanas' mind; I will not stay, I say, to repeat all our complaints during our sad voyage; nor with what obstinatness Mandana denied speaking with Philidaspes: only this, that at last, we came to the town of Opis, where we were lodged in a very magnificent chamber: and where Philidaspes neglected nothing which might render our imprisonment less offensive: But to tell you truly all his care was in vain, and the Princess sorrow was so violent, that nothing could moderate it; Mean while Philidaspes thought that if he could move the Queen his mother to favour the matter, and that she would receive the Princess Mandana unto her, than things would go according to his hearts desire: for he made no question but if the Queen Nitocris would take her in hand, she would gain him the heart of the Princess: he also believed that if she did but once see Mandana, she would presently alter her design of his marriage with Istrina, for the Princess of Cappadocia; and indeed, he sent one of his men secretly to Babylon unto the Prince of Saces who was yet in that Court: the Queen Nitocris having stayed him there ever since the absence of her son. For besides the good esteem which she had of him, he was nephew unto her, the Queen jarinas, his mother, (An excellent and virtuous Princess,) being sister unto the late King of Assyria her husband. He writ then unto Mazares, to the end, he might present, what he writ unto his mother, the Queen, and forward his desires: This Prince by his letter which he writ unto this Princess, did ask her pardon for departing from the Court without her leave, he desired her to forget it, and that she would be pleased to think well of his bringing the Princess of Cappadocia unto her, and that by her good consent he might marry her. Then he laid open unto her all the reasons which might induce her to approve of it, and forgot nothing that might win her approbation; but the return of the messenger did not bring him all the satisfaction he expected; for he understood, that the same day he arrived at Babylon, there also arrived an ambassador from Ciaxares, to demand of the Queen Nitocris, the Princess of Cappadocia; and that the Queen did disallow of the act, and that she herself would be the first which would take up arms to restore him the Princess his daughter: that when she read the letter which the Prince of Assyria had writ unto her, she could not forbear expressing herself, that she was willing he should bring Mandana unto Babylon, but it should only be to restore her unto Ciaxares: yet Mazares used his best endeavours to procure the Queen's consent unto it, but all were in vain: and he sent unto the Prince of Assyria, to advise him, not to bring the Princess whom he had taken away, unto Babylon, because he understood the Queen had promised Ciaxares by the Ambassador who was returned, never to consent unto the marriage, but to use all possible ways to send her unto the King of Medea her father: And indeed, if Mazares had not put her into some hopes that it were more easy to get her out of the hands of her son by policy then power, she had armed all Assyria against him: Mean while we were in the city of Opis, treated with all possible civility: although Mandana used all imaginable aversion and severity against the Prince of Assyria: for she did not only forbear speaking any thing which might please him, but she would not speak at all unto him, and sometimes she would not so much as suffer the sight of him: yet Philidaspes did as much as possible he could devise to qualify her aversion; and since he saw, she did me the honour to love me, what did he not do and say to move me unto his assistance? but say or do what he could, I could not promise any thing, and told him that all the Grandeur upon earth, should not move me to fail in my duty unto the Princess: yet since I feared the extreme rigour of Mandana might exasperate the mind of this Prince, and put him upon some unjust design, I did permit him sometimes to speak unto me of his love, and of his despair: indeed I do think it was not amiss, to prevent any desperate resolutions in him, considering the violence of his love and humour: Sometimes he would speak unto me concerning his love of Mandana, with as much reverence as is conceivable; and sometimes again, he would be so violent and speak so, as made me fear he was capable of some desperate destiny; but when I discovered his mind so inclined, Sir, said I unto him: take heed what you say, for the Princess yet does only hate you; but if she once see, you have any thoughts of neglecting that respect, which is her due, she will then exchange her hatred for scorn. Ah Martesia (said he) mistake not my crimes and my raptures: sorrow indeed is able to make me do the most Injust thing, but the reverence I have of Mandana prevents me; therefore Martesia, pity I beseech you my weakness, and though you will not advantage, yet do me no prejudice I conjure you. Sir, (said I unto him) I neither can help nor hurt you, for I dare never so much as speak of you unto Mandana. But wise Chrisantes, whatsoever I said unto the Prince of Assyria upon that subject, I think he did not believe me, but imagined, that I related all he said unto the Princess, though he was much deceived; for as long as Arianta was with us, we discoursed of nothing but our sorrows in general; and when we were alone, Artamenes was the only subject of our discourse. Alas, (said Mandana sometimes, when for a little liberty, we asked leave to walk by the river Tigris) in what despair will Artamenes be when he returns unto Themiscira and finds not us there? and when he shall know that Philidaspes, that same Philidaspes whom he so much hated, has carried me away? But oh heavens! will he not suspect my virtue? can he think that Philidaspes durst execute such a design without my consent? But on the other side, can he think that Mandana is capable of any such thing? Ha no no, he will believe me to be innocent though unfortunate. Artamenes, the Illustrious Artamenes, will never conceive that one who has been so severe unto him, can be so pliable unto his Enemy: Thus did we spend our tedious time when we had any liberty, but that was seldom; for besides Arianta, who always kept close about the Princess, there was a great sort of other women which Philidaspes appointed to wait upon the Princess, who almost never left her. But it is admirable to consider how virtue will shine in those who are in adversity, although it be extreme, for the Princess had not been among them above fifteen days, but every one of them who were about her did adore her: but we could not for all that see an end of our misery, nor Philidaspes of his. Still he continued writing unto Mazares, that he should still solicit the Queen: he writ also secretly unto Aribeus, for relief if he should stand in any need of it: He sent also unto the King of Lydia, to desire assistance, knowing him to be no friend neither unto Astyages, or Ciaxares, though there was an alliance between them: Truth, he neglected nothing that might advance his design; either in inviting Princes unto his Party, or in putting the Town of Opis into a condition to abide a Siege, in case it should be beleaguered: For our parts, we neither knew what we should do, or what to hope for; for we knew not that Artamenes was returned unto Themiscira. Therefore the Princess, who could not endure to be so in the power of a violent and amorous Prince, did one day resolve to speak with him, intending to ask a favour at his hand, which presently I shall relate unto you. You may imagine how joyful Philidaspes was, when Arianta told him, the Princess would speak with him, and doubtless, you believe he diligently obeyed the Command. When he was entered into the Princess Chamber, Is it possible Madam (said he to her) that the Princess Mandana will speak with the unfortunate Philidaspes, unless it be to pronounce the sentence of his death? But though you should do so, (Divine Princess) I would upon my knee receive the Doom with joy, so much does this honour, in commanding me to come unto you, delightfully disturb my reason. Sir said she to him, (for through my advice, she resolved to treat him as she did) since I have so often in vain desired you to send me either to Themiscira, or Sinope, or Ancyra, or Amasia, I intent to ask you a thing which you ought not to deny me: for since it is so far from ask you to go out of your Dominions, as I conjure you to conduct me unto Babylon, to the Queen Nitocris, where I shall be in a handsomer condition than I can be here in this place: If you consent unto this favour, I shall promise you, to diminish a little of that just hatred, which is growing in my soul; for I cannot endure that all Asia should know I am in your power, and that I should have no other witnesses of my virtue, but my greatest enemy. Madam (replied Philidaspes, being a little surprised) if you will do me the honour to go unto Babylon, with intention to be one day the Queen of it, and to take from the hands of Nitocris, that Sceptre which she has most gloriously swayed, doubtless I shall consent unto your proposition: But if in going to Babylon, your design be to go thereby the sooner unto Themiscira, pardon me Madam, if I be constrained to disobey you: And to tell the truth, squares go not so handsomely there, because for some certain reasons I am in some disgust with the Queen, yet more for the love of you, then for any other cause; therefore in desiring that Madam, you would have me carry you unto a place that will be rather my punishment, than my sanctuary. It is not out of any fear that I refuse you, but love only forceth it. You told me once Madam, that nothing was more unreasonable then to commit a great crime, to no end: Think not ill then, if I endeavour to prevent falling into the like fault. The Crime is already committed, Madam: I was so presumptuous as to take you away; and it behoves me endeavour for so much happiness as to obtain my Pardon and your Love. The way you take (replied the Princess very sharply) makes it a hard matter to obtain either your Pardon or my Love. Do you know Madam, what may be hereafter, (replied this Prince?) I know very well (replied she) that the time will never come in which Mandana will love you. Yet Madam (answered he) I hope there is no absolute impossibility in it. Whosoever should have told me, the first day I came unto the Temple of Mars in Sinope, that I should fall desperately in love with you, I should not have believed it: and whosoever should have told me the first time that I saw Artamenes in that same place, and on that same day, that I should mortally hate him, I could not have believed it; for truly I saw no women in that Temple which could enamour me; And I found Artamenes, very handsome, well proportioned, of a good deportment, and very civil: yet I am in extreme love with you, and in extreme hate of him. The Princess blushed at the name of Artamenes, and the Prince who always looked upon her, observed it: yet notwithstanding, he durst not then speak of it; and it was at Babylon where he told me of it. The Princess, seeing her discourse was to no purpose, broke it off, and went away whether he would or no. A few days after, we heard of the death of Astyages, though Philidaspes kept it from the Princess as much as he could: but when he understood she knew of it, he put himself in mourning and came to visit her. And not long after that we heard how the Queen Nitocris died, after she had finished her magnificient Tomb, which is in the prime Port of Babylon, and that the disobedience and bad action of her Son, was the cause of her death. These two accidents did both of them extremely trouble the Princess: The first, because he was so near in kindred: The second, because she relied much upon the virtue of the Queen Nitocris. We understood by one of those women which they had placed about the Princess, that Mazares did the Prince of Assyria very good service at this time, and that but for him the Queen had disposed of her Crown from him: We understood also by her, that the Princess Istrina, according unto the last Will of the Queen, went from Babylon the next day after her death into Bythinia where her brother Intaphernes then was, who went thither to assist Arsamones in recovering his estate from the King of Pontus, who (as was reported) was likely to lose both his Kingdoms. Mean while we were not persecuted with any visits from the new King of Assyria for some certain days, because as indeed he had some Generosity in him, he was very sad at the death of the Queen Nitocris: Yet as Love was the predominate passion in his soul, and the first days of mourning being over, he hoped that the magnificence of Babylon might perhaps work upon the heart of the Princess, which caused him a little sooner to cheer himself up from his sorrows for the Queen his mother, who put mourning into the hearts of all her Subjects. Mean while Mazares writ unto the King, that it was very requisite he came presently as soon as he could to show himself unto the people, and that a Throne was such a place as ought not to be long empty, lest some should be tempted to fill it up: Yet for all that, there was no reason of State so strong as could move him to leave Mandana to go unto Babylon: but he writ unto Mazares, that he should prepare all things in the most pompous manner against his entrance; and that he should send thither unto him all things necessary to conduct the Princess of Medea thither, for since the death of Astyages, we will no more call her the Princess of Cappadocia. I forgot to tell you (wise Chrisantes) how after the death of the Queen Nitocris, the Princess by my advice sent unto the new King, to tell him she was very sorry for the death of the Queen his Mother, and how afterwards, he came to thank her for that Compliment which with much ado I obtained from her. But to return unto my story; The King of Assyria came one day unto Mandana's chamber, aster he had civilly sent to ask leave; and after he had with much reverence saluted her; Madam (said he unto her) The River Euphrates is jealous of that honour, which the River Tigris hath received from you, and it is but just that the prime Town in the World should be honoured with the presence of the most Fair, and Illustrious Mandana. When I asked you, to go unto Babylon (replied Mandana) the Queen Nitocris was living: And when I would wait upon you thither (replied this Prince) the Throne of Assyria is ready to receive you, and all the people willing to salute you by the Title of Queen. No Sir (said she to him) never hope that change of place can change my soul, nor that the sight of stately Babylon can move my heart. I had rather spin away my life in a Shepherd's cottage, then sit on the Throne of a King that is offensive unto me: No Sir, once for all, I will neither command nor obey you: I will never sit in the seat of that Queen whose virtues I cannot parallel; and I had much rather be in your prison, then on the Throne of Assyria. If I were able to resist, I would not I warrant you be hurried whither you would have me; nor would I willingly draw the war unto that Town which passeth for one of the wonders of the World: I would if I could, save the blood of so many innocent persons wherewith it is filled: But since I cannot resist your design, Let me tell you, that I shall be the same at Babylon, I am at Opis; and that the King of Assyria with all his great Magnificence, shall move no heart of mine, more than he could when he seemed only Philidaspes. Time Madam (replied he, because for all her severity, he was in some hopes) will show whether your rigorous resolution be more strong thou my perseverance; At least, if you do resolve upon my death, I shall have a more Illustrious Tomb at Babylon, than I can have here; and you will have more witnesses of that cruelty wherein you glory. So it was Chrisantes, that three days after, we must resolve upon departure; and to report what our equipage was, is so unnecessary it would but abuse your patience; unless you be of their humour who say, that liberality is the tried measure of love; for if so, than I cannot make you understand the greatness of the King of Assyrias passion, better, then by relating the prodigious expenses at the entrance of the Princess into Babylon. That morning which we went from Opis, we saw in a great court under the window of the Princess, Twelve magnificent Chariots, for the Ladies which were to accompany her, and another, most incomparably above the rest for herself. We saw also two hundred Camels for the baggage, with sumpter clothes of Tyrian purple embroidered with gold: and when we were at the gates of the town, we saw in a great plain, fifteen thousand men in Arms, all having gilt morrions, and crosslets of the same with Bows of Ebony, and Arrows piled with gold, who dividing themselves into two bodies, one part marched before, the other behind, and the Chariots in the middle: As for the Camels they went some two hundred paces before the Soldiers: And as for the King, he went on horse back next after the Chariot in which was the Princess, which went last of all the Chariots, he and a thousand horse did follow him: thus went we to Babylon, until we were within one day's Journey, and the King of Assyria desired the Princess should rest herself a day in a Castle where we lodged; mean while, all necessary preparations were making for our entrance: questionless you will think it strange to hear talk of all this magnificence so presently after the death of the Queen Nitocris; but it is the Assyrian fashion as well as of Cappadocia who was once in subjection unto them, that the people never are in mourning above three days after the death of their Kings; because, say they, there is more to rejoice then mourn, that they have so gloriously finished their reign. See that the Babylonians had no sooner ended their pomp of mourning for their Queen, but they were in another pomp of rejoicing for the Arrival of Mandana: yet you may be assured that she herself was no participant at the feast: mean time, although she was resolved to be seen that day as carelessly dressed as possibly she could, yet she could not bring it to pass: For since all the women which waited upon her, and waited upon Arianta and me, were of the King of Assyria's placing, and since Arianta herself was of conspiracy with him; there was no clothes that morning to be found, but such as were most rich, and full of pearls and diamonds: for my part, I do confess, that this device did not anger me so much as it did the Princess, who was ready to chide me for it; Madam (said I unto her to excuse myself, and because indeed, it did concur with my opinion) the King of Assyria does think questionless to Justify his action unto the people by your admirable beauty; and therefore desires you should appear in most glory; but, never thinks, that unless he look very well about him you will make all his subjects Rebels; and if you will follow my counsel, you shall appear in all your charms; for then, if this Prince, should ever attempt any thing against you; the people in favour of you would revolt from him: you are very ingenious (said she to me) to excuse your own fault, or to say better, your simplicity: But Martesia, as flattering as you are, you wrong me much to be moved no more than you are at my dislike of this, and to counsel me unto it, as you have done, for I beseech you tell me, what will the unhappy Artamenes think, if he should chance to know, by the report of those spies which the King my ●●ther has in Babylon, that I show myself in such a dress, as speaks Joyful, and well pleased? All the rest of the magnificence cannot be imputed unto me; but it may be thought I consented unto this. Madam, (said I unto her) if you might do as you pleased, and had your choice, I should not then advise you as I do; but since it is not, it is a good expedient, to draw a good out of an evil; and to endeavour if it be possible that the same beauty which caused you to be taken away, may also procure you protectors if you shall need them: And as for what you say concerning Artamenes; believe it Madam, that if the King your father have any spies in Babylon, who will report faithfully what they have seen, they will speak more of your melancholy, than your dress, you need not fear it: So indeed Chrisantes, when the Princess could do no other, she suffered herself tobe so dressed, yet without any art or care at all: but as you know very well, her hair is so admirable fair, that her neglective comeliness, was extremely becoming. All the clothes they brought us were made after the Medean and Cappadocian fashion, to wit, of fresh, lively, and glorious colours: As for the women of quality in Babylon, they never wear any colour, but white; yet notwithstanding very magnificently and gallantly dressed, having no colours about them but Diamonds, Emeralds, and Rubies, which gave a glorious lustre● and after that day, we came to know as much, for though the Princess had much unwillingness to be seen, yet more than two hundred women of quality, came to do their reverence unto her: she received them very civilly, but in so deep a melancholy, that she begot as much pity as admiration: in conclusion, we must depart, and in lieu of twelve Chariots full of Ladies, which we had the day before, there was now a hundred times as many: As for the Princess, she was compelled to go into a stately magnificent chair of triumph, all the ornaments whereof were pure gold; It was drawn by four Tigers, harnessed the most ornamentally that could be devised: four men of prime quality carried a stately Canopy over the Chair, embroidered with Gold, Pearls, and Diamonds, and such as the Sydiaonns only know how to do: I will not insist upon a particular description of this pomp; only tell you that all that great plain as we came to Babylon, and which you know very well is set with palm trees of a prodigious height, was full of troops, but such troops as were all armed in a most strange magnificence. At every hundred paces distance, we saw Arches of triumph erected, upon which were very glorious inscriptions: They were all very stately; and we saw nothing which spoke not Joy and Grandeur: About two furlongs from the town, the Prince of Saces, who was a man very fashionable and handsome, also rich in clothes, and upon a horse of Isabel colour with a black mane, came in the head of two thousand horse, to present unto the Princess from the King, great keys of gold in a box of the same mettle, Topazes and Amethists: Madam, (said he in presenting them unto her) the King has commanded me to obey you, and from him to offer, that which he only can give you. Sir, answered the Princess (for they had informed her of the quality of Mazares) If in presenting unto me two keys of Babylon, you will assure me, that I may be permitted in the morning to open the gates, to return unto Themiscira, or go unto Ecbatane I should accept of them, and be eternally obliged unto you for the offer; but if that liberty will not be allowed me, (pursued she with a charming melancholy which eclipsed nothing of her beauty) It seems unto me to be a piece of injustice, and something inhuman, that I myself should keep the keys of my prison. So Sir, until the King of Assyria, be resolved to grant me that, I pray you keep what you offer me, since I think they cannot be in better hands than yours. Mazares, charmed with the beauty, spirit, and civility, of the Princess, told her, that he would not keep what she was pleased to do him so much honour as to trust him with, but that she might use them at her own disposition when she came unto the town: and staying no longer, he Joined his troop which was very magnificent, with the Kings: this Prince, marched by himself, next immediately after the Princess her triumphant Chair, but so glorious, so handsome, and so glittering with gold and jewels, that except Artamenes, I never saw a man of a better garb than he: At the entry into the town, the Princess was presented with a speech, or to say better an elegy: All the houses were hung with rich Tapestry, every street strewed with flowers: All the windows were full of women, handsomely dressed: Trumpets and Flutes made the Air Echo: All the people were ravished at the beauty of the Princess; and expressed their wonder with such loud acclamations, as joyed the King of Assyria beyond all expressions; at the last Chrisantes, we were brought unto the palace of the Queen Nitocris: the King of Assyria presented his hand unto the Princess as she descended from her Chair, to conduct her unto her Chamber: she had a good disposition to refuse it, but she thought that it would appear fantastical, and to no purpose. And therefore without any incivility she gave him her hand; but it was after such a manner, as she let see, it was not the quality of the King of Assyria, did move her unto that complacency, insomuch as he was nothing satisfied with it; we passed through some chambers all upon a floor one within another, all were magnificently furnished; in the last of these, he made her a very low congee, and told her, that from hence forward, it was in her power to command all Assyria; and that he was but the first of her subjects: at the last, after an hour was spent, in accepting the compliments of all the Babylonian grandees, they left us at a little liberty; and we had so much consolation, as to know, that all those women which waited upon the Queen Nitocris, were appointed to wait upon the Princess Mandana, so that none came about her, but such as were persons of very virtuous minds: a little while after we were left alone, and Arianta being gone into another Chamber; the Princess looked upn me with extreme melancholy: Ah Martesia (said she) where are we now? and how shall we ever get out? did you not observe, said she to me, the monstrous walls of Babylon, which are so thick and strong, that several Chariots may pass one by another upon them? did you not observe the high towers all about them; and did you not mark how the River Euphrates so encloses it, as makes the access unto it very difficult, if any should attempt to besiege it? were you not astonished at the innumerable company of people where with it is filled? and the gates of Brass, which shuts them in? Is it not to be feared, that if all Asia should arm themselves in my behalf, they could never get me out of it? and as valiant as Artamenes is, he can never vanquish the King of Assyria, as long as he is within the walls of this Town: These are the thoughts, my dear Martesia, which took up my mind, all the time of this disgustive Ceremony; and thus much did all their Magnifice at the entry work upon me. Madam (said I unto her) The Gods can do what they please, and that which to all humane Prudence is impossible, to them is easy. You say well, said she, and I have no other hopes but what are grounded upon their Assistance. And indeed, the next morning, the Princess would go unto the Temple, and they conducted her unto that of Jupiter Belus, which is one of the fairest in the World: Mean while the King of Assyria endeavoured to win her by sweetness, and feared to anger her. I visited her but one hour in a day, and that was before many people, so that the Princess was less troubled at it. The Prince Mazares, by order from the King, did often visit her, the King desired him, to speak unto her in his behalf, knowing that there was not any man in the world had more charming eloquence in his conversation than he. Indeed this Prince did negotiate so admirably well to get unto himself the Princess esteem, and gain her love, that it was not a little consolation unto himself: He was full of sweetness, civility, and respect: and although he did speak to the King of Assyria's advantage, when any occasion was offered; yet notwithstanding, we discovered in his eyes an obliging melancholy; and because we thought that it was only an effect of his compassion towards us and our misfortunes, the Princess could not forbear, sometimes commending him. But Chrisantes, that you may the better understand the rest of my discourse, I must in this part of it, discover a thing unto you, which we knew not a long time after, nor which we did so much as suspect at all. It is very true, that the unfortunate Mazares did admirably well disguise his thoughts. But I must tell you Chrisantes, how this Prince in presenting the Keys of Babylon unto the Princess, the first day we came thither, did then absolutely lose his liberty, and was captivated with the Beauty of Mandana, as well as the King of Assyria. Since he was never in lovebefore, he was not at first acquainted with the passion. He imagined (as I since knew by the generous Orsanes, who is now come with me, and who discovered unto me all the secrets of his Master's thoughts) that admiration, only joined with pity to see so fair a Lady in misery, was it which troubled his mind: Yet within eight days after, he perceived that it was more than so: He accepted therefore of the King of Assyria's Commission, to see her often, and to speak unto her in his behalf: for what reason had he to refuse it? Yet notwithstanding, he seemed at the first to scruple at it; but afterwards, whether he wanted a lawful excuse, or whether his secret passion would not suffer him to refuse the sight of her whom he loved in spite of his teeth, he promised the King, that he would visit her, and do him the best service he could; and indeed, he did visit her, and endeavoured to do him service: For it must be acknowledged, that Mazares was naturally Generous, and that love only caused him to do things contrary to Generosity. Orsanes did assure me, that he had discovered his heart unto him; and that there was no course which he did not use, to regulate his passion, and to keep it within the limits of esteem and friendship, What unhappy destiny is mine? (would he say unto Orsanes) I lived all my life in a Court, amidst an infinite number of Beauties, and never was in love with any, but I no sooner looked upon Mandana, but I am desperately captivated. Ha Orsanes, said he, how those who say, that hope begins with love are deceived? For, what is it, I can hope for? I find a passion in myself, which I ought, and which I will resist; and though I cannot perhaps absolutely vanquish it, yet I will eternally conceal it at the least: for truly I have promised a friendly office unto the King of Assyria; I am his vassal; I have the honour to be his Kinsman; and he has made choice of me for a confident of his passion: How can I ever overcome all these objections? But suppose my Generosity should submit unto my love? and that I should resolve to betray a Prince unto whom I owe much respect? I should not be the better, since it is to be believed, that a Princess who treats the King of Assyria so coursely, will never receive the Prince of Saces into favour; Therefore Orsanes (said he to him) there is no hopes for me, though I do love, and that so desperately as I have lost my reason: But, said he, since there is no hope in my passion, I will hope it will continue long, or rather think, that since my despair will not cause my passion to die, it will continue for ever: Love then, said he, love on, since it is my destiny; Love, and make no scruple at it; for indeed we cannot be masters of our affection; it is well if we can hide them, and if I can content myself with the esteem and friendship of Mandana. In short Chrisantes, when Mazares could not root his love of Mandana out of his heart, he resolved to keep it secret, and not to give over doing a good office for the King of Assyria; but yet Chrisantes he spoke not one word in his behalf, which did not yield him a thousand secret vexations; nor did the Princess give him a word unto his disadvantage, which joyed him not so much, as he had much ado to hide it; so that he was both faithful and unfaithful at once: his mouth spoke for the King of Assyria, but his heart betrayed him; and whatsoever he either said or did, one might always see his soul was infinitely afraid to displease the Princess Mandana: nor did I ever see in any one more respect than in him to her. Mean while, we suspected nothing of his passion; he seemed sometimes very melancholy indeed, but his addresses, without any words, did tell us the misfortunes of the Princess did trouble him; and that he could wish the King of Assyria, would give over his design. Thus was the state of things, when a piece of cross misfortune happened unto us, which did exceedingly trouble us; for when the King of Assyria, found no alteration in the mind of Mandana, notwithstanding all his respects, and submissions, and all the endeavours of Mazares, he began to think that the heart of the Princess was already disposed of; and when he called to mind all the jealousies, he entertained that Artamenes was in love with Mandana; and when he remembered what he had heard from the mouth of Feraulas concerning the quality of Artamenes, all thought of the Princess blushing at Opis, when Artamenes was named: Then he said unto Mazares (after he had related unto him all the passages in the Cappadocian Court) it is no more to be questioned, but that Artamenes is not only a Prince, nor a Prince only that loves Mandana, but Mandana also loves Artamenes. You may very well imagine, how this conceit tormented the mind of this young Prince; and how it disquieted the thoughts of Mazares; he was so planetstruck at it, that the King of Assyria, supposing that it was in consideration of his interest, did heartily thank him for it. Mean while, to clear all his doubts, he found an opportunity to speak in private with Arianta, who unknown to us had unluckily understood our discourse the night before, and where the Princess and I had repeated almost all the passages of his life, excepting the name of Cyrus, which happily we pronounced not. But though she understood not all we said, yet she heard enough to clear all doubts, that there was a correspondency between Artamenes and Mandana: So that when the King of Assyria had spoken with this malicious wench, he understood more from her than he desired to know: Yet notwithstanding, since she did make but a confused relation of things, he resolved to clear his doubts a little more fully, and speak unto the Princess herself: And as jealousy is a much more turbulent passion than love; so the King of Assyria, when he entered into Mandana's chamber, seemed unto me much altered: There was then none with her but Arianta and myself: he saluted her with all due reverence; and began to discourse of things indifferent; yet notwithstanding all this, there appeared so much distemper in his mind, as we could easily perceive it: Madam (said he to her, after much interrupted discourse) I would gladly know one thing from you, which is of infinite importance both to me, and you also: If I may conveniently tell it (replied the Princess) and if I know it, perhaps I may satisfy your curiosity. Yes Madam (answered he) you do know it, and to conceal it no longer, I wish you would do me the honour to tell me who is that great enemy who surmounts me, and keeps such strong possession in your heart; for such a one there is; else I know not why all my cares, my respects, and my submissions should beget such an aversion in you to me. Sir (said the Princess unto him, not thinking he knew any thing relating unto Artamenes) trouble not yourself to find out the secret reasons of my proceedings with you; and know that though I loved you, and that extreme dearly, if you would take me thus away without my consent, I should never love you after it; for I have a strong aversion against all those, who once only in their lives do fail in that duty which they owe unto me. How Madam, (replied this violent Prince almost against his intention) if Artamenes had done what Philidaspes did, would you have used him as you use me? Artamenes, (answered the Princess blushing) is too wise for me to think he would ever commit such a crime: But Sir, why do you speak of Artamenes upon this occasion? I speak of him, Madam, replied he, as of a man who has overcome me more than once, but much more cruelly in your heart, then with arms in his hands; Yes Madam, this Artamenes whom I ever hated, and whom you have heretofore commanded me to love, is questionless the man who opposes my glory, and my good fortunes: As I have no unjust thoughts (replied the Princess calmly) so I will not deny, but I have had, and still have a great esteem of Artamenes: and you yourself know, I am obliged not to hate him: Those obligations, (replied this turbulent Prince) would never have moved the Princess Mandana, to entertain a secret affection unto a simple common Cavalier, if her heart had not been prompted unto it by some more potent inclination. This simple Cavalier whom you speak of (replied the Princess very angrily) appeared to be as much as Philidaspes did at that time, and may perhaps be one day more than he, although he be King of Assyria: He shall not need to stay long for that, answered he; for since Artamenes is possessor of your affection, I value him above all Princes upon earth; though he be no more than he seems to be: you express much pride, and much humility together (replied the Princess;) but Sir, after all this, I would wish you to unaccustome yourself to speak so imperiously unto me, for I cannot endure it. The King of Assyria, seeing he had extremely incensed the Princess, and passing out of his extreme violence into extreme submission; Alas Madam (said he unto her) would you have me retain my reason, when I understand that the same heart, which I did think all the earth could not move, is not so insensible of Artamenes? was it not enough to know you hate me, but that I must know you love another? and that other whom I most hate? As long as I believed you to be insensible, the Gods do know that I did justify you with my whole heart, as much as ever I could; and should have confessed, that you had good cause to scorn all the Kings upon earth, because there was none worthy of you: I should have acknowledged that my proceedings thus with you, did deserve to make me wait a long time for a pardon of my fault. But Madam, since I certainly perceive, that the only man upon the face of the earth whom I hate (though I once esteemed him) is the only man you love; Ah Madam, I cannot keep within those limits prescribed: I have complained, I have accused you, I have lost my respect in losing my reason; if I could have pulled my soul out of this violent passion, I should have done it with abundance of joy; I have done all I can to hate you, but the Gods do know all my endeavours are in vain; for I love you more than I did: My hate of Artamenes augments, and my love to Mandana multiplies; I find fresh sparks of love in me: and Madam, I must, indeed I must chase Artamenes out of your heart; my respects, my solicitations, my t 〈…〉 and sighs must destroy him: The truth is, I must either die, or he must live no longer in your memory. The Princess hearing the King of Assyria speak so, did no longer doubt but that he knew some passage of her affection unto Artamenes, and therefore she did not think it convenient to make a subtlety of her innocent friendship; and considering in what disorder this discourse had driven her soul, she thought that perhaps when he saw that there was no hopes of ever being beloved, he would then let her alone in quiet; therefore, being to speak, Sir, (said she unto him) the Gods do know whether I use any criminous dissimulation; The ingenuity I use unto you may make you know it. Ah Madam, (said the King of Assyria then) be not so sincere, as to tell me all your advantageous thoughts of Artamenes; hide, rather from me, some part of his glory, and put not my patience unto such a vigorous test. I cannot tell you any thing more than yourself knows, (answered the Princess) for indeed, all the Court of Cappadocia knows, how I much esteemed Artamenes; and I told you as much at that time when you were Philidaspes; But all the Court of Cappadocia is ignorant of what I see you know, and what I will confess unto you; which is, that Artamenes is of a quality equal unto yours; and that if the King my father would consent unto it, than the affection which Artamenes bears unto me, should find from me all the recompense he deserves. Thus Sir, you see upon what terms the business is, and perhaps you know more now, then yet Artamenes himself knows; and thus I have told you that important truth which you so earnestly desired to know: And now it is your part to regulate your designs and your affection to me; you have a high soul, which is full of generosity; therefore I need say no more upon this subject. You may yet take such a course as may oblige me to esteem you, and which may yet retain the friendship of Artamenes. Ha, Madam, (said this Prince) although your esteem be very glorious, yet I will have none of it without your affection: nor care I for the friendship of that man who enjoys your affection, and who is the only obstacle which hinders me from it: No, no, Madam, Artamenes and I must take more rough courses to decide our differences; his death must either give you satisfaction for your cruelty, or mine shall assure his good fortune and yours together: In saying so he went out, and left the Princess extremely troubled. He went to Mazares, and related unto him all that Mandana said: This unfortunate Prince did lend a most unquiet ear unto him; sometimes he would be sorry for the King of Assyria; and sometimes he would be glad, there was such an obstacle in the heart of the Princess, as would prevent the King from being loved; and sometimes he would hope, that between a lover hated, and a lover absent, he might perhaps thrive the better in his design; so that he resolved to endeavour all ways whereby he might gain the esteem and favour of the Princess: Yet he did not intend to act against the rules of generosity; for, said he, it shall not be I who will hinder the King of Assyria, it shall be Artamenes, who shall be the obstacle. But Oh heavens, (said he presently to himself!) This Artamenes, who opposes the designs of the King of Assyria, will also oppose Mazares; yet (added he) Mazares shall not vanquish him by open force, nor declared war;; policy shall help out where force is inavailable; and since there is no other way to be happy, I must have recourse unto subtlety: Mean while, since he perceived the King of Assyria was much incensed, and in such a condition as might perhaps move him to undertake some desperate resolution, he restrained him with all imaginable art, and caused him to rely much upon his solicitations. Indeed, he went to visit the Princess, and as she had much confidence in him, & was not ignorant how the King of Assyria told him every thing, she spoke unto him with so much spirit, so much virtue, so much sweetness, and in such an obliging manner, that Mazares did almost resolve, to entertain no more than a friendship with her; but oh heavens, how weak a foundation had those thoughts in him, when he harkened unto the Princess his heart melted: Compassion on her caused him almost to shed tears; but when he lifted up his eyes, and saw Mandana's fresh flames dried up his tears, and choked his first design by enflaming his soul: The Princess notwithstanding was very well satisfied with him; for as she seemed to take some notice of the King of Assyria's violent humour: No Madam (said he to her, after such a manner as might persuade her that he expressed his real thoughts) fear not the violence of the King of Assyria; I will engage my word unto you, to employ all my diligence, in preventing all vicious thoughts in him: But, if I cannot dissuade him from any such designs, I do protest unto you, that from a vassal I shall become an enemy unto him; and that as long as Mazares lives, the Princess Mandana, shall find no other violence from the King of Assyria, than his prayers and tears, and sighs. You may imagine Chrisantes, how many thanks and commendations the Princess gave him: Truth is, Mazares got so much into her esteem, that she loved him like a brother; and this Prince for a while, was so happy, that he neither thought of Artamenes, nor any thing which might vex him: But presently after, when the King of Assyria was informed of the return of Artamenes unto Themiscira; and of his arrival at Ecbatan with Ciaxares; also of all Military preparations against him; he than hasted the execution of those orders which he had formerly given: for since that morning we came unto Babylon, he had sent into Lydia, into Phrygia, Hyrcania, Arabia, Paphlagonia, and also unto one of the Indian Princes: The Prince of Saces also sent to entreat his father that he would hasten all those Levies which he was to send out of his country; yet we had but a confused notion of all these warlike preparations: For Mazares who would not speak a word of Artamenes unto Mandana, told her always that he knew no more but that he was returned from the Massagettes; and that there was warlike preparations in hand: The King of Assyria, in the mean while did often visit the Princess, and was sometimes all violence, sometimes all submission; sometimes looking upon her with a deep silent melancholy; and sometimes speaking with extreme anger, not daring to fix his eyes upon hers: But truly I wondered a hundred times at the goodness of the Gods, that a Prince so imperious as this, and of so proud a disposition, should ever observe and keep within limits of respect: At first when we came to Babylon, all Ladies were permitted to see the Princess, and she was so infinitely loved amongst them, that they were willing to do any thing to deliver her, were it not for their desires they had that she should be their Queen; and therefore every Lady of quality, in relation to her own satisfaction; was ready to do a good office for the King of Assyria; yet since this Prince was informed by his spies, that they came very often unto her, they were debarred of that Liberty, and the Princess was so strictly guarded, that none, unless Mazares, must see her; and the principal reason of it was, because the common people began to grumble, that all Assyria should be engaged in an unjust war: Thus did we live in most melancholy, and without any comfort, but the company of Mazares. The women which waited upon the Princess, told us, that there came every day a great number of strangers unto Babylon, and none knew what they were, for these women had more liberty than we, but not much: 'Tis very true, that we were in a very fine prison, (if any can be so) for certainly the King of Assyria's palace, is the most stately thing in the world: The Princess chamber was on that side which looks towards the great plain, along the River Euphrates, and has a prospect of above fifty furlongs from Babylon; and you know very well, how this prospect is full of variety and delightful, either in respect of the River, which there winds and turns itself very pleasantly, or in respect of many stately houses which are obvious to the eye, and which are environed round with palm trees: In that quarter was the Princess lodging, out of which a Balcone jetted out, in which she used to sit, when the weather was fair. I remember, that one night, she was sitting there very late; and as the King her father, and Artamenes took up much of her thoughts; Imagine Martesia (said she to me) how glad and sorry both I should be, if in the morning when I open this window, I should spy a Medean, and a Cappadocian Army; really, said she, I think that I should not be able to contain myself; delight to see relief, and fear lest it should prove in vain for me, and fatal to them who bring it, would so disturb my soul, that I should never have strength, or constancy enough to live out the event: But alas, Martesia, I am not likely to be either glad or sad, upon such an occasion: solitude and silence, that reigns in all this vast plain, which we dimly discover through the obscurity of the night, does tell me that my defenders are not there; and we see nothing by the gloomy light of Stars and Moon, but only trees and this great River: It was then two days since we saw the Prince Mazares, and he being the greatest part of our conversation, the Princess was very sorry that she did not see her protector, for so she often called him: But after the Princess had sufficiently entertained her contemplations, she retired into a chamber which joined unto that where we were, and where commonly she passed away the day. The next morning, as soon as she was dressed, one came to tell her that the King of Assyria desired admittance; and as soon as he was entered, Madam, (said he to her, after he had saluted her with all due reverence) will you be pleased to do me the favour, as to go in that chamber, where commonly you use to be? Sir, (said she to him, making signs unto Arianta and me to follow her) Captives must not choose the places of their prison, and in saying so she followed him, who presented her his hand, and we also followed them. When we were come into that chamber, the King of Assyria, went unto the Balcone, and drawing a great Curtain which ran upon hoops of gold, to open and shut as one pleased, we discovered all that great plain, which the night before we saw so solitary, full of Soldiers in arms; and as they were drawn up into multitudes of Squadrons, Battalia's, and Ensigns, they seemed to be four hundredthousand men: You may imagine, wise Chrisantes, what effect such a terrible object did work in the heart of Mandana; and at the first she did imagine it to be the Army of Ciaxares, but she continued not in that delighting error; for the King of Assyria turning towards her; you see Madam (said he to her) that my design to Conquer and deserve you, is not judged by the Gods so criminal as you think, since they thus prosper it; and since so many Kings and Princes as there is in this Army do take my part, and since two hundred thousand men are ready to expose their lives for the love of me. The Princess, seeing her hopes deceived, did cast her eyes upon the Army; and though by reason of the remoteness she could not discern the Ensigns, yet it seemed they were not Medeans: Then hastily turning aside, as not enduring so terrible an object; oh Sir, (cried she out) what do you let me see? what kind of punishment have you invented wherewith to torment me? would you have me all at once resent the wounds, your Soldiers shall give unto those of my party? would you have me apprehend my misfortunes before they fall upon me? what would you have unhappy Mandana do? I would have you know (answered he) that upon your will depends the destiny of all Asia: Thus many men, thus many Provinces, and thus many Kingdoms, have you brought hither, in my behalf. I know Madam (added he) that the King your Father, assisted by the King of Persia, has brought his Troops into the field, and that he is upon the banks of the River Gindes, to come to you; and therefore, Madam, I put myself into a posture of defence, and try if this last remedy will mollify your heart: Consider, if you please Madam, that the Kings of Lydia, Phrygia, Arabia, Hyrcania, and a hundred other most valiant Princes who are in my Army, do not acknowledge the King your Father, nor are they in love with you as I am, and therefore will not spare you as doubtless I shall do: Consider seriously, I conjure you, that amongst two hundred thousand men, one of them may easily deprive you of that person who is so dear unto you: Oh cruel man (cried she) unto what a fearful punishment do you expose me? Ah pitiless Princess (answered he) whose hard heart, had rather all Asia should be in arms, that it should swim in blood, and be ruined, and that the King your Father should be engaged in a dangerous war, rather than accept the affection of a Prince who adores you, who lives not but for you, and who is ready to imply this same Army to Conquer more Crowns for you, if those he has does not satisfy your ambition: you see Madam, two hundred thousand men, ready to march, and ready to fight when occasion requires: yet although so many valiant Captains and Soldiers be all impatient to look their enemies in the face, and fight them, yet one favourable look from you is able to make all their Arms fall out of their hands: Yes Divine Princess, the Fate of people depends upon your eyes: Cast but one pleasant look upon me; pronounce but one advantageous word unto me; be but less cruel, and afford me but one spark of hope, and then all Asia shall rest in peace, and the King your Father in safety: Speak then I conjure you; or if you will not speak, let your eyes speak for you; say that you will hereafter love the King of Assyria; or promise once only, that you will love Artamenes no longer. Pronounce the doom Madam, Must I fight, or must I disarm: But consider well, before you give the fatal sentence. Sir (answered the Princess) The Gods are absolute Masters of all men, and Mandana ought not to usurp that Supreme authority over them: It is my part patiently to endure the misfortunes they shall send me, and not oppose their wills: If they were not resolved upon a war they would change my heart, and also the heart of my father to pardon you. So, I am not in a condition to dispose of my own will. It is enough I know from your mouth, that the King of Medes is in Arms against you; I may know thereby, that it is not permitted me, to afford you either a favourable look, or an advantageous syllable, or to give you the least glimpse of hope. Since he holds you for his enemy, I have a new cause to use you ill, nor must I pardon you, though I should be so weak as to wish it: And though Artamenes were not living, yet I should be the same I am unto you: Moreover, although your Army be very great, yet will I hope, the Gods will be favourable unto the justness of my Cause, making all my father's enemies to fall before him, and giving him the Victory: Yet the Gods do know, if I could with the loss of my life, prevent the danger of my fathers, I should sacrifice it with incredible joy: Yes Sir, if you can suffer me to be that Victim, which will bring peace unto all Asia, I freely consent unto it, with all my heart: And if nothing will give you satisfaction, but the taking Mandana away from unfortunate Artamenes, I also consent unto it, so you will put her into her grave; and that it may be permitted her to pass out of the hands of the King of Assyria, into the hands of Death, which she would sooner choose. But in the Name of the God's Sir, be Generous: Do an Heroic act; surmount that passion which is in your heart: The conquest of Mandana, is not worth half the blood which will be spilt. Love does deceive you Sir, and that Beauty which thus charms you, is but a pleasing desusion: And although she were as fair as you fancy her, yet at the best, it would be but a treasure which time would certainly steal from any that enjoys it: Recollect yourself therefore Sir, and if there be any spark of reason in you, affect honour, and glory, and prefer it above Mandana; That is much more fair than she, and will treat you better: Then will you esteem Mandana more, and also she will you; nor will she then blame you for the injuries you have done her: Consider that such a Princess as she, is not worthy of so constant a love as yours; think how she hates you, treats you coarsely, and will never love you. In short, either by reason, or revenge, or out of generosity, restore Peace unto all Asia, and hate Mandana, who hates you. I would do so Madam, (said the King of Assyria) if I could, but alas, I cannot if I would; and I think, it is as impossible for me, not to love Mandana, as it is impossible for Mandana, not to love Artamenes. But Madam (added this Prince, in extreme anger) If you love the life of your father the King of Medea, be moved with my prayers, for know assuredly, that there is not a valiant man in all my Army, which has not a resolute design to encounter with him: Imagine that all the Arrows in the hands of all these soldiers which you see, are aimed at Artamenes; that all their spears are set against his heart, and that all Engines, all Stratagems, all offensive Arms, are employed particularly against him; and that, it rests only in your power to take so many enemies off him: Therefore cruel woman, if you love Artamenes, hate not me, but give me some slight sign of your good will, and repentance. No Sir, (answered the Princess) you do not yet know me; for if I would have changed my mind, it would have been when I heard the name of my Father pronounced; and that which I will not do for him, I will never do for Artamenes; Not but that (since you force me to tell it) I am infinite tender of that Prince, and shall preserve an immovable fidelity for him: and between a Father and a Lover, I will do what befits me, without any wavering what resolution to take. Then Madam (said he in a more sharp Tone) we must go fight, and you have appointed it so. The Princess, seeing that he was in earnest, and was going away much moved, that boldness which she retained in speaking unto him, did forsake her, and tears came in her eyes; she than threw herself at his feet, and fast holding him, (Oh Sir, said she unto him) what are you intending to do? To fight and vanquish if I can, said he unto her, and hastily lifting her up: But though you should vanquish the King my Father, yet you should never vanquish the heart of Mandana (replied she) but on the contrary, I here declare unto you, in the presence of the gods, who hear me, that if in this War, either the King my Father, or the Illustrious Artamenes do die in it, you shall expect nothing from Mandana, but her death: Fight Sir, as long as you will, you shall not enjoy the fruits of your victory: And since the prize for which you fight is in my dispose, you shall never obtain it: You may perhaps overcome the King my Father; and you may perhaps, cause Artamenes to be killed, after he once gave you your life: but you cannot hinder Mandana from dying: So that Sir, if you bring her into despair, she shall also do the like for you. Think with yourself once more, and consider it well; for indeed if you be vanquished, than you will be vanquished with abundance of shame, considering the injustice of the Action: and if you be Conqueror, you will find no other recompense for all your pains, but the Coffin of Mandana. The god's Madam, answered he, did not send you unto the earth, to take you away so soon; and I will hope that if I return Conqueror, you will then change your thoughts of me. If ever I see you Victorious (replied the Princess) and the noise of your Victory precede your return, my death shall precede the day of your Triumph. But Madam (replied this Prince) what would you have me do? Since things are at that pass I cannot live without you; and since I cannot suffer Artamenes to live, and you to love him, but not the King of Assyria; yet Madam, I see you had rather all Asia should perish, and you hope I shall perish in it: Yes, yes Madam, I read this secret joy in your heart, which mingles itself with your sorrows; but yet for all that, I still respect you, love you and adore you: Judge Madam, whether there be any comparison between the love of Artamenes and mine: For he sees, he is beloved of the fairest Princess upon earth, what wonder is it, that he should be faithful unto such a Princess who scorns all the Grandeur of the World for him? To know the difference betwixt his love and mine, seem Madam to scorn him, as you do me, and treat but him as you treat me; then, if after that, he shall love you as do, I shall confess he has more right unto your affection than I have. You know Madam, that I am Master in Babylon, and so can cause myself to be obeyed; Yet you have commanded absolutely here, and I let you have the liberty to scorn me, and all this because I am possessed with such a passion as has no parallel, which combats with all those violent desires which are in my heart, and which will not permit me to do any thing but adore you. Indeed Madam, I must be gone, and carry sword and fire to the Camp of my enemies: I must go and seek out Artamenes; you will have it so, and I will obey you; In the mean time, I know you will pray unto the gods for his Victory and my ruin; but I conjure you to change your heart. I have only thus much to say unto you Madam, That if when I am gone, the image of all those misfortunes which you cause, shall happily move you to repent of so unjust a Resolution, and would have the Wars to cease; It is but sending the meanest of your servants unto me, and write only this word, HOPE, and at that very instant when I shall receive that happy Ticket, though I were in the midst of Battle, and my hand lifted up to kill Artamenes, and although the Victory were almost sure unto me, yet I will promise you (Inexorable Princess) to sound a Retreat; to flee before my enemies, to come and throw myself at your feet, and look in your eyes, for a confirmation of that blessed syllable. Whilst this Prince was speaking thus, Mandana was so sunk in sorrows, that she hardly understood him what he said; and found herself so weak that she was glad to sit down upon the seat which was in the Balcone; so that the King of Assyria seeing she was inflexible, and would speak no more unto him, he left her, after he unperceivedly had kissed her Robe: When he was in another Chamber, he caused me to be called unto him, but I confess that I never in all my life saw a more desperate man: He spoke unto me a hundred things which I should repeat unto the Princess, and I answered him as well as I could, to reduce him unto Reason. And since the Princess menacing her own death, did much trouble his mind, Martesia, said he to me, you shall answer for the life of Mandana; speak no more in my behalf if you please, but be sure you look unto her preservation: afterwards he said the same unto Arianta, and all the rest of the women about her; also he spoke much more unto Mazares, whom he was to leave Governor in Babylon; and who had been busied in those Troops which his father had sent up to the Rendezvouz, and that was the reason we saw him not two days together. But Chrisantes, if I should relate all that the Princess said after the King of Assyria was departed, it would engage me unto a long discourse: she rose up, and would once again view this multitudinous Army: But alas what sad thoughts did it produce? Alas Martesia, (said she, after she had been a long while silent) can I ever consent that all these troops, should march against my father, and against Artamenes? must I expose the lives of two, who are so infinitely dear unto me, to a long and dangerous war? Can I who ever had an Antipathy to war, consent, that so many thousands of men, so many Princes, so many Kings, should be killed for the love of me? must so many innocent souls suffer for my sake? Ah no, no, Martesia, I am infinitely wronged; and there was some passages in the King of Assyrias discourse, at which I doubt whether I had my reason about me or no: yet I do confess that neither my heart nor my tongue had so much power as to afford him one advantageous word: I know not whether it be an effect of hatred unto him as the Ravisher of Mandana, or an effect of love unto Artamenes: But perhaps, I have not said enough to qualify him; yet what should I do? said she upon a sudden, doubtless I have lost my reason; my heart and my tongue have been more Just, than my conceit; for the truth is, neither peace nor war are in my dispose; though I should expel that hatred, which I have of that Prince who has so injuriously taken me away: though I should think no more upon Artamenes, and though I should resolve to be so wicked as to submit unto the King of Assyria, yet all these base courses would not advantage me, since the King my father would not give over the war; and since the Illustrious Artamenes would become more bloody and furious, for culpable Mandana, than he would be for Innocent Mandana. Moreover, do I not know very well, that ever since the famous Dejoca who set Medea at liberty, and delivered them from the tyranny of the Assyrians, there has been an irreconciliable hatred between those two people? & were it Just that a Princess descended from the illustrious blood of the restorer of her country should bring it again into servitude? no Martesia; for whether I do consider the King of Assyria, as the Ravisher of Mandana, or as an enemy unto the King of the Medes, or as the enemy of Artamenes or as the tyrant of my country; I have behaved myself towards him, as I ought to do. But Artamenes is in the same Army that my father is: he hath already saved his life, & may do so again, and considering the justness of their cause, it may be hoped, the gods will protect and preserve them both. But Chrisantes, all her contemplations of the Justness of her cause did not procure her so much rest, as the sight of this vast Army did disquiet her: Madam, said I, look no longer upon those troops which so much trouble you; or if you will needs view them, then look upon them as a subject of glory for the King your father and for Artamenes: Ah, alas my dear Martesia, (cried she) who can tell whether amongst all these I look upon, I do not see the murderer of my father, or of Artamenes? truly Chrisantes, I was forced to pull her away violently unto another Chamber: mean while, we were informed, that the Army would depart the next morning, and that the King of Assyria had intelligence how the Medean Army had passed the River Gindes, by a prodigious invention which you are not ignorant of since you were there; and how they had repulsed some Assyrian troops which were on this side the river: the King therefore departed in all haste, and caused the army to march: the Prince Mazares, moved with thoughts of honour, did much desire to accompany him: But the King of Assyria would trust the guard of Babylon and the keeping of the Princess unto none but him: so that he conjured him to stay behind: and I know not whether, thoughts of love (notwithstanding the great heart of this Prince) made him glad of it: It was the King of Assyrias mind that the troops which belonged unto Mazares should stay in Babylon; to the end, that if the people did murmur at the injustice of this war, in his absence, those foreign forces might keep them in obedience: but that which was most admirable, was this, that the King of Assyria, a little before he left Mazares, he drew him aside; and with an unquiet and much disordered mind spoke to him in these terms: you see my dear Mazares, that Artamenes is always very fortunate and invincible: he hath got over that River in eight days, which might have been well a years work: he hath done that which was only the work of a god, and if I be not mistaken, fortune has not thus friended him, to forsake him afterwards, not but that I know my army is thrice as strong as the King of Medes, for, for all that I may be overcome, and also killed in the fight: know, that by reason of my unexpressible passion for the Princess Mandana, I am terribly tormented with this cruel thought, that if I die, then will Artamenes quietly enjoy the affection of Mandana: promise me therefore, I conjure you, that if I die, you will fight with Artamenes, and never deliver up the Princess unto the King her father until that too happy Rival be dead also: promise me this I entreat you, and seal it with an oath: for after that, I shall be at some rest; and be less tormented with that envious Jealousy which persecutes me: and I confess unto you, that if I thought any one should enjoy Mandana, I should die desperate: But considering the extreme affection she has unto Artamenes, I shall hope that if you kill him, she will never love any other nor ever marry. This Mazares, is the service I expect from you, and which doubtless you will not refuse me, though it be something difficult, it must be acknowledged that you cannot kill Artamenes, but it will be a great glory unto you; and you will that way find a recompense, in doing this office for me. I leave you to Judge whether Mazares was not much surprised at such discourse, and you may easily think, that without any denial he promised the King his desire, it being most certain, that since reports went in Babylon, Artamenes was drawing towards it, his passion grew more violent. So Chrisantes, the King of Assyria went away much satisfied with what Mazares promised, which was, to fight with Artamenes, in case he died. Now were we under the dispose of Mazares, who doubled his civilities and goodness to us; and in the tormenting fears in which we continually were, to hear some ill news, it might be said our captivity was not rigorous, yet it was very much notwithstanding that. The Prince Mazares, never came into the Princess chamber, but she trembled, and looked for some ill tidings from the army. As for him; he was more and more amorous, and I think he had need of all his generosity, to wish the King of Assyria victory. I remember, one day, that when he saw the Princess much troubled, and that according to his custom he was very melancholy, Mandana, thinking compassion of her misfortunes, was only the cause of it, Sir (said she unto him) I am not a little beholding unto you, since being what you are unto the King of Assyria, you are so good as to interest yourself in any thing which concerns me: Indeed Madam, answered he, you have wrought a strange alteration in my heart: I confess notwithstanding, that I cannot wish the King of Assyria were vanquished, yet I have much ado to wish him victory; and all this Madam out of my love to you; and I hope you will not condemn me for it; no said she but on the contrary, I much commend you, and think you more innocent for truly, not to be prejudicated in the business of a Prince whom you love, and to favour the interest of an unfortunate Princess whom you scarcely know, is truly generous: Ah Madam, replied Mazares, do not say I beseech you, that I do not know Mandana: for I know her so perfectly well, that none upon earth knows her betters; and therefore I do in some sort betray the King of Assyria: also I do know (added he) her own misfortunes better than she herself does: I doubt it not, (replied the Princess) for since you know him who is the cause of them better than I do, you may also better see those dangerous consequences which that cause may produce. Thus Chrisantes did Mazares, sometimes speak such things as might move some suspicion of his secret thoughts, and thus did the ingenuity of the Princess cause her to expound them without any subtlety: In the mean time, we were always upon extreme incertainties: the least noise troubled us: I never came into Mandanas' chamber, but she looked in my face to see if she found any ill news in it; and she often thought, that she found signs of victory to the King of Assyria in it, and the death of her father and Artamenes. But presently after, as we stood in that Balcone, which I named before, we discovered a great thick dust, arise from the earth in that great plain a great way off: and presently after, we discerned a great body of horse appeared: this tied, and the Princess fears, made her look pale: But after we had well considered them; me thought they came too fast, and in too great disorder, towards Babylon to bring victory with them: Madam, (said I unto the Princess) certainly we have had the better on it; it is easy to be seen; for besides that they are no great number, they come in such hasty confusion, as conquerors would never do. But Martesia, (said the Princess to me, always fearing the worst) how know you, whether or no these be prisoners of war, which they send away; and whether the King my father, or Artamenes, be not amongst these I see? But Chrisantes presently after, our doubts were all cleared: for a little after these troops were come into the Town, we heard a great noise upon the stairs 〈…〉 and after that; we saw the door of our Chamber opened, and the King of Assyria enter: with his Arms all broken, and stained with blood in divers places: his scarf all to●n and bloody ●his plume all ruffled, broken and bloody likewise, for he had a slight wound in his shoulder: There were such signs of sorrow in his eyes, and so many marks of fury in his face: that the Princess was out of all fears of her father or Artamenes. As soon as this desperate Prince was come into the Chamber; your prayers Madam are heard. Artamenes has got the better of us; and I hoped once in my life not to displease you, in seeing at your feet him whom fortune has conquered: It is none of my fault Sir, (replied the Princess) that this misfortune is fallen unto you; and if you would have suffered my prayers to have overcome you, Artamenes never should have vanquished you; and the victory which you would have obtained over yourself, had been more glory to you, then that, which Artamenes has, is honourable unto him. Madam, (replied the King of Assyria) can Mandana whom I have often seen so sweet and compassionate over the meanest subjects of the King her father, hear with dry eyes, and calm soul, that for the love of her, there is a field full of dead and dying men; Chariots overthrown; Arms broken; Kings lost their lives: Princes wounded or prisoners: an infinite number of soldiers wallowing in their own blood; & that near four hundred thousand men have fought for you, can I say, this obdurate Princess, see me wounded, and vanquished at her feet, without one thought of compassion? me, I say, who have quite lost all my fury as soon as I saw her; who as soon as I look upon her has no sorrows for my defeat; and who should esteem myself very happy to suffer all these disgraces if it were permitted me to hope, that she would once pity my misfortunes. Yes cruel Princess, though I be vanquished, wounded, and misfortunat, yet you can if you please, make me the happiest of men: but I beseech you, do not insult over a miserable man; and consider, that Artamenes is not yet got into Babylon: and Madam to temper your Joy a little, give me leave to tell you, that it is not so easy a thing to enter it, as it is to vanquish in the field: Battles do more particularly depend upon fortune than fieges, and therefore I can answer more absolutely for the event of the one then of the other: and Babylon shall all be butchered, & also I will bury myself in its ruins, then suffer Artamenes to enjoy you: Sir (said the Princess, interrupting him without any passionate disorder) fear of death, does not tremble my soul, and you have so accustomed me to desire it, that it is not a threatening which affrights me, if you should tell me of perishing in flames: Ha Madam (said this Prince kneeling unto her) I beseech you pardon an unfortunat man, in whom you have not left the use of reason: I thought not of what I said, when I said so unto you: but yet, what would you have me do? I have often told you and do so again, that Artamenes shall never enjoy you as long as I live, nor shall Artamenes overcome me without some danger to himself, as brave and fortunate as he is. But Sir, (said the Princess unto him) Is it possible you should be so blind, as not to see the gods are against you? But Inhuman Princess, (replied he) Is it possible you should not consider that you are the cause of this war, and are the most cruel woman in the world? which way can your heart be moved? when I last spoke unto you, I said in myself to excuse you, that great souls are never flexible with arms in their hands; and you speaking almost in the head of two hundred thousand men, said that there would be found some way to resist me: But now, I come unto you vanquished, wounded, and miserable; (confess the truth) is it not something Inhuman, Barbarous, and Cruel, not to look upon me with some compassion at the least? the gods do know Sir, (replied the Princess) that I am no lover of war, and that I am a wisher of peace unto all Asia: But for all that I can contribute nothing towards it but my prayers, my will depends upon my fathers; and my affection is a thing I cannot take away again after I have given it: Oh Madam, (said the King of Assyria; interrupting her) speak no more in the name of the gods, drive me not into absolute despair: for I confess, I am afraid my reason has forsaken me, and that those respects which I would have unto you until death, will (whether I will or no) so sake me also: speak not at all, when you can speak nothing but what is insufferable: yet (said he in going away) since my blood mingled with my tears will not move you, and since the vanquished King of Assyria, is no pleasing object unto you, I will leave you to rejoice at the victory of Artaments, in saying so, he went out of the Princess chamber; and after he had taken all necessary order for those troops, which escaped the Rout; and for the preservation of the town; he went to bed: for though the wound he received was not very considerable, yet he having lost much blood, it had a little weakened him: though he was dressed at a little town about twelve surlongs from Babylon: you may imagine Sir, what variety of thoughts the Princess had: and how impatient she was to know all passges, but it was not possible for us to be better satisfied: we understood that the King of Assyria, after he was vanquished, apprehending there might arise some sedition within Babylon, came in all haste, that he might be in the town, before the reports of his defeat: yet what questions soever we asked, we could receive but confusedly the particulars of the Battle: yet they kept us up more close than before, and changed chambers, with intention doubtless to deprive us of that consolution, in seeing the victorious army of the King her father: I will relate unto you no more of the King of Assyria's despair, and how irresolute he was in coming to Babylon, whether he should see the Princess or no: The shame of his defeat denied it, but his extreme desire to see her constrained it; also he thought that happily he might move her to pity his misfortune: since he was not much wounded, he left his bed the next day, and began to prepare for a Siege, and to take all requisite orders to hold it out. He imagined that since the time of lying in the field was almost at an end, the King of Medes could not take Babylon in one winter, but would be compelled to raise his Siege, and defer it until the spring; during which time he would use all the ways he could to move the mind of Mandana, either by fair means or foul; and also would in the mean time prepare himself for a new battle. For our parts, Chrisantes, we did not fully relish our joys; for we saw Mazares so sad, as caused us to apprehend he had discovered some ill intentions in the mind of the King; also it was easy for us to conceive that the Siege of Babylon could not be without much danger; yet this happy beginning gave us good heart; and so much joy as drove a great part of our fears out of our souls. The Gods (said the Princess) are too just and good to forsake us; and I have greater confidence in their justice, then in the arms of the King my Father, or the valour of Artamenes. Mean while, we treated Mazares much more civil than ordinary; for since we feared nothing so much as the violent humour of the King of Assyria, Mazares was the only hopes we had, to preserve us from him; but we did not know all the interest he hoped for in the Princess. In conclusion, as you know better than I; the Siege of Babylon began, and both sides did as much as men of great hearts could do, both in assaulting, and defending: It was now, wise Chrisantes, that our fears were without intermission; for we know there was not a day in which the Besiegers did not make an assault, and in which the Besieged did not make a Sally; so that our whole life was but a continued fear: Our fears were not only for the King, and for Artamenes, and Mazares, whom we understood commanded the parties which Sallied very often; but I remember the Princess one day, could not choose but complain herself unto him; Generous Prince (said she, when she was informed he had been fight) I look upon you as the only protector which I have in Bubylon; as one who is infinitely dear unto me, and as one who is infinitely serviceable unto the King of Assyria, and as one whose virtue is a great consolation unto me; yet I do know that as soon as you are out of the walls of Babylon, you do become one of my most dangerous enemies; since you are one of the most valiant amongst them; and that the illustrious Mazares, whom Mandana calls her dear protector, does endeavour to kill not only that man whom she respects as her deliverer, but also the King her Father: Indeed (said she unto him) you are very cruel to take away from me the liberty of praying for you, for indeed all that I can do upon this occasion, is, to wish that you be neither conqueror nor conquered by those whom you assault, and who are assaulted by you: you are all goodness, (replied Mazares sighing) to say so unto me Madam; but yet honour, Madam, will not permit me to be continually mewed up within walls, whilst so many brave men arefighting: when I leave you in Babylon, I do confess it is with much regret; And it is extremely against my mind, that I should quit the glorious title of your protector, to assume that of your enemy, but yet reason will have it so, and there is no way to help it; for besides that honour which I told you of, and besides other reasons which I have, what would the King of Assyria think if I should do otherwise? I should become suspected, and perhaps be deprived of the honour and liberty to see you; Therefore, Madam, if I be culpable in any thing, it is not in this; yet notwithstanding, I do confess, that I am infinitely to be blamed, and the condition I am in is extremely unfortunate. Alas, said the Princess, I am very sorry to be any cause of your disquiets, and if could find out any way, to let Artamenes know how much I am obliged unto you; I am certain he would not fight against you, if he did but know you: But rather he would fight against those of his own side, if they should assault you in his presence: I question not Madam, (replied Mazares blushing) but if Artaments did know me by your report, he would esteem me, but if he did know me by my own addresses, he would not perhaps use me so: you are very modest (said the Princess to him, who did not suspect any hidden sense in his (words) & you make me wonder; but however, said she, I beseech you remember two things when you go to fight: The one is, that there are in the Army which Besiegeth Babylon, two Princes whose lives are infinitely dear unto me; and the other is that in you only is all the consolation and support that I have in Babylon against the King of Assyria: As Mazares was making answer, one came to tell him that the King enquired for him, and certainly it was advantageous for him to be so interrupted, for doubtless he was much nonplussed to give a direct answer unto the Princess without contradicting his own thoughts, which were not very quiet, since I verily believe, that never was soul more passionate than the soul of Mazares, nor any more virtuous, although the violence of love induced the Prince unto some things that were not over just. Mean while, winter, contrary to the common custom of that Country, did draw fast on us, and the weather was very sharp, which did as much rejoice the King of Assyria, as it grieved us, out of our fears that the King of Medes and Artamenes would be compelled to raise their Siege. We had then no other recourse, but unto our prayers; and the Princess, by the mediation of the Prince Mazares, obtained permission, to go unto the Temple of Jupiter Belus every day; which Temple is the most most stately and famous Church in all Babylon: as well because that this god is the protector of the Assyrians, and him whom they pray unto at the beginning of Battles; as also because of the Oracles which are there given by the mouth of a woman, whom Jupiter Belus made choice of to declare his will unto them who would know it: And since, I think, if my memory deceive me not, that you have heretofore told me, how you never was at the place of those Oracles all the while you stayed at Babylon; and since there is no likelihood, that you should see it since, considering the tumult and confusion in which you put the Town, at the taking of it; It is therefore requisite, that I represent it unto you in a few words; after one is entered into the stately court of the Temple, and passed through those most magnificent gates of Braffe which opens into it; one shall find the door of that prodigious Tower, which supports seven others above it, unto the top of which one ascends by winding stairs, supported by pillars of Copper: In the midst of every pair of stairs, there are seats to rest upon, and when one is come unto the highest Turret of all, one shall find a little, but most magnificent Temple, wherein is to be seen a great Statue of Jupiter Belus, made of massy Gold, a Table of Gold also, and a Throne of the same metal, and many both great and rich vessels; there is also a most stately Altar; upon which the Chaldeans who first constituted Ceremonies of Religion in Babylon, did every year at the grand Sacrifice, burn above a hundred Talents of Incense. As one goes out of that, they enter into another, but less, in which was a Couch all covered over with gold, and a Table of the same metal, with a great Lamp of gold also upon it, which was always burning. This place was not open on any side but the door, which being shut, there was no light at all; It was in this place, where that woman whereof I spoke, did reside in the day time, and on that Couch sleeps in the nights, after the example of one who is reported to be in Egypt at Thebes, and another at Patares a Town in Licia,: Here I say does the Prophetess live, separated from all the rest of the world, and delivers Oracles unto those who come, and consult with her. After this, Chrisantes, I shall tell you, how being moved unto it either out of devotion, or by a kind of curiosity, when we were one day in the Temple of Jupiter Belus, to wit, in the great Temple below, where every one does ordinarily walk, the Princess had a great mind to go into the top of the highest Tower, and to visit this famous woman of Babylon, and to desire her assistance unto the Gods, without any design of consulting with the Oracle at all: How, Chrisantes, may the chance of things be admired; Mazares, who was then in the Temple, presented his hand unto the Princess, to lead her up those stairs which were very steep; but both he and we were much amazed, when we came to the top of this high Tower, and found the King of Assyria, without any with him but the Captain of his Guard, who was come thither to consult with this woman; certainly, if the Princess had known of his being there, she would not have come thither that day: since be was but only entered into the little Temple, and had not yet spoke with the Prophetess, he thought this accident fell out happily for him, and intended to inform himself what he was to expect, as the event of his passion; but before he spoke unto the Prophetess, he addressed himself unto the Princess, and told her very civilly; Madam, said he, doubtless you are come hither to solicit the gods against the King of Assyria: But before the prayers of one so virtuous as yourself have incensed the god of this place who is here adored; I beseech you permit him to consult, and in your presence to inquire the intention of the Deity: The Princess, who though she could expect nothing from heaven which was not advantageous for her, considering the innocency of her life, and purity of her thoughts, told him that she was glad to see such signs of piety in him, and consented unto what he desired: we entered then into that little place destined for Oracles, where the woman who was very fair, and in very magnificent habit, asked him, as she would have done the meanest of his subjects, and with no more respect, what he would know? I would have you (said he to her very submissively) supplicated that god who reveals the secrets of men unto you, that he would be pleased to tell me by your mouth, whether the Princess Mandana will be eternally inhuman, and whether ever those torments which I endure will have an end? At these words this woman opened a great gate of Gold, which was close by her Couch, and kneeling down upon a Cushion, she was a long time, holding up her head unto the mouth of a little obscure Vault, which that golden grate did shut up, and which was hewed out of the thickness of the wall: afterwards, being wrapped, and possessed with a divine spirit which transported her, she unfolded the tresses of her hair, which spread about her shoulders; then rising up and turning towards the King of Assyria, with a face quite altered, her eyes sparkling more than before, her complexion ruddy, and her voice more clear, she distinctly pronounced these words.  

The ORACLE.  
Well mayest thou hope, to make her mourn  
For all her cruelty and scorn,  
Because hereafter in her arms,  
Thou there shalt find such pleasing charms,  
As quite shall terminate thy pain,  
And turn thy sorrows into gain.   
I leave you to imagine Chrisantes, how much was the joy of the King of Assyria, and how great was the grief of Mandana: how deep was the despair of Mazares, though he durst not show it, and what a wonder it was unto me; the truth is, I cannot express it: for we did almost certainly know there could be no cheat in this Oracle, since the King could not know that the Princess would come thither; and certainly the woman was of a very great reputation, and extraordinary sanctity, so that we could not suspect the least trick in it; also it was by reason of this good repute that the Princess desired to see her: but oh heavens, how many tears did this curiosity cost her! she went presently out of the Temple, and spoke not a word unto this woman as she did intend, and went unto the Palace extremely melancholy: The King of Assyria went thither with her; and he was no sooner in her chamber, but looking upon her with many signs of satisfaction in his countenance; Well Madam, said he to her, will you contend with the gods? The gods, answered she, are not unjust, and that's all my hope: They are not unjust I confess (replied he) but withal you must acknowledge with me that they can be no liars: I know it well (replied she) but I know also that they are incomprehensible; and it is presumptuous rashness in men, to think they can perfectly understand their language. They do explain themselves so clearly (replied he) that I can doubt no longer of my good fortune: They explain themselves so unjustly in appearance (answered she) that I cannot believe they are well understood; But Sir (added the Princess, who desired to be alone and at liberty to bewail this new misfortune) if it be the pleasure of the gods to make an alteration in my soul, leave all the care of it unto them, and meddle you no more with it; they have power enough to do it themselves, if they please to have it so; and I pray you leave me a little quietness; cruel woman (said he in leaving her) do you resist both heaven and earth? but however it is my part to obey you; as he went out, Mazares, who left us in the Temple came in; but so sad, that I wonder we did not suspect the true cause of it, yet we had not the least thought of it: but he disguised his melancholy, under pretence of that which he discovered in the Princess, which was not a little: you are very generous Mazares, said she to him, not to participate of the King of Assyria's joy, or at least to hide it from me at this time; I protest Madam, answered he, you have no cause to thank me, for being more sensible of your sorrow then the King of Assyria's joy, since, to tell you truly, my heart does it without any consultation with my reason, & since I do nothing but what I cannot choose. Indeed Orsanes told me afterwards that he was no less troubled at the Oracle than the Princess was; and this conversation at this time was not very regular, for sometimes Mandana would be reserved, and sometimes Mazares would silently entertain his thoughts; and Orsanes has told me, that when he did secretly call to mind the present condition of his Fortune, he could not deplore it enough: Alas, said he to himself, what can I hope for? if Mandana speak, it is after such a manner as makes me believe that Artamenes is the only happy man she loves: and if I harken unto the Oracle, than the King of Assyria must have his hopes satisfied, and Artamenes must be as unfortunate as Mazares: But whilst this Prince was thus ruminating, the Princess coming suddenly out of her musing; how can I think, said she, that my heart should change its resentments; and how can Mandana, ever resolve to make up the felicity of that Prince, who is the cause of all her misfortunes? which way can I ever comprehend it? If ever this Prodigy come to pass, the King my father must first die; Artamenes must not be upon earth, and I must lose my Reason; for without these I cannot comprehend how Mandana can ever be Queen of Assyria, as she must be, if the Oracle be interpreted after the King of Assyrias exposition. I shall never make an end Chrisantes, if I should repeat all the discourse between the Princess, Mazares, and myself. The next morning, the King caused a Magnificent Sacrifice to be offered, to thank the Gods for the Oracle he had received. But here, I beseech you, admire the destiny of things; That same thing, for which the King did thank the gods, the same did incense the people; who began to grumble, and say it was fitter to offer a Sacrifice to appease the Gods, then to thank them: That the war was unjust, that the Princess Mandana was wronged; that the Babylonians ought to restore her unto the King her father: Thus when they began to descant upon the actions of their Prince, they fell to murmur, and from murmur it grew to insolence; and from insolence to sedition, and at the last an absolute Revolt. Mean while Winter came fast on, and all was covered with snow: but all this did not make the besiegers give over their design, and continued it so close, that notwithstanding the vast greatness of the Town, there entered no victuals into it: Yet notwithstanding, the Oracle kept up the heart of the King of Assyria; but for all that he was necessitated a few days after; for the famine beginning to increase, and pinch the people, they began to cast off their obedience unto their King; and in one night, this great Town had more enemies in Arms within the walls, then without; although the King of Medes Army, as you know, was become vastly great, since the defeat of the King of Assyria, because many Princes did then quit him, and joined themselves with Ciaxares. Never was greater confusion than this of Babylon. Some took up Arms, to force the King of Assyria to restore the Princess unto the King of Medes: Others were in Arms to keep her, and by her to make an advantageous Peace: Some there were, who being not only deprived of all reason, but humanity, did speak of sacrificing her; Others, on the contrary, maintained that she deserved to have Altars erected unto her virtue and constancy: Some would now get, to maintain themselves from those who had too much: And others, without any other pretence, maintained they were in Arms to shake off the yoke of Royalty, and make themselves free, since fortune afforded them such a favourable opportunity: And indeed, they all talked so insolently, and high, as I am verily persuaded, that they did contribute as much to the taking of the Town by their Revolt, as all the strength of Ciaxares his Army; or to say better, I think the gods intending to protect the Innocency of the Princess, and to punish their Rebellion, did make use of themselves for that purpose, and blinded them to their own destruction: And although it seemed, that the fury of the people was advantageous unto the Princess, considering the state of things: yet in lieu of rejoicing her, it did much grieve her; it being most certain, that nothing is more horrible, nor entrencheth so much upon the sovereign Authority of the Gods, as this rebellious Crime, which entrencheth upon the sovereign Authority of Kings, who are the Images of the gods. Yet, as the King of Assyria is a Prince of a great heart, and Mazares of no less to second him, so he hoped to appease this disorder, and resolved to take the only course by which popular insolency is reduced unto Reason, which is by example, and punishment of mutineers: But since the thing could not be done without some danger, because if the besiegers should make an assault upon the Town, at the time that the people were so much incensed, it was to be feared, they would yield up the Town; and the King of Assyria apprehended, that then he could not save the Princess, especially in the night, when the besiegers were most busy in giving Alarms, and when the people are aptest to attempt any thing, because they who are most forward in such tumultuous occasions, cannot be known in the dark. He consulted then with Mazares upon it, who told him, that it was Prudence in those who do not resolve to flee, yet to know how they may do it, if any necessity should press them unto it. It is good reason (said the King of Assyria unto him) for all Babylon and my Crown to boot are nothing to me in comparison of Mandana: And at this time, if I should lose Mandana, I should be in danger to lose my Sceptre as well as her, it being to be imagined, that the people will not then endure me, nor suffer me to carry away Mandana with my life: The main difficulty will be to find out a way to escape, and get out of Babylon if I should be put to it: for, as for a place of Retreat, it is easy to find one; for since Aribeus is in Pteria, and keeps half of Cappadocia, I cannot wish a safer Sanctuary, This Traitor was so cunning, as to make the people believe, that the Princess was not averse unto such an advantageous marriage; and that it was only the King her father whom she feared, and caused her to do as she did: But before he could go unto Pteria, he must get out of Babylon, and that was the great difficulty, there being dangers in it both without and within the Town. All this while, the soul of Mazares was in torment, and his mind much divided. As he was good and Generous, he could not without great difficulty contribute any thing unto the misfortune of the Princess: but as he was passionately in love with her, it was much more difficult for him to consent that ever she should come into the power of Artamenes: and for his own particular interest, he had rather she were in the hands of a hated Lover, than a beloved Lover: Not but that he was terrified at the Oracle, yet the aversion which the Princess had unto him did make him less esteem it: and he found much more danger in Artamenes then in him. Jealousy therefore being predominate in his heart, he applied himself mainly to the King of Assyria's desires, and that with success, though it was not easy to get out of Babylon unseen: But Chrisantes, I am persuaded, that there is nothing so difficult, which love and jealousy together cannot bring to pass. This Prince then, told the King of Assyria, that he would find out an expedient for it, and bade him, since he desired him to do his endeavours in it, to command the women which waited upon the Princess, to let her have no clothes but such as were white, according to the Assyrian fashion, which yet she had not worn, and also the like unto Arianta and myself: The King of Assyria urging him to explain himself and his reasons for it; Mazares told him, that the course would prove infallible; and indeed, made the King confess that it was ingenious; and presently gave orders for it, so that the next morning, Arianta and myself, much wondered when we found all our clothes taken from us, and white ones left in their room, such as women of Quality use to wear in Assyria. I asked the reason of it, and they told me, the King would have it so, because if it should chance the sedition increased, he might more easily put the Princess into the Temple, and for her better security to have them pass for Assyrians: Since Mandana was not yet awake, Arianta and I did dress ourselves in them, thinking indeed, that this way might conduce to her safety: But when she called her women, and went to dress herself, and when she saw they gave her white garments, after the Assyrian Mode, although they were very rich, yet she had such and extreme aversion to them, that I am verily persuaded the gods did foretell unto her, her misfortune: she would not by any means wear them, but when those which waited upon her, told her with tears in their eyes, that it was not in their power to give her any other, she did much against her mind, put them on, and sighing said, that the change of her habit, should never change her heart: I would make her understand the reasons which they gave for it, but she was not satisfied with them, nor any thing pleased with this new kind of compulsion. Mean while, the King of Assyria, and Mazares, being resolved to punish the people, were very diligent in giving out orders to that purpose. The King in person, with all the Grandees of the Court, was ready to teach the people the duty which they owed unto their Legitimate King: when a Spy which had been in the Army of Ciaxares, came unto him in a great amaze, and told him that within three or four hours within night, he should see the River Euphrates dry, and forty thousand men enter at both ends of the Town. At the first, the King of Assyria would not believe it, but the Spy did so directly name the place, where Artamenes caused two great Trenches to be digged, and turn the River into them, that he gave credit unto his words; and the example of the River Ginde, rendered this more probable: The Spy further told him, that if the snow had not hindered the pioneers, the design had been executed before now. But though he was very circumstantial in his relation, yet notwithstanding the King of Assyria with Mazares, went unto the top of the Tower of Jupiter Belus, the better to discover the Works of his Enemies, and when they were there, than the Spy showed him, though it was far off, the earth which the Enemy had thrown up, as well to shelter themselves from being seen, as to empty the Trenches which were to receive the River Euphrates. You may imagine, Wise Chrisantes, in what a condition this Prince was. He saw from that high Place a whole great Town in Arms against him: and he saw, that he was ready to be assaulted in such a manner, that though the people had seconded him, yet he should have much ado to repel his Enemies: for since the River Euphrates was very broad, he conceived the enemy would enter at both ends of the Town in complete Battalia; and that he had not time to raise up such works as would prevent them: But this was not the worst he feared; for he thought that as soon as the Enemy appeared, the people would endeavour to take away the Princess, and make their own conditions with Ciaxares, by rendering her unto him: And seeing himself driven to such a necessity, as that he must defend the Palace where she was, both against the people and the King of Medes, he concluded it to be a thing impossible. At the last, being out of any hopes to keep Babylon, and the Princess, and love prompting him unto some other course, he endeavoured to execute that design which he and Mazares had contrived: He went down from the Tower in all haste, and seemed as if he would appease the people by lenity, hoping thereby to gain time, whilst Mazares put all things in a readiness for the execution of their enterprise at the beginning of the night, if there were any need of it: The King of Assyria resolved not to depart, until the design of his Enemies was in executing; for he imagined that Artamenes would enter the Town at both ends of it, and that other places would therefore be less guarded; because those two places would take up most of their men. But upon a sudden, we heard a terrible noise, for the River being drained in a moment, and the besiegers entered, they caused a most horrible disorder, and confusion. I shall not need to relate any further of it unto you, since I do imagine you were there; but for my Part, I never in all my life heard such an astonishment as this caused in all the streets of Babylon; In the mean time we were in great fears; for although the Princess did imagine, that perhaps it was Artamenes, who would come and deliver her, yet the danger wherein she apprehended him, caused her fears: As for the King her father, she imagined that he would not venture himself in this attempt. As we were thus betwixt hope and fears, the King of Assyria came in to us; Mazares stayed in the garden of the Palace; with them who were appointed for our Guard: But the King entering furiously, Madam, (said he to the Princess, to the end she should make no resistance) the people of Babylon are in great disorder, and since they believe you to be the cause of the War, they would have you in their power, therefore I must put you into some place of better security than this. Sir (said she unto him) since I have put myself into the custody of the Gods, it is my duty to wait upon their pleasures, and submit unto what they shall ordain me; and you would do me a great favour, if you would leave me unto their protection; But when she saw four or five men in Arms enter, knowing she was not in a condition to resist, and not knowing that what the King of Assyria said, was untrue, she went with them, and Arianta and I followed her: she asked then, where Mazares was; and he answering her that she should see him presently, she went whither they conducted her. Then were we led into the Garden of the Palace, where Mazares did indeed stay for us: Mandana no sooner saw him, but letting the King of Assyria's hand go, she gave hers unto him, supposing now she had no cause to fear, since he was with her. Then they led us unto a back door, which almost joins unto the Gates of the Town, which the Troops of Mazares guarded, and who were acquainted with what was designed. When we were ready to go out of the Garden, which was of a huge bigness, we saw by the help of a candle, which was brought, that the King of Assyria, the Prince Mazares, and ten men who were to be of the Party, took every one of them a white Cassack, which covered them all over, and that they covered their heads also with white. This caused us to think, that the white Garments which they gave us, were designed for the same use: as those which these Princes, and those men's were, although we could not imagine unto what end. Afterwards they brought twelve white Horses; Saddles and Bridles were of the same colour: The King of Assyria got upon one of them, and would have the Princess to ride behind him, but she refused, and did choose Mazares, though with much reluctancy: yet the noise in the Town did so increase, though we were far enough from the place where it was assaulted, that her fear of falling into the hands of rude and insolent people, caused her at the last to let Mazares have the care of her safety: Two men of quality of those ten took up Arianta and me behind them: the candle being put out, and the door open, we went strait unto that gate of the town, which as I already told you was near it: then the King of Assyria and Mazares, commanded a Captain, in a low voice I mean a Captain which guarded that gate, to go and advertise, all the Princes and Soldiers, that they should fight it out no longer, since the town was already lost, and that as many as would might take the advantage of the dark night to save themselves, and take the benefit of this gate: we were not above twelve paces from the walls, but the King of Assyria who went a little before, did ride very softly, lest his horses feet should make to great a noise, more fearing the ears then the eyes of those we should meet: for Chrisantes, the ingenuity of this devise was, in that the Prince Mazares considering that all the fields were covered with snow, and because there was a great mist when we went out, it was impossible that Artamenes should make good his round, and therefore he thought it would be no hard matter to pass between two Courts of guard, and never be perceived, since white is not easily discovered in the snow, and in the night; especially since the moon did not shine: This invention of white horses, and white habits made us invisible, to those who met us, and they who we did meet not being in white as we were, were discovered a good distance off, so that we could shun them before they could see us: there was nothing therefore that the King of Assyria feared but the neighing of the horses and the horses feet: as for the first of these he put it unto fortune, but as for the noise of the horses feet, the snow was so soft that they could not be heard: the King of Assyria findding this, went a little faster and presently after we discovered the guard of Ciaxares his Army. To tell you Chrisantes, what the Princess thought, to see herself in this Equipage, and out of Babylon at that time of night, and on horseback amongst a company of men all in white going in such great silence, I should lengthen my story: at the first she was glad that she had escaped the fury of the rude multitude, so insolent as to mutiny against their Prince: and she thought that whithersoever they carried her, it would be incomparably, more easy for Artamenes to get her out of the King of Assyrias power, then in Babylon which she thought impregnable: therefore conceiving it to be most advantageous for Artamenes, and for her own liberty, she went with them without any resistance; and thinking of nothing, but a ready way how to advertise Artamenes, that she was out of Babylon: but she no sooner discovered afar off the guard which before I told you of, but she changed her mind, for when she saw herself so near relief, she was in a mind to cry out, but thinking that if she did so, she should cause Mazares to perish as well as the King of Assyria, therefore she was silent; but whilst she was consulting in her mind about it, the King of Assyria turned more upon his left hand, and fortunatly escaped this first danger. Yet notwithstanding, since she imagined that we should meet some other troops, she began to speak unto Mazares, who presently desired her to hold her peace, generous prince (said she unto him notwithstanding his desire, and speaking very low lest the King of Assyria should understand) if you have any real compassion upon me and my misfortunes, permit me, as soon as we shall meet any of the King my father's troops, to call them unto my relief, and I beseech you promise me that you will not oppose their endeavours to deliver me: and by that consequence, you will not hazard your own life which is very dear unto me: you may conceive I could have done it, without speaking unto you, but being so much obliged unto you as I am: I should think the gods would punish me if I should cause your death: Madam (said he unto her, lower than she spoke) the gods do know how much I wish you satisfaction: But Madam I only promised you to prevent the King, from attempting any thing against that reverence which is your due: And I promised that without any scruple, because I did him service also by it, in preventing him from committing a crime: And I do again promise you Madam, that as long as I live you shall not suffer the least violence from him: But Madam can I in honour betray him thus? to let him be killed, and commit you into the hands of his enemies? yet notwithstanding Madam, if you will do it you may, but I do protest unto you before the gods who hear me, that though I do escape from the fury of your soldiers, yet will I run my sword through my heart, to the end I may not be blamed and shamed by such an act which doubtless you have not considered before you did solicit me. Moreover Madam, since it is night, in striking at me they may chance hit you, and so your desires to recover your liberty may become your death: In the name of the gods therefore Madam, do not expose yourself unto a danger, whereof perhaps I cannot heal you: the Princess was so troubled, and Mazares spoke so movingly that she knew not what to resolve upon: sometimes she resolved to cry out: sometimes pity of Mazares restrained her. Afterwards taking up the resolation to call the first she saw, she found that she had not the power to do it, and that she determined upon a thing which was impossible for her, for my part, I know that it was not in my power to pronounce a word, and when I would have spoke, I trembled out of astonishment and fear: for we saw in the field, many Tents, Sentinels, Courts of guard, men which marched, and others which stood still; But the King of Assyria who was our guide, did sometimes turn to the right hand, and sometimes to the left; and very handsomely avoided all those, whom the whitness of the snow discovered unto him: But Chrisantes, to leave that place, which troubled us so much, give me leave to tell you, that after we had avoided the troops of Ciaxares above a hundred times, and were not above two furlongs from a wood, in which the King of Assyria feared no danger, because it was very thick and dark, and he was acquainted with all the turnings in it, having been often hunting in it. But the horse on which Mazares and the Princess did ride began violently to Neigh when we were within forty paces from a place, where a company of archers who were horsed, did then quarter, who having received orders to come nearer Babylon, did leave that place, and go thither in all haste: some of these Archers, being already horsed, and having heard this neighing, from that side where they were took the Alarm, and went towards the place where they heard the noise; but seeing nothing, they would have returned, had not one of their horses Neighed, in answer as it were unto the first, and caused them to advance further on; mean while the king of Assyria who conducted us, mended his Pace, and we went faster than before: so that sometimes we saw these men come straight towards us, and sometimes again go from us: for their parts I believe they much vexed to hear horses and could find none, but at the last being out of hopes to find us, because we changed our way sometimes on the one side, and sometimes on the other: they shot their arrows at random and leveled so unluckily, that one of their arrows did give Mazares a slight would in his shoulder, and another came so near Mandanas' head, that the extremity of her fears, made her to recover her voice, and to cry out, though she did not intend it: this cry, being heard by those who shot, they galloped directly to the place where they thought they heard it; But in the mean while the King of Assyria shifted places; and in lieu of going forward he went backward, and bade us ride faster. But since we were not above thirty paces from the wood, he caused those eight which carried no women to stand still, until such time as he imagined us to be in the wood, and then he and his men galloped away as fast as they could, and vanished out of the sight of them whom he fought with a while, who doubtless did think there was some enchantment in the place: At his return, we understood how they saw two of those who assaulted them to fall dead, and one of his troop received a slight hurt. As the wood was dark, and black, the very same whitness which made us invisible in the plains did help the King of Assyria to discover us again and to Join companies: In conclusion, Chrisantes, being come into this wood as I told you, the King of Assyria did lead us unto a little kind of habitation, where a sort of poor menlived, whose profession was to find out a kind of earth whereof the wonderful cement wherewith the walls of Babylon were built, is made; and when day begun to break, we lighted from horse, and passed away all the day in that Cabin, where our weariness afforded us more rest, than the accommodations of that place could. But Chrisantes not to spend more time, in relating things of little consequence, we went with much weariness the next night unto a little town which our army had not taken, nor as yet been on that side; neither was of strength to defend themselves if you had come unto it: the King of Assyria there got a Coach for the Princess, where Arianta and I found room also: and, both Princes went on horseback as our convoy. But without any further particularising the way we went, we came at the last into Cappadocia, and a little after, unto Pteria: at our first arrival the Princess was very much joyed to see it; yet, a while after she found herself much more unhappy than she thought for the thought of being then a captive in that place where she had been so long free and absolute, did extremely double her sorrow: moreover, the imagination she should so domineer over the King her father's subjects, was a great vexation to her: but the great torment of all was, that she was still in the King of Assyrias power, and that she knew no way to let Artamenes know where she was: mean while Mazares continued always very civil, obliging, and amorous, and the king of Assyria was still very coarsely treated. A few days after when the taking of Babylon was more certainly known, he consulted with Aribeus what was best to be done, but when he heard that Ciaxares his army was marching towards Cappadocia, they brought us hither by reason of the conveniency of the sea, which the King of Assyria thought would be a way to prevent the Princess from ever coming into the hands of Artamenes. Aribeus and he endeavoured all they could to get up fresh troops, making their Rendezvous at Pteria, to the end it might not be discovered we were at Sinope. But presently after, they had intelligence that your army came up so fast, that it was impossible for them to get any such considerable force together as could give a second battle, which did drive the King of Assyria into extreme despair: and spoke with much more violence than heretofore he used: yet whether he was submissive, or whether he was furious, all was one, for he could no way move Mandana, to give him one favourable word. Yet one day, he called Mazares unto him, and laid before him all his misfortunes: truly (said he unto him) I am brought to such a pass, that I have no other consolation to hope for in my life, but to make Artamenes as unfortunat as myself, although it be in a different manner: The oracle indeed does make me hope well, but Mandana drives me into utter despair, and fortune has so defeated all my designs, that I am reduced unto such extremities, as are above both my patience and my reason: that which I intent (pursued this desperate Prince) is to make sure of the galleys and ships within this port, so that as soon as I see the army of Ciaxares appear, and find that I am not able to oppose it, I can then embark with Aribeus and the Princess, and be sure to carry her out of the reach of Artamenes. But Sir, (answered Mazares much grieved) what course will you then take? I know not well, (replied the King of Assyria) but if all the Princes my allies do deny me sanctuary within their dominions, I will rather turn pirate, then yield up the Princess unto Artamenes: yes Mazares, I will rather perish a thousand times: And if I see that I am pursued at sea by Artamenes (which as yet he cannot do, having no ships for it) I will rather split my ship against a rock, then be taken and lose the Princess: moreover I must not be far off Mandana, but keep close with her and wait upon the event of the Oracle: As for you, said he, my dear Mazares, it is not just that I should engage you any deeper in my misfortunes; though you would, I would not suffer it. Therefore I wish you to go back unto the King your father, and endeavour to be more happy than I am. Mazares was now put to a shrewd dilemma, for he could not consent to leave the Princess alone with the King of Assyria; and yet he perceived by the King's manner of speaking unto him, that he would not suffer him to accompany him any longer; yet he pressed him to stay, but the more urgent he was in it, the more obstinate was the King: furthermore, he perceived, that if he departed, the Princess would be the most unfortunat woman in the world; so that both in respect of his pity, and in respect of his passion, he was infinitely to be lamented: at last being transported with such passions as was unknown unto himself, he came unto the Princess, and ingeniously discovered the King of Assyrias design: you may well imagine what sorrow and despair this news brought unto her, especially when he told that he would by no means permit him to stay any longer with him: Ah Mazares, said she unto him, I shall absolutely die if you forsake me, and there is no resolution so violent, which I shall not take, if I be left alone under the King of Assyrias protection: In the name of the gods, said she unto him, persuade him, and tell him, that he shall never obtain the least part of my affection; and by consequence, you will do him no ill office, if you can move him to hearken unto my prayers and tears, and if you can procure my liberty: In the name of the gods once more consider what a most lamentable destiny will it be for Mandana to wander upon the seas, with a Prince whom she hates, and shall more and more hate him; and who shall resolve to throw herself into the bottom of the sea, the first time that he shall speak of his unjust passion unto her: consider well Mazares what you have to do, and know that the gods will require at your hands, an account of my life, if you be the cause of my death: would you not have me live & acknowledge my great obligations unto you? would you have me die the most miserable woman upon earth: Oh Madam, (answered Mazares, with extreme melancholy) I wish the thoughts of my heart, and how much I would do for you were well known unto you: I do know (answered she) that you are the most obliging Prince upon the earth, and that nothing hinders you from satisfying my desires, but an ill grounded scruple of generosity: for indeed Mazares I am fully persuaded, that you do compassionate my misfortunes, and that you intent friendship unto me: But yet since you cannot save me, you will suffer me to perish, and all because you are afraid to do an unj●●st act. But know generous Prince, that it is no injustice to prevent another from committing a most horrible piece of injustice: In short Chrisantes, the Princess spoke so prevalently unto Mazares, that he desired two day's time to resolve with himself what to do; But oh heavens! Orsanes told me, that he verily believed that the turbulence of his thoughts during this time would have cost him his life: Sometimes he resolved to be faithful unto the King of Assyria in spite of his passion; sometimes he would not quench his love, but in favour of Mandana; afterwards not being able to resolve either upon the one or the other; he thought how he might benefit himself by the misfortunes of another: At the last (said he unto himself) I see Mandana does esteem, and is very friendly unto me; yet it is but a bare esteem, and a friendship only, though she must know that I love her: Moreover, there is a great difference between the terms on which the King, of Assyria stands, and those on which I am with her, for there is a natural antipathy between her and him; but she is very friendly unto me, & I am persuaded it is not far off a disposition to receive some impressions of love, as well as much tenderness and esteem; yet I know very well, that there is more likelihood that I shall be unhappy, than he has hopes of Mandana's love: But alas, from what other course can I find any more sweetness and satisfaction from her? If I continue faithful unto the King of Assyria, than he will put to Sea with the Princess, and if I leave her, I am certain she will hate me for being so inhuman, as to expose her unto so great a torment: I am certain I shall never see her again, and I am sure to endure an intolerable torment, in thinking she is with the King of Assyria, who still has great hopes of her. On the otherside, if I betray a Prince from whom I have the honour to be a kinsman, to whom I am 〈…〉 vassal, who has made choice of me to be his confident, and if I should put the Princess into the hands of Artamenes, should I not then be the most unhappy man alive? I should commit a crime, and such a one as would make me most unfortunate, there being nothing more insufferable, then to see the party loved, in the power of a Rival who is loved: Oh no, no, Mazares cannot make choice of either, since he sees a crime, and a misfortune on both sides. If he harken unto reason, it will tell him, that we ought not to betray those who trust us: If he give ear unto his passion, it will tell him quite contrary, that we must never forsake the party loved, and that all one can do to possess her, is just. Which way soever I carry the matter, I must either betray the King of Assyria, or the Princess, and betray myself also, since I wound my reputation in it; Therefore if I must needs commit a crime, let me commit that which is most advantageous to me, and which will keep me from dying desperate. In conclusion, Chrisantes, this amorous Prince, in spite of all his virtue, was so transported with the violence of his love, that he resolved not only to betray the King of Assyria, but to delude Mandana also: yet truly, I think, never any did more severely punish himself then Mazares did, by his perpetual remorse of soul; for I never in all my melancholy did equal his; yet since he was fully resolved what to do, he sought out means to assure himself of a Galley, and easily found one; because the King of Assyria intending to make use of all the Galleys and Ships in Sinope, he did put out those who formerly commanded them, and put in others which did more absolutely depend upon him: There was one of these Captains, who knowing certainly he should be put out as the rest were, who grumbled exceedingly at it; and unto him Mazares addressed himself, in whose soul he discovered such adisposition, as was fit for his design: Mazares then having made sure of this Galley, was certain he could carry away the Princess when he pleased; for his commands passed within the Castle, as well as the King of Assyria's; and since the Castle was so near the Haven, he had not above twenty paces to go before he was at the Galley which this Captain who was of the conspiracy commanded, for by fortune the Galley was on that side: But since he was an expert man, and used to war, he told Mazares, that the better to secure his design, and also to satisfy his revenge upon his companions, he would set fire in all the Galleys and Ships which remained in the Port, lest they should follow after, and that all these new Captains might not long enjoy their new conferred offices, or at least put them into such a condition as they should not be able to do any execution. Although Mazares did see it was well thought upon, and almost necessary for his design, yet it went against the hair of his disposition, not for fear of the Ships, in which few people would be lost, but lest it should fire the Town: notwithstanding the Captain said thus unto him; Sir, although Sinop● should be set on fire, yet it is a Rebellious Town, and deserves it: And as for the King of Assyria. who troubles you so much, the fire will be quenched before it can reach the Castle: Truth is, this Captain spoke so rationally, that Mazares consented unto him, and the Captain took upon him the execution of the enterprise. This Prince intending to gain the heart of Mandana, designed to carry her into Bythinia, where he was in hopes to find some place of security, and indeed he could not make a better choice; for he was kinsman unto Arsamones, and Arsamones was enemy unto the King of Assyria, by reason of the Princess Istrina, with whom he was in good favour all the while she was in Babylon: Moreover he made war against another lover of Mandana, who was the King of Pontus, and Artamenes having moved Ciaxares to lend some forces unto his enemy, therefore he thought that he could not make choice of a safer sanctuary. At that time there came into Sinope a famous Pirate, who was reported to be a man of quality and great courage, who being much weatherbeaten, put in there to repair his Ships; The King of Assyria received him very kindly, and told Mazares that he was even ravished with the happy meeting with him, because that by that time the Ships of this Pirate were ready to make sail, he would put to Sea with him, and be under his conduct, for he was a man whom none ever knew conquered; and knew all the Seas, better than any other man. Mazares, understanding the King of Assyria's design so well, did make more haste to execute his own; and went unto the Princess, Madam (said he to her, in a most melancholy manner) there is a predominate power, which I cannot resist, and which makes me resolve to betray the King of Assyria, and carry you out of his reach: He has a design to carry you away very shortly; therefore he must be presently prevented; I asked you sometime to resolve with myself, and my resolution is settled; therefore, if you please, there is a Galley ready to receive you the next night: Ah, Mazares, (said she unto him) is it possible it can be so soon? To tell you Chrisantes, all that Mandana said, by way of thanks for the compassion which he had on her misfortunes, would be a very difficult task, so much did she aggravate her acknowledgements unto him. Mazares received her thanks with so much confusion, & turbulence of mind, that she thought herself the more obliged, supposing that the betraying of the King of Assyria was the only cause of it. But Mazares (said she unto him) which way shall we go, to go safely unto some place where the King my father is? Madam (answared he) when we are out of the power of your enemy, we shall then think better upon that: It's true, (said she) and so presently left him: But night being come, and well on, the Prince Mazares, who had not only gained the good will of those who kept the Castle gates which was towards the Port, but also all the Soldiers in the Castle, went to fetch the Princess, who was much troubled, what to do with Arianta, in whom she did not confide; she thought therefore to carry her with her, because if she were left behind, she would make a great noise of the matter: We told her therefore that the King of Assyria, had sent Mazares unto the Princess to tell her, that she must take Ship, and because she should not suspect any thing, we seeming to be very sorry in yielding obedience to him; for we began to think that she kept intelligence with the King. I forgot to tell you, that Mandana, who would as well as she could make it known unto Mazares, that she had a care of his protection, had writ a Letter unto the King of Assyria: but whilst we were staying in the outer chamber, at that hour when Mazares told us we were to depart; the Princess bethought herself, how she had forgotten to leave the Letter upon the Table, and entreated him that he would take so much pains as to carry it thither, telling him, that if he would open it, he might there find what she had written unto the King concerning him, so that the Prince took it, and carried it unto the Princess chamber, where, as I advised him, he did read the letter; I will not relate the contents of it, for you will presently after imagine it. So Chrisantes, we got out of the Castle, and we took Ship, and were presently out of Sinope; immediately after, we saw the Port all on fire, and in a moment after that, all the Town also, which did extremely surprise and grieve the Princess; for her soul was so tender and full of pity, that she would never have consented unto it, if she had known of the project; but yet her joy to be out of the King of Assyria's power, did comfort her in those sorrows which proceeded only from compassion; and she termed Mazares her deliverer a hundred times over: Mean while, the Sea began to be high, and the Mariners told us there was like to be a storm, as presently after it began, and the wind which was so favourable for us, turned quite contrary, and whether we would or no, did blow us above twenty times towards the Port of Sinope: To tell you how the Princess was troubled at this accident, would make you sad, as we were; It will be sufficient to tell you, how she moved Mazares to promise her, that in case the Tempest was above the Pilots art, or the force of Oars, he would rather split the Galley against the Castle tower, then to land again in the Port of Sinope: at the last, day beginning to dawn, our fears were less, as well because the terrors of darkness vanished, as because at the Sun rising, the winds were calmer. The Princess being then upon the deck, discovered that there were Soldiers in Sinope, fight in the midst of the flames, at the foot of the tower: She no sooner saw it, but looking upon Mazares with extreme joy; Ah generous Prince (said she unto him) perhaps the tempest has been our friend, since if it had not been, I should not have seen what I do. See (said she unto him) look upon the Troops which are fight in Sinope; without all doubt it is the King my father his Army, and perhaps Artamenes is there also; if so, it is easy for him to become master of a burning Town, and to take the King of Assyria also: Therefore my dear deliverer, give command unto the Rowers that they make no such haste away; Let them send one in a little Boat to see whether it be as I say, or no: For if it be, there is no need of going any further, since we have relief so near. Mazares hearing the Princess say so, began to change colour; and looked a long while upon the Troops which she showed him, and he knew much better than she, that they were the Troops of Ciaxares; therefore without giving any answer unto the Princess, he gave command to Row away with all possible haste. Mandana being extremely surprised at this command, and believing that she did not well understand him, or that the Prince had mistake himself: My dear deliverer (said she unto him) do you know what you say, and did your hear me? Oh Madam, (said he unto her, and kneeled) bestow no more that name upon me, whereof I am unworthy; and suspend your judgement of me, I beseech you, until you know what I have done against myself, before I will attempt any thing against you: Do not call me either your deliverer or your ravisher, nor pronounce an unjust sentence against him who is the most passionate of all your adorers: How, (said the Princess, in a mighty maze) can Mazares not be generous, is it possible he should deceive me? Is not then Mandana at liberty? Mazares, (replied the Prince, with unequalled sorrow) was born generous, and has lived so, until love of Mandana did force his heart to degenerate: But Madam (pursued he) you shall be free; and I do protest unto you in the presence of the gods, whom I have incensed, that you shall never have any cause to complain of my violence; I will only carry you unto a place, Madam, where I may perfectly make known unto you, the most respective passion that ever was; you have testified some signs of friendship towards me, and I beseech you do not presently pass from friendship unto hatred; give me a few day's time to acquaint you with my thoughts of Mandana. No Mazares (sad she unto him) I cannot consent unto your desire: you are now either the absolute master of my hatred or of my friendship: and if you do not immediately repent of your crime, I shall hate you a thousand times more than ever I hated the King of Assyria, and shall esteem you incomparably more culpable, but also (interrupted the Prince) more amorous: No, no, (said she unto him) deceive not yourself in that; I shall never term an unjust passion, love, but will phrase it frenzy, fury, or that which is worse. Why Mazares, (said she all in tears) will you lose my esteem and friendship? you whom I respected as my protector in Babylon, as my deliverer in Sinope: I perceive you had rather be my ravisher and my enemy, and see me die in sorrow, then live a happy life? Do you not see, (said she, in observing how the Seas began to be a little more boisterous) how you do incense the gods, and that if you do not appease them by a speedy repentance, they will with shipwreck punish your crime? Ah Madam, (cried out this unfortunate Prince) so they will be pleased to save you from the shipwreck, how happy should I be, if I perished in it? and how happy should I have been, if I had died in Babylon whilst I was innocent? But Madam, what would you have me do? how could I every day look upon Mandana, and find her so sweet, so civil, so pleasing, and so fair, and yet not love her? some who never saw you but angry at them, yet could not choose but love you; and since I found you so infinitely obliging, was it possible but I should be possessed with most violent passion? No, no, it was absolutely impossible: When the Princess saw that Mazares continued in his resolution, she began to be so desperately incensed, as I never saw her in my life: Alas (said she) into what a pitiful condition am I brought? and what unhappy consequences does this little beauty which the gods have bestowed upon me produce, since it infuseth into those who have any affection unto me, only unjust thoughts? But let me take courage (said she when she saw the Sea more boisterous than ever) I shall presently find an end of all my misfortunes in ending my life; and shall have so much comfort as to perish with one of my enemies: When Mazares, saw the Princess so very angry, and in so great a danger, and also that he had committed an unprofitable sin; he became so extremely desperate, that he offered to throw himself into the sea; and I think if his thoughts of the Princess and her interest had not restrained him, he had done it. Madam (said he unto her) I am infinitely sorry, that I have exposed your life unto so much danger: No, no, (said she unto him) It is only repentance which I desire from you; and I wish you to steer your course another way, that if I do suffer shipwreck, the waves may waft me unto the Cappadocian coast. But Chrisantes, I cannot repeat all that the Princess said unto Mazares, nor all his replies, but certainly although he was culpable, yet he expressed such moving language, as made appear he was full of pity: The Princess also expressed herself in such just and lamentable terms, that she was able to move cruelty itself: Mean while it was not possible to choose our course, we must now obey the wind and storm: It did often blow us towards the foot of the Tower, and then upon a sudden turning quite contrary, it drove us far off Sinope: We continued all that day, and the night following in continual toss upon the surges of the Sea; sometimes to the right hand, sometimes to the left, and which way soever we went, we found danger: Oars were of no use; Sails would not abide the wind, which whifled from all sides; and all this while there was no hopes of any thing but present death. As soon as day appeared and the Tempest still continuing as boisterous as ever, the Princess desired Mazares to repent of his Act; for as long as it was night, she kept in her Cabin, where out of respect, Mazares would not enter, although he knew Mandana could not sleep: but it beginning to be light, the Princess as as I told you, renewed her complaints and prayers, with so many Tears, and in such a violent manner, that Mazares without giving the Princess any answer went unto the Pilot; and whether it was by virtue of his order (as Orsanes beleeus) or else by the force of the winds, we saw the Pilot turn the Galley towards Sinope. But, Oh Heavens, a huge blast of wind, meeting with a great Billow, made the Galley lean on one side; the Rudder broke, and the Galley grated upon the point of a Rock, so that it turned, and broke in turning; I catched hold of the Princess, Arianta hold of me, and I heard a terrible outcry, amongst which I knew the voice of Mazares, who cried out; O ye Just gods, preserve the Princess; after this I knew not what became of us: only this I remember, that in lieu of seeing water, me thought I saw a great fire, which overwhelmed me, and made me lose all my understanding: Yet Chrisantes, the prayers of unfortunate Mazares were heard, and we escaped this great danger: But let me tell you, it was most strangely, and will astonish you, perhaps, almost as much as it did us. Be pleased to understand then, that the first thing I saw after our shipwreck, was as I did a little open my eyes, I saw men who endeavoured as well as they could to make me let go my hold of the Princess (for you know Chrisantes, it is the quality of those who are in water to hold whatsoever they catch at): this sight, and the hurt these men did me, did more revive me then all the remedies they gave me afterwards; so that striving with them, what would you have (said I to them) and who are you? We are such (answered they unto me) as would save the Princess Mandana, and help you: at these words I let go my hold, and loosed the Princess, also told them, that the gods would recompense them for so charitable an office. After this, coming a little better unto myself, I first saw Arianta, and then the Princess, who revived also as well as I, and who after she opened her eyes did call upon me, almost not knowing what she said: I was yet so dizzy, that I had much ado to rise from the bed whereon they had laid me, but her voice did infuse such fresh strength into me, that I came unto her as she was very attentively looking upon a man, who was kneeling by her bed side, and who holding her by the arm, did try by her Pulse, whether she had strength to revive; when I was come unto her, and she knew me; Martesia (said she unto me, and pulling her arm out of the hands of that man who held it, with as much haste as her weakness would permit her) where are we? Madam (replied the man) you are in a place where you have absolute power and authority; the voice surprising both her and me, she raised herself to look upon him who answered; and then we both together found that he who thus had saved us, was the King of Pontus.  
The King of Pontus (said Chrisantes, and Feraulas, interrupting him) is he in love with the Princess whom Artamenes took Prisoner? Oh heavens, can such a most prodigious accident prove true?  
Yes Wise Chrisantes (said Martesia) and see how it fell out: You very well know, I believe, the ill success which he has had in his Wars against Artamenes; and how in both his Kingdoms he has but one Maritine Town left, in which he was besieged. But I believe you know not, how when he saw this Town was ready to be lost, he resolved to convey himself out of the victory of his enemies, and flee away in a ship, as he did. That which is the greatest wonder is, that this Prince not knowing where to find any safety for himself, and perhaps being pressed unto it by the violence of his passion, which in the midst of his misfortunes did not forsake him: did intend to come and offer himself unto Ciaxares, to help him in regaining his daughter from the King of Assyria; for he had intelligence of her being taken away, before he was besieged: So that embarking himself with that resolution, he came upon the coast of Cappadocia to inform himself in the state of things: and he came thither just in the nick to save our lives: his ship which the tempest had tossed as well as our Galley, was not far off us when we began to suffer shipwreck, although his Pilot endeavoured the place where we were. This Prince being ever very Generous and Noble, and seeing us ready to perish so near him, commanded that all those who appeared above water, should be saved if it were possible: for as ships do better endure a storm then Galleys can, so he might do it without any great danger unto himself: Presently, as if the angry waves were appeased by our shipwreck, there happened a sudden calm at Sea, the winds were hushed immediately; and all the mountainous waves leveled in a moment; so that the King of Pontus putting a small boat into the ●ea his men saved many others, amongst which Orsanes who came now with me was one: As they were all busied in this charitable office, and this Prince being upon the Deck of the ship, and perhaps, thinking himself more unfortunate in the loss of his two Kingdoms, than those men whom he saw floating, were in the loss of their lives, he discovered amongst the waves some women, whose clothes kept them above the water: This object moving him unto much compassion, he commanded in all haste that his men should save them; though no other interest in the world did move him unto it, but his own natural pity: But imagine you Chrisantes how this Prince was surprised, when after they had took us out of the water, and brought us into his Cabin, he knew the Princess Mandana. He presently forgot all his losses, and thought upon nothing but saving that life, which had long since made him lose his liberty. These were this Prince's cogitations; when, as I told you before, he assured the Princess, that she was in a place where she had absolute power, and authority. Mandana, knowing his voice as well as I, Sir (said she unto him) you see that you are not misfortunate alone: But to acknowledge the good office you have done me, I wish that you would make such use of this opportunity, which the gods have given you, to assist an unfortunate Princess, as that you may oblige her to assist you again: Madam (said he unto her) I will complain of my destinies no longer, but I think myself obliged to thank the Heavens for the loss of my Kingdoms, since if I had not lost them, I should not have had the good fortune to save your life, and should not have hindered the Universe from losing her fairest Ornament: But Madam, you are not now in a condition to be spoken unto without troubling you; and since Martesia is with you, also able to help you, the respects which I owe you, bids me withdraw: All my men has Orders to obey your Women, said he to Arianta, and myself: they need but ask what is wanting, and follow the advice of a Physician, who is here with me, and who has already begun to assist you; And indeed by good fortune, there was a Grecian Physician, who followed this Prince in his flight, who was very helpful unto us; for certainly he was a man very knowing in his Art, being a Practiser under that famous Hypocrates, who is so cried up throughout the whole World. This Prince being gone out, and his men supplying us with all necessaries, we undressed the Princess, and got her into bed: and afterwards Arianta and I having dried our clothes, and taken an admirable water, which the Physician gave us, whose virtue was to comfort the heart, and temper the agitation of the blood, we passed away all that day and the next night in very good rest; for to tell you truly, our fears of death, and the weariness of our bodies, did whether we would or no, cause sleep to suspend our unquiet thoughts. The Princess she sighed very often, and could not choose but admire at the prodigiousnesse of our chance; so that after she waked, and saw I was there, and that Arianta slept on, she called me; as our bed by her order was in her Cabin, I no sooner heard her, but I rose, and dressed myself hastily, than went unto her: I found her indeed not ill, considering the illness of the accident, yet I found not her mind very Serene. Well Martesia (said she unto me) what do you think of our Fortune? where is our hopes? Madam, said I unto her, there are such miraculous accidents which do befall us, that I do think it much rashness to judge what our future events will be; for truly Madam, since the Prince Mazares has deceived me, I can trust no more in any one, but must needs mistrust all, yet I am most certain we have escaped a most miraculous danger, which seemed inevitable, and I hope that the same gods who saved you, wil● protect you: For my part, I believe the tempest did only rise to punish the unfortunate Mazares. Perhaps (replied the Princess) he is escaped as well as we; for when our Galley was split, and after we were in the water, I either saw him, or imagined that he held me up by a scarf, which I then had about me; but when I resisted him, and did strive to be loose from him, the scarf did loose of itself, and after that I lost both my reason and my understanding faculties: Madam, said I unto her, that which you tell me is more than an imagination, for your scarf is not to be found, and therefore it is to be thought, that the unfortunate Mazares is perished, and therefore the Tempest, as I said, did rise only to punish him: And perhaps also (added the Princess) that the gods have preserved me, to make me more miserable; for truly Martesia, it is very strange, that these two, the King of Assyria, and the King of Pontus, whom of all men living in the World I most feared to fall into their power, that one of these Princes, whom I thought engaged in a troublesome War, and who perhaps, never was at Sea but this one time, that this Prince I say, should lose both his Kingdoms, and fleeing from a Town (which as his Physician told me) he could not keep, he should take the direct way to meet me; and that his ship, which in all reason, should have shunned the Land, should get no further from it; and that he should come just at the minuit of our shipwreck; that he should save me, and keep me in his power; I tell you Martesia, these prodigious casualties make me all fear. But, Madam, (said I unto her) the misfortune of this Prince will be your security: for what can a King without a Kingdom do? and what Sanctuary could he find if he should offer any violence unto you, or detain you against your mind? I know not my Martesia, (answered the Princess) but I am sure my fears are above my hopes: not but that I have prevalent Reasons to induce the King of Pontus to do as I would desire; but Martesia, my Fate is to make all men I deal with to lose their Reason: I banish virtue out of the souls of them who love me; I alter all their good inclinations: And I think it a miracle, that Artamenes in loving me, should retain his Generosity. Then Chrisantes whilst the Princess was thus discoursing with me, the King of Pontus, who had changed his course, and made towards the main Sea, was no less unquiet in his mind then the Princess was; and going into another chamber with one of his servants, called Pharnabases, in whom he had great confidence, he began to relate the present state of his soul unto him. Orsanes who is here, and who endured the shipwreck better than we, because he could swim, was in another little Room near them, where he could hear all they said, and all which he related unto me the next morning: for although he had been the servant of Mazares, yet he was so serviceable unto us whilst we were in Babylon, that we did not use him ill: Orsanes then being in that place I told you of, heard the King say unto the man; It must be acknowledged Pharnabases, that my destiny is odd, and that the gods do treat me in a rigorous manner: For besides the consideration of the ancient misfortunes of my House, If I call to mind all which hath happened unto me by reason of my passionate love of Mandana, may I not well believe that I am reserved for cross adventures. I was left as a Hostage with Ciaxares, and I became enamoured with Mandana his Daughter: I durst not then declare it openly, because that then there was no hopes of my being King: Yet I was no sooner out of that Prison, but I was presently in the Throne, and then I demanded the Princess Mandana of Ciaxares her father, by way of Marriage, and he denied me: I began a War, and was unfortunate in it: I was taken Prisoner, and did passionately love my vanquisher: I came out of prison by the assistance of his Generosity: Then did I enter into a Civil War; not being able to break those chains which tied me unto Mandana: What should I say Pharnabases? I have been beaten, pursued, besieged, and persecuted by them who my Father left subjects unto me, and who are now become my mortal enemies: I had once two Crowns upon my head, but now I am forced to flee in one single ship, as my only safety and retreat: I am reduced unto this extremity; I find Mandana, whom I ever adored in my heart, at the very point of death; It was my hap to save her, and now I have her in my power; Ah Pharnabases, how much would this last adventure advantage me, if I could make good use of it? I should value the loss of both my two Kingdoms at a low rate, if I could but conquer the heart of Mandana. But alas, that likelihood is there, that the gods will ever permit me to so glorious a Conquest? If ●ver they had intended me such a happiness, they would never have taken my two Crowns ●rom me: But also what likelihood was there to find this Princess in such a deplorable condition? or that they should ever afford me so much joy, as to have her in my power; ●urely they intended me some consolation for the loss of my two Crowns: No, no, I will ●ill hope that since they have given me possession of such an unestimable Treasure, which does not belong unto me, and which I am unworthy of, they will render me that which does belong unto me. But oh heavens, I am not rightly amorous to remember any crowns, at the feet of Mandana: no proud passion, which vaunts and domineers in the hearts of all men, thou shalt not do so in mine, and love shall surmount thee: yes, in spite of all my losses, all my disgraces; and all my ambition, this very one thought that Mandana is in my power, shall rejoice me, and make me willingly forsake them all: But yet, thou unfortunat Prince, what canst thou do? Is it possible that a King who is turned out of his dominions, whose imaginations can think of nothing but, subjecting thrones, Broken Sceptres, and Crushed Crowns, can be sensible of any delights? but on the other side? is it possible to see Mandana, and Mandana risen from the dead, and risen by thee, and not be sensible of so much Joy as may comfort thee in all thy sorrows? No, no, this is a privilege of love, which ambition cannot dispute for: The Joys of ambition are not always serene; and the remembrance of my losses do sometimes trouble me: but the Image of Mandana no sooner comes into my memory, but all those melancholy thoughts forsake me, those mists vanish and, I see nothing but Mandana; yes Pharnabases, I no sooner apply myself unto this pleasing thought, but I know not whether I am still upon a throne, or whether I be thrown out of it; whether I be upon the sea, or whether I am upon earth: I know only that I never think upon regaining my kingdoms, nor of revenging myself upon my enemies: All my thoughts are how to vanquish the civility of my Princess. But Pharnabases the enterprise is extremely difficult, and I shall have much a do to find out such reasons, as can give me any hopes of softening the severity of Mandana. The obligation Sir, which she owes you, (replied Pharnabases) is argument sufficient to move her mind; and I think that such a one as▪ owes unto you a life were extremely unjust, if she did deny you her affection: alas Pharnabases (said the King unto him) it seems you are not acquainted with Mandana: yet know thus much, that although I should expose my own life a thousand and a thousand times to preserve hers, yet would she owe me nothing; for it is no more than duty of all such as have the honour to know her, to do as much, out of their love unto her, and I should do as much, although I were certain to be extremely hated eternally. But Pharnabases, my Joy to have such a treasure in my possession, which I value at a far higher rate than the empire of all Asia, is both a most sweet, and a most bitter, grief unto me, since I shall not now be troubled by the misfortune of any Rival; for I understand by one of them who escaped the shipwreck, that the Princess was ever very averse unto the King of Assyria; and that though he had her in the prime town in the world, yet could he not move her at all: what can I then hope to do? who cannot present her with any crowns or sceptres and has nothing left in my power to give her but that same heart which she has so often refused: Ah Pharnabases! Ambition is a great incitement unto love, Crowns and Sceptres moves hearts which are most insensible: I cannot think, a Prince who is driven out of his dominions, and can present nothing but a share in his misfortunes, is in a condition to strike deep into the mind of Mandana: For my part, (said Pharnabases) I think you complain of this accident, which you rather ought to rejoice at, because if you restore the Princess Mandana unto her father, I am certain that the same army wherewith he intended to take Babylon, and since is master of it, and which as these men who have escaped from the shipwreck, do say, will be presently returned into Cappadocia, shall be employed to reconquer your estate again: and I am certain, that Artamenes who you so much speak of will not deny you his assistance: I do confess Pharnabases, and am fully persuaded that it would be more prudent and Judicious to take the course you speak of, rather than to humour my extreme passion: But yet in doing so, I should be more ambitious than amorous, and love a crown better than I do Mandana, and not prefer her as I do above all the Crowns and Sceptres upon earth: for although he do give me his army, yet will he not give me his daughter: so that if I part with her I shall be almost certain to regain my Crown, but then I shall be certain also to lose Mandana: Ha Pharnabases there is no comparison in the choice of these two; and I had much rather never get my Crown, than never see Mandana again: But Sir, answered Pharnabases, all your thoughts of ambition and Crowns will be but thorns in your heart, and you would be still unhappy unless you were loved: and I do make it a grand question whether you ever will be so: as long as you are without a Crown, without a Sceptre, without a habitation, but as thus a wanderer, a fugitive, and an unfortunat man: consider Sir, I beseech you, that by restoring this Princess you will gain a potent protector, and find a safe sanctuary: and that if you do not restore her, than you know not where to find a place of retreat in all the earth: and you will ruin yourself under the arms of an enemy, who in the turning of an eye can command two hundred thousand men: I do confess Pharnabases (answered the King) that all you say is true: But I know also that I have a more formidable enemy in my own heart which I know not how to overcome, and who I should be sorry if he did so: yes Pharnabases, the sight of Mandana has so much inflamed my passion, that I can hearken unto nothing but what will satisfy it. I know that in lieu of a gallant act, I shall commit a crime; but what should I do? It is the violence of love enforceth me to it: and I conceive it a thing absolutely impossible to have one who is beloved as I love Mandana in ones power, and voluntarily to part with her: moreover there are not the same reasons why she should hate me, as there are why she should hate the King of Assyria; for I did not take her away as he did, but on the contrary I saved her life, and rescued her out of the arms of death: she cannot therefore without great injustice call me her Ravisher, since I did only preserve that treasure which the gods did send me as a cordial after all my losses: But alas, how can I keep this unvaluable treasure in a poor single ship without any refuge or retract? and can I find in my heart to make her unto whom of all the earth I wish most happiness, so infinitely unhappy? Truth is, Chrisantes this Prince after such an extreme agitation of his mind, could not resolve upon any thing; but when he understood by the physician that the Princess was in so good a condition that she might be seen, he sent, to desire permission that he might visit her. At his first approach unto her, he expressed much Joy, to see so many signs of health in her countenance, considering the accident; not but that there was much melancholy in the eyes of the Princes; but since she was ever so fair that she could not ever look ill, he thought better of her then indeed she was: moreover, the King, seeing her the day before in a worse condition, did think, she Looked well then: The Princess, as owing her Life unto him, Received him with a Civility, and after she had caused him to sit down, she said unto him with as much spirit as sweetness: you see here Sir a wonderful effect of fortune's inconstancy: for when you Left me last at Sinope, I was in a condition then to do you a favour; but now, I am in a condition to Receive one from you: War, brought you into my father's prison, and fortune has brought me into yours: and I rejoice in my captivity, since I have an opinion that he who has saved my life, will suffer me to enjoy it; and perhaps will remember that he went out of Cappadocia without any ransom; but Sir, I do not speak this with any intention to quit my own; but on the contrary, I am certain that the King my father will both pay it, and also if you please, assist you in the reconquest of the kingdoms of Pontus and Bythinia: I am at this present Madam, (replied the King) so rich, since I have the honour to see you in a place where I have power, that I cannot think of any conquests: and if you had not remembered me of my misfortunes, in speaking to me of my prison, I think I should have absolutely forgot all my losses and disgraces: But they are so considerable (replied she) that they cannot choose but be remembered at all times, and in all places: yet generous Prince, there wants a remedy, against them: doubtless Madam, you may, (said the King sighing) if you please, yes, (answered the Princese) but it must be by the valour of another: therefore Sir, I beseech you make towards Sinope, that we may send one of your men on shore to get information where the King my father is: my design was, (replied the King) to go and offer myself unto him, that he would be pleased to accept of my assistance, in recovering you out of the King of Assyrias power; but now the course and end of my voyage is altered: you may better proceed in your voyage (said the Princess) since in rescuing me from death, you have done that alone, which you could not have done with two hundred thousand men, if you had been to deliver me out of the power of the King of Assyria: so that Sir you shall come into the camp of Ciaxares as a Prince who has done more than a puissant army could do: yes Madam (answered he kneeling notwithstanding the opposition of the Princess) but Madam do you know my thoughts? and if you do know them, can you think that the loss of my two kingdoms, can alter them: I think Sir (replied the Princess) that if you did esteem me, you will do so still; and you may in all reason think, that since you have not changed your thoughts, no more have I mine, but that I continue still the very same I was; oh Madam (replied he) will you continue so insensible, and so inexorable for ever? did the gods send me to raise you from the dead, that you should so cruelly give me my death? I do confess Sir, (answered the Princess raising up herself a little) that I owe my life unto you; but if you gave it me, with any intentions it should be a torment unto me, I do freely permit you to take it again when you please: No Madam, replied he, you shall never lose it that way, for it is a jewel which I will ever defend with the hazard of mine own. Sir, (answered she) do you think that there is neither fire, nor sword, nor poison, can send me to my grave: No, no, you deceive yourself if you think it, and there are other kinds of death more cruel than they, though they do not look so horridly: yes Sir, said she, I do prefer the most violent death above a servitude; and I shall think you more innocent in killing me, then keeping me by force, or in making me die by despair: but generous Prince, I cannot believe you have any such design, and when I remember how bravely you treated a man, who did every day endeavour to catch you into his power; when I remember, I say, how you advertised Artamenes of the conspiracy against his life, and how you did command he should not be shot at; I cannot think that since ambition left you your reason free, love should so deprive you of it, as not to consider in what state your business is in, and though you were not generous, but prudent only and interested, yet would it be very advantageous for you to restore me unto the King my father, and absolutely prejudicial unto you to retain me long: I see very well Madam (answered he) that all you say is most reasonable, yet I must be master of more reason than I am, before I can execute it: That which most comforts me in this adventure, Divine Princess, is, that I see you never were in love, so that I have no other impediment to remove, but that of insensibility: For indeed Madam, if you did but know what it was to love, you would never speak thus unto me, and you would know that all other passions in comparison of it are nothing: But Sir (replied she and blushed) I think that they who love, desire to be beloved again, and that it is a general rule, all lovers would not incur the hatred of them they love: if so, then consider if you please, that by restoring me to my father you will at the least obtain some of my esteem, and perhaps my friendship; and that if you do not restore me, I shall then hate you above all comparisons, more than I think you love me. Your esteem, Madam, and friendship (answered the King) are two things which are infinitely precious, and ought fully to satisfy such as do only esteem and honour you: But love, Madam, is a passion, much more tyrannical, and will be satisfied with nothing but the same; think it not strange then, I beseech you, if the hopes which you give me to enjoy your esteem and friendship, do not move me to forsake the interest of my love: But Sir, replied she, then in lieu of obtaining my love, you will find my extreme hate: who knows, Madam, (answered he) whether a little time may not move an alteration in your heart? and whether pity may not procure that from you which nothing else can? Consider, I beseech you Madam, that he whom you see here before you, has a soul so possessed with violent passion, as never man had the like; and if you will know it, be pleased to consider but two things: First, that one only favourable look from you, does comfort, more than the regaining of my two Kingdoms would: Secondly, that though perhaps, I might obtain sufficient forces from the King your father, to reconquer them, if I should restore you unto him; yet I had rather choose to lose them both then be deprived of you: Take heed Sir what you say, replied the Princess; for in restoring me my liberty, you will only want the sight of me; but if you do not restore me, you will not only lose my esteem, but also in a few days my life; whereas on the contrary, if you please, you may sit in your Throne again in glory, and have this satisfaction to boot, that I shall be most extremely obliged unto you: A Throne, Madam (answered he) is not necessary for that Prince who cannot live without you; and if during my late wars I had not retained some hopes, to find out ways whereby I might move your heart by my perseverance, I should not have so obstinately disputed the victory with those who have vanquished me: not Madam, but that I know you have great reason to despise and scorn that Prince whom fortune has forsaken: But yet Madam, it is worth consideration, to think how inconstant this fortune is: who one day, perhaps courts him, whom the next day she cruelly persecutes; and this very accident in meeting with you, persuades me that all my misfortunes are blown over, and that a serene calm will follow my boisterous storm; yes Madam, the sight of you speaks serenity unto me, and infuseth lively hopes into the souls of them who before were sunk in sorrows; I hope therefore Madam, that good fortune will follow, as long as I am with you, and that there is no Country, I shall not find a sanctuary in, as long as I carry you thither; yet notwithstanding Madam, I do promise you, never to use any thing but my tears, and sighs, and prayers, and perseverance, wherewith to overcome you: fear not therefore Madam, to be engaged in my fortunes; and believe it, that when I see I cannot obtain your love by these innocent ways, you shall then receive your liberty by the end of my life: How Sir, (replied the Princess, with her eyes full of tears) must I not have my liberty till ●ou die? I beseech you do not force me to desire it, it is a thing I never yet wished unto ●y most mortal enemies; and I should be very sorry to be compelled to wish it unto a Prince who has so many excellent qualities, to one who has saved my life, and one who doubtless will never forsake the ways of virtue, 〈◊〉 persecute me; moreover, Sir, into what part of the world soever you shall carry me, 〈◊〉 King my father will follow you 〈…〉 Artamenes, whose valour is not unknown to you, ●ill perhaps compel you to d 〈…〉 now will be a favour, if you will be pleased to do it: If I could Madam, (r 〈…〉 in a most passionate gesture) doubtless I would do it, and prevent 〈…〉 ers' and menaces: But alas, Divine Princess, I cannot; all that is in my 〈…〉 s to tell you, that if it be your pleasure, I will cast myself into the Sea, or run my 〈◊〉 through that heart which I have dedicated unto you; I shall do it willingly at the very same minute you command it, and so by my death set you at liberty; it is not the will of the gods (replied the Princess) that we should expiate one sin by committing another, and therefore I shall never bid you die in that manner: But Sir, I do entreat you with all the affection which I am capable of, that you would not make me unhappy by making yourself culpable, or by making me bear the burden of your misfortunes; when the King 〈◊〉 that all he said, did but more incense the Princess, he rose up, and in all reverence co 〈…〉 eeing, said unto her; We shall see madam, whether the gods will change my heart, o●pitty move yours: after this, without giving any time to answer, he went out of her Cabin, and presently after Orfanes entered, who not knowing what the King had said unto the Princess, came to tell as what he had heard. Mandana thanked him, and told him that his master's crime should not be imputed unto the servant, but that if ever she came into a condition to be able, she would requite him: My master, Madam, (said he unto her) was so infinitely respective of you, that if he were alive, certainly he would repair his fault; and I verily believe we had not suffered shipwreck if he had obeyed you, and changed our course when you desired: However Orsanes, replied the Princess, if I have any need of your help, I believe you will not deny it; you may command me Madam, the the most difficult services, (answered he) and shall certainly be obeyed. And truly I think there was not a more officious man in the world than this, nor more understanding; it was by his reports I came unto much of what I have related unto you. Orsanes being gone out, the Princess began to lament her misfortunes, and Arianta also began to repent that she had been a cause of them, and that, with such extreme sorrow, as she almost lost her reason; for this woman, though none did think of accusing her, did begin to accuse herself, and beg the Princess pardon, with a promise hereafter of inviolable fidelity: She told her further, how she conceived it would have been a good piece of service unto her, to contribute all she could to make her Queen of Assyria: and truly, she spoke so ingeniously, and with so repentant a sorrow for her fault, as the Princess pardoned her. Mean while the King of Pontus had his share in sorrow; he neither durst visit the Princess, nor could for bear it: fain would he deliver her up to her father, and feigner would he keep her; and not knowing whither to go, or what to do, we wandered many days together upon the Seas, and the Pilot received no other orders, but to keep far from any land, and avoid meeting with any Ships. You may judge unto what patience we were put; I spoke often unto the King of Pontus, but all in vain; and the three last days which we were upon the Sea, he came not into the Princess chamber: But at the last, when the King bethought himself, how the King of Armenia would pay no more Tribute unto the King of the Medes, since the death of Astyages, he believed that he might find a safety there, for there was alliance between them: So that one morning as our Ship lay at anchor, close by the mouth of the River Halis, the King sent a little Cockboat to procure a greater boat, to Rowe up by strength of Oar the said River; and one was presently gotten, so that then he came unto the Princess Cabin: Madam (said he, with a disordered countenance) it is not just to let you any longer endure the inconveniency of the Sea, you will find less discommodity in a River. I shall suffer equal inconveniency in both (answered she) as long as you continue thus unreasonable. Madam, said he unto her, my design is to carry you unto the King of Armenia. The Princess was glad when she saw that we were indeed to leave the Sea; and she hoped for more help upon Land, or in a River, then in a Ship on the midst of tossing waves: And although she knew that the King of Armenia had an ambitious and stirring spirit, also would be glad of any pretence for a war; yet the Prince Tigranis his son, who was very virtuously disposed, and who she had heretofore seen at Sinope, did comfort her a little: She went therefore whither they carried her without any contradiction: It was the Princess desire that Orsanes and two others might go with which was all we could obtain, of fifteen or twenty which were saved from shipwreck, and the King of Pontus took only thirty of his own men; but we knew not what he did with his Ship: Then began we to boat up the River by force of Oar, but because the River did run there with a very swift current, it was a long time before we could get into it, and we were almost always upon the Land, because the middle of the River did run more rapidly: As we looked about us, the Princess esp 〈…〉 Ortalques upon the River banks, and knew him at the first; but I suppose that I need not particularise any further concerning this passage, since 〈…〉 magine that you already know them by him, for Artucas told me, that he came hither: sh〈…〉 sooner saw him, but pulling out a little inkhorn, which she ever carried about her, and hiding herself behind Arianta and myself, she writ what doubtless you have seen, or at least heard of it by Ortalques: but as ill luck would have it, the King of Pontus, who was busy in seeing them Row, turned his head towards us, as she was writing, so that she had not time to end her Note, but gave it unto me; I lapped it up in my hood, and as the Boat almost touched the Land near Ortalques, I threw it unto him, as if the wind had carried it from me, and seemed as if I did not care whether or no I had it again; so that they stayed not the Boat for it, for if they had, the current of the water would have driven the Boat back again into the Sea: Without doubt Chrisantes you know that this River has its original among the Mountains in Armenia; that it runs along by the side of Lydia; and that it spreads itself upon the right hand towards Mantiana, and on the left hand towards Phrygia: that afterwards on the right hand it moistens a great part of Cappadocia, and on the left hand Paphlagonia; so that there were some places by which we were to go, that the King of Pontus feared very much, and which the Princess also feared, because it was on that side of Cappadocia, where the people by the persuasions of Aribeus were revolted, and took part with the King of Assyria: But as soon as we were past Cappadocia, he suffered us sometime to stay in the night time, that the Princess might more quietly take rest and sleep: and to that end, they made her a Cabin in the Boat, which separated us from the rest of the company, and where none but her own servants entered, excepting the King of Pontus: At last Chrisantes, as necessity is always ingenious, the Princess did not apprehend it an absolute impossibility for us to make an escape, so that I consulted with Orsanes, and we resolved to endeavour it: The Princess would have a candle burning always in the night time, in our Cabin; but the better to execute our design we put it out: And prosecuting our resolution, one night when we were near a great Wood, Orsanes who lay on the outside of our Cabin, came under the hangings on our side, and went quietly into the water, which was not very deep in that place, intending to take us, one after another, and carry us ashore, and then to hide ourselves in the thick of the great Wood, which we observed very near us: And since the night was very dark, and we but two to be carried, the Princess would not be carried first, because she should then be alone upon the Banks, so that she would have Orsanes carry me first; But Oh Heavens, what ill fortune was it that I obeyed her? and how much injury did the Princess do herself in commanding it? For Orsanes and I were no sooner at Land, but the King of Pontus waking, and seeing no light in our Cabin, cried out to him that stood Centinel (who had not perceived us because it was very dark) and bade him look well to the Princess; so that at this Cry, the Watermen who always kept a dark lantern, did bring it, and there they found the Princess all alone in a great amazement. Orsanes and I, seeing this, would have returned what danger soever would hap unto us: but the Watermen Rowing away with all their strength, by order from the King of Pontus, Cry and call as long, and as loud as we could, they would not stay to take us in: The King questionless imagining, that we had got some considerable strength upon Land to execute our design; We heard the Princess call sometimes Martesia, and sometimes Orsanes: but presently after we neither heard nor saw any thing, although the Moon presently after began to break out, and the River in that place did so turn and wind, that it was impossible for us to see the Boat: You may well imagine Chrisantes, how great my sorrows, and my fears were: First, to see I was separated from the Princess: Secondly, to find myself alone with a man upon the banks of a great River, near a great Wood, in the midst of the night; The rest of the night we passed away and followed the River side, hoping always, that the Moon would shine so clear, that we might once more discover the Boat: At the last, we being very weary, and having found a little habitation of Fishermen by the water side, we stayed there, and found there more helps than we could hope for from men of such Quality. We told them our adventure, disguising our names, and the qualities of the persons, because we were in Paphlagonia, and desired them to inform us, whether it were possible to overtake the Boat we told them of: they told us that it was absolutely impossible to overtake them with another Boat, considering the number of their Oars, and the time we had lost to follow them: nor was it more easy to follow with Horses, because the River doth turn and wind very much: and their Boat taking always the middle of the River, has by consequence less way to go then they who go by the sides: Moreover, not far from thence the River divides into two, and who can tell which way they would take? In conclusion Chrisantes, we had no other course, but to find out some way how to come hither; where I did suppose I should find the King. I had by good fortune the Picture of the Princess about me, in a very rich box, which upon this occasion did us very good service: for when I had taken out the Picture, I sent Orsanes unto the next Town to sell it, and to buy a Coach and Horses, whilst he left me amongst the fishermen: At his return we did recompense those honest men for their courtesies, and came in all haste hither, where we thought verily to find Artamenes also, but little did we think to find him a Prisoner. Now wise Chrisantes you know thus far of the Princess her fortune: and I did very much desire to relate it unto you, before I spoke with the King, to the end that when you were informed of our adventures, and myself also better instructedin the state of things, I might more judicially know what to say, or not to say.  
Martesia having ended her story, Chrisantes and Feraulas thanked her for the pains she had taken, and began to consider the wonderful passages she had told them. They could not sufficiently admire the constancy of the Princess, and her immovable virtue wherewith she acted throughout all her adventures. They considered her as carried away by the greatest King of all Asia, whom she hated: they than looked upon her as in the power of a Prince, whom she very much esteemed; and yet they think upon her, as she is in the power of a King, without a Kingdom: They observed the greatness of the first, did not terrify her from treating him less rigorously; That the esteem which she had of the second, did not alter her heart; and that the misfortunes of the third, did not move her to treat him less civilly, then if he were upon his Throne: The truth is, they saw Mandana was so worthy of Artamenes, and Artamenes of Mandana, that when they considered how they were separated, and how both of them unfortunate, their conversation could not choose but end in sighs and tears, and all other signs of compassion: First, for so many misfortunes as the Princess had been exposed unto; Secondly, by reason of that strange Oracle which threatened a greater misfortune unto Artamenes, than his imprisonment. Feraulas was overjoyed to see Martesia again; and Chrisantes, who did very highly esteem her virtues, did bid her very welcome back: yet before they parted, they made a short relation according to their promise, of all the adventures of Artamenes: As well his voyage unto the Massagettes, as his return to Cappadocia: and also all the Assyrian War: They related also the lamentable encounter that Artamenes had with Mazares, when he was dying, who had from him the scarf whereof she spoke in her relation, and which Artamenes knew to be the same which Mandana had refused him, a little before he went to fight: But (added Feraulas) I am certain he was much more sad, when he received it, than he was when it was denied him: Truly (said Martesia) the destiny of that scarf is very strange; for I beseech you consider by what an odd way Fate has brought it into Artamenes hands: First you know that it was of most rare Golden Tissue, and admirably wrought by the Princess herself, for her own diversion, and that was the reason why she valued it so much, though she had other reasons to deny it Artamenes, when he desired it from her at Anisa: But as if she valued it at a higher esteem, because Artamenes had desired it, she commanded me to have an extraordinary care of it, and would wear it no more. Afterwards when we returned to Sinope, I carried it thither, and when we departed from thence, and went unto Amasia, and from thence to Themiscira, I left it there amongst a hundred other things which belonged unto the Princess; so also, when we returned thither again with the King of Assyria, there I found it; for Aribeus did not suffer any disorder in the Castle: and that same night we went away, this scarf, I know not how, fell out of my hands; and immediately, being moved unto it, by I know not what conceit, Madam (said I unto the Princess, who came in as I took it up) shall this scarf which you value so much, and which you denied Artamenes, remain in the hands of the King of Assyria: No Martesia (said she unto me) it shall not: for if Artamenes should hereafter see him wear it in any combat, he would imagine perhaps, that I gave it him: In conclusion, Feraulas, she took it, and wore it, and see by what Fate Mazares came by it; and how Artamenes received that from one of his Rivals, which the Princess had refused him. Last of all, Feraulas and Chrisantes, resolved that Martesia should stay a day or two before she showed herself, to the end they might have leisure, first to relate what she had told them unto their dear Master, and whilst they had consulted with his friends, when would be the fittest time the King should see her. Martesia desired Feraulas to assure Artamenes that she would most seriously interest herself in his fortunes; and that she did most passionately wish, that this little shadow of liberty which was permitted him of late, might be speedily seconded by an absolute freedom, so as he might be in a condition to go and relieve the Princess. After this, Chrisantes and Feraulas left her, and went to give Artamenes so much satisfaction, as to hear of Mandana's Fidelity and Constancy.   
The End of the Second Book.   

ARTAMENES, OR Cyrus the Great. THE SECOND PART. BOOK III.  
THese two faithful servants of a famous Master, could not satisfy their desires until the next morning; because it was not possible to find Artamenes alone by himself, since Ciaxares had given this liberty to visit him, unless it were in a morning before he did rise out of his bed: for every one did earnestly desire the benefit of that privilege; and every one to make this privilege to continue longer, told Ciaxares, that Artamenes did bend at last, and would discover what he desired: This generous prisoner was extremely impatient to be at liberty, that he might free Mandana; but although love took up all his soul, he did not forget that Araspes was in prison as well as himself, and he sent very often to see how he did; and did apparently testify that his imprisonment did augment the rigour of his own: He was extremely ravished with admiration, when Chrisantes and Feraulas came unto him as he was in bed, and told him Martesia was come to Sinope; the name of Martesia caused him to leap up for joy, imagining that Mandana was not far off; and the relation which afterwards they made unto him of Mandana's adventures, and of her fidelity to him, made so great a rapture in his soul, as he was not able to receive such good news in its full delight; for indeed Chrisantes and Feraulas told him also of that Oracle which the King of Assyria had received at Babylon: And also, to hear that the Princess was in the power of the King of Pontus, whose excellent merit he very well knew, was another means to moderate his excessive joy. Do you admire Chrisantes, (said he unto him) the humorous disposition of Fate, which procures me the most accomplished and most reasonable men in their loves, to be my Rivals? For truly if Mandana had been courted only by Princes of brutish passions, such as would speak of nothing but violences, of sword, or fire, or blood; who would make themselves to be loved, by such courses as commonly procures hatred; such as pretend only unto vicious favours, and ask them with daggers in their hands, and fury in their eyes, than I would not fear that the Divine Mandana would prefer them before Artamenes. But Chrisantes, I have much reason to fear what now you come to tell me; and as you relate the story unto me; the ravishers of Mandana are a hundred times more to be feared, then if they were less reasonable, & not so submissive. But Sir, (said Feraulas) I beseech you consider, that the King of Assyria is now not with Mandana: Also you are certain, that Mazares is not alive, and she is only in the power of a King who has not a kingdom: It is true, replied he, but this King without a Crown, deserves a hundred, and that is it, which makes him terrible unto me, yet notwithstanding, he was sometimes very glad to know that the Princess was in Armenia, and sometimes again he would be sorry for it; for though the virtue of Tygranes was a comfort unto him, yet the violent and ambitious disposition of the King his father, caused some sorrow in him. Feraulas then presented Martesia's compliment unto him, which he received very kindly, and sent back Feraulas presently unto her, to testify his thanks, and sorrow that he was not in such a condition, to come hinself and tell her what he thought; and also to let her know, how much he thought himself obliged unto her, for acquainting him with the Princess thoughts: he also sent Chrisantes unto the Princess which had interested themselves concerning his liberty, to consult with them upon the return of Martesia: and all of them conceived that the sooner she showed herself unto the King, it would be the better; for they thought that the certainty of the Princess fortune, and the infallible appearance of a new war, would much conduce unto his freedom. Chrisantes then, advertising Martesia of the resolution, she appeared the same night, and said she came but then to town. The King received her with extreme joy and shed many tears of tenderness, for he knew how the Princess his daughter loved her? she acquainted him with all the removes and rapes of Mandana, and with every passage excepting what related unto Artamenes, which she handsomely concealed with much care, naming him but once in all her relation: nor did she mention the Oracle received at Babylon, lest it should trouble him, and displease Artamenes, and as she was very witty, so she did deliver every thing or pass it over, as it might be either advantageous or prejudicial: Ciaxares was glad that the Princess was in the King of Pontus' power, supposing that a Prince who was deprived of his own kingdoms, would hardly find protection in another. He believed that the King of Armenia would be glad to have a new pretence for a war, and upon that thought he sighed, and could not choose but secretly wish that Artamenes would put himself into a condition to relieve her, by confessing what he desired to know from him. After the King had welcomed Martesia, he would have had her lie in the Castle, but she beseeched him to let her return back unto her kinsman; whither she went accordingly, and was visited by all the Ladies of the town, and also by all the Princes and men of quality in Sinope: mean while, all the friends of Artamenes were continually soliciting the King in his behalf: and indeed the King did seem much to desire it, yet was very obstinately resolved to know either his innocency, or his crime: yet he had such confused thoughts, that he himself knew not well what to resolve upon, until the return of Megabises whom he had sent into Armenia, for if by it, he found that his daughter would be restored, then would he be less indulgent towards Artamenes; But if on the contrary, she were refused, and that he must be forced unto a fresh war, than he knew how necessary the liberty of Artamenes would be unto Mandana's; thus being in himself irresolute, the King of Phrygia, the King of Hyrcania, and all the rest of the Princes who were advocates for Artamenes, could not get one peremptory word from him: As they were upon a day altogether about him, intelligence came, that there appeared many strangers and foreign troops upon the plain coming towards Sinope: and presently after, Thimocrates and Philocles came in and told the King, that the Prince Philoxypes a favourite unto the King of Cyprus their master, and an ancient friend unto Artamenes, having married the Princess Agarista his sister unto the Prince of Sicily, had obliged him upon the marriage to send ten thousand men unto Artamenes, to the end he might present them unto his majesty; and that he would be so pleased as to permit them to have some part of that honour which these troops would get, under the command of so great a King, and by the valour of so gallant a man as Artamenes. Ciaxares blushed at the discourse, and somewhat wondered, that he who was to present the Sicilian troops, was himself in such a condition as to need the help of another, also he very civilly accepted all that Thimoerates and Philocles said unto him; and permitted him who commanded these soldiers, who was brother unto the King of Sicily, to enter. Ciaxares himself to do him the more honour, would go upon the walls of the town to see these troops, come in, which he found to be very gallant, composed of handsome men, well armed, and accoutred: and the Prince who commanded them, young and handsome. After the King had viewed these Sicilian troops under the walls, and had ordered them to encamp close by the troops of Cyprus, they two being in amity one with another, the young Prince who was their General, called Artibies, was brought by Thimocates and Philocles unto Ciaxares, who told him that Artamenes was not in a condition to be present. Artibies enquiring the cause, was much surprised at it, and made some doubt whether he should continue his offer unto Ciaxares, considering Philoxypes would never have moved his brother to send these troops, but only in favour of Artamenes. But Thimocrates and Philocles conceiving that in case of necessity they might be useful unto Artamenes, told him, that he ought not to decline from his offer unto the King, but that he should when he spoke unto the king acquit himself of his commission, and tell him, that it was the interest of Artamenes which moved Philoxypes unto it. This young Prince was no sooner come before Ciaxares, but after he had saluted him, Sir (said he unto him) I was in hope to have been presented unto you, by one who ought to be very dear unto you, and one who has made himself most Illustrious throughout all the world; but I see that Thimocrates, and Philocles have great need to comfort me in my sorrows to be deprived of that advantage: For indeed, although the Prince of Sicily my brother and sovereign, and the Prince Philoxypes, have sent me for the service of your Majesty, and accordingly I have obeyed them, yet for my own particular I must confess unto you, I should have been extremely Joyful, if I could hope to learn under the Illustrious Artamenes that mystery in which he is so exactly knowing. You may find so many other expert commanders in this army (said the King and showed him all those about him) that though my affairs will not permit me to set Artamenes at liberty, yet you will find no cause to repent you came amongst us; Sir, replied the King of Phrygia, we are all but Scholars unto Artamenes, and this Prince has great reason to grieve, as he does, for the privation of so great an advantage. Since this discourse was not pleasant unto Ciaxares, he turned it to something else, and asked very inquisitively concerning the health of the King of Cyprus, and of Philoxypes, and also of the Prince of Sicily: but say what he would, yet Artibies would always bring in Artamenes. If the King spoke concerning the King of Cyprus, he would then answer that this Prince had ever a good opinion of his prudence, since he understood how he had committed the conduct of his army unto Artamenes: If Ciaxares asked him any thing concerning Philoxypes than he would answer him, that Philoxypes had a great desire to come himself, and command in the room of Thimocrates, only that he might learn of Artamenes; if Ciaxares spoke any thing concerning the Prince of Sicily, then would Artibies tell him, that if he were not so infinitely uxorious, & loving unto the Princess his wife, whom he had newly married, he would have come hither himself purposely to be acquainted with Artamenes, of whom fame spoke so loud: at the last, when Ciaxares saw that no discourse though never so far off the matter, but still the name of Artamenes was in the mouth of Artibies, he told him, that it was not just he should be kept any longer from his rest, and commanded him to be lodged in the best lodgings, and treated with all possible civility: But before, Artibies left him, he desired permission to go and see Artamenes in prison, whom he hoped to have seen in the head of an army: unto which desire Ciaxares consented: then he went immediately unto the prison of Artamenes, conducted by Aglatidas, Andramias, Thimocrates, and Philocles. Artamenes, at the name of Philoxypes, and the Princess Agarista his sister, did express much friendship unto Artibies. This Prince presented unto him one of his Captains named Leontidas, who Artamenes knew to be an especial friend unto Philoxypes, who at his coming from him did charge him to present unto Artamenes the continuance of his friendship, and to deliver a letter unto him. Artamenes receiving it with much Joy (for he did infinitely esteem Philoxypes, although he had not been long in the Isle of Cyprus) desired Artibies that he might read it: The contents were these.  
PHILOXYPES UNTO ARTAMENES.  
I Am very glad that fortune was of my opinion, and has given you that which I ever thought you most worthy of, since the first time I had the honour to see you: I wish, that since she was not blind in serving you, so she may not be inconstant in continuing it; but that you all your life enjoy that happiness, which none who knows you, can without injustice envy. Moreover, I had not married the Princess Agharista my sister, but upon condition that the Prince of Sicily her husband, should send some Troops unto you: and I hope, that for my sake, the Prince Artibies will be welcome unto you; and that after he has purchased your esteem by those rare qualities whereof he is owner, you will admit him some part in your friendship; But to tell you something which is more delightful, that I may thereby the more oblige you, be pleased to know, that the same famous man, whom you came into our Isle to seek, out of your desire to be acquainted with his virtues, is in love with yours: And if the good of his Country had not called him back unto Athens, he had done that for Artamenenes, which Artamenes did for Solon. If you desire to be further acquainted with my fortunes, I have entreated Leontidas to inform you; and to assure you that I am not more in love with the beauty of Policrite, than I am with the glory of Artamenes.  
PHILOXYPES.  
After Artamenes had done reading the Letter, he redoubled his civilities towards Artibies, showing unto him the Letter of Philoxypes; you see, (said he unto him) how the wishes of that Prince, are not effectual, and how fortune whereof he speaks has forsaken me: But (said he in turning towards Leontidas) it is from you Sir, that I must receive much consolation in my misery, in relating unto me, what concerns the Prince Philoxypes: for truly, if I be not mistaken, there must needs be a great alteration in him, if it be so as he says in his Letter, that he hath been in love, since when I was acquainted with him, he was in love with nothing but books, pictures, music, and such excellent arts, and if he had any mistress then, certainly it was the virtue of Solon, whom I heard him often speak of: Oh Sir, (replied Leontidas) there is indeed great alterations in the life of the Prince Philoxypes, such as doubtless will much surprise you, as they did not only the Court, but all the Kingdom of Cyprus; since I believe there was not one in all the Towns of Pathos, Amathuses, Psalms, and Cytherea, who has not without admiration heard of his adventure: Artamenes then seeming to be desirous of knowing the fortune of so famous a Prince: Leontidas promised him to come unto him the next morning, and satisfy his desire. The rest of this day was spent in civilities to Artibies; and the next morning Thimocrates and Philocles being desirous to know what accidents had happened in the Court of Cyprus since they left it, waited upon Leontidas unto Artamenes, who as soon as they came in, because they would lose no time, did sit down, Leontidas being in the mist of them, began his discourse thus.  

THE HISTORY OF PHILOXYPES AND POLICRITE.  
SIR, since your abode in this our Island hath not been long; that you may the better understand this Story, it is requisite that you know part of the Customs of this Island, the which I will in a few words acquaint you with, that my ensuing Discourse may appear less tedious to you. You must then know, Sir, that this good Island, which for its precinct situation, fertility, for the beauty and greatness of its Towns, and its Magnificent Temples, passeth for the most famous and most considerable of as many lie on the Aegean Sea, hath always been consecrated to Venus; and that love, which every where else is a passion, which hath no particular privileges, is in this place accounted a religious act. All that are borne here, seem as if they were bound to love from their very birth; all the Temples are dedicated to Venus, under several names; all the pictures and statues here, represent only this Goddess, and depend only upon her. You shall find here Cupid set out every where, and those who instruct us elsewhere virtuously in our youth, by teaching us how to overcome our ambition, anger, hatred, envy, and all other passions; deal otherwise with us here, persuading us only how to love innocently. But as there is nothing so pure or refined, which meets not with alteration and corruption at the last; a strange disorder crept in long since amongst us: for you must know the first Temple which was consecrated unto Venus, was that of Venus Urania, who we say, is the daughter of Heaven. This Venus, as we believe, inspires only rational resentments, and virtuous passions: whereas on the contrary, there are some Temples on the utmost borders of the Isle towards the South, built long since the former, which are dedicated unto Venus Anodema, as much as to say, to Venus coming forth from the foam of the Sea. Now Sir, these Temples do differ very much, as do their resentments, who offer sacrifices at them; yet as those Religions wherein Libertinism passeth for a virtue, are grounded with most ease, the Religion of Venus Anadiomena, hath for a long time prevailed over that of Venus Urania; and our Island hath seen things which makes those even blush with confusion, who remember they have heard them spoken of by their forefathers: but thanks to Heaven, a virtuous Queen, who lived some sixty years since, did re-establish all the Temples of Venus Urania; made almost all those of Venus Anadiomena, be beaten down; abolished all the shameful customs which were introduced in Cyprus, and left only pure resentments amongst us of that passion, which is the soul of the Universe, and which is the sole entertainer of civil society. We are now taught 〈◊〉 love our Goddess, our Princes, our Laws, our Country, our fellow-Citizens, our Parents, Brethren, wives and Children; and lastly, to ourselves, to the end that we may do no shameful act. We are taught also to love Glory, Sciences and Arts; to love innocent pastimes, and to love beauty and virtue above all that hath been spoken of: in fine, we are taught that he who loves not, is not rational; and that not to have a sense of all these aforementioned things, is to be very much to blame. You may easily imagine then, that this being a belief generally held amongst us, the Court of Cyprus must needs be a pleasing abode, since every one there loves handsome actions, and handsome personages. True it is, that according to the rules of Venus Urania, the love by her permitted, is so pure, so innocent, so free from having any thing to do with the senses, and so free from fault, as she seems to suffer us to love others only, that we may make ourselves become the more lovely, through our care of meriting true glory, of becoming accomplished, and of getting that Courtly Air, and pleasing conversation, which is only inspired by love. This Sir, is the present condition of our ●sland; all delights are here, but all innocent. Love is the predominant, and universal passion in it, but such a passion, as is not incompatible with virtue and modesty, and which hinders not many lovers from complaining of their Mistress' rigour. Public feastivals are here frequent, conversation free enough, but wholly spiritual, games for prizes very usual, pleasing Balls, excellent Music, and Women in general infinitely handsome, full of gallantry, and perfectly virtuous. But of all the rest, the Princess of Salmis, sister to Philoxypes, was the Court-Star, till such time as she withdrew herself from thence. The Princess of Agharista, now Princess of Sicily, is also very taking, and the famous Artaphil doubtless bears a great renown. To boot with these, there is one called Timoclea, and an hundred others, of somewhat a meaner condition, which are wonderfully handsome. But Sir, lest I may prove too tedious, I will briefly tell you that the King who now reigns in Cyprus, is but two years elder than Prince Philoxypes, who is descended from the Race of Demophon, son to Theseus, who is held in great esteem amongst us. Philoxypes in his younger years, you may easily judge was one of the loveliest personages which could be seen; for though he be now twenty eight years old, he continues to be so extraordinarily handsome, and so well behaved, as it may easily be guest what he was when a child; and though he were wise even from his cradle, and knowing, even from the time he began to speak, yet ceased he not to be of a pleasing humour, and comportment, such as is only infused by youth, and the air of the Court, and which is the charm of conversation amongst Ladies. In fine, set one article aside, Philoxypes may be truly said, to have fully satisfied and made good all the precepts of Venus Urania.  
He reverenced the Goddess, he loved his Prince, kept the Laws, he loved his Country, his fellow-Citizens, was ambitious of glory, which he went in quest of at fifteen years of age in the Milesian War, wherein he gave singular testimony of his carriage. He loved the Sciences, and all the liberal Arts; delighted in innocent pastimes, and loved virtue above all things; but as for beauty, he had only a general admiration for it, and never felt in himself any particular addition or adheration to any whatsoever handsome Lady. You may imagine Sir, how strange this sensibility appeared in a Court where it met not with any example, and in a man so fit to occasion love. Yet was he so lovely, as he was not for this the less beloved; he was so liberal, so magnifical, so full of complacency, and so civilly behaved, as he was the wonder of the world.  
When Solon after having established those famous Laws at Athens, went from thence, resolving to forgo his country for ten years, to the end that he might make no alteration there, he came to our Court; Philoxypes, who was then but eighteen years old, had a great affection for him, as he had likewise for Philoxetes; insomuch, that as long as Solon abode in our Isle, Philoxetes gave over all his other delights, and the frequenting of the Lady's companies to fasten himself totally to him: whom that he might enjoy with the more freedom, he carried him to a Town of his which is called Apia; built by Demaphon in a very strong, but rocky situation, and of hard access, all the Country about it being craggy, dry, and exceeding barren. Solon being come thither, showed him how that they that laid the foundations of that Town, might have made it much more pleasanter, if they had built it upon the banks of the River Claria, in a spacious and fertile plain, which lies at the foot of the Mountain, where the other Town was situated; hardly had Solon spoke his thought, when Philoxypes resolved to put it in execution and began already to give all necessary orders for it. And indeed Solon was the Architect who guided this great enterprise, Philoxypes giving him the glory thereof, for he called this new Town Soly, to perpetuate the memory of the name of Solon. This place being not far from Paphos, one of our King's most usual abodes, they went oft to the Court; where our Ladies complained sometimes of Solon, who by bereaving them of Philoxypes, bereft them of their fairest ornament; and to show you how great this Prince's inflexibility was, Solon whose virtue is not austere, to justify himself to those that blamed Philoxypes for this, telling him that love was a passion which sweetened all other passions, and which did sometimes exceed them all. That for his part, he confessed he would never set his whole heart against it, & that he thought it no shame to be once in his life overcome thereby. Philoxypes said in his defence, that he loved all that was lovely, that he had a passion for all beautiful objects, and that no man ever loved so much as he. But notwithstanding all his universal affections, there was no one so fair in all the Court, who could boast in her particular to have inthralledhis heart; & who peradventure had not more than once consulted with her glass, to know by what innocent art this so famous heart might be taken: but at last, after having stayed a good while, Solon went his way much taken with Philoxypes his virtue, and made some verses in his praise before he embarked for Egypt. He who was commended by all Greece, did highly commend this young Prince, saying, that Nature had taught Philoxypes in eighteen years, what Art could not teach in an Age, and that a man might see in him by way of prodigy, all the ages of man put together; that is to say, the innocence of infancy, the charms of youth, the fortitude of a more advanced age, and the wisdom of old age. After his departure, Philoxypes was somewhat melancholy, but this humour being over, he spent some time in travel, and did not only see whole Greece, but likewise the famous City of Carthage, which did then wage war with the Massilians, who inhabit a place which they have of late made famous, by a cried up Academy, wherein eloquence, and all the Grecian Sciences are rarely well taught.  
I will not relate unto you all the gallant actions he did in Africa, nor what befell him during that Journey, which continued till some months before you came to Cyprus; where Solon stayed awhile again, not suffering himself to be seen almost by any one. But I will tell you that Philoxypes at his return to Court, charmed all the world; and that the King himself grew so far in love with him, as never was known so great a favour as his, nor yet so little envied; neither did he make use thereof, but for his Master's glory, and to do good to as many as he could; he received no rewards, but to enrich such as stood in need thereof; all the advices he gave, were good; he did none but good offices: and thus he stood fair in the opinion of the great ones, and of the people, as well as in that of the King; and there were none but our Ladies who continued to accuse him of inflexibility. Thus did he live amidst delights, in the stateliest and most gallant Court of all the world, without envy, without love, and without melancholy. But the King was not this mean while so happy as he; for after having had some flitting passions, which had notwithstanding much disquieted him, he fell mightily in love with the Princess Aretephile, who certainly is very beautiful, and hath an hundred good qualities; but who with all this was extremely ambitious. The King was no sooner aware of the violence of this his passion but that he discovered it to Philoxypes, and entreated him to intercede for him with Aretephile, who at that time did often visit the Princess Agharista, sister to Philoxypes. You may imagine this Prince did not refuse to assist him, since his affection was innocent; yet did he sometimes crave pardon of the King, if he did not much bewail him in his disquiets: For Sir, said he, love being a malady which I am not acquainted with, and which I have much to imagine is so great, as man would have it thought, I confess I do not so much compassionate your Majesty, as peradventure I ought; and consequently, I may perchance not so fully exaggerate your sufferings as I should do, when I speak with the Princess Aretephile. Fear not Philoxypes, said the King, that I complain of your inflexibility; on the contrary, if you had a more tender heart, I would not have chosen you for the confident of my passion: and did I think that you could become my rival, I would not give you Commission to speak so often with my beloved Princess. But my intention not being to speak of the King's love, otherwise then as it relates necessarily to Philoxypes adventures; I will only tell you, that though Aretephile were ravished to see herself beloved by the King, yet aiming at the Crown of Cyprus, she thought she was a little to disguise her sense thereof, and to make it a harder matter for the King to win her, than she had found it to win the King: So as this Princess behaved herself with much discretion and reservedness, and mingling continually severity with mildness, the King stood long in need of Philoxypes assistance, whom Aretephile, who knew what power he had with the King, used with all possible civility. Philoxypes was notwithstanding sometimes much troubled at the continuance of this passion, which made him for his recreation, go to a very stately house, which the famous Solon had caused to be built for him near Soly, and wherein he had made a collection of whatsoever Greece had of most rare and curious, were it either for pictures, or statues. In this place it was, which is called Claria, where wondering sometimes at the King's passion, he did me the honour to bemoan himself to me of his employment, and he himself gave me a thousand pleasant marks of his inflexibleness, by those things which he uttered against love. This mean while, though the King were much in love with Aretephile, yet he had somewhat to do to persuade himself to marry her, because indeed, in reason he should much rather have married the Princess Thimoclea, by reason of some claim she pretended to have to the Principality of Amathusa; Insomuch as the King being yet unresolved what to do, had not as yet acquainted Aretephile, nor let her be acquainted that his love tended merely to set her upon the Throne; but only following the custom of Cyprus, he had sufficiently witnessed his service, and to purchase her esteem, had done whatsoever a handsome and ingenious Prince seconded by Philoxypes, could do, who though he were himself insensible of love, was notwithstanding a very great gallant; so as Aretephile who was absolutely resolved never to part with her heart for less than a Crown, treated the King sometimes severely enough, insomuch as the whole Court was troubled thereat, and Philoxypes delight lay only in Hunting, and in his stately Countryhouse. Some other times Aretephile fearing lest she herself might extinguish the fire which she had kindled in the King's heart, was somewhat more kind unto him, and by the Prince his Joy, rejoiced the whole Court. 'Twas then in one of these pleasant conjunctures of times, that Philoxypes to oblige the King, made the Princess of Salamis his sister, and the Princess Agharista, do him the honour to entertain the King, upon a day that he invited the King and all the Court, to go from Paphos to Claria, and to pass one whole day in his retiredness, which indeed deserved to receive so Princely a company. Never was there so gallant an Assembly as this; It was wholly composed of young and handsome personages, of great birth, and understanding: and one would have said, that fortune had favoured Philoxypes, in ordering it so as that all persons of Quality who were peevish or of ill humour in the Court, were either sick that day, or busied about some important affairs, so as this well compacted company was not troubled with the importunity of any of their companies: On what side soever they did cast their eye, they met with nothing but goodly objects, there was no fear of being wearied or annoyed, Philoxypes had taken such excellent order for all things; were it either for the stately furniture of the House, for the magnificency of the Feast, or the excellency of the Music, as the King to give him the highest praise he could, said aloud, that if Philoxypes had been in love, and that his Mistress had been in that company, he could have done no more than he did. On the contrary, Sir, said Philoxypes, I think that if I had been in love, all things would have been much more in disorder, than they are; it seeming impossible to me that a man should lose his reason, and yet have leisure enough to think of such trivial affairs. The King began then to oppose Philoxypes, and to tell him, that he did little know the effects of this passion; and this he did more than once, as well for that he could hardly find a more pleasing entertainment by discourse, as also that by reproaching Philoxypes with his ignorance of love, he thereby found an opportune means to make the Princess Aretephile, who listened unto him, know that the passion he had for her, had made him very expert therein. Philoxypes did defend himself the best he could; Sometimes he said the fear of not being beloved kept him from loving; sometimes that he had so nice a soul as did avoid such pleasures as could not be purchased without pain; and consequently that love not being a voluntary thing he was not to blame for that he did not love: and for his last reason, he said that the difficulty of the choice made him that he neither did, nor could resolve on any; for Sir, said he to the King, how is it possible to have the affrontednesse to prefer any one of so many handsome personages as I see before all the rest? Ah, Philoxypes, said the King, the more you speak of love, the more pity do you move in me; and (speaking low in his ear) the more said he, do you make me see that my Confident will never be my Rival. After this, all the Ladies, and all the men of Quality, began to argue the matter with him; he did sometime almost hate them all for their reproaching him with his inflexibility. When they had dined, Philoxypes led all this fair Assembly into a stately Gallery, painted all over by the hand of an excellent Master, named Mandrocles, who is of the Isle of Samos, and who having finished this rare work, some few days before this great Feast, was returned to his own Country.  
The story of Venus Urania, was the subject of all those pictures, in whom nothing but modesty was to be discerned. The Painter had not drawn the Graces all naked, as they usually are drawn, but had clothed them in transparent Tiffeny, which rendered all those figures very delightful: In one of the draughts, you might see Venus descend from Heaven in a Chariot, all of burnished Gold, drawn by Swans; a thousand little Cupids seemed to hover about her, and to be the first that lighted in the Isle of Cyprus, which is represented in the same piece, to prepare all things to receive her: In another piece, all those little Cupidons, erected unto her an Altar of Turfs, and made dress of flowers to adorn her: In another piece, this goddess teacheth Cupid how to choose his golden shafts, which he meant to use; and in another, she put a Torch into his hand, and showing him the Sun, which is painted at the top of that piece, seems as if she would tell him, that she would have the flames wherewith he sets hearts on fire, to be more pure than the beams of this glorious Constellation. In fine, Sir, this goddess is represented in above twenty parts of this Gallery; but though in different postures, you may still discern the same countenance. Though all in this Gallery be beautiful, this Figure is incomparably beyond all the rest: all the rest are pictures, but this seems to be effectually a divine Personage; for certainly there was never any thing seen of so much handsomeness; all the fair Ladies who Philoxypes had brought thither, were amazed to see it, and maugre themselves confess that their Glass showed them nothing like it. All their eyes were fixed upon a face so full of beauty, and they all agreed in one, that the Painter's imagination had far outdone what ever Nature had done of most accomplished. After they had well eyed this Venus, for my part, said the Princess Aretephile, I would fain know whether Philoxypes heart could resist a personage who should perfectly resemble this picture? Since I have been able (replied he) to behold all these Ladies that are here, without daring to profess my service, it is to be believed, I should be as insensible for her, or rather as full of respect for her, as I have been for all the rest that I see, who are no less fair than this Venus. 'Tis not notwithstanding (said he smilingly, and without any other design, then to say somewhat of gallantry to entertain conversation) that I am not glad that this picture is only the effect of the famous Mandrocles imagination. For I confess unto you, there is a certain charming, modest, and passionate air in the eyes of this goddess, which would peradventure please me too much, were it a living beauty. Philoxypes had no sooner said this, but all the company began to smile at this first mark of his tenderness, which they had never before observed in him. There was not any one of them who would not willingly, if it had been possible, have inspired life into this picture, that they might see whether Philoxypes might be bend by her or no; and whether his rebel heart to love, would prove proof against her extraordinary charms. If this could be, said Princess Thimoclea, I wish at least that this fair personage, should have as much sweetness in her foul as in her eyes, to the end that nothing might be wanting to Philoxypes happiness. On the contrary, said the Princess of Salamis, me thinks it were to be wished, that (to punish my Brother for his inflexibility) she were as cruel, as fair; and I doubt me, added Aretephile, whether for his greater punishment, she were not to be wished to be proud and stupid: or rather, said Princess Agharista, inconstant, fickle, altering her humour every day; and for his yet further punishment, added the King smilingly, that she were all that you all have said. At these words Philoxypes desired so much favour of them, as that they would suffer him to enjoy that quiet which liberty bestows on them who possess her: But the Sun being already low, he mentioned a walk to this fair company, who without resistance gladly accepted thereof. He led them into a large plot of ground, which makes an Island; for he had drawn a branch of the River of Claria round about it. Passing from thence over a little bridge, with ballasters of brass, he led them into an Ally of Orange Trees, twelve hundred paces long, which the Sun could never get into, so large are those Trees, and so thick covered with leaves and flowers. Amidst this Ally there crosses a Channel of running water; at last you come to a place where eleven Allies cross one another; at the end of which, the River is every where seen, as if it were so delighted with that place, as it were loath to leave it. All these Allies are either of Orange Trees, or Citron Trees, or Myrrh, or Laurel, or Pomegranates, or Palm Trees: but after being come to the end of one of these Allies, into which Philoxypes sent them, they found themselves in a large Meadow, which is cut thorough in the middle by the River, which gathered together in that place, seems to be a great Channel, which hath on its Banks neither Canes, nor Rushes, nor Reeds, nor little Shrubs, but is only bordered by thick Turf, and all besprinkled over with Flags of differing colours, with Narcissus', with Lilies, and all other flowers, which love moisture and freshness. There are likewise on this River, great store of Swans, which swim so demurely, as you would think they were afraid to trouble the water which bears them up: and that there might nothing be wanting to this entertainment, Philoxypes had so ordered it, as this River was all covered over with Boats, made like Galleys, painted with lively colours, and guided by young Boys in Maratin apparel, but very handsome; who rowing gently with Oars painted red and green, came to the bank to receive this gallant company, who were played unto on rustic Music by young Shepherds very quaintly clothed, who drove herds along that Meadow on the other side of the River. Their Shepherd's crooks were all trimmed with brass guilt over, and strewed over with cypers; their Flutes and little Bagpipes were as well decked as were their sheep, all whose horns were loaded with flowers. In divers parts of this Meadow, were a hundred lovely Shepherds, clothed in white, with hats of roses, who to make the place the more pleasing, mixed the melody of their voices to the rustic Music aforesaid. So sweet a place being doubtlessly proper to infuse joy, and pleasure, being no disposition to cruelty; the King found Aretephile a little more gentle; and all the worst treated lovers of this company, found at least some truce to their sufferings, and were maugre themselves delighted with so lovely a place, which was bounded about by a very high Pallesade, wherein Niches placed at equal distances, were statues of white Marble, the rarest that were ever seen in Greece.  
But I may seem to be myself enchanted in a place so full of charms, since I stay so long thereon: I must then haste to make this fair company depart, whom Philoxypes waited on back to Paphos, after having offered them a famous banquet. Some few days after, being returned home, with intention to entertain himself alone there for two days, he spent all that time very contentedly: But Philoxypes his humour lying rather to like general beauties, wherein art hath nothing to do, than those where art undertakes to perfect nature, went out of his Park, and unaccompanied by any save one servant, he went to the River side, intending to walk along it till he should come to the head thereof, which is not far from thence, and which certainly is one of the goodliest things in the world: For this miraculous Springhead, which of itself makes a River, is enclosed by Rocks of an unaccessible height; at the foot of the greatest, and highest whereof, is a large cave which extends itself even to the loss of sight, both on the right hand and on the left, under unaccessible Rocks. At the bottom of this Cave, is a silent spring, which sometimes riseth up to the top of the den, and sometimes falls so low, as it is not above five or six foot high. This inequality is the cause why the River of Claria, as well as all the others of Cyprus, pass rather for a fair Torrent, then for a River; though this be not positively so, for it is never altogether dried up, as are all the rest. As he went towards this Cave, he got off horseback, leaving his horse with his servant, commanding him to wait his return, and not to follow him.  
Thus did he walk all alone, along these Torrents, with the sight and noise whereof, he he was much delighted, when raising up his eyes, he might see some twenty paces off, a very handsome woman, though in mean habit, who was sat upon a Rock, all covered over with moss; and who seemed to take pleasure in eyeing attentively the fall of waters which came rushing at her feet, as if to do her homage. At first Philoxypes thought not to trouble the contentment of one whose humour was so conformable to his, to sit musing upon the River side, and to turn a little aside, that he might not interrupt her. But being come a little nearer, and seeing that her apparel though clean, and handsome, gave her not out to be a personage of quality, he went directly towards her, because that was the easiest way. But being come very near her, and the noise his walking made, having made this woman look about, he was strangely taken; not only to see the handsomest creature in the world, but to discern perfectly that, that miraculous Venus which he had in his Gallery, and which he had always taken only for the effect of a handsome imagination, was really the picture of this personage; Philoxypes, ravished at this so strange apparation, changed his colour; and saluting this maid with more civility than her condition seemed to require, he advanced yet nearer her; but she rising up in haste, and having not without a blush paid him his salute, as if she had been troubled to be seen alone in that place, she hasted to go unto an old man and a woman well advanced in years, who were not above twenty paces off her; yet fearing by like to be followed, she turned her head twice towards Philoxypes, who was still the more dazzled with her beauty, and more confirmed in his opinion. This Prince surprised at this encounter, had a great desire to know who this young and so wonderful handsome maid might be; and to know also how Mandrocles could come to draw her picture; and why Mandrocles had always told him, that the picture which he had drawn, was only an effect of his fancy: He followed her with his eyes as far as he could; but having stood still a pretty while, not knowing why he did so, he lost sight of her amongst those Rocks after she was come up to those she went unto, so as he could no more discover her.  
Philoxypes did not overmuch endeavour it, though his mind led him very much thereunto, but coming near the River side, instead of continuing to walk towards the Spring head, he went down the stream; and were it by hazard, or out of design, he happened to rest himself upon the same Rock covered with moss, on which he had seen the fair maid fit. Philoxypes being there, could think on nothing, but on this fair unknown one, and upon the pleasing adventure which had befallen him. He then remembered the discourse which had passed in the Gallery, and what he had said of that picture which every one so much commended; and delighted to entertain himself upon this subject, how glad said he unto himself, would Princess Aretephile be, if she knew what had befallen me, and how would the King mock me if he heard it? They would certainly say, that the Goddess had wrought a miracle to punish me, by making me meet with a Country wench, of whom to make the object of my choice. But said he, presently after, this Country maid is fairer than whatsoever there is of beauty in the Court; and I shall sufficiently revenge myself of all our Ladies, if I can once more meet with her, and let them see her. He then resolved to return the next day to the same place, and in the mean time not to speak of her till he had found her again. He then returned home, but full of amazement; at his first arrival, he went straight to his Gallery, and grew so confident in his belief, that his Venus Urania was the very picture of this fair unknown one, as he doubted no more thereof. He compared all the features of this picture, with the image which he bore about in his mind, not finding any difference between them save that the original was far above what ever Mandrocles with all his art, could represent. He seemed to have observed in her face, a much more pleasing youthly air, a much more majestical modesty, and a sweetness infinitely more alluring. In fine, the Prince Philoxypes, who had wont to be more in his Closet, then in his Gallery, perceiving that the sight of this picture detained him there, whether he would or no, went forth much perplexed to see that once in his life time, he could not master his affections. He passed the rest of that day, and all the next night, not being able to eface this pleasing phantasm out of his mind. The next day he returned to the same place where he had seen that fair one, still thinking how he should be pleased to cause her to be seen by the King, and the whole Court. But though he went up the River, even up to the head thereof, he could not find her; he sought her long in vain; and being angered thereat, he sought whether he could not find some little tract about that place where he had seen the fair unknown one; but it being all Rocky, no impression of footsteps could be seen there, nor could there be any tract found amongst the Rocks. Desperate then, as he was, not to find any knowledge of what he so much desired, he returned back, absolutely resolving not to return any more to that place: yet was he no sooner at home, but that he wished to be at the River side; he enquired of all his servants, if they had never met any body thereabouts, which resembled that Venus; and asked them very particularly, in what places, and into what houses Mandrocles went when he painted with his Gallery? They answered, that they had never seen her whom he spoke off, and that Mandrocles was a solitary man, who saw no body, who spent all his time in designing amongst those Rocks; and that he took almost always the way towards the head of Claria. Philoxypes not able to learn any more, did what he could to think no more thereon; but though he had resolved to return next day to Paphos, he stayed at Claria, (for his house bears the name of the River which passeth by it) and whatever design he had, never to return to seek out the fair unknown one, his feet maugre himself, bore him always towards the place where he had met her. He returned often from thence, not knowing why he would not willingly go thither, nor why he went thither, not having any thought of so doing. But at last yielding to his curiosity, he returned towards those Rocks, resolving to suffer himself to be guided by fortune; leaving always his servant and his horse where he left them the first time.  
He wandered then long amongst those Mountains, when being weary, he sat himself down, which he had hardly done, upon a neighbouring Rock, when he might discover afar off a little Cottage, in a place which appeared very savage unto him: so as rising up, it may be, said he unto himself, 'tis here where the Gods have hidden the Treasure, which I seek for. And indeed he had not walked far, when he saw the fair unknown one, accompanied by the same old man, and the same woman which he had formerly seen, and by three or four others all meanly clothed, which seemed to take a by-way which led to a little Temple, which lies towards the Sea side, and which was built for the accommodation of strangers, who traffic in that Island, and land on that side. The Temple not being above six furlongs from this little rural habitation, 'twas but a walk to go thither on foot.  
Philoxypes ravished at this encounter, went towards them; and addressing his speech to the old man, after having saluted, and looked on the fair unknown, with more admiration then at first; Father, said he, know you who they be that live in that little house which I see yonder amongst the Rocks? Sir, said he they are people who merit not the honour you do them in speaking to them; nor do I know how my cabin should cause curiosity in a man of your condition.  
Whilst the old man spoke, Philoxypes had his eyes fixed upon the fair unknown one so attentively, as he made her blush, and forced her to turn her head aside; he willingly would have spoken to her, but that (as he told me afterward) he was afraid to ruin himself in so pleasing an enchantment; and that he would find as much rudeness in her conversation, as she had sweetness in her eyes; to boot, that he saw her to be so modest, as he easily imagined she would not speak long unto him in her parent's presence, (for he perceived she behaved herself as if she were the old man's daughter) he enquired also of the good old man, if he went oft to that Temple? whether his abode there had been long? whether he were of Cyprus, or no? whether that were his whole family? and a hundred other things to continue the conversation. To all which, though the other answered exactly, Philoxypes did hardly hear any thing he said; and thus they parted, after he had ta'en his leave of them all, hardly knowing what he said.  
Not having learned any thing, but that he had once more seen the fair unknown one, that she was much more lovely than he had thought her to be, that he knew her abode, and the Temple whither she sometimes went. He pursued her with his eyes as far as he could; but at last being ashamed of what he did, and seeking a reason for it, he returned back the same way, and went into his Gallery, it being the only place in all his house, wherein he pleased himself. When he was come thereinto, he began to walk with more disquiet than he had wont to be acquainted withal. And far from his former design of bringing the fair unknown one to the Court, he did as far as in him lay, put on a resolution of never seeing her more himself: so much was he affected with this second sight.  
To this purpose, he went forthwith out of his Gallery, got on horseback, and returned to Paphos; the King who loved him dearly, and who had as much of friendship for him, as of love for the Princess Aretephile, complained of his so long abode in the Country, and made as much of him as could be. He immediately entreated him to visit the Princess Aretephile, because there had been some little quarrel between them, which he acquainted him withal, making the most he could of it.  
Philoxypes obeys him, visits the Princess, and makes them friends: but let him do what he pleaseth, or go whither he will, his thoughts are still busied about the fair unknown one; he compares her with all the beauties that he sees, and whether he behold Aretephile, Thimoclea, Agharista, or whosoever else, he can see none but his sister, the fair Princess of Salamis, who comes any way near her for beauty; but he preferred the other a thousand times before her, as being a thousand times more beautiful than whatsoever the world hath of beauty. Two days after he returned to Claria, and the next day he went to the aforesaid little Temple, whither those that were of the Island went seldom or never, it being only built for strangers.  
And this was the reason wherefore the beauty of the fair unknown one, had not been noised abroad, neither in Apia, which is not far from thence, nor in Soly, which is very near it, nor in Claria which joins upon it. Philoxypes, then maugre himself, went thither, whether he was no sooner come, but he saw the fair maid still accompany with the same company, who devoutly prayed to the Goddess that is there adored. In fine, Sir, to keep that no longer from you, which Philoxypes had much ado to acknowledge to himself, this last sight fully conquered him; for the sacrifice being somewhat long, love had time enough to fasten him with his chains not to be untied. You may believe it had been easy for Philoxypes to have spoken to this maid, as she came out of the Temple, and to have followed her home, if he had pleased; but though love had already gotten the upper hand in his heart, yet had it not driven out shame from thence. And Philoxypes did me the honour to tell me afterwards, that he was so ashamed of his own weakness, and of the meanness of this maid's condition as he sometimes wished to be dead.  
This little assembly being gone, and he being returned home strangely perplexed, what said he to himself, is it possible that Philoxypes, that unflexible Philoxypes, who could never be wrought upon by all the fair Ladies of Cyprus, should be in love with one born in a Cottage, bred up amongst Rocks, and savage people? Ah, no, no: it cannot be. I would rather rip out my heart, then suffer it any longer to retain so mean, and so unworthy an affection. But (said he presently afterwards) there is somewhat of Divinity in supreme beauty, which is not to be resisted. And if this unknown one be more fair than all the Princes of the world, she better deserves the love of the inflexible Philoxypes, than all they do. Yet I am sure, said he, when the wise Solon told me, That a man might without shame be once in his life time overcome by love; he understood it not to be by the love of a shepherdess, as doubtlessly she is— at these words not having power to end his speech and say, Whom I love; shame stopped his mouth, and for awhile he said nothing.  
Then suddenly reassuming his speech, No, no, said he, Solon would not approve the folly which possesseth me: For in fine, to love a person so beneath ones self, a person, whose name one is afraid to ask; one to whom one hath never spoken, and to whom I dare not speak, for fear of finding her mind unworthy of her beauty, one who peradventure will not understand my language, who peradventure hath neither virtue nor goodness, and whom the Gods have endowed with extraordinary beauty, only for my confusion, and to make me despair; once more it cannot, it must not be; so dreadful an evil must be early withstood; and as there are some venomous whose mischief is only cured by themselves, the fair unknown one must cure me of the malady she hath caused in me.  
I must once more see her, and speak to her, to the end that the blemishes of her mind, and her rude conversation, may drive that beauty from my heart, which her charming beauty and pleasing eyes hath placed there. But good Gods, replied he unto himself, is it possible so fair a personage should have any defaults? Think Philoxypes what thou wilt do; and fear lest whilst you think to find a cure for your evil, you render it incurable.  
Thus Philoxypes reasoned with himself, who in effect resolved to go the next day to the Cottage, where the fair unknown one dwelled, with intention to speak unto her, and so to cure himself, imagining that his shame to see himself in that Cottage, and the maids gross conversation, would infallibly salve his passion. But he knew not that 'tis an usual effect of love to make those who are in love, make use of all pretences, whereby they may come near those whom they love, not knowing themselves why they go thither.  
Philoxypes failed not then to go the next day towards the rocks, at foot whereof according to his custom he left his servants: But as he went, he was much disquieted; sometimes he wished this young maid might neither have wit nor attraction; and by and by, desired again he might meet with nothing in her which might detract from her beauty. In fine, not knowing whether he desired to be sick or cured, whether he would be free or a captive; and not knowing also under what pretence to make this odd visit, he marched on till he came to a little Valley, seated between Rocks, stolen as it were from the world, and very fit, to say the truth, to hide so infinite a precious treasure. At the foot of this little Valley, there lies a pleasant Meadow; and upon the side of these Rocks, a little Wood of Myrtle, and wild Pomegranates, intermingled with some Orange Trees. At the bottom of this Wood, there stands a little House very low built, but in indifferent good repair: As Philoxypes drew near it, his troubles re-doubled, and he was almost tempted to turn back, so ashamed was he of his weakness. But at last being forced on by love, he entered into the fore-Court of this house, closed in with Laurels no higher then ones elbow, which are very common in this Island. At last seeing a door open, he came into a little Chamber, decently, though but meanly furnished; in which he found a fair unknown one, and two other women who made Garlands of flowers, intending to carry them the next day to the Temple, and give them to the Priest who lived there, to adorn the Victim, which was to be offered, there in sacrifice. You may imagine, how much astonished this young maid might be, to see such a one as Philoxypes enter her Cabin, who is always richly clothed, and who as you know, is of a very stately behaviour; she no sooner saw him, but rising up in haste she let all her flowers fall, thereby affording Philoxypes occasion of commencing conversation, who stooped down to gather up the fallen flowers: Sir, said she, endeavouring to hinder him, pray trouble not you self, for our Woods and Meadows abound in the like, so as I may easily repair this loss, if these were spoiled. Those which your Woods and Fields produce, said he, are not of such worth as these, which I restore you, because they have not been gathered by so fair a maid as you. Sir, said she, blushing, the Goddess to whom I intent to offer them, will look more upon the intention of my heart, then upon my face, which certainly hath nothing in it, which may occasion you to speak as you do. But Sir, said she, (not giving him leave to interrupt her, to the end she might change the discourse) you have perhaps somewhat to command my Father, who will be very much troubled than the is not here, that he might have the glory to obey you: but he is gone forth with my Mother, and will not return till night.  
Philoxypes hearing her speak with so much judgement, and such civility, he having at most expected nothing but innocency, and simplicity in her conversation, had hardly the power to answer her. He beheld her with admiration, and listened to her with astonishment; he observed a decent negligence in her apparel, and her tone of speech so excessively charming, as he was ravished; she spoke not only Greek, but with all the Attic purity, and Courtly smoothness; her action was moreover infinitely becoming, having nothing in it, neither of affected, nor yet of Clownish. He found such modesty in her looks, and so lovely a freshness in her complexion, as he had hardly liberty to reply; yet after some strive within himself, 'tis true, fair maid, said he, I had somewhat to say unto your Father, but till such time as I shall see him, give me leave to ask you why he makes choice of so solitary an abode. Sir, said she, such is my respect unto him, as I never informed myself of what you desire to know; but I have sometimes thought that this place is not of his choice, and that he lives here, only to fit his mind unto his fortune, which not having destined him a Palace, hinders him not from thinking himself happy in his Cottage.  
But is it possible, said he, that this austere solitariness should not seem tedious to you? Sir! (replied she with a modest smile) you will doubtlessly think me very rustic and savage, when shall dare to say, that the only trouble I have met withal amidst these Rocks, since I have lived here, is that wherewith I am now possessed, to see you in a place, where I use not to see any one; and where certainly I would not see you, were I in a condition to do otherwise; it not appearing seemly to me, that one of your condition, should busy himself in talking so long with such a one as I am. I should be very unhappy, said Philoxypes, if should have offended you, or have appeared too importunate: but lovely personage, tell me I beseech you, your name, and your Parent's name, and tell me what God or Goddess 'tis that comes to instruct you in these Woods? Sir! said she, my name is Policrite, my Father is called Cleanthes, and my Mother Megisto; but as for those Gods which you say do teach me, they have as yet taught me so little, as I am ignorant even of civility: to witness which, I shall take the boldness to say, that since those on whom I depend are not here, I shall desire you not to take it ill, if I entreat you not to tarry any longer in a place, wherein you will find more of incommodity, then content. I shall not alter my mind, replied Philoxypes for what you say, but must once more affirm, that doubtlessly the Gods have in a moment inspired you, with what others have much ado to learn in their whole lives. For that you should be the fairest maid in all the world, and fairer in a Cottage, than Queens are in their Palaces; though this be very much, yet it is not impossible, but that living amongst Woods and Rocks, you should behave yourself, and speak as you do, 'tis this fair Philocrite, that I cannot comprehend; nor can I imagine that you were born here amongst these savage Rocks; 'tis true, Sir, said she, I am not of this Island by birth; but was so young when I parted from Creta, as I hardly remember any thing thereof. 'Tis true, the conversation which I have here, cannot have given me the accent of the Country, for I speak with none but those of this family, who are no more of Cyprus then I.  
What, Policrite, said Philoxypes, do you spend your whole time without speaking, and yet speak as you do? Once more, this Cottage is unworthy of you; and some means must be found out to draw you hence. I am so well contented here, Sir, said she, as I should thereby receive an injury; and I imagine you have no such design; therefore I conjure you to leave me in that solitariness that you found me; for neither will I say much more unto you, not being able to speak any thing of mine own experience.  
Philoxypes, who observed that this young maid was indeed troubled to see him tarry so long with her, though it were in no dis-obliging manner, was loath to anger her; so as with much violence used upon himself, after having saluted her with such reverence, as if she had been upon a Throne, he offered to be gone. But, Sir, said she, with much candour, you know my name is Policrite, and I cannot tell my Father what his name is, that hath done him the honour to inquire after him; replied this Prince, transported with love, my name is Philoxypes. Alas, Sir! answered Philocrite, I beg your pardon, if I have not used you with such respect as I ought. Is not then, said he, my name unknown unto you? No, Sir, said she, and I have heard my Father, though he knows you not himself, say such things of you by the report of others, as I am sure will make him rejoice exceedingly when he shall know that you will do him the favour to command him any service. Philoxypes, enchanted to hear Policrite speaking in such sort, said unto her a thousand passionate and obliging things, if she would have understood them; to which she still replied with such readiness and modesty, as he still became in love with her more and more.  
He then took his leave of her, and departed from this Cottage, with an unconceivable sorrow; being come to the same place where he first saw her, he stayed; and beholding on the one side his goodly and magnificent Palace of Claria, and on the other side this little Country Cottage: Ah, Philoxypes, cried he, who would believe, that in the condition thy soul is in, thou canst prefer this unlucky Cottage before that stately Palace? and that thy heart so insensible of love, and so ambitious of true glory, can abase itself before Policrite's feet? But then, said he again, is it possible that Philoxypes should love any thing which is not the handsomest thing in the world? And if it be so, Policrite ought to be the object of his desires and love. I say, Policrite, in whose looks is no Art, whose words are sincere, all whose thoughts are innocent, who knows not what a sin is, whose heart is not prepossessed with any passion, who as yet loves nothing but the Woods, Fields, Flowers, and Fountains; who is hardly conscious of her own beauty, and whose inclinations are doubtlessly all virtuous. But when all is done, said he, after a little pause, love is a weakness, from whence I have till now defended myself, only because I did verily believe, that it was handsome not to be capable thereof; but to love a personage of so unequal birth, is a folly, which I ought by all means to withstand. For in fine, with what face shall I dare to appear at Court? How fair soever Policrite be, I dare not show the irons she makes me wear; they must either be broken by force, or so cunningly concealed, as no man may ever discern them.  
With this resolution did Philoxypes return home, and from thence to Paphos; but he was so possessed with melancholy, as he was forced to fain himself sick. The King, who saw him that very night, both with himself, and with the Princess Aretephile, perceived his perplexity, and pressed him to know the cause: But Philoxypes answered him as he had done the rest. The Court was very great that day, and all that was gallant, was there; which occasioned Philoxypes in his rave, to inquire of himself an hundred and an hundred times, why, since he was to love, it was not some of those illustrious personages? Yet though he would use violence upon himself, and endeavour to love by reason, he could never compass it. And Policrite's image was so deeply imprinted in his heart, as nothing could deface it. He passed over three days thus with very much disquiet, and on the fourth maugre himself, he returned to Claria, and from thence to Cleanthes, whom at his first approach, he found leaning upon a little palisado of Laurels, which encompassed his Court. As soon as this wise Old man saw him, he stepped unto him, and received him with such Civility as had nothing of Rustic in it. Sir, said he, I thought my Daughter had been deceived when she told me your Name, which kept me from coming to Claria to receive your Commands; to boot, that 'tis hard to imagine, that a Man of my Fortune and Age may be any ways serviceable to such a Prince as you. Virtue and Worth, said Philoxypes, makes friends unto itself of all Ages, and of all conditions. But Cleanthes, the only thing I desire to know of you, is whether it be out of necessity, or out of choice, that you inhabit this little House? for, if it be the former, you shall not tarry long here; and if the latter, I will come and live with you sometimes; at which Cleanthes smiled, and said, Poor Cottages, Sir, are no proper abodes for great Princes. 'Tis very true, said Philoxypes, neither aught great Worth to be confined to little Cottages, but doth much better become great Palaces: I therefore proffer you my House Claria, where you and your Family may live more commodiously than here. Sir, replied Cleanthes, 'tis handsome for a personage of your condition and worth to be willing to relieve the distressed, but it were not just to abuse that goodness, which may be better employed on some better occasion. For, in fine, Sir, I suffer no want in this Cottage, my mind being no greater than it; I here live in quiet; and finding in this little corner of the earth sufficient to keep me from being troublesome to any body, I live here much more happily than those who live in Palaces, and whose desires are not therein bounded. But wise Cleanthes, said Philoxypes, will you not tell me what Fortune 'tis that hath brought you hither, and acquaint me precisely with your condition? Sir, said the good Old man, I am descended of honest Parents, of an indifferent Fortune; for mine, you see it is mean enough, and I assure you my worth is not extraordinary. I was forced to forgo my Country, for many reasons, too long now to tell, and to seek out a place of Retirement in this Island, where I have lived a good while; but said Philoxypes, are you not afraid lest Policrite, who may justly be termed a Treasure, may not be safe in such a place as this? if I should grant, answered Cleanthes, that Policrite should be what you say, since this Treasure is only known by Prince Philoxypes, I should think it safe enough; you have reason, Father, said he, for what you say, for I engage myself to protect you, against what, or whosoever shall go about to injure you. After this Cleanthes led him into his House, where he found Megisto, Cleanthes wife, who received him so Civilly, as he easily discerned that there was nothing of Rustic nor savage in this family. She had by her young Policrite, and another maid handsome enough, whom Policrite called Sister, and whose name is Dorida: But, good Gods, how fair did Policrite appear to Philoxypes that day? Her hair which hung careless over her neck, and which were the one half covered by a thin Tiffany, were tied back behind her head, with a Garland of Orange and pomegranate flowers, over which hung a thin Veil, with which she covered her Face when she went in the Sun, and which very well became her Dressing: The rest of her Apparel was white, of a handsome shape; her Sleeves, which were very large, were trust back with Ribbons of several colours; and though there was nothing of stately in this habit; and that instead of Pearls and Diamonds, she was only decked with flowers, yet was there somewhat of so handsome and so comely in her dressing, as she never appeared so fair to Philoxypes, the more he saw her, the more he was in love with her; and were it that he entertained Cleanthes, that he spoke to Megisto, that he addressed himself to Policrite, or that he said somewhat of civility to Dorida, he was still more and more taken. What did he not do to make them tell him somewhat more than Cleanthes had told him, and to persuade them that he might fit them with a better Lodging? He offered Cleanthes Jewels to dispose of at his pleasure; but let him do what he could, he could learn nothing, nor obtain nothing, save only leave to come and visit them sometimes, which they granted him, merely because they knew not how to deny it him. I will not stay to tell you how frequently Philoxypes returned thither during twelve Day's space which he stayed at Claria, without returning to Paphos; but I will tell you, that Cleanthes, who had understanding enough, & Megisto who wanted not any, easily perceived that it was Policrite's beauty which occasioned this Prince his so frequent Visits, he read her a long Lesson, and wished her to have a care of herself, and that she should consider that Philoxypes his affection could not but redound to her prejudice: and that therefore she should live with him, as with one whom she should never look upon but merely with respect, not suffering him to engage her in any particular affection. This mean while Philoxypes, who perceived he should never have the Freedom to speak to Policrite in particular, unless it were by chance, came so often thither, as he met her once unaccompanied by any save the young Dorida. This being too fair an occasion to let slip, he drew near unto her, and expressing much Love in his looks, Think not, Policrite, said he, that I have any thing of miss-becoming to say unto you, though I have diligently watched to entertain you alone; 'Tis only that not knowing how you will receive my affection, I was not desirous to have any witnesses of my misfortune or happiness. Sir, said she, with a Maidenly-blush, before you speak, consider I beseech you where you are; mark well the Cottage wherein I live, and see what clothes I wear. No, Policrite, replied he, I see nothing but your Eyes, and had you a Crown of Diamonds on your head, I should no more mind it then what you speak of; so firmly are my looks fixed upon your Beauty. Permit me then, Sir, said the discreet and fair Maid, to teach you another thing, which it may be you are ignorant of, and which ought to keep you from saying any thing of unfitting to me. 'Tis, Sir, that this very Policrite, whom you see in this Country Cottage, who is thus simply attired, who is only known to these Woods and Rocks hath notwithstanding her meanness and simplicity, so tender a sense of Honour, that should you offend her never so little therein, she were able to die for sorrow and dislike. Be careful then, Sir, to say nothing which may make Policrite believe, that you know her not; for, in fine, she hath such a passion for Virtue, as she should have much ado not to hate those who should say any thing unto her in opposition thereunto. Fear not, said he, fairest Policrite, that I shall say any thing to you, which shall offend you, at least, which should offend; for I protest unto you in the presence of the gods, who hear me, that the passion which you have for flowers, fountains, and for these enameled fields, is not more pure, nor more innocent, then that which I have for Policrite; and if there be any difference between them, 'tis that the affection which I bear to her, is so violent and strong, as there is nothing which I shall not willingly undertake to witness it unto her: You cannot better do it, Sir, said she, then in doing me the favour to say no more such things unto me, which will only serve to trouble the quiet of my life, since if I should not believe you, I should certainly be somewhat troubled to think you would laugh at my simplicity; and if I should believe you, I should almost despair, for being the cause why a great Prince should contract a passion so unworthy of him, and from whence he can never reap any advantage.  
For in fine, Policrite knowing herself, and knowing you also, would not herself commit a fault, nor yet cause you commit one for love of her; do not therefore engage yourself Sir, in so angersome an adventure: Let me alone (said she, looking upon him with an eye, which did rather detain him then drive him away, though it were done without art) let me alone I say, amongst our Woods and Rocks, and get you to your Palaces, where you will be much better than here. Philoxypes was astonished to hear Policrite speak thus, when throwing himself at her feet, No, no, divine Policrite, said he, you are not what you appear to be; and though you were so, yet would your virtue place you in a degree above all the Queens in the World. Sir said she, raising him up, think not that I am to be won by flatteries; for though I know not the World by mine own experience, I know it by my Parent's relation. I therefore know that love is a dangerous passion, and not knowing precisely what it is, I know it ought to be avoided; and that I ought rather to apprehend that love which you say you bear me, than any other. And wherefore, Policrite, said he, do you thus treat that innocent passion, which you raised in my heart? Because said she, it cannot be but injurious to Philoxypes, or to Policrite. But say for God's sake said he, suppose that Policrite were a Princess, or that Philoxypes, were of the same condition that Policrite is; what would you then think of him? I cannot tell said she, but this I know Sir, that though I should esteem him never so much; nay, though I should love him very much, Cleanthes and Megisto should always absolutely dispose of me. Say then said he, if they should be favourable, would you without any repugnancy obey them? Sir said she, smiling a little, I have been so told that I must not lightly trust any one, as I think it not convenient to reveal so great a secret to you. Hereupon Cleanthes and Megisto returned, and broke off their discourse; Philoxypes presently observed that these two persons were troubled at his visits; he therefore resolved not to be so frequent in them, lest he might for ever lose a happiness, which now he might sometimes enjoy. Thus, Sir, Philoxypes after some short discourse departed, and returned not only to Claria, but to Paphos, whither the King had also sent for him; not being able to let him be so long alone and solitary, all the Ladies, and the whole Court complained of him, and could not comprehend the reason of his so long retiremement; The King continued to give him new testimonies of his affection, by bestowing on him the government of Cythera, which was fall'n void by the death of the former Governor. He acquainted him with what had befallen him during his absence, with Princess Aretephile, and conjured him to speak always to her in his behalf. For said he, Aretephile hath taken a fancy to be sure of the Crown of Cyprus, before she give me her heart, and I will have her give me her heart, before I give her the Crown. Philoxypes promised the King to speak to Aretephile, but it was with such sadness as all the Court took notice of it. He did almost always little better than rave, he would mistake, and say one thing for another, he shunned company, and as soon as he could, he returned to Claria. He found more resistancy in Policrite, than he thought to have met withal; for she, fearing all things, durst hardly look upon this Prince; the difference of his condition, though it made her more obliged unto him in her soul, yet was it the reason why she treated him so coolly. Philoxypes would have presented the whole Family, but they all refused to receive any. This mean while he was still more unhappy; for though he loved Policrite passionately, and that he valued her more than all the world besides, yet could he never put on a resolution of making any one acquainted with this his so meanly placed passion: He would certainly have been able to live with Policrite in any desert Island; but he knew not how he could avow the marrying a Maid of her condition, to the world; yet did he still love her with a respectful affection, not giving way to any sinful desire: That pure and unartificial virtue which he saw in Policrite, infused into him a greater respect for her, then if she had been seated on a Throne; he than perceived he loved, without hope of ever finding a remedy for his evil, upon lesser terms, then resolving to abandon the Court, and Kingdom, and to ask Policrite of Cleanthes upon so vexaatious terms; but that which most of all afflicted him was, that he knew not how he stood in Policrite's affection; he found her mild and civil, he observes no marks of hatred in her countenance; but there was therein also so great a reservedness, and so exact a modesty, as he could not penetrate her thoughts: He thought also, that Policrite was grown somewhat more melancholy than she had formerly been, and indeed he was not mistaken, for Philoxypes his handsomeness, his good behaviour, his wit, and civility, being things not to be seen without liking; young Policrite could not see herself beloved of such a Prince as he, without having her heart a little touched with acknowledgement; yet seeing herself in a condition so far beneath his, and out of a sense of virtue she must resist this budding affection, she could not but be afflicted at this conquest which she had made; and to bemoan herself thereof to her dear Dorida who had wit enough. Sister, said she unto her, how happy are you in comparison of me, who can take pleasure in walking abroad, in gathering of flowers, in hearing birds sing, and the fall of waters, and in not being reduced to a condition of complaining of too much good fortune: For in fine Dorida, Philoxypes heart is a conquest which I am sure the greatest Queens would be proud to have made; yet whilst they might innocently rejoice thereat, I must be therewithal afflicted: I could wish I had never seen him; or at least I think I could: For when all is done, though me thinks I could heartily desire that he would love me no more, yet am I glad to see him. But if love, replied Dorida, be so powerful a thing as it is said to be, how know you but that Philoxypes may love you well enough to Marry you? Ah sister, answered she, as I would do nothing misbeseeming me, so neither would I that Philoxypes should do any thing that might misbeseeme him to do: But, said Dorida, belike than you love Philoxypes, since you interest yourself in his honour, against yourself. Policrite blushed at this discourse, and looking confusedly upon Dorida, if you were better acquainted with this passion than I, said she, I would tell you whatsoever my soul is sensible of, to the end I might know what to think of it; But I cannot yet believe that this dangerous disease be yet got into my heart; for if you remember well, we have heard Cleanthes say, and we have read it more than once, that love makes one lose their reason; that it causeth a thousand pains, and vexations, that it sometimes makes people do amiss; and I thank Heaven, I do not yet feel any of all this; Me thinks my reason is free enough, and I am well enough pleased with the melancholy which possesseth me: For 'tis true, I oft times talk I know not what, but I delight in doing so; and though I would not love Philoxypes, yet there are certain moments wherein I am well enough pleased that he should love me: But as for any thing of fault, so far am I from being willing to commit any, as I protest unto you, that were it for no other reason, than not to lose Philoxypes his esteem and good opinion, I would die a thousand deaths rather than do any thing that should be unjust. You may then believe, that whilst I love virtue, and would become worthy the affection of so great a Prince, I will never do any thing contrary to reputation. I believe you, answered Dorida; but for all this Sister mine, you deceive yourself, if you believe you love not not Philoxypes: For in a word, you do not love what you loved before you knew him, you are somewhat more comely, you consult oftener with the Crystal fountains, and you are quite another thing than you were. Ah Sister, replied Policrite, if that were true which you say, I would quickly take order for it, I would never see Philoxypes, but to use him harshly: to the end, that he hating me, I might no longer love him. These two young people having entertained themselves thus upon the bank of a little rivulet, Cleanthes and Megisto, who had altered their minds, came thither; and bidding Dorida withdraw a little; Megisto began to say; Policrite! it is not many days since I told you, that in respect of your condition, you should never look upon Philoxypes, but with a great deal of respect; but fearing lest through that inequality which you may believe to be between you and him, you may not appear to be so much obliged to him for his affection, as indeed to put somewhat too great an estimation thereupon: Cleanthes and myself have resolved to tell you, that your true condition considered, you are not bound to behold Philoxypes at any time, but with a great deal of indifferency: For in a word, said Cleanthes, not to disguise the truth from you any longer, you are what you think not yourself to be, and we are likewise that which you know not, and what you shall not as yet know; because the Gods have not permitted us as yet to let you know it: But to show you how much you are more obliged than you think for, to be virtuous, know Policrite, that you are of as Noble blood as any is in all Greece: And how answered Policrite, interrupting him am I not what I always thought to be? No daughter said he; to number Kings amongst your Ancestors, is not the greatest mark of honour that you make boast of. There is somewhat of more August in your race, than what I speak of: Therefore that I might raise up your heart, I thought it good to trust you with this important secret, (which I charge you not to reveal to any one) as also to let you know the better how much bound you are not to do any thing unworthy of your Father's house, nor of the condition you are borne in. Policrite was exceedingly joyed to hear Cleanthes speak after this manner, though her joy was not over quiet; for she was in trouble to know more precisely what was told her. Father said she, leave me not in such perplexity; tell me a little more plainly, I beseech you, so pleasing a truth, and let me know who I am.  
The Gods have forbidden us it, my daughter, answered he, by the mouth of an Oracle: you must be content with what you have heard: but make use thereof to defend yourself against Philoxypes love; and far from looking on him, as on a Prince who hath done you too much honour: look rather on him, as on one whom you shall favour by your permittance.  
This is not, said Cleanthes, to deny, but that Philoxypes is endowed with all the virtues and qualities requisite for a great Prince; but 'tis, my child, to let you know, that there is a certain pride which doth not misbecome a young maid to defend herself thereby against love, when we have an esteem; for those that are above us, 'tis hard to gainsay, if they entreat. And on the contrary, when we believe them to be beneath us, or at least but our equals, we stand not much upon denying them unjust things. Policrite assured then Cleanthes and Megisto, That though she had known nothing of what they now had told her, she should never have done any thing contrary to that decency which she had learned of them. But how much were they mistaken, if their design were to hinder Policrite from loving Philoxypes.  
Sometimes she was filled with joy, to know that she was of Noble descent; and afterwards, being willing to make use thereof; to drive there by the beginning of affection which Philoxypes worth had already raised in her, out of her heart, she found it the more fortified by this knowledge. For said she, the knowledge of what I am, doth not take from the obligation which I owe him; since he knows not that I am any thing more than what I seem to be.  
But for me, who now know what I am, why should I not hope that the Gods permitting Philoxypes to know my true condition, may not so order it, as that I may love him and be blameless, and be beloved by him innocently? No, no, Policrite added she, let us no longer defend our heart any longer with such opiniatrecie; let us content ourselves with concealing our resentments, and do nothing that shall be faulty: and let us not reject, as a mischief the love of a Prince, to whom the wisest King of the world would not refuse to give his daughter. But it may be, said she, that Philoxypes doth but counterfeit, that he hath sinful thoughts towards thee, and that thy simplicity abuseth thee.  
Stay then, said she, to be resolved herein, and make trial of his constancy and fidelity, by an appearing indifferency, which may leave him without hope.  
Thus was Policrite minded, when Philoxypes came to her as soon as she saw him she began to go towards her Cottage; but he, advancing hastily, stayed her; yet not being above twenty paces from it, and there being two of her womenservants at work in a Close hard by them, she stayed. What, Policrite, said he, you eat a Prince, who shuns all the world for love of you? Sir, said she, (after somewhat more an imperious manner then before, though she intended not so to do) I do what peradventure you ought to do: For in fine, what advantage can you hope for by your visits and solicitations? The contentment said he, to hear from your fair mouth, that you do not hate me: If that be all you desire to be satisfied in, replied she, you may easily compass your desires; but ask no more, upon pain of refusal. What, lovely Policrite, said he, will you never love me, and shall all I can do to win your affection, prove useless? no, 'tis impossible, were you as insensible, as those pictures which I have of you. My pictures, replied Policrite? Yes, added Philoxypes, I am not so unfortunate as you think for; in despite of you, and without your consent, I have the contentment of seeing you daily.  
Ah! said Policrite, I perceive Mandrocles hath 〈…〉 etrayed me, and hath falsified his word. Philoxypes asked her then, how she came to know Mandrocles? She told him how that famous Painter walking daily when his leisure would permit him, amongst those rocks to draw some landscapes, had one day by chance light upon their house: where, having seen her, he had begged leave of Cleanthes to draw her picture, which Cleanthes would have refused him, but that seeing his importunity, he was afraid lest he might speak of her to him at Claria, and that therefore he gave way unto his desire, upon condition that he should not make use of this picture, in any of his pieces, but as of a head made by fancy and imagination, and making him take a solemn oath, never to speak with any body whosoever, of any acquaintance he had with them. That since that time, as long as Mandrocles tarried at Claria, he came to teach her to design, and had drawn her picture in twenty several postures. She then enquired of Philoxypes, whether Mandrocles had spoken to him of her, or no? And he told her the whole truth: but you may perceive, said Philoxypes, that the Goddess whom you represent, intends not that you should always be inhuman, since she would herself appear in your visage.  
Sir, said she, not being of your Isle, my devotion leads me rather to be a Votaress to Diana, then to worship Venus Urania, therefore it is not this your reason that will prevail with me: to boot, that his Goddess approving only of such passions as are innocent, will certainly never counsel me to admit of yours. Verues self, replied Philoxypes, would advise you to it; and did you know my heart, you would need no other Councillor than yourself. It would take up so much time, replied she, to make me know it, as I shall advise you not to undertake the work. But said he, if I do undertake it, and if I make it evident to you, that never man loved any thing as I love you, what will you then think? I would think, said she, that you were very unfortunate, in having so passionately loved one, who is unworthy of so much honour. But said he, would you think yourself any ways obliged unto me? I should be sorry for you, said she, and would wish your cure either by absence, or by forgetfulness.  
Ah! cruel maid, said he, wish it rather by your compassion and charity; and promise me only that you will afford me leisure to persuade you, that I am the most in love of all men. To do as you say, said she, would be to be somewhat persuaded thereunto already; therefore (and with this, she walked towards her Cottage) I will listen no longer to you. After this manner did Philoxypes pass away his time; having but very few moments of delight, amongst many hours of anguish.  
This mean while, he could not endure to tarry at Paphos, and when he went thither, all he could do, was only to visit the Princess Aretephile, which the King compelled him to do; but he appeared so melancholy, and so changed, as he was hardly to be known. The King, who loved him dearly, was much afflicted to see it; he together with the whole court, sought what might be the occasion of this alteration; but they could not find it. The King, asked it of Philoxypes self, but could learn nothing. Philoxypes answering always, that it was some melancholy, which proceeded certainly from his temper, and from some little indisposition of health.  
But said the King, solitariness is no usual cure for such incommodities; wherefore you ought not to go any more to Claria: Yet affairs went still on thus, yea even when Winter was come, which did the more astonish the whole Court; they knew he built no more at Claria, that the Painters and Engravers, who had been so long there, were all gone; that the season was foul; that when he went thither, 'twas but with a small train; and that he walked always alone: they saw a strange sadness in his face, and a wonderful alteration; and all this without any appearing cause. The King heaped favours and honours upon him; he asked him an hundred times, what he would desire of him: he had not any one enemy; the whole Court loved him; he was exceeding rich; he appeared not to have any sickness, as the Physicians could perceive: In fine, his melancholy and retiredness, were things which could not be guest at. The whole Court talked of nothing else; and the King was strangely troubled at it; who, not knowing how to inform himself of what Philoxypes ailed, he be thought himself of me, whom he knew this Prince did love particularly, and in whom he did more confide, then in any other.  
Thus upon a day, when Philoxypes was gone to Claria, the King sent for me; and after having assured his Majesty, (as it was true) that I knew nothing of particular concerning this Prince his melancholy, he did me the honour to command me to go to him, and to use all my cunning to discover what it was that was in his mind: For, said he, Leontidas, I do so love Philoxypes, as I cannot live content unless I see he do so likewise, and were it to give him half my Kingdom, I would doubtlessly do it, rather than not to give him satisfaction.  
I then departed, really intending to endeavour to satisfy the King's curiosity, who certainly stood in need of Philoxypes presence, to counsel and comfort him concerning Aretephiles behaviour; for I think there was never known a stiffer combat between ambition and love.  
I went then to Claria where I found Philoxypes in his usual melancholy; the which I made the greater, because I hindered him from going that day to Cleanthes. At first sight of me, he endeavoured notwithstanding, to enforce himself to honour me so much, as to seem glad to see me; but it was after a fashion, which made me easily see that his heart gainsaid his words; and that notwithstanding any friendship he had for me, he wished I had tarried still at Paphos.  
Leontidas, said he, I am much beholding to you for coming to visit me in a season, when the Country hath lost all its ornaments; and when the Court is fullest of diversions.  
Sir, said I, you commend me with less reason, than the Court complains of you; for to forgo Paphos for Claria, when you are there, 'tis to forgo the Court, for the Court; nay, for the most pleasing part of the Court: but to forgo Paphos, only to seek out solitariness at Claria, as you do, Oh, Sir, said I, (not suspecting him notwithstanding of any passion) 'tis all that a Prince in love, who is upon bad terms with his Mistress, can do. Philoxypes blushed at these words, and looking upon me with a kind of smile, which did not, notwithstanding drive the melancholy from his countenance; I perceive, Leontidas, said he, I am not so much beholding to you, as I had thought, since doubtlessly you are come hither rather to chide me, then to visit me.  
I am come, Sir, said I, to try whether I may not be able to serve you in a time when all the world believes that somewhat of great importance, which they cannot guests at, doth afflict you. Leontidas, said he, I am much bound to you, but I should be so more, if you could hinder the Court from looking so far into my heart. For I confess said he, I find it somewhat hard that a man may not look inwards sometimes, though whilst he does so, he is hardly master of his own mind.  
Sir, said I, were you less beloved, you would not suffer under this persecution which you complain of: This kind of Love, replied he, causeth in me no small suffering: For what can I more rationally do, then to conceal my Melancholy in a retiredness, to the end that I may not trouble the joy of others. But Sir, said I, 'tis the cause of this Melancholy which every body seeks after, and none can find: as for my particular, I must crave your pardon if I do. For Sir, 'tis not ambition that torments you. No, Leontidas, said he, if I were sick of that disease, the King would quickly cure me. Neither is it revenge, said I, for not being hated by any, it is not to be believed that you are possessed with hatred. You have reason for what you say, said he; and sighing added, I think I am mine own greatest enemy. It is not said I again the passion which you have for books, for that passion may cause solitariness, but not such melancholy as you are possessed withal. And moreover, you have had that passion a long time, without the product of so bad an effect. It is not books, certainly said he, which cause my trouble, which were I capable of reason, would rather be my comfort. It is not Love said I, that torments you, for you see none that can cause it in you. Conclude then, said he, taking me in his arms, that there is no more to be said, but that I hate myself, that I have lost my reason, and if my friends be wise, they will let me alone, and will leave the knowledge, or cure of my malady, to the process of time.  
Sir said I, shall Leontidas, who hath so particular an affection for you, be dealt withal as others are? shall he have known nothing more of your concernments, then do your enemies, if any such you have? Ah, Sir, said I, you must if you please do otherwise, & to prove to you that Leontidas doth in some sort deserve you should do so, know Sir, that hitherto I have spoken unto you as a spy, sent by the King, who will know at whatsoever prcie, what 'tis that afflicts your mind. But after having bootlesly acquitted myself of my commission, I speak no longer Sir, as one sent by the King, but as one who is resolved to serve you with his life, if it shall be needful; and never absolutely to give you over till he know the cause of your Melancholy: for Sir, if there be no cause of this Melancholy, and that it be but a distemper of humours, I must stay here, that I may endeavour, maugre yourself, to divert you; and if there be any cause for it, Leontidas must likewise serve you therein, if there should redound no other benefit to you thereby, then to help you to keep it concealed from the King, and from the whole Court, if you desire it should be concealed from them.  
I do not know any way, said he, to keep it undiscovered better, then to tell it to no body.  
But Sir, said I, if you treat me with this indifferency, when I shall return to Paphos, and the King shall ask me what I think of your Melancholy, I must needs say something to him.  
And what will you say to him, replied Philoxypes? I think Sir, said I, that to revenge myself for the little confidence you have in me, I will say what I do no ways believe, to wit, that you are in love; and that the shame of you former inflexibleness, or of your new weakness, hinders you from avowing it: nay, I will peradventure tell him, said I, in mockery, that that Venus Urania, which people have so much quarrelled with you about since the great Feast which you made here, and which did precede but a few days your melancholy humour hath struck you effectually in love. In fine Sir, there is nothing so odd, which I shall not say to revenge myself for the wrong you do the passion which I have to your service.  
During this discourse, Philoxypes changed colour twenty times; and were it out of friendship, or out of my importunity, or that indeed those that are in love, love naturally to speak thereof, he took me by the hand, led me into his Cabinet, and after having made me take sundry solemn Oaths, never to discover what he should say unto me; and all this with as much ceremony, and pressure, as if he had some conspiracy to discover unto me against the state, or some attempt upon the King's person; he told me that he was in love.  
What Sir, said I, these retirements, these Melancholies, and this impenetrable secret, which all the world in vain seeks to find out: Is it only that you are in Love? Ah, Leontidas, said he, mock not at my misery; for it is greater than you can imagine. But Sir, said I, I have much ado to imagine that you can be so unfortunate as you say, since I cannot conceive that there is e'er a Princess in the Kingdom (except Ambitious Aretephile, who will be Queen) who will not favourably entertain your affection, when you shall make it known unto her. Alas! said he, with a sigh, Love hath dealt much more cruelly with me than you are aware of; and since I must discover unto you the secret of my heart, know that I have met with an invincible resistance in one who lives amongst these Rocks, and dwells but in a Cottage.  
Yes Leontidas, I have found a maid, or to say better, I have found Virtue itself, wholly pure, and under the visage of Venus Urania, which hath, and doth yet resist me. A maid who is not touched with Ambition; in whom beauty causeth no affectation, nor pride; who hath simplicity and wit, gallantry and sincerity; and who in a sandy and desert place, which the gods alone have pointed out unto me, speaks better than all the wittiest Ladies in the Court.  
But when all this is done, she lives in a Cottage, her condition appears to be very mean, if I consider all that is about her; and when I consider only herself, or do but hear her speak, she appears to be upon a Throne: Her Governors are virtuous, and discreet; but still Leontidas they live in a Cottage, and will not abandon it. At last, said he with tears almost standing in his eyes, I am the most unfortunate of all men: I have a passion which I cannot overcome, and which I will not have known: I too much respect Policrite's worth (for so is she called of whom I speak) to have any sinful desire towards her, which though I should have, it would be to no purpose: I likewise am too great a lover of Glory, to resolve to marry a maid of this condition without much repugnancy; Yet can I not live without her: my sufferings are such that I cannot express them; and seeing no remedy for my Malady, I bear it patiently without complaining of it, and void of all hope but death.  
Philoxypes told me this in so feeling a manner, as I much pitied him: He than told me all that had befallen him: How 'twas he met Policrite, how he was surprised, that it was she by whom Mandrocles had drawn the picture of Venus Urania, and all the rest which I have told you. I was somewhat surprised at this fantastic passion, chiefly when I called to mind Philoxypes former inflexibleness; Yet did I endeavour to comfort him. Sir, said I, such a beauty as that is which you represent unto me, and such a one as I have seen in the Venus in your Gallery, bears some excuse with it, of what condition soever the possessors are, especially when it occasions only some passing passions, and which are of no long durance, as I will hope yours will prove. No, no, said he Leontidas, do not deceive yourselves; I will love Policrite till death. But Sir, not to abuse your patience, perceiving Philoxypes grievance too great to be cured, I smothered it, and sweetened it as much as possible I could. He then led me into his Gallery to show me his excuse, though I had seen his pictures many times before: we afterwards walked abroad, but he being able only to walk one way, we were soon amongst the Rocks, in a place from whence we might uncover Policrite's habitation, which we no sooner saw, but blushing with confusion, he said, 'tis there my dear Leontidas where she that I adore doth live; 'tis underneath that roof, which I prefer before the proudest Palaces, that Philoxypes finds some moments of content: and 'tis there in fine that all my joy and happiness is circumscribed. Sir, said I, there needs no greater proofs of Policrites beauty, than the smallness of her Cottage; and whosoever shall imagine that Philoxypes affection is placed therein, cannot doubt but that he hath argued the matter with himself as much as he was able.  
In fine, Sir, after that he had enlarged himself in expressing Policrites charming beauty, not suffering me to see her for fear of offending her: I must think of returning to Paphos, for I had promised the King to return that very night. I asked Philoxypes what I should say unto him; any thing said he my dear Leontidas, rather than the truth of my adventure: For in the mind that I am of, I think that I should run mad if the King should know it.  
I than left him after he had made me swear a hundred times, not to discover the least part of his misfortune. I went to find out the king, who expected me with much impatiency, and who had purposely withdrawn himself early, to the end that I might speak with more freedom to him when I should return.  
And how, Leontidas, said he? what doth our solitary companion do?  
Sir, said I, terming him as you do, your Majesty may easily guess at what he does. He muses, he walks, he reads; looks upon his pictures, and statues; goes from one place to another, and seeking ease every where, he finds it no where.  
But Leontidas, said he, you speak to me as Philoxypes doth, and 'tis not that which I expect from you.  
Sir, said I, I have done all I am able to satisfy your majesty; but I confess my journey hath not been so successful as I hoped for: For all that Philoxypes says, is only that he finds himself somewhat ill disposed, and that he is possessed with a Melancholy which he cannot master.  
Did you ask him said the King, whether it were not that he did wish for somewhat which I have not bethought myself to give him, because I knew not that he did desire it?  
Oh, Sir, said I, (thinking I had done well) it is not Ambition that torments Philoxypes, who is so satisfied with your Majesty's goodness, as he desires nothing more than what he hath.  
Have you then discovered, said he, that he hath any thing of private discontent against any one of this Court? For if it be so, I will make his interest mine, and will as severely revenge any injury done unto him, as if it had been done unto myself.  
Sir, said I, Philoxypes appears to be so well beloved of all the world, as 'tis hard to think any one should injure him. I know not then what to imagine, said the King; but if Philoxypes' Ambition be satisfied, and that it is not hatred nor revenge that doth trouble him, he must needs be in Love.  
Your Majesty, Sir, said I, doth too well know Philoxypes' inflexibleness, to suspect any such thing in him. No Leontidas, said he, Philoxypes' past obdurity, is not a Reason strong enough to persuade me that he is obdurate still. I am almost confident that 'tis this passion which robs me of Philoxypes' company; For in fine, he hath all the marks of one in Love. His countenance is altered, he not having been sick; he is melancholy without any appearing cause; he doth little else but rave; he cannot stay long in a place; he conceals his melancholy from us; he cannot endure that one should take notice of it; he gives over thinking of his affairs; he visits none but by constraint, and unless it be the Princess Aretephile, whom he hath seen by my command, he hath not visited any one Lady since we were at Claria.  
Sir, said I, part of what you allege to prove that Philoxypes is in Love, me thinks makes for the contrary: For if he were in Love, he would certainly seek out the party beloved; we should never see him from her: instead of being melancholy, he would study to play the Gallant more, and would be the more sociable: and instead of seeking out solitariness, as he doth, me thinks he should rather add to the Court diversions: and that his chiefest employments should be music, Baal's, conversation, and going abroad.  
You say well, answered the King, for what concerns ordinary passions, or such Lovers as have been fortunate in their affections; but there are certain giddy-headed passions out of the common road, which arising from a melancholy anguish, feed themselves therewithal, and shun whatsoever affords delight. But that which doth a little trouble me, is that I cannot imagine who 'tis that Philoxypes can love, and be hardly dealt withal by, for certainly there is never a Lady in all my Court, who would not glory in having won his heart: and moreover I have not observed that he hath applied himself to converse with any one in particular, yet doubtless Philoxypes is in Love.  
Sir, said I, be not so resolute in your assertion, till you have stronger proofs thereof, and tell you may at least conjecture who it is he is in love withal. The King began then to number over all the Ladies of the Court, one by one, and found not any one of them that he was likely to be in love withal.  
He then began to walk not saying one word: soon after I saw some colour come in his face, and presently, me thought, he was much disquieted.  
Leontidas, said he, you know more than you will tell me.  
Sir, said I, I have said nothing but truth unto your Majesty. For in fine, Philoxypes his ambition is satisfied; he hath no enemies that I know of; and if I be not deceived, the fairest Ladies of the Court have no great power over him.  
Ah! Leontidas, said he, you conceal the truth from me; but I know it without your telling. Yes, Leontidas, said he, Philoxypes doth Love, and so love, as doubtless he is much afflicted thereat, and which he will withstand and overcome: were not my thought true, he would not make his passion so great a secret. But good Gods, said he, how unfortunate am I? and to what strange extremity am I reduced; for in fine, Leontidas, said he, confess the truth, Philoxypes, maugre himself, is become my rival, and his grief for it is the cause of his melancholy.  
Ah! Sir, said I, (not having leisure to think of what I said) I know not the cause of Philoxypes his melancholy; but I very well know he is not in Love with the Princess Aretephile, and that he too much respects your Majesty to suffer such a thought enter his breast.  
Think well Leontidas, said he, on what you say: you assure me you know not the cause of Philoxypes his melancholy, and yet you know he is my rival: once more Leontidas, if you know the business, let me know it: or if you know it not; confess my suspicions are well grounded, and fear not for all this, that I wish any harm to Philoxypes: on the contrary I shall be beholden to him for it.  
I was extremely troubled to hear the King talk thus; for without violating what we hold most sacred, I could not reveal Philoxypes his secret, which he had made me swear above a hundred times not to do.  
To consent likewise that the King should suspect him to be his Rival, me thought it was a business of too great importance to leave him in that opinion; but the more I persuaded him to the contrary, the more firmly did he believe it. No, said he, I am cause of mine own misfortune, and of Philoxypes his misfortune too: 'tis I who made him visit Aretephile more than any other; 'tis mine own hand that has enthralled him, and 'tis I who am the cause of all his sufferings: For, said he, I easily comprehend he seeks out all this solitariness only to rid him out of this passion: nay, I have observed that of late he hath been troubled as oft as I have spoken to him to speak to Aretephile, that he hath shunned such Commissions as much as he could; and I am too much persuaded that he hath argued the business stiffly with himself, and I am the only cause of what he suffers.  
Good gods, said he, how great is my misfortune? there is not any one man in all my Kingdom, whom I should not hate if he were my Rival, unless it be he; and there is not any Lady in the Court, in whose Love he would not have been happy, except Aretephile.  
But Sir, said I again, I protest unto you he is not in love with her; and I protest to you, replied he, expressing an extreme grief, that Philoxypes is my Rival; for were it not so, he would not conceal his passion from me.  
The respect he bears to you, said I, aught to hinder him from so doing, if he were in Love.  
No, no, replied he, you shall no longer abuse me; and I am equally persuaded of Philoxypes his love, of his innocency, and of my misfortune. For in fine, that the man in the world that I love best, should fall in Love with the onliest Lady that I can Love: and that I should see myself cruelly necessitated, either to forsake Aretephile, or to see Philoxypes die, it is an unsufferable adventure.  
Sir, I beseech you, said I, expect till she hath once more seen Philoxypes, and have absolutely commanded him to discover his heart unto her, before you resolve on any thing; and if you please I will bring him hither to morrow morning.  
No, no, replied the King, you shall not stir out of the Palace this day; nor shall you see Philoxypes before me. In effect this Prince gave one of his servants charge over me; and commanded me to withdraw into a Chamber, which was appointed for me in the Palace.  
'T would be too difficult a thing to represent unto you my vexation, and the Kings disquiet: since to tell you true, he had as much friendship for Philoxypes, as Love for Aretephile.  
Who ever saw, said he, (for he himself told it afterwards) an adventure like to mine? I have a Rival whom I must love in despite of me, and who gives me more occasion to love him, for the affection he bears to my Mistress, then for all the service he ever did me; and then for all the good offices he hath done me to her, it being certain that I need only look upon him, to see what he suffers in my consideration; and that I need only consider what life he leads, to see how much I am beholden to him. I observe in his eyes a melancholy, which makes me apprehend his death: and I see in all his actions, visible signs of his love to Aretephile, and of his respect to me. What shall I do, said he? shall I seem not to know this passion, and let Philoxypes die? But 'tis no longer time to conceal what I think, since Leontidas knows it. Leontidas who is so much his confident, and shares so deeply in his friendship: shall I also tell Philoxypes that I know his love, and not complain of him? and if I should complain, how weak a succour would this be? I should peradventure hasten his hour of death, by making him despair. But shall I quit Aretephile, and and let my friendship exceed my Love? Philoxypes his passion is unjust; but passions are not voluntary, and he hath done what ever he could, or aught to have done, since not being able to keep from loving; he hath yet kept from making his love known; and hath rather chosen to hazard his life by his respectful silence, then to preserve it by making his passion known, which he knows will displease me.  
The King past the night in this manner very unquietly: sometimes he was agitated with anger, and hatred, not knowing whom he hated, or on whom he desired to be revenged: sometimes he did a little blame Philoxypes, for not having at the very first acquainted him with his passion: sometime he betook himself to Aretephiles beauty; but at last he blamed himself.  
Then suddenly considering the pitiful condition into which Philoxypes was brought, and what an unhappy life he led, his heart was so touched with compassion, as he did almost love his pretended Rival, better than his Mistress. He then called to mind, how that all the favours he had received from her, had been husbanded, and obtained by Philoxypes his means. He passed the next morning in like perplexity, and strange irresolutions; at last having dined somewhat early, he went well accompanied to lie that night at Claria, not affording me any opportunity to give any notice thereof to Philoxypes; for he into whose custody I was given, thinking it had been for some business of another nature, treated me as a prisoner of the State, and would not give me the least liberty.  
The King commanded me to follow him, so as I came with him to Claria, he not having spoken one word all the way long, but musing still on his adventure: But when we were come thither, Philoxypes' people told the King, that their Master was not at home; and that according to his custom, he was walked out all alone. The King informed himself carefully of one of his servants, who had a long time waited on him, whether he knew not the cause of his Masters melancholy: this servant who loved his Master dearly, that he might make use of the honour the King did him in speaking to him, said;  
Sir, I know not what my Master ails, but this I know, that if your Majesty out of your goodness find not some means to cure him of the melancholy which possesseth him, he will certainly not live long; For he eats little, hardly sleeps at all, does nothing but sigh, cannot endure that one should speak to him about business, wanders whole days in the fields; and I once heard him cry out, when he little thought I did so, Good gods, what would the King say, if he saw how great my sadness is! and how hardly would he guess at the cause of my death?  
In fine Sir, said this man, with tears almost in his eyes, I know not what to say, but I am very certain your Majesty will lose the faithfullest of all your servants, if you lose the Prince my Master.  
Whilst this man spoke thus, I was strangely in pain; for I saw all that he said tended to confirm the King in his opinion: I was much the better for beckoning unto him, he never looked on me, so intent was he to what he said.  
The King on his part sighed, and having left the other, well, Leontidas, you will not have it that Philoxypes is in Love, nor that it is Aretephile whom he loves? Sir, said I, I confess I am still of that belief, and I would your Majesty could resolve to be so too.  
O Unfortunate Philoxypes, cried the King! (not answering me) how sad is this distemper? and how unfortunate am I myself, that I cannot absolutely cure thee of the malady that possesseth thee. I would then have gone to find out Philoxypes, that I might acquaint him with the King's sense before he saw him, but the King would not suffer me: but making the way be shown unto him, which Philoxypes most usually went, we went directly towards the head of Claria.  
Philoxypes was this mean while gone to Cleanthes his house, where the face of affairs was a little altered; for Policrite knowing that her condition was not what she believed it to be, Philoxypes his desert had made a further advancement in her heart then formerly: neither could she so well hide her affection, but that Cleanthes and Megisto were much to their grief aware thereof.  
Yet was Philoxypes ne'er awhit the more happy: for Policrite having ta'en a Fancy to make trial of his affection by an appearing indifferency, did very carefully conceal from him, the affection she had for him.  
And in truth that very day that the King came to Claria, where we missed of Philoxypes, she had caused as much trouble in him, as admiration. For being gone to her, and having found her at the root of a tree, where she was designing out a corner of the Country which pleased her, he began to entertain her with his passion, and to tell her how it grew still more violent upon her.  
Sir, said she, if I may be permitted to do so, I should tell you, That if you desire to win my good esteem, you should do better to tell me, that your passion grows every day more moderate: for to tell you the truth, I do somewhat apprehend these extravagant passions which I have heard spoken of, and which they say, does disorder reason, makes men lose the respect they owe to virtue, though it inhabit in a Cottage, and which occasion a hundred strange things, the very hearing whereof causeth horror; Therefore, Sir, if you would oblige me, you will satisfy yourself with telling me, you have affection enough for me, to wish if it were possible that Fortune had been more propitious to me, that I had been born of a higher condition than I am, or at least this not being so, I might rest content with my own condition, without envying others.  
To love you with indifferency, said Philoxypes, (who acquainted me afterwards with this their conversation) your beauty should be indifferent, your virtue and discretion should be so also: in fine that inexpressible Charm, which I find in every of your words, looks, and actions, ought not to inchant me as it doth: But divine Policrite, apprehend nothing from the violence of my passion; for the stronger it is, the fuller of respect shall I be, and the more obedient to your will.  
Sir, said she, if what you say be true, speak no more thereof I beseech you; for not comprehending that I may lawfully give you any part of my affection, me thinks I ought entreat you to entertain me no longer with yours.  
But Divine Policrite, said he, for whom do you reserve that glorious affection, which you cruelly affirm I shall never enjoy?  
At these words she blushed, and modestly bowing down her eyes, I reserve it said she, for our woods, fields, rocks, and fountains, whereof Sir, said she, smiling, I think you will not be jealous.  
I shall not be jealous of them said he, but I shall envy them, and I shall not easily endure that you should love things to my prejudice, which cannot love you again. But cruel maid, will you say nothing to me of more obliging? and foregoing the Court as I do for love of you, and renouncing what ever is in the world, except it be Policrite; is it possible you should not deal with me a little less severely? I do not desire you to love me, say only that you are not sorry that I love you; and add if you please, that if I be not beloved, 'tis because you neither do nor will love any thing.  
For what's to come, said Policrite, 'tis a thing to which I ought not to answer with such assurance; and as you knew not the day before I had the honour to be known unto you, that you should so oft forgo your Palaces to come to this Cottage wherein I live: how do I know whether the resolution which I now take of suffering no affection to enter my heart, will still continue? No, Sir, we must not trust so absolutely in ourselves; nor can I answer otherwise then for my present opinions.  
Show me then, replied he, what they really are; to the end I may know what to do.  
Sir, said Policrite, having much esteem, and much of respect for you, I must confess I should be sorry that you should love one long, whose condition were not answerable to yours, and that I could not receive a much greater displeasure.  
Philoxypes, who knew not the hidden sense of these words, answered, That supreme beauty had in it, somewhat of Celestial, which did ennoble all those that were therewithal endued.  
In my opinion said she, a certain proportion is requisite in all things to occasion love, therefore do not deceive yourself; and if I were at any time to love any body, it should certainly be one of my own condition: nor should I ever resolve to marry any one that were not so.  
What Policrite! said Philoxypes, much afflicted, do you speak the truth?  
Yes, Sir, said she, and time will make you find it so.  
But Policrite, replied he, you remember not that you are a miracle, and that there are no men of your condition amidst these Rocks, who deserve so much as to look upon you.  
I will then love nothing, Sir, said she, and so she rose up, for she saw Cleanthes and Megisto coming, who much troubled at this Prince his so frequent visits, especially, having observed what they thought they had done in Policrites behaviour, desired him not to give himself the trouble to come so often thither.  
Philoxypes, who was somewhat moved at those cruel words (as he understood them) which Policrite had uttered which made notwithstanding so much for him, could not with his accustomed moderation receive the discourse of Cleanthes and Megisto, but anger might easily be seen in his face, and grief in his eyes.  
Cleanthes, said he, since I come not hitner to rob you of the treasure which the Gods have given you, withstand not the satisfaction which I find in admiring that virtue in Policrite which you have infused into her.  
Sir, said Cleanthes, though I very well know your worth, I cannot but fear lest Policrite, who hath not yet lived long enough to know precisely what bounds to put to the respects she owes you, may be failing in something either to you, or to herself.  
No, no, said Philoxypes, somewhat roundly, you need not fear what you say, you may rather fear lest her severity and yours make me lose my reason. In fine, this conversation, though full of respect to Policrite, was so passionate, as Cleanthes and Megisto were much troubled at it, and Policrites self was sufficiently disquieted thereat, and was sorry that she had spoken so despitefully to Philoxypes. But at last this Prince departed much discontented, and much in love: and as he returned back with intention to get on horse back where he had wont to leave his followers, he met the King who was lighted on foot, and on whom I had the honour to wait.  
You may imagine how much he was surprised at this sight. As soon as he saw the King, striving as much as he could to hide his Melancholy, he mended his pace. And having done his obeisance, Sir said he, your Majesty quits Paphos in a season wherein you are not much accustomed to seek out solitary walks.  
You have a reason for what you say, said the King, but it seems less strange to me that I should come to seek for Philoxypes at Claria, then that I should find him amongst the Rocks. The day being fair enough, though in Winter, the King who could no longer stay from acquainting Philoxypes with what he had in his heart, made a sign to the few that waited not on him to stand off, and commanded me to stay.  
There remained none then with him but Philoxypes and myself; we all stood silent for a good while, and certainly had all of us much differing thoughts. The King seeing Philoxypes so altered, so melancholy, and so perplexed, endeavoured to make his friendship outgo his Love: Philoxypes would have found by the King's eyes and mind, what the King had to say to him, and why he had taken this journey, fearing by the signs which I made, lest he had discovered his passion.  
For my particular, I was ready to go wild, to think I could not advertise Philoxypes, nor durst not tell the King what I knew of his love, whom he took to be his Rival; but at last this long silence wherein every one of us said several things unto ourselves, was first broke by the King, who looking in much obliging manner upon this Prince, embraced him, and said, be not offended that I know the secret of your soul, and that I am not ignorant of the passion which torments you.  
Philoxypes surprised to hear the King speak thus, looked with a blush upon me; & the King imagining (as it was true) that he thought I had betrayed him, looked upon me too: & to punish me (as he told me afterwards) for not having told him the truth, not giving me leave to speak, & not disabusing Philoxypes, In what he had conceived of me: once more said he, my dear Philoxypes, be not afflicted that I have discovered your love, and believe I esteem you never a whit the less.  
Sir, replied Philoxypes, me thinks if your Majesty did know the true cause of my affliction, you should be so good as to bewail me, and not to speak of it.  
No, Philoxypes, replied the King, my goodness shall extend itself much further than so, for you: I am come hither expressly to accompany you in your solitariness: for since I cannot make you happy, I must at least make myself unhappy with you.  
Sir, said Philoxypes, you altogether confound me; take no such resolution I beseech you, leave me to bear the punishment of my weakness alone, believe me I shall infinitely praise your goodness, if you will suffer me to die in peace a midst these woods and Rocks.  
The King touched with extreme compassion, once more straightly embraced Philoxypes, and looking upon him with a very sad look, I crave your pardon said he Philoxypes, if I cannot as yet absolutely yield Aretephile to you: but I am come hither to endeavour to gainsay for your sake the passion I have for her, as you have striven a long time for my sake to suppress the passion which she hath occasioned in you.  
Philoxypes surprised at the King's discourse, felt two contrary agitations at the same time: he was grieved to find his odd opinion, and joyed that he knew not the true cause of his love, as he thought he had done. And believing that he might easily disabuse him in a thing so false as the former was, he resolved to continue the concealment of his true passion.  
The King then had no sooner said what I have told you, but Philoxypes stepping back a little, said, what Sir 〈◊〉 does your Majesty suspect me of so much boldness as to be your Rival? Confess, said the King, for I know your misfortune hath been such, as not to be able to resist Aretephiles charms. But Philoxypes, I blame you not for it; 'twas I that first made trial thereof; I know how inevitable they are; you have done more than I myself should have done: it may be had I your Part to play, I should have betrayed my master, instead of resolving to die of grief and sorrow, as you have done for my sake. Thus Philoxypes, I am not displeased with you for loving Aretephile.  
Sir, said Philoxypes, to witness unto you that I am not in love with her, I promise you never to see her more, nor yet ever to come within Paphos, or at least never to speak to that Princess.  
I very well know said the King, your Generosity rather leads you to resolve on death, rather than to be failing in your duty. But Philoxypes, to the end you may not object unto me, That I have done nothing to vanquish myself, I am come to stay at Claria, as well as you, that I may endeavour to cure myself of this passion, and to yield up Aretephile to you. You on your side shall do the like, and he that is first cured, shall surrender his part in her to the other.  
But my dear Philoxypes, said he, you are yet more unhappy than you think for, for when I should cease to love Aretephile, you would not have won her heart: you know how ambitions she is, that her soul is only sensible of greatness: and when I should have yielded up my mistress to you, unless I should also yield my Crown unto you, you would not win much upon her inclination.  
But in fine said he (not affording Philoxypes leisure to answer him) if I yield up Aretephile, to you, it will not be hard for me to yield you up my Crown. And in a word, I will not be upbraided with your death.  
I will do what I can to cure myself, to the end that you may cure yourself; and if we can neither of us cure ourselves, we will at least die together.  
Sir, said Philoxypes, I vow by whatsoever I hold most sacred, and most holy, that I have not the least pretence to the Princess Aretephile.  
What then said the King, who did not believe him, is the cause of your retreat and Melancholy? I confess Sir, I was a hundred, and a hundred times ready to break my word which I had passed to Philoxypes; but seeing the trouble he was in, and that in fine he could not resolve to tell the King the truth, I withheld whilst Philoxypes answered, That what his Majesty did command, did not deserve his curiosity, and that he could not tell it him.  
Being by this time late, we returned to Claria, where the King spoke still after the same manner to Philoxypes, as Philoxypes did also to him. Having found a moment of time to entertain Philoxypes alone, I would have persuaded him to have acquainted the King with the truth; but he could never resolve to do so, saying it would be sufficient to let him see he was not in love with Aretephile, if he should never see her more.  
This mean while, the more obstinacy and grief the King found in Philoxypes, the more did he compassionate him, and the more he laboured to overcome his own passion.  
And to this purpose he stayed eight days at Claria, all which time Philoxypes was ready to go mad, as well in consideration of the King's opinion, and more for that he could not get to see Policrite.  
I do not think the King would so soon have left this retiredness, had he not been advertised that an Ambassador from Amasis' King of Egypt, was come to Paphos, which forced him to return. But Philoxypes, do he what he could, must needs go along with him: Not said the King, I will not see Aretephile, without seeing you at the same time. The Melancholy which I shall see in your eyes, must be to me an Antidote against the Charms which I shall see in hers.  
We went then to Paphos, but good gods how little delightful was the Court then, and how much troubled did the Ambassador find the King, who was three days without seeing Aretephile, and Philoxypes being in unimaginable pain for the above said reasons, seemed to grow still more Melancholy, whereat the King was still more and more afflicted.  
Ambitious Aretephile was this mean while not without her perplexity, as well by reason of the King's journey to Claria, as that he came not to visit her; and for that she heard he was returned wonderfully sad.  
But at last the King desirous still to confirm himself in his belief, brought Philoxypes with him to Princess Aretephile, hoping to discover his passion better there, then in any other place.  
Philoxypes, who thought there was no better means to undeceive the King, then in letting him see that he took no pleasure in looking upon this princess, was still careful to look another way; but that which he did to dis-deceive the King, did the more deceive him: for said he to himself, unfortunate Philoxypes cannot endure the sight of her whom he loves, and whom he will not love.  
He accused himself then of too much inhumanity, in exposing him to so great a punishment, and seeing how strangely perplexed he was, his visit was not long.  
This mean while, he having during this visit eyed his pretended Rival, as much as his mistress, and having been much disquiet, the Princese was not much satisfied with his conversation, and knew not whereunto to attribute the cause of the change which she saw in him.  
At his coming forth he said a thousand obliging things to Philoxypes, and Philoxypes made as many protestations to him of his being unconcerned in Aretephile. But at last, that I may shorten my discourse as much as I may; Philoxypes being persecuted by the King's conceit, angered at Cleanthes discourse, much afflicted at what Policrite had said, and much more that he could see her no more, and that he durst not return to Claria, fell dangerously sick, all the Physicians gave up their opinions, that unless some cure were found for his Melancholy, he would infallibly die. The fever continued seven days upon him very violently, during which time the King was greatly disconsolate; and during which time I had ta'en a little journey to Amathuse, about some business that I had there, for I think if I had been at Paphos, I should have had much ado to have kept Philoxypes his secret from the King.  
As oft as the King came into his chamber, and saw him in that pitiful condition, he resolved to think no longer on Aretephile, but as soon as he came from him, or that Philoxypes grew any thing better, this resolution slackened a little.  
Nor was he yet resolved what to do, but the fever having at last left Philoxypes, and the Physicians continuing still to affirm that he would infallibly die, if the cause of his Melancholy whence his malady proceeded, were not taken away: The King seemed to have put on a very strong resolution to pluck from out his soul the passion which possessed him.  
He then resolved to visit Aretephile no more, who not knowing what to think of this change in the King, thought it might be he was offended that she had not all this while been to see Philoxypes, whom he so dearly loved, especially since almost all the Ladies of the Court had been to visit him. For during his sickness, the Princess of Salamis, and Princess Agharista had never left him, so as the Ladies might with decency enough go thither.  
Yet so it happened, that the day that Aretephile came thither, Philoxypes being much better than he was, they were gone forth, so as Aretephile going accompanied with four or five of her women, found him all alone. 'tis true, she was not there long without company, for the King came thither presently after. Philoxypes blushed when he saw him come in, and seemed so amazed at this encounter, as if he had been really in love with Aretephile; the King who observed this his change of countenance, being much concerned to see that he should be the cause of Philoxypes danger: after a great strife within himself; drew near to Princess Aretephile, who out of her respect would have given him her place, which he would not accept of: and after having looked upon her a while without speaking, he sighed, and said, Madam, will you not cure Philoxypes?  
Sir, said she, if his health depend on me, your Majesty should soon be eased of the grief his sickness causeth in you.  
Philoxypes, who found a great alteration in the King's countenance, was afraid lest he might say somewhat which might have made Aretephile know his opinion of him; wherefore not affording the King leisure to reply;  
Sir, said he, though I believe Princess Aretephile be able to do great things, and to charm great pains, yet I think I may say without offending her, that those evils which I lie under, depend not on her will; and that none but the gods themselves can withdraw me from the grave. Philoxypes pronounced these words in so sad a manner, as endeavouring to overcome whatsoever opposed his design of saving Philoxypes: drawing yet a little nearer to the Princess Aretephile, for fear lest they that were in the chamber might over hear him.  
Madam, said he, (making a sign to Philoxypes, that he would not be interrupted) I shall tell you a thing which will much surprise you. I conjure you notwithstanding to give it a favourable interpretation; and to oblige me so far as to believe that upon better terms then the saying of Philoxypes life, I would not tell it you, no not though mine own life were concerned therein.  
Oh, Sir, cried out this sick Prince, if your Majesty end what you have begun to say, you will hasten my death instead of retarding it.  
Princess Aretephile, amazed to hear what she heard, and not able to guess what the matter should be, looked sometimes upon the King, sometimes upon Philoxypes; but at last the King completing his determination, 'tis you, Madam, said he to the Princess Aretephile, who send Philoxypes to his grave; your charms have been more powerful than his reason, though his nobleness hath been yet greater than his love. He loves you divine Aretephile, not daring to tell you so; he will not so much as acknowledge it, yet I know for certain, that unless you take compassion on him, he will infallibly die.  
I therefore speak no more to you in my own behalf, said; he, in a strange melancholy manner, but deal less rigorously with him, than you have done with me, since he deserves it better: and if your Ambition be not to be satisfied without a Sovereign power, I promise you divine Princess, that if I cannot place Philoxypes upon the Throne, he shall always be so near, as his place shall hardly be discernible from mine.  
In fine, said he, if Philoxypes die, I shall die, and so I shall for ever lose you: but if you save Philoxypes, I may at least hope to languish on a while; and to share part of your esteem, not being able to pretend any longer to any part of your affection. Nor think not said he, that this which I do, is any mark of weakness in my affection, since on the contrary it denotes the violence thereof.  
For in fine, if I could resolve to abandon you, and to follow Philoxypes to the grave, I would not yield up to him the part I pretend to have in your affection, though he be more worthy thereof then I; but not being able to see him die for my sake, without expiring with grief; I must live, that he may live, and consequently must endeavour for a while to prolong the satisfaction I take in seeing you.  
Aretephile was so astonished to hear the King speak after this manner, and Philoxypes so afflicted, as astonishment and sorrow producing the same effect in these two personages, they stayed a good while without speaking.  
Aretephile had opinion good enough of her beauty, to suffer herself easily to be persuaded that Philoxypes was in love with her, and she had likewise opinion good enough of his Generosity, to believe he durst not discover his passion.  
But as nothing that was not King could touch her heart, she was strangely perplexed to hear what she heard, and sometimes she thought 'twas peradventure but a pretext sought by the King to break with her.  
Philoxypes on his side thinking that at the last he must be fain to tell the King the truth, that he might disabuse him, was so strangely confused, as he could not open his mouth: so as the King seeing them both so surprised, and finding that peradventure his love might quickly make him unsay all that his friendship had made him affirm, rose up, and without expecting what Aretephile would answer; Madam, said he, the pitiful condition which you see Philoxypes is in, persuades you better than I can do, and he doubtlessly will pardon me, if I speak not so long to you for him as I have formerly done to you for myself: which said, he went his way, though Philoxypes desired him to tarry; assuring him that he would wholly disabuse him.  
This mean while, though Aretephile had a great mind to be gone too, yet being imbittered in mind, and desirous to know a little more precisely, what the business of this so strange adventure would prove, she stayed a little after the King, and looking upon Philoxypes, who appeared to her to be so struck mute, as if he had been in love with her: Is it you Philoxypes, said she, that have lost your reason, or is it the king? for I confess unto you, I know not whether of the two it is, and that I cannot comprehend either of you.  
I confess Madam, said Philoxypes, that I am not master of my reason; but Madam 'tis a malady which you are no ways cause of, and whereof I accuse you not: had you any design than said she, to make me lose the King's good opinion? or is it that the King seeks some bad pretext to bereave me of it? But if it be so Philoxypes, there needs not so far a fetch about the bush. You need but give me reason of the least suspicion, and I assure you I shall not long lament the loss of so divided a heart as his is. For till now, the King did always love his Crown better than Princess Aretephile, and by his this day's discourse, he will make me believe that he loves you better than me.  
Madam, said Philoxypes, I beg it as a favour from you, not to blame the King upon so small reason; and not to blame in him the compassion he is pleased to have of an evil, which he believes you to be the cause of.  
I engage myself Madam, to free him from the error of his opinion; for though your charms be without compare, the respect which I have always born to you, and that which I shall always bear to the King, have assuredly warranted me from almost an inevitable danger, for those who have not had so powerful reasons to withstand your beauty; therefore Madam, do not disquiet yourself, and do me the honour as to promise me to pardon the King's injustice, in desiring that I should share with you in a heart where you ought 〈…〉 lie to reign.  
But Madam, the King had given me the place which I now enjoy, before he loved you; you ought not therefore be troubled thereat.  
No, no, replied ambitious Aretephile, you will not easily be able to justify the King: he is Generous, I confess, but he is but a bad lover, and whosoever can yield up his interest in the party beloved, his love is certainly very indifferent.  
This being said, she bid him farewell, and left Philoxypes so much grieved, as his malady increased. Fearing then lest he might die, and leave the king in the opinion he was in, he sent to desire him that he might speak with him; and this was just as I returned from Amethusa. I happened to be by the King when he received this message, who instantly went to Philoxypes, but with so much discontent, as I pitied him: he had repent himself more than once of what he had said to Aretephile, and not knowing whether she might not have said somewhat obliging to Philoxypes after he had left them together, he returned unto him much disquieted.  
When we came thither, he enquired whether the Princess Aretephile had tarried there long after him or not, and being told not, he entered into Philoxypes chamber, who was glad to see me with the King.  
Sir, said he, I see it is time that I confess my weakness to you, and that I disabuse you.  
The King, who could not reconcile these two things, answered him only with a sigh, and being set down by his bed side, Philoxypes asked him pardon for the trouble he had put his Majesty to, and desired me to acquaint the King with what I knew of his adventure; desiring him not to be offended that I had not told his Majesty the truth, since unless I should have drawn down the anger of Heaven upon me for perjury, I could not have revealed his secret, after the Oaths that he had made me to take to the contrary. I than began to acquaint the King with all that I knew touching Philoxypes love: but all I could say to him, appeared to be so incredible, as it was a long time before he could believe it. At last he told Philoxypes, that unless he should let him see Policrite, he would not believe what he had heard.  
Philoxypes perceiving the King's obstinacy, told him, that though he was very ill, he would be carried to Claria, in case he were any thing better the next morning, imagining he should sooner recover his health being near Policrite, then if he should stay at Paphos.  
All this while the King did not believe what I had told him; sometime a man might see some sign of rejoicing in him: Ha! my dear Philoxypes, would he say, is it possible that you were not my Rival, and that I was deceived: if it be so, I think I shall adore that Policrite you speak of, instead of blaming the love you bear her; since thereby I shall not be enforced to yield up what I hold dearer than my life, and that my confident will not prove my Rival.  
But observe Sir, the extraordinary effects of love. Philoxypes was very sick when he sent to desire the King to come unto him: but when once he had any thought of returning to Claria, he grew better: he slept all the next night quietly enough, and the next day was carried in a Litter to Claria, whither the King went to lie that night.  
The next day Philoxypes left his bed, and the following day, notwithstanding all his weakness, he got on horseback together with the King, waited on but by very few: and came to the foot of the mountains where they were to light. Being there, the King followed by none but Philoxypes and myself, went towards Cleanthe's Cottage, which as soon as we discovered, Philoxypes, who had need enough howsoever to rest, stayed a while, and showing it to the King, Sir, said he, strangely confused, see the place which made me forgo Paphos: see the inch of all the earth, that likes me best, and where you go to see one, who peradventure will rather make you Philoxypes his Rival, than Philoxypes shall prove yours.  
He spoke this with a smile, by which it visibly appeared, that the hope of reseeing Policrite had brought joy into his heart: yet did he fear dispeasing her, and to anger Cleanthes, by bringing the King thither: but there being no remedy, he resolved to do it, neither did this fear justle out his joy.  
When the King had sufficiently considered the greatness of Philoxypes his affection, in respect of the meanness of Policrites Cottage; and that he had notwithstanding acknowledged that there was somewhat of wild in that desert, which was not displeasing: we went on, and came at last to that little Palisadoe of Laurels, wherewith Cleanthes his Court was enclosed. We entered thereinto, and Philoxypes stepping before the King, went to the house, where he found the door shut: he knocked, but no body answered, which made him at first believe, that Cleanthes his whole family was gone to the Temple, where he once saw Policrite.  
Yet since there might be some body there who might not hear, he knocked again, and knocked so hard, that a young slave who served Cleanthes, came and opened the door, who very well knowing Philoxypes, told him, after that Philoxypes had asked him where his Master was, that he could not tell him what he desired to know; and that all that he knew was, that Cleanthes, Megisto, Policrite, and Dorida, were gone from thence, and were not to return thither any more: that they had carried along with them the women, which they had brought from their own Country; and that his Master had commanded him to wait his further directions there, not knowing wherefore he was gone, nor why he left him there.  
Philoxypes, surprised and afflicted at this Discourse, was a good while without speaking; The King thought at first that there was some trick in it, and that Philoxypes had made me say what I had said, only to abuse him; but at last this young Slave being stepped into the House, and returning presently; Sir, said he to Philoxypes, when Policrite was ready to depart from hence, she drew me aside, unseen by any one, and gave me this which I give to you, ordaining me so to do if you should come hither. Philoxypes taking immediately what the Slave presented him with, opened the Letter, whilst the King did me the honour to speak with me, and read these ensuing words.  
POLICRITE TO PHILOXYPES.  
I Know not Sir, whither it is that Policrite is conveyed, but I very well know that Philoxypes is the cause of her exile: not being peradventure, likely ever to have the Honour to see him. I thought I might without blame, let him know my mind by this Letter, which I refused to acquaint him withal, the last time which I spoke with him. He may then be pleased to know, that at first not esteeming myself worthy of his affection, by reason of my birth, I withheld mine from him as much as I was able; but that having learned since, that I am not of the condition I appeared to be, and that there have been Kings of my Race: I confess I was gladded that I could not reproach Philoxypes for having an inclination too disproportionable for his degree: and that I thought it became me to let him know what I am, to the end he may not think he doth any thing unworthy of himself, if he sometimes think upon Policrite, who will always with much contentment think upon his worth, whether his fortune be to lead his life in a Cottage or in a Palace.  
POLICRITE.  
PHILOXYPES, as soon as he had read this Letter, came to the King, and presenting it unto him; Sir, said he, your Majesty may read in this Letter my innocency, and my misfortune. The King began then to read aloud what Policrite had written; but good God in what pain was the unfortunate Philoxypes that he could not interrupt him; but as soon as he had read it out, looking upon him with a fixed and grieved eye; how say you now? Sir, said he, am I yet in love with Princess Aretephile, or am I not the most unfortunate man in the world? the King, embracing him, a●ked him pardon for his suspicions, and of the trouble he had given him; but my dear Philoxypes, said he, I shall be sufficiently punished for it, as well in respect of your sorrow, which shall always be rain; as for Aretephile, who will not easily forgive me, yet said he, you have wherein to rejoice, since you learn two things at once of great importance, and of great consolation. For now you know that Policrite loves you, and that she is of Princely descent: Could you have asked more of the gods, if you had been to have had your wishes granted you?  
Ah! Sir, said Philoxypes, that which you allege to comfort me, is the greatest part of my misfortune: For 'tis true, I find that Policrite does not hate me, and that she is of birth equal with myself, but at the same time this lovely and cruel personage tells me, she shall never see me more, and that she knows not whither she is carried.  
Oh! Sir, I should be more to blame were I in love with Princess Aretephile, but I should be less miserable: I should have reasons to gainsay my passion; but here I see nothing which doth not fortify and augment it.  
In fine, after Philoxypes had sufficiently bemoaned himself, he left the King, and went to ask a hundred things of the young slave, without being able to learn any thing, either of Policrites birth, nor whither Cleanthes and Megisto were gone; all he could learn was only that 'twas above a fortnight since they were gone: nothing else could be gotten out of this young Slave, neither by prayers, promises, nor threats, whose fidelity Philoxypes, for all his rage, could not choose but approve of: but not being able to learn any more, he waited back upon the King to Claria.  
For my part I was never more at my wit's end; for the King was so sad, as well for his own occasion, as for those of Philoxypes, as he could not resolve to say any thing, neither by way of bemoaning himself, nor yet of comforting Philoxypes, whom he so dearly loved.  
Philoxypes on his part was more perplexed: he was sorry to forgo that Cottage though his beloved was no longer there; he sometimes looked back upon it, sometimes he looked upon Policrites Letter, which the King had given him back.  
He would sometimes lift up his eyes to heaven, than again fix them on the earth, and walking sometimes without speaking, sometimes fetching deep sighs, he seemed not to know whether the King were there or no, or whether he were alone, so deep was his melancholy. At last we came to Claria, but good gods, how sad was the conversation the rest of that day!  
At last said the King to Philoxypes, you have this advantage, to know that Policrite is much obliged to you, that she hath nothing to reproach you withal, that you have not offended her, and that wheresoever she is, if she think of you, 'tis only to bewail your absence: where on the contrary, I have incensed Aretephile, whose aspiring soul does doubtlessly accuse me of want of affection, and who will take it very ill, that I preferred your life before my love to her.  
But Sir, said the afflicted Philoxypes, you know where the Princess Aretephile is, you may make your reasons known to her, you may ask her pardon for that fault, which an excess of Generosity made you commit: you may sit and sigh by her, and may appease her anger. But for my part Sir, should I complain, should I sigh, should I pour forth torrents of tears amidst these Rocks, would all this restore to me my Policrite? should I thereby learn where she lives? It may be Cleanthes is put to Sea, and it may be I shall never know, neither who Policrite is, nor where she is.  
Ah! Sir, said this disconsolate Prince, if you knew the cruelty of my adventure, you would easily know that I am the most unfortunate man in the world: for if I loved one that did hate me, despite might cure me: if I loved one that were inconstant, the scorn I should have of her weakness, might consolate me: if I were jealous, a part of my melancholy would pass away in seeking how I might prejudice my Rivals: were Policrites absence bounded, the hope of her return, how long so ere it were, would allay my discontents. Nay, were any person whom I should love, dead, I think my sufferings would not be so great as they are. For in fine, my malady is such, as doth stupefy reason, and makes the soul almost insensible.  
In this manner did the King and Philoxypes entertain themselves. I endeavoured to comfort them both, but to tell you truth, my reasons were not listened unto; as for Philoxypes, he knew not what remedy to seek for; for having learned by the Slave who gave him Policrite's Letter, that 'twas a good while since she went away, he could not dream of following her, nor knew he where to seek after her.  
All he could do, was to give order to his people to watch night and day about the Cottage, with directions to stay any who should come thither, that they might learn by them what this too faithful Slave would not discover; and to follow him wheresoever he should go, believing probably that Cleanthes had not left him alone in that house, without some secret reason, and without having a design to return; or at least to send some body thither on his behalf, or that the Slave himself should return to him.  
As for the King it fared not thus with him: he knew that it was at Aretephiles feet that he was to seek for pardon: he would not, notwithstanding make his dear Philoxypes return so soon to Paphos, but stayed the next day at Claria.  
But though there was no hope of finding Policrite, Philoxypes desired the King that he would be pleased to send to all the ports of the Island, to know whether Cleanthes had ta'en shipping in any of them or no, it being easy to be known, by reason of the many women that were in his company, which would make him remarkable. The King promised him to do what he desired, but conjured him also not to refuse to go with him to Paphos, to assist him in getting Aretephiles pardon. Philoxypes appeared visibly displeased to be forced to return to the Court, but being so much obliged to the King, and the King being upon ill terms with his Mistress, only out of his Love to him, he thought it became him to go, as he did. When we were come to Paphos, the King went that very night to Princess Aretephiles lodgings, and found her only accompanied with her women. She received him with all the civility that was due to his condition, but also with as much coolness as could be expected from an incensed party.  
Seeing Philoxypes with the King, Sir, said she, with a malicious smile, did not I tell you Philoxypes would recover without my meddling with him. Madam, said he, Philoxypes is much worse than I believed him to be; but thanks to Heaven, I will not lay his death to your charge, since you are not the cause of his disquiet. May it please the Gods that you put not Philoxypes in a condition of reproaching you with my death!  
No, no, Sir, said she, your life is in no danger, as long as Philoxypes lives, your Majesty needs fear nothing. Alas Madam, cried the King, deal not so hardly with me! Alas, Sir, said she, go not about I beseech you to persuade me to things so directly opposite one to another, in so short a time; it is not above four or five days since you did me the honour to tell me at Philoxypes his lodging, that you would no more sue to me for yourself; that my affection was a thing wherein you did no longer desire a part; and if I remember well, you did also entreat me not to deal so rigorously with Philoxypes, as I had done with you. And it may be, said she, (expressing an extremity of Malice) that yielding much to your entreaties upon that occasion, I should have granted what you have demanded for Philoxypes, had my friendship been necessary to save his life; but since God be thanked, he needs it not, he may be pleased to content himself with my esteem; and your Majesty may likewise be satisfied with my respect, which is all I can or aught to give you. For in fine to make me believe that you love me, after being able to permit that another should love me, and you yourself wish me to love him, is a thing not easy to be understood, nor yet easily digested: believe me, Sir, said she, to love one's Rival, better then ones Mistress, is a thing whereof there are not many examples, and which may allow me to let those know, who shall be acquainted with the business, that 'tis an excellent way to make a faithful servant, and a very bad invention to make a Princess love him, who treats her after that manner. Shall the compassion I had of Philoxypes, Madam, replied the King, destroy me for ever in your good opinion? me, I say, who underwent an unexpressible torment, before I could resolve to pity him? me, who did not yield you up, save only because I could not abandon you, and who found that Philoxype's death did hasten mine? If you could have loved Aretephile, answered the Princess, more than Philoxypes, you would have lamented his misfortune and yours; you would have endeavoured to have cured him by absence, or by a thousand other ways; you would have bewailed his death when it should have happened, and would yet have been comforted, by the sole sight of Aretephile: but because you love Philoxypes better than you love Aretephile, you resolve without much difficulty to lose her. Yet Sir, you could yield up to Philoxypes no more than that part which you held in her, which was not peradventure so great as you believe.  
Ah! inhuman Princess said the King, make me not despair, and know that when I made a surrender of you to Philoxypes, I was resolved to die. It may be Sir, said she, if I had so much weakness as to lend a favourable ear to what you now say, that upon the first occasion that should present itself; and upon the first suspicion you should have that any one should bear me never so little good will, you would again conjure me to be his cure. No, no, Sir, said she, with a yet more serious face, you never loved me, nor do you know what it is to love: Love is somewhat above reason, or generosity, which hath reasons of its own: a man may give his own life for his friend, but as for the Mistress whom he loveth, it would be more just, and more usual, to quit all his friends for her interest, then to yield her up to any one friend. In fine said she, you may perchance have thought you could have lived without me; for had you dreamt you must have died, me thinks you might as well have died without yielding up Aretephile to Philoxypes, as after having surrendered her to him. But Sir, since you have rather chosen to specify an extraordinary mark of Generosity, then to give the commonest proof of love, I have no more to say; neither have I more to do, but to preserve my heart as free as it hath always been. The King seeing he could not appease this haughty spirit, called Philoxypes in into his aid; come, said he, come make amends for the fault which you have innocently committed; and if you will preserve my life, as I would have done yours, be a mean of replacing me in the condition wherein I was before I had compassion of you. Madam, said Philoxypes, addressing his speech to the Princess, if you judge of the King's love to you, by his Friendship to me, what may you not expect from thence; since to save my life, he could for some few moments only renounce the possession of so inestimable a jewel. And will you not then believe, That upon the least occasion which should present itself, he would for your service sacrifice, not only Philoxypes, but even all his subjects, nay, even his own life? No Sir, said she, you are not so much bound to the King, as you imagine, and instead of your desiring me to judge of his love to me, by the friendship he bears to you, I shall advise you to judge of his friendship to you, only by his love to me; and to believe, that since he was able to yield me up, he never had so resolute a passion for Aretephile, as to deserve that Philoxypes should be much beholden to him, for what he hath done for him, since he would have done the like for any other. But cruel princess, said the King, what will you have me to do? me thinks said she, I should demand no unjust thing of you, if I should humbly entreat you to think no longer on Aretephile, and quietly to enjoy the life of Philoxypes, which hath cost you so little.  
Ah, said he, if I should have purchased the life of Philoxypes, at the loss of your affection, I should have bought it more dear, then if I should have given my Crown for it. Confess the truth, said this malicious Princess, if Philoxypes had been as sick of Ambition, as you did think him love sick, he would not for certain be yet cured, and you would not so soon have foregone your Sceptre, as you did Aretephile. Philoxypes, who easily conceived the hidden sense of these words, whereunto the King replied not, so was he overborne with grief, said, Madam, if the King shall confess unto you that he hath done amiss, and shall ask your pardon for it, will you be more inexorable, then are the gods, and will you show no mercy? when the King, said she, shall have done to cure me of any malady of mind, if any such shall befall me, so extraordinary a thing, as that which he hath done for you, I shall then see of what mind I shall be. In fine, Sir, All that the King and Philoxypes could do or say, did no ways avail with this imperious Princess.  
When they were come from her, and were returned to the Palace; Philoxypes who was well acquainted with Aretaphiles humour, told the King, he knew a way how to work his reconcilement with her: Alas, said the King, there are few things I would not do to purchase that content: speak therefore, my dear Philoxypes: must I be long in pain? must I sigh abundantly, and pour forth abundance of tears? and must I be everlastingly prostrate at her feet? No Sir, said he, you shall only put the Crown upon her head. but replied the King, I would gladly not have owned Aretephiles love to her Ambition; on the contrary, I would have had the Crown of Cyprus to have been a reward of her affection to me.  
Five or six days being thus passed over, and Philoxypes, not being able to tarry any longer at the Court, he desired leave of the King to return to Claria. Those who the King had sent to the Port towns which were nearest to Paphos, returned at the same time, but brought no news of Policrite; so as the unfortunate Philoxypes returned to his solitariness in great despair.  
He had yet engaged the King not to discover the cause of his melancholy; nor were there any that knew it, but he, the Princess Aretephile, and myself; nor did the Princess know any more, than that Philoxypes was fallen in love with one that he knew not.  
It would be very hard to relate unto you what life he led; when it was fair weather, he went to visit Policrite's Cottage, and all the places where he had seen her, or spoken with her; he went to ask more questions of the slave who was there, and whom they had ever had an eye unto, not finding any one that spoke with him, nor that he spoke with any one. But all the addresses this Prince could make, could not prevail against the fidelity of this slave, who deserved a better condition.  
When Philoxypes could not walk abroad, he walked in his Gallery, gazing on the picture of his dear Policrite. When he called to mind how contented a life he led before he fell in love, he almost wished he had never seen Policrite; but when he remembered her charming beauty, her bewitching mind, and the happy hours which he had enjoyed in her company, though she had always concealed the esteem she had for him; he preferred all the sorrows he had suffered since he was in love, before all his former pleasures.  
Oh! would he sometimes say to himself, when he should read Policrite's letter; how sweet, how pleasing, and how cruel things have I learned in one day? Policrite is of illustrious birth, Policrite will always remember me, and Policrite will never more see me. Alas, if it be so said he, why have I not recourse to death, and what shall I do with so unfortunate a life? Then suddenly remembering that Policrite was alive, and that she did not hate him, he conceived a beam of hope, that peradventure she might make enquiry after him, and knowing how miserable a life he led, she might at last resolve to let him know in what part she lived.  
This thought afforded him only so much hope as to keep him from dying; not so much as to comfort him in his misfortunes. Living then in this manner all the rest of the Winter, he went sometimes to see the King, when the King could not come to him; and despairing of all remedy, he only expected death, or news of Policrite: the one or the other, whereof were the object of all his thoughts, and the bounds of all his desires. The Spring itself, which seems to inspire joy into whole Nature, wrought no alteration in him. He beheld the roses in his Gardens blush, with the same melancholy as he had seen his Knots white with Snow in Winter. Those who watched over Cleanthes his slave, brought him word one morning, that he was suddenly dead. This angersome news did redouble his grief, in as much as for that he seemed▪ concerned in any thing which belonged to Policrite; and that this slave appeared to him worthy of such good fortune, as that in losing him, he lost almost all hopes of ever discovering where Policrite was. He forbore not notwithstanding, to have watch kept for a while, to see whether any body should come to that rural Cottage, or no: but at last, weary of wearying out his people, he dispensed with their further trouble therein; and abandoned his fortune absolutely to the guidance of the gods.  
As he was one day in this sad mood, Solon came to Claria: he was at first much joyed to hear a name he so dearly loved; but considering what an alteration there was in him, since he had seen him, and how confounded he should be to acknowledge his weakness to him, though he knew that lawful love was not a passion to which Solon had declared himself an enemy, this joy suffered a little allay. He went notwithstanding with much eagerness to meet him; but sadness having so deeply seized upon his heart and eyes, the satisfaction which he received to see the famous Solon, was so inward, as there hardly appeared any sign thereof in his countenance. Solon no sooner saw him, but he observed his melancholy; and Philoxypes on his part, looking on Solon, instead of the peaceful physiognomy, and that cheerful and pleasing aspect which he had wont to have in his eyes, he seemed to see a great deal of sorrow.  
The first compliments being over, and Philoxypes having brought Solon to his Chamber; Sir, said he, the sight of you would surely much rejoice me, did I not see some signs of sorrow in you, of which I must needs request to know the cause▪ Noble Prince, replied Solon, I should have prevented you, and have desired to know the cause of your melancholy, before having afforded you leisure to inform yourself of mine. But I confess unto you, the Lawgiver of Athens, is not at present in a condition of prescribing Laws unto himself; and that the sorrow I feel, is stronger than my reason. Philoxypes, embracing him then straight, conjured him to tell him the reason thereof, and desired him to believe he would do all that lay in his power to comfort him.  
But Sir, said he, I thought that Philosophy had been a salve to you against all the misfortunes of life; and that sorrow was a thing unknown to Solon, to whom whole Greece gives the name of Wise.  
Philosophy said this famous Athenian, is a vainglorious Art; which boasts of governing in places, wherein she hath no great power; she may doubtlessly said he, teach men to be virtuous, make them know whole Nature, reach them how to discourse, and give them Laws and Precepts for the government of Kingdom and Commonwealths; Nay, she may ofttimes make us overcome our passions; but when an equitable feeling, which nature gives us, is to be overcome, believe me Philoxypes, the same Philosophy which hath sometimes made us lose Crowns without change of countenance, or which hath made us not stick to refuse them, is weak in less eminent occasions. And in my particular; I may say, I have been thrice in my life time abandoned by her; though peradventure I have been assisted by her upon an hundred difficult occasions. But yet said Philoxypes, shall I not know what 'tis that afflicts you? It very well behoves that I tell it you, said Salon, since 'tis from you alone that I can expect any help. I will not repeat unto you, said he, the so many particulars of my fortune which formerly I have acquainted you withal, for I believe you have not forgot them; but that you may perfectly know the cause of my grief, I must howsoever take the rise of my discourse afar off; and tell you some circumstances of my life, which you have not yet known. You know I never believed that marriage was incompatible with Philosophy and true Wisdom, as Thales that famous, Milesian did imagine; you know likewise that I married a personage of great worth and understanding, by whom I had children, who died soon after they were born; one only son excepted, whom I have bred up carefully, intending to make him worthy of that noble blood whence he is descended. He was about 14 or 15 years old, when I was at Milet, about some affairs of mine; where I visited wise Thales, who was one of my very good friends. He civilly reproached me with my weakness, and said, I did sufficiently witness my indulgency to love, by a little image of Cupid, which I one day consecrated to that Deity, and placed in the Park belonging to the Academy, there where they who run with the sacred Torch, are wont to assemble themselves. Passing from one thing to another, we spoke of the happiness, and of the misfortunes of marriage, and thus our discourse varying, as it oft falls out from our first subject, we spoke of news and other such like matters.  
Presently after, Thales feigning to have some order to give to one of his folk about his own affairs, rose to speak to him in his ear, and came and took his place again. Not long after, I might see a stranger come, whom I knew not, who told him he was come from Athens, not above ten days ago. Pressed by the natural desire of curiosity, to know whether there was nothing of new befallen in my Country, since my departure thence, I asked him whether he knew any thing considerable there or no? No, said he, save only that the day I came away on, I saw the Funeral observed of a young youth of the best rank, whereat all the people of note in the Town, were present, and were very sensible of the sorrow this child's death would cause in his Father, who was not then at Athens. I confess, when I heard him speak thus, my colour changed, fearing my son might be concerned; which made me ask him whether he knew not the name of that unfortunate Father? I have forgot it, said he, but I know he is a man of great integrity, and who is much esteemed of in that place.  
I confess Sir, that since Philosophy teacheth sincerity, as well as modesty, I thought I might be the man spoken of; was willing to know the truth, without offence to good manners; his name doubtlessly, said I, was not Solon: pardon me, said he, his name came just to my memory as you pronounced it. To what end serves it to deny it? I could not hear so sad news without sorrow, and that so great as Thales pitied me, and jesting at my weakness, asked me whether it were advantageous for a wise man to marry, or no? Putting himself thereby in a condition to have studied Philosophy for others, not being able to make use thereof himself. After this, he told me there was not one word true of all that this man had said; that he had not so much as been at Athens of a long time; and that he had said all this by his directions, which he had caused to be given him, when he rose from me to speak in the ear with one of his servants.  
At my return to Athens, I found my son alive indeed, but I found the whole Town in confus●on, by reason of some disorder that had happened between those that were descended from Megacles, and those that were come of them that had been of the Ci●onean conspiracy. The Megarians surprised the port of Nisa, and retook the Isle of Salamina, which had caused me so much trouble. And to add to the misfortune, all the people were seized on with a superstitious snare, which persuaded them that spirits returned; that phantasms and apparitions appeared; and this imagination prevailed so much with most of them, as there was an universal humiliation.  
Those who had the charge of the sacred things, said, that they found infallible signs by the Victims, that the Town needed purification, and that the gods were incensed by reason of some secret offence committed.  
To this effect, by the advice of the wisest sort, they sent an Express to Creta, to Epimenides the Phaestien, who was and doubtlessly is still, an incomparable man, a man whose life is altogether pure, innocent, and holy: who eats no more than what is sufficient to maintain life, and whose soul leans as little to the senses, as in this life it can: who is very learned in the knowledge of heavenly things; and who passes in his Country, not only for one who hath sometimes Divine Revelations, but is by the people of Crete believed to be the son of a Nymph, called, Balta, However if it be Sir, he is a man of extraordinary knowledge and virtue.  
Epimenides, not refusing the entreaties that were made unto him, came to Athens, and of so many famous men as were in that noted City, did me the favour to choose me for his most intimate friend, having through his wisdom, and through the people's belief in him, dissipated all their false imaginations, and that by Prayers, Sacrifices, and Ceremonies, he had rid them of all their fears, he would yet stay awhile at Athens for my sake; where certainly he told prodigious predictions to a hundred several people. As we were speaking one day of humane weaknesses, and how little a man ought to rely upon his own strength, nor yet upon Philosophy; I acquainted him with what had befallen me with Thales the Milesian, and how much ashamed I was, not to be Master of my first opinions. Solon (said he to me) is easy to be overcome on that side, and as often as fortune will make use of the affections of nature against him, she will certainly overcome him: For he hath a soul as tender upon such encounters, as strong against ambition: But Solon, said he, you are to be bewailed if you do not resolve to believe me; and believe that what you underwent whilst you were with your friend Thales, is little in comparison of what you shall one day suffer in the person of a Daughter, of whom your wife is at this present with Child.  
I have, said, he, observed your birth, and your life, and I find that this child, which will be soon born, will be a prodigy for beauty and virtue; and will also be one of the happiest women in the world, if you will believe my counsel: but also if you will not believe, and follow it, she will be the most unfortunate. In fine, said he, if you do not what I shall say unto you, you shall have the discontent to see that your Daughter's beauty will make your Country desolate; and that after having refused the sovereign power (as you will one day refuse it) she will make one of your Citizens fall in Love with her, who will become the Tyrant of the Commonwealth, which will make her resolve to die, rather than to marry him.  
I confess I was much troubled to hear Epimenides speak after this manner; for I had heard him foretell divers things, which I had seen punctually fall out according to his predictions. I than desired him to tell me what he would have me to do, to preserve a man who did sacrifice his whole life to the glory of Athens, from having a daughter who should cause love in him that would be the Tyrant thereof. He told me then, That since it was not yet known in Athens that my wife was with Child, I should conceal her great belly; send her into the Country, and when she should be brought to bed, that I should cause this daughter to be secretly brought up, not suffering her to know whose child she was, nor yet any other body whosoever, except those who were to have the care of her education, that if it should so fall out, as I should be forced to forsake my Country, I must during my exile, leave her in some Island upon the Egean Sea; and that things being thus carried, she should be infallibly happy, and I should not need to fear that she should be beloved by the Tyrant of Athens. In fine, Sir, to shorten my discourse, I obeyed Epimenides his advice; I sent my wife into the Country, where when her time was come, she was brought to bed of a Daughter: wondering at the accomplishment of the beginning of this prediction, I continued to follow Epimenides his directions, who at his departure (after having refused all the presents that were made him, and taking for his reward, only a branch of the Sacred Olive) told me that my Daughter would one day cause as much joy in me by her virtue, and good fortune, as she would cause sorrow in me by reason of her loss. These obscure words continued fixed in my memory, so as I put my Daughter into the hands of a Sister of mine whom I loved very well, who was married in Corinth, and was come to see me: trusting only her and her husband, with the secret which Epimenides had acquainted me withal.  
I will not stay to tell you, that soon after I lost my wife, for which I was very much grieved; neither will I entertain you with the disorders of Athens, which are too well known to all men; nor yet with the relation how I was solicited to accept of the Soveriagn power, being put in mind that there had been Kings of my Race, and that one that was descended from the illustrious Chodrus, need make no scruple to accept the Sceptre: nor with what steadfastness I rejected those who made so unjust a proposition to me, following Epimenides his predictions. Neither will I tell you what Laws▪ there established, you know them, and know how they were observed; nor yet the resolution which I took to quit my Country, for the space of ten years; to the end that I might make no further alterations, and leave the people leisure to accustom themselves to their new Laws.  
But I will tell you, that being ready to take my voluntary banishment from Greece, and not forgetting what Epimenides had told me, I came to Corinth, unknown: and having told my sister that I was obliged to leave my Daughter in an Island during the time of my exile: This virtuous personage, who loved her no less than a Daughter, which she had of her own, had married a Gentleman of extraordinary worth, and who had long lived a retired life, so as she easily prevailed with him, not to abandon my Daughter, who really appeared to me, to be the sweetest child I ever saw. I consulted the Gods touching my design, who confirmed me therein. Thus I took this little Family along with me in my ship; and being desirous that the place of exile for these whom I so dearly loved, might be a pleasant place, I chose this Isle to leave them in.  
Whilst Solon discovered thus at large, Philoxypes, who longed to interrupt him, could no longer forbear: did you, Sir, said he, leave a Daughter in this Island? Yes, said Solon, with a sigh, and I saw her here about four years ago, when I would be seen by none but by you: and Sir, if I may be allowed to say so, I saw her such a one as Epimenides had deciphered her, to wit, handsome, full of wit and virtue.  
When I first left those, to whose guidance I committed her, I willed them to say they were of the Island of Crete: At this word, Philoxypes changed colour, remembering that it was of thence that Cleanthes said himself to be. But Sir, said he, how was this daughter called, that the gods gave you? Policrite replied Solon. Policrite, said Philoxypes, is Policrite, Sir, than your daughter? Solon surprised at Philoxypes question, changed colour also, and feared lest this Prince might have known somewhat of Policrite, which might displease him more than the uncertainty he was in of her life or place of abode.  
●ow Sir, said he, come you to know my daughter, whom to say truth, I left near enough to you, but whom I had also left in a place, where I thought not you should have met with her; and that when you should have met with her, you ●●ould not have known her to be what she is? It was the gods, replied Philoxypes, who brought me to the knowledge of her; and 'tis the gods likewise, said he, who have taken her from her Cottage, doubtlessly to punish me for not precisely knowing the daughter of that famous Solon. At last, he desired this Lawgiver to go into his Gallery, which was painted since his last being at Claria; and showing him the several pictures of Policrite, under the figure of Venus Urania; behold, Sir, said he, the Goddess which made me know Policrite. Solon surprised with the sight, looked on Philoxypes, and not comprehending how he could come by those pictures without Policrites consent; Sir, said he, Epimenides assured me that Policrite should be virtuous; but these pictures make me believe, that being bred up amongst the Rocks, she may have become too indulgent. Ah, Sir, said Philoxypes! how far is Policrite from what you speak of? but shall I dare to acquaint you with my boldness? and shall I dare to inquire of you, before I acquaint you with my misfortune, and yours, wherefore you left her in that place? Solon, who knew Cleanthes and Megisto's integrity, who knew likewise how virtuous Policrite was, condemned his first suspicions, and hasted to tell him how when he first arrived in our Island, he made Cleanthes and his Family come on shore as passengers which he knew not, that afterwards he placed them near the Sea side, but that being afterwards at Claria, and whilst he assisted him in the building of that Town to which he would give his name, being walked abroad all alone, he had observed that little deser place where he placed Policrite, having given Cleanthes wherewithal to build that little Cottage, and wherewithal to subsist commodiously during the time of his exile. That passing from Africa into Asia, to go to Croesus his Court, he would first come once again to Cyprus, that he might see his dear Policrite. That he had been a whole month in that Cottage, Policrite not having all that while either known his name, nor that he was her Father; and that afterwards he came to visit him at Claria; that he confessed he had in that journey discovered stranges light in the young maid's understanding, which obliged him to be very sensible of her loss: For, said he, I can find no body now in that Cottage, and cannot learn, neither why those that did inhabit there have left it, nor how long it is since they went from thence, nor what way they are gone.  
But you Sir, said he, be pleased I beseech you to let me hear all whatsoever you know of my daughter, and conceal nothing from me; for I confess I stand upon thorns. Philoxypes having observed that Solon was really very impatient to know how he came to know Policrite, and how he had got somany Pictures of hers, told him the whole truth; he made him call to mind his former inflexibility, and how he had told him long since that a man might once in his life be overcome by love without any ●●ame. Then he told him what glorious and gallant company he had had at his house; how miraculously this Venus was esteemed by them all: the contestation which he had with them thereupon; how afterwards he met with Policrite, at the head of the River Claria; how surprised he was to see that the Portrait of his Venus, should be the picture of this unknown maid; how much he was troubled that he could not find her again; how happily he met Cleanthes as he was going with his Family to the Temple: how he saw her the third time when he found her in the Temple; how at last he discovered her Cottage, and his sundry thoughts thereupon: he acquainted him with the first visit he made to Policrite, when he found her making Garlands of Flowers; what speech he had with Cleanthes and Megisto; and in fine, how violently he was taken with her. He told him also, how he had endeavoured to suppress his passion, by reason of the supposed meanness of her birth: what an alteration this passion had wrought in his mind: how the Court was startled at his Melancholy; the King's odd conceit thereupon, his discourse with the King, and with the Princess Ar●tephile: how angry this Princess was, and how much he himself was perplexed: how it came to pass that Mandrocles had drawn Policrite's Pictures; and in fine, he told him all that had befallen him: and when he had ended his recital, not affording Solon leisure to speak, thus you see, Sir, said he, I am no longer that Inflexible Philoxypes which you formerly knew me to be, but I may safely protest unto you, that I loved Policrite in a Cottage, with the same respect as if she had been seated on a Throne: and I may also assure you, that my passion for her was as pure, as if I had known she had been your daughter.  
Do not blame me then, I conjure you, since I have only adored Solon's virtue and worth in Policrite's person; for 'tis her virtuous mind which I am more enamoured of, then of her personal beauty; yet do I deserve to be punished, for doubtlessly my frequent visits have caused Cleanthes to change his abode. He knew not Philoxypes, and Imagined he might have abused him in Policrite: But to prove, said he, that I lived respectfully with her, and that I never received a favourable word from her, see (said he, Sir, showing him the letter which he had received) the innocent and cruel sign of acknowledgement, that this Divine Personage hath given me, since that at the same time when she says she will remember me, she says also she shall never see me more: yet Sir, said he, if my passion do displease you, you shall see how ready I will be to die, as soon as you shall have given me the least occasion so to do; since that is the only way whereby I can pluck her from out my heart: but on the contrary, if you do truly love me, you will rather bewail me, then accuse me; you will promise me not to oppose me, if the Gods restore Policrite to you: and you will suffer her to be Mistress of that stately town which was built by your directions.  
I wish, Sir, I were able to offer her sundry Sceptres; but I think not that he who refuseth them, will stick much to bestow his daughter on a Prince, who thinks himself happy in being but near a Throne, and to assist his King to sustain the weight of his Sceptre.  
When Philoxypes had made an end of speaking, and Solon had read Policrite's letter; my Daughter said he, is yet wiser than I thought her to have been: and since she hath been able to resist the charms of Philoxype's greatness and worth, I find Epimenides had reason to speak of her, as of a miracle.  
Be you then assured, said he, Sir, That if the Gods restore my Daughter to me, I shall bring no other obstacle to your designs, than my humble desire that you will seriously consider, whether she be worthy or no of the honour you would do her: for if you continue in your resolution, and that I shall know that she doth indeed deserve a part of the favours which you vouchsafe her, I shall be ready to command her to look on you, as on him whom the gods have chosen to make her happy and glorious.  
I do not tell you Philoxypes, that the famous Exces●ides, my Father, who left me poor only out of his own Magnificency, was descended from the illustrious blood of King Chodrus; for these are not things which I think then ought much to boast of: But I will assure you, that all those of my House, since they have left the Crown, have been as good Citizens, as their Forefathers were good Kings; and that for my particular, I had always rather oppose myself to Tyranny, then be a Tyrant.  
In fine, said he, as it is not to your greatness that I give Policrite, I pretend also, that Policrite's virtue, shall supply the place of a Crown.  
But alas, said Philoxypes! how will you give me this Divine Policrite, if we know not where she is? She must be begged of the Gods, replied Solon, since 'tis from them alone that we are to expect all the good that can befall us.  
In fine; sir, Philoxypes conceived an unexpressible joy, to find Solon so favourably disposed towards him. But also his grief was no less extreme, to think that Solon's good intentions would prove of no use, if Policrite were not found. Yet was he somewhat comforted with the sight of so famous a man, and the conversation of one so perfectly wise, made his sorrow appear at least more moderate, though really it was always very great. Nay, I remember he told me that notwithstanding all his sadness, he forgot not you, sir, but entertained Solon with the discourse of you, as of a very extraordinary Personage.  
This mean while the King, having heard of Solon's arrival, and how that Policrite was his daughter, was exceeding glad, and would have him and Philoxypes to come to Court; so as this Prince his love was no longer so great a secret.  
Imagining that Cleanthes was not gone out of the Island, command was sent again to all the Towns and Villages, to give an account of what strangers lived in them, but do what they could, they could learn no acceptable news.  
This mean while the Court grew very melancholy; for Princess Aretephile, not able to put on a resolution of pardoning the King, the King by an odd fancy of Love, resolved also to win this Princess her heart, before he would assure her to make her his Queen.  
Philoxypes on his part was mad to think he could not find out Policrite, and that he had been the cause why Solon had lost her: and Solon was also very sad that he could hear no news of his daughter; especially at a time when he was of necessity to return to Athens, where he had learned that there were great disorders, and that all things tended towards Sedition.  
He knew that there were three several Factions there: that one Lycurgus was chief of those that inhabited the plains; that Megacles, son to Alcmeon, commanded over those of the sea coast, and that Pisistrates, whom certainly you knew when you went to Athens, was chief of the mountaineers. So as though all that numerous people had punctually observed his Laws, since his departure, yet the face of affairs was likely soon to alter.  
Solon being then necessitated to be gone within a few days, told Philoxypes, That the interest of a man's country, was to be preferred before all things else: and that he who chose rather to conceal his daughter, then to expose her to the love of a Tyrant, would not abandon his Country, to expect in vain to hear of one whom certainly the Gods would preserve if she were worthy of their care; so as he had no more to do, then give. him full leave to marry her if he should find her; Philoxypes being at that same time both much afflicted, and much joyed; thanked Solon for the honour he did him; but the wind not serving for his departure, and his ship not being ready, he must have patience for a while, During this interval of time, Solon understood that there was a famous Temple about some forty miles from Paphos, dedicated as were almost all the rest in the Island, to Venus Urania, where 'twas said this Goddess delighted more to be honoured, then in any other Temple: because the custom there was, that all the Ceremonies were performed by maids of good descent, who dedicated themselves to the service of that Goddess, and who were to serve her three years in her Temple before they were to marry.  
Solon who believed he could not employ the time better, which much against his will, he was to stay in Cyprus, then in praying to the Gods, moved Philoxypes to go thither, who easily gave way thereunto: so as getting on horseback the next morning, and attended but by a few servants, they came to this Temple, which is very delightfully seated.  
I know Sir, I should not stay to acquaint you with all the Ceremonies of the sacrifice, which upon this occasion was offered for Solon and Philoxypes, yet it being famous amongst us for what ensued thereupon, I will crave leave to do it; as also because peradventure, you have not seen the like: For 'tis a sacrifice which doth not cost the victims lives, but on the contrary, makes them recover their liberty.  
This Temple is fairly enough built: the Altar is stately, at the foot whereof, and just in the midst, is placed a great candlestick of Gold with twelve branches, whereon Crystal lamps hung which were all lighted instantly after. Fifty maids, clothed in silver Tiffany, mingled with blue, to denote the original of that heavenly Venus whom they served, having each of them a Coronet of flowers on their head, and sprigs of Myrrh in their hands, ranked themselves on the two sides of the Temple, she only excepted who was to perform the Ceremony, who stayed in the middle.  
At the foot of this golden candlestick, there was a great Chest or Coffer of the same metal, wherein there was fire which they termed sacred, because it is only lighted by the agitation of certain stones consecrated to the Goddess: she who offered the sacrifice in the name of Solon, and Philoxypes, put Amber, Frankincense, Benjamin, and divers other perfumes, into this Pile of wood: This being done, and having made a little Pile of the dry boughs of Myrrh upon the Altar, she took a Torch made of perfumed wax, wherewith she set it on fire, and with the same Torch she lighted fifty others which were placed in sundry parts of the Temple: after this, one of these maids brought two Turtles tied together with threads of gold and blue silk; and before her who carried the Birds, went four other maids singing a Hymn after the Lydian manner: after these came four others, bringing with them two Swans tied together with a string of blue and gold, and followed by four more who sung as did the former.  
These maids who carried the Victims, kneeled down before the Altar, which being done, she who did the Ceremony, (to the end that she might not irritate Venus Anadiomena, who had been formerly worshipped in that Temple, by the honour that was done to Venus Urania) took Roses and Cockles, which she strewed upon the Altar, and taking a great shell of the Mother of pearl full of sea water, taken up towards the east, she sprinkled the Victims therewith.  
The holy knife, adorned with Oriental Aggat, was likewise prepared, as it were to sacrifice them; but the maids who sung continually forbade them in the behalf of Venus Urania, so as she who carried the Turtles, and the other who carried the Swans, drawing near her who performed the Ceremony, she untied them, and opening one of the windows of the Temple, at the same time when they threw new perfumes into the pile of wood, they were lost in that cloud of perfume which arose, and flying towards heaven, seemed as if they went to carry up the vows of Solon and Philoxypes, to the Goddess to whom they were offered up.  
After this, all the maids which were in the Temple, began a Canticle of joy, and one of them taking a little Faggot of Myrrh, which was bound about with threads of Gold, swept together the ashes of the little pile, to see whether all were quite consumed or no; for this is one of the tokens that the Sacrifice hath been well received.  
In pursuit after this, they went to visit the sacred garden, wherein the Turtles and Swans, destined to the service of the Goddess, are bred up, to see whether those that were offerrd up unto her, were returned thither or no: for when this falls not out, 'tis an infallible observation that the sacrifice hath not been well accepted of, and that the Goddess thinks not those birds pure enough to be presented unto her another time. But as for Solon his Sacrifice, it had all the marks of a happy Sacrifice; the Pile was totally consumed, the perfumes mounted straight upright toward the Temple's Roof, the birds flew Eastward, and were found in the sacred Garden. In fine, these maids assured Philoxypes and Solon, that their vows were well accepted of by the Goddess; and that they had not of a long time offered any Sacrifice, which had been so well accepted of.  
Having then returned acknowledgements to the Divine Urania, these two returned to Paphos: Solon did so pleasantly entertain Philoxypes, and said such fine things to him, as not taking heed, he missed the way by which they came. Those who followed them, thought that Philoxypes, who very well knew that way, intended to go some whither that they knew not of, so as they let him go on. Continuing to ride on thus by this by-way, they strayed not only from the way they were to go, but came at last to a place where there was no beaten tract at all: finding themselves at the Sea side, amongst wild, and almost inaccessible Rocks, the sight hereof recalled into Philoxypes memory the desert wherein he had found Policrites abode.  
But at the same time he found that he had lost his way; and that he knew not where he was: yet it appearing delightful enough unto him, though sandy enough, he said to Solon, that continuing to go along the Seaside, they should meet with some path which would lead them back into the right way; wherefore they did not return back, but continued on their way; and Philoxypes road foremost, that he might be a guide to those that he had led out of the way.  
Being advanced a good way, he might see five or six fisher's Cottages, built upon the Seaside, and heard the voice of certain women, who seemed to bewail some misfortune.  
He then mended his pace, not knowing why the voice of those women had had such an operation in him; and being come near them, he knew Megisto, and Dorida, and found them sorely weeping, and accompanied with many other women, who wept as well as they, and who not minding him, looked all towards the Sea.  
He then looked the same way they did, where, alas! he might see Policrite, all alone in a little boat floating, without either oars or rudder; who not knowing what to do, was upon her knees praying to Heaven; for though the Sea went not very high, yet was it somewhat moved; and moreover, the Rocks bearing back the Waves on that side, and a breath of air blowing from land, the Boat went still further off.  
Philoxypes seeing Policrite in so great a danger, and not seeing any Boat that he might make use of, lighted suddenly off Horeback, and threw himself into the Water, swimming strait towards Policrite.  
So as when Solon, who was a little behind, was come to the Seashore, you may easily imagine how much he was surprised to see Megisto covered with tears, Policrite all alone in a Boat, which the Waves bore towards the full Sea, and Philoxypes swimming towards Policrite; but he was so far from her, as it was to be believed that (the Boat floating still forward) his strength might fail him before he could get up to her; and that Solon might see his dear Daughter perish in his sight, as also a Prine whom he loved no less than her.  
To tell you also how strangely astonished Megisto was, to see Philoxypes throw himself into the Sea, and presently after to see Solon come, is not a thing easily done. Nor yet to set forth Policrites thoughts, when she knew Philoxypes, and saw him in so great danger for her sake.  
This gallant personage told us notwithstanding afterwards, that she no sooner knew him, but the object of her vows altered; and that ceasing to think on her own danger, all her prayers were poured forth for Philoxypes. This mean while Solon was upon the shore with Megisto, whose mind was not then at liberty enough to tell him how this misfortune happened; telling him only that Policrite was lost.  
And to say truth, I think that upon this encounter, Solon's wisdom was put to a greater trial than ever it had been: and that it was much more easy for him to refuse a Crown, then to see Policrite and Philoxypes in the danger they were in, without giving apparent tokens of despair.  
Yet this famous man kept himself within the lawful bounds of sorrow; and not doing any thing unworthy of himself, did notwithstanding, feel what ever pains a tender and generous soul could suffer under.  
This mean while though Philoxypes was but lightly clad, for the spring was already very hot in our Island, he could not swim with that facility as he might have done, had he been naked; so as Policrites Boat driving still away, he could not get up unto it.  
One might see this young maid use some bootless endeavours to stay this little Boat, but 'twas impossible for her to do it: nay, she did things which she herself knew were of no avail, yet could not keep from doing them.  
One might likewise observe Philoxypes to strive to his utmost, and then he seemed to be ready to perish through weariness. But at last being got near the Boat, sometimes one might see the Boat driven near unto him by one Wave, and sometimes born from him by another; for it went to and fro with the wind.  
It was so near him as he might hear Policrites voice, not being able to answer her, so much was he out of breath with swimming.  
Sir, said she, Let me perish; do you return to the shore; and strive not bootlesly to save me.  
You may imagine whether so obliging a command did not oblige Philoxypes to redouble his forces. At last, Sir, after that Solon had seen the Waves rise up more than once, ready to over-turn the Boat, and swallow up Philoxypes, who was now able to do no more, a great Wave having driven the Boat towards him, he luckily laid hold of the rope whereby it was fastened formerly to the Sea-bank.  
You may imagine, Sir, what Philoxypes joy was then, as likewise what that of Policrite, Solon, Megisto, Dorida, and the other women that were upon the shore; they all shouted for joy.  
Yet, was it not yet time to rejoice; For though it be not hard to guide a floating Boat, yet Philoxypes was so weary, as there was reason to despair of his ever accomplishing what he had so happily begun; he was seen to sink twice under water, yet never quit the rope which he had in his hand. Think Sir, how great Policrites grief was then, and with how many tears she repaied the pains he took to save her. One might observe this Amorous Prince do two contrary things; for he would look back upon the shore, that he might the sooner bring back his Dear Policrite thither; and sometimes believing he should perish without saving her, he would at least have the contentment of seeing her at his last gasp.  
He looked thus, sometimes towards the shore, sometimes on Policrite: and things were in this condition, when Philoxypes and Solon's servants, who carried a good way behind by reason of some accident which had befallen one of their horses, were come up, amongst which was one of Philoxypes his gentlemen, who being skilful in swimming, threw himself instantly into the water, and helped his dear Master to guide Poliorite back unto the shore, where this Prince was no sooner arrived, but that his force failing him he swooned.  
'Tis needless to tell you what Solon, Megisto, and all the rest that were on the shore, did to aid him. As for Policrite, she was so surprised, and so afflicted, to see what condition Philoxypes was in, as she was not sensible of the joy of having escaped so great a danger: but at last, after having carried Philoxypes into one of those little Huts, and having by the means they used, brought him to life again, and dried his apparel, he asked where Policrite was? whom Solon brought to him out of a little chamber whither she had retired herself, though she had not yet perfectly shaken off the fear she had been in of herself, and of Philoxypes.  
But at last all being retired that were in that little Hut, save Megisto, Policrite, Dorida, Philoxypes, and Solon. Solon desired Megisto to tell him, why she had quitted the little abode which he had caused to be built for her? wherefore she was come to this place, and where Cleanthes was? wherefore they had left no order to acquaint him with their removal? and how this last misfortune had befallen Policrite? But, said he, Sister, speak freely without any wise disguising the truth. For Prince Philoxypes knows I am your Brother, that Policrite is my Daughter: and I know also that he does her the honour to love her; therefore conceal nothing for his respect, for he hath now a deeper share in Policrite, than I have, since I have given her to him; and that he may now lay a new claim unto her, by having saved her life.  
I leave you to imagine, Sir, how Policrite was surprised to know that she was Solon's Daughter, whom she knew to be a great and excellent man, but whom she know not to be her Father; and to know at the same time that she was bestowed on Philoxypes; she blushed, but with a great deal of modesty; and looking upon Megisto, as if she would ask her whether it were true or no, that she was Solon's daughter? she confirmed her in that belief; and afforded her leisure so to confound the joy she had to see Philoxypes again, with that of her knowing herself to be daughter to so famous a man, as nothing appeared in her countenance but what so great an honour might cause in her.  
Philoxypes beginning then to speak, said as obliging things to Solon in Policrites behalf, as in his own; and Megisto was somewhile before she could satisfy her Brother's curiosity. But at last she told him; That knowing the love Prince Philoxypes bore to Policrite, she had thought it fitting to acquaint Policrite only, that she was more than what she took herself to be, to the end she might know how to treat Philoxypes with more indifferency; and that she might think herself the less obliged to him for his affection: That Cleanthes and she, having observed that this had produced a contrary effect in Policrite, and Prince Philoxypes having showed much passion in the last visit which he made them, she confessed the ones worth, and the others youth, had caused some apprehension in her: that in pursuit hereof, knowing that the King was at Claria, and fearing lest Philoxypes might speak to him of Policrites beauty, she had advised Cleanthes to quit his abode, which in effect they had done, and were come to this little Maritine Hamlet, where Cleanthes was acquainted with an old Fisherman, who had left them his Hut, being himself gone to live with a son of his: that they had left a young Slave at their former place of abode, with direction, that if Solon should come thither, he should wish him to come the first day of the next ensuing Moon, to a Temple which they named unto him, where Cleanthes would not fail to be on the same day to meet him when he should come thither.  
That since that time, Cleanthes had learned by the Priest of the little Temple which was near their former abode, that this Slave was dead; so as knowing that the time of Solon's return drew near, Cleanthes resolved to go live himself alone at Paphos, knowing that when he should return to Cyprus, he would not fail to wait upon the King, and so he could not miss of him; to which purpose he was gone thither that very morning: that Policrite, who had no better pastime, especially since they had left their former abode, then to draw every day something or other upon her Table-books: seeing all the Fishermen were gone from their little Hamlet, leaving no Boat behind them, save that wherein they had seen her, and wherein there was neither Rudder nor Oar, sat down in it, and not minding whether it were well fastened to the shore or no, was designing forth that little rural float of Boats, which went still further from her: that she was so attentive to her work in hand, that as she herself had told them, she did not perceive the Boat wherein she was, was loosened from the Land, and went floating as the winds blew it: so as said Megisto, coming forth to look after Policrite, I saw her in the posture I have told you, and skreeked out so loud, as I made her perceive the danger she was in, not being able to help her, there not being one man left in the whole Hamlet; and all the fisherboats, having already doubled a Cape of Land, whereby we lost sight of them.  
Megisto having ended her relation, Solon began admire the providence of the gods in the guidance of worldly things; and considering that unless Philoxypes and he had lost their way, Policrite in all appearance had been lost, he could not sufficiently praise the goddess, who had so well received his sacrifice; in effect, this Temple of Venus Urania, hath got much renown by this adventure. But Sir, to abuse your patience no longer, I will only tell you, that in stead of going to Paphos, Philoxypes and Solon went the next day to Claria, whither they brought Megisto, Policrite, Dorida, and all the women that attended them, after that Philoxypes had largely rewarded all the fisher-men's wives for their Hospitality and courtesy showed to Policrite. To tell you how great Philoxypes and Policrites joy was, would be no easy matter, and to relate unto you in what terms this happy Lover expressed his satisfaction to Policrite, and with what an obliging modesty she received the testimony of his affection, and gave him some marks of hers, would be to undertake too difficult a task. For to learn in one and the same day, that she was Daughter to the so Illustrious Solon, and that she was to be wife to Philoxypes, were two things wherewith her soul was divided. Philoxypes failed not to show Policrite her Pictures in his Gallery, which, though rarely handsome, came much short of her. The next day Solon sent to inquire out Cleanthes at Paphos, where he was found and brought to Claria. Necessary order being taken for it, Cleanthes, Megisto, Policrite, and Dorida, had clothes made answerable to their condition.  
The next morning the Princess of Salamis, and the Princess Agharista, being advertised by their brother Philoxypes of the truth of his Adventure: these two fair Princesses, I say, who loved him dearly, who had learned Policrites Illustrious birth by this advertisement, and who did reverence Solon as a god, went to Claria, to conduct this beautiful creature to Paphos.  
But good gods! how they were surprised with her extreme beauty, comparing which with her Pictures, they found her to exceed them far; but if she appeared fair unto them, she seemed yet more spiritual.  
She had somewhat in her of admirable modesty, which having nothing in it of Rustic, rendered her yet more pleasing: she had a soul doubtlessly fraught with all that innocency which she had preserved amidst those Rocks: but withal a mind and humour, wherein were all the Charms which the Court could afford.  
For Megisto being rightly Solon's Sister, knew as well as any one what was requisite in, and did necessarily become those of her Sex, and had perfectly instructed Policrite therein.  
Young Dorida appeared also to be very fair, and lovely at the Court; where the King received Solon, Cleanthes, Megisto, Philoxypes, and Policrite, with unexpressible joy and honour. And this so much the more, as that being at last, resolved to content Princess Aretephiles ambition, that so he might satisfy his own love, had made her be told the day before, that it should be her fault if she were not Queen.  
But if Aretephile were Queen of Cyprus, Policrite was the Queen of Beauty; none but the Princess of Salamis could any way dispute that glorious Empire with her. In fine, Sir, there was nothing heard of now, but feasts and rejoicing. Solon being of necessity to be gone, they hasted the consummation of those famous marriages: The king would have one Ceremony serve for them both; nor did Cyprus ever see any thing of more glorious, though it were done with precipitation. Solon called then to mind Epimenides his predictions, and confessed that there was somewhat of Divine in that holy man. But his Country's interest prevailing more with him, than whatsoever other interests, he departed for Athens, so as some tears of sorrow did for a while a little allay Policrite's joy; but to comfort her, young Dorida was left with her, when Cleanthes and Megisto embarked themselves with Solon. This was the condition Sir, wherein this great man left the Court of Cyprus: to wit, the King highly content: Queen Aretephile as highly satisfied; and Philoxypes and Policrite so happy, as wishes could not add thereunto.  
Within a few days after, the Prince of Sicily sent to ask the Princess Agharista, sister unto Philoxypes, in marriage; and it was consented unto. Also it was included in the conditions of the marriage that he should send some certain Troops unto you, as the King of Cyprus already had. And since it was I who had the honour to conduct the Princess Agharista into Sicily, I accepted of the employment which was offered me, to come hither: And returning unto Cyprus to accommodate myself with necessary equipage, the Prince Philoxypes charged me to relate his adventure unto you; and to entreat you from him, that you would not lessen his good fortune by depriving him of your friendship, which is infinitely dear and precious unto him.  
As soon as Leontidas had made an end, Artamenes assured him, that if the felicity of Philoxypes were never lessened but by the want of his affection, he might be certain to be happy for ever. Thimocrates and Philocles seemed to be exceeding joyed at the satisfaction of a Prince whom they infinitely loved; Artamenes also was doubtless as pleasant as any one in his present condition could be: But his state stood upon such terms as he could not hear of either any good or bad adventures without some sorrow; for when the felicity of any one was discoursed upon, and comparing it with his own misfortunes, he always sighed: and also when he heard of any disastrous acoident, he sighed still: So that it was very true, that experience in misfortunes makes a soul sensible of compassion. He rejoiced then at the good fortunes of Philoxypes, but it was with a sigh; and he testified unto Leontidas, how sorry he was not to be in a condition, wherein he might make the Prince Artibies and himself see, how infinitely dear the recommendations of Philoxypes was unto him. But Leontidas (said he unto him) you are come to serve a great and most just King, who will never suffer your virtues to be unrecompensed, as well as if I were at liberty. Sir (answered Leontidas) it would be a difficult matter to persuade all Asia, that the King of Medes is just in all things, as long as you are a prisoner. Kings (replied Artamenes with much wisdom) do sometimes commit injustice, innocently; because they are persuaded they have reason for what they do; and such as suffer such injustice as I speak of, are themselves unjust, if they do not endure them without murmur or complaint. Thimocrates, Philocles, & Leontidas were ravished with the prudence of Artamenes: and to see he knew how to make use of bad fortune as well as good; and so they left him, making a thousand new protestations of inviolable fidelity. But all the while he endured his strict imprisonment with invincible patience; all his illustrious friends had no other thoughts but how to get him out. Ariobantes, whom Ciaxares had left Regent in the Kingdom came from Themiscira unto Sinope, as well to render an account of his office, as to advertise the King, how all the inhabitants of Themiscira, Amasia, and that part of Cappadocia, which was not revolted, began to speak high, that they would send deputies unto the King, to desire him that Artamenes might be set at liberty. Sir, (said Ariobantes unto Ciaxares) all Galatia says the same: and all your three Kingdoms cannot brook, that a man whom they reverence as a god, should be in prison: Also that which I tell you of Cappadocia and Galatia, I understand that all Medea intent the same: Ciaxares hearkened unto Ariobantes, but returned no answer, because he stayed for the result of the King of Armenia's answer, before he would resolve upon any thing: Mean while, Chrisantes and Feraulas were continually negotiating, both by their own endeavours, and the solicitations of all the Kings, Princes and friends which Artamenes had: Ciaxares was never without some about him who was speaking for this illustrious prisoner: The King of Phrygia was no sooner gone out, but the King of Hyrcania came in, and after him succeeded Persodes or Hidaspes: In short, either by Aglatidas, or Thimocrates, or Philocles, or Gobrias, or Gadates, or Thrasibulus, or Madates, or Artucas, the name of Artamenes was perpetually pronounced. If Ciaxares went to the Temple, the sacrificers spoke of him: If he went into the streets of Sinope, the inhabitants kneeled and begged his liberty: If he went out to walk in the fields or Camp, all the soldiers petitioned for their General: and except that old friend to Aribeus, who always held intelligence with Artaxes, there was not one but was ready to serve Artamenes: so that this man whose name was Metrobates, was doubtless the only man, that had a design to destroy him: Martesia for her part, who was informed by Feraulas of all that passed, was extremely glad to see the merit of Artamenes so applauded; and to see that it was not with him, as with other favourites, who when fortune forsakes them, than all the world does the like; but that on the contrary, the love of every one augmented with his misfortunes: She also received every day by Feraulas, a compliment from Artamenes: who told her that his prison had wrought no alteration in him, but that he still retained his passion, as well as his civility: As all things stood in this condition, Megabises returned, and came unto the King, when very many were with him, and more still pressed after him when he entered, to hear news: Ciaxares no sooner saw him, without making any secret of his answer, well, Megabises (said he unto him) let us know how they have received my Daughter into Armenia; will that King restore her unto me, as he is obliged to do? Sir, answered Megabises, my journey has not had happy success; I cannot know who the King is which the Princess spoke of in her paper: the King of Armenia will not acknowledge that she is in his dominions, although there is great appearance she is: nor did I find the Prince Tigranes in his fathers Court. But yet (said Ciaxares unto him) how did that King receive you? Sir (answered Megabises) when I came at Artaxates, and had sent unto the King to demand audience, he made me wait three days; and during that time I was always carefully observed by several people: Afterwards, according to those commands which I had received from your Majesty, I told him, that since you understood the Princess your Daughter was within his dominions, you had sent me unto him to demand her: I thought (said he unto me very fiercely) you were come to solicit me about the payment of that Tribute, which I paid unto Astyages, but will not pay unto Ciaxares, since I never promised it: But as for the Princess Mandana, she is not in my power, and though she were, questionless I would not restore her, but would keep her for a hostage, until by an authentic Treaty, your Master would acknowledge, that the Kings of Armenia, are not Tributary Kings. Sir, (said I unto him) consider well what you say, before you dismiss me: for the King my Master knows most certainly that the Princess is in your dominions: I will cause her to be searched for, said he unto me, and she shall be treated according to her quality; but if she be here, I tell you once again, that I will not send her unto the King of Medes, until he has quitted his pretensions unto any Tribute out of Armenia: Let him be contented, (said he unto me) that fortune has given him such a man as has made him so full of conquests; and let that comfort him for the loss of a poor Tribute. Sir, (said I unto him) if you give me no other answer but that, I have orders to tell you, that the King my Master, will come himself with an Army of an hundred thousand men and fetch the Princess his daughter: Go then speedily (said he unto me) and bid him prepare himself; and tell him, there are no such valiantsouldiers in the world as those who fight for their liberties: and that since Artamenes is in prison (as I understand he is) the Prince Tigranes my son will not make any great difficulty of it to fight him; and perhaps victories will not come so cheap unto him as they have done. Megabises did know very well that there was no great prudence in speaking thus unto Ciaxares, before so many people; nor to tell so precisely what the King of Armenia said concerning Artamenes: But thinking that perhaps it would be advantageous unto him, he resolved to do so: Then he ended his relation, by telling, that after he went out from the King of Armenia, they brought him commands to be gone out of Artaxates the next morning, and that they guarded him unto the utmost frontiers of Armenia. Ciaxares hearing the answer of this Prince, was in a high and choleric passion; and presently resolved upon war: No, no, said he, I make no question but Mandana is in Armenia; she herself has writ it, and Martesia confirms it; also the answer of this audacious Prince do tell it plainly: But yet (said the King of Phrygia unto Megabises) were you not informed by any whether there were any foreign Princess arrived at that Court? Yes Sir, said he, for I heard, that there came once some women, whose quality every one was ignorant of; and that they were sent unto a Castle, towards the Country of the Chaldeans, but stayed not at Artaxates. No, no, (said Ciaxares once again) there needs no more information; Mandana is in Armenia, and I must carry the war thither. And by consequence (said the King of Phrygia, with as much generosity as boldness) we must have Artamenes out of prison; for Sir, if your soldiers do not see him in the head of them, but that he should be left at Sinope, they will march but very slowly into Armenia, and perhaps not fight as they used to do, when they come there: also (added the King of Hyrcania) I cannot believe there is any better way to move the gods to become propitious, then to protect that man whom they have so much favoured. These two Princes were not the only persons who spoke thus, for every one in the chamber said the same. It seemed that the present necessity did work upon his former resolutions; and he did not so obstinately design to press out what the intelligence was which Artamenes held with the King of Assyria; insomuch as there seemed to be great hopes of his speedy freedom. The King of Medes did suffer them to commend him in his presence without any anger, he did not reject their prayers in his behalf, and without any direct consenting, he made as if there were some resolutions in him of altering his opinion, but carried it as if himself would have the advantage of doing it, and not as forced unto it by any other. These resentments being perceived by all the illustrious company, they spoke no more unto him concerning Artamenes, fearing to prejudice him, whom all the world would advantage. Yet they went from the King in great hopes of his liberty, so that presently a general voice went about all the Town and Camp, that Artamenes was to be set at liberty; Artamenes himself was told as much for certain: His guards all wept for joy, Andramias could not hold from hoping to see him presently in the same condition he was formerly; Martesia was so transported, that she could not express her raptures of joy: Chrisantes and Feraulas were so glad of it, that Artamenes himself could be no more; for in consideration of the Princess, and the state she was in, he prised his liberty as the greatest good which could befall him. Well, (said he in himself) I may once again hope to do Divine Mandana some service; Oh heavens! could I ever believe to be in such a state as either to deliver my Princess or to die in her service? Can I flatter myself with such a pleasing thought, as both to see and be seen by her? Is it possible I should ever have the liberty to discourse with her of my most adoring passion? If this be so, why should I complain of those hardships I have endured? since I shall receive so ample a recompense: Thus did Artamenes entertain himself, whilst all the Town and Camp was rejoicing by reason of their hopes of his liberty; and to give him an addition of joy, Feraulas came into his chamber, and confirmed the news, telling him that it was not without ground; and falling into discourse concerning Mandana, he repeated almost all that Martesia told unto Chrisantes and himself: at the last, remembering himself how they had told him that when Martesia was on the banks of the River Halis, amongst the fishermen she made use of a box which had a picture in it, to bring her unto Sinope, and that the picture was Mandana's: Ha Feraulas, said he unto him, is there no means, by virtue of that credit which I know you have with Martesia, to move her unto so much favour as to send me that picture, with a promise to restore it unto her, if she please, the same day I come out prison? Sir, said he unto him, I do not think Martesia will deny it upon that condition: but as for giving it absolutely unto you, I think that her fears to dispease the Princess (who as you know is of such a nice virtue, as that she will scruple at the smallest things) will not permit it: also she herself is so much enamoured with it, that it would be a piece of great difficulty to obtain it from her for ever; but yet for a certain time doubtless she would not refuse it: Artamenes then engaged Feraulas to use his best endeavours; and Feraulas charged with this commission, left him, and left him with more joy than he had a long time found in his heart. Ciaxares for his part, was secretly pleased in himself to be overcome, and as it were constrained to free Artamenes; yet sometimes he would be very angry that he could not exactly know what that intelligence was which he could not discover: But after all, the high merits of Artamenes, the great acts he had done: the many obligations unto him; the present necessity of his valour; all these were to prevalent in his mind, that he resolved to set Artamenes at liberty, the same day he was to march with his Army towards Armenia. But whilst he was in so advantageous a resolution for himself, and so beneficial for his daughter; so pleasing unto the famous prisoner, and so general a joy unto all Asia, especially such as had interest themselves in his fortune, Metrobates only, that close enemy of Artamenes, and that old friend unto Aribeus, was in extreme sorrows. This man had a soul so ambitious, that he valued not by what stairs he ascended unto greatness, so he could but get up. There happened many passages in his transactions, which moved Artamenes whilst he was in the height of his fortune, not to esteem him; & by consequence not to do such good offices as he did unto all others: For Artamenes, thought it a piece of great injustice unto unfortunate men of honour, to load with benefits those who deserved them not, whilst others more meritorious were in misery. Moreover, Metrobates being linked unto the fortunes of Aribeus, had ever followed his principles: and Artamenes destroying him just at that time when Metrobates was in highest hopes to receive recompense for all the services he had done him, this man therefore was so much incensed against Artamenes, that he would enterprise any thing which might conduce unto his ruin. Chrisantes and Feraulas were informed of his bad intentions, but since he did not openly transact against their master, and since they could not devise what ill office he was able to do him, they had not recourse unto any violent ways to defeat him; as well because they were both wise and virtuous, as because it might be prejudicial unto Artamenes: neither could they handsomely discover his designs; for the party who informed them of the ill will of Metrobates, died a little after with sorrow that he had been the cause of Artamenes his imprisonment: moreover, as the state of things than stood, they had no ground to believe any thing could obstruct his liberty, since it was demanded by a great Army, and by three whole kingdoms. But on the contrary, it was almost an infallible certainty, that a man who was equally beloved both of vanquished and Vanquishers would be set at liberty, and that none durst show their hatred, no not Metrobates himself. As he was burning in his secret envy at the universal joy which all the world expressed for the freedom of Artamenes, He received intelligence from Artaxes who was commander in chief at Pteria, and who understood that Ortalques had been to tell the King of Assyria something, though he could not exactly tell what; but it was in all probability Artamenes who sent him, for he knew him to be his servant, and that he had brought orders from the King, when he was in Bythinia: he whom Artaxes sent unto Metrobates, was commanded not to go into Sinope, lest he should be stopped, but to send some unsuspected messenger to bid meet at the Temple of Mars: Metrobates, having received this notice, failed not to go thither: and he no sooner understood from the confident of Artaxes of Ortalques his voyage unto Pteria, but he began to conceive some hopes of disturbing the public joy: But since he had many things to talk of with this man, and fearing to be seen in his company, at a place so much frequented as a Temple, they went to walk by the Seaside, and just in the same place where Artamenes had heretofore been, when he found the signs of the Princess her shipwreck: and being come close unto the Cabin where the Prince Mazares had been carried, and where they told Artamenes he died. When he was there, he desired to find out some pretence to rest himself, to the end he might write unto Artaxes: having Ink and Paper in his Pocket, for that purpose. But as chance sometimes works wonders, the fishers who dwelled in that Cabin, and who were very affectionate unto Artamenes, though he had been but a little while amongst them, seeing such a man as Metrobates amongst them, took the liberty to ask, whether Artamenes was going to be set at liberty, as the reports of the town went and as they wished it? Metrobates was surprised to hear Artamenes named in a place where he thought there was none who had any interest in his fortune; he asked them, whether they knew him whom they seemed to love so well? and they answered, that they had the honour to see him in this Cabin; and told him, how he found Mazares there when he was dying; and the better to circumstance their tale, they told him in their manner, how that Prince spoke unto him concerning the Princess Mandana, and gave him a Scarf, also said thus unto him. Is it you, whom the affection of a great Princess, has made you the most happy man, and whom I have made the most unfortunate, by depriving you of one who loved you so well? Though they did not directly relate the same words which Mazares used, yet they used others, which made the matter worse, thinking it more advantageous for Artamenes, by relating how the Princess loved him well, since the Prince Mazares as he was dying, said it: But said they further, certainly Artamenes does love her also, for he put a hundred questions unto the dying Prince, and when he was told that in all likelihood she was dead, he went out of this Cabin so furiously and desperate, as never was man; and taking a scarf with him which the other had given him, he went unto the Se-aside, as if he would have thrown himself into it: Metrobates who had his comment upon every word these poor honest men related, began to suspect that Artamenes was in love with Mandana, and that this secret which was between the King of Assyria and him, was a secret of Love and Jealousy together. So seeming to like of the people's affection unto Artamenes, and telling these fishers, that he would ere long be at liberty, he went out of the Cabin, and taking his leave of Artaxes his friend, returned to Sinope, well satisfied with his voyage: As he passed by the house of Artucas, he accidentally saw Feraulas and Chrisantes come out, who had been to visit Martesia; and to afford him more matter, to prejudice Artamenes, one of Metrobates his domestics was brother unto a boy which served Artucas: so that when he saw Feraulas and Chrisantes come out of this house, he desired to know whether they frequented it very often; and to that end he employed the ingenuity of his servant, to discover by the means of his brother, to find out whether it was to Artucas or to Martesia that they went. This boy was very young, and his brother used both cunning, and gifts, and threatenings unto him to make him discover the truth: and though his master had forbidden him to tell that Martesia was two or three days in Sinope before it was publicly known, yet he told unto his brother, and promised to tell him all he knew concerning the visits of Feraulas and Chrisantes: so that he understood by this boy his brother, that whilst Martesia was concealed in the house of Artucas, they did both of them visit her: and that ever since she came thither Feraulas did visit her every day, also Chrisantes, very often. There did need no more to satisfy such a mistrusting mind as that of Metrobates: and when he called to memory a hundred passages which he regarded not before, he did no longer doubt but that Artamenes was in love with the Princess, and that the Princess knew it, or at least suspected it; He being thus furnished with such strong arguments to ruin Artamenes, he went unto the King's bedside, who treated him very kindly; for this Prince knowing how Aribeus loved him, thought that since Metrobates was not engaged on his side, it was an infallible sign of his fidelity, not imagining how this man remained here as a spy for Aribeus. Metrobates then being in the night with the King, when none could disturb the freedom of speaking, he thought to effect his design. Yet notwithstanding, he would not begin to speak concerning Artamenes: but stayed a while in hopes the King, whose mind was taken up with nothing but the Armenian war, with the Princess her captivity, and with the liberty of Artamenes, would speak something which might give him an occasion to execute his design, without making any affectation appear in his discourse: at last Ciaxares gave him such an opportunity, as he desired; Metrobates, (said he unto him) are you of the opinion with the rest, that Artamenes will serve me with as much zeal and fidelity, as he hath heretofore? Is it not to be feared that his great soul will not suffer him to forget his prison? I believe Sir (replied, Metrobates) that Artamenes will forget all, and remember all to deliver the Princess Mandana: but yet (said the King unto him) Is it not possible to guess what this secret is, which I must ask no more, since I am resolved to set him at liberty who will not reveal it unto me? Sir, (replied Metrobates) If I durst tell your Majesty my thoughts, perhaps I should absolutely undeceive you in your opinion, that Artamenes will not serve you for the future as well as heretofore: for since it was myself who was the cause of his imprisonment, because from my hand you received that letter which the King of Assyria writ; so I think myself in some sort obliged to tell you something which I know will conduce unto his advantage, as well as I told you that which conduced unto his prejudice: when the King heard him speak in that manner, he pressed him extremely to explain himself: and Metrobates making himself very ingenious and sincere, told how an accident drove him into the fisher's Cabin, to write a letter in behalf of one of his friends which by chance he met withal, and related unto him how those fishers told him that Artamenes was passionately in love with the Princess: he did so aggravate the despair which Artamenes was in when he heard the Princess was dead, that he did fully possess the King's mind with the knowledge of what he desired to know: It seems Metrobates (said he unto him) by your discourse that Artamenes is in love with my daughter: Sir (said he) I do confess it is in that, which I would do Artamenes service; and I dare assure your Majesty, that since he has such a noble passion in his soul, he will forget his prison, and be more valiant and faithful then ever he was; for Sir, (said he in such a manner as if he had no ill intentions towards him) the love of Artamenes will do the virtue of Mandana no wrong: Beauty upon a Throne is like the sun in heaven, every one has liberty to behold it; and as glorious light does not impair it rays, although it shine not always upon flowers: so the beauty of the Princess, although it captivate others besides Kings, is not to be blamed. In the mean time, this subtle poison which Metrobates had infused into the King's mind, did afterwards operate in his heart; and caused him to remember some light suspicions which he had of Artamenes his love, when he first put him in prison; he would have Metrobates repeat over what the fishers had told him; but Metrobates feigning as if he had not well enough remembered; nor sufficiently hearkened unto them, to assure himself that all he had said was positively true, therefore he offered to go again the next morning and more exactly inform himself. The King whose mind was much troubled, commanded him not to fail, but endeavour to discover all that ever he could concerning such an important business as that. Metrobates seemed to be very sorry, for those vexations he had put into the King's mind, and told him, he would use his best endeavours to learn out any thing, that might make his soul to enjoy its rest. In the mean while Ciaxares was extremely troubled; for when he remembered himself, that Artamenes, never asked for his liberty since he was imprisoned, until such time as he knew the Princess was living, therefore he made that a ground of his suspicion, and thought he was in love with her. Moreover he remembered his extreme violent sorrows when he returned unto Themiscira, and related how he had relieved the King of Assyria, and facilitated the carrying away of the Princess Mandana: he called to mind that excessive sorrow he saw in his eyes, when he was returned unto Sinope, and acquainted him with the shipwreck of the Princess: He passed over that night with such restless imaginations, and expected Metrobates most impatiently, who seeming as if he had been to inform himself better in such things as the King desired to know, returned and went unto the King's Closet, where the King as soon as he was dressed, did use to be. As soon as the King saw him, he turned towards him and said: well Metrobates, what more can you inform me of? must Artamenes be set at liberty, or must I keep him closer? Metrobates then seemed very sad, and seemed as if he knew much more than he durst speak; Sir said he unto him: I beg your pardon, since it is my destiny to bring none but ill news always unto your Majesty. Such crimes as these (replied Ciaxares) rather deserve recompense, than either pardon or punishment: for commonly, Kings never hear of such things as are unpleasant unto them but from those who are his most faithful servants. Metrobates grew more bold upon the King's answer, and told him, how it appeared by that discourse which Mazares made of Artamenes, that he not only loved her, but also the Princess loved him again: Then he repeated word for word all that the fishers told him: How, (cried out Ciaxares) could my daughter know of the fond passion of Artamenes, and endure it? If she can Metrobates, my best course were to let her remain still in the hands of the King of Armenia: for if she be of so slavish a soul, she cannot be better then in the prison of my enemy. Sir, (said he unto him) I beseech your Majesty be not so much transported: the affection of the Princess is not perhaps so much to be blamed, for Artamenes is furnished with such high qualities, that although his condition seems to be but mean, since he will not tell us what it is, yet the Princess is excusable, though she should be something indulgent towards him: No, no, Metrobates (said the King) you do not speak as you think; Such as my daughter ought to receive only testimonies of respects from such as Artamenes; and aught to reject the least suspicion of any love, and banish it from them for ever. That which does most puzzle me (said the King) is that I have imprisoned both Artamenes and Araspes; because finding a correspondency between the King of Assyria and Artamenes I supposed that Araspes helped the King to escape: But if Artamenes be in love, is it credible he should set his Rival at liberty? and since it is so that he did not set him at liberty: what can this secret intelligence be which moved him to write, as he hath unto him: indeed Metrobates, I know not how to expound this Riddle: if I look upon the King of Assyria's letter, I find that Artamenes is ambitious, and has treated with my enemy: if I hearken unto the discourse of Mazares, I find Artamenes is a rash man, and my daughter has lost her wits, what should I think of these things? and how shall I transact? Mandana is a captive in Armenia, and Artamenes is a prisoner in Sinope; I am talking of giving him that is here his liberty; and intending to send an Army to deliver the other in Armenia: Yet if it be so, that Artamenes is in love, and that Mandana knows it, and suffers it; I must then ruin Artamenes, and forsake Mandana. But in doing so, I must dishonour my Daughter in the eyes of all Asia, and also dishonour myself. Sir (replied then the wicked Metrobates) I hope your Majesty will never come to that, for if it should appear, (as I think it will not) that Artamenes is so much in fault, as shall move you to ruin him, you will not want other specious pretences to cloak it, and never bring the Princess upon the Stage. But Sir (added he) I think it not expedient, your Majesty should so soon release Artamenes; but endeavour first to make matters more clear than yet they are; for me thinks these Sicilian Troops which are come hither, and which Philoxypes sent unto Artamenes to be presented unto you, are to be a little suspected; there being already some of Cyprus Troops in your Army, which had never been in it but by his means: And truly, if you remember it, the Prince Artibies spoke unto your Majesty after an odd manner: And Megabises also at his return from Armenia, told such things unto you, as makes me conjecture, that there is some close design, which must not be ripe until Artamenes be at liberty. Who can tell Sir, whether all that is reported in Armenia, concerning the Princess be true? The friends of Artamenes do perhaps retain her by force in some place; and there is something in it which deserves to be made more clear before Artamenes be set free: And if your Majesty will appoint me, I shall use my best endeavours to make a more exact discovery. The King, whose soul was highly incensed, did command to do it accordingly: and because he would not seem to be moved with the counsels of Metrobates, who feared lest his design should be prevented, he would see no body that day, but caused it to be given out, he was not well: Mean while, Metrobates resolved to return at night, and tell the King all he knew concerning the journey of Ortalques unto Pteria; and how Martesia was three days concealed in the house of Artucas, before she would appear at Court: Also how Chrisantes and Feraulas did frequently visit her all the while. But Metrobates was more happy in his project than he thought to be: for the young Boy who was with Artucas, told his brother, who served Metrobates, that it was not above two hours since Feraulas was with Martesia, who was in private with him in her Closet: Their discourse together was long, and the name of Artamenes and Mandana was much used between them; that she opened a Box, and gave him something, which he believed to be a Letter: That Feraulas after this went out, and as he departed from her said, he would immediately carry that which she had given him, unto that party who expected him with much impatience. This Boy said further, that he went out after Feraulas, and followed him to the Castle, and afterwards unto the Chamber where Artamenes was kept prisoner. Metrobates having met with this intelligence, went unto the King with as much Melancholy in his face, as he had joy in his heart: As soon as he was entered into his Chamber, and saw none with him, Sir, said he unto him, I am forced to acquaint you, that without all question there is some considerable matter in it which must be discovered: for indeed (said he) I am certainly informed by a friend which I have in Pteria, that since Artamenes was a prisoner, Ortalques who brought the news of the Princess being living, hath been from Artamenes with the King of Assyria, who since is gone from thence, and none knows where he is: Also I understand further, by one of Artucas his Domestics, that Martesia was three days in his house before she saw your Majesty: she, I say, who had no more to tell you, but that the Princess Mandana was not dead: I know she sent a Letter unto Artamenes, and that there passeth not a day, but Feraulas doth visit her: Moreover I observe, that Chrisantes and he are continually going from one place to another: sometimes to the King of Phrygia; sometimes unto the King of Hyrcania; sometimes to Hidaspes, Thimocrates, Gadates, Gobrias, and others. Then Sir, all these Princes, are great admirers of Artamenes and his valour, and are apt to undertake any thing in his behalf. But (said Ciaxares then unto him) what course should I undertake to be more fully satisfied of these things, which I hardly need to make any doubt of? Sir, (said Metrobates unto him) I believe your Majesty would discover all, if Ortalques were arrested and brought to render an account of his voyage unto the King of Assyria: and if the Cabinet of Artamenes were searched, who since he is in hopes of liberty, will doubtless keep the Letter which Martesia sent unto him: It would not be amiss if Artucas, Martesia, Feraulas, and Chrisantes were secured: Moreover (added he) since certainly the quality and birth of Artamenes is very mean, I would have these men compelled to declare it: for the knowledge of it would produce three consequences: It would aggravate his crime against the Princess: his ingratitude to you more odious: and would perhaps banish him out of the mind of Mandana, if it be true, as in all likelihood it is, that her heart is full of affection unto Artamenes. The mind of Ciaxares was so sharp upon this advice, as he never considered how dangerous the design was: but on the contrary, he believed that if he should let all all these Kings and Princes understand that Artamenes was a Traitor; a man of a mean and despicable birth, and had absolutely failed in those respects which he ought unto the Princess his Daughter, they would all deny him any protection, and would with the first give counsel to destroy him: not but that he was much put to it, whom he should choose for executioners of his Orders: But as Metrobates was as bold as wicked, he offered himself, so his majesty would give him power, to act what he had advised unto. Ciaxares was a long while before he could resolve with himself; but at last, he thought the first business would be to search the Cabinet of Artamenes, and to that effect, he sent Orders unto Andramias, by Metrobates, to be assistant. Metrobates went then to Andramias, whom he did not find with Artamenes: But since great liberty was now allowed to visit this famous prisoner, Arbaces Lieutenant of the Guards under Andramias suffered him to enter with twelve of the King's Guard which followed him, for the King commanded him to make use of force, if a bare command would not do it. As he entered into the Chamber, he saw Artamenes locking his Cabinet very hastily because of the noise he heard. Sir, said he, going unto him, The King has Commanded me to bring this Cabinet unto him, and I beseech you be pleased to permit me to yield obedience unto him. Metrobates (said Artamenes unto him, and standing between the Table and him) cannot easily persuade me that the King has given him any such Commission, and therefore since I think he acts without his Orders, I will endeavour to hinder him from satisfying his particular curiosity. Sir, (said Metrobates unto him, and calling in the Guards, who were in the outer Chamber) I am able to yield obedience unto the King, therefore do not force me to use any violence upon you. Artamenes was so desperate at this accident, that he knew not what was best for him to do. It was in vain to resist; and to let him carry away the Cabinet, in which was a business of that import, he could not resolve, therefore turning towards the Table to open it. Then, suffer me (said he) to take that out, which is none of my own, before I give it you. But Metrobates having seized upon the Cabinet, commanding the Guards to keep off Artamenes; they were in a mind not to obey him: Yet when Metrobates threatening them, that the King would punish them, they hindered Artamenes from taking the Cabinet out of his hands: and Metrobates carried it away, the Guards following him. He came then with all speed unto the King's Chamber, commanding Arbaces to let none enter unto Artamenes until new Orders: but as he went he was not without his conceits; for indeed he did not directly know what it was which Martesia had sent unto Artamenes, and he was fearful it would not prove a business so criminal as he wished it: Yet since he could not imagine what innocent intelligence there could be between them, he went to Ciaxares with much boldness, and also much hopes; the resistance of Artamenes seeming unto him to be an infallible mark, that there was something in that Cabinet which would make against him: He did therefore very much aggravate the despair of this Illustrious Prisoner; and breaking open the Cabinet which was not full, because, Mandana's scarf remained upon the Table, when Artamenes did shut it, upon the entrance of Metrobates; then they began to look what was within it; and there was found some jewels and perfumes, one of Homer's Illiads rich bound up; likewise the Laws of Lycurgus and Solon; the Comedy of Thespis, some Verses of Sapph, and Erina's composing; certain Enigmas of the Princess Cleobuline; some small Geographical papers; the model of Babylon; the description and encampment of Ciaxares his Army before that Town; some Songs of the famous Arion, and many other such things: All this while Metrobates despaired of finding any thing against Artamenes, and Ciaxares was very glad of it: but at the last, finding a little golden enamelled Box, Ciaxares saw that the Picture of Mandana was within it, about which this Devise was written in the Cappadocian Language. 
 I am better in your Heart. 
  
This picture was made for a Princess of Cappadocia, whom Mandana loved very well and who loved her most tenderly again: So that this Princess dying before she had this picture, Mandana gave it to Martesia, who desired it of her. But alas, how extremely was Ciaxares surprised to find it there! and how jocund Metrobates, to see himself happier than ever he hoped for: The King's mind was so much troubled, that he neither knew what he did, nor what he saw, He read this harmless Motto which he thought to be so criminal; and afterwards cried out, who could have thought that ever Mandana would have spoke such a would unto Artamenes? How could that severe virtue which she seemed to own, suffer her to imagine such a piece of gallantry as this, in favour of a simple Cavalier, who wanders about the world, and none knows what he is? Ha, since it is so, as it is but too too true, Mandana has some further designs: Perhaps she is hid in the house of Artucas, where she stays only until Artamenes be at liberty; and then when he has got himself in the head of all those forces which are of his intelligence, he will take my Crown from me, and subvert my Throne. No, no, (said he unto Metrobates, and throwing the picture into the Cabinet again) we must lose no time; the guards of Artamenes must be changed: Chrisantes, Feraulas, Artucas, Orcalques, Martesia, and Andramias also must be secured, for I suspect him also. Sir, (said Metrobates) I know very well that this design is something dangerous to execute, yet I humbly offer myself and will adventure it, so I may have your Majesty's Guard to assist me: then I believe the respect which all people owes unto you, will keep them from opposing your will: So that except Andramias and Artucas who are men of rank, and Martesia who is a woman of quality, all the rest are inconsiderable; as for Chrisantes and Feraulas they are strangers, and doubtless are no more to be feared then their Master: and I am sure there is no danger in securing Ortalques. The King then recalling into his mind the discourses of Mazares unto Artamenes; and the journey of Ortalques unto the King of Assyria: the secret carriage of Martesia with Artucas: the frequent visits of Feraulas and Chrisantes: the picture of Mandana in the hands of Artamenes; and such a passionate Motto, too gallant for a Lady which made profession of so much virtue, he thought questionless to discover some great crime; and questioned no further but Artamenes was in love, and that Mandana allowed of it: In conclusion, being transported with anger, he caused Metrobates to take fifty of his Guard, to execute his pleasure before the passages in Artamenes Chamber was noised abroad. Andramias coming into the Castle as Metrobates was going out, he was easily arrested, as well as Ortalques who was with him: From thence going to take Artucas, he found Chrisantes and Martesia there, and took them three; conducting Martesia and a woman to wait upon her in a Coach unto the Castle, but carrying Chrisantes and Artucas on foot; afterwards, he went to look for Feraulas, but could not find him; for hearing by good fortune, that Metrobates had been in his Master's Chamber with a Guard, he was gone unto Hidaspes to acquaint him, where he found the King of Phrygia: Presently after he was come thither, they heard of Andramias his arrest; and also how Ortalques, Martesia, Chrisantes, and Artucas, were imprisoned in the Castle: and that Artamenes was kept more close than ever. So that hearing of all these passages at one time, and knowing that Metrobates had been to seek for Feraulas; the King of Phrygia would not have him stir out of the house of Hidaspes, because he might be much more serviceable unto his Master then if he were in prison. This Prince having sent in all haste to acquaint all the famous friends of Artamenes with it: they all went unto the King as fast as ever they could to know the cause of this sudden change. The King of Phrygia, the King of Hyrcania, Persodes, Thrasibulus, the Prince of Paphlagonia, the Prince of Licaonia, Ariobantes, Gadates, Artibies, Hidaspes, Adusius, Aglatidas, Gobrias, Madates, Artabases, Leontidas, Megabises, Thimocrates, Philocles, and many others, came thither; but it was told them, they could not see the King: Yet notwithstanding since they feared lest he should fall upon some violent resolution, they pressed so much, that at the last he commanded the King of Phrygia, and the King of Hyrcania only should enter, where they found him extremely sad. Sir, (said the King of Phrygia unto him) we are come hither to know whether your Majesty has any need of us: Yes, (answered the King in great rage) I do not think you will any longer protect and defend such an ungrateful, rash, and ambitious man as Artamenes; Who came into my Court, with no intent but to dishonour me: and assumes so much boldness, as to fix his eyes upon my Daughter: All her Ravishers are less worthy of my hate than he, since in taking her away, they have done nothing which is unworthy of her: But this insolent fellow, in ravishing away her heart, has done her an irreparable wrong, and mortally offended me. The King of Assyria, although he was a stranger unto her, and an enemy to the Medes, is yet a great King: The King of Pontus, although he hath lost both his Kingdoms, yet he retains the Quality of a King: The Prince Mazares was Royally born, and lived in expectation of a Crown: But as for Artamenes, do doubtless he was born in a prison; his Parents were some slaves, else he would not hide his condition from us as he doth. Sir, replied the King of Phrygia, Artamenes has performed such Martial Actions in War, as me thinks sufficiently denotes the contrary to what you say. Artamenes (replied Ciaxares) has committed such a Crime in stealing away my Daughter's heart, that I will never pardon him; for he saw I denied her unto the King of Pontus, who had then two Crowns: He saw, that I Armed above a hundred thousand men, to fetch her out of the power of one of the greatest Kings in all Asia; and yet he presumes to bear such an assection unto her, as cannot be innocent; For if he do not design to marry her, than his aims are to defame her: and if his presumptuous thoughts do aim at marrying her, than his design is to set a slave upon the Throne of Medea, and doubtless to depose me hereafter, since it is not possible he can ever hope that I should consent unto his design: The truth is he has such unjust, so strange, and guilty thoughts, that death is too small a punishment for them, and him that owns them: yet Sir, (replied the King of Hyrcania) what new matter have you against him, since you were once in a mind to acquit him? A hundred things (answered Ciaxares) which makes me think of nothing but his ruin. Sir, (replied the King of Phrygia) such a resolution as that ought not to be tumultuously undertaken; and though Artamenes were culpable (as I believe him innocent) yet he hath so gained the hearts of the soldiers, that it is much to be feared, that if you should ruin him, it would make a great disorder in your Camp: Not at all (replied the King) for when I shall fully know the baseness of his birth, as doubtless I will know it, since know it, since I have Chrisantes in my power; and when I have published unto the world by a Declaration, that a common soldier of fortune, and perhaps something worse, is so audacious as to think upon the daughter of a King, and to take away his Crown; I believe there will be none so unjust as to oppose me in punishing such a one: For truly, it is most strange that such a man as Artamenes should be so insolent as to dare so much as to look upon my daughter: My daughter, I say, who hitherto has appeared as wise and prudent, as any in the world: But Martesia shall tell me, by what charms she lost her reason, and by what enchantments Artamenes made her forget her duty both unto herself and me. But Sir, (replied the King of Phrygia) you did accuse Artamenes for holding intellignece with the King of Assyria as a lover of your daughter, and now you accuse him for loving her himself; how can you reconcile these two things which seem so directly contrary? I know not (replied Ciaxares) but the rigour of punishment, and fear of death, will doubtless make Chrisantes, Ortalques, and Artamenes himself, confess that I yet know not: But Sir, (said the King of Hyrcania) what convincing reasons have you for it? I have a hundred, I tell you (replied Ciaxares) all which do plainly let me see that Artamenes does hold intelligence with my enemy and with my daughter, and that my daughter hates not him; there needs no more to move me to pronounce sentence of death against a man whom I so much loved, although he was of so base an extract. But Sir, replied the King of Phrygia, what if he should prove the son of a great King? he would have told it long since, replied Ciaxares, if he had been such a one: but certainly he is only a forward ambitious man whom fortune favours, and whom the simplicity of my daughter has made both happy and culpable; and when I am fully informed in all the circumstances of his crime, out of his own mouth, and by the confession of Martesia, Chrisantes, and Andramias, whom I suspect to be too much his friend: when I shall know, I say, by Artucas, Ortalques, Araspes, and by Feraulas, if I can catch him, all that love and ambition did prompt this secret enemy unto, than I will call you all to be witnesses of his condemnation. Sir, (said the King of Phrygia unto him) I do most humbly beseech your Majesty, not to condemn him upon surmises, & appearences he is perhaps one whom you do not know how great he is; and that affection which he has unto the Princess, also the intelligence he hath held with the King of Assyria, are not so criminal as you suppose them: aftewards, the King of Hyrcania added; I dare tell your Majesty thus much, that those services which Artamenes has done you, deserves a pardon for greater crimes than these: It is true, (replied Ciaxares) and truly I was resolved to pardon him for holding intelligence with my enemy: but that such a man as he should have any attempts upon my daughter, I shall never pardon that. These Princes seeing Ciaxares so incensed, would not urge him any further at that time; they only entreated him to examine the business very well, and not to condemn him but upon convincing proofs; as, that he was absolutely of a guilty correspondency with the King of Assyria; that he had plotted some unjust design with the Princess Mandana; and that he should prove no more than a vile slave (as he supposed him) or a common Cavalier: after this they left him, intending to advise altogether what was most expedient to be done: As they went out of the King's Closet, all they who were in the chamber gathered about them, to know how squares went; seeming by their discourse and actions, that they were ready to undertake any thing in behalf of Artamenes; but those Kings, being unwilling to inform them of any thing in that place, went unto Hidaspes, whither they were waited upon by all this multitude of brave men which this great alteration brought unto the King. They were no sooner there, but Feraulas who there expected them, desiring to speak a word in private unto the King of Phrygia, told him, that since he went out, he understood that Metrobates had taken the Cabinet of Artamenes from him, and carried it unto the King; he told him further, how certainly he would find Mandana's picture in it, which was never made for him; and that Mandana did not give it unto him, as it would be easily proved; and that Martesia did lend it unto him that same day: But though it was an easy matter to justify the Princess concerning this picture, yet there was no pretence to colour the love which Artamenes bore unto Mandana, which seemed to be the cause why he desired to have this picture in his prison. In conclusion, since all those who were with Hidaspes, were all of them friends unto Artamenes, this Prince said unto those who were not acquainted with his story, that he would engage his word unto them, Artamenes was the most faithful servant Ciaxares ever had; and that it would be a piece of good service unto the King of Medes, to hinder him for acting such a piece of great injustice: That moreover it was easy to be seen how Metrobates the old friend of Aribeus, was employed in this business; and that it was to be feared, this revengeful man, did much incense the King: That in the mean time it is expedient to keep the soldiers still in their good opinion of Artamenes and his innocency; and to that end it were requisite for every one to go immediately and give out all necessary orders in the Camp accordingly: and most of that illustrious company went in all haste to divulge the report of a new piece of injustice which had been due unto the famous and innocent prisoner; and none remained there but such as knew the story and life of Artamenes; To wit, the King of Phrygia, the King of Hyrcania, Persodes, Thrasibulus, Hidaspes, A●usius, and Feraulas, and then they consulted what was most expedient to be done in such a disastrous business: They all imagined that Chrisantes would never speak a word, neither concerning his Master's love, nor his birth, what torments sooner they put upon him: but they imagined also, that the more he denied to tell who Artamenes was, they more apt would the King be to believe, that his condition was base, and also thought him more criminal: They had some fears of Ortalques, lest he should confess something which might prejudice; for Feraulas understood from Artamenes, what his business was at Pteria: They apprehended also that Martesia, out of her fears of death, would discover nothing but the innocent affection of Artamenes unto the Princess: and being desirous to justify Mandana, she would never tell who Artamenes really was: In conclusion of all, the apprehended nothing but apparent causes of fear; and so no greater hopes in any thing than force; and they conceived that it was no certain way to save his life neither, since Ciaxares kept him in the Castle, and might chop off his head before they could be in any condition to relieve him; they resolved then to see how things would go in the morning, and in the mean time to keep themselves in a readiness to resist all manner of violence, if there should be any need. Feraulas spent that night in continual stirring; he went out of the Town unto the Camp, and there from Tent to Tent, from Hut to Hut, to infuse fresh desires into all the Captains and Soldiers to save the life of Artamenes; and returning unto the Town at break of day, he passed through four or five several places, before he could come at the house of Hidaspes. Never was such a disorder seen; all the inhabitants of Sinope said that they never could nor would suffer such a man as he to perish: The Soldiers both of the Town and Camp, spoke high, and said they would not endure it: The King's private Guards did but unwillingly obey and if Metrobates had not been very cautious, he would have found himself in a very sad condition: but he had no sooner arrested all these whom by the King's orders he was to imprison, but he sent in all haste unto Artaxes, to send him a thousand men, ready at the Gates of Sinope, in the beginning of the night, and at the same time he told the King, that he brought them from a Town whereof he was Governor: And Metrobates carried it so, that he caused these rebel Troops to enter into the Town and Castle that night; so that the next morning the friends of Artamenes were amazed, to see all strange faces, and Soldiers they knew not. Mean while, Chrisantes, Ortalques, Artucas, Andramias, Araspes, and Martesia, were to answer Metrobates unto these three equstions; The one, who Artamenes was? The other, what was the intelligence which he held with the King of Assyria? And the last, when he began to be in love with Mandana? Chrisantes fearing to prejudice his Master in saying he was Cyrus, and conceiving that he should as much prejudice him, if he left him in the conceit of his mean original, took therefore the medium betwixt those two extremes, and said, that he was descended from the most noble family, but that it was not permitted him to tell any further: & as for the matter of intelligence with the King of Assyria, he said that it was advantageous rather than any thing prejudicial unto Ciaxares, but he would speak no further concerning that particular. As for his demeanour towards Mandana, her to him, he said that since she was somuch obliged unto him, & was a debtor for the life of her father, & for so many victories which he had obtained for him, it was not at all strange if she did much estem of him, but forany further, he knewnot any thing. Ortalques for his part, he said that he knew nothing of any particulars between the King of Assyria and him, which could be any way obnoxious unto the King's service; for he knew they were enemies one to another: Andramias could make no answer, but all in the negative, unto all the questions; for indeed, he knew nothing at all concerning them. As for Martesia, she told Metrobates with as much prudence as boldness, that though her mistress had trusted her with any secret, yet would she never discover it, and that since she was placed with the Princess by the King himself, so she would render an account unto none but him. All this while, Artamenes was unconceivably perplexed. What, said he in himself, shall ever I be the cause that the King does accuse my Princess? cannot her virtue, her severity, and rigour keep her from their suspicions? but that they will blame her, and perhaps unjustly condemn her? oh most imprudent man that I am, to trust in those hopes they gave me? aught I not rather to have feared the capricious humour of my fortune: which did not promote me but only to throw me down with more precipitation? Alas Mandana, will the King think that you gave me that picture which he saw? and from thence will conceive a hundred false imaginations and all as false as it. Sometimes Artamenes fearing the fury of Ciaxares towards the Princess, did rather wish her in the power of a respective Rival as the King of Pontus was, then in the power of a violent and incensed father, as Ciaxares was: These apprehensions lasted not long, but he repented himself of his former wish; and when he considered that all hopes of his liberty was lost; and that he had caused the misfortunes of so many innocent persons; and how little appearance there was to avoid them otherwise then by death, he fell into extreme despair: his great soul notwithstanding did always endeavour to resist his sorrows: And if it had been only in consideration of himself, he would not have stood in need of all his constancy. All his guards were changed, and those Soldiers which Artaxes had sent were placed about him: so that he received no consolation at all. Since the King was well acquainted with his resolutness, although he once intended to examine him himself, concerning his birth, concerning the correspondency with the King of Assyria, and concerning his love, yet he did alter his opinion, and resolved to use others in the business whom he had in his power: and to that end, he promised them recompenses, he terrified them with most cruel punishments, and began to use them coarsely: But do what Metrobates could, he could not make them alter their answers, neither Chrisantes, nor Martesia, nor Ortalques: for as for the three others, they had nothing at all to say, Artucas did confess his cousin was three days in his house, before she she went abroad, but he said, the reason was, because she was not in a condition to be seen, or at the least, she gave him no other reason for it, and though indeed Martesia did desire to see Chrisantes and Feraulas, he could not tell what the business was. Metrobates did not relate their answers unto the King rightly, but on the contrary, did assure him they trembled when they spoke, and often contradicted themselves, and that ere long they would tell all: Mean while, the King would needs see Martesia, although Metrobates opposed it as much as he could: so that this courageous woman was guarded unto him: after she had done all due reverence unto the King, and behaving herself boldly like one that was innocent in the business. Martesia, (said he unto her) you are the confident both of Mandana and Artamenes: and I must have the truth from your mouth though I have met with it other ways. Sir (said she unto him) since I know not any thing which can prejudice those two Illustrious persons you name, I shall easily answer you: How Martesia (replied the King very angry) do you not think it prejudicial unto Mandana, to love Artamenes, as most certainly she does? I think Sir (replied she) that the Princess were one of the most unreasonable women in the world if she did not highly esteem him, and one of the most ungratfull also, if believing him so innocent as he is, she did not acknowledge those services which he has done your Majesty: But Sir, all the thoughts of the Princess are confined unto these two; she esteems him, and thought herself obliged unto it. But Martesia, replied the King, virtuous Princesses, who only esteem a bare Cavalier such as Artamenes, do not use to bestow their pictures upon him; Oh Sir, cried out Martesia, the Princess never gave that picture unto Artamenes; if it be found in his hands, it must needs be Feraulas who is a good friend of mine, and unto whom 〈…〉ent it, that showed it unto him, as a fine piece, for that picture Sir, was never made for me, much less for Artamenes: and if we were at Themiscira, I could easily prove ●t was made for the Princess of Pteria who died before she received it. Indeed Martesia, replied the King, this picture is found in the Cabinet of Artamenes, and doubtless, Mandana did send it by you to comfort him in her absence: No Sir, said Martesia, I cannot endure that the Calumny of wicked men should make you believe so; I do invoke all those gods whom I adore to witness, that the Princess does not know that Artamenes hath it, and you would be the most unjust Prince upon earth, if you should accuse the most innocent and the most virtuous Princess in the world of any such thing. But what were you doing, (replied he) those three days which you were with Artucas, before you saw me? Martesia being not well able to answer this last question, changed colour: yet presently assuming her confidence, Sir, (said she unto him) since I was not then in so handsome a condition to appear at Court, I had no disposition that another should acquaint you with what I had to say, therefore I thought that those three days might well be spared, since I knew you were not ignorant how the Princess was living: But all that while (replied the King) you saw Chrisantes and Feraulas: It is very true (said she) I did so, and 〈◊〉 endeavoured to comfort them in their sorrows, and to give them some hopes, that ere long your Majesty would know how innocent their Master was: you might have contented yourself (said this violent Prince) with concealing the weakness of your mistress, without justifying such a bold and unthankful person, as never remembering the baseness of his birth, durst cast his eyes upon my daughter. Sir, replied Martesia, when the King of Assyria was in your Court under the name of Philidaspes, you then thought his condition no greater than that of Artamenes: It is very true, replied the King, but that is no argument to persuade me Artamenes is any other then what I think him to be: yes Sir, replied Martesia, I should rather think Artamenes to be the son of a great King, than the son of a slave, what King, (said Ciaxares very angrily) can he be son unto? the King of Phrygia hath none? was the King of Hyrcania ever married? hath the King of Armenia more than two whom all the world knows? Had the King of Arabia ever any? is not the son of the King of Saces drowned? or can he be son unto the King of Persia, who as they say was never heard of and whose father yet mourns for? Sir, said Martesia (whom the name of Cyrus cau 〈…〉 should) I c 〈…〉 whose son Artamenes is; but let me tell you; that I am 〈◊〉 persuaded th' 〈…〉 does not know what he is; the King then being transported with Chol●● 〈…〉 se but take part with 〈…〉 ●amous 〈…〉 oner, and to 〈…〉 Princess, of 〈…〉 and herself 〈…〉 I know 〈…〉 to 〈◊〉 a diff〈…〉 between 〈…〉 I can make 〈…〉 Martesia and 〈…〉 Martesia) you 〈…〉 day repent of 〈…〉 say 〈…〉 being able to screw no 〈…〉 Martesia, 〈◊〉 her back, and w 〈…〉 lie troubled▪ He might know by her answers, although 〈◊〉 denied all, that there was a secret in the business which she would not reveal: The 〈…〉 s of Mazares, and Mazares dying were considerable, Mandana's picture was a con 〈…〉ing argument: the concealment of Martesia with Artucas; the frequent visits of 〈…〉 aulas, and Chrisantes: Ortalques his voyage unto Pteria, and a hundred circumstances which came into his memory, did most strongly persuade him, that Artamenes was most culpable; and the impossibility to find out his true condition, did the more confirm him in his belief that he was of a base descent, not but that when he considered sometims whether he would or no▪ how this extraordinary man had saved his life, had got him so many battles, had submitted so many Kings, he could not choose but wonder at the obscurity of his birth: yet since he could not understand what it was, he concluded, that it was such as he was ashamed to confess: so that passing from this thought unto another: Is Mandana (said he) descended from so many Illustrious Kings, and who herself must one day reign over so many people, and such great kingdoms, so weak, as to endure the unjust passion of an unknown man: Ah No, no, I must punish Artamenes for his boldness, and Mandana for her weakness; furthermore, when he saw that Feraulas would not suffer himself to be apprehended, he did imagine that to be an infallible sign of his knowledge of many things: for he knew that Feraulas was of such a courageous spirit, as the fear of his life would never make him flee away. In conclusion, the king did suck so much venom out of every imagination, that his mind became so much incensed against Artamenes, as he would not suffer the king of Phrygia to speak any more in the behalf of him. The king of Hyrcania, was no less rudely rejected than he: And seeing so many Princes and men of high Quality about him: How is it possible (said he unto them all) that you should thus importunately press me, in the behalf of such a man, as you know not who he is? If he would himself say, he were a Subject unto any one of you, I should then with more patience hear you interest yourselves in his fortunes. But questionless, he is of some such inconsiderable Country, that he is ashamed to own his very Nation; and yet all of you speak for him as if he were the Son of some great king, or as if I should incense all the Kings upon earth by punishing him: But (said he unto them in a mighty fury) either speak no more in his behalf, or let me know your reasons why you should so eagerly interest yourselves: For let me tell you this, once for all, and it shall be my ultimate Resolution, that if within two day's space, Artamenes do not confess his faults, his life shall pay for it, and satisfy revenge; and afterwards at more leisure all his complices shall follow him. After Ciaxares had thus expressed himself, he went into his Closet, and left all the Kings and Princes extremely dejected. They all went then unto the house of Hidaspes, because he was most interressed in him, and because they were more free and at liberty there then any where else: When they were all there, the King of Phrygia having consulted with the King of Hyrcania, with Hidaspes, Aducius, Artabases, Thrasibulus, Madates, and Feraulas, they concluded, that since Ciaxares did object against Artamenes, the baseness of his Quality, and thought that his greatest crime, therefore it was requisite to tell him who he was, and try if that way would prevent him from his violent resolutions. They conceived, that since Astyages was dead, Ciaxares perhaps would not so much startle at the Stars, and predictions, of the Magis, as the King his father did: but that when he should know Artamenes was the son of a King, his Cousin, and had thirty thousand Persians in his Army, he would perhaps look better about him, before he destroyed him; and that if it should once come to open force, the Soldiers would fight with more fury for the son of a king, than they would have done for an unknown stranger. This resolution was not fixed upon without great Contests, but after the grounds of it were well examined, it was so determined, and they resolved, that after they had given all requisite Orders unto their Regiments, they will 〈…〉 ●act the next morning accordingly, and that in the mean time 〈…〉 as they could to 〈◊〉 about Ciaxares that morning, to 〈…〉 esse might 〈◊〉 spread, and be 〈…〉 conference 〈…〉 King o 〈…〉 were on 〈…〉 fore Ci 〈…〉 safety 〈…〉 and in 〈…〉 be said, 〈…〉 day. T 〈…〉 〈…〉 a, the King of H 〈…〉 L 〈…〉 nia, 〈◊〉 Prince of Paphlagonia, Gobria●, 〈…〉 Th 〈…〉 Philocles, Leontidas, Megabises▪ Ariobantes, Hidaspes, Adusius, Madates, Art 〈…〉 Aglatidas, and a hundred others were there. But their haste was notwithstanding so 〈…〉 full, for do what they could it was impossible for them to see the King t 〈…〉 morning 〈…〉 would by all means dine that day in private, because he would avoid the soncitations 〈…〉 many as were opposite unto his design. But at last, know that they were all of them extremely importunate to speak with him, and were come into his Chamber, he came out of his Closet in a high fury, absolutely resolved upon the death of Artamenes. Presently after according unto the last day's resolutions, Feraulas came also into the Chamber, and thrusting thorough the pr 〈…〉, to get near the King, he presented himself before him with as much boldness as reverence: Ciaxares being infinitely surprised to see him. What Feraulas (said he unto him) do you fear death so little, that you dare put yourself into the power of a Prince, who has caused you to be sought for as a Delinquent? It is not death Sir (answered he) that I stand in fear of; but my greatest fear is, lest your Majesty should precipitately act a piece of high injustice upon the person of my Master: Therefore I come to tell you that Artamenes is so far from being of any obscure extract, as he is the Son of a great and good King: of what unknown Country I pray you, is the Father of Artamenes King? (replied Ciaxares) Ah my friend, this excuse is too gross, and I cannot believe it, unless all these Princes confirm what you say; If that be Sir, replied Feraulas, you may very well believe, that Artamenes is the Son of a great King, since there are thirty thousand of his Father's Subjects in your Army; and all these Kings and Princes who hear me, are able to attest the truth of it: Truth is Sir, Artamenes is Cyrus, son to the King of Persia; and Hidaspes, Adusius, and so many famous Persians as you see about you, are all to be one day his Subjects Is Artamenes Cyrus (replied the King of Maids) away, away, it is impossible? Sir, (said Hidaspes) the thing is so true, that nothing upon earth can be more. Yes Sir (pursued Adusius) and we are able to make it most apparent unto you; the report of his shipwreck was most false: and Cyrus was never in any danger of death, but in your Majesty's service. You know (said the King of Phrygia) that this is not likely to be an invented business; for if it were not true, Hidaspes would not say it. I know (replied Ciaxares, infinitely unquiet, and troubled in his mind) that the thing which you discover unto me, is the way, to hast his ruin; for Artamenes, as he is only a rash, ingrateful, and a deluding man, and a particular enemy unto Ciaxares, who according to his Clemency, or Justice, may pardon or punish him: But if it be true, that he is Cyrus, than it is as true that he is the general enemy of all Asia, and aught to be destroyed: You are all of you as well as I, concerned in this public interest (said he unto all about him, except Persians) It is your Tyrant who is in prison: one, whom all the Magis say, will subvert all Asia, and become our Master: And if any thing can persuade me, that Artamenes is Cyrus, it is his most prodigious exploits. But Sir, said the king of Hyrcania, all his prodigious exploits conduce unto your Majesty's advantage: All his Combats, Victories, and Conquests, are yours; and he findeth no other share in them but his Fetters. No, (replied Ciaxares) because by the favour of the gods I have prevented him: But, (said he in looking upon Feraulas) does Mandana know he is Cyrus? Sir, replied he, I know nothing concerning the Princess, further than that I am certain, there is no criminous intelligence between her and my Master, and that his affection towards her, did never cause him to neglect his respects neither to her nor you. The affection which your Master has (replied Ciaxares very sharply) is only an unlimited Ambition, and a thought of horrible revenge; he intends to punish Ciaxares, for that which Astyages in the behalf of all Asia, did intend to do in his Cradle; but I shall without any scruple at all, do that which he attempted not without much fear; fo 〈…〉 have more convincing Arguments inducing me unto it; and also mor● convincing Rea 〈…〉 〈…〉 ied the king of Phryg●a) to avert you from it. Cyrus replied Ciaxa 〈…〉 but 〈…〉 le to hurt: But Cyr●● is 〈…〉 lpable for't 〈…〉 thing, and to execute what he 〈…〉 It 〈…〉 also a man who attempts 〈…〉 execute all 〈…〉 Cyrus' 〈…〉 very true 〈…〉 you ser 〈…〉 Ra 〈…〉 King in 〈…〉 He comes 〈…〉 Court, and 〈…〉 in a disguise, 〈…〉 was to ●educe the mind of my Daughter; Doubtless 〈…〉 discovered himself unto her; he has infused Ambition into her soul: She looks up 〈…〉 as the Conqueror of all Asia: And without considering, that he cannot make him 〈…〉 Master o 〈…〉 unless he throw her Father out of his Throne; she hearkens unto him, 〈…〉 uffers him, she loves him. But thanks be unto the Heavens, I am able to punish them 〈…〉 h at once, since if she love Artamenes, as I make no question but she does, than she 〈…〉 ill suffer a death in the person of this rash man, until I can get her unto such a place, as 〈…〉 shall make her suffer in her own. Oh Sir, (cried out all the men which were in the Chamber) we beseech you, either grant us the life of Cyrus, or else we beseech you give us our deaths. How (replied Ciaxares extremely astonished) my Subjects, my Vassals, and my Allies, all ask life for their Tyrant? or at least will be so one day? We beg the life (said they all with one voice) of a man, whom the gods did send to be the Legitimate Master of all men, and have adorned him with Virtues accordingly; and one who, although he was able to have got out of prison (added Hidaspes) yet would not attempt it. A man (pursued Gobrias) who would not live but to do you service. You may say (added Gadates) a man, who would never have vanquished but for your Glory: A Prince (pursued Thrasibulus) who has made all the Wise men of Greece adore him: And one (added the king of Hyrcania) who has converted all them whom he has vanquished, to be his friends. Say rather (pursued Feraulas) one who has made his most mortal enemies admire 〈…〉 Add unto these (said Aglatidas) that the destiny of Artamenes is so extraordinary and glorious, that his most mortal enemies do owe their lives unto him. You may further say (added Artibies) that those who hardly know him, are so much charmed by his Virtues, that they are ready to die for him. For my part added Thimocr●●es) I should think my life could never be better employed, then in saving such an Illustrious Prince as he: Indeed (replied Philocles) your lot would deserve envy if you could obtain that favour; for what applause did not that man deserve who should have the honour to reprieve so virtuous a Prince? A Prince, replied Megabises, who is valiant in the highest degree. Who is as liberal as valiant (pursued Artabases) who is as prudent as courageous (added the Prince of Licaonia). Who is as mild and sweet after a Victory, as he is furious in fight (replied Madates) Whose reputation is famed throughout the World (said Leontidas) Who is owner of all the Virtues (added the Prince of Paphlagonia) And to sum up all in few words (pursued Ariobantes) he is a man who never did any ill, but always good. 〈…〉 owe, (said Ciaxares in a great fury) did Cyrus never do any ill? has he not rendered himself so prevalent and powerful in the minds of my Friends, my Enemies, my Allies, my Neighbours, and my Subjects, that it seems as if I durst not punish him? Is not this crime great enough to ruin him: to the end that I may teach others to be more respective unto me? But as it possible (added he) that there should not be one amongst you all who loves his liberty, and is a hater of that man, whom so many Predictions might move you to look upon as a Traitor: In the mean while, since you neither respect my Interest, not your own, nor the Interest of all Asia, I will look only to myself, and will punish this pretended Cyrus, as a man who is come into my Court to betray me; as one that has conspired with my daughter against my life; as one that has voluntarily let the king of Assyria escape; as one that holds a criminous correspondency with him, and as a man who indeed would ruin me. Take heed Sir, (said Hidaspes) what you do; for after all this, Cyrus is not your Subject, and the King my Master knows well enough how to be revenged upon you for such a piece of high injustice. In the name of the gods Sir, (said the king of Phrygia) do not resolve upon any thing in the heat of your choler. In the name of the gods (replied Ciaxares) speak not a word more unto me either concerning Artamenes or Cyrus: But be ye all assured, that I take him for my secret Enemy, for a 〈…〉 uce 〈…〉 f my Daughter, and for the Tyrant of all Asia, and nothing shall save him: and therefore 〈…〉 since his destruction is inevitable; prepare yourselves to hear presently of 〈…〉 th': In saying so, he caused Feraulas to be guarded a 〈…〉 d left them. Immediately 〈…〉 r, the king of Phrygia was advertized, that Metroba 〈…〉 〈◊〉 given Orders, that the 〈…〉 s should suffer none to come into the Town from the Camp, none to go out of the 〈…〉 So that when he made it known unto the king of 〈◊〉; and all the 〈◊〉 〈…〉 s about him, they ●●d 〈…〉 oubt whether they sho 〈…〉 have liberty ●●go out 〈…〉 le, and whether Artamenes were not already dead: For Metrobates spoke unto 〈…〉 allow voice since he came into his Chamber, and told him that he had underst 〈…〉 Cyrus'.    
The End of the Second Part.   

THE CONTINUATION OF ARTAMENES OR The Grand CYRUS, THAT EXCELLENT NEW ROMANCE:  
Written by that Famous Wit of FRANCE, MONSIEUR de SCUDERY Governor of NOTRE DAME.  
And now ENGLISHED by●. ●. Esq  
LONDON, Printed for 〈…〉 at the Prince's Arms in S ● Paul's Churchyard; and 〈…〉 at the George in Fleetstreet, 〈…〉   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE AND MOST PERFECTLY NOBLE, THE LADY ANNE LUCAS.  
MADAM,  
THe Great CYRUS now makes his second Address to Your Honour: his Former so prospered under Your Ladyship's name, that He vows to think of no other Dedication. For at his first entrance into our Language, He resolved to cast himself at the feet of some Excellent Personage, whose Extraction should be Illustrious as your own name of NEVIL (which confessedly is as great as our Chronicles can boast of) and a Person accomplished with all the Titles of Honour, Knowledge, and Virtue, as well as those powerful Ornaments of Nature. And at all these Capacities He found himself bound to make choice of Your Ladyship: For He knew (if His Story met any Exception) You were best able to give him all the Protection your whole Sex could afford: And if there could be any possible Addition, He might safely expect it from your own Noble Lord, whose Learned Soul is so Heroically balanced, as at once might challenge both Aristotle and Hercules; and yet (which is stronger) conceals these Transcendencies from the Eye of the World, because He knows the World is now at worst, and incapable of Correption. Therefore (MADAM) I were strangely bold to present Your Ladyship with a common Romance: but all the judicious Wits I have met with, do assure me the GRAND CYRUS is a noble useful Work; the Plots are deeper, the Turns and Changes much more frequent, the Disputes and Arguments far stronger, than in other Compositions: For, the famous Author is not only a Scholar, a traveller, and a Soldier, but one of the most eminent Wits of France, and in every page hath left some marks and impressions of his Spirit. The former Volume left CYRUS at the Block; This shows what means were used to preserve him, a Felicity which all good Princes have not enjoyed. And amidst all, the Scenes of Honour and Love are so twisted, that every Noble Lover may here meet his own Flame, and learn both how to manage and advance it till he reach his desires. But I trespass too much on your Ladyship's precious minutes, which are still taken up by the noblest Considerations. My only hope is, that you that can so exactly judge, can also pardon  
Your Honour's most humble and most obedient Servant HUMPHREY MOSELEY   

THE STATIONER TO THE READER.  
I Have now published the Two first Volumes of the GRAND CYRUS; there are Three more to Print, which shall be dispatched with all possible Expedition, for I purpose to be ready with One every Term. When lately I began to publish the First in English, the Author had not finished his own Original French; but if He then had, I should scarce have given you the Whole at once, because I would follow my Author's Example; who dividing his Work (into Ten Parts, and Thirty Books) published them successively in equal Volumes, as I do in English; though I make but Five Volumes of his Ten; for in France they pay above Four times the value of what you have them here. I shall not commend it, for all that have read the former Volume will save me that labour. If you wave this Opportunity of buying the Books as now they are wrought off (in hopes at last to have them all together) you will be deceived; for I am perfectly resolved (and do now give it under my Hand) that I will not Re-print it; though I have good cause to wish I had Printed a greater Number. The Printer again hath mistaken a few Figures on the head of some Pages: as, page 25, for 27. and page 104, for 110. And after page 290. the Figures are repeated from 282. And page 241, 243, 245. 'tis BOOK I. for BOOK II. I could have concealed this, but I chose to deal openly, especially in a Work that deserves so well as this of the GRAND CYRUS.  
H. M.   

ARTAMENES, OR CYRUS the GREAT. The Third Part.  

BOOK. I.  
Extreme Fears turning the Souls of all the Kings, Princes, and Heroic Persons into Fury, they once determined to cast off all the respects which they owed unto Ciaxares. But afterwards, considering, that the Guards of the Castle did depend absolutely upon Metrobates, they altered their determinations, and took a more rational course. They went with all haste unto the House of Hidaspes, there to advise upon the best remedy against a disaster of so great importance: great indeed, since it so nearly concerned the Life of the most Illustrious Prince upon Earth. Their fears of not getting out of the Castle proved groundless: for Metrobates contented himself with the execution of the King's Orders unto the Gates of the Town, which was, That none should be permitted to go out of Sinope to the Camp, nor none from the Camp to enter the Town: These Heroes were no sooner with Hidaspes, but he, that famous Persian, spoke hastily thus unto them: Sirs, Whether you look upon Cyrus as Artamenes, or upon Artamenes as Cyrus, you are all of you obliged to save him, if it be possible; There is not one amongst you all, whom he hath not obliged, and by consequence not one amongst you, who owes not your best assistance unto him. As for us Persians (said he, speaking to Adusius, Artabases, Madates, and concerning himself) we were the basest Varlets upon earth, if we would not die to save his life, or revenge his death. And you Sirs, (if it be permitted me to say so in the heat of my zeal) would be very unjust, if not ungrateful, in not doing the same with us. As for you (said he unto Ariobantes, Megabises, and Aglatidas,) who are natural Subjects unto Ciaxares, although the Interest of Cyrus does not concern you, yet the Honour of the King, your Master, aught to move you, and make you to undertake any expedients which may prevent the spilling of that blood, which as pure as it is, will slain his life with an infamous brand, never to be washed out: whether therefore ye be Phrygians, Hyrcanians, Grecians, Assyrians, Medes, Cadusians, Paphlagonians, or Persians. Let us all speedily resolve upon some expedient; or to express myself better, Let us speedily put it into act, and lose not a minute of time, lest Metrobates prevent us.  
No sooner had Hidaspes ended his Speech, but all the Kings, Princes, and Heroes, testified their resolutions to employ the most desperate remedies, against so desperate a disease; and to hazard their lives a thousand times to preserve the life of Cyrus. They contrived all imaginable ways to effect their Design, and the heat of their zeal did so transport them, that they propounded an hundred different Propositions; and some of them such, as the execution of them was impossible: for the accident did so disturb their Reason, and animate their Courage, that all of them did strive how to signal themselves, by the dangers they would undertake in the enterprise. Some would have them go by open force unto the Castle, and demand Artamenes; others advised to join the subtlety of the Fox to the fury of the Lion: and others would have them go kill Metrobates immediately: Some advised to go and raise the people; some others would have them cause the Army to advance; and all of them concluded to transact, and bestir themselves, to save the life of Cyrus. Since they looked upon Ciaxares, as a prejudicated Prince, yet since they were all of them really generous, they had not one thought of attempting any thing upon his Person; but only so far as might get that Hero out of his hands, unto whom he owed the Glory of his Reign, and the Conquest of many Kingdoms.  
In conclusion, it was resolved upon, to let some one down the walls of the Town by cords, that he might go unto the Camp, and make it known unto the Persians, that the only Son of their Sovereign was in danger of death, if they did not speedily relieve him; hoping that afterwards, all the whole Army would come unto the Gates of Sinope, and move Ciaxares not to execute his Design with so much precipitation: In the mean time it was resolved that Ariobantes, and Megabises, should return into the Castle, and advertise them concerning all passages, and also to try if they could any ways qualify the King: For their parts, they assembled all their friends which they had within the Town, to wait until the Army came up, and to be in readiness for any attempt, if there were a necessity of it, and to stir up the people, if there were no other remedy; but there was no need of taking any thought for that, because they perceived the people to come out of the Castle in tumults, and as they walked the streets, nothing could he heard but the name of Artamenes, pronouncing it with troubled spirits: Immediately after, the people of Sinope seeing all their hopes turned into fears, and their joys into sorrows, grew into so great a commotion, that there was not any who followed his accustomed course; shops were shut, the women spoke loud in the streets, Merchants consulted together upon what was best to be done, the Gentry flocked about the King and Princes, to hear what was done in the Castle; and the confusion was so tumultuously apparent, that it was easy to perceive, they wanted but little of a declared Revolt. That which did most of all augment the Tumult, was the Orders which Metrobates had given to suffer none to enter, or go out of the Town: for they who were come dut of the Camp into the Town, being desirous to return thither again; and they who were gone out of the Town into the Camp, being also desirous to come back, and both restrained; The one endeavouring to come in, the other to go out, made such an hideous Garboil at the Gates, that the noise of them sounded throughout all the Town, and one benefit accrued by it; for since all the Soldiers which Metrobates had brought from Pteria, were all busied either at the Gates of the Town, or at the Castle; it was less difficult for Madates during the obscurity of the night to get over the wall and ditch. He went then in all haste unto the Camp, and acquainted all the Persians that Artamenes was Cyrus, and that their Prince would presently be put to death, if they did not interpose their lives to save his; when he came there he found the Camp already in disorder, by the return of several Captains, and Soldiers, who were denied entrance into the Town, who reported that certainly they would put Artamenes to death, and perhaps all their Commanders, and Princes also. Madates then found the Army in a fit posture for his design; if he met any Captains, It must be you (would he say unto them) which must save the invincible Artamenes, you who have been sharers with him in the honour, and you who he has so favourably looked upon: If he spoke unto the Common soldiers, It must be you (would he say to them) who must preserve your valiant General, who would ever be in the deepest dangers, but would never have any share in the Magnificent Plunder wherewith you are enriched. If he saw any Phrygians, he told them that it was their King's Command to come unto Sinope, and demand Artamenes: If he saw any Hyrcanians, he would tell them the same from their King, and so the like unto all the several Nations which were in the Army: so that the Discourse of Madates, meeting with that violent passion which had taken root in the hearts of all the Captains and Soldiers towards Cyrus, (for we will not hereafter call him Artamenes,) it is not at all strange if Madates did so suddenly kindle so great a fire, out of matter which was so combustible. The Name of Cyrus was quickly divulged throughout all the Army: for the thirty thousand Persians, who had it from their Commander in chief, unto whom Madates had imparted it, did presently disperse it abroad. And as this great Body was moved by one Soul, every one ranged himself under his Colours, and desired to be conducted unto Sinope.  
The Name of Artamenes, and of Cyrus, echoed from Company to Company, from Regiment to Regiment, and above an hundred thousand men did in an instant talk, and bestir themselves, to relieve him whom they regarded as a God, both in times of Peace, and War. Mean while, the King of Phrygia, and the King of Hircanias' Troops, grew great in the Town, composed of all the Men of Quality in Sinope, and of those who were not permitted to return unto the Camp. The people also, who at the first did only grumble, do now take Arms, and randezvouz into Companies in divers Quarters of the Town. Ariobantes, and Megabises, were within the Castle, where the disorder was greater than either in the Camp, or Town. Metrobates moved Ciaxares with all his Arguments to pronounce the last Sentence of death against Cyrus: and Ciaxares himself was at the ultimate resolution; both of them did foresee the dangerous consequences of so dismal a design; but choler did so prepossess the Spirit of Ciaxares, that he disguised his thoughts: And the wicked Metrobates, that he might expel out of the Soul of Ciaxares all just fears of an universal subversion of his Empire by the death of Cyrus, did blow the coals of his fury, and quenched all such apprehensions in him. Sir, (said he unto him) the reason why all these Kings, and Princes, are so hot and zealous in the behalf of Cyrus, is only, because they hope that if they can get him out of prison, they shall receive a recompense for it: but if he were once in his Grave, you should see them in another mind: The fidelity of Courtiers never follows Favourites further than their Funerals; If therefore you would allay the tumult of the people, dissipate the factions of Grandees, and hush the force of the Army, you must speedily put both Cyrus and Artamenes to death; and cause that neither of those Names be any longer pronounced: It is but a requisite Victim to appease that storm which he hath raised; since certainly Cyrus shall no sooner be in a condition, to move no further hopes nor fears, but the disorder will cease, and you shall be King again of many Kingdoms, and enjoy your Crowns in quietness. This so violent and unjust discourse wanted not a favourable ear from Ciaxares; not but that whether he would or no, he did remember all those great Services which Cyrus had done him under the Name of Artamenes, and that tender affection which once he bore that Prince; but he was opposite unto all that either Justice or Piety could inspire into him, and harkened not unto any thing but fury and revenge. All the rest of the prisoners which were in several places of the Castle were astonished, when they saw their Guards changed, and themselves treated worse than ordinary: They also heard a very great noise, which begot both fears and hopes in them: Martesia never heard the door of her Chamber open, but she had thoughts both of death and liberty. Chrisantes whose soul stood immovable, looked upon every thing with an indifferent eye. Fearaules never thought upon any thing but his dear Master: Andramias being accustomed to command others, did impatiently endure to be commanded: Araspes took his fetters patiently: Artucas without ever repenting of the Services he had done unto Cyrus, endured his prison without murmur: Ortalgues that most faithful servant, found this consolation in his misery, that it was for his Illustrious Master which he suffered: Mean while Cyrus seeing all his hopes of liberty like to be seconded by a violent death, bestowed all his thoughts upon his Princess: and without accusing Ciaxares, or murmuring at his injustice, his only wish was, That Mandana might be happy when he was dead: This wish was no sooner made, but he did almost recall it; for said he in himself, those Services which I have done her, and all the Princes which I have taken, and my most respected passion towards her, does merit some light remembrance, and some sighs from my Princess for me: Yes, Divine Mandana, I may without offence pretend unto so much honour as to be lamented by you, since hereto o'er your goodness afforded me some tears at the news of my death: But I should be infinitely unjust, if I should desire that my ruin should disturb the tranquillity of your life; Live then, Divine Princess, though I die; but do not quite blot out the memory of too happy Artamenes, and most unhappy Cyrus; live in all abundant happiness, and let no sadness sit upon your Soul.  
This passionate apprehension dwelled not long in his heart, without the interruption of another: sometimes the Image of Mandana all in tears, did present itself unto his fancy, and made him find a sad consolation, and some sweetness in the horrors of his Tomb: Whilst this Illustrious Prisoner bestowed all his thought upon Mandanae, all things were in a fearful confusion: Metrobates received news after news all the night long, That all the Town was up in Arms; that the Army was upon its march towards Sinope; that the Kings of Phrigia and Hyrcania had mustered a considerable body of Men together; and that there was small Likelihood the King should find any obedience, either from People, or Soldiers, or Officers. In this desperate extremity he made his Last endeavour to move Ciaxares, to put Cyrus to death; and indeed, the King did fully intend it. Metrobates had sent orders unto Artaxes to send him two Thousand men more, the next night following, and to come a back way by the Sea side, where the Troops of the Army could not stop them; and this was the Reason, why the matter was not more hastily executed: Notwithstanding, when he heard the great hurly burly more and more increase, and receiving continual intelligence, of fresh disorders; and seeing at the break of day the state of things, he wrought so upon Ciaxares, that he was upon the Point to bid them put Cyrius to death, when the Grave Thiamis, one of the sacrificers belonging to the Temple of Mars, who was accidentally shut up in the Town, came with all the Magis of Sinope, and desired to speak with Ciaxares. Metrobates would needs avert the King from hearing him: but a secret apprehension moved Ciaxares not to follow the counsel of this wicked Man, but would needs hearken unto Thiamis. Permission then being given for him to enter, this Venerable old man, followed by abundance of the Magis, all dressed in such mourning vestments as they were wont to wear at Public Mournings, appeared before the King both with much reverence and boldness, and looking upon him with eyes full of melancholy, but yet full of such severe Majesty as begot both fear and Reverence, he spoke thus unto him.  

The Discourse of THIAMIS unto CIAXARES.  
SIR, as it is our duties to be most faithful Subjects unto Kings as our Masters, so it is our duty also, to be bold in declaring those important truths unto them, which concerns the good of their state and Persons, when occasions present themselves. Therefore being inspired by the Gods, and without any fears of displea●ng you, I come to beseech your Majesty to hear me, but to hear me without prejudication: It concerns, Sir, not only your own glory, but the glory of your Empire, the safety of many Kingdoms, and indeed of all Asia, and particularly your own self; therefore I conjure you, once more to hear me favourably without interruption. I know Sir, by the public voice, that Artamenes is Cyrus; that he is the same Prince who was ushered into the world by so many Prodigies; for whom both Heaven and Earth have interrupted the order of all the universe: The strongest and most stately Temples have tottered: The lights of many Candles did of themselves extinguish, and miraculously encorporate themselves into one flame: The Sun itself was ecliosed, and its splendour and heat was afterwards redcubled. All the Victims have pronounced his Grandeur, and all the Stars have written it in Characters of Gold: Indeed Sir, we have observed so much of him, that w● are most certain, the person of Cyrus is extraordinary; and one whose Life is not to be under the Jurisdiction of any Kings upon Earth: I know very well, you will think it strange that those men, who according to your orders have offered sacrifices of thanks unto the Gods for his death, should now intercede for his life. But Sir give me leave to tell you, that all humane Prudence is erroneous, and oftentimes in lieu of directing do delude us: nor ought man to be so Presumptuous as to penetrate the secrets of Heaven: It is true Sir, that the Magis of Ecbatan, perceiving that the Gods intended a great alteration in all Asia, did think that some great evil was menaced; so that when intelligence was brought of the supposed death of him, who should be the cause of it, they rendered thanks unto the Gods, for the death of that Prince, who they thought would make use of unjust courses, to subvert the Throne, and would become the grand Tyrant of the world. But now at this day, since we know that Artamenes is Cyrus, we do clearly perceive that we have been deceived; and that all the signs and Prodigies, did rather speak infinite good, then menace any bad misfortunes. Give me leave to ask you Sir, what has the most Illustrious Artamenes done, ever since the first day of his arrival at Sinope, when I had the happiness to see him in our Temple? For my part, I am certain, that this valour has brought us more causes of sacrifices of thanks unto the Gods for the Victories which he hath brought you, than any four ages ever produced either in Cappadocia, Galatia, or Medea. The Gods, Sir, did not permit him to perserve your Life, that should become Master of his; nor is he born your subject, but you ought to treat him as your equal. If the famous Artamenes were not the Son of a King, but born in your own Dominions, than might you absolutely dispose of his Life and fortune, without rendering an account unto any but the Gods for it: But he is born a Subject unto another Prince, unto whom he is Son, as well as Subject, and you ought not to usurp that Authority which does not belong unto you. Moreover sir, those such eminent Persons, as he, whom the Gods have sent to advance your glory, aught to be sacred in your esteem. When we rejoiced at the false news of the death of Cyrus, we did then suppose he would prove a wicked man, and imagined that he suffered shipwreck by the permission of the Gods: But now, since we do know him to be the most virtuous of men, and the greatest Prince upon earth, we ought rather to worship him then put him to death. Indeed Sir, when I consider what he has done for you; how he hath preserved all Cappadocia by preserving your Life; how many Battles he hath won for you; how many Kings he hath subjected; what Towns he hath taken; and that the proud City of Babylon which aspired unto universal Monarchy, hath been subdued by his valour; I do confess, I cannot understand by what Principles you transact; You, I say Sir, whose Prudence and goodness we have all admired. Why was the Sun Eclipsed, and afterwards appeared in far greater Splendour than before, but only to manifest, that when he should have extinguished all other powers, his own should be infinitely more great, then ever the others were? Do not tell me, that all these signs did mark him out for a terrible Prince, whose death was to be desired: No Sir, deceive not yourself: The Gods do use to give us hopes as well as fears, and Promises as well as menaces: And if it be their intentions that Cyrus should reign, they intent that it shall be by just ways. They have foretold him to be one of the greatest Conquerors in the world, whose victorious hand has planted Laurels upon all the Rivers of Asia: A Prince he is, who is the love of all Nations, who surmounts all, either by force or favour; yet in the midst of all his victories and Conquests he is absolute Master of his Ambition, and prostrates all his Triumphs, and all his Glory at your feet: So that Sir, to accomplish the will of the Gods, Cyrus must Reign by your means: Nor know I any other interpretations of all those prodigies, but this, That you yourself cause Cyrus to Reign hereafter by giving unto him the Princess Mandana, who is your sole Heir. I do see that this my discourse does incense you, in lieu of appeassing you; yet for all that, I am obliged to tell you from those Gods whom I serve, and with whom I have consulted by extraordinary Sacrifices, since the imprisonment of this Prince, That if you put him to death you will destroy your Empire; you will make all your Subjects, slaves unto your enemies, and perhaps also—   
As Thiamis was going on with his discourse, and as Ciaxares was incensed with the boldness of his language, they heard a great noise from the Court before the Castle. Ariobantes, and Megabises, were in a Balcone over against it, and saw, that it was a great multitude of people, and Soldiers together; who without any Discipline or Commanders, did demand Artamenes. This bold attempt did move Thiamis to proceed in his discourse to the King, but he in his great choler rejected him, and seemed to be more incensed. Ariobantes sent Megabises to advertise the King of Phrigia that nothing could mollify Ciaxares. Though Thiamis had been denied, yet would he not go out of the Castle, but stayed in another chamber, hoping to meet with some more favourable opportunity to be better hearkened unto: during this while Metrobates was advertised that the whole Army was at the gates of the Town, and would have entrance: fain would he conceal this bad news from the King; but yet it must be known, and therefore he told him; who was troubled at it beyond all imagination. He was in a Castle with a very few people with him; and in a revolted Town, whose gates, although they were guarded by men which were for him, yet the Town was assaulted by an Army of a hundred Thousand men without, and by a great part of the Inhabitants within: All this while he accused Cyrus, as the cause of all these disasters, not considering that he was only the innocent cause. But never was the like seen, both without, and within the Town: The Army made the Air Echo, with the glorious name of Artamenes, and Cyrus: the Soldiers of Metrobates had work enough: A hundred ladders in a place might be seen reared against the walls, and Soldiers covered with their Bucklers running up them: others using that warlike Engine which the Ancients called Battering Rams, all striving to mount the top of the wall; some fell down; others more strong and happy got up and beat off their enemies, maintaining fight upon the walls whilst the rest of their Companions entered the Town in that place: As the valour of them who scaled the walls was great, so the valour of them who ordered the Battering Rams was no less; These huge Engines which were moved by Arms that were infinitely zealous for the safety of Cyrus, did thump such great blows against the gates and walls, that they made them stagger: The sound of these Rams, whose heads were of fine Copper, which is called the Gold of Corinth, was so terrible that, Thunder was never louder.  
There were an hundred other Engines, which by antiquity were termed Balistae, and Catapultae, and Onegri, which shot whole clouds of arrows and stones against the walls, and into the Town: They were no calmer within the Town, then without; for all the people were so animated, that nothing could be more terrible. The Kings of Phrygia, and Hircan●a, did wish that things would have looked with another face; and they were extremely vexed to be constrained to make use of such a dangerous remedy, since there is nothing in the world more to be avoided, than the Rebellion of the people: But that which cannot be helped must be endured; and they endeavoured to qualify this Popularity as much as they could; thinking that this striking some apprehensions of fear into Ciaxares, would be enough to save Cyrus: Mean while the Gates of the Town were broken open, and those who defended the walls forsook them, who not knowing whether to retreat were all killed, both by them without, and within the Town. This great Army being entered in several places of the Town, did not stay to plunder, but presently environed the Castle. Metrobates would fain have fled if he knew how; but Guards were set on all sides both by Sea and Land; That Ciaxares himself had no other thoughts but to die in defending himself, after he had first put Cyrus to death; whatsoever Thiamis and Ariobantes could say was vain, for the King was all fury and despair: Mean while, Metrobates the vilest wretch upon earth, not knowing what to do, went to the Chamber of Cyrus; and counterfeiting both pity and generosity, told him, that if he would promise him two things, he would set him at liberty; this Prince having no mind to promise him any thing, he was forced to express himself, that if he would bestow the Government of Pteria upon him for his security, he would then kill Ciaxares, and showed him ways how he could bring it to pass. For Sir, (said this villainous man) this is the only way to prevent your death, and to make you Lord of all Asia. This vicious Proposition was so horrid in the apprehension of Cyrus, that he thrust Metrobates out of his Chamber, and as good luck was, a Soldier which guarded this gallant Prisoner, heard all their discourse. This Traitor then, seeing no way but ruin, thought how to make all in the Castle perish with him; yet since he imagined that some accident might fall out, wherein the Person of Cyrus might stand him in some stead, therefore he was not so hasty to kill him: Mean while, the noise and tumult increased; and all that the Kings and Princes could do, to restrain the Soldiers was in vain: for since the greatest part of them were not Subjects unto Ciaxares, they were extremely animated by the thirty thousand Persians, who would deliver their Prince: They cast off that Reverend respect unto Kings, which ought to be imprinted in the souls of Subjects, insomuch as they were ready to act any violence. They had already brought the Ladders unto the Castle; and I am verily persuaded, they would have set it on fire, if they had not feared the burning of Cyrus among the rest. The Battering Rams were brought unto the Gates, and two thousand men ready to make an Assault when the breach was made; and also an hundred thousand men more to second them, when presently a great noise upon the left hand was heard, which ought to be understood, notwithstanding the tumultuous confusion of voices, to be a noise of joy. Presently after, the Kings of Phrygia, and Hyrcania, accompanied with Persodes, Artibies, Adusias, Artabases, the Prince of Pophlagonia, Thimocrates, Philocles, and many others, did so see Hidaspes, Thrasibulas, Aglatidas, and the faithful Orsanes, conducting Cyrus, whom they had happily delivered out of a window, by breaking the bars, as soon as ever Metrobates had left him: This sight did produce a prodigious effect: and every one that had a tongue, pronounced the Name of Cyrus, or Artamenes, for as yet they gave him both names indifferently. In the mean while this generous Prince, as soon as he perceived the Ladders, and Rams, and all ready to assault the Castle, speaking not a word of his intentions unto his illustrious friends, did upon a sudden with his sword in his hand (for he had one given as soon as he was delivered) separate himself from them who were about him, and went strait unto the Gate of the Castle: so that Ciaxares who was then in a Balcone to see what the Cry of Joy should be, did see Cyrus separated from his deliverers, and at the Gate of the Castle in a posture to defend it against them who for his liberty did assault it: This Act being seen unto an hundred thousand several persons, did cause as many admirations in their souls: and moved them to suspend their Action. Ciaxares, who a minute before thought Cyrus to be a prisoner, did not well know, whether what he saw, was true: In the mean while this generous Prince, being before the Gate, holding his sword in one hand, and making signs unto the people with the other, that he desired to speak, he did in an instant cause as hushed a silence, as before there was tumultuous noise.  
Do not think, my Deliverers, (said he unto Thrasibulus, Hidaspes, Aglatidas, and Orsanes,) that I will accept of any liberty which shall be employed against the King; No, no, I do not value Glory at so poor a rate, as to prefer my life before it: If I did come out of prison, it was only mycompanions (said he, looking upon the Soldiers) to come and teach you that reverend respect which you owe unto your Master: Force me not to turn this sword against you which heretofore has rendered you victorious: Obey, obey the King's Commands, without the least contradiction: and if he demand my head of you, you ought to give it him without resistance: Did I ever teach you (said he, and doubled the fervency of his speech) to rebel against your King? Did you ever perceive by any of my actions, that I would allow of what you have done? No, no, deceive not yourselves, I can never be won unto an act so criminal, which makes me culpable as well as you. For after all this which you have done, I am not a whit more innocent than I was before, but I rather find, that the King without any injustice, and may ●hop off that man's head, who hath raised all his Subjects against him: Lay down your Arms then; and if you desire to serve me, cause all the soldiers to return unto the Camp, and all the inhabitants to their houses, whilst I, after I have begged your pardon from the King, will return unto my fetters. Cyrus' having ended his speech, a great humming noise was heard all over; those who understood not what he said, asked of others; and those who did understand him, did with admiration, Cry out, and every one did absolutely say, that they would die a thousand deaths rather than he should perish: When he perceived that they would not obey him, he then turned towards the Castle, looking up to the Balcone, where Ciaxares stood, and speaking as loud as ever he could: Command Sir, (said he unto him) that they suffer me to come unto you, to the end I may die in defending you against your rebellious Subjects. Thrasibulus, Hidaspes, and Aglatidas, who indeed feared that they would not let him enter, did range themselves on his side; but he looking upon them with great turbulence of spirit, said unto them; No, my too generous friends, come no nearer, unless, since I cannot turn the point of my sword against you, you will provoke me to turn it against myself.  
Whilst these passages happened in that place, the King was in extreme agitation of soul; for at the same instant in which he saw Cyrus in that generous posture, a Soldier presenting himself at his feet; Sir, (said he unto the King) that Illustrious Prisoner, whom my companions, and myself did guard, is escaped; But if it be permitted me to say it, your Majesty need not to be troubled at it: for he is too generous to do any harm, but it is the wicked Metrobates who you had more need to be troubled at: The King was somuch surprised and troubled both at what he saw, and what he heard, that his spirits were not at so much liberty as to inform himself further, by what the Soldier desired to speak; if Thiamis, and Ariobantes, had not moved him unto a further curiosity: But at last the Soldier being commanded to speak on, he told the King in few words, how he overheard the Proposition which Metrobates had made unto Cyrus, how he offered to kill Ciaxares upon condition Cyrus would give him the Government of Pteria: Thiamis, and Ariobantes, took hold upon this favourable opportunity, and aggravate the heinousness of this wicked act: The King did yet make some doubt of the truth, but the Soldier continuing his tale; Sir, (said he) to justify the truth of what I tell you, give me leave to acquaint you further, that Metrobates no sooner knew of the escape of Cyrus, but in lieu of advertising you, he provided for his own safety, and as the Ladders by which Cyrus was delivered, did remain still at the window, he made use of them, that way to go out of the Castle, having carried along with him a party of my fellow-soldiers; for my part, I should have come to advertise you of this horrid motion, as soon as I heard it, if I had then the power to have done it; But being engaged upon my duty, in the outer Chamber of Cyrus, when Metrobates came thither, I could not get out, until after his escape. The King was extremely troubled at this relation, yet not altogether believing it, he sent into all places of the Castle to seek for Metrobates, and to see whether they who delivered Cyrus had not killed him: But he knew that Cyrus had been delivered without any resistance; he knew also that Metrobates went the second time to the Chamber of Cyrus, and perhaps with an intention to kill him, though he had no orders for it, and when he found him escaped, it seems he escaped himself, in the same way as the soldier related. Now Sir, (replied Thiamis) I hope you will no longer resist both Heaven and Earth: Do you not now sufficiently see the innocency of Cyrus, through the crime of Metrobates? I know very well (answered Ciaxares) that Cyrus is generous, but I cannot yet so clearly discover his innocency: As soon as he had said so, Martesia, Chrisantes, Feralus, Araspes, Artucas, and Ortalgues, did all of them enter: for such a fear had seized upon the soldiers, since Metrobates who placed them there was escaped, that they looked after their prisoners no longer. Ciaxares being much surprised at the sight, and not knowing whether his Person was safe amongst so many people whom he had hardly used, did yet manifest his confidence, and asked all about him very angrily, Whether or no he was King, since they were so bold as to fail in their due respects unto him? Sir, (replied Chrisantes) when we saw that our Guards did leave us, we supposed your Majesty had no further use of us: and I thought (added Martesia) that it would conduce much unto your glory, and preservation, to tell you once again Sir, that Cyrus is innocent. See Sir, (said Thiamis, forcing him to take notice of this last Act of Cyrus, in hindering his friends from coming nearer him) whether you have any reason to reprehend the Servants of such a Master, whose generous Soul does oppose against his own deliverance, and becomes an enemy unto his Rescuers: Oh Heavens, Cried out Ciaxares, what shall I do? what can I, or what ought I to do? Command me (answered Thiamis) to go and fetch Cyrus unto you, and treat him kindly, as he deserves. But he holds intelligence with my Enemy, (replied the King.) You may see, Sir, (replied Ariobantes) by the manner of his acting, that he holds no culpable correspondence with him: but he is culpable at the least in relation to my Daughter, and therefore cannot be innocent. You may see that Sir, (replied Martesia) by a Letter which I will present unto you, and which by good fortune I found in that Chamber where I was prisoner, which formerly was mine: This Letter was never seen by any but Cyrus, nor did he ever impart the Contents of it unto Chrisantes, or Feraulas; and the Princess although she was most innocent, yet would she not suffer it to remain in his hands, and therefore it remained in mine: I did think, I had lost it, but by good fortune I found it in a little Trunk which was sent from Themissira unto Sinope, and I have brought it unto your Majesty, to let you see how criminal Mandana is. Ciaxares then taking the Letter, which he knew perfectly to be his Daughter's hand, he read it with much circumspection, and trouble.  
The Princess MANDANA, unto CYRUS.  
SInce it is your desire I should write my ultimate resolution unto you: I shall repeat that which I have already spoken unto you; which in Sum is this, That all the obligations whereby I am bound unto you, and all the Services which you have rendered unto the King my Father, shall never move me to recede from the exact and rigorous rules of virtue: I do know very well, that you did never desire any thing from me to the contrary: Therefore you ought not to be surprised, if I again tell you, That if you do not find out some expedients, and ways to make the King my Father acquainted, who you are, and procure his consent within the time prefixed: you must return into Persia, and never see me more: This is the total Sum of all I can, or aught to do.  
MANDANA.  
The King having read the Letter, and seeing Cyrus oppose his own friends, and command the Soldiers to lay down their Arms: Let him live (said he) let the happy Cyrus live, whose own virtues has more induced my Soul to save him, than an hundred thousand men could do. It is your Office, Grave Thiamis, (said he) to pronounce the same unto the Soldiers: and it is yours Ariobantes, to give out all necessary orders for the safety of the Castle. Oh Sir (cried out Chrisantes, Feraulas, and all the rest who were in the Chamber,) as long as Cyrus' lives, your Majesty need not to fear any thing: Mean while, Thiamis desiring to execute the King's Order with all speed, and not to give him any time to repent of so gracious a Sentence, went down unto the Gate of the Castle, followed by all the Magis which waited upon him. As soon as the Gates were opened, Cyrus came up, and endeavoured to enter, and forbid entrance unto any else; All his Deliverers and Partakers did advance, all the Captains and Soldiers cried out, that he should not enter, and made a terrible noise: But when the Gates of the Castle were wide open, and none but the Magis and Sacrificers appeared, the tumult ceased; every one kept his station, and silence to hear what Thiamis would say unto them: Cyrus then saluted the Magis with much reverence, holding down his sword, and looking upon him with as little dismayedness as if his life were not at all in danger; Is it from you, Grave Thiamis, (said he unto him) that I ought to reassume my fetters? No Sir (answered he) the Ministers of the Gods do not use to abase themselves so low, as to execute the injustice of men. But generous Prince, I come to proclaim that liberty which the King hath granted unto you: The flight of Metrobates hath cleared his soul from all doubts, and the Gods, unto whom you are most precious, have by your own victories freed you from that danger which seemed to be inevitable. Come then, Sir, and triumph, come and receive that tenderness of foul which the King keeps for you: Cyrus then making most low reverence unto Thiamis, Doubtless it is your pious prayers (said he unto him) rather than any virtue in me, which hath wrought this happy change in the King. But grave Thiamis, Does the King esteem me as a justified man, or as a criminal, whom he pardons? you shall know that from his own mouth, replied Thiamis. This grave Magis, had no sooner said so, but Cyrus turning himself towards his illustrious friends, did entreat them to let him enter alone; but he could not hear their Answer; for this good news having in a moment passed from mouth to mouth, nothing could be heard but thoughts of joy; yet certain mistrusts did remain in many minds, and they could not be satisfied with any thing: Some would have Hostages before he entered, others asked whether Thiamis, whose wisdom and integrity was known unto all the world, would answer for him: Insomuch, as hearing himself named by so many voices, and different men; No, no, (said this sage Sacraficer unto them, as loud as he could speak) fear nothing, but trust me with the Person of Cyrus: It is my office to conduct Victims unto the feet of Altars, not into the hands of Executioners. I use to appease the Gods by sacrifices, not but I do not use to execute vengeance upon men: Let your obedience (said he unto them) testify that your zeal is grounded upon good principles; and in lieu of serving, do not prejudice your most Illustrious General. Mean while, the King of Phrygia, the King of Hyrcania, Persodes, Thrasibulus, Artibies, the Prince of Paphlagonia, Hidaspes, Artabases, Thimocrates, Philocles, Leontidas, Megabises, Aglatidas, Orsanes, and many others came near, and desired that they might follow Cyrus into the Castle; but Thiamis told them, it would better accommodate the business, if some part of them only, did enter in with him, and the other part remain without, to keep the soldiers and people within the limits of their duties: lest some Banique fears, should freshly incense them, and lest they should imagine Cyrus is ill used, and moreover it would be much more requisite they should endeavour to take Metrobates, who was yet out of the Castle. After this contest, Cyrus entered; the King of Phrygia, Hidaspes, Artabases, Adusius, Thrasibulus, and Aglatidas, only following him, the King of Hyrcania, and all the rest remain without, to take all requisite courses to prevent any new commotion. In the mean while, Thiamis was no sooner gone towards the King, but this Prince was entered into his Closet, whither he sent for Chrisantes, and Martesia only.  
These two Persons had both of them so much spirit and discretion, and had told Ciaxares so much, that they made his soul desirous to hear the justification of Cyrus with delght: for since neither his truth nor his passion was not any longer to be concealed as a secret, it was much more easy for them then before, to make his innocence appear: Chrisantes did then with all ingenuity confess, of what nature that intelligence was which Cyrus held with the King of Assyria: and caused him so well to understand, that it was no criminous correspondence, as that the King would sigh for sorrow, considering into what a bad condition this supposed crime had brought him: Martesia, for her part, did justify his Mistress so handsomely, and did so sincerely and briefly relate all the passages, that he himself found no cause of complaint: There was nothing but that Picture which was found in the Cabinet of Cyrus, which moved him to conceive it to be too much for a Princess of so great a virtue, as Mandana professed: for although Martesia had told him it was made for the Princess of Pteria, yet there was no proof of it; but as good fortune was, Martesia did bethink herself of a passage which would clear the business. Sir, (said she unto him) Ariobantes, who as you know was Brother unto the Princess of Pteria, for whom that Picture was made, is able to witness that I tell you no lie; he may perhaps know it, if your Majesty show it unto him; for I do remember he was with the Princess the same day it was finished, and that the Princess his Sister falling sick the next day after, sent Ariobantes unto the Princess for it: But the Picture-drawer being desirous to take it with him, that he might do something unto the Dress, she could not receive that satisfaction she desired: So that the same Princess died, and as I told your Majesty, never received it: As soon as Martesia had told this, Ariobantes entered, who gave the King an account of those Orders he had given for the Guard of the Castle. Ciaxares then fetching out the Cabinet of Cyrus, which he always kept in his Closet, ever since the wicked Metrobantes brought it unto him, he took out the Picture of Mandana, and showing it unto Ariobantes, asked him, whether ever he had seen it before? Yes, Sir, (answered he, after he had a while looked upon it) doubtless I have seen it, and that more than once, for I saw it when the Princess out of her goodness was pleased to let it be taken for my Sister, and I saw it afterwards, when it was carried unto Martesia, a few days before the Princess was carried away by the King of Assyria: I remember also, how I persuaded her to keep that which was intended for my Sister: O Sir, (cried out Martesia) this is sufficient to justify the Princess, since your Majesty knows she never saw Cyrus since that time; and therefore could not give him this Picture. Thus was the state of things when Thiamis came and told the King, he had brought Cyrus unto him; who to appear with more submission before Ciaxares, had left his Sword with Feraulas in the outer Chamber, where he did embrace him, and Andrameas, Artucas, and Araspes, desiring their pardons for those inconveniences which they had suffered for the love of him: Ciaxares then, at that time calling to mind how much he was indebted unto Cyrus, under the notion of Artamenes, and what Artamenes had done in his presence under the Name of Cyrus, he calmed his mind, and commanded him to enter: Martesia would have gone out of the King's Closet, but Ciaxares staying her: No Martesia, said he unto her, you must have your share in the Pacification, as you have had in the War. Presently after, the King of Phrygia entered, who would have spoke something by way of excuse unto the King. But Ciaxares taking him by the hand, Speak not of any excuses, said he unto him, since it is my part rather to make excuses for not believing you, than yours for not obeying me.  
The Grave Thiamis followed the King of Phrygia, and presented Cyrus unto Ciaxares. This Prince did so much reverence the Father of Mandana, that he would have thrown himself at his feet, as if he had been criminal, yet the King would not suffer him, but lifted him up, and embraced him most tenderly; ask him, whether Cyrus could forget all the injuries which had been done unto Artamenes? Artamenes, replied he, shall never your forget benefits, nor ever he will suffer Cyrus to be ungrateful. But Sir, I most humbly beseech your Majesty, give me leave to answer directly with disguising the least part of truth unto every question that shall be asked me: and that you will be pleased to honour me so far as to tell me, Whether there do yet remain any grounds of suspicion, or fears of my fidelity in you? and if it appear that I ever failed in that duty which I owe you, if I cannot give satisfaction by my reasons, I shall be more ready to submit unto such punishments as you shall ordain. For Sir, what thoughts soever they have infused unto you concerning Cyrus, I can most certainly assure you, that he shall ever be most submissive unto your will, insomuch as there is not the meanest of your Subjects whom you may of right command, but my own natural inclination, gives you the same Supremacy over me: Now Sir, you see what are all the most real thoughts of him whom they say is the Ruiner of all Asia; of that grand Usurper, who must subvert Kingdoms, usurp Crowns, and reign by unjust courses. You may very well imagine Sir, that the same Prince who conceals himself from thirty thousand of his Father's Subjects which were in your Army, had no very ambitious designs; especially, since for fear to offend you, he resolved to lose his life, before ever he would disclose his quality. Enough, enough, (answered Ciaxares, with tears in his eyes, and embracing him again) justify yourself no further, for the more you endeavour it, the more you prejudice me, and the greater culpable shall I appear: It were more for my glory if you appeared less innocent. I am in fault enough, replied Cyrus' most modestly, since I was so unfortunate as to displease you, and to be the innocent cause of rebellion in your Subjects; I beseech you, Sir, (added Cyrus in a most respectful manner) to charge me only with their crime, and punish my Person for it. No, no, replied the King very sweetly, the very sight of Cyrus has renewed so much tenderaffection in my soul, that I cannot think of any punishing, but rather I will recompense them all in your Person, for preventing me from committing such an horrid piece of injustice, whereby I should have deprived all Asia of her greatest Glory, and principal Ornament: Therefore to reduce the soldiers and people unto the duty, reassume your Charge, Command them to return unto the Camp, and prepare them and yourself also to go very shortly into Armenia, to deliver Mandana from her Captivity. Oh Sir, replied Cyrus, I desire not so much it is enough that you give me leave to obey, and not command: Permit me only so much liberty as to fight in the first rank in the first Battle, and I ask no more. I do not know any (answered the King of Phrygia) that dare presume to be your General, and there is none who thinks it not an honour, that you should be his. The Gods (said Thiamis, interrupting them) being sole Authors of all the happiness which befalls us, it is requisite to render thanks unto them to morrow by a solemn Sacrifice: Most true, Grave Father, said the King unto him, therefore it is expedient that Cyrus do cause the Troops to go out of Sinope, to the end we may offer the Sacrifice with more tranquillity.  
Cyrus then obeying Ciaxares after he had made an hundred Protestations of inviolable fidelity, went out to give all requisite Orders concerning the business: The King of Phrygia, and Ariobantes stayed still with Ciaxares to keep his mind in the same resentments. Martesia asked leave from the King to go back unto the house of Artucas, as soon as the Troops were retired, which he consented unto, thinking that place fitter for her, than the Court where now there was no women: Mean while Thiamis waited upon Cyrus to the Castle gate, where after many embrace he left him, and went to take order for the Sacrificers. The soldiers no sooner saw Cyrus, but they began their acclamations and shouts of joy, not doubting now but that his peace was perfectly made; yet notwithstanding, he behaved himself with so much moderation, as was admirable; telling all those who came about him, that the King was so gracious as to pardon them; therefore said he unto them, it is your duties to extol his goodness: and resolve with yourselves to become worthy of it, by your gallant Deportments in the Armenian War, whither very shortly he will send you. Mean while, the King of Hyrcania, and all the Princes which stayed without the Town, saluted him, and great joy was expressed on all sides afterwards, having assembled all the chief Commanders, he gave command to carry the Army out of the Town immediately, and to leave none in the Town but only so many as usually were in it. Presently after, the King sent orders to change the Guards of the Castle: as for those at the Port of Sinope, they all perished when the Town was entered; so that restoring Andramias unto his charge, they drew off the soldiers which Metrobates had placed in the Castle, the number whereof was not great, because many had escaped with him. Cyrus' commanded him to be searched for very narrowly, but all in vain. This Prince went in Person to the principal Port of the Town, to see the Army pass; so that seeing all the Regiments one after another, he might more conveniently command them unto their duties: And because he was beloved, and feared, and reverenced by all the soldiers, they obeyed him without the least murmur, and returned as joyful as if they had won a battle, and as well content as if they had been loaded with plunder: within three hours, the Town was quiet, and the whole Army without the walls, excepting those Companies necessary for the Guard of the Ports and Castle, whither he returned to render an account unto Ciaxares of what was done: The King of Hyrcania, and all they who had not seen the King since all these adventures, were presented unto him by Ariobantes; and the night causing every one to take leave; Cyrus, by orders from Ciaxares was lodged in his old Chamber, where he was no sooner entered, but every one came to testify their joy for his liberty: But after all compliments had passed, and none but Chrisantes, and Feraulas with him, he embraced them with extreme affection. Well, my dear friends, said he unto them, Do you think we have now made our peace with Fate? or is this serene calm which we now begin to enjoy, only a breathing to give us more leisure in preparing yourselves for new misfortunes? The Gods (replied Chrisantes) have made trial of your virtue by so many several ways, that it is a piece of great difficulty to foresee what ought to ensue hereafter.  
But now Sir, (said Feraulas) you are at liberty, you are also known to be Cyrus; Ciaxares knows it; nor is he ignorant of your love to the Princess, and the Princess herself esteems you. It is true, (replied Cyrus sighing) but yet the Princess is in Armenia, and in the power of the Rival. Yes Sir, replied Feraulas, but it is such a Rival, whose ambition Fortune has so crossed, that it cannot possibly be thought she will favour him with any part of her affection: With such discourse as this, Chrisantes, and Feraulas, entertained their dear Master, until he was in bed: yet he was no sooner laid, but all the prodigious revolutions of his Fate came into his memory. The Image of Mandana appeared in his fancy, and entertained him until after midnight; Sleep was no sooner closing up his eyes, but his imaginations being filled with his Princess awaked him. The next day, in the morning, Ciaxares sent him his Cabinet, within which, he had put the Magnificent Scarf of Mandana very carefully, but he found not the Picture of the Princess in it; because the King had sent it back unto Martesia, who was returned to Artucas, as before I told you: his murmur at it was only in secret; and he went unto the King, who prepared himself for the Temple of Mars, where the grave Thiamis attended him: But that he might make it evident unto the people, that he was really reconciled unto Cyrus, he walked through the Town talking unto him: The whole Town did ring joyful acclamations, to see the most Illustrious of men at liberty: All the Kings and Princes which were at that Court, did wait upon this Ceremony; and the press was so great between the Town, and the Temple of Mars, that there remained none in Sinope, but only those who guarded the Ports. As the King lighted from horse, (for they did ride thither) within ten or twelve paces of the Temple Gate, Cyrus who was next him, observed four or five men, whose faces seemed odd, and were unknown unto him, who endeavoured to come nearer. Although he had not any reason at all to suspect, or fear any thing; yet notwithstanding, as if he were inspired by Heaven unto it, he fixed his looks upon on of these men, who had a very bad promising Physiognomy, presently after he perceived two of these men, pull out daggers; the one designing to stab Ciaxares, and the other advanced towards him, with the same intentions. The most generous Cyrus did immediately interpose between the King and the assassinate and received that blow upon his left hand which was aimed at Ciaxares: whilst with his right hand, he forced the dagger out of that hand which struck with it, and laid him dead at his feet: there were eight or ten others who abetted these two who undertook to kill the King and Cyrus, and who seeing the design fail, did make escape, during the amazement which every on was in, at the adventure: but Cyrus drawing his sword did so pursue these conspirators through the midst of this great crowd of men, and assaulted them so furiously, that most of them perished by his own hand: for after he had in a minute put the King into the Temple, and committed him into the custody of the King of Phrigia, and many others; he pursued the assassinates close unto the Sea side, whether they fled, and where a fisher's boat did wait upon them, that thereby they might escape away. Although there was a world of people about Ciaxares, yet the thing was so sudden, and so few saw the first passage, that it was a long while before it was known what the matter was: and certainly had not Cyrus interposed, Ciaxares had been killed and perhaps the assassinates escaped.  
But Cyrus, being aided Principally by Feraulas and Araspes, pursued them and killed them, and took one of them after they had well wounded him, who, rather than he would be taken would have thrown himself into the Sea, when Cyrus catched him by the hair; No, no, Traitor, said he unto him, I must first know who you are, and upon what score you have made this attempt: he had no sooner said so but for all the disguise of his habit, and face, and though he was all over smeered with blood yet he knew him to be Metrobates, who endeavoured all he possibly could, either to escape, or kill himself, or else throw himself into the Sea: But several of the King's guard being come in, Cyrus did put him into their custody, and commanding them to follow with him, he went unto Ciaxares, who was at the house of Thiamis which joins unto the Temple: as soon as Cyrus appeared, the King did closely embrace him, and this being the second time that he did owe his Life unto him, he did acknowledge it a hundred times over, and expressed as many testimonies of repentance for what he had done against him. Sir, (said he unto him, and causing that Traitor whom he had taken to be brought nearer) I give the Gods most hearty thanks, that they have showed you the difference betwixt Metrobates, and myself: As soon as the King heard that Name, and looked upon him, but he knew him: Oh thou Villain (said he unto him,) is it thou that makes such attempts upon my life, as well as upon the life of Cyrus? for the King did perceive the intentions of those two men who would have killed them: Yes, it was I (answered the Traitor most furiously) who not enduring to commit unprofitable crimes, intended to commit two, which would something advantage me: From whom, wicked wretch, (replied the King) didst thou expect a recompense for such an act? From so many Kings and Princes (replied he) as Artamenes by his good fortune has subjected unto you, who by this my Act would have been no longer Tributaries: The King of Phrigia, and the King of Hyrcania did then begin to speak, and say that he ought to speak more particularly concerning this wicked action: but he, without further pressing, and conceiving no hopes of life although he should escape of his wounds, told them that they need look for no other Author of the conspiracy than himself; and as for his complices, they were all of them dead. He confessed further, that seeing himself ruined, when Cyrus went out of Prison, he himself went out also; That since his Principles was only Ambition, he conceived all his fortunes utterly undone since Cyrus was at liberty: and that he thought he should receive a large recompense from the King of Assyria, if he had at once took away the life of him who possessed his Dominions, and the life of him who had conquered him, and contended with him for the Princess Mandana. Metrobates confessed this, with so much insolent ingenuity that the truth of it was not at all suspected. As for those who assisted him, they were all of them known to be the same Soldiers which went out of the Castle with him, and which he had brought from Pteria. The King, being not able to endure the sight of such a villain any longer, who had attempted both against his own life as well as against the life of Cyrus, commanded him to Prison, until some severe punishment for such crimes were better resolved upon; but that needed not, for he died in the hands of the Chirurgeons, and saved himself thereby, from a more tormenting death. Mean while the sacrifice became a sacrifice of real thanks unto the Gods; and Ciaxares renewed the tenderness of his affection towards Cyrus and to augment it, if it were possible, so that his mind enjoyed abundance of tranquillity. The Grave Thiamis, who from the first day that he saw Cyrus under the notion, of Artamines, and had ever most dearly loved him, did make an excellent oration, full of strong arguments to confirm Ciaxares in his good opinion of him: I should absolutely have lost my reason (said the King unto him) if I should be ungrateful unto that man who hath hazarded his own life to save mine, after my intentions of putting him to death: for grave Thiamis, (said he unto him) this most generous Prince, was contented to receive that blow upon his left hand which was intended at my heart, and to interpose his own body, between the Assassinate, and mine. No no, added he, never fear, but that I shall as long as I live, look upon Cyrus, as my Protector and Preserver, and as a Prince whom indeed the Gods has sent unto me, for my Glory and Felicity: These were the apprehensions of Ciaxares, when he retired himself ever desiring to have Cyrus near him: This action, being divulged not only unto all the people of Sinope, but the Camp also; Applauds and acclamations of joy were redoubled, and Artamenes was never so precious to the soul of Ciaxares as now Cyrus is, so that which in the compass of three days, the the King's Soul, and all the hearts both in Court, Camp, and Town were full of joy. Ciaxares would needs send unto Persia to the King his Brother and Queen his Sister, to let them know that Cyrus was alive: he then remembered, how at the birth of Mandana, the Queen did send to rejoice with him for it, and he out of a piece of Gallantry sent back this compliment, That he wished his Daughter might hereafter become Worthy to be the Mistress of Cyrus: and he gave Madates, whom he sent thither to present the same compliment this s●cond time, unto his Sister: Cyrus also desired the King to give him leave to send on of his own servants, and he pitched upon Arabaces for it, whom Chrisantes did send a letter by, o● rather a History of the wonderful life of his dear Master; also excusing his long silence: and telling that there was an unresistable fatality in it, which prevented him from doing any otherwise. After this, there was nothing that disturbed the mind of Ciaxares, but the absence of the Princess; yet since he replied so much upon the valour of Cyrus, his care of her was moderated by his hopes, and his soul did rest in great security: In the mean time, since it would be a long time before the Army could march into Armenia, and since Cyrus had so great a desis 〈…〉 know precisely where the Princess was, he moved Ciaxares, to send Araspes disguiseed into Armenia to discover where those women, of whom Megabises spoke when he returned out of that Country, were placed: for since Araspes was very well versed in the Armenian language, he was the fittest for that employment: Ciaxares then approving of the motion, dispatched Araspes thither with orders to find out the King, who doubtless world ere long be upon the Frontiers: Cyrus, the better to move him and all his inginuity to discover where Mandana was, did not only give him all necessary Instructions but a hundred good Admonitions besides; insomuch as though Araspes had been of the dullest capacity, as indeed he was nimble, yet Cyrus did prescribe such exact order unto him, that he doubted not of a happy expedition: and as Araspes used to be very familiar with Cyrus, so he could not choose but tell him, that if Megabises had been as well instructed by Ciaxares, as he was by him, doubtless he would have rendered a better account of his Embassy, and brought back more certainty of the place where the Princess was, than he did: I do understood you very well (replied Cyrus both embracing him, and sighing) I do confess Araspes I have spoken too much, when I consider your ingenuity; but me thinks I have spoke to little unto you, when I apprehend how much this voyage concerns me. If you ever were in love (pursued he) you will doubtless excuse me for being so importunate with you to use your best endeavours; but I see you are an insensible man, who may perhaps be one day Captivated by some beauty or other, who will punish you for the raillery you are pleased to use to your friends. After this, Cyrus embraced him again and could not forbear repetitions of what he had already told him. And as soon as this faithful spy was gone, Cyrus knowing that the King was busy with the King of Phrigia, went unto Martesia, with whom he desired to discourse privately, concerning his dearest Princess: As soon as she saw him come into her chamber, she would have thanked him for the honour he did her, but he would not permit her, No no (said he unto her,) my sweet Martesia you have now, no reason to compliment with me, the visit concerns my own interest, and therefore regains no thanks; and I do take so much delight in your company, that you are not at all obliged unto me for it. Sir, (said she unto him in a low voice, although there was none but the daughter of Artucas in the chamber who addressed herself to Feraulas as soon as Cyrus entered) I do very well understand your most obliging discourse, and to testify that I do rightly understand it, I will no longer deprive you of that delight which you take in talking of the Princess; and I will ask you, whether you believe she would grieve for your Imprisonment, and rejoice at your liberty if she were here? I dare not believe it Martesia (replied this Prince with an amorous sigh and blushing) indeed I dare not, lest I should deceive my self; and unless your goodness can dissipate my fears, and testify the weakness of my hopes, I do not know, either what to think, or believe.  
Martesia then presenting a chair unto him, and taking another for herself; and the daughter of Artucas called Erenice, being gone unto the window, discoursing with Feraulas. Sir, said she unto him, I cannot think, but knowing as you do, the greatness of the Princess Spirit, and also your own merit, and many obligations whereby you have obliged her unto you, that you can possibly doubt, but she will be very sorry for your imprisonment, and very glad for your enlargement: Why may I not doubt it, (replied Cyrus) since you are pleased to be so inhuman, as that you will not so much as lend me the Picture of Mandana? Have I not reason to think, cruel woman as you are, that you do but deal with me according to the resentments of our most incomparable Mistress? for if you had not known that she conceives only a poor common bare esteem of me, could you have endured to see me a Prisoner, a most unfortunate man; absent from her I most adored, and deprived of all consolations, and denied me that Picture which would have been a Cordial in all my sorrows, and an Antidote against any miseries? Confess the truth, Martesia, was not your cruelty in that business, only an effect of those secret thoughts, which you knew to be in the heart of our D●vine Princess? You are so very ingenious to persecute yourself, replied Martesia, that I do not well know whether I ought or can undeceive you. Yet notwithstanding Sir, since I must needs be sincere with you, I shall ingeniously tell you, that all the cruelty wherewith you charge me, proceeds from myself, and the Princess has no part in it: Not but that (and questionless you would conceive it so) she would not take it well, that I should give you that Picture which she gave unto me: yet for all that her thoughts are not disadvantageous unto you, although she be a little severe; she was a lover of virtue and glory before she was acquainted with you; and you must not think it strange if she continue so still. Yet Martesia, (replied Cyrus) would she have been less virtuous if you had given me that picture? No Sir, replied she, but I had been less reasonable: Well Martesia, (said he) be more inhuman unto me, than Fortune is unto a King from whom she hath taken away his Crowns? for she notwithstanding, does allow him the sight of that Princess whom he loves, and has her in his power: Cruel woman, must the King of Pont every minute look upon the real substance of Divine Mandana, and do you deny Cyrus the sight of her picture? You have again Martesia, discovered those secret resentments which are in the heart of our Princess, and are disadvantageous unto me. Sir, (answered she smiling) you had some reason to tell me, that I ought you no thanks for this honour you have done me in coming to see me, since I see you came with a design to quarrel with me: You may make Conditions of peace when you please, said he unto her, and indeed, it is but doing what formerly you have done: Lend me that picture of Mandana unto that day I shall deliver her, for I know the King hath restored it unto you. Sir (said she unto him) you are very urgent, but do you not consider what misfortune this picture was like to have caused? Do you not consider (said he unto her) how much joy it will be unto my soul? I know it very well (said she unto him) by that joy which this picture does usually afford myself: Ah Martesia, said he, you comprehend it but imperfectly, if you judge of my thoughts by yours: Why Sir, replied she, Do you think▪ I do not love the Princess, as much as my capacity of loving is able? Yes Martesia, replied he, I do believe you love her with all imaginable affection; and I do think Feraulas loves me with the like affection; but certainly he knows how to love one who you know, more perfectly, than he ought to love Cyrus: You are very good (said she unto him blushing) in permitting Feraulas to love any one more than yourself. But indeed I am not so indulgent; and what respect soever I bear unto you, I cannot yield that you should love the Princess better than I do: But for all that, I do conceive i● fit to make my peace with you; and therefore to compose all differences, I will lend you her picture unto the day you depart for Armenia, and putting her hand into her pocket, she produced it, and gave it unto him. Cyrus was ravished with joy, and received it with as much reverence, as if Mandana were present; he kissed it, and pleased Martesia so well, that she repented not of her complacency in lending it.  
After this, Cyrus having had no conference with her ever since his departure from Themiscira, asked her an hundred several questions; he desired her to relate every thing concerning the taking away of the Princess by Philidaspes; after what manner she was carried unto the City of Opis: how she was entertained at Babylon, in what sort she lived there; how the King of Assyria treated her, how she behaved herself towards Mazares; how they came out of Babylon to come unto Sinope: which way Mazares got her away, under colour of setting her at liberty; and lastly, how she fell into the hands of the King of Pont after he had lost his Kingdoms: Martesia did fully satisfy his curiosity, but yet she would not mention that favourable Oracle which the King of Assyria received at Babylon, lest such an averse story should too much vex him: so that he thought himself sometimes most perfectly happy: For when Martesia did mention with what constant resolution Mandana had repulsed the passions of three great Princes, and all of them most complete men, he was wrapped in unexpressible joy; and endeavouring to make her speak of more passages which were in his advantage. But yet, (said he unto Martesia, and looking as earnestly upon her as if he would penetrate into the bottom of her heart, and know every truth in it,) this noble fury with which the Divine Mandana resisted all my Rivals, was doubtless only an effect of her virtue; and the miserable Artamenes, and unfortunate Cyrus, was not any cause of it at all. Would you have me be so complacential (replied Martesia angrily) as not to contradict you? I desire to know, (said he) the pure and perfect truth, upon condition it drive me not into despair. No Sir, replied she, I shall not drive you into despair, when I shall tell you (though I had it not from the mouth of the Princess) that I see no reason she had so obstinately to reject the King of Assyria's affection, unless the Illustrious Artamenes had his entrance into her heart. But said he unto her, being full of joy, Certainly the Princess did not speak as much; these are but your own conjectures, upon which you ground these thoughts; and intent to flatter me? But however Martesia, I d 〈…〉 murmur against Mandana, I have received more honours from her, than I can deserve: 〈…〉 hough she should treat me coarsely, and punish me for my rash boldness, doubtless I should not complain. After this manner did Cyrus and Martesia discourse, as oft as he could; having now only three things to do. The one was to go into the Camp, and give out all requisite Orders for the Armenia War. The other to present all imaginable humility unto Ciaxares. And the last, to go and visit Martesia: supposing it to be a kind of seeing his Princess, to see her whom she loved, and esteemed so much: Indeed, Martesia was a Lady who was excellent in all things; she was owner of all good qualities; her beauty was none of those which do planet strike, at the first sight; but it was such as the more one considered it, the more fresh charms they found in it; for she had an excellent spirit, and a solid mind; exceedingly complacential and discreet, and the more one knew her, the better one liked her: Feraulas was not the only man who courted her; for during the time she was constrained to remain at Sinope, all the Court did visit her; all the Ladies of the Town were observant of her; and all the Princes, observing with what civility Cyrus did treat her, came daily unto her, and were much delighted in her company, for indeed, it was ever very pleasant: her ingenuity was not only natural, but much adorned with Art, understanding most of the languages in all Europe, and Asia. Amongst the rest of her Visitants, Thrasibulus, and all those illustrious Grecians of the Army, to wit, Thimocrates, Philocles, and Leontidas, were often with her: The Prince Artibies was he who was most frequent with her, insomuch as the Company was full of sweet diversions, being composed of persons exceedingly pleasant. One day among the rest, as Martesia and Erenice her Cousin were alone together, the Prince Artibies, accompanied with Thimocrates, Philocles, and Leontidas, coming to see her, the Company questionless was very delightful, since certainly the Grecians of that time were of a much more delicate and refined Spirit, than other Nations. Artibies, though he was a Cicilian, yet he was a most complete Prince, and although he seemed to be very melancholic, yet was very sociable. Thimocrates had Nature for his friend, who adorned him with all the advantages of body, that she could contrive in one of his Sex; he had also a quick and nimble wit, which rendered him most pleasant unto company. Philocles was not less exact and complete in all things, and the complacency of his humour was extremely charming. Leontidas was exceeding tall and handsome: The composure of his face was noble, his Physiognomy had I know not what kind of furious, sweet and meloncholy composition, such as did not at all displease: and although there was some kind of discord in his humours, and a phantasticalness in his mind, yet was he exceedingly pleasant.  
These four being altogether with Martesia, and the love of Cyrus being now no secret, that was the subject of their discourse; and after they had discanted upon the most considerable passages thereof, or at least, which were in their knowledge, every one began to complain of his misfortunes, according unto his own apprehensions: For my part, said Thimocrates, that which I think to be most lamented in him, is, that he has been almost always absent from her he loves; for as long as she was in Capadocia, the Bithinian War did absent him; and after his return unto Themiscira, he never saw the Princess whom he loved. This questionless is a great misfortune (replied Philocles) but yet since he lives in some hopes to be beloved, his absence is not without some consolation; and he has yet had no experience of that which in love is more rigorous. Although he has had no experience of it, neither by absence, nor the hate of the Princess whom he loves, yet doubtless he was apprehensive of it, when he believed her to be dead, as once he did: when I do imagine in what horrid frights he was, when he feared to find his Princess reduced into ashes by the Conflagration of Sinope: and when I fancy him, hearing from the mouth of Mazares in the fisher's Cabin, how his Divine Princess perished;  
I do confess my compassion of him is extreme; and I do conceive, that all the delights which he can hereafter enjoy, cannot equal those torments which he then endured. It is most certain (said Leontidas who had not yet spoken) that absence is a very grand affliction: not to be beloved is an angry fate; and the death of the party beloved is doubtless, a very sad piece of mourning: But yet for all this, if the Illustrious Cyrus was never jealous, (as I could never hear he was) then does he owe sacrifices of thanks unto the Gods of love, for preventing him from that torment, which exceeds all others a thousand degrees. But Leontidas, replied Martesia, do you conceive jealousy to be a greater ill, than the death of the party loved? Ah Leontidas, said she, think well what you say. I have sufficiently thought upon it, replied he, and I do feelingly speak concerning a passion which I have been too well acquainted with. For my part (said Erenice) I do conceive jealousy to be a very great evil; and do not think it strange that Leontidas should rank it among the greatest punishments of 〈◊〉: but that Thimocrates should speak absence to be the most rigid thing in the world, 〈…〉 ceive that his soul is a little too nice and delicate. That man must be most insensible (replied he) which does not find absence to comprehend in itself all other horrors: That only is his share, who was never loved, replied Philocles, for if I may so phrase it, he heaps up all the evils of love into one; and he who has had no experience of this, is ignorant of the supreme misfortune, That is a misfortune, added Thimocrates, wherewith a generous man will not be long tormented, since there is nothing in the world more just, natural, and reasonable, then to cease them that love not us. He who laments for the death of his Mistress (replied Philocles) if he be wise, has most reason to comfort up himself, since there is no possibility to find a remedy for his misfortune: he who is absent may find out some comfort from his hopes of return; and he who is jealous may cure himself, either by his knowledge of the virtue of her he loves, or else by his own merit, or else by despising her. You are not well acquainted with jealousy, answered Leontidas very fiercely, since you imagine it can be cured by sapient reasons; for it perverts all the reasons under the Sun; and puts the whole order of nature out of tune: Other misfortunes whereof we discourse have this advantage, that they seem no greater than they are, but jealousy is of such a Capricious, Fantastical, Malignant a nature, that it magnifies all objects, like unto those false magnifying glasses invented by some Mathematicians. It does not only make one sensible of real evils, but only of those which are merely imaginary; it causes one to suffer in that for which there is no ground at all. I do confess, said Martesia then, that Leontidas has described jealousy unto us, in such an ingenious manner, that I doubt not but if ever he was inlove, this passion has not much tormented him. To speak the truth unto you, replied he, I tell my tale out of my own sad experience; and therefore I may the better be believed, when I do maintain the jealousy is the most horrid torment that can be endured: If that authority (replied Thimocrates) be sufficient to justify, that absence comprehends all the evils which love can afflict, I ought to be believed as well as you; since the better part of my life has been droopingly consumed in absence from her I love. Upon the same reason (replied Artibies) I must not yield unto either, since I do but too sadly know, that the death of her one loves is the end of all joys, and an Epitome of all sorrows. Although it be but a piece of folly (said Philocles) to publish unto the world that one could never be loved; yet I am constrained to acknowledge that out of my own experience I have found this Thesis true; As it is the greatest felicity in love, to be beloved, so by the rules of contraries, it is the greatest misery, not to be beloved by her one loves. For my part, (said Martesia) I wonder at nothing more, then that each of you should so opinionatively maintain his thought; for indeed it is a difficult thing not to think worse of ones own misfortune, then of another's: and every one is apt to be partial in his own cause, and therefore I do not think any of you to be competent Judges upon so nice a question; although I know you all to be men of much wisdom and ingenuity. Then must you be Judge, replied Thimocrates,; for I am certain you are accomplished with all necessary qualities for the offices, since you are of a clear apprehension, and not interested at all in any of these things. It is true, replied she, but yet I never had any experience: yet notwithstanding, I do confess, (said she, and looked upon them all) that you have raised so great a curiosity in me, to know all your adventures, that if I durst I would accept of that offer, which Thimocrates hath made unto me: and therefore I beseech you all to relate them unto me: For my part, said Artibies, I have nothing to do but to lament, & be lamented, & therefore I shall be ready to give you satisfaction in few words, and afterwards my reasons to strengthen my cause: An absent Lover (replied Thimocrates sighing) who uses to engrave his misfortunes upon the barks of trees, and to speakunto the rocks, rather than not speak at all, refuseth not to tell you his discontents. For my part, said Philocles, I was never so happy as to procure a favourable ear from any that I loved, but I shall hope to find some sweetness from another whom I do infinitely esteem. There is none then but the jealous Leontidas (said Martesia turning towards him) who will not satisfy my curiosity. No Madam, said he, I will not be any obstacle unto your satisfaction; for I am not so spating of my words and secrets, as I am jealous of my Mistress. But sweet Martesia, after you have heard the recital of our adventures, and our reasons upon them, you must pronounce a sovereign sentence, which is the most unfortunate: he who is almost always absent from her he loves; or he who is not loved at all; or he whose Mistress is dead, or he who is plunged deeply in jealousy: To the end, that he who is the most miserable, may have so much consolation as to be lamented more than therest, and that your pity and compassion be his prize for the pains he hath taken in relating his misfortunes, and reasons. At the hazard at doing injustice through ignorance (answered Martesia) I do accept of the honour to be your Judge, upon condition that Erenice, my dear Cousin, will assist me in giving sentence: No, answered that pleasant Lady, I will not share with you in your Title, but will reserve unto myself the liberty to lament him the most, who perhaps you will pity the least. As they were thus in discourse, Cyrus, accompanied only with Aglatidas entered: and since he heard them in the outer Chamber speak with much heat; If there be any contest amongst you (said he, addressing himself unto Martesia) you know that your side shall ever be mine. You honour me too much (answered she) but Sir you must know that I am so far from quarrelling with these gallant men, that they have constituted me their Judge: and since I shall out dishonour my Office, I beseech you to undertake it, and to decide a famous difference, which is risen between the Prince Artibies, Thimocrates, Philocles, and Leontidas. Heavens, preserve me, repled Cyrus, from entertaining any thoughts so unjust, as to dispossess you from an impolyment so honourable: and I should rather take you for my own Judge, if I had any difference, then take the Office from you. After this compliment, as he was the most civil Prince upon earth, and stood in need of the valour of all these Commanders, to deliver Mandana, so at this time, to gain their hearts the more, he doubled his complacency to wards them: conceiving that the more he commended them, the more courageously they would fight for his Princes. He demanded them in most sweet and pleasant terms, what might be the cause of their contest, and having in few words told it unto him: Be judge Sir, said she, whether I was in the right in thinking you a better Judge in such a case then myself: I should be over partial, (replied he, and sighed,) and questionless, your uninterested reason would judge with more equity, than I should with all my experience: Afterwards, since this business did indeed sympathise with his own inclination, he was pleased to bestow an afternoon in such a divertion as was very suitable unto his own fortune, having no other business of consequence to do that day: for he had been at the Camp in the morning; and he had already been with the King, and dispatched all business to Echatan. After than he had placed Martesia conveniently to hear every one that spoke, and sitting himself by her, also all the rest seating themselves in order: It was his pleasure, that Thimocrates should begin, and address his Speech unto Martesia, as his Judge, although she did oppose it, after a while of silence, during which time Cyrus asked Martesia in a low voice, whether she did not pity that man, who suffered all the miseries which these four Lovers did complain against. Thimocrates began his story thus.  

The Histories of unfortunate Lovers.  
BEfore I begin to relate my particular misfortunes, I do conceive it requisite to conjure you, that you become not partially biased, by the elegant discourses of those who deny the condition which I assume, in being the most unfortunate lover in the world: for I very well perceive, that they being less unfortunate than myself, have more freedom of Spirit than I have, and therefore can better relate their stories. He who is not loved, will doubtless dress himself in the most amiable language, and will not omit any thing which may persuade you to compassion: he who laments for the death of his Mistress, desiring to move pity, useth all his eloquence to persuade unto it: The jealous Leontidas will be sure to magnify all his imaginary sufferings with his Reetorick, since he is possessed with a passion that is accustomed to make the least things that can be imagined, seem great ones.  
Martesia seeing Thimocrates expect her answer, did assure him, that she would not be so much convinced by words, as she would be by realities, and reasons; therefore, said she unto him, Do not you rely too much upon your own eloquence, in seeming to fear it in others? and so she commanding him to begin his Story, he obeyed, and began thus.  

The absent Lover. The First History.  
THat Absence whereof I complain, and which I do maintain, does comprehend all the miseries which love can cause, is so great a punishment unto one who exactly knows the newness of the passion, as I am not afraid to say, that he who can be absent from her he loves without extreme sorrow, did never receive any great joy in the person he loved, and does not deserve to wear the noble Title of a Lover, I say again, the noble Title of a Lover, since it is most certain, that he is not capable of that Heroic imbecility, which hath moved many illustrious persons, who are sometimes surprised with it, to act such great attempts, as it hath done: Amongst all those who did ever resent this kind of misery whereof I now speak, certainly, I am the man, who hath had most rigid experience of it, since love did only show me that amiable person whom I adore, to make me more sensibly apprehend her absence, with all the cruel consequences that are imaginable: Therefore I do not doubt; but at the end of my story, I shall obtain the prize of compassion, and my impartial Judge will sentence me to be the most unhappy of all these who contend for this mournful Title.  
Since I came into Asia, commanding the Regiments of the King of Cyprus, and sent hither by the Prince Philoxipeses; perhaps you are yet ignorant, how I was not born within that Kingdom. Give me leave therefore to acquaint you that Delphos, so famous throughout the world for the magnificent Temple of Apollo, and for the sanctity of the Oracles, is the place of my birth: and I must needs tell you, that I am descended from an illustrious Race, since I am branched from him whom the Gods thought worthy, so many ages since, to conduct unto the soot of Mount Parnassus, near the Castalian Fountain, there to receive the first Oracle which was dispensed; whose daughter afterwards was chosen to be the Prime Pythian, who pronounced so many important verities unto so many private persons, Towns, Provinces, Republics, and Kings. Since that time, those of my family have ever held the prime Rank in their Country; and most commonly the famous Council of Greece, which we termed the Assembly of Amphictions, was never held, but some of my Race were elected in it: I being therefore of a considerable extraction, and the Son of one whose virtue was above his quality; I was educated with all indulgent care. And though it may be sa 〈…〉 that the Town of Delphos is an Epitome of the World, by reason of that huge multitude of all Nations, which resort thither, and therefore it was not necessary for the Inhabitants to travel, for their further instruction in foreign Customs, yet my indulgent father would needs send me as a Student unto Athens, and afterwards to remain at Corinth until I was twenty years of age; And I did practise in both those famous places, all the Arts which one of my quality could require, as well in all the exercises of the body, as in the ornaments of the mind, and knowledge of the liberal Arts; so that when I received orders to return unto Delphos, it might be said, that I was a stranger in my own Country, since certainly I knew no body, yet did I know the names of all the prime houses of quality in the Town, and I remembered also some old men and women: but as for the young men of my own rank, or any of the springing beauties, I had no acquaitance at all amongst them. Thus came I then unto Delphos, esteeming Athens, and Corinth, as my Country, where notwithstanding I lived without any private engagement, although I had seen many rare beauties in both places. As I came into Delphos, I understood, that my father having some important business, was gone unto Anticires, and at his departure had left order that I should follow him as soon as I arrived. The first night, I was visited by very many, but amongst others, one of my Cosens named Melesandres, suited best with my disposition: and truly he was a youth full of spirit, and goodness, whose agreeable humour, was great delight unto me in my melancholy; as he did infinitely please me, so I had the good fortune not to displease him; and we did presently contract such an amity, as death only could dissolve. After our first civilities, I acquainted him with the orders which I received not to stay any longer at Delphos, but to go unto Articires: but he told me that I must needs defermy departure for one day longer, for there was a very stately Ceremony to be performed the next day, and I must needs see it, I enquired what it was; he told me that there were Ambassadors in Delphos from Croesus, King of Lydia, who came to consult with the Oracle, and who had brought with them such magnificent offerings, as were the richest in all Asia Since these offerings must remain in the Temple, (said I un●o him) I shall see them army return. It is true, replied he, but you cannot see in one day all the beauties in the Town assembled, as they will be to morrow at the Temple, nor can you ever see a Ceremony so great as this; For they do not use to receive private offerings in such state as they will do the offerings of Kings: As for the Ceremonies, said I unto him smiling, I can easily dispense with them. But since you assure me, I shall see all the beauty of Delphos at once, I will take your counsel, and not depart until the next day. Melesander and I, parted upon these terms, the next morning he came betimes, and since I was a stranger, undertook to show me all the Ceremony, and get such a place where we might see all. How indifferent soever I seemed to be concerning these feasts, yet I observed them with much delight: I went as others did, to see the treasures of the Temple, which were showed unto the Ambassadors of Croesus, before they brought their offerings: I admired, as well as they, at a most magnificent Chain of pearl, which once they say, the famous Helen was owner of: and at another also which called Eriphile Mistress: I saw there that flatly Throne of gold, which the Grandfather of the King of Phrygia did bestow, and the fix great dishes which Gyges' scent thither, which weighed thirty Talents; also several Statues given by several Princes: The sheaves of gold which they of Smirua and Apollonia offered; two Tuns of Massy gold which were of curious workmanship, and would contain an hundred Gallons of water, being made use of it at a Feast, which we call Theophanies: I saw afterwards (amongst such amighty Mass of wealth, which I cannot exactly describe, and which were given by all the Republics of Greece.) Obelisque of a miraculous Manufacture, given by Rhodophes that famous Lady, with whom, the Brother of prudent Sappho was in love; who to make it appear, she was in Egypt, where she lived a great part of her life, she gave those wonderful Pyramids, which are talked of throughout the world: after I had well observed all these Rarities, and a thousand others, which I shall forbear to speak of; every one went to take his place, and the Ceremony of the sacrifice did begin: Those who were to consul with the Oracle, did come unto the foot of Parnassus, which is just over against the Temple, where they did purify themselves at that famous Castalian Fountain; from thence they went into the Temple of the Muses, which is built upon that river, which run● into that of Apollo, and where the Pythian, being under a glorious Canopy, and upon a stately Throne; she receives the demands of them who came to consult with the Gods: after which, she retires behind the sacred Curtain, where being inspired by the Gods, she delivers the Oracles unto them who inquire of her: Give me leave, also to tell you, besides the rich offerings of Craessus, I saw the Statue of a woman of a great stature, all of most pure gold, and most admirable workmanship: a Lamp also of engraved gold, as rich as is imaginable. But notwithstanding all these wonders, after the Company began to settle themselves, I left off regarding them, but turned my head towards the Gate of the Temple, to observe all the Ladies which entered, and ask Melesander their names: yet because the crowd was very great, I could not discern them all, and many passed by which I could not discover; but I saw many beauties enter, which I looked upon with a very indifferent eye, and serene mind, without any penetration of heart: yet when the Ceremony was ended, the better to view all the Ladies, Melesander and I went close to the Gate, to speak with two or three of his friends; and I saw one come from behind the Pillars of Marble, which sustains the Arch of the Temple, whom doubtless those Pillars had obscured from my fight as long as the Ceremony lasted; she was a beauty so admirable fair, that I was dazzled at the sparkle of her eyes, and magic of her complexion: I no sooner spied her, but without further harkening unto what they talked, I pulled Melesander by the arm, and without taking my eyes off that wonderful object which had enchanted them, Melesander, said I unto him, showing her, Tell me the name of yonder miracle: Her name is Telesile, replied he, whose name is as famous for the charms of her wit, and pleasantness of her humour, as it is for the excellency of her beauty. At the Name of Telesile, those who were with us interrupted our discourse, and looking upon her as she passed by us, we congyed unto her, and followed her, that we might the longer see her: since she was well acquainted with Melesander, and much esteemed him, she gave him a Salute with such a pleasing smile, and so obliging an Air, that as her beauty did seem greater in my fancy, so also did my admiration; and I perceived such an unquiet joy in my heart, and such an interior tumult in my soul, that I knew not what I did; and to exculse my imbecility at that time, I was forced to tell them, that very few hearts were ever assaulted with such beautiful and poweful Arms as these which wounded mine: Telesil● was about seventeen years of age; her stature was tale and stately; her garb was delightful; her action was free, and natural: her hair was the purest black that ever eye beheld: her complexion was so lively fair, that it was not to be looked upon with imagination of Snow and Vermilion, Lilies and Roses mixed together: for Nature had adorned her face with her purest colours, adding unto these her sprightly and sparkling eyes, mixed with ingenious sweetness, an admirable mouth, fair teeth, and white neck, such as did infinitely Captivate my heart.  
But alas, I had no sooner viewed the fairest Telesile, but I could not view her any more; for she went presently out of the Temple; and the next day, I went out of Delphos; so that I was no sooner in love but I was absent. As we went out of the Temple and had lost the sight of her, because her house was very near it, Melesander and I going to dine together, and his friends having left us alone: Melesander, (said I unto him) if you be not in love with Telesile, I must needs conclude you are either in love with some other, or else you are not capable of loving any thing, for I think it impossible, that any heart which is not either prepossessed or insensible, can resist such an admirable beauty as hers. If Thimocrites, answered he and smiled, did not fall in love at Athens or Corinth, I believe he presently will at Delphos, and I do heartily thank the Gods, that I shall not be his Rival, if he chance to fix upon Telesile, as I do find some likelihood that he will: I do not yet know, said I unto him, whether or no I shall love her: but I am sure I do already infinitely admire her: That is a good degree unto love, replied he unto me, But yet Thimocrites (added this officious friend, assuming a more serious countenance) do not render yourself a Captive without some resistance, since there are many difficulties in the Conquest of Telesile. I will resist, said I unto him, by flying away: for you know I intent to be gone to morrow; but yet I beseech you what may those difficulties be in the Conquest of her? Is it possible that a Lady whose eyes sparkle so much sweetness, should be more secure than other Ladies? Telesile (said he unto me) has hitherto been very indifferent unto all the Courtships which any have rendered her, but that is not the reason why I speak of such difficulties in her conquest, for the merit of Thimocrates might win more upon that score then any other could; but there is something more capricious on her fortune then so: be pleased to know then, (said he, seeing me to expect his farther relation) that Telesile is of a very good house, since she is daughter unto Diophantes, which name you know, and who perhaps is very poor, and perhaps also very rich. Unless you interpret this Riddle, said I unto him, I cannot understand it. You will easily understand it, replied he, when I shall tell you that Diophantes the father of Telesile is very poor, because he ruined himself in the Boetian Wars, and therefore Thimocrates, Telesile will be also very poor, although she be the only daughter of her Father, it being most certain that although that house do yet subject, yet it is absolutely ruined: I perceive, said I unto him, that Telesile is very poor, but I do not see how she can be rich: You will understand both, replied he, when I shall inform you, how she hath an uncle called Crantor, who is very old and never married: he is the richest man, not only in Delphos, but throughout all Phosides, unto whom she shall be Heir if he do not dote and marry again, or dispose of his estate unto some other, as by the Law he may: so that since Crantor is an old humorous and covetous man, and will settle his estate upon his Niece or any else, but doth profess much affection unto her by his discourse, Telesile remains between both hopes and fears to be either the richest or the poorest Lady of her quality. This incertainty is the reason why her Father does not think upon her marriage, not yet knowing what the destiny of his daughter will be. That which best pleaseth those who are in love (said I unto him) is, that Crantor cannot disinherit her of her beauty. 'tis true, (said he unto me) for she has many Lovers who do look upon the treasure of the Uncle, as well as the starlike eyes of the Niece, so that never any had a larger Catalogue of servants than she: for she is courted, not only by such as her beauty has Captivated, but also by all the rich and covetous, and all the ambitious poor ones that are in Delphos: some of them not over engaging themselves, but staying to see what Crantor will do; and others do strive to marry her, poor as she is, and will put all their hopes of the future to hazard: yet either by reason of Telesiles indifferency, or Diophantes his prudence, all her lovers are kept at a distance, and hope well. See Thimocrites the fate of this fair one, with whom I do advise you, not to engage yourself inconsiderately. I gave Melesander thanks for his counsel, and entering into other discourse we dined and pleasantly passed away the rest of the day together: yet do what I could, it was impossible to drive the beauty which I had seen out of my Imagination; nor could I forbear discourse concerning her, although I did resolve it: When we did meet any one of quality in the streets; there goes a greedy lover of Telesile (said I unto Melesander,) and when I looked upon any Lady, I could not choose but say, she was not half so fair as Telesile, and named▪ her above a Thousand times in a day, before I ever thought upon it. Mean while the Morning came, and I must go unto Anticira, and although this place had a reputation to recover reason in them that had lost it; yet it deprived me of mine, I was then some ten or twelve days with my Father, for love had not yet imprinted the beauty of Telesile so deeply in my heart, but that I could endure this absence; yet would it not suffer me to belong from her: Notwithstanding, although I can say that sorrow did not much seize upon me during this journey, yet I am certain that I found little joy in returning to Delphos, where I had yet no acquaintance but with Melesander: but to tell you truly, my heart held greater intelligence with Telesile than I was awar of. And certainly there was some simpathitical Power in it, which in a minuit did force me to love her, whom I loved all my life. I perceived it at my entrance into Delphos; for meeting a Coach full of Ladies as they were going into the Country, as seemed by their equipage, I looked precisely into it. But oh Heavens, what pleasing trouble did I find in my soul when I saw Telesile in it, a Thousand times more fairer than she seemed before, when I saw her in the Temple: the Coach went softly by reason of some stop in the way, which of itself was very narrow, so that I had leisure to observe her with more attention than I did at the first time, for she had not pulled down her hood, but alas, I myself did draw a curtain between me and her beauty, after I did salute her with a very low conguy, I looked upon her so earnestly, and perhaps too impudently, that she blushed, and pulled down her hood, as if the sun had troubled her. As soon as I was in the Town I went unto Melesander, and told him that fortune had as great a care of my preservation as he had; for to guard me from the enchanting charms of Telesile, she was gone out of Delphos as I came in: You have better intelligence of her actions, (said he unto me smiling) then some of her lovers, that are of more ancient acquaintance than you are: for she did undertake a little journey unto one of my Cousins, and I thought that none could yet have known it: But so it is, (said I unto him) that I do know of it, for I did see her depart: though I do not think that I am yet in love with her, (said I laughing, though I spoke it seriously) yet am I very glad to understand her journey is but short, and will not be long before she return. It will not be above four days, said he, during which time I must show you all the rarities in Delphos, in hopes if it be possible to find an antidote in the eyes of some other beauty, against the chrams of Telesile. I did laugh at the pleasant invention of Melesander, and consented to do as he would have me: and during those four days, he carried me unto all the beauties: But the truth is, his design took no effect; nor served to no other purpose but to let me see that there was none in Delphos who came within a Thousand degrees of Telesile: Mean while, this fair one, returned from the country: and her return did give fresh invitations of visit unto all her friends; Melesandor went to her, and whether he would or no I went with him; though he told me a hundred times that he was unwilling to contribute unto the loss of my liberty: but in conclusion, my prayers prevailed with him, and he presented me unto the mother of Telesile, who treated me very civilly; and afterwards, I was presented unto Telesile herself, in whom I found ten Thousand alluring charms more than I could have imagined, although I fancied her Idea in my mind, as fair as fancy could imagine: I saw her, I saw she was most sweet and civil, most modest and gallant, and of a most pleasing spirit, indeed amongst a Thousand perfections I found not one fault: but that which pleased above all was, That amongst so many servants as Courted her, I could not observe she savored any, and by consequence engaged me the more, and notwithstanding her sweet disposition, she had such a kind of noble pride in her soul, as made her to Triumph over all hearts without vanity: and she made absolute Conquests of all that saw her, without contributing any of her endeavours to do it. As love was resolved upon my destruction, so it moved her, that day to give me some hopes to thrive in my new begun passion: for as I told her that my intentions were to wait upon her the first day I came to Delphos: You have been a long while (said she) in executing those intentions which were a great honour unto me since; If I mistake not, you were here that day the King of Lidea offered his presents in the Temple, and if my memory betray me not, I saw you there with Melesander; and I did then look upon you as a stranger, whose name I much desired to know; and indeed (said she most obligingly) I did inquire it of one of my friends, but could not be satisfied. This discourse, which was only civil, and might have passed for discourse sake between two strangers, had such an influence upon me, that I conceived it to be a happy Omen: afterwards I told her for my Justification, that I had since been at Anticira, and returned not until that day she went out of Dolphos; and that then I did myself the honour to salute her near the Gates of the Town: she than seemed as if she did not mind it, because she could not acknowledge it, without taking notice how earnestly I looked upon her; but afterwards, she was so good as to confess that it was so. This innocent passage caused her to blush, and from thence I grounded fresh hopes unto myself. I parted from her as strongly fettered in the chains of love as ever man was, and fully resolved to dedicate myself unto her service. I never endeavoured, as others use, to resist my passion; but on the contrary, I cheered up my soul in the humour as much as I could. I did imagine, that happily I might chance to be the fortunate man, for whom her soul was most sensible: for, said I, since all the men in Delphos do find their Courtships fruitless, I may more certainly conclude that she has not yet met with such a man, as she can fancy: If I do consider her as rich, it will the sooner advance my design, because my Father will not then oppose it; if I do consider her as poor, I shall be the more easily happy, for then her Father will not refuse the motion: indeed I did fancy a facility out of every thing, and so much feared lest my reason should contradict my passion, as that I did never consult with it at all: I desired to keep it as a secret, from Melesander, but it could not be; the flame which the fair eyes of Telesile, had kindled in my heart, was too great, and ardent not to appear in mine, and I expressed too many signs of my affection, to conceal it or keep it from being discovered: he could not motion any diverstisement wherein I could take any pleasure, walks were but musing unto me; Music made me only sigh myself into a dampish study; the sight of all the Ladies in the Town, moved me no more than a stone. The sight of Telesile only was my delectable object, and did with interest recompense me for the loss of all other delights: I was so transported with joy, when I saw her but one single minute, that Melesander saw plainly I was in love, as well as by my muse and melancholy: It was very requisite therefore to acknowledge it unto him; and to desire him that he would not oppose me in such a thing as could not be remedied, but that he would assist me in my design: I told him this, after such a manner, as he might well know, his counsels took no effect, and therefore, he did most willingly promise me his help. Then I went several times unto Telesile, and the ofter I went, more charms and greater civilities I found: This new Conquest which she had made upon my heart, was quickly divulged throughout the Town, especially unto both our Fathers, who were neither of them displeased at it: For the belief which my Father had, that she would be very rich, was glad in hopes of such a fortune, as might repair the Profusions of his youth; for truly, his Magnificence, and Liberality had much engaged it. And Diophantes for his part, fearing left his daughter should become poor, was not sorry that such a man as I, was in love with her: But he carried the matter so cunningly, that he seemed not to take any notice of it: and he was so well acquainted with the virtue of his daughter, that he did not fear she would too far engage herself, though she was courted by a multitude of men. But amongst the number of her servants, there was one, who was exceeding rich, and indeed much above me, though he was not of any considerable family, yet was he very assiduous and violent in his passion. This man was called Androclides, and had a sister who did often visit Telesile: and lodging near Crantor, was sometimes visited again, so that Androclides had a very great advantage of me; for his sister did not only solicit Telesile, but her uncle also: This was a very considerable circumstance for him who had as amorous an eye, upon the riches of Crantor, as upon the beauty of Telesile: For my part, it was the riches of her own self which I sought after; and preferred one sight of her before all the Treasures upon Earth: My endeavours to move her heart, were only by letting her fee how much mine suffered: for indeed a few days after, I endured as much torment as a man in love could possibly do; so that I saw her no more; and was so far from any hopes, as I absolutely dispaired: if I considered her as rich, than I thought Andnoclides would obtain the approbation of Diophantes, and Crantor to my absolute prejudice. If I thought upon her as poor, than my Father would thwart my design: but the thing which most grieved me, was that which at the beginning did most please me, I mean, that close indifference which she used unto all: for finding her the same unto me as unto others, the same equality seemed severe unto myself, which seemed a delight when it was used unto others: Yet notwithstanding, I no sooner saw her, but my sorrows vanished: and indeed the very sight of the Person beloved, is an infallible remedy against all miseries: there is such a secret kind of charmin it, as suspends the most sensible sorrows. I were not able to support my misery, unless I did sometimes enjoy her presence: my passion is grown to that extremity, that I am not only unhappy when I am from her; but I am far from happiness when I am not alone with her: neither is that sufficient to dissipate my discontents, and complete my joy, unless I be respected, nor yet that, unless sometimes my eyes do incorporate with hers, which moves a joy so pure in my soul, as usually the excess thereof produces a most pleasing disorder in the hearts of all them which knows truly how to love.  
Thus for a long time did I live with her, finding no fit opportunities to discover my love, otherwise then by my respects and submissions: for besides that abundance of servants which were continually courting her, I observed, that though she was ever very civil, yet she prevented all occasions of my talking in private with her, and the Sister of Androclides was also so circumspect about her, that I could never discourse of any things but such as were indifferent: I entreated Melesander to dissemble a love unto this Sister, whose name was Atalia; to the end, he discoursing often with her, he might take her off, and afford me opportunity to talk with Telesia; but in lieu of doing that office for me, he returned me an angry answer without any assistance. But to make some proofs of the miseries of absence, as it was the most pleasant time of the year, and Diophantes having a house under the Mountain of Himelta, which was the most pleasant Seat of all Phocides, he often went thither, and five or six of those journeys, with his whole family, made me as restless as any heart could be capable of: every minute seemed a day, every hour a whole year, and every day an age, but such an age, wherein melancholy was the sole commander of my soul; When I understood that Diophantes carried company with him, I was sorry for it, because I feared lest some should plead for my Rival, when none went with him, than I pitied the solitude of Telesile; and her discontents which I did imagine she found, did move the like in me: when Atalia went with her, I was desperate; when she was in Delphos, the frequent conversation which she had with Crantor, did extremely trouble me; and I enjoyed not one minute of rest, as long as Telesile was absent. Delphos was as a desert unto me, the whole Town did put on another face when she departed, and put on a fresh lustre when she returned: if I walked at any time to shun company, my walk was always towards her lodging; and I walked so far one day in a musing study, that it might rather be termed a journey, than a walk. The Sun by its absence did not work a greater change upon the Universe, than the glorious eyes of Telesia did upon my heart, when they were absent: Sometimes would I say unto myself, Did she but know I loved her, I should have so much satisfaction at the least, as to think, that perhaps she sometimes thinks upon me, and that though I am absent from her eyes, yet I am not so from her soul. But alas, pursued I, I am certainly further absent from her thoughts, then from her person, and the unhappy Thimocrates has not place either in her heart or memory: But ah me, would I sometimes say in myself, Do I not see Telesile in every place? is she not continually in my mind, in my soul, in my imagination, and in my memory? Yes, yes, Telesile is inseparable from Thimocrates, but for a consolation in so cruel an absence, Thimocrates ought to be as inseparable from Telesile, and for a comfort in my sorrows, she ought to endure a part of that which I endure, so that she might the better judge of my sufferings, by what she suffers herself: yet were there any equity in wishing the most amiable and excellent Lady in the world to suffer that for me, which I suffer for her? No, no, I am injust in my desires, and do wish things most unreasonable; All that I desire therefore shall be, that where she is, she will not think upon any of my Rivals; that Androclides especially have no place in her memory, and that the unhappy Thimocrates have a little room there. Perhaps it may be said unto me, that in my complaint against the miseries of absence, I do confound things, and mingle some passages of jealousy amongst my stories; yet it is most certain, that none of those jealous thoughts had ever come unto my heart, but during absence; and the truth is, I cannot think it possible for any to be absent from the party loved, but he must be a little jealous; yes, and after a more cruel manner than they are, who are jealous through fantasticalness, or weakness, in the sight of the party whom they love; but I never had the least thought of any such thing in the presence of Telesile; my jealousy did always vanish at her appearance, as a misty vapour does when the Sun breaks out; and her absence made my soul sensible of all the miseries which love can cause. Mean while, the report of all the Town was, that Crantor did often visit Atalia, and that she did solicit extremely for her brother; and it was believed that within few days Androclides would marry Telesile. This report had not yet reached my ear, Melesander during this time was gone into the Country; and absence was ever so fatal unto me, that the absence of my friend, as well as my Mistress, was very vexatious unto me. My father, who knew of the business, and would not have me so much dishonoured as to have Androclides preferred before me; and who also knew that as long as I continued at Delphos, it would be a difficult matter for me to cease my love unto Telesile, but that I should never endure that Androclides should marry her, and would oppose it by all ways, that an amorous heart could imagine; he therefore determined upon a course, which caused me most sensible sorrow, although in all appearance it should have rejoiced me, because it was honourable.  
At that time, when the famous Council of Greece, whereof before I spoke, was assembled: my father to the end he might send me away from that place, where he apprehended some misfortune might befall me, procured me to be chosen by the Amphictions, to be sent unto Milete, (from whence the Prince Thrasibulus was come for some reasons, which would be too long to relate,) to the end I might bring back a true relation of all the passages in that famous Town, which then was divided into two opposite factions: for although the Milesians had sent a Deputy unto the Assembly, which did sit in the Temple of Apollo, as Judges of their differences, although the Asiatic Greeks did not use to acknowledge them to be so, yet notwithstanding, since it was the party opposite unto the sage Thales the Milesian, the Amphictions, would be informed by some other way, and I was named for the business: Questionless there was never any of my age had such an honour conferred upon him, and at any other time I should have infinitely rejoiced at it: for indeed, to be chosen by the Grandees of Greece, for an Agent unto the Milesians in a business of that concernment, was an honour, which any man who was not in love might be highly ambitious of. This absence procured me misery insupportable; It was true, that the business was honourable, and very likely not to last long; my Rivals were all vexed at it, and it might well procure more esteem in the mind of Telesile, yet did I receive this honour with extreme sorrow, and since it would absent me from her I loved, all ambitious thoughts were far from my heart; and my misery seemed so great, that I could think upon nothing but it; yet there was no remedy, I could not without dishonour refuse it, nor deny it unless I should lose myself in the opinion of Telesile, and the world. Both my honour and my love therefore requiring it, I did obey, and within three days after departed, I endeavoured as I could, to defer it for a while, but it could not be obtained: I had therefore no more to do, but to employ that short time I was to stay in Delphos, as well as I could; I committed the preparations for my journey altogether unto my servants, and busied myself in nothing but watching opportunity to speak with Telesile in private; being fully resolved after a long contest with myself, to acquaint her with my love, if I could: but I was so unfortunate the two first days, that▪ I could neither speak with her, nor see her, because she was not well: The last day of my being at Delphos being come, I was extremely sad: Alas, said I unto myself, must I depart, and not so much as see Telesile? or acquainting her how that I love her the best of any man in the world? No, no, I cannot do it; death would then be more sweet unto me than my departure. I did rise that day extreme early, although I knew it would be noon before I could see Telesile, if I saw her at all, but indeed the reason was, because I was not Master of my reason, or my own thoughts. I went to bid adieu unto several of my acquaintance, but in what Quarter of the Town soever they dwelled, I was sure to pass by the house of Telesile, either in going, or coming, or both, thinking it some kind of consolation to be near her, though I could not see her: I received all compliments concerning my voyage so coldly, as surprised every one that observed it: and I carried myself so indifferently, as I wonder none told the Amphictions, they had made a bad choice of such an Agent, for such an important business.  
In the afternoon I went to Diophantes to bid him adieu, he embraced me very civilly, but since I found him within two paces of his own gates, our discourse was not long, and I asked his permission to bid adieu unto the rest of his family: he told me that Taxile his wife was not within, but yet although Telesile was alone, and not well, yet he desired she should see me, and commanded one of her women to conduct me unto her Chamber: Diophantes would have been so ceremonious as to conduct me himself, but I would by no means suffer him: at last he left me, and I went by his permission to bid adieu unto Telesile: I was so happy as to find her alone without any company, but two women which waited upon her: As her sickness was not great, so she kept her chamber, and not her bed: a little heaviness in her eyes, me thought, made her more amiable, and I thought her so fair that day, as my sorrows to leave her increased: Though she had been told I was coming into her Chamber, yet was she much surprised at it. Thimocrates (said she unto me) what's the reason you visit me at such a time, when none sees me? It is Madam (said I, saluting her, and coming to her with all reverence) because Diophantes thought it just to permit me, so much honour as to see you, and bid you adieu, before I went unto Milete. As I had not seen her since I was chosen for that negotiation, she seemed to be very much joyed at the honour which was done me, and commanded a chair to be given me, she expressed much civility unto me concerning that business. If my adored Telesile had expressed so much joy in her eyes, for any good fortune which had arrived unto me, without such a dismal separation from her, I should have received it with extreme delight, and esteemed myself most happy, but since my passion thought her something cruel in rejoicing at that which deprived me of her presence, I answered her compliments only with sighs. Madam, said I unto her, you are extremely good to rejoice at any thing which is advantageous unto me; but I do not know whether you would be as sensible of my bad fortune, as you seem to be of my good. You suspect my Generosity (replied she, smiling) since you think that I will interest myself only in the good fortune of my friends. Truly Thimocrates, (added she, and sweetly chiding me) you take my rejoicing at your good fortune in so bad a sense, that if any averse accident happen unto you, I think I may without injustice not be sorry for it, and I am a little angry that it will be a long time before I can be revenged upon you, after that manner; for you are going unto a place where you will have much applause; you will return back hither, after you have acquitted yourself as worthy of that employment which is conferred upon you, with abundance of honour. But since I cannot revenge myself by not taking any part in your misfortunes, perhaps I shall do it in not taking any part of your joy. Since revenge is secret (replied I unto her) and since I see you would punish me, I will afford you a most fit subject; and tell you, that I am at this present the most miserable of all men living. The most miserable? (replied she craftily,) for she perceived that I intended to speak concerning my passion, which she had formerly observed.) If you be so, then do not acquaint me with your misfortune: for I do not hate you enough to rejoice at it, nor can I at this time grieve at it without the hazard of my health; which, since you are very generous, I hope you will consider it: I then said, Truly Madam, (replied I) when I told you that you would share only in my good fortunes, but not in my bad: But since I have not so much vanity as to think that my most violent sorrows, will move any other then slight ones in you, I will discover some part of my misfortunes unto you: Then you are fuller of revenge than I am, (replied she) for I do presently repent of my intentions to be revenged, and you do persist to punish me for a thing which I did but one minute think upon: I do intend no revenge or punishment Madam, (said I unto her) but on the contrary, I endeavour to give you an occasion of it. No Thimocrates, said she unto me, I would not have you acquaint me with any thing, which may be disadvantageous unto you. Doubtless (said I unto her) you do already know, that which causeth my misfortune, and I have told it unto you since I came hither. If you did tell it unto me (said she in great amazement) than I did not understand you. Pardon me Madam (replied I) for you gave me an answer unto it. Then surely I do not remember it (said she) and certainly it is no great misfortune since it made no deeper impression in my memory. Hence it is, Madam, said I unto her, that my departure is so indifferent unto you: You know, said she, that I used some expressions of joy at it. You would have done me a greater favour (said I unto her, and blushed) if you had been troubled at it: and it were more equitable to lament the ill you have caused, then to rejoice at the good which you did not cause. Oh Thimocrates, (said she unto me) I will not share either in your joys, or sorrows, for I perceive you speak not seriously. Madam (said I unto her) you cannot, without doing me manifest wrong, think, but that I speak with all possible sincerity, when I do assure you, that I shall depart from you with such excessive sorrow, as cannot be compared unto any thing, but the same passion which caused it.  
Telesile stood amazed at my discourse, but desiring to turn it into a piece of Raillery; Thimocrates, (said she unto me laughing,) I see you are in the fashion, and as other young Gallants of your age and quality in Delphos, do use, you must make a show as if you did not hate me. But know, I beseech you, that I did never contribute any thing unto your humour: and that I do know myself too well to believe any such things; and for your particular, I do esteem you so much, that I will not believe you: for Thimocrates, if I should once believe you were in earnest, I should then accord your company, which yet is very delightful unto me: therefore if the sight of me do give you any satisfaction, desist from that which will be prejudicial unto you, and counterfeit affection no longer. I do not counterfeit (said I unto her) but tell you a most certain truth, when I tell you, that my soul loves you more than all the rest of your lovers, put them all together. Since my father (replied Telesile) did not give you any permission to talk of any such things, I think I may without any incivility desire you, either to change your discourse, or else to make haste, and take your leave. That is a most cruel word (said I unto her) and I will defer it as long as I can; if it be possible I can do it at all, and not die. As she was about to answer me, and assumed a more serious countenance, which made me tremble, Atalia, the Sister of Androclides, came in: Sister (said Atalia unto her, for so they called one another) I did think that I only should have enjoyed that privilege which you were pleased to grant me, of seeing you whilst you continued ill: and yet though I perceive that Thimocrates enjoys that happiness as well as I, I will not be jealous: There is this difference betwixt you two, (answered Telesile) that you are here by my own consent, and Thimocrates is here by the consent of my father. Since it is so (replied Atalia) I am very well satisfied: So am not I, (replied I) but on the contrary, shall lament my departure from Delphos: You have no reason to do so, replied Atalia, since this voyage will prefer you unto honour. I do not, value that at all, replied I. You have no reason to do so (answered Telesile, who durst hardly look upon me) since there is nothing which ought to be so dear unto you: After this, two of her Cofens entered, and I was obliged to go away. But when Telesile, who would not be uncivil before those Ladies, brought me to her Chamber door, Madam, said I unto her, in a low voice, if I do not die with sorrow during my journey, my heart shall return full of the same passion which at this departure it is possessed with: I wish your voyage may be prosperous, (said she unto me blushing) and I wish (said she in a low voice) you may return wiser than you seem to be at parting, to the end Telesile may for ever esteem you, as according to your merit she ever did. She spoke with such a modest Air, seeming to be neither serious nor in jest, that I knew not well how to resent it: So that from the time of parting, I found my heart so extremely troubled, as that for many hours after I could not think upon any thing: But the next morning I departed in such despair, as is not expressible; for every step being further from Telesile, I was sensible of so much sorrow as none can imagine, who never had trial of the like misery: Questionless it was much advantageous unto me, that my instructions were in writing, since certainly I should have very ill acquitted myself of my Commission, if they had trusted unto my memory: Telesile was all my thoughts. I considered how I left the sister of Andraclides in her Chamber; how I had left an infinite number of her Lovers at Delphos: my imagination did present every one of them unto me, both the rich and the poor ones; the handsome and ill favoured; not one of them, but sometimes I did fear them: in such a cruel manner does absence make every thing appear. When I was in Delphos, my soul found sometimes some tranquillity, for when I was wi●h my amiable Telesile, I was not unhappy; and when I was not with her, yet I knew where she was, what she said, how she did: So that, if Androclides should not see her more than I did, I should not have cared for any others; for he was the richest, and more welcome than all the rest. But when I began to consider, that it was absolutely impossible for me to know how she did, I was then most extremely melancholy: I conceited her in the morning's t● be in the Temple, waited upon by Troops of Rivals: in the afternoons I did imagine h●r to be discoursing with them, and they with her; at night, me thought I saw her talk of a●l the passages in the day: but of all the four and twenty hours, I could not find one minute, wherein I could reasonably hope, she ever thought upon me. Thus did I live without any consolation, until I began to think that Melesander was returned unto Delphos; for this I confess, I began sometimes to cheer up myself in the thought, that this officious friend would sometimes speak unto her concerning me, since at my departure I left a Letter for him which desired as much. But although this thought produced some sweet minutes, yet it was seconded by others of a more bitter temper; for I had such an extreme desire to know, how she would speak concerning me unto Melesander, after I had discovered my passion unto her, that it did make me most melancholy and restless: I could meet with nothing that was pleasing or suitable unto me, my inclination was so disposed unto choler, that the least fault of my Servant did at this time anger me more than the greatest would at another: and if love had not something tempered me, and told me that I must acquit myself of my employment with some honour, certainly I should have rendered but a strange account of my negotiation: but when I considered, that the honour which might accrue unto me by it, might render the more in favour with Telesile, I began to rouse up my spirits, and no sooner arrived at Milete, but began to transact with as much alacrity and diligence as was possible: I will not insist upon the passages of this great business, since it would be too long to relate, and is not at all pertinent unto the story of my Love, which is the only thing I aim at: Give me leave to tel● you only thus much, that notwithstanding all my cares, I was two whole months in Milete, and heard not any news from Delphos, because the winds were continually contrary for any Navigation; I thought at first, that my sorrows would diminish, but yet my soul would not suffer them; for I found that time did more augment my melancholy; and certainly those passions which less●n by long absence, are of a mean quality, and never knew extremes. Whensoever the wise Thales, with whom I transacted against the opposite faction, told me of any obstacle in our affairs, I appeared to be so extremely troubled at it, that this wise man, who could not d●ve into my heart, did think me the most ambitious man of honour in the world, and the best Agent that ever could be chosen: when it pleased the Fates that I had happily finished all my business, I departed from Milete, and returned to Delphos: And if it become me to say it, I got honour enough by the transaction of that important Affair; the wise Thales did me the favour to write unto the Amphictions in my behalf, and in such a manner as was very advantageous for me, so that I had very good cause of rejoicing, but my soul was accustomed unto melancholy, that it could not relish any manner of joy; for amidst my hopes of seeing Telesile again, my fears to find some alteration in her fortune, which might prove disadvantageous unto me, did infinitely trouble me; yet notwithstanding, when I did imagine I should see her, and that mine eyes should again incorporate with hers, I was infinitely pleased: In short, to abreviate my discourse, I arrived at Delphos, but it was so late that my father was in bed; so that I went to lie with Melesander, in hopes to hear some news of Telesile: and since he kept no very good hours, I went into his Chamber; this pleasing surprise caused him to embrace me with extreme joy, and I him with no less: But yet not knowing what I should hear concerning Telesile, I durst not much rejoice: I looked in his eyes for that which was in mine own, and after I desired hi● to bid his servants retire. Well Melesander (said I unto him) is Telesile the same she was? Is she as fair as ever? Has not my absence been favourable unto some of my Rivals? I have so many things to tell you (answered he) that I know not where to begin: and there has been such alterations in your affairs, that you will much wonder at them.  
Ah Melesander, (said I unto him) Tell me quickly in gross what they are? But if Telesile be either dead, or married, tell me only that I must die, to the end my despair may last no longer. Telesile, replied he, is living, and as fair as ever, neither is she yet married unto any of your Rivals. This answer having calmed my soul; and being now only inquisitive to know what this alteration might be, I understood, that as soon as I departed, all my Rivals rejoiced at my absence, though the cause of it did trouble them, because indeed I was the Rival they most feared: amongst the rest Androclides was well pleased at it; yet, said Melesander unto me, since his mind is divided between the hoped for riches of Telesile, and her beauty, he desired his Sister to solicit as much as she could against all his Rivals, and to prepare the mind of Telesile for him as well as she could; and without telling her the true ground of his affection, he did desire her to protract the business as long as she could. But the truth is, although he was in love with Telesile, yet he desired not to marry her until Crantor had settled his Estate upon her, as he hoped he would by the solicitations of his Sister, which was very frequently with him. But to make you better understand (O my equitable Judge) all that Melesander told me; be pleased to know, that Atalia, who loved the riches of Crantor, as well as her brother, did make as if she believed that Androclides desired her to solicit for him, only out of his affection unto Telesile, and that being so passionate as he was, he would marry her either poor, or rich: so that she having observed that Crantor was most sensibly moved at her beauty, (for indeed she was very fair) she omited nothing that might win upon the heart of a covetous man; she discoursed with him concerning nothing but household matters: she would chide him for his superfluous expenses, and seemed to affect all the delectations which men of his age & disposition use; insomuch as Crantor esteemed her as she desired, and propound marriage unto her. Atalia, who was not very rich, being Sister unto Androclides by the mother's side, did hearken unto the Proposition, and asked counsel of none, but assuring Crantor of her consent; she sent unto Androclides in the morning to come and speak with her: Brother, said she unto him, as soon as he came into her Chamber, If it be really true that you love Telesile, I have great news to tell you, for the truth is, I know of an infallible way how you may marry her, if you please: Dear Sister (said he unto her) how infinitely should I be obliged unto you, if by your frequent conversation with Crantor, you could move him to do that which in all reason he should? I ask your pardon (said he unto her) for causing you to keep company so much with a man of his years, whose humours cannot be any thing agreeable, or pleasant unto you. Brother (said she) I perceive you do not understand the way how you may marry Telesile, nor do you know what I would do to compass it: and therefore I will tell you, that it cannot be brought about, unless I sacrifice myself for you, and deprive myself of all manner of pleasures in this world. I should be most unhappy, replied Androclides, if my felicity should make you unfortunate: but yet what odd way is this, which I cannot imagine? It is (said she, blushing, and half laughing) that Crantor being persuaded I am ●ch, would marry me. Androclides was so amazed at this, that he thought he had mistaken her. Would Crantor (said he) marry you? what does he intend by that? He intends, said she unto him, to marry Telesile unto you, as soon as he hath married me: so that Brother, your good fortune does at present absolutely depend upon my will: for if I do satisfy his passion, he assures me he will satisfy yours; and he will move Diophantes to give Telesile unto you: Brother (pursued she) to marry a man of his age and humour, is a thing which I can never do with great repugnancy; yet my love to you is so prevalent, that I will master my aversion towards him, and I do assure you, that the delight which you will receive by enjoying Telesile, will comfort me, much more than all the treasures of Crantor. Whilst Atalia spoke thus unto him, he was so astonished, that he knew not what to answer: and since he was much troubled to make his sister understand, that avarice had as great possession of his soul as love, he went very subtle to work. Dear sister, said he unto her, I shall never give my consent that you should make yourself unhappy, all the days of your life, for the love of me; and although I do passionately love Telesile, yet I will never marry her upon such conditions as that you shall marry Crantor. Brother, said she unto him, if there were any other remedy for your disease, I should never have recourse unto this; but since there is none, I am resolved to be generous, and oblige you whether you will or no: I know very well, said she further, that you wish in your heart, that I were already the wife of Crantor, so you might marry Telesile, and that it is out of a compliment you are opposite to that which you think will not please me; for I cannot think you believe me so base, as to imagine more satisfaction in the riches of Crantor, than I expect melancholy in his disposition: so that being persuaded you cannot be happy but by my means, therefore I am resolved to contribute unto your happiness without your consent. Oh dear Sister, answered he, I will never suffer it: do you not consider the extreme old age of Crantor, his humours, and his covetous dispositions?  
Brother, said she, I will not think upon any thing but the admirable beauty of Telesile, the enjoyment of whom, will make you eternally happy. Androclides even desperate to hear Atalia talk so, told her, that since it was her own interest which moved her unto this, he desired her to consider, how in marrying Crantor she would infinitely displease Telesile, since she prevented her from being the richest match in all Phocides. For my part sister, said he unto her, I should find happiness enough in the beauty of Telesile, but I knew not whether she would find it without the Treasures of Crantor, and whether she will not be revenged upon me for the prejudice you should do her: No, no (replied Atalia) for since Telesile has not a covetous soul, she will not care so much as you think for that loss; but rather be glad to find such a fortune as yours. So that all the evil in it will only reflict upon me: all the hope is, it will not continue long, Androclides used many arguments to dissuade, and Atalia to persuade, whilst neither of them expressed their real thoughts, but both endeavouring to deceive each other: And thus they parted, Androclides conjuring his sister not to consent unto the marriage, and she saying that she was resolved upon it. Afterwards, since she was absolute Mistress of Crantors' mind, she sent to desire him that he would come unto her, and she carried the matter so cunningly, that she persuaded him to marry her without any Ceremony, by reason of Diophantes; and since Androclides her brother intended to marry his Niece, she did not need to ask his consent. So that without any longer delay, he married her the next morning, in the presence of five or six persons who had dependence upon himself, and the next day following carried her into the country, to avoid such talk, as uses to be of such marriages. Mean while Androclides was extremely troubled at it, and the starlike eyes of Telesile could not comfort him; but when he understood the business was past, he fell into an inconceivable despair. Yet since he did not absolutely believe it, he went unto a friend of his, who often visited Telesile, to inquire the certainty of is; and found there more than he expected, for Telesile was there also, being come to inquire of Crantors' marriage: That which was most observable, was that Androclides seemed more troubled at it then Telesile, whose generous Soul stood unshoken at the accident; and whose mind was so free as to observe, that the sorrows of Androclides were grounded upon an interest: he addressed himself unto her amazedly, end desired her not to think that he was accessary unto his sister's design, but would have prevented it if he could: I believe it, (answered Telesile coldly) and I know you well enough to make any doubt of it. But Androclides, said he, since the fair Atalia your sister, is perhaps more joyed to have gotten the wealth of Crantor, than I am sorry for the loss of it, I do conceive it more just for you to go and rejoice with her, then to stay here, and trouble yourself with me, who I assure has patience and reason enough about me, to endure as great a misfortune as this is. It seems, said Androclides, that I am more sensible of your misfortunes then you yourself is: It seems also, replied she, that your disposition and mine is different, and therefore do not look upon things after the same manner: Telesile did not intend any long visit, and therefore she returned home, where she found Diophantes, and Taxale, extremely troubled, at the news which they had heard of: This wise young Lady did comfort them as well as she could; and though she was sensible enough of the loss, yet she desired them, not to resent it so deeply, assuring them for her part, that she had no such kind of ambition, she would not be troubled at all for it, so they would cheer up themselves. In the mean time, all the lovers of Telesile, were much surprised: those who were not rich durst not think any more of marrying one who was not, left they should make both her and themselves miserable: they imagined also that she would not consent unto it, there being greater reason why a woman which is rich, should marry a complete man who hath little, than that two persons of quality who are both poor, should marry together. But as for Androclides, though he was very rich, yet since he found a great alteration in the fortunes of Telesile, he found an alteration in her also; yet he was ashamed to make his appear unto the world at first, and truly he did affect her with as much love as he was capable of, and therefore he did visit her according to his usual custom, and found all his Rivals there also: for never was any so much pitied as she was upon this occasion, and they could not have shared deeper in her sorrows, if she had lost all that was dear unto her: But yet within a few days after, visits were not so frequent, and amongst the rest, Androclides did often balk the house, and when he did step in to see her he spoke only concerning things indifferent; and one day, pumping for a handsome pretence to estrange himself the more, he told her, that he observed Diophantes her father did of late salute him very coldly, and as he heard, he used to speak very ill concerning Atalias, who was his sister, and it therefore reflected upon him.  
Androclides, (said Telesile unto him, who knew the real reason of this exceptation) you need not trouble yourself so much as to seek for any pretence to cloak your desires of seeing me no more, it is free for every one to follow his own inclination: and since I know you cannot love the fairest woman upon Earth, unless she be rich: so my humour is something contrary toy ours, for I cannot love the richest man in all Greece, if he be not owner of a soul which soars higher than his riches: So that I think it will be advantageous unto us both, if you desist from offering out of a false kind of generosity, your compliments unto one who has lost all that can make her amiable in your eye. Androclides was so surprised at the freedom of Telesiles discourse, that he began to protest, his thoughts were all contrary to what she said, but it was with such a forced airc, and in so many ambiguous words, as if he feared to speak to much, or engage himself further than he had a mind: Telesile then looking upon him with a scornful kind of smile; No, no, Androclides, (said she unto him) dissemble it no longer, and leave meat liberty to enjoy a Treasure which I prefer before such things as most moves your disposition, I mean a Liberty to enjoy my thoughts alone: Androclides taking opportunity by the toppin, made use of this occasion, and quite left off his visits, as many others besides did; so that within a short time the house of Diophantes was as solitary, as before it was tumultuous, and full of people. Telesile wondered at the weakeness of men; and when she beheld herself in a glass, she asked herself whether or no her beauty changed: but finding the same eyes, the same complexion, and the same in every thing she was before, she began to receive so great an aversion against all men, that she was very glad to be rid of their company: But since the noise of this alteration was high in every quarter of the Town, Diophantes to lessen it went into the country: so that when I was returned unto Delphos I found her not in it: and I was informed by Melesander of all this I have related unto you. This absence sat sadly upon my soul, for I fancied such hopes of my seeing Telesile again, that the privation of such a happiness made me not sensible of that joy I might well apprehend, in understanding I was rid of all my Rivals, and in hopes that hereafter Telesile would look upon me more than before: for certainly I did as much rejoice at her poverty, as Androclides did grieve at it, because I thought it a fit occasion to let her know the greatness of my love: But when I considered that she was not in Delphos, hopes extinguished, and fears revived in my soul: I apprehended, that the business of some men might make her hate all, and I could not find any satisfaction in any thing: The next morning, I rendered an account of my employment, and received all the applauds from the Amphictions which could possibly be hoped for: My Father was so well pleased with me, that he expressed many marks of affection: All my friends did upon this occasion visit me. And had I not been in love, doubtless I had found subjects of joy enough; but absence from Telesile did bitter all my joys; and the desire I had to testify unto her, that I was not of the humour of those men who had forsaken her, did trouble me much, as if some grand misfortune had happened unto me. During all this time, I could not endure the company of any but Melesander, because I could not freely discourse of my love with any else, and because he was so complacential as to hear me favourably, which questionless is one of the most sensible consolations, which one who is absent from her he loves, can enjoy: But after I had sighed away many a, day Diophantes returned and brought Telesile with him, who was fully resolved to avoid the conversation of men, as much as handsomeness would permit her: I no sooner heard she was returned to Delphos but I went unto Diophantes, who entertained me with much civility; Taxile did the like, and so did her adored daughter, yet with this alteration, her civility was more serious and cold then formerly. Yet notwithstanding, I was so overjoyed to see her, and to find her without any of my old Rivals, that I made no reflection upon it until after I was gone: This first visit lasted no● long, for since they came in late, it was neither discretion nor manners to stay any longer with them. So that I told Telesile, only with my eyes that I loved her; who would neither understand nor answer me in that language, which she herself first taught me. But when I was returned unto my Chamber, the faint coldness of Telesile troubled me; and I imagined that perhaps she was offended at my discourse with her at my departure; yet I hoped that my constant perseverance, might win upon her: The next morning I did as I was accustomed, before I went unto Milete, which was, to go unto the Temple, where I know she would be. There I found Androclides, and the greatest part of those who loved her before my departure: but they had all of them changed their places, for whereas they were wont to sit close unto certain Pillars of marble, close unto Telesile, where I first saw her, they now dispersed themselves into several other Sears: yet I, who not like them, was no changeling, did seat myself as I used in a place where I might see her, and she me; at the first she took no notice of me, because she was intent upon her devotions unto the Gods, but afterwards she turned her eyes towards me, and I saluted her with such reverence, as might make it appear I was in love with her; Telesile returned my compliment with a blush, and me thought she looked Androclides in the eyes, as if she would thereby tell, that all the world had not rejected her; and indeed her looks had such an influence, that though her action was without any design, yet Androclides changed both colour, and place; and immediately went out of the Temple, as one that was ashamed of his baseness, and would have been very glad, if I had been as unworthy as himself. I understood afterwards that the constancy of my affection, had almost made him renew his, and conquered his covetous inclination.  
But yet in conclusion, he was contented to shun Telesile, and me both. For my part I let slip no opportunity of seeing her I loved: and it had been very difficult for her not to do me so much favour, as to make a difference betwixt me, and those who had cast her off; yet notwithstanding, she was so absolutely resolved to love none at all, that she did treat me with much indifferency: Thus did I live a long while, and could not find a fit opportunity to talk in private with her; because she herself took away all occasions of it: But at the last I met her upon the banks of the River Cephises, which runs by Delphos, where all the Ladies of the Town used to walk, and left their Coaches at the end of a large Meadow, set round with myrtles, most delectable: there she was with two others of her friends, who after they had taken a turn or two, did meet with some men of their acquaintance, who led them by the hand, whilst I did the like unto Telesile, and could discourse with her without being understood by any but herself; for the freedom is greater at Delphos, then at Athens, or Corintis, by reason of the multitude of strangers which resort thither, and do insensible introduce the Customs of their Country. But Oh Heavens, how was I gravelled, when I offered to begin discourse! I no sooner resolved to speak one thing, than I did contradict it, so that we walked a long while without a word between us both: but in conclusion, my passion spurring me up, I began with a sigh, and said; I wish the Gods were pleased, adored Telesile, you understood the thoughts of my heart without my tongue, and that you guess how much I adore you. I can easily satisfy your wish, said she unto me, for I am so very well acquainted with the hearts of all men, that I must needs know yours.  
Oh Madam, said I, make no cruel comparisons, nor, I beseech you, confound Androclides and Thimocrates together: Androclides, said she, is thought to be very prudent; and Thimocrates said I, i● very amorous. Thimocrates, replied she, can perhaps dissemble better than others, but for all that his soul is subject to the same imperfections that other men are, who begin to love, and never think upon it: continue it through custom, and end it out of an humour, doing every thing without any reason. Oh Madam, (said I unto her) how ill do you interpret Thimocrates, if you should think so of him? For indeed, I must confess, that I began to love you, whether I would or no, but I continue it both out of mine own free disposition and reason: I departed from you as full of passion as ever man, I endured that cruel absence with unimaginable sorrow, and I return with affection infinitely augmented: although, I thought it a thing most impossible, that my love of you could admit of any increase, since the first minute I began to fix it upon you. Thimocrates, said she unto me, Androclides within this three months would have said the same unto all the men of Delphos, when he spoke unto them concerning me: Moreover the supposed beauty of Telesile, has now lost all its charms, since Crantor has put her out of any hopes of his riches. The reason why Androclides loved Telesile (said I unto her) was the riches of another, but I adore her for her own riches: No, no, Divine Lady: (said I) it is those eyes, it is that mind which I regard, and indeed it is only your own merit which I love, which I serve, and which I will adore as long as I live. Beauty, Thimocrates, (said she unto me) though I were owner of it, yet it is a thing which is as soon lost as any thing else; so that though your soul is not sensible of anysuch sordid passion, as to prefer riches before honour and virtue; yet I have no good assurance of your affection, and I am persuaded that you will do that hereafter out of weakness and inconstancy, which Androclides has done out of covetousness. No, Divine Telesile, answered I, you do not know me: yet to be sincere unto you, I do confess that the loss of your beauty would be an inconceivable grief unto me, but it would be in relation to yourself, not that it is absolute necessary to keep in that fire of affection which is throughly kindled in my heart: but I look further, and I find so rich a beauty in your mind, most charming Lady, that although those glorious flames in your eyes were extinguished, yet your soul has beauty enough to ravish mine, although you were not fair at all: But Telesile has yet seen so little of the Spring time of her beauty, that it is 〈◊〉 long time till the Autumn. It is for want of experience then (said she smiling) that I ought to distrust myself: And therefore Thimocrates, not to deceive you, I pray you know this, that how coarsely soever fortune has treated me, yet will I carry it as highly as ever, and will be much more hard to be persuaded then before: I suspect all men, and myself also; therefore give over your design, if you will be ruled by me: and I conceive you may do it without any dishonour; for when one runs away with a crowd, (said she laughing) he hides his flight amongst the rest: but if you shall persist in your Courtship of me, and afterwards make 〈◊〉 retreat, you will then be taxed with absolute inconstancy: Give over then, Thimocrates, go, and leave Telesile at rest: for she will neither love, nor beloved, she thinks herself so rich in her own virtue, that she desires no more. You shall possess my heart (said I unto her) whether you will or no: I shall know that (said she smiling) whether you will or no; and so mixing with the rest of the company, we walked on, and I had not any opportunity to speak any more in private with her; and my mind wa● so busy with thinking whether I had cause of hopes or fears, that I knew not what any said. But to shorten my discourse, I shall in few words tell you, that the hundred thousand services and solicitations which I rendered unto Telesile, move some acceptance of them, she knew that her father would not dislike of my affection; and she herself did so like of my proceedings and addresses to her, that she entertained them with as much acknowledgement, as she scorned them th●● had forsaken her. In a word, I arrived unto such a happy condition with her, that she believed I loved her, and gave me leave to tell her as much.  
In the mean while, Androclides, since he could not endure the sight, either of Telesile, or me, went into the Country, and so in time many others of her former Lovers, so that I thought myself in a very happy condition; for I saw Telesile everyday, and she was so sweet as to seem as if I were welcome: she had not directly told me that she loved me; but as I one day took an occasion to speak with her, she told me that there was news abroad which would make Androclides hate her more than he did; which was, that Atalia was like to bring forth a Successor unto Crantor, and it was true, but she looked so attentively upon me when she told it, as if she would find the bottom of my heart by the colour in my face. No, no, said I unto her, subtle Telesile, you cannot find anything in my face which does not speak that real thoughts of my heart, and you shall never find anything in my heart, which shall make me unworthy of yours. I wish I may not, said she hastily: She had no sooner pronounced this last word, but she blushed as if she had committed a crime, and endeavouring to mitigate that obliging interpretation which I might have made upon it, but it was with such a pleasing confusion, that I placed that minute in the number of the most happy ones that ever I had in my life; but Heaven knows it was seconded with as great a misfortune, as I thought that a happiness: for I was no sooner at my lodging, but my father sent for me, and told me that he ●●ood in great need of my company in a journey which he intended in the morning, & that I must prepare myself for it; I endeavoured to excuse it, but could not: but presently after, I understood by Melesander, that my father did complain unto a friend of his, of my love unto Telesile, telling him that he suffered it, as long as there was any hopes of her being rich; but that he would not suffer it now that hope was taken away: so that when I had vanquished the rigour of Telesile, and was almost sure of Diophaxtes his consent, unto whom I had made addresses by Melesander, a new obstacle started up, and I must be sensible of all the horrid rigours of a ●ong absence; for, to depart from her one loves, is doubtless a great misery; but to depart from her one loves, who loves him again, is incomparably the most dismal disaster that can possibly come unto a man: yet notwithstanding I must prepare myself for it, and go with my father unto the furthest part of all Phocides, towards Megares: I knew not whether it were expedient to tell him that I took my leave of Telesile: but depart we did, and during this voyage, this misfortune happened, that the Commonwealth had given my father such an employment, as was exceedingly beneficial, and augmented his estate: so that I met with nothing but obstacle upon obstacle; and I was as much grieved at my good fortune, as I could not be more, if the worst had happened. During this time, my father used all his arguments to avert my love; and sometimes also, I endeavoured as much as I could to persuade him to prefer the virtue of Telesile before any thing else; but when I found that the more I testified my constancy, the more I retarded my return to Delphos; I dissembled my thoughts, and made him believe that absence had wrought the cure upon my lovesick mind: But alas, how extremely was he deceived in his belief, for I was never in my life so deeply plunged in the gulf of love, as than I knew that Telesile loved me, and I understood by Melesander, that my absence much troubled her, and I fancied such a Heaven of delight in seeing her again, that I thought upon nothing else. Yet I knew that my father would not return to Delphos of a long time, if I did not very much think that I was absoluted averted from Telesile; Therefore I did v●zard my affection, and began to make frequent visits, (for we were in a great and populous Town,) and I fixed upon one above the rest who was indifferently fair: but yet I entertained not one thought of her which did lessen my love of Telesile: This Lady was of a most sweet, but melancholy composition, and by consequences could better think upon Telesile when I was with her, then if she had been sprightly, and airy. These visits produced those effects in the mind of my father, which I expected; for now he thought I had quite forgotten Telesile, since I was in love with Pheretime, for so was her name. But since he did not approve of this second choice, no better then of the first because though Pheretime was of a noble family, yet not so illustrious as he expected, therefore he resolved to return unto Delphos: But although this harmless dissimulation wrought good effects upon my father, yet they produced bad ones upon Telesile, who, as I came afterwards to know, was informed by the means of Androclides, she not knowing it came from him, that I was deeply engaged with Pheretime: so that when I returned unto Delphos, I found an alteration in her mind; and I understood by Melesander, that for this fifteen days she could not endure to hear him talk of me as she was accustomed: Diophantes also seemed to be changed as well as she; for knowing that my father was averse to any alliance with him, his mind was much angered, so that for some certain days, I was as miserable as any lover could be in the presence of the party loved: but at the last finding an handsome opportunity to speak unto her; What have I done Madam, (said I unto her) has absence removed me out of your heart? are you culpable of the weakness which I have heard you condemn? Thimocrates, said she unto me, charge not me with your own crimes, be contented that Telesile does not complain of you, not but that she hath sufficient cause for it, but she will not because she is generous: Therefore, (said she with a forced sigh) fear not, that my upbraid of you shall molest that delight which you take in thinking upon Pheretime. Pheretime? (said I in much amazement, and understanding then the cause of her alteration,) Ah Madam, you do not know me, you do not know her, nor do you know yourself, if you can believe that I can think upon her when I see you: I ever thought upon you Madam, when I saw Pheretime, nor did I ever think upon her since I came to Delphos: Oh Heavens, and most unjust Lady, said I unto her, If he has wronged me, who must I require satisfaction from? for I never saw Pheretime, but only to that end I might the sooner return unto Delphos, and see Telesile: Then did I most sincerely relate all the passage unto her; afterwards I beseeched her to tell me who was her informer of this false news: And after much praying pressing, conjuring, and importuning Telesile, she named the person who informed her, and is appeared to be an especial friend unto Androclides. In the mean time, as my heart was innocent and faithful, and all my speeches unto her most true, I made my peace with Telesile, insomuch as she did not at all suspect my constancy: but yet she was very angry with herself for seeming so jealous of me, which was the reason that I did not find her soul so free and quiet as it was wont to be; however I thought myself extremely happy, and I told Diophantes that I did not deserve to be punished for that obstacle which my father did intend unto my design. Now was there nothing which vexed me, but that against my heart I must not visit Telesile so often, lest my father should again send me away, as formerly he did; but although I did not go any more unto her house, yet I did meet her in other places, and saw her almost every day; I did several times move her unto marriage without the consent of my father; but she was so noble and discreet, that she would not permit it, and told that Diophantes her father would be against it as well as she, therefore she thought it the best course to wait patiently and quictly until the heart of my father altered: but I enjoyed not this calm very long, for by some fantastical humour of Fate or other, we were almost continually separated: one while a friend of mine had a quarrel; and I in point of honour must be his second, which caused me to fl●e from Delphos: another while Diophantes was sick in the Country, and Telesile was with him: sometimes absences did arise without any reason or ground in the world, as if Fortune had no other design but to persecute some long absences, some short ones, some premeditated, some upon a sudden: I no sooner came unto Delphos, but went out of it; and she no sooner returned but I went out: And it may be truly said, that I never parted from her, but some misfortune or other fell out: There was continually some little quarrel or other between us, which absence was the cause of: and I remember one day, I was so fantastical as to complain that I found her always too fair at my returns: for said I unto her, my adored Telesile, if my absence should trouble you, as yours does me, I should find the freshness of your fair complexion look more pale upon it, and should see some signs of melancholy in your sprightly eyes, which would make me extremely glad; whereas on the contrary I see a joy which disquiets me, fearing that my return is not the only cause of it. In a word, I had as much trial of absence in all its kinds, as ever man had, and suffered as deeply as any Lover could do. But whether I was absent out of any advantageous reason, or by reason of any angry accident, my soul was never sensible either of joy or sorrow, which those several causes might have moved: nor did I apprehend any other motions in my soul then such as love only was cause of: After then a month's absence, and a hundred thousand sorrows, I returned to Delphos, where I understood that Atalia the Sister of Androclides, and wife of Crantor, was dead, in childbed of a Son, and that the Son also died a few days after the mother: so that Telesile was in greater hopes than ever, to be the richest fortune in all Greece: for it seems that Crantor repented of his marriage, and was not at all pleased with Atalia: so that now my father could not upbraid me with the small portion of Telesile any longer, but thought me most happy in my choice: For my part I could never suspect that she would suffer the change of her fortune to change her mind, but I feared that Diophantes would to my prejudice take exceptions against my father; so that to make the more haste, I went with post-speed unto a house which my father had, about two day's journey from Delphos, where then I was, with intentions to acquaint him with my affection unto Telesile, but as ill luck was, I could not find him there, but must wait eight days before his return: for the men he left at home, knew only when he would return, but not whither he was gone: At his return, I did acquaint him with my business, and received an answer according unto my hopes, so that I returned unto Delphos the most satisfied man in the world. I understood also when I came there, that Crantor was suddenly dead; so that after I had first been at mine own lodging, to put myself in a condition first to appear before Telesile, I went unto her, but I was infinitely amazed to find almost all the Town there, and most especially all my old Rivals, in the first rank of whom was Androclides: yet notwithstanding since the condition of Diophantes deserved so much civility, upon such an occasion of mourning, I persuaded myself that it was the●r business unto him, and not to her, who I thought they durst never be so impudent as to speak unto after so much business, but I was much deceived in my conjectures, for as soon as the first days of ceremonious mourning were passed; Telesile was importuned by all those who had before unworthily rejected her, and by some also who never thought upon her before.  
Then did I engage Melesander to speak unto Diophantes, and tell him that he might very well make a difference, between me and the rest of Telesiles pretenders: but whether because now the choice being in him, he would not be too hasty, or because he intended a revenge upon my Father, he returned him a very cold answer, and would not give any consent, but rather put into despair: yet had I so much consolation as to find no alteration at all in Telesile, but saw her scorn all those whom her Fortunes rather than her beauty, had invited thither: Yet, as if Fortune would have it, there came at that time to Delphes a man of great quality, called Menecrates, who had been long in Travel, and at his return fell in love with Telesile, who having share in the crimes of the rest, troubled me very much: for he was handsome; of an Illustrious Family, and his fortunes very Noble; yet notwithstanding, Telesile did behave herself so wisely, that the very sight of her did dissipate all my ●ears, and gave me so much freedom of spirit, as to laugh at the dissembled actions of all these unworthy lovers, who were so much ashamed, and whose spirits were so dejected, that they durst hardly speak: but yet they waited upon her, and visited her whether she would or no: as for Androclides, he went more prudently to work, for he laboured more to gain Diophantes the Father, then to appease the displeasure of the daughter. I know not what means he used, but I was told that he had so insinuated himself into the favour of the Father, that there was great likelihoods he should shortly be the husband of the daughter. I went immediately unto her, in hopes to qualify my fears, and to receive some fresh testimony of affection from her which might confirm me: but I found Androclides there, who being more confident by reason of his hopes in Diophantes, did speak unto her concerning his passion more openly than he did before the death of Crantor. When I understood below, that he was alone with her, I went up in all haste, and as soon as I came unto the Chamber door, stayed there, not well knowing whether I should enter, or hearken; but the door being open, and the hangings hiding me, I stayed to hear their discourse, and heard Telesile say in a sharp tone; No Androclides, deceive not yourself, It is not I who ought to recompense you for all your cares and services: for it is not Telesile whom you loved, nor who loves you, and therefore she is not at all obliged unto you. When I heard this wellpleasing discourse, I confess I resolved not to enter so soon; and indeed I could never prefer any thing, above the sight of her I loved before this time. Then I heard Androclides tell her, that he valued not the Treasures of Crantor, but only for the love of her: Rather say for the love of yourself, replied Telesile, and know, that though you should employ all your life in persuading me, that you love me, I should not believe it; No, no, Androclides, I value not myself so low, as to accept of half a heart; a heart which has doted upon that which is unworthy to be put in the balance with Telesile, and is the object only of base souls: Indeed I should sooner pardon one that is unconstant, who should reject me for one that is fairer than myself, than I would a covetous wretch, who rejects me, because I am not rich enough for his palate: for confess the truth (said she unto him,) if I should be so foolish as to marry you, and should afterwards by any cross accidents lose all those things which are the bassis of your affection; that I should have neither any Lands, nor Jewels, nor any houses or householdstuff, but that Telesile should be without any of these charms which you value most; confess the truth, I say Androcldes, would you love her still? Doubtless I should, answered he in much amazement: I cannot believe it, (answered she) but Androclides, I will let you see that I am not guilty of that crime with which you tax me, and that it is not the present condition of my Fortune, which moves me to speak so violently, know therefore—  
When Telesile said so, I confess my heart began to beat, and I made such a noise behind the hangings, as I might well have been heard, if Telesile had not been in passionate choler, and Androclides amazed. But after I was quietly settled I heard her pursue her discourse; Know therefore (said she) that it is not the alteration in my fortunes which moves me to treat you as I do; and though I were in the same condition I was within this Month, yet should I not pardon you for what you have done, for truly I can never marry any man but such an one as I esteem, and I cannot esteem that man, wheloves me only for what I have, and for such things as are below myself. Telesile had no sooner said this, but I fearing lest Androclides should by his submissions mollify her, did hastily enter into her chamber; and so amazed my Rival, that he could not handsomely recollect himself: Since what I had heard did fill my heart with joy, my company, if I dare say it, was more pleasant unto her, than Androclides, for since he never loved her, but for ends; his resentments of her scorn, was more gross, and his sorrows more apparent: his base behaviour before, also struck him dumb, and did Captivate his spirits: for my part, I did imagine that I lead him all that day in Triumph: presently after, there came in many Ladies, and in the general discourse, I spoke many stinging words concerning Androclides, and he answered me in such a language, in which he designed the like unto me, but knew not how, for he could not upbraid me with any thing, although I rubbed up a hundred several truths which were very unpleasant unto him. Telesile took great delight to see me quip him in that manner; yet as she was very prudent, so she did divers times divert the discourse, fearing it might come to a sharper business: Not that she thought I would be so uncivil as to quarrel with Androclides in that place; but because she imagined he would be easily nettled, since he was so culpable, and that the wittiest and sinest kind of Raillery, would incense him to become furious: and truly it was a difficult matter for me, in spite of all generosity, not to insult upon any unfortunate Rival that day. In going from Telesile, he went to Diophantes, who was walking towards the Castalian Fountain: so that when I returned home, I understood by Melesander, that my Rival was with the Father of my Mistress, and I understood the next morning, that Diophantes, more valuing the great estate of Androclides, than his rejecting of Telesile, and perhaps excusing his inclination by his own, did absolutely command his daughter to look better upon Androclides; for indeed he was fully resolved, she should either marry him or Menecrates, I came to know thus much by one of her women, which Melesander helped me unto, who heard all the discourse between Diophantes, and Telesile: So that all the hopes and consolation which I had was only in Telesile, who I knew very well did scorn Androclides, and did not love Menecrates, nor did she hate me: All I feared was her great virtue, which perchance would not contradict the commands of her Father: for that woman which told me what Diophantes had said unto his daughter, did not tell me what answer Telesile returned, saying that they spoke so low, she could not understand it: I being then in this condition went one evening unto Melesander to consult with him, what was the best remedy against such a disaster: his servants told me that he was gone out to walk in a great Meadow behind the Temple of the Muses, there I went also, but in sieu of finding my friend. I found Androclides walking all alone: The servants of Melesander told me so confidently that their Master would be there, and it being something dark, I also being prejudicated, mistook him, and thought him to be Melesander, so that coming close to him, Must Telesile, said I unto him, be continually troubled with the covetous Androclides? Androclides (answered he, and knowing me by my voice) will continually persecute Telesile, though it were to no other end but to persecute Thimocrates; and Thimocrates (answered I, being extremely surprised at my mistake) will quickly rid her both of her perseentors and mine, when I shall please; In saying so, I laid my hand upon my sword: and Androclides without loss of time, drawing his, and I mine after him, he fell fiercely upon me, pronouncing some words undistinctly which I could not understand: I shall not stand to particularise a Combat which was without witnesses, but leave you to judge by the event, at what I did: Androclides, was doubtless both gallant and well skilled, so that if I had not been more fortunate than he, at this bout doubtless I had been vanquished: yet the fight was not long, for being run through the body he fell, reeling as far as a little gate of the Temple, which was never used, but upon certain days of Sacrifice: I went unto him, thinking he was only wounded, and moving him to acknowledge the advantage, I found he was without more motion, or any appearance of life: yet in point of generosity I would try whether there was any way of help unto him, whilst Menecrates passed by, being waited upon by some servants, and since the Moon shined very clear, he perceived the glittering of my Sword at the gate of the Temple; and knowing it was no place for any such business, he came strait unto me, but when I perceived several men, I retired in all haste, not being known by them, though Menecrates caused some of his servants to follow me: but he remained with Androclides, whom he knew, and though he was his Rival, yet took care of him. Some sacrificers hearing a noise ran thither, and were much amazed at the profanation, for the place where we fought was sacred ground, and the gate of the Temple was all blood. They carried this Corpse unto the next house, where he showed some signs of life, in so much as by virtue of some spirits, he recovered speech, and told all the truth unto Menecrates, and so by consequence my act was made known unto all my Rivals by two malevolent witnesses. Androclides knowing that now Thimocrates had spoiled his hopes of Telesile, would not besmear him with a lie: Menecrates thinking himself obliged unto me for ridding him of a terrible Rival whom Diophantes preferred before all the rest, would make me a recompense by his sincerity: yet however, the Combat caused a great neyse about the Town: the place where he was wounded did aggravate the crime: The Bithian made land complaints, the people of Delphos said it was an ill passage: and since Androclides was dead, which was the next day, I knew there was no safety for me in the Town. Presently after the Combat, I retired unto Melesander, who the same night conveyed me unto the house of a friend, where in all likelihood they would not search for me: It is not an easy matter to relate unto you my sorrows upon this occasion: for when I considered how I must leave Telesile, in a time when Diophantes would infallibly marry her, and in a time when she had a Thousand servants, I wished with all my heart, that Androclides were alive again: And if I had killed the dearest friend upon Earth, I could not have greaved more, than I did for the kill of my Rival: Telesile was extremely sad at it: and both by her natural goodness, and many other signs, she testified as much: In the mean while, I am prosecuted and fought after: and all the endeavours of my Father to qualify the matter were in vain: All he could do, was to protract the matter, and keep them from pronouncing speedy Condemnation: since the Council of the Amphictions did not si● I had less protection, then if they had: At the last, the sentence was, that I should be banished for three years, and not to return into any part of Phocides upon pain of death: This sentence of Grace, was indeed to me a sentence of death: for when I considered what joy my Rival would apprehend; how much my banishment made for them, and how I had ruined myself, my reason was so confounded, that I was not master of my own thoughts: I told Melesander that I would not go out of Delphos, but remain still concealed, and indeed I stayed then above a month after my condemnation; during which time I understood that my Rivals were every day with Telesile, nor could I blame her, since she could not avoid them: and though I understood by Melesander that she was exceeding sensible of my misfortune, which she out of her goodness was pleased to call hers, yet I could not endure to be deprived of her sight: In the mean time, I was in danger to be taken three or four times, and I was forced to change the place of my retreat above six times, because Melesander and I were informed that it was discovered where I was: nor was it either strange or difficult, for all my Rivals were spies unto them which prosecuted against me: So that Telesile not liking that I should expose myself unto so much danger for her, did write a Letter unto me, by which she absolutely commanded me to depart not only out of Delphos and Phocides, but also out of Greece. Since I did lie concealed I had written very often unto her, but did receive no answer: after I had read her Letter, I answered her, that since it was her pleasure I should depart, I beseeched to permit me the sight of her, and to bid her adieu: Melesander did all he could to hinder me from ask such a favour as might so much endanger me, and which perhaps Telesile would not consent unto; but I did peremptorily tell him, that I would never out of Delphos until I had spoken with her. This faithful friend than went unto her, and told her my full resolution: she was extremely angry: she told Melesander, that my affection unto her was inconsiderate: that her honour was not dear unto me: that I was not reasonable, and that I asked such a thing which she ought not to consent unto; and therefore she protested that she was resolute, and would not upon any terms allow it; but, said Melesander unto her, were it not better to suffer it, then to suffer them to find out Thimocaates, and put him to death? Ah Melesander (said she unto him) you are no less unreasonable than your friend, to press me unto that which I will not do, and to urge me unto it against my mind: At the last, after a long contest, she told him, that so he would contrive a way, which would not any way expose me unto danger, and which would be handsome for her, she would see me, though (said she) it be to ground me in my obstinacy: Melesander then bethinking himself, proposed unto her, to make a visit unto one of his cousins, as formerly she used to do, who was one of great merit and virtue, unto whom he would bring me the night before she came thither. But (said she unto him) what will your cousin think? what will yourself think? & what will Thimocrates think? No, no, Melesander, I cannot, I cannot consent unto such a meeting; and indeed he could not that day persuade her. But the next day, I was in such danger to be taken, that I was glad to take a new Sanctuary, and she fearing to be the cause of my death, it moved her to consent to see me at Melesanders' cousins, provided that she and he would be present at our discourse. I cannot express the joy I then apprehended when I heard I was to see Telesile, though it was only to bid her adieu. But in short, I was that night carried unto Melesanders' cousin, where my adored Telesile should meet me the next morning, waited upon only by that woman, who was my confident: It is not easy for me to describe how this visit did go against the hair of her disposition, and against that precise virtue whereof she made profession: she came unto the chamber, where I was alone with Melesander, and her cousin, as if she had committed a great crime in coming, and addressing herself unto her, What will you think of me, (said she unto her,) for coming to you with resolutions to quarrel with your friends? I should think (answered she, for we had told her all the business) that you would have been most inhuman, if you had exposed so precious a life as that of Thimocrates unto danger. Madam, (said I then, not giving her time to answer) I most humbly beseech you pardon the trouble I have put you unto, and believe that if I could possibly have done otherwise, I should not have forced your inclination so far. After this we all sat down, and discoursed a long time of the misfortune which had fallen upon me, and of the resolute obstinacy of my enemies in prosecuting against me, since Telesile would not permit me any privacy with her: But some or other desiring to speak with Melesanders' Cousin about some important business, she desired Telesile to excuse her a little while, and when she had spoken with this party in another chamber she would return unto her again: so that without neglecting this opportunity, whilst Melesander went unto the window with a woman which accompanied his cousin; Madam, said I, are you then resolved upon my departure, and that I must absent myself from you without any knowledge whether you will honour Thimocrates with any remembrance of him? But Madam, he is not able to depart upon such conditions: The affection he bears unto you is too violent to endure it: and if you be not pleased of your goodness to give him some obliging hopes, to comfort him in his absence, he will not depart at all. I shall tell you, for your satisfaction, replied Telesile, that I do much lament your misfortune, and am so sorry that I should be the cause of it, as that your absence will much grieve me, and I shall heartily wish and long for your return.  
This is much Madam, (said I unto her in a most respectful manner) but it is not enough to preserve the life of a man who must be an age from you. I know not (said she) whether this which I say unto you be enough for you, but I am persuaded Thimocrates, that it is a little too much for me, yet I do not repent of what I said, (said she smiling) but if you please I will repeat it again. Not to trouble you with any repetitions of what you said already Madam, (said I unto her) I beseech you speak something more than yet you have. What would you have me say? (said she.) I desire (replied I) that my adored Telesile will assure me, that my absence shall not root me out of her heart, and that neither Menecrates, or any other of my Rivals, shall supplant me, and take possession of it. I promise you, replied she, to satisfy you in your first scruple, and permit you to hope that none of the rest shall prejudice you, without any fears of being deceived: For indeed Thimocrates, I have so bad an opinion of all men, that I wonder how you come to be so much in my opinion: You lo●den me with honours and delight (said I unto her) but Madam, notwithstanding all these sweet and gracious favours you are pleased to consent unto, I am afraid of your virtue, I fear that when Diophantes moves you to marry Menecrates, I fear, I say, that absent▪ Thimocrates has no such prevalency in your heart, as to hinder your obedience. Thimocrates, said she then unto me, me thinks you may be very well contented with what I have already said, without forcing me as you do to give a more rigid answer. Ah Madam, (said I unto her being extremely transported with sorrow) I understand you too well, I see you will not choose Menecrates, but you will accept of him if it be the pleasure of Diophantes. If he will absolutely have it so, replied she, doubtless I shall obey him. Since it is so, said I unto her, I need not think any more of my departure from Delphos: But I will stay, Madam, I am resolved upon it, and say what you will unto me, I will never leave you in such a cruel incertainty: But Thimocrates, said she, you have lost your reason in speaking as you do. But inhuman Telesile, replied I, you have lost your goodness in answering me as you do. For what would you have that man who infinitely adores you, do? who when he is gone, leaves you in a mind to marry him, whom of all the rest of my Rivals, Diophantes intends to propose unto you? from whence can I have any consolation, cruel Lady, during so long and rigid an absence? Can I ever contemplate your beauty? without thinking, that perhaps it is the felicity of Menecrates, not mine, to enjoy it? Can I with any delight remember that sweetness which has several times proceeded from you, since I am in fears that you will be eternally severe unto me? Can I with any satisfaction think upon these favourable words which I hear, when I do imagine, that perhaps I shall never hear any more? Indeed Madam, is it possible I should live at a distance from you, in such uncertainties? No, no, indeed I cannot; and I had much rather die before your eyes, and by the hands of mine enemies, then to go upon any such terms. But Thimocrates, said she unto me, what is it which you desire? I do not desire Madam, said I unto her, that you should promise the unfortunate Thimocrates to marry him: I only desire, that you would assure him not to marry either Menecrates, nor any else during my absence. You insist upon good security (said she unto him smiling, notwithstanding the melancholy of her eyes;) But yet Thimocrates, all that I can say unto you is, that I will endeavour as far as any handsomeness will permit me, to break off my father's designs in marrying me unto you; but to promise you that I will so far dishonour myself as openly to disobey my father, is a thing which I cannot do: and perhaps (said she almost against her intentions) if you shall render yourself worthy of it by your obedience, I shall do more than I will promise you; but indeed Thimocrates, (said this virtuous Lady) we must not merit our misfortunes through our own imbecilites, nor trust too much unto humane prudence, but leave something unto the conduct of the Gods, who in spire of all our endeavours will bring us unto that pass they would have us: I do confess that considering the manner wherein Telesile expressed herself, I had good reason to be contented, although I was not; but I did so violently press her father, that she was ready to leave me in an anger, seeing I would not depart, unless she promised me all that I desired: She than called Melesander to her relief, and his Cousin also, who just then returned unto us; and do what I could, it was not possible for me to obtain any further from her: Then she did command me so peremptorily to depart as soon as I could, that at last I resolved upon it: Melesander put me into some hopes, that as soon as I was gone they would endeavour to procure a revocation of the Sentence: but for all that, I was so dismally desperate at my departure, that I was not capable of any consolation. Mean time Telesile left me, before I could speak one word more unto her, for when I perceived by her actions that she intended to be gone, my reason left me, and I neither knew what she said unto me, nor what I myself did; I knew only that she held out her hand unto me, which I in all humility and respect did kiss, and then she immediately vanished out of sight; so that being in no hopes to see Telesile any more, I thought upon nothing but my departure, I had a good mind first to fight with Menecrates, but Melesander dissuaded me, saying, that since Telesile had so many lovers, it would be an everlasting fatal piece of work to kill them all. In conclusion, within two days after this interview, I departed with Leontides, who is here at this present, whom the King of Cyprus had then sent unto Delphos; & who returned at that time: Since all Countries where Telesile was not, were indifferent unto me, I followed Leontides, and resolved to wander through all the Islands of the Aegian Sea, as I did, until the King of Cyprus & the Prince Philoxipeses, did me the honour to give me the Command of their Troops with Philocles: you may very well imagine then, that this last absence was infinitely horrid unto me, because it was to be a long one, Menecrates, as I understood, and an hundred other fresh servants since I came from Delphos, are continually courting Telesile; Diophantes perpetually moves her to make choice of an husband: Menecrates is a most complete man: my enemies are continually more and more hot against me: and all my Rivals solicit secretly, to prevent any revocation of my sentence; for reports went that I only was the cause which moved Telesile to deny them in their suits: so that I have no foundation to ground any certainties upon; although Telesile be not yet married, yet I know not what she may do, since she only afforded me some hopes: and therefore I have great reason to fear, that either her weakness or her virtue will render me most miserable, either by her obedience unto her father, or by suffering herself to be won by Menecrates: See hear, O my most equitable Judge, what experience I have had of all those horrid rigours in being absent from the party loved: and it will be no difficulty to make it appear unto you, by reason as well as by example, that absence is such an evil as incomprehends all the rest▪ Indeed, as love has its beginning by sight, and is continually kept alive by the same, so it must necessarily follow, that absence is that which is most opposite unto it. And as nothing is more delightful than the sight of her one loves, so nothing is more cruel than not to see her; short absences augment love, but long ones turn it into fury and despair: when a determinate time is limited, than impatiency until that time is expired will admit of no rest: and when there is no certainty how long the absence shall continue; melancholy does damp all the sweets of any hope: and indeed, whether it be long, or short, terminate, or without limits, I am most confident that whosoever knows how to love, they are most insupportable unto him, and will maintain, that absence comprehends all other evils, and is most sensible of all manner of sorrows. He who does maintain that not to be loved, is the greatest torment of love, is much in the wron●, and cannot compare his sufferings unto mine: since to speak of things in general, he who finds a scorn upon all his services, aught to use the like scorn as a remedy for it, and by a generous resentment may cure himself of his unaccepted passion: But a lover who is loved, and absent from her he loves, he can do nothing else but suffer; for to think that remembrance of past favours is sweet, is an error: in love when one is absent, since sorrow is all the felicity he can enjoy as long as he is absent. He who mourns for the death of his Mistress is doubtless worthy of compassion: but yet there is a notable difference betwixt him, and a lover that is absent: The greatest evil in death is only the absence of the beloved object, and I dare boldly say, that after the first great blow has wrought its first effect, the soul finding itself in a condition of neither any hopes or fears, does by little and little return unto itself again, and will be in such a calm as shall insensibly appease all the tumults of his passion, and sweaten those bitter sorrows which at first he endured: But absence, when hopes, and fears, and all other passions, are tumultuously active, is a punishment which every day augments itself, and can find no remedy, but it's own end, or the end of him that endures it: yet perhaps it will be objected, That jealousy has an horror above absence: But I answer by way of Question unto those that say so, Who is he that ever was long absent but he was jealous also? and what effects can jealousy produce, which absence does not the like? yet notwithstanding this difference may be put between them, that a jealous man who sees his Mistress, enjoys some happy minutes which he who sees her not cannot obtain: and also there is a great distinction to be made, between a sorrow which bottomed only upon a phantacie, and a sorrow which reason does uphold and authorise. A jealous man who is with his Mistress, although he be unfortunate, yet doubtless has some pleasing minutes, either in crossing the designs of his Rival, or contemplating upon revenge, or in discovery of some intricate business which he desires to know; and although these delights are not full of tranquillity, yet they are delights: but an absent Lover is so extremely miserable, that he cannot find a delectation in any thing; and therefore O my equitable Judge, since I have had such experimental trials of all the miseries in absence, and am the most unfortunate of all Lovers, I deserve the greatest share in your compassion.  
Thimocrates had no sooner ended, but Martesia turned towards Cyrus, and asked him what he thought of his Story and Reasons: and Cyrus answering as he thought. In truth, (said he sighing) you were unjust if you should deny Thimocrates that compassion which he demands; for his discourse has so sensibly moved me, that I know not how to express myself. Sir (answered she unto him) Thimocrates obtains from me what he desires, for I could never know a gallant man miserable, but I did sensibly interest myself in his sorrows. Bestow not all your compassion upon him, I beseech you, (said Philocles) but reserve a share for me. For my part (said the Prince Artibies) I must only desire to be lamented, since my misfortune is so great, that whosoever knows it must needs do so much for me. I know not, (said Leontidas) whether I shall lament or no: but I am sure there is no comparisons betwixt the miseries which I endure, and those which Thimocrates complains of. You must give me leave to make a doubt of that, replied the absent Lover. Before any judgement can be given (said Erenice) we must understand all your misfortunes. And to understand them (said Aglatidas) we must give over discourse, and hearken unto them. 'Tis true, replied Martesia, but since Thimocrates spoke the first concerning Philocles, who maintains that not to be loved, is the greatest misery in love, and afterwards he answered unto what the Prince Artibies said, who thinks the most severe punishment of his passion to be the death of her he loves; and since he named Leontidas the last, who thinks jealousy the greatest torture of all; I think Sir, said she, and looked upon Cyrus, that it is not amiss to follow that order, and that Philocles speak the first, of these three which remain: Cyrus approving of her opinion, and Philocles sitting over against Martesia, who was to be Judge, he began thus.   

The second History of the Lover not loved.  
SInce you do know the Conclusion of my Adventure, before I acquaint you with the beginning, or the Sequel; and since by consequence, that pleasing suspension which makes a disastrous Story hearkened unto with delight, is not to be found in my Story. I therefore conceive it fit not to abuse your patience with any long Relation: I will only acquaint you, that although I was born a Subject unto the King of Cyprus, yet my family was originally from Corinth, and that I had honour to be allied unto the wise Periander, who at this day is their Sovereign. I had no sooner attained my sixteenth year, but my father sent me unto that Court, unto an Uncle I had there, and under the tuition of a Governor, with intentions I should remain there; for since he had then many children, he was very desirous to keep up his name in his ancient Country, which was then ready to extinguish, there being none of that name left but only my Uncle, who was very old; I will not go about to describe famous Corinth unto you; for I speak before so many understanding Auditors, who are so well informed of every thing which is worthy of knowledge, that it would be in vain for me to discourse of the beauty, magnificence, and splendour of it: There are none here I am sure which hath not heard of that famous Isthmos, which is so well known unto all the world: and of that stately Castle which commands that goodly Town, and defends it: also of that great and convenient Port, which do infinitlely adorn it, and of the huge Commerce which continually does fill it, making it superfluously rich in all abundance of delights, and whatsoever can be imagined to render a place delectible, is to be found there: The Prince who governs it is a man of a most high soul, the Queen his wife, called Melissa, is also admirable fair, and has a daughter, who without all contradiction is the fairest, and most accomplished Lady in the world. This was the State of the House Royal when I came to Corinth; Periander also had a Son, but he was at Epidaurus with his Grandfather by the mother's side, who was Prince there: so that all Court divertisements did flow from Melissa, and the Princess Cleobuline her daughter: and I must needs say, that if there were any disposition in me to goodness, I was in such a place as I must needs advantage myself: For the Court of Periander was always full of the greatest men in all Greece, and it was his Generosity to honour strangers so much, that his Palace was continually full of men of several Country's: But since I was not yet arrived unto such an age, as required the conversation of the wisest, and most knowing men; I betook myself rather unto such things as might divert me, then unto such as might instruct me. The famous Arion, whose melodicus voice, tuned to the ravishing Airs of his warbling Harp, which made him so famous throughout the world, was both my Master, and my friend: my inclination was so intent upon music; that in lieu of making it my diversion, it was almost my profession: and indeed my Governor would sometimes chide me for being too serious upon it only, though in itself it was a commendable quality. I than began to participate of other divertisements, and the famous Thespis being come unto Corinth, I was charmed with his Posies, and witty Comedies. So that as I had learned to sing a little with Arion, I became a Poet with Thespis, there being a Genius in me which prompt me unto it: Pictures also moved my disposition that I practised to limb, and without being excellent in any thing, I did almost know every thing. Thus did I recreate myself until it pleased love did disturb my delights, by the very same thing in which I so long time delighted: and see how the misfortune came to pass. Cleobulus one of the wise men of Greece, and Prince of Lindus, sent unto Periander concerning some important Affair: but his Agent dying at Corinth, I was made choice of to go unto Cleobulus, (for I had now attained unto twenty years of age,) and since this Prince had one daughter called Eumetes, whom the people called Clobuline, after her father, though her name was not so, and since it was the same with the Illustrious Daughter of Periander, I confess that I was much pleased with the voyage, and because I had a great desire to be known unto the Princess of Lindus, of whom I had heard spoken so much, both of virtue, and spirit, and since I had no business at Corinth, I was very glad to depart: and since the Princess Cleobuline did esteem me much above my deserts, and held a great correspondency with that excellent Lady unto whom I went, by reason of their sutableness in their spirits and humour, she did me the honour to send a Letter unto her by me, to the end I might be the more acceptable unto her; and since this flattering and obliging Letter was the cause of my love; And I have so perfectly remembered it, that I believe I shall not alter a word in relating it unto you: though I must needs blush in telling it, to make you the better understand the beginning of my passion: And thus it was.  
The Princess CLEOBULINE, unto the Princess EUMETIS.  
WHat share soever I shall participate in that joy, which Philocles goes to receive inseting you, and in that happiness which his acquaintance will bring unto you; I know very well that I am neither friend nor Cousin to prefer the interest of another before my own, since I cannot (me thinks) sufficiently rejoice at the delight you will take (in the person of Philocles) to know all that is admirable in Corinth, and that he will find in you all that is illustrious in Greece: This petty Jealousy moves me to tell you that which his modesty will questionless conceal: how that besides those essential qualities, which of themselves are enough to make a most complete man, he is one of A●poles best Disciples, and greatest FAvourite of the Muses, especially of those Muses which are your friends: Move him therefore to impart those qualities, which he uses to bide from all but such as are like you: Make him show you his Verses, his Pictures, and his Airs, all of his own composing: I have charged him to bring me back a Character both of your mind, and face; and if you please, let him not steal it against your will, but afford him such convenient time, as he may worthily acquit himself of his Commission which he has received from me: make an exchange with him, some of his Verses, for some of your ingenious Riddles, which you have composed, and which troubles all them that would unfold them. But after all this, remember that I do but lend, not give, this Treasure unto you: Send him therefore generously back, and do not ruin Corinth by retaining Philocles with you, Since I have discoursed that which perhaps he would have concealed: Tell me at his return what progress he hath made in your opinion of him: what ingenious Pieces he has written of you, and how many Conquests he has made amongst your Ladies; for I know him too modest to tell any thing advantageously concerning himself, and too judicious to talk of any thing but you at his return: I could tell you much more concerning him, I will leave it unto you to discover some virtues of his soul, which are more excellent than his wit: After all this, be pleased to consider him as my kinsman, and that you have promised to esteem every thing that is dear unto me: And lastly know that I am your  
CLEOBULINE.  
This Letter so full of flattery being written, the Princess as I came to take my leave of her, told me with as much Gallantry, as Civility, that she had engaged me deeply in many things by her Letter unto the Illustrious Eumetis, but that she was not sorry for it, since she knew I would not pass for one of a prejudicated opinion. Madam, said I unto her, what you tell me makes me afraid, lest intending to favour me, you ruin me. See, said she unto me, showing me her Letter wh●ch was yet unsealed, whether you will not gallantly perform what I have promised in your behalf. I would then have excused myself, and not have seen it; yet since she absolutely commanded me, I obeyed her: But as soon as I had read seven or eight lines I blushed for very shame; and not daring to read any further, Oh Madam, said I unto her, what have you done? and what have I done, that you should in such an ingenious manner do me so bad an office? No no, Madam, (said I, and would have given it back unto her,) I must not carry that which would dishonour me. Yet you may see it at the least, (said she laughing) though it be only to teach you what you ought to do, if you do not agree that can do as I say; and since I refused, she took the Letter, and read it aloud: I confess I was so confounded at it, that I could not choose but interrupt her; and although praises be sweet especially unto young men, yet I was extremely fearful, I could not be able by my presence to make good what the Princess Cleobuline had said of me: But since I did absolutely refuse it, she made use of her absolute Authority to make me take it, and after her Commands to seal it; I must take it, and promise her to deliver it, although I knew it might much prejudice me, since certainly all excessive commendations in new acquaintances is very dangerous, especially unto persons the most accomplished, although it be not an easy matter to resist flattery: So, not well knowing what I should do with this Letter, I took it, and departed with a man of good quality, called Antigenes; of the same age with myself, who intended the same voyage, and certainly he was as pleasant company as any in Corinth: we were at that time two intimate friends; we were of the same height, of the same garb, and loved the very same things, and he had a Genius as well as I unto Poetry, Limming, and Music: If the Princess Cleobuline had known of his journey, doubtless she would have mentioned him in her Letter, for she highly esteemed him; but he concealed his intentions from all the world, not desiring that his father should know whither he went, fearing some considerations of his family should obstruct his curiosity: But Antigenes and I embarked together, and arrived at Jalissa, a Town where the Prince Cleobulas did commonly reside. I presented the Packet which I brought from Periander; I rendered him an account of the business between them, and I presented Antigenes unto him, who received him very nobly, and whose name he knew; but so it happened that the Princess his daughter was in the Country, two day's journey from thence, recreating herself in the company of several Ladies, and intending to continue her divertisements for some certain days yet longer. I desired then to take hold of that opportunity, and making it therefore known unto Cleobulas, that I had a Letter unto the Princess Eumetis, and that I was very glad, I durst not offer to depart from him, and carry it unto her: he returned me an answer according to my desires, that it were not just he should deprive his daughter of so much happiness as to receive news from a Princess whom she honoured so much, and that he would not deprive himself (as he said most civilly) of the delight he took in my company by permitting m● to go unto her: and therefore he ordered one to take the Letter from my hand, and to give it unto her; and also by the same Messenger he appointed the Princess his daughter to return, being desirous that I should see his Court in all its glory, for he had been a Widower many years. Thus was the business ordered; one came and took the Letter which I had for the Princess, and so she received it by another hand, and not mine: commanding him who carried it, to let her know that I presented it in that manner unto her, by the Command of the Prince her Father. Mean while be pleased to know, that there was a Corinthian Family of men in high repute which dwelled there, the prime man of which house was called Alasis, who had one daughter, whose name was Philista, who the Princess of Lindus had carried with her. This Lady was indeed a most admirable beauty, not that the figure of her face was so regularly composed, but she was young, flaxen haired, fair, of an handsome height, and good garb; she was, as I said before, a most admirable and surprising beauty: she had a transcenden▪ mind, and her wit was very agreeable unto all company: she then being with Eumetis, when this Letter was presented, after she had read it, she turned towards Philesta, and showing it unto her, See, said she unto her, what the Princess Cleobuline says concerning one of her Cousins.  
Philista having read the letter, In truth Madam, said she unto her, if Philocles be as the Princess Cleobuline has described him, she has good reason to call him a Treasure, and to desire his return quickly. True, said she, but the sooner to restore him unto her, the fair Philista, must cloud some part of her charms, as it is likely she will, if it be true that resemblance is a cause of love: your discourse Madam (answered Philista) is very obliging and full of flattery: but it is not altogether ill grounded: for if Philocles have as great a desire to see me, as I have to know, it would be a great step unto love, and I do assure you, that if you do not return speedily unto Alissa, my curiosity to see him will much disquiet me, and indeed (said she laughing, for she was of a gay and jocund humour) if he resemble his picture, according to the description of him, he is such a man as I could wish either in the way of a suitable friend, or an accomplished gallant; or an agreeable husband: and questionless, replied the Princess, Philista has all the accomplishments requisite to conquer the heart of as gallant a man as Philocles seems to be, by the relation of the Corinthian Princess: Yet, replied she unto her, it would not be an act of Justice, since he came hither free, to make him return a Captive: and therefore I have a kind of desire not to obey the Prince my Father, who has commanded me to return to morrow: Oh Madam (said Philista then) I beseech you, not drive me into despair; for I am certain that I shall not stay with you, if you do not return, so high is my impatience to be acquainted with such a man as this. Thus did these two Ladies divert themselves, in discoursing of me, as the Princess of Lindus did tell me afterwards. But to keep myself within the limits which I prescribed at the beginning of my discourse, I shall only tell you, how that same day, and the next following, I was the subject of Philista's mirth, who talked of nothing but me, and my name was up continually amongst them, as long as their journey lasted. The woman which waited upon the Princess waged war with Philista about me, and all of them had so great a longing to see me, that I verily believe, if I had known of the passages, I should have returned unto Corinth before I saw the Princess of Lindus; at the last she came to Alissa, but it was so very late, by reason of some accident which befell the Coach, that coming first unto Philista's lodging, she would not be set down at it, do what the Princess could, but continued the contest concerning me; Philista, said she unto her at parting, remember that I have entreated you, to hide half your attracting charms tomorrow when you come unto the Palace; then, without giving Philista any time to reply, the Coach went on, and Eumetis went unto the Prince her Father in his closet, whether he was retired, so that I was not then with him, but it was the next day before Antigenes and I had the honour to salute her: But the greatest wonder was, that when the Prince Cleobulus, did us the grace to present us unto her the next morning as she was going unto the Temple, and as she passed through a Garden where we were with the Prince her Father, she found such a similitude, and so much conformity between Antigenes and me, that not yet knowing our names very perfectly, she doubted which of us two was he, of whom the Princess Cleobuline spoke in her Letter: So that addressing herself unto us with a compliment which obliged us both, she asked me, whether I was he of whom the Princess Cleobuline had spoke unto her in her Letter; Yes Madam (said I unto her) I believe it is, for she knew not that Antigenes was to come thither; then did she redouble her civilities; and Antigenes making it known by his garb, that he was not one of a mean quality, we both waited upon her unto the Temple: and in the afternoon we went unto her, and she talked a long time of the Princess Cleobuline, with all testimonies of esteem and amity possible: she asked me whether she was not the most perfect beauty in the world? she enquired of her recreations, and of her employments, and she was pleased to be so civil, as to tell me, whilst Antigenes was in discourse with other Ladies, that now she began to know me, and that she was much puzzled before, to distinguish which of us two Antigenes or I, was Philocles. But said she unto me, to punish myself for this fault I would have him go and visit a fair Corinthian we have here amongst us, and try whether she can distinguish you, before she be informed: if she can, I shall then confess I deserve punishment for my error; if not, I shall at least be comforted. I answered unto this, according unto my duty, but she not hearing me, sent to know how Philista did, and why she came not thither that day: he who had this order, having done his message returned, and told her in a low voice, yet not so low but any might well understand him, that Philista did most humbly thank her for that favour, and that if she had not found herself something ill, she would have honoured herself and waited upon her, but since her glass had that morning persuaded her she was not in a condition to make any conquest, she would therefore try if she could strengthen herself by sleep: The Princess laughing at the answer: certainly (said she, speaking unto a Lady named Stesilea who was next her) Philista is of a mast admirable wit: and in a low voice she told me what her answer was, and what was the cause of it. It is requisite Madam, said Stesilea unto her, that you honour her so far as to go and visit her, and to surprise her the more, to carry with you these two strangers. The Princess who thought upon nothing but how to divert her, and knew not that there was any envy between Stelesia, and Philista, (which made her desire she might be seen in her careless dress) consented unto the motion, and they carried Antigenes and myself unto this fair Corinthian. But first she spoke much good unto us of her, and we were no less desirous to see her, than she was to see us. As for Antigenes she had never so much as heard him named since he came unto Ilissa, nor had ever seen him, for as I said before, she was not born at Carinth, though her Father was, but she was born at Ilissa: We followed then, the Coach in which the Princess was, in another; and when we came to the gate, she gave her hand unto Antigenes, the more to deceive her, and obliging me to lead Stesilea, and follow her, we found Philista in a dress as if she had been ill indeed, though her complexion and eyes spoke her to be in perfect health: This fair Lady was alone in her chamber, in setting forth her Jewels, as if she intent that night or the next day to go unto some Ball: What Philista (said the Princess unto her) I thought to have found you in bed, and I find you ready to go unto some public Feast? Pardon me Madam, (said she unto her smiling) you rather find me preparing myself for a war, for you know very well, (said she unto her in a low voice,) and showing her all her Diamonds, and Pearls which were upon the Table) that these are the arms which those who have no beauty, must trust unto, upon any important occasion: And behold a good on, (said the Princess, answering her alone) for I have brought you two in Lieu of one Philocles; in saying so, she caused Antigenes and me to advance together. But Philista wondering, Madam, said she, that is not possible, since I have much a do to believe one such can be found in all the world: No no, (said the Princess, who had forbidden us to let Philista know which was the true Philocles) I must not be so satisfied; I will see whether you who was so much taken with the description; can know which is the substance: and therefore I will give you two hours' time to find out which of these two illustrious strangers, do most resemble the Character which the Princess Cleobuline gave in her Letter to me: you are as well acquainted with the description as I am, and therefore you cannot fail in your Judgement. But Madam, answered Philista, you which would have me find him out, did you do it yourself? you shall know that afterwards, replied she, and then sitting between Philista's bed and the fire, she would needs have this beauty placed between Antigenes and myself: I do confess, that this Lady did at the first inchant me both with the splendour of her beauty, and by her discourse: I already knew, that she desired to see me, and the message which she had sent did flatter me, and dispose my heart to desire very earnestly that she would not take Antigenes for me: and it seems also that Antigenes desired to be mistaken, for whom he was not, and we were both of us so mute upon the matter, that to speak truly we did neither of us resemble that Philocles in Cleobulines Letter: But yet (said the Princess then) what think you Philista? which of these two take you to be the man, so accomplished, and universally knowing in all delectable things, and for whose acquaintance your curiosity did so trouble you? Do you think Madam, replied she, that I dare name him after you? and why would you have me procure an enemy of him, I name not? You do not well consider what you say (replied the Princess) for if you name neither you will offend them both, and the other way you will offend but one. For my part (said Antegines with a troubled spirit) I am certain, that though you should not name me, yet I should not be your enemy: for though I be Philocles, yet I am sure I am not such a one as is Carracterized in the Princess of Corinth's Letter, and if I be not Philocles, I should be very injurious to complain, not to be taken for another: No no, said the Princess, I will not suffer you to speak any more, you shall not help Philista to know you, for she has such a discerning wit as vaunts to discover the most close thoughts of a heart: she has seen you, and she has heard you speak, there needs no more: Answer me (said she unto her, by pointing with her hand, which is Philocles; I do not know Madam (said Philista unto her with a most pleasing melancholy) which is the true Philocles, but I know well (said she and turned from me towards Antigenes) whom I wish were he. You do well to wish (replied the Princess ravished that she could not guests right) since you cannot really make him so; and all that he can be for your satisfaction is, that indeed he is worthy to be so: I wish the God's Madam, replied Antigenes with extreme joy, that what you say were true: and I wish the Gods, replied Philocles very sadly, that I were not Philocles, but in the room of Antigenes: never was seen such a medley of opinions as was in every one in the company: The Princess of Lindus was glad that Philista, had not guessed right, and by cohsequence was sorry to perceive some melancholy in my eyes: Philista, she was vexed that the name of Antigenes was not Philocles, and that she might be twited for being mistaken. Stesilea was very well satisfied that Philista was in the wrong. Antigenes was ravished with joy, though in respect of me, he would not express it: but for my part I was all confusion and anger: in the mean while these two last named passions, which do not use to contribute any thing to the causes of love, did yet quicken that passion in me: I did not at the first intent to let Philista know, that I was not altogether unworthy to be Philocles, but only in point of honour: yet the truth is, that was too tender a reason to restrain me. Fair Philista (said I unto her with a serious look) you are only mistaken in the name, since most certainly, Antigenes is owner of all those qualities mentioned to be in that Philocles, in the Princess of Corinth's Letter.  
Antigenes, replied my friend, who was now become my Rival, is not so much obliged unto this fair Lady, as you imagine: Why so, replied the Princess? The reason is Madam, replied he, because she does not positively say, that she thinks me to be Philocles, she is only pleased to wish I were so. That seems unto me the ●more obliging (said Stesilea) for if she had only said, she thought you to be him, it had been barely a mark of her esteem; but since she bestows an advantageous wish upon you, it is an evident sign of her inclination towards him. You need not take so much pains (said Philista, smiling) as to interpret my thoughts inimy presence; for if any do make any doubt of them, I shall myself expound them. No Madam, said I unto her, I beseech you interpret them no further, lest Antigenes die for joy, and I for sorrow; if you should express more marks of your inclination to him, and if I should perceive any further aversion in you towards the true Philocles. Philista, hearing me say so, would have expressed herself unto me in some civil language, thereby to make her peace with me: but the more she desired to speak, the more she was gravelled. For seeing how much she had already obliged Antigenes, she had no mind to disengage him, so that since she could not handsomely deliver herself, nor keep within that just mediocrity she endeavoured, the Princess and Stesilea laughed, and were exceedingly delighted in observing her disorder: and she perceiving it. I see Madam, said she unto her, that you jeer me, because I would engage two in lieu of one. But yet be pleased to know (said she very angrily) that though Antigenes is not Philocles unto all the rest of the world, yet he shall be so unto Philista. And I am very much deceived, if (though he should not have al●those qualities which the Princess of Corinth's Letter does attribute unto the right Philocles) my conversation with him, do not in a little time infuse them all into him. I stand in great need of it then Madam, (said Antigenes unto her,) and that it is the greatest honour I can pretend unto; You are already so close, said I unto him, that I shall hardly know you any longer. But not to abuse your patience any longer, thus did that day pass away, and after we had waited upon the Princess unto her Chamber, Antigenes and I went into ours, for they joined close together, but both of us retired, and not a word passed betwixt us at parting: and afterwards he coming into my Chamber, and silently sitting down: Doubtless, Antigenes, said I unto him, you are musing upon your own honour. I am thinking, said he, what I shall do to support that great Name which the fair Philista has bestowed upon me. And do not you, (said he unto me laughing) pity me, to see me thus charged, and will not you infuse some of your excellent qualities into me, that I may thereby save the honour of Philista? Philista, said I unto him, does know your merits so well, and perhaps has made a Conquest upon your heart, that I know not why I should pity you: and Philocles stands more in need of the help of Antigenes, than Antigenes of his: I would by this discourse have moved my friend to have discovered his thoughts unto me, but he would not: so that I making him my example, I spoke no more unto him concerning Philista. In the mean time, I beseech you take notice, and admire at the fantastical honour of my fate.  
As Philista was a Lady of honour, and a little humourish, she was so vexed to be so mistaken, that she did really entertain an aversion to me, and resolved to set such a value upon the qualities of Antigenes, that if he had been one of her ancientest friends, she could not more deeply interest herself in his honour than she did: and I believe also that her own natural inclination did bias that way. That which was the greatest cause of her spite, was, that when she turned towards Antigenes, and named him, she was verily persuaded out of her subtlety that it was Philocles, and therefore she did confidently fix upon him: for since she understood I did sing well; she set herself to observe both our voices as we spoke, and finding that the tone of Antigenes was more sweet than mine, she thought he had been Philocles, though what both of us spoke were the very same words: yet for all this, I did oftentimes applaud this beauty; and since all the Court was acquainted with this accident, every one did contend against her, which did so much exasperate her fantastical Resolution, that she could not endure to hear any speak well of me; not but that she made a show, as if what she did was only out of her Gallantry; but the truth is, I am fully persuaded that from the very first time of seeing us, her Genius was averse towards me, and inclinable towards Antigenes. Observe now, how we employed ourselves, he endeavouring to answer the Princesses of Corinth's Character of Philocles, better than myself, and I also to show that I was not absolutely unworthy of her applauds. Then, it is most certain, that the Princess of Lindus, either in respect of the Princess Cleobuline, or my good fortune, did me the honour to take my part: and all the Court after her example, did put some difference between Philocles and Antigenes, and the fair Philista did put as great a difference between Antigenes and Philocles; for in any company, or in walking, or at Bills, I found that Lady who of all the world did best please me, and my fancy, every day doing a thousand things with intention to displease me, and yet whether I would or no, I was pleased: Whether I would or no, I say; for certainly, I did all I could not to love her, but all in vain, and impossible; for there was such of I know not what kind of gallant and pleasant Air in her, which I could not resist: so that from the first minute of my passion I was most unfortunate, and much more than they who are made so by an hundred thousand accidents which may chance in love: since certainly, a natural antipathy and aversion cannot possibly be overcome by any wisdom, whatsoever cruelty is qualified by teers; fury is allayed by submission, an imperious mind is mitigated by obedience; an inconstant person recollects himself sometimes by ●the example of an unparalled constancy; in all these cares there are some remedeis to be found: but all the humane wisdom upon earth knows not how to vanquish a natural antipathy, since it is the thing will changes all objects, as well as jealousy. In the mean while I could not find so much consolation as to complain against Philista: for, argued I with myself, what would I have her do? for her opinion is rooted in her heart with her consent unto it, nor did her reason contribute any thing unto her aversion: and since there are some men who do hate Roses, which almost all men love; Why should I blame Philista for her secret hatred of me? by this argument would I have dissuaded myself from loving Philista: but the business came unto that height, that though Philista would not be uncivil, yet she could not dissemble, but her inclination to Antigenes, and aversion unto me was apparent: when he spoke any thing, she applauded it to the skies; if I spoke never so well, I was puffed at: if at any meeting, she danced with Antigenes, it was with such an air, as made it apparent that she was taken out by a hand that pleased her: she carried herself with a finer grace, her eyes were more sprightly and gay, she danced more lightly, and with a more swimming behaviour: she would then attract the looks of all the company, and delight all the company as much as she dulled me: but on the contrary, when I did take her out sometimes against her mind, she seemed as if she were not the same person: and I believe were it not that Antigenes would have seen her dance ill, she would not have so much as minded the Tune, so negligent and careless was her action; and that so apparent, that the Princess did tell her of it. Philista (said she unto her) I once entreated you to hide half of your charms from Philocles, but I intended not that you should show him all your incivilities; and me thinks you would not do ill, if you did a little more equally impart your favours. But Madam, (answered she, and laughed) did not you tell me, that it would be unjust that Philocles should return a Captain unto Corinth? Yes replied the Princess, but I would not have him go from Allissa discontented, therefore if you love Philista, be not so partial in your civilities. Philista blushed at this discourse, for she understood her well enough that the Princess did accuse her of too much complacency with Antigenes, yet seeming to take no notice of it, she told her that she would correct herself for it; and indeed I found her for a while much more civil; and since I was ignorant of the Princess her discourse unto her, I was infinitely joyed at the alteration; and Antigenes who was no less in love with Philista, than I was seemed to be sensibly displeased at it. As he had several opportunities of speaking with her, so had he several private discourses also, wherein, as I believe, he acquainted her with part of his thoughts. But as for me, it was a thing impossible to do so.  
Whilst this happy interval, wherein she was grown more complacential continued: I met with a fit opportunity to speak with her, as she was walking, and I resolved to close with that blessed time; so that upon the first occasion which she gave me, to alter our general discourse into more particular. Is it possible (said I unto her) fair Philista) that you should not oppose this good fortune which I now enjoy? Can you at the last resolve to know Philocles to be the same he is, that he is, (said I, without giving her time to answer) the most faithful and passionate of all your Servants. Ha Philocles, said she, I know you better by the Princess of Corinth's Letter, than I do by your discourse. That Character of me whereof you speak, Madam, (said I unto her) was full of flattery, and I do not think it strange, you should not believe it was made for me, but my discourse, Madam, is most sincere, and true. I should be very angry it should, (said she interrupting me) both in respect of your interest, and my own. Why then you must, (said I unto her) for it is not more true, that you are the fairest Lady upon earth, than it is certain, that I am the most. Stop there, Philocles (said she) lost you force me to answer you more sharply; and know, I could not know you when I would, I will not know you when I could. You might have known me Madam, (said I unto her) in knowing yourself, since it is not possible you can be ignorant of the force which is in those inevitable charms of your beauty, your mind, your wit, and how they have charmed me every way unto your service. No Philocles, said she unto me, deceive not yourself, I never knew any thing, but what I had a desire to know: my eyes do never show me any thing but what pleaseth me, and my reason does sometimes comply with my desires, because they are not unjust, and also yield something unto my will. It would be more advantageous for me, (said I unto her coldly,) if your will did yield something unto your reason. What would you have me do? (said she, and laughed) and why do you not take the same counsel which you give me, since you have need of it? If my reason (said I unto her) should tell me that it were a crime to love you, I believe I should endeavour not to commit it. And though mine would persuade me, replied she, that Philocles were the most amiable man alive, yet Philista would not love him. By what way then is it possible to come unto your heart, said I unto her. I know not that myself, answered she, and if there be any blind parts, which may conduct any one unto it hereafter, it must be chance that makes him find it out. Since it is so, answered I, I am resolved to seek it all my life. But not find it for all that, (said she) therefore Philocles trouble yourself no further in it.  
I did intend to speak further unto her, but divers others came and joined with us, so that our discourse altered, and ever since she carefully avoided all manner of private conference with me. In the mean while Antigenes and I did live together, as it were by constraint, for we never discoursed but of things indifferent. The Name of Philista which was so dear unto us both, was never so much as pronounced amongst us when we were alone together. Antigenes observing that the civilities of Philista unto me, did not continue, his displeasure at it did vanish: so that seeing there was nothing to be feared from me, in lieu of hating me as his Rival, he pitied me as his friend, and resolved some time or other to speak sincerely unto me concerning it: and coming one morning unto my Chamber, he said unto me, that he thought himself the most unfortunate man in the world, because he imagined that I was in love with Philista, as well as he; and protested unto me, that if he had observed any inclination in her to love me, he would rather die then be any obstacle to my felicity: but since he saw her mind was so far from any advantageous thoughts of me, he thought he was not injurious unto me, 〈◊〉 falling in love with one whom I could not love before him, since we saw her both together the first time, and since the first minute of her sight was the first beginning of his passion: Indeed he spoke unto me with as much generosity as I Lover, who would not quit his Mistress, could do: and I answered him with as much discretion, as a desperate man, and one who had some virtue was capable of, speaking unto a Rival that was more happy than himself, and one who he esteemed as his friend: I confessed so ingeniously unto him, that I had no lawful cause to complain against him; but I told him further, that for all that it was impossible for me but to be infinitely angry at his good fortune; That it was but a piece of raillery to think that two Rivals could ever be true friends, and that all which generosity and prudence could do in such cases, was, to prevent them from being mortal enemies. Moreover, since I was too just to desire him to give over his design, so I desired him not to take it ill I continued mine, and told him, he might well enough agree unto so much liberty, since there was very small appearance it would any thing advantage me.  
In conclusion, after a long conference, we agreed to discourse no more together concerning Philista, but both of us to endeavour all we could to obtain her love: and that he who of us two could arrive at that honour, should move that fair Lady to pronounce a sentence of death against him she loved not. After this, Antigenes and I lived better together, and was as civil one to another as any men could be, who endeavoured all they could to ruin one another, since the Prince Cleobulus would retain me a long time with him, and since I had received new Orders from Periander, which would employ me longer there: I had the leisure to put in practice such expedients, as are usually advantageous in matters of love. I followed Philista whithersoever she went: I was perpetually in conference with her, I spoke of her eternally unto all my acquaintance, and I applauded no other beauty but hers, but was continually whensoever I had any occasion extolling her to the Heavens: I composed verses in her honour, which were better relished by all the Court then those of Antigenes, though perhaps his were more ingenious: I added music unto my poetry; I composed Airs as well as words, and sung them myself with all the art I had, so joining the charms of harmony unto my expressions, I sighed as I sang, and endeavoured to enchant her heart by her ears: I was at vast expenses in clothes, in Balls, in Collations, and Banquets, and in all manner of Liberalities; I got the friendship both of all her friends, and all her Lovers: Alasis her father loved me very well, a brother she had did not hate me; her women, and all her Domestics, were all won by my gifts; I spoke unto her with as much reverence as he who approaches unto the Gods, I expressed my passion both in Verse and Proes, my tears also did often plead in my behalf: The violence of my love did sometimes, whether I would or no, blow fury into my eyes, and despair into my discourse: I saw I was vexed, jealous, my face changed, and to say all in few words, the most miserable man in the world, yet I could not alter her heart from that stubborn ●version which she had towards me. I remember that one of her intimate friends, who afterwards became mine also, asked her one day, Whether it was possible she should not esteem me, since I had the good fortune to get some share in the esteem of all the world besides, she did then acknowledge unto him, that she knew very well I did not deserve those rigid treaments I received from her: yet for all that, she could not help it: and that since some men do fall in love, when they know no reason for it; so it was no wonder if there were some which hated, when they had no cause. But (said that friend unto her) those who love, as you say, do ordinarily resist against their passion. It is true, replied she, but it is only because that passion might move them unto some dishonourable actions. And do not you (replied her friend) act some unjust ones? No, answered Philista, for I am not bound to love all the gallant men which are in the world; but esteem myself very happy, that I have so good a remedy against so terrible an enemy. But (said this charitable Confident further unto her) why do you not defend yourself with the same Arms against Antigenes, which you use against Philocles, since you do only fight for your own liberty? Cruel friend (said she unto him) urge me not so far, I conjure you, and force me not to tell you that which I dare not think upon without a blush: Content yourself with this consideration only, that love and hatred are two tyrannical passions, which oftentimes do mock both at Reason and Prudence: all that I can say unto you, is, that I have not resisted that strong aversion which I have unto Philocles, because it can never do me any harm, and that I have much resisted against that sympathy and inclination I have towards Antigenes, because it may be prejudicial unto me.  
Thus did this conference pass, whilst we were every day with the Princess, unto whom all the Ladies resorted, but amongst the rest, Stesilea, who indeed was a very passable beauty, was most frequent: This Lady had a good wit, but such a jealous and envious mind, that she wished herself the only fair one in all the world: yet was my heart so altogether taken up with Philista, that I perceived not things most visible. So that I, not knowing she abhorred her Rival in beauty, did sometimes discourse with her: she was so crafty, and full of spirit, or at least, made many believe so, that indeed she suited herself with my humour: she began to dissuade me from my passion; afterwards to pity me, and complain of the incivilities of Philista towards me, and of her indulgence towards Antigenes, and carried the matter with so much art, that her company was more agreeable unto me, and requisite to comfort me: Then did I discover the bottom of my heart unto her, I laid open all my imbecility before her, and conjured her to become my friend, I asked her advice, I moved her to suffer me that I might relate all my misfortunes unto her, beseeching her to have some thoughts of pity towards me, since Philista had none: She harked to all this, as if she had been all goodness; she was much moved at my misery, and made me value her at so high a rate, that I esteemed her as a most sincere friend: I had not one jealous thought, but I imparted it unto her: as soon as Philista had looked upon me with any disrespect, or any roughness, I made my complaint unto Stesilea. So that since Philista did avoid all occasions of speaking with me, and since Stesilea on the contrary, gave me all possible freedom, all the Court in a short time did observe my secret conference with this Lady: and since they knew, there was a secret hatred between those two Ladies, they could not imagine I would choose the enemy of Philista for my Confident, but believed that I had altered my mind, and that the continuation of my addresses unto Philista were only to hide my new passion unto Stesilea the better, Antigenes was extremely joyed at it, and all the Court was glad I had cured one passion by another, Stesilea, when I was not with her, was joyed to see her design had so prosperous event: Philista only in point of honour which reflected not upon me, but, Stesilea, was moved with much spite: this fiery and inflexible spirit was not at all mollified towards me, but her design only was to make me hate Stesilea, it she could, by any kind of crabbed course she could invent.  
But to complete up the Sum of my misfortunes, since I could not be in any favour with her of whom I would be loved, I was loved by another unto whom I could grant no further than friendship: I must therefore tell you, that Stesilea did find something so noble, so pure, so great, and so virtuous in my passion unto Philista, that she desired that from me which I could give unto any but the other: so that transacting for her own interest, she gave me an hundred crafty counsels which I followed, because they seemed to be good, although they did much disadvantage me concerning Philista. This being the state of things, Antigenes came one morning unto my Chamber; and coming unto me with open Arms; My dear Philocles, said he unto me, what pleasure do you take in concealing your good fortune, and my own from me? Antigenes, said I unto him, not answering coldly unto such signs of tenderness as he expressed; If it be true that I am happy, I am afraid you would not be so glad. I protest unto you (said he unto me) that your contentment is as dear unto me, as my own: and I could not be more joyed if the fair Philista should love me, than I am, that you do not love her any longer. I love the fair Philista no longer, said I unto him all amazed. Ah Antigenes, do not deceive yourself, for that is so rooted a passion in me, that it and I must die together. But (replied he, more amazed than I) all the Court, and Philista herself, thinks you are in love with Stesilea. Does Philista (said I all surprised) think I am in love with Stesilea? Yes, answered he, and I, like all the world, believed it also: This discourse did so much astonish me, that I was never more troubled in all my life then at that time, fearing this might make worse for me in the opinion of Philista, and grieved that I must now be deprived of the consolation which I found in the society of Stesilea: so that without any longer conference with Antigenes, I parted from him, protesting, that I was never more in love with Stesilea then at that time, and that I would take such order as should undeceive the world in their opinion, that I was in love with Stesilea: yet since I was upon terms of friendship with that Lady, and thought myself obliged unto her, and had received consolation from her, therefore I conceived it not fit to change my course of familiarity with her, before I acquainted her with the reason. Going then unto her by a blind way, taking all heed that I should not be perceived, I found her alone in her Chamber only with two of her women: As soon as she saw me, she easily perceived, that there was some new cross accident in the wind. What's the matter Philocles? (said she unto me) Has Philista given you some fresh affront? Philista (said I unto her) has not much contributed unto the disaster whereof I now complain; but Stesilea against her will is a greater cause than she. She blushed at this discourse, I cannot easily guess (said she) what harm I can possible have done unto you, nor know I any but one remedy which I could wish, which is, to remove that passion out of your heart which torments you, though I know you will not think that which would cure you, to be a remedy. But Philocles, said she, leave me no longer in suspense, but tell me I beseech you, how I have contributed unto that sorrow which I see in your eyes. Your beauty, said I unto her, is the true cause of it. Philocles, said she smiling think well what you say unto Stesilea. I do so, said I unto her, for if she were not so fair as she is, all the Court would not report it that I am in love with her: Philista would not have thought it, and Antigenes would not have believed it: but because the truth is, her beauty is extreme, and because she cannot imagine why I should so frequently visit her, unless I give her my whole heart, therefore they do believe it: all the Court does esteem me happy in changing my chains: Antigenes rejoiceth, and Philista is angry, and this I have gotten by coming so often unto Stesilea. The truth is, things are brought into such a condition, that I am forced to deprive myself of the greatest comfort I have, which was, to be often with you. Why Philocles, (replied she in a great amaze) because fond rumours run you love me, will you therefore hate me? Heavens guard me, said I unto her, from a thought so unjust; for I shall esteem you as long as I live, and my friendship unto you shall be as constant as my love is unto Philista. But sweet Stesilea, since you are pleased to admit of my confidence only in relation to my own interest, I hope you will permit me to withdraw myself from seeing you upon the same reason, to the end I may undeceive Philista. The Gods do know, said I further, how difficult it is, to resolve upon such a design; and the Gods do know, (answered she with a sigh) you have no reason to take such a resolution. What then would you have me do? (said I unto her) for if Philista continue in a belief that I love you, she will never love me; and your beauty is so admirable, that as long as I continue my visits unto you, she cannot be convinced of the contrary, and therefore I beseech you, permit me amiable Stesilea, to deprive myself of the happiness in seeing you, especially since your interest is not concerned in it: for since it is not the pleasure of the Destinies that my heart can be yours, I would not contribute any thing unto the belief which the world assumes, whilst in the mean I am the most miserable man upon earth, who out of fear to displease her who loves me 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 forced to q●●t another, which hath given me so many Testimonies of her goodness, and who doubtless 〈◊〉 me for this last misfortune: Indeed I do (replied she blushing) and perhaps more than ●●ought. But I am to be lamented as well as you: for if it be so that the court believes you be in love with me, what strange tales will be told unto my disadvantage if you leave off your seeing me upon a sudden? will they not suppose that you have either fooled Stesilea, or that it is carried so out of subtlety? No no, Philocles, the alteration must not be so suddenly: or if you will needs have have it so, you must in regard of my honour, make it seem as if I treated you 〈◊〉: but if so, said I, I shall not justify myself in the opinion of Philista, since she will have some can be to think, that I quitted you, only because you chased me away. And indeed, it was 〈…〉 of Stesilea, to make Philista think so. But Philocles, replied she, do you think that Jealousy is a bad procurer of love: for my part, I think it an excellent good one; and am fully persuaded that if you were really in love with any other Lady, than Philista, she would love you the better for it; Yes, said I unto her, but you must imagine that her affection would be then very indifferent unto me, if I should love her no longer: It's true, replied she, but if this way wereless unjust than Philista herself is, you would be for ever happy.  
Stesilea pronounced these words in such a manner, that the tenderness of her friendship was of another nature than mine: and it troubled me so much, that the rest of our conference was in very ambiguous phrases from both parties, which I believe persuaded us, that both of us understood one another: But since I could not alter my heart, and would not deceive a Lady unto whom I had professed so much amity, I parted from her, complaining against myself, and as I believe, giving her some reason to complain against herself, for the cruel resolution I had taken to discourse no more in private, nor to speak with her but very seldom. Mean time, since this visit lasted very long, and was known unto Antigines, this change in my course of living with Stesilea, did not work those effects I hoped, and the rumour went that this separation, was a compact only 'twixt her and me: insomuch as Philista was not at all undeceived: and Stesilea made high complaints whensoever she ●ound opportunity for it: Saying, it was strange I should have so little care of her reputation, as to sacrifice it, for one who loved me not: During all this while, Philista, though she would love me herself, did what she could to make me hate Stesilea; yet do what she could I still retained a friendly opinion of her: It is very true, that it did conduce to my greater persecution: for I was even desperate, to see that I was the cause of her disquie●s. Thus stood the state of things, when I received an express order to return unto Corinth: you may imagine into what a damp this drove my soul. I was to leave a Lady whom I loved, but who loved not me: I forsook another Lady, who did a little love me, and whom I doubted not but should ruin me, as much as she could in the opinion of Philista, during my absence: But for one piece of good fortune to me, that father of Antigenes hearing where he was, did peremptorily command him to return, so that this was no small consolation unto me, nor was the news I heard of Alasis his returning unto his own Country very shortly, less joyful to me; but I kept it very close from Antigenes; because I had the intelligence by an indirect way: The Prince Cleobulus did embrace meat parting, and the Princess his daughter, who indeed was a most admirable Lady, gave me a Letter to the Princess of Corinth, which was writ no less in my advantage then that I brought. But when I was to bid adieu unto the Princes, and afterwards unto Philista, that was a doleful story to me: Antigenes and I met both there together, and I had so much satisfaction by it, that I hindered him from speaking in private unto Philista, but yet I found so much dissatisfaction also, as to see a notable difference in the adieus of this beauty: every time she looked upon Antigenes in this last conference, I saw in her eyes a melancholy cloud, which without any dim unto her beauty, did augment her sweetness, and when by chance she looked upon me, I could find nothing but indifferency, or disdain; she bid me adieu, and hardly looked upon me; but her eyes followed the happy Antigenes, as far as they could possibly see: To tell you how Antigenes and I lived together, during our Navigation, would be superfluous, it being easy to be imagined we mused continually upon the matter; and hardly spoke a word, but thought the more. I was something comforted, in that I brought my Rival away with me. As for Stesilea, I took no leave of her, though I endeavoured it: Despite, and sorrow, and honour, would not let her discover her weakness. At the last we arrived at Corinth, where Periander, and the Princes Cleobuline received me with joy: but yet there was no delights to be so used in it for me: I shuned all such company, as formerly I was wont to court: Arion only was he who did a little comfort me, for he was of a great spirit, and passionate Soul: I found in his discourse and songs, I knew not what kind of charming power, which did allay my sorrows, and keep me alive. Mean time, I was even desperate to see Antigenes, would not engage himself unto any fresh beauty: and thus did I live for almost a whole year: but in the end, it was known that Alasis father of Philista would come with his daughter (for he had not a wife) to inhabit in his ancient country: Oh Heavens! how this news rejoiced me! but this joy was qualified when I understood, that the elder Brother of Philista had married Stesilea, a little before their departure from Jalissa, and that she came also with them: Indeed this marriage did much augment my sorrows, yet did I hope, that since Stesilea was virtuous, the change in her condition would work upon her Soul, and that it would be more advantageous unto me to have a friend, so near allied unto Philista. Antigenes was so glad of this news, that his joy appeared in all his actions, which did not a little trouble me; but in conclusion, this longed for company arrived: you may very well imagine, that I prepared the mind of Periander, of Melissa, and of the Princess Cleobuline, to receive that Lady who was so infinitely dear unto me, very favourably: and I was so happy as to understand that Philista knew how I had done her that good office: but though she did acknowledge herself obliged unto m● for it, yet did she love me not a whit the better, but came unto Corinth the very same I left her at Jalissa, which was, very bitter against me, and very sweet unto Antigenes: as for Stesilea, I found a no●●ble alteration in her: for her beauty was a little impaired and she had a mask of so sad a melancholy on her pace, that I durst never ask her the cause: and since I did not seek for any occasions to speak in private with her, she also did avoid them as well as I: In the mean while, there was no hang which I did not, that might divert Philista, for she durst not openly refuse my civilities, because her father, having some obligations upon him towards me, would have took it ill from her: I showed her then all that was delightful in Corinth: Poo● Arion did sing so often to her for love of me, as I was astonished, that a voice and a harp, which charmed the Dolphins, could not sweeten the feirceness of her obdurate Soul. But she was all this while immovable, Stesilea for her part, was not only resolute never to express any Testimonies of her affection to me, but intended to cherish that aversion which Philista had unto me: and indeed, this unjust Lady, since their new alliance had persuaded Philista, that I was in love with her. So that Philista did treat me worse at Corinth, then at Jalissa. I could never go unto Philista, but I found Stesilea in her chamber or else Philista was in hers, which angered me to the heart: for I think there is nothing more irksome, than every day to see together one whom I love, which loves not me, and another who loves me, and I love not her; though her whom I do love, thinks that I do love her whom I do not love. Yet did I endure this Torment a long time, without finding any consolation in any thing, and not obtaining one favourable word from Philista. I remember one day, when I came unto this hard hearted Lady, one desired to speak with Stesilea: I took hold of that opportunity, and beseeched her to tell me, if she could possibly remember all the sorrows which I suffered at Jalissa, and not have some thoughts of repentance: then did I repeat the original of my love, and a hundred Thousand petty things, which had taken so deep a root in my heart, that I resented them as if they were yet to come: But Philista hardly hearing me, did answer me far from the purpose, and in such a slighting manner, as would have caused any other than myself, to have out run his patience. Since I did complain in most respective manner; Truly Philocles (said she unto me smiling,) you must pardon me, for I do not remember what you said unto me; I know very well, that I had the honour to see you at Jalissa; but to imagine, that I should here remember either what you said or what you did there, would be to abuse yourself; for I use to charge my memory with very few things; Time past, and time to come, are two things I never think on: What most unjust Lady▪ said I unto her) do you not remember how oft I have told you how passionately I loved you. Although I should remember such a thing (replied she) yet should you be never the better for it. Then repeating the places where I expressed my passion, sometimes in the Garden, other times at the Princess of Lindus lodgings, and several times at her own, I perceived that she did not remember one quarter of those things I told her: which vexed me more than if she had given me the worst language, there being nothing so offensive, nor a greater sign of scorn or indifference, than oblivion. Is it possible (said I unto her being much moved a●d grieved at it) that I should remember all the actions of Philista, all her words, and even all her looks, and that she would not remember one of the hundred thousand torments which I endured, and which she caused? Oh most obdurate and cruel woman, must I be more unhappy than ever? what do you think, (said she laughing at my anger and complaints) I thought to be only hated (said I unto her) but by this cruel oblivion, I see I am in a more deplorable condition than I thought: since I am most certainly scorned: I see now you have a Soul which is not only insensible of me, but (if it may be permitted me to say it) it is a most dead Soul; you look upon me, and will not see me; you hear me, and will not understand me: nor am I cettain whether or no you hear me now. Yes, answered she, and I understand very well that you tell me of one of the most fantastical things in the world, but I will not promise you to remember it when you are out of my sight. In the name of the Gods (said I unto her) treat me not thus: hate me, if you cannot love me; but do not forget all that I do and say. Why Philocles, (said she unto me) had you rather be hated, then forgotten? Without all question I had (answered I:) But in the mean time (replied she) there is nothing more contrary to love then hatred: Pardon me (said I unto her) for there is at the least some thought in a Soul which hates, nor is it absolutely impossible, but love may kindle amongst the sparks of anger: but a cold and insensible Soul which retains no memory of all one does to move it, what hopes is there of any tenderness or acknowledgement? how can it ever love those it never thinks on? But yet (replied she) I cannot conceive it better to be hated then forgotten. Alas fair Philista, said I unto her, you were never either hated or forgotten: But I, whom you have caused to know bo●h too experimentally, do really profess I had rather you would remember me, and hate me, than not remember me at all: Yet hatred in my opinion, is a very great obstacle unto love (said she.) Yes, said I, but oblivion is a greater, since it is an absolute impossibility any love should arise out of it, as it possible may out of anger and hatred. In one word Madam, I think it so inhuman an act to banish an unfortunate lover out of remembrance, that I think it less cruelty to put him unto death: Banish me out of your heart therefore Madam, if you cannot endure me, but leave me I beseech you a little room in your memory: forget if you please to speak ill of me, & to complain of me for loving you so obstinately against your will, but I beseech you forget not how my love has importuned you: Is this Philista (said I unto her) which I now beg too much? Yes, replied she, for hatred is a turbulent passion, which disturbs the rest of all those who have it; whereas oblivion on the contrary, is a dull sleepy spirit, which has nothing of choler in it, and which makes one pass away their time with pleasure. Then (said I unto her, not being master of my own resentments, so much was I incensed) I beseech you forget the delights, which the conversation of Antigenes affords you, as well as the perplexity which the company of Philocles does cause: No, (replied she in a scoffing raillarie) I have a better way than so, for I always remember what pleases me, and forget what perplexeth me. As I was beginning to answer, the princess Cleobuline entered, and I immediately went out, it being impossibls for me to stay any longer with her who denied me every thing but her hatred. It seemed after this, that fortune began to smile a little upon me, but it was only to make me more sensible of her frowns, as after wards you shall know. It fell out so, that Antigenes was forced to go unto Thebes upon some urgent occasions; so that I enjoyed so much happiness as to be quitof my beloved Rival, and in his absence to speak with more liberty unto Philista: but the more I entertained her, the more did it augment her aversion, and to that extremity, as she could not endure me: Yet did I solicit, as if I were not out of all hopes: I courted the friendship of her Brother and of Alasis very diligently, and I so obtained it, that both of them did openly testify they should be very glad to have Philista marry me: My Uncle, who liked of this alliance, and knew I was in love with this Lady, did speak unto them concerning me, after he had first written unto my father about it, but spoke not a word to me, until after they had given him favourable answers. So that I saw no obstacles at all, but only Philista herself, but that was so great a one, as it was invincible: Her father had no sooner commanded her to look upon me as one who was to be her husband, and expressed himself so peremptorily that he expected an absolute obedience without any resistance, but she fell into extreme despair: she employed Stesilea to his brother, but in vain, and indeed she found all her tears her complaints, and her prayers to no purpose. In the mean time, the rumour of this marriage ran all about, and all the Court rejoiced for the love of me: and every one came unto her to tender their complimental services; but to avoid such persecutions she feigned to be ill, and by this cunning device she deprived me as well as the rest of her sight: Stesilea was with her all this while, doing me as ill offices as she could: and assisting Antigenes to my prejudice. The melancholy of Philista was so extreme, that she became sick in earnest in feigning to be so, and so sick too, that Physicians thought she would die; but afterwards, she recovered, and was able to endure company, but yet she continued in a languishing manner and so very melancholy, that her humour could not be known. I among the rest came to see her, and she durst not deny me: yet did I see her almost without any satisfaction out of any opinion I was the cause of all her ill.  
During this time, many did speak unto her in my behalf; and the Princess Cleobuline would needs know of her why she carried the matter so violently against me, but she could not possibly get any other answer from her, but that she did not know the cause herself; she agreed with the Princess, that I was of such a family as that alliance with me would be an honour unto hers: that I had a better estate than ever she could hope for, that I had a ●air esteem in the world; and doubtless I loved infinitely, since I continued it notwithstanding her extreme disdain: but yet for all this, she would always say that she could never love me: and that there was something in her heart which she could not master, and which was opposite unto any thing that would be advantageous unto me. But, said the Princess unto her, is it not your secret choice of Antigenes, which denies Philocles any entrance into your heart? No, (said she unto her) for though I had no liking at all unto Antigenes, and though my heart were absolutely free, yet should I ever have an aversion to Philocles: for indeed, since I do not hate him out of any reason, but out of a secret cause, which I understand not, I need seek no further. The Princess who did me the honour to favour me, seeing the fancy of Philista, endeavoured to withdraw my affection, but since there was so great a sympathy in me to love her, as there was antipathy in her to hate me; she could not prevail. I did acknowledge against my mind, that there was in Corinth as excellent beauties as Philista every whit, as sprightly and noble; but yet for all that I could not choose but love her above them all: so that finding as great an impossibility to make me forget her, as there was to move her to love me, so we continued both most miserable. Stesilea only found in her heart some malignant satisfaction at our misfortunes, taking much pleasure, doubtless to see that man whom she had loved, to be hated by her he loved: and also to see her whom she imagined to be the cause why she was not loved again, to be miserable both by my passion, and her own. In the mean while Alassis was much incensed against Philista, so much as he sent her word he was resolved to see her no more until she resolved to marry me, and live complacentially towards me: her brother was in the same humour, so that she having no hopes in her, but all despair, she lived so melancholy a life, that all the Court discoursed of it: yet she suffered not alone, for I did participate of her miseries in a most cruel manner: sometime I would needs resolve to love her no longer, and almost imagined myself able to do it: But alas, I had no sooner took up that resolution, but my walk carried me unto her, whether I would, or no. Antigenes was all this while absent, and there was none to cause all my miseries, but Philista. One day when I was with her, when it fortuned, Stesilea contrary to her custom, was absent; after some Ladies which were with her were gone away; we both of us did sit mute, and spoke not a word to one another. Philista deeply musing, and never looking at me, and I continually gazing upon her, and durst not begin discourse: I found so great an alteration in her face, that I wondered at it. But when she looked up, and ●●perceived her eyes so full of tears, which she could not restrain, that she did endeavour it as much as possible: I was so sensibly moved at it, that it was impossible any should be more.  
Madam, said I unto her, May I take so much liberty, as to ask, whether those tears which I see, proceed from any cause which is known unto me? Yes, said she in a languishing manner; and more than that, you may cause them to cease. ay, Madam, (said I unto her?) Yes, replied she, for if you were as generous as you should be, I should be at more quiet, and you also: and indeed, why cannot you hate me? The same question, may be asked Madam, (replied I) why, cannot you love me? The reason is, said she, because I cannot. The same reason is for me, Madam, said I unto her, for I can no more cease from loving you, than you cease from hating me. Know then however, said she, that by reason of this impossibility I am not in any fault. Be pleased to know also by the same reason (answered I) that I am most unfortunate, since I cannot live without you, nor you live with me: but I better understand upon what reason I love you, than I do what reason you have not to endure my love. Look for neither any reasons, nor excuses, for what I do, said she, for I not look for any myself. Perhaps, said I unto her, that time and my services may at length alter your mind. No, Philocles, replied she, deceive not yourself: I have hitherto carried the matter as well as I could, I have invented pretences and excuses to defer the marriage, which my father will needs make up with you: I have counterfeited sick, and that so long until I was really so; but for all this, if he, or you, or both, do not alter your resolutions, I am fully resolved to disobey him openly, and by consequence be blamed by all the world: yet I cannot do otherwise. Alas Madam, said I unto her, are you absolutely determined to oppose my good fortune? Call not that marriage, good fortune, said she, which would be so disadvantageous both for you, and me; for what pleasure can you find in seeing me perpetually melancholy, and receiving an hundred signs of indifferency from me? No, Philocles, you would not find any happiness in it, and therefore if you be wise think upon some other course: and I am so generous, said she, as that I would not punish a man who loves me (as you do) so cruelly; no● is your own interest in this business, less concerned than mine: And I am most certain, said she, that I should never marry you, although the whole earth would be given to purchase my consent; I do consider also, that affecting honour, as I do, I should think myself infinitely obliged unto you, if you would not force me to an urgent necessity to resist my father; but of yourself resolve to forsake me. To forsake you Madam? (said I unto her with extreme sorrow) Oh Heavens▪ how can I obey you? Had you rather (said she) that I should look upon you as my persecutor, and that I should turn my indifference into fury against you, and despair against myself? And have you a mind to make me as miserable, as you are unfortunate? you may very well think, that if I could love you, I would obey my father, but since I am not able to do it, what grand injustice is it to wish me unto things above my power? No Dominion was ever so tyrannical, as that which one pretends unto over the soul: Think well with yourself, Philocles; consider it; and if there be any reason remaining in you, make use of it in qualifying your own misfortunes, and making mine to cease. Madam, said I unto her, do you intend that I should leave you the liberty to marry Antigenes 〈◊〉 Oh no, no, I love you too well over to consent unto it. If I were persuaded that your disdain of me, proceeded from a natural antipathy which you could not overcome, I should then be so respective of you, as that I would resolve to die in resolving never to express any more symptoms of my love, or persecuting you any longer: But unjust Lady that you are, since your aversion to me is caused only by your inclination unto Antigenes, and that you would not cast off Philocles, but only to give him room in your affection: be pleased to know that I cannot brook it, nor will ever suffer it: Antigenes has been my friend, it is true, but since he is become my Rival, he must prepare himself to unloose the bands of friendship: I have hitherto restrained my resentments, I have seen him favoured and loved, but I will never see him the Husband of Philista; and therefore, to make all parties happy, alter your design, Philista. It must be the Gods must alter it, answered she, and since I cannot think they ever will, all that I can say unto you, is, that although Antigenes were not in the world, though I had never known him, yet should I be the same unto you I am. But however Madam, said I unto her, confess the truth, Antigenes should have the honour to be the fair Philista's choice, if Alasis would consent unto it. I am too sincere, replied she, to deny what you say. O most cruel Lady, said I unto her, will you make me absolutely despair? But Philocles, said she, would you have me lose my reason? what right have you unto any part of my will? Did I ever give you any hopes, since the first time I know you? No, said I unto her, but you have procured in me abundance of love. Am I to blame, replied she? Have I not an hundred times desired you to cease from loving me? 'Tis true, all that ever you said unto me was in vain, for Philocles shall never enjoy me. And I swear by the Heavens, said I, Antigenes shall never enjoy Philista, as long as Philocles lives. I had rather choose that misfortune than the other, (replied she.) Would you so? (said I, with a mind full of anger, jealousy, and love.) I have already told you so, answered she. Since it is so (pursued I) be pleased to know, that if you will you may be rid of the unfortunate Philocles; he shall not persecute you any more; nor unless you please, shall ever see you again. Which way (said she) can I obtain so great a happiness? By breaking off with Antigenes, said I unto her, and solemnly promising never to see him no ofter them me: for to imagine, that you should cast off me, and I suffer you to enjoy a thousand happy days with my Rival, is a thing impossible. I know very well Madam, that I do in some sort transgress against the respect which I owe you; but whosoever has no more reason than I have, is not subject unto any Law of Complacency: Speak then, Madam, I beseech you, Is it your pleasure, Philocles shall see you no more? it is in your power, and you may do it presently. If I were your wife, replied she, what would, you then do? If I should enjoy that honour, said I unto her, I should then trust myself with your virtue, but since I am only the object of your aversion and disdain, I must trust unto myself: therefore Madam, if you would not have me move Alasis to compel you unto what he has promised me, write a Letter unto Antigenes, which shall absolutely forbid him to see you, at his return, and I shall immediately leave you in peace, upon condition that the promise which you shall make be sincere, which is, that you will never marry Antigenes. You tell me of such horrid things (answered she) that I cannot possibly endure them: you also have given me such dismal answers, replied I, that I wonder I can hear them and live; but how ever Antigenes shall never thrive by my disgrace: yet since I can never be yours, replied she, why should you care whose I be: Why Madam? (said I unto her) alas, you do not know the fury of that passion which rules in me, to think there is no difference between a Rival that is loved, and another which is not: I know that to lose the possession of her one loves, is a cruel fate, but to see her enjoy the Rival which she loves is infinitely more terrible, therefore never imagine that I can ever change my thoughts; Allow me then some time to consider upon such a fatal Proposition. I am contented Madam (said I unto her sighing) and afterwards assuming more calmness of mind, I would to the Gods, Madam, said I, that during this time of consideration, you would change your thoughts of me: and thus did I leave Philista; and left in a most unquiet mind: for she saw I had given her an occasion to be delivered of all my importunacies, yet it was upon condition to quit herself from Antigenes whom she loved: On the other side, she feared that if she persisted any longer in her obstinacy, her father would either force her to marry me, as there was great likelihood he would, or else I would kill Antigenes: for my part I was in no less perplexity than she, for I had seen Philista so sick, or altered, and so melancholy, that I feared the being a cause of her death: Moreover, I thought such an angry piece of business, to force her inclination in marrying me against her will, by the authority of her father, that I could hardly resolve upon it: Sometimes a generous disdain made me ashamed of my unworthy perseverance, but pesently after love became predominate, and took up its first place, chase all other thoughts from my heart; sometimes anger would so transport me, that I would not marry her, but only to take her from Antigenes, and treat her ill afterwards; this seeming the sweet way of all: sometimes again, when my mind was more serene, I would win her no way but by my submissions: But the Result of all my thoughts was, that Antigenes should never marry her: Mean while Alasis was angry at the proceeding of his daughter, and began to hasten on the marriage, sending her word by her brother; that it was his peremptory pleasure she should consent unto it: Seeing herself then in such a narrow and desperate condition, she sent for me: and with tears in her eyes, Philocles (said she to me) you have overcome me. Ah Madam, said I unto her, is it possible? Yes, said she, and upon condition you will break off with my father, I promise you to break off with Antigenes. O Heavens, Madam, said I unto her, how dismal is this victory, and how dear do I buy those tears? But Madam, said I, Can you cast off Antigenes, purposely to cast off Philocles? Keep, said she, within the limits of your Proposition, unless you intent to drive me into some desperate resolution: Philista pronounced these words in such a manner, that notwithstanding my choler, I did pity her. Madam, said I unto her, what assurance can I have that you will cast off Antigenes? This Letter, said she, which you shall give, or send unto him: I beseech you, added she, since I do for you, all that I can, do for me what you ought, and see me no more I conjure you. In saying so, she left me, and went into her Closet: but so pale, so changed, and so much sorrow in her eyes, that I saw Antigenes was more in her favour than I had thought. It is not easy for me to tell you the state of my soul at that time: I quitted her, and her Chamber, and went unto my own, where opening Philista's Letter, I read these words.  
PHILISTA unto ANTIGENES.  
SInce Philocles hath promised me to see me no more, I do conjure you by that power, which you have given me over you, to do the same. This is the only way, which can keep me from becoming his, and it is by his will only, that mine is not tyrannised over by my father. To prevent my marrying of him, whom I love not, I must deprive myself of him, whom doubtless I would have loved, if it had been permitted me. But what should I do? Fates will have it so, and there's an end: Mean time, remember that I expect obedience from you, and that I never see you; also that you neither quarrel with Philocles, nor he with you, concerning me: for since he deprives himself of all he loves, (which is myself) for the love of me: It is but just that you do as much for him, since it conduceth to the tranquillity of  
PHILISTA.  
" Oh Heaven, what variety of thoughts did this Letter beget in me! one while I was pleased in thinking Antigenes should see Philista no more: immediately after I was all sorrow to see how ill I stood in her fancy. I thought a hundred times, and a hundred times to alter my resolution: and as oft again to follow those resolutions I had taken, I desired a friend of mine to go unto Alasis, and to beseech him most humbly, that he would not use any force upon the inclination of Philista, but at the least to give her some time to consider upon it, It so fell o●t, that I was to take a journey upon some important business, and was within a few days to leave Corinth; Alasis began presently to suspect the truth, and would needs have it so, that notwithstanding the aversion of his daughter I must marry her: but I departed, without biding adieu unto any, and went unto Antigenes: you may easily imagine that I undertook this journey with extreme sorrow: as soon as I came to Thebes, I enquired where Antigenes lodged; and found the place, but they told me, that he was gone into the Gardens, which are beyond the Castle of Cadmus: being showed the way, I went thither, and found him there, with many beauties walking in the walks which were very large: As I espied him at the end of one walk, I passed into another, not desiring to speak unto him before so many: and coming unto the end of a walk just opposite to that where he was, I saw the conversation of those Ladies, and him, was very high, gallant, and pleasant; and me thought, for a man that was in love at Corinth, he was a little too blithe, and merry at Thebes: but since I was not in the sam● humour wherein I saw him, I would not mingle into the company of such who were all unknown unto me but my Rival, but returned, and waited for him at his lodging: since it was late before he returned that night, my patience would hardly hold out, yet I had so great a desire to give him this cooling news, that I stayed still: he was no sooner come in, but going into the Chamber, where his men had placed me, I went towards him in a cold kind of manner; but I was much surprised to see him come unto me with a freer countenance than ever he did since we were Rivals: Is Philocles, said he unto me, at Thebes? Oh Heavens, is it possible! Yes, answered I unto him, and he came hither purposely to Antigenes, by order from Philista: Are you upon such good terms with her (said he unto me) that she should give you any such Commission? You shall see by her Letter, said I unto him, and gave it him. Antigenes blushed in taking of it, and going unto the Table whereon there was a Candle: I confess, said he, I cannot guests at the business, but after he had read the Letter, without any such great resentment as I expected: No, no, Philocles (said he unto me, repeating some words of Philista's Letter,) Antigenes shall not quarrel with you; and though you would quarrel with him, yet he will not suffer it to be so. I do confess this discourse of Antigenes did much surprise me; but after he had embraced me, he told me how the Gods had cured him of his passion: And though I cannot confess it (said he) without shame, yet for your tranquillity, I w●ll acknowledge my mutability, and tell you that I am now in love at Thebes, as I was at Corinth. How, said I unto him, is Antigenes whom Philista loves inconstant? and is Philocles whom she hates and scorns faithful? So it is, replied he, and I can give you no other reason for it, unless this, that the Gods would not have me any longer continue a Rival unto one of my dearest friends. I did not at the first, give any credit unto the words of Antigenes but the next morning he showed me the Lady whom he then loved, who indeed was a miracle of beauty: I enquired further in the Town, I found that ever since he came to Thebes, he seemed to be in love with her. Then did we renew our ancient friendship; and I returned unto Corinth, with permission from him to make Philista acquainted with his inconstancy; hoping that perhaps it would conduce unto my advantage: But alas, this hope was ill bottomed, for she not being able to revenge herself upon Antigenes for his infidelity, would needs cast all her revenge upon me, and treated me more cruelly than ever.  
At that time her father died, so that now fearing none, but having the staff in her own hand, she did beat me with it, and not see me any more: and to complete my misfortune, this cruel Lady, being well recovered in her health, and fairer than ever, returned unto Jalissa, unto an Aunt of hers there, and a little while after was also married there; never showing any thing but signs of extreme aversion unto me, or at the best, indifferency: so that by consequence I may well say, that I have not only been deprived of all the sweets of love, but have also had sad experience of all its bitters; never being any without doubt, which could equal this: I could not endure the place where I had been so long tormented; and notwithstanding any thing that any could say unto me, I left Corinth, and returned unto Cyprus, where I continued adoring that obdurate Lady; so that without hopes of ever being loved, I persisted still, and ever shall do in love; and by consequence must be the most unfortunate man that ever loved, or lived: Absence is doubtless a most sensible evil, but to be absolutely cashiered out of the heart of her one loves, is much more cruel then to be only out of her eyes: this evil has a thousand remedies, which may cure, at the least, comfort it. The remembrance of pleasing passages joined unto the hopes of return, does sweeten many an hour, whatsoever Thimocrates is pleased to say; nor do I know whether the joy and pleasure which one takes to see his Mistress again after a long absence from her, be not greater than all the miseries that absence can cause: But to imagine that one is not loved no● ever shall be, this is an incomprehensible misery, at the least to one that hath had experience of it: for this grand absence comprehends all other sorts of absences, since in the very presence of her one loves, he is absent from her heart and mind, unto which no other absence can be comparable: I do confess that doubtless the death of a mistress is more rigorous than absence; but I cannot endure any should say, that he who is not loved should be less miserable than he who loseth that which he loves: This last evil is certainly, a most violent one; yet notwithstanding, according to the intention of nature, it loseth something of its force as soon as it is come unto its limit: but this which I endure, contrary to the order of all the universe, is more violent and durable: the longer it lasts, the more it augments, whereas the other on the contrary does at length diminish. That impossibility which there is, to raise one from the dead, make a Soul rest itself, whether it will or no, in its own sorrow: it shuts itself, as one may say, within the Tomb of her he loves, and lulling itself a sleep in the Coffin with her, its sorrows by degrees does there languish, and he has some consolation there, that he can be dew with tears, the ashes of his Mistress. But a scorned love, who sees himself dead in the heart of is Mistress, enjoys no rest: for being persuaded, that it is not absolutely impossible, but some altertaion or other may happen in his business he plots a hundred several devices, which none of them bitting the make he aimed at, does continually drive him into d●spair: all his hope is to b●●n quiet, and not to be comforted: and doing every thing which others use to do which may make themselves loved, he does them all in vain, the more he loves, the more he is scorned or without any power to cure himself or ever desiring it, he endures an incredible forment. Jealousy, indeed is a very dangerous poison: but it spits not all its malignits on the heart of that lover, who thinks himself sometimes loved, and 〈◊〉 jealousy can ever be ranked amongst the greatest miseries, doubtless it must be, when he who is jealous is persuaded that the Lady whom he loves had never one good thought of him. Yet it com●s not near that torment which I endure; for I am persuaded, that if I had only one single thought. I should hereafter be loved by Philista but one poor day; the very thoughts of that one day would sweeten all my miseries, and fortify my hopes as long as I lived. A jealous man may himself imagine that perhaps, what he thinks is not so; for that passion does commonly inspire only ●ncertain thoughts, and ill grounded fancies: But when one finds by a long, and a sad experience, that there is an absolute unalterable aversion in the heart of her he loves: what more pleasant thought can he have, than the desire of death? For truly, all the cares, the services, the sighs, the tears, and every thing else which the most faithful lovers do, are all done, that by them they may obtain the happiness to be loved: that is all the recompense of love, the prize which is only aimed at, and without it all other things are nothing: and to obtain it, they will willingly suffer whole years of misery: he than that is deprived of that which is the end, the aim, and wish of all lovers, who ever did love, do love, or ever shall love; must needs be the most lamentable; and I dare affirm, that I suffer more than any one in the World can, and by consequence, it would be extreme Injustice, not to lament me more, than any unfortunate men, who suffers less.  
Thus did Philocles, relate, and end his Story, with his reasons, which seemed so strong unto Martesia, that she could not forbear her bitter invections against Philista, in so much as Philocles was forced to take her part and excuse her: For my part, said Cyrus, as I must needs blame her, so I must needs pity Philocles: for the Gods it seems are much incensed against her, for making her to look upon that as a misfortune, which would have made her infinitely happy: But since she herself, replied Erenice, is the cause of her misfortune, me thinks, Sir, that she deserves it. Philocles said Aglatidas, is questionless, much to be lamented: for if fortune had only crossed his designs, he would more easily have endured it, then to see Philista, do it. This misery is great indeed, replied Thimocrates, but when I think upon what I suffer, I think it little: but I conceive it more insupportable than yours, replied the Prince Artibies, though a Thousand degrees short of mine: Oh I wish to the Gods, that the adored Lady whose loss I mourn for, were in such a condition, that I might suffer the same for her: This is a very strange wish added Leontidas, yet I do not know whether those which I have often made in my jealous fits, would not seem more strange unto you: It is not your time to speak yet, said Martesia, but if you be pleased to think well of it, Sir, said she, and looked upon Cyrus, the Prince Artibies, according unto the order which you approved of, shall tell his story before Leontidas: You are their Judge, replied Cyrus, and it is only you, unto whom they all must be obedient, and I believe the Prince Artibeis is well pleased with it. Then after he had called to mind, all ●he dismal Ideas, of his dead Mistress, his countenance altered, his eyes were more melancholy than before, and after he had sighed two or three times, he began his Story thus.   

The Lover in Mourning. The third History.  
THe remembrance of misfortunes is doubtless very pleasing unto those who do not endure them any longer, and who like men escaped from shipwreck, and out of all fears do tell the dangers they have avoided: But the misery which I endure being eternal, or at the soon, must not end but with life, it is hard for me to have a Soul so free, as to exactly tell you, the original and progress of my passion: And though it were possible to find some sweetness in complaining against such evils, yet would there be none in the remembrance of such past pleasures, which can never be enjoyed. Pardon me therefore I conjure you, if I descant upon nothing but what is fatally dismal: and think not ill of me, if my soul which is used unto no thoughts but death, does entertain you with dull and melancholy relations, and fill your imaginations with nothing but Urns, Coffins, and Tombs. I shall not insist to tell you the reasons, why the Prince of Cicilie my brother, sent me unto Thebes, since it is not pertinent unto your knowledge, that it was my passion, brought me thither: it will be sufficient to inform you that I was two whole years there: But perhaps it is not altogether impertinent to let you know that the Princess my Mother, was descended from the race of Cadmus' son of Agenor, who was so illusterous amongst though Thebans. I went then to Thebes in an equipage befitting my birth: I was received there with much honour: and within a few days I was acquainted with all that were great and noble there. He who then was Poetarch, that is, Captain General of Poetia had a son called Palimnis, near of my age, with whom I contracted a most intimate friendship, and who showed me all the Ladies of quality in Thebes, amongst which I found abundance of rare beauties. But in all the companies wherein I was, I heard no discouse but of the sickness of one in the Town, whom all reports made to be the fairest in the world: and I asked Polimnis whether it was true, that this person whom they said was in danger to die, was fairer than any I had seen in Thebes? He assured, that she had more beauty than all the rest, put them all together: afterwards I understood she was his Cousin, and descended from Etocles' nephew of Creon, and son of Jocastus who wore the Crown with so many misfortunes, and that this Lady had all the rare qualities which could render one most perfectly accomplished. I began then upon these reports, to interest myself in her condition; and every day asked Polimnis how this fair sick Lady did? not yet being more sensible of any sorrow, as you may well suppose, than the love of any beautiful things in general might cause, and such as natural compassion might infuse into a man, who had a tender soul and quick imagination. However, it was an easy matter to discover her lovers, for they were all of them so melancholy, that the most discreet amongst them did show their passions by there tears, or at least by their sighs, Upon a day when Polimnis and I passed by the door of Leontina (so was this fair Lady called) and the same who had cured Antigenes of his love to Philista) we saw many men go hastily in, and saw others come out, with eyes and faces all tears. Polimnis stayed one of Leontinas women who he saw grieving very much, and she told him, that her Mistress was dying, and that she was going to fetch one of her friends whom she desired to speak with, before she lost her speech. Polimnis, who was of kin to this sick Lady, and loved her very well desired of me permission to go unto her; I was so far from denying him, that I said I would go with him. We entered into the house, where the condition of Leontina had caused such disorder, that much ceremony was not to be observed: all the doors were open; all the domestics in tears: several chambers through which we passed were full of people, and when we came near her chamber, Polimnis having not yet met with any who could exactly tell him the state of his Cousin, left me at the door, and entered himself into her chamber, which he found full of men, who had no more reason to enter then he had: and coming near the Canopy of cloth of Gold, I saw upon a bed which was under it, the incomparable Leontina in a sound: but Oh Heavens, how this sight did surprise and trouble me! The fight of so great a beauty, in so pitiful a case, did deeply penetrate my soul? she lay neglegently, on one side, with her head a little turned: her hair half loose, her right arm out of bed; her neck alittle open, her eyes shut, h●r mouth half open, without any sign of life; only a weak kind of breathing, which was hardly discernible, yet although the paleness of death was upon her face, I who entered after Polimnis, could say, that I never in all my life saw any so fair: you may well imagine how sad I was to see her in that condition; and to observe, that all remedies and physic would do her no good, which in an hour after, I thought, I saw her ready to expire. Polimnis, who saw me near him, would divers times move me to go out, and avert our eyes from so sad an object: but seeing none taken any notice of us, but that without any offence we might remain there, I held him, and would not let him go out; for I was so much moved to see Leontina in that condition, though I had never seen it in any other, that indeed I was turned a very stock, and could not stir. But at last, when I was almost past all hopes, I presently perceived, I saw a fresh colour appear upon the paleness of her cheek, and as it were drive away that mortal paleness which had spread itself over all her face: Presently after, she opened her eyes, but though she did immediately shut them again, I saw something so splendid in them, that I was dazzled; a little after that, she sighed, and turned herself with so much strength, that she gave evident signs and hopes of her amendment: so that the Physicians being put in some hopes, they caused all to go out of the Chamber, but such as might be useful, that she might have no more air, and they better help her: It is impossible for me to tell you, how half dead Leontina did raise an immortal passion in my heart: Let it suffice, O my equitable Judge! that you know I loved her, though dying as she was, and compassion did so mollify my heart, that love wounded it without resistance.  
After this, I was more careful than Polimnis was to inquire every day how she did & also more diligent than all the rest of her ancient Lovers. Mean while it was the pleasure of the Gods to restore her unto the earth: she recovered, and she lived in perfect health, and that so fair, so charming, and so admirable in all things, that I esteemed myself infinitely happy in being her Slave. Polimnis, carried me unto her, as soon as I was in a condition to be seen, and I was received with much civility; I found also so many graces in her mind, that there was no need of any beauty to captivate mine, if it had not been so already. I shall tell you, (but follow that rule which I proposed) how I did all such things, as a springing love does usually produce; how I endeavoured to please her, to divert her, and to get myself into her esteem: But I shall only tell you, that though I was not very improsperous in these three things, yet was it very long before I could receive any signs of complacency in her towards my passion. Leontina was very civil, it is true, but so she was unto all the world, yet my love was not at all satisfied; but though I thought she did not love me at all, yet did I continue to love her infinitely, as after her recovery it appeared: for she being gone into the Country with some of her friends, there ran a rumour about all Thebes, that she was drowned in going over the River Ismenes, the Coach being overturned in the midst of the water: This sad accident was related with all manner of circumstances; how Leontina was found dead, some five or six paces from the place where the Coach was broke, and there was no question made of the truth in this tragic news: It is hard for me to tell you how I received it, I lost my speech, and almost my life, I cannot tell you what I then said or did, my reason was so confounded, and my sorrows told all the world, that I had much ado to hide my passion, because the humour of Leontina was not to affect those public Adorers, who make a vanity of their passion: since it was two days journey from Thebes unto the place where they said this dismal misfortune happened, it was long before we could be informed of the certainty. But Oh Heavens! every hour was an age, and I passed them all without any hopes; and if Polimnis who was acquainted with my love, had not prevented me, I had gone myself unto the place, where they said Leontina was drowned: But my impatience was so high, that I took horse, and went out of Town, though it were but to go into the way through which the Corpss of Leontina was to come: Polimnis knowing of it, followed me, and desiring to comfort me, he told me that I was happy his Cousin had been no more favourable unto me, since if she had loved me, I should have been much more unfortunate than I was: Ah unjust friend, said I unto him, you know not how to love, do you think it possible I should be more grieved than I am? No, no, said I unto him once again, you do not know what are the effects of love. Alas, (said I never thinking Polimnis stood by) Leontina is dead: Leontina the beauty of the world is most miserably lost; she did not love me, it is true, but perhaps she might have loved me hereafter, and because she did not at the present love me, must I therefore leave lamenting her; and was not my love of her sufficient to make me eternally bewail her loss? Yes, yes, (said I, and turning towards Polimnis) there needs no more to prove unto you, that I must be for ever joyless, I loved Leontina, and I have lost her, what needs more to make me desperate? We do never use to mourn for them who loves us when we do not love them; and we do always mourn for them we love, though they love not us. Lament, lament eternally, and weep for the incomparable Leontina. As I was thus condoling, Polimnis not harkening unto me, but looking towards a great plain, (for Boetia is a very flat and open Country) I stopped and looked as he did, and casting my eyes the same way, I saw a Coach appear, guarded and conveyed by some horse: After Polimnis and I had looked a while, whilst the Coach drew near us, we knew it to belong unto that same fair one, whose loss I so lamented: Ah Polimnis, (said I distractedly) look where they bring the Corpse of Leontina: in saying so, this sad object did so work upon my spirits, that my soul was too weak to support so great a grief: I would have put my horse on towards the Coach, which was coming towards us, but not knowing what I did, but having absolutely lost my reason, I went backward in lieu of forward; Polimnis coming towards me, seeing my countenance change, my eyes twinkle, and I holding him by the hand, said in an undistinguishable tone, (I shall see her dead Polimnis) and after this, he saw I let the bridle of my horse fall, and if he had not held me up, I had fallen myself; he than took me by the Arm, and one of my men helping him, they took me off my horse very gently, and set me upon the ground some two paces from the way, where I lay in a sound: Polimnis was then in a pitiful case, to see his friend dying, and his Cousin dead: but as he was very busy about me, and the Coach came nearer, he was extremely surprised to hear Ladies in it laughing and singing; then did he rise up to look who they were, and he saw Leontina in the Boot of the Coach, who knowing him caused it to stay, that she might ask him what he was doing there, but casting her eyes at the same time upon me; Oh Heavens! said she, is not that the Prince Artibies which I see? Yes, replied he, it is the same, and he is in great need of your help; but said he unto her, how did you rise from the dead, for all in Thebes thinks you so? It is not now a time to tell you, replied she, but rather to help your friend: In saying so, she came out of the Coach, as all the rest of h●r friends did, and commanding one of her men to go in all haste unto the next house for some water to fetch me out of my sound, Leontina did most charitably come to me, and laid her hand upon my Arm, to try how my pulse did beat: Mean while he who w●nt for water, returning, they threw some in my face, and by little and little I revived. But Oh Heavens! how was I surprised to find myself in that condition, and to see my admired Leontina living, though my imagination during this long sound was filled with her death. When Polimnis saw what I would revive, he came towards Leontina, who turned towards him, asked what was the cause of this accident: Yourself, inhuman Cousin, said he unto her, and then in few words he told her, the news of her false death, was the cause of his true and real sorrow: but though she seemed not to believe it, yet she afterwards told me, that she was fully persuaded of it, especially by my manner of looking upon her, when I returned unto myself, by the confusion I was in, to find myself in that condition, and by an hundred other things which I did and said upon that occasion.  
But in conclusion, after I was fully assured that Leontina was living, and had thanked her for her charitable help, she would not suffer me to take horse, but desiring her friends to make room for me, she took me into her Coach, which I was constrained to accept of, for I had not yet recovered out of my weakness and sorrows. In our return to Thebes, I understood, how that which raised the reports of her death, was that indeed she found the River of Ismenes very high, and being likely to be put to swim, she thought of no way but perishing, yet by good fortune they turned the Coach back again to the side, and it did not overturn until they were near the Banks, so that she and all her friends were easily relieved, and rid out of their fears to be drowned; but they stayed a day to refresh themselves after this fright, and resolved not to continue on their journey, until the River was lower: so it is to be imagined, that some or other seeing only the Coach overturned, had raised this report. However, this accident was very favourable unto me; and the mute eloquence of my sounding had more Rhetoric in it to persuade Leontina, than all my words: I found her, me thought, nothing so rigid unto me as she used; and if it were pertinent at this time to remember delightful passages, I should tell you that for two months together, I fully tasted of all the sweets, which hopes of being loved could feast me with all; but since it is not at all pertinent, I shall only tell you, that after so many happy days Antigenes (as you heard from Philocles) arrived at Thebes, and there, as many others did, fell in love with Leontina. As he was a man of a very pleasant conversation, of an agreeable disposition, quickwitted, and gallant, he moved so much jealousy in me, as maugre all my endeavours, I could not hide it, and I think that once I made it too apparent unto Leontina, in so much as she was more offended with me for my jealousy, than she was for my love, when I had made it known unto her; so that both to correct and punish me, she treated Antigenes more civilly, then ordinary. In conclusion, the matter was so carried, that though Leontina knew well enough, she did not love Antigenes, yet to be revenged on me, she resolved to treat him more favourably than any. And since her heart was not placed in her forehead, every one believed that she preferred Antigenes before all the test of her Servants: and all my friends at Thebes, came to comfort me; in so much as my sorrows and my spite, made me resolve to overcome my passion: I contended with it, and I vanquished, at least thought so, for I could never look upon Leontina without anger; I shunned her with care, and I thought that I passed from one extremity unto another, and hated her. Then did I desire Polimnis, that we might go and hunt for a certain time at a stately house his father had, about an hundred Leagues from Thebes, beyond Mount Helicon, thither than we went, and my soul, as I thought, was in much tranquillity, and sufficiently disengaged from Leontina.  
Upon a day, a friend of Polimnis invited us to a feast, where we were all in our altitudes of merriment and joy, with divers other persons of quality in that Neighbourhood. That same day, unjust man that I was, in my height of raillery I mocked two or three times, at the complacency of Leontina towards Antigenes, my heart being, as I thought, never better pleased, then when I had handsomely twitted the person whom I hated, or thought I had hated: Then it happened that a man came in, and addressed himself unto me, who had heard all the passages of our discourse concerning her; Sir, said he, Artibies will be sufficiently revenged, for Antigenes shall never enjoy Leontina: How, (said I unto the man) has she quitted him for another, as she did me for him? No, said he, but death has done it for you both. Is Leontina dead? (said I unto him) Yes, replied he, she died at Chalcos, whither her father had carried her: Indeed I understood that she had been in the Isle of Eubeus, for since it is separated from Boetia only by a little Arm of the Sea, the families of quality do make alliances one with another, and Leontina had an Aunt at Chalcos. This man than told me that there came certain news unto Thebes, that Leontina was dead, and that one of his friends assured him in the Ismenian Temple of Apollo, that he saw her Funeral at Chalcos, I looked upon him then, and spoke not a word, and afterwards I left the Company very abruptly with an extremely troubled mind, and knew not what to think on it. I lost myself in a Wood, not far from the house, purposely because Polimnis should not find me; my soul was sadly troubled, my heart was sobbing out my sorrows, and my reason was not against the troubles of my spirit: I would have persuaded myself, that to lose her who had treated me ill, and one whom I hated, was rather a good than a bad misfortune. But alas, my imagination no sooner fancied this adored Lady in her Tomb, but my hatred vanished, and my love revived: I did not any longer consider her as inconstant, or unjust, but did look upon her as the fairest in the world, and as her whom above all upon Earth, I loved, I made some slight attempts to quell my sorrow, but it was impossible for me to do it: and love, since I became past all hopes, returned into my soul with all its vigour: as soon as I apprehended Leontina gone, all other cogitations vanished out of my mind; and despair was so predominant, that I was not a Master of my own actions: I walked sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes I stopped, and spoke aloud, though I was alone, and sometimes shed tears in abundance of bitterness, and sometimes again my heart was so full, that I could neither cry, nor sigh, nor speak: but Polimnis afterwards knowing this news of Leontina's death from the same man, he sought me out, and having found me in a most deplorable condition, and as he told me afterwards, more altered in my face then ever he saw man in his life; What, said he unto me, can the Prince Artibies lament the death of her he hated? and is he more troubled at it then I am, who have more reason to grieve than he? My hatred (said I unto him sighing) is dead with Leontina, and my love is revived to punish me for hating her. Indeed, my grief did cause such a prodigious resentment in my soul, that I never was more deeply plunged in the gulf of love then now, and by consequences never more unfortunate: Two days together, was I in this condition, at the end of which a violent favour seized upon me, but for my cure and comfort, I afterwards understood that this news of Leontina's death was false: and that it was true there was an admirable beauty whose name was also Leontina, was dead at Chalcos, but that she was only a Kinswoman to that Leontina at Thebes; I understood also, that their conformity in name and beauty, had deceived those who had spread abroad the rumour of my dear Leontina's death. Polimnis no sooner knew this, but coming unto me with open Arms; Courage Artibies, (said he unto me, embracing me, and smiling) you must now begin to hate Leontina again, since she is not dead; and then he told me the original of the error, which caused so great a confusion in me, that passing from extreme sorrow, into the contrary extremity of joy, my fever increased, and it was thought I would have died that night following, but the Gods reserved me for a further misery, and restored my health; bringing me also unto Thebes, where I found Leontina alive: I had a desire to hate her still, but it was impossible. Why (said I sometimes unto myself) has this false report, which has wrought no alteration in the heart of Leontina, so much changed mine? yet must I submit, whether I will or no, unto this new revived passion, which has got the dominion of my mind, sometimes I was ashamed, and sometimes again I rejoiced at it: supposing, that to be in the world, and not to love Leontina, was the most high injustice upon Earth. Yet when she was informed by Polimnis, that my love of her was the cause of my Fever (as indeed she did not hate me) she changed her way of living both with Antigenes and myself: and conferred those favours upon me, which she withdrew from him, and if he had not gone out of Thebes presently after, he had found by experience how sad a thing it was to see another better loved then himself.  
I did then mollify the heart of Leontina: she permitted me to express my love unto her, and indeed acknowledged unto me, that if her parents would consent unto it, she would like better to live in Cicilie, then in Greece, though there was a great difference, in the goodness of the Countries: yet was I not without great crosses, for the father of Leontina, would not consent to marry his daughter out of his own country: This obstacle was extremely tormentive, and seemed invincible, for since the father of Leontina would not marry his daughter unto a stranger, the Prince of Cicilie my brother, would not permit me to dwell there as a bare Citizen of Thebes. I was then grieved to see Leontina, persecuted by her parents for the love of me, for I understood that the resistance which they made unto my design, did most sensible grieve her; But yet after ten thousand crosses and thwart Polimnis did so earnestly solicit the matter, as he removed this Remora, and won the parents of Leontina to give her unto me, provided the Prince of Cicilie consented unto my marriage: I immediately sent unto him, and by the mediation of the Princess my mother, who was a Theban, I obtained his consent. Now, you may imagine me the happiest man alive. Leontina was never so fair as then; and since she now lived with me more freely then usual, and expressed such thoughts of her Soul as were advantageous unto me, I thought that never was felicity comparable unto mine. Nothing was thought upon but Feasts and pleasures: All preparations for our marriage were in readiness: as a magnificent Feast, as all rich marriage clothes; a mask also was prepared, and a general Bill was to be kept three days together: In conclusion, that day, which I thought the happiest that ever dawned, did come, and in the morning I saw Leontina in a most glorious dress, who notwithstanding her modesty was pleased to make it appear in her eyes, that she did participate in my joy: She was conducted unto the Temple by her father, and waited upon by all the Ladies in the Town: I also waited upon her, according unto the custom, and was accompanied by all my friends: But as soon as she came to the Altar, she was suddenly taken, as she said, with an extreme pain, and terrible beating at her heart, she was forced to sit down, not being able to kneel any longer: and finding herself very ill, she was forced to complain unto some of her Cousins which were next her: As my eye was always upon her, I saw she grew high coloured, and was very sick. But alas, why should I insist so long upon vain circumstances? Leontina could not accomplish the Ceremony: she was so good as to excuse it unto me, and they carried her home in a chair, where a fever feized suddenly upon her: and notwithstanding her youth, and all the art of Physicians, and notwithstanding all my prayers, the seventh day her disease was at the height: you may suppose that as the terms stood then betwixt us, I had the liberty to see her, during her sickness, at all hours, which handsomeness would permit: I saw her then endure it with admirable patience, and she seemed to be sorry for nothing, but that she was to leave me: she did hide a great part of her pain from me, lest it should too much grieve me: and though she thought to die, ever since the first minute of her falling sick, yet would she not speak a word of her death unto me, until the last day of her life: Oh most dismal and unhappy day! I saw her then endure and hardly complain, and I received from her own dear mouth, a thousand assurances of a most innocent, and pure affection: she desired me to continue mine unto her memory, after her death: and after she had invoked the Gods, she commanded me to submit, as she herself did, unto their will; her speech failed, yet she still looked upon me; and after her sight was also gone, yet she held her hand out, and weak as she was she gave it unto me; then breathing out a deep sigh, she expired, not losing one jot of her beauty, nor struggling into any unseemly posture. Ask me not, Oh my just Judge, what I did or what I thought, since you may well imagine, that a man who grieved for her whom he was not loved, and wept for her whom he thought he hated her, would be absolutely desperate, when he saw her dying, before his eyes, at such a time when he was beleved, and steady to enjoy her; I apprehended it so sadly, that if Polimnis had not been, I had killed myself at the first minute of my sorrow; but his care of me was so great, that I may almost call him the cause of all my sorrows I have suffered since that time, and of all those I shall suffer hereafter: I thought the face of the whole Universe was altered: I looked not upon any thing as I was wont, or to say better, I saw nothing but Leontina either dead or dying: when they took me away by force from that fair Corpse, her image did follow me in all places: and drooping as I was it appeared to my fancy in a hundred different manners: her Tomb was more sacred unto me, than the Temple: her Name as holy as Angels; and my sorrows were so sweet unto me, that I hated all them that would comfort me: Although the places where I had been with her, did augment my grief, yet did I frequently visit them: Those whom she did tenderly love were they only whom I could endure, and although I had been alone in the world, I could not have been more sadly solitary, and whosoever has not tried what it is to see her whom he loves, die, doubtless do not know the most supreme misfortune. I do confess absence to be a great misery, but what kind of absence can be comparable unto that eternal and terrible absence, which is never to return, which carries the party beloved into such obscure and dark Cells as humane spirits cannot enter: and into such sad and doleful places, from whence no news of her is ever to be hoped for: Truly my apprehensions are so strange, as oft as I imagine, that the most fair and perfect Leontina should be no more than an heap of ashes; that I am astonished, any should offer to contend with me for the first place amongst unfortunate men. I know very well, that not to be loved is a grand misfortune, but to lose her whom one loves, and to lose her for ever, is a far greater: for he who is not loved, does wish and desire a happiness which he never had any trial of, nor does he know the sweets belonging unto love; whereas to see her (who honoured a man with her affection) to die, is to lose a Treasure which he possessed, and whose riches he knew how to value: Moreover, the worst treated Lover in the world may yet comfort up his heart with some hopes, which he, whose Mistress is in her Tomb, can never have: his soul is abandoned of all comforts, and remains in such a horrid despair, as certainly is inconceiveably by any but such as had had experience of it: nor am I ignorant that jealousy is a terrible torment; yet whosoever shall well consider the cause of jealousy, shall find, that fear to lose her he loves, is it which causeth his disquiet: for if he were assured, he should never lose his Mistress, his soul would be terene, not would he care a pin for having an hundred Rivals: Moreover, a jealous lover may find out an hundred ways to busy himself in, out of which he may find out some comfort: But to see her one loves in her coffin, is such a miserable object as leaves the soul in so sad an unquietness, as is a thousand times worse than all the pains in the world he knows not whither to go, nor what to do; all the Universe is indifferent unto him: The more pleasant the time past was unto him, the more insupportable it makes the present, and all the time of his life which is to come, has nothing sweet, but his hopes of death. Moreover, jealousy being a passion, which of its own nature is mutable, various, changing, and uncertain; it produces fear and hope an hundred times in a day, and by consequence admits of some relaxation of mind: But the death of the party loved is a torment continually rigorous, which no time can ever remove: for indeed, though I should live out an hundred Ages, yet would Leontina be the same unto me, as now she is, dead: 'Slight, petty sorrows may be lessened by habit, custom, and time; but grand, and violent afflictions, the longer they last, the more insupportable they are, and more augment: Let me further tell you, that the impossibility to find a remedy for such a sorrow, is only a cause of consolation in the mouths of Philosophers; but in the soul of a Lover, it is the greatest torment of all others: Yes, yes, that horrid thought, that all the Kings upon Earth, that all the valour of Heroes, that all humane Prudence, cannot revive a dead beloved Mistress, is that which properly can be called an abridgement of all the sorrows which love can cause: Pronounce the sentence then, Oh my most just Judge, that I am the most worthy of your pity, by reason of great misfortune; and I shall confess that the miseries of Thimocrates, of Philocles, and of Leontidas, do more deserve your pity, than mine does, in respect of their own personal merits, so that rendering justice both unto the misfortue, and the misfortunate, I shall have less cause to complain of your Equity, than I have to complain of my Destiny.  
The Prince Artibies ended his discourse with so much sadness of heart, that he had much ado to pronounce the last words distinctly, so extremely did the remembrance of Leontina's death perplex his mind: his melancholy did participate itself unto all the souls of that Illustrious Company: and he forced compassion, even from them that contended with him, for the first Rank amongst the unfortunate: Notice was taken of his ingenious and passionate silence, by which he concealed the rest of his adventures, since the death of the fair one whom he loved; as if he would tacitly intimate unto them, that since her death he did not value his own life. After that melancholy humour, which this fatal Story had caused in their minds, was a little dissipated, every one maintained his own opinion, and that with obstinate heat. But Cyrus, seeing it was late, told Martesia, that it was time Leontidas related his adventure and reasons, if she intended to pronounce judgement that day, so that as a Judge imposing silence, she appointed Leontidas to begin: which accordingly he did in this manner.   

The jealous Lover: The fourth Story.  
SInce Sorrow has its different operations, according to the several tempers of those who are possessed with it; since it is sometimes mute, and sometimes eloquent, you must not wonder, if it work not in me, as it does in the Prince Artibies, who by reason of his excess of sorrow, has shortened his relation: But I, who am none of those whom sorrow makes dumb, and who on the contrary never speaks but when I have great cause of complaint, cannot do so; nor can I, as I conceive, in few words express the greatness of my sufferings. I shall be as little impertinent as I can, and therefore in short, give me leave to tell you, that the Isle of Cyprus is my Country, and that I have the honour to be of a Family sufficiently illustrious; I shall hereafter tell you, that I went out of this famous Isle which is consecrated unto the Mother of love, so young, that I had not time to fall in love with any: for the war which was then between the people of Samos, of Priennes, and of Miletes, moving me to learn there, that mystery, which the drowsy peace of my Country could not teach me, I left it; and in my choice of these three Countries, the fame of the valiant Polycrates, who was made Sovereign in the Isle of Samos, did invite me into his, though perhaps his cause was not the most just, unless you will allow the Right of Conquerors, to be the most ancient of all others. So then, it was in this famous Isle, and in the Court of this illustrious Prince, where my Love took first beginning, and where my jealousy has treated me cruelly. The reputation of the happy Polycrates is so great, that I need not characterise him unto you; yet notwithstanding shall in few words tell you, that justice would have much ado to find a man in all Greece more accomplished than he, nor more fit to distribute his favours with more equity, rendering himself most perfectly happy, without giving cause of murmur unto any. He is as never man before was; for he is born only a Citizen of Samos, and he is become Sovereign of the same without hate: he has all the Authority of a most absolute Tyrant, yet he enjoys the love of his people as much as if he were their Father: All designs of war are prosperous under his hands; he is become terrible, not only in the Ionian, but through all the Aegean Sea; The greatest Kings think it an honour to be his Allies, and all his Neighbours both love and fear him: he is very handsome, of a good presence, and great Spirit, of a disposition, as sweet in time of peace, as it is furious in time of war: you may well suppose then, that the Court of Polycrates must be very delightful and gallant; since it is commonly like as the Prince, so is his Court: when I arrived at Samos, he was ready to embark, and to go and fight with the Prince of the Milesians; so that after I was presented unto him, by a man of quality, named Theanor, whom I knew at Paphos, I embarked the next day with him, before I had seen any in Samos, but only Officers of Galleys, with one of which called Timesias, I had a quarrel at my embarking, and two other small squabbles during the voyage: This expedition was not long, but very prosperous; and we returned Conquerors over those we fought against. Polycrates at his return unto Samos, was entertained with high magnificence: and since I had so much happy honour to get some part of his love during our Navigation, so had I also some share in those delights which he was pleased to to take at his return. The same night I came to Samos, after all the magnificence which was prepared for the entry of Polycrates was passed, Theanor whom I affected as much as I was averse unto Timasias, would needs show me, as a stranger, all the ratities of the Town. He carried me into the Temple of June, unto whom that Island was consecrated, which doubtless is one of the greatest and fairest in the world, and which they more esteemed at Samos, because the Architect who built it was a Samion: from thence we walked towards a famous Watercourse, which surpasseth the greatest wonder that ever I saw in the world; for it runs through a Mountain which is an hundred fathom high, upon the top of which is a way made, which is above seven furlongs in length, and eight foot wide: at the end of this way is digged a pond about twenty Cubits deep, and from this most clear and abundant fountain they conduct water into the Town: after I had well admired at this prodigious work of Eupalina, (for the undertaker of this Watercourse who was of Magares, was so called) we came into the Town, and went to walk upon a Hill, some twenty fathom high, and two furlongs in length, and above, which extends towards the Sea, and railed on both sides with Balasters of Corinthian Copper, which makes the goodliest object in the world when one comes to Samos: 〈◊〉 much to know the beginning of Autumn, and the season of the year most pleasant, a great number of Ladies resorted thither to walk towards the Evening, as it was the custom of they Country: at this time they came in greater numbers then ordinary, for since we had taken four Galleys from the enemy, it was a kind of honour unto Polycrates to be desirous of seeing those marks of his victory: All the Ladies therefore of Samos came thither where we were; all the men of quality, as well those that had been the Voyage, as those which stayed behind, came thither also: The Prince Polycrates himself did take a turn or two, and indeed I never saw so glorious a sight, as this walk, and those in it: The Sea was all serenity, and though the Sun was set, yet was there day and light enough to discern the beauty of all the Ladies: since I knew none of them as yet, I looked upon them all with indifferency; I was much pleased to see some leaning over these stately Balisters, and beholding the Galleys gained from the enemy; and others less curious, but more solitary, looking only upon the open Sea: some compliment which such Captains as they had not seen since their return; others in more serious and private conference; others again without any design but to see, and be seen, walked by Troops, and the general design of all was to walk, and talk, and take the pleasure of the Evening. Theanor was not a little troubled in telling me the names of all the beauties; for as for all the rest, I spared him the labour of information: since this divertisement was new unto me, and that it was long since I saw any Ladies, I made it late before I could resolve upon departure, yet the night drawing on by little and little, we could hardly distinguish one another: but yet many men came still in, because the Moon began to rise.  
Theanor having left me to speak unto some Lady; I walked a while alone, and after several turns, walking behind two men, whom I did not think I had known, I saw something white fall from the pocket of one of them: my first thought was to tell him, but not knowing any reason why, my second was to take up that which I saw fall, and afterwards to give it him, after I had seen what it was: stooping then presently, and finding what I sought for, I looked, and saw as well as the obscurity of the night would permit, that it was a Case of a Picture: The time while I took it up, and looking what it was, also considering whether I should look in it, or restore it before I looked, was so long, that he who had lost it, did mingle among other company: so that in lieu of seeing two men before me, I saw a Troop of Ladies, and found it impossible to restore that which I had found unto the right owner: after this I looked for Theanor, to tell him my adventure, but the darkness of the night had so separated us, that we could not meet, but staying no longer, I went unto the house where I lodged at my first coming to Samos, my Servants according to my orders staying there for me, I went in all haste with a longing curiosity to see what I had found: I was no sooner come into my Chamber, but going unto the Table, and the Candle, I began to look upon this Picture which I had pulled out of my pocket, as I came up the stairs, that I might sooner see it; and I found that it was Gold with a circle of Rubies and Diamonds round about it: and I did not stand any longer looking upon it, though it was very curious and rich, but opening the lid hastily, I was more dazzled at the splendent beauty of what I found within it, than I was at the lustre of those jewels which adorned this Case: I found there the picture of a young and a fair woman, but so fresh and lively, that I did not conceive it a flattering piece: and one might easily see by the excellency of the Art, that the Limner took delight in drawing after so fair a Model: It must be confessed, that nothing upon earth could be more beautiful than this picture: I looked upon it therefore with admiration; and calling to mind the Ideas of all which I had seen fair in the walk, I could not remember I had seen that Lady whom this Picture resembled, and indeed she was not there: I opened, and shut this Case several times, being not able to forbear looking, and admiring at so fair a thing, afterwards I began to pity him who lost it, and sometimes also; I envied him; for I imagined that it was given unto him, and I esteemed him so infinitely happy in being loved by so fair a Lady, that I was troubled at it: yet at the last I went to bed and slept, but it was not without a dream of this picture which I found; I rose the next morning very early, but with so hot a curiosity to know the Lady whose shadow this was, and him who had this so considerable loss, that my curiosity might almost be termed jealousy: I dressed myself in all haste, and I went unto Theanor, who was ready to go out of his lodging: he excused himself for losing me last night in the crowd, but giving him no time to continue his compliment, and not taking any notice of his melancholy I told him that our separation was so happy unto me, as I had rather cause to thank, the● complain against him; for (said I, showing him the Case and Picture) see what I found last night, and help me, I conjure you, to discover who that happy Lover is, who has been so unhappy, as to lose so precious a jewel, a 〈…〉 ards the Name of this beauty, if you know it. Theanor blushed at the sight of the picture, and after he had taken it in his hand, he was a long time looking upon it, as if he had not known the party it resembled, but urging him to speak, As for the name of this fair Lady, said he unto me, if you were not a stranger in Samos, you would not be ignorant of it: for the fair Aloidamia has rendered it too famous, to be unknown unto all that have any reasonable Souls in our Island: but as for that happy lover, as you call him, who lost it, I know him not, but perhaps, said he, this picture was bestowed upon some of her friends: But said I unto him, it was a man who let it fall, and not a lady; That may be also, replied he, for she has several Cousins, whom she might bestow a picture upon, without any scandal unto her honour: but if you will follow my advice, said he, you shall not show this picture unto any, lest you should make so fair a Lady your enemy: It is not my intention (said I unto him) to provoke her, but I have a very great desire to know this Lady whom this picture represents: I shall better inform myself, said he unto me, and then I shall render you an account, but in the mean while, speak not a word of this picture, but if you please leave it in my hands, for I believe it will be as safe, in mine, as yours: for, said he, I have a kind of fear you cannot for bear showing it unto some or other. I promise you, said I unto him, neither to speak of it or show it unto any; but pardon me if I do not render it unto any but him who lost it; and that too but unwillingly, for it does infinitely please me. Theanor used all his arguments, that he might keep it, but I did so obstinately deny it, that he was forced to be contented: after which we went unto Polycrates at Court, and with him unto the Temple. After dinner, this Prince did me the honour to present me unto the Princess Hersilea his sister, who was a Lady most admirably accomplished, with whom there was then many Ladies, and amongst the rest, one named Meneclida, with whom it was said Polycrates was in love. There also did I see the wonder of the world Alcidamia, so admirably fair, that I never saw any so amiable. The Princess Hersilea willing to grace a new Favourite of the Kings, did place me next this glorious beauty, whose Soul did so powerfully second the charms of her face, that I could no longer preserve my freedom. Theanor coming into the company, and seeing me next Alcidamia, seemed unto me, as if he were troubled at it, yet did not then take any notice of it: and my mind was also so much disordered, that Alcidamia had not any reason to think my conversation very agreeable. Which of all these (said I in myself, in looking upon all the men which followed Polycrates to his sister) is that both happy and unfortunate lover who has lost this picture which I have found?  
Afterwards I began to think how much this Lady would be astonished, if I should show her this picture which I had about me: afterwards I bethought myself, how infortunate that man would be, who should fall in love with so fair a Lady as this, whose heart might perhaps be already engaged: and indeed I had a thousand several thoughts in a short time, and it may be almost said, that jealousy, which uses to follow love in others, did precede it in me, since it is certain that I found all the symptoms of jealousy in me, before ever I gave her any testimony of my love any manner of way: I enquired very diligently of all the lovers of Alcidamia, hoping to find out him unto whom this picture belonged: but those of whom I enquired told me, That there was not a man of quality in all Samos which loved her not, so that all my conjectures finding no foundation, but (said I unto them) has she not made choice of any? That is a thing (said they) not easily to be discovered, for Alcidamia is wise, and able to disguise her thoughts if she please; all we can say is, that if she have any Favourite, her discretion conceals him, since it is certain there goes no rumour of any about the Court. Thus did two or three days pass away, during which time I often saw Alcidamia either with the Princess, or in the Temple, or walking, or at her own house, for I urged Theanor to carry me thither: I say I urged him, for he excused it as much as he could: Mean while, I was continually conjuring him to tell me if he could, to whom the picture of Alcidamia belonged, and he always answered me, that this unprofitable curiosity ought at the least to be well intended; and that though he did know whose it was, yet would he never tell me, unless I would promise him before hand to make good use of that knowledge, and not incense Alcidamia by it. Since I did not yet think I should be fettered in the chains of love, I promised him what he desired: so that a few days after, he came one morning unto my chamber, and seeming to be very joyful, Leontidas, said he unto me, I have at last discovered him, unto whom the picture which you found belongs, and he is a person of so high a quality as you have reason to rejoice that it is in your power to do him so great a favour as to restcre it. I blushed at this discourse of Theanor, who seeing me change my colour, changed himself also, and asked me why I did not thank him, and satisfy his curiosity and desire? It is Theanor, answered I, because I have altered my mind, and now do fear as much to know who is the owner, as I desired it before; and my reason is, because I cannot yet resolve to restore it: But I am engaged that you shall, (answered Theanor much surprised) for I did not think you desired to know the owner, with any intention to do him so much injustice. But yet Theanor, (said I unto him) I beseech you who is the owner? I must not tell you, replied he, since you will not restore it: The party who permitted me to trust you with this secret, did not allow me to acquaint you, but upon condition you will restore it, for otherwise it is not just to acquaint you with such a secret as this. But said I unto him, is he who owes this picture in love with Alcidamia? Desperately, replied he: And was this picture given him by that fair Lady? When you have restored it me, replied he, you shall know that, but until then, I have no commission to tell you any thing. Cruel friend, replied I unto him, I had rather have this picture then your secret, and if I restore it unto any, it shall be rather to the party who gave it, then to him who lost it: Oh Leontidas, said Theanor, I beseech you do not as you say, unless you intent most absolutely to disoblige me. As we were thus talking, one came and told me, that Polycrates asked for me, so that I was constrained to leave Theanor: but, oh Heavens, how melancholy was I all that day! for indeed after this which Theanor told me, I doubted not but my conjectures were well grounded, and that this picture was not given by Alcidamia unto him that lost it. I began to perceive also that I was not right master of my reason; and I resolved to love Alcidamia notwithstanding all will or reason, or any thing else. Am I not very inconsiderate (said I unto myself) to suffer such a growing passion without any opposite, which most apparently will cost me abundance of sorrow? I know that Alcidamia has fixed her love, and what would I obtain of her? Shall Leontidas suffer a Rival to rest in the heart of this beauty? or shall he drive him out? But who is the Rival, said I? alas, alas, I know him not at all; perhaps it is some man, who is unworthy of such an honour; perhaps it is Theanor himself, and whosoever it be, said I, he is not over passionate a lover, since he does not make himself known by his death, after such a loss: All this while Theanor was no more at rest than I, for, to discover the truth unto you, he was in love with Alcidamia, and it was himself who lost this picture, though he durst not confess it unto me: for since I was very young, he durst not trust too much unto my discretion, but thought to screw this picture out of my hands by craft, and under the name of another: and observing indeed that I was become his Rival, he knew not what course to take, so that both of us were much perplexed, for Theanor knew that Alcidamia would extremely hate him, if she should know he had lost this picture, and I also feared as extremely that it was his. Then did I inquire of several persons, whether Theanor was in love with Alcidamia, and to my sorrow I found he was: you may then imagine how much I was troubled at it, for I was obliged to love him, both by my own inclination, by reason, and indeed by duty, since indeed he had done me many great favours towards Polycrates, and had taken my part with much zeal against Timasias, of whom I spoke before, so that I found it against the Law of generosity, not to resist my passion; and I strove with all my power to give a check unto myself, but all in vain, for love did so much, and so absolutely command my Soul, and so much withdrew my affection from Theanor, that I was often in a wonderful confusion. Alcidamia was then ever predominate in my heart, and it was more easy for me to quit my friend, than her whom without any comparison I loved more than he: All my business was then to colour this infidelity, and to that end I thought it best to acquaint him first with my passion, feigning to be ignorant of his. I went unto him, and found him in his chamber more unquiet than myself, for he began to suspect me for his Rival. Theanor, for aught I see (said I unto him) is as melancholy as Leontidas, though doubtless he be not so amorous. Since we have been almost always in the wars together, ever since we were acquainted (answered he very coldly) we never discoursed but of gallant matters, and I do not know, why you should now suppose that you are more amorous than I, or that I cannot be so much as you. My meaning is (said I unto him, a little dampt, for I knew that what I did was not very generous) that if it be as true you love any Lady violently, as it is certain I do most desperately love the incomparable Alcidamia, I shall extremely pity you, as I desire you to pity me. I thought (replied Theanor with such a coldness as much surprised me) that your heart could not avoid the charms of that beauty: But Leontidas (said he after a little study) you are not he alone who loves that enchanting Lady, and that picture which you found, ought (me thinks) to have nipped your growing passion in the bud. But quite contrary, said I unto him, it is that which makes it grow the faster, for when I do not see Alcidamia, than I do look upon it, and it preserves the memory of her beauty so fresh in my Soul, that I can never forget it. After this, Theanor was a while silent; afterwards assuming a more serious countenance, he told me, that loving me as he did, he was very sorry to see me engaged in a love which would cost me much sorrow, and that if it were permitted him to name the Rival unto whom that picture belonged, he should make me acknowledge, that I ought not any longer to continue loving Alcidamia: Though you should make me acknowledge it, said I unto him, yet all would be in vain, because my passion does not depend upon my will: though it should be yourself which is that happy Rival you speak of, or though it should be Polycrates himself, yet must I continue loving Alcidamia: Love then Alcidamia, said he unto me blushing, but never hope to be so soon loved again, and do not persuade yourself that she will ever give you her Picture; for I can assure you, that he who is owner of that which you have, did not obtain it without abundance of sorrow and trouble, although she do not hate him unto whom she gave it.  
Cruel friend, said I unto him, why do you infuse as much jealousy as love in me? Because, replied he, I would cure your love by your jealousy. No no, said I unto him, that's not the way to destroy it, and the more you make me know that Alcidamia does favour that happy Rival, the greater envy and desire shall I have to distrub his felicity, and the more resolutely shall I continue loving Alcidamia. Let me tell you once again, said he unto me, you may continue loving Alcidamia, but let me also tell you once again, that you shall not be so soon loved: I confess that this coldness of Theanor made me almost despair: for after I had consulted with my reason, I concluded that this coldness of his proceeded from his confident assurance of the affection of Aleidamia, so that not looking upon Theanor any longer as an officious friend, with whom I should keep any good correspondence, but I looked upon him as a Rival in favour, and by consequence as a mortal enemy: so that changing my design, my countenance, and my voice, In the Name of the Gods, Theanor, said I unto him, tell me the name of him who is owner of this Picture, that I may exactly know whom to hate: I cannot, replied he, until you have restored the Picture of Alcidamia. The Picture of Alcidamia, (said I, not knowing almost what I said, since jealousy had so troubled all my senses,) No no, I cannot do it at the price of that Secret, which I desire to know; for not desiring to know the name of my Rival, but with intentions to remove him out of the heart of Alcidamia, I shall not restore him this Picture. However (said Theanor) I beseech you promise one just desire, which is, not to show this Picture unto any; since thereby you do more wrong unto Alcidamia, then to your Rival, who I believe will not become your enemy, until he see, that you find more favour than himself. I confess then, that I thought to have laid aside all patience, but several people coming in, we parted at that time, and I went from Theanor, the most sad and melancholy man alive. Certainly, said I, this cruel friend thinks himself so sure of Alcidamia's heart, that he is in no fear to lose it: or else he scorns Leontidas so much, that he cares not for his being a Rival. But it may be, said I, that my conjectures may deceive me, and those who told me that Theanor loved Alcidamia, may be deceived themselves. At the last, I concluded, that either Theanor did not love Alcidamia, or else that he was loved: I wished the Gods, that it might prove the first of these. I being in these uncertainties, I resolved to satisfy myself a little better, and to talk unto this fair Lady, and to discourse of several things concerning Theanor, thereby, if possible, to discover the truth, so that not thinking to make my own passion known unto her, I endeavoured only to discourse concerning my Rival: I went then unto the Princess Hirsilea, where I knew she would be; and after that several people were come in, and gone out again, at the last I addressed myself unto Alcidamia, who according to her usual custom, entertained me with much civility; presently after, Polycrates came in, and almost all the men of quality in Samos followed him, except Theanor, who melancholy retained him at home: after a little while of general discourse, Polycrates having some private business with the Princess his Sister, took her to the window which opened unto the Main Sea, and left me an opportunity to execute my design; me thought also that Alcidamia did contribute her willingness unto it, though truly, it was in such a manner as did add unto my unquietness: As it was but a little while that I had yet been at Samos, she had no reason to speak unto me concerning any thing, but general things; and as she had observed that Theanor was more friendly unto me then any other, so she was readier to entertain discourse with me, than those with whom I had yet no particular acquaintance. After than we two had been a while together, and said nothing one to another, What have you done with your friend, said she unto me, and how comes it to pass Theanor is not here, now all the Court is present? This unexpected question surprised me; and I could not hear the name of my Rival from the mouth of Alcidamia without a blush: for truly, though I intended to speak concerning Theanor, yet did I not think she would begin the first. Madam, said I unto her, I have left him in his Chamber so melancholy, that at the present I did not think his humour fit for company. You ●re then a very ill friend, said she unto me smiling, to leave your friend in such a case. It was because his humour was so sullen (said I unto her) that my presence was trouble some unto him, and perhaps also more then another's would be: In truth, Leontidas, replied she, you vex me, for Theanor is a very complete gallant man, and if any great misfortune should befall him, I should be extremely sorry. Madam (said I, more unquiet, more curious, and none jealous then ever,) Since I have been but a while at Sames, I cannot be well acquainted with the news of the place; but you, who knows all, I suppose you are not ignorant, that Theanor's disease, as I think, proceeds from a violent passion. Aloidamia thinking then, that I would speak in behalf of Theanor, changed her colour, and looking upon me more seriously than before; I knew not, said she, that your friend was in love, neither do I think he is but indeed Leontidas, if there be no other cause of his melancholy, but that, I should not pity him so much as I do: It is because perhaps, (said I, and looked more attentively upon her) you know he is not to be pitied, but that he is loved by the party whom he loves. I know not, answered she, whether he be loved or hated, for I am neither his Mistress, nor his Confident. I wish the Gods that half you say were true, (said I, interrupting her very sharply) for Leontidas would then be much more happy than he is. Leontidas (said she smiling) was born in that Isle which was consecrated unto the Mother of Love, where Gallantry is Law, where they never speak of any thing but love; and where the Ladies are never entertained with any discourse but such as obliging, sweet, and flattering: but we who reverence another Deity, are less gallant than they, and also, if you please to have it so, something more severe, I must tell you as a stranger, that you must not mention any such things unto our Ladies, who would perhaps be more offended at you then I am, because they do not know how to excuse the e●stom of your Country as I do: All your Ladies? (replied I hastily) Ah Divine Alcidamia, you do not know Leontidas, if you think he will ever say unto any other but you, that he is desperately in love. Seriously Leontidas, said she, either correct this ill habit which you have brought over with you, or I shall complain unto your friend, and desire him to break you off it, if it be possible. He cannot, answered I, though he should attempt it. Then must I fly your company, replied she, until such time as you have better learned our customs. It is the custom Madam, for all that, replied I, to adore such beauties as you: And it is also the general custom of all places, replied she, except Cyprus, that those beauties of whom you speak are glorious, noble, and severe, and will not suffer any discourse of such things. But is it possible, replied I, that all the beauties in Samos should be inexorable? Was there never any that would suffer themselves to be loved, and have permitted hopes that they themselves would hereafter love? and have bestowed their pictures upon their servants, and have been complacential many other ways unto such as they have accepted on? I know not, (said she, wondering why I should use this odd discourse;) or if I did, their example shall never be followed by Alcidamia. But however Leontidas, let me once more entreat you to leave off this ill custom, if you have a mind to enjoy any of my company. Alcidamia spoke this in such a manner, as I was afraid she would banish me her conversation: and since my jealousy persuaded me that she was so severe unto me only because she would be more faithful unto my Rival, even very spite made me entertain love still in my heart, so that beginning to speak again, If it be only an ill habit, said I unto her, you would be unjust to think it possible I can lay it off upon a sudden; therefore Madam, I conjure you to allow me some certain days to unaccustom myself: Alcidamia, who was very glad to turn the discourse into raillery, said, that she would allow me the rest of the day: but I used so many arguments, and urged her so much, that I obtained eight days, after which I was not to speak a word of my passion, or love, she telling and laughing, that she would complain unto Theanor, if I broke my word. Thus 〈◊〉 lieu of speaking of my Rival, Alcidamia spoke first unto me; and in lieu of discovering 〈◊〉 thoughts of him, I declared my love unto her: In my going out from the Princess, I thought myself for a while to be very happy in that I had let her know I loved her: but when called to mind all that Alcidamia said unto me, I observed that she changed colour as 〈◊〉 she heard Theanor named, and that I had no cause to doubt but that she loved him: then 〈◊〉 I become extremely restless in my mind, and if I had not had some obligations upon me 〈…〉 wards Theanor, I believe I should have found out more violent ways to satisfy myself, th●● those I took: yet not well knowing what course to take, I was most restlessly miserable What will it advantage me, said I, to have the Picture of Alcidamia, if Theanor have 〈◊〉 heart? Give over then, that design which may bring into an hundred inconveniences. 〈◊〉 perhaps, said I afterwards, this Picture was stolen from her, yet if it was so, yet certainly 〈◊〉 was stolen by some that was in love with her; and though it were happy for me if it 〈◊〉 so, yet it is a great misfortune to be Rival unto a man who hath obliged me: All this wh 〈…〉 the soul of Theanor was no more quiet than mine: for as I told you before, he was Passionately in love with Alcidamia: from whom, as I understood afterwards, he had not obtained any thing: not but that the Picture which I found was his, but it was not given him by Alcidamia, who knew not that he had it; for be pleased to know that she caused it to be made, and gave it unto a friend of hers named Acasta, and indeed, it was she who was the owner of it. But within a little while after, Policrater being ready to embark for a fresh war, every one went to take leave of their acquaintance, and a great number of quality went unto Acasta, to bid her adieu; and amongst others, Theanor came, as she was newly gone out to make a visit; and when he found none below, he went into her Chamber, and found upon the Table the Picture of Alcidamia, which she had forgot to take with her; so that loving her, as he did, and being ready to depart out of Samos, he did, as I think myself should have done, if I had been in his room; that is, he took this picture, and not the Case, which indeed was too much to be taken, and went out so happily, that he was not seen by any. Presently after, Timascas who was a Cousin to Acasta, came unto the house, and found none in it also; he went into his Cousins, and found it as Theanor left it, that was, all open, and the Case of the Picture upon the Table, which he had forgot to shut: so that Timasias, who was also in love with Alcidamia, and had seen it often in the hands of his Cousin, wondered why the Picture was not in it: so that knocking to cause some to come unto him, he asked how it came to pass that the Case should lie upon the Table without the Picture? The women, much surprised at it, told them that they knew not, but said, they saw it there since their Mistress went out; afterwards they accused Timasias, being a Lover of Alcidamia, for taking it, and began to desire him that he would put it in again: he denied very hotly, and in the mean while Acasta returned, and heard of the business: at the first, she believed as her women did, and imagined that her Cousin, whom she knew to be much in love with Alcidamia, had taken it, and say what he could, she would believe no other, insomuch as she was extremely angry with him: yet since he swore so deeply, that he took it not, that she enquired who else came into the house. But her women, to excuse themselves of their negligence, did swear, and protest, as also all the rest of the Domestics, ●that there came none thither, but Timasias. Yet Theanor, to take away all suspicion of him, returned unto Acasta to bid her adieu, and not mentioning his being there before, she complained unto him of her loss, but he gave a crafty in lieu of a comforting answer, that if he had lost it, he should die for sorrow: In conclusion, he departed with his concealed treasure, and making another Case which he had to serve for that Picture, for all those Pictures are made almost of one size, he embarked as well pleased as Timasias was angry; for he imagined that it was some of his Rivals who had stolen this Picture.  
In the mean while Alcidamia hearing of it, did at the first suspect that Acasta had given it unto her Cousin: But Acasta made it appear that it was otherwise, for she being persuaded that it was he who took it, she quite fell out with him at his return. Alcidamia for her part, took it extremely ill he should be so bold as to commit such a theft, and treated him very ill every time he spoke unto her after his return. As she was upon very civil terms with Theanor, though she did not much favour him, so she complained unto him, as she did unto others, and seemed to be so extremely offended at the Presumption of Timasias, that he durst never tell her it was himself who was the thief, fearing to ineur that hatred, which she bore unto his Rival, who was the same man that became my enemy the first day I arrived at Samos. You see then, how Theanor not being any extraordinary Favourite, came unto the Picture of Alcidamia, for I came to know of all these passages most exactly afterwards: and you see also the reason why he would not tell me the Picture was his, which was, because he certainly knew Alcidamia would hate him as soon as she knew it. At the first my young years only did restrain him, but afterwards when he found that I was in love with Alcidamia, than he thought good to possess me with an imagination that she was in love, and that she had given this Picture unto some one, hoping thereby to avert me from my passion: he perceived, that though he had confessed unto me he loved her, yet that I would not give over loving her since I told him of it; so that, having no mind to fight with me, nor to ruin himself in the opinion of Alcidamia, by confessing it was he who stole the Picture, or by telling me a lie that she did give it unto him, he was as far from knowing what resolution to pitch upon as I was: and for some days we shunned one another with as much care as we sought for one another before. During which time, I saw Alcidamia, as oft as I could possible: and presuming upon that privilege which she had given me, I discoursed of my passiotate love unto her, and she seemed always to think, that it was only a habit of speaking which moved me to express myself so unto her, bidding me to remember that I reckoned the days aright, which she had allotted me. Yet being a whole day, and not seeing her, I went to walk by myself in the public Gardens of the Town, which are as full of beauty as those of Polycrates: and to contemplate with more freedom, I took a close walk, where having a desire to look upon the Picture of Alcidamia, I took it out of my pocket, and finding a convenient Seat, I began to consider it with much delight, but presently after I looked upon it with much melancholy, considering the cruel doom she had pronounced against him who lost it; and I think my jealousy moved me to pronounce some words, which moved Timasias, who unknown to me was walking in another Alley close by mine, to look who it was which spoke; for since I spoke but with a half voice, and had uttered but three or four words, he did not know me by my voice: he came then close up to the walk where I was, and looking through the thick leaves, he saw the Picture, and knew it to be of Alcidamia, and the same which she had heretofore given unto Acasta, and the very same that he took away; for he knew that Alcidamia had never suffered her picture to be taken but that once. Since it was but a little time that I had been in Samos, and since I had never any familiarity with Timasias since out last difference, he never perceived that I was in love with Alcidamia, so that he was extremely surprised to see the Picture of her he loved in the hands of his enemy, and a Picture also which had caused Alcidamia to hate him, and the same which every one thought he stole: That which did most amaze him, was, because he thought I was not acquainted with either Alcidamia, or Acasta, and since it was lost before I came unto Samos, so that he could not tell what to think of this adventure: yet being resolved to be further satisfied, he went hastily unto the end of that walk where I was, and found me so attentive in looking upon that Picture which I held in my hand, as all I could do was to shut the Case before he was close at me: since we were upon terms of civility, though there was no great love betwixt us, I rose up when he came near me, and after a cold salute, I offered to continue on my walk without staying with him, when he accosting me with a troubled aspect, Leontidas, said he unto me, although you are none of my intimate friends, yet since you are a man of honour, I hope you will tell me one truth, which much imports me, and which I much desire to know from you. I know not replied I, whether I shall tell you that truth which you desire to know, but I am certain, I shall not tell you a lie. Tell me then, said he, who gave you the Picture of Alcidamia, which by chance I saw in your hands as I was walking in the Alley joining unto this. Though so much curiosity, said I unto him, as you have to observe my actions, does not perhaps deserve so much sincerity, yet I shall tell you, that fortune only gave it unto me, and that I am not beholding unto any for it. Timasias' hearing this answer, did think I would not tell him what I knew; so that being angry, I knew very well (answered he) that you have more cause to thank fortune for it, than the incomparable Alcidamia, who questionless would not give it you; but I ask, by what accident did blind fortune put it into your hands? Since I am not obliged (answered I with a much incensed spirit, because I had some suspicion Timasias was my Rival) to tell you all the truths I know, and that in the quality of a man of honour, I am only engaged to tell you no lie, I will not tell you any more, think what you please. But you shall tell me (replied he roughly) of whom you had that Picture. Leontidas (answered I, and looked fiercely upon him) was never used to 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which he has not any mind to have known, especially unto men who are not in the Catalogue of my friends. Then as your enemy (replied he, and laid his hand upon his Sword) I will make you acknowledge who gave you that Picture, and also compelyou to restore it. No sooner had he said so, but without any return, I drew my Sword, and we began to fight: As he was very nimble, and I very lucky, we fought a good while without any hurt, but I coming close unto him, after I had given him a slight touch in the left Arm, we disputed the victory very stiffly; when we were in the heat of fight, and I had got so much advantage, as to present my Sword unto his breast, to make him acknowledge my victory, Polycrates coming to walk there, entered; and followed by abundance of others, amongst the rest Theanor, who was the first who came in to part us. The fury wherein then I was to see that my old Enemy, and new Rival, should be pulled out of my hands, made me begin to quarrel with Theanor: But Polycrates coming in, I was forced to change my course, and to ask him pardon, for, contrary to his Orders, quarrelling with Timasias. Since than he loved me more than my enemy, and since I was a stranger, and the other his Subject, all the blame did light upon Timasias; but he, desiring to justify himself, Sir, said he, if you did know the cause of our quarrel, doubtless you would excuse me, and say that I have done no more than I ought. I cannot believe, replied Polycrates, that you had any reason to quarrel with Leontidas, and therefore, I would understand all the particulars of the business. Sir, (said I, even desperate that it must be known I had this Picture in my hands, and fearing that Polycrates should move me to restore it) you will spend a great deal of time, which would be better employed in many other things than this, and it will suffice, if you be only persuaded, that both of us have done nothing but what men of courage and honour ought to do: but say what I could Polycrates was so solicited by Timasias, who desired to be justified concerning the theft of this picture, and to be satisfied concerning it, began to relate the business. Then Timasias putting them in mind of the loss of Alcidamia's picture (for all the Court knew it was taken away) and also putting them in mind how he as a lover of Alcidamia, was accused for it, and how ill she had treated him concerning it, he afterwards told them that he saw the same picture in my hands, and that he only desired to know of whom I had it, that he might thereby justify himself: knowing well that it was not I who took it, since I was not then at Samos when it was stolen from Acasta.  
During this discourse of Timasias, I had variety of apprehensions in my mind, for I was extremely joyed to know certainly, by what he said, that this picture was not given unto him who lost it, and sometimes my jealousy diminished as much as my love increased, but seeing afterwards with what fervency my enemy spoke, and that I did contribute unto his justification, and perhaps unto his admission into Alcidamia's favour, I was then even absolutely desperate. Yet as soon as Timasias had done speaking, Polycrates, who had a piercing wit, not yet imagining the truth of the business, and thinking only that I had a desire to conceal the name of him who gave me this picture, told me, that he would not move me to tell before all the world who it was, but desired me to tell him in private, which if I would do, it should suffice for the justification of Timasias, that I did publicly acknowledge, some one who likely did take it from Acasta, had given it unto me. I leave you to imagine how much I was joyed that I was not able to justify my enemy and my Rival: so that I began to relate with all ingennity which truth could have, how I found it as I was walking: concealing to myself the suspicions which I had that it was Theanor who lost it, for since they were only bare suspicions, I could not resolve in my mind, which of these two Rivals I had better ruin: at the first, my discourse did a little surprise Polycrates, so that to confirm him better, I told him that Theanor, who was there by him, knew well I did not lie, since I went unto him, and told him the adventure which I had the first night I came unto Samos, and showed him this picture, and out of my curiosity desired him to inform me who he might be who had lost it, and to tell me the name of her whom it represented. So Theanor was constrained to be my witness, and Polycrates doubted not of the truth of what I said. So that it appearing I told no lie unto Timasias, and that he had no reason to think I spoke not sincerely unto him, he commanded us to embrace one another: but first Timasias beseeched Polycrates that I should restore unto Alcidamia the picture which I found: You make me believe, (said I then unto Timasias) that perhaps it was yourself which lost this picture, and that repenting yourself of that theft which wounded your reputation, you would have it restored. Timasias' grew red in the face with anger at this discourse, and returned no answer, and that which did most vex him, was that every one believed it so, and publicly talked of it, and I believe Theanor did contribute all he could to make it pass so: for my part, I was even ravished to see Polycrates laugh at what I said, and addressing my speech unto him, said, that it would be an odd thing, that since I took nothing from any one, they should oblige me to restore that which fortune gave me: or that I should be punished, before I committed a crime, or looked upon, like him who was the real robber, if he were known. Timasias would have answered, but Polycrates beginning to speak, and desiring to take up this quarrel, told me that as my punishment, I should show him this picture: Sir, said I unto him, it conduceth so much unto the honour of Alcidamia to be seen, that I do it without any difficulty at all, upon condition you will promise me to do me so much honour as to restore it: Then after that promise I did show it unto him: he no sooner saw it but looking upon the case, Leontidas, said he unto me, you need not wonder at the anger of Timasias, for by the richness of these precious stones wherewith it is set, it was to be imagined that perhaps you were his Rival, since it is not usual to be at much charges for an indifferent person: Sir (replied I) it was my fortune to find that picture in that case: yet to show I am not covetous, I am ready to restore it without the picture, unto Timasias, if it was he who lost it. Polycrates, fearing that this discourse might breed worse blood, commanded us peremptorily, to embrace one another, which without any incivility we did, though very coldly: after which, restoring me the picture, when he had contemplated it with such a seriousness as if he had never seen the person is represented, he told me smiling, that a lover of Alcidamia would be very happy in having that honour which I had in it, and in obtaining that by fortune which would not have been so easily obtained from herself. After this, he went unto the princess his sister, and would have me wait upon him: But as for Ti●asias he retired himself, being much grieved that his combat had no better success, but yet very glad in his imagination that what he had done might perhaps undeceive Alcidamia, but for all that, he himself was deceived, for she still did think that it was he who took it, and afterwards lost it in walking, and to recover it again he fought with me. You may imagine what a noise this accident did make in the Court: and had published it, before we came unto the Princess, whither Theanor came not. Alcidamia, who by chance was there, no sooner saw me but she blushy, and was ashamed to know I should have her picture. As soon as Polycrates entered, he caused me to come near the Princess H●rsilea, by whom Aloidamia stood: and relating unto them what they knew already, There needs no more, said he, to complete this advanture, if Leontidas were really in love with Alcidamia, as well as Theanor and Timasias are, the one of which is his friend, and the other his enemy; then might we see how one that is born in the Isle of Cyprus would carry himself amidst all those circumstances. Sir, said I unto him blushing, and smiling, if there need no more than that to make to adventure handsome, you need wish no more. Hearken not Sir unto Leontidas (said Alcidamia) as if he spoke seriously: for Sir, you know it is the custom of his Country to treat all Ladies thus: There are six days yet, said she, which I have to correct you in, and he hath promised me that afterwards he will speak no more in that manner unto me: How, said Polycrates speaking unto Alcidamia, have you given him leave to speak in that manner unto you, for six days? Yes Sir, replied she and blushed, but it is upon condition to speak no more so unto me afterwards; And we will believe him (said the Princess Hersilea smiling:) Indeed I cannot (replied Polycrates looking upon Alcidamia) for I am persuaded that since Leontidas has once told you that he loves, he will always tell you so; But it shall be in vain (replied Alcidamia, since I shall not hearken unto him: Yet Sir, said she, if it were fit, I could complain of a piece of injustice which you have done me, in not appointing Leontidas to restore my picture unto me. Polycrates, having a pleasing fancy, as I understood afterwards, to see me vexed, answered, that his reason was, because he would not consent unto a thing of that nature at the request of Timasias, but at hers. If that be all, said she, I humbly beseech you, command him to restore it unto me presently. I can only entreat him (said Polycrates) for I am not his Master. You may command me Sir, in all things, said I unto him, but as for this, I conceive it would be so unjust to do it, that I cannot believe you will: And what injustice is there in it, replied Alcidamia, since it is but to render me my own? In truth, said the Princess, you have less right unto it then Leontidas; for did you not give it unto Acasta? Yes, replied she, but though I did, yet Leontidas has no right unto it. For my part, said Polycrates, I find that Alcidamia is not to blame: And I find, said the Princess Hersilea, that she has no reason to have it from him: for since Acasta was so careless in losing it, and Leontidas so careful in keeping it, it is better in his hands then hers: Oh Madam, said I unto her, how infinitely am I obliged unto you, and what sufficient thanks can I possibly render you? Whilst I was thanking her, and showing such reasons as might more convince them in my favour, I saw Polycrates speak low unto Alcidamia, and her laugh as well as he: and methought afterwards, I saw them sm●le once or twice privately at one another, and indeed Polycrates was displeased at Alcidamia, since she confessed she suffered me to speak unto her concerning my love, and the more to oblige me, told her that he believed I was really in love with her: but for further satisfaction, he said unto her, Will you continue obstinate all this day in desiring him to restore your picture? How Sir, said she, all this day? speaking in a low voice to him: Yes, and all my life long, or at the least until he do restore it. Yet since I did not hear what he said, and since I saw Polycrates smile very often whilst Alcidamia pressed me to restore the picture, I was much unquiet in my mind. But as the Princess took my part, and was glad that the affection of Polycrates heretofore towards Timasias whom she loved not, did lessen towards him, and increase towards me; she said, that absolutely she would never suffer me to restore this picture; for (said she to Alcidamia, in my behalf) you have no more right unto it since you gave it unto Acasta, and she has no more right unto it than you, since she lost it so negligently: but Leontidas has more right then either of you, since he found it so fortunately; since he has won it by his valour, since he has prevented him who stole it from enjoying it, and since indeed he deserves it. Then Polycrates, to divert himself a little longer, said unto Hersilea, that it were more just that the picture remained in his hands. But without giving him so much time as to tell his reasons, the sentence of the Princess was followed; Alcidamia always declaring that she would never consent unto it: in conclusion the Prince retired, and I also: then after I had examined my memory concerning all the accidents of that day, I found more bad than good fortune in them: indeed I was extremely joyed that this Picture which I had was not given, and that I might almost say it was my own; and might look upon it without any circumstance of secrecy: But I was extremely troubled when I found my friend and my enemy were both my Rivals: for I might very well imagine, that Theanor would never have persuaded me that this Picture was given unto him who lost it, but in hopes thereby to make me alter my design: nor could I be ignorant considering the manner of Timasias his action, that he was deeply in love with Alcidamia: and afterwards calling to memory the seriousness of Polycrates in looking upon the Picture, how he whispered with her, and divers times smiled at her: remembering, I say, all these trivial circumstances, I imagined that this Prince was in love with her also: so that, to speak sincerely unto you, I was no less jealous of him, than I was of my friend, and my enemy. I might have had so much consolation (if I had known how to have taken it rightly) as to have thought that Alcidamia did neither love him, nor Theanor, nor Timasias, but I apprehended it with so many tormenting fears, as if I had known that certainly she was in love with them all; for if I had apprehended it so, than all my jealousy would have had but one object, whereas now I suffered as many torments as if Alcidamia had loved them all one after another. On which side soever her sensible soul inclines, (said I) I have great cause to fear that every one of these three terrible Rivals may move her heart. Theanor is a very complete man, wise, complacential, discreet, and witty, able to act all that a passionate love can inspire, and ruin me before I know where I am: so that if Alcidamia do affect the Courtship of such a man, I have great reason to fear him.  
Again, If she be affected unto Fame, Valour, and Liberality, Timasias is a brave and gallant man, who may easily attract her inclination: But Oh Heavens, said I, If she be ambitious, what satisfaction may she not find in Polycrates? if she affect glory, there it is to be had; if she love riches, since he is Master of the Seas, he can fetch her more, if his own will not content her: and thus repenting in my mind, all the good qualities of Polycrates, I endured unimaginable torments, especially when I considered the good fortune of this Prince, which always was waited upon with success in all his enterprises. No, no, said I, all I have to do, is to inform myself whether Polycrates loves Alcidamia, for if he do, certainly she will love him: afterwards, when I considered that of all my three Rivals, there was only Timasias, against whom I could vent all my resentments, for the other two, one of them was my friend, and the other my Master: then did I almost lose all my reason, so that I passed away that night most unquietly: yet was I not fully resolved in my mind, that Polycrates was in love with Alcidamia, I did but only suspect it, not believe it; for commonly, I began with fear; afterwards, I suspected; and after that to believe what I feared, and suspected to be really true: After then a tedious and vexatious night, Theanor came unto my Chamber in the morning, who being still resolved to conceal the truth, and to take my love off from Alcidamia, if he could, came now to tell me how glad he was of the advantage which I got the day before over my enemy; but yet he was very sorry to observe me every day more and more inclined to love Alcidamia: yet if I would permit him to deliver his dissuading reasons, he believed that I would think no more of it. The most prevalent reason, that can be, said I unto him, I heard yesterday from Polycrates, which was, that you and Timasias both are in love as well as I with her: But Theanor, I cannot help it, I must whether I will or no be your Rival, and since it is permitted Timasias to love Alcidamia, me thinks, you may allow Leontidas the same liberty. When I began first to love her, I knew not that you did so also, but now at this day, since love has got the mastery, and absolute dominion of my heart, it is in vain for me to strive against it. Theanor perceiving that I knew he was in love, did not absolutely deny it: but he told me then, that it was true, he loved Alcidamia, as all the rest of the Court did; yet it was as true, that for some reasons which he wished I knew, he endeavoured with all his power to overcome his passion.  
In conclusion, he used such obscure and ambiguous expressions, as made me plainly perceive that the only reason why he would withdraw his affection from Alcidamia, was because Polycrates had a secret mind unto her. Ah, my dear Theanor, (said I unto him, though he was my Rival, though Polycrates be more to be feared then he,) I do already know as much as you tell me. Theanor, who only had invented what he told me, purposely to dissuade from the service of Alcidamia, was much surprised to hear me say so; and fearing that he had spoken a truth, when he thought he had told me a lie, he pressed me to tell him what I knew concerning the love of Polycrates, which (as he said) was such a secret as he thought none had known it but himself: But I, who was no less inquisitive than he, did swear unto him he should never know what I knew, unless he did first expound unto me all that he had formerly told me concerning Alcidamia's Picture, which he assured me was given unto him that lost it. Theanor seeing himself so pressed, ●nd being extremely desirous to be satisfied of what I had said unto him concerning Polycrates his love unto Alcidamia, and being ashamed of telling me a lie, resolved to tell me another which should make good the first, and perhaps his own design: he told me then, after he had paused a while, as if he were half doubtful whether he should impart the secret unto me, and after he had made me solemnly swear that I would never speak of it, how Polycrates was in love with Alcidamia, and had been long: for that the business was managed by a Lady in the Court, called Mene●lida, whom every one thought Polycrates loved, though she was only a Confident unto Alcidamia: How Alcidamia, though she was very virtuous, yet answered his affection with reciprocal complacency; and how this Picture about which so much stir hath been, was given, though it seemed to be stolen: Is it possible, said I unto him, that this can be? Yes, said he unto me, for Polycrates a little before his voyage, desired Alcidamia to give him her Picture, and she consented; yet since she would not suffer it to be taken in secret, for fear of discovery; she seemed as if she would give her Picture unto Acasta, intending to have two drawn at a time, but the Painter falling sick, as soon as he had finished one for Acasta, Alcidamia durst do no other but give it unto her, because she had promised: But the Prince, going unto Acasta to bid her adieu, and seeing she had left this Picture upon her Table, whilst she went upon a visit unto the Princess Hersilea, he commanded me to go and steal it for him, which I did accordingly; for at that time Alcidamia and I were not kind at all, and I cared not though Polycrates loved her. How Theanor, said I unto him did you steal Alcidamia's Picture, and do you assure me, that she promised it unto the Prince? Yes, replied he: But, said I unto him, it was not Polycrates who lost it that night I found it: for when that accident happened, the Prince was gone into his Chamber long before: Theanor was none plust at this answer: but upon second thoughts, No no, said he, deceive not yourself; for the Prince Polycrates does use to walk in the night, and come privately without any company with him into that walk, so that doubtless it was he, though you did not know him, who let that Picture fall that night you sound it. But I remember, that I found you very melancholy the next morning, what was then in your mind? Nothing but sorrow, replied he, to find that absence had not altered the heart of Polycrates, for as soon as ever he landed, he sent to see how Alcidamia did. What did that concern you, said I, since you were not then in love with her? and why did you trouble yourself with any sorrow, since she was so indifferent unto you? I told you, answered he, that indeed she was so when I first embarked, but I did not tell you, she was so at my second return. It was no wonder then, said I unto him, that Polycrates was so desirous to have me restore it unto Alcidamia. Then, to satisfy his curiosity, I told him how this Prince continued still his earnest desires unto me, to restore it unto her, how he was 〈…〉 lie whispering with her, and wi●king at her, whilst she was importuning me for it, and indeed I told him so exactly all my observations of every petty circumstance, which then did seem such strong arguments unto me, of Polycrates his love, that I made no doubt at all of the truth. As for Theanor, he was even ravished with joy to understand that I knew nothing which could disquiet him, for he was not of so jealous an apprehension as I was. But Theanor, said I unto him, What do you yourself resolve upon? To overcome my passion, (said he unto me; hoping that I would follow his example,) for, to be a Rival unto a Sovevereign, is an odd presumption. I am very glad you are so wise, said I unto him, and that my friend 〈◊〉 from being my Rival. Being a stranger as you are, replied he, you do expose yourself unto an angry adventure in loving her that Polycrates loves, unto whom you are obli 〈…〉 Being his Rival (said I unto him, half angry) as you are, me thinks, you take a great deal of 〈◊〉 him: but yet if you will admit of any Lover of Alcidamia, it should be myself b 〈…〉 other, 〈…〉 ion have a greater influence upon your soul then friendship. Theanor suffered this discourse without any sharp reply, as well because he had no mind to fall out with 〈◊〉, as because he was guilty of doing me wrong in deceiving me: but we parted in this manner, he left 〈◊〉 jealous of him, but much more of Polycrates, who being so amiable and handsome as he was, became intolerable unto me. As soon as Theanor was gone out, I went unto Alcidamia, where I found Timasias, whom Acasta had brought thither, to 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 how she had wronged him in accusing him for stealing her Picture: and though Alcidamia could not be 〈◊〉 from that belief, yet at the importunity of Acasta, she permitted him to see her, and that he might hereafter take the honour to visit her: so that when I came in, Timasias was ready to go out, and thanked her for this great honour which she had done him. When I had heard these last words of his compliment, I imagined the matter, & was so very angry at 〈◊〉 that all the 〈…〉 ny perceived it. As soon as he was gone, Alcidamia turning towards 〈…〉 to you, said she, that Timasias is beholding, for the permission to see me sometimes, which now I consented unto, since if you had not quarrelled, I should have still believed, that it was he who took my Picture. If it be the intention (said I unto him) which sets a price upon all good offices, Timasias has no reason to thank me for it, since I did never intend him any service in it. Presently after, Polycrates came in, Theanor, and several others followed him; Timasias, also proud of his new obtained favour, came in with Polycrates almost as soon as he was gone out. Imagine me now in the midst of three Rivals, the least of which I was in great jealousy of; which side soever I turned mine eye did meet with angry objects: for since it was very hard for Alcidamia, but she must often looked upon either Polycrates, or Theanor, or Timasias, though she had no design at all in her looks, I suffered more than I am able to express: I would gladly have fixed her eyes upon mine, and none else, but alas, I was not so happy as to have my wish: for you must know, that Alcidamia, whose equal and impartial humour would drive all her Servants into despair, she used such a certain kind of indifferent civility, without any choice at all, as if she knew distinction of the men which visited her, though one were of the most delicate spirit in the world: and she had a fantasy to gain and win upon every one by this innocent way, so that by consequence she was very civil and sweet, and complacential unto all that came near her, and used an universal kindness unto all; she never seemed to be troubled at them who did most importune her: she was so absolute Mistress of herself, that she could change and vary when she pleased, and was so witty, that she knew how to turn discourse as seemed good unto her: you may imagine therefore how I was tormented that day; when Polycrates talked with her, I could not endure it, and I thought that her joy, which she apprehended at it, made her seem fairer. If she looked upon Timasias, I imagined it was only to engage him deeper than before: and if she turned towards Theanor, I feared that her looks would not cure him of his passion, as he told me he designed. When Polycrates spoke unto Meneclida, who was then with Alcidamia, I supposed it to be out of subtlety, and as unto his Confident of his passion: and if Alcidamia did me any civility, or held me in any general discourse, I looked upon her as one who would deceive me, and returned her a peevish answer: I confess unto you, that I could have wished Alcidamia fair only in my eye, or else that she were unto all the world invisible: I wished they would esteem her, and her honour was not indifferent unto me; but for all that, I would not have them love her, and I think, I should have rather wished them to hate her. The discourse of all this day was very agreeable unto all the company, except me. The Prince Polycrates, chiding me for my melancholy, told me, that I was surely a very discreet Lover, and that he could not guests at any cause of melancholy I should have, since I had the Picture of the fairest person upon Earth: Sir, said I unto him hastily, It is not so great a happiness to have the Picture of the fair Alcidamia only from the hands of fortune: but if I should have so much happy honour as to receive it from her fair hand, I should then esteem it much more precious than I do, although I do esteem it a high ●ate already. Before you receive it from her hands, said Polycrates smiling, she must get it out of yours: and therefore your best way will be to restore it unto her, as I desired you yesterday: And as I desire to day, said Alcidamia. If I were sure you would give it me again to morrow, replied I, I should doubtless restore it to day; but I should be very unhappy to deprive myself of that honour which I do already enjoy, in hopes of a greater good, which perhaps you will never honour me with: Afterwards Meneclida seemed as if she were very jealous that I should have Alcidamia's Picture, and not she, and because the excellent and only Picture-drawer which drew it at Samos was gone unto Ephesus. This pleasing contest between these two beauties was so hot, that Alcidamia to appease Meneclida, gave her a Seal of a very rare Emerald, her name engraven upon it, which she wore about her Arm in a flame coloured Ribon: the gift was so magnificent, both for the Lustre of the Stone, and for the Art of the Ingraver, who was the famous Theodorus, that Meneclida would not accept it, but upon condition that she would take another Bracelet which she wore, the clasp whereof was Rubies, and in the midst thereof a very fair Diamond. This exchange passing in my presence, I was so bold as to say, that I preferred Alcidamia's Picture before them both, as magnificent as they were: T●en did Theanor make signs at me, as who would say I must not declare myself so openly before Polycrates. But I, who was not Master of my passion, would needs cheer up my jealousy, by those signs of my love which I expressed, before my two Rivals. In the mean while I must tell you that the eight day being come, after which Alcidamia would not hear me speak any more concerning my love, I discoursed so long, and so seriously unto her, that she perceived she must prepare herself for a long persecution: all that I had said unto her until then might have been interpreted, as gallantry only, but so it could not be at this time: for it was impossible for me to hide my jealousy from her, when I was expressing myself in love: and I think verily, that I thought more of conjuting her not to love my Rivals, than I did of entreating her to permit me leave to love her: after this, I lived in perpetual vexation and anguish of mind, though I did, if I durst say it, sometimes find some glimpse of goodness towards me, in the heart of Alcidamia, but yet I durst not put any trust in her: and I think that unless I lived alone with her in an habited Island, where never any Ship came, I could not have fancied sufficient security from my Rivals. Therefore was I extremely miserable, for I must whether I would or no, find Polycrates every day with her, and endure the frequent visits of Theanor, who could not hide his thoughts so close but I could easily discover he was in love with Alcidamia: and I was forced also, unless I would quit Samas, to suffer Timasias, who was my Mortal enemy.  
And to speak truth, whosoever hath not had trial of all these three kinds of jealousies, does not know what it is to be rightly jealous: but mine rested not here: for be pleased to know that there was a man in the Court, of a very base condition, who had been a slave unto Xanthus, the Philosopher, the same time that famous Esope was with him, and who was infranchized by their Master, the same day as that excellent author of those witty fables which are so famous every where, was set at liberty; the pleasant and merry making humour of this man brought him into the Court, and procured him the liberty to feast without any exception, upon all the world. Since Alcidamia, as I told you before, was so complacential as to suffer those who were even troublesome unto her, you may easily imagine that she would not banish those from her, who diverted her: so that this old friend of Esope was continually with her; then since he knew all the news of the Court, and could tell it handsomely, he had always something or other to tell her in secret, and she had always something to ask him in private, so that there passed not a day but I saw them whisper long together, and sometimes laugh, although I knew not at what: And I saw this, I tell you, so frequent, that maugre my jealousy of Timasias, of Theanor, and of Polycrates, I was also jealous of Hiparchus, for that was his name, who was as much below me, as Polycrates was above me. This poor piece of jealousy troubled me more than all the others, because it brought me sometimes even to scorn Alcidamia. After this Hiparchus could never move me unto any laughter, how pleasant and witty soever his Raillery was, for it is not possible for one to be both a good Buffoon and a Rival unto any. This was the manner of my life, when Polycrates (who indeed was in love with Meneclida, though for some state reasons, he did not then make it appear openly) intended a recreation upon the Sea, or rather a great fishing, at which all the Court Ladies were to be; the Princess Hersilea invited them all unto this Sea Feast: and though doubtless it was intended only for Meneclida, yet I supposed it to be for Alcidamia, with whom she held a great privacy and familiarity at that time: for since the accident of the picture, Acasta, who before that was her prime confident, was now no longer so, but Meneclida had the highest place in her heart. All things being prepared for this grand fishing, and the day being set down; they were constrained to defer it, because there arrived an Ambassador from Amasis' King of Egypt, who loved Polycrates very well, and who sent to tell him, that his good fortune would procure him some unquietness of mind, for it was the saying of a very wise man, it was absolutely impossible to be always happy: he did therefore advise him to prepare himself for some misfortune, by some voluntary loss, to the end, that if any angry and cross accident fell out, his Soul should not be surprised with it: Polycrates received this counsel by many testimonies of gratitude for the care which so great a King did take of him, and he went into a Galley with this Egyptian Ambassador, and as it was reported, he threw into the Sea, upon a premeditated design, a Jewel of an inestimable value, to the end it might cause him sufficient grief: Yet it was not so; but see what was the ground of this report, which was rumoured not only throughout all Asia, but all the world. The morning that this Ambassador came, and had been treated with all possible magnificency, Polycrates desired to recreate himself at this great fishing. This being in the end of Autumn, which commonly is the most pleasant time of the year at Samos, the Sea was so calm, that it was most delectable being upon it, yet not so good for fishing, for the great calm is not the most proper for it.  
Twelve gilded Galleys were provided for this glorious company; all of them had most magnificent Tents upon the deck: and a Thousand waving Flags of divers colours, in several places of the Galleys: but above the rest, that which was appointed to carry the Prince Polycrates, the Princess Hersilea, the Egyptian Ambassador, the fair Meneclida, the incomparable Alcidamia, and other Principal Ladies of the Court, was the most glorious and gallant Galley in the world. Yet I who thought all this magnificency was only an effect of Polycrates his love of Alcidamia, did observe it more than any other, though without any delight: I got into this Galley where she was, and that day was she fairer than ever Galathia, Thetis, or Venus, could by the Art of any hand be drawn: All the Nets which were used were of silk; all the fishers were dressed in Triton's habit, and all the Ladies like the Nereids. As we were in such a place of the Sea, as was full of fish, Polycrates presented unto all the Ladies, Lines, and Angle-rods of Ebony, and blue silk lines with hooks of Gold. This Prince who naturally was civil unto all, did as much as he could hide his affection unto Meneclida, and taking one of those Angle-rods, gave it unto Alcidamia, before he gave one unto Meneclida, which passage you may well imagine did extremely trouble me; so that whilst every one was taken up with delights, I was tossed in a turbulent Sea of jealousy.  
Theanor, and Timasias, who were in another Galley, did so fix their looks upon that, wherein Alcidamia was, that I believe they did not think their fishing good sport, in theirs; for my part, all my employment was to observe what Polycrates did, and to my great misery, I was no less unquiet, when he spoke unto Meneclida, then when he discoursed with Alcidamia, because I conceived her to be only a Confident of his love. I observed that whilst the Egyptian Ambassador was entertaining the Princess Hirsilea, and whilst many Ladies were busy in their sports, some fishing, and others looking on, Polycrates, as I told you before, presenting a Rod and a Line unto Alcidamia, before Meneclida, said unto her out of his Gallantry, that if she were as happy in taking of fish, as she was of hearts, she would catch fish enough. Then I know not how Meneclida, taking her Angle-rod in her hand, did so entangle it in that Ribon which she wore about her Arm, and which Alcidamia had given her; but I am sure she let it fall, and gave a great cry upon it, and that if Polycrates had not stooped hastily, and catched it, it had certainly fallen into the Sea: Then holding it in his hands, he expressed many signs of joy, as well as Meneclida, who infinitely esteemed it, as well for its own value, as for the hand which gave it: But as for Polycrates, who only valued it as coming from the Arm of Meneclida, he told her, that in lieu of restoring it unto her, he would keep it unto the end of the fishing, for fear she should lose it again: Then calling me unto him, Have not I more right unto this Seal, Leontidas, said he, than you have unto the Picture of Alcidamia? And may I not keep it if I will from the fair Meneclida, as well as you the Picture from Alcidamia? since you found yours in a place where it would not have been for ever lost, as this which I happily preserved would have been. Sir, said I unto him very angryly, because I supposed he only loved the Seal because it was Alcidamia's, you were so opposite unto me concerning this Picture whereof you speak, that for all the respect I owe you, I have much ado to judge favourably in your behalf. Then must the fair Alcidamia assist me, said he, in persuading the fair Meneclida that I may enjoy that which she lost. Sir, replied she, most cruelly as I thought, I shall never be opposite unto any thing which may be advantageous unto you, and I find that Meneclida has made this Seal which I gave her so precious by her wearing it, that you have great reason to desire the preservation of it: If the Prince, replied Meneclida, be of my mind, he will value it upon the same score as I did; that is, because it was yours.  
In conclusion, After this contest Meneclida did consent that Polycrates should wear her Seal the rest of the day, so that he putting it on his Arm, seemed to be as pleasant and glorious as if he had got some great Conquest: Indeed, he was as glad as I was sad, for as the passage seemed unto my apprehension, it was never given unto Meneclida, but under a private design to be given unto Polycrates. I imagined that Meneclida did purposely put it off, and let it fall, and indeed I imagined all that could torment my mind: After they had taken all the delight that fishing could afford, and had divers times seen them draw their Nets, so loaded with fish that they broke, and gave liberty unto all those pretty prisoners, which they only took for the pleasure of taking them, and to look upon their silver Armour: and after the Ladies had tired themselves with taking many Dares, and other fishes, there was in every Galley a magnificent Collation prepared, and most harmonious Music: afterwards, the Sun not being towards Evening any thing offensive unto the Ladies, the Tents were all taken away, and this illustrious Company enjoyed as pleasant a season as ever was. All the Ladies took off their hoods. The beauty appeared in full lustre, every one was entertaining themselves with those that were m●st agreeable unto their fancy, and I was the only man who was solitary, and held conversation with none but myself: I saw Polycrates sit between Alcidamia and Meneclida, speaking sometimes to one, and sometimes to another. Meneclida, because the day grew old, and night came on, asked for her Seal: and as he seemed unwilling to restore, she pressed the more to have it, but still this Prince denied it, as seeming extreme unwilling to part with it. Sir, (said she smiling, as afterwards I knew, for than I saw only by their action, and did not understand their words) If any but the Prince Polycrates should ask this Seal as a favour, he would be suspected a passion, little less gallant than love. To show you, said he, that I am not very covetous, I will restore the Seal upon condition you will only give me the Ribon which is tied unto it; in saying so he began to untie it notwithstanding her resistance; and as she still denied it, saying, to excuse herself, that she should lose it if she had not the Ribon also, the Seal fell out of the hands of Polycrates into the Sea, and he not able to catch it, for they leaned over a gilded Rail, which was by the sides of the Galley. Polycrates was even desperate at the accident: Meneclida very angry, and when the loss was divulged, every one shared in the Prince's sorrows, for being the cause of such a loss unto Meneclida: I only rejoiced, and was ravished that he could not enjoy such a favour as came from Alcidamia; for I did not understand that he intended to restore it when he let it fall: See, said he, the great misfortune of Polycrates, since the first that befalls him is without a remedy: But the more he appeared troubled, the more did I also, because my jealousy was augmented by it. The Egyptian Ambassador to comfort him, wished that never greater misfortune might befall him: an● as long as the day lasted, either at Sea, or in the Palace, after our return to Court, nothing but this accident was talked on.  
The next morning, Theanor, the more to afflict me, did craftily tell me, that Polycrates, to repair the loss of Meneclida, had in the Evening sent two other Seals unto her, and Alcidamia, the fairest and richest in the world, beseeching her to keep the one, and give the other unto Meneclida. This piece of Gallantry drove me into absolute despair; and though I understood at the same time by another besides Theanor, that Alcidamia did make very nice in accepting what the Prince had sent her, and that Polycrates was glad to use the authority of the Princess his Sister to beg acceptance, yet was I not less jealous, for I considered that Alcidamia had a Seal which came from Polycrates, and I imagined that the other which was given unto Meneclida, was but a colour for giving the other, and as a kind of recompense for the good offices she had done him: Moreover this Ribon which remained in the hands of Polycrates, and which he kept so carefully, did infinitely augment my pangs of jealousy, so that I enjoyed not a minute's rest: There happened the next morning another accident, which did extraordinarily trouble me, and which every one looked upon as one of the most miraculous chances, and as the greatest sign of good fortune that ever happened unto any one: for Polycrates, some two days after this grand entertainment, having risen betimes in the morning, with intentions to go and hunt, and being in a marble walk in the midst of the Castle, ready to take horse, he saw two old fishermen approaching him with humble respect, and presented a fish unto him which they had taken, of a monstrous bigness, which two other fishers carried upon a bundle of Sea-reeds. This fish being an extraordinary fine one, and wonderfully large, Polycrates looked upon it with much delight; and causing him who brought it to be well rewarded, he took horse, and went to hunt as he intended: but at his return, one of his officers coming unto him as he was entering into the Castle, presented unto him the same Seal, which Meneclida and he let fall into the Sea, the last great fishing day, which they found in this miraculous fish which was presented unto him, who doubtless had swallowed it at the very same instant that it fell into the water. I was then close by Polycrates, so that I could easily observe how pleasingly he was surprised at this prodigious accident, and to get that again which he thought to be for ever absolutely lost: And indeed, this piece of good fortune was so extraordinary, that though Polycrates had not been at all in love, yet must it needs rejoice him: and since Meneclida was so much ravished to regain that into her possession which was so very dear unto her, Polycrates also did testify his in such excess, that it made me more jealous than ever, imagining that whatsoever I saw him do, was always for Alcidamia: he gave unto that Officer which presented it unto him as much as enriched him for his life: he redoubled his liberality to the fishermen who presented the fish: and making choice of me unluckily amongst the rest, he appointed me to carry this welcome news unto Alcidamia, and Meneclida, until he could come himself to see them: Mean while, all the Court admired at this strange accident, and could not choose but talk of it. After this, said the Egyptian Ambassador unto Polycrates, you may trust Fortune, or defy her: since the fairest of fishes did swallow it, and afterwards suffered himself to be taken by such a Fisher as was so honest as to present you with it, and after all this to find an Officer so trusty and faithful, as to restore a jewel of that value, is a piece of as great good fortune as is imaginable, and aught to persuade you, that you shall be ever happy. If so (answered Polycrates very civilly) you yourself must rejoice also, as at a thing which speaks the prosperity of the King your Master, since I myself can never be happy, unless he be so also. Mean while I went against my mind, to discharge myself of my Commission, but it was after such a faint manner, as let Alcidamia and Meneclida see very well that my mind was much perplexed: I found unto my greater grief, that Hiparchus, who had not been hunting, was with them, and that Timasias and Theanor both, whom we left at the Gates of the Town, was there also: I related my business then in such a manner, as was a fit subject for the raillery of Hiparchus: for seeing in what a melancholy tone I told this news of joy and delight, he vented a hundred of his flashes, which were bitter unto me, and pleasant unto them, in so much as if Meneclida had not handsomely turned the discourse, my melancholy would perhaps have appeared more than I would have it: after this, I must go and render an account unto Polycrates of what the Ladies said unto me: but though they did both of them load me with a hundred civilities towards him, yet I passed them over in a slight manner, and told a short story, that Meneclida was very glad there was any hopes to have her Seal soon again.  
Polycrates was then in his closet, and no body with him, but myself, and he asked with extreme curiosity, what Meneclida and Alcidamia had said unto me? and since I returned him no manner of pertinent answer, he came upon me with question upon question, and put say Soul into such a horrid torment, that I was divers times ready to cast off all respect unto him: but the Prince observing the discomposure of my mind, did ask what it was which troubled me, since I answered only with a bow, he begun to muse, and afterwards looking earnestly upon me, Leontidas, said he unto me, you are either in love, or else I am the most mistaken man in the world: But if it be so, said he, I wish for your own quiet sake it be not with Alcidamia, for she is one of such an indifferent humour as will much trouble the tranquillity of your mind in obtaining your desired end: When I heard Polycrates speak in this manner, and perceived his desire to know my thoughts, but I was at such a nonplus, that I could not ananswer him: The Prince observing my disorder, smiled, and embracing me with abundance of sweetness, Leontidas, said he unto me, fear not to discover your imperfections unto me, for I am resolved to discover mine unto you, and the more to oblige you, I pray you know, that the same Polycrates who every one conceives so happy, is oftentimes tormented with a secret which troubles the goodness of his fortunes. Sir, (said I then unto him, being extremely transported) it seems to me, that Alcidamia is not very averse unto you: Alcidamia indeed, said he unto me, does sometimes qualify the severity of Meneclida, but yet for all that, all that she does in my behalf is to prevent her friend from treating me ill, but truly she is very favourable unto me. I confess, when I heard Polycrates express himself thus, I thought at the first it was only to deceive me. Yet this Prince perceiving my mistrust of him, and guessing at a great part of my thoughts, he was too good as to desire me, that I would utter them unto him, and I was so bold as to obey him. And after I had in some sort acknowledged, that I had been deceived, Polycrates then understanding my error, did dissipate it in such a manner, that there remained not any more suspicion in my Soul, and I perfectly knew, how all that Theanor had said unto me was false, which put me into such a collorique fume against him, that I was not master of my own resentment. I told not then Polycrates all I knew, and I conceived it more noble to be revenged upon him myself, then to make use of the Authority of the Prince for it. Now did Polycrates really love me, and to cure me of my jealousy, he made me that confident of his passion unto Meneclida, and to oblige me the more, he offered me all his assistance to Alcidamia: and indeed he spoke so much in my advantage, when he went the next morning to carry Meneclida her Seal, that the fair Alcidamia did look much more favourably upon me. In the mean time, going to look out Theanor, that I might acquaint him with my resentments, I understood how he was gone into the Country for some days: I heard also that Timasias was fallen sick, and stirred not out of his chamber; So that I found my jealousy of Polycrates vanished, and rid of two Rivals for a while, and finding also the favour of this Prince, I entered into a very great league of friendship with Alcidamia, and was for almost a week a most happy man. But alas, the beginning of my good fortune was the beginning of my greater Torment. For as long as I thought myself not at all loved by Alcidamia, my jealousy, though great then, yet was not comparable to what afterwards, since she favoured me so far as to tolerate my affection, and permit me some hopes of hers hereafter; for regarding her then as one in whom I had some right, I was therefore much more tormented in thoughts of the loss: I must now augment my train, thereby to have more spies to observe what she and all my Rivals did: when Theanor returns we must fight: I had also many ruffles with Timasias, and many suspicions of Hiparchus, and indeed I was at that pass as I wished Alcidamia might see no body. I followed her every where, or caused her to be followed: I was always melancholy, and musing, for though Alcidamia did out of her goodness unto me create much hope in me, yet she did not leave off her complacential humour unto all people, but was so generally civil unto all, as made me absolutely despair, and persecuted me beyond imagination: and truly it was absolutely impossible for me, not to be perpetually giving her some marks of my suspicion, though I did never intend as much: if she had hereupon been so indulgent as to cure me, perhaps she might have done it: but on the contrary, my jealousy incensed her, and made her use all the means she could to add fire unto my jealousy, for she took every opportunity of conversing with one of my Rivals: she let slip no occasion of walking abroad, and recreating herself, and lived as best pleased herself, and as if I were not jealous of her: not that I could ever find she did any thing which was not fit, or what other Ladies of her quality did: but me thought she was bound to pity my weakness, to yield a little unto my capricious phantasm; and to restrain herself something more than she did: yet for all that, this inhuman Lady looked upon me as her persecutor, and treated me so cruelly, that I understood she railed against my suspicions and fears unto Polycrates, and unto Hiparchus also; insomuch as all my jealousies revived even of the very Prince: So that with an angry mind, I went one day to visit her, when she was all alone, yet when I was with her, the one half of my fury vanished, and I spoke unto her with much respect. This discourse began at the first with things indifferent, though it was not my custom to do so when I was alone with her: But not knowing how to begin handsomely, for fear I should too much incense her, I stammered, and was wandered so impertinently from the purpose, that Alcidamia could not choose but laugh: when I saw that, I grew red with choler, and no longer able to hide my thoughts, You are obliged unto me, said I unto her, for giving you so often a subject to divert the Prince Polycrates, and to laugh with Hiparchus. They two are of such different dispositions (said she) that I cannot think one thing is able to divert them equally. It is much harder for me to comprehend (said I unto her) how they can both be possibly in one heart: They easily may (answered she very sharply) and many others besides, for certainly Leontidas, there is often in one heart, both love and harred, scorn and friendship, indifferency and aversion. I know it well (said I unto her,) and I know very well also which of all these, I ought most to pretend unto: Since doubtless you are not ignorant (replied she in a more malicious tone) of the price of those services which you render, it is easy for you to guests it: I guess it better, replied I, by the capricious humour of another, then by myself: But you may guests at it more exactly, replied she, by your own capricious humour, then by any thing else, if it were possible for you to know it: Call you that capricious, Madam (said I unto her) to adore you only of all the people in the World, to look upon you only, and to wish nothing upon Eirth but to be loved? I know very well, said she, that you look upon none but me, and perhaps if you looked upon me less, you would be looked upon more favourable: Why Madam, replied I, do you think it possible to love perfectly, and not endeavour, as much as may be, to see the person loved? I think, said she, that the way to make one's self to be loved, is to please, and not to be always busy in depriving the party who is loved of all things she delights in. But if the person who one loves, answered I, do love again, she will take no delight in persecuting him whom she thinks worthy of her affection; but would find much more pleasure in pitying his weakness, and desiring to cure them. For my part (said she) indeed I am not so full of goodness: for I know not how to pity those evi●● in any one, which they voluntarily cause in themselves; An Madam, said I unto her, how little do you know him of whom you speak, if you think that he does voluntarily cause his evils? No, no, deceive not yourself I beseech you, jealousy is a tyrannical passion, as well as love, which begins in our hearts whether we will or no: which angments also in spite of all resistance, and in the end, do what we can, will ruin us. Since it is such an incurable disease, said ●he, it is in vain to go about the cure: and the best discretion is to hide it so that others shall not perceive it. I would I could, said I unto her, but how is it possible Madam to see you continually Environed with persons who are agreeable unto you, and not to express some glimpse of perplexity? What, said she, would you never have me look upon any but ugly persons? that I should be always in solitary and melancholy places? that I should hate music and mirth? that I should never walk abroad? that conversation should displease me? and that I should dron● away all my life in solitude? I wish not so much Madam, said I unto her, but I confess I desire with all my heart, if it were possible, that the Prince Polycrates, Theaner, Timas●as, and Hiparchus, were none of them so much in your favour as Leontidas. Alcidamia blushed at this discourse, and after a while of paw●ing, she began to tell me, what rank all these persons held in her heart, and first for Polycrates, she told me that she esteemed him as a great Prince, who was passionately in love with Meneclida her friend. That as for Theanor, she neither had any hatred not friendship towards him: as for Timasias, she had a greater disposition to hate him, then to love him; and as for Hiparchus, she ever loved his company, but never his person. When I heard Alcidamia say so, I was even ravished with joy; and would have returned her thanks, but she prevented me; and said, No no, Leontidas, make no such haste, I tell you not all this for your satisfaction, but my own: It is for my own particular honour, that I assure you all these persons whom I have named have no secret place in my heart; But it is for your tranquillity, that I tell you ingeniously, because you shall not be deceived, that you have no more place in my heart than they have. Why Madam, said I unto her, will you never love Leontidas? No, not the least thought, replied she, as long as he continues jealous, and since I cannot think, but he will be always so, I cannot think, that I shall ever entertain any affection to him. But consider, cruel Lady, said I unto her, that this jealousy is only an effect of love. If you loved me then a little less, replied she, I should love you a little more; for indeed, Leontidas, I had rather marry a man that hates me, than one that loves me with any engredient of jealousy in his love: therefore desist from courting me any more, since all will be in vain. But, said I unto her, were I once assured, that I were the happy man you mean to make choice of, my jealousy would cease. No, said she, I will not expose myself unto such a danger: for there are many Lovers who are not jealous at all whilst they are servants, yet are so when they come to be Husbands. But I can never think that he who is jealous, when he has yet no right unto the person whom he loves, will never cease to be so when he has married her. Therefore Leontidas, you have put an unremovable obstacle between your pretensions unto me, and yourself. And how much soever I may esteem you, I shall tell you once again, that I shall never marry you. When I heard Alcidamia thus express herself, I would have protested unto her, that I would never be jealous any more; but in very speaking unto her, I do confess, that I found such certains symptoms in myself, as told me, that I was not yet in a condition to be absolutely cured of that Malady which tormented me: In the mean time, I could not move Alcidamia, to alter her resolution, nor yet any other answer from her: I made several attempts upon myself several days, not to appear jealous, but seemed to be pleasant, and agreeable to all Societies: I spoke unto Theanor, I saluted Timasias with more civility then formerly: I would sometimes jest and quibble with Hiparchus: but to tell you truly, I did all these so ill favouredly, and in such a forced manner, that I made Alcidamia laugh more heartily, then if I had spoke the most pleasant things in the world. This put me into such an inward chafe, that I did silently blame her. What would you have me do, said she, you sergeant it so scurvily, that I cannot for my life but laugh. This her carriage towards me, did extremely offend me, but yet she continued her constant course of sweetness, civility, and complacency unto every one, whilst I continued my accustomed vexation of mind, and was always restless and miserable: Not knowing then what course to take, but knowing well that Alcidamia was fully resolved upon what she told me, I went to consult with the Philosopher Lanthas, whom I was well acquainted with, and conjured him to prescribe me his best physic, to cure my jealousy; for knowing him to be a man of profound knowledge in every thing, and one that all his life had studied the nature of passions, I had great hopes in his documents, and sapient advices to find a remedy: The evil whereof you complain (answered he) is not so easily cured as you imagine, not know I any but one remedy, yet it is most infallible to those that will observe it: Let me hear it quickly, I beseech you, said I unto him, for let it be as difficult as it will, I am fully resolved to apply it. There is no way, replied he, but to leave off loving, and without this, those whose souls are tainted with that dangerous passion, can never be absolutely delivered from it. But, replied I, all in anger, you must teach me at the same time how to leave loving: By leaving the sight of her you love, answered he. Your remedies are very harsh, said I unto him. Your disease is great, replied he; and the maladies of the mind, as well as those of the body, when they are grown to extremities, they must have extreme remedies. Is there no possibility, said I unto him, to cure jealousy some other way? No, not when it is violent, replied he, and stronger than the love which first gave life unto it; for truly this passion is so bere●● of reason, that it can never judge of any thing rightly: A man that is jealous in the excess, is like a remedy, unto which nature lends no help, and unto whom all remedies are useless. In other passions, reason causes the owner sometimes to receive the remedies prescribed; but a jealous man will find no help from any advice: for being accustomed to be often deceived, he can never discern the truth: so that after a long discourse, the result of all my philosophical advice was, That if I would cease being jealous, I must cease loving; and if I would cease loving, I must cease seeing the Party whom I love: Then did I quit her, and went to walk alone, and very busy I was with myself, to resolve what course to undertake: but I could not that day fix upon any thing, and I believe, if the merciless Alcidamia had not so infinitely augmented my jealousy by her manner of proceeding with me, it would have been long before I had determined with myself. But the great feast of Juna being now come, and all the Isle of Samos in public jollity; she gave me such fresh causes of complaint, in all the Assemblies where ever I saw her; and she had so fully persuaded me, that so long as I was jealous, so long should I be hated; that in conclusion, I resolved, since I could not cease from being so, I would cease from loving if I could, and to depart from Samos: I was inventing an handsome presence for my departure, yet not telling the truth unto any but Polycrates, of whom I was then less jealous, I quit his Isle, notwithstanding all his persuasions to the contrary, and I did quit it without bidding adieu unto any: But that I might go out completely unhappy, as I passed by Alcidamia's Lodging, I saw Timasias and Hiparchus enter, and I knew by Theanor's Servants who were at the door, that he was there before then: I had so strong a fancy of that joy, which my Rivals would resent in my absence, that I was in a mind not to depart, yet wrestling with my mind with all my power, I at the last embarked, and returned to Cyprus, a little before the Prince Philoxipeses fell in love with the fair Policrita; since that, I have lived a most unquiet and unhappy life: for indeed, absence has done no good at all upon me, but I still continue more amorous and more jealous, and by consequence more unfortunate than ever Lover. Since my separation from Alcidamia, I am not only jealous of my Prince, my friend, my enemy, and another of an inferior quality unto me, but I am jealous also of every one whom I do imagine sees her; and when you see me sometimes stand in dull dumpish study, and melancholy musing posture, then am I calling them all into my memory one after another, and imagining that Alcidamia is treating them better than she did me. Let not Thimocrates then pretend, that absence comes near the rigour of jealousy, since there is no comparison between them.  
The Remembrance of what is past, the hopes of what is to come, (as the Prince Artibies hath very well observed) does bring a thousand consolations unto an absent Lover, that is beloved: But a jealous Lover cannot find any thing either in his remembrance of the time past, or in his hopes of the time to come, which can afford him any quietness of mind: An absent Lover, never looks for any things but such as are agreeable, and delightful, the hopes of which are sweet unto him, as the sight of his Mistress, her company, and many such advantages; whereas jealousy is so irregular from all rules of reason, that he does often wish not to see his Mistress. I know very well, that not to be loved, is a grand misery: yet not so great by far as his who imagines himself not only not loved, but imagines that the person whom he loves, does love an hundred thousand others better than himself: Neither is the death of the party loved with all its terrors, so tormentive as jealousy. A Lover who laments the death of his Mistress, has this consolation at the least, that he is pitied by every one, it moves compassion in his most mortal enemies: whereas on the contrary, a jealous Lover moves not the least jot of pity from his dearest friends: those that are the most discreet amongst them, can do no more, than not to speak against him: but the ordinary sort do most commonly openly jeer, and mock at him for it: and yet though he see it in them all, he knows no remedy. Moreover, that kind of sorrow which is caused by death, hath some limits; there can come nothing new nor worse unto him who resents it: But a jealous Lover does every day endure an hundred thousand fresh and worse punishments than ever he could foresee: and does so invent them himself, that he is his own punisher. When death hath ravished that which is dearest unto one away, there is yet this advantage remaining, that all the passions of his soul, except that of love, do rest in peace, and suffers one to weep in a kind of tranquillity: But there is perpetual trouble & confusion in that heart which is possessed with jealousy: Hatred disputes with love for the Empire; fear drives out all hopes; fear takes place of tenderness; despair often follows; one reputes an hundred times in a day of his own wishes: one desires death not only upon himself, but his Mistress also: one cannot see things as they are; for whereas according to the order of nature, the senses do commonly delude the imagination; Here on the contrary, the imagination deludes the senses, and afterwards does force the ears, and the eyes, to think, (if it may be properly said so) that they hear and see that which they do not: and yet for all this, the knowledge of these errors cannot cure the mind of those who know them; and jealousy indeed may more firly be phraysed Whichcraft, Enchantment, or Magic, rather than a bare passion. Pronounce Judgement then in my favour, Oh my most ingenious, and just Judge; and deny not your pity unto the most unfortunate Lover in the world.  
Leontidas having finished his Discourse, Martesia desired Cyrus to pronounce Sentence upon these four famous Lovers: But he denying it with most sweet and obliging civility, and also refusing to give her any counsel: she was forced to use her own ingenious apprehensiuns. After that she had then paused, and studied a while to recall into her memory, what she intended to utter, she pronounced her Sentence with a very handsome Grace, though not without a blush, in these terms.    

The Judgement of MARTESIA.  
I Know very well, it was my own curiosity to know the Adventures of these four illustrious Persons, which moved me unto so much injustice, as to accept of the quality of being their Judge: But I know also that all of you have so excellently expressed yourselves, and your reasons, and so perfectly described your sufferings, that it is almost impossible I should be erroneous in my opinion; I declare then with audacity, that Thimocrates, though absent, yet since he is loved, is the least unfortunate of the four: That Philocles, though not loved, yet is he not the most unfortunate of all, since that which causeth his misery, may perhaps, hereafter, cause his cure: And as for Leontidas, I affirm that he is the least to be pitied, though I am persuaded he has endured more misery than all the rest. And to conclude, I declare, that the Prince Artibies in lamenting his dead Mistress, is most worthy of compassion, and him whom I most pity, though I am sensible of the miseries of all the rest, except the jealous Leontidas, for whom, I reserve much esteem, but little pity.  
Martesia had no sooner pronounced Sentence, but Leontidas began to speak: Did I not tell you, replied he, that it is one of my misfortunes not to be pitied by any? However, replied Cyrus, I conceive that Martesia is most just in her Judgement. The respects which I owe her, said Thimocrates, prevents my complaints: I am not so reasonable as you are, said Philocles, for I confess that I do complain a little. For my part, said Artibies, I do much commend her, since truly the pity of this illustrious Lady, is the greatest consolation that I have received since my loss.  
Since now it was very late, Cyrus did rise up after many applauds of Martesia. Aglatidas and Erenice did the same: and after Cyrus had discoursed a while in private with Martesia, concerning his Dear Princess, he went out, accompanied with all those illustrious, but unfortunate Lovers, and went unto Ciaxares, with a mind wholly possessed with his own passion, and with the Idea of Mandana in it, which no terene thought could remove out of his heart.   
The End of the first Book.   

ARTAMENES, OR CYRUS the GREAT. The Second Part. Book. II.  
THe thoughts of Cyrus were wholly employed concerning the Delivery of his Princess, and therefore he disoursed with Ciaxares, whom he found in his Closet, thinking upon nothing but preparations for the Armenia War. That which did most impede the Expedition in both their fancies, was the Town of Pteria, which yet being in the hands of Artaxes, there was no likelihood of the Armenian Progress before it was taken. Yet to engage themselves in a Siege, amidst their great impatience to deliver Mandana, was so harsh a thought, that they could hardly resolve upon it. But yet not withstanding, since they had good intelligence, that very small Forces were within it, being most of them dispersed since the King of Assyrias departure: and understanding also, that the two thousand men which Metrobates sent for the last time, were also dispersed by the way, and never returned back: When they heard that the Army of Ciaxares had entered Sinope, by Scalado, it was resolved upon, that Cyrus, with some Regiments should attempt to take it: But the next morning, intelligence was brought, that the Inhabitants of Pteria, hearing that Artamenes was delivered, and that he was Cyrus, consulted secretly amongst themselves, and resolved to return as soon as they could under the obedience of their lawful Prince; and to prevent the punishment which they deserved by a generous repentance: so that having plotted the design, they killed Artaxes, and all the Soldiers in the Garrison; that they had taken the Castle, and were absolute Masters of the Town, and sent the Keys thereof unto Cyrus by six of the Chief Inhabitants of the Town, beseeching him to present them unto the King. This news did extremely rejoice these two Princes, who did very graciously receive these repentant Rebels; as generously pardoning them, as they did generously execute their design. Nothing was now thought upon, but an hasty March with the Army into Armenia: and indeed, after a general Muster of all their Regiments, it was resolved that the Vanguard should be drawn forth within six days, and should advance as far as the Frontiers, whether all the rest should presently follow. The mind of Cyrus was then high with hope; for seeing so great and gallant an Army, and so many Kings, Princes, and illustrious men engaged in his Quarrel, he had a good foundation for so much confidence, as to think the Victory almost certain: It was also to be thought that if the King of Armenia would not restore the Princess, nor acknowledge that she was within his Dominions, it was because he desired that they should offer to discharge him of that Tribute which he owed unto the Kings of Media: Yet Cyrus for all this was much troubled to imagine what was become of the King of Pont, of whom Megabises did not speak, and of whom he heard no speech at Artaxates. But hoping to be are long cleared of all his doubts and fears, by delivering Mandana, he was as gay, and pleasant as any absent lover could be, who was in hopes ere long to see his Mistress, and vanqnish his enemies. Never was he more sweet and civil to all the Officers and soldiers then now: he was perpetually employed in obtaining something from Ciaxares for them, who having renewed in his heart all the old affection which he had heretofore towards him when he thought him to be only Artamenes, was pleased to consent unto what soever he required from him, now he was known to be Cyrus. Aglatidas, who was none of those whom Cyrus least esteemed, came unto him one morning, and importuned him to obtain for Otamus the Government of the Arisantines Province, which was now vacant by the death of him who formerly enjoyed it. For Otamus? (said Cyrus unto him with much wonder:) Yes, Sir, (said he) it is for Otamus that I beg this favour, or indeed to say better, it is for the fair Amestris; for be pleased to know, that I am informed by a Letter from Artaban, that there is a man, who is a mortal enemy unto Artambares, her father, labours to obtain it from Ciaxares, therefore Sir, I most humbly beseech you be pleased to prevent him, so that the incomparable Amestris, whom they say is extremely melancholy and solitary, may not receive this addition unto her sorrows: for since all her estate is in that province, it would be a great discomfort unto her, to see the grand enemy of her family a Governor over her.  
It is very right, answered Cyrus, but were it not more just if I should obtain it for yourself, rather than for Otamus? since thereby the King would be better served, and the estate of Amestris no less protected. Your goodness is abundant Sir, replied Aglatidas, to offer such an honour unto me, Yet Sir if you will be pleased to oblige me, do not think of doing any thing for a man whose love surmounts his ambition, and who courts nothing but death to finish all the sorrows he endures, therefore since I cannot accept of this Government, I conjure you Sir, once more, to obtain it for Otamus: I shall do it, said Cyrus unto him, but it shall be upon condition that you let Amestris know, it is yourself who has done her this good office. Aglatidas would not consent unto that; and Cyrus was forced to consent unto his desire without any conditions: Since Ciaxares was not able to deny any thing unto him to whom he was a debtor for all, Cyrus no sooner asked but obtained this Government, and the very same hour, sent unto Ecbatan with orders accordingly for it: Yet did Ciaxares wonder what reason Cyrus had for this request, knowing that Otamus was a stranger unto him, and though he did know, yet could he never love him. This made such a noise in the Court, that every one was inquisitive, by what motives Cyrus did it: and Megabises, who knew how the interest of Amestris was concerned in it, was he who first hit upon the business, and who imagined that Cyrus was moved unto it at the request of Aglatidas: so that every one did presently after know it, and admired his generosity: The same day, there arrived an Envoy or Messenger from the King of Assyria, who hearing by the public voice at the place where he was retired since his departure from Pteria, that the principal reason why they retained Cyrus a Prisoner, was because he was accused for suffering him to escape, and for holding intelligence with him, he resolved to pay that debt which was due to generosity, and to acquit and justify him, from that unjust accusation. Cyrus no sooner knew that this Messenger was arrived at Sinope, but he went immediately unto Ciaxares, saying he would not see him, but in his presence. Ciaxares told him very obligingly, that to remember his past errors was something injurious unto him: but yet for all that, Cyrus prevailed, and the King of Assena's Messenger was brought before Ciaxares. After he had presented his Letters of Credence, at that Ciaxares was wiling to hear him; Sir, (said he unto him) I have orders from the King my master to tell you, for the justification of Artamenes, who in my coming hither I understand to be Cyrus, that it was not he who helped the King my Master to escape out of Prison, and that Cyrus never held any intelligence with him which was repugnant unto that service which he owes you; But since I find him at liberty, I conceive it impertinent to insist any longer, as my orders enjoined me, to clear his innocency therein. I had it in charge also to tell you, that if you would set him at liberty, as my commission was most humbly to desire you, then to declare unto you afterwards, that he intended to make no war any longer against you, nor against any else but those only that were protectors unto the ravisher of the Princess Mandana: That therefore he offers unto you all those forces which he is now levying within that little part of his Dominion●, which your powerful Army has yet left him: He offers also his own person, if you will be pleased to promise him security from danger: and in conclusion assures you, that he will never attempt any thing against you. He commanded me also to make it known, if it were possible, unto the illustrious Artamenes, that he thought it to be Artaxes, who sent the Letter unto Metrobates, because it was from the hand of Artaxes he had received a copy, which he would have made pass for an original: and to find it out, he had brought with him the writing which the King his Master had given him, as if it were the hand of Artamenes, which indeed was found to be the hand of Artaxes, who durst not reveal unto the King of Assyria, that plot which he had laid to ruin Cyrus. Ciaxares, comparing the relation of passages which Chrisantes had made unto him, the same day he was set at liberty, unto the relation of this Envoy, was much joyed at it: So that treating him very civilly, he told him, he should receive his answer in the morning; for he had no mind to give him his dispatch then, because he would honour Cyrus by taking his advice in the business. After then this Messenger was retired, and that they might talk with freedom, Cyrus did exactly relate unto Ciaxares what he had promised the King of Assyria, in the top of the Tower in Sinope, when the Prince Mazares was carrying away Mandana. And being now in no such conditions as needed any disguizement, he ingeniously told him, that he had passed his word unto the King of Assyria, as that whensoever fortune should be so favourable unto him, as that he had delivered the Princess Mandana, and removed all those obstacles which did oppose his good fortune, he would never marry her, until he had fought with him. But why (said Ciaxares) did you make him that unjust promise? Because Sir (replied he) when the King of Assyria did unjustly desire me to set him at liberty, and I being faithful unto you, would not consent unto it, I then thought that this Prince might suspect, that I retained him for my own particular interest, as if I were glad to be eased of such a terrible enemy: So to let him see I had no thought in me so unworthy, I made that promise: And to speak sincerely unto you Sir, if I had not promised the same unto him then, I should do it now; nor can I ever live happy, unless I make the King of Assyria confess, that if Fortune favour me in any thing, she shall not do as one that is blind, who dispenceth all her favours without choice; and therefore I conjure you Sir by all the prevalency of my earnest prayers, to let me keep within the limits of our conditions, since for my part I shall never break them. Ciaxares at the first would not consent, but after he had considered the business every manner of way, he resolved to follow himself the conditions of Cyrus, conceiving it would confirm those conquests which he had already made, to have the conquered King of Assyria in his Army; for he knew very well, that those forces which the King of Assyria could bring with him, would not be considerable, not able to make any attempt against him. Then in the morning he told the messenger of that Prince, how since at the present the interests of Cyrus were his own, he should observe and perform all his promises; and that he might assure the King his Master, his person and his forces should be safe in his Army whensoever he would come into it, though the first taking away of Mandana might move him to treat him ill, and that Cyrus should punctually keep his word with him: That which principally induced Ciaxares to do thus was, because he thought he should be better able to prevent the combat of Cyrus, and the King of Assyria, when that Prince was in his Army, then when he was in his own, and his declared enemy. Also by this way he was put out of all fears, that the Princess Mandana should fall the second time into the King of Assyria's power, no● should he need to divide his forces, one part to make head against him, and the other to go into Armenia. He considered further also, that though ill fortune should needs contrive it so, that Cyrus must fight with this Prince, and be overcome, yet he should not be thereby engaged to give the Princess his daughter unto him, since Cyrus was engaged no further than his own interest, and not to cause her to marry him.  
In the mean while, all things being in readiness for a march, Cyrus' desired permission to command the Vanguard, and desired that half of the Persian Regiments might follow him: As Ciaxares could not deny him any thing, he obtained his desire, and resolved to depart only with twenty thousand men, that all the Volunteers should follow; that the King should also march presently after with the body of the Army, and that the Rearguard should be commanded by the King of Hyrcania, the King of Phrygia to be with Ciaxares. Never was seen so much jollity as was amongst those Regiments which were chosen for this Vanguard, nor was ever more sensible sorrow, than was amongst those Officers and soldiers which were not first commanded out, as who should say they apprehended that Cyrus would conquer all without them, and that they should have nothing to do, nor any share in the victory when they came up. Whilst every one was preparing for departure of this illustrious Hero, remembering his promise to the Inhabitants of Sinope, he beseeched Ciaxares to make good his word, and to employ some of his good deeds in the repairing of that Town. Ciaxares was pleased it should be rebuilt out of the public stock, and appointed Ariobantes, who stayed in Cappadocia to keep all in order there, to get Architectors out of Greece, to repair the ruins of fireconsumed Sinope; commanding further, that as there was the Statue of that famous Milesia, called Autolicus, who was the first founder of the Town; so there should be another made for Cyrus, as the second founder, which was done accordingly. Mean while this renowned Prince went to bid adieu unto Martesia, who grieved for his departure; he desired him to restore the picture which she lent him, upon condition to restore it, when he first went unto the Armenian war; but he looking earnestly upon her, Cruel woman, said he unto her, how would you have me conquer, if you take that from me, which must render me invincible: You have brought home so many victories without this help, replied she, that I believe you have no need of it. Cyrus' hearing her say so, thought that she would needs have him restore it, and therefore he grew extremely sad, his countenance changed, his eyes became melancholy, and all so disordered, that Martesia having pity upon him, said, Sir, I am contented to prolong the time, so you will promise to restore this picture of my Princess unto me, when you have delivered her: Cyrus returned thanks with all possible joy, and ask her whether he could serve her in any thing, she told him, how she had a design to be a little nearer Mandana, that she might the sooner see her, when he had set her at liberty, and that she designed to go with one of her cousins, who within this three days would return unto the Frontiers of Armenia, where she dwelled, and therefore she desired him to give her a convoy thither. Feraulus, who was quick to hear this, did what he could to obtain that Commission, but Cyrus obligingly excused it, because he could not be so long without his only confident, unto whom he could freely discourse of his love, and told him, that it was unjust in him to desire his being so near Martesia, whilst he himself was so far from Mandana; and therefore he gave Ortalgues orders to wait upon her, as a convoy in her voyage, with two hundred horse. Martesia beseeched him further, to give Orsanus leave to return unto the King and Queen of Saces, conceiving it just, that since they did him the honour to trust their son the Prince Mazares with him, that he should go and give them a particular account of his loss. Cyrus' remembering how much his dear Princess was obliged unto him, and how careful he had been of Martesia, and because he had been one of those who had helped to deliver her, would let him see, and told him himself, that he should find him very thankful: After that, rewarding him whether he would or no with a very rich recompense, he dismissed him, and then he bid adieu unto Martesia. He asked also the Prince Thrasibulus, whether he desired the restoration of some ships in lieu of those he had lost; but that generous Prince answered him, he should be ashamed to accept of them at this time, but he would first go unto the Armenian war, and there render himself worthy of that glorious protection, which he had promised him. Cyrus' having now nothing to do at Sinope, went to take his leave of Ciaxares, who did embrace him with unparallelled kindness: Those Commanders which went not with him, came to bid him adieu, and testified fresh sorrows, that it was not their good hap to follow him. Cyrus had in his eyes that day such a kind of noble and sprightly fury, as presaged a happy victory; and to speak truth, his Physiognomy did speak him so great and happy, that whosoever saw him, could not imagine it possible he should be overcome. This Prince was of a very aspiring and advantageous talness, and also most exactly made; his head was most admirable handsome; all the art which Medeans used to their hair, was not comparable unto that becomingness which nature only used unto his; the colour, which was as lovely brown as every eye beheld, it was wreathed with a hundred thousand pleasing and delightful curls, negligently hanging down, and lying upon his shoulders; his complexion was most pure and clear, his sprightly eyes were black, full of sweetness and Majesty, his mouth was delicious and smiling, his nose something like an Eagles, the cimetry of his whole face was of a most admirable composure, his countenance most noble, and all his features so high and gallant, that certainly it may be truly said, never man upon earth was in every particular by themselves, and all parts together, better composed than Cyrus; so that whosoever saw him upon the day of his departure from Sinope, mounted upon as fine a horse as ever eye beheld, in his most magnificent and rich suit of Arms, and that day wearing the glorious Scarf of Mandana over it, it was no wonder if all the people in Sinope did follow him out of the Town, with a million of benedictions and wishes of victory, and also with tears at his departure; he was followed by all the Officers and Volunteers, so that this great number of men of quality, all in rich habits, and admirably mounted, did make a most glorious show; the Prince Thrasibulus, the Prince Artibies, Hidaspes, Gobrias, Gadates, Chrisantes, Aglatidas, Megabises, Adusiut, Themocrates, Leontidas, Philocles, Feraulas, and a thousand others were in this illustrious number; yet in the midst of all this glorious tumult, and in spire of all the cares which Cyrus had upon himself, Mandana was continually in his heart and mind; and during all the long march, without neglecting any thing that did become the General of an Army, he failed not in the least circumstance, to do what did become a most faithful lover; but every hour that he could steal from his necessary cares, he dedicated to the memory of Mandana, yet did it not at all prejudice his admirable and providential forecast, but he gave out such orders for the marches and quarters of his Army, that the places of his passages had no cause to complain against his soldiers. After they had marched several days, and at last came within a hundred furlongs of the river Licus, which parts the lesser Armenia from Cappadocia, some Scouts of the Army brought unto Cyrus (who was refreshing his men and horses in a Forest) a man, whom they imagined to be a Spy, yet one who asked to speak with their General; but Cyrus was pleasingly surprised, to see it was Araspes, disguised in the habit of an Armenian Merchant, who was unknown unto the Sicilians, who took him; he embraced him then with joy, and drawing him aside; Well my dear Araspes, (said he unto him) have you been more happy in your expedition then Megabises was? and can you tell us more news of the Princess Mandana, and the King of Pont, than he did? I know Sir, answered he, as much almost as could be known, unless I had seen the Princess Mandana, or heard her named. But to relate what I have learned, I must tell you, how in the habit wherein you see me, and knowing the Armenian language very well, I have been taken for an Armenian, even in Artaxates itself, where the Court does now reside; there did I converse with divers persons, and understand that the King of Armenia does still give out, that the Princess Mandana is not in his Dominions; and that he hath published, the King of Medes does demand her, only as a pretence to make a new war upon him, because of the tribute which he would not pay him: The people also, as I understand, did a long time believe it so, but of late the people have altered their opinions, and every one does think, that the Princess Mandana is at this present in a Castle, not above fifty furlongs from Artaxates towards the Chaldeans, and which is built upon the bank of a little river, which empties itself into Araxes at that place; that which begets this conceit is, because they hear there was two Ladies brought thither, about the same time that it was reported the Princess Mandana came thither; these two Ladies are kept in the Castle, guarded very carefully, and used with great respect: One who saw them, reports, that one of those Ladies is admirably fair, and very melancholy; I enquired as exactly as I could, without danger of discovery, of every particular concerning that Lady, and I find by all circumstances it must be the Princess, for they assured me she was very fair, yellow haired, of a good stature, and of a modest aspect: Besides all this, I myself observed, that the young Prince Phraartes, brother unto the Prince Tigranes, who now is sick in the high Armenia, and he comes thither often very privately, so that it is easily to be imagined, there is some person of great importance in that place. Moreover I must tell you, that going one day into this Castle with a Merchant of Artaxates, whose friendship I had purchased by some trivial presents, in hopes by his means to get entrance, under a colour of curiosity. I did at last get in as far as the first Court, and had certainly seen all the Castle, and all the Gardens, and by consequence the Princess; if by ill luck the Prince Phraartes had not at that time come in. They no sooner knew of his coming, but they endeavoured to conceal us, because they had received an express command to let none enter: As he came in, they caused us to go out in all haste, yet as I went through a passage in the Base Court, I saw that Prince in a Balcone courting a Lady, which seemed unto me to be the Princess Mandana, as I could guests so far off, and in a moment's passing, and seeing only but one side of her head, nor being able to see nothing perfectly, but her stature, and the colour of her hair. This, Sir, is all I can tell you concerning the Princess, and all I could possible gather; for since that time they would not upon any term, permit me to come again into the Castle, nor can I hear any thing concerning the King of Pont: It is not to be doubted (said Cyrus) but that it was the Princess Mandana which you saw, the visits of the Prince Phraartes are insallible testimonies of it; but Araspes, added Cyrus, is this Prince as handsome as his brother Tigranes? I know not Sir (replied he smiling, for he was used always to be very free with Cyrus) for I never had the honour to see the Prince Tigranes, yet I know that Phraartes is not so handsome as the illustrious Artanones. Cyrus' laughed at the discourse of Araspes, and embracing him again, I have done ill, I confess (said he unto him) to ask you such a question, and I deserve your raillary for not ask first, whether the Castle be well fortified, whether the passage over that river be guarded, and whether you think, according to all appearance, the reducing it unto our power will cost us dear? But Araspes, love is such an imperious passion, that its interest will be first considered, and therefore you must excuse me. After this, Araspes told him, that the Castle stood in a Town so great, that it was but weak, that it was very irregular, in respect of its excessive length, that unless it had six thousand resolute men to guard it, it is not impossible to be taken: The difficulty of the business was, because it was within fifty furlongs of the Town of Artaxates, which is the greatest Town of both Armenia's, and all the forces which the King of Armenia had, were quartered in the Suburbs of it. Moreover, since there are not many great towns in this Kingdom, because of the abundance of pasturage, which make all the country infinitely populous, and that so prodigiously full, as when the Inhabitants only do muster into Battalia, they make a terrible show; therefore he beseeched him not to take it ill, if he should advise according to his opinion, not to attempt any thing, until all his Army was come up, and to content himself till then, with seizing upon a passage over the river, which was slenderly guarded, because that what intelligence soever the King of Armenia received, concerning the march of Ciaxares his Army, he could not believe that he would make war upon him in good earnest, but imagined always, that it was only to fright him unto the payment of that tribute which was demanded: Cyrus then gave Araspes thanks for the pains he had taken, and the danger he adventured in his behalf; and causing him to put ●ff his Merchant's habit, and to take a horse of his; he pursued his march, after he had held a Council of War concerning the assaulting of the passage over the river, only to honour the Officers which were with him, for in all Counsels, his own opinion was the resolution of them all: He dispatched a messenger immediately to Ciaxares, to acquaint him with the intelligence of Araspes, and desire of vanquishing reviving in his heart, he hasted forward the march, and prepared to force the passage over the river presently, omitting nothing that a most prudent and courageous Captain could do, upon such an occasion; his design was presently executed, and easily affected: Those trenches which the Armenians kept, being enforced within one quarter of an hour, he became master of the river, and in his enemy's country, and with the loss of not above fifteen or twenty men; he cut in pieces all that made resistance, and entirely defeated them. When he came from Sinope, his intention was to stay at that place with the Army; but since his power was absolute, he altered his first resolution, and resolved to deliver Mandana, if it were possible, before the King came up, conceiving that the fewer men he had to participate in the danger, the more would the Princess be obliged unto him, and also the more glorious would the action be: That which did most prompt him unto this design, was news late come, that Ciaxares finding himself not very well, would defer his advance three days longer; and in respect of that accident, his march would be the slower: but that which did most of all incite him unto this quick expedition, and dangerous attempt, was his consideration of the King of Assyria's coming, and it was odious unto him to think that his Rival should share with him in the glory of delivering his Princess; resolving then to stay no longer, he left two thousand men to keep that pass over the river, and went strait unto the great town of Artaxates, which was situated in a most fertile Plain upon the river Araxes, and near that place, where by the Counsels of Hannibal, another King of Armenia did a long time after cause the new Artaxates to be built. This town had but few Advenues, yet were the walls so weak, and in many places so ruined, that all its strength did consist in the multitude of the Inhabitants, and truly it was so prodigiously vast, that no other heart, but that of Cyrus, durst ever have attempted it: Since he was come so near this huge town, (where the King of Armenia was staying until his Army, which already consisted of ten thousand men, was strong enough to come into the field) he would himself needs go, and discover the situation of the Town and Castle, which he desired to take; and after he had circumspectly viewed and observed all places round, the enemy never daring to appear but a far off, say what Chrisantes and his most faithful servants could unto him, he would hazard all to deliver his Princess. Then he caused twelve thousand men to march in the night unto that place, and he left six thousand at several places to secure his retreat, if need should be, and to guard the passage over Araxes; besides two thousand which he left to make good the pass over the river, which runs between Armenia and Cappadocia. After than he had drawn up his forces near a little wood, and drawn out those who were to make an assault upon the Town and Castle, although he had intelligence that all Artaxates was up in Arms, and all the Townsmen ready to come out against him, yet did not this great heart saint, but on the contrary, the greatness of the danger infusing new spirit into him, he made choice of a little rising ground, which was between the Town and the Castle; and after he had drawn six thousand men into Battalia, upon this hill, and had placed six terrible Engines, which shot great huge stones, to oppose any relief which the King of Armenia expected; he went with four thousand others to assault the town, in which they had placed three thousand soldiers, entrenched some few days before Cyrus came within sight of Artaxates.  
This Assault was given in four several places at once, after that four Rams had battered the Barricadoes, and Walls: and that with so much fury, that the enemies were at the first affrighted: Any who had seen Cyrus bestir himself, would have said he was invulnerable, considering how he exposed himself unto the clouds of his enemy's arrows. The first Assault was commanded by the Prince Thrasibulus: The second by Hidaspes: The third by Aglutydas: as for Cyrus, he would reserve himself to fight within the Town, against any that durst relieve the Castle: The first Breach was on that side where Cyrus stood, and those which defended it, flying with all haste unto another Barricado, were there killed, and helped to enfor 〈…〉 others by their own defeat: Mean while, both Thrasibulus, and Aglatidas, were happy in their attempts, and he Soldiers also, animated by the example of their valiant Commanders, planted Ladders against the walls, so that when the Inhabitants saw themselves assaulted on all sides, they fled to save their lives; some threw down their Arms, and submitted, others in a tumultuous disorder ran away; some to avoid the Sword of their enemy, finding the Bridge too narrow for such a throng, fell into the River, and were miserably drowned: some would have defended the Bridge, but the valour of Cyrus, who never sits down after a victory, did enforce them away, and pursued them: he killed all that resisted, and pardoned all that submitted; he who commanded the men at that pass, was a man of great heart, and was there killed because he would never ask Quarter: and of those three thousand which were placed in that quarter, there was very few which were not either wounded, or taken prisoners. The Prince Artibies, who would needs fight that day as a Volunteer, received two mortal wounds, which did most extremely trouble Cyrus. Mean while, those within the Castle seeing themselves not able to hold out against such valiant Enemies, and the Princess which was in it, promising them great recompenses, if they would render themselves unto this invincible Conqueror, they began to beat a pa●ley, which did so infinitely rejoice Cyrus in hopes to see his dear Mandana presently, that he was never in his life more sensible of any passion then at that time: yet did he much wonder, that the King of Pont, whom he knew to be so gallant and brave, did not appear: How comes it to pass, said he to himself, that I do not see him upon such an occ●sion as this, with Arms in his hands? If he do well remember himself of some good effices which I have done him, why does he not restore unto me my Princess? If he will not restore her, why does he not come out and fight with me? Certainly, said he, he must be either dead, or else some odd policy which I cannot understand causes the King of Armenia to keep him prisoner in this Castle; but all these reflections did quickly vanish out of his mind: his almost certain hopes that he should immediately deliver Mandana, turned all into joy: He parleyed then with the Captain of the Castle, he promised him all his desires, provided he would presently render him the Princess whom he there guarded: and the Captain obeying him, and trusting unto his word, which Cyrus did always keep even with his most mortal enemies, he set open the Gates, let all enter that would, and caused those few Arms which were in it to be laid down: As soon as Cyrus was in the first Court, Where is the Princess? (said he unto the Captain.) She is yonder Sir, (replied he, showing him a walk) where indeed he saw two Ladies coming towards him: his imagination being wholly upon Mandana, he went in all haste unto these Ladies; but coming near, the first Lady lifting up her Cyprus, and presently stopping, as if she were surprised at the sight of Cyrns, he saw one of the fairest objects, doubtless in the world, yet at this time most unsuitable unto his fancy; since he saw, she was not his Princess, he then turned towards the Captain, to accuse him, for so deceiving him: but the Lady addressing herself with a something disordered countenance, Sir, said she unto him, the King of Pont my Brother, was so gallantly treated by you, when he was your prisoner, that I must needs hope for the like favour from you, since you are too generous to deny protection unto one of the most unfortunate Princess upon earth: Cyrus was so troubled, that he had not delivered Mandana, and so surprised to hear that this Lady was Sister unto the King of Pont, that for a while he was not able to answer, yet clearing up his mind, You are not deceived Madam, (said he most cruelly unto her) when you believe I shall treat you with all the respect due unto me of your quality: for though the King your Brother, be him I aim at, and came to seek in Armenia, yet shall I render unto you all the services that are in my power: As this fair Princess was about to answer, Intelligence came unto Cyrus, that there was such a prodigious multitude of people coming out of Artaxates, that his Presence was requisite in the Army: Pormit me then Madam (said he unto her, and taking her by the hand) that I wait upon you unto your Chamber, and there leave you Mistress of the Castle, till I have finished the victory. In saying so, he conducted her unto her lodging, where after a short compliment, and leaving Chrisantes within, to see he wanted nothing, he went down into the Court, where he met some Soldiers and Captains bringing in the Prince Artibies wounded, that he might be there dressed with more conveniency: when Cyrus saw him in that condition, and observing how those which bore him were very weary and weak, and troubled in the carriage of him; yet notwithstanding all the crowd, and all the sorrows of his soul; this Prince did with his own hands help to carry him unto his Chamber and laid him upon a bed, commanding all possible care to be taken of him: After this, Cyrus took horse, and seeing he could not satisfy his love by the delivery of his Princess, he would however satisfy his glory, by doing the boldest act in the world, every step he made, he received intelligence upon intelligence concerning the Troops that were coming out of Artaxates, but how great soever they made the danger appear, yet he went to draw up his own forces, and resolved to fight them though they were an hundred thousand men, if they did begin the Assault: and indeed they were no less, for from the little valley under the Hill, where Cyrus stood, unto Artaxates, all the Country was covered with multitudes of enemies, who seemed as if they intended to fight: for the King of Armenia held a Council of War about it without the walls of the Town, and advanced unto a little Village, which was close by the valley that separated the two Armies & there he made a halt; yet the Great Cyrus kept his station still, continually facing this innumerable multitude of enemies, who stood and durst not fall on: This great business was carried with so much good fortune, and prudence together, that it was six hours after the Castle was taken, before it was known to them of Artaxates.  
In conclusion, after much consultation, the King of Armenian concluded that it was not expedient to fall upon such a Prince, as used to fight like a Lion, and overcome all that came near him. The Prince Phraartis who was pretty gallant, would have put it to the hazard, what ere came on it: but his advice being not followed, because an old experienced Captain maintained, That it was not wisdom with fresh new Troops of Townsmen, untrained in war, to assault Soldiers died in blood, and a General the Greatest in the world, especially he having the advantage of ground. Cyrus was well satisfied with the fight of his enemies, he faced them from morning until night, and would have presented them Battle if they durst have excepted it, though they were above twenty to one. The night came on apace, and covered the shame of the Inhabitants of Artaxates, in re-entering their Town, after they had only seen that Castle taken, which was so very considerable unto them, in respect of the River Araxes, which runs by it: yet was the soul of Cyrus far from satisfaction, and this great and bold act produced nothing but sorrow unto him; for his hopes were so high to deliver the Princess Mandana, that nothing else could answer them: as soon as he saw all the Armenian Troops were entered into their Town, and after he had placed good guards, he went to take his rest that night in the Castle which he took: After he had enquired concerning the state of the Prince Artibies, whom they said was very ill, and after he understood the Princess of Pont was retired; he went into his Chamber only with Feraulas: Well Feraulas, (said he unto him extremely melancholy) what do you now think of my fortune? Do you not confess me to be the most unhappy Prince upon Earth? I think Sir, replied Feraulas, that it is the part of the conquered to complain, and of the conquerors to rejoice; No, no, Feraulas, said he: It is not glory and honour, which is the predominant aim of my heart: and though I had defeated this huge multitude of enemies, which I only looked upon, I should have been still as melancholy as I am: neither Conquests, nor reputation, nor honour, is the mark I now aim at: It is only Mandana, I look after, and since I find her not, I think myself as unfortunate as if I had been vanquished. Araspes lied not, (said he) when he told me he had seen a Lady of quality in the Castle; that she was fair, yellow-haired, and of a good stature; but alas, this Princess as fair as she is, yields me no satisfaction by her sight. I conceive Sir, said Feraulas, that it is considerable, to have got the Sister of the King of Pont into your hands, a Lady of whom I have heard a good report, when I was in the Bythinian war: so that in all probability, it will keep that Prince in some fears. Ah Feraulas, answered he, and sighed, how dear soever the Princess of Pont is to him, Mandana is much more: he will easily dispense with a Sister for a Mistress: If he should have my brother; if I had one, or my father in his power, it would make me to do any thing to release them, but never upon such conditions as to quit Mandana: Also knowing me so well as he does, he will not fear mine ill entertainment of his Sister, although he do not restore Mandana, he knows too well that it is not my Genius to do a base, unjust, and cruel Act; and so since he conceives no danger, he will keep Mandana still.  
But Sir, said Feraulas, are you fully assured that this Lady is the Princess of Pont? Yes, replied he, for now I call to memory a Picture which the wife of Arsamones caused the Princess her daughter to show me, to the end she might discover whether or no I was Spitridates, I do very well see that it is she, for that picture resembles her extremely: But, replied Feraulus, if it be she, I wonder she does not take you for Spitridates, as the Bythinean Princess did? because doubtless, replied Cyrus, the King her brother has formerly acquainted her with out extreme resemblance. But however Feraulas, such things as these, we must not discourse of: Let Mandana, only Mandana be the only object of my thoughts, and the subject of our discourse: did I but know where she was, my Soul would be at some rest: for though she were in Artaxates, I would without staying for Ciaxares, attempt her delivery. Doubtless you might, replied Feraulas, for after this which we have seen; if you do not enforce it, it may well be said, the reason is because you would not; and the inhabitants owe you thanks, for all those miseries which you will not do them, when it is in your power: After they had thus discoursed a good while, Cyrus did lie down upon the bed, more to rest himself then to sleep; but he had not leisure to do that, for one came to tell him; that the Prince Artibies was at the last gasp, and desired to see him: He did rise immediately, and went unto him Walso he found him at the very point of death, but in so free a mind, and quiet so us, that Cyrus was surprised at him: I am desperately forty, (said he unto him, coming here him) that I should be partly a a cause of your deplorable condition: No, (most generously did this dying Prince answer) rather rejoice with me, who since the death of Leontina, looked for nothing from the wars but ruin: I could never in any place have died with more honour, then near you; nor shall I desire life, but shall die with more joy than I can express, if you will promise me to cause my ashes to be enclosed within the Tomb of Leontina: In pronouncing this name, which was so dear unto him, he expired without the least motion, by reason of his great loss of blood: yet had he this satisfaction before he died, to hear Cyrus' promise what he desired, for he weakly held out his hands, and cast his eyes towards him, by way of thanks: That which was most admirable in this sad accident was, that death did not affright out of his countenance those pleasing signs of desire to die, which he ever more since the death of his Mistress. The heart of Cyrus was exceedingly tendered at the loss of this young Prince, who doubtless did own all the accomplished qualities that might merit his esteem and friendship: he testified his sorrow by most apparent signs: and though his Tomb was covered with the spoils of vanquished enemies, and hung about with Trophies of broken Arms, yet was it further honoured, in that his ashes were watered with the tears of the greatest Prince in the world: In the mean while, day did begin to break, and intelligence was brought that there was so great a Tumult within Artaxates, and such an universal amazement, that the King of Armenia was gone out of it with his whole Court, and a great part of his Forces, retreating unto certain inaccessible Mountains, where he had some Castles very well fortified, he understood also that the King had carried the Queen his wife, and the Princesses his daughters with him: and he imagined that perhaps Mandana might be there also: his desire was to go after them immediately: but he was confidently told that before he could be in readiness to see forward, the King of Armenia would be got within his Sanctuary, where he had nothing to fear but famine. Yet since Cyrus would not trust unto what was told him, he took horse, after he had commanded an Egyptian Chirurgeon which was in the Cyprian Brigado, to embalm the Corpse of the Prince Artibies, after such as excellent manner as was used in his Country, and which would keep the Corpse a long while is corruptable: he gave orders also to present a complimentive excuse unto the Princess of Pont, that he could not see her until his return, and these orders being given, he went with two hundred horse only; to be showed these Mountains, and indeed he perceived it impossible to arrive thither in any time: he then resolved to go and possess himself of some advantageous placed betwixt those Mountains and the: Town to prevent any communication between them: But no sooner did tho●● which were appointed for that design under Hidaspes begin to march, but the Inhabitants of Artaxates multiplying their fears, had held a tumuluous council, and conceived it more safe for themselves, to submit unto such a Conqueror as; Cyrus; then any longer to rest such an 〈◊〉 Prince: They sent then Deputies unto him, to beg 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and that in such submission terms as if his whole Army had been at their Gates: As he was the sweetest prince upon Earth unto all such as resisted him not, so he desired no more from them, but a bare oath of Fidelity: he did not conceive it expedient, with so few Forces as he had, to ●ngage himself within that Town, but contented himself, to possess himself of both the ends of Artaxes, and some Castles which were indifferent strong, in divers Entrances into Artaxates, to the end he might thereby take all relief away from the King of Armenia, and all ma 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 communication between the town, and the mountains▪ where he was: 〈◊〉 continued his design of sending Hidaspas with twelve hundred men only to the foot of the mountains, 〈…〉 by to prevent the country from carrying in of provisions; after all which he resolved to wait un●●il Ciaxares came up, before he would make any other; attempts; and 〈◊〉 he had given our all expedient and necessary orders, he returned unto the Castle 〈◊〉 whence he came, with much impatience to discourse with the Princess of Pont, imagining, that perhaps she could tell where the King her brother was, and by consequence where the Princess Mandana was.  
Having then rested himself a while, and put himself into a fit and handsome garb to appear before her, he sent to ask whether he might be permitted the honour to see her: As she did no less desire it then he, though for different reasons, so she sent word back, that she should be very glad to entertain his visit; so that going immediately unto her, he was received with all possible civility, and he rendered her all the submission and reverence, as if she were in Heraclea. After the first complimental ceremonies were performed; Sir, said she unto him, if fortune had been as favourable unto the King my brother, as you were unto him in procuring his release, I would not have lost those Kingdoms which he once possessed: I know not Madam (replied Cyrus) whether the King of Pont has not been a greater gammer by the loss of his Kingdoms, than he would have been in keeping them: But I am most certain, that I prefer that favour which fortune has bestowed upon him since he lost them, before all he had before she deprived him of them; and I wish unto the Gods with all my heart, that he were reinvested, and set upon those Thrones again which he has right unto, upon condition he would restore that unto which he has no right at all. This discourse is so obscure unto me, (said the Princess of Pont) that I am not able to return a pertinent answer; for indeed I know very well, that the King my brother has lost the Kingdom of Pont, and Bythinia also; that he was forced to depart from the last town that was left him, and to fly away in a Ship to seek security for his person from you; but I do not know how Fortune which deprived him of this Throne, has made him a gainer since: But I understood since, that he was not with you, and I was told, the last (without any certainty) that he was here in Armenia, whether I came to seek him, yet cannot find him. How Madam, said Cyrus, is not the King of Pont, and the Princess Mandana in Armenia? I do not believe, answered she, that the King my brother is here; and though he were, indeed I cannot imagine how the Princess Mandana should come hither. Cyrus' seeing with what free ingenuity this Princess spoke unto him, told her all, how the King of Pont had saved the Princess Mandana from shipwreck; how he left his ship, and took boat up the river Halis to come into Armenia; so that Madam, said he, I do not see it possible but he must be here, and I wonder you should not know it: I have had so little liberty, said she, since I came into Armenia, that it is not impossible but he may be here, and yet I not know it: But Sir, how can it be, that he, of whom you speak, who has divers times spoken unto me concerning you, as the man, whom of all the world he most esteems, though he knows not your quality, should any way disoblige you? He, I say, whom you have so much obliged, he unto whom you gave both life and liberty, and he who had an intention to preserve you, at a time when you were in danger: He never had any intention to destroy me, replied Cyrus, but he has most cruelly wronged me: Ah Sir, said she, he did not describe Artamenes unto me, to be so unjust, as that he should think it to be a wrong, which was done without design; nor can I think him changed, since he was Cyrus; he is not changed at all, replied he, for he loves the Princess Mandana now, as he loved her then, although the King of Pont did not know it then, so that Madam, you may easily judge, he does not at all oblige me in carrying away the Princess, and retaining her against her will. I should not speak thus unto you Madam, said he, if the affection I bear unto her were not now known over all Asia, and if I were not forced to justify myself ●o the opinion of so excellent a Lady as you; Sir, said she unto him, I can say nothing to it, yet for your consolation let me tell you, that the King my brother owes such a profound reverence unto the Princess Mandana, that you need not fear any ill treatment of her; and if I knew where he were, I would beg of you permission to go and try whether I could move him to restore her unto her father. Cyrus' returned thanks unto this Princess with much affection, and she discourse on both sides was ●o very obliging, that Cyrus did wonder to find a disposition so ready to do him any good office in the Sister of his Rival. It is very true, she was so handsome, and so amiable, that it was impossible but one must needs esteem her infinitely, and be in terms of friendship, though not in love with her. Moreover, since she found in Cyrus the resemblance of a person, who was most dear unto her, she expressed more obliging civility towards him, than she perceived in herself, so that for three or four days Cyrus did visit her every spare hour, wherein he did not visit some guard or other, and a great friendship grew betwixt them; for after Cyrus had satisfied the curiosity of this Princess, by making a short relation of his fortunes unto her; and since he assured her, that if the King her brother would restore the Princess Mandana, he would help him to recover his lost Kingdoms; she thought the condition good, and she herself also believed, that as soon as the King of Pont should know, that Artamenes is Cyrus, and that Cyrus did love, and was loved by Mandana, he would change his design: So that conceiving she ought not to look upon this Prince, as the King her brother's enemy, she regarded him, as both her, and his protector, and as a Prince, who perhaps would become a Mediator between the King of Pont, and the new King of Bythinia; so that she enjoyed pleasure and satisfaction in the sight and conversation of Cyrus: This Prince was for some certain days a little troubled to observe, that this Princess never saw him, but she changed colour, and sighed often when she looked upon him: But remembering the picture which was showed him in Bythinia, he concluded, that Spitridates, whom he resembled, was not only in love, but it must needs be, that he was loved also: and since he had great hopes in the negotiation of this Princess, with the King her brother, when it was known where he was, and since he knew that there was nothing so engaging, as to be a confident unto one who is in love, and he knew how to carry the matter so handsomely without too much pressing, so that I moved her ingeniously to acquaint him with the misfortunes of her life, to the end some expedient remedies against them might be applied, and that he might find out means to prevent her misfortunes, as she would his, if it were possible. One morning when Cyrus heard that Ciaxares would come up within three days, and that the King of Armenia had not any victuals to hold out long, his mind being in more tranquillity, by reason of his hopes to be satisfied from the King of Armenia himself, where her he sought for was, he went unto the Princess of Pont, to put her in mind of her promise; but though she was very willing to give him satisfaction, yet had she no mind that her adventures should come out of her own mouth, but that one which was with her, who was well acquainted with every circumstance, even to the least of her thoughts, might make a relation of them. Cyrus' consented unto the motion, and for the present retired, but presently after dinner he returned unto her chamber, where he found her who was to relate the misfortunes of the Princess of Pont, who was herself gone into her Closet with some Armenian women which waited upon her: This Lady who was to make the relation, was called Hesionida, one of very good quality, originally from Bythinia, whose mother was Governess unto the Princess, and who indeed was a kind of Governess herself unto her; for since she was six or seven years elder than Araminta, her mother, who was very old and sickly, committed the charge unto her, so that she was exactly knowing in all the passages of that Court; and since she had a most charming wit, and was very sweet and complacential in all just things, she made the Princess of Pont, even adore her. Cyrus, who knew the quality of Hesionida, by the information of one of the Princess men, did treat her very civilly, and full as respective compliments returned as given: Then did they sit down, and thus did Hesionida begin.  

The History of the Princess ARIMINTA, and SPITRIDATES.  
THe order which I have received from the Princess, to make an exact relation unto you of her misfortunes, requires, Sir, that you arm yourself with abundance of patience, for they are so numerous, that they cannot be comprehended in a short story: and necessity compels me to let you understand, not only those which relate only to the Princess herself, but those also which concern her father; the usurpation of the Kingdom of Bythinia is the real cause of all those miseries she endures: You Sir, who has won so many battles thereabouts, do know, that a river only divides the Kingdom of Pont, and the Kingdom of Bythinia, so that it is not at all strange, that an ambitious King of Pont should stretch his limits over it: But I believe, that the course he took will appear so unjust unto you, that you will hardly endure so much as the relation of it. Be pleased to know, Sir, that the Grandfather of the Princess Ariminta, was a very violent Prince, one that was most jealous of his authority, and as adventurous as any man in the world, all his life was wholly taken up in wars with his Neighbours, sometimes against the King of Phrygia, other while against the King of Cappadocia and Galatia, and sometimes against the King of Paphlagonia; but in all these wars he was continually assisted by the King of Bythinia, which then reigned, who was father unto Arsamones, who now is upon the reconquest, yet notwithstanding he bore a spleen in his heart against him, because he once opposed a new war, which he would needs undertake against Cappadocia, without any ground or reason for it; for since Bythinia was between the Kingdom of Pont and Galatia, he could not make any attempts upon it, unless that Prince gave him a passage through his Dominions, which he refused to do. After this, he always looked upon Bythinia, as a great Obstacle unto his ambitious designs: But Sir, it befits me, to pass this over very slightly; for since I am originally a Bythinian, the love of my Country may perhaps make me speak more than is fit, considering the respect which I am obliged to render unto those Kings, from whom the Princess whom I serve is descended; yet must I not make that crime a secret, which is publicly known unto so many Kingdoms, since it is the very foundation of all I shall tell you. Be pleased to understand then in few words, that the King of Pont, desiring to confer with the King of Bythinia, about some important affairs, which he said concerned them both, both these Kings drew towards their Frontiers, and since the river Sangar is the limits unto both of those Kingdoms, they made choice of a most pleasant Island, wherein there was a very fair house, fit for this interview, which was made ready with all possible magnificence: But yet since this Isle belonged unto the King of Pont, he therefore was at all the expenses of these feasts, which lasted three days in all imaginable prodigality and splendour: The last of these three days the King of Bythinia was seized upon with so sudden and violent a sickness, that the Physicians did give him over, and it was impossible that he should be transported out of this Isle, where the King of Pont stayed with him, expressing so many testimonies of real sorrow, that all the world were deceived in him, and especially the King of Bythinia more than any else. This Prince then, having only one son, about six years of age, and having buried the Queen his wife, seeing himself in this extremity, and thinking to prevent the King of Pont, whom he knew to be of an ambitious humour, from usurping Bythinia, he would declare him Governor over the Prince his son; so that being in this deplorable condition, unto which all the Kingdom believed he was brought, by a poison which the King of Pont had given him, he assembled all the Grandees of Bythinia, which waited upon him, to this interview, and declared unto them, how he intended the King of Pont, during the minority of his son, should have the Government of his Dominions, and disposure of all things, with this proviso yet, to confer the offices of Government only unto the Bythinians. The King of Pont made a show, as if he were unwilling to accept of this offer; but at the last, this unfortunate Prince pressing him more urgently unto it, he promised him to preserve the Crown of Bythinia, as his own; and he spoke with so much seeming generosity, that he caused him to die a satisfied, though a violent death. Though all the Grandees of Bythinia did seem to approve of this resolution, not daring to desire their dying King, yet after he was dead, reports of poison making great noise, they opposed against it, and made use of the guards unto the late King to secure the person of their young Prince, who was within fifty furlongs of that place, in a Castle where the Kings of Bythinia used to bring up their children, until such times as they were fit to be taken out of the hands of women: But the King of Pont foreseeing such a design, caused all the Garrisons of all the towns along the river, secretly to redouble their guards, so that in drawing them out, he quickly made up a little Army, with which he seized upon the person of the young Prince, and made himself master of Bythinia, procuring the favour of some Grandees in the Kingdom by golden arguments. After this, he returned into Heraclea, where he educated the young Prince Arsamones; at the first, he caused all honour's due unto a King of Bythinia to be rendered unto him, to the end he might the handsomer deceive the Bythinians, and allure them to receive his orders: But afterwards, when he had well established himself, he published a Declaration, by which he would make it appear, that the late King of Bythinia did acknowledge his Kingdom had been formerly usurped from the Kings of Pont; and by which he said, that the late King desired his son should be only a subject unto him, who now reigned: In short Sir, Force, not Justice was his Law, and Arsamones was now created only as a Prince, not a King, and was indeed no more than a Slave which is loaded with heavy chains of gold, he wore them with an unexampled patience and dissimulation: Those who use to dive deep into the reason of things, could not comprehend why the King of Pont should put the father to death, yet spare the son: but whether it was out of fear, to force the Bythinians unto a war against him, or that he was restrained from it by a predominate power of the Gods, which would not suffer him, yet he did it not: Arsamones then lived as a subject, and married a Bythinian Princess, which was permitted, because she was not rich; but in recompense thereof, she was at that time admirable fair, and at this time as virtuous as fair; than you know Sir her virtues and condition as well as I do, since you were with her, when you were taken for the Prince Spitridates; he permitted also a sister unto the King, whom he had imprisoned, to marry the Prince Gadutes, yet it was because Nitecris Queen of Assyria, did procure it. Mean while the King of Pont, who had only one son died, and Arsemones changed Masters, though not condition; for indeed Sir, this new King of Pont and Bythinia, father of the Princess Araminta, although he was not so criminal as the King his father; yet finding himself in possession of two Crowns, he kept them, and never would hearken unto any restitution, so that Arsemones was forced to dissemble still, and seem to be contented with his fortune, because he had no power to make it better: for the King of Pont was then in amity with all his Neighbours, and Arsemones had neither any troops, nor money to raise them. Mean while Sir, the King of Pont had two sons, and one daughter, and the Prince Arsamones had one daughter, and two sons, the elder of which is Spitridates, who so much resembles you: As the Queen of Pont died very young, so the Princess Araminta was but five years old when she lost her mother: and as my mother had the honour of that great Queen's love, she moved the King her husband, to confer the Government of the Princess Araminta upon her: But to show you the piety and virtue of this Princess, I need only tell you, that she appointed my mother to cherish as much as she could, a love and friendship between her children, and the children of the Prince Arsamones, wishing heartily, that he might hereafter become so generous, as to restore the Kingdom of Bythinia unto the right heir. You may be pleased to conceive Sir, that she did most willingly obey so just a command; and truly there was no great difficulty to beget a love amongst them, since they were all so amiable; and it must needs be acknowledged, that never was a more jolly sight, than this little Court of young Princes and Princesses: But amongst the rest, the amity between Spitridates' eldest son of Arsamones, and the Princess Araminta, was extraordinary; for the first of these two Sir, you need only to remember your own infancy, to imagine him, since truly there is a most wonderful resemblance betwixt you and him; and as for the Princess of Pont, you need only to look upon her, and judge, that she was fair from her cradle: The sister of Spitridates, named Aristea, is also, as you know, very fair; and the Prince Sinnesis, elder brother unto Ariandus, who is now King of Pont, was of a good stature, and handsome, as well as his brother, whom you do know; and the youngest son of Arsamones, called Euriclides, as also a very handsome Prince, of these Sir, did the Court of Pont consist; so that since peace on all sides seemed now to be solidly established, there was no thoughts but upon the education of these young Princesses and Princes, and to contrive all the pleasant recreations their ages were capable of: The King of Pont himself, out of policy, did command my mother to do the same, which the Queen his wife had appointed her to do out of virtue; for he conceived, that if his eldest son should marry a daughter of Prince Arsamones, that would more confirm the possession of the Kingdom of Bythinia in his house. The state of things standing thus, all the recreations of these young children were together; their walks, their hunt, their balls, their musics, caused them continually to be together; and I dare affirm, that their education was such, as made them cease, being children, much sooner than their age permitted them; and though they lived together with all equal civility, yet their inclinations began to make some difference, and I perceived that Spitridates did much more respect the princess Araminta, than the prince Euriclides his brother: I observed also at the same time, that the prince Sinnesis was more indulgent towards the princess Aristea, than he who is now the King of Pont: And since my mother had acquainted me with the King's intentions, and also with the Queens, to the end I might be serviceable that way, I was even ravished to see so happy a beginning in the design, and I believe also, that the prince Arsamones, and the princess Arbiana his wife did like it well. I perceived then that love did kindle in these two young hearts, and I saw them love one another, and knew it not themselves; for Sinnesis and Spitridates did render a thousand petty services unto those princesses which they adored, not knowing they were in love, more than the princesses whom they loved. But the princess Ariminta being in her fourteenth year, and the prince Spitridates his sixteenth, they began to be sensible of their passions: The joy which he was wont to have when he saw the princess became more moderate, and though she used her accustomed civility towards him, yet was he not so well satisfied, as before; his heart moulded such desires, as that he did not know what he himself desired, but not knowing very well what he wanted to complete his good fortune, he became very melancholy: As the princess Araminta did very much esteem him, and as he pleased her eye better than any she saw in the Court, so she was the first which perceived it, and asked me whether or no I knew from whence this alteration in the humour of the prince Spitridates did arise; and when I answered her, that I knew not, she told me, that it much troubled her, and that she would ask him the reason herself. Madam, said I unto her, and smiled, it is not always fit to be so inquisitive; how do you know, whether the prince Spitridates would have the cause of his melancholy known? And why should be hide it (answered she unto me) from one that would pity him, if I could not help him? He would hide it perhaps (said I unto her, and laughed) because he does not know the cause himself. Ah Hesionida, said she unto me, Spitridates is too full of reason to be troubled without a cause, and if I thought that were all, I would quickly cure him. As I was ready as answer, the princess Aristea came in, and a little after her the valiant Pharnaces, who had the honour to be the last man that fought with you in the combat of two hundred; and also at the same time, the coward Artanus came in, who accompanied Spitridates thither. After their conversation had continued a pretty while, the prince Sinnesis made a motion unto his sister the princess to go and walk, she was so complacential as to consent. This prince was then sixteen years old, and the princess Aristea fifteen; and I believe he had already expressed some slight marks of his passion unto her, which she knew of, but neither much accepted, nor rejected them. When they were in the garden, the prince Sinnesis, after she had talked a while with the princess his sister, presented his hand unto the princess Aristea, and Spitridates took the princess Araminta by the hand, and so they walked; so that Pharnaces and Artanus seeing that their aims were prevented already by Spitridates, went away in a jealous fit. Mean while, the small experience of this young Lady causing me to fear that she would too urgently ask Spitridates the thoughts of his heart, I followed presently after, and handsomely turned the discourse another way: for since my mother, as I told you before, was both sickly and aged, and since I was six or seven years elder than the princess, I was a kind of an under-governess, the King appointing it so, and the princess was glad of it, because she did me the honour to love me. But Sir, to return unto my discourse, the princess Arbiana being come into the garden, intending to speak with me concerning some important business, I was constrained to leave the prince and princess, and by consequence to leave them at liberty to discourse together, for the prince Sinnesis did not at all molest them, being busied enough in his Courtship with the princess Aristea: Since we walked ten or twelve paces behind them, I could not hear their words, but only guests by their manner of actions. But in the end, I saw the princess Araminta come suddenly towards us, saying she was weary with walking, and would rest herself; so that leaving Spitridates, she fat down upon seats of grass. I observed all the passage very exactly, and saw Spitridates blush in quitting the princess, and she also blushed, though she did hide it with her Hood: All the rest of the day she seemed much disquieted, though she did strive to hide it with all her care: Upon her return unto her chamber, she went into her Closet, and called none of her women with her, as she was accustomed; I went in unto her, and found her leaning against the window in a serious deep study. Madam, said I unto her, and laughed, since you did not think it unhandsome to ask the prince Spitridates what was the cause of his melancholy, I hope you will not think it impertinent in me, if I ask you, what's the cause of your musing at this time. At the first she would have persuaded me, that she mused no more than ordinary, yet seeing she could not; But Hesionida, said she unto me, did you not tell me it was not good to be too inquisitive? Yes Madam, replied I unto her, but I am not the princess Araminta, nor are you the prince Spitridates, so that without any fear of offending, I have reason to ask what it is which troubles you, since my only end is to help it, if it be in my power. Truly Hesionida, (said she unto me) there is nothing in my mind which vexes me. Truly Madam, replied I, there is something which does trouble you, and if you will not do me the honour to tell it unto me, I shall think that the prince Spitridates has discovered unto you the cause of his melancholy, and that it has infected you: The Gods preserve me, said she unto me hastily: You know then Madam what it is, said I unto her.  
The Princess blushed seeing she could not deny it, and coming nearer me with the greatest ingenuity and sweetness in the world; It is true, said she unto me, I do know it; and if you did but know how angry and ashamed I was, doubtless you would extremely pity me. But Hesionida, said she, why did you not desire me more earnestly than you did, not to ask Spitridates, the cause of his melancholy? for I do imagine that you knew it, or at least suspected something. I confess unto you, that the Nonplus of this young Princess, and the anger which I saw in her eyes moved me almost to laugh at her, yet I did restrain it, lest I should have too much incensed her: And after I had entreated her to tell me, what their conference was, and she many times excusing, but at the last consenting unto my desire, told me: You were no sooner entered into discourse with the Princess Arbiana, said she unto me, but being extremely impatient to know what it was which troubled Spitridates, I entered into discourse with him. You are so changed, said she, of late, that all your friends do wonder it, nor can they imagine the cause of your melancholy: I do not think they do, answered he unto her, nor is there any in the world unto whom I will impart it. How, replied she unto him, Is it such a displeasure as you would not have any know it? then it seems you would not have any pity you, or comfort you: I wish the first, replied he unto her, but I dare not wish the second. How can they do either, replied she, when they are ignorant of your sufferings? Did you not tell me, answered he, that all my friends do wonder, and are sorry for my melancholy? and if so, can they not pity me, unless they know the cause of my sorrows? No, not I, answered she, for perhaps you esteem yourself unfortunate in some things, for which I would not pity you at all. What may those things be, replied he, and sighed, for which the Princess Araminta has no compassion? If you should envy at the honour of another, said she, and that trouble you, I would not all pity you for it. But suppose I were in love, answered he, would you pity me then? No, answered she, but on the contrary, I would esteem you much more for it, since every one ought to be in love with honour and glory; But indeed Spitridates, said she, since it is not your mind I should know what it is which torments you, I shall not pity you, but shall believe you think me not discreet enough to keep a secret. Ah Madam, replied he, I do not fear that you would publish that which I should tell you. What do you fear then, (answered she, with such a pretty simplicity, as made him almost desperate.) I fear, answered he, that you would hate me. And why should I hate you, answered she, for trusting me with a Secret? Perhaps you would hate me, answered he, if you should know that Spitridates is not unfortunate in any thing, but in that he loves the fair Princess of Ponts more than he ought: He had no sooner pronounced these words, but immediately I saw (said she) my dead Hesionida, a thousand things which I did not see before, and I was so confounded at my simplicity and innocency, that I durst not look upon him, yet after I had reassumed my confidence, You have reason, (said she, being both angry, and ashamed) to think that the Princess of Pont will hate Spitridates, if he should love her too much, and as your friend I advice you to keep your Secret so close, that none may ever know it. I will obey you, Madam, said he, you yourself shall be the only one in the world, who shall ever know it, or to whom I shall ever reveal it. I no sooner heard him say so, But I was so much ashamed that I came unto you, said she, and returned no answer: After that the Princess had ended her relation with many signs of shame, and anger in her eyes, she asked me, what she should do? And I advised her, to avoid any private conference with Spitridates, as handsomely as she could, without any incivility to him: and to behave herself towards him as to a Prince whom perhaps she might one day marry, and perhaps not: and to carry the matter so with him, that he may esteem you much; and to obtain this esteem, you must be neither too indulgent, nor too scornful unto him: and that since she was very young, I desired her, not to keep any thing which Spitridates should say unto her, or she answer him, as a Secret from me, because it was very dangerous to trust one's self with a business so nice as this was, especially in an age so young as hers. This young and wise Princess did promise what I desired, and indeed, did most exactly keep her word, and do whatsoever I desired her.  
As Spitridates was one of the most wise and discreet young Princes in the world, he did for a while content himself, that he had discovered his passion unto the Princess Araminta, without any further persecution, fearing she should treat him ill. Insomuch as seeing him live in such a moderate and discreet reservedness, I did imagine that this young Princess perhaps knew not yet the difference between a bare piece of Gallantry, and Courtship, and a real declaration of love, since there is used, for aught I can hear, the same language, both for the one and the other, and that there is nothing which makes the difference between them, but the tone of the voice, and the manner of pronouncing words: so that I did believe this was all his meaning in it, and I would have made the Princess believe as much, who out of modesty did give credit unto what I told her, though that belief had no ground in the bottom of her heart. Mean while the Prince Sinnesis, who was of a more froward spirit than Spitridates, and who, as things than stood, had not so great a respect unto the Princess Aristea, as Spitridates had unto Araminta, did openly discourse of his passion; yet do what he could, he could never obtain one favourable look from that Lady: she carried herself indeed very civilly unto him, yet it was, as being the Son of the King of Pont, and as Brother unto the Princess Araminta, with whom she held a great intimacy, not at all as being her Lover. All the Court were puzzled to find out the cause of this her cold aversion to him, for they all knew, that if Aristea did not marry the Prince Sinnesis, she should never be Queen: for my part I ever thought, that her reason why she treated him in that manner, was because of the incertainty in his design, and that as soon as the King should speak unto Arsamones concerning it, she would then alter her course with him: Mean while, Sir, the Princess Araminta, did darken all the beauties in the Court, and in all Heraclea, with the splendour of her beauty: and since there was none but only Aristea, which did not seem ugly in her presence, she conquered a thousand hearts, and without any design o● hers, did captivate a thousand Slaves. Amongst the rest, the valiant Pharnaces, and the Coward Artanus were so captivated, that they could not conceal their passions from all the Court, though fain they would have kept them secret; Not but that they were both of them of the prime quality in all the Kingdom: yet durst they not look so high: but love is of its own nature a mysterious secrecy: and moreover the gallant Air of this young Princess made them afraid to discover themselves: They were most assiduous in waiting upon her, yet so full of respect, that she could find no fault with their proceedings, since at this time, Artanus was very young, his cowardice was not yet discovered, and since he had a good wit, and not unhandsome, he was well enough esteemed on, and received into company as a man of his quality should be. As for Pharnaces, Sir, I need not speak of his Gallantry, since the last act of his life speaks better for him then I can. But let me tell you, that he was one of those real Heroes, which use to look with fury in the face of their enemies, and with pleasing favour in his ordinary conversation: he was both wise and modest; and though he spoke but little, yet had he a pleasant wit, because whatsoever he said was so just, and premeditated, that it was agreeable to all hearers: he was also much esteemed Princes, and Princesses; and amongst the rest, he who now is King of Pont, (but then only Prince Ariandes) loved him extremely. Thus Sir, (you see the state of things, the Princess Araminta was courted by Spitridates, Pharnaces, and Artanus: the Prince Sinnesis loved the Princess Aristea, and also loved Spitridates very well: and the Prince Argandes, not being in love with any, no more than the Prince Euriclides, contracted a most intimate friendship with Pharnaces. In all public feasts, at Horse-races, B●lls, Walkings, all these Lovers appeared according to their particular designs; and the Court of Pont for a while, was one of the most gallant and pleasant Court in all Asia: Since Phrygia, and Lydia were near, Musicians out of both those Kingdoms were procured, which much augmented their delights, and since Heraclia is certainly one of the goodliest Towns, that ever the Grecians built, and the Country about it most pleasant, not only because of the Sea, which lies on one side, but also because of a great and delightful River, which runs under the walls: and it may well be said, that all innocent diversions and pleasures in the world, did reign in the Pontean Court: For the King, as I already told you, did out of policy desire that Sinnesis should marry the daughter of Arsamones, and that Spitridates should marry the Princess Araminta, and was much pleased with the Gallantry, and Courtship of these young Lovers, who all this while let no opportunity slip, to please their Princesses. But above all the rest, Spitridates was most officious: all his actions were plausible, every word he spoke had a charming spell in it: and his very silence was sometimes so eloquent and agreeable, that I confess, I looked upon this young Prince, as one most worthy to marry the Princess Araminta: so that without any thing opposing his passion, all my care, was that the Princess did not receive him too favourably: But that did little trouble me, for although she did very much esteem him, and had also a good inclination towards him, yet was she so naturally modest, and preferred her honour before all things else, that she perplexed him as much as if she had a strong aversion to him: so that when he would discourse of his love unto her, she would most sharply forbid him, and plunge him into a deeper melancholy: when I perceived the alteration in Spitridates; Madam, (said I unto her one morning when she was alone) do you remember the day when you asked me whether I knew the cause of the Prince Spitridates his melancholy? and will you not now take it ill, that if in my turn I ask you what it is which thus disquiets you at this time? Hesionida (said she unto me) If you will absolutely know it, you shall; but you would do me a greater pleasure, if you would save me the labour of ●●lating the follies of that Prince. Truly Madam, said I unto her, I do so much esteem Spitridates, that I am much troubled at his sorrows, and this is the reason that I desire to know the cause of them. Then did I urge so much that I moved her to acknowledge how Spitridates had spoken unto her concerning his passion, and how she had sharply forbid him to do any more, and that she believed he would not be so bold as to disobey her. But (said I unto her, to pump her mind, after I had commended her for what she had done, so she had done it without any scorn of that Prince.) If Spitridates, should be exactly obedient, and never any testimonies of esteem come from him, would you then thank him for it? Do you think, said she, and blushed, that I command things which I would have done? But Madam, said I unto her before you make any fresh questions, I beseech you answer a little more directly unto mine, and tell me truly, whether if the Prince Spitridates should speak unto you no more, wait upon you no more, neither unto the Temple, nor into the Walks: if he should never care for pleasing you, or rendering you a thousand services every day: if he should look upon you with cold indifferent eye, or perhaps slight you, ●what would you then think? would not all these displease you? But replied she, and laughed. I did not forbid him speaking, nor command him from those things which civility requires: Then I understand you, Madam, said 〈◊〉 unto her, and smiled, you would have Spitridates love you, and not tell you of it. No, replied she, you do not rightly interpret my words. I do expound them as I ought to do, said I ●●to her, nor is it forbidden you to suffer a Prince, who in all appearances must be your Husband to love you. But Madam, I beseech you remember, that you carry yourself so unto him, that if ever that happiness befall him, you may never repent yourself of any word, either too bitter, or too sweet unto him; and it is after this rule which I conjute you to direct yourself in your carriage towards Spitridates: for I am certain, that if you punctually observe what I say, you shall never speak any thing unto him, which may cause repentance: Thus much she did promise me, and so our conference ended. All this while, Spitridates was not the only singular Lover of the Princess: for since Artanus was as bold with his tongue, as he was timorous in combat, after he had carried himself a while in a respective manner, he did at last un●end himself unto his natural inclination, which was always insolent, if his hare-like courage had not a little restrained him: but since in this war, there was no great danger of life, he was as bold as a Lion: for upon a day when Spitridates was with the Princess, and when Artanus came in, and the Prince received a message from Sinnesis to come unto him, that they might go and hunt together: so that Artanus remaining alone with the Princess Araminta, after some common discourse, she asked him why he went not unto the Chase with the Prince hes Brother? and he answered her, that this recreation was not predominate over his passion: Though you do not go out with any love to the sport, replied she, yet you may go out of love to the Company. So I should, replied he, if you would go also: I am much obliged unto you, answered the Princess, but there is no reason you should have no more complacency towards my Brother the Prince; not that I can much blame you, for not affecting a pleasure which ought to be used only as a diversion, and not as a profession of life; for I think it most proper to preserve the health of the body by the exercise, and not to polish the minds of them that follow it in excess, and do nothing else: It is very true, replied Artanus, and I am of your mind: and I conceive it fitter for great Kings to hunt after their enemies, and to take Kingdoms: and for fair Princesses (said he with extreme boldness) to take hearts: but I would not have them do, as they use in hunting, where they take all they meet with: I wish they would take by choice, and not by chance. If so, replied the Princess, there would perhaps be many taken which are free. You may Madam, if you please, (replied he most insolently) sausfie me in many things at once concerning this subject: for you may tell me what would the Destiny be, of the Prince Spitridates, of Pharnaces, and of Artanus, if this kind of hunting were in use; he pronounced the last of these names so low that the Princess did not well understand it; yet half hearing, and seeing by the disorders in his face, that she was not mistaken, she answered him very sharply after this manner: If the destiny of those three persons whom you name depended upon me, two of them should most assuredly be happy. And what of the third? (said he.) As for the third, said she, he should doubtless have what he deserves; & that is, a good share of the aversion, and disesteem of the Princess Araminta. I am very glad then, answered he, that this kind of hunting is not in fashion: And I am very sorry, said she, that you have so ill invented it. But however Madam said he, and roughly interrupted her) you know not how to make yourself eternally adored by him, who the best of any man in the world knows your worth: He whom you speak of, repied the Princess, would do better to acknowledge the respect he owes me: and to teach him I forbid you to speak any more unto me: then did I enter into the Chamber, and Artanus went out; and I saw so many signs of anger in the Princess, that I wondered, but she did presently satisfy me, and related the impudence of Artanus unto me, with as much anger as a person of honour could have, against one that had affronted her: I cheered her up as much as I could possible, and confirmed her doubtless in her design to let Artanus know, that he knew not his du●y. But that she might not be ignorant in any of her Conquests, the unfortunate Pharnaces brought in the Princess Aristea unto her, where the conversation was as it used to be, very indifferent and pleasant; and ere they were awate, they fell into discourse concerning Lovers, Passion, Gallantry, and Declaration of love: and as the Princess Araminta was yet angry in her mind, at the passage of Artanus: For my part, said she, I cannot conceive any thing more inconsiderate, then for any man to tell her that loves him not, how he is deeply in love with her: and if any one should this way fail in their respects unto to me, it should not be an easy matter for him that committed it, to repair his fault. Then Madam, (replied Pharnaces, and sighed whether he would or no) it seems it would please you best that he should love you long before he tell you: He must not tell me at all, replied the Princess, at the least, if he will be certain, I shall not hate him. How should any know your humour, replied he? An hundred ways, said the Princess Aristea: But Pharnaces, added she is their any of your friends that desires to know it? Yes Madam, said he, and if the Princess Araminta (than he blasht, and looked upon her) had not told me what she has done, the fairest princess upon earth had been importuned: And the most faithful Lover in the world had been 〈…〉 ●ntertained. Perhaps, said the Princess, that fairone whom you speak of, is not of my humour. Pardon me, Madam, replied he, for it I should name her, you would say she were. The Princess perceiving by several passages what Pharnaces desired she should know, since he carried the business more discreetly than Artanus, she was not angry at him; but yet continued all that day in a very fertting humour.  
In the Evening, at the return from hunting, the Prince Sinnesis, who by the rigour of the Princess Aristea, was almost desperate, came to see Araminta, and conferring in private with her; Sister, said he, Will you have no pity upon me? Are you not so compassionate as to do me a good office unto the inexorable Aristea? Did I entertain any thought of her which was not innocent, I should never desire your assistance? But loving her with such pure affection as I do, and knowing that the King will consent I should marry her, I think I may without any offence unto you, conjure you to employ all your ingenuity, to make me acceptable unto her. I conceive your choice, and desires so just and reasonable, (replied the Princess) that I cannot condemn them, and if to speak in your favour unto the Princess Aristea, will give you satisfaction, I shall with all joy and willingness please you, though in my opinion, that which you call rigour in her, is only an effect of her modesty: and because perhaps she does not think, that you do really intend to marry her; but looks only upon your passion as a piece of Courtship and Gallantry. Pardon me, dear Sister, said he unto her, for this Princess does rightly understand my intentions, and her coldness does proceed from some other hidden cause which I cannot understand. I shall use all my best endeavours, replied the princess, to discover it: and will to morrow go unto her, before she be ready, that I may with more freedom talk with her. There is another way, answered he, to prosper my design, more easy, and more prevalent, then that. Then let me hear it, replied the princess: Since you cannot guests it, replied he, or at least will not, I fear you will not undertake it: Do you think, Sir, answered she, and laughed, that one can guests at thoughts? and can you suspect my willingness to serve you? Since you do assure me that my fears were causeless, said he, then dear Sister, let not your coldness unto the prince Spitridates cause the princess Aristea to be revenged upon me; but be pliant unto him, if you would have her be so unto me: The princess blushed at the discourse of Sinnesis & not knowing whether he spoke sincerely, or only to discover her thoughts: In truth, said she, you have so surprised me, that I almost know not how to answer you: for I am so little persuaded of Spitridates his sufferings, that if your misery be not greater than his, I cannot conceive there needs any such extraordinary remedy as that you propose. No, no, Sister, said he unto her, you do not think as you say, nor ought you to think so: for Spitridates loves you even to the very height of adoration: and I made him confess it unto me whether he would or no, when we were hunting together. Spitridates (replied she and was much ashamed) would not have chosen a better confident: I do acknowledge it (replied the prince Sinnesis, and could not be interrupted) for if you will really oblige me, you must treat him better than hitherto you have done. But Sir, said she, since there is so great an intimacy between you and Spitridates, there is no need that I should meddle in the business, you may do it well enough without me. Cruel woman, said he unto her, why do you say so? Do you not know that there is more powerful eloquence in one of your looks to persuade Spitridates, then in all my best Rhetoric? In short, unless you have a mind absolutely to lose me, you must entertain the love of that prince, who deserves you better than any other, and who doubtless is adorned with all those admirable qualities, which may invite your, and the King my father's choice of him: But, said he, and smiled, If I be not much mistaken in the Rules of physiognomy, I see that Spitridates, maugre all your severity and wisdom, is not much hated. And then not giving her any time to answer, he called that Princess unto him who was talking with me at the other end of the Chamber. The Princess was so much astonished that she knew not what to do, or say: Certainly Sir, said she unto him, you have lost your reason in hunting, and I do believe you will not approve to morrow of what you do to day: Mean while the Prince Spitridates obeying his call, came unto him. I have been as good as my word said Sinnesis unto him; and I have done that service for you which I desire you will do for me: Sir, replied Spitridates, what you desired from me was so small in comparison of the glorious office which you offered me, that I blush for shame. It is my part to blush for shame, said the Princess, to see unto what a strange adventure the Prince my Brother hath exposed me. Whatsoever it be, said Sinnesis unto her, and taking her by the hand, It concerns the life both of Spitridates, and Sinnesis: and I do here declare unto you, in the presence of the Gods who hear me, that if you use Spitridates ill, I shall become your utter enemy. After this without giving her any time to reply, speaking aloud that all they which waited upon him might hear; I will leave you Spitridates said he unto him, to speak the rest yourself, and went out immediately: Leaving the Princess so nonplussed, that she knew not what to resolve upon, for she knew well enough the violent passion of Sinnesis unto Aristea, and his imperious humour. But though she did very much esteem of Spitridates, yet was she angry to see that she could not avoid his discoursing of his passion to her: So in this perplexity of mind, she was along while silent, and before Spitridates durst open his mouth: Yet since he feared she would accuse him of some indiscretion, in acquainting the prince her brother with his love to her, I did at last begin the discourse.  
I do not know Madam, said he unto her, whether I shall be so unhappy, as to be suspected of rashness and imprudence; but when you shall understand how the Prince, after he was pleased to acquaint me with the honour he intended unto my sister, was also pleased to tell me, that he knew of my passion unto you, and that he would be ready to do me any good office: When you understand I say, that at the first I desired him not to meddle, and did not confess unto him my affection unto you, till he had urged me above a hundred times, than I hope you will conceive it very difficult for a man, who adores you as I do, to refuse such a prevalent assistance, having such need of it as I had: For heavens know Madam, I could never find by any of your actions, any reasonable ground to build the least hope upon. After that Spitridates had done speaking in his own justification, the Princess lifting up her eyes, which she continually held down as long as he spoke: I am glad said she unto him, that the business is as you tell me; and that I s●e this accident is grounded only upon the imagination of the Prince Sinnesis, who to induce you to do him a good office, would persuade you to love, to love me better than you do. But Spitridates, let not thi● at all engage you, and I do protest unto you, that I think nothing but what I thought before my brother spoke unto me; therefore I pray, let you and I rest upon the same terms we did, and endeavour only to persuade the fair Aristea, whom I should be infinitely joyed to see, matched according to her merit. An Madam (cried out the Prince Spitridates) do not so cruelly torrure me, nor render all the promises which the Prince Sinnesis hath made me, so in effectual. What hath he promised, replied she? He hath put me in hopes, answered he, that you will give a favourable ear unto me: If he continue until to morrow in the same mind, replied she, than I shall consider what I have to do; in the mean while, I advise you to retire yourself, with a resolution to do my brother all the good offices you can unto the fair Aristea, without any other interest or design concerning me: In saying so, she rise up, and went away, so that pitridates was constrained to leave her, without any returning any answer. As soon as this Prince was gone, she called me; but though she seemed to muse upon the matter, yet seemed she not very melancholy; and to tell you truly, I believe, that since she did esteem Spitridates very much, she was not at all angry with herself, after she had well considered it upon, that she had expressed some marks of affection unto him, as without any wrong unto her modesty she might well do, since her brother had spoken so unto her I confess also, that when the Princess had acquainted me with the passage, I was ravished with joy, to see so happy a beginning of that design, which my mother was to transact by the last will of the Queen of Pont; for as she was even dying, she commanded her to low as many seeds of friendship and love between these young Princesses, as possibly she could. Mean while, the Prince Spitridates, as soon as he was gone from her, went unto Aristeas chamber, with intent to do the like good office unto the Prince Sinnesis, which he had received from him, and thinking he had brought the best news in the world unto 〈◊〉 young and fair Princess. Sister, said he unto her, and speaking low, lest any of her women should hear, you ought to entertain me with more than ordinary ceremony, for I bring you such a Crown, as is not unworthy of you. If such a thing as that were in your disposition; (answered she, and laughed as well as he) I believe you would be so ambitious as so keep it for yourself, and not offer it unto me. Do you not know, said he unto her, and sighed, that one violent passion drives out another; and that since I am so deeply in love with the Princess Araminta, I have no other ambition but to please her. In short, Sister, said he, the Prince Sinnesis would marry you; and I have Commission to tell you as much, and to move you to entertain him, as he deserves: I am very sorry brother, replied she, that you have undertaken any such Commission; for indeed the Prince Arsamones hath absolutely forbidden me to give any hopes of it unto the Prince Sinnesis, and therefore I dare not entertain the least thoughired it: Bu● certainly, said Spitridates, he does not believe his design is real, asicisq Pardon me answered she, for I did ingeniously tell him that it was: And did he not acquaint your with his reasons, replied Spitridates? No, replied Aristea, though the Princess my mother did press him unto it very importunately, as I understand by one of her women who● heard her Then came one 〈◊〉 and said that the Prince Atsamones was coming into the chamber, and indeed so he did presently after. As soon as he entered, he caused all to withdraw, except the Prince his son, and the Princess his daughter, who were both of them a little surprised. After he had a while silently looked upon them; I know Spitridates, said he unto him, that you are yet so young, that your green experience has need of some advice; and though you were born with high and noble inclinations, yet may you be capable of some imbecilities which may be dishonourable, and perhaps destructive unto such as do not arm themselves against them: I would have you know, both you and your Sister, unto whom I have already spoken, that it is not my mind ever to have any alliance with the usurpers of my father's Kingdom; I was born unto that Throne which they unjustly enjoy; and doubtless I am able to resent many things, which your young innocent years are not capable of, especially being born infortunate: But since I believe you both to be generous, and worthy to be descended from the ancient Kings of Bythinia, your Predecessors and mine, I conjure you Spitridates, stoutly to guard your heart against the charms of the Princess Araminta, which have already a little engaged you; and I command you Aristea to keep you from the Prince Sinnesis; for it would be as dishonorahle in you to sit upon the Throne by such an unworthy way, as it would be in Spitridates to renounce it, as he would, if he should too deeply engage himself in the affection of the Princess Araminta: Those who have lost Crowns, aught to be possessed with no passions, but only desire to get them again, and to ruin those that usurp them; therefore since I cannot unworthily degenerate, I would contract no alliance with those, whom I ought, and will ruin upon the first occasion which shall present itself: Dissimulation is excusable in weak oppressed people, but yet not so far as any such alliance; and if hereafter I shall arrive to such a condition, as to pull my enemies out of that Throne which they usurp, I would not destroy my own children with them; live then with them in all appearing civility, but engage no further, unless you will be unworthy of yourselves, and my affection. I know very well, that to speak thus unto persons of your age, seems to be imprudent: but I know also, that since you are descended from so many Kings, you must needs be generous, and have souls sensible of ambition; and therefore I do not doubt, but you will honour what I say unto you, and willingly obey me. As soon as Arsamones had ended his speech unto them, he went away, not receiving any other answer from either Spitridates or Aristea, but their humble reverence: For this Prince had caused all his children to respect him so much, that they durst hardly look upon him when he was gone: Spitridates did so deeply grieve at it, that the Princess Aristea, who was no less sad than he, was moved to cheer him up: Brother, said she unto him, since you have both more wit, and more generosity than I have, I hope you will not so desperately resent this accident: and the excessive sorrow which I see in your eyes makes me take so much liberty, as to beseech you not to be too much overcome by it. He, my dear Sister, said he unto her, what an advantageous thing is your insensibility to the prince Sinnesis unto you? It is much more easy for you to endure that Arsamones shall hinder you of a Crown, than it is for me to be hindered of the princess Araminta, not but that I have ambition enough in me, but it is because love is predominate in my soul; and because it is much more easy for me tolet the usurpers of the Kingdom of Bythinia live in peace, then for me to live without the Princess whom I love. There are other Crowns in the Universe, which Fortune and my Sword may give me, yet there is but one, only one Princess Araminta in all the world: Yes, my dear sister, she is the only one in all the world I can adore; without her, all things else are nothing to me; without her, I make no difference between slavery and a Kingdom; yet for aught I can judge by the orders of the Prince Arsamanes, he intends I should nourish in my heart a design to poniard the King of Pont, the father of Araminta, to kill the Princes her brothers, and whensoever occasion presents itself, to bury her in the ruins of her house: He, no, no, I will never sit upon a Throne by such bloody conditions; I do know very well that the Grandfather of Araminta was an usurper; I know also, that the King her father possesseth the Kingdom which belongs to me; but withal I know, that since Araminta has usurped the Empire of my heart, she hath rendered the possession of the Kingdom of Bythinia legitimate unto these of her house. I pretend nothing unto it, dear sister, since I cannot come unto it but by the loss of my Princess, who doubtless would never look upon me but with horror, if I should wash my hands in the blood of her father and brothers: The Gods do know it is not out of any feeble fear, that my ambition submit unto my love; and I am so well satisfied with an inward testimony of my courage, that I do not care what men think of me. But you, my dear sister, whose soul is so sensible of this tender passion, certainly you are more ambitious than I am; Can you be contented to lose two Crowns? Do not I conjure you? Hearken unto the Prince Sinnesis, and not unto the prince Arsamones, for which way is it possible he can bring his design about? he has been five and twenty years about it, and yet can find no hope●; he has educated me as a subject, and he would now hinder you from being a Queen, though he have no power to make me a King; For where are his Allies? where are his Armies? or where is any retreat for his security? he can have no design in it, but by way of conspiracy against the persons of the Princes; but by his favour, he shall execute it without me; or to say better, he shall perish without me, since what he would attempt is an impossibility. Resolve then, my dear sister, to entertain the affection of the Prince Sinnesis, for indeed, if once you be Queen of Pont and Bythinia, the prince Arsamones would not, what ere he say, subvert that Throne upon which you sit; he has permitted you to dissemble, and me also; Let us dissemble then, said he, but let it be with him: The Gods do know, I would never do any thing contrary to that duty which I ●●we unto him, wherein my love is not interested; but when it concerns Araminta, I cannot obey him. Yet brother (said Aristea unto him) you run a great hazard in disobeying him: I shall run a greater in not disobeying, replied he: And what sister, do you intent to yield a blind obedience? I am of that Sex, answered she, which permits me not to do otherwise: Can you treat the prince Sinnesis unkindly, (said he unto her) who offers you two Crowns? he who hath spoken in my behalf unto the Princess Araminta? he who may perhaps give her unto me? he who has given you all his affections, and does infinitely adore you? I will not treat him unkindly, said she, but I will not marry him, unless my father consent unto it: Would you then have me die? answered he: Would you then have me dishonour myself? (replied she.) I would have you sit upon a Throne, and save my life, and make me happy, answered this grieved prince. The Gods do know, said the princess Aristea, that I would undertake the greatest difficulties for you; but to marry without the consent of Arsamones, is a thing which I neither aught, nor can do; for I believe, that neither the King of Pont, nor the prince Sinnesis would offer it, if they knew that Arsamones would not consent: So that, said she, since prudence tells us we must not bring things to that pass, as that the princes should know my father is against our alliance with them, since they would then easily suspect his reason; therefore all the whole business had better reflect upon me, and that I pass for a fantastical Girl, that has a simple secret accession to the prince Sinnesis. You are very prudent, Sister, replied Spitridates, and it seems your reason is at liberty: But since it is so, consider well I beseech you, into what a desperate condition you bring me, if you deny me this favour, at the least to testify unto the prince Sinnesis, that I have solicited you with all my power, and also that I have not spoken all in vain: permit me to hope awhile, and in the mean time the prince Arsamones may chance to change his design. In conclusion, Sir, Spitridates was so importunate with the princess Aristea, that she consented unto this last favour, and then he retired inconceiveably disquieted: As he had a great soul himself, so he imagined some great design that his father should have in denying a Crown unto the princess his daughter, in hopes hereafter to reconquer one for him. But for all that, love rooted all such thoughts out of his soul, and he resolved rather to be always a subject, then to lose his hope of reigning hereafter in the heart of the princess Araminta. In the mean time, the prince Aryandes, who was no lover of Spitridates; though he showed fair, ever since a Horse-race, where Spitridates won the match, and where he conceived Spitridates did not carry himself as he ought unto him; Perceiving that the prince Sinnesis did patronise him in his love to Araminta, he took upon him to patronise Pharnaces, and indeed spoke very advantageously for him; but he went another way to work then Sinnesis did, and told her, that he had no other interest in his consideration, but her own; that for his part, he could not find it fit she should ever marry Spitridates, who was of a family, which in all sound policy the Kings of Pont should keep under the hatches as much as they could; and since so, he concerved that Pharnaces was the fittest man she could cast her eyes upon. The princess thanked him most civilly for his advice, and answered him, that she was resolved to poise herself with all quality unto all, and with meddling in the business of her marriage, with one or other, she would submit that business of her life unto the conduct of the King her father. In the mean time the princess Araminta, to make good her word unto Sinnesis, went unto the princess Aristea, who carried the matter according as she promised Spitridates; so that Sinnesis finding a little more sweetness from her then ordinary, gave most hearty thanks unto the prince, and was so officious in his behalf unto the princess his Sister, that indeed he moved her to use Spitridates with much more freedom and sweetness. The prince Sinnesis also did me the honour to speak unto me, and desired me to prompt the princess his Sister unto more kindness unto that prince. Now was Spitridates in all appearance the happiest man in the world; for he was highly assisted by the brother of his princess, he had the freedom to express 〈◊〉 passion without offence unto her, and had so much delight, as to observe by divers circumstances, that he stood upon no ill terms in her heart: Yet I oftentimes wondered to find some signs of melancholy in his eyes, and to hear him sigh often: But since I heard say, that love was an odd kind of fantastical passion, I regarded it, as one of those ordinary effects which proceeds from such folly, as is in the souls of the wisest persons, and made no other account of it: But the princess was not a little busied, for Sinnesis had always something or other to say unto her, either concerning Aristea or Spitridates: Aryandes also conferred with her very often against Spitridates, and for Pharnaces: Spitridates was always speaking as much as he could for himself; and Pharnaces, though he durst not speak for himself unto her, yet was entertaining her with discourse upon indifferent things, as much as possible he could, to the end he might prevent others from speaking; only Artanus absented himself for certain days, because he durst not look upon her; but afterwards, coming in the company of the princess two or three times, and being infinitely respective unto her, she thought he had repent of his boldness, and resolved to forget his crime, which for all that was not the most pardonable which might be committed amongst fair and young persons; she suffered him then to visit her, but yet treated him very coldly. Thus being the state of things, there fell out to be some stir upon the borders of Phrygia, so that an Army must be raised, which the prince Sinnesis must command, and Spitridates must be his Lieutenant General, which did extremely anger the prince Aryandes, who was to stay with the King, because he would have had Pharnaces to be Lieutenant General. I will not insist upon relations of all the adieus which all those illustrious persons did take; I shall only tell you, that this separation contracted a strong leave of amity between Spitridates, and the princess Araminta; and that Sinnesis also departed with much satisfaction, because Aristea, out of her complacency unto her brother, did not treat him ill when he took his leave. I shall not insist neither upon any relation of this war, which lasted but six months, and they concluded by a happy peace. But give me leave to tell you, that Spitridates did so gallantly behave himself, as the fame of his valour did deaf all others, though both Sinnesis and Pharnaces did also very many miracles in that war; but indeed they cried up none but him, both in Court and Army: You may easily imagine then, that when he returned thus loaden with honour, he was well entertained by the princess. I forgot to tell you, that Artanus was not in this war, not but that he spoke of it as high as the bravest; and provided the most sumptuous equipage that could be procured: I remember nothing was so much talked on, as the magnificence of his Tents, and the richness of his Arms, and the bravery of every thing; yet when he was to depart, just at that very hour he fell sick, and went not, though all his equipage was gone before; yet none did at that time suspect any thing of the cowardly cause, for he was so discontented at it, in speaking unto those who came to bid him adieu, that he moved them to pity, not accuse him: Yet he recovered within a few days after & carried it so handsomely, that never speaking of his passion to the princess, nor doing any thing which might give her just cause of complaint, he gave some cause to think, that it was his love only unto her which kept him from the Army; and indeed his design did so well take, that every one did believe it so: Yet when these princes returned, he seemed for certain days so much ashamed, that he had much ado to show himself: All the Court made it their raillary, and talked of his magnificent equipage, which was never used; but brought back unto Heraclea, which would have drawn any other but himself into more quarrels than one or two; but he carried it so for a while, that his humour was not absolutely discovered, until he had five or six quarrels came upon him, but he fought none of them. Since this peace was very advantageous unto this State, the Court continued a long time very joyful. Never was the princess Araminta so fair, nor the princess Aristea so amiable; and by consequence, never was the prince Sinnesis, Spitridates, Pharnaces, and Artanus, more amorous. The King of Pont, who did not alter his design, took a resolution to execute it, and to make up the marriage between the prince Sinnesis, and the princess Aristea; and between the prince Spitridates, and the princess Araminta: Notwithstanding, he did believe, that considering the state of things, Arsamones might accept of these intentions with joy; yet since he was prudent, and knew the humour of that prince to be something imperious, he would therefore try his resentments of it before any further proceedings: And he was pleased to cast his eyes upon me for that employment, knowing that the princess Arbiana did me the honour to love me: He commanded me then, whilst he tooks a journey for seven or eight days, to impart the design unto her, to the end she might prepare the mind of her husband to accept of this honour, as he ought to do: You may imagine Sir, that I accepted of this Commission with much joy; and indeed the pleasure of it was so great, that my heart could not contain it: But I made it known unto the prince Sinnesis, unto the princess Araminta, and to Spitri●ates also: Yet was I much surprised, not to find so much joy in that prince as I expected; and without any interpretation of his resentment, he seemed as if he would have hindered me from speaking unto his Mother: yet since the order which I had received was urgent, I left him in Araminta's Chamber, and having a Coach ready, I went unto the Princess Arbiana, whom I had the good fortune to find alone in her Chamber. But though I was surprised at the melancholy of Spitridates, I confess I was amazed to observe it in the mind of Arbiana: since I loved her very well, and she me also: I beseeched her to explain herself a little more clearly than she had done: Though she knew that being originally a Bythinian as I was, the interests of her house were dear unto me: yet for all that she would not open herself unto me further than coldly telling me, that she would speak unto the Prince her Husband, and that she would give me an account of his answer before the King's return, who was gone unto a Town in Pont, called Cabira, leaving the Princes, and the Princess his daughter behind him. I afterwards came to know, that I was no sooner gone from Arbiana, but she went unto Arsamones, to tell him, that she desired this double alliance with him, and that he must prepare himself to return an answer before the King's return. So I shall, (said he, without any further explaining himself;) in the mean time speak to me no more about it, for I know very well what I have to do, Arbiana would have conjured him to tell her a little more plainly what she was to expect; but he entreated her to press him no urcher, and to believe that he had very advantageous thoughts in his heart for his children. As Arsamones was of a very violent humour, she was forced to submit, and to retire into her Chamber without any deeper penetration into his thoughts: as she went out of the Chamber, she met Spitridates, who after she had carried him into her own, did conjure her with so much tenderness to be favourable unto him, that this wise Princess was much moved unto compassion, and promised to use her best endeavours for his satisfaction; and also since she saw no appearance of any possibility for Arsamones to get into the Throne of his fathers, she wished with all her heart that these two marriages were consummated. In the mean time, I was four or five days without any vexation, but at the incertainty of Arsamones his answer: not that I feared it would be absolutely ill, but the melancholy of Spitridates, and the pensiveness of Arbiana, joined unto some sadness which I saw in the eyes of Aristea, made me fear there was something in the wind which I could not understand. As for Spitridates, he was unconceivably troubled, and notwithstanding all his end avours to hide it, the Princess did perceive it, yet he was so ingenious as to make her think, that the hopes of any great good carries with it always some kind of unquiet melancholy. The Prince Sinnesis on the contrary, was in high content: for although he saw very well that the Princess Aristea was not very pleasant, yet he took a real sadness for a piece of modesty, and suited his discourse accordingly. As for the Prince Argandes, Pharnaces, and Artanus, since they knew not the secrets of things, each of them studied how to promote their particular designs, and never thought upon any ones else. The fifth day after the King's departure, being come, three or four only remaining before his return: I remember that the Princess Aristea had a long conference with the Princess Araminta, and not knowing well any reason why they redoubled their amity and affection one to another; the Princess Araminta gave a little picture which she had unto Aristea, the same which she showed you in Bythinia, to discover whether you were Spitridates or no, as afterwards she sent word unto the Princess: And in exchange Aristea gave a jewel unto Araminta, which she wears at this day, and is the prettiest thing in the world.  
After that Aristea had left the Princess, Spitridates came to see her: & since he found her full of those pleasing conceits, which those two fair ones had infused one into another; she treated him better than ever she did in all her life before: for she was then so full of obliging sincerity, as that he plainly discovered in her heart, that real esteem which she had of his virtue; and since this Prince had certainly as much sprightly wit, as ever any had; and never any knew better how to love then he; so he expressed himself unto her so feelingly, so respectively, and passionately, that he did sufficiently win upon the soul of the Princess Araminta. This conference was long, though it seemed short, by reason it was pleasing, and it was very late when Spitridates went from the Princess: He went afterwards to sup with the Prince Sinnesis, and he came not unto his own Chamber until almost midnight. He was no sooner in his Chamber, but one came to tell him that the Prince Arsamones sent for him. In obedience unto his Commands, he went unto his Chamber, and in the way he observed the officers of the House extraordinary busy: yet his imagination was so taken up with the princess Araminta, that he less regarded it. When he was entered into the Chamber of Arsamones, he found there the princess Arbiana, the young prince Euriclides his Brother, and the princess Aristea: but the sight did much augment his fears, when he found melancholy in the faces of those two princesses. When he was come unto his father, Spitridates, said Arsamones unto him, we should be weary of our fetters, and the time is now come, when we will shake them off; therefore take the princess your Mother by the hand, and follow me without any contradiction or murmur: for it concerns the Grandeur of my house, my own glory, and yours, and more than that, my life: Since I do owe mine unto you, replied Spitridates most sadly, I have no will to disobey you: But, Sir, dare I ask what your design is? You shall know it presently, replied Arsamones roughly: mean while do as I bid you without resistance, since I am in power to make myself obeyed: Spitridates hearing his father speak in this manner, and seeing that indeed he might be compelled unto it, he gave his hand unto the wise Arbiana, who in a low voice conjured him to make no stir, and protested unto him that she was ignorant of the design. Then after orders was given for all things, this prince, followed by his children, and such as he had made choice of to follow him, went down a pair of back stairs into the Garden, and out of the Garden, to one of the gates of the Town, which looked towards the Sea, and whose porter was bribed: there he found a Shallop, into which he caused all of them to enter, and himself the last; after he had thrust in Spitridates with his own hands, who at that instant stayed at the side, as if he would consider whether he should enter or no; although he held the princess his Mother by the hand: all was no sooner in, but Arsamones commanded to row away in all haste, until they came unto the Cape of an Island called Acherusiades: Since he had paid the watermens very liberally, they made away so fast, that in less than an hour he arrived at the Creek, where they say Hercules landed, when he fought with that terrible Monster; the defeat of which got him so great a reputation in that Country: You may very well judge Sir, in what a pitiful condition Spitridates was then in, who though he did not know his father's design, yet was he sure it was contrary to his love: After arrival at the place before named, out of the Shallop they went, and entered into a Bythinian ship, which waited there, and was guarded by three others, which the Calcedonians had sent unto Arsamones. None of the watermen of the Shallop daring to return unto Heraclia, left it upon the River unto the wind and waves, and followed this prince who promised to take care of their fortunes: No sooner was the ambitious Arsamones in the ship, after he had given order to make towards Bythinia, he and Euriclides entered into the Cabin, where the princess Arbiana was with Aristea, and Spitridates. When he was entered, Well, (said he unto them, with an aspect which spoke both fury and joy) though I am not yet a King, yet am I no longer a Slave: and he that would conquer a Crown, must first break off those chains which hinders him. Come Spitridates (said he unto him) let us go unto a Throne; and to make the way more pleasant and easy unto you, I will tell you, that I will not oppose your marriage with the princess Araminta: but on the contrary, I intent to put you presently in the head of an Army, to the end you may go and conquer her, and not take her from the hands of my most deadly enemies: when you are the Son of a King, and in expectance to be King yourself, you will be more worthy of her virtue and beauty than you are, and doubtless you would extremely injure her to have her marry the son of a Slave, and a Slave himself. I have been twenty years in contriving this design, which I now begin to execute: the City of Calcedonia is for me, as well as that of Chrisopolis, and I hope within a few days the King of Pont will be brought unto such terms, as to send his Ambassadors unto my Court to demand Aristea, for the prince his Son: But whatsoever falls, I render thanks unto the Gods, that I shall diefree, though I cannot live a King. Spitridates, as much taken up as he was with his passion, could not choose but see something that was great and Heroic in his father's design: But how ambitious soever his soul was, love was ever the Master of it, and he could not conceive that any hopes of being a King could comfort him for the loss of his Princess: also he answered Arsamones after such a manner as was not pleasing unto him; so that he was constrained, to be silent, and as much as he could shut up all his melancholy in his soul: You may well imagine Sir, what his thoughts were, during this voyage, they were such and so sad, that when he related them afterwards unto me, he almost wept. The thought not only to quit his Princess, but to ruin her, to declare war against her, and to appear her enemy after he was upon the point of marrying her, was a thing so horrid, as that he thought divers times to throw himself into the Sea: and if the Princess Aristea had not been, he had desperately done it: Ambition was too feeble to overcome the love that was rooted in his soul. No, no, (said he in himself) thou glittering and imperious passion, thou shalt never chase my Princess out of my heart; she shall be Sovereign, and reign there, in spite of thee, and thy plotting power: my desires of a Throne come infinitely short of my desires to enjoy her.  
But alas, what will this divine princess think of me? can she ever believe that I knew of the design of Arsamones? No, no, flatter not myself, for notwithstanding all the testimonies of my love that ever I gave her, she will believe that I prefer the Crown of Bythinia before her: The prince Sinnesis, in lieu of being my assistant towards her, will become my mortal enemy; he will accuse me for carrying away Aristea, and will speak as much against me now, as he spoke for me before: I fear Araminta, the generous Araminta, will hate me now, as much as she loved me before; and indeed she has reason: For why, will she say to herself, did he discover his love unto me, when he was transacting as my declared enemy? But yet for all this, my dearest princess, I am only infortunate, not criminal: Ambition was stirring in my heart, I must confess, but love only did absolutely enjoy it: So not knowing what he either aught, would, or could do, the miserable Spitridates abandoned himself wholly unto sorrow, and every minute of his sad life sighed out a remembrance of his dear princess. In the mean time Sir, give me leave to tell you, how great was our wonder in the morning, when the departure of Arsamones was known; indeed it was so great, that I cannot remember, but tremble. The princess was yet asleep, when the prince Sinnesis came to her chamber, where contrary to his custom, he waked her; which no sooner done, Sister, (said he unto her) Arsamones has carried away Aristea from me, and Spitridates from you; he is gone in the night with all his household, and embarked secretly, not being discovered by any, but by this inscription, which is posted up at every corner in the Town, as this which I have here brought you; in saying so, he gave her the note, which contained these words: 
The Prince Arsamones tells the King of Pont, that to marry the Prince his son, and the Princess his daughter, unto the children of a Slave, would be to make an alliance unworthy of himself; therefore to transact both justly and generously, he must restore the Kingdom of By thinia unto him, before he treat of any alliance, otherwise he declares war against him, as an usurper of his Dominion, and as his mortal enemy.   
You may well imagine Sir, how this surprised the princess; yet being wise, she vented her resentments of it before the Prince her brother, but inquired of him, with much reservedness, all that he knew concerning the business; yet he, who was of a violent temper, uttered all that either love, choler, fury, and despair could prompt him unto; sometimes his rage roved at Arsamones; then presently after, he suspected Spitridates, as accessary to the design, and confounding the innocent and culpable together; or to say better, not being able to discern them, he railed against Arsamones, against Spitridates, against Arbiana, against Euriclides, and against Aristea also. During all this turbulent passage, the Princess spoke not a word; she had a desire to ask him, whether he had sent unto the King, to advertise him of the accident, whether he had caused Arsamones to be pursued, and what order he had taken in the business; but not knowing what she herself should advise them unto, she suffered her sorrows silently, without complaint; yet was her curiosity satisfied presently after, without any further enquiry; for the prince himself told her, that he had sent unto the King, and commanded two ships to follow Arsamones, in which Pharnaces was embarked. This news made the princess blush, because she knew, that if they were overtaken, there would be a combat, since Pharnaces was there; yet dissembling the matter as well as she could, she told the prince Sinnesis, that according to her apprehension, it was Arsamones only who had any hand in the design. Afterwards this prince being so passionately disordered, that he neither knew, why he should leave the princess, nor whether he should go, but he went out of her Chamber, and left her at liberty to lament. Well Hesionida (said she unto me, when I came to her bedside) what do you think of Spitridates? or what ought I to think of him? Madam, said I unto her, I have so strong an inclination to interpret all things unto the advantage of that prince, that I am apt to believe he did all he could to prevent this design: If so, said the Princess sighing, he is very unfortunate; but if not, I am sure he is very culpable; for if he had any secret design to transact with his father in his just pretensions unto Bythinia, why did he testify any particular affection unto me? or why should he engage my heart to esteem him above all the world? If he had any such privy design, said I unto her, he pretended unto you, the more to delude the Court, and hide his design the better. But Madam, I cannot believe it; and although the melancholy which of late I observed in his mind, did much amaze me, yet I am fully persuaded, that he really loves you: If so, replied she, then why does he go away? How can he ever hope I should continue my affection to him, if he intent to make war against my father? Believe me Hesionida (added she, tears falling from her fair eyes whether she would or no) though I would gladly find out some good ground to justify Spitridates, yet I cannot: Perhaps he thought it no unworthy act, to delude the daughter of that Prince, who kept a Kingdom from him, and to get into a Throne again, it was excusable, if he used a hundred thousand false oaths, and as many lying protestations. But no, Spiridates, said she, you deceive yourself, Heroic virtue is more difficult to practise than you imagine; not is it permitted to commit crimes, though it be to gain Crowns by it. Be not so hasty Madam (said I unto her) to condemn too rashly, who ever seemed to be virtuous. Ah Hesionida (said she unto me) did you but know all he said unto me the last night, you would tremble, that he thus abandons me to day, and that he should declare war against my father; for he must needs know, that the Kingdom of Bythinia will never be restored him without a war; and he must needs imagine, that if he fight against the King of Pont, unto whom I owe my life, I shall myself fight, and drive him out of my heart. But yet since she had not sufficient ground either to condemn him, or justify him, she knew not how to regulate her own desires; she could well have wished that Pharnaces might meet with him, and bring him back unto Heraclea; yet not knowing how he should then be treated, she did sometimes make prayers for his flight, and desired that he might either not be taken, or else that he might vanquish Pharnaces: for truly, would she say unto me, whether Spitridates be innocent or culpable, I wish with all my heart, he may not fall again into the hands of the King my father. Then did she entreat me to inquire whether Spitridates had carried all his Train with him, and I found, that every one of his servants stayed behind, and not one of them went with him, and that the Prince Sinnesis, and the Prince Aryandes, had caused them all to be arrested, who all of them did say, that they were altogether ignorant in the design of Arsamones; and also did affirm, that my Master was ignorant of it as well as they, because he sent for some of them to get him to bed, when Arsamones sent for him: Though this was a strong conjecture to justify him in the opinion of the princess, yet the two Princes Sinnesis and Aryandes were so prejudicated in their imaginations, that they absolutely assured her, that Spitridates did know of the design; so that though she did not believe them, yet her soul stood upon incertainties, betwixt what they told her, and what she wished to be true. In the mean while, the King returned unto Heraclea, but so incensed against Arsamones, as never man was more: And when he considered, that this Prince transacted thus, at such a time when he would have set his daughters upon the Throne, and have given his own daughter unto his son; he could not then find out any excuse for him, and never considered that he detained his Kingdom from him, but was as much incensed against him, as if he were a rebellious subject. Then did Pharnaces return without meeting with him, bringing this intelligence with him, from some Merchant's ships which he met withal: That he was gone unto Bythinia, where he was in danger of a shipwreck, as he was entering into the Port; but having escaped this danger, he was received as King by the Inhabitants of Chalcidonia, and also by them of Chrisopolis, who had seized upon all the Garrisons the King of Pont had there. I confess Sir, that upon this accident, the love of my Country did much work upon my heart, and my hopes once again to see a King of Bythinia, did much joy me; for since this was towards the end of Autumn, I thought that during winter, things might perhaps be well composed, and that the Princess Araminta might marry Spitridates, and be one day Queen of that Country from whence I had my original: So that joining the interest of my Native Country, unto the interest of my Mistress, I did endeavour all I could, to persuade her unto some hopes of it; but she always told me, that certainly the King her father would never consent to part with a Kingdom, unless force did compel him unto it: And indeed, though the season of year was not fit to begin a war, yet Commissions were granted to raise new Regiments, to be added unto those which remained of the Phrygian war. During this time, Pharnaces and Artanus were so joyed at the absence of Spitridates, and were so assiduous about the Princess, that she was extremely importuned, principally by Artanus, who divers times began again to be insolent: As for Pharnaces, he was so discreet and wise, that he gave her no cause of offence, or if he did, it was at such a time, when the Princess thought solitude the greatest consolation: Whensoever she walked, it was as privately as possible; and the better to hide the malady of her mind, she oftentimes feigned to be sick, and would see no body. Upon a day, when none did see her, there came such news from Bythinia, as did much surprise all the Court, which was, that Arsamones had imprisoned Spitridates, and kept him very close in a Chalcedonian Castle: Such news as this, upon any other adventure, would have extremely grieved the Princess, but now it did most sensibly joy her, because she looked upon the prison of Spitridates, as a convincing testimony of his innocency, which did completely justify him in her opinion. Moreover, since she did not fear, that Arsamones would ever attempt any thing against his life, because he was his son, she fancied great consolation in thinking, that as long as the war lasted, he could not fight, either against the King her father, or against her brothers; so that if peace should hereafter be concluded, she could not blame him for any thing: Sometimes she would grieve for the sorrows which he endured: But for all that, as things stood, she did not desire he should be at liberty. Did I not ever say, Madam (said I unto her) that Spitridates was never culpable? Yes Hesionida, replied she, and I am very sorry I should suspect him of any such injustice. Mean while, the Princess would go in the morning unto the Temple that was so famous in Heraclea, (and which was dedicated unto the Goddess Adrastea, or otherwise called, Fatal Destiny) with intentions to invoke the Goddess to be propitious unto Spitridates, and to compose all differences between the King her father, and Arsamones. But here Sir you may admire at the power of Fortune, for we met (in this Temple of fatality) with a stranger newly arrived at Heraclea, and who seeing the Princess go into the Temple, went in also: I heard him ask, which of all these Ladies that waited upon the Princess, was called Hesionida, and I told him, I was she; If so, replied he, do me the honour that I may speak a word in private with you. I conjure you (said he, and spoke low) by the name of Spitridates. When I heard a name so dear unto me, though very dangerous to be named, as things stood in Heraclea, I bade him retire, and go out of the Temple, and stay at the gate, until I sent for him by a Slave, which I showed unto him, that he might know him: Then going out of the Temple, I called this slave unto me, whom I knew to be witty and faithful, and showed him that stranger, appointing him to bring him through the Palace garden, by a backdoor, and to conduct him into my chamber by a back stair, which was over against it. I would not acquaint the Princess with any thing, until I knew exactly what the man had to say unto me; so that after I had waited upon her unto her chamber, I went in all haste unto my own, where I presently saw him, whom I expected, coming in. I commanded the slave to stay in the outer chamber, that he might carry him back, whom he brought, after I had conferred with him; and carrying him into my Closet, I beseech you, said I unto him, what have you to say unto me concerning Spitridates? Madam, said he unto me, I have orders to conjure you to help me unto the speech of the Princess Araminta; and to assure you for your particular, that you are the Lady whom of all the world he most honours, and whom he stands in most need of. After I had received this compliment from Spitridates, and observed by the fashion of this stranger, that he was one of a good wit, and some quality, I desired him to have a little patience, whilst I acquainted the Princess, and obtained audience for him: She was so surprised, that it was long before she could resolve what to do: But since none was with her, I importuned her much, that notwithstanding her repugnancy to see him, she consented. She sent me first to know, whether he had any Letters; and when he answered, that he had, she desired they might be given unto me, but he would not by any means, so that she was forced to go unto him, saying, as she passed through the Chamber where her women were, that she must go to speak with a man, who desired her favour to the King, about some important business: But afterwards she commanded to bring the man into her Closet, where I remained with her: Madam (said he unto her, after a low reverence) I beseech your pardon, that I did not deliver the Letter unto Hesionida, when she did from you desire it: For since the Prince Spitridates did not know, whether you would do him so much honour, as to return an answer, he expressly commanded me to be present when you read it, if it were possible, hoping thereby Madam, to understand, at the least, some part of your thoughts. The Princess was so surprised, that she knew not well how to answer him; but taking the Letter, Since my thoughts are always such as they ought to be, replied she, I care not much if my countenance discover them, and therefore without any difficulty I shall satisfy Spitridates so far, as to read his Letter before you: In saying so, she broke open the Seal, and read these words:  
SPITRIDATES unto the Princess ARAMINTA.  
I Am so infortunate, that how innocent soever I am, I cannot choose but fear you suspect me to be fuller of ambition than love: and farther, that you have condemned me, before you understand me. He who shall present my Letter unto you, hath orders to relate the pure truth; to the end, that knowing it, you may do me no injustice: The prison wherein I am shall be most sweet, if it will but justify me in your opinion, but most intolerable, if you accuse me, since it will not let me tell you myself, that I would quit all the Crowns in the Universe for the glory of one favourable look from you. Do not suspect, I beseech you, that I have any desire▪ to conquer them, upon conditions of losing you; but on the contrary, believe, that I shall ever prefer the glorious quality of your slave, before the being King of all Asia.  
SPITRIDATES.  
After the Princess had read this Letter, and sighed whether she would or no, she desired him who brought it to acquit himself of his Commission: so that he related all that I have told you; that is to say, in what manner Arsamones had sent for Spitridates; how he spoke unto him in his Chamber; how he embarked, and what he said, when he was in the Ship which waited for him: then he told her, that their Sea voyage was very prosperous until they came to Chalcedonia: but in arriving there, the Pilot mistaking his aim, the Ship was dashed by the violence of the waves against the point of a Rock, close by the mouth of the Port: that the Ship split, and Spitridates being at the Poop, fell into the Sea, just at the same time when another of the Ships of Arsamones was split a little lower: Moreover he told her, how all the waterside being full of people, there was some Merchants of Persipolis, who were extreme compassionate at this accident, and desired to save Spitridates: That there was two, who threw themselves into the Sea in hopes to assist him, but both of them were drowned: and that the violence of the waves had wafted him far off: so that none could discover where he was: He further related, that when Spitridates first fell, he recollected his spirits, and because he could swim very well, he made many attempts to land, but the waves dashed so much against the Rocks in that place, as it was impossible for him to land, so that he was carried by those billows a long way off, which were so high, that those Merchants which did interest themselves in his loss, did lose the sight of him, and thought him shipwrackt. Yet the waves being not so rough where Spitridates was, with much ado he landed in a place where an old Fisherman was drying his Nets upon the banks, about four or five furlongs from Chalcedonia: That since he was exceeding weary, he did lie himself down upon the banks to rest himself: That this old fisherman, pitying to see a man so lovely and handsome, and well habited, in so lamentable a condition, offered to carry him unto a little house close by: That Spitridates accepted of his offer, and that not knowing any reason why, he entreated that charitable fisherman to tell it unto none that he was with him: But Sir, when this messenger from Spitridates related unto the Princess the unquiet and restless mind of Spitridates in that place, I do confess that he made me extremely pity him: and indeed, it may be easily imagined, that seeing himself now master of himself, and that he could either return unto Heraclea, or else go unto Chalcedonia, that his soul was in a pitiful and wavering condition. If I return unto Heraclea (said he) then doubtless I shall satisfy my love, and my Princess, but then I shall dishonour myself in the eyes of all Asia; for than I shall fight against my own father, and for him who retains that Kingdom from him which I must enjoy; yet if I go unto Chalcedonia, can I ever have a heart to take up Arms against the father, and brothers of my Princess Araminta? and shall I leave that most illustrious Lady in an opinion that I have deceived her? that I have betrayed her? and that I expressed affection unto her only as a Cloak to cover my design of getting into the Throne of Bythinia? Ha, no no, I can never consent unto it. But then, said he, what shall I do? I know not, answered be to himself: But I think, Death is the only course I can take, to put me into such a condition as that I shall do nothing, either against my honour, or against my love, or against mine own inclination: yet I must resolve upon one way, I must either go unto Heraclea, or Chalcedonia: If to the first, than I lose my honour, but satisfy my love: if to the last, than I shall satisfy my ambition, but ruin myself in the opinion of my Princess, which I prefer before all things, even my very life.  
In conclusion, this Messenger told us, that after a most violent agitation of mind, love was the most predominate in his heart; yet desiring to take a middle way between these two extremes, and considering that as the season of the year was the War could not begin this three months; he therefore designed to disguise himself, and return secretly unto Heraclea, without seeing either the King, or Princes, but to endeavour by my means to see the Princess, and to justify himself unto her: to promise her never to fight in person against the King, her Father, and to beg leave from her to go and defend his own: That not doubting but the Princess would consent unto his desires, and knowing her to be just and generous, he resolved to return afterwards unto Chalcedonia, to the end he might endeavour a pacification, and so to satisfy, if it were possible, both his honour, and his love. That to execute this his design, he got this old fisher to go unto the Town, and with some money which he had about him to buy such necessaries as might make an handsome disguise for his intended voyage; and to inquire whether any accident happened unto the King: That this man having bought such things as he had need of, he told him, that the King and Queen of Bythinia, the Prince Eariclides, and the Princess, there had escaped from shipwreck, but were extremely grieved out of fears that their eldest Son was perished: and that all the Seaside was full of men, whom the King had sent to seek the Prince living or dead: that they were enquiring news of him within an hundred paces of that place, and that he answered, he knew o● none: afterwards Spitridates fearing to be found out, presently disguised himself, giving unto, the fisherman a very rich jewel which he had about him: and as soon as it was night, he got upon a Horse, which the fisher furnished him withal: so after he had commanded that his clothes should beSpan●id, and showed unto none, at the least not until a long while after his departure, he took his journey: I had forgot ●o tell you, that he left a little Note with the fisher, with orders to go within eight days after unto some Officer of Arsamones house, and give him that Note; saying, that he found it by chance: the words of the Note were these: 
Assure the King my Father, that Spitridates is not dead, and since he is not capable of doing any thing against his honour, he will return unto him, before he shall have any need of his courage.   
After Spitridates was gone, the poor fisherman, consulting with his wise concerning their happy encounter, and searching out for a fi● place to hide those rich clothes which Spitridates left, by ill fortune, twelve or fifteen of those men which Arsamones had sent out to search about the Seaside, being hungry and cold, came into this house, and entered so suddenly, that those good people was forced to throw the Prince's clothes hastily under their Nets: one of these men saw something shine, and moved him to so much curiosity as to look what it was: but he no sooner saw those clothes by the help of a candle, but he knew them, for he was a servant unto Arsamones: then supposing that this fisherman had perhaps found him half dead upon the Sea shore, and had killed him our-right for his clo●hes, they began to threaten him, to confess the truth, and to tell them what he had done with the corpse of Spitridates: This poor honest fisherman seeing himself unjustly accused, and fear forcing it out, told them the whole passage, showing them the Note which Spitridates had left with him. So that now making no question but that he was alive, and easily imagining that he was gone towards Heraclea; they sent one in all haste to inform Arsamones of their adventure, and to carry the Note which Spitridates had left: since they conceived that they should do a great piece of service in bringing his S●n back unto him; they made all the haste they could unto a bridge, where of necessity he must pass: and that which did the more facilitate their design in finding, was, that they forced this fisher to d●●c●ibe the clothes and horse which Spitridates had. When they overtook him, they first addressed themselves very respectively, but yet so, as they resolved not to let him escape; for they compassed him round about. This Prince who was but ill mounted, saw it was impossible for him to avoid being taken, used no resistance, but prayers and promises: Afterwards, seeing that way would not work with them, because they expected high rewards from Arsamones; he began to threaten them, and began indeed to force them: yet finding all his attempts in vain against so many, he yielded, and was carried unto Chalcedonia, where Arsamones looked upon him with as many signs of an incensed father, as a violent Prince could possibly express: he told him, that there was no reason he should pretend unto the Crown of Bythinia, because he was unworthy of it. But to show him, that he would keep it without him, he would put him into such a place, as should cool him, since he could not extinguish that dishonourable passion which was so hot in his soul, and so opposite unto his honour. Spitridates would have excused the matter, but since he could not force his tongue to tell so loud a lie unto the King, as that he would not love Araminta any longer, he imprisoned him in one of the Towers in the Castle, not permitting any to visit him, but the Princess Aristea, and that was not obtained without much difficulty, and only twice in a week; Afterwards this Messenger from Spitridates told the Princess, that he having the honour to wait upon the Princess Aristea, in three or four of her visits, and they having a good confidence in him, made choice of him, to come hither, and render an account unto her of that Prince's life, since his departure from Heraclea: assuring her, that the Princess Aristea continued so firm in her affection towards her, that nothing can change it. The Princess Araminta did very attentively hearken unto this relation; and since she was fully satisfied and reconciled unto the Prince Spitridates, she seemed to be most sensibly moved at those miseries which he endured in consideration of her. I believe she would not have writ back unto him, unless I had extremely pressed her unto it: and in conclusion, consented unto my desires: writing this Letter in the presence of him who was to carry it.  
The Princess ARAMINTA, unto SPITRIDATES.  
I Wish you could be innocent, and happy both: yet since the malignity of my Fate will have it so, that you must not be justified in my opinion without your sufferings; I do confess with a blush, that I had rather you were unfortunate, and not culpable, then culpable, and not unfortunate: But yet I resent your Prison as I ought to do, and I do not know whether my sorrows can keep within those just limits which reason should prescribe them. Since I require nothing from you which shall be against your honour: do not expect any thing from me contrary to mine. If the Destinies have ordained that we must be always unfortunate, yet let us make all the world confess that we deserve to be more happy.  
ARAMINTA.  
After the Princess had showed me that Letter, she sealed it, and gave it unto him that was to carry it: she writ another also unto the Princess Aristea, and after much civility unto this faithful Agent of Spitridates, she dismissed him: and the slave which brought him, conducted him out of the Town where he should lodge: you may imagine what conference the Princess and I had upon this adventure, and how often we read this Letter of Spitridates: His prison did not strike only on the heart of the Princess Araminta, but in the heart of the Prince Sinnesis also: who now did not any longer think him accessary to the design of Arsamones, neither did he suspect that the Princess Aristea had deceived him: so that love reassuming the same seat in his soul as formerly, he changed his manner of negotiating. He often came to his Sister the princess; and since it was important unto her, that the prince Sinnesis, should always love Spitridates, she therefore confirmed him in that opinion: So that his passion more strongly reviving, he left off exasperating the mind of the King his Father, as before he did, but would divers times appease it, yet the King of Pont easily suspecting the cause, was extraordinarily more angry at him: Some certain days after, the King of Pont had intelligence, that Ciaxares (who as you know, was then only King of Cappadocia, and Galatia) would assist Arsamones under hand; so that seeing the business more dangerous than he at first foresaw; he desired to compose the business betimes. He then sent unto Ciaxares to demand aid, seeming as if he were ignorant of his siding with Arsamones secretly; He who was sent unto him, negotiated the matter so handsomely, that he took Ciaxares off from declaring openly for Arsamones, but yet not being willing neither to declare for the King of Pont, he proposed to be a Mediator between the two princes, which did extremely grieve Arsamones, who was hereby disabled from sustaining a War: for since the prince of Paphlagonia and the prince of the Cadusians, had not treated with him but upon such conditions as the King of Cappadocia should declare, they also drew back from the Enterprise. Moreover the Inhabitants of Chalcedonia, and them of Chrisopolis, had been so much impoverished under the Dominion of the Kings of Pont, that they were not able to sustain the Charges of the War: so that Arsamones seeing upon what a weak foundation his design did stand, resolved to entertain some propositions of peace: But since he would not trust unto the word of an enemy, because the King his Father before him, had been thereby deceived: he declared unto him whom Ciaxares sent, unless the King of Pont would give Hostages as he himself offered to give. Ciaxares knowing that the King of Pont had no greater a mind to trust Arsamones, than Arsamones had to trust the King of Pont, proposed that both parties should give Hostages, which should remain with him, and it was accepted on by both parties: so that the King of Pont sent the prince Ariandes unto the Court of Ciaxares, and Arsamones sent the prince Euriclides. This Treaty continued six entire months: at the end of which a peace was concluded: and the Sentence was, That Arsamones should not assume the Title of King; that he should render up Chalcedonia unto the King of Pont: That he should enjoy the Town of Chrisopolis, and all the Country about it, holding it as a Vassal unto that prince: and that he should not be obliged either to dwell, or go unto Heraclea, nor send the princes his children thither. Before this Treaty, the prince Sinnesis endeavoured all possible ways to move his Father to conclude the marriage which he designed, but he would never hearken unto it, which did so extremely trouble the prince Sinnesis, and grieved him so much that he was hardly knowable.  
All this while was Spitridates in prison, and that much more close than before; for since the return of him, who brought the Princess Araminta's Letter, whom Arsamones suspected, the Princess Aristea was not allowed to see him. Pharnaces, whose patron was not now at Heraclea, did not so often speak unto the Princess; nor could Artanus with all his insolence and wit, find many occasions of conference with her. Pharnaces, though seeing that Artanus had more address unto her than he had, was very angry at his misfortune, though Artanus was no very terrible Rival unto him, yet he did divers times put affronts upon him: At the first this coward carried it so cunningly, as if he wanted no courage; yet these last injuries of Pharnaces, did much against his mind (the Gods do know) constrain him to draw his sword; but he did as much dishonour himself in fight, as if he had not fought at all, and the aversion which the Princess had towards him, was so justly grounded, that none wondered she should treat him with so much coldness. Mean while, the news of the conclusion of peace being come unto Heraclea, and the Prine Sinnesis knowing that he must not marry the Princess Aristea, was so extremely grieved at it, that he fell into a Fever, which upon the fourth day was at the height. The King his father hearing how very ill he was, and not being ignorant of the cause, such an excessive sorrow, mixed with anger seized upon him, that he died suddenly: Seven days after, the Prince Sinnesis quitted his Crown and his life, desiring the Princess his Sister, always to love Spitridates, and protect Aristea. You may easily imagine in what a deplorable condition Araminta was, who without all doubt did infinitely honour her father, and loved her brother, the Prince Sinnesis, who though he was by nature somewhat violent, yet was he very amiable: Besides, he loved her very well, and had a great affection unto Spitridates; so that in losing him, she lost a brother, a friend, and a protector of her lover: She strangely resented this loss, and was so full of sorrow, that for three days together she could not eat: Pharnaces did not grieve so much, for the Prince Aryandes ever loving him so well, and being now King, he hoped that he would more easily move Araminta to be favourable unto him: As for Artanus, since he lost nothing but what Pharnaces found, this sad accident made no great alteration in his mind. I was not in such a condition as to comfort the Princess, for my mother died at the same time, who out of her love to her own Country, and her earnest desire, that the intentions of the Queen her Mistress should be accomplished, commanded me to be absolutely serviceable as much as I could unto all the house of Arsamones, and especially unto Spitridates, as that I was more engaged unto it, than before, and I could the more easily obey her in it, because they appointed no other Governor unto the Princess. Mean while, the new King of Pont, who now reigns, or to say better, who must never reign, was upon his way in returning unto Heraclea, (where they had rendered all due honours unto the two dead Princes) and it was in his journey, that he heard of the death of the King his father, and of the Prince Sinnesis his brother: Then did we understand, that the treaty of peace was performed, that Arsamones was gone out of Chalcedonia, and going to Chrisopolis, and by consequence Spitridates changed his prison. Fifteen or twenty days did thus pass over, whilst the Inhabitants of Heraclea prepared all possible magnificence to receive their new King: But orders came from him, which did forbid all ceremony, having no desire to mix so much sorrow with the joy. The Princess being extremely melancholy, and doing nothing but pray unto the Gods, did lament and mourn in secret as oft as she could. I moved her one evening against her mind, to walk in the garden of the Palace, and so take the Air, for I perceived so great an alteration in her complexion, as I feared she would fall sick: When we were in the garden, she made choice of a dark and narrow walk, which being railed in on both sides, amongst many great trees which covered it, and made it the most melancholy, and therefore the most agreeable walk in the world; for there was two fountains at the two ends, & one in the midst, which murmured so much, as did incite a soul unto musing: The Princess making choice of this gloomy place to walk in, would have no company with her but me, of whom she had no such fears as young persons commonly use to have of those which oversee their actions, for my years were not so many above hers, as to cause any aversion in her towards me, and I gave advice always, rather with respect and submission, then with any domineering pride, so that we lived together in much sincerity, and much obliging confidence. After we had repeated many misfortunes, and bestowed many a tear upon the memory of Sinnesis, she assumed some thoughts upon the unfortunate Spitridates. Is not that Prince unfortunate, said she unto me, to lose a Kingdom, in losing that person, for whose sake he was resolved to have lost it? Certainly the King my brother, though that Arsamones should permit him, yet would never consent unto his good fortune, as well because he loves him not, as because he loves Pharnaces; so that I see myself exposed unto very great persecution: Yet, said she, did but Spitridates know the justice that I render unto his merit, and how exactly I do obey the Prince Sinnesis, my brother, I should have some consolation, in that it would be a consolation unto him: But alas, it is not the pleasure of my fate I should have so much happiness, and I have nothing to do, but to prepare myself for all imaginable misery. Madam, said I unto her, never excessively grieve at misfortunes which are to come, because perhaps they may never come; and can you be obliged to follow the will of the King your brother, rather than the will of the late King your father? If I were only his Sister, replied she, I believe I should not; but since I am his Subject, as well as Sister, I think I am obliged to obey him, as I was the late King my father. After much such like discourse as this, observing that night drew on, (for it being the Spring time, the days were not very long) I persuaded her to retire: yet since the Moon shined, she followed not my counsel, but would sit down at one end of the walk, near the Fountain, within a quarter of an hour after, I saw a man coming towards us, whom I supposed to be some of the Princess' servants coming to tell her something, but I was much surprised, when this man, whom I could not know in that dark place, came nearer us. Madam (said he unto the Princess, bowing unto her, with much reverence) will you be pleased to suffer the unfortunate Spitridates to come and mingle his tears with yours, and help to lament your misfortunes, by grieving for his own? You may imagine Sir, how much the Princess and I were surprised, when we heard a voice which we could not but know, it was so great, that the Princess cried out so loud, that some of her women came into the walk, thinking she had called; but I stepping readily towards them, said, that she did not call them, and that this was a man who had a suit unto the new King, and came to beg the favour of the Princess unto him. After this, coming near the Princess, I heard Spitridates (since she answered him with nothing but tears) continue speaking unto her. I am even desperate Madam, said he unto her, that I should renew your sorrows, and to find that my presence in lieu of pleasing you, should grieve you: I desire your pardon, said the unto him, for receiving you so very ill: But Spitridates, my weakness has so just a cause for it, that you may excuse me: The Prince Sinnesis my brother did so tenderly love you, that I cannot look upon you without a revival of my sorrows, and so many several things comes into my mind at once, that it is not strange if my reason be a little disordered; for truly, the remembrance of what is past, the fear of what's to come, and surprised to see one so near me, whom I thought in prison, are lawful causes of this disorder in my soul: I was in hope Madam (said Spitridates) that this last mentioned cause would rather have rejoiced then grieved you; So it does, answered she, but not so much as it would, if the Prince my brother were yet living: Yet tell me, I conjure you, how the choler of Arsamones is appeased: It is not appeased at all Madam, replied he, and doubtless I have more incensed it by this my flight from him, which now I have made: Was it not by his consent, said she unto him, that you are come out of prison? No, replied he, the Princess Aristea is she unto whom I am obliged for my liberty; for after I was brought from Chalcedonia into Chrisopolis, she observed that the place they put me in was not inaccessible, as that was wherein I was before; so that as soon as I was brought thither, and before my father discovered the weakness of the place, she corrupted three of my guards, who out of a window, which was not barred with iron, they helped me to escape, and carried me disguised into a house of the Town, where I remained three days: Afterwards, when we heard the news of the King your father's death, which as you know preceded the death of the Prince Sinnesis, my Sister advised me to come unto that Prince, whom she then supposed to be King, and out of her goodness to me, she gave me a great part of her Jewels for the accommodation of my journey: In my way hither, I heard of yours and my second loss; but though I did conceive it was not safe for me to come hither, since the Prince Aryandes was to be King; yet I could not deprive myself of so much happiness, as to come and throw myself at your feet Madam, and to ask you what should be the fate of my life. Would to the Gods (replied the Princess, and sighed) that it were in my power to make you happy; but yet Spitridates, fortune is more powerful than I am, and I am afraid she will not consent unto it: So that you will consent, replied he, I cannot think she is able to hinder my happiness: I wish that all you say were true, replied she, but my reason does not show me how it can be. However Spitridates, though I cannot deny but that I receive my consolation to lament it with you, yet I cannot choose but tremble to see you at Heraclea, for the King my brother is to arrive here within these few days, and if he come to know that you are here disguised, what will he think of it? Alas Madam, said he, do you think to drive me from you, by telling me the King will come so soon, and that perhaps he may know I am here? Ah Madam, torment me not so cruelly, I have a very secure lodging; and since I have nothing to do at Heraclea, but to see you, I shall not easily be discovered: Yet however, answered she, I may hazard both my reputation, and your life, by permitting interviews, which how innocent soever they be, may be interpreted criminal. It is not late, replied she, and therefore it will not be thought strange, that a sad melancholy Mourner should walk so long; therefore Spitridates (said she, in rising up) we must leave you: However Madam, answered this Prince, I beseech you do me the honour to promise me another opportunity of speaking with you; I cannot consent unto your desire, replied she, but Hesinoida shall see you in any place: That indeed Madam, is a great favour, answered he; yet truly it cannot satisfy the passion which my soul has to you; and to discourse with you in freedom, does so much import the welfare of my life, that I do declare Madam, I will never go out of Heraclea, if you do not grant my respective passion that favour which I ask: I do not beg it Madam for any merits of my own, but in the name of the Prince Sinnesis, who has so often pleaded in my ●avour. This conjuration is very prevalent, replied she, yet all that I can promise you is, to use my best endeavour that I may see you once again: I shall be every day about this hour in this walk, replied he, where I may safely receive your orders, for the Gardener is most absolutely my faithful friend, having a long time served the Prince my father, & it was he who came to advertise me of your being here. I cannot consent that you expose yourself every day to the view, answered she, but tell Hesionida where you lodge, and she shall advertise you of my will. After this, the Princess left him, and Spitridates having told me where he lodged, it happened to be with one of my acquaintance, and whom I durst trust with any thing: Since the time that the Princess returned to her lodging, she appeared more studious and melancholy, then before she had seen Spitridates; and indeed she grieved extremely, when she considered that this Prince would extremely incense the King of Pont, as he had already Arsamones by his escape; so that to avoid this misfortune, she saw a necessity of moving Spitridates to depart presently, though she knew not in what quarter of the world he could find a Sanctuary, yet the misery had no other remedy; for she knew well enough the King of Pont did not love Spitridates, but affecting Pharnaces, as he did, he would solicit her to marry him: She knew also, that this Prince did never approve of the late King his father's policy, in desiring this double alliance with Arsamones; but on the contrary, he would often say, that the best way to establish the Kingdom of Bythinia, was to ruin all the pretenders unto it, and not to exalt and magnify them, so that on every side, she could find nothing but misfortune unto Spitridates. It was in vain to tell her, that the Gods when they pleased could change the hearts of Kings; for what confidence soever she had in them, she could not hope for that in which she saw so little appearance. The next morning news came, that the King would not have the day on which he intended to come to the Town precisely known, but that at the longest, it would not be above four or five days: The Princess seeing then so short a time to resolve, and that to defer the seeing of Spitridates until he was come to Town would be extremely dangerous, she appointed me to speak unto him, and if I could, to persuade him unto a departure without her seeing him, but that was not possible to be done: But to tell you the truth, I did not very obstinately oppose his design, because I did believe it would be in vain, and because I conceived this Prince had reason for his desire; perhaps also the love I bore my Country did induce me; but whatsoever it was, I told the Princess what Spitridates told me, which was, that absolutely he would either see her again, or die. The Princess perceiving his obstinacy, and seeing that the longer she stayed, the more danger there was, both unto Spitridates, and herself, resolved to permit a conference: We were long in consulting, whether it should be in the Garden, or in her Chamber; at last, the result was, it should be in the Garden, because since the King's death, so much respect was rendered unto the Princess, as that none took so much liberty in that place, as before they used: Also because, if by any misfortune the business should come to be discovered, it might there be taken for a surprise upon the princess, then for an interview which she premeditately consented unto, as it might, if he should come into her chamber. I advertised this unfortunate Prince then, to be in the Garden that evening, and in the same walk, in which before he met the princess, who was in twenty minds to go back with her word; one who saw her, would have said, she was going to commit some crime which she abhorred; and if I had not even violently forced her, I think she had not gone: But thither she went, without any with her but her women, who according to their custom, followed her no further than that solitary walk, unless she called them, so that I was there alone with her: Since we went thither betimes, because the walk should not seem extraordinary, Spitridates was not yet come, for he was to stay until it was night, not but that he was well enough disguised, and his lodging so near the Garden door, that he might come thither without danger: yet I did so strictly charge him to make it late before he came, that he did obey me, and make it dark: and since the Moon d●d shine, it was not strange that the Princess should walk so late, especially since she used to do so before. I cannot relate the thankful acknowledgements which Spitridates rendered unto her for this favour; all his words were so full of passion and respect, that all my expressions are too weak to manifest unto you the joy this Prince resented. The Princess for a quarter of an hour together did lend him a willing ear without returning any answer; but afterwards she fetched a profound sigh, and said unto him, Spitridates indeed has some reason to invite me to this conference, but he has much more reason to lament and complain against Fortune for engaging his affection unto one, who can make him nothing but unfortunate. Fortune Madam, replied he, has no share in that affection which I bear unto you: It is only your own beauty, your virtue, my own inclination and reason which prompts me unto it: and I am fully persuaded, that if it be but your pleasure to doom it so, all the malignity of foolish fortune, who often persecutes the innocent, and protects the vicious, cannot render me unhappy. Yes, yes, Divine Princess, If the unhappy Spitridates can but find any place in your heart, and that your goodness will always reserve it for him, he defies any misfortune that can come: all the disgraces of his family shall vanish out of his memory; his own particular dishonours shall not trouble him; the pleasing thoughts only of being in the fair Araminta's heart, shall charm all his sorrows, and root them out of his mind. I understand Madam, since I came hither, that the Prince Sinnesis upon his deathbed, and before many people, did mediate in my behalf, and desire you to look favourably upon me. This is it Madam, which makes me thus bold, and moves me to desire you, not to deny this favour unto that prince, who never denied you any thing: Therefore, I beseech you Madam, let not the King who now is, and who loves not me, hinder me from loving you, or you me. But yet I am his Sister, and Subject, replied the Princess, interrupting him. You are also both Sister and Subject unto the Prince Sinnesis, though he be dead, replied he, and the King who now reigns, having his Crown immediately from him, ought not in justice to obstruct the performance of his last Will: since indeed he was his King, as he is now yours. Ah Spitridates, cried she, the Will and Commands of a dead King, are never so well obeyed as the Commandments of a living King: a Reign of seven days, and in all that time death reigning over him, will by the Successor be esteemed as nothing: Yet if it be esteemed by you, answered Spitridates, it is enough. Yes, replied she, and sighed, you may be confident, that the last words of the prince Sinnesis, confirming in my heart those thoughts which your virtue had inspired me withal, I shall as long as I live be the same I am at present: But alas, Spitridates, it will not make you any thing more happy, but myself much more infortunate; for indeed, I do foresee, that perhaps this will be the last time, that ever I shall speak unto you: The last time, Madam? said he, and interrupted her; then must this be the last of my life: and I beseech you Madam, unless you desire I should immediately die, do not deprive me of some better hopes. I pray you, hope then if you can, said she unto him, and enjoy that comfort which I cannot find for myself. Doubtless the reason is, said this sad Prince, because you will not try all ways to make me happy. Perhaps, replied she, I shall not try all ways; but I will promise you to do all I ought, though perhaps not all I can, to procure your satisfaction; but as the case stands, which way should I contribute unto it? I dare not tell you Madam, answered Spitridates, that since you do not apprehend it yourself, it is a great sign, you have not any mind to do any thing for me. I would do any thing, replied she, which is not against the rules of virtue, and prudence. Can you not then assure me, said he, that all the power of the King shall not move you to marry Pharnaces? And if it be not too much to ask, cannot you permit me some hopes that if any advantageous alteration in my fortune chance to fall out, it shall inseparably reflect upon you? I am very sensible Madam, that since I am without either Crown, or Kingdom, it is too much rashness to speak thus. Yet, since the reason of my unhappy condition, is only because I am not upon the Bythinian Throne, which the King your Brother unjustly detains from me, I conceive, that the Princess Araminta ought not to despise me. It is very true, said she unto him, and I shall much more esteem you because you merit Crowns, than I shall do them that wear them without desert. But for all that Spitridates, although I should promise you not to marry Pharnaces, as perhaps without any crime I may, yet I fear that you would not be nearer any happiness: for you may very well imagine that I shall never marry you, against the King's mind: since it is a decency which all of my quality ought to observe. But suppose I should marry you, what should we do afterwards? you are out of all favour with the prince Arsamones for the love of me: Here is no safety for you by staying in this Court: Neighbour Princes will not entertain you who are son to an unfortunate and weak prince, lest it should incense a young King to declare War against them; therefore Spitridates, though you should not hearken to all rules of reason and prudence, yet, me thinks, your affection unto me, should dissuade you from any such design, since questionless you will never carry a Princess disguised and wandering throughout all Asia: No Spitridates, no, I know you would not, I am sure you love Araminta in a more noble and uninterrested way; yet do not think, that my unwillingness to follow your fortunes, how harsh soever, is any obstacle at all: I do protest, that it does not at all affright me, but it is my shame, that I should have any such resolution, which most deters me; Love, Spitridates, is a most innocent passion. I confess, provided that all the effects be innocent also, and never deviate from the ●u●s of reason; and therefore to justify my indulgence towards you, I must not do any thing which is unreasonable: Tell me then Madam, I beseech you, what you would have me do, professing, that since you do not forbid me to love you, nor to despair of love from you, I shall most exactly obey you. Alas I am not able to advise you, replied she, yet the best course which I can think upon, is to travel as a stranger in some unknown Country, until such time as the Princess Arbiana, and the Princess Aristea, have made your peace with Arsamones. This advice you give me Madam, answered Spitridates, is a good expedient to bring me into the subjection of the King your brother, as the Prince my father is already; but I cannot conceive it a good course to procure me the enjoyment of the Princess Araminta, since Arsamones possessing only an unfortunate share of the whole Kingdom of Bythinia, which is his due, the King of Pont will never consent unto any alliance with poor Arsamones, more than Arsamones would with him: And therefore Madam, since the affection which you are pleased to honour me withal, will not go a little higher than the limits of ordinary prudence, I must resolve upon my death. I see the prayers of the dying King your brother are not prevalent, since they cannot obtain that favour from that Princess, who is the sweetest in the world to them that do not adore her, but the most rigorous unto him, who of all men upon earth does most reverence her. But Spitridates (said he) whom do you complain of? Of you Madam, replied he, who would persuade me that you love me, and yet deny me any remedy for a lovesick soul; but if you did indeed love me, you would make me an absolute promise never to marry Pharnaces; and that if the Gods would permit— As Spitridates was going on with his discourse, Artanus came to tell the Princess, that the King was coming to her chamber: By good luck I heard his voice beyond the rail of the walk, so that we caused Spitridates to retreat in all haste; yet for all that Artanus did see one with us when he came first into the walk; but as soon as he had told the Princess, she gave her hand unto him, to the end she might draw him out of the garden. We were no sooner come unto her chamber, but the King came also, and Artanus having a handsome pretence to leave her, went in all haste unto the garden again, to see what that man who he saw before was: As ill luck was, Spitridates was not yet gone out, for he found the door next his lodging shut: Artanus spying him, did then follow him, and finding him one that shunned him, did conclude him to be the same who was with the Princess, he then imagined that perhaps it might be Pharnaces; but Spitridates being forced to leave the close walk, though he was disguised, yet by the light of the Moon he knew him by his gesture and walk, or at the least suspected him to be Spitridates, and so much the rather, because he heard that day by some Bythinians which were come unto Heraclea, that this Prince was escaped out of that prison where Arsamones kept him; so that his suspicion filled his heart fuller of curiosity: He followed him out of the garden into the streets, and to the house where he lodged: This confirmed him in his opinion, for he knew those who dwelled there were friends unto Spitridates. I leave you to imagine how this passage grieved Artanus, yet upon second thoughts he resented it not so sadly, but resolved by it to oblige the King, and ruin his Rival, by affirming, That assuredly Spitridates had some conspiracy against the State in agitation, but he would not reflect upon the princess, because he imagined it would too much incense her, nor would the State relish it. He was much vexed that Pharnaces did not share in his sorrows, to see Spitridates in such favour with the princess, as that for the love of her she permitted him to be disguised in Heraclea; but he resolved to reflect the business wholly upon him, and went into the King immediately, beseeching the honour of some privacy with him, concerning some very important business. The King then went out of the princess chamber into his own, where Artanus told all the story: The King no sooner heard that Spitridates was in Heraclea disguised, but he apprehended some conspiracy plotting against him; so that without loss of any longer time, he secretly commanded the Captain of his Guard, to go unto the house which Artanus saw Spitridates enter, and to secure his person: the King was obeyed; Spitridates not able to defend himself, is taken by the Guards, and imprisoned in a Tower, where Delinquents of high quality used to be secured: You may imagine how extremely was the princess surprised, to hear within an hour after that Spitridates was arrested; at the first she apprehended, that the King would think he was disguised for her; yet hearing nothing but conspiracies against the State talked on, though she thought herself safe enough in relation to her reputation, yet she feared the life of Spitridates was not so safe; you may imagine then how sadly she sighed away that night. But to disguise the matter, I told all her women that the princess was not well, and therefore would go to bed, and I would stay with her to comfort her; but yet it was more than I could do, for she did look upon the matter so full of danger unto Spitridates, that it troubled her extremely, and him no less than her: Since they said nothing when they took him, he knew not whether this interview was discovered, or whether he was taken only, as being found disguised in Heraclea; but yet the next morning his doubts were all cleared, for the King sent to examine him, what he came thither for? what his business was? and who were his Confederates in his conspiracy? Spitridates not hearing them speak one word concerning the princess, was exceedingly joyed, and answered, That after he escaped out of the prince his father's prison, and hearing in Chrisopolis, that the prince Sinnesis was King, he came unto Heraclea, in hopes to find a Sanctuary under the shelter of his favour; that when he came hither, and heard his reign lasted but seven days, he was much surprised, and so grieved at it, that he had not so much freedom of spirit, as at the first to resolve what course he should take; that in conclusion, he resolved to address himself unto the King which now reigned, and to desire of him the same protection which he hoped for from the late King his brother, but that he had not time to execute his design, because he was taken within an hour after his first arrival. Those who examined him, said, That there was no necessity of disguising himself, in coming to demand protection from the Prince Sinnesis, who loved him; unto which he answered, That he disguised himself only to get into Heraclea, out of Bythinia, and to make his voyage more secure, then if he had traveled with a train equipage and habit suitable to his quality. Although these his answers were very reasonable, yet did they not satisfy the King, but he still believed, that there was some hid design in it: And though he was not ignorant of Spitridates his affection unto the Princess Araminta, yet he knew her virtue so well, that she would never have any consent in this disguisement, but he believed, that ambition was the only end of this adventure; Pharnaces and Artanus did much confirm him in that belief: The first of these believing ambition to be his design, because he wished it; and the other seeming to believe it, that he might the sooner ruin Spitridates: Yet since he desired that jealousy might torment Pharnaces as well as himself, he acquainted him, that Love was the greatest cause of this Prince's disguisement: He imagined also, that he might perhaps by this way ruin Pharnaces in the opinion of the Princess Araminta, conceiving that Pharnaces to ruin his Rival, would infuse this new suspicion into the King, which when the Princess should know, she would be extremely incensed against him; and indeed at the first, the design d●d take as Artanus did desire it: for Pharnaces was much more troubled, to hear that Spitridates had seen the Princess, than he was to think he had designs against the State: Jealousy, as generous as he was, did rouse up his heart to insult over an unfortunate man, and moved him to tell it unto the King in all aggravating circumstances: When the Princess heard of it, she was infinitely angry with him; so that Artanus found out a way thereby to ruin both his Rivals at once, and make them as unfottunate as himself; for his own share, he deserved it, so did not the rest, especially Spitridates, who was far from deserving such disastrous destinies: But yet there is all spying inquisitions used, to find out, whether this Prince had held intelligence with any; those with whom he lodged, are all arrested, and examined, but do what they could, nothing was to be gotten out of them, or any else, which did either justify or condemn him; that which much contributed unto his misfortune was, That the King of Pont was so melancholy and sad, as none could hardly know him, so much had it altered him; at first, every one did think the death of his father and brother was the cause, but presently after it was known, that his love unto the Princess Mandana was the real cause of his distemper; for whilst he was as a hostage with Ciaxares, (as you already know) he became more desperately in love with her, than ever any, so that his soul being deeply perplexed with the absence of her he loved, it was more apt to be incensed against, and less able to know the innocency of Spitridates; yet being without all doubt a very gallant man, he behaved himself very well towards the Princess his Sister; and though Pharnaces had told him of the meeting betwixt Spitridates and her, yet did he not speak any thing sharply unto her, but on the contrary, coming one day to visit her, after he had first, without any choler, said as much unto her as any wise and discreet Prince could do upon the like occasion, to discover her thoughts; he afterwards told her, that he had perhaps incurred her displeasure in causing Spitridates to be arrested, since he understood she had a great esteem of him, both by the Command of the late King his Father, and also the late King, his Brother: yet he was necessarily forced unto it by reasons of State for the good of his people. Moreover he told her that he did not at all suspect her as any confederate with Spitridates in his conspiracy, who questionless would deceive her, and make her believe that his love to her was only the cause of his disguise, though indeed it was his ambition. Sir, said she unto him, If the affection which Spitridates expresseth unto me, had not the authority of the late King my Father, and of the Prince Sinnesis my Brother, I should not speak unto you as I do intend. But since it has them both for his patronage; I beseech you Sir, to believe that this Prince had never any design to get a Crown by depriving you of it: for had he been that way disposed, he had not been so long a prisoner unto his father. And without any scruple, I do ingeniously confess that I have seen him, and that it was by my invitation he came to Heraclea: Moreover I am most certain, that he came hither without any intentions of conspiring either against your Person, or State. If I should have the least suspicion of any such thing, in lieu of defending, I should accuse him, and move you to punish him. Sister, said the King, I do not so much endeavour the justification of Spitridates, as I do the preservation of your honour. And since I know you generous and full of reason, I cannot believe you will love Spitridates more than the honour of that family from which you are descended; therefore you must not think it strange, if this Prince being criminal, be not treated with so much indulgence as perhaps another Prince might be; for indeed, he is of that family which must be kept under; therefore Sister, the least I can do is to keep Spitridates in prison perpetually: Did I conceive him innocent, all the policy in the world should ●ever induce me to this rigour: but since he seems to be culpable, I must secure him: yet to make you satisfaction for the loss of this Prince, who doubtless was owner of excellent parts, I conjure you to marry Pharnaces: O Sir, said she unto him, I beseech you speak not unto me of any marriage, so soon after the Funerals of the King my Father; nor force me to disobey those Commands which the late King my Brother, when he was dying, did impose upon me. What Commands did he impose? (replied he.) He commanded me, (said she, and blushed) to be constant unto that opinion, which he by his Will when he died appointed me to have of Spitridates: When he said so, replied the King, he did not foresee that Spitridates would be a Delinquent to the State. Oh Sir, said she, Spitridates is most innocent, and by your slighting of the last Will of the Prince Sinnesis, do not constrain me to disobey you also in your commands of marrying Pharnaces? though he be a man of much worth, yet one whom I never loved, but esteemed very much; and therefore shall never behave myself but with indifferency towards him: The Princess thought that the King would have returned a sharp reply, unto such an ingenious declaration: But the passion which was in his own soul, doubtless teaching him how to excuse in another that weakness which he found in himself, he left her without one angry word: yet desiring her still to marry Pharnaces, and telling her, that she should change her opinion with the Times. The Love of Mandana taking up the whole soul of this Prince, made him never think upon Spitridates: his thoughts for some certain days were wholly employed in sending unto Ciaxares, to demand the Princess Mandana in marriage, and giving all necessary orders for the magnificent: of the Ambassador. In the mean while, the Princess foreseeing that Spitridates would never get out of prison, unless either by force or policy she resolved to set him free: and she was the sooner induced to it, because he who commanded that Tower where Spitridates was imprisoned, was one who was much obliged unto me; for during the late King's reign, I saved the life of one of his children, who was sentenced to die for some grand crime, and I obtained his pardon: Then was 〈◊〉 employed to negotiate in this important business, which in fifteen days I transacted so happily that I moved this man, by the memory of my past benefit, present grituity, and future hopes, to contrive a way how Spitridates might escipe, and he not suspected: This Tower did stand in the very Sea, in the top of which there was a walk: this man in the name of the prisoner asked leave for him to walk there one hour or two every day: so that briding two of the Guards which accompanied him, he tied unto the top of this Tarrass, a Ladder of ropes, as if Spitridates had escaped that way; and none perceiving him, this Captain of the Tower did shut this Prince and the two suborned Guards in a very private place of the Castle: counterfeiting after this, to be much troubled: he asked where Spitridates was, and was answered, that he was in the Tarrass: Thither he went with many soldiers, and not finding him, he found the Ladder which he himself had placed there: he showed it unto them which followed him, he chafed, and said, that certainly their companions had betrayed him, and that doubtless he was gone in a little boat, since a great Ship could not approach; he began to fume and fret, and threaten all them that were present, and to accuse them as well as those who were escaped: and being in all appearance transported with fury, he went to acquaint the King, he told them, that Spitridates might certainly be overtaken, if he were immediately sent after, and that he conceived he could not yet get into Heraclea, and therefore if they sent out many Shallops they would infallibly meet with this prisoner, and all his complices; to be short, he carried it so handsomely, that the King himself was deluded; and appointed not only many Barks to be sent out at Sea, but also that there should be strict Guards kept at the Gates of the Town, left Spitridates should get in disguized, not conceiving that he durst put to op●n Sea in a small Boat; and upon search there was not any considerable Ship wanting in the Port. Moreover, Phar●aces and Artanus knowing that his passion to the Princess was the cause of all this, persuaded the King, that certainly he would get into Heraclea in the habit of a fisher, or some such disguise, and therefore what pains did not they take to apprehend him? they founlrf the Guards at the gates; they set Centuries in the streets: they searched all suspected houses; and omitted nothing that might make their wished for discovery. The King had some light suspicions, that the Princess had some hand in this escape, and told her as much. But since he had no proofs, and was ignorant of any obligations between me, and the Captain of that Tower, for it was by the Prince Sinnesis, that I had obtained pardon for his son, all these surmises and suspicions did quickly vanish. All this while, Spitridates was in the prison where they never searched, and where he must remain a while before he durst attempt a coming out. When Spitridates was informed by this Captain, that it was by my negotiation he was in prison, but not a prisoner; he supposed that the Princess did also know of it; so that he desired so much favour as to see me before he departed, which, without acquainting the Princess, I consented unto it, conceiving myself obliged to do so much for the son of the right King of Bythinia: but after I had given him some hopes of his desire, the difficulty was how to execute it; yet since the Captain of the Tower's wife was of the intelligence, I resolved to go thither with one woman only, and to enter by a little back door, which was towards the walls of the Town. It is impossible, Sir, for me to relate all the testimonies of grateful acknowledgements, which Spitridates did give unto Araminta, and me. But Hesionida, said he unto me, have you not set me at liberty, with intentions to exile me for ever? Is it not only an exchange of this punishment for one more cruel? Sir, replied I unto him, it is fortune, not the Princess, which banisheth you; but since fortune is a very unconstant Lady, there is some hopes that since she has changed so often unto your disadvantage, she will at length change in your favour. I wish she may, replied he, although I cannot hope it: However Hosionida, it would be the height of cruelty, for me to depart, and not bid adieu unto my Princess, or know her last will, and pleasure. I can easily acquaint you with her intentions, said I unto him, since she has done me the honour to trust me with her most secret thoughts: but as for seeing her, it is not permitted so much as to think upon it: Leave it unto the Gods, Sir, who perhaps will be more propitious unto you during your exile, than you imagine: But Hesionida, said he unto me, and sighed, may a miserable and absent Prince ever hope that the Divine Araminta will ever preserve her affection entirely to him? Yes Sir, replied I, you may, and without any fear of being deceived: for since your unhappiness is but an effect of your love to her, she would be very unjust, if she should not always resent your misfortunes: Go therefore Sir, and seek out some Sanctuary, until some change be found in the hearts of the two Kings of Pontus, and of Bythinia. The princess does very well know, that if you had any thoughts of remounting the Throne, you might have done it: and she conceives herself most sensibly obliged unto you for preferring her before a Crown: so that it is impossible she should ever forget it.  
In conclusion, Sir, I made him resolve upon his departure: and since he had many jewels which the Princess Aristea gave him at his departure from Chrisopolis, he would not receive any of those which I offered him from the Princess; for I knew her intentions was to furnish him: he therefore desired me to deliver a Letter unto her; which he writ in my presence, and which, if my memory fail not, was in these Terms.  
SPITRIDATES unto the Princess ARAMINTA.  
I Go Madam, since it is your pleasure, be I go the most miserable man alive; I neither know whither I shall go, nor when I shall return, no, nor whether you wish I should ever return, and yet I am bid to live and hope; but I can neither do the one nor the other, unless you command it by two lines under your hand: Therefore my divine Princess, I do beg it in the name of that illustrious Prince, who now is dead, but who yet shall live eternally in the memory of  
SPITRIDATES.  
After this Prince had given me his Letter, and a hundred things in charge to tell the Princess, I went unto her, and related all the passages of our meeting; at the first she lamented the fate, but upon second thoughts was not sorry for it; and I was so importunate with her, that I moved her to return this answer unto that distressed Prince.  
ARAMINTA unto SPITRIDATES.  
MAy you live as long as it shall be the pleasure of the Gods to permit; and hope, that as long as Araminta lives, she will pray for you; and since you desire it, she bids you live, and hope.  
ARAMINTA.  
The Captain of that Tower coming to take this Letter, he assured me that Spitridates would depart that night following, with those two of the guard, who helped him to escape, and whom he took to serve him. Moreover he told me, that Spitridates desired he might sometimes write u to him, to the end he might acquaint me with his fortune, and return my answers back unto him: So when night came, we were certain this Prince would depart, and the Princess was so troubled at it, that I wonder something extraordinary was not discovered in her mind; but the next morning we were informed, that Spitridates was very safely gone out of Heraclea, by the same way, which it was conceived, he escaped before, the Captain providing a ship for him in the night: Though the Princess had reason rather to be glad that he was gone, then that he should continue mewed up in a prison, yet her soul was extremely sad, when she imagined that perhaps she should never see him again: But this long and tedious absence must be endured and in the interim there fell out many remarkable accidents; for as it is well known unto you Sir, Ciaxares refused to give Mandana unto the King of Pontus, which made him the sooner forget Spitridates, and his anger was so high, that a war against Ciaxares must be declared, under a specious pretence of right unto the Towns of Anisa, and Cerasea: You Sir are better acquainted with all the passages of that business than I can relate, and obtained more honour than my memory can conain; I shall only relate what is requisite to instruct you in the story of this Princess: As soon then as the King of Pontus heard, that Ciaxares had rejected him, he prepared for war, thinking that perhaps it might move him to give the princess Mandana unto him; he sent for aid from the King of Phrygia, who promised to embrace his interest, according to the last treaty between the late King of Pontus and him, and that he would come himself in person to command his forces. Since the King of Pontus stood in need of all aid, he invited the prince Arsamones, and Euriclides his second son to serve in his Army, and Arsamones durst not deny him: We understood also at the same time, that this prince hearing how Spitridates came disguised unto Heraclea, was so incensed at it, that he did protest if ever he got him within his power, he would not treat him as a son, but as a rebellious subject, and a Delinquent unto the State; who had broke out of prison; so that Spitridates, who was gone into Paphlagonia, and writ unto me as well as the princess, to know whether he might c●me safely unto the King her brother when he was in the head of his Army, she did forbid him, because Arsamones was to be there, and because the princess Aristea had acquainted her with the real resentments of Arsamones. But whilst all preparations of war were in hand, Pharnaces and Artanus neglected no addresses unto the princess Araminta, and sprused up themselves every way to invite her love, but all their cares and courtship was in vain; for as there is nothing which fastens the knot of amity more than misfortunes does, amongst persons truly generous, so Spitridates being unfortunate, by reason of his love unto the princess, was deeper rooted in her heart then before; and she knowing that Artanus was the occasion of his last imprisonment, and that Pharnaces did acquaint the King with their meeting, she was therefore so incensed against them, that she could not endure the sight of them; yet after that the Phrygian Regiments were drawn up to the general Rendezvouz, and joined with the Pontean forces, the King made ready to depart, and though Artanus had no great fancy unto any matters of war, yet he durst not do as he did before, but made himself ready as others did to go; and since the King did not all favour his design upon the princess, he took his leave of her only in public, but Pharnaces did not so; for the King of Pont going to bid her adieu, he carried Pharnaces with him, and left him there in private with her; I chanced to be then in the princess chamber, and I do confess, I saw so deep a melancholy in the face of Pharnaces, that considering his merit, I did much pity him, and wished for his sake, that he were able to desist his love from the princess, since it was not in her power to render him happy; since the King was gone, and this like to be his last visit, she was not so severe towards him as sormerly, but suffered him to speak unto her: Madam, said he unto her, I come to receive my do●m from you, before I go unto the wars, and ask you whether I must fight, as one that would vanquish, or as one that must die, whether I must preserve my life, or absolutely lose it, for upon your will only, absolutely depends my destiny: Yes Madam, if you permit me any hopes, perhaps I shall live, vanquish, and return; but if you intent to tell me, that I must not have any share in any hope, than I beseech you bid me this last adieu without any bitterness, since the Gods certainly will not preserve what you desire to destroy, nor draw me out of those dangers unto which I will expose myself, pronounce my sentence then Madam, and let it be with sincerity, though you will not with satisfaction: Remember I beseech you, that he whom you desire to make haypy cannot be so, and therefore you have less reason to treat me ill: If the prince Spitridates could ever enjoy your affection, I do protest before the Gods which hear me, I would rather die without complaint, then interrupt your felicity; but since that Fortune has put an unremovable obstacle unto his happiness, why may not you make me happy? and why divine Princess will you oppose against my glory? I do not ask so much, as that you should love me, I only beg you would not hate me, and to be more pliant unto the King's desires. I wish to the Gods Pharnaces, replied the princess, that your happiness did depend upon me, as you believe it does: But to manifest unto you that the cause of complaint against you, has not extinguished out of my soul that high esteem which all the world ought to have of your merit; I will contribute as much as is in my power unto your freedom, and move you by my own sincerity to vanquish your own soul, and to rest satisfied. Know then Pharnaces, that since I am obliged to entertain the affection of Spitridates by the commands of the late King my father, and the Prince Sinnesis my brother, I must eternally pay obedience unto them; and the most peremptory commands of one living King, shall never make me disobedient unto the will of two dead Kings: 'Tis true, I do resolve never to marry Spitridates without the consent of the King my brother, neither am I as fully resolved ever to marry any else but him; therefore Pharnaces regulate your designs accordingly, and make use of that great courage which the gods have inspired you withal, to vanquish and suppress a misfortune, which as I think requires not all the vigour of your mind to surmount it; live then Pharnaces, live I say, but let it be in liberty, that you may live happily; and since the want which the King would have of you, would be irreparable, I earnestly desire you to preserve your life, which would conduce infinitely unto my satisfaction, if you could so far prevail with yourself, as only to esteem me. But suppose Madam, replied he, that I cannot so prevail with myself, would you not conceive it more reasonable that death should rather deliver you and me from that servitude which displeaseth you, then to see me perpetually languishing at your feet, and vexing you? Death, said she unto him, is a thing so horrid, that I do not wish it unto my very enemies; and therefore I must needs advise you, not to take so violent a remedy as that: But Madam (said he unto her with extreme sorrow) is it so, that you can never love the miserable Pharnaces, nor for sake the too happy Spitridates? I must needs confess it with much engenuity, (said she unto him) because I may do it with much innocency. It is enough Madam (said he unto her with a drooping sadness) and I beseech you do me the favour to believe, that this shall be the last time of all my life I ever shall importune you; and I pray unto the Gods, that the news of my death may make you know I am able to dispute with Spitridates for the glory of perfectly loving you. After this, he left the Princess with such a melancholy motion, and his countenance did so alter as he did bid her adieu, that it might well be said, all the horrors of death were in his eyes, and the Princess could not choose but pity him. After this Sir, we remained at Heraclea, soliciting the Gods against you Sir, for we knew you would be in that war; but it seemed Heaven was not propitious ●nto us; for you saved the life of Ciaxares, you conquered, and triumphed, and did such wonders, that though they were unto our disadvantage, yet could we not cause but admire when we heard them related: I shall slightly pass over the beginning of this war, and in a few words tell you, that when the combat of two hundred against two hundred was resolved upon, and when all the question was concerning the choice, there was a great contest amongst the Gallantry of our Army, who should be the Combatants: and though Artanus was none of them, yet seemed he to desire the listing himself in the Catalogue of those who were to be chosen: The election was to be by lot, and the names of those who aspired unto this honour, should be put in writing, and drawn by the Captain of the Kings Guard. Pharnaces who was in the first degree of valour, and who looked for nothing but death since he could not be loved, had no fancy to trust the business unto lot: so that knowing who was to draw these lots, he went unto him: and after a thousand protestations of friendship, and as many prayers to grant his desire, he gave unto him the Roll wherein his name was writ, and beseeched him to keep it between his fingers, and give it unto him as if he had drawn it: The Captain smiling at his proposition, could not choose but tell him, that every one who brought their names were not so urgent as he was to be in this Combat: Pharnaces had a suspicion that the Captain did mean Artanus, told him, that he could not believe there was any which did not extremely desire to honour themselves by such an extraordinary occasion as this; No not Artanus himself, said he unto him, hoping thereby to move him into a farther explanation: when the Captain heard the name of Artanus mentioned, he laughed; so that Pharnaces thinking his thoughts true, did press so urgently, that he told him how Artanus had been with him, and told him that this Combat being to be performed on foot, he should not be able to be an actor in it; because his Horse not long since falling upon him, had caused a great weakness in his ●high: yet he was not willing to make use of this excuse in public, lest his enemies should make an ill construction upon it, and therefore he desired and conjured him by all possible entreaties to take out the Roll wherein his name was written, from amongst the rest: and to gratify the favour, he offered him any courtesy if he would be faithful and secret unto him. Pharnaces finding the baseness of his Rival desired to punish him for it, and beseeched the Captain to draw himself and Artanus together in the number of the Combatants, which the Captain, as well to punish the cowardice of the one, as to satisfy the generous valour of the other, promised him to do: The hour of this Ceremony being come, all the Rolls were brought unto this Captain, and he put them all into a Bag, whilst all the pretenders unto this honour stood about him: Since Artanus thought his Roll not amongst the rest, who was more forward and desirous to be one of that number then himself? but how lamentably was he damped when he heard his own name to be the third Scroll which was drawn? he seemed so qualmed at the heart as every one perceived it: Pharnaces who was next him, did taunt him with some ambiguous language by way of Raillery, which Artanus did well enough understand: but afterwards the name of Pharnaces was drawn, and all the rest in their course, so that nothing more was to be done but to prepare for combat: As for Artanus, he had never been chosen, had he not been in love wi●h Araminta: but he durst never publish as much, nor complain of the Captain who had deceived him: yet however he resolved to go as far as the place of combat, though he did nothing else. As for Pharnaces, he went thither with other kind of thoughts; for he went in hopes to perish there, and also to see his Rival die, but before he departed, he writ these words unto the Princess Araminta.  
PHARNACES unto the Princess ARAMINTA.  
IF Fortune second my design, I am going thither where by dying I shall vanquish; and where I shall make it known by my generous despair, that though I could not merit your affections by my services, and by my life: yet I shall not render myself unworthy of your compassion by my death.  
PHARNACES.  
The truth is Sir, you know, he fought like a Fury, and died a Hero: As for Artanus, I believe you are not ignorant, Sir, of the reason why he kept himself ●id whilst Pharnaces only was resisted by you, which was, his hopes that you would dispatch his only Rival, for he made no account of Spitridates: and so love having its several operations, it moved Pharnaces to be more valiant than ever, and Artanus to be more cowardly than he could imagine himself: When we had intelligence of Pharnaces his death, and presently after heard of Artanus his baseness, we lamented the loss of the first, and abhorred the villainy of the other: so that since the Combat you had with him to make him confess his lie, he durst never show himself, neither to the Army, nor to the Princess, nor in Heraclea, but hid himself for a time in the Country, where he harboured an invetered hatred against you, not only because you had loaded him with an intolerable burden of dishonour and shame, but also, because he saw you resembled Spitridates. That Letter from the unfortunate Pharnaces, did deeply imprint itself in the heart of the Princess when she read it, which as her soul was ever extremely tender and compassionate, so she could not look upon it without tears in her eyes; and was for a quarter of an hour together so drowned in a flood of sorrows, as I believe if that illustrious Lover could have revived, and Spitridates had been a Spectator, he would have died of a causeless jealousy: In the mean while we had no intelligence from this exiled Prince; and all the consolation which the Princess had, was a secret correspondency with the Princess Aristea, and in doing her all the good offices she was able. The King was so deeply perplexed at the death of Pharnaces, as possible could be: but since the love of Mandana was more predominate in his heart then any thing else, he cheered up himself with the thoughts of her; and that seeming peace after your victory, being again broken; Wars, as you know, began to break out more violently than before: then I must needs tell you, Sir, that none could ever entertain a greater admiration of any than we of you; and when we heard the wonders of all your actions related, we had a good ground for our belief, that the Gods were infinitely favourable unto Ciaxares in sending him such a defender: To be short, it was impossible for any to esteem an enemy more than we did the Illustrious Artamenes: Also when the Princess heard how Artanus had conspired against your life, and suborned forty Conspirators to destroy you, she had such a fresh and strong aversion to him, that his very name was horrid unto her ear: for since she understood you had saved the King her Brother's life, she became extremely tender of yours: and when you pardoned Artanus, and sent him back, she murmured a little (though she did admire you) against that excessive generosity which moved you to desire the King of Pont not to punish him: yet notwithstanding, she negotiated so with the King her Brother, that she procured his banishment out of the Kingdom, with a strict command never to be seen in it again. Since this Sir, until that famous adventure when you took the King of Pont prisoner, and when we thought you dead, I have nothing to relate, unless I should entertain you with those sorrows which the Princess apprehended, for the disgrace of the King her Brother, and with her Lamentations for the long absence of Spitridates. But since I should thereby only abuse your patience, because you may easily imagine it without my relation, I shall only tell you, that the very next morning after you came wounded unto that Castle, where the Princess Arbiana, and the Princess Aristea were, there came a messenger from the King of Pont, who was going unto the Princess Araminta his Sister with this message, that he was as much grieved for the death of his vanquisher, as he was for the loss of his own liberty: si●ce this Envoy did but only pass by, and was not to stay in this Castle, where Arbiana and Aristea were, the Princess Aristea taking you for Spitridates, did write these few words only in a Letter.  
The Princess ARISTEA, unto the Princess ARAMINTA.  
I Hardly dare tell you that Spitridates is here, because he is here wounded: yet since I cannot make a Secret of any thing which will add unto your joy, I cannot conceal it.  
ARISTEA.  
You may imagine with what variety of apprehensions the Princess mind was possessed upon the receipt of this Letter; and understanding by this Messenger that the King her Brother had lost two Battles in one day; That he was taken prisoner; that you were dead: You Sir, I say, in whom the King her Brother had so great a hope, her sorrows were so great, that she could not perfectly relish any joy at the pretended return of Spitridates, especially hearing by the same relation that he returned wounded: yet since love, as they say, is a most imperious passion, and will be Sovereign in that heart which is possessed with it; therefore she would sometimes rejoice and cheer up herself in hopes of seeing Spitridates again: but within two days after this, she was deprived of that hope: for the Princess Aristea did write again unto her how she had been deceived by a most prodigious resemblance, she intimated by her Letter, that the picture of the Princess Araminta did undeceive her, when she showed it unto him whom she took for her brother; and the conclusion of the Letter was, that Spitridates was not returned; so that she resented the misfortunes of her brother the King of Pont, without any ingredient of consolation, but yet notwithstanding presently after, when she heard of your being revived, as I may say, it was a great mitigation of her sorrows, especially when she heard that it was you who was taken for Spitridates, at the house of Arbiana; her hopes was, that you Sir being the most generous of men, would treat her brother the King of Pont very well; and her hopes also was the more pleasant unto her, that Spitridates, according to the Princess Aristeas Letter, would exactly resemble him. In the mean time, since this Princess had a soul which was capable of all things, she began to cast her cares upon the business of State, but she found them to be in extreme disorder. The King of Phrygia was retreated after the loss of two battles in a day unto the furthest part of all Bythinia, and who when he was over the river Sangar, received intelligence, that Craessus King of Lydia was entered into his Dominions with a puissant Army, so that he was constrained to look after his own defence, and taken off from the assistance of others: All his Regiments also were exceedingly shattered and weakened; but yet when the Princess did conceive that Ciaxares having the King of Pont prisoner, he would not make any new attempts, since he was able to make his own conditions, without any ●urther hazard of his forces, she was then a little more at rest.  
But within a few days after, she was extremely astonished to hear, that all the soldiers after the King was taken did declare themselves for Arsamones, and that all Bythinia was up in Arms in his behalf, and were resolved to return under the obedience of their ancient Lord. Moreover that Artanus, who was one of high quality, was returned into the Kingdom, and had also raised a great part of Pontus, and was himself retired unto a very considerable Town called Cabira, having before hand suborned the Governor thereof with a good sum of money. Imagine Sir, I beseech you, in what an entangled condition this young Princess was in, to see the King of Pont her brother a prisoner, and that Arsamones, the father of Spitridates, was not only Master of all Bythinia, but was also in the head of an Army, ready to fall upon the Kingdom of Pontus, so that she was constrained with all the power she had to oppose and make war against the Father of a Prince, who infinitely adored her, and whom she herself did not hate. She furthermore saw, that he who of all men living she most scorned, and had the greatest aversion unto, had bandied a considerable party against her, notwithstanding his great affection unto her: She, poor Princess, had neither any forces, nor money to raise them; and that State was so embroiled, that she knew not whom to trust; and in this pitiful distracted condition, she knew not whether she should be sad or glad at the absence of Spitridates, for she conceived it not fit for him to fight for her against his own father, neither did she desire he should fight for his father against her; so that not knowing either what to wish; or what to do, she prayed unto the Gods to deliver her out of this gulf of misfortunes. But in conclusion Sir, your generosity not deceiving her hopes, but setting the King of Pont at liberty, unto whom you gave considerable Auxiliaries under the conduct of Artaxes, we received this intelligence with all acclamations of joy; and indeed the people of Heraclea took fresh heart, when they heard their Prince set at liberty after so generous a manner, public rejoicings were appointed, and the glorious name of Artamenes was as highly celebrated in Heraclea, as it was in Sinope or Themiscira. The Princess then hearing the King was upon his return, would go to meet him, and since we knew there was none of Arsamones his troops that way which he was to come, we went two day's journeys before to meet him; but to our great misfortune we fell into an Ambuscado which waited for us in a Forest, and carried us a blind way which was unknown unto us; we knew not whether they would carry us unto Arsamones or Artanus, and in the choice of these two, the Princess knew not which to wish; for if it should be unto Arsamones, though she was in hopes of much mildness from him, by the mediation of the Princess Arbiana, and the Princess Aristea, yet she imagined that the King her brother might perhaps suspect she did voluntarily fall into his hands, since he was not ignorant of her affection unto Spitridates, though he could not be ignorant that Arsamones did hate his son for loving her, yet notwithstanding the very name of Artanus was so averse unto her fancy, that at the hazard of being ill used by Arsamones, or suspected by the King her brother, she wished rather to be carried into Bythinia, then unto Cabira, under the power of such a man: But yet the choice was not in her, for towards night we were brought unto Artanus, who as amorous as he was, durst not venture himself in this enterprise, but committed the carriage of the business unto a resolute soldier, who heretofore was one of those who conspired against your life: When the Princess saw Artanus in the head of two hundred horse ready to receive her, she was surprised; for though he was known to be a very Coward, yet since to be a Mutineer and a Rebel is sufficient to raise a party, his was not small, and we were much grieved to see so many gallant men obeying such a Captain; but we were forced to submit unto fortune, and be carried into Cabira, where he was Master, and in which there was a Castle of a great strength, wherein he lodged us: I will not stay to relate unto you Sir all the insolences of Artanus, for it is enough that you know him a Coward, to imagine how he would lay aside all due respects when he is once the stronger; and since it is most ordinary to see them who want courage never to be submissive, but when they are weak, yet he met with a soul so great in the Princess, and so resolute a spirit, that maugre all his insolence, she so charmed him, that he durst hardly come into her chamber, or to see her. Mean while the King of Pontus, as afterwards we heard, came to Heraclea, and was extremely angry at the carrying away of the Princess his Sister, but as the state of things stood, he durst not by any means divide his Army, and he knew that Arsamones was so strong, that it would not permit him to continue a siege; and therefore since his business was either to relieve a Sister, or to save two Crowns, I believe common policy might easily incline him unto the latter, rather than the first. The condition of things standing thus, Artanus was so impudent as to send unto the King of Pontus, and offer unto him his forces, upon condition of his consent unto the marriage betwixt himself and the Princess Araminta; but the King would not hearken unto any such propositions, answering him. That if he had a desire to vanquish his enemies without any trouble, he would wish them such aid as he offered; and also bidding him have a care how he used the princess his Sister, because as soon as he had finished the Bythinian war, he would then call him to a strict account for all his demeanour: You may imagine then Sir in what a condition the princess was in, who knew of all these passages by one of her guards, who was suborned unto it: For when she imagined that Arsamones would kill the King her brother, or that the King her brother would kill the father of Spitridates, she did absolutely lose her reason. In the mean while the King of Pantus, after he had rallied all the forces he was able, went into the field to oppose Arsamones, who was already master of a great part in the Kingdom of Pontus, and in the first encounter the Prince Euriclides was slain, which much grieved Arsamones. But Sir, why should I busy myself in relating the particulars of a war which is known all over Asia? It is enough that I acquaint you how this Prince, as gallant as he was, yet was he almost quite beaten; that which contributed much unto his ruin, was Aribeus, who calling away his brother with all his forces, did much weaken him; and though the King of Pontus would not con●ent unto it, because it was done without any order, either from Ciaxares or you, yet Artaxes obeyed the absolute authority of Aribeus, who was then Governor of Sinope; so that this Prince being much weakened thereby, was forced to make a retreat into Heraclea, and to stay there until he had raised fresh forces, and be able to come again into the field: But Sir, he had not time for it, for Arsamones, after that the Prince In●aphernes the son of Gadates was come unto him, not omitting such a favourable opportunity, advanced with his Army, and besieged him within the capital City of all his Kingdom, which indeed was the only place that remained under his obedience; for that part which was not subjected unto Arsamones, yet took part with Artanus. We understood by several relations whilst we were in Cabira, how the King of Pontus during this siege, did do such miracles, as that it may well be said he deserved a hundred Crowns in losing his own: But however, seeing his enemies were not only Masters of all without the Town, but also of one of the Gates, and that they had now nothing to do but to enforce the last entrenchment; since he had no mind to fall alive into the hands of Arsamones, he resolved to fly away in a ship, and to go and offer his sword unto Ciaxares towards the delivery of the Princess Mandana, of whose carrying away he had heard with unconceivable sorrow, and hoping that a●ter this you would aid him to recover his Dominions: And indeed he did execute the first part of his design, for he went out of Heraclea, not any thing of two flourishing Kingdoms remaining unto him, but the title of King, which fortune could not deprive him of. When the Princess received this sad news, she resented it with insupportable sorrow; for Sir, be pleased to know, that the insolent Artanus assuming new boldness upon this new misfortune, came unto her with more incivility than ever before we saw him. Madam, said he unto her, since I ever thought that the strongest reason which moved you to treat me so imperiously as you have done, was, because I was a subject unto the King your brother, I think it therefore expedient to let you know, that now he must never be my Master again, since fortune has taken from him his Crown, and two Kingdoms which he enjoyed, and has nothing left him but one single sh●p, ●n which he has conveyed himself away from his enemies; therefore Madam, since you are not now the sister of a King, you may well look upon my condition as not inferior unto yours, and for the future carry yourself otherwise then heretofore you have done: Since you have only the heart of a Slave, replied the Princess, I should do you too much honour to regard you as a simple Subject of the King my brothers; and though fortune should take away his Crown, yet since she cannot take away his birth, which is infinitely above yours, she therefore cannot change my opinion of you; and though you had more Crowns then the King my brother has lost, yet should I despise and scorn you upon your Throne, as much as I do now; and though there should be an alteration in your soul (as I think it impossible) yet should you never s●e me change; therefore Artanus consider a little better what you say, and remember that my fathers were ever Masters over yours; that I have the honour to be daughter and sister unto three Princes, unto whom I have seen you subject, and indeed there is an undispensable obligation lies upon you, to respect and honour me all the days of your life. The Princess pronounced these words with so much majestic choler, that she made him blush, and forced him to make a scurvy excuse for his insolency, and a● last to leave her at liberty to lament the disgrace of the King her brother, which we had a more particular relation of from that guard which was very faithful un●o us. Alas Hesionida, said she, how deplorable is my destiny? and unto what a cruel fate am I exposed? I was bo●n upon a Throne, and am now a Slave, and a Slave unto him that is the most unworthy amongst men: I● I consider the misfortunes of my brother, I have not tears enough to lament his misfortunes; If I contemplate my own, I shall find them so dismal, that I see no way bu● death to terminate them; hitherto I have loved Spitridates most innocently, the late King my father desired it, the Prince and King Sinnesis my brother appointed it. But now Hesionida, since he is son to an usurper of my brother's Kingdom, and a ruiner of my Family, how is it possible I should love him without a sin? But Madam, said I unto her, Spitridates was not in this war: 'Tis true, said she, but yet he is son unto the usurper of the Kingdom of Pont; so that though my reason does not induce me to accuse him, yet it is not handsome or fit I should love him any longer; therefore Hesionida, whether he be innocent or culpable I ought not to see him any more, though he were in a place where I might do it. Moreover, in what part of the earth could he possibly be, where he could not hear the Pontean and Bythinian war discoursed on? and is it credible, that since he must needs know the state of things, I should never hear any news from him? if he was fuller of ambition then love, why did he not appear in the head of his father's Army? and if he was fuller of love then ambition, why does he not endeavour to deliver me out of the hands of Artanus? and why did he not let me know that his heart did not approve of what Arsamones his father had done? I confess Madam, said I unto her, that I cannot understand why Spitridates should be so long silent: No more can I, replied the princess, and therefore in all reason I must imagine him dead, but I wish the Gods he may not justify himself in my opinion by so sad a way. If I should Sir, repeat unto you all the lamentations and reflections which the Princess had upon the King her brothers' misfortunes, upon the mutability of terrene things, and upon the innocent passions of her soul, I should abuse your patience; therefore I shall slightly pass by them, and tell you, that Artanus considering himself under the verge of a victorious A●my, commanded by a Prince who had conquered two Kingdoms, he was not without some unquiet thoughts; f●r although he had very gallant m●n in his party, yet was he not at all grown more valiant himself, and notwithstanding all his love unto the Princess, I believe he repented more than once of his undertake: He also sent unto Arsamones to capitulate and propound some conditions betwixt them. But since he desired that Cabira should remain in his hands for his security, and that he might always keep the Princess Aram●nta under his power, Arsamones absolutely desiring it himself, would not hearken unto him, nor handsomely entertain those which came from him; so that after this refusal, Artanus was more perplexed then before: 'Tis true, he enjoyed some days of rest, because Arsamones falling sick, it retarded the march of his A●my which was coming against him. As things stood in this condition, there came a Cavalier into Heraclea, where then the Queen Arbiana was (for it is but just to give her that title which is her du●) there came I say a Cavalier, who on his Buckler bore the Emblem of a Slave, which seemed ●o have his cho●ce either of F●tters or Crowns, and he broke the last, and assumed the first, with th' 〈…〉 M●tro, More heavy, but more glorious: As it was late when he came, so he was unknown at his entrance into the Town, and his devise was not observed that night; but as soon as he alighted from his horse, at the house of an old acquaintance, he went unto the Palace where the Queen & Princess were; as for Arsamones he was yet sick in the Country, whither these Princesses (with the Princess Istrina sister unto Intaphernis, who was then in that Court) were the next morning to go. This Cavalier went strait unto the chamber of the Princess Aristea, and desired a servant to tell her there was a stranger which desired to speak with her in private, concerning some important business; the servant told him, that she was with the Queen in her closet, into which he durst not enter, but he was so urgent with him to tell it unto them both, that thinking the business was of some great consequence, that he went in, and returned presently back to bring him in: But Sir, he was no sooner stepped into the Close●, but the Queen rising up was extremely surprised: I am very glad (said she unto him) to see you in a better condition than you were the last time I saw you in Bythinia, and when I mistook the Illustrious Artamenes for the unfortunate Spitridates. Madam, you give me a very glorious name (replied the right Spitridates, for indeed it was he whom the Queen Arbiana took for you,) but yet I wonder that you should not know me. The Princess Aristea taking a candle, and looking him in the face, Madam, said she unto the Queen, without all doubt he whom now you see is my brother, and not Artamenes. Spitridates who had several times been taken for another in his travels, was not less surprised, then if he had not been formerly mistaken; therefore telling them many passages which none but they could know, they then knew him, and expressed all the signs of joy and tenderness that possible could be at the meeting of one so dear unto them, whom they never thought to see again. Since the Queen his mother did always love him, she had used all possible endeavours to mollify the incensed spiritof Arsamones, but she could never move him unto it; yet because she would not perplex this Prince at the first meeting, she spoke not any thing concerning it unto him, but only told him after some two hours' conference, that he must not let it be known he was in Heraclea, until she had spoken with him. After this he went a back way unto his chamber, where some tears were bestowed upon the memory of Euriclides, and the Princess Aristea stayed with him, who had not seen him since the death of Sinnesis, in the memory of whom both sighed; but before he entered into discourse of any thing else, he asked concerning the Princess Araminta. I cannot Sir express the sorrows which Spitridates resented to see himself in that place where first he began to love the Princess, and she him; nor can I describe his grief of heart when he considered that it was his own father who was the cause she was not here now. Moreover when he fancied her to be in the clutches of Artanus, he was almost out of his senses, and it was long before he could give satisfaction unto the Princess his sister, who desired to know what adventures he met with since she saw him: But after many sad condolements, he told her (as we knew afterwards from himself, that when he was disguised in Paphlagonia, he writ a Letter unto the Princess Araminta, to ask her whether it were her pleasure he should come and offer himself unto the King her brother, who was then beginning the Cappadocian war, and that in lieu of receiving such an answer as he expected he had received from the Princess, the most cruel Letter in the world, and such a one as made him amazed to see it: And as the princess Aristea told him, that without all manner of question there had been some cheat put upon him, he pulled out those two Letters which he always kept about him ever since he received them, and showing them unto her, she found them to this effect.  
ARAMINTA unto SPITRIDATES.  
Come not hither to offer yourself unto the King my brother, but rather seek out for yourself a Sanctuary, in some place of the world so far from me, that you may forget, even the very name of  
ARAMINTA.  
Oh brother (cried out the Princess Aristea) my eyes tell me, that the princess Araminta writ this Letter, but my reason assures me, that she never thought it: Afterwards, without staying for Spitridates his answer, she opened the other, and found these words.  
HESIONIDA unto the Prince SPITRIDATES.  
IT grieves me to tell you, that Glory is above all things predominate in the heart of the Princess: and she it so peremptorily resolved to obey the King, to quench her affection unto you, and to forget it, that no arguments under Heaven can alter her. Conform therefore your mind unto your fortune if you can; and since you are generous, strive to forget her who is absolutely resolved never to remember you.  
HESIONIDA.  
I leave it unto your imagination (said the Prince Spitridates, as soon as the Princess his Sister had done reading these two Letters) what I apprehended, after I received what now you have read: I do easily imagine, said she, but since I am certain that some or other has put a trick upon you, I am not surprised at it: for truly, said she, as long as the Cappadocian war lasted, I continually received intelligence from the Princess Araminta, as I was wont to do: she always enquired concerning you with extreme care, she has secretly done us an hundred good offices: and until the time she was taken away by Artanus, we ever held a good correspondency together; especially since the war began between my Father, and the King of Pontus. Moreover, when the Illustrious Artamenes came into Bythinia; and when we thought it had been you, who returned thither, she expressed abundance of joy, when I did intimate it unto her by a Letter, and I am certain that she was as sad when we acquainted her with our mistake: But, said she, I must compare this pretended Letter from the Princess Araminta with some which I have; and saying so, she opened a Cabinet which was upon the Table in her Closet, and taking several Letters out, she set herself to observe them very exactly: and she found much difference in many Charactars': At the first sight all the world might have been deceived; but none could be so deluded that saw the false Letter compared with the true one. Spitridates was so overjoyed at his hopes of being deceived, that for a quarter of an hour he could hardly persuade himself that it was a cheat, but seemed to doubt of it, to the end he might move Aristea to give him mine assurance of it, and to have a pretence to look longer upon the great difference between th● hands. But how may it be imagined, said Spitridates, this cheat should come about? Pharnaces was out a man likely to do it: No, said the Princess, but Artanus may probably be such a knave: and indeed Sir, (as we afterwards came to know) it was he, who having discovered that Spitridates had sent unto Heraclea by that Captain of the Tower, wherein he was a prisoner, caused this man who had the true answer from the Princess, and me, to be followed, his Letters were taken from him, and carried unto a man, who was excellent at imitating of hands, to be counterfeited; It happened, for the favour of his cheat, that this man who had the Letters, was brought up in the house of Artanus his father, unknown unto Spitridates, so that knowing him to be the Son of his old Master, he was easily suborned to carry the counterfeited Letters of Artanus, which caused less knavery to be suspected. That which moved Artanus unto this, was because he hoped the great courage of Pharnaces would cause him to be killed in this war, and then if he could but send Spitridates far enough, he himself should then be the only man of quality in all the Kingdom, which could pretend unto the Princess. After that Spitridates was well confirmed in his belief of being deceived, he related with a far more calm mind then before, the despair which he was in, and how he resolved to seek out a death somewhere so far off the Princess, that she should never hear any more news of him: How in this sad design, he went unto that Port which was nearest, and to imbarck in the first Ship which put to Sail without so much as ask whither it went: How by chance it was a Merchant's Ship of Tenedos which took him in: How from thence he went to Ephesus, because reports went that Croessus would assault it: How he was in all that war, and yet could not meet with death, although he did sufficiently expose himself unto all dangers: How remembering himself, that if he would follow the ambition of Arsamones, rather than the love of the Princess Araminta, he might be a King: and that he preferred the Fetters of Araminta, before the Crown of Bythinia, he caused to be painted upon his Buckler, a Slave, who refused Crowns, and made choice of Chains, as I already told you: How after the conclusion of that war, he embarked again for Cyprus, hoping that Island which was consecrated unto the Mother of Love, would be more propitious unto him, than any other; but conceiving that journey too pleasant for an unfortunate man, he passed into Cicilie: afterwards, not being able to stay in any place, he would needs put to Sea gain, had he not met with a Persian Magis, who being new come ashore, did render him all imaginable honour; speaking an hundred things in a language which he understood not: An Interpreter which he carried with him for the conveniency of his travel, told Spitridates how this man was a Persian, who took him to be the Son of his King, whom Merchants had reported to be drowned at Chalcedonia: Spitridates hearing this, answered him by the Interpreter, that he was not a Persian: that it was very true it was supposed he was drowned at Chalcedonia, but he was not: But whatsoever this Interpreter said, this Persian would not be persuaded but all that Spitridates said was but excuses. In conclusion, Sir, he was so importunate with Spitridates, to confess that which he was ignorant of, as he was forced to leave him: But this man going un●o the Magistrate of the Town, told him that the King his Master, had lost his only Son, and Successor unto his Dominions, who for some concealed reasons, would not return into his Country: and how that by chance he had met with him, that he was in this Town, and ready to embark away. He conjured the Magistrate to arrest him, and to send him back unto the King his Father: so that this Magistrate finding the Persian of a grave Phisaognomi●, and had acquaintance with the greatest and wisest men in the Town, sent Orders to stop Spitridates, as being Son to the King of Persia, and to treat him with all respect as befiting his quality: you may easily imagine that this Prince was extremely amazed at it; he used all his arguments to undeceive these men, but the more he denied, the more this Persian maintained that he was Cyrus.  
In conclusion, the Magistrate sent both Spitridates and this Persian unto the Prince of the place, who after he had heard them both, and fearing to commit an error, did send them both unto the King of Persia, and made choice of a man of a good ingenuity and quality for this employment, and say what Spitridates could, he was sent away with a great number of soldiers: I shall omit the relation of his melancholy during so long a voyage, during all which time he was guarded very vigilantly: I shall only acquaint you, that the Persian Magis died during this voyage: and being come into Persia, where the Ambassador which went with them, heard that all the people believed Cyrus to be dead; and that the Merchants saw him drowned, he began to believe Spitridates, conceiving he had no reason to conceal his being the Son of a King; as really he was so: But so it happened that this Ambassador fell sick as well as the Magis, and died for company: so that Spitridates was now at more liberty, and stole away from this Ambassadors men, when they were in the height of their mourning: but yet notwithstanding, he was often in danger to be stopped by several others who took him to be you Sir: And since he was resolved to draw nearer the place where we were, that he might hear in what part of the world his Princess was, he passed out of Persia, into Medea, where he was also followed divers times, not knowing the reason why: Afterwards being come as far as the Frontiers of Galatia, there he heard of the Bythinian Rebellion, and of the War which the King his Father had declared against the King of Pontus; also he did afterwards tell the Princess Aristea, that this news did so cruelly perplex him, as he fell so extremely sick upon it, that never man was more violently tormented: for hearing every day a relation of his Father's victories, and also of Prince Euriclides his death, he conceived this to be the worst way to regain the opinion of the Princess Araminta: not that he wished the King his Father were vanquished, but that he himself knew not what to wish. In conclusion (said he unto the Princess Aristea,) You see me here, dear Sister, well recovered of my sickness, against my will, and desiring your advice, what course I shall take: for though my Princess should be perfidious unto me, yet would I deliver her out of the hands of Artanus, where I understand she is. That is not an easy matter for you to do, said she unto him, unless it be with the King's forces: and the sooner to induce him to see you, it is requisite you seem as if you did not love that Princess: Ha, my dear Sister, said he, I cannot counterfeit, not know I how to owe my good fortune unto a lie. But alas, said he, what might my Princess think of my silence during all these great alterations? Perhaps she imagines that I lurk quietly till the wars be ended, that I afterwards would peaceably enjoy the fruits of the victory: but my Divine Princess, how unjust would you be in such a thought? Well Sir, after many such like complaints and lamentations as these. Spitridates' retired himself unto the place where he was to lodge: And Aristea told him before he left her, that the Prince Intaphernes, the Son of Gadates, who is now in the Army of Ciaxares, had done great services unto the King his Father: and that the Princess Istrina his Sister, came unto the Queen Arbiana, presently after the Queen Nitocris died, who desired it should be so: After this, Spitridates went away, and the next morning the Queen and princess sent unto him, with advice to keep himself close, until he heard from them, and that they were going unto the Camp where Arsamones was sick: and since the Army was not above one days journey from Heraclea, they should be there that same night: But since they found Arsomones very ill, it was the next day in the morning, before they could acquaint him how they had received some news of Spitridates, but they did not tell him he was come, because they would not expose him unto any danger: Arsamones was much surprised at the news and discourse of Arbiana, and the Princess Aristea observed both astonishment and anger in his face: yet notwithstanding his angry and tumultuous thoughts, she perceived some signs of joy mixed with them: And indeed since Arsamones had no other Son, though he had some resentments of displeasure against him, in respect of the King of Pont, yet was he very glad and desirous to see him that was to be his Successor: Therefore after he had paused a while, If Spitridates (said he unto the Queen his wife) return with the mind of a sl●ve, as he had when he broke out of prison, it is but fit he should be fettered again; but if he return with such a mind as becomes a King, it is fit he should be treated like such a Prince as hereafter he may be. Therefore Madam, said he unto the Queen, let him know, if you please, that he himself is the arbitrator of his own destiny: and if he have a mind to finish this war, which I have so prosperously begun, and bring the Princess Araminta into my hands as my Prisoner, I shall entertain him, and give him the Command of my Army: But if he think to return, and continue his affection unto her, whom he ought to look upon as the Daughter and Sister of our Tyrants, I shall let him see that I am Master of two Crowns which I have conquered, and can bestow them upon whom I please: He has been long enough absent, said he, to forget his passion; therefore, (said he, and looked upon the Princess Aristea) I give you a Commission to dive into the secrets of his heart and discover his real thoughts: for I perceive you know more than yet you tell me, and perhaps he is already in Heracl●a: Arbiana would have denied it; but it was after such a manner, that she more increased the King's belief, so that he said unto them, No, no, i● Spitridates be wise, let him not fear anything: therefore if he be returned, as I believe he is, return you into Heraclea, said he unto the Princess his daughter, and if you find him such a one as I say, then bring him hither; but if he be not, I permit him to return unto his exile again: yet I say, if he become with intentions of good fortune unto me, and himself, let him come hither in all haste, because I would then employ him, since I am not well myself, against Cabira, and give Artanus no longer time to fortify it, and himself in it: The Queen hearing him say so, confessed the truth: and the next morning the Princess returned unto Heraclea, with private instructions from the queen, to desire Spitridates that he would dissemble his love; and to tell him, that when Araminta is under ●he power of Arsamones, she would intercede, and keep him from any rigorous treating of her: and that perhaps the rare merits of that Princess would in conclusion win Arsamones to favour her: and that to conclude all in one word, he must necessarily force himself, and disguiz● his thoughts for a time. The Princess did negotiate with him very handsomely: for as soon as she came to Heraclea, she sent to Spitridates, and used all possible arguments expedient for the business: But when she found that he could not resolve upon a dissimulation, What do you intent to do then, (said she unto him) the Princess Araminta is under the hands of Artanus, where I believe she is in a wor●e condition than she would be under the dispose of my Father, and in Heraclea, where I might be serviceable unto her. Ah, dear Sister, said he, my soul is balanced betwixt two great extremes: I do know very well that it is my duty to get Araminta ou● of the power of Artanus, but I know also, that it does not become me to release her, that she may be again a prisoner: Of two evils the least is to be chosen, replied the Princess, and as I conceive there is no comparison betwixt these two. Spitridates was then a long while silent, contemplating whether there was not a middle way between these two to be taken: but the more he thought upon it, the further was he from finding it: gladly would he have preserved his respects unto the King his Father; he wished he were out of this vexing necessity of disguising his real thoughts: he did most earnestly desire that the Kingdom of Pontus were restored unto him who lost it, and keeping only the Kingdom of Bythinia, he might marry the Princess Araminta, and so place her upon the Throne hereafter: But yet he knew well enough that Arsamones would never consent unto such propositions; so that not knowing what course to take he was extremely perplexed. Yet when he b● thought himself that Artanus had the power to pesecute the princess, Well, my dear Sister, said he unto her, I am too long in deliberating: and since I know that Araminta is in the power of m● Rival, it is too much to consider upon one minute longer: Come then, let us go unto the King, and tell him, since he will needs have it so, that I am not at all in love; let us transact like an enemy, that I may hereafter appear a most real Lover: and let us not think it a dishonour to tell an innocent lie, and to assume that disguise which I would never undertake, but to set the most glorious Princess in the world at liberty. After much such discourse as this, Spitridates promised the Princess Aristea, to carry the matter towards the King, as she desired: so that without any loss of time both of them went to Court the next morning, and would not admit of any visits in Heraclea until he had seen the King: when they were come unto the Camp, they understood that this news had so much troubled Arsamones, as he was worse than he was before; and since the departure of the Princess he expressed much impatiency of seeing Spitridates. He was no sooner arrived, but it was told the King, who commanded him to enter presently, and notwithstanding his sickness, he received him with many testimonies of tenderness: But after the first passion, whereof he was not Master, he assumed a more serious and severe countenance: Spitridates, said he unto him, I must tell you, that if it be the pleasure of the Gods to dispose of me, I would not have you to hold any Treaty, or contract any alliance with those unto whom we have been Slaves: And if you do, I do dispense with all my Subjects, from acknowledging you as their Prince: Sir (said Spitridates unto him, and bow●d) Doubtless the Gods will permit you to enjoy your Conquests long, and I shall have leisure enough hereafter to understand your intentions more precisely: Therefore it will suffice, if you will be pleased, to grace me so far as to tell me what service I shall do you for the present, as I am your Subject: without any further discourse of what I ought to do when I am King, as yet I am not: It is my intentions, answered the King, that if my sickness continue, you shall command my Army: That you march against Artanus, and reduce Araminta into my power. Spitridates did then bethink himself of some words which would admit of an ambiguous sense, which might both satisfy the Nicety of his Love, and might make the King believe that he would punctually obey him: and indeed, he did hit of it so handsomely, that the King was satisfied with his answer, and embraced him: after which being retired unto a very magnificent Tent which was prepared for him, he was visited by Intaphernes, and all the Officers of the Army; for we were informed of all these passages afterwards from Spitridates' himself: within three days after, the Physicians told Arsamones, that there was no danger in his disease, but yet i● would continue long: so that not to lose time, he gave Orders unto Spitridates to go, and besiege Artanus: yet appointing one of his Lieutenant Generals to have an observant eye upon 〈◊〉 the actions of this Prince: Then went Arsamones with the Queen, and the Princess his daughter unto Heraclea; as for the Princess Istrina, she was there before: So Spitridates departed for Cabira, the Prince Intaphernes being his principal Lieutenant General, with whom he contracted a great League of friendship: You may imagine Sir, how much we were surprised, when we were informed by our faithful Guard, that there arrived a Cavalier at Heraclea, having a Buckler, as I told you before, and afterwards that this Cavalier was Spitridates, and that this Prince was so gracious with the King his Father, that he made him General of his Army: Our wonder for a long time was so great, that our words could not express it: Joy to hear that Spitridates was alive, and the incertainty of his design in coming against Artanus, did so divide the mind of the Princess Araminta, that she knew not whether she should grieve or rejoice: However Madam (said I unto her, when she began to grieve) I cannot choose but be extremely glad to know that Spitridates is living: I have the same resentments, replied she, but however, my soul must needs be in such unquietness, for Arsamones has not altered opinion: and it seems to be almost without all question, that since Spitridates is in such favour with him, they are both of one mind: Oh Madam (said I unto her) censure not before you hear: But yet it is very likely, answered she, that I am not mistaken: a long absence may easily bury all his affection unto me in the grave of oblivion: and he may as easily prefer the enjoyment of two Kingdoms, above a Princess whom he has not a long time seen, and who has nothing but misfortunes to her portion. The truth is, Hesionida, if Spitridates do continue faithful, it is a miracle; and if he do not, then doubtless it is the greatest misfortune that ever could happen unto me: so that not knowing whether I should pray for or against him, whether he will see me at liberty, or take me prisoner, my soul is in a most restless condition. I did all I could to lessen her fears, and fortify her hopes: But to tell you truly, I do believe they both reigned successively in her heart for many days, and she was not well resolved in herself: In the mean while Artanus was something sick upon the business; the very name of Spitridates, and of his return, did cast him into a qualm, nor could all the power of his love cure him: since he had many brave and gallant men with him, they moved him, much against his mind, God knows, to go and meet their enemy, and to hazard a Battle: at the first, he did oppose the motion, but afterwards fearing, that if he should discover his Cowardice, then doubtless they would all forsake him, therefore he consented unto them, and resolved to be there himself: so that all the Regiments being drawn up under the walls of the Town, where we were, he viewed them, and without bidding any adieu unto the Princess, he departed, leaving her under the Guardship of a Captain, who was absolutely his creature: I shall not relate unto you, Sir, all the particulars of this war; only thus much in short, that Spitridates was victor, and the Coward Artanus being much against his will engaged in fight, was mortally wounded by the hand of Spitridates, who took him prisoner, this perfidious wretch living only so long as to confess the counterfeiting of the Princess letter and mine: The shattered part of this defeated Army fell into the Town, and all the Commanders consulted what to do, and resolved to receive their orders from the Princess, hoping thereby to obtain more advantageous conditions by a treaty with Spitridates.  
All the Captains than came unto her chamber, whilst we were altogether ignorant of any passages, because Artanus had taken that guard who was our intelligencer with him, and he was killed in the battle. At the first sight of them she knew not how to interpret their visit; but one of them being Speaker for the rest, said thus unto her; Madam, we are come to beg pardon for our past rebellion, we come to tell you that Artanus has lost the battle and his life, and we come to receive orders from you as the daughter and Sister of our Kings; therefore Madam we beseech you let us know, what is your pleasure we shall do, whether you will render yourself, or whether it is your pleasure we should defend you against the Prince Spitridates; which of these two ways soever you are pleased to command we are ready to obey you. You tell me of so many wonders at once, said she, that I cannot upon a sudden precisely resolve you; but it is most certain that I must take no other part but the King my brothers, and that his enemies are and must be mine, and if they will not do us justice, it will be much more noble to die in defending ourselves, then cowardly to submit: Yet since you are from rebellious subjects become my protectors, I do conjure you to take such orders as are necessary for the preservation of the Town, and not to attempt any thing without my knowledge, and for the present I conceive you have nothing else to do, but to defend yourself if they assault you. Here Sir was a great alteration in our fortune, our guards became almost our slaves, and the prisoners command their keepers: But all this while Spitridates was not without his vexations, amidst all the joys of his victory, since he was not so absolute Master of his Army, that he could do what he would; so that in appearance he must carry himself as a mortal enemy against the Princess, but really as a man who preferred his love unto her above all things else. He sent then to summon the Town, To render itself unto his discretion, after he had surrounded it on all sides, for he could do no otherwise, because that Lieutenant General, who Arsamones did set as an Adjutant with him, was very severe and obstinate. When the Princess heard that Spitridates had sent a messenger, she commanded him to be brought into her presence, and with an incensed spirit said unto him; Tell your Master that the Princesses of Pontus are not used to pay obedience unto the Princess of Bythinia, but rather have been for a long time obeyed, and that I could never have believed that the Sister unto the Prince Sinnesis should have been thus treated withal by Spitridates: and lastly, since he goes so unjustly to work, he may assure himself he shall find it a greater difficulty to overcome the Princess Araminta, than he did in defeating Artanus. After this answer, the Herald departed, and the princess being at liberty to condole with me; Well Hesionida (said she unto me) what do you now think of Spitridates? I think that he is come to release you Madam (said I unto her) and I cannot suspect that he desires to have you in his own power, but in the power of Arsamones: Servitude is not the way to liberty, replied she, and very few Lovers use to release those they love by such extraordinary ways: But Madam, replied I, as the case is, what would you have Spitridates do? I know not, answered she and sighed, but I am sure I would not be brought under the power of him who is the ruiner of my family; yet Hesionida, I have no reason to complain against fortune, but rather give her thanks, since she has done all she can to give me cause of excluding that tenderness which I kept in my heart for Spitridates, because he is son unto the declared enemy of the King my Brother. I should never ●nd Sir, if I should relate all what the Princess said, and all that Spitridates thought upon the return of the Herald; for since he durst not send any obliging message, lest he should render himself suspected, he perceived by her answer that she did not think he dissembled when he transacted with her as an enemy; yet had he some consolation, that the Commanders of Artanus his Army did obey her, and that it was herself only with whom he was to treat; so that changing his opinion, he called a Council of War the next day; where he declared that there was no great honour to be got by forcing a Town which was kept and defended only by a princess, but that it were expedient, first to use all endeavours to reduce it otherwise, before it came to open ●orce; so that to save blood, and the King his father's forces, and also to carry the matter handsomely with a woman, he did resolve to send and desire to speak with her: The Major part of Officers, who began to love Spitridates, principally Intaphernes, did approve of his design, and there was none who did oppose it but that Lieutenant General, of whom I spoke, and he did most violently oppose it, as afterwards we came to know; but do what he could, since the plurality of voices carried it, he was forced to submit, and Spitridates had his desire.  
He sent then the second time unto the Princess by one who was very faithful and trusty, with orders most humbly to beseech her that he might have the honour to speak with her, before he was forced to make any attempts against her; he commanded him to tell her, that he conjured her by the glorious name and memory of the Prince Sinnesis not to deny this favour, and that she would be pleased to believe that he is and ever will be the same Spitridates which once she knew him. This messenger received this order in private, but he spoke in public before all the Captains with less tenderness, and more sharply: Might he have followed the humour of his passion, he would never have thought upon the security of his person, but would have entered into the Town, and not so much as desired her to engage her word; but since he was not absolutely his own Master, and not to render himself suspected by his own party, he beseeched her she would be pleased to come unto one side of the wall, which was not very high, where he might with conveniency speak unto her. These, Sir, were the orders which the Envoy of Spitridates received, whose coming was a great joy unto me, as well as to the Princess, who then began to hope she had been deceived in her opinion of that Prince; yet she was so surprised at his message, that she took two hours time before she would return an answer; and to colour the matter, she assembled all the Officers into a Council, though it was with me resolved upon what course to follow; I saw some joy in her eyes, which spoke her hopes that this Prince was not so culpable as she believed him; and I perceived also that she was restless, and knew not whether she should see him, or not see him: Seeing her in this anxiety, I told her she was too blame in making any doubt of the matter: Ah, Hesionida, replied she, It is not so easy a matter to determine, for if Spitridates come as an ambitious Prince, who prefers the possession of two Crowns before me, I ought not to see him, since it would be to no purpose: But if on the contrary he be the same he was, yet ought I not to see him, since it is impossible I should be the same to him I have been heretofore; and the state of things being changed, I ought to change my thoughts also? therefore Hesionida, I must in reason conclude, that it is not expedient for me to see him; yet notwithstanding if they counsel me to see him, than I will, and if I find him innocent I shall not hate him: If he be innocent, Madam, (said I unto her) you would be very unjust to withdraw your affection from him, and which way soever I look upon the business, I find it expedient for you to see him, for though he be your enemy, yet as the case is with you now, you must have recourse unto his clemency; and if he be your lover and adorer, then ought you to accept his services, and rely upon his generosity and love: The truth is, Sir, I found it no great difficulty to persuade the Princess unto a parley with him; but since my expectations from this interview were very great, so it might be in such a place where they might speak together with freedom, I told the Princess, that it would be much better if she met Spitridates upon the middle of the Bridge, which stands over that river that runs under the walls of the Town. After the Princess had well consulted, and since all the Officers could not foresee any happy issue of this siege, but by some advantageous capitulation, and also since they saw no hopes of any relief, they advised her to see Spitridates, and she caused him whom the Prince had sent to come unto her, to tell him that she consented unto the desire of his Master, commanding one of her Captains to show him the place where she desired this meeting might be the next morning, and also to instruct him in such orders as should be observed, and during which time there should be a cessation of all hostility. After this messenger had viewed the Bridge, and returned to his Master, who approved of the alteration of place, the rest of the day and night following was employed in preparations for this interview, and making the place fit, which indeed was a most glorious sight: As the river was great, the Bridge over it was also very large and stately, so that it contributed much unto the magnificence of this business; for just over the middle Arch were Lists made ready, and covered with rich Sidonian Tapestry; over the head was a rich and stately Pavilion, trussed up on two sides with golden strings, or to let down if the Sun did offend; so that the next morning Spitridates, who was all joy, in hopes to see the princess, did not sail of his time, after he had drawn up all his forces into Battalions, in sight of the Town, and caused five hundred foot, and two hundred horse only to advance with him to the end of the Bridg. The princess on the other side commanded, that all the walls should be well lined with soldiers, and with the like number of horse and foot came to the other end of the Bridge: She no sooner knew that Spitridates was come, but she prepared to meet him, and that so fair, as I was astonished at the mixture of so much melancholy, and so much beauty together: Since the Sun was not likely to annoy, I moved her women to dress her as she was used when she went to hunt at Heraclea, which was with a waving Plume over her head, to cast a shadow upon her face. The Princess being thus dressed, went unto the end of the Bridge, and waited upon by all her women, and Commanders in her Army: as soon as she appeared, Spitridates advanced, being waited upon by the like number; The princess came to the Bars, and went under the pavilion, under which we were also, but at a distance behind her: Spitridates did wear the loveliest Suit of Arms upon earth, and in spite of his melancholy, his garb was so high, and his Air so sprightly and delighting, that I never saw him more glorious than that day; as soon as he espied the Princess afar off he saluted her with much reverence, and both of them meeting at the Bars at the same time, all the men of both sides remaining under their Colours and Arms, Spitridates did bow down to the very ground, and she returned him her compliment very civilly: Afterwards, beginning discourse, When I sent unto you Madam, (said he unto her) to beg the honour of treating with you, I never had any intentions of coming to capitulate with you, but in all humility I come to receive your commands, and to render you an account of a tedious Exile, of my return, and of what I do at this present: Indeed, Divine Princess, if the actions of the King my Father, have not rendered me unworthy of your ear, I am come to give you an account of my life past, and to hear from your own mouth what it must be for the future: Since I hear you say so, (answered the Princess) I begin to think you are the very same Spitridates whom the late King my Father made choice of, for his alliance; who was so well beloved by the Prince Si●●esis, and so really esteemed by the unfortunate Araminta; I begin to think, I say, that you are the same Spitridates, who for the love of me endured two imprisonments, with high generosity, and who expressed an hundred signs of a most constant affection: But yet when I look upon this Bar, and all these Soldiers about you, than I do confess, me thinks, you do not look like the same Spitridates I speak of: but I look upon you as the Son of Arsamones: that is, a mortal enemy to the King my Brother.  
Oh Madam, cried he out, if it be your pleasure to know what I am, I beseech you hear; and look not upon that which may seduce your reason, and may make me pass in your opinion for what I am not: I do confess, Madam, that if I did not infinitely and beyond all expressions love you, I should think my father had some reason to take possession of that Crown which was surreptitiously taken from off his head: yet since he cannot do it but by the ruin of your house, I shall look upon him (in spite of all considerations of ambition or nature) as an Usurper of his own Kingdom; and all this because my love to you has taken the whole possession of my heart. You know, said the Princess unto him, that Arsamones is not content with his own, but the Kingdom of Pont is now in his hands as well as the Kingdom of Bythinia: so that though his war were just in the getting of the one, yet it was most unjust in the getting of the other: I do confess it, Madam, said he unto her, but if it may be permitted a Lover, to speak something in excuse of his father, I should then say, that since ambition and revenge nevernse to keep within those limits which reasou and justice prescribe unto them; it is no wonder if an injured and an ambitious Prince do not act altogether according to the rules of natural equity: But Madam, loving you as I do, I will never approve of the act: I confess also that the King my Father is injurious; that he deserves the name of a cruel enemy, and that I am the son of an Usurper: But Madam, you may remember, if you please, that when I began first to adore you, you were then, if I dare say it, in the same condition which I am now, and I then as you are now; for as the King my Father has taken the Kingdom of Pontus from your house, so likewise your Father held the Kingdom of Bythinia from mine: yet for all that, Madam, I shall love and adore you, and though you be the daughter of an Usurper, (be it spoken without any irreverence unto that honour I owe you) yet I do for ever devote myself unto your service. I do wish unto the Gods with all the desires of my soul, that the state of things did stand upon the same terms they did: that I were still a Subject unto your Brother; and that it were then permitted me to hope for the same which now I do. Your very long absence, replied the Princess, did doubtless work some change in your mind, otherwise your banishment, notwithstanding my enjoining it, would not have been so long; when Spitridates heard her make that objection, he then told in short, the cause of his departure from Paphlagonia: the cheat of Artanus: his despair when he believed her perfidious; his voyages, his return, and his extreme sorrows to bear of all the victories which his Father had obtained, and that she was in the power of his Rival: And now Madam, (said he unto her, at the conclusion of his relation) you know not what the life of unfortunate Spitridates hath been: he loved ever, even when the King your Father detained that Kingdom unto which he 〈…〉 pretend for a share, and he adored you even then when he believed you to be 〈…〉 lamented all his father's victories; he grieved at the Cor quest of two Kingdoms 〈…〉 preferred the condition of your Slave, before the glorious Title of a King; and 〈…〉 and ever will adore you, be you unjust, or as incensed as you will against him: 〈…〉 devoted unto you, that there is nothing which he will not attempt for you: Yes 〈…〉 you should command me any thing but to turn my Arms against the King my Father, 〈…〉 do it: and truly if you should be so unjust as to command that, I know not whether 〈…〉 ●●e were able to stand out long or no: Now, after all this Madam, can you believe 〈…〉 ●e? I took up Arms, 'tis true, but it was only to kill Arta●us, and force you out of 〈…〉 I carry them still I confess: but how could I have come to have known your pleasu 〈…〉 I had seemed your enemy? Therefore Madam, since I am only unfortunate, and not 〈…〉 pable, you would be most unjust if you should change your opinion of me. Though you 〈…〉 lie persuaded me of your innocency, replied the Princess, yet are you not nearer 〈…〉ness: for truly, Spitridates, true generosity will never allow me, to preserve so pu 〈…〉 ction as that which I retain for you, since you are son unto a declared enemy of the King 〈…〉 Brother: for consider, I pray you, in what a deplorable condition is that Prince, 〈…〉 flourishing Kingdoms which once he had, has not but one poor Ship in his power, and 〈…〉 more in the power of unconstant winds and waves, then in his own; and would 〈…〉 me Spitridates to surrender myself without any conditions? and can you think 〈…〉 Arsamones would consent) sit upon that Throne which belongs not to me, whil 〈…〉 my Brother who his most right unto it, is tossed upon the waves, and languishing 〈…〉ble exile? Oh, no no, I never will, and if you think it, you esteem me but a little 〈…〉 me not at all: I have esteemed you, I do confess, and do still very much: and if 〈…〉 too weak to express, think upon one more obliging for your satisfaction, and 〈…〉 unto it: but yet for all that, though my heart be the same unto you, that it was 〈…〉 yet I cannot comply with you, but as with the Son of mine enemy; therefore Spitri 〈…〉 these two things must necessarily be done; either move the King your Father to con 〈…〉 self with the Kingdom of Bythinia, and restore the Kingdom of Pontus, or else you resolve never to have this place but by violence and force, or at the least, upon such Capi●ulations, as shall permit me to go whither I shall hear the King my Brother is: for I do peremptorily declare myself, that you shall never put me into the hands of Arsamones, and there is nothing which I will leave unattempted, rather than I will submit unto that: I know very well that the Queen Arbiana, and the Princess Aristea would protect me: but I know withal, that all Asia would suspect me for either treachery, or weakness, which I am not capable of: therefore Spitridates never endeavour to make me change my thoughts, for it will be absolutely in vain: and if there be any memory of the Prince Sinnesis yet remaining in you, promise me that you will never bring me under the power of Arsamones, if fortune should reduce me into yours. I will promise you any thing, Madam, replied he, upon condition you will promise me not to hate Spitridates, if he be not able to compass all your desires. The Gods do know, that if I were absolute Master of two Kingdoms, you, and only you, should be the sole disposer of them: and I should without the least murmur consent unto the loss of the Bythinian Crown once again, rather than I would in the least displease you. But alas, Madam, they are not in my power, the King my Father is in possession, and all I can do is to employ the Queen my mother, and the Princess my Sister to persuade him: for my part, if I should quit the Army, I should then fear he would not permit me to return, and so I should disable myself from being inseparably devoted unto your fortunes, as my intentions are: But Madam, dare I be so bold as to tell you, that if Spitridates were as deeply rooted in your heart as he might be, you would not transact thus with him? You would then leave the conduct of things unto the Gods, and wait their happy time for the re-establishment of the King your Brother: nor would you then reject a Prince who for you has suffered prisons, banishments, and all imaginable miseries; and who may hereafter make you change a prison for a Throne, and bring you into a condition to give a Crown unto the King of Pontus: Not Madam, but that I am resolved to obey you most exactly, but because I foresee into what a miserable extremity I shall be reduced. I do not intend to impose any possibilities upon you, replied the Princess, something more mildly, and therefore, if you cannot obtain these my desires, I shall surrender up the Town, upon condition that I may be conducted unto what place I shall choose to go unto: and if that cannot be obtained, then assure yourself I will bury myself under the ruins of the Ramparts, whilst you enjoy the pleasant fruits of your father's Conquests, and making love submit unto ambition, by forgetting the Princess Araminta, you become as happy as I am miserable. Ah cruel Lady, said he unto her, I shall make it appear that I am not capable of any such thoughts: No, no, Madam, you shall never see Spuridates happy as long as you are miserable; nor will he ever be a King, until you be in a con●●tion to be a Queen, and this I solemnly protest before the Gods who hear me: But I beseech you, Madam, promise me this at the least, that when I have abandoned all the world for you, you w●ll be pleased to let me follow and participate of your destinies, and that I may never leave you. The Princess was so moved at the expressions of Spi 〈…〉 es, that she repented herself that she had in perplexed him; I will believe, said she unto him, that all your thoughts are generous, and I will promise you, not to suspect your fidelity: and be persuaded of this, that though I act as your enemy in many things, yet you shall be still the same in my heart that ever you were: yet for all this, I must tell you, that in all likelihood we shall not agree. Oh Madam, said he, that language is so cruel, as it moves me to part with my life, and so neither take your part, nor turn Arms against them I command: I am not of so violent a temper as you, replied she; and as I do not intend to do any thing unworthy of myself, so I do not expect or desire any thing from you, which shall be dishonourable for you: Therefore without any more unprofitable complaints, said she, and sighed, I advice you to go back, Spitridates, and endeavour to induce Arsamones unto some reason: let those whom you employ, tell him, that the best expedient to preserveth Kingdom of Bythinia, (which is his right) in peace; is to restore the Kingdom of Pontus, which is not his right: Go Spitridates, and transact with all your ingenuity, both for your satisfaction, and mine: And if you cannot induce Arfammes unto it, yet yet however remember that you preserve my liber●●, if you desire to preserve your life.  
Spitridates was so troubled at these words, as he hardly knew now ●o ●n●wer: Why Madam, said he; would you have me leave you? Because it is not convenient, answered she: And let me tell you once more Spitridates, because I desire to die in liberty: And let me tell you once again Madam, said he, and interrupted her, That I desire to die your slave. I is not for those who are happy, replied she, to desire death: Nor is it for those who are unfortunate, said he, to desire life; and therefore Madam, if I cannot alter either the mind of the King my fathers, or yours, though I should set you at liberty, yet should I expect nothing but my grave: Since your life is and ever shall be, most dear unto me, answered she, I desire you should preserve it: But Spitridates once wore I advise you to retire, and tell your Captains that which I shall tell mine, which is, that you cannot give an answer unto my Propositions, before you have sent unto the King your father: Your wits are at so much liberty Madam, replied he, that I perceive your heart is not over-deeply engaged: Since you have so great a soul, replied she, this answer is not becoming you, but Spitridates, I will pardon you, and wish you would not think as you seem to do of me: In saying so, she bowed unto him, and went away, agreeing first, that there should be a cessation of Arms, until the answer of Arsamones was received; for my part I never saw a more lamentable parting, Spitridates was as pale as if death were in his face; the Princess for all her high soul, seemed so dejected at that instant, as it might well have been a cordial unto the Prince, had he been able to have discerned the sadness of her eyes. He looked after her as long as he could, but so Planet-struck, that he knew not what he saw: When the Princess was gone ten or twelve paces from the Bar, I stepped to him: Sir, said I, Fortune offers you a good occasion to use your generosity: Fortune, answered he, may be more propitious unto me in the favour of Hesionida, who may do me many good offices to the Princess Araminta: I shall do all I can Sir, said she, and retired, but in the mean time do you all you can. This was spoke so low and quickly, that none could hear or take any notice of it: And presently after we went back to the Town, in which we no sooner were, but Spitridates, since he could not see the Princess any longer, took horse, and retired to his company: He told what she appointed him unto his Officers, and not to lose any time, he made choice of one Democlides to send unto Arsamones. This man was one of an excellent wit, and who loved the prince extremely, so that he could not make a better choice; and that he might the better understand all his thoughts, he related all the passages of his life unto him: He gave him a Letter unto the Princess his Mother, and another unto the Princess his Sister: He writ also unto the King his father withal imaginable submission, he forget nothing, which might probable induce him to be contented with the Reconquest of his own Kingdom, with the usurpation upon the Kingdom of another: He instructed Democlides with all the subtle and politic Maxims expedient for his negotiation, and to persuade Arsamones, that it were better to possess one Kingdom in peace, then to have two upon terms of war. Whilst Spitridates was dispatching this Captain, the Princess was exceedingly grieved, and almost wished that she had not spoken unto him in so obliging a manner: Sometimes again, she was very glad she was not deceived in her choice, and that she had no cause to repent herself for loving Spitridates; but yet these moments of consolation were very rarey for when she considered the present condition of her fortune, and looked upon the future, she found so many sad objects of sorrow, that all hopes were as far from her soul, as from the princes, who since the departure of Democlides was full of unquiet thoughts and fears, not to obtain any thing from Arsamones; and indeed his apprehensions were not without cause, for all the persuasive arguments which the Queen and Princess could use, would not move the new King of Bythinia: This excellent Princess employed all those who had most prevalency with him, but all in vain. Democlides used all his politic arguments wherewith he was instructed, but could not persuade more than the rest; the tears of the Princess Aristea would not move him; but he answered them that moved him, generously to restore the Kingdom of Pontus unto them it belonged, that when he and his had enjoyed the Crown of Pontus as long as the Father and the Grandfather of this King had enjoyed the Kingdom of Bythinia, then perhaps there would be some justice in the restitution demanded: I have (said he) gotten it by more legitimate and honourable ways, than they usurped ours; and it is but just, that they who have thus long fettered others, should take their turn, and bear those fetters themselves, that they may experimentally know the miseries of servitude; and therefore it is my positive pleasure, that Spitridates assist me in taking this Town wherein the Princess Araminta is, otherwise I shall let him know, that he who has not the heart and courage of a King, shall never be my Successor; but treating him as a Slave, I will cast him into prison with the Princess Araminta, whom he loves above his own honour: Democlides, according to the instructions of Spitridates, did put him in memory of what he said unto the Prince his son, in the ship as they departed from Heraclea, how he then said he would not oppose his marriage with this Princess: I remember it very well, said he, but when I said so, it was with this condition, that he should go in the head of an Army to conquer two Kingdoms, and save me that labour; but since he has not performed the condition, tell him, that as it was then dishonourable for the Princess Araminta to marry the son of a Slave, so now at this time it is a shame for him to marry a Sister of a conquered usurper, and the slave of Arsamones, as e'er long she shall be; therefore tell him from me, that within these few days I will come unto the Camp myself; and because it will grieve him too much to captivate her whom he values above two Crowns, let him attempt nothing against Cabira until I come myself, bid him endeavour to overcome himself, or otherwise he shall know the difference between a Sceptre and a prison. You may imagine Sir, how sadly Democlides carried this answer. The Queen did write unto the prince her son to comfort him, the princess Aristea did the like; But oh heavens, how in vain were all consolations? Democlides understood at his coming away from Heraclea, that Arsamones sent orders unto the Lieutenant General his Confident, that he should keep a vigilant eye upon Spitridates; and I understood afterwards by this Democlides, that the despair of Spitridates was so great when he received this rigid answer from the King his father, as it was likely to have cost him his life; yet was he very desirous of the whole truth; and though Democlides had a desire to have sweetened the answer in the relation, yet he durst not, because the King did speak it so publicly before all the world, that Spitridates would certainly have known it by others, and then he had just cause of complaint against Democlides for concealing the truth, since it was that answer upon which he intended to ground all his resolutions. What (said he, after he had understood it) does the King my father intend that the princess Araminta shall be his slave? and that she who deserves a hundred Crowns, shall wear fetters? No, no, Spitridates cannot suffer it, or at the least will attempt all ways possible to release this incomparable and unfortunate princess. Do you not admire Democlides, said he, at the strange blindness of men? The King my Father has all his life complained against Usurpers, and now he is become one himself purposely to make me unhappy; he, who if he please, may get unto himself immortal glory, and make me the happiest man alive, whereas now he makes me the most miserable. For Democlides to have got two Kingdoms, and to keep that only which he hath a right unto; and generously to restore the other, and then to bestow the Princess Araminta upon me, these would be things which all after ages would speak on with admiration; yet since he will not, indeed he will force me to forsake his interests, though he be my Father, and my King: I must absolutely disobey him, and be all the rest of my life the most miserable Prince upon earth: But the greatest wonder is, Sir, that though ambition could never prevail against his love, yet his ●ve did never excessively transport him against the King his Father: But maugre the violence of all his sorrows, he began to contrive ways of releasing the Princess, especially since he newly received intelligence from the Princess Aristea his Sister, that the King would be in the Army within these few days. He also perceived, that the Orders unto the Lieutenant General were very vigilantly observed: but do what he could, Spitridates was so adored by the Commanders, and Soldiers, that he could not bring about his design. To be short, Spitridates did publicly send unto the Princess, to tell her, that the King his Father had not yet returned an answer unto her propositions, and that within a few days he would come himself, and bring the answer. Mean while, after he had consulted with Democlides how to release the Princess, he commanded him to get into the Town diguised like a Peasant, which during the cessation was no great difficulty: and that he should go unto the Castle, and inquire for me, which accordingly he did: He delivered a Note unto me from Spitridates; the contents whereof was, That I should give credit unto what Democlides should tell me: so then, after he had delivered it unto me in private, he acquainted me with the ill success of his voyage, with the despair of Spitridates, and his resolution to release the Princess, with the orders that he had taken about it: he told me further, that the Troops which were under his particular Command, were quartered all along the River side; That our best course would be to come out of the Town in the night by boat, and unto that place where his Troops would wait for us, and be our convoy unto Sea, which was not above fifty furlongs further, and that he had taken order for a Ship at the next Port: he t●ld me further, that to move the Princess the more to trust herself with him, Spitridates would first let her see, he trusted her; therefore, said he, if the Princess please to give orders for one of the Gates which she shall name unto me, to let him enter, he will be there at midnight with one page only, and no more. You may be sure, Sir, that I went in all possible haste unto the Princess, and carried Democlides with me. Though the news was but a subject of astonishment and sorrow, yet to what purpose is complaints where there is no remedy? and therefore it was resolved upon to depart the very next night. Since all her women, were placed about her by Artanus, we cared not for carrying them with us: and since all her Captains had once been her enemies, she hardly knew whether she should trust any of them, but since they had testified much affection unto her, since the death of Artanus, she was unwilling to abandon them, and leave them in the lurch unto the victory of her enemies; yet upon more consideration she conceived it best not to carry any of them with her, and that the Officers being Masters of the Town, they might make honourable conditions for themselves when they pleased: Therefore the resolution was to confide in none of them, but such as were necessary for the business; to wit, that Spitridates might enter, and we go out; But, Sir, I have already so trespassed upon your patience by the length of my relation, as I must tell you in short, that I took such order with two Captains, as they were wholly devoted to serve the Princess in any thing whatsoever. About midnight, Spitridates stole undiscerned out of the Army, after he had left one Letter for Arsamones, and another for the Princess Aristea, and entered into the Town; Democlides conducted him unto the Princess Chamber: and kneeling down, Madam, (said he unto her) are you so generous as to suffer the son of your enemy to throw himself at your feet? and will you be pleased to receive your liberty from that Prince whose Father would make you a Slave? Liberty (said she unto him, and first desired him to rise) is so secret, that one would take it from their most mortal enemy; but Spitridates, it is not just I should purchase mine with the loss of yours: It is enough for me to escape out of the tyranny of your Father, without engaging you to share in my misfortunes: Therefore, do not charge yourself with my escape; seem to be sorry for it; return unto the Camp, and live happily whilst I seek out some blind corner of the world to hide my tears, and my misfortunes in. Can you Madam, give such counsel unto a man whom you have promised to honour with your esteem? And indeed, how esteem him if he should be so unworthy as to take it? No, no, Divine Princess, either you care not what you say, or else you say this only to make trial of my constancy: But since we have no time to spend, I beseech you, Madam, let us depart, and when we have once taken Ship, then may you command what course we shall steer: as for my part, I am resolved to wait upon you over all the world: The Princess did a while refuse it, though it was but in appearance: at last, I interceded, and said unto her, I beseech you determine some way or other, the time is almost past, and Spitridates perhaps would be more in danger with his Father, then with you; and Democlides tells me, that all things are ready for our departure.  
In conclusion Sir, Spitridates presented his hand unto the Princess: we got happily out of the Castle, and Town, accompanied only with the Prince, the page he brought, Democlides, and the two Captains, which were of the plot, and so took boat: Never was flight more prosperous than this, for we met with no obstacle: The Troops which Democlides commanded, guarded us to the Sea: and Spitridates having caused a Bridge to be broke in the night, by which other Quarters had communication with Democlides, so that we were very safe all the way: Democlides did not expose his soldiers unto any danger, for they acted according to his orders, and it is not for soldiers to examine the Commands of their superior Officers, but were bound to obey without any dispute, and therefore they ran no hazard. In conclusion, we came to the Ship, which waited for us, and we embarked, not yet knowing whither to go; not thinking upon any thing but how to avoid the danger of falling into the power of Arsamones. When we were once in the open Sea, Spitridates came unto the Princess Cabin; Madam, said he unto her, you are now at liberty, and there is none here who are not most willing to obey you: Whither is it your pleasure we should steer our course? This question brought tears from the eyes of the Princess, for when she could not find any place in the world wherein she had any power, she could not choose but fall into apprehensions of sorrow; yet recollecting her memory, she told him, how she heard that the King her Brother when he went from Heraclea, did design for Cappadocia, and to offer himself unto Ciaxares to deliver his daughter, with intentions to demand some aid from you: and she said, that she could not think upon any other place of safety but that: then Spitridates told her, how he heard the day before from a soldier which came from that Army, that the Princess Mandana had suffered shipwreck, and was drowned, and that certainly the King of Pont was not with Ciaxares; the Princess than not knowing either what to say or do, in conclusion resolved, to get far enough off from Pontus, and Bythinia, and to make towards Cappadocia, to try whether what the soldier said was true. All that night, and the next day, we steered that way, and towards evening a violent storm did arise, which lasted all the night following: at last we were almost gravelled in a Bank of sand, but by good fortune we escaped the danger without any hurt to the Ship: There we saw the Sea even almost covered with abundance of shipwreck, and near a Rock close by us, some men that were dead, and some in whom there was some life: It was a large while before we could put out a little boat to help any of these miserable men, because the Tempest was yet very high, but after a little calm we took two of them up, who did yet breath, and one of them I knew to be a Servant unto the King of Pontus: I no sooner saw him, but I cried out, and calling him by his name, he turned his eyes towards me, and would have answered, but could not; It was apparent enough that he knew me, for he lifted up his hands towards Heaven, as if he did deplore the misfortune of the King his Master, and seemed astonished to see me: whilst I was busy in applying such things unto him as common humanity required, some or other did very inconsiderately advertise the Princess of this accident, who would needs come to see this unfortunate man: since it was she who preferred him unto the King her Brother, he knew her voice as soon as he heard it, and when she spoke unto him, he began to strive with himself, and pronounced these words distinctly; Ah Madam, is it you? Yes, replied she, but where is the King? In Armenia, said he unto her, and sent me to bring you— In speaking these words he fell into a swound, and expired before he could end what he begun to speak: The other man also who we brought into the Ship died speechless also, and we could know no more: Then did we search his clothes for Letters, and indeed did find one, but as ill luck was, the water had defaced all● the characters, except two or three by which the Princess knew it to be the hand of the King her Brother. This Encounter renewed all our sorrows, and whilst they were endeavouring to get this Ship from off this Bank of Sand, the Princess grieved exceedingly, not because this man had been her slave, but because he had something to say unto her, and died before it could be known: In the mean while we got unto the open Sea, and the Princess desired Spitridates to go into an Arm of the Sea not far off, where the Lower Armenia towards Pontus does border upon a little Province, which formerly was the Kings. It is a hard task Sir, to relate unto you, all the discourse between Spitridates, and the Princess Araminta, during our Navigation: But in short, they expressed themselves unto each other in all the terms that love and virtue could invent: After we were come into this Arm of the Sea, we quitted our Ship: and Democlides, whom Spitridates had ordered to take money enough for a long voyage, when he came first from his Quarters, went unto the next Town to buy horses, to carry us unto the River Euphrates; for as you know, this River divides the two Armenia's. Then was it put to the question, what course Spitridates should take when they came in Armenia: and it was a most pitiful story unto him, when the Princess said, that he must leave her; for I must confess unto you, said she unto him, that I dare not trust too much unto the generosity of the King my Brother, and though I do know him to be very generous, yet I will not adventure you in the power of a Prince who never loved you, especially now, since you are son unto his enemy, and an enemy who hath taken two Kingdoms from him: Therefore Spitridates, since your virtue has preserved me from falling into the hands of the King your Father, It befits me to preserve you from the fury of the King my Brother: Alas, Madam, said he, let not any considerations of my interest trouble you, nor hinder me from waiting upon you: for though the King your Brother should treat me hardly, yet would I most willingly endure it for the love of you. I doubt it not at all, said she unto him, but however I desire you should only endure the miseries of absence for the love of me; for I cannot look upon you but with an eye of great esteem, and I know that the King my Brother will not relish it, because perhaps he will imagine that my complacency towards you proceeds from my hopes of two Kingdoms from Spitridates. But Madam, said he unto her, whither would you have me go? Any whither, said she, where you may with safety to your person wait for a turn of fortune: and until the heart of the King your Father be mollified. But Madam, replied he, since I most willingly forsake all for you, may you not dispense a little with that rigid Decorum which you observe in every th●ng? If you really love me, and think upon my passion and respects unto you, what sorrows I have suffered; what imprisonments I have endured, and what exile I now undertake for you, I conceive you will permit me to live disguised with you, or else to let us go and live together in some unknown place far from any acquaintance, where we may wait upon the pleasure of the Gods, until such times as I am in a capacity to restore one Crown unto the King your Brother, and present another unto you. What you now tell me, replied the Princess, is neither just nor honourable: for I should thereby incense the mind of the King my Brother, and you the King your Father, and we should expose ourselves to a thousand unprofitable miseries. Then, suffer me, said he, to go with you unto the King of Pontus, without any disguisement or banishment. Though he should be in a disposition to receive you favourably, answered she, yet certainly it would be upon a condition that you should bear Arms against the King your Father, which questionless you never will. nor will I advise you unto it; and therefore, Spitridates, of necessity you must leave me. Must I needs leave you, Madam, replied he in a sad ●one? Yes, said she, and if reason will not prevail with you, I will join my prayers and commands unto it. And however, you may be sure of this advantage, that as my fortunes are, you need fear no Rivals. Ah Madam, cried Spitridates, in taking away of Crowns, they have not taken away your unparalled beauty, nor your incomparable mind, which has not a second in virtue: Therefore, Madam, I must always doubt it, especially knowing that the King your Brother will be continually exasperating you against me. Look not upon Spitridates, I beseech you, Madam, as the son of an Usurper, but as a Prince who will never be King, till he can restore one Crown unto the King your Brother, and another present unto you: I have already said it, and I repeat it again: you Madam, shall either reign, and your Brother too, or else I will not: and therefore, you may if you please, be so just at the least, as to give him some assurance of your affection, who has consecrated every minute of his life unto you: Do not, I beseech you, banish me from you, before you assure me that I shall be entertained always in your heart, and that nothing can ever banish me from thence, for without this Madam, I cannot obey you. I will promise you, said she unto him to possess the King my Brother with your generosity as much as I can; and will eternally remember the Commands of the dying Prince Sinnesis, and by consequence keep my affection entirely for you, as long as I live. May I build upon this? said this sorrowful Prince, You may, replied she, and I should think myself most unjust and ungrateful if I failed, since you are so generous, and since my affection is so pure and innocent, that it were a greater crime to resist it, then preserve it for you. I know not, Madam, whether I should dare to tell you, that this is not enough. I know not, Spitridates, (said she, and interrupted him) whether I should tell you, that I think it a little too much, and that you do me wrong to suspect me, and complain. But Madam, replied he, what is it I beseech you that you do for me? and what can I do more for you? You do every thing, answered she, that I can desire, I cannot deny it; but though I do nothing for you, yet I do all I can, or may be, more than I ought, and let that satisfy you. Oh Heavens! replied he, what do you do, my Divine Princess, which I can interpret unto my advantage? I show you, answered she, those sorrows which I cannot hide: you may see the thoughts of my soul in my eyes; and I permit you to think that my heart prefers you before all the world; and after this, Spitridates, what can you desire more? and whether is it not more than the Princess Araminta ought to do for the Son of Arsamones? However, Spitridates, take heed lest ambition be too prevalent with you during your absence, since it is usual to alter the souls of all men. To be sure of that, replied he, do not banish me from you. I would I could not, answered she, but it must be, and you must be gone: I should be too tedious, Sir, if I should repeat all this sad conference, which truly on both sides was so tender, so generous, and so full of sorrow, that I who heard it wept; for the Princess desiring, I was all the while present: It was in vain for Spitridates to use any arguments of dissuasion, for since we were got a good way into Armenia, and out of any fears of Arsamones, she would needs have him leave her; and she resolved to go either into Cicilie, or Paphlagonia, and wait there for some alterations in fortune. He had a great desire not to part until they certainly knew where the King her Brother was, but she would not hearken to him, being much afraid lest Spitridates should fall into the hands of her Brother: So he obeyed her, but never was so sad a separation: he would needs have Democlides, and the two Captains, remain with her, and he keep none with him but his Page. I shall not relate every circumstance of this sad adieu, since the truth is, I cannot without tears, and so many testimonies of my weakness, as perhaps you will condemn me for it: But so it was Sir, that Spitridates departed the saddest man alive, and the Princess as melancholy as ever any in the world. Then we left the River Euphrates, and went towards Artaxates. Since the Princess did not know the intentions of the King her Brother, she desired not to be divulged for what she was until she had spoken with him, so that all the time of our travel we did not so ceremoniously render those ho 〈…〉 which were her due. When we came to Artaxates, where we might easily conceal our s 〈…〉 by reason of its greatness, we were informed, that the King of Pontus had be●n 〈…〉 but every one told us he was not there at that time: The Princess could not believe it▪ 〈…〉 gined that the thing was known only amongst the Grandees, and that for som● r●aso 〈…〉 she understood not, the King her Brother desired to be received privately, and w 〈…〉 ceremony.  
In conclusion, she commanded Democlides, and the other two Captains, to be 〈…〉 tive to get true intelligence, that those unto whom they addressed themselves 〈…〉 for some d●●e design: Moreover, the Prince Phaartes, Brother unto 〈…〉nes, and second Son unto the King of Armenia, chancing accidentally to see 〈…〉 minta enter into a little dark Church whither we went early in a morning, he● b●a 〈…〉 his curiosity to know who that stranger was: for though our habits were after the 〈…〉 fashion, he supposed she was not an Artaxetian, because he never heard her be 〈…〉 of: so that being extremely desirous to know what she was, and where she dwelled, 〈…〉 one of his servants to follow her: He who was imyloyed in the business, having e 〈…〉 concerning us, told him, that we were people of some hidden design, and that certain 〈…〉 Princess was one of great quality, though we had never spoke as much; and by his rep 〈…〉 this Prince was much more earnest to know who she was. At the same time time one of the King of Armenia's Grand-officers, who lodged near us, being informed by this Prince, that there was some disguised people in Artaxates, who had some bad design in agitation, and since all Asia almost was in Arms, and knowing how he had incensed the King of Med 〈…〉 by refusing Tribute, he sent unto us to know who we were: At the first, we dissembled the truth, but since no credit was given unto us, and the Princess was in fear to expose herself unto some dangerous adventure, she confessed all, and told them who she was, and desired to speak with the King. But the King not being very well, he appointed the Prince Phaartes to go unto her, and to see what the matter was: Then went this Prince unto the Princess Araminta, whose beauty made a deep impression upon his soul: She told him her quality, her condition, and her business; he without any difficulty believed her, and did assure her that the King her Brother came not unto that Court: He was exceedingly civil unto the Princess, and went in all haste unto the King his Father, with intentions of moving him to treat her according to her quality: But the King who ever was of a suspicious and covetous disposition, had thoughts far different from the Prince his Sons; for he would not take any notice of her, lest she should put him to some expenses, and lest he should thereby incense a prosperous Prince, as Arsamones was, by protecting the Sister of his enemy: so that notwithstanding all the alliances between the Kings of Pontus, and the Kings of Armenia, he seemed as if he suspected her, and commanded that she, and all about her should be secured: as afterwards I understood by one who was a Confident unto Phaartes: This young Prince did with all his power oppose the King his Father's design, but the King being desirous not to have it published, charged the Prince his Son not to speak of any thing which the Princess had said unto him; intending doubtless to serve his own ends by it upon any occasion, either by restoring her unto the King of Pontus, or unto Arsamones. The Prince Phaartes even desperate at this injurious resolution, did yet procure that we should be brought into this Castle, with the two Captains who are here also: As for Democlides, the Princess had employed him to go and inquire after news of the King her Brother, so that he was not taken as we were: You may easily imagine, Sir, the sorrows of the Princess, when she saw her Sanctuary was turned into a prison, and when she saw no possible means to get out without some extraordinary assistance from the Gods: Since then, Sir, we have been kept here, without any consolation, but from the Prince Phaartes, who often did visit the Princess; and indeed when you did take this Castle, his frequent visits began to displease; for contrary to the King his Father's orders we were treated with so great a respect, that it was apparent he disobeyed his Father and that love had took too deep an impression in his soul. In the mean while we heard no news either of the King of Pontus, or Spitridates, or Democlides, nor heard we the King of Bythinia so much as talked on. This Sir, is the fortune of the Princess Araminta, unto whom, if you please, we will go, since I have no more to say, but to conjure you to protect her.  
You need not move me unto that (wise and discreet Hesionida, replied Cyrus) which so many reasons does invite me unto. The beauty, virtue, quality, and misfortune of this Princess, are arguments able to move the most insensible man alive to serve her, and therefore since you think it fit, let us go and tell her as much: for I can assure her, that her misfortunes are not greater than my desires to be serviceable unto her: for though she be a Sister unto a Prince who is my Rival, and who detains from me that which is incomparably most dear unto me, yet shall I be as just unto her, as she is unto Spitridates, who does not accuse Spitridates for the ambition of his Father, but knows how to put a just difference, without any prejudicated opinion. After this Cyrus gave Hesionida thanks for her great pains, in relating unto him the story of the Princess Araminta, and going unto the Chamber where she was, he saluted her with extraordinary civility. Madam, said he unto her, when I did visit you before, I knew only your quality, your beauty, and some part of your mind; but now, since I understand the whole Story, and am acquainted with the height of your soul, your virtue, and your great misfortunes; I regard you with much more reverence and admiration, than before. The last of these whereof you speak Sir, answered she, and which is the only thing that I have any pretence unto you, does not usually beget respect in the minds of men, but since you Sir, are none of the ordinary sort, I must and aught to expect miracles from you. You may expect submission and service, answered he, from all that are capable of reason. Then to let her know, that he harkened unto her Story with an attentive ear; he repeated the most considerable passages of her misfortunes, and condoled them: Then did he exceedingly commend Spitridates, knowing that nothing is more obliging and pleasing, then to hear the party loved well spoken of, and indeed he omitted nothing which was requisite to comfort this great Princess, from whom also he hoped for some good office, whensoever she should speak with the King her Brother. After a thousand expessions of reciprocal love from both sides, he left her, and went to give necessary orders for matters of war. He was informed that Artaxates was very quiet, that all the Guards were very circumspect, and that Hidaspes, who was gone out towards the foot of the Mountains, unto which the King of Armenia was retreated, had intercepted many Carriages of Victual and Ammunition, which the Country would have carried unto the King: and afterwards retiring to his Chamber, he spent the rest of the day in memory of his dear Princess: he wondered that Ciaxares came not up; he was vexed that he could not hear any thing of the Assyrian King; he was grieved that he could not know where Mandana was: and comparing the misfortune of the Princess Araminta with his own, though hers were great, yet he thought his more insupportable. Then did he remember how Hesionida spoke of certain Persian Merchants, which had seen Spitridates near shipwreck at Chalcedonia: Then did he conclude, that from thence did the reports of his death arise, since every one said, there was such a great resemblance between the Prince and himself: and that since Spitridates had been in Persia, and afterwards in Medea, from thence did arise all the reports of his resurrection; and so his fancy passing from one thing to another, yet never forgetting to retain a pleasing apprehension of his dear Princess, he passed away almost all the night without any sleep at all, and he did think it not permittable, that he should bestow one minute of his life upon any thing whatsoever, that might exclude the passion which reigned in his heart.    
The End of the Second Book.   

ARTAMENES, OR CYRUS the GREAT. The Third Part.  

Book. III.  
THe Sun no sooner sent out his first Rays, but Cyrus had intelligence of some Troops which appeared upon the further side of the Plain, in the way towards Artaxates: Since it was not that way which Ciaxares was to come, nor had he received any intelligence of his Advance, he imagined that perhaps, it might be some relief going unto the King of Armenia: so that he took horse, and went himself out to see who they were: he presently dispatched Orders unto all the Quarters of his Army to take heed of a surprise, and commanded them all to randezvous: then drawing out that Troop which was next him, he went out to observe the March of these unknown forces which appeared: he had no sooner got upon a little hill, from whence one might discover all the Plain of Artaxates, from the bottom of the Chaldean Mountains as far as those where the King of Armenia was, but he espied a far off some Troops, which seemed to make a halt, whilst a party of about fifty horses only were drawn out, and came directly towards the place where Cyrus was; he no sooner observed that, but drawing out the like number of his own men under the Command of Aglatidas, he sent them to know who they were: himself staying in much impatience to observe what passed: since Aglatidas desired nothing more than any occasions to die honourably, he obeyed Cyrus with much joy: and after he had given some animating exhortations unto his men to fight gallantly, if there should be any occasion, he advanced towards them, who made towards him: when they were both of them within a flight shot one of another, and Aglatidas believing them for enemies, and prepared for fight, he saw that he who commanded this fifty horse, did let fall the Point of his Javelin, in sign of peace, and caused all those who followed him to do the like. Aglatidas being much amazed at this, kept his Javelin with his Rest, and advanced to see who it was: Then the Commander in chief, of this supposed enemy, advanced himself alone in the posture of one that would parley, and not fight: Aglatidas seeing this, sent back those which followed him, and letting the Point of his Javelin fall, he● went unto him, and saw him to be a man of a most admirable Garb, wearing the most glorious Arms that ever eye beheld, and mounted upon a most goodly horse; they saluted one another very civilly, and afterwards this unknown Gallant, said unto Aglatidas, Since I do not now come to fight with you, I pray do me the favour to conduct me unto your General; and if you think these fifty horses be too many for my Guard, I will go single with you upon your word: Your generosity to trust a man you know not, replied Aglatidas, doth let me see that I need not fear any thing, and takes away all distrust of you, ●nd therefore if you please, you may command your men to follow mine: In the mean while Cyrus was much astonished to observe the passage, and could not possibly imagine the meaning of it: he was so unquiet at it, that he could not rest any longer in that place, but advanced some forty or fifty paces, with a party of Officers and Volunteers with extreme curiosity. He saw afar off, that this stranger was very handsome: but being come nearer him, he was much more surprised to see it was the King of Assyria: This unexpected sight did make him change colour, and brought a fresh lustre into his face: and as for the King of Assyria, he no sooner saw Cyrus, but he was also much moved: yet since they were both of them infinitely generous, after Aglatidas advanced to tell Cyrus, that this stranger whom he knew not, (for he had but only one glimpse of him before upon the Tower of Sinope) desired to be conducted to him; they saluted one another with much civility: and both of them lighting from their horses, Cyrus since he was yet only the Son of a King, and the most civil of all men living, did render unto this King all the honours which could possibly be expected, as if he were yet the Master of Babylon, and a quiet Possessor of all Assyria. The King of Assyria did also pay all due civility unto Cyrus, as one that merited the Empire of all the world, and as one that was both his Deliverer, and Vanquisher: And indeed, the compliments from both were so high, that it was evident they strove which should excel in civility, and it was evident, especially to such as were acquainted with their interests, that their minds had not much tra● quility in them: There appeared such a kind of fierceness in their eyes, as did discover the agitation of their souls, and such a constrainedness in all their civilities, as plainly spoke them to be Rivals, and Enemies: After they were both alighted from their horses, every one out of civility withdrew, and kept at a distance. Then (said the King of Assyria) As I have not changed my mind, in changing my name of Philidaspes, so I cannot think that you have changed your resolution in ceasing to be Artamenes: but that I shall find Cyrus to be the same Prince with whom I made Conditions on the top of the Tower in Sinope: I hope, I say, that we shall both of us go together in Quest of our Princess; that we shall fight for her; that we shall release her; and until then, we shall live together as if no difference were between; and then, in conclusion of all, I do expect that satisfaction from you which you promised, and that though your illustrious Arm has already vanquished me, yet you will not refuse to dispute this last victory with me. You have reason to believe, replied Cyrus, that I shall punctually perform all my promises, and therefore you may think yourself as safe in the King of Medes Army, as if you were in the head of your own; for I am most certain, that Prince will never fail no more than I, in whatsoever he has promised. I am very sensible, replied the King of Assyria, that the Conqueror of Babylon may well think it strange, that the same-Prince whom he hath vanquished both in private and public fight, who owes his life unto him, and who has no share in the Princess Mandana's heart, should, yet after all this contend for that prize which his Conqueror does deserve, which he hath already conquered, and which she hath bestowed upon him: But yet Sir, love is all my argument: I love her, and you love her, there needs no more. And since love, not ambition, was the ground of our wars, to conquer Provinces, and Kingdoms only, is not an absolute conquest; but it must be my death only which will complete your victory, and permit you to enjoy the fruits of it without any molestation. Questionless, replied Cyrus, It was not ambition which spurred me up unto this war; and I wish with all my heart that you were Master of Babylon again, so the Princess Mandana had not been carried away: I wish that giddy fortune had never put me to the necessity of making myself happy, by the ruins of so great a Prince as you: but since the case is upon these terms, let us think no more upon it: not of any thing else, but releasing our Princess, and putting her into a condition to take the Vanquisher, and lament the Vanquished: Let us, I say, perform such glorious acts for her deliverance, that we may both of us render ourselves worthy of her esteem, and compassion: for knowing your valour, as I do, (said Cyrus with much modesty) I ought rather to expect her compassion, than her affection, after your defeat; but said he, I would it were come to that, since we cannot know where the Princess Mandana is. The King of Assyria did condole with Cyrus at the bad news, and rendering an account of all his actions, he told him, that in his departure from Pteria, he went unto a Province in his Dominions, which lies along the River Euphrates, and confines upon Armenia, that there he had raised some forces, which with some fresh Lev●es in other places, amounted to the number of twelve thousand men: Cyrus also out of his high generosity, rendered an account unto him in a concise manner, of the state of all things: and after that the King of Assyria told him that all his forces were to be ordered according to his Commands, Cyrus for a while refused it, yet in the end, he took all necessary care for their encampment, and appointed them their Quarters. After this, these two Illustrious Rivals took horse, and went towards the Castle where the Princess Araminta lodged, as if they were the best friends upon Earth, without any difference at all betwixt them: In the way, Cyrus showed his Army as they stood in Battalis unto the King of Assyria; showed him also their several Quarters, and the Mountains unto which the King of Armenia was retreated. Both of them did sigh very oft; for love and jealousy, hatred and grief, did so discompose their minds, that they stood in need of all their magnanimity to keep themselves within those limits of civility which they had prescribed. The King of Assyria told Cyrus, how he heard the King of Lydia was arming himself without any cause, knowing that it was neither in behalf of Ciaxares nor himself.  
Thus, discoursing upon several subjects, especial upon their hopes to hear more of the Princess Mandana upon the King of Armenia's taking, they came at the last to the Castle, where Cyrius having given orders to make the best Chamber in it ready for the King of Assyria, he left him in it, and went out to take care of all things expedient unto their Design. The sight of this Rival did so freshly revive all the differences which had passed between them when he was only Philidaspes, that he longed to be alone in his Chamber, and therefore with none but Feraulas he went thither: Is it not enough (said he unto this dear Confident of his passion) that I should be separated from her I love above my life, but that I must be tormented with his presence, whom I hate even unto death? and yet generosity commands me to suspend all my resentments, and civilly to comply with my most mortal enemy: Yet were I assured the divine Mandana would one day recompense me for this violence I do unto myself, I should have some consolation. For my part, said Feraulas, I conceive you may rather expect a chiding then any thanks from the Princess, for promising the King of Assyria to fight with him, after you have released her. Oh I wish to the Heavens, replied Cyrus, it came to that; No, no, Fortune, I desire no other favour at thy hands, but to assist me in releasing my Princess, and so let me meet my inveterate enemy with a sword in my hand: commit all the rest unto my valour and my love; for as gallant as he is I hope for victory: But alas, in the mean time I am all fury; the fight of my old enemy Philidaspes revives all my jealou●●e and hate: The King of Pont also, who loved me before he knew I was his Rival, triumphs over all my hopes; Perhaps, I say, he has not only the happiness of seeing her, but hath gained her heart, and obtained his pardon: so that since he did not, like Philidaspes, ravish her away, but save her from shipwreck, she cannot look upon him as an injurious Ravisher: however he is no less culpable in my eyes; so that which way soever I look, I see none but the Ravishers of Mandana to punish: yet alas, I see them but asar off, since I must not fall upon the King of Assyria, and since I know not where the King of Pontus is. Amidst these thoughts Aglatidas entered, and brought Artaban unto him, who came from Sinope, and assured Cyrus, that within these two days the whole Army would be come up before Artaxates: Cyrus did gladly receive him, both because his news did please him, and because he was a friend unto Aglatidas. He enquired very affectionately concerning the health of Ciaxares, the Kings of Phrygia and Heriania, and of all the rest in the Army. After this, conceiving it fit to acquaint the King of Assyria and the Princess Araminta with this news, he prepared to go unto them, bidding Aglatidas very sweetly to make his friend welcome, But (said he, addressing himself unto Artaban) grieve him not with any stories of Amestris, for his own passion, without the addition of new misfortunes, torments him enough. I should be very sorry Sir (replied Artaban) not to obey you in all things; but I told him as we were coming hither, how that fair Lady was not in a very happy condition: and I told him also how Ottanus would not accept of the Government in the Province of the Arisantines, which you would have conferred upon him. Would not Ottanus (replied Cyrus in great amazement) accept of a thing so advantageous for him? what may be his reason for it? I know not that, Sir, answered he; I, but I am certain he hath left Ecbatan, and when I came from thence reports were, that he came into Artaxates, so that if this be true, he is certainly upon the Mountains where the King of Armenia is. If it be so, said Cyrus unto Aglatidas, perhaps we shall release Amestris before Mandana: for it is to be supposed, that Ottanus having committed so base an act, as to side with the enemies of his Prince, and a Prince too who had honoured him with a Government so much above his desert, he will perish and die there: which if he do (added he, and smiled) Aglatidas must go and comfort Amestris. I do not know (replied that sad Lover) whether or no I shall be able to comfort others, but I am most certain that I have had a long time need of consolation myself. After this, he thanked Cyrus for his tenderness over him, and waiting upon him as far as the Princess Araminta's Chamber, he went to entertain his dear friend Artaban with more freedom than before, and to inquire more particularly of him concerning Amestris. Mean while, after Cyrus had acquainted the Princess Araminta with the King of Assyria's arrival, and with the news of Ciaxares his advance, he went unto the Chamber of his Rival, whose mind was altogether as turbulent as the mind of Cyrus, who in all likelihood could never hope for the happiness of b●ing beloved, although he should deliver Mandana, and vanquish Cyrus: nor though he did flatter up himself with hopes in the Oracles, yet could he never pretend to have any other satisfaction than revenge upon him: However, since love and hope are inseparable Companions, he sometimes fancied that this his illustrious Rival should be no sooner out of the world, but he should possess his place: yet these fancies did quickly vanish, and he did more often imagine, maugre all his oraculous assurance from Heaven, that as soon as he had killed Cyrus, he should then be more hated then before: These were the imaginations of that Prince when Cyrus came into his Chamber, to acquaint him with the news which Artaban brought. After he had stayed a quarter of an hour with him, consulting what Quarters those Troops which he brought should have in the morning, he left him and went to give orders for it, and many other things.  
Mean while the King of Assyria, after he had sent to ask the permission of Cyrus, went to visit the Princess Araminta: In the mean while also Cyrus sent unto several Guards which he had placed, that they should not be surprised or amazed when they saw the Troops of Ciaxares advance. He sent also into Artaxates, appointing them to prepare the King of Armenia's Palace for Ciaxares, and the Princess Araminta: for since the whole Army was to be joined, he thought it expedient to make sure as well within the Town as without. He was also informed by Araspes, that Hidaspes and Chrisantes had defeated some Troops which the Prince Phaartes had sent out into the Plain to forage for victuals. After all this he retired unto his Chamber, and, as usually he did, passed over the night without a wink of sleep. In the morning he went to visit the quarters of Hidaspes and others; and the day following that, he would go meet Ciaxares, and carry the King of Assyria with him: These two Princes than took horse; Thrasibulus, some Volunteers, and two hundred Horses only waited upon them: and after he had caused the Assyrian Troops to advance, and ranked them in Battalia with the rest, to receive Ciaxares with the more ceremony, he sent Araspes before, that he might prepare the King to meet with the King of Assyria; not but that he knew Ciaxares would keep promise since he had passed it, but because he always used to observe order and decorum in all things. After some three hours march they discovered clouds of dust to arise from the ground, caused by the march of the Army: Presently after, they met: and he came up to that Regiment where Ciaxares was, with the King of Phrigia. As soon as the Soldiers saw Cyrus, they began to shout with such great acclamations of Joy, that it may well be said they forgot Ciaxares was there. Cyrus' beckoned unto them with his hand, and with great modesty made signs unto them to be silent, to march, and keep their ranks; he refused these honours with such a kind of obliging smile, as spoke him neither pleased or angry at it. The King of Assyria heard all these acclamations with much perplexity, though he would not show it: and at last they met Ciaxares in a place where he was lighted from his horse to refresh himself, and to see those Troops drawn out, which he intended should march first unto Artaxates. As soon as Cyrus discovered him under the Trees, he advertised the King of Assyria, so that lighting from their horses some twenty paces off, they went up unto him. Our invincible Hero went some three paces before the King of Assyria, with intentions to present him unto Ciaxares; but do what he could the King embraced him first, and afterwards saluted the King of Assyria very civilly, telling him, that though he had been the cause of all his troubles, yet it was just he should in some sort repair those incivilities done unto Philidaspes, with the respects which they would render unto the King of Assyria. Sir, replied this Prince, if I have trespassed against you, Fortune hath sufficiently punished me for it; not that I think the loss of my Crown comparable to the loss of the Princess Mandana: my intentions are to bring the last unto you, without ask you the other; and I come into your Army with resolution to hazard my life for your service: If the propitious Fate of your Arms had left me a greater number of Subjects, I should have brought you a greater aid; But since all are become yours, I hope you will accept of these twelve thousand men which now I bring, as well as if they were a hundred thousand, since they are all I have. Ciaxares returned a very civil answer unto him. After this, Thrasibulus, and others of quality who came from the Camp, saluted Ciaxares, and gave Cyrus' time to bestow a Compliment upon the King of Phrigia, upon whom the King of Assyria did cast a malicious eye, remembering him as one that changed sides, and forsook him. After this, Ciaxares taking Cyrus aside, whilst the King of Assyria was in discourse with Thrasibulus, he commended him for all he had done, and grieved with him, that they could not yet hear of Mandana: Cyrus rendered a short and pithy account of all the Armenian Affairs since he came into it, and of the present state of every thing: After which taking horse, and giving the right hand unto the Assyrian King as unto the greatest Prince of the world, they went unto the great Town of Artaxates; near which Cyrus by orders from Ciaxares did draw up all his huge Army into Battalia, that the people seeing it, might still continue in better obedience, and that the King of Armenia discovering it from the Mountains, might sooner think upon rendering himself: Mean while Cyrus sent all those Troops which he brought first to guard the Palace where the King was to quarter: he sent others also to keep Courts of Guard in other public places, and Ports of the Town. And when all was thus ordered, Ciaxares entered into Artaxates with those who were ordered to quarter in it; leaving the main Body of his Army to quarter all along the River Araxes, which runs through the midst of that great Plain: The next morning Cyrus moved Ciaxares that he would be pleased to permit the Princess Araminta to come from the Castle where she was unto Artaxates, that she might be well used, although she was sister unto the Ravisher of Mandana: Ciaxares consented; so that he went, and conducted her into the Town, where Ciaxares did visit her, and at the request of Cyrus rendered her all the honour that was due unto her quality: She was lodged in a Palace by herself, which formerly belonged unto the Prince Tigranes, for Cyrus did alter his former intentions, and ordered it so; because he thought that to be more convenient for her, by reason she would be there at more freedom. This Prince likewise treated those two Captains which came with her very civilly; and omitted nothing that either Reason, civility or generosity required: The King of Phrigia also did visit this Princess, remembering still the friendship that was between him and the King her brother, though now they were on opposite sides, and confirming her in that high esteem which she had already entertained of Cyrus. The day after, the Rearguard came up, under the Conduct of the Hyrcanian King, which was quartered also in the same Plain of Artaxates: This Prince not desiring to lodge in the Town, more than Cyrus, who since the Army came up lay always in the field; and so did the King of Assyria, who, according to his old custom, could not endure his Rival should outdo him in any thing. Mean while a Council of War was called to consult whether they should content themselves with stopping all victuals from the Enemy, or whether they should enforce the King of Armenia out of those Mountains which seemed absolutely inaccessible: The King of Assyria, though he had been vanquished and an enemy, yet had his voice in Council: But though Cyrus and he had both of them jealous thoughts one of another, and ever had a secret hatred and spirit of contradiction in every thing, yet in this they were both of one opinion, and were the only two which voted to force the King of Armenia out of those inaccessible Mountains: Not that they saw any great reason for their opinions; but since it concerned Mandana, and since they gave their votes in presence of one another, they both of them aimed at the highest difficulties, and the most hazardous for themselves. All that Hidaspes reported from the Armenian Soldiers whom they took prisoners, and related their Prince had not victuals to subsist many days, was in vain; and they answered unto that, how it was not wisdom to give credit unto reports, since it is common for prisoners to flatter their Conquerors with some advantageous tales in hopes to be better used. When it was objected, that these Mountains were inaccessible, and that by rolling down great stones only, six thousand men might easily defend themselves against six hundred thousand; when they could not contradict this objection, nor belie their own eyes, than they said, that it must indeed be confessed some men would be lost, yet the dishonour and shame to have so great an Army at the foot of these Mountains, and attempt nothing, would be balanced with it: That there was a great necessity of knowing where the Princess Mandana was, and to be satisfied, there was as great a necessity of taking the King of Armenia presently, and not to linger out the time till famine force him out of his sanctuary. That, whilst they were busy in guarding only the passages and advenues unto these Mountains, perhaps the people of both Armenia's were uniting themselves, and gathering into a vast Body, which might find them more difficulties to overcome then this, and therefore for these Reasons their opinions were to enforce these Mountains. But although the opinion of Cyrus did always use to lead the rest at other times, yet it did not so now: for all with one consent knowing certainly the King of Armenia had but scant of victuals, and seeing that at fewest thirty thousand men must needs perish in the attempt, did resolve only to stop all passages; to repulse all those that made any sallies out of the Mountains, and to invite them unto it, to seem sometimes as if they would make assaults in several quarters: They conceived it not just to let such a vast number of people to perish for want of a little patience, especially since they had no certainty that the Princess Mandana was in the place. This advice being generally to be pursued, no more was to be done, but to keep most strict Guards round about the mountains, and to find out all the blind paths and byways.  
The next morning, Ciaxares would take a view of the Assyrian Troops, in Battalia by themselves, which now they had mingled with the rest, as being all of one side: Mean while, this Siege without a Town, was not so idle a business as Cyrus did imagine it, for since the Prince Phaartes was very gallant, and since love was a spur unto his valour, he began to bestir himself, though during the first days, he was sick with grief at his Father's losses, and that the Princess Araminta was in the hands of his enemies. As he was well versed in all the byways of these mountains, he would sometimes come and send us a shower of Arrows, and so vanish in a moment, that none could know what was become of him: Sometimes he would come in the night unto the foot of the mountains, by such blind ways through the Rocks where none but Armenians could come, and give an Alarm unto all the Camp; and since he had very good Spies in the Army of Ciaxares, he always made his Sallies on that side where Cyrus was not, for the valour of this Prince was most terrible unto all the Armenians. But since Cyrus was not used to be surprised, not surprise others, he resolved every night to go into seve 〈…〉 Quarter's, in hopes to meet with this almost invisible enemy, who would never fall upon his side, and who he knew to be the Prince Phaartes by some prisoners which he had taken. Upon such a design as this which Cyrus had, the King of Assyria would be sure to make one, as well as other particular friends of Cyrus. Thrasibus, Aglatidas, Araspes, Persodes, Gadates, Gobrias, Megabises, Hidaspes, Thimocrates, Leontidas, Philocles, Adusias, Chrisantes, Feraulas, and many others were then with him: After they had waited several nights in vain, at the last it happened one night that Phaartes having no intelligence in what Quarter Cyrus was, and having a design to send out a Captain disguized in the habit of a Peasant, unto Tigranes his Brother, he happened to descend from the mountains on that side, where Cyrus lay in ambush with six hundred men, which he had culled out for that purpose: yet he had placed himself so, that Phaartes taking a little path upon his left hand, could not come unto the foot of the mountains, but that which at the first seeing did anger him, was afterwards his advantage; for when Phaartes with half his men was passed the foot of the mountains, Cyrus did immediately step between him, and his retreat, and perceiving that there was abundance of men amongst the Rocks as well as in the plain, he could not tell in which of those two the Prince Phaartes was; so that to be sure of meeting with him, he divided his men, the one half to assault those who were in the Rocks, and the other half to pursue those in the plain, who seeing their Retreat cut off, endeavoured to find out another; but Cyrus pursued them very close, whilst the King of Assyria did scuffle with them among the Rocks: The Heavens was very serene and clear, and the Stars did give a splendent lustre, so that this night's combat proved very sharp, and bloody: Thrasibulus and Aglatidas did do wonders in seconding the valour of Cyrus, who sound no small resistance from those he fought with: for the Prince Phaartes being there, did desperately defend himself, and did things worthy of eternal memory, yet being wounded in the right arm, and left hand, so that he could not hold his sword, he endeavoured to save himself: Then he fell off, being followed by fifteen or twenty of his men, whilst the rest kept their ground, and unperceived by Cyrus, or any of his men, he got into a little valley, wherein did fall a very rapid Torrent from the height of the mountains; there Phaartes h●d himself, hoping that when the Combat was ended, and the Troops of Cyrus drawn off, he might then perhaps get into his rocky way again. In the mean time, all the rest of his men were cut all in pieces, and Cyrus finding no resistance, went to see what the King of Assyria had done: be found him very busy with his enemies, who did not fly according to their old custom, because they knew that the Prince Phaartes was engaged: yet at the last, hoping he might gain some other Pass whereby to retreat, they retired unto a Pass, beyond which it was not possible to follow them; for as it was so narrow that two men might make head against an hundred thousand. After that they had done all that was possible, and were thinking upon a retreat, Cyrus enquired concerning all his friends, whom in the obscurity of night he could not discern: Aglatidas being next, told him that he heard the name of Ottanus used in the Combat. I heard more than you, said Cyrus, for I heard one cry, Ottanus is dead; as Aglatidas was about to answer, intelligence came to Cyrus, that some of the enemy had rallied together in a little valley, so that he went immediately thither; But Phaartes, (for it was he they meant) being advertised of their coming, by a soldier whom he had set sentinal at the advenue of the valley, and finding himself disabled from fight with any, and also considering the little number of his men, and they all wounded as well as himself, commanded them, to throw down their Arms, and follow him, choosing rather to trust unto the generosity of his enemy, then to a feeble resistance, which could do him no good: and since he was disabled from fight, he thought it less shame to render himself unto a gallant enemy, then to fly, 〈◊〉 let himself be killed without resistance: All his men obeying him, he went unto a passage where he expected his enemy to come; and since the Moon shined very bright, and objects might well be discerned; Cyrus was no sooner in sight, but one of his men knowing him, because he had been with Tigranes at Sinope, did show Phaartes which was he: This Prince than cried out, with a most generous boldness, so loud as he thought he might be understood: Whither art thou going Cyrus? dost thou not know, that it is not glorious to overcome at all times? Suffer thyself sometimes to be vanquished, and be assured that being overcome after that manner, thy victory will be more noble than if thou wert a Conqueror, and at this time there will be more honour in the triumph of thy clemency, then of thy courage and valour. Cyrus' upon this stood still, and turning towards Chrisantes, who stood next him, said smilingly unto him, I see there is nothing more ingenious than ill fortune, nor any thing more witty than necessity: and how much more wisely and eloquent we speak when we are conquered, than who we are Conquerors: after this, holding out his hand unto this disarmed enemy, whom yet he knew not; Assure thyself (said he unto him) thou shalt receive no harm from me, and who soever thou art, I will render thee any service in my power, even so far as to give thee thy liberty; for it is my custom to take them only for enemies, who are in a condition to defend themselves. Phaartes being charmed with the high generosity of Cyrus, said unto him, I do not wonder at all that the Gods should so continually give victory unto a Prince who knows so well how to use it, and I wonder less at the extreme affection which the Prince Tigranes my Brother had unto the most Illustrious Artamenes. Cyrus' knowing by these words, that it was the Prince Phaartes, he embraced him most civilly, and perceiving him wounded, he commanded horses to be fetched in all haste to carry this wounded Prince speedily unto some place where he might be dressed; For generous Prince, said he unto him, the mountains may perhaps be dangerous for you, considering the state you are in: The horses being brought, Cyrus commanded them to aid the Prince Phaartes, and two soldiers to lead his horse, because he was not able to hold the bridle by reason of his wounds. When he was gone, Cyrus missing Thrasibulus, enquired concerning him, and they told him, that he stayed with a wounded enemy, who rendered himself unto him: Feraulus said further, that after the fight was ended, he caused this prisoner to be carried by soldiers to the Camp, and he himself followed. Since the place where now they were was not far off from the place where the Prince did quarter, they went unto his Tents, and placed the Prince Phaartes in one of the most magnificent Pavilions; causing the Chirurgeons which were in the Tent of Thrasibulus to be called, for Cyrus himself would see him dressed: Mean while he sent Feraulus unto Ciaxares to inform him of all passages. The wounds of the Prince Phaartes being found to be more painful than dangerous, the Chirurgeons said, that there was no danger, if he escaped a fever; to prevent which, it was requisite for him to rest all that night, and a good part of the next morning. Cyrus then retired as well as the King of Assyria, though it went much against his mind to depart before he had asked him concerning the Princess Mandana, which considering the condition Phaartes was in, he durst not mention, but reason at this time ruled above his love, and Cyrus resolved to wait some certain hours for a satisfaction of his desires: Mean time, since Thrasibulus yet appeared not, and since he understood the Chirurgeons had been in his Tent, he asked them, whom they dressed there? They answered him, that they had dressed a very handsome man, who was in great danger of death, and who told Thrasibulus an hundred obliging Stories: That Thrasibulus was very much perplexed for him, and that without all doubt he was a man of quality. Cyrus' sent to ask who it was, but Thrasibulus leaving his wounded prisoner at rest, according to the orders of the Chirurgeons, came himself to relate the adventure. Cyrus no sooner saw him, but he saw melancholy in his face, and asked him very obligingly, how he did: What, generous Prince, said he unto him, are you so unfortunate as to wound a friend in lieu of an enemy? Sir, said he unto him again, to make you understand the whole adventure: It is requisite I relate the whole Story of my life, it being impossible otherwise, to comprehend the averseness of my Destiny: for, Sir, when I shall tell you that he who is now your prisoner, and wounded in my Tent, is Son unto the wise Pittacus, Prince of Mytelenes, whose name is Tissander, than you will doubtless know that he is Son unto one of the prime men of all Greece. I have long desired, said Cyrus, to know the life of that Prince, who hath taught me to overcome myself, and I am much indebted unto your valour; but illustrious Thrasibulus, I have been so busied with my own misfortunes, since you came to Sinope, that now I have no mind to desire the relation of yours; yet prepare yourself ere long for the relation of it, and in the mean time go and rest yourself, and take care of your wounded prisoner, who cut of my affection to you I know not whether I should love or hate; and if some Conference which I am to have with the Prince Phaartes concerning the Princess Mandana, do not drive me into absolute despair, and deprive me of my reason by depriving me of all hopes, I shall then hold an hour or two in discourse with you in private. Thrasibulus then thanked him for his goodness, and retired; leaving this Prince at liberty to lie down upon his bed for two or three hours, to recover his weariness; his sleep was not over quiet, for his impatience to speak with Phaartes did so torment him, that he could take no rest: He sent above twenty times, to know whether he was awake, and how he did of his wounds, but still the answer was, he was asleep. But desiring to see him before the King of Assyria came unto him, he went himself to visit him, and came just as he waked, so that he and the Physicians and Surgeons entered together, they found him very well, so that after he was dressed, they permitted him to perform his Compliment unto Cyrus for his great care of him, not forbidding him to talk, as they did the night before. Sir, said Phaartes unto him, if you treat your Enemies thus, how would you treat your Friends? You may know that by yourself, answered Cyrus, if you will; for if you will sincerely tell me where the Princess Mandana is, you will oblige me to be your Friend. I should be extremely glad to satisfy your curiosity, if I could, replied Phaartes, but I do profess before all the Gods whom we adore, that I know not where she is; and to make it evident that I am sincere, I will not say with the same confidence, that the King my father knows not, because since he is a Prince who doth not use to impart matters of State unto any, he may know more of it then I do: But Sir, if you dare take the word of an Enemy, permit me to go as soon as I am able unto the King my father, and after I have employed all my ingenuity to discover the truth, I will return and give you a sincere relation of it. Generous Prince, replied Cyrus, you need not pass your word, for you are absolutely free, and may do what you please, for I serve a King who uses to make good all the promises which I make: so that when it is your pleasure to return unto the King your father, you may; but if the prayers of an Enemy have any prevalency with you, I do conjure you to move the King of Armenia to impart all he knows concerning the Princess Mandana, and not to force Ciaxares to ruin him: Perchance you have seen how potent his Army is from the tops of your Mountains, so that I hope both reason, sense, and generosity will induce you to satisfy my demands. Phaartes then obliged himself by a hundred protestations of sincerity and freedom, and told him, that if the Surgeons thought expedient he would be carried the next morning, though he would not accept of that favour which Cyrus offered, to release him absolutely. But, said he further unto him, that you may give more credit unto my words, I will trust you with a secret which much concerns my life, which is, Sir, that you have in your keeping a Princess who hath the same influence upon the heart of Phaartes, that Mandana has upon the generous Cyrus: so that having a pawn so dear and precious unto me, you may well expect that fidelity from me, which very few enemies would pay unto those they fight with.  
As they were thus in conference, intelligence was brought unto Cyrus, that Ciaxares and the King of Phrigia, who also lodged in the Town, were coming to the Camp; so that he went from Phaartes to meet them: Just as the King of Assyria was entering, having some curiosity to inquire of the Princess Mandana, Cyrus blushed, and in short related the answer of Phaartes unto him, so that they went both together to meet Ciaxares, who gave them both very high commendations, but so, that it was easy to see he put a great difference between them. Cyrus gave him an account of all his Conference with Phaartes, and beseeched him that he might be treated as he had promised, which Ciaxares easily condescended unto, conceiving indeed that it was easier to come unto the knowledge of the truth by the mediation of that Prince, than any other way: So that Ciaxares gave Cyrus full power to transact that business, and every thing else, as he himself thought best expedient, without making any addresses unto him for advise; and after he had bestowed a visit upon Phaartes and Tisander, he returned unto Artaxates. In the mean while Aglatidas, who thought he heard the name of Ottanus mentioned in the fight, and who understood from Cyrus, that Ottanus was said to be dead, went to see the Prince Phaartes, and beseeched him to resolve him, whether it was true that Ottanus was engaged in his quarrel, and out in the last Combat: Phaartes told him both were true, and that he believed he perished the last night, because he heard one cry in the heat of Combat, that Ottanus was dead: Aglatidas understanding this, desired Arbatan who knew him, to inquire more certainty of it, during the two hours of truce which was agreed upon, for the fetching off their dead, and which indeed the Enemy did desire, principally to see whether Phaartes could be found amongst them.  
Artaban then went along with those whom Cyrus sent to bring off the bodies of some ten or twelve of his Soldiers which fell in the fight, seeming to look for an Officer and Friend of his who was missing: He searched very narrowly amongst all the dead; but though he did not find the body of Ottanus amongst them, yet was he able to carry back most certain news of his death: for amongst those who carried off their dead, there came also a servant of Ottanus who Artaban knew, and who searching for his Master close by that Torrent which falls from the Mountains into the little valley where Phaartes was retreated, he began suddenly to cry out: Artaban came to him, and there saw amongst some Rocks which stood in the water, a dead man, yet could not discover his face; yet by the rest of his body, clothes, and very remarkable Arms, the servant knew it to be his Master Ottanus: he saw also, that his shoulder which lay out of the water was all bloody, and therefore concluded him to be wounded: yet since this Torrent was so rapid and deep, it was very difficult to come unto the place where the corpse was, which stuck upon the point of a Rock: They sent for long poles where with to draw him out, but none could be found long enough to reach him; and no other invention could be devised; for it was too deep to wade, and too rapid to swim: yet whilst they were inventing some new way to draw off this corpse, a great gush of water fell from the Rocks upon that point which stopped him, and then the impetuous Torrent did gulf him into the bottom of the water, and there was he buried. After this, Artaban returned to the Camp with certain news of Ottanus his death, since his eyes were witnesses of it, it being imaginable, that as he fled with the rest into this little valley, he fell into this Torrent, and there perished; at the least it was the imagination of Artaban, for all the other men were of a hundred opinions contrary to one another. All those who knew the Interest that Aglatidas had in the death of this man, did rejoice at it; but as for himself, he was too wise, and too well accustomed unto sorrows, to pass so suddenly from melancholy to joy: all he said was, that he was not very sorry for the death of him who was a Tyrant unto Amestris, and by consequence that she was rid of him: Yet Megabises, who upon the same reason should have been glad also, was very sad at it, because he thought it would become the happiness of Aglatidas: so that though he thought never to have loved Amestris again, yet he found that he loved her still, by the renewing of his secret hate unto Aglatidas; yet he durst not manifest it, for Cyrus did so tenderly affect him, that it was a capital crime to be his declared Enemy. All this while Thrasibulus was with Tisander, whom the Surgeons found to be in a better state. The Prince Phaartes also did much mend upon it, so that he desired Cyrus he might go the next morning unto the King his father, and acquit himself of his Commission: Yet Cyrus would needs have him carried in a Litter, and so, that very morning on which the King of Armenia sent to see the Prince his son, he was conducted by a Guard of two hundred Soldiers unto the first Guards of the Armenian King, with whom Cyrus renewed the Truce, until the Prince Phaartes returned with his Answer. During this short interval, in which Cyrus hoped for a clear satisfaction of his desires, he paid all due civilicies unto every one: He went unto Artaxates to wait upon Ciaxares, and there he visited the Princess Araminta, and related unto her all that Phaartes had said concerning her, and what had passed between them, which she hearkened unto not without some blushes: She gave Cyrus' thanks for the liberty he had given Phaartes, but it was after such a manner, that he might know she rather thanked him for delivering her from all new expressions of his affection which he would have rendered her whilst he had continued a prisoner, then for any love she bore him, though she did esteem him very much. After this, Cyrus returned unto the Camp again, contemplating always upon his dear Princess, or discoursing either with Aglatidas, or Feraulas, or Chrisantes, in whom he put much confidence: He loved Araspes very well, yet since he never had been in love, he never spoke unto him concerning his passion: When he was come into the Camp, he went immediately unto the Tent of Thrasibulus, where since he was at leisure, he intended to pass that day and part of the night in hearing a relation of what he desired so much to know. As soon as he went thither, he expressed his desires of being alone with Thrasibulus, so that every one did leave him the liberty of Conference; and as soon as Cyrus saw this opportunity, he said very obligingly unto him; Well, my old Conqueror, said he, will you suffer yourself to be overcome, and acquaint me with all the circumstances of that life which as far as I know of it is most glorious? You will not say as much of the rest when you know it, replied Thrasibulus and sighed; for Sir, you will only find two things in it; that is, much weakness, and much misfortune: Yet since it is your pleasure to have it so, and since indeed it concerns the present condition of my affairs that you know it, therefore I shall very exactly obey you: But can you endure Sir, the relation of so many trivial passages, which must needs be very impertinent unto you, and indeed very inconsiderable unto any who knows not what belongs to love? Praise them not, trivial and inconsiderable, replied Cyrus, when they concern my friends, and when my dear Thrasibulus, (said he, and sighed also) I am not ignorant of that misery whereof I think you complain; tell it therefore, I conjure you, and know that I have leisure enough to hear it, though it take up all the day, and night also: for since there is a truce with the King of Armenia, I have little other employment, and since nights are but tedious, and restless unto me. Thrasibulus then seeing his opportunity, and knowing that it was requisite Cyrus should be acquainted with his past adventures, considering the present condition of his fortune, was most willing to obey him; and taking their seats, he began thus.  

The History of THRASIBULUS, and ALCIONIDA.  
HAd I a Soul as sensible of ambition as love; I do not think it had been possible to endure all those misfortunes which have fallen upon me: But since I ever thought it a greater glory to merit Crowns, then possess them; I stood in need of all my constancy, since I was not tormented with that proud passion, which has razed and ruined all the Monarchies, and Republics in the world. And though I am sensible of the loss of that Sovereignty which belonged unto me, yet did I not give myself over unto despair and sorrow for it, but only as this loss was an obstacle unto my love: so that it may almost be said, I never was sensible of ambition until I began to be in love. But to acquaint you Sir, with those miseries I have suffered both in my fortune, and in my love, Give me leave to tell you, that I am the Son of Thrasibulus, Prince of Miletes, whose name I bear, who as long as he lived was an intimate friend of Periander, King of Corinth, and whose name was very notable as long as he lived, for the wars which waged for eleven years together against Sadiattes, the little son of Gyges', and against Alliates, father of Craessus, which he finished with too much good fortune, wisdom, and honour, to be related in a few words, and since that which followed after was the foundation of all my miseries. This war, Sir, was the more considerable, since it was begun during the Reign of Gyges', when he usurped the Crown from Heraclidus: for since that Ardis who succeeded him, did keep it from him, as likewise Sadiattes his Son after him, and as now Alliates does the same. The Prince my father, then being very busy in the beginning of his Reign to establish in his house that Sovereign Authority which belonged unto him: he could not during the first years of his War against Sadiattes, with all the forces he had resist him, because he had many enemies within the Town; and not daring to go out of it, left in his absence a seditious party should gather to a head in it, Sadiattes was absolute Master of the field, and continued his wars for six years together, in a very strange manner: for without making any attempts against the Town, he brought every year in the Harvest time a very vast Army of Foot into the Milesians Country, and without any burning of houses, or destroying Towns, he only carried away all their corn, and fruits, and stayed no longer in the Country. Since my father was stronger at Sea, he saw it was in vain to attempt any thing against Miletes, since it could not be famished: but his hopes were, that the Milesians being forced to buy their corn of strangers, and money growing scant amongst them, than they would revolt from their Prince: But for all this, my father would not draw out of the Town, until such time as he saw himself absolute Master of his people, saying, That the Sea would bring him corn, when as nothing would bring him Miletes if it were once lost. Afterwards when by fears he had made the people absolutely to submit unto him, he drew into the field presently after the death of Sadiattes, and the new King of Lydia made war after another manner. The Prince my Father, without the assistance of any, unless them of the Isle of Chios, (who remembered the aids which he lent them when the Erithreans made war upon them) was in a condition to fight that famous Battle of Limenia, and afterwards that upon the Banks of the River Meander, where with his own hand he killed the Prince of Phocians Son. And since these two battles were bloody unto both sides, and the victory dubious, they gave a stop unto the progress of Alliattes, who despairing of absolute victory, according to his hopes, did upon his return set fire unto a great field of corn, whose flames did not only consume the corn, but by the greatness of the wind did set the Temple of Minerva on fire, and entirely consumed it. This sad accident did trouble the people of Miletes, more than it did the King of Lydia. But within a while after, that Prince falling sick, and sending to consult with the Oracle of Delphos, the Pythian told the Lydians, that she would return them no answer, until they had rebuilt the Temple of Minerva which they had burned. Periander, who knew of this answer, sent to advertise the King my Father, that he might make the best use he could of it, so that a while after when the Lydian Ambassadors came to ask leave, that they might rebuild the Temple, my father commanded all the Inhabitants of Miletus to bring all the provisions of corn that were in the Town, and to set them down in the public place of sale, where the Ambassadors of Lydia were to pass: which being done according to his command, and the Ambassadors making a report of what they had seen unto their Master, they caused him absolutely to despair of ever overcoming my father; and since they saw the Milesians themselves were able to make war with four Kings at once, they offered them very advantageous and glorious conditions of peace: Alliattes than caused two Temples in lieu of one to be rebuilt, and afterwards recovering his health, he became a very intimate friend of my fathers, who since that pacification was a very quiet Possessor of his Dominions, notwithstanding the several secret factions which he knew was amongst his Subjects: for he was very constant, bold, and politic, one that made every one to fear him, and one who defeated all manner of conspiracies against him: This being the state of things, he lived a long time in great tranquillity, and Miletus was questionless one of the most magnificent Towns of all Cairo. I was then about the age of thirteen, or fourteen; and a natural Son unto the Prince my father, called Alexidesmus, was some seventeen, or eighteen years of age: since he was the son of a Concubine, whom my father did highly affect, he loved him exceeding well, and educated him with the same care he did me. Since the Princess my mother died, when I was very young, and the Prince my father did enfranchise and marry that mother of Alexidesmus, that illegitimate Prince had a powerful upholder which I was deprived of; for that woman was of a witty and subtle spirit, and one that was capable of any thing: about the same time it was, that the wise Thales, so famous every where, returned from his long voyage cut of Egypt, where Solon was then Resident; and he took so great affection unto me, as I can well boast without any vanity, that I am beholding unto his sapient precepts for that little virtue which I have: had I made as good use of them as I ought, doubtless I should not have been so unfortunate as I am: for he always read so many lessons against love, and against marriage unto me, that had I followed his advice, I should at least have prevented one part of my misery. The principal rule which he taught for the order of life, was, never to do that thing which we would condemn in another: But though he taught me the lesson over and over an hundred times, yet did I not keep close unto his document: for though I have often condemned others for suffering themselves to be so far captivated by beauty, as to lose their tranquillity, I myself am so deeply plunged in the snares of love, that I even lost my reason. But since the miseries of my fortune did precede those of my love, it is therefore fit, I first tell you, Sir, that Melasia (so was the mother of Alexidesmus called, whom my father had married since the death of my mother) did project a marriage for her Son with a Milesian Lady, who was extreme rich, and of high quality: This at the first seemed very strange unto the world, for every one thought that I ought to be first thought upon: But yet since the Prince my father did favour the design, none durst make the least murmur, and Alexidesmus continued his address without any obstacle: for though this Lady, whose name was Leonia, whose father was dead, and she at the disposition of her mother, had no fancy unto Alexidesmus, yet she concealed it by the command of her mother: and indeed (if it be lawful to speak sincerely of a man who was the causer of all my misery) Alexidesmus was far from amiable, for he had the violent humours of my father, but he wanted his wit, his resolution, and an hundred other good qualities which he was owner of: on the contrary, he was extremely choleric, cruel, ambitious, weak and bold both together: as for his person, it was reasonable handsome, and there was a great difference between his body, and his mind: yet since Melasia had the heart of the Prince her Husband at command, he would not see the faults of her Son, or at least seemed as if he knew them not: for he was continually cherishing and flattering him up, and made no distinction between me and him, though I dare boldly affirm, I was free from many vices which they winked at in him. The mother of Leonia was Sister unto the Prince of Phoceus, whose Son, as I told you before, my father killed, at the last battle against the King of Lydia, so that in her heart she hated our house: yet notwithstanding the Prince of Phoceus being all ambition, he sent he● word, that if she could so contrive it, that Alexidesmus should reign, and I disinherited, that then she should consent unto this match, but otherwise not so much as to think upon it. This Lady being ambitious as well as her Brother, and holding a great correspondency with Melasia, did so cunningly break the business unto her, that there was no question but to find a suitable compliance between two women of one and the same disposition, both of then did quickly understand the desires of each other, since the same ambition did inflame them: so that no longer hiding the matter, they plotted together how they might make Alexidesmus Reign, and concluded to bring it about, though at the rate of many crimes committed.  
Whilst things were thus transacting, the Prince my Father finished that good strong Citadel in Miletus; and I was continually busied either in my exercises, or in the conversation of Thales, or else diverting myself in such delights as were fit for a Prince of my age: I carried myself with all civility to wards Melasia and Alexidesmus, but I do ingeniously confess that my aversion to them both was so great, that I had much ado to dissemble it: All this while the marriage of Leonea went slowly on: for since the Prince of Phoceus would see some appearance of his hopes before he would consent unto it, his Sister whose name was Philodicea did cunningly protract it; neither could he bring it about soon, because they of Prienna being forced to declare War against Polycrates Prince of Samos, who would needs be King of the Sea, and fight with all he met, my father thought, that is common policy he was bound to oppose this new Sovereignty, since he had a good pretence unto it, and set forth a great Nevy of Ships, of which he was constrained to make me Admiral, because he could not handsomely do otherwise, since he would not go himself in person unto this War. Not but that I was very young for such an employment, being then but fifteen years of age; but since my Lieutenant General was a man of great experience, he was to manage the business, and I only to have the honour of the Title, neither do I know whether I should have had that if Alexidesmus had not fallen sick, so that he could not go this Voyage. The Prince Philoxipeses, who was then about my age, and the Prince Tisunder, being both of them moved with a desire of glory, came and took our parts, and carried themselves most heroiquely in this War, which proved not very prosperous unto us; for the Fortune of Polycrates was so great, that nothing could refin him: yet may I truly say without a boast, that though we were sometimes worsted, yet was it not without glory; and though we were not so fortune as to conquer, yet we showed our Enemies that we deserved it. At the last a Peace was concluded by the mediation of sage Bits; who to that end went from Prienna unto Samos, though it lasted not long, since it was impossible to tie up Polycrates from roving at Sea, and assaulting almost all he met. At my return to Milete, I found the marriage of Alexidesmus and Leonea almost concluded: for during my absence, Melasia and Philodicea had cajolled with the chief of that faction in the Town who were opposite unto the wise Thales, who though he was a great Lover of his Country's Liberty, yet would he not buy it at the rate of any violent courses, oftentimes saying, that a Tyrant who governed his Subjects in Peace was better than that Liberty which was bought at the price of a War. But there were some of another faction, who transacted upon other principles, and after another manner: for conceiving that the Prince my Father had usurped an Authority which did not belong unto him, and desiring to reduce the Government into a Popularity, and to prevent his Successors from reigning after him, see how they argued the matter amongst themselves, without acquainting Melasia and Philodicea with it, though they were all of the Conspiracy. They thought, that as long as the Prince my father lived, there was no thoughts of recovering their Liberty, but all their design was how to carry things after he was dead: These men took notice how the people of Milete did extremely affect me, and seeing by my inclinations that my Reign would be mild and sweet, they conceived it would be very difficult to make the people shake off their obedience; but on the contrary, foreseeing plainly that it Alexidesmus should Reign, he would prove the most cruel, violent and tyrannique Prince in they world, they thought it would be a most easy business to induce the people to revolt, and to shake off a weak and wicked Master: so that in hopes this way to ruin sovereign Power, the promised Melasia and Philodicea, that when it was fit time, they would set Alexidesmus in the Throne: so that these two women were ignorant of their principles; but however they were even ravished with joy, to see their design like to prosper according to their wish; and therefore the Marriage between Alexidesmus and Leonea must be solemnised without any longer delay, and a Feast is prepared in Milete for it; at which the Prince of Phocius, seeming to forget the death of his Son, was present: and for a Month's time, nothing but public rejoicings and Sports were to be found amongst all those who were not of this close design: Every one did think it strange the Prince my father should marry Alexidesmus before me, since by usual course he who was to be his Successor, should first be thought upon: But since it was not the custom to murmur at whatsoever he did, all the Town seemed to be very jocund. I seeing which way things were like to be carried, consulted with wise Thales, who always told me, that what the Gods had ordained, must needs come to pass, and therefore the best course would be to submit unto their Providence. The state of things standing upon these terms, and the Prince my father thinking himself the happiest man upon Earth, Periander, King of Corinth, who at that time found no very exact obedience from his Subjects, did send unto him to ask, what would make a King that was but ill obeyed, to live quietly in his Dominions? The Prince my father, who naturally was of a jealous disposuion, and one of whose principal Maxims was, to trust asecret unto as few as possible, and to put nothing to hazard, in lieu of writing unto Periander, or giving any answer unto the Messenger, he carried him to walk in a great Meadow, and through a great field of Corn ready to reap (for it was that time of the year) and said unto him, Tell the King your Master what you see me do in this Corn field, and tell him that's my answer. The Messenger, who knew not the Contents of their Letter which he brought, began to observe very exactly what the Prince did, who as he walked along the field of Corn as if he were in a deep study, did break of those ears of Corn which grew higher than the rest, and meddled not with those whose weight did bend them down to the ground: Whatsoever this Messenger might think upon this action, yet he could not comprehend the meaning, but resolved to tell his Master what he had seen: yet since it seemed something odd, and of small consequence, after the Prince my father was entered into the Town, and this Envoy gone to his lodging, he could not choose but tell the matter unto a man of Milate, whom he thought to be his very good friend, and one who promised him not to speak of it: But as soon as he was gone, this man told another, and that other told his friend, and that friend told another friend, and he unto the chief of the Conspirators against me: As this man was of a subtle wit, and knew very well the state of the Corinthian Affairs, and who moreover understood from Melasia that Periander had sent to ask counsel of my father concerning some important business, did well enough interpret the riddle, and easily understood, that the breaking those highest ears of Corn, was as much as to say, that he must pull down the Grandees of his Dominioes', who he thought did aspire above their quality. So that fearing lest this lesson which was taught unto Periander, should be executed upon himself if ever the Prince of Milete should come to discover his Plot, he told those of the Combination, that it was requisite they put their plot in execution sooner than once they intended: But it was a long while before they could act their intentions, so that I had leisure to go into that War, wherein Leontidas served Polycrates, of which he told you in his Relation at Sinope. But during my absence Anthemius (so was the chief of the Conspirators called) did so cunningly manage his business, that he induced Melasia to think that the Prince my father lived too long, for since the vices of Alexidesmus did every day grow higher, the Prince began to make some difference between him and me: And Philadicea, who saw that her daughter would be most unhappy in the person of her husband, yet her ambition was her comfort, and she continually pressed Melasia to move the Prince unto a Declaration in behalf of Alexidesmus, telling her that it was easily done, and that there did need no more but to publish unto the world, that she was his first legitimate wife, and that the Princess my Mother was never so, and so by consequence Alexidesmus being the elder, it was his Right to Reign, and also to tell the Prince my Father, that it was expedient to see it settled so whilst he lived. Melasia promised she would, and indeed did move my Father unto it; but he would never give her a direct answer; so that her spirit being exasperated, she consulted with Anthemius. The Prince of Phocius also came again to Milete, to consult afresh with the said Anthemius and Melasia; and the result of the Counsels was, to poison my Father during my absence, and cause Alexidesmus to be proclaimed Sovereign: The Prince of Phocius said further, that he made no question but I had many friends, yet since I was not in the Town, they would not be over violent in my behalf; and to prevent the worst, he said, he would cause a good strong party to enter into Milete secretly: Anthemius wished it otherwise, because he desired to introduce Liberty upon the death of the Prince, yet he durst not openly oppose it, lest he should render himself suspected, and discover the plot which he hatched in his heart.  
The wise Thales, though very busy at his study, yet had intelligence that some plot or other was in agitation, so that hearing of a Ship which the Prince my Father sent with Ammunition, he writ a short Letter unto me, wherein he intimated that my presence was very necessary at Milete, but since he could not imagine at what end the pernicious plots of Melasia, Philodicea, the prince of Phocius, and Anthemius, did aim, he writ no more unto me, hoping that I would come time enough to disperse all factions. In the mean while, the four persons did almost all of them transact by several principles; for the prince of Phocius did principally aim at revange; Melasia and Philodicea sought to satisfy their ambition; and Anthemius aimed at the Liberty of his Country. But, Sir, why should I trouble you thus long with the miseries of my house? To be short therefore, let me tell you, that Melasia poisoned my Father, and published a Declaration, by which Alexidesmus was acknowledged for his Successor: The prince of Phocius was in Milete with a commanding power; Anthemius acknowledged Alexidesmus for his Prince, and after his example others also: Those friends I had in Town would have taken up Arms; the people in general murmured; but the party of Anthemius and Phocius had the sword in their hands, and were the stronger: When I arrived at Milete, they would not permit me entrance; and since my Navy had been much weatherbeaten, I was in the most pitiful condition that ever was Prince: But sending about two hour after to know the reason, Alexidesmus sent me a counterfeit Declaration, which he had forged in my Father's name, and as soon as it was dark, the wise Thales did let me understand the truth of all things by a fisherman, who came by water: So that in one day I heard of my Father's death, the loss of my Dominion, the Treason of my Brother, and Revolt of my Subjects, and all this without any power to help it. My Ships were much torn; I was not in a condition to attempt any thing, having not men enough to attempt any thing against Milete either by Sea or Land; nor knew I well how to get away from the Town, considering the disorder which this affront had infused into my Fleet. The wise Thales did further send me his advice, and conjored me not to ruin my Country for my own private Interest; but to stay until time, my friends, the debanchedness of Alexidesmus, and the Gods, did revenge my quarrel, and re-establish me in my Dominions: for without all doubt the Gods were so just, as they would in fit time punish my enemies, and recompense my virtue, if I were so patient as to make good use of my misfortune. When I first received this advice, I did much wonder at it, and I confess it was something difficult to follow it; so follow it; so that it was necessity rather than choice which made me follow his counsel. However, the Sea being very serene, although my Ships were in a very bad condition, yet I endeavoured to put in at one of the next Islands, and there to accommodate myself: yet did secretly send a Declaration into Milete, by which I let all my Subjects know, that the pretended Declaration of the Prince my Father was forged, and that Alexidesmus was not only a Rebel and an Usurper, but that Melasia his Mother poisoned her husband purposely to make her son to reign. Since this Crime was horrid in the highest degree, every one would not believe it, but imagined that it was only my politic scandal to render them the more odious. But since misfortunes seldom come alone, I was no sooner in the open Sea, but a tempestuous storm began to size, and within two hours all my Fleet was dispersed: The angry Billows wafted some of my Ships into the very Port of Milete; dashed others against the Rocks, and split them; some sunk into the bottomless Abyss; and I only with three Ships remained struggling with the wind and waves: I thought a hundred times that it was impossible but I must needs perish, and I did as often render thanks unto the Gods that I was not to survive my misfortunes: But against my wish, it was my fate to live, and after a whole day and nights most dismal Tempest I was cast upon the Isle of Chios, where I landed, and was permitted only to reaccommodate my Ships: for since those Islanders did know of the Alteration in Milete, they were afraid that if they should harbour me long in their Ports, than the Mileteans might have a pretence of War against them. And thus Sir I found the proverb true, That those find the fewest places of retreat who stand most in need of them, and unfortunate men seldom find sanctuaries from those who are not so themselves. It was in vain to stay in hopes that any of my Ships would return; for whether they all perished, or were driven by the Tempest far off, or forsook me, and returned to Milete, I know not; but I am sure I never heard any news of them: Two only of those three which remained were fit to sail, and the third was no sooner ready, but I resolved for Lestos, to try whether that friendship which I had contracted with Tisander son unto sage Pittacus Prince of Mitibines, would entertain me in spite of my misfortunes. This generous Friend receive me with abundance of kindness, and induced the Prince his Father also to respect me with as high honours as if I were in full possession of my Dominions. In this Court I flayed a long time, and sent unto Periander King of Corinth for some aid: but his hands were so full at home, by reason of some opposite Factions amongst his Grandees, that he was in no condition to assist me. The Prince Polycrates was at peace with Alexidesmus; so likewise were they of Prienne: The Prince of Phoceus also was for him, and engaged all those of his alliance to the like: So that I saw no possibility of effecting any thing with those succours which the Prince of Mytilenes only could afford me. I understood likewise by that intelligence which I ever held with Thales, how he had discovered that Anthemins, who seemed so jealous in behalf of Alexidesmus, did privately animate the people against this Usurper: so that there was much reason to believe, there would ere long be some fresh alteration in Milete. My best course than was, not to incense the people by bringing a War upon them, but to prepare myself in a readiness to enter the Town whensover any favourable occasion should be offered. Thus was I forced to sit still, and wait for the future success of my fortunes; but I must confess it was with so melancholy a mind, that nothing was able to divert me: And there was one thing which did double my misery, which was, that the Prince Tisander was as unfortunate as myself: for be pleased to know Sir, that he had above two years loved, in a most violent and desperate manner, that famous Lady which you saw at Lesbos, when we met there together, but he could never obtain so much as a favourable look from her, though he courted her with all possible inviting allurements which usually move affection. Since the admired Sappho, of whom I speak, was a miracle of wit, beauty, and affability, I could not blame him for esteeming her above all the world; yet since I never had been in love myself, I did extremely condemn him for being as melancholy as myself. But Sir, it is not the History of this Prince which I intent to relate: I shall only thus far tell you, that he being past all hopes of ever moving the heart of this Lesbian Beauty, he desired me to be the Companion of his Exile, and to travel with him over all those Seas which were not far remote from Milete, in hope that absence would be his cure. Since, in this disgrace wherein I lived, all places were indifferent unto me, I easily consented unto his desire: So that colouring our departure as well as we could, we left Lesbos, and committed ourselves unto Fortune. All our discourse was commonly disputes of ambition and love, and each of us maintained his opinion according to the suggestions of his heart: We had two Ships besides that in which we were; but presently after we had only that, for meeting the Prince Polisrates, who was much stronger than we, he took the other two from us, and all we were able to do was to escape out of his hands. This accident did extremely incense me, and (if I may use the phrase) first moved me to turn a Pirate: for it begot in me so hot a desire to regain what I had lost, that we resolved to fall upon all we met, that would not render themselves, conceiving it as lawful for us as for Polisrates to make prizes of what we could. In less than a Month's time we made above twenty Combats, and I presently got the name of a Pirate: as for the Prince Tisander, he would not be known in any place were e'er we came. It may, I confess, be said I was a Pirate, but now am none: for since my design was only to get a small Fleet by my courage, I only retained the Ships and such of the men as would willingly serve me, and only as much as would sustain us. We took three Ships from the Prince of Phoceus my Enemy, which did beyond all expressions joy me; and at the first Isle we came at, I set the men on Land, and took others in their room: This did revive my hopes, since I began to conquer my Enemies. I understood from these Phocean Mariners, that their Prince would ere long imbatque, and go by the Euxine Bridge unto the Town of Appolonia, so that resolving to intercept his passage, I returned from whence I came, and it was then, Sir, when I met with you as you were sailing from Corinth to Ephosus: Since my design was to fight the Prince of Phoceus, whom they said would come with six Sail, I resolved to set upon yours, and gain it if I could. Yet to speak the truth, you disputed that Victory with so much courage, as it may truly be said that number did overcome you, and that your valour notwithstanding was victorious. But Sir, will you give me leave to tell you, how that valiant man who fought with you in the Sea after you were both fallen in, and whom I took up with you in a little Boat, was this same Tisander who is now in my Tent, and who would not permit me to discover him unto you all the while you was in my Ship?  
How, generous Thrasibulus, (said Cyrus, and interrupted his story,) is he whom I fought withal, and who certainly had overcome me if you had not been, is he here? Then let me entreat you at my request to redouble your cares of him, for I do not think there is a more valiant man in the whole world than he: But I beseech you go on with the Relation of his Life, which is as tender to me as my own. When Thrasibulus had admired the high generosity of Cyrus, in interesting himself as he did in the preservation of that man who had so furiously disputed with him for the Victory, he continued his Discourse in this manner.  
I will not bring into your memory, Sir, any more passages of that Adventure, because I know your modesty will not permit it: but give me leave to tell you, that when I landed at Lesbos, it was to set Tisander on shore, who had received two wounds from you, less in appearance then those two you received from him, but much longer, and more difficult to be healed. Then Sir, according to my intended design, I carried you to the Euxine Bridge, where I had the good fortune to encounter him I was in quest of, to wit, the Prince of Pheceus; for indeed, it was he, Sir, against whom you fought, and whom you vanquished, for certainly without you I had been vanquished: But as fortune was, he was not in any of those three Ships which we took, but by a miracle of Fate escaped: Then Sir, after you refused those two Ships which I did present unto you, because indeed they belonged unto you more than unto me, and after that you were pleased to accept but of one of them; that same Tempest which did rise within six hours after we parted, and which as I understood afterwards, did drive you some two days after upon the Port of Sinope, that same wind, I say, which drove you that way, did also by a prodigious blast, drive me the contrary, and carried me into the Hellispont, and afterwards caused me to pass between Lemnos, and Lesbos, then forced me more upon the left hand, until I touched upon the Isle of Chio, and after upon the Coasts of Guides, so well known by that Isthmus which shoots itself so far into the Sea, as if that neck of land did join it unto the Continent.  
Hitherto, Sir, you may be pleased to look upon the most happy time of my life, for amongst my misfortunes, I always enjoyed some happiness, either in the friendship of the wise Thales, or in the sweet society of Tisander, or yours: But since the day that I arrived at Gnides, nothing but miserable misfortunes were my lot; for be pleased to know that just upon the point of this Isthmus, whither the Tempest had driven me alone, (all my other Ships being dispersed by the storm) there stands a very strong Castle, which is the greatest defence of this Isle; A man of good quality, whose name was Euphranor, and who was one of the Council of Sixty which governs that Republic, did command in that Castle when I came thither. This man, to my good fortune as then I thought, was upon the top of a Tarrass, and from that height did see how the impetuous winds did dash me against the bottoms of the walls; so that out of his civil humanity, he sent presently unto all the Mariners in the Port to assist me, and he took especial care to know in what condition my Ship was, which indeed was the very same in which he had formerly commanded: for he saw it to be a man of War, and one of the goodliest and biggest that ever was seen in those Seas, and indeed it was the same I fought in against Polycrates, and in which I had the happiness of your company. Some Mariners which knew my ship, told him I was that famous Pirate, who had a long time kept those Seas, and who never used to take any money or merchandise, but only men and ships; assuring him also that they knew me very well, and once saw me assault a ship whilst they escaped. But being informed by others at the same time, who came to see me, that I had not the Garb of a Pirate: that my ship which was much weatherbeaten, and that it would be a long time before I could be in a condition to depart from Gnides; he sent order, either out of curiosity to know who I was, or else for the security of his Fort, to bring me unto him. Since I knew it was the custom of all Garrisons to do the like, and since I resolved not to make myself known, I willingly obeyed, and only one man of quality in Milete, called Leosthenes, who would never forsake me, and three more of my own men followed me: I was brought unto Euphranor in a great Gallery, where several people were walking with him: he spoke unto me very ingeniously and civilly; he asked me from whence I came, and whither my intention was to go; he did also put many questions unto me to discover the truth of my answers: Unto which I replied so readily, as I did not fully give him satisfaction: for I answered, that though I should tell him my name, yet would it be unknown unto him: that I came from the Euxine Bridge upon some important occasions, but knew not whither I went when the Tempest did drive me upon that Coast, however I acknowledged myself bound unto his generosity in sending his men to relieve me, and my ship, which if he had not done, I had certainly perished. Whilst I was thus speaking unto Euphranor, I observed how all the men in the Gallery with him flocked about me with a prejudicated opinion that I was a Pirate: Since there are only four languages spoken amongst all the jonians, and they much resembling one another, so that whosoever understood one might understand all the rest, we understood one another very well; there being but little difference between the language of Milete, and that of Guides, only in the accent, for both were Greeks. But, Sir, amongst those which came about me, I saw four or five Ladies of handsome Garb; amongst the rest, the daughter of Euphranor was the fairest that ever eye beheld; and since she was more curious than the rest, to see a Pirate, which I heard her say, she had never seen before; she came nearer to me then the rest, and I did salute her with more submissive reverence than I did the rest, unto whom I only bowed myself in general without any particular application: But unto Alcionida, (for that was the name of that beauty) I addressed myself with as much humble reverence as if a Divinity had been present. Whilst I was in conference with Euphranor, me thought I heard her say unto her companions, that I had not the Garb and Air of a Pirate, as they had formerly described Pirates unto her; so that to confirm her in that good opinion of me, I endeavoured to answer Euphranor with all the ingenuity that possible I could, and indeed he was so well pleased with me, that in lieu of the quality of a Pirate, which is never admitted into their Ports, he very favourably offered me his assistance, and told me, that I might stay in Gnides as long as I pleased to trim up my ship: after this, I retired, holding discourse as long as handsomely I could; to the end I might the longer look upon the wonder of Beauty, Alcionida. But at the last I went out of the Gallery, and returned unto my ship: But since it leaked in very many places, I was forced to lodge in the Town; at the end of which, this Castle was built, still retaining in my fancy the perfect Idea of this divine beauty which I had seen. The next morning, I went unto that famous Temple of Gnidenian Venus, where I found the divine Alcionida, and so charming and amiable, that I changed colour when I saw her. Since I wore that day a very rich Suit of clothes, she hardly knew me, yet recalling my face into her memory presently after, she answered my salute very civilly; since she was then with her mother, and since I passed but under the notion of a Pirate, I durst not accost her, but conceived it fit to ask leave before I addressed myself unto her: I conceived it fit to go and thank Euphranor, and give him a ceremonious visit: I went unto him the very next morning, and my discourse was so suitable unto his disposition, that he acknowledged himself to be very glad of mine acquaintance: After I parted from him, I bethought myself, that commonly, Presents with men, have the same operation that Sacrifices have with the Gods, and therefore I presented him with an admirable Sword, the hilt of which was gold, and set with precious stones, full of most rare workmanship; for it was done by the hand of that famous Philosopher, and Arts-master, whose skill in Gold-works none could imitate. Euphranor was much taken with this magnificent Present, and received it with much delight: In the mean while, I was so charmed with the sight of Alcionida, that I forgot all necessary orders for the triming up of my ship, and left the care of it wholly unto Leosthenes: I should stay alone in my Chamber, and contemplate upon nothing but the divinity of her beauty: I should stand a whole hour in a pleasing study, and think upon the sweetness of her looks, the pureness of her complexion, the excellent composure in every part of her face, and of the modesty which appeared in all her actions, and the sweetness of her mind which appeared in her Physiognomy: But after I had long stood in such contemplative muse, I should upon a sudden wonder to find myself so employed; I (I say) who ever since the death of my father had a mind continually full of revenging thoughts, and hatred, thinking upon nothing but how to regain what I had lost: I confess, this alteration astonished me, and was much ashamed of so much weakness in myself; I resolved to take another course, aond to send for permission to visit the wife of Euphranor, whose name was Phedima: for, said I unto myself, I must not expose myself unto so great a danger as to look upon so charming a beauty as Alcionida; for I scarce saw her above one minute, but I forgot all my enemies, what then would become of me if I should discourse with her, and give her time to captivate my heart? yet in a moment after I laughed at my own fears, and believed, that to quench my kindling flames, there did need no more, but to desire I should not love Alcionida, and that would smother it up: others, said I, who are entangled with this kind of passion, are themselves in the fault, because they do not check and stifle it at the first, but I for my part shall take another course, and I will go and see Alcionida, with a firm settled resolution only to admire, but never to love her. Thus Sir, thinking myself sufficiently armed against the charms of this admirable beauty, I sent after dinner to ask leave that I might visit her, and it was granted unto me. I went then, and took Leosthenes only with me, but spoke not a word unto him all the way. Sir, said he unto me, and laughed, you are too much reserved for the visit of Ladies. I laughed at the observation of Leosthenes, and knowing no reason why I should acquaint him with the cause, I gave him no answer, but seemed as if I understood him not. I went then into the Castle which was very near, and Phedima received me very civilly. The admirable Alcionida also was so charmingly sweet unto me, that I had all the motives possible to commend her: Since there was many Ladies there when I came in; after the first compliments were passed, Phedima addressed herself unto those she was in discourse with before I entered: and since I had the honour to be next Alcionida, I had occasions given me to observe that her soul was as full of beauty, as her face: and I believe never any had a more charming discourse than she, for she did speak as much as possible could be to divert her hearers: she equally spoke well of every thing, and kept herself within the limits of Lady's knowledge; and would not discourse of things too high, and above the sphere of her understanding: her eloquence was excellent, but natural, and came freely, and unpumpt for, from her: and though she was of the talkative Sex, yet she could be discreetly silent, and lend a willing ear unto any that spoke, though never so far from the purpose; so complacential she was, and wise, and judicious; so that according to this description of her, you may easily imagine, that she would permit me to speak unto her; and was so good as to return her answers. After much common and indifferent discourse, in which all the company did intermix, she very obligingly told me, that I was something beholding unto her for the opinion which she had of me before she knew me: For (said she unto me) it was ofttimes my diversion, when the Sea was highly incensed, to look out, and see the mountainous waves dash against our Rocks: and it happened, that as I was looking out of my Closet, I saw how the wind did beat your Ship against the foot of the Castle; and when I saw that all within were ready to perish, I confess my heart did beat, and I prayed unto the Gods for your preservation: Since therefore my first thoughts of you were well wishes and pity, therefore I say you are a little beholding unto me. Is it then, Madam, unto your prayers that I owe my safety? said I unto her; than it is to you that I must address my thanks. It is unto the Gods, and not to me, replied she, that you are to render thanks; and I can claim no more but a slight commendation for pitying you before I knew who you were: and I know that when I met you this morning in the Temple, doubtless you thanked the Goddess of that place for your preservation. It is most true, said I unto her, that I went thither to that purpose, for than I did not know that it was unto your prayers that the Goddess was propitious; and at this time I do not at all wonder that the Goddess of Beauty should grant the desires of the fairest Lady in the world: But Madam, perhaps now you know me, you repent of that favour you did me when you did not know me. I know not why, replied she, unless appearances be very fallacious, I should repent of my pity, since miseries are apt to move all unto it, especially my sex, and since you seem to be of another quality than I thought you to be. Oh Madam (said I unto her) I do conjure you not to change your opinion of me. It seems then by your discourse, replied she, that you rank yourself in the number of miserable and unfortunate men. Yes Madam, replied I, the most of any man living, not only in relation to those misfortunes which have already fal● upon me, but also in respect of those which in probability will hereafter happen. You are too ingenious to persecute yourself, said she, in grieving for that which perhaps may happen; and for my part I do confess unto you, that I do equally condemn those that build their happiness upon hopes only of being so, and those who are miserable only out of future fears. There are a sort of men in the world (said I unto her, and smiled) whose joys and sorrows do consist only in hopes and fears. I have heard as much, replied she, and smiled as well as I, but for for your part, you cannot be acquainted with any misfortunes of these kinds, since living continually at Sea, you have nothing to hope for but a gentle gale, nor any thing to fear but a furging Tempest. Pirates (replied I in such a tone and after such a manner as might make her think I was not one) are not originally out of the Sea as your Goddess is, but they are born upon Land as others are; and indeed Madam, said I and blushed, my Shipwreck may tell you, that Pirates are not always amongst the waves. You give yourself a name, said she, which suits so ill with your discourse, that I do not think it belongs unto you. I do confess, said I unto her, that I have not always had that title, nor did I take it up myself, but since people bestow it upon me, I shall keep it until it please Fortune to take it away again.  
Thus did I hold the fair Alcionida in discourse until all those Ladies which were with her were making ready to depart, and I thought it long enough for my first visit: So that giving Phedima a Compliment of gratitude, and desiring the honour to visit her as long as I stayed at Gnides, I returned to my Lodging: Leosthenes, who all that while had only the company of a stupid blockhead, complained against the longness of my visit; but my mind was so taken up with my new passion, that I knew not well what he said, nor answered him much to the purpose; he judging therefore by my actions that I desired to be alone, left me and went unto the Port, to see whether the trimming up of our Ship went forward. I than was no sooner at liberty, but remembering my firm resolution which I had taken in going unto Alcionida, not to love her, I began to question myself whether I was free, or whether I was a captive? I examined my reason and my heart upon it; but oh Heavens! I found the first of these so engaged, and the other so prejudicated, that I was not a little amazed at it: I called for the aid of ambition, since I heard say, that Passion of all others was able to resist the power of Love; but all was in vain, and Ambition did submit unto Love: yet for all that she did not quite desert my heart; but on the contrary, notwithstanding the predominancy of Love, she redoubled all her strength; and I esteemed myself a hundred times more unfortunate in losing my Dominions since I knew Alcionida then before, because now I looked upon my misfortunes as an invincible obstacle unto the happy success of my new passion. If I were absolute Sovereign in Milete, said I, I might almost be certain to obtain the favour of this fair one: but since I am an Exile, and passing for a Pirate, I can never have any hopes in pretending to any share in her affection; and I must prepare myself to suffer all the torments that both Love and Ambition can inflict upon me. Moreover, what will the wise Thales say unto me? what will the King of Corinth think? what imaginations will the Prince of Mytilenes have? and what censures shall I incur from all the Princes and people of Jonia in particular, and from all Greece in general? when they shall understand that a Prince unjustly driven out of his Dominions, abused by his Enemies, betrayed by his own Subjects, and deposed by a Bastard; a Prince, I say, who should think upon nothing but revenge and honour, and not suffer himself to be weakly overcome by the fair eyes of Alcionida without any resistance. Resist then, for shame, said I unto myself, and do not yield myself a Captive without a Combat. But, oh Heavens! (said I presently after,) what Arms should I use against her? what can I think or do, not to love her? Can I discover any blemish in her beauty? or can I find any fault in her mind? and can I suspect that her Soul is not so generous as her face is fair, and her wit is charming? Let me try if any thing can cure me: Let me visit her daily, and keep a close observant eye upon her, and inquire whether this fair one, who doubtless is beloved of all that know her, do not also love some one or other; and let me neglect nothing which may free me from that misery which torments me. Thus did I reason with myself, and could not contrive any other way to deliver myself, but by discovering some defects in this incomparable beauty, or else to find out that her heart was already engaged. The next day than I enquired with all possible diligence of what I desired to know, which I could with more ease do, because at the same Lodging where I did lie, there quartered also a man of good fashion, a stranger as well as myself, who had been at Gnides a long time to hearken after news, with him I did comply, to effect my desires the sooner: I understood then from him, that Alcionida was loved by all reasonable men which ever saw her, but none could ever move her heart; and he told me so many things in her Commendations, that I made no question but her Soul was as excellently fair as her face, and as great as her wit: Sometimes I despaired of finding any of those defects which I sought for; and sometimes again, my heart, whether I would or no, would extremely rejoice at the knowledge of her excellent perfections. I could not choose then but submit Sir, and love the fair Alcionida: but for all that, my hatred of the Prince of Phoceus, Alexidesmus, Melasia, Philodicea, and Anthemius, was not extinguished: on the contrary, I wished them worse than I did before, because the miserable condition into which they had brought me, was the obstacle in my love: So then, not neglecting my Milesian Affairs, I resolved to please Alcionida, if I could; so that I was not a little busily employed about it. Since Euphranor had some suspicion that I was not of that quality which I spoke myself, he always treated me very civilly, and took it kindly when I came to visit him; and the ofter I saw Alcionida, the more charming I found her, and me thought she did not look upon me as a Pirate; yet was I not at all the happier, for I knew she would not look upon me as a Lover: I oftentimes had a desire to hint something unto her which might make her guests my thoughts, but presently after I checked my design; and my fears to be ill used moved me to be content with her civilities to me, rather than to expose myself unto her anger: for said I unto myself, If I should acquaint her with my Passion, and not my Quality, she will treat me as a Pirate: Also if I should tell her the condition I am in, what hopes is there, that she should give any entertainment unto an Exile, and unfortunate Prince. In conclusion, I resolved to make her know I was in love with her, and that she should still think that I was not of that Quality I appeared in; but not to let her know directly that I was a Prince, which was thrust out of his Dominions, but it was so difficult a task to keep an even way as not to speak either too much, or too little, to infuse this knowledge into her, that I looked upon it as a business almost impossible, and lived a most vexatious life. Mean while Leosthenes, who had a bold and an attempting wit, fell into league with a Cousin of Alcionida's, who dwelled with her; and that so deep, as I wondered at it; for this woman was full of friendly expressions to him. 'Tis true, he had prepared her with many little presents which he bought privately in Gnides, and said he brought them out of a far Country, such as Essences, Powders, Perfumes, and such knacks; and since this woman was of free disposition, she imparted all that ever she knew unto Leosthenes.  
Upon a day then, as she was in discourse with him, she pressed and conjured him to tell her truly who I was; and since he imagined, that happily this curiosity did not proceed from herself, he pressed her as earnestly to tell him why she desired so much to know it: so that according to her usual freeness and ingenuity she told him, after she had made a mighty secret on it, that her reason was, because Alcionida had a great desire to know my quality; for she could not believe that I was really a Pirate. As good fortune was, Leosthenes answered her, as I would have appointed him if I had known of it; for he fretted and fumed, and answered so ambiguously, that he made her believe Alcionida was not mistaken. As Leosthenes had plainly perceived that I was deeply in love with Alcionida, so he thought it would please me in telling how inquisitively she had enquired who I was; and indeed the relation of it did so much joy me, that having no power to hide my passion, I discovered all my thoughts unto him, and made him my Confident: not that I thought him very fit for it, for his spirit was a little too insolent; but because, the truth was, I had no other to choose, and because I could not enclose the violence of my passion in so close a place as my own heart. Oh Heavens! how many pleasing minutes did this curiosity of Alcionida afford me? and how many fears did I apprehend, when I did imagine the knowledge of my misfortunes would bar me admittance into her heart? However, I did visit her every day, and every day I loved her more and more violently: The most powerful of her charms was, that all those vanities which usually young people are most taken up in were much below her: this alluring Lady did never do any thing as a diversion only: her dress was most ornamental, but so, as it did not require half a life to the putting it on, as most women use; her discourse was never upon any trivial vanities; moreover, all the Gold and Diamonds of the East, could never adulterate her mind; but she could at the first visit discern a complete man though in meanest habit, from a stupid Ass in the most magnificent clothes upon Earth; and notwithstanding his outward lustre, she would be so just unto real merit, that she would be more respective unto a very Pirate who was owner of good qualities, then unto a Prince who could boast of nothing but his vices. I finding then so much wisdom and virtue in this admirable Lady, how could I choose but love her. I remember, being one day with her, and leaning against the window in the end of a Gallery towards the Sea, whilst other Ladies were walking behind us; See (said she, and showed me the place where my Ship was bulged) yonder is the very place where you were like to suffer shipwreck. Pardon me, Madam (said I hastily unto her,) that is not the place where I was most like to perish; for indeed it is not so far off you. Truly (said she, and did not understand the mysterious meaning of my answer) you do not know so well as I do the place where your Ship was in most danger, for these eyes did see it at that time, but I believe you were so busy in giving order what to do in that extremity, that you did not observe the place. I know very well, Madam, said I unto her, that my shipwreck was like to have been in your presence, but yet for all that, those who are ready to perish, know the place better than any lookers on. For my part, said she and laughed, did I not conceive your Soul to be very resolute, I should think that fear might at that instant have a little disturbed your reason, for I can assure you, it was at the foot of that great Rock where you were in greatest danger. And I am most certain, replied I, and notwithstanding the respects which I owe you, I must maintain, that it was against this Rock against which I am most in danger, and not that which you speak of. Alcionida, being not accustomed to find me so full of contradiction, did then suspect there was some hidden sense in my words, and blushing at it, I am to blame, said she, to argue with you concerning a business of no importance; for since you escaped the danger, it is sufficient, and I may well be satisfied, without more discourse upon it: But truly, said she, and laughed still, those who say, a wise Pilot will never split twice upon one and the same Rock, do not know how difficult it is to prevent it, since you who seem so wise do not know the place where you were most in danger; however, let us speak no more upon this Subject, but fall upon something else which will better please you, and tell me I beseech you when your Ship will be ready to put to sail, for I do imagine you wish for your departure as much as all they who know you do wish your stay. I was much nonplussed at this question; for though it gave me a handsome opportunity to discover my thoughts unto her, yet there appeared in her eyes so much severity mixed with her sweetness, that I durst not reveal it: I only told her, that I thought it not possible to be very earnest in hasting away from that place where she was; and since common civility might well exact as much as I did say, she returned me as civil an answer; and all the rest of our Conference was such as this: I had been divers other times with her, and never durst expose myself unto her anger in declaring my love unto her; and I understood from Leosthenes, that since the first day, Alcionida never spoke a word to her Cousin concerning me. In the mean time, I deferred the mending of my Ship as long as handsomely I could; and I could have found in my heart a disposition to break some things which were whole, purposely to gain time: so that in lieu of three weeks, I made it six, that I stayed in the Port of Gnides. But at the last, the wise Thales, whom I had secretly advertised of the place where I was, did send me word, that there was a very seditious face upon things in Milete, and advised me to come thither; and then was I forced to depart, notwithstanding the interest of my Love: Moreover, since the repairing of my Ship was so long in hand, there was a report in Gnides, that I had some secret design in it, and Euphranor himself suspected something, as I understood by Leosthenes, and he from his Confident; giving it out, that as soon as he returned from his voyage of eight days, he would force me to explain myself. All these considerations therefore requiring my departure, and my Ship being ready, when Euphranor was to go his Journey, I took my leave of him, telling him that I should depart before his return, and beseeching him to believe, that if I did not die in a business about which I went, I would return, and make myself a little better known unto him. After his departure, I stayed four days still at Gnides: during which time, Alcionida who never had been in a Ship of War, no more than three or four of her friends, seemed very desirous to see mine; and I beseeched her to satisfy her curiosity in honouring me so far as to come into my Ship, the last afternoon I was to stay in that Port: and having obtained the promise of it with the permission of Phedima, I prepared to receive her with all possible magnificence, but yet with all the melancholy that a heart could be capable of. And when I seriously considered, I should within those four days see Alcionida no more; I was so grieved at the thought of it, that I was not able to order this intended Feast as I desired: but relied wholly upon the contrivance of Leosthenes, who did order it admirable well: for though the time of preparation was very short, yet was my Ship adorned with an hundred waving Flags of several colours, on which the name of Alcionida was written in gold, and silver, with variety of Mottoes. There was placed upon the Deck all manner of Sea music, such as might resemble the Tritons, and the Nereids; and besides these, there was very admirable voices in imitations of the Sirens. All the Soldiers were tricked up in the best Arms in the Ship.  
The day and hour being come, in which I was to be honoured with seeing Alcionida in a place where I had any power, I went to meet her, and her Aunt which accompanied her, with ten or twelve more of her friends; as for Phedima she was not very well, and therefore could not come: I was in the most magnificent Arms that ever I wore, with a Plume of several colours, and waited upon by Leosthenes, and all the principal Officers of my Ship: conducting her then into this Ship, thus ordered, as I told you, the music begun to play as soon as we came near, and going into a Cabin, she was amazed at the greatness of it; at the rareness of the Pictures, and the magnificence of every thing, and she could not be persuaded she was in a Ship: After she had well viewed these things, the Mariners to divert her, did in her presence, do all they use to do, either in a Calm, or in a Tempest, which was to pull up, and let down the Sails, to turn upon a sudden, or by degrees, to remove all that abundance of Cordage in an instant; and in short we showed her all manner of Maritine works, which usually are wonders unto those who never saw them. Whilst Alcionida was viewing these sights, the Banquet was brought into the Cabin wherein we were at the first: so that when she entered again into it, she was afresh surprised with pleasing delights: for the truth was, Leosthenes had ordered things very well; she began then to commend and thank me, but still chiding me for my magnificence, and telling me with a most obliging smile, that if all Pirates were like me, they would shame all that Greece had most excellent and magnificent. I returned her a compliment with with much joy, and I was extremely pleased to observe Alcionida so delighted: But when I began to think, that I must depart that very night, (for the wind was very good) I was not able to look upon Alcionida without extreme sorrows: Alas, (said I unto myself, whilst she was at the Banquet with her friends, and looking most attentively upon her) perhaps I shall never see Alcionida again; every minute drives me further from her: And canst thou live Thrasibulus, and endure this? hast thou an heart to bid her adieu? Ah, no no, rather die a thousand deaths, then admit of so rigorous, so incertain, and so long an absence; so certain for its cruelty, and so insufferable in its torments. These cogitations did make so deep an impression into my soul, that I changed colour twenty times in an hour; so that Leosthenes drawing me aside, when he perceived my extreme melancholy, and whilst the Ladies were eating, and according to his free and bold humour, How do you, Sir, said he unto me? are you the only man in all the world, whom the sight of the party loved does satisfy? Alas, Leosthenes, said I unto him, what satisfaction can it be to see this admirable beauty whom I adore, since I must see her no more? If that be the cause of your sadness, said he to me, why will you not see her all the days of your life? Alas, how can I do that, said I to him? You may do it (replied he very hastily) by permitting me to cut the Cable which fastens the Ship unto the Anchor, and so let me hoist up Sails, and put to open Sea, as if it were with intentions to divert them, and so you may carry them whither you please: retaining only the fair Alcionida, and her lovely Cousin, and set at the rest on shore, at some convenient distance from this place. Euphranor, said he, is not now Gnides, and we shall be far enough off before our flight will be discovered: and however, said he, whether you do it as a Pirate, or as a Lover, it will be a prize worthy of you: At the first, I thought that Leosthenes had spoken this out of raillery: but presently after, seeing he spoke seriously, and as one that was interested in it, my first apprehensions was to refuse the motion: but love in an instant, seducing both my generosity, and my reason, forced me to say unto Leosthenes, almost not knowing what I said, Canst thou tell me of no way, cruel friend, to make me happy, but by making me culpable? and dost thou make such a pleasing proposition, as honour forbids me to accept? The fault is easily repaired, said he unto me; and those who are happy, do never pass for culpable: and therefore without loss of time in needless discourse, go, and entertain the Ladies, and amuse them, whilst I take all necessary courses to execute so happy a design: Ah, Leosthenes, said I unto him, I dare not consent unto such an unjust proposition, how pleasing soever it be. Consider (said he again) that if you will needs be so exactly just, you may perhaps never see the fair Alcionida again: but may for ever enjoy her, if you follow my counsel: But then she will hate me, replied I unto him: But on the other side, you will for ever lose her, (answered he.) Look upon the treasure, (said this unjust friend, and pointing unto her with his finger) which you intent to lose: Indeed Sir, what shall I say in my excuse? Love disturbed my reason: Leosthenes seduced my will: and hardly knowing what I said, I half consented unto his desires, which doubtless were more for his own interest, then mine, in relation to the Cousin of Alcionida, whom he loved; and I went as he advised me to entertain, and amuse the Ladies, whilst he cut the Cable, hoist Sails, and took the open Sea. Since the Banquet was ended when I entered, Alcionida came towards me with such obliging civility, and so many signs of satisfaction in her countenance, I was so ashamed for consenting unto what Leosthenes had propounded; as I did not only grow pale, and blush, both in an instant, but checking my thoughts, No Madam, (cried I upon a sudden) I can never consent unto it, I had rather die an hundred times: Come Madam, (said I unto her, and presented her my hand) and go out of this place which is unworthy of you, and never trust yourself again in the hands of Pirates: But Madam, make haste, I conjure you, lest that repentance which now is in me, be not seconded by a worse; Alcionida was so amazed at this, that she knew not what to think; but she saw so much disorder in my face, that she was in a great disorder herself, and knew not what she should answer: Then seeing that every one began to obey Leosthenes; and that he had his Sword in his hand, and his Arm up to cut the Cable, I did absolutely forbid him: Then turning towards Alcionida, do as I desire you, Madam, said I unto her, though what I desire do cost me my life. But (said she, in giving me her hand, and making ready to go out) will you not tell me, what the matter is? When you are upon the Land, replied I, and I rid of my fears, than perhaps you will guests what the matter is: I cannot possibly express, Sir, the disorder of my soul at that time, the astonishment of Alcionida, and likewise of her Aunt, and her friends; nor can I express the vexation of Leosthenes, or my despair: for being prompted unto it, by my love, my respects, and my repentance, I set Alcionida on land, and in her Coach, not remembering what I said, or whether I said any thing, or no: I know only that I left her, that I embarked, and though our intentions was not to depart until the next night, yet I caused the Anchors to be taken up, the Stills to be hoist, and left Gnides immediately, where also I left the Soul of my affection. Leosthenes would have said something to me, but I could not endure his sight, nor would admit of his excuses; for I must needs grieve first for my loss, before I could pardon his evil counsel. Within an hour after our departure, I commanded the Sails to be let down, and the Anchor cast: And though this Command seemed to be very odd, yet was it obeyed: And in the mean time not knowing what I would have, I grieved most excessively, sometimes for the absence of Alcionida, and sometimes for consenting unto so unjust a design, and sometimes, I repented of my repentance, thinking that I was in no fault, and that it was rather an effect of my violent passion, than any disorder of my soul: and in the mean while, not being able to resolve whether I should come nearer the shore, or put further off; although I know both honour, and necessity doth require the latter, yet I could not do it, until I was assured Alcidonia did know I loved her: so that I designed to write unto her, and send my Letter by one of my men in a little Cockboat: I writ then, though Heaven knows with much ado, and if I be not very much mistaken, the words were these:  
THRASIBULUS, to the fair ALCIONIDA.  
I Have so many things to say, that I am much puzzled where to begin. But, Divine Alcionida, I wish you knew, that my affection unto you is in the highest extreme: that my quality is not as it seemed: that my sorrows to leave you are unexpressible: that my consenting for a minute to displease you, will beget a miserable repentance in me, as long as I live: and though I durst not tell you as much, yet did I love you more than any tongue, indeed, can tell. You might perceive as much, me thinks, by the disorders of my soul: you, I say, whose judgement is so ingenious, and piercing, I beseech you, remember a Prince, who durst not tell you his quality, unless he had acquainted you with his misfortunes also: Remember, that he departed from you with intentions to return, and to return the most passionate and faithful Lover in the world: but remember not, I beseech you, that I was a while your Ravisher, unless you remember at the same time I was your Deliverer: However, Madam, though perhaps you will not retain any thoughts of tenderness towards me, yet I beseech you do not think upon me with scorn, since it would be too much injustice to use him so, who adored you without telling it, departed from you without hope, and who shall love you as long as he lives, although you hate him.  
After I had read this Letter over and over, unto which I did not subscribe my name, I was constrained to make use of Leosthenes to carry it; as well because he did extremely press me to pardon him for his evil counsel, as because he was very fit for such an expedition; and so as soon as night was come, he went to Gnides. Since there was a very good correspondence between him, and her whom he loved, she let him see Alcionida whether she would or no, and unknown unto Phedima; and also carried him into her Chamber without any ask. When Leosthenes gave her my Letter, she made a question whether she should read it: but after she had read it, she made a greater difficulty to answer it, being very angry against her Cousin for bringing him into her Chamber: Yet Leosthenes being very bold, told her, he would never go out of her Chamber as long as he lived without an Answer; so that to be rid of his importunity, she writ me these words.  
ALCIONIDA unto the Illustrious Pirate.  
THough I did believe all that you writ in your Letter to me, yet ought I not to answer it; or if I did answer, yet not so as would please you: Therefore I do declare unto you, that of all which you writ, I believe only one thing, which is, that you are not of that quality which people think you, and therefore I ask your pardon for all the incivilities which I offered unto you whilst you were here: I suppose you to be so just, as not to deny it: And I hope you will not take it ill, that one who is a professed Lover of Truth, do not make any answer unto so many incredibilities as your Letter is filled with: In the mean while be persuaded, that it is advantageous for you, that I do not believe it; and had it not been for the wilfulness of Leosthenes, you should not have seen under my hand the name of  
ALCIONIDA.  
To be short Sir, Leosthenes returned, and brought me this Letter, which though it contained nothing but matter of indifferency; yet did it so much joy me, that I should hardly have gone from the Coast of Gnides before I had writ another Letter unto her, if a Tempest had not risen, and forced me to take up anchor, and put to open Sea. I went then to Milete, according to the advice of the wise Thales, and in my voyage I had the good fortune to meet two of the Ships which I had lost: but in exchange thereof, I had the bad fortune to hear the Prince of Phoceus was returned to Milete, as soon as Thimocrates was gone to render an account unto the Amphictions of all passages; and that this Prince had crossed all that Thimocrates had done in my favour; that he had established the Authority of Alexidesmus, and punished all those who desired to rebel, or expressed any zeal to my Party: So that my cross destinies driving me into despair, I was constrained to retire, and wander over all our Seas, not knowing well what course to take. I sent once again unto Gnides privately, to inquire what Euphranor would say at his return concerning my odd departure: for since there were many Ladies with Alcionida at that time when I left her in such haste, that I imagined the passage would be made known unto all the Town: In the conclusion, I understood that Euphranor was much amazed at the matter, and could not guests at my reason; and that things were in such a state, as that I could not return unto Gnides. So that being out of all hopes ever to see the face of my miserable fates to smile upon me, I conceived it impossible to gain the good opinion either of Alcionida, or her father. I gave myself over so desperately unto sorrow, that passing by Lesbos, I wou●d not land there, but sent only to inquire of Tisanders' health, and writ a Letter to him, which was left with the first Mariners I met in the Port; wherein I told him in general without naming Alcionida, that I was to ask his pardon, for condeming that passion in him, which at that present was most predominate in myself. After this I fell into the Hellispont, and then into Delphos, intending to consult with the Oracle; but when I came there, I was so full of fears to find what I sought for, that I could not resolve whether I should inquire of it or no: In the mean while I fell sick, and that so violently, that I was not able to stir from thence in four Months: But at the last, when it was the pleasure of the Gods that I did recover, without ever praying unto them for it, but found so little pleasure in life, that I did not look upon death as an evil; then, I say, I embarked, and coming by Gnides, but landed not, I took this way: yet the winds were so contrary, that I was forced to leave Chios upon the right hand, whereas my intention was to pass between that Isle and the Isthmus of Gnides: and being carried by the winds, I met with four Ships in that Road: Now since all the world were become my enemies, and since I was accustomed to make all those I met to veil their Bonnets, I would needs do so by these, but they would not: I looked upon their Flags, but knew them not, and I imagined that perhaps it might be the Prince of Phoceus disguized: After they refused to veil Bonnet, I assaulted them, and turning towards the greatest of the four, I gave her chase above an hour: since he had no disposition to fight, he betook himself wholly to his sails. but since my Ships were lighter than his, though greater, I came up to him, and fought him so sharply, that in less than half an hour I became Master of him: I was most encouraged to fight, by seeing my other Ships had burned one of their enemies, sunk another, and taken the last: So that notwithstanding all the resistance of those I fought with, I saw my victory was certain. All that were in the Ship having submitted themselves, I entered into her with my sword in my hand, having no other arms left, for I had not only darted many Javelins, but that only which had the name of Alcionida upon it, which I had kept since the day she was in my Ship. I entered then, and charged my Soldiers to commit no disorder: But going into a Cabin where I heard the voice of women, I saw the fair Alcionida lying upon a bed, having a mortal paleness in her face, and her left arm naked and bloody, because a Javelin had run quite through it, and I saw also ten or twelve women crying about her, and durst not venture to draw this fatal Javelin out of her wound. You may imagine, Sir, what operation this object had upon my Soul: I came nearer her, and cried as loud as ever I could, that he who threw this Javelin should die for it, if I could know who it was: I kneeled down at the side of her bed; I called for my Chirurgeons to come unto her; I took her fair and bloody arm in my hand, whilst all the women about her, not knowing me, were amazed. But oh Heavens, 〈◊〉 no sooner took her by the arm, but I knew that fatal Javelin to be the very same which had her most illustrious Name upon it; and that it was my own self which darted it, at the first assaulting the Ship. Imagine, Sir, in what a desperate condition my Soul was in, when I saw it was my hand which wounded Alcionida; my amazement was so great, that not knowing what I did, I let her arm fall so rudely, that its own weight did almost bring the Javelin out: The pain of it did cause her to come out of her swoon, and to open her eyes just as the Chirurgeons entered. ay, not being able to speak, made signs unto them, to help her; and looking for my sword with intention to run it through my own heart, I remembered Leosthenes had taken it up when I let it fall upon my first seeing Alcionida in that condition: I would have pulled it from him, but he would not part with it, telling me, that it were a thousand times better for me to help Alcionida, then desperately to ruin myself. I approached then nearer unto her bed; and seeing that since the Chirurgeons had pulled out the dart, she was very well come unto herself, I kneeled down before her, my sorrows being so great that I could not cry, (for those are but slight sorrows which can be expressed by tears:) Oh Madam, said I unto her, inflict what punishment you please upon that sacrilegious hand which wounded you; and do not think, that though I defer the execution for a little while, it is not with intentions of living long: No, Madam, I would only see you in a way of recovery, to the end you may see me die, and that way expiate this horrid crime which I have committed. Alcionida was so surprised to see me, and hear me thus express myself, that though she had not been in so weak a condition as she was, she would not have been able to hold any long discourse; therefore not answering at all unto what I said, If I die, said she unto me, I shall pardon you with all my heart; and also I entreat the Prince Tisander, if he be living, to pardon you, as well▪ as I The Prince Tisander, Madam? (said I with much wonder,) is he here? As she was about to answer, the Chirurgeons prevented her, and told me it would kill her if she spoke any more: so that hastily retiring, and leaving her with her women, I took her Cousin by the hand, and carring her to the Chamber door, asked her what it was which Alcionida said unto me: But at the same time, some Soldiers which had taken Tisander in another Ship, brought him into mine, and he knowing that it was I which he had fought against, desired to speak with me; and when in entrance into the Ship he understood that Alcionida was wounded, he was in as desperate a case as I: Cruel Friend (said he in coming first to me) what a fatal adventure is befallen us? Give me leave rather to say (answered I) what a fatal adventure is mine? Ah, said he, you are not to be pitied so much as I, for the thoughts of friendship are nothing so tender as those of love: Doubtless you love me, and will be sorry for fight with me, and for being perhaps the cause of her death whom I most adore, and intent to marry. But (said I, and interrupted him) do you intent to marry this fair and most incomparable Lady? Yes, cruel Friend, answered he, and therefore imagine the sorrows of my Soul: But I beseech you, let me see this fair and unfortunate Lady. In saying so, he went into the Chamber where she was, and I with him, and he no sooner saw her, but taking her hand, kissing it, and also washing it with his tears, he expressed a hundred signs of sorrow and affection, which I durst not render unto her. She cast her eyes upon me, and doubtless did so plainly perceive the sorrows I endured, that she turned away her eyes and blushed. Tisander observing this, and fearing to be troublesome to her, went from her, imagining the alteration of her face to proceed from no other cause but the extremity of her pain. We asked the Chirurgeons what they thought of her: but they could not tell what juddgment to give, until the second dressing, not yet knowing whether any of the Nerves were molested, or Veins cut. In the mean time I understood that Tisander, being cured of his passionate affection unto the fair and wise Sappho, did consent unto the marriage which the Prince his father had made up between him, and the fair Alcionida, before he knew her; and that as soon as ever he saw her, he was more in love with her, than ever he was with his first Mistress. I understood afterwards, that he did not know my Ship, because it had been newly trimmed up at Gnides; and since all the Banners and Flags which Leosthenes had set up for the entertainment of Alcionida did stand still, it was not possible Tisander could know it: Neither could I know his Ship, for since his intended marriage his Flags also were full of gallant devices, and other Mottoes than he was accustomed to have. Since this Prince was really generous, and seeing me silent he did ask me pardon, if in the extremity of his sorrows, he had spoke any thing which was offensive to me. But I myself was so much disturbed in my mind, that I knew not what I should answer him: But I gave orders, that all his men should be set at liberty, and treated as my own: however, the sight of this Prince was insufferable to me, since I understood he was to be the husband of Alcionida, and I could not resolve to go out of his Ship, because I could not depart from her: yet not being in freedom to grieve in her presence, I went into my own, under a pretence of giving out some orders, and went into my own Cabin, with a mind so full of sorrows, that I was a hundred times ready to throw myself into the Sea, and there bury myself and all my misfortunes together; but there was a kind of secret chain which linked me to Alcionida, that restrained me, and kept me alive: And being alone with Leosthenes, I began to descant upon the strangeness of my misfortunes; and my mind being a little more quiet than before, Confess with me, Leosthenes, said I unto him, that I was born under a most malignant Constellation; for if you look upon the present condition of my fortune, you may therein find miseries enough to make a hundred men unfortunate: Were it only the inconsideration of my sorrows for fight with my friend, and hurting her whom I infinitely loved, I deserved compassion; though for nothing but to find my Friend my Rival, I had cause enough to grieve for it extremely; were it for nothing else but to find my Mistress enjoyed by another, I were most worthy of pity; and were it for nothing but wounding with my own hand that Lady for whom only I desire to live, all my tears are too few to lament the sadness of the accident: But having in one day fought with my Friend, wounded her I loved, found him to be my Rival, heard my Mistress is to be married, and my own hand putting her in danger of death; Ah Leosthenes, these are too many miseries to be endured, and it would be as base as impossible for me to live under the weight of them: For indeed, what can I do? I must not hate my Rival, since he is both my Friend and my Benefactor: I never dare speak any more of my passion unto her who first did cause it: my Soul is out of all hopes; my Love cannot now be innocent; I dare not hereafter find any fault with her: I have no reason to accuse Tisander; I have not power to acknowledge my passion unto him, and it were in vain if I should, since he is the husband of Alcionida: In one word, I am in as deplorable a condition at ever any Lover possible can be: But alas, what do I say? and what would I do? I speak as if Alcionida were not wounded, and wounded by my own hand, and that perhaps mortally. Oh most cruel thought (said I,) canst thou ever suffer that profane hand which did it, to be employed in any thing but reaching a Dagger to my heart? But Sir (said Leosthenes unto me,) you are not in any fault; it was a meet chance which gave Alcionida that fatal wound. After this I stood a long while silent, and my mind was so filled with variety of different thoughts, that I was not Master of myself. If she die (said I) I must follow her into the grave; if she recover, still I must die, for she recovers only for Tisander; who is already her husband, and ever must be; he who perhaps though Tisander had not been in love with her as he was, yet might he well perceive I was, by the disorder of my soul which appeared in my eyes: so that he could not possible be ignorant of it; and he stood between us in such a silent Dilimma, that none durst interrupt him. Al●i●nida averted her looks from me, and I did court hers, whilst Tisander observing us both, did discover that Secret which I would have locked up in my heart. After we had been an hour with Alcionida, Tisander impatiently desiring to clear his suspicions, told me in most civil language, that it was convenient to leave her at rest that day; and moved me to go out with him into his Chamber. I was no sooner there, but seeing none in presence; I beseech you, my dear Thrasibulus, said he unto me, Tell me one thing truly, which I much desire to know? Since it was long before I answered, and he suspected that I would disguise the truth; Nay, do not go about to colour the matter, said he, for perhaps, I do not stand in need of your help in the knowledge of it. If so, said I unto him, why do you desire to know that from me, which you know already? Because, replied he, I desire to be infallibly certain, whether or no, I am so unfortunate as to be the cause of this deep melancholy, which I perceive in your mind; Tell me, my dear Thrasibulus, Has not the sympathy of your humour with mine caused us both to love one Lady? and am not I so unfortunate as to deprive you of Alcionida? I do confess, that what resolutions soever I had taken, not to reveal unto Tiscander the reason of my passion, yet now it was impossible for me to disguise it: I was so nonplussed at these questions, and my eyes were so troubled, that my face did so betray the thoughts of my heart, as this Prince not doubting any longer, did cry out with extreme generosity, and most sensible sorrow; Alas, my dear Thrasibulus, how sad is my soul, that my felicity should be your misfortune: for since we both of us do love one and the same Lady, we shall both of us be miserable all the days of our lives. That would not be just, (said I unto him, and sighed, my heart melting at his obliging discourse) and therefore, ask me no more: Believe, if you can, that it is ambition only which is the burden of my soul; Imagine yourself happy, and that I am still the same insensible Thrasibulus, who condemned you for loving the fair Sappho: and quietly enjoy your felicity in the Divine Alcionida. I confess, that being transported with the excess of sorrows, that notwithstanding the friendship between us, I did not rejoice at your satisfaction: all that reason and remembrance of that friendship could do, was, to oblige me not to disturb it. I ask your pardon, generous Thrasibulus; but withal, I beseech you remember in my excuse, that I loved Alcionida before you did, and must love her as long as I live, perhaps more than you: for since she was the first, so doubtless she shall be the last that shall ever move my passion. But least this confession should too much incense you, let me tell you, that as my love of her, is so purely innocent, that it cannot be offensive either unto her virtue, or our friendship, or the Gods themselves, so also is it so extremely violent, that I cannot endure her sight, or yours: for so miserable do I esteem myself, that now I am passed all hopes of Alcionida's love. Since your passion is so purely innocent, as you tell me, and since also I do believe it (answered he) I will promise you so great a share in the friendship of Alcionida, that though it cannot make you absolutely happy, yet at the least it may afford you some consolation: for since she knew you, it is impossible, but she must needs esteem you, and therefore I shall hope she will love you for my sake. Therefore, my dear Thrasibulus, though you cannot be completely happy, yet do not you render yourself absolutely miserable; nor by your misfortunes interrupt my happiness. I do once more declare, said I unto him, that the glorious lustre of Alcionida's fair eyes, which has inflamed my soul, is as pure and splendent as the rays of the Sun: But yet, most generous Tisander, you must needs know, if you know how to love, that though a Lover do not always enjoy the beauty of a beloved and adored Mistress, yet would he have the sole and absolute possession of her whole heart and mind to himself: so that since I cannot desire so great a happiness without a wrong to you, nor indeed, never hope for it: I have no way but to die, and let you live happily. But that I can never do, replied he, if you do not live happily as well as I: Then are we both most unfortunate, said I unto him. Time, said Tisander, may perhaps produce some remedy which you cannot think of. Since those remedies, said I unto him, are commonly long in curing, I do not think, I can stay the issue, & I believe death would sooner work the cure then time. However, I beseech you think, that if you had not forced me to discover my misfortune unto you, you should never have known it: But since you screwed out that secret which I desired to hide, it is but just in you to rid yourself of a vexatious Rival, who shall be always a disturber of your happiness. When I doted upon Sappho, replied he, I did not think it possible ever to be cured of that tormenting passion which possessed me, yet her rigour to me, her compliance with another, and the all commanding charms of Alcionida, has made her most indifferent unto me. It is not so with me, said I unto him, for though I believe Alcionida loves you, and most certainly know she will never love me, yet can I not banish her from my heart. But for your part (said I with a most incensed mind) perhaps you can quit Alcionida for another, as you quit Sappho for her; and I shall perhaps hereafter hear, that the same which would be my heaven of felicity, is not so to you. But most inconstant and unjust Friend, said I, if ever you leave adoring this divine Lady, you will be the most undeserving man that lives. I had no sooner spoken this, but I repented; and found by his mild answer, that he would love Alcionida as long as he had life; however, he gave me such sweet and generous language, that he allayed my anger against him, and I began to long until night did separate us, that I might enjoy my own private thoughts, and at last we parted. Tisander was informed by some or other of the time when I was at Gnides: He understood from one of Alcionida's women, how I caused her to get hastily out of my Ship: However, we were both of us the next day much perplexed: I durst not ask him how Alcionida did; and yet I could not forbear; nor durst I go to see her: And Tisander, I think, as generous as he was, had variety of resentments of it, in one and the same day: yet since he enjoyed the happiness, and was well satisfied concerning the virtue of Alcionida, it was an easier matter for him, then for me, to transact with Reason: He was so generous as not to take any notice of a hundred follies which I expressed unto him, and to speak unto me always with much affection. But that there might want nothing to make up the full measure of my misfortunes, it chanced that I being in a Chamber of his Ship which joined unto Alcionida's, I saw her there, she not knowing I was in that place, or thinking that all the partitions of a Ship being made of planks only, one might easily hear all that was spoken out of the one into the other.  
Since Alcionida was now much better than she was before, Tisander thought it convenient to acquaint her with my desperate condition, to the end she might not hereafter be surprised at it, or else perhaps to discover her real thoughts of me: I heard him ask her, how I carried myself at Gnides? what she thought of me? whether she really thought I was a Pirate? and, as I verily think, fearing lest she should take a displeasure at all these questions, he told all he knew concerning my passion, which did so much surprise her, that she could not make any answer: Yet since she perceived Tisander knew more than herself, she told him sincerely what she believed concerning my Quality, and partly what she knew concerning my Love. Then he desired her to tell him whether she had any good esteem of me or no; and she answered so obligingly in my behalf, that I thought myself then much more miserable than I was before. In conclusion, he conjured her to comply with me, as a man whom of all the world he loved most. Your desire, said she unto him, is too dangerous for me to consent unto; not but that I dare trust myself well enough with him, but because I dare not trust you. Tisander did then protest a thousand times unto her, that he would never be jealous. Yet notwithstanding all his earnest importunities, she could not consent unto it: For indeed, said she, if the Prince Thrasibulus do not love me, he may easily forbear my sight; and if he do love me, he were most inhuman to continue his passion; Therefore, Sir, I conjure you to solicit me no more. When he was gone out, I heard Alcionida call one of her women which she loved very dearly, and commanded her to reach a Cabinet, which she opened, and took out many Letters, for I found out a little hole in the partitions of this Chamber, through which I could see all she did: amongst many other Letters she found that which I had writ unto her, which I knew very well; and she commanded this woman to take this Letter, and to teer it all in pieces, and when it was dark to throw it into the Sea. Why Madam (said this woman unto her, who used to be very free with her) is it a greater fault to keep it to morrow, than it was yesterday? The reason is, replied she, because I must banish out of my heart the remembrance of that Prince's affection, which without a crime I might have preserved, when I thought I should never see him again: but now, since he is here, I must not do so: I must not look upon him as a Lover of Alcionida, but only as a Friend of Tisanders'. What odd adventures do the Fates produce (said she,) why did they send Thrasibulus unto Gnides, only to be miserable, and to make me restless? Not because I do not esteem myself happy in the marriage of Tisander, but because I wish with all my heart that the Prince Thrasibulus were not so unfortunate: Yet did they both of them see the secrets of my heart, Tisander would be less pleased, and Thrasibulus would be more miserable: For the truth is, the reason why I did oppose my marriage with Tisander, was because I had some hopes that Thrasibulus would return unto Gnides in such a quality as he told me; and that I might innocently follow my inclination not to hate him: Yet as the case is now, I must suppress those thoughts (said she and sighed,) and therefore do as I bid you; to the end I may if I can preserve my heart solely for Tisander, and remember Thrasibulus no more. I leave it unto you, Sir, to judge what joy and what sorrow this expression of Alcionida did infuse into me: The sorrow did so much triumph over the joy, and that cruel resolution to forget me did so pierce my heart, that against my will I made a great noise; and since I was so near, that I almost touched the side of her bed, certainly she heard me, for she was silent presently upon it, and questionless was sorry she had been so loud in her discourse; and I believe, I should have spoke to her through the partition, had I not heard some enter into her Chamber: So that the knowledge that I was not hated, and that I must for ever be miserable, did drive me into such horrid despair, that I suffered inexpressable torments of mind. In the mean time Tisander, who did really love me, came to seek me, and carried me into the Chamber of Alcionida, entreating me, and earnestly conjuring me, to content myself with her friendship and esteem. I went with him, and at my entrance I heard her charge the woman whom she spoke unto, to do as she appointed her: This made me change colour, and look so seriously upon her, that she dejected her eyes. I shall tell you, Sir, what our Conference was, for I think there was never three persons did love one another so well, and were all three so discontented as we were. Tisander did most passionately love Alcionida, and he loved me also very well: but yet because I loved her he did, I perceived that either out of his compassion unto me, or out of some other considerations mingled with it, he did not delight in my company. Alcionida did questionless love Tisander, and did not hate me; but because my passion could not any longer appear innocent, and since Tisander was not ignorant of it, her mind was extremely unquiet. For my part, I had as high an esteem of friendship for Tisander as possible I was capable of, and I loved Alcionida more than my tongue can tell; but since my Friend was owner of this inestimable Treasure, and since he knew I loved her, and since I knew that Alcionida was fully resolved absolutely to forget me, that I was not able either to begin discourse, or answer unto any: But indeed I went out of the Chamber with some kind of consolation, though it be not ordinary to leave her one loves without much sorrow. But Sir, not to abuse your patience too much, give me leave to tell you, that we arrived at Lesbos and Mitilenes, where the joy was a little clouded by the news of that sad accident which happened unto the fair Alcionida. Yet since she was quite out of all danger, the magnificent Solemnities of her entrance were deferred but for a few days. The wise Prince of Mitilenes received his fair daughter with much joy; but for my part, when I saw her go out of the Ship, it is most impossible to express my thoughts. I forgot one thing which chanced, that was a great addition of sorrow unto me, which was, That Tisander, the better to take order that Alcionida might be received into the Port with Ceremony, went out of his own Ship into one of mine, which was an admirable good Sailer, that he might be at Lesbos an hour or two before us, telling and embracing me, that he would commit the Guardian-ship of his only Treasure unto me: As soon as he was gone, I had so great a desire to entertain Alcionida once more in private, that without sending to ask any leave, I entered into her Chamber; thinking since I understood from her own mouth that she did not hate me, though she resolved to forget me, that I might presume upon so much boldness. I found her sitting upon her bed, most magnificently dressed, though she had her arm in a Scarf: I beseech you, Madam, pardon me, said I unto her, for assuming so much boldness; but indeed, Madam, I am so unfortunate in every thing else, that I hope you will not deny me so much consolation in my misery, as to speak once more in my life unto you. The Prince Tisander loves you so dearly well, replied she and blushed, that I should incur his displeasure, if I should refuse you that which civility only bids me consent unto. I conjure you, Madam, in the name of the Gods (said I unto her, seeing none with her but that woman which I knew to be her Confident) to grant me this honour for my own sake, and let me not be beholding unto that Prince for this favour, unto whom I am already so much engaged and loaded with his generosity: Never fear, Madam, that I shall speak any thing that shall either offend you or the Prince Tisander; No, no, Madam, as violent as my affection is to you, I am not guilty of any criminal thoughts: but since I must shortly for ever lose you, it is not just you should refuse me that innocent favour, since it is the last I shall ever ask you. As a Friend unto the Prince my Husband, replied she, you may hope for any thing from me; but as a Lover of Alcionida, never expect any thing. It is in this last named qualification, Madam, said I unto her, that I hope to obtain my desire of you. Why ask me nothing then, said she, for certainly you shall be denied, and that with abundance of anger: Though the Prince were not your Friend, as he is, yet the respect which you ought to have unto me, should restrain you from any such expressions as these. Why, Madam, said I unto her, do you chide me, before you know what I will ask? What you have already said, replied she, is sufficient cause of complaint against you. I know not whether I am ill interpreted (said I unto her,) but I am most certain that my thoughts are purely innocent: For indeed, divine Alcionida, I desired nothing now, but that you would in my presence be pleased to revoke that unjust and cruel sentence which you pronounced against me in the very same place you now are in, when in giving unto this woman here that Letter which I took the boldness to write unto you, with orders to teer it and throw it into the Sea; moreover, you then most cruelly said, you were resolved to forget me absolutely for ever: Madam, I heard this unjust and dire doom, and now I hope for a Revocation. Alcionida was so amazed to hear this, and to remember that she heard a noise, which made her know I heard her, that she durst hardly so much as look upon me. Did you then hear what I said? (said she.) Yes, Madam, replied I, I did hear; and being more just than you, it shall never out of my memory. I ask you not (said she, and was much ashamed) how you durst be so bold; but methinks, if you well consider the sense of my words, you may conclude that your procedure ought to disoblige me. My Reason, said I unto her, is not so free as to act with so much prudence: but I am sure my love prompts me to desire a little room in your remembrance: This Madam, methinks, is no such unreasonable request, and you may well grant so much unto him who has consecrated unto you every minute of his life. After Alcionida was a little more recollected, Sir (said she unto me with abundance of sorrow in her eyes) this your curiosity to discover my thoughts will cost you very dear, if you love me; for I do profess I cannot endure the sight of you, since you know so much of me: Perhaps, if you had still continued ignorant of those thoughts which my heart had of you, I should have let the Prince Tisander enjoy your company, as he desired me: But since you understand my heart so well, and have told me of it, it is absolutely impossible for me to consent unto it: I cannot look upon you without a blush; and perhaps I shall hate you, out of fear only of loving you too well, and because I cannot be indifferent enough towards you. Alas, Madam (cried I out unto her) what injustice is this which you do me? Injust Prince, replied she, what reason have you to tell me of any such things, as I cannot hear without a crime, and which I will never hear after this day? That is long enough, said I unto her, for I believe I shall not live much longer: Be therefore so good as to tell me, that you should not have hated me, if Fortune had done as much for me, as she has done for Tisander. Alcionida, Sir, was so full of modesty, that she could not consent unto this desire: But in conclusion, being moved thereunto by my sighs and tears, I confess, said she, that of all the persons I know, you are he whom I had the greatest inclination to esteem; and if it had been the pleasure of the Gods, I should have thought myself very happy in contributing to your felicity; yet since it is not, but that I am wife unto a Prince who doubtless deserves all my affections, I will use all the means I can to root out of my heart that tenderness and opinion which I had of you, and which yet, whether I will or no, remains in it. Oh Madam, I conjure you by all that's sacred, said I, not to do so; and I will promise you never to importunate you any more as long as I live, so you will promise me some little room in your memory: Let Tisander solely enjoy you; let your beauty and your heart be only his; and reserve only for me one of those secret and solitary thoughts which useth to beget a pleasing melancholy in those who admit of it: Think sometimes, most divine Lady, that all the while Tisander enjoys his happiness, the miserable Thrasibulus endures as many torments, as that fortunate husband tastes felicities: Alas, Madam, it is no unreasonable demand, to ask three or four minutes in a day in remembrance of a man who as I told you before has devoted every minute of his life to think on you. Those three or four minutes which you desire, is too much for my honour to grant; and you may assure yourself, that if I could, I would banish you out of my memory as well as my heart, but one cannot command one's memory as one will; and perhaps, said she, and blushed, you will forget me, and I shall remember you whether I would or no. Alcionida pronounced these last words with so much charming confusion in her face, that I kneeled to render thanks; but she repenting of what she had said, and did so seriously forbid me ever to speak any more of my passion unto her, and never desire to have any private conference with her, that I saw very plainly it was her real and resolute mind to have it so: and I obtained yet one quarter of an hours audience longer, during which time I could hardly move her to return any answer unto me, and during which I did nothing but sigh, and look upon her, and conjure her not to forget me; I had the comfort to see some signs of sorrow and tenderness in her eyes, and had some hopes of remaining in her memory whether she would or no: In the mean while we were come so near the Port, that all I could do was to reclaim my mind, and fit it for such company as would discourse of nothing but joy. I shall not relate, Sir, all the passages of this Ceremony; for I had no share in this public Joy, but was rather a very trouble unto Tisander, who was most really sensible of my sorrows, and was a Partaker of my misery, especially when he saw I was resolved to depart from Lesbos, and stay there no longer. He set the Prince his Father upon me, to use all his persuasions and motives to cause my stay in Mitilenes, until such time as it pleased the Gods to afford me some ways to reconquer my Dominions: but all was in vain; and I departed not well knowing whither to go, as soon as my ships were furnished with all manner of necessaries, and as soon as two ships of his which he would needs give me were fit to put to Sea. Since my own miseries did teach me how to compassionate them in others, I would not suffer Leosthenes to follow my fortunes; but I left him with Alcionida's Cousin with whom he was in love, and recommended him unto the Prince Tisander, as a man of good quality, and much merit.  
I shall not trouble you, Sir, with any relation, of how I parted from this generous Rival, who shed tears that his good fortune should be my misery: for it would be impossible, but I should blush for shame in relating unto you the obduracy of my heart towards him, though he had obliged me by a thousand sweet expressions of love unto me; nor shall I relate what adieu I bad unto the fair Alcionida, since I had not so much as the consolation to see her charming eyes in taking my leave of her, because she kept her bed that day, and since there was many in her Chamber, I did see her but one minute, and in much disorder: so I departed without this sad satisfaction, and embarked with unequalled despair. My most tormenting thought was, that Alcionida was enjoyed by one whom I was obliged to love; for had he been my mortal enemy, I should not have been so extremely miserable, since than I might have had some comfort in revenge. But the merit of the Prince Tisander did most extremely grieve me also; for I thought it impossible, but Alcionida must love him, and I wished with all my heart, that she had married a man whom she hated. Indeed, there was not one fantastical, melancholy, violent, or extraordinary thought, which love did not infuse into my heart. After this, ambition became no torment unto me; for since I cared not for my life, I never valued a Sceptre: so that without any thoughts, but of my misfortunes, and of the fair Alcionida, I wandered up and down the Seas, until driven by a tempest, I came to Sinope, when the King of Assyria was there with the Princess Mandana; and there remained until you came and found me on your enemy's side without any design of mine to be so. After this, Sir, you know my life, and that nothing observable has befallen it but your own goodness in a thousand testimonies of affection to me, whereof I am most unworthy.  
But Sir, in the fight the other night, at the bottom of the Mountains, I came unto a place where I saw a man courageously defending himself against ten or twelve Soldiers, who pressed upon him; I made all the haste I could up to them, to prevent his being killed; who knowing me, cried out, That Tisander wil● yield himself unto none, but the Prince Thrasibulus: you may well imagine, Sir, that this name did much surprise me, and that I no sooner heard it, but forbidding the soldiers to fight any longer, I went unto him, but found him so wounded, that presently after he fell, and I was forced to hold him up. I knew another prisoner also whom the soldiers had taken to be Leosthenes, whom I left at Lesbos, and who was not wounded: so that promising to pay those soldiers their ransom, for those two prisoners whom they had taken, I caused the Prince Tisander to be brought hither, who expressed so much affection unto me, that I were not worthy to live, if I were not moved with it. Mean while, I understood by Leosthenes, how reports going, that Craessus King of Lydia, would fall upon the Islands, the Prince of Mitilene, went unto him, intending to dissuade him from that design, as indeed he did: so that Pittacus taking his side, left the Prince his Son, and Leosthenes at Sardis, where they made as great preparations of war, as if Craessus would conquer all Asia, though none knew what his design was. I understood also that this Prince had a desire to engage the Milesians to his party, but the wise Thales did oppose it: I understood also from Leosthenes, that the Prince Tisander knowing that Craessus would send unto the King of Armenia, desired that employment, and obtained it, choosing rather to travel, since he must needs be from Alcionida, then to stay in a Court so gallant as it was. So that coming to Artaxates just as you came thither, he was shut up in it; and was forced to follow the King of Armenia into the Mountains, conceiving he might more easily escape from thence, then out of Artaxates, if he stayed in it. And indeed, his design was to escape at this time, when he was so dangerously wounded, and to go and render an account of his negotiation unto the King of Lydia. Leosthenes told me further, that the Affairs at Milete had much changed faces: for Anthemius, who never set up Alexidesmus, but only to ruin him, had brought his design 〈◊〉 pass, having stirred all the people against him: so that he was forced to retire to Phoc 〈…〉 with his mother, his wife, and Philodicea: So that now Milete, was as a free Town, when 〈…〉 popular Government was begun to be established: Notwithstanding Thales, and all my friend● did resist this new alteration, yet Leosthenes told me, the fear was, that if the people were once accustomed unto liberty, they would never receive any Master again; and he told me also, that in the mean time, the Prince of Phoceus was combining with all his Neighbour Princes to promote the interest of Alexidesmus. But, Sir, Dare I after all this tell you, that Leosthenes, who had married her he loved, told me, that Alcionida was never so fair as now? and will you excuse my weakness, if I neglect all my State affairs, to discourse of such things as only concerns my love?  
Cyrus' seeing Thrasibulus had no more to tell him, did express much grief for his misfortunes: and resolved to apply all expedient remedies for the satisfaction of his ambition: for as concerning matters of love, my dear Thrasibulus, (said he unto him) it must be the same hand which wounded, must cure you: And though Tisander be your Rival, yet I find him so worthy of assistance, that I extremely commend you for your cares of him. As Cyrus was advising Thrasibulus of such expedients, as he thought best for the recovery of his Dominions, Leosthenes entered into the Tent very hastily. Sir, said he to Cyrus, who understood all languages, I ask your pardon for my bold interruption: but the Prince Tisander being at the last gasp, I thought it fit to advertise the Prince Thrasibulus of it: At the last gasp, replied Cyrus, Yes, Sir, replied Leosthenes, for having a great desire to write, notwithstanding all my endeavours to dissuade him: as he ended his Letter, all his wounds opened, and he lost so much blood, that he fell into abundance of weakness, and swooning, is not yet come unto himself. Thrasibulus did then ask leave of Cyrus, to go and assist his most faithful friend, and Rival, whom he could not love in one respect, nor could not hate in another. But Cyrus calling to mind the high valour of this Prince, would also go himself: As they entered into the Tent, the Surgeons had revived him out of his swound, yet with such small hopes of life, that they told Cyrus, who asked what they thought, he could not outlive that day: yet since he had a free mind, and a great soul, he was not at all terrified at the looks of death: and he carried it as one that was worthy to be Son unto such a Prince, who was reputed the wisest in all Greece: He patiently submitted unto the wills of the Gods, and neither ask death, nor life, he prepared himself for the first of these with most admirable tranquillity of mind, and was contented to leave the other with unparallelled contentedness: he knew Cyrus, as soon as he came in; so that addressing himself unto him, Sir, said he, you see the Gods have punished me for lifting up my hand against so illustrious a life as yours, since it had been much more glorious for me to have died by the invincible hand of Artamenes, then by the Soldiers of great Cyrus. It is also more advantageous to the Prince Thrasibulus, said he, that I die, since than he would not be so miserable as he is. Cyrus' answered him with all possible civility, and would have infused some hopes of recovery, notwithstanding all the Chirurgeons said: But Tisander interrupting him, No no, Sir, said he, I cannot live, and therefore, I beseech you, let me employ the last minutes of my life in remembrance of one, who in causing my highest happiness, has made my dearest friend most miserable: In saying so, he turned his head towards Thrasibulus, and giving him the Letter which he had let fall after he had writ it, and which was given unto him again upon his coming to himself. Here, my dear Thrasibulus, said he unto him, take this, and I make you my Executor of my last Will; give it if you please unto our dearest Alcionida: and since I did not murmur, when I heard her bestow some sighs for your misfortunes, so I beseech you do not murmur when she bestows some tears in memory of my death: since I shall no longer be an obstacle unto your happiness, let me have the integrity of your friendship: and look not upon me any more as your Rival: I do acknowledge you merit Alcionida more than I, and I will do that which fortune would not, I give up all my interest in her unto you: In pronouncing these last words Tisander blushed, and tears trickled from his eyes; so that Thrasibulus being extremely moved with the generosity of his friend, and not being able to contain his sorrows, he came nearer him, and taking him by the hand, Live most generous Prince, said he, and be assured that I will never more envy your enjoyment of the incomparable Alcionida: Indeed, I shall ever love her, but it shall be as she is yours without any other pretence unto her: No, no, replied the weak Tisander, that must never be: Live you, and let me die; all the favour I ask, is, that you will sometimes speak of me unto my dear Alcionida: Let me have this last satisfaction, my dear Thrasibulus, and I will leave you an unvaluable Treasure in the Person of Alcionida: for her soul has an hundred thousand more shining beauties, than her face: But in recompense of so rich a Present, promise me here in the presence of Illustrious Cyrus, that you will tell her, I value not the loss of life, or Grandeur, or kindred, or any thing in the world, but only her: and that I find no bitterness in death, but only my sorrows to leave her: and when you have done this, enjoy her quietly all the rest of your life: and live happy longer than I have done. Thrasibulus was so grieved to see his Friend in this condition, that his love, which was wont to triumph over any other thought, was now forced to submit unto his sorrow; and to lie hid in the bottom of his heart without any discovery upon this sad occasion. He promised Tisander then to perform all his Commands in most grieving expressions, and testified such real marks of tenderness, that none would ever thought Tisander had been Rival to Thrasibulas. In the mean while, this weak Prince, growing more feeble upon a sudden, died, and desiring to say something more concerning Alcionida, he pronounced her name, and left all those who saw him die in such admiration of his Constancy, and so mollified with his discourse, that had he been a prime Friend unto every one in particular, he could not have moved more sorrows. As soon as the Prince Tisander had fetched his last breath, and no signs of life appeared, Cyrus carried Thrasibulus out of the Tent whether he would or no, and left Theosthenes to take all requisite orders for Tisanders' Funeral, which Cyrus would have most magnificently performed: Having then carried Thrasibulus into his own Pavilion, he took the Letter which was directed unto Alcionida, and which was open; then with the consent of Trasibulus he found written these words:  
Dying TISANDER to his dearest ALCIONIDA.  
I Am so near my Death, that I cannot possibly say much unto you: Let me in a few words conjure you to believe, that I did love you beyond all expressions, and that I die full of the same affection, and fuller than ever any, except the Prince Thrasibulus: You know he is my second self, and so receive him; I give him all my share in your heart, for he deserves it; Love him then for the love of me, and force him to love my memory, for the love of you; and as far as it is possible, let both of you love that Prince in his grave, who whilst he lived loved none but you; and when he died, you were the only thoughts of  
TISANDER.  
As Cyrus was of a most apprehensive and compassionate Soul, so his heart was extremely tendered at the reading of this Letter: And Thrasibulus himself, notwithstanding all the hopes he might conceive by the death of his Friend, was most really grieved. All possible care was taken, to render the last honours of Burial with all Ceremony befitting a man of his quality: Cyrus himself, the King of Phrigia, the King of Hyrcania, and every Prince in the Army, were Mourners, and expressed all testimonies of esteem unto the honour of Prince Tisander. After this, Cyrus told Thrasibulus, that both the affairs of his Dominions, and those concerning his Love, did require his sudden return unto Milete, and unto Lesbos. Then he went to give out Orders concerning the present Affair. In the mean time, the Prince Phraartes returning to the King his Father, found all things in a lamentable condition, because their Victuals would not last above two days, though the King of Armenia to keep up the hearts of his Soldiers did make a show as if they had enough for a Month, hoping always that Ciaxares would be weary, and draw off from Artaxates. Phraartes then, seeing things in that condition, told the King his Father, that there was a necessity of having recourse unto the clemency of the Conqueror, since force was in vain; and the more to merit his favour, he thought it mst expedient to tell Ciaxares with all ingenuity whether the Princess Mandana and the King of Pont were in his Dominions or no: That as for the Tribute demanded, though it were just to pay what's promised, yet he knew that the principal cause of the War was the Princess Mandana; so that if he had her in his hands, he might easily free himself from the Tribute by restoring her unto the King her father; and that if he had her not, than he ought to make it so apparent, as neither Ciaxares or Cyrus might doubt of it. The King then protested unto Phraartes, that he never knew the King of Pont or the Princess Mandana were ever in Armenia; And that the Princess Araminta being in his Dominions, had certainly raised that opinion of the Princess Mandana's being here. Phraartes told the King his father, that as he had promised, so he must needs acquaint Cyrus with the truth of all this: But the Soldiers being in a great Mutiny, would needs see all the Magazines of Victual before the Prince Phraartes departed; there was such a great disorder amongst them, that they all forsook their Guards: So that if the most generous Cyrus would have violated his faith, and taken that advantage, he might easily entered the Mountains, and killed all those that fled thither for sanctuary; for it was easy to be discerned from the Plains, how they dispersed themselves in the Mountains without any order, or any Arms: But he did most inviolably observe whatsoever he promised; but looked upon this disorder without taking that advantage, or knowing the true cause of it. But in conclusion, the King of Armenia resolved to trust unto the generosity of Cyrus, and put himself into his hands. He sent therefore the Prince Phraartes before, appeasing the Soldiers, by assuring them that he went to make Peace. This Prince returning then unto the Camp, and being conducted unto the Tent of Cyrus, where was the King of Assyria, the King of Hyrcania, the Prince of the Cadusians, the Prince of Paphlagonia, Thrasibulus, Hidaspes, Aglatidas, and many others; he told him, how extremely sorry he was that he was not able to tell him any news concerning the Princess Mandana, of whom the King his father had no knowledge: For Sir, said he to Cyrus, to show you that he is most sincere, I need tell you no more, but that trusting absolutely in the goodness of the Medean King and your generosity, I have persuaded him to descend from these Mountains, with the Queen my Mother, the Princesses my Sisters, the Princess Onesila, wife of Tigranes my Brother, whom heretofore you have honoured with your friendship: You may very well judge by this, Sir, said he unto him, that if he had the Princess Mandana in his power, he would not have done thus. When Cyrus had well considered upon it, he was most extremely grieved, that there was no hopes of finding Mandana: The King of Assyria was as deeply wounded as he; yet imagining that perhaps she might still be in Armenia, though this Prince was ignorant of it, a most strict search was resolved upon in lieu of a bloody War.  
In the mean while Cyrus sent in all haste unto Ciaxares, to acquaint him with the reports of Phraartes, and to ask him whether he should bring the King of Armenia unto him: But Ciaxares being not well that day, sent him word that he absolutely referred all unto him, and that he should do as he himself thought most expedient. Cyrus' having this answer, received the King of Armenia, and all his Royal Family, into his Tent; and observing a discreet mediocrity in his civilities, there appeared in his discourse and actions all the sweetness of a clement Prince, and all the Majesty of a Conqueror: The King of Armenia seemed a greater Prince in his misery, than he did in his better fortunes; for indeed he spoke with much boldness and generosity upon this occasion: for since Cyrus was much perplexed at the bad news which he received, he could not forbear some expressions of anger, for being engaged in this War, and losing so much time as might have been more advantageously employed in the search of Mandana some other way. This being the condition of things, the Prince Tigranes, who was recovered of his sickness, and understanding the bad condition of the King his father's affairs, resolved absolutely to trust unto the generosity of Cyrus, and came unto his Tent; where with sorrow he saw the King his father, the Queen his mother, the Prince his brother, the Princesses his sisters, and the admired Onesila his wife, whose beauty did dazzle all those eyes that looked upon her: As soon as he appeared, Cyrus received him with many expressions of civility towards him; yet since he was upon a business of great importance, he held no long discourses, but following his intention, Why Sir (said he to the King of Armenia) did you not return a more clear answer unto the King whom I serve, when he sent unto you to demand the Princess his daughter? and why did you make him think she was in your power? My Reason was, replied he, because I thought he did not believe she was in my power; and that he did but seek for a pretence to colour his War, and thereby move me to pay that Tribute which I formerly paid unto Astyages. But, replied Cyrus, do you not think that Tribute due, and that you ought not to pay it? Yes, answered he; but desire of Liberty, and also to leave my children absolute and free, moved me unto that injustice which would have been glorious if it had succeeded well. If you were in the King of Medes case, said Cyrus, and a Prince your Vassal should have done as you did, what would you have done? If I should act according to the Rules of Policy (replied this Prince without any amazement) I should so disable him from having any power to hurt me, that I would leave him no more but a desire to do it: But if I would merit that Reputation which at this day Cyrus enjoys, and keep it when I had gotten it, I would pardon that Prince; and of a rebellious Vassal, I would make him my grateful Friend. Be then so unto the King of Medes, replied Cyrus, but be sure you be most really so, lest you should find the fury of a puissant and justly incensed Prince. The King of Armenia was so much surprised to hear him speak in that manner, as he was afraid he had misunderstood him: Therefore Cyrus had the leisure to turn towards the Prince Tigranes, and smiling asked him most obligingly in spite of his melancholy, what Ransom he would give to free the Princess Onesila his wife? My life, Sir, answered Tigranes hastily; for since there is nothing in the world so dear unto me as she, I ought to offer no less. Mean while, the King of Armenia perceiving by the acclamations of the people, that he was rightly understood, began to express his gratitude and acknowledgements unto Cyrus; who to let him see that he was at liberty, began to treat all these Princesses with wonderful civility, and appointed Coaches to come and carry them unto Artaxates. Sir, said the King of Armenia unto him, since you de 〈…〉 thus generously with us, I will not only become a Vassal, and a Subject; but I will be so fidele and free unto you, that you shall not only dispose of all my Treasures which are upon yonder Mountains, but also of my life and liberty. Cyrus' returned a most generous answer unto this discourse of this Prince, and assured him, that Ciaxares desired no more but that he should observe the same Conditions which his Fathers heretofore had done, and that he should join his Forces unto his: We will bring them up Sir, replied the prince Tigranes and the prince Phraartes, and we shall with joy be ready to die in your service, whensoever any occasions require it. Cyrus then did part from those two Princes most civilly: And the Coaches being come, the Queen of Armenia and the Princesses her daughters were carried unto Artaxates, and into the same palace where the princess Araminta was, because it was more convenient than that where Ciaxares lodged. Thus she who was a prisoner in Armenia received the Queen of Armenia, as if she had been in the Dominions of the King her brother. The prince Tigranes and Phraartes by the permission of Cyrus waited upon the Queen their mother unto the Palace. All the way as they went, they spoke of nothing but the virtues of Cyrus: Phraartes extolled his valour; the Queen of Armenia, his generosity; the Princesses her daughters, his sweetness and clemency; and Tigranes, who was better acquainted with his Heroic qualities than they, told them a hundred pieces of gallantry which he had performed: But observing that the princess Onesila his wife did not speak at all, and conceiving that Cyrus had not yet been sufficiently commended; Is there any man in the world, said he unto her, whose behaviour and person is more noble, high and handsome, then that of Cyrus? Truly, replied she, I cannot speak of his magnanimity, nor at all of his handsomeness, for I did not observe it. Who then, said he unto her, did attract the observations of my Onesila, whilst this generous Conversation lasted? He, answered she, who offered his life for my Ransom, and whom she prefers before all the Universe: So sweet and most obliging answer moved Tigranes to give her thanks; and then he went on with his Elegy of Cyrus, whom since she did not observe, he described him unto her.  
About an hour after, Cyrus carried the King of Armenia unto Ciaxares, who since morning found himself a little better: As they entered into Artaxates, never was such loud acclamations in commendations of Cyrus, as upon this occasion: All the Conquerors that ever were, who led their conquered Kings in Triumph, never had so much glory in the Captivity of their Slaves, as Cyrus had, and deservedly, in setting the King of Armenia again upon his Throne; and after he had vanquished him, let him enter into Artaxates, as if this tributary King had never been a Rebel, or himself a Conqueror of him. Ciaxares, at the request of Cyrus, received him very well: So that in less than a days space, there was no more Wars in Armenia; the vanquished and vanquishers were all of one side; and if the princess Mandana were but found, there was then no more to be wished: but since she could not be heard of, the joy was only on the Armenian side. Ciaxares, Cyrus, the King of Assyria, and all those who had any interest in this admired Princess, were never the nearer any satisfaction. A general search through both Armenia's was then resolved upon: for since the King of Pontus his Slave told the princess Araminta when he was dying, that the King his Master was gone into Armenia; and besides that, since Mandana had written as much with her own hand, it could not be believed but she was in some unknown place or other. In the mean while Harpagus came from Ecbatan to advertise Ciaxares, that there was a great disposition amongst the people to Revolt, by reason of his long absence; and that it was necessary to send some person qualified with high Authority, to remain there until he came himself. Cyrus' received Harpagus with much goodness; remembering that he was in some sort a cause both of his love, and all the glory he had obtained: since if he had not come unto Persia, and had given him that counsel which he did, perhaps he should never have left the Persian Court. But the business, which he came about, being put into Consultation, Cyrus desiring to oblige Aglatidas, did propose to send him unto Ecbatan, and to confer upon him the Government of the Province of the Arasantines, which Ottanus would not accept of; imagining that since he might well hope to enjoy Amestris after the death of her husband, he would not refuse it. It was then resolved upon, that Aglatidas should depart the next morning, and go for Ecbatan; that he should carry Artaban with him; and that he should assure the Medean people, that Ciaxares would make a speedy return. Upon the breaking up of the Council, Cyrus sent for Aglatidas, toacquaint him with this good news, which doubtless he received with as much joy, as Megabises did with sorrow: He thanked Cyrus in such fit language to express his gratitude, that it was apparent his passion was high. He made show of some sorrows to leave him, and without doubt, he was as loath to part from him, as any Lover who was going to see his Mistress could be: He assured him, he should have his dispatches that night, and embracing him, Wish (said he, my dear Aglatidas) that I were as near my happiness and satisfaction, as you are when you go to see your dear Amestris; I wish with all my heart, you may find her as faithful, as you have described her amiable and admirable. Artaban also took his leave of Cyrus, and the next morning these two friends went together to Ecbatan: To cheer up Megabises, Cyrus gave him one of the prime offices in the King's House which then was vacant: yet this consolation was but weak to divert his mind, since Aglatidas would ere long see Amestris, but since there was no other, patience must be his remedy.  
There came news that day to Court, that Craessus was raising a very puissant Army, and did solicit all the people of jonia to take his part: so that Cyrus seeing so fit an opportunity to help the Prince Thrasibulus, would not let it slip: and the next day following, he moved Ciaxares, that in case Craessus had any designs upon his Dominions, as in all likelihood he had, than it were the best expedient to make a diversion, and to draw the Lydian forces unto more places than one: So that it was resolved, the Prince Thrasibulus, accompanied by Harpagus, who had much experience, having followed the late King of Medes in all his wars, should go with ten thousand men into Cappadocia, where Ariobantes would make new Levies to join unto those Troops which Ciaxares left at his departure from Sinope, to keep that Kingdom in peace: That Thrasibulus should be General of this Army on foot; Harpagus commanding under him; and without needing any new orders, he might in the name of the King, and Cyrus, punish, or pardon, as he thought fit. In the mean while, Cyrus had a conce●t in his mind, which did much vex him, that Mandana might be any where, since they could hear no news of her: Love, hereupon, which is always very ingenious, made him invent P 〈…〉 'tis, which he set up throughout all parts where he had made any Conquests; to the end he might in less time, and with more expedition, hear news of Mandana. After Thrasibulus had taken his leave of Ciaxares, the separation between that Prince and Cyrus was very f 〈…〉 of tender expressions: for since the first day they fought with one another, they had a most high esteem of each others virtue, and it was impossible but this esteem should tie a firm knot of friendship between them: The Names of Mandana, and Alcionida, were often pronounced at parting, which was in private: Thrasibulus desired Cyrus to pardon him, for leaving him before he heard any news of the Princess; and he assured him, that if he saw any more enemies to fight with, he should never be able to do it: Cyrus did thank him with all expressions of civility, and desired he would excuse him for not going himself in person, to put him in possession of his Dominions, and to persuade Alcionida to obey the Commands of the Prince Tisander: However, since he thought the Grecians would be very willing to assist a Grecian, Thimocrates, Philocles, and Leontidas, were chosen for it, and entreated by Cyrus to serve him in the Person of Thrasibulus: They were too gallant to refuse any occasion of war, yet could they not find hearts to part from Cyrus without abundance of sorrow: Thimocrates told Cyrus at parting, that he saw his Destinies did not change, but that absence still must be the greatest torment of his life, since certainly he could not part from him but with extreme regret. Philocles did most obligingly complain, that he was no more beloved of Cyrus, than his Mistress, since if he had, he would have kept him with him: And Leontidas suiting his compliment to his humour, as his friends did to their fortunes, told him, that he did not look upon all those who were to enjoy the happiness of the Princess, with less jealousy, than he did upon the Lovers of Alcidamia. After these first Compliments of Gallantry, they expressed effectual testimonies of their zeal to serve Cyrus in the person of Thrasibulus, who had gotten so much love amongst all the Kings and Princes in the Army, that there was not one, who did not with much sorrow bid him adieu: He went also to take his leave of the King and Queen of Armenia, of the Princesses his daughters, of the Princess On●sila, of the Princess Araminta; of the Princes Tigranes, and Phraartes. After all which he departed with his Forces which Harpagus commanded under him: which were joined unto the Cicilian Troops, which Leontidas commanded after the death of the Prince Artibies; with an addition of the Cyprian forces also, whose Body was sent unto the Prince his Brother, with all honours fit to be rendered unto one of his quality, with a desire that Cyrus might be as good as his word, and that his body might be carried to Thebes, and laid in the Tomb wi●h his dear Leon●ina, Cyrus sent a Letter by his men who were to conduct the Corpse, unto the Prince of Sicily, and another unto the Prince Philoxipeses, with Orders to pass into Cyprus, and to assure him of the continuance of his friendship, in conducting to Thebes the Corpse of the Prince Artibies. Mean while, all searches for the Princess Mandana were in vain: Information was given from some fishers in the River Halis, that once upon a time, they observed a Boat full of Soldiers, and some Ladies amongst them, but that was all they could say: so that both Cyrus, and the King of Assyria, did endure all the torments that desperate Lovers could suffer; all the victories of Cyrus could not countervail this horrid absence from Mandana: all the defeats and losses which the King of Assyria had, did not disturb his mind, which was sensible of nothing but the loss of Mandana: All their thoughts were employed about this fruitless search; during which time the Chaldeans, which were Neighbours unto the Armenians, which descended from their Mountains, were much molested by Cyrus, who in four days did quell them, and indeed made them very happy in reconciling them unto the Armenians, of whose friendship they stood as much in need, as the Armenians did of theirs; so that in all places fortune smiled upon Cyrus: every people did yield obedience unto him without any contradiction; and either by his valour, or by his clemency, he was Conqueror of all the world: yet for all that he could not conquer his own sorrows, which never gave him any rest: sometimes he went to lament, and he lamented by the Princess Araminta; and for her part, she did not only complain against her old miseries, but against the new passion of Phraartes, which did every day grow more violent; beseeching Cyrus' not to leave her in Armenia when he went away: Ciaxares also did extremely grieve for the loss of his daughter; so that it may very well be said, Never conquerors had less joy in their victorious Conquests than those. Cyrus did often wonder that Ortalques who went with Martesia, and her Cousin, was not heard of: and he feared some misfortune had happened that amiable Lady: yet though Mandana did take up all his thoughts, yet he was always pleasingly civil and obliging; but always grave, reserved, and melancholy: The King of Assyria, who was of a more violent temper, he was not only sad, and melancholy, but also he fretted, and was full of anguish: and if these two Princes had not yet had some hopes to find Mandana, doubtless they had ended all differences between them, and stayed no longer: for sometimes when Cyrus considered that the King of Assyria was the cause of all his misery, he had much ado to contain himself: also when the King of Assyria considered that perhaps Mandana would not hate him, if Cyrus were not loved: his heart renewed all imaginable hatread, as he used to have unto him, when he thought him only Artamenes, and himself seemed only Philidaspes: However, all intelligence which both of them received from divers parts, did not afford them any knowledge of what they desired: and the small hopes which they had, was almost quite extinct, when the King of Assyria was advertised by a secret Agent, which he had in Susa, that Abradates' King of the Susanians was gone with some Troops, and none knew whither: That he carried the Queen his wife with him, and also a strange Princess, and a Prince which no body knew: and that they went towards Matenes, which joins upon Armenia, and Cicilia. As soon as this Prince had this news, he rejoiced; but since every one is apt to believe what they desire, he made no doubt but this Princess which was unknown, was the Princess Mandana, and the unknown Prince, the King of Pontus: so that going in all haste to acquaint Ciaxares, he met Cyrus, who perceiving so many signs of joy in his eyes, could not choose but ask him the cause: though it went against the hair to acquaint his Rival with such good news, yet he told him what he knew concerning the Princess Mandana, which at the first apprehension did so joy the heart of Cyrus, that he thought to embrace his mortal enemy, and give him thanks; but presently after, some ingredients of grief did allay his jollity, when he considered that Ciaxares should hear any thing of Mandana from his Rival, and not from himself; for he made no question but it was she, as well because the King of Pontus might think to find protection from Abradates, who always hated the Medeans, as because the River Halis, on which it was known Mandana was, did run that way: Moreover it was known that the Matenes were the Allies of Adrabates: So that his thoughts concurring with the King of Assyria's, he told him, that it was fit to acquaint Ciaxares with it in all haste: and to take horse the very same hour, to the end they might go towards the Frontiers of Armenia, to inform themselves of Abradates his March, to follow him, and also to fight with him. Together than they went unto Ciaxares, who being as impatient as themselves, after he understood the news, told them, that they should go speedily to deliver the Princess his daughter: so that without loss of any time, they drew out two thousand horse out of the Medean Chavalry which was the best: A thousand of the Assyrian Kings, and a thousand Homotimes, which were the best of all the Persian Troops. Since they received other intelligence, that Abradates had with him but two thousand horse in all, they took but four thousand, that they might the sooner overtake him, and knowing that the March of great Bodies is always slow: nor would they have taken so many, but that they feared they should be constrained to divide themselves, the sooner to meet with whom they sought for: All the Princes and Volunteers in the Army were in this party, except the King of Phrigia, and the King of Hyrcania, who stayed with Ciaxares. Tigranes and Phraartes failed not; and never were men seen more eager to vanquish than they.  
Cyrus and the King of Assyria had eyes which sparkled with extraordinary fury; and they thought themselves so sure to deliver Mandana, that they began already to look upon each other as enemies: Yet did both sides carry it most civilly, and with all sincerity, but their very looks did discover whether they would or no the resentments of their Souls. In conclusion they took their leaves of Ciaxarrs, and having the acclamations and prayers of all the people for a happy success of their enterprise, they marched with incredible haste to the Frontiers of Armenia, and as far as the Matenes Country, who were in League with all their Neighbours, and notwithstanding all the Asian Wars, lived in a secure Peace: When they were arrived there, they understood that Abradates was already past, and was gone towards a corner of Cicilie; they understood also that there was many Coaches full of Ladies which those Troops conducted: So that this news renewing their zeal, they consulted upon the best expedient: for all the way Abradates went there was a River, along which he must necessarily go; but since they could not exactly tell on which side he went, and on which side Mandana was, because they were informed that Abradates had divided his Troops, one party going over a Bridge, and the other stayed on that side on the left hand; therefore they resolved to divide themselves also. So that Cyrus, generously giving half of his men unto his Rival, drawing lots which party he should have, and which side of the River he should take, Cyrus had that side which was furthest from Armenia, and the King of Assyria the other: But before they parted, they both of them renewed their promises to each other, not to take any advantage by delivering the Princess until they had fought: So after this new promise of mutual fidelity they parted, each of them wishing in his heart to be happier than his Rival. Cyrus' in all impatience to find his dear Mandana went in the head of his men, and would very often be a long way before them, to inquire of all he met whether any Chavalry and Coaches passed that way: some told him, Yes, some again, No; and according to their several answers, the Soul of Cyrus was either glad or sad: he sent upon the left hand of the River, for he himself was upon the right, sometimes Araspes, and sometimes Feraulas with some horse, to inquire in the Villages what they could hear; and by all reports, he was ascertained that some Chavalry passed that way. As for the Coaches full of Ladies, some said there was such, and some said there was none at all. He was told at a place where he passed, that the Chavalry which he followed had left the River, and took upon the left hand: so that he went in all haste the same way, and he came unto a place where the ways were sandy, and where he could trace the horses feet freshly printed: Then did he march on with much joy for ten hours, until he came to a Bridge where he stayed, not knowing which sides those he followed had taken, for now the ways were not sandy, and no prints were to be seen: He being now at a terrible dilemma, he passed over the Bridge to the other side; he sent out divers men to several places, but all in vain, for they found many houses, but none in them, so that he knew not what to resolve upon: yet at last he thought it best not to be on the same side of the River which the King of Assyria was; so that going back again to the Bridge, he marched along the other side: After some thirty furlongs march, Feraulas, who was a long way before, did meet a man, who told him, he saw a great fight on the other side of the water within this hour, and within twenty furlongs from the place he was. Cyrus' knowing this, with a mind extremely inflamed that his Rival should be more happy than he, returned speedily to the Bridge, and passed over, going strait towards the place where the Peasant said he saw the fight. He had not gone above fifteen furlongs, but he found some horses and men dead; and going a little further he saw a field covered with dead and dying men, and a Coach which was overturned and broken. This object did infinitely move him: he searched and looked all about; and in the end found a Persian amongst those that were wounded whom he knew; and being able to speak, he no sooner saw Cyrus, but he called him, Sir, said he unto him, the King of Assyria has delivered the Princess, and put all those enemies to flight which are not killed. Has the King of Assyria delivered the Princess? (said Cyrus in a great amazement:) Ah my friend, dost thou know what thou sayst? Yes Sir, replied he, and has carried her away in her Coach; for this which you see here broken is another, and those women which were in it are all in the same Coach with the Princess: Since I was wounded after the fight by one of my Companions, who would needs have a horse from me which I had gotten, I saw very well how the King of Assyria did address himself unto her in her Coach with all humility, and honoured her; that was the reason why the Commander in Chief of the Enemies was not taken, for the King of Assyria no sooner saw that Coach in his power, but he neglected all else, and took care of her. Cyrus' hearing this news, was both joyful as possible could be, and also as sad as any true Lover could think himself: He rejoiced that his dear Mandana was delivered, but since it was by his Rival, he grieved excessively. Moreover, he understood the King of Pontus was escaped, and therefore had a good mind to follow and fight him, yet he could not think that Mandana was in the King of Assyria's power, but he must needs haste after him: so that leaving his design of following an unfortunate Rival, he went after him that was the fortunate one. He went immediately unto the Randezvouz which was appointed of at parting, but went with a mind so infinitely enraged, that he was not master of his own thoughts: The night coming fast on, did augment his melancholy, because he could not make haste enough; but was forced to stay, for having left the River side, intending to go a nearer way, his Guides lost their aim in the midst of a great Forest full of Cypress Trees, and in the obscurity of the night: so that in lieu of coming nearer Mandana fearing to wander further off her, he resolved to stay there till break of day: moreover, his horses were almost tired, having had no rest a long time: he therefore made a halt, and lighted from his horse, sitting down at the foot of a Tree, as if he would rest himself, but indeed it was to persecute himself with the violent agitations of his mind: Sometimes his resentments of joy would get the predominacy; for said he in his heart, Mandana is delivered, she is in a place where I shall shortly see her, and her Deliverer shall not long enjoy that glorious Title, unless my courage betray me in this last and principal occasion. But oh ye Gods, said he, why must my Rival deliver my Princess? and why do you put me to the necessity of hating her Deliverer, and grieve for the liberty of Mandana, which I did so ardently desire? I cannot purely relish her deliverance, for doubtless my Rival has already spoke of his love unto her, and she has thanked him for what he hath done; and perhaps this last piece of service which he hath done her (which did not cost him one drop of blood) will work more upon her heart, than all the Combats I have fought for her; then all the battles I have won, and then all the wounds I have received. Oh my divine Princess (cried he out) be a little more just, and look upon the service which the King of Assyria hath done you, rather as an effect of his good Fortune, than any extraordinary testimony of his affection: But after all this, he hath delivered her, said he; and methinks I see the Princess bestow upon him a thousand expressions of acknowledgement: Yet were I assured that this divine Princess did wish in her heart that it were I who had done her this good office, I should be satisfied; but liberty is so sweet, that it is most difficult not to love the hand that gives it. Oh ye rigorous Destinies, said he, why would you not let me have the honour of breaking her Chains asunder? Had ye been so propitious unto me, I should have thought myself the most happy Prince upon Earth: But now, though I have won so many Battles; conquered so many Kingdoms; nothing resisted me, all obeyed me; the King of Assyria himself thrown out of his Throne, and compelled to yield unto the fury of my Fate; yet this unfortunate Prince is now a thousand thousand times more happy than Cyrus, who has been reputed the greatest Favourite of the Gods of all men living. How dare I appear before my Princess? and how can I contain my impatience to see her in his hands? When he was in Babylon, he was less dreadful to me then now; for then Mandana looked upon him as her Ravisher; but now the case is altered, and he is her Deliverer, and all that ever I did for her was not so advantageous to her, as this act of his at this time: Yet I am much to blame to grieve, now my Princess rejoiceth, and yet were I mad to rejoice at the glory of my Rival. Perhaps I am deceived, and my adored Mandana is most just, and will remember, that though I did not deliver her when I returned from the Messagettes, when I saved the life of her Ravisher, yet it was because I knew him not; and that though I did not deliver her in the taking of Babylon, it was because the King of Assyria did take her away the second time; and though I did her no service at Sinope, it was because the Prince Mazares to his own misery and mine did carry her away: Therefore when she considers that the King of Assyria has been her Ravisher and Detainer whole years together, it may be this last adventure of his will have no great operation upon her heart. But no, no, said he presently after, let me not flatter myself; past services are small in comparison of those which are at present; and a thousand good intentions are nothing equal to one real good office effectually done, though it cost him who did it but little; and therefore unhappy man that I am, I may in all reason fear, that the King of Assyria hath this very day gained more upon the heart of Mandana, than I have done in all my life. Afterwards when he began to consider, that in drawing lots which side of the River either should take, all his wisdom and p●ety could not keep him from murmuring against Heaven: What have I done, O ye just Gods, said he, to merit this misfortune? Have I not, during all the Wars that ever I made, preserved your Temples and your Altars? Have I not offered Sacrifices and Oblations unto you? Was I ever unjust, cruel or bloody? I loved Mandana it is true, but I loved her with unparallelled purity: I loved her most passionately I confess; but since you made her so highly accomplished, and made me know it, it had been a sin to do otherwise, and I could not possibly love her less, and yet you inflict upon me as severe ●orments, as those who are most culpable could be punished with: I would gladly cease ●y murmur, but I cannot: Fury doth command my mind; Jealousy disturbs my Reason, and I cannot endure that my dreadful Rival and my mortal Enemy should be Mandana's Deliverer. After this, being out of all patience that it was not yet day, he rise ●p; and taking horse, maugre all persuasions to the contrary, he would have them march; and because he would be exemplary to the rest, he was the first that groped through the thick of darkness, having in his mind a more gloomy melancholy than the obscurity of the night, which was so dark, that no objects could be discerned in that great Forest.    
The End of the third Part.   

ARTAMENES, OR CYRUS the GREAT. The Fourth Part.  

BOOK. I.  
AFter a long and blind March, day did by little and little appear. And Cyrus came to the River side, where the Guides being within their aim again, conducted the Prince to the place where he desired to be; at the last he came to a place where he discovered Coaches, and Soldiers, going before him: This sight seemed something strange, and made such a mixture of joys and sorrows, love and jealousy, hopes and fears in his heart, that he knew not what to think on it: He looked upon Feraulus, and pronouncing the name of Mandana, showing him the Coaches, and doubling his pace; Come, Feraulas, said he unto him, let us go and enjoy the happiness to see our Mistress, or at the least disturb the joys of my Rival: putting on then very fast, he overtook some horsemen, which were two hundred paces behind the Coaches and Troops, and knowing them at the first to be Meads; Is the King of Assyria, said he unto them, with the Princess Mandana? We know not that, Sir, replied they; for presently after the Combat yesterday against Abradates, when he perceived that in lieu of delivering the Princess, he had only taken the Queen of Susiana, he turned all fury, and took another way with part of his men. How, said Cyrus, is not Mandana in this Coach which I see before me? No, Sir, replied they, the King of Assyria had intelligence that she was on your side of the River: so that desiring to come unto you, and share in the deliverance of her, he took a nearer way which his Guides did show unto him, and thereby stop the King of Pont's way, after he had passed the River at a place, the name whereof we have forgotten; hoping also to overtake Abradates, and meet with you. But since we see you here, we know neither where he, nor the Princess Mandana is, especially since it appears you hear nothing of him, but return without meeting with him. Cyrus was so astonished, and sad, that the Princess Mandana was not delivered, and to know that if he had followed the way he first took, he might have done it: and that his Rival might perhaps be fight for her at that very time whilst he was speaking on it, that not staying any longer there, nor going to the Coach where Panthea was, he faced about in all haste, sending Araspes to have a care of that Queen; he returned then unto the first place where he might have pass over the River: and marching almost as fast as if he had been alone, he was so much transported with anger against himself, that he had much ado to contain himself within the limits of reason: he wished that the King of Assyria had met with Mandana, and he desired also quite contrary: and since he could not compose his discordant desires, he suffered intolerable torment of mind; especially when it came into his thoughts that in all probability the King of Assyria had already delivered Mandana, or which was worse, that neither of them could deliver her: After a long March without any intelligence, he met with some horsemen, which the King of Assyria hearing that he had passed over the River, did send unto him, to tell him, that he would still pursue the King of Pontus, and also to advertise him how he understood, that he had left the River upon his left hand, and went as fast as he could unto another, which he must needs cross over, before he could be in Cicilie. Cyrus' upon this advice, doubling his diligence, though his horses were very weary, at last he overtook the King of Assyria, and out of a fantastical humour of love, and jealousy mixed together, he was both sad, and glad, that he had not delivered Mandana: These two Illustrious Rivals rendered an account unto each other of their actions: and being forced unto it by necessity, they gave half an hours time unto their men to take a ●light repast, and bait their horses at the next Village they came unto; after which, they went together with more haste than before, in pursuance of the King of Pontus, who could not make any great speed because of the Coach which carried the Princess Mandana: At last after a March until the Sun was set, they discovered this other River, which I spoke of before: But that which did most extremely perplex them, was to see a wooden Bridg, over which they were to pass, quite broken down: and casting their eyes upon the other side of the water, they discovered in a great Meadow, about four or five hundred paces off, about fifty horses only, and a Coach, which they did conclude to be that of the Princess Mandana, whom they were in Quest of; for this broken Bridge was a strong argument of it: Then were they at a Dilemma, to comprehend why they had only fifty horses, and what was become of all the rest; however they made no doubt but that it was the Princess Mandana: Since this River was very deep and impetuous, and also very broad, there was no possibility of passing over: Cyrus, and the King of Assyria, yet would make a trial, but all was in vain, and both of them were in danger to be drowned: And it was a long days march unto any Bridge; then to return as far back again; for there was no other between that place they were on, and the Sea, into which this River did empty itself: nor could they pass over in Boats, because indeed there was none upon the River which was not navigable by reason of the swiftness of its current; neither was it full of fish which caused few fisher's Barcks to be upon it. Thus not knowing what course to take, the sight of this Coach which still went further and further from them, did drive the souls of these two Princes into a great horrid purgatory: The breach in the Bridge was so broad, that any planks would not be serviceable if they had them: Thus being at their wit's end, and not knowing what to do, they looked upon the Coach, which still was more remote, until the Sun being set, and it entered into a Wood of Cedars, upon a hill beyond the meadow, they lost the sight of it, and almost their lives; since all hopes of relieving Mandana was lost. For when they considered how near they were their Princess, and wear not able to get any nearer, but were still at a more dire distance, their sorrows were insupportable, though they testified not any visible signs of it: But though both of them were in one and the same miserable condition, yet had they not the consolation to condole together, but contrarily, the sympathy of their sorrows did more separate them, and make their miseries more violent: and had they not both been as highly generous, as they were highly perplexed, it had been absolutely impossible for them, to transact together as they did: yet notwithstanding, Cyrus was much more sad than the King of Assyria, who having some confidence in the Oracle which he received at Babylon, did never despair of his happiness: But Cyrus, who had no such Cordial in his miseries, was all fears, and no hopes. The Prince Tigranes, and the Prince Phraartes, with all the rest of quality in the Army, did use their best endeavours to cheer them up, especially Cyrus, who had the affectionate hearts of all the world, but yet alas, all was to no purpose. Since these Princes conceived, that those Troops which had left the King of Pontus, on that side of the River, might chance not be far off, therefore they still stood upon their Guard, and marched in good order, unto this Bridge over which only they could pass the River. In the mean time, love which prompts all Lovers unto Heroic Actions, moved Cyrus, and the King of Assyria, (who could not endure so flow a March as the Body of their Troops was to keep) to take an hundred horse only, and went before: commanding the rest to keep the Bridge, lest Abradates, hearing they were following after Mandana, should seize upon it. All the rest of the Princes did follow in this adventure, and made as much haste, as possibly they could unto the Pass over the River: They were forced to rest their horses for an hour or two; and then continued their March until the morning at the break of day they passed over this River: and then hoped nothing could stop them from overtaking Mandana. Cyrus' thought it convenient to send Feraulas unto Tarsis, to the Prince of Cicilie, and to acquaint him with the business, beseeching him to send unto all the Ports in his Country, that no strangers might be suffered to embark: after which he continued his pursuit, and took that Road which he imagined the King of Pontus to have taken. But since night approached, they took up their Quarters at the first Village, and there rested themselves till break of day: Then they sounded to horse, and marched not only till night, but until the next day at noon, without any intelligence of what they were in Quest after. Since Sicily in that part was not large, they were near the Sea, when they saw two horsemen coming towards them, who being far off were unknown; but drawing nearer, Cyrus knew the horse of Feraulas, so that not speaking a word unto the King of Assyria, who followed immediately after, and prompted by his passion, he spurred on towards him, and upon a sudden stood amazed to see that the other who came with him, was Ortalques, the same man who had Orders to convoy Martesia, and had been so long before he returned: since he imagined that Ortalques could tell him no news but only of Martesia, but thought Feraulas might happily hear something concerning Mandana, though he had an high esteem of wise Martesia, yet at the first he did not inquire of her, but looking upon Feraulas, as if he could divine his news; Well Feraulas, said he, do you know yet where the Princess Mandana is? and will the Prince of Sicily do as I desire him? Sir, replied he, I am even desperate in being forced to tell you, that for all my haste I could possibly make, I came four hours too late with orders from the Prince of Sicily, to the Port where the King of Pontus, and the Princess Mandana are embarked: How Feraulas, replied Cyrus, is not Mandana in Sicily? No, Sir, answered he, she took ship yesterday about noon: the reason of this misfortune was, said he, because the Prince of Sicily was in hunting when I came to Tarsis, so that I was forced to go after him, which took me up much time; for he was far off: As soon as I met with him, and told him the place where you saw the Coach, in which the Princess was, he did infallibly conclude that the King of Pontus would embark at a Port unto which he immediately sent me, with his Captain of his Guard, and with orders to the Magistrates of the Town, to stop all strangers which would put to Sea, dispatching also many others into divers other places with the same Commands: What should I say more, Sir, I came unfortunately four hours too late, but by good fortune I met with Ortalques, who had orders to come unto you from the Princess Madana. From the Princess Mandana, replied Cyrus, how is it possible he should know any thing? Sir, replied Ortalques, doubtless you will wonder when I shall tell you, that having had the honour of your Commands, to convoy those Ladies which went with Martesia from Sinope, I safely conducted them to the side of the River Halis, where having a desire to rest themselves, and to take the pleasure of the water, they took boat, sending their Coach another way unto a place where it should meet them; and commanding me to come also into the Boat, my two hundred horse was conducted by my Lieutenant along the River side: After we had been upon the water half a day, the Lady who was Cousin unto Martesia fell sick; and so extremely, that we were constrained to stay at a Castle which was built upon the Banks of that River, being come unto that place, where there was no Town within twenty furlongs, I desired to speak with the Commander in chief, but since he saw Soldiers, he was very unwilling to consent unto what I desired of him: He asked from whence I came, whither I went, what I was, and who those Ladies were: But since we were in Paphlagonia, where I knew there was divisions among the people, I dissembled the names of the Ladies, and my own also, telling him only, that I was a Cousin unto them, and had no other design but to conduct them: he was yet very hard to be persuaded unto my desires; but at last telling me that he never used to entertain any in his Castle, but Ladies, and because it was too much inhumanity, not to assist a sick Lady, if without any danger he could do it, he consented to receive her in, and at the request of his wife, who seemed to be a woman of good parts to assist her: Then I went back to Martesia, and causing her Cousin to be brought in a Chair which the Captain sent us, I conducted these Ladies to the Gates, and afterwards I went to give orders for the quartering of my men at the next Town: yet the next day the Captain of the Castle invited me to lodge with him, but I refused; contenting myself with admission into the Castle, to visit Martesia, and her Cousin, who found very good helps from a Chirurgeon, and Physician, which were there, and who would not go away from thence a long time, as I was told at my lodging. Since Martesia was most admirable amiable, she had already got the love of the Captain's wife; so that discoursing one day together; she told her, that they were very happy whensoever they found any occasion to assist sick Ladies: and since Martesia knew that her dear Mistress passed up this River; she asked her if she had never any occasions to assist Ladies, till now? She answered her, that about three months since, there was one of the fairest Ladies that ever breathed upon earth, fell sick, and was in that Castle: but presently recovering, she stayed not in it. Martesia being now more inquisitive than before, asked her name, her quality, and where she was: but she answered, that she neither knew her name, nor quality: but yet to tell her truly, she was yet in the Castle; yet if her Husband knew that she had discovered it unto her, he would be extremely angry: she told her farther that the reason why they were so nice to let them enter, was because this Lady was here: yet she was lodged in a Chamber of the Castle far off this she was in, and where none entered but the men which waited upon her, and a woman which she brought with her, who never left her: That there was also a very handsome man, who was even at death's door with grief, whilst this fair one was sick: Then did Martesia desire her to describe the beauty of this Lady, and the stature of the man she spoke of, and by the answer of this woman, she certainly concluded, that the Princess Mandana and the King of Pontus were in the Castle: as she was leaning against a window which looked towards the River, she spied a great Boat, so like that in which she had been with the Princess Mandana, as she asked the Captain's wife, whether that was not the Boat in which the sick Lady came; and she answered, yes: Then was Martesia fully satisfied conceaning the truth of Mandana's being here; she dissembled her joy until she spoke with me, which the same day she did: It was resolved then betwixt us; so to gain the favour of this Captain's wife by presents and good language, that she might let us see this sick Lady: and since she was but very young, she was easily persuaded by such allurements. To be short, Sir, Martesia tampered with her so handsomely, that the next morning this woman unknown to her Husband, carried her by a back stair into a Chamber just opposite to the Chamber of this unknown beauty, and the windows being open, she saw the Princess Mandana, and Arianita, leaning against the window, and talking together very melancholy: Ah Ortalques cried Cyrus out, and interrupted him; why did you not release the Princess? Have but a little patience, Sir, replied he and you shall know the reason. Martesia then knowing the Princess, and being extremely surprised without any further reasoning upon the matter, she thrust herself half out of the window, and made so great a noise, that the Princess turning her head, and looking that way, did presently know her, and was no less surprised at the sight, than Martesia was at hers. This Encounter was so full of astonishment, that it was impossible but it should attract observance; but as good luck was the King of Pontus was not then in the Chamber with the Princess, and the Captain of the Castle's wife was the only witness of this pleasant surprise in both these Ladies: But yet she was so astonished at it, that she would not suffer Martesia to enjoy the pleasure any longer: then Arianita hearing the door of the Princess Chamber to open, made a sign unto Martesia to retire herself: At last, Sir, when we saw Mandana was in the Castle, I desired permittance from Martesia to deliver her by force: yet she would try first whether or no she could speak with the Princess, but all was in vain: for the Captain's wife had no credit at all with them who were Mandana's Guard. Then we being resolved to hazard all for the Princess delivery, I found means to get Ladders, I caused our Boat to be ready: and by a place of the wall which was possible to be scalled, I designed to attempt it the night following. But as ill luck was, the King of Pontus, while the Princess stayed in that place sick, had sent unto Abradates to desire a retreat in his Court, and also a convoy unto Matenes, which the River Halis separates from him; As ill luck was, I say, there came four hundred horse from Susiana, to guard the Princess: so that the King of Pontus no sooner saw them, but he resolved to depart the very next day, which being known unto Martesia, she acquainted me with it: And notwithstanding the inequality of the number, I resolved to fall upon the King of Pontus in his March, there being no possibility of forcing the Castle, since so many were in it. However, Martesia, who was resolved to follow her dear Mistress, though she could not deliver her, went confidently by the same back stairs unto the Chamber of the Princess, and called Arianita as loud as she could, and told her that if her Mistress would not obtain permission that she might speak with her, she shall be absolutely desperate: Arianita made signs unto her to be patient, and afterwards we came to know, that just at the same time when Martesia was speaking unto her, the Princess was telling the King of Pontus that she was here, and that absolutely she would have her with her, which the King consented unto, not knowing that I came from you, but supposing rather that some odd disaster or other had stayed her about this River, as sickness did the Princess: At length, Sir, Martesia and her Cousin, who was much minded, and all the rest of the women went unto the Princess, who received them with abundance of joy: In the mean time, it was resolved, Sir, we must depart from thence, and to take boat until they came to Mantiana, where Coaches would meet them: But to be short, Sir, upon the next morning I fell upon the King of Pontus his Convoy, and since the number was so much unequal, all my company almost perished, and I myself wounded in four places, not being able to hinder the King of Pontus from carrying away the Princess, who however had this consolation added, that she had Martesia with her: But as for Martesia's Cousin, since she was married, she obtained so much favour from the King of Pontus, as to send her back unto the place where her Coach waited for her, and he desired the Captain of the Castle to be her Convoy; for my part, though I was much wounded, yet I followed after some horsemen with my Sword drawn, but there came two with orders from the Princess, that they should not kill me, but to carry me unto the Castle, with desires unto the Captain to use me well, and have a care of me, which indeed most civilly he did: Whilst I was with him, I understood that he was born a Subject of the King of Pontus, and as fortune would have it, was married in that Country, and at last was made Governor of that Castle, which was situated in Paphlagonia, where the King of Pontus was forced to stay that very morning, when Martesia and Orsanus were left upon the River-banks, for the Princess was so exceedingly grieved at it, that thereupon she fell extremely sick: However, Sir, as soon as I was well recovered, I went unto Susa; where the Captain, whose intimate friendship I had obtained, whilst I stayed with him, told me I should certainly find the Princess; therefore I went, and indeed found her there accordingly: And since the Princess had so absolute a command over the King of Pont, as, excepting her liberty, he could deny her nothing, I was suffered to be with her, because he thought I was her servant before, and knew not that I belonged to you. In a few days after, I understood that Croesus' King of Lydia, had sent unto Abradates, and that some great design was in hand. Mean while, the King of Pontus fearing, that if you whom he heard was in Armenia, should understand that he was at Susa, you would draw that way; and since Abradates was not able to resist you, therefore he designed to depart: and Abradates would not let him go alone. The Queen Panthea also, was so great a Lover of Mandana; and having a design to visit the famous Temple of Diana, which is in the Matenes Country, would conduct her as far as the Frontiers of Sicily, intending to perform her devotions at her return. But when they came unto the River, near which she was taken, as well for the conveniency of their March, as for the more security of the King of Pont: They separated themselves, the King of Pontus conducting Mandana, on that side the River furthest from Armenia, and Abradates on the other, with the Queen of Susania, who continued their March until she was taken by your Troops, for it was the strait way unto that place where she intended to go. As for us, we marched in such great haste, that you hardly would have had a sight of us, as it seems you had, from the other side of the water, if Abradates after his fight and defeat, had not overtaken us, only with fifteen, or twenty of his men: This sight did exceedingly perplex the King of Pontus, for he knew that Abradates had been set upon, and was beaten, but when he understood Panthea was taken prisoner, his sorrows then were in the highest extreme. I than was behind those Princes, so that since both of them were in the depth of sorrows, they took no notice of me; I heard the King of Susa say unto the King of Pontus, that if he would let him have his Troops, he would go after the Ravishers of Panthea. Since the King of Pontus had only a thousand horses, and Abradates, of his thousand, only fifteen, or twenty left; he told Abradates, that if he should do so, he should expose Mandana, and himself in vain, to assault all your Cavalry with so few men: Moreover, said he unto him, never fear the Queen you wife, for Cyrus is the most generous Prince in the world, and since we have the Princess Mandana, he will never treat Panthea ill. Therefore, said he unto him, let me go unto the Bridge, which as soon as I am over, I will break down, and return unto you to perform your promise unto Craessus, and wait for the liberty of Panthea, by the same way which shall give it unto all Asia. At the last, Sir, after much other discourse whereby one might perceive much incertainty in their spirits, we came unto the Bridge, where Abradates left this Prince, and bad adieu unto Mandana, who when she knew of Panthea's being taken, did assure him, that if she were in your hands, she were safe, conjuring him to move the King of Pontus to restore her unto Ciaxares, upon condition that he should restore Panthea unto him. Abradates' was so full of sorrow, that he did not well understand this Proposition: so that the King of Pontus fearing she should repeat it again, and that Abradates would make some reflection upon it, commandend the Coach to drive on, he taking his fifty horses only. When we were over the Bridge, the men of Abradates on his side, and we on ours, broke down the Bridge, and went our ways, that is to say, Abradates towards Susa over the Mountains, and the King of Pontus towards the Cicilian Sea. But when the Princess Mandana, near whose Coach I was, discovered all your Cavalry, on the other side of the River, whilst we were in the great Meadow, I never saw any in my life seem more sad than she: she looked after you, Sir, as long as ever she could see you; for she imagined that you were there in person, and when we were far entered into the Wood, yet she looked still, in hopes of a glimpse; at length, Sir, we came to the Port, where the King of Pontus would needs embark in all haste: he found a Ship ready to put out for Ephesus, wherein he was received, he embarked the next day about noon, which was yesterday. About two hours before their departure, Martesia called me aside, and did bid me make an escape away, and give you this Letter, which I was coming to bring you when I met with Feraulas, who was coming out of the Town when I came: In saying so, he presented a Letter from the Princess Mandana, unto Cyrus, who received it with as much joy, as the King of Assyria saw it with sorrow: But not being able to defer any longer the reading of it, and it pleasing him to open it before his Rival, he broke open the Seal, and read these words.  
The Princess MANDANA, unto CYRUS.  
SInce I cannot tell whether or no, the King my Father be in your Army, and do not doubt but you are; therefore I address my Letter unto you, desiring you to let the Queen of Susiana be well used; for it was by her, I knew that it was permitted the Illustrious Artamenes, to be Cyrus: and her cares have been so great, to sweeten my Captivity, that I am obliged to render hers less rigorous, as possibly I can. I need not tell you, that I am the most unfortunate person in the world; for you cannot be ignorant of it. But to acknowledge, in my best expressions, the high Generosity, in exposing all the days of your life for my liberty, Let me sincerely tell you, that I am as zealous a wisher of the continuance if your glory, and good fortune: as I am of a period unto the misfortunes of  
MANDANA.  
The Princess added this Postscript.  
Since I sent you false intelligence that we were going into Armenia, therefore I dare hardly tell you now, that I think they will carry me to Ephesus.  
When Cyrus had read this Letter, he could not choose but look upon the King of Assyria, whose eyes also were fixed upon him, but with such melancholy, and so many signs of sorrow, that the joys of Cyrus were much augmented by it: yet to keep within the limits of their conditions, nor to make a Secret of any thing which related unto the interest of Mandana. Cyrus did read a loud this Letter from the Princess, which was no small additament of sorrow unto the King of Assyria: for though this Letter was no more than a Letter of Civility, yet it contained in it such civil expressions, especially towards the latter end, that he had much ado to forbear extravagant and violent testimonies of jealousy and despair, he changed colour twenty times; the actions of his head and hands did speak his distempered mind: then lifting up his eyes to Heaven, and afterwards fixing them on the eyes of Cyrus: Come, too happy Rival, (said he, and sighed) let us go unto Artaxates, that we may the sooner go for Lydia, and there see what the Gods have ordained our destinies to be: After this, the King of Assyria went first, and not staying till Cyrus answered, he fell into such a profound pensive study, that it was easy to perceive, his mind was in extreme torment. In the mean time, Cyrus, who would not lose a minute of time, nor go unto Tarsus himself, sent one of his servants to thank the Prince of Sicily, who was then preparing to receive him; and going the same way he came, they joined with those men whom he left to guard the Bridge, and went to overtake Panthea, at a Castle which was upon the Frontiers of Armenia, where Araspes was Governor. Since she was recommended unto Cyrus by very good hands, he no sooner saw Araspes, but he appointed him to wait upon her with all due respects, fitting her quality: And though he resolved not to see her since Mandana was not delivered, and since it was she only, and not Panthea was a prisoner, yet he changed his resolution, and would give her a visit: 'Tis very true, he carried it something closely, because he desired the King of Assyria might not be there, and that he might with more freedom speak concerning his dear Princess: so that as soon as he was within the Castle, he went unto the Chamber of Araspes, and pretending some e business with him, they two were alone together: since it was near the Queen of Susiana's Chamber, he went thither unseen, Araspes and Feraulas only following him. This was it which made all the people say, that Cyrus was so faithful unto Mandana, that he would not look upon this Queen, because she was the most charming beauty upon earth. Yet it is most certain, he saw her, but he saw her only for the love of Mandana: he sent for permission to wait upon her, and this fair and wise Princess received him with all civility, and without any symptoms of any Pusilanimity. Sir (said he unto him) the Princess Mandana had good reason to tell me, that you of all the Princes in the world knew how to use a victory, since though I am a Captive, yet you are pleased to honour me with a visit, and to assure me of the life and health of the King my Lord, and Husband. I would not have you think yourself, Madam, said he unto her, at all obliged for so poor and inconsiderable a service: but I beseech you, take the pains to read this Letter, (showing her Mandana's Letter to him) and by it you may see, there are no services which I do not intend to do you: for since the Princess Mandana hath written unto me, I am not Master of my own will, but subject wholly unto hers. I wish Sir, replied Panthea, that I could handsomely divide my gratitude between you both; for you both have highly obliged me.  
After this, Cyrus enquired concerning the health and welfare of his dear Princess: and after he had desired her pardon, for taking so much liberty to himself, he conjured her to tell him, how the King of Pontus used her. Sir, replied Panthea, for the satisfaction of your mind, let me tell you, that the King of Pontus is so absolute a Slave unto the Princess Mandana, that it is a very wonder he can retain her as he doth: for excepting her liberty, there is nothing which she may not absolutely command: so that I can assure you, he gives her no cause of any complaint, but only that he will not part with her: for my part, I have used my best arguments to move him unto it: But his answers always were, that he could not: and though he never received other satisfaction, then to prevent all Rivals from enjoying her: he would wander about the world, until he found a safe place of Retreat, and some potent Protector who was able to defend him. Oh Madam, (cried Cyrus out) Certainly the Gods will never protect the Ravisher of so divine and innocent a Princess. The truth is, replied Panthea, we are but deservedly punished for affording him any protection. Cyrus then seemed more civil unto her, than before, and told her, that if he did not depend upon the power of Ciaxares, he would immediately let her have her liberty: But since the Princess Mandana is concerned, and since the King her Husband had entered into league with her Ravisher; he must needs acquaint Ciaxeres with it before he released her: yet in the mean time he assured her, she should find all due observances rendered unto her. Panthea returned most civil thanks, and both parted well satisfied one with another: And indeed, it is no wonder, that two so highly accomplished, should much esteem of one another: for as Cyrus was in all things transcendent, so Panthea was a most admirable Princess; her beauty was infinitely taking: It did much surprise the eyes, and inspire love; she was of so sweet a Majesty, and so charming a modesty, that whosoever saw her must needs interest themselves in her misfortunes; In the mean while Cyrus commanded Araspes to conduct her unto Artaxates, leaving him five hundred horses for that purpose: After which, taking horse with the King of Assyria, they made such haste, that in three days they came to Ciaxares: unto whom Cyrus did render an account of his voyage: from thence he went to wait upon the Princess Araminta, where Phraartes already was. Cyrus did ask the Princess pardon for departing from her without bidding her adieu; assuring her, that for her sake, he designed nothing but to deliver the Princess, and not to ruin the King her Brother: and she told him her fears of receiving some sad consequents of his enterprise. As Cyrus was with this Princess, news was brought him, that a Post came from Ecbatan, which moved Ciaxares to go thither: There came also another the same day from Ariobantes, who sent him word, how he received intelligence, that Craessus sent to consult with several Oracles: and employed in one and the same day men of much ingenuity and honesty, to go unto Delphos, to Dodona, to the Temple of Amphiaurus, to Antredes Triphon●us; to Brachides, which is upon the Frontiers of the Milesians: And into Africa, to the Temple of Jupiter Ammon; to the end he might either be confirmed, or dissuaded from his intended design: Mean while he raised a puissant Army, and solicited his Allies to arm with him. This being the state of things, it was resolved, that in consideration Ciaxares had no● his health very well, he should return unto Ecbatan, and pacify all troubles there: and that Cyrus with all his Army should march towards Lydia: as well to procure the liberty of Mandana, who was carried unto Ephesus which Craessus had conquered: as also to oppose the designs of that Prince: Thus both ambition and love, being the legs of Cyrus, he went with as much zeal as those two violent passions could inspire into a most Heroic and amorous soul. It was also resolved upon, that to keep Abradates within the compass of reason, Panthea must be retained, and conducted into Cappadocia, towards the Frontiers of Lydia: for certain intelligence was received, that this Prince had entered into league with Craessus, which did very strongly confirm what Ortalques had related. Since the Princess Araminta had no desires to remain in Armenia, because of the Prince Phraartes: and since moreover, Cyrus had some hopes in her solicitations with the King her Brother; he was very glad she resolved to go with the Queen of Panthea; who arrived at Artaxates as these resolutions were fixed upon, and who was according to the desire of Mandana, treated with all possible honours. And to that end Araspes received new orders from Cyrus, to have an extraordinary care of it: This Prince telling him with a smile, which in spite of his melancholy did appear in his eyes, that he could not more safely trust the fairest Queen in the world with any, better than with the most insensible man upon earth. The great separation was within two or three days after; for from that day Ciaxares prepared to return unto Ecbatan, with two thousand men, amongst which was Megabises: Cyrus also, accompanied with the King of Assyria, the King of Phrigia, the King of Hyrcania, and all the rest of the Princes which were in the Army, began to disencamp, and march towards Lydia, after he had subjected a Kingdom unto Ciaxares: The Prince Tigranes out of his affection to Cyrus, and ingratitude for his so generous leaving the Crown unto the King his Father, would needs follow him in this war: Phraarees also prompted both by his generosity, and also his love to Araminta, would by no means stay behind: so that the providence of that Princess was ineffectual. However, to convey the Queen of Susiana, and the Princess of Pontus, more conveniently; Araspes with five hundred horses did begin his journey the day before the Army: which was the reason why the messenger whom Abradates sent, found not the Queen his wife at Artaxates, who was come thither to demand her: but he was answered, that a Prince who was allied unto the King of Medes, and who protected the Ravisher of the Princess Mandana, could not obtain any thing from thence. Before departure, Cyrus went to bid adieu unto the Queen of Armenia, and to condole with the Princess Onesila, in parting from her dear Tigranes. After this, having a thousand benedictions from the King of Armenia, and ten thousand applauds from the people Artaxates, he went to wait upon Ciaxares some thirty furlongs on his way: This separation, was on every side most tender. Ciaxares spoke unto him concerning the Princess Mandana, in such terms, as might let him know, that Cyrus had as great a share in her as himself: and he conferred such an absolute power upon him, throughout all his Empire, that it could not be greater after his death. The King of Armenia did willingly pay the Tribute which was due, and offered four times more to detray the charges of this War, but Cyrus refused it, contenting himself with that only which was due. Mean while, the remembrance of Madana was his, and the King of Assyria's only thoughts, during the March, and when they were forced to be together, they were always melancholy, wishing they were in private, and had the liberty to think of their divine Princess without interruption: They understood at their arrival in Cappadocia, that the Prince Thrasibulus, and Harpagus, stayed not there: but Ariobantes adding only those forces which he then had unto those which formerly were given him, he departed in all haste towards the Lower Asia; love and ambition not permitting him to stay for any new Levies.  
Since Cyrus had nothing but Mandana in his mind, and since she had written unto him, she was going to Ephesus; to clear himself of all doubts, he resolved to send Feraulas thither disguised, knowing he could not make choice of a man more ingenious, more discreet, or fuller of affection to that employment than he, and especially since his dear Martesia was with Mardana, it was a double obligation upon him to endeavour the liberty of that Princess. He accepted of that Commission with much joy; and whilst Cyrus stayed in Cappadocia a while, to refresh his Troops, and to be better informed of the designs of Craessus, he went towards Ephesus with one servant only. The King of Assyria also sent thither a very faithful and knowing man for the same purpose: Mean while Cyrus received intelligence from all parts, of great warlike preparations which was made at Sardis: But notwithstanding all their intelligence, and all their sending, not a word was spoken concerning Mandana, neither any certainty what Craessus intended: Whilst he was in this dubious suspense, some told him, that the King of Phrigia was earnestly enquiring for him, because there arrived that morning three strangers unto his Tent, who brought him some news of great consequence, at least as they imagined, by his gesture, and manner of speech: Presently after that Prince came in, and as one whose mind was full of great Concernments, Sir, said he unto Cyrus, It is fit and just I speak concerning your interests, before my own. And that I tell you, I have brought hither a man who saw the Princess Mandana land at Ephesus, and who can assure you, she safely passed over all dangers at Sea. Cyrus' transported with joy to hear the name of Mandana, and to hear certainly where she was, asked the King of Assyria, where he was who brought the news? And that Prince causing him to come near, (for he brought him with him) he presented him unto Cyrus, who received him with such a sweetness, as did not only signify his love to Mandana, but his own natural civility to the man: This man who was a Grecian, and named Sosicles, being a man of good quality, and wit, answered Cyrus very respectively, and made an exact relation of all he knew: he told him that as he was at Ephesus, he saw a Cicilian Ship come in: That the King of Pontus was in it; that he saw him land, and lead the Princess Mandana ashore also; whom the Governor of Ephesus did lodge very magnificently: he told him further, that this Princess going unto the Temple of Diana, to perform her devotions there, had placed herself amongst the professed Nuns which dwelled there: that the King of Pontus knowing of it used all his endeavours to get her out from thence, but the people were so much incensed at it, that they would not suffer him: so that he was forced to be contented with the favour of the Governor in placing very strong and strict Guards at all the Ports of the Town, and round about the Temple, until such time as orders was received from Craessus, unto whom he had already sent: and that this was the condition of things when he came from Ephesus. Cyrus' asked Sosicles a hundred more questions, after which, thanking him for the pains he took, he fell into private discourse with the King of Phrigia; rejoicing that Feraulas would perhaps send him some happy news, since he was certain to find the Princess there. Since she was in a Maritine place, Cyrus durst not look with his Army that way, remembering the accident at Sinope, but thought it much better to stay until she was at Sardis, there being great probability they would carry her thither; yet notwithstanding his extreme impatience to be nearer her, did almost make him alter resolution, and to march that very hour. But the King of Assyria told him something which induced him to have three or four days patience: and indeed they two speaking low together, it appeared by the countenance of Cyrus, that this Prince told him something which did extremely surprise him, and did infuse both joy and hope. The King of Assyria coming in, Cyrus out of his natural generosity to keep all his promises, told him all he knew concerning the Princess Mandana, and most faithfully acquainted him with the state of things: The King of Assyria was wrapped into as high an etxtasie of joy as he; But to do the King of Phrigia right, and to wait upon that intelligence which he was to receive from him; before any thing was attempted, Cyrus told that Prince, he desired to know more of that accident which be●el him, and which he would not tell of before; and that it was not just he should hearken only unto things which related unto himself in particular, but also those with reference unto him. The King of Phrigia told him, that Sosicles should satisfy him therein when he pleased, and make him understand the cause of that Enterprise, the effects whereof he must wait upon. After this Araspes came to Cyrus, to acquaint him, that the Queen of Susiana, and the Princess Araminta, were the last night arrived at a little Village not above forty furlongs from the Camp. Cyrus no sooner knew this, but he sent his compliments unto them; and the next day he went himself, only with Hidaspes, and some few others, not carrying the Prince Phraartes with him, because his passion did but trouble Araminta. But since Panthea did not receive good rest that last night, he only visited the Princess Araminta, unto whom he rendered an account of the state of all things; knowing it would be most joyful news unto her, if possible a happy conclusion could be put unto the War without fight with the King her Brother. But since she did not well understand the interests of all those who should contrive the business; and desired to know the lives of two illustrious Persons, who would be the foundation of it: therefore Cyrus to satisfy those desires, told her, that he would not be acquainted with it himself, but in her presence; and therefore desired the King of Phrigia to send Sosicles unto him, which immediately he did: he was no sooner come, but Cyrus presenting him unto Araminta, Here Madam, said he unto her, is he who must satisfy both your curiosity, and mine; and acquaint you with things which doubtless are not common: Sosicles, said he, will tell you, and omit no circumstance in 〈◊〉 life of a Princess, whose name is as famous for her beauty and virtue, as her Lover is for his courage and soul. After the Princess Araminta had added her requests unto those of Cyrus, Sosicles knowing very well that it much imported those persons of whom he was to discourse, that this Prince should affect and protect them, did joyfully obey, and began his discourse thus, addressing his speech unto the Princess Araminta.  

The History of the Princess PALMIS, and CLEANDER.  
PErhaps you will wonder, Madam, that a Grecian should precisely know all the interests of the Lydian Court: But when I shall have told you, that I was brought thither at ten years of age, and had the honour to be educated in the house of Craessus, amongst the Princes, his children, your wonder will vanish, and I become more credible. But for the better understanding of what I shall relate, I must acquaint you, that my Father by Nation, was of the Isle of Delphos, so famous for the renowned Temple of Apollo, though his Predecessors were originally of Sardis, and one of the chiefest Families in the Town: But the mutability of Fate bestowing upon them a considerable subsistence at Delphos, they have resided there ever since; and my father lived there in a flourishing quality, when a desire to see the Country of his Ancestors, moved him to go unto Sardis. Doubtless you will think it strange, I should usher in my relation of the Adventures of a great Princess, which things yet seem impertinent: But yet I must tell you, that if my father had not gone to Sardis, nothing of what I shall tell, had ever come to pass: therefore there was an absolute necessity of knowing what I related: one morning then when he was at Delphos, walking by the Sea side, upon a Tarrass in his Garden behind his house; and delighting to look upon all those Islands which environ that of Delphos, and which by reason of their situation, are called the Isles of Cyclades: he discovered a Bark, which floated gentle upon the waves, wherein appeared none but a woman, who endeavoured to guide it, but could not; for my father perceived that this Bark went one way, and she did strive with all her power to make it go the other: Both curiosity and compassion moving him to see a woman so extremely puzzled, he got some Mariners who were near that place in a Boat, to go and see who it was; which they did, and indeed found none in it but that woman which my father saw; and at her feet, in a Cloth of Gold Mantle, a most admirable fair child about three years of age, who without any cares for its lamentable condition of fortune, smiled upon the Mariners, as soon as they came near it. The extraordinary beauty of this child, and its most pleasing features, moved those dull sots to conduct that Bark whither she who was in it did desire; and looking upon the woman who held the Rudder, they asked her from whence she came, and whither she would go? but they were much amazed to find that she was dumb, and could do nothing but show them Delphos with her hand, as who should say, there it is, I desire to be carried. Since it was my father who sent them out, in lieu of going to the Port, they came to the foot of the Tarrass, where he was walking, and where there was stairs, by which one might go into the Sea: This woman who was very old, was at the first much troubled to see they did not carry her unto the place where she desired, but coming nearer, and seeming by my father's Garb, how he was not like one that would wrong the child, she was well satisfied, and made an hundred signs of God knows what, seeming as if she had much to say: sometimes she showed the child: sometimes did lift up her hands and eyes to Heaven, and neither being understood, nor understanding what was said unto her, she moved extreme compassion: she showed unto my father a paper, in which was written in Greek, in a very bad Character, and no better Orthography, 
 This Child is recommended unto that God, which is adored at Delphos. 
  
My Father seeing this child so fair, so amiable, and young; and seeing also the woman so sad, and seeming without any other design, but to leave it unto the providence of the Gods, and seeing she had no subsistence for this child, and herself, he resolved to pity and take care of both: This Mute also showed him a Picture of one most admirable fair; dressed, as Venus is used to be, sometimes lying upon a bed of Roses, with this difference yet, that she was covered with a glorious Mantle, and showed no lower than her breasts naked: close by her was Cupid presented with his Quiver and Arrows: under all were these two verses written,  

The Mother's eyes does deeper wound all hearts,  
Then Cupid can, with all his bows, and darts.   
This dumb woman, showing this Picture to my father, made signs for him to keep it carefully: yet he no sooner viewed it, but he observed that the Cupid there represented, was the Picture of the Child which was in the Boat; so that when he had read the inscription, he concluded the Venus there pictured was the Mother of it; and that the picture was not a mere phantasm: so that conceiving something extraordinary in the adventure, and compassion also tender in his heart, he made signs unto the woman, that if she would dwell in the house with this child, he would take care for it, and her; and since she knew no better course, she consented unto it. Since my father was a Widower, and had no children but myself, he took this child as a companion for me, for at that time I was but five years of age. He then took this woman, and this child into his house, and dismissed the Mariners, who had the Bark for their pains. Mean while, my father endeavoured to discover the truth of this adventure, but could be no better satisfied: for the more signs this woman made, the less he understood her: he carefully locked up the Picture and Letter which this woman gave him, and put the Cloth of gold Mantle in a place where it might be safely kept, giving her others in lieu of them, and hoping that hereafter these things might come to knowledge: he carefully observed the prattle of this child, who already began to pronounce some words, yet he could not collect any thing which might lead him to the knowledge of his Country. A while after this mute woman died, recommending this child unto my father by so many sad signs, and tears, that he resolved to have as much care of him, as of me: since he imagined that the Bark in which the child was found, considering the shape of it, did belong unto some of the Cycladean Isles, he sent it oft thither in hopes to discover unto whom it belonged: but since there was so many of them, it was no easy matter to make an exact search: he divulged it among the Merchants which traded at Delphos, and enquired all of every one, but all in vain. Mean while, not knowing the name of this child, he called it by a name which he loved very well, which was Cleander, having a Son died a little before, who was of the same. I will not trouble you with relation of my father's tender care over this Cleander, whom indeed he loved as well as me: but give me leave to tell you, that since this uncoth child was recommended unto the God which was adored at Delphos, who is the God of all Sciences, my father caused him to be educated in all Arts that Apollo himself could teach. So that certainly this child became an absolute Prodigy; and since his fifth year, there was not a stranger which came to Delphos, who was not most inquisitive after this young Cleander. For besides his admirable beauty, he was owner of such 〈◊〉 vast memory, and sharp wit, that he passed for a miracle. All this while we lived together like brothers; my father, as I told you, making no difference between him and me, telling every one he discoursed with him, that both of us were given unto him by the Gods, and therefore he ought not to make a distinction between us: Cleander might then be about eight years' 〈…〉 l, and I ten, when there was found in the earth an old plate of Copper, on which was engraved an ancient prophecy, which speaking to Jupiter, said, 
 I shall make Delphos shake, as immovable as it is. 
  
Then Madam, questionless you know, that every one conceived this Island was a long time overflown with waters; and that they believed it never to be firm land, but since Latona did 〈…〉 e in there of Apollo, and Diana: so that this Prophecy made all the people believe, this Isle 〈…〉 old be overflowed again as at first; and many Inhabitants thought to dissert the Country: ●y father used his best endeavours to persuade the minds of men to the contrary, but could 〈…〉 t! and it was above a whole year, before this terror could be dissipated.  
Since at that time, there arrived at Delphos, an Ambassador from Craessus, who came to 〈…〉ing offer unto the Temple of Apollo: and since my father whose name was Timocreon, received Letters by some of his Train, from some of his Cousins, who dwelled at Sardis, as inviting him thither, he resolved to go thither with this Ambassador, as well to satisfy his earnest 〈…〉 ires of seeing the ancient Country of his Predecessors, as to dissipate those fears cut of the habitants of Delphos, which had spread almost throughout all the Isles of Cyclades: and de 〈…〉ing the favour of passage from this Ambassadors of Croesus, whose name was Menaceus, 〈…〉 e embarked in his Ship. During this Navigation, a great League of friendship grew between 〈…〉 y father, and this Ambassador: for certainly, (if it be lawful for me to say as much of him who gave me life) Timocreon, was no common man. But the wonder was, that Menaceus●nd ●nd such charms in the beauty of young Cleander, that he would never suffer him to be out sight: and he only was all the diversion of the voyage: At the first, Menaceus took us both 〈…〉 brother's, but my father undeceiving him, and relating how he came to him, his admiration is the higher, and he could not sufficiently wonder at the divine Providence in many acc 〈…〉 us: And since naturally the minds of men do most affect strange and new things, Menaceus loved Cleander more than he did before he knew the manner of his coming to Delphos. When we landed at a Town in jonia, where this Ambassador had occasions we went afterwards by land to Sardis, where my father was received by his Allies with all possible civility, and testimonies of joy: The next morning, after our first arrival, Menaceus sent my father word, that the King would have him come to Court, and to bring Cleander, and me with him. But Madam, before I further wade into my recital, it is expedient I acquaint you in what condition the Court of Lydia was at that time: Be pleased therefore to know, that Craessus had two brothers, the one called Antaleon, and the other Mexaris, who both were yet but young: Moreover, this Prince had two sons, and one daughter, the eldest called Atis, some eleven or twelve years of age; the second was dumb, and called Myrsiles, about nine or ten years old: and the Princess Palmis his daughter about five or six years of age; but yet already a very miracle of beauty. Since the Court had but newly left off their mourning for the Queen of Lydia, it was long since any public Diversions were used, only a Horse-race that same day Menaceus presented my father unto the King, and brought me also with Cleander unto him. Since questionless, you Madam, are not ignorant of the immense riches of Craessus, not of all his vast magnificence; I shall not relate unto you the sumptuosity of his Palace: let me only tell you, that Cleander and I being of that age, when all that glisters in the eye pleaseth the mind, we were extremely charmed with the sight of so much Gold, and so vast a Riches, as we saw in all the Chambers through which we passed. Craessus at the very first was ravished with the beauty of Cleander, his Grace, and his boldness, but much more of those pleasing answers he returned unto all questions: for when Craessus asked him, what he thought of his Palace? This bold and ingenious child answered, that he thought it beautiful enough for a Temple, but much too beautiful for a house, since he conceived it not just that Apollo whom they worshipped at Delphos as a God, should not have so much gold as he had who was but a man, unless it were so, that you had more virtues and more power than Apollo had. This answer so amazed Craessus, that he had him come nearer him, and he carried him into a Gallery, out of which he might see the Horse-race in a great Plain under it, in which was all the glory of the Court, the young Princess, and also the little Princess Palmis, whom Cleander eyed very attentively. Mean while, Craessus being much delighted with the answers of Cleander, asked him an hundred questions, and amongst the rest, whether he took delight in seeing this horse-race? To which he answered, that he should take more pleasure in riding himself, then looking on. But, said Craessus unto him, what would you do with the prize, if you won it? and what on the contrary would you do, if you did not win it? If I lost it (said he without pausing) I would even die for anger, and if I won it, I would present it unto the Princess, your fair daughter, who stands by you. To be short, Madam, what should I say? Cleander so pleased the King. that it was his pleasure both he and I should continue with the Princes his children, and also knowing the abilities of my father, he would needs engage him in his service. So that he was induced to give order for transportation of all his portable estate from Delphos, to Sardis, and to set up his rest in Lydia.  
To relate unto you Madam, the childish years of Cleander's life, would but abuse your patience, and would lose time which would be better employed in relating his heroic acts: yet let me say thus much for his infancy; that never any did employ it better than he, nor more improved himself in all exercise of body, or Arts of mind, wit, and judgement. The Prince Atis, unto whose service he was particularly devoted, and who certainly was one of the sweetest Princes in the world, did love him with most extraordinary tenderness: And the Prince Myrsiles, though dumb, yet expressed all signs of possible affection that could be wished: for Madam, this imperfection did not proceed from any defect in the ear, but tongue, and he did understand every thing which was spoken, it was not impossible he should express an affection unto Cleander. But though Atys and Myrsiles were both most admirably handsome, yet it must needs be confessed that Cleander had a kind of air in his countenance above them: and though he seemed to be below them both in his quality, yet his physiognomy spoke him much above them both. In a very short time he got the love of the people: the admiration of all complete men, the inclinations of all the Ladies; the favour of the Princes, of the Princess, and of the King: But that which was observed most admirable in Cleander, was, that he seemed to be infinitely above all his greatest favours, not in scorning, but in using them well, and not seeking for them by any base and unworthy ways, he enjoyed them without all pride or vanity and also did impart them unto such as were meritorious, with as much generous liberality, 〈◊〉 if he had been a King. In the infancy of his illustrious servitude, as oft as Cleander went from the Princes upon any compliment unto the young Princess their Sister: This little fa●r o 〈…〉 asked him an hundred questions: sometimes whether he was not weary of Sardis; sometimes whether the Temple of Delphos was more magnificent than those he saw in Lydia; and by many other pretty questions, so as it was easily observed that Cleander pleased this young Princess: for when these Princes sent any others which were educated with them, she only returned answer unto the message brought her, without holding any long converse; though it is true, that seldom any but he was employed upon such business, for when he saw any such designed, he would desire the honour of the service, insomuch as he saw her almost every day: The great disproportion of years between Cleander and the Princess Palmis, was the reason that her Governess permitted her to speak longer with him, than any other: so that as long as Infancy lasted, he was the most happy in the world, since nothing did oppose his delights. Thus did we live until his sixteenth year, when some Subjects of Craessus began to rebel, so that now we went to War, wherein Cleander did things beyond belief of all but the illustrious Cyrus, who knows it not impossible to be both young and gallant: So that Cleander appeared so high in the eyes of all the Army, that every one no less extolled his courage, then before they did his beauty, wit and handsomeness: He received a slight wound upon the left arm, in assaulting an enemy as he was striking at the King, which accident did double the favour of Craessus towards him: so that when we had subdued the Rebels, and returned unto Sardis, Cleander was no longer looked upon as a pretty child, but as a complete and gallant man: for though he was very young, yet since as much wisdom, judgement and discretion appeared in him, as in all reason could possibly be expected from his age, he was not dealt with as others who first go into the world, but on the contrary at our return from the field, the young Cleander was treated as a man of high and exact Reason: the Princess herself, who then was thirteen years of age, began to hold discourse with him in a more reserved way, and less familiarity, though always with the same sweetness. At the same time the Prince Atys, who then was about nineteen years old, fell in love with a Lady in Court called Anaxilea, and since Cleander was his dearest Favourite, he made him the only Confident of his passion, discovering the very bottom of his heart unto him. This Lady was without dispute most fair, but her condition was so much inferior to the quality of a Lydian Prince, that he imagined Craessus would not approve of his open profession to love her. Therefore he endeavoured to disguise his thoughts, and to appear both more civil and more courtly to all Ladies in general, that thereby he might conceal his true affection from his father: Cleander then was for a while much troubled about it, but yet that business was not his greatest torment: for Madam, be pleased to know, that at the King's return unto Sardis, the Princess of Lydia appeared so admirably fair in the eyes of Cleander, that she charmed him anew, for certainly had he never seen her before, he could not have been more surprised: and indeed there was reason for it, since during the ten Months which the War lasted, her beauty was so prodigiously improved, that all the people were forced to acknowledge, never eyes did see so perfect a beauty: since therefore she had no less spirit than beauty, it is no wonder if the Soul of Cleander was not able to resist a passion which had so moving a cause; and indeed it was so high, that he began to love without hope, and love did so absolutely command his heart, that it was impossible for him to resist. At the same time there was a Prince at Sardis, named Artesilas, who was in love also with the Princess Palmis, but his passion was stuffed with ambitious thoughts. Thus it may be said that Love did take his original from the Wars: for at our return from it, the Court did put on another face, and nothing but Feasts and Gallantry were seen in it, which for a certain time did render it most delightful: but towards the end of Winter, a fresh War was talked on against the Misscans; and the Spring no sooner budded forth but Craessus took the field: An entire Summer was spent in two Sieges, and two Battles; wherein Cleander did so eminently carry himself, that as he went from Sardis only a Volunteer, so he returned Lieutenant General under the Prince Atys, who commanded the Army, towards the end of the year, in the absence of Craessus, whom some indisposition of body moved to leave the field: I understood since by one who belonged unto the Princess, and who was my Cousin, that she was much joyed at the good fortune of Cleander; telling every one that she always foresaw he was no ordinary man: After then the Misseans, the Chalibes, and the Mariandines were vanquished, we returned again to Sardis, where Cleander began again to be looked upon with other eyes: For though he was the very same he was before, yet according to the common weakness of almost all men who put a difference between virtue unfortunate, and virtue in prosperity, not only the heard of people, but also men of parts lived with him after another manner: and he himself also did lead another course of life, for since he was every day faster in the fetters of Love, because the Princess every day became more fair and amiable, therefore he was much more melancholy. Since I did plainly perceive this melancholy alteration, and saw no reasonable cause for it, I desired him to acquaint me with it: I took this freedom upon me, because the alteration in his fortune having no influence upon his heart, he loved me as well as he did before; yet notwithstanding he would not open himself unto me as I desired him: sorrow must extremely sad his Soul, before he can confess he loved, and loved the Princess Palmis; and then all came out: I did extremely chide him for entertaining a passion, which in all reason would never permit him any hopes, considering he was ignorant of his original: I used all my endeavours to cure him of that disease, which pleased him, though it did extremely torment him: I told him a hundred times, that since if he pleased he might be happy, it were mere madness, voluntarily to render himself miserable: But though he acknowledged I had good reason for what I said, yet he could do no otherwise, and in lieu of resisting his love with violence, he cherished it with care: For he saw the Princess as oft as he could possible; and discoursed with her upon all occasions; he rendered her all the services he could devise; and fettering himself, he groaned under the weight of his chains, not daring openly to complain; and though he was very happy in appearance, yet he was in reality most miserable: for when he considered, that he knew not what himself was, and for aught he saw never should, his melancholy became so insupportable, that he was not Master of his own reason, and related such a miserable story of himself, that I was no less grieved than himself. In the mean while the Prince Atys, whose quality was not less considerable with the fair Anaxilea, than his merit and affection, was so kindly treated, that a most great League of Amity grew betwixt them; and his greatest care was to hide this secret Correspondency, not only from the eyes of Craessus, but also from all the Court. This Prince conceiving he had an absolute power over the mind of Cleander, did think the best way to deceive all the world was to move him to counterfeit being in love with Anaxilea: So that sending one morning for him, and entertaining him in private, My dear Cleander, said he unto him, I can never be happy without you; and unless you help to hide my real passion, by your seeming to love Anaxilea, I shall never be able to hide my happiness, which you know will be ruined as soon as discovered: Therefore I conjure you, to court her as if you were desperately in love; and so that all the Court may believe it: which if you do (said he and embraced him) I shall be the most happy man alive: for not only all the Court will easily believe, that my thoughts are not upon her; but the King, and the Princess my sister, will believe you to be in love with her: So that in desiring this office from you which will be honourable, I hope you will not deny it: If you were in love with any, than I should not desire you to undertake it; but since I could never observe you engaged unto any in the Court, I shall not doubt of this favour. Sir (replied Cleander in a wonder at the Prince's words) I am so bad a dissembler of my own thoughts, that I am afraid I shall discover in lieu of concealing yours: and how do you think (said he hoping to turn it into a Rallary) that a man whom yourself says never was in love, should easily persuade others that he is so: believe me Sir, to beget such an opinion, it were requisite to testify the being so upon other occasions, and I do not think there is a man in the world so very unfit for this employment as myself. You have so much ingenuity and eloquence, replied the Prince of Lydia, that you would act it most admirably well: for the truth is, there is nothing requisite, but to discourse often with Anaxilea, principally when much company, and when the Princess my sister is present: since her society is very pleasant, and since you will discourse of my Love who loves you, I hope you will not be weary of her conversation. But my dear Cleander, to the end it may the sooner be divulged, and come quickly unto the King's ear, I beseech you let my Sister perceive as soon as possible you can your addresses unto Anaxilea. Cleander blushed at the Prince's words, and speaking more seriously than he did before, I know Sir, you are not ignorant (said he unto him) that I would with joy die to do you any service, whensoever any occasion presents itself; but i● I may without any crime or offence say it, I do not think I am able to perform what you desire of me. Why Cleander, replied the Prince in a little amazement, can you not for my sake discourse often with the fairest Lady in the world? Is it because you are afraid to be fettered with the chains of Love? No Sir, answered he, my respects which I owe you, would prevent that danger: But I have so strong an aversion against any dissimulation, that if I should undertake it, I am persuaded I should do it very ill. However, try, replied the Prince, unless you will lose me, or at least tell me ingenuiously your true reason why you will not; for since I am fully persuaded you love me, and knowing you to be of no fantastical humour, there must necessarily be some secret cause which moves you to deny me this favour. Truly Sir, replied Cleander, I have no other excuse then what I have already told you. Was I not much mistaken, said the Prince, when I thought you loved no body? and is there not some Beauty or other whom you love, and fear to make jealous? If it be so, said he, tell me sincerely: for if you be upon such terms with her as to trust her with a secret, I will consent you shall acquaint her with mine, and so by that course you may colour your own passion as well as mine: for I make no question, but if you love any it is such a one as hath a reasonable Soul, and will be persuaded unto that toleration: But if you be not upon such terms with her unto whom you are devoted, then tell me as much sincerely, and I have done. Cleander then was extremely nonplussed; and if some had not come in which broke off this crabbed conversation, I know not how he would have answered such pressing questions, without vexation to the Soul of the Lydian Prince. But Artesilas coming in upon a visit, Cleander had some time to think upon an answer, especially since the prince Atys had not any leisure all that day to revive the discourse: so that Cleander looking me out, and carrying me to walk in the Palace Gardens, he acquainted me with all the passage; and described his vexation of Soul, whilst he was discoursing with the Prince of Lydia, in such sad expressions, that my Soul also was much sadded in his behalf: For consider, said he, the crossness of this adventure, that I should passionately be in love with one to whom I dare not show the least sign of my affection, and also that I should be required to express a thousand testimonies of affection unto one whom I love not: And that which is the most odd of all is, that I must do this, to the end that she whom I adore, should think I am in love with her with whom I love not; and one whom he who puts me upon it would oever have me love: Ah Fortune, cried he out, is it not misery enough to love a Princess, whom I dare not acquaint with my affection, but that I myself must persuade her that I love another. Since it is so, replied I, that you dare not acquaint her with your passion, and in all likelihood never will, I conceive it need not much trouble you what ever she thinks of you. Ah Sosicles, said he, certainly you know not what love is: for you must know, that though a captivated and amorous Slave do love a Queen, he loves her yet with this incontinent wish, that she should guests at his passion: and since I must discover the very bottom of my heart unto you, this, my dear Sosicles, is the very period of all my desires. I know very well (continued Cleander) that unless I absolutely lose my Reason, I never ought to acquaint Palmis with my Love, yet I know also that unless she lose the sight of me, she must needs in time guests at my thoughts: which if once she did, my dear Sosicles, I should think myself most happy; and yet it is desired by this, that I myself should be the only obstacle unto my chief felicity: for how should ever the Princess guests at my love of her, if she think me in love with Anaxilea? Ha, no, no; I cannot obey the Prince; and though I should promise him, yet I am not able to keep my word. But, said I unto him, do you not consider that if you should incense him, he is brother unto the princess Palmis, and not acquainting her with the true cause of his complaint against you, perhaps he will speak unto her in your disadvantage? What would you have me do? answered he. I would confess unto the Prince (said I unto him) that I am in love, and never name with whom. But, replied he, do you not apprehend some fears that Atys would discover that passion, which I desire the princess Palmis should guests at? As long as you conceal the name of her you love, said I, you hazard nothing. I shall hazard all, replied he, for considering the manner how I adore this Beauty, I shall no sooner confess that I am in love, but shame will blush the secret in my face; and will, in spite of my resolution, let him see the image of my adored Palmis imprinted on my heart: For the Prince knows by his own experience, that one may love one below himself, and may as easily think it possible for one to love above ones quality as below it. Moreover, would it not highly offend him, that I should conceal my love from him, who so very confidently discovered his to me? In a word, whatsoever I know, me thinks, he ought to know it also, and to trust him but by halves, seems dangerous unto me. Then, said I unto him, I would play a little false with him, and name some other Lady in the Court. Then Sosicles, answered he, how can the Prince think I love that Lady, when he sees I never talk with her? and if I should often talk with her, how should the Princess ever imagine that I love her? After much debating upon this odd adventure, we parted without resolving upon any thing: and the next morning Cleander was as far to seek for an answer unto the Prince, as if he had not any time of preparation for it. So that since Atys could not penetrate into the depth of Cleander's heart, he grew angry that he could not move him to act as he desired; not but that Cleander used the most tender expressions to excuse himself: yet since he saw he was in love, and would not impart it to him, he took this refusal very unkindly, and valued not his verbal excuses. Atys then would press him no further, but kept at a distance, and treated him much more coldly then ordinary, so that it became the Court discourse. Since the princess Palmis did very much esteem Cleander, she asked the prince her brother the reason of this change; but he gave her such ambiguous answers, that she could not comprehend the cause: So that Cleander coming to her about an hour after, she did so press him to tell her what was the business between the prince and him, and that so urgently, as he was no less puzzled for an answer to Palmis, than he was to the prince of Lydia; he told her that he knew not the cause of his disgrace, but contented himself with being certain he never failed in any due respects unto that Prince: yet was she far unsatisfied with this answer: The business went so far that Craessus heard of it, and asked the prince his son, why there was a greater distance between him and Cleander then formerly?  
The Prince making no answer unto this question, because he durst not acquaint him with the cause, Croesus did read him a long Lecture against the inconstancy of them, who alter their opinions upon causeless grounds, commanding him not to continue any longer at a distance with him. However it chanced so, that the Prince Atis and Anaxilea fell at odds; and this Prince being of a violent disposition, did abruptly cast her off, and resolved to leave her for ever: and the Prince had no sooner broke off with her, but he had a great desire to relate this adventure unto his Sister the Princess Palmis, and the rather because indeed he knew not whom else to open his heart unto, as he never had done unto any but Cleander, unto whom he did not yet so freely speak, as usually before. So that he being one day alone with the Princess Palmis, and falling insensibly into talk of his change, he related unto her his fondness of Anaxilea, and the cause of his coldness towards Cleander: and wondering in himself at so great a change in so little a time, I did not think, Sister, said he unto her, that I should ever have disclosed my follies so freely unto you, when Cleander denied to feign a love of Anaxilea, and returned such slender excuses for it unto me: but since it is so now, that I dare open all unto you, I confess my anger of mind against Cleander begins to die, and in lieu thereof, I love him dearly: yet since I do well understand what reason he had to resist me so obstinately, I confess, that I can hardly speak unto him concerning that business which puts us at such a distance. I do conceive (answered the Princess, not suspecting Cleander was in love with her) that you ought not to think the worse of Cleander, because he refused that office: nor do I think him so culpable as you imagine him; and he would never have denied it, but because he is in love himself; for I am certain he is as much devoted unto your service as possible can be: so that I must consequently conclude, he never would have opposed the will of his Master, but out of fear he should be put to nominate his Mistress. But since I named mine unto him, replied the Prince, why should he hide his affection from me? Because, replied she, and smiled, perhaps he is a more discreet Lover than you are: and to speak truth, because it is more ordinary and safe for a Prince to trust his secret unto his Favourite, than it is for the Favourite to trust his Prince. But Sister, answered he, If Cleander be in love, how is it possible that none should perceive it? Since, I am certain, added the Princess, he is infinitely impatient to be re-invested into your favour, it is expedient I propound unto him, to become his Peacemaker, upon condition he will sincerely tell us, who it is he loves; or at the least, acknowledge unto us, he is in love with some or other. After the Princess had said so, and being indeed very desirous to know whether Cleander was in love, and with whom, she went into her Chamber: So that there being willing to divert herself, to satisfy her curiosity, and restore Cleander unto the Prince's favour, she called for him; Cleander, said she unto him, I found the Prince my brother so disposed to remit you into his former favour, that I desired speedily to acquaint you with such news as I supposed would be very welcome unto you: But in this reconcilement, there is a condition to be added, which I conceive you may without any difficulty observe: I shall never revoke, Madam, replied he, that Doom which you have pronounced: and I do esteem myself so unhappy in displeasing that Prince, for whom I would willingly have died, that to expiate my crime, there is no punishment which I would not suffer. That which at this time I desire of you, (said she, and blushed against her will) is, That you confess before my brother, and me, whether the cause which moved you to deny him that favour of counterfeiting love unto Anaxilea, was not, because you feared to make some beauty or other jealous? How Madam, (answered Cleander with wonder) are you acquainted now with that secret which the Prince would have concealed from you with so much care, at that time when I was unfortunately constrained to refuse his desired employment? Yes, said Atis, and interrupted her, she does know it: and by this you may be assured, that I shall never reveal your secret unto any; for since I have imparted it unto her, it is a sign I do no longer love Anaxilea; and since it is so, you may be assured that there is none upon earth but the Princess my Sister, unto whom I would impart a business of this nature. Sir, replied Cleander, after he had well recollected himself, I am most glad that this discourse which I hear from the mouth of the Princess, does enable me to answer sincerely, and assure you, that I never feared making any one jealous by feigning love unto Anaxilea. Your answer, replied the Princess, I do believe is more modest, then sincere: and therefore tell us more precisely, whether you are in love with any or no; if you will not tell us who it is whom you adore.  
Madam, replied Cleander, Is it not sufficient to justify myself in the opinion of the Prince, that I protest before you, I should never have disobeyed him, but because it was an absolute impossibility to do otherwise? No, answered she, it is not sufficient, for if it were, he must then do you the favour to pardon you, and to treat you as one that is culpable: whereas on the contrary, if you do as I desire you, you will justify yourself as innocent, and needs no pardon. But Madam, replied he, Suppose I should be in love with none; yet how dared I confess myself to be so insensible here at Sardis, where all that can be called beauty in the world is to be found? And suppose it true, that I were in love with any one, how do you think I could tell that unto two at one time, which perhaps I never told unto her who is the cause of my passion; and which perhaps I never shall tell her? If it be only the number of confidents, which hinders you from declaring it, replied the Prince, and smiled, I am contented you tell your secret only unto my Sister. No, no, said the Princess, I am not so indulgent as you and I expect that Cleander should acknowledge as well unto you as myself, that he is in love, otherwise I pronounce him guilty and culpable both to you and me. I would it were the pleasure of the Gods, Madam, (answered Cleander, with much confusion in his face, and looking upon her in a most passionate, but respective manner) that you could look into my heart, and there see my most secret thoughts, since if you could do so, you would there find, that I speak but what I ought to do: Truly Sister, said the Prince of Lydia, Cleander moves my pity, and I beseech you press him no further; for when I call to mind my own vexation, when any did but suspect what I desired to conceal, I cannot choose but be sensible of his: You are all goodness, replied Cleander, and more indulgent than the Princess. I do confess it, said she, and smiled; and that which does most exasperated my severity, is, to see you do not think me discreet enough to trust me with a common secret, for to tell me that you are in love, is not to tell me all your adventure and story: Well Madam, (said Cleander, even transported out of himself) if there need nothing but that to satisfy you, I do confess it, but I most humbly and heartily beseech you, ask me no further: for I had rather die a thousand deaths then tell any more. When you are fallen out with your Mistress, replied the Princess, and smiled, as the Prince my brother is with Anaxilea, we then shall know all your Gallantry, as now we do his. I do not think Madam, answered Cleander coldly, that I shall ever be so far in favour with my Mistress, as to fall out of it. Time will tell us all, said she; in the interim, I pronounce you innocent, and beseech my brother to receive you so. I know not Sister, replied Atis very pleasantly, whether after you have reconciled Cleander and me, it must not be his office to reconcile us; for you have railed so bitterly against my weakness, that I know not how I should take it. Your reason is now at too much liberty, answered the Princess, to take exceptions without a cause: but as for Cleander, since he is in love, we had need be circumspect how we speak unto him, for I have heard say, that melancholy Lovers are soon angered. By that mark, said Atis, you came to know the Prince Artesilas is in love with you. You are very apt to revenge, replied the Princess, to retort such an angry piece of raillery unto so mild an answer: Atis could not reply unto this, because Artesilas would have heard it, if he had: but since the Genius and conversation of that Prince did not please him, and since his visit had already been very long, he went away, and carried Cleander with him, who was sufficiently vexed to leave his Rival in that manner with his Mistress: he was all the rest of that day with the Prince of Lydia, who treated him according to his wont affability and freedom; but at night, when he was at liberty to confer and open himself unto me, I perceived by his discourse, that he was sick of such a disease which nothing could cure but death. Am I not most miserable, said he? for I did not deny to saign affection unto Anaxilea, but only out of fear, that the Princess whom I adored should not think that I was really in love with her: and by consequence could never imagine that I loved herself: yet now I see that my denial of the Prince Atis to do so, hath persuaded the incomparable Palmis that I am really in love with her, or else some other in the Court, as I was forced to confess; were she not thus persuaded, she would not have been so pleasant as she was, but certainly if she had any suspicion of the truth, I should have seen more signs of anger in her eyes. It seems, said I unto him, by your discourse you would have thought yourself happy in her anger: Cleander made a pause at this, and after a while consulting with himself▪ I think, said he unto me, that rather than I should die, and leave her ignorant of my love, I should be contented to see her angry: That is a favour, (replied I, and smiled) which you may easily obtain. Ah cruel friend, said he unto me, I still find you more ignorant in matters of love. But since I must open all my secrets unto you, know, that at one and the same time, I wish things which are quite contrary to one another; and that I no sooner say I should be contented to see her angry, upon condition she were acquainted with my love, but I repent of it, and had rather die then displease her. But how were you able, replied I, to tell her that you were in love? I know not that, replied he, but I know that I had no sooner acknowledged it, but I wished that I had not: for had she apprehended my real thoughts, I should have seen her eyes full of indignation: yet to my sorrow I saw she thought me in love, but never suspected it was with herself: so that I endured most miserable torment. Ask me not, Sosicles, what I would have her think, when I confess I am in love with her; for I know not myself: but I am sure of this, that to be less than a King, and love the incomparable Palmis, is the greatest folly in the world: However, that I do not know so much as whether I am the son of a Freeman, or no, yet I love her, and shall do eternally: and I cannot brook the affection of the Prince Artesilas. This being the state of things, abundance glorious and pleasant Company came to Sardis; for the Prince Abradates, second son unto the King of Susiana, who then reigned, and son unto a sister of Croesus, whom that King had married, came thither; And at the same time also, the fair Panthea, daughter unto the Prince of Clasomenes, a tributary unto Croesus, came to dwell in the Court of Lydia, with the Prince her father: so that their arrival revived all manner of diversions. There came unto Sardis also at that time a Brother of the King of Phrigia, named Adrastus, who, as it was said, had killed another of his brothers against his will, and desired to be purged from that crime by that Laws of that Country, which between the Lydians and Grecians is small difference. Since this Prince was admirably handsome, and of much spirit; and since his banishment was rather for a misfortune then a crime, Croesus received him very well, and according to the custom of Lydia, he was purified in the Temple of Jupiter, and then appeared in the Court as a strange Prince, whom every one did honour. Croesus' allowing him a subsistence, befitting his quality, and promising to endeavour a reconciliation between him and his brother, the King of Phrigia. It may be said of Croesus, that he heaped up a greater Mass of treasures together, then ever any did, and was more magnificent than any Prince upon earth; being therein much different from the young Prince Mexaris his Brother, who was not less rich than he, but was more covetous than another of his brothers, named Antaleon, was ambitious, or Croesus' liberal. The Court being then so glorious, as I have described, Esope so famous for his ingenious fables, which contained solid Morals in pleasant fictions, came thither also, and notwithstanding the ugliness of his face, and deformity of his composure, yet the beauty of his wit, and greatness of his Soul, shined so at Sardis, that he was wondrous welcome: And that this renowned Town might have men of all qualities, Solon, so famous for his Laws, came thither also, who was entertained by Croesus with all imaginable honours: So that it may be said, and rightly, that Sardis was never so full of illustrious persons as then; for every one that had any excellence in Arts throughout all Greece, either came themselves, or sent their works thither: so that which way soever one turned his eye, he might see something for his instruction, and diversion. But though this Court was the most glorious in the world, yet Cleander was there the most unhappy Lover upon earth: for though he was adored by all the Court, yet since the Princess Palmis was ignorant of his love, and he durst never acquaint her with it, he lived a life extremely melancholy: and whilst the Prince Atis, Antaleon, Mexaris, Abradates, Artesilas; and all the rest of that Illustrious Crew, were high in all delights, solitary Cleander sighed in secret, and wore only melancholy in his eyes: The Prince Mersiles, by reason of his imperfection, was also very reserved and solitary: However, this conversation did much delight the Princess, who not suspecting Cleander's love to her, was only curious to learn with whom he was in love: but with such an odd kind of curiosity (as I understood by my Cousin, who since did tell me) that not knowing any reason for it, she was really as fearful to know whom Cleander loved, as in appearance she desired it: for this Cousin told me, that the Princess discoursing one day with her concerning his passion, and bidding her to inquire concerning it, she began to reckon up all she could think upon, who might in likelihood be the cause, and though she named all the beauties in the Court, yet she could not find one who her mind did think fit for it; so that this Cousin of mine, whose name was Cylenisa, and who was much in favour with the Princess, began to laugh; Madam, said she, you would either have Cleander not in love at all, or else you would have him fix his affection much above or much below himself, for I named all the Ladies who in reason are fit for him, considering the present condition of his fortune to fix any thoughts upon: 'Tis very true, said the Princess Palmis, and blushed, but I do not look out a Mistress for Cleander, proportionable to his quality, since he knows not what it is himself; nor suitable to his fortune, which is no more than very mean, but according to his virtue and merit, which is most extraordinary; and this is the reason why I cannot guests who it is he loves, because I cannot find any one amongst all those which you have named that is worthy of his affection, and therefore I must needs conclude that he loves one that is below himself.  
Thus Madam you see what thoughts the princess of Lydia had of Cleander, who yet was oftentimes much puzzled to find answers unto her questions: for when she remembered that she told him, he would discover who it was he loved, when his Mistress and he fell out with one another, she would always, when any opportunities were offered, ask him, whether he did not yet begin to be out of favour with his Mistress; and whether ere long he would be in an humour to reveal his secret. If I should reveal it unto you Madam, replied he one day, doubtless I should be out of favour with her; but as long as I conceal it, I need not fear her anger. How Cleander, replied the Princess, cannot I know your passion, but you must be out of favour with her? and cannot you tell it unto me but she must know it? No Madam, answered he, I should no sooner confess what you desire to know, but she whom I love would know my crime, by the shame which she would discover in my eyes, and would most cruelly punish me for it. If it be so, said she and smiled, then stay till you jar, and till you be out of any fears to incense her. Thus did the Princess before she was aware give a handsome opportunity unto Cleander to discover his passion, had he been so bold as to have closed with it; yet he was extremely afraid of the disfavor of Craessus upon an odd reason. I think I have already told you, that Solon at his first coming unto Sardis was bid very welcome by that Prince: But since it is the Custom of all Great Princes to love that one should commend their Magnificence, Craessus having showed Solon all his vast Treasures, and the most prodigious Riches which his House was adorned with, he asked him, whether he had seen any in all his Voyages more happy than he was? Since Solon did not think true felicity did consist in such things, like a man of high wisdom, but a bad flatterer, he answered, that he knew many more happy than he; and amongst the rest he named one Tellus, who winning a Battle, and dying for his Country, said, That none were happy before their death. Craessus thought by this saying of Solons, that he preferred the virtue of Cleander (who was become his great Favourite) before all the King of Lidia's Riches; and that this Prince did enjoy in him a Treasure which he was ignorant of, and which was to be valued much above all the Riches which he showed him with so much delight. Since nothing does more incense the spirits of men, principally Kings, then to scorn what they esteem, Craessus could not endure this plaindealing sincerity of Solon, but the pleasant and frolic humour of Easop● did much better please him: so that this wise Solon went discontentedly from him. As Cleander had a most generous Soul, so he did endeavour to hide this injury as much as he could, and by the orders of the Princess herself had an especial care of this Athenian Lawmaker: He conducted him some thirty furlongs out of Sardis, which act of civility did so much incense Craessus, that he could not endure Cleander should be so bold as render any good office unto the man he frowned upon; and this trivial business was like to have brought a great change upon the fortunes of Cleander: but yet the Prince Atys, and the Princess of Lydia, did so intercede, that they did procure his reconciliation. In the mean while Adrastus became so desperately in love with the Princess Palmis, that Artesilas and Cleander themselves could be no deeper wounded than he. Atis also renewed his old love unto Anaxilea, in spite of his resolutions to the contrary: but it was after such a manner, as that he made no secret of it; and although Croesus did not approve of his choice, yet he expressed a hundred public testimonies of his passion to her. I think it was about this time that Abradates and Mexaris fell in love with Panthea, yet since that business is not pertinent to the story of the Princess Palmis, I shall omit the relation of it, and only tell you, that at the same time Cleander was most unhappy: Yet had he so much consolation in his misery, as to observe that the Princess of Lydia was very averse against this new Rival: but yet he knew that the Prince Atis did encourage Adrastus in his thoughts of the Princess his sister: For since the King of Phrigia had no children, and resolved never to marry again, Adrastus was in all appearance to be King: So that conceiving this marriage would be advantageous unto the Princess, he became his Advocate to persuade her and Croesus unto it: He pressed the business so very violently in favour of the prince Adrastus, that since she saw that all her reasons in excuse of her coldness to him, would not rid her of his importunities, she resolved to employ that power which Cleander had over the mind of the Prince her brother, being still ignorant of the interest which he had himself, and not knowing that he had already used his best endeavours that way: She sent then for Cleander, and causing him to come into her Closet, after she had used a Compliment or two unto him, to prepare his consent unto what she should desire of him. and after he assured her she might absolutely dispose of his very life; What I shall desire of you, said she unto him, is not perhaps so easy a business as you imagine, since to satisfy my desires it is to resist with all your power the will of a Prince who you love very well, and who also loves you infinitely: Indeed you must persuade the Prince my brother from soliciting me so earnestly in behalf of the prince Adrastus, and that it is enough he protects him in this Court, without any further importunities upon her: though I know well enough I have no reason for my aversion to him, since I know he is of an illustrious extract; and shall in all likelihoods be a King: that he is handsome, and of a Soul; that he testifies much affection to me; that the King does not dislike his design; that the prince Atis does assist him, and that my Soul is not engaged any other way: But yet for all this, I have so strong an aversion towards him, that being out of hopes to overcome it, nor ever intending to try, I conjure you by all that's dear unto you, to employ that persuasive power which I know you have over my brother, to prevent him from persecuting me any further: since I never opposed his affection unto Anaxilea, which was not very justly grounded; so, do you keep him from opposing my strong aversion to Adrastus, which I do confess also, it is not well grounded neither. I leave you, Madam, to judge what joy Cleander had, to understand from the mouth of Palmis herself, that she hated one of his Rivals: But since he was desirous to hear her express as much against another, Madam, said he unto her with much reverence, I find the prince Adrastus so unhappy in your hate, that it were a kind of cruelty not to pity him; yet I do interest myself so much in any thing which concerns you, that I must needs tell you, there is nothing (without all exceptions) which I will not do, to deliver you from his importunities. But Madam, if after your goodness to command me any thing in your service, it be permitted me to speak sincerely, I shall tell you, that one thing which most moves the Prince to protect Adrastus, is his hatred of Artesilas; and he thinks he cannot do him a more sensible displeasure, then to be a cause that you should prefer a Phrygian Prince before him. Therefore Madam (if I be not too presumptuous in speaking thus) it is your part, whilst I transact with the Prince, to transact so with Artesilas, that he be no obstacle to my obtaining what you desire. I have already told you, replied the Princess, that my affection is not engaged unto any: So that though there be not such an antipathy between me and Artesilas, as there is between me and Adrastus, yet since I am very indifferent towards him, it will be an easy matter for me to satisfy the Prince my brother in that; provided he let me have the freedom to be rigid towards Adrastus, Artesilas shall have no great cause to commend me for compliance with him. When Cleander heard the Princess express herself thus, he was so exceedingly transported with joy, that I wonder he did not make her perceive his love to her by the delight which sparkled in his eyes. It is very true, this joy did not continue long: for when he began to consider that the Princess did not suspect any thing of his passion to her; and that by all appearances he should never be able to obtain from the Prince of Lydia what he desired, his melancholy did succeed his joy: But yet his certainty to know his Rivals not loved, was such an essential cause of satisfaction, that his joys did overcome his sorrows again; and he appeared before the Princess very well contented that he had dived so deep into her Soul: Yet sometimes when he considered that the foundation of his joy was only because the Princess was not in love with any, Oh Heaven, said he, am I not out of my wits to rejoice at that I ought to lament? for is it possible ever to be happy, and not be loved? and is there any hopes of being loved, when she that is loved does not so much as know it? It is true, I am assured that the heart which I would be possessed of, is not enjoyed by any; yet I may be certain that it must never be enjoyed by me: so that which way soever I look, there is no hopes of any contentation to be found: The greatest felicity that I can expect, is only to see my Rivals as miserable as myself. However, he began to be obedient unto the Princess; and since the prince Atis was a Debtor unto him for his life ever since the Missean Wars, and moreover since he knew that the Prince was much pleased with his discourse, he used all his ingenuity and favour to dissuade him from protecting Adrastus, but yet all his persuasive arguments could not bring it about: For besides the aversion which this Prince had unto Artesilas, he had another predominate motive to affect Adrastus, which Cleander in the end discovered, which was, because Adrastus was he who had reconciled Anaxilea and him together. So that this Lady being desirous to gratify so good an office, kept him still in favour with the Prince, so that all the wit, cunning and credit which Cleander had with him, could not alter his settled resolution: he attempted to win Anaxilea unto his design, but it was impossible, for she had a secret grudge to him in her heart, because he refused to counterfeit a love unto her, and so exposed her fortunes unto danger; besides, she did conceive it to be a kind of scorn of her, when he refused that office. Cleander then being out of all hopes to obtain any thing for either of them, was in a hundred minds to quarrel with Adrastus, and so rid the Princess of him by a way more violent than she desired him: but knowing she would not approve of that action, and that then he should lose her for ever, he restrained his jealousy and his choler, and suffered an incredible anguish of mind. Whilst he was negotiating this business, the Princess, according as it was resolved betwixt them, did treat Artesilas so roughly, that Cleander would have been infinitely will pleased at it if the bad success of his business had not cooled his joys. However, it was fit he should give her an account of what he had done; and he went one morning with so many signs of sorrow in his eyes, that she knew what his answers would be as soon as he came into her Chamber: I see Cleander (said she, and came near him, lest hor women should understand what was spoken) that the Prince my brother prefers Adrastus before my quiet or your prayers, and will not alter his opinion. I am even desperate Madam, replied he, that I am forced to tell you, I have negotiated all in vain; and then he made an exact relation of what he had both done and said to bring his design about: But Madam, said he, Adrastus perhaps has some secret enemy in Court, who would quickly dispatch him, if he were assured it would not displease you. Oh no Cleander, said the Princess, I would not have another's revenge include mine; and they will extremely disoblige me, if they attempt any violent act against that Prince: Perhaps I shall find out a way to punish him for his obstinate importunities without the need of any others help; and if what you tell me be true, that the reason why the Prince protects Adrastus is because he hates Artesilas, I shall treat the Rival of the one, and the Enemy of the other, so well and kindly, that perhaps I shall divide the troubles which they procure me amongst themselves. Oh Madam (said Cleander, and was amazed at this answer) is it possible that the wisest Princess in the world should be revenged upon herself, by wishing it upon another? For Madam (said he with a double addition of extreme melancholy) did you not once do me the honour to tell me, that Artesilas was very indifferent unto you? Yes, said she unto him, but it is better to choose where one is indifferent, then where one hates. In the name of the Gods, Madam, said Cleander unto her, take up no such resolution, which if I dare say it, will cause you to be censured for one that is not fantastical: for since all the Court has been a witness of your severity to Artesilas, what will they censure when they see you change so suddenly? Certainly there is some reason for what you say, replied she, but I had rather be thought light and fantastical, then be continually persecuted both by the Prince my brother, and by Adrastus: I do confess, Cleander, that this kind of revenge is fantastical, and that I do cross myself as much as others by it; but yet I know not what course else to take. Madam (said he, and interrupted her speech, not being able to consent unto her resolution, using Artesilas kindly) allow me first some few days to consult whether I can contrive some better expedients to do you service. No, no, said she unto him, deceive not yourself and me: I have long since discovered, said she and smiled, that you love Artesilas no more than you do Adrastus, therefore perhaps for your own particular revenge you would not have me revenge myself this way: But Cleander, since you are very generous, you must not do thus, but on the contrary you ought to prefer my interest at this time before your own. Your interests Madam, replied he, shall ever be ten thousand times dearer unto me than my own; but upon this occasion I dare tell you, that if you knew all the evil which you do in favouring Artesilas, perhaps I say you would not do it. Cleander pronounced these words with so much confusion in his face, that the Princess was extremely surprised; and since she understood not the sense of them, I cannot unriddle your words, said she unto him, nor will I trouble myself about it, therefore speak more plainly, if you would have me understand you, or else speak not at all, if you think it fit I should not understand you. I think that it is the latter of these two which best becomes me, replied he, and without any exposition of those words which slipped from me unawares, I ought to thank the Gods that you did not understand them. The Princess blushed at this discourse, and by the disorder which appeared in her eyes, she let him know, that she began to understand his meaning: But since he feared she would treat him ill, if he gave her any time to descant upon his words; Madam, said he unto her, what is your pleasure I should do to give you satisfaction? That you tell me no more of any such things as I neither do nor aught to understand, replied she; and that you keep within the limits which I have prescribed, in doing 〈◊〉 that office unto my brother whensoever occasion shall present itself. I shall be most obedient Madam (answered he with a profound reverence,) and then so many infallible signs of his passion appeared in his face, that unless she had no eyes, it was impossible but she must needs perceive it: and indeed she did so clearly perceive it at that time, as she could not sufficiently wonder she perceived it no sooner: for when she called to mind all Cleander's actions, she accused herself of stupidity, that she could not see the only reason why he denied the Prince Atis to counterfeit love unto Anaxilea, was because he loved her. Afterwards when she called to mind, with what joy he undertook to prejudice Adrastus, and with what sorrow he heard her say, she would use Artesilas kindly, she was so fully persuaded of the truth, that Cleander could not wish she should know it better. Afterwards when she remembered, how urgently she pressed him to tell her whether he was in love, and with whom, she accused herself of simplicity that she did not understand the secret cause of his passion: yet the great inequality betwixt herself, and him, made her sometimes to doubt of it: For (said she to herself, as she told my Cousin Cylenisa, who after wards told me) if I believe him in love with me, than I must be offended at him; then must I deprive myself of his conversation and sight, which I confess does infinitely please me: Therefore I will not believe it, said she, but in an instant after a thousand passages coming into her fancy, she could not choose but believe it, and she resolved to receive those respects which the duty of Cleander obliged him to perform in such a manner, that he should never forget it: yet considering after all this, that Cleander had spoken nothing which might justly incense her, she thought that in respect of her honour, it were better, not to let him know she suspected any thing of his passion; so that she resolved to carry herself towards him as formerly she used.  
Thus did the business depend for some certain days, during which time she was affable enough unto Artesilas, according to her resolution. But that she might no longer doubt of Cleander's love, Cylenisa came to her in her Closet, where she was retired the better to hide that melancholy which hung upon her soul; and since she saw as much blithness in the eyes of this woman, as she herself had disposition unto melancholy; What is it Cylenisa, said she unto her, which makes you so pleasant? Madam, said she unto her, such an odd accident has happened unto me this day, that if I did not fear it would anger you, I would relate it: Is it possible, said the Princess unto her, that this odd accident which would anger me, can divert you? You shall judge Madam, said she unto her, when you know it. The Princess, who used sometimes to suffer Cylenisa to relate what news she heard, was pleased to hearken unto her, rather out of custom and indulgence, than any curiosity: Speak then, said she unto her, for I see you have so great a desire unto it, that it were pity to hinder you. Since you are pleased to give me leave Madam, replied she, be pleased to know, that one of my companions being sick, and kept her Chamber, I went one afternoon unto her, where I found divers with her, and amongst the rest Esope: as soon as I came in, you became the subject of our discourse, for you are not ignorant, Madam, that the love of Adrastus, and Artesilas, makes a great noise in the Court: and since these two Princes have both of them many partakers, a hundred thousand arguments and contests do arise thereupon, especially since they perceive you treat Artesilas with more affability then before you used: so that this discourse went on, some said the protection of the Prince Atis would have a crossing influence upon Artesilas, others were of a contrary opinion, and said, your own choice would be the destiny of those two Lovers: some added that the quality of a stranger would be an obstacle to Adrastus; others, that the being a Subject unto Croesus would choke the design of Artesilas: Indeed every one had his vie, and vented his opinion, divining the success of these two Princes, and their designs. During all this long dispute, Esope leaned upon the table close by me, and said nothing, but had an ear unto what every one spoke, and a certain kind of subtle smile in his face, which moved a belief that he spoke not so much as he thought; so that I turning towards him, How comes it to pass, said I unto him smiling, that Esope who can make the most savage Beasts speak so well, will not himself speak upon this occasion? He, I say, who is the most sociable and pleasant companion of all men living? This flattery Cylenisa, said he unto me in a low voice, deserves that I tell you after my manner a truth concerning the Subject now in discourse: for if I be not very much mistaken, all your opinions are besides the mark. In saying so, he took a piece of paper, and after a little study where he leaned upon the table, he writ something, and gave it unto me, which I have brought you to read. The Princess then taking the paper which Cylenisa presented unto her, read these words:  

The Fable of ESOPE.  
TWo Hunters were told, there was a white Hind in a Wood: they both went out to catch her with all their Nets, Dogs, Swords, and Darts, but making over great a noise they frighted her away, and forced her to fly: and in her flight she stumbled upon a young Shepherd who was asleep, whom she wounded before she was aware: The Shepherd awaked, and pursued her with his staff, but much better than the rest, for he followed her by paths more close and covert: we shall one day know whether he has taken her. But for my part Cylenisa I wish he may, and hope he will.   
As soon as the Princess had read the Letter, she blushed, and looked upon Cylenisa, Well Cylenisa, said she unto her, what do you understand by this fable? and what did he mean by it who composed it? Madam, replied she, I had no sooner read it, but all the Company was desirous to know what it was, with such earnestness as every one used to have for any thing that came from Esope: but he told them it was for me alone he writ it; so that seeing it was absolutely resolved not to show it, they were at quiet: and I began to read what now I show you: After I had read it, I confess, said I unto him, that the beginning of this fable is very pleasant, and easy to be understood; for I conceive the white Hind does represent the Princess, and the two Hunters, Adrastus and Artesilas; that the Nets, and Dogs, and the Swords, and Darts, and also the great noise, does signify the actions of those two Princes, who with all their ingenuity, policy, force, and magnificence, endeavour to obtain their desires, yet doubtless they are very stupid: I understand also, by the Hind which flies away, you mean the Princess will not be taken by those two Hunters who court her: But as for this young Shepherd who was asleep, whom the Hind wounded before she was aware, and who followed her with the rest, but, as you say, much better than they, I do confess, I know not whom you mean: But you do know him very well, said he, and smiled; upon this the Prince Myrsiles came in, Esope no sooner saw him, but he would needs take the paper from me: but I was so resolved to show it unto you, that I would by no mean part with it. The Prince Myrsiles, who observed the action of Esope, and who imagined it to be some fresh production of his wit, came towards me, and making me to understand by his ordinary signs, he seemed very desirous to see it; and notwithstanding all the dissuasions of Esope, I gave it unto this Prince, who smilingly did read it to the end, and testified by the action of his head, that he thought it very pleasant, Well Sir, said I unto him, it seems you do understand all this fable, whereas I understand only the beginning of it, I beseech you help out my dulness to interpret it. I had no sooner said so, but the Prince Myrsiles, who you know used always to carry an Inkhorn about him, the better to express himself unto those who were not accustomed unto the language of his eyes and hands, did take the paper; and just in the place where he found these words, But in flighing she stumbled upon a grand Shepherd: he writ under these words, named Cleander: and as soon as he had showed it unto me, he blotted it out again, as you may yet observe, if you will be pleased to look upon it. I do confess Madam, that I was amazed, to see that Esope who was a mere stranger, and a Prince who could not speak, should tell me Court news. For indeed Madam, said Cylenisa and smiled, if I be not much mistaken, this fable does comprehend that truth. I see you are easy to be persuaded, said the Princess unto her, since a man whose profession is to tell lies; and another who cannot be very well instructed with news, can in so short a time persuade you of a thing which is never like to be: the Princess Palmis spoke this so faintly, that Cylenisa knew some angry thoughts did trouble her; and since the Princess did always love her: Madam, said she, I am afraid I have committed a fault in troubling you with trifles and follies, at a time when perhaps you had more serious matters of importance in your mind: but the honours which you have often done me, in trusting me with your most secret thoughts, made me believe you were not very serious, since I knew it not: The Princess who was so full of disquiet thoughts, that her heart could not contain them, resolved to make Cylenisa, her Cabinet confident: so that she acquainted her with all her thoughts concerning Cleander's passion. However, said she, since I do esteem him very much, and since I believe in respect of my honour, he would not have me know his folly, I am resolved to live with him as I used to do, and as I have already begun: But yet for all this which I have told you Cylenisa, there is something more to be considered; for since strangers and dumb men can perceive it, many others will shortly do the like, therefore it is good to begin in time to carry myself so, as there shall be no suspicion that I contribute any thing unto the extravagancies of Cleander, if it come to be known. Madam (said Cylenisa, after a little time of consideration) I do less wonder than I did before, that the Prince Myrsiles and Esope should sooner discover things then other men; for besides that both of them are more ingenious than others are, they have also more leisure to observe the actions of others; one as a stranger who has nothing else to do in the place where he is, and the other nothing else but to hearken and observe. However Cylenisa, said the Princess, they do know it, and they can make others know it also; besides how can I know but that Esope composed this fable by the appointment of Cleander, who I know has sent him many Presents. This cannot be, replied Cylenisa, for he could not guests when he came into the Company, what things would be discoursed upon, which would give him such a subject to work upon as this. Moreover, Madam, you see this fable is not historical, since he speaks towards the end of it, as if he knew perfectly that Cleander should one day win your heart from Adrastus and Artesilas. That's it which affrights me, Cylenisa, and offends me both, replied she, for truly I find Esope very bold in daring to think this of a man whose quality he knows not; And I also find him very incomprehensible, said she, and blushed, to see he should penetrate so into the bottom of my heart, as to know that if Cleander's condition were the same that Adrastus and Artesilas is, he should perhaps make his fable as true at the end of it, as the beginning is: but since it is not, I must deceive Esope; make the Prince Myrsiles change his opinion, and cure Cleander, if it be possible. The last of these will be the most difficult, replied Cylenisa. I do not think it, said the Princess, since Cleander has a reasonable soul: He should not be in love if he had so, replied Cylenisa. But from whence comes it, said the Princess to her, that you are so much persuaded of the greatness of Cleander's passion: you, I say, who within this day did not so much as suspect it. The reason is, Madam, answered she, because I could never apply my observations until now: but now, when I call to mind a hundred things which he hath spoke unto me, and as many other things which I have seen him do, I think that I was then blind in not seeing the cause: I remember one night, when my companions and I moved Esope to relate unto us his love of that Beauty which was called Rhodopha, who was with the Philosopher Xanthus, at the time when he dwelled there also, Cleander who was present at that Relation after it was ended, and every one commended him: For my part, said she unto him, I think you so happy to have worn the ●etters of the fair Rhodopha, that I could envy you: for certainly it is a great misery unto those in love, when they must lift up their eyes too high, when they look upon her they adore; and doubtless it is an infinite happiness to meet the party loved upon equal terms, and where his services may be valued when they are rendered unto the party adored: I do confess, that then I harkened unto this discourse, and took no notice of it: but now I know the hidden mystery of it, and can apply it: I remember again, one day when the Princess Clasomina came to Sardis, one day I say when you were so admirably dressed, and when all the eyes in the Court were dazzled at your lustre, Cleander was very pleasant with my companions and myself, who were speaking of your beauty, and we told him that it was a great happiness for all men of his rank, and for all beauties whose aims were to conquer hearts, that your quality was so much above them, as you would not hinder them in captivating Lovers, and causing them to break their chains to assume yours: And why Cylenisa, said he unto me, do you think there is none but Kings and Princes have eyes to admire what is fair, and that have hearts to love them? I say not so, replied I unto him, but I say, that since the daughters of Kings, must not look upon other hearts than those of Kings; none will presume to offer theirs that are not so. Beauty, said he, makes subjects of all conditions; and as the fair Anaxilea has made the Son of her Sovereign a Slave; so Queens may make their Subjects their Adorers: I do confess, that I heard Cleander then speak, as one that only helped on with discourse, but now I call to mind the Air in which he expressed himself, and now I see his passion, not only in his eyes, but in his heart. I am very angry, said the Princess; and she spoke this after such a manner, as let Cylenisa know, that if there were none but she who could perceive it, and that Cleander would not suspect she had any knowledge of it, perhaps she would not have been incensed against him: But since the Prince Myrsiles, Esope, and Cylenisa knew it, she could not endure it, but resolved to treat Cleander very severely, though she esteemed him very much, and though doubtless she did already love him more than she thought she did. In the mean while, Cleander, who yet knew not what the Princess Palmis had determined against him, though it grieved him to see Artesilas more kindly treated then ordinary, yet he had some minutes of consolation, to see that after he was so bold as to tell her what he did, yet she did not treat him worse than usual: for though she feigned not to understand the ambiguity of his words, yet she was not deceived; and he thought many times he discovered in the eyes of the Princess, that she did perfectly understand him: but he enjoyed this consolation not long, because since she knew the thoughts of the Prince Myrsiles and Esope, she changed her way of behaviour towards him, and lived with him, in much more coldness and reserved then before; but yet she could never bring herself to that rigid severity which she resolved upon; however as mild as she was, Cleander did so resent it, that he thought he should have died with sorrow: Mean while, Adrastus having still the Prince of Lidia's protection, and also gained the consent of Croesus; the marriage between the Princess and him, was talked on, as a thing almost absolutely done; it was not openly reported, but every one whispered it in the ear. Indeed it might be said, that it was one of those public secrets which are often in Court, whereof every one makes a mystery, yet none are ignorant of it: so that Cleander and Artesilas were not a little puzzled as well as the Princess, who could not by any means resolve upon this marriage. During which time Cylenisa did often ask Esope in a raillery, whether he thought still the Shepherd would take the Hind: I know not well yet whether he will catch her or no, answered he, but I know very well the Hunters never will. Things standing upon these terms, and Croesus' loving the Prince Atis so very well, that he did not so much oppose his marriage with Anaxilea, many prodigious signs did appear, which signified that this young Prince should die by a Dart. Croesus also had a dream, which passed for an Apparition amongst those who professed knowledge in such things, which showed him the body of his son dead, and run through with the point of a Javelin, with so many other such sad and frighting objects, that this great and wise Prince was astonished at them: so that all the Court looked sad upon the matter, yet the soul of the Prince was not at all dismayed, neither did it interrupt his Gallantry: every one was busy in divining which way this disaster should happen; for peace flourished throughout all the Kingdom, and the Prince was hated by none. Those who knew the ambitious humour of Antaleon, Brother of Croesus, did apprehend some close conspiracy, and for many days nothing else was spoken of but these disastrous predictions: Croesus caused all the Arms, Darts, Spears, Javelins, to be taken out of his Palace; and he was as vigilant as many men are, who by their own prudence think to prevent the predestinate will of the Gods, he forgot nothing which he thought fit to preserve the Prince his son, whom he looked upon as his only Successor, making no account of the Prince Myrsiles, because of his imperfection: a long time passed on, and no misfortune befell the Prince Atis, so that all cogitations of danger were hushed, except the mind of Croesus, who was so extremely possessed with apprehensions of fear, that he began to think of marrying his son immediately. But the grand difficulty was to choose a wife, for none but Anaxilea would please him, and Croesus would have chose another. Yet notwithstanding the Prince Adrastus began to stagger a little in his mind: my father did him very great service at the request of Cleander, who thought it would be advantageous unto him, to give an example of unequal alliance; to lessen the value that was set upon Adrastus, and to satisfy the Prince Atis.  
In conclusion, Sir, this marriage was solemnised with much magnificence, but not with much joy unto any, except the two Lovers, and Adrastus: Croesus did but give half a consent; The Princess Palmis was much unsatisfied to see the daughter of an inferior to sit above her: Antaleon and Mexaris who should not have been very glad that this Prince had married a Queen, could not be glad to see him marry his Subject: Artesilas and Cleander, who conceived this marriage would authorise Adrastus were angry at it, for Cleander did but serve him out of cunning, and because he could not help it: The Prince Myrsiles was ever melancholy for his own misfortune, so that a far more illustrious alliance than this could not rejoice him. Abradates' only and the Princess of Clasomenes were absolutely unconcerned, and took no part, only as Lovers of the Princess Palmis. But Cleander was he who had greatest cause of sorrow, for it was talked aloud, that the marriage of Adrastus would presently be solemnised. About four or five days after the marriage of Anaxilea, the Missians sent to avertise Croesus, that they had in their Country about the Mountain Olympus, a Boar of an extraordinary and prodigious greatness, which wasted all their corn, and made their fields even desolate, beseeching the King to send some courageous men, with all fit accoutrements for the Chase, to deliver them from this terrible Animal, which might pass rather for a fearful Monster, than a Boar: Croesus consented to their desires, but as he was speaking unto his officers about it, the Prince Atis who heard of the business, came in; Adrastus, Artesilas, Abradates, Cleander, and many others followed him; Atis told the King his father, that he intended to be at the Chase: Croesus, who still was possessed with his old fears did oppose against his design with much obstinacy; but since the Prince could not endure to pass in the opinion of his people, for one that never would hazard himself in any dangers, was resolute, and would needs go. Yet he had hardly prevailed with Croesus, had he not bethought of one way which convinced him. You say Sir, said he, my death is threatened with an arrow, but I go not unto a place where any will be thrown at me: Had the prediction been, I should have been pulled in p●ece b●a wild Beast, than you had reason to prevent my going unto the Chase: but since it is not, what cause of fears have you? The Prince Adrastus, said he, and smiled, will not kill me, no more Artesilas, Abradates, or Cleander; so that since there is none to fight against but a wild beast which throws no Darts, nor has any Arms, but what nature gave him; Me thinks, Sir, you should not command me that thing, which would be obeyed, but against my will. What will your Subject say, Sir, when they see, I dare not go unto a poor hunting? Can they ever think I dare fight and win battles, when I dare not so much as fight with a poor Animal? At the last, Madam, Croesus did consent; and every one prepared for this Chase: But when the Prince was ready to depart, the King took Adrastus aside, and told him, that since the Prince his Son was his Protector, so he desired him to be his upon this occasion. Sir (said Adrastus to him, extremely rejoicing at this confidence which Croesus put in him) if I do not safely bring back the Prince, and victorious, deny me all the favours that ever I shall ask, or can hope for from you. After this Madam, they went unto this hunting, in the most magnificent manner that ever was seen in Lydia: Cleander went to take his leave of the Princess Palmis, but there was so much company present, that the adieu was not private, nor any thing passed which was observable: The Prince Myrsiles, and Meaxis also, went unto this Hunting: and as Esope saw them depart, Cylenisa asked him again, whether the Shepherd was amongst the Hunters? Yes, said he unto her, but they go not to hunt the Hind, though it were much better for them they did: When this gallant Troop of Princes and Grandees, which disserted the Court, came to the Mountain Olympus, they began to be in Quest of this Boar, and when they had discovered his Den, they compassed him about on all sides, and every one strove to get the first blow at this terrible Beast, which by his mostrous greatness did affright all Beholders: they came near him, and threw all their Darts: That which the Prince did throw did miss the Beast, so likewise did the Darts of Adrastus, Meaxaris, Abradates, and others, but Cleander's Dart did hit him, and mortally wounded him; whilst he was drawing his Sword against this wild beast, Adrastus being envious of Cleander's honour, and missing his aim at that time did throw a second Dart, which as all Asia knows, pierced through the heart of the Prince Atis, who had changed his place, since Adrastus looked upon him: The fall of this Prince caused all those who saw him to cry out: so that Cleander (who was busy with the Boar, and by giving him a great blow in the body, which made him fall, turned his head, thinking the cry had been for joy of his victory, but discerning better the doleful tone of those sorrowful voices, he left his fierce enemy rolling in his own blood, to go where the rest of the company were: But he was extremely dismayed to see the Prince Atis dead, and Adrastus so furious and desperate, that never sorrow was seen comparable unto his; Cleander hearing it was Arastus; which killed him, and being transported with grief, went towards him with his Sword drawn, but seeing that all the rest of the Princes who were more interested in the loss than he was, did pity him, he did pity him also, and indeed to speak the truth, Adrastus was in a condition fitter to move compassion then choler; for I never in my life saw one in a more sad and lamentable condition: he had such a furious sorrow in his countenance, and so many signs of despair in all his words; that his pitiful estate is neither expressible, nor imaginable: The truth is, Madam, he offered several times to kill himself, and they were compelled to take away his Sword, and watch him. They sent to advertise Croesus of the accident, and we all followed the Coach which carried the Prince of Lidia's Corpse: never return from hunting was more sad than this: nor never accident more mournful and amazing. Croesus' was so grieved, no man could be more; he called upon Jupiter the Expiator for help; He invoked the Gods of friendship and hospitality, whom Adrastus had violated: he complained that ever he should receive into his Court the Murderer of his Son, thinking he had entertained a grateful Guests: he invoked the God of friendship, because he met with his most mortal enemy in him, to whom he trusted his Son, and to whom he would have married his daughter: The Princess Anaxilea, and the Princess Palmis, were exceeding grieved: in the mean time we brought the Corpse of the Lydian Prince to Sardis: Then did Croesus see it come into the Court of his Palace, the man who killed him following, for he would never be out of sight of it: At this sight Croesus resented more sorrow than can be told or thought: The conditions of Cleander and Adrastus were quite different, Cleander had killed the Boar which was the cause of the hunting, and would have destroyed the Province: Adrastus killed the Successor of a great King, the Son of his protector, and his protector himself: and which was most dismal of all, the Brother of that Princess whom he loved, and hoped ere long to have married: he had so much sorrow, so much rage, and so many several confusions in his eyes, as I never saw the like; They would gladly have kept him from the sight of Croesus, but he escaped from them that would have restrained him, and ran to present himself unto that prince, but in such moving language, that he melced the hearts of his very Rivals: he asked what punishment he would appoint him? he desired him to pronounce that which was most rigorous, and conjured him to make haste, and he spoke indeed as if he did really desire death; he called upon the name of the Princess amidst his complaints against himself, and without any design at all to live, he said as much as possible could be to move Croesus for a pardon of his crime, which indeed was not a crime, but a most sad misfortune, and worthy of pity: Croesus himself was moved unto compassion, and like a great and generous Prince did pardon him, desiring him only to leave him at liberty to lament his misfortune.  
Adrastus then did leave him, and was conducted unto his lodging, where they guarded him: but the next morning, he understanding that they would carry the Corpse of the Prince Atis unto a stately Tomb, which Alliaete had caused to be built upon the banks of a Lake, called the Lake of Gyges', he stole from his guards the night following, and run like a madman to this magnificent Tomb, where he was no sooner come, than he got up unto the top of a pinnacle which was amongst the Statues, and fell from thence with open arms upon the point of his sword which he had taken with him, in the sight of those which followed him, who there overtook him just at break of day. Thus punishing himself, he deserved the laments of all them who had greatest cause to accuse him for their misfortunes: Croesus considering his Royal birth, his repentance testified by his blood, and his extraordinary misfortune, caused his Corpse to be laid in the stately Tomb with Prince Atis, with an inscription suitable to so strange an adventure. After this fatal accident, Cleander began to grow in favour with Croesus, who looked upon him as the only man who was fit to establish the Sceptre after his death, in the hands of the Prince Myrsiles. Antaleon opposed these thoughts; for this ambitious Prince, in prejudice of his Nephew, pretended to the Crown. However, since there are no sorrows so sad but time does cure them, or at the least mitigate them, every one began to cheer up himself for the death of Atis; and Cleander having now no more Rivals, was something less unhappy than before. Moreover, the Princess Palmis, having no thoughts of revenge for her brother the Prince Atis, or scorn for Adrastus, began to treat Artesilas as at first, that is to say, with much more rigour: but since she had used much coldness towards Cleander, she knew not what to think, or could she contrive it handsomely how to bring herself unto the same terms with him: she saw him so infinitely respective unto her, that she could not in justice accuse him; nor had any desires of using him rigorously. In the mean while, the several Interests of Croesus did beget him several causes of War against the Ephesians, and he raised a puissant Army, whereof Cleander was Lieutenant General: For since Abradates could not engage himself, not knowing when the King his father would call him back, and since the prince Myrsiles, by reason of his imperfection, was not fit for that employment, the Illustrious Cleander had the honour; the King for divers secret reasons of State, having no mind to employ either Antaleon, or Mexaris, or Artesilas, who did extremely murmur at it. But how great soever this honour was, Cleander did but imperfectly enjoy it, when he considered that the Princess did not yet certainly know that he was in love with her; or if she did suspect some such thing, she neither would nor could approve of it; he knew not well whether he should dare to take so much boldness upon him, as to discover his mind a little more plainly unto her; and he was very much unresolved upon it, when Esope, who loved him extremely well, came to see him, and to show him in private before he departed all the story of the Court, which he had composed in Fables with Morals upon them; for though this work was his Masterpiece, yet he had showed it unto very few, because since it contained all the Privacies and Gallantries of the Court, he did not think it fit to expose it unto public view: Esope then being come to show Cleander this pleasant work, as esteeming his approbation above all the Court besides; after he had read over many ingenious Fables, relating unto several passages, Cleander found that which Esope had made for him: and given in a paper to Cylenisa, and since he understood it not, he asked the meaning of it; Sir, said Esope unto him, I do not think it so difficult; for some who come short of your wit, and who have not so much knowledge of the things it represents, have perfectly found out the mystery of it. Cleander became much more inquisitive than before, and did so urge him to the interpretation of it, that at the last he moved him to tell the true meaning of it, and all the passages: yet he no sooner knew it, but having no power to dissemble his thoughts, Oh Esope, said Cleander, what have you done? I have done that, replied he, which perhaps you never durst do. I do confess it (replied Cleander, who after he had recollected himself, would have disguized his thoughts) for I do not know so well as you, how to dissemble a truth, and I have no mind to tell a lie: However Esope, said he, if Cylenisa did believe you, and acquainted the Princess with your Error, into what a condition have you brought me? But Sir, replied Esope, if perhaps it be so, that you really are in love with the Princess Palmis, and did never acquaint her with it, nor ever would, what condition were you then in? was it not a happy turn for you, that Esope was so bold as to discover that which you yourself never durst? No, replied Cleander, for such a man as I, who knows not what himself is and who has nothing but what is in the hands of Fortune, may very well suppose, that the Princess Palmis will think 〈◊〉 cannot love her without a most manifest wrong unto her. Believe it Sir, 〈◊〉 Esope unto him, that 〈◊〉 never wrongs a fair Lady in loving her, of what quality soever she be, and of what quality soever he be that adores her, provided he go no further than love her. But, answered Cleander, Esope by his own confession did love one that was only a S●●ve. But, replied he, Cleander in loving a Princess, loves a fair Princess, and whosoever is fair, Sir, is certainly one whose greatest delight is to be thought and respected so: Yes Sir, I will maintain, that a fair Queen does always prefer a slave of her beauty, before all her subjects which birth only gave her; and a Conquest gotten by her eyes, will be a thousand thousand times more dear unto her then all the victories she can get with a hundred thousand men: therefore Sir, though I have made Cylenisa believe you were in love with the Princess of Lydia, and though she hath persuaded her of as much, yet I warrant you, you will never be worse in her esteem. Yet I perceived, said Cleander, that about the same time you say you composed this Fable, the Princess did treat me with more coldness than ever she did before. That is a sign, answered Esope, you are more in her heart, than ever you thought of: for if she did not fear you, and if she did not indeed fear herself, she would never fly from a man whom she esteems very much. I pray think Sir, said he and smiled, that since I have taken so much pains to find out the natures of Foxes, Tigers, Bears, and Lions, I am not altogether ignorant in the physiognomies of fair women, which are a million of millions of times more delightful objects than any wild Animals; and therefore be assured from me, that she hates you not, and that my Fable will one day prove as true in the end as in the beginning of it. Though Cleander knew very well that Esope was both wise and subtle, yet he never had power to confess unto him that he loved the Princess: he only desired him not to show this Fable unto any, not to speak any more of his errors, lest he should persuade others to believe them. As they were thus in discourse, I came in; and as soon as Esope was gone, Cleander acquainted me with all their Conference; and told me, that certainly he was the cause of the Princess being so reserved and cold towards him: he was extremely desirous to know the truth: for though her coldness to him was an intolerable torment, yet if he were once certain she knew his passion, it would be some ease unto him; for yet he observed she used neither any incivility nor any scorn of him: So after he had well consulted with himself; he resolved to go and take his leave of the Princess, at such a time as when few were with her, and to be cleared of his doubts: he was so circumspect to inquire the fittest opportunity, that indeed he found her alone: After the first Compliments, which related only to his Voyage; and after the Princess had recommended the person of the King, and the person of Myrsiles unto his care; Madam, said he unto her, doubtless you will think me most presumptuously bold, in beseeching you to honour me so far as to tell me, whether ever I committed any fault against those due respects which I owe you, and which moved you to lessen your obliging goodness, wherewith heretofore you were pleased to honour me withal. It plainly appears, replied she, that I put abundance of confidence in you, since I have recommended unto your care two persons whom I esteem most dear of all the world. Without all doubt, Madam, I am infinitely obliged unto you for it, replied he; but Madam, since I am persuaded, that he who loseth an inestimable Jewel, and never misseth or complaineth of his loss, seems that he did very little esteem it; and I think you cannot in reason be offended, if I lament the change which I observed in my happiness: yet in all my complaints and lamentations, I do not accuse you of any injustice, but do most humbly beseech you to tell me, what crime I have committed, which might merit that misfortune? Cleander has so much wit (replied she, and both smiled and blushed) that if he have committed a crime, doubtless it was with his own consent, and by consequence not easy for him to repent of it, or necessary to accuse himself: But, said she, with a more serious countenance, I do not know that ever you did me any ill offices; and if you did observe any alteration in my humour, it was only since the death of my brother, when I could not have the same dispositions to any joys, as before I might have. Madam answered Cleander, my misfortune did precede that of that unhappy Prince: Then perhaps, replied she, I had one fault more than I knew of; and this may be added unto the number of my others, that I am of an ill humour. The Gods preserve me said he, from accusing the most accomplished Princess upon Earth, of the least imperfection; No, no, Mdam, you do not, or will not understand me: for I do not accuse you of any thing; but if you find me culpable, I conjure you to accuse me, that I may repent and correct myself, and that I may ask you pardon for it. Truly Cleander, replied she, I do not think there was ever any so earnest and desirous to be thought criminal, as you: but for your satisfaction and mine both, take notice of one thing I pray you, which is, that if I do not tell a thing the first time that any one asks me, they ask me ever after in vain, for I will never tell it. Then Madam, answered he, shall I never know my fault? Search in your own heart for your satisfaction, said she, and not in my words: If you be innocent, rest quiet, for I never do any injustice; if you be not, repent and correct yourself, but howsoever let us talk no more of it; and be assured, that whether you be innocent or culpable, I heartily wish you may bring back the King my father victorious over his Enemies, and that your honour may every day grow greater. Since there never shall be any thing more dear unto me then to obey you, replied he, command me something, I beseech you, wherein I may do you service. It is enough, answered she, that I desire you to have a care of the King my father, and the Prince my brother: if it be not, I conjure you further to have a care of your own person, and not to expose it unto too many dangers, since it is so dear unto them. The Princess upon these words rise up, and Cleander was forced to leave her, not having any power to speak more plainly of his Love unto her: yet had he so much consolation from this visit, to know she understood his passion, and to find her much more affable than ordinary. He departed then with as violent desires to merit the esteem of this Princess by his high actions, and to render his life as glorious, as his birth was obscure, that it is no wonder he performed such gallant things in the Ephesian War. I shall not make a Relation unto you, Madam, of all the passages there: for all Asia knows, that many Battles were fought, wherein Cleander had all the glory: That afterwards he went to besiege Ephesus; and though the Inhabitants thought themselves most safe by a superstitious Ceremony of drawing a Line from the old Town to the Temple of Diana, as putting themselves under her protection, yet they were compelled to render themselves, maugre the stout resistance of a courageous stranger who was in the Town. But certainly, to relate things as really they were, the taking of Ephesus was so particularly the act of Cleander, that Croesus had no share in the honour of that Conquest; for he being fallen sick, it was Cleander who did all at this siege, which was one of the most memorable acts that has been heard of: Artesilas neither had the good fortune to be there, because he was much wounded at the first Battle which was given unto the Enemies: Cleander only had the glory of it all, whereof Croesus himself sent to advertise his daughter in a very advantageous manner for him: But as the time of keeping the field was almost at an end, and as he was in hopes to return unto Sardis, to reap the sweet fruits of his victories in the favourable looks of the Princess, the Misseans, the Dorians, and the Pamphilians did all confederate together against Croesus, who resolved to prevent them: He sent then to the King of Phrigia for aid; but since he was engaged at that time with the King of Pontus he denied him, so that he was forced to go upon his own legs. But Madam, the valour of Cleander was become so terrible unto all these people, that he ended this War as happily as the other, though it was in the Winter time. Since Croesus saw that Fortune smiled upon him, he would not stay there: but whilst the King of Phrigia was busy with the King of Pontus, he entered at the beginning of the Spring into the Dominions of that Prince, presently after those two Kings had lost two Battles in one day. So that the King of Phrigia with his broken Troops was constrained to return for defence of his own Kingdom, and leave that of his Allies. As this Prince was very gallant, Croesus found greater resistance from him than he did before, and the valour of Cleander did find a glorious subject to work upon. Since Phrigia is not very full of Towns, almost all this War was performed in Schirmishes and Battles; but they were so frequent and so glorious for Cleander, that Croesus could not choose but admire how extremely he was obliged unto Mineceus and my father, for giving him a man of so heroic a courage: The King of Phrigia did fight in person with Cleander, who thought once to have killed him, but as he lifted up his arm a thought came into his mind, which made him change his blow, and turned it upon another next the King of Phrigia, whom he killed at that blow, saying in himself, Perhaps I am born a Subject unto that King. In short Madam, after the King of Phrigia was forced to retreat into Apamea, and the season of the year growing very bad, Cleander, after he had put his Troops into their Winter quarters, returned unto Sardis, after a complete year since he had been there: 'Tis true, Renown did speak so high in his behalf to the Princess Palmis, that she could not forget him; yet she would not admit of his passion, and I know not whether or no she had some kind of fears that absence had changed his heart. Croesus' was received with high magnificence, and Cleander was looked upon as the Conqueror of many Nations, and in that posture wherein he came to Sardis, there was none could come in competition with him, but every one esteemed himself happy in his favourable looks. But Madam, in the midst of all these Triumphs, Love did triumph over the heart of Cleander: And he was more terrified that day he was to see the Princess, than he was in all the days of Battle: for he went to fight in hopes to overcome, but he exposed himself unto the looks of his Princess in certainty to be overcome, and in uncertainty of being kindly treated. The first address unto her was in the presence of the King, who in favour of Cleander told the Princess his daughter, that she should regard him as the only Conqueror, and as the greatest stay of his Empire: Cleander answered unto this with much modesty, and the Princess did second the King her father with many obliging civilities. But the next morning Cleander were himself alone to wait upon her, and she entertained him, neither with her former freedom, nor her latter coldness: As she was grown more fair, so he more amorous; and as victories does elevate Souls, and infuse a kind of handsome boldness, which is very much becoming if it be mixed with modesty, so Cleander was grown incomparable more amiable than ever he was; and on the contrary, Artesilas, much less, for his envy at Cleander's glory, did make him of so bad an humour, that every one shunned him: so that he coming unto the Princess as Cleander was with her, she did so palpably perceive the difference between them, that she could not choose at night, in speaking unto Cyl●nisa, but wish, that Cleander had the birth of Artesilas, or that Artesilas had all the good qualities of Cleander. However, though she saw he was infinitely honoured by all, and Croesus esteemed him exceedingly, the Prince Myrsiles loved him most tenderly, and thought he was adored by all the world, yet for all this he esteemed himself very unhappy: for when he began to consider, that he knew not who himself was, and that in all likelihood this incertainty of his birth would be an invincible obstacle unto an happy success in his passion, he grew past all consolation, and all additaments of honour did rather increase then diminish his sorrows. But Madam, these great favours upon Cleander eclipsing Antaleon, that ambitious Prince, who thirsted after the Crown did secretly treat with Artasilas, unto whom he promised the Princess Palmis his Niece in marriage, if he would help him to kill Cressus●nd ●nd the Prince Myrsiles. This Conspiracy was so horrid, that I will not trouble you with a particular relation of it: for when I consider that a brother would murder a brother and a Nephew, and that a Lover should imbrue his hands in the blood of a Father unto his Mistress, I apprehend such horrors, that I must needs pass them over very slightly, and tell you, that Esope, who was yet at Sardis, having smelled out this Conspiracy, did acquaint Cleander with it, who went so prudently to work, that he did not only discover the whole Plot, but also quashed it: Antaleon was forced to fly for refuge to the Phrygian King, but he never reached so far, for in his going thither he fell down a Precipice, and so hurt himself, that within a few days after death became his sanctuary; for it seems the Gods would defer no longer the punishment of so black a Crime. As for Artesilas, nothing could be proved directly against him; and though afterwards it came to light that he was of the Conspiracy, yet he stayed in the Court as if he had been innocent: 'Tis true, he durst not any longer show himself openly as a Lover of the Princess, for if she would have hearkened unto any professions of love, Cleander would have been near his happiness: For Croesus thought himself so infinitely obliged unto him for this last piece of service, that he esteemed all his Treasures too mean a recompense for it: The Prince Myrsiles for his part, being a debtor unto him for his life, thought him worthy of all things; so that though he knew Cleander was in love with the Princess his sister, yet he would never take any notice of it. In the mean while Cleander, not being able to live and not have liberty to publish his love to her who caused it, did lead a most melancholy life; and the Princess also, not being able to forbear an expression of too high an esteem of Cleander, was extremely troubled: For said she one day to Cylenisa, Though this esteem do me no other hurt, but to hinder me from loving him whom my Father would have me marry, is not that too much? and aught I not to wish that I had never seen him? As I think, said Cylenisa, that would be an unjust wish, and Cleander perhaps has more reason than you, to wish he had never seen your beauty. You know Madam, that the King is his Debtor for many victories, and you yourself do owe him for the lives of two Princes who are most dear unto you; but as for him, I do not see, that he is obliged unto you at all, for truly you use him very coldly, because you are obliged to him, and you wish you had never seen him, because he is very handsome and amiable; there is not much reason or justice in these wishes. I believe, said the Princess, and smiled, that Esope has suborned you to help to make his Fable true; As Cylenisa was about to answer, the Captain of the Guard unto Croesus, who always loved Antaleon very well, though none perceived it, and who by that consequence had not overmuch love for Cleander, came to the Princess to tell her a piece of news which he thought deserved a recompense, though perhaps it would not be pleasing. Madam, said he unto her, I beg your pardon for coming to tell you a thing which doubtless will much trouble you, but since by knowing it in time you may perhaps find a remedy, I therefore no sooner knew it but I came to acquaint you. The Princess thinking it to be some new Conspiracy, thanked him for his zeal unto her service, and desired him to speak the business. Madam, replied he, the business is so strange, that I dare hardly tell you, for truly I was told by an Officer of the King's house as a very great secret, that the King has a design to marry you unto Cleander, to the end he may assist the prince Myrsiles, to support the Sceptre after his death: he seemed to be fearful you would not consent unto it, because the original of Cleander was not known; this refusal of yours he said would anger him very much, but he would never force you unto it. Therefore Madam, conceiving you might prevent so great a misery by a courageous resistance, I came in all haste to tell you what I knew concerning this strange design, for knowing your great Soul as I do, I believed you would never consent unto such a thing as would be so dishonourable unto you, as this. The princess Palmis, being extremely surprised at this man's discourse, and not knowing what to think of it, thanked him for his zeal, and told him she would see him recompensed: but she conjured him to observe two things; the one, not to speak unto any one whosoever of this business which he told her; the other, not to accustom those who are under his charge, to dive into the secrets of Kings, or at least not to discover them; that in the mean time he might believe, she would carry herself in the business, as reason and virtue required. Here Madam, may be admired the capricious humour of Love, especially in the spirits of the wisest persons. The princess Palmis did infinitely esteem Cleander, and perhaps did love him with tenderness enough: Yet as soon as she understood that Croesus would have her marry him, the obscurity of his original did so much trouble her mind, that she knew not what resolution to take: She would not have Cleander leave loving her, and yet she would not have him tell her that he did love her; and she could by no means consent to marry one that was not known what he was: Yet his virtue is so transcendent and apparent (would this Princess say) but his birth is so obscure, that he himself knows not what it is: For all that Madam (would Cilenisa say) you know he is worthy of all things; he is owner of as many virtues as the greatest Prince upon Earth can wish to have; his valour has set him above all the King your father's Subjects; if all his Conquests were really his own, as all the glory of them is, he would be one of the most puissant Princes in all Asia: The first King's Madam, said Cylenisa, perhaps were not extracted from so good a house as Cleander; for truly, I have heard say, he was found in a most rich Mantle, made of the purest Cloth of Gold; the Picture of his Mother and himself was set in a most manificent Border, which are strong arguments his original cannot be base. He may perhaps be born of parents rich enough, replied the Princess, yet that is not enough to satisfy me: I know Cylenisa, that birth and death is alike to all, both Kings and Subjects; and that the vanity to boast of Predecessors, has but a bad foundation; but yet for all that, this illustrious Chimaera, which flatters up the hearts of all men, is so universally established throughout all the Earth, that it is not contemptible. But yet Madam, said Cylenisa, it must be confessed that birth only is not very considerable: for if the son of the greatest King in the world were in love with you, and suppose he had all imaginable faults, and not one good quality, certainly you would never love him: all the Grandeur of his illustrious Grandfathers and all their virtues, would not invite you to esteem him. 'Tis very true, said the Princess, I should scorn him and hate him more than another who had not the same vices, yet upon some reason of state I could marry him; yet Cleander being so accomplished as he is, does doubtless merit my esteem, but yet being no Prince, nor knowing so much as whether he be of a noble Race, I could not choose, according to the common Maxims of the world, but allow some place in my friendship, yet never should have any thoughts of marrying him. I know Madam, said Cylenisa, that all the world thinks as you say; but you Madam, who has a Soul above the vulgar reach, and who can see things as really they are in themselves, not as the multitude looks upon them, what do you think? may you not well imagine that Cleander's virtue and the King's command will prevent all blame, when you obey him without resistance? Ha Cylenisa, said she unto her, what questions do you ask me? and how do you think I shall answer you? My heart and my reason are at such odds, that I need some time to consider which of these two I should satisfy; therefore for the present I cannot tell you which I shall choose, or what I shall do: for truly Cylenisa I do not know myself. This was the Conference between them: for though Cylenisa did not make me her Confident concerning the interests of her Mistress, yet being my Cousin we were very friendly one to another, and she bore a particular affection un●o Cleander for my sake, because she knew that my Fortune and Timocreons did inseparably depend upon his, and therefore he rendered in common between us both his liberality, and his good offices. Cleander also though he knew it not, had a good Solicitor of her to the princess Palmis, and her advice was always in advantage of Cleander, in so much as her coldness towards him, which was his greatest torment, did insensibly less●n, so that flattering up himself, by this happy change, the cause whereof he was ignorant his hopes began to revive and comfort him; and presently after, growing more bold in the business, he rendered his Compliments unto the Princess with less circumspection, though ever with equal respect: he visited her very o●ten, and talked to her with less fear: yet I do not think that he would ever have been so bold as openly to declare himself unto her, if the illustrious Cyrus, who at that time was only Artamenes, had not given him an occasion, and thus it was. Croesus', knowing all the passages of the Ponteon and Bithinian War, and all the glorious Acts which the famous Artamenes did there, he had also a greater desire to inquire of what Nation a man of such extraordinary valour was. Those who had this Commission, told him, that it was not known; and further told him, how he caused the King of Pontus to be released; and how the Princess Mandana was carried away by a stranger called Philidaspes, who was unknown as well as Artamenes, and who also was very gallant; adding further, that it was said this Philidaspes was son unto the Queen of Assyria, and discovered by a Letter which he had written unto one of his Intelligence, which Letter was intercepted. Croesus' told all this unto the Princess Palmis, as news which was something pleasant, speaking unto her with much admiration of all the great things done by the illustrious Artamenes. As soon as he was gone from the Princess, Cleander came in; and since her mind was full with what the King had told her, she began discourse with him, and asked him many particulars, which she had not asked the King: Conceiving that he was present when all this news was told unto the King; For my part, said she, I wish this Philidaspes, though he be said to be the son of a King, were punished for the violence he hath done; and I would have Artamenes, though it be not known what he is, recompensed for his virtue. Methinks, Madam, said Cleander, I ought to thank you for him, being unknown as he is, and I conceive this conformity ought to interest me in what concerns him. His condition (said the Princess) is not equal with yours, for as I understand by the relation made unto the King, he known where he was born, and you neither know where you were born, nor what you are. Cleander sighed at this discourse of the Princess, who fearing she had incensed him, made haste to speak again. No, no, Cleander, said she, grieve not so much at your misfortune; for though you do not know your quality, yet all the world knows you deserve the highest: And I wish to the Gods, for the honour of our house, that you were my Brother; and I am sure the Prince Myrsiles will not be offended at my wish. It would be most glorious and obliging for me, Madam, replied he; but for all that, Heavens forbid it should be so, for I had rather be as I am, then be Brother unto the adorable Palmis. Do you know what you say? replied she; and do you not fear to offend me? Yes, Madam, I do fear, and fear it much more than you have reason to do: But truly, since I am resolved to be ingenious, I must needs confess unto you, that I had incomparably rather be all my life a Slave unto the divine Palmis, then to be her Brother, or to be the greatest King upon Earth; Yes Madam, I think those fetters which enchain me so sweet and glorious, though heavy, that I would not change them for all the glistering Diadems of the Universe. Cleander, said the Princess to him, it seems you know me no better than you do yourself, for if you knew who I am, you would not use such language. Pardon me, Madam, I beseech you, replied he, I know you are the daughter of a great King; that you are the fairest Princess in the world, and the most virtuous; but I know also that I am the most miserable man upon Earth, because I am the most amorous. If I did not think you were besides your senses, said she unto him, I should treat you after another manner. No Madam, said he, do not deceive yourself, the love which I have to you permits me the use of my reason, and my senses clearly, and I know most certainly that I ought to hope for nothing, nor do I ask any thing but a little compassion; for I dare not be so bold as to ask that which would be a remedy unto my misery, but that only I ask which would comfort, not cure me. The King my Father, said the Princess unto him, is so much your Debtor, and I also, that I am resolved not to argue against you, though in reason I ought to do it: but let me tell you in less anger than I could, that if what you say be not true, though your boldness deserves I should forbid myself ever speaking with you again, yet I will forget your crime, and pardon you; but if to your misfortune there be any truth in your words, I shall not treat you so favourably. How Madam, replied he, will you punish me more severely for telling you an insolent lie, then for telling you a most respective truth? I shall do more than that, answered she, for I shall punish myself for your crime, though I am not accessary to it. Alas Madam replied he, if I am culpable, you have made me so, but in the name of the God's Madam, do not condemn me upon so slight a ground; You have heretofore had so earnest a desire to know whether I was in love, and whom I loved, when the Prince Atis told you that I would not feign affection unto Anaxilea; that I did not think it so great a wrong to tell you the truth once in my life: Consider Madam, I cannot in justice be accused of what I now discover unto you; for can it be a Crime to be overcome by one who is able to overcome the whole Earth? You ought at the least to hide your defeat, replied the Princess. I hide it from all the world, replied he, knowing well that my misfortune is so great, that it is a shame unto my illustrious Conqueror: but for you Madam, I do confess I had a great desire to discover it unto you: But Madam, if I can obtain so much from your goodness, as to pardon me this first crime, I will promise you to regulate my life so for the future, as it shall please you, and to shut up the violence of my love in my own heart. Do so then, said she unto him, and be sure, that not one of your actions, words, or looks, may ever call into my memory the fault which you have committed this day: and I am resolved to forget and forgive it, if you will do as I would have you, and as I shall appoint you. I shall do the utmost of my endeavours to obey you, Madam, replied he; but in the name of Heavens do not treat me as one that is innocent, but as one that was criminal, and you have pardoned him.  
The Princess not being able to tolerate this conference any longer, took her leave of Cleander, being not less incensed against herself then against him, because she thought she had not spoken sharp enough unto him: Since he does not know, said she, that the King has a design in his advantage, what will he think of me? for harkening unto him with so few signs of anger? And have I not some reason to fear that my over indulgence has blotted out that esteem which he had of me? Yet, said she, and reprehended herself, I being his debtor for the King my father's life, and for my brothers, it were not just to be so severe unto him as his boldness deserved: but indeed, said she further, whosoever is Cleander's father, perhaps he may be of such a quality, as would make me blush for shame, if I knew him, that he should be so bold as to tell me he loved me, and I not banish him for ever: Ah my heart, cried she, thou hast betrayed me. For the truth is, I do love Cleander more than I thought, or aught to have done: But since it is so, I ought to learn by my own experience, that Cleander is not so much to blame; for since I cannot hate him when I would, he is excusable, if he cannot leave loving me, when I desire him. Let him love me then, said she, so he love me in secret; and tell me no more of it: but yet though she was not well reconciled with herself upon this point, yet she was so ingenious as to confess as much unto Cylenisa, unto whom she related all her thoughts, when they were together. The truth is Madam, the illustrious Cleander did carry it so judiciously, and with so much respect and discretion to the Princess all that Winter, as indeed she was constrained to let her heart yield unto that innocent passion, which would needs command it; yet she did not let it appear unto Cleander, but under the notion of solid and sincere friendship: always telling him, that it must be always carried so; because there was an invincible obstacle unto his happiness: for (said she to him one day, after he had obtained a revocation of that cruel Sentence, to speak no more of his love) if you did meet with no other hindrances of your good fortune, but because I do not esteem you, or but because I esteem another more than you, or but because I am insensible, time might very well alter all these: for I do ingeniously confess, that I find in your person, and in your mind, all that is requisite to obtain my esteem: you have rendered me an hundred thousand services in the person of the King, and in my own; I am persuaded that you love me: my own inclination is not to hate you; and every thing except one only, contributes to fasten our friendship: But Cleander after all these, all Asia knows, that you know not who you are, and it were a miracle if you ever did; therefore we must engage no further, but keep within the limits of friendship; not that I esteem you less, or thinks that your original deserves not to be high, but I do acknowledge unto you my weakness: Since all the world is not of my mind, I can banish out of my spirit some fears of being blamed, if it should come to be known, that I reserve a private room in my heart, for one that is not known who he is? Therefore Cleander in regard unto my honour content yourself with my friendship and esteem: Love me in the secret of your heart as much as you will (said she and blushy) but never expect any more from Palmis then offices of friendship. I find so much reason in your expressions Madam, replied he, and so little satisfaction to myself, that I know not how to answer: for as concerning my original, Madam, I have no Index to find it out, but only a most strong persuasion that it is not base, because I am so bold as to love you, and to love you without any manner of scruple. Yes, divine Princess, I find in my soul such a kind of noble pride, as persuades me, that I may adore you, and do you no wrong, yet since this proof is only convincing unto myself, I ask no more, than what you are pleased to consent unto; and as long as you do not forbid me loving you, I shall never complain: for Madam, the esteem which I have of your merit is so great, that though I were the Son of a great King, I should not think myself worthy to ask your affection but upon my knee. Things standing upon these terms, although the Princess did carry herself towards Cleander with extreme reservedness; yet talking with him oftener than usual in private, and love being of such a nature as cannot be long hid, especially where there is inequality between th● parties, Artesilas began to perceive, that there was some alteration between them, and within a few days after, he did not question, but Cleander at the least▪ was in love with the Princess Palmis, since 〈…〉 himself was but coarsely treated: Jealousy did rouse up his heart in a very violent manner, he kept the business close, because he would first clear his suspicions: But after an observing eye upon Cleander's actions, and assuring himself that he was his Rival, conceiving also that he was the only cause of the Princess her scorn upon him: he began to have a most strong a version to Cleander, and intended to put affronts upon him, and to quarrel with him upon the first occasion; That which was a quicker spur unto his design, was, because he knew Cleander would ere long go to command the Army, and finish the Phrygian war: but how hot seever he was to quarrel, yet for some days he could not bring it about, because Cleander was feldom with any but the King, or the Princess, unless sometimes with the Princess of Clasomena. As he was one day coming from her, Artesilas met him, & speaking very coldly unto him, I have sought you several days, said he, but I could never meet you, unless with the King, or Princess, in whose presence you are continually. Had I known your intentions replied Cleander with the same coldness, though very civilly) I should have come to you to know your pleasure. Perhaps if you had known it, answered Artesilas, you would have been so far from coming to me, that you would not have come to the Princess of Clasomena. Since I do not use to shun either my friends or my enemies, answered Cleander, I know no reason you should speak in that manner unto me. I know less reason you have, replied Artesilas, to carry yourself as you have done of 〈◊〉. Since I have ever followed the rules of reason, answered Cleander, I do not know how I have misbehaved myself. When you came first unto Sardis, replied Artesilas, it was not easy to foresee that your frequent visits of the Princess would afterwards prejudice me, or that a man of your quality should be so bold as to oppose such a one as myself. My quality (replied Cleander, much incensed) is indeed unknown to me; but I had rather be received by the Princess for my own virtue, then for my quality only, though it were higher than yours. You may do well to think of your own, replied Artesilas, and let mine alone: if you do not, I shall find out ways to remember you; therefore let me find you no more with the Princess, if I do— How Sir, said Cleander, and interrupted him, force me not to lay aside those respects which perhaps I should have paid unto your quality, and remember that men of carriage cannot brook to be threatened by any but the Gods only. But you shall suffer the threatenings of a man, replied Artesilas, and perhaps find such effects of it, as shall not please you, unless you correct yourself. Provided that our Swords be equal, replied Cleander fiercely, the inequality of our conditions shall not hinder me from preventing you; But Sir, do not profane the name of the Princess in such an occasion, as she ought not to be introduced: if you have any secret hatred to me, revenge yourself generously: and do me the honour to tell me with your Sword in your hand, whether it be nature or fortune which puts a difference between us. You shall know that presently (replied Artesilas, and drawing his sword, as well as one servant which was with him) so that Cleander having but his servant with him also, the fight was upon equal numbers, though with unequal success: for Cleander being animated by his love, by his jealousy, and by the angry language of Artesilas, did fight with such fury, that this Prince, as gallant as he was, had a hard task to resist him: since Cleander feared, left some should come in to part them, he dallied not; but driving blow after blow upon his enemy, without any defending himself, he pressed so hard upon him, that he lost his judgement, and could neither defend himself, nor assault his foe: Not that Artesilas wanted any courage, but because the miraculous valour of Cleander surprised him, and put him into disorder: he was wounded at the first in two places, without any touch upon Cleander; who after he had given him two other wounds, he closed with him, threw him upon the ground, and took away his sword; Then after he had disarmed him, Do you acknowledge, said he, that you have some cause 〈◊〉 think my birth is not inferior unto yours? or do you not at the least confess, that if there 〈◊〉 any difference between us, it is fortune only which made it? Artesilas was so wounded, an● ashamed at his defeat, that he had not power to answer. At the same time some women which belonged to the Princess of Clasomena, spied them out of a window, at the beginning of 〈◊〉 Combat, and sent some men to part them. But they came not in till all was done; Cleand●●● servant wounded the servant of Artefilas, whose sword was broken. Abradates' came in also, who caused the Prince Artefilas to be carried unto his house, and who went with Cleander unto his lodging: not letting him go unto his own until he knew the cause of the Combat, and how the King would receive the news: Since Croesus loved Cleander very well, and never loved Artesilas at all, it was no hard matter to persuade him, that Artesilas was the Challenger, so that he seemed to be much incensed against him for affronting one who was so 〈◊〉 and high in his esteem: The friends of Artesilas did sweeten the matter, and told the King th●● the answers of Cleander did exasperate him, and since neither of these two Rivals did na●● the Princess; some scornful words which Artesilas spoke concerning the birth of Cleander, passed for the ground of the quarrel.  
In the mean while all the Court came to visit him, excepting the kindred of his Enemy, and some of them also forsook him, and offered themselves unto Cleander, whom the Princess sent privately to visit and rejoice that he was not wounded, not knowing yet what was the cause of the Combat, every one thinking that it was because Artesilas did treat him as an unknown man from whence he had his original: Nothing else was talked of; Those who had heard a hundred times how he was found, still enquired and related it: The Princess herself desired my Father to make an exact relation of it; How he saw him floating in a Boat with one woman could not wield it; how he sent Sailors to succour him; how he saw the Child in a Mantle made of Cloth of God; how she who was with him was dumb; how she held in her hands a Picture, where this Child was represented, as Cupid is used to be drawn, and with him a fair Lady, which seemed to be his Mother by those Verses which were written underneath; and how this dumb woman died: The Princess, who never durst ask to see this Picture, did prevail with the opposites to her curiosity, and desired Timocreon to send it unto her, which he did, and it was I who carried it, unknown to Cleander, for he stayed with Abradates, until such time as it was known whether Artesilas would recover of his wounds, one of them being very dangerous. The Princess blushed when she took the Picture, not being able doubtless to receive the Picture of him she loved without confusion, though it was only the picture of a Child, yet a Child pictured like a God: As she was always used to admire all beautiful things, so she admired at this Picture, which indeed was very admirable, and observed how Cleander still retained a great resemblance of what he was then; but she was charmed with the beauty of the Mother, whom she commended with less scruple than she could the son, though she could not commend the one without the other, because there was a most perfect resemblance: she thought the invention of the Picture and the Verses very pleasant; and I observed, that she looked upon the magnificent Border of that Picture with much delight, because it was an infallible testimony that the birth of Cleander was not mean; and always extremely commending the Limner who drew this Picture, she asked me whether Timocreon would trust her with it for a few days, that she might show it unto some of her friends? You may imagine, Madam, that I denied her not, and that it was not long before I acquainted Cleander, that the Princess desired to keep his Picture; But he answered me, that he should think himself much more happy if she would give him hers, since the one was only a bare effect of her curiosity▪ and the other would be an argument of her affection. Whilst things stood upon these terms, News was brought that the King of Phrigia was drawing into the field: So that Croesus commanded Cleander to prepare himself for a March; which he did the very same hour, sending his Train before him; The King by virtue of his supreme Authority did reconcile Artesilas and him the next morning. At the same time, a Phrygian man of good quality who was an Exile came unto Sardis to treat concerning the Ransom of a Prisoner of War, and since his name was known, and that he was a man of spirit, Croesus received him very well, and assured him that if ever there was a Peace made between him, and the King of Phrigia, he would make his in particular with that Prince.  
Thimettes (for that was the Phrygians name) had not been long at Sardis, but he went to present his service unto the Princess; and coming to her one day when she was in her Close,, whilst they went to acquaint her he desired to see her, he saw upon the Table in her Chamber this picture of Venus and Cupid which I told you of before: yet he no sooner saw it, but taking it up he seemed to be extremely surprised; he read the Verses; he observed the Border, and looked upon it most precisely; and having no power to leave it, he asked Cylenisa who gave this Picture to the Princess? She, knowing it was not a thing to be made a secret on, told him the whole truth in few words, whereat he seemed much moved: But Cylanisa imagining that his surprise was only at the novelty of the adventure, she made no reflection upon it: Thimettes contenting himself also with telling her that this Picture deserved to be carefully kept: When he was told ●he Princess was at leisure, he went to see the Princess, but his visit was not long: As soon as he came out from her, he went unto Cleander, who was returned to his own Lodging since Artesilas grew better, and since they were reconciled: yet he could not go so soon as he intended, because he met with a man in the way, who acquainted him with great news, as afterwards we came to know: but after his business was done with this man, he went to Cleander, who imagined that Thimettes came to visit him only as the Kings Favori●●; and when he desired 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 with him in private, he supposed it was to speak with him concerning his interests with the King of Phrigia, knowing that he was the next day to go unto the Army: As soon as they were together in private, Sir, said Thimettes unto him, I have such strange news to tell you, that I know not whether I shall be believed at the first, though I do assure you that the illustrious Cleander, as unknown as he is unto all the world and to himself, is yet the son of a great King. Thimettes (said Cleander, much amazed, and not daring to believe him) If I should credit my own heart. I ought to give credit unto your words; but if I look upon all appearances, I must needs doubt of what you say. It is most certain though, replied Thimettes, that you are Son to the King of Phrigia, and as certain as I am his Subject. How, said Cleander, am I Son to the King of Phrigia whom I fought with, and whom I am going to fight with again? Yes Sir, answered he, you are so; and so certainly, that you shall not doubt of it, if you will but take the pains to hear me. Speak then Thimettes (said Cleander hastily) for you tell me such welcome and such strange news all at once, that I cannot too soon know the truth, and that I may know whether joy or sorrow be my Fate. Sir, replied Thimettes, I cannot utter such great things as I have to tell in few words, and the Crown which I bring you may well allow me a quarter of an hours patience: Be pleased to know then Sir, that the King your father who reigns at this day, who whilst the late King lived was called the Prince Artamus, being desperately in love with a Lady whose name was Elsimena, who was of a Noble blood, but not a Princess; and he used all his endeavours to make his affection acceptable: But since this Lady was as virtuous as fair, and yet as fair and fairer than any in either High or Low Phrigia, she refused the passionate addresses of this Prince with much constancy, ever telling him, ●hat as his love was vicious, so he should find her rigorous. I shall not relate unto you Sir all the particulars of this love; only tell you, that the Prince Tydeus, brother unto the King your father, and unto the Prince Adrastus who died in this Court, though then at that time a child, was his Rival, and were obnoxious one unto another, and this Lady bebehaved herself with so much prudence between them both, that her wisdom was admired by all he world: I had then the honour to be in favour wi●h the Prince Artamus, and to be the Confident of his passion. I happened one day to be with Elsimena, who was then at Apamea, when these two Rivals were both there, and when without any dissimulation of her thoughts she told them, that he whom she would prefer should doubtless be him who gave her the best testimonies of a virtuous passion; which they might have time enough to do, since both of them told her, that they could not marry her during the life of the King their father: However, since she loved the Prince Artamus, better than she did the Prince Tydeus, she made a vow to send offerings unto Delphos, if it would please the Gods whom they adore to inspire him with a design to marry her: so that whether it was the virtue of this vow, or that the prince Artamus grew more in love, he resolved to marry her secretly: and I was a Witness of the Marriage, with four others of quality who lived there: It was solemnised in the same Temple where the Gordeon Kno● is kept, this amorous Prince resolving that this union should be more indissolvable than it. The business was very secretly done, and the Sacrafizer was absolutely gained, that no rumours of it should be divulged: and Elsimena treated the Prince her husband before the world, as if he were not so much as her Lover. But to free her se●f from the persecution of the prince Tydeus, and to enjoy in more freedom the conversation of the prince Artamus, who was much more amorous after marriage than before, she went to dwell with her mother at a Castle on the Sea side, whether the Prince came often unto her, unknown unto any, feigning divers small Journeys, or Hunt, to colour his absence; and I often went with him. Never was passion more violent than his, nor better grounded, for certainly Elsimena was a miracle of beauty, wit, and virtue. But Sir, ere long this Princess was with child, and presently after gave you life: The prince Artamas was over joyed to have a Son: Some reports went about the world of his marriage: The prince Tydeus had two or three fall out with his brother about it: The King had heard of it; and absolutely forbid Artamus from seeing Elsimena, so that he could not visit her without much difficulty; for he had so many watching eyes upon him▪ that he was not Master of his own actions. However Sir, you live, and have such a perfect resemblance of the Princess your Mother, that I never in my life saw two faces more like, that were of a different Sex and age. Since the prince Artamas could see Elsimena but very seldom, he appointed me to procure her picture, so that carrying an excellent Painter unto the place where she was, she would send him the picture of her Son as well as of herself; The device of the Drawer was to paint a Venus and a Cupid, the one to resemble her, the other you: The conceit did so please the Princess, that she caused two to be made, intending to send 〈◊〉 unto the Prince▪ and to keep another herself: but since the Prince was still a Lover as well as a Husband, he caused those Verses which you have seen to be written at the bottom of both pictures: The Verses were writ in Greek, because the Princess then learned that language, which was much in use among the Ladies of quality in Apamea, who had any reputation of wit. Mean while the King of Phrigia died, and the prince Artamas, being elder than either the prince Tydens, or the prince Adrastus, succeeded in the Throne, and was in a condition to crown Elsimena his Queen: As soon as the Funerals of the King his father were solemnised, he published his Marriage, and magnificent preparations were made to receive the Princess at Apamea; to acknowledge her Queen before all the people, and by consequence to declare you his legitimate Heir and only Successor. This great Feast was so near, that the stately Coach which was prepared for the Princess at her entry was gone unto her; and I sent every thing requisite, and neglected not so much as a Mantle made of Cloth of God, in which you were to be wrapped that day of his Ceremonies; but alas Sir, the day was pitifully disturbed: for two days before her departure, since all things were in readiness for her stately entry, and the King your father joyed beyond all expressions, being gone towards the Princess, to testify his satisfaction unto her, I met upon the way men who came to advertise, the King, that some had surprised the Castle the might before; had carried away the Queen your mother and you, and also all which was of value in that place, where there was things of great consideration, for all the Jewels of the Crown were there, Artamas having sent them unto his dear Elsimena, since he was King: I leave you to judge Sir, how I was amazed: Since I was not far from the Castle, I went unto it; and I understood by the Mother of Elsimena, who died for grief within a few days after, that men in Arms who were unknown had surprised it, and had carried the Princess and you, with all the rich Booty, into a Ship, but none knew which way these Ravishers went, because it was night, having plundered the Castle so clean, that they left almost nothing in it: However, this sad news must be carried unto the King, who received it so sadly, that I thought he would have lost both his Life and Reason: he caused a most strict search to be made every where, to see if it could be discovered who were the Actors, but all in vain: He sent several Ships at random to seek about. He much suspected the Prince Tydeus, both as his Rival and as an ambitious man, who had in one day taken from him his Successor, and the person whom he loved as well as he did: but having no proofs against this Prince, who never had stirred from Court, nor so much as any pregnant conjectures, he could not accuse him: Tydeus seemed to be much troubled at the lo●s, and the King your father was forced to endure a misery, without having so much consolation as to know whom he should be revenged upon, nor of whom to complain. After this he still made a diligent enquiry, and continually grieved for his dear Elsimena, never giving ear unto any that motioned him to a second Wife, and having no other comfort but in the picture of his dearest Elsimena. However, he could never have any confidence in the prince Tydeus●nce ●nce that time; who often left the Court; made many journeys, and at the last went to dwell in the Lower Phrigia. I shall not tell you Sir, how the prince Adrastus going to visit him had the misfortune, as he was shooting in his Park, to kill him with an arrow, without any design of it, for I know you are not ignorant of it; and thus the Justice of Heaven, which sees that crime no man could see, did punish him in such an extraordinary way. But give me leave to tell you, that some of my enemies, with much injustice falling upon me in the King's presence, and procuring his displeasure, I was forced to absent myself for some time, and I had not come into this Court, but only to endeavour the liberty of a Nephew whom you took prisoner in the last Battle, and not with intentions to bear arms against the King my Master. Mean while Sir, I no sooner saw you with the King of Lydia, but I found some features in your face which did so freshly revive the image of your Mother in my mind, that me thought I knew you: yet the longness of the time since, and the little appearance of any truth in my thoughts, caused me not make no further reflection upon it: for I had heard you were one whom Fortune had raised, but I never did particularly know you, nor who you were. But Sir, as I was with the Princess, I chanced to see that Picture which I caused to be made, and which that dumb woman gave unto Timocreaon; this did so extremely amaze me, that I knew not well what the Princess thought of my odd conversation, my mind being at such distraction at it: At my coming out from her, as if this day were a day of Prodigies, I met an old man who knew me, and who at the first I knew not; he desired to speak with me in private concerning some matters of consequence: after a serious look upon him, I remembered that I had seen him about the prince Tydeus, so that wondering to see him at Sardis, I gave him hearing. Then Sir, he told me, that since he had already one foot in his grave, and ready to render an account unto the Gods of all his crimes, he would endeavour to merit a pardon by an ingenious confession, which he would make unto me. After this he discovered, that the late prince Tydeus his Master, was the man who caused the Princess El●mena and you to be carried away, out of some humours of jealousy, rage, ambition, and revenge, finding some sweetness in depriving his Rival of the only person he loved, and much more in taking away from him a Successor, by that means to assure himself of a Crown, or at least render himself more considerable in the Kingdom, since he should be looked upon as one who hereafter should be King: for he believed the King his Brother could never forget Elsimena, nor would ever marry again. This man told me then that he was the chief in the Enterprise: That the Prince Tydeus appointed him to go and dwell in one of the Isles of Cycladeses which was least peopled, and to keep Elsimena from speaking unto any whosoever, intending to put neither her, nor you to death, because he thought that if his crime should be discovered, he had a most certain way to save his life, being Master of yours, and of the Queen your Mothers.  
This man whose name is Acrates, told me then, that obeying his Master, he carried away the Princess Elsimena, and you, and that he took with him all the riches in the Castle, But lest he should be discovered, he took but one woman of the Queens to wait upon her, and placed none about her but a dumb Slave which he had, who was not able to reveal his secrets. He confessed that when he was come unto one of these Cycladean Islands with this deplorable Princess, he sold the Ship in which he brought her: and he remained possessor of all the riches which she had, with three of his Complices. He did protest unto me, that he did not treat her rigorously, but that sorrow did so change her countenance that she was hardly knowable; he further told me, that the Prince Tydeus, seeing he was not accused of his crime, and that in all likelihood, the King his Brother should never know it, he changed his mind, and resolved to put the Princess Elsimena, and you to death, fearing lest in tract of time, that which once he thought would save him, should now ruin him: so that he sent orders unto Acrates to put you both to death: giving all the treasures to him in recompense, and to his three Complices. As for the Soldiers and Mariners which helped to carry her and you away, they were all strangers, and knew not about what they were employed. The Soldiers being of kind of Mostroopers, and the Mariners Pirates; men easily invited to any bad employments without so much as ask what it is. So these wicked Villains, after they had seized upon all which resisted them in the Castle, and brought you to this Isle, they dispersed themselves, having received their wages before they committed the crime, and left none with Elsimena, but a dumb Slave, and these four men. Acrates then having received these orders, did assure me that he resisted his companions as much as he could, yet being but one against three, he could not prevail with them, and could do no more but acquaint Elsimena secretly, that they had received commands to put her, and her Son to death; and that these men maugre his resistance, would ere long execute it: he added further, that this unfortunate Queen being sick, did not take any care for herself, but all her thoughts was to preserve your life: That she took you in her Arms, and after she had kissed you with eyes swimming in tears, she put you into the hands of the dumb Slave, making signs unto her, that she should go and carry you to Delphos, for Elsimena being lodged by the Seaside, they could see that Isle out of their window: Moreover that she took the picture, which they had left her, and writing some lines upon it in haste, she gave it unto this Slave: he said, that this mute woman, finding a Mantle of Cloth of gold (in which you should have been carried that day on which your Mother should have been crowned) and wrapped you in it: that going hastily out in the beginning of the night, Acrates following her at a distance, she came unto an old fisherman, conjuring him with all her signs to carry her unto Delphos, giving him for this wages a jewel which she had. In the mean time, the unfortunate Elsimena did so grieve at her misfortune, that her Jailers did not need either sword or poison to make her die; and she fell into such a mortal passion, that she never revived: The Funeral of this deplorable Princess was the next day performed without any Ceremony, Acrates further said, that the absence of this child did much perplex them: and upon enquiry they could hear no more, but that the mute woman had taken boat, wherein was only an old fisherman to guide it: who being put off a good way from the shore (where the wife of this fisherman stood) he reached to the Rudder so far that he fell into the Sea, and was drowned, because he was too old, and too weak to swim: so that the boat was left to the wind and the waves. Acrates related further, that when his companions returned to the house, and could not find neither the child, nor the slave, they suspected him as accessary to her flight; but he said, he dissembled it so well that they altered their minds; also flattering themselves in their crimes, they believed this Infant would perish in the boat which had no Pilot to guide it: so that after they had divided the treasures, and sent unto the Prince Tydeus, that the mother and the child were dead, they parted one from another, and every one took his several course. As for Acrates, he came to Sardis, where he has lived a most discontented and melancholy life, notwithstanding his riches: he added further, that since the Combat between Artesilas, and you, hearing of the obscurity of your birth, and likewise understanding in what manner Timocreon found you, he made no doubt but that you were son to the King of Phrigia; but he said, he could not resolve to confess his crime unto you; yet seeing me, he could not hold, but must needs discover it, to the end he might find the King of Phrigia a Successor, since there was no more of his Family left. So Sir, said Thimettes, I have no more to say, but to desire you that I may have the favour to see the paper which this Princess writ, for I understand that Timocreon hath it. Cleander was so amazed at this Relation, that he could hardly answer him: yet at last sending for my father, and that he should bring the paper which the mute Slave gave him, he instantly came, and gave it unto Cleander, who gave it unto Thimet●es. But he no sooner saw it, then crying out, and holding up his hands; Ah Sir, said he, I need not open it, to know whether it be the hand of the Princess Elsimena; for I know this Seal which I see upon it. In saying so he opened it, and reading these words, This Infant is recommended unto the God which is adored at Delphos: he read it over again; Doubt it not Sir, said he, make no question but you are Son to the King of Phrygia: These Characters are so exactly the hand of the Princess Elsimena, that nothing in the world can be more certain, since I know her hand, and her Orthography: for I think I have carried an hundred Letters from this Princess to your father, who was often times pleased to show them unto me, delighting to see me admire at the wit of Elsimena, who writ admirable well in any strange language. Moreover Sir, I may perhaps show you one thing which is very strange; be pleased to know Sir, that a while before he married her, since he was pleased to give her some assurances of his affection in writing, he writ upon a kind of paper, the invention whereof was mine, which is not common: for Sir, after that one hath written what one pleaseth, one may cover the Characters with a certain Composition put upon the paper, which will make it seem as if nothing were writ upon it, yet when one pleaseth, one may easily take that off which covers them, and cover it again at ones pleasure: so that if my memory fail me not, it was this paper which I carried unto the unfortunate Elsimena, which contained the first assurance which the Prince Artam●● gave her, that he would marry her: since it was her custom to cover again all the Letters which the Prince did write unto her, after she had read them, that she might thereby keep them more safely: It is requisite that I show it unto you, then going to the fire, he took away, that which hid the Chaacters of the King of Phrygia's Letter unto this amiable Lady, and he read aloud these words:  
The Prince ARTAMAS, unto the incomparable ELSIMENA.  
AT the last, Love hath overcome all cruel Reasons of State, which did oppose my happiness: And though I were assured, that by marrying you, I should lose that Crown which I am to wear, yet would I resolve upon it, and bid the other adieu; for I make no comparison 〈…〉 you, and all the Crowns in the world: yet I hope the Gods will preserve it for me, 〈…〉 may make you a Queen: In the mean time Thimettes hath Orders to ask that Lady 〈…〉 gave you life, and is to dispose of you, when it is her pleasure I shall be happy: The Sacrificer of Apollo's Temple has promised me to be secret and faithful: and I do assure you, my dear Elsimena, that the never to be untied knot which is kept there, will sooner be loosed, then that which ties my heart unto your service.  
ARTAMAS.  
After that Thimettes had read this Letter, See Sir, said he to Cleander, whether you can wish any more to inform your knowledge: look upon the writing of the King your father, and of the Queen your mother, which will remove all seruples of doubt. Moreover (said he in looking upon the paper a little nearer) I perceive some dim line of the Queens own hand, which is discovered in coming near the fire, which doubtless was covered by the same subtle composition, without any intention, which by some chance was poured upon it, and warmed by the heat of the Sun, when the Slave had it in the Boat: And indeed, looking upon that place, where it was written; This Infant is recommended unto the God which is adored at Delphos: there was to be seen following; Who without doubt will restore him to the King of Phrygia his Father. Cleander was so astonished, Timocreon was so glad, and Thimettes esteemed himself so happy, at the discovery of such an important business, that all three knew not how to express themselves. My father caused the Cloth of Gold Mantle to be brought in which the child was found in the boat, and which he carefully preserved; but Thimettes before he saw it, described it so precisely, and all things found so exactly as he said them, that there was no scruple, nor objection to be made; and as oft as Thimettes minded the resemblance between Cleander and Elsim●na, he wondered that he did not at the first know him to be son unto the King of Phrigia. But Sir, said he unto him, after I have told you your Quality, it is requisite I let you know your first Name; and that I tell you it was your father's pleasure, to give you the same with himself: so that you must change the famous name of Cleander, for that of Artamas, which is your own.  
After this, Cleander would needs see Acrates, and hear from his own mouth the relation of his Crime; assuring Thimettes, and him also, that he would pardon him: However, since there was War between the King of Phrigia and Croesus, it was not thought expedient to divulge the business: And Cleander, who had secret designs, which Timocreon was ignorant of, after he had embraced him, and told him, that he was no less a Debtor unto him for his life than he was unto the King his Father; after, I say, a thousand thankful expressions unto Thimettes and him, he desired them to leave him at liberty unto his private thoughts, not intending yet to treat Thimettes as a Subject unto the King his Father, nor look upon Timocreon but with his accustomed respects. Since I knew not what had passed, I came into the Chamber, when these persons went out, and since he had trusted me with all his secrets, & discovered unto me all his ill fortunes, it was his pleasure I should participate both of his good and bad fortune: So that staying me with him, and after he had in short related all unto me, as I began to rejoice that he was the son of a great King; Ha Sosicles, said he unto me, how heavy do I th●●● this Crown, though yet it be not upon my head? for truly I see many cross and many agreeable Consequences of it. I conceive, replied I, that since the Princess Palmia can desire no more in you then an illustrious birth, you have reason to be satisfied, and hope to be happy. You do not consider Sosicles, said he unto me, that as soon as I tell I am the son of a King, so soon do I tell her that I am the son of her father's Enemy: Moreover, do you not conceive that Crossus thinks I ought to depart within these two days at most to go and fight the King of Phrigia? and Sosicles, how do you think I can go and tell him, that I neither can nor aught to go? May I not expect after this, that he will look upon me as Nephew to the Murderer of the Prince his son? and indeed Sosicles, is there not more cause to fear that this seeming good fortune will cause me real misery, than there is to hope for any end of my miseries? If I go unto the King my father whom I have fought against, whom I have overcome, and whom I thought to kill with my own hands, is there not some reason to think, that he will expect the same valour which has been so fatal unto him, should restore him that which it hath gotten from him? and yet can I so much as think of fight against my Benefactor, and which is more than that, the Father of the Princess Palmis? Also, knowing as I do, that I am the King of Phrigia's son, shall I stay any longer in the Country of Croesus? May not the King my father disclaim me, and not acknowledge me his son, if I should continue fight, not only for my Enemies, but also against him? Yet Sosicles, I am put to this cross necessity: Oh, I wish to the Gods that my Princess, who does not hate me as unknown, would not hate me when I am known unto her: But Sosicles, if my Princess cannot find a way to reconcile all these contraries, but shall think that to be her Lover, and the son of her enemy, are two qualities incomparable, I am resolved to renounce the Throne, and without ever assuming the name of Artamas, contin●● Cleander eternally. But Sir, said I unto him, as long as you are Cleander, you must fight against the King your father. Ah Sosicles, said he, the Combats already with him, have caused such horror in me, that though I would fight again against him, yet I think my hand would not obey me: Did I not tell you, that I was not so happy as you thought me? Oh most cruel Fortune, canst thou not present me with my benefits, but thou must poison them? Do but admi 〈…〉 my fortune, Sosicles: The King of Phrigia and the King of Lydia never had any Wars between them until within this year: so that it my birth had been discovered at any time than this, I had been absolutely happy. Moreover, do you not consider, my Destinies would needs have me to be the son of that King only, against whom Croesus had declared War? Therefore must it not needs be confessed, that my fortune is very odd and ill, and that it is not easy to 〈◊〉 it any better? But whatsoever fall, I shall for ever love my Princess, and shall think, that good fortune consists only in the enjoyment of her heart.  
As Cleander was thus thinking, a Messenger came to tell him that Croesus asked for Man, and had received news, that the King of Phrigia was entered into his Dominions. I leave you to judge Madam, how this went against his mind, yet must he go unto this Prince, and did so; but he was so puzzled to answer him, that Croesus perceived something did trouble 〈◊〉 mind, and asked what it was, but Cleander did not tell him; for since yet he had not seen his Princess, he knew not whether it would be her pleasure he should: he answered h●m then in obscure words; yet since the Phrygian War did wholly take up the mind of Croesus, he took no notice of them; he told him, that he must needs depart within this day or two to vanquish his Enemy, who seemed to have a design to conquer his Conqueror: But Cleander, said he unto him, I would have you remember, it is the last Victory which gives the Prize to all the rest; and for your part, I know you have so much glory and honour to preserve, that you are no less interested than myself in the good or bad success of this War. After this he took his leave of him, and told him, that he would go and bid adieu unto all his friends. Cleander being glad to be rid of a conversation, which was so troublesome, went unto the Princess, who believing that he came to bid her adieu, no sooner saw him enter into her Closet, where she was alone with Cylenisa, but addressing herself unto him, Though I do not doubt, said she, but you go to overcome your Enemies, since you go to fight them; yet since you cannot do that without hazard of your life, and without leaving me, I cannot see you depart without much sorrow. Madam, answered he and sighed, Victory is such a thing as I ought not to think upon, and when you shall know what I have heard, since I had the honour to see you, I am sure you will be of my opinion. How Cleander, said she unto him, have you offered any Sacrifices unto the Gods which have not been accepted? or has the Gods forewarned you by any sinister presages of some sad accident? The God's Madam, replied he, have let me know the best and most agreeable news in the world in appearance, since they have let me understand by a marvellous accident of what quality I am: But in the name of the God's Madam, I do beseech you, do not hate me when you shall know it. The Princess was much amazed at this discourse, and knew not how to answer him: yet imagining that his only reason was because he had found himself of some mean quality, she answered him in these terms, though in much impatience: Since your virtues are the same still, of what quality soever you are, I do assure you I shall always esteem you the same; and though the knowledge of what you are may make me change my manner of living with you, yet it shall never change my heart. Since it is so Madam, said he unto her, I shall not fear to tell you, that I am son to the King of— How Cleander, said she, and interrupted him, what pleasure can you have in making me sad? Why would you have me buy such welcome news with so much sorrow? You shall see Madam, replied he, that the business is not so well as you imagine, when you shall understand that the Prince who gave me life, is the same King of Phrigia whom you commanded me to vanquish, and that it is not lawful for me to fight against him. And then he told her in as short a method as he could, how Thimettes had seen the Picture of Venus upon her Table; how Cylenisa had told him in what manner it was found; and made relation of all he knew from Thimettes and Acrates, and neglected not any circumstance which might justify his quality unto the Princess, who did hearken unto him with much attention and joy, though mingled with some unquiet thoughts. After he had ended his relation, As terrible an Enemy as you are, said she unto him, I esteem you so much, as that I would not have you unknown Cleander again, but much rather you were the Prince Artamas: Not but that I do foresee the angry Consequences which this glorious Quality may bring upon you; but yet the King of Phrigia and the King my father may happily conclude a Peace, and then you could not possibly be the son of a King unless you had been born so: But, said she, what do you design? for I conceive that the thoughts of the Prince Artamas will not concur with the thoughts of the unknown Cleander. The thoughts of Cleander, said he unto her, are not changed, since he knew he was the Prince Artamas: But I do not know whether the Princess of Lidia's mind be changed or no. Doubtless it is, replied she, for I shall be more civil towards the Prince Artamas, than I was to Cleander. That is not the question I ask (said he unto her) I only desire that you would be pleased to continue the same goodness unto me, as you did before, and that you advise me what to do, for truly I stand in great need of it. They ought to be more prudent, and less interested than I am, answered she, who can give you any good counsel. Then absolutely command me what is your pleasure I should do, said he unto her, for I make no question but that you will have a care of my honour in your Commands; and therefore my divine Princess, I will prescribe no limits unto you, but absolutely refer myself unto your Commands: Speak then Madam, I conjure you, and tell me, what is your pleasure shall become of me? How can I disobey Croesus, who would have me go and fight, and vanquish the King of Phrigia? how can I do all this, since I have the honour to be Son unto that Prince? The Gods preserve me, said she, from giving you any such counsel. I expected no less from your virtue, said he unto her, and give you thanks for not putting me unto so dangerous a Test, nor force me to disobey you, nor becoming the most criminal amongst men: And since Madam, you are pleased to consent that I should not fight against the King my father, I am ●ully resolved never to fight against yours. I do conjure you to do so, said she unto him, by the affection which you have promised me. There needs not so strong a conjuration, answered he, for certainly I should never have done it, though I had never promised you: But Madam, I see very well what I ought not to do, but I do not yet see what I ought to do, and yet I must do something, and resolve upon it presently, for the King will needs have me depart within this day or two; all my men are already upon their March: the Troops which I must command are perhaps already in the King of Phrigia's hands; and the least delay may prove fatal unto me. Tell me then Madam, would you have me discover myself unto the King your father? or would you have me go and make myself known unto the King of Phrigia? and that I endeavour to move him unto a Peace, whilst you transact the same with Croesus? Pronounce my doom, I beseech you, but whatsoever it be, do not banish me from your heart, nor exile me a long time from you. Then said she, and sighed, I must know how to do miracles, since under them there is no possibility of contenting you: for since the condition you are in permits me with more fitness to open my heart unto you, I shall tell you one thing which will make you wonder, and which will grieve you both, which is, that if you had still continued in uncertainty of your birth, at your return from this Battle, it was the King my father's pleasure, that he who should marry me, should help the Prince Myrsiles to govern after his death, and support the Sceptre after his death, and was resolved, if I can tell it you without a blush, to make choice of you, and engage you unto it by his alliance. Oh Madam, said Cleander, since it is so, let me not be a son unto the King, since I do not wish to be so, but only to obtain that honour. No, said the Princess, and though ways could be devised to prevent your fight against the King your father, none could be devised to hide your illustrious Birth, Thimocreon, Thimettes, Sosicles, and Acrates would never keep that secret which would deprive you of a Crown, neither do I myself desire it: But that which moves me to tell you this, is to let you see it would be in vain to discover yourself unto the King my father; for I understand this morning from the same person who gave me the first intelligence of it, that several stranger Princes have made offers of Marriage unto him, and his answers to them all was, that he was resolved, as I told you before, to marry me unto one, who should hereafter assist my brother to govern. How Madam, cried out Cleander, is the quality of a King's son, which I so much wished, because I thought it absolutely necessary to obtain that happiness which without it I could never hope for, is it then an invincible obstacle unto my felicity? Ah Madam, if it be, than I reject a Crown, and had much rather be Cleander then Prince Artamas. I do not directly tell you, replied she, that this obstacle is invincible; but I say it is a great one: Moreover, since it is permitted me to discover my weakness unto you, I must confess, I could hardly resolve to marry a man whom all Asia thought to be of a mean original: Therefore let us transact as we ought, and leave the rest unto the providence of the Gods. This absolute resignation, replied Cleander and sighed, denotes thus much unto me Madam, that all my affection, all my cares, and all my services, have obtained nothing from you but this, that you permit me to love you, without your hating me: But Madam, if you will with a little more tenderness towards me, consider it, you would find, that it is not so easy a matter to do what one ought, or to know what ones duty is. Yet I think, replied she, that as long as you neither: fight against the King your Father, nor mine, you cannot be much blamed. But Madam, answered he, I do not see how I can do that, unless I discover myself unto the King, and by his consent send unto the King of Phrigia. It would be difficult, replied she, for the King your father to know you are his son unless he see you, especially not knowing you to be in his Enemy's Country: Moreover, do you think that the King my father will be contented to lose both the Conqueror and the Conquest in one day? do you not apprehend more probability that he will incline more unto Policy then Generosity in this business? No, no, said she, I will not counsel you to that. What will you then advise me unto, Madam? replied he. Since Timocreon, replied she, knows the state of your fortune, discover unto him the state of your affection unto me also: I know him to be wise and generous; and he will not advise you unto any thing which shall be disserviceable either to the King his Master, or yourself.  
At the last, after much such discourse as this, Cleander sent to seek my father; and also let the Princess see Thimettes and Acrates secretly; and he showed unto her the Letters of the King of Phrigia, and the Queen his wife. After much consultation upon the best course, it was resolved that Cleander should depart without discovering any thing unto Croesus; that my father and I should accompany him; that Thimettes and Acrates should go this voyage also; That after one days journey from Sardis, Cleander should send one of his servants unto Meneceus, with a Letter for him, and another for the King, which he should present unto him, by which he should discover his birth, and assure him that he will never act any thing against his service, nor forget his benefits: That he should write also unto the Prince Myrsiles, unto Mexaris and Abradates, that they should address themselves to the King in his behalf: That in the mean time they should stay upon the Frontiers of Phrigia, and send Timocreon towards the King his father, to acquaint him with the story, and to beseech his favour unto Thimettes and Acrates, who was as generous in his Repentance, as he was weak in committing his Crime, by the Commands of his Master: That Cleander when he was made known should endeavour to move the King his father unto Peace; and that the Princess as well as Meneceus should on their side endeavour the same with the King of Lydia. After these Resolves, she restored the Letters back unto Timocreon, who loving Cleander no less than if he had been his son, was ready to engage his utmost in his service. Since all these Consults and Meetings could not be, but some Spies which the Prince Artesilas always kept about the Princess would perceive it, he was presently acquainted with it. Moreover, since Cleander had not bid his last adieu unto the Princess Palmis, he endeavoured to obtain leave to speak in private with her: and in order to that, the next morning at her return from the Temple, Cleander went unto her, and talked near two hours with her, where such passionate discourse passed, and she returned such generous and obliging answers, not derogating from that exact virtue whereof she made profession, that Cleander, as amorous as he was, could not complain, though all he could obtain from her was, that she engaged herself to esteem him as long as she lived. This separation was so tender on both sides, that it was impossible for Cleander to purge his eyes from that profound melancholy which had seized upon him: so that those who observed it by orders from Artesilas, acquainted him with what they had seen. Then he knowing of all these secret meetings of Timocreon, Thimettes, Acrates, Cleander, the Princess, and myself, he conjectured that there was some close design in hand: 〈…〉 e employed all inventions that he could possibly devise, to discover what it might be: He suborned one of my Father's domestic servants with money, and by him he understood that my father was preparing for a Voyage, and carried with him all his best things: Also he found out that Cleander had sent in all haste to command his men back which were gone into the Army: he learned further, that he had laid Post-horses in five or six places which was not the way unto the Army: Indeed, he had gathered so much, as he persuaded the King by one of his friends, that Cleander had some designs to betray him; that my father and I did the same; and that this Conspiracy was plotted by Thimettes, who seemed (as this friend of Artesilas said) to be out of favour with the Phrygian King, that he might be less suspected in this Court, and that he gave out he came only about the Ransom of his Nephew: That it was apparent Acrates, that Phrygian, had some great design in hand, since Thimettes and he were gone from Sardis before he had released his Nephew, which he said was all his business: That Timocreon did not think his goods safe here during his absence: yet Artesilas spoke not a word against the Princess, but acquainted the King with all he could against my father. But Madam, the business was managed with so much subtlety, that building a most apparent Conspiracy upon these grounds. The next morning Cleander being ready to take his leave of the King, having already bid adieu unto the Prince Myrsiles, Mexaris, Abradates, and also Artesilas, and as he was embracing Esope, who came to receive his Commands, Timocreon, Acrates, and myself being in his Chamber, that same Captain of the Guard, who had heretofore advertised the Princess of the King of Lidia's design, came and arrested Cleander, Thimettes, Timocreon, Acrates, and myself. I leave you to judge Madam, how we were all amazed: Cleander desired to be carried unto the King, but it was not permitted; but they carried him with us into the Citadel of Sardis, lodging us in several Chambers. In this great disorder, my father was so prudent and happy, that he appointed one of his servants, unperceived by any, who carried those things which might be useful for the manifestation of Cleander, and secretly put them into the hands of the Princess: However, the Imprisonment of Cleander was an excellent salve to cure Artesilas, who began to stir abroad within few days after. I will not insist upon relation of the great amazement of the Princess, o● of Cleander: Nor will I tell you the wonder of Croesus, that he should believe a man so generous as Cleander was, and one unto whom he was so much obliged, should betray him. But I shall tell you, that Cleander, enquiring of those about him, what crime would be laid unto his charge, understood how the reports in Sardis were, that he intended to betray the King; to forsake his Country, and revolt unto the King of Phrigia. Knowing then what the Crime which would be charged against him was; and knowing also that his innocency could not be known, but by acknowledging the truth; and since he could not deny a great part of those things which would be charged against him, he resolved upon it, and sent word unto the King by him who commanded the Citadel, that he beseeched him to send some person unto him whom he might trust with a business of importance: Croesus conceiving it advantageous for him that Cleander should repent and confess his crime, sent Meneceus unto him, supposing he would discover all the particulars of his design unto him more freely then unto any other.  
Since Meneceus did ever love Cleander, and in spite of all the Glosses which Artesilas and his friend did put upon their accusation did never think him culpable, but was fully persuaded of his innocency; Cleander did justify himself, and related all the truth; he discovered unto him his birth, and acquainted him with all circumstances, not mentioning any thing of the Princess. And when Meneceus asked him where the Picture and Letters were, and all other things which might justify what he said; he acquainted him that Timocreon had them, and he desired him to ask him for them. After this Meneceus returned to Croesus, and related unto him all that Cleander had said: but since this Prince had a prejudicated opinion, he gave no great credit unto Cleander's words; yet at the solicitation of Meneceus, he appointed him to go unto Timocreon, for the Letters especially which he spoke of, because Croesus had heretofore seen two Letters under the King of Phrygia's own hand, and by comparing them together he might judge better of the truth. Meneceus went out to find out Timocreon, who was then forced to trust him, and confess that the Princess knew something of Cleander's design: for thinking that he unto whom he had given all those things to carry unto the Princess, had doubtless not failed, he was forced for the justification of Cleander's birth unto Croesus, to entreat Meneceus that he would go unto the Princess Palmis for them, and to tell Croesus that it was a Domestic Servant belonging to Timocreon, had givem them unto her. Meneceus who loved my father very well, promised him he would, and kept his word: but he was extremely surprised when he came to the Princess, that she never saw nor heard of this domestic Servant, and consequently never received any of those things, which should have been delivered unto her. Meneceus' sought out for this man with all care, but all in vain, for none could tell what was become of him: so that not being able to produce any thing of what he had promised to show unto Croesus, he would not permit him to speak concerning Cleander, as Son to the King of Phrygia, but looked upon it as an imposture, and a lie, expressly charging Meneceus' not to speak of it unto any, so that no reports of it went about the Court. You may imagine in what a sad condition my father was when he had lost that which would not only have justified Cleander unto Croesus, but which should have made him known unto the King of Phrygia. When Cleander heard of it, he was extremely grieved at it: and the Princess was so full of sadness, that she could not possibly hide her melancholy. However, Artesilas being recovered of his wounds, triumphed over the miseries of his Rival. The Prince Myrsiles, and Abradates, did verily believe that Cleander was not culpable, but there was so much obscurity in his justification, that they could not persuade Croesus he was innocent. As for the Prince Mexaris, though he did not think him criminal more than others did, yet it was thought he was not sorry for his disgrace, by reason of some ambition's thoughts; for he imagined that if Cleander were in disfavour when Croesus died, he might more easily exclude Myrsiles from the Throne, and get the Crown himself. There was none then which openly transacted in the behalf of Cleander, and us, but Meneceus: the Princess not daring to be seen in it, only doing her best in secret, and by clandestine ways. Esope yet must be excepted, who always spoke with boldness worthy of much commendations. Thus you see, the unfortunate Cleander (guilty in appearance, but really innocent) the most miserable man alive. But what sorrows soever he had to see he had lost all hopes of making himself known unto his father, or of ever coming out of prison, the absence of his dear Princess tormented him above all: and when he thought sometimes how near he was unto her, and yet to have no possibility of seeing her, he was not able to support his misery with patience: However, Artesilas who desired that punishment might follow imprisonment, and who was of their mind that stood in fear of chained Lions; did every day invent imposture upon imposture to ruin Cleander, and such scandalous and unworthy reports were spread up and down the Town, that the Princess were strangely alarmed at them. She conceived that if she had so good a heart as to tell the King she had seen these things, which would justify the birth of Cleander, it might do some good in the business, but since she could not do so unless she discovered that innocent League which was between them, she could not resolve upon it: but for all that, seeing his enemies were not satisfied with his imprisonment, but aimed at his life; she overcame herself, and resolved to do it. But then the difficulty was how to advertise Cleander of her intentions to speak unto the King, in case he should put it to the last extremity; for she feared, that if he were not acquainted with it, he might contradict what she should say, and so be himself an obstacle to his justification: so that consulting with Cylenisa upon this Subject, that Lady seeing her Mistress in such a well grounded unquietness; after she had a while thought upon it, told her ingeniously, that the Son of him who commanded the Citadel in Sardis, had a long time showed himself one that was far from hating her; and therefore she verily believed that if she desired him to do her any good office, she should find him very well disposed unto it, what danger soever there might be in the attempt. The Princess at the first did make some difficulty on it, to trust a young man, and a lover; but at last since she knew no better expedient, she consented to employ him. Since Cylenisa was my Cousin, I must be the pretence of that service which she required from her Lover; and since I could not be justified unless Cleander was, and every one knew that his interests were mine, she imagined that Tegeus (for that was the name of Cylenisa's Lover) would not think it strange she should desire to speak with him. The truth is Madam, Cylenisa knew so well how to order the mind of Tegeus, that what difficulties soever there were to speak with Cleander, he would endeavour it, and indeed kept his word: And he came to tell her the next morning, that if she pleased, she might speak with him the night after. At the first Cylenisa could not resolve upon it, but afterwards Tegeus told her the business was not so difficult as she imagined, because the Gardens of the Palace join close almost to the Counterscarpe of the Citadel, there being a back door on that side, and just there she might go and speak with Cleander out of a barred window, and very low, which looked that way, only letting down a Draw-bridg which was over the Mote, and under the window, where she might 〈◊〉 with him very conveniently, without being perceived by any, because he himself had the guard of that side. Tegeus having made the matter both possible and easy, Cylenisa agreed with him, that she would walk very late in the Garden with one of her companions; and when it was the just hour which they should agree upon, they would come unto the end of this little bridge: and to give a sign that it was they, she would bring a dark Lantern, which will hide the light when they pleased: The way being thus resolved upon, Cylenisa returned unto the Princess, to tell her what she had done, but seeing the design so near, she repented; yet considering the danger wherein Cleander was, and that if she should neglect this opportunity, she might perchance not have another, because Tegeus might change his Guard, she resolved to send Cylenisa to acquaint Cleander with her intentions to speak for him, and that they might not contradict one another in their tales: But when she began to consider that Cylenisa might not go alone unto that place, she almost changed her mind, because she durst not confide in any other of her women: Madam, said Cylenisa, fear and recompense will make any faithful, therefore I beseech you, let me tamper with one of my Companions; and suborn the Porter of the Garden towards the Citadel, that after she and I have walked together late there, we may go with a dark Lantern through the great Cypress walk close by the gate which is opposite to that bridge, over which I must pass to speak with Cleander.  
Ah Cylenisa, said the Princess, your expedient is dangerous: There is no other Madam, replied she, unless you will write, and trust your Letter with Tegeus: yet since I am a Cousin unto Soficles, there is less danger in my speaking with Cleander, then there is in writing unto him. The Princess did grieve extremely, and not being able to consent unto what Cylenisa did propound, she resolved upon nothing. But Madam, said she unto her, it concerns the life of Cleander. But Cylenisa, said she Princess, it concerns my own honour. I do not conceive it concerns your honour, or your virtue either, answered Cylenisa, and I know not why generosity should hinder you from doing a good act out of fear to be suspcted for doing a bad one; And the act Madam, though it should come to be known, would rather pass for an act of charity, than a piece of amorous 〈◊〉: and after all this Madam, since you are resolved to speak unto the King, and you know that he would marry you unto Cleander, and that you may well make it known you would save him, I cannot see there any such hazard in the business. The Princess then thought to write her mind, and trust the Letter with Tegeus to give it unto Cleander; but when she considered of the many matters she had to say, and that if by any misfortune this Letter should be lost, she might prejudice both herself, and Cleander, she gave ever that design, and would neither write, nor let Cylenisa go, but remained extremely perplexed: But Esope coming to see her, and telling her, that so much ill was spoken of Cleander, as he took upon him so much boldness as to beseech her, she would protect such an illustrious man as he was; and after this he went away but ill satisfied with her answer, she began to resolve with herself, and told Cylenisa, she was contented she should go unto Cleander, and that she left it unto her 〈◊〉 to choose which of her women she would have with her a But to abridge my discourse, since it hath been already too long; Cylenisa made choice of her companion, and Tegeus sent a dark Lantern; and after she had received full instructions what to say, they went into the Garden with the dark Lantern, which gave no light but when they pleased, and went unto the Cypress Walk, close by the back door, towards the Bridge which Tegeus mentioned unto Cylenisa: but as she told me afterwards, they trembled at every step, and thought twenty times to return back: yet they went on, and being come unto the end of the Bridge, after the Gardener whom they had suborned had opened the door, Cylensia opened and shut the dark Lantern two or three times as was appointed between Tegeus and her (for they passed through the Garden only by the light of the Stars;) immediately after the Bridge was let down, the window opened, and Cleander appeared, or (to say better) was heard.  
Since this window was very low, Cleander speaking in a low voice, Is it possible, said he unto her, that I should have the happiness to speak with you, or is it a dream? Speak Cylenisa, that I may know you, and tell me who is that which is with you. Sir, said she unto him, you may well imagine, since she is here that she is faithful, therefore not to lose a minute of precious time, let me haste to tell you, that the Princess is resolved to save your life, and to tell the King your father, that she knows of your birth; she desired to advertise you of it Sir, lest you should differ, and contradict one another in your relations of it; then Cylenisa acquainted him with all that the Princess gave her in charge, both what she would say unto the King her father, and what Cleander should answer. How Cylenisa (said he, after very serious attention) does that adored and admired Lady take any care for my life, and trouble herself with such difficulties as these? Ah Cylenisa, I could never imagine it: But if she cannot preserve it, by any ways but by prejudice to herself, tell her I conjure you, that I had much rather die then be any cause of harm unto her. But Sir, said she, do you think that your death would be pleasing to her? No, replied he, I think her too good to have any such thoughts; but my life is so useless, and will cause her so many sorrows, that I think it in some sort just not to preserve it by any way which may expose her unto the anger of the King her father: assure her therefore that I can die without murmur; tell her Cylenisa, that I should not be sensible of my misery but for the love of her; and that I do not think my prison tedious but because I cannot see her, and provided I do not lose her Love, I can contentedly lose my Crown and my Life also. As they were thus talking, a Soldier chanced to hear the voice of a woman, and went to acquaint the Governor, who presently took out a Party, some went to Cleander's Chamber, others to the window. Tegeus would have opposed them, but was not able, and his father caused him to be taken: Mean while Cylenisa and her companion hearing a noise, would have fled, and got into the Garden, but they could not possible: Then Cleander, seeing the Princess women taken, and could not help, he both spoke and did such things, as might have discovered that which he had so long concealed. When Cylenisa saw the Soldiers come unto her, and that there was no possibility to escape, she turned the light of her Lantern, and made herself known unto them: they than were much surprised, and turned their violence into civility; not one of the Soldiers but had seen her a hundred times with the Princess, when she came to walk in the Citadel. Cylenisa, who certainly had an excellent spirit and wit, told them, That the danger wherein I was for the love of Cleander, was the cause of her coming thither; that they need not think it strange she should endeavour to save her Cousin, by advising with him who was the cause of his misery, which way they might make his innocency appear. The Soldiers did hearken unto her patiently, and did not contradict what she said: yet they carried her and her companion before the Governor, whom she would have persuaded to let her go unto the Princess, and not to acquaint the King with her being there, but she could not prevail: but on the contrary, since he was very exact, after he had placed these two women with much civility in one Chamber, and given orders to guard the prisoners very carefully, and his son also, he sent to acquaint the King with the passage; and sent also to the Princess, to ask her pardon for detaining her women, supposing that she would not acknowledge them after such an act as this. Since it may easily be imagined what apprehensions all these Parties had upon this accident, I will not stay to relate them: but you may be sure the Princess was extremely surprised and sad; Cleander was desperate; poor Tegeus who loved Cylenisa, feared she would think he betrayed her; Cylenisa was at her wits end as well as her companion; Croesus was astonished to hear of it; and sent Orders unto the Governor, whose name was Partias, to send her and her companion presently to him; and he did so: When Cylenisa came before him, Is it possible, said he unto her, that my daughter should keep one about her, that would do such are act so far unbefitting the modesty of her Sex? Sir, said she unto him, appearances are often fallacious; and this boldness of mine which seems so criminal, will perhaps appear commendable, when you shall hear those truths which I shall tell you: for Sir, I am a Cousin unto Sosicles. 'Tis true (said the King and interrupted her,) but it was unto Cleander with whom you spoke. I do confess it, replied she, for since it is by him that Sosicles may be justified. I might well speak unto him who might make his innocency known. However it be, said he, do you think my daughter would allow you to go from her at midnight? and do you think I can be persuaded that you spoke unto Cleander only concerning the interest of Sosicles? Speak Cylenisa, speak, I say, and tell me ingeniously who set you a work? Then Paetias whispered the King in his ear, and told him, that the Soldiers who heard them speak, and discovered it unto him, did often hear the name of the Princess both in the mouth of Cleander and hers. The King seemed to be much moved at what Paetias told him; for presently remembering the sorrows which the Princess testified at the imprisonment of Cleander, and her endeavours to justify him, he made no doubt but that there was some secret business which Cylenisa would not confess: so that he spoke more sharply to her then before; yet say and do what he could, he could not make her speak a word against the Princess: But her companion who was with her, bring neither so witty, nor so bold, nor so affectionate as she (the King being advised to separate them) he got her by promises and by threaten to tell all she knew: she confessed then ingeniously, that the Princess did know of their coming; but thinking to justify her, she protested that it was only out of compassion to the prisoners, that she sent Cylenisa to speak with them. The King would have made her confess what she heard of Cylenisa's and Cleander's discourse, but she would not answer a word to that, for she said she was so affrighted to be at that time in that place, that she heard their discourse but very confusedly, yet confessing that the name of the Princess was often used. There needed no more to disturb the Soul of the King, who now made no question but that there was a secret Correspondency between Cleander and the Princess his daughter: He went unto Cylenisa again, but with such fury in his words, and so much anger in his eyes, that she stood in need of all her constancy to be undaunted. However, she was carried back to the Citadel, and the King sent unto the Princess (for by this time it was day) to come unto him, which immediately she did: He no sooner saw her, but he commanded all to withdraw; then looking fiercely upon her, I never thought, said he unto her, that you had a heart so base, as to bestow any private affection upon a man that is unknown; upon a man, I say, who certainly is of a base original, since he hath no shift but an Imposture to fly unto to save his life, as if he could make the world believe he was a King's son; a man who after abundance of benefits which I conferred upon him, would in recompense betray me, and ruin me and my Dominions. When the Princess heard her Father speak in such manner, she thought that Cylenisa had confessed all: so that having no disposition to deny a most innocent truth, and injure it by telling lies, resolved to disguise the matter no longer; Sir, said she unto him, it seems you think me to be very much in fault, but thanks be unto the Gods I have this satisfaction of Conscience, that I am certain I am not so. How, said he, are you not infinitely in fault to hold a secret compliance with a grant Delinquent to the State? Should any of my Subjects do as much, he should infallibly die for it, and judge whether your Crime be not greater than any Subjects can be; you who are my Daughter, and is interested in the glory of my Kingdom, and good of my People, and aught to have no other Interest but what is mine. Sir, said she unto him, if I had any other than such, indeed I should think myself most culpable; but since I have not, I most humbly beseech you, to give me one quarter of an hours audience to justify myself. The King with much ado kept silence, and suffered her to speak. This wise Princess began her discourse with the affection the King had to Cleander in his Infancy; likewise with the affection of her Brothers; and the esteem which she herself had of him, repeating in few words, and much art, all the services which he had done for the King; his Victories, his Conquests, and all his hereique Acts: Yet relating all this after such a manner as no suspicion might be she affected him, but only as it she aimed at his justification and truth; Yet Sir (said she unto him, after she had called into his memory whether he would or no all his obligations unto Cleander) this man, so illustrious in every thing, to whom the Prince Atis owed his life, unto whom I am a Debtor for vours; he, I say, should never have moved my heart so much at this time, but by two most powerful Considerations: the one is, because I know you had a design to marry me unto him at your return from this War; the other is, because I understand his original is equal unto mine: besides all this, I am most certain, that he never had any intentions to be●●ay you; nor ever had a more violent desire to acknowledge all your benefits.  
The King wondering and raging that his daughter should know of his design concerning her Marriage, said unto her, and interrupted her, You ought however to have stayed until I had commanded you to marry Cleander, before you gave him any testimonies of your affection: But since you are so obedient unto my will, that you would have married him if it had been my pleasure, pray also hate him when I would have you; and know, that I will punish him for his Crime, and adhere unto no other Interest but mine own. Were he guilty Sir, I should with all my heart do so, replied she, but since he is innocent, and the son of a great King, I think Sir, that I should do you good service in restraining you from incensing the anger of the Gods against you by destroying a Prince who did never justly offend you: For truly Timocreon, Thi●ettes and Acrates told no lies, when they assured that Cleander was son unto the King of Phrigia; I myself have seen all those things, which should have justified his Birth: and moreover, I do most certainly know, that he would never have took part with your Enemies to fight against you. It seems you know very much indeed, said Croesus, and interrupted her, but though you had committed no other Crime than this, to know so exactly the secret thoughts of such a man as Cleander is, a stranger, and a Delinquent, it were enough to deserve no pardon. But Sir, said she unto him, since I cannot justify myself in your opinion, unless I justify Cleander also, and letting you see his real right and true quality, why will you not be pleased to allow me so much patience as to hear me out? Why, said he unto her, would you have me believe your words, because you have lightly given credit unto the deceiving words of Cleander? Do I not plainly see you are his Confederate in this gross Imposture, by which he would make himself the son of a King, just now when he is accused of a Crime which brings his life in danger? Where are all the convincing proofs of it? You tell me you have seen them, but you show not one: As for this Picture which all the Court hath seen, and I myself also have seen, that argues as much as nothing, nor any thing else except the King of Phrigia's Letter: as for that, I confess, I have seen, and know his Character, and it may be of some consideration: but they will show it seems only unto you who does not know it; and will not produce it to show unto me, because I should discover its forgery. In a word, Cleander is unknown, and you ought to look upon him no otherwise; neither ought you to believe that I would have married you unto him, unless I had told you so myself; and if by reason of some reason in State, I should have married you to him, I know not whether or no you would have willingly obeyed 〈◊〉: Moreover, admit Cleander were the son of a King, yet you ought not to hold any secret intelligence with him: but since he said himself to be the son of my Enemy, was it just in you to conceal it from me one minute? Might you not well suppose, that this very circumstance of Enemy was enough to prevent all alliance with him? Which way soever then I consider your actions, I find you so culpable, and in so deep a manner, that I cannot endure the sight of you: Therefore retire unto your Chamber, and obey my orders without meddling any more in the Justification. Since my own justification is inseparably linked unto his, replied she, methinks Sir your command is not just. Go (said he unto her) begun, and answer no more: but without insisting upon your pretended innocency, go and pray unto the Gods, that they will pardon you; for my part I cannot. The Princess Palmis would have replied something, but he would not suffer her; and commanded the Lieutenant of his Guard to carry her unto her Chamber, and be responsible for her person. The Princess then seeing she could not prevail with the King her father, obeyed with tears in her eyes, and returned to her Lodging, without having the comfort of her dear Cylenisa, with whom she might condole her misfortunes. Her Chamber becoming now a Prison, none were admitted, nor permitted to see her, no not so much as the Prince Myrsiles, because he seemed always very affectionate unto Cleander: The Princess of Classomena desired it, but was denied: Abradates endeavoured very much to do her service, yet all in vain: The Prince Mexaris, though glad perhaps of these disorders, yet seemed very angry at it: The Princess Anaxilea, widow of the Prince Atis, remembering what an obstacle the Princess had heretofore been unto her marriage, showed not much generosity: But as for Esope, he was constant, and spoke boldly unto the King, in behalf both of the Princess and Cleander: Meneceus also was very generous, and spoke high, so that the King grew angry with him, and employed him no more in his Counsels, expressly forbidding him to publish that Cleander was the son of a King. As for Artesilas, though he was a Lover of the Princess Palmis, yet her prison was no great grief unto him, because he hoped that this disastrous course would make her repent of her affection unto Cleander, and was in hopes to transact in her behalf so cunningly, as that she might think herself in some sort a Debtor unto him for her Liberty.  
In the mean while Cleander hearing the next day by some of the Guards, that the Princess Palmis was a prisoner: all the sorrows that ever he suffered in all his life, were not comparable to his sufferings then: he saw his fortune was in a pitiful condition: for he knew certainly that he was the son of a King, and had no power to justify himself: he appeared ungrateful and guilty towards Croesus, and was not able to produce any convincing proofs to the contrary: he was in love with the Princess, and knew she loved him again, but according to all appearances, he should never be in a condition to enjoy her, or himself: he heard she was a prisoner for the love of him; and this last consideration made so deep an impression upon his spirits, that he valued not all the rest: until then, he suffered his fetters without any desires of breaking them: but when he heard she was a prisoner, he thought upon nothing but his liberty, to the end he might release her: He desired the Guards to go unto the King, and beseech him that he might immediately die, upon condition she might be set free, and express so many signs of real love, and in so moving a manner, that one of the Guards did offer him all his endeavours for his comfort at the least, if he could do nothing for his liberty: Cleander did accept his offer, and conjured him to go unto the Palace, there inquire very exactly, what Orders and Guards were upon the Princess, that afterwards he might judge whether there was any possibility of sending her a Letter. This offitions Soldier did as Cleander desired him, and went unto the Palace; but being not so wise as well affected, some men that are ready to do any ill offices, espied him, and knowing him to be one of Cleander's Guard, did acquaint the King he was there, who did command him to be seized upon: and since he gave no good reasons for his coming to the Palace: and since information was given that he enquired what guards was kept over the Princess, they clapped him up in prison, and the King imagined there was some design to release her: so that to put her in a place which he conceived inviolable, and to send her further from Cleander, whom he would not yet put to death, as much incensed as he was against him, therefore he sent the Princess the next morning unto Ephesus, unto the Temple of Diana; appointing her who commanded the vowed Vestals there, not to let her speak unto any whosoever; causing the Companion of Cylenisa to be released; and likewise the Son of Pactias, because of his father's fidelity, to have his liberty. This wise Princess desired to take her leave of the King, but the favour was denied her: then she desired to have Cylenisa with her; that also was not granted: so that the day following, none having the liberty to see her, she departed from Sardis, guarded by five hundred horse unto Ephesus, which was three days journeys from thence. But Madam, the way thither was of necessity behind the Garden of the Palace, and by the Citadel, under the window where Cleander did speak with Cylenisa. It happened that this unfortunate Prince, walking in his Chamber, and contemplating his misfortunes, chanced to spy the Princess as she passed, and knew her; she also, looking up, saw him: To tell you Madam, the thoughts of these two illustrious persons at that instant, and how sad this sight was unto both, is not an easy matter. Cleander would have broke the grates: the Princess wished the Coach might go more safely, yet she made signs with her head and her hand, to let him understand she lamented his misfortunes: and he did let her see, by his violent and disordered actions, though full of respect, how great the trouble of his soul was. Mean while the Coach went on, and they lost the sight of one another: But the Princess, as I was told afterwards, looked a long while after upon the place where Cleander was a prisoner. After this Madam, the Court of Lydia was as dull, as it was delightful before. In the mean time Artesilas did not bring his designs to pass, for he could not move Croesus, either to put Cleander to death, or call back the Princess Palmis: Croesus also knowing that the King of Phrygia was entered into his Dominions, was forced to go himself in person unto the Army: and that was one of his reasons why he sent the Princess his daughter unto Ephesus: having no mind to leave her in that place where Cleander was a prisoner: The general state of things did change faces: for you know, that the King of Assyria who had carried away the Princess Mandana, sent to solicit these two Kings who were his Allies, to enter into his Country: and in order unto that, they made a truce between themselves, and did so: going both of them to aid the King of Assyria, and to oppose the King of the Medes whom they feared, or rather indeed the valour of the illustrious Cyrus under the notion of Artamenes, who was so terrible to all Asia. The King of Phrygia notwithstanding the truce, desired that his Troops might not mingle with the Troops of Lydia. The truth is Madam, you know so well what passed in all Asia since that time, as I need not speak of them, nor of Cleander, who being still a prisoner had nothing to do amongst them: for after the King of Assyria's first defeat, Croesus out of some discontent retired and returned unto Sardis, still keeping us and the Princess prisoners. However Artesilas was not a whit more happy; since neither being able to ruin his Rival, nor see his Mistress, it may be said, that he himself was punished for their own crimes. As for Cleander he being of a very obliging disposition, he got the love of all the Guards; and so far that they let him have the liberty to write and receive Letters, in spite of Pactias for bidding them to do so: so that he writ unto Esope, to the end he might acquaint him with all news concerning the Princess, which Esope accordingly did, though I know not which way he went to work: However Cleander, Thimettes, Timocreon, Acrates, and myself, did live most melancholy lives: and so we lived until Croesus who was restless to hear of all the prodigious victories of the Illustrious Cyrus, sent unto all the famous Oracles in the world, though I know not what he intended to inquire of, because there was no return of them, when I came from Sardis. But during the voyages of all these Ambassadors who were sent to consult with the Gods, he ceased not from making great Levies; he employed divers Envoyes to several Princes; and was so busied in some great design which he had in his mind, that he thought much less of Cleander. Then Madam, to shorten my relation, I will make haste to tell you, that Croesus' being gone to muster his Troops, Tegeus the son of Pactias, and Lover of Cylenisa, plotted with Meneceus: and found out ways to release us, love being predominate over all other considerations; perhaps his aims and desires were only to release Cylenisa: But Meneceus, of whom he stood in need, denying him any assistance, unless Cleander, Thimettes, Timocreon, Acrates, and myself, were released also, he consented unto it. So that one night, when I little dream● of liberty, Tegeus, who had suborned the greatest part of Cleander's Guard, and Garrison of Pactias, entered into the Ci●tad I, and going unto Cleander's Chamber, he told him that he was at liberty: and afterwards coming where we were, he told us the same. That which did make the business more easy, was because Pactias was gone two days journey from Sardis: and Artesilas was with the King. Moreover Meneceus who had the Conduct of the business, had provided fifty horse ready to guard us: so that without fight or tumult we went out of the Citadel, at the same door by which the poor Cylenisa entered. I forgot to tell you that Tegeus went not unto the Chamber of Cleander to release him, till after he had been with Cylenisa: for whom he had provided a Coach ready at the coming out of the Citadel. However since Meneceus had many friends in Ephesus, and since besides, that it was a place where they might more easily hide themselves then any other, by reason of many strangers which resorted unto the famous Temple of Diana: and more than that, it was easy to fly away when one pleased, by reason of the Seas nearness. It was resolved to retire thither; and indeed Cleander would not go any where else, because of the Princess Palmis, and there was none that would leave him. The Governor of Ephesus was also an intimate friend of Meneceus, who though he should know him to be there, yet he did not fear that he would do either him or his friends any hurt: Then Madam, when he had gone a days journey from Sardis, we disguised ourselves as well as we could, Cylenisa also with a woman which waited upon her, and would not leave her, did the same: so that we came unto Ephesus as strangers which come to visit the Temple of Diana: Meneceus also, caused those horses which guarded us to enter at several Gates, and resolved to have them always with him in case of any need of them. The first thing Cleander did, was to go about the Temple of Diana, desiring to see the place at least where the Princess was, though he could not see her. In the mean while, Madam, one chance most extraordinarily happened to the great comfort of these illustrious Lovers, which was, That she who commanded the Vestals, whose name was Agesistrata, proved to be Sister unto a Lady in Ephesus, with whom Meneceus in his younger days had been in love, and whom he should have married, if her friends had not opposed it: so that there being this obligation then between them, there continued still a great friendship between them, though they had not seen one another of a long time; Meneceus having done many considerable services towards Croesus, in behalf of her Husband, whom afterwards she married, and since was dead: Menecius then confiding in her, and setting forth the injustice of Croesus, in that he would not suffer Cleander to clear himself, and that the Princess his daughter was sensible of his innocency, he negotiated so well with her, as she obtained of her Sister, that Cylenisa should be entertained in the Temple, and placed with the Princess, not daring to ask leave for Cleander to speak with her, for fear of being refused, and lest it should prejudice her, in lieu of serving her: you may easily imagine what joy this was unto the Princess Palmis, to see her dear Cylenisa again, and to hear Cleander was out of prison, and come unto Ephesus: though she was still very fearful he should be discovered, and taken again: But when Cylenisa told her he seldom stirred out, except mornings and evenings unto the Temple, and that he was well disguised, she was more at quiet. 'Tis true, the liberty of Cleander did make the prison of the Princess more close, (if: may call that sacred place a prison.) For as soon as Croesus heard that Cleandir was released, he sent new Orders unto Agesistrata, to take more care of the Princess Palmis, and that she be better guarded: But since the friend of Meneceus was for us, the doubling of Guards was to no purpose: One strange and happy accident more happened, which was, that Cleander found in the house where he lodged all those things which should testify what he was; and thus it came about: Be pleased to know that the domestic servant whom my father had trusted with all those things, and many others, seeing that his Master was a Prisoner, resolved to steal all that he had of his, and embarked for Ephesus: That he being acquainted with a servant in this house, he left with him many of those things to keep, and amongst the rest all those things which would serve to clear Cleander; declaring unto him, that if he died, he gave him all those things which he left in his hands, and telling him, that he durst not return until his Master were out of prison: But the truth is, he thought that Croesus would put my father to death, and then he might return to Ephesus, and enjoy the fruits of his Theft: yet since he was gone no further than the Isle of Chio, his friend heard often from him; but indeed at last he understood that he was dead, when Cleander came to lodge with his Master, who was a very good friend unto Meneceus: So that desiring to see what was given him, he looked upon all those things which my father's servant had left unto him, and there found all those things which I told you of; and not being able to conceal his wealth out of joy that he had to possess it, he showed the Picture unto his Master's wife, who finding some resemblance between it and Cleander, let him see it, as some extraordinary piece; so that to recover all that he had lost, he recompensed him who had them, and received them again.  
I leave you to judge Madam, what joy this was to Cleander, in finding a Crown, when he had no hopes to enjoy it; he made the Princess Palmis acquainted with this prodigious accident: But do what could be, Meneceus could not obtain permission for Cleander to see the Princess: All that could be done was by the contrivance of Cylenisa, to convey Letters unto her, which she out of her goodness was pleased to answer. In the mean time we knew not what course to take, because Cleander would not go and make himself known unto the King his father, and leave the Princess Palmis at Ephesus; he durst not think of taking her away, though she should consent unto it, not knowing where to find any place of security for her, or whether he should be known for what he was; neither durst he make it known unto Croesus that he had found those things which would manifest what he was, understanding by a Letter from the Princess, that the quality of the King of Phrigia's son would not at all advantage him in the opinion of the King her father. Cleander being thus unresolved what course to take, he was advertised of two things in one day, which moved him unto that resolution, which I shall tell you of; the first was, that I informed him of a Cicilian Ship come into the Port, in which was the King of Pontus and the Princess Mandana: the other was, that absolute Orders came from Croesus, that the Princess his daughter should enter into Orders, and take upon her the habit of a Vestal. You may imagine how much this severity of Croesus' concerned Cleander, and how much it grieved the Princess Palmis, for she had no inclination unto that course. Agesistrata protested unto the Princess, that she would not receive her into Orders, though she would have her, because her will was forced, which was positively against their Customs. This being the state of things, the Princess Mandana stole away from those who watched her, and put herself into the Temple of Diana as a Sanctuary; and the King of Pontus could not get her out again, because the people would have risen against him, if he had attempted it. But Madam, she was no sooner there, but Cleander thought he had found an undoubted means to obtain an inviolable Sanctuary for his Princess, if in getting away the Princess Palmis, he could get away the Princess Mandana also, and carry her unto Ciaxares from the King of Pontus, or else in the absence of Ciaxares unto the illustrious Cyrus: For said he, If this design prosper, although the King my father who is with him, should not acknowledge me, yet the service of restoring the Princess Mandana would be acceptable to the King, that I shall obtain from Cyrus a protection for the Princess Palmis; and it may well be hoped, that the Heavens will favour so just a design, since I do only rescue an innocent Princess out of the hands of her Ravisher, to restore her unto the King her father. This Project seemed so full of Reason, were it but once executed, that neither Thimettes, Meneceus, Tegeus, my father, nor I, did at all contest concerning it. We speedily then sought out ways to execute what Cleander had imagined: We had already some men with us, but not sufficient to do it by open force; therefore policy must be the way: Meneceus did so well employ the power which he had with his ancient Mistress, that he moved her to speak unto her Sister, who is one of a great virtue, much spirit, and greater Soul: he set forth the injustice of Croesus and also the King of Pontus in such a moving manner, as he forced her to acknowledge that whosoever could set the princess Mandana and the princess Palmis in any places of security, would do an act which would be acceptable unto the Gods. She had no sooner said so, but using her own words he told her; that it was she who was best able to do an act so generous: Yet for all this he could not move her to trust those two Princesses into his hands; But she told him, that they had a Custom amongst them, that those who were to be received into Orders, it was permitted them to go once out, to the end it might appear they came in without constraint: so that if the princess Palmis please, she may ask that favour, and carry the Princess Mandana with her at the same time; and that she would give Orders, it should be upon such a day, when the King of Pontus did not know of it; and that it should be at a back door, where no strict Guard was kept, because it was never almost open; and than if they would consent unto it, they might trust themselves with Cleander. After this, having obtained leave to speak unto Cylenisa and Cylenisa having prepared the mind of the princess Palmis, and she the princess Mandana, which two had contracted a great league of friendship in a few days, it was resolved, that the princess Palmis should feign obedience unto the will of the King her father; and that according to the custom she should ask to go out, accompanied with Mandana, and her women; that within three paces of the Temple there should be a Coach ready for the Princesses; That Cleander, Meneceus, Timocreon, Tegeus, and their men, should guard them to the next Port; where a Bark should be ready to waft them unto Phrigia, and from thence they should come by Land hither: So that when I came away, the Bark was ready, and all things fitted for execution of the design, which in all likely hood took effect: That which would more facilitate the enterprise was, the King of Pontus was hurt with the fall of a horse in his thigh, in going from the old Town unto the new, where the Temple of Diana stands: So that though their flight be noised about, yet he was not able to follow, for he was in great pain, and kept his bed. The princess Palmis desired Cleander to promise her by Letter, that he would let her continue always with the princess Mandana, until he had made his peace with Croesus, and until he had made himself known unto the King of Phrigia. However, to go more surely to work, Meneceus moved Cleander to send Thimettes, Acrates, and myself, to the King his father, with all things requisite, to manifest he was his son, and to prepare him for his better reception; also to acquaint the illustrious Cyrus with that service which the generous Cleander would render him, thereby to merit his protection. I had forgot to tell you, that whilst we were at Ephesus, Thimettes heard accidently that his friends had made his peace with the King his Master, so that presenting himself unto him without fear, that Prince no sooner saw him, but he received him with many expressions of tenderness. But when after this he had told him all the story which I have told you, and showed him the Picture, the Letters, and all other things concerning that business; and when that Prince had read his own Letter, and the Note from his dear Elsimena, whose hand he knew at first sight, he apprehended so much joy and so much sorrow both together, that his Soul could not determine which of those two passions to choose. Since it was I who had the honour to relate the story, which he hearkened unto with extreme attention, I was the Witness of this pleasing irresolution: but after that his joy of having a son, and a son so illustrious, had a little mitigated his sorrows for the loss of his dear Elsimena, he desired to see Acrates, who by his generous repentance did easily obtain his pardon. The King had a mind to compare this Picture with that which he always kept, and which was made at the same time; and looking upon that Note which Elsimena writ, he knew the hand so perfectly, that he doubted not at all who was the Writer; but expressed a hundred signs of gratitude and acknowledgement unto Thimettes and me; and being full of impatience to acquaint the Illustrious Cyrus with this welcome news, he went immediately unto him, and commanded me to follow, leaving Thimettes and Acrates at liberty to rest themselves. So Madam, I hope that within this two or three days they will receive certain news, that this great Enterterprize has a happy proceeding.  
Sosicles having ended his Relation, the Princess Araminta thanked him for the pains he took in speaking so long together, and composing the Method of this extraordinary History in so neat and elegant a manner. Cyrus' for his part gave him most obliging language: after which Sosicles withdrew; and then, Sir, said the Princess Araminta unto Cyrus, can it be expected you should be so highly generous, as to promise me, that when the Gods have restored the Princess Mandana unto you, you will not look upon the King my Brother as your Rival? Yes, replied he, and I will promise you more than that, since I will promise you to serve him, whether he will or no, as his Friend, which I am resolved to be, and to restore him the Crown of Pontus: As for the Crown of Bithynia, said he, and smiled, I must let it alone in the hands of Arsamones, to the end that the prince Spitridates may hereafter give it unto you. As they were thus in discourse, the King of Phrigia entered, unto whom the princess Araminta expressed her joys, that he had found a son so illustrious; and then calling to mind the most considerable passages of his life, they could not enough admire at the wonderful providence of the Gods in all things. For my part, said the King of Phrigia as oft as I remember my aver 〈…〉 inclination to this War against Croesus, 〈◊〉 cannot doubt but that the Gods did secretly advertise me, that I ought not to do it: however, if I can but be so happy as to see my Son restore the Princess Mandana unto the illustrious Cyrus, I ask no more at the hands of Heaven. That happiness is too great for me, said Cyrus and sighed, and I never can hope for it. But yet you may very well hope it (replied the Princess Araminta) for according to the Relation of Sosicles the thing seems to be out of doubt. When I was at Sinope, replied Cyrus, he who should then have told me, that I should not have released the Princess Man●ana, I should not have believed him: and when I took Babylon, I could not imagine she should possibly get out. Then after a while of such discourse as this, since it was late, Cyrus took his leave of the Princess Araminta, and returned to the Camp with the King of Phrigia, and with a mind divided between hopes and fears, and absolutely taken up with thoughts of his dear Princess; having also appointed A●●spes before to let the Queen of Susiana know, that he was sorry she found herself not well, and commanding him again to have all imaginable care of her.   
The End of the First Book.   

ARTAMENES, OR CYRUS the GREAT. The Fourth Part. BOOK. II.  
NEver did hopes flatter miserable men with more pleasing minutes; nor ever did fears infuse more cruel torments, than these two contrary passions did procure unto Cyrus, and the King of Assyria: Mandana Released, or Mandana a Captive, was the whole business of their minds; and according as these did present themselves unto their imaginations, so were they either sad or glad; though both of them had always a mixture of displeasure amongst their highest satisfaction, to think that though she be at liberty, yet it was not by their assistance: yet since she was to receive this good office from a Prince who was not yet their Rival, the thought of it did not lessen their joys; and sometimes, not doubting but ere long they should bless their eyes with a sight of their Princess, they both of them began to think of vanquishing one another by combat, according to agreement. Three days, thus passed on; during which time, Cyrus discoursed often with Sosicles, because he had seen his Princess at Ephesus; and during which time also, the King of Phrygia entertained Thimettes and Acrates with much satisfaction by reason of the hope which they had given him to see in the face of Cleander so perfect a resemblance of his dear Elsimena, that he could not possibly doubt, but that he was his Son. The Princess Araminta also was full of joys and hopes, believing that since the King her Brother had Mandana no longer in his power, he would become a friend unto that Prince who offered to set upon his Throne: and so she might one day be in a happier condition than ever. The Queen of Susiana, though a Captive, and not very well in health, had yet the comfort to be served with the same respect, as if she were at Susa: for Araspes was punctual in the observation of Cyrus his commands, and was very assiduous and observant of that fair and wise Queen, whom Cyrus much honoured, and grieved he could not after see her: When those three days were thus passed, Timocreon arrived, and sought for his son Sosicles, to understand from him; how the King of Phragia had received those things which Thimettes, and he had 〈◊〉 unto him: after he understood the truth of all, he went unto the King of Phrygia's Tent, into which Cyrus entered; presently after, Thimettes who met him, had presented him unto the King of Phrygia: so that this Prince no sooner saw Cyrus, but addressing himself, Sir, said he unto him, this is that Timocreon who preserved my Son; and who brings us news of what we so much desire to know; but I know not whether it be good or bad, because he is but newly come. Questionless, the news is but bad for me, replied Cyrus, for I do not look to be so happy as to hear the Princess Mandana is at liberty. 'Tis true, Sir, she is not at liberty, replied Timocreon: but it is not long of the Illustrious Cleander that she is not: since he has done things most difficult to bring it to pass: and had it not been for one misfortune which we could not foresee, doubtless the Princess Mandana, and the Princess Palmis, both had been at liberty.  
Tell us, however, replied perplexed Cyrus, how fortune did hinder our happiness. Sir, answered Timocreon, since I understand by Thimettes, you know all passages, since his departure from Ephesus, I shall relate nothing what has already been told, but I do assure you, never was business better managed than it: for when Agesistrata had advertised Meneceus of the day on which the Princess Palmis was to come out; and the Princess Mandana was to follow her, with two women who waited upon her, and one upon the Princess of Lydia: Meneceus made the Bark ready, whereof he was assured: the fifty men which we had in the Town, lying in Ambuscado, at all the advenues by which one could come unto that Gate, out of which the Princesses were to come; besides these, above thirty friends of Meneceus joined with Cleander, who kept himself in the head of twelve or fifteen only: for all were divided into little Troops, lest those which passed should suspect any thing: he placed himself as near as he could unto the door of the Temple, having a Coach there to carry the Princesses unto the Sea, which was not far off, and where the Bark waited. Since there was none but Sentinels stood in that place, because it was a door out of which seldom any did come, that could be no hindrance in the Enterprise; and without killing them, it was an easy matter to secure them without being perceived by the nearest Court of Guard: Thus Sir, all things being rightly ordered to execute our design; the Bark ready, the Coach come, all our men placed, at all the advenues unto the Temple: Cleander waited for the opening of the door: and the business came so far that the door did open; and I saw the Princess Palmis, who caused another Lady of an admirable beauty to pass before her, whom I supposed to be the Princess Mandana: and I did but see her; for as these Princesses were coming out, and we advancing to receive her, there came out of a house close by two hundred men in Arms, in the head of whom was the Prince Artesilas: you may imagine how Cleander was surprised (who looked for no other resistance but from the King of Pontus) when he saw Artesilas in the head of them, whom he thought had been with Croesus. But though the wonder of Cleander was great, yet that of Artesilas was no less to see Cleander with a Sword in his hand, standing between him, and the door of the Temple: However, as soon as the Princess Palmis spied Artesilas, she went back, and carried the Princess Mandana with her: The door of the Temple was shut in an instant: so that Cleander not being able to release his Princess, nor Artesilas carry her away, as he designed; these two Rivals went one to the other with as much fury as their passions were violent; they spoke one to another, but I think were not understood. In the mean time, all our men, who were dispersed into several parties, gathering together about Cleander, who thought ourselves in a condition not only to resist Artesilas, but also to overcome him; and Cleander fought with so much courage, that he killed his Rival with his own hand, and many more: so that after the death of this Prince, the rest of his men dispersed themselves, and vanished in a moment: so that if they had opened the Gate of the Temple again the very same hour, we had released the Princesses: we knocked at the door, but I think the noise was so great, that the women durst not open it: presently, all the King of Pontus his men, and all those belonging to the Governor of Ephesus, came up to us; and we were so surrounded with a multitude, that it is an absolute miracle to see we are escaped; for Cleander could not resolve to save himself by the Bark which waited for us, but would still be near the Gate of the Temple; yet in the end, seeing an absolute impossibility to resist such a multitude, and thinking he had received a wound in the right hand, resolved to retreat fight until we came to the Bark, unto which we entered in spite of all those who pursued us, and made all haste away: for they threw many Darts at us, and we kept them off us with our Lances: But when we were out of their reach, we looked whether the wound of Cleander was considerable, and found it to be more troublesome, then dangerous: Afterwards we mustered to see whether we had all our men, and except ten or twelve Soldiers whom we had out of Ephesus, and those would not embark with us, we lost not a man: but making a strict search, I found amongst us a servant belonging unto Artesilas, who in this tumult chose rather to enter into our Bark, then to fall into the hands of the Ephesian Governor: I no sooner saw him, but I knew him, and when I showed him unto Cleander, Sir, said he unto him, I beg your pardon for seeking Sanctuary under you. Friend, said Cleander to him, my hatred to thy Master is dead with him, and shall not revive to hurt thee; but however tell us, by what strange accident we met to day, Sir, replied this man, none can tell you better than myself what the design of that Prince whom I served, was; so I have had but too much knowledge of his secrets, since the flight of the Prince Antaleon.  
And then, since he thought to merit much from Cleander, by defaming his Master, in lieu of answering to what was asked, he told us that which we asked not; and related unto us, how the Prince Artesilas was of that odious Conspiracy with the Prince Antaleon: not but that we knew it already, in going between Sardis and Ephesus; but he related it unto us more exactly: Afterwards, he told us, that this Prince knowing of the Orders which Croesus had sent unto Agesistrata, by which he appointed the Princess his daughter to take upon her the habit of a Vestal, he became so desperate, that since he had committed so many Crimes in vain, he was resolved to venture upon one more, which would be profitable unto him: so that his plot was to carry away the Princess; and in order to that, he left the King upon some pretence or other, and disguized himself and his men in habit of Paisants, and kept them in that house out of which you saw us sally, the Master of which had heretofore been his servant: He told us further, that Artasilas resolved to wait there until that door of the Temple was open, and then to seize upon the princess Palmis, and carry her unto a Ship which he had provided ready, with intention that if the door of the Temple did not open within six days, then to force it in the night, and execute his design, as he would now have done, if he had not been prevented. So that we collected thus much from the discourse of this man, that Cleander, at least, preserved the Princess from being carried away by Artesilas, whom the Gods by his own hands did punish for being in such a horrid Conspiracy, as that of the prince Antaleon was. In the mean time, night drawing on, we went to lodge in a little Village, where we caused Cleander's wound to be dressed, and also three or four Soldiers more, who had been wounded also, and whom we left there with men to have a care of them. Afterwards, quitting the Sea, and taking horses, which we expected to wait for us in that Town, and which we sent thither, in case our enterprise should fail, we are come hither; we stayed two days by the way, by reason we sent to know some news of the Princess; and we understood by a man whom Meneceus sent unto his friend, that the Guards were now extremely much more strict about the Temple, and that there was no possibility of attempting any thing in the like manner again. And Agesistrata herself was resolved to favour the going out of the Princesses no more; she conceiving that this sad accident did manifest the Gods were not pleased at her connivance at it before; yet we understood at the same time, that the princess Palmis was fully resolved not to do what the King her father appointed; and Agesistrata sent word unto the King, that she could not receive her: We also understand, that the princess Mandana and she are resolved; and have promised not to part from each other, until better fortunes did smile upon them: In conclusion Sir, Meneceus and I, after we knew thus, waited upon Cleander hither. After Timocreon had done speaking, Cyrus, as sad as he was, did testify unto the King of Phrigia, that he was much obliged unto his son, for what he had done concerning the princess Mandana; desiring a pardon, for not being so sensible of joy at the receiving of his son, as he should have expressed any other time: Not but that I conceive myself interested (said he) in what relates to you; but the truth is, as long as Mandana is Captive, I am not capable of any joy whatsoever. As he would have gone out, the King of Assyria came in; who came to inquire what news Timocreon had brought, for he had heard he was come: But as soon as Cyrus saw him, and being impatient to have him grieved as well as himself; Your hopes are broken, said he, as well as mine, and our Princess is more captive than ever, as you may understand by Timocreon. The King of Assyria drawing nearer him, caused him to repeat all that he had told unto Cyrus, who was gone unto his Tent to lament his misfortunes with more liberty. He sent one notwithstanding to Cleander, to assure him from him, that he should find a most inviolable Sanctuary with him, and desired that he himself might have the honour to present him unto the King his father: And after he had spent two hours in considering the obstinacy of his fate, and had sent to acquaint the princess Araminta with this ill success, one came to tell him, that Cleander, Meneceus and Tegeus were arrived: Making then a truce with his sorrows for a while, or to say better, shutting them up in his heart, to welcome a Prince, whose reputation was so high, he commanded they should enter, and he himself went to meet him. This first Congratulation passed very well on both sides: And as doubtless Cleander was as handsome a man as was in the world, and of as good a carriage, Dyrus was charmed with him at the first sight, and one might see them look upon one another with so many signs of admiration in their eyes, that it was easy to foresee they would love one another most tenderly. I am very unfortunate Sir (said Cleander unto him, holding his arm in a Scarf by reason of the wound he received at Ephesus) that I am forced to appear before you, having failed in that service which I designed to do you. It is rather my part to complain, replied Cyrus, since I fear my misfortune is contagious, and is a cause of yours. I have more cause of fears and sorrows than you, answered Cleander, when I apprehend my misfortunes may chance follow me in your Army. I know not, replied Cyrus, whether your bad fortunes will follow, but I am sure high Fame goes before you; and the name of Illustrious Cleander has been long known unto me, so that I am in love with his glory and honour; in love, I say, most pure, without any envy or jeslousie. Happy Lovers, replied Cleander smiling, are never jealous; and they who possess honour, and deserve it, as the most illustrious Cyrus does, will easily permit others to love it also; yet Sir, at this time, I shall desire nothing but the honour to serve you. You are so loaded with honours and glory, replied Cyrus, that you have no reason to wish more than you have; yet give me leave to oppose your desire of it at this time, since I am already so much obliged unto you, that I must needs endeavour to pay unto the Prince Artamas, that debt which I owe unto the illustrious Cleander. I have so little merited the first of those names, replied he, that I dare hardly take it upon me, though the King my father should appoint it. Then I must go and move him to command you by his absolute Authority, replied Cyrus: and so he carried Cleander unto the Tent of the King his father; and presenting him, Receive here with joy Sir, said he unto him, a Prince who is worthy to be your son, and deserves more Crowns, than Fortune, as prodigal as sometimes she is, knows how to give. The King of Phrigia would have observed the same ceremonious respects which he was used to render unto Cyrus; but that Prince being desirous he should embrace Cleander, and natural affection being stronger than all rules of Civility, he embraced him with unimaginable delight: for as soon as he perceived Cleander, he saw so perfect a resemblance of his dearer Elsimena, that he changed colour, so that his heart as well as eyes and reason telling him that he was really his son, he received him with all the testimonies of a dear affection which a generous father could express unto an illustrious son. Sir, said Cleander unto him, can you acknowledge me for your son, after that which I have had the misfortune to do against you? Yes, replied the King of Phrigia, and smiled; and it is most advantageous for me to do so, otherwise I must acknowledge you to be my Conqueror. If your goodness can pardon me this Crime, answered he, I beseech you let it be no more remembered. It is a Crime so glorious, said Cyrus, that I make a question whether or no the King your father does wish it had never been committed: for as you are a Debtor unto him for your life, so, as he hath told me, you preserved his in this last War: However Cleander, if you will disclaim from what you have already done against the King of Phrigia, I shall oblige him to remember nothing but what the Prince Artamas shall do in the future. I conjure you Sir, replied he. I command you, said the King of Phrigia (if I may command in the presence of one whom I will ever obey) that you prefer the interests of the illustrious Cyrus before your own. This is a Command so unjust (replied the invincible Prince of Per●a) that I will not give Prince Artamas time to answer it: And I declare unto him before you, that I desire no more from him, but what I will render unto him first, that is, a firm friendship: so that amidst my misfortunes I may have the happiness of finding an illustrious Friend the same day the King of Phrigia finds an illustrious Son.  
The King of Phrigia, and the Prince Artamas (whom we will no longer call Cleander) answered Cyrus with all possible civility; and since this Conference had continued something long, the King of Phrigia grew impatient to talk with his Son in private; and therefore they retired: Yet in their passing, the King of Phrigia carried him unto the King of Assyria, and unto the King of Hyrcania, who received him very civilly; the first of these not daring to testify that secret discontent which he always had against the King of Phrigia. In the mean while all the Princess and men of Quality in the Army came to visit the prince Artamas, who doubtless would have thought himself extremely happy, if his love of the princess Palmis had not tormented him. Cyrus then seeing no hopes of releasing Mandana but by force, called a Council of War the day following; where the prince Artamas took his place with much honour, speaking unto every thing which was proposed with as much spirit and judgement, as if a long experience had fortified his Reason; and it plainly appeared, that he who I 〈◊〉 to conquer betimes, is exact in the knowledge of things, when others who have not that experience are ignorant in them; and that it is not impossible, but that a young Conqueror may be more able than an old Captain, who hath not seen so much as he, though lived longer. The Result of this Council was, that since the season of the year was far spent, and Croesus had attempted nothing, to send unto him, and demand the princess Mandana, before any open War was declared. The prince Artamas insisted most upon this resolution, because he could not forget his obligations unto Croesus, notwithstanding the ill usage he had from him: and he used all his Rhetoric to persuade Cyrus unto a trial of all fair means before course was had unto the last Remedy of War. Cyrus had much repugnancy to that Resolution, alleging for reason his ill success of sending into Armenia, and his repentance in sending. But he was answered, that the cases were not alike, since the King of Lydia could not deny, that the princess Mandana was in his Dominions, and therefore he must needs answer directly. Moreover, it was further objected, that it was impossible to besiege Ephesus considering the season of the year, and also considering he had no strength at Sea, therefore the attempt seemed to be unreasonable: especially since if Croesus would protect the Ravisher of Mandana, he must have a more plausible pretence for the War in the eyes of the people. However Cyrus desired that Feraulas might return before he sent unto Croesus, yet fearing he might stay too long, he resolved that Hidaspes should go thither within two or three days; and in the mean time that the Army should advance, and march through part of Phrigia, and enter into Lydia that way, if the Answer of Croesus was not satisfactory.  
In the interem, he had intelligence that Abradates was gone unto Sardis; and he acquainted the Queen his wife with this news, who seemed to be very angry at it; yet he went to visit her, and told her very obligingly, that he was very sorry the King of Susiana would not rather release her by becoming his Friend, then vainly endeavouring to do it by declaring himself his Enemy, though he assured her she should still be treated with the same respect. This great Queen thanked him with Civility answerable to his Generosity: And she commended Araspes so exceedingly, that Cyrus at the going out of her Chamber told him, that he could not please him better, then in pleasing Panthea. From thence he went unto the Princess Araminta, who desired him to contrive it so, that she might go and speak with her Brother: So that it was resolved she should advance towards the Frontiers of Lydia; and that the Queen of Susiana should go this voyage with her, these two Princesses having contracted a great amity one with the other: So that it was to be hoped this Queen might perhaps be serviceable unto her, since the King her husband was in the Enemy's Country. This Resolution being pitched upon, and approved of by the King of Assyria, Cyrus returned to the Camp; and as soon as he came there, Feraulas was returned, and also the man whom the King of Assyria had sent: but both of them related, that it was a thing impossible for them to convey a Letter unto the Princess Mandana: They would have made a full relation of the whole state of things, but understanding that all had been related before they came, they forbore: yet they did relate how the Town and Temple were at this present strictly guarded; how not only all the Soldiery were in Arms, but a great part of the Townsmen also; how they had sent again unto Croesus for new Orders; how the King of Pontus recovered; how a Prophecy of the Hellespontique Sibbil, which none could interpret, made a great noise about the Town, since it would admit of a double interpretation; how this woman was admirable in Prophecies, and seldom was mistaken in the event; how all the Town of Ephesus knew not whether to rejoice or mourn, because this Prophecy promised either great good fortune, or menaced very great misery unto it. Feraulas and the other man said, they endeavoured both of them to procure this Prophecy, but could not possibly obtain it; for being strangers and importunate, it could not be gotten: So that their voyages thriving no better, nor effecting any thing but vexation to their Masters, they durst hardly look upon them: Cyrus did treat Feraulas never the worse; but the King of Assyria being of a more violent composition, could not believe but that the fault was in him he sent: Cyrus then seeing the return of Feraulas was ineffectual, he was ready to dispatch Hidaspes, when he received intelligence that Croesus at the return of his Ambassadors from the Oracles had declared himself, and done the first act of Hostility against Ciaxares: This news saved Hidaspes a Journey, and hasted the march of the Army, which the next morning began to move.  
The Princess Araminta fearing lest those first occasions of war should prove fatal to her Brother, moved the Queen of Sustana to begin their journey, and haste unto the Frontiers, that she might speak with the King her Brother, before he fell into the hands of Cyrus: So that Araspes by orders for that Prince, guarded them unto a Town of Phrygia, towards Lydia, where the Army of Cyrus was to quarter, and where by consequence they might be in safety.  
Cyrus' dispatched a messenger unto Ciaxares to acquaint him with all things; and received news from Thrasibulus, which assured him in general, that he was in great hopes to be happy, both in his war and love. Afterwards marching as fast as it was possible, an Army of above an hundred thousand men should march towards the enemy, the weather and ways were so very bad, and marches so long, that it was not expedient either to besieg places, nor give battles: so that Croesus who desired no more than to have the glory of the first onset, did block up himself so advantageously, that it was not possible for Cyrus to give the first Assault, nor hinder him from putting his Troops in their Winter quarters. So that all which was to be done, was only to make some incursions into the enemy's Country, and skirmish, which did so exceedingly vex Cyrus, that he stood in need of all his constancy to support his excessive sorrow, he could not wonder enough at the proceedings of Croesus; who had begun a war at such a time: and could not choose but think, that he was prompted to follow such military Policies, so contrary to all reason, by such evil destinies as would ruin him. Sometimes he resolved to disguise himself, and go into Ephesus, to see if all attempts to release the Princess were as difficult, as they were reported: Sometimes again he would go and force the Lydians in their en●renched quarters, notwithstanding the ill weather, but when he considered, that though he should do so; yet he had not released Mandana, but still the King of Pontus might carry her away from Ephesus; then he harkened unto reason, and resolved to wait, until there was some more probability of good success in the war. However being much discontented with the incertainty of his fortune, though he never had any desire to inquire what success the future would produce, yet hearing the Hellespontique Sibbel cried up with so many Eulogies, he resolved to send unto her; and indeed, sent Ortalgues with orders to inquire when he might hope for any rest; and to bring back her answer in waiting under her hand. At this time Araminta put him in mind of his word, and his desires concurring with hers, he dispatched Adusius to the King of Pontus, to desire him he would obtain liberty from Croesus to speak with the Princess Araminta, who much desired to confer with him upon some important business. That Prince received Adusius very civilly; and sent unto Sardis to obtain that favour from Croesus, which was granted unto him. The King of Pontus then, and Adusius agreed, that their meeting should be in the Temple, which was a days journey from Ephesus, having only five hundred horse apiece for their Guards. Adusius had orders to inquire of Mandana's health: and by the information of Meneceus he understood she was very well but he could not possibly speak unto her: He being returned to the Camp▪ and the day when this meeting should be being set down, Adusius who had negotiated before, did guard her; Araspes was excused, and Araminta desired that the Prince Phraartes might not accompany her, as he desired. Before her departure, Cyrus and the King of Assyria did visit her, and furnished with such instructions, as such an important business could inspire them withal. As Cyrus was there the first, he had the opportunity to tell her, that she might assure the King of Pontus, that he would engage his honour to remember all his obligations, and that he would promise to restore him his Crown, if he would restore the Princess Mandana: Moreover Cyrus, let this Princess understand that he would most firmly engage himself to be a Protector unto Spitridates, if she should negotiate well for him in this business: but she interrupting Cyrus, Sir, said she unto him, I beseech you, do not mingle my interests with yours, and let me have the honour to negotiate that which concerns the Illustrious Cyrus, and the King of Pontus, my Brother. Cyrus was about to answer her, when the King of Assyria came into the Princess Araminta's Chamber: and adding his prayers with the prayers of his Rival, they conjured her to transact her best in that negotiation: Both these Princes conducted her some two hundred paces from the Army, after she had bid adien unto the Queen of Susiana, who was exceedingly grieved to part from her, though it was but for a short time. The King of Pontus also prepared himself for this parley, and came unto the Temple according to the appointment between him and Adusius; he arrived there some two hours before the Princess his Sister. Since they had not seen one another, since the loss of their Dominions, this meeting did revive the memory of their misfortunes in both their minds. As soon as the Princess came, she was carried into a great Arched H●ll, where commonly they used to keep their Feasts at extraordinary Sacrifices, which for the magnificence of the structure, and beauty of the furniture, did well become the meeting of two such illustrious persons: After the King of Pontus had saluted her with many expressions of tender affection, they did sit down, and all the Company withdrew.  
Is it possible Sir, said she unto him, that after all these unfortunate disasters I should have the happiness to see you again? The condition wherein you see me, answered he, is so miserable, that I make a question whether this meeting will grieve or comfort you; and whether that which you take for a happiness be only some device of Fortune to make us more miserable. Indeed, dear Sister, to what purpose is this interview, unless to make you grieve at my miseries, as I do at yours? You may easily conceive by what I say, that I am not now the same Prince who condemned in you that innocent affection which you had, and I believe still have unto the Prince Sp●tridates: His virtue and my own passion have taught me not to censure Love so severely: The truth is, I was much to blame to condemn that in another which is so predominate in myself: for since I saw you, I have lost Battles, I have lost my Liberty, I have lost Crowns and Kingdoms; yet for all these, before I complain against Fortune, I must complain against Love. Sir, said she unto him, you are in this much to be blamed and pitied, since if you can but overcome this passion, you may yet be happy. Ah Sister, said he, I should not know how to love, if I should imagine there can be any other happiness in the world but in being loved by the Princess Mandana: But however, I beseech you tell me what Considerations did move such earnest desires in you to see me? was it only out of your tenderness, and natural affection? or was it to pity me, and yourself? or else does it relate unto some Interest of Spitridates, or Cyrus, or your own, or mine? I beseech you acquaint me with your real design, that I may the better know in what manner to speak unto you. Sir, said she unto him, though all these Considerations which you have named may claim some share in my design to see you; yet, to speak sincerely, it is your own Interest which most induced me unto it: for Sir, I must tell you, it is only your own fault if you be not happy, and if you do not one of the most heroic Acts that 〈…〉 ver was done: Certainly, said he, I am a very great Lover of honour; and provided that I must not quit the Princess Mandana in acquiring it, I shall do any thing in the world you will propose unto me. Sir, said the Princess Araminta, Mandana does not love you, nor ever will. 'Tis true, said he, but as long as she is in my power, her affection shall never make any of my Rivals happy. Do you not consider Sir, answered she, that by making your Rivals miserable, you make her you love so also, and that you augment your own misfortunes so much the more? For I have authority to tell you, that if you could resolve upon so muc 〈…〉 q 〈…〉 y▪ as to render up a Princess who loves you not unto Cyrus who only hath her heart, and unto whom you are a Debtor for your life, he would in exchange restore you a Crown, which in all probabality you never will get without him; since it is not ordinary to find Protectors who will conquer Kingdoms, and render them unto those they protect. Sister, said that Prince and sighed, I do verily believe that Cyrus would do as much as he says, for I know his generosity better than you, and before you knew him: But though I do esteem this illustrious Rival as much and more than ever I did; and though notwithstanding my love, I am very sensible of my obligations to him for using you so will since he had you in his power; and also though I do confess, I owe my life unto him; yet for all this Cyrus is not the same to the King of ●on●us that Artamenes was. But Sir, this Artamenes, said the Princess, whom you loved ●o tenderly, was then not only on your Enemy's side, but also got Victories from you, and also opposed your Love, and yet though he did dispute with you for the glory, and won so many Bitt●ls from you, still you loved him, and acquainted him with those Conspiracies which were plotted against his life; and commanded that none should fight against him: Since that Sir, he restored you your Liberty, he rendered back what he had conquered in your Dominions, and gave you Forces to suppress those who rebelled against you; and now he offers you a Kingdom, upon condition you will restore Mandana, whose love is impossible to be obtained by you. All this you say Sister, replied he, I confess is full of Reason, and if I had more Ambition than Love, or to express myself better, if my Love were not stronger than my Reason, certainly I ought, in point of Generosity, of Policy, and Ambition, hearken unto this Proposition you make: But in that condition which my Soul is, it is impossible for me so much as to think of it; and I wonder how the Princess Araminta can imagine, that any one can so easily part with what one loves, she, I say, who is so just as to love a Prince whose father was a declared Enemy of my house. Sir, replied she and blushed, Spitridates loved Araminta, but Mandana never loved nor never will love the King of Pontus. If I should love that Princess, replied he, because she loves me, than my love would cease when she ceased loving: but since the foundation of my love is because she is the most amiable in the world, I shall eternally love her, though she never love me: Had I then known, when I had the good fortune to save her life at Sea, that Artamenes was Cyrus, and that Cyrus was my Rival, perhaps, as the temper of my mind was then, I should have restored her unto him: I was then so newly cast out of a Throne, that I thought no Prince could live without it: But now since the charms of the Princess Mandana have enchanted my heart, and am unaccustomed unto Sovereignty, Love has quite abolished Ambition out of my Soul; and if I could pass away all the days of my life with this incomparable Princess, though it were in some desert Isle, where neither Sovereign nor Subject did inhabit, I should esteem myself most happy. Come not then to increase my miseries by awakening a passion, which one more strong than it hath cast into a sleep, and which, if disturbed by such Propositions as these, would but augment my misery. But Sir, replied the Princess of Pontus, what can you ever hope for by detaining her? Could I but hope for any thing, answered he, I should not be so miserable as I am; but I do profess unto you, that I can hope for nothing by it, and do expect every day one misfortune after another: Yet you may assure Cyrus, in answer unto his generosity, as far as I am able, that when I first did understand I was his Rival, I grieved as much at it, as I did at the loss of two Crowns: But since it is Injustice to desire things impossible, oblige him, I entreat you, not to accuse me of ingratitude, in not rendering up the Princess Mandana unto him, for I loved her before he knew her, and shall love her till death. Had I any thing in my power, said he and sighed, which I could offer him by way of Ransom, I should with joy present that any thing unto him: But dear Siste,, since Fortune hath deprived me of all, and left me nothing but Mandana in my power, I beseech you pardon me if I do not redeem your Liberty by my own Ruin: You are in the hands of a generous Conqueror, and I do not fear he will revenge the Injustice I do unto him, upon you: and to excuse me in what I do, consider I beseech you what Love hath moved Spitridates unto: he, for your particular interest, hath left his Father, refused Crowns, and wanders unknown throughout the world; he hath done more for you, than I have done for Mandana: Therefore, my dear Sister, pity me, and do not persuade me unto any impossibilities, which I cannot do.  
But Sir, said she unto him, I did not hate Spitridates, as Mandana hates you: Moreover, if there were any apparent probability, that you keep this Princess for any advantage, I should not so much oppose your design, but pity you for the misfortunes which she is the cause of; yet considering the state of things, I am full persuaded, that all the power of Croesus will sink, and that you with her will sink under it: for do but call to mind all the prodigious Acts which Artamenes and which Cyrus hath done, and you will find the number of his Victories so many, and his Conquests so great, that they cannot be remembered without wonder; and can you think the Gods did raise him unto that height, only to cast him down? Has Fortune, contrary to her Custom, followed him so constantly, purposely to forsake him afterwards? to forsake him whose Power doth every day increase, and seems to hold the destiny of all Asia in his hand: So that plainly foreseeing you will love Mandana, were it not much better than to restore her, and gain a Kingdom by it, then to ruin yourself by keeping her, and at length lose her too?  
Doubtless it had, replied he, if I were able to do it; but since it is not in my power, I must not so much as think of it any more; therefore Sister, I beseech you, discourse no more upon this Subject: for if any upon Earth could persuade me to restore Mandana, it should be Mandana herself: and since I have denied her Tears and her Prayers, pardon me Sister, if I deny your Proposition with abundance of ease, and it is not so difficult to deny a Crown, as it is to deny Liberty unto one who is adored: This divine Princess hath offered me a thing more precious than a Crown, since she hath offered me her friendship, if I would give her Liberty: Judge therefore, if after this I can hearken unto your Propositions from Cyrus. But Sister, I beseech you, do me the favour as not to let my Rival know how constant the Princess Mandana is unto him: but doubtless he is already sufficiently persuaded of it, and there is no need that I myself should confirm him in a truth so advantageous unto him: Use not my own words to make that Prince whom I ought to hate more than I do, to hate me; for really I do esteem him so much, that sometimes I curse my Fortune for forcing me to be his Enemy, since I owe him my life: you may assure him from me, that if the dispute were about nothing but a Crown, I would lay it at his feet, yes and my honour also, which is a thing more dear unto me: but as for Mandana, absolutely I cannot do it: Moreover Sister, the power of Croesus is not so inconsiderable as you imagine it. The King of Assyria, said she and interrupted him, was much more puissant than he, and he subdued him. Croesus', said he, is stronger than the King of Assyria was, because more united; and since his endeavours are to prevent Cyrus from lording it over all Asia, our Soldiers fight for their Country and Liberty, are no less exasperated than myself, who fights for Mandana.  
The Princess Araminta, seeing she could not prevail with the King her Brother, could not restrain her tears, and began to add her prayers unto her reasons, but both to no purpose, for she was compelled to part from him without obtaining her desired end: she perceived that he was something ashamed to be so unjust and ungrateful towards Cyrus whom he esteemed so much, and unto whom he was so great a debtor: yet love was more predominant than his reason, and ruled his soul which was sensible of nothing but that passion. The Sacrificers of that Temple prepared a very magnificent Collation for the Princess Araminta: But she only looked upon it, and thanked them, for her soul was so sad that she could not eat: she departed from thence, and went to lie in a Castle, some fifty furlongs from thence: The parting was very sad, for this Princess imagining, that perhaps she should never see the King her Brother again, or if she did, it would be as a prisoner, and vanquished, she could restrain her tears. Hesionida, who saw into her thoughts, wept as well as she: and the King of Pontus himself seemed much dejected as soon as he had put her into the Coach; and turning himself towards Adusius, Tell your Illustrious Master, said he unto him, it is not the Princess Araminta's fault that I do not satisfy him; nor is it long of my own reason, which tells me, I ought to do it: But tell him, generous Adusius, it is only the Princess Mandana, whom he must accuse for my crime: yet assure him, that I shall dispute with him for her, with so much carriage, that though I be overcome, it will be without shame, since my death and my defeat will not be unworthy of my Princess, and my Conqueror. Adusius promising to obey him, the Coach went on; and the King of Pontus taking horse, the Princess returned towards the Camp, and the King her Brother towards Ephesus, with both their minds filled with various thoughts, but all melancholy.  
Cyrus, and the King of Assyria, during the absence of Araminta, had many a restless thought, for their hopes were not strong enough to make them think that this meeting would procure the liberty of Mandana: since though the King of Pontus would have consented, yet Croesus perhaps would not: But since fears and hopes are the life of Lovers, they feared and they hoped, successively one after another. The day in which the Princess Araminta was expected back, being come, they went to meet her; many persons of quality, amongst the rest, the Prince Phraartes did follow then. These two Illustrious Rivals, riding alone some distance before the rest, after a while of silence, and transported with their passions, began to discourse. Can you believe, said the King of Assyria unto Cyrus, that our Rival will so much as hearken unto the Princess Araminta? Since I know him to be affable and civil, said Cyrus, I am confident he will lend her a hearing. But since I knew him to be in love, said the King of Assyria, I am confident he will refuse the proposition which you make him: at the least, I am certain, that though you should offer to restore unto me Babylon, and all my Dominions, which are more considerable than the Kingdom of Pontus; and though I were certain to be vanquished in the Combat which we are to fight, I had rather die in keeping Mandana, then mount the Throne, by parting with her unto you. This thought, replied Cyrus, is worthy of yourself, and of the Princess whom we adore, and speaks so much violent affection, as it must needs be concluded after this, that they who maintain love is the cause of love again, are much deceived; since if it were so, the Princess Mandana should have divided hearts, being so infinitely loved and adored as she is, both by the King of Assyria, the King of Pontus, and the unhappy Cyrus: for Sir, said he, and looked upon his Rival, since you are able to refuse one Crown, rather than part with Mandana, I would lose an hundred, if I had them, and assume as many setters as I quitted Sceptres, rather than alter my thoughts of her. As they were thus in discourse, they espied the horses, and immediately after, the Coach of the Princess Araminta: and riding before the rest, they went to meet her: The Coach staying they lighted from their horses, and came towards her with beating hearts; yet they no sooner saw her put up her hood, but they perceived by her eyes that her negotiation had not taken effect; and knew by the first word she spoke, that they had more reason to fear then hope: yet both of them did most civilly thank her, especially Cyrus who having no mind to stay her any longer in that place, told her, that they should have better conveniency to acknowledge their obligations unto her at her own lodging: she had a great mind to have them with her in the Coach, but there were so many women, that it could not be, therefore these Princes took horse, and went with her unto her lodging, whither the Queen of Susiana came, being conducted by Araspes, who almost never left her. When they were come thither, this wise Princess told them what she could not conceal, that the King her Brother would not restore the Princess Mandana: but she expressed herself with so much prudence, and such good language, that she did rather less●n, then augment their resentments against the King of Pontus her Brother, Adusius acquainted Cyrus as he lighted from his horse, with what that Prince did charge him withal: who out of his respects unto the Princess Araminta, seemed not transported with it, but said, I am extremely sorry, that I am thus constrained to be an enemy unto so great a Prince, yet notwithstanding Madam, I promise you, that though the fortune of Arms does favour me, yet I will not employ the power of a Conqueror against him any further, then shall only concern the interest of the Princess Mandana: and do here declare unto you, that he shall never be further captive, then as the Princess Mandana makes him: that hand which hath offered him a Crown, shall never fetter him. But the King of Assyria, who was naturally of a more violent temper, had much ado to contain himself; and could not choose, for all his respects unto Araminta, but cast our such sharp language as contained many menaces, and much anger. After this, Cyrus, and the King of Assyria withdrew, and Phraartes only, when all the Company was gone, continued his visit.  
Since the return of this Princess Cyrus did so bestir himself, that though Winter was not yet past, he began to annoy his enemies: Not a day did pass wherein he did not send out some skirmishing parties, and sometimes went out himself. He received intelligence upon intelligence from all parts; and employed his time in informing himself how Mandana did: what forces Croesus had, which way his designs aimed; how he might cross them, and by what means he might release his Princess: he gave orders for all necessaries fitting for a great Siege, not knowing whether he should be put unto it: he dispatched away towards Thrasibulus, for provision of a Fleet, in case he was to besiege Ephesus. But as the Spring time of the year was near, he received such news as much joyed him, which was, That Croesus' hearing fame speak loud in behalf of Artamas, whom he knew by the name of Cleander, That he was really the King of Phrygia's Son, and so acknowledge, he resolved to recall the Princess his daughter unto Sardis, and to bring the Princess Mandana with her, as thinking that a place of greater security than Ephesus. This news was wondrous welcome unto Cyrus, as well because Mandana would be far from Sea, as because he had hopes to release her in the way as she came: As Artamas was very well acquainted with that Country, so he told him, that he knew an infallible way to place an ambush in a Wood, close by the way, where they must of necessity pass in going from Ephesus to Sardis, which their enemies could not possibly avoid, and where in all likelihood he might intercept and release the Princesses. So that their only business was to be informed of the certain time when they would set out of Ephesus, and what number their Convoy consisted of: Feraulas was dispatched thither with Letters from Meneceus unto his friends there. Timocreon sent also to Sardis, so did Tegeus, to the end they might every way receive intelligence, and not be mistaken. This fresh hope put such an impression of joy into the heart and eyes of Cyrus, that he seemed more fresh and lovely then ever; his conversation being now not so melancholy as before, it did exceedingly delight the Queen of Susiana, and the Princess Araminta: as for the last of which, the condition of the King of Pontus, the absence of Spitridates, and the Courtship of the Prince Phraartes, all these considerations did procure her many angry hours. Panthea also was not without her share of sorrows, yet the civilities of Cyrus, his pleasant addresses, and his spirit, did often times suspend them; for he endeavoured as much as possible he could to make their captivities less tedions unto them.  
Whilst this was the State of Affairs, and whilst all Asia was in Arms, waiting for nothing, but until the Sun had dried up the field of battle, and produced fresh palms to crown the Conqueror: Cyrus, being full of pleasant impatience since he hoped ere long to release Mandana, and acquire new glory, saw Artaban arrive, whom Ciaxares had sent unto him; and who informed him, that all Medea was in peace, that Ciaxares was in health, and that he would send Aglatidas back unto him with fresh supplies. At the name of Aglatidas, Cyrus embraced Artaban, and enquired very earnestly how he did; Sir, said Artaban unto him, I have orders from him to relate unto you the sequel of his history, which is no less full of admiration, than that part you know already was extraordinary: It is Megabises then, replied Cyrus, who disturbs his happiness. It is in vain Sir, replied he, for you to guests at his adventures, for they are so strange that it is impossible they should be imagined. However, since Artaban seemed very weary, Cyrus would then keep him no longer from his rest, but deferred the relation of it until the next day. And in the mean time he managed his time so well, and took such orders for all things that were necessary, as the next day he came unto Artaban, with intention to hear this Story. Since Cyrus and he were alone, Artaban put that Prince in memory of Arbates and his Cheat; of Aglatidas and his Jealousy in seeing Megabises and Amestris together in the Garden; of his Despair and Exile; of his saigned Passion unto Anatisa at his return; of the sorrows which this feigned Passion caused in Amestris, because she thought it real: how she knew Aglatidas was jealous, but knew not of whom; of the odd Resolution she took to justify herself in his opinion, by marrying Ottanus, of whom she was certain he was not jealous, nor could be; of her Marriage; of her, and his own Despair, when they knew their reciprocal innocency; and also their last parting. After a short Revival of all these passages, Cyrus turning himself towards Artaban, I do very well remember them all, said he unto him, the misfortunes of my friends do not so easily sl●p out of my memory; and therefore I pray you satisfy my Curiosity, and relate all that concerns Aglatidas: Then Artaban obeying his Commands, began thus.  

The Sequel of the History of AGLATIDAS and AMESTRIS.  
FOr your better understanding the Story of Aglatidas, and the accidents happened unto him since his return into Medea, I must acquaint you Sir with the Adventures of Amestris since her Marriage with Ottanus, and since that sad separation of Aglatidas and her, wherein both Love and Virtue did eminently appear, and reside both at a time in the heart of Amestris. But that you may judge of her sufferings, it is requisite I should make a particular description of the person, humour and spirit of Ottanus: for since it was Aglatidas who spoke of him unto you at Sinope, and since I know him to be as wise and reserved a man as lives, doubtless he would not aggravate his faults. Imagine then Ottanus to be very tall, but far from handsome; of a sullen, fierce and subtle aspect, and an unpleasing and forced action, of a rude and boarish conversation; with these qualities imagine him to be of as much spirit and courage as ever any had: So that if an art could have been found out to have separated the good qualities of Ottanus from his bad, there was enough to be found in him to have sufficiently furnished a complete man, and also a very Monster: However, since that spirit which he had was of a turbulent and restless temper, it had been better both for himself and for Amestris, if he had been a dull Blockhead, as I shall hereafter let you know; for if he had been so, he had not so much tormented himself, nor persecuted her. You may remember Sir, how suddenly he became happy, by reason of the odd humour in that fair Lady: his happiness was so great, that at the first he thought upon nothing else, but of enjoying her he loved: and so solely devoted his heart unto joy, as I believe he did not observe the melancholy of Amestris on the marriage day; and I think it was a long time after, before he began to take any notice whether she was pleasant or discontented. The truth is, his good fortune seemed to be as great as possible, for he had married with her own consent, the fairest, the most virtuous, and the richest Lady in all Ecbatane, who in her own choice preferred him before all the complete Gallants of the Court: Moreover, the two Rivals who were most to be feared, were out of Town, to wit, Aglatidas and Megabises; so that consider his felicity in that respect, it could not but be imagined very great: Also, he was so excessively sensible of it for a while, that he spoke of nothing else: and whilst Amestris was weeping in secret with her dear Menasta, Ottanus was publishing his joy unto all the world. This prudent Lady was so wise as to hide her discontents from her husband: But since it was an intolerable torment, to be always in a constra ned mode, she shunned the company of all others as much as she could, and forced herself only in the presence of Ottanus. She always delighted in solitude more than company; and Ottanus did seem far from any jealousy: But after the first edge of his joy was taken off, and he returned unto his accustomed dull humour, he began to consider, among the rest of his sullen muse, what reason Amestris had, after she had so long a time treated him rigorously, to change upon a sudden, and make him happy: he resolved to ask her the reason of her sudden alteration; he pressed her very earnestly to tell him her reasons, why she hated him, and why she loved him: for said he unto her, I am certain the change was not in me, but yourself.  
This unexpected Question did so surprise Amestris, that she blushed, and gave him 〈◊〉 satisfactory answer: yet she told him, that as long as her Father lived, the disposition of herself was in him; and after his death she was resolved to marry according to her own affection; but she spoke this with so much disorder in her countenance, that Ottanus changed colour as well as she: Then urging her no further, he went to walk by himself, as one of my intimate friends, who was also a friend of his, did tell me, and revealed all his secrets unto me: But oh Heavens, what odd fantastical thoughts did come into his mind during this walk? and how severely did he punish himself with his own capricious fancy? Then he called to mind all the severity which Amestris expressed towards him: he▪ remembered all her scorn of him, and the great difference which she made between him and Aglatidas or Megabises, and did not forget any act which this fair and virtuous Lady did either in contempt of him, or in advantage unto any of his Rivals. However (said he, after a memory of all these things) I am the Enjoyer of Amestris, and all my Rivals, which in appearance were then more happy, were yet really more unfortunate: What then would I have? said he; and what do I want to complete my happiness? Then would he walk a while in a more calm temper: and thinking he had settled himself in more tranquillity of mind, he gave over the thought of these things, and began to delight himself in the variety of flowers which grew in the Garden where he walked: he quitted that shady melancholy walk which he made choice of at first, and took one of a more open air; but notwithstanding the enameled beauty and variety of flowers, as soon as he had changed places, he began to make comparisons betwixt himself and his Rivals, and he could find no reason in the world why Amestris should make choice of him before them: and though it be the custom of all the world to flatter themselves, and seldom to do Justice when they are their own Judges; yet Ottanus in this business did censure himself with all severity possible; he concluded then, that Amestris ought not to have made choice of him, since she had no prepossessed opinion of him, or affection to him, as he knew she had not: For (said he) the very day before my happiness she was intolerably incensed against me, I never found her more cruel or uncivil towards me in her life then that day, and the next morning the fit took her to marry me, and did so, though I could never conceive any Reason why she should think of so much happiness for me: But what matter is it which way our good fortune comes, so we enjoy it? Amestris is mine, and all my Rivals go without her; nor is there any likelihood they ever had any shares in her heart, since she made not choice of any amongst them, as if she had pleased she might have done, but preferred one whom they loved not before them all: Yet for all this, said he, Amestris did not love me two days before she married me; and I am most certain I used neither any charms nor enchantments to change her heart; nor did I so much as ask that favour from the hands of Heaven, because I saw so little probability of obtaining it, yet upon a sudden I became happy and— Then he stayed a while, and went no further: Afterwards repenting himself of what he had said, and what he thought to have said; But am I very well assured that I am happy? and is it not so that I have only changed misfortunes? And indeed Ottanus (as my friend, whose name was Artemon, of whom I already spoke, since told me) after he had well examined the matter, and sufficiently tormented himself, could never resolve with himself whether he was happy or unhappy; but he went home very reserved and melancholy: He resolved to get the mastery of his mind, and wrestle with those thoughts which disturbed his good fortune; and indeed for some certain days did endeavour to be contented. As for Amestris, her thoughts were as far from any calm serenity, as the spirit of Ottanus was; and she thought herself the most miserable woman upon Earth, especially since she knew the innocency of Aglatidas: for before that, though she had an extreme aversion towards Ottanus, yet she had some consolation in her hopes to undeceive Aglatidas in the opinion he had of her, and if he were once undeceived, then had she cruelly revenged herself upon him: But as the state of things were, knowing that if she had not married Ottanus, she might have been happy, and Aglatidas contented, she suffered unconceivable torment of mind: she could find no consolation in condemning him who was the cause of her sufferings, nor in any thing else but condemning herself. However, Aglatidas at parting having sent a Letter unto Menasta to give unto Amestris, she quitted herself very faithfully, and gave it unto her though with much ado to move her unto a reception of it: For since Amestris was as virtuous as fair, she conceived it something against the Rules of Virtue to receive any expressions of love from Aglatidas; yet after Menasta promised her it should be the last she should be troubled with, she read it; and this was the Contents:  
The miserable AGLATIDAS unto the unfortunate AMESTRIS.  
I Can never consent to go far from you before I have asked Pardon for being a cause of your sorrows: I would I were able, for your tranquilities sake, to wish you would absolutely forget me; but I do confess my weakness, and acknowledge that I cannot be so generous; but on the contrary, I desire that the remembrance of my constant Passion may be the greatest torment of your life. As for mine, I do promise you it shall be so miserable, that unless you be the most unhuman woman in the world, you will have so much goodness as to let me know you pity me, lest I should die with despair.  
AGLATIDAS.  
After Amestris had read this Letter with tears in her eyes, though she refused to receive it at the first, yet she kept it at the last, and would not give it again unto Menasta: and talking together concerning the crossness of these accidents, Menasta told her, that since things past and done cannot be recalled and undone, the best way was to make the best of things one could, and to comfort one's self. Ah Menasta, said Amestris, how difficult is this counsel to be practised? and how hard a matter is it to find any comfort, when one is forced to see him continually whom one hates, and never to see him one loves? and I assure you, that since the time Aglatidas did justify himself in my opinion, the aversion which I ever had towards Ottanus is so much augmented, as I cannot tell which is the greater torment, never to see Aglatidas, or continually to see Ottanus: for when I do not see Ottanus, I have but the moiety of my misery, because than I think very often upon Aglatidas without any remembrance of Ottanus: But as for Ottanus, I do confess my dear Menasta with shame, that I never look upon him but I think upon Aglatidas, and at the same time look upon Ottanus as the only obstacle of my felicity, and likewise the felicity of Aglatidas: I use my best endeavours to choke such thoughts, but cannot hinder them: Ottanus never does any act, or speaks one word, that pleaseth me, and which does not make me remember, how Aglatidas was wont to tell me of a hundred thousand pleasant things: However, though I cannot be Mistress over the secret motions of my heart, yet I strive to set the best face I can upon them in his presence; and knowing that since he is my Husband, both the Gods, and Virtue, and Decency, do all require my obedience unto him, and that I be complacential towards him, this duty and complacency I do pay; but it is with such a horrible repugnancy, and by doing such extraordinary violence to myself, that I wonder it doth not cost me both my Reason and my Life.  
But, said Menasta unto her, the only way to find rest and remedy, is to divert yourself sometimes, and see the world as heretofore you have done: for when you are in company, and walking abroad in the conversation of wits, and pleasant men, you would less think upon either Aglatidas or Ottanus, since the noise and tumult of the world does at the least take up the mind, if not divert it, the variety of men which one shall see; news, walks, wit, music and discourse will insensibly expel melancholy, and make one delight in company. Those who use these Remedies, replied Amestris, do certainly complain but of common sorrows: but they who use such as I do, do know Menasta, that all these things which you propound unto me as Remedies, are so far from that, as they are multiplications of miseries: and indeed, how do you think I can care for dressing myself as I was accustomed, when I desire to please none, and when all the world displeaseth me? How can I endure to be perpetually in the conversation of men, who would but importune me, and grieve me more in lieu of comforting me? You know that all I can see, are either Friends or Enemies unto Aglatidas: So that the same which you think would make me forget him, will revive the remembrance of him: Should I go unto any Balls, considering the humour I am in, they would be so far from diverting me, that I do not think I should know so much as the difference of Tunes: Music would but make my heart more heavy in lieu of easing it: As for News, which you prescribe as a remedy, since it pleaseth none but a certain sort of men, who love to busy themselves in things which concerns them not, it cannot by consequence delight me, since I never think upon any thing but what concerns myself, and never cares for the rest: Let it therefore be concluded Menasta, that solitary walks is the only recreation I can take; and not upon the banks of Orontes, where none walk but such as would only see and be seen: Certainly I should see nothing there that would please me; and if I should do so, perhaps Ottanus (to augment my misery if it were possible) would become jealous of me. But then, said Menasta, how do you intent to live? I intent to live, replied she, as one that would quickly die. This Resolution, replied Menasta, is most lamentable, however I beseech you do not banish me from your Company. Ah my dear Menasta, said Amestris, I cannot have such a thought: but since you cannot be much in my company, unless you banish yourself from the rest of the world, I ought to deprive myself of my only consolation, which is your company.  
Menasta than made new Protestations of friendship unto her, and so they parted; but yet Amestris was as good as her word, and lived a most retired life: And though it be the custom of new married people to be most gay, and more expensive at that time, than any other of their lives, yet she on the contrary was more negligent of herself then ever, she feigned herself not well, to the end she might avoid all places of pleasure; she never made any visits, but such as were of absolute and obliging necessity; nor would permit any to visit her; so that she who of all the Court was most visited and courted, became the most solitary, and least frequented: she was so early every morning at the Temple, that not only all the Ladies, but all the Gallants of Ecbatan were asleep when she was there: So that never Husband had more reason to be at rest then Ottanus; and the way of living which Amestris used, was certainly enough to have satisfied the most jealous Lover in the world: Yet Sir, all these Antidotes against that Poison, was so far from satisfying him, that they augmented his malady, as the like was never heard: Yet notwithstanding at the first, he was glad of that which did so much torment him afterwards; and thought, that to have a fair wife whom none saw but himself, was no mean happiness: But yet this reservedness of Amestris did make so great a noise in the world, that nothing else was talked on; and since it was observed, that neither she nor Aglatidas were to be seen, none could understand the real cause of it; but they thought that Amestris lived in that manner, because Ottanus was jealous, and had commanded her so to do: so that he had a hundred curses every day, for causing so fair a Lady to live so miserable a life: and since no Subject is so fit an Anvil to forge a hundred thousand extravagant Tales upon, as a jealous Husband; Ottanus was the mark that every wit and tongue did shoot at; and in less than eight days, long Histories were made of his Jealousy: In so much as Artemon, of whom I spoke before, who was his Friend and Cousin, resolved to acquaint him with the voice of the people, thinking to do a good office both unto him and Amestris: and though he knew the spirit of Ottanus to be very odd, and that the business itself was something difficult to tell, yet he resolved upon it, and one day went unto him: After a while of talk upon things indifferent, he asked how Amestris did; and as he answered she was very well, Artemon told him all her Friends complain that they can never see her, or to speak more sincerely, said he unto him, They complain against you, for they suppose she would not forsake them but by orders from you: Then did he acquaint him with some reports of him, yet concealing the bitter part of them: Ottanus was amazed at the discourse of Artemon, and seriously protested unto him, that he never desired Amestris should so retire from company, but that her reservedness was voluntary, and proceeded from herself only. No, no, said Artemon, you cannot persuade me to believe it; but since you know I am your Friend, you may very well make an ingenious Confession of your weakness unto me: after you have done so, I shall say you have a mind to satisfy the world: But to make me believe, that Amestris, who all her life lived in the company of complete men, and delighted herself with variety of Recreations, should change her course the very next day after her Marriage, unless you had commanded her, or at the least unless she knew that living so would please you; this, I say, is a thing which I cannot believe. I do protest unto you, said Ottanus to him, that I am no cause at all of her alteration: And I do protest unto you, said Artemon, that I do not believe you; yet to speak sincerely and plainly unto you, think Ottanus, that Amestris is yet too young to begin so severe a course of living; and I have heard many say, that a Husband who is jealous without cause, may afterwards have cause to be so, and thank himself for it: I know the virtue of Amestris is so great, that you are not in any danger of such a misery: but for all that, there is no great pleasure to be taken in being the common talk of the world; and the more virtuous a wife is, the more foolish the Husband is, and more tales are told, if he be jealous: Therefore, if you will take my advice, be not so; or if you needs must be, at the least hide it handsomely: A Lover, I do confess, may be jealous without dishonour; and seldom is love long without some sparks of it: yet a Husband cannot seem to be so, but he exposeth himself to be the mock of all the world: I know it is some injustice to excuse the one, and condemn the other; but since it is grown to be the universal opinion of the world, you cannot alter it; therefore alter yourself, if you can.  
Ottanus seeing he could not persuade Artemon to believe him, and being vexed to the soul that such tales should be commonly told of him, he carried Artemon whether he would or no unto the Chamber of Amestris, to ask her before him, whether ever he did so much as seem to desire, she should retire herself from the world: Artemon thinking Amestris would perhaps be pleased, if he could contribute any thing that might cause an alteration in her life, went with him. As soon as they entered, seeing she was alone in her Closet: I pray, Madam, speak, said Ottanus to her, whether ever I desired you to forbear any visits, or to go any more unto Walks, or Balls: Did I ever forbid you any handsome dress, or refuse any company that ever came unto you? or did I ever bid you go unto the Temple by break of day? as it is reported over all Ecbatan? Sir, answered Amestris, and blushed, I cannot think these are any who have such an ill opinion either of you or me, as to say any such thing: Ask Artemon, replied he, who will tell you, that because you are more solitary than heretofore you used to be, it is said that I am jealous. I had rather, answered Amestris, they should say, you are jealous, and that I obey you, then say I go to Balls and Walks against your Commands. But since it befits me to justify you, Know Artemon, (said she, and turned towards him) that this change which is observed in me, is not properly a change, since it was always my natural inclination, which I was forced to hide as long as Artambares and Hermanista lived, because they were not so indulgent towards me as Ottanus is, who suffering me to be Mistress of my own will, I can now live without any forcing myself, as before I did: It must needs be confessed, replied Artemon, and smiled, that if you did force your inclination, you did dissemble it admirably well: but however, (said he further, thinking to please Amestris whom he much esteemed) since you did heretofore force your disposition to obey a father in exposing yourself unto the view of the world: doubtless you canedo no less now to preserve the honour of a husband, who is accused of much injustice. I do not think (said Amestris much puzzled) that ever Ottanus will be persuaded by such ill grounded reports: for I have seen none since he was married of whom he can be jealous, and therefore I hope, that in spite of all malicious Rumours, he will permit me the freedom to prefer the tranquillity of my Closet, before the tumult of the Court, of which I am weary. Then I beseech you, tell me (said Artemon, who imagined that Amestris spoke so only to please Ottanus) what you would have me answer unto those who ask me how you live, and what you do? You may tell them, replied she, that sometimes I read, sometimes I employ myself in works of gold and silver, sometimes I limb, and draw pictures; and sometimes I enjoy my solitude in remembering all the follies of many men, who think themselves very wise, and are not so. Whilst Amestris was thus talking, Ottanus walked up and down, and said nothing; and observing that she was angry at what Artemon had said unto her, Madam, said he, I hope you will no refuse to justify me, and my honour in the opinion of the world; therefore I do conjure you to look upon it, and vindicate me: for I cannot endure to be any longer accused for keeping you up as a prisoner.  
Sir, said she unto him, if you let your felicity depend upon the opinion of others, I think myself in an ill condition; and if I should expose myself unto the world again, I know not whether the same men that unjustly report you to be jealous, will not report me to be too gallant and free, therefore it is much better not to run the hazard of that danger. Then some came into the Closet, who had business with Ottanus, so that he could not make a reply unto Amestris: but he went out, and Artemon with him, leaving her alone in much wonder at the passage. Menasta came to her presently after; and observing some disorders in her looks, What's the matter, said she unto her, since yesterday when I left you? I am so angry, replied Amestris, that I can hardly tell you the cause of it; for truly Menasta, excepting yourself, I had but one comfort in the world, which was my solitude, and which I thought I should have enjoyed quietly until my death, yet they will deprive me of that: then she related unto her the whole passage: But Menasta, said she, it is true, that all the world reports Ottanus to be jealous? It is certain, answered she, that such a rumour runs about the Town, and more certain, that I never went about to undeceive them who reports it, because as long as they believe that to be the cause of your retiredness, they would never look after the true cause; and consequently, never find it out. And why, said Amestris, did you not acquaint me with these things? Because I saw you so sad, answered Menasta, that I scrupled whether I should tell such unpleasant news: yet since you do know it, I wish it may be a means to restore you again unto your friends. No, no, answered Amestris, deceive not yourself, for I shall never do so; and were it for no other reason, but the having such a Husband as Ottanus is, I will never see them again; but Menasta, I shall have further cause not to love him; for he will by all means expose me to the view of the world. For my part, said Menasta, I do not think that Ottanus did press you unto it so much as you think; and he would never have spoke as he did, but because Artemon was present: however, for your diversion a little, let me tell you, that Anatisa hearing of your marriage with Ottanus in the Country where she is, is rapt into a little Heaven of joy: and makes no question but her own marriage would be next with Aglatidas, as soon as she came to Ecbatan: but afterwards hearing that he was vanished, and had settled all his Affairs, as one that would not return again, her sorrows were as great as her joys were before: and since Tatlers do seldom get love either from such as themselves, or others, every one had a vie in disadvantage of Anatisa, who did so crack of her affection unto Aglatidas before, and of her anger against him now, that I believe she will never be able to make any great Conquests, though perhaps she will endeavour to repair her loss by hopes of some other victory. Amestris did hearken unto Menasta with some delight, because the anger of Anatisa, did evidently prove the fidelity of Aglatidas: for though she fully resolved never to see him again, yet she had a secret design in the root of her heart, to love him as long as she lived.  
Mean while, after Artemon was parted from Ottanus, and Ottanus had dispatched his business with those who came to speak with him, he was alone with his own thoughts, and calling all these passages into his memory, which before tormented him, he found his soul in a worse condition than before: and that which at the first, afforded him some minutes of tranquillity, was now a perpetual turbulence unto him. For (said he to himself, as he related afterwards) from whence should this sudden alteration in the humour of Amestris proceed? What may be her reason to leave hating me? why should she begin to hate all the world? which way should I find out the true cause of all this? After he had restlessly reasoned upon it, and that which Artemon told him, sticking in his stomach, he spoke unto Amestris at night, and conjured her, not to neglect herself so much, but to make some visits: yet as she refused it, though with much respect, so his mind became much exasperated; and he very roughly moved her to dress herself, and to walk abroad, and frequent Balls, and all other places, whither a jealous and angry Husband would have forbid his wife: Insomuch as she told him, that she would do all she could to obey him; and in order to that, she dressed herself the next morning more handsomely then ordinary, and went unto the Temple at the same time which other Ladies used, but yet it was with so much melancholy in her eyes, that she infused no joy into any of those friends which saw her: and as ill luck was, two or three persons having seen her so sad, and afterward meeting with Ottanus, told him, that they would ask no more why Amestris was so long unseen, since it appeared by her face she had been sick. But Ottanus, knowing that she had not been so, did conclude, that there was some secret matter in her mind which was the cause of it, and which he could not discover. Amestris yet was less solitary for three or four days, but with so much forcing of herself that she was not able to endure it any longer: for if she saw any friends of Aglatidas, her soul was in a very hell: if they were indifferent men she met with, they gave her some such touch concerning the pretended jealousy of Ottanus, as did not please her; or if they were any of the discreeter sort of people, they entertained her with discourses so opposite to her present humour, that they were extremely troublesome to her: if any complete man was commended, than the image of Aglatidas appeared in her fancy: if any was blamed, than the thoughts of Ottanus would direct her eyes: She thought all those that looked upon her, did blame her for marrying Ottanus: So having lived three or four days thus, and not being able to endure it longer, she feigned to be sick, that so she might not go abroad, nor receive any more visits. But since she could not deceive Ottanus so easily, as she could the world, who saw her not, his torments did double upon him; and not knowing what he would have, he endured all the pangs of a jealous man, and much more than common jealousy could infuse: for they who are jealous have at the least some ground for it, though he could not so much as imagine what the cause of his torments was: And not being able to contain all his turbulent cogitations within the compass of his own heart, he discovered all his secrets unto Artemon; who after he had observed the Raptures, the Reasons and Complaints of his Cousin, could not determine what his malady was: for said he unto him, It cannot be said you are jealous, since there is no imaginable reason for it; for Amestris neither sees nor will be seen by any: Amestris, when she was free, made choice of you, and married you, what would you have more? I would gladly know, said he, why upon a sudden she resolved to marry me; and why upon a sudden she will not look upon the world.  
I do confess, said Artemon, that the last of these is very strange unto me, since you assure me it is not long of you: yet however, it concerns us who have lost her, to complain of that, and not you, since you see her oftener, and discourse more freely with her. Not at all, replied Ottanus, for she persuades me to live as I was accustomed to do; and that I should allow of her alteration: I know very well that heretofore she did not hate Aglatidas, but there has been such jars between them since that, as I cannot conclude any thiug upon it. But why should you torment yourself, said Artemon, since your wife desires not to see Aglatidas more than any other, and indeed cannot see him, since he is absent. The reason why she lives thus (replied he, after a little study upon it) is perhaps because he is absent. And why did she marry you, replied Artemon, if she loved Aglatidas? That is it which I know not, said he, but gladly would know her reason for it. Aglatidas, replied Artemon, is indeed a very gallant man, but he is so inconstant, that I cannot think he ever had any share in the heart of Amestris: The pitiful Complaints which Anatisa makes against him, does sufficiently argue his inconstancy. How, said Ottanus, do Aglatidas and Anatisa jar? Yes, answered Artemon, and that extremely. Ah Artemon, said Ottanus, this which you have told me, does much more perplex me. I do not see any cause you have, replied Artemon; Aglatidas when you married Amestris, did love Anatisa, as every one thought; since than he has cast her off, and gone away, and what does all this concern you? I cannot untangle my thoughts, answered he, but I wish Aglatidas had continued yet in love with Anatisa. So would she too, answered Artemon and laughed, but since he is glad with a pretence to break with her, why should it offend Ottanus? Then having a mind to chide him after such a manner as should not make him angry; Well Ottanus, said he unto him, I pray resolve me, are you Jealous, or are you only Fantastical? I know not well what I am, replied he; but I am most certain my mind is most unquiet; and I find all symptoms of Jealousy in myself. Then this is the first time, answered Artemon, that ever a Wife made her Husband jealous, by neglecting herself, by never going abroad, nor seeing any body, and by hiding her beauty with as much care as others take to show it. Therefore I am the more to be pitied, replied Ottanus, for I see no remedy for my misery: If Amestris had a gadding mind of going unto Balls, and I disliked it, than I could hinder her from going any more; but as the disease is, I know not where to find a Remedy.  
If you will follow my advice, said Artemon unto him, you shall never seek for any, since certainly small diseases do commonly grow greater by remedies. My disease, replied he, is none of those which can be called small. Truly, said Artemon, I know not how you should term it a great one. Can a greater be imagined, replied Ottanus, then to see the same which should have been my chief felicity, become my greatest misery? But why are you not happy? replied Artemon, is not Amestris most fair? is she not richer than any of her quality? has she not as much wit as riches and beauty? and has she not much more Virtue than either wit, beauty, or riches, altogether? is she not affable and complacential unto you? what then would you have more? I would see, replied he, into the very bottom of her heart; and see if there be no secret there, which she has not already told. What, replied Artemon, what would you have her tell? I would have her tell me (replied Ottanus, half angry) a likely lie, rather than tell me nothing.  
Artemon seeing Oltanus begin to be angry, would incense him no further, lest he should deprive himself of means to be serviceable unto Amestris for the future: for though he was his Cous●●▪ yet it was his generosity which made him his friend, and which side to take, either hers or his was no Question, since Reason would not allow him to take the part of Oltanus. However, conceiving it requisite to hold some hand of complacency with him, he asked him whether he would have him sp●ak unto Amestris: but the commendations which Oltanus gave of her, would not permit Oltanus to give that Commission: for he was of such a humour, as he could not, without anger, hear his wife extolled, nor I think could he endure to hear any speak in her dispraise. Artemon, not being able to regulate his mind, went away, and left him to champ upon his own sullen, and melancholy humour; yet he was no sooner gone, but the mind of Oltanus altered; and as it is usual with unquiet and jealous spirits, he writ an entreating Letter unto him, desiring him to see Amestris the next day, and endeavour to discover the bottom of her soul: the Letter did contradict itself in two or three several places, and it was easily perceived, that the mind of him who writ it was not at rest. Artemon failed not to do as Oltanus desired him, who in the mean time had given orders, that they should let him enter, though Amestris said she was not well, and would see no body. When he came to her, he asked her pardon for interrupting her solitude; and really desiring to do her service, he did not keep the conference which he had with Oltanus, as a secret: but on the contrary, he truly told her the state of her husband's mind, to the end she might contrive some ways how to cure him, lest his restless disposition should reflect upon herself: Since Oltanus had rather you should tell a handsome lie, than tell nothing at all, I beseech you invent one, and such a one as may cause quietness, both to him, and yourself, if it be so that there be any secret truth in your heart, which you would not have him know. I am much obliged unto you, replied Amestris, for your expressions of sincerity towards me: yet generous Artemon I have nothing to tell him, which I have not already told him: my humour, it is true, is changed, but I cannot tell the reason of it; yet since in changing it is for the advantage of Oltanus, what does he complain of? Look for no reason of his complaints, replied Artemon, for he has none; though Madam, I am forced to confess your retiredness is very strange: and it is not strange that Oltanus should wonder at that which does astonish all the Court and Town: Yet since I am not so full of Curiosities as he, but being very full of real respects unto you, I will believe that all you do is well; nor do I desire to penetrate into the secrets of your heart. But in the name of the Gods, Madam, if you can tell Oltanus something which may satisfy him; and if it be possible, be not so devoted unto solitude. I am able but to do the one half of what you desire me, said she unto him, which is, to show myself unto the world a little more than I do: But as for inventing any lies, and telling them unto Oltanus, is a thing I cannot do: for I should tell them so scurvily that he would never believe me: yet Artemon, let me tell you, that in following your Counsel, I shall expose myself unto much misery, it being more the likely, that since Oltanus is jealous, and knows not of whom, and at a time when my Closet is my Prison, and when I see no body, he will be much more when I haunt company. Yet however, since it is the pleasure of the Gods, he should become my Husband, it is my duty to follow his will, and to force my own: you may assure him that I will be observant unto him in all things, and shall please him in this, so he will promise, that as soon as ever he reputes of his desire I should frequent the world, he will do me the favour to tell me of it; for I make no question but it will be very shortly: afterwards Artemon assured Amestris that he would be ready to serve her in all things, and he went to carry this news unto Oltanus; who was something better satisfied than before: but yet he was not fully contented, because she would not tell him her reason why she married him so suddenly, nor why she began to affect solitude as soon as married: yet finding so much obedience in the heart of Amestris, all his fantastical humours could not find out a reasonable pretence of complaint against her.  
Thus did Amestris, though with extreme repugnance, suffer herself to be seen again, and within four days, the noise being divulged about the Town, that she was visible, all the Court and Town came to visit her; and though she was much more melancholy than heretofore, yet since she could not choose but be very fair and sprightly, and sweet and civil, there was an universal joy throughout all Ecbatan, for finding an inestimable Jewel which was thought to be lost: There was not a Wit about the whole Court and Town, which had not invented some diversion for her & who were not very forward to testify some marks of that esteem they held of her: It might well be said, that some magnetic beauty was newly come to town, who by her secret charms attracted all about her: all other houses were deserts and solitary places in comparison of hers. Those who had any designs to please her, did not arrive at their desired ends; for she thought herself so miserable, in living continually a forced life, that she could not choose but complain of it unto her dear Menasta. Anatisa, amongst the rest, came to visit her with other Ladies, and as there is always in the world, a sort of indiscreet men, who take as much delight in talking of angry subjects, as others do in pleasing; there was a man amongst them, who having a mind to perplex these two Ladies, began to talk before them concerning Aglatidas, and his absence, ask aloud, whether any knew the cause? Amestris and Anatisa both began to blush; one out of anger, the other out of modesty: and since the question was addressed rather unto Amestris, than any else, she answered, that it was so long since Aglatidas went from Ecbatan, that she knew nothing of his designs, but perhaps (said she, and turned towards Anatisa) this fair one can better inform you; I cannot tell whether it was her cruelty to him which we must accuse for the loss of so gallant a man, since it is to be thought her rigour banished him, and drive him unto despair. Anatisa was so nettled at this crafty rallary of Amestris, that she answered in such a faint tone, as did apparently manifest, she knew her cruelty was not the cause of Aglatidas his absence. And since she was not ignorant, that all the world knew it was Aglatidas who quitted her; she made no secret of it; but looking upon Amestris, however, said she, you are obliged unto me for taking the heart of Aglatidas from you, since he was so unconstant as to break off your chains, and enter into mine. But, replied Amestris, since it is always the good intention, which sets the value upon any good office, I beseech you● pardon me, if I do not thank you for it, since I know you had not any such complacential humour towards me in doing it. I do confess, said Anatisa, I did not intend to oblige you by it: confess also, replied Amestris, that you have no cause to vaunt of a conquest which you kept so short a time: however, since Aglatidas, perhaps cares neither for you nor me, I think we have done him a great deal of favour to speak so long concerning him: Amestris spoke this after such a manner as did much surprise Anatisa, who thought that she was a little too tart against Aglatidas, considering how she had lived with him heretofore: and she could not think that Oltanus, could recompense such a loss, and so she went home with an unquiet mind. This was the course of life which Amestris led for a while: but shortly after Oltanus seeing such a great concourse of visitants, and observing there was many which addressed themselves unto him much more complacentially then usual; he conceived their extraordinary care, and compliments to please and divert him, was done unto him rather as the husband of Amestris, then out of any affection to himself, so that his perplexities of mind were higher than ever: he did not intend to signify as much openly, yet do what he would, it was presently perceived: he received the civilities done unto him after a constrained manner; & made but hollow returns, & contrary to his custom, he kept home so-constantly; that in a few days his jealousy was known unto all the world, and more notice taken of it, then when Amestris would not be seen: for than they did but suspect him to be jealous, but now they made no question of it: his looks, his words, his actions, and all his restless agitations were apparent and convincing proofs of the secret turbulencyes of his heart: and since commonly domestic servants are the spies which reveal the secrets of their Masters unto all the world; it was known by the servants of Oltanus, that never any came unto his house, but he asked his Porter, who came to inquire for his wife? whether they were there then? whether he came alone? how long he stayed? and a hundred such questions, which caused more rumours of his jealousy then ever: he began to show some signs of his anguish to Amestris, who made her complaints of it unto Artemon, who always did very much esteem her, desiring him to know of Oltanus what it was which troubled his mind, assuring him, that if his mind did alter, an● that he did not think it good, she should frequent the world any longer, she would obey him, and retire again with abundance of joy: Artemon did promise her to know what the matter was: but since he could not give his consent or advice, Amestris should be mewed up again, he would take another way: and remembering that Oltanus to prevent all reports of his jealousy, resolved to permit his wife to entertain all the Gallants of Ecbatan; he thought that by telling him again how his way of behaviour had exposed him to the same misfortune, he would correct himself the second time. But yet it did not; for as soon as Artemon told him that his daily keeping home with his wife; his extraordinary curiosity to know what every one said of him; and who came to see her when he was abroad; such things as these had got him the same reputation he had before, when Amestris did not expose herself unto the world: since it is so (said he unto him, in a very angry tone) that whether Amestris frequent company or not, I must be looked upon as a jealous man, my best course is to rid my house of all company, since it is continually stuffed with a number of idle and flattering fellows, who spend their time in telling tales, and talking nothing but vanity. Artemon, was so surprised to hear Oltanus say so, that two contrary thoughts came into phansis almost at one time: for he could hardly forbear laughing at the fantastical humour of Oltanus, and yet he could not choose but be extremely sorry, to see what perscution was towards Amestris, he used all his Rhetoric to bring the heart of Oltanus unto reason, but could not. For deferring it no longer than the very same night, Madam, said Oltanus unto Amestris, I am well pleased with your complacency in quieting your solitude at my request: but since I find you have passed from one extreme unto another, and since you did but force yourself to frequent Company, I shall take it kindly if you follow your own inclination, and retire yourself from all Company again: Sir (said she unto him with much joy in her face) you do a very notable favour in releasing me from that trouble which I put myself unto, by obeying you before: But Sir, that it may be carried more handsomely, I conceive it would do very well, to make a journey into the Country, to the end that at my return, I may assume my solitude under a pretence of not being accustomed unto the Country. Oltanus wondered that Amestris should so willingly deprive herself of all the good company, and gallantry which she saw; and in lieu of being well satisfied, with it, he grew more reserved, and unquiet, in so much as he thought of changing his mind again; yet notwithstanding he took her at her word, and within two days after they went into the Country, Amestris carrying her dear Menasta with her, to comfort her in all her sorrows: Artemon hearing of Oltanus his design, came to him with intentions to divert him, but he could not possibly; and about two days after Amestris, not bidding adieu unto any, went into the Country, with intention if she could not return of a long time, as well, that she might more conveniently enjoy her solitude, as also the better to hide, if she could, the fantastical humours of her husband. She went with some kind of joy; but as for Oltanus, change of air did not change his humour: for although he saw Amestris was not only as complacential as any virtuous wife ought to be unto her husband, but also was as obedient unto him as any slave could be, (though she could not be so tender of him as if she had esteemed and loved him) yet he was not satisfied with her, and all her respects of him did rather incense than please him. It was therefore but a melancholy voyage which they made; yet when they were come unto the end of their journey, and settled, Amestris was at a little more rest, for Oltanus did pass away many of his melancholy hours by walking in a great wood behind the house, so that she had more freedom to talk with her dear Menasta, and discourse often concerning Aglatidas: she did at the first make some scruple of it, and resolved never to speak more of him as long as she lived; but considering that her affection to him was innocent, and ever should be, since she resolved never to see him again, she thought to preserve the testimonies of his affection in her memory, which indeed she could not possibly forget; but notwithstanding all her tenderness towards Aglatidas, she determined to burn all those Letters of his which she had in keeping. Menasta and she discoursing one day upon this subject, and being willing to give them their last survey before she committed them unto the flame, she opened her closet to take them out, but could not find a little Cabinet in which they were: she was so much surprised at it, that she was not able to speak unto Menasta: in the mean while she searched all about her Closet, & all in vain: then she asked one of her servants, who was ever very faithful, whether Oltanus did at any time come there? & was answered no; afterwards she asked her if she knew what became of the Cabinet, which she thought she had put up when she came from Ecbatan? & she answered, that she saw it upon the table of her closet at Ecbat▪ but known no further what she had done with it. Amest. then recalling into her memory all that she did before her coming away remembered how she intended to put it up, & Oltanus coming in, she covered it with her hood upon the table, resolving to pack it up when he was gone, and so she concluded, that she left it there upon the table. But after Amestris had considered that Oltanus was with her, and her women had the keys of her Closet, she was in less fear: yet at night Oltanus told her that he must return unto Ecbata upon some important business; at which she blushed and looked upon Menasta. I see (said this jealous husband in mocking kind of rallari●) that you envy my well-being. Pardon me Sir, said she unto him, but indeed I had much rather you remained here then go unto Ecbatan: however it be, answered he, I perceive that my journey is not indifferent unto you: but your blushes imply either sorrow or joy at it. Certainly the reason of it is (said Menasta and laughed, to the end she might break off this discourse) because she imagines that you will have her return with you. and because she is sorry to leave a place so soon which pleaseth her. Oltanus did not reply unto this, farther than some muttering words which were not understood, but did go away to Ecbatan very sad: for though he left his wife in a very solitary place, yet was he very unquiet in his mind, and could not for his heart interpret the blush of Amestris, nor why she should look so upon Menasta, who, from that time, he suspected, though he knew not for what. In the mean time, Amestris was not a little troubled that Oltanus should go unto that place where those things were, which he feared he would come unto the sight of: she knew not what to resolve upon; for since all the domestic servants were so many spies upon her actions, she durst not attempt to suborn one of them, and trust him with the keys of her Closet, to take out that little Cabinet which so much troubled her: nor could she imagine whether Oltanus would break it open, therefore she resolved to put it to the hazard. Menasta was persuading her to move her husband, that he would desire him to carry her with him; but Oltanus prevented her, and said that his business was so urgent and hasty, that he could not go in Coach; so that he went himself, and left Amestris exceedingly troubled; and certainly not without cause; for as soon as Oltanus came home, he had a fancy to make a strict search in the Chamber of Amestris: The housekeeper opened all the doors but only of that Closet, of which he said he had not the key. Then Oltanus, pretending to take something out which he would keep for Amestris, he broke open the door, and went in only with a servant of his, called Dinocrates, whom he trusted with all his secrets: he searched in all the drawers and boxes in the Closet, he lifted up all the hangings, and looked in every corner: he was ready to go out again very well satisfied that he found not what he sought for; but Dinocrates lifting up the hood upon the table, he found this little Cabinet, in which were the Letters of Aglatidas. Dinocrates' cried out as if he had found some great Treasure, and Oltanus coming towards him with a panting heart, took it, and opened it with all haste and violence: But oh Heavens! when he saw the Letters and the names of Amestris and Aglatidas upon them, he was in such a fury at it, that it was a whole hour before he read them: yet at last he began, but was so much transported, that he knew not what he read: he sent immediately unto Artemon, who coming presently unto him, see, said he, whether I have not reason to be troubled! then he told him how he broke open the Closet, and how he found the Letters, and gave him one of the Letters which he had found: Artemon perceiving it was writ whilst Artambares the Father of Amestris lived, and when it was thought Aglatidas should have married her, told him, that he could not find any fault at all in Amestris for this: How (replied Oltanus) do you think her innocent in keeping Letters of gallantry and courtship, after she was married? No no, Artemon, said he, she cannot excuse it, for she that would keep the Letters of Aglatidas, would doubtless keep the affection of her heart for him also. Then he showed him that Letter which Aglatidas writ at his departure: here, said he, is it which speaks me the most unhappy in the world: I do but too well see the cause of Amestris her being so reserved. Artemon perceiving that the Letter was writ since the marriage of Oltanus, and that consequently there must needs be a correspondency between them, was silent a long while, and could not speak a word; mean while, Oltanus talked faster than a man that was not jealous could think in a whole day. But at last, Artemon stopping the fury of his frivolous language; Is this all the Crime of Amestris (said he unto him?) if it be, you are not so unhappy as you talk of; for I cannot find by any circumstance in the Letter, but that since Aglatidas prepares himself to be miserable, it is Amestris which hath banished him: Moreover do you not see that none knows the cause of his departure? therefore I must needs think the virtue of Amestris to merit much commendation: I can conceive no such thing, Replied he, for it was the duty of Amestris to refuse all manner of Love-Letters, since she was my wife, much less ought she to keep them. Artemon used all his arguments to excuse Amestris, but all would not appease Oltanus, who without any thoughts of his business, which brought him to the Town, returned into the Country the very next morning; however, Artemon would not leave him but whether he would or no went with him. In the mean while Amestris, was full of Fears, and when she saw him, returned so unexpectedly before it was possible he could dispatch the business he went about, her heart drooped, & wanted but a little of falling into a sound. As soon as Oltanus lighted from his Horse, though Artemon would have hindered him, yet he went straight unto the Chamber of Amestris, and coming to him in a most uncivil fury, Madam said he unto her, you are beholding to me for bringing you so quickly, that which doubtless you forget, and left at Ecbatan; and in saying so, he threw upon the Table all the Letters of Aglatidas, I leave you to imagine what operation the sight of these had upon the heart of Amestris: yet since she knew herself not so culpable as Oltanus thought her, she recollected her Constancy, and without any great dauntednesse, Sir, said she unto him since you know it was my Father's Command upon me, to look upon Aglatidas, as one who should afterwards be my husband, me thinks you should not think it strange that I should receive Letters from him: but the last of these Letters, replied he, admits not of that excuse: so that though you were not faulty in receiving the first, yet it was an unanswerable Crime to keep them any longer, or to receive the last. I do confess, said she, that I was not so prudent as I might have been, in not burning them, when I resolved to marry you; but truly the Crime is not so great as you apprehend it; and as for this last Letter received, since, indeed it was impossible for me not to receive it, yet I can assure you that I did never return any answer unto it, and that it was not in my power to send it back unto Aglatidas: However, replied he, it seems he is much in your favour. Sir, said she unto him, give me leave to tell you only two things for the satisfaction of your mind: The one is, that I shall never see Aglatidas again: And the other, that I will never receive any more Letters from him, nor shall he from me. It seems to me (said Artemon, who was present at this angry conference) that Amestris does offer more than is reason; for knowing her virtue as you may do, although she should see a man who was in love with her; yet there is no necessity you should be troubled at it. But how can I be assured (said Oltanus to Amestris, not harkening unto Artemon) of this which you tell me? Sir, answered she, you may leave me here, and not let me go to Ecbatan, where Aglatidas, perhaps, may hereafter be. Solitude (replied he, and shaken his head) is very fit for secret meetings. Then carry me to the town (answered she) that all the world may eye my actions, & all the world may know (replied he all in fury) your crime and my misfortune. But, who was it which brought you this last Letter? one who was (unknown to me answered she, having no mind to bring the name of Menasta in question) where is Aglatidas at this present, asked Oltanus? I know not, replied she, for I hold no intelligence with him, nor inquire of his being. And why, said he unto her, did you marry me, since you loved Aglatidas? I thought (answered Amestris) that my preferring you before all others, would have obliged you not to use me as you do: I thought, said he, that though you did not love me, yet you would have loved your own honour, and done nothing unworthy of yourself. Truly, said Artemon, me thinks all these promises, which Amestris, hath made should satisfy you: she saith she will never see Aglatidas again; she will never receive any Letters from him, nor shall he from her, and what would you more? I would have had her not to have received this last Letter, replied he, nor have kept any of the rest, for they are certain testimonies, she is no hater of Aglatidas, nor ever will be a lover of me, and by consequence I must be always in fear. Sir, replied Amestris, I beseech you know this, that though I were an inveterate hater of you, and did love Aglatidas as well as I do myself, yet would I never speak to him again, and the more tender I were of him, the more circumspect would I be to avoid meeting with him, therefore if it be possible, let your mind be at rest concerning that matter, and leave me here. It is not an easy matter, replied he, for that man whom you have made for ever miserable, to leave you here, what then would you have her do? said Artemon; I know not, replied he sharply, but until I be better resolved, I do intend that Menasta, who is Cousin to Aglatidas, and doubtless his Confident, shall presently return to Ecbatan, and that Amestris see her no more. Sir, said she, I beseech you do not wrong a Lady of her Quality and Nature so much; augment, if it be possible your force against me, but be not uncivil towards her, yet if it be your pleasure that I must see her no more, let her return to Ecbatan, some few days hence upon another pretence: I do understand you very well, said he unto her, you have a mind before you part with her, to consult and agree which way you may receive some intelligence from Aglatidas. Sir, replied she, if Aglatidas and I were upon any terms of intelligence 'twixt each other, why should he be at such a remote distance from hence? I can say nothing to you, replied he angrily, but that you will drive me out of my Reason, and my Life. Artemon seeing that all Amestris could say, did rather exasperate than appease him, did get him out of her Chamber almost by force, yet being prompt unto it by his Jealous thoughts, he would not leave the Letters of Aglatidas with her; neither would he burn them, thinking that whilst he kept them in his hands, he should keep her better within compass of her duty; he took them up then, and kept them as carefully as the dearest thing in the world, and looking upon Amestris with insufferable insolency; I hope you will permit me Madam, said he unto her, to keep them now as well as you have done: I permit it with all patience, said she, for there is no misery which my mind is not prepared for. After he was gone out from Amestris, he would by all means go unto Menasta, who was not well that day, and kept her Chamber, but Artemon dissuaded him, and used such Arguments, as moved him that Menasta should not return so suddenly, but could not persuade to let her stay long with Amestris: yet do what Artemon could, he would needs change all her women, and every Servant which waited on her. It was as much as Artemon could do, to keep Oltanus from using Amestris ill, or from taking up some odd desperate resolution. Yet was he much puzzled in making the choice of a place to dwell in: for though he thought the Country a more convenient place then any other to observe the actions of Amestris: yet since his occasions would often call him from thence, he thought that Aglatidas might see him in his absence more easily, and perhaps carry her away, for his foresight was always very ingenuous to torment himself. Moreover he was persuaded, and that with good reason, that Amestris seemed fair in the eyes of all that looked upon her, so that he was not only in fear of Aglatidas, but his nearest kindred; and his very best friends were not privileged from his Jealousy; Artemon himself scaped not: and if he put any difference between him and others, it was in his expressions of less Bitterness, and Artemons suffering with more Patience, and less Malice than others who delighted in persecuting him. But the time came, that Menasta must return to Ecbatan, and that Artemon accompanied her; the parting of these two friends, was the sadder, because they could not confer in private together about one short quarter of an hour, though Artemon did all he could to procure them that Consolation: This generous friend at his departure from Oltanus, made him promise not to speak any more unto Amestris concerning Aglatidas, and that he would live better with her, otherwise himself in particular would complain of him. Moreover, since he conceived that Amestris would far better at Ecbatan, though she saw no body then in the Country, where she should see her angry husband continually, he addressed his discourse so handsomely unto him, that by his justifying Amestris so much, he gave him some subject of fear that Aglatidas would not so soon make any attempts of seeing her in the Town, as in the Country; Not that I suspect, said he unto him, that Amestris would ever contribute any thing unto it, but yet you know that Aglatidas did most passionately love her, and does not yet hate her: so that seeing you more happy than himself, questionless he will s●eke out ways to make his sufferings known unto Amestris, therefore if you will hearken unto me, carry her back to Ecbatan. Oltanus at the first, did think this proposition reasonable, but immediately after he disapproved of it, and Artemon departed with Menasta, not knowing whether Oltanus would live in the Country always, or return to the Town, and indeed Oltanus himself was unresolved what to do. Mean time, the unexpected sudden return of Menasta made a great noise, and the Household servants divulging the cause of it, the Jealousy of Oltanus made a fresh rumour in the world: Moreover, Anatisa, having a servant who was Sister unto Denocrates, the Page and confident of Oltanus, she came to know by her means, that the Letters of Aglatidas were found in the Closet of Amestris; so that Anatisa entering into a new fury against her, vented a hundred malicious tales, which in conclusion turned against herself, for she spoke with such Animosity, that though she spoke some truths, yet whensoever she spoke against Amestris, she was no more believed than if they had beeneall Lies. Mean while Oltanus was very busy in guarding all the Advenues of his house: If he chanced to spy a Peasant in the woods, he presently imagined him to be Aglatidas disguised: If he saw any of the Servants of Amestris talk with any that he knew not, he would know their business, and what they said, and suspected they brought some Letters from Aglatidas to their Mistress: to the end she should not corrupt any of her women by any gifts, he took an exact Catalogue of all her Jewels, and kept it himself, often viewing them to see whether they were all there. He searched every cranny, where he could imagine she could hide any Letters; and it might very well be said, that notwithstanding all her Persecutions, yet he made himself more miserable than her; he looked upon her with eyes so full of tormenting Jealousy, that she might clearly see the restlessness of his Soul: In the mean time, he was forced to return to Ecbatan, upon some urgent occasions, and carried her with him, not daring to leave her alone in that place. For though he did not know where Aglatidas was, yet he suspected him to be lurking in some place near hand, watching for an opportunity to visit her, when he did at any time go from her. At her return to the Town, he limited her unto such persons, as he allowed her to see there: and principally charged her not to admit of any such as made Gallantry, their Profession, who Coached away their time from Street to Street, from Company to Company, only to talk the same things over and over again: Amestris with unequalled patience did, without murmur, as he desired, and did not see so much as Menasta, but in private, by the means of Artemon. But since it was the delight and desire of all reasonable men to see her, do what she could, they sought her out in the Temples; they followed her in the Streets, and found her sometimes in the houses of three or four whom she was permitted to visit. Now as there was ever a sort of men who loved to delight themselves, without any regard of prejudicing others; so there was one man among the rest called Tharpis, who to punish Oltanus for his jealousy, did augment it as much as he could: So that Amestris never went out, but he had Spies to watch whither she went, that he might follow. As often as Oltanus went out or came in, he always observed some of Tharpis his officers, keeping watch at the corner of a Street next his house, so that he became as Jealous of Tharpis as of Aglatidas, and to say truly, he was Jealous of all the world as well as of him. When Amestris was not well, it was always said at the door of her Lodging, she was so extremely ill, that none could be admitted to see her, and when Oltanus was ill, he also was said to be so ill, that Amestris could not leave him; so that when either of them was the least out of temper, it was carried so, as if they were at the last gasp: if any one spoke unto Amestris in a low voice, he would afterwards ask them both severally what they said, and that in such an odd manner, as it was impossible to forbear laughing. This was the life of Amestris, until the death of Astyages, who as you know, died partly of sorrow for the taking away of the Princess Mandana. Which in a few days after Ciaxanes was come to Ecbatan, to take possession of the Medean Crown, and the Court would be very full: Oltanus imagining that Aglatidas might perhaps return to see the new King, he carried Amestris into the Country, though it had been more fit for him to return to the Town if he had been there: But as his resolutions were commonly contrary to all reason or handsomeness, so he went out of Ecbatan when all the world came in: therefore when you Sir came thither with Ciaxares, she was not there, but as soon as you were gone to the Armenian War, he then returned with her, though with no intentions to use her any better, but lived after the same manner I have told you, until such time as it was known that Aglatidas was in the Army, and gracious both with you and Ciaxares: This news begot two contrary apprehensions in him: for he was glad to hear Aglatidas was so far from Ecbatan, but very ill pleased with the honours which the King and you were pleased to confer upon him; in so much as though every Letter, which came from the Army, spoke in high commendations of his valour, yet Amestris durst not so much inquire of any news in general, nor of the war, because he would be apt to imagine her end was to hear Aglatidas spoke of. But after the Governor of the Province of Aresantines was dead, he was very desirous to employ all his friends, to obtain of Ciaxares the Government thereof for himself, because all the estate of Amestris, which was very great, did lie in that Province: yet since he knew nothing could be obtained from Ciaxares, but by your mediation, he would not make any address unto any who were Loved, or Lovers of Aglatidas: Also, since he had neglected that duty which a man of his Quality ought unto Ciaxares, at his entrance to the Crown, and since his Jealousy kept him from following the War, as his birth obliged him, so he had not confidence enough to ask this favour, and much less hopes to obtain it, though he should ask it: But a while after he received a Packet, which was no small amazement to him, for he found in it that you had sent him the government of that Province from Ciaxares. At the first he was extremely joyed, and though he knew not from whence this good should proceed, nor could guess at the truth, yet he imagined it to come from the King's disposition only: so that he published it with joy, declaring that this honour was conferred upon him, though he employed none, nor made any intercession for it: All the Town, upon this, did make their complemental addresses to him: and he permitted Amestris to entertain all those who would visit her. But within three days after this first news of joy, he received others which were as vexatious as the other was pleasing: for an old Officer in the household of Ciaxares, who was of his acquaintance, sent unto him and told him he conceived it expedient he should return some thanks unto Aglatidas for the honour which he had received from him, since it was only by his meditation he obtained it, intimating afterwards, your zeal Sir, in his behalf, at the request of Aglatidas. When Oltanus received this Letter, he was in the chamber of Amestris, in which was much company; and because it was known that it came from the Army, every one did draw near at the reading of it, to hear some news, and he was contented to satisfy them: But in his reading what I have told you, he changed colour about twenty times, and every one thought that either Ciaxares was dead, or else the government newly conferred upon was taken away again. Every one asked him what ill news? for they imagined by his looks it could not be any good: but his answer was, that he had received an account of some private business which did not please him well, and indeed it was easily perceived, for so much discontent appeared in his eyes, that Amestris, who knew him very well, did imagine something besides his jealousy, was a cause of his disorder, yet she could not guests what it was, but thought that perhaps some had sent him intelligence Aglatidas would ere long return to Ecbatan: however, he made such a visible testimony of his discontent to all the company, that Amestris withdrew: some came unto him, who had not yet made their complemental addresses unto him, as Governor; but he received them so scurvily, that they conceived themselves injured; and had he not been known to be a jealous man, and by consequence fantastical, those men considering his extravagant behaviour towards them, had quarrelled with him: but they made a short visit, and left him to the liberty of his halfe-mad humours: As good luck was, Artemon came in before he spoke with Amestris, after the company was gone out: if he had not, perhaps he would have used extreme violence towards her.  
As soon as Ottanus saw Artemon, here (said he unto him and gave him the letter which he had received) see whether I had not reason to believe that Aglatidas and Amestris have been always very kind one to another: Artemon took the Letter and read it, but finding not a word in it conduced to what Ottanus talked of, nor any thing else but that Aglatidas had obtained for him the Government of Arisontine Province, which he so much desired▪ how is it possible, said he unto him, that your reason and mine should be so opposite? Why, answered Ottanus, is it not as clear as day that Amestris hath written secretly unto Aglatidas, that I desired this Government, and that it would be an excellent expedient to reconcile me unto him, and would be a means to let me permit him the sight of her if he obtained it? No such thing, answered Artemon, but I am confident of the contrary, that a Crown were not able to induce Amestris to permit Aglatidas the sight of her, or a visit unto you, and consequently I must conclude that Amestris had no hand in it, and that Aglatidas did it out of pure generosity, because he hates you not, as you do him. You are so much devoted to excuse Amestris, said be very angrylie, that I believe there are few crimes which you would not absolve her of if she should commit them: It is very true replied Artemon, that I am strongly persuaded of her virtue, and most true also, that to punish one for thoughts which he had in the bottom of a heart, were to entrench too much upon the privilege of the gods, for they only can truly know them. However it be, said Ottanus, I will never accept of any thing as a gift from a man whom I would pistol. How, said Artemon, being much amazed, will you refuse the Government which you accepted of, and after you have received the compliments and congratulations of all the Town who came to rejoice with you? Yes, said he, I will refuse it, and render thanks unto the gods, that I need not write any letters of thanks unto Clarans for his fine honour conferred upon me: But what can you say unto those who came to see you, replied Artemon, if any do meet me, said he, and urge me for any reasons of my actions, I will tell them I cannot endure Amestris should love Aglatidas, and that I am more generous then to receive a benefit from my enemy, or that he should triumph over the heart of Amestris, which should be only mine; yet are you not afraid to offend Cyaxares and Cyrus by it (said Artemon.) No answered he, I fear nothing so much as to be obliged by Aglatidas; but why do I term it obliged? I may rather say wronged, for what greater injury could he do me then this? Had he written unto Amestris and sent her any Jewels, or had she answered him and returned her Picture, few than would have known it: But by this it is divulged throughout a whole kingdom, that Aglatidas in lieu of ask a Government for himself, did ask it for a man who hates him, and hath married her he loved and still loves: he might as well tell all the world, that by this he doth recompense the husband for the favours which he hath received from the wife; but I shall take such orders as they shall not accuse me of preferring any ambitious thoughts before my honour. Believe me, said Artemon, you run a greater hazard of your honour by refusing then by accepting of this Government: However it be, said he in extreme fury, I had rather lose my honour, then receive any benefit from Aglatidas. When the benefits of an enemy, answered Artemon, may prejudice us, it is prudence to refuse them, and it is more generous to oblige an enemy, then to be obliged; but since this benefit which Aglatidas confers upon you is not of that nature, and since you cannot refuse it from the hand of a King, without ruin to yourself, and moving all the world to mock you, I conceive you ought not to yield unto your passion but to overcome it. Pardon me Otanus for using such freedom of speech, the extravagancy of your reason moves me think I am obliged unto it: were it not that I see you are not Jealous of Aglatidas (replied Ottanus with a forced smile) I should think you in love with Amestris. Though you should think so, replied Artemon, I should not so much wonder at it, as I do at your actions; And I do confess, that I cannot understand your design in it. I would let all Medea know, said Ottanus, that I will not contribute any thing unto the folly of Amestris. Ah Ottanus, said Artemon, Let it be least of your 〈◊〉 that any should suspect any such thing; you have taken such strict order for that, as it can never be imputed to you. I will take a stricter order than yet I have done, replied he: Which you can hardly do, answered Artemon. You shall see that e●re long, replied Ottanus; and shall confess, that my honour is more deer unto me then any thing else. Artemon, fearing he had some secret ill design against Amestris urged him no further, but felt him, because it was very late.  
He was no sooner gone, but Otanus went unto Amestris, and vented as many expressions as fury, jealousy, and anger could invent, she returning not one sharp reply, or knowing the cause of his choler: for since he was fully persuaded she knew Aglatidas had obtained the government for him, he expressed himself in such obscure enigma●s that she could not understand either his injuries or his reproaches. After he had fretted and fumed away almost all the night in persecuting Amestris, he went out of her chamber unto his own, and would permit none to follow him but Dinocrates, whose unworthy flattery did best suit with his inclination. He was no sooner in his chamber, but he sent orders to have his horses ready by break of day; and after he had passed over the remainder of the night in most unconceivable turbulency of mind, as soon as it was day he took horse, without any taking leave of Amestris, and went into the Country, to avoid the concourse of company, not knowing what to say: But he was fully resolved, rather to choose any death, then to accept of any thing Aglatidas should obtain for him.  
However, the absence of Ottanus gave a little more liberty unto Amestris; for her Spies were not so strict in their office, but she had the comfort to see Menasta; and she saw Artemon also, who acquainted her with the cause of her husband's fury. But when she was alone with her deer Menasta, she did confess unto her, That though the jealousy and chollerique humour of Otanus did trouble her very much; and though she was vexed to the heart at the fantastical resolution of her husband, in refusing that Government, which all the world knows he so much desired; Yet she had some delight to think that Aglatidas should still love her so well, as in consideration of her, to confer that good Office upon Otanus, whom he always hated. For my part, said Menasta, I cannot choose but admire the various events which are caused by one and the same passion; for the love of Aglatidas to you, moveth Ottanus not to love you; and the love of Ottanus to you, makes him not endure Aglatidas should do any thing for him. Ah Menasta, said Amestris, Those thoughts which Ottanus hath of me, cannot be phrazed Love: and I do conceive, that they who say Love and Jealousy are inseparable, are much deceived; I do believe them to follow one another, but I cannot think them to reign both together at one time in one heart. However Monasta, said she, do you not admire at my misfortune; for doubtless Aglatidas thinks he hath much obliged me by it; and I believe imagines that Ottanus, being well satisfied by it, will be less rigorous to me: but, quite contrary, he doubles his persecution upon me. Can any be more innocent than I am? You know Menasta, that since the Letter I received by you, and to which I returned no answer, I have refused many others: And if at any time Aglatidas came into my memory, it was against my will, in my discourse with you, and yet they say the Gods will punish me for some great Crime. You are not so innocent as you think yourself replied Menasta, for why did you ever marry Ottanus? was it just in you, to employ that great wit which the Gods had endued you withal, in devising such an odd way to punish Aglatidas, and justify yourself in his opinion? Oh do not speak of what is past, answered she, and sighed; let us think only upon the present and the future. I do foresee so many disasters towards you, replied Menasta, that you must pardon me, if I rather speak of what is past, then of what is present or what will be hereafter; for I do profess unto you, that I cannot at all conceive, either what Ottanus will do or what you will do. For my particular, said Amestris, I know no other resolution, but to refer myself wholly unto the guidance of the Gods, to submit, without the least murmur, unto their Will, and to prepare myself for a perpetual persecution: For, to attempt the driving of jealousy out of Ottanus his heart, is mere folly so to think of it, since what I have done will not do it.  
These were the words and thoughts of Amestris, whilst all the Town was troubled at the sudden departure of Ottanus, and sought out for the reason, but could not find it: But a few days after the thing was but too much divulged; for as the news of his being Governor of the Arasantins' Province did fly into the Country as soon as it came to Town; many Deputies of great Towns came unto him; who, understanding that he was gone into the Country, went after him, but he would not receive them, telling them, he did not accept of that office which was put upon him. Several persons of quality in the same Province writ also unto him, but he would return no answer: So that these Deputies, wondering at it, went back to Ecbatane and complained of their usage, ask the cause, but none could tell them; yet notwithstanding, presently after it was divulged: For Dinocrates acquainting Anatisa with it, she told it all over the Town, adding many things more than truth to make it thought Amestris was not so innocent as reported; yet say or do what she could, she was not believed. However, Ottanus, who hitherto passed only for a fantastical jealous man, began now to be looked upon as a man absolutely out of his wits and deprived of reason; and if they had been permitted to have seen Amestris every one would have grieved for her, and advised her to forsake Ottanus; but those unto whom he had committed the keeping of his house, would not suffer any whosoever to enter into it; not only because he so commanded them, but also because Amestris desired it, contenting herself with the liberty of enjoying Menasta, and seeing sometimes Artemon, the first of which, entering in at a back Garden door, was not discovered by any. As for Ottanus, he was in a most unemaginable perplexity; for notwithstanding his jealousy and fury, he did imagine, that what he did would seem very strange in the opinion of the world, and that he could no way justify himself, but by belching out lies against Amestris; he was not able to endure his solitude, nor was he able to resolve upon a return to Ecbatane, since he knew not what to say unto those who came to rejoice with him, and whose compliments he had received: He was perplexed on all sides; but amongst his variety of different thoughts, the image of Aglatidas went never out of his mind; and when he imagined that Amestris, thought herself obliged unto him for what he had done, he was absolutely mad, or at the least seemed so unto Artemon who came to see him, in hopes to persuade him unto reason.  
In the mean while Tharpis, who thought it a piece of Justice to torment that man, who did unjustly torment the fairest woman upon earth, did seem as if he had received a Letter from the Army, which did intimate that Ciaxares and you were so incensed against Ottanus, for refusing the Government which they had conferred upon him, that it would be a piece of great difficulty for him, ever to reconcile himself. Then, as it is the quality of ill news always to spread sooner abroad, all the Town in twenty four hours was filled with it; and reports went, That it was confirmed by four or five other Letters, though none at all came: So that Ottanus was presently advertized of it by his Spies which he had in the Town. These reports did so much augment his misery, that he was not master of himself. For since then your condition Sir was known unto all Ecbatan, the favour which Aglatidas had with you, was most terrible unto him, and doubled all his sorrows. At the same time it was certainly known, that the Affairs in Armenia were discomposed, and that Ciaxares would draw the war into that Country: So that Ottanus, being moved unto it by apprehensions of rage, despair, revenge and jealousy, altogether, he resolved to cast himself into the King of Armenia's Party, though he apparenly saw it would be the ruin of himself and loss of his estate, flattering himself with hopes of some occasion to meet with Aglatidas, knowing he would be in that war, and he would seek him out, though in places fullest of danger.  
This design being resolved upon, without communicating it unto any, he sent for Amestris, who, contrary to the advice of Menasta, obeyed him. Artemon, who was returned to Ecbatan, hearing of it, would not let her go alone, but accompanied her whether she would or no: When they drew near the place unto which they were to go, they espied Dinocrates on horseback under a Tree, who as soon as he saw them coming galloped with all speed towards the Castle where his master was. This passage did much surprise Amestris and Artemon, who could not devise the meaning of it: But they were much more astonished, when being come into the Castle, they understood, that as soon as Dinocrates advertized Ottanus of their coming, he took horse with three or four of his servants, and went out at a back door, leaving a Letter with the Captain of the Castle to give unto Amestris: He had no sooner declared it, but she opened it, and found these words:  
OTANUS to the unworthy AMESTRIS.  
I Go from hence to hide that shame which you have brought upon me, and in order to that I go amongst men, who know neither you nor me: But the principal reason of my voyage is to kill Aglatidas, if I can meet with him, as I hope I shall: If I hear you receive the news of his death without any tears, I shall return, and perhaps pardon you for loving that man whilst he lived, whose death should be indifferent unto you; in the mean time keep within this Castle; obey him who commands it in my absence, unless you have a mind I should return to punish you for all those evils you have brought upon me  
OTANUS.  
Imagine Sir, how this letter grieved Amestris; who showing it unto Artemon, conjured him to follow after him; and notwithstanding all the distwasion of the Captain, he did so: But whether Ottanus made too much haste to be overtaken, or whether Artemon took a wrong road, so it was he could not meet with him, but returned to Amestris, whom he found in a deluge of tears: She was not well persuaded whether or no Ottanus was gone, or if he were, whether he was gone to kill Aglatidas, as his Letter expressed; or else whether he was only hid, to see how she would behave herself during his pretended absence: But however, she collected by the beginning of his Letter, that he was not gone into the Army of Ciaxares, since there he would be known: After much debate upon the matter, they hit upon the truth, and Artemon believed he was gone into Armenia and was amongst the King's enemies. However, Amestris told him, that obedience unto her husband was her duty, and therefore she desired him to return back: Artemon used all his arguments to persuade her, that he might carry her back again to Ecbatan: But as she had no mind unto it, so indeed she could not if she would: for he whom Otanus had left commander in the Castle was an obstinate and resolved man, and would not have permitted her: Yet the sweet disposition of Amestris did obtain this singular favour from him, that Menasta might come and see her. Thus was Amestris, after Artemons' departure, in a most terrible solitude, especially because she knew no limits of time when it would end. Her friends and Kindred did divers times offer to take her away in spite of him that kept the Castle if she would consent unto it, but she never would; not so much, I think, out of her obedience unto Ottanus, which truly was without a parallel, as out of her own disposition to avoid company, which she would not endure without constraint. A while after she had the comfort to hear that Ottanus was certainly in Armenia, and consequently she was in less fear of Aglattidas his life, conceiving it a hard matter to meet with him amongst an Army of a hundred thousand men.  
Thus Sir, did Amestris live during all the Armenean war, until the news was spread throughout all Medea, that Ottanus was dead: It was told unto her with so many circumstances, that none were afraid to rejoice openly with her, and all the world did make a public thanksgiving for it, in behalf and out of affection to Amestris. But the wonder of all was, that she who of all living had most reason to rejoice at the death of Ottanus, did receive the news with the most moderation; for there was not the least visible sign of any inward joy in the face of Amestris; as it was a thing impossible she should be sad, so nothing of that passion appeared likewise; but without either any joy or sorrow, she made the wisdom of her mind, and generosity of her soul most apparently appear in her discreet moderation, and when Menasta asked her why she was not more sensible of that freedom which she was to enjoy, she answered that there was some scruples of mind yet unsatisfied, and she feared that the ill treatments of Ottanus would be a means by which the gods would shorten her life. Within a few days after, the servants of Ottanus, returned all except Dinocrates, who they said was sick and stayed in Armenia, which confirmed the reports of his death. In the mean while the Captain of the Castle where Amestris was, in lieu of commanding her as before, he began to obey her as soon as he heard of Ottanus his death, and since he was never very severe in his office, she treated him with much sweetness: Within a few days after the kindred and friends unto Amestris came to carry her back unto Ecbatan, where she lived in all possible discretion, as if Ottanus had not at 〈◊〉 been jealous and fantastical; yet since it is not the custom of mourning in Medea, to continue long, and since Amestris was never in her life more fair then at that time, the passionate affection of very many began to disclose and discover themselves by the tender of their services: And amongst the rest Tharpis (who whilst Ottanus was jealous, had no other design in seeing Amestris and following her unto all places, but to add fuel to his foolish fires) was now really in love with her. Artemon for his part, he thought that mere compassion upon the miseries of Amestris was the only cause which prompted him to see and serve hen, but now he perceived that he loved her with more tender affection than he thought on: So that Amestris in losing a husband found many Lovers: And that which was most strange, was, that Anatisa only mourned for the death of Ottanus, and so sad she was that all the world perceived it● Amestris hearing as much, and discovering on it with her deer Menasta, after second thoughts Menasta imagined the true cause, which was her fears that the death of Ottanus would revive th' 〈…〉 ve betwixt Amestris and Aglatidas, if ever he returned to Ecbatan Amestris blus 〈…〉 n this discourse: Ambition and absence, said she, will doubtless cure Aglatidas of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 affection to me, so that the fears of Anatisa are ill grounded: And 〈◊〉 〈…〉 l 〈◊〉, yet I 〈…〉 de Liberty so sweet that I shall hardly be induced to lose it again. If you had spoke this unto any friend of Anatisa, replied Menasta; and smiled, I should have thought it much Prudence in you; but in speaking unto me, and to tell me that ambition and absence can cure Aglatidas, is very strange: Aglatidas, who might have obtained 〈◊〉 Government for himself, but preferred him whom you married; No no Amestris, it is impossible, and I cannot in●ure to hear of it: Speak Amestris, tell me truly, whether or no, you speak as you think? tell me ingeniously if it would not vex you to 〈◊〉 Aglatidas return hither, and Court Anatisa before your face? As for Anatisa, replied Amestris, I must confess, it would much vex me, and I could not endure it. Who then could you allow him to Court, said Menasta, and smiled? Wicked woman, replied Amestris, why do you so cruelly persecute me? and why do you force me to tell you with a blush, that I cannot endure Aglatidas should love any thing but honour above me? Yet, said Menasta, you speak as coldly as if Aglatidas were Ottanus, I beseech you, said Amestris, speak not of Otanus, but let him enjoy that rest in his death which he could not have in his life, and think (said she with a half smile) that the jealousy of Otanus has not been my only punishment, but the jealousy of Aglatidas hath also extremely troubled me; and therefore I had need be wise in exposing myself the second time to the same misery. You may easily prevent that (replied Menasta wittily) by holding no discourse with Megabises, if he return hither; and banish out of your heart all causes of complaint against him: and let me tell you that a secret spleen in Love, how little soever it be in the beginning, may end in a great quarrel: therefore harken to my Council, and without any more apprehensions of Aglatidas his jealousy, receive his affection with gratitude; for I am confident that his fidelity deserves it. This Sir was the State of things: Tharpis and Artemon were in love with Amestris, and Anatisa was jealous; for since the death of Ottanus she had many spies about the actions of Amestris, to the end she might discover what intelligence passed between Aglatidas and her: But there being at that time some Commotions in Medea, it was your goodness Sir, to make choice of Aglatidas to be sent thither, with Commission from the King for it. I cannot well describe unto you Sir the impatience of Aglatidas, during this voyage; yet give me leave to tell you, that though he was going to see Amestris and Amestris at liberty, yet he did a hundred and a hundred times express his sorrows to be so far from you Sir: The glorious name of Cyrus and the pleasing name of Amestris, were perpetually pronounced, and nothing else, during all the voyage. As good fortune was, things were a little calmed at Ecbatane before we came there. Moreover, since he came with absolute Authority, his arrival was no sooner known, but all addressed themselves unto him with resolutions of obedience; So that his entrance into Ecbatan was as if it were in Triumph. In the mean time Artemon, Tharpis and Anatisa were quite down in their conceits: But as for Amestris, she was so quicked at his return, that she hardly knew the motion of her own heart.  
As soon as Aglatidas arrived, he was so thronged and taken up with public business that he could not disengage himself from them, but desired me to go unto Menasta, and desire her to know the commands of Amestris, and to understand from her how she was pleased he should behave himself as soon as this throng of affairs would permit him any leisure to dispose of: But Menasta knowing the modest mind of Amestris, told me, that Aglatidas should make his first address by way of visit only, as was fitting unto one of her quality, and that if he would be pleased to acquaint her with the day he intended to come unto Amestris, she would contrive it so cunningly; that, provided he came in fitting times for it, there should be little company when he came. Time did seem so tedious unto Aglatidas, that notwithstanding his multitude of affairs, he could not choose but write two Letters unto Menasta that same day, and go unto her at night; for since she was his Cousin, he was more free with her then another; and he took such delight in discourse of his deer Amestris, that he never thought of parting from her. But at last after he had spent two whole days in the King's service, being in extreme impatience to see his fair Amestris, he went unto the Temple, where he understood, by Menasta, she used to be; yet Amestris not being there that day, not daring to trust herself before so much company, at the first meeting with Aglatidas, his hopes were disappointed, and in lieu of seeing Amestris, he met with Anatisa, who came thither purposely to see whether Aglatidas and Amestris were there. This encounter put him out of countenance, being conscious of his crime to that Lady, and considering what a sad consequence the last sight of her produced, it being the cause why Amestris was jealous, and whereupon she grounded her strange resolution; he went out of the Temple as if he knew her not; and the time of his going unto Amestris being come, he went thither with a trembling heart. As the mourning of widows doth not last above four days at Ecbatan, so Amestris was out of it when we came thither; and though she had no desire to appear in her negligent dress, at the first sight of Aglatidas, yet she did not dress herself in any glorious manner at that time, but was in mean between both, so that not diminishing any of her beauty, there appeared as much modesty in her dress, as in her mind: Menasta, who was with her when Aglatidas and I came thither, and since Amestas knew that I was not ignorant of all passages, my presence did not interrupt the meeting; yet Sir it seemed unto me something strange, for in lieu of those testimonies of joy, which usually appears in the faces of those who love, and who after great misfortunes and long absence delight to see one another; Amestris was reserved, and concealing her satisfaction from Aglatidas, she seemed so serious at the first, that all joys vanished out of his eyes, and his heart was so damped that he had much ado to express himself in terms of common civility: That which did most of all non plus him was, that at his coming in he found a Lady with her upon a visit, as we were: so that Aglatidas knew not in all the world how to address himself, nor did Amestris know how to answer him, For to tell her he was sorry for her loss had been ridiculous and absurd; to say he rejoiced at it would offend her; and to say nothing had not been handsome; so that Aglatidas was not a little puzzled, and I know not how he came off with his compliment, for whilst he was performing it I addressed myself to Menasta, to tell her she was not so good as her promise, since that Lady was there to interrupt us; and indeed as she was present, discourse was but constrained, yet Aglatidas hoped that when she was gone, than Amestris would not appear so cold, but after her visit was ended, and we were in freedom together, seeing she kept still in the same posture and would not assume that obliging air and free behaviour as he hoped for.  
Madam (said he unto her) Is it possible that you should express such sensible sorrow at my departure, and that now you should deny me so much happiness as to see some symptoms of joy at my return? That sorrow which I showed against my will (replied Amestris and smiled) did seem so criminal unto me, when I could think upon it with tranquillity, that I desire to repent of that fault now. Say rather (Madam) replied he, that you have a premeditated design to commit another against the laws of amity, which you owe me: For since you honoured me with your commands, to love none but you, when I parted from you, I think it is lawful for me to say as much, since I have most exactly obeyed you: Yes, Madam, I have loved you, and loved none but you, and also in so high a measure that my honour is not dearer than it, nor my life; yet after I have suffered a multitude of miseries; after a sensibility of all your sorrows and my own; after I have preserved a most violent love, without any hope; and endured a million of misforfortunes, and all only because I loved you; then, after all these, to find such an indifference in your looks, as persuades me your heart is indifferent also, is a very hell unto my soul. Do not believe my looks Aglatidas, said she unto him, if they tell you that my heart is indifferent to you, since certainly I have ever esteemed you as much as I ought to do. If you said loved me, in lieu of esteeming me, replied Aglatidas, you had completed my happiness. But cruel Lady, I believe you make no account of all my services and sufferings, but expect I should make a new purchase of your heart: If it be so I beseech you tell me; for I must needs confess I am not prepared at this time to tell you that I love you, nor did I think you expected it, but Madam, if I was deceived I beseech you acquaint me with your will, and you shall be most exactly obeyed. Whilst Aglatidas was thus expressing himself, and Amestris most attentively hearing, that seeming coldness which she out of her modesty, at the first, affected; did vanish before she was aware, so that the real thoughts of heart, stealing through her eyes, did speak her joys so apparently, that Aglatidas had his desired satisfaction, Amestris also plainly perceiving that Aglatidas was no changeling, was full of obliging sweetness towards him. Then did they begin to relate all their sorrows and all their misfortunes which intervened since they saw one another, and this conference which began with a little kind of a quarrel, did end in a renewing of a most sincere amity. Since company began to come in, the conference was interrupted, but the most observable passage was, that Tharpis coming to Amestris whilst we were there, within a quarter of an hour, Aglatidas perceived he was in love with her, and telling Menasta as much, she told him again in rallary that he had best take heed of being jealous, as he was of Megabises. Wicked Cousin answered he, why do you make a jest of that which hath been the greatest torment of my life? I do it, answered sh●e, to prevent your relapse into the like. By this time our visit had lasted but too long, and therefore I ●eckned unto Aglatidas to break off which accordingly we did: But since he owed another visit unto one of his Aunts, he left me, and went to pay it: As ill luck was he found Anatisa there, which vexed him so much, that he was in a mind to go out of the Chamber: yet since he was discovered, and owed much respect unto the Lady he went to visit, and who was already risen up to salute him, he went forward and performed his compliments, which smelled a little of the disorder in his soul: He saluted Anatisa yet very civility, but with so much confusion in his face, as he durst hardly look upon her; for besides his own non plus he saw a Lady who had good reason to blame him, he was afraid that Amestris, if she should hap to know it, should think he sought the occasion to see Anatisa: So that resolving to cut his visit very short, he told the Lady whom he came unto, that this should not be counted for one, but that ere long he would tender his devoirs in a more ample manner. Just as he had ended his compliment, one came and desired to speak with his Aunt upon some very important business. Nephew (said she unto him) I know you are in no such haste, but you may do me the favour to keep this fair Lady company, whilst I go into my Closet and dispatch a piece of business which cannot be done another time. Anatisa was so ravished with this fit opportunity, that she never offered to go away, but quite contrary, desired the Lady not to make so much haste, but to dispatch her business at leisure. Aglatidas was so vexed with this angry adventure, that though he would not openly offer any incivility, yet he would have given some ilfavord reasons to move Anatisa to go away, or else that he must himself be gone: But the Lady of the house left them together without any answer, or any other company except a woman which waited upon Anatisa, who stood at the other end of the Chamber: You may imagine Sir how Aglatidas was put to it, who was a long while dumb as well as Anatisa, who stayed to see what he would say before she began: Yet Aglatidas conceiving it best not to incense the Spirit of that Lady too much, by too great an incivility, resolved to make some excuses unto her, and to prepare her that she should not take it ill, he had cast her off as he had done: but since he was something long in consulting with himself about it, Anatisa broke silence first. Tell me truly Aglatidas, said she unto him, Did you know that I was here when you came in? Certainly, answered he, if I had known you had been here, I should out of my respect unto you, not have forced you to see a man whom you have reason to hate; though, to say truly, he never had any intentions to wrong you. That I may the better judge of your Crime, replied she, you must sincerely, without any dissimulation, tell me what it is, for truly my mind is not yet resolved, what thoughts to entertain of you; Speak then I conjure you, said she, and tell me sincerely, whether when you applied yourself unto me more than unto any other, and by your assiduous Courtship persuaded me that you loved me; whether I say, did you really love me, or only did distemble it, that you might better hide your love of Amestris? for it may be you quitted her at that time for me, or it may be you now quit me for her; or else perhaps you were ever devoted unto Amestris, though I cannot understand what reason you had to let her marry Ottanus: However, tell me the real truth, that I may accordingly regulate my thoughts of you. Aglatidas, being much gravelled for an answer, stood silent a while. No no, said she unto him, pump not for any excuse, nor any disguisement of the matter; let me only know whether you be only an unconstant man or an impostor, lest I should be unjust in hating you either too much or too little; for I put a great deal of difference between these two Crimes, which one of them you have committed. Aglatidas being deeper gravelled than ever, thought it best to confess the very truth of the matter: Madam (said he then unto her) since you command me to speak the truth in all sincerity; I do confess that I was never inconstant, but that I ever loved Amestris better than myself: I beseech you (said he, seeing her blush for anger) let not this truth incense you more against me; for I am certain there is no cause of offence; and am certain also, that you will confess as much, if you will be pleased to understand me. I do not think you can persuade me to it, replied she, since I have more reason to complain against you, then if you were inconstant. You shall see Madam the greatest esteem which I had of you; for since I loved Amestris with a most violent and unruely passion, and esteeming her above all the world, but finding great cause of complaint against her severity towards me, and desiring to cure myself, if it were possible, of such an unaccepted passion, I conceived you able to deface the image of Amestris out of my heart, and would persuade myself and all the world that I was in love with you: Judge, Madam, whether any man that was in love, and who thought the Lady he loved the most incomparably accomplished of any upon earth, could render a greater testimony of esteem than I unto you upon this occasion: I make a question whether I had been able to have rendered it in so high a degree, if I had been really in love with you, as in seeming to be so, and as I endeavoured to become so really. Now if by the help of all my endeavours, I cannot pass above the degree of esteem, nor reach so high as love, the fault is not in your beauty or wit, or any virtue wanting in you; but the only fault is, that I cannot root out of my heart those first thoughts which took such deep hold of it. Therefore, Madam, to speak reasonably, it was a wrong rather unto Amestris then you, when I applied myself unto your service, since I endeavoured to dispose of a heart which was not in my power, but only and absolutely in hers. Confess the truth, replied Anatisa, Was not your only aim to make Amestris jealous, and never to intend any Love towards me? Ah Aglatidas, you are deceived if you ever thought I believed you: Inconstancy is sometimes pardonable; but an impostor, a Cheat, a man which cousin's us, there is no imaginable revenge which is not sweet, to punish him withal. Had I protested a thousand times (said Aglatidas) that I was infinitely in love with you, or if you had done me any considerable favours, you had then some reason for what you say; but alas, Madam, I was no more than a frequent visitor, and discoursed with you more than with any other; and I do not doubt, but if I had been so boldes to profess any matters of Love unto you, than you would have treated me more hardly than you did: but since it is no shame for all beauties to be loved, I cannot conceive I have done you any great injury in moving you to believe, by some deep sighs, that I loved you. No, replied Anatisa, you have rather done me a good turn, by giving me cause to think that you never loved me: However Aglatidas, I shall be revenged of you, and I will revenge myself upon Amestris, that I may be the better revenged upon yourself: And since you say you have tried and endeavoured to love me, I thank you for it, and in requital, I shall try and endeavour to hate you; and if I be not much mistaken, I shall bring to pass my design better than you have yours; for I perceive I have a stronger inclination unto it: Expect therefore a punishment for you Crime, even by Amestris herself, who perhaps shall not make you less jealous than O●tanus was; for indeed Aglatidas some have eyes as well as you; others think her fair as well as yourself; and after the choice which she made of Otanus, I believe few lovers are sure of their own hearts, be they as complete men as can be. Yet since you are ingenious and speak sincerely unto me, I shall be the like and tell you with the same sincerity, that I do already hate you more than you can love Amestris, and shall never be satisfied until you be both miserable: I shall not make any great blunder in the world, but shall revenge myself in a more fine and subtle way. You may use your pleasure (answered Aglatidas coldly) for since I respect all Ladies in general and much esteem you in particular, I shall be so effectually respective, that I shall not interpret your hatred and choler to my disadvantage; and if I return any answer unto the injuries you speak of, it shall be in compliments.  
As Anatisa was ready to reply, the Aunt of Aglatidas came in, and he took his leave of her, and left Anatisa as much incensed against him as possibly could be. But the angry part of this visit was, that Tharpis came into the Chamber as the Aunt of Aglatidas came out of her Closet, so that he saw the private Conference which had been between him and Anatisa, and observed the disorder which appeared in the face of that Lady: So that Aglatidas fearing this encounter should prejudice him in the opinion of Amestris, he sent Menasta unto her, to acquaint her with the accident; and indeed his policy was advantageous to him; for Tharpis found out some means or other to acquaint Amestris the next morning, that Aglatidas and Anatisa had a long private conference together at the house of Aglatidas his Aunt, which made it seem as if it were a thing appointed: but since Amestris knew it before, this devise took no effect, nor made any jars between Amestris and Aglatidas.  
In the mean time Artemon and Tharpis were not a little vexed to observe that they did concur so well: But since Artemon was not declared a Lover, though it was apparent enough he thought he had found out an excellent devise to ruin Aglatidas; So that resolving not to speak yet as a Lover, he designed the destruction of his most feared Rival, by acting in appearance as the friend of Amestris, and the truth is, if she had not perceived by a hundred circumstances that he was in love with her, his plot had taken effect: for he did manage it most cunningly, as I shall tell you. Presently after Aglatidas arrived, and had made many visits unto Amestris, where it was easily perceived he always loved her, and was never hated: Artemon, one morning desired to speak with her, and it was granted him; for she was much obliged unto him for taking her part against Ottanus when he was with her, and had liberty to talk in private.  
Madam (said he unto her) I know not whether my zeal will be well taken, but I am certain that if you could see my heart, you would confess I am obliged to what I did: Artemon (answered she) I have received so many testimonies of friendship from you, and you have done me so many good offices, that I cannot imagine what you can tell me, which will not be well taken; therefore speak on, I conjure you. Madam replied he and blushed (for he related the conference unto me very fully, as I shall tell you at the end of my discourse) I know very well that the jealousy of Ottanus had ever a causeless foundation, and that your virtue is so great that no calumny can blemish it: But having always observed your passionate love of Honour, and that you would not only be virtuous but also would appear so in the eyes of your very enemies, I thought it requisite for you to take into your your serious consideration all those things which Ottanus hath published to the World, concerning the correspondency betwixt Aglatidas and yourself. Not Madam, but that I know his injustice was well perceived, yet for all that, I conceive that Aglatidas conferring the Government upon Ottanus, and he making that the pretence of his fury against you, you would perhaps take away a great cause of censure from all those who envy your beauty and merit, if you should a little less admit of visits from Aglatidas. Not that I have any exceptions against him, for you yourself have often heard me speak much good of him, upon several occasions: Therefore I do most humbly entreat you to believe that what I speak is merely out of zeal to your service. I am much obliged unto you (answered Amestris, knowing well enough what motive induced him to his advice) and I do assure you, Artemon, that I will take your advice, as I ought to do: yet let me tell you, with the like freedom that you take, I am unwilling to revive the jealousies of Ottanus after his death: for he would have barred me from the conversation of all the world; you yourself was not excepted. It is very true, replied Artemon, but all the town talks more of Aglatidas then any other, not that I advise you to banish him from your sight absolutely: but only for a little time; and thereby stop the tongues of calumnies which Anatisa perhaps will raise against you. This seems to be but ill policy, said Amestris, therefore I had rather not conceal my thoughts, and it will be advantageous to me, that all the world did know them, since thanks be to the gods, they are not criminal. However madam, said he unto her, I beseech you take it not ill, that I should be so free with you. I do promise you, I will not, answered she; but Artemon, (said she further, and smiled) you give me this council so seriously that I am fearful you will take it ill from me, if I do not follow it: truly Madam, replied he, I should be very glad you did follow it for several reason, but I see you have no inclination to it. I do ingeniously confess it said she, for I have lived so long in a constrained condition, that I desire to enjoy freedom as far as handsomeness and decency will permit me. But madam, said Artemon, to her, you may remember the time when you told me that exposing yourself to the conversation of the World was constrained and contrary to your inclination: Did you then speak as you thought, Madam, or is your mind changed since. But Artemon, said she unto him, you may remember the time when you told Ottanus that it was fit one of my age and quality should expose themselves unto the conversation of the World; Did you then speak as you thought Ottanus? Or do you not speak as you think now? You, I say, who would have me banish from my converse the prime person that I have in Ecbatan. Madam (said he being transported by his passion) to speak sincerely and really unto you, I would never have moved you to forbear the company of Aglatidas, but only to discover your thoughts of him, and likewise to discover what are mine of you. I do not see (said Amestris, and assumed a more serious look) what should be the riddle of these things. You may easily perceive it, answered he, if you will be but pleased to consider that none can converse with you except they infinitely love you, and desire unto themselves a happiness which they fear you will bestow upon another. I must confess, said Amestris to him, that your discourse amazeth me, and I could never have believed you would have given me any cause to complain against you, or begun your expressions of affection with any thoughts of jealousy: But Artemon, that you may see I forget not my obligations to you, I will take the same freedom as you have done, and give you some council, and sincerely tell you, that you will be the most miserable man upon earth, if you ever think of loving me: Content yourself I pray you, that I do believe you are my friend, and be confident that as long as you keep within the limits of that, I shall very much esteem you; but on the other side I do ingeniously profess, that if you love me any otherwise then so, you will lose your labour, you will exceedingly vex me, and I shall endeavour my utmost to persecute you as much as ever I can. But Madam, said he unto her, I beseech you then acknowledge that Aglatidas is the cause of the absolute impossibility to move your heart. When you are no more then only my friend (said she unto him and smiled) I shall discover the secrets of my heart unto you.  
Alas Madam, said he, that's an honour I shall never arrive at; for it is absolutely impossible for me to love you more or less than I do. But when Otanus lived, said she unto him, you were neither unquiet nor jealous, and yet I was the same I am now, and you saw me also as you do now, therefore did you love me at that time? Doubtless I did Madam, said he unto her, yet I did not know it by that name; but I called that esteem, friendship and compassion, which really was most violent Love. For my part, said Amestris, I cannot see any reason why your friendship should not continue friendship still, or why your esteem should be converted into Love. The return of Aglatidas, replied he, is the cause of it. I do understand you very well Artemon, said she unto him, you had some sparks of jealousy in your mind before you knew you were in love; and believe me, nothing could render you more terrible to Amestris then that humour. I know Madam, replied he, that the reason why you say so is because I was allied to Otanus, but I did intend by it to let you know my sincerity and my misery. You would do much better, said she, to let me see your wisdom and discretion, in continuing my friend as heretofore you have been; for by that way you will be sure to have my esteem and friendship; and the other way you will force me to hate you and shun your company.  
Thus Sir you see poor Artemon, who came to see Amestris in hopes to get Agladas banished, was almost banished himself: therefore he began to express himself in the most obliging language he could possible, and solemnly protested he would never speak any thing again that should incense her; but desired he might come see her, though never in private again.  
All this while Anatisa was plotting her revenge upon Aglatidas, and in order to that, she made a firm league of friendship with Tharpis; the confidence they had in each other was so high, that I think they imparted their most secret thoughts: They held many counsels upon it, to advise upon the best course; and this cunning Lady made him promise her never to speak openly of his love to Amestris, for fear she should treat him ill, and banish him her company: for since there was a report that Ciaxares would, ere long, return to Ecbatan, and that Megabises would return with him, she thought that all three rivals would puzzle Aglatidas to some purpose; and if they had all three the freedom of Courting Amestris at once, it was ten to one but some jars or other would arise amongst them, which would reflect upon Aglatidas. She advised Tharpis therefore only to get some faithful Spy which should be continually about Amestris, and never to speak any thing which might incense her, or move her to banish him her company: And the better to delude Tharpis, she told him that there was a Letter which came from the Army, intimating that as soon as Ciaxares came to Ecbatan, than you Sir would send for Aglatidas back; and therefore it was better to stay until he was absent, before he declared himself: Telling him further, that his principal business should be, to hinder as much as ever he could, that Amestris and Aglatidas held no long private conferences together, whilst he stayed at Ecbatan. So that Tharpis was so perpetually with Amestris, as it was impossible to be ●here and not find him one. Aglatidas did divers times offer to quarrel with him, but Amestris did strictly forbid him: for though he did earnestly importune her, and was a perpetual trouble, yet she would not permit a quarrel, upon no other reason but frequency of visits: She would not neither have it denied that she was within, but let every one enter besides; so that she could never enjoy the sight of Aglatidas, but she must admit of the sight of Tharpis also: for though his company was pleasant enough, yet Amestris, Menasta, Aglatidas and myself were so confined in our freedom of discourse, that when he was present we knew not what to discourse upon: Every one was silent, purposely to vex him, but all was one, for speak or speak not, he was always there, and was the last man commonly that went away: So that Aglatidas could never have any opportunity of private discourse with Amestris, but sometimes at the lodging of Menasta, and that too was very rare to find none but ourselves there. Aglatidas yet was so fully assured that Amestris loved him, though she gave him but common testimonies of it, as that he thought himself unhappy in nothing but that she would not name him, conceiving it too short a time since Ottanus died to do it with any handsomeness.  
This Sir was the state of things when Ciaxares came to Ecbatan, and when Megabises followed him, whom one would have thought that time, and absence, and reason would have made him forget his affection to Amestris, but as soon as he heard of the death of Ottanus, and that Aglatidas might perhaps become happy, it revived, and he was deeply in love with Amestris: when he came to Ecbatane he was not deceived in his conjectures, for he found that Aglatidas was in favour with Amestris, and his soul was so extremely perplexed that he could not tell whether the hatred he bore unto his Rival did revive his affection unto Amestris, or his affection to Amestris revive his hatred unto his Rival: However, these two contrary passions took up the whole dominion of his heart, so that in one and the same day, he did both love and hate in the highest excess, and was equally tormented by them both, for as he durst not yet tell Amestris that he loved her, because he had promised never to speak any more of his love unto her; so she durst not make his hatred of Aglatidas appear more than ordinary, because of Ciaxares and of you Sir: so that he was extremely tormented; but in the end, love being the predominate passion in his heart, he conceived, upon serious thoughts, that though he should tell her he loved her still, yet it was no unpardonable sin: So that he went unto Amestris with a resolution to commit it. This visit did both surprise and perplex her, for she imagined that since Megabises had broke his promise of seeing her no more, he would break the other also before he had done, and though to speak reasonably, it may very well be said, that he was only the innocent cause of Aglatidas his jealousy; yet for all that, Amestris had never married Ottanus, if Megabises had not spoke with her in the Garden when Aglatidas became jealous, and therefore she could not choose but have a spleen against him: For this reason therefore and many others, she gave him but cold entertainment, yet would she not openly chide him for his breach of promise, because Tharpis was present, who was an eternal obstacle unto Megabises as well as unto Aglatidas.  
The most observable passage was, that Amestris, being extremely joyed that she had continually one with her, who hindered Megabises from any private discourse, did one day desire Aglatidas, smiling, not to be jealous, if she treated the poor Tharpis a little kindly; to the end he should continue his assiduity about her, as long as Megabises should be at Court. Anatisa, who was very subtle and crafty, did desire that Tharpis should be with Amestris, only when Aglatidas was with her, and be no hindrance unto either Megabises or Artemon, for she cared not who got the heart of Amestris, so Aglatidas lost it. But Sir, Aglatidas was so exceedingly obsequious and full of respects unto her, that though the visits of Megabises were so many bitter Pills to his stomach, and perplexed him to the heart, yet he resolved never to tell her as much, or speak unto her: But do what he could, his eyes betrayed the secrets of his soul, and discovered his restless thoughts; yet since she was resolved to be very sincere and free with him, she expressed herself so obligingly unto him at Menasta's lodging, that she sweetened those bitter Pills at the last, if she did not absolutely cure him of his Malady.  
In the mean time Megabises watched all opportunities to speak in private with her, and at the last found out an odd device, which was, to suborn the Porter by a considerable sum of money: Then when he intended to execute his design, he made choice of such a day as he knew Menasta would not be with Amestris; and acquainting the Porter with it, he obliged him to tell every one, except himself, that came to ask for his Lady, that she was not at home. So that the Porter obeying him, and Megabises sending away his men when he came near the house, fearing if any who came thither should see them there, they would know by them he was there also, he went up into her Chamber, and found no company with her but her women: His first entrance did a little startle her; yet imagining that company would presently come in, and at least Tharpis would not fail to deliver her from the persecution of Megabises, she resolved to be speaking continually unto him, and prevent him from any expressions of Love: So that when they were set and conceiving there was no subject fitter for a long discourse then to speak of you Sir; Since we have a fit opportunity, said she unto him, tell me, I beseech you, whether Cyrus be really such a one as fame speaks him to be: I do not expect you should make a large relation of all his conquests, but I would have you tell me truly, whether it be true, that he is absolute owner of all the virtues, and hath not so much as one fault: for since I was not at Ecbatan when he was there, I miss the sight of him, and would gladly know, whether all those that speak of him do not flatter.  
That Prince, answered Megabises, is so exactly accomplished in all respects, that none can flater him more than they can your beauty Madam, though they commend him in the highest strain. But Madam, said he, if Aglatidas hath not fully described him unto you, he is not grateful enough for those favours which Cyrus hath done him; and you have some reason to fear he will be negligent also in his acknowledgements of those favours he hath received from you. Aglatidas, replied she, has extolled him in such a high strain, as that is the reason why I inquire of you concerning him, conceiving it not possible that one Prince should have as many virtues as all the men in the world together can have; therefore if I were of a condition and humour to show any favours unto Aglatidas, I need not fear by this reason that he will be ungrateful. But Megabises, added she, there is such a vast difference between the fortunes of Cyrus and mine, that it is not fit they should be brought into any comparison; so that without any more speeches of me, I beseech you let us speak only of him. I shall ever speak of him with delight (said he unto her) but only this day Madam, I beseech you dispense with it and me both, and give me leave to spend this opportunity I have to be alone with you, in beging pardon for not keeping within the limits you prescribed me. I also believed Madam, that since you are pleased to permit me the sight of you, so also you will permit me to speak unto unto you; and what coldness soever I observe in your eyes, I cannot choose but assure you, that the flame which once they kindled in my heart, is now hotter than ever it was.  
Amestris, seeing she could not avoid this discourse which she so much feared; and seeing also that it was in vain, she turned herself towards the door, to see if any came in to relieve her, she resolved to answer him directly and speedily, lest any should enter before she had ended; so that taking up Megabises very short, I see, said she unto him, that prudence is most requisite of all the virtues, and it is fit sometimes not to let all one's goodness appear; for indeed Megabises my indulgence towards you in seeming to forget that I ever desired you to see me any more, and that you promised me obedience, is the cause that you speak as you do: yet know that the reason why I did not forbid you to see me, or discourse of a passion which I cannot answer, was because I thought that this passion had been quite extinguished, and consequently you might perhaps become one of my friends: But since you endeavour to persuade me that it remains still in your soul; Let me once more conjure you to keep within the limits of your promise. I do confess Madam (replied he and smiled) that I made this promise unto the fair Amestris, as daughter unto Artambares. who had disposed of her heart unto Aglatidas, but I never made any promise to the wife or the widow of Otanus, who being absolute mistress of her own will, ought now to make more equitable Laws than this, if she desire to be obeyed.  
That Amestris of whom you speak, said she unto him, in changing condition has not changed her thoughts of you. I wish to the gods, replied he, that she had changed her thoughts of Aglatidas, and that he should not be the only happy one amongst so many miserable men: Howsoever, replied she, I do expect obedience, and since you cannot see me but displease me, you shall see me no more; or at the least, if I cannot avoid it absolutely, you shall never see me but in Melancholy and Anger. Yet Madam said he unto her, is it possible you should marry Ottanus, and cast off Aglatidas, for whom you banished me, and will you not now so much as hear the complaints of a miserable man, on whom, out of your goodness, it was your pleasure to bestow some sweet language when you banished him? for than you told him he might pretend unto your esteem and friendship, and that if you had not been engaged by the command of a father, and your own inclination to prefer Aglatidas before all the World, you would not have scorned him: Now Madam, since Aglatidas hath broken your chains, and assumed those of Anatisa, before all the world, in so much as you married Ottanus, tell me, I beseech you, if after all this I have not some pretence unto your heart, which Ottanus unworthily possessed, and which Aglatidas hath rendered himself unworthy of by his inconstancy? Moreover Madam, grant that he never was really in love with Anatisa, and that by orders from you, he did dissemble with her, yet I will maintain he never did love you rightly, that could do so much: At the least, I am most certain, that if you had imposed any such command upon mèe, I should never have been able to obey it. Obey me only in this (replied she) Never visit me any more, nor speak of your pretended passion; and I shall impose no other difficulties upon you. Had I not seen you change your mind, replied he, doubtless I should obey you, since heretofore I have done so; but since I have seen you make choice of Ottanus before all the most complete men in Medea, It is not possible Madam, I should cast off all hope, how rigorous soever you are; for I think I may speak it without any vanity, that there is not so great a difference between me and Aglatidas, as there was between him and Ottanus.  
Amestris hearing Megabises speak thus, and his discourse bringing into her memory, all those misfortunes which he had been the cause of; she was extremely troubled: she wondered that none came in all that time; and turned herself towards the door upon every least noise that her women made: however Megabises, do or say what she could, did pass away the greatest part of the afternoon with her: and in answer to the last thing which he had spoke unto her, she told him in general terms, that her marriage with Ottanus, was caused by a secret which none could dive into, and that she was resolved never to declare it; discovering no further unto him, but that he himself did much contribute towards it. I Madam (said he in a great amazement!) Yes, you, replied she; and therefore looking now upon you as the cause of all my misery; Judge yourself whether I can ever hearken unto what you tell me. I am so ignorant of the crime whereof you accuse me, said he unto her, that I cannot tell how to justify myself. However it be, answered Amestris, you shall never alter my heart; therefore, if it be possible, alter yours, and assure yourself that this is the last time that you shall speak with me in private as long as you live. Megabises would have replied, but that she rise up in a great chafe that none should come in to relieve her, and commanded that her Coach should be presently made ready, saying she would go and visit Menasta. You see (said she unto him, after she had given that command) how dangerous it is to give an ill example; for if you had not failed in those respects which you owed unto me, certainly I should not have failed in that civility which I owed unto you.  
After this, without harkening unto his answer, she took up her hood, and going unto her glass to put it on, she constrained Megabises to go out; yet he did wait upon her unto her Coach: but when the Porter heard them coming down, he went and hid himself, that he might have some excuse when she returned, in case she should come to know that half of the Town came that day to see her; he intended to tell her▪ at her return, if she spoke unto him, that he thought she was gone out on foot at the garden back door, and that most of those who came to ask for her, came since she went out to visit Menasta.  
In the mean time Aglatidas passed away many a restless minute; for be pleased to know Sir, that we went that afternoon very timely to Amestris, and the Porter told us she was not within; and because we saw her Coach in the Court, we asked him whether any of her friends had borrowed it, or whether she was gone out on foot; and he answered us, that she was gone out at the back garden door: Then did we seek out all the neighbourhood for her, but could not hear a word where she was: After we had made many a short visit, we came to the house again, and asked whether she was come home, and the Porter answered No: Then, since Aglatidas was to give her an account of a business, which she desired him to do for one of her friends, unto Ciaxares, he had an extreme desire to meet with her, to let her see how ready he was to obey her: So that we went out again, to seek for her in all likely places; we sent also unto divers houses, to inquire in the name of Menasta for handsomeness sake▪ whether she was there. Whilst we were going thus from quarter to quarter, from street to steet, and from door to door, through all Ecbatane, we met with Tharpis and Artemon several times, who were searching as well as we; and I think we met most of any quality in all the Court; but amongst them all we met with no Megabises; so that ●easting with Aglatidas, I told him that fortune in depriving us of the sight of his Mistress; was yet favourable in delivering us from his rival. Aglatidas blushed at this, and laughing as well as I, told me, that it was no laughing if Megabises should be all this while with Amestris.  
But Sir, after we had the second time visited all the quarters of Ecbatan, we resolved to come unto her house again, and if she were not there, then go and lament with Menasta: but presently after we were answered, that she was not yet returned, staying some twenty or forty paces from the house, we saw Amestris come out of her house in her Coach, and Megabises on foot, without any servant following, who crossing the street went into a house opposite the house of Amestris. Judge Sir, what operation this fight had upon the heart of Aglatidas: At the first he looked upon me, and afterwards turning hastily to see which way Megabises went, and which way Amestris, he lost the sight of both; for the Coach turned into another street close by, and Megabises went into the house I named before. And indeed it was happy that he was out of sight, for I am persuaded he had quarrelled with him without any more delay. Now Artaban said he unto me, What do you think of this? It is very odd Sir, said I unto him; yet since the like hath happened unto you before, I would advise you, not to judge upon appearances. Why, said he unto me, Can I make any doubt of my misfortune, when I see they have denied Amestris to be within, both to me and every one else, whilst all that while Megabises hath been alone with her? How Artaban, can you interpret this any ways advantageously for me? When you saw Megabises, replied I, with Amestris in the Garden by the Fountain, and with your own eyes saw him kiss the hand of that fair and virtuous Lady, did you not then think that you had as much reason to be jealous as now? yet the event did apparently manifest that you wronged her, and that she was most innocent and faithful.  
I do confess it, said he, yet what I now see is very considerable, and more strange; and I pray you Artaban, what do you think of it? I cannot tell answered I, yet I advise you to speak with Amestris, and see what satisfaction she will give, before you precipitately resolve upon any thing; at the first Aglatidas could not resolve upon that course, but all his thoughts were of revenge upon Megabises; but I conceiving by the way they went, that she was gone unto Menasta, did urge him very importunately to go thither, and so we did; but I never in all my life saw such an alteration as was in the face of Aglatidas, and coming into Menasta's chamber, where we found much company, he never looked who he was first to salute, but observing the eyes of Amestris, he saw her so troubled and reserved, that he took it for an argument of her crime. Madam, said he aloud, It is not my fault that I did not wait upon you before this time of the day; for I have been at your house three times since dinner, nor was there any negligence in me, said Tharpis, for I have been there as oft as Aglatidas, nor was I much short in my duty said Artemon, for I was there twice. Truly, said Menasta, I do not know how Amestris hath this day disposed of herself; for all that came this day unto me, told me they were at her house, and sought her all over the town, and could find her no where: Many that were present also said the same. Amestris all the while was so amazed she knew not what to answer since she was all that while at home when they sought for her: Menasta, wondering at her silence, and never suspecting any hidden mystery in the matter, pressed her to answer. Tell us, I beseech you, said she unto her, what you have been employed in? Or if you will not, I shall think the Ghost of Otanus hath appeared unto you and commanded you to be retired. Truly (answered Amestris aloud) I am so much amazed at what I hear, that I know not what to say, for indeed I was never out of my own Chamber until I came hither, and Megabises (said she and blushed) hath been with me all the afternoon. Aglatidas, thinking she said this only because perhaps we might see them come out together, could not withhold the expressions of some unquietness in his looks: But Amestris, desiring to justify herself before all the company. asked all those who said they had been at her house, whom they spoke withal; and as she particularly asked Aglatidas, who told her he enquired of the Porter; I confess, said she aloud, since it is so as you tell me, I may be suspected of great familiarity with Megabises; But I can assure you, without any Lie, that whither it was I was in an ill humour, or he was so, I know not, but we found no pleasant agreeableness together. Yet Madam, said Aglatidas, his visit continued very long: I thought it so, replied she; yet notwithstanding, said Artemon, the conversation of those who newly come from travel, useth to be very pleasant: Yes doubtless, replied Tharpis, but perhaps Megabises did not think it fit to entertain her with discourse of the stately walls of Babylon, or the River of Euphrates, with the Grandeur of Artaxates, or such like: However said she (and interrupted him) I must know at my return how this design comes to pass: After this Aglatidas spoke not a word, and as Amestris could not choose but ask the eyes of Aglatidas what he thought of this passage, so she looked upon him very oft, and the more she did him that favour, the more did he suspect her of infidelity: Since it was now very late, the company was forced to break off, and Tharpis also retired, because Amestris made it known she would sup with Menasta.  
Aglatidas would have gone away before he had rendered an account of his business, but she making that her pretence to stay him longer than the rest, Aglatidas said she unto him; I believe you have some business with me which concerns my self, and therefore I would speak with you. Madam, said he unto her, I did not think you had been very earnest to know it, since you caused some to tell me you were not within the same day I was to render you an account of it. Do you think (said she unto him, seeing none but Menasta and myself in the chamber) that it was by any order from me you did not enter? Madam, said he, I had good cause to think you aught to be obeyed in your own house. And doubtless you believe, said she, that Megabises was permitted to enter when every one else was denied? speak Aglatidas (said she seeing him silent) what do you think of it? I respect you so much (said he and sighed) that I dare not tell you what I think. You tell me enough said she, in telling me no more: but since I confess that there are circumstances and appearances against me, I will be so favourable as not to condemn you of any lightness, but will justify myself in the presence of Menasta and Artaban; but after this Aglatidas, I do expect to be obeyed in all things, without any exception. And as soon as he promised an absolute obedience, Amestris related all the discourse which had passed between her and Megabises, her vexations and anger, to see that none came in to relieve her, and her suspicion that there was some trick or other put upon her; so that to clear the matter, she sent for the Porter; when he was come, she asked him, why he told every one that day she was not within, since he knew very well she was? Pardon me Madam, I beseech you, said he unto her, for the fault which I committed against my will, thinking you to be gone out at the garden back door. But if you had thought so, replied she, you would not have let Megabises enter. Megabises! Madam (replied he, and seemed to wonder) I did not let him enter; if he did come in, it must needs be very timely, whilst I stepped into the Town about a little business, immediately after dinner, not thinking any would come so soon; at my return I asked a boy whether you went out since I went, and he told me you were gone out at the back door; and certainly he took one of your women for you; and I do assure you I saw none of Megabises his men at the gate, for if I had, I should have known he had been there; but since I saw none, I could not imagine he was entered, since he never comes alone. And how came it to pass (said Amestris to him) that you were from the gates when I went out. Because I went to the garden door, replied he, thinking some had knocked: and to tell you the truth Madam, when I understood that you were not gone forth, but had given orders to make ready your Coach, I was so much ashamed of my fault, that I durst not look you in the face; but I can tell you the names of all those who came to wait upon you: Then did he begin to number up all that came to ask for her that day, beginning with Aglatidas and myself, and went on with Tharpis and Artemon: But Amestris stopping him, was angry that the answers of this man did not handsomely justify herself, and did let him know by her threatening language, that he was to provide himself of another Mistress. When he was gone out Amestris looking upon Aglatidas, did know by his eyes he was not satisfied: I perceive, said she unto him, that the answers of my Porter have not justified me in your opinion. Truly Madam, replied he, it was not from him I expected the satisfaction I have need of. Yet it was he who denied you the Gate, replied she, and let Megabises enter. I confess it, replied Aglatidas; yet if Megabises was not preferred unto that honour by your own orders, it troubles me much less; and to know that Madam, I must appeal unto your own mouth.  
If you will take my word, said she unto him, you shall be quickly satisfied: for I do protest unto you Aglatidas, I gave no order at all that day either to open the gates or shut them, or deny myself unto any whosoever, and if I had excepted against any, certainly it should not have been Megabises. Madam, said he unto her▪ you give me most obliging satisfaction; but when I think of Megabises being a whole afternoon with you in private, and saw him come out alone presently after you had taken coach, I did conclude Madam, whether I would or no, that you were either not sincere (if I can speak it without offence) or else that your Porter had betrayed you. Men of his condition are such blockheads, said Menasta, that there is nothing to be concluded by their impertinent words or deeds: This fellow replied I, seems not to have done this, without some design in it: What Artaban, said Amestris to me, are you against me also? Pardon me Madam (said I unto her) for I think the more I suspect the Porter, the more I justify you; yet Aglatidas, said she, I beseech you tell me what I should do, not only to persuade you that I never consented unto the private conference with Megabises, but also to make the Town believe it. I know one infallible way replied Aglatidas and sighed; but Madam, I am afraid you will not take it. It shall be a very difficult one than replied she; for I assure you I am so extremely vexed, that any should think I consented Megabises should be four hours together with me in private, as I would do any thing to undeceive them; therefore tell me Aglatidas, how I should justify myself, both in your opinion, and in the opinion of all the world. If you will appear perfectly innocent Madam, said he unto her, you must make me happy, and marry me; for I know no greater testimony of your innocency; therefore Madam, if you please, I beseech you resolve upon this way of justification. But Aglatidas, said she, I very well see, that this way would justify me to yourself, but not to the world. I can assure you Madam, replied he, that your virtue is so generally known, as when they know you are fully resolved to prefer me before all the rest of your Lovers, they will never suspect you of any familiarity with Megabises: I must confess unto you Madam, that the violent passion of my soul cannot endure the torment, to see you and not see you (if it be permitted me to say so) for I do not call that a seeing you, when I pass away a whole afternoon with you amongst my enemies; for so Madam all sincere Lovers use to call their Rivals: Do not think, I beseech you, I say this out of any fantastical jealousy; No Madam, it proceeds from pure affection: and though the presence of my Rivals do trouble me much more than any others; yet a Lover in his height of sincerity cannot enjoy the conversation of the party Loved, when any shares with him: Love Madam, loves secrecy; and thoughts that pass from one heart into another, loves no witnesses; permit me therefore Madam, I beseech you, the happiness to tell you, that I love you above all expressions, and loves not to tell you so, even Menasta herself shall be present.  
Since Ottanus did use me very ill, said Amestris, It becomes me to do more than others: yet since there are more eyes upon me then upon others, I cannot be too circumspect: therefore Aglatidas, in consideration of your good fortune and happiness as well as of my own, it is good to be well assured we shall be happy together, before we engage ourselves too far. Ah Madam, cried he out, you need not doubt of my good fortune or your own. However, said she, I cannot give you a direct answer now. Will you then not justify yourself, replied he? Yes, said she, but I would have you take my word.  
All this while Menasta and I were talking together, but still overheard what they said: and fearing that Aglatidas and Megabises would quarrel, she left me and went to them: Truly Amestris, said she, I wonder at you; for do you not resolve in your heart to marry Aglatidas? If you do, why do you defer it? would you have him fight with two or three for you? Would you have him kill one, and fly for it, and return in a disguise? Would you have him find you in the Garden again talking with some of your Lovers whom you would banish? Would you have him jealous again, and counterfeit a fresh love to Anatisa? would you marry another Ottanus to justify yourself and punish him? Believe me Amestris, if you would avoid all these, you must marry Aglatidas presently, and lead a happy life. Menasta spoke all this with such a pleasant importunity, that Amestris could not choose but laugh: and as for Aglatidas, he thanked her in such a manner as made it appear he thought himself much obliged. For my part, I added my prayers unto Menasta's reasons, and pressed Amestris so far, that she could hardly choose but answer our desires: And when she went about to oppose against us, and demand time to consider, Menasta counselled Aglatidas to think that she consented to the private discourse with Megabises. But do what we could, she would have two day's time to consider, and then to give her positive answer. After this Menasta telling her in a low voice, she feared a quarrel with Megabises; Amestris did absolutely command Aglatidas the contrary; and he was forced to promise her he would not, provided she gave him a favourable answer.  
Thus Sir, this private conference which Megabises had so subtly contrived for his own advantage, was a cause moving Amestris unto resolutions in favour of Aglatidas. After this we retired: But notwithstanding all that Amestris had said, Aglatidas was very unquiet in his soul, and what he had seen had such an influence upon his mind, that all the night I could not move him to speak of any thing else. In the mean while Menasta made Amestris to declare openly unto all the world in favour of Aglatidas, knowing then that none durst be so bold as to interrupt his happiness, considering what favour he was in with Ciaxares. But since she had a great desire to discover whether her Porter had told her true or cozened her, when she was returned home and in her chamber, she employed one of her women, who was very witty and subtle, to inquire very narrowly, whether the Porter held any familiarity with any of Megabises servants. Madam, answered she, I know not whether he hold any intelligence with any of his servants, but I am sure, that as I returned from the Temple these two mornings, I saw Megabises talking with him at the corner of a blind street; yet since I thought that Megabises only asked him whether you were at the Temple, or whether you would presently go abroad, or some such questions, I went on and took no further notice of them.  
No sooner had the woman told this to Amestris, but she immediately sent for the Porter again, to ask him what Megabises said unto him such a day, such an hour, and in such a place. The man was so startled at this question, that he trembled, and gave but a very bad answer: So that Amestris not giving him so much time as to invent a lie, began to threaten him, and tell him that if he would confess the truth, she would pardon him: Then after many ill answers, which would be too tedious to relate, he confessed that Megabises sent one of his men for him, that he gave him money; and indeed told the whole truth. After this, Amestris, fearing some future misfortune might be occasioned by Megabises, resolved to marry Aglatidas.  
In the mean time Tharpis and Artemon. had their shares in vexations as well as others: The first of those two had not the happiness of complaining to Anatisa, for she was gone into the Country, yet since she was not above fifty furlongs from Ecbatan, he writ unto her; as for Artemon, as deep in love with Amestris as he was, yet being more wise, and seeing how she lived with Aglatidas, he desisted, and dared attempt no further manifestations of his Love; but yet, since hope never leaves Lovers till the last gasp, before he quite excluded the Image of Amestris out of his heart he would know a little more certainly upon what terms Aglatidas stood with her: So that since we two were a kind of friends together, and knew that I was very much one unto Aglatidas, he came unto me and desired me to tell him, in general, whether the heart of Amestris was so deeply engaged that there was no hopes at all left for those that loved her: I know very well, said he unto me, you ought not to reveal any secret wherewith you are trusted; but however, being your friend, as I am, I know you will not refuse to advise me, in a business upon which depends the misery or happiness of all my life; give me leave therefore to tell you, that I am extremely in love with Amestris; but for all that, if I were sure her heart were engaged unto another, I would endeavour to recall my own; therefore I beseech you, tell me what is my best to do: Artemon spoke this with so much ingenuity, that I thought myself obliged to council him sincerely, and to do good service unto three at once: To Amestris, in delivering her from Artemons' importunity: To Aglatidas, in taking a Rival off his hand: And to Artemon, in curing him of a passion which would never be accepted; yet since there is no trusting the sincerity of a Lover, I acquainted him with nothing of what I knew concerning Aglatidas and Amestris, but I advised him to try whether he could possibly quit his affection; for I knew Amestris would never accept of it; I coloured my Council with other reasons; I told him, that since Megabises and Aglatidas, who were in great favour with Ciaxares, did pretend unto her, there was no hopes for him against such Rivals, for they had been both in love with her before she married Ottanus, and that in all likelihood, if ever she married again, she would choose one of them two: However, his best way would be to stay and see what time would produce: Artemon gave me thanks for my advice, though it went against the heart of a Lover. In the mean while Amestris, who had sent for Menasta, to discover unto her what she knew concerning the trick which Megabises put upon her, resolved now to defer it no longer, but to declare openly for Aglatidas, and to tell him as much; But Amestris conceived, that since Megabises had ever expressed much passionate affection to her, it would not be amiss if Menasta spoke unto him, and endeavoured to prevent any quarrel; yet there was no such need: for as soon as Aglatidas did ask the King's permission to marry Amestris, Ciaxares knowing the pretensions of Megabises to her, did absolutely command him, not to hinder the good fortune of Aglatidas; So that he durst not oppose it. Then since the business made a great noise, Artemon was glad he took my council, and Tharpis seeing Megabises durst not complain against the happiness of his Rival, out of obedience to the King, he was forced to follow his example, and hide his sorrows.  
Thus Sir you see Aglatidas as happy as he could desire; for Amestris had made the plot of Megabises so apparent unto him, that not the least suspicion remained in his mind. All the Kindred and Friends of Amestris approved of her choice, and all those that loved Aglatidas was glad of it; not a Rival durst appear: Megabises shunned his Rival and his Mistress both: Artemon complained unto none but me, and sweetened his sorrows by relating unto me the virtues of Amestris whilst Ottanus lived: And Tharpis went into the Country to Anatisa, who was vexed in so high a measure, that it may be termed rage rather than sorrow or revenge. In the mean while nothing hindered Aglatidas from his happiness, and he had no other torment but impatience, which never leaves Lovers until all be completed: All the Court and Town rejoiced at this intended marriage; for the solemnity of which, a thousand public diversions were preparing: The day was set down by the King himself, who would honour this feast with his presence: The invention of all the Ladies in Court and Town were upon the rack for new dresses against that day. Amestris and Aglatidas, discoursing together with more freedom than before, did so infuse their souls into each other, that their loves increased, and by consequence their happiness, it being certain that the felicity of Lovers does not less consist in the reciprocal opinion of each others merits, then that of their passion.  
This being the state of things, and there being but three days until the marriage, a chance happened which did extremely trouble the joys of Aglatidas and Amestris; I think I already told you that Anatisa was fifty furlongs from Ecbatan, and that Tharpis went unto her. As they were one day walking together near the way which goes to Ecbatan, and consulting which way they might trouble the felicity of Aglatidas and Amestris, they spied a man on horseback, who left the highway and came towards them. Anatisa, who was not in any humour to receive visits, would have avoided him; yet imagining that perhaps it was one who came to see her Aunt, with whom she dwelled, she continued her walk as if she took no notice of him who was coming towards them: But a woman which waited upon her, knowing him to be her brother that waited upon Ottanus, she cried our, and went with open arms to embrace him, for he was lighted from his horse, and gave him unto a man which waited on him. Anatisa, at the cry of her woman, who thought her brother dead, looked upon him and knew him to be Dinocrates, who had done her much service in augmenting the jealousy of Otanus, and persecuted Amestris: So that in consideration of these offices she talked with him, and asked how he lost his Master, and why it was so long before he returned. Then he made a relation, how Otanus perished under the Mountains of Artaxates, unto which the King of Armenia retreated; how he saw his body in the Torrent, and how he sunk to the bottom of the water; and how he himself fell sick in a little Town; how afterwards he had got him another Master, but not liking his service he quitted it and returned: and since he was to pass so near a place where he thought she might be, he came thither. But Dinocrates, said she unto him, tell me, I pray you, whether Ottanus when he died did hate Aglatidas. He hated him so much, answered he, that I believe it was the cause of his death: for he would not have engaged himself so far amongst the enemies, but in hopes to meet with him, and to kill him: for my part, said he, since the fight-was in the night, I cannot tell how the misfortune happened, but I saw him dead with these eyes, and so did many others.  
Whilst he was speaking thus unto her, she looked upon the hilt of his sword, which was much too rich and magnificent for a man of his quality to wear, and considering upon it, she knew it to be the sword of Aglatidas. Those who do not know the power of love, would wonder Anatisa should take any notice of this sword: but for my part I think it not strange at all; for I am persuaded that every thing which belongs unto the party loved will never out of memory. Moreover this hilt was so very rich and extraordinary, that it was the more remarkable, and she had seen it a thousand times before. Anatisa no sooner knew it, but she asked who gave it unto him: And he told her, that a few days after the death of his Master, as he was in Artaxates, he bought it of a Persian Soldier, who told him he pulled it out of the body of a dead Armenian at the bottom of the Mountains where they fought. Anatisa, after this knew that Aglatidas had left his sword (as sometimes it may happen) in the body of him he killed. And saying no more, she left Dinocrates with his sister, and continued her walk with Tharpis; but so taken up with her own thoughts, that he could not choose but ask her, why her mind was more musing then ordinary. I am studying, said she unto him, how to make you happy if I can, or at the least to disturb the felicity of your Rival. He stands upon too sure terms, replied Tharpis, for me ever to hope for it. Not so sure, said Anatisa, but if Dinocrates will be as faithful unto me as heretofore he hath been, I shall bring it easily to pass. Tharpis was so impatient to know her design, that he assured her he would suborn him though with half his estate rather than fail; so that she told him her plot, and he did so well approve of it, that he was ready to thank her upon his knees, for finding out so rare an invention: After this, without any delay, Anatisa called Dinocrates, and told him she would make him a fortune if he would do as she desired; Tharpis also assured him of a very rich present.  
Dinocrates' was naturally apt enough for such designs, and therefore promised to obey them, whatsoever it was they would command; Then did they tell him their desires, after they had well agreed upon the business, and given Dinocrates' full instructions what to do and say; they found it not expedient it should be known he had seen them; so that after they had expressly charged his sister to conceal his return from every one, they sent him to lodge in the Town close by, and the next morning meeting in the same place, Tharpis was as good as his word, and charmed him with a very considerable gift, after which she gave him his last instructions and sent him away charging him to be sure that he did not go unto Amestris until there was much company with her.  
One afternoon then, just three days before the intended marriage, he went unto her whilst Aglatidas was with the King, but he found Menasta and four other Ladies with her, who were of kin to Ottanus, and because they loved her they came upon a visit; Dinocrates watching his opportunity, went into the Chamber of Amestris: As soon as she saw him enter, she blushed, and the very fight of him brought fresh into her memory the persecutions of Ottanus, and all the ill offices which he had done her; yet thinking it more generous and handsome to dissemble her resentments against Dinocrates, and to look upon him as one whom her husband loved, she recollected herself, and speaking very mildly unto him; how comes it to pass Dinocrates, said she, that it is so long after your Master's death, before you return. Madam, replied he and sighed, I was so troubled at the accident, that I fell sick for sorrow, but as soon as I recovered I returned, Madam, to give you an account of my Master's misfortune: I saw you, said I unto him, when you sought for his corpse and found it in the midst of the Torrent: It is very true Sir, replied he, and you were a witness of part of my sorrows that I could not get it out of the water: Were you in the fight when he was killed? said Amestris. Yes Madam replied he, and I touched Aglatidas, whom I knew by his voice when he ran his sword through the body of my Master and could not draw it out again: Your Master (replied I, extremely astonished, but less than Amestris) was he killed by Aglatidas? think well what you say Dinocrates, for how could you know him in the tumult of Combat, and when there was no light but stars? I told you Sir before, answered Dinocrates' undauntedly, that I knew him by his voice; for when he fell upon my Master, who was then in the head of a Party, he spoke something unto the men which followed him by way of encouragement: So that my Master, knowing the voice of Aglatidas better than I did, turned towards me and said; Ha Dinocrates, yonder is Aglatidas whom I look for, do not forsake me: I cannot directly say that Aglatidas knew my Master's voice; but I am sure they charged one another very fiercely, and Aglatidas, more happy than Ottanus, ran his sword to the hilts through his body, who immediately falling Aglatidas could not draw out his sword again: then I seeing my Master fall, knew not whether I should fall upon his murderer, or endeavour to recover him from the feet of those who were fight; but the tumult of the combat, removing a little from that place, I took up the body of my Master, to see if he had any life; I pulled the sword out of his body by little and little, and finding no breath nor life, I began to defend myself; Then Aglatidas having got another sword, and I knowing him better than I did before, resolved to revenge the death of my Master; but our Party was grown so weak, that we 〈…〉 were forced to fly, and I could not return to look for the Corpse of my Master unti 〈…〉 such time as a truce was made, and then when I had the liberty to look for him, 〈◊〉 could not find him in the place where I left him, but immediately after I saw him in th' 〈…〉 midst of a violent torrent, as Artaban saith, not knowing who it was that cast high 〈…〉 in. All the while of this discourse Amestris was infinitely perplexed and durst 〈◊〉 look up: The Ladies which were present, and understood the state of things, w 〈…〉 very sorry to hear this Relation: for my part, my choler was so high, that I could hardly refrain interrupting Dinocrates, who seeming to be altogether ignorant of any intended Marriage between Amestris and Aglatidas, did peremptorily justify that it was he who killed Ottanus, and that the sword which bee drew out of his body, was the sword of Aglatidas, for it was a sword which was very remarkable, and he had seen him wear it several times: Then Dinocrates, seeming as if he were very ingenious, I will not say (said he) that for this Aglatidas is in any fault at all; for in war none whosoever of the enemy's party are to be spared. But where is this Sword? replied I. Sir (answered he with tears almost in his eyes) I dare not show it in the presence of my Lady, for I cannot endure to look upon it myself, nor know I upon what considerations I have kept it.  
As he was saying so, Aglatidas, who yet knew not that Dinocrates was returned, came into the Chamber of Amestris with eyes as full of joy, as if nothing could hinder his happiness; but perceiving an extreme sadness sit upon the soul of Amestris, seeing Dinocrates there, and observing much astonishment in me and all the Ladies present, he stood still, and bethought himself what misfortune could possibly happen. Aglatidas (said I unto him) come and justify yourself; for Dinocrates here, says you killed Ottanus that same night when we fought at the bottom of the Artaxaten Mountains. Who I? (replied Aglatidas in a strange amazement) how can that be since the illustrious Cyrus told me he heard a cry that Otanus was dead, in a place where I was not? And I myself heard Ottanus named far off the place where we fought. Sir (replied Dinocrates' most impudently) I am very sorry that I have uttered a truth which I see doth much trouble you; yet, as I said before, when any one is killed in wars, the person who killed him is never looked after. But Sir (said one that was Cousin to Otanus and thought to justify Aglatidas by the question which she asked) Did you lose your Sword in that fight? Yes Madam, answered he; for I could not pull it out of the body of an Armenian, but was constrained to leave it in him, and snatched another by good fortune, out of the hands of another Armenian. Ah Aglatidas, said Amestris, what do you tell me? Since he could not imagine why Amestris should speak so, or why the other Lady should speak of his Sword, nor how they should come to know he had lost it; he turned towards me, and I told him that Dinocrates affirmed he had the Sword, and that he drew it out of his Master's body. The Sword, said Aglatidas, is so knowable, that none can mistake it for another, and I believe that every one of my friends and acquaintance knows it; but where is it, added he? Sir, replied Dinocrates, if it be your pleasure I should send for it, I will let you see it in the outer Chamber. Then Aglatidas pressing him unto it, Dinocrates went out: during which time he looked upon Amestris, who had no disposition to look upon him: Madam, said he unto her, I see very well, that if Dinocrates show me my Sword, and affirm he pulled the same out of his Master's body, I cannot make it clear that I did not kill Ottanus, since I must ingeniously confess, that I left it in the body of a man who was in the same Party Ottanus was; yet for all that Madam, I must needs believe the relation of Dinocrates to be false, since he hath ever been your enemy in all things; he is brother unto a woman who waits upon Anatisa, and therefore what ever proceeds from the testimony of his tongue ought to be suspected. But Aglatidas, said Amestris, I find by your own confession, that you left your Sword in a dead man; Dinocrates says that man was Ottanus; and if once he show you your own Sword, you can then no way contradict him, but by saying, that you did not know it was Ottanus whom you killed: and that's too little, abundance too little against so strong and circumstantial a deposition as this; therefore I conjure you to see me no more, until you can better clear yourself. Oh Madam, cried he out, what fatal request is this?  
As Amestris was ready to reply, one came in and told us, that Dinocrates was in the outer Room, and had brought the Sword: Aglatidas therefore went out, and so did all the Ladies except Menasta, who stayed with Amestris. As soon as this Sword was showed, which we knew well enough, Aglatidas looked sternly upon Dinocrates, and not knowing what to say in his own justification, he searched in his eyes to see if he could know by them whether he was innocent or culpable: But Dinocrates did so subtly dissemble the matter, that it was not possible to discern his malice. Aglatidas was so full of fury in his looks, that sometimes I thought he would have killed Dinocrates; and had he not imagined that he should have appeared more criminal by the Act, I do believe he would have fallen upon him: But at the last, not knowing what to say, nor being able to ascertain himself that he had not killed Ottanus, he went towards the Chamber of Amestris, with intentions to cast himself at her feet though he knew not well what to say: But Menasta met him with absolute commands from Amestris that he should not enter, and that he should be so respective of her as never to see her until he could make his innocence better appear. Aglatidas could hardly yield obedience, but Menasta used such arguments as persuaded him. Then we went out both he and I, after we had examined Dinocrates, by a hundred cross questions, in hopes he would contradict himself; but he was so subtle in all his answers, and in the least circumstances, that the most exact Judges would have been fully satisfied with them, and condemned Aglatidas: After we were gone out, the Ladies stayed a while with Amestris, and afterwards went out, all except Menasta, who stayed with her, as I did with Aglatidas. Dinocrates' went down also, and told all the story unto the servants of the house, to the end the noise of it might be the louder; but he might have saved that labour, for within four hours after he had spoken with Amestris, nothing else but the oddnesse of this accident was discoursed of in all Ecbatan.  
In the mean time, I knew from Menasta that she had no sooner been in private with Amestris, but that fair and wise Lady, looking upon her with eyes so full of melancholy, as plainly spoke the trouble of her soul; Truly said she unto Menasta, it must needs be acknowledged that my fate is lamentable, and that I was too blame in ever hoping for any quietness, after so long and so cruel a torment; but I am at this day arrived unto such a height, that hope can never again elevate my heart, and therefore can never augment my torment since I shall endure no more miseries than I looked for. I must needs confess (said Menasta to her) that the accident is very strange; but yet since Aglatidas doth verily believe that he did not kill Ottanus, and since there is only the relation of Dinocrates against him; why should you make yourself miserable all the days of your life by any such tormenting thoughts? Because replied she, I can never have any contentment of mind without honour, and will never be accused for doing any thing against decency and virtue. As soon as she had thus expressed herself, Dinocrates came into her Chamber, who apprehending as he seemed that he should incur the hatred of Amestris and Aglatidas. Madam, said he unto her, I most humbly beg your Pardon for the fault which I have ignorantly committed, for since I came directly to your Chamber, before I had spoken with any, I did not know of the designs betwixt you and Aglatidas, for if I had, questionless I should have concealed some part of that truth which I have uttered: But perhaps Aglatidas killed my Master and knew it not, or if it be your pleasure Madam I shall contradict what I have already said, and never show the sword unto any, to the end it may not be known: Dinocrates spoke this with so much counterfeit ingenuity, that though Amestris had herefore seen a hundred demonstrations of his malice, yet she was deceived, and thought that now certainly he spoke sincerely; yet she would not accept of his offer, but told him that though none upon earth knew of the business but herself, yet she would do what became her. After this she dismissed him, and assured him she would desire Aglatidas not to be revenged on him, for being the cause of his misfortune. Do you then intent never to see him again (said Menasta after Dinocrates was gone.) There is no question to be made of it (answered she) for how can any reason permit me to see the man that hath killed my Husband? But Madam, said Menasta, he never intended it, nor can I believe he killed him. That is not sufficient, answered Amestris; for though I were most certain, he did never intend it, yet all's one, I would do the same only because the world believes it, and will suspect I knew of it: Not that I can accuse Aglatidas for killing him; but yet for all that, since it is known he died by his hand, there needs no more to oblige me never to see him again, nor to render myself the most miserable person in the world. Whilst Menasta was talking thus to Amestris, I was no less busy in comforting Aglatidas, who could not choose but admire how the Fates did interrupt his happiness: for, said he, how can I possibly justify myself, since I am not certain whether Dinocrates speak true or false? I am most certain that I knew him not to be Ottanus, and that I heard him named far off me: but yet for all that, I know the Sword which they show me is mine, and that I could not draw it out of the body of an enemy which fell dead at my feat, and it might be Ottanus, since he was in the fight. But, said I unto him, why did you not disclaim your Sword? for I am persuaded that Love does admit of some handsome innocent lies, which does no hurt unto any. I should rather prejudice then justify myself, said Aglatidas, if I should have disowned the Sword, since all men of any quality in the Court do know it: And Megabises amongst the rest could have known it to be a lie, for he hath seen it a hundred times; so that Amestris might well have suspected that I knew him to be Otanus when I killed him: neither do I think it generous to become happy by lying. But I do so plainly see the gods intent my ruin, that I verily believe I cannot better observe their wills then by destroying myself: yet first I am resolved to see Amestris, and therefore I conjure you to go unto Menasta, and procure her to obtain this favour for me; for truly I cannot conceive it just to condemn me before she hear my reasons. Then did I go accordingly to do him this service; but Menasta told me she thought it would be no easy matter to obtain, yet she would do what she could. In the mean time Anatisa, to take the fuller joy in her plot, returned to Ecbatan, and divulged that Aglatidas knew well enough when he killed Ottanus, and that Amestris, as innocent as she made herself, knew it also. This last report found credit but with very few; Yet since Amestris was very inquisitive of what the Town talked, and hearing of all the impostures, she did so confirm herself in her resolutions, never to marry Aglatidas, or see him again, that Menasta could not obtain leave for him to come and plead his reasons; So that there was a necessity in deceiving her, and to see her, whether she did consent unto it or no: not that she did not all this while love him with abundance of tenderness, but it was the consideration of her honour that was predominate in her soul, Whilst Aglatidas and Amestris were thus miserable, Anatisa and Tharpis rejoiced, Artemon and Megabises were glad; and to drive the nail unto the bottom of the plot, Anatisa did cause reports to be blown in the ears of Amestris, that the world did infinitely commend her resolution of never marrying Aglatidas or seeing him again, so that she gave such resolute answers unto Menasta, that there was no hopes of obtaining any thing for poor Aglatidas.  
Three or four days passed on in this manner; but at the last Menasta, feigning herself to be sick, purposely that Amestris might come to visit her; her plot took effect, and Aglatidas, with myself knowing it, went thither: Menasta gave orders that none should enter except us: as for Amestris, though her Coach stood at the door, yet every one, knowing the great familiarity between them, were not at all offended that she should enter and none else. When we came into the Chamber, Amestris was sitting upon Menastaes' bed, so that Aglatidas was upon his knees before her, ere ever she knew he was entered. Madam, said he unto her, and would not let her rise, I beseech you give me leave to present you with my reasons, before you shall proceed to judgement, lest you should be guilty of some injustice. Amestris, without answering Aglatidas, looked upon Menasta, as if she accused her for deceiving her, and indeed had gone out, if Menasta had not held her by the gown. Alas Menasta, said she, what will the world think of me, if it be known I permit Aglatidas to see me? Alas Madam, replied I, what shall we say of you, if you will not so much as hear the complaints of a man you have made most miserable? If he could say any thing which could justify himself, replied she, I should hear him with abundance of delight, but since he cannot, why should you desire me to lay such a stain upon my reputation, as nothing can possibly efface? I know not Madam what Justice there is in crediting the relation of a man who heretofore has told a thousand lies against you. I do confess his tale is told handsomely and confirmed with strong conjectures; but for all that Madam, I do assure you with all possible sincerity, and do conjure you by all the gods whom we adore to believe it, that I did never intend to kill Ottanus, nor did so much as know whether he was in the fight or no: And I do also most seriously protest, that though I did always hate him, yet if I had known him amongst mine enemies, I should for the love of you have shunned meeting with him; therefore Madam, though it be true that I did kill Ottanus, as I cannot believe I did, yet was not the act to be imputed unto me as a crime, since I knew him not, yet upon the bare deposition of one of your grand persecutors, who hath accused me for killing a most extreme Tyrant in the wars; you Madam, will make me the most miserable man upon Earth, and you will be so highly severe against me as not to hear my complaints. I conjure you Madam in the name of the Gods not to condemn me so slightly, or at the least not to condemn me so soon. I wish to the gods whom you invoke, said Amestris, that I could never condemn you, but that your innocence might appear as clear as the day; but Aglatidas it cannot, for truly to speak sincerely unto you, although I were most certain that all Dinocrates says were false; yet were I not able to undeceive the world, and therefore I must never marry you: your amity, replied Aglatidas, were built upon a weak basis if it were not able to withstand such a consideration as this; for be pleased to know Madam, that true virtue is not built upon the opinion of others; but when one hath that secret Testimony of a clear Conscience on their side it is satisfaction sufficient, and one never need to make one's self miserable for the satisfaction of others. But Madam, said he and sighed, I am afraid you are not sensible of my ruin.  
Yes Aglatidas, replied Amestris, do not deceive yourself, for I have so high an esteem of you, and if I durst say, it, so great an affection, that I cannot think you guilty of any crime. I do believe all you say, and consequently do think, that if you killed Ottanus, it was ignorantly; yet for all that, if I should marry you, the censorious world would perhaps be apt to say, that you did it by my appointment; So that this thought doth so deeply wound my imagination and my honour, that I must use all expedients to make my very enemies think me innocent: and in order to that Aglatidas, I must not only refuse to marry you, but also never to see you again; and if you have any power over your own soul, you will find out some handsome pretence to depart from Ecbatan: yet for your comfort I do assure you, because I think I may do it without a crime, that I think it an easier matter for me to die then part with you. I do most heartily beseech you Madam (said Aglatidas with most sorrowful eyes) either be all severity or all sweetness; either content yourself with the innocency of my heart and let m enjoy yours, or else express so many signs of scorn and inhumanity, that I may die with sorrow at your feet; for what delight can you take Madam, in prolonging my life by giving me such obliging language, and to augment my misery? How do you think it possible I can shake hands with death, as long as I think the divine Amestris loves me? And how do you think I can endure my life when I certainly see she shall never be mine? and when as I am in some fears (if I dared say it) some other hereafter shall enjoy her? Never fear this last, replied Amestris, but on the contrary, be certainly persuaded, that the heart which I had given you shall never be in the power of any other.  
Your expressions are most obliging, replied Aglatidas; but Madam, the miseries which I suffer are so great, that I cannot handsomely resent that joy which those advantageous words might give me; for I see it is your pleasure I should never hope for any thing either from tedious time or your divine affection, or my most loyal fidelity: whosoever should have told me, when Ottanus lived, that I should have been more miserable after his death, I could not have believed him; and yet there is no comparison between then and now; Ottanus in his grave doth more cruelly torment me then he did alive: Yes Madam, I do most ingeniously confess, that without ever any contrivance of his death when I went from you, I had some hopes that it was not impossible I might overlive him: But the reason by which you now ruin me and all my hopes, is a perpetual reason, and will last for ever, unless the gods will work miracles, and make my innocence visible to the world; so that I see no other end of my miseries but death: do not then hinder me of my only remedy by giving me any smooth and unprofitable language, which perhaps are but bare effects of your pity, and proceed not from any such affection as you promised me. Whilst Aglatidas was thus in discourse with Amestris, I perceived in both their faces such an extraordinary sadness, that I never in my life saw the like: Amestris could hardly speak, because she thought all her obliging language a crime; yet was her silence so eloquent and significative, that Aglatidas could not make any doubt but his dear Amestris did most tenderly love him: yet making some scruple at the length of this sad Conference, she would needs go away: But Aglatidas holding her, I most earnestly beseech you Madam, said he unto her, to tell me precisely what I must do. I would have you live, replied she, but that you live far off from me. O Madam, said he, I beseech you do not command me things impossible; or at the least so difficult, that death is much more sweet and easy than obedience to them. But I require more from you, replied she, for I would never have you send me any Letters, nor expect any from me. This is much Madam, replied Aglatidas, and much too much; nor know I how to yield obedience, unless I were able to forget you, and leave loving you. In the contrary, said she, I am so perfectly persuaded of your innocency, that I make no scruple to desire that you will love me as long as you live. In the mean time Aglatidas let me be gone; for when I think how all the Town believes you killed Ottanus, and should know I permit you to be thus at my feet, I blush for shame, that I should thus long suffer it. But Madam, said Aglatidas, do you not consider, that by banishing me from you, I leave Megabises, Artemon and Tharpis with you? It is very true, replied she, you do so, but since I am not able to banish you out of my heart, you need not envy them at all. But Madam, said Aglatidas, will you ever endeavour to banish me out of your heart? I ought to do so at the least, replied she, and if I do not attempt it, it is because I know I should lose my labour. After these obliging words Amestris rise up, as being ashamed for pronouncing them; and Aglatidas seeing she was fully resolved to go away if he did not, he rise up also, and looking upon her eyes so full of excessive sorrow; Madam, said he, and breathed a profound sigh, I had rather I should leave you then you should leave me, for perhaps Menasta will plead for me when I am gone. I do promise you, I will, (said that faithful Kins woman.) And I do absolutely forbid you, said Amestris, unless you have a mind to double my sorrows. But Madam (said Aglatidas) is it possible my Ruin should so much trouble you? must I perish for ever? and must this be the last time that ever I must see you? No, no, Madam, I cannot imagine it; questionless you will permit me to return again, and to see you: for though I would yield obedience unto such Commands, yet I sensibly see I am not able: Indeed Madam, I must needs return, whether I will or no, or whether you will or no: and though I see nothing but the top of that Palace where you dwell, I shall come and wander over the tops of those Mountains beyond Orontes to receive that delight. Aglatidas expressed himself so cordially, and with so many raptures of real love, that Amestris was extremely moved: so that not being able to retain her tears, she pulled down her Hood, and making a silent sign with her hand that he should go away, he took her hand, and intended to kiss it, but she hastily pulled it back, as if the hand of Aglatidas, who was (though wrongfully) accused of murder, ought not to touch hers: My heart is so purely innocent Madam, said he, that I did not think my hand could profane yours; yet since you think it so, permit me at the least I beseech you to kiss your garment; and then he stooped with intentions to do so, but Amestris putting forth her hand to forbid him, and Aglatidas seeing her hand so near his mouth could not choose but kiss it, she not being able to prevent him, though by her face she seemed very angry at it. After they were risen up, Is it then your positive pleasure Madam, said he unto her, that I must depart? I wish you might never depart from Ecbatan, answered she; but since the Fate will not handsomely permit it, I would— Amestris stopped at these words; and not being able to speak any more, she made a second sign with her hand, that he should go a way; and so he did, but with so much sorrow in his pace, as a sadder sight could not be seen. Amestris was no less grieved than he; and, as I after understood from Menasta, he was no sooner gone but she threw herself upon her bed, and watered it with a flood of tears, which she restrained as long as we were present.  
After much discourse in Commendations of Aglatidas, Amestris desired Menasta to go with her into the Country, since she was not able to hide her sorrows for the loss of Aglatidas; and without any more delay, it was resolved upon to go the next morning: Menasta went to Aglatidas from Amestris, and charged him not to follow; and Amestris was no sooner gone, but Menasta writ a Letter, which did so fully charge him to obey Amestris, that if Aglatidas had less Love or Reason than he had, he would have punctually obeyed her. In the mean time seeing he was not able to alter the Resolutions of her, who only was able to make him happy, and since he was not able to endure the world, he resolved upon a departure; and presently addressed himself unto Ciaxares, and importuned him to send him unto you Sir, and obtained his desire. Before his departure he was full of many strange designs: for sometimes he thought of killing himself; other times again of fight with Megabises, Artemon, Tharpis, or any Pretender to Amestris: but I was so opposite unto all these fatal Resolutions, that I persuaded him to depart, and let all these violent resolutions alone: sometimes I employed your name Sir, telling him it was more honourable to die in your service, than any other way. But Sir, though Aglatidas went out of Ecbatan at a quite contrary Gate to that which goes unto the place where Amestris was, and intending fully to obey her; yet for his heart he could not; and he was no sooner got some fifty furlongs from Ecbatan, but sending all his men some two days Journey from Ecbatan, he went with one servant only to the place where Amestris was: In the mean while his departure was very welcome news to Megabises, to Tharpis, and to Artemon: It was very pleasant also unto Anatisa, but not so much as to the rest: for her design was only to break off the Marriage, but not to exile Aglatidas; yet her revenge upon a Rival was very sweet, and she was very well pleased with the fruits of her Project: Dinocrates also enjoyed the fruit of those Presents which Tharpis conferred upon him, and was wondrous well contented.  
But Sir, to return to Aglatidas, he went strait unto Amestris to bid his last adieu: She was so ama●ed and infinitely angry at him, that Menasta assured me, he was ready to take horse again, before he had spoke four words; yet by the Rhetoric of some pithy persuasions, he obtained the liberty of an hours Conference, during all which time he could not alter one ●ot of her resolutions: This last parting went nearer the heart than the other, and both of them were in a most lamentable condition: When Aglatidas was gone, Amestris could talk of nothing but his misfortune; and she repeated all the passages of his life, watering his memory with abundance of tears, which trickled down not only her cheeks, but her very neck and breasts. Whilst she was thus sitting and lamenting with Menasta in her Couch, and whilst Menasta was persuading her to moderate her excessive sorrow, they heard a great noise below in the Court, and presently after, hearing the same upon the stairs, and then the Chamber door open suddenly, Amestris saw Ottanus enter, with the same fury he used heretofore, when he brought persecuting resolutions with him.  
Ottanus! said Cyrus in a great amazement, how could Amestris see Ottanus enter, when you say you saw him in the midst of a Torrent, and sink afterwards unto the bottom? Give me but a little patience Sir, said Artaban, and you shall know: But yet I beseech you give me leave to go on with my discourse.  
Ottanus being entered then, as I told you, said Artaban, the sight of him made Menasta cry out, supposing it had been an Apparition; and struck Amestris into such a wonder, that she was not able either to speak or rise up; and it was a long time before they could certainly know whether it was really Ottanus, or his shadow: at last, he looking upon Amestris, whose eyes were swelled with tears, and yet sparkled with rage and fury, and assuming a tone that was able to strike terror into the mind of the boldest and most innocent woman in the world; You have reason, said he unto her, to be troubled at the sight of me, for I should never have returned but to punish you for all your faults at once. Amestris then knowing him to be really Ottanus, and having a little recollected herself, she rise up, and bowed unto him with much reverence, Sir, said she unto him, you have heretofore so well accustomed me to endure injust reproaches, that I have not yet lost the habit of it. Infamous woman, said he unto her, dost thou call the charge of all thy present actions, unjust reproaches? Canst thou believe me dead upon any light report, and not so much as cry? and must I find thy face all swelled with tears now for the absence of thy Lover? Know, that I have been hid six days in Ecbatan, in a place where I have heard of thy intended Marriage, and all thy unworthy and wicked actions; and I came hither to kill Aglatidas before thy face, hearing he was come hither to thee, but since I understand I came a little too late, I find none but thyself to be revenged on. Sir, replied Amestris, since you say yet know all my actions, than you know also, that as soon as Dinocrates told me that Aglatidas killed you in the Wars, I broke off with him, and resolved never to marry him. Yes, replied furious Ottanus, you seem so before the world, but not in private, for if thou hadst, thou wouldst never have come hither. I can assure you Sir, said Menasta, that Amestris did strictly charge Aglatidas never to see her again. And I can assure you, answered Ottanus, that I came hither with intentions, that she never shall see him or you again.  
To relate Sir, all the crabbed passages which Ottanus used, would be to abuse your patience: Let me only tell you, that he spoke as much as jealousy, rage and despair could invent, both against Amestris, against Aglatidas, and against Menasta: Then causing a Coach to be made ready, he forced Menasta to return to Ecbatan, and shut Amestris up in a Chamber with one woman only to wait upon her; threatening her with all imaginable severity: That which did most wonder Amestris was, that she saw out of her window Ottanus treat Dinocrates as formerly. But Sir, since I know you desire to hear of the Resurrection of Ottanus, you, I say, who in the fight did hear it cried, Ottanus is dead, I shall relate what I have heard from several reports: Be pleased to know then, that Ottanus was in the fight that night, and fight next unto an Armenian who was his intimate Crony, he let fall a Bag of Jewels which he had, and stooping to take them up again, this Armenian thought that his reason of stooping was some wound with a Sword, or Javelin, and therefore cried out, Ottanus is dead, though he was not: It is very true, that he had much ado▪ to rise again, because the fight was very hot in that place, and he was several times tumbled over and over: after this, as you know very well Sir, the Armenians were all vanquished, and could not possible recover their Mountains: Moreover, you know Sir, that Phraartes retreated into a little valley, whether you followed him, so that Ottanus saved himself as the rest did: But since he feared nothing more than to fall into the hands of Ciaxares, because he was a Traitor to his Country, and principally because Aglatidas was in his Army, therefore in lieu of going with Phraartes, he stole away, and by the favour of night did hide himself amongst some high Rocks which are close by the side of a River: but because the Arms he wore were very remarkable, he thought it would not be easy for him either to hide himself, or to cross the field in the day time without being stopped: When he saw that none remained in the Valley, whither Phraartes retreated, he found one dead, and changed his rich Arms for those of a common Soldier, and changed all his Clothes also, so that he passed through all our Army without a stop, taken to be one of our Party by reason of his habit; and going on foot to the first Town, there he fell sick.  
But Sir, to satisfy you concerning the mistake of Dinocrates and myself when we saw the Arms of Ottanus on the back of a dead man in the midst of a River: Be pleased to know, that after Ottanus had changed Arms, a Cicilian Soldier going to plunder Clothes amongst the dead, happily light upon these by the help of the Moon, and being ravished at his happy encounter, he put off his own, and put on these: Presently after two other Ecbatan Soldiers met him, who seeing these rich Arms upon his back, would needs be sharers with him; but he denied them, saying, as it may be conjectured, they belonged to him because he found them: yet because they understood not the language of one another, they fell to fight for them; and so near the River, that being wounded he fell into it, and stuck upon the Point of a Rock in the River, where Dinocrates and I saw him the next morning: one of these two Soldiers who fought with him that wore the Arms of Ottanus, being the next morning by the River side, and heard Dinocrates say it was the body of his dead Master, durst not confess what he knew; but being weary of War, and returning to Ecbatan, I entertained him into my service: so that when the return of Ottanus was divulged, and this man hearing me wonder that his Arms should be seen upon a man in the midst of a River, he confessed unto me the whole truth as I have related it unto you.  
But Sir, to return unto Ottanus, whom I told you lay sick in a little Town; be pleased to know, that he was so extremely sick, and continued so so long, that he thought twenty times of death: yet the Gods intending to make a further trial of the constancy of Amestris, they spared him: and when he was well recovered, he bought a horse, (for he had Jewels of sufficient value to supply himself with all accommodations) and departed, not knowing all this while, that the news of his death was carried unto Ecbatan, with so many probable circumstances: And thinking to find Amestris in the same Castle where he left her, he went thither, not daring to return to Ecbatan, unless in a disguise, because he had been in Arms against Ciaxares: But he was much amazed to hear that every one should think him dead, and that Aglatidas was not only in Ecbatan, but ready to marry Amestris: To make you the better apprehend what were the thoughts of Ottanus upon these reports, I need only tell you, that though he was an high Delinquent against the King, and State, yet he resolved to go disguised unto Ecbatan, and hide himself in some secret place where he might know all the actions of Amestris and Aglatidas, to the end he might disturb their felicity when he saw occasion, he disguised himself in the habit of a Merchant, and coming in the night, lodged with one who heretofore had been his Tutor; expressly forbidding him to discover that he was alive: he enquired how the state of all things stood, and understood that the happiness of Aglatidas was prevented by the return of Dinocrates, who arrived two days before him: This news was very agreeable to his fancy, and surprised him, not but being able to imagine why Dinocrates should devise so many lies. However, in this Juncture of things, he resolved to keep close, and hear how Amestris disposed of herself; and since he ever loved Dinocrates, he sent for him to the house where he lay concealed: Dinocrates came accordingly, and Ottanus received him with a thousand welcomes: And though he did not know only why he had vented these lies, yet since they disturb the hopes of Aglatidas and Amestris, in preventing their marriage, he thought himself much obliged unto him. In the mean time, Dinocrates seeing his Master alive, and being of a quick and subtle wit; Sir, said he unto him, I thank the Gods for so happily inspiring me, otherwise you had found Amestris in the Arms of Aglatidas: Then Ottanus asked him, why he had dissembled the truth as he had done. Sir, replied he confidently; hearing at my first coming unto Ecbatan, that Amestris was within three days to marry a man whom I know you hated; I did so much abhor to see she should be so little sensible of her own honour, as to marry Aglatidas, of whom you had so many causes of jealousy, that having in my possession a sword which I knew to be his, I told Amestris, that Aglatidas had killed you with it, thinking that if she had any spark of honour in her, she would never marry him after this: or if she did, I should at least have so much satisfaction, as to see that all your jealousies were not without good ground: you may well conceive Sir, how Ottanus was pleased with Dinoorates, and what rewards he promised him, for that which he had been so well recompensed before by Tharpis.  
In the mean time he understood by him that Aglatidas after this had been with Amestris, at Menasta's house; and before he would show himself unto any others, he would observe a while, whether Amestris was really broken off with Aglatidas, or whether it was only so in show, expressly forbidding Dinocrates to tell any he was alive. And he obeyed him, not speaking of it so much as to Anatisa, or Tharpis: But afterwards, Dinocrates telling his Master, that Amestris and Anatisa were to go into the Country, and that Aglatidas was to depart also, Ottanus thought this to be a business concluded upon between them, and that perhaps they would marry in secret: so that preparing for his departure as well as Aglatidas, he went unto a Wood, by which he imagined he would pass, with intentions not to fall upon him by the way, but to follow him at a distance, & not to show himself until he was come unto the presence of Amestris: But since Aglatidas went out of another Gate, and took another way, Ottanus miss of him; and waited so long as his patience could last, so that he came an hour after Aglatidas was departed: Then coming unto the Court, he asked who was with Amestris, and they answered, no body, but that about an hour before Aglatidas was with her, and now gone: so that coming furiously into her Chamber, as I told you before, he shut up Amestris, he sent away Menasta, and ordered Dinocrates to procure some soldiers to defend him in case the King would arrest him. I shall not lengthen my story, by reason of the excessive sorrows which Amestris and Menasta expressed at parting; but give me leave to tell you, as since she hath told us, that notwithstanding all the hatred which Amestris had of Ottanus, and all those cruel persecutions which she was to expect, she had a secret joy and comfort to see that Aglatidas was just; and that she might without any scruple preserve him in her esteem, and friendship.  
In the mean time, Menasta was no sooner come to Ecbatan, but she sent for me, to tell me Ottanus was living, and returned, and Amestris was prisoner, and perhaps in some danger of her life: I could not believe all this at the first, but seeing so much real sadness in her face, I suspected not the truth of her words: I grieved as well as she; and for Amestris sake I wished that Aglatidas had not been so well justified in her opinion, Then did we consult which way possibly Amestris might be delivered from this tormenting persecution, and considering that Ottanus was an high Delinquent against the King and State, I resolved to advertise Ciaxares that Ottanus was living, and of the place where he was: Amestris approved of my design, and hasted me to put it into execution, because she feared Ottanus would either kill or poison Amestris, so that I went unto the King the very same hour, and knowing his goodness towards Aglatidas, and acquainting him with the place where this Delinquent was, I told him he would perhaps save the life of a Lady whom Aglatidas loved above all the world, if he would punish this Traitor to the State, and himself. Ciaxares no sooner heard my advice and request, but he presently commanded the Lieutenat of his Guard to take some forces with him, and secure the person of Ottanus, and to release Amestris, bringing them all to the Town.  
In the mean time, Menasta published about the Town that Ottanus was alive, and returned; and how he began to persecute Amestris, every one wondered, and could hardly believe it: Tharpis was desperate, Megabises and Artemon were quite down in their fancies: As for Artemon, he no sooner heard how coarsely Ottanus used Amestris, but he resolved to go and see her persecutor, in hopes to qualify his severity, but he found he was mistaken: for since Ottanus knew that not only Aglatidas intended to marry her, but that Megabises, Tharpis, and Artemon also, were in love with her: he received him very ill, and was ready to quarrel with him; though he had hardly any leisure for it, because Artemon was no sooner entered, but the Lieutenant of the Guard followed him with above an hundred man; so that Ottanus found himself in a sad condition, knowing himself to be a Traitor to the State, and seeing he was not able to resist them: Dinocrates, who went to procure some soldiers, was not yet returned: so that having but a few men with him, and they not very affectionate unto him, he knew not what to resolve upon: he had a desire to fly for it, and first perhaps to have killed Amestris, but when he perceived that the Lieutenant of the Guard had seized upon all the passages, he was in such an extreme fury and rage, that Artemon thought (as afterwards he told me) he would immediately have killed himself. In the mean time, the Captain of the Guard demanded entrance, and receiving no satisfactory answer, caused the doors to be broke open, and entered with all his men: Ottanus hearing this noise, went towards the Captain of the Guard with his sword drawn, and Artemon seeing he was not able to defend himself, enterposed between them, but Ottanus struck at Artemon, whilst three of the Guard seized upon him, and his sword: Ottanus finding himself disarmed, and seized upon, vented a thousand most horrible imprecations; However they caused him to go into his Chamber again, until orders was taken for the departure of Amestris, Artemon being a friend unto the Captain of the Guard, went with him unto her Chamber where she was locked up: Madam, said he unto her, since you were pleased to permit me the continuance of friendship, I beseech you permit me that I help to release you: Amestris was so amazed at the great noise, and at the language of Artemon, that she knew not what to answer: But the Lieutenant of the Guard coming to her, and telling her he had orders from the King to carry her unto Ecbatan: She asked him from whence proceeded her liberty, and when she understood that it was by the imprisonment of her Husband, she expressed no joy at the news: However she was put into a Coach with her women, and was waited upon by Artemon, and a dozen Gallants which accompanied him: As for Ottanus he was carried on horseback, and conveyed into a Chamber at Ecbatan, where Traitors to the State used to be put: Never did any thing make a greater noise than this return of Amestris, and the imprisonment of her Husband; I dispatched one of my men immediately towards the Army unto Aglatidas, and went in all haste unto Menasta, to ca●●er unto Amestris.  
In the mean while, Anatisa, who sucked poison for Amestris out of every thing, did report about the Town a very base report, that Amestris had caused her Husband to be imprisoned, and that Aglatidas did lie lurking in some concealedcorner of the Town, whilst he employed all his friends to the King against Ottanus, and an hundred such falsities as these: But this imposture took no deep root, though Amestris never heard of it; for our of a magnanimous generosity she told Menasta and myself, as soon as we came into her Chamber, that she would solicit for the liberty of her Husband; when she told us this, we wondered and endeavoured to hinder her from it, but all in vain; for since she saw there was glory and nobleness in the act, no arguments could dissuade her from it: Then did she assemble together some of her Husband's kindred, who rather in respect of their family, then of any amity to him, did wish him out of prison: Then she and they together did cast down themselves at the feet of Ciaxares, and begged pardon for Ottanus. This Generosity seemed so high, that the King was charmed with it: at the first, ●to try her virtue, he refused, and said, Ottanus was unworthy to be her Husband: yet she seconded her petition with so much spirit, and such pressing importunity, that Ciaxares promised her the life of Ottanus, but as for his liberty he would never consent unto it, until Ottanus did solemnly promise never to carry Amestris out of Ecbatan again, or to use her any ways unkindly: Amestris thanked the King for the cares he had of her, but still humbly desired him to release Ottanus without any conditions at all, yet he would not by any means: since Ottanus was extremely hated, though the goodness of Amestris did solicit for him, yet there was many which did solicit against him, and amongst the rest, one ancient enemy unto his family, did negotiate against him so openly before all the world, that Ottanus himself was acquainted with it.  
The King within a few days after sent for Ottanus into his presence; and after he had told him of his perfidiousness towards him, and his injustice towards Amestris, yet that virtuous Lady notwithstanding all his cruelty to her did with much importunity beg his Life and Liberty: He told him also, that at her request he had consented unto the first of these; but denied her the second, unless he would solemnly promise never to carry Amestris any more into the Country, or any manner of ways use her unkindly: Ottanus hearing the King say so, in lieu of thanking him, or accepting of his offer, was so insolent as to ask whether these Conditions were mentioned by the consent of Amestris? The King wondering at this strange effect of Jealousy, answered him very sweetly, that Amestris on the contrary desired it without any conditions at all: Yet say what the King could, Ottanus could not directly promise it, but asked three days time to consider; during which time doubtless he endured intolerable torment: for he apprehended, that unless he would ruin himself, he must punctually keep promise with Ciaxares, and he perceived by himself that he was so absolutely unable to do it, that he knew not what resolution to pitch upon: yet since present miseries are apt to lay hold upon present remedies, he sent word to the King, that he would promise what he desired, so he might be set at Liberty: he was caused to solemnize this promise with all possible Ceremonies that might make it inviolable, and afterwards he was released, maugre all the secret solicitations of all the Lovers and Friends of Amestris; and maugre all the malice of that declared Enemy unto Ottanus, who opposed it as much as possibly he could. But here Sir, may be admired the contrivances of the Gods: for as soon as Ottanus was out of prison, and had rendered thanks unto Ciaxares, he met with this declared Enemy whom he knew had solicited against him; he began to speak fiercely unto him, and to affront him so far, that he drew his Sword, which moved Ottanus to draw his also, and fight, Ottanus was left dead upon the place, before any could come in to part them: his old Enemy was in little better state than he, for within three days after he died of his wounds; though Amestris out of her constant generosity caused him to be apprehended, and resolved a revenge upon him for the death of her Husband. Since Ottanus was once thought to be dead when, he was not, every one to satisfy their curiosity would see him whether he were really so or no; and to speak the very truth, every one rejoiced at it, except Anatisa, Tharpis, Megabises, and Artemon; for though it be the natural disposition of all Lovers not to grieve for the death of him that enjoyed their Mistress; yet since these three Rivals were sure that Aglatidas would now enjoy her before any of them, they had rather she should have still continued the wife of Ottanus, then become the wife of Aglatidas. All this while Amestris carried herself according to her accustomed modesty and wisdom: But that Dinocrates might be punished for all his knavery at once, it chanced that coming one night to Ecbatan to fetch away all that he had there, intending to change his habitation (for he had heard of his Master's imprisonment, when he was bringing Soldiers secretly unto his house) he met, the night after Ottanus was killed, a servant belonging to Aglatidas, who knowing him by the help of a Candle which accidentally passed by, did assault him so vigorously, that Dinocrates flying away, and not knowing what he did, came to save himself in my Lodging, where he fell, being wounded in three places, just as I entered: But though I knew him, yet since he fled into my house for sanctuary, I myself stopped the servant of Aglatidas which followed him, who out of respect to me retreated: yet his life could not be saved, for he died within six days after: yet before he died, he confessed many things, which I was very desirous to know, amongst the rest, the plot of Anatisa and Tharpis. In the mean while I was vexed to the heart that I could hear no news of Aglatidas, of whom I durst never speak unto Amestris, but continually unto Menasta: But at the last, he whom I sent unto him returned, and told me it was long before he could find him, and at last found him sick of extreme sorrow three days journey from Ecbatan. Then Sir, to trespass no longer upon patience, let me in short tell you, that the news of Ottanus his death was such a present cure of Aglatidas, that within eight days he was able to take horse: Before he would come into Ecbatan he sent me unto the King to obtain permission to return, with as much earnestness as he asked to depart; commanding me to acquaint Ciaxares with the true cause of his departure, and desire of return: Then went I presently unto the King, who was most willing to do any thing in advantage of Aglatidas, and assured me that he would persuade Amestris not to be over ceremonious in her mourning for Ottanus; but it was not possible to obtain it of her: for notwithstanding all the requests and desires of Ciaxares, of Menasta, of Aglatidas, and myself, she would by all means continue out the time of mourning according to the Custom of Ecbatan. In the mean time, to prevent all new misfortunes, Ciaxares gave express command unto all the Rivals of Aglatidas, never to think any more of Amestris, and that so absolutely, that they were forced to yield obedience. After this, I shall not need to tell you Sir, how great was the joys of Aglatidas and Amestris, not how blank all the Rivals were, nor how furious Anatisa was, for if I should, the day would be too short to relate them all: But give me leave to tell you, that as soon as Amestris had left off her mourning, the day of Marriage was appointed; all the Gallants of the Town came to the Feast; all her rejected Lovers absented themselves as well as Anatisa; our two happy Lovers swimmed in a Sea of Joys, and were married in the presence of the King and all the Court. After this Sir, I have no more to tell you, but that though Aglatidas does love Amestris much more than ever he did, yet the love of Glory, and the honour to serve you Sir, is so prevalent with his Soul, that he most willingly accepted of the employment which Ciaxares conferred upon him, to bring ten thousand men unto you: though let me also tell you Sir, that he did not leave Amestris without abundance of sorrow; and I can assure you, that as we conducted this fair and admirable Lady a days Journey from Ecbatan, (for she resolved to spend all her time of absence from her husband in the Province of the Arisantines) I saw them both as sad, as before they were full of joy. And so Sir, you shall see Aglatidas again both a Husband and a Lover as unquiet and reserved as he used to be.  
I thank the Gods (said Cyrus, when Artaban had ended) that Aglatidas has no other torments then such as absence causes; and I wish with all my heart (said he and sighed) that all those who love him, may one day be in the same condition that he is. After this Cyrus 〈…〉 illustrious Friend, the novelty and strangeness of which he could not cause but admise: Then was he forced to break off further Conversation, because he was told that the King of Phrigia and the King of Hyrcania had some business of importance to communicate unto him: So that he embraced Artaban, and went out of that Room into another, where those two Princes, accompanied with Tigranes, Phraartes, Artamas, Persodes, and many others, expected him; and that with so much Majesty, as it can hardly be imagined that a Prince of so high a Soul should be so sweet as to hearken unto a long amorous Discourse, in which he had no other interest, then as relating unto a man whom he loved, unless it were by comparing the torments which other Lovers suffer, with those which he endured for Mandana.   
The End of the Second Book.   

ARTAMENES, OR CYRUS the GREAT. The Fourth Part. BOOK III.  
WHen Cyrus came unto those Princes which expected him, the King of Phrygia told him, that the Lacedæmonians had contracted alliance with Craessus, and that he thought fit to acquaint him with it. The King of Hyrcania also informed him, that the Thracians and Egyptians did arm themselves in the King of Lydia's quarrel. As for the Lacedæmonians, replied Cyrus, I do not wonder they should do so, since it had been most unjust in them to deny aid to a Prince who did so liberally furnish them with as much gold as they stood in need of, to make that prodigious Statue of Apollo, which in my Travels I saw near the Mount Thornax in Laconia: But as for the King of Egypt, I do not see any reason he hath to contract alliance with Croesus, or why he should decline Ciaxares. But however, said he, the more enemies we have to fight against, the more glory we shall have in overcoming them: This huge body of strange Troops will do them no other service but sow divisions amongst them, and put their Army in disorder; for it is impossible that men who fight after different orders, should in so short a time be conformable unto one and the same discipline. After this Cyrus acquainted them with the fresh supplies which Ciaxares had sent him by Aglatidas: So that rousing up their hearts by the sprightfulness of his own courage, the same spirit which he infused into these Kings, they also infused unto the Captains, and the Captains unto the Soldiers; so that the great noise which all the preparations of Croesus did make, and was spread amongst them, did not at all astonish them, and they never dispaired of victory, as long as the illustrious Cyrus commanded them. Their impatience to fight, though the Spring was near, yet it made them think it long in coming: The Persians prayed unto the Sun, which they adore, to be swifter in its course for their sakes; the Medeans were no less importunate with their gods; and such was the zeal of every Nation in particular, to see their illustrious General at an end of all his travels by the defeat of Croesus and liberty of Mandana, that they presented their prayers unto their gods to bring them unto a speedy fight. As for Artamas, he was extremely impatient to see the Princess Palmis out of captivity. As gallant as he was, he did not desire it should be obtained by battle; for though Craessus had treated him very hardly, yet could he not wish his overthrow. In the mean time the Prince of Phraartes went very often to visit the Princess Araminta, who was much displeased that he should continue loving her, since she had said as much as any sprightly and virtuous Lady could do to make him desist. A few days after Aglatidas arrived with his fresh Auxiliaries: Cyrus received him with so many expressions of love, that Aglatidas did most obligingly desire him not to lay any greater load upon him, lest his heart should not be able to contain his excessive joys. But Cyrus, thinking a man that was so far from her he loved, as he was, could never die with overmuch joy, did still press upon him with a hundred most obliging expressions, and assured him that Amestris was not more sad in parting with him, than he was glad to embrace him. Afterwards being desirous to view those Forces which he had brought up, and which Aglatidas had left in Battalia some twelve furlongs from the Camp, Cyrus with many of great quality went unto the place where they were, and standing upon a little hill he viewed them, and found them to be handsome and well armed men: So that being very well pleased with them, he appointed them their Quarters, and returned unto his Tent to talk with Aglatidas, not only of Ciaxares from whom he brought Letters, but also of all their misfortunes both past and present. Within two days after Aglatidas arrived, Artabases, whom Cyrus sent into Persia to the King his father and the Queen his mother, returned back, Madates still staying with Ciaxares. He received him with as much joy as his soul was capable of, considering the state in which Mandana was, since he brought Letters from two such as he did most highly reverence: He read these Letters with much delight; when he found they contained that Pardon which he desired, expressed in such tender and obliging terms, as did let him plainly see that Fame had spoke unto them in his behalf. Artabases told him so many things from them, as did let him see they had great and heroic souls: He was also loaded with most magnificent Presents for Cyrus from them; and moreover assured him, that Cambyses would presently make new Levies to send unto him. So that when Cyrus did divulge this report unto his Army, the Soldiers roused up fresh hearts. Artabases also brought another Letter from the Queen of Persia unto Chrisantes, which intimated, that in lieu of quarrelling with him for so long concealing her son, she gave him many thanks for bringing him so well up. A few days after, Timocreon and Tegeus understood by those whom they sent unto Sardis, that the Princess Mandana and the Princess Palmis would certainly be brought thither: That a chamber was making ready in the Citadel for the Princess Palmis, and another in the King's Palace for the Princess Mandana; and that as near as they could guests, they would be conducted thither within 15 or 20 days; and that Croesus intended they should come by a way which should almost always have the River Hermes between them and the Army of Cyrus. This intelligence was confirmed the same day by the return of Feraulas, who reported how the friends of Meneceus assured him, that within fifteen or twenty days the King of Pontus would carry the two Princesses unto Sardis; though he caused it to be published in Ephesus, that they would not carry them, until all the Army of Craessus was come together, the Rendezvous whereof was to be upon the banks of Pactolus. Feraulas, having been happier in his negotiations then heretofore, found out a way by the addresses of a friend unto Meneceus, sister unto Agisistrata, to send a Letter unto Martesia, and to receive her Answer, which he showed unto his dearest Master: for since he had not writ unto her, but for him, he therefore had as much share in it as himself. So that after he had rendered him a full account of every thing, he showed him this Letter which contained these words.  
MARTESIA unto FERAULAS.  
THE person of whom you spoke unto me being still the same she used to be, that is, the wise 〈…〉 and justest in the world, you may assure your illustrious Master that he need not to fear any thing, but still may hope for all that concerns her: O I wish unto the Gods, that fortune would put no other obstacle unto his happiness! For as much as concerns you, since I am persuaded that it depends upon him, it is sufficient that I tell you I have contributed as much as is in my power to make him happy, since I do every day pray unto the Gods that he may speedily triumph over all his Enemies.  
MARTESIA.  
This Letter caused more joy in Cyrus then he was able to express, though he did secretly murmur a little, that the Princess did not so much as write one word with her own hand in this Letter; yet seriously considering all circumstances, he was not angry at all, and thought himself as happy to know her thoughts by Martesia, as a common Lover would have been in the enjoyment of his Mistress: It is an infallible testimony of a real and high passion, to be most sensible of the least favours; and so, since that of Cyrus was the most violent and tender that ever any was, he apprehended the most inconsiderable circumstance which proceeded from Mandana, with an ecstasy of joy; for he imagined that Martesia had not writ any thing in this Letter, without the Princess knowledge and approbation, and he was as tender and dear of it, as if she had writ it herself: However, to lose no longer time in unprofitable imaginations, but the sooner to Procure the liberty of his Princess, he assembled the King of Assiria, the King of Phrigia, the King of Hyrcania, the Prince Artamas, Tigranes, Phraartes, and several other of quality together, intending to consult with them upon the best expedients for it.  
Artamas, who till then had ever a great respect of Croesus, considering now that he intended to continue the imprisonment of the Princess Palmis, since she was to be lodged in a Citadel, and not in the Palace of the King her father, he was so violently desirous to prevent her coming into that Prison, out of which he himself came, that he desired pardon of Cyrus, if he delivered his opinion the first; for being fully persuaded that none could propose a way so expedient as himself, he thought himself excusable for assuming that liberty. Cyrus and the King of Assiria hearing him speak so zealously, did both of them assure him, that they would most willingly hearken unto him: So that Artamas told them, how since the King of Pontus was to conduct the Princesses on the other side of the River Hermes, he hoped that they should be able to pass over that River without any opposition, because the Governor of that Castle which stands at the end of that bridge over that River, and is of the same name, is so absolutely for him, that he does not think he will deny him any thing: Moreover, he knew there was some discontent between that Governor and the King of Lydia, who intended to put him out of his Government: So that, said he to them, if that bridge can be obtained, and since the wood which I already told you off is not above thirty furlongs from thence, it will be a short cut for us to be there in convenient time, when we shall have intelligence that the Princesses are to pass. Cyrus' finding much reason in the advice of Artamas; it was resolved, That without any further delay, to send and make sure of this Governor, and after that, when they should receive further intelligence from the friends of Meneceus of the prefixed day when these Princesses and their convoy should set out, that then they would the same hour set out with equal, or rather stronger number than those of the King of Pontus, to execute this glorious enterprise: for they might the more easily effect it, because they were nearer that place when they were to pass over the River Hermes, by a days journey then Ephesus was. The thing then being thus resolved upon, it was thought the best expedient, that Artamas should send one of his own servants to negotiate with this beforenamed Governor: But Love was so violent in the soul of that Prince, that he would not trust the transaction of a business upon which the liberty of the Princess Palmis depended, unto any other than himself. So that not imparting his design unto any but Sosicles, he disguised himself the night following, and went to act what himself had proposed, leaving a Letter for the King his father, by which he desired pardon for undertaking this business, without first ask his leave; for fearing lest he should deny him, he would rather run the hazard of his displeasure, then ruin a design upon which the happiness both of Cyrus and himself did so absolutely depend. The King of Phrygia was at the first a little angry with the Prince his Son; but Cyrus did so highly commend the act, that he durst not openly show his anger. In the mean time, they which commanded in the Frontier quarters towards Lydia, were making continual incursions upon the enemy; and not a day passed, but they had some skirmishes, in which they got good plunder, which did animate the hearts of the Soldier to fight: Cyrus never reserved any thing of what they got, but the glory, and the Prisoners, to the end he might release them; yet did he so largely recompense those which took them, that what ransom soever the Prisoners were to give, they had it all with advantage. Chrisantes, who commanded in the utmost quarter, understanding by his Scouts, that two hundred of the enemy's horses were guarding a Coach full of Ladies, going towards the Castle of Hermes, intending to pass the River there; he commanded out four hundred horse to intercept them, conceiving that the inequality of number would effect it, and indeed so it succeeded: Though he who commanded those two hundred horse did most gallantly behave himself, but his timorous followers forsaking him, he was forced to render himself, desiring Chrisantes that he would let the Prince Artamas know that he was a Prisoner unto Cyrus, and that he might obtain so much favour from him, as that these Ladies which he conducted might be carried unto the Queen of Susiana: Chrisantes was too gallant a man to treat so brave an enemy (as he found him) ill; and told him, that according to the Laws of war, he must carry him to Cyrus, but promised to obtain of him what he desired: In the mean time Chrisantes did provide the most convenient lodgings that he could for those Ladies, amongst which one of them was a most ravishing beauty; and the next morning himself did Conduct these Prisoners unto Cyrus: But in going thither, they were to pass through a little town where the Queen of Susiana, and the Princess Araminta was, and they went by the Temple there, just as those Princesses were coming out of it: Chrisantes out of his respects unto them, made a halt, and the coach in which the Captive Ladies were, stayed, and one of them knowing Panthea, cried out so loud, as that Princess turning towards her, looked seriously upon, and knew her; And being well acquainted with Chrisantes, she sent unto him, desiring the favour that she might speak with those Ladies which he conducted: And since he was not ignorant what Respects Cyrus would have rendered unto that Queen, he went himself unto her, and said he would bring them unto her house, as soon as she should be there; and he was giving orders accordingly for it, when news was brought him that Cyrus was coming to see Panthea, and the Princess Araminta: So that Chrisantes seeing the disposition was no more in him, since his Master was present, he left the Queen, who was going into her Coach, and went to acquaint Cyrus with her desire: This Prince then, passing by the Captive Ladies, saluted them with as much civility as if they had not been Prisoners at all; and going strait to the Queen of Susiana, with whom the Princess Araminta was, Madam, said he unto her, and bowed down to the very ground, you will find more conveniency at your own house then here, to entertain these Ladies which are of your acquaintance; Panthea then commanding they should obey Cyrus, went to her own Lodging, and the Coach in which the Captive Ladies were, followed hers: In the mean while Chrisantes presenting his Prisoner unto his Prince; Sir, said he unto him, this enemy which you see here, is questionless worthy of your protection, since he assures me that the Prince Artamas is his friend: if so, said Cyrus, and embraced him, I am sure to be his also, since I think myself obliged to love all that he loves. That honour, sir, replied the Prisoner, would be too great for me; and it would be enough if you will be pleased in consideration of him, to treat those Ladies whom I conducted with all civility: The consideration of the Queen of Susiana, replied Cyrus, without any addition of the Prince Artamas, is sufficient to oblige me unto it; and your own merit, without that Prince, is also enough to make me your honourer; for finding by your face, that you are a man of quality and spirit, and understanding by Chrisantes, that you have as much soul and heart as a man can have, there needs no more to induce me to it; and to let you see I am serious before I certainly know what you are, pray go with me to your Ladies, who are with the Queen of Susiana: In saying so, they alighted from their horses, and went unto Panthea's chamber, whom he found full of expressions of friendship and affection unto one of those Prisoners: My dear Cleonice, said she unto her, am I so happy, as once to see you again? And can I grieve for your imprisonment, since it makes my own more sweet? Madam, replied Cleonice, the loss of my liberty shall delight me, if it can any way add unto your happiness: however, it is not long of your illustrious Conqueror (said she, and looked upon Cyrus) that my Captivity is not sweet unto me: Cyrus answered Panthea, according to his ordinary generosity. After this, that Princess told him, how the father of this fair prisoner was born her subject, since he was the subject of Clasomenes, although he dwelled at Ephesus; and told him further, that she had known Cleonice a long time, and loved her exceedingly, and that she was of a most sweet condition; conjuring him to let her be with her, and all the Ladies in her company also, though she knew none of them. Cyrus' consented unto all her desires; telling her, they should have their liberty, if he did not think, their presence would be more pleasing to her, and would divert her: Afterwards Cyrus asked that Lady whose name was Cleonice, whether she was any friend unto the Prince Artamas, thinking it impossible but she must needs know him by the famous name of Cleander. Sir, answered she, and blushed, I am a debtor unto that honour which I have, to be known unto the generous Ligdamis (and pointed with her hand unto that prisoner which Chrisantes took) and I make no question, but when by his mediation, Artamas shall know we are in your fetters, he will obtain so much favour from you, as that our chains may be as light, as the Laws of War will permit. The illustrious Cyrus (said the Princess Araminta, and interrupted her) does not use to impose heavy ones upon his prisoners; for he is much more observant unto the Laws of Generosity, than the Laws of which you speak: Whilst Araminta was speaking thus, Panthea looked upon Ligdamis, and thought she should remember the name; then addressing herself to him, I pray Sir tell me, said she, and smiled, whether your father be not Governor of the Castle of Hermes? and whether you are not that same Ligdamis, whom reports say, does make a public profession to be a declared enemy of Love, and to all them that are in love? Madam, replied he, doubtless I am the man you mean, though I am not the same I was▪ Leonice blushed at the answer of Ligdamis, but to turn it as handsomely as she could, she said, when none asked her, that one of her Cousins being sick in the Country, she durst not venture to go from Ephesus unto her, if Ligdamis had not offered to guard her and one of his sisters, which she showed unto Panthea, who indeed was very fair: Cyrus knowing by this discourse the name and quality of his prisoner, did use him more civilly than before, conceiving it might advantage the design of Artamas: So that after a long visit unto these fair Prisoners, he left them with Panthea; and charged Araspes to treat them with all possible sweetness and courtesy: As for Ligdamis, he carried him with him, assuring the Ladies that he would be as careful of him, as Panthea could be of them; and indeed in their return unto the Camp they talked together, and Cyrus to testify how dear the friends of Artamas were unto him, he let him have his liberty upon his parole, and told him he should have no other guards upon him but his own generosity: Ligdamis returned thanks with all imaginable submission and reverence, and made the greatness of his soul so fully appear by his judicious answers, that Cyrus to his honour said, That he never esteemed any in all his life so much in so little a time: When he was come into his Tent, he bad Feralus make much of Ligdamis, as of one whose friendship he desired to gain: In the mean time, as he had observed some words which Ligdamis uttered, and that Cleonice blushed twice when he was spoken of; so he imagined, or indeed knew that they were in love with one another: yet to clear the matter, he appointed Chrisantes to bid Araspes, as he returned to his quarter, to inquire as well as he could, whether Ligdamis was not in love with Cleonice, and inform him, for it would be of concernment to know it: and to tell him further, that if he could not find it out any other way, then to go unto the Queen of Susiana from him, and entreat her to let him understand what she knew concerning it; also to assure her, that it might chance so to fall out, that by the knowledge of it, the war of Lydia might be composed without fight, so that by the same consequence her dear Abradates would not be in any danger. Chrisantes was punctual in his obedience, and acquainted Araspes with their Prince's desire: Araspes, though he was full of obedient desires, yet he thought his task very hard, since he had none but prisoners to inquire of: and it was to be imagined, that though he did put the question unto any of them, yet they would never tell him; so that he thought the best way would be to make address unto the Queen of Susiana first: and accordingly he went unto her chamber, where he found Leonice with her; but which way soever he turned his discourse, he could not discover any thing of his desires; so that he was forced to acquaint Panthea in a low voice with the orders he received from Cyrus, telling her that it did exceeding concern him to know the relations between Ligdamis and Cleonice. The Queen of Susiana hearing this, told him, that she knew nothing concerning Ligdamis, more than this, that when she came from Susa, he was such a professed enemy unto Love, that it was to be supposed he never would become a Lover; yet, said she, since I know that this curiosity in Cyrus is not without good ground, although I cannot understand it, yet I will promise him to inquire further; which that I may the better do, it is requisite that Cleonice and I be in private together: and in order to that, do you retire yourself, and take such a course, as none come in to interrupt us: In obedience thereunto, Araspes went out, as if Panthea had sent him unto some place: Then after much other common discourse, Panthea asked Cleonice, whether Ligdamis did still continue in his heretical opinion concerning Love? Truly, replied Cleonice, he is very good company; that is not an answer unto my question, answered Panthea; for I would know whether he be still an enemy to Love and all Lovers. Cleonice blushed extremely at this question, and half laughing, replied, since I was not the Confident of Ligdamis, when I had the honour to see you last, I know no reason you have, Madam, to ask me any such question: I ask it, answered the Queen of Susiana, because if Ligdamis do ever love any, it must needs be you. You have an ill opinion of his judgement then, replied Cleonice: No, replied Panthea, but on the contrary, a very good one, and that's the reason why I ask the question. But the truth is, Cleonice, I have a great desire to know the history of your life, since it is along time since I had the happiness to see you: Truly, Madam, replied she, you have most absolute power over me, though I must tell you it will trouble me to obey you in this: If you have any of your friends with you, replied Panthea, who is acquainted with it, let her take that pains, and I am contented to save you the labour; you would much oblige me, Madam, answered she, if you would be pleased to save us all that trouble: But the Queen of Susiana, seeing she was unwilling, was more importunate than before: So that Cleonice conceiving that the credit which this wise Queen had with Cyrus might be advantageous unto Ligdamis, if she were acquainted with the interest she had in him, resolved to obey her. But since her modesty would not give her leave to tell the story of herself: Madam, said she unto Panthea, I could well enough relate my own thoughts unto you, but I cannot so well tell you the thoughts of Ligdamis; therefore I beseech you permit one that is both a friend unto him and unto me, relate what you so much desire to know. Panthea consented unto the motion, and Cleonice calling for this friend of Ligdamis and hers, who was called Ismenea, she conjured her to satisfy the curiosity of Panthea; after which, she went unto the rest of her company, which came with her, whilst Ismenea began her story thus:  

The History of Ligdamis and Cleonice.  
SInce I know that Cleonice has the honour to be known unto your Majesty, I need not speak any thing of her quality: But, Madam, since I know that she departed from Clasemone very young, to come and dwell at Ephesus; and since that time, she never had the honour to see you, unless at some short voyages which she made unto Sardis whilst you were there, I think it not impertinent to tell you, what humour she appeared to be of unto us, when she came to dwell in our Town. Doubtless you remember, Madam, that at that time Ephesus was one of the most pleasant Towns of all Asia; for when you came thither to visit the Temple of Diana, I remember you gave that Character of it, though you did not stay there above four or five days. And truly, he who is the Governor of it, is so gallant a man, and Polixenida his wife, is a Lady of such an excellent spirit, that they do much contribute unto the delights of all the people: and this Court, though less tumultuous than that of Sardis, yet is it more delightsome. You know, Madam, that when the father of Cleonice, left Clasamone to come and inhabit at Ephesus, she was not above fifteen years old; and questionless you have not forgotten that Stenobea her mother was a gallant and virtuous Lady, and one who hath been very fair, and yet was reasonably still: So that when she came to Ephesus, she courted the world, as much as the world courted Cleonice, who indeed did appear like a new and glorious star, which eclipsed all the rest. You may well imagine then, that she being so admirably fair, and besides that, having the advantage of novelty, she did infinitely please: So that since Stenobea did forbid no company coming to her, resort thither was greater than unto any house in all Ephesus whatsoever: The lustre of the daughter's beauty, did draw all the complete gallants of the Town thither. Every one was ambitious of the honour to be her first servant, and pay her his first services: That quality which did most take those that saw her, was their observance that she knew her beauty, and was not proudly affected with it: and though she was one of the most sweet and civil Ladies upon the earth, yet she was so out of a natural inclination, and not out of any design to please or take others who came unto her: She took her pleasures as other did, but she did not greedily seek after them; and though she had one of the most charming wits of the world, yet did she rather endeavour to hide some part, then to show all the rules of it; nor did I ever in my life meet with any, who knew better how to speak well, or how to be silent with less pain, than she did. Thus, Madam, you see a perfect description of Cleonice, at her first coming unto Ephesus: The Mother sought after all pleasures, and all pleasures sought after the incomparable daughter. Be pleased to know, Madam, that there was then at Ephesus a Beauty, who bore the name of Artelinda, and one who was of a good quality; and to speak the very truth as it is, there was so many charms in every part of her, and such a sweetness in all her actions, as whosoever looked upon her, could not choose but love her: for their was such an obliging and captivating quality in her taking eyes, as made all hearts her own, before they knew where they were, or could consult with their reason, at the least, that great number of her lovers said so, to justify their passions: And, Madam, to describe Artelinda the better unto you, for she has so great a share in this history, as I must needs let you perfectly know her. Be pleased to know further of her, that never was such a proud insulting Minx as she was: for she would not only gain the hearts of her Lovers by her beauty and her wit; but also by all her endeavours, by her complacency and civility; and then when any of her private particular friends did contend with her, she would mock them; and jeeringly say, That as ambitious people think they can never get a Crown at too dear a rate; so one can never take too much pains to get a heart: and as Conquerors do always talk of their victories, but never speak of the pains they took, so would she brag of the hearts she had got, but never remember the cares and troubles which they cost her; and truly, I believe Artelinda was never melancholy, but when a day passed over her head, in which she had not made some new conquest: yet be pleased to know, Madam, that this Lady had a mother called Anaxippa, as wise and discreet a mother as ever was, one whose virtue was a little too severe, and condemned all innocent Recreations, and who had educated her daughter in so great a constraint, that no such things as diversions were ever named or heard of: And indeed, if Stenobea had been the mother of Artelinda, and Anaxippa the mother of Cleonice, there had been far greater suitableness amongst those four persons: For the frollique and gallant humour of Stenobea made Cleonice often think time to be very tedious: and Stenobea would often complain against the too serious disposition of her daughter, and chide her for it secretly: Anaxippa could not endure the gadding humour of Artelinda; and Artelinda could not abide the strict severity of Anaxippa: The one would be continually in the Temple, at her prayers; the other would be always abroad to see and be seen: however, Cleonice and Artelinda were near neighbours, and visited one another very often; and the contrariety of disposition which was between them, and which in probability would have prevented frequency of visits, was a cause of their ofter being together then any others: For since Artelinda found always more company at Stenobea's house, then at her mothers, she went thither very often; and since Cleonice found less company at Anaxippa's house, than her mothers, she was there as oft as she could; so that these two beauties of contrary humours were almost continually together: Stenobea was glad that Cleonice was often with Artelinda, hoping she would drive her out of her serious and melancholy mood; and Anaxippa also was well pleased that her daughter should be ever in the company of Cleonice, hoping her modest and fevere example would correct the giddy inclination of the other. Thus did Cleonice seek her solitude at Anaxippa's houses, and Artalinda seek her servants at Stenobea's. Cleonice endeavoured to reclaim Artelinda from her gadding humours, and from letting her chief felicity consist in conquering of hearts without number or choice; or having no other design in it but the vainglory to make all that look on her in love with her. Yet Ligdamis was to be excepted, for she could never subject him with all her arts, do what she could: for the truth was, Ligdamis never loved any, and in all likelihood never would; and though he was a most accomplished gallant, yet was he so resolutely opposite unto that passion, that he not only would never be in love, but also would never love those that were; and upon that score he broke off with an old friend called Phocylides, because he was of the same disposition as Artelinda; and he had professed service to as many several Ladies, as she had captivated servants. Thus, Madam, you see the humours of these four persons, which were most spoke of in Ephesus. Ligdamis a most accomplished gallant, was esteemed by all, though he would be a friend but unto very few, nor would he love any at all: Phocylides he fell in love with all the Ladies in the Town, at least seemed so: Artelinda had many Lovers, and would have had all: And Cleonice without any intentions to captivate any at all, did captivate many; and the truth is, if she would have given entertainment unto all that addressed themselves unto her, the Empire of Artelinda had been ruined; but she carried herself with so much wisdom and discretion, and was neither severe nor lavish of her favours; so that she rid herself of that multitude of Lovers which were of Artelinda's humour, and she did so publish it, that her heart should be hard to conquer, as there was very few in all the Town, who durst have so good an opinion of themselves, as to attempt it: Many a Lover sighed at it, but sighed in secret; yet one, whose name was Hermodorus, was to be excepted, for he did absolutely quit the service of Artelinda, and devoted himself and all his services wholly unto Cleonice: but she had no fancy at all unto him: and the jocund humour of her mother was so averse unto her disposition, that she did not at all answer his addresses, but lived in Ephesus with so great an indifferency, that she could be compared unto none but Ligdamis, who did sometimes see her. In the mean time, since it were strange that friendship between two of such contrary humours as hers and Artelinda's, should last long, Cleonice, as I told you before, would attempt to alter Artelinda, and would persuade her, that she did injure her own beauty, by suffering so many to hope for the enjoyment of her heart: For truly (said Cleonice unto her, one day when they were alone together) you can never make me believe, that this multitude of Lovers which wait upon you in the Temples, in the Streets, in the Walks, and in every house unto which you go, would ever wait, and so obsequiously follow you, without some hopes: and I can never believe they can have any hopes, unless you yourself did give them life: For to speak sincerely unto you, I see some of your adorers such ill-favoured men, that they can never flatter themselves so much as to hope for any thing from you, unless you did flatter them, and beget those hopes in their hearts. I do ingeniously confess, answered Artelinda, that I do so; for it is one of my best recreations to deceive men by fooling so with them, that they should believe I love them. But, replied Cleonice, do you call that fooling, when you are in such earnest, as you make them believe they are in possession of your heart, and must hereafter, perhaps, be of your person also? Oh Cleonice, said Artelinda, you go a little too far! the most favourable action that I afforded my most esteemed Lover, can never move such a wicked thought in him. I believe I am not deceived so much as you are, replied Cleonice; for since it is commonly seen, that Lovers will hope even in the midst of the most severe behaviour towards them, how can you imagine that men who are loaded with favours, will not hope for any thing? No, no, replied Artelinda, mistake me not, I am not so lavish of my favours, as to loaden any with them; and if I were not afraid you would disclose my secrets, I would discover the bottom of my heart unto you, to the end I may justify myself in your opinion: But my dear Cleonice, I am very much afraid, that if I should discover my thoughts unto you, I should myself lose my Empiredome over so many hearts: for if you should but join a little cunning unto those charming features in your face, I were absolutely undone, since I am certain all my servants would then be wholly yours. You are so used to flatter, replied Cleonice, that you flatter even your very friends; but Artelinda, that is not my desire: however, to put you out of all fears, I do faithfully promise you never to make any use of your secret, and therefore be not afraid to disclose your reasons unto me, if you have any that can persuade there is any delight to be taken in being courted by a hundred servants whom you neither love nor esteem; for it is not credible you can at one and the same time love fair men, black men, great men, little men, men that are serious, others that are frolic, some that are pleasant and sprightly, others that are Clowns, Blockheads and Fools: I say it is altogether impossible, that all these can ever have any place in your heart. It is most true, replied Artelinda, and I assure you I do not desire they should. But why then, replied Cleonice, do you oblige them so much, since you do not love them? Because I would have the pleasure of being beloved, answered she; for truly, Cleonice, what is beauty good for, unless to captivate hearts, and to erect an Empire, without a Sceptre, or Throne, or Crown, and yet one gets abundance both of subjects and slaves? But they are slaves, replied Cleonice, which are not serviceable, but in hopes to reign, and who puts you to a great deal of trouble to gild over their fetters: for my part, said she, if ever I take any delight in captivating any, my fetters should be so harsh and heavy, that I should never doubt of their fidelity who submitted to them. If I had any design to recompense them after their patience, said Artelinda, I should do so also: but since my ends are only to divert myself, it would not be just to loaden them with such severities. However, Artelinda, replied Cleonice, you do expose yourself to a world of censures and dangerous consequences. But wherein am I in any fault? replied she. You are to blame in receiving Letters, answered Cleonice, and in answering some of them; you are continually abroad to see and be seen, you appoint secret meetings, and fail not to observe them; and though I know all this be but to talk two or three words in private, and to make a great secret of a business of nothing; yet for all that, it is an appointment, it is a secret; it is made a mystery, and by consequence a crime; because to speak the truth, Innocency seeks no such Corners, but is open and free in all her actions. Moreover, you use to receive and send many tokens; you suffer them to steal your Picture, and sometimes gives it: and as for Ribbons and such fantastical fooleries, there is not so many colours as you have given favours: I am not so much in fault as you conceive me, replied she; for there is not a man amongst them all, which can brag of any favour that ever I gave them, which in any reason deserved the name of a salt; for truly, I cannot call any of those which you have reckoned up by that name: nor can I see there is more sin in them, than there is in dressing myself, or curling my hair: for thereby we use to procure love; and by all those ways for which you chide me thus, I do no more but catch some few heart, which would not be captivated by bare beauty only: Is not that enough? replied Cleonice: what would you do more? I would interrupt the courtship of all others, answered she; make Wives and Mistresses full of jealousy, be loved of every one that looks upon me, move hopes and fears when I list, have a hundred divertisments to choose of, make men compose Eulogies and Verses in my commendation, that they talk of nothing but me, and follow me into all places; and after all this, I will not engage my heart any further than I please myself in hearing others sigh; and the truth is, I do love the gallantry, but not the gallant: There is too much danger in that, replied Cleonice; for in the end your heart will be captivated before you are aware: Your cold reservedness (replied Artelinda, and laughed) does much more expose you unto that danger, than I am: I, I say, who am so accustomed unto tears and sighs, that my heart is not moved at them: but you who are so severe, you will never admit of any such things; if once a confident bold Lover chance to court you close, and force you to hearken unto him, alas, two or three tears will mollify your heart; or to speak more properly, will kindle such fire in it, as will make you love him, as well as you are beloved, and perhaps better: but pray Cleonice, tell me, What will you do with those fair eyes which the Gods have given you? I will observe, and wonder with them, replied she, how artificially you use yours, and take all that comes near you: yet for all that Artelinda, there is not one amongst all such kind of Lovers as these, amongst ten thousand, that will make a good husband. Sooner than amongst those of your serious disposition, replied she; for to tell you truly, I am so afraid to meet with one of my mother's humour, that I am almost resolved never to have any at all: Do not think Artelinda (replied Cleonice) that youth will last ever. The antipathy between old age and young gallantry is so great, that nothing can be more opposite: and what will you do when all your gallants forsake you? Never look so far before (answered she) for as for my part, I promise you I never will; nor will I be too prudent, lest I be too miserable: I will look in my glass, and when the Roses and Violets of my time begin to fade, I will sit down, and set my heart at rest: If soldiers should continually contemplate upon all the dangers that the fate of war may bring upon them, there would be but few conquerors, or conquered. But the conquests of your eyes, replied Cleonice, have so bad a title, that I can hardly call them conquests: However, they are conquests (answered she) and admit I do lose part of those hearts which I have subjected, yet the honour is no less. Seriously, replied Cleonice, I am afraid you will never alter your mind. No, no, sincerely, answered Artelinda, I never shall: Why, do not you think my life is more pleasant than yours? and do you not repent of your too serious gravity? No, no, replied she, I do not, nor desire I to be of your temper; nor I of yours, replied Artelinda; therefore I pray you, let us both enjoy our own opinions, and I believe we shall love each other the better for it: for truly if you were of mine, perhaps I should extremely hate you; and if I were of yours, doubtless we should but jar and disagree, say what we could. Cleonice seeing she was not able to alter the mind of Artelinda, did change discourse, and presently after left her: but as she was ready to go out, she called her back, and prayed her in a laughing manner, to send back unto her that fugitive slave which she had robbed her of, meaning Hermodorus. It shall not be long of me, replied Cleonice, if he do not come and assume his first fetters: But that's not enough, added she, for I would not have you captivate the heart of the insensible Ligdamis, whom I confess, I could never endure: There is so little wisdom in your language, said Cleonice, that I will not answer it; and you are so over-wise, replied Artelinda, that I think my folly to be much better than your wisdom: Thus did these two beauties part; Cleonice went unto her Closet to study, and Artelinda unto hers, to write unto some of her gallants; for indeed, she had nothing else to do: Moreover, Madam, this Lady had yet a most Charming Modesty, in her looks, notwithstanding all her frolic humours; and she used such art in all her actions, that whosoever saw her, and did not know her, would believe, that she thought herself much troubled with that multitude of servants, which herself had subjected, and did carefully preserve them.  
As for Cleonice, her business was quite contrary; for she did love her study and her books, better than all her Mother's Gallants, or Artelinda's Servants, or the Complaints of Hermodorus: And yet she was a lover of Company, but it was the company of choice and rational men; and since she was not Mistress of herself, because she depended upon her Mother, whose humours was so opposite unto hers, she did exceedingly force herself, and insensibly grew not only a horrible hater of all Gallantry and Gallants; but also a Condemner of Love in general, as a Passion the most dangerous of all others: yet did she see Artelinda every day, and continually saw her Mother's Chamber full of those kind of men, who make open profession of never going unto any place often without some hid design; who are always very earnest, and yet have not any other business but to make it thought they are loved, and are in love, and are ever more careful to persuade the first of these, than the second. Cleonice saw all this, but God knows, much against her mind, and therefore with no delight at all. About this time, I myself had the happiness to be in the Catalogue of her friends, my humour being not so contrary unto hers, as Artelinda's; and as Ligdamis was my Kinsman, so I was very well acquainted with him; and would often say, that since there was such a sympathy of inclinations between him and Cleonice, I wondered they did not see one another sometimes: when I met Ligdamis, I would say as much to him; so that acquainting both of them with each others humours, they knew one another better by my relation, than they did before; for their conversation was wont to be so general and confused, by reason of much company which visited Stenobea, that they very seldom spoke one unto another: yet after my descriptions of Cleonice unto Ligdamis, he used to see her ofter than usual; and since I was there almost every day, we met very often, and diverted ourselves more conveniently than we were usually accustomed: for whilst Stenobea was entertaining one part of the company; and Artelinda busy in captivating new Lovers, or keeping the old ones; and whilst Phocylides was languishing for many Ladies at once and in the same place, Ligdamis, Cleonice and myself, did in the mean time make ourselves very merry at them. And indeed there is no better sport then to stand by and observe this kind of universal Courtship and Folly; for commonly all their actions and words are so contrary to all Reason and Wisdom, that questionless, better sport cannot be to an uninterested looker on, then to observe them. At the first, Cleonice was very shy, and had not any such confidence in Ligdamis, as before him to mock at the passages we saw: And being one day alone with her in her Chamber, I told her, she did wrong herself, in passing away her life without any particular Conversation with any. I do confess it Ismenea (said she unto me) for certainly in the humour I am in, if I had the dispose of my own self, I should let the sweetness of my life consist in the friendship and conversation of a select number of choice and rational men, who know what true honour is, and love it; such as are not capable of being deluded by gilded follies, but look upon things as really they are in themselves, and does not make their felicity to consist in ridiculous fooleries, But alas Ismenea, where are such persons to be found? For first, all women which I know, are of three or four several kinds; some are Weathercocks, others are wise, but dull; some have Wit and Virtue, but so crabbed and harsh, that they are not pleasant; others again are Crafty and Wicked: The fair ones, commonly are envious and jealous; the witty and sprightly ones, proud; the fools, are insufferable; and too much gallantry is horrid unto me: Who then would you have me keep company with? It is very true, replied I, for most of the Ephesian Women at this day, are such as you have described: Yet believe me, there is some complete Men which are worthy of Friendship. Ha, Ismenea, said she unto me, it is as hard a matter to find them amongst men, as women: But I do confess, that if it were possible to find out such a rare man as can be constant in all his actions, not love a hundred at once as Phocylides, but can, as I do, absolutely condemn this foolish affected Passion of Love, his Company were worth keeping: For I must needs acknowledge, that a well accomplished and rational man, knows more than the wisest woman; his wit is of a higher strain, his discourse is more agreeable; he can be more complacential unto a Lady, than Ladies can be to one another; and to tell you truly, there is such a kind of disposition in me, which proceeds from some cause which I am ignorant of, that makes me think such friendship more tender and solid than any other: But yet my dear Ismenea, this man I speak of, must be such a one as I speak of, and not at all amorously disposed; for I do profess if he be, I shall never trust myself with him.  
As we were in this discouse, Ligdamis comes into the Chamber, who seeing Stenobea was not within, desired to see Cleonice. I no sooner saw him enter, but I rise up, and said unto him. Come Ligdamis, for if you be not such a man as Cleonice looks for, I shall never find him as long as I live. Really Ismenea, said she unto me, I shall take it very ill, if you tell Ligdamis what I said unto you. You may take it ill if you please, said I unto her, and laughed, yet I must needs tell him of that wonderfully sympathy which is between you: And then I told him some part of what we had spoken. Must it not needs be confessed, there is a strange conformity between you and Cleonice, since you have cast off Phocylides, because he was too full of Courtship; and she hath almost cast off Artelinda, because she hath too many servants? How, said Cleonice, hath Ligdamis cast off Phocylides, because he was amorously disposed? Yes, Madam, replied he, for I will never trust any man of that passionate Profession; and more than that, I do not intend to trust any, for those which are not in love, may hereafter be, and therefore I will keep my secrets looked up in my own heart. But Madam, Ismenea has forced me to speak that which perhaps will ruin me in your good opinion; since being fair as you are, and making many love you, as you have done, it is no discretion to tell you, I am a hater of that Passion which you have so often caused. Oh! Ligdamis, said Cleonice, I am infinitely joyed to see so complete a man as you are, of my opinion: for truly I did think that nothing in the world could be more prejudicial unto us then an amorous friend: For my part, I am an enemy to the Passion, and I beseech you do me the favour to acquaint me with all the ill consequences that Love hath caused in you, to the end I may be more confirmed in my hatred against that Passion. Thanks be to the Gods, Madam, it has not done me much hurt, replied he, although it have my friends: But, Madam, not to tyer you with any long relations, let me only tell you, that as I was going into Greece, I met with Phocylides, and contracted a great league of friendship with him: So that travelling three Months together, I opened my very heart unto him: Yet we were no sooner returned to Ephesus, but he had communicated all my secrets amongst his Mistresses; and some of them being none of the most discreet, had squandered those things up and down all the Town, which I had so secretly kept in the Closet of my Heart: And therefore I have experimentally found the danger of trusting an amorous Friend. But Ligdamis, said I unto him, all men are not so foolish and indiscreet as Phocylides. I do assure you, replied Cleonice, all Lovers are alike, and no difference is to be made between them: For, said she, Love works such an absolute change in all those in whom it is Predominate, that there is no trust to be reposed in them. I remember, a little before I came from Clasomenes, there was a man whose name was Cleanor, who professed abundance of friendship unto me; he was perpetually at my lodging, he could not live out of my sight, he told me the whole Cabinet of his heart; I never saw him either reserved or unquiet, he was infinitely indulgent to please me, and all this without any professions of Love. But I wondered to see him altered upon a sudden: He fell into a constant mode of musing; and I do confess I feared that he loved me a little too well; I found presently after that, that I was deceived, for I knew his mind: His longest visits lasted not above half an hour; he would never tell me any news, or any more of his secrets; all such things as were wont to divert him before, did now displease him; and he was so absolutely altered from the humour he was in, before he was in love, that one would not have thought him the same man. One day as I taxed him with it, he to excuse himself, confessed the whole truth, that he was in love with a Lady; and after this, he would never talk of any other thing, but of her he loved; insomuch as he became so insufferable, as I could not endure him.  
Then, Madam, since I was extremely glad, that Cleonice and Ligdamis were so well acquainted, I put in my vie amongst them, to give them further subject of discourse, and to that end I made a third amongst them: Truly Cleonice, said I unto her, you go a little too far; for there is a vast difference between giddiness and love: you may condemn the one, but must make some exceptions of the other. Not at all, said Cleonice; for I assure you, a resolute Lover is as unfit to make a friend of, as any of those common Lovers, who love in so many places, that they love no where: And truly, I believe, these last sort are more pleasant company then the other. Truly, said Ligdamis, the fair Cleonice speaks abundance of reason: for they whose minds are not too much taken up with thoughts, are always best society; they talk of Music, and Balls, and Walks and Feasts, and all delights, wherein others have a share; but a serious and real lover, the more amorous and faithful he is, the more reserved and more close he is to himself, and rather troubles, then communicates any joys unto others. But Ligdamis, said Cleonice, do you speak really as you think, without any dissimulation? But Madam, said he, I beseech you tell me truly, is it possible a woman that is admirably fair, and infinitely loved, can have a soul so great, as to contemn those trifles in which the felicity of fair ones do most commonly consist? Ha, Madam, if you be such a one, certainly men ought not to love you, but infinitely to adore you: for there is nothing upon earth more Rare, then to see a fair woman not desire that her eyes should burn all those they shine upon; for, Madam, all fair eyes are most commonly malevolent stars, the influence of which, brings misery upon men: For fair ones, to speak in general, are not contented that men should only render homage, and offer Incense; but they require more sad sacrifices: a thousand hearts reduced to ashes, can hardly appease them, a quick and speedy death cannot satisfy their cruelty, but they must inflict long and violent torments: Their highest felicity is to make men miserable. And since so, Madam, how can I believe that you, whose beauty transcends all others that ever I saw, can so absolutely renounce all the sweets of this imaginary Empire, which beauties does pretend to have over all hearts? you especially who can more solidly establish that Empiredom than any other. I cannot consent, said Cleonice, that I have beauty enough, either to conquer or reign: But had I as much as were requisite for it, yet the examples of others should preserve me from any such imbecility; for really, I thing nothing so cruel, as to make all that comes near us out of their wits, and to hazard the being out of them ourselves; for let them talk what they will, love is a most pestilent contagious disease. You yourself, replied I, were never yet infected by any, though I have often seen some in your company, who had that disease upon them: When by chance such a misery is upon me, replied she, I have such admirable Antidotes against it, that I do not fear my loss of that health which I enjoy. Madam, replied Ligdamis, though you cannot love any, nor will permit any to love you, yet I hope you will admit upon terms of friendship without offence; and will not forbid me to hope for the happiness of obtaining that honour from you? otherwise I should blame you. The choice of friends, replied she, is a business of so great a difficulty, that there is a necessity of more prudence, than civility or generosity, but I do think that friends and confidents to be a high happiness; yet (as I said unto Ismenea, before you came in) I will never have any amorous friends, nor one that is wholly engaged, nor any that is courted with a thousand gallants, neither will I admit of proud ones, or fools, or dotards, nor of one that wholly is taken up with the aeconomy of his house. In a word, were I to choose a friend, he should have a pure mind, a good wit, and a high soul; one that I might love, as I might love a brother, without the least thoughts of gallantry and idle courtship; one to whom I might impart all my thoughts, and consequently one that is rational; but above all, one that is not in love, and gives me good assurance that he never will be. Ligdamis and I began to laugh at Cleonice's discourse: Madam, said I unto her, why do you not make choice of Ligdamis, to be this intimate friend you look for? I have not all those good qualities which she desires, replied he; and Cleonice is too fair to assure me of her friendship, since it is not credible, but some one of that thousand of her Lovers, and the disease which she hath caused in them, will be too strong for that Antidote which she saith she hath. I perceive Ligdamis, saith Cleonice, that you are afraid to be too far engaged; but let it not trouble you, since in the humour I am in, I shall not be over hasty to dispose of my friendship. You have good reason, said he unto her, for friendship is a thing too precious to be contracted in so short a time: however Madam, I beseech you give me leave to esteem you with all the faculties of my soul, and stay until you shall think me worthy of your friendship. As they were thus in discourse, Artelinda came in, with two or three of her servants at her heels, and made her change the subject of her discourse. Ligdamis stayed still, and changed not his place, but did sit all that afternoon between Cleonice and me. Presently after her, five or six other beauties entered, and after them Phocylides and Hermodorus, who since they could not get near Cleonice, were so melancholy and disordered, as I could not choose but laugh, After general discourse had lasted a long time, wherein the talk was of news, of horseraces, and fashions, and such like, Artelinda whispered one of her servants in the ear, and whilst she was holding him talk a long while, it was good sport unto us, that had nothing else to do but observe, to see how nettled the rest were at it; and I never passed an afternoon away with more pleasure: sometimes Cleonice would purposely ask a question of one of them, and then he would answer two words, and turn presently away to observe Artelinda, in hopes to guests by her countenance at what she said unto their Rival. When she laughed, we might see three or four of them at a time, knit the brows and frown, so that it was impossible but we must laugh for company: Then Artelinda, to appease one of them which she had nettled, would quit the other she had whispered with, and talk unto him; then would she look whether any of the rest were jealous, and to comfort them also, she would talk with every one of them in their turn: on the other side, Phocylides was no less busy than Artelinda; for being desirous to make Cleonice and three or four others believe he loved them, his looks, his heart, his mind, his wit and tongue were all so divided amongst them, that he seemed to be a little distracted; for he had no sooner done speaking with one, but he immediately accosted another; he looked upon one, and talked with another: he sometimes talked, and sometimes sighed so much, and was so extremely puzzled, that we pitted him. All this while the poor Hermodorus spoke not a word, and was so vexed, that he could not speak in private with Cleonice, that it was good sport also to observe him: when he was forced to speak, he would contradict every thing in the world, unless when one commended the beauty of Cleonice. But to augment the aversion which Cleonice and Ligdamis had unto love; by chance there was a very complete gallant of the Town, who had been long in love, came to see Cleonice, since his affection was very well known, there was many eyes upon him. When this Lover entered, it was good sport to see with what care he endeavoured to seat himself next her he loved: and at his first entrance, he was not so observant to salute Cleonice, as he was to see where his Mistress was, that he might seat himself close by her; yet he was disappointed, for Cleonice craftily caused a stool to be given him in another place: but however, he made a shift, for seeming to have private business with Phocylides, he rise up and whispered him in the ear, and afterwards went unto his Mistress, and sat by her. At the first, they spoke aloud, and the Lady made some signs he should not begin to talk privately so soon: but they began insensibly to speak in a low voice, and by little and little did so forget that they were in company, that they spoke as high as if none had been in the Room with them, and did so publicly discover themselves, that really I was ashamed of them. Well Ismenea, said Cleonice in a low voice unto me, is not all manner of love a most ridiculous thing? and must not it and all kind of gallantry be utterly condemned? Ligdamis being desirous to intrude, and hear what they said, Cleonice did civilly thrust him back: No, no, said she unto him, we are not upon those terms yet. Why Madam, said he unto her, you use me as if I were a devoted servant, though I have disclaimed that quality for ever: you are so fit to be one when you will, replied she, that I cannot yet trust your words.  
By this time the night came on, and the company broke up; when all was gone, Cleonice was so pleasant, and so full of Satirical expressions against all kind of gallants and gallantry, that in my life I never saw her in a more jocund humour. Ligdamis came unto me the next morning to talk of Cleonice, who had so charmed him, that he could not enough admire her, desiring me to employ my best endeavours that he might become her friend; and I without any resistance did make him a promise that I would, yet not assuring him I could obtain it: There did he seek for all handsome opportunities to see her, ofter than usual; but since there was always much company at the house of Steonbea, he went sometimes unto Anaxippa's, where she often used to be, especially when Artelinda was not there, preferring the company of the mother before the daughters, though her virtue was of over severe a strain; yet wheresoever he met her, he still expressed how great an enemy he was unto love, and being a man of an excellent wit, he expressed himself in such significant terms, as he highly advanced himself in Cleonices esteem. Ligdamis being with her one day at her own house, when Stenobea was gone into the walks with half the Town following her, he began a fresh to court her for her friendship, and the sooner to obtain it, he protested unto her that he was not in love. I do believe it Ligdamis (said she unto him) but what assurance can you give me, that you will not hereafter be so. I can give you that assurance myself, Madam, answered he; for most infallibly, since I am not in love with you, I shall never be with any: you are absolutely the fairest teat ever I saw, your wit transcends the highest measure of any I know, either man or woman; your virtue ravishes me, your conversation charms me; and notwithstanding all these, my heart apprehends only respective and reverend thoughts of you: I must needs ingeniously acknowledge, that I extremely love you in the degree and quality of friendship, but it is without any exorbitant or unquiet desires: Therefore, Madam, since so much beauty, wit, virtue; so much esteem, and so great a disposition to love you, has not had that influence upon my heart, you are safe, and need not refuse my friendship, nor deny me yours. Love me, Madam, as you love Ismenea, and if you please a little more; for since I resolve to love none upon earth but you, methinks in reason you should not refuse to love me a little more than any other. You express your friendship in such obliging terms, replied Cleonice, and blushed, that methinks I ought to suspect you: But Ligdamis, do not deceive yourself, I desire sincerity; and though I am confident you are not in love with me, yet perhaps you think I am one of those who only change the name of the thing, but can well enough endure a Lover under the notion of a friend: Take heed therefore what you desire of me, and know, that the friendship which I ever can either give or take, is and shall be a most constant real friendship, without any folly or fond thoughts: I would only have you love me, as one brave man may love another; and I shall love you, as I should love a virtuous woman, if I knew any worthy of my entire affection: I ask no more, answered Ligdamis: But first, said she, I would have you bind yourself by an oath, that if ever you should be so unfortunate as to fall, in love with any beauty, to tell it unto me the same hour; to the end I may assist you with my counsels, and fortify your reason; and in case you cannot become free, I may be absolved from your friendship; for I seriously declare, that if ever you be in love, I shall be no longer your friend: But, Madam, said he unto her, and smiled, suppose I should fall in love with yourself, what must I do then? must I acquaint you with it as soon as ever I perceive it? No, said she, I like not that: What then must I do? replied he: you must wrestle with your passion, answered she, and overcome it, without ever telling me; and though you cannot overcome it, yet be sure to hide it so from me, that I shall never know it. But, answered he, all the world says love cannot be hid: Then you must hide yourself, replied she, and never see me again; yet added she and smiled, I hope that will never come to pass; for the spring can never bring forth more Roses in my cheeks then it hath: I have as much beauty as ever I shall have; and since it has had no operation to move you hitherto, you may be confident it never will, and by consequence our friendship will be eternal. I chanced to come into them as they were upon these terms, and they acquainted me with the conditions of their friendship: But, said, Ligdamis, since I promise you faithfully never to love any, and if to my misfortune I should, to acquaint you with it; may not I ask some assurance against Hermodorus, and all the rest of your lovers and adorers? For my part, said I, and interrupted them, I conceive it reasonable, Cleonice should make a reciprocal promise: I refuse it not, replied she, for I am so certain never to love any, that I do engage myself unto it.  
Thus, Madam, after much such discourse as this, the friendship between Ligdamis and Cleonice was contracted; and for the more absolute confirmation of it, they both of them vented a thousand invectives against all love and lovers. Since that day, Ligdamis esteemed himself so happy, that he said, he never began to live, till since he was acquainted with Cleonice; and she also was so well pleased with him, that she hath given me a million of thanks for contributing unto their friendship: Then did there arise a great confidence between them: Ligdamis was never upon any design, but he did communicate it unto Cleonice: Whensoever he went unto the Court, it was with her approbation and order, and she had such an absolute power over his life, that she did regulate him in matters of his acqcaintance: she made him cast cast off some friends, and take in others, yet all this without any imperious Tyranny. Ligdamis also was acquainted with some of her secret thoughts, she imparted unto him a thousand domestic grievances, which the humour of Stenobea caused: she sincerely told him her thoughts of all, and discovered the very bottom of her soul unto him: And since she had not only a great and piercing wit of her own, but also did with abundance of pains daily add knowledge unto it, to show the vast treasure of her knowledge, she would often instruct Ligdamis in many things which her modesty made secrets of unto any else. When he was at the Army with the Prince Artamas, he would write unto her, and she to him again; and that in such a strain, as her Letters made him almost as happy as her Presence did. Afterwards Stenobea went unto Sardis, and carried her daughter with her: And since Ligdamis thought he might be serviceable unto her, he went thither also. And indeed he rendered her a most considerable good office during that voyage: For being very eminent in the war, the Prince Artamas, who as you know was then called Cleander, loved him very dearly, so that he made use of him in her business: Moreover, if Ligdamis met with any pleasing news, he never was at rest until he had communicated it unto Cleonice, who was as complacential unto him again; so that a very great confidence was between them. One passage fell out which was like to have begun a little kind of quarrel between them: for Hermodorus was so importunate with Cleonice whether she would or no, that she was forced to answer him in such both plain and sincere language, as he was compelled to rest quiet; and indeed she was so bitter against him, that I wonder he did not retort: For as he was pressing her to give him some reasons why he should forever give over all hopes; Since you will needs know, said she unto him, it is for two reasons; the one, because I am fully resolved never to love any, nor suffer any should love me; the other, because though I did resolve to love one, yet of all men living it should not be Hermodorus: Therefore if you be wise, regulate yourself according to this answer, which without any dissimulation proceeds from the full resolves of my heart. After Cleonice had pronounced this dismal sentence upon this unfortunate Lover, she told it unto Ligdamis and myself; and both of us returned her many thanks, because Hermodorus did often interrupt our conversation. But afterwards we understood that Artelinda, whose humour was to subject all hearts that were Rebels to Love, had used a thousand stratagems unto him, which he never acquainted us withal; which did so much incense Cleonice against him, that I had much ado to appease her: yet acquainting him with her resentments, he went immediately unto her, and told her that the reason why he never acquainted her with it, was out of his modesty to hide the gross follies of Artelinda. So that this reconciliation did tie the knot of friendship faster than ever; and I think it might be said, that their affections had all the tenderness of Love, without any irregulation or distemper; for they had as much delight in seeing and talking with one another, as if they had been the deepest Lovers, without all the impatient consequences of it; and they came to that height, that they were jealous without Love: for Cleonice was in continual fears that Ligdamis should fall in love; and he again was infinitely afraid that some Lover or other would steal the heart of Cleonice from him: For both of them were persuaded (and perhaps not without reason) that a great Love and a great Friendship were impossible to be together in one and the same heart. This kind of Jealousy yet had no bitterness in it, nor produced any sad consequences, but on the contrary made their conversation more obliging and delightful. These two esteemed themselves exceedingly happy; and Cleonice for her part was so well pleased, that she trimmed up herself; yet did she shun Artelinda as much as ever she could, whose false vainglorious humour was every day more and more horrid unto her. And truly, since we know all her actions by means of Phocylides, who the more to oblige Cleonice, told her all, we were very sorry that one who was brought up under so virtuous a Mother, should be guilty of so much folly: for her heart was still thirsting after conquest upon conquest, without any distinction or choice at all. Then, as the Temple of Diana did draw abundance of strangers unto Ephesus; there came not a man of any quality to that place, whom she did not endeavour to captivate; and certainly she did effect her endeavours, for every one became her servants. As Cleonice, Ligdamis, and I were one day seeking out for a reason why one and the same Beauty should please and take so many different humours, and strangers so far distant: we concluded that Hope was the cause of it. For (to speak in general) it is hard for a man to see a fair and young Lady (whose affability makes men think the conquest of her is no impossibility) and not to tie himself a while unto her service, though it be only out of curiosity. Also it might almost be said, a man had been dishonoured, if he had not some favour or other from Artelinda, and much more if he continued long in the service. But though we were much astonished that Artelinda should captivate so many, yet we did much more wonder how Phocylides could delude so many: for we know of six or seven Ladies in Ephesus, who thought themselves passionately loved; and we concluded that we were much obliged unto heaven for inspiring us with more reasonable thoughts. In the mean while, the frequent visits that Ligdamis made unto Cleonice, began to make a great noise, and wound the mind of Atelinda, who could not believe there could be any society between a man and a woman without Courtship: and since she was vexed to the soul, that all her stratagems could never have any effect upon the heart of Amestris, she began to hate them extremely. Phocylides also even desperate that he could never move the mind of Cleonice, and suspecting the favour of Ligdamis was the cause, did also hate them: and both of them plotting how to be revenged of them, took different ways to bring it to pass; for Artelinda attempted to make Cleonice jealous, and Phocylides Ligdamis. Artelinda, though she did visit Cleonice seldomer than ordinary, yet sometimes she did see her: And one day being both together, Artelinda took occasion to speak of all the reprehensions which Cleonice twitted her withal concerning the freeness of her behaviour; and being one of the cunningest women upon earth, and the most flattering, after a hundred obliging compliments, Was not the reason (said she unto her) why you did so insensibly decline my friendship, because you believed all I said unto you one day when we were alone together, was my real thoughts? It is very true, I did so, and I found your action and your words to agree so well, that I cannot think I did you any wrong in that belief. If that belief, answered she, did not lose me your affection, I should not much care: As for the world in general, I have long since set up my rest so much above all it can either say or think, that I value it not: But I set a much higher rate upon you, my dear Cleonice! (said she, with extremely dissimulation) for it would grieve me to the soul to be excluded your heart; therefore I beseech you be so sincere as to tell me, whether you can afford me your affection, as long as I continue this course. Cleonice thinking Artelinda had spoke sincerely, considering her expressions, did ingeniously confess that she could not separate her friendship and her esteem from one another, and that she could not possibly esteem one who was so weak as to sacrifice her real honour for an imaginary Chimaera of vainglory, as she did by having continually at least a thousand adorers about her: But deceive not yourself, for all these flatterers do not love you so well as you believe; and for proof of it, do but take their hopes from them one month, and you shall see how they will fall off: Not that there is any imperfection in your beauty, or that you want any excellent qualities which would render you most accomplished, if you did not spoil them by your behaviour; but the truth is, I do know those whom you deceive, and who deceive you, better than you do, and see with more uninterested eyes and freer judgement the precipice from which you are like to fall. Moreover, how do you imagine I should trust one who deceives all that come near her by dissembling her thoughts, and divides her heart amongst a thousand men whom I do not esteem? And therefore blame me not, if I do not love you. Were you only possessed with a violent passion, though I should not confide in your friendship, yet I should pity you, and hope so to cure you, that hereafter I might love you: but the disease wherewith you are infected I see is incurable, and I thought fit to decline you as much as handsomeness will permit. Ah my dear Cleonice! said she, how much do you mistake me? But the sooner to obtain your pity, if not your friendship, (said this crafty woman) I will confess, and confess with a blush, what I have a long time concealed; and I will no longer conceal that Person whom of all the earth I love the best next after— Artelinda stopped at these words; and covering her face with her hand to hide her shame, she stood a while silent: Then seeming to be a little better recollected, Pardon me, dear Cleonice! said she unto her, that my discourse and mind should be in such disorder: For being ready to confess that which I never did unto any, I found some contradiction in myself; and though my will prompted me to discover the bottom of my heart unto you, yet my mouth would not permit me to pronounce his name who is the cause why I live as I do. Cleonice not knowing what Artelinda meant, but being very desirous of it; I do so little understand you, said she unto her, that I cannot return any answer. But you shall understand me presently, replied Artelinda, and sighed: Know therefore, my dear Cleonice, that I am so far from affecting an universal Courtship, that I think myself the most unhappy woman upon earth, for I am engaged in the most firm and constant affection that ever was. How? replied Cleonice, Can Artelinda love firmly and constantly? If I could believe that, though I condemn Love in all others, yet I think I should pardon it in her. Pardon me then, said she: for the truth is, what you do condemn me for, proceeds from one whom I love a thousand times above myself; and one who orders the whole course of my life. And will this happy Lover, said Cleonice, permit you to favour a thousand others? Certainly he does, replied she, and purposely to hide that real passion which is in both our souls: for so it is, that if once our affection should come to be known, our happiness would be forever ruined; and the carriage of it hitherto hath been so close, that none in all Ephesus can suspect any thing of that innocent intelligence that is between us. Yet I think it something strange, said Cleonice, that he should let you pass in the opinion of the world for what you are not. When there is no other way to be happy, replied she, that course must be taken. Will he not be jealous of those he permits you to favour? said Cleonice. Very oft, replied she; and that's the reason why sometimes I cast off those whom he thinks I love best. Thus, dear Cleonice, when you thought me so pleasant and gay, having a thousand Adorers about me, then, even than was I most to be pitied; for I always saw those I loved not, but seldom him whom I did love: Judge therefore, dear Cleonice, whether you did not use me cruelly in denying me your friendship, and in taxing me with so many follies: I desire to be pardoned for not naming him who hath my heart; but I had rather you should guess who it is, if it be possible. I am not to be too pressing into the secrets of another, replied Cleonice, and therefore I will try if I can hit upon, him: But however, Artelinda, though I pity you more than I did, yet I blame you no less: for whosoever your Lover is, I cannot allow of sacrificing your honour to his capricious fancy. If I should name him, replied she, perhaps you would forbear your censure, for there is not in the world a wiser man than he.  
Thus, Madam, did this conference pass, which did exceedingly puzzle Cleonice, for she suspected some trick in it: but yet not knowing very well what to think of it, she kept it to herself, and did not impart it either unto Ligdamis or me. Some few days passed on in these thoughts, and then she went to visit Artelinda, who expected her with much impatience, and prepared to receive her in private, whensoever she came. She no sooner heard she was coming, but she set a little Box open upon the table, in which were divers things, and among others there was a Letter laid upon the top of them, which had this superscription: 
 LIGDAMIS to the Fair ARTELINDA. 
  
Presently this cunning woman retired into her Closet, imagining in all likelihood that Cleonice would find this Letter, and know the hand, and perhaps take it with her. And indeed she was not deceived; for Cleonice was no sooner come into the room, but seeing this Box upon the table, she went towards it, thinking to find some pretty knacks which might please her: But she no sooner cast her eyes upon it, than she knew it to be the hand of Ligdamis; and no sooner knew it, than she took it up; and no sooner took it, then, hearing Artelinda coming, hid it, and seemed to rumble up and down all that was in the Box, and she said she looked not for any Letters, but for some Verses only. Artelinda even ravished at the dissimulation of Cleonice, took the Box out of her hands very hastily: Truly, insensible Cleonice, said she unto her, you received my confidence so ill the other day, that I am resolved to tell you no more than I did, and will not discover the Party whom I love unto you. Cleonice being infinitely desirous to know whether Ligdamis loved Artelinda, did much importune her to tell her who he was, but still she would not: So that seeing all her entreaties would not prevail, and being very impatient to read this Letter which she had taken, she made her visit very short, and went home; and was no sooner in her Chamber, but she opened the Letter, and read these words:  
LIGDAMIS to the Fair ARTELINDA.  
I Know you are the most amiable upon earth: continue, I beseech you, those amorous fallacies, which make so many happy, and so many miserable; and never fear it shall ever prejudice you in my opinion, for you are there so thought upon, that nothing can alter it: The more hearts you captivate, the more you please me, and the more shall I admire you: I shall not need to tell you how much of my soul is yours; let it suffice that you call to memory my expressions, the last time I had the happy honour to talk in private with you; for I dare not commit them to a thin piece of paper: It was happy I was so bold as to tell them once; and it is enough that I now protest my thoughts shall never change, but that I shall be forever the same I was within these three days.  
LIGDAMIS.  
After Cleonice had read this Letter, she stood in a maze, and knew not what to think: For as she knew of some other passages between Artelinda and Ligdamis, so now she made no question but there was a great correspondency between them; and she was so exceedingly incensed that Ligdamis should be so weak, that she thought she could not look upon him but with angry eyes: For, said she, if he be in love with Artelinda, I am extremely mistaken in him; and if he be not, yet however I must break off with him, since I can no more endure he should be a Cheat, than I can he should be a Lover. In the mean time he knows all the secrets of my heart: I have spoken a hundred times against Artelinda, I have told him what I thought of her, and in all likelihood he courts this very Lady. Yet notwithstanding, said she, had he acquainted her with that friendship which we have contracted, she would never have spoke to me as she did. But what can I justly infer from all this? since those who are sincere, cannot easily guess what those who are not so do think. However I must break off with Ligdamis, and expose myself no more to be deceived: I will trust none, nor love any whosoever; but live with as much caution amongst those who profess friendship, as with those that declare themselves my enemies. Yet she resolved not to acquaint Ligdamis with what she knew of him, nor knew she well whether she should accuse him of his crime and chide him. As she was amidst these contemplations, Ligdamis came into her chamber, and came from Stenobea, to bring her unto hers: As soon as she spied him, she hastily took up the Letter, and hid it with much diligence, seeming to be as much troubled at it, as if Ligdamis were her husband, and that Letter had been to one of his Mistresses. Yet could not Cleonice so soon put up this Letter but it was seen; nor could she so well dissemble, but he knew there was something in her mind which angered her, and that his presence was but troublesome. So that coming a little nearer her, Madam, said he, I undertook this commission from Stenobia, to come for you, with much joy, because I thought you would have willingly obeyed her: but I see that I am disappointed, for I see you conceal a Letter which questionless you do not desire I should see; and your very eyes do tell me that I am troublesome unto you. You know, Ligdamis, said she, that the secrets of others are not our own; and since I have no interest in the Contents of this Letter, I will not show it unto you: In the mean time, I will obey those commands which you have brought. And in saying so, she prepared herself to go out of her chamber into her Mothers. Ligdamis would have stayed her, and conjured her first to tell him what it was which troubled her mind: Yet she would not answer him a word, but went away into company, where both of them were very reserved, and looked upon one another so sternly, that they observed and made others also take notice of their distempers. As for Ligdamis, his heart durst not resolve upon any thing against Cleonice: but she had other thoughts of him; for the more discontent she found in the eyes of him, the more she accused him, imagining that his guilt made him ashamed, and was the true cause of all the disorder which appeared in his mind. In the interim, Phocylides, who much desired to know certainly whether Ligdamis was in Love, seemed according to his custom, to be so with one that was sister unto Ligdamis, who then was with us: And since he had wit at will, he thought it would not be a piece of any great difficulty to screw it out of her. But he was at a great nonplus, when he understood from her, that Ligdamis was never unquiet or troubled; that he made no secrets of Cleonice's Letters, but on the contrary did frequently show them; and that there appeared no arguments of his being in Love, only his frequent visits, and continual commendations of Cleonice when any occasions were offered. And he found that these were not absolute arguments whereby to conclude he was in Love; so that he knew not either what to say or think: since he was not one of an humour to love violently, he himself was never much unquiet; and the Jealousy of such men may rather be termed Curiosity then Jealousy. As for Artelinda, she did secretly triumph in being a cause of Cleonice's trouble: yet was her Joy not over-full of tranquillity, because she was still in some doubt there was some secret affection between Ligdamis and Cleonice: for if that were not, said she, she would never have taken that Letter and concealed it; and if she had not conceived herself interested in Ligdamis when she saw his hand, she would not have come off with so short a visit, nor been so impatient to be gone. Thus did Artelinda argue; all whose thoughts, since then, we came to know, for she was not of any humour of keeping secrets very well. In the mean while Ligdamis could not imagine what this Letter should be, which Cleonice so carefully concealed; nor could he conceive what it was which so troubled her mind: He could not think upon any thing else but it; and when he returned home, he would not admit of any company whosoever. Yet did he wonder to find himself so unquiet, and was angry that he should be no more a master of his own mind: conceiving, that friendship only ought not to cause so many angry hours; nor knowing any reason why the sight of this Letter which she so closely concealed, should cause any such sensible sorrow in himself, since he was not in love with her. Yet since friendship may be as tender as love, it may be also a cause of as much unquietness; and one may fear the loss of a Friend, as well as the loss of a Mistress. Finding therefore that he had some reason to be troubled, he waited with much impatiency till the next morning, before he could clear himself of his doubts: yet he could not so soon; for though he went betimes to the house of Cleonice, yet she was gone forth before he came. But, Madam, that which caused her haste, was her fancy to tell Artelinda all that had passed between Ligdamis and her, to the end she might better be convinced of his being in love, though she was absolutely persuaded that he was: for besides this Letter, she knew that the Father of Ligdamis would not suffer his son to marry any but one woman whom he had proposed unto him. So that she expounded all that Artelinda had told her, even as that cunning woman wished. But to clear all, Cleonice went to Artelinda's chamber, and conjured her to discover the name of this fantastical Lover who permitted her a hundred servants. Cleonice, said Artelinda to her, I confess I ought to be fuller of pity than you yourself have been: but you shall never know it, not only because you are too cruel, but also because he whom you would have me name, hearing of our private conferences, is so afraid I should discover our correspondency unto you, that since yesterday he hath written no less than thrice unto me, that he will absolutely break off with me, if ever he hear I acquaint you with the league that is between us: Therefore, Cleonice, I beseech you pardon me, and importune me no further to tell his name: I confess his proceeding does much astonish me, because I cannot comprehend his reason why he should so much fear I should disclose our secret unto you, especially knowing that he esteems you very highly. And truly, I must also confess (said this subtle woman) that if you were less severe than you are, I should think this Man hath told you as well as me, that he loves you, and so deceives us both. Therefore, Cleonice, (said she still most craftily) if there be any man, who notwithstanding your severity, does tell you any delighting lies, which do not displease those who do not believe them; I conjure you to confess it unto me, and name the man who told them; promising you that if you name him whom I mean, I will immediately acknowledge him, for I have as great a desire to tell his name, as you have to know it: Speak therefore, Cleonice, and tell me the man, to the end that joining our interests and resentments together, we may both of us hate the man that thus divides his heart between us. For my part, said Cleonice, (who found enough to confirm her in the opinion she had of Ligdamis) since none ever talks to me concerning matters of Love, I can neither satisfy your curiosity nor my own. Ha Cleonice, said Artelinda, you speak in too general terms to be credited; for how is it possible men should see you, and not tell you at the least that they think you fair, since I myself, who am not in a capacity to love you, cannot choose but say as much? However, said she, you may very well speak more sincerely unto me, since I would trust you with things of my greatest importance. I do not desire, Cleonice, you should tell me who it is that you love, but who it is that loves you: I perceive very plainly you will not satisfy me, because you will not so much as name Hermodorus. I shall not name him indeed, replied Cleonice, as well because he hath ceased his Courtship, as because I know it is not he with whom you hold this secret correspondence. As they were thus in discourse, Ligdamis hearing Cleonice was there, came into the chamber. As soon as he appeared, Cleonice blushed; and Artelinda counterfeiting sadness, she drew her stool further from Cleonice, as if she were afraid Ligdamis should observe she whispered with her.  
This conversation was not pleasing unto any but Artelinda, who had a secret malignant joy, to observe the restless mind of Cleonice, who not being able any longer to endure the company either of Artelinda, or of such a perfidious friend as she conceived Ligdamis to be, did rise up, and would have gone away. He presented his hand unto her, to lead her out; though this visit was so short, that it was a kind of incivility offered unto Artelinda to go so soon; but Cleonice imagining that his going with her was only to dissemble the better, would not suffer him to go with her; and to hinder him, she said she was not going to her own house: adding further, with a forced smile, that she would not incur the hatred of two such friends at once, by separating them so soon. Artelinda replied unto this, according to her usual subtlety, and Ligdamis could not imagine why she should say so; for her looks were so serious, as he could not believe it to be a bare compliment, without any design, so that he would however conduct her to her coach; and as short as his visit had been, yet would he not go in again, but would see whether Cleonice said true, in saying she went not unto her own house: So that he followed after her; and Cleonice looking back to see whether he stayed with Artelinda, saw him follow, and thought that it was only the better to cozen her: and though she told him she was not going home, yet she did, since the anguish of her mind would not permit her to make any more visits. Ligdamis, as soon as he saw her go into her own house, knew certainly she was not friends with him; and thought the reason of it to be, because there was some other whom she loved, of which the Letter he had seen, and language Cleonice gave him, were convincing proofs: She dares not, said he, acknowledge her weakness unto me; however, she might have broke off with me a little more civilly. Thus Madam, did Ligdamis argue with himself, who being very desirous to satisfy all doubts, went the same hour unto Cleonice: And coming into her chamber, he did exceedingly surprise her. Madam, said he unto her, I did not think that any little lies (if I may so phrase them) were allowable amongst such as profess sincere friendship; however, if I durst, I would chide you for telling me you would not go presently to your own house. I did not intend it, replied she, when I told you so, but I altered my mind afterwards. Oh Madam, replied Ligdamis, do not add crime to crime: if you do not think me worthy of your friendship, or that you cannot keep any longer within our conditions, I beseech you let us break off. I do not ask who that happy man is, from whom that Letter came, which you preserve so secretly. That happy one, replied she, sharply, is more of your acquaintance than mine. I do not know a man, replied he, that merits those favours which you do him. I do agree with you, replied she, he does not deserve them. Why then, replied he, do you make him your friend or lover, for I know not which of those two attributes he must have. As for the last of these two, replied she, let us refer it unto Artelinda; and as for the other, I hope he shall not long wear that title. Artelinda has so many Lovers, replied Ligdamis, much perplexed, that I cannot imagine which you mean. It is very true, said Cleonice very fiercely: but Cleonice has so few friends, that you may quickly guests if you please; but Ligdamis, shame shuts up your mouth. Mine, Madam! replied he, much amazed; rather say, a real respect imposeth silence, and keeps me from accusing you. You carry it very confidently, replied she, to be so culpable, and yet complain. I must do so, replied he, but with much respect: therefore without further aggravations, I beseech you, Madam, be so generous as to tell me sincerely, whether it be fit I should be any longer your friend: for since friendship as well as love should proceed from a free and voluntary consent, I shall trouble you no further, but free you from the trouble which my presence causes; nor will I any longer disturb the joys of that happy stranger, whose Letters are so dear unto you. I do assure you, said she unto him, that he who writ the Letter which sticks so in your stomach, is one whom I will never see again, as soon as I have lost the sight of you. Ligdamis amazed at this answer, importuned her to speak more plainly: Then, since she was fully resolved to break off with him that very day, she pulled out of her pocket that Letter which she took from Artelinda; and showing it unto him, Look, perfidious and dissembling man, whether he that writ this Letter, be my Lover or my Friend; or whether he be not rather an Impostor? Oh Madam (cried he out) how fallacious are all appearances, if you think this Letter any argument of Love to Artelinda? Oh Ligdamis, said she, how can you be so impudent as to deny your crime, and justify yourself? No, no, I am not so easily gulled, nor ever will; for I will trust no more, and then the most subtle shall never deceive me. However Ligdamis was less grieved that she should complain against him, then to have cause to complain against her, because he knew he was not culpable. But when he proffered to deliver his reasons; she prevented him, saying, she would tell hers first. But Madam, said he unto her, I believe you have no good ones. Why, said she, do you not think I have just cause to think you the veriest impostor amongst men, to counterfeit as you have done; to condemn Love, to vent continual Satyrs against it, and in the show of all the world to abhor it, whilst in the mean time you loved Artelinda, and to hide your Courtship, wished her to entertain a hundred gallants about her? Believe me Ligdamis, she carries it very well; but let me tell you, that heart which you think is so totally yours, is not so: However, let me tell you, I will have no more of your friendship: and since the conditions between us was not to be in love, I have kept my promise. How Madam, replied Ligdamis, is it possible you should think I am in love with Artelinda? Why Ligdamis, said she, I need not doubt it, since I read this Letter, and know what Artelinda told me. Artelinda, replied he, is a crafty woman, whose words ought always to be held in suspicion: and as for the Letter, Madam, if you do but understand the true sense of it, you will find it to be far from any signs of love. I do ingeniously confess myself to blame in not acquainting you with the extravagancies of Artelinda; yet I hope it is not a fault impardonable: on the contrary, I conceive you are obliged unto me for it; for the reason why I concealed her follies from you, was out of respect and love to you, and therefore you would be most unjust and cruel if you should punish me for it. I do most seriously protest (said he unto her) that I am not in love with Artelinda, that I never was, nor ever will be. If this be not fully satisfaction, but that you will needs have me tell you the adventure between this Lady and me, I must first for my satisfaction, entreat you to seem as if you were ignorant of what I shall discover unto you; for truly Artelinda is so indiscreet, that she moves my pity, not that she is guilty of any such crimes as will put one to the blush; for certainly never any of her most favoured servants ever obtained any thing of her, which did directly; would her virtue; and because she knows that those which serve her, cannot accuse her of any crime, she is therefore the more bold to speak, to write, and do a hundred things which are not very handsome. A very handsome preamble (said Cleonice, and interrupted him) to excuse one whom one does not love. Ligdamis then seeing by the manner of her speech, that there was an absolute necessity of a handsome interpretation of such contradictions, was forced to confess, that being one day with Artelinda, she did with so much art and boldness together, engage him in a conversation of Gallantry, that he never in his life was more perplexed. What could she say unto you? (said Cleonice to him, being extremely desirous to know the passage) for I cannot imagine it possible, that such a one as Artelinda could begin first any such discourse. Ligdamis seeing there was no way to justify himself, but by his obedience unto Cleonice, began to relate what she so much desired to know. As I was sitting very seriously by Artelinda, said he unto her, she asked me the reason of my reservedness: unto which I did not answer, because the only cause of my reservedness was nothing else, but that I was engaged in company of one whose disposition was so contrary unto mine: but I answered in an ambiguous sense, so that she much rejoiced at it, and told me with a smile, that she had seen in her life-time more Lovers than one, who carried it as I did, when they loved and durst not tell: I do protest unto you, said I unto her, and laughed also, that this is not the cause of my reservedness; for truly if I were so unfortunate or fond as to be in love with you, I should not make a secret of it. You would say (answered she) that I should be more glad to hear of such a thing, than you are fearful to discover it unto me, since all the world twits me with it. But for all that, if you chance to love me hereafter, you would not find it so easy matter as you think to discover it unto me: for you are such a declared enemy unto that passion, as you will be ashamed to contradict yourself: however, said she, and laughed, perhaps you love me already a little; and that which makes me believe it, is because I observe you eat me, and because I am terrible unto you: This is a very exttaordinary sign of love (said I unto her) As extraordinary as it is (said she still in Raillery) it is a sign; for my glass tells me, that my face cannot fright you: my company is not so dull as to make you eat it; and therefore I must needs conclude, that you fly me because you fear I should overcome you, and captivate you. Captivity indeed is so great a misery, said I unto her, that though I avoid it for that reason, yet am I excusable: But, Madam, since I am sincerely plain, I must tell you, that is not the reason why I decline your conversation: but the real reason is, because I know not how to talk with you; to admire your beauty, I cannot, because I am not sensible of it; to discourse of wars, is not a fit subject for Ladies; to talk of gallartry, that would seem as if I did dispute with you; to speak of liberty unto one who every day captivates so many slaves, were indiscreet; to profess against love, will be thought 〈…〉 ustick and barbarism: so that not knowing what to say, I fly your company as much as 〈◊〉 can handsomely.  
Since you are in an humour to speak so freely unto me, said she to him, I pray tell me really what are your thoughts of me? Are you indifferent? or have you any aversion against me? Do you hate me? or scorn me? or esteem me? or love me? I do protest unto you (said I unto her, and laughed) except it be the last of these, I have a little of all the rest: For I am very indifferent of you, by reason of the conquests you use to make; I am very averse to your humour of favouring so many men as you do; I hate you and scorn you for some of your servants sakes; and I esteem you for the greatness and vivacity of your spirit. But to speak in general, said she unto me, what is the result of all these thoughts together, and what do you think of me? I think you are one of the fairest women in the world, said I unto her; but the less amiable, because too much loved. It is well, said she unto me, that I can draw so much commendations from one that is a professed enemy unto all Gallantry; and, Ligdamis, you must know, that Commendations is the first step to Love. However (said she still in raillery) if it chance ever to be my hap to wound you, I promise you to release at least six of my Captives for the love of you. They think themselves so happy in it, said I unto her, that it is much better to let them alone in their chains, then to loaden me with them. I shall never see you in private, said she unto me, but I shall ask you what progress I have made in your heart. This, Madam, said Ligdamis, was the discourse between Artelinda and myself. About three days after meeting me in a place where she showed me some Verses composed by the famous Sappho, which were sent her from Mitilene, I desired her to lend them unto me; but she refused, saying she would send them to me; and so she did indeed that very same night with a Letter, the answer unto which you have already. That I may the better believe what you say, said Cleonice unto him, I wish I could see this Letter. That will be no difficult matter, replied he: for as I remember, I writ something upon the backside of it concerning the fortification of Ephesus, which the illustrious Cleander entrusted me with. You will not tell me then, replied Cleonice, that you have kept it out of affection to the Sender. I will not indeed, answered he; for I should think myself a very fool, if I had the least tenderness of Artelinda in me, and therefore far from love. However Ligdamis, to lose no time, sent one of his servants to look in his Closet for this Letter, and accordingly he brought it: but though it was torn in some places, yet Cleonice read these words, after she had very circumspectly looked upon the backside, to see whether Ligdamis had spoken truth or no.  
ARTELINDA unto LIGDAMIS.  
TO testify how much I profited by your last conversation, know, that my desires were so much to please you, as I have not captivated any these three days. Send me word, I pray you, what consequences this will effect upon your heart, to the end that if I cannot make any further happy progress therein, I may stop, and engage myself no further: but I pray you consider seriously before you answer  
ARTELINDA.  
After Cleonice had read this Letter and seriously looked upon it, she told Ligdamis that it was not written by Artelinda. You must know, Madam, said he unto her, that she writes several hands: she does not write unto her friends in the same character that she useth to write unto her Lovers; and if you will be pleased to ask Phocylides, he will show you that I speak the truth.  
But, Madam, Ligdamis spoke so well in his own cause, that he moved Cleonice to believe him; and causing her to compare his Answer with her Letter, she found not the least cause of suspicion. Moreover Cleonice remembering that Artelinda told her, it was her pretended Lovers desire she should carry herself as she did; and that did either plainly appear to be a lie, or else that it was not Ligdamis; because she writ, that to please him she had not captivated any in three days. As Cleonice was thus very busy in examination of the matter, I came into her chamber; and the quarrel between them being related unto me, I justified Ligdamis, and composed all difference between them: for I had not come to see Cleonice that day, but only to show a Letter which Artelinda had writ unto one of her Adorers who was kinsman unto me; and since she found it to be the very same character with that which Ligdamis showed her, she desired pardon for accusing him. After this, they begun new protestations of Frieddship, and lived as they did before, in much sweetness and confidence in each other, all the stratagems and plots of Artelinda and Phocylides not being able to molest them. As for Hermodorus, as he loved none but Cleonice, so it was his only business to observe her: And though the frequent visits of Ligdamis caused him many an angry hour, yet he smothered his sorrows as well as he could: For as Cleonice had forbid him all expressions of Love, so he durst not show his Jealousy, but silently suffered all his sorrows in secret. For our parts, it may be said we lived in a Paradise of Pleasures; Cleonice was sensible of no distastes, but what the humour of Stenobea procured her, which she imparting unto Ligdamis, he lessened the burden, and doubled all her joys. For my part, the esteem of these two firm friends was fullness of happiness to me: I was the Mercury who brought the news of the Town always unto them, and principally concerning Artelinda. I remember one day, hearing one of her: Lovers being gone a journey into the Country, and leaving a Brother with her as his Agent in his absence, he himself fell in love with her, and she would not by any means suffer him to talk of his love unto her, I related the whole story unto them, which had a hundred odd passages in it: and after I had finished my tale; For my part; said Cleonice, I cannot comprehend how one should fall in love with another after they have lived a long time together, without the least sensibility of that Passion: For truly, as I imagine the manner of it, it is its quality to surprise one upon a sudden, and take up the mind all at once, and not steal on by little and little, as Friendship does. Truly, said I on the contrary, I think it much less strange that one should begin to love another after they perfectly are acquainted, and know the qualities of each other, then to see men in the highest extremes, and love excessively the first minute they see the party. Since it is certain, said Ligdamis, that love is an effect of a predominate sympathy, rather than of any perfect knowledge, there is less cause of wonder to see one love at the first minute, then after long acquaintance. However, I am fully persuaded, said Cleonice, that one never passes from terms of Friendship, unto terms of Love; and that one is more apt to fall in love with another, of whom he had but an indifferent opinion, then with one with one with whom he was upon terms of most tender Friendship. For my part, said I unto her, I am not of your opinion; for certainly it is a greater invitement unto Love, to be esteemed, to be loved, to be courted and pleased with the conversation of one, than not to be at all acquainted; or if acquainted, to have but thoughts of indifferency: Nor do I believe I am much mistaken when I affirm, that there is much more heat in the hearts of those who are upon terms of violent Friendship, then in those that are upon terms only of common and indifferent Love. Oh Ismenea! cried out Cleonice; you put me into an extreme fright by saying so: For if you can persuade me of that, you will make me hate Ligdamis. You would be very injust then, said he, though Ismenea had reason for one thing which she affirmed; for I do verily believe with her, that a violent Friendship hath more heat than a mean and indifferent Love: But Madam, there is as vast a difference between these two, as there is between the heat of the Sun, and that of the Fire: The first of these warms and comforts without burning; and the other burns as soon as touched: This is the reason that Love is never without sorrows and distempers; whereas on the contrary, violent friendship may be without any impatiency or trouble. This simile, said Cleonice, does something persuade me against the opinion of Ismenea. He speaks only what will please you Madam (said I unto her purposely to cause dispute) but for all that, he cannot make me believe that a little star can yellow corn, or parch the ground so much as the rays of the Sun. For my part, said Cleonice unto me, and laughed, you make me suspect there is some naughty affection (unto which you do not give the name) which belongs unto it. And you will persuade me, said I unto her, that you only esteem Ligdamis, and have not thoughts of Friendship at all. I had rather he should think so, said she, then that he should think I had any thoughts of him, which might become Love. I never had so good an opinion of myself, replied he, nor so bad of you, as to imagine any such thing; though, added he and laughed, if ever the fair Cleonice should be capable of a kind of affection, I wish it may be unto my advantage. Ha Ligdamis, cried she out, this wish does extremely offend me. If I had wished that you should love me after another manner than you do, replied he, then doubtless I had been to blame, in violating the Promises which I made unto you: But I cannot think it will offend you to say, that if of necessity you must love any, I wish rather it were me then another. But if you do not love me, replied she, (as I do not desire you should) why do you wish so as you do? for is there any thing in the world more ridiculous and extravagant, then to see one of my sex to love, and not to be loved again? Indeed, Ligdamis, I do not like you should fancy such fond suppositions as these.  
But Madam (said I unto her, and was much delighted with her anger) I pray tell us, suppose the case your own, and that Ligdamis should fall in love, had you not rather it should be with you then any other? Really, Ism●n●a, said she unto me, I think you have both lost your wits: Ligdamis, in wishing me in such an injurious case; and you, in ask me such odd questions. However answer me, said I unto her. Can you think, replied she, and blushed, that there is none in the world he can be in love withal but me? There is none in all the world, Madam, replied he, who can render my weakness more excusable than you: but I pray you tell me, Cleonice, said I unto her, why do you ask that question? I ask it, answered she, both in relation to his interest and my own; for certainly, with whomsoever I can be in love, there is more possibility that he shall be loved again by any sooner than by me, who am fully determined never to love any: Moreover, Ligdamis in loving another, does only give me a testimony of his weakness; but in loving me, he does me an injury, since we have concluded none can love without hope, and he can never hope unless he wrong me. But you, said she to Ligdamis, who take upon you so much freedom as to say you had rather be the object of my weakness then of another's, what good reasons can you give me for your rather? Though I had none more strong, answered he, then that I should never publish it, but could better conceal your affection to me then any other, yet that were sufficient. However it be (said she half angry) pray let us speak no more of it: for I perceive we are more apt to discourse of this Passion, then if we were not declared enemies unto it.  
The chafe in which Leonice was, made me laugh as well as Ligdamis: For to persecute her a little, we asked her a hundred odd questions, unto which she would answer sometimes in railiery, and sometimes in anger: but at the end of our conversation we were all in one opinion, and parted good friends. In the interim Artelinda was almost out of her wits, to see her plots, did thrive no better: but being of an humour not to grieve long for any thing, she cheered up herself in the multitude of her Lovers. Phocylides also not knowing which way to trouble the tranquillity of Ligdamis and Cleonice, did desist from ever thinking of it, and lived according to his accustomed rate, as well as Hermodorus. A little while after, the illustrious Cleander conferred the Government of the Castle of Hermes upon the Father of Ligdamis, so that there was a necessity of his going unto the Court to render thanks: And therefore he took his leave of Cleonice, who rejoiced much at the honour which was conferred upon his family. But in parting from her, though it was but for a few days, yet he seemed more sad than he used to be when he parted from her upon less pleasing occasions than this: For when he went to the wars, his journeys were long, and the cause dangerous. However, he made no great reflection upon it then, but came to Sardis, supposing himself only a friend unto Cleonice, and not so much as suspecting he should ever become a Lover. Since he had the honour to be deep in Cleander's love, he retained him longer than he thought: But though the Court at that time was the most glorious Court in the world, as you know (Madam) much better than I do, yet was he extremely discontented, and so impatient was he to return to Ephesus, that he left the Court much sooner than Cleander desired; but he returned with so many symptoms of joy in his face, that Cleonice, when he came to visit her, imagined that some great good fortune had happened to him which she was ignorant of, though the only cause of all his joy was only to see her. However, Ligdamis was much amazed to perceive, that by little and little the tranquillity of his mind was troubled without any apparent cause: For his fortunes were in better state than ever; his health was not impaired; he could not possibly be upon better terms with Cleonice than he was: There wanted nothing which could conduce unto his happiness, but to be sensible of it, as formerly he had been: His reason sometimes told him he could not be better. When he was out of Cleonice's sight, he could not endure the absence; and when he was with her, yet was he not contented: He looked upon her more, and spoke less: He was so extremely unquiet, that he began to suspect his mind was changed, and that he was in Love. The very first thought of it did raise such a turbulent storm in his soul, that all his Reason could not lay it: But in the end, examining the bottom of his heart, and comparing his former estate unto that wherein he was at present, he found he was not master of himself, but that Love was a triumphant Conqueror. To be better satisfied, he asked himself what it was he would have? what he desired? As for matter of Fortune, said he, I am fully contented, for my ambition goes no higher: As relating to Cleonice, I have good reason also to be satisfied with her. But he had no sooner said so, than he perceived presently that he was not; but was so full of such unquiet desires as have no limited objects, that he sensibly found he was in love, and loved violently. Then did he remember, that for fifteen days together he had used no invective expressions against Love; but always when he had some desire unto it, they were mixed with some repugnance contrary to his custom. So that after a strict survey of himself, he knew most certainly that he was absolutely in Love. Yet could he not think that his disease was incurable; but on the contrary thought, that to desire against it, had been antidote sufficient: yet when he consulted with his will, he found that he had no desire at all to be cured. However, he resolved to wrestle with his Passion; and in order to a conquest, he brought as many Reasons as possibly he could invent, but all too weak, and fruitless.  
Seeing then he could not vanquish himself, he resolved at the least to hide his passion, as well because he was ashamed of his weakness, as because he knew that if Cleonice perceived it, she would withdraw her friendship, and treat him ill. Sometimes he would ask himself, whether it was true that he was in love? What, (would he say to himself) is this the insensible Ligdamis, who with so much zeal condemned Love, and yet suffers himself to be vanquished? Fie, fie, I cannot think it: However, I find my heart is not my own, my soul is in disorder; the friendship of Cleonice doth not satisfy me; that which was wont to please me, troubles me; I study and muse without a cause: I can find no rest either in the absence or the presence of Cleonice: when I am out of her sight, I am infinitely impatient to see her, and think that then my happiness would be full; yet when I am come into her presence, my joys to see her are not pure, but mixed with desire of something else, though I know not what: Fain would I tell her my mind; but how can I tell her that I love her, since I have been so invective against Love? and contracted friendship with her, because both she and I were enemies to that passion? No, no, I can never be able to do it. But alas! said he, and reprehended himself, is it possible I can live so restless without any complaint? Yet Cleonice engaged me, that if ever I should be so unfortunate and fond as to be in love with her, I should endeavour to vanquish my passion, at the least to hide it; and if I could not, to banish myself, and forbear her company. I have already found that the first of these injunctions is absolutely impossible, and I do very much doubt the second. My case is very hard, said he: for all other Lovers, when they begin to love, may hope that their complaints will be heard; they are not forbid to speak of their passions, till after they have expressed themselves, so that they are sure their Loves are known: But my destiny is very malignant, for they forbid me to speak of Love, before ever I was in Love. Others, I say, in discovering their affection, are not in any danger to lose any thing, but may hope as well as fear: Yet I am almost certain, that Cleonice will withdraw her friendship from me, as soon as I discover mine. However, said he, since my heart hath changed, why may not hers also? Hope then, said he, hope Ligdamis! Then presently his soul was so full of fears, that he lost all hope, and almost his reason: yet since he could do nothing else, he resolved to disguise his thoughts, having not a heart to tell her that he loved her, or to deprive himself of her sight. He visited her therefore as he was wont, but almost without any delight, by reason of his constrained way: He desired to look upon her without distraction, as formerly he did, but alas it was impossible; his eyes, whether he would or no, betrayed the secrets of his heart; he wished she could guess at the motions of his soul: but with much care did he hide that, which rather than his life he would have her know, and which yet he durst not tell her. Since Cleonice did not suspect any thing of all this, she took no notice of this alteration in Ligdamis: yet within a while after he was so distempered, and so reserved, that she perceived it, and asked him the cause with so much sincerity, as let him know she was ignorant of it: And he, being fearful to acquaint her with such an unwelcome truth, answered, that his reservedness proceeded from a foolish indisposition of melancholy, without any cause; and Cleonice believing him, did strive as much as she could to divert him by a hundred obliging endeavours.  
I well remember, how at that time Artelinda afforded us an ample subject to speak against Love: For, Madam, one of her Lovers being gone a journey, and leaving a Brother with her as his Agent, to present his Letters unto Artelinda, and to receive her answers, she made a Captive of him, who was only a Solicitor for another, and showed more favours unto him, then to the Party for whom he did negotiate. Phocylides also gave us another subject of talk, in persuading two mortal enemies which she loved, and making them both believe severally, that he did but mock the other whom he hated. Having met with these two fresh adventures in one day; Cleonice, Ligdamis and I being together, Cleonice, according to her wont manner, began to speak against the fantastical effects of Love. Ligdamis, after he had been along while and spoke not a word, told her that she did mistake things, since these kind of extravagancies are rather caused by the folly of them that do them, then by Love, which really had never any room in their hearts: For indeed Artelinda and Phocylides are not in love. Yet if there were no such things as Love in the world, replied Cleonice they would not do any such things: But Ligdamis, said she; and laughed, how comes it to pass that you make a difference between Love, and the follies of Artelinda and Phocylides? Because (answered he coldly) I have so many things besides to accuse them of, that I will not charge them unjustly. For my part, said she, I am not so indulgent unto them as you are; for I do accuse Love of all the evils in the world. Suppose it should deprive me of my reason, said he, would you be glad of it? No, believe me, said she; for I love you more than I hate Love; and therefore I assure you I should be extremely sorry: But I am so well persuaded of your wisdom, that I never need fear any such thing. Yet they say, replied he, men must be in love once in their lives. I do not think that so general a Rule, but it will admit of some exceptions, replied she, and laughed; for Ligdamis has seen all the springing Beauties in Ephesus and Sardis, and none of them could ever draw him into any danger; therefore I hope he will never be in love, and by consequence will for ever enjoy my Friendship. I promise you all the Beauties of Ephesus (said he unto her) cannot keep me from loving you. But you say nothing of our Sardinian Stars (said she, and laughed still) Since you fear them not, replied he, and blushed, I need not speak of them. Cleonice observing an alteration in the face of Ligdamis, began to repeat all the conditions of their Friendship. Do you not remember, said she unto him, that I promised you my Affection, as long as you were not in love, and no longer; and how you for your part promised, if ever you were in love, you would acquaint me with it that very same hour. I do not know Madam, (replied he with a far fetched sigh) what your commands were, in case I should be in love with you. Though there be not necessity of a repetition, replied she, yet I will remember you, how I said I would not have you acquaint me with it, that you should endeavour to vanquish the passion; that if you could not, yet to conceal it; and if you could not do that, then to hide yourself, and never see me again. But Madam, replied he, did you never alter your mind since that time? No, replied she, not at all: But Ligdamis, I hope you will find no great-difficulty in obeying me; and since no other can captivate you, you will be still free, and I ever your friend: Though truly your reservedness and melancholy of Love hath put me into many fears; for I always imagined when you came unto me, that you came with intentions to discover your weakness, and to tell me you were either in love with Artelinda or some other. Ligdamis did blush at this discourse. I asked him the cause; and he told me it was usual for them to blush who were suspected of any injustice.  
Thus, Madam, was their discourse, which did double all the miseries of Ligdamis, and grew so insupportable, that he was not able to endure them: He offered a hundred and a hundred times to tell her that he loved her, and his reverend respects of her stopped his mouth. Then did he determine to discover his love unto her by his obedience; that was, in ceasing to see her; conceiving no way better to let her know it, and not incense her: This way of declaring love, was a hard chapter; but since he could not speak, silence it seems must speak for him; and he esteemed it one degree of happiness in his misery, that he hoped she would thereby understand his meaning: Then, after a long visit without a minute of private discourse, because much company was there that day, as he was going out with the rest of the company, which went out almost altogether; Shall I see you to morrow? said she unto him: No, Madam, replied he. And why will you deprive me of that honour? replied she. Because I am resolved to obey you; answered he, and went on't, not daring to look at her. Cleonice calling to memory all that she had said unto him that day, could not remember she had enjoined any thing upon him to be done to morrow; and therefore she thought his memory had deceived him, but did not at all respect the truth.  
The day following, she asked me whether I saw Ligdamis? and also asked several others; who all answered, No; and indeed he never came out of his own Chamber, but waited with as much fear and as impatience, till Cleonice expressed some signs she understood him. He told me since, that never man suffered more melancholy misery than he did upon that occasion; for, said he, she understands me not, and I deprive myself of the happiness of seeing her to no purpose; and if she do understand me, perhaps it is with anger in her heart: I shall myself destroy that esteem which she has of me, and perhaps she will not do me so much favour. as to show her indignation unto me, but let me alone in my lamentable exile: but Cleonice did not at all suspect his Passion. The first day was thus spent, the second astonished her a little more, and the third day I coming unto her: What have you done with Ligdamis? said she to me; and what's become of him, that neither we nor any else can see him? I should have said he had been sick, said I unto her, if I had not met with his sister in the Temple, who told me he was not sick, but very melancholy. I cannot imagine the cause of it, replied Cleonice, but must stay till he be in the humour to come and tell me. The next day being a day consecrated unto Diana, Cleonice and I went unto the Temple, and as we came in, I saw Ligdamis; and showed him unto Cleonice; yet he no sooner saw us look upon him, but after he had bowed unto us, he went out of the Temple, which did exceedingly surprise us; for his custom was, when he met with Cleonice, to regulate his devotion according to hers, and wait upon her out. The next day following, we did accidently meet with him, but since Artelinda and three or four more were in the company, Cleonice could hardly speak unto him, yet as he passed on her side, she leaned towards him; and most obligingly said, I pray Ligdamis, tell me what you are doing? I am obeying you Madam (replied he in a low voice, and blushed) and without any longer stay, he went away: and left Cleonice so astonished, that she knew not what to think: As soon as she was returned home, she resolved to clear her doubts; and writ unto Ligdamis in these terms:  
CLEONICE unto LIGDAMIS.  
SInce I cannot remember I ever desired any thing of you, which might deprive me of the happiness in seeing you, do me the favour to write your mind; to the end I may chide myself, and my bad memory, and that I may know your willingness to obey me,  
CLEONICE.  
After she had writ this Letter, she sent it unto Ligdamis, by a Page which she loved very well, who did deliver it the very same hour: You may imagine how Ligdamis was perplexed; he began twenty times to answer this Letter, and as many times blotted out what he had writ: Sometimes he thought he said too much, and presently after he thought it too little. But in conclusion, there being a necessity of writing something, he returned this answer, if my memory fail me not.  
LIGDAMIS unto CLEONICE.  
I Would it were the will of the Gods, Madam, that my putting you in memory of that Command which you imposed upon me, to see yond no more, could make me hope my obedience would procure a pardon of that Crime which did precede it: I have not so much confident boldness as to tell you what it is, unless your goodness will permit, or rather appoint me  
LIGDAMIS.  
After he had writ this Letter, and read it over and over, he gave it unto the Page which brought the other, commanding him to deliver it with his own hands unto his Mistress, and let none see it but she. As chance was, I came unto Cleonice, presently after she had sent unto Ligdamis, and was with her when she received his answer: As soon as the Page appeared, she went towards him to take that Letter which he writ; and turning towards me, We shall see whether I have lost my memory, said she; or whether I ever commanded Ligdamis not to see me, and have forgotten it. After this, she began to read the Letter aloud: but I saw her blush at reading of the two first lines; her voice changed; and she read the last so indistinctly, that I understood her not: Then I took the Letter and read it. Is your curiosity satisfied? (said I, after I had read it.) Not at all, replied she, for I do not well understand whether Ligdamis jeers, or whether he hath lost his wits or reason; nor do I yet understand whether that command which he says I imposed upon him, be grounded upon that question which he asked me the other day in your presence, which was, What he should do in case he fell in love with me? I perceive indeed, he would make me believe he is so. You must needs confess, said I unto her, that this declaration of his love is the most respective that possibly can be, and also the most private. Heavens preserve me from thinking that Ligdamis is in love with me! said she: No, no, Ismenea, I do not at all believe it, and I do repent of that suspicion which I had of him: Certainly he is in an humour to make himself some sport, and would be revenged of me for the perplexity I put him into by accusing him of being in love with Artelinda. However, said I unto her, it must needs be acknowledged, that if he be in love, he could not carry it with more respect or with more gallantry. If he were in love, replied she, doubtlese he could not carry it so: for Lovers lose their Reason, as soon as they begin to enter into that predicament. Yet I have heard say, replied I, that there are some men which Love makes more witty. I do think indeed, said she, that perhaps it may infuse some wit into those who had none before; but I believe on the other side, it takes away the wits of them that had any: And therefore I am confirmed in my opinion, that Ligdamis makes himself merry by this design; it not being imaginable he should preserve his Judgement, and be in Love. Yet for all that, said I unto her, he has found out an invention to make you read the declaration of his love without any anger. I do confess it, said she, but it is because I do not think as he desires I should: I am so afraid (said she and laughed) he should imagine I take this seriously, and that I should give him a subject of laughing at me all his life-long, that I will send for him hither immediately, that I may let him see by my entertainment of him, that I am not easily deceived. But (said I unto her) say you should be deceived, what would you say then? I would say (replied she) that I am the unhappiest woman upon earth: But why do I say so? Tell me, Ismenea, have I not the very same eyes I had when Ligdamis was only my friend? Am I more charming than I was? have I any more wit? What's the matter that makes me more terrible to him then before? No, no; the mind of Ligdamis is still the same, and so free, that I see he hath invented a more witty declaration of his love, than all the Lovers of Artelinda ever could.  
But how came it to pass, said I unto her, that you blushed so at the reading of his Letter; and that your voice was so feeble and weak, that I had much ado to understand you? The reason was, replied she, because all that smells of Gallantry and Courtship doth affright me at the first; but presently after I recollected myself. However you make me lose time, which is so precious to me: for methinks I see Ligdamis delighting himself with his own imaginations that he has made me angry. Then without more ado she called one of her women, whom she commanded to bring the Page unto her who carried her Letter to Ligdamis: when he was come, she commanded him to go again unto him from her, and to tell him she desired he would immediately come unto her: If by chance he ask who is with me, (said she) tell him Ismenea; and if he inquire whether I be merry or melancholy, tell him the truth, that I am no● sad. Cleonice gave him these instructions, because she knew Ligdamis was wont to ask this Page a hundred such questions; and her reason why she bade him say so was, because she would not have Ligdamis think she received his Letter (as he did write it) seriously: so afraid was she, that Ligdamis should believe one minute that she thought him to be in love with her. The Page being gone to Ligdamis, he no sooner saw him, but he thought he brought the sentence of his death, signed with the hand of Cleonice: And he was preparing himself to read it with a sad heart, when the Page came near him with a pleasant air, and presented a very civil Compliment from Cleonice, telling him she desired he would come unto her. Ligdamis amazed at this, asked the Page whether she had read his Letter? and he answered, that he believed she had more than once, for (said he) she had leisure enough▪ since there was none with her but Ismenea. Afterwards Ligdamis, seeming to inquire of his Mistress' health, asked him whether she was pleasant or melancholy? And the Page answering according to his instructions, Ligdamis was so surprised, that he knew not what to think: He told the Page, he would wait upon her presently; but he was not so quick as his word, for it was above an hour that he was descanting upon the message which he had received, and another hour upon the pleasantness of Cleonice, before he could get out of his chamber. What should I think of this? said he: does Cleonice understand me, or does she not? is it possible that Love in wounding my heart, has troubled hers? or does she not understand my meaning? Certainly Cleonice has wit enough, and therefore must needs know my desires; and certainly also she knows them without choler, since she sends for me. Go then I will, and go in hopes; yet I believe I have more reason to go in fear, for how can it be imagined that strong aversion she had to Love should so suddenly alter? yet on the other side, since I am changed, why may not she also as well as I? The same reason is equal unto us both: and since the beauty, wit, and merit of Cleonice hath changed my resolution, why may it not as well change her tenderness of friendship into a passionate affection? Moreover, since Love is a grand cause of Love, why may not mine move hers? for certainly I love her above all expressions. Hope then, hope Ligdamis! Go and receive a sentence of favour from her, who is only able to grant it.  
After this, Ligdamis went unto Cleonice; who no sooner saw him, but she broke out into an extreme laughter, purposely to let him see he had not deceived her, and that his projects did not hit. But, Madam, Cleonice's joy did not infect Ligdamis: for on the contrary, seeing by her jocund air and pleasant looks, that she understood not what he intended and desired, he was so serious and extremely troubled, as never man was more: Yet notwithstanding Cleonice prosecuted her intended design, to let him see he had not deceived her. But as Ligdamis was ready to answer, and I to take Cleonice's part, I was sent for home upon a business of great consequence, so that I left them both together, and left them both extremely nonplussed. Yet did I afterwards know all the passages, for they both of them severally related them unto me that same night. I was no sooner gone, but Cleonice continuing her jeers, Very well, Ligdamis! said she unto him; are you not ashamed of your trim declaration of Love, which you invented to make yourself sport withal? Truly, I take it very ill, you should ever think I could believe it serious: but I believe you have some curious disposition to anger me. Yet, Ligdamis, I am a little more subtle than you are, since I know very well it is only a piece of your Railiery. I wish unto the Gods, Madam, said he unto her, that what you say were true. Seriously, Ligdamis, I cannot endure to hear you speak thus. Seriously, Madam, said he unto her, I can speak no otherwise, unless I should lie. Cleonice then looking upon Ligdamis, and seeing such a real trouble in his face as persuaded her he was in earnest, was so amazed and incensed, that she stood a while and could not speak: so that Ligdamis began the discourse. Madam, said he unto her, I beseech you do not condemn before you understand me. You know very well, said she unto him, that this is not according to our Conditions, and that I ought not to hearken to any thing which you shall say, since you have rendered yourself unworthy of my friendship by your poor imbecility: which though I will not yet accuse you of, however since I think you have lost your reason by some other accident, go, Ligdamis, and stay at home until you recover it, and see me no more till then. In the name of our friendship, Madam, said he unto her, do not thus cruelly banish me. That conjuration, replied Cleonice, had power to obtain any thing of me as long as our friendship lasted; but since it is at an end, I must deny you all things. I do protest unto you, Madam, said he unto her, that I have not one thought in my heart which can offend you; and if there be any alteration in my soul, it is disadvantageous only unto myself: I must needs confess I am more unquiet and troubled than I was, I do acknowledge it; but as in relation unto you Madam, the only difference is, that I respect you much more than I did before: I fear you more, and love you with a greater zeal, this is all: indeed, divine Cleonice, all the alteration is, I loved you then, and I adore you now.  
Whilst Ligdamis was thus expressing himself, Cleonice looked upon him with coldness able to drive a man into absolute despair: And upon a sudden she beginning to speak, Fie, fie, Ligdamis! said she unto him, give over, and do not add crime to crime; content yourself with my friendship, and do not force me to hate you. Would it be just, Madam, said he unto her, to hate me for loving you too much? Moreover, do you not consider that I did never resist you, but always most punctually obey you? I have striven with my passion as much as I was able, and afterwards found I could not overcome it: I endeavoured to hide it; then seeing I was not able to do that neither, I would have banished myself. Why did you not seek a handsome pretence for it then, said she unto him, and never acquaint me with your follies? Why, Madam, said he unto her, would you wish me to lose my Reason and my Liberty both? To drown my soul in an ocean of turbulent thoughts, altered all my inclinations, quitted the quiet of all my life; and would you, I say, have been ignorant of the cause of all these miseries, and denied me so much consolation as to let you know how willing I was to obey you? Obey me then, said she unto him, in never seeing you again. Ligdamis would have said something to her, but she would by no means hear him; and seeing he had no will to go out of her chamber, she went out the first, and constrained him to go out also.  
I leave you to imagine Madam, how great his sorrow was; and truly hers was no less, though it was indifferent thoughts; for Ligdamis was grieved, because he feared his perseverance would never alter the heart of Cleonice; and she was sad to break off friendship with Ligdamis, and deprive herself of his society who was so dear unto her. She not being able then to contain her sorrows in her own soul, she sent for me, and I went unto her the same night, as soon as I came to her; My dear Ismenea (said she unto me) am I not very unfortunate? and must it not needs be confessed, that I have reason to be sorry you ever made me acquainted with Ligdamis? Why, said I unto her, did you quarrel when I left you together? Yes, answered Cleonice; and so much, that you can never agree us again. Then she told me the whole passage, but with such disturbed thoughts, that it was easy to see, she was extremely perplexed: for I clearly saw she had a most high esteem of the friendship of Ligdamis; and I perceived also, that she resolved never to see him again. Methinks (said I unto her, when I heard her say so) that you are a little too hastily in your courses; do you not consider, that if you break off so abruptly with him, all the world will be inquisitive of the cause? And do not you yourself consider (said she to me) if I do not break off with Ligdamis, he may well imagine his pretended Passion does not displease me? This last inconveniency, said I unto her, has not so many dangerous consequences as the other. Truly, said she, I think them much more dangerous.  
Indeed, Madam, I could not with any arguments alter him, but left her in a peremptory resolution never to see Ligdamis again. As I returned to my chamber, there I found this unfortunate Lover waiting for me, who came to ask my advice and assistance: I told him ingeniously that Cleonice was much incensed against him, but would not tell him all I thought, because I would not too much deject him. But Ligdamis, said I unto him, do you intent to be still in love with Cleonice yet? With whom else, replied he, sharply, do you think I can love any but her, who is the most accomplished of her sex? knowing her humour, as I do, replied I, and as you do also, methinks you should never think more of her. Ha Ismenea, said he unto me, I am grown very knowing in love of late, and you remain ignorant: within this few days, doubtless I should have said the same; but now I know by experience, that love is infinitely more strong than all reasons, and nothing can overcome it: Therefore since it is not a voluntary business, or a taken up humour, it is great injustice to condemn those that are captivated by it. You yourself then, replied I, and laughed, have been often very unjust. I do confess it, replied he, and am severely punished for it: However, it is but equity to pity at the least all unfortunate Lovers, who can hope for no other consolation: And this Ismenea is all the favour that I ask of Cleonice: She has heretofore done me the honour to say, that if ever I fell in love, provided it was not with herself, she would take it well if I discovered it unto her; she told me that she would assist me with her council, and do her best to cure that disease which so tormented me: I beseech you obtain only this favour from her goodness, that she would be pleased to make no exceptions; but that I once more tell her into what a condition she has brought my soul, as if it were not herself with whom I am in love; and I do most faithfully promise her, to follow her advice whatever it be, and to try all remedies which she shall prescribe in order to my cure: If I were in love with any other, she were not so much obliged to help me▪ Negotiate therefore for me, dear Ismenea, and persuade this most admirable Lady to be the Confident of that Passion which she herself has caused.  
I should never end, Madam, if I should relate all that Ligdamis said unto me; for I think Love did never inspire any man with more delicate and pure raptures than it did him: He moved me infinitely to pity him; insomuch as I promised to use my best endeavours that Cleonice should not hate him. I found it a knotty piece of difficulty to obtain of her that he might see her; for she was many days together peremptorily resolved never to see him again; but maugre all her choler, I perceived she could not forget the friendship which was between Ligdamis and herself; and therefore I thought it expedient to press her no further then unto terms of Friendship, to see how her soul would relish that only. In the interim, Ligdamis looked at no body, and feigning himself to be sick for a pretence of his not going out, he lived the most miserable life upon earth; for when he remembered how happy once he was, when he was only the friend of Cleonice, and considered how unfortunate he was now, only because he loved her, he thought himself a most despicable man. Four or five days passed on in this manner, during all which time, I saw Cleonice was very melancholy, and I did not so much as name Ligdamis unto her. Sometimes I saw by her eyes, she expected I should talk of him, and sometimes again I saw she did not desire it; yet I kept constant unto my resolution, and spoke not one syllable of him. Divers in my presence asked her, whether she knew the cause of Ligdamis his retirement: Artelinda, she asked her the same question, Phocylides he another, and every one, even so much as Hermodorus, endeavoured to know of her, how it came to pass he did not visit her. Some said he was sick, others said he was grieved, all concluded he would die presently, if the malady of his body or mind did not diminish.  
After all the company was gone who had spoken to her concerning Ligdamis, she turned towards me: The destiny of Ligdamis, said she, is very strange; for all that love him not do speak unto me of him, and you who do love him, says not a word. It is true, said I unto her; but the reason is, because I love you more than I do him, and my fears to anger you imposes silence. I give you thanks for that thought of me, replied she, but I should have thought myself very much obliged to you, if you had infused any reason into the soul of Ligdamis, whom I esteem so much, as I wish I could see him reasonable again. It is you, Madam, said I unto her, that must work that miracle: and then I acquainted her how Ligdamis did most humbly supplicate, that she would be pleased to be unto him as she had promised to be, if he had been in love with another. At the first, she rejected his desire, and would by no means hearken unto it; but afterwards, after a long resistance, thinking that perhaps she might dissuade him by reason from being in love with her, she promised to see him once again, and to advice with him upon some course to cure him of his disease. As soon as I was parted from Cleonice, I sent for Ligdamis, who received this news with incredible joy: But, said I unto him, all this is not to advice you to be still in love with her. It is no matter, said he unto me, I care not upon what conditions it be, so I may but see her; the very sight of her will be an unexpressable comfort unto me: And indeed he stayed not long for that comfort, for the next morning Stenobea went abroad to make many visits, leaving Cleonice behind her, and I advertised Ligdamis of it; yet I could not possibly be at this meeting, but he gave me an account of it the next day.  
As soon as he came to her, she looked upon him with such an austere aspect, as was enough to quash all hopes in a Lover's heart: Ligdamis, said she unto him, do not think to draw any matter of advantage unto yourself out of this my indulgence towards you, nor flatter yourself so much as to think I am not so much incensed against you as I seem to be. I resolved of this present course, because I thought our past friendship obliged me to use all my endeavours for your cure; and to try once more, whether I could infuse any reason into your soul. Which way soever I have the honour of seeing you Madam, answered he, I am infinitely obliged unto you, and more obliged, then for all the favour you conferred upon me, during the time of our Friendship; since really I never wished for this honour with so much ardency and zeal, as since I have been deprived of your sight. Yet I am the very same I was, replied Cleonice coldly. It is true, Madam, replied he, but so am not I the same I was. I am very sorrow for it, replied she, and I would do any thing to reduce you unto that pleasing and faithful Friendship which was once in you, that you were such a solid Friend, I say, as could clearly see things as really they are; and whose Conversation and Friendship, was the very delight of my life: but alas, Ligdamis, you are not now such a one as I speak of: Yet why are you not? why will you force me to hate you? or at the least to see you no more. Madam, said he, I am far from being so unreasonable: and if I durst I would tell you, that I limit all my desires only unto the seeing of you, and to the being your friend. Did you pretend only unto these two things; replied she, you never would have changed thoughts, for there could not be a more tender Friendship then there was betwixt you and me, nor could you see me ofter than you did. It is true, Madam, said he to her, but that affection which you had to me, and those frequent visits which I made, wanted something which indeed I cannot express, which yet is absolutely necessary to satisfy an amorous man. Fie, fie, Ligdamis, said she, did I ever think to hear such a terrible word from your mouth? You, I say, who has made me a hundred pleasing Satyrs against ridiculous Love; who has described it as the most dangerous Passion; who has told me it never laid hold on any but fools and idle people; who has promised me a thousand times, it should never captivate you; who has related unto me a thousand sad consequences it has caused, and ten times as many extravagances; who has told me, that it makes all those who are possessed with it to lose their reason, to forget virtue, and at the least makes them all miserable. You added unto all this, that this dangerous Passion makes the most faithful Friends become Impostors and Cheats; that a Lover ought always to be looked upon as one that is not fit to answer for himself, and as one that is ready to commit all sins for the advancement of his foolish love. After all this, Ligdamis, would you have me look upon you as a man in love; and as one who according to your own maxims I ought to scorn and hate? Speak, Ligdamis, speak, I conjure you; but speak though, as I would have you, What would you have me say, Madam? replied he. I would have you say, replied she, and assure me that you will be always my Friend, and that you will never be a Lover. Indeed I cannot, Madam, answered he: for though I should force my tongue to tell a lie, yet my eyes would contradict my words, and my face would discover the secrets of my heart. Fie Ligdamis, said she, are you resolved to lose my friendship? Why Madam, answered he, I could easier consent to love you less, then to say it.  
But Ligdamis, said she unto him, you do not answer unto what I say: I pray tell me whether all you have spoken against Love, be out of your memory? No, replied he, but it is out of my heart, since certainly I see things after another manner than I did before. For my part, said she, I know not why you should. Yes Madam, replied he, I do not see you as I did when I was only your friend: I find you a hundred times more fair than I did; methinks you have incomparably a finer spirit than you had before; you are infinitely more charming; your humours are more agreeable and pleasing unto me; the least of your words now, has more eloquence than your finest rhetoric had before; your very look makes my heart to beat; and you seem to be so infinitely above what you were before in every thing, that I am ashamed I should not discover those admirable perfections in you until I was in love: Yes, Madam, the fire does not only warm, but enlighten me, and lets me see a hundred things which I could not see before. And can you see, said she unto him, that Love is not the same you said it was before? I do most plainly see it, replied he, and in such a most evident manner, that I wonder how I could possibly reason so against it. I do confess, Madam, there is a terrestrial, gross, and brutal kind of Passion that usurps the name of Love, yet is not, which merits the aversion of all reasonable people: Also I do confess there is a kind of universal Gallantry, unworthy of a lofty soul: But a constant and pure Love, such a Love as my soul is sensible of, is the most glorious and commendable thing in the world. It is by this Passion that souls are elevated above themselves, and prompted unto all heroic actions. Be pleased, Madam, to command me any thing that is full of the greatest difficulties, and the most dangerous to be executed, and I shall immediately attempt it. If you had imposed any thing of this nature upon that Ligdamis who was only your friend, perhaps he would have considered the greatness of the danger, and the difficulty of his obedience, and in all likelihood would not undertake it: but this Ligdamis who loves you now, will never deliberate a minute upon any of your Commands, but is ready with his obedience at a minute's warning.  
Then I command you not to love me as you do, replied she, if it be so that your obedience has no limits. Impossibilities, Madam, replied he, are ever to be excepted; and therefore in this I cannot obey you, because it is not in my power to love more or less than I do. Then I must never see you again, replied she, unless you will endeavour to find out ways of curing your folly. Though my disease is such, replied he, that I had rather die then wish the cure; yet I will ask you, Madam, what you conceive most proper and expedient for it? I would have you think upon all you have formerly said unto me against it, replied she. I remember them very well, replied he; but I find them so unjust and remediless, that they will not do it. Consult then with your own Reason, replied she, and I am confident it will change your opinion. Alas Madam, replied he, my Reason is so troubled, and so far from affording me any council, that it absolutely submits unto my Passion. Then see me no more, said she, and try whether absence will help you. Since these five or six days in which I have not seen you, replied he, my love is increased much more. Consider then, replied she, that if you love me, I shall hate you; and by not loving me, you will still have my esteem and friendship. Oh Madam, cried he, how most unjust is this, to love me if I do not love you, and to hate me if I do! Whatever it be, Ligdamis, replied she, since my thoughts are not changed as yours are, but still look upon Love with the same eyes I did before, and find you so unreasonable that I cannot endure you, I must tell you what I conceive: Your face is changed, and your actions also: I find a continual restlessness in your eyes; you speak more hastily than you did before; all you say is unjust; you are silent when you should speak, and answer always impertinently, and indeed do every thing without reason: For you thought yourself happy heretofore in my conversation, my esteem, my friendship, and my confidence; I do yet offer the same unto you and you are not contented. For my part, Ligdamis, you may say or think what you please; but I never found Love so fantastical in any as in you. The reason is, replied he, because the Passion was never so violent in any as in me: but alas, Madam, I must needs think myself most unhappy, that my love is unknown to you. Deceive not yourself, replied she; For the more disorder I see in your soul, the less disposition I shall have to love you. That must needs be impossible, Madam, replied he: for as the fire burns those that touch it, and the sun enlightens those that see it, so a pure and constant Passion must needs move the heart of her one loves.  
You hope then that I shall love you! (replied Cleonice with such a coldness as made Ligdamis almost despair) I do wish it, Madam, at the least, replied he, but I dare not say 〈◊〉 hope it. 'Tis very well, said she; indeed you could not do me a more manifest injury, then persuade me to love you, and to do that which I have so often condemned in others. Can you imagine, Ligdamis, that I should laugh at all those follies in you, which we both together have condemned in others? Do you think I can take any pleasure to see you miserable for the love of me? to hear you sigh, and make all the crabbed faces which Love uses to force them unto that are subject unto it? Fie, fie, Ligdamis! I cannot endure it: And though I cannot regulate your affection, yet let me limit your hopes; for assure yourself, that a hundred years' languishment, sighs, tears, raptures, expressions, and services shall never obtain any thing from me. Though, Madam, replied he, you cannot be sensible, yet I beseech you be not unjust; but consider that it is yourself who is the cause of my misery, and therefore you are obliged to have some compassion upon me. Then be only unto me, said she unto him, as I am unto Ismenea, my Confident in point of friendship: Love me as you were wont to do, and let me love you only as I do, and be not so unjust as to make me absolutely miserable without a cause.  
I know very well, Madam, said he, that by our Conditions you are not to be a friend to one that is in Love: but those that make laws, can alter them. I do remember that you said one day, the reason why you would never have a Lover for your friend, was, because you once had a friend who fell in love, and was weary of you, and made but short visits; that he talked unto you of nothing but the Party whom he loved; and that you durst not trust him with any secret, because he was sure to reveal it unto his Mistress. But, Madam, you need not fear any of these inconveniences in me: For first, Madam, I do protest I have no joy but in your company; my visits shall last longer than ever; and if you please, I will never speak unto any but yourself. Moreover, Madam, you need not fear my revealing of secrets unto her I most adore, since if I do reveal them, it is only to yourself who trusted me with them; therefore why will you deny me the honour and happiness of seeing you? And give me leave to love you, I beseech you: perhaps your insensibility will cure me sooner than that absence which you condemn me unto: for, Madam, when I am from you, I shall still imagine that if I were with you, I should move your heart; so that hoping still to see you again, I shall hope also to be loved, and by consequence to be continually in love: but if you permit me to continue with you, perhaps your cruelty and inhumanity will destroy my hopes, and afterwards my love. This Remedy, replied Cleonice, is as odd and fantastical as your Passion. It is the only one, replied he, which in reason you can appoint me. Yet let us try absence, said she, for I think less danger to be in it. I remember, Madam, replied he, I have heard you say that the malady which torments me was contagious: but I remember also that Ismonea answered you, that it could never infect you: And certainly, Madam, it cannot, for as long as I have been with you, I could never perceive you the least moved by it▪ Heavens preserve me from such a misfortune! replied she: However, Ligdamis, since I perceive it a thing impossible at present to bring your soul unto Reason, all I can do for you is, to assure you that I am extremely sorry for the loss of your friendship; that you shall ever find it ready for you, as soon as you are out of Love; and in order to that I enjoin you to travel, and see whether that be more prevalent than my reasons.  
If there were any crime in my Passion, answered Ligdamis, or if my pretensions were unjust, than I could not blame you for banishing me; but alas, I ask no more but that you would suffer me to love you: What harm does that which is in my heart do you? has it put you unto any trouble this last month I have been with you? No, replied Cleonice, nothing troubled me, but that I did not know the meaning of your soul. You see then, replied he, that you have no solid foundation for what you say; and that my Passion is not troublesome to you in itself, but only by such imaginations as you apprehend of it: For truly, Madam, the Passion which did not trouble you a month since, was the very same it is now at this time: I profess that I am much more sensible of your miseries then I was, and if it were possible, I am more secret and faithful then ever. Though all this were true, replied Cleonice, yet I have one exception against you, which you cannot answer; which is, that since your heart is capable of this Passion, you may love another as well as me; and if you should, in what a case were my confidence and trust. When I was in love with none, Madam, said he, you had more cause to fear this inconveniency then now, for than it had not been impossible but I might have loved another, and not you: But now I do love you, it is absolutely impossible I should ever love any other; for out of all doubt, you are both my first and my last love: One may perhaps, forsake a mean beauty, and fall upon another of more accomplished parts: but to forsake the fairest and most absolute perfection upon earth for another, was never heard of since Love had dominion in the hearts of men. For my part, said Cleonice, I am so affrighted to hear you talk thus, that I hardly know what I should answer, unless that it is my best course to trust none, but mistrust my own Reason: Therefore Ligdamis, I must needs deny your request, and entreat you to see me no more, at least of a long time. Would you have me die then? replied he. No, said she, but I would have you become wise. Then I conjure you Madam, said he, by that Friendship which you have promised, that I may have eight days allowed to see you I grant it, said she, though you do not deserve the favour: yet it shall be with this condition, that you speak not a word to me of your pretended love.  
Ligdamis then was as thankful unto Cleonice for it, as if she had granted him her heart; and at his parting from her, he came to me with so much joy in his countenance, that I knew very well his heart was really in love: He requested me to mediate for him, in such obliging language as indeed he persuaded me to do him that office: yet I assure you, it was no easy task, for I found Cleonice in such a melancholy mood, and so much perplexed, that she would not hearken unto any but extremely against her will: The Friendship of Ligdamis was none of the least causes of her grief, and her aversion to love, was a great addition to her torment. However, Ligdamis did see her during the eight days she had granted him: but maugre all his violent restraints, he could not hold from uttering some symptoms of his Passion, either by his looks or sighs, or his studies, or else by some words which stole from him unawares. Moreover, as Cleonice was disposed to interpret all his actions that way, so she avoided the encounter of his eyes as much as she could: She bushed as soon as she saw him come near her; She took all care not to sit next him; she did not address any speech unto him, and kept such a strange distance, that I wondered to see such an alteration between them. When I asked Cleonice why she would not behave herself as if she were ignorant of his Passion. She answered me, that she could not for her life do it, and that he must needs be gone from her: For (said she unto me the last day of his allowance) if he continue his love still, and do not go away, I shall hate him extremely. But suppose he do obey you, and go away, said I unto her, and that absence cannot cure him, what would you have him do then? do you think it just he should be eternally banished from his Country, only because he loves you too well? Were he a man you did not esteem, or that he did not deserve it, or that you had an aversion to his person, what could you do more? I should then do much less, said she unto me. I cannot understand your reason for that, replied I, yet I must needs believe you, because I see you let Hermodorus live quietly at Ephesus, though he has loved you long. Hermodorus, replied she, is not a man whom I would honour so much, as to command him any thing. This honour which you do Ligdamis, replied I, may well be called injustice Yet it is a favour, replied she, since I do all I can to preserve his Friendship.  
As she was saying this, Ligdamis came in, with an intention to get his term prolonged. I no sooner saw him, but taking the word from Cleonice, Come Ligdamis, said I unto hime, come and hear the favourable cause of your banishment. Must I then be banished? replied he. Yes answered Cleonice, if I have any power with you. You have it Madam, most absolutely, answered he and sighed; but it is the office of those that have the most sovereign power, not to do all they can, but all they ought to do. And I ought to do all I can, replied she, to infuse reason into your soul, to the end I may keep you my friend. Then you do not hate me, Madam? said Ligdamis. I do acknowledge it, said she, but I shall most infallibly hate you, if you do not obey me: When you have made trial of absence, which I have heard is the only remedy against love; and that I see you use your best endeavours to become wise, then perhaps I shall be so favourable as not to deny you my friendship, but permit you to keep that Passion in your soul, which you cannot exclude. I protest, Cleonice (said I unto her and laughed) this is an admirable good one, to make that which you endure, because you cannot help it, to pass for a great favour, and to oblige men unto impossibilities. Though I see you would persuade me I am to blame, replied she, yet I do not repent it; for if it be impossible for Ligdamis to leave loving me, then let him give me some testimony of his Love: Therefore I conjure you, said she unto him, to make trial of two remedies: The one is absence, the other is ambition: You know Cleander loves you dearly, go then into the Court for six months, and endeavour to drive out one Passion, with another: but I beseech you do not resist me any longer, unless you will have me hate you. I know very well, Madam, replied he, that though I do obey you, yet all will do no good, since wheresoever I am, I am most certain you will be there present in my mind, and I am absolutely incapable of any other ambition but of being in your favour. After this, Cleonice began to speak so earnestly unto Ligdamis, that I knew she would be obeyed; so that I advised him to be contented: For said I unto him, if absence do cure you, than you have good cause to think yourself happy: if it do not, yet you give Cleonce the greatest testimony of your obedience and love that possibly can be. However, Madam, said he unto her, I beseech you promise me, if I punctually obey you, that you will never any more command me to pull that Passion out of my heart, which doubtless will ever be there as long as I live. I promise you I will not, said she unto him: But because this is not enough to keep a languishing exiled Lover alive, replied he; therefore Madam, I beg this favour of your goodness, that in case I do not die of sorrow, but live to return unto you, then that you would be pleased to be the Confident of my passion; no Ligdamis, said she unto him, I do not promise you that: but I assure you, that I will not hate you, if you obey me. In conclusion, Madam, not to trouble you with any impertinent relations, Ligdamis obeyed her. It was easy to find a handsome pretence for his voyage, since it was wondered why he went no ofter to Sardis. I did my endeavours that he might take his leave before he went, but it could not possible be obtained. I saw that the cause of this denial was advantageous for Ligdamis: for she had not refused that favour, but only because she knew it was impossible for her to bid him adieu, without expressing too many visible signs of Friendship to him.  
He departed then with intentions to go unto Sardis, but in the way thither, he heard how Croesus had imprisoned Cleander; so that resolving not to go thither, by reason of this accident which put all Lydia into an universal astonishment, he went unto the Government of his Father, there to spend the time of his exile, and in solitude to lament the misfortunes of Cleander and his own, and almost as much Cleander's as his own; since after so many victories, and so many good services done unto all Lydia, he was a Prisoner without a crime.  
This news being reported at Ephesus, every one was extreme sad; for indeed it was one of the greatest misfortunes that could come to the whole Kingdom: but besides the public interest, which grieved Cleonice as it did the rest, the particular relations of Ligdamis was a great addition unto her sorrows. She went to visit the sister of Ligdamis upon this occasion: but she would not write unto him, though I used all my arguments to persuade her; as for him, he writ often unto me unknown to Cleonice; for I had forget to tell you how this cruel Lady made him promise her to send her no letters, and that if he did write unto me, I should conceal them from her: so that I durst not acquaint her how absence had wrought no effects upon the cure of Ligdamis. In the mean time, Cleonice was exceedingly sad and solitary, so that Artelinda and Phocylides left off their visits. Stenobea, after a hundred chide that she was not jocund enough, was forced to let her alone in quiet: so that Cleonice keeping her chamber very much, I was very often alone with her. At the first, when I began to speak of Ligdamis, she would be angry; yet by degrees she did not only suffer me to talk of him, but also would herself begin the first. One day then when we were alone, after discourse of several other things, I am certain, said she, in what place soever Ligdamis is, he can find none unto whom he can speak concerning me, and therefore I hope he will quickly forget his folly. But said I unto her, and looked earnestly upon her, is it possible you should wish as you say, that Ligdamis should be indifferent towards you? Not as I say! answered she. What do you say? (replied I half angry.) I say (answered she) I wish that Ligdamis should not love me; as for his friendship, I should be ever glad of it, I do confess. But how do you think that is possible? said I unto her: Do you not consider, that if absence do cure a violent passion, it must be by forgetting you, and unaccustoming himself from seeing you? Moreover you do not consider, that he is now no friend unto you; that affection has changed its nature; and in all reason, if the remedy which you have imposed upon him do work that effect which you expect, he will neither be your Lover nor your Friend.  
Ismenea, said she unto her, You are a most cruel woman to examine me so strictly upon a thing which does not please me: however, why is it not possible that the friendship of Ligdamis which became Love, should return to friendship again? I know not well the reason, said I unto her, but I am sure the example of it is very rare. I should be very sorry, replied she, to lose Ligdamis altogether. Yet you expose yourself unto it, said I to her. But since I saw her in a less severe humour, I pray Cleonice, said I, whether had you rather that Ligdamis should be absolutely cured of his passion, and be altogether indifferent towards you; or that he should be in love with another? Since I was ever a friend unto Ligdamis (said she unto me and blushed) I cannot desire he should be cured of one disease, by falling into another; and I had rather lose his affection and love none, then to see him overloaded with fetters. But, said I, suppose there were an absolute necessity that he must either love you or another, which would you choose? I long since told you what I thought upon that, replied she. It is true, said I unto her, but I ask you what you think now? I will not take so much pains, said she, as to think upon it: yet if ever Ligdamis do cure himself of his follies, I shall take a great delight in letting him see the little solidity there is in the hearts of those that are in love; for I protest, Ismenea, I do think upon Ligdamis as much as if he were here at Ephesus. Why then would you have him forget you? said I to her, and laughed: Do you well know what you would have? Think upon it, Cleonice, and think upon it seriously: it would be very fine, if Ligdamis should forget you, and you could not forget him. You speak so fond, replied she, that I will not answer. You may do better to confess you cannot answer, replied I, unless you contradict yourself: for you no sooner wish that Ligdamis should think no more of you, but there is a secret desire in your heart which you cannot resist, that forces you to wish he should think upon you eternally.  
You press me so far, said she unto me, that I have no mind to speak any more of it. You have no mind to be sincere, answered I, nor can you answer directly. I think, replied she, and smiled, you have a mind to make me lose a she-friend as well as a he, and seek to quarrel with me. I know not, answered I, and laughed, whether you will quarrel with me or no; but I am sure you either cannot, or will not answer me. Really, Ismenea, said she unto me, I have told you all I thought; and more than that, I assure you I will answer unto any thing you will ask, and answer truly. Confess then, said I unto her, that you would not have Ligdamis forget you. I do confess it, said she and blushed. And would it not anger you, if he should love another? I do confess it also, replied she, and looked down; though it be only in relation to himself, and not out of any jealousy. Whether had you rather he should always love you, said I unto her, or that he should hate you? Ah Ismenea! replied she, you ask me such odd questions, that I know not how to answer: Yet I think that I should be equally angry at the love and the hatred of Ligdamis. I do not think so, said I unto her: But since you will not clearly explain yourself, I will ask you no more questions; only wish in revenge, that Ligdamis may forget you, that at his return he may love another, and that you cannot forget him. You are very revengeful, I see, said she unto me: but my comfort is, that what you wish will never come to pass: for if Ligdamis do forget me, I shall forget him; so that it shall not disquiet me at all. You have imposed a command upon him, said I unto her, in which you do not desire he should obey you, since if he do, you will punish him. Cleonice after this would have told me, that she appointed him only to banish love from his heart: but I would not stay to hear her, and left her without an answer; conceiving the result of all she had said unto me was, that her friendly disposition unto Ligdamis was grown a little more tender towards him since he departed: Yet I durst not tell her that I sometimes received Letters from him.  
But yet one day when she and I were together, I let one of his Letters fall by chance; which she presently took up, not imagining it to be from Ligdamis: she no sooner had it in her hands, but she knew the writing; and she no sooner knew it, but she blushed extremely. I perceived her first thought was to read it; but her second consideration checked her, and she offered it unto me without looking into it. You are not very inquisitive, I see, Madam, (said I unto her, and would not take it.) Indeed I am not, said she, especially when I am afraid to hear any thing which will not please me. If you please, you may read it, said I unto her. If I could make him such a one as would please me, said she, I wish he were here: but since all my desires cannot change him, I had rather return it unto you unseen. Then I taking it out of her hands, and desiring to anger her a little, to the end I might the better discover her real thoughts; I told her that I would read it aloud unto her, if she would not read it herself. Then, said she, I will not hear you: And after she had said so, she was silent. Then, the better to hide the disorder of her thoughts, she fell to work in a piece of Tissue of gold, which lay upon the Table. After this I rise up also, and seated myself over against her, lest she should see what was really in the Letter, which I read, and feigned these words.  
SOlitude, Ismenea! has done that which Reason could not: for the fair Cleonice shall be no more troubled with my Love. It was not Absence only which cured my disease; I stood in need of a more powerful remedy: And I met with a Lady less fair, I confess, but much more sensible, who makes me very well able to obey those Commands which Cleonice imposed upon me.  
Ha, Ismenea! (said Cleonice, in throwing her work upon the table, and desiring to read it herself) sure this is not the Letter of Ligdamis. Surely it is, said I unto her, and hid it from her, though what is in it does not please you: But pray tell me what you desire I should read. I would not have you read any thing, said she; but I would read it myself, whatsoever is in it. Seeing then the inquisitive disposition of Cleonice, after I had a while resisted her, at last I let her see it; and spoke so, as if what before I feigned to read were really in it. So that immediately opening it, she read these words.  
LIGDAMIS unto ISMENEA.  
IF my adored Cleonice did but know that the less I see her, the more I love her; doubtless she would recall me, though it were only to hinder the augmentation of my Passion. Therefore I beseech you (if you think it fit) let her know, that I shall be at the end of my banishment without all comparison more in love with her, than the first day I began it: The remembrance of her Beauty, her Wit, her Mind, and my desire of seeing her, is the only business of my solitude. This, Ismenea, is my life: which would be happy in the midst of my misery, if I could hope to be neither hated nor forgotten  
LIGDAMIS.  
Whilst Cleonice was reading, I did attentively observe her, and me thought I saw more confusion than anger in her looks. I saw also, that in reading the end of the Letter, where Ligdamis said he should be happy to be neither hated nor forgotten, she smiled a little: Afterwards returning the Letter unto me, and hardly daring to look upon me; You have taken such good order, said she to me, that this last misfortune shall not befall Ligdamis, that he needs not fear it: But cruel woman that you are (said she, and assumed a more serious countenance) what pleasure can you take in tormenting me? I know Ligdamis is your Cousin, and therefore I had been to blame, if I had wished him not to write unto you: But why must I be the subject of his Letters and yours? For my part, said I unto her, since I did only answer Ligdamis, you must accuse him only for speaking of you. As for my particular, when he spoke to me concerning Cleonice, I did not think it civil to answer him concerning Artelinda, or any other, or to answer his Letters any otherwise then to the questions he asked me. But what will you answer him? replied she. I will answer what you please, said I unto her; for I shall not write until to morrow. Whatsoever you write (said she) unto him, do not send him word I have seen his Letter. I do not ask you what I shall not write, said I unto her, but what I shall. You may when I shall tell you, answered she; in the mean time, if you will indeed oblige me, persuade him very earnestly to stifle that passion which procures him nothing but trouble.  
Thus you see, Madam, what were the thoughts of Cleonice, during the exile of Ligdamis, who returned to Ephesus as soon as the time of his banishment was expired, without ask Cleonice any leave. As soon as ever he arrived, he came to see me, to assure me he was no changeling, and to take counsel what he should do. Since I knew the mind of Cleonice very well, I was of opinion that his best course was to send no Messages, before he went himself, and that he should visit Stenobea as he was used to do at the return from his travels. So that harkening unto my advice, he went thither the same day, and I went also, having a great desire to see how this first visit passed; but as ill luck would have it, there was that day so much company with Stenobea, that he had not one minutes opportunity to speak unto Cleonice in private. Artelinda and Phocylides came also thither; and because it was a long time since they had seen Ligdamis, he was the only subject of the conversation. Some accosted him with compliments of sorrow for the imprisonment of Cleander; others assured him they thought his travels long; and Artelinda, according to her humour, told him, she wondered how he could live in such a solitude as he had done, applying herself after this, to make a very pleasant Satire of the Country; Maintaining, that to be in it eight day together, were enough to make one stupid, melancholy, and insensible for ever, and concluded, since Ligdamis had been there six months, though his spirit was never so great, yet he must needs be very melancholy, or for ever insensible. Whilst Artelinda was thus talking, Ligdamis was so perplexed, that he knew not what to answer; and Cleonice was so troubled, that she had little delight in that days conversation, though the next day she had more: For Ligdamis came to my house, whither she also came with intentions to desire me, that I would deliver her from this obstinate Lover, whom she had no desire to lose. When she saw him, she thought I had sent for him, though I did not; but yet, after she had chid me a little for it, she stayed with me: So that we three only being alone, Ligdamis addressing himself towards her, and looking upon her in such a manner as might let her see his soul was the same: You see me here Madam, said he unto her, at the end of my banishment; but it is you only who can tell me whether I be at the end of my misery, and whether you will permit that man, who cannot be your friend, or leave off loving you, to relate the sorrows which absence hath procured him. I had rather you would tell me what courses you have taken, said she unto him, to overcome your unjust Passion. Alas, Madam, replied he, how could I ever hope to overcome it, since I was never able to master my will so far, as to fight against it? I had not banished you, replied she, but to the end you should. I know it, Madam, answered he, but as soon as ever my will went about it, my heart, my mind, my reason, and all my faculties rebelled against me, and I could not choose but continually repent my opposing so well grounded a Passion; a Passion, I say, so noble, so pure and divine, that the most severe virtue could not condemn it: So that Madam I must love you, and love you as long as I live; and so that if my love be insufferable to you, there is no other way to free yourself from it, but by commanding me to die: If it be your pleasure, Madam, so to doom it, I am resolved upon obedience; for as soon as I see the divine Cleonice can better endure my death then my love, despair will presently do it: Speak then Madam, is it your pleasure I should live or die? you are absolute Mistress of my Destiny, and may make me what you please. If I could, answered Cleonice, I should make you my Friend, and Ligdamis should be no longer a Lover. Yet, Madam, said be unto her, is it not possible to accustom yourself to endure I should love you a little more than I did before, and to acquaint you with my sufferings. You promised as much, when I parted from you, and told me you would receive my services, as testimonies of my friendship. I have every day for six months together suffered a thousand torments; and in lieu of accepting my obedience according to your promise, will you prepare new punishments for me? That would not be just (said I, and interrupted them) and if Cleonice will follow my advice, she should not be so rigorous. Why do you say so Ismenea, said she unto me: Can you be so much biased by your affection to Lygdamis, as to counsel me unto any gallantry with him? That word, said I unto her, is a little too much; but I do confess, I know no reason why you should treat Ligdamis, as if he were not so much as your friend; for we are obliged to love our friends in miseries, as well as in happiness. I do confess, said she, that they who do not so, are only the false friends of prosperity, and deserve not that glorious title of friend. Then if Ligdamis said I unto her, hath lost his reason by any manner of misfortune, and seeks all remedies to cure himself of all his miseries and follies, but can find none, would you not endeavour to ease him, and much pity his misfortune? Doubtless I should, replied she. Then why do you not? said I unto her and laughed? for do you not see that he is not master of his reason? though you do not grant him so much affection as perhaps his folly desires, yet receive his affection with some kind of sweetness; for it is not the part of true Friendship, to forsake him in so great a misfortune as his is, to love one that is insensible: And for my part, if you use him so, you must give me leave to think you make no other use of your friends, but to serve your own ends, and to divert you, since you cannot endure they should trouble you once in their lives. Cleonice hearing me say so, began to smile, and Ligdamis to thank me: And he afterwards joined his most persuasive Rhetoric unto mine, and we so overcame her, that after two hours converse, we obtained that Ligdamis should stay in Ephesus, and that he should see her, but still upon condition, never to speak unto her of any Love matters.  
Thus then were some days spent, but since it was not possible for Ligdamis to lock up his love so close in his heart, but that it would break out in some of his actions or words, there was not a day but Cleonice and he had two or three quarrels. But Cleonice did insensibly accustom herself to answer him; and though it was always with a spirit of contradiction, yet it was a great comfort unto him to talk of that which took up his whole soul: And indeed it came to that pass at last, that Cleonice became the Confident of his Passion, and could not endure he should speak of any thing else. And though she always advised him never to hope for any thing, and often commanded him to quench his flames, yet in the end she had no desire to be obeyed: She would often be so melancholy, that every one would chide her: At the first this surprised me, because I never saw her in such an humour before; but after I had discovered the fantastical cause of her melancholy, which took her often, and left her often: and I found the fit would always take her when contrary to her intention she had spoken a little more sweetly concerning Ligdamis then she intended; and when her memory did chide herself for being not sharp enough with him, she would be sure to be dogged all that day, both towards herself and all that came near her; and on the contrary, when she had the power to treat him ill, she appeared more pleasant, and nothing but joy could be seen in her eyes: Also, one could never see them both in a good humour at one time; for when Ligdamis was ravished with joy at some favourable word which Cleonice had spoke, than she was always melancholy; and when he was sad at any harsh passage from her, than would, she be exceedingly pleasant, so great was her care to hinder him from seeing she was not insensible: Yet it is most certain, she did not hate him; and though she would not call her affection by the name of Love, yet her change was so much, that it deserved no other name: For a hundred trivial passages, which slipped from her unawares, did sufficiently manifest as much. I remember, that whilst he passed under the notion of her friend only, she cared not in what dress he saw her; and I have seen him in her chamber some days, when her dress was so careless, that any other beauty but hers would have lost its▪ lustre; and I am confident she did never once in all her life consult with her glass how to please him: But since his return it is otherwise; for Ligdamis never could see her till she was dres●: She made a show as if her design in it, was only to wean him by degrees, from that familiarity he had with her; but the true design was, that Ligdamis might think her more fair. I humbly ask your pardon, Madam, for making such an exact relation of every trivial passage; for since you commanded it, I hope my obedience will plead for my excuse.  
Be pleased to know further, that as love cannot lie long hid, so Hermodorus, Artelinda and Phocylides presently came to know that Ligdamis was in love, and in love with Cleonice: So that the Passion of Hermodorus augmented, the Love of Phocilides revived, and the Hatred of Artelinda renewed and became more violent; for she was so vexed to see the heart of Ligdamis resist her charms, and be captivated by Cleonice's, that she uttered a hundred symptoms of envy. Moreover, as it is the custom of many Ladies that are a little too gallantly inclined, to justify themselves by accusing others, she divulged it in two or three days throughout the Town, that Ligdamis was in love with Cleonice; adding further, that Cleonice was not so hardhearted as she was wont to be, saying in her railierie, that Love had wounded two hearts with one blow. The noise of it was so great in so little time, that it did not only come presently unto my ears, but it reached Cleonice's also, who heard it with more sorrow than I can express: for I saw many signs of anger break out at her eyes; but I could not tell whether it was against Ligdamis, or against Artelinda, or against herself; and she would not explain herself, but spoke many things which much puzzled me: Yet I certainly knew that Ligdamis was upon better terms in her heart than he believed himself. For whatsoever she said against Ligdamis, or Artelinda, or herself, she never said she would quit Ligdamis: but on the contrary, whatsoever she said, she added this unto it, That if she should change her manner of living with Ligdamis, it would be an occasion to make the world believe all that Artelinda said was true: Afterwards she would say, that since this was only her own thought, she would use the matter so as none should ever think Ligdamis in love with her. But in conclusion, when she had uttered many contrarieties, and saw that all her past severity could not hinder the world from saying that Ligdamis loved her: Am I not very unhappy, said she, that after I have passed all my life in quietness and honour, I should now be exposed to the Railierie of Artelinda?  
But Madam, said I unto her, this is not so great a crime as if you had loved him; for except Artelinda, none says that you love Ligdamis. If I had lived after the manner of others, answered she, you had spoken well: But to hear such reports upon myself after I have professed such a strict severity, believe me (Ismenea) is a most sensible grief unto me. Cleonice spoke this with so many signs of real displeasure in her face, that indeed I was sorry for her; and desiring to be a little more complacential towards her, Madam (said I) since it does so much trouble and torment you, though Ligdamis be my friend, yet I advise you to forsake him, and banish him the second time. Ah Ismenea, said she unto me and blushed, if I could do so, I had done it ere this; but to my misfortune, Ligdamis has more of my heart than I have myself: Not that I can call my apprehensions of him Love, (said she in reprehending herself, and not desiring to tell the truth) but that my friendship to him is so tender and violent, that I cannot deprive myself of his sight and conversation. We will call this affection what you please, (said I unto her) yet since it is so, the matter is easily decided; for of two evils the lesser being to be chosen, it is better to make choice of that which will afford you some hours of consolation, then of that which will afford you none at all. But (said I) my advice is not to satisfy yourself by doing any act which is contrary to handsomeness; nor do I counsel you to regulate your actions by the different opinions of all the men in a great Town: it will be sufficient if you do nothing contrary to the universal received customs of all good persons, nor any thing which may wound virtue. This done, you may rest your mind in quiet, and never let the capricious censures of others disturb the pleasure of your life. But said Cleonice unto me, I know not well whether this manner of living with Ligdamis, though it be most innocent, yet whether it be not contrary to that exact handsomeness which you speak of; for the truth is, I know he is in Love, and I perceive I am so much his friend that I cannot hate him. For my part, said I unto her, it does not seem to me to be criminal; especially if it be considered that your quality and the quality of Ligdamis is equal, and by consequence you may marry; and since so, I do not see that Virtue would have any that are to marry to hate one another. All passions (said I) certainly are not crimes, though heretofore you have thought so; there are some Loves which are innocent and allowable: Therefore do not uncalm your Mind, upon every light blast of common Report.  
You know, said she unto me, that the Father of Ligdamis is resolved to marry him unto none but one. It is true, replied I: but you may well conceive, that since Ligdamis would not obey him when he loved none, he will not obey him now when he is in love with you: Therefore without taking notice of any Reports, I advise you to live with Ligdamis as you was accustomed: The noise which is vogued abroad, will quickly die; for since you know Artelind● will find so many several subjects of fresh discourse, within three days the Love of Ligdamis will be no more talked on. However I conjure you, said she unto me, not to tell him that I confess I cannot banish him. But said I unto her, and laughed, since the affection you bear him is only friendship, why will you hide the greatness of it? Believe me, Cleonice, it is not usual to make any secret of friendship; but on the contrary, it is so violent in some, that they cannot hide it. Well, well, Ismenea, replied she, I understand you very well: but though what you think were true, yet must I tell you every thought of my soul? Yes, said I unto her, if you love sincerity: But since you do not, I will be so complacential as to name every thing as you please; and call that Love which Ligdamis bears you, Hatred.  
After this, Madam, the mind of Cleonice was much more quiet, and Ligdamis more happy. All reports (as I said) died; for Artelinda gave so many new causes of talk concerning herself, that nothing else was spoke of; and she did not only continue the entertainment of that multitude of Servants about her, but another notable adventure fell out, which was this. As she was one morning writing several Letters unto three or four of her Lovers, unto which she gave several directions, and writing at the same time unto Cleonice to justify herself concerning what she had said against her; after she had writ all the Letters, she would write no Superscriptions upon the top; and he to whom she gave the Letters, though he was a witty Knave, and accustomed unto such offices, yet did he deceive her that day, in distributing them not according to her directions. So that one of these Lovers, whom she appointed to meet at the Temple of Diana, by one of her Letters, received another Letter which was not intended to him, and which appointed him to that same day and visit a Lady which he never saw, who was his most mortal enemy. That Letter which appointed the meeting at the Temple of Diana, was carried unto a man of quality who was a stranger, and had not been long in Ephesus: He was one, who according to the religion of his own Country, would not adore the Gods in any Temples which were built with the hands of men; so that this Letter did extremely surprise him. Artelinda had writ another unto one of her Lovers (who was to go out of town that day) that he would meet her in the way as she went to the Temple, to the end she might there bid him adieu. But in lieu of that Letter, he received another which was not intended to him, but unto another, by which she desired him to meet her at evening in the Walks by the seaside: And that which was intended for the other, was brought unto Cleonice; and that which was intended for Cleonice, was carried unto another. So that this variety of mistakes made the best sport in the world.  
When the mistaken Letter was brought unto Cleonice, we were all together; and she wondered that Artelinda, with whom she was not friends, should write to her. She opened then this Letter very hastily; but when she looked upon the Character, she presently knew it to be the same in which she used to write unto her Gallants, and not that in which she used to write unto her friends. Then Cleonice and I began to read these words, which did not at all concern her.  
IF you will be in the street which leads unto the Temple of Diana, about that hour I use to go thither; I shall understand from your own mouth, what thoughts you have of me, at parting; and you may understand from mine, how much your absence will trouble me.  
After we had read this Letter, we knew that he who brought it was mistaken; but I advised Cleonice to say nothing unto the man, but that she would do as his Mistress desired: And indeed we did not go with less desire to be at the appointed place, than perhaps that Lover would have done for whom it was intended. Cleonice gave orders, that they should acquaint her when Artelinda went out of her house, that we might follow after her; which was easily done, because both were neighbours. Therefore we no sooner knew of her going out, but we also went out at a backdoor which was nearest that street where the appointment was; knowing well we should find her on foot, because it was not the custom of Ephesus to go unto the Temple of Diana in Coach. As soon as we spied her, we began to walk softly, that we might observe what she did; and we saw her look towards the place where she expected her Lover, very seriously and often; then she walked very softly, in hopes still of his coming, having none with her but one woman who was acquainted with all her secrets. But at the last turning towards us, we came nearer her and met. She no sooner saw Cleonice, (who she thought had received her Letter, in which she desired her to stay within at her own house after dinner) but addressing herself, Come Cleonice, said she, it is not in this place where I must justify myself; therefore I beseech you let me have the honour after dinner to talk with you. And then she would have left her: But Cleonice craftily staying her, (and counterfeiting very handsomely) Then have you changed your mind, said she unto her, for your Letter appointed this place, and I thought you were going some journey by the expressions of your Letter. Artelinda blushed at this discourse; and apprehending that he who carried the Letters was mistaken, and had given one Letter for another, she was in a great fume; yet being both crafty and bold, she turned it to laughter, and asked to see the Letter, to the end she might get it out of Cleonice's hands: She said by way of excuse, that she had writ it unto one of her Cousins, who was not upon good terms with her mother, and was going into the Country; but Cleonice having no disposition to restore it, said she had left it at home. Yet since Artelinda knew she had writ many others, and that the same mistake might chance have happened to them also, her mind was very much disordered: She durst not return back, or would she go unto the Temple, hoping still that perhaps he who was appointed to meet, had received the right Letter, and would come: But yet not seeing him, she did more and more doubt the universal disorder of all her Letters; so that being in a restless impatience, she left us and returned home, where she found all the Answers of her Lovers, which did sufficiently confirm her in the mistake: He who was to go out of Town in the morning, and had received an appointment to meet in the evening at the seaside, complained against her for her cruel kind of Raillery, and went out of Ephesus with a mind much incensed against her. He who never came into Temples, and had received an pppointment to meet in the Temple of Diania, said it was enough to make him change his Religion, and adore only her eyes. He who had received that Letter which was intended for Cleonice, wherein she desired him to stay at home, that she might come and justify herself, writ back to her, that he was not worthy of so much honour, as that she should come to his house; nor knew he why she should justify herself of any thing; yet adding notwithstanding, that he would obey her. For be pleased to know, Madam, that the Letter was written so, that it would serve either to a man or a woman. Moreover, he who had received that Letter which appointed him to go unto a Lady whom he never saw, and who was his mottal enemy, thinking that Artelinda mocked him, did answer her in anger: Insomuch, as Artelinda designing to favour four Lovers in a morning, disobliged them all, and gave a full subject of revenge unto Cleonice: Yet would she not publish this adventure at the first; but I, who was not so indulgent as she, told it unto one of my friends, who divulged it all over the Town: So that all these Lovers having heard what happened unto Cleonice, every one of them believed her and themselves both injured by Artelinda.  
Moreover, Artelinda was so very angry with him that had so grossly mistaken her Letters, and used him so ill, that he told it unto very many: and in a few days the thing was so universally known, that all these Lovers, except him who was absent, showed their Letters one unto another, and had so many jeers for Artelinda, that Cleonice found her full revenge: She found from thence another benefit, which was, that they never after this spoke a word more concerning the love of Ligdamis; So that both Ligdamis and she did for some days enjoy all the happiness that an innocent Love could afford: Yet did Cleonice cause some angry hours unto Ligdamis, because she could not be persuaded that love could last long: So that though she agreed so far with him as to believe his love was very great, yet she told him time would wear it out: So that it may be said, she disquieted herself when fortune did not. She did divers times hinder Ligdamis from persuading his father to alter his mind concerning his marriage, and to permit him to address himself unto Stenobea, to obtain her consent of Leonice, telling him he must never be too hasty in business; and that perhaps his love would lessen, and that she would have a long trial of his Passion. And though Ligdamis thought this trial she already had was enough, yet his respect of her was so great, that he durst not importune her against any thing she much desired, especially since he had no other distempers of Love, but only impatience. For though Hermodorus was still in love with Cleonice, also Phocylides had a great mind that way, and likewise many others, yet was he not jealous, but was as happy as any Lover could be, who had not the full enjoyments of his Mistress.  
Then Madam, questionless you know that the Princess of Lydia was brought unto Ephesus, presently after the imprisonment of Cleander. At that time Ligdamis being there, he sought all occasions to do him the best offices he could; and it was indeed by his means, that Esope, who was then at Sardis, conveyed many Letters from this illustrious Prisoner unto that Princess, and by whom she returned answers. Though the business was then very secretly carried, and none knew it, except Esope; yet since it was known, Cleander loved Ligdamis very well, Hermodorus having some confused knowledge long since, that he received some Letters from the Princess, yet not knowing to whom they were directed, did secretly acquaint Croesus, that Ligdamis did plot something with the Princess his daughter: Yet Croesus not daring to arrest him, because he knew his father was at his Government; he would therefore endeavour to remove him first, and in order to that, he sent for the father under some pretence or other, to come unto him, and gave orders to arrest the son at Ephesus, the same day the father came to Sardis: But since he had many friends at Court, he was acquainted with the design of Croesus; So that seeming to be sick, he sent his excuse to the King, and sent at the same time to Ligdamis, to acquaint him also, that he should come away in all haste.  
I leave you to judge Madam, how sad this story was unto two, who thought themselves unhappy if they did not see one another every day: However, there was a necessity that Ligdamis must depart, and he did so, the saddest man alive. He offered above twenty times to disobey his father; but when Cleonice considered that perhaps she might be a cause of his imprisonment, she herself did haste his departure. Then did she begin again to complain against Love, yet not being able to wish that Ligdamis should leave loving her; she said this Passion made none any thing else but unfortunate. But as if it were not enough to be grieved for the absence and misfortune of Ligdamis, she must also suffer the persecution of Hermodorus; whose only end of prosecuting against his Rival, was to profit by his disgrace. He asked Cleonice of Stenobea in marriage, who made him a promise of it, if he could obtain the consent of her daughter. Phocylides also was more importunate than before; and since it was impossible for him to hide all his melancholy, Artelinda did explain the cause of it for him, unto all those that could not guests it without her: So that Cleonice was beleaguered by all sorts of sorrows at once. The sister of Ligdamis being married to a man of good quality, whose estate was on this side the river Hermes, went thither with her husband; and there stayed not in Ephesus, any with whom she might talk of Ligdamis, except me. In the mean time, Croesus seeing his design took no effect, and not conceiving it expedient to begin a civil war in his own dominions, when he expected a foreign war upon himself, did dissemble his Resentments, seeming to be satisfied with the excuse which the father of Ligdamis sent him, and expressing no discontent at all; yet for all that, his design was, as soon as Ligdamis or his father came out of that place, to secure their persons; and they having intelligence of these intentions, by friends which certainly knew it, it might be said they were Prisoners, out of fear of being so; for they never came out of the Castle of Hermes: yet Ligdamis obtained once of his father, to come disguised unto Ephesus (under colour of discovering some important business) to see Cleonice.  
You may imagine, Madam, how I wondered to see him come one night into my chamber in a Phrygian habit, which made me at first not know him; yet he no sooner spoke unto me (and desired me to conceal that I knew him, unless I durst trust my women) but I knew him: So that I not considering his voyage was caused by Cleonice, Ah me Ligdamis, said I unto him, good Gods, what brought you hither? Alas Ismenea, said he, I am much more miserable than I thought I was; for since you do not know me, it is an evident sign that Cleonice does not think my Passion as violent as hers. She thinks hers more violent than yours, replied I, but I believe she does not think you discreet enough, in hazarding that life which is so dear unto her as yours is: For if you should be taken in Ephesus, in a disguised habit, you gave your enemies a sufficient ground to ruin you. It is no matter, said he to me, so I may but have the happiness to see Cleonice: Therefore to lose no time, dear Ismenea, procure me that favour. When I heard Ligdamis speak with so much zeal, and perceiving that he had rather see Cleonice, then return into safety; I sent to desire Stenobea, she would be pleased to permit Cleonice to come unto me, to assist me in a business wherein she might do me a great favour: I would not name any manner of divertisement, lest Stenobea herself, loving all pleasures, should be there also: But my device did not hit as I hoped; for she thinking it to be some music matter, or such diversion, sent me word that she would herself bring her, as indeed within an hour after she did.  
You may well imagine how Ligdamis lamented this accident, since he must not see his dear Cleonice all that night; yet since there was no remedy, I put him in my Closet, and sat down upon my bed, in expectation of Stenobea, who came presently after, in hopes to find some very considerable divertisement. The merriest part of all the adventure was, that she acquainted all the company which was with her with my message, who all also came unto my lodging with her; so that in less than three quarters of an hour, half the Town was in my chamber, which did exceedingly amaze me; and the more, because I saw all that were there, expected something more than they found. However, though I knew none in the company would offer to go into my Closet, yet I was in a great perplexity, that I could not get them out of my Chamber: For as for Stenobea, since she was a Lover of much company, and found it there, she never complained, nor would she suffer any others to complain that they were deceived in their expectation. But at the last, I was so out of all patience at this passage, and complained so much, as I plainly told them all, I had no other design to see any that night, but only Cleonice: who seeing so much Company did trouble me in earnest, entreated her Mother to depart, and to begin the example unto others. So that Stenobea rising up first, did lead the way out, and all the rest followed, leaving only Cleonice with me.  
After all this multitude was gone, which so troubled me, and grieved Ligdamis, I rise up and laughed at the accident. Then Cleonice looking upon me, and seeing by my countenance that I had no very serious business with her; Is it true, Ismenea, said she unto me, that you had some real business with me, or did you send for me only to divert you? My principal design, said I unto her, has not been to please you; for you shall presently see, that I regarded the interest of another more than yours. Upon that, I opened my Closet-door; and putting her in first, I followed after her and shut the door. When she saw one there in a Phrygian habit, she stood in a maze; and much more, when he threw himself at her feet, and took her by the hand; Madam! (saying unto her) it was impossible for me to live, and not to see you. Cleonice knowing at first the voice of him that was so dear in her thoughts, could not choose but joy at it, and pardoned me for so deceiving her, and answered his complaint in a most civil and obliging manner. But presently after, considering that if it were known Ligdamis was in Ephesus disguised, they would arrest him, and perhaps make that a crime against the State, which was only an effect of Love, her joy did lessen; and her further fear was, that this meeting, if it were known, would reflect upon her reputation. So that repenting of her obliging language, and her expressions of joy; Truly Ligdamis, (said she after we were set down) Those who say the first thoughts of women are always the best, do not always say true; since at the first I had an extreme delight in seeing you, yet my second thoughts tell me that my first were unjust, and that I ought to chide you: For to speak rationally, why do you put your own liberty and life into hazard? and why do you expose me to be suspected as a Confederate with you? My reason is, Madam, replied he, because there is a fatal must upon me; that is, I must either see you, or die: And as for your confederacy or honour, Madam, I cannot believe it to be in any danger, for your virtue is above the reach of calumny. Therefore (Madam) I beseech you permit me to enjoy the happiness and satisfaction of discourse with you; and be so good as to tell me whether my disgrace and banishment hath not caused a change in your soul? and whether Ligdamis must be hated both by Croesus and by you, because he has the honour to be in the illustrious Cleander's favour? You wrong me extremely, replied she, to suspect me of any such unworthiness; and I should resent it so, if you would not perhaps think that I took an occasion to quarrel with you: To prevent which, I will forget the injury, and assure you that your misfortunes make my friendship to you more tender than before. Ligdamis was transported with joy at this obliging answer; and replied in such acknowledging terms, as spoke his soul to be full of violent Love.  
Thus did we pass away this evening together, Cleonice forcing him to promise he would be gone the next morning before break of day; for she extremely feared that his stay any longer would hazard a discovery. His desires were to see her once more, but he could not possibly obtain it from her; so that he contented himself with staying as late with us as handsomely he could. Cleonice endeavoured to hide the excess of her sorrow at this parting, with as much care as Ligdamis took to express his: But do what she could, it appeared in her eyes; and both of them were so excessively sad, that I profess I was exceeding sorry for them. After Cleonice was gone, Ligdamis stayed still a long while with me discoursing of her, and entreating me to continue his friendly solicitor. But in conclusion, it being very late, he left me also, and went to the house of a friend where he stayed till break of day. This friend, whom be thought to be the most faithful servant in the world unto him, he trusted him with all the business of his voyage: But, Madam, be pleased to know that this friend, how faithful soever in appearance, proved to be the Spy of Hermodorus, who underhand did use all possible endeavours to ruin Ligdamis, and marry Cleonice. So that being advertised by this Agent, that Ligdamis was in Ephesus disguised, that he was in his house, and that he had been at my house with Cleonice; after Hermodorus had well considered what course to take, he sent six men whom he hired with money, to seize upon the person of Ligdamis, to take away his sword, and to guard him in the the chamber where they found him, appointing them to tell Ligdamis that they arrested him by command from the Governor of Ephesus. This course being resolved upon, it was presently executed: for he in whose house Ligdamis lodged, did himself open the door unto those who would arrest a Delinquent unto the State. So that Ligdamis lying down to sleep, found himself a Prisoner when he waked, and disabled to resist their violence.  
In the mean while Hermodorus, being very glad he had his Rival in his power, did most impatiently wait for an opportunity to see Cleonice. But since mornings were not fit hours to visit Ladies, he stayed till the afternoon; and then he came so soon after dinner, that he found her alone in her chamber. After he had rendered an officious Compliment, which she returned very coldly: Madam, said he unto her, I am very sorry that I must augment that melancholy which is in your eyes; yet I thought it my duty to acquaint you that Ligdamis is a Prisoner. Ligdamis a Prisoner! (replied Cleonice infinitely astonished) than they have surprised the Castle of Hermes. No, Madam, replied he; it is in this Town that he is taken in a disguise by a man of my acquaintance; who hoping to have a great recompense from Croesus for seizing upon a Delinquent against the State, he desired me to lend him a house of mine in the way to Sardis, to keep him in more safety. But Madam I knowing how dear the life of Ligdamis is unto you, I have contrived a way to release him if you please. I perceive, Madam, by the trouble of your countenance, that you suspect the truth of my words: but the better to persuade you, I need only tell you that he came disguised unto Ephesus in a Phrygian habit, and that he has seen you at the lodging of Ismenea. Cleonice after this not doubting the truth, changed countenance and discourse; and looking upon Hermodorus as a man who might release Ligdamis; Hermodorus, said she unto him, I cannot deny but that the misfortune of him you name does exceedingly trouble me: for besides his being a kinsman unto Ismenea whom I love very well, he is also my friend, and such a friend, that I would do any thing to release him; therefore I conjure you for my sake, if it be in your power, to do it. Doubtless I can, replied he: but Madam, I know not whether you will do one thing which is absolutely necessary for the obtaining of his liberty. It must be either a crime, or an impossibility, replied she, if I will not: As for things only difficult, I will attempt them all to save the life of any unfortunate man that is a very stranger unto me, much sooner for a friend whom I infinitely esteem. Be pleased then to resolve, Madam, said he unto her, not only to save the life of Ligdamis, but of Hermodorus also: Yes, Madam, you may save them both with one word; and you shall no sooner consent that Hermodorus shall be happy, but Ligdamis shall be released. Cleonice was so surprised at this discourse of Hermodorus, that she looked upon him and could not answer, and began to suspect the truth: Hermodorus, said she unto him, are not you the man that hath arrested Ligdamis? I beseech you Madam (said he unto her) before I tell you the place where he is, or who arrested him, answer to what I said unto you: Ligdamis is a disgraced man, and will never be in a condition to express his love again at Ephesus. Ligdamis, replied she in a great fury, is a man most illustrious; and disgraced as he is, I prefer before you or any other. But Hermodorus, you have told me enough: for since I see it is in your power to release Ligdamis, you must either do it, or else resolve upon my hatred, and that unto such a degree as I shall never be at rest until I take revenge; but on the contrary, if you can be so generous as to release him without any conditions, I should be so much obliged to you, that certainly I should treat you much better than heretofore; but to think you should tyrannically engage me to marry you, that is a thing which you can never bring me to,▪ though it were to save my own life as well as the life of Ligdamis. But Madam, I beseech you would you have me release my Rival, to the end he may supplant me and take away my life, as I have preserved his? Consider this, Madam, I beseech you, and do not so hastily pronounce a sentence of death against Ligdamis. Oh thou most cruel man! cried she out, being transported by excess of sorrow; Can you commit so horrid a sin? Madam, replied he, you know if he fall into the hands of Croesus, he is in danger; yet doubtless I shall not help him, unless you help me. Is there no spark of Generosity in you? said she unto him. Generosity, replied he, bids me not make myself miserable by releasing my Rival; it is sufficient in those that are most generous, not to hurt another though it be in their power. But, said she, you no sooner release this Rival, but he flies away presently, and will be gone far off from Ephesus. It may be so, replied he: but as far as he is off you, he will be still in your Heart; and therefore, Madam, I must ask it, before I release him who keeps me from it. My Heart, replied she, is not so easily obtained as you suppose. You will then not release Ligdamis, replied he. You will then not merit my esteem, answered she, since at my request you will not do a thing, which your own interest should prompt you unto, if you loved your honour.  
Honour (replied Hermodorus very sharply) is doubtless a glorious attribute, but a Lover thinking it to consist in the enjoyment of her he loves, it is not strange I should set another price upon the liberty of Ligdamis then Cleonice does. Yet, Madam, consider upon it, and I will come to receive your ultimate answer to morrow morning. Cleonice seeing Hermodorus ready to leave her, she stayed him, and forcing herself with much ado, she began to speak him fair; and entreated him to tell her where Ligdamis was, but he would not tell her: So that changing from fair words to threatenings again, she spoke as much as anger and sorrow could invent, in behalf of him she loved: But fearing least this course should hasten the destruction of Ligdamis, she fell to her supplications again: But since she could not possibly tell Hermodorus she would marry him, he left her, saying he would expect her answer in the morning; and that he gave her this time to consider, lest she should repent of any hasty resolutions: And so he went out, leaving Cleonice in a most miserable condition.  
She sent immediately unto me, and longed to impart the pitiful story; and I went the very same hour unto her house, where I heard her relate all the passages in such terms as would have moved compassion out of the most hard and insensible soul. After than I had participated of her sorrows, and a long time descanted upon this sad adventure, we sent unto that friend's house, with whom Ligdamis said he would lodge, and where yet he was, to try if we could discover how he was taken. But the wife of this perfidious man being instructed by her husband, said that he was gone out by break of day, as soon as the gates of the Town were open, and that she knew no more of him. You may then very well imagine, Madam, how Cleonice grieved at the misfortune of Ligdamis: In the mean time, we could not contrive how to prevent the sad consequences of this fatal accident; for to acquaint the Governor of Ephesus how these men who arrested Ligdamis, had no authority to keep him, and that in all likelihood it was Hermodorus who had done this wrong, were only to deliver Ligdamis from Hermodorus, into the hands of Croesus, for every one knew how the Governor had orders to arrest him if ever he came to Ephesus: so that there was no more safety for him in sending him to the King of Lydia, then there was in the tyranny of his Rival: Yet since Cleonice apprehended him to be in much danger under his Rival, she determined, that if Hermodorus when he came to her, would not be persuaded to reason, then to acquaint the Governor with the business: For by this course, said she, though I do not release Ligdamis, yet I shall punish Hermodorus, and he shall not die by his hand. 'Tis very true, said I unto her, but will his death be welcomer unto you one way then the other? and do you not consider that this way will let all the world know, Ligdamis was with you at my house, and perhaps make them believe you were the cause of his coming? But which way, replied she, can I colour it? Shall I marry Hermodorus, to release Ligdamis? Ah Ismenea, he would think his liberty then bought at too dear a rate, and yet I see no other way to get him out of the hands of his enemy, but by exposing myself. Then there is no more to be said, but that I must resolve to die; for though I had so much power with myself as to overcome my strong aversion to Hermodorus, and should give him satisfaction, yet perhaps he would not release Ligdamis.  
Afterwards considering what reports would be of her, when it should be known that Ligdamis had seen her in secret, she knew not what to resolve upon; and sometimes fearing the life of Ligdamis, sometimes her own reputation, she was most extremely troubled: But in conclusion, after a hundred several imaginations, I advised her to acquaint a Kinsman unto Ligdamis who was at Ephesus with this passage; to the end, that when Hermodorus came unto her in the morning, he might by strong hand seize upon his person, and tell him that he knew Ligdamis was in his power; and so he might release the one with the other. At the first, we found no obsticle in the business, like those who think the execution of any thing which they earnestly desire, to be easy: But upon second consideration, we found Stenobea to be a considerable hindrance, because she was a favourer of Hermodorus, and consequently would not suffer any violence to him in her house; yet presently after, Cleonice remembered that the next day her mother was to go into the Country fifty furlongs off, and would not return till the next day: This obstacle therefore being removed, we thought our design to be the best and only expedient we could take.  
Then I left Cleonice, and went to my own house, where I was no sooner come, but I sent for this Cousin unto Ligdamis, who was a very stout courageous man, and fit for such an attempt: Assoon as he came, I told him his business, and he undertook it according to my wish; so that to lose no time, he procured a convenient number of assistants, requisite for the execution. Cleonice and I expected the morning with much impatience. Ligdamis for his part, he knew not what to think upon the adventure; for though he was arrested in the name of the Governor, yet he knew that they who arrested him were not his Soldiers: Moreover, he saw they let him be in the house of one whom he took to be his friend, though the Traitor had not so much boldness as to show himself since he was arrested. He could not guests at the truth of the business; but he told us afterwards, that the sorrows which he thought Cleonice would apprehend in his misfortunes, did trouble him more than his own danger. As for Hermodorus, I believe his thoughts were more turbulent than either Ligdamis or Cleonice, since I cannot think it possible to commit any vile act with a quiet conscience.  
Yet, Madam, this longed for morning being come, Stenobea being gone, and I with Cleonce, the Kinsman of Ligdamis also being in my house, with his assistants, waiting till I sent him word that Hermodorus was come. Cleonice and myself thought ourselves in a worst condition than before: and though we did most earnestly desire the liberty of Ligdamis, yet when we came to the very point of executing our design, we disliked it; and we were so little accustomed to tumults and noise, that out of our weakness we disapproved of that, which our reason and affection wished were done. In the mean time, minutes seemed hours unto us, and hours days, and it was noon, and not a word of Hermodorus; who whether he had seen me with the Kinsman of Ligdamis, or out of his subtlety foresaw the accident, I know not, but he resolved not to come, and only sent a Letter. When we had lost almost all our patience in a long expectation, we saw a man, who was not his own; come unto us, and gave a Letter unto Cleonice, the sense whereof was this:  
HERMODORUS unto CLEONICE.  
SInce my resolution depends upon yours, Madam, I sent to know what yours is; but I beseech you consider, that if it be not favournble unto him who loves you most of all the world, it shall be fatal unto him whom you love best: Consider seriously, and answer favourably, lest you repent when it is too late.  
HERMODORUS.  
After that Cleonice had read this Letter, she seemed so desperate, that I thought she would have died with grief. I asked him who brought it, where Hermodorus was? And he answered, that he thought he was at his own house; and said that it was one of his men who brought this Letter to him, commanding him from his Master to deliver it, and bring an answer. In the mean time Cleonice knew not what to resolve upon: but upon second and serious thoughts she writ back these words:  
CLEONICE unto HERMODORUS.  
THe Resolution which I have pitched upon, is not of so small importance, as to be trusted unto that stranger which brought me your Letter: Therefore if you would know it, come hither yourself, for I will not write it,  
CLEONICE.  
I forgot to tell you, that whilst Cleonice was writing, I sent unto the Cousin of Ligdamis, advising him to follow the man who carried Cleonice's Answer, hoping that way to know where Hermodorus was: The man whom he did employ in the business, was not so diligent as he might have been, but lost the sight of him in a press of people at the gate of Ephesus; so that then we thought ourselves more miserable than before, because we were out of all hopes, since we believed Hermodorus would not come upon the Letter which Cleonice writ.  
The Kinsman of Ligdamis enquired very diligently where Hermodorus was, but could hear no certainty: It was therefore resolved, to set Spies about his house the next night to watch his coming out; and if it were possible to arrest him. In the mean time Cleonices Letter did much puzzle her obstinate Lover; who to compass his ends, did not care to commit all manner of violences. He could not interpret her Letter, as any way favourable unto himself, neither did he think she would ever consent unto the ruin of Ligdamis; yet not daring to come at her in the absence of Stenobea, because perhaps, as I said before, he knew the Cousin of Ligdamis was at my house, he resolved to stay until her return, and then to go and receive from Cleonice her ultimate resolution; and resolving, that if her answer was not according to his desire, then to put Ligdamis into the hands of Croesus: But in expectation of this, he kept home, and caused himself to be denied, if any enquired for him: Yet notwithstanding, since the Gods are more just then to permit innocents' to perish, and the culpable to go free, it happened, that Hermodorus thinking himself not sure enough of those whom he had set to guard Ligdamis, would go himself that night unto the house where he was kept; so that coming out of his house with two men only, when all the world almost was in bed, the Cousin of Ligdamis, and those who watched, espied him. But not desiring to assault him so near his own house, lest he should be rescued by his own servants, they followed him at a distance, till he was a good way off, before they would attempt it, and yet kept not so far from him, but they could fall on when they pleased. They were much amazed, when they saw him stay at the door of him where Ligdamis lay; so that to lose no longer time, they courageously assaulted him, but striving rather to take him then to kill him, they pulled him by the arm further from that door; yet he ruffled from amongst them, and drew his sword: The Cousin of Ligdamis and his party being the stronger, they could easily have killed him, if their desires to save him alive had not restrained them; and also had easily taken him, if Hermodorus had not called out aloud to the perfidious friend of Ligdamis for help; who hearing his name, came out with four of the guard belonging to Ligdamis, and the combat then proved more bloody and disputable. In the mean while, two of the guard stayed still with Ligdamis, who knowing their action to be unjust, and thinking by this noise, that they were in danger to be questioned, they thought best to secure themselves, by obliging Ligdamis, and releasing him: After they had held a little council between themselves, they made the offer of it unto Ligdamis, and confessed that it was Hermodorus who had unjustly obliged them to the action: And not to lose the merit of their kindness, they never told him that their Companions were gone to help Hermodorus; but on the contrary, they were gone out to part some strangers which were quarrelling, and that they two for their parts would take hold of this opportunity, and release him, and accordingly they carried him out of a back door: But since they could not possibly get out of Ephesus at that time of the night, they thought my house the safest retreat: So that knocking at my door, and desiring some to tell me, that there was a Phrygian which desired to speak with me, my servants did accordingly. You may easily imagine how I was amazed, when after the door was open, I saw Ligdamis enter with two of his guard: Since it was late before I returned from Cleonice, and also had many Letters to write, so it happened that I was s not gone to bed: which as it proved, was very happy; for if I had, perhaps Ligdamis had not been saved, because than my servants would not have opened the doors. As soon as ever I saw him, I asked him a hundred questions at once; for I could not for my heart devise which way he should be released. Gladly would I have eased Cleonice of an ill night's rest: but fearing it might chance discover what I so much desired to conceal, I thought it better to stay until the next morning before I acquainted her with this pleasing news.  
In the mean time, since it is never good trusting unto any such friends as had any hands in an ill act, I appointed a Chamber for the two Soldiers, and commanded my men not to go to bed, but to watch them: Yet first we made them tell us all that they knew concerning Hermodorus. For my part, I would not tell Ligdamis that his Cousin had followed Hermodorus all that night, or that I believed it was he who assaulted him; lest knowing his courage, he should offer to go out unto his relief. I was the more induced to conceal it from him, because I supposed the combat was ended: But when I acquainted him with the proposition which Hermodorus had made unto Cleonice, with the despair in which she was, and the answers which she returned; he expressed as much hatred to his Rival, and as much love to his Mistress, as was possible for two contrary violent Passions to invent. I had good mind he should have gone away that same night, but yet he would not: however let me tell you, it was absolutely impossible to persuade him unto any sleep, or to shut his eyes, though I forced him to go unto his Chamber which was made ready for him, whilst I went into my own.  
As soon as day appeared, I went unto Cleonice, whom I found ready to hearken unto me: For besides as she had not slept all that night, so the Cousin of Ligdamis had been with her to give an account of all passages between Hermodorus and himself: yet since he was ignorant what was become of Ligdamis, he supposed that his Guards had only changed his Prison, but never thought they had relesaed him. So that her sorrows were still the same, till I removed them, and told her that Ligdamis was safe. Her joys were then so excessive, that her thoughts were wholly upon him, and she never told me what was become of Hermodorus: But after I had asked her several times, she told me that the perfidious friend of Ligdamis, with three of his Guards, were killed; that Hermodorus was much wounded; that the Kinsman of Ligdamis had lost two of his men; and that in conclusion he being alone with his men in the streets, he went into this house to know what was become of Ligdamis, and that he found none in it but one woman, who told him that Ligdamis was gone from thence with two of his Guards. Cleonice further told me, that the Kinsman of Ligdamis was gone unto the house of one who was an Enemy unto Hermodorus, there to hide himself until such time as he knew what would become of his wounds. In the mean time we began to apprehend that Ligdamis was not safe in my house; so that we thought it expedient to advertise his Cousin, that he should take orders to go out of Ephesus that very night; which accordingly he was resolved upon, and executed. Cleonice would not afford her unhappy Lover so much comfort as to see her once before he went, lest it should be discovered; and thought her visit would make it suspected that he was in my house: For be pleased to know, Madam, that as rage and despair made Hermodorus almost mad, so he spread it about all the Town, that Ligdamis was in Ephesus, that he had seen Cleonice at my house, and that Hermodorus and he had fought; and a hundred more such reports. All which at the first did not much disquiet Cleonice, because all her cares were to hear that Ligdamis was safe: But when she understood that he and his Cousin were got out of the Town, with men to guard them, than these Reports began to trouble her; which indeed did make so great a noise, that the Governor of Ephesus caused a most strict search to be made. Since he was a very worthy man, and Prolixenide his wife did me the honour to esteem me very much, she did me the favour to send for me, and asked me very inquisitively what I knew. When I had received this summons, I went unto Cleonice, to consult together upon what I should say, before I went: For as on the one side, by not confessing that Love was the loadstone which drew Ligdamis hither, it would give cause of suspicion that he was a Delinquent to the State, and that he had some enterprise upon Ephesus; so on the other side, if it should be confessed that a violent love to Cleonice was the cause of his coming in a disguise, yet it was to be feared that it would not at all be credited: So that whether she should justify Ligdamis, or herself, was the difficult knot of the question, which she could hardly untie. As for the first of these two, she must needs speak the truth; and for the other, she was forced to the refuge of a lie, since certainly all appearances were against us, and that it was not probable Ligdamis should come to Ephesus in a disguise, without the consent of Cleonice.  
After a serious examination of the business, Love was most prevalent, and she consented rather to be suspected, then to give any grounds of accusation against Ligdamis. She than appointed me to speak the truth; and indeed, I told my tale so well, that Polixenida believed me, and undeceived her husband in the opinion which he had, that Ligdamis contrived something against the King's service; insomuch, as he promised Polixenida to write unto Croesus in favour of Ligdamis. However, all this could not prevent Artelinda, Phocylides, and all the Town, from a hundred various censures upon the accident: But as for Hermodorus, he had not any long vie amongst them, for he died of his wounds the seventh day: So that all his accusations died with him; and all his kindred being persons of honour, finding his actions so unworthy, would not prosecute the Cousin of Ligdamis as an Assassinate, nor revenge his death, because he deserved it. However, the reports of these things were so loud, that Cleonice could not endure to hear them: So that her Aunt having a very pleasant Seat near the River Hermes, and being ready to depart the Town, she desired Stenobea, that she might go with her; and made me promise to pass away the Autumn with her, since I could absolutely dispose of my own actions.  
Cleonice, who would not have left Ephesus, but because of various reports, would not give any cause to augment them; and therefore she beseeched her Aunt, not to pass over the River, at the Castle of Hermes, where Ligdamis and his Cousin were happily arrived; but to find out a passage further of, lest reports should rise, that she went to see Ligdamis: Yet she was in a place where he saw her sometimes; for though he never went out of the Castle, yet since Cleonice was in the Country, and so near his sister, he pretended sometimes to see her, sometimes in disguise, and sometimes with a more considerable guard.  
In the mean time, to keep my word with Cleonice, I went into the Country to her; but I did not as she did, for I passed the River at the Castle of Hermes, and called upon Ligdamis, whom I found still extremely amorous, but yet extremely melancholy, and he would not tell me the cause; entreating me only to solicit for him, and be his friend. When I came to Cleonice, I gave her an account of all the altterations in Ephesus, since her departure; how that Phocylides finding none in the Town to deceive, was gone to dwell at Sardis; and how Anaxippa not being able to endure the courses of her daughter, forced her to marry a man, who the next day after the wedding, carried her into the Country where she sees none, and is doing severe penance for her past gallantries. This news, which heretofore would have much recovered Cleonice, did now only move a smile, and that in such a constrained manner, that I knew her mind was not quiet. So that after I had addressed myself in all fitting civilities to her Aunt, I began to talk in private upon the first opportunity which offered itself; and carrying her into a walk near the house, What's the matter Cleonice? said I unto her; from whence proceeds this extraordinary melancholy? At the first, she told me, it was only an effect of solitude, and her being in the Country; but I knew her too well to be put off by such an excuse, and did press her a little further: What can it be, said I, that thus torments you? All those false reports which once troubled you, are quite dead; Ligdamis is a Lover, as he was, and loves you as much as ever he did. Ah Ismenea, said she, I am afraid that what you say last is not true. What reason have you, said I unto her, to think it is not? A hundred, replied she; so that I am certain you were deceived, when you told me one day, that Love could never become friendshig, since certainly the thoughts of Ligdamis towards me are no more. Really Cleonice, said I unto her, you are a most strange woman to speak thus; for is it possible, that you who heretofore apprehended the friendship of Ligdamis could never become Love, should now fear that his Love should become friendship? I do not fear it, replied she, but I believe it. And what ground have you for your belief? said I unto her: A thousand slight passages which I have observed, said she; and also upon a strange melancholy coldness, which Ligdamis of late hath used: But yet (said she, and dissembled) I do not murmur, or say any thing to him; but he must know, that though his father would change his resolution, and permit him to marry me, yet I should never consent: Not but that (said she, and blushed) I should be glad that Ligdamis should love me; but to be engaged to live with a man all my life, who changes so often, is a thing which I can never do: For I have cause to fear, that since he has passed from indifferency unto friendship, and from friendship unto love, and from love unto friendship again, he will repass at last from friendship unto indifferency, where first I found him, and last of all, from indifferency to hatred and scorn▪ Cleonice spoke all this so hastily, as made me laugh; and so much the more because I knew she wronged him. But, said I unto her (and looked earnestly upon her) will you be pleased to acquaint me with some of Ligdamis his crimes? His Lukewarmness, replied she, is a crime, which though none but myself can be sensible of it, yet it is such a one, and so great, that I cannot pardon it. I cannot think, said I, that Ligdamis can be so to you. As we were thus in talk of him, news was brought us that he was coming, which she no sooner heard of, but she began to entreat me, that I would not tell him what she said, or chide him: Yet since I thought she spoke against her mind, I told him all what she had said; at which he much wondered. He perceived that she was a little more serious than ordinary; but since she told him that it was caused by some news which she received from Ephesus, that did not please her, he took no great notice of it, knowing he never had given her any cause to complain against him. I do not know (said he unto me, after I had made a relation of what she had said concerning his change) whether she call my melancholy lukewarmness; but I am most certain, I never in my life did love her with more zeal and violence then now.  
As we were thus talking in that Alley where Cleonice and I used to walk, we saw her walking alone in another; and going towards her, when he came near, Unjust Lady, said he unto her, can you accuse me for loving you only in the degree of friendship? On the contrary, said she, I do commend you for it, and therefore I spoke unto Ismenea of it. But yet Madam, I beseech you what have I said, what have I done or thought, which could possibly move you to think so? You are grown so strangely melancholy, replied she, that I cannot choose but imagine, that though once you loved me, yet now you do not. I perceive then, said he, that my melancholy is my crime: But, Madam, since I must discover the cause of it, which hitherto I have concealed, because I would not make you sharer in my sorrows; Be pleased to know, that perhaps we shall be separated for a long time, for the state of things considered, there is great appearance that all Lydia will be turned into desolation, and our Monarch ruined. I know very well, Madam, that your soul is heroic, and so interested in the public good, that the love of your Country imprints itself deep in your heart; therefore I am not afraid to tell you, that we are in expectation to see all Lydia in arms, and conquered by a strange Prince: For, Madam, my father and I both, have received certain intelligence from the Court, that Croesus will declare war against that invincible Conqueror, unto whom half of Asia is already subject, and against whom there is no resistance: And all this in a time when the illustrious Cleander, who only is able to manage such a war, is a Prisoner: For my part, I know not what policy there is in it; but I know well, that the way to vanquish, is to have a General that knows both how to fight and command; and yet Croesus will not hear talk of the liberty of Cleander, but still keeps under hatches the only man that can oppose so Puissant a Prince: And I pray unto the Gods, that the injustice of Croesus do not draw the wrath of heaven against all the Monarchy: I know he hath sent to consult with several Oracles concerning it, and he waits only for their answer before they fight. There runs an odd rumour also, that he will give retreat unto the King of Pontus, who carried away the Princess of Medea: So that Cyrus being animated both by his interest of Love, and by his desires of new glory, he will in all likelihood pull down the Grandeur of Croesus, especially if he do not release the illustrious Cleander.  
Now, Madam, you know the true cause of my melancholy, which you are pleased to call lukewarmness, and want of love: But to make trial of my Passion, and not to trust unto my words, I beseech you command me the most difficult things, and if you do not find a most exact obedience, then tax me with want of Love to you, and hatred to myself. Ligdamis expressed himself in these words in a manner so far from that lukewarmness wherewith Cleonice charged him, that I forced her to ask him pardon, before she had time to speak; and indeed, after a while of resistance, he made so many excuses, and seemed so ashamed of her injurious charge, that she would let him speak no more by way of excusing himself.  
After this, we shared in the melancholy of Ligdamis, and found that he had great cause of fears: And since this, Madam, these two Lovers never quarrelled, though they were not without their sorrows; for Ligdamis fell sick within a few days after, and so dangerously, that it was thought he could not escape death. Yet at the last he recovered a little, though the Physicians did all conclude it would be long before he was perfectly recovered: And indeed he found it true, for he continued very ill until Cleander was released. Cleonice also had such a violent Fever, that she could not return to Ephesus when the Forces of Cyrus were entering into Lydia. For my part, I was resolved not to leave her, until we found out some conveniency for us both to return to Ephesus together: But since the house of Ligdamis his sister was the strongest in all that part of the Country, we stayed there till the war was begun. Then the Liberty of Cleander being known, and also that he was the Prince Artamas son unto the King of Phrygia; this news wrought such a perfect cure upon Ligdamis, and his upon Cleonice, that it was resolved amongst us to get into Ephesus before the war grew hotter: And Ligdamis being to guard us with two hundred Horse, we began our journey, intending to pass over the River at the Castle of Hermes. But it was the pleasure of the Fates, that we should meet with the Troops of Cyrus, and become his Prisoners; yet happy in such a powerful Protection as yours, Madam, and such a generous Conqueror as CYRUS.  
Ismenea, after she had ended her relation, left Panthea in much satisfaction of mind; and that Queen most obligingly telling her, that she was as worthy to be Cleonices Friend, as Ligdamis her Lover. After this, Panthea calling for Araspes, whilst Ismenea went to seek Cleonice, she gave him orders to tell Cyrus, that Ligdamis was no less in love with Cleonice, than he was with Mandana: So that if it would conduce to end the war without fight, Cyrus may make Peace through all Asia: In the mean while, entreat him from me to look upon Ligdamis and Cleonice as two whose interests are very dear unto me. Araspes, after his usual reverence, told her he would not fail in his obedience. Afterwards he took horse immediately, and went to give Cyrus an account of that business which Chrisantes had imposed upon him: And coming to the Camp, he went strait to the Tent of Cyrus; who no sooner saw him, but imagining he had executed his Commands, be ●alked with him in private: Come, insensible Araspes, (said he to him and smiled) what news do you bring me concerning Ligdamis? Sir, (said he and blushed) he whom you speak of is most certainly in Love with Cleonice, as the Queen of Susiana assures me. Cyrus was very glad to hear it, hoping thereby the better to advance the design of the Prince Artamas: So that sending Araspes back with orders to thank Panthea most civilly, he sent for Ligdamis, who was with Feraulas in Timocreon's Tent. Ligdamis was no sooner come, but Cyrus taking him aside, conjured him to let him know one thing from his own mouth, though he knew it perhaps another way. Sir, answered he, if it be within the compass of my knowledge, you shall most infallibly know it also. I do conjure you then (said the most invincible Prince of Persia) to tell me whether you be not more a Captive to the fair Cleonice, than you are unto Cyrus? Sir, replied Ligdamis, (a little surprised at this question) since my Captivity is most glorious unto me, I will never deny it unto you, but that the fetters of the fair Cleonice do load me more than yours: But Sir, I beseech you (if I may be permitted to ask) why do you desire to know it? Because I would know, replied Cyrus, whether your Passion has not taught you to pity others in the same case. Sir, answered Ligdamis, (still more puzzled to guess at the intention of Cyrus) Those who are in my case may perhaps pity, but their compassion will be but very unserviceable unto any in the like condition. Not so, said Cyrus, for you may do the Prince Artamas the most eminent service that ever was done. How, Sir! replied he; I beseech you tell me presently what it is. You know, said Cyrus unto him, that he is in Love with the Princess of Lydia: you are not ignorant of her imprisonment; and doubtless you know also, that she is to be brought from the Temple of Diana unto the Citadel in Sardis. I do know all these, replied Ligdamis; but I confess I do not know which way I can be serviceable unto that Prince, who hath many ways obliged me to do all I can. And you may do it, answered Cyrus, by helping him to release that Princess whom he loves. If I can do it, said Ligdamis, without betraying the King my Master, or commiting any unworthy acts, certainly I will do it with abundance of joy. Since I have told you that you can, replied Cyrus, you may assure yourself I will never move you to any unworthy acts. After this, Cyrus told him that the Prince Artamas was gone to the Castle of Hermes, to persuade his Father that they may pass the River, to deliver the Princess of Lydia, as they conduct her unto Sardis.  
Ligdamis at first seemed much surprised at this discourse: But Cyrus speaking again, Do not think (said he) generous Ligdamis, that we desire a Pass for all our Army, or with any intentions to surprise Croesus, or to vanquish him, or to subvert his Empire: No, Ligdamis, we would only release our Prisoner-Princesses, and obtain permission to pass only with so many men as will be able to deal with the Convoy which guards them: Thus you shall not contribute any thing to the ruin of your Country, but rather prevent it; since I do engage my word, (if by your means we can recover the Princess Mandana and the Princess of Lydia out of their power who persecute them) to move Ciaxares to offer such Conditions of Peace so advantageous to Croesus, that he shall not refuse them: But on the contrary, if you do not permit us this desire, all Lydia shall be destroyed. Moreover, it is not to spare our blood in forcing a passage over the River, that we have recourse to your assistance; but because if we be put to force, it will be with our whole Army, and then Croesus cannot bring them unto Sardis, but they will remain at Ephesus where the Sea is open to carry them away, and so we shall not perhaps recover them but by many battles and sieges. Therefore generous Ligdamis, if it be true that the fair Cleonice hath sensibly moved your heart, and made you capable to consider the cases of other Lovers, be a friend unto Prince Artamas who suffers all the miseries of a Lover. I will not say the fair Cleonice is in my power; for though you deny my request, yet I here declare, for the Prince of Phrygia's sake, that she shall not be any thing less favourably used.  
Oh Sir, replied Ligdamis, it is enough, and my silence is a crime. Yes Sir, I am to blame to let you speak so long; and questionless I ought to believe all your propositions just, without any further examination. I resolve, Sir, to contribute all my power unto the releasement of the Princess Mandana, and the Princess Palmis: And therefore give me leave to tell you, that I believe the Prince Artamas will not do any good upon my Father: So that if you dare trust me upon my word, it were expedient I went presently to acquaint him, that my Sister which is here with Cleonice is your prisoner as well as myself; and I doubt not but this consideration will much further your desires. But Sir, I beseech you, I beseech you remember your promise to procure the peace of my Country, if I re●der you the Princess Mandana. I do so solemnly promise it, replied Cyrus, that you ne●● not apprehend the least fear; since it is my custom to keep my word unto my most mortal enemies, though it would cost me a hundred Crowns. I think, Sir, said Ligdamis unto him, that since I leave a Mistress and a Sister with you, you need not fear my return. If I durst not trust you, answered Cyrus, I should not speak unto you as I have done. After this, Ligdamis desired that some men might go with him, lest he should be surprised in his quarters as he passed, and also to the end there might be some witnesses of his transaction with his Father, in case the Prince Artamas had been denied, and should be gone from the Castle of Hermes before he came. Cyrus' having already a very high esteem of Ligdamis, would not have let any to have gone this journey with him, but only men to wait upon him, had it not been for this last reason: but the first being more strong, he appointed Feraulas to go with him. So that without any more delay they prepared themselves for the Castle of Hermes: Ligdamis first writing a Letter to his dear Cleonice, lest she should be troubled at his departure. Cyrus' having a desire (according to his promise) to let the King of Assyria know what Ligdamis went about; and since he could not but approve of any thing that might conduce to the Princess Mandana's release, Ligdamis received a hundred kind expressions from him as well as from Cyrus; and engaged his word to free his Country, if Ligdamis freed Mandana.  
However, though there was some probability that this way might prevent a long war, yet Cyrus was as circumspect and diligent as if it were to last a long time. He enquired of the Prisoners concerning the Passes over the River, the fit places to encamp in, the most advantageous Forts, concerning the fortification of all their Works, and a hundred other things: And as knowing as he was in the art of war and conquering, yet he never thought he knew enough; so that without any manner of pride he would discourse with the old Captains of his Army, and would not despise the advice of the meanest Soldier; though to speak truth, he rather instructed them of whom he asked any advice, than was instructed by them. His Military cares robbed him not of one thought of those Civilities which he intended to the Captive Princesses, and to so many Kings and Princes as were in his Army. Yet maugre all those several cares and variety of business, Mandana was the absolute Mistress of his heart, and the object of all his desires: He did every hour flatter himself with hope of seeing her ere long at liberty, and also as oft fear the contrary: So that passing continually from hopes to fears, and fears to hopes, his soul was in continual agitation. The Picture of Mandana, and the Scarf which dying Mazares left, was all his consolation; he preserved them with such extraordinary care, as it might easily be seen, how dear she was to him unto whom they related.  
The sight of the King of Assiria, procured him some vexatious hours, and he had much ado to hide his real resentments, and to live in handsome civility with him, until Mandana's releasement, when then he should either vanquish, or be vanquished by him. Yet had he the consolation to think he had thrown him out of his Throne, and to know that Mandana loved him not, and that he himself was more happy in her affection than he: but on the contrary, that the King of Assiria could not in reason have one single thought which could afford him any comfort, unless out of theOracle which he received at Babylon; for he saw his Rival arrived to the highest top of glory, and that he was as high in the esteem of his Princess, and no way unfortunate, but in being separated from her, and her being a Captive: But as for himself, he saw he was without a Crown, or any hopes either to reign in Assiria, or in the heart of Mandana, at the least in all probability. Yet he flattered himself still in hopes of this Oracle; and sweetened all his sorrows, and dissipated all his fears, by believing that he should one day by some way which he understood not, be as happy, as he was at present unfortunate. Also, he was never without this Oracle about him, and had it writ in a little Table-book of Cedar, though he had it also perfectly in his memory.  
Thus did these two great Princes and illustrious Lovers, reason with themselves during the voyage of Artamas, who found much more difficulty in persuading the Governor o● Hermes then he imagined, for he did not think Ligdamis would not be there; yet was he received very civilly, as he by whose favour the Governor had his Government: But since the negotiation was for a passage of foreign Forces, the Governor could not hearken unto it; though the Prince Artamas told him, it was only to release the Princess Mandana, who was the principal cause of the war, and to deliver the daughter of his King, who was most unjustly persecuted. It is very true, his mind was much troubled to hear no news of his son, who he said was gone to convoy his sister and some other Ladies, and that he could not give him any direct answer, until he knew what was become of him; But when he heard by the return of some Soldiers an hour after, that Ligdamis was a Prisoner, and his sister a captive, he exceedingly grieved at it. The Prince Artamas also knowing it, did give him some comfort; for he assured him that Cyrus would treat him very well, which did something lessen his sorrow: He offered to send Sosicles for better intelligence; and did so, conceiving the Governor would conclude nothing with him, till he heard more certainly concerning his Son: But as good luck was, Sosicles meeting with Ligdamis and Feraulas in the way, that journey was shortened, and they all returned to the Castle of Hermes, where they were received with much joy; and it was hard to say, which had more fatisfaction to see Ligdamis, his father, or the Prince Artamas.  
After this, the transaction met with no great difficulties; for assoon as Ligdamis related unto his father how Cyrus treated him; and how his sister and all the Ladies were used, his heart did change, especially when Ligdamis told him that Cyrus desired a pass for no more men than were requisite to release the captive Princesses, and that he solemnly promised upon his word to procure the peace of Lydia, if by his means they were released. After this, the Governor having no power to oppose Prince Artamas, Ligdamis, and the welfare of his Country, he consented unto their desires; so that the Phrygian Prince returned back fully satisfied: He moved Ligdamis to stay with his father, purposely to keep him in the same mind; but Ligdamis would not upon any terms, saying that he were unworthy of those civilities which he had received, if he did not return. Artamas was still urgent with him; but the generosity of Ligdamis being fortified with a prevalent consideration of Love, was fully resolved to return: And therefore they all returned to Cyrus, who welcomed them with abundance of joy, especially after he understood the happy success of their negotiation. Artamas gave Cyrus many thanks for his favours unto Ligdamis, and Ligdamis beginning a fresh to applaud him, he forced the modesty of Cyrus to impose silence; and to do it with a better grace, he hindered them from speaking of himself, by professing his own obligations unto them, for contriving things so as that he had hopes to release Mandana. Artamas, who had no less interest in the business than he had, could not endure he should thank him for any thing he had done▪ And Ligdamis, who was exceedingly obliged unto both those Princes, was much ashamed of those thanks they gave him.  
During this contestation of Civility, the King of Assiria hearing of their Return, came unto Cyrus, who was sending for him, to acquaint him with the result of their negotiation: So that being a partaker of his Rival's joy, and hoping to see Mandana released, he rendered a thousand expressions of gratitude unto the transactors of the enterprise; all of them being infinitely impatient to receive some intelligence from the friends of Meneceus, concerning the departure of the Princesses, and the Convoys which were to guard them. Artamas, who was not less Amorous than any, was not less joyed in his hopes to release the Princess Mandana, without fight against the King her father. Ligdamis for his part, hoping more in the enjoyment of his dear Cleonice, if the wars were composed, then if they continued, was a most sensible partaker in the joys of all these Princes.  
In the mean time, the Prince Artamas desiring permission to go and acquaint the King his father with his transactions; and the King of Assiria desiring to contemplate upon his joys in private, both of them went away; and since Ligdamis and Sosicles did follow the Prince of Phrygia, Feraulas only remained with Cyrus. Indeed he was the most agreeble companion he could have, since it was to him only that Cyrus had communicated the secret of his Passion: For though Chrisantes in all other matters was highly in his favour, yet it was to Feraulas he opened the Closet of his soul, as one that was of a more suitable age and humour to excuse all his imperfections. Agladitus also coming in, did not disturb or alter the conversation; for he had all the qualities which Cyrus could wish for in a confident of his Love: His mind was clear, his soul was tender, and he was acquainted with this Passion, out of his own experience. So that Cyrus employed two hours with him and Feraulas very pleasingly in talking concerning the state of things: This Conversation had lasted longer, if the King of Phrygia had not interrupted it, by a visit which he paid unto Cyrus to testify his joy that his son's negotiation had took so good effect. The rest of this day was thus spent; and the next morning Cyrus resolved with the King of Assiria, and the Prince Artamas, upon those Troops which they would make choice of for this secret expedition, when time required. After which Cyrus, who was the most obliging Prince upon earth, calling for Ligdamis, who had contented himself with writing unto Cleonice, and durst not so soon ask leave to see her, he told him in a low voice and smiled, that he was his Prisoner no longer;: So that, said he unto him, if you be the Captive of Cleonice, go and visit her. Ligdamis answered, that since both his Captivities were glorious, he desired to go out of his fetters, no more than out of the fair Cleonices; yet since he gave him leave, he would go and visit her, and did so. The day following, Cyrus accompanied with the Prince Phraartes (who never failed upon such an occasion) went to visit the Queen of Susiana, and the Princess Araminta: He found the first of these two something less sad, by reason of the hopes which Araspes had infused into her, but he found the Princess Araminta full of melancholy, and could not guests the cause, unless the continuation of her misfortunes, which she endurcd with abundance of constancy. Cyrus did all he could to comfort her; but since she heard no news of Spitridates, she was not capable of any joy. The sight of Cyrus, as pleasing as it might have been unto her, by reason of that prodigious resemblance which was between him and Spitridates, did rather augment then lessen her languishing humour: For when she imagined that this Prince who was so admirably handsome, so complete, and so generous, was either dead or a Prisoner, or perfidious, she had much ado to exclude such angry thoughts, for fear she should discover her weakness: However, she had rather the presence of Cyrus should revive those sad thoughts, then see the Prince Phraartes with her, whose very sight raised a thousand distempers on her fancy, to think that her eyes should allure him, and chase Spitridates from her; so that the love of this Prince was intolerable to her.  
After Cyrus had continued his visit a long while with Araminta, he took his leave of her; and to oblige Ligdamis, he went unto the chamber of his Ephesian Prisoners, unto whom he showed a hundred civilities, especially to the sister and Mistress of Ligdamis. In his going from thence, he called for Araspes, whom he had observed to be very sad: And since he conceived the cause might proceed from a dislike unto that employment; and since he loved him very well, he asked, whether he did not think himself a Prisoner, in keeping of Prisoners; if he were weary of it, he would put some other in his place. Araspes was so sursprised at this Question, that in lieu of returning thanks, he earnestly asked him, whether the Queen of Susiana or the Princess Araminta, had made any complaints of him, or whether he had any way displeased them or him? And Cyrus answering, no, but rather on the contrary they commened him; he beseeched him to let him continue in his office, and thanked him for his goodness towards him. Yet it was after such a manner, as made Cyrus believe that Araspes was troubled at something which he had no disposition to tell: So that without any further reflection upon it, he took horse and returned to the Camp.  
In going thither, he espied two men on horseback in the way coming towards him; and since the road faster than he did, they quickly met. But one of these strangers no sooner cast his eyes upon Cyrus, and observing the honour which was done him, but he asked one of the followers who it was? And being answered, it was Cyrus, he stopped and alighted from his horse, and presented himself unto Cyrus, making no question but to be known unto him. Then addressing his speech unto him, Sir (said he) I beseech you give me leave to ask pardon for not rendering you that honour which I ought, upon that occasion wherein I did you all the service I could. Cyrus' looking upon this stranger, whom he saw to be a handsome proper man, did seriously examine his memory whether ever he had seen his face: but the physiognomy of this young Cavalier was so new in his eyes, that he concluded him to be certainly mistaken: So that answering very civilly, he told him that he could not remember he ever saw him, and by consequence he thought him to be mistaken, since he did not use to forget such men as have any characters of Nobleness ●n their faces, as he had. Afterwards causing him to take horse again, and desiring him to tell him when and where he saw him? This handsome stranger told him in the same language which he had newly learned, and which was in a kind of corrupted Greek, that he had the honour to meet him in a Wood in Paphlagonia, when he had but one Page with him, and when he was assaulted by six men, from the violence of whom he endeavoured to defend him.  
I do not know, said Cyrus unto him, whether I should let you go on in your error, lest I should be suspected not to acknowledge a benefit: Yet notwithstanding to undeceive you, and to prevent my being accused of ingratitude, know (Generous Stranger) that I engage myself to recompense the service which you did unto that man for whom you take me: But know withal, that there is a Prince in the world who does so much resemble me, that at divers times and places we have been taken one for another: Therefore since I do not doubt but that it was he whom you relieved, and since I am much interested in his life and fortune, I pray tell me what you know concerning him, and in what place and condition you left him.  
Whilst Cyrus was spenking thus, the Stranger looking seriously upon him, did indeed find some little difference in the air of his Countenance between him and the other whose life he had saved. So that not questioning the truth of what Cyrus said, whose honour was too well known to be suspected of a lie; Sir, said he unto him, I beg your pardon for crediting my eyes before my reason, which secretly tells me, that he who hath conquered the greater part of all Asia, can possibly fall into such a condition as to owe his life to such an unfortunate stranger as I am. The Man whose life you have preserved, replied he, is so noble, that I conceive you more honoured by it, then if I owed you mine: For to speak sincerely ●n you, whatsoever I have above him, is rather the gift of fortune, than any effect of my valour. However I pray you satisfy my curiosity, and tell me very punctually what you know concerning him. But first, to make your relation more pleasing, I pray let me know the name and quality of his Preserver, to the end I may render him his due respect. Sir, said this Stranger, my Name is Anaxaris: but as for my Quality, I beseech you move me not to tell it; it were easy, if I would dissemble, by telling an advantageous lie, to conceal it that way: But since I desire no esteem from you but what my actions and services shall speak me worthy of, I will not either under or overvalue myself, by saying my Quality is either too low or too high. Therefore without any more discourse concerning it, give me leave to tell you, that the Reports of your illustrious Name drawing me out of my own Country to come and be myself a witness of so many Miracles which fame does trumpet of you: And passing one evening through a Wood in Paphlagonia, I saw a man sitting under a Tree, who was speaking unto another that was not above two paces from him, and who seemed to look unto two horses which were tied unto the trunk of a Pinetree, lest they should break loose. As the air and garb of him who seemed to be the Master of the other seemed to have much grandeur in them, so I thought myself obliged to help him, as afterwards I did. I looked upon him very seriously, and methought he was very sad; giving me such a civil salute as I passed by, that I looked back at him three or four times: And at last I perceived six men come out of several quarters of the Wood, who falling upon him all at once, hardly gave him time to rise, or put his hand unto his sword; which yet he did so readily and courageously, that you need not wonder (Sir) if when they told me that you was Cyrus, I thought that you were he whom I had the happiness to serve; for I never in all my life saw so much courage in any man, as in that illustrious stranger. I no sooner saw him assaulted upon such disadvantages, but I went to him, and cried I would die in his defence; and did such things as I believe I should never have done, if his example had not showed me the way. So it was, Sir, that after a long combat we disengaged ourselves from these Assassinates; for four of them lay dead upon the place, and two ran away. This valiant stranger whom I did assist, was wounded in two places, whilst he was getting upon his horse: So that seeing him to stand in need of help, I asked him into what place he would be conducted. He was as civil as valiant; and thanked me for my assistance in such terms, as easily made me understand the excellency of his soul. He would have dispensed with me from the offer which I rendered, telling me that the Life which I had so much care of, was not so happy, as to take so much pains in preserving it. Yet for all that I would not leave him, but conducted him to the next house which was not above four or five furlongs off: As good luck was, there was a Town not far from thence, where a Chirurgeon dwelled; and he knowing of him, sent his Page for him. I stayed with him till his wounds were dressed, and would have stayed longer, if he would have suffered me: So that seeing the people of the house very careful of him, I sooner resolved to obey him. He desired to know my name; and I told him, as I have done you, that it was Anaxaris. But since it was then very late, I was forced to stay there in that place all that night, and lodged in a chamber next his. The Chirurgeon told me his wounds were not mortal; but he found so deep a Melancholy in his face, that he feared a Fever; which added to his wounds, would make them more hard to heal. As I did lie in a Chamber which joined unto his, and the partition was only of unjoined Planks, I heard him pass away that night without any sleep: He spoke sometimes very loud, and though I could not distinctly hear what he said, yet I could often hear him pronounce the name of Araminta: I understood that he made many pitiful complaints against some Beauty of that name; for he would often cry out, Araminta! perfidious Araminta! why cannot I forget thee? These complaints begetting in me a fresh curiosity to know whom I had served, I asked his Page, before I parted: But he told me that he had such strict charge from his Master to conceal it, as I would press him no further. And so I left him, without any further knowledge what he was, than what I have told you: Yet I brought away with me so great esteem of this valiant man, that thinking I had found him when I met you, Sir, I was in an ecstasy of joy. But Sir, I am well satisfied with my mistake; for I had rather have the honour to be known unto you, then have enjoyed my satisfaction in meeting with him I took you for.  
The Prince Spitridates, replied Cyrus, is one of so high a merit, that I am not displeased if you prefer him before me, since in so doing you do but what is reason. In the mean time, Generous Anaxaris, I do profess myself obliged unto you for preserving the life of Spitridates as much, as if you had preserved mine: And therefore I do acknowledge in the presence of all that hear me, you may justly accuse me of ingratitude, if I do not render you all the good offices which can be expected from a Prince who is obliged unto it. Anaxaris answered these civil expressions in extreme humility, yet far from any baseness: But on the contrary, as humble as he was, yet it appeared by his answers that he was more accustomed to confer favours then receive any. So that Cyrus conceiving a great opinion of him, resolved to have an especial care of him; and in order to that, gave orders to place him in one of his own Tents, and that he should be treated as a man of high quality, as he seemed to be. But as Cyrus was well pleased with Anaxaris, so Phraartes was not: For since he was persuaded that if Spitridates had been dead, he should have been more in favour with Araminta, so he had a secret malignancy against Anaxaris, as soon as he knew he had saved the life of his Rival. Cyrus as soon as he came to the Camp, desired to acquaint the Princess Araminta with some part of what he heard concerning Spitridates, and to dissemble the other part, making him less wounded than he was; but since the relation was before so many, he thought it hard to be done.  
Yet thinking it would be more consolation unto her to hear he was wounded, then to believe he was unfaithful or dead, as sometimes she did, he sent Feraulas to acquaint her, that a stranger came to the Camp, who about a month since met with Spitridates; for Anaxaris said it was about that time he relieved that Prince: Feraulas, according to his Master's commands went presently unto Araminta, who at the first was extremely joyed to hear Spitridates was alive: But not contenting herself with what Feraulas told her; and desiring to see the man who had seen him, because she perceived he did not positively consent she should, therefore she imagined much more concerning Spitridates then it was: So that Feraulas promised to entreat Cyrus from her, to let her see him who brought the news. Then returning to the Camp, he performed his promise, and Cyrus desired Anaxaris the next morning to visit the Princess Araminta, of whom the Prince Spitridates did so unjustly complain; withal conjuring him to say his wounds are not so dangerous as they were: But this warning was in vain; for Phraartes had let her know by an Armenian woman (whom he had got to wait upon her when she was at Artaxates, and was all for him) that Spitridates was left for dead, and never like to recover, so that Araminta would not believe Anaxaris, when he told her the real truth. Cyrus' hearing of her despair, went himself to comfort her, and assured her that Anaxaris told him no more concerning Spitridates, than he had told her: But to testify how much he valued the satisfaction of her mind; after good notice taken of the place where Aanaxaris left Spitridates, he sent for the Prince of Paphlagonia, and desired him that he would send one of his men, to know exactly what was become of that illustrious Prince. Araminta rendered thanks unto Cyrus with as much civility as her sorrows would give her leave. The Queen of Susiana had also an extraordinary care of her. Cleonice and all her friends never left her; and except Phraartes, all the world did participate of her sorrows. Until this accident unto Spitridates, she was as civil unto him, as afterwards she was unto Anaxaris, when she knew he was his preserver: But she began to treat him much worse than usual, imagining that it was by reason of him that Spitridates had named her Perfidious.  
Thus the malignant joy which Phraartes had at the misfortune of his Rival, lasted not long; but he endured all the torments that Love and Jealousy could inflict upon him. In the mean while, Cyrus, the King of Assiria, and Prince Artamas began to be exceedingly impatient that they received no intelligence from the friends of Meneceus, nor from those of Timocreon at Ephesus and Sardis; but afterwards their expectations were answered, and those they expected being returned, they understood that the setting forth of the Princesses was deferred for eight days, precisely nominating the day and hour they were to set out; naming also the Troops which were to guard them, and describing every circumstance with such particularities, that if these Princes did but justly observe their true measures, their enterprise must needs take effect; yet there was some dispute did arise amongst them, concerning the execution of the business: For the Prince Artamas, who was very well acquainted with the Country, was of opinion to divide their Troops, and place of one part of them in a wood by which the Princesses were to pass, and to hide the rest behind a hill which was full of Trees, and which was upon the left hand of the plain, which the highway between Ephesus and Sardis doth cross; to the end, that when the Coaches are just between the wood and the hill; and almost over against the Castle of Hermes, where also some men should be left, they might compass about the King of Pontus, by cutting off his passages on all sides, and might get the Princesses over the River, almost before theier enemies knew where they were. Cyrus' understanding the situation of the place better than the King of Assiria, did concur with the opinion of Artamas; but the King of Assiria was of a contrary opinion, and thought that the dividing of their Troops was the way to be vanquished one after the other; and therefore more expedient to keep in one body, and give a sudden and violent assault, then to have any recourse unto stratagems. The Prince Artamas held constant to his opinion, and Cyrus confirmed it with many reasons; but this violent Prince still obstinately opposing them, there was a very strong contest among them. Ligdamis was called to the Counsel, as one that knew the Country best, and as one that was well known in military affairs; but as the happiness or misery of three great Princes did depend upon this business, he was somewhat nice in giving his opinion; so that not delivering himself absolutely, though he inclined to the opinion of Cyrus and Artamas, the King of Assiria grew more opinionative and hot then before; so that it was resolved to send Chrisantes beyond the River, to take notice of the advantages and disadvantages of the places which they were to possess, and when he had well observed them to give his advice upon the matter.  
But this course was no sooner resolved upon, than the King of Assiria said he would trust no eyes but his own, in a business whereupon the Liberty of Mandana depended; and therefore he would go himself with Chrisantes and Ligdamis, to see whether they were in the right or wrong. The King of Assiria had no sooner said so, but the great soul of Cyrus not being able to endure that his Rival should ever lay it in his dish, that he exposed himself the most for the liberty of Mandana, did contest no more, though he knew it was against the rules of Prudence, and to no purpose, yet he told the King of Assiria that he would go also; the Prince Artamas also would needs be one of the party, and let them see how he thought of the business. Their departure was resolved upon to be that very same night, in common arms; and that they should carry only two hundred horse with them, to leave them near the Castle of Hermes, and pass over only with fifty to view the place which Artamas maintained to be the most convenient for placing of men.  
This course being resolved upon, Cyrus sent for the King of Phrygia, and committed the care of all things unto him, telling all the rest of his Captains, that he was gone only to visit several quarters of the Army: Yet the matter could not be so closely carried, but some suspected some other design, which they would not publish; so that Tygarnes and Phraartes keeping continually about Cyrus, and not leaving him, he was constrained to impart the business unto them, telling them, that if his design had been to fight, he would not have gone without them; but their business being only to view a place to fight on, he would spare them the pains of a journey wherein no honour was to be got: Yet notwithstanding, they were so importunate with him, that he consented. Aglatidas, Chrisantes, Adusius, Feraulas, Ligdamis, Cosicles, Tegeus and Artabases went also; the stranger Anaxaris hearing of an expedition, asked leave to follow, and he could not refuse him. Assoon as night was come, they set out; and made choice of that time, to the end the Spies which Croesus had in the Army, could not give any intelligence which way Cyrus went. Ligdamis and Sosicles only went first to prepare his father to give a passage over the River for fifty men; and all the Princes did so order their march, that they arrived within four furlongs of the Castle of Hermes two hours before daybreak the next morning, where they made a halt according to the agreement with Ligdamis, who came unto them within a quarter of an hour after, and told Cyrus that all was in readiness to receive him: But since there was a necessity of day light for that business, they thought best to rest in the Castle till night was gone. Cyrus, and all the Princes which accompanied him, went then into the Castle of Hermes, where they were received without any ceremony, lest the business should be known unto the soldiers, who were made believe that they were the men of Croesus' disguised, who came to view one of the quarters of Cyrus, and would pass over the River in that place; not but that the Soldiers were very affectionate unto that Governor, but because they would not run any hazard: So that Cyrus stayed a long while in the Castle of Hermes, as one that was a Captain unto Croesus.  
As soon as the sun was up, Cyrus took horse, followed by the King of Assiria, Prince Artamas, Tygranes, Phraartes, Aglatidas, Anaxaris, Feraulas, Artabases, Ligdamis, Chrisantes, Adusius, Sosicles, Tegeus, and fifty Caviliers for that guard, who went to se● the place where ere long they hoped to release Mandana. The Prince Artamis, to let the King of Assiria see he was in the right, marched between Cyrus and him, and as soon as they were over the bridge, showed them with his hand the hill that was full of trees, on the side of the highway; the wood which was on the right hand, and the way from Ephesus, which went on their right hand; showing them so clearly, that what he had proposed was most expedient, that if the King of Assiria did not approve of it, than it was more out of obstinacy than reason.  
Chrisantes, who was a man expert in such things, said, to second the opinion of Artamas, That the enterprise could not be executed any other way; because if the first Troops which convoyed the Princesses should spy such a considerable body of men together, as theirs should be if they were all joined, than they would acquaint the King of Pontus with it in an instant, by passing the word from Rank to Rank, until it reached him; and then, since his design is not to gain a victory, but only to preserve the Princesses whom he loves, he will cause them to turn back, whilst he himself is facing us with all his Troops. So that unless an Ambuscado be placed in such a manner as the Prince Artamas proposed, there was little hopes of any good success in the enterprise. Yet notwithstanding, the King of Assyria would not agree, but said, that those which came from Ephesus might easily discover the Soldiers which were behind the hill: And though it was observed unto him, that the way from that side was all low ground, and the hill before them making a demi-round, it was impossible to discover any men behind it; yet needs would he go thither, and all the rest followed him. After Artamas showed him his error, and had viewed the Hill, they went also into the Wood, and wandered far in it to know all the passes and advenues; Chrisantes telling them, that they must consider as well what to do in case they were vanquished, as if they did vanquish; and they had not stayed so long in this Wood, had it not been for this reason. But the Prince Artamas propounding it requisite, that the Father of Ligdamis was to provide a Boat to stand in that place where the Wood reached to the River, to the end that in case the Enemies should become masters of the Bridge, yet they might that way convey over the Princesses: This proposition seeming good, they went to seek out for a Boat which was a great distance from thence, because the River in that place was serpentine, and turned and wound very much. Then said the King of Assyria, There is a necessity of having Boats. To which Ligdamis replied, that since Croesus resolved upon a war, there was none left upon the River, except one which the Governor kept.  
But whilst they were thus reasoning upon an enterprise, which would ere long be enterprised, and Cyrus was entertaining himself with the pleasing thought of being ere long Mandana's Deliverer; the Governor of the Castle at Hermes, who for the safety of so many illustrious persons had set a Sentinel upon the top of the Tower, was advertised that there appeared a great body of Cavalry coming from towards Ephesus, he no sooner heard of this, but he dispatched one of his men immediately into the Wood to acquaint the Princes with it, giving orders unto the messenger to tell Ligdamis he might carry them into the Thick of the Wood towards the river, where they might be in safety till these Forces were passed by, which as he thought were going unto the banks of Pactolus, where Croesus had appointed his general rendezvouz. This messenger obeying his master, and making all haste, went into the wood to seek for Cyrus: But whether it was out of some fears that he apprehended, or that he was unacquainted with the ways where in probability he might find him; he so wildred himself in the wood, that Cyrus had no intelligence from him. So that this Prince and all his Company took into the Plain, intending to march over it towards the Castle of Hermes again. But he was exceedingly surprised to see a great body of Horse marching: And following the motions of his courageous soul, in lieu of stopping he advanced before the rest; and was no sooner entered into the Plain, but he espied a squadron of Horse some fifty paces from him, and likewise he saw Soldiers between him and the Castle of Hermes, and all the Champaign full of Cavalry and Infantry. This undaunted soul still did never tremble, nor was the least moved at this inevitable danger; but in lieu of any hasty retreat into the wood, his first action was to stay, his second was to turn his head about and see whether he was followed; and I know not whether his third action would not have been to have sought out a desperate death amongst them, if the Prince Artamas, Tigranes, and Phraartes had not forced him to take into the wood by a way which Ligdamis had showed them. Yet could he not get far into it; for since the Lydian Troops had spied them, he who commanded in chief, after he had caused the Body which he commanded to make a halt, he came himself with a hundred Horse to know what they were, not conceiving them to be Enemies, because he could not imagine how Cyrus should pass over the river. However, not to neglect any thing, he went forward; and was no sooner twenty paces within the wood, which was thin in that place, but he perfectly perceived they were no Lydians, and moreover observed they were no great number. So that going after them, and giving orders for those in the Plain to follow, he was presently so near as to fall on, whilst Cyrus marching last, as he that had least desire to fly, would never so much as turn his head, or offer to take his sword in hand, hoping by this courageous action to make their retreat more easy: But at last, Cyrus turning suddenly towards the Lydian Captain who marched in the head of his men, did run his horse so furiously against him, and fell upon him in so courageous a manner that he forced him to retreat a little: All his men made a sudden stop; and Cyrus' 〈◊〉 conding his first blow with another which made a river of blood to follow it, then endeavouring the retreat of his friends, he found himself compassed about with enemies on all sides, without any hopes of escaping: He killed one immediately; but the multitude had certainly smothered him, if Feraulas by good fortune turning his head, and seeing Cyrus in that danger, had not called Chrisantes to his relief, who with the Prince Tigranes, Phraartes, Anaxaris, Aglatidas, Ligdamis, and many others, went unto him; as for the King of Assyria, who marched a long way before with the Prince Artamas, and the rest, they were assaulted by another body of enemies, who were sent to cut off their passages. Never was such a thing heard of, as passed in this wood; for Cyrus knowing that the liberty of Mandana did depend upon him and his life, bestirred himself like a Lion; none who assaulted him escaped, and few who he fell upon could be so quick as to fly, or so ready as to guard themselves, or so valiant as to resist: So that there was very few of all them that were about him, which did not feel the weight of his arm: The valour of Tygranes was very notable, as well as that of Phraartes; the stranger Anaxaris behaved himself so, that Cyrus saw he was the most valiant man in the world; Aglatidas, Ligdamis, Chrisantes, Feraulas, all of them did show such testimonies of prodigious courage to save the life of their illustrious Master, that it is unexpressable. The more the number of their enemies increased, the more did the valour of Cyrus' double; he turned and wound amongst the trees, with such admirable dexterity, and his horse being so obedient unto his hand, did so well second his intentions that he could divers times have saved himself, if he would have left his friends engaged; but his great soul could not consent unto such a thought, but he would still fight it out, though there was no hopes of vanquishing.  
In less than a quarter of an hour, he made great heaps of dead bodies, all the bulks of trees were bloody, the green grass was turned red, and the ground was all blood. All the Caviliers which followed him, had perished at this bout, and certainly he had done so himself, if the Gods had not by their supreme Power preserved him. After he had sought a long time, and seeing none about him but Tigranes, Phraartes, Aglatidas, Chrisantes, Ligdamis, Anaxaris, and Feraulas, his valour increased; but the number of his enemies still increased, and one amongst them intending to kill his horse, did thrust his sword through his flank; so that this illustrious Prince could not possibly hold him, for this furious animal finding himself wounded, he ran away with his Rider whether he would or no through the thick of trees and enemies, some twenty paces off, where falling down dead, Cyrus had much ado to recover himself from under him: but having at last disengaged himself, he perceived that he had nothing in his hand but the stump of a sword, for it was broken against the bulk of a tree, when his horse ran furiously away with him; then being in an instant compassed about with a multitude of enemies, the Conqueror of many Nations must needs be once conquered; yet did he offer to defend himself, but all in vain, for they tumultuously fell upon him, and took him Prisoner, he having not received one wound. Tigranes, Phraartes, Chrisantes, Aglatidas, Anaxaris and Feraulas, seeing that Cyrus was taken, and that it was absolutely impossible to think of releasing, they began to think of saving themselves by flight if they could, all but Feraulas, who suffered himself to be taken, that he might be a partaker in his Master's misfortune: But the rest only defending themselves, and retreating towards the thick of the wood, they fled away so happily, that they who followed them hearing a great noise in the place where the King of Assyria and the Prince Artamas were fight, they made a stop, searing some ambuscado; during which, they got into the thick of the wood, and hid themselves until night, all but Anaxaris, who by the stumbling of his horse, was taken: However, the King of Assyria, the Prince Artamas, Artabases, Adusius Sosicles, Tegeus, and those Caviliers which were with him, had made such a miraculous resistance, and had killed so very many Lydians, that their own valour was their ruin; for those against whom they fought, seeing what kind of men they had to deal withal, sent for fresh supplies: So that seeing on all sides enemies upon enemies; and that the more they killed, the more they had to fight withal, they thought of selling their lives at as dear a rate as they could, especially Artamas: for besides the general interest which they all had not to be taken, he had a particular reason not to fall into the hands of Croesus: Sosicles and T●geus might have the same apprehensions, but yet they were not so deeply concerned as Artamas. However, that fatal Destiny could not be avoided; for after he had received a wound in his 〈…〉 ght arm, and in three other places besides, he was forced to yield himself. The King of of Assyria also was surrounded with so many men, and was taken Prisoner; so likewise were Sosicles and Tegeus; Artabases and Adusius only escaped this dangerous adventure. These two Combats then being thus ended, and all the Lydians which had fought met, and having put the Prisoners which they had taken together, Cyrus, Anaxaris and Feraulas were much surprised, when they saw the King of Assyria, Sosicles, Tegeus, and some other of their Caviliers in the same condition: as for the Prince Artamas, he was so wounded, that he could not be brought.  
In the mean time, these two illustrious Rivals seeing the equality of their fortunes, were both of them both sad and glad. Glad, because a Rival was no happier than himself; sad, because Mandana was without a Protector, especially since the Prince Artamas was both taken and wounded: They were also very much grieved to see that he was known by two Lydian Captains, who had a good desire to have saved him, but durst not. Then they went to advertise him who commanded in chief, and to give him some testimonies of their victory, they carried with them the Prisoners which they had taken; that is to say, Cyrus, the King of Assyria, Anaxaris, Tegeus, Sosicles, Ferulas, and some Caviliers. At their coming out of the wood, Cyrus and the King of Assyria viewed all their forces which were drawn up in the plain: and as they went, these two Rivals observing by their manner of using them, that they did not know them, did agree together not to discover each other, in case they could find ways to escape; and finding an opportunity to hint the same unto Feraulas, as he was witty, so he made it known unto the rest of the Prisoners, hoping that not being known, they would be more negligent in guarding them, and so they might perhaps recover their liberty.  
Yet Cyrus did extremely fear to be carried unto the King of Pontus; and when he remembered how oft he had conquered him, and how that Prince had been his Prisoner, the present condition of his fortune was most insupportable unto him; yet he marched on, though he knew not whither they would conduct him. The King of Assiria asked the question of a Lydian Soldier, who answered, that they were to be carried unto Andramites, who in absence of the King of Pontus commanded in chief; and as he was enquiring more precisely into things, an Officer came and broke off their discourse, imagining that the King of Assiria was suborning the Soldier to further his escape. After this, they marched, and were not permitted to speak so much as to one another, each of them contemplating upon his own misfortune.  
Cyrus was so generous, as not to upbraid the King of Assyria for being the cause of their misfortune, since but for him they had not come unto that place where they were taken: Mean while, they marched on, and at last came unto the place where Andramites was, who knew Tegeus and Sosicles as soon as he saw them; so that not looking much upon any others; I think myself very unhappy (said he unto them, for he was one of their friends) that you should fall into my hands: but since you know what belongs unto honour, I hope you will not think it strange that I should speak unto you as Prisoners of War, and not as unto my friends; therefore I pray tell me what you were doing in the wood, what number of men you had, and what was Prince Artamas his business, whom I know is wounded, and a Prisoner. We cannot tell you (answered Sosicles very prudently) what was the design of Prince Artamas, for we only followed him, and never enquired further; but we can very well assure you his design cannot be very dangerous, since he had only fifty horses with him: And I do verily believe his designs were rather intentions to promote peace then war. But where passed you over the River? (asked Andramites.) Since I will not prejudice that Prince whom now I serve (answered Sosicles, you must excuse me, if I do not tell you where we passed over. But where is Cyrus? asked Andramites. I saw him in the Camp yesterday, when we came away (answered Tegeus, seeing Sosicles not answer quickly.) After this, Andramites having bestowed a civil compliment upon them, commanded an Ephesian Captain to guard them: Afterwards, looking upon the other Prisoners, he found something so great in the aspect of Cyrus, the King of Assyria and Anaxaris, though their arms and habit was very mean, that he called Tegeus again, to ask him of what quality these Prisoners were? And as he answered, that they were only common Caviliers: If all the rest in your Army were such, said he unto him, Croesus will most infallibly lose the first battle he shall fight; for I must needs confess, he hath none such.  
After this, he commanded that the Chirurgeon belonging to the Army should go unto Prince Artamas, and consider which was the best way to carry him: For since he knew that Croesus held the Governor of the Castle of Hermes in suspicion, therefore he durst not go thither, lest he should render himself suspected; so that resolving he should be carried unto some place nearer Sardis; and understanding that his danger was not great, he commanded the Troops to march. All the Troops then beginning to advance, and all the Prisoners yet staying for want of horses, because their own were either killed or taken by such Soldiers as could not be found, they saw appear many Coaches, in which were many women: This sight made the hearts of Cyrus and the King of Assyria to beat; and both of them advancing at once towards the way side, by which these Coaches were to pass: But when they espied Mandana there, O heavens! what were their thoughts? their souls were disordered, their hearts trembled, and were so transported, that they thought to discover themselves, and if shame to appear before Mandana in such a condition, had not restrained them; certainly they had stayed the Coach, and done some act as bold, as their loves were violent. But the thing which most of all disordered their reason, was, that whilst the Princess Palmis, next to whom Mandana did sit, was speaking unto Andramites on the one side of the Coach, Mandana did cast her eyes upon these Prisoners; so that knowing Cyrus and the King of Assyria, she could not possibly choose but cry out; which reaching the ears of these two Rivals, produced different effects, though sad in both: However, the Princess Palmis turning herself at the cry which Mandana made, and ask her what she had seen which caused her so to do, that prudent Princess imagining notwithstanding the disorder of her soul, that Cyrus was not known, considering the condition wherein he was, did ask the Princess Palmis pardon for it: But, said she unto her, I could not choose but be very much moved, when I saw a man amongst the Prisoners, who had served the King my father in a time when I thought myself very happy: In the mean time, Mandana seeing their Coach went, on still, desired the Princess Palmis, to obtain of Andramites the liberty of this Cavalier, not daring then to tell the truth unto the Princess, lest she should be overheard. Palmis desiring nothing more than to oblige Mandana, desired Andramites to let the Coach stay, and this Lieutenant General obeyed her: Then did she entreat him to do her the favour to give unto her one Cavalier which Manda saw among the Prisoners, which he had taken. Madam, said he unto her, you know I ought not to do it. I know very well, said she, that according to the exact and strict rules of war, you are bound to deny me; but withal, I know, that being as I am. you ought to grant me all that is not prejudicial to the King: And you know Andramites, that one simple Cavalier can neither win nor lose a battle. But be it as it will be, said she, I ask him of you; and I promise you the Prince Myrsiles shall recompense it, since I cannot (as the present condition with me is) do it myself. Whilst this Princess was speaking unto Andramites, Mandana looked out on the other side, towards the illustrious Cyrus, who advancing still forward, did both see, and was seen by her.  
In the mean while, the Princess Palmis was so urgent with Andramites for the liberty of this Cavalier, that he began to consent, and asked which it was: Then Mandana, both by her words, and pointing her hand, showing him, and speaking so prudently, that in the end Andramites not being able to deny the daughter of his King so small a favour, was ready to resolve upon it; yet remembering what prodious valour his men reported to be in this Cavalier, he paused a while, and told the Princess Palmis, to excuse himself, that the courage of this man was so great, that even Cyrus, of whom fame did trumpet so many miracles, could not do more.  
Bu● in conclusion, apprehending that this Princess (if Croesus should die, might be revenged on him) he resolved to satisfy her desire: So that causing Cyrus to come near, without telling him why he brought h●m to that side where Mandana was, Valiant man, said Andramites unto him, render thanks unto this princess for the liberty which she hath obtained for you. Cyrus was so surprised at this language from Andramites, that he never thought of an answer; for being so near Mandana, & not daring to speak his real thoughts, nor hardly to look upon her, his spirits were not so free as to behave himself as at other times: yet striving with himself, he saluted the Princess with a most humble Congee, and according to the counsel of Andramites by way of thanks, Madam, said he unto her, I do not know what terms to use, which can sufficiently speak my thanks; and if you judge of my resertments by my words, you have cause to think me ungradeful. You have so faithful lie served the King my father, replied Mandana, that I have more reason to acknowledge your benefits then you mine: However (added she, extremely desiring he should be gone, lest he should be known, and yet unwilling to lose the sight of him so soon) fail not as soon as you are returned to the Camp, to let the King my father know, by the first post which goes to Ecbatan, that I will be ever what I ough 't to be; and that I will never do any thing which shall be unworthy of the honour to be his daughter. I shall not fail, Madam, replied he; But since I fear I shall not be able to obey you any way, but by the Post which Cyrus sends, therefore unless I have some message unto him, he has some reason not to believe me. Tell him from me, said she unto him, that I am very sorry he should so often expose himself unto dangers, as he does for my sake; and I think (said she, and blushed) that Andramites will permit me to entreat that illustrious Prince to do so no more. I should be glad, said Andramites, and smiled, that this Cavalier could persuade him unto it; but I think he will have a hard task to do it. But, Madam, it is time to march, unless you will put yourself unto the inconveniency of night. In the mean time, this Cavalier may pass the River when and where he pleases, for I will give him a horse and a Passport. The Princess thanking Andramites for his civility, turned towards Cyrus, whose mind was so troubled, that he hardly knew whether or no what he saw was true. But whilst Andramites was talking unto one of his men: Will you be pleased to command me any other service, Madam? (said he unto Mandana) I desire you, said she unto him, that you make good use of that liberty which I have obtained for you. Afterwards, Andramites came to them, and desired the Princess they would be pleased to march; and so they did, Mandana looking upon Cyrus as long as she could, with eyes swimming in tears; and Cyrus looking after the Coach, as long as ever he could see it. All this while, the King of Assyria was in intolerable torment to see Cyrus called unto the Coach, and not himself: he was above twenty times ready to have told his name, and if resentment of honour and love had not restrained him, he had infallibly done it: he would needs come up to the Coach also, but his guards stopped him, and Feraulas also did wittily dissuade him. But when Cyrus came to him with the horse and pass port which Andramites gave him, and told him that he was at liberty, his sorrow was so excessive, that he was speechless. Is it the Princess Mandana (said he very low unto him, after he was returned out of his amazed silence) that hath obtained your liberty? It was the Princess Palmis (replied Cyrus) who at her request, did move Andramites to give it unto me. O ye Gods (cried out the King of Assyria, and lifted his eyes up to heaven) is it by the way of slavery you intent to keep your promises with me, and make me happy? Cyrus, who did not understand the sense of these words, because he was ignorant of the Oracle which this Prince received at Babylon, turned himself towards Anaxaris, and told him, he was very sorry that this first adventure they were in together, should prove so unfortunate; but he desired him to be confident, that he would endeavour all imaginable ways to procure his liberty.  
Afterwards he addressed some civilities to Sosicles and Tegeus, then drawing Feraulas aside, he conjured him in his captivity, to make himself known unto Mandana, and to let her see him as oft as possible, to the end she might the ofter think upon him. Feraulas promising not to fail, and they who guarded the Prisoners saying they must depart, Cyrus came near the King of Assyria, and most generously told him, that he would endeavour his liberty with as much earnestness, as if he were one of his dearest friends, and that at the last he would most punctually keep his word with him. But withal, said he, be sure you keep yours: Alas, what can a man in chains do? replied he. You are to be near Mandana, said Cyrus unto him; and I know not whether it be more advantageous to be a captive upon that condition, or to be at liberty, and be at a distance from her. After these words, these two illustrious Rivals parted, Cyrus taking his way towards the Castle of Hermes with his Passport, as if he had stood in need of it, and the Prisoners going towards Sardis, upon such horses as were given them. The King of Assyria at parting from Cyrus, did apprehend such joy, as for a while kept his mind in much serenity: for when he looked before him, he saw the Coach wherein Mandana was: and when he looked behind him, he saw his Rival going further from her, and to pass over that River which would separate them for a long while: So that though he was a Prisoner, he would rather choose that quality in following Mandana, than liberty with Cyrus at a great distance; yet these pleasing thoughts did not last long, but on the contrary, passing from one extremity unto another, he looked upon himself as the most miserable man alive, and upon Cyrus as the most happy. Who did ever meet with an adventure, said he to himself, so cruel as mine is? for I have not only the misery of being a Prisoner, but also to see my Rival released, and released by one who makes his liberty insupportable unto me.  
Does it not seem as if fortune did make him a Captive only to receive the greater testimony of Mandana's affection? and to let me receive the most horrible sign of her aversion, that possibly could be expressed? for most certainly, she saw me as well as she saw Cyrus. Was ever such a piece of inhumanity as this seen? She sees me a Prisoner, and a Prisoner for her cause; and yet in lieu of ask liberty for both, she hath released my Rival only, and loadned me with chains: Though she would not consider me out of any love to me, yet she might well have done it out of love to himself, since my valour is not altogether useless unto Cyrus for her deliverance. But inhuman woman that she is, she has forced me to believe by this act, that nothing can overcome her. And yet the Gods have promised me that I shall make her sigh and mourn for all her cruelty, and that I shall be at rest: But which way is it possible to come to pass?  
Whilst this tumultuous minded Prince was in these contemplations, Anaxaris endured his misfortune with much constancy; telling Tegeus, after he had seen Mandana, that he he did not now wonder that her beauty should cause so great and long a war. Feraulas, though he was much vexed that he had not yet got a sight of Martesia, because she did sit on the other side of the Coach, yet began already to project how there might be intelligence between Cyrus and himself. Tegeus, who had got sight of Cylenisa, and was known unto her, did think more of that pleasing object; then of any danger he was in: But as for Sosicles, his thoughts ran all upon Prince Artamas, whose pitiful adventure he did not yet know of. In the mean time Mandana was no sooner out of sight of her unfortunate Cyrus, but turning towards the Princess Palmis, Dare I tell you, said she in a low voice unto her, that you have given liberty unto that illustrious Prince who only can make me either miserable or happy? How, said the Princess Palmis also in a low voice, was I so happy as to release the invincible Cyrus? I wish to the Gods that the Prince Artamas have no worse destiny than his. As soon as she had said these words, Andramites came unto the Princesses, who had been speaking with a man who came to tell him that the Prince Artamas could not be carried any ways but in a coach; and he desired these Princesses, that they would be pleased to let their women press close in one coach, and permit a Prisoner of quality, who was much wounded, to go in the other.  
Andramites had no sooner said so, but the Princess Palmis began to change colour, and asked him the name of this Prisoner: but as he did not give her a direct answer, as if he were unwilling to tell her, she knew it was the Prince Artamas. So that looking out of the Coach as it was entering into the Wood, she saw the Prince Artamas lying at the root of a Tree, his head upon a Buckler, and his Scarf which held up his right arm bloody in divers places; his Complexion by reason of the loss of blood was wondrous pale; and his eyes then being shut, she thought him dead. Ah Andramites, (said she aloud, making a sign with her hand to stay the Coach) how dare you look upon me, since your men have killed one of the most illustrious Princes in the world? The Princess Palmis spoke these words so high, that Prince Artamas heard her voice, and knew it at the first: Then he did not only open his eyes, but lifted up his head also; and leaning upon his left arm, he offered to get up, looking most earnestly upon her whose voice he heard. But the Coach staying, and Palmis going hastily out, she was with him almost as soon as he heard her voice, or had opened his eyes: But alas, how sad was this sight? I ask you pardon, Madam, said this wounded Prince (as soon as he saw her near him) that I am not able to render you those respects I owe; and for having so ill defended that Life, which might perhaps have been serviceable in procuring your Liberty. It is I who ought to ask pardon, replied she, for being the cause of your miseries and wounds, though I did most devoutly pray unto the Gods for your preservation; who though they would not make me miserable in my own person, yet do most severely torture me in yours.  
Your Expressions, Madam, replied he, make me most happy; and since you are pleased to be a sharer in my misery, let all be converted into joy, since most certainly I shall die without any sorrow. I had rather you would think of living, replied she, though it were only for my sake who cannot live without you. Palmis expressed these words with such earnestness of affection, that they made herself blush, and look about to see whether any heard her: So that seeing the Princess Mandana and all the rest of the women behind her did ask her pardon for so rudely leaving her; and Artamas knowing by it that she was the Princess Mandana, expressed such a Compliment unto that Princess, as it appeared he knew the Passion of Cyrus to be most violent: but since he was ignorant of that Prince's adventure, he began to speak as if he were a Prisoner; until Palmis made a sign he should be silent, and interrupted him by ask whether he could endure the joging of a Coach?  
In the meanwhile Andramites fretting, and fearing if his indulgence should come to the ear of Croesus, he would be angry, beseeched the Princesses not to trouble Artamas any longer, but to lend him one of their Coaches, since it was fit he should be in some place where he might rest himself. Though the Princess knew he had some other reason for what he said, than what he expressed, yet they were contented to satisfy him, and depart from Artamas. I beseech the Gods, Madam, (said he unto her) that either my life or my death may conduce unto your Liberty. And I beseech them (said she, and held her hand out unto him) that I may rather spend all my life in tears for my own misfortunes, then have any cause to shed them for your death: Live therefore, Artamas, if you would have me live; and neglect nothing that may conduce to your preservation. Artamas than most respectively taking that fair and dear hand which she presented unto him, and looking upon her in such a manner as if he would ask leave to kiss it, he saw she blushed, and gently pulling it back, she silently told him that he should content himself with that favour which she had already done him. So that saluting her with as much reverence as his wounds would permit him, he saw her depart with her eyes full of tears, which she could no way hide but by pulling down her hood. Yet would she not have her Coach to move, until she saw Prince Artamas in that which was to carry him unto the next Town, which was not above fifty furlongs from thence; Andramites having no mind to carry him unto the Castle of Hermes, because of the friendship that was between Ligdamis and that Prince.  
After this, the Princess Mandana and the Princess Palmis began to deplore their misfortunes, and to impart their most secret thoughts. In the mean while Ligdamis, who had carried Tigranes, Phraartes, and Chrisantes unto a corner of the Wood where they stayed with much impatience for night, bethought himself of the best ways to conduct them unto the Castle of Hermes, and there to advise upon the best course for Cyrus, whose imprisonment extremely troubled them. Whilst they were in this condition, they heard a noise, and thought themselves discovered: but as good fortune was, it proved to be Artabases and Adusias, who seeking to hide themselves did meet with them. Yet their joy to see one another was qualified, when both sides made a relation to each other of the accidents which had happened: For Ligdamis telling Artabases that Cyrus was taken, he was almost desperate: And Adusius telling Tigranes that the King of Assyria was also taken; and Ligdamis, that the Prince Artamas was both taken and wounded, they did nothing but make a mixture of sorrows among themselves. But night at last being come, and Ligdamis, who was well acquainted with all the turns of the wood, being gone to: see whether they might all come out in safety, found that all the Troops were gone, and the coast very clear; so that he presently returned to his friends, and brought them safe to the Castle of Hermes, where they had the comfort to find the illustrious Cyrus, who resolved to stay there that night; but they found him so sad, as their joys were much mitigated. The sight of Mandana a Captive did so disorder his heart, that he could take no delight in that liberty which was given him; but when he parted from his Rival, he envied him, because he could not part from him but by going further from Mandana. And as soon as he came to the Castle of Hermes, considering his adventure more exactly, the more he envied his Enemy. Yet sometimes he could not well reconcile his own resentments; he no sooner apprehended one thing, but he smothered another; yet he always concluded himself the most unfortunate man alive, and much more unfortunate than his Rival, although he was a prisoner. What good has the gaining of so many battels done me? said he; so many Towns taken, so many Provinces reduced, so many Kings conquered? They have indeed got me a little noise in the world, but they have not all released Mandana, for whom only I made the war. I do not find the glory that I desire; I do not meet with Mandana, but only for her to release me, and not I her. Most miserable Cyrus! (cried he out) why dost thou not die of shame to appear before thy Princess in such a despicable condition as thou didst? Hast thou not good cause to fear that she released thee only, to remove out of her sight an object that was worthy of nothing but her scorn? how canst thou suffer her to release thee, who aspires unto the glory of being her deliverer? There is a necessity of death upon thee; the excess of love and shame must make thee rather receive thy freedom from death, then from Mandana. But how can I die (said he and reprehended himself) when as I have seen her whom I so much desired to see? and has seen her so admirably fair, and so infinitely generous? Hitherto I was a debtor unto the illustrious Mandana, only for some good intentions, and some favourable words; but now, by this adventure, she has given me that which is the most precious thing in the world, my Liberty: She has so loaded me with obligations, that a million of services cannot repay my debt; no, though I should die ten millions of deaths: She has kept me from falling into the power of my Rival and my enemy: She has put me into some hopes of breaking her chains: what would I have more? aught I not to be fully satisfied with my journey? It is true, many of my illustrious friends are Prisoners; but to my comfort, so is my most terrible Rival also; and I shall be delivered from the sight of a Prince, whom I shall be glad to see no more, until Mandana be out of Captivity, and then see him with a sword in his hands.  
But why do I rejoice at that which ought to grieve me? since certainly it would be more advantageous to me to have the King of Assyria at liberty, and in my Army, than a Prisoner with Mandana; and it would be more tolerable unto me to see him continually, then to know that he is continually in the sight of Mandana; for the King of Assyria will be known, as soon as he is at Sardis; and as soon as he is known, Croesus will treat him as a Prince of his quality ought to be, let the King of Pontus his Rival do what he can.  
Thus will this happy Captive see the fair and illustrious Mandana; and whilst I am turmoiling for the liberty of them both, and loaded with chains as he is, he will perhaps win the heart of my Princess, and take from me the sweet fruits of all my Conquests: And if so, what good will all my Conquests do me? And though I should overcome Croesus, and take Sardis, and deliver only unconstant Mandana, can I be at all happy? or if I should fight with a loved Rival, can I ever have force enough to overcome him? or so much as desire a victory, since I am certain to have no share in Mandana's affection? Yes, yes, I will yet desire to conquer, though that cruel chance do happen; and I will not think myself absolutely miserable, if I can but out live my enemy. But why (said this grieved Prince) do I torment myself with imaginary miseries, since I have so many real ones to complain of? Is it not enough that I have lost my hopes of releasing Mandana so soon as I thought, but I must further persecute myself? Yet would I gladly know whether Mandana, who could not choose but know the King of Assyria, did forbear ask his liberty for the love of me, or for the love of him; and gladly would I know, whether the reason why she asked mine, was only to set me further from her. Yet methought her words and her looks were so obliging, as I need not doubt that she is the same she was at Sinope and Themiscira. But yet her beauty is the same, so that I have cause to fear her heart is altered; for if it were true that she did at all love me, she could not possibly but be sensible of my miseries; and than it is impossible she should preserve her beauty so well, amidst so many causes of sorrow, if they were not sweetened by some consolations which I understand not.  
Then the jealousy of Cyrus changing object, the rare qualities of the King of Pontus began to trouble him, and presently after the King of Assyria came into his fancy: but however, his mind did change objects, his sorrow still continued constant, and he could not any ways comfort up himself, because in lieu of his releasing Mandana, she had released him. Cyrus' past over all the rest of the night in such turbulent agitations of mind as these; and he could not understand how it should come to pass that the King of Pontus did not himself conduct these Princesses: or how the friends of Meneceus and Timocrean had given them such false intelligence concerning the setting out of the Princesses. But he understood from the Governor of the Castle, who had it from a Captain belonging to Croesus, that their departure was published to be deferred on purpose to deceive any spies which the Prince Artamas should have about them. And that which kept the King of Pontus from being of the Convoy was, because he was gone with another parry of Soldiers to a Ferry and a Ford, and to guard that place where in Probability their enemies would pass, and intended to meet them nearer Sardis; and since the place where they were to meet was above fifty furlongs from the Castle of Hermes, he could not be there where the fight was.  
Cyrus' apprehending all these circumstances, was much more grieved then before: For he plainly perceived, that if he had received right intelligence, Mandana had most certainly been released: Then did he renew his complaints with more bitterness than before, which yet were interrupted by Artabases, who told him that one of the Cavaliers who had escaped from the fight, had brought him a Table-book which as he said he saw fall out of the King of Assyria's pocket whilst he was fight, and which after the fight was past he took up. He told him further, that finding something written in it in a language which he understood not, and considering how the interests of the King of Assyria and his were linked together, he used his best endeavours to get it out of the hands of this Cavalier, and bring it unto him, since he knew that he understood the language. Cyrus took the Table-book, and being full of curiosity to see it (for it was Cedar, and very magnificently adorned) after he opened it, he read these lines in the Assyrian language.  

The Oracles rendered at the Temple of JUPITER BELUS.  
Well mayst thou hope to make her mourn  
For all her cruelty and scorn:  
Because hereafter in her arms  
Thou there shalt find such pleasing charms,  
As quite shall terminate thy pain,  
And turn thy sorrows into gain.   
Whilst Cyrus was reading this Oracle, Chrisantes entered, and knew it presently to be the same which Martesia told him was rendered unto the King of Assyria at Babylon. So that looking upon Artabases in such a manner as let him know he was very desirous to know who gave this Table-book unto Cyrus, and Artabases telling him it was himself; Chrisantes murmured in such a manner, that Cyrus understood what he said, and turning towards him, Did you know of this Oracle, said he unto him, and when it was delivered? Chrisantes something surprised at this question, sought out for a handsome excuse, but could not meet with one: so that he confessed the truth, and told him, that Martesia, Feraulas, and he were resolved to conceal it from him, lest it should be an addition unto his sorrows. Whilst Chrisantes was excusing himself to Cyrus, he was reading this Oracle over again: Afterwards when he had ended it, Is it possible, oh ye just Gods! (cried he out) that a Prince whom you have so long loaded with misfortunes, should be now so much favoured by you as to make Mandana sigh and mourn for him; and that he shall find such charms in the arms of my Princess, as shall terminate all his sorrows? Why (if I may ask it without crime) did you let her hate him, and love me, if you thought him worthy of your protection? or why did you suffer him to be thrown out of his throne? And if I was thought worthy of your favour, why was not he my Conqueror, or why did he not kill me at the first battle?  
Sir, said Chrisantes, (and interrupted him) As it is not fit for men to prescribe rules unto the Gods, so it is not fit to dive too far into the exposition of their words. I know it very well, Chrisantes, replied he; but this Oracle is so clear, that there needs no other interpretation, but an expectance of the event. For my part, replied Chrisantes, I do conceive it to be more obscure than you think it, since I never heard that the Gods did speak in this manner of future events. Did you never hear of any Prince, replied he, so unfortunate as Cyrus? Do you not plainly see that fortune is favourable unto me, only to be the more inhuman, since she does advance me only to throw me down a greater precipice? And on the contrary, do you not perceive that she has afflicted my Rival to no other end but to make him more sensible of his happiness, and dejected him purposely to advance him? Do you not indeed observe that all his misfortunes prove advantages to him, and conduce unto his happiness? and on the contrary, all my good fortunes are most sensible causes of my misery? For does not his imprisonment bring him nearer her he loves? and does not my liberty carry me further off her whom I adore? It is so long since this Oracle was given, replied Chrisantes, and so little good fortune hath happened unto this Prince since, that methinks he cannot build any great hopes upon such a foundation. Ah Chrisantes, said Cyrus, you dissemble your thoughts to comfort me a little.  
As he was saying so, Artabases was said to be come from the King of Phrygia. Alas said Cyrus, and sighed, that Prince does not know that misery is contagious, nor that his illustrious son is wounded and taken prisoner. After this he commanded that Artabases should enter; and ask him what business he had, he told him that the King of Phrygia had sent in all haste to advertise him, that the friends of Tegeus and Timocreon which were in Ephesus and Sardis, had sent word how they were deceived, and that the departure of the Princesses would be sooner than they had formerly writ; so that the King of Phrygia desires to know what course you intent to take. Why, I have no course to take but to die, replied Cyrus. He thought fit also, said Artabases, to advertise you that they sent him word from Sardis, how Croesus depended much upon an Oracle which he had received from Delphos, so that he makes himself sure of victory. Have they sent this Oracle unto Timocreon? asked Cyrus. Yes Sir, answered Artabases, and the King of Phrygia hath sent it unto you. In saying so, he presented it unto him, which he found to be in these words.  

The Oracle.  
Croesus', if to this War he go,  
An Empire great shall overthrow.   
Oh that it would please the Gods (said Cyrus, after he heard the Oracle read) that I were only to lose Empires and Crowns! if that were all, I should be glad. But alas, since the Gods do promise Mandana to the King of Assyria, and the Empire unto Croesus, what can remain for me? I do not know whether they will leave me a grave, or show me so much favour as to let me die as gloriously as I have lived: However, I am resolved not to yield without resistance; but if I must lose Mandana, and be conquered by those over whom I have been a Conqueror, it shall be after such a manner as shall let all the Earth know I have not merited my misfortune. But yet though it should be so that the heavens do hate me, yet what hath Ciaxanes done, unto whom the Empire belongs? He, I say, who enjoys the fruits of all my victories? Was there such poison in my Conquests, that he must perish, because the Gods are pleased to ruin me? Or at the least, would it be just to confound things so together, as in promising Croesus that he shall overthrow a great Empire, that of Ciaxanes must be ruined? Why then I must die, (cried he out) but my death shall cost my Enemies and Rivals very dear. I have hitherto been something wary of my life in hopes of some happiness hereafter; but since there is nothing but miseries and misfortunes to be expected, I will carry it after another manner, and in ruining myself will ruin as many of my Enemies as I can for company, to the end there may be fewer rejoicers at my death. But oh my divine Mandana! what's become of all those favourable words you have bestowed upon me, if the words of the Gods be true? Can I think you did not speak the truth, or must I think your heart is changed?  
In saying so, he cast his eyes casually upon Madates and Ortalgues, who came with Artalan, and yet he did not see them; and they seeing the turbulency of his spirit, durst not present themselves unto him. As soon as he saw them, I hope you bring me some consolation, said he unto them, and can tell me that the King is well. He is in perfect health, replied Madates: But I left him something troubled, because he had received intelligence that Thomiris hath raised a puissant Army, and gives out she intends to make as deep a progress into Medea, as the Scythians did under the reign of the first Ciaxares; and to communicate this intelligence unto you, the King was pleased to send me hither. He had better have declared war against me (replied Cyrus' most violently) then sent to ask my advice: For considering the state of things, I do think that his only way to be happy, is to be my persecutor. But you Ortalques (said he and turned towards him) who hath been consulting with that famous woman who (as all that have seen her say) speaks all truth: Pray let me have her answer; and tell me if you remember what I appointed you to ask her from me? Yes, Sir, replied he, and according to your directions; I asked her when you might hope for any rest. I also told her, you desired her answer under her hand; so that she giving me this paper sealed up (said he and presented it unto him) I cannot tell you whether I have brought good or bad fortune to you. However, you may tell me whether this woman be as famous in her own Country (said Cyrus whilst he was opening the paper) as she is in others? Sir, said Ortalques, this Helespontique Sibyl is beyond all comparison more famous than all that ever preceded her; and they say she never yet told lie unto any that ever came to consult with her. Let us see then, said Cyrus, what truth she affords me; and then he began to read these words;  

The Answer of the HELESPONTIQUE-SYBIL.  
It is a Loving enemy,  
Will rouse her sleeping hate, I see;  
And plunge in blood a Horo's head,  
No fate can keep from being dead:  
This is his Destiny at best,  
In only this thou shalt have rest.   
As soon as Cyrus had done reading it, he was a while silent, and afterwards made a sign with his hand that every one should withdraw, except Chrisantes. Then he read over again what he read before, and caused Chrisantes to read it also, who no sooner returned the Paper, which contained this dismal answer, but Cyrus looking upon him: Come Chrisantes, said he unto him, how can you any ways interpret this which you have seen unto my advantage? Sir, replied he, I see it is not easy to give it a favourable sense, yet I do not see which way it is possible this misfortune which threatens you, can come to pass; for this loving enemy cannot possibly be Mandana, it must certainly be Thomiris; so that as the state of things stand, I cannot see it is possible you should die by her hand; yet she is raising a puissant Army, replied Cyrus; and they say Ciaxares had not sent Madates unto me, but to interpret the answer of that Sibyl which Ortalques brought unto me.  
I do not understand, replied Chrisantes, that you should quit the War in Lydia, where Mandana is, to go and carry the war unto Massagetes Country where Thomiris is; or if you should, that after you have conquered so many valiant Kings, you can ever be vanquished by a woman. Nor do I myself understand it, answered he, but I understand plainly that my ruin is inevitable: For indeed Chrisantes, both the Gods of Greece, and the Gods of the Assyrians do all presage nothing but dismal Destinies. The Oracle of Babylon gives Mandana to the King of Assyria, the Delphique Oracle promises the Empire unto Croesus, if he pursue the war; and the Helespontique Sibyl does promise my head unto the Queen of Massagetes: Yet this last menace is not the most terrible to me, for my soul is much more troubled for the loss of Mandana, then for the loss of my life: I have hitherto lived in such a manner as well may afford me some hopes I shall die with honour, and therefore I fear not the revenge of Thomiris. Let her hate me as long as she pleases, let her arm both the Scythians against me if she can, my soul will not tremble at it: But that Mandana, the most fair, illustrious, divine Mandana should leave loving me, after she hath given me some hopes of an inviolable fidelity; this is most intolerable: All my constancy, and all my reason, cannot keep me from expressions of my weakness. Were I but assured of Mandana's heart, I would not care one pin for all other misfortunes that can be threatened against me: The loss of so many crowns, as in all appearances are to fall upon my head, shall not cost me half a tear; though the implacable Thomiris were ready to take off my head, yet I should rejoice in the hopes of one tear from the fair eyes of my adored Princess. But alas, how can I hope for one moment of rest, considering all that hath happened in one day unto me? For it is so very apparent by ●e multitude of disastrous adventures which have befallen me in this journey, that the Gods will overwhelm me with miseries, and it were extreme folly to retain the least beam of any hope. I come (out of the fantastical humour of my Rival) to view the place where I hope to release my illustrious Mandana, and in lieu of that I am taken Prisoner myself; also the Prince Artamas, who was my only supporter in the War, he is also taken and wounded: Also it is my fortune to see the Divine Mandana; but though she released me, yet she keeps my Rival. I had no sooner got into a place of safety, but the Oracle of Babylon is brought me, which tells me the Gods intent to make my Rival happy; immediately after that, I receive another from Delphos, which precipitates me from the highest top of glory, into an abyss of misery; after this, I had hardly breathed, but Madates accosts me with a fresh disaster; and I had no sooner heard his tale, but Ortalques brings me a sentence of death pronounced by the famous Helespontique Sibyl: Judge, Chrisantes, if after all these, it is possible I should apprehend the least glimpse of hope: However Chrisantes, I must not merit my misfortunes, I must fight for the liberty of Mandana with as much courage and zeal, as if the gods had not promised her unto my Rival. I must fight against Croesus with as much magnanimity, as if the oracle had not promised him the Empire; I must also carry myself with as much serenity of soul, as if I were not to be the Victim of Thomiris. See Chrisantes (said this grieved Prince) what I ought to do, and what I will do: but I do not know whether I can or no. My soul is questionless above all ambition, and also above any fear of death: but love is so infinitely predominate over my soul, that I know not whether I can endure the loss of Mandana, if it should happen unto me: But proud Thomiris, unto whom the gods have promised my head; though Mandana do prove perfidious, yet you shall never triumph over me: For I am so assured, that my sorrows for Mandana's inconstancy will be my death, that I never need fear the fury of your hand▪ After this, Cyrus desired to put in practise those courageous resolutions which he had set unto himself: and therefore commanded Chrisantes not to tell the answer which Ortalques brought unto any, lest the Soldiers should be dismayed, and lose that confidence which does such wonders in war. After this, he went unto Tigranes, Phraartes, and the Governor of the Castle, with whom he conferred about many things which related unto the war, and to the Prince Artamas: Then taking horse the same hour with those two Princes, Chrisantes, Sosicles, Artabases, Adusius, Madates, Ortalques and Ligdamis, who would not leave him, he took those hundred and fifty horse which he had left near the Castle of Hermes, and returned unto the Camp, with a soul so sunk with sorrows, that he could not possibly all the way he went, rid himself one minute from the multitude of these disastrous events: So that Mandana a Captive, Mandana perfidious, and the King of Assyria happy, were the only thoughts that took up the soul of Cyrus, all the way between the Castle of Hermes and his own Tent.     
The end of the fourth Part. FINIS.  

The Author to the Reader.  
Reader,  
I Am now in the midst of a long Labyrinth of Ten Volumes, which this Book (according to the Model I have framed) is to contain.  
This which I here present unto you, is the Fifth.  
The favourable eye which hath been cast upon the other four parts of Grand Cyrus, makes me hope for the same aspect upon these which are to follow. And since I have spared no pains to set them out in such a dress as may please you, therefore I have some reason to believe that they will answer all my labour.  
If any one be not so well versed in History, as to be acquainted with the Ring of Gyges', which I make use of in my Book, let him know, That it is Zenophon, Diodorus Siculus, and others, who mention it in their writings; and that it is Ariosto who borrowed this precious Jewel from them.  
Let them also know, that it is too much observed in their Books to be omitted in mine; and also since Cicero in his offices hath attributed such transcendent excellencies unto it.  
This is all Reader that I have to say, only this, that the rest of the Parts will shortly follow.  
SCUDERY.   

ARTAMENES, OR The Grand CYRUS. The Fifth Part.  

Book. I.  
CYrus was no sooner come to the Camp, but he bethought himself how to comfort up the King of Phrygia, with all imagineable consolations, after the imprisonment of the Prince Artamas; and to that end, without any stay at his own Tent, he went immediately unto that of the sad Father, to acquaint him with all the particulars of the bad success in his enterprise, and to assure him, that he would neglect no possible opportunities which might regain the liberty of his Son. Sir (said that generous Prince, and interrupted him in his talk) had he lost his liberty in releasing the Princess Mandana, the misfortune had not so much moved me: But I do confess, that since I see his endeavours conduce not to your service, I stand in need of some consolation; it grieves me to see him in a condition so far from being able to pay that debt of services which he owes you, that he is like to perish, unless you become his Liberator: I cannot imagine (replied Cyrus) that our Armies are so inconsiderable in the King of Lidia's esteem, as that he dare offer any violence unto any Prince who is engaged in our quarrel, to a Prince unto whom he is a debtor for many victories; he cannot be ignorant, that Kings are obliged by the Laws of gratitude, as well as other men; and that by how much their degree is elevated above the sphere of subjects, by so much is the sin of ingratitude more horrid in them; therefore let not any fears of any violence from Croessus unto the Prince Artamas disturb the serenity of your soul. Moreover, without all doubt, the King of Susiana, and the King of Pontus will be his Mediators and Protectors; for they being men of generosity, will most certainly oblige Croessus to be no more rigorous unto the prisoners which he hath taken, than I am unto the Queen Panthea, and the Princess Araminta. However, since there is no discretion in trusting too much unto the generosity of enemies, I will to morrow dispatch an Envoy unto Croessus, to let him know what interest I have in the person of the Prince your Son: I will also move the two Princesses, which I named before, to write some Letters in his favour; and my earnest endeavours shall tell you how much I esteem his person and how dear his interests are unto me. The King of Phrigia expressed abundance of thanks unto Cyrus for his indulgency towards him, and took the sad disaster with a magnanimous constancy. Cyrus' thought it no discretion to tell him that the Prince Artamas was much wounded: as well because he would not oppress him with too great a load of sorrows at one time, as because he was in hopes to hear some happy news of his recovery. After this, he retired unto his Tent, where common civility obliged him to spend an hour or two with the Commanders of his Army who came to see him; and after that, he allowed another hour in dispencing requisite orders in his Martial matters: after which, retiring himself in private, with none but Chrisantes, he spent the rest of the night in contemplation of his great misfortunes, and the multitude of his miseries: And though the consideration of them did most sensibly grieve him, yet did they not at all blunt his courage; but on the contrary, the more miserable he perceived himself, the more did he rouse up his soul to oppose the malignity of his Fate; and although he had a hurt which was most tender and sensible, yet was it ever firm and unshaken. This advantage he had, that he was sensible of no miseries, but such only as Love brought upon him; as for any others, his soul was seated so infinitely above them all, or any thing that could hap, that they never reached him, or if they did, it was but weakly. He had been a prisoner, and fallen from the top of happiness into an Abyss of misery; but since he was not guilty of any crime, he stood not in need of all his virtues, to support him: Death itself, how terrible soever, could never stagger his soul, though he had a hundred and hundred times been so near it, that he had reason to believe himself swallowed up by it: But as his soul was as constant as any Rock against the rigorous surges of Fortune, so was it also most tender, and so sensible, that it could not endure without unconceivable sorrow, all those torments which Love brought upon him. This Prince, who questionless could lose Crowns and Sceptres without any alteration of countenance, could not think upon the loss of Mandana without such trembling of heart, as all his Reason could not master. He spent a great part of the night in talk with Chrisantes, but at last, being more desirous to allow some rest unto a man whom he loved, then to take any unto himself, he dismissed him, and lamented his misfortunes unto himself, until very weariness did insensibly against his will cast him asleep, and gave some respite unto his restless thoughts. 'Tis true, this truce lasted not long, for he awaked by break of day; he forgot not the least circumstance of his promise unto the King of Phrygia; so that casting his thoughts upon Aglatidas for an Envoy to Croessus, he caused him to be sent for unto him; and appointing him a Herald to conduct him unto Sardis, he commanded him to follow after him unto the place where the Queen of Susiana and the Princess Araminta lodged, to the end, that when he had obtained his desires from them, he might there give him his last instructions. He took horse then immediately, and a very small train followed him, because he desired it should be so: He arrived at the Queen of Susiana's lodging, whom Araspes said was ready, and might be seen: Indeed that Princess was then newly returned from the Temple, which every morning she frequented, because her restless thoughts would not give her leave to sleep much. When she knew what had happened unto Cyrus, she was extremely sorry for him, and for herself also; For truly Sir (said she unto him) If the Gods would have permitted you to have released Mandana, most certainly you would have kept your promise, and all Wars being at an end, I should have been in hopes to have seen my dear Abradates, and have seen him your friend, since being so generous as he is, I am very certain, that when he knew how you have treated me, it would have most sensibly wrought upon him. However Madam (replied Cyrus) It is in your power to do me a very good office, until it shall please Fate to be weary of persecuting me. Alas Sir, (replied Panthea) Is it possible, considering my condition, that I should be able to do any thing which can testify my resentments of all your favours to me? Doubtless you are, answered he, if you will be pleased to take so much pains as to write a word unto the valiant Abradates, and desire him to move Croessus not to treat the Prince Artamas too hardly, and to use all the other prisoners which he took in this sad adventure very well, for I make no question but he will consent unto whatever you shall desire: I do not tell you Madam, that according as he shall do unto them, you shall be better or worse treated; but on the contrary, to induce you unto a more obliging Letter, that though he shall deny what I desire, yet I will never fail in those duties which I owe unto your Quality and Virtue, and that by my consent you shall never receive the least distaste. Your expressions are so full of generosity (replied she) that I were most unworthy of your protection, if I did not use the utmost of my power for your satisfaction, especially since your demands are only such as equity itself ought ●o enforce from me. After that Cyrus had returned some thankful language, he told her, that he would leave her at liberty to write, and go to address the same desires unto the Princess Araminta to the King her Brother. He found her no less disposed to grant him a Letter unto the King of Pontus, than Panthea unto the King of Susiana: She thought herself something interested in it, for the person of Anaxaris was now very precious in her thoughts, since she understood he had saved the life of Spitridates, insomuch as she told Cyrus, that he was not at all beholding unto her for writing in favour of those prisoners, since there was one amongst them unto whom she was so much obliged. When Cyrus had stayed as long with her as he thought Panthea might be in writing her Letters, he left Araminta, to give her the same liberty, and returned to the Queen of Susiana's Chamber; who would needs show him the Letter which she had writ unto her Husband. He did a long time refuse to see it, testifying a complete confidence in her: But since she would needs have him understand it, she began to read aloud what she had writ: These were the words.  
PANTHEA unto her dear ABRADATES.  
SIR,  
WHen I shall relate unto you all the miseries of my Captivity, I have nothing to say that troubles me, but the deprivation of yourself: Questionless, it troubles you to be an Enemy unto such a Prince, as knows so well how to use a Victory, and who renders me as much respect in his own Camp, as I was wont to receive at Susa when I was there: Wonder not then, if I entreat you to become a Mediator and a Patron unto all the Prisoners which Croessus hath, or shall hereafter take, especially unto the Prince Artamas, who is infinitely dear unto the illustrious Cyrus. I do not intimate, that you may do him most acceptable offices in the Person of the Princess Mandana; for you may judge by those which he doth unto me, how he will resent those which you do unto him: I say those good offices which you do unto him, because I question not but you will repay that debt which I owe unto this generous Conqueror. However, let me assure you, that notwithstanding all his favours and goodness to me, I must needs think myself the most unfortunate woman in the world, as long as I am separated from my dear Abradates.  
PANTHEA.  
This Princess had no sooner done reading this Letter, but Cyrus rendered her a million of thanks; and as he was ready to take his leave, the Princess Araminta comes in, and brings hers, which was no less obliging then the other; needs would she have him see it before she sealed it; so that after he asked the Queen of Susiana's leave, he read these words.  
The Princess ARAMINTA unto the King of Pontus.  
SInce I know what thoughts you entertain of the invincible Cyrus, I know you will be very glad to understand, that you may most sensibly oblige him in behalf of the Prince Artamas, whom I beseech you to Patronise and protect; for I doubt not, but that in all things which relates not unto your love, you will be ready to do him all possible good offices. I thought it my duty to give you this advice, and to conjure you for my own sake, to take especial care of one Prisoner, whose name is Anaxaris, unto whom I am a debtor for the life of the Prince Spitridates. I thought it also convenient to tell you, that since our last meeting, when I could not obtain my desires of you, the Illustrious Cyrus hath not altered his course of treating me most civilly, and that the bad success of my negotiation has not made him more rigorous: Be therefore, I beseech you, a prevolent Defender of all the Prisoners which the King of Lydia took, especially those whom I named, if my prayers have any prevalency with you, or if you value the friendship of unfortunate  
ARAMINTA.  
I wish unto the Gods (said Cyrus after the reading of the Letter) that it were permitted me to restore unto you your absolute liberty, thereby to testify my acknowledgements unto you both, but I hope I shall not die without that satisfaction. In the mean time, since I must lose no time, I beseech you give me leave to go and dispatch Aglatidas; and then, after that, these Princesses had returned answers unto his civilities, he went out, but without taking any leave, because he intended to dine there: Then did he give full instructions unto Aglatidas, as well what to do in behalf of the Prisoners, as to inquire concerning the Princess Mandana: He did also hint unto him to have a most tender care of Feraulas; then going unto the Chamber of Araspes, who seemed always to be extremely melancholy; he writ unto Croessus in these words.  
CYRUS unto the King of Lydia.  
THough I doubt not of your generosity, in using those prisoners well, whom the Fate of War has brought into your hands; yet I must needs write unto you in behalf of those prisoners which one of your Lieutenant Generals did take near the River of Hermes, especially for the Prince Artamas. Consider, I pray you, that he ought not to be treated as a Prisoner of State, but only as a Prisoner of War, with whom you ought to deal according to the Laws of Generosity and Justice, both in treating him most kindly and civilly; his quality, his virtue, and the services which he hath done you, oblige you unto it. If this be not sufficient to induce you thereunto, let me add further, That I have not hitherto been so unfortunate, but that I have a good ground of hope before the War be ended, to retaliate civility for civility; transact then the matter more justly for my friends, than you have equitably for the Princess Mandana; you may put an end unto the War, whensoever you shall please to restore her unto the King her Father, and be assured, that when you do so, I shall as zealously fight then for your Interest, as now I do for hers.  
CYRUS.  
As soon as Cyrus had writ this Letter, he gave it unto Aglatidas: he enjoined him also to inquire whether the King of Assyria had seen Mandana, and to negotiate in his behalf, as well as for the other prisoners: Not but that it is a piece of difficulty, said he, to be so officious for a Rival; yet since my word is engaged, and generosity exacts it, I must needs do it. He put him in mind also of the stranger Anaxaris, of Sosicles, and of Tegeus, and he was just ready to dismiss him, when Ligdamis, who followed Cyrus, to the end he might have a sight of his dear Cleonice, came unto him, and told him, that since he understood Aglatidas was preparing for Sardis, he thought it his duty to acquaint him with some things there, which happily might be advantageous to him. Cyrus both thanked and embraced him, and told him, that it appertained unto such a man only as was deep in Love, to have compassion of another Lover. Then conjuring him to be as good as his word, to the end Aglatidas might more easily meet with exact intelligence, concerning Mandana, Ligdamis in order thereunto, gave him a Letter to be delivered unto a friend of his in this Lydian Court, unto whom he might safely intrust himself, especially since the transaction was a good office to the interests of the Lydian King. Then after Cyrus had seen the Letter which Aglatidas was to carry, and had once again repeated the most important matters which he was to negotiate, bidding him endeavour to see the Prince Artamas, he dismissed him, and stayed still in the Chamber of Araspes, without any other company than Ligdamis, whose conversation did infinitely please him, although there be a vast difference between a happy Lover, and an unfortunate: Yet, Ligdamis had a soul so tender and complaisant, and did so serve himself into the opinion of Cyrus, that his company was a great comfort unto him. This Prince did principally intend to spend part of that day in this Castle, because it was full of such persons as were possessed with the same passions, that took up his own heart. He knew Panthea loved Abradates, that Araminta loved Spitridates, and that Ligdamis and Cleonice loved most extremely: So that finding some sweetness in condoling with those that sympathized with him in the same miseries, he resolved not only to dine there, but to spend the rest of the day there also. Mean while, because he would not lose any time, he sent Chrisantes with divers orders to the Army, to visit the works which he was there making in a Quarter, not above fifty furlongs from thence. As soon as Cyrus heard that the Princesses were ready, he went to see them: for his part, he had dined in private at the Chamber of Araspes without any other company but Ligdamis, whom he carried along with him in this Visit: So that the Conversation consisted of the Queen of Susiana, the Princess Araminta; of Cleonice, Ismenia, of Cyrus, Ligdamis and Araspes. As soon as each one had placed themselves, Cyrus turning towards the Queen of Susiana, beseeched her to pardon him for coming thither, to seek for some comforts in his miseries. Sir, answered that discreet Princess, if my miseries can afford you any ease in yours, I shall endure them with much more patience than I have done. No Madam, said he, I came not to see you to that end, but because I thought you all goodness, and full of pity: Most men I meet with do think, that because I am not unfortunate in matters of War, I cannot be unfortunate in any thing else: Indeed they think Love to be but an imaginary Passion, a Chimaera, which reigns only in the fancy, and never disturbs the rational parts: Whatsoever I say, they believe that the loss of one Battle does trouble me more than the loss of my divine Mandana; though most certainly, the loss of a hundred Battles, and as many Crowns to boot, does not comparably trouble me so much as one hours' separation from that Angellique Princess: Imagine then, I beseech you Madam, what a vexatious life it is, to be perpetually amongst a company of men who are ignorant of my sensibilities; and) judge also how pleasant it is to me to be amongst such as are composed all of tenderness and compassion: yet must I needs except Araspes from the number of such, because his Soul seemed always most insensible, but since Ligdamis became a Convert, I will not despair of him, but on the contrary, knowing the tenderness of his affection towards myself, I am persuaded it is no impossibility, but hereafter he may fall in love with some excellent Beauty or other. Araspes blushed at this discourse: but Cyrus taking no great notice of the alteration in his face, the discourse went on; and the Princess Araminta, addressing herself to Cyrus, For my part, said she, I am of your opinion; but as for the Queen, if she do not contradict you, certainly it is out of her complaisance; for she has several times told me, that she never found any great comfort either in pitying or being pitied; and indeed, she does so closely lock up her sorrows in her own heart, that she never speaks the first: But, I who am nothing of her humour, have related all my misfortunes unto her; and not a day passeth but I am discoursing of them. It is very true, replied Panthea, I do not much care for talking of any thing which concerns myself; I never think of things past; the future is it which engrosseth all my Soul: methinks I have so little enjoyed myself in any thing which hath happened unto me this three or four year, that it is much better for me to think only of what is to come. Things future are so full of obscurity (replied the Princess Araminta) that I am so far from thinking of them, that I banish them my thoughts, lest I should forge such miseries unto myself, as Fortune perhaps never thought on. Gladly would I do as you say, replied Cyrus, but I find it impossible. For my part, said Panthea, since fear and hope are two passions which divides all my Soul between them, and that I find nothing either to hope for or fear in things already past, I cannot rest my mind upon them. Yet is it much better, replied Cyrus, to have a heart divided between hopes and fears; for I do know some who stand in fear of every thing, and hope for nothing. Since the virtue is so great, and the Gods so just, replied Panthea, it would be an injury unto them to despair of your good fortune. Since you are not happy, replied Cyrus, and since the Princess Araminta is unfortunate, it were presumption to be over confident of that little virtue which I own: We see Madam, there are some things which seem just in the eyes of men, which are not so in the sight of the Gods: for truly, it must needs be acknowledged, that the King of Assyria, the King of Pontus, and the Prince Mazares, who died near Sinope, were three Princes who could be taxed with no Crime, but that of overloving Mandana, yet we see how that Princess, who is virtue in the abstract, hath caused all the miseries of their lives and mine: Mazares lost his Life; the King of Pontus his Throne and Liberty; the King of Assyria his Crown and Liberty also: After all this, Madam, what should we think of the future? must it not needs be concluded, that whosoever never thinks of it, is certainly most wise? But yet I must confess to my shame, that I cannot choose but foresee the miseries which ought to befall me. It is much better therefore, replied the Princess Araminta, to apply one's self to the memory of things past. If they be delighting, replied Panthea, to think that they are not still enjoyed, is vexatious. If they be disastrous and irksome, replied Araminta, the thoughts of them now are pleasing, because they are passed: for my part, when I remember the condition I was in when I was at Cabira, and when the Coward Artanus kept me there, methinks that since I am come out of his rude captivity, I may well hope to come out of one more pleasant: And for my part, said Panthea, when I remember how happy I was at Susa, after I had overcome all those obstacles which opposed my happiness, I do not think it possible ever to be in the same condition; and therefore I strive as much as I can to forget those things, the memory of which does but the more trouble me: However you have promised me, replied Araminta, to acquaint me with all the joys and miseries of your life, as I have acquainted you with mine. Indeed I did consent (answered she) that Pherenice should acquaint you, and therefore your curiosity shall be satisfied without reviving such things in my memory, as I wish I could quite eradicate: Why then (said Cyrus, and addressed himself to the Princess Araminta) do you not urge the promise? Sir, replied she, till now I have not had the opportunity, for it was but this morning at our return from the Temple, that the Queen did make this promise: Then it is fit I should absent myself, replied Cyrus, lest I should hinder you from what you desire, for indeed I dare not presume to ask the favour, not but that I have a great desire to hear the passion of the illustrious Abradates discoursed of, that I might compare his with my own; but I know the duty which I owe unto a great Princess, and therefore will not be too pressing to know her secrets. Truly Sir (replied Panthea with a modest smile) I am not very free in imparting them, yet I am most willing you should know the whole story of my life; and it does in some sort concern me, that you be acquainted with that innocent passion which yet possesseth the heart of Abradates and my own; therefore when you have any hours of leisure Sir, she who was appointed to satisfy the curiosity of the Princess Araminta, shall satisfy yours also. Methinks Madam, replied that Princess, that without the expense of any more time in talk of things indifferent, it could not be better employed then in satisfying the desires of the illustrious Cyrus, and myself. Since it is my resolution to do any thing which shall please you (answered Panthea) you may employ the time as you please, provided I be not present. Then the Princess Araminta rising up, said, that she would carry Cyrus into her Chamber, who without any further opposition presented his hand to conduct her thither. Panthea did blush as much at their salutes, as if some crime which she had committed were going to be related: But considering seriously it would be advantageous unto her, that Cyrus were better acquainted with the virtue of Abradates, she sent her woman, who was to relate the story of her life, with the Princess Araminta; she was one of good quality and wit, and who had always been a confident of her secrets. In the mean while Cleonice and Ismeni stayed with Panthea, unto whom Araspes and Ligdamis, after they had accompanied Cyrus to the Chamber of Araminta, returned. Araminta being conducted by this Prince, and followed by Pherenice and Hesionida, she was no sooner in her Chamber, but desiring Cyrus to sit down, and placing Pherenice over against her, she desired her to begin the story, and not to conceal from them the least thought of Panthea and Abradates: After Pherenice had in a compliment desired pardon unto her deficiency to make such a relation, she began thus.  

The History of ABRADATES, and of PANTHEA.  
THe honour which I have had to be educated with the Queen of Susiana, and the happiness which I have had to be ever loved of her, enables me with any difficulty to let you know all the particulars of her life, the beginning of which was much freer from disastrous adventures than was the sequel. I shall not need Madam to speak of her high birth, for you know that the Prince of Clasomena her father was of an extraction so illustrious, that the blood of Croessus was not more: The Princess her mother was also descended from a great house, but she lost her so young, that she cannot remember she ever saw her; 'tis true, that this Princess was educated by one that was Sister unto the Prince her father, and lived with him, under whom she was as well educated, as she could hope to be under the Princess her mother. Baselina (for so was the sister unto the Prince of Clasomena called) was a Lady of a high spirit, and great virtue, who since she had lost her Husband when she was very young, would never marry again: She had been fair and Courtly; and though she was as complete in all virtue as any Lady of her Quality was capable of, yet was she not of the too too austere Sect: She would say, that one must be young once in their life, and it was much better to be of a young disposition at fifteen, then at fifty; so that the Prince her brother wholly referring the education of his daughter unto her, she allowed her an honest freedom, without any rigid hand of severity over her, which course did produce in her a more early and riper wit, than others of her age were accustomed to have; so that at twelve years of age the Princess of Clasomena did behave herself with as much discretion and judgement, as if she had been completely twenty: As for her beauty, I need not enter into any Eulogies of it, since you may very well conclude what it was, by what it is; yet let me say thus much, that her beauty did at the very first appear, and she was most admirably fair from her very Cradle; her disposition, though something serious, yet was ever complaysant and sweet; so that joining a perfect goodness unto one of the purest wits upon earth, and unto one of the greatest beauties of all Lydia, it may easily be imagined that the Princess of Clasomena did attract the admiration of all the world. Some glimpse of her beauty and wit did sparkle throughout all the Town, for in her passage from infancy to the age of reason; indulgent cares to please her made all the women amiable, and the men complete: Being both handsome and free, she was adored by all that came near her, and all those also who heard of those rare qualities wherewith she was adorned; so that the fame of this Princess did in a very short time spread over all those Provinces which bordered upon that over which her Father was Sovereign. Cleonice whom you see here may easily induce you to imagine, that she was not amiable only in Clasomena; for the truth is, all strangers stayed there with abundance of delight, and did confess there was not so much wit and politness to be found in any Town of all Asia, as in that. Residence in Clasomena became more delightful a little while after Cleonice went to dwell at Ephesus, because then many strangers of great quality came thither, and stayed a long while; amongst which some were most complete men, who made society most delectable, and took away from Clasomena that defect which was found in all the Provinces and petty Courts there, which was, that every day none but the same faces were to be seen. One thing did sometimes much perplex the Princess Baselina, which was, that there was not one man in all the principality of her brother, who was a fit match for her Niece; so that all those who saw her, were such as durst only admire her, or at the least durst not express any other thoughts. Amongst all the complete Gallants in Clasomena, there was one, whose name was Perinthus, being older than Panthea some five or six years, who devoted himself unto the Prince, and who did so much obtain his liking, that he would never be without him; his Father spent all his days in the Prince's house, and also died in the service of his Master. It must needs be confessed, that Perinthus stood not in need of any commendums, for his person was very handsome, and his wit charming, so that it was impossible to deny him favour, to be a very complete man as he was; he had one odd quality, which was, that he never contracted any intimate friendship with any one in particular; he held fair with every one, but he opened not his heart unto any; he would sometimes say, when he was chid for so doing, that he gloried in hiding his most secret thoughts, even from his best friends, However, he was very well beloved: Those who were frequently with him, would trust him with their business of greatest importance; as well because he had great abilities to give good advice, as because he was a man of exact honesty, and incorruptible fidelity: Thus without discovering his own heart unto any, he saw into the hearts of many men: Perinthus was handsome, and of a good behaviour, of a pleasant conversation, and without being either too serious, or too free, did equally sort with all manner of humours, and people of what quality soever; and indeed as the Prince of Clasomena loved him most dearly, so the Princess Basilina loved him no less. Panthea also esteemed him as much as his desines could wish, all my companions did most tenderly affect him: All the Ladies of the Town did the same; and indeed Perinthus had been the most happy man alive of his quality, had he not entertained a secret enemy in his heart, which troubled all his joys, and rendered him as unfortunate, as he seemed happy unto all those that knew him. For Madam, to the better understanding the sequel of this History, be pleased to know, that Perinthus did fix his love upon the Princess of Clasomena above the capacity of his heart; but yet his love was so respective, so prudent, and so violent altogether, that he was never heard to utter one syllable of any such passion: He has told me since (when by the consequence of things which since fell out, he was forced to confess the truth) that as soon as he perceived this predominate passion, which he could not master, to be in his soul, and from which he could never hope for the least satisfaction, he resolutely determined to contract no intimate friendship, neither with any man, nor any Lady, lest it should so fall out, that through weakness he should discover unto all the world that which he desired to keep a secret. He has also told me, that he was so perfectly acquainted with the folly of loving, so disproportionable to his own quality, that he durst never so much as think of letting her know he loved her: For since the virtue of Panthea began to appear in lustre, and to dazzle his eyes, he has sworn a hundred times unto me, that after many years of service and Love, he never enjoyed one minute of any hope; however he struggled with his passion, yet not knowing why or to what end he should either oppose or cherish it: Still he loved the Princess, but in such a secret manner, and with so much reverence, that there was not one in all Clasomena as long as we were there, no not the Princess herself, which could have the least suspicion of it; and truly, to speak the very truth, although Perinthus was descended of a very Noble Family, yet there was such a vast difference between him and her, that it is no wonder that none should suspect any such thing; all humble respects was but his duty by birth, and it was an easy matter to umbrage his real thoughts under that, when he every day did render her a thousand agreeable services: However, considering with himself, that he could never pretend unto any of her affection, no nor so much as acquaint her with his, he limited his desires to obtain her esteem: And being desirous to purchase some glory in the Wars, he went thither where the illustrious Cleander, now Prince Artamas was in Mysia; where he performed such admirable acts, that if there were not a secret Loadstone which drew his heart unto Clasomena, he might well have raised himself unto a great fortune under this generous Favourite. In the end, he returned loadned with honours unto the Prince his Master, who made him extreme welcome at his return. The Princess also received him very well, and questionless Perinthus had this consolation amidst his miseries, that he was arrived unto such a point as he desired to be. This Madam is the description of Perinthus, to wit, the most discreet, but the most unhappy Lover in the world; and this was the state of his passion, when the Prince of Clasomena took his resolution to go and dwell at Sardis, and to carry thither with him the Princess his daughter, with intentions not to return until he had bestowed her in marriage. As he was a Tributary unto Croessus, and had been at a Treaty, by which the Princes of Clasomena were obliged to live the half year at Sardis; after a long absence from thence, under several pretences and excuses, he resolved to go thither, and discharge the duty; and the rather, because he saw unto what a height the valour of Cleander had raised the Authority Royal; therefore he yielded obedience by fair means, rather than to draw a War upon his Country, and be compelled unto it by force. Sardis being at that time in her highest lustre, the whole Train of the Prince and Princess were very glad of the journey, except Perinthus, who fretted at it in secret, by reason of some resentments proceeding from his love. Hitherto he had this advantage, that he saw none make any attempts of service upon Panthea, because as I told you before, there was not one man in all the principality of Clasomena, who could pretend marriage: But when he considered, that now she was going to Sardis, where many men suitable to her own quality did inhabit, he made no question but she would be loved and adored by many; so that his fear of having many Rivals, rendered him most miserable. I remember when I observed, notwithstanding all his disguisement, that he never made any expressions of such joys for going unto Sardis, as all the rest did, who were to go this voyage: I asked him the cause, but he answered with as much civility as subtlety, that it was because he should no longer enjoy neither the sight nor society of all those that were most dear unto him. For (said he further, the better to disguise the matter) all the gallantry of the men which the Prince carries with him, will there fall all in Love: Then he said further, (because his discourse should reach at me) and I see that all the Gallants in that place unto which we are going will fall in Love with all the Beauties which the Princess carries with her. My Master himself will be so busy in making his addresses at Court, that I cannot make mine unto him: And as for the Princess, I believe she and her thoughts will be much taken up with variety of Courtships; so that foreseeing that I shall be without Master, without Mistress, and without friends; it need not be wondered if I be not so gay and pleasant as you are. For my part, said I unto him, and smiled, I am so far from understanding your last discourse, that I know no reason why we should remain in the deserts of Lybia, rather than go unto Sardis. Perinthus smiled to hear me say so, and without any further continuance of this discourse we parted, and every one prepared for the voyage. The Princess Basilina could not go this journey, for she had some Controversies, and Suits of great importance with the kindred of her late Husband, so that Panthea went to Sardis only with the Prince her Father. I shall not relate unto you Madam, how she was received by Croessus, by the Prince Atis, by the Prince Myrsilles, by the Princess Palmis, by Antaleon, by Mexaris, by Artesilas, and by the illustrious Cleander: but I shall employ the time better, in relating things more necessary to the story. Let it suffice that I tell you only in general, that they rendered unto the Prince and Princess all the honours that was due unto their quality and merit: The Princess Palmis, and the Princess of Clasomena did at the first contract a great league of amity, and though they were both of them fair enough to beget envy in the hearts of each other, yet the least spark of it did not appear: Their souls were certainly of a far higher and more noble temper, then to be capable of any thoughts so base: but love they did, and that with all sincerity, though to speak the very truth of things, they did never enter into any such deep confidence of each other, as to impart the secrets of their lives, not but that they had sufficient esteem of each other for it; but since Celenisa had engrossed all the confidence of the Princess Palmis, I also had the happiness to enjoy that of the Princess Panthea. The truth is, her secrets at that time were of small importance, however I was much obliged to her for her imparting her real thoughts of things unto me, which she never did before the rest of my companions. I make no question Madam, but you are acquainted with that contrariety of humours that is between the King of Lydia, and his Brothers, and therefore I need but hint unto your memory, that the Prince Antaleon was most violently ambitious, one that would ruin all so he could but reign; and that Mexaris was as covetous as Croessus was liberal, though Mexaris in riches was not inferior to him: And certainly, this vice did never appear so strange in any as in this Prince, as you will see by the sequel of this discourse: However, he was capable of one passion, one of whose noble effects was to produce liberality. I am verily persuaded Mexaris thought that in matter of Love it was enough to give his heart, and that's the reason he never offered to stifle that passion which the beauty of Panthea did inspire into his soul: But his only thoughts were to obtain the affection of the Princess, without any conditions of charge unto himself, and therefore he never offered to hinder his growing passion, but loved her as much as his soul was capable of loving. This fire for a while was closely smothered up in secrecy, and in the interim, the Princess was visited and courted by all the great and illustrious Gallants of Sardis. Amongst the number of those who came to see her, there was one whose name was Doralisa, of good quality, who did infinitely please her; and the truth was, she was no ordinary person, for besides her charming beauty, she had a pleasing and merry wit, but so full of reason, that she brought all the world unto her own sense of things. She had a subtle and witty way of jesting, against which there was no defending one's self, when she was in the humour of it, and that which was most rare to be found in one of that humour, she was full of goodness and sweetness also; she did in many occasions more delight those which heard her, then hurt those whom she did play upon, but yet she made many stand in awe of her when we came to Sardis: But yet for my part, I must confess, I ever loved her without any fear, and endeavoured to confirm the Princess in that advantageous opinion which she entertained of her; and truly I found no difficulty in doing so, for her own natural inclination did bias that way so strongly, that she loved her most tenderly. Doralisa also made such respectful and obliging returns unto the goodness of the Princess, that within a few days the Princess of Clasomena was as affable and familiar with ●er, as if she had been acquainted from the Cradle. She understood from several reports, and afterwards from herself, that though she had living neither Father nor Mother, but lived with an Aunt, who had no compulsive power over her: and though she was yet very young, yet had she already refused above twenty offers of Marriage; for when we came to Sardis, she was not above eighteen years of age, not that she appeared of any rigid or savage disposition, for rather on the contrary, she was of a free and jocand Spirit; she was a lover of company and divertisements, and there was not any Gallantry in all the Court wherein she had not her share, insomuch as there seemed no inclination in her to become one of the veiled Nuns of Ephesus, and therefore they would sometimes desire her reasons why she refused so many Gallants and complete men which proffered themselves in way of Marriage: But she would always answer with a smile, that it was, because she had not yet met with such a man as she sought for, and whom she phancied as a good fortune unto herself. Thus turning the matter always into a kind of Rallary, and leaving every one to guess at her meaning, they imagined that she had an aversion towards Marriage, and that she had no other reason for carrying the matter as she did. The Princess then knowing thus much, upon a time when she was not very well, and had sent for Doralisa to divert her, she told her, that she had a great desire to know who that man was, whom she said she sought for, and could not find. Since it is your desire Madam, said she and smiled, be pleased to know that I have a fancy never to marry any man, but such a one as I am sure loves me, and such a one as I do love. The first of these, replied the Princess, methinks is easily found: It is not so easy, replied she, but in truth the second is as difficult, or to express myself a little better, impossible. Methinks, said the Princess, you offer a great affront unto the Town and Court of Sardis, to think that there is not one man in it sufficiently accomplished to win you by his services to accept of his affection. Madam, said she unto her, there is a thousand accomplished Gallants in Sardis, but amongst them all, there is not one who has not already loved some or other, and that's my reason why I can affect none of them; For truly, if I could suffer myself to be loved, and could resolve to love, I would choose one whom Nature only has dressed up a complete man, without the adulterate helps of Love, one who should offer me a fresh new heart, which never had received any impression but my own, nor burned in any flames, but such only as kindled at my eyes. But Madam, where is it possible to find such a modelled man as I seek after? at the least I am sure, that amongst a hundred thousand which I have seen, there is not such a one to be met withal. Nature alone (added she) does sometimes make them handsome and fair, but they are never of a good behaviour if they have never been once in Love with any; and a man can never have a pleasing spirit, unless once in his life he have made it his business to please some or other. The Princess began to laugh at the discourse of Doralisa, but afterwards said unto her, Love does never infuse spirit into those who have none of their own. I do assure you Madam, replied Doralisa, that though it do not infuse spirit into those who have none, yet it does marvellously augment and polish it in those who have any of their own. I do believe, said she, that such a complete man as is described by one of the wise men of Greece, who is so much spoke of in the world, may be found without any sparks of Love in him; for those men require no more, but that they know how to manage the business well which they have in hand, and that a man know honesty, and courage, and virtue: But such a complete man as I would have, aught to have (besides these things so absolutely necessary) some things in him which are delectable, and complacential, and these are absolutely impossible to be found in a man that nearer was in Love. In sum Madam, call into your memory all the young men whom you have seen enter into the world, and tell me the reason why there is so many of them, whose conversation are Pesantique and gross; you will find the only reason to be, because they want that respective and convenient boldness, and that sprightly and gallant civility which Love only can infuse. Their discourse and actions do not please; and for my part, I like the conversation of those old men, who were sprightly Gallants in their youth, much better than those young Simpliciars, who think more upon the Ribbons which they wear, than the Ladies whom they talk with. 'Tis very true, said the Princess and smiled, I must confess, that I have observed many such as you speak of, but I do not attribute it unto the same cause; for I do think that their want of experience in the world, is the true reason why their discourse and demeanour is not more delectable. To demonstrate unto you, said Doralisa, that it is not so, I beseech you do but observe those who never were in Love, and yet have sufficient experience in the world, you shall find them so rude, and of such a savage spirit, that there is no complacency to be found in them; you shall find that such men are steel-hearted, and men of Blood, whose lives are spent in Wars, or else such hunting dispositions as affect only Forests, or such dumpish pieces of solitariness, as are always cloistered up in their Studies with a company of books, or such as entertain themselves in Grots and Caves in the Country; So that I must ingenuously confess, that it is Love only which completes a man to be such a one as I am in quest of. However, said the Princess unto her, since Love is of such an efficacy as you speak of, do but suffer yourself to be loved, and those men who are not such as you desire, will in time become so. Ah Madam, cried she out, if I do not esteem him whom I am to marry the very first minute that I shall see him, I shall never love him; and therefore I must find him a most accomplished man, and not make him one. Make choice then (said she unto her) of one of those who have completed themselves by loving some other, and has made a retreat, and now loves none. I have already told you Madam, replied Doralisa, that I would have a fresh new Maiden heart, newly kindled with pure and lively flames, and not one of those hardened ones, as have burned whole years together. The truth is, as men use to offer unto a Divinity such offerings only as were never upon the Altar of another; so would I have such an affection as was never dedicated to any but myself: So, since I cannot love any man who has loved one another; and since it is not possible to find out a complete man, vuless he have been in Love, I am resolved, and truly very willingly, to love none at all. This your rule is not so general, replied the Princess, but it will admit of some exceptions; for Perinthus you know is a most accomplished man, yet he never was in Love. Ah Madam, cried she out, it is impossible, Perinthus either is infallibly in Love, or at the least hath been; it is impossible to be as he is, unless he were. The Princess then called me, Is it not truly Pherenice, said she, that Perinthus was never in Love? It is most true Madam, said I unto her, that I never knew he was, nor ever knew him to be suspected by any. Then certainly he is most subtle and wise, replied Doralisa, for let me tell you once again, that Perinthus cannot be what he is, unless he had been in Love. As she was saying so, he entered; So that the Princess beginning the discourse, and being ignorant of that passion which was in his soul, she told him, that she was very glad to see him, because he would help her to convince Doralisa of an error, wherein she persisted: But said the Princess, and addressed herself unto Doralisa, I would have you ask him the question, to the end you shall not think he dare not tell me the truth. I do confess Madam, answered Doralisa, that I am so full of curiosity in the business, as though it be something against the Rules of handsomeness, yet I will immediately obey you; therefore Perinthus, said she, and turned towards him, I pray tell me whether you did not leave one in Classomena whom you wish were at Sardis. Perinthus was so surprised with this question, that he blushed, and knew not how to answer; So that Doralisa turning towards the Princess, Very well Madam, said she, I am much deceived if you be not mistaken, and if the blush of Perinthus do not sufficiently argue that I am in the right. But you do not give Perinthus time to answer, said Panthea, and you will condemn me before you understand him: I pray Perinthus convince Doralisa, that it is possible to find such a complete man as yourself, who neither is, nor ever was in Love; and therefore tell her whether you left any beauty in Clasomena, who think you upon at Sardis. Since I am obliged to answer directly (replied Perinthus after he had a little recollected himself) I do seriously protest unto you without any lie, that since I came to Sardis, I never so much as thought of Clasomena, or any in it: Perhaps the reason is (said Doralisa to the Princess) because Perinthus is in Love with some of your Women, and by consequence left none there to love. Perinthus blushed the second time at the discourse of Doralisa, which the Princess observing, and imagining that the alteration in his countenance proceeded from no other cause, but because he was ashamed to confess he loved not any. Truly Perinthus (said she unto him) you are a strange man, in being ashamed to confess that thing whereof you ought to glory; for I do conceive it Honourable, never to be vanquished. There are some Conquerors so illustrious (replied he very coldly) that a defeat by them may be confessed without any dishonour. But whether are you in Love, or not in Love, said Doralisa, for that is it which we would know? If I be in Love, replied he, you may think it concerns me not to discover it, since none knows it: And if I be not in Love, it concerns me not to acknowledge it also, since it is to be thought (as I collect by the discourse of the Princess) that one cannot be any ways a complete man, unless amorous; and I must not possess you with an opinion which will be to my own disadvantage. However it be (said Doralisa) though you will not explain yourself, yet within a while, I shall find out the truth; for if you be in Clasomena, there your disquiet and melancholy will sufficiently discover you; and if you be at Sardis, than I shall more infallibly find it out. But what if he be not in Love at all, said the Princess, as I do verily believe he is not, than Perinthus wants none of those qualities which you desire to be in a man: Yes, he wants one thing, replied she, and that's as necessary as all the rest, which is, that he love me as well as he can Love. But I conjure you Madam, never move him unto that, since I am most certain he can never love me; and if I were as sure that he is in Love with none else, I should look upon him as an absolute Miracle. As Perinthus was going to reply, a messenger from the Princess Palmis interrupted the conversation, for he came upon a visit, to see how the Princess did, and to know whether she was in such a condition of health as to meet her in the morning at a Hunting which they had appointed some few days since; or whether it was her pleasure to defer that sport until another time. The Princess, who was not very ill, but hoped to be perfectly well the day following, returned this answer, That she was so far from any desires of deferring any delights which she should receive, as that in the morning she would assume the honour to wait upon her at the Chase. Immediately after the Prince Mexaris entered, so that the discourse between Perinthus and Doralisa was put off till the next day. In the mean while, the poor Perinthus was in a pitiful condition, to understand from the Princesses own mouth, that she did not think him to be in Love, and his sorrows were extreme to hear those cruel words pronounced by her whom he only loved, or ever could love, and unto whom he never durst discover his passion; and though he did, as he thought, limit his desires to be only esteemed by the Princess; yet many a minute in a day had he further wishes, which immediately he would stifle: However, since he was fit for any employment, the Princess sent him to see whether the servants of the Prince her Father had prepared all things necessary for this Hunting, and whether the Horse which she was to ride upon was ready, and well conditioned. Perinthus, who was ravished in rendering any service unto the Princess, were it never so trivial, did so punctually obey her, that the next morning the Princess Palmis herself was not better accoutred than she: And really I cannot think, that a more gallant and glorious sight could be seen then this Hunting diversion. All the Ladies were dressed, as they use to picture Diana, unless in that they had a little more care of their Beauties then that Goddess, who despised her own: She had about her head a Chaplet of such lively coloured Feathers, as vied with the Sun for Beauty, and preserved her from its heat, under which she wore a Veil waving at the pleasure of the wind, wherewith she could umbrage her fair face when she pleased: Their horses were all trapped and trimmed with lovely coloured Ribbons in their Mains; each had a rich Scarf, in which hung a Bow and Quiver of Arrows, in one hand they held their Bridles, which were all studded with bosses of Gold, and in the other hand they held light Javelines of Ivory and Ebony all enameled with the richest work of the Goldsmith, their saddle-cloaths were embroidered with Pearl and Jewels: So that a sight more magnificent and fuller of delight could not be seen; for all their dresses being in several colours, and the trim of their horses so also, it made the most beautiful object in the world amongst the woods and Lands of the Park: Every Lady had a Huntsman to conduct her, who always road before her, and two Footmen, on each side one: Each of the Princesses had two Women dressed in the same garb following them; so that the Princess desired Doralisa to be one of hers, and did me the honour to make choice of me amongst all the rest for the other. It was so ordered by the Princess, that Perinthus should be Doralisa's Huntsman, and the Prince Mexaris was hers: The Prince Atis was Huntsman unto a Lady, whose name was Anaxila, with whom he was in Love; and the Prince Artesilas was Huntsman unto the Princess Palmis. But since to tell all the passages of this Hunting, is nothing pertinent unto my discourse, I shall only say thus much, that all the men were no less glorious and magnificent than the Ladies: A world of people came in Chariots to the banks of the Lake of Gyges', where all the equipage of Hunting, and all the horses did rendezvouz and wait: Doralisa and myself were in the Princess Chariot, because we were appointed to wait upon her; and as it was the office of the Prince Mexaris, who was Huntsman unto the Princess, to help her out of her Chariot; so he was very obsequious in it, but he no sooner appeared, than Doralisa observed, that in lieu of a habit made purposely for this jolly recreation, as the Prince Atis, the Prince Myrsil●s, Artesilas, Cleander, and all the rest, even Parinthus had: It was a suit, as I was told, which he wore at a Horse-race, some two years since; So that not being able to hold from laughing, really (said she to me, so loud as the Princess might hear) I see that all which hath been told me concerning the Prince Mexaris is not true: What have they told you (said I unto her) They have confidently told me (replied she) that he was in Love with the Princess, but since he is yet so covetous, I cannot believe him to be in Love. Mexaris was then so near the Chariot, that neither the Princess nor I could say any thing to Doralisa, and truly it was very well we could forbear laughing, not but that Mexaris was of a good port, and well made: But since his gold did look but dim in comparison of that fresh lustre which is upon any thing that is new, it was impossible to hold from laughing at the words of Doralisa. Also some days are so devoted to jollity, that the least thing will incline the mind into a pleasant rallary and mirth. Cleander, who was the only he that day, and who because he could not be Huntsman unto the Princess Palmis, (though he was then her Lover, as afterwards we knew) he would not be one unto any. Colouring the matter with this pretence, that he would give orders unto all the rest; so that he would go sometimes to one, and sometimes to another. This Hunting was in a great Park, which well deserved the name of a little Forest for its large extent: A great common road doth cross through it, otherwise such as would go unto Sardis would be forced to go much about; so that at either end of the Park there are two Gates to let passengers in and out. I will not stay you Madam with a long description of this days Hunting, nor tell you how the Hounds hunted, or the Hart stood, nor how the winding of Horns made a very merry noise; or whether all the Hunters followed close the chase, and a thousand such pleasant passages: For besides my want of expression in fit terms, it is not the mark I aim at. And to tell you truly, the Ladies which were assembled together in that place, I believe came thither as much to show their Beauties, as to run Hearts to death: Hunting is too violent an exercise for them, and therefore they pleased themselves in crossing gently into such places as their Huntsmen imagined in probability the Hart might pass, and that way was easy enough for Ladies. At the beginning the Princesses and their Hunters kept close together, but this glorious Troop did afterwards insensibly separate into several companies, some taking one way, some another; so that without any intendment, the Princess was in the midst of a thick Wood, without any company but the Prince Mexaris, Doralisa, Perinthus his two servants, and myself. But she no sooner perceived it, than we understood by the shrill noise of horns and voices, that the Chase drew near us; and indeed the Hart did pass by so near us, as at that instant we enjoyed the most pleasure: However, as there is nothing more against the mind of him who affects Hunting, than not to follow when he sees the Game running before him, the Prince Mexaris, as much in Love as he was with the Princess, asked leave to follow, and told her he would presently return; so he rid through the thick of the Wood, which tickled Doralisa into a laughing spleen so loud, that she easily imparted her mirth unto Perinthus and myself, so she rid to the Princess: I profess (said this joccand Lady) it must needs be confessed, that though this Prince be not very liberal, yet he is very prudent in taking so handsome an opportunity, to hide his passion to the Princess, and his old Embroidery also, by getting himself so far off us as he doth. Perinthus, who being prompted by some jealous thoughts; was even ravished at the bitterness of Doralisa against him, did handsomely second her: The Princess seemed as if she would not understand us, for being very discreet, she would not be seen to jeer at the Prince Mexaris; but since we perceived she could not choose but smile a little, we could not choose but laugh it on. In the mean time; since the Princess was resolved not to stay for Mexaris in that place, she asked Perinthus which way he thought she might go to meet the Princess Palmis: But since he could not directly tell that, he intended, as he told me afterwards, to carry her as far from Mexaris as he could; and therefore he took a quite contrary way to that which the Chase had taken. As we rid on, and less and less hearing the cry of the dogs, and the voices of the Huntsmen, the Princess turned towards Perinthus, and most sweetly said unto him, That she was very sorry to hinder him from the pleasure of the Chase. Perinthus replied unto this surprising language in such a manner, as let the Princess see, that he thought himself much more happy in being where he was, than at the death of the Hart. Then the Princess calling to Doralisa, Crafty Wench (said she unto her) who knows that the Prince Mexaris is not in Love with me, because he had rather follow the Chase then stay with us: May you not as well say upon the same reason, that since Perinthus does voluntarily stay with us, therefore he is in Love with you? Not at all Madam (answered she) if he be, I will make him confess it presently; and indeed she had opened her mouth to speak unto him: When being come into the great road which crosseth the Park, we discovered upon the left hand five or six Horsemen riding towards us, we thought them at the first to be some of our company which belonged to the Chase, but coming nearer them, we did not know them: He who rid first was a young man extremely handsome, and of an excellent garb, whose suit, though in the Country was very rich, and seemed fresh and new. As soon as Doralisa saw him, she began her Rallary: This stranger (said she to the Princess) whosoever he is, is doubtless more liberal than Mexaris; for since he is so rich and neat in his travel, what would he be at such a meeting as this? His deportment does easily persuade (replied the Princess) that he is one of Heroic virtue, and much takes my opinion of him. However, since the lustre of the Princess Beauty did shine no less in his eyes, than his behaviour was high in hers; and since the dress wherein she was that day did contribute much unto her Beauty, so he seemed to be much surprised, and imagined, that perhaps she might be the Princess of Lydia: Yet since he was not certain, he stood a while unresolved what to do: but at last, fearing to run into an error, in making himself known unto one; whom he knew not who she was; and on the other side, being loath to fail in those respects which were due unto a Princess, whose beauty, air, and habit, spoke to be of a most high Quality: He went out of the way, and stayed to let her pass, and bowed with a most low reverence: As long as she was within reach of his eyes, he stood still and gazed after: The Princess also turned herself to look upon him, but meeting with each others eyes, she looked no longer. As soon as this stranger had lost the sight of her, he rid a few paces towards Sardis. Afterwards, his curiosity to know who this Beauty was increasing; and having observed that we left the great road, and took straight forward, he took such a way as possibly he might meet with us again, and to have the delight of seeing the Princess once more; his project did hit, and better than he looked for. Be pleased to know Madam, that the Princess being come unto a place of the Wood where stood a Fountain, she stayed there, because she found it much cooler than any where else, she had a desire to rest herself there for a while; So that both she and we alighting from our horses, she sat down upon the grass which grew by the side of the Fountain: But she was no sooner set, than she perceived she had lost a Picture which the Princess Palmis had given her, and which was in a Case of Diamonds most rich, yet that was not it which most troubled her; but it grieved her very much that the Princess Palmis might so justly chide her for losing so negligently that thing which she had given her as an especial testimony of her affection; so that exceedingly vexing herself for the loss, she commanded the two servants that waited to tie their Horses unto Trees, and go the same way they came, to try if happily they could find this Picture, not that she had any great hopes of finding it, after so many turnings and windings in a great thick Wood: But since she had a confused kind of memory that she had it when she met this handsome stranger; and since it is the quality of every one that lose any thing to look for it as well in places where it cannot be, as where it is, therefore she sent these two servants unto the place where she met this stranger: Perinthus did envy their employment, and would have gone thither himself, imagining that he could find any thing which the Princess lost better than another, but it was her pleasure to have him stay with her. Mean while, since these two servants had never been in the Park before, they mistook the way, and took another, so that all their labour was in vain; yet they were diligent in search, and that so long, that the Princess dispaired of ever finding it, seeing they returned no sooner: But presently this handsome stranger appeared, who being more fortunate than they, had found this Picture; So that seeking for an occasion to speak unto the Princess, and making no question but this Picture was hers, since he found it in that place where she passed; and addressing himself unto her in a handsome garb, and with much reverence; Madam said he in the Lydian language, and presenting the Picture which she so much lamented, It is my happy fortune to find that which you have lost, and my honour to restore unto your fair hands that thing, which questionless must needs be very valuable in your esteem: The Princess rising up as soon as she saw the stranger address himself towards her, she knew the Case as soon as she saw it, and taking it with much joy; Generous stranger (said she unto him) had not this which you restore been given me by the Princess of Lydia, I should at least have offered you the Case, and received only the Picture: But since I dare not be too liberal of so great a Princess' favours, especially unto a man of that air which your countenance promiseth. I beseech you accept of my thankful acknowledgements, until I meet with an opportunity to serve you in some as important way as this which you restore unto me is acceptable. Madam, answered he, I do think the service in restoring that which you do value, to be a most ample recompense. Whilst the Princess and this stranger were in discourse, Perinthus went unto one of his men, and inquired who he was. The man told him, that he was second Son to the King of Susiana, named Abradates, and Son also unto a Sister of Croessus, who was going into Sardis: So that Perinthus telling the same unto me, I acquainted the Princess in a low voice, during which time, the servant of Abradates inquired who the Princess was, and acquainted his Master, whilst I was informing the Princess concerning him: So that both knowing who each other was, there appeared much joy in both their eyes: Abradates doubled his respects, and the Princess her civilities. I do esteem myself most happy, said he unto her, that one minute of my life hath been spent in the service of so fair a Princess. And truly I think myself very happy, replied she, in being thus obliged all the rest of my life unto so great a Princess, of whom Fame speaks so loud in his commendations. As they were thus in discourse, a great noise of Horses was heard, and immediately after, the Princesses Palmis, Anaxilea, the Prince Atis, Artesilas, Mexaris, Myrsiles, and Cleander appeared, who without any minding of Abradates, alighted from their horses, and began to chide the Princess, for preferring solitude before the Chase, and for not being at the death of the Hart. The Chase which I have had, replied she, and smiled, hath been more happy than yours; and I am confident you will confess it (said she, and presented Abradates unto the Prince Atis, and the Princess Palmis) when you know that I have had the company of the Prince of Susiana, of whom you have heard such Noble reports. At the same time, a servant unto the Prince Atis, who had been at Susa, came to his Master, and confirmed the truth: Then did every one receive Abradates with extreme joy, and afterwards with a thousand welcomes and civilities. I do confess (said the Princess Palmis to Panthea) that your Chase hath been more happy than ours, and that you merit all the honour. The greatest advantage is mine, replied Abradates, since I have been presented unto you by so fair and illustrious a hand. You do not stand in need of any such advantageous helps (replied the Princess Palmis) to render you considerable. For my part, said Panthea, I have stood in need of his help, for without it, I should have sustained a lamentable loss; and then she related the adventure of the Princess of Palmis her Picture. Since the place where they were was very pleasant, they stayed there almost an hour; but afterwards, Cleander told them it was time to go and refresh themselves at a Castle on the furthest end of the Park, close by the Lake of Gyges, over against the Tomb of Alliattes, and so the Princes and Princesses all together went to this Castle, where a magnificent Banquet and admirable Music waited for them: In going thither, Mexaris rid close by Panthea, but he had not the freedom of discourse with her, because the Prince Abradates did also ride close by her: In the mean time, the poor Perinthus followed after all, fretted to the heart, to see how the beauty of Panthea made every one Adorers that looked upon her: Yet as he since told me, he had this poor comfort in his thoughts; that persons of her Quality are seldom married unto such Princes as loves them, or as they love; and therefore his hope was, that if ever any enjoyed her, it would be some Prince, who married her perhaps more out of some reason of State, than any affection. But whilst he was thus entertaining his own thoughts, Doralisa and I observed how Abradates did continually eye Panthea, with extraordinary attention, not only in the way to the Castle, but during all the time of the Banquet and Music; one would have thought that she only of all the company was fair, not that he was at all uncivil, or neglected any respects due unto the Princess of Lydia: But for all that, it was an easy matter to discover by his looks, that the Princess of Clasomena's beauty did penetrate deeper into his heart, than any oothers. Mexaris perceived it as well as we, and Perinthus much more; and I am persuaded that Panthea herself from this very first day did begin to understand the prodigious effects that her Beauty did produce in the heart of Abradates. For be pleased to know Madam, that (as he hath told me since) he was so desperately in Love this very first sight, that his passion would not admit of any augmentation ever since. In the mean time, after all the Ladies had most pleasantly passed away this day, they returned to Sardis in their Chariots; every Prince did ride next them who did most attract their inclinations▪ to wit, Artesilas and Cleander close by the Chariot of the Princess Palmis, the Prince Atis next that of Anaxila, Mexaris, Abradates, and Perinthus, next the Princess of Clasomena. When we were come unto Sardis, all the Princes did lead their Ladies unto the Chamber of the Princess Palmis; after which, the Prince Atis carried Abradates unto the Chamber of Croessus, and presented him unto him, who received him with many testimonies of affection and joy: For since he always loved the Queen of Susiana his Sister very well, from whom he had received a Letter which did intimate the voyage of this Prince, he was much ravished to see him in his Court, and to find him of so fine behaviour and spirit. The Princess his Mother was so careful in instructing him in the Lydian language, that he spoke it so exactly, and without any accent of a stranger, that every one admired him. We understood within a few days after, that Abradates was to stay a long time in this Court, because he stood not upon good terms with the King his Father, for driving on the Interests of the Queen his Mother with too much zeal, against an Elder Brother of his, who though he had not so much virtue as he, yet was to succeed in the Kingdom: So that the King of Susiana having with much injustice threatened to imprison him, the Queen his Mother desired protection from the King of Lydia her Brother for this her Darling Son, who had not lost his Father's favour, but only for the love of her. The cause of Abradates his exile being well accepted of by Croessus, he bade him exceedingly welcome, and after his example, so did all the Court; and truly it was but a just due unto his merit, for certainly a more accomplished. Prince was never seen then the Prince Abradates. Also, when Panthea was returned home from the Hunting to her own lodging, she continually spoke of him all that night, which was not at all pleasant unto Perinthus, who was present when she related all the pleasant adventure unto the Prince her Father. The next morning Abradates performed a ceremonious visit unto the Princess Palmis, where the Princess of Clasomena, and all the Court were present; and the same day towards night he went unto Panthea as soon as he heard she was returned from the King's Palace. Some days passed, before any discovered the affection of Abradates, unless it were Mexaris, Perinthus, Doralisa, and myself: But afterwards it was as apparent as the Sun, for his discourse was all upon her beauty and wit, and he never neglected the least occasion of seeing her. Since the Love of Mexaris was not yet divulged, Abradates gave no check unto his growing passion; and was ignorant how that Prince had any interest in the Princess Panthea; so that clearly submitting himself unto the charms of this admirable beauty, he made no secret of his passion. In the mean while Mexaris, whose Love had took as deep root in his heart, as any thing that was not gold could in the heart of a covetous man, began to publish it, but truly it was after a manner much different from his Rivals, so that it might rightly be said, that never were two Princes more unlike in all things than these two: For Madam, as the state of Abradates his fortunes then stood, it was very like that he would be compelled to live all his life an exile, without any other estate or fortune than his own virtue, nor any subsistence, but either what the Queen his Mother did secretly convey unto him, or what Croessus would please to give him. As for Mexaris, the case was otherwise with him, for he was not inferior in riches unto the King his Brother: And as there was a great disparity in their fortunes, so there was a greater in their dispositions, for Avarice was the rule of all Mexaris his actions, and Liberality was the predominate virtue of Abrada●es: Indeed, I think this Prince was as liberal as valiant, and as valiant as man could be: Mexaris on the contrary was hidebound in all things; if he built any thing, he would always have some sparing trick or other, which wasted and spoiled all the rest of the expenses which he had been at: If at any time he gave any thing, it would be always too late and little, and commonly with a melancholy grudging compliment: His attendance was big enough, but shabbed and ill accoutred: His Table was little, and naught for so great a Prince as he was; and disguizing his covetousness under some weak pretence he commonly wore very mean clothes; saying, It was much folly to purchase any esteem unto ones self by such expenses: If at any time he played at any game, he played for avarice, not recreation; and considering how he would chafe when he lost, it was palpable, that it was rather a Trade then a sport unto him: The truth is, it appeared by all his actions, and sometimes by his very words, that the limits of all the magnificence which was in his narrow heart, extended only to himself, and no further; this base disposition was the reason that none loved him: But on the contrary, Abradates though an exile, was so free and liberal, that all the world adored him, and wished him all the treasures of the other: The manner of his Presents was such, as how small soever they were in themselves, yet they were esteemed as great: He conferred his gifts not only speedily, but with alacrity and joy, and one could not any way more sensibly oblige him, then to accept his favours; his Retinue was magnificent and handsome, his Table was open and good, he always wore rich and good clothes; if at any time he lost at play, it was without turbulence or anger; he sought for accasions to give, as Mexaris shunned them: He carried it so, that he not only the glory of all the good deeds which he really did, but also of those which he did not, but would have done if he had been rich: And certain there had not been any man of parts in a wanting condition in all the Court of Lydia, if Abradates had been as rich as Mexaris. After this Madam, you may easily judge, that Love produced very contrary effects in the souls of these two Princes, their designs also had contrary success, yet did they act alike in all things: For Mexaris was in all things which would put him to no expense, no less obsequious and complaysant then Abradates: And knowing how Panthea affected Doralisa, and esteemed Perinthus, he would comply, and seem to love them also, insomuch as this secret Lover of the Princess was extremely vexed to receive a thousand civilities from his Rivals, which he was obliged to return; yet was it some consolation for him to see, that in all likelihood Panthea would never love Mexaris, by reason of his base disposition, and that she would never marry Abradates by reason of his low fortunes; so that straining himself, he rendered unto both these Princes all due respects, but spoke as little as possible he could: And since he was too wife to speak openly all the ill he thought of Mexaris, and too amorous to commend Abradates, he accorded both as much as he could: So that carrying fair, both with the Princess and both his Rivals, his life was a mixture of sweet and bitter hours. In the mean time, these two Princes as amorous as they were, had neither of them so much confidence as to discover their passions, when Adrastus' Brother unto the King of Phrygia came into this Court, to be purged of that crime which he had innocently committed: The Ceremony of which being performed in the Temple of Jupiter the Expiator, it chanced that Abradates was not well that morning, and could not be there; and coming after Dinner unto the Princess, and finding her alone, she asked him the reason why he was not at the Ceremony? Madam, the reason is, replied he, because I do not much desire to know how it is done, since to tell you truly, if I have committed any crime it is not Jupiter that must pardon me: Yet he is the greatest of the Gods, replied she: Most true, said he, but it is his pleasure to leave it unto other Divinities, of whom he is Supreme, to remit those crimes which are committed against them. For my part, said Panthea, I do not think you have offended any, or that you came unto this Court upon the same reason that Adrastus did: 'Tis very true Madam (replied Abradates) his destiny and mine are different, for he came in a criminal, and I shall go out one: If so, said she you may be justified as he is: Then Madam (said he unto her) it is you who must pardon my boldness, in presuming to love you above all the world. Panthea being extremely surprised at this discourse, though she was not ignorant of his passion, yet she looked upon him and blushed, and being to speak with more severity in her eyes: I know very well, said she unto him, that it is the common custom of the World to take such language as this only as bare civility, and to let it pass as a piece of Gallantry spoken without any further design: But I am persuaded there are some, who perhaps could wish such words twice spoken, because they give no credit to the first: Yet since I have been obliged unto you from the very first minute of our acquaintance, and does infinitely esteem you; therefore I must with all sincerity tell you, that whether you spoke those words in earnest, or in jest, the boldness does much displease me. And let me further tell you, since I would be loath to rank you in the Catalogue of Indifferency, that it will be more advantageous to you, to use such language no more, and not to fail in that respect which is due unto one (I do not say of my Quality) but of that virtue which▪ I profess. Can it be Madam, (replied he) that the less I speak of my passion, the more violent you will believe it? I do not say so (answered she, and smiled, whether she would or no:) But I tell you (said she, and assumed a more serious countenance) that if you speak any more of it, I shall as long as I live think that you do not esteem me, and by consequence I shall be less beholding to you. How Madam (cried he out) is it a testimony of disesteem to tell you, that I adore you? If so Madam I shall say no more. But I beseech you Madam interpret my silence always as it ought to be, and remember as often as you see me alone with you, and speak not a word, that then my heart says you are the fairest upon earth, and that I reverence you with an unparallelled devotion, and shall love you as long as I shall live. As Panthea was ready to answer, Mexaris and Doralisa came into the Chamber, but her looks gave such a sharp answer unto the poor Abradates, that if he could have suffered his Rival to have been alone with Panthea, he would have immediately quitted the Chamber; But having not so much power over himself he stayed, and was pleasing enough in his conversation all the day, much company coming in within a quarter of an hour after. At first the discourse was only of the Ceremony in the morning, unto which the Princess Panthea added not a word, because it had given a subject unto Abradates to discover his Love; but desiring to turn it into something else, she began to talk unto Doralisa upon some affair of matters. But passing insensibly from one discourse into another, every one began to chide Doralisa, for wishing Nature to work a miracle in favour of herself, and make up an accomplished man without the helps of Love, every one asked if she had changed her mind: Since Mexaris had formerly loved another besides the Princess, he began to argue against Doralisa, and maintain his own case; and since Abradates had never been in love, he seconded her reasons, for saying, that she would never accept of any heart that had been scorched n any other flames besides her own. Perinthus gave a listening ear unto what his Rivals said, and endeavoured to guests at the thoughts of the Princess: Tell me Doralisa (said Mexaris to her) What reasons can you give for scorning all complete men, only because they have been in Love with some other before yourself? The number of them is so large (replied she) that I cannot tell which I shall give you first, and truly that is the greatest difficulty of my answer. I cannot believe it so easy a matter (replied Mexaris) to maintain your error with all the wit you have; for what does that which is past concern you, as long as you know it not? By what is passed (replied she) I can judge at the future; for whosoever can quit another for me, give me some cause of fear that he can quit me for another whom yet he knows not, but may perhaps hereafter know her: But have you any better security for the fidelity of that man who never loved any but yourself? (replied Mexaris) Such a one, replied Abradates, did never give so bad an example, and there is greater grounds of hope that his first passion will be constant, then there is to believe that one who has loved many will ever become constant: It cannot be doubted, replied Doralisa: But the worst of it is, I could never meet with a man of my Quality who is such a one as I wish, one that will love me, and never was in Love before: As for such as wear so many several fetters, as suits of clothes, and offer two or three Sacrifices with one and the same Victim, in offering the selfsame heart unto two or three Ladies one immediately after another, I cannot endure them, but should use them scurvily as long as I lived: I may perhaps meet with such complete men as will serve to make friends of, but I'll have none such to be my Lovers, for I can never believe that any who can quit a black Beauty for a fair, or a fair for a brown, can ever have any constancy of heart: Admit (said Mexaris unto her) that one should meet with a heart of flint, which nothing can mollify; were it not wisdom to cure the misery by a discreet retreat; and if such a one do afterwards love another, why should he be taxed with inconstancy, when as he would not have changed, if he had been more favourably entertained? Though I should not tax such a one with inconstancy, replied Doralisa, yet is he such a one as I should never favour, since he is but the refuse of another. Admit her rigour proceeded from a fantastical and extravagant disposition (replied Mexaris) Why would you treat such an unfortunate Lover with rigour? Because such a man as would ever love such fantastical and extravagant Woman as you speak of (replied Doralisa) would never honour me by assuming my Chains. The truth is, whether he loved a mild or severe disposition, whether he have been well or ill treated, whether he did reject, or was rejected: All's one to me, I should never love him that ever loved any besides myself: If he have been severely used, he knows by example how to be severe; if he have been favourably treated, I will think, that since the favours of another could not keep him, mine cannot neither; If he betrayed his Mistress, there is no trusting of him; If it was she who forsook him, it is to be conceived that he has made himself unworthy by some secret crime or other which we know not of, or at least it is to be feared, he was either fantastical or jealous. Moreover, if she whom he loved be fair, there is no security of his loving me, since he hath quitted her, if she be not fair, it is to be thought that he relished her so ill, that he will quit me for one that is fairer: Therefore if ever I permit any to love me, it must be an entire heart, and none of those that has been pierced with a thousand Arrows; it shall be a heart, I say, which is sensible of the least touch, and not one that is hardened with the rigour of another; freshness and newness in love, as in other things, is a grace: And whosoever will ever hope to be acceptable, in my esteem, he must persuade me that I am, and ever shall be, his first and last love. I do profess (said Abradates) that I think the opinion of Doralisa to be very just; and so much the more replied Panthea, because by taking up that resolution, doubtless one resolves never to love any, because it is to desire an impossibility: I must needs concur with you in that opinion, replied Abradates; So do not I (replied Doralisa) For I do not hold it a thing impossible, that one should love but one only in all their life. The great difficulty of all is to find out a complete man, who never loved any but me. The Princess would persuade me Sir (said she, and addressed her speech unto Abradates) that Perinthus was never in Love; and truly though I have much ado to believe it, yet I see that I cannot win much upon his heart, therefore I will give over all thoughts of any Conquests. The Conquest of me (replied Perinthus, a little surprised) would add so little honour unto you Madam, that questionless you are not sorry for it: Really Perinthus, said the Princess, you are too much in good earnest, and Doralisa will persuade me that you are in Love indeed; for if you did not fear that she whom perhaps you love, should know what answer you give unto Doralisa, doubtless you would have returned her a more civil answer. You may think what you please Madam (replied he) but I do not think what I said to be any incivility, but that rather it deserves the name of Respect. There is a kind of respect so hollow and indifferent (replied Doralisa) as does not at all oblige one: But however Perinthus, I am more indulgent than you think I am, for I do not complain against you? yet notwithstanding to find out the cause of that incivility which the Princess doth tax you with, I shall keep an observant eye over you, to the end I may more plainly discover, whether such an accomplished man as you are can be, and not be in Love. And since my own eye cannot be always over you, I will entreat both all your friends and mine to observe you, as well as I will, and to give me an account of your visits, of your addresses, of your words, of your Studies, of your melancholies, and if it be possible of your very dreams. For my part (said the Princess) I will be the first that promiseth to tell you all I know concerning him. You shall when you please Madam, replied he, know all that I myself know: No, no, said she, It is not by any verbal relations, but by a hundred passages which you never think upon, that I will know how to assure Doralisa you love none. Perinthus is very happy (said Mexaris) in that you will honour him so far, as to observe his actions, For my part, I should limit my ambition to aspire no higher than such a favour: What I do for Perinthus, replied the Princess, I would not do unto all the world; for truly I do desire to dive into his heart, because I think there are no secrets in it, or at lest none such as I can have any interest in. Are you more inquisitive Madam (replied Abradates) after such things as does not concern you, then after such as do? Yes, in some things, replied she: But however, in order to the satisfaction of Doralisa (added the Princess, desiring to turn the discourse) I do entreat every one here to aid her in the discovery of that truth which she desires to know, and to observe Perinthus most vigilantly upon all occasions: Truly Madam (replied Perinthus) if there be no passion in my soul, than you put all these illustrious persons unto an unprofitable trouble; and if there be any in my soul, than you expose him who has eternally devoted himself unto your service, to a most severe punishment: However it be Perinthus (replied she) it must be so: Then did she cause every one that was there to promise her in particular, to acquaint Doralisa with all they knew concerning Perinthus: So that Mexaris and Abradates, as well as all the rest, did promise her they would, and so that the poor Perinthus had the misfortune to see his Rivals made his Spies; yet could they not find what they sought after, for their aims were never leveled at that mark, which this unfortunate Lover looked at. Thus Madam was the first day spent, in which Abradates discovered his passion unto the Princess Panthea, who since that day did prevent all opportunities to talk with him in private, not but that she did highly esteem him, and perhaps also had a good inclination to him: But considering the state of his fortunes, she thought him no convenient match, and therefore she would add no fuel to those flames which she saw began to kindle in him, but lived with him after a more reserved manner then ordinary; yet since it was always with much civility, this reservedness was rather a pair of Bellows to blow that fire in his heart, than a means to extinguish it: So that the more reserved Panthea was, the more earnest was Abradates to see her, and follow her in all places; his addresses and Courtships were not only to herself; but unto her Father also, and also to get the love of Perinthus, Doralisa, myself, and all the servants, even of the meanest; and to speak the truth, he obtained his desires; for except Perinthus (who could not love him, because he loved the Princess) all the world was his: Some he gained by presents, others by obliging language, all by a free, open, and lovely aspect, which none could resist. Moreover, since all his own servants did ever adore him, they were continually presenting Eulogies, in commendation of their Master, unto the servants and women of the Princess. On the other side, all the servants of Mexaris were continually complaining of their Master's nigerality, and of the little that was to be gotten in his service, so that nothing was to be heard in Panthea's house but commendums of Abradates, and Satyrs against his Rival. In the mean time, since Mexaris thought the souls of others to be like his own, he conceived that as a means to move the heart of the Princess, and to induce her to receive the first protestations of his Love more favourably, it were first expedient to show her the magnificence of his Treasures; which as I have already told you, were almost equal to the riches of Croessus. Then did he invent how he might get her unto his house under some handsome colour, which might not put him unto overmuch expenses: And after he had well thought upon it, he resolved to invite her to hear the King's Music (which would cost him nothing) in a great vaulted Room, which was very fit for the sound of Instruments; So that the Proposition being made by the Princess Palmis, whom he desired to do him that office, it took effect within a few days after. When Doralisa and I heard that the Prince Mexaris did invite the Princess unto this Music at his own house, than did we believe his Love would break out in good earnest; and that we should see he was not grown unto such an ill habit, but this passion might correct him. Then did we long for this day, with as much impatience, as was in Abradates and Perinthus; for the first of these began now to perceive that his Uncle was his Rival, and the other perceived it from the very first. In the mean time, since the Love of Abradates could not be persuaded by any reason, he prepared himself to suffer the worst that could come: Mexaris for his part, made no question, but the very sight of such a vast Treasure would work as much for him, as against Abradates, when Panthea should see it; so that he longed for the day and hour when this Assembly should be at his house; and he gave such orders, that there should not be one Room in all his house wherein there should not be some signs of the riches and magnificence belonging to the late King of Lydia his Father, who since Mexaris was his Darling, gave him half of all his Treasures: Nothing could be imagined more magnificent and sumptuous, than all this that was showed unto the Princess in this house; for not only all the ground Rooms, all the Chambers and Galleries, were most richly furnished, but also there was one Gallery, and three Closets, full of most rare, rich, and precious things, not only Statues and Pictures, but abundance of prodigious Cabinets, Vessels of gold and silver set with precious stones of an inestimable value. There was also great figures of gold, and Dishes of Agath, and Oriental Alabaster enriched with Diamonds: It may rightly be said, that all the chief works of the Sun and Nature were to be seen in that place; Pearls, Emeralds, Diamonds, Rubies, and all manner of precious stones. After a sight of all these, Mexaris let the Princess Panthea see one admirable thing then all these; and the principal reason why he showed it unto her, I believe was, because it should give him an occasion to speak of his Love. I make no question Madam but you have heard tell of that famous Ring of Gyges, who, as you know very well, did usurp the Crown from Heraclides, and who was the first King of Lydia of the Race of Croessus: You are not ignorant, I say, how it was by means of this Ring that he got upon the Throne, and afterwards, by the miraculous virtue thereof, he made himself invisible unto the King Candalus, whose life he took away. Alliatte loving Mexaris better than he did Croessus, amongst the rest of his Treasuries did leave him this. After this Prince had showed all these unto the Princess Panthea, he called her unto a Table of pure Gold set with Stones, upon which stood a little Cabinet of Agatte, he took out this rare Ring. Madam, said he unto her, after an offer of all these things which I have showed you, in offering you the heart of him that owns them, I dare not put this Ring into your hands, lest as a punishment for my boldness, you should deprive of her sight who is the fairest upon earth; therefore it is requisite you see the experiment of it by the means of some other. Though the Princess had often heard of the wonderful Quality of this Jewel, yet she was much taken with it; when Mexaris called one of his servants who knew how to hold it, and caused him to show its virtue: She observed, that when he turned the Stone towards himself, he absolutely vanished out of the sight of all the company; so that without any answer unto the Princess Mexaris but this, that it was impossible this could be without Enchantment. All the company were no less amazed at it then herself; and to say truly, the thing is so full of wonder, that though one had seen it before an hundred times, yet one shall be still admiring at it; for as long as any one held this Stone, which is called the Heliotropus, and is found in Ethiopia, one shall be absolutely invisible.  
Is it possible said the Princess Araminta, and interrupted her, that it should have such a Quality as you speak of? It is most certainly, true Madam, replied Pherenice: For my part, said Cyrus, I have long since inquired of several persons, whether there was any truth in those reports of the virtue in the Heliotropus; and if I may speak it without any incivility unto Pherenice, though a hundred several persons have assured me that it is very true, yet I must confess I had much ado to believe it; though when one considers the marvellous quality of the Adamant which attracts steel with so much violence, that it seems to assume life, and follows it, it must be confessed nothing is more to be admired: So the sight, being of all the senses most easy to be deluded, it is not impossible, but that there may come out of this Stone a certain kind of brightness which may dazzle the eyes of beholders, or which may beget a kind of Mist that may cloud the person which carries it from the eyes of those that are standers by. Moreover, there is another Stone called the Amianthus, which every one knows, upon which the fire makes no impression, nor can consume; this if well considered, is no less admirable than the Heliotropus: The brightness of a Stone may as well take away the sight, or at least suspend the use of it, as the Basilisk can kill with a look. Araminta being convinced by the discourse of Cyrus, concurred with him in opinion, and Pherenice proceeded in her story.  
When every one had admired this miracle of Nature, the cause whereof was so secret a mystery, the Princess Panthea would needs take this Ring, though Mexaris was exceeding against it, telling her he could not endure she should be invisible to him, who of all men in the world took greatest delight in seeing her, yet he could not prevent it, but must be contented. After this Ring had wrought its effect in her hands, Doralisa took it, and when she had it, she went and told the Princess, she desired that Mexaris might always wear it. For my part (answered Panthea in a low voice) I would not wish that for your sake, for than he might often understand all the ill you use to say of him. In the mean time, Mexaris imagined it to be a short minute of pleasure to take away the sight of his Rival from Panthea, and therefore told Doralisa, that perhaps Abradates would be glad to make the experiment upon himself as well as she: Then this Prince taking the Ring, and going to the Princess, he told her in so low a voice as none could hear; that if Mexaris did not make use of this very often in coming to tell her of his passion, he was as simple as covetous. As the Princess could not choose but laugh at what Abradates told her, Mexaris knew thereby, that this invisible man made use of his Ring otherwise then he wished: So that being vexed that his design took no better effect, he could not hold from venting some expressing of displeasure. But Abradates was so pleased with vexing his Rival, and since Panthea began to laugh, he told her many other things very low, which made her laugh so heartily at the chafing of Mexaris, that she could return him no answers; yet notwithstanding she excused the matter, and said it was impossible not to laugh when she heard one close by her, and could not see him. But at length, fearing lest this Rallary should produce some sad consequence, she desired Abradates to restore her the Ring, which he did; after which, she gave it to Perinthus, and Perinthus to another, so that there was not one in all the company which had not the experiment: But at last they restored it unto Mexaris, who locked it up very carefully: After which the Music began, which was seconded with a short collation, suitable to the avarice of him that gave it, and very unworthy of the company to whom it was presented, yet was it served up in twenty four Basins which were the godliest in the world, but his slovenly servants were so thrifty for their Master, that the least Basin was worth a hundred of such collations. I leave you to imagine Madam, whether this was not sport unto Abradates, Perinthus, and Doralisa. Methinks (said Doralisa to me) Mexaris should not have left off his Ring till after this Banquet, but by it have concealed his shame to see it so poor. His best course had been, said Perinthus, to have made it and himself both invisible: The Princess did easily guess what we talked on, when she turned towards us, and much feared least Mexaris should perceive it; so that to prevent exceptions, she did fall to a very bad repast out of her complaysance, and told him confidently, that it was an admirable good one: One might easily see, he hardly believed her, and yet he thought it good enough, because it cost him but a little; and thus the rest of the day passed on. Mexaris making no question, but that after a sight of so much wealth and fine things, he should find Panthea very gracious unto him, the first time he spoke of his passion unto her. In the mean while, Abradates did emulate his Rival, for having the start of him in entertaining Panthea, and began to think which way he might obtain the like happiness. For the furtherance of his intention, he found out that there was a great number of Phrygian Musicians then in Sardis, and you know the Lydian and Phrygian Music is conceived to be the rarest, not only of all Asia, but all the world, yet those who had heard them both were of various opinions, according unto the conformity of their several humours to those various harmonies: Those who were of melancholy inclinations, or had passionate souls, preferred the Lydians; and those whose temper were more sprightly, and pleasant, gave the prize unto the Phrygian; But all sides did agree, that both did merit much commendations. Abradates then making use of this controversy to bring about his design, did so foment the contest, that the next day after the entertainment of Mexaris nothing else was discoursed upon at the Princess of Clasomena's lodging, who without declaring herself either for the one or the other, only said, That before any exact judgement could be given, it were requisite to hear them both on the same day, with a premeditated intention to observe them very well; and that those who were competent Judges in such matters should have knowledge in the art of Music, and be impartial persons. It were requisite also, said Abradates, that to put the Musicians equally into a good humour, a prize should be propounded unto that side which should excel, to the end they might both of them strive to do their best. After this, it was thought upon, in what place was the most convenient to hear them; and one of the King's houses, which was about thirty furlongs from the Town, was named most convenient. Now since all the company did think this only a Proposition, which would never be put in execution, each one began to order the business, only to drive on discourse. In the mean while Abradates, who had not so lamely contrived the business as to leave it imperfect, did say, that the greatest defect would be the want of a fit person to be a Judg. I do conceive (said Mexaris, who was then with the Princess) that there is no great difficulty in that, but where will you find one that will give the prize unto those who are judged best, and be at the charges of the Feast? When the person who is fit to be a Judge is named, (replied Abradates, and smiled) it will be no great piece of difficulty to find the other; for I think it a much more easy matter to find Gold and Jewels, then to find one that is accomplished with all requisite qualities to pronounce Judgement equally in such a Nice, and rare business as this. Yet Madam, (said he, and looked upon the Princess) if you will be pleased to take the pains I am most certain it would then be done without injustice, for you both know Music, and love it, and most undoubtedly would be equitable. Mexaris did approve of this Proposition, and so likewise did every one, saying, that Abradates spoke all reason. The Princess did deny to take it upon her very resolutely, and would have persisted in that denial, if the Princess Palmis had not came in, who hearing of her refusal, did extremely condemn her modesty, and told her, that if she herself did understand Music as well as she did, she would not deny the desire. In conclusion Madam she consented, and it was a thing resolved upon, that three days hence they should go unto the Castle which I told you of before, and that he who made the Proposition, should provide the Music, not imagining there would be any other provision. In the mean time Madam, this generous minded Lover, who was composed of Liberality, did not carry it like unto Mexaris; for never was Feast more magnificent and gallant. To have a little more time for preparation, Abradates procured the Musicians to ask five days more to be added to the other three, that they might better consort their Music: So that as if it was no motion proceeding from Abradates, it was deferred until then, at which time every one resorted to the place appointed. I will not give you Madam a Catalogue of all that were there, only say that the whole Court was present; nor will I make any exact description of the magnificence, for the truth is, it was such that I cannot. Let me tell you the entertainment was most admirable, both for the neatness of the order, and the abundance of every thing rare and delicate that the place and season did afford: He also prepared a great number of Golden Medals for the Princess, on which her Picture was engraved with a facetious devise, that she might give them unto those Musicians whom she thought most worthy. Moreover, as Presents for the Ladies, he had provided abundance of several sorts of most curious and delightful Toys, as Perfumes, Sweet Waters, Essences, Powders, and such like, which she was to present unto those who kept silence during the Music, or unto those who most commended the Musicians, or unto whom she pleased; and so under several pretences of Gallantry and Wit, there was not a Lady, nor any of any Quality, which carried not away some ingenuous remembrance of the Feast. The Princess herself, as well as the rest, did participate of Abradates his Liberality: And the Musicians, in favour of whom Panthea did not declare herself, also received very bountiful Presents. The Princess knowing it, did ask him what difference there was between the Conquerors and the conquered: But his answer was, that the Gold which carried her Image, and passed through her fair hands, was of a far higher rate than that which passed only through his, and which had not the representation of her Beauty: And truly Madam, it is so great a misfortune to want your judicious approbation, that those who had not the honours to obtain it, did stand in need of some Cordials to comfort them. All this while Mexaris was desperate to see himself outdone by the magnificence of Abradates, and to hear all the Ladies commend him. Perinthus also at the root of his heart was no less troubled; for having bounded his desires that Panthea would love no body, he was exceedingly grieved to see Abradates so amiable, Courtly and indulgent to move affection: So that for all his forceing of himself, he was so very melancholy all that day, as Doralisa took notice of him, and caused the Princess to observe him also, who beginning to chide him, did put him to the necessity of an answer for himself: And to colour the matter, he told her, that Music ever used to have that operation in him, and he could give her no other reason. For my part, said Doralisa, this seems to me a certain sign that you are not the same you seem to be, for men of hard and flinty souls are never sensible of Music; but without all question you either are in Love, or have been, since Harmony has such a power upon your Spirits, that it makes you melancholy. It may be the reason is, said the Princess, because Perinthus is so far from loving, that he hates the Music, and is weary of waiting upon it so long. Oh Madam (cried he out) I had rather Doralisa should think me such a man as she looks for, and that they should suspect me to be in Love, then to think I am so stupid, as not to love Music: And since Madam you do love it, and think I hate it, I am afraid you entertain an ill opinion of me: Not at all, replied she, for do you not meet with many very rational men, who neither love it, or can endure to hear it: 'Tis true, replied Perinthus, But certainly such men in my apprehension are men of dull sordid souls, and it ought to be blamed as a great fault. Do you think it a greater fault (said the Prince Atis, who was present at this entertainment) to have ears, and not love Music, then to have eyes, and not love Beauty, as you have? Perinthus blushed at this question, and had been extremely puzzled for an answer, if Doralisa, as good luck was, had not said, No, no, Sir, Do not deceive yourself, I cannot believe Perinthus to be insensible, I did never in my life see such a man as he that was so; certainly he does love, let him say or do what he will. For my part (said Abradates, to show his obedience unto the Princess in observing Perinthus) I begin to be of Doralisa's opinion, for I have seen him all this day so reserved and retired, that I do not think any passion except Love can so much alter his humour. Mexaris added, that he had seen him pronounce some words in a low voice to himself alone: Another said, he would often fix his eyes, and muse without regard unto any passage. And indeed there was not one in all the company which had not something or other true or false to bring in against him, which moved every one to think him in Love, and his Rivals employed all their wits to persuade the Princess of it; yet was all this so far from being any addition of happiness, that on the contrary it procured him much misery, insomuch as he hath told me since, that he was amazed he did not discover some evident symptoms of that passion which possessed his soul: Yet notwithstanding all this, he did cunningly disguise it, and thus was the rest of this day spent. But at our return to Sardis, these three Adorers of Panthea had thoughts much differing one from another: For Abradates was much joyed that the Princess seemed to be pleased with his entertainment: Mexaris was vexed to the heart at the liberality of Abradates, and it grieved his soul that he had come off in his Courtships better than himself: But as for the poor Perinthus his sorrows were unconceivable, to see Abradates so complete a Gallant; yet he would sometimes comfort himself, in hopes that the state of his Fortunes would keep the Prince of Clasomena from bestowing his Daughter upon him. But alas, said he unto himself, the Princess may for all that bestow her heart upon him; yet (would he say) since her heart must never be mine, and since I shall never dare to ask it, what does it concern me, if Abradates have it? Is it not my duty to wish Panthea happy in every thing? And ought I not to desire, that if ever she marry, it may be unto such a Prince as loves her, and she can love? Yes doubtless I ought, if I do consider myself as a servant unto the Prince her Father, who infinitely honours me: But if I consider myself as Perinthus, who hath loved her from my Cradle, and shall do to my Coffin, I cannot choose but wish that she would never love any; therefore what should I do but oppose Abradates in all his designs, and favour all the projects of Mexaris, whom I know she can never Love: I will employ all the credit that I have with the Prince her Father to that end, and I will omit nothing that may supplant my Rival that is most dangerous out of the heart of Panthea. But do I know well what I say? (would he suggest to himself) No, no, I do not; There is such variety of differing apprehensions in my soul, that I cannot distinguish between the suggestions of my passion, and the counsels of my reason: Alas (would he say, for he hath since told me every tittle of his thoughts) can I think that I have any reason at all? ay, who cannot banish from my heart the most rash and stubborn passion that ever was? but who hath been so far from opposing it, that I have cherished it as much as possibly I could? and yet all this without the least hope, or knowing at what mark I aimed. I ever knew, that I was not loved, and I confess my hopes were, that none else ever should be, but I see Abradates so lovely, that I am afraid he will be loved again, and that I must die with despair. These Madam were the thoughts of Panthea's three Lovers, who for her part did think much upon Abradates; for besides her own inclination, both Doralisa and myself did nothing else for three days together, but harp upon the liberality of Abradates, and the avarice of Mexaris: For my part (said Doralisa unto the Princess, one afternoon when none was with her) I am confident that if this Prince were not in Love, he would not be so liberal: But for all that (said I unto her) as much as you attribute unto Love, it must be confessed, that this passion does not produce such good effects in the Prince Mexaris; and by consequence it must be concluded, that Love does not create all virtues in men: 'Tis true, said Doralisa, yet I conceive that Love does in the hearts of men, as the Sun doth in all places where it shines, for the Sun does not plant Roses, but it ripens and blows them; So Love, it does not give the first root and inclinations of virtues, but it makes them grow and flourish; and questionless if Mexaris were not in Love, he would yet be more covetous than he is, he is grown to that height, replied the Princess, that if I should judge of his Love by his liberality, I should not think it very great; yet if the trouble in doing things do set a greater prize upon them, replied Doralisa, and laughed, you are much more obliged unto Mexaris then Abradates; for certainly that little which he hath done for you, hath stuck more upon his stomach, than all that his Rival hath done, did upon his: There is no doubt of it; replied the Princess, but his trouble proceeds from the baseness of his soul: For all that, I conceive it easy to maintain (said Doralisa, who infinitely esteemed Abradates) that he who gives a little trifle against the hair of his disposition, doth more oblige, than he who gives much, and in that gift doth follow his own inclination: You are very witty Doralisa (replied the Princess) but yet it is no such easy matter to defend the humours of a covetous man; and if there were any to judge the matter betwixt us, I dare undertake to maintain against you, that avarice is so far from setting any value upon any act whatsoever it be, that it entirely takes away all that such a one hath done, who is possessed with that base passion. If you will be pleased to admit of Perinthus for a Judge (said Doralisa, when she saw him come into the Chamber) I dare undertake the controversy, and once in my life dispute against you: I am contented, replied Panthea, upon condition Perinthus will without any impartial complacence speak his thoughts. That will be something difficult, (replied Perinthus, not yet knowing what they desired, because he understood only their last words) but after Doralisa had acquainted him with the subject of their contest, he apprehended that the liberality of Abradates, and the avarice of Mexaris, had caused the dispute, so that he did refuse to be Judge in a difference, wherein himself had a hidden interest, though he durst not reveal it; yet notwithstanding, the Princess did require and exact obedience from him, and he was forced to promise that he would judge the matter without any partiality or complacency; and certainly he was as good as his word, as hereafter you shall know. After these conditions, the Princess told Doralisa, that it was her part to declare her reasons first; That I shall very easily, replied she, I shall only allege some of the strongest Arguments, unto which you may reply, and interrupt me when you please, for I think it a good help unto one that cannot speak very readily, to be often interrupted. Although there is no need of such helps, replied Perinthus, yet you may chance to have interruption enough, for methinks I see the Prince Mexaris coming, and if I be not deceived, Abradates also, and indeed they entered one after another presently after. Though the Princess made signs unto Doralisa to turn the discourse another way, yet this crafty Lady seeming to misunderstand her, continued on: So that Mexaris and Abradates were no sooner entered, but Doralisa in her usual jocandry began to complain, that they had hindered her of the glory in overcoming the Princess, and I wonder Perinthus does not murmur, because you have deprived him of the greatest honour he ever had in his life. I was so unworthy of it; replied he, and should have so ill discharged the office, that I am not sorry it is taken from me. As great an inclination as I have to advance your glory (replied Abradates, unto whom Doralisa addressed her speech) I must confess I am not sorry that I have hindered you from overcoming the Princess, who in my opinion deserves always to conquer; yet I must withal acknowledge myself very sorry that I have taken any advantage from Perinthus, therefore I beseech you acquaint us with the business: For my particular, said Mexaris, my desires do second Abradates, to the end that knowing the injury I have done, I may endeavour a remedy. Since the Princess imagined that Doralisa would out with all, she thought it better to make no secret of it; so that telling them the matter in controversy, but not the cause upon which it did first arise, both Princes did say, they should have been extremely sorry, if they had interrupted such pleasing discourse; though Mexaris expressed himself in a much more forced manner than Abradates did; and though he did not think himself to be a covetous man, yet I believe he knew he was far from prodigal. In the mean while Perinthus, who had so many secret resentments in his mind, that he was sorry he was very present, did use the best endeavours to prevent the giving his opinion upon so nice a matter: But Doralisa, seeing the Princess permitted her to speak, began thus to argue: Must it not be confessed Madam (said she unto her) that when our friends do no more for us, than what they do every day out of common course, we cannot count it the greatest service they can do us; and on the contrary, when we move them to do such things for us as go against the grain of their dispositions, we are more obliged unto them for doing things against their wills, then for doing things which is a pleasure to them in doing. This being thus, it must needs be confessed, that a covetous man who gives little, does more oblige one, than a liberal man who gives much, since the one hath much grief, the other much pleasure in giving. Truly Doralisa, said the Princess, since you allowed me to interrupt you, I cannot forbear; for I cannot allow, that because my friend is guilty of a most abominable vice, therefore I should be at all obliged unto him for that little which he bestows more than unto him who is owner of an Heroic virtue: No, no, Doralisa, do not deceive yourself, for there is no Justice or equity in it. Yet Madam (replied Doralisa) is there no recompense due unto this poor covetous man, for all the pain he puts himself unto in bestowing his little: I do not say, that he who gives against his mind deserves more commendations than the other; I am not so far out of my wits, but I do affirm, that he who loves that which he gives, and grieves for the parting from it, and cannot give it, unless it grate his heart, such a one, I say, does give greater testimony of his affection, than he who out of his generosity only can bestow great presents upon his very enemies: I do concur with you, said the Princess, that what you allege, may upon some certain occasions hold true, and that it is not impossible to find some covetous man, who in giving little, may love better than another that gives much; but though I grant this, yet I must maintain, that he who gives with a grudge, does take away all the heart of his Present, and deserves no thanks: I know very well Madam (said crafty Doralisa) that in cases of Love, he who has not a heart to give all he possesseth, does Love but imperfectly; but in case of ordinary friends, it is but just to thank a covetous person, for the trouble be puts himself unto in being at any expenses for us: No, no, replied the Princess, never separate Love and friendship in this case, for he who is a miserable Lover, will never make a liberal friend. Then Mexaris not being able to contain any longer, I pray tell me, said he, if it be a fault in a Lover not to be liberal, is it commendable in a Lady to love gifts: By no means, replied the Princess, I equally condemn them both, yet of the two, the Lady more than the Lover: I am of the Princess mind in that, replied Doralisa: However (said Abradates) He who is a Lover, must have a soul able to bestow all: If so (replied Mexaris) what difference between it and prodigality? The difference is in this (replied Abradates) that the Prodigal does give without either choice or judgement, which he who gives all unto her whom he thinks worthy of his affection, doth not; for he who gives his heart, may easily give all the rest which is not so precious. This is not our question, said Doralisa, my Argument in favour of this poor covetous man is this, that his sufferings when he gives any things, supplies the smallness of his gift: Though I should grant this, replied the Princess Panthea, and acknowledge, that some acknowledgement were due unto such a one for all the pain which he endures, yet I could not choose but at the same time have an extreme aversion towards him: How is it possible Madam, replied Doralisa, that gratitude and aversion should be in the same heart at the same time? It is not at all impossible, answered Panthea, for one may acknowledge a benefit, and scorn the benefactor. These two are so conjunct, replied she, that I do not understand how they can be separated: However it is not just, that he who loves his treasures above his life, should bestow them upon an ungrateful person: It would be as unjust in me, to be friendly unto him that shall in his heart such things as are unworthy of passionate Love before me; and to speak rationally, all those sufferings and troubles which you mention in a covetous man, are strong inducements and reasons not to value his gifts; but on the other side, to consider them as some bargain or exchange which he expects I should return in lieu thereof, and look upon him as a man that has secret ends, and would not give but to receive again: I beseech you Madam, said Doralisa, do not dive too deep into the heart of a covetous man, for there is nothing to be found that is good: But grant me only this, that his regret in giving, is a stronger argument of his Love and affection, than the freeness and facility of a liberal man can be in him. I can by no means grant so far, replied the Princess, for I am fully persuaded that a covetous man loves nothing but his coin and riches, and therefore I can never be obliged unto him: Pronounce judgement then (said Doralisa to Perinthus) for I am so weary of maintaining a bad cause, that I had rather lose it, then precious time in giving bad reasons for it: Since by your own words it appears you are of the same opinion with the Princess (answered Perinthus) there needs no judgement to be given: However pronounce it, replied Panthea, for I had rather get the better of the cause by the equity of my Judge, than the weakness of my Adversary: Since you command it (said Perinthus in favour of Mexaris) I shall condemn you both: Doralisa for defending a good cause so ill, and you Madam, because you would have a man who does all he can, lose the merit of that little which he gives, and which cost him more than that which the liberal bestows: I pronounce then, that sometimes one may put a favourable construction upon the great affection that may be in a little gift; and sometimes it is not requisite to proportion gratitude according to the richness of the gift, since, if he from whom we receive it, did confer it only for his own glory, we are not so much obliged unto him, as unto one who does not give but only for the Love of us, and who contends and strives with himself to pleasure us. Indeed Perinthus (said the Princess, after he had done speaking) I did not think you would have given sentence against me: If I had received your commands (replied he) to lay aside all partiality and complacence, I had not then done so, but should have pronounced as you pleased: Rather say (replied she) that it argues more ability and wit to maintain a bad cause, and in taking an ill side then a good one. However, since I am persuaded you do not think as you say, I will pardon you. Pray Madam, said Mexaris, are you as great a hater of prodigality as avarice? I know very well, answered she, that the one is a vice as well as the other; but I must ingenuously confess, that I am not so averse to a prodigal man as to a covetous; and the same temper which prompts one to give, and to esteem those which give, does prompt one to hate to be a receiver. All this argues, said Drralisa, that it is most convenient for a covetous Lover to have a liberal Mistress. I am confident, replied Mexaris, that though it be better being the Mistress of a Prodigal than a miserable man, yet it is better being the wife of a miserable than a prodigal man: And I am confident (replied Abradates) that a profuse prodigal in the very conclusion of his Riot, is not so poor as a covetous rich wretch; for to what end does he hoard up all his Treasures, when as he dares not so much as touch them? It is ample satisfaction, replied Mexaris, to know that he possesseth them; or rather (replied Doralisa, that they possess him. I perceive (replied Mexaris, having a desire to divert this discourse) that if this complete Gallant which Doralisa looks for be not liberal, though he never was in Love, yet he shall never move her heart: There is no question of it (replied she) for certainly that virtue is rarely found in one of those that never were in Love; but Love infuseth more liberality in one quarter of an hour, than all the study of Philosophy can in ten years. I do not wonder (said Abradates) that you who have an opinion that Love inspires all virtues, should think the same which you speak: But I would entreat you to tell me, why there are so many rare accomplished Ladies who never were in Love, and why it is more requisite for men to be accomplished? The reason is Sir, replied she, because their cares to please doth refine and polish the wits of men, and this care does not suit with the Sex of Ladies, whom Nature hath made amiable without other helps. If there want nothing to make up a complete man (replied this Prince) but to endeavour to please, I know one that would be more exact than ever any was. Abradates, in saying so, looked upon Panthea, who meeting her eyes with his, could not choose but blush, and did thereby let him know, that she applied his words unto the same end that he desired. The alteration in her countenance was not only observed by Abradates, but by Mexaris, and Perinthus: The first of these was red with anger, the other pale with sorrow; and this trivial passage of almost no consideration, did so take up the minds of these four persons, that the conversation was quite spoiled. Panthea was vexed to the soul that she should blush, because she saw Abradates observed it: This Prince made a construction of this blush in favour to himself. Mexaris on the other side did interpret it unto his advantage: Perinthus without any question how to expound the meaning of it, did so certainly conclude, that Panthea had an inclination towards Abradates, that he became more miserable than he was before: For though redness be sometimes a sign of anger as well as Love, yet the eyes of a Lover are too subtle to be deceived: Also Perinthus did so narrowly observe how the redness of Panthea did only adorn her, and not ruffle her countenance as an effect of choler; for there is a great difference between such a redness, and that which proceeds only from modesty, or else from such a kind of weakness as I dare not name, since those who are capable of it, do not call it so. In the mean time the company parted, every one carried that evil which tormented him in his own heart, only Doralisa excepted, whose pleasant humours would not suffer her to forge Mountain miseries out of molehill matters; and therefore she went as merry home, as Mexaris and Perinthus did melancholy; yet Mexaris did verily believe, that if he would demand Panthea in Marriage from the Prince of Clasomena, he should easily obtain her; but he believed that Croessus out of some politic reasons of State did not desire the match, fearing lest the principality of Clasomena being in the hands of the richest Prince in all Lydia, should after his death raise Civil War; so that Mexaris apprehended this as some obstacle, and therefore would not publish his design, until he had brought it so forward, that he might execute it, whether Croessus would or no. And in order to this, there was a necessity of gaining the heart of Panthea, and the consent of the Prince her Father, that he might have a place of retreat when need should be, and therefore he courted all occasions to obtain it. Abradates, who knew that Croessus would never consent Mexaris should marry Panthea, drew from thence some hopes for himself, though he feared the Prince of Clasomena would not be against it; but his fears were higher, lest Panthea should be gracious to him: He knew by a hundred circumstances, that she esteemed him more than she did Mexaris; but yet he found so much reservedness in her humour, and such severity in her carriage towards him, since that day he discovered his passion unto her, that he was a tormented Lover, though less than Perinthus, who which way soever he looked, saw nothing but misfortunes, and sad thoughts had so dulled his soul, that he became extremely melancholy, and so deeply, that Doralisa by a hundred circumstances which would too long to relate, knew that he was in Love; and being ravished with joy, that she was now able to maintain there never was a complete man known, and not amorous, that she did not only tell the Princess, but all the world, and indeed so far, that it was grown to a general belief Perinthus was in Love, but the difficulty was to know with whom. The Princess thought it to be with some Beauty in Clasomena, and that the melancholy which hung so heavy upon his soul, had no other cause but absence. But Doralisa, who for her sport had observed him most narrowly, she affirmed it was not at Clasomena, and that she was certain of it: For the Prince of Clasomena desired to employ him upon some business of consequence thither; and we know that he was very earnest to beg excuse, and was importunate until he obtained it; so that this is an undeniable argument his Love leans towards Sardis. The greatest matter of wonder to the Princess was, that he could never be discovered to make any applications of Courtship unto any one: 'Tis true, he saw Doralisa very often; but though he did much respect her, yet she never saw any signs of passion. However Perinthus lost the opinion of insensibility, though there was not any who could suspect the true cause of his Love. About this time, the Prince Atis married Anaxilea, with whom I think I told you he was in Love; so that the Court was full of Feasts, and all manner of delights and Gallantry; yet notwithstanding, though Mexaris received the knowledge from the mouth of the Princess whom he loved, that she had a strong aversion towards all covetous men, yet was he not one jot the more magnificent; yet something he had which was a little more than ordinary, but it was so very little, that it was hardly seen. The Prince Atis, Artesilas, Adrastus, Cleander, and Abradates, did all of them in gallant emulation 'vise who should excel in bravery: But Mexaris was very willing to be excelled in point of magnificence, and always submitted to the lowest of his Rivals in matters of charge: For if he any time did keep the Ball, the company expected dirty rooms; cold collations, and mean Music; for since the liberality of him that was to pay them, did not incite them, their Harmony was so negligent, that time in Dances could hardly be kept at his house. On the other side, when Abradates gave any entertainment to the Court, or rather to the Princess Panthea, the very same Music which marred Dancing at the house of Mexaris, played with life, and admirable cadency at the house of Abradates; a Spritely Harmony did inspire the heart when he kept the Ball: The Ladies seemed more fair, as well because they were always more curious and gay in their dresses, as because the room was more lightsome and neat, and indeed every thing was ordered incomparably better at his house, then at the house of Mexaris, or any where else; for Abradates had an Air and a Genius so fit for all the Ceremonies and honours of an Assembly, that his very presence only did inspire with joy and delight. You may easily conceive Madam, that the Princess being of such an excellent Spirit and ingenuity, could not possibly deny her esteem unto Abradates; and in all places where he had the freedom of discourse with her, though but a moment, though she shunned it, yet was he prudent enough to hit upon convenient opportunities in expressing some marks of his affection, without any failing in those respects which were due. Besides the Hunting whereof we spoke before, and besides the Music entertainment, and besides several Balls which he kept: He had one more, and it was Races with Chariots, which was one of the most magnificent sports in the world, and the most delighting to behold. For be pleased to imagine, that you saw in a Front before you, a hundred little Chariots of Triumph glistering like the Rays of the Sun; imagine these Chariots drawn by the finest horses eye ere beheld, and in every one of them a man most gloriously habited, who in one hand holds the Reins of the horses, which were made of tissue of gold, and in the other hand a long Javeline adorned with many precious Stones, who exasperating the Horses by the courage of his voice, they make the Air echo as loud as a thousand Instruments of War: At the end of the Race were Scaffolds erected unto stately Tents for the Ladies, and where the Garland of Victory is given unto those that triumph by the hands of her who is chosen to bestow it, by him who makes the entertainment: This Madam is the manner of Chariot Races at Sardis. One day there chanced an accident which was very pleasant unto all the company, for on that day Abradates and Cleander did both of them equally win the Garland: And the Chariot of poor Mexaris, which doubtless was only an old one newly burnished up, chanced to break in the middle of the Race. This chance made miserable Perinthus more melancholy, who since he was not one of them that did run, he did stand in the Scaffold of the Princess, and observed her joy at the disgrace of Mexaris, and at the victory of Abradates; so that now he made no question but this Prince had some share in her heart, and so that in the midst of all this public joy, Perinthus was most sadly melancholy: Not long after all these universal joys were turned into sorrows for the fatal death of the Prince Atis, which grieved all the Court, especially Abradates; for he did not only lament the loss of a Prince who had most excellent qualities, and from whom he expected his protection; but also by his death, he looked upon Mexaris as one step nearer the Throne, which by consequence might reflect upon the heart of Panthea, and become a great obstacle to his design, not but that the Prince Antaleon was yet alive; yet for all that, he esteemed it a great advantage unto his Rival to be a step nearer a Crown than he was before; and I believe this consideration was a Cordial unto Mexaris to comfort him for the loss of his Nephew: A while after, a new misfortune chanced unto Abradates, which was, that Croessus resolving to besiege Ephesus, would not nominate either Antaleon, or Mexaris, or Artesilas, his Lieutenant's Generals, but made choice of Cleander for it, telling Abradates, he would have offered him this employment, if the Queen of Susiana had not sent him word, that she was in hopes of making his peace very shortly: So Abradates being without any pretence of discontent, as Mexaris had, he was forced to go unto the Wars, at a time when his Rival was to stay behind with Panthea. Perinthus also grieved to be so far off the only one he loved; but though Mexaris was left with her yet since Abradates was to be absent as well as himself, his heart was more at ease. In the mean while Abradates, not being able to depart before he did more precisely know upon what terms he stood in the heart of Panthea, he sought all opportunities to talk in private with her; yet since she did carefully avoid it, and Perinthus for his own interest did as much prevent it as he could, he found it very difficult: For Madam be pleased to know, that this secret adorer of the Princess had found out an admirable device, that she should never be alone when Abradates came to see her; and thus he contrived it. First he told three or four Ladies of Quality whom the Princess did really esteem, and told them in great secret, that she loved them with abundance of tenderness, and that they would infinitely please the Princess in visiting her very often: Afterwards he promised them to be so officious as to acquaint them, when she was most at leisure to entertain them, and had least company with her; and indeed he sent so often to some one or other of them, that the Lovesick Abradates could never meet with a fit opportunity to speak with her in private, yet he did not so much accuse his misery as his misfortune, but knew not that it was caused by a Rival as miserable as himself: But at last finding Panthea walking in the Gardens of the King's Palace, she could not avoid his company: As good luck for him was, Mexaris was not there, and as ill luck for Perinthus was, he met him there, and he led Doralisa by the hand, who was walking with the Princess; yet notwithstanding he could not in civility molest the conversation of two persons of such a Quality: Doralisa told me since, that when Abradates presented his hand unto the Princess, Perinthus did for a while let go his, yet presently after recollecting himself, he took her hand again; but he was so much transported when they two talked together, that he knew not what he either said or did: Sometimes when his imagination told him, that Abradates was speaking of his Love to the Princess; he would gripe the hand of Doralisa so hard for very spite and anger, that he would extremely hurt her. Since Doralisa was one of an excellent wit, and had ever found Perinthus a most wise and prudent man, and the most orderly civil in the world, she was now much surprised at this passage: And he looking upon Doralisa, did find that his passion was too strong for him, and that he had discovered some signs of it; so that not knowing how to dissemble the matter, he took the first pretence that came into his mind. It is very unfortunate (said he unto her) that Abradates should at this time come to disturb that pleasure which I took in these walks, for I cannot look upon him, but I must needs remember, that when we parted the last time, I then received some orders from the Prince of Clasomena concerning a business of great consequence, which now forceth me much against my will to leave you very uncivilly: I conceive, said Doralisa, that in lieu of complaining against Abradates, you should be glad of his coming to put you in memory of what you had otherwise forgotten: But I conceive (said he, and parted from her at the end of the walk) that I have cause to accuse him, ●ince he is the cause that I must part from you, about that which does not half please me: All that Perinthus said unto Doralisa, was not at all satisfactory to her; yet notwithstanding, there was so little reason to think, that those turbulencies which she saw in his mind should have their original from any passion which the Princess should cause, that she would not yet believe it, but resolved to inquire whether Perinthus after he parted from her, had really been about any such important business as he pretended. During this passage, Abradates not to lose a minute of his precious time, was no sooner with the Princess, but beginning to speak; Madam, said he unto her, I have one favour to ask you, which I hope you will not deny. Since I make no question but what you desire of me is just, replied the Princess, I think you need not fear denials: Indeed I cannot choose but fear (said he to her) though upon examination of my thoughts I apprehend no less fears that you will grant my request, then that you will deny me: If you fear to obtain that which you would ask (replied Panthea) your best course is not to ask it: That would not be just, replied he, For truly Madam, being upon the point of departure, my desires are so violent to know upon what terms I stand in your opinion, that I cannot take my leave of you, unless you do me the favour to inform me: But withal being conscious of my own unworthiness, I am afraid, and that with much reason, that if you do not grant my desires, you will force me into such despair, as I dare not so much as look upon you, lest I should find the thoughts of your heart in your fair eyes: However Madam (said he, not giving her leisure to interrupt him) give me leave to let you know before pou speak, that whatsoever you either will or can speak unto me, I shall for ever adore you with a most unequalled passion; and that as I have loved you from the very first instant I saw you, so I shall love you to the last minute of my life: Therefore never think, I beseech you, that by being rigorous, you can chase out of my heart that passion which the fairest eyes upon earth have created in it: No, no, Madam, it is impossible, all your power is not able to reach so far; doubtless you may make me the most happy or miserable man alive, but you cannot hinder me from being eternally yours, and more yours then my own: Tell me then, I beseech you Madam, how I stand in your thoughts, and whether it be permitted me to hope I am in a better condition than Mexaris? Mexaris, replied she, is a great Prince, whom I reverence with all respect due unto his Quality: But as for Abradates, he is not well advised to eradicate that himself which his own merit had planted in my heart, and which if he had not, I should have infinitely esteemed him; but in the humour that now I am in, he hath put a great obstacle unto that friendship which I reserved for him, by speaking to me as he hath done. Is it possible Madam (said Abradates) that I should have been higher in your esteem, if I had not given you any testimonies of my Love? If so, certainly I am the most happy man alive, and I have no more to ask: Deceive not yourself Abradates, replied the Princess, for I am fully persuaded, that since you have took so much boldness as to speak what you have done, you do not esteem me enough: I know not whether I have told you before, but I see though I should tell it a hundred times, yet all would be over-little to persuade you, that though I do infinitely esteem those excellent Qualities which are in you; yet since you do not esteem me so much as I desire to be, I cannot think myself at all obliged unto you for that affection which you tell is in you. Alas Madam, replied Abradates, what higher testimony of a great esteem can be given unto any, then to give one's entire heart, to make you absolute Mistress of my Destiny, and who would neither live nor die, but according to your Dictates and Decrees: In these resolutions I appear prostrate before you Madam; and can you say I do not enough esteem you? You know very well Madam, that your eyes did never afford me one favourable look; what would you have me do now I am ready to depart, and leave such a Prince as Mexaris is at Sardis. However Madam, though you will not be pleased to let me know how I am in your thoughts, yet I beseech you let me know at the least what place my Rival holds there; for if he be but upon worse conditions than myself, I protest I shall depart without any murmur, and without ask any further favour. If there want nothing but that ingenuous Declaration to satisfy you, replied the Princess, and smiled, I pray leave me at rest, and keep yourself so also. In the mean time, know Abradates, (said she, and assumed a more serious look) that persons of my Quality and Virtue, never use to dispose of themselves, but to suit themselves and minds unto their Fortunes; therefore though I had a disposition to let you love me, yet I would never permit it, until I were in a condition that I might do it innocently, and without impudence. After this, I have no more to say, unless this, that you will much oblige me, if you will not force me to fly your company. As Abradates was ready to reply, the Princess Palmis came in, & broke off the discourse: And as we were then in a great walk of Cypress Trees, planted so close to one another, that they made a very thick hedge: It chanced as I cast my eyes upon a place where I saw the Boughs to shake, I perceived Perinthus lurking and looking through: I no sooner spied him, but I showed him Doralisa, which did much amaze her, that he should be so earnest to leave her to that end: Perinthus also was at an extreme nonplus, and told her, that as he was going out of the Garden, he met with him whom he had intended to go unto about his business, which being done, he returned into the Garden again, and taking into another walk before he was aware, he had a mind to see whether any had come in to supply his place since he went out, before he entered again. I understood you very well Perinthus (said she unto him) you think to make me conceal your incivility by this excuse, but truly you must invent a better before you prevail. Perinthus being in a terrible fear that Doralisa should go and acquaint the Princess and others with the disorder which she discovered in his Spirit, beseeched her that she would honour him with her hand again; then putting the Boughs of the Cypress close again, he began to conjure Doralisa in a low voice, not to speak unto any of the disorder which she discovered in his soul: I promise you that I will not, replied she, upon condition that you will acquaint me with the true cause, or to say better, confess it unto me, for to tell you truly, I am confident you are in Love with the Princess. Ah Doralisa (cried he out) I must trust myself unto your discretion, but I do conjure you Doralisa in the name of the Gods, that you do not discover it: I promise you I will not, said she unto him, upon condition you will be ingenuous and sincere: Know then, pursued Perinthus, that the Prince of Clasomena understanding that Mexars and Abradates were both in Love with Panthea, he apprehended much joy for the first of these, and much sorrow for the second; and therefore he absolutely commanded me to discover if I could, the true apprehensions of the Princess his Daughter, and if it were possible, to prevent Abradates from having any private discourse with her; yet I can safely swear unto you, that yet I have not told the least circumstance of any thing unto the Prince her Father: For since I am one who admires, and infinitely honour her, I could not become her Spy; yet I must ingenuously confess, that since he is here, I cannot choose but be angry, and since I could not remedy it, I thought it my best to retreat, lest if the Prince should chance to come, he should think me so far from being his informer, I was a concealer of things from him, and that was my reason why I would not be in the same walk where they were. But Perinthus, said Doralisa, since you have no design to prejudice the Princess, what was your reason for hiding yourself so closely amongst the Cypress Trees, and to observe her actions so precisely and closely? I did endeavour to inform myself of the truth (replied he) to the end I might better know how to behave myself between Mexaris and Abradates. Their merits are so different (replied Doralisa) that you might very well guess her thoughts of them, without taking such pains as to observe her actions: It is very true, replied Perinthus, and so I do, yet since the present condition of their two Fortunes is so different, I cannot choose but be biased in my wishes; and methinks the fair Doralisa, for her own interest, should desire that the Princess should rather remain in the Lydian Court, then go so far off as Susa. In the mean time, I conjure you not to discover me, and to believe that I will never either say or do any thing, which shall be against those respects which I owe unto the Princess. Doralisa lent an ear unto all this long discourse of Perinthus, but knew not whether she should believe him or no; for when she remembered the perplexity which she discovered in his mind when Abradates first came, she could not doubt but that he was in Love with Panthea: But when she considered the little probability that such a man as he should dare to nourish such thoughts as those in his heart, she gave credit unto his words, yet her faith in them was not so strong, but she was often apt to alter her opinion: However, she resolved not to speak of any of these passages; for said she, if Perinthus do love Panthea, he is so unfortunate in it, that I need not loaden him with more misery, by inconsiderately telling the Princess of that which perhaps he will never tell her himself: And if it be as he tells me, I will not speak of it neither, since thereby I shall prejudice Abradates, whom I infinitely esteem. Perinthus for his part was well pleased with the handsome lie which he had invented, which truly upon such a sudden was very ingenuous; for if Doralisa was faithful, and did not speak of it, he was fafe and at quiet, or if she did tattle any thing to the Princess, his hope was, that since she would believe the Prince her Father did disapprove of the Love of Abradates, she would happily and cunningly reject it. And thus the walk continued without much discontent, for to say the truth, the Princess was not sorry at her heart that Abradates was in Love with her: This Prince, for his part, thought the favour he obtained to be very high, in that he heard Panthea herself pronounce him happier than his Rival Mexaris was: Perinthus also thought he had escaped a great danger, since he had put a handsome gloss upon the imprudent discovery of his passion, so that there was none but Doralisa who was not reasonably well satisfied, and she was a little perplexed, that she could not tell well what to believe of Perinthus. After this, Abradates could not have any more private discourse with Panthea, and he must content himself to bid her adieu before much company, so that he durst not make half his sorrows appear in his eyes when he parted. As for Perinthus, since he was one of the house, he enjoyed the sight of his Princess with as much freedom as he could wish, but it was such a freedom as did him no good, since he durst not make use of it to express the passion of his soul unto her, but was forced to hide it with all possible care; yet in spite of all his cares, his melancholy would appear most visible, but since friendship might produce it as well as Love, the Princess would not interpret that to be the cause, which would have been extremely offensive to her, if she had known the cause. Doralisa was not present when he took his leave, and it was happy for him she was not; for since she had already some suspicion of the truth, doubtless she would have palpably perceived, that his sorrows proceeded from a more tender cause then matter of friendship: When he was gone out of the Princess Chamber, she called him back, and enjoined him to write (as often as any opportunities would permit him) all the news from the Army; And in return, said she unto him, I will oblige Doralisa to answer you, though I shall not, and to send you the news of Sardis. At the first Perinthus was much ravished with these commands; but when he began to consider that this favour had never been conferred upon him, but to take all suspicions away, that she was so dear unto him as she was; his joys were less; yet on the other side when he considered it to be a favour which all his Rivals as great Princes as they were, could never obtain, he cheered up himself, and was less grieved. Moreover, since that Rival which he most feared should be absent as well as himself, it troubled him the less: Also he went to bid adieu unto Doralisa, with a mind that was free and jocand enough for a Lover that was to depart: 'Tis true, he was as careful as possible he could to dissemble his thoughts at this time, when indeed he stood in need of all his art: For Doralisa upon premeditated thoughts told him a hundred passages, which would have extremely troubled one to answer that was less subtle than himself: But he replied unto every thing with such Spirit, that she found nothing but what did increase her doubts. In the mean while, as the Princess of Clasomena was a little melancholy for the departure of Abradates, so Mexaris was as joyful as possible could be, yet he found no better entertainment from Panthea; But on the other side, she did as far as civility would permit, express more coldness to him in the absence of Abradates than she did before; and she treated him with such hollow indifferecy, as almost showed him the way to despair, and which moved him unto many things that troubled Panthea; For when he found, that the more obsequious he was, the less gracious he found her, he resolved to transact secretly with the Prince her Father; but yet notwithstanding, he visited and waited upon her with all assiduity, though Doralisa by order from the Princess did bolt out a hundred crafty passages, which surely were nothing pleasing unto him, continually saying, That Sardis now was no more than a Desert, since the Camp had exhausted it, and that it was better being in the Country by a hundred degrees, than there where there is none considerable in the Court: But let her say what she could, he would not be banished, but did continually torment us with his company, yet had he wit and Spirit enough; but yet this base disposition which reigned so tyrannically in his heart, and which made him think all lost that he gave or spent, made every one not esteem him. Moreover, the affection which every one bore Abradates did augment their aversion to Mexaris, so that it is no wonder the Princess should not love that Prince whom no body loved: And on the other side, it had been a miracle if she had either hated or forgotten Abradates, whom all the world did speak of with a high esteem, and whom she knew did love her with a most violent passion; and you may assure yourself he was neither hated nor forgotten during all the Ephesian War, no nor the Myssian and Phrygian War: Fame did Trumpet his valour so highly in his commendation during his absence, that it may be said he was no less obliged unto his own courage and valour, then unto the Princess for this favour toward him. As long as the War lasted, Perinthus failed not to write unto the Princess: But since he was a man of a most generous soul, you may imagine him a little troubled to pay that obedience; for how could he relate all the passages of the Army, and not mention all the glorious acts of Abradates, who as well as Cleander, did raise himself unto a high pitch of eminency? And how could he find a Genius to commend a Rival, and help him to conquer the heart of Panthea? His way was commonly to speak of things in general, without particularising the actions of any one, contenting himself to say only, that the Enemy was beaten, and to declare only the advantages of the Army, as presupposing that the Princess desired news to no other end, but as things related to the interest and good of the State: that in all the relations which Perinthus made unto the Princess, the name of Abradates was never used, but only once, and that too against his will, which chanced thus: Two or three days after the taking of Ephesus, Perinthus having almost finished his Letters to the Princess, Abradates came into his Chamber, and presently after him Cleander entered also, who knowing that it was he who sent all the news of the Army unto the Princess, told him, that the messenger who was to carry the Packet unto Sardis would depart within this two hours: Perinthus answered, that he had not above two words to write; and since it was known to all the world that he had a most admirable faculty in writing, Abradates who never had seen any of his Letters and did not suspect him to be his Rival, told him, that if there were nothing in his Letter but only a relation of the Siege, he should be extremely glad to see it, not doubting but he was as good at writing, as he was at acting his part in Military affairs. Cleander did second the desire: At first Perinthus did modestly refuse, but seeing Cleander was importunate that he should show what he had writ, he was afraid that if he did not show it, perhaps it might be conceived, that he had writ something disadvantageous of them, so that submitting unto the desires of Cleander, Abradates took his Letter which was not finished, and read these words  
PERINTHUS to the Princess of Clasomena.  
THough Victory were in your power Madam, yet your desires of it could not be more happily accomplished: It waits upon the King's Armies in all places, and nothing can withstand them: The taking of the Town of Ephesus does well deserve, that the most illustrious Princess of the world should render thanks unto the Gods for one of the most glorious Conquests that ever was obtained: I believe there aught as much to be attributed unto the prevalency of your prayers Madam, as unto t●e valour of our Troops: The Enemy resisted so far, as conduced unto the glory of the Conquerors, but not so much as could keep themselves from being conquered: It is the will of Fate, that the Laurel wherewith Victory crowns the heads of conquerors is not sprinkled with much blood, since there is not one of any eminent quality died in this last assault. I do not tell you  
I intended to add (said Perinthus after Abradates had read the Letter) the particular actions of Cleander; and many others, when I broke off: You do very well (replied Abradates) and they cannot be better commended then by yourself, who knows so well how to do it: But since your modesty doubtless will not permit you to relate your own actions unto the Princess (said he unto him in a subtle manner of obligation to speak well of him) and since I dare not presume to write a Letter from myself unto her, having no Commission for it as you have, I beseech you let me add something to your Letter; and then not staying for the answer of Perinthus, who opposed him as much as in civility he could, he writ these words.  
The excellent relation of Perinthus would be imperfect, if some part of those praises which he deserves were not included; therefore for your satisfaction, for his glory and my own, I beseech you give me leave to be his Historian, and to tell you, that he hath made himself most highly eminent in all occasions which presented themselves, and that except the illustrious Cleander, he deserves all that glory which he attributes unto others: This Madam I thought to be the duty of a man, who pretends unto no higher ambition then to be thought the most humble Adorer of the fairest Princess upon earth.  
After Abradates had Postscripted these words, and that Cleander had read it aloud, the heart of Perinthus was much divided; for he thought it a very advantageous piece of honour to be commended unto the Princess so highly by such a Prince as he: But that he himself should send the Letter of his most feared Rival unto his loved and adored Princess, was a thing not to be endured: So that to prevent it if possible he could, he said, that he was ashamed to be a sender of his own praises, and that it would purchase him more shame than glory Moreover, he feared, that the Princess should think very strange he should take upon him the boldness to send her any Letters from such a Prince as Abradates (For said he very subtly) that she be pleased to honour me with her commands to write unto her myself, yet that is no consequence that another should do so also: Nor is it my own interest only which I consider; But I am afraid (said he, and turned towards Abradates) that you intent a good office in my behalf unto the Princess by it, yet it may make you worse in her opinion. Since I am certain she esteems you very much (replied this Prince, who exceedingly desired that his Letter should come into the hands of his Princess) I do not fear she will be offended at me for presenting a truth unto her in your advantage. No, no, said Cleander, I warrant you the Princess will never be offended at such a piece of Gallantry as this, for though she be something severe, yet she is rational, and knows how to take things as they ought to be: But it would be well (added he) that Perinthus make an end of his Letter, and present your Encomium also. Abradates out of modesty did forbid him, and Perinthus had a desire to say, that he was not able to command too such illustrious persons sufficiently in so short a time; But Cleander told him, he would dispense with him for half that trouble, and conjured him not to mention him, but forced him to end his Letter in commendation of Abradates, of whose passion he was not ignorant: So that Perinthus was forced to finish it in this manner, though it was not his first intention.  
I will not tell you Madam, how the Prince Abradates hath got abundance of glory by a thousand gallant actions; for after what he hath said in my behalf, that would be suspected of flattery. I can also assure you, I am very sorry that his civilities has forced me to alter the end of my Letter, and to relate things after another manner than I intended: Nor will I tell you what Miracles the illustrious Cleander hath wrought, for Fame will do that office for me: But give me leave to tell you without any affected modesty, that I was never in all my life so loath unto any thing, as to this in sending you my own commendation, although it was writ by the hand of a great Prince, and seem to be an infinite honour unto me, that it should be read by the most excellent Princess of all the world.  
PERINTHUS.  
When Perinthus had finished, he hoped that happily they would go away, and that afterwards he might procure the messenger who was to carry this Letter, to say he had lost it: Yet he had no sooner ended and sealed it, but Cleander's Envoy came in to receive his last Orders, so that poor Perinthus was forced to deliver it before them, and away went the messenger. Perinthus was almost mad at this accident: What a most miserable Fate is this (said he unto himself, as he has told me since) that I should be the means Abradates should write unto that Princess whom I adore? Perhaps she will imagine I did voluntarily do him this office, and that I am the confident of his passion? In the names of all the Gods, Oh my adored Panthea (said he, as if she had understood him) be not so injust as to think I did this Prince any service to you: It is too much you must not know I love you, without thinking that I would have you love another. But Perinthus, (said he presently to himself) Art thou not resolved to content thyself with the esteem of thy Princess? Hast thou not determined with thyself never to discover thy Love unto her? And dost thou not know, thou canst never have any share in her affection? Why then art thou not satisfied with that commendations which Abradates hath sent in thy behalf, since it may augment the esteem which she hath of thee? If the praises of an Enemy be glorious, why should not those of a great Prince? But alas, alas, this great Prince is my Rival, and such a Rival as in all likelihood will obtain the Love of my Princess: It is no wonder then that thou shouldest be troubled, to be thus forced to commend him, and to receive any commends from him. Afterwards, when he considered with himself that the Princess would answer in her Letter unto what Abradates had writ, and that he should be constrained to let his Rival see the Civilities of Panthea, he resolved, that if the Letter was over-obliging unto Abradates, to smother it: Therefore he expected this answer with as much longing impatience, as if he had sent a Declaration of his Love unto Panthea, though his curiosity was only to see what the Princess would say concerning Abradates, who on his side expected this answer with the same impatience, though not with the same fears, since it was only three day's journey between Ephesus and Sardis, the Letter of Perinthus came thither in two days, because he who carried intelligence of the taking of Ephesus went Post, and made great haste. Doralisa, who never was absent from Panthea, was present as well as myself, when the Princess received this Letter, which at the first she began to read aloud, for knowing that Perinthus never used to intimate any thing but matter of news, she expected no other. But when she came to the place which Abradates had writ, and saw it in another hand different from that of Perinthus, she read it in a low voice and blushed, whilst Doralisa and myself had several apprehensions of it: For Doralisa having some suspicions of his passion, imagined that perhaps he had took heart, and writ unto the Princess concerning it: But I, who had no such conceits, only thought it something which she would not have us know: Yet after the Princess had done reading, and that the disorder which the name of Abradates caused in her soul, was appeased, she gave the Letter unto Doralisa, and myself to read; and being desirous to colour the tenderness of heart which she expressed, she told us, That when she saw the alteration of hands, and the name of Abradates, she was afraid lest he had intimated something, which would have given her cause of complaint, both against Abradates and Perinthus: However Doralisa (said she, after the Letter was read) you see that Perinthus, though not in Love, yet he can be valiant; and that to be brave and gallant, it is sufficient that one be only in Love with glory; for though I seemed to believe, as others did, that Perinthus was in Love, yet I assure you, I never did really believe it at all: And I assure you Madam, replied Doralisa, I am not of your opinion; doubtless one may be valiant and not amorous, but I do confidently maintain, that if a Gallant man was never in Love, he shall be brave and valiant, but brutish withal: And since Perinthus, though valiant, is not brutish, therefore I must conclude him to be in Love. However (said the Princess) as friendly as I am to Perinthus, and as joyful as I am to see his praises wr●t by the hand of so illustrious a Prince, yet believe me, I am almost angry with him, because I am forced to answer something unto Abradates. Truly Madam (said Doralisa to her) I should conceive the difficulty not great to answer any thing in that Letter: It is true (said she, and blushed) the difficulty is not in answering any thing to that Letter, but to something which he said unto me at parting; and then the Princess was pleased to acquaint us with the conference she had with him; yet notwithstanding, after she had well considered upon it, she resolved to write, as I shall presently relate unto you. In the mean while, Abradates and Perinthus, who waited impatiently for an answer from the Princess, were so exact to inquire the day when the messenger would return, that they knew to an hour when he would come to give an account unto Cleander: But as ill luck to Perinthus was, Cleander, who loved Abradates, and was not ignorant of his passion to the Princess of Clasomena; also longing to know what she answered, went immediately unto Abradates, who was then in the Garden of the house where he lodged, and Perinthus with him, who in his presence received the answer from the Princess: You may imagine what the thoughts of Perinthus were, in opening this Letter from Panthea, suspecting it to be too gallant and obliging unto Abradates; and this Prince perceiving some disorder in the face of Perinthus, he imagined only that it proceeded from his fears of the Princess anger, for sending his Letter; so that he bestowed a compliment or two upon Perinthus, unto which he replied as well as he could 〈◊〉 but thought it not advantageous for himself to open the Letter so soon, yet Abradates and Cleander so pressed him unto it, that he was forced to open it, and read aloud these words,  
PANTHEA unto PERINTHUS.  
IT appears sufficiently, both by what you have related concerning the Prince Abradates, and the illustrious Cleander, and by Fame also, that victory is much rather a consequent of their courage, than my prayers; yet I will never cease them for the augmentation of their glory, which can never be so high as I desire them. As for yours Perinthus, I find it arrived at so high a pitch, that I think it impossible to wish it greater: For to be commended by such a Prince as merits all praises himself, is an honour so great, that the height of your ambition ought to be completely satisfied; yet since your modesty would have debarred you from telling it, I am obliged unto Abradates for it, though otherwise I am sorry for putting himself to that trouble: Assure him, that as he hath much augmented the esteem which I had of you, so you have most strongly confirmed me in my thoughts of him. After this, expect not that I should return intelligence for intelligence, unless to acquaint you, that Doralisa doth still accuse you, and is absolutely persuaded, that all those glorious acts which you have done are rather effects of that secret passion which lies close in your heart, then of your courage; For my part I am still just, and take your part as well as I can, adieu: Assure Abradates and Cleander, that Victory shall always follow them, if Fortune follow my desires:  
PANTHEA.  
Perinthus read the Letter so badly, especially towards the latter end, that Abradates did civilly desire to read it himself again, that he might understand it, telling him with a smile, He wondered that a man who could write so well, should read so ill: But oh Heavens, in what a pitiful case was the poor Perinthus, when he perceived the joys of Abradates in reading this Letter, for all it contained nothing but common civility, yet he was extremely pleased with it. The delight only to see his name written by the hand of Panthea, transported him into a rapture of joy: After he had read it alo●d, he read it over again from one end to the other in a low voice, and when he had done, he would not upon any terms render it back unto Perinthus, whose perplexities were more excessive than the joys of Abradates were great: he was not only vexed that the Princess should return such a civil answer unto Abradates, but he was afraid lest Doralisa should fall into her old jealousies, and in the end discover something; yet he was fully persuaded she had not yet opened any thing to Panthea, for if she had, Panthea would: not have written unto him. Thus having a soul swollen with thousand several conceits, and not one agreeable to his desires, he seemed very restless; all those obliging words which the Princess had writ relating to himself, did not at all satisfy him, because he thought the commendations she gave Abradates, to be a bitter potion after all those sweet civilities she bestowed upon him. In the mean time, Cleander desiring to oblige Abradates, and never suspecting that Perinthus was in Love with Panthea, he desired Perinthus to let Abradates keep the Princess Letter: And indeed Perinthus, said he unto him, the Letter does belong unto him as much as unto you. Dear Perinthus (said this amorous Prince, and embraced him) I heartily beseech you grant me this favour which Cleander in my behalf hath asked, and which indeed I durst not. Sir, replied Perinthus, much amazed and troubled, Since you say yourself durst not ask what you desire, it may be imagined you know I ought not to consent unto it: And truly what would the Princess say, if I should part with it: For Sir, the more worthy you are to keep this Letter, the more do I fear to offend the Princess in suffering it: If it had been her pleasure that you should have a Letter from her, she would have writ it particularly to you; but this being not so, I beseech you take it not, if I deny it unto you, since I would not have her take it ill from me: But the Princess need never know it (said Cleander to him) and by consequence it cannot prejudice you. However, since I know it myself, replied he, it will be a perpetual trouble to my mind that I should do any thing against my duty: But Perinthus (said Abradates unto him) you will do a thing against the Laws of friendship, if you refuse me this Letter; and therefore I pray permit me to keep it for a few days, upon promise to restore it back. In good earnest, said Cleander, and looked upon Perinthus) you are too precise, if not too rigid; for be your respects of the Princess never so great) I cannot see you would do her any great injury, in trusting a Letter into the hands of a Prince) who doubtless would preserve it with more care than you can have. However it be (said Perinthus with a troubled visage) I have a great desire to do what I ought: I am fully resolved, said Abradates, not to restore it, unless I have a copy of it at the least. Really Perinthus, (said Cleander, and would not give him time to answer) you must do this, if you have any disposition to oblige at once, both the Princess, and Abradates, and myself. I am most unfortunate (replied Perinthus) to meet with such a cross conjuncture. The truth is Perinthus (said Cleander) you must obey your friends; and to set your mind at rest, I will undertake to tell the Princess, if she chance to know it, that you denied it with as much zeal, as if you had been in Love with her, and as if one of your Rivals had asked a copy of a Letter from your Mistress. After this, Cleander not staying for any answer from Perinthus, commanded one of his servants to fetch him ink and paper: Perinthus was a long while obstinate, but at last, fearing lest his obstinacy should argue the true cause of itself, and both Abradates and Cleander divine his passion by it, he consented Abradates should have a copy; so that Abradates going into an Arbour, amidst which was a Table of Jasper, he set himself to write: Mean while Cleander addressed himself unto Perinthus, and persuaded him to do Abradates all the good offices he could unto the Princess of Clasomena, and the Princess his Daughter; but Perinthus was so ne●●ed and unquiet, that he had much ado to return any answer: He was transported with such violent raptures at this discourse, that he was a hundred and hundred times ready to snatch the Letter out of the hands of Abradates, and to draw his Sword; yet the presence of Cleander, and several others which were in the Garden prevented him, and the first apprehensions being over, reason did reassume his seat in his soul, and he dissembled the matter as well as he could; and to calm the disorders of his mind, he began to think that this Letter was only a Letter of civility, and therefore he ought not to vex so excessively at it: So that 〈◊〉 answer to the desires of Cleander, in behalf of Abradates; he told him, That it was very true, he had the honour to be much in the Prince of Clasomena's favour, and a little with the Princess; but yet it was his maxim, which lie ever observed, never to speak unto his Masters of any affairs which they do not first on themselves: And since Abradates himself is a man of most high merit, it is not requisite to employ any either unto the one or the other. As soon as Abradates had done writing, he came unto them, but before he would restore Panthea's Letter, he wooed Perinthus to be contented with the Copy, and to let him keep the Original, but he could not possibly obtain it, so that neither of them were contented; for Abradates was sorry he had not the real Letter of Panthea, and Perinthus was sorry he had parted with a Copy, yet within a few days after his sorrows were much more bitter, for he understood that Abradates did grow more confident upon the Princess her civilities to him, and did write a hundred passages unto Doralisa to tell unto the Princess; and afterwards, when he went from Ephesus unto the Phrygian War, which began immediately after this ended, he writ unto the Princess herself, he knew very well they could not be Letters of secrecy, yet since he was not ignorant, that he who writ them was in Love, his sorrows were extreme, and wished very often that Mexaris might thrive by the absence of Abradates, and that the Prince of Clasomena would bestow his Daughter upon him. But whilst both Abradates and Perinthus were in these Wars, Mexaris was a perpetual persecutor of the Princess, for he was not only an eternal troublesome Visitant, but knowing that there was interchange of Letters betwixt Abradates and her, he became so furiously choleric, that one day he quite forgot those respects which he was accustomed to observe, and thus it chanced. Doralisa, who knew very well what aversion the Princess had unto this Prince, took a great delight in twitting him with a hundred passages before all the company, which were not at all pleasing unto him, and upon every occasion she would commend the virtue of liberality in general, and often of Abradates in particular. One day then, when he was with the Princess, and when she saw that his discourse was not pleasing to the Princess, she did so handsomely turn the talk, that Mexaris fell insensibly to speak of prodigality, and by little and little she screwed him up to that point, as he maintained prodigality to be the greatest of vices. For my part (said she unto him) I am not of your opinion, since I cannot possibly believe, that Vice which resembles one of the most Heroic Virtues, should be worse than Avarice. How, said Mexaris, do you prefer Liberality in the Soul of a Prince before Valour and Prudence? And had you rather have him liberal, then wise and courageous? I know not, said she, Whether I had rather have him liberal then valiant and prudent; but I am sure I would not have a Prince to be covetous. There are some (said Mexaris then) who love liberality in another, only because they have Mercenary Souls of their own: 'Tis true, said the Princess, some such there are, but not always, for I am certain Doralisa is none of them, but of a generous disposition: Liberality and Generosity, replied he, are not the same: I grant it, said Doralisa, for I am not ignorant how there are some men liberal, who are not generous in all other actions of their life: But yet I will maintain, that he who is not liberal, is not generous, and that Prince who does not possess that virtue, cannot possess any; For can it be goodness to see a hundred men of excellent merit, who are out of favour with Fortune, and not to assist them? Is there any prudence in getting hatred in lieu of a thousand honourers by benefits? Is there any policy in procuring enemies in lieu of benefits? Is it glorious to dote unmeasureably upon that which so many wise men have scorned? Is there any friendship to be expected from him that denies every thing that is asked him? Can he ever be a good Master who never doth recompense those who serve him? Is there any gallantry in having such a hidebound soul as is never ready to give? Or can he be a rare Prince that is covetous? And hath not such virtues as raiseth them above other men, for indeed I know no other virtue but liberality which sets them above others: Valour is a virtue as Heroic in the soul of a simple soldier, as in the greatest King: Goodness is common to all men, and commonly more to Subjects then Sovereigns: Prudence is not peculiarly theirs, others may be as wise, and put their wisdom in practice as well as they; but as for liberality, the glory of it is peculiar only unto great ones: It is in vain for those who have nothing to give, to have that virtue, since they cannot make it appear and shine in its glory: Also it is in vain, that great ones should have the power to give, if they have not the will to do it. Yet I can hardly believe, replied Mexaris, That it is the intention of the Gods, that those men whom they honoured with riches above others, should lavishly throw them away as they please: And yet it appears as clearly, replied Doralisa, to be the pleasure of the Gods, that those things which they give, should be converted into public good, and not hoarded up to satisfy the avaricious humour of a private man. We have a thousand glorious examples of that, said the Princess, The Sun affords his rays and light to all the world, the Sea gives of his waters unto the Rivers and Fountains: And Kings also, unto whom the Gods have given authority, are obliged to contribute it, and all their cares for the good of their Dominions, and defence of their Subjects. Ha, as for matter of cares (said Doralisa, and smiled) I know some who are not very covetous of them, though otherwise I am sure they are not over-liberal. I wonder, said Mexaris, since liberality is so commondable, we never heard of the liberality of Doralisa: I have already told you Sir, replied she, That the practice of that virtue belongs only to Princes, yet I have given more perhaps than you imagine: As for matter of cares and circumspection (said he, intending to speak of the good offices she had done Abradates) I know you have not been very niggardly, for you are very diligent to serve your absent friends. Why Sir, (said the Princess to him, desiring to turn the discourse.) Do you chide Doralisa for that, as if it were a crime? I conceive it to be an excellent quality, not to forget one's friends. I perceive Madam (replied he, transported with anger and Love together) That Doralisa inspires you with all these inclinations, and that she has made you so liberal, that you will not only give your own heart, but also refuse the heart of all others, except— Mexaris stopped at these words, perhaps as being angry that he had spoken more than he wished he had; but the air wherewith he pronounced those words did so offend the Princess, that she could not forbear some expressions of displeasure. 'Tis true (replied Panthea unto the insolent language of Mexaris) that there are very few hearts which I will accept of, though they should be offered me; and yet more true, that if ever I give mine, it shall be unto a person so illustrious, that this my liberality shall not make me pass for a Prodigal. How Madam (replied Mexaris, desiring to mend the matter.) Can I hope that your heart is not yet given? This word Hope, said she unto him, is not in its due place, for whether my heart be given, or not given, those who wrong me, ought never to pretend unto any part of it: I do not know any that wrongs you, replied he, unless it be such as love you, who are unworthy: I grant it, said she unto him, for such I mean: Yet we do not well understand one another, replied he, for you mean Mexaris, and I mean Abradates, who though but an Exile, yet presumes to look so high as yourself. Abradates has the honour to be so near allied unto yourself, replied she, that you cannot be offended at him, unless you are so at yourself, therefore I do not defend him. However Sir, I beseech you do not take it ill if I tell you freely, that if I could dispose of myself as I would, I should receive no more visits from you: I am contented (said he in rising up) but in exchange I will address myself to the Prince your Father, which perhaps will be more advantageous to me: After this, Mexaris went out from the Princess, who was more moved with anger against him, than I am able to express; and I believe he did a very good office unto Abradates, for methought ever since that day, there appeared more esteem of him in all the discourse of Panthea. In the mean time, Mexaris went one day to the Prince of Clasomena, and after much common discourse, he told him, that he could give him some advice which might be advantageous to him: After which, he told him, that honouring him as he did, he thought it expedient to tell him, how he thought it a piece of prudence to take such order, that the Prince Abradates at his return to Court should be desired by the Princess his Daughter, not to carry himself any longer as her Lover, that he knew it was an Alliance which Croessus would not approve on: That moreover, it would not be advantageous unto Panthea to marry an exiled Prince, who had nothing to subsist upon but the benevolence of the King as long as his Mother lived. Afterwards he told him, that if he would transact the matter after this manner, she would not lose the opinion of a Prince, who might place her in a more considerable rank then that of Abradates. The Prince of Clasomena gave Mexaris thanks for the advice which he gave him; and since he was not ignorant of the affection which he bore unto his Daughter, and since the death of the Prince Atis, he wished rather she would marry him then Abradates, he promised him to take his counsel, insomuch as Mexaris driving the nail more home, did discover his Love unto his Daughter, and moved him to make up the match before the King returned: But for all the good language which he gave unto the Father of his Princess, he could not move him unto his desires, nor to give Croessus any such cause of complaint as perhaps might start a Civil War: So that contenting himself with a promise that he would prevent the desires of Abradates as much as he could, and that he would favour his, he refused to marry his Daughter unto him without the King's consent, or at least until he had refused. However Mexaris thought he had played his game very well, and had obtained very much, in that he was promised his Rival should not thrive: And indeed that very same night, the Prince of Clasomena spoke unto his Daughter, and told her, that she would highly displease him, if at the return of Abradates she did not reject all his offers of service to her; and on the contrary, if she did not with much civility receive the visits of Mexaris. The Princess was much surprised, and vexed at this discourse, yet answered with much wisdom and generosity both; for after she had assured her Father that she would be most obedient unto him as long as life was hers, she beseeched him not to enjoin her any thing unworthy of herself and him: As for Abradates, said she unto him, though I do very much honour him, yet I can most easily obey you; but as for Mexaris, who hath most manifestly wronged me, and against whom I have an unalterable aversion, I most humbly beseech you, do not command me to behave myself so unto him, as if I esteemed him, or as if I were any thing obliged to him; for besides the injustice in it, I am afraid I cannot obey you in my heart. Then the Prince of Clasomena would know the cause of her exceptions against him; but though she did aggravate the matter in relating of it, yet he did not take it as she desired he should, but on the contrary told her, that all his misdemeanours were only effects of his extreme passion towards her, and therefore he did exact peremptory obedience from her: Until now Madam, it is most certain that Panthea never thought of Abradates, but only in the degree of esteem, and she thought it no difficulty at all unto her to treat him more coldly then usual at his return: But yet for all that, she resolved to look a little better upon Mexaris, by casting some frowns upon Abradates: But her drift was, that if she concurred with her Father in half of his desires, she thought she might the better refuse him the other half; so that to treat Mexaris the worse, she resolved to use Abradates' something severely: But Madam, the illustrious Cleander returning in triumph unto Sardis after so many glorious Victories; the Princess began to perceive, that there was more difficulty in acting her resolutions, than ever she imagined: For since every one spoke of nothing but the valour of Abradates, her heart was so moved unto excessive joy, that she saw she was not an absolute Mistress of her own heart; yet since she could not find a heart absolutely to resist her Father's commands, she permitted Mexaris after a complementive submission, and ask her pardon to visit her; and though she held but a cold and hollow-hearted correspondency with him, yet he Courted and followed her to all places. The day of Cleander's Triumph being come, all the Windows in those streets where he was to pass were filled with Ladies; so that the Princess being there amongst the rest, Mexaris, who had been a day's journey from Sardis to meet the King, and who for some reasons best known to himself, would not enter the Town with him, came to the house where the Princess was, and many other Ladies with her: As soon as she saw him, she was so exceedingly vexed, that she could not choose but impart her thoughts unto Doralisa: Good Madam, answered she, by any means do not let the Prince Abradates when he passeth by crowned with his Laurels, have the sorrow to see you with his Rival; nor let him have any cause to fear that this Rival has the least corner of your heart. Really Doralisa, replied the Princess, I wish Mexaris further off me for my own sake, without any consideration of Abradates, but I know not which way I should berid of him: I must then begin some stinging disputation, said Doralisa, and that perhaps will keep him from looking out when Abradates passeth by: The Princess liked the project, but it did not take, for Mexaris was premeditately resolved to observe how the Princess looked upon Abradates when he passed before her, and likewise to make his Rival sad at the sight of him so near the Princess, and therefore he would not leave her an inch, though she had no kind of inconstant action in her garb, as many have, yet she changed her seat above twenty times, and he likewise changed as often; sometimes she would sit at the Window, and cause Doralisa to sit close by her, but she was no sooner seated, than he would uncivilly intrude unto the same Window, to the end Abradates might see him near Panthea, and do what she could he would not be shaken off. I shall not relate unto you Madam the magnificence and glory of this Triumph, because time would be but frivolously spent. But give me leave to tell you the Prisoners, the Colours, and all the plunder of the Field, taken from the enemies were passed by, we saw at the last (after above ten thousand Horsemen) the King appear, and after him Abradates and Cleander, as those who had merited all the glory of the Triumph. For my part, I did most circumspectly observe all passages: I observed that as soon as Abradates appeared, he knew the Princess, and saw Mexaris next her, for his eyes paid their devotion only up to that Window where she was. This Prince was that day of so becoming a garb, and his accoutrements all so magnificent, that I never saw him so glorious and amiable in my life. Mexaris no sooner spied him, but he looked whether the Princess saw him, and indeed he was so happy, or to say more truly, so unhappy, that he was an eye-witness of the first thought which the sight of Abradates did raise in her; for although she had before this first sight prepared herself against it, yet as soon as she saw him, she blushed, and blushed so as Mexaris observed the joy in her eyes; what sorrow soever his soul suffered, yet he stayed still in his place: But whatsoever he spoke unto the Princess, with intention of moving her to speak unto him when Abradates passed under the Window, could not make her answer him one single syllable. Doralisa observing it, Sir, said she unto him, you need not wonder why the Princess is so silent, for it is impossible she should look, and hear, and speak all at once: Nor would I have her, replied he, For I wish she would not look so long upon Abradates, but that she would hearken unto me, and afterwards answer me. In the mean while, the King, and by consequence Abradates drawing nearer, Mexaris was more sad to observe how this Prince saluted her with such Love and devotion, and in such a becoming manner, that all the Ladies about Panthea did extremely commend him: But to complete his misery, the Princess who did intend only to salute him with a common cold civility, could not keep within that compass, but most obligingly leaned out of the Window, and such a free, sprightly, and pleasing air appeared in her face, as she made it plainly appear she was ravished with joy, so that her looks did cure Abradates of more than half his sorrows to see his Rival so near her: In exchange, Mexaris was so extremely vexed, that not being able to abide this any longer, he retired from the Window, and walked up and down the Chamber, whilst the Princess was looking upon Abradates, who looked still that way, until turning into a street upon the left hand, he could look no longer. The poor Perinthus, who being prompted by the passion of his soul, was very desirous to see this first interview of Panthea and Abradates, followed this Prince very close, and had observed how the Princess saluted him most obligingly, he stayed a little behind him, pretending to speak with some body, in hopes the Princess would cast her eyes upon him; but the mind of Panthea being very busy, he saluted her three or four times, and she perceived him not, though her eyes were turned that way, and I think he had made all his compliments to no purpose, if Mexaris leaving his walk, had not come unto the Window, and perceived him, and caused the Princess to perceive him also: Madam, said he unto her, I think it may be said, and not improperly, that you see, and you see not; you do not see that which you look upon, otherwise I believe Perinthus to be so complete a man, that he deserves some return unto his long salute. The Princess was much surprised at the discourse of Mexaris, unto which he would return no answer, but spied Perinthus under her Window, unto whom she made a hundred obliging signs, by way of excuse, for not seeing him sooner; she called unto Doralisa, and showed him unto her. Thus did Mexaris much against his mind, make his Rival receive a hundred obliging favours: It is true, Perinthus was not a jot more happy for all these, as well by reason of his cruel thought that the Princess was not friends with him, as because she was ignorant of the passion in his soul. In the mean while, since there was a necessity of Mexaris his going unto the King's house, and since the Princess told him she would pass the rest of the day in the house wherein she was, he was constrained to leave her: Within a quarter of an hour after he was gone, Perinthus came in, unto whom the Princess expressed a hundred testimonies of friendship towards him. Doralisa, according to her old custom, fell upon the secret passion whereof she was wont to accuse him, and did strive with as much diligence to clear all her suspicions, as if she had some particular interest in him, and she used all possible endeavours to discover whether his heart were already captivated, as she had after suspected; and therefore she never saw him, but she put a hundred odd questions unto him, which did exceedingly puzzle him. After much discourse upon the happy success of this War, the Princess asked Perinthus whether he had not contracted a great knot of friendship with Abradates during this War? For I conceive it very fit, said she, that you two were intimate friends: Friendship Madam, replied he, is not like unto Love, which very commonly grows between two unequal persons; but on the contrary, to complete a friendship, there is a necessity that it be between two persons of a suitable age, humour and quality: So that since I am very short of Abradates in almost all things, it were rash presumption in me to pretend unto the humour of his friendship: For my part, said the Princess, If I did not think that what you say were out of modesty only, I should wonder your opinion should be so contrary unto mine, for I am fully persuaded, that Love ought always to be between persons of equal condition and quality, but in matters of friendship it is not absolutely necessary; and I should think the fate of Princes to be of all men most miserable, if they should never have any friends but of their own condition, who are not always the best accomplished men, and who however are but a very small number. Since your reason Madam, replied Perinthus, is much more clear than mine, perhaps I am mistaken; but I have ever thought that Princes can have only creatures and servants, but few friends: Yet on the contrary, I have thought that the power of Love was never confined into such narrow limits as you prescribe: Ah Perinthus, said the Princess, I conceive there is an absolute necessity in it, yet I do not hold it impossible, that one of high quality should and may stoop so low as to love an inferior: But I say that disproportion in Love, is one of the most extravagant things in the world. But Madam (said Doralisa, and smiled, and having a desire to make Perinthus speak) You do not consider how this passion was in the hearts of men, before ever force put a difference between them, or had made some Sovereigns, and some Subjects: So that according to the first intention of the Gods, the necessary equality to make Love reasonable, is equality of merit, and equality of person, and not of condition and quality, which are strange things, and which serve oft times to render those that possess them in the highest degree, the more contemptible and scorned, when they are not found to be persons of Merit. I conceive Madam, replied Perinthus, that Doralisa speaks much reason: I conceive rather (replied the Princess) that she speaks much wit: But for all that I must maintain, that there is a certain kind of universal discretion, which custom hath established, and aught to be taken as Reason and Law, that the quality of persons who are to Love, should not be disproportionable: If Love, replied Perinthus, were a thing voluntary, I should then think some equity in what you say, but since it is not, I conceive it to be most unjust. By this discourse of Perinthus, (said Doralisa) one may conclude, that if he Love, he Loves above himself, or below himself: Perinthus (said the Princess) speaks this only in general, and makes no particular application; And to tell you truly, I do love Perinthus better then to suspect him of any such thing, for I think him so wise, as that he will aim at no impossibilities, and so full of honour, as that he will not Love below his Quality. Perinthus was now exceeding at an nonplus, for his Love would not permit him to confess the Princess was in the right; and to say she was in the wrong, were either to discover his secret, or to be suspected of a passion unworthy of himself: So that returning a witty enigmatical answer, neither the Princess nor Doralisa could thereby make any certain conclusions. In the mean time, said the Princess, we do the greatest injury in the world unto so many illustrious Heroes, who have hazarded their lives for our safeties, and have not been sparing of their bloods to the end they should be talked on; for in lieu of discoursing upon those glorious acts which they have done in the Wars, we are talking upon matters of Love, which is full of extravagancies and folly. After this, since now it grew late, she rise up, and went home, where Abradates was already come to visit the Prince her Father, who received him very coldly. But as soon as he spied the Princess out of a Balcone, he presently left the Father, and as his devotion called him, went unto his Princess the Daughter. Panthea received him with much civility, but with somewhat less freedom than he saw in her eyes when he passed by her, but his joys to be near her was so great, that at the first he made no great reflection upon it; and the less, because he being alone with her, she did it purposely to prevent his boldness in talking of his Love; yet he would not lose such a favourable opportunity, for as soon as the first compliments of common civility were performed, and when he had expressed his sorrows for being so long absent from her, also his joys now to see her, and to see her fairer than ever. If it had pleased the same Gods who give you that lustre Madam (said he unto her) to have also rendered you a little more affable, I should be the most happy man upon earth, I should forget all the sorrows I have suffered, and should think upon nothing but adoring you with delight and reverence. The Princess hearing Abradates say so, and knowing very well by the air wherewith he spoke, that the same passion was in his heart which he expressed in his words, her mind was much divided. On the other side, she was not sorry Abradates loved her; and on the other side, considering her Father's charge, she thought it not permittable to entertain his passion. In the mean time, not being able to fix her resolutions, she took the middle way, and without either too much affability, or incivility, she ordered her conversation so, as Abradates did neither presume, nor despair; yet questionless he observed, how her Spirits were not so free and genuine as they were accustomed, but he could not penetrate into the cause. At his departure from her, he went u●to Doralisa, whom he highly esteemed, and looked upon her, as one whom the Princess loved, to the end he might throughly inform himself by his discourse with her, whether Mexaris had reaped any benefit by his absence. Doralisa was ingenuously free to discover what he had desired to know, and told him, that Mexaris was worse in the opinion of Panthea then ever. Moreover (said she unto him) I believe that Prince is not more in Love then he was when you departed, for I am sure he is not more liberal: Also I have used my best arguments to persuade the Princess, that he stayed here behind you, rather to keep and preserve his Treasures, then either for any Love to her, or any reason of State, as he would make her believe he did. Ah Doralisa, said Abradates, you do so fully satisfy my wishes in telling me what I desire to know, that I am afraid you only invent it to please me: You cannot choose but confess, replied Doralisa, and laughed, that in probability the Prince Abradates is much more esteemed than Mexaris: I know not whether it be probable or no, replied he, but I wish with all my soul it were true: If that be all which wants to make you happy, replied she, then be so, since I do not think there is any one in all the Court who does not esteem you above Mexaris, without any exception of himself, for indeed you are so terrible unto him, that he fears you. Since it is your goodness to answer me so favourably in all things, said he unto her. I am almost emboldened to ask you other questions, which rather than my life I desire to know. Since perhaps I do not know the state of those things which you would inquire of; replied she, so well as I did those unto which I have already answered: My replies unto them will neither be so pleasing, nor so certain. Ha Doralisa, said he, you do most precisely know upon what terms I stand in the opinion of that Princess whom I infinitely adore: Have I not already told you, replied she, that she esteems you more than she doth Mexaris? Yes, replied he: But after a more serious examination of that discourse, which at first did much joy me, I find that to be esteemed a little more than that Prince whom she esteems not at all, is no very great favour; Therefore Doralisa, since you have already engaged me so far, as to tell me thus much, and since the violence of my Love forces me to speak of that which takes up all my thoughts, I most earnestly beseech you, be so generous as to tell me, whether I must die in despair, or live in any hope? Sir, said she unto him, you ask me more than I know, and by consequence more than I can tell you: If I should judge according to your merit, and by the mind of the Princess which is able to discern a complete man, I should believe that her choice would be of you; but if I judge according to the capritiousness of Fortune, who makes them that most merit to be happy, most miserable, there is cause to fear that many things will cross your desires. Fortune, replied he, may doubtless so frown upon me, that I may never enjoy Panthea: But this Fortune ought not to make any alteration in her heart and thoughts, which is the thing I desire to know. Since I did never precisely ask her what what she thought of you, (replied Doralisa) I can tell you nothing of certainty: All I can say is, that knowing Panthea so judicious as she is, I think if you do not prosper in your desires, it will be rather through the fantasticalness of another, then through any aversion she hath towards you. Abradates' perceived that Doralisa would not any further explain herself, but he conceived that she knew he should be crossed in his Love. Doralisa the next morning went betimes unto the Princess, and told her all that the Prince had said, and desired to know from her what answers she should hereafter return him, for she imagined that further discourse might be upon the same Subject. You shall always tell him, replied the Princess, that you are not acquainted with my thoughts, and that you will not undertake to bring any message from him to me. But Madam, replied Doralisa, I hope you will permit me to tell him (what you desire I should) in such a manner of air, as I may a little better explain your meaning. As for the tone of your voice, replied Panthea, and laughed, I will not regulate you, since I do not think there is any in the world who has a better art to tell things angrily without any harsh words than you, nor who can express any thing more sweetly without any gross flattery. It is not your pleasure Madam, replied Doralisa, that in telling Abradates I do not know your thoughts, I should tell it in such a manner, as if I knew you had an aversion towards him; and it would be an inrepairable injury in him to Love you with a most respective passion? No, replied the Princess; nor on the other side would I have you to tell it in such a manner as may let him think, that if you do not tell him my thoughts, it is because they are very advantageous for him: What then, would you precisely have me make him think? (said Doralisa.) I would have him think (answered Panthea) that without any suspicion of subtlety in your words, you dare not speak unto me of him, and that you do not at all know the secrets of my heart concerning him, and without any persuasions of him that I am any thing averse, to make him think there is much difficulty in the enterprise; and in sum, that without either making him hate me, or accuse me of his misfortune, or suspecting me of any weakness, I may still have his esteem, and live in quiet. Ha Madam, said Doralisa, if all these must be interpreted by the sound of a voice only, I had need to send for all the Phrygian and Lydian Music about Abradates to help me in the expression of all these passions without any words: For seriously Madam, I cannot do all this, but I must either create hopes or fears in Abradates: Then infuse fears, (said the Princess, and sighed.) Doralisa, who thitherto did but jest with the Princess, according to that usual freedom the Princess gave her, perceiving that the Princess sighed, assumed a more serious look; and Panthea acquainting her with all that the Prince her Father had said unto her, than she considered that great circumspection was to be used in speaking unto Abradates, for she conceived it not convenient to let him know that Mexaris was the man who thwarted his design, lest some bad consequences might thereupon arise, and she knew also that the Princess would not have him think she slighted him: So that Doralisa undertaking the transaction of this negotiation, she did manage it with much discretion, and for some days did so suspend the Spirit of Abradates, that he knew not what to think. In the mean while Perinthus, who heard it from the mouth of the Princess, that nothing was more extravagant than Love between persons of unequal quality, was so excessively sad, that many days could not dissipate the melancholy which these words (spoken without any design) had infused into his soul; his sorrows were so excessive, that all the world took notice of the alteration in his humour: The Princess herself perceived it, and as he was one morning with her, and Doralisa there also, Panthea asked her, If in the opinion which he held, that Love only makes complete men, she thought, that when they cease to Love, they cease to have any amiable quality left in them: For if so, said the Princess, it must be concluded that Perinthus of late hath ceased to Love, since his conversation is not as it was wont to be. No, no, Madam, said Doralisa, it is not so; for he who was once made complete by virtue of Love, remains so all his life. True it is yet, that this passion which adds a hundred excellent qualities, may sometimes become too too violent, and cause him in whom it reigns to be less pleasant in his conversation, and even transform him from what he is. But Madam, I am so far from thinking Perinthus less sociable, because he hath ceased to love, that on the contrary I am persuaded he is more in Love then ever, or perhaps he is less loved than ever; for commonly where one is possessed with this passion, it is rather from the thoughts of another then from his own, that he becomes unhappy. But yet Doralisa, said the Princess, you have not yet made that discovery which you vaunted to do so easily: It is true Madam, replied she, that I am not yet satisfied whether or no some suspicions I have be well grounded. I pray, said the Princess, acquaint me with those suspicions. Ah Doralisa (cried Perinthus, who feared she would tell Panthea the passages which were before the siege of Ephesus) there are some things which are not to be jested with, and I hope you are so good as you will not so cruelly disoblige me, as to impart that for certainty which you take up on bare surmise, without any appearances. This extraordinary care which you take to prevent my speaking of it, said Doralisa, may be an argument I am not deceived: But however, said she, I will impose silence upon myself. The Princess then began to press Doralisa to tell her what she suspected, but notwithstanding all her importunity, she could not prevail: However, she raised a thousand apprehensions of fear in Perinthus, but yet without cause, for the principal reason which kept Doralisa from telling the Princess what she thought, was, lest the Princess should take it ill she should ever imagine that such a man as Perinthus should dare to look upon the Princess in that way of Love. Whilst this conversation passed on in this manner, Doralisa observed so much agitation in the eyes of Perinthus, that whilst one came into the Room upon some business to the Princess, she addressed herself unto him, and told him, that he had much confirmed her in her suspicions: Why Doralisa, said he, would you have me suffer you to tell such a thing as this unto the most severe Princess upon earth? Really you made my heart tremble as much as if you were ready to put me out of the favour of her whom you say I Love: Perinthus very subtly spoke this with as much freedom of Spirit in appearance, that he much amazed Doralisa, and persuaded her she was mistaken. Thus Madam did things stand at this present; Abradates was fuller of fears than hopes, Mexaris on the contrary hoped all, and feared nothing, Perinthus having neither hopes nor fears, concluded himself the most unfortunate man alive. As for the Princess, she had as strong an aversion to Mexaris, as she had an inclination to Abradates, and was as friendly to Perinthus, as she was either to Doralisa or myself. But whilst Mexaris was taking thought which way he might obtain the Kings leave to marry Panthea, and whilst Abradates thought to strengthen himself by the friendship of Cleander, the conspiracy of Antaleon was discovered, which made so great a noise, that I believe you are not ignorant of it, for it was the whole discourse of all the Court for a long time: But Madam, to see the difference which was between the souls of Mexaris and Abradates. The first of these did secretly endeavour to make Croessus believe that this Prince had a hand in the conspiracy, but do what mischief he could, the King would never entertain the least suspicion of it: But as for Abradates, his soul was of a more Noble temper; for there chanced to be two men who had been servants to Mexaris, and had received no wages from him; these men seeing the liberality of Abradates, and knowing him to be a Rival unto their Master, addressed themselves unto him, and told him, that if he pleased they could accuse their Master of such a crime as would set him far enough from Court: These two men, whose souls were as vile, as Mexaris was covetous, made this Proposition unto him: Abradates heard them with horror, and did contemptiously reject them, and their offer: And afterwards, since I believe (said he unto them) that you were not induced to so vile an act, but because the avarice of your Master hath made you poor, I will put you into a condition wherein you may chance find out a better than he was, and not be forced to commit crimes for a subsistence; and then he caused greater rewards to be given unto them, than they ever could have hoped for, if though he had employed them in the business, which they proposed unto him: They were so surprised with this generosity, and so ashamed of their own perfidy, that they could hardly resolve to accept of this offer, yet at last they did, but how magnanimous soever this action was, it had never been known, had not these two fellows quarrelled about dividing this Largess, and the one killed the other in the going from the house of Abradates; so that the murderer being apprehended, and brought into the hands of Justice, where pressed by the remorse of his own conscience, he confessed the true cause of his crime; so that by this accident, the Heroic action of Abradates came to be divulged to all the world, and particularly to Mexaris, who gave him but a cold compliment for it. As for the Princess, her joy at it was so great, that she could not choose but tell Abradates of it, and commend his generosity: Madam, said he unto her, I know no reason you have to commend me so highly, for it is no such excessive virtue to prevent the doing of a bad action; yet if the act be considered in another respect, which is matter of Rivalship, in that I should not consent to have him set out of my way, it may be thought a little virtue in me, if I had not a more noble way to rid myself of my enemies when they urge me unto it. Ah Abradates, said she unto him, you will urge me to chide you in lieu of giving you any commendations: I beseech you then Madam, replied he, give me some assurance that the joys which you express is not because I would not give way that the Prince Mexaris should be sent further from you: I will most certainly assure you, answered she, upon condition you will promise me to avoid all manner of quarrels with that Prince as much as possible you can: Before I make such a promise, replied he, the Princess of Clasomena must give me some assurance, that she will look with a favourable eye upon me, otherwise I must confess, my despair may provoke me to take revenge upon my Rival for all the rigours of my Mistress: That would a piece of high injustice, replied she, to punish him who is not in the fault; and therefore it were better (said she, and blushed) to cast off her that is so severe: Yes Madam (said Abradates) so I would, if I could, and not cast off my life with her: But Madam, I love you not so little, as that I can desire to love you less; but on the contrary, though I love you as much as for my soul I can, yet methinks I love you not enough: Yet truly I should think myself much obliged unto you, replied she, if you would look upon me with more indifferency than you do: Believe me Madam, replied he, you would never thank me for giving you that satisfaction: But inhuman Lady, Is it possible that the purest and most adoring passion that ever was, can offend you? If it do not offend me, replied she, yet it must be confessed that at the least it disquiets me, and therefore I should be very glad you would only esteem me: You may as well add, answered he, that you wish that I had neither eyes nor reason, for otherwise you desire impossibilities; for as long as I have my sight, I shall find you the fairest of your sex, and as long as I have my reason free, I shall admire you as the wonder of Nature and the world, and without either eyes or reason, certainly I should still adore you: Yes Madam, my heart is totally yours, and my Love of you, and none but you, is grown to such an engrafted custom, that though my tears should blind me, and my sorrows sink me out of my wits, yet my very pace would conduct me to you: Judge then Madam, I beseech you, whether it be possible I should only esteem you: No, no, Madam, there is no possibility in it, I never had strength enough to resist the All-commanding power of your Charms, since I first had the honour to see you in the Wood, and by the Fountain: Take it not ill therefore I most humbly conjure you, that I persevere in loving you as long as I have life: If your goodness and pity could resolve to afford any testimonies of a particular affection, I will promise to lay open my heart and soul unto you, and never to think upon any designs but such as you are pleased to infuse, nor ever to meddle with the Prince Mexaris but according unto your Dictates; but if on the contrary, you persevere in that severity which of late you have used towards me, it shall go hard (notwithstanding the respects I owe unto the Brother of Croessus, or the Queen of Susiana) if I do not find out ways of revenge upon him whom I think to be the cause of my misfortune. It seems (said the Princess then) that my assurance of you, that the Prince Mexaris is not in any favour with me will take away from you all cause of quarrel with him: It seems Madam (replied he) that since in consideration of him, the Prince your Father does treat me worse than heretofore, there needs no other reason to induce me to ruin him: Yet if I have any power with you, said Panthea, you shall attempt nothing against him. Since it is your command Madam, that for the Love of you I must respect my Rival, I beseech you for the Love of me, give me some obliging comfort. Provided you will punctually obey me (answered Panthea, and smiled) I will pardon all which you have said this day: I shall obey you Madam (answered he) upon this condition, that you will please to permit me often to take new commands from your own mouth, for otherwise I am afraid I shall fail in my promise. As Panthea was ready to reply, Cleander entered, and caused the Princess to change the discourse, who since that day did by little and little accustom herself to hear Abradates complain unto her of those miseries which she herself had caused: It was her will also, that Doralisa and myself should sweeten those bitter thoughts which he had of the Prince Mexaris; for though the Princess had confessed unto him, that she esteemed him more than any in the world, yet she always constantly told him, that she could not resolve to disobey her Father; and therefore all that she could do for him, was to promise, that she would deny him as far as decency would permit. Some hopes he had also that Mexaris would not prosper in his design, because Cleander assured him, that Croessus would certainly oppose that Alliance out of some reasons of State, and promised him that he would confirm him in that opinion so effectually, as Mexaris should never bring his hopes to pass. These promises and assurances did much lessen the fears of Abradates: Since he knew Perinthus to be a Favourite of the Prince of Clasomena, he Courted him very much with a hundred compliments: The Princess also was very glad that Perinthus had the Love of Abradates, and often bade him speak as much as he could in his favour: But the more testimonies of esteem she expressed unto this Prince, the more violent designs did he forge in his heart to ruin him: But for all this, as he was a man of a generous Spirit, he was sometimes ashamed of his own weakness, and of the injustice of his thoughts; yet Love being too strong a Master, he could not choose but grieve more at the passion of Abradates, then at that of Mexaris. In the mean time, since there was a good correspondency between Panthea and Abradates, it was her desire he should be more reserved in his visits, to the end she might better persuade the Prince her Father that she was obedient as concerning Abradates; and that she might have more reason to resist him, in case he would needs force her to marry Mexaris; yet did he see her every day, either at the Prince of Lydia's lodging, or at Doralisa's. Thus did things rest, until the Prince Abradates lost a great friend, and maintainer of the illustrious Cleander, who as you are not ignorant was arrested as a Prisoner. This accident raised a greater disorder in the Court than I know how to express, for there was not one (except Mexaris, who looking upon him as the Protector of Abradates, was glad of his disgrace) who had not eyes full of tears, and who did not accuse Croessus of much precipitation and injustice, for suspecting him upon such slight surmizes, a man who had made him a Debtor for so many Victories: But the tears for Cleander were no sooner dried, but all eyes were swelled again with new ones for the Princess Palmis, who was also arrested, and carried to Ephesus amongst the professed Votaries. After all this, Mexaris began to huff, and look big, with more authority then usual; and Croessus knew very well that Cleander, whom he would not acknowledge for the Prince Artamas, was very serviceable unto him, to make all the Grandees of his Dominions respectively obedient unto him. But now Mexaris began to speak of his Marriage, as a match almost made up; and since it was not to be imagined he would speak so, unless he had some assurance of it from Croessus, those who told Abradates of it spoke so confidently, as if it were out of any question; So that he in an absolute despair went unto Doralisa, who being than not well, the Princess came to see her. It is impossible Madam I should tell you all that Abradates spoke that day unto the Princess, for he spoke so much, that she had much ado to answer. Sometimes he would find fault with her lue-warmness towards him, sometimes he would conjure her to assist him; presently after, he would beseech her to cast off Mexaris. Thus passing from one discourse to another, without varying from the same subject, they passed away all the Afternoon, and nothing was resolved upon till Doralisa began to speak. Madam (said she unto Panthea) Why do you not employ Perinthus unto the Prince your Father, you know he is very prevalent with him: 'Tis true, said Panthea, But I will not discover my heart unto so many men, until the utmost extremity; Yet I promise you, said she, If the business be arrived at such a height as Abradates speaks of, I shall strive with myself to speak unto Perinthus, that he would transact with the Prince my Father against Mexaris. Will you not be pleased to move him also in behalf of Abradates, said this Prince unto her? That's more than I can do, replied she, and I should but deceive you if I should promise it. In the mean time, Perinthus hearing as others did, that Mexaris gave out, as if he were to marry Panthea out of hand; and knowing moreover from the Prince of Clasomena, that Mexaris assured he was not now upon such terms as to fear Croessus would be an obstacle, as he did whilst Prince Atis was alive, or before the imprisonment of Cleander, therefore Perinthus thought himself in some danger from thence, as long as his business was to defeat the designs of a beloved Lover, he thought it advantageous, that Mexaris should be preferred before Abradates: But as soon as he heard Mexaris talk of marrying Panthea, his desires were to defeat the designs of him whose interest he advanced before. Afterwards considering with himself what a miserable misfortune it would be unto the Princess, to marry a Prince, against whom he knew she had a most unalterable aversion, he repented of all he had done; and when he understood that the match was made, and the Marriage ready to be performed, he fell into a most horrid despair, and offered above a hundred times to go and confess all his crimes unto the Princess, and then kill himself at her feet: For, would he say, What have I to do but die, since I can never be happy, and since I cannot live, unless I hinder the happiness of the only person whom I love? But (sometimes would he say) Why than cannot I give my consent she should marry Mexaris? For since I am most certain that I myself can never pretend unto her, there can no better way be found to take her quite from Abradates, then to bestow her for ever unto Mexaris: But then, (would he say presently after) Is not Mexaris my Rival as much as the other? And is it sufferable that any one should marry the person one Loves? Ha! no, no, my design was never that Panthea should be the wife of Mexaris: I would have Abradates defeated in his design of her, but I would never have her bestowed upon his Rival and mine: Then (would he say after) upon better thoughts, Is it just, that to lessen my own miseries a little, I should render that Princess whom I adore, the most unfortunate person upon earth? She, I say, who has given me a thousand testimonies of her favour and esteem, unto whom I never did, nor durst discover my passion: She, I say, against whom I cannot complain, though she should for ever banish me, if I should presume to tell her that I loved her; and she who might without injustice hate me, if she knew what I did against her. In the mean time, I cannot allow her to be the wife of Abradates; and since I cannot enjoy her whom I do love, there is some Justice that she who infused that cruel passion into my heart, should taste of the same misery, in never marrying Abradates. After he had thus discoursed upon the matter, and considered the present state of things, he phancied a course, by which he thought he might prevent both Mexaris and Abradates from marrying Panthea; and this was his project. Since the commitment of Cleander, Andramites, who conducted the Princess Mandana, and the Princess Palmis from Ephesus to Sardis, was in great favour with Croessus, and a particular friend unto Perinthus, who was with him every day, as well because they often met together at Court, as because Andramites being a Lover of Doralisa, he Courted her, and followed her in all places, and by consequence was very oft at the Prince of Clasomena's lodging, where Perinthus was a daily guest. This secret Lover than did proceit to prejudice Abradates in the opinion of Panthea's Father, and to prejudice Mexaris also by the intercession of Andramites, whom he designed to employ unto Croessus: And not to defer the execution of his resolves, he went to find out his friend: He told him, that the Princess Panthea having an invincible aversion to the Prince Mexaris, she had employed him to find out some course to defeat all the designs which he had upon her, and that he knew of no better way than addresses unto him, that he would be pleased to negotiate so with Croessus, that he should not approve or consent unto the match. Andramites, who loved Perinthus, and who hoped for some good offices from him towards Doralisa; and who moreover knew that Croessus had reason to dislike the Marriage between Mexaris and Panthea, did promise him to negotiate so effectually, that he would absolutely hinder Mexaris from ever Marrying the Princess by the consent of Croessus, for he knew the dislike of that Prince unto this Alliance. Perinthus returned thanks with abundance of joy, and stayed not long for accomplishment of his hopes, for within two days after, Croessus did forbid Mexaris from thinking of any Marriage with Panthea, proposing unto him another match. Since Mexaris was resolved to look more high then formerly he used, he took this language very fiercely: But Croessus being transported with anger at an answer of so little respect, did talk unto him with such Authority, that Mexaris was glad to submit to be silent, and to retire, and I believe he would have left Sardis, if his Love to Panthea had not stayed him. In the mean time, fearing the Prince of Clasomena should cool upon the matter, he went unto him, assuring him that he should ere long prevail with the King, and conjuring him not to alter his intentions: The truth is, the Prince of Clasomena saw Mexaris so near unto the Crown, that he promised him what he could desire. You may imagine Madam, how great was the joy of Panthea, when she heard of all the passages between Croessus and Mexaris, and how Abradates was ravished at the defeat of his Rival: Since they knew not from whence this good fortune should proceed, they did attribute it only unto Croessus, who out of reasons of State did dislike and oppose the Marriage; So that the first private meeting which Abradates had with Doralisa about it, we consumed two whole hours in discourse of nothing else, and rejoicing at it. In the mean while, whilst Andramites was thus negotiating with Croessus against Mexaris, Perinthus transacted secretly against Abradates with the Prince of Clasomena; So that hoping to hinder both Princes from enjoying that person whom both they and he loved, he became more jocand and sociable than he used to be. Mexaris for his part, considering what courses were most expedient to take, seemed to comply unto the King's commands, seeming to smother the passion which was in his soul, though his intentions always were to marry Panthea, and so he assured the Prince her Father in secret. Whilst these things were thus carried on, Andramites, who was deeply in Love with Doralisa, (and had been so before he married that fair one, who died about a year since) desired Perinthus to do him all the good offices he could unto Doralisa, which Perinthus promised to do; and further telling him, that if his own endeavours would not prevail, he would beseech the Princess to favour his desires. Thus was Perinthus engaged to return the favours of Andramites; so that he set himself not only to speak in his advantage unto Doralisa, but he desired me also to speak, which accordingly I did upon the first fit opportunity, though I told her it was at the instance of Perinthus. I think Madam, that I told you already, Doralisa did much esteem Perinthus; and perhaps, if she had been able to infuse such thoughts into his heart as she desired, he should have been tender enough towards her; and sin●e it was so, it may easily be imagined, that though he was importunate in behalf of Andramites, yet he was so far from serving him, that he did rather did prejudice him, yet did she return no uncivil answers, but in such a manner as he might easily see he did not very great good office for his friend. Then Madam, to perplex Perinthus the more, It chanced, that the Princess, who breathed some hopes to marry the Prince Abradat●s, and did foresee that she should then leave Sardis, she resolved by no means to lose Doralisa, and therefore did project to marrry her unto Perinthus, since she knew that Doralisa did much esteem him, she made no question, but if he could or would express any affection to her, she would receive him very favourably. So that at his going out of Doralisa's house, where he had been to solicit in behalf of Andramit●s, he received command to come unto the Princess: He was no sooner with her, but she told him that she would give him some testimonies of her friendship. I have received so many already Madam, said he unto her, that I need not wonder to find you so full of goodness: But do what I can Madam, I am afraid I shall die in ingratitude. You may soon acquit yourself in point of gratitude (said she) if you please. I most humbly beseech you Madam (said he in haste) tell me which way? By applying yourself a little more unto Doralisa (said she unto him,) for Perinthus, you will much oblige me, if you look upon her as one whom I desire you to marry, to the end I may not lose her; and that engaging you both in my service, we may be for ever inseparable: I am sure (said she, and would not give him time to speak) that Doralisa for all her talk does not think you in love, no more than I do; therefore knowing how much you esteem her, and what the merit and fortune of this person is, I do not think this an unjust Proposition, nor that you ought to refuse it.  
Panthea having ended her speech, and Perinthus returned out of that maze which the motion of the Princess had put him into, he answered her with no less subtlety than civility, though with most sensible sorrow. I think myself most unhappy Madam (said he unto her) that you should desire of me such things as are both unjust and impossible; though you believe it to be so just and easy, yet it is neither the one nor the other. Why Perinthus (said the Princess) is it any Injustice that one that is a most accomplished man, and one whose Soul is not already engaged, should marry the most amiable and sprightly woman upon Earth, and one who wishing for a heart that never was in love, finds such a one in you? Yet Madam, replied he, though I were such a one as you speak, I should never please her; for Doralisa expects to be loved, and truly I cannot love her otherwise then I should do a Sister. Yet I pray you seem as if you did more (replied the Princess) and I shall think myself much obliged; and though at the first you can love her no otherwise then as a Sister, yet time may make you love her as your Wife. Truly Madam, replied he, I cannot do more; for not knowing you had any such design as this, I have spoke unto her with extreme zeal in behalf of Andramites, who is ready to die for love of her; and who is not only every way a more accomplished man then myself, but is a man of much better fortunes than I: therefore Madam, though I should take upon me to dissemble a love, it would be to little purpose after all this: moreover, What might Andramites think of my false proceeding? and when you have well thought upon it, what would yourself think of me? Ha Perinthus (said the Princess) though you will not obey me, yet however let me entreat you not to solicit for Andramites; for if it be possible I would not have Doralisa married in Sardis. If the Prince Mexaris marry you (said Perinthus to her) you will not lose her though she marry Andramites. 'Tis true, said she, but thanks be to the Gods I shall never marry him; but I have some Reasons to think I shall ere long leave Sardis, and return into Clasomena. If the Prince Abradates (said he to discover her mind) should be so happy as to marry you, he would not carry you to Susa, for his affairs are not so well composed for it; and I do not know whether or no Croessus would suffer him to devil in Clasomena. However it be (said the Princess and blushed) I would not have Andramites marry Doralisa, but wish with all my heart Perinthus would marry her. I cannot betray my trust Madam, said he to her and sighed. I cannot conceive (replied the Princess) but since you esteem Doralisa so much as you do, and also loves her, as you say, as much as if she were your Sister, but you may very easily obey me: For, as for Andrami●es, added she, I will undertake to give him satisfaction. As she was saying so, Doralisa entered, who finding Perinthus alone with her, and imagining that he was desiring her to speak in favour of Andramites: For Heaven's sake Madam, said she unto Panthea, do me the favour to tell me whether I was not the subject of your discourse? Indeed you were, replied the Princess, and that so much, that we spoke of nothing else. I do imagine, replied Doralisa, that Perinthus, to testify unto you as well as unto me, that I have not very great share in his heart, hath desired you to solicit me in behalf of Andramites: but Madam, if he have, I beseech you deny him, for I do not know that man in the World which I would not marry before him: Yet he is a most complete man, replied Perinthus. 'Tis true, said she; but since questionless he loved the Lady which he married, who indeed was very fair and amiable he is not fit for my purpose, since I am resolved to have none but such a one as never loved any but myself. As she pronounced this last word, Andramites entered, who easily perceived that the endeaors of Perinthus had not been very propitious; for Doralisa, whose spirits were incensed, not knowing very well at what, did jeer that day extremely, and so much the more, because she observed it pleased the Princess. Within a while after, much company coming in, and Andramites talking to her in a low voice, she brought him unto such a pass, as he did protest unto her, that he never loved any but her, no not his wife which he married. Fie Andramites (cried she out) how is it possible than you should ever love me, me I say, who am neither so fair nor lovely as she was: Then would he have told her that he could not love his Wife, because he loved her at that same time, and that he never would have married her, but in obedience to his father: yet all these were but cold arguments to help him; for she being tickled with the passage that he should tell her he never loved his Wife, and seeing all the company departed but Perinthus and Andramites, she began to laugh and jeer, and tell him as much as ever the most improsperous Lover could possibly deserve: and since it was a most odd kind of Compliment, that one who would persuade another to marry him, should tell her he never loved his Wife, the Princess could not choose but laugh also. But though Andramites would excuse all by saying, the Reason was because he could love none but her, yet all his arguments would not serve. Perinthus also, desiring to testify unto his friend that he was as zealous in his behalf as he could, did maintain that Doralisa was much beholding to him for loving her better than his Wife, or for loving her so much that he could not love his Wife at all. But all the arguments they both could devise, were not able to convince Doralisa. Perinthus was much perplexed, for he durst not speak so zealously in behalf of his friend, as he should if the Princess had not spoke unto him; for he was afraid to speak much to his advantage, lest he should incense her so, that he thought himself in a straight confinement. After this, the Princess was often persuading Perinthus to alter his design, but she found him still in an unalterable obstinacy: she did not yet acquaint Doralisa with her project: I only did know of it; for she being still in hopes to change his mind, she would not tell Doralisa what resistance she found in him. In the mean while Perinthus durst hardly look either upon the Princess or Doralisa, but fell into an extreme melancholy: As for Abradates, since his liberality had won him all the servants belonging to the Prince of Clasomena, he was informed by them who heard Perinthus speak unto his Master, that he did solicit for Mexaris with all his zeal: so that going the very same hour unto Doralisa to ask her advice whether he should acquaint the Princess with it, or speak unto Perinthus, he there understood by Andramites that it was Perinthus also which moved him to induce Croessus unto the hindrance of the marriage between Mexaris and Panthea: for though Doralisa did treat him very coarsely, yet sometimes she would make him tell her any thing she desired to know: so that Abradates imparted unto her all that he knew, and she afterwards all that Andramites told her unto him; and since these two things were contraries, yet seemed most certain they did extremely perplex him. Then they determined not to believe any thing, nor to resolve upon any course, until they knew what the Princess conceived upon the matter. Doralisa went presently to her, and told all that both Abradates and herself did know; and particularly how Andramites (thinking doubtless to do a good office to Perinthus and himself also) told her that it was by his negotiation that Mexaris was out of favour with Croessus. Truly, replied the Princess, if what Andramites reports be true, I am much obliged unto Perinthus; and if that which is told unto Abradates be true, I have great cause of complaint against him, since he knows I cannot endure Mexaris. That which admires me most, said the Princess, is, that he who informed Abradates that Perinthus did solicit for Mexaris, is not a man likely to tell a lie; therefore I rather think it to be Andramites who tells the untruth. No Madam, said Doralisa, certainly Andramites did not invent it. Then must I be satisfied of my doubts (replied the Princess) from Perinthus himself; for I know him to be a man of honour and sincerity, who I am fully persuaded will confess the truth of any thing whatsoever: So that deferring no longer, she sent for Perinthus; and Doralisa coming into my Chamber, she left Panthea at liberty to examine Perinthus. As soon as he was come, she looked attentively upon him; I pray Perinthus (said she unto him) tell me whether I must chide you or thank you? I think Madam, replied he, you have not reason to do either; since I do not remember I ever did you any considerable service to deserve the one, and since I am sure I never intended to displease you so far as to deserve the other: Nevertheless, said she, I am informed by one that you have done me an extraordinary piece of service; and by another, that you have been extremely perfidious: Tell me therefore Perinthus, have you obliged or disobliged me? However I promise you to pardon the crime if you confess it: Tell me then Perinthus, what I must think of you? Madam, said he unto her, when I shall know whereof I am accused, I will see if I can justify myself. To show you (said she unto him) That I had rather commend then accuse you: Tell me first whether it is to you that I am obliged for causing Croessus to be so sharp with Mexaris? It is very true Madam (replied he) that since I could not think Mexaris worthy of you, and having observed a great aversion in you towards him, I induced Andramites to speak unto Croessus that he would break off that Marriage, which I knew would displease you. Thus far, replied Panthea, I am much obliged to you: But why then, in speaking unto the Prince my Father, did you not negotiate according to my mind? And why were you such a defender of Mexar●s to him?  
Perinthus hearing the Princess, did change colour, and she perceiving the alteration which appeared in his eyes, knew by it that there was some truth in the reports; yet notwithstanding, since Love is never without an excuse for any crime, Perinthus found one: I must confess Madam (said he unto her) that your intelligence is good, and that in certain occasions, wherein the Prince your Father was pleased to intimate unto me how fully he was resolved to marry you unto the Prince Mexaris, I did not directly oppose his intentions, and my reason was, because I knew that it was not in his power to execute them: Then did I persuade him as well as I could, not to suffer this Prince to marry you without the consent of Croessus, which I knew he could not obtain: I did sometimes agree with him that Mexaris was a great Prince, who in all likelihood one day would be King of Lydia: So that Madam, without any prejudice unto your interests, I preserved myself in his favour, but did not deprive myself of any means to do you any serviceable office to him when occasion should serve. Your answer (replied the Princess) is full of wit, and seems also to be true, since there is no likely reasons why you should negotiate two contraries at one time: But yet since there is something in your proceeding which is not suitable to your usual manner of transacting, you shall repair the fault, by answering me ingenuously to what I shall ask you; therefore if you will persuade me that your intentions were clear, give me an exact and faithful account of all that the Prince my Father said unto you, concerning me; for since I shall never attempt any thing against his pleasure, and since I never look but to be miserable, I do not think my demand of you is unjust. I do promise you Madam (said he very craftily) to tell you every thing which he said concerning the Prince Mexaris. Do not alter my words, replied the Princess, but engage yourself to tell me all that he said concerning me. Perinthus, who knew well the Princess would not have spoke so, but because she would know what the Prince her Father said unto him concerning Abradates, he was so non-plused, that he knew not what to answer; but at the last, since she pressed him very much; I am so afraid (said he unto her) to tell you any thing which shall not please, that I am sorry to be engaged unto what you desire me: The Princess wished she had the hardiness to let him know that she should be no less obliged unto him for speaking in behalf of Abradates, as for speaking against Mexaris, but he could not do it; and I believe if she had made that prayer unto him, he would either have sunk down with sorrows, or else have expressed such marks of his passion as she would have perceived it. After this discourse, Panthea did really believe that Perinthus had no other intentions but to employ his fortunes in serving her, and possessed Abradates with the same opinion: But as for Doralisa, she was not so easily persuaded into that belief, but on the contrary, all her suspicions of the passion of Perinthus began to revive in her mind; yet since she did really esteem him, she said nothing to the Princess lest she should injure him, yet she could not choose but impart her thoughts unto me, after she had made me promise her secrecy: At the first, I could not believe her serious, but afterwards my suspicions were stronger than hers; I absolutely concurred with the opinion of Doralisa, and resolved as well as she, not to prejudice so excellent a qualified man as Perinthus was upon bare suspicions, which perhaps were ill-grounded, since they were built only upon conjectures, which often are fallacious, and therefore I resolved peremptorily not to speak a word of any thing to the Princess; yet notwithstanding, since this might grow unto some bad consequences, we resolved to observe him very circumspectly, and to inform each other of our discoveries: I confess Madam, that I committed one piece of lightness in this business, in telling Doralisa of that Proposition which the Princess made unto him concerning her Marriage; but methought it so manifest a testimony of that passion which we suspected, as I could not keep it from her: I had no sooner told it, but I wished it in again, yet not long; not that I told it unto her in such a manner as might give her any cause of complaint; yet for all that, I perceived it touched her so to the quick, that it made her blush. I leave you to consider (said I then unto her to please her) whether Perinthus, esteeming you as he doth, and proffering so much friendship, would not have received that motion which the Princess made with much joy, though he had no love at all towards you, if she had not been in Love with some other, and therefore it must be concluded that he is in Love with another, and that other is certainly the Princess. If he be in Love with Panthea (replied Doralisa) I do pardon him with all my heart for the same passion which he is possessed with, will sufficiently punish him for the folly of it: But if it be with any other, I will be revenged upon him, both for his refusal, and the injury which the Princess hath done me, in making such an offer without acquainting me. Doralisa, maugre her anger, yet knew very well that the intentions of the Princess were very obliging; but however, she would not complain so much against Perinthus, as against her. Since this time, this close Lover could hardly hide himself from us, in all his actions and all his words, we thought we saw evident symptoms of his Love: Also we observed him so closely, that he perceived us, and asked the reason. Since he feared lest the Princess should acquaint Doralisa with those passages which were between them, and fearing also lest she should take them ill, he doubled his civilities towards her, not daring to speak unto her of Andramites, whom Doralisa at the desire of the Princess did treat less severely, since it was by his means Mexaris was crossed in his designs. In the mean while, Mexaris building his hopes upon the word of the Prince of Clasomena, did wait for some favourable opportunity, either to alter the mind of Croessus, or to marry Panthea whether he would or no, if there were no other remedy; so that he lived a life full of anxiety, and hopes of a happy success in his design: Abradates was more happy than he, for being sure of Panthea's heart, that very thought sweeten all his bitter hours, maugre all oppositions and obstacles which crossed his complete happiness: But as for the miserable Perinthus, his life was a constant series of sorrows, yet he had his poor intervals of ease, to think that Panthea neither marrying Mexaris nor Abradates, perhaps would never Marry. He has told me since, that when he thought that such a thing might perhaps be, he was almost as much joyed at the very thought of it, as any Lover could be in the enjoyment of his Mistress. Thus did things rest for a certain time, whilst the Love of Andramites unto Doralisa made conversation very pleasant, since certainly never was any fuller of witty, odd, and gallant expressions than this Lady was unto him, for as he always affirmed, that he had never loved any but her: So she told him always, that if he had loved the wife he had lost, he had not been for her humour; and if he had not loved her, than he was most unjust, since she was very fair and lovely, and by consequence she would never marry one that had been an ill Husband. Upon a day then, when Mexaris and Abradates were both with the Princess, though the last of these came but seldom by the orders of Panthea: Doralisa asked them, since they spoke unto her concerning Andramites, whether she had not good reason to reject the desires of a man, who never dropped a tear for the death of his Wife? If he had seen her die, (said Abradates to her) and never grieved at it, only because he looked upon her as an obstacle unto his design to be loved by you, he is so far from being guilty of insensibility, that you ought to commend his constancy, and to recompense him for it. It is true, said Doralisa, in that respect I am obliged to him; But why would he marry her, if he loved me? And if he did not love me, why did he not grieve for her? But if he should grieve for her, said the Princess, he could not Love you? I confess it, replied she, and he would be more happy in it, if he did not Love me: His happiness would be very mean, replied Mexaris, who should eternally lament the death of one he did love: And I assure you (answered Doralisa, and smiled) that a living Mistress, who is a little fantastical, is as troublesome as any dead wife, though she were the worst in the world: Your arguments, replied Mexaris, are against yourself: There are a sort of slight fancies (said Abradates) which beauties were only as pretty vanities, which are very troublesome to those that love them: And there are some also (replied Mexaris very coldly) unto whom they are advantages, and without reason makes them to be preferred before other, who do not value them: It may chance so, replied Abradates; but I for my part, who owe much respect unto Ladies, and have no less opinion of their judgement then of their wit, I am persuaded the commonly happy Lovers deserve to be so: You have reason doubtless (said Doralisa) and those faultfinding Lovers who never speak but are accusing them they love, either of fantasticalness, or want of Judgement, are certainly both fantastical and indiscreet themselves: such men as these are they who are offended at any trivial matter, and think much better of themselves than they deserve, conceiving high injustice to be done them, if they be not accepted of, and esteemed as much as they esteem themselves.  
It's very true (said the Princess, not being able to forbear) and I know some who do as you say: And I do know some also (said Doralisa) and perhaps the same you mean: but however, since Love is blind as well as Justice, it must operate in the hearts of Ladies as it ought to do in the hearts of Judges, to wit, without Partiality, or Consideration of Greatness, or Quality, or Menaces, or Complaints of Pretenders: It ought to judge equally with equity upon the merit and services of those who offer them. Why then do you not judge in favour of Andramites, replied Abradates? Because I do not find it within the compass of my power, replied she; all the favour that I can do him, is not to judge him at all. Yet since you do believe, said Mexaris, that Love makes all the complete men in the World, why do you not think Andramites very accomplished, since certainly he loves you infinitely? I never said, replied she, that all those who are in love are complete men; but that none can be perfectly complete unless he have been in love: so that it is not for that reason I refuse Andramites, whose merit is very high; but only because if he did love his Wife, I cannot admit of him, since I will have such a heart as never loved any; and if he did not love her, I shall much dislike him, because I conceive it was his duty to love her. The general Rule then, replied Abradates, which saith that Love is a cause of Love, and that he which loveth causeth himself to be loved, holds not true, since Andramites cannot move your heart. The Rule you mention, replied she, is not general, and I should be very sorry it were. But that which hath caused this saying, which is known amongst all Nations, and sometimes found false, is certainly because the true intention and meaning of those who first made it a general Rule, was never understood: for indeed they did never intend that to love one ought infallibly to be loved: but their meaning as well as mine certainly was, that to move another to love it is requisite to be loving: so that in saying unto a man, If thou desirest I should love thee, then love me, I instruct him in the means to obtain his end, and to make that which is good in his heart to appear; and sometimes that which is evil, added the Princess. Love though ought not to be blamed Madam (replied Doralisa) which certainly never infuseth any evil inclinations: And as one cannot complain against the Sun (which I always compare with Love) because it nourisheth a thousand venomous vermin at the very same time that it blancheth the Lilies, and Rubies the Roses: so Love ought not to be accused for the business of some lewd Lovers that are in the World, since it inspires only heroic actions, and causeth men to practise all the virtues, who without this passion were perhaps men of rude Souls: If men be bad, the fault is not in Love, but them: if the dunghill stink when the Sun shines upon it, the fault is not in the Sun, but in the dunghill. The Princess laughed heartily at the expressions of Doralisa, and so did Abradates: But as for Mexaris, he was much nettled; and the more, because Doralisa bolted out a hundred things which touched him to the quick: and once he observed, that when Abradates and Doralisa looked upon one another, they smiled and winked in derision; and that Abradates by a nod of his head seemed to thank Doralisa for all her bitter jeers which she had vented. So that these things exasperating his spirit, he spoke not a word that day, unless some short and sharp words to Abradates, who answered him with as much resolution, as the Respect which he owed unto the Princess, and the Quality of his Rival, would permit him. Since she observed the perplexities of Mexaris, she endeavoured to sweeten the Conversation; and indeed the colour of this Prince seeming to cool a little, she did not suspect any ill consequence of it. They went both from the Princess at the same time, for when Mexaris saw that Abradates was going, he took leave of the Princess also, and would needs be gone, though she desired to stay him: When they were at the bottom of the stairs, Mexaris talked with one of his men in a low voice; and afterwards asked Abradates, if he would walk 〈◊〉 turn in the Gardens of the Palace which were close by; and Abradates answered, he would wait upon him; so they went out; Mexaris being waited upon by eight or ten of his men, and Abradates with the like number. As soon as they were in the Garden, Mexaris carried Abradates into a great Walk, where none were present; and after he had beckoned unto his men that they should not follow, he stood still, and looked upon Abradates with an imperious aspect: I have had intentions a long time (said he unto him) to speak unto you; but my hopes, that of yourself, you would do that which a thousand Reasons require you should, hath moved me to defer it till now, to advertise you, that you do not carry yourself, as the Son unto the Queen of Susiana, my Sister, aught to do: For though my age do not much differ from yours, yet I must exact from you some difference, both as you are my Nephew, and as you are an Exile, come unto this Court for Refuge, where I ought to be preferred before you. Sir (replied Abradates with a bold civility) I do not know that I have failed in any respects which I owe you, either as being son unto the Queen of Susiana, or as I am come for Refuge unto a place where indeed you are very considerable, and therefore I think I may safely say, that your complaints against me are unjust, and your manner of complaint is a little too high. Your daily actions, replied Mexaris, are much more injurious to me, for you cannot be ignorant of my devoted affection unto the Princess of Clasomena, and yet you apply yourself too obsequiously in your Courtship of her. Though the manner of your language, replied Abradates, might perhaps make me excusable, if I should not render you an account of my actions and designs, yet the respect which I owe you as Brother unto the Queen my Mother, and unto the King, who gives me protection in his Court, obligeth me to tell you, that I loved the Princess of Clasomena from the very first instant that ever I saw her, and I did not know any thing of your passion to her, until such time as I was not able to be Commander of my own: Also understanding that Croessus would never approve of your Marriage with her, I conceived it would be no great injury unto you, if I used my best endeavours to obtain a happiness which you could never enjoy. But can you think, said Mexaris, that the same Reason of State, which moves the King not to consent I should marry one who would render me too potent in his Kingdom, will ever permit you who are a stranger to marry her? No, no, Abradates, let not this imagination delude you, but be assured that it is not the will of Croessus you should think of this Alliance: And consider further, if you be wise, that the Prince of Clasomena will never bestow his Daughter upon an exiled Prince. Hitherto, replied Abradates, I have spoke unto you as I am Son unto the Queen of Susiana, as a Prince protected in Lydia, and as Nephew unto the Prince Mexaris; but now I will speak to you as a Lover of Panthea, as one who knows not how to yield unto any, and as one who will love and serve her as long as he lives: The truth is, said he, if the case were so as that the Princess of Clasomena should make choice of you, than I had nothing else to do but die; and I have so high a respect of her, though not of you, as to die without complaint: but since she makes no such choice, be pleased to know, that I will not alter my course. Though you were in Susa, replied Mexaris, and I an Exile protected there as you are in Lydia, you could not speak more haughtily and boldly than you do. I should then speak more mildly, replied Abradates, because I know it unworthy to insult over those that are miserable: And is it not as unworthy (answered Mexaris) to refuse those Respects which are due unto Protectors? I shall never neglect them I owe unto the King of Lydia, replied Abradates; and I am sorry that Love should force me unto that which I do against a Prince so near unto him. I must have better satisfaction (replied Mexaris very fiercely,) for if you do not absolutely renounce Panthea, I must call you to an account with a Sword in your hand. I will do all I can, replied Abradates, to do neither the one nor the other. But you must (answered Mexaris) and that quickly, therefore resolve with yourself which of them you will choose. Since you force me to tell you, replied Abradates, I will preserve Panthea, I will defend myself, and not assault you, unless I must in my own defence: This is all Sir, that either Love or Respect can exact from me: I wish that I were able to yield the Princess of my Soul unto you, but indeed I cannot: and though my resolution is to do nothing against those Respects I owe you, yet will I not do any thing against my Love. When Abradates had said this, he saw Mexaris go towards a thick Bush which grew close by a Crystal Fountain in the middle of a Walk; and that he pulled out two Swords, giving him one, and saying, that since he could not yield Panthea, he should win her if he could, for he would dispute it with him until death. Abradates' at the first would not take it, but only to defend himself from the blows of Mexaris, in whose face he saw so much fury as might well exasperate him: but when he saw that the better language he gave him, and the more he recoiled, the more did his choler augment, and more furiously did he assault him, Love and Jealousy being at last stronger than his respects unto Mexaris, he then kept his ground, and fought like one that would vanquish. In the mean time, since I believe you desire to know how Mexaris could find these two Swords in the Bush; be pleased to remember, that I told you at their going from the Princess, that Prince whispered with one of his servants? and let me tell you, that he then commanded him to carry those two Swords unto the place appointed, which was very remarkable, because of the Fountain near it; and after this command executed, he charged him with another, purposely to send him away from that place, and appointed him to go and seek for a man that dwelled in the furthest part of all Sardis, expressly charging him not to speak a word of these two Swords.  
But as he went out of the Garden to seek this man his Master sent him unto, he met one of the Princess servants at the door, who was his intimate friend, unto whom he imparted his business, and asked his advice, for the servant of Mexaris thought that his Master intended to fight with him he sent for: But the Princess servant having more wit than he, and knowing that Mexaris and Abradates went out together, he suspected some mischief; and after he had advised him rather to return into the Garden, then go upon his message, and to tell his Master how he understood the man he sent him unto was not at home, he himself went hastily unto the Princess, whom he found in discourse with Perinthus, and acquainted her with what he knew: He had no sooner spoke it, but the Princess cried out, and changed colour so much, that Perinthus could not choose but see what a particular interest she took in the life of Abradates; for he knew her cares could not be for the other. I leave you to judge Madam, in what a pitiful perplexity he was, when looking upon the Princess, he saw her eyes all tears, and fears for the death of Abradates; and since she knew, that in such occasions as this, a very minute is precious, she came to Perinthus, entreating him with extreme earnestness: My dear Perinthus (said she unto him) you will infinitely oblige me, if you will go and prevent all mischief that may ensue upon this quarrel; and to oblige you to make more haste, let me tell you, that it will be the most considerable service that I ever enjoined you: You moy easily judge how Perinthus was surprised and vexed at this employment which the Princess did put him upon; he offered to speak two or three times, but the Princess would not hear, but bade him make all haste; So that poor Perinthus much against his mind, went to part two men, whom he would rather have fought with if he durst: True it is, he was not the first that came in, for the clashing of Swords being heard by those who were in other walks, they ran in with all haste, yet came too late also, for the combat was first ended. I shall not relate unto you Madam all the passes of it, it will suffice to tell you, that Abradates was Conqueror, and Mexaris wounded and disarmed, and confessing that Abradates was of an invincible valour. But I beseech you Madam, imagine a little, what might be the cogitations of Perinthus, when in the incertainty of the event of this combat, he went unto these two Princes: He hath since confessed unto me, that he could never compose or reconcile himself unto his own wishes; Sometimes he wished them both killed, sometimes that at least Abradates were vanquished, and sometimes again, finding much injustice and baseness in his wishes, he wished his own death, especially when he reflected upon the sorrows and fears of Panthea, lest any misfortune should befall Abradates: Moreover, to his further misery, he met this illustrious Conqueror of Mexaris, whom one of his friends with chance brought into the Garden, did follow him; and to complete the miseries of Perinthus, Abradates no sooner saw him, but he addressed himself to him: If I can without any incivility (said he unto him) desire you to tell the Princess of Clasomena, that it is she only who hath preserved me from being vanquished by Mexaris, I will desire so much favour from you; and to assure her that I attribute the happy success of my combat, unto the passion which I have towards her. Perinthus was so confounded with this discourse, that he silently harkened unto it, without any other answer then profound reverence. But Abradates taking his silence for a consent unto his desires left him, and went to expect what Croessus would think of his action. In the mean while, many of the Court did transact in his behalf, and amongst the rest Andramites, who to serve Perinthus, had dissuaded Croessus from consenting unto the Marriage between Mexaris and Panthea, did now all he could to appease this Prince, thinking it as serviceable to Perinthus as the other: So that Croessus was so qualified, that he reflected all the fault upon his Brother, and excused Abradates: It was also his pleasure they should embrace each other as soon as Mexaris was recovered: But the most cruel part for Abradates was, that Perinthus moved Andramites to persuade the King, that the only way to prevent all future quarrels between them, was to charge them both equally not to think of any Marriage with Panthea: And Andramites to colour the matter, told Croessus, that the Princess herself was in such fears lest either of these two Princes should come to untimely death, by reason of her, that she herself desired it; so that Croessus charged them both to give over all thoughts of her: 'Tis true, he spoke unto these two Rivals in different manners; for he absolutely commanded Mexaris, and entreated Abradates, treating the one as a Subject, and the other as a Stranger, yet notwithstanding they could not resolve to promise him obedience, saying always, that Love was such a Sovereign passion, as they could not so readily surmount it; yet they spoke this with so much reverence unto Croessus, out of fears to incense him, lest he should send them both out of Sardis, that their resistance did not offend, and Croessus believed they intended obedience, though they protested that they thought it impossible. Thus it happened, that the Conqueror was no happier than the Conquered, and Perinthus was only he who reaped the fruit of Abradates his Victory out of his joys, to hope that the Princess should Marry neither him nor Mexaris: But Madam, the passage was rare, when Perinthus returned to render an account unto the Princess of the combat, for though she heard of others, yet since every one is glad to have repetitions of any thing which pleaseth, or which they have any interest in: Perinthus was no sooner come unto her, Doralisa and myself being present, but she spoke unto him: Well Perinthus (said she unto him with much joy in her eyes) Thanks be to the Gods, the Prince Abradates and the Prince Mexaris are both alive: They are Madam, replied he, but the last of these is wounded: 'Tis true, said she, but since I understand his wounds are not dangerous, I cannot choose but rejoice that their combat proved not more fatal: I conceive Madam, replied he, that whosoever understands the true sense of your words, will think Abradates more glorious in your language, then in his disarming Mexaris. However it be (said she, and blushed) give me an exact relation of the combat. Perinthus now was extremely put to it, and not being able himself to set forth the glory of his Rival, whom he saw was too deep in the heart of his Princess already, he told her, that he could not truly do it, for the friends of Mexaris reported one way, and the friends of Abradates another, but the principal of all was what she knew already, that Abradates received not a wound, and that Mexaris was wounded. It is very strange Perinthus (said Doralisa, and laughed, and who knew as well as I did the true cause why he would not satisfy the Princess) you should be so ill informed of this combat: For my part (said she further to discover his thoughts) had I been at any Ball, and the Princess should precisely ask me what passed there, certainly I should have related every thing with the least circumstance she should know, whether the Hall were ill or well furnished, who danced most, which Ladies were best dressed, and most fair, which of the men was the greatest Gallant, who talked long with such a one, and who with such a one; and she should know every trivial passage of the Assembly so perfectly, as if she were there present. In the mean time, you who are a brave and gallant man in lieu of relating every circumstance, as I could have done, does only tell the Princess that Mexaris is wounded, and that Abradates is Conqueror. 'Tis very true (said the Princess, and smiled) Perinthus is to blame: I should have thought it Madam, replied he, no great discretion to relate a combat unto Ladies, in the same manner as it should be related unto men: It had not been handsome indeed, said Doralisa, to have related Wars and Battles, or your own peculiar Victories: But for a single Duel, and a combat wherein you have no interest, and which is fought between two Princes of such eminency, it ought to be exactly related. I shall better inform myself another time (replied he) and remember your instructions hereafter: Hereafter, said the Princess, Heavens forbid you ere be put unto it. Panthea spoke this with such an Emphesis, that Perinthus knowing thereby her thoughts, was dumb for a quarter of an hour together; during which time, Doralisa talking on as she begun, did almost make him despair. But to return from whence I transgressed, give me leave to tell you Madam, that Abradates was so sad to see that in conquering Mexaris he was not the better, as it was impossible he should be more, though it was some comfort to see himself in better state than his Rival, yet he thought himself most unfortunate: When the Princess known it, she was also much troubled, though her care was not to show it: So as the first time that Abradates met her at Doralisa's house, there passed such discourse between them, as did confirm their amity: The Princess kept still in those limits which she had prescribed unto herself, never to Marry Abradates without the consent of the Prince her Father, but never to Marry Mexaris, what violence soever she was put unto. Thus that which in appearance should quench their Passions, did render them more strong; and Perinthus in striving to prejudice Abradates did against his will do him better service than if he had endeavoured it. This close Lover yet did think himself more happy than he was before the Combat of these two Rivals: for though he knew very well, that the heart of Panthea was deeply engaged, yet he had some hopes that seeing she could not marry Abradates, she would strive to exclude him out of her mind; in so much as we perceived him more pleasant and free than he used to be. As for Mexaris, he was so melancholy, that none living could be more; not but that he had still good words from the Prince of Clasomena, but since words are but wind, and Perinthus kept him from bestowing his daughter without the King's consent, he was no less unquiet: In the mean while Abradates and he lived with a cold kind of civility to each other, such as seemed to be an inclination to another Quarrel. Since the King did not forbid them seeing of Panthea, but only from thoughts of marriage, they often met at her house; but more often in other places, lest they should too much incense Croessus. Thus did they live a kind of compulsive and unpleasant lives; yet Abradates was much less miserable than his Rival; since he did not only know himself not hated, but so much in favour with the World, that the Princess never went unto any place, but he had intelligence of it the very same hour: For since he was liberal unto all, his Intelligencers were most exactly true and faithful to him: And I am confident there was not a man of a condition whatsoever, neither about the Prince of Clasomena, nor about the Princess his daughter, which was not most really for him, except Perinthus.  
On the contrary, the avarice of Mexaris was such, that he had not any intelligence so much as from his own servants, so that he knew no more but what every one knew. After than he had lived thus some certain days, he fell upon a most unjust and violent Resolution, which was, to carry away Panthea, if he could not by any means win the Prince of Clasomena to let him marry the Princess his Daughter secretly. As he entertained these thoughts, News was brought, that the Princess Basilina Aunt unto Panthea was sick of a mortal disease: Upon this the Princess, who did most tenderly love her, beseeched her Father that she might go and pay her last duties unto her who had been so dear unto her. Since her desire was just, she easily obtained it; and the Prince of Clasomena himself had gone this Voyage, if he had not been advertised that Croessus would not be pleased with it: his Resolutions than were, that Panthea should go alone, and that Perinthus should be a Conductor; which employment you may imagine he most joyfully undertaken; yet was he vexed to leave Mexaris with the Prince her Father and his Master, unless he had been with him also: yet notwithstanding, the satisfaction he should have to be with the Princess out of sight of all his Rivals, did carry him above all other considerations. In the mean while, Panthea considering that she should stand in need of some comfort in this sorrowful Voyage, desired the Aunt of Doralisa, with whom she lived, to let her Niece go with her, which she granted as willingly as Doralisa wished it: so that the next morning we departed, and went to Clasomena. Abradates' resented this separation extreme sadly; and the greatest aggravation of his sorrows was, that since this Journey was so hastily undertaken, he could not bid adieu unto the Princess in private: so that but for me he had not known that she wished him to remember her during this absence. I shall not tell you Madam, how melancholy the Princess was all the Voyage, nor how great her sorrows were, when arriving in Clasomena we found the Princess Basilina so very ill, that there was no hopes of her Recovery: This Madam would be too tedious unto you: But give me leave to tell you, that four days after our first arrival this excellent Princess died; whose death Panthea took so heavily, that she fell sick herself; so that she could not return so soon to Sardis: for though her disease was not very violent, yet it was so great as to hinder her from travel; so that Perinthus enjoyed a longer happiness then ere he looked for, in being free from the sight of his Rivals, and continually seeing his Princess; and indeed he became so blithe and pleasant whilestwe stayed at Clasomena, that the Princess would not admit of any company but his, Doralisa, and mine: so that it may not unfitly be said, that as Roses grow amongst thorny prickles, so the delights of Perinthus did grow amongst his sorrows: 'Tis true, his sweets did last no longer than the sweets of a fading Rose: For besides, that Love is an enemy to rest and serenity, he and his delights were blasted by a stinging Letter from Andramites; for it brought him news, that Mexaris was perpetually as close to the Prince of Clasomena, as if he were his shadow: yet for all this, since the Princess was not amongst them, they could not put their Resolutions into execution; he hoped therefore that as soon as he saw the Prince of Clasomena, he would make him alter his design if he had any which were contrary to his intentions: So that his trouble at it was not so great as his satisfaction to be so near his Princess, and so far off his Rivals, but there was another passage which was a much more better Pill unto him; for be pleased to know Madam, that the Prince Abradates, not being able to live so long without some news of Panthea, did write twice every Week constantly as long as we stayed in Clasomena unto either Doralisa or myself; or to say better unto the Princess, since the Contents of them all related only unto her: at the first he intimated his ardent desires of obtaining licence to write unto herself; but she would not by any means permit it lest by any accident his Letters should miscarry: but as for those which were written unto Doralisa and me, they were written in such an ambiguous manner, as they would admit of several interpretations: So that the Princess heard from Abradates almost without any danger, and Abradates understood from us as much as he desired to know. But the better to make our matters mysterious, we intimated unto Abradates, that when we would mention any thing unto him which concerned the Princess, it should be under the name of Perinthus: so that you may imagine that the Name of Perinthus was in all our Letters. It chanced once as ill luck was, when Perinthus came to Doralisa's Chamber as she was writing unto Abradates; and though it was always her custom when she writ, to appoint her Woman that waited upon her, to let none enter before she was first acquainted, yet she did not exactly obey her all that time, but on the contrary, she wanting something which was in another Room, she went out, unperceived by her Mistress, and left the door open, hoping to return ere any came: but whilst she stayed talking with some of the Princess Women, Perinthus came in, who hearing no noise in the Chamber, thought that either none was there, or else that Doralisa was sick: but to satisfy himself he went in, and see that she was behind a Screen, writing upon a table opposite unto a great Glass, and her back towards him: Since Doralisa's mind was very intent upon her Writing, she never minded any noise, and therefore it is no wonder if she did not hear Perinthus enter, who being full of curiosity to see what she writ, that he might have some subject to twit her with, as she had often him, did go towards her, and did tread as softly as if she had been asleep, and he afraid to wake her: at last he came close to her, and leaning his head almost over her shoulder, he read what she writ unto Abradates; yet, could he not know unto whom this Letter was addressed: but he was much amazed when the first word he read was his own Name; his curiosity augmented, and he read all she had writ, which, as I remember, was in these words: 
Perinthus yesterday spoke unto me concerning you in such an obliging way, that I wish you knew what we said in your Commendations: your last Letter seemed unto him the most pleasant in the world, and so admirably politic, that I read it no less than thrice unto him: You may well know, that since he did so commend you for it, I dare not after him: I have many other things to say, which unto you are more—   
As Doralisa had writ this last word, and Perinthus read it with extreme impatience to see the sequel, that thereby he might understand the beginning, which was like unto a Riddle to him, knowing that Doralisa never showed him any Letter; she lifted up her eyes, and looking in the Glass which was opposite to her, she saw Perinthus reading her Letter over her shoulder. She no sooner spied him but she cried out; Fie, fie, Perinthus (said she and hid her Letter) have you forgot that respect which is due unto our Sex? Why, why, fair Doralisa (said he unto her and smiled) are you making me speak things I never thought upon? I pray let me see this Letter which you say I thought so pleasant, and which was so polite, that I read it no less than three times. Doralisa then perceiving that he had read all she writ, thought it better to turn it into raillery, then make a serious matter of it, thinking that the more angry she was, the more would he apprehend it mysterious: also since those that use to play upon others, cannot well take so much liberty unto themselves, unless they allow it unto others: so she thought that she had no reason to be angry with Perinthus, because she had played him a hundred such tricks in her life; so that changing her countenance, and beginning to laugh and read the Letter, to gain more time for the explanation of it, Perinthus desired to read it also, and she not denying, he read it word for word. I pray Doralisa, said he unto her, why did your Pen drop such a lie as this, and to whom do you tell it? for I am certain, that all the day yesterday you did not speak one word unto me; yet you tell the person unto whom you write, that I spoke a hundred times of her yesterday in a most obliging manner: And you add further, that her last Letter was very pleasant; and you told all these with such a confidence, that you amazed me: However, said Doralisa, I am confident, I did you no ill office, for in saying all this, I said nothing in your disadvantage; but on the contrary, said that you acknowledged it for a Polite and pleasant Letter, and that I durst not give her any commendations after you.  
I beseech you Doralisa (said he unto her) tell me, and show me this that I commended so, otherwise I shall be much incensed: Truly, answered she, if I were a bad friend I should show it; but to let you see that I am a good one, know that a Lady in Sardis, who for her honour I will not name, did write a Letter unto me, which to show her wit, she hath stuffed full of Fustian and big words, which signify nothing: So that knowing by her stile she loves to be commended, doubtless I did her that office in the highest manner, since I told her she had your commendations: I should believe you Doralisa, replied he, if you would show me this her Letter: Since perhaps you are acquainted with her hand (replied Doralisa) I will not show it unto you. In the mean time, Perinthus, added she, I pray leave me the liberty to finish out my Letter: Really, said he, I do believe this is a business of some earnest, for at the place where you left, it seems you had more matters to express then compliments: 'Tis true (replied Doralisa, and laughed) therefore I desire you to leave me: I cannot, said he; for to be plain with you, I do not believe a word of all this you have told me: What do you believe then (said she unto him?) I know not what to believe or think, yet I am the most mistaken man alive, if this Letter do not contain some close secrets: If you think so, said Doralisa, than you are unreasonable to press unto a discovery of it, since you know secrets are such things as our friends must tell us themselves, and we ought not to ask them: If I had not seen my name in your Letter, replied he, doubtless I should be more discreet: But since you are so bold as to tell three or four lies of me, I thought I might be as bold in ask you the truth of those things which I desire to know: What would you know? (replied Doralisa.) I would know, said he, unto whom you direct your Letter: I have already told you, replied she, that I will not; all that I can do for your satisfaction is to protest most solemnly, that all I have or shall write unto her, does not at all relate unto your interest: For Heaven's sake (said Perinthus) do not use me thus, for if you refuse me this, I shall relate the story of it, not only to every one here, but unto all the Court also when I return to Sardis: Perinthus is so discreet (replied Doralisa) that I do not fear he will so far incense me: Doralisa has been often so waggish with me, replied he, that Perinthus would not be much to blame, if he were once in his life revenged: When you have told all you can, replied she, What then will the issue be? The issue doubtless will be (answered Perinthus) that they will know you keep a secret correspondence with some or other: They know well enough already (replied she, and smiled) that I have not yet found this complete man I look for; therefore my reputation will not be wounded by any thing you can say against me. Perhaps (said Perinthus then, and looked steadfastly upon her) you negotiate in behalf of some other, and perhaps also you have less interest than I have in the secret meaning of this Letter: I should have thought, replied Doralisa, that a man who will not open his own secrets unto any, would not be so pressing to know the secrets of others: However it be, said he, I have such an extreme desire to be satisfied in what I ask of you, or that you will confess it unto me if I can guests at it, that there is nothing which I will not willingly do to oblige you unto it: Let me then know what you guess it to be, said she, and afterwards I shall know how far I can answer. As they were upon these terms I chanced to enter., not knowing of any contest betwixt them: And since the Princess feared that Doralisa had not writ unto Abradates obligingly enough, I came to tell her she should not seal up her Letter before she showed it unto the Princess. To acquit myself of this employment, I whispered my message into her ear, but as low as I whispered it, Perinthus heard it as well as Doralisa: So that comparing what I told Doralisa, unto what he had read in her Letter, he believed that this Letter which the Princess desired to see, was the same which included his name, and he made no further scruple of it, but that this mysterious Letter related unto the Princess and Abradates. Doralisa then offered to tell me the passage which was between them, but Perinthus cared no more for this Rallary, and rising up to go away: I need not ask you any more, (said he unto her) for I know it already, without putting you to the trouble of telling it. Doralisa seeing a great alteration in his countenance, feared lest he should speak something in prejudice of the Princess, and therefore she stayed him: Then telling me in three words the subject of their quarrel, to let me understand what I ought to say, and to persuade him also that there was no mystery in the Letter, I did what I could to make him believe all this was but a piece of Doralisa's sporting Wit, which was in a frolic humour; but I perceived he did not believe me, and so certainly he left us. He was no sooner gone out of the Chamber, but Doralisa and I called him back again. Upon a little consultation together, we concluded it better that Perinthus alone should suspect something, then that he should tell this passage unto some such men as would tell it unto a thousand, which might produce ill consequences. Perinthus then being returned into Doralisa's Chamber, we seriously entreated him not to reveal this passage between him and her; telling him, (to the end he should not deny us, and also to deceive him) that e'er long we would acquaint him with the truth of the matter. No, no, (replied Perinthus with a hollow kind of expression) I will not reveal this secret which is so dear unto you, never fear it; I respect the person to whom it relates, more than to have any such thought. Doralisa and I would have said more unto him, but he went away without giving us, or we giving him any other answer. In the mean time, we resolved to hinder him from acquainting the Princess with this accident, lest it should too much trouble her, and thought it better to comply with him, and tell exactly what he could guests it to be, yet we could not meet with a ready opportunity for it, for none that belonged to the Princess could see him that day, not that he had shut up himself to conceal his melancholy, but that he was gone to see if he could discover whether any of Abradates his men were in Clasomena; and indeed his quest was not in vain, for he found out by a strange chance, that there was a man lodged in the Captain of the Castle's house, who would not be seen; so that by enquiring who he was, he understood by a servant of the Captains, who was my Cousin, that this stranger was to depart in the morning after, that he came but the day before, that he came from Sardis, and that I had spoke with him in the Garden. I leave you to judge Madam after this, whether a man so much in Love, and so full of wit and spirit as Perinthus was, would not conclude that there was a secret correspondency between Panthea and Abradates, he apprehended then the very truth, and saw plainly that his name in Doralisa's Letter was only an umbrage unto Panthea's name: It is a thing impossible to express the despair of Perinthus: Is it not misery enough, said he, that I dare not so much as tell the person whom I adore, that I love her, but that I must be also persecuted with a thousand sad circumstances, which add bitter aggravations unto all my sorrows? Must no name but mine colour the favours which the Princess whom I adore confers upon my Rival? Fie, fie, I cannot endure it: And the truth is Madam, this trivial inconsiderable passage did so perplex him, that he was beyond all patience: Love does infuse so much folly & weakness into the spirits of the most complete men, that he had not been half so much stung, if the Princess had expressed her favours unto Abradates by any other name then his. This bitter thought did so corrode upon his heart, that he intended to desire the Princess not to use his name any more in her Leters; and to that end, the next morning he came unto her lodging, but so melancholy and altered, that Panthea thinking he had been ill, did most obligingly ask him how he did, telling him she should be extremely sorry he should fall sick: Whilst she was recovering her health, and that she intended as he brought her from Sardis to Clasomena, so he should carry her back again from Clasomena to Sardis. Perinthus received these marks of friendship from the Princess very respectively, but with so much sadness in his face, that it was evident there was as much in his soul. In the mean while, Doralisa and I did search for him all that day, and it chanced when he came, that the Princess was gone into her Closet with Doralisa, and some Clasomenian Ladies, and Perinthus and myself were alone together, in a Tarrass close by the Chamber: There we silently stood both of us, in expectation what either would say unto the other: At last, seeing Perinthus so busy with his own thoughts, that he minded nothing; I spoke first unto him, and I asked him whether he was desirous I should keep my word, and tell him what he had so much desire to know? No Pherenice, said he, and sighed I know too much already; but I have one favour to ask, which I beseech you do not deny me: If it be both just and possible, (said I unto him) you shall certainly obtain it: Then I conjure you, (replied he) to let Doralisa use my name no more in writing unto that person she writ last; and it is much better for he● to make use of any other to hide that which she would have kept a secret, for this may prejudice me more than she is aware of: I would have desired the same of Doralisa herself, but her humour is such, that she never hears me but in way of jest; and therefore I address myself unto you, who being of a less frolic disposition, has doubtless a more tender soul to be moved at the desires of your friends. Perinthus spoke after such a mournful manner, as I perceived by his tone the sadness of his heart, which moved mine to pity him: So that answering him as sweetly as I could, to the end I might thereby oblige him to a confidence in me: Perinthus (said I unto him) I shall easily obtain what you desire of Doralisa; and since you do forbid her to speak all the good of you she pleaseth, when occasion shall happen, I do assure you, she shall use your name no more when she writes unto her friend, for I know she infinitely esteems you, and would not upon any terms give you any offence: But pray tell me, Why are you so incensed against her for using your name, at a time that she could not take any other that she knew better? Pherenice, said he unto me, if you will make me a firm promise of fidelity, I will impart part of my thoughts unto you: I will seriously make that promise, (said I unto him) provided you conceal nothing from me: Since you never imparted any thing at all to me (replied he) I dare not discover all I know unto you, unless you first vow secrecy. I think after this Perinthus intended to tell me he loved the Princess; and since I longed to hear him speak of his passion, that I might endeavour to cure him of it, I promised and vowed all he desired— After which, looking steadfastly upon me: Is it not true Pherenice (said he unto me with a sadness in his eyes, as would have moved the most insensible soul to pity him) that the Letter which Doralisa writ, was unto Abradates? and that the name of miserable Perinthus was used only to umbrage the name of the adoreable Panthea: Perinthus (said I unto him, and interrupted him) you do not keep within the limits of our conditions, for I promised not to reveal any secret you shall impart unto me; for I perceive by the very beginning of your discourse, that you are so far from imparting and trusting me, that you desire I should impart and trust you. Consider well Perinthus what you say, and do not begin your discourse with any questions, if you desire I should answer you: Neither, to tell you truly, do I very well understand, though what you suppose were true, what prejudice it would be to you, though your name were placed in lieu of Panthea's. If the Prince of Clasomena, (replied he very faintly) should by any accident meet with one of those Letters, might he not suspect me of holding some intelligence, and that I did betray him? ay, I say, unto whom he has said a hundred times, he would not have the Princess marry Abradates: Ha Perinthus (said I unto him) Have you not professed yourself so obliged unto the service of the Princess, as that you ought to wish well unto Abradates, if you did believe she looked favourably upon him? Yes, and so you would, if you had not some other secret reason, which I perceive well enough, and for your tranquilities sake wish were not true: Yes, yes, Perinthus, you do love Panthea, and some sparks of jealousy persuades you that she loves Abradates: This is it that makes you take it so ill, your name should be used in a Letter which you think is unto that Prince: I have long since perceived the passion in you to her, yet I knew no reason you had to trust none with it, but to smother that fire which consumes you, a little spark if covered, will grow to a great flame, but a great fire will not hurt, if not covered; therefore let me persuade you ingenuously to confess it unto me, otherwise you will induce me to tell the Princess all I know: If you will trust me, added I, I shall promise you an inviolable fidelity; and if you will not, I do protest, that as soon as I am parted from you, I will tell the Princess that I think you are in Love with her, and shall give her such evidences of the truth in it, that perhaps she will forbid you ever seeing her again. Perinthus hearing me say so, looked attentively upon me, and spoke not a word: He considered which was the more advantageous for him, to confess, or not confess, that he loved her: If I confess it, said he, perhaps she will tell, and if she tell I am undone: But if I do not confess she will the sooner tell, and my ruin is the more inevitable, both ways ruined, what shall I do? Then afterwards, imagining I would never be so importunate to know a thing which I would condemn in him, he began to flatter himself with a bottomless hope of he knew not what, and answer me enigmatically. When I saw his soul begin to stagger, I pressed him further, and that so home, that I said the Princess should presently know he was in Love with her, if he would not acknowledge it to me. At last, after he had made me solemnly swear that I would never discover what he would tell me, neither unto Doralisa nor the Princess, nor any else whatsoever, he promised to lay open the whole truth unto me; yet first I declared unto him that I would engage myself no further then to be faithful unto him, and to comfort him; but not to further him in his passion.  
Perhaps Madam you will ask me why I would urge Perinthus to confess his Love; to which I answer, Because I thought it would be a considerable service unto the Princess, if I could screw myself into the credit of a man who had such a prevalency with the Prince her Father; and I could be an instrument to prevent any hurt to Abradates, whom I knew he did not love: Also I hoped that my advice might perhaps happily cure him of that disease which did so much torment him, and would be his Ruin: So that my ends were rather at the Princess service, and the tranquillity of Perinthus, then out of any curiosity that I desired to know the secrets of his heart: however Perinthus confessed his passion unto me; related all his raptures, and told me all his thoughts: So that after he had expressed the grandeur of his passion, his purity and constancy, Judge Pherenice, said he unto me, whether I had not good reason to desire that my Name should not be employed to make Abradates' happy. Perinthus (said I unto him with much sweetness, to the end I might insinuate myself into his opinion) I am very much obliged to you for letting me know that from your own mouth which I so much desired, and I assure you that I will conceal this secret wherewith you have entrusted me, as closely as you can yourself. Ah Pherenice (said he unto me) perhaps you will keep it too closely; and I do not know whether at the same time I desire you to conceal it, I should not also entreat you to tell it unto the— At this word Perinthus stopped, not being able to pronounce the word Princess; then presently reprehending himself, No, no Pherenice, said he to me, do not mind my raving, but my reason, which bids me rather die for my adored Panthea, and never to let her know I die for her; therefore be as faithful as your promise, and let me only have the comfort to speak unto her whom she loves of the torments which my passion puts upon me: in the mean time, as I will not entreat you to render me any good office unto the Princess, so do not you entreat me to be serviceable unto Abradates. The case is not the same, replied I, for if I undertake to do you any good office to the Princess Panthea, I should absolutely ruin you, so you should ask me a thing impossible: but if I entreat you to do a good office for Abradates unto the Prince of Clasomena, I do entreat you to do a thing which may easily be done. Easily (replied Perinthus hastily,) ah Pherenice, you do not know how difficult it is to do a good office for a Rival, and especially a favoured Rival. But Perinthus, replied I, would you have the Princess marry a man she hates? I would she were contented, replied he, but for a comfort unto my miseries I would she would marry none. As we were thus in discourse, the Princess came out of her Closet, and went into the Garden to take the air, whither I followed her, but not Perinthus, but he retired as full of shame, as if the Princess did divine what he had told me. Doralisa, who had observed the discourse which we had together, did ask me what it was: but though she and I had promised each other to render an account of what we should discover concerning Perinthus; yet I did not think myself obliged to tell her what I had vowed unto him to conceal; and indeed I told her nothing but what I knew before he had discovered himself unto me. After this, Perinthus spoke ofter unto me than he used, though he was ever one of my good friends: but what arguments and addresses soever he used to know of me upon what terms Abradates stood in Panthea's minds, I did not tell him one word; and as he was one day importuning me, Peace Perinthus (said I unto him) and never ask me that which I would never tell you though I did know it: and be assured of this, that as I will never betray your trust, so I will never betray the Princess, unto whom I owe a greater fidelity then unto you; and indeed from this time he durst never ask me any more questions. Some few days after, he received a Letter from Andramites, which let him know that Mexaris had a little clashed with the Prince of Clasomena, and that he was gone unto one of his houses, some two days journey from Sardis: so that Perinthus did not well know whether he should be sad or glad at it: for when he considered Mexaris as one that was in hopes to enjoy Panthea, he was very glad he was fallen foul with the Prince of Clasomena; but when he considered him as an obstacle unto the hopes of Abradates, he was sorry that Mexaris was not in that Prince's favour. Yet notwithstanding all this, his hopes that Croessus would never consent that Panthea should marry either Mexaris or Abradates, did procure him some consolation; yet it may well be said that he never enjoyed any pleasing hours: not only because he had many real miseries upon him, but because he sucked bitter poison out of every thing; and when the Princess was recovered he grieved in lieu of rejoicing at it, foreseeing that the return of her health would be her return to S●rd●s. Pherenice (said he one day unto me when the Princess had fresher Roses in her cheeks then ere she had since her sickness paled them) am not I a most miserable man to see that the Princess is a more polished beauty by her sickness? had it impaired her, Abradates perhaps would have lessened his Love to her, and that if she had perceived it she would have had less good will to him: but alas, I am too unfortunate to see that, for she will return to Sardis more gloriously fair then when she came from it. You may easily imagine by this Madam, how much that man was tormented, who grieved at the beauty and welfare of the person he loved. Within a few days after we departed, and Perinthus appeared so melancholy, that if I had not known the secret of his heart, I should have thought he had left the object of all his affections behind him: Doralisa also began to chide him extremely the first day of our Journey, and truly that helped us to pass on with much more pleasure: for as oft as Perinthus, who was on horseback, came near the Princess Coach, from which he was never far off, she told him of a thousand pleasant passages, unto which he would answer with such a fretting chafe as made the best sport in the world. The first days Journey being thus past, we continued the next; but alas, it was not so pleasant: For be pleased to know Madam, that being come into a thick dark Forest, in a place wher● was a great Pond, which we left upon the right hand, and which being shadowed with the thick Wood, was both a most pleasing and a most terrible object: Be pleased to know, I say, that being come unto this place, we saw upon our left hand come from divers places of the Forest forty or fifty men on horseback with swords in their hands; one of which I presently knew to be the Prince Mexaris; who commanded the Coachman of the Princess Coach to stay; which accordingly he did, because he thought he could do no other: for Madam, you must know, the Princess in this voyage had but one Coach, full of women, besides her own; fifteen horsemen, and some footmen, but very few: 'Tis true, Perinthus might well be counted for more than one man, considering the prodigious acts he did that day: he no sooner saw Mexaris come with a sword in his hand, and in the head of all his men (who in coming out of the Wood rallied about him) but he put himself in a posture of defence, and calling all the Princess men together, he stood between the Coach and the Prince Mexaris, who had no sooner commanded the Coach to stay, but Perinthus advanced towards him with his Sword lifted up; Mexaris retreated a pace or two; and endeavouring to carry away the Princess without bloodshed, or perhaps without exposing himself: Perinthus (said he unto him) do not force me to ruin you, nor make any vain resistance against a man who is in a condition to force you unto obedience. No, no, Sir, said Per●nthus, I have but a life to manage, and you shall not take away the Princess as long as Perinthus lives. Whilst Mexaris was keeping Perinthus in talk, four of his men went to the Coach, which Perinthus seeing, without any more ado he fell upon Mexaris, crying out he should not find it an easy matter to carry Panthea away as long as he lived: and indeed he assaulted him with such fury, as Mexaris stood in need of all his men to relieve him, as afterward we understood by one of the Princess men. As for us, Madam, we were in such a fright, that we known not what we see: For my part, I only see a great confusion, and heard a hideous noise. The most advantageous thing for us was, that those men who Mexaris commanded to seize upon the Princess whilst the rest fought, seeing their Master engaged in a Fight, of which they known not the event notwithstanding the inequality of number, they let us alone, and resolved to stay till they see the Victory more certain, contenting themselves with keeping the Coaches from stirring away: but the longer they stayed, the weaker and fewer their Party grew: for Perinthus fought with such magnanimous courage, that I have heard certainly reported, he killed six of Mexaris his men with his own hands, being wounded himself in several places: Those who seconded him did play their parts very well; since of fifteen men which he had, three were killed, and four more out of fight, he had no other hope left but to die in defending the Princess: so that fight in desperation, he did such things as I know not how to relate unto you. As the poor Perinthus was thus engaged, he see some Caviliers galloping to the place where he fought, and since he questioned not but that they belonged unto Mexaris, he gave himself for lost: yet desiring to sell his life at as dear a rate as he could, and to kill Mexaris before he was killed himself, he advanced towards him with such a fury in spite of all his men which surrounded him, and engaged himself so amongst these Ravishers, that if Abradates, in the head of those Caviliers which Perinthus took to belong unto Mexaris had not come in to his relief, the poor Perinthus had died there. But this Prince was no sooner come up with twenty horse, than the state of things did put on a new face; foreseeing Perinthus in danger, he made straight to him, and clearly disengaged him.  
To present unto you Madam the astonishment of Mexaris, of Perinthus, of us, and every one, to see Abradates in that place, is more than language can reach unto, Mexaris than thought the Gods resolved his ruin, Panthea hoped they would preserve her, and Perinthus told me since, that when he saw Abradates save his life, he was so extremely full of sorrow, that he had a mind to fight against him as well as against Mexaris, who since the arrival of the Prince of Susiana, thought it discretion to retreat, since he was wounded, and neither in a condition to carry away his Princess, nor fight with his Rival, yet he was hotly pursued: But since the principal design of Abradates and Perinthus was only to preserve the Princess, they durst not venture to scatter themselves in the thick of the Forest; So that returning again towards her, she called them her Deliverers, and rendered them a million of thanks for the service which they had done her: Then, as she observed, that Abradates by his arrival had saved the life of Perinthus, she rendered him no less thanks for that, then for keeping her out of the power of Mexaris: And since she did apprehend with abundance of tenderness all that Perinthus had done for her, she did accept it with great acknowledgements. On the other side, Perinthus looking upon Abradates, as upon him that had reaped the fruit of all his pains, he almost repent of what he had done, and perhaps rather wished Mexaris had carried away the Princess, then that Abradates should share with him in the glory of defending her, or that for his particular he should owe his life unto him. Since that place was not very pleasant for us to stay in, where nothing was to be seen but dead and dying men: After all these compliments were tumultuously addressed, after the Princess had asked Abradates what accident brought him so happily thither, and after he had told her that it was, because he was informed of Mexaris his design, by one of his Domestiques, therefore he immediately mounted horse to oppose him, than the Coach went on. Abradates' leaving some of his men to take care of those that were not yet dead, as well enemies as friends; also to relieve the one, and secure the other: But as they were going on, the Princess perceived that Perinthus was wounded in his left hand, and that he lost blood enough to weaken him, and therefore she caused her Coach to stay, and causing him to come in, I gave him a Scarf to bind up his hand. Thus the first Liberator of Panthea was in the Coach, and the Liberator of Perinthus and Panthea both rid by them, and could not choose but render thanks unto this secret Lover for so well defending the Princess: But alas, what hollow-hearted answers did the poor Perinthus return unto all the civilities of Abradates; The only consolation he had was sometimes to look upon me, and to let me see the sorrows of his heart in his eyes: At the first habitable place we came at, the Princess stayed to dress the hand of Perinthus, the blood being not yet quite staunched; after which we went on. I had forgot to tell you Madam, how after the combat was ended, we found one of Mexaris his men dismounted, of whom we seized, and whom Abradates caused to be brought unto Sardis, that Croessus might be better informed of all passages. I will not tell you Madam, how extremely that Prince was incensed against Mexaris, when he heard of his intentions to take away Panthea, nor how the Prince of Clasomena was surprised, grieved, and angry: But give me leave to tell you that which indeed is admirable, for Perinthus who did what he could to kill Mexaris, did now use all endeavours possible by the means of Andramites, to appease Croessus, upon no other motive, but only to make him an obstacle unto Abradates. Thus the miserable Perinthus, (as generous as he was) was forced by the violence of his passion to further him whose life he would have taken away, and to hinder him unto whom he was a debtor for his own, yet was he not able to effect the one nor the other; for besides that, Croessus was highly incensed against Mexaris for offering not only to marry Panthea contrary to his commands, but to steal her away: There happened another opposition, for the Princess fearing lest Mexaris should return to Sardis, and make his peace, she desired Doralisa to treat Andramites a little better, and to desire him that he would keep the King in his angry mind against Mexaris, which accordingly she did; and Andramites the next morning went unto Perinthus, and told him that he could not satisfy his desires, because Doralisa desired of him the quite contrary; therefore he told him, that where the case of a Mistress and a friend comes in competition, he should not think himself unjust, in giving the precedency unto Doralisa before him: You may imagine Madam, how sad Perinthus was at this news; for he known very well Doralisa would never have made this desire, but at the instance of the Princess: Seeing than he could not oblige his friend unto his desires, yet he solicited him to keep Croessus still unto his design of not consenting that Abradates should marry Panthea; and indeed Andramites did promise him to satisfy that desire, provided Doralisa did not move him to oppose that also. This transaction of Perinthus did not proceed from any willingness to prejudice a Prince unto whom he was so much obliged, but the consideration that he was his hindrance from possessing the Princess, was above all other considerations whatsoever: He never acquainted me with this negotiation, but only with the miseries which he endured. In the mean while, that dangerous poison which was in his soul, did so invenom his wound that it would not heal, and his hand was as sore as his heart; he grew weak, pale, and languishing, being in a gentle Fever, which never intermitted one moment: But whilst he endured all these secret maladies, Abradates was much happier than he used to be; for the Prince of Clasomena knowing what he had done for the Princess his Daughter, did treat him incomparably better than ordinary, and could not in any civility forbid him the visiting Panthea, with whom his hours were much more sweet since Mexaris was not present. It seemed that Prince, (who was retired unto a Town, the Governor whereof was his creature) was dangerously wounded, so that there being no fears of his return, Abradates enjoyed as many pleasures as Perinthus did sorrows; yet had he this bitter ingredient amongst his sweets, that Croessus was no better disposed then usual to consent unto his Marriage with Panthea, so that he had some Cloudy days as well as many Sunshine. After he had lived thus some certain time, he understood that Croessus having conferred with the Prince of Clasomena, at last gave him leave to return, and to carry the Princess his Daughter with him, to the end that absence might extinguish the passion in Abradates his soul: Perinthus you may imagine did not oppose this design, but on the contrary, did so zealously prompt the Prince his Master unto it, and also set Andramites upon Croessus to hasten it, that the voyage was talked on as a thing certainly resolved upon: So that when Abradates thought himself nearest his happiness, he feared to be furthest off it. The Princess was extremely troubled at this resolution, insomuch as she desired Doralisa to be extremely urgent with Andramites to prevent this journey: For my particular, without either telling the Princess or Doralisa, I spoke unto Perinthus, and told him, that I found no disposition in him to satisfy my desires: Then he told me at first, how knowing that both Croessus and the Prince of Clasomena, for some reasons of State, would never suffer Panthea to marry Abradates; and therefore he thought it serviceable to the Princess to negotiate that she might be further off him, lest any longer conversation with this Prince should too much engage her heart. Moreover, the Prince his Master, desired not to let slip this favourable opportunity to return into his own Dominions, and get out of that place where he had not liberty to retire himself without this reason: In short, he told me so many things, and so handsomely, that any other besides myself would have believed that Love had no part in all his actions: But in the conclusion he ingenuously confessed, that to separate Abradates and Panthea was his main design, which prompted him unto all he did; but he told me all this in such violent raptures of Love, that as angry as I was against him, I could not quarrel with him, as I thought I should. In the mean time, Doralisa having solicited Andramites, and employed all the power she had over him, to cause this voyage to be broken off, telling him it was merely in consideration of her own interest, because she was to lose the Princess: Andramites told her, he could not do her the service he desired, for the voyage was so absolutely resolved upon, that it was impossible to prevent it. Now you may imagine Abradates all sorrows, and Panthea was not without her share, for she perceived that the designs of those that transacted her separation from Abradates was, that they should never Marry, and therefore not to see each other; yet since she had a high and constant soul, she did so hide her own sorrows, that thereby she augmented the sorrows of Abradates; he conceived that his Love deserved at least a melancholy look from her, if perhaps not tears from her eyes: He sighed and sorrowed so excessively at her insensibility, that the Princess to pacify him, was pleased to meet him at Doralisa's house, lest he should run into some violent resolution; for since the Princess had but two days to stay in Sardis, time was very precious with them, he came then to Dornlisa's house, and saw her so sad all that day, as he had good reason to be satisfied at the tenderness of her affection, and more than himself had at the crossness of his fortune: This Meeting was extremely sad, and the parting was insupportable, not only because they were to be absent, but because their absence had no limits; and since the Princess would never be enduced to do any thing contrary to her duty, she told Abradates, who did extremely importune her, that she would not suffer him to come and see her in a disguise.  
At last Madam, after all was said that could be, between two persons who were resolved to love for ever, and who feared never to meet again, they parted: For though Abradates was to make a ceremonious Visit unto the Princess to bid her adieu, he valued that but as an empty superstition, since he knew he could not then talk in private with her; so that when she left him at Doralisa's house, he looked upon her like a Statue, and as if he would have sunk with sorrow: As soon as she was gone, some of the servants of Abradates came to tell him, that Croessus sent all about to inquire for him: but since the mind of Abradates was much incensed against that Prince, he bade them tell those that looked for him, that they could not find him; and so he stayed above two hours with Doralisa, talking of the Princess, and the miserable condition he was in: after which, he went to Croessus, who carrying him into his Closet with extraordinary civility, told him, that his fortunes now looked with another face, and that he should receive a Letter from the Queen of Susiana, which would tell him that the Prince his Brother, and the King his Father were both dead, and that he was to be King: This News did extremely surprise Abradates, and moved him unto much sorrow; for though these two dead Princes had in their lives been both extremely unjust and rigorous in exiling him, yet natural affection did produce such effects in him as useth to be in generous persons; so that he received the news of his being King of Susiana with a mixture of some sorrows; but yet such sorrows as were not above his Reason. Croessus told him, that the man who brought this news had a Letter for him from the Queen his Mother; who sent this message in particular, that she conceived it expedient for him to stay yet in Sardis, until four Grandees of his Kingdom, who would set forth within three days, were come to desire him in the Name of all his People, That he would please to come and take upon him that Sceptre which the King his Father had left him, who the last hour of his life did express his Repentance for exiling him, and did declare him his legitimate Successor; since he lived three days after his eldest Son, who only caused that bad understanding between them. After Abradates knew all these things, he retired to his Lodging with a mind full of various apprehensions, so that at first he could not himself well tell what he thought. Since it was now very late, very few did know this news that night: but the next morning there was not one which did not know that Abradates was King of Susiana, and rejoiced at it: Perinthus himself was glad, because he flattered himself with an imagination that Abradates would be forced to depart that very day, and that perhaps ambition and absence might root out of his heart all thoughts of Love unto the Princess: so that I do verily think she apprehended fewer joys at the good fortune of Abradates, than Perinthus did; because she feared lest the change of that Princess condition should work any mutable effects upon his heart. In the mean while, though all the World rejoiced that he was King; yet was he forced to a ceremonious Mourning, and to go and grieve at the very same thing which they in his presence rejoiced at: The Prince of Clasomena went to him, and so did Perinthus also, hoping always that as for Abradates, in mounting his Throne, every step unto it was a step further from Panthea: The Princess for her part sent to visit him, and to testify unto him the share of joys she took in the happiness which had befallen him, and that she herself with the Princess of Lydia would come and congratulate with him. But since this Compliment was only such a one as Ceremony and Civility might exact from her, Abradates was not fully satisfied with it; but had rather she had sent unto him by some more trusty Messenger, who should have told him something in private from her. In the mean time, since the Princess was to depart within two days, his Soul seemed to be in a very Hell: for besides, that it was not handsome for him to go so soon either to her Lodging or Doralisa's, he thought it less handsome to talk of any Marriage before the Deputies from Susiana had addressed themselves, and so soon after the death of two Princes who were so near him; this he conceived to be out of all reason. In the mean time, his Love to Panthea was so predominate, that he consulted not a minute with himself what to do, for he was fully resolved, as soon as he was King, to make her Queen; and not to accept of the Crown but to put in upon her head: On the other side, Perinthus did press the Prince of Clasomena with all his arguments to be gone from Sardis; but as good fortune for this Prince was, he fell so sick that the Journey was deferred: This was no small joy unto Abradates, who now see there was no such great haste required in his Transactions. But Madam, as it is the custom of the World to judge too rashly upon the thoughts of others, so, for two days after this news was brought unto Abradates, one would have said that he never had any thoughts of Panthea; and the conceit of it did so pleasingly flatter up Perinthus, that he resented real joys. Whilst these hopes were smoothing his fancy, the Deputies from Susa arrived; who after they had presented unto Abradates the fidelity of all his Subjects, rendered thanks unto Croessus from their Queen for the protection which he had given him during his unjust Exile, and assured him that she would always resent it as a great obligation upon her. After this Abradates, who had no mind to send either unto Panthea, or Doralisa, or me, until he had brought things to such a pass as he desired, went to Croessus in the morning, to tell him, that thinking he would never have been so averse to the Marriage of Panthea and himself, but because he would have no stranger Prince established within his Dominions, therefore he came to declare unto him, that he was ready to renounce all the Rights and Interests this Princess had or ever should have unto the Principality of Clasomena (if she would consent unto it as well as himself,) provided he would consent unto his Marriage with her. Croessus' hearing a Proposition so advantageous for himself, was much pleased with it, and promised to motion it unto the Prince of Clasomena: After which, Abradates returning most hearty thanks, and conjured him to keep his word, he went the same day unto the Prince of Clasomena to motion the Marriage between the Princess his daughter and the King of Susiana: and although he had not yet the consent of the Queen his Mother, yet he believed she would approve of any motion which should have the Authority of Cr●ssus to countenance it, who would never make the motion further than the Queen his Mother should give her consent, of which Abradates did make no question: The Deputies of Susa also, unto whom Abrabates had imparted his design, did so confidently assure him he would find no opposition from the Queen his Mother, that he did not fear he should incense her by it; and so much the less, because these Deputies told him, that all his Subjects (considering there was not a Princess in all his own Kingdom, nor in any of his neighbour Dominions, whom he could marry) would be wondrous well satisfied, if he brought them a Queen every way so illustrious as the Princess of Clasomena. Croessus then propounded this Match unto the Prince of Clasomena, and it seemed so advantageous unto him, that without any further consultation he accepted of it: so that Croessus, to lose no time, sent for Abradates, to the end they might dispatch away in all Post haste unto the Queen of Susiana. Since this could not be so closely carried but some Reports of it would fly about, a servant unto the Princess came to tell me with great earnestness, that all was concluded upon, the Match was made up, and the Princess was immediately to be Queen of Susiana. Though I indeed hoped such a thing might be so, yet I confess I was much surprised at the suddenness of it: so that in the first rapture of my Joy, after I had made the servant tell me how he came to know it, I writ presently a Letter unto Doralisa (who was with Perinthus at her own Lodging) to acquaint her with it, and as I remember these were the words:  
PHERENICE unto DORALISA.  
IF it be true (as I have often heard you say) that he who gives much, loves much, it must necessarily be concluded, that the King of Susiana loves the Princess more than ever any loved; since in giving her a Crown which is descended to him, he has given her more than ever any did: If you have a reasonable Soul, come and help the Prince to put it upon her head, and participate in the Joys of  
PHERENICE.  
Doralisa had no sooner read this Letter, but never thinking of the conceit she had, that Perinthus was in love with Panthea, she gave it him to read: See Perinthus, said she, what Pherenice has sent me, and go along with me immediately, for I should be vexed to the Soul, if any should have the start of me in rejoicing with the Princess. Perinthus then read the Letter; but he read with so great a perplexity of Soul, and turbulence in his looks, that Doralisa remembering her former conceits, How do you Perinthus? (said she unto him,) what troubles you so much? Is it possible that joy should work the same effects in you that sorrow and anger use to produce? For truly I see at one time in you both sadness, anger and despair, but I do not see the cause, unless my suspicions prove true, and that there be as much love in your heart, as there appears melancholy in your eyes. Ah Doralisa (cried he out) why was I not so happy as to die in fight with Mexaris, rather than live to see myself in such a miserable condition? I would I could conceal my follies as hitherto I have from you; but since I cannot choose but testify my passion by my grieving at the good fortune of the Princess Panthea, I had rather confess my crime, and have recourse unto your discretion, then to deny a truth unto you which you know but too well. I do confess therefore Doralisa, that I do love the Princess, and have loved her with as much zeal, as I now do, ever since I was capable of loving; but with such a violent zeal, as I wonder I have not died a thousand times: yet notwithstanding there was ever so much purity in my Love, that I never had the least hope, no nor so much as wished for any thing, but that she should never marry Abradates. Yet this Abradates who is going to marry her, is he who makes her a Queen, and sends me to my grave, and happy were I if I were in it before that fatal day of solemnisation. Perinthus pronounced all these words with so much vehemency, and in such a concerning manner, that the heart of Doralisa who did infinitely esteem him was much moved unto pity, and she began to comfort him: I ever imagined, said she unto him, that you were in love with the Princess, but I do confess I never thought your passion so violent. Oh Heavens, said he, could you ever think that one can love the Princess with any mediocrity? and how was it possible you should know (for know it you did) the Reason why I denied obedience unto the Princess Commands, in applying myself unto your service, and not believe my Love of her most violent? Did you not know that it was Panthea only that could hinder Perinthus from loving Doralisa? and there is no question, but since I did so highly esteem you, I should also have loved you, if my heart had not been already engaged, and therefore without any accusing me of insensibility towards you, I beseech you pity me, and help me to conceal, for a few days which I have to live, that which I have with so much care concealed all my life. But can you not possibly suit your mind unto your fortune? (said Doralisa:) Did you not ever know, that you could never hope for any thing from the Princess? no not so much as to endure your passion? Yes (replied the sad Perinthus, and sighed.) Why then are you desperate? (replied she:) Because the only man who I would not have had happy, answered he, is now upon the point of being so. This seems to be rather a symptom of hatred to Abradates, replied Doralisa, than any testimony of love to Panthea. Ha Doralisa, cried he out, how ignorant you are in the effects of Love! for if I did not love Panthea, certainly I should love Abradates: yes Doralisa, as predominate as my passion is, I must needs acknowledge him to be a most excellent qualified man; but the more excellencies he hath, the more I envy his good fortune, and the more he renders me miserable. Time, replied she, will happily cure you. Yes, if I live so long as to wait for its Remedies, answered he; but I believe I shall not, nor is it my desire. In the mean time, since I would not have my despair appear, and since it is impossible to to hide my sorrows, and since I cannot go to the Princess but I shall express some signs of my Love, it is my best course to retire myself. Since I have been a long time without my health, it will be an easy matter perhaps to make the world believe, that the indisposition of my body is the cause of the indisposition in my mind: this will hide the cause of my melancholy from those few which I shall see.  
Doralisa hearing Perinthus speak in this manner, did with all her arguments persuade him to strive with himself, and not to reclase himself from the society of the world; but she found no possibility to divert him from the design he intended, and therefore she left him: he desired her at parting not to speak a word of his passion unto the Princess, and I do not well know, whether he did not in his heart desire she would tell her something; yet she told her not a syllable, knowing very well that she could not understand of the passion he had to her, and the condition unto which he was brought, without either anger or sorrow, or perhaps both: But though she would not disturb her Joys in telling her of it, yet she told it unto me in particular, and when I saw she knew it as well as I, than I related unto her all that I did know; and truly both of us were so full of pity to him, and so sorry such a complete man as he was should be in such a miserable condition, that we apprehended the good fortune of the Princess with less satisfaction than otherwise we should: Yet since we hoped that time would be a Comforter unto him, it did not keep us from being very pleasant; and indeed Doralisa had a hundred jolly conceits upon the avarice of Mexaris and generosity of Abradates, which she told unto the Princess; she told her also that she was much happier than ever she hoped to be, in finding so soon that which she had sought for so long, and could never find, to wit, a complete man which never loved any but herself; then she desired the Princess that she would not command her any more to be kind unto Andramites, since now she had no more need of his solicitations unto Croessus: Since Andramites (replied the Princess) is a friend unto Perinthus, I should be very unwilling to cast him off. Doralisa was about to answer her, but the Princess prevented her, by ask where Perinthus was? wondering he did not present himself, and his compliments of joy: Doralisa would not tell her she came newly from him, but told her she knew not where he was: Then presently after, the Prince of Clasomena sent for Panthea, to tell her what his resolutions were, so that the rest of the day passed on without any thoughts of Perinthus. But the next day, when Abradates came to visit the Princess, as one whom he was to marry, and when she remembered that no news was heard all that while of Perinthus, she began to wonder, and to ask me whether I knew what was become of him? and when I said no, she sent one of her servants to him, and to tell him that she took it ill, he should not come to rejoice with her, for the happy success in her affairs; and that unless he were even at death door, she should have much ado to pardon this neglect. After he whom the Princess sent unto Perinthus had delivered this message; Tell the Princess, replied he, that since I shall obtain a pardon at my death, I shall hope e'er long to die in her favour, since certainly I shall not live long. Perinthus added unto this some compliments of course, but with such a weak trembling voice (as he who spoke unto him related unto the Princess) that she did really believe him to be very sick; and not doubting but the Physician which belonged to the Prince her Father had seen him, she sent unto him to know what Perinthus ailed, but she wondered when the Physician told her he had not seen him of late days.  
Doralisa who was then present, would have excused the matter, and said, that Perinthus happily had sent for some other Physician; but he who was there present assured the Princess that could not be: So that to be better satisfied in what condition Perinthus was, she commanded that Physician to go and see him from her, and to give her an account how he was. In the mean time Abradates thought himself in a heaven of happiness, and hoped nothing could interrupt his joys, yet did he not think his happiness fully complete, because he had not yet met with Perinthus, and intended the next day to give him a visit, and discourse of his joys unto him: But alas, this miserable Lover cared as little for his visit, as he did for the Physicians whom the Princess sent unto him, who in obedience unto her commands went the next morning to see him before the Sun was up, yet did he not find him asleep, for his cares would not permit him to rest one minute. As soon as he came into his Chamber, he saw his face so altered, that he made no question but he was more than ordinarily sick; he told him then, that he wondered he would not send for him, and afterwards told him what commands he had received from the Princess, to render unto her an account of his health. At the name of the Princess, Perinthus started up, for he yet knew not he came from her; afterwards composing himself, he told the Physician, that he was infinitely obliged unto the Princess for her cares of him, and that he was much beholding unto any that would undertake his cure, but yet he desired him to spare his labour, for he was persuaded all remedies were in vain; and therefore he was resolved to try what nature alone would do, and let all arts alone. Whilst Perinthus was saying so, the Physician laid his hand upon his arm, do what he could, and found that his Pulse was sometimes weak and slow, and sometimes quick and high; so that conceiving him to be in great need of helps, he did earnestly persuade him to use them so long that Perinthus was angry, and the Physician to submit unto his will, intending notwithstanding to acquaint the Princess with his condition, and of a great necessity he should be looked unto: Then he left him after Perinthus had desired him to thank the Princess for the cares she had of him, and conjured him to tell her, that he thought himself the most unfortunate man in the world, that he could not be a partaker of her joys, but was forced to lament, when all the world rejoiced at her Marriage. This Physician coming to the Princess, as soon as she was ready, she no sooner saw him, but she asked how Perinthus did; For I must confess, said he, since he hath been sick ever since he received a wound in my quarrel, I much desire to know in what condition he is. Madam, replied he, Perinthus is very ill, and which is the worst, he will neither tell what aileth him, nor take any remedies: What does he say unto you, replied the Princess? He says, that Nature only without all our art shall be his Physician (replied he) but for my part, I conceived that both Nature and Art, and all are too little to cure him.  
The Princess was much surprised when she heard him say so, and caused him to make an exact relation of all he had observed concerning the disease of Perinthus who indeed, as soon as he went from Doralisa's house, was constrained to go into bed; so much had the agitation of his mind augmented his gentle Fever, which his wound first caused, and which altered all his constitution. As the Princess was thus very busily enquiring concerning Perinthus, Abradates sent a Messenger to know how she did; and in return of his Compliment she sent him word that she was very well, were it not for her sorrows to hear Perinthus was very sick, and would not take any remedies. After which; she dressed herself, and went unto the Temple according to her usual manner, where she met Abradates, who presented his hand unto her as she came out of her Coach. Since the Princess did love Perinthus very well, she spoke of his sickness unto Abradates, at her coming out of the Church; and as he answered that he intended to go and see him, she said that she should be much obliged unto him for it, and desired him to use his best persuasions unto Perinthus to take some remedy, and to ask his Reasons why he had refused; telling Abradates, that her respects of Perinthus moved her unto that which she would not do for every one, and that his respects of her might perhaps move him to do that which he would not for another. Abradates, whose aims were all to please the Princess, and who besides did much respect Perinthus ever since he defended the Princess from being taken away by Mexaris, he no sooner parted from us, but he went unto this languishing Lover, who passed only for a sick man. You may easily imagine how the sight of this Prince did disorder his Soul, and what pains he took to disguise his thoughts. As soon as Abradates was set by his bedside, and that Compliments of course were passed; Is it possible (said he unto him most obligingly) that even then when Fortune has ceased all her persecutions against me, and when I am arrived at the height of my happiness, that Perinthus should mingle with my joys, so much sorrow in refusing to take such Remedies as may make him able to be a partaker with me in my happiness? Sir (replied Perinthus sadly) I perceive that the goodness of the Princess, who is pleased to interest herself in the life of her most faithful servant, hath moved you to speak thus: but if I be considered as really I am, I am most unworthy of this honour which I receive from you, so extremely unworthy, that if I durst I would entreat you to let me receive no more of it. You are much too modest Perinthus, replied Abradates, for though you were not every way so complete a man as you are in the eyes of all that look upon you, and were only the Defender of Panthea, yet your life deserves to be most dear unto me; but then being both a man rarely accomplished, and the Defender of my Princess, and also much my friend, doubtless it is my duty to move you unto any thing that may make you live, to live happily. At these words Perinthus fetched a profound sigh, and lifting up his eyes towards Heaven, he turned his head the other way to hide the changing of his complexion: Abradates observing the action of Perinthus, began to suspect, that his mind was more sick than his body; yet not imagining the true cause, he conjectured, that perhaps it was only because the Prince of Clasomena had yet done nothing for him, and that the Princess being to remove away, he should thereby lose his chief support: So that desiring to know whether these conjectures were rightly grounded, after some other discourse unto which Perinthus answered very little, he told him, how strange a thing it was to him, that he should refuse life now, when the Princess was more sweet and gracious towards him then ever she was. Ah Sir, cried he out, you judge of others by yourself, but there is a great difference betwixt you and me, and so very great, that I am sure the same which often makes you joyful, makes me sad; so fatally opposite is your lot and mine. What ever it be Perinthus, replied Abradates, I am most certain that if you live (as with all my Soul I wish you may) you shall be more happy than ever you were: for whether your mind be to go with us unto Susa, or to dwell in Clasomena, or to stay at Sardis, I do engage my promise to advance your fortunes unto such a degree, as that your ambition shall desire no higher. Were I a man of Reason, replied Perinthus, I should render you a thousand thanks, for giving such generous language unto a man who owes his life unto you: but alas Sir, there is such a horrid black melancholy at this present upon me, which makes me so unlike myself, that I cannot delight in any pleasant things: every thing which is not fatally sad incenseth me, and makes me angry, therefore I beseech you leave me to my self, either to mend or die quietly: But alas how can you mend, replied Abradates, unless you will apply your mind unto it? If I do not mend (replied he sharply) than I shall die, there's an end: But dear Perinthus, replied Abradates, the Princess Panthea, and myself shall grieve extremely for you, therefore think it not strange that I should earnestly persuade you to live: It is from the commands of the Princess that I desire you to have a care of yourself, and not thus obstinately to refuse all helps: The Princess (answered Perinthus, and qualified a little the agitation of his Spirits) does me a very great favour to remember me at such a time, when she hath better things to think upon: But alas Sir, one hath not power always to live when one pleaseth, no nor so much power as to wish it: I do confess, replied Abradates, there are some who groan under such heavy sorrows, as that sometimes they are not Masters of their own desires: But for you Perinthus, Why should you fall into such despair? All the world honours your virtues; the Prince of Clasomena loves you, the Princess his Daughter esteems you as much as is possible, and I promise you a most safe and welcome protection: If after all these your sorrows do continue, I shall believe that Doralisa had reason to think you were in Love: But suppose you were Perinthus, yet despair not, for truly could one be more unfortunate, or further from the enjoyment of his desires, than I was of Panthea? and yet you see a happy turn has wheeled about my Fate: I do see it (said Perinthus, and sighed) but I do not see which way its possible I can be less miserable than I am. However Sir, may you enjoy your felicity in peace, but I beseech you leave me to suffer those miseries for which I seek no remedy, and unto which if you offer any, your labour will be lost. Abradates' seeing, that the more he talked to him, the more he incensed him, did rise up to go away, telling him he was very sorry that he was compelled to carry the Princess such unwelcome news. Perinthns' then conjecturing by the speech of this Prince, that as soon as he was gone from him, he would go unto Panthea, he presently changed his mind; for whereas before he did all he could to get him gone, now he endeavours to stay him longer, thinking it some satisfaction to keep Abradates from the pleasure of seeing Panthea. It is most true, that all his language unto this Prince was so ill-composed, and so little sometimes to the purpose, that he began to suspect the true cause of Perinthus his despair; so that after he had answered three or four times unto those questions which this languishing Lover used to keep him the longer with him, he left this Lovesick Lover, and went unto the Princess, but found her not at first, because she was busy, yet he stayed with me until she came unto him. Since his suspicions of Perinthus his Love did much disquiet him, he seemed unto me very reserved, and taking upon me the liberty to ask him, why he was so melancholy at a time of so much happiness towards him, he told me that the sickness of Perinthus did much trouble him: Afterwards, representing unto me the restlessness which he observed in his mind, he perceived that I knew something of the cause, not that I spoke a word which might make him think so; but because it seems it was my misfortune to let any eyes often discover the secret of my heart: All this while Abradates would not speak out his thoughts unto me, but we stood and spoke to each other very seldom, yet did perfectly understand the thoughts of one another. But after we had a while stood in this silent posture, Abradates desired me not to tell the Princess what he would tell me; and protesting unto me that he would never reveal what I should tell unto him; after which, he asked me whether I did not think Perinthus in Love with Panthea, and whether I did not believe as he did, that his Marriage with her was the cause of his sickness? I know not Sir, said I unto him, whether it be so or no, but I am sure the Princess does not know of it: No, no, Pherenice, (said he unto me) there is not the least spark of jealousy in me, but many of pity to him; the esteem that I have grounded of Panthea is so fully rooted in me, that though she had a whole thousand of Lovers at her feet imploring favours, I should never think her capable of the least weakness; therefore I conjure you to tell me ingenuously, whether you think I have not reason for my conjecture? for if you shall confirm me in my belief, I shall endeavour to find out some ways to comfort poor Perinthus, at the least, though I cannot cure him. But Sir, (said I unto him) there needs no thoughts of Peri●thus his being in Love with Panthea, to prompt you unto any endeavours of his comfort or cure, since you esteem him sufficiently without that, to induce you unto that charitable office: I see Pherenice, said he unto me, that you have no disposition to be sincere, yet I must tell you, Perinthus will die if he be not well looked unto: And I do confess, that since I am his debtor for the safety of Panthea, I should be exceedingly troubled if he should any way miscarry. But Sir, said I unto him, suppose all you imagine were true, yet what Remedy is there? Only this, replied Abradates, to persuade the Princess, that she will please to command him not to despair. As he said so, Panthea came into the Chamber, and no sooner saw him, but she asked how Perinthus did? and what he thought of his sickness? Madam, said he unto her, Perinthus hath told me many things, and to so little purpose, that I conceive his mind is more sick than his body; and for my part, I think he stands more in need of some comforts then any physic. Yet I do not know, said she, that any misfortune hath happened unto him. It is most true (said he unto her) there appears none unto us; but perhaps there is some happiness which is befallen another which much grieves him. Perinthus, replied she, is not of any envious disposition, no not of his very enemies, unless Mexaris, whose happiness indeed I think he would envy. However it be, Madam, said he, I am afraid Perinthus will die, if you do not take a care of his life. Abradates' spoke this in such a manner, as let the Princess see there was some secret meaning in his words: so that not knowing what to think, she changed colour and discourse. All the rest of the day her thoughts ran upon what Abradates told her: yet notwithstanding after he was gone, not daring to tell us what she thought of Perinthus, nor being willing to give over her cares of him, unto whom she was obliged, she desired Doralisa to go and visit him, and appointed me to accompany her, hoping to be better informed at our Return than she had been by Abradates. Doralisa and I were glad of this employment, and went with joy, thinking we had so much power over the spirits of Perinthus, as might move him to cheer up his spirits, and use all Remedies to live: but alas, Madam, we found ourselves extremely deceived; for the visit of Abradates had so incensed his sorrows, and augmented his disease, that we could not look upon him without extreme compassion: yet was he something satisfied that he might talk with us, and commanded all to go out of the Chamber, that he might with more freedom express himself: But as soon as we began to chide him for refusing all helps; No, no, said he unto us, I ought not to think upon life; and provided I might but die before the King of Susiana married the Princess Panthea, I should not at all think myself miserable; but I fear I cannot avoid this misfortune.  
It is so far between Sardis and Susa, replied I, that I hope it will be perfectly cured, both of your miseries of mind and body before they can get thither; or before they can be married. Sure you do not know, replied he, that there arrived within this hour a Messenger from the Queen of Susiana, who hearing of the affection which the Prince her Son did bear unto the Princess Panthea, sent unto him to continue his Love, and that she consented unto his Marriage: So that Abradates having now no rub in his way, will infallibly marry her, and make me absolutely despair, if death do not speedily deliver me. Doralisa and I did much wonder that Perinthus considering his condition should know the news before us, yet we imagined it not impossible but Andramites might be his Intelligencer, and therefore were doubted not of the truth. And after this (said he unto us) I hope you are not so inhuman as to wish me live any longer; but if the Princess did command you to persuade me, I pray you do not obey her: yet if the Princess did know my passion, and after that had so much goodness or cruelty (for I know not which of these two Epithets to use) as to bid me live, perhaps I should strive to obey her, and use some vain remedies to prevent death: but alas, you know very well that she is ignorant I love her, neither dare I desire she should know: yet if you shall think it expedient to let her know it when I am dead, and that she will not hate my memory for it, I conjure you to tell her, and beg my pardon for not rejoicing at her happiness: But since I limited all my hopes to endeavour she should love none, and see all those hopes ruined, do not think it strange if I tell you, that I cannot endure to live: Nor is it less expedient for the tranquillity of Panthea, than my own, that I die: For how is it possible I ever should be Master of my Raptures and of my Passion: 'Tis true, I have been hitherto, but it is because I did not see Abradates in his happiness, nor in possession of the Princess; Far better than had I die, then disturb her happiness which I prefer before my own. Did ever any see more lamentable destinies than mine (did he say unto us,) for I desire no other favour of Fortune to complete my contentment, but that one of my Rivals may not be in favour, and I cannot obtain so much as it: I did resolve to hide my passion as long as I lived; I mastered myself so far as not to desire she should love me, but satisfied myself with the bare esteem of Panthea: but though I confined myself unto more narrow limits then ever any Lover was able to do, yet I perceive Abradates becomes as happy as I am miserable. However (said I unto him) be satisfied with this, that you have no cause to complain either against your Rival, or your Princess whom you loved. Ah Pherenice (cried he out) that which you think should satisfy me, is it which sends me unto black despair, since certainly I should have less cause to complain, if I could complain with Justice of any but myself. But since you are so full of Reason, replied Doralisa, why do you not follow it? Because I have eyes, replied he, yet am such a slave as that I cannot see: I see the way which I ought to take for the recovery of my Liberty; but alas, I am chained too fast to follow it; and nothing but death is strong enough to break those chains: And therefore if you be as much my friends as I believe you are, you will not blame me, nor desire me to live; yet have I one favour to beg of you (said he unto us in such a manner as would have moved a heart of stone) which I conjure you not to deny me, and that is, to find out some expedient if it be possible, that my adored Princess may not marry Abradates until the day after my death: The term will be but short, said he, for if I be not much deceived, four days is my longest limits. I should desire, said he, a sight of my divine Princess before I die, but that were to desire to be more miserable, and is too much for a despicable Lover.  
I confess Madam, when Doralisa and I heard Perinthus speak thus, we were so exceedingly moved unto pity, that we could not refrain from tears; and so we wept with him, since we could not work any more upon him, and so left him with a promise to see him again: yet we used all possible arguments to cheer up his spirits before we parted, yet all in vain. Then did we return unto the Princess extremely melancholy, and in the way considered what we should say unto her, but could not resolve whether or no it were best to tell her that she was the cause of Perinthus his death. But the truth is, we were eased of that trouble, for she herself apprehended as much by the discourse of Abradates; so that when we came unto her, and related the lamentable condition of Perinthus, I perceived she understood the matter as well as we did: for when I told her, it would be very well if she herself would be pleased to go and bid him live; I know very well (answered she and blushed) that I am obliged to take care of his life; but I know also, that if Perinthus have a Soul so full of sorrow, he will not obey me. He will obey none then, replied Doralisa; but however Madam, if you go unto him, and use your best endeavours, than there is no fault in you if he die. After this, Panthea excused herself as much as possibly she could from seeing Perinthus, not telling her true Reason, because her modesty would not permit her to speak her thoughts: But at last Doralisa, using her accustomed freedom with the Princess, told her all we knew, and with so much art, and obligingly for Perinthus, that the Princess was no less sorry than angry to hear of his passion to her. Panthea at first seemed to hide her resentments from us; but afterwards she confessed that the death of Perinthus would trouble her, and would seem so bad an omen unto all the rest of her life, that she durst not hope to pass it happily. Then did she chide us a hundred times because we did not cure Perinthus of his passion, thinking that Reason were sufficient physic to cure that disease. Afterwards, since we did importune her unto a visit of this languishing Lover, she was as far from consenting unto it, as we were urgent: Madam, said I unto her, he knows not that we have revealed his secret; and questionless you would have done him this charitable favour, if you had not suspected his Love. It is sufficient that I now know it, said she, to keep me from seeing him: not but that I should be extremely sorry for the death of a man unto whom I am much obliged for defending me from the power of Mexaris; yet I cannot do as you desire me: Moreover, if he do love me, my sight will rather hasten then prevent his death, since he cannot see me but with abundance of sorrow. Since he desires it (said I unto her) methinks it would be too inhuman to deny him that favour. You do not apprehend what Abradates might think (replied she) if he should know Perinthus loved me, and that I should visit him. You may ask him leave if you please, replied I, for I see him enter: And Doralisa, in pursuance of what I said, no sooner saw Abradates with the Princess, but she addressed herself unto him; Is it not true Sir, said she, that the Princess is obliged to visit Perinthus? There is no question of it, replied he; and if to induce her unto it there want only an addition of my petition unto yours, I shall most willingly make it unto her; and I am verily persuaded, that if he will not mend upon the sight of her, he will die within a few days. Since the Princess would not tell Abradates the true Reason which restrained her, she spoke so faintly, that he perceived she might be persuaded, so that he became very importune with her: But at the last his urgency and ours together prevailed, though it put the Princess to the blush, to think how Abradates would take it, and certainly none could carry it with more generosity than he did upon this occasion: For since he had a high confidence of Panthea's heart, and her virtues, he was extremely urgent with her to visit Perinthus, and to use her best endeavours to save his life, yet he made this condition with her, which if Perinthus had known, certainly would have furthered his death, which was, that if he recovered, she should never see him again. After this, she desired Abradates would be present with her at this charitable visit, but he would not upon any terms. To relate unto you Madam all the passages of this visit, is impossible; let it suffice to tell you, that Perinthus did strive to die twenty times whilst the Princess was present; sometimes one might see him in the depth of sorrows; presently after, some sparks of joy would glance in his eyes, as near death as he was; then in an instant, despair would so stifle his Spirits, that one could not understand what he said; but for all this, he still kept a most profound reverence unto the Princess, he thanked her for the honour she did him, telling her, that since he had this honour once more to see her, he had nothing else to do in the world but die: And when she commanded him to take some helps, he stayed a while silent, then upon a sudden lifting up his eyes unto her: Madam, said he, If you did but know what you wish me, when you desire I should live, you would unwish it again: For indeed Madam (added he in a languishing tone) when Doralisa thought me to be in Love, she was not mistaken: I am in Love Madam, and I should not die at this time, but because I am in Love: And since you were ignorant of my miseries, you are excusable in wishing me to live, because you thought I might perhaps be happy. This is all Madam, that the respects I owe you will permit me to speak of my miseries and misfortunes.  
Perinthus pronounced these last words so weakly, that one would have feared he would immediately expire, for his sorrows did so overwhelm all his faculties, that for a quarter of an hour together he was speechless; but yet since he did not lose his sight and understanding, he had the consolation to see some tears drop from the eyes of the Princess, yet did she hide them as well as she could, and not being able to stay any longer in sight of so sad an object, she went forth: After she had appointed all the Physicians, both of Croessus and others to come unto him, they did unanimously conclude he could not escape, but indeed would die within a short time, and indeed it proved so: It was conceived, that the sight of the Princess, which we procured as a remedy, was his dispatch, and he died that night following, and was as universally lamented, as ever was any in the world: The Princess was so grieved, that she could not hide some part of her sorrows, lest Abradates should imagine that she knew something of Perinthus his passion, before she told him: But this Prince had a greater confidence in her, then to entertain the least unjust thought; and therefore he did not think it strange, she should grieve for a man unto whom she was much obliged, and for whom he grieved himself. Thus the poor Perinthus, had the honour to be lamented by his Mistress with her tears, to be grieved for by his Rival, and his Master, who did visit him in his sickness, and had all imagineable care of him; his death did for a time defer the Marriage of Abradates, for it did so exceeding perplex Panthea, that she was not well eight days after, during which time, news was brought, that the Prince Mexaris was dead of his wounds and sorrows, so that the Court went into mourning, though his death did not much trouble us: However, so many sad accidents in so short a time did disquiet the Princess, yet notwithstanding her causes of joy were sufficient to sweeten all these sorrows; and fifteen days after her Marriage with Abradates was accomplished without any ceremony, because of the death of Mexaris, and all magnificence was deferred until we came to Susa, whither within a few days after we went, in an equipage suitable to the quality and liberality of Abradates: The Princess had the comfort to carry Doralisa with her, notwithstanding all the endeavours of Andramites, and the Prince Myrsiles, though the reasons of this Prince was unknown unto us: So this pleasant Lady did never forsake her, but could not meet with this accomplished Gallant which she had been so long in quest of, in Susa no more than in Sardis. I shall not need to relate unto you Madam, how the Princess Panthea was received by her fair Mother in Law, nor how Abradates lived with her since she was married, until the day that Fortune parted them, and the fate of Arms brought her under the power of the illustrious Cyrus: For if I should relate the whole story, perhaps I should not find belief, at least in setting forth the King of Susiana's passion, which certainly was more violent than any expressions can set forth, yet not more than hers to him; and therefore I will say no more, but most humbly beseech your pardon, for dressing the story of two illustrious persons of such extraordinary virtues, with such mean and common language.  
The pardon you desire (replied Araminta unto Pherenice) is easily obtained, and as just to deny it (said Cyrus) since she needs it not. Pherenice replied unto the compliment of Cyrus with much civility; after which, Araminta and he began to discourse of Panthea's virtues, of Abradates his liberality, and of Doralisa's pleasant humour: But since by this time it was late, Cyrus took his leave of this Princess, and went to Panthea's Chamber, to take his leave of her also, and to thank her, for that she was pleased to let him know her adventures; he assured her, that Pherenice had made an elegant relation of them, and asked her pardon, that the Laws of War, his fidelity to Ciaxares, and his interest in Mandana, would not yet permit him to restore her unto the King her Husband, beseeching her to believe, that it was not without extreme sorrow he should so long separate two such illustrious persons; after which, passing towards Doralisa, unto whom Araspes was talking, he bestowed a compliment upon her, telling her he wished for the honour of Araspes, that she might find him to be the complete man she sought after: At least, said he, he never yet was in Love with any: I assure you Sir, (said she, and smiled) If you do think as you say, you do not know him so well as I do, for I never saw so many signs of Love in Perinthus, since the first time I knew him, as I have observed in him, since this short acquaintance. Araspes blushed at this reply of Doralisa, and made but a poor defence for himself: But since other things came into the mind of Cyrus, he stayed no longer, but departed with Ligdamis, and all the rest of his company. Crisantes at that time came unto him, and rendered an account of all those Warlike Engines, which by his orders were preparing; and since he assured him, that all the works were closely followed, he was exceedingly pleased in his conceits, that ere long he should be in a condition, either to vanquish his enemies, or die for his Princess Mandana.   
The end of the first Book in the fifth Part.   

ARTAMENES, OR The Grand CYRUS. The Fifth Part. BOOK. II.  
CYrus was no sooner come unto the Camp, but he sent to tell the King of Phrygia, that the Queen of Susiana, and the Princess of Pontus had writ so effectually in behalf of the Prince Artamas, that he hoped for a happy success of Aglatidas his voyage: The day following, he dispatched an Envoy unto Ciaxares, to acquaint him with all passages, and to beseech him to send me more Forces, to the end, that if Thomiris should attempt any thing against him, he might keep himself still in a posture of defence, until he had finished the War wherein he was engaged, and released the Princess Mandana: After which, he thought upon nothing but taking the Field, and by some memorable exploit to repair the misfortune which lately he received: And in order to that, his daily business was to see how the Warlike Instruments which he had given orders for went on, and in what forwardness they were; he went from Quarter to Quarter, taking private Musters of every particular Troop, before he came to a General Rendezvous, waiting impatiently for that happy day on which he should set forward into the Enemy's Country: Since he had made a promise unto Ligdamis, never to engage him unto any thing which might be against his honour and generosity, he would never motion it unto him, to move his Father for a passage over the River by the Castle of Hermes; nor would he in consideration of him, think of rendering himself Master of it by force of Arms, but resolved to force a passage nearer Sardis, at a place where there was a Bridge, and a little Town very well fortified, which he must of necessity take, before he could pass over the River. In the mean time, he had daily intelligence that the Army of Croessus did much increase: He understood also, that the Egyptians which Amasis had promised unto Croessus, were arrived by Sea; that the Thracians also joined with him, and indeed that his Army was grown very numerous, that the most firtil Country of all Asia would have much and to supply it. He understood also by his Spies, that this vast Army which was now upon the Banks of Pactolus assembled, would within this few days advance unto a place called Thybarras, whither all the Subjects of Croessus had orders to bring their victual for the accommodation of the Camp, every City and Town being taxed and rated at a certain quantity, which they were required to furnish out. Cyrus then understanding that his Enemies would presently come unto him, if he went not unto them, did forecast how to prevent them: And in order to that, he commanded a General Muster of all his Army, which he found to consist of about a hundred and forty thousand Men: he held a Council of War, to consult how he might assault the Town of Nisomolis, where he was to pass the River; The King of Phrigia: the King of Hyrcania, the Prince Tigran●● Phraartes, Persodes, Gobrias, Gadates, Hidaspes, Adusius, Chrisantes, Artabases, and many others, were of this Council: Where it was Resolved, That they should not make a formal regular Siege of it, but that it were better to lose some Soldiers in storming of it, then to lie linger before it until the Enemy came to relieve it with his whole Army. This was no sooner resolved upon, but Cyrus thought how to execute it: so that the day following his Troops began to draw forth: yet the first day he made a false March, purposely to deceive the Enemy; and indeed they were much deceived: for making no question but Cyrus intended to pass the River at the Castle of Hermes, and thither therefore they sent away the greatest part of their Forces, contenting themselves with as many only as would keep the Garrison of Nisomolis.  
As Cyrus never used to neglect any thing that was his duty, he went to take his leave of the Queen of Susiana, and the Princess Araminta; Most of the Princes in his Company did the same, and amongst the rest Phraartes, whose passion did daily increase, though the coldness of the Princess should rather have lessened it. The Conference of Cyrus with these two Princesses was upon some things of concernment; he did yet comfort them as much as he could, always assuring them that he aimed at nothing but Mandana's releasement; and that if the Fate of Arms were so favourable to him, he would for their sakes remember the persons who amongst his Enemies were so dear unto them; After which he took horse, and went on his Journey. In the mean time, maugre the remembrance of so many angry Oracles and fatal Predictions which might well have made the heart of Cyrus to tremble, yet he did gloss his sorrows so well, that all the Soldiers who were ignorant of them did march with as much alacrity, as they were wont to do when they went unto a certain Victory: And when they saw Cyrus put on his Arms and take horse, there appeared a most noble Fury in his eyes; and indeed this Prince was so unlike himself when he prepared to fight, or give out Military Orders, that there was not a greater alteration in the countenance of the Pythian when she gave her Oracles, then in the face of Cyrus when the sword was in his hand: One would have said that a new spirit did animate him, and that he himself was become the God of War; his complexion grew high and lively, his eyes more sparkling, his action more free, his voice more clear, and every way more majestical: so that at his least beck, he struck terror into the Souls of all about him: Yet did there always appear a calm serenity in his Soul, maugre this heroic agility, which made him perpetually change his place, and be in every place to give Orders throughout all; and certainly he did it with so much prudence, as never any could ever tax him with commanding any thing to an ill purpose: Also, he was always obeyed with most exact diligence, and blind obedience; as soon as ever he spoke the word, all were ready to execute; and his presence had something in it so divine and terrible both, that when he was in the head of his Army, only with his all-commanding Truncheon in his hand, one might very well say, he made both his Friends and his Enemies to tremble, and wrought different effects in the hearts of both: for his Enemies out of very fear did often fly; and his Friends out of fear to displease him, became incomparably more valiant: and certainly that divine heat which warmed his heart, and sparkled in his eyes, did communicate itself throughout the Army, and begot such an ardent desire of fight, as was often a great Cause of Victories.  
Thus did Cyrus appear when he had a sword in his hand, and in the head of his Army, when he went to storm the Town of Nisomolis. Since it was very concerning to carry it in a short time, do what the King of Phrigia and Hyrcania could, he himself would needs be the first that fell on; and many have assured me, that he carried the first Ladder, and was first upon the Enemy's Rampart: This is without all dispute, that had he not been there this little Town would have held out, maugre all our men, above eight days, yet by his incomparable valour it was reduced in less than twenty four hours, with the loss of very few men; though half of the Garrison was cut in pieces, and the rest listed themselves under Cyrus. Thus did the King of Lydia in a little time lose a most considerable Pass over the River Hermes, and at least three thousand of his best Soldiers. This good beginning put joy into the whole Army of Cyrus, and struck such a terror into all the Country along the River Hermse, as if all Lydia were conquered.  
In the mean time, after a Garrison was put into the Town, Cyrus caused all his Forces to pass over the Bridge at Nisomolis, so that in a day and half this great Army did overspread all the Neighbouring fields, carrying with it such a horrid fear, that from the banks of the River Hermes, unto the River Pactolus, there was not a Lydian heart which did not tremble, the Army of Croessus itself was astonished; yet since it was much more numerous than that of Cyrus, it presently took heart again: But since some of their Forces were not yet come up. Croessus was not overforward to take the field, but thought it most expedient, to let the fury of this storm which made such a noise to cool a little, conjecturing, that the Army of Cyrus would lessen, whilst his increased; yet he sent 20000. men under the conduct of Andramites to check the over-forwardness of Cyrus his Army, until such time as he was ready to march; and still confiding in the Oracle which he received from Delphos so much, that though his Army had been weak, as it was strong, yet should he hope for Victory, and that he should ruin the Empire which Cyrus was in expectation of. In the mean while, Cyrus possessed himself of all passages, became Master of the Field, and left not a Town on his back which could annoy him, but took all in his way, and terror was spread so far, that most did render themselves as soon as his Forces approached: That which did most move them unto it, was because Cyrus did treat all those who did not resist him with much sweetness, not permitting a Soldier to offer the least insolency unto them; but on the contrary, those who did resist the progress he intended to release his dear Mandana, they felt the weight of his Arm, and found too late, that it was no wisdom to undertake more than they were able to make good, and by consequence more than they ought to do: After than he had made sure of all places which could any way annoy him, he entrenched himself, advantageously, within a day's march and a half of Sardis, as well to rest his Troops, and refresh his Army, as to inquire concerning the Enemy, also to expect the return of Aglatidas, yet did not a day pass away without some skirmish or other; for since the 20000. men under the command of Andramites were entrenched upon the Banks of a little River that was within 300. paces of us, there was skirmishes continually, the success whereof was not always equal: Sometimes the Party of Croessus would have the better, yet commonly they were always beaten, so that prisoners were every day taken and brought unto Cyrus, who would always examine them himself, not only for better information of all advantages, but to ask them if they knew any thing concerning the Princess Mandana; for since sometimes there was some Officers amongst them, he pumped some things out of them which he desired to know; he inquired not only of Mandana, but also of his Rivals. He understood also by them, that there was a straner, a gallant Cavalier, and an admirable handsome man, who of late came into the Party of Croessus, who then was with Andramites, and had made himself very eminent in many small skirmishes which had passed, yet could not any of these prisoners tell his quality, only he called himself Telephanes: And indeed every Party which went out, found that there was one man above all the rest of the Lydians which was of an extraordinary valour, and made always a most gallant resistance, so that the name of Telephanes was cried up, both amongst his friends and enemies: Though Cyrus was not capable of any envious thoughts, yet the fame of this Telephanes made him often desire to meet with him, so that he would often go out in these small Parties, in hopes to encounter him, but he could not meet with him: But afterwards, checking himself for any such thoughts, conceiving it a piece of weakness in him to desire combat with any but his Rivals, he gave over all his thoughts of Telephanes, and his mind was employed only how to hasten on his Victory or his Defeat, though he could not choose but after so many dire predictions put some doubts of a good success. However, he understood the day following, that the King of Pontus was come into the Enemy's Camp, and that it was he who was to command the Vanguard.  
Cyrus no sooner heard that this Ravisher of his Princess was so near him, but he had a much more hot desire of fight, which prompted him to act something, before it came to main Battle: And though he knew that all these petty advantages which every day they got, were nothing to decide the matter, and that under a general defeat of this great Army, he should never release Mandana, yet he thought, that if he could either kill or take the King of Pontus, it would conduce much unto a Victory, and to the liberty of the Princess: So that to do both, he attempted the day following to force his Enemy, and make him quit that quarter wherein he was entrenched: But the Enemy was so advantageously seated, that it would be a most difficult task to drive them out under 10000 men, yet nothing was impossible to Cyrus, whose valour nothing could resist, and if the night had not impeaded his Victory, he had carried it: His Enemy did lose such a number of men in this assault, that he might well be satisfied, though during the combat, he met neither with the King of Pontus, nor Telephanes, who was reported to carry one dead painted upon his Buckler, with this Motto, I have deserved it; yet was Cyrus much perplexed that he could not meet with his Rival, and he was considering which way he might the next morning enforce the Enemy out of his Trenches, when he saw Aglatidas returned, and coming to him, he was no sooner entered into his Tent, but with open arms he embraced him: Well my dear Aglatidas (said he unto him) How does my Princess? and how do they treat her at Sardis? Sir, replied he, they guard her so strictly, that it was impossible for me to give you an exact account how she doth, yet I know she is in health, and that they wait upon her with much respect: But since she is in the Citadel, as well as the Princess Palmis, whom they guard as strictly as the Princess Mandana, it is not in the power of Feraulas, as witty as he is, to find out any means of sending any message unto Martesia, yet for all that I have seen the Princess: How, said Cyrus, have you seen her, and not spoke unto her? I saw her Sir, replied he, upon the top of a Tower in the Citadel, where she came every evening to walk with the Princess of Lydia; but the ditches were so very broad, and the Tower so high, that I could only see her, and perhaps unseen myself, yet methought one of her Women which waited, made a sign unto me with her hand, but I durst not answer it. However Feraulas sees her every day in the same place, for the place where the prisoners of War is lodged, is over against that Tower: Then it seems the King of Assyria (replied Cyrus very hastily) does see my Princess, as the rest do? And more than any of the rest, said Aglatidas, for he is perpetually in the Window of his Chamber, which opens that way. Ah Aglatidas (cried Cyrus out) What sad news is this you tell me? Sir, replied he, Let it not at all trouble you, since certainly that Prince is not any thing the happier for it, because by special Orders from the King of Pontus, who is in high favour with Croessus, he is so strictly guarded, that this Prince cannot possibly have so much liberty as to send any Letters or message unto the Princess Mandana. Cyrus then, calming the agitation of his spirits, by hearing a thing so agreeable to his wish, commanded Aglatidas to make an exact relation of all his journey, first ask him of the health of the Prince Artamas, and of all the rest of the Prisoners, especially of Feraulas in particular. After that, Aglatidas had told him, that the Prince Artamas was out of all danger, and that the stranger Anaxaris, Feraulas, Sosicles, and Tegeus were all well, he told him, how he found Croessus at Sardis, who treated him very civilly; that after he had read his Letter, he told him, that his recommendations were dear unto him, excepting what related unto the Prince Artamas, assuring him, that he should have his answer in the morning; that afterwards, he desired permission to present a Letter unto the King of Pontus from the Princess his Sister, and another from the Queen of Susiana unto the King her Husband, unto which he accorded, causing him to be conducted unto those two Princes by some of his guard: But I pray tell me, (said Cyrus,) Were not the King of Pontus and Abradates in the Camp? No Sir, replied Aglatidas, for they were at a Council of War, which was held near the Town, and the King of Pontus was ready to set forward to command the Vanguard: But to tell you Sir, how Abradates received me is impossible; but I am most certain, he loves the Queen Panthea with a most extraordinary affection, and he had no sooner read her Letter, but he assured me, that he would be a Protector, not only unto all such prisoners as were taken during the War, as well as those now at Sardis, but he would be ready to do any thing that generosity would permit him, with a hundred obliging and sweet expressions unto me: After which, being desirous to execute the orders of Panthea that very hour, he went unto Croessus, as I shall tell you, after I have related unto you how the King of Pontus did treat me: I am confident (replied Cyrus) that he hath not forgot to be generous: Certainly Sir, replied Aglatidas, I was much surprised at this manner of behaviour; for Sir, you never did any favour which he does not exactly remember, he calls you his Protector and Liberator, he protested that he hated ingratitude, and swore unto me, that he would protect the Prince Artamas, and all the Prisoners, more for your sake, then for the Princess his Sister: Then he carried me unto Croessus, and I was a witness of all that the King of Susiana and he did plead in behalf of Artamas and the rest: Croessus did obstinately affirm, that the Prince of Phrigia ought not to be treated as a Prisoner of War, but to be proceeded against as a Delinquent to the State: And these two Princes did most zealously maintain the contrary, telling him, that he had no Right at all unto that Prince, but what the Fortune of War did entitle him unto.  
However, the matter could not be that day resolved, no nor the next day, though Croesus promised to dispatch me: During which time, by the King's permission, I visited all the Prisoners: I understood from Feraulas, that the King of Assyria was known before he came into Sardis; and that since his Imprisonment he is extremely melancholy, that he should not have the glory of aiding you in the Princess Mandana's Releasement, and that he was forced to be obliged unto you for his Liberty; and he charged me to express his sorrows unto you, that he was not to be Partaker with you in the dangers of this War, and desiring me to put you in memory of your Promises. As for the Prince Artamas Sir, he charged me with a hundred obliging Messages unto you, as well as Anaxaris, Sosicles, and Tegeus. Whilst I was with these illustrious Captives, Abradates and the King of Pontus finding Croesus very resolute, told him, that there was two persons who were infinitely dear unto them in your Power, and that they had great Reason to fear their usage if Artamas was treated otherwise then as a Prisoner of War: Unto which he answered, that as long as Mandana was in his Power, there was no fear of either the Queen of Susiana or the Princess Araminta. As Abradates was more earnest in the business than the King of Pontus, he spoke something home unto Croesus, telling him that he saw he was much deceived; for he believed that if he had desired Prince Artamas to be exchanged for the Queen his Wife, he would not have denied him that favour; but it seems he was so far from granting him that favour, as at his request he would not let him be in the ordinary Conditions of War: Adding many other things, unto which Croesus answered so roughly, as I am very much mistaken, if the heart of Abradates was not much exasperated against him: For when I came to receive his Answer, I heard him relate the business unto one of his friends in a low voice, and in such a manner as I conceive as much. However, at last the King of Pontus and he did bend Croesus unto their desires; so that I received as good an Answer as I could wish. In taking my leave of Abradates, he charged me with a Letter unto the Queen his Wife: and appointed me to tell you Sir, that if he were absolute Disposer of Affairs, he would not only protect the Prince Artamas, but release him: Adding unto all this a Chain of Gold with a Medal, on which was the Picture of Panthea, which he desired me to take, to put me in remembrance (as he said) to tell you Sir, That there was one man amongst your Enemies, who infinitely desires the honour to be your Friend. Sir, said I then unto him, I beseech you excuse me from receiving such a magnificent gift, as may render me suspected unto the Prince I serve. Since your Master's merit, replied he, is a stronger and more precious Chain to tie you unto his service then any I am able to give, he will never suspect such a man as you of any subornation. At last, there was no remedy but I must submit unto the liberality of Abradates, and accept it. Afterwards I went unto the King of Pontus, who gave me his Answer unto the Princess Araminta his Sister, and who charged me to tell you Sir, that you may ever expect any thing in the World from him which was not prejudicial unto his Love. After this, Aglatidas presenting the King of Lidia's Letter unto his hands, he there found these words:  
CROESUS unto CYRUS.  
WHat cause soever I have to treat the Prince Artamas as a Delinquent against my State, yet I assure you, that at your instance, and the desires of those two Princes who did second you, I shall treat him only as a Prisoner of War; and that with much civility and sweetness. I wish I may often be in a condition to do you the like offices; and that I may never be necessitated to receive the like from you.  
CROESUS'.  
Fortune shall then forsake me (said Cyrus in answer to his own thoughts, and the King of Lidia's Letter:) After which embracing Aglatidas, he asked him whether he had heard of a stranger of high reputation in Sardis, whose name was Telephanes? Oh Sir, said Aglatidas, I had forgot to tell you, that the talk in Sardis is of nothing else but his valour and gallant importment; yet none knows who he is: However, added he, if the ●●idians are to be believed, their Army is so vast and strong, that Victory is made sure of: However, they will give us leave to dispute for it with them, replied Cyrus. After which sending Aglatidas unto the King of Phrigia, to give him an account of the success in his Voyage, he spent the rest of the day which he had designed for his own rest, upon contemplation of the present state of his fortunes; and to contrive ways how to release his Princess. Doubtless it was a great consolation unto him to hear that the King of Pontus was in the Army, and that the King of Assyria could not send unto Mandana. Nor am I altogether unfortunate, said he, since my Princess is in a place where she may think upon me with freedom: But how do I know, said he, whether or no she thinks well of me? Have I not more reason to fear that she thinks upon me as the cause of all her misfortunes? and remembers me with horror in lieu of tenderness? Perhaps the same Gods which promised the King of Assyria that he should see an end of all his misery, and that he should have the glory to hear Mandana sigh for him, did make him a Prisoner purposely to hasten his happiness; and it may be she pities him whilst she accuseth me, and at this very hour as I am speaking of her, he has a greater share in her thoughts and affection than I have. But most unjust man that I am (said he, and reprehended himself) why do I accuse the most perfect person upon Earth of any inconstancy? She, I say, who hath given me a hundred most obliging testimonies of her unalterable constancy? She hath seen the King of Assyria, who was Possessor of a great Empire, and could command an Army of two hundred thousand Men, lie prostrate at her feet, and never be moved at his tears: Why then should I now ever think, that since he is deprived of his Kingdom, and in fetters, and never speaks to her, he can alter his mind? yet notwithstanding, pity hath much power in it; she can mollify the most obdurate hearts, and soften the most fierce Souls, especially such as suffer for her; also she delivered me, and retained the King of Assyria. Then afterwards when he began to consider how the Gods had promised Victory unto Croesus, and yet since he entered into Lydia he had nothing but good success against this Lydian King, he knew not what to think: Sometimes he feared the Gods did raise him only to throw him down again; and in a moment after, he thought that perhaps they did never intend it: So that when one glimpse of any hope did but shine upon his heart, than all his thoughts were of fight, and vanquishing his Rivals. After he had relished the sweetness of this last thought, he fell asleep, and slept on with more tranquillity then usually he was wont, but his sleep was not long since he awaked by break of day. He was no sooner up, but the King of Phrigia came to thank him, and express his joy, that the Prince his Son was not exposed unto the fury of Croesus. Afterwards this Prince understanding from Aglatidas how infinitely Abradates loved the Queen his Wife, did advise Cyrus to carry her unto the Army, telling him, that such an occasion might present itself, that her presence and the presence of the Princess Araminta might happily much advantage him: At the first, Cyrus did not much hearken unto the counsel of the King of Phrigia, thinking that he was to employ nothing but his courage in the Releasement of Mandana; and remembering what small effects the last meeting of the Princess Araminta with the King of Pontus produced, he could not fancy any advantage by them. Yet since the King of Phrigia, Chrisantes, Aglatidas and Ligdamis, were not of his opinion, he yielded unto them. Then the very same hour he sent Aglatidas unto the two Princesses, with the Letters which he brought for them, and to beseech them they would be pleased to come unto one of those Towns which he had taken, and which was close by the place where he was encamped: But for more civilities sake, he writ unto them both; and the more to oblige Ligdamis, he desired him to go with Aglatidas, and conduct the Princesses, with whom was his dear Cleonice; giving orders unto Aglatidas for Arasp●s, that he should take his Troops unto Nisomolis. In the mean while Cyrus, whose constant custom was to conquer all opposers, resolved to enforce the Enemy, and to drive them from that quarter which they possessed, before all their Army came up; so that this being his full resolution, he intended to assault them in so many places at once, that they being forced to divide their Forces, he might more easily vanquish them: yet this could not be executed in the morning, because he thought it most expedient to fall on in the night, thereby to spare his Troops, and to avoid the arrows which they who guarded the Trenches might with more judgement aim if it were not in the dark. On the other side, the King of Pontus desiring to put nothing to the hazard, would not fight until the whole Army of Croesus was arrived; and desired that the Battle might be fought nearer Sardis, to the end that if Croesus was beaten, he might more readily retire into the Town to defend his Princess, so that he resolved to disencamp the night following; and in order to that, the day was no sooner done, but causing many fires to be made as usually was wont, he marched away with all his Troops towards the plain of Sardis. Cyrus was much surprised when going to assault his Enemy, he found none there: he made ready a great body of Horse to follow them; and himself being in the head of them, he pursued a long while, yet the Enemy made such haste, that he could not overtake them: so that conceiving it not safe to engage himself too far, he returned back, and possessed himself of the same quarter which the Lydians quitted: Yet was he extremely sorry to understand by the sick and wounded Enemies which the Enemy left behind in their Camp, that the King of Pontus was gone to quarter on the other side of the River Halis, which runs along the Plain of Sardis, over against Pactolus, which bounders the other side: And judging by this that the Enemy intended to protract the War, he fell into such sad despair as is unconceivable: so that without imparting his design unto any but him he sent, he dispatched Artabases unto the King of Pontus, to tell him, that since it was not just the Princess Mandana should continue so long a Captive, he conjured him to obtain permission from Croesus, for a Duel between them two, and so to end all differences betwixt them concerning the Princess Mandana, offering that if he were Conqueror, to restore the Queen of Susiana and the Princess Araminta upon condition he would restore the Princess Mandana unto Ciaxares if the Fate of Arms went on his side; adding further, that if Croesus would prolong the War, he might the better satisfy his desire. In the mean time, since Croesus and Abradates did advance, as the King of Pontus retired, both met at the River Halis: so that when Artabases came to the Enemy's Camp, he was carried immediately unto Croesus, in whose presence he must needs acquit himself of his Commission. At the first, the King of Pontus was much amazed; not but that this Prince was as valiant as any ever breathed; but when he remembered how he owed his life and liberty unto Cyrus, and that he unjustly retained the Princess Mandana from him, he was extremely ashamed; and all his love and valour could not move him to accept this Combat without extreme repugnance: But he was not put unto the trouble of it, for Artabases had no sooner ended his speech, but Croesus told him, that he would not suffer the King of Pontus to fight with Cyrus for the Liberty of Mandana; and bid him tell his Master, that before this Princess was released, he should conquer him in ranged Battle, he should take Sardis, subvert his Throne, and ruin his Empire.  
The King of Pontus, even ravished that he was not put to answer, and seeing with what resolution Croesus spoke unto this Proposition, beseeched him that he would permit him leave to see Cyrus; for Sir, said he unto him, though he be my Rival, yet I would preserve myself in his esteem and I should be extremely sorry if he should think it want of heart, that I will not fight with him; Also I should be very glad to ask him pardon for my ingratitude, and to tell him myself some part of my thoughts. At the first Croesus was unwilling to consent: but after Abradates told him that it could be no ways prejudicial, Artabases was sent back with one of the King of Lidia's Heralds to know whether Cyrus would consent unto this meeting. Since this Prince did expect Artabases with much impatience, because he hoped to obtain his demands, it may be easily conceived that his return did aggravate his sorrows, since the Liberty of Mandana was yet deferred: yet he did consent to see the King of Pontus, hoping still to persuade him either to restore Mandana, or to fight with him. The day of this Interview being appointed, it was resolved by both Parties that Cyrus should come in the head of a thousand Horse unto a place where ran a little deep River about three paces broad; and that the King of Pontus should meet him there with the like number; That these two Princes should solemnly engage themselves by Oath, not to assault each other, but to speak unto each other only. The thing being then resolved upon, the time and place appointed, and the hour come, each prepared to be at the place appointed: That which was most strange, was the great desire which every Commander of the Enemy's Army had to know Cyrus; so that they were all importunate with Croesus for permission to wait upon the King of Pontus: so that in lieu of common Troopers, all his Company to prevent discontents were Colonels and Captains.  
You easily imagine, that Cyrus when he saw this, suspected a surprise, and that faith would not be kept, for he had all his men (except some forty or fifty men of quality) out of common Troopers only: But with the King of Pontus it was otherwise, for Abradate; himself was one, having asked leave of Croessus to give Cyrus' thanks for his generosity in treating the Queen his Wife so civilly: However, Cyrus wished, though he knew no reason for his curiosity, that Telephanes who was so cried up, would be there also. These two bodies of Cavalry, appeared then at an equal distance from this River, and advanced footpace to the side of it, where they, when they were within eight paces of each side, they both made a halt. In the mean while, Cyrus and the King of Pontus, leaving their Troops both at a time, came as near each other as the River would permit, and without alighting from their horses, they saluted each other with equal civility, yet their eyes did so sparkle the agitation of their hearts, that they both stood silent a while, and could not speak; and indeed Cyrus could not look upon the King of Pontus, but he must needs remember the care he formerly had of his preservation, when he sent to acquaint him with the conspiracy against him, and also how he had saved the life of his Princess; yet he could not choose but remember at the same time, how he was the Ravisher of Mandana, and the ruiner of his felicity; nor could the King of Pontus look upon Cyrus without remembrance, how he owed both his life and liberty unto him, and how he had offered to reinvest him in his Throne; so that both of them infinitely esteeming each other, and so demeaned themselves, as the greatness of their souls did sufficiently appear. After all rumultuous cogitations of heart were allayed, and reason assumed Region in their minds: I am infinitely grieved (said the King of Pontus unto Cyrus) that Fortune has so much obliged me unto you, and that Love should make me so ungrateful: It is not for any ingratitude or obligations (replied Cyrus) that I accuse you, but only because you are extremely unjust, in detaining a Princess unto whom neither Nature, nor Fortune, nor Love, hath given you any right: As for that which relates unto my own particular, I was first obliged unto you, and all that which I have or would have done for you, aught to be considered only as effects of my acknowledgement: But that you should desire to obtain that by force, which ought to be acquired by submission, services and prayers, this is a thing most horrid; yet if the captivity of the Princess Mandana had any limits set unto it, than hopes of liberty in the end might sweeten her imprisonment: but to wish that she should not be released, until I have defeated a puissant Army commanded by three great Kings, and by the conquest of a great Empire, this is such a piece of high injustice, as I cannot believe you capable of; on the contrary, I think you ought rather to endeavour my defeat by your own peculiar valour, then by the blood of two hundred thousand men which are in the Army of Croessus; and therefore I hoped, that you would have accepted of that offer of combat which I sent unto you: How infinitely does it concern the King of Lydia, that we should terminate our differences ourselves before a bloody War become the Arbitrator? Since if I have the good Fortune to vanquish you, I shall demand no more but the Princess Mandana, and if you vanquish me, the Queen of Susiana and the Princess Araminta shall be restored. Oh ye Gods (added Cyrus) I beseech you infuse reason into the soul of this Prince, and let him help me to release that Princess whom we adore. Would it were the pleasure of those Gods, whom you invoke, (replied the King of Pontus) that I were able to follow the Dictates of Reason; for if I could, I should then resist my passion, and overcome it: I should then set the Princess Mandana at liberty, and then I should make my Love submit unto my ambition, and accept of all those generous offers which you have made me, and by consequence hope by your valour to regain my Kingdoms: Then though I could not conquer my passion, yet I should at least endeavour to overcome my unwillingness to fight with my Deliverer, and by fight with you, I might find an end of my misfortunes, either by a glorious Victory, or an honourable death. But to speak sincerely unto you, I cannot do it, since I am neither Master of my own person, nor of Mandana's: When I came first unto Croessus, after I had lost my Kingdoms, I brought him no Forces; all that I had, whereby to oblige him unto my protection, was to put the Princess Mandana into his power, so that since she is not mine, I have no right to demand her of him again: She is so precious an Hostage, that it may be said, that she almost keeps his Empire and person in security: Judge I beseech you after this what I am able to do, you have been my Deliverer, I confess, and such a one, as unto whom I owe all I have; nor can it be denied, but Croessus is my Protector also, and by the same reason, I am as much his debtor. Never consider, (said Cyrus) what your debt is unto the King of Lydia, or unto me, but consider what your debt is unto the Princess Mandana: Is it just, that since the Gods have destined her to wear the prime Crowns of all Asia, you should make her die in Prison? Can your Love consent unto that? And do you think, that to Love Mandana truly, is to make her the most miserable Princess alive? Recollect yourself generous Rival, hear what reason says unto you, and strive either to overcome yourself, or me, I give you the choice of these two; if you make choice of the first, and will move Croessus unto a peace, to show you that I desire it not to save myself the labour of a War, I do solemnly engage my word to establish you in the Throne of your Fathers, and to do as much for Croessus if he have any need of my assistance; but if you make choice of the other, then persuade him that it would be very much more advantageous unto him to vanquish or entrap me, then to hazard it in a Battle; for truly, I cannot endure Mandana should be thus a Captive, and I wonder how you can suffer it: I do not know (replied the King of Pontus) but there is such a discord in my own thoughts, that every day I do both love and hate you, and am my own greatest Enemy; yet there is not one minute in my life, in which I do not most desperately love the Princess Mandana; I cannot fix upon any reasonable resolution, but am always both unjust and miserable: No, no, (cried out Cyrus) it is not so; for since you see Mandana every day, either angry, or with tears in her eyes, your heart must needs melt, or despair, whereas I never see her; therefore in all likelihood I am more unfortunate (and not you) then ever I imagined. However, I beseech you be so sincerely as to tell me, upon what terms you stand with Mandana? I beseech you do not deny me every thing; and since you will neither release your Mistress, nor fight with your Rival, however speak free and sincerely unto a Prince who would be your friend, if you would permit him: Alas Sir, (cried out the King of Pontus) your rigour is too sharp, in desiring me to tell you with my own mouth, that you are as much in the Princess Mandana's esteem as I am little; and content yourself with this, that though I cannot part with her, yet have I no hopes of ever being loved: What then do you hope for (said Cyrus unto him?) To die, replied the King of Pontus, before you shall enjoy her. There is not a better way to hinder me from enjoying her, (replied Cyrus) then to fight with me: Sometimes I think upon nothing but that, replied the King of Pontus, when I look upon you as my Rival, and my Rival beloved; and sometimes when I look upon my obligations, I cannot think of any such thing: Forget them all for ever, replied Cyrus, since you will not render me the Princess whom I adore: However do thus much for me at the least, said he, that you will induce Croessus not to draw the War out at length, but that a deciding Battle may speedily be resolved upon, and let Victory fall where it please the Fates. This I will promise you (replied the King of Pontus) though I am angry with myself, that I can grant no more, unto one that is not only my Deliverer, but also a protector of the Princess Araminta: Do not make the respects which I pay unto that illustrious person any obligations unto you (replied Cyrus) since I pay them only in love of her and myself, and not of you.  
After this, these two Princes talked together of many things, with sometimes generosity, and sometimes in anger, but Love did always appear in them both: When they were ready to part, Abradates advanced, and the King of Pontus naming him unto Cyrus, that Prince saluted him with much respect, as made appear how he treated Panthea. This first compliment being over, and Abradates rendered him thanks for his so generous and civil treatments of the Queen his Wife, Cyrus began to speak, and looking upon the King of Pontus, Have you no pity upon the King of Susiana? (said he unto him) and will you not put me into such a condition as will make me restore him the only person which can make him happy? Oh I beseech you, let me enjoy so much happiness, as that I may break the Chains of these two great Princesses in pieces, by your breaking the Chains of the Princess Mandana. As much interested as I am, because I know too well what it is to be deprived of her I most love (replied Abradates) yet I cannot join my prayers unto yours Sir; and therefore without any insulting upon the miseries of a great Prince, I endure my own misfortunes, without any addition unto his; yet thinking myself most happy, in meeting with so generous an Enemy as you Sir are. As Abradates was speaking thus, and the name of Telephanes coming into the mind of Cyrus, he began to look amongst the Lydian Cavalry if he could spy the Buckler, which they said he used to wear; for though there was no design of any fight that day, yet every one had their Arms. Cyrus then looking very circumspectly amongst them, whilst Abradates was speaking unto him, he saw a man of an excellent garb, and well mounted, in the first rank, who turning his head then to speak unto another which was in the second Rank; would not at first permit him to see his face, yet his Buckler was plainly to be seen; so that he longing to have him look towards him, he harkened unto Abradates, but still kept his eye upon Telephanes, and though he knew no cause for it, yet his soul swelled with extraordinary agitations, and much more when this pretended Telephanes turning his head that way, he saw him to be either the Prince Mazares, or his Ghost; for since he had often seen this Prince at Babylon before, he saw him in a dying posture near Sinope; and since the Idea of a Rival is always rivitted in one's memory, he knew him at first sight; yet since he certainly believed him dead, this sight did so surprise him, that he could not choose but interrupt Abradates. I beseech you (said he, and pointed towards him) how long hath that Cavalier been amongst you? and why doth he name himself Telephanes? The King of Pontus being very desirous to know more of a man who had done so many gallant feats since he came into Lydia, answered, that he came to Sardis a little before the Princess Mandana; but as for his name, he knew no more of it then what himself told us: No, no, said Cyrus, Telephanes (if my eyes be not much mistaken) is not his name, but it is Mazares, one of the Ravishers of my Princess, whom the Gods have raised from the dead to torment me the more. Mazares hearing himself named by Cyrus (for it was really he) came nearer the river, and looking mith a more melancholy than furious aspect: Since you have discovered my right name, said he unto him, I will not any longer conceal it: I do confess, that I am Mazares, the most culpable and miserable man alive: But Sir, since I am not revived, but only to die a second death, do not repent that you left me alive: I left you alive (replied Cyrus in such a tone, as manifestly spoke the turbulence in his heart) because I could not then take it from you with honour: But now, since I see you in a condition able to answer him that shall call you to an account, I am resolved not to do it as I did before: We shall meet perhaps (replied Mazares coldly) before this War be ended, or else I would look for you all over the world (replied Cyrus;) and did I not know the rights of men to be inviolable, we would this very hour end all our differences. Abradates' fearing that Mazares would reply something that might make Cyrus not a Master of his own resentment, broke off this discourse, telling them both, that it was not permitted them to speak unto each other at this time, since Cyrus obtained leave from Croessus, only for the King of Pontus himself and to parl, yet did Mazares answer in such a manner, as made both his courage and prudence to appear. In the mean time, the King of Pontus, who loved him very well as Telephanes, yet now did not know how he should look upon him; yet considering, that if Mazares had not carried away Mandana, she had not now been in Lydia, than he had thoughts of him different from those of Cyrus: And on the other side considering, that but for him, Mandana had been now either in the King of Assyri's power, or in the power of Cyrus, he could not have any such resentments of hatred against him, as usually is against a Rival; yet was he so busied in himself, what to think of Mazares, and how to behave himself towards him, that he meddled not with their discourse, which by the prudence of Abradates ended, every one retiring to his own party with different apprehensions. Cyrus yet was the last that retreated, so unwilling was he to part from two men, whom he had such a desire to be fight with, even both at once, rather than not at all; he was very sorry, that he did not a little better inform himself, how it should possible be that Mazares should still live, and why he should take the King of Pontus his part, who was his Rival, and why he should conceal his name: However, return to the Camp he must, but he returned with such furious resentments of Spirit, that he was never seen so little Master of himself as at that time. When he came to the Camp, and had given all necessary orders, he had a longing impatience to be alone with Chrisantes, that he might with freedom descant upon this odd accident. Well my dear witness of all my misfortunes (said he unto him) what do you say unto what you have seen? (for Chrisantes was with him at this interview) I say Sir, (replied he) that since Fortune has been so forward in forging so many prodigies to torment you, she will at last work as many miracles to ease you: For my part, (replied Cyrus) I am not of your opinion, but on the contrary, methinks I have cause to fear, since this accident, that Astyages as well as Mazares may revive to torment me; and that so many millions of men as have lost their lives in the Armies of my Enemies in so many Battles as I have won, will also revive to recruit the Army of Croessus unto an incredible multitude, and that all those whom I have so often vanquished, will at last become my Conquerors: For truly, why should I not think all these as possible as this I see? Did I not see Mazares dying in the Fisher's Cabin? Or to say better, Did I not with these eyes see him dead? Did not these ears hear him pronounce with a feeble and weak tone those sad words concerning my Princess, when he gave me her Scarf, which remained in his hands after the shipwreck with her? Then did he lose his tongue, and could not speak one word more, when I left him, and they assured me most confidently the next morning that he was 〈…〉 d; yet for all this, Mazares I see is living; Mazares is in the same place where Mandana is, and fights for one of his Rivals: Was ever such a prodigious passage known? Did the King of Assyria whom he betrayed know he is in Sardis, perhaps he would find out ways to know how all this came about, and hereafter acquaint me; but alas, certainly the Gods are resolved to overwhelm me with all manner of misfortunes; and have I not good reason to think so? The Oracle assures the King of Assyria, that he may hope for the enjoyment of Mandana: The Oracle does affirmatively promise Croesus' the Ruin of that Empire, which in all likelihood I should hereafter possess; and the Sibyls answer pronounceth my death; yet did they conceal one part of my misfortunes, since they tell me that Mazares was alive.  
But Sir (said Chrisantes unto him) it is not Mazares who now keeps Mandana Prisoner, nor is it the King of Pontus, but it is Croesus. 'Tis true Chrisantes (replied Cyrus) but they were my Rivals who put her into his Power: The King of Assyria began my misfortunes in carrying her away from Themissira: Mazares increased them in carrying her away from Sinope, and first from Babylon, both which I was ready to take and become Master of: But the King of Pontus exceeded them both, in saving her from shipwreck only to cast her into a Sea of miseries: 'Tis very true, that without laying the fault upon others, I ought to accuse myself the first: for indeed if Artamenes had known Philidaspes when he met him in the Wood and saved his life, Mandana had been at liberty, the King of Pontus had been upon his Throne, Mazares had been innocent, and I had been the most happy man upon Earth. However, since things past cannot be revoked, I must think upon the present and future; and endeavour my own satisfaction so far as to sacrifice some of my Rivals unto my Fury and Revenge, before all these menaced miseries do fall upon me: Yet this Prince could not execute his design so soon, because his Enemies were on the other side of the River, and he could not easily come at them: Also, having caused some Chariots of War to be made which were not finished, he was forced to stay a while before he could attempt any thing considerable: yet there happened every day such Encounters between Parties, as did sharpen the violent desires of both sides to vanquish: For since Croesus kept one Pass over the River Halis, and Cyrus another, both sides were continually sending out Parties.  
In the mean while Aglatidas and Ligdamis did punctually observe the Orders of Cyrus, and waited upon the Queen of Susiana and the Princess Araminta unto the Town which that Prince desired they should stay in, until the Battle was fought, which as he hoped would be very shortly: They were no sooner there, but Panthea sent Ligdamis to entreat Cyrus that she might have so much liberty as to come and speak with him, about a business which did much concern him: Cyrus then asked Ligdamis if he knew what it was? and he answered, No, but said, he found Panthea so sad and altered, that he was persuaded she grieved exceedingly: Cyrus, who had a natural disposition to compassionate all in any misery, without any longer delay, or putting her into the trouble of coming to him, he went unto the place where she was, which was not above thirty furlongs from his Quarter. When he was come into the Castle where she lodged, he asked Araspes very privately whom he perceived very melancholy, how the Queen of Susiana did since he saw her, and whether he knew of any new misfortune or distaste which had befallen her of late? Araspes blushed at the question, and answered Cyrus in such a manner as made him think that he had promised fidelity unto Panthea, and would not confess all he knew: so that commending his discretion in lieu of ●●ding him, he went into the Queen of Susiana's Chamber. Araspes would have entered also as he used to do when Cyrus came, but he forbade him: When he was entered, he saw Panthea, and none but Cleonice with her; but saw her so sad, that he was surprised: Sir, said she unto him, I ask your pardon, for putting you to so much trouble. 'Tis my part rather to beg a pardon Madam (replied he) for making you so melancholy, though I do not know the cause of it: And truly Madam, I think myself responsable for all the miseries which chance unto you, as long as I continue so unfortunate, as not to release you. Sir, answered she, I should be very unjust if I should charge you with the faults of another; and I have so much respect unto you, as not to aggravate the crime of one whom you honour with your affection: Therefore without telling you against whom I complain, I shall only entreat you— No, no Madam (said Cyrus, and hastily interrupted her) you must not conceal either the Crime nor the Criminal, whosoever he be; and I do protest unto you, that if there be any who hath offered you the least cause of complaint, I will punish him so severely, as you shall see I am as sensible of any injuries offered unto those I honour, as if they were done unto myself. I ever did believe Sir, replied Panthea that your generosity would prompt to as much; and therefore, though it be not the custom for Captives to choose their Keepers, yet I most humbly beseech you to forbid Araspes from seeing me again, and to put some other whom you shall please in his place. You shall be most exactly obeyed Madam, replied Cyrus; but if Araspes hath been so bold as to offer you any displeasure, he deserves not only to be banished out of your presence, but out of the society of men as a most barbarous and wicked man; therefore I beseech you, to tell me a little more precisely what the crime is which he hath committed. It is enough I tell you Sir (said she and blushed) that Araspes is fitter to be in the head of an Army then to guard one of my quality and virtue: After this Sir, ask me no more for this is as much as my modesty will permit me to tell you: It is enough Madam (replied Cyrus,) and without putting you to the trouble of relating what his crime is (which cannot be little since committed against you) I shall make himself confess it, and proportion his punishment accordingly: In the mean time Madam, to testify that it is not my intention to expose you unto any dislike of those which are about you, be pleased to choose whom you will to serve you, but not to guard you; for I desire no other security from you then your Princely word, and I give you absolute authority to displace any which you dislike to have about you. Ah Sir, said she, your generosity extends itself very far. No, no, Madam, replied he, I will do any thing to serve you, and therefore I beseech you accept of my humble offer; and since my impatience to punish him that hath offended you doth earnestly invite me, I beseech you give me leave to depart sooner than I intended. Panthea ravished at the magnanimity of Cyrus, rendered him a thousand thanks for his goodness to her, and asked him pardon for causing any new displeasure in him: But Sir, said she, since it is one of those Crimes which Virtue will not permit me to relate, I hope you will excuse me. Cyrus' answered unto this with unequaled generosity, and then retired: but meeting with Doralisa and Pherenice in the outer Chamber, he stayed a while with them, to know more exactly what was the Crime of Araspes, knowing that she was pleased to impart her secrets unto them; and taking them aside, I beseech you tell me (said he to them) what Araspes hath done, which hath given the Queen some cause of complaint after so many commendations of him? for I would gladly know wherein he hath failed before I punish him. Sir, answered Doralisa and smiled, you may remember how I told you one day that Araspes was not so insensible as you thought him; and that Perinthus seemed once as obdurate as he. I remember it very well, replied Cyrus, but is it possible that Araspes should presume to look so high as the Princess Panthea, and so insolent as to express any signs of his passion. It is most certain, replied Pherenice, that he hath been so bold as to love her, and so unfortunate as to let her perceive it. This Sir, is the Crime of Araspes, which questionless is great enough to move you unto so much satisfaction, as to remove him from the Queen: Yet it is certain that of late he hath lost his Reason, but it was apparent he did not show his passion with any design that she should know it: A Virtue less scrupulous than hers might have dissembled it, but the Queen was so incensed against him, that she cannot endure his presence. She shall never be troubled with it, replied Cyrus, and I shall so fully satisfy her, that she shall have as much cause to commend me, as to complain against Araspes. After this, Cyrus went out, and made a short visit of the Princess Araminta, whilst Araspes was sought for, but could not be found in any place of the Castle: for when he heard that heard Panthea had sent unto Cyrus, he thought she would complain against him, knowing better the crime he had committed then either Doralisa or Pherenice, because Panthea out of her modesty and greatness of Soul, did partly hide it from them. Araspes then was in a terrible perplexity; but considering with himself that he could not long avoid the sight of Cyrus, he resolved to go and confess his fault, and submit himself unto his goodness: Then did he present himself before him, but with such a bashful countenance, that he was scarce knowable: Cyrus was then in a Gallery at the end of Araminta's Chamber, from whence he came: As soon as he saw Araspes, he made a sign as if he would be in private with him, so that every one did withdraw, and left him the liberty to speak his mind.  
Since Cyrus loved Araspes, and was well inclined to excuse all errors of Love, and since both Doralisa and Pherenice did not much aggravate his fault, he did not at first break into any anger; so that Araspes not doubting but Cyrus did exactly know his crime, grew something more confident, and resolved to confess ingenuously all that he should ask him: Is it not enough Araspes, said he unto him, that I should be persecuted by my Enemies, but my friends must also lay their loads upon me? And must you whom I ever loved, contribute your Faggot to the fire of my anger? Might you not well apprehend by those respects which I rendered unto the Queen of Susiana, what your duty was, which I would have you render her? I took you for a wise and stayed man, and yet you were so considerate, as to express signs of Love unto so great a Queen, who is more illustrious by her virtues, than her high quality: 'Tis true Sir, replied Araspes, I must confess myself culpable, if it be a crime to do that which is not possible for me but to do: However (said Cyrus unto him) tell me ingenuously how it is, and why you did not accord her presence as soon as you perceived yourself first in Love with her? You may remember, that once when I observed you very sad, and thinking that employment was ●rksome unto you, I offered you another: Why then did you not accept of it, if you perceived in yourself any inclination to such an unsuitable and unreasonable passion? 'Tis true Sir, replied he, I ought to have done so; but it is as true also, that this imperious passion would never permit me so much power over myself, as to be far from Panthea; and my hopes were, that I should only love her, and she never perceive it: Why would you carry it so? replied Cyrus, for as long as she had been ignorant of it, I should never have known it; or if I had perceived it, I should have pittled in lieu of accusing you: Ah Sir, (cried Araspes) it was chance that made my crime, for truly I did repent of my intention to discover my passion, and the Letter which she saw was much against my will.  
Cyrus then conjecturing that there was something which the Queen of Susiana had not told him, and which Doralisa and Pherenice did not know, or else seemed ignorant, he urged him to relate all the passage betwixt her and him: Then he told him, that he loved her ever since he first saw her; that he resisted his passion as much as he could, and not being able to overcome it, he concealed it with great diligence; but of late, he could not possibly choose, but much against his will discovered it, by a hundred unthought of passages which escaped him; that he had an intention either to speak or to write something unto Panthea, but of the two, he rather fixed upon writing. How Araspes? (said Cyrus) Did you write a Letter of Love unto Panthea? Yes Sir, (replied he) but afterwards I repented, and intended she should never see it, yet notwithstanding I kept it, not knowing any reason why, and carried it in my pocket, reading it very often, and found some comfort in reading that unto myself, which I durst not speak unto Panthea. A while after, this fair Queen having a great desire to have a sight of the Oracle which Croessus received from Delphos, and which she knew I had, she sent a servant one evening when she was retired unto me for it, I being all zeal to obey her, unhappily mistake papers, and sent that Letter, which I repented of, and resolved she should never see: He unto whom I gave this Letter, was no sooner gone, but I found my error; it vexed me to the soul, I sent my servants to call him back, but presently a rapture of Love seduced my reason, and I recalled them; then commanding and countermanding them four or five times, my last order was to call him back in good earnest, but it was too late, for he was entered into the Queen's Chamber. It is impossible for me to relate unto you Sir how I passed away that night, but I assure you it was with the most restless agitations of mind that ever any had. Has she the Letter yet? replied Cyrus: Although she have, replied Araspes, I can easily relate it, for I think I have read it a thousand times, and it was in these terms.  
The unfortunate ARASPES unto the fairest Queen in the world.  
THis is not to beg a pardon for my presumption in loving you, nor is it to ask you any recompense, that I let you understand how Love has made me more your captive, than the war hath made you; but it is, because I think it just you should not be ignorant, that in your captivity you have an absolute Sovereignty over my heart: If I do not ask a pardon for my rassinesse, it is either because I am sincere, then because I am presumptuous, since certainly I cannot repent of loving you: and if I do not ask any recompense, it is because I know very well, that I rather deserve punishment: Thus Madam, pretending unto nothing but to die in your Fetters, be so good I beseech you, as not to ruin me, in making them so intolerable, that I cannot wear them. This Madam I have had a longing desire to tell you, and maugre the violence of my passion, I should think my sufficiently favoured, if you could without hatred only believe, that I love you more than ever any did.  
ARASPES.  
This Letter (replied Cyrus after he had repeated it) had been reasonable, if it had been addressed unto Doralisa or Pherenice: But to speak thus unto a Queen, and a Queen in misery, is a boldness so unexcusable, that I cannot express how infinitely you have disobliged me: I was most cruelly punished for it the next morning, replied Araspes; for when I came unto her Chamber, according to my usual custom to wait upon her unto the Temple, she told me I should not go that day: But the most cruel torment of all to me, was, when she sent for me in the evening, and causing me to come into her Closet: Araspes (said she unto me, with such a Majesty as made my heart tremble) Since it concerns my honour not to publish how you have failed in that respect which you ought to have unto me, I will not let my resentments against you appear, until I meet the illustrious Cyrus in such a place where I may entreat him to remove you further from me. In the mean time, since I cannot endure the sight of you after your extreme boldness, I pray come no more into my Chamber, unless you have a mind to exasperate my resolutions of hatred. Then I had a mind to protest unto her, that I was infinitely sorry for what I had done, that I repented of ever writing the Letter, and that it came into her hands contrary to my intention, but she would not hear me, and expressed so much anger in her aspect, and such an odious aversion to me, that I retired with an unconceivable sorrow in my soul; Since this Sir, I never had my reason clear, and this Sir is my crime, do unto me as you please; and yet methinks, a Prince who is so well acquainted with the power of Love, should be something indulgent towards a man, whose crime is only being in Love; and so I am very much (replied Cyrus) for I pity you infinitely, and I would do any thing to revoke what's passed if it were possible, and that you had not offended Panthea: But for all that Araspes, satisfaction must be given, it concerns my honour as well as hers, therefore, though I esteem you never so much, I must banish you, not only from her, but myself also. Alas Sir, replied Araspes, Is not the separation from her I adore punishment enough, but I must be deprived of the honour to die for you in the head of your Army? Consider Sir, that Panthea will be better revenged in my death, then in my Exile: So shall not I, replied Cyrus, for I rather wish your Exile, than your death. But Araspes, resist me no more, retire yourself, and say nothing, but go either into Medea or Cap●adocia, or any other place you like best, until the Queen of Susiana be out of my hands: Araspes would have replied, but Cyrus seemed angry at his refusal, and spoke in such a tone, as intimated he would be obeyed; and so Araspes departed the same hour, though Cyrus was very loath to want a man whom he loved so well: He sent then unto Panthea, to tell her that he had banished Araspes; and that if she approved of it, Artabases should wait upon her in his room. Panthea was ravished at the generosity of Cyrus, and sent him thanks; and not content with that, she dispatched one of her servants. (which came from Susa with her, and whom she esteemed very much) unto her dear Abradates, giving him a Letter to deliver unto him, which intimated her great obligations unto Cyrus: As for Araspes, before his departure, he writ a Letter unto Cyrus, and sent it by a Soldier, but this Prince did not then, show it, and it was a long while after before any knew he had writ unto him: The disgrace of Araspes made a great noise in the Army, the cause also was quickly known, and there was none which did not commend Cyrus, and pity Araspes. In the mean time, this illustrious Conqueror, being persuaded that those who seek their Enemies, have the advantage of them who wait for them, though inferior in number, he quitted the Quarter where he was, and took up another so near the Army of Croessus, that if the River Halis had not separated them, doubtless he had forced that Prince to a Battle. There was not a day passed, but Cyrus knew by his Spies what his Enemies did; but that which perplexed him worst was, that he did not perfectly understand what they intended to do: He knew, that by reason of the great number of Egyptians which were in his Army, they must change the order which they were used to observe in drawing their Troops into Battalia: so that he had an extreme desire to know precisely what form they would use, but he conceived it a thing impossible: yet he sent out every day fresh Spies, and took new Prisoners; he understood by them, that Croessus found himself not well, and returned to Sardis, which was not far off, and that the King of Pontus went every day thither: Since Cyrus thought it a more glorious sight to see Mandana then himself victorions, he resolved rather to lose many men in forcing a passage over the River Halis, then to linger away any longer time: Yet notwithstanding, the King of Phrigia, the King of Hyrcania, Gobrias, Gadates, the Prince Tigranes, and Phraartes, persuading him that it was better to wait a few days for a Victory, then to hazard it, he resolved upon a course of patience: yet he was every day on horseback; sometimes to stop victuals from going to the Enemies; sometimes to face them; sometimes to skirmish in Parties: But what ere he did, or where ere he was, Mandana or his Rivals were always in his thoughts, especially Mazares, whose Adventure seemed most prodigiously strange unto him.  
Some days being thus spent, he had intelligence that Croessus was well again, and was resolved to give Battle: Cyrus then burning with impatient fury to shorten this War, and to be at handy blows with his Enemies, resolved to send a Herald unto Croessus to tell him. That if he would, he would retreat from the River as far as was necessary to give him room and time enough to pass over his Army, and to draw them up into Battalia, upon this condition, he would resolve not to decline fight, as hitherto he had done. This Project was no sooner resolved upon, but Cyrus did put it in execution: and Croesus no sooner heard this Proposition, but he accepted of it; and sent back the Herald which Cyrus sent, with a promise that within four days he would look the Prince his Master in the face, and exchange some blows with him according to his desire: After this, Cyrus assumed fresh vigour, and hoped for Victory, in spite of all the angry Oracles: This hope also was infused into the hearts of all his Soldiers; who at this time did resemble the Sailors which followed a famous Pilot, who never were astonished at the fury of any surging Waves, but when they saw him astonished: So likewise the Troops of Cyrus did never consult with any thing but the face of their General to prognosticate the Victory: so that they always finding there a serene tranquillity amidst the greatest dangers; they fought like Soldiers who thought their General could commit no fault, or ever be vanquished: but whilst this Prince prepared himself for fight, many things fell out which did for a while keep back that glory which he expected, and which did extremely puzzle Croessus. When this Prince returned answer by the Herald which Cyrus sent unto him, he was at Sardis; and the King of Pontus and Abradates were at the Camp: so that these two Princes hearing of this Answer, thought strange, that Croessus should so peremptorily determine upon the day of Battle without ever acquainting them: Since it was they principally who were responsible for the good or bad success of this great Enterprise. The Prince Myrsiles being by reason of his imperfection incapable of any service but his person; and the Prince Mazares thought it was known who he was, yet he had no authority to do any thing but show his valour. These two Princes then being much incensed, did highly complain against Croessus, especially Abradates, who at the same time received a Letter from Panthea, which did so highly extol Cyrus, that it did dispose him more to complain against the King of Lydia: Also considering with himself, that it would be a greater difficulty to get Panthea out of the power of Croessus, after the Battle, what ere the success be, than before, he resolved to entreat Cyrus, that the Prince Artamas might be exchanged for Panthea: But for the more expediency of his Design, he did communicate his desires unto Andramites, whom he knew to be in love with Doralisa, who was with the Queen of Susiana: So that Andramites interesting himself in the Design, did promise Abradates to be present and urgent with Croessus when he should motion it unto him: As for the King of Pontus, he never opposed his Project: for since Abradates did not demand the Princess Mandana in exchange for Panthea, but only Prince Artamas, he durst not be seen, he approved of it: Abradates then went unto Croessus in the morning; and after he had acquainted him with his discontent, that he should fix upon the day of Battle without acquainting him, he desired him, that he would suffer the Prince Artamas to be exchanged for the Queen his Wife before the Battle was fought. If we get the Victory (replied Croessus) we shall release her more gloriously, then by any negotiation of exchange. You may get the Victory, replied he, and yet I not get Panthea, since certainly the weaker a Party is, the more carefully they keep their Prisoners: The truth is Sir, added he, since I do not fight to conquer Provinces, but chiefly to release Panthea, and next to oppose the overswelling Power of Cyrus, I know not why I should hazard the loss of that Lady for ever, who is so infinitely dear unto me, for want of a reasonable Proposition, therefore I beseech you take it not ill if I be very urgent with you to make this Proposition unto Cyrus. Negotiations of this nature, replied Croesus, are not to be made in so short a time as we have remaining before the Battle. I have such hopes in the generosity of Cyrus, answered Abradates, that I believe he will not deny a Truce for some days, if you will be pleased to ask it. I am not used unto any such compliance with my enemies (answered Croessus very sharply) and therefore I know not how to make any such motions, neither do I conceive your desires of an exchange just upon the very point of giving a Battle, to be very just, or much to any purpose, for you will bring a Princess into Sardis, and send one of the most valiant men upon earth into the Enemy's Camp to fight against us: No, no, Abradates; I cannot consent unto this: He who can fear one single man (answered the King of Susiana) and is in the head of 200000. men, can never trust the valour of his Soldiers: However it be (said Croessus very fiercely) since Artamas is a Delinquent against the State, as well as a prisoner of War, he shall not be exchanged for the Queen your Wife: Then you shall fight without me Sir (replied Abradates:) Sir (said Andramites, and addressed himself unto Croessus) I beseech you do not deny this request which is made unto you: I will always deny any thing that is unjust, answered Croessus, and therefore press me no more. Andramites used many other persuasive arguments, but all were to no purpose: Then Abradates went from Croessus exceedingly unsatisfied, and fully resolved not to fight, unless this Proposition was first made unto Cyrus: Andramites after Abradates was gone, did speak many things unto the King of Lydia which did much offend him. The King of Pontus fearing that this disorder would make a mutiny amongst the Soldiers, did do all he could to persuade Croessus to consent unto the King of Susiana's desires, and also used his best persuasions unto Abradates, that he would not impead the main business, though Croessus should not satisfy him, but all his arguments & persuasions would not work upon either of them. At the same time, the Father of Panthea came from Clasomena unto Sardis, where he had been levying some Forces; so that finding things in this State, he joined with Abradates and Andramites, and was more importunate with Croessus than they; and since he had a great considerable Province under his power, his solicitations did more perplex Croessus then any of the rest, out of his fears that his refusal might cause a Civil War in his own Dominions, at a time when he had his hands full of a very considerable Enemy upon him. The Prince Myrsiles also, none knowing his true reason for it, did Patronise Abradates as much as he was able, expressing his earnest wishes that the Queen of Susiana were released by Treaty; and he made it known unto all his creatures, that they could not any way more sensibly oblige him, then by their endeavours of persuading the King his Father unto it.  
Things than were in such a confusion, both at Sardis and in the Camp, that when Croessus would have given Battle at the day appointed, it was not in his power. However he would not consent to release the Prince Artamas; but seeing himself extremely importuned, he purposed the exchange of the King of Assyria for the Queen of Susiana: But Abradates replied, that he would never consent unto that Proposition, because it would more incense Cyrus, then induce him to the satisfaction of his desires, to have any Propositions of releasing his Rival and his Enemy made unto him. Moreover, the King of Pontus did much rather desire the Prince Artamas should be set at liberty, than the King of Assyria.  
Thus this contest growing so high, and fearing a revolt in an Army which was composed of so many several Nations, Croessus resolved to ask a Truce for some days, in order to a Treaty for the liberty of some Prisoners, not yet telling who they were, because he was not yet resolved upon them. Then he dispatched a messenger unto Cyrus, importing as much, who was much surprised at the demand, and certainly had denied it, if upon serious deliberation he had not found, that he could not force his Enemy to fight, but with the loss of many men. Cyrus therefore consented unto a Truce for eight days, upon condition, that such of his men as would go into Sardis, might go with as much security, as his Enemies might come into his Camp, and desired that this condition might be specified, for all the advantage which he hoped for by this Truce, was to hear how Mandana, his Rivals, and his friends did far: And also knowing of the division which was amongst these Princes, he hoped to make the gap wider.  
So that this Truce being resolved upon, it was published the next morning, both in Sardis, and in the Camp: So that after this, there was a pleasant mixture of friends and enemies in both Camps and Town, and so that one could not make any difference of sides: All the streets of Sardis, as well as the Camp of Croessus, was full of Persians, Medes, Arminians, Assyrians, and Hyrcanians; and the Camp of Cyrus was as full of Lydians, Myssians, Grecians, Thracians, and Egyptians. In the mean time, Cyrus sent Ortalgues into Sardis, to see if he could find out any possible means for him to have a sight of his dear Mandana. Ligdamis disguised himself to that intent also, having no desire to show himself publicly in that Town, because he was very well known, but he was informed by them both, that it was a thing impossible, and that since the Truce, the Princess Mandana did not walk upon the top of the Tower as she was wont; so that if he were at Sardis; he could see nothing but the Walls which shut her up: Yet had this Prince much ado to forbear, and I believe indeed he had gone, if some of his friends, who observed him not Master of his reason, had not dissuaded him, not that they feared Croessus would violate the Public Faith, but their fear was, lest if he should have met with Mazares or the King of Pontus, there might have been some jars between them, which might have caused a general disorder. In the mean time, Abradates sent unto Cyrus, to desire that he might see his Panthea, in the presence of whom he pleased, lest it should be suspected he spoke unto her concerning some affairs of War, or to know from her the affairs of the Camp, Cyrus, who experimentally knew, how sweet it was to see her one loved, and hoped that perhaps Abradates would retaliate the favour in letting him see Mandana, did very willingly consent unto his desire: So that giving all requisite orders for this meeting, which was to be the same day, Abradates was conducted unto Cyrus, who received him with extraordinary civility; after which, he himself conducted him unto the Town where Panthea was, and into her Chamber, where she alone, only with Doralisa and Pherenice: as soon as they entered, Madam (said Cyrus unto her) I hope you will pardon me for all the hardships which you have endured, during the absence of Abradates, since now I bring him unto you: But lest during your discourse, the sight of a Prince who was forced to keep you a Captive should molest you, I will leave you in freedom to discourse of all your misfortunes.  
Panthea was so overjoyed at the sight of her dear Abradates, that she did not half understand what Cyrus said; yet after she had saluted her illustrious Husband with as much reverence as affection, she entreated Cyrus to be a witness of their conference, yet notwithstanding he left them together, and went to visit the Princess Araminta, telling her how he left the King of Susiana with Panthea. As soon as ever this Princess heard this, she had an extreme desire to be acquainted with him, yet would she not by any means interrupt so sweet a conference so soon; so that she kept Cyrus' company, who to please her said, that she would one day be as much joyed to see Spitridates, as Panthea was to see the King of Susiana. Whilst they were thus entertaining each other, Panthea to publish the high generosity of Cyrus (after Abradates and she had expressed their affectionate souls to each other) called Cleonice, Doralisa, and Pherenice to witness her aggravations and obligements unto Cyrus, and grieved that it was the King her Husband's ill fortune to be engaged in so unjust a quarrel as that of Croessus, who was so ungrateful, as to deny him a Prisoner for her exchange. In conclusion, she expressed herself in such eloquent terms, as she moved Abradates earnestly to desire, that Croessus would disoblige him, and give him a just occasion of changing sides. Then did she again aggravate her obligations unto Cyrus in punishing Araspes. At the name of Araspes Abradates started, and told her, that he who she named was with Croessus, and well entertained, and that he much complained against Cyrus: If it be so, said Panthea, I have taken a valiant man from Cyrus, and given him unto Croessus: But however, I do conjure you, if you have an opportunity for it, to persuade the Prince my Father to incline Croessus unto a Peace, at least, that he would not engage himself in this War with him. Abradates' loved Panthea so extreme dearly, that he could deny her nothing, and told her, that if he could not procure the Prince Artamas to be exchanged for her, he would then quit Croessus, and whatsoever became of it, he would engage his word to be presently with her: As they were thus discoursing, Cyrus brought the Princess Araminta unto Panthea, that she might see Abradates, who returned her such civil thanks for the honour she did him, as she perceived he was a man of no less Generosity than Courage. The Conference of these four illustrious Persons did much augment the esteem each one had of another, principal between Cyrus and Abradates; for though they were never together before this day, yet there was no superstitious Ceremonies or Compliments of Vanity passed between them, but they spoke sincerely to each other, and with a civility so full of freedom, as it was apparent Fame had before made them acquainted.  
But whilst the Princess Araminta was congratulating the Joys of Panthea, Cyrus asked Abradates, whether he could obtain so much favour for him from Croesus, as that he might see Mandana during this Truce? I should not despair of doing you that service, if the King of Pontus and perhaps Mazares would not oppose it: However, I will pass you my word, that I will use all my arguments to persuade them that you may see her. If they be afraid that I shall speak any thing which may be prejudicial to them, said Cyrus, I will promise to stand silent all the while I look upon her: However, I beseech you, believe this of me, that if Mandana were not the cause of the War, you should not return alone to Sardis, for than I would freely give Liberty unto the Queen of Susiana: But since it is to do Mandana service that I came into Lydia, I hope you will not take it ill, if I take all advantages to do her service, and by consequence keep one that is so considerable as Panthea is: yet I do protest unto you, it is not without much sorrow that I should be any cause of your discontent. I shall not call to memory how you gave a Retreat unto the Ravisher of Mandana, and engaged yourself in the side of Croesus: for as it is not fitting I should blame so gallant an Enemy for it, so it is rather fit I should think it the Will of the Gods that I should obtain the Victory at a dear rate: for certainly, if you were but engaged on our side, that of Croesus would not long hold out: But however, though it be the will of Fate to dispose otherwise of you, yet I conjure you not to deny this favour which I ask of you, since it does not at all contradict your duty unto Croesus; I will promise it as far as in my power, and I am very sorry that I cannot assure you of good success in my endeavours. After this, these Princess and Princesses were above an hour in discourse of their past and present misfortunes; and afterwards they parted: Cyrus waiting upon Abradates as far as the further quarter of his Camp, did show him part of his Troop drawn up into Battalia: And it being a very gallant sight, Abradates told him, It was no wonder to see such good Soldiers under such a Commander: for truly (said he unto him) methinks your presence has infused such heroic sparks into me, that I make no question but I shall return more valiant unto Sardis, then when I first came to you. The case is not so with me, replied Cyrus, for as valiant as you are, you have infused an unwillingness in me to fight against you ever since I knew you. Abradates' answered his obliging language with as much civility and spirit: And afterwards both these mighty Princes parted extremely well satisfied with each other. Abradates' in pursuance of his promise beseeched the King of Lydia to let Cyrus see Mandana, as Cyrus had given him the liberty to see Panthea: Croesus at the first did make no difficulty of it, yet added such a condition unto it, as did render it impossible; for he consented unto the interview, provided the King of Pontus would approve of it: Abradates then went unto the King of Pontus to beg the favour; And what inconveniency (said he unto him) can it be unto you? You know he is in Mandana's favour as much already as he can desire to be, and therefore though this Princess should give him any obliging language, that makes him no more happy than he was before: But it may prove an advantage unto you; for if she tell him, how obsequious and respective you are unto her, it may chance take off the edge of his Animosity, and make him fight with less fury. If I did not think you speak this (replied the King of Pontus) purposely to do that Prince a courtesy who may do her you love another, I should say you are the most unjust man in the world to desire any such thing from me: for I pray know (since I must discover the bottom of my heart unto you) that I am arrived at that pass, as I will never endeavour again to enjoy Mandana: I have sighed and wept a thousand times at her feet, but all in vain: she hath thus far confessed unto me, that she believes I love her, and that if I were not her Lover she would not deny me her esteem: But for all that, she hath so resolutely and constantly told me, that she will never love me, and hath without telling me, let me perfectly understand, how she will love Cyrus for ever, that I am fully persuaded Mandana is for ever inexorable to me, and for ever faithful unto my Rival: therefore I will strive no more to win her heart or to enjoy her; but I will, if it be possible, look upon her eternally, and keep her out of sight of all my Rivals; and will see them all perish in a long War, or else perish myself, before I will part from Mandana, the Princess of my Soul. I know very well, that I am unjust in it, and that the act is contrary to reason and generosity, and that I deserve the blame of all the World: But on the other side, I know that it is not in my power to overcome myself: I must submit unto the sovereignty of Love and my evil destiny, and never think any more of any resistance: therefore I do conjure you, not to put me unto such a cruel necessity as to deny any thing unto that Prince who protects me in his Court: and consider, that I enjoy no other pleasure in my life, but only in that my Rivals are not blessed with the sight of my Princess: As for the King of Assyria and the Prince Mazares, since they cannot see but incense her, I do not much value them: But as for Cyrus, whose eyes do always attract affection and tenderness from her heart, I cannot endure he should have the least glimpse of her.  
Abradates' hearing these expressions from the King of Pontus, did think he should never obtain his desires: yet his obligations unto Cyrus moved him to be further importunate; I perceive (said he unto the King of Pontus) that there is some difficulty in obtaining my demands: But if you seriously consider, that I had not lost the only Object of my affections but for the love of you; and that Panthea had not been now a Captive but only because I received you into my Court; and that if you refuse me this request, Cyrus will revenge upon her the severity you use unto him, I conceive you may well think I have just cause to importune you unto a grant of my desires. Cyrus is so generous (replied the King of Pontus) that you never need fear any rigour upon Panthea. Why then do not you strive to be more generous than he (if it be possible) replied Abradates? It is sufficient that I endeavour to surpass him in Love (replied the King of Pontus) and not in Generosity, since I see it an absolute impossibility to strive against the stream of my Passion; I know very well, that since I am the cause of Panthea's Captivity, I ought to satisfy you in your request: But oh Heavens, how far am I from any capacity of doing what I ought? and therefore I beseech you pity me, and do not tax me with ingratitude if I deny you any thing, since it is not I, but the vigour of my insulting Passion. Abradates, seeing he could not persuade the King of Pontus, did leave him with a very cold Compliment, and took it very ill, that since himself had lost Panthea only for the love of him, he should deny him such a favour as would not take Mandana out of his Power. He writ then unto Cyrus, and excused himself, that he could not obtain his desires: but before he sent his Letter, he put Croesus in mind of his word, and beseeched him to propound unto Cyrus, an exchange of Prince Artamas for the Queen of Susiana. Croesus' answered him, that he would send Andramites to negotiate the matter, yet he said he would not release that Prince, but upon condition he should promise never to think any more upon the Princess his daughter: This Qualification seemed so strange unto Abradates, that he concluded Croesus would never have made that Proposition but purposely to break off the exchange: for what probability was there that Prince Artamas to recover his Liberty should engage himself to quit his affection unto a Princess whom he had long loved, and whom he was resolved to love as long as he lived, and from whom he had received some expressions of Love? Therefore beginning to speak very fiercely in the presence of the Prince Myrsiles and Andramites, who were both interested in the business; Sir (said he unto him) when you promised me to propound this exchange, it was to be according to the common Laws of War, and not according to politic shifts, to render the Proposition ineffectual: When you were to release the Prince Artamas, it should be as he was your Enemy, and not as a Lover of the Princess Palmis: Love had no share in this Negotiation, and I will never consent any such Proposition shall be made unto Cyrus. What doth it concern you who is released, or how released, so Panthea's Liberty be procured? (replied Croesus.) Doubtless it does not concern me, replied Abradates; but that which I most insist upon, is, that no such Proposition shall be made, as will only incense him unto whom it is made: Therefore knowing what a value Cyrus sets upon Prince Artamas, I thought him sooner than any other to be propounded in exchange. As for the King of Assyria, you may very well imagine, that Cyrus, as generous as he is, does not wish his Liberty so soon as the Prince Artamas: And as for any other of the Prisoners, they are not of fit Qualities to be exchanged against Panthea: Anaxaris is none knows who; Sosicles and Tegeus are your Subjects; and Feraulas is a servant unto Cyrus: And since so Sir, who should I propound in exchange for Panthea but the Prince Artamas? The Truce was concluded upon to that end, and yet it seems you will not release him, but stand upon consultation about it. I do consult upon it indeed, replied he, and that with good Reason; for except Cyrus himself, there is not a man in all his Army who would be so advantageous to have in my power as the Prince Artamas, and you would have me to release him for your interest only: However (said Abradates, with such an aspect, as made it appear he was much displeased at roessus) I pray tell me directly what you resolve upon, and why you consented unto the Truce, if it were not to satisfy my desires? I consented unto the Truce, replied he, to endeavour the release of Panthea, by releaseing the King of Assyria, or all the other Prisoners, or else the Prince Artamas upon such conditions as I told you.  
After this Abradates retired, and so did the Prince Myrsiles and Andramites, and they went unto their Quarters, and the Prince of Clasomena went also with Abradates, insomuch as Croessus fearing these three persons should make a mutiny in the Army, he resolved in the end to make the Proposition in exchange for the Prince Artamas, and sent in all haste to advertise Abradates of his intentions, who in the interim had dispatched his Letter unto Cyrus, to excuse himself in that he could not obtain his desires, and his expressions were so effectual, as Cyrus did really believe he had sincerely done his endeavour, and complained more against his own misfortune, then against any neglect in Abradates. In the mean time Croessus did send unto Cyrus; his desire was, that Andramites should be employed to go in that negotiation: He sent unto Abradates to move Andramites to go unto Sardis, but first he moved Abradates to go himself, yet he would not go, but stayed in the Camp, where he was much more terrible unto Croessus, then if he had been in Sardis, as well because he had a body of four thousand men, the best in all the Army, as because he was more considerable, and beloved of the Soldiers in general, than any other. Andramites then negotiated as a Lover of Doralisa, and by consequence as one much concerned in the liberty of Panthea, and therefore he omitted nothing that might render his transaction effectual; for he did not only address himself with much eloquence and prudence unto Cyrus, but he did choose his time so discreetly, as that the King of Phrygia was present when he propounded from his Master, the exchange of Prince Artamas for Panthea: So that though Cyrus had a good pretence to retain that Queen until Mandana were released, yet he would not insist upon it, lest he should disoblige so great a King as he of Phrygia, and lest in striving to be very prudent, he should fail in point of generosity. Moreover, he thought that the exchange of Panthea for Prince Artamas, would be very advantageous to him in the sequel of the War, since he was as wise and valiant a man as any was in the Universe, yet could he not resolve upon this exchange, unless he drew some satisfaction unto his Love by it; so that he told Andramites in the King of Phrygia's presence, that though it was very advantageous for him to keep the Queen of Susiana in his power unto the end of the War, yet he so much honoured the King of Phrygia, and loved the Prince Artamas so well; also respected Abradates and Panthea both so very much, that he would consent unto the desires of Croessus, upon this condition only, that during this Truce, it might be permitted him to see Mandana. Andramites hearing him say so, beseeched him not to insist upon that, because the King of Pontus had so resolutely denied that unto Abradates when he was moved in it, as it is thought impossible he should ever consent unto it: Since Croessus is Master in his own Dominions, replied Cyrus, he ought to be obeyed, and therefore I cannot conceive, that the consent of the King of Pontus is so absolutely necessary: Doubtless it is not, replied Andramites, but yet I have some reasons which induce me to think, that he will not make use of his Sovereign Authority in this business, but will rather break off the Truce: I consent unto it (said the King of Phrygia most generously) and had rather the Treaty were broke, than a Prince unto whom I am so much obliged should not receive this poor satisfaction: No, no, replied Cyrus, I cannot believe the King of Lydia is so weak a mannager of his Interests, but that he must think it more dangerous for him to disoblige Abradate● then the King of Pontus, since the one hath a Kingdom and Forces on Foot, and the other hath neither; therefore Andramites, I pray tell the King your Master what I say, and let me know his resolution. In the mean time, Andramites (added Cyrus, being very glad to perceive some sparks of his affection to kindle towards Doralisa, which might make him more zealous with Croessus) it shall be your own fault, if you carry no commendations from the illustrious Abradates unto his Wife the Queen of Susiana, for if you please, you shall be conducted unto her. Andramites hearing this acceptable offer, could not refuse it; so that he was conducted thither by Ligdamis, being ravished with joy that he should see Doralisa, who was with this Princess, and for whose freedom he did equally solicit: Andramites was welcomed by this Queen with much civility and satisfaction; for since she was ignorant how Croessus did only seek for a pretence to break off the Treaty, she made no doubt but ere long to see her dear Abradates. Doralisa, for her part, was not uncivil towards Andramites, yet he found to be as much as formerly she used to be, very fair, infinitely lovely, and a little too subtle; and indeed, in lieu of thanking him for the pains he took for the liberty of the Princess, which included hers, she told him with a smile, that she could not set any great value upon this Proposition which he brought, since if it take effect, we shall but go out of one Prison into another: For to tell you truly, (said she, whilst Panthea was writing unto Abradates) I think we are more safe in the Camp of Cyrus, then if we were at Sardis, since in all probability Cyrus will ere long take it, for he having both Justice and Fortune on his side, he will infallibly be victorious over all his Enemies. But what then will become of the Oracle which Croessus received from Delphos (replied he) if what you say should come to pass? Truly Andramites (said she unto him) it is much rashness to think that men should so well understand the language of the Gods, since sometimes men cannot so much as understand the language of men: I do confess it (said he unto her) that sometimes you would not understand the language of men, but to tell you truly, I think the reason was because you had not a will to understand it; nor do I know very well whether you will understand me now, if I should in plain language tell you, that I never did nor shall love any comparably as I do you. I understand you Andramites, replied she, much less than heretofore; for since I hear of late no language but Persian, Hyrcanian, Assyrian, Arminian, and Medean Tongues, I have forgot the Lydian language; and therefore before you speak unto me of any thing which concerns yourself, I must learn that Tongue, or at least be a year or two in Lydia. As Andramites was ready to reply, and beseech Doralisa to speak a little more seriously, Panthea having writ her Letter came to give it unto him, so that it being time to return, he could receive no other satisfaction from Doralisa, but that she was as fair as ever, yet did his flames of Love burn hotter than ever, and he returned unto Sardis, with resolutions to use his utmost endeavours to move the King of Lydia that Cyrus might see Mandana: And in order to that, he went unto the Camp before he went unto Sardis, and advised the Prince of Clasomena and Abradates not to stir, though Croessus should send for them, till the Treaty was accomplished, and to transact with the Prince Myrsiles, whom he knew was a wellwisher to this Treaty, yet did he not think this Prince had any other end in it, than the satisfaction of Abradates, and the releasement of Artamas, whom I always wished might marry his Sister the Princess. These two Princes then taking his counsel, let him go unto Sardis alone, whether he was no sooner come, but he gave Croessus an account of his voyage: But as soon as he had ended his relation, Croessus told him, that Cyrus demanded a thing which was not within the compass of his will to grant, for he had resolved never to contradict the King of Pontus in that business: Then it is impossible to conclude this Treaty (replied Andramites) for Cyrus is so fully resolved to obtain his demand, that the King of Phrygia himself, to satisfy his desires, would persuade him to insist upon it, though Cyrus should otherwise be contented: Though Treaty should break off, replied Croessus, it should not trouble me at all: Yet believe it Sir, replied Andramites, it is something dangerous to incense the King of Susiana, and the Prince of Clasomena.  
Croessus' apprehending this reply of Andramites (whom he knew to be their friend) for a kind of threatening, was much offended at him; and without any direct answer, only told him, that he would ere long let Cyrus know his mind. Andramites also being angry at this, the King of Pontus came in, and did so importunately press not to consent his Rival should ever see Mandana, that he confirmed him in his resolution, to make his colour for rendering the negotiation of Andramites ineffectual; yet the King of Pontus was very anger, that he thus disobliged Abradates, unto whom he was so much engaged; but this tyrannical passion did so disturb his reason, and usurped power over his soul, that he could not do any otherwise, nor was he Master of his own mind, In the mean while, Abradates, and the Prince of Clasomena, hearing of Croessus his denial, and the King of Pontus his opposition, spoke high, and like Princes that could not brook such usage, Andramites and the Prince Myrsiles did also cajole with the people in Sardis, and gave out, that Croessus refusing this desire of Cyrus would infinitely incense him against them, if he should become victorious; and therefore it were but just to seek for their own security; So that both in Town and Camp, things grew into great disorder; for as it is the easiest matter of a thousand, to make the herd of people do any thing; so upon this ground, divers that were very intimate friends unto Prince Artamas, whose virtues had purchased him thousands of secret servants who would venture life and all for him, began to speak very high, that Croessus never cared for the safety of his people, but would let all run to ruin, so he could satisfy his own private ambition? The memory of all the Victories which Artamas brought made all the Inhabitants of Sardis murmur extremely, and say one to another, that if he had never been a Prisoner they should never have cared for any foreign War: but to see an Army of above a hundred thousand men at their doors, and to have never an Artamas to defend them; this was such a misery as they could not endure without much murmur; and their thoughts were so forward, that they did both say and think, it would be more advantageous for them if the Prince Artamas were on the Party of Cyrus, then thus to be perpetually mewed up in a Prison: for they knew that he being in love with their Princess would never destroy Croesus, and that he was ever of a sweet mild disposition in all things; and they said openly, that the Injustice which was done him in his first Imprisonment, could be no way repaired but by releasing him from this second fetters: thus were Camp and Town all in division.  
Cyrus' knowing all this, was exceedingly joyed at it; for said he, If they do as I desire them, I shall see my Princess, and her looks will infuse fresh zeal into my Soul, and make me able to release, maugre all the fatal Predictions: If on the contrary they will not do as I would have them, than I shall have this satisfaction at the least, that their Soldiers will be divided, and so I shall get the Victory more easily: yet was he much astonished to hear that Mazares did not stir in the business; and every one who came from Sardis reported, that this Prince kept his Chamber by reason of some slight indisposition in his body: But he heard every moment that the disorder did increase both between Princess, and people, and Soldiers. In the mean time, since the Truce had a day prefixed, and Cyrus could not break his word, he was much vexed that he could not take any advantage by this disorder, and did with much impatience expect a positive answer from Croessus: yet sometimes he would go and visit Panthea; and as it is the custom even of the wisest men, especially those that are in love to discourse of all accidents which befall them, so Cyrus did speak unto Panthea and the Princess Araminta of nothing else but of this business now in transaction: Sometimes he would ask Panthea whether she thought her husband could brook this Injustice of Croessus? Other times he would desire the Princess Araminta to tell him, whether she thought the King her Brother would for ever obstinately persist in his resolutions of never suffering him to see Mandana? Yet he assured the Queen of Susiana, that though Croessus should deny him his desires, yet he would release her, beseeching her to pardon him if he deferred it until the last hour of the Treaty, in hopes thereby to obtain his desires; and he expressed himself in such obliging terms, that Panthea herself desired him to defer her Liberty as long as he could. As he was with these two Princesses, Ortalques came into tell him, that Orsanus was arrived at the Camp, and said he had some business of consequence to impart unto him: The name of Orsanus made Cyrus' blush, since when he heard it, he could not choose but think upon Mazares, and that he had sent him unto him, though he could not well comprehend how Orsanus, who went from Sin poe to return into his own Country, should be now in Lydia. This alteration in the face of Cyrus begetting a great curiosity in both those Princesses, they asked him the cause: yet he would not then tell them, not knowing what business Orsanus had with him: So that without giving them any direct Answer, he left them, and went unto him, wishing with all his heart that Mazares had sent by him to meet him with his sword in his hand. Since he was much beholding unto Orsanus, for the services he had done Mandana and Martesia he did not confound innocence and guilt together, but notwithstanding the agitation of his spirits, and his hatred of Mazare, he received Orsanus very kindly: After which, addressing his speech unto him; As I did at first receive you as a friend unto Martesia (said he unto him) I must hearken unto you as a messenger from my most mortal Enemy. Sir, replied Orsanus, before you know well what appellation to give my Master, I must beseech you to give me an hours patience, for if you did but understand the end of my Relation, perhaps it would strike you into wonder; and therefore it is requisite I prepare your spirits a little to hear of Miracles: Cyrus hearing Orsanus say so, began to devise with himself, what it should be he had to tell him; but being not able to imagine, he resolved to give him audience, and therefore carried him into a convenient place for that purpose. But since the Queen of Susiana and the Princess Araminta had heard that he who came to speak with him was from the Prince Mazares, they feared lest it should be some Challenge, and the King of Pontus and Abradates engaged in it: So that they sent unto him, beseeching him that they might speak a word with him. As impatient as this Prince was to hear Orsanus, yet he went unto the Princesses; who expressed so much tenderness over him, and were so troubled to hear that Orsanus came from Mazares; as they importunately forced him to offer them to be partakers of what Orsanus had to say, since he perceived by the manner of Orsanus his discourse there was no fight matter in it: So he sent for Orsanus, and told him he might speak with as much freedom before those two Princesses as if he were in private with him: After which, every one taking their places, Orsanus began his Discourse thus.  

The History of MAZARES.  
WEre I to speak of my Master only unto the illustrious Cyrus, my Relation should then be much shorter than now it must: And before I entertain two great Princesses unto whom he is unknown (though Persons of their Quality do commonly know, though they have not seen one another) I conceive it is expedient to recite in few words the beginning of his Life, to the end they may better know the Sequel.  
It is not at all requisite (said the Princess Araminta) that you should trouble yourself in telling us any Adventures which have chanced unto the Prince Mazares since the time he came from Babylon, until the time he was left for dead at Sinope in a Fisher's Cabin: for we know how he could not force himself to love the Princess Istrina, though the King of Assyria used all arguments to persuade him: and that he became in love with the Princess Mandana, whether he would or no, at the same time when she triumphantly entered that great Town: Nor are we ignorant how he demeaned himself when he was there: We know also how, prompted more by the dictates of his Love then either his Reason or Generosity, he invented to come out of that Town clothed in white when it was a Snow; and afterwards being in Sinope, how the same passion was predominate over his generosity, did prompt him to deceive her, and carry her away both from the King of Assyria and the illustrious Cyrus; and how to punish him for that rash act, the Gods permitted him to suffer shipwreck.  
Madam, replied Orsanus, when you shall know what I intent to relate, I know not then how you will interpret the intentions of the Gods, since at the same instant when they brought him to the very brink of Ruin, than they rather saved him: But before I explain this Riddle unto you, I must tell you that it was the greatest and most admirable effect of the Princess Mandana's Beauty, so to disturb and pervert the Reason of this Prince, as made him capable of doing any unjust act; since certainly there was never any of his Quality, whose birth, inclination and education was better: Moreover, the dispositions of Nature drawn from his Parents could not choose but be most excellently good; since it is most certain, that never Prince was more virtuous than the Prince of Saces, nor any Princess more heroic than the Queen Tarina, my Master's mother: But since her virtue was famous throughout all Asia, I will speak no more of it; only say this, that if the Prince Mazares her son be not as victorious as any, it is strange: But as an addition to all you know or possibly can know of him, it is requisite I tell you, that the night preceding the Princess Mandana's shipwreck, and whilst the Prince Mazares out of his respect durst not come into her Cabin, he was sensible of as much sorrow as a generous heart could possibly comprehend: and let me tell the illustrious Cyrus, that I am most confident, if he understood the sorrows which he apprehended after that sad accident, he would sooner pity then accuse him; he repented of his crime, though he could not of his passion, above a hundred times, and resolved as oft to expiate it; afterwards when he looked her in the face, and observed what alteration in her complexion so short a time had produced, his heart was so strucken with remorse, as he went in all haste to the Pilot, for fear he should alter his mind, and commanded him to take the way of Sinope, with intentions to restore the Princess either into the hands of Ciaxares or the illustrious Cyrus: But oh Heavens, how fatal was this Order, as just as it was, unto him that commanded it, and unto her for whose sake it was intended? For as soon as the Pilot received it, and in obedient order thereunto, intending to carry Mandana unto Sinope, he turned the Rudder, but overturned the Ship, and left us all in a perishing condition: Never since did I think it permitable to censure the intentions of the Gods, when they do either good or evil unto men: But that it is much safer to admire their Providence, then to dive too far into their Reasons: And indeed, to speak according unto mere natural Reason, who would not think that a Prince in love, who had her he loved in his power, and who had so much virtues as to repent the taking her away, and resolved to set her at liberty again, that such a one, I say, did rather deserve a Recompense then Punishment? and yet the Prince Mazares suffered shipwreck: he thought himself the cause of that Princess death whom he adored; and suffered more torture of Soul then ever any did; and the violence of his despair was much more like to be his ruin then his shipwreck; and doubtless it had been his death, had not the Gods most prodigiously sent him relief.  
Be pleased to know Madam, that the owner of the Cabin (where the illustrious Artamenes saw Mazares dying, and where he received from his hand a rich Scarf, which was the Princess Mandana's) being gone to fish a little before the storm did rise, and adventuring so far into the Sea that he could not recover the shore, he was constrained to let go his Boat unto the mercy of the Wind and Waves, was at last driven to the foot of a Rock which rise up in the Sea, and where a Ship had been split, but where his Boat being light did safely arrive, so that he got upon the Rock, and holding his Boat with a Rope, he resolved to rest there till the storm was over, and so he did, until the Tempest beginning to calm, he discovered an old man upon a plank which kept him above water, and who endeavoured to gain that Rock, but he was so weak, and so far off, that needs must he perish, unless the Fisherman relieve him. Plain pity then moving the heart of this Fisherman, he made unto his assistance in his Boat, and took up this man, whose name was Tyburtus, by Nation a Greek, who was always with Mazares as a Tutor to read all Sciences befitting his Quality unto him. He was no sooner in the Boat, but so weak he was, that ready he was to fall into a swoon: Yet when he was recovered, he told how he had been shipwracked, but told him not how it was in carrying away the Princess Mandana, lest it should abate his zeal to serve him: So that this Fisherman cheering him up after his homely manner, he offered him his Cabin to retreat unto, which Tiburtus accepted of, in hopes to hear some tidings of some that were shipwracked with him, or whether his Master perished among the rest: The Sea being then smother than before, this Fisherman began to row about; but since he had lost one of his oars in the Storm, he was a long time before he recovered his shore, and so long indeed, that he came not to his Cabin until Artamenes was gone away. You may imagine Madam, how Tiburtus was amazed to find the Prince Mazares there, and in that case, for he was not yet recovered out of his swoon wherein the illustrious 〈◊〉 left him: as soon as he see him, he was extremely joyed; but when he see him in that pitiful case, his extreme joys were converted into extreme sorrows: yet since he was a man of an universal knowledge in all things, and reasonably well versed in Physic, he endeavoured to try whether any life yet remained in that Prince, and whether there were any possibility of helping him: and upon his careful observance, he discovered his heart did beat: so that using all the helps which the poverty of that place would afford him, he employed them so well, that Mazares revived, but with a spirit so little of himself, that spying Tiburtus at his bed's side, he asked him where Mandana was? Afterwards he pronounced the name of Artamenes four or five times; and being for an hour after in a confused distraction of Reason, he known not whether or no Artamenes was his Rival, or whether Mandana was alive or dead, or indeed whether himself was living. But at last, Tiburtus endeavouring by his discourse to reduce his Reason into its right Region, he began by degrees to know things as really they were, and by consequence to fall into his first despair: Yet had he the comfort to see Tiburtus near him, whom he ever loved: In seeing him, his hopes revived also, that happily Mandana might escape as well as he, but his hopes of so much happiness were so weak, that they could not induce him to take any care of himself, or to receive any thing: In the mean while, Tiburtus considering how near he was unto Sinope, and in a place where the illustrious Artamenes had been, and might come or send again, he took the Master of the Cabin aside, and conjured him, that as he had saved his life, so he would do him another good office, without which the first was all to no purpose: But lest there should not be prevalency enough in his prayers, he charmed him with a great Medal of Gold hanging in a Chain of the same Metal, which the Queen Nit●cris gave him when he was waiting upon his Master at Babylon.  
The very sight of so rich a Present, so dazzled the eyes of the poor Fisher, that he did absolutely promise to do what ere he would have him, though it were with most desperate hazard of his life: So that Tiburtus without any loss of time caused him to take the Prince Mazares into his Boat, and to cloth him very well, lest the sharpness of the air might do him harm. The Prince Mazares at first was very unwilling unto what Tiburtus desired, saying he was loath to part from that place near which his Princess perished, and that he had rather die there then in any other place: But Tiburtus promising he should not be carried very far; and that it was to such a place as where it was more probable to hear of his Princess, and where he was in less danger of falling into the hands of Ciaxares, he began to submit unto his will: Yet not at the first; For Tiburtus (said he unto him) since death is that I look for, why may not the King of Medes or Artamenes give it me as well as any other way? Although it be all one to you (said Tiburtus to him) yet it concerns the King your Father, and the Queen your Mother, and all the people over whom you are destined to Reign; therefore I beseech you, follow my advice, and hearken unto Reason. Alas Tiburtus (said he) that man who cares not for life, cares not for a Kingdom: However, replied Tiburtus, though you do not care for either, yet grieve not them that are interested in you, and who would be much concerned if you should fall into the power of a Prince who would treat you as a Delinquent: And truly I am such a one, replied he, upon whom they would act no Injustice, though they proceeded never so rigorously against me: but Tiburtus, do what you will with me. After this Mazares was carried into the Boat; and all the people in the Cabin had orders to say, If Artamenes sent to inquire of him, that he died as soon as he left him. In the mean time, the lamentable condition in which the Prince Mazares was, would not permit Tiburtus to carry him far off, and all their provisions in the Boat were so small, as they would not last above two or three days. This wise old man being not of that Country, knew not what Course to steer; and since he was far off his own Country (for be pleased to know it is a great distance between Sinope and the Country of the Saces which borders upon the Asiatic Scythians) he could not tell where he should recruit himself any nearer: He had about him but small matters to subsist upon, the shipwreck having left him only that Chain of Gold which he gave the Fisherman, and one other Jewel of a very considerable value; yet the Prince Mazares by chance had some rich things about him, so that by them he hoped to find subsistence for a while, but the difficulty was where to land in a safe place: Not knowing then what to resolve upon, they put off from Sinope, unresolved what course to steer: Yet the Fisherman seeing Tiburtus in such a perplexity, told him, that if he would trust him, he would carry him into such a place where none should find them: Then acquainting him how he was not born at that place where he dwelled, but in a little Isle which was inhabited by none but Fishers, amongst whom he had many kindred, Tiburtus consented he should carry them thither: And this Fisherman promised my Master, to tell him in that place, whether any news was heard of the Princess Mandana, or whether they had found her body: So not being able to take any other Course, they came to this little Isle, which indeed was no more than a huge Rock, not above a days journey from Sinope: He who was their Guide, lodged them with a sister of his, whose husband was a Fisher like himself, and who entertained them very humanely: In the mean while, since it is the pleasure of the Gods to preserve Mazares whether he would or no, he lived when as he hated life, since he believed Mandana dead, but it was a life so lamentable, that death was much more sweet than it unto him: The little hopes he had of Mandana's escape, did now begin to die; for the Fisherman, according to his promise, wen● the day after to inquire, but could hear no news either of her or her Corpse: yet this last circumstance leaving some farfetched hopes in him, which induced him not to depart from that barbarous place; Tiburtus desired the Fisherman to tell him once more that the Corpse of Mandana was found: For as Tiburtus did verily conjecture, that this Princess was really dead, and that though she were living, yet it were good to wear her out of Mazares his memory; therefore he conceived it expedient not to leave any more such uncertain hopes in him, which might aggravate his sorrows, and much multiply his perplexities. The Fisherman at his request did tell this officious lie, and the Prince Mazares grieved so, as it was easy to see the difference between an undoubted misfortune, and one in which there was some incertainty: When the first raptures of his despair were passed, he told Tiburtus, that he would go and die over the Tomb of Mandana, and continued in this mind many days, but at last the persuasions of Tiburtus did alter his mind; but all his persuasions could not prevail when he moved him to return unto the King of Saces his Father: No, no, Tiburtus (would he say) you shall not have your mind in every thing, nor will I live as you would have me: It's well I satisfy you so far as not to kill myself, without publishing my crime and my misfortune unto all Asia: Live I will Tiburtus, because you would not have me die, but I will live only to lament that Princess whose life I destroyed: Oh unfortunate Prince (would he cry out) if thou hadst any design to betray any one, why didst thou not betray the Assyrian King in favour of thy Princess? and why didst thou not really release her? Why didst thou not convey her into the hands of the invincible Artamenes, who only is worthy of her? Then would she at the least have had an esteem or friendship for thee: and though thou wert the most unfortunate man that ever breathed, yet it is better being so, then being her Ravisher. Oh most insensible Sot that I was, couldst thou ever hope to be loved by doing that which was most likely to procure hatred? Had I not an illustrious Example of this before my eyes on one of the greatest Kings in all Asia? who carried her away, and got nothing by his violence but her hatred: and yet I must carry her away also, but the Gods have most severely punished me for it: If my death would have satisfied that Justice, certainly I should have perished in the same place with her: but since they knew that her death would punish me most severely, they keep me alive to punish me with most horrid torments. Thus Madam, did the Prince Mazares argue with himself: It was in vain for Tiburtus to tell him he must submit unto the Will of the Gods; for his sorrows were too great to suffer him: All endeavours to put him in memory of honour and glory were also in vain: Ambition was dead in his Soul, and he thought nothing in this World now more glorious then eternally to lament the death of Mandana: yet did Tiburtus still importune him to return unto his Father, and did speak of it so much, that this unfortunate Prince seeing he could not persuade Tiburtus to let him live an unknown solitary life, resolved to steal away from him, and to go into some Cell, and lament his miseries alone: In order unto this, he hired a young Fisherman to let him pass in the night time over the Water, which was not above fifty furlongs from the Isle, and left a Letter with him for Tiburtus, to this effect.  
The unfortunate MAZARES unto the wise TIBURTUS.  
SInce I see all your sapient admonitions cannot infuse Reason into my Soul, which is sensible of nothing but its own sorrows, I thought it best to part from you, lest my miseries should infect you: But to the end that you may justify yourself unto the King and Queen, let them see by this Letter, that since I do not think myself worthy to be their Son, nor to write unto them, I will for ever renounce all civil society: yet tell them, that it was Love only which made me a Criminal; and that if I had never loved the divine and unfortunate Mandana, I had never done any thing unworthy either of them or you, who have given me a million of good advices, which this passion only did keep me from following.  
MAZARES.  
This Prince then having given this Letter unto the young Fisherman who carried him over the River, and bought him a Horse, also caused a very poor suit of Clothes to be made for him at a little Town whither he used to go and sell his Fish, he took the next way that he found; for his sorrows made him not care which way he went. In the mean while the young Fisherman returned to the Isle, and gave Tiburtus the Letter which the Prince did send him, and which did drive him into such excessive sorrow, as never was greater: But all unprofitable Lamentations were but loss of so much time, and therefore he immediately left the Isle to seek his Master, and went unto the next Town to buy a Horse, and to take that way which the young Fisherman told him he took: but it being a good while since the Prince did go away, he could not overtake him; yet had he the comfort as he rid on a day and a half together to hear two or three times that he traveled that way; but his grief was, that they who saw him pass, reported that he kept no high ways. Tiburtus being very old, was not able to travel so long without rest, unless he should fall sick, so that age and weariness compelled him to stay twelve or fifteen days. As good fortune was, he found a little Church, dedicated unto Ceres, standing in the midst of a field, without any other building about it but only the Priest's house which joined unto it, so that finding himself very ill he stayed there, and desired help: Indeed the Priest had a great compassion and care of him; for Tyburtus being a man of great ingenuity and parts, made himself soon known unto this charitable Host to deserve relief, yet could he not recover any health; all that could be done unto him, was only to prolong his miserable life until a prodigy conducted me to the place where he was, as I shall relate unto you. You know Sir (said Orsanus unto Cyrus, that when you went from Sinope into Armenia, I asked leave of you to return unto the King my Master, though I was extremely sorry I could not carry the Prince Mazares with me; so that parting from you, loadned with your gifts, ravished with admiration, and charmed with your virtues, I took the best way to go unto the place at which I aimed. The third day of my journey, when I was wand'ring out of my way, I discovered a great Plain, in the midst of which I saw a little Church, and a very pleasant house: It being not very late, and I weary, I went thither, not only with intentions to inquire of the way, but to desire the favour of a night's lodging, and I was received in with as much humanity as I could either expect or desire: The Priest made some excuses; that his accommodation was not so good as other times it might have been, telling me, that those few servants he had were so busy about a stranger that was sick in his house, and so ill, that they thought him a dead man, as his entertainment would not be so good as he wished it were.  
As he was thus speaking unto him, one came to tell him, that the stranger was very ill, and desired to speak with him, that he might impart a secret of some concernment unto him: I hearing this, did desire to see him, and not knowing well why, I went unto the Chamber of this sick man: But oh heavens, how was I amazed, when I saw him to be Tyburtus, whom I thought drowned with the Prince our Master? My wonder was so great that I could not express it by my words: But after a little recollection of myself, I went unto his Bed's side, and the sight of me surprised him no less than he did me: The Priest also perceiving by our actions that we knew each other very well, and that we much rejoiced at the sight of each other, was amazed as well as me: Tyburtus holding out his hand unto me, gave thanks unto the Gods for affording him so much happiness as to embrace me before he died; then did I endeavour to persuade him his disease was not so bad as he thought it, but he knew the greatness of his pain better than I did. No, no, Orsanus, said he unto me, let me not flatter myself, the Gods do not work miracles every day, and I have rendered myself so unworthy of them, that I ought not to murmur at their wills; I know that all remedies are in vain, and I perceive the end of my doleful days is at hand, therefore I sent unto this wise and charitable Clergyman to receive a secret from me, which was not fit to be buried with me in my Tomb; But since the Gods have so fitly brought you hither, I shall not trouble him with it, since it does not at all concern him to know it, but shall in few words reveal it unto you. The Priest hearing Tyburtus say so, did withdraw, purposely to leave him liberty to speak what he pleased: Tyburtus first assuring him, that he changed his mind not for want of any esteem of him, but only because the business concerned one which I did know, and which he did not. After that the Priest was gone, I began to condole with him the death of our dear Master; but Tyburtus stopping me very short, told me all that I have told you: After this (said he) you may well know, that the Gods in bringing you hither did intend I should acquaint you that the Prince Mazares is not dead, to the end you may go and seek him, as I intended all the days of your life, until you have found him out. This Orsanus was my design, and this aught to be yours, if you love your Master, if you had not happily arrived, I had engaged the Priest by oath to acquaint the King of Saces, that the Prince his Son was not dead: But since you are here, I thought it not expedient to let any Subject of the King of Medes know that he was living; for he hath procured unto himself such terrible enemies in the persons of Ciaxares, the King of Assyria, and the invincible Artamenes, by carrying away the Princess Mandana, that I think it good none know it but yourself. Tyburtus having done speaking, and I promising him to seek our illustrious Master throughout all Asia, he seemed to be a little more cheerful, so that we talked at least two hours concerning the Prince Mazares. And as he understood, since he came to that place, that the Princess Mandana was not dead, but that she was in the power of the Pontean King, and that it was thought he carried her unto Armenia, he gave me advice, that after I had sought a while in Cappadocia, to go thither also, it being to be supposed, that Mazares would either be there, or else be near the Princess whom he adored. But Madam, why should I trouble you any longer with relations of Tyburtus, who only languished in life till he saw me? For as soon as he had imparted his troubled soul unto me, he grew worse, and the next day died: I took his loss with much grief, so that my joys at my Masters being alive were mixed with sorrows. In the mean time, after I had paid my last duties unto dead Tyburtus, and rendered a thousand thanks unto the Priest for his charitable cares of him, I went and wandered I knew not well whither, yet I conceived it my best course would be, to be near the place where Mandana was said to be, since in all probability that Prince who was in Love with her, and believed her to be dead, would seek all opportunities to see her risen from the dead as soon as he should hear of it: I resolved therefore upon two courses, the one, to send a servant which waited upon me, who was both faithful and witty, unto the Queen of Saces, to comfort her with her Sons being alive, and to tell her, that I thought it expedient not to publish it until he was found. The other was, that after I had wandered a while about Sinope, where I feared he remained sick, I would then wend towards Armenia, where it was reported the Princess Mandana was carried: and according to these resolutions, I dispatched my servant, then inquired with all possible diligence whether I could hear any thing of Mazares, but could not meet with the least intelligence of him in all Cappadocia: After which, I went unto Artaxates, whilst the Army of Ciaxares believed Mandana to be kept up close in a Castle upon the River Araxes: And as I believed as others did, that if the Prince Mazares were alive, he would be also at Artaxates, I went from place to place, and from Temple to Temple in quest of him: Then when I heard of any general Muster of Soldiers, I looked every Soldier in the face, in hopes to find him: Then it came into my fancy, seeing I could not hear any thing of him, that perhaps he was so subtle, as to find out means to get into the Castle, where the Princess Mandana was supposed to be, and the Princess of Pontus, before whom I speak then was; so that I resolved to stay in that place, and wait for the event of the War, having no manner of other hopes to find him I was in quest of. And indeed Sir (said Orsanus unto Cyrus) I stayed there, until you by your incomparable valour did take that Castle with a few Forces, in the sight of an innumerable vumber of armed enemies. It is impossible for me to tell you how sad my soul was, when I see that the Princess Mandana was not in the Castle; and I may say it without any dissimulation, that you Sir were not more grieved not to find Mandana there, than I was not to find my Master, nor known where to search either for her or him, for I sought for her only in hopes to find him there: However, patience is my best remedy; and since I known you took all imagineable care to discover where that Princess was, I resolved to follow the same course you steered: But since I would not be known unto you, though you treated me very favourably at Sinope, because I would not acquaint you with the true reason which brought me into Armenia, nor had any mind to dissemble with you; therefore I shunned your sight with a possible care, I remained therefore kept close in Artaxates, till I understood you thought the Princess Mandana was at Susa, and that she would cross the Country of Matenes, which joins upon Armenia and Cicilia, and then I designed to take that way: And having found a guide, who was very well versed in the ways, he conducted me so short a cut, that I overtook Abradates; and the King of Pontus, as they conducted this Princess, before they separated, and by consequence before you fought with the King of Susiana: 'Tis true, I did not think it convenient to show myself unto the Princess Mandana, but contenting myself with looking upon her, and the Troops which passed by and guarded her: But since I could not find him I sought for amongst them, I thought that happily he might follow at a distance; and understanding that this Princess was to embark at a Cicilian Port to sail unto Ephesus, I got thither before hand, enquiring in every house where strangers used to lodge, whether such a one was not there. I went also into every Ship which was to put forth, whether any Passengers were to embark; but do what I could, both before the Princess Mandana came thither, and when she was there, and after she was gone, I could not meet with the least knowledge of him; so that I stayed still by the water side, after I had seen the Princess Mandana embark, as sad a soul as ever lived; and truly my fear was, that he had either took some desperate course with himself, or at least was dead of extreme melancholy, in some obscure place where none knew him; for since I understood by several persons which I had seen in the Armenian Army, that the Prince Mazares was not returned unto the King his Father, and since I could not find him about the Princess Mandana, I could conclude no other but that he was dead; all hopes being then quite extinguished of ever meeting with him, I resolved to return into my own Country; for though I promised Tiburtus to wander all my life long until I found him, yet since no hope was left of finding him, I thought it was in vain to be over-strict in keeping that promise: Thus than I resolved to return, and in order to that I enquired the best and safest Ways: and I was informed that the shortest and best way was to go along the River Cydne, and to leave that great Mountain in Cicilie, which is called the black Mountain, on the left hand: That afterwards I must pass into Armenia, and get into the River Araxes, where I should need no Guide, since I known the Way very well from thence into my own Country.  
But as the Gods are sometimes pleased to make a Tempest drive a Ship unto a Port, in lieu of dashing it against the Rocks, so they caused me to wander out of my way most happily; and in lieu of taking that way which conducted unto the River Cydne, I took another Road, which led me so far into that prodigious Mountain whereof I spoke, that I knew not which way to go back again: Yet since it was extreme hot Wether, and all other parts of Sicily was an open Country, I was not at the first sorry I had mistaken my way for another where the tops of the Rocks which did hang one over another was a great shadow unto me in my travel: But at last, when I saw no living creature but a sort of little wild Beasts, which the Inhabitants of that Country call Squillaques, which naturally are apt to stealing, and which follow all them that pass this way to filch something from them, I confess that I repented my going so far in this Way, principally out of fear lest I should wander so far in this hideous Mountain, that I could not get out again when night came on: so that conceiving easier for me to turn back by the paths I came, then to follow an unknown Road where I could meet with none to inquire of, I faced about, and returned the same way I came: but coming unto a place where there was several beaten paths, I mistook the right, and went into one by which I did not come: I went straight forward a long while, thinking I had been right, and yet methought I saw many things which I observed not before; and other times methought I knew where I was: but sometimes hoping I was right, and sometimes fearing I was wrong, I still went forward, impatiently desiring to be from amongst those Rocks: for often I had a huge high Mountain on my right hand, and a horrid Precipice on my left, and the best way I had rough and rocky. I ask you pardon Sir, for insisting so long upon a description of these things: But I must needs confess they made such a deep impression in my mind, that I could not choose but describe them as they were. After I had traveled in this manner a long while, and came unto a place where there was no tract, I was forced to stay, because the night coming on apace, I was in some danger of falling into some Precipice, if I had continued on little longer: I lighted then from my horse, and putting the bridle upon my arm (for there was no tree in that place to tie him unto) I sat down under a Rock; and leaning upon another little one, I resolved to take up my Inn there, and to keep myself if possible from sleeping, lest my Horse should break loose, or some wild beast come unto me; And indeed I passed away almost all the night without a wink of sleep, or having any desire unto it, as well because the obscurity of that desert place, which carries a kind of terror with it, that moves not much unto sleep, as because I heard a great multitude of those filching Cattle continually pass by me: But at last, being a little used to the noise which they made, and being very weary with travelling amongst these rugged Rocks without one bit of meat, about an hour before day I fell asleep against my will, and waked not before Sun rise, and I believe I had slept longer, if one of these crafty beasts, following their natural inclination, had not awaked me, by drawing out of my pocket the Table-book, in which I had writ down the Ways by which I was to go; so that though they say these Squitaques are commonly as cunning at thieving as are any I acedemonians, yet he that which stole my Table-book did awake me: I no sooner opened my eyes, but seeing this Animal, running away with my Table-book in his mouth, I got on horseback and rid after him, crying as loud as I could to affright him and make him let it fall, and after I had chased him a long while, he turned short behind a great Rock, and I made all possible speed lest I should lose the sight of him, and when I turned where he did, I saw he had let fall what he had stolen from me, and ran away as fast as ever he could. But Sir, I was strangely amazed, when following this little Animal, I found it had conducted me into a little Plain about 15 or 20 furlongs in length, and ten or twelve broad, boundered with the most pleasant Wood that is in the whole World; beyond which was a huge and sterile Mountain, which seemed to touch the Clouds, and made the most terrible and most pleasing object both that ever was beheld; for Nature had so moulded it from top to bottom, that without a sight of it, it is impossible to conceive how well the greenness of this pleasant Wood, opposite to this ragged Mountain, did please all beholders: When I first espied it, I stopped, not knowing whether I should venture into a Wood whose paths were unknown unto me: yet since I knew no safer way than that, I thought it better to wander in a pleasant shade, then amongst a heap of rubbish Rocks, where not a pile of grass did grow. I went over then this little Plain, in the midst of which I spied an Arbour, which the rays of the Sun could never penetrate though never so hot, and the Trees of it were perpetually green, being composed of Cedars, Pines, Myrtles, Ewes, as such like Trees, who keeps those leaves all Winter green which the Spring time gives them; and the Wonder of the Object was, that these Trees did grow amongst the Rocks, and all the Rocks were covered with such variety of all sorts of Moss, and of as many several colours, as that the Rainbow had not more nor more delighting: The variety of these Trees, and the perpetual freshness of the leaves, made this Wood incomparably pleasant. I wandered then through this great and pleasing Wood, where a thousand several sorts of pretty birds did make a most harmonious echo, testifying by the little fear they had of me, that the place was but seldom frequented: After I had gone five or six hundred paces, I espied on my right hand a very pleasant Fountain, which boiling up amongst a heap of Pebbles, covered over with a pretty Moss of Emerald colour, did make a little Rivulet, and ran turning and winding itself along the side of the Wood, opposite to that aspiring Mountain of which I spoke before. As I stood by the side of this Crystal Fountain, I observed a little path which parted from the great Road, and did lead towards the thick of the Wood; and after I had rested myself a while by this Fountain, I followed that path, which always ascended, sometimes inclining towards the right hand, and sometimes towards the left, because the hill was too steep to go strait up: When I was in the midst of this Woody Rock, O Heavens, how I was amazed, when I discovered a great Cave which went into the Rock, and by it the Prince Mazares sitting upon a stone! who at the noise I made turned his head towards me, and presently knew me, and gave me demonstrations to know him: I was so exceedingly startled at the sight of him, that I was a while and knew not what I did, nor alight from my Horse: my eyes were so full of tears, and my heart so full of sorrow, that stood I like a stone, and knew not whether what I saw was real. But at last, my dear Master rising up, and naming me with a great cry, I revived out of my astonishment: so that lighting from my Horse, and tying him unto a Tree, I went and cast myself at his feet: But he immediately took me up, and embraced me with extraordinary tenderness; My dear Orsanus, said he unto me, is it possible I should ever have a sight of you again? and will you force me whether I will or no to have some minutes of consolation in my life? Sir (said I unto him, with eyes swimming in tears, to see the melancholy in his looks, and to imagine how sadly he had lived since I saw him) I do not intend to add minutes; but an age of consolation unto you, The sight of you indeed is most dear unto me (replied he,) but Orsanus, since I have been the cause of my divine Mandana's death, no consolation can comfort me. But Sir (replied I hastily) if I should tell you that the Princess Mandana lives, would not that be a comfort unto you? No Orsanus, replied he, it would not, since I could not believe you: I should think it only your plot to draw me out of this sad solitude, wherein I live, and in which I am resolved to die. Yet let me tell you, replied I, that what I say is most certainly true, for this Mandana, who both you and I thought dead, I saw her alive with my own eyes. Ah Orsanus (cried he out) I would I could believe this, and die immediately after; that I might not be deluded by so pleasing a lie, and be for ever delivered from all the miseries which I endure. But Sir (replied I) is it possible this Desert should be so little frequented, and this Cell in which you inhabit so unknown unto all men, that not one of them should come and tell you how all Asia is in Arms for the Princess Mandana; that the illustrious Artamenes is no more Artamenes, but known to be Cyrus, Son to Cambyses King of Persia; That Ciaxares after he had imprisoned him, did release him, and made him General of his Army; That the King of Pontus, after he had lost all his Kingdoms, and flying away in a Ship, did save the Princess Mandana's life, immediately after the fury of the boisterous Waves had separated her from you; That the invincible Cyrus, thinking that Prince had carried her into Armenia, drew the War thither, and became Master of it; That in lieu of releasing the Princess Mandana, he released only the Sister of his Rival, that is, the Princess of Pontus; That afterwards the King her Brother being reported to be at Susa with the Paincess Mandana, and that she was to embark for Cicilie, conducted by the King of Susiana, and by the Queen Panthea, Cyrus followed Abradates, defeated him, and took the Queen his Wife a Prisoner, in lieu of releasing the Princess Mandana, that the King of Pontus, according to his design, embarked with the Princess of Medea, and steered towards Ephesus.  
Whilst I was speaking thus, the Prince Mazares harkened unto me with extraordinary attention, and by his quick and piercing looks endeavoured to penetrate through my eyes into the bottom of my heart, to know whether what I spoke were sincere and really true; so that I perceiving that fain he would, but could not believe me: No, no, Sir (said I unto him) do not suspect me of any falsehood, since the truths which now I tell you are so generally known, that there is not so much as a Shepherd in all Asia who knows not that Mandana is living, and that there is two hundred thousand men in Arms ready to release her. This Princess (added I) hath also passed so near you, that certainly she hath seen the Cedar tops which grow in this your Desert: I am confident that I am not mistaken, for she might discover them as she went to embark: How Orsanus, said he, can I possibly believe Mandana not dead? Can I think those eyes of yours, which now look upon mine, hath seen her alive, and that she looked upon the tops of these Mountains? Ah Orsanus, if this be true, I am not so miserably unfortunate as I thought myself.  
As this Prince was thus talking, I spied coming out of the Wood a man admirably handsome, of a pleasant physiognomy, but seemed something melancholy, who being also as much surprised to find the Prince Mazares in conference with me, as I was to find my Master in such a solitude, we gazed upon each other with equal amazement: But the Prince Mazares calling him, Come Belesis (said he unto him) help to know whether Orsanus (of whom I have spoke so much unto you, and whom I reckoned amongst the losses which I thought I had sustained) do really tell me the truth. Then he whom my Master called Belesis, hearing my name, came forward, and saluting me with such civility as let me know that all which Mazares loved was dear unto him, I returned him a salute with much reverence; after which, my Master commanded me to relate all that I had before told him, obliging me very often to assure him, that I would speak in all sincerity: Afterwards, ask me how I escaped the Shipwreck? how I came into Sicily? how I found out his Desert? and whether I knew what was become of Tyburtus? I fully satisfied his curiosity in all things, and acquainted him with the death of that wise old man Tyburtus, conceiving that he would apprehend his death with less sorrow at this time when he heard Mandana was alive, then if I should have deferred it; yet was he much perplexed at it, and did exceedingly lament him: And since Belesis and he did nothing else, since they were together, but make relations of their lives, and continually discourse of their misfortunes, he lamented the poor Tyburtus as much, as if be had been perfectly acquainted with him, though he known him not at all, but only by the report of the Prince Mazares. In the mean time, since I had a great desire to know how my Master came unto that place, and to learn who that stranger was; also when they met, I took so much freedom upon me, as to ask him, beseeching him to pardon me if I were too bold, and to believe it proceeded from my very great affection to him: It is but just Orsanus, said he unto me, That a Prince of whom you have had so much care, and sought so long, aught to render you an account of himself: But that I may the more conveniently do it, follow Belesis and me, and we will show you our habitation: Alas Sir (said I, and followed them) I believe your Palace is more beautiful without then within, and that there is a great difference between your Grot and the Wood, besides it. You shall be a Judge of that presently; answered Belesis, and entering in with them, I was exceedingly astonished at the sight: For Sir, all Art and Nature together did never make a place so beautiful in any place of the world, as Nature alone did in this: I found this Grot to be very deep and large, and yet not obscure, for the Mountain being very steep, there were several Windows pierced through it, and gave light enough to discern all the rarities both without and within it; a thousand admirable congealations were the ornaments of this place, where one might behold Pillars, Arches, Trees, Flowers, Leaves, Mosses, Urns, Tombs, and a thousand other such things, all of a substance, as clear and transparent as ever was any Crystal in the world: At two sides of this wonder I saw two Fountains, which neither fwelling nor diminishing, kept constant at the same level, the water certainly having some undiscernible course through some crannies of the Rock, according to the measure they received from others. When I seriously had viewed these rare and delightful wonders, I could not choose but admire at the providence of God, who had brought the Prince Mazares into so pleasant a Wilderness. Well Orsanus (said Belesis unto me, and seeing my admiration) Do you think the Prince Mazares did err when he called this Grot a Palace? No Sir (said I unto him) But I must confess, I do not understand how you live for want of Victuals: You shall know that immediately, said he unto me: Then going unto the entry of this Cave, he called a servant which he had there, who came out of another little and less beautiful Room which joined to the other, and commanded him to give me something to eat, to let me see their garden, and to have a care of my horse, which was set in a little Cave further off, for all this Mountain was full of them; and accordingly, this servant unto Belesis, whose name was Arcas, after he had given me a good Dinner, did carry me some fifty paces further unto the foot of the Rock, and showed me a garden so full of all manner of Herbs, Roots, Pease, Beans, and such like, and Arcas told me, that sometimes he went to Hunt, that I wondered how men who sought for death should find subsistence in such a place. Arcas also told me, that his Master by reason of several disasters, had renounced all civil society, and having found out this admirable place in the black Mountain, he resolved to dwell in it all the remainder of his life: So that he, whether his Master would or no, had provided such things as were absolutely necessary for the life of a man. Afterwards he told me, that after they had been settled a while here, the Prince Mazares came accidentally into this solitary place, and Belesis and he became such intimate friends, as they promised never to part, but die together in this Desert: But (said I unto him) How do they employ themselves every day? In condoling, walking sometimes single, sometimes together (replied he) Some books they have also, for I told you already, that at first when my Master made choice of this Cave for his habitation, I brought hither every thing which I thought might be serviceable unto him; and truly I think these two illustrious melancholy companions are now so accustomed to the life they lead, that they would hardly change it; yet truly, I do not think they can live long thus, or rather indeed I wonder they have lived so long, considering the extreme melancholy which possesseth them.  
Arcas having told me all these things, and showed me his Garden, I went unto the place where I left my Master with Belesis, and he went to take care of my horse which was put with another, which my Master brought into that Wilderness. I was yet unsatisfied what they did when night came upon them, but was not long so; for when it began to be dark, I perceived in divers places about this vault there were several pieces of transparent Rock in divers places, all which were filled with a kind of Oil which Arcas had extracted out of Fir Trees, which grew in great abundance within that Wood, and that faithful servant of Belesis, with the help of a kind of Cotton, made abundance of Lamps that gave a most glorious light within the Crystal Grot; so that it seemed incomparably more lustrious and splendent when all these rustic Lamps were lighted, than it did in the day. The Beds of these two retired melancholy men, were suitable to the rest, and were made of Moss, Reeds, and Rushes, for they did not seek for any Downy Beds of ease. The Prince Mazares was grown to such a habit of melancholy, that he could not rejoice at any thing; and Belesis as sad as he was, had a greater share in that satisfaction which he ought to have in hearing Mandana was alike, than he himself had such a customary habit of sorrows had seized upon his soul; yet finding some satisfaction in relating sad stories, he told me what his thoughts were when he stole away from Tyburtus; how having a design to seek out some place where he might pass unknown, he resolved to embark for Sicily, and so to pass into Arabia the Desert, and there end his days: Yet having consulted with an Oracle, the Gods did by their answer forbid him that course, and directed him to devil in the black Mountain in Sicily, where he should find some consolation: Thither I went then (said he unto me) and at first believed that the consolation which the heavens had promised me was death: For passing a day and a half in these Mountains without seeing any body, I made no question then but death would soon be my lot. But at last, the Gods being my Guide as well as Commander, I met Belesis walking in the Wood, and spoke unto him; presently we grew acquainted, and the same day did begin so great a league of friendship, that we promised never to part from each other: Yet I am very ready to disengage you from your word (said Belesis, and interrupted him) for since the Princess Mandana lives, it is not just you should be tied unto he fortunes of a miserable man, who is out of all hopes to better himself; yet I shall have this advantage, that the end of your miseries will shorten mine, since certainly I shall die as soon as I am deprived of the sweetness which I find in your company. Alas, alas, Belesis (said the Prince Mazares) you are not acquainted with the malignity of my fate, if you imagine I can ever be happy: I must confess it is an extraordinary comfort unto me to hear that Mandana is alive, and that though I was her Ravisher, yet I was not her Executioner: But for all that, since I cannot leave loving her, and knowing it to be impossible I should ever get myself so high in her esteem as I was before, it may be said that I do nothing but change misery for misery; and which way soever I look upon the matter, I find myself the most unfortunate Prince upon Earth: for since I was the cause that this Princess fell into the power of the Pontean King, that she hath been hurried from Kingdom to Kingdom, and that all Asia is in War about it, I am most confident she hates my memory every minute in the day, and thinks the Gods most just in drowning me as a punishment of my crime: And I may assure myself, that as soon as she hears I am not dead, she will be as sorry for it as I am glad to hear she is living: Moreover, I am so unfortunate as to have such Rivals, as in any reason I cannot hate them, but such as I ought rather to lament: The King of Assyria is cruelly betrayed by me, and I carried away from him, her whom he infinitely loved, for whose sake he hath lost the greatest Kingdom in all Asia: As for the King of Pontus, how can I complain against him? Since I ruined Mandana, and he saved her, must I not rather accuse myself then him? Can I in any justice quarrel with a Prince who rescued my Princess from her grave which I laid open for her? What can I allege against the illustrious Cyrus? What Crime can I tax him with? or to say better, How may he accuse me? for I made use of his Name to deceive the adored Mandana; under that illustrious Title I seduced her, and have eternally lost that esteem and friendship which I might have for ever enjoyed: Do you remember Orsanus (said he to me) the time when this illustrious Princess was at Babylon? how she called me her Protector: alas, how undeserving was I of that glorious Title? I have just cause to believe that of all her Lovers and Adorers, she hates me the most: The King of Assyria, as violent as he is by Nature, has not so much affronted her as I have done: The King of Pontus, in keeping that only which fortune gave him is not so culpable as I am; for I, miserable I, am not only an unjust, rash and insolent Lover of this Princess, but also a perfidious Friend and wicked Cheater, whose memory she may justly hate: Why should I trouble myself about her Liberty? (said he,) for if the illustrious Cyrus do not recover it for her, none else can.  
The Prince Mazares was so vehement in such expressions as these, that I thought it not convenient to contradict him, lest I should more confirm him in his resentments by too much opposition; But granting him some things, and disputing others, our Conversation lasted till faithful Arcas brought in Supper, which was more neat than magnificent, as you may well imagine: After which, my dear Master asked me, how I came to see Mandana, whether Martesia and Araminta were with her? and as in my answers I phrased Abradates' King of Susiana, Belesis interrupted me, ask how it was possible Abradates should be King, since when he entered into his solitude, the King his Father and the Prince his elder Brother were alive, and he himself was an Exile at Sardis? The Reason is (replied I unto him) because those two Princes are both dead, and consequently Abradates is King by succession. The Gods are worthy to be praised for it (replied Belesis,) for Abradates is much more worthy to wear a Crown then the Prince his Brother, who has been my greatest Persecutor.  
Pray Orsanus (said Panthea and interrupted him) is this Belesis of whom you speak the same I have so often heard spoken of at Susa when I came there, and one who of all men living is one of the most accomplished Gallants, whom Love hath punished with all his tortures? I know not whether he be the same you mean (replied Orsanus,) but I know that Belesis is of Mantiana, and hath dwelled at Susa a long time; That Love hath been the misfortune of his life, and that the Prince of Susa elder Brother of Abradates hath made him complain much of his violence towards him. There is no question (said Panthea) but he is the same I mean; so that I can assure you the Prince Mazares is in company of one of the best loved men in all Asia, as those who have known him tell me, even by her whom he most loved, though since she most hates him: But Sir, said she to Cyrus, I pray pardon me for interrupting him in his Relation, and therefore I beseech you let him continue it: Cyrus then returned a Compliment unto Panthea, and commanded Orsanus to proceed, and accordingly he went thus on with his Story.  
You see Sir, how the first day of my being in the Wilderness was spent; Trusty Arcas giving me his bed, and making another for himself as well as he could. It was so late before I went to bed, that the Birds at break of day did awake me within three hours after I began to sleep; yet was I not so soon awake as my Master; for though he was unimaginably joyed that Mandana was alive, yet was it a kind of an interrupted joy, and mingled with so many perplexed thoughts, as he could not sleep that night: As soon as I came out of my little grot, I found him gone out of his, so that finding Belesis alone, I beseeched his help in persuading the Prince Mazares to quit this kind of life which then he lived: But alas Sir, said I unto him, the better to move him unto it, It were requisite you did quit it yourself, and to persuade him rather by your Example then your Reasons. Ah Orsanus, cried Belesis, the destiny of the Prince Mazares and myself are much different, and that which is good for him, is not for me. Sir, replied I, since I am ignorant of your misfortunes, and dare not be so bold as to ask what nature they are of, I cannot so well convince you as perhaps I should if I knew them; but to speak in general, there can be no misfortunes so bitter, but a man of your spirit and Wisdom may sweeten them. 'Tis true, replied he, those miseries which Fortune doth cause may be overcome, but such as Love doth load a man withal, there are no comforts so cordial as to sweeten them, especially such as mine are; however, I will promise you to use my best arguments to move the Prince Mazares unto a removal from hence in the morning, I would say to day (said he and sighed) if my affection unto him did not need some time of preparation before I be separated from so dear a friend. Whilst I was thus talking with Belesis, the Prince Mazares was rather wandering then walking in the Wood; and the disorder of his mind was so great, that he talked as he walked, and in lieu of walking far off from the Grot, he was turned upon it again ere ever he was aware: he found Belesis and me together, as we were going out to look him: No sooner were we met, but Belesis in pursuance of his promise, began to entreat him that he would stay this day with him, seeming as if he made no question but that he had intentions to leave him: As soon as he said so, my Master looking upon Belesis, told him, that the alteration in his fortune should not alter his manner of living; for said he unto him, It is misery enough unto me that I can never pretend unto Mandana's esteem, to make me forsake the society of men, although she be not dead; yet it was the despair which her death did cause in you, and that made you take up a resolution of forsaking the sight of men. 'Tis true, replied Mazares, but why would you advise me unto a life which will bring more bitter sorrows unto me then this I live? Consider well Belesis what you advise me unto, and tell me truly what you think to be my best course. Sir, replied he, a man that is not in love would advise you to endeavour to forget the Princess Mandana, and to return unto the King your Father and the Queen your Mother, who would infinitely rejoice at it: But since I too well know the power of that Passion over those who are captivated with it, I must ingeniously tell you, that though I think it expedient for you to quit your Desert, yet I know not what to say, therefore I advise you to be your own Counsellor, and to follow your own inclination. I have mused away all this night (replied the Prince my Master) in contemplation of my present condition, but cannot resolve what I ought or what I would undertake; yet I must confess I find in my Soul such a violent desire to see the Princess Mandana, that I cannot tell whether or no I am able to resist it: And yet at the same time, I find myself so extremely ashamed of my Crime, that I think I shall never be able to show myself: so that my fears and my desires will not suffer me to resolve what course to take: Moreover, though I should resolve to see her, yet how can I bring it to pass? If I go into Lydia where she is, and present myself unto Croesus, who fights against Cyrus, than it may be said that I fight for the King of Pontus, against a Prince who would release the Princess: If I should go into the Army of Cyrus, and think to have the honour of fight for Mandana, then perhaps I should only fight for Cyrus and the King of Assyria, and die before I have expiated my Crime by any considerable service. What shall I do then? I cannot resolve to fight neither for the King of Pontus, nor for the King of Assyria, nor for Cyrus; and yet my destiny is so odd, that I cannot engage myself on either side, but I must serve some of my Rivals; and it is absolutely impossible to imagine any way which can be advantageous to me. Moreover, since the Princess Mandana loved Cyrus when he was only Artamenes, and in her fidelity to him did scorn the greatest King of all Asia; what likelihood is there, that now since Artamenes is become Cyrus, the King of Persea's Son, who since hath conquered many Kingdoms, that she should change her affection to him: No, no, said he, she will never change; and I must needs confess, she has no reason to change; nor can I ever hope to obtain the Love of this Princess, the height of my ambition is, That she would not hate me: Yes Mandana, said he, could I but let you see my real repentance, and could do you any such considerable service as would force your generosity to pardon me, and admit me unto your esteem again, I should desire no more, but take all my miseries with content: But alas, how is it possible for me to obtain this my desire?  
Sir (said I unto him, in hopes to make him quit his Desert) you may obtain what you desire, if you will contrive ways how to release the Princess of Medea, and restore her unto the King her Father: But to effect that; you must renounce your solitude, and go where Mandana is, and seek all occasions of doing as I advise you: Oh Orsanus (said he) you would not advise me thus, but only to make me leave this Grotto; for you know well enough, that what you advise me unto is not easy to compass: If you were once in the way, replied I, I should then answer you more affirmatively; but this is most certain, that as long as you bury yourself alive in this Wood, you can never do any service unto the Princess whom you love, who yet hates the very thought of you, and who cannot know how you repent the carrying her away as long as you are here? Moreover, if things so fall out that you cannot effect what I advise you unto, and that you absolutely resolve to renounce the world, and enter into your Tomb alive, you may when you please find this Cave always open to receive you, and always find Belesis there (replied that other illustrious solitary man who overheard us) if death have not put an end unto all his miseries before your return: No, no, Belesis, replied the Prince Mazares, We will never part, and if Orsanus do persuade me to quit this Wilderness, it shall be upon condition that you shall quit it also, else I will never quit it. Belesis hearing my Master say so, answered him as one that was extreme unwilling to quit the place, and there grew a most generous contest between them; Belesis desiring him to depart and leave him in his solitude, and Mazares resolved not to depart, unless he would with him, and so the matter rested that day without any resolutions upon it. The next morning I had induced my Master to leave this Savage habitation if Belesis would go with him, and with my prayers and tears I had prevailed with Belesis to accompany my Master, until he was in a more happy condition. Both of them being thus resolved, I importuned them to depart immediately lest their minds should alter, yet we were forced to stay a while, because neither of them would be seen in such habits as then they did wear. Since I had enough left of what Sir you were pleased to give me for our equipage; and moreover Belesis had good store of Jewels, which his trusty servant kept carefully for him, we sent him unto the next Town with my horse to buy another horse, and to provide clothes for my Master and Belesis. Within three days after he returned with all things necessary for our voyage, which we undertook in an odd kind of manner, for I observed that the Prince Mazares and Belesis did leave their Desert, as men that had a design to return again, yet I seemed as if I did not observe any thing, hoping that time and company might happily make them change thoughts. In the mean time Arcas was to be our guide out of this Woody Mountain, and indeed did very happily conduct us: For my part, though the place was the most beautiful of any in the world, yet I was very glad to be out of it: Always when I looked upon Belesis, I saw him look upon this Mountain with a sigh: But since we wanted yet many accoutrements for our voyage, we stayed at the first Town we came at to furnish ourselves, where my Master caused a Buckler to be made, which he hath carried ever since, and whereby you may see Sir, (if ever you observed it) how severely he censured himself, since therein he expresseth himself worthy of death for carrying away Mandana. Belesis also furnished himself with such arms as suited best to his liking: And during all the voyage, I used all my best arguments to persuade the Prince Mazares rather to return unto the King his Father, then to go unto Mandana, for he could never hope for the least favour: But his answer was, that he would never have left his Cave, but only in hopes to release her, and with full intentions to return thither again if he could not effect his design. When I see then with what resolution he spoke unto me, I thought it better to yield unto him, then to contest any longer. Then we inquired concerning the state of things, and were informed that your Army Sir had quitted Armenia, and made towards Cappadocia, to go from thence unto the Frontiers of Phrygia which joined upon Lydia. We understood also, that Abradates would shortly depart from Susa, and engage himself in the behalf of Croessus. Then did we consider whether we should go unto Ephesus by Sea or by Land, but the Prince Mazares had no fancy to trust himself unto the inconstancy of the Winds and Waves, since it was further by Water then by Land; and the King of Pontus would not have carried Mandana that way, but because he feared the illustrious Cyrus would then follow him, therefore it was resolved we should not go by Sea; adding further unto other reasons, that we should never hear any news of the Princess Mandana in a Ship until we came at Ephesus; whereas on the contrary, we should hear all by Land, since there was not a place in all Asia which could not inform us. I shall not trouble you Sir with a relation which ways we went, for that would be too tedious, only this, that we were compelled to make long journeys, and not to stay in any part of Paphlagonia which joins upon Cappadocia: But so it was, whether by change of Air or Diet, Belesis fell sick, and so very sick, that the Prince Mazares thought he would have died there. Belesis did entreat him a hundred times to let him die there, and follow his journey, yet he would not by any means; but on the contrary, protested he would never forsake him as long as he lived. In the mean time, the sickness of Belesis was not only dangerous, but like to last long: The greatest comfort to Mazares was, that he heard the Princess Mandana was in the Temple of Diana at Ephesus, and that as the season of the year was, you Sir could not draw into the field; and also, though he were at Ephesus there was no seeing of Mandana: nor any thinking of getting her out of such a sacred place as that was, yet did he endure the sickness of Belesis with much impatience; but at last he began to grow better and better, and made us hope he would escape, and indeed so he did. When he was quite out of all danger, and had quitted his Bed, his Physician advised him to walk and take the fresh Air: Belesis being very desirous to be in such a condition as he might not be any stay unto Mazares, took his Physicians advise; so that after he had walked some days on foot, he found himself so strong as to ride; then for a trial whether he was able to travel, my Master and he design a journey of fifty Furlongs to walk in a great Wood, and I waited upon them: But Sir, we had no sooner entered a hundred paces in the Wood, than my Master riding alone by himself, some twenty paces before Belesis and me, who were talking together, and returned with much alteration in his aspect, and addressing himself unto me, Come hither Orsanus, said he, and tell whether my eyes deceive me not, for since I never saw Cyrus but once, and then I was not in a very good condition to observe his face; therefore I dare not assure you, that it was he who saluted me, and asked me whether I met not such a man as he described unto me; yet certainly if my imagination do well retain the memory of his Idea, he who I saw was Cyrus: Sir (said I unto him) Do we not hear every where as we pass, that Cyrus is in the head of his Army? Yet I am the most deceived that ever man was, if I do not see him yet at the root of yonder Tree, replied he. In saying so, he showed me the Tree where you Sir was leaning.  
Oh Orsanus, replied Cyrus, I must needs interrupt you in your story, that I may undeceive you, and tell you that I was not in Paphlagonia when you passed through it. I esteem you so much (answered Orsanus) that I will rather believe your words then my own eyes: Your eyes (replied the Princess Araminta, and blushed) are not so as you think them, since in all likelihood it was the Prince Spitridates whom you saw, who resembles the illustrious Cyrus so much, that it is no wonder if you were mistaken. But I beseech you tell me the direct time when you saw him you speak of. Orsanus in obedience to the Princess Araminta did tell her the exact time; so that by the computation of Cyrus and herself, it was concluded that Orsanus met the Prince Spitridates three weeks after the stranger Anaxaris left him wounded in Paphlagonia, and in such a Wood as Orsanus prescribed; so that by this, the Princess Araminta had so much consolation as to know certainly that he was not dead of the wound which he received; but on the other side, she wondered to hear no news from himself. After she had received all the satisfaction which Orsanus could give her, he continued his discourse in these terms.  
The Prince Mazares had no sooner showed me him whom I thought to be the illustrious Cyrus, but I told him, (out of prudence, lest an angry accident should happen) that it was not Cyrus, though he much resembled him. Mazares yet had much ado to believe me, and I think he would have asked this supposed Cyrus whether it was he or no, had not Belesis (whilst we were in this Contest) told Mazares, that certainly I must needs know him better than he could, and therefore by consequence he ought to believe me: mean while, he who was the subject of our discourse, rushed presently into the thick of the Wood, and was quite out of our sight: So the Prince Mazares was forced to continue on his Walk. It is impossible for me Sir, to relate his thoughts unto you; for they were so tumultuously disordered, that he could never tell them unto us: Sometimes he was glad it was not you, and sometimes again sorry, without any reason either for his joys or sorrows: But since all his pretensions were only to release Mandana, and obtain her pardon, we never met with any, but he enquired both concerning her and you Sir.  
That which wondered me most in the business was, that all those with whom we spoke, told us, that you Sir was towards the Frontiers of Lydia; and comparing my belief that it was you I saw, with these reports, the thought of it did so take up my mind, that I could not choose but express it unto my Master two days after the sight of him who resembled you; I told him that I dissembled my real thoughts before, and that I did believe it was you which we saw in the Wood: So that we traveled a whole day reasoning why you should be there; and not being able to reconcile our own sights and these reports, which were so contrary to each other, we still passed on unsatisfied: But since I could not give my own eyes the lie, I conceived, that you had made some secret Voyage unto some neighbour Prince, to negotiate some business or other; and that though reports went you were in your Army, yet it was not impossible but, you might be some days absent: Thus believing that we had seen you, and that you knew not my Master, we arrived at last at Ephesus. The Prince Mazares then changed his Name for that of Telephanes; but Belesis never altered his, because it was unknown in Lydia. I shall not relate unto you Sir, what agitation of Soul was in the Prince Mazares (whom now I will call Telephanes for a while) when he saw the Temple wherein Mandana was; for I would (if possibly I could) conceal his Passion from you, lest I should too much exasperate your spirit against him: yet since the greatness of his Love does make his Virtue appear, I must needs have so good opinion of you Sir, as to believe, that at the end of my Relation you will admire, and perhaps become a friend unto such a Rival as he is, although I do set forth his Passion unto Mandana to be infinitely high: And the truth is Sir, it is impossible a Passion should be more violent: but the Wonder is, that since he came out of his Desert, he never entertained one thought but how to make satisfaction for his fault, and obtain a pardon for it, and I am most confident, that never any poor Peccant fuller of repentance than he, nor did I ever see more cruel remorse of mind: As oft as he considered, that it was through his treachery that Mandana was now enclosed within that Temple, his Soul was so sadded with sorrows, that I wonder he died not; and I verily think, that had not the King of Pontus been so ill when we came to Ephesus, that he kept his bed by reason of a wound in his thigh, so that he was not able to oppose those who would have taken away the Princess Mandana and the Princess Palmis; I am confident, I say, that if he had been there, though he had saved the life of the Princess, yet in the first raptures of his sorrows, my Master had then assaulted him: But afterwards considering that the King of Pontus his death would not have released Mandana, since as the state of things were, Croesus would not part with her, he conceived it more expedient to break her Chains by Policy: And considering that it was impossible to make any attempts upon that place for her Releasement, he thought it better to go unto Sardis, whither she was to be conveyed as soon as Croesus and the King of Pontus were agreed upon their conditions; which were not yet concluded upon, though the Negotiation had not been transacting ever since the King of Pontut came to Ephesus: for as soon as he came thither, he sent to demand protection from Croesus, upon condition that what Treaties soever there were between him and Ciaxares or you, Mandana should never be restored. Since this Proposition seemed very hard, because by granting it, such a War would ensue, as would never be ended till one side was ruined, since it was not probable that Ciaxares would ever cease unless his daughter was declared, therefore the negotiation was very long before it could be concluded; and nothing was done in it, till Crassus having received a smiling answer from the Oracle, and then he consented unto the King of Pontus his desires: yet to find out a plausible expedient wherewith to colour Justice, he engaged himself never to render the Princess Mandana in any Treaty without the King of Pontus his consent; so that after several sendings the one to the other, the business was concluded between them when we came to Ephesus.  
Then did we resolve for Sardis, and when we had put ourselves into a handsome equipage we went unto that stately Town, where the Prince my Master never feared being known: For though Croessus had heretofore been on the King of Assyria's side as well as himself, yet they never saw each other, as well because Croessus was not in Babylon, as because they were always parted in several bodies, so that he went boldly unto him, and offered him his service, Love telling him, that it was not directly against the Rules of Generosity, to conceal his design of releasing Mandana, by such assurances of fidelity, which he would never have failed in, but only for her: And since Towns are commonly taken by craft, he thought he might without any baseness deliver Mandana by subtlety, since I could not by force. To get some reputation with Croessus, he made himself known unto him for what he was, to wit, a man of a great spirit and able parts in Martial marters; so that his design taking effect, Croessus received him very well, and treated both Belesis and me with much civility; and the better to disguise ourselves, there seemed to be no difference of quality between us all, but yet the inclination of Croessus did prefer the supposed Telephanes; First, though Belesis was very handsome, of much spirit, and a gallant deportment: It is very true, that since he did only surmount his sorrows out of his affectionate friendship unto the Prince Mazares, and since that Prince did surmount his own sorrows only to release his Mistress, therefore they acted differently, the one seeming much more forced than the other: However it was, in a few days Telephanes was well known both in Court and Camp, Croessus offered him employment, but he would take none upon him, lest then perhaps he could not lay hold of any fit opportunity which might offer itself; his only care was, not to be suspected, and to insinuate stimself with divers persons: When he understood that they would lodge the Princess Mandana within the Citadel when she came to Sardis, his design was to make him that was Governor his friend, and he brought it so handsomely to pass, that he got a great stroke with him. In the mean time, since the negotiation between Croessus and the King of Pontus could not be completed without an interview, it was resolved they should meet near Sardis, and since all conditions were agreed upon, and they feared that in conveying the Princess Mandana, and the Princess Palmis, something might be attempted for their releasement; therefore Croessus would have them depart from Ephesus, whilst the King of Pontus was not there, purposely because the Spies which Prince Artamas might have amongst them, might the sooner be deceived. The King of Pontus was extremely against it, saying, That since the River Hermes was between your Camp Sir, and the way which these Princesses was to go, there was no fear at all: But Croessus told him, that the Prince Artamas had so many creatures in his Dominions, that he stood in fear of his own Subjects as well as of his Enemies, and therefore the King of Pontus was forced to consent, that orders should be sent unto Andramites to guard these Princesses, and convey them with those Forces which he had unto a certain place where the King of Pontus would meet him with others, and accordingly it was put in execution. In the mean time, since it was the will of Croessus that my Master should wait upon him when he went to meet the King of Pontus, he was then put to an extreme puzzle, since that Prince intended to present him unto his Rival, as a man from whom he expected great services: And the King of Pontus perceiving by the proceedings of Croessus, that he valued this Telephanes at a high rate, and his handsome presence speaking him to be a man of much merit, he received him with great civility, and my Master did answer it with so much turbulence in his countenance, that I have admired a hundred-times, Croessus and the King of Pontus did not perceive it: It is true, that presently after he recollected himself, and carried the matter with as much cunning as a man in Love could, who had a plot to deceive his Rival, and release his Mistress.  
The King of Pontus then was as well pleased with my Master, as my Master would have been with him, if there had not been some secret reasons which took the edge off all those civilities which that Prince expressed unto him, and disobliged him; yet sometimes when he considered him as one that saved Mandana's life, he could not choose but acknowledge himself obliged in his heart. In the mean time, as much as Telephanes desired to see the Princess whom he adored, yet he durst not go with the King of Pontus, who as I told you Sir, was to meet Andramites that guarded her: For since it was not so easy for him to disguise his face as his name, he made no question but if she saw him she would know him; and if she knew him, before she was informed of his real repentance for carrying her away, her extreme aversion to him would discover him, and so his design of restoring her that liberty which he had taken from her would quite be defeated; therefore he made a handsome excuse for not accompanying the King of Pontus, as he desired him, but returned unto Sardis exceedingly disquieted, because he was not able to regulate his desires; for when his repentance and his generosity had the upper hand in his heart, than he wished that the Prince Artamas might attempt something for the liberty of these Princesses, and in lieu of conducting them to Sardis, they might be brought unto your Camp Sir: But then when Love was Queen-Regent in his soul, he could not choose but desire a sight of Mandana, and zealously wish that it might be himself who should release her, and restore her unto you, rather than any other should have that honour from him; yet notwithstanding he had no mind to be ignorant of all passages between the King of Pontus and the Princess Mandana at their meeting; so that for better information of himself, he desired Belesis to accompany that Prince, not daring to send me, because the Princess knew me. But since he could not accord being seen by the Princess, because she was to pass into the Town where he was, he designed to see her out of a Window as she went through the Town unto the Citadel; so that he waited for the return of the King of Pontus, and the Princess' Arrival with much impatience. About two days after, the news was brought, that the Prince Artamas attempting the liberty of the Princesses was taken prisoner, and wounded in several places, and that all his Party were either killed, defeated, or taken prisoners. About two hours after this, another Post came from Andramites, who told Croessus, that the King of Assyria was amongst the prisoners, being known by a Captain that was in the Babylonian War.  
This news, which extremely rejoiced Croessus, grieved my Master; for though the King of Assyria was his Rival, yet to see so great a King 〈◊〉 such a case, moved much sorrow in him, especially considering that this last accident had not been, if he had not carried away the Princess Mandana: Also fearing that this Prince might know him, as well as the Princess might, he was moved to conceal himself with much care, lest all his designs should be spoiled; and indeed I did much confirm him in his resolution of keeping himself unknown, especially as the Princess and the prisoners passed through the Town, and that day he kept in the place where I lodged, and as good luck was, the street where we were, proved to be that through which Mandana was to pass, and so she did. It is impossible I should tell you Sir, what operation this sight had upon the heart of my Master; the truth, and the wonder is, that it did not so much augment his Love as his repentance; for when he saw her so fair and so sad both, he imagined himself to be the cause of that sadness, his sorrows were such, as I can describe them no otherwise, then by telling you that I cannot describe them. As soon as the Chariot wherein both the Princesses were was out of sight, and as he was ready to go from the Window, he saw the King of Assyria appear, guarded with Soldiers, who conducted him and all the rest of the prisoners, except the Prince Artamas, who was not brought unto Sardis until some days after, by reason of his wounds: My Master then seeing at the same time both the Prince whom he had offended, and the Princess whom he carried away, fell into such an ecstasy of sorrow, that it was long before he was able to answer unto what I said unto him, and I believe he had not so soon given over his sad thoughts if Belesis had not entered; his inquisitive desire to know the meeting between the King of Pontus and Mandana was quite cooled, and the sight of this Princess had so troubled his spirits, that he heard Belesis, but understood him not: I should have thought Sir (said I unto him) that since your belief of the Princess being dead did move unto such a desperate sorrow, the sight of her alive should move you to a sensible consolation, and yet I perceive you are as much grieved as ever: Do you think Orsanus (said he to me) that I can look upon Mandana as a Captive, and see her sad, but I must be so also? Alas, alas, Orsanus, I am not capable of any joy until I have made some reparation for all the injuries I have done her; methinks when I looked upon her, I saw her sigh, and saw in her heart that just measure of hatred towards me by her sorrows: I perceived in her innocent soul such a horrid memory of the Prince Mazares, that I am persuaded she thinks upon me perpetually, and her hatred of me reigns in her resentments, according to the measure of all fresh disgraces which befalls her: Judge then Orsanus, whether I can look upon this Divine Princess without disturbed joys, yet I would not but have seen her, and seen her sad; for since I see her fair eyes so full of tears and melancholy, I am become an absolute Master of my Love, and I would release Mandana only for herself, and not for me; whereas if I had not seen so sad an object, my virtue is so weak, I should perhaps have thought only upon my own interest: No, no, imperious Passion (said he) thou that prompted me to commit the greatest sins of my life, yet thou shalt never move me to commit any more, my virtue is now too strong for thee, and thou canst not vanquish me: But what do I say? (added he;) Let me not ascribe that unto Virtue, which appertains only unto Love; and to say the very truth, It is my being extremely in love, that prompts me to act as I intent: Hitherto (said he unto us) I loved Mandana only for myself; but now I will begin to love her for her own sake only: Indeed I know not whether I am able to love her without any desires; but I am certain I will love her without any hopes, and by consequence without offence. Let us then labour my dear Belesis (said this generous Prince) to release my Princess, and for our greater encouragement let us never think of releasing her for ourselves, but for a Prince much more happy than we are; and though I know he deserves all his good fortune, yet perhaps I shall have much ado not to murmur; but I am most absolutely resolved never to molest him.  
These Sir were the thoughts of the illustrious Mazares, who spent the rest of that day and all the night following in the extremity of sorrows: yet not to consume himself in unprofitable sights, he began to observe very circumspectly what Guards they kept about the Citadel, and to nourish that friendship which he had obtained with the Governor, and all with design to see what ways might be devised for the Releasement of the Princess Mandana: The better to procure friends and creatures unto himself, he was always ready to do any good office for the meanest Soldier, either unto the King of Lydia, or the King of Pontus, or unto Abradates who loved him very well: He courted Andramites also for his favour, whom he oblige 〈…〉 ently after the Princesses were brought from Ephesus to Sardis; For reports being sp 〈…〉 bout, either by the Prisoners, or some other unknown way, that he had taken you Sir as well as the King of Assyria and the Prince Artamas, and that at the request of the Princess Palmis he had released you, Croessus was so angry with him, that he was a while in some disgrace: But since it appeared clearly that Andramites did it ignorantly, every one lamented him: And my Master, who in order to his design did endeavour to ingratiate himself with all men of Quality which were both powerful and male-contented, did do Andramites very good service in this business, since Croessus did hearken more unto his Reasons, then unto any others that were alleged in his behalf, which service did so sensibly oblige him, that he vowed eternal friendship. But though Croessus did restore Andramites into his former favour, yet there rested in his heart a secret grudge against that Prince for suspecting him who had given so many testimonies of his fidelity. As for the King of Pontus, he was the saddest man in the World that you Sir was not taken; conceiving that if you had been a Prisoner, than the consequence would have been most happy for him; because he could have paid the debt which he owed in restoring you Sir your liberty, and have satisfied himself and his passion in keeping the Princess Mandana.  
As things were in this condition, we understood that Tegeus son unto the Governor of the Citadel was amongst the Prisoners of War which were taken: And as we understood at the same time that he was in love with a Lady called Cylenise, who was in the Citadel with the Princess Palmis, the Prince my Master desired Belesis, who had a quick wit to find out an opportunity of seeing him, and to know of him whether or no be had any intelligence with any in the Citadel, and whether there was no possibilities of releasing his Mistress, and perhaps himself. Belesis undertook this employment, for my Master could not employ me (because Feraulas being a Prisoner with Tegeus did know me) and he would not go himself, lest the King of Assyria should see him; so that Belesis was the only fit man for the service, and certainly it was a difficult matter to make a better choice; for he transacted the matter admirably well, as you shall hear by the sequel of my Discourse. For my part, I endeavoured to tamper and gain some Soldiers of the Citadel, not telling them wherein I intended to employ them. Thus every one of us being busy, though we yet saw no great likelihood of any happy success in our enterprise, yet we lived in a little less anguish of mind. In the mean time, since the King of Pontus did infinitely esteem the supposed Telephanes, he courted him and his friendship very much, although he found but cold returns: yet since Telephanes durst not but keep within such terms of civility as were fitting for a man of his Quality, the King of Pontus perceived it not, but loved him exceedingly, and so much, that meeting him one day in the Kings Gardenas he came out from a Council of War held in the Closet of Croessus, he began to speak unto him of his misfortunes, and of his Love: But amongst all the rest of his sad disasters which ever had happened unto him, he did not grieve so much for any thing as that he had such a Rival as he could not choose but love, and as he was infinitely obliged unto: For truly (said he unto him) is it not a most miserable condition to be unjust and ungrateful unto the greatest Prince in the World? unto whom I am a debtor both for my life and liberty; unto whom I am beholding for that Sceptre which belongs unto me, if I would take it from him: but yet I cannot; my Love to Mandana is so violent, that I am not Master of my Reason. Telephanes hearing the King of Pontus speak thus, did think it best to confirm him in his generosity, so that perhaps he might induce him to release Mandana: So that being prompted by the spurs of Love which would not let him lose a minute of time, he repeated unto him all that he had so often hinted unto himself since he repented the carrying away of the Princess Mandana. Do you not consider Sir (said he unto him) that every moment you retain the Princess whom you love, she hates you the more for it? I know it very well, replied the King of Pontus; but Telephanes, if ever you were in love, I pray you imagine how difficult a thing it is to part with a Princess, who as soon as she is at liberty will be in the Arms of another? Alas Telephanes, if you advise me to part from her, certainly you were never in love. I wish the God's Sir (rehe and sighed, having so much disorder in his spirit, as it was to see he spoke as he thought) that what you say were true. No Sir, I know what Love is; and I speak as I do, because I know the power of that Passion; for if you love, should you not do any thing to procure the love of her you love? Yes doubtless (replied the King of Pontus.) Why then do you take that course (replied Telephanes) which will procure her hatred? Because I can do no otherwise (replied he,) for what course can I take to avoid her hate? By giving the Princess whom you love her liberty (answered he,) sin 〈…〉 is not possible but she must needs infinitely esteem you, if your Virtue do surmou 〈…〉 our Passion: Then Sir would your glory spread over all Asia; all your Subjects, w 〈…〉 d rebel against him that usurps your Kingdom; every Prince would arm in your behalf, and reconquer your Dominions for you; Cyrus himself would set you upon your Throne: And indeed Sir, I find so much glory in the act I advise you unto, that I would do it, though I were sure to die the next day. Ah Telephanes, cried the King of Pontus, alas, you do not know the sovereignty of that Passion which commands my Soul, although you have been in love; Love is either great or little, either according to the beauty which doth cause it, or else according to the sensibility of that heart which is touched with it, and therefore all the world does not love alike: But Telephanes, I have a Soul the most sensible of all men living, and Mandana is the fairest and most ravishing Beauty upon Earth: Come Telephanes (said he, and would have carried him by the arm towards the Citadel) come and see the Justification of my Crime in the eyes of that Princess whom I adore: for though they are always incensed when they look upon me, at least very melancholy, yet you shall see it is impossible to be deprived of them and live. Telephanes was much surprised at the Proposition, and so much disordered, that if the King of Pontus had not been blinded with his over-zeal, he would have perceived it: And what desire soever my Master had to see Mandana, yet he would never see her with the King of Pontus; so that to excuse himself, Sir (said he unto him) If there need no more to justify you but the sight of her Beauty, you shall be so in my opinion; for I saw her when she came first to Sardis; and the more sad I saw her, the more I accused you: all this would not satisfy the King of Pontus, but he still importuned my Master to go with him unto the Princess.  
Pardon me Orsanus (said Cyrus) if I interrupt you in your Story, to ask you, Whether the King of Pontus did see the Princess Mandana every day? Ever since she came to Sardis (replied he) none had the liberty to see her but himself, but truly he is not at all the more happy; for I have heard one of his servants say, that he never visits her but both his Love and Despair is augmented, for he finds her always more fair, but more rigid every day than other. Cyrus then ask pardon of the two Princesses, Orsanus went on with his Story thus.  
The King of Pontus being very importunate with my Master to go unto Mandana, did press him so far, that the poor Telephanes could find but bad Reasons to excuse himself; but he was forced to leave him, and go into the Citadel without him, and went by a great Walk of Cypress, close by the ditch of that place, and opposite to the Garden door: After Mazares saw him enter, he walked above two hours in that Walk, thinking upon the adventure which had happened: By chance Belesis and I found him there, and he acquainted us with the passage: Afterwards making a stand, and looking earnestly upon us; Must it not needs be confessed (said he unto us, that Fortune is very ingenuous to torment me, since I must be continually both culpable and miserable? For I see, that to do one good act, as to release the Princess whom I took away, is, I must commit a hundred bad ones; I must, I say, dissemble and deceive them that trust me; I must always speak contrary to truth, I must be of one side, and seem to be of the other, and all this to put the person whom I most love and adore into the power of a beloved Rival: For my dear friends (said he unto us) with tears in his eyes) to put Mandana into such a condition as she would be, is certain to deliver her unto Cyrus: This I have promised unto myself, and this I will either do or die.  
Sir, replied Belesis, I do not question but to find out ways how to do the first of those two, for by suborning some of Tegeus his Guard, I can speak with him as oft as I please, and can dispose him to endeavour the utmost of my power that the Citadel may be surprised: He hath given me a Letter unto an old Officer in it, who he saith is very covetous, and who indeed I have found very ready to receive gifts, and by consequence ready to do what I would have him, so I will feed him with gifts. Moreover he told me, that when I had found out ways to release the Princesses, and his dear Celenice, he knew how to escape his prison without trouble to any; for he who commands the Guard over the prisoners of War is so absolutely his, that if he desired it, he could get them all released, except the Prince Artamas, who hath a particular Guard by himself: But why is Tegeus still a prisoner (said my Master) if it be in his power to have his liberty? Because in the condition he is in (replied Belesis) he is not suspected, and he hath a design to find out ways how to release the Princesses, and thereby engage two great Princes, and also to release Celenice for his own satisfaction; so that I perceive it sticks but upon two things, to wit, some men for the execution of his design, which I have promised him, and one to acquaint the Princesses that their liberty is ready for them, and that they would prepare themselves to follow their Releasers; and this is the effect of that Letter which I have unto the old Officer whereof I spoke, that he shall let the Princesses understand how there are preparations for their releasement: But he told me, that this would be difficult for him to do, and that it would be much more easy for him to deliver us a Port, and we to carry them away; then for him to speak unto them: But Belesis, replied Telephanes, Why did you not tell me any thing of your negotiation? Because I I would have the business more ripe, replied he, and had it not been to comfort you a little, I should not have told you so much, because the business cannot be executed so soon. Moreover, a Captain of greatest power in the Citadel, next the Governor, who is an intimate friend unto Tegeus, is not in Sardis, nor will he return this fifteen days. Telephanes perceiving then, that Tegeus was Master of the Guards, that he had very powerful intelligence in the Citadel, that I had gained many of the Soldiers, and that there wanted nothing but a Convoy, and one to acquaint the Princesses, did not think upon any thing, but how to remove these two obstacles. A while after, news being brought to Town that Nysomolis was taken, and that your Army Sir struck a terror into all Lydia, it was requisite that Telephanes, (to keep himself unsuspected, and to preserve that advantageous opinion which they conceived of him) should go into the Wars, and show that he deserved it; he went out therefore with Andramites, and in several small encounters did notably behave himself; yet his mind was, that Belesis and I should stay in Sardis, to keep Tegeus and all those of his correspondency in a disposition to execute the enterprise, when it was ripe, with orders to advertise him speedily of it when the time came, to the end he might find out a pretence for his coming to Sardis. Thus Sir did things stand at Sardis, whilst you were taking Towns; and forcing the Lydian Troops to quit their Quarters.  
But to shorten my discourse as much as I can, upon these terms Sir did the enterprise concerning Mandana's releasement stand, when after you desired combat with the King of Pontus, there was an interview between you and that Prince, when you knew the Prince Mazares amongst the rest which came with him. I doubt not Sir but you desire to know why my Master would come unto that meeting, for I wondered at it myself, but he would give me no other reason, then that since you had met him, and spoke to him in Paphlagonia, yet then knew him not, he thought that certainly you would not know him in Lydia, and therefore he might boldly, without fear of discovery, accompany the King of Pontus, who was very importunate with him, and also might satisfy his desires of being present at an interview, wherein he had a secret interest, which none knew of but himself: For indeed he told me in going to that place, where you and the King of Pontus were to see each other, that sometimes he wished that your persuasions might not prevail with the King of Pontus, concerning Mandana's releasement, but that he himself might have the glory of it: And sometimes again, when he suspected the happy success of his enterprise, he wished the King of Pon us might be moved by your reasons. However it was Sir, the Prince Mazares, (who I will now call Telephanes no longer) did go with the King of Pontus, upon reasons so different and opposite, that he could never reconcile them himself. In the mean while Sir, I beseech you do me the honour to confess, that there is never any true judgement to be given upon appearances; for indeed I know Sir, that when you saw the Buckler whereon my Master represented a dead man, and his Motto, testifying, that he thought himself worthy of it, and knew him who bore it to be the Prince Mazares: Then, I say, you were angry, and hated him, and that you expressed as much by such visible marks, both in your words and actions, as any one might see the thoughts of your heart: Yet Sir, this man whom you thus hated, was then thinking upon nothing else, but how to render the Princess Mandana unto you, and for ever to deprive himself of her, and indeed he answered you with as much moderation as a man of courage possibly could. I shall not need to tell you Sir what his thoughts were upon that occasion, for you may easily imagine them; but give me leave to tell you, that after (by the prudence of Abradates) this dangerous conference was ended, and that every one took the way unto his own Quarter, the King of Pontus knew no more how to behave himself towards Mazares, ●●en Mazares knew what to say unto him. After they had marched forty or fifty paces without a word passing amongst them, Abradates came to my Master with much civility: Generous Prince (said he unto him) I am sorry that I must render you more respect than hitherto I have, for since it was your pleasure to be unknown, I suppose you had rather have still been Telephanes, than the Prince Mazares, since you have made that name so famous, that you cannot leave it off unless you wrong yourself: Sir, replied he, I have been ever so unfortunate under the name of Mazares, that it is no wonder I should desire to leave it off for a time; but for aught I see, the name of Telephanes is not more prosperous unto me.  
All this while the King of Pontus spoke not a word; but calling to memory how Mazares lived at Sardis, and how he refused to go with him unto Mandana, though he importuned him, and considered that he had insinuated himself into the friendship of the Governor in the Citadel, and with all the men of Quality in Court, he thought that he would at last put all these into some design; but not being able to comprehend the mystery, yet being very desirous of further satisfaction, without any further delay he went to the King of Susiana, and the Prince Mazares, and looking upon my Master; I beseech you Sir, said he unto him, though you be my Rival, yet deny me not one favour which I shall ask you, as if you were Telephanes my friend, and my extremely loved friend: Although I am your Rival Sir (replied the Prince Saces) and by consequence Telephanes could never be very much your friend, no more than Mazares could; yet let me tell you, that there are very few things which you are not able to obtain of me: For truly, since you saved the life of the Princess Mandana, whom I most unfortunately caused to perish, your prayers must needs be very prevalent with me, and indeed so they shall be for ever: If so, replied the King of Pontus, tell me what opinion I ought to have of you, for I profess unto you I do not know; when I call to mind all I have seen you do, I know not where I am, and I yet doubt whether you be Telephanes, or the Prince Mazares: Certainly I am the last of these, replied he: If you be, said the King of Pontus, Why do you engage yourself on the side of Croessus? Why did you conceal your name? And what motives had you to act as you have done? Is it for yourself, or for me, that you have fought? It was neither for you nor for myself (replied my Master, with as much subtlety as wit, to disguise the reality of his thoughts) but it was against Cyrus: Yet it does not seem to me, replied the King of Pontus, that you spoke unto him with any such Symptoms of hatred as should induce you to fight in favour of one Rival to ruin another. But tell me ingenuously I beseech you, What ought I to think of your Actions? and how must I consider you? As a man (replied Mazares and sighed) that does not pretend unto the least hopes or aims of ever enjoying Mandana; and I would it were the pleasure of the Gods, that I could inspire you with the same bitter repentance which I have for carrying her away, and causing the greatest parts of all the miseries which have befallen her. How's this Mazares (said the King of Pontus) do not you pretend any thing to Mandana, and yet come disguised unto the place where she is? You fight against the forces of the other side; you engratiate yourself into friendship; you seem to be my friend, and is all this without any pretention? No, no, it is impossible, you can never persuade me to believe it. It is not an easy matter to imagine (said the King of Susiana) what the intention of the Prince Mazares should be: Yet he hath one (replied the King of Pontus) of what nature soever it be. That which doth most trouble me (added he in speaking to Abradates) is, that he hath used all his endeavours and arguments to persuade me to render the Princess Mandana unto Cyrus; and indeed how is it possible (added he, and spoke to my Master) if you yet love her, you should advise me to put her into the power of a Prince adores her, and for whom she scorns all those that love her?  
To testify unto you, said Mazares, that I have no secret interest at all, I shall give you the same counsel now, when you know what I am, and conjure you, with all the faculties of my heart and Soul, to give freedom unto the Princess Mandana: And I will engage my word, that in acknowledgement of your saving her life, and giving her liberty, I will divide the Kingdom which hereafter I shall possess, and give half of it to you, if you cannot reconquer your own. No, no, said the King of Pontus, you wish not what you say; for if you did, I must not look upon you as my Rival, but as my friend. I know not well, replied Mazares, whether I am your Friend or my Rival, my reason is so rafled: but yet I know that I love Mandana more perfectly than you do, since I know how to limit my hopes, and to seek no further than her satisfaction: Did you know how to love so well as I, you would be more sensible than you are of the sufferings which the person beloved endures: But in the name of the God's Sir, let me persuade you to repent as I do, and let not one of your Rivals have that advantage over you: Moreover, I beseech you do not think, that I only say I will not pretend any thing unto the Princess Mandana, out of any fear to make you my Enemy, as valiant as you are; for I care so little for my life, that if I considered none but myself, I would seek such an occasion to die the sooner and more gloriously: but I do really speak as I think; and it is not more true, that you do love the Princess Mandana, than it is true that I pretend nothing unto her, but I wish with all my heart and soul that you would set her at liberty, and put her into the hands of Cyrus, rather than let her continue miserable still. If what you say be true, replied the King of Pontus, of all men living you are the most virtuous, or else the least amorous; and I should much wonder if it should be the last of these; and that a corner passion should cause you to carry away the Princess Mandana, and forget your duties to the King of Assyria. As the greatest Crimes, replied my Master, does cause the greatest repentance; so it is no wonder if since I have committed a double injustice, I should be extremely ashamed. It is true, replied the King of Pontus, but yet it is very much that, one should love, and yet be able to render his Mistress unto a Rival whom she loved, Yet truly (said the King of Sasiana) the Prince Mazares does express himself so emphatically, and with such an a●● as is apparent that his tongue speaks the very thoughts of his heart; and therefore I conjure you both, what ever both your designs are, not to disunite. For my part, said the King of Pontus, if the Prince Mazares will engage his word, that he will never pretend any thing unto the Princess Mandana, and that he has no concealed design to carry her away both from Cyrus and myself, I shall carry myself towards him as if he were not my Rival. Abradates then asked Mazares whether he would engage himself unto such Conditions as the King of Pontus desired? since he himself professed he had no pretensions unto Mandana. Whilst this Prince was speaking thus unto him, Mazares did consult with his mind upon the matter; and finding that if he should promise what was required, yet he did not thereby engage himself unto any thing which was contrary to his design, since his intentions were not to carry away the Princess Mandana for himself, therefore he consented unto those Conditions though with much repugnancy: and I verily believe, that if he had not certainly known the death of the King of Pontus would not have furthered the liberty of Mandana, in lieu of making this promise, he would have decided the controversy by Sword, and fought with this Prince.  
Thus Sir did this conference pass; after which, Abradates acquainting Croessus with my Master's condition when he came to Sardis, and relating all passages as much in my Master's advantage as I could, Croessus had not so many jealousies in his soul as the King of Pontus had, who after did circumspectly observe all my Master's actions, so that we had much ado to hold those intelligencies which formerly we did without discovery. In the mean while, the Prince Mazares had such an extreme abhorrence of all dissimulations, that if Belesis and I had not persuaded him that the glory of an enterprise of this nature, did consist only in the execution, and not in the means by which it was concealed; and that the Conspirators, the more they dissemble in a just cause, the more commendations they deserve: I think, that rather than he would have done as he did to conceal his design, he would have undertaken a more violent resolution. After this Sir, you know how high discontents were grown amongst all the Princes, concerning an exchange of Prince Artamas; and the Queen, before whom I speak; and how Andramites, and the Prince Myrsiles took the King of Susiana's part: But you do not know Sir, how my Master making use of these divisions, did secretly and frequently visit the generous Abradates and Andramites, and so wrought upon their Spirits, as they promifed him, that if matters were further exasperated, they would attempt nothing without him; but yet my Master still kept his design close unto himself. After this Sir, the Truce being published, and the Captain who was friend unto Tegeus, being returned unto the Citadel, my Master did make a show as if he were not well, to the end he might the more conveniently endeavour to speak with Mandana, or at least with Martesia; and we did negotiate the business so happily, that by the assistance of this friend unto Tegeus, who had the Guard of the Chamber where the Princesses did lie, we had permittance to enter into the Citadel in the night, and he promised to help me to the speech of Martesia. As I knew that Martesia had a very friendly opinion of me ever since I was her guide in bringing her to Sinope, so I hoped to effect my business very well; but do what I could, I could not persuade my Master to stay behind, for he thought that I could not so well aggravate his bitter repentance, as himself could do; so that I was forced to submit unto his desires, and I had so ordered the business, that just at nine of the Clock, the friend of Tegeus would let my Master and me enter, undiscovered by any; and so bringing us by a back pair of stairs into his own Chamber, he went unto Mandana's, where finding Martesia, he desired her that she would be pleased to let him have an hours discourse with her; so that Martesia being as complaysant as any judicious person would be unto one, that kept them prisoners, consented; and passing from the Chamber of her Mistress unto her own, which was very near, the Captain came to us, and according to the plot between my Master and myself, I only went unto Martesia, to the end I might the better deceive her, as afterwards I shall tell you; for we known very well, that the Princess Mandana did not think my Master to be alive, or that he was at Sardis, because Croessus and the King of Pontus had given express charge; that no news whatsoever should be carried unto the Princesses, and therefore we feared not that Mandana could know of his being there.  
Then did this Captain conduct me to Martesia's Chamber, and left me there; she no sooner saw me, but she broke out into a hundred expressions of joy and tenderness. Ah Orsanus (said she unto me) Can you not carry me once again to Sinope, and bring the Princess with me? Yes sweet Martesia (said I unto her) that I can, and I came hither purposely to make the Proposition unto you. Alas, replied she, I see so little possibility in it, that I fear they will sooner keep you a prisoner with us, than you can set us at so much liberty; and therefore to consume no time in telling me any pleasing lies, I pray tell me, how the state of things in general does stand? For we know nothing here but what pleaseth the King of Pontus, who will tell us nothing but that he is in Love; therefore pray tell how the illustrious Cyrus does? And where is his Army? Tell me whether Artamas be recovered of his wounds? For the Princess of Lydia is much grieved for him, and if it were not too much to ask you at once, you would do me a pleasure in telling me what is become of poor F●ra 'las? Martesia having put all these questions unto me, I satisfied her curiosity in them all; after which, I assumed the discourse wherewith I began, and assured her confidently, that I knew of an infallible way to release the Princesses, and to put Mandana into the hands of Cyrus; so that she believed there was some truth in my words: But she told me, that as for the Princess Palmis she would never go out of prison, but by the hand of the King her Father, especially since the Prince Artamas would remain a prisoner of War; and lest this should keep the Princess Mandana from going out, I pray tell me (said she unto me) What are the best courses to be taken: First it is requisite, said I unto her, that I have the honour to see the Princess; and secondly, the same honour is desired for him, that is the chief actor in the enterprise, who is now in the Captain's Chamber, who brought me hither, and who desires to receive his orders from her own mouth: There is no difficulty in all this (replied Martesia) provided you will have a little patience, for I believe the Princess of Lydia will leave her presently: But in the interim (said she) I pray tell me who is this generous Liberator? How can he get us out from hence? And when shall it be? For I wish it were this very hour, if it were possible: You shall know the two first of your questions in good time (replied I) and as for getting you out from hence, it shall be within this three days, if the Princess please: If she please (replied she) Ah Orsanus, I warrant you it will please her, since though the King of Pontus be as respective to her as he is unjust, I am confident she would do any thing to get out of his power. In the mean time, said she, that we may the sooner see whether the Princess of Lydia be retired, and the sooner see our Deliverer, I pray you follow me.  
In saying so, she carried me unto a little Closet over against the Princess Chamber, but so near it; and the partitions so full of crannies (for you must know the places of War are not built like Palaces) that any thing might be heard which was spoken. Being then in this place where we could hear all the discourse which passed between the two Princesses, we began to hearken, in hopes they would end their discourse quickly, and presently I heard a voice which was unknown to me, and which Martesia said was the Princess Palmis, who complained extremely against the malignity of her Fortune: For my part, replied the Princess Mandana, I hardly dare complain against mine; for since the conformity which is in our misfortunes did make you love me, and in some sort caused the friendship which is between the Prince Artamas, and the illustrious Cyrus, methinks I ought to endure it patiently: Ah Madam, said the Princess Palmis, I beseech you do not give so bad a foundation unto the affection which I bear you, and seek not for that in the suitableness of our miseries, which cannot be found any where but in your rare merits; and if you please to look a little nearer into things, you will find a notable difference, between the misfortunes of Cyrus, and those of Artamas, and also between yours and mine: Yet in many things they resemble very much, replied Mandana, for as one hath been exposed to many dangers, so hath the other; as one changed his own name for that of Artamenes, the other assumed the name of Cleander in lieu of his own, both of them are brave and gallant, both of them have been Conquerors, both of them in Love, and if there be any difference, it is in that the Prince Artamas loved by reason, and Cyrus only by inclination: Had you changed the name of Artamas for Cyrus, said the Princess Palmis, your discourse had been just: I beseech you let me end it (said the Princess Mandana) and see whether I have not reason to attribute unto the likeness of our miseries, the pity which you have of mine: Besides all that I said before, these two Princes have had the favour and affection of these two Kings whom they served, they have both of them been imprisoned by them, for whom they have hazarded their lives a thousand times; as Croessus was displeased with you because you favoured Cleander; so Ciaxares hated me, because I esteemed Artamenes: Indeed what should I say? Cyrus and Artamas brought us hither; Have they not persecuted you as well as me? And as Adrastus and Artesilias died for you, did not the unfortunate Mazares perish for me? Are we not now both prisoners together? And must it not needs be confessed, that since you cannot love me for any resemblance of those admirable qualities which are in you, and not in me, Heaven has a design to make you love me, because I resemble you in your misfortunes: To show you (replied the Princess Palmis) that the Love I bear you proceeds from nothing but your merits, and not at all from any resemblances of our adventures, I must needs let you see that they are infinitely different; so that in reason it cannot be said they have any resemblance, and by consequence you ought not to believe, that the affection I bear you hath any such cause: The adventures of Cyrus and Artamas are much different; for when Cyrus was only Artamenes, he knew that he was Cyrus, and was not ignorant of his own Quality: whereas on the contrary, the unfortunate Cleander did not so much as know who himself was, but thought himself so far below my Quality, that he did condemn his Love no less than I should if I had then known it: Artamenes had nothing else to make his condition known to be equal unto yours, but only to say he was Cyrus: But Cleander for a long while durst not so much as wish to know who he was, lest his condition should prove disadvantageous unto him if it were known: These false Names under which both of them did pass was given them variously, for Cyrus took the Name of Artamenes upon him to disguise himself; and Artamas not knowing his true Name, received that of Cleander from Thimettes, who gave it him, not thinking he should ever leave it: 'Tis very true, both of them are most gallant men, and both Conquerors, but with a notable difference, since Fortune hath almost confined the Victories of Artamas to the Kingdom of his Father, whilst she hath stretched the Conquests of Cyrus over all Asia. The original of their Passions is also as different as the merit of those two persons who caused them: The Prisons also in which both of them were, are very unlike, and proceeded from several causes: The jealousy and wickedness of Artesilas caused the Imprisonment of Cleander; and the prejudicated opinion of Ciaxares was the cause of Artamenes his Imprisonment; though I must needs confess there was equal injustice in them both. Moreover, the hatred which Ciaxares bore unto Cyrus, proceeded only from a misunderstanding of the Menaces of the Gods; but the King my Father hated Artamas because he thought I loved him, and by consequence the cause of his hatred cannot cease, as the cause of Ciaxares his hatred did. Moreover, you cannot in reason say, there was any equality in their last Imprisonment, since that of Cyrus lasted not above an hour at most, whereas that of Artamas lasts yet, and he was dangerously wounded besides: But I beseech you let us close up all these resemblances which we find in our fortunes in this one, which is, our Imprisonment: Is there not a vast difference between us? for you know there are two hundred thousand men in Arms for your Liberty: That the most valiant Prince upon Earth and the greatest Captain commands this Army, and fights only for you: Moreover, it is just in you to wish him Victory, and to make prayers unto Heaven for it: But as for me, I am not only deprived of all hopes of relief, but of all other consolations, except your friendship Madam, which truly is a great one: For truly I must not desire my Liberty, since it cannot be but by the Conquest of the King my Father, by the loss of his Crown, and by his being a Slave: All which will be, if Cyrus be a Conqueror; and if he be not, than Prince Artamas will perish in Prison, and I die where I am: so that since I cannot desire any thing which would be advantageous to me, I must endure my miseries and never wish for an end. After this I beseech you judge whether I am at all a debtor unto my misfortunes for your affection, but rather for your pity. However it be, replied Mandana, I am confident, that the Gods have a design Prince Artamas shall love and do Cyrus good service, and that Cyrus shall protect and comfort Artamas. After this these two Prisoner Princesses spoke much more unto each other which I could not understand, because Martesia hindered me, and I had much ado to get her let me hear as much as I have related to you, for she was continually ask me questions, unto which I returned short answers, and sometimes only with my head; because, since she named my Master once, I desired to hear whether she would name him any more: But if I did not certainly know, that the Prince Mazares my Master would never pretend any more unto the Princess Mandana, I should not have been so perfidious unto him, as to acquaint the illustrious Cyrus with all those advantageous expressions which she used towards him.  
But to return unto my Discourse, Be pleased to know Madam, that at last the Princess of Lydia left Mandana and went unto her Chamber, which was separated from his only by a withdrawing Room which was commune to them both. She was ●o sooner gone, then knowing there was none with her but Arianita, I went unto my Master to bring him unto Mandana's Chamber; the Captain who let us enter into the Citadel brought us to the door and there left us, to the end he might take more care that none should discover us. As Martesia prepared the Princess to receive a man who would release her, and told her that it was I who would conduct him, she wondered who it should be that would be her Deliverer: And I knew afterwards by Martesia, she did think it no other than the illustrious Cyrus: So that her extraordinary fears, in thinking what dangers he exposed himself unto for her sake, did cool all her joys when she thought upon her hoped-for Releasement. Then Madam, you may easily imagine how infinitely the Princess was amazed, when in lieu of seeing the illustrious Cyrus enter, she saw the Prince Mazares casting himself at her feet, whom she imagined to be dead: She turned hastily towards Martesia, to ask her, whether what she saw was real? and if it was, why she did deceive her? Martesia, who was no less amazed than the Princess, looked upon me with so much Wonder, that she could not ask me why I dissembled with her? In the mean while, my Master, who was upon his knees before the Princess, he began to speak thus unto her: You see here at your feet Madam a man that is risen from the dead; but risen as innocent, as he was culpable before your shipwreck; Therefore I beseech you do not treat me as I deserved when I was so unjust as to carry you away, since I am not the same man now as I was then. I do not beg of you Madam, to let me love and adore you; for I am most fully resolved in the very reality of my heart, never to have any such thought as long as I live: All the whole sum of my Petition is, that you would be pleased to pardon my Crime, and give me leave to lessen it a little, by procuring you that Liberty which I took from you. Ah Mazares, said the Princess, I will not be deluded at Sardis as I was at Sinope, and I have no such thoughts of you at this present as I had at that time. Yet I am now less worthy of your friendship (replied he) then ever I was; for truly Madam, when I was at Babylon, I did nothing but strive against that Passion which you had created in me; and truly though I did resist it with all my force, yet it was far too weak; for I was overcome by this imperious Passion; all the Virtue I had submitted unto it: it expelled all Generosity and Reason out of my Soul; and at Sinope forced me to commit the most unjust act that ever was: I carried you away Madam; I deceived you and carried you away, in telling you that I would deliver you into whose hands soever you pleased: But my divine Princess, I was not long culpable, since my repentance was almost as soon as the Crime was committed; and the Command which I gave unto the Pilot to steer his course towards Sinope, was that which put us in a perishing condition. No, no, Mazares, said the Princess, you can never persuade me to trust you, since you so extremely deceived me: For to let you see how horrid your Crime seems in my eye, I do profess, that, excepting Cyrus, I will not trust any man upon Earth: I esteemed you as much as I could esteem any, and more than that, I loved you as well as I could do my Brother: Then I pray you judge, whether I have not reason to pass from one extremity unto another, since you have so cunningly deceived me, and have caused so many miseries to fall upon me. Truly Mazares, I do admire at the pleasure of the Gods in saving your life, since you have not only been the cause of my miseries, but of all Asia, which had not been up in Arms if you had not carried me away. Cease Madam (replied this sad Prince) cease I beseech you from any further aggravations of my Crime, since I see how great it is; for without the consideration of the miseries of others, I need think upon none but what I have caused unto you: But Madam my repentance is so sharp, that if you did but know the bitterness of it, I believe you would pity me; and though it be not proportionable to the greatness of my Crime, yet I cannot impose a sharper penance upon myself, then that I should myself put you into the hands of Cyrus, that happy Rival, whom the Gods do favour in so high a manner, that his very Rivals themselves are ready to release unto him that Princess whom they love as well as he doth: For this Madam, I have quitted my Desert, unto which I had confined myself: To this end I came into Lydia under a disguised Name; and it is my real resolution to get you out of Prison: And the Gods have so far smiled upon my Project, that if you will Madam, you shall be released from hence, and carried into the Camp of Cyrus.  
As soon as Mazares had spoke these words, he sighed so seriously, and in such earnest manner, as one might see his repentance was real: But yet for all that, the Princess Mandana could not believe it; yet sometimes the feeling expressions of this sorrowful Prince would something stagger her thoughts, but then immediately after, diffidence would wholly seize upon her heart, and she could not possibly believe, that the design of Prince Mazares was really to set her at liberty: She perceived he had a great and powerful intelligence in the Citadel, and she was well enough persuaded, that he who could so cunningly come in, could as well get out: But her belief told her at the same time, that his end was to carry her away the second time, and not really to release her, so that all his persuasive arguments could not move her, but she resolutely told him, she had rather stay where she was a prisoner still, then to be fooled in following him: Alas Madam (said he unto her) Will you not believe me when I protest repentance, and to explate my crime, would set you at liberty? I must ingenuously confess, that I have not power to say I do not love: And Madam, I am resolved not to make a mixture of any lies and truths together, but I do most solemnly protest in the presence of those Gods which must make all my projects prosperous, that this passion is without the least spark of any hope, or any pretention unto you in the world: I desire no more but a pardon of my crime, and to set you at liberty, if it be obtained, I shall not murmur at my death: It is but just that this tormenting passion be still in my soul, as a more severe penance for my fault, and so be pleased to look upon it, and questionless you will allow it, especially considering that I sue for no other recompense: However, be not so preposterously resolute as to believe me, when I told a prejudicial lie, and not to believe me when I tell you a most real truth, which shall set you at liberty: No, no, Mazares, said the Princess, neither you nor any else shall deceive me twice; I trusted you before, because I thought you incapable of deceiving me, but since you have deceived me once, I will never trust you again: Do not think Madam, replied he, that it is now possible I should have any ill design upon you: How if I had any such? How could I put it into act? 'Tis true, I can get you out of prison, because the Camp of Cyrus is near, and a safe place of retreat: But should I have any design to carry you for any ends of my own, how is it possible I should effect it? Sardis would be no safety to hide you in it, all the Country is full of Forces belonging unto Cyrus, what therefore could I do with you? I know not, said she, neither where Cyrus is, or what course you would take, but I know very well I cannot trust you: Why Madam, said he unto her, Will you refuse your liberty, because it is offered by a Prince whom you do not love? The reason why I love him not (replied she) is because I do not believe he has any intention to release me, and designs no further then to make me change my Chains; and truly I had rather (since I think you only intent to remove me from prison to prison) be with the Princess of Lydia, then with you. To make it apparent Madam, said he, That I have no ends of my own in it, be pleased to know, that my design is not only to release you, but the Princess Palmis also, and that it is by a devoted servant unto a Woman of hers that I have this intelligence in this Citadel; and therefore Madam you need not doubt the sincerity of my intentions: I doubt all, replied she, For I had rather suspect your words, then that they should deceive me again: But Orsanus; (said she, and turned towards me) I did not think it possible that you should second your Master in such a piece of service as this, and I have always known so much virtue in your mind, that I rather will think he deludes you, then that you have any intentions to delude me, as he hath: Madam, replied I, give me leave to assure you, that the Prince Mazares hath no intentions to deceive you.  
Alas Orsanus (said she) it seems you are not so wise as I am, if you think so: Truly Madam (said Martesia, speaking to the Princess) Since Orsanus says it, methinks credit aught to be given to his words, because he is not in Love, and by consequence more to be believed then the Prince Mazares: To testify unto you Madam (said my Master speaking to Mandana) I will remain in your prison after you are gone out, and an illustrious friend, who I met with in my solitude, shall conduct you to the most happy Cyrus, whilst I stay here, and patiently endure the death which Croessus shall give me, and I promise you to accept it with much joy, so you will promise me a favourable memory: And I will do more than that also if you please (said he, being transported with the violence of his Love and despair, to see she would not believe him) for I will kill myself before you go out of that prison which I will open unto you: If I could believe what you speak, (replied the Princess) I should tell you, that your death in that manner would extremely trouble me, but in truth I cannot believe you: However, I beseech you acknowledge thus much at the least, that if hereafter you once believe me, you will then lessen your hatred towards me: I shall do more than that, said she, For if ever I once believe you, I shall be able to forget what's past, and to pardon you, and I think liberty so sweet, and your act so generous, that I should afford you my esteem and friendship: But the worst is, I neither do nor can trust you; and looking upon you as a Prince, who would deceive me once more, I look upon you with anger and hatred. Was ever misery comparable to mine? (cried he out) You tell that you would pardon me, and afford me your friendship, if what I speak were true; and yet you are so unjust, as to look upon me with anger and hatred, though truth itself is not truer, then that I would release you: I beseech you tell me what I should do to persuade you of this truth, and to lay open my heart unto you: I know not, replied she, but I am sure I cannot believe what you say; therefore go and move those that let you in, to let you out presently, and content yourself that I am so generous as not to ruin you, by advertising the Guards who I am sure you have not corrupted, that you are here: Do not think that the reason why I do it not, is because I make any doubts whether what you say be true or false; but my reason is, because I am not cruel, and because your first services were so considerable, that I will not be the cause of your death: For Heaven's sake Madam (said he unto her) do not drive me to despair, but believe me: For Heaven's sake, replied she, trouble me no more, but leave me in quietness: I beseech you dear Martesia (said this Prince) persuade your illustrious Mistress to credit my words: Sir (replied the wise Lady) I profess unto you, that for my part I do believe you, but truly I dare not advise the Princess to do so, because it is not fitting for me to give her counsel in any thing: What shall I do then? replied he, Or indeed what can I do but die? For since I quitted my solitary life only to deliver you (said he to Mandana) and so to obtain my pardon, and am not able to obtain either, I will never look for any thing but death, and I will seek for it upon all occasions in all places, where there is any possibility of finding it: Indeed Madam, since you cannot endure me, neither as your Lover, nor as your friend, nor I am able to make you believe my repentance, I must and will find out such dangers, as shall certainly rid you for ever from the sight of that Prince whom you hate, and from whose hand you will not receive your liberty.  
The Princess hearing my Master speak so violently, did believe this peril and danger whereof he spoke, was, that he would fight with the illustrious Cyrus; so that she expressed some fears that he would make some attempts against this Prince: He no sooner understood her meaning, but not giving her time to express her thoughts: I understand you Madam, said he unto her, I understand you very well: You would have Cyrus have the advantage of me, because you would not have me fight with him: But never fear Madam, that I will ever entertain any such thoughts against him, I owe more respect unto you then so, and I am so obliged unto that Prince, as I cannot do it with honour: Therefore Madam if it be my fortune to die by the hand of illustrious Cyrus, he must seek me out, and kill me without any defending of myself, which I know is infinitely below him. These Madam are the thoughts of him, whom you think would deceive you: And I beseech you believe, that when I meet Cyrus, I shall beg my death from his hand as a recompense for that service which I would have done you, as the only remedy against all thoseevils which I endure: And when all this is done Madam, will you hate Mazares both alive and dead? Whilst this Prince was speaking thus, the Princess looked seriously upon him; and sometimes I was in hope his persuasions had wrought upon her, but yet they did not; yet notwithstanding she used such sweet expressions to him after he had declared himself concerning Cyrus, that if the conference had lasted a little longer, I know not whether this virtuous Princess had not been overcome. But the Captain who let us enter, coming to tell us that it was full time to go out of the Citadel, a necessity compelled us to retire, without any further persuasions upon the Princess Mandana, and with deep sorrows, that so great an enterprise so near execution should be uneffected: And when my Master came to his own Lodging, and related the story unto Belesis, I could not choose but admire at the greatness of his Passion by the horror of his despair: Death and nothing else was his thoughts; he could not imagine why he should or how he could live: so that Belesis and I had much ado to moderate the fury which he conceived against himself.  
My greatest admiration was, that the sight of Mandana should more augment his repentance, and confirm him in his generous design: The Guards upon the Princess; her Lodgings, and a thousand other circumstances, which he observed at his entrance and coming out of the Citadel, though it was very dark, were so many additions to his sorrows: 'Tis I, would he say, only I, that am the fatal cause of her Imprisonment; that she meets with all these horrid objects, and that she enjoys not a minute's rest; and she hath rightly proportioned her hatred, according to those miseries which I have caused upon her; for I think it is impossible to be hated more than she does me; if she did not, she would never choose an Imprisonment under a Prince who hath a potent Army to oppose Cyrus, rather than hazard herself upon that danger which she fears: Certainly she hates me more than she doth the King of Pontus; for if she did not, though I should carry her away the second time, yet it were a easier matter for Cyrus to force her out of my hands, then from two Princes who have all Asia engaged in their Interests: But questionless it is the Will of the Gods, that she will not only not love me, but infinitely hate me: Yet for all this, I understand, or think I understand (for my Reason is so ravelled, that I dare not credit my own intellectuals) that if Mandana could believe me really penitent, she would then esteem me, and be my real friend: For Heaven's sake (said he) go to Martesia once more, and solicit her to do more than I myself can: Bid her persuade her incomparable Mistress, not to refuse her Liberty, and let her contrive what security I shall give her, that my only end is her Releasement: The matter requires haste; for if our enterprise be not executed while the Treaty lasts, it will never be effected, since if it do break off, I must go into the Army, and consequently cannot stay here unless suspected: The counterfeiting myself to be not well at this time, that I may have more liberty to negotiate the business, does already begin to perplex the King of Pontus; therefore dear Orsanus, try once more what may be done, that our enterprise may not be frustrate. You may imagine, that I was not able to deny such a request unto a Prince who had so much prevalency with me, and who required nothing that was unjust: But for a more colourable pretence of the business, I took the Letter which Belesis was to deliver unto Celenise, and intended to desire Martesia to deliver it unto her: so that foliciting the Captain who was of our Intelligence, he permitted me the next night to enter into the Citadel, and helped me to the speech of Martesia, unto whom I used my best arguments, that she would let the Princess know how much she did prejudice herself in refusing her Liberty: and indeed I was so importunate with her, that I am confident she believed me: but as for the Princess, she told me, that she was very mistrustful still. Afterwards, when I told her I had a Letter for Celenise, she replied upon me, that it would be to no purpose, because the Princess Palmis would certainly never go out of Prison but by the hand of her Father; and that Celenise would never leave her Mistress; yet I beseeched her to send for her, to the end I might give her Tegeus his Letter, which Martesia did. When she came, she told me with fears in her eyes, that she was much beholding unto Tegeus, but she could not persuade her Mistress to go out of the Citadel, nor could she possibly leave her. When I found that the assistance of these two Ladies, Martesia and Celenise, were ineffectual: I was so urgent with Martesia to let me speak unto the Princess Mandana once more, that at last she permitted me; and I followed her into her Chamber, after she had asked leave, and assured her Mazares was not there: But all my Rhetorical Reasons were not able to raise one grain of credit unto what I desired she should believe; all that I could possibly obtain from her, was, that I brought her to make a doubt upon the matter, which she never did till this last time: yet since she would not hazard her going out upon doubtful terms, it did not alter her resolution. Madam (said I then unto her) suppose that what I say be true, were it not a piece of Injustice in you not to accept of his intentions to repair the fault which he hath committed? For my part Madam, methinks it is not suitable to your usual goodness; for what would you have my Master do? I know his very thoughts; and do assure you, his coming unto Croessus was only with a design of releasing you; and that his only aims in fight for him, was only to set you at Liberty: But you Madam will not accept of that Liberty which he offers you, he will not stay any longer on that side which is not yours, nor dare he go on to the side of Cyrus unless he carry you with him: What then Madam should he do? I beseech you suffer not so great a Prince to perish, as questionless he will, unless you afford him some hopes of being justified in your opinion, and believe that his Virtue transcends his Love, and his Repentance his Crime. Truly Madam, I am in more than half a mind to tell you, that I will never go from this place, until my humble prayers have obtained what I desire in my Master's behalf. Orsanus, said she unto me, your expressions do both trouble and affright me; for how can I think you speak sincerely? and yet how can I think you can deceive me? and how can I ever imagine that a Prince who was so unjust as to carry me away, should afterwards be so generous as to repair his faults? yet to speak sincerely unto you, I begin to think it not impossible: But my greatest difficulty is, that I cannot credit the Prince Mazares: I perceive there is a way to get out of prison, but all persuasions cannot move me to follow it: and the truth is, the act of the Prince Mazares, and the act of the King of Pontus, makes me to suspect every thing, and dares not trust any thing; therefore I pray you importune me no more unto a thing which I cannot do. What then will become of my Master (said I unto her) if you be not pleased to show him a way how he may manifest it unto you, that his real intentions are to release you? I beseech you Madam, think upon it, and procure not unto yourself hereafter the name of a murderer of the most virtuous Princess upon Earth. To show you Orsanus, said she unto me, that I will not deny you every thing, but that I should be glad the Prince Mazares had some opportunities to express some convincing testimonies of his real penitency, and an infallible way to recover my esteem and friendship, tell him, that I would have him go and fight for my Liberty in fight for Cyrus, which if he do, I shall then believe that his real intention was to release me. But Madam, said I unto her, Cyrus perhaps will not give my Master any good entertainment. Questionless he will receive him as his friend, replied Mandana, if he be persuaded that his design was to release me. To make a better way for his acceptance, I will write a Letter unto Cyrus, which Mazares shall give him, which shall testify how I esteem him if he become as virtuous as formerly he was. Then did I accept of her offer; not only because I had a great desire my Master should be out of Sardis, lest our plot should be discovered by Croessus or the King of Pontus; but also because I conceived it would be an infinite advantage unto my Master if he were once the friend of the illustrious Cyrus. In conclusion Madam, this great Princess did write her Letter unto Cyrus, and told me in good earnest, that if Mazares took this course, she would think his aims were honest, and she would let him have her esteem and friendship; so that in this assurance I left her: yet I did attempt a little further in my Master's behalf: but do what Martesia and I could, this was all we could obtain. After this, I went unto my Master, who expected me with great impatience, though he had no hopes in the world of my effecting any thing; and truly it was happy his hope was so low, for it induced him to accept of this Proposition which the Princess made with better resentments: and when I assured him that if he took this course, the Princess would then freely pardon him, and remit him into her esteem, he could not choose but rejoice: yet was he sorry to see he could not obtain any thing from the Princess but by turning on the other side without any colourable pretence: and he made a dolour, whether or no he should deliver this Letter unto Cyrus; but after a strong contest of two hours with his own heart, his Virtue did at last overcome his Passion: and after all this time of contemplate on with himself, he returned unto Belesis, and me with much melanlancholy in his face, but yet with more tranquillity in his eyes, than we had seen of many days. Well my friends (said he unto us) my Passion hath submitted; I have got the Victory, and since I cannot release my Princess, I am resolved to do whatsoever she commands me: But since I am a Delinquent to the King of Assyria, as well as unto the Princess, and desire to expiate that crime as well as the other, I wish we could by the means of Tegeus, and the rest of our friends release him.  
As he was speaking this, Andramites came unto him, and said that things were all in a mighty confusion, that Croessus and Abradates were quite out, and that Abradates and the King of Pontus were declared enemies, that all the Princes and people also began to side, that one whose name was Araspes, and who had formerly quitted the party of the illustrious Cyrus, and came unto the King of Lydia, did most cunningly foment these divisions; that according to his promise he came to tell him, how the King of Susiana (knowing Croessus sought for nothing but a pretence to break off the Treaty, concerning the exchange of Prince Artamas for you Madam) was resolved to quit his side: And moreover (said Andramites) I am sure for my part that I shall be clapped up in prison, so that I am absolutely resolved to follow your fortunes, which will be, (and the best course) to go unto the party of Cyrus: Nor am I to be blamed, if for the security of my person, and releasement of my Mistress, I go and take side with the Enemy. The Prince Mazares hearing Andramites speak thus, was very glad of it, because he saw a convenient way for his revolt, and that it would be much more easy for him to get out of the Camp of Croessus with others, then if he went to Cyrus by himself, for the King of Pontus did keep many vigilant eyes upon him, as long as he was at Sardis. After than he had lent an attentive ear unto all that Andramites told him, who did aggravate the injustice of Croessus with as much zeal as possibly could be in a man, who longed to be with his fair Doralisa, he told him, that all his interests should ever be his, and that he would do whatsoever pleased him: Yet (said he unto him) If we could devise a way to release the prisoners, we should be more acceptable to Cyrus, and I have a most infallible way to effect it, if you will leave the whole matter unto me: In conclusion Madam, Andramites consented unto all my Master's desires; and Belesis and myself did so negotiate with Tegeus, that the business was ready for execution the next day following: But we could not possibly devise which way to release the Prince Artamas, because he had a particular Guard over him, with whom those of Tegeus had no acquaintance; and the reason why he was more strictly guarded then the rest, was, because he had a hundred thousand friends in Lydia: So that the same which was his happiness, turned at this time to his misery. And thus we were contented to endeavour only the liberty of the King of Assyria, of Sosicles, of Tegeus, of Feraulas, and of the stranger Anaxaris: Since he who commanded the Guard over them was an intimate friend unto Tegeus (though Croessus was ignorant of it) there was no great difficulty in the business; therefore about two hours before day, the Prince Mazares, Belesis, some other of their friends and myself, went unto the Captain who stayed for us, and as it was agreed amongst us, he carried us unto the King of Assyria's Chamber, who waking at the noise which we made at our entrance, was extremely amazed to see, (by the help of a great Candle which hung in the middle of the Room) that it was the Prince Mazares (whom he thought dead) which approached towards him. This Prince being naturally of a violent temper, knew not well whether he was awake, or dreamt, or whether it was a man or a Ghost: But he raised himself upon his Bed, and drawing the Curtain which was of T●rian Purple; What do I see (said he in a furious and loud tone) Did you come from the shadows of death to pronounce the end of my life? Or are you yet amongst the living, that I may punish you for your Treason against me? Sir (replied the Prince my Master without any turbulence) you shall know from whence I came when you are out of your prison, from whence I came to release you, that I may thereby make some satisfaction for the wrong which I have done you: How Mazares (replied he) Must I be beholding unto you for my liberty? You must Sir (replied my Master) But I beseech you make haste and follow us: No, no, (replied that violent Prince) I will never owe my liberty to that man, who took Mandana from me: When I have released you (replied Mazares) I shall never think you beholding to me for it, since in giving you liberty, I have given you nothing but what I took away from you: Yet if you will help the illustrious Cyrus to release Mandana, you must accept of that liberty which I offer you, and accept of it presently, for time is precious. Ah Mazares, said the King of Assyria, Have you found out way to release me? Yet if I do accept of it, I will not promise you to forget what's past, because than I should forget Mandana and myself both: All that I will say is, That I will use all the faculties in my power that my friends, my Rivals, and my Enemies shall not exceed me in generosity; and therefore it may be supposed, that I am not less generous than you are, and that I shall be Master of my own thoughts: However Sir (replied the Prince Mazares) I beseech you make all the haste you can: Then the King of Assyria's Guards, who were all of our intelligence, helped to dress him: Then Mazares offering him a Sword with the same respect he used to him when he was in Babylon: Here Sir (said he unto him) take that, and punish Mazares with it when you have released Mandana, if you think yourself not satisfied: Oh, I wish to the Gods (replied the King of Assyria, in accepting the Sword very civilly) that we could release that Divine Princess whom we have made so miserable, and against whom both you and I have been so culpable and unfortunate.  
After this, striving with himself, be cooled his fury and anger, and thinking Andramites, whom he known to be the same which guarded the Princess, and brought him to Sardis, he followed Mazares and him, or to say better, we all followed Tegeus and the Captain, who guarded the prisoners, who by a back pair of stairs did let us out so secretly, that those Soldiers who were not of the Guard never perceived us. After this we met with no rub in the business, because Andramites, who was Lieutenant-general of Croessus his Army, had caused a Captain, who was his creature, to guard a Gate of the Town, towards Abradates his Quarter, whether we intended to go, and as we did, without any obstacle at all. As soon as we came unto the Tent of Abradates, we advised upon our best course, and it was resolved Sir (said Orsanus, addressing his speech to Cyrus) that to prevent all danger, these Princes should not yet come into your Camp, because the day began to break, and because the Brother of Andramites, who kept the pass over the River Halis, would not have been to order things so suddenly to let us pass. Also since the Quarter of Abradates was in a very advantageous Trench, he did not fear that Croessus would fall upon him. Moreover it was imagined, that Croessus could not so soon recover his astonishment, into which the departure of the Prince of Clasomena, and the escape of the King of Assyria had put him: And in the mean time, lest you Sir should be too much alarmed, and that you might give order that the Forces of Abradates might pass with less difficulty, I obtained leave Sir to come and acquaint you, that your Army was to be strengthened with three of the most valiant Princes upon earth, with many other men of Quality, and with four thousand of the best Soldiers in all the Army of Croessus. Feraulas did think to have the honour of this employment from me; but since he was not able to make so perfect a relation of all things unto you Sir, as I could, therefore I opposed his design: He will not long be deprived of the honour of seeing you Sir, for the King of Susiana resolves to disengage this evening, as soon as it is dark, to pass over the river Halis before day, and to be with you at Sun-rise.  
This Sir is the substance of what I have to tell you, most humbly beseeching you to believe, that I have truly related the generous alteration that is in my Master's mind; and therefore I conjure you to look upon him as your friend, and not as your Rival: But since my prayers are too inconsiderable to obtain my desires, I most humbly beseech these two great Princesses to intercede for me, making no question, but they are able to obtain them for me.  
Orsanus having ended his Speech, Panthea and Araminta did second his desires, and entreated Cyrus to bury all past passages in the pit of Oblivion, and not to doubt of the Prince Mazares his repentance. Cyrus would not let them go on: I beseech you, said he unto them, Do not take from me the glory of vanquishing myself, and let not Mazares be a debtor unto your generosity, for that which he expects from mine: Though I must confess it is no small difficulty to admit a Rival for a friend, and such a Rival especially as carried away the Princess Mandana; and therefore by virtue may be beholding unto such examples as yourselves: But since the Prince Mazares is not now my Rival, and can become my friend, I shall easily admit him so, and by his example, shall perhaps become as generous in forgetting the wrongs he hath done Mandana, as he hath been in his repentance: But Madam (said Cyrus, and spoke unto Panthea) doubtless it is to you I am a debtor for these great Auxiliaries which the valiant Abradates brings, since he would never have so sharply resented the injustice of Croessus, but for the love which he bears unto you: I would it were as you say Sir (replied she) for I should be glad that I were able to pay any part of that debt which I owe you: I would it were the will of the Gods (replied the Princess Araminta) That I had the same advantage you have, and that the King my Brother would be moved unto repentance by the excellent example of the Prince Mazares: However it be Madam (said Cyrus unto this Princess) I beseech you do not let it trouble you to see the Forces of Croessus weakened; and mine strengthened, since I will engage my word, that the sooner I am Conqueror, the sooner shall the misfortunes of your house end. In the mean time, since it is requisite some orders should be given for the reception of those who are coming to help us to conquer, I beseech you give me leave to depart from you.  
After this, Cyrus retired, leaving the heart of Panthea full of joy, and carrying Orsanus with him, of whom he asked a thousand questions, in returning to his Quarter.  
As soon as he come there, he made choice of some Troops which he would send to receive Abradates, and the rest, with whom Orsanus returned, to assure his Master that Cyrus would protect him. After this, Cyrus ordered all things himself, even to the very lodgings of the King of Susiana, of Mazares, of Andramites; of the rest of any quality who came with them, and of all the rest of the Regiments which they brought, for he would not fail in the least circumstance of what was fitting: In retarning to his Tent, he met Aglatidas and Ligdamis, and carried them with him to acquaint them (as men of tender and passionate souls) with what had happened: Do you not admire (said he unto them, after he had related the substance of what Orsanus told him) at the odness of my fantastical fate, which always differs from all other destinies in the world? Do you not see how I have found a Rival whom I cannot look upon as an Enemy, nor hate, unless I go against the Law of generosity, but I must admit him into the degree of a friend, and protect him in my Army, who perhaps will help me to release Mandana, that he may carry her away the second time? Not but that I do believe all Orsanus told me, whose honesty I cannot suspect; yet for all that, I have much ado to understand how it is possible one should love, and never pretend to be loved again. If you had offended as Mazares hath (replied Aglatidas) as amorous as you are, I believe you would think it enough if you were pardoned, and be contented with it: I think so too, said Cyrus, But I think also, that as soon as I was pardoned, I should desire something further, for the very Nature of Love is to desire it; and it must necessarily be concluded, that if Mazares desire no more, he is not in Love: However, I know it is impossible to leave loving Mandana, and therefore I am certain Mazares will be my Rival for ever: Yet it appears plainly (replied Ligdamis) that generosity hath at this present a great power upon the heart of this Prince, otherwise he would never have released the King of Assyria, who is his Rival as well as you are: What would you have me say, said Cyrus, but that all accidents unto me are so full of wonder, that they deprive me of my reason. After this, Cyrus was very sorry that Mandana would not let Mazares release her: and immediately after he would be very glad of it that he had not, thinking it a shame any should release her but himself: yet however he was very unquiet in his thoughts, but his unquietness lasted not long, for the constancy which he found in Mandana's mind did dissipate all manner of other fears or doubts or perplexities. 'Tis true, he had many causes of vexation otherwise; yet he found his Party so considerably strengthened, that his hopes of Victory did sweeten every thing else; so that he passed away the rest of the night with Aglatidas and Ligdamis in much serenity of mind: Yet he slept very little that night, as well because the sight of Mazares would trouble him, as in expectation of his new addition of Forces. He was no sooner advertised by his Spies which he had purposely set, that Abradates had passed over the River Halis with his Troops; but he took horse, after he had sent to acquaint the Kings of Phrigia and Hyrcania, and other Princes of his Army: so that in a very short time having abundance with him, he went to meet these Princes some thirty furlongs from his Camp. He was no sooner come on to a little rising ground, but he saw the Troops of Abradates appear, and those which he had sent out meet with them; so that marching forward with about five hundred Horses only, he met Abradates and his Rival: When these two Bodies were so near, that the first Ranks might know each other, the King of Assyria, Abradates and Mazares (out of the respect which they owed unto Cyrus as their ancient Conqueror, and as now to be their Protector) did leave their main Body, and advanced towards him: Cyrus no sooner saw their action, but he did the same, both sides alighting from their Horses at the same time some twenty paces from each other. Abradates, as it was agreed between the King of Assyria, Mazares and himself, did advance the first, and presented the rest unto Cyrus. Sir, said he unto him, If I had come alone unto you, I should have feared my reception; but since I bring with me two such valiant Princes, and so many gallant men which follow them, I dare hope you will not deny us protection, especially when you consider, that I have brought a Prince, who would have brought the Princess Mandana to you, if she would have given credit to him, and who would have brought the Prince Artamas also if it had been possible. Upon his saying so, the King of Assyria and Mazares saluted Cyrus: the first of these with a kind of angry civility, and the other with a most melancholy respect: Cyrus returned these salutes very civilly, though with more coldness than he resolved; yet he spoke unto them with incomparable generosity as soon as he had overcome his natural repugnancy to embrace his Rivals and the Ravishers of Mandana; and as soon as this averse Ceremony was over, I make no doubt at all of Victory now (said he unto them) nor can Fortune as powerful as she is prevent the Releasement of Mandana. You may see by this Sir (said Mazares unto him, and gave him Mandana's Letter) that the adored Princess you speak of might have been out of Prison had she pleased, and that I did my best to obtain my pardon. Cyrus then taking Mandana's Letter from the hand of his Rival with as great an agitation of spirit as Mazares had in giving it, he opened it, and after a civil Compliment unto the Princess, he read these words.  
MANDANA to the Invincible CYRUS.  
IF the Prince Mazares be so generous as to give you this Letter, and will fight for you, then receive him as if he had released me, since it was long only of myself, that I was not released by him; Render therefore unto his Virtue that which I have refused him; and be assured he will merit your friendship if is be true that his repentance be real: Therefore without any remembrance of his carrying me away from Sinope, think how he protected me at Babylon, and would have released me out of Sardis: Live therefore with him as if he were always your Friend, and as if he had never been your Rival; And be assured that you will sensibly oblige her who is the most just and most acknowledging person in the world. Adieu; Extract out of the last words in this Letter all the consolation that she can give you, whose Name is with a true Epithet, Unfortunate  
MANDANA.  
Whilst Cyrus was reading this Letter, the King of Assyria's mind was full of unimaginable torment; and speaking unto Mazares in a low voice, You are a happy man (said he unto him) that can with such a calm and moderate Passion give Mandana's Letter unto your Rival. I do not think myself to be in any condition of envy (replied Mazares sadly) and I believe you would think so as well as I, if you did but know my heart. As they were thus talking together, Cyrus having read this Letter which infused much calmness into his spirit, he looked upon Mazares with much mildness; and assured him most obligingly and generously both, that he would esteem him as the Releaser of Mandana, and never remember his act at Sinope: So that Mazares, maugre the Passion of his Soul, was ravished with admiration as well as the King of Susiana. But since the King of Assyria did impatiently resent this discourse, Cyrus did end it very handsomely: And Abradates did present Andramite: unto him; Also Mazares presented Belesis, telling him, that this his illustrious Friend could well testify his Repentance: Also Anaxaris, Sosicles, Tegeus, and Feraulas coming up towards him, Cyrus embraced them with much joy, especially the last of these: After which, taking horse, he rid towards the Camp; where Cyrus was no sooner arrived, but according to the Orders which he had given, a Council of War was held in his Tent, to consult whether the Truce should still be observed, or whether this accident ought to move them to break it off: Mazares gave there his voice as freely the first day, as if he had been an ancient Friend of Cyrus: The question was a while in doubt: some gave their votes to break off the Treaty, and take advantage of the disorder in the Army of Croessus; and others affirmed that it did not suit with the glory of Cyrus to do so: Those who were of this opinion, said, that this which happened was an advantage which could not be attributed unto Cyrus, since he had yet done nothing but receive his Prisoners, and give retreat unto an ill treated Prince, and unto some other Malcontents of Quality; that therefore patience was to be used, since the Truce would not last above three days. In conclusion, the business being well debated, how great a desire soever Cyrus had to fight, especially having now got the Pass over the River Halis free by the means of Andramites his Brother, yet notwithstanding he would never violate the Laws of War: So that this being the Result of the Council, all the Princes retired unto their Tents which were prepared for them, except Abradates, whom Cyrus did wait upon unto a little Town where his dear Panthea lodged, giving Orders unto Artabases to withdraw, to the end there might be no sign of any Captivity. Cyrus would have Andramites also to follow Abradates, that he might have a sight of Doralisa, thinking the Gods would one day reward him for having commiseration upon unfortunate Lovers like himself; and for his care in sweetening the bitter Pills of their miseries, though he saw no remedy for his own.   
The End of the second Book in the fifth Part.   

ARTAMENES, OR The Grand CYRUS. The Fifth Part. BOOK. III.  
AFter Cyrus had done every thing, that the dignity of his Place; expediency of affairs; Civility; generosity, and tenderness of soul could exact from him in such a Juncture of accidents, he had a great desire to talk in private with his beloved confident Feraulus concerning Mandana, for he understood by the relation of Orsanus that he saw her walk upon the top of the Tower where she was kept Prisoner: so that Commanding him to be called for, he welcomed him with as much tenderness as an Amorous Prince could possibly express unto the only Confident of his passion, and unto such a confident as had done him many extraordinary services, and given him much comfort in his miseries. He talked with him above two hours, and could not get any thing out of him concerning his Princess; for Feraulus had seen Mandana at such a distance, that he could not draw any satisfaction from any thing he could tell him. But Love hath such a quality, that those who are Captivated by it, cannot discourse of any thing but what concerns the Person Loved. Therefore, though Cyrus had spoke as much as could be thought upon of the Last accidents of his Life, yet he repeated all the first also with as much earnestness, as if they were yet to fall upon him. 'tis very true that at that time there was no need of far fetched things to help out discourse: for the King of Assyria's return, and the Arrival of Mazares, was subject enough: Moreover, Mandanas' Letter was enough to talk on for him; since he thought it was a Piece of great difficulty to endure, that the Princess should write so obligingly in behalf of Mazares. But yet the last words of her letter, did make amends for all the rest: and when he considered how she allowed him to explain her words in the most favourable sense for himself, the Joys of his soul were easier to be imagined then expressed: Oh my divine Princess, would he say, will you permit me to interpret your words unto my own advantage? Do you know, most excellent Princess, how far a Lover may flatter himself; and do you not fear that I will make your words speak more than ever you intended? when you say that you are just, & full of acknowledgement, do you not think to shut justice & acknowledgement within such narrow limits, that you cannot understand what I have done to release you? No, no, divine Mandana, this is not the gloss which I will put upon your words; Never reckon, I beseech you, upon the combats which I have fought, Nor the Towns which I have taken; nor the Battles which I have won, but I beseech you reckon, my violent and respected passion for something if you please. It is for that only, for which I desire you should be obliged unto me, and do me justice in: never make any account of the dangers which I have run into, nor of the wounds which I received, but I most humbly beseech you to set a value upon my sighs which I have oft sent out of a sad soul; and upon my tears which I have shed since first I began to love you: and I beseech you (said he, as if she were present to understand him) Let the raptures of my love, make me put such a favourable interpretation upon what you have writ, as may make me believe, that when you say you will be just, you mean by it, you will love me, as well as I love you, but alas, what do I say? were it not injustice to wish Mandana should love me as well as I love her? yes doubtless, it were; and therefore let us call that grace which we have very improperly Called Justice. For my part Sr. (said Feraulus and interpreted him) I do not think the Princess Mandana will do as you desire she should; for your victories are as great signs of your love as your sighs and tears are: and therefore if she join all these together, as I make no question but she will, I am persuaded she will one day love you as well as you do her: Ah Feraulus, said he, how far is that day off? and how many things have I to do before I can be so happy: A battle must be fought and won, afterwards a considerable siege will continue: and after that, I must fight with the King of Assyria. These Feraulus are but the least of difficulties that I am to meet with, before I must come and cast myself at the feet of Mandana, and beg so much favour as to be loved. Judge then whether I have not more cause of fears than hopes, especially after so many ominous Oracles. Whilst Cyrus was thus entertaining himself; the thoughts of his Rivals were no smother than his: Belesis and Orsamus did Cheer up the Prince Mazares, as much as they could, and commending the generosity of his resolution, did endeavour to confirm him in his repentance: They had also so much Courtship as to flatter his passion though they would not cure it; and therefore they told him, that Mandana would infallibly give him her friendship and esteem, if he continued his course as he had begun: were I so happy as to obtain that (said he) I should never desire more: and certainly I shall endeavour my utmost for it: But if I cannot obtain that happiness, than I know my course, which is to return unto my Desert again, and there hide my sufferings, and sigh out sorrows till I die. No, no, Sr. replied Belesis, 'Twill never come to that, for Mandana will restore you to her former esteem, and your virtue shall for ever be mistress of your passion. It is therefore I that must return into my solitude, I who can never hope for any thing. The hopes I have, replied Mazares, are of such a shallow nature that they can never afford me any sweetness; because they are such only as my reason adviseth my will unto, and not such as my heart doth really wish for: and since (Belesis) felicity doth chiefly consist in the satisfaction of desires, I am certain to be the most miserable man alive; since I must never enjoy mine: yet I beseech you do not think I speak this, as if I did repent of my repentance: No, Belesis I do not, but am absolutely resolved to fight for Cyrus till the Princess Mandana be released, and never to ask any other favour from the Princess Mandana, but her esteem and friendship, and I do not think it possible that all the force of my love and despair can make me alter my resolution. yet for all this, my heart will be full of tumultuous cogitations, and I must prepare for a continual war with myself, and let me tell you further, that I am not like unto most men who out of love's resentments do think all their Rivals unworthy men, how accomplished soever they be: But on the contrary, me thinks I see Cyrus so much above the rate of other men, and so worthy of Mandana, that I think it a strange Injustice if he did not love her, and she him: so that Judging by the greatness of that Prince's merit, and the greatness of the affection which that Princess ought to bear him, I must conclude, that no other ought to pretend any thing unto her: and therefore I have nothing to do in the world, but to seek for a handsome death, as doubtless I shall if I cannot obtain my pardon. On the other side, the King of Assyria, he is not without his perplexities; yet was he glad to be released, because Cyrus should not have all the glory of fight for Mandana: but it vexed him that he should be obliged unto Mazares for it. Yet since the sight of a loved Rival did set a sharper edge upon his spirits, than a Rival hated could: all the King of Assyrias malice was against Cyrus. Yet did he much esteem him maugre all his malice; and the virtue of this Prince did shine in so much lustre, that this malignant Jealous Prince could not choose but look upon him as one of the greatest Princes of the world, and the most worthy of Mandana. But whilst these three illustrious Rivals were entertaining their melancholy thoughts, Abradates and Panthea did solace themselves in the joys of each other. Andramites also was pleased with the sight of his adored Doralisa, whose ●ocund and indifferent humours, did yet not a little perplex him. Ligdamis and Cleoncei thought their hours sweet, since they were together: But the Prince Phraretes thought time more tedious, since he thought it impossible to see the Princess Araminta not incensed. The Prince Tigranes bewailed the absence of his dear Onesila, as Aglatidas did of Amestris: Tegeus and Feraulas also greeved at the captivity of Celenesa, and Martesia. The truth is, one would have said, love was the very soul of this Army, since there was not any considerable person in all the camp of Cyrus who had not a sense of this passion. But whilst it took up the thoughts of so many illustrious persons on the party of Cyrus, the King of Lydia and his side was all thoughts of anger and revenge, the escape of his prisoners of war much troubled him. The departure of the Prince of Classomena did trouble him more; and the King of Susiana and Andramites revolting sides, did put him into a strange fury; The Prince Myrsiles also seemed malcontent, and was much troubled that Andramites should do as he did: though he did much aggravate all discontents, none knowing his reason why.  
As for the King of Pontus, he had variety of apprehensions upon the matter, for he was very angry that Abradates, the Prince of Classomena, and Andramites should adhere unto Cyrus; but he was not sorry that the king of Assyria and Mazares were out of Sardis: for though the first of these two was a prisoner, yet he feared lest he should have some secret plots also; a natural antipathy against a Rival, made him glad of his absence, and he was not angry at both their departures: And not being so much perplexed as Croesus was, he did what he could to persuade him that the loss was not so great as he did apprehend it: The worst was, that the trace was near an end, and since there was no negotiation in hand because the King of Susiana had changed sides, they not knowing upon what ground to desire a prolonging of the treaty. In the mean time, this alteration had put all Sardis in such a fright, and so much disordered the Arny of Croesus, that there was an absolute necessity of more time to appease both people and soldiers. Moreover, since the passage over the River Halis was in the power of Cyrus, he might be forced to give battle if that Prince pleased: and he plainly saw, that if he did fight before things were better composed, the day would be lost: Therefore, as extreme maladies have always recourse unto extreme remedies, so Croesus resolved to begin another negotiation, though he had no intention to end it; but only to gain time. He told then the King of Pontus, that He intended to propound unto Cyrus an exchange between the Princess Araminta, and the Prince Artamas: but it was upon such odd conditions, as was apparent he aimed more at drift of time, than any real exchange, since one qualification was, that the Prince Artamas should promise never to pretend unto the Princess Palmis: and demanded further a releasement of all the prisoners which had been taken since Cyrus entered into his dominions. The King of Pontus approved of all that Croesus did propound unto him: for though in reality he was very willing to get his sister the Princess out of the power of Cyrus; yet he durst not tell the king of Lydia, that all his propositions could never take effect; because being his protector, it was fit he should comply with his opinion: Croesus therefore; because he had no other way, sent to desire a prolonging of the Truce for eight days more, to the end there might be a treaty concerning the releasement of the Prince Artamas, and the Princess Araminta. As soon as ever this proposition was made unto Cyrus, he knew very well: the real design of the Lydian King: and if he had followed his own inclination, he would absolutely have rejected it, and took advantage of the disorder which was in the Army of Croesus: But since it was propounded in the presence of the Phrygian King (who hoped to have his son at liberty by this negotiation) Cyrus perceiving the thoughts of this king, would by no means disoblige him, nor make the Princess Araminta, whom he highly esteemed, to think that he was more careless of her liberty then of Panthea's. And since he thought it concerned Croesus more to keep the Prince Artamas, than it did himself to keep the Princess Araminta, he consented unto the Truce desired; and the sooner, because, being assured of the pass over the river Halis, he could force Croesus to fight when he would; So that not insisting upon eight days, he resolved to satisfy the King of Phrygia, and not to incense the Princess of Pontus. Moreover, these eight days, were as expedient for him as for Croesus, for since the Lydians had made great waste in all the Country along the river Halis towards Sardis, he could in that interim provide ammunition and provision enough for his Army in all the neighbour Townes. The Truce then being renewved, the Prince Phraastes began to plot how to render it ineffectual: not out of any disaffection unto Prince Artamas, but because he was deep in love with Araminta, and could not consent she should go into the Country of his enemy, so he might lose the sight of her for ever. In the mean time, since the first days of this treaty were spent only in receiving Propositions from Croesus, which passed under the name of the King of Pontus, Cyrus was not so busy but He went to visit Panthea, and partake of her joys in Abradates: the King of Assyria also went thither sometimes, and so did all the rest of the Princes in the Army; so that during this Truce, the Court of Panthea might very well be called the most glorious Court in the world, since no place upon earth had so many gallant men together as it had. The stranger Arexaris, (during this little peace if I may term it so) did make it appear that he was a man of Civility as well as Courage. The Prince Mazares, though very melancholy, yet his solitude had not rendered him uncivil, but he also visited the Queen of Susiana: He saw: the Princess Araminta also: but all his visits, were visits rather of Civility, than any pleasant Company. In the mean time the King of Susiana considering the several interests of Cyrus and Mazares, and of Mazares and the King of Assyria, did so prudently compose their spirits, that they agreed together almost as well, as if all past passages were forgotten. Yet the King of Ayssria, did often let slip such languages as spoke his memory of them, but the wisdom of Mazares did so discreetly temper the impetuous humour of the Assyrian King, that there happened no disorder amongst them. All three would discourse together of their passions, and not quarrel, but it was in the presence of Abradates: for an extraordinary care was taken, never to let them be alone together, lest some violent passion of soul should produce some sad event. In the mean while Belesis, though in the midst of an army of 150000. men, and in a Town wherein were two great Princesses, and many Ladies of quality besides, yet melancholy did sit so heavy upon his soul that he never saw any but the Prince Mazares with whom he lodged. Things standing upon these terms, upon a day when Cyrus was with the Queen of Susiana, with whom the Princess Araminta was present, Belesis went to a little town with the Prince of Sa●es, to get something mended about the case of a picture which he prized infinitely dear, and would not trust it with any one: as he was speaking unto the workman, and took out the picture which he would not forsake, the workman having some knowledge in that Art, and finding it to be a rare piece, Could not choose but look upon it; whilst he was thus looking upon it both with admiration and delight, a stranger of a ha●some garb lighted from his horse close by the house where Belesis was, and accidentally casting his eyes upon this picture, he knew it: and did so wonder to find it in Lydia, that he could not choose but ask him who held it, and how he came by that picture, telling him, that it was his, for he could speak the Lydian language: he had no sooner said so, but Belesis understanding him, and knowing the voice, he turned and hastily took the picture: and turning towards the stranger, he perceived that he was not mistaken, but that it was really him whom he thought it to be, so that falling a pace back, Oh Hermogenes (cried he out being transported with grief and despair, and drawing his sword) dared you follow me as far as Lydia to take the picture from me, whose original you did so cruelly steal away? Hermogenes was so surprised to meet Belesis, and so many several things coming into his thoughts at once, it was a long while before he could get himself into a posture of defence; or consider what he saw was possible: But he had not leisure to deliberate upon the matter: for Orsanus passing by chance by, as Belesis stood upon his guard, and as Hermogenes knew not whether what he saw was true or false, called company to help him, and he seized both upon Belefis and Hermogenes as two men that were quarrelling, sending immediately to acquaint Mazares with it, who as soon as he heard of it, beseeched Cyrus to take order in the business: The Queen of Susiana hearing the name of Belesis did add her prayers unto his, accusing herself of forgetfulness, since Orsanus spoke unto her of him: yet to repair her fault, she acquainted the King of Susiana with the merit of the man, and assuring Cyrus that he was a man of great quality and much spirit, all the Princes went into another chamber to see Belesis and him who quarrelled with him, but the Queen of Susiana having an earnest desire to see Belesis, entreated Cyrus to let them be brought before him: so that he commanded them to be brought in. As soon as ever they entered into the chamber, Panthea did know Hermogenes to be of Susa, and of good quality, and who intending to get into Sardis, did by good fortune hear that Abradates had changed sides, so that he altered his course, and came to this little town, which was the same where the Queen of Susiana quartered: Abradates and Panthea highly esteeming Hermogenes did much welcome him and Belesis both; after they had spoken unto these two quarrellers with all possible civility, they beseeched Cyrus to favour them, and oblige them to tell what their difference was: It is of such a nature, (said Belesis) that it is impossible it should ever be rightly told, and therefore I think it better to leave us enemies still, then to consume so much time in troubling two great Princes with relation of such things as are indifferent unto them. The Interest of persons of such merit (answered Cyrus) ought never to be indifferent unto the greatest Princes upon earth; Therefore if to render justice, nothing be wanting but a hearing the relation of your lives, we shall hear them with much delight; Also, I cannot think we can better employ our vacant time during this truce, then in making Hermogenes and you friends: and I shall have some advantage by it (added Cyrus with a smile) since if I do reconcile you, I shall hope you will fight with more courage in the day of battle, therefore I most humbly beseech the Queen of Susiana, that she would be pleased to command Hermogenes to tell me his adventures, if Belesis will not do it himself: Hermogenes (replied Belesis) is too much interested in the business, to relate his story and mine; For Sr. he must needed make a partial relation, since he would persuade me that I am in the wrong and he in the right. To make it appear that I stand not in need of any disguisements of the truth (said Hermogenes) I am contented that he himself relate all the passages betwixt us: I cannot do it (replied Belesis) for it is impossible I should make a relation of all my sad adventures, and not return into my first despair. To compose the matter betwixt them (said Abradates unto Cyrus) It must neither be Belesis nor Hermogenes that must relate their adventures, but some one who is an equal friend unto them both, and who is acquainted with the perfect story: oh Sr. replied Belesis, there is none in the world can do it, but Alcenor: 'tis he whom I intent to speak of, replied Abradates, and I wonder you saw him not, since he came to Sardis two days before I left it, and therefore did certainly follow me hither. It is rather to be wondered, if he did see him, replied the Prince Mazares; for Belesis almost never stirred abroad since he left his desert, but when he thought to assist me in the delivery of the Princess Mandana: After this, Cyrus desired these two enemies to refer the relation of their difference unto him whom Abradates named, since they could not agree to do it themselves: and they consented unto it: yet desiring to see Alcenor before he spoke; so that without loss of any longer time, the Queen of Susiana sending to look for him, he was immediately found and was showed unto both those his friends, who jointly willed him to speak the truth, both of them supposing there needed nothing else to justify themselves: after which, retiring into another chamber, Alcenor began the relation in these terms: Panthea appointing him to address his speech unto Cyrus as Judge of the controversy, for she had already been informed of the adventure, though she was desirous to hear it over again.  

The History of Belesis and Hermogenes, and of Cleodora, and Leonisa.  
Doubtless Sr. It will seem very strange unto you, that I should be so equal a friend unto two enemies, as I should even to the least circumstance, know the events of both their lives even to their most secret thoughts; and that both of them should have such a good opinion of my sincerity, that they are contented I should relate the adventures of their lives in their own presence, though they are of that nature, that the least circumstance omitted doth extremely alter the case: yet notwithstanding I hope to render myself worthy of the favour which they do me, being fully resolved to disguise nothing, but will ingenuously relate, all their imbecilities as I found in them. But Sr. since I conceive it requisite you know who they are: (give me leave to tell you Sr. that Belesis is a Mantianian, and of the Prime quality in his country, and that Hermogenes is a Susanian, and of a very high quality also, besides the advantages of birth, they had that of excellent education, not only in such arts as are essentially requisite to make complete men; but also in other inferior trifles which yet do infinitely polish the spirits of them who know them, and are delightful to those that know them not: It was the pleasure of their Parents they should travel together at one time: and as if the Gods designed their meeting, and that they should love each other, they met both at Babylon not only at the same time, but also in the same house though one of them came from Susa; and the other from Mantiana, so that though both of them were of such a garb, as might move equal curiosity of knowing who they were, yet they sought for occasions of being talked of, and they easily found them. For since they had got most of the Asiatic languages, before they set out to travel; and since the Susian and Mantinian tongues resembled one another, they discoursed familiarly together, the first time they met; & went together to view the wonders of this proud and stately town: they were so well acquainted at this very first encounter, tthat they affected the same pleasures, practised the same Arts: knew the same things; a first, their intentions were to associate together as long as they stayed in Babylon, where they ●●journed about a month; But since in that time they grew more intimate, and loved each other better, they could not part so soon, and in conclusion agreed to travel together; those two loving friends kept close together a whole year in travelling from Court to Court, and from Country to Country, in much delight, not the least contest ever happening between them: after they had seen all that was worthy of sight, Hermogenes moved Belesis, in lieu of returning home, to spend some time at Susa: and certainly his curiosity to see so stately a town was grounded upon good reason, for I do not think there is a town in the whole univers, so full of all delights: Belesis then being easily persuaded to see the most goodly place of the world, and to go with a friend from whom he could not part without extreme grief, arrived at Susa a little while after the illustrious Abradates was banished: But that he might not repent of his coming thither; Hermogenes who was well acquainted with all the Advenues, did so guide him, that they entered in at the most pleasant quarter, which indeed is one of the most delightful objects that eye can behold. For Sr. in coming to Susa this way, there is a little hill from whence one views a great valley containing above a hundred furlongs, in the midst of which passeth in a serpentine manner the river Choaspes, the water whereof is so clear and pure, that the most crystal fresh spring is not comparable to it, upon the banks of this River, stands the town of Susa; and the great number of magnificent Fabrics makes it seem as fair without, as it is within; That which makes the place most pleasant, and dwelling there most healthful is, that all this great valley is diapered with a million of several colours in flowers, which by their admirable enamel does charm the eyes with variety, and perfume the Air with odour: infinitely surpassing the Rainbow or any other prospect whatsoever: Also, from this abundance of Fragrant Flowers, the town of Susa takes its name; for in that language they signify alike; and therefore this valley or meadow is called the Rainbow of Susa, throughout all Asia. Moreover in coming that way which Hermogenes did bring Belesis, there are along that pleasant River four great walks, so large, so strait, so even, and so shady, by the height of the trees which grow by the sides (though wood is very scant in all that Country) that a more Pleasant walk cannot be imagined. Unto this place all the Ladies every evening resort in their Coaches, and where the Men Rendezvous on horseback: so that having Liberty to go sometimes into one walk and sometimes into another, it is a Place of the greatest pleasure in the world. Hermogenes intending to let the first time of Belesis his coming unto Susa, to be a time of Pleasure, and the more to surprise him, he never told him that he would bring him this way: yet because he would not displease his friend, by bringing him into a place of so much resort in a negligent habit: desired him that morning to dress himself as one that was to Lodge in a house where he should see many Ladies, as indeed there was at the house of Hermogenes; his mother and his sister being there: So that Belesis not foreseeing the harmless deceit of his friend, did habit himself in a very rich handsome suit, above the custom of travellers: But he easily perceived the cunning of Hermogenes, when he found all these great walks full of Gilded Coaches in which were all the Prime Beauties of Susa; and after them, an infinite number of men of Quality, admirably well mounted, and Richly habited who came and saluted them. Then did Belesis thank him for his Pleasant fallacy in letting him see so many beauties together in one place and in such a Gallant manner. After which sending all their train another way, Belesis & Hermogenes began to enter into the walk, as if in lieu of travel, they were newly come out of Susa. For my part: I being an intimate friend unto Hermogenes, before he was acquainted with Belesis, I was extremely surprised to see him arrive whilst I was talking with some Ladies: for I did not yet expect him. I no sooner spied him, but showing him those unto whom I talked, (to the end, they should not take it ill, that I left them so abruptly) I went to meet him: and since it was not the custom of that place to alight from horses, because it would interrupt the walk of Ladies; we embraced each other on horseback: After the first raptures of joy to see one another, Hermogenes desired me to love Belesis, as he desired Belesis to love me: after this Belesis and I saluted each other with much Civility and so much freedom, as made it apparent we were both of us disposed to obey Hermogenes in his desires. All our Compliments being performed, Hermogenes desiring to divert Belesis, and desired his travel unto Susa might please him, asked me whether all the Beauties of the Town were that evening in the walks? Wishing that his friend should all at once see what Susa had fair. And as he named all that were there, and all that were not there, it chanced that one Lady of Quality called Cleodora, who doubtless was one of the brightest stars in all Susa, was not there, whereat Hermogenes was very sad; and as I asked why he should be so sad, since I knew he was not in Love? the Reason is Alcenor (said he unto me) because I would have all the Beauties in Susa here, to the end some of them might Captivate Belesis and stay him here amongst us: If so, replied Belesis, you would not be obliged at all unto me for my stay in Susa, and therefore I had rather stay here upon terms of friendship then Love. After this we began to look upon the Ladies, and to salute them. Every one wondering to see Hermogenes bidding him welcome home, and ask who Belesis was. After many turns, well Belesis (said Hermogenes to him) do you find any of our beauties worthy of the honour to Captivate you? I find their beauties to be admirably rare, replied he: but to tell you truly, I have not met with any yet who makes my heart and my spirits to tremble, as commonly beauty useth to do unto one that is destined to Love, and which ever precedes that Love he owes her: So that if this Cleodora, who you say is not here, have no other Charms than these have, you and none else shall thank me for my stay in Susa: since in all likelihood, I shall not fall in Love. As Belesis said so, we saw a Coach appear at the end of the walks towards Susa, which seemed to be Cleodora's Aunts with whom she lived: I no sooner spied it, but I showed it unto Hermogenes, who knowing it as well as myself, told Belesis and smiled, that he would go meet his Captivator: I am not yet conquered, replied he, and smiled also however he followed, and Hermogenes carried him on that side which Cleodora was used to sit: But when they came near the Coach, Belesis found her the fairest that he saw. Since it was late before she came into the walks; and the Sun low, her face was unmasked, so that Belesis saw her as if Fate had a design to Fetter him, as indeed really he was: Cleodora was that time in a white dress trimmed with Diamonds and Rubies, having upon her head many feathers of White and Carnation die, which hung down so low behind, that they reached to her Arms when she turned her head: As part of Cleodoras' beauties was to have eyes admirably fair: Complexion white and ruddy, and her stature tall, there did not need any search to be made for the discovery of it; for she always seemed fair at first sight: and so that all beholders were persuaded they should find fairer feature upon further consideration: so that it was no wonder if Cleodora did that, which many others could not; Belesis no sooner set eyes upon this evening star, but he preferred it before all the rest, and desired Hermogenes to take the other turn: when we heard him say so we smiled, and asked him whether he found trembling of heart and spirit, which he said always preceded Love? he answered us with a smile again, that he was not yet fettered, but feared he should be: if you fear it said I unto him, why do you follow your enemy, and not rather fly from her? It is because I had rather trust to my resistance (answered he) then to my flight: since he said so, Belesis, Hermogenes and myself met Cleodora the second time, who then knew Hermogenes, for at the first time she did not perceive him, because she fixed her eyes so fast upon Belesis, that she minded not any thing else for a long time; As it is very ordinary in such places to look upon strangers, more than upon their old acquaintance, though happily not so handsome, and that's the reason she did not see Hermogenes; but knowing him this second time, she called him unto her, seeming to be glad to see him, but gladder of the occasion to ask the name of that stranger whom she saw was of his acquaintance. And therefore she no sooner saw him, but calling him as I told you before, How long Hermogenes (said she unto him) is it since you returned? It is so lately Madam, (replied he) that I need not make any excuse for not having the honour to see you before; although you be she whom of all the world I owe most respect unto, since I have not yet been in Susa. 'tis very gallant, replied she to finish a years' travels with such a walk as this: and if you had been thought in Love when you departed, I should have believed this to be the place where you had appointed to meet your Mistress; To tell you truly Madam, (replied he) the affection which I have unto this stranger whom you see here, is the cause that I have the honour of seeing you here this day, for since I had a great desire he should stay here amongst us, I did what I could to fetter him, and therefore Fair Cleodora I conjure you, to do me this favourable office. You are a wicked friend (answered she) to desire any such thing; but indeed I cannot think you do desire it: But Hermogenes, to speak a little more seriously, tell me this stranger's Name; his Quality; and his Country? I shall tell you more than all this (replied Hermogenes) for when I have told you that his Name is Belesis, of a high Quality, and that he is a Mantianian, I shall tell you further, that he thinks you the fairest he ever saw; and if you will not believe me, I will move him to tell you as much himself. As soon as he had said so, not giving Cleodora time to answer, he turned towards Belesis and calling him aloud: Come hither Belesis (said he unto him) come and confirm what I have told Cleodora; Provided you have told her that I think her the fairest upon earth (said Belesis coming near the Coach which went very softly, and saluting her with a low Congee) I shall most Joyfully confirm your words, and that with an oath if need be. Doubtless Generous stranger (answered she and smiled) you think you do Hermogenes a courtesy in commending any thing he shows you; and indeed I receive your flatteries rather as a mark of your friendship to him, then of any good opinion, you have of me. If it were so Madam, (replied Belesis) I should have commended every beauty which I saw in this place before you came, purposely to oblige Hermogenes, But I can assure you, I commended none but yourself: and I must add, said Hermogenes, that if Belesis Love any in Susa, it must be the Fair Cleodora: for he told Alcenor and me, that he perceived in himself such a kind of heart-trembling as useth to precede Love always; as soon as Hermogenes had said so, so many Coaches met in that Place, as of necessity the discourse must break off; Belesis telling Cleodora with his eyes that all Hermogenes said was true, and Cleodora made such signs by the actions of her head and hand, as made her thoughts something apparent. After which, all the Ladies retired to their homes, and so did we. In our way thither, Belesis asked us of what disposition Cleodora was: and whether she had many Servants? Since I was better able to inform him then Hermogenes, who had been absent a whole year, I took upon me to answer and satisfy his Curiosity, which indeed was better grounded than he imagined: So that to content him I told him in general, that there was not one of her sex in Susa, who had more or a finer spirit than she had: I perceived that already (replied he) both by her Physiognomy, and the air wherewith she spoke: But that which I desire to know is, of what kind of spirit that is? Since that is your desire (replied I) I must tell you that Cleodora hath in appearance more sweet affability, than ever any had; yet those who know the bottom of her heart, do say she is a little more severe: but how ever it be, it is most certain, that very many strive to please her, though she dislikes all; yet notwithstanding all this, there is much tenderness and goodness in her spirit: and this third is a mixture of complacence and severity both in her soul, which makes her not always of an equal temper, though she be always affably pleasant. Moreover she is extremely nice and delicate in choice of her friends, which is commended by some, and much blamed by others: for if those who visit her, be not very complete men of admirable Parts, she cares not for their company, nor whether they esteem her or esteem her not. You do very much perplex me, said Belesis; for you tell me such a story as makes Cleodora very dreadful to me; and yet I cannot choose but think it much pleasure to engage the heart of such a one as you describe her. If you dare attempt it (replied I) you are more bold than many complete gallants of our Court, who questionless have a great inclination to love Cleodora, but dare not attempt it: Not but that as you see, she is civil and affable enough; yet it is so difficult a task to please her that few men have so good an opinion of themselves, as ever to go about it. Moreover this must be said in her commendations, that she is never deceived in her choice, and whosoever she esteems, does certainly deserve to be so: yet for all that it were to be wished she would be more indulgent than she is to the imperfections of others; not that she doth ever speak of them; but because she will never speak unto them who have them; or if she do, it is with such a cold indifferency as makes them despair who have so much wit as to discern it: yet for all this Cleodora is admirably complacent, especially unto those whom she has a desire to be acquainted with: and therefore since you merit to be in the catalogue of those whom she esteems, I advise you to see her, and see her often whilst you are at Susa. Though it be but ou of mear curiosity (replied Belesis) certainly I will see her, let me give you this advice, said Hermogenes, for you must know that if Cleodora have not changed her humour, she is yet very fantastical, and puts a great difference between the complete gallants of the Court, and others; therefore if you desire to please her, you must not live as a stranger that would never be known: perhaps the reason is (replied Belesis) because she is persuaded it is impossible to be complete unless one have such a garb and air, as is very rarely gotten any where but in Court, besides that (added I) Cleodora knows not what to say unto such as are ignorant of the news which is in the world, and which she knows admirably well. To please Cleodora then (replied Belesis) it seems I must furnish myself with a hundred thousand things of discourse: doubtless you must (replied I, unless you have a privilege above others) if you would have her talk long with you: Thus Sr. did Hermogenes and I make Cleodora known unto Belesis: who was entertained at his friend's house with much magnificence, The next day following Hermogenes went to the King, and to the Prince of Susa who then was, and carried Belesis with him, whose name was not unknown unto these Princes, for his father had formerly been a long time together at Susa. After this, two or three days were spent in receiving visits which were rendered unto Hermogenes, and in letting Belesis see the rarities of the town. After this he asked Hermogenes when he would carry him unto Cleodora? for (said he) though I am not yet well furnished with such discourse as will divert her, yet I have a great desire to visit her. Hermogenes sent immediately to know whether Cleodora was at home: and answer was brought, that about an hour since she was gone into the country, and would not return this fifteen days. Since I intent to stay three moneth● in this place (replied Belesis) to comfort myself I must imagine that it is a delight deferred, not lost. During the absence of Cleodora, Hermogenes showed Belesis all the beauties both in Court and Town, but his heart was not at all moved by them: and being of a pleasant and quick war, he made himself acquainted with all the friends of Hermogenes in a short time, and knew the several interests and businesses of all the Court, as well as if he had been bred in it all his life: After the expiration of fifteen days, the fair Cleodora returned: and hap would have it so, that Belesia, Hermogenes, and I being in the walks, we saw her return and saluted her: and knowing of her return before hand we were there the first; and since it was yet very timely, we might without any incivility visit her; but first we gave her time to consult with her glass, and make herself fit to entertain company. When we were come thither, Hermogens pretended Belesis to her Aunt and her also; and to complete his civility unto his friend, he kept the Aunt in discourse, and left Cleodora unto Belesis and me. In the mean while, as flatteries are seldom forgotten when they are handsomely applied; so the language of Belesis unto Cleodora in the walks, the same day he came first to Susa, did now move her unto more affability than she ordinarily used, and she spoke unto him much more than unto any one: yet she treated him as a stranger, unto whom she thought it not fit to speak of any thing but in general; therefore beginning her discourse, I do not ask you (said she unto him) whether Hermogenes hath showed you all the beauties of Susa, for I make no question but he carried you to all places where you might meet with any delights; therefore I pray you do me the favour to tell me, what you think of our public places, of our Temples; of our walks, and of every thing in Susa: all these Madam (replied Belesis) seem admirably beautiful unto me: but to tell you sincerely (said he and laughed) I do not think these questions proper to divert you: therefore I beseech you do not use me like a stranger, unto whom nothing is to be talked on, but the customs of his own country. If I had had the honour to have spoke with you the day after I first arrived, I should have been patient at such discourse as this: But now, Fair Cleodora, it is fifteen days since I came to Susa: so that if you think I know nothing yet, but that your streets be large and neat: your Temples beautiful; your Palaces magnificent, and such things, you treat me too cruelly: but I beseech you, if you love me, do not force yourself unto such discourse, but ask me what news, as if I were a Susanian and a courtier. Cleodora hearing Belesis say so, began to laugh, not thinking he could tell her any private news: and imagining he would not have spoke so, but because he had known something of her humour; so that beginning to talk again, I see you know (said she unto him) that I am afraid of any new acquaintance, nor care for the company of men who are ignorant in the affairs of the world; But Belesis, I am not so unjust as they report me: for that which I wonder at, is at the men of Susa, who are ignorant in all things: but as for you, who are not so, nor have dwelled amongst us; I should be very unreasonable if I should blame you for not knowing all the secrets of our Court, and uncivil also, to speak unto you of such things as you understand not. For my part (said I and spoke unto Belesis) I conceive you have reason to commend Cleodora: on the contrary, replied he, perhaps I have more cause to complain of her, than you think I have: but however (said he, speaking unto her) will you be pleased to promise me, that you will not let me pass under the notion of a stranger, if I do tell you some news? I do not mean such (said he and smiled) as is spoke aloud in the streets, or such as is whispered from ear to ear four days together before it bolt out. Ah Belesis (said she) you will make me the most ashamed, and do me the greatest favour in the world, if you can do as you say: yet I see no likelihood of it, for excepting yesterday, I have every day received letters from Susa, which acquainted me with all the news that was stirring, (however, said he unto her) if I acquaint you with something since, you ought not to tax me with ignorance: After this he began to tell her of a hundred passages: and to speak unto her, as one that knew all the factions, and several interests of every person of quality, whether it were his ambition or his love, or any thing else in all the Court and Town: so that Cleodora and he came to that pass, before the conference ended, that they often whispered unto each other, and induced me to change my place, and address myself unto the Aunt of Cleodora, and Hermogenes: And so that from this first day Belesis was very intimate with Cleodora, who openly confessed that he had told her many things which were never written unto her: Truly said she unto him, as they were ready to go away) I believe you have been a long time concealed in Susa: for it is impossible you should come to the knowledge of all these things (which you have told me) in fifteen days. I know something more replied he, which doubtless, you do not know: oh I beseech you (said Cleodora unto him) go not away before you impart it to me: I will (said Belesis to her) then whispering in her ear, certainly you do not know, sweet Cleodora (said he unto her, that I am extremely in love with you) I do not indeed (said she aloud and blushed) and more than that, I do not believe it, or think it possible. Time will tell us both, more certainly answered Belesis, and retired: after which we went out, and went unto the house of Hermogenes. When we were with Belesis in his chamber, we asked him what he thought of Cleodora? I will not tell you, replied he, for perhaps you are not now the cause of my staying here; I do not wonder (replied I) that you should be well pleased with this beauty, since she hath treated you otherwise then she used to do any that were not her friends, yet her behaviour (said he) would cost me many an angry hour, if I in earnest love her: for notwithstanding her sweet affability, I discover a kind rigid pride in her, which would grieve me to the soul; and notwithstanding all this, she hath such attracts in her eyes, as I know not how to defend myself against them, though I have a great desire unto it: For my part, said Hermogenes, I ever defended myself against her: for though she have many alluring beauties, yet there are many things observable in her humour, which are so many antidotes against the poison of her charms, so that I am in no danger of ever dying for love of her. It is not so with me, said Belesis, for I am afraid I shall one day complain against you for making me acquainted with her. These were the effects Sir, which the beauty of Cleodora wrought in the heart of Belesis: and now I will tell you what effects Belesis produced in the heart of Cleodora. But to let you see how even very trifles do often purchase great esteem amongst Ladies. Be pleased to know that Belesis understanding there was a great league of friendship between the sister of Hermogenes and Cleodora, he expressed much civility towards her, and she to him, her name was Prassilla: Belesis being one day with her, he entreated her to show him what rare Gardens there was in Susa: I should have asked this favour of Hermogenes (said he) but I confess unto you, I cannot think any gardens, or walks pleasant unless in the company of Ladies; and therefore you will much oblige me, if you will do me this honour. Belesis had no sooner pronounced the last word, but Cleodora entered, who came to visit Prassilla: she was no sooner set down, but Prassilla acquainted Cleodora with the desire of Belesis, who the sooner to compass his desire, seemed to hinder Prassilla from ending that which she had begun to tell: I beseech you, said he unto her, do me not so bad an office, as to make me pass yet for a stranger unto the fair Cleodora, with whom I am not yet thoroughly acquainted. The resistance which Belesis made, wrought his desired effect, and infused a great desire in that Lady, to know what Prassilla would tell her: so that being very urgent, Prassilla told her, and withal desired her assistance, in setting forth the glories of Susa. Cleodora being glad of an occasion to compliment with Belesis, told him, that she was much pleased to see he was not like most travellers, who hardly use to know who it is that reigns in the Country which they pass thorough: and who content themselves only with the memory of the temples which they have seen, of mountains, of rivers, and such things; but never inquire of the manners, customs, and people, which dwell in those Towns; whose streets and public places, they only use to observe: But I perceive you are better acquainted with all the gallants of our Court, than you are with our Gardens: and therefore I am very willing to assist Prassilla in letting you see them, and if she please, to morrow shall be the day, when with some other Ladies that are our friends, we will go unto the most pleasant place in the world, not far off our river. I am very well contented with it, said Prassilla. And then Belesis could do no less than concur with the desires of two such pleasant Ladies; always seeming to be sorry Cleodora should treat him as a stranger. The matter being thus resolved upon, and the morrow being come, Hermogenes, Belesis and I went to wait upon the Ladies, who were to be present at this walk: And Cleodora being in the pleasant humour, as soon as we came unto the place, and came out of the Coach, she held out her hand unto Belesis, Come hither generous stranger (said she unto him) come and see the beauties of our Country, that you may talk of them when you come into your own.  
For heaven's sake Madam, said he unto her, Call me not stranger: I must needs call you so this day, replied she, and laughed, since I shall show you a thousand things you never saw before, and since you are in a place where you have no acquaintance. I am contented, said he, to be a stranger until this day of washing be ended: and so am I said she. At the coming into the Garden she willed him to observe all the beauties in it: the rest of the company followed, and mixed discourse. At the first Cleodora carried him into a great walk of Cypress trees, at the end of which was a Fountain, the waters whereof rising up in great spouts one upon another, seemed as if it were a rock of crystal, unto which the rays of the Sun gave colours like to the Bow of heaven. Afterwards we went to sit down in a great Arbour of Myrtle, wherein there were twenty four statues: In the midst of this Arbour there was a Fountain, whose waters were cast out by twelve Sea-monsters, so that half of their bodies were only visible; in the midst of which, was a Neptune with his Trident. Because this Arbour was exceedingly pleasant, and had several seats in the midst, we stayed there a long while; Cleodora was always disputing with Belesis, and would needs persuade him he had such things as those he saw in his country: she named all the flowers, and herbs (that were generally known) unto him; and she was so witty upon every subject, that she infinitely delighted all the company: Belesis did contribute as much as possible to augment the mirth: But after we had been a long while there, Belesis told Cleodora, that to complete all her favours, it would be a great addition, if she would be pleased to let him see the house unto which the garden belonged. You will not find it so pleasant as what you have seen already, said she: for excepting one Parlour, and a vault, which are exceedingly cool in Summer, all the rest are inconsiderable: yet if you will, we'll go: In saying so Cleodora rose up, Belesis continually leading her, and all the company following until we came to the Parlour door: Then did Cledora send unto the porter to open the door: But Sir, there was no need to stay long for him; because as soon as Cleodora and Belesis came to the door, it was opened: and Cleodora saw that there was a very magnificent Banquet prepared. She was so surprised at the sight, and so little imagining it could be Belesis who prepared it, that she retired, and would herself shut the door, supposing there might be some secret piece of gallantry of other men: But she was not long in that error, for Belesis thrusting open the door, there was heard a consort of rare Music: after which, turning towards Cleodora, he beseeched her to excuse him as a stranger, if he did not treat her so handsomely as he would do. How, Belesis (said she unto him) do I show you the garden, and is it you that gives us this costly Banquet: At least, confess that Hermogenes and Aleenor have ordered the business. I will not shame them so much (replied he) by telling such an untruth to excuse myself withal for your no better entertainment: Then did Hermogenes and I declare that we knew nothing of it: So that after this, every one was ravished with admiration, acclamations and commendations of Belesis: Cleodora asked pardon for treating him as a stranger, and promising never to do so again as long as she lived. The truth is, we praised Belesis so much, that every one forgot there was such a thing as silence in Nature: And the company was so highly satisfied with this pleasant surprise, that it wrought no small effect in the heart of Cleodora: For there is nothing so prevalent with a growing affection, as to act some high piece of gallantry as may cause many persons to commend one in the presence of her he loves. Thus, Sir, did Belesis cease to be a stranger with Cleodora; who after this did visit her very often, and with whom he fell so deep in love as he intended to stay as long as he could in Susa. He carried it out so very well, that his parents sending him wherewith to put himself in Equipage, that there was not one man of his condition in all the Court, who lived at a finer rate than he. In the mean time, he knew so admirably well how to take the height of Cleodora's spirit, that he was in very favourable esteem with her; yet durst never speak seriously of his passion to her: for he knew it was a dangerous business to speak unto her of any love: At first she declared, that she ranked him in the Catalogue of her friends in general: A while after, she did him the favour to acknowledge publicly, that he was in the number of three or four whom she preferred before all the rest: and a while after that, I believe Belesis knew, without her telling him, that he was the prime of her friends. In the mean while he durst not discover himself to be her lover, but only her friend; for he being very intimate with her, she confessed one day unto him, that she should be the most satisfied woman in the world, if she could once see, how far the patience of an ill treated lover would go: You may well think, said she unto him, that I am in no humour of any gallantry: but if ever I chance to run out of my wits so far as to take any pleasure in the folly of another, and that the fantastical fate of love do ever send me a lover, certainly I shall not take any greater pleasure in the world, then in tormenting him. And truly I do not think any thing so sweet, as to make such a sort of men to suffer, as make little molehills to be great mountains of misery: But is it possible (said Belesis to her) that you should be capable of any such thoughts of cruelty? If I should (said she and laughed) cut the throat of a man with my own hand; poison another; set a Town on fire, and a thousand such things, doubtless these would be horror unto me, and I should rather die then think of any such things; But Belesis, since in making a man miserable, I am only a little partial, a little angry, and a little insensible: I shall not much do●● at it, though it purchase me the name inhuman, inexorable, and cruel: yes a Tigress if you please, or any thing rather than to come puling with finger in eye, and tell me that I am fair, that I am amiable, and that I am charming. Therefore it is a great happiness, that I was not borne with beauty enough to make many Conquests: for certainly my Reign would have been tyrannical. Yet I can hardly believe it, replied Belesis: for those who live under your power, me thinks have no mind to rebel: 'Tis then because I do not know they are my subjects, replied she; for if I did, I should quickly make them slaves, and slaves so loaded with irons, that perhaps they would endeavour to break them. Cleodora spoke this with so much earnestness of spirit, as Belesis was amazed, and durst not be so bold as to declare himself, as he once intended; because he thought she spoke it purposely that he should not engage himself to serve her: and indeed this thought did so damp his spirit, as from that day he became very reserved and melancholy; and so much that he never enquired after any thing: so that in lieu of furnishing Cleodora with news, and acquainting her with all passages before any knew it, he did inquire of her, for he did not know so much as the common news of the street. This lovely Lady, perceiving his change, began one day when he was alone with her, to chide him, and also to oblige him, for as good hap for him was, she was not then in an humour so to hide her anger, as none could discover it. Is it possible, (said she unto him) I should ever see such an alteration? for indeed, you do not less astonish me now you are ignorant of all that is done in Susa, than you did when you came first, and yet knew every thing: Is it because you are weary of your complacency towards me? Is the reason, because you are weary of Susa? or is it because you think news not fit for discourse, and intent to reform the world by your example? It is not any of these you have named Madam, replied he; But the reason is, because there is something so chokes my mind, that I can think of nothing else for it. The only remedy for such an humour, answered Cleodora, is to frequent no places but where one hath some business, which may drive it out of your thoughts: The reason why I am now ignorant of every thing (replied Belesis) is, because I cannot go unto the place where I have my business: and in that place, I do not hearken to what people say. But Belesis, (replied Cleodora, not guessing at what he would say) I see you continually here: 'Tis true Madam (answered he) but the reason why I am continually here is, because no other place pleaseth me: It seems then (said she craftily) that you have no desire to please yourself: for of late you are always musing, and never speak. The reason is Madam, replied he, because I am afraid to speak that which you have no desire to know. Provided you do not speak of any thing wherein I have any interest, answered she, there is nothing which you can speak that will offend me. Me thinks, replied Belesis, your curiosity would be more rational, if you desired to know that which concerns you, then that which concerns you not: however it be, said she unto him, it is my humour, and all those that desire to please me, must conform themselves unto it. But Madam, (replied he, with a very serious countenance) if I should tell you there is a person who complains against you, a person whom I have heard you say, you esteemed, would you not desire to know of what he accuseth you, to the end you might justify yourself? No, (replied she) for if I be accused wrongfully, it is not worth my justification: and if I be culpable, it is as I would be, and be both incapable of repentance or excuse. I cannot believe you so unjust (replied Belesis) but since you will neither justify nor excuse yourself, may I not think you would not have others justify or excuse themselves? No, said she: for by the same reason that I would not give an account of my actions unto others, do I desire that others should do that which I will not do myself. If this be so Madam, replied Belesis, than I hope, you will not be offended when I tell you, that the reason why I am ignorant of all the passages of the world is, because all my endeavours are employed to know your heart; and the reason why I speak so little, is, because I am afraid to speak too soon, especially when I shall tell you that I love you in such a fatal minute, as shall for ever purchase your hatred. I assure you, replied Cleodora, all times are alike for that, and there is one minute in which I should allow you to speak of any such thing, therefore, I pray you never do it; you are so far engaged in an odd Discourse, but you may turn it into a rallary. No, no Madam, said Belesis, I speak most seriously: and I had rather incense you by discovering the violent passion of my heart, then that you should be for ever ignorant of it: I have heretofore heard you say, that you had rather be called cruel, inhuman, and inexorable, then be commended; therefore me thinks you ought not to think it strange, that I had rather you would call me rash, presumptuous, and insolent, then that you should commend me only as your best friend: Since you would have it so, replied Cleodora, I will do what I can to satisfy you, though till now I was never put to the necessity of it. I beseech you Madam, said Belesis) do not treat me with the extremity of your rigour and anger. I was so far from it, (replied she and laughed) that if I had been now in an angry humour, I am confident you would not have spoken thus, but I should have imposed silence still upon you, though I must ingeniously confess, that within this quarter of an hour, I endeavoured to be angry with you, but could not: and the reason was, because I did not believe anysuch thing as you speak of: Ah Madam, (cried Belesis) I will have none of your sweetness upon such hard conditions; yet what probability is there, that the fair Cleodora should know what is done in every place where she is not; and be ignorant of what ●●seth in my heart, where continually she is? Moreover Madam, who is able to keep me at Susa unless yourself? The friendship of Hermogenes (replied she) who brought you hither: 'tis true, replied he, I came hither for the Love of him, but yet more true, that I stay here for the Love of you Madam. If what you say be true, (replied she) I advise you to depart from Susa as soon as you can; for Belesis, to tell you truly, I am a better friend, than I shall be a Mistress, though I should suffer you to love me: but indeed I cannot do that; and you cannot do me a more sensible displeasure, then to persuade me that you love me: for what inclination soever I have, to love news, yet I do not love to be the news of others: and when I consider, that if you take a fancy of doing such things for me, as men who would be thought to be in Love use; every one will begin to whisper, that Belesis Loves Cleodora, and perhaps they will add, that Cleodora allows of it without resistance; I shall be so extremely angry, that I shall go near to hate you. Madam, replied Belesis, the only way to prevent all whiseprings that I am in Love with you, is to permit me the liberty of telling it unto you in secret, and that you do not force me to despair: for Madam, I conceive it an easy matter for an happy Lover to be secret: But if you will not believe that I Love you, and let me speak of it sometimes unto you, than I shall be forced to persuade you of the truth by doing a thousand things which would discover my passion unto all the world.  
Therefore, Fair Cleodora, Consider well before you Pronounce the sentence of my death, whether I do deserve it, if it be your Pleasure, none shall ever know that I Love you, and you yourself shall only know what power you have over my soul. But if you will not allow me to speak of my Love in private, I Profess unto you, I will make every man a confident of my Passion, not only to the end I may have some comfort in complaining against your Rigour, but to the end also that all the world may speak of you; you shall see (hardhearted woman) whether it is better a 100000 Men should say I Love you, then that I myself only should tell it you, and that with a most unparalelled respect. I pray Belesis, said Cleodora, hold your peace, unless you have a mind to provoke me into very rude language: for if you continue any longer, the anger of my heart will so rise, that I shall rail against you. As Cleodora was saying so, I came in, and broke off their discourse: I easily perceived they had been in some private talk; for I saw such a lively colour in the cheeks of Cleodora, and so much anger in the eyes of Belesis, that I almost guessed at the passage between them: after this, Cleodora put in practice what she had formerly told Belesis: For there was no kind of severity, which she did not show unto him, though she esteemed him infinitely, and perhaps Loved him also. She did not only avoid all occasions of talking alone with him, but if in any company he came amongst them, she would talk to some other in his presence, yet truly she was all ways civil towards him: for I believe she did not strive to quench those flames which she had kindled in his soul, but did in her wishes rather blow the bellows and increase it: yet all her civilities towards him did much grieve rather then comfort Belesis: and one day finding her alone, he complained of his miserable condition unto her, I respect you so much Madam (said he unto her) that I will not complain of all your cruelties and scorns, for indeed I think myself worthy of them, for Madam, what good will all your civilities do me if you have resolved upon my Ruin? is it because you love long torments, and because a violent death will not fully satisfy your cruelty? Civility replied Cleodora is debt a due even to our very enemies. I know very well Madam, (replied he) that it is to be used in war, and combats, but I know also, that you ought not to use it to a man who importunes you for Love, and whose presence angers you. Ah Belesis (said she, and smiled) I must needs make a difference between Belesis & Belesis, (if I may say so) for truly I did infinitely esteem that pleasing stranger who did so much invite my curiosity, the first time I saw him, and whose company was very delightful to me in many entertainments, and pleasant walks. But I must confess that this Belesis now, is not so suitable to my humour as the other was. Provided you will Love either of them (replied he, and smiled as well as she) I will promise the other shall not offend you, or complain against you: Seriously Belesis (said she unto him) can there be any truth in your words? seriously cruel Lady, (replied he) can you doubt it? For indeed Cleodora, if you did not know that I Loved you, than your behaviour to me was unreasonable; and if you did know it, it was unjust and inhuman: Consider therefore with yourself, I conjure you, or to say better, consider me, and force me not into despair. To show you (said she unto him) that I would not absolutely disoblige you, I will make an ingenuous declaration unto you, but I pray you do not put another gloss upon my words then my meaning will bear. Never fear Divine Cleodora, (said he unto her) that I will flatter myself with any thing that you can say unto me; for I look upon my miseries through such glass, as makes them seem greater than they are, and my happiness less. Since so, replied she, I will not fear to tell you, that I do infinitely esteem you; and if I were capable of so much weakness as to love any, it should be you sooner than any other: But for all that, I must tell you, for your good both and my own; it is requisite I loved you but a little: for if I should proceed so far as to tell you that your passion pleaseth me, I should be so much ashamed, that it would make me extremely melancholy: and since melancholy begets vexation, and vexation anger, we should always be quarrelling; therefore to compose things, and that you may not complain of my injustice, I will make a proposition unto you: which is, that you shall Love me much less than you do, and I will Love you a little more than I do; to the end our affections may meet in the medium, and become a more solid and true friendship. When you begin to Love me a little more, replied he, I shall try if I can Love you much less: Oh Belesis, said she, it is you that must begin first and not I. Alas Madam, (replied he, and sighed) If you cannot Love me, when I Love you as much as I can: I doubt you will not Love me at all, if I Love you less. But cruel woman, my affection to you is not in my choice, as it seems yours to me is in yours, for whether you would have me Love you, or not Love you; I shall always love you; not only whether you will or no, but also whether I will or no: yes inhuman heart that you are, you do often make me wish I could not Love; but I cannot drive out of my heart that Passion which tyrannizeth in it. Belesis had many other expressions of his soul, but could not obtain any more from her; yet he thought himself very happy, that he was treated no worse. In the mean time, the rare merits of Belesis, had a most powerful influence upon the heart of Cleodora; yet was it long before she would give him any voluntary testimonies of it: But yet without any design at all, she would often do such things, as let Hermogenes and me know, that she did not hate him: for though ordinarily she seemed very cold in the business, when he did earnestly seek for opportunities of seeing her: yet when it chanced that he was not in any place, where she imagined he would follow her, she would always twitt him with some piece of rallary or other: so that one may say (if it be lawful to say so, of such an amiable person as Cleodora was) that her fantasticalness was the first favour which Belesis received from her: But at last, after a long contest between her lenity, and her severity, she yielded a little, and confessed unto Belesis, that she was well pleased, he could not love her less. It is a hard task to tell how joyful this half despairing Lover was, when he obtained leave to talk of his passion unto Cleodora: the memory of all her rigour was pleasing to him: and though she granted no further favour, then suffering herself to be Loved, yet did he esteem himself the most happy man alive: yet was his happiness not long tranquil; because the more Cleodona, began to love Belesis, the more hard she was to be pleased. If he expressed much love, she would say he was imprudent, to express so many visible marks of his passion; if he offered to hide it, she would chide him for changing, and say he loved her less, If he were pleasant, she would think she had given him too many testimonies of her affection, and would say she repent; if he were sad, she would accuse him for not being sufficiently sensible of her favours, by his expressions of joy: so that whatsoever Belesis could either say or do, there was some exceptions or other still against him, and continual Jars between them. However they knew that they loved and were confident of it, though they would often use such expressions as would make others believe they loved not at all. Yet for all this, Belesis had many pleasant hours; For Cleodora would suffer him to write when he could not see her; and she gave him her picture, so that the unequality of her humours, would move one to say that Roses have always thorns in them, and thorns bear roses. Thus Sr. did Belesis live a long time, whilst Hermogenes and I without any intended designs, did recreate ourselves in the visiting of Ladies with all indifferency that could be: Yet Hermogenes went less to visit Cleodora then any other, to the end (as he said) that his friend might have more opportunities of courting his mistress alone. Things being upon these terms it chanced that a sister of Cleodoras' Aunt died in the Country where she had lived a long time: and having left only one daughter called Leonisa about the age of fifteen years: This young Lady came unto Susa, to dwell with her mother's sister, and consequently in the house with Cleodora. When she came thither Belesis, Hermogenes and I, were gone a journey of eight days before we returned; and then we went to Cleodora, who had already contracted a great friendship with her new-come Cousin: But Sr. we were all wonder when we saw Leonisa: for though we know she was to come to Susa, and had heard say she was very fair, yet we could not choose but be dazzled, at the lustre of her eyes, and purity of her complexion: Nature never gave unto any one such lovely hair, pure colours, sprightly eyes, and handsome mouth: though her stature was not tall, yet it was not low; but so rightly proportioned in all parts and so noble, that she was a delightful wonder; her affability was as admirable as her beauty: the lovely Air of her Aspect was such, that her eyes never took any hearts without giving some hopes of moving hers, though yet as modest as possible could be. Thus Sr. appeared Leonisa, when Belesis first saw her with Cleodora, who presented us all unto her lovely Cousin, whose civility to us appeared as much as she was sprightly and fair. Since Cleodora and Leonisa were of different beauties, envy took no hold of their souls, and they had this advantage, that they did not injure each other, though it must be confessed that Leonisa had more amiable sparks of youth in her face then Cleodora had: though there was but three year's difference in their age. In the mean time, as it is civility to commend all beauties especially the first sight, Hermogenes and I did extremely commend the beauty of Leonisa: Belesis also commended her, but less than we, because it was before his mistress, for my part, since I had no such reason upon me, I did as much as I could extol Leonisa: I asked her whether they had not already written of the death of many of her Lovers about that place from whence she came, whom very grief for her absence must needs kill: For said I unto her, if they were not dead, they would have followed you, and we should have seen them here. I assure you, said she and laughed, if I had as much beauty as to make any lover in the place from whence I came, and to make them follow me hither I should not have brought very good company with me, and therefore it is my happiness that I have made no conquests. But you will make some here and that quickly, replied Hermogenes, and questionless she will not make many inconstant's, added I: fie, fie, said Cleodora, I beseech you, do not presage so many misfortunes unto Leonisa at one time. It seems (said Leonisa very pleasingly and blushed) that I have not yet lived, but came from a savage place where they know not what love is: For I should think it more glorious, to take hearts from other beauties who took them first, then to take such as were never captivated by any. It is mearely ●alice Leonisa replied Cleodora, to say any such thing; and much injustice and vanity also. Did I not tell you, replied Leonisa that I knew not how to argue rightly upon such a subject? yet whatsoever you say, I must needs think that it would be very pleasant. But would you be contented, replied Cleodora, that they should quit you for another? No (answered Leonisa) and because I do fancy how eztreamly vexed I should be if such a thing should chance unto me, therefore I do perfectly fancy the pleasure of causing it to others: If the miseries of others do so delight you (said Belesis who had not yet spoken) I extremely pity those who are destinied to love you; I believe they are so small a number (replied she) as I believe I shall not give you any great subject of compassion. For my part (said Cleodora only for arguments sake with her Cousin) I wish with all my soul that the first heart you captivate may be inconstant and cast off your fetters to punish you for your unjust opinion: I cannot yet repent of it (said Leonisa) for when I consider the pleasures I should take, in rooting the image of another out of the heart of him whom I have captivated, and forced this lover to let me see the picture and letters of his first mistress, and how I should delight in looking upon the one, and reading the other, I assure you it is worth wishing I were so fair as to make some inconstant lover to be my votary: In good earnest (said Cleodora and laughed) you will make me believe you know not what you say: I do confess, I do not, said Leonisa, but I know what will please me: and yet I do not say I will love this inconstant man, whom I would make, for my design is only to laugh and make sport with him when I have made him so. Fie, Fie, fair Leonisa, said Hermogenes, you are now worse than your Cousin thinks you? for why should you desire to gain hearts, unless you were resolved to part with your own? That resolution replied Leonisa, me thinks is too much: and I have so good an opinion of my sex, that I do not think there is one who is so liberal as to part so easily with their heart: yet I must confess said she and smiled, some men will vaunt how they possess the hearts of many fair ones); But certainly they got them surreptitiously, by craft or violence. I assure you, replied Hermogenes which way soever one enjoys yours, he will enjoy a most glorious and heavenly happiness. Though it were so, answered she, yet this heavenly happiness you speak of should cost him some sorrows before he enjoyed it, for I am resolved not to give him the least room in my heart, and therefore far from giving it all unto him; I pray you Leonisa, said Cleodora, do not speak so resolutely, since it is no prudence to triumph before the victory; you never yet heard any Courtship, but only Country compliments, and have all your life been brought up amongst rustiques; and yet you are as confident of yourself, as if you had made all the gallants of Susa, bow knees unto your beauty, and as if you scorned them all: Believe me Leonisa it is no discretion to have so good an opinion of your own strength, and I have known some as well conceited as yourself, who slighting their enemies, are sometimes overcome, therefore do not brag that you are invincible: when you have been a year or two at Court, and when your beauty hath made an infinite number of slaves who have cast off their first Mistresses to enter into your fetters, and when you have defended yourself against them all, we will then all owe you to speak thus boldly, but till then, I must tell you I cannot endure it. 'Tis better for me to say nothing replied Leonisa, then to dispute against you. Then, after a while of some other discourse, Belesis, Hermogenes & I, took our leaves, being all very well pleased with the beauty and wit of Leonisa, and concluding her to be the only star of the Court or Town. Belesis yet, did hardly consent unto this so clearly as we did, and only said that if Leonisa had not a colen in Susa, she had clearly transcended all that was amiable. In the meantime, since he could never see Cleodora, but he must see Leonisa also, because they dwelled both in one house, therefore he saw her every day: and as Leonisa was one of those beauties which the more one looks the more one likes; so Belesis seeing her more than any other, did esteem her more than any, though she was generally esteemed of all: Leonisa also was more civil and complacential unto Belesis than she was to any other, not only because his merits did excel others, but also because she observed that her Aunt and Cleodora esteemed him very much; so that Belesis finding her to be of a very sweet and affable condition, used to seek for some comfort in her company, when Cleodora did at any time frown upon him, and so it chanced, that Leonisa against her will caused a quarrel to rise between them: For as her beauty was all the talk of the Town, she attracted abundance of gallants about her, and also some others that were not over well accomplished: so that Cleodora who was used only unto very choice company, grew weary of such a misclelany of many men, and her complacency to them was very cold: she told Leonisa divers times of it: but she not being of her Cousin's humour, and being something younger than she, she could not find in her heart to banish any that came unto her; and seemed to esteem her: so that she told Cleodora, that she could not be uncivil unto any, and more than that, she ought not to take so much upon her in a house where she is rather to obey their command: Cleodora durst not speak of it unto her Aunt, because she knew it would not please her that she should be of any smch critical humour: and therefore not knowing what course to take, she entreated Belesis one day (since she observed there was a great confidence between Leonisa and him) that he would tell her, that her universal civility did much offend her: and, if she answer you (said she unto him) that she does not love to disoblige any one, tell her that in all reason she ought rather to oblige some one complete gallant to esteem her and not show such equal civility unto all that come to see her: As Cleodora said so, and thinking none did hear her but Belesis, Leonisa was unknown in a closet, and came unto them laughing, and addressed herself extreme sweetly unto Cleodora: I beseech you, said she, do not condemn me, before I may answer for myself: Cleodora perceiving that Leonisa had heard what she said, seemed as if she knew that she was in the closet, and spoke purposely that she might understand her: In the mean time I will seriously tell you Leonisa before Belesis (said she) who knows the world very well: that there are two sorts of people, who without any choice use to affect a multitude which thus daily flock about you: I pray tell me, said Leonisa, in which Catalogue you rank me, and who are those two sorts of people, which so affect that which I must confess I do not hate? They are, replied Cleodora, either Country people newly come to town, or else they are light headed huswives which love tattling. Surely, said Leonisa, I am not of this last number; I confess it, said Cleodora, for if you be, you would make me much to wonder; yet I must-say thus much for you, that you smell not at all of the country unless in this humour: But Cleodora, said Leonisa, is it not an undeniable maxim, that civility ought to be showed unto all in general? and is it not by esteem only, that one ought to put a difference between those men we see? No, said Cleodora, for which way can one express esteem but by civility, when one would distinguish one of excellent qualities from others? you know it is not handsome to give men tender and obliging language. The word friendship is something too hard to pronounce; and it is dangerous to use it in speaking unto young and Courtly Gallants; and the truth is a man must give a thousand testimonies of his wisdom, or else do some very considerable piece of service, before it will be handsome to be tender and affectionate to him: after this, consider Leonisa, whether you be not too prodigal of your civility, unless it be showed only unto such men as really esteem you: I shall be very reserved in my favours and my esteem, replied Leonisa, and be prodigal only of a thousand trivial passages and behaviours which indeed are nothing else but common civility, your praises and commendations and esteem, replied Cleodora, are certainly of an inestimable value; But Leonisa, It is men only that must handsomely give commendations so frequently, when they speak unto Ladies, and surely you never told Belesis since you saw him, that you think him very handsome, that his wit doth infinitely please you, and that his company charms you; Alas Madam, said Belesis, I beseech you do not Jeer me in your disputes, for it is not I who causeth the fair eyes of Leonisa to attract so much company that troubles you, I pray you said Leonisa to Belesis, let me answer Cleodora myself; I pray answer then directly, replied she; so I will replied Leonisa, and therefore I will confess I never spoke any such thing unto Belesis as you mention; yet I assure you, that ma●gre this universal civility wherewith you upbraid me, Belesis hath observed that I put a great difference between him and many others: speak Belesis, said Cleodora, does Leonisa say truth? have you perceived that esteem which she had of you from that which she had unto any else? Belesis was now much put to it; for he was unwilling to disoblige Leonisa, and fearful to anger Cleodora; so that carrying a level hand between them both, I have so little right unto fair Leonisas' esteem, replied he, that I cannot imagine how she should put any difference between me and the lowest rank of qualified men: But as I am oft apt to flatter myself, and to believe things which I desire, I must confess I have observed some land of civility used more obligingly unto me then unto some others to whom she hath done more reverence; so admirably well doth she know the art of obliging by little things. Believe not Belesis (said Cleodora unto Leonisa) since I assure you, he is no lover of multitudes; and certainly he hath good reason for it; So have you Leonisa; for what can you do with so many men? you cannot marry them all; You would not be thought a Tatler, you cannot esteem them all, and therefore how can you endure them all? Nothing is more sweet unto me, replied Leonisa, then to think that none doth hate me, but that every one on the contrary should esteem and commend me. Ala● Leonisa (said Cleodora) what extreme folly in it to say so? for what good will the esteem of a thousand men do you, when you esteem not them; and believe it, Dear Leonisa, it is very well if one can live so as none shall hate them, with affecting that all the world should love them; I do confess, that one ought to do all the good they can, and not to let a person drown for want of a hand lent to help him out. Yet for all this, one must love for themselves and their friends, and not altogether for the public; The fittest places for expressions of civility is in the Temples, in the walks, and in the streets; but in my chamber, if my coldness to those that trouble me would not drive them away, I should be then uncivil and perhaps go a little further sometimes, to rid myself of some such men as I know; And certainly all this, not without good reason, for one dull fellow may hinder me from enjoying the conversation of the compleatest man in the world. And truly I have so nice a spirit, that I cannot endure this kind of complacency, which will not purchase one real friend in a thousand years: 'tis very true, said Leonisa, that perhaps I have fewer friends than you, but perhaps I can brag of having fewer enemies: and do you not consider it is a hard matter to find a man who will not think you of too mysterious and private a spirit? how many have you disobliged by not speaking to them, or by speaking too much unto some whom you affect more than them. I know not what you say, replied Cleodora, but I pray take notice that the scorn or hatred of some men moves me not at all: nor do I value the blast of vulgar popularity more than an unconstant puff of wind. I care not for the esteem of the giddy multitude; when I began the world, and set laws unto my life, I resolved never to do any thing which would draw odium upon myself: But I never resolved to trouble myself so much as to get the love of all the world: but on the contrary I am very desirous of the love of a very few, because I think a very few are worthy of reciprocal Returns: moreover I consider that one single person cannot possibly love many men; And true happiness is to live with one they loves, and to shun the sight of those they loves not. These Leonisa are my maxims, which never will be yours unless you change your humour. To testify unto you, said Leonisa, how much I value your judgement, I do profess, that I would absolutely live as you would have me; I beseech you Madam after this (said Belesis unto Cleodora) do not chide Leonisa any more; For ought I see (said Cleodora unto him) you are very much devoted unto her, and would not any think who hear you speak, that I am in the greatest wrong in the world, and that Leonisa is in the right? you, I say, who have told me a thousand times that a multitude was as odious to you, as the company of one qualified person was pleasant: and that the conversation of above three or four at the most, was ever troublesome to you; and yet you have not put in one word to strengthen my side, but your silence hath so fortified Leonisa's, that she thinks in her heart your silence was only out of discretion, and because you had no mind to condemn me. Madam, (said he unto her) seeing Leonisa submits unto you, I think you intent to pick a new quarrel with me, for I did not think it just to meddle in a business wherein I had no interest, when one comes into a place (Replied she with a scornful smile) where the person who talks is not suitable to their liking, it is an easy matter to make excuses and pretend business to decline the company. And Leonisa, be not deluded, for most of the men who come unto those houses which are as public as the Temples, and frequent them, more do come only for their own ends; if it be winter, they seek out warm chambers; if summer, cool rooms; they are choice in their very seats; some talk of riding horses, others of some business: some not knowing whither to go, are there out of necessity; and perhaps of a hundred men that frequent these houses, there is not one has any honourable design; For my part, I who do not desire men should seek me, I hate that kind of life, and therefore (said she in rising up) lest my company and discourse should seem too long unto you both; I will go unto my chamber, where none but such as please me enters, by that reason, said Leonisa, I hope Belesis and I may follow you. I am infinitely obliged unto you (said Belesis unto Leonisa) for speaking so advantageous for me: but I am afraid Cleodora will hardly consent unto part of your motion; I shall consent unto less than you imagine (said she) for I will not consent unto any part of it, since in the angry humour I am in, neither shall I please you, nor you me; in saying so, she went away and pulled the chamber door after her, seeming by that action, she would not have Leonisa nor Belesis follow her; yet had they followed her notwithstanding, if at the very same time they opened the door to go after her, abundance of company had not come in, which hindered Leonisa from executing her intended design; However Belesis left her, and went to Cleodoras' chamber, but in his way thither he met the Prince of Susa coming to see Leonisa, and would by all means have him back, telling him he had some business with him: the respect Belesis owed unto this Prince, who was naturally of a very violent temper, moved him to obey; so that he went with him into Leonisas' chamber again; yet he stayed not above half an hour there, for as soon as he saw a fit opportunity, he stole away and went to Cleodora; but he could not meet with her; for since she saw Belesis did not follow, not knowing the true reason, she went out at a back way to visit some of her friends which dwelled not far off, purposely that when Belesis came to her chamber he should not find her there. He was so well acquainted with her, that he made no question but she went out of spite to him; in the mean time, I know not what temper his soul was in that day, but had not the same resentments he was wont to have when Cleodora was in her fantastical humours, for commonly he was always very sad, and was never at quiet in his mind till he had made his peace with her: but now, in lieu of sorrows, he was all anger, and resolved to express as much unto her the next time he saw her; And since so, it is no wonder if these two incensed parties had a sharp and twitting conference the next morning when they met. Yet for all this, Belesis did not give Cleodora any disrespective language, but he was nothing so obsequious as at other times to appease her: All his discourse tended to his own justification, but never used any Prayers nor Conjurations, nor sighs: since Cleodora was not used unto such compliments from him, she was so far from accepting of his justifications, that she accused him of cold hollow heartedness; so that this little squabble, grew to be an earnest falling out: and they parted upon such terms that for many days Belesis durst not see Cleodora, and perhaps had no great mind to it. However, chance at last brought him to see her, and to speak to her: so that it seems love was resolved to torment Belesis more than ever any man which knew his power, and caused the sweetness of this Lady, whose heart was already much moved, to be now absolutely charmed, and much increased towards Belesis. Yet notwithstanding, thus much may be said in excuse of Belesis, that his vexation, to see he could never find the affection of Cleodora to be solid and certain, was one of the main causes of his love to Leonisa. However it was most certain he loved her, and so excessively that his love to her increased, and to Cleodora lessened. At first, he did not think he was in love with Leonisa, but thought that he was only angry with Cleodora: But he began by degrees to fear that Cleodora would not be appeased, and that he was disobliged from seeing her as her servant: yet was he in a great strait what to resolve upon, for if he did not reconcile himself to Cleodora, he could not see Leonisa: And he considered further, that admit he did reconcile himself, than it would be a piece of difficulty to make Leonisa believe he loved her: Also he was extremely ashamed of his inconstancy, and that he should so delude one whom he had so much loved, and whom yet he esteemed, maugre his new passion: yet Cleodora continued so violent against him, that though he knew his crime, yet he could not repent of it. But what troubles and sorrows soever his soul had, he never acquainted Hermogenes or me with his new love, but only complained against the fantasticalness of Cleodora: in the mean time, this Lady whose heart was really affectionate unto Belesis, repent of what she had done, and seeing he fell off from his accustomed Courtship, as fierce as she was, she resolved upon the first opportunity to reduce him. And going one day with her Aunt unto the Queen without Leonisa, by chance she met him: as soon as she saw him, she had a great mind to speak unto him, yet she could not find in her heart to use her tongue, thinking it enough if she looked upon him without anger, and to answer him mildly if he spoke unto her. On the other side, Belesis was in such a dump that he neither knew what to do or say: for the very sight of Cleodora did make him so much ashamed of his weakness, that one while he resolved to carry himself as if he loved none but her: (this said he to himself) is perhaps more than I can do, and perhaps more than I ought, since it is not Just to make her and myself miserable by telling Cleodora I love only her, when as I am ready to die for the love of Leonisa: but how can I break off her chains who has expressed a thousand testimonies of her affection to me, and whose very fantastical humours are signs of it? how dare I ever let her know that I am inconstant? how can I continually counterfeit? and what fruit can I hope for from my dissimulation? yet however, whether I resolve to devote my heart unto Cleodora, and chase Leonisa out of it; or whether I will court Leonisa and cast off Cleodora, I must at this present apply myself to the last of these; for if I would have her take her first possession of my heart, I must approach her fair eyes, that they may kindle the flame which so long burned in my soul: and if on the contrary, I desire to be inflamed by the glorious light of Leonisa's eyes, yet still I must keep fair with Cleodora, since I cannot see the one without the other. Thus Belesis not knowing whether he should be inconstant or no; whether he should appease Cleodora or deceive her, he accosted her with such strange confusion as had a great operation upon the heart of that Lady, who was ignorant of the cause, but attributed the alterations in his face unto his repentance. He asked her in a trembling posture, whether her anger was yet over? It is so long since you spoke unto me, said she and smiled, that it were but just in me if I told you, it continued still: But Belesis, the manner of your ask makes me believe, that I ought not to tell you so, and therefore I do declare unto you, that I do with all my heart pardon all that is past. Oh Madam (said Belesis unto her and blushed) you are all goodness if you do not punish me. If you had spoke thus, replied she, at the beginning of our quarrel, it had not lasted so long: but the worst of it was (continued she and laughed) that we were both of us very humorous at once: therefore, I pray you, let us hereafter be so one after another; or if you please, let us not be so at all: and the sooner to oblige you unto it, I promise you to do my best in correcting myself: I leave you to judge Sir, in what a perplexed condition Belesis was: Then did he begin to renew his love unto Cledora, but it lasted not long, for as he waited upon her home, and there saw Leonisa, all was quashed again: and Leonisa seeing him come with her Cousin, came unto her to rejoice that she had brought Belesis with her, and gave him such obliging language, as quite damped all his intentions of continuing constant to Cleodora.  
After this Belesis became so unquiet and reserved, that he was not knowable. All this while, he spoke not a word of his love to Leonisa, but addressed himself wholly to Cleodora, as if he yet loved her, yet with so much regret, that he was forced every day to colour the matter with some handsome invented lies: Sometimes he would say, he had received news of his father's being sick: sometimes again he would say, he was ill himself; and sometimes not knowing what to say, he would put poor Cleodora in a miserable dump: for since she did really love Belesis, and considered she was ready to lose him in a fantastical humour, she gave him now no cause of complaint, but was as complacential as could be: and yet she saw he was as much out of tune as when she was the contrary. This being the state of things, Hermogenes with whom Belesis lodged, observed that now he was nothing so careful of Cleodora's letters as he was wont, for he found two or three of them upon the Table, lying loose and open; whereas before his inconstancy, he would never part with them out of his hands when he showed them unto him, but would always read them himself unto Hermogenes: Also, Hermogenes found the Picture of this Beauty, which he had lost, but did not restore it until three or four days after, and all this while Belesis never miss it, which was quite contrary to his custom; for when he loved Cleodora, he used to look upon it every quarter of an hour: The greatest wonder to Hermogenes was, that he saw Cleodora did never treat Belesis so kindly as now, and yet Belesis was more melancholy than when she was most rigorous. Hermogenes having an extreme desire to know the cause of so great an alteration in his friend, he came unto him one morning to restore Cleodora's picture. But, as he would not speak of it seriously at the first, the better to discover his real thoughts; so he began thus; If the virtue of Cleodora (said he unto him and restoring the Picture) were less known unto me than it is, I should think you had secretly married her, without either the consent of her friends or yours: for as it is the custom of many Lovers, to slight all the trifling favours which their mistress gave them, when once they enjoy themselves: so I should think, that since you lost Cleodora's picture, and did not miss it three days together, and since you are grown more careless of her Letters then usual, that you enjoy so much happiness in the substance, that you need no shadows, or pictures, or letters to comfort you: 'Tis true, I perceive you so melancholy, that it is evident you are not contented: And therefore since I cannot dive into the bottom of your heart, I conjure you to tell me, whether I must rejoice or grieve with you; and if you will not open your thoughts unto me, I will ask Cleodora of them, who as I think, should know them. Oh I beseech you Hermogenes, said Belesis, do not tell Cleodora how I lost her picture, and never miss it, nor how I left her letters so carelessly that they might be seen: Then tell me, said Hermogenes, from whence comes this alteration in your humour? Is it not enough you know the humour of Cleodora, replied he, without ask any further reasons? The humour of Cleodora, replied Hermogenes, is now so sweet, and complacential towards you, that Leonis'● cannot be more affable to all the world, than Cleodora's to you. Ah, Hermogenes, (said this inconstant Lover, being transported by the excess of his new passion) I would to the gods, Cleodora's humour had always been like Leonisa's: Like Leonisa's, I say, upon whose face I never yet since I knew her, saw the least wrinkle of anger, and whose fair eyes are like unclouded stars, which shine always alike, without one cloud of anger. I should have thought (replied Hermogenes, looking earnestly upon Belesis) that a Lover had never thought any eyes fair, but only his Mistresses, but for aught I perceive Leonisa's eyes please you as well Cleodora's. Belesis blushed at the language of his friend, and let him apparently see there was a great alteration in his soul; so that Hermogenes went on; Confess the truth to a friend (said he unto him) and tell me freely, whether Leonisa is not more in your heart then Cleodora: and whether if she have not already driven her out; she will ere long 'tis true, replied Belesis; But cruel friend, what delight can you take in maksng me to lay open my imperfections? However, (replied Hermogenes) than you do love Leonisa, and not Cleodora? I know not (answered he) whether I do not love Cleodora, but I am sure I am desperately in love with Leonisa: Then doubtless you do not love Cleodora, answered he, for one cannot love two at once. However, I must needs chide you, for truly Inconstancy is an unexcusable crime, unless it be caused through the infidelity, or excessive severity of a mistress. But the case is far otherwise with you, for you cannot tax Cleodora with any infidelity, nor is she more severe than virtue and decency require. I know very well that I am culpable, though I could find some excuse for my crime, if I would: for indeed Cleodora, hath quarrelled with me without any cause in the earth, and hath so tired out my patience, that my passion is much weakened whether I would or no: Yet the gods are my witness, that I have endeavoured with all my possible power to reject Leonisa, and keep my heart wholly for Cleodora; but alas all was impossible, all too too weak; for all my desires, all my thoughts and faculties have changed objects: I do not see Cleodora with the same eyes I did, and by a fatal enchantment, that which I once thought would be my chief felicity, will not now afford me one quarter of an hours joy: what then would you have me do? Can I alter my destiny? Can I dictate rules unto my fate? and make love an act of my will? I know that Cleodora has a million of most excellent qualities, and that she is most admirably fair; But I find Leonisa has pulled my heart out of her hands, and made me change Mistresses: I am most horribly ashamed of my inconstancy I confess, but I cannot keep myself from changing; therefore I beseech you Hermogenes pity me, in lieu of condemning me, second me in my affection to Leonisa; you, I say, who first brought me to Susa, and is the cause of all my miseries: and could ever lover be more miserable than I? For it was my fate to love a Lady of a difficult and fantastical humour; I endured as much as patience herself could do, to the end I might obtain her love; and when in all likelihood I was arrived even at the very Port of my happiness, my angry fate would needs prompt me to cease my desires of enjoying Cleodora: All the time and pains which I employed in getting the affection of this Lady, whom I thought would have completed my felicity, is quite, absolutely, entirely lost: since her affection makes me only more culpable, and more miserable; and since I must fatally begin my sighs and prayers for another, against all which I know no remedy: therefore my dear Hermogenes, once more let me entreat your assistance. I beseech you first, said Hermogenes, upon what terms are you with Cleodora and Leonisa? Cleodora, replied Belesis, thinks I love her still; and as for Leonisa, I have not yet spoke a word unto her, only in the language of eyes, and yet I imagine by her looks she understands me: How, replied Hermogenes, does Leonisa understandthat language, and answer it? I do not think she understands me, replied Belesis, because she answers, but because she is very careful not to answer. But Belesis, replied Hermogenes, dare you ever speak of any love unto Leonisa? do you not fear she will upbraid you with inconstancy? and can you have the confidence to tell Leonisa you love her, in the sight of Cleodora? for my part Belesis, I wonder how you can have such a thought: If Cleodora lived at the other end of the Town, the matter would not be so difficult: but to love one Lady really, and to dissemble love unto another in the same house, and another who really loves you, is a thing so strange, that I see no possibility of doing any good in it: For Belesis, you cannot possibly delude Cleodora long: indeed I do not think it impossible but one may persuade a Lady that he loves her, though he do not, provided he does not really love any other: but to love another really, and to persuade a Lady whom he formerly really loved, that he loves her still, cannot sink into my belief. I see all these difficulties which you propound, replied Belesis, and conceive them to be as great and greater than they are: But since my tyrannical passion triumphs over all opposition, I must delude Cleodora, notwithstanding my secret repugnancy, since otherwise I cannot see Leonisa: I intent therefore (if I can speak it without blushing for shame) to continue my visits unto Cleodora, and to live with her as if I loved her still; unless at such times as when I can look upon Leonisa and Cleodora not see, and talk to her when she cannot hear. I have already told you, replied Hermogenes, that you cannot do this: and I am the most mistaken man in the world if Cleodora be not undeceived once in eight days, and if you do not lose both Cleodora and Leonisa at once. After this, Belesis began to walk about the chamber with the greatest agitation of spirit in the world: and afterwards addressing himself to Hermogenes; My dear friend, said he unto him, if you would do me one favour which I am thinking upon, I should owe my life and all my felicity unto you. Tell me what it is, replied Hermogenes, that I may consider whether I can and aught to do it: for your reason I perceive is so blinded, that I dare not trust you: I would have you, replied he, fain a love unto Cleodora, and become my Rival, which you may easily do; and it is not impossible but you may persuade her to believe you, and therefore I conjure you dear Hermogenes to persuade Cleodora that you are her lover. But what advantage can you draw from this dissimulation? replied Hermogenes: My plot is, replied Belesis, that you shall make Cleodora inconstant, as Leonisa hath made me: or at least that you may give a colour unto my inconstancy, and by living in that manner with her as I may have some ground to accuse her of inconstancy, and that I may upbraid her with her change, as well as she me, with mine. Believe me Belesis, (replied Hermogenes) I shall never make Cleodora inconstant; all that I shall be able to do is to give you some colour of falling out. But if she prove more faithful than ever unto you, and all my endeavours cannot shake her constancy, you will then be more in fault. I do confess it, replied Belesis, but I cannot cease, being less miserable: It will suffice if your company with her will give me a colourable quarrel against her, and that I may hereafter say, than the beginning of my love to Leonisa, was from my belief that she was persidious● whilst you are speaking to Cleodora, I shall sometimes have opportunity of speaking with Leonisa, and therefore I must say, that upon you and your assistance depends all my hopes. I must needs confess, said Hermogenes, that I owe you all service; But I must needs confess also, that I am extremely unwilling to do you this office which you desire. But Belesis was so exceedingly urgent with him, that he undertook is: and for the handsomer carriage of the business, he did not at first speak of his dissembled passion, but only went to see her after their ordinary, and to court her much more than he did Leonisa: But the rarest passage was to see with what zeal Belesis wished Cleodora might use Hermogenes kindly, that he might have the better ground of a quarrel: In the mean time, be pleased to know, that though there was a very good correspondency between Cleodora and Leonisa, yet there was no such strict league of confidence between them, as to impart all matters unto each other: so that Cleodora never acquainted Leonisa with any passages betwixt her and Belesis, nor did ever any tell Leonisa that Cleodora did not hate him: she saw that they were kind unto each other, but she thought it was only matter of friendship, and never suspected any matter of love between them: Being then in this opinion, upon a day when the sister of Hermogenes was with her, between whom there was an intimate affection, and 〈◊〉 infinitely esteeming Belesis, she began to speak unto Prassilla concerning him, as into her that was sister to his best friend: At first, she enquired of his house, of his hindered, of his estate, of his travels, of the friendship between Hermogenes and him, and of a hundred other things, which expressed her curiosity of every thing which related unto Belesis After Prassilla had made an exact return unto all her Questions, and saw that 〈◊〉 prepared to inquire further, I beseech you tell me (said Prassilla and 〈◊〉) why you have such a mind to speak of Belesis, and what's the reason you would so exactly know every circumstance which concerns him? is it love, or only curiosity? I cannot resolve you, (replied Leonisa in rallary) whether it be Curiosity or Love, but I am sure it is not out of any hate to him that I inquire: nor is it credible it should be love, (replied Prasilla) though I asked the question, for you have more reason then to love one who cannot love you again, and you are wiser also then to make any conquest in prejudice of Cleodora, who would never Pardon you: is Belesis then in love with Cleodora (replied Leonisa, and blushed) I think he hath loved her so long, replied Prasilla, that it will not be doubted, and you are the only one in all Susa, who is ignorant of it: But Leonisa, how comes it to pass that you change Colour, when I tell you Belesis is in love with Cleodora? The reason is, (replied Leonisa, and blushed more, not having time to think of an answer) because I thought he was in love with another: and with whom? (asked Prasilla): you have so twitted me with my Curiosity (replied she) that I will not satisfy yours. Yet truly I would gladly know with whom you thought Belesis in love: I am so vexed to be thus deceived in my judgement (replied Leonisa) that I will die rather than tell you. Then will I never tell you any thing you desire to know (answered Prasilla); yet replied Leonisa, I do exceedingly desire to know more Passages Concerning Belesis and Cleodora: I know a thousand (replied Prasilla) but I will not tell you one, unless you will tell me first, with whom you imagined Belesis in Love: Since you will needs know (said Leonisa to her) I thought him to be in Love with you: fie, fie Leonisa (cried Prasilla) you are not sincere; do you think me such a fool, as to think you say truly: No, no, I am not so easily deluded, but to punish you for it, I shall tell you what you would not confess unto me: Be sure you guess truly, said Leonisa, and laughed, else I shall never Pardon you, especially since I am deceived myself, and would be revenged upon Belesis. Thus Sr. these two amiable Ladies, did understand each other without any direct telling; and thus did Leonisa first understand of any passages between Belesis, and Cleodora. However, the eyes of Belesis, had told her such things, as she knew not whether she should give more credit to the words of Prasilla or the looks of Belesis, yet she resolved to carry herself more coldly to him, as if she were desirous to punish him, because he was the subject of her discourse with Prasilla, which was not at all agreeable to her mind: you may well imagine Sr. after this which I shall tell you, that these four Persons were not without something to do: For Cleodora was very busy to discover from whence the melancholy of Belesis should proceed: And Belesis had enough to do, in deluding Cleodora, and endeavouring to find out ways to discover his Love unto Leonisa. Hermogenes, having undertaken to dissemble Love, was not without his cares: and Leonisa being desirous to discover exactly the thoughts of Belesis, had such a kind of unquiet Curiosity, as it cannot be otherwise named: When Hermogenes did begin to frequent Cleodora, after their ordinary manner, She made him a hundred welcomes, thinking thereby, more to oblige Belesis then Hermogenes, and imagining that his coming was only to do some good office for his friend: and never dreamt of the matter as it was● Some days passed thus on, and none of these Parties found any great augmentation of sorrows: Belesis yet had his choice, for when he was alone with Cleodora, he could speak unto none but her, and when he was with Leonisa and her, he was so amazedly confounded, that he was not able to help out with Conversation. unless in things indifferent. In the mean time, Hermogenes to content his friend, did so accustom himself to speak to Cleodora, that he left much time unto Belesis to talk with Leonisa: yet this did exceedingly perplex Cleodora: for believing that Hermogenes was of Belesis his intelligence, she could not comprehend, why he should not give place to Belesis to talk unto her and why he should always talk to her himself, yet at last she imagined, that perhaps Hermogenes was in Love with Leonisa, and had desired Belesis to speak to his advantage, but still she thought strange Belesis should never talk with her: But what conveniency soever Belesis had to talk with Leonisa, by reason of Hermogenes his holding Cleodora in hand: yet he had not confidence enough to discover his Passion to her, in the presence of one whom he had formerly loved so well, and one who loved him, and therefore he sought for an opportunity of seeing her, when Cleodora was not present. He never could find her without Hermogenes, who at the last, was no less desirous to talk with Cleodora in private as Belesis was to talk with Leonisa: For Sr. be pleased to know, that since Hermogenes was more Conversant with Cleodora than he used to be, he discovered so many charms and rich beauties in her mind, that never any appeared more amiable in the eye of his Fancy, and he hath told me a hundred times, that whosoever does not see her in this free humour of familiarity which she useth to her real friends, cannot see half her beauty; nor can imagine the power of her charms. Hermogenes discovering a thousand fresh Graces, and as many rare Qualities in the spirit and heart of Cleodora, which he was ignorant of before, was wounded a fresh with the darts of her fair eyes, and fell insensibly to Love her; at first he could not think it to be Love: for he did nothing else but blame Belesis for quitting Cleodora, and addressing himself unto Leonisa. But by degrees he left of telling his friend of his inconstancy, and fell so desperately in Love with this Lady, as Belesis never loved her or Leonisa more. Yet he did not acquaint his friend with his growing Passion, though he knew not why he should make a secret of it, unless because, Love in its own nature is a mystery, and Love's secrecy, he never strove against this Powerful affection which took root in his heart: For although he knew the heart of Cleodora was a little engaged to Belesis, yet he hoped that when he she knew his inconstancy, she would disengage herself, and then he might perhaps possess that place in her soul which Belesis had made himself unworthy of. Hermogenes then having these thoughts, did visit Cleodora with such assiduity, that Belesis not knowing the thoughts of his heart, did always when they were together, ask him pardon for the trouble which he constrained himself unto, for his sake. But at last, hoping for some fruit of the plot, which he had invented, Belesis seemed to grow something jealous of Hermogenes, and did so negotiate with Cleodora, that he persuaded her she was deceived, if she thought he talked unto Leonisa in behalf of Hermogenes: for by some passages which he told her, she thought he talked with her, only to spite her. At the first, since she imagined this odd and jealous proceeding of Belesis, was an argument of his love to her, she was not offended with him, and so much less, because not suspecting any thing of the love of Hermogenes, she imagined it would be an easy matter to cure Belesis of his jealousy when she would, by desiring his friend not to apply himself so much unto discourse with her, so that taking a kind of delight to torment Belesis for a few days, she never troubled herself to remove that belief out of him which she thought he had, so that this did facilitate unto Belesis the design which he had to discover his passion unto Leonisa. One day then when they were all four together in Leonisas' chamber, which she kept, not being very well, Cleodora to vex Belesis, asked Hermogenes, if he would go with her upon a visit which she intended to make, Leonisa hearing her say so, began to complain for leaving her, and threatening to use her with the like indifferency if ever she were sick: But Cleodora told her that she left her such good company as she had no reason to grudge hers. Belesis ravished with this, though heretofore he would have desired her presence, told her, that she might judge others by herself, who in carrying away Hermogenes would not regreat those she left with her. After which Cleodora and Hermogenes going out, Belesis remained alone with Leonisa, who knew not what to think of this passage: for if she remembered what Prasilla told her, she should believe Belesis Loved Cleodora; and that this was only a trick to hide his passion: but when she considered all his actions, she believed he Loved her and not Cleodora. Yet not knowing what to think, nor daring to wish any thing, she turned towards Belesis, and looking upon him with a crafty smile, I do extremely pity you Belesis, (said she unto him) that Cleodoras' severity should engage you thus in a company, which cannot Countervail the loss of hers: I beseech you Madam (said he unto her) if you will pity me, let it be because I have sought for an opportunity of speaking to you in private, and could never meet with it till now: we have been so continually Conversant, replied Leonisa, that I cannot think you have any thing to speak of, more than you have already told me; for have I not seen you every day, since you came to Susa? 'tis true, replied Belesis, I have seen you every day and the reason was, because I would speak with you in private: for Divine Leonisa, had I seen you seldom, perhap's I should not have observed all the Riches of your mind, but should doubtless have been less in Love with you then I am. Fie Belesis, (cried Leonisa) I thought you would have spoken seriously, but I see you deceive me: No, no Madam replied he, you cannot imagine I will jest upon such a subject as this, and it is so certainly true, that I am in love with the fair Leonisa, that it is not possible she should doubt it. Since there is a kind of Raillary, said Leonisa, whose subtlety consists in seeming to speak in earnest, I shall think that yours is now of that nature. But Belesis, that which Puzzles me most, is, that I cannot imagine what good it will do you, unless you would thereby blind me from knowing you are in Love with Cleodora: but that you may not use your Language in vain by offering to persuade me you Love her not, know Belesis that I do know you have Loved her ever since the first day you came to Susa. I must confess with some shame, replied Belesis, that I did Love Cleodora: but that you may know the end of my passion, as well as the beginning of it, I beseech you know, that as I began to Love Cleodora the first day I came to Susa, so I ceased to love her the first day you came hither, and when I had the honour first to see you: Ah Belesis, cried she, doubtless you remember how I told you that day, I should take great delight in making men inconstant, and to pull their hearts out of the hands of those who had subjected them; and certainly you do this to jeer me for this folly which I expressed unawares: No (replied he, with a most ser ious Countenance) it is because you have really made me inconstant unto Cleodora, and more constant than any man alive unto the Fair Leonisa. Inconstancy, answered she, isof such a nature, as those that are once capable of it, will be so for ever: No, (replied Belesis) not when it has reason, not humour, for it is foundation, and when the person one forsakes, is less fair, and less accomplished than the person whom one chooseth. However, replied Leonisa, before I give any farther ear unto you, you must give me leave to inform myself very throughly, whether I am fairer and more accomplished, than any in all Susa; For Belesis, if I find it not so, but that there are an infinite number in Susa more amiable than I, I were a fool if I accepted of your affection this day, to lose it to morrow: Cruel woman, (said he unto her) I beseech you do not treat me so rigorously, but consider, that since I love you more than I love Cleodora, I shall never love any but Leonisa: since in pulling my heart out of her hands, you must needs have such a power, which none can ever surmount. However it be, replied she, I must needs tell you, that if what you say be true, you will be a most miserable man, since I will do all I can to punish you for your inconstancy, in forsaking Cleodora; However, said he unto her, I beseech you refuse not to give credit unto my words: I will refuse all that you can ask, replied she: How, replied Belesis, can I think you will not believe me? and can I imagine that though you did believe me, yet you would be always inexorable? Doubtless you may, answered she, for I am most fully resolved, never to give you the least hopes, that I can take any delight in being loved. How Leonisa said he, will you refuse me every thing I shall desire? will you not allow me the least hope? as for hope, replied she, perhaps I cannot take it from you: 'tis true, answered Belesis, but it is in your power to give it; Since you can find it in yourself, replied Leonisa, you need not seek for it from another: I most humbly beseech you, do not absolutely deny me all things; but do only one thing for me; and to the end you may grant it willingly, I do profess unto you, that the thing which I shall ask, cannot be called a favour: upon that condition, replied she, I give you leave to speak what you will. After this, replied Belesis, I shall not fear to beseech you that you will believe as often as I speak unto Cleodora, I have a zealous desire to speak unto Leonisa: and that all the testimonies of affection which I render unto her, out of fear she should banish me from you, are so many testimonies of that violent passion, which I bear to the fair Leonisa. Do you not call this a favour? (replied she and laughed) No, said he, but only a means how to obtain it: I pray, replied she, what greater favour can one do then to hear you? to hear, replied Belesis, is certainly only a Civility: but to love is the real favour; It being so, replied Leonisa, you will do very well and wisely never to hope for any favour from me: for Belesis; I do tell you truly, it were a fond vanity in me, if I should offer to take any Lover from Cleodora: and indeed (if I may speak so of a man, who hath spoken so placentially unto me) I think of inconstancy, and inconstant men, as I do of Treason and Traitors: it is your part (addedshe, and smiled to take off some part of the wormwood in her words) to make interpretation of what I say: I perceive Madam replied he, that you would have me think you Love inconstancy, and hate the inconstant men; In the mean time, it is not very just me thinks to treat me more Cruelly than a Lover, who never loved any besides you, and who never quitted any other for you. But Madam, if you consider, what I lose for the love of you, I am confident you will confess, that your beauty did never produce greater effects of its power, then in Captivating my heart: as Leonisa was ready to answer, much company came in, so that the conference ended; Belesis not knowing whether or no, Leonisa believed what he said unto her. Yet his hope was, that hereafter she would be more observant of his actions, and by consequence would better perceive his Love to her: All this while, Hermogenes who was gone with Cleodora upon a visit, having not found her whom they went unto, brought her back into her own chamber, having no will to go into Leonisa's: so that finding a free opportunity of speaking to her, his passion did so spur him to acquaint Cleodora with his sufferings for her, that he resolved upon it, yet he could not find fit words wherewith to express himself as he desired: And I think if Cleodora, not thinking of it, had not furnished him with an occasion to discover his Love unto her, he would hardly have ventured upon it, out of his fears to incense her: But after a quarter of an hours silence, not one word passing between them: for Hermogenes was considering what to say, and Cleodora mused upon the proceedings of Belesis: But she rousing herself suddenly out of her fixed posture, and turning towards Hermogenes with a smile: if Belesis said she unto him, do not entertain Leonisa better than you do me: and if Leonisa be not better company to Belesis, than I am to Hermogenes, we did them no very good office in leaving them alone, nor unto ourselves neither, since if we were all four together, perhaps we should muse less than we do. I know not Madam what you do, replied Hermogenes: But I am sure as musing as I am, and as reserved as you are, I had rather be alone in your company, then with all the company in the world: and yet there is no great pleasure (said she) in the company of one whose spirits are so distracted, and thoughts so far off, when she speaks as if there were countries, and seas between them: and I confess when I revived out of my musing humour, and found you in yours, and as far off me in your thoughts, as I was off you; I thought myself very uncivil, and was ready to correct myself for it: Why Madam, said Hermogenes, can you think that my thoughts might not be of you, though I did not speak? doubtless they were not, replied she, and to be sincere with you, though you were near me, yet you were far off my thoughts. We are then very different, said Hermogenes, for you are always in my thoughts, though I be far from you: I see you will repair that incivility, whereof I taxed you with another excessive civility, but know, Hermogenes, that you need not use unto me any improbable truth, much less any possible lies, to get belief: I had thought that what I spoke, said Hermogenes, had been easy to believe; for Madam, it is very imaginable one may remember you, when he sees you not, and for my part I profess, that I can think of nothing else but you, in what place soever I am: had you told me, replied Cleodora, that you remember me very often, I should have thought myself obliged unto you, because than I should have thought you spoke sincerely; but to say you remember me always, this is too much to believe: and yet I tell you not all, answered Hermogenes, since if I should tell you all I think of you, I should tell you more than ever Belesis did: since certainly I Love you more than ever he did. Ah Hermogenes, cried Cleodora, I cannot endure this affront, for would you have me lend an ear unto a declaration of Love from you, and another from Belesis? whosoever considers what you say, will find that you wrong Belesis, as well as me: for if you think Belesis loves me not, he hath reason to complain against you, for thinking him capable of subjecting himself to so mean a beauty as myself: and if he do Love me, than you are a very bad friend to him, and an ill husband of, your own honour, to publish your crime so boldly: However it be Madam, (replied Hermogenes) I do Love you; and certainly Love's you without a crime, though there were no other reason to excuse myself, but by saying I must needs Love you and cannot choose: No, no Hermogenes (said Cleodora) you cannot deceive me: I see this is only a compacted plot between Belesis and you; and therefore without any anger against you, I will only be revenged upon Belesis: for indeed I do not take it well, he should oblige you, to speak unto me as you do: and there are some things wherewith there is no jestings. I do protest unto you Madam, replied Hermogenes, that Belesis is ignorant of any thoughts of Love which I have to you; though I knew all his: you are then a very perfidious friend, answered Cleodora: I know not Madam whether or no I am a perfidious friend, but I am most certain, that I am a most faithful, and passionate Lover; in the mean time, I beseech you Madam, let Belesis complain against my infidelity, when he shall know it, and let me only beg this one favour only from you, that you will be pleased to observe both the passion of Belesis and mine; and to promise me that if Belesis consent unto my happiness you will not oppose it: you tell me such strange things, replied Cleodora, that I know not what answer to return: yet I know this, that I take it very ill you should speak unto me as you do: yet Madam replied he, I shall say the same as long as I live: then speak unto me no more, replied she, at least in private; yet once more Hermogenes I charge you to proceed no further unless by order from Belesis, & unless I may know his reason, for to speak sincerely unto you, if you be hisrival, you are less his friend: But I observe you live & agree together as you used to do: therefore if you will really oblige me, tell me what benefit he hopes for by this plot: Since I am not so bad a friend to Belesis as you upbraid me with, said he, I will relate nothing unto you that concerns him. But shall only tell you that he is ignorant of my love to you, and by consequence cannot know that I have assumed the boldness to tell you that I love you; But Madam I beseech you do not charge me with any infidelity to my friend, or rashness to my mistress; let time and your own reason find out the truth of things: I need no time, replied she, to find out that I ought not to suffer you to speak as you do, therefore be silent unless in lieu of my anger, you will incur my hatred: After this Hermogenes was so bold as to use many expressions more passionate than the first, and spoke with such an Air, as let Cleodora know, he loved her in earnest: And in that belief, after she had well consulted with herself upon the business, and after Hermogenes had left her, she resolved not to acquaint Belesis with any passages between them, for fear some quarrel or disorder might grow between them, for though she intended to be very faithful unto Belesis, yet she wished that no misfortune might happen unto Hermogenes for the love of her: and therefore she could not resolve to break off absolutely with him: but intending to avoid as much as she could his being alone with her: After Hermogenes was gone, she went into Leonisas' chamber from whence Belesis was not yet departed: But since both their spirits were very busy in thinking upon what they had told them, and in endeavouring to know the truth, their conversation was some thing Reserved and Private. At first, when Cleodora entered, Leonisa spoke first, Though you were so cruel as to leave me, said she unto her, yet I pray tell me what news you have heard in your visits: Since I did not find any at home (replied Cleodora) and since I never stirred from Hermogenes out of my chamber, I know no more than I did when I left you, it is you rather than I that is likely to tell news; I assure you, replied Leonisa, if you know no more than I do, you have met with no very good intelligence, for I saw no body but Belesis, who told me nothing at all: yet you have been a long time together, replied Cleodora: I have had never the more news for that, replied Leonisa as you might have with Hermogenes: But Belesis replied Cleodora is used to hear more news than he: yet he hath told me none (replied she) yet I would gladly know, replied Cleodora what you have talked on all this while: sometimes we talked of you (answered Leonisa) and the rest of the afternoon was spent in repetition of a hundred things which imprinted themselves so slightly in my memory, that I have forgotten them: But since I know you have a better memory, I pray tell me what discourse Hermogenes and you have had, since news was no part of your conversation? Truly said Cleodora unto her, I shall be a little more ingenuous than you are, for I must confess that I remember very well all Hermogenes said unto me: but I profess I will not tell you, unless you will tell me what Belesis said unto you concerning me: cannot you Imagine replied Leonisa what Belesis and I might talk of? No, replied Cleodora, not in the humours he hath been in of late, and therefore I would gladly know, whether he complains of any thing which I have unawares spoken: it is not likely he should complain of you to me (replied Leonisa) what did he then speak of? (said Cleodora) sincerely I cannot tell you, answered Leonisa, I only know we spoke of you, but know not upon what occasion. I should not so soon forget what's told me (replied Cleodora, and blushed for anger she should be so inquisitive to no purpose) after which every one of them began to muse upon the matter, and passed away the rest of the evening without any discourse, unless some odd word by chance. Thus S●. was the state of things, when one of high quality, and of greater wealth, fell in love with Leonisa, as well as Belesis: his name was Tisias: But since he was a man of none of the rarest parts, she could not much brag of this conquest; Yet being then very young, and Rubies glistering in her eyes, she was pleased that a man of his rank should think upon her; though she had no esteem of him at all, but looked only upon him through his great birth, and through the magnificence of his troops, and because he was in favour with the Prince of Susa. Then did Belesis think himself very miserable, because since Tisias fell in love with Leonisa, he was almost perpetually with her, and did not only hinder him from talking with Leonisa, but forced him often to apply himself unto Cleodora, unto whom he could hardly speak: Hermogenes had also some share in this angry adventure, because he spoke less unto Cleodora then before, and his passion was arrived to that height as he could enjoy no rest: Yet all his expressions of affection were in vain: for this Lady was so constant in her affection to Belesis that nothing could alter her: all the favour she showed him, was not to speak unto Belesis, because she thought if she did, there might arise some quarrel between them; her greatest motive to that was, because she thought Belesis was jealous of Hermogenes, and because he dissembled a coldness to his friend, the better to delude Cleodora; and therefore she offered him to see Hermogenes no more, and denied that he was in love with her. But say what she could, Belesis told her that he would endeavour to love Leonisa to be revenged of Cleodora, since she loved Hermogenes to mock Belesis and his passion: so that Cleodora believing Belesis to be really jealous of Hermogenes, began to shun him with all care, and to treat him extremely roughly: Belesis on the other side was far from his happiness: not but that he knew Leonisa esteemed him, and was not sorry that he loved her, but it was because he had so few opportunities of talking with Leonisa in private, especially since Tisias became his Rival, that it was impossible he should make any far progress into her heart: Yet he watched his opportunity so well, that one day he spoke with her, when neither Cleodora nor Tisias were present, and in a place where none could hear what they said, Belesis laying hold on this precious minute, began to aggravate the grandeur of his passion: But as Leonisa for all her sweetness had a kind of imperious spirit, so she began to speak, and looking upon him with an angry aspect: Truly Belesis (said she unto him) I wonder you dare be so bold as to persuade me you love me, when all the world knows you love Cleodora; If I could cast off Cleodora, and not cast off Leonisa also, replied Belesis: the world should quickly be undeceived, for I would behave myself so toward her, as there should be no question, that I am not in love with her, though I would never fail in the payment of those respects which are due unto a person of her merit and virtue; But since my cross fate will have it so, as I cannot let you know that I love you, unless I seem to love her also. Questionless it were injustice in the Fair Leonisa, to tax me with a thing which I would not do but for the love of her. I can tax you with one fault, replied she, unto which I think you cannot make any direct answer, and that's this; if you were not in love with Cleodora, why are you continually looking upon her picture? That you may know what I look upon (replied Belesis, in giving the case unto Leonisa and letting her open it herself) I beseech you see and judge whether my crime be so great in looking upon that picture. Then Leonisa taking the case, and opening it, she was extremely surprised, when in lieu of Cleodoras' picture, she had found her own. Ah Belesis (said she and blushed) your crime is greater than I thought it: for I cannot think it good you should have my picture: Belesis then fearing she would not restore it, did cunningly catch it out of her hands, before she could hinder him. I humbly ask your pardon Madam, for my incivility (said he unto her) but I am so miserable, that I ought to fear the loss of my only consolation which your rigour hath left me: do not deceive yourself (said Leonisa) for it is not my intention to let you have it, nor to expose myself unto the danger of the world's belief that I gave you the picture. I am not so vain, Madam, replied Belesis, to make my boast of receiving such a favour from you: but you may well think, that man who would so closely conceal a real favour if he received it, will not falsely report that you gave him this picture: you have not been yet so discreet, replied Leonisa, but I know that you had Cleodoras' picture: 'Tis true, answered Belesis, but you know it only by the sister of Hermogenes, who herself had never known it, if I had not been in love with you, for that was the true reason that I became so careless and left it once behind me; Ah Belesis (said Leonisa, and interrupted him) I will never suffer my picture to remain in the hands of a man, who is used to lose it: hitherto I have not lost it (replied he) have you Cleodoras' yet (replied Leonisa) 'tis very true, I have, said he, and under colour of that, I sometimes please myself in looking upon yours, even in her presence: Leonisa then importuned him to tell her how he got her picture: And Belesis told her, that understanding she was to have her picture taken to send unto some of her Cousins in the province from whence she came, he suborned the painter and got it from him: afterwards he showed her how the case was double, which she did not perceive before, and there she found Cleodoras' picture and her own both: So that by this fallacy Belesis did often look upon the picture of his new Mistress, at the same time when the poor Cleodora thought it had been her own, because she knew the case, and because Belesis did sometimes show her her own picture purposely, that she might think he looked upon it: For though Belesis was most desperately in love with Leonisa, yet he still feared and respected Cleodora. Leonisa knowing this trick, used all her rhetoric to get her picture out of his hands: but do or say what she could he would not part with it: But being desirous to be as safe as she could, and being also desirous to satisfy herself in one thing which she had much longed to know, and at least to make trial of Belesis his virtue. Truly Belesis (said she unto him after much other talk) I cannot believe you love me, nor suffer my picture to be in your hands but upon one condition: which is, that you let me have in my keeping all Cleodoras' letters unto you, and also her picture; for unless you do this, I do protest I shall not believe you love me: but shall think that you love Cleodora still, and that you carry my picture but the better to hide hers. All this is so unjust, replied Belesis, that I cannot imagine you should desire I should believe you: and truly Cleodora never did me so much honour as to write unto me: as for her picture, 'tis true, I got it by a slight as I did yours, and by consequence I were too simple if I let it pass for a favour; if so, said Leonisa and laughed, me thinks you should not think it strange that I do no more for you then Cleodora did, for I do intend to be no less severe than she. But for all that I know you had Cleodoras' picture from her own hand, and I know also you received a hundred letters from her: if I had replied Belesis, I beseech you be as kind as Cleodora was: I shall be what I ought to be, replied she when you have performed the condition which I desire: It is questionless my duty to do any thing which you desire (replied Belesis) except such things as may make me lose your esteem: and unto such things Madam, the love I bear you will not permit me to consent unto: and therefore I beseech you Madam take it not ill if I deny your desires; for how should you ever trust my discretion with the least favour; if I should lavishly confess what Cleodora conferred upon me? it is sufficient Madam, that I forsake her for you without basely betraying her; also I do not think you have well considered what you demand; Really said he and smiled, if you should desire to see Cleodoras' letters, and to know how far she favoured me, to the end you might go as far as she. I think I should invent a thousand lies and counterfeit as many letters which might be advantageous to me; but since I know that though I received a thousand real favours from the greatest beauties in the world, yet you would not be the more favourable to me, therefore I beseech you, move me not to invent false ones; if you would have me relate any passages between Cleodora and me, I beseech you Madam let it be her Rigours and Cruelties, to the end that aggravating the miseries which she hath caused me to suffer, you may resolve to be more mild and sweet, and make me less miserable. Examples (replied Leonisa craftily) are things which much moves me, and powerfully works upon my spirit; and therefore if you tell me only of Cleodoras' cruelties, perhaps I shall easily have the same thoughts she had; I know Madam replied Belesis, that you are more reasonable then to do as you speak, or to speak as you do and speak sincerely; but though Cleodora had writ many obliging letters unto me, and though I had them in my keeping, yet I ought not to give them you; A lover doubtless ought blindly to obey the person whom he loves, but not, (as I said before) when he exposeth himself to the loss of her esteem; Yet there are some certain things (replied Leonisa) which if a Mistress desire, and the servant obey, he will merit her affection; and I know not whether what I now desire of you be not in that number; for although I am forced to confess that it is handsomer to do as you do, then if you did otherwise, yet I must let you know it is not so obliging, since you cannot deny me but for two reasons; the one, because you dare not trust my discretion; the other, because you would perhaps keep yourself upon terms to renew love with Cleodora; and which of those towsoever it be, certainly it is not very advantageous for me. I must needs acknowledge, said Belesis, that whatsoever your discretion be I, do not think myself obliged to trust you with any thing which might be prejudicial unto the person whom I once loved, and who did not hate me: For truly if I did, I should give you a very fine example of indiscretion, such a one as I should think that you could not be more discreet than I am, unless you give me a just subject of complaint. But Madam, as to what you say, that perhaps I keep Cleodora's letters in my hands, purposely to close with her again; In answer to this Madam, I will tell you, that if you please, I will never speak unto her again, nor ever look upon her: I will go so far as incivility, if you desire it: but I beseech you, let me not go so far as treason: yet do not think I beseech you, that I speak thus, because my love to you is not violent enough, for though I do deny what now you do desire of me, yet I offer at the same time to undertake the most difficult erterprises in the world for your service. At these words Leonisa interrupting him, It is enough, (said she unto him) it is a sufficient trial of your virtue Belesis: But to the end you should not have a less good opinion of my virtue, than I have of yours, know, that if you had consented unto what I did so urgently desire, I should never have trusted you with the least favour in the world: But since you have resisted me with so much prudent obstinacy, and denied me the picture of Cleodora, I consent you shall keep mine, though you stole it from me.  
At the pronouncing these words Leonisa was silent, and blushed, and I know not whether Belesis was hastier to render thanks then she was to diminish the obliging sense of her language. But he was so ready to apprehend the obligation, that the words no sooner touched his ear, but they reached his heart, and his heart his tongue to thank her. Though you do nothing (said he unto her) but consent unto a thing which you could not hinder me from, yet am I infinitely obliged unto you, for creating it a gift, and not a theft; and I am most certain, I shall find your Picture more resembling your fair self, since these three or four words which you have spoken in my favour, do so pleasingly sweeten my imagination, that I shall think myself much more happy every time I look upon it: I pray Belesis, said Leonisa, do not give me so many thanks, lest I should think I have granted you to much and repent: then I must shut up my acknowledgements in my heart, said Belesis, and content myself with showing you, only my Love. After this Leonisa, desired to see her picture, which he presenting unto her; he had as great joy to receive it from the fair hand of his dear Leonisa, as if he had received it from her own gift. But first he observed unto her, by the distinguishment of the clasps, which was on that side where Cleodora's picture was, to the end she might know in opening of the Case, which side hers was on: for though it is not the custom of those that have the pictures of the persons whom they love, to look upon them in their presence, yet it was not so with Belesis, for whether it was Cleodora, or Leonisa that he loved, he would look upon their pictures with such violent raptures of love, and such private thoughts, as if they were the very substances. He was never better pleased, then when he saw Leonisa in a great Closet at her Aunts, where there was on four great Pillars, four great Mirrors of polished steel: which way soever he turned he saw four Leonisa's, and sometimes many more Leonisa's, at least he said so, when he would aggravate his passion: and there also he looked often upon the Picture, though it was in the same Chamber where she was. Thus Sir you see upon what terms Belesis was with Leonisa. In the mean time, the poor Cleodora, thinking that the love of Hermogenes was the true cause of Belesis his manner of behaviour, resolutely determined to entreat him not to see her any more, seeing that all her roughness of behaviour would not repulse him. Since she knew he was very wise, and knew most of the passages between Belesis and her: She thought it best to speak unto him in all ingenuous sincerity: so that finding him one day, in her Aunt's chamber, as she was busy in talking with others: she began to speak unto him: In the mean time, since she had a long while shunned him, Hermogenes was ravished at the alteration: but his joy was very short; for she no sooner opened her mouth, but he knew that he should have more cause to complain against Cleodora, then to thank her. I pray you Hermogenes (said she unto him) do not murmur at the request I shall make, and take that confidence which I have in you, for the greatest testimony of my esteem and affection, which you can ever receive from me: For Heaven's sake Madam (said Hermogenes) do not ask me any thing that will force me unto a denial: If I thought I should be denied (said she) I would not ask, but having great confidence in your wisdom, I hope to obtain my request. But Madam, replied Hermogenes, what can you desire more of me, than what I have already given? I would desire you, for some urgent considerations which nearly concern me, to forbear either seeing me or speaking unto me: Alas Madam, replied he, you ask me that which is not in my power to grant? But I pray Madam, is this the testimony of that esteem, and affection you spoke of? Doubtless it is (replied she) for if it were not, I should have banished you without speaking to you, and therefore me thinks you ought to consent willingly to my desire. If you will banish me, replied he, because the Person that hath Power over you, thinks it not fit, I should have the honour to see you, or because my passion makes too great a noise in the world: I could put a favourable sense of your act, and obey you: But fair Cleodora, I know very well, you only would pack me away, to admit of Belesis: I crave your pardon Madam, (said he, seeing Cleodora blush at his answer) for taking the freedom to speak with so much sincerity, but yet the lamentable condition wherein I am, might serve, me thinks, for an excuse. However, I must tell you, that though it be only to recall the happy Belesis that you drive me away, yet you ought to let me love you, and that freely; for Madam, if jealousy do not bring him back, nothing will: Therefore, though you have no consideration of me at all, and though you consider only yourself, yet it is your best course to let me live with you as formerly. No Hermogenes, replied she, you must not deny me, and therefore content yourself that I am not angry at what you say: But I will ingenuously confess unto you (said she, holding her hand before her eyes, and turning away her head to hide her blushes) that the jealousy of Belesis begins to anger me, especially since it discovers his folly unto some who else would never have known it. I beseech you Madam (said Hermogenes) do not disguise the truth, but consider, that Cleodora being my Mistress, and Belesis being always my intimate friend, it is not possible but I should a little know how things are: Certainly, replied she, since Belesis is your rival, you cannot be his spy; Belesis carrying himself now, replied Hermogenes, as the lover of Leonisa, and not of Cleodora, I do not resent him as my rival: However it be Hermogenes, replied she, do not deny me in my request, and do not force me to banish you with a noise. But Madam, I beseech you, (replied he) since Belesis is in love with Leonisa, is it not unjust in you to treat Hermogenes thus? Doubtless it is not (answered she) for I have such a horror to all men, that yourself must needs be included: Revenge is very sweet replied he: I confess it, replied Cleodora, yet there is no sweetness to be revenged upon one's self by desiring it upon another: And since Hermogenes, you have too many excellent parts, to owe your affection which one hath to you, unto the hatred which one hath against your rival; therefore it were more expedient you looked about for some better fortune: No, no Madam, replied she I am none of those delicate & scrupulous men, who are so precise as to observe which hand it is that gives a present: for so you will love me, I care not whether it be by revenge, or by inclination. However Hermogenes, said Cleodora, I will be obeyed. This is some favour yet, replied he, that you will absolutely command me, after you began with entreaties, 'Tis true, said she, but lest you repent, do as I bid you. Hermogenes, seeing with what resolution Cleodora spoke, thought it his best course not to resist her: so that to gain a little more time, for the execution of a design which he had: he conjured her to allow him six days only to consider; at the end of which time he would demand one hours' audience. Since Cleodora did very much esteem Hermogenes, she consented unto his desire, and so they parted: Cleodora hoping she had banished Hermogenes, and that Belesis would return unto her: and Hermogenes hoping, that as soon as he obtained one thing of Belesis, which he intended to ask, he should make Cleodora change her mind. And to that end, he went to look him the very same hour, and as hap was, found him in his chamber: As soon as he saw him, Belesis came to meet him, and gave him many thanks for applying himself so closely unto Cleodora that day, for he had thereby given him good opportunity to talk with Leonisa, to his exceeding delight. I am extremely joyed, said Hermogenes to him, that I was able to contribute any thing to your felicity: But my dear Belesis (said he unto him, and embraced him) you must do something also, to keep me from being miserable: You need not use any such conjuration, replied Belesis, for can you doubt, but that I will do any thing I can, to serve you? In good earnest Hermogenes your way of proceeding does offend me, since prayers are not to be made unto real friends: 'Tis doubtless enough to let them know we stand in need of them, and that will oblige them to our service: Speak then I conjure you, and tell me quickly what you would have me do for you. You must, since you will not have me entreat you, (replied Hermogenes) let Cleodora know that you love her not, and let her also know, that you love Leonisa. Ah Hermogenes, (replied Belesis) it is yet too soon to appear inconstant in the eyes of Cleodora: and why would you have me so soon discover my crime? is it because you are weary of talking so much with her? and does it vex you to be tied too long unto a business which concerns you not? if so, I had rather you would cease seeing her, then to tell her what I would not have her know so soon, and which indeed she will know but too soon. No, no said Hermogenes, you do not understand me: but to explain my words unto you, know cruel friend, that when you shaked off the fetters of the fair Cleodora, you enchained me with them: and the truth is, you never loved that fair Person, so well as I love her, nor would I quit her for a thousand of your Leonisas. (How said Belesis in a great astonishment) do you love Cleodora? yes, replied he, I do love her, and thank the gods you love her not, but are in such a condition as to pity me, and give me leave to do as I desire of you. Belesis seeing Hermogenes was serious, did not question the truth of his words, but the strangeness of the matter was, he was so surprised at them, that he walked up and down the chamber, and could not speak a word: so that Hermogenes wondering to see him so amazed, importuned him still to let his inconstancy be known unto Cleodora. For truly, said he unto him, if you will for my sake permit it; you will be a gainer by it as well as myself, since if Cleodora do not pretend any thing unto your affection, she will not then torment you, as she doth. Though her affection, replied he, will not torment me, yet her hatred will; therefore I entreat you heartily, not to tell her positively that I do not love her: and it will also reflect something upon Leonisa, and consequently it will augment your miseries, and not lessen mine. For I cannot see what advantage you can draw unto yourself by letting Cleodora know that I am in Love with Leonisa. Since I must tell you, replied he, know that it is because Cleodora (who thinks you jealous of me, and who thinks you counterfeit love to Leonisa, to spite her) loves you a thousand times better than she should: so that my affection to her cannot have any influence upon her heart, unless I can expel you out of it: move her to hate me if you can, because she loves you (replied Belesis) but I beseech you do not endeavour to make her love you, because she hates me: me thinks (said Hermogenes and smiled) this is too much fantastical niceness, for you do either love Leonisa, or you Love her not: if you do not love her, than you ought to tell me positively, that you love Cleodora still, and that you are my enemy, because you are my Rival. But if on the contrary you do love Leonisa, I do not see any reason why you should not permit me to tell Cleodora, that which will advance me, and free you from her affection for I am fully persuaded, that though it be only to revenge herself, she will treat me much better. However, not to dissemble with you, let me tell you truly, that if you do not consent unto this request, know, it is her will, I should neither love her, speak to her, nor see her any more: and then he told Belesis all the passages betwixt Cleodora, and himself; Whilst he was telling him the story, he observed a strange agitation in his mind, though he could not well conceive the reason, unless it was his shame to be known so inconst 〈…〉 But so it is (said he after he had related all unto him) that Cleodora will certainly ●ere long know you love her not, and that you love Leonisa; and since so, is it not much better she knew it now, when some advantage may be gotten by it, then to stay till none can be reaped by the knowledge of it? The more you hide your crime, the more Criminal you will appear: and therefore I conjure you let me endeavour to obtain that which you would willingly part with: Consider, that you have no reason to deny me, because you are the cause that I love her, since it was for your sake I undertook such familiarity with her: I saw her long before you, and never loved her, and certainly, so I should have done all my life: but since only in your behalf, and for no interest of my own, I was so complacential as to see her, and am desperately in love with her, me thinks it is but just, you should contribute all you can to cure that wound which you have caused. I wish I could, (replied Belesis much amazed) But I must confess unto you, I cannot so far prevail with myself, as to suffer you should discover my Crime unto Cleodora, moreover I beseech you consider that since I am not upon absolute good tharms with Leonisa, Cleodora when she knows the truth, will in a probability do me a thousand ill offices unto Leonisa; and therefore, though I should give way unto your desires, it should not be till I had absolutely gained, the heart of Leonisa. But whilst you are obtaining that victory, replied Hermogenes, what would you have become of me? for Cleodora within this six days will neither let me speak unto her, nor see her again: Consider I beseech you, what you would do if the case were your own: I know not, replied Belesis, but I am sure I cannot consent you should discover my Crime unto Cleodora. But why I pray you, did you fall in love with her? did you not lay to heart what I told you of her humours? why were not you wise by my woes, and let her alone; Believe me, it were Prudence in you in lieu of endeavouring to win her heart, to disengage your own from such a sad service: for the more in favour you are with Cleodora, the more unquiet shall your soul be: and therefore though it were only in Consideration of yourself, I ought to deny you what you desire in this business: No, no Belesis, said he, we ought not to serve our friends according to our own Palates, but according unto theirs: and when I first dissembled to be in love with Cleodora, I did not reason with you, so wisely as you with me, though perhaps, I had more cause than you have. However since at your desire in feigning love to Cleodora, I became really in love with her, I cannot see why you should so obstinately deny my request. But Hermogenes with all his Rhetoric could not persuade Belesis to consent. And Belesis having no good reasons wherewith to Colour his denial employed his Prayers, and in all Zeal entreated him not to tell Cleodora that he did not love her, but loved Leonisa. After this Contest had lasted a long while, these two friends parted, both complaining one against the other; 'tis true, yet there was no bitterness in their complaints, but they spoke to each other as if they hoped still to persuade; but after they were parted, they did more sharply resent the bitter Consequences of the business. Hermogenes was so sunk with sorrow, that Belesis had refused to assist him in his service of Cleodora, that he came in lamentable dejection unto me, to relate the Passage, aggravating the injustice of Belesis his denial in such Language, as made the vehemency of his Passion appear plainly unto me: but that I should not be ignorant in any circumstance which was related unto either of them, the next morning Belesis knowing I was an indifferent friend unto them both, came and acquainted me with the passage also, and desired me that I would keep Hermogenes from telling Cleodora how he deluded her. So that I being the confident of them both, I made use of that knowledge I had of their real thoughts, to keep them from falling out, and did so temper their spirits, that they complained against each other, in a much more civil manner. Yet the business could not stand long upon these terms, as you shall presently know. In the mean while Belesis was not a little perplexed when he went unto the Aunts of Cleodora, and Leonisa: for when he talked not unto the last of these, he was not pleased: and when Hermogenes talked with Cleodora, he was not able to endure it, imagining always that notwithstanding all his prayers, he was discovering his inconstancy unto her: so that to defer that inconveniency, he would often times leave Leonisa, and come to interrupt Hermogenes and Cleodora, intruding himself into their discourse, and excusing himself afterwards to Leonisa, as well as he could. Cleodora for her part seeing Belesis was so troubled and unquiet, and that yet he spoke more unto her than he used, did interpret all his inquietudes unto her own advantage 〈◊〉 thought him to he still in love with her. On the other side, Hermogenes, told Cleodora in a low voice, that if ever she would reduce Belesis, she must not banish Hermogenes, but as for Leonisa, she knew not what to think, but upon the perplexities of Belesis, she endeavoured to keep that which she had caused Cleodora to lose. The truth is Sir, I saw that at this time, which I assure you I never in my life saw before, and perhaps shall never see again: 〈◊〉, a man to be jealous and not in love, since certainly Belesis did for some days behave himself both to Cleodora and Hermogenes, as if he did not love the one, but as if he were the Rival of the other: to wit, with many Perplexities, many alterations of Countenance, and with the very same impatiencies, that jealousy is used to infuse into those whom it most torments, In the mean time, he always said that he did not Love Cleodora, and that he was desperately in love with Leonisa, I have heard say (said I unto him one evening when I was speaking unto him concerning his intimate thoughts) that it is not easy to be long in love without a little jealousy but I never thought it possible to be jealous, unless one were in love; And yet I see you behave yourself as if you were; For truly you cannot endure Hermogenes should talk in private with Cleodora you interrupt their discourse as much as you can and when you cannot, you look upon them as if you would look through their hearts, and guess their thoughts; and than you are so transported, that you never look upon Leonisa, though you are deeply in love with her: What would you have me do? (said he to me) I would have you hearken unto reason (answered I) and since you are not in love with Cleodora, not to hinder Hermogenes, but permit him to do whatsoever will be advantageous to him: No, no Alcenor, said he, I cannot prevail so far with myself: and there is such a fatal fantasticalness upon me that I cannot endure neither that Hermogenes should tell Cleodora I betrayed her, nor that he should love her, or be loved: I value not me thinks if a hundred others love her, but I cannot endure Hermogenes should: yet you are more obliged to endure him then any other, replied I, for he is more your friend then any other: 'tis very true, replied Belesis, and if you did but know how much I am ashamed of my folly, you would Pity me in the mean time it is so predominate, that I can ever return absolutely unto Cleodora, nor allow Hermogenes to love her, nor can I never forsake Leonisa. As we were discoursing thus together; Hermogenes came in, who in my presence spoke as obligingly unto Belesis as possibly could be: He told him that his six days would expire that night, and that he came once more to solicit him for a consent unto what he formerly desired. Moreover I have one thing to tell you said he, before you give me my last denial, which is, that if you will repent of your fault, and quit Leonisa and return unto Cleodora, and become as faithful as you have been inconstant: I promise you, to cease my sure, and never to discover your Crime, protesting unto you that I will not only leave Cleodora, but Susa also: but then I expect, that if it be so, you will love Leonisa still, and by consequence not pretend any thing unto Cleodora: I expect I say, you should assist me, and no longer oppose my desire. All that you say, is full of reason, replied Belesis, so that I am infinitely ashamed to return such an extravagant answer: But Hermogenes, if you love me you will pity the imperfections of your friend, and excuse me if I deny you, and confess that I cannot receive a more sensible displeasure then to see you love Cleodora, though I Love Leonisa, I know very well that it is extreme folly to speak thus: But it must be you Hermogenes, who are wiser than I am, that must connive at my weakness: it was you that brought me to Susa, and caused all my miseries, and therefore it must be you that must comfort me. 'tis true replied Hermogenes, I did bring you to Susa: but it was you first who brought me in love with Cleodora, and by Consequence it is our parts to comfort one another. After this, I took upon me to talk unto them both, but all to no purpose, and thus we all parted without any conclusion at all. And certainly it was very happy Belesis did not lodge near Hermogenes, as he did when he came first to Susa: for if they had, matters might have been worse between them. In the mean time, the poor Hermogenes was in a sad condition, because Cleodora observing the inquietudes of Belesis, and thinking he suffered them for the love of her, she resolved to banish Hermogenes; So that the six days which she gave him, being expired, she prepared herself for that hour of audience which he asked, and she promised, and taking hold of the opportunity in her Aunt's chamber, they went both to a window, far enough from the rest of the company, to talk, and not be understood; Therefore Cleodora began to conjure him not to speak unto her any more, but by degrees to withdraw himself from coming to her. However Madam, said he unto her, you will confess that it is for Belesis his sake that you banish me; and that if he were not in love with you, you would not banish me; Cleodora thinking that Hermogenes would be better satisfied if she spoke sincerely unto him, then if she should dissemble a truth which he was not ignorant of, told him in very obliging language, that it was very true, she desired to take from Belesis all causes of jealousy, and all complaints against her: assuring him, that if she had not some compassion upon Belesis, she would never deprive herself of his company, but should desire him to regulate that affection which he said he bore her. Hermogenes hearing Cleodora speak with more mildness than one that had any mind to banish another, or absolutely disoblige him, did believe, that if she knew of Belesis his inconstancy, perhaps he might possess that place which this inconstant man inojyed in the heart of this Lady: so that being prompted unto it by the excess of his love, and perceiving that be must either quit Cleodora, or undeceive her in her belief that she had of Belesis his loving her, began to think of changing the sentence of his death: since he did extremely Love Belesis, he was extremely unwilling to tell her what he knew but since it concerned the chief felicity of his life: and love surmounting all laws of friendship, his spirits began to be exasperated against Belesis. Whilst Hermogenes was thinking what to do, Cleodora looked upon him, imagining that the many alterations in his countenance, were caused only because of his sorrows, that he was not to speak unto her as he was used: but at last Hermogenes prevailing with himself: the gods are my witnesses Madam, (said he unto her) what an extreme unwillingness is in, me, to ease my soul of those miseries which oppress it, by telling one thing which doubtless will much trouble you, and which is far from pleasing me. For the melancholy which I shall see in your fair eyes, when you shall understand, that Belesis is unworthy of those honours you do him, will infinitely grieve me. But Madam, though I should not attempt to revoke that fatal sentence, which you have pronounced against me; yet in consideration of your own interest, I think myself obliged to discover unto you, what I know: for I am fully persuaded, that when a Mistress, and a friend are in the scales, the weights are much uneven. Nor is it in my choice to deliberate, since as the state of my case stands, I must tell you that Belesis is an unconstant man: that his jealousy is counterfeit, and that he is in love with Leonisa. At the first Cleodora did not believe Hermogenes, but thought that all he told her, was his own invention: But since there is nothing more easy, then to infuse mistrust into an amorous mind, she no sooner had told Hermogenes, that she gave no credit unto his words: but she began insensibly to be jealous, and ask him upon what conjectures he grounded his belief? So that by little and little, and hardly knowing what she said, she asked Hermogenes of more things than he knew of: and also he told her more, than she desired to know: yet since there still remained some kind of doubts in her; Hermogenes told her, that to clear them all, she should get her picture out of Belesis his hands, and there she might see Leonisas also; Ah Hermogenes, said Cleodora: could I but see that, I should extremely hate Belesis: and certainly you may see it, replied he, if you go handsomely about it: but alas Madam, said he, it will not be enough to hate Belesis, unless you love Hermogenes: I assure you, said she unto him, if this you tell me be true, I shall not easily love any: and I shall so hate myself, that I shall not be in any disposition to love others, since to speak truly, none ever loves, but for love of themselves: but however I assure you, that I shall think myself eternally obliged unto you, for discovering the perfidiousness of Belesis to me. As she spoke these last words, Belesis entered, who seeing Hermogenes and Cleodora, separated from the company, went towards them, to interrupt their discourse; though Leonisa was in the same chamber. In going thither, his mind began to change, because he feared Hermogenes had already discovered his crime: yet since he had already stepped a pace forward, he went on, with a spirit so full of turbulence, as plainly told Cleodora, his mind was unquiet. On the other side, this Lady was not a little troubled, in dissembling her thoughts: But since there was a necessity in it, to the end she might clear all her doubts, she forced herself extremely, to speak unto Belesis as she used to do: yet she received him with a constrained civility, so as Belesis was much perplexed at it, not knowing whether it was an effect of her knowing his crime or that it was only to spite him: Hermogenes also was so damped, that he durst hardly look upon Belesis, and therefore it was not strange, that these three persons could not endure to be together, but came unto the rest of the company, as soon as they had done their first compliments. In the mean while Leonisa seeing Belesis enter, turned her head continually, to observe whether he spoke unto Cleodora: but since she saw, he said almost nothing, but that they all came towards her, the little spite she had against him diminished: yet for all that, she thought to be revenged, and was so, immediately after for Sir, you must know, that Belesis at his first coming into the chamber, did choose rather to address himself unto Cleodora, then unto Leonisa, because she was alone with Hermogenes, and he no sooner saw that they were separated, and joined to the rest of the company, but he addressed himself unto Leonisa; who to be revenged as I said before, did receive him with such a cold look, as did little comfort him, in his secret sorrows: for turning herself presently towards Tisias, she taught Belesis by experience, what it was to prefer another before himself, and he could not get her to speak one word unto him all that day: but whilst Leonisa was revenging herself in this manner, Cleodora was full of impatient desires, to be clearly resolved of every thing which Hermogenes told her, and moved the company, to go and walk by the river, which runs by Susa: for she had no mind to walk in the common walks, because than she could not so conveniently talk with Belesis, as she desired: since Tisias was with Leonisa, and being of the most considerable quality in all Susa, none did dispute with him for the place he would take, and therefore he led Leonisa to the Coach, and afterwards by the river's side, to which all the company being come, they walked on foot in a great meadow, where there were many willows growing by the river side: Belesis seeing that he could not walk with Leonisa, and being desirous to hinder Hermogenes from presenting his hand unto Cleodora, he addressed himself unto her, though not with the same Air, he was accustomed before he loved Leonisa: Cleodora spoke to him with much civility and sweetness, insomuch as Belesis assured himself, Hermogenes had not yet discovered his crime, and considering with himself, how Cleodora always loved him very dearly, his soul was stinged with extreme remorse, for betraying so fair, so sweet a Lady: Not but that he did still turn his head continually towards Leonisa, to see how Tisias courted her; and it was apparent, that his heart was pitifully torn in pieces. In the mean time Cleodora, who had a secret design in it, did so order her pace, whether Belesis would or no, that they were separated from the rest of the company, taking a little path nearer the river side, to the end, as she said, she might walk more under the shadow of the willows; after they had walked a while, Cleodora seeming to look upon the river that was very calm and smooth, and would needs look upon herself in it: Ah Belesis, said she, I should think my glass to be a very bad one, or else I look very ill of late, yet I see it is not, for this river flatters no more than it: Belesis not suspecting her design, did contradict her, and said she never looked more fair; thinking that she said so only to move him not to consent unto her. Belesis therefore told her, he saw none more fair, since the first day he came to Susa: yet I have been very ill, and much altered since then, replied she, and I am confident that if you will look upon my picture, it will accuse you of flattery, and make my alteration evidently appear. To show you (said he to the end she might not see it, lest she should see Leonisa's also) that I think you fairer than your picture, I will not look upon it now in your presence, because I had much rather look upon you, than it: setting flattery aside, said Cleodora, I pray you let me see it: I would gladly let you see what wrong you do yourself, (said he unto her) in speaking so ill of your beauty, but I am so unfortunate, as I left it this morning in my cabinet, and forgot it: in saying so Belesis blushed, and so did Cleodora also, for she knew well, he spoke not truly: but to excuse the disorder that appeared in her face: I would not have given you my picture (replied Cleodora) to lock it up in your Cabinet, and forget me; Oh Madam (said Belesis unto her, extremely nonplussed) I beseech you condemn me not, for so ill expressing myself: for it was not my intention, to say that I forgot it, but that without any intention, I left it in my cabinet: However it be, (said she) I would not have given you it for that, yet I pray you let me see it as soon as you can, and look well whether or no, you left it there; for since you tell me, you left it there, and never thought of it, perhaps without thinking of it, you have it about you: Belesis refused a long time to look for it, saying that he knew that he had it not about him: but at last, lest Cleodora should suspect him; he seemed to look whether or no he was deceived, and to that end he looked amongst many papers, and other things which he carried about him, having a great care not to pull out that which he would not have her see. But as ill luck for him was, the clasps of his table book, catched hold of the clasp of the case, of the picture, and drew it out: so that Cleodora no sooner saw it, but she took it, before Belesis could hinder her; Cleodora had no sooner this picture, but fearing that Belesis would take it from her, she put it in her pocket; afterwards, turning towards him, hereafter, (said she, and seeming as if she did not think he told a lie) trust not too much to your memory. In the mean time, Belesis was extremely perplexed: for although he did not think, that Cleodora knew Leonisa's picture was in that case, as well as her own: yet he knew, that if it remained long in her hands, she would see it: And therefore it was made of such a fashion, that it was very hard for those that knew it not, to perceive that it opened at both sides, yet he thought, that Cleodora being suspicious, and witty, would easily find it out, if she had any long time to consider it. And therefore he began to conjure her, to restore it presently, but durst not for his life have recourse unto any force, against one to whom he owed so much respect: Madam, said he unto her, you asked me your picture, to see whether you were fairer than it, and to do Justice in restoring it again the same hour: I will look upon it said she, when I am with my glass: But Madam, said he, how do you think it possible, I should be all the rest of the day without it? Since you see the Person, whom it personates, (replied she with a crafty smile) you need not regret the want of the picture: promise me then I beseech you, replied he, that you will restore it before we part; perhaps I shall restore it to morrow, said she at least I will entreat you to come unto my chamber, and see the difference, betwixt my picture, and myself: After this Belesis used a hundred conjurations, and began to be very angry in his language: also he was very nigh; steeping his words in his tears: but at last he was forced to be silent, for Cleodora brought him into the company again, so that he could not talk any longer in private together: and to take all occasion of it from him, she went unto Leonisa, and parted not from her all the rest of the day: You may imagine Sr. how Belesis fretted, and how impatient Cleodora was to be in such a place where she might see whether all Hermogenes told her was truth: She did fit so upon thorns, that she complained it was grown late, to the end she might the sooner induce them homeward: on the contrary Belesis thinking to find some remedy for the discovery which he feared, or at least finding some consolation in deferring it, did all he could to spin out time, telling Cleodora she was not very full of complacency, in desiring so much good company should be deprived of so much pleasure for her fake: but say what he could, they went home betimes: Yet his hope was, that when he came to her house, he might perhaps wait upon her to her chamber, and there importune her to restore the picture, but she very cunningly stayed in her Aunt's chamber until he was gone: and as soon as ever that was, she went into her closet, and shut herself up, and very hastily opened the case, where at first she found only her own picture: But since Hermogenes told her that the case was double, she begun to consider it very attentively: and looked upon it a long while, turning it on every side, that at last she found the way to open it, and presently found the picture of Leonisa: As soon as ever she saw it, she let it fall from her hand, Then taking it up, she looked upon it again: after which, throwing it upon the table with as much anger as sorrow: Ah Hermogenes cried she out: all is but too true: but I wish it were not; well perfidious Belesis, hast thou betrayed me, and become inconstant? well, well, Leonisa, added she, did you come unto Susa, to make me the most miserable woman in the world? And you Hermogenes, did you only love me to acquaint me with the cheat of your friend? But what good can Belesis, Leonisa and Hermogenes get, by the miseries which I endure? since it is myself whom I ought to accuse for all my disasters. For indeed (added she, and addressed her speech as unto a third person) to what end is it, that she is so curious in the choice of her friends, since she is so ill a chooser of her lover? she could never endure above four or five in all the world, and out of that number she hath preferred one before the rest, and it is very he, that hath betrayed and forsaken her, she I say, who forsook all the world for Belesis: she changed her own humours for him, and was neither choleric or imperious, yet he hath forsaken her, when she was most favourable unto him: Doubtless, said she, I must now treat him, as they use to do slaves and spaniels that are better for beating and ill usage; or to express myself a little better, I must neither be mild nor severe unto him, but for my own quiets sake, I must not see him at all: But alas it is but too true, that I have seen him; I have esteemed him, and I have loved him: Yet I am fully resolved, never to see him again in private, but once, and that shall be, to chide him for his perfidy, and I am most certain I shall never esteem him again. But for all my wise resolutions, said she and sighed, I cannot tell whether I can never love him again; me thinks I am fuller of sorrow and anger than I am of hatred: and me thinks I cannot choose but wish he would repent; But I am resolved though he should repent, yet never to pardon him, but to be revenged both upon him for his crime, and upon myself for my folly: After this, Cleodora told me, that she spoke a hundred things more, which she could not well remember: and that she fixed upon a hundred several resolutions contrary to one another, and that her mind was full of all, that love, hatred, anger, and jealousy could in the most violent manner inspire into her: And was so long in discourse with herself, that her women were constrained to come & tell her it was very late, and that if she would sleep before it was day, she must go to bed quickly. Cleodora desiring to conceal her perplexities, took up the picture which she threw upon the table with much violence, and went to bed: but assured me that she never closed her eyes all that night; but after she had well thought upon what course to take, she resolved to employ all her wits to make Belesis and Leonisa fall out, and to make a way for Tisias to marry her: Yet since she could not bring this to pass by herself, but did stand in need of the help of Hermogenes, who could easily help on her design, she resolved to endure him, and make him the confident of her revenge. Since she was one of an arrogant spirit, she had an apprehension that none could observe by her eyes that she had been crying, or that she wanted sleep: so that before the sun appeared, she wiped up all her tears, and shut up all her sighs, and did strive to set a gloss of that tranquillity upon her face which was far from her heart: she would needs be dressed better than the day before, thinking her dress would add gayness unto her looks; After that she had taken all possible care to hide her melancholy, she went from her own chamber to Leonisas, which was not far off, but since this Lady did not rise so soon as Cleodora, she was not yet ready; and not knowing why or what her business was, she did chide her for being so early, and earnestly asked the reason; for truly said she unto her, I did not think to see you so early, and so fine to day, (adding and laughing) that surely she intended to make some new conquest at the Temple, and told her it was profane to have any such thoughts, and that therefore, she was too early up, though her complexion was as fresh, and eyes as sparkling, as if she had slept ten hours; Yet it is so early, said she unto her, that before we go unto the Temple, half the curls of your hair would be out, and hang down negligently. I assure you, replied Cleodora, with a blitheness which was not very natural, if I can but please you to day, I shall think the time employed in my dress to be well bestowed. As for any conquest, my dear Cousin, I protest they are far from my thoughts, since if I should make any, I should endeavour to lose them again; After this, these two fair ones talked of a hundred such things as these, whilst Leonisa was dressing herself; and when she was ready, Cleodora assuming a more serious countenance, and having a mind to be revenged upon Belesis, I am very sorry said she unto her, that I am forced to give you any such testimony of my love, as will not be agreeable to your liking; and to reveal a secret unto you which perhaps you will not give me any thanks for, but since I am persuaded it is fit to be done, I am resolved upon it, entreating you first to believe, that I have no intention to find that which I would advise you to lose. There is so much obscurity in your words, replied Leonisa, that I cannot make any answer, all that I can say is, that I am most willing to put a favourable construction upon any thing you shall say, and thankfully acknowledge any confidence you shall put in me; if so replied Cleodora, I shall confess unto you, (though I cannot without a blush) that long before you came to Susa, Belesis did court me, and if I durst say it, did love me; but loved me in such a manner a● made too great a noise in the world; so that to hinder him from doing many things which might be prejudicial unto me, I was forced to be a little less severe towards him then otherwise I should; Then did I suffer him to tell me sometimes that he loved me, lest be should otherwise ●la● it unto others; so that having some esteem of Belesis, and slightly acknowledging the affection he had to me, I behaved myself with much confidence towards him. This was the state of things, my dear Leonisa when you came first hither▪ But since love is a passion which is hard to be hid, I confess I was afraid lest you should perceive the love which Belesis professed unto me; for since I never saw you since you were five years old, I had not experience enough in you to make you my confident: so that I hope in reason it will not offend you that I did at that time mistrust you, and to tell you truly, since you had never been at Court, I thought you would interpret things of this nature as crimes, and that perhaps you knew not how to distinguish between an innocent passion and an unlawful affection: So that extremely fearing you should discover the correspondency between Belesis and myself, I told him that I would not expose myself unto that hazard, and willed him never to 〈◊〉 in private with me before you, no inso much as to look upon me when you were present: For though I knew you not, yet I observed in you a notable spirit, which made me fear you: I being thus full of unquiet thoughts, add not effecting B 〈…〉 sis so much as he did me: I absolutely told him, that I would not live in such continual apprehensions of fear; and he seeing I was almost resolved to break off with him, rather than you should come to know the intelligence between us; he proposed (for the settling of my mind in quiet, and to hinder you from discovering the truth) that I would permit him to dissemble a love unto you: and I, not loving you then, as now I do, consented unto his proposition: Conceiving it would be matter of great joy unto a young fresh come Lady to think she had captivated the heart of such a gallant man as Belesis. I assure you (said Leonisa, and blushed, denying only she was deceived) Belesis hath very ill acquitted himself of his negotiation, for he never told me that he loved me, but I very well perceived that he loved you: Fie, fie, Leonisa (said Cleodora very subtly) never deny it unto me, for I know it as well as yourself; only pardon me I beseech you for consenting unto Belesis in that cheat which Belesis put upon you. But to show you I had no intention it should go so far: You must lend me a patient hearing: and I shall tell you, that in consenting to his proposition, I declared unto him, that I would only have him address him in compliments of Courtship and Gallantry: and not seem to engage himself in good earnest, for that would not be only a simple cheat, but a horrible Treachery which I would never consent unto: he promised me as much as I desired, and since that, my mind hath been in some serenity, knowing that you would imagine his affection was to you, and by consequence never suspect he loved me: At first I was used to ask him what he said unto you, and what you answered, but afterwards I gave over and enquired no more. Having since that observed, that he addressed himself with a strange assiduity unto you, I must needs confess my dear Leonisa that your fair eyes struck a terror into me, and I feared his fiction was turned earnest: Then I resolved to tell Belesis of it, who swore a thousand oaths unto me, that he never loved you one minute, and the more forcibly to persuade me, he offered never to speak unto you again. And that he would put into my hands all that ever he had of yours, even your picture: in saying so Cleodora did show her picture unto Leonisa: I cannot represent unto you Sir, the astonishment of this Lady: for I have heard herself say, that her spirits were never in her life so troubled as then. Ah Cleodora, (cried Leonisa) I never gave Belesis, my picture, I will believe you replied she, but he told me you did, and that which makes me sooner believe you is, because I never gave him mine: and yet he told me, replied Leonisa, that your own hand did give it him and he did not only tell me, but I think he told Hermogenes as much, for I have heard his sister say so: However it be, said Cleodora, I thought myself obliged, to remedy the wrong I did, and undeceive you. But to let you see (said she unto her) that in discovering this truth unto you, I do it not out of any jealousy, let me tell you that my mind does so disgust the proceedings of Belesis, that I am absolutely resolved to break off with him, and the sooner because I have credible information, that he holds a secret correspondency with a Lady of the best quality in all Susa. Therefore if you will believe me, and the advice of her who first consented to delude you, you shall absolutely reject him as I do, and let both resolve never to see him again: I know that if I should look upon the matter as I might, I had some reason to complain against you, since your own words did signify you believed that I loved Belesis, and yet for all, that you did as much as was in your power to engage him unto a love of you: but it was I who committed the first fault, and therefore will pardon you the second; offering my assistance to revenge yourself upon Belesis, better than you yourself can without me. Leonisa hearing Cleodora, say so, knew not what to think, nor could she doubt her words, because she found so much probability in them: So that her anger against Belesis for deceiving her did so exasperate her spirits; that she was not at all angry with Cleodora, but did very easily pardon her: After which, being very forward to incense her against Belesis, and told her all his passionate and obliging expressions unto her: But since this was a better story to tell Cleodora wherewith to incense her: She told her another which was much sweeter: for as she told her how she believed that Belesis loved her, yet I know (said she unto her) that I was much too blame in suspecting it, for when I importuned him one day to let me have your picture and all your letters, the wicked man made his denial of them, pass in my conceit for an effect of his discretion and virtue, and I had that day so good an opinion of him for it, that I showed him more favour than ever I did since I knew him: Thus Sir, the poor Leonisa, did second the design of Cleodora to be revenged upon Belesis: yet Cleodora was not sorry that Belesis had so much respect of her as not to give her letters unto Leonisa: But he was so culpable so many other ways that this did not make her change her design, and she still looked upon him as a man who was naturally very discreet, but yet very inconstant: Then she began to flatter Leonisa, and to confirm her in their resolution of banishing Belesis, seeking out for handsome pretences to move their Aunt not to take it ill. In the mean time, since Leonisa's soul was not strong enough to dissemble sorrow that day, she desired Cleodora to say she was not well, and that none could see her, and indeed she went unto Bed, the better to hide those tears, which perhaps she could not hold: After which, Cleodora went unto the Temple, waiting for the afternoon with much impatience; for she imagined, that Belesis would not fail to visit her in her chamber: yet he came not so soon as she hoped, for he apprehended that she could not find out Leonisa's Picture, and therefore it was late before he came to see Cleodora: and at last he went, but it was with such thoughts as himself did not well know what they were: for as he earnestly desired that Cleodora would not love Hermogenes, yet he was still as deep in love with Leonisa as ever he was, though he bore much respect unto Cleodora. But for all those respects he was extremely afraid, that she should know his crime, not out of any resentments of love, but of honour.  
Thus being very unquiet in his thoughts, and fearing also that Leonisa should know he had talked so long with Cleodora the day before, and that he should go into Cleodora's chamber before hers, he appeared before Cleodora very reserved and melancholy. As for her, since she hoped, that Leonisa did resolve upon a revenge, her face was full of joy, which raised a great confidence in him, thinking that if Cleodora had seen the picture of Leonisa, she would not have been so pleasant: Well Madam, (said he unto her) have you not found yourself far fairer than your picture? hath not your glass convinced you of an error? and are you not clearly of my opinion, that you are infinitely fairer than your picture? I know not whether you were in the right, or the wrong, in telling me so (said she unto him) but I am sure there is one in that Case which I took from you, whom you think far fairer than mine, or myself either. In saying so, Cleodora blushed for anger, and Belesis grew pale with fear and astonishment: he had not power to open his mouth: so that Cleodora, seeing he spoke not: You do very well Belesis, said she unto him, you do very well, not to go about to excuse yourself; for you would do it so scurvily, that you would but augment my anger. I know Madam, (said he then unto her) that you have reason to think me culpable, since you have seen the picture of Leonisa: and I know, said she, that you can never persuade me to the contrary: for to spare you the labour of giving any scurvy reasons, or inventing any lies, I know all the passages betwixt Leonisa and yourself: you cannot tell me a word which I do not know, either from herself, or her confident which hath betrayed her: and I remember all that you have done against me also; and after all this, I pray, judge what thoughts I ought to have of you, and whether I have not reason to slight you so far as to hate you extremely: but yet notwithstanding, I cannot hate you without an Epithet, and therefore let me repeat it, and tell you, that I do most horridly hate you: I cannot endure the very sight of you: not only as you are an inconstant man, which is an imperfection far below a generous spirit, but because you are a close sinner, and would have concealed your inconstancy, in feigning to be jealous, and so would have smeared me with your own crime. Pray Madam (said be unto her) why did you treat me so long, so cruelly? and why did you make me so miserable, that I was forced to make you jealous, and feign to be so of you, thereby to obtain your love? Fie, fie Belesis (said she unto him) do not still dissemble the matter, you did really love Leonisa, and never thought I loved Hermogenes. I know not, said he, whether I thought it; but I am sure I feared it extremely, and I would have done any thing to hinder him from being in your favour. Your language is so extravagant (said she unto him in great anger) that I cannot endure you should be a minute longer with me: But since it is the last time of all my life that ever I will speak unto you, I shall be glad to know what were your motives, and reasons of your change: for before ever Leonisa came to Susa, you saw there a thousand fairer than myself, or her either; yet you did not quit me for any of them: nor can it be my feverity which tired your patience, since when I was rigorous you loved●me, and when I was otherwise, than you changed your thoughts: Nor could it be any of my favours which could glut your love, for thanks be to the gods, I did never load you with them: what then may be the cause of your inconstancy? Am I more stupid than I was? or of a more unpleasing humour? Speak then Belesis, but speak to me as if I were not Cleodora, and tell me exactly, how came Leonisa to chase me out of your heart: for I should be glad to know whether I was violently thrust out, or came out with your goodwill: whether it was through your own weakness, or my fault? Belesis being so extremely importuned by Cleodora, knew not well what to answer: for he was so horridly ashamed of his inconstancy, he could not for his heart confess it: on the other side, he saw that he could not deny it: and that though he should seem to repent, and Cleodora inclinable to pardon him, yet it would be upon condition to forsake Leonisa, which he could not do: so that not knowing what answer to return, he spoke so ambiguously, that Cleodora was almost as angry at it, as at his inconstancy: Sincerity (said she) is a thing which every one may have: I will believe then, that you cannot love me, and that you cannot but love Leonisa; all this is honest: But could you not confess the truth unto me, and not add a crime unto your imbecility? What would you have me say Madam (replied Belesis) since at this present I know not what to think? I confess that I have loved you more than I do, but you yourself is the cause I do not love you as well as I did: since in the very heat of my passion, you put my patience to such rigid trial, as any other besides myself would have hated you. Then it seems, (said Cleodora sharply) according to your sense, that I am obliged unto you for passing from love only into indifferency? But know, (weak and unconstant man) that indifferency amongst persons that once loved dearly, is much more offensive than hatred, and therefore I ought to hate you more, because you did not hate me: But alas Madam, replied Belesis, would you have me sincere, when as my sincerity does only incense you more? Yet I should be glad you were, replied she, for I would know any thing that would not be advantageous unto you. All that I can do at this present (said he unto her) is to assure you that I never failed in my due respects of you, nor spoke one word against you to Leonisa, but I denied her your picture, therefore I conjure you, as you are generous, not to use hers ill. I understand you very well (said she unto him) you would have me restore it unto you: but since it will be more acceptable to receive it from her hand then from mine, I will restore it unto her, that she may give it you the second time. Oh I beseech you Madam, said he unto her, do not offer such a sensible displeasure unto a Lady who is not at all culpable: For suppose me to be an unconstant man, one that hath forsaken you, and betrayed you; yet Leonisa hath no other share in my crimes but in suffering me to see her. However it be, said Cleodora, it shall be as I say. I see then Madam, replied he, that you only seek a pretence for doing me an ill office unto Leonisa: But Madam, though you think I do not love you, yet I must needs interest myself in any thing which concerns you, when I see you are so ravished with joy that you can accuse me of inconstancy, lest I should tell you that Hermogenes hath made you an infidel. I would not advise you (said she unto him) to make use of any such ill policy, for it will not avail you; In the mean time, since you will have me know your real thoughts, I must tell you mine: Know then, that it is impossible any should have more horrid hatred, than I have of your inconstancy; nor less regret for losing that which is so easily lost. After this, pray go and seek for some crumbs of comfort from Leonisa, after you have been a whole long night without her picture: neither is she well, and did bid me tell every one that they should not visit her this day: but since perhaps you have some peculiar privilege, you may chance to see her: In the mean time, I pray prepare yourself to go any whither, so it be out of my sight, for I have so much credit with my Aunt, as I can obtain from her you shall not have the liberty to look into her house: without doubt the reason is (replied Belesis, not well knowing what he said) because you would have a handsome opportunity of seeing Hermogenes: without doubt the reason is, replied she, because I would see Belesis no more, neither inconstant, nor so bold as to tell me such things as he never thought: moreover, I pray do not measure my anger by the little bitterness which is in my words: for if I should follow my own natural Genius, I should tell you most strange things. But since you may imagine, that the greatness of my anger is a mark of the greatness of my affection which I had towards you: I will let you see, that I have so much power over myself, as to be an absolute Mistress of a passion which useth to be imperious, and hard to be kept within the limits of Reason. Belesis would have said something concerning Leonisa's Picture, and concerning Hermogenes, but the patience of Cleodora would not permit him, and therefore away he went. As soon as he was gone out of Cleodora's chamber, he went to seek some consolation in Leonisa's, having a mind to prepare her, lest Cleodora should do her an ill office: But when he came within two paces of the door, her woman told him, that none could see her mistrsse: but he so tampered with her, that he persuaded her to leave the door open, to the end it might be said he entered without speaking unto any: and accordingly this woman went in, and left the door half shut, as Belesis desired her. Then presently after he entered, and went to Leonisa's bedside undiscerned by any of the women which were in the other side of the chamber, she who left open the door ran unto him, seeming to be very angry that he entered, and ask pardon of her Mistress, who indeed was very angry. She would have desired him to go out again, but still he pressed forward, and Leonisa at last admitted of his visit: he was no sooner set, but he asked her why she should so cruelly drive him out of her chamber, at a time when he was most in need of consolation: The reason is, replied Leonisa very sharply, because resolving to drive you out of my heart, I began this day to drive you out of my chamber. Madam, said he unto her, I perceive Cleodora hath prejudicated your opinion of me. Ah Belesis, replied she, you see how she whom you named, repenting of her consent unto your cheat, hath discovered it unto me: Belesis hearing Leonisa speak so, was so astonished, that he knew not what to think of her words: for he knew but too well, that it was Cleodora whom he deceived, and that he never deceived Leonisa: Then he desired her, she would be pleased to let him know whereof she accused him. Leonisa, as plausible as she was, was so incensed with this demand, that she gave him a hundred bitter expressions, letting him understand the crime which she thought he had committed: Belesis then offered to justify himself, but she would not suffer him to speak, No, no said she unto him, you are culpable, and more than is imaginable: for why would you put my Picture into Cleodora's hands, and refused to trust me with hers? Was it not enough, that to satisfy her, you should dissemble love to me, and conceal the affection which you had, and yet have to her, but you must also triumph over my innocence, and my credulity, in giving her a Picture which I never gave you, and which I did only consent that you should keep, since I found you so discreet as not to part with Cleodora's? Alas Madam, said he, do you think that I did voluntarily give your picture unto Cleodora? I must needs think it, said she, for she could not take it from you by violence: Belesis then conjured her to admit of his justification. But she answered him, that she would sooner believe his eyes then his words, and say what he could, he could not obtain leave to speak; for Leonisa had such an extreme spite against him, because she thought he dissembled a love to her, that she could not suffer him to justify himself: yet had his importunity wearied her out, and he had obtained liberty to plead for himself, had not Leonisa's Aunt come in, who hearing that she kept her chamber, and would see none, came to see how she did: But she much wondered to see Belesis with her: I thought, said she unto Leonisa, to have found you sick by yourself: and in lieu of that. I find you well, in good, though not much company. I assure you, replied she a little troubled, that I am not a whit better for my company, and you would do me the greatest favour in the world, if you would move Belesis, who came in without permission, to go out without thanks, and leave me at rest, and in solitude, which is the best remedy against what I am troubled with. This grave Lady hearing her say so, and seeing both her eyes swelled, and her colour high, did easily believe that she was ill in her head: so that presenting her hand unto Belesis, she moved him to follow her, telling him with a smile, that she would acquaint him with a business which perhaps he knew not of; which was, that he should never visit Ladies at such times, when they had not a desire to be seen: for truly, said she unto him, I am very much deceived, if Leonisa pardon you this long time, for seeing her in her negligent dress: and I know by the colour which I observed in her face, that she was very angry: Belesis then made a hundred excuses unto this Lady, desiring at least to be in favour with her, who had power either to admit him into her house, or to drive him out. But his spirits being in a strange disorder, he did not continue long in returning handsome answers, but did so rove in his discourse, that she thinking he was weary of her, and that he could not endure the company of any but young persons, she grew very angry with him, and played upon him with a jeering kind of Rallary: so that poor Belesis went out of the house very ill satisfied with all that dwelled in it, and with himself also so much, that he complained more against himself then any of the rest. Sometimes he would upbraid himself with inconstancy, and repent that ever he quitted Cleodora: but he was no sooner in but out of that mind, and quarrelled with himself for being so respective of her: sometimes he would lay the fault upon Leonisas' credulity, and afterward accuse Cleodora of her old fantasticalness: nor did he spare Hermogenes, yet had he no convincing proofs against him, but thought that Leonisas' picture was it which discovered the truth unto Cleodora, who for her part was not without her share of inquietudes; desire of revenge did so transport her soul, that almost she did not value the ruin of Belesis, and hence it was that she received Hermogenes with extraordinary civility, whilst Belesis was with Leonisa. The first time she saw him, thanks for discovering the deceit of his friend, was his first congratulation: she called him her deliverer, and gave him such obliging Language, that if he had been less in love then he was, he had thought himself deeply obliged: but because all Cleodoras' candid favours were but so many symptoms of her affection to Belesis, though she did seem sore incensed against him, yet he could not relish them as favours to be rejoiced at, yet she told him so often, that she would never forget the service he had done her, that at last his hopes told him he might haply draw some advantage to himself by discovering his friend's inconstancy: but since he saw much turbulence in her spirit, he durst not solicit for that place in her heart which Belesis deserved to lose, and lent an ear unto all her bitter exclamations against the Perfidy of Belesis without any expressions of his own passion, further than with the language of his eyes only. After she had told him that she had the Picture of Leonisa, and herself; and had related all Belesis told her: Hermogenes (said she) I do not think it enough that you have revealed his crime: but you must also help me to punish him. Provided that you will give me but apart of those possessions wherewith you enriched him, replied he, I shall be ready to assist you in your revenge, and after that defend them against all the world. It appears that the possessions you speak of were of no great value, since Belesis did so willingly part from them: but Hermogenes, it is not now time to talk of such things, since I need no additions unto my misfortunes, therefore I conjure you to tell me sincerely whether you will assist me to be revenged upon Belesis; for unless you will, I shall quite forget your service in discovering his crime. I beseech you Madam, replied he, first tell me what kind of revenge you intent before I promise you any thing? not that I think I can deny you any thing, nor that I do suspect you are capable of obliging me unto any thing which becomes not a man of honour: But I must confess, I have already done Belesis so great a mischief, in taking from him your esteem and affection, by acquainting you with his inconstancy, that I have a great desire to know what more you would have me to do: I would have you, said she unto him, employ that credit which I know you have with the Prince of Susa, and with the friends of Tisias, that the last of these may marry Leonisa, you know that he hath a great desire unto it, and there are some reasons why both families should forward the motion, and likewise some, why they should oppose it: and because I know you are able to surmount all obstacles, and bring it about, I conjure you to negotiate the business. I can assure you, that in the humour she now is, and wherein I will keep her as long as I can, she will marry who one will. I wish Madam, replied Hermogenes, that this desire of revenge would infuse into your soul, a favourable inclination to receive my services. I shall most willingly receive this service which I require, replied she; But Madam, answered he, I see you do admirably well contrive your own revenge, and you could not do it more fully then by taking Leonisa from Belesis,: but I do not perceive you have any consideration of the interest which I might have in this revenge: do not you consider divine Cleodora, that by putting Leonisa into such a condition, as she can never be married to Belesis, you put Belesis into a way of returning unto Cleodora● though he should, said she, he should return in vain: moreover Madam, pursued Hermogenes, I must tell you, that my love to you does so perfectly tell me what the sorrows of a man would be, from whom all hopes of enjoying his Mistress is taken away, that how great soever my desires are to please you, yet I am extremely unwilling to obey you, therefore I beseech you think of some other way to punish Belesis: As he is not my Rival, since now he does not love you, I must confess, I cannot leave loving him as my friend; not but that he hath denied me many things, which exceedingly incensed me against him, but for all that, I cannot commit this treason against him: I know well that I have revealed his crime unto you, but it was because in doing so I did not take from him that person whom he desired to enjoy. Therefore Madam, I beseech you once more, move me not unto a thing for which you will hereafter upbraid me, when the heat of your anger is over, and your reason free: revenge yourself upon Belesis, in forgetting him: or if you cannot forget him, remember him only to hate him, and to detest his inconstancy: and if you will punish him further yet, I beseech you make me so happy, that my felicity may create a horrid envy in him: in letting him know that he hath quitted Diamonds for glass in forsaking Cleodora for Leonisa. No, no Hermogenes, replied she, I am not capable of this generosity which you would persuade me unto, and which perhaps proceeds not from your heart, but because there is in you a little disposition to oblige me. Alas Madam, said Hermogenes, you do not know me, if you think it want of affection which makes me speak thus: you know me worse than I know you, replied she, if you think I can keep any measure in my revenge: and not see that you have no disposition to do me service: for the truth is, said she, if you will do me any, you must assist me with your transaction, that Tisias may marry Leonisa, or that Hermogenes never see Cleodora again. Oh Madam, said he unto her, for heaven's sake have some care of my honour: and force me not to a thing which will render me odious in the eyes of all the Court: I do not intend, replied she, that you should publicly speak of a marriage between Tisias and Leonisa, but I would have you go cunningly to work, and negotiate it with all secrecy; truly Madam, said he unto her, since you force me to tell you my thoughts, I must manifest unto you, that I will not refuse you out of generosity only, but out of love also: for Madam, what hatred soever you resent against Belesis, or what love soever he bears unto Cleodora, I shall never be at rest as long as I see any possibility of your uniting together: after this Madam, you may imagine, that it is not for want of affection that I refuse what you desire of me: what ever it be, replied she, it seems you refuse me, and refuse to do the thing which I most desire of any thing in the world; But for all that, since I have no right to force your will, I will dispense with you from your obedience: and the rather because I do Fancy another way to bring my design to pass without your help, and I am not sorry that I shall not engage myself unto you by it. Hermogenes, thinking Cleodora was incensed against him, began to give very obliging Language; protesting unto her, that what ever he said, yet if it were her Positive pleasure, he would obey her, though his honour and life and all would be at the stake: so that Cleodora took him immediately at his word. But Madam, said he unto her, that I may have some Colourable excuse wherewith to answer those that know my Crime, I beseech you what recompense may I hope for if I do as you desire me: even any thing, answered she, for I must confess unto you, that if I could prevent Belesis from obtaining Leonisa, I should be fuller of joy than I am able to express, and by consequence so obliged unto you, that I will put no limits unto your hopes, provided they be just. Then Madam replied Hermogenes, since I see so much sweetness in your expression, I shall conjure you, that if I hinder Belesis from Leonisa, you shall give Cleodora unto Hermogenes. No, no Hermogenes, said she unto him, I will not capitulate with those I would have do me any good office; and I wonder how you dare be so bold as to ask me any such thing: otherwise Madam, answered he, how can you conceive, (since I am so deeply in love with you) that I can hinder Belesis from marrying Leonisa, since I ought so earnestly to wish the marriage? and how can I choose but suspect and fear that you have some secret design in it, if you will not engage yourself unto any thing, and therefore Madam, since if I break off that marriage, it is not impossible but he may repent, and you may pardon him; I beseech you take it not ill, if I be very unwilling to hinder that match which may cause yours with Belesis. Then I see Hermogenes, (said she unto him) that you will not do this good office which I would have you; and the less to disoblige me, you pretend a resentment of love, though indeed it be only a resentment of generosity: I will not much blame you for it, for I have not yet absolutely lost my reason: neither have I any great reason to commend you, since you have denied that which I did most desire. In the mean time since you cannot satisfy my desires, unless upon such a condition, as I will not engage myself into: yet I pray you let the same generosity, which will not permit you to betray your friend, keep you from betraying her that trusts you with her secrets, and her revenge. Hermogenes seeing Cleodora would not promise what he desired, did believe that she would only have Tisias marry Leonisa, to the end that Belesis might thereby be out of all hopes of enjoying her, and so return unto her again: and therefore resolving not to do a thing which he thought prejudicial both to his honour and his love, did excuse his denial with a hundred expressions of sorrow, and in such a sensible manner, that she plainly saw he was as full of virtue as love, so that they did not part upon very ill terms. Hermogenes had one imagination which proved very advantageous for him; For since he perceived the mind of Cleodora was filled only with thoughts of revenge upon Belesis, he did cunningly hint unto her, that though his jealousy was but counterfeit, yet he could not be more sensibly vexed then to hear that Belesis did visit her, and that she did not slight him; 'tis true, he used much art in his expressions, fearing Cleodora should attribute his thoughts unto jealousy, and he applied his words so ingenuously, that Cleodora called Belesis a hundred times fantastical, as well as inconstant. So as in that humour she was then in, she would not neglect the least thing that might displease Belesis, and therefore she resolved to speak ofter unto Hermogenes than she used, and also to treat him incomparably better. In the mean time, since she had one friend that was much in favour with the prince of Susa, and had a prevalent power both with him and Tisias, she plotted how to make use of him, though at first it went against her mind to trust herself unto any one who knew nothing of her secrets. But as sweet revenge will surmount all obstacles, she transacted with this friend, who was able to accomplish her desires, and managed the matter with so much subtlety, that the Prince of Susa, and Tisias did earnestly desire this marriage. The first of these, for some reasons of state which required this alliance, and the other, because so many impediments being now removed which obstructed his love, he was hotter than ever to marry Leonisa. As for her, since she had been foiled with the deceits of Belesis, her heart began to lean after ambition, and harkened unto a marriage with Tisias: 'tis true, the counsels of Cleodora did much prompt her unto it, and so much the sooner, because she saw Cleodora resolved never to see Belesis again, and because she saw her treat Hermogenes much better. Thus thinking herself disinterested, she thought she might do as she pleased: so that when the poor Belesis came to visit Leonisa, he was in a perplexed condition, for since it did extremely concern Cleodora that he should have no private conference with Leonisa, also Leonisa thinking Belesis to be in love with her Cousin, she was not sorry he did not speak unto her; They promised not to leave each other until the marriage with Tisias which was plotted in secret was solemnised: so that when Belesis waited for an opportunity to Justify himself unto Leonisa, and appease Cleodora, he found them continually together, and could not speak with them asunder. But that which did most stick upon his stomach, was, that Tisias commonly was continually talking with Leonisa, and Hermogenes with Cleodora; and indeed Sir, the poor Belasis did fret with no less impatience to see Cleodora speak so civilly unto Hermogenes, then to see that Leonisa would not speak unto him at all, or if she did, it was but some interrupted word, and that in anger: so that though he had equally loved Cleodora, and Leonisa, yet he could not have done more than he did, and to speak sincerely, I verily believe that the love of Hermogenes to Cleodora did enkindle in his heart some embers of his first love: he grew to that height, as almost to hate his friend: they never saw one another unless at Cleodora Aunts, whither Belesis could not choose but go, and whither he never went but he received a fresh discontent. For since Leonisa thought herself deluded, she began to hate him: and since Cleodora saw that her favouring Hermogenes, perplexed him: she doubled her civilities to Hermogenes; the business was so carried, that Belesis and Hermogenes were ready to quarrel two or three times: and if I had not been present one day by accident, certainly some hurt had ensued: but that which ruined Belesis, raised the designs of Hermogenes; For Cleodora imagining how Belesis would be incensed if she should marry Hermogenes, she permitted him secretly to ask the consent of her Parents, to the end that Leonisas' marriage and hers might be published both together, conceiving it would overwhelm him with sorrows, to hear of such a shower of perplexities all at once. And indeed the business was carried so secretly, and went on so prosperously in a few days, that all their kindred consented, and all seemed to be made up: Tisias, and Hermogenes, were the only favourites, in somuch as Hermogenes, having one day found the picture which Cleodora gave Belesis, and which she took from him again, he desired it of her, and she gave it unto him: as for the picture of Leonisa, she had taken it out of the case, and restored it unto her. Thus was Hermogenes enriched, with the ruins of his friend: Not that Cleodora did love Hermogenes, but because revenge relished so sweet in her mind, that she reflected upon nothing but what might hasten it: Whilst things were thus carried, Belesis led the most miserable life of any man in the world: for his soul was so sunk with sorrows, that he never thought either of Cleodora or Leonisa, and he hated both Hermogenes and Tisias: at first his thoughts and desires were very different concerning these two Ladies: for he desired to enjoy Leonisa, and only desired that Hermogenes might not enjoy Cleodora: but afterwards, according to the measure that Cleodora favoured Hermogenes, so did the thoughts of Belesis grow more tender towards her; His shame of his inconstancy augmented: and his love to Leonisa did not lessen: So that he was the most miserable of men: This being the state of things, two passages above all the rest, did swell his sorrows; the one was, he heard Hermogenes had the picture which once was in his possession, and the other was, that the Prince of Susa solicited for the marriage of Tisias with Leonisa, and that the match was as good as made up, and the marriage would be solemnised within two days. I shall not need Sir, to relate all the raptures of his soul upon this news; for my story is too long already: and because you may easily guess them, I shall only tell you Sir, that since the marriage of Tisias most pinched him, and his love of Leonisa was was the Predominate passion of his heart, he resolved to quarrel with Tisias upon some other pretence, before the business went any further: so that meeting him at the temple the next morning, he went out with him as if without design; they fell upon a discourse of news and war, and Belesis did obstinately contradict all that Tisias said; for his design was to move Tisias to begin the quarrel, because knowing the hasty humour of the Susanian Prince, he apprehended he should be banished, if it appeared that it was he who assaulted the man whom he loved. But since Tisias was a man of more heart than spirit, it was a long time before he would be provoked, yet Belesis urged him so far, that Tisias drew his sword first: but it was so little before Belesis, that notwithstanding it, he received the first blow. Their fight was furious, and if bystanders had not parted them, they had died both upon the place: yet do what all could, both were wounded: and yet Belesis so slightly, that he never kept his bed for it, since it was only upon his left arm. But Tisias was much worse. for he received two dangerous hurts, and had much the worse of the combat: for besides his two wounds, Belesis seeing company come in to part them, he closed with him and disarmed him by force: In the mean while, though this quarrel was conceived to be only casual in heat of blood, the Prince of Susa was much incensed against Belesis: for though he loved Belesis well enough at his first coming to Susa; yet Tisias being his great favourite, all matters were made worse against Belesis: so that there was none, but such as were altogether uninterrested persons, or such as were very generous, who came to visit him: but all the crowd was upon Tisias, as the man that was the Prince's favourite. But as for Hermogenes, since he was very Generous, he went to visit him, and offer himself unto his friend. Chance was, that I was there when he came, and I was a witness of their meeting: 'tis true, I much wondered to see with what hollowness Belesis, received Hermogenes: so that fearing a long discourse might draw on some quarrel, I told Hermogenes, that I desired to talk with him upon some business; and carried him away with me, extremely wondering at the proceedings of Belesis: In the mean time, this combat did highly incense Cleodora against him, and confirmed her in her design of revenge, by hindering him of Leonisa, and marrying Hermogenes, especially when she understood with what coldness he received his visit. On the other side, the Prince of Susa did express so much displeasure against Belesis, that his friend told him there was no safety for him to stay in court, and they advised him at least to keep his lodging for some days. Yet all could not persuade him not to go out, because needs would he go and be satisfied; whether Cleodoras' picture was in the hands of Hermogenes. And as he went one morning unto him, under pretence of giving him a visit; he understood by the way, that his marriage with Cleodora was resolved upon, and that within few days; it would be solemnised: It is impossible to relate how the heart of Belesis trembled, but when he had recollected himself, in lieu of going to Hermogenes as he intended, he went to walk in a private place, behind the house where he dwelled: after he had long mused, and digested his anger, he resolved to hinder the marriage, at what rate so ever: and his love formerly to Cleodora began to resume such force in his heart, that it amazed himself: Being then full of these fantastical and strange thoughts, he went towards the house of Hermogenes, and in his way he met Cleodora in her coach: Her hood being up, he saw her so fair that time, that his eyes were never so full of wonder at her beauty: Since she saw him, he prepared to salute her, but she turned her head aside in a scornful manner, and by that action did kindle the fire, which begun so violently to sparkle. Belesis then continued on his way to Hermogenes, where accidentally I met him; since he knew I was not ignorant of all passages between them, my presence was no hindrance unto him from speaking; He no sooner entered, but addressing his speech unto Hermogenes, Will you not restore me the treasure which you have taken from me (said he unto him) and which I would have trusted you withal; if it be of my friendship which you mean, replied Hermogenes, I can assure you, that I never took it from you, and therefore you may easily find it where it was. No Hermogenes said he unto him, I mean not that: for I doubt not but maugre all my misfortunes, you have preserved that: But it is Cleodora which I demand: Cleodora, I say, unto whom I entreated you to dissemble love, but never permitted you to love her really: therefore I conjure you to dispute with me no longer about her: if love were a thing voluntary (replied Hermogenes) I should think you had reason to speak thus unto me: But Belesis, you yourself know very well by your own experience, that one cannot leave to love when one will, and by the same reason, one does not always love where one would: for if it were so, I am persuaded you would never have quitted Cleodora for Leonisa: but I understand very well, why you speak thus unto me: since it is not likely but the man who fought with Tisias, to prevent his marriage with Leonisa, will at the same time think upon Cleodora, whom he hath incensed by that combat: when I fought with Tisias (replied he) I knew not that Hermogenes was to marry Cleodora: than it seems (replied Hermogenes) it is more out of hate to me, then love to her, that you oppose my good fortune. No replied Belesis, but it is because as to my misfortune I did in an instant leave my love of Cleodora, for the love of Leonisa, so now I leave my love of Leonisa, for the love of Cleodora. I know not whether the losing my hopes of enjoying Leonisa, will contribute any thing to the extinguishing of that fire which flamed towards her, to enlighten another in my heart: but I am most certain that I no sooner knew Cleodora was to be yours, but my old passion which was lurking in my heart, began to break forth into a flame again, and that with much violence; as I think I shall lose my wits, unless you have pity of me. I must confess Sir, that I was never in my life so amazed, as when I heard Belesis speak so. Hermogenes, as you may well imagine was in the same condition, and knew not well what to answer; for though he knew Cleodora had consented to marry him, yet it was rather out of revenge upon Belesis, then out of any intention to make him happy: and therefore he had strange apprehensions, lest Cleodora should come to the knowledge of his repentance, and repent herself also. Therefore, beginning to answer, I know very well, said he unto him, that what I shall say will much trouble you; but since it is necessary that you know it, both for your tranquillity and mine own; I must tell you, that though I should consent, yet it is a thing impossible for you, ever to be happy in the enjoyment of Cleodora, since she is so incensed against you, that it may truly be said she now hates you, as much as she loved you before: it is because she hates me, replied Belesis, that I hope she will love me; for if her soul were only upon terms of indifference, or that she scorned me, I should for ever have despair of pardon: but since she does not, I beseech you let me have no other obstacle but Cleodora herself: moreover (said he unto him) I know that she gave you a picture, which indeed she could not give, because she gave it unto me first, therefore I pray you restore it unto me. But is it possible (said I unto him, and interrupted him) that this you say should be really true? Can I believe that the man which within this eight hours said he could love none but Leonisa, should now love none but Cleodora? I cannot well express my thoughts (said he unto us) for there is such a multitude of things which at once do overpresse my heart, that I cannot utter them; all I can say unto you is, that I know the gods are resolved to punish me for my inconstancy; and therefore I do most cordially repent of it: I am confident that within this eight hours, neither Cleodora, nor Leonisa hated me; yet by a most fatal turn, I am like to lose them both, and that in the most cruel manner. For Leonisa is ravished from me by a man, whom of all living I most scorned; and Cleodora by him, whom I most dearly loved. To speak my mind really unto you (said I and interrupted him) you can blame none but yourself, for your misfortune; I know very well, replied he, that I am culpable; I see my request unto Hermogenes is not just; yet since the love of Cleodora, took first root in my heart, me thinks Hermogenes might pity my weakness I do very much pity you, replied Hermogenes, but me thinks I ought to pity myself also: However my dear Hermogenes (said he unto him) I beseech you for heaven's sake, oblige me, and tell me sincerely whether you think Cleodora does really love you? or whether it be only spite against me that moves her to let you serve her. I know very well your merit is much above mine, and therefore, since I had the honour once not to be hated, it may not be impossible, but she may now love you: However I beg this favour from you, to tell me what you think, protesting unto you, that if you will swear as you are a man of honour, that you think she loves you as well as she loved me, I will never seek for any other remedy against my misery but death: All that I can tell you, is (replied Hermogenes who could not tell all his thoughts) that I am persuaded Cleodora hates you, and I know she consents that I shall marry her, This is enough to let me know, replied he, that you are not upon such good terms with her, therefore I conjure you to permit me so much favour as to speak once more in private with Cleodora: For if she love you so well as not to value my repentance you will be the more happy: And if I be so happy as to reduce her unto the same terms she formerly was, you will be a gainer by that also, since it would have been but half a happiness for you, to marry a woman whose affection was but weak towards you, therefore, I beseech you, deny me not this request: I confess, that since I thought the request of Belesis to be something reasonable, I endeavoured to persuade Hermogenes unto a consent, but he would not by any means hearken unto it. In the mean time, the more he denied, the more hopes Belesis had that he was not quite rooted out of Cleodoras' heart, so that having no hopes at all from Leonisa, but conceiving some glimpse from Cleodora, his passion did much increase: Seeing than that Hermogenes would not by any means consent he should speak unto her, he began to ask the picture which he had: But Hermogens replied, that he ought not to take any notice whether it was his or no, it sufficed that he received it from Cleodora; and therefore he would not restore it to him: As I had blamed Hermogenes a little before, because he so obstinately refused to let Belesis speak unto Cleodora: so afterwards I blamed Belesis for pressing his friend, to restore a picture, which he had not from him. In the interim, since I did extremely fear that being alone with them, I could not hinder them from being too sharp and high, I, told them that being both possessed with one too violent a passion; to speak of their interests with moderation, I desired, that for the time to come, they might know each others pretensions only by me: Adding further, that when they were separated I should tell them something which I could not tell them in their presence. So that temporing their minds, as well as I could: I got them to part without a quarrel: After which, I went sometimes to the one, and sometimes to the other, not knowing which side to take: For when I was with Belesis, he repented so bitterly of his inconstancy, that he moved me to pity him: and when I saw Hermogenes, he would persuade me that right was on his side: for said he unto me if Belesis had never forsaken Cleodora, I should then not only have never fall'n in love with her, but if I had, I should have restrained myself out of respect unto the laws of friendship: But since he forced me to see her often, and entreated me to dissemble love unto her; and now to bar me from seeing her any more, but to ravish out of my heart a love which he himself caused, that is a thing which I neither can, nor aught, nor will do: on the other side, said Belesis to me is it just, that because I entreated Hermogenes only to see a Lady whom I loved, that he should therefore rob me of her? does he not know that ever since the first time he asked me leave to discover my inconstancy unto her, I told him, that I would never suffer him; might he not well imagine that I neither would, nor aught, to do it but out of resentment of love, though he gave it another phrase? Can one be Jealous without affection unto the party of whom he is Jealous? might not Hermogenes rather think I loved two persons at once, then to think me jealous of him without being in love with Cleodora? Afterwards (said he unto me) my demand was but just, when I propounded to let Cleodora judge the difference between us, and that he would suffer me to see and speak to her; for if after that she would have chosen him, I would have left Susa, and should have gone unto some place far off from hence, where I might have hid myself from the acquaintance of men; where neither he nor Cleodora should have heard any more of me. After this Belesis began to aggravate his misfortunes, until anger did so swell his spirits, that never remembering his love or friendship to Hermogenes, he said that he was not able to suffer him to marry Cleodora. In the mean while, the Prince of Susa hearing that Belesis stirred out of his lodging, was so incensed against him, that I was advertized, he intended to give command that he should retire himself. And I understood that Tisias (thinking that whilst he could not stir out, Belesis might perhaps work upon the spirit of Leonisa against him) had moved the Prince of Susa, upon some Colourable pretence or other to place Leonisa about the Queen, until he was perfectly recovered of his wounds: So that fearing some mischief was plotted against my friend, I conjured him to quit Susa for some certain days: but he told me that he would never quit it until he had spoken with Cleodora, and that in private. He told me how that he had been several times at her house; but he was always answered by them that she was not within, or would not be seen: Adding that if Hermogenes would enjoy her in quietness, it were his best course to procure him a sight of her: When I therefore perceived the obstinacy of Belesis, I went unto his friend, in hopes to do some good upon him: but found him as resolute as a Rock which would not be moved: So that when I saw I could make no good end between them, I went privately unto Cleodora to let her know the state of things, and that her prudence might prevent all mischief, and order the business between them; for they being both my friends, I knew not how to be partial, and to prefer one before another: I had no sooner acquainted Cleodora how things were between Belesis and Hermogenes, but she said that the last of these did her wrong to tell his friend she would not see him, she seemed to be much surprised, and very unquiet: Yet afterwards she used so many expressions of anger against Belesis, as I thought he would find no great satisfaction in seeing her: But since he did so vehemently desire it, and since I could not persuade him to go out of Susa until he heard his sentence of death pronounced from her own mouth, I beseched her to let him have the opportunity to see her, but she would not consent unto it; Yet for all this, I had a conceit that if I did deceive her, and find out a way for Belesis to see her, she would pardon me; So therefore thinking to advance the happiness of Hermogenes by advancing the departure of Belesis, who would not stir from Susa till he spoke with Cleodora, I ordered the business so, that the next morning, I employed Hermogenes in some business another way, and one of my Cosens carried Cleodora to see a new built palace, which for its curiosity, every one went to see it, since it was yet uninhabited; Belesis who had his instructions failed not to be there; & my cousin conducted Cleodora unto a Gallery, where leaving the rest of her women, she carried her into a chamber, & within that chamber a closet where Belesis was waiting for Cleodora; she no sooner saw him, but she started back, & would needs go out again; he falling upon his knees, and having hold of her gown; For God & Heaven's sake Madam (said he unto her) give me but one hours hearing, I conjure you. 'Twas to that end this charitable woman brought you hither; Give me leave therefore Madam to beg your pardon, and to beg it in a flood of tears. Provided you will give me leave to deny you all you ask (said she unto him) I shall consent to give you audience. If I demand death Madam, will you deny me that also▪ (said he unto her) doubtless I would deny you that, replied she, not only because the punishment which you deserve would not be long enough if you died so soon, but because it sufficeth that you have desired something, which I cannot consent unto, how ever it be Madam (said he unto her) if it be only to chide me, yet I beseech you hear me, & hear me with patience, whilst these two were thus in discourse; she who brought Cleodora in the house went unto the rest of the women which were in the Gallery, & did amuse them with showing them pictures, & other such talk, so that Belesis seeing he could talk and not be understood: Give me leave Madam (said he unto her, fore I ask you pardon, to assure you that this Belesis whom you see at your feet, is the very same Belesis whom heretofore you were pleased to prefer before any other. And so I do still, said she, for I think you so much different from all other men, that I think you do incomparably excel them all. However it be Madam, said he, I am most certain of one thing, which is, that my heart was never so full of love unto you as now; Oh, I wish with all my soul, replied she, that you spoke truth; and I wish with all my soul Madam, said he, that you did really desire it; No, no, Belesis, answered Cleodora, I was not far from my real thoughts, when I said that I should be even ravished with joy, to be certain that you were desperately in love with me; But you do extremely mistake my meaning if you think I make this wish with any intentions to accept of your affection; Since I do not wish you should love me for any other reason, but that I might thereby punish you for ceasing to love me before. I confess Madam (replied he) that I am the most to blame of any man alive, for doing as I lately did; But Madam I beseech you do not too severely look upon the most extravagant act of all my life; or if you do look upon it, let it be as upon a subject whereupon to exercise your goodness; Forgiveness Madam does most resemble divinity, and by consequence yourself; To what purpose is clemency, but to forgive; and this is the operation, that when it is extended in the greatest measure, it converts the greatest offenders to become the greatest lovers; Moreover Madam, do not think, I beseech you that I did absolutely cease to love you, at that very time when I seemed to be most in love with Leonisa; She can tell you that I would never be moved to acquaint her with the least passage which had been between us, nor could I ever endure that my best friend should ever love you; and therefore it must by necessary consequence be concluded that I ever loved you; Not that by this I intent to justify myself; But that I would if I could something lessen my crime, to the end you may the sooner pardon it; Before I can ever have such a thought, replied Cleodora, I must lose my wits: for inconstancy is a crime of such a nature, as is absolutely impardonable: But I beseech you Madam, replied he, did not you yourself so behave yourself towards Hermogenes in such a manner as might very well make me believe that you were guilty of the same crime wherewith you tax me? When I observed, replied Cleodora, that out of a most fantastical humour you were angry I should begin to love Hermogenes, I must confess that ever since the first time I perceived you loved Leonisa, I would not undeceive you: think on therefore, if it anger you, that I do love him, and did love him, and more than that, ever will love him: for I assure you, that you cannot please me better than to torment yourself: But Madam, I beseech you (replied he) do you not fear to drive me into a horrid despair; and to make me rush upon any rude attempts, which a man desperately in love may do, when he has lost his reason and wits? No Belesis, replied she, I apprehend no such danger, for I heard say and believe it, that a man of a divided heart is not capable of over violent passions: But Madam, replied he, my heart is none but yours, nor ever shall be any others. Can you be so impudent, replied she, as to make any apology for yourself, after your weathercock inconstancy? for my part since I use to judge of the future by what is past, I am confident I should love you to morrow again, and you would say the same unto Leonisa which now you do unto me: and perhaps forgetting both her & me the third day, you will make a fresh address to a third: Alas Madam, said Belesis, can you not find a heart to pardon me: And will you not have any conficence in my affection? no doubtless, (replied she) for how is it possible you should give me any assurance of it: Since you cast me off when I was as handsome as ever I was or ever shall be, and at a time when I was most affable and complacential to you? What can I trust unto? to your words which you have so ill kept? or to your oaths which you have so wickedly falsified? No Madam (said Belesis, and interrupted her) you may trust unto my repentance. That is, divine Cleodora, which will preserve me from inconstancy for the future; for I am so horridly ashamed of my crime, that it will most certainly prevent a relapse: I cannot believe it (answered she very sharply) and I assure you, that I do interest myself so little in any thing which relates unto you (except in such things as may vex you) that I care not a straw what befalls you. In the mean time, I must tell you, that I would not have you seek for any more opportunities of speaking to me, unless you would have me put a thousand incivilities upon you before all the world:  
But Madam, (replied he) though all my past services are lost, and though I am quite ruined in your opinion, yet I cannot choose but beseech you to obliterate all past crimes, and to suffer me to begin upon a new score of love, as if I had never loved you before: and then if you be not satisfied with my fidelity, treat me as the most vile, base, and infamous man that lives; and may you marry Hermogenes: and until then, give me leave to tell you Madam, that I cannot endure him. Yet I will marry him, replied she, since my parents consent unto it, therefore the best course you can take for your own tranquillity, is to endure him, and say nothing, rather than nothing to the purpose; for all you can say shall be in vain, Moreover, never think of speaking unto Hermogenes, unless you will augment my hatred, and my scorn of you: In the mean time, you may hope to your comfort, that perhaps, Tisias will die of his wounds, and then you may return unto Leonisa, and quit me the second time: for since she is of a much more sweet and affable disposition than I am, doubtless she will receive you more kindly than I shall. And after that Belesis, I have no more to say unto you, unless to assure you, that when you have quitted me for Leonisa, I shall have such thoughts of you, as shall deserve that you become more faithful than you have been. These Belesis are all the advantageous thoughts I can have of you: After these words Cleodora rose up, and say what Belesis could she left him complaining against her that deluded him: But Sir, that which was most rare in this encounter was, that this conference produced different effects in the hearts of Cleodora and Belesis. For this imperious Lady was extremely joyed, to know by the eyes of Belesis he was the same to her as formerly he had been, though it was without any intention to pardon him, but only to make him more miserable: So that she published to all the world her marriage with Hermogenes, as a thing which much pleased her: As for Belesis, he parted from Cleodora, more in love with her then ever he was: so that extremely wondering at his love of Leonisa, he looked upon her as the cause of his losing Cleodora, and began to hate her extremely. Being thus in a most horrible despair, he came unto me to tell me, that he found Cleodora absolutely inexorable; but that for all this, he could not endure Hermogenes should marry her. I used my best rhetoric to persuade him to it, but all in vain: I hinted unto him what he had said unto Hermogenes, that if Cleodora should make choice of him after he had talked with her, then that he would let him alone in quietness. But he told me, that he was not obliged by any such promises, as were impossible to be kept; so that not knowing how to prevent that inconveniency which I feared, I told him that the Prince of Susa would banish him the Town, I hoping that time and absence would settle his soul: But although Belesis received this command that same day, yet was he not so quick in his obedience; but did something to obey it, for he did conceal himself some days in the Town: In the interim, he writ divers times to Cleodora without receiving any answer: also he saw Hermogenes once: but Hermogenes gave him such satisfactory and prevalent reasons, that they parted without a quarrel as Belesis intended: for in the very heat of his love; he still retained a great love of Hermogenes. Whilst he was in Hermogenes his Closet, he spied the picture of Cleodora, lying upon a Cabinet; and being transported with violence of passion, he took it, whilst his friend was gone to speak with one who asked for him: I do confess, I saw him commit this theft: but since I knew Hermogenes was ere long to marry Cleodora, and that Belesis would depart the Town within two days, I did not oppose him: but fearing lest during those two days some sad consequence might follow, I stayed with Hermogenes, and told him how it was, desiring and conjuring him not to deny so small a consolation to his friend: and indeed Hermogenes promised me to take no notice of it, though the loss of this Picture did exceedingly trouble him. In the mean time Tisias thought himself all happiness; his marriage and Hermogenes his also, was published to be both in one day: and all preparations were providing to render the solemnities joyful. But during this while, Belesis, Hermogenes, and Cleodora were not without their unquietudes. The first of these, as you may well imagine, had cause enough: Hermogenes also, though ready to marry Cleodora, yet thought himself not satisfied, because he saw she was extremely melancholy: And Cleodora was as sad as any, for though her heart was full of sweet revenge upon Belesis, yet she was to be revenged upon him, by being revenged upon herself: But whilst they were all in their discontents, Leonisa, whose ambition recompensed the loss of Belesis, knowing that he was concealed in Susa: And fearing, that it was only to be an obstacle to her greatness, desired Tisias to move the Prince of Susa, that he might be searched for, and secured: so that Belesis hearing of this, and fearing to fall into the hands of a violent and incensed Prince, resolved to leave Susa: but before he went, he heard that the marriages between Tisias and Leonisa, and between Hermogenes, and Cleodora were to be solemnised the day after: For my part, I went with him some two hundred furlongs out of Susa; but I never in all my life saw so sad a soul, as Belesis had at that time: At parting, he gave two letters unto one of his servants, the one for Cleodora, the other for Hermogenes, with order to deliver them into their own hands before he departed: That which did a little perplex me at parting was, that I saw he sent all his train and equipage into his own Country, with a letter to his father; and that he would retain none with him but one slave, having no mind to tell me what his design was, nor whither he went: In the mean time the messenger with the letters did not fail in his Commission. Since it was very early, for Belesis went out of Susa by break of day, he went unto Hermogenes before he went unto Cleodora, and gave him a letter, which was thus indicted.  
BELESIS UNTO HERMOGENES.  
I Think you will not complain against me for taking Cleodora's Picture, since I leave you in possession of Cleodora herself: I cannot deny, but that if I had found any inclination in the heart of that fair One, to pardon me, I would have contested for her till death: and I confess my sorrows to depart before I have given you some testimonies of my resentments, for the troubles you have put me unto; yet since I have taken up a resolution to punish none of all those that were causes of my miserable misfortune, I entreat you to acknowledge my moderation, and to let me make one request unto you: Which is, that when you are in possession of Cleodora, you would not insult over an unfortunate lover, whom you have made miserable, and not put her in memory of that inconstancy, whereof you yourself have have been a confident. This is the only desire which an unfortunate man will ever ask of you as long as he lives: who having found no compassion in the heart of his friend, nor sweetness towards him in the mind of his Mistress, will for ever renounce the society of men and women.  
Belesis.  
Hermogenes received this letter with some resentment of tenderness, but for all that, he was not sorry for the departure of Belesis: and his hopes of marrying Cleodora the next morning, made him so full of joy, that he could not very much condole the misfortune of his friend. But as the letter of Belesis to Hermogenes, had no great operation upon his soul; yet that to Cleodora produced considerable effects: for it was so full of moving expressions, that unless her heart had been made of marble, it would have moved compassion: and certainly it made such a deep impression in her mind, that when Cleodora showed it unto me, I asked her a copy of it; and though I never read it but once, yet I shall never forget it: The words were these.  
BELESIS UNTO CLEODORA.  
Madam,  
I Have so well deserved all the torments which I endure, that I cannot accuse you of any Injustice: and I am so really repentant, that I do not think it fit to murmur against your goodness, though it would not grant me a pardon: In the mean time I respect you so much irreconcilable as you are, that I will not complain either against you, nor against Hermogenes, nor any else but myself: and to let you see that I should have been faithful unto you, I promise you, to live in some place far from hence: I pass my word, that I will think of nothing else but you, all the rest of my miserable life: and since I became criminal by the sight of One whom I ought not to have looked upon, but for the love of you, I will never look upon any whosoever, but one servant which I will carry with me, to the end that when I am dead he may relate unto you the constancy of him whom you banished for his inconstancy. I am confident that if he be faithful, he will draw tears from your fair eyes, and will perhaps make you grieve for the death of him whose life you have made most miserable.  
Belesis.  
When Cleodora received this letter, her mind was extremely unquieted, and though she was ready to marry Hermogenes, yet her sweet desire of revenge upon Belesis was converted into extreme sorrow for him: and though she exceedingly esteemed Hermogenes, yet her soul not being able to love any but Belesis, she discovered, that notwithstanding all her resentments, and her anger against him, her heart was never quite disengaged from him: she received his letter with a blush, and opened it with extreme beating of heart: she began to read it with a sigh, and ended it with a shower of tears: In short Sir, Cleodora saw she could not marry Hermogenes, and that she still loved Belesis: In the mean time all things were prepared for her marriage, and she saw an impossibility of recalling Belesis: Not knowing then what to do, she deferred her marriage, purposely to consider what was to be resolved upon: and to that end she feigned herself to be sick, and went to bed. Hermogenes hearing this, he was exceedingly troubled, not only because she whom he loved was not well, and because his happiness was deferred, but also because he had some suspicion of the truth: he went then to see Cleodora in all haste, but he was told by orders from her, that she was asleep, yet he came so often, that she was forced to let him see her, but she spoke very little to him, and that she did speak was only in complaining of her sickness, and pain, which she did really endure, though it was of an other nature than she complained of: Thus the marriage of Hermogenes was to be put off for that day: And Tisias more happy than he married Leonisa, whose eyes though dazzled with the magnificence of all the preparations, yet sometimes they were very melancholy that day of great jollity; yet very few observed them, for I only perceived it; As for Hermogenes, he was not present that day, though the whole Court was. But whilst the King's Palace was filled with joy, where the Prince of Susa would have this marriage solemnised, Cleodora was in her bed: Sometimes she repented that she did not pardon Belesis; otherwhiles, she would blame herself for treating Hermogenes so kindly; and presently after, she would approve of what a little before she condemned, and passing from one thought into another, she found rest in none, especially when she considered that perhaps she should never see Belesis again, who was the only man of all the world with whom she thought she could live happily: as rarely accomplished as Hermogenes was, she then discovered a hundred things in his humour, which concurred not with hers; in conclusion Sir, not to abuse your patience too much, Cleodora passed over three days in such horrible agitations of spirit, that she thought it would cost her either her life, or her wits: but at last, being resolved what course to take, she gave orders secretly for the execution of her intended design; and indeed did execute it as I shall tell you. Be pleased to know Sir, that one morning as I was ready to go out of my lodging, I received a letter from Cleodora, which desired me to bring Hermogenes that same hour, unto the Temple of Ceres, which is not above thirty furlongs from the town, whither she went, to give thanks unto the Goddess, for a favour which she said she had received, during her sickness. Then Sir, be pleased to know further, that this Temple is kept by an hundred virgins, who observe the same ceremonies which they at Ecbatan do, though they be not consecrated with the same Goddess. I confess that at first, I had not any suspicion of Cleodoras' design, but went unto Hermogenes, unto whom I showed the letter which I received: but as for him, he was more clearsighted than I was, for as soon as he saw the letter, he feared she would take some desperate resolution: so that without any more delay, we took horse and went unto this temple: as soon as we were alighted, they conducted us unto a chamber, which was ordained to receive strangers; where we stayed awhile: presently we saw a door open out of the cloister of the Virgins, out of which we saw Cleodora come accompanied with two women, but with such a sober melancholy in her aspect, as would have tendered the most obdurate heart. Hermogenes also was so moved, so amazed, and so angry, that he had not power enough to express his astonishment: after this she came unto us, and after civil salutations she did sit down, and caused us to sit by her: After this, she began to speak; I do not doubt (said she unto Hermogenes) but what I shall now say unto you, will trouble you: And I had a mind to let you know it in a place, where the respect due unto the Goddess of this place, will perhaps oblige you to receive it with more moderation. I beseech you Madam, (said Hermogenes unto her) do not put me to the utmost trial of my virtue; and consider well what you will tell me, whether I can hear it and live, or without losing my wit● and reason, and respect unto sacred things. Since I know by my own experience, that none ever di●● of sorrow; and since I have a better opinion of your virtue and wisdom, than yourself has, I shall not fear to tell you, what resolution I have taken. Know then, said Cleodora, that I should be unworthy of your affection, if I should marry you, for the discovery of my heart since the departure of Belesis, le's me see, that I am not in a condtion to make you happy: Why Madam (said Hermogenes, interrupting her) will you delude those hopes which yourself did create in me? I should delude them more, replied she, if I should go about to satisfy them, since than I should attempt a thing above my power. For to tell you truly, I have these three last days, continually contested for you against myself, and could not overcome; so that seeing it was impossible to give you my affection, since I had given it to Belesis, and by consequence, should make you miserable, and augment my own sorrows; I thought it most expedient for me, to disengage myself from all the world, and wholly devote the rest of my days unto the Goddess which is adored in this place. This Hermogenes, is that which I had to tell you, and it is your part to testify by your voluntary consent unto it, that you have more virtue than love. Ah Madam, replied he, I am not able to endure this, but I must murmur and oppose it with all my power. I would not advise you to do so, replied she, since if you do, it will be in vain. But Madam, (said he unto her) if it be so, that you love Belesis still, why did you not pardon him? and if you do not love him, why will you not accomplish my happiness? Do not force me (replied she) to make a precise relation of what hath passed in my heart; for since I am resolutly determined to forget all my follice, I will not revive them in my memory: The truth is, I will never return again to Susa: perhaps Madam, said I unto her, that during the time that you are but a probationer, and before you engage yourself for over, your mind: will change: I do not think it, (replied she) for it is not my custom to change my mind; and if I ever change, it shall be in favour of Hermogenes: For heaven's sake Madam (said he unto her being transported with sorrow and despair) do not shut up yourself in this place: if it be (added he) because you do not think me worthy of that honour which your parents would confer upon me; though you would deprive me of that happiness, yet do not deprive the world of ' its chiefest ornament: Believe me Hermogenes, my fate hath called me to this place, and there is no remedy you can use to prevent it; as Hermogenes was going to answer, the same door through which Cleodora came unto us, opened the second time: and the Governess of these sacred Virgins, appeared all in whit, holding a sheaf of gold in her hand, accompanied with a great number of virgins in the same habit, holding every one of them, apples of gold in their hand: As soon as they were all come out and ranked behind the governess, she called Cleodora: who leaving us, and desiring us to acquaint her Aunt that she was in that place; and after she had made a low congee to Hermogenes with tears in her eyes, she went towards that door, whom she who kept the door received in: all the virgins beginning to sing hymns unto the honour of Ceres, as soon as she was entered and the door shut. But Oh heavens, how doleful was that song unto Hermogenes, and in what a pitiful plight was he in? In the mean time there was no remedy but complaints; for there was no possibility of procuring any more conference, either with Cleodora, whom they carried into the temple, nor with any of the virgins. But we were constrained to return unto Susa, and report this strange story: and never since Sir, was it possible for Hermogenes, to see Cleodora; yet we understood by one of the sacrificers, that since she came into that place, she never enquired of any worldly business, except it were sometimes, she would ask if any knew in what part of the world Belesis lived; or in what part he died? But as none could inform her what was become of him, she was nothing satisfied: yet we were told she was something joyed to know, he was not returned into his own country, which made us think she had rather be herself miserable, then to know that he was happy: Yet for all this, she lived a most strict and exact life, and as regular to the orders, as any of the most ancient virgins of the temple, though she had yet six months to be as a probationer, before she made her last vows. This Sir, was the adventure of Belesis and Hermogenes: and I have no more to tell you, unless that Hermogenes since Cleodora took this resolution, was a hundred and a hundred times at death's door with sorrow: but beginning insensibly to consider, that he himself was in some sort a cause of her reclusement, and of his friend's loss, reason began to revive in his heart; his passion by degrees grew less violent: and I have heard him wish divers times that he were able to call back Belesis, whom we thought to be dead in some unknown country: and therefore I cannot choose but wonder that he should quarrel with Belesis when he first met with him: doubtless it must needs be Cleodoras' picture which Belesis took from him; the sight whereof did surprise his reason as well as his eyes, which was the cause of it, since I am very certain that he preserved a good opinion, and much friendship for him, especially since his love to Cleodora began to lessen.  
Alcenor having ended, Cyrus was well satisfied with his relation, and gave him thanks: Panthea, Araminta, Abradates, and Mazares did also thank him: afterwards upon examination of the matter, they could not conceive it any great piece of difficulty, to reconcile these two enemies. For since Hermogenes could live without Cleodora, and that his love to her was lessened, doubtless it was fit for him to yield unto Belesis, whose love was rather augmented then lessened: they conceived also that as for the picture, it was just it should remain in the hands of him unto whom Cleodora gave it, and that if Hermogenes could not consent to renounce Cleodora, then to let that fair one know Belesis was alive and loved her still, and that Hermogenes loved her also: and that afterwards whether she would remain still in that place, or choose one of them for her husband, they should conform their wills thereunto accordingly, and become friends: but the best of the story is, when Alcenor went to Blesis, with intentions to acquaint him that Cleodora had not married Hermogenes; he found them talking together, having both of them desired their guards that they might meet: so that Belesis understanding that Hermogenes had not married her, his animosity against him so vanished, that he was full of tender expressions in words to him: making a short relation of the miserable life he had led: & so that Hermogenes being exceedingly moved with it, & considering that he was the cause of all his miseries, resolved to overcome himself, and consented to use his best endeavours to get Cleodora out of her Cloister: Since Alcenor was friend unto them both, he embraced them with much joy; and carried them into Panthea's Chamber, more to thank the company for their patience in hearing their Adventures; then to be reconciled by them, since they had composed all differences themselves. Yet notwithstanding Cyrus willed them to promise the Queen of Susiana that they would live lovingly together: and so they did very willingly: Afterwards Cyrus and Mazares, accompanied with Belesis and all that followed him thither returned to the Camp. In the way thither, Chrisantes brought a man unto Cyrus whom he thought to be a spy, and upon whom they found a Letter directed unto the Princess Araminta. This did constantly affirm, that he was not sent to know any thing concerning the Army, but only with a letter to the Princess of Pontus: Cyrus taking this letter but not opening it, asked him from whom it came: but he answered he could not tell: All he knew was, that a man unknown to him, came into Heraclea where he dwelled, as it appeared by his language and taking him aside offered him a great recompense if he would undertake to carry a letter unto the Princess Araminta, and a greater if he brought him back an answar, and told him that he would expect his return about eight days hence, and would be every morning by sunrise at the Temple expecting the success of his voyage: Cyrus knowing by the ingenuity of him who spoke, that he lied not, did not set any guard upon him; but to testify the respect he owed unto the Princess Araminta, did send this letter unto that Princess and never opened it: Commanding Chrisantes, who had orders to carry it, to observe her countenance whilst she read it: and in obedience to this command he went unto the Princess, and delivered the letter: which as soon as ever she saw the superscription, she knew it to be the hand of Spitridates, so that opening it with extreme desire to know where Spitridates was, she read these words,  
THE UNFORTUNATE SPITRIDATES, UNTO THE PRINCESS ARAMINTA.  
Madam,  
WHat sorrows soever I suffered, yet I do declare in the frontispiece of my letter, that I do not intend to complain against you; but to observe all those due respects which I ever rendered unto you; and if in the sequel of my discourse any unbecoming word drop from my pen, it is against my will, After this Madam, I shall not doubt, to let you know the adventures of an unfortunate man who has no share in your affection, and shall tell you, that the prison in which my father keeps me for the love of you, they cannot torment me more than by telling me every day, that you have conquered the conqueror of all Asia, and if I durst, without offence, speak it, your heart is more illustrious in that victory, and more secure. I beseech you Madam, do but imagine how insupportable is my imprisonment, in hearing how kind you are to him by a hundred particular circumstances: Yet I would not resolve upon death, till I had it under your hand that you have changed your thoughts, me thinks I owe so much respect unto those assurances of fidelity which you were pleased to honour me with, as not to condemn you before you answered for yourself: Not that I do think you perfidious maugre all reports: But Madam that which most of all perplexeth me is, that knowing I resemble Cyrus, I know not how you can look upon him without a remembrance of unfortunate Spitridates: and I know not how you can remember him but you must also remember my loyal love, This resemblance 'twixt Cyrus and myself is not at all in our fortunes as in our faces: for he is happy, I am miserable: he is with you: I am absent, he a Conqueror, I a Captive: He can command most of all Asia, but I cannot command myself: But yet for all this; Madam, this Prince does all his actions more for his own then your glory: whereas on the contrary, I have renounced all mine to do you service: I have forsaken Crowns, suffered Banishment and imprisonment: and to speak all in few words, I have done all I could and consequently all I ought: A● I wish with all my soul Madam, that you could say as much, and say truly: However, since I never had the least desire of life, but only to do you service: and since I ought not to enjoy it unless you will look favourably upon me, I beseech you be so generous as to pronounce my death under your hand, that I may have the glory of dying in obeying you.  
Spitridates,  
The Princess Araminta blushed all the while she read this letter, and Chrisantes did so seriously observe her, that he made no question but it was a letter of some importance, though he could not imagine the truth: But whilst he was guessing at it, the Princess of Pontus called for her dear Heseonida to show her this letter, herself not being able to contain her wonder at the contents of it, nor well knowing whether or no, she should let Cyrus see it, because her modesty made a scruple of it. But Heseonida upon serious consideration of the business, and how he had sent this letter unopened unto her, she thought it but fit she should trust him with the secret of it. Moreover, this Princess knowing very well how grossly Spitridates was mistaken, and that Cyrus was as constant unto the Princess Mandana as herself was unto the Prince of Bythinia, she resolved to let him see it, lest he should imagine it to be of another nature than it was: so that without further delay, she writ these lines,  
ARAMINTA UNTO CYRUS.  
Sir,  
IT is fit my confidence in you should equal your civility: and since you would not open that letter which by the laws of marry you very well might, I will show you one which I ought to conceal, if I did not think you as discreet as you are generous. You may judge by it Sir, after you have read it, how ingenious fortune is to persecute me, since unless you will be pleased to tend me your helping hand you will augment my miseries: I beseech you pardon the crime of unfortunate Spitridates, in thinking you to be guilty of one, and help me to lament his miseries and to sweeten mine: you may if you please, Sir, send back this letter unto me by him who brought it, to the end I may know a little better, in what condition that unfortunate Prince is;  
Araminta.  
This Princess had no sooner done writing, but she enclosed the letter of Spitridates in her own, and feeling them up gave them both unto Chrisantes, who returned to his master after he had received as much civility as the perplexities of that Princess would permit her: After which, she began to repeat all his misfortunes, with resenting aggravations. In the mean while Cyrus, who longed for an occasion to oblige her, as soon as he had read the letter of Spitridates and her own, did send it back unto her by him that brought it, and answered her in these terms.  
CYRUS VNTO THE PRINCESS ARAMINTA.  
Madam,  
SInce the laws of war ought never to contradict those respects which are due unto persons of your Quality and virtue, doubtless I have done no more than what I was obliged unto: But for your part Madam, you have gone far beyond what might be required at your hands. All I can say, unto you by way of gratitude for the confidence you have in my discretion, is to assure you, that the Prince is only mistaken in Name, when he speaks unto you of that affection, which your merits hath planted in my heart, since certainly my love of you is as perfectly pure, as his love is constant: I am confident Madam that what I now say, will not offend you, but that you will be pleased if I conjure you so to transact with Spitridates (whose virtue makes me admire him) that he will look upon me as his friend, as I am resolved to be and already am, that so justifying me, you may thereby justify yourself also: And in the interim I promise you, maugre the hatred which doubtless he conceives against me, that I will be very careful of restoring him unto his liberty, as soon as ever the Gods have made me so happy as to release the Princess Mandana.  
Cyrus.  
This Letter being given unto him who brought that of Spitridates, he was conducted unto the Princess, who made no question of being by him fully informed of the fortune and condition of that Prince: But she was astonished when she found he did not know so much as that he was a Prisoner: He could only tell her, that about some month since, there were some prisoners brought from Heraclea in the night time, and that they were closely kept, but he could not tell who they were: Then she asked him what was reported of Spitridates? to which he answered that none knew what was become of him, and that all the people both in Pontus and Bythinia did much lament him. After this, she enquired concerning Arbianes and Aristheus, who he said were in health: So that since she could not receive any further satisfaction from him, she resolved not only to send him back with a letter, but also to send one of her servants with him, to speak with the man who was to meet him in the Temple of Heraclea: Then without more delay, the Princess Araminta writ unto Spitridates, and choosing out a servant to send back with him who brought the letter, she recompensed him in an ample manner: for though she was a prisoner, yet such was the generosity of Cyrus, as he allowed her whatsoever she pleased: In the mean time, the treaty concerning the exchange of this Princess for the Prince Artamas went slowly on: for Croesus did so delay the business, as that there was not one Article resolved upon the day before the Treaty was to end: Cyrus no sooner consented unto any thing, but Croesus raised a new difficulty in the business: and his secret design to gain time, did so manifestly appear, that though it concerned the liberty of the Prince Artamas, yet the King of Phrygia was the first that told Cyrus, it was not fit to treat any longer with such a Prince as was not sincere in his business: and the rather, because it was reported there was great joy in the Army of Croesus, for the arrival of some Egyptian forces, which were reported to be commanded by a Prince of a most gallant deportment. So that perceiving this Treaty was only a colour whereby to protract the war: It was resolved to prolong it no longer, what propositions soever the enemies made, yet would not Cyrus break it until the last minute of it was expired: but as soon as ever that was, and the Commissioners for treaty on both sides being come back, Cyrus renewed the war; And began to draw up his forces, to pass over the river Halis at that passage, where the brother of Andramites commanded: and since there was in that plate, a great and stately Castle, as soon as the Army had passed the river, and the For●orn hope of Cyrus had beaten back the scouts of Croesus, to the very walls of Sardis, Cyrus caused the Queen of Susiana, the Princess Araminta, and all the rest of the Ladies to be brought into that Castle, to the end that Abradates might not be troubled to pass over the river, when he went to see Panthea: in the mean time this great soul which was capable of many things at once, in the midst of all his amorous sufferings, was as vigilant as any young ambitious man, and as prudent as any old weatherbeaten Captain he did not only know how many troops he had, what ammunition, and what magazines, and artillery, but he knew also who commanded every particular squadron, and who was fittest to be trusted in any dangerous expedition: he knew the capacites of every Captain, even to the personal valour of every private soldier: so that when he drew up his army into Battalia, every one was ranked in such a place as was fittest for him: but whilst his diligence was in the ordering of every thing, it was much murmured in the army, that Araspes should revolt unto the enemy, and intelligence was one day brought unto him, when the kings of Phrygia, and Hyrcania, Tigranes, Mazares, and many others were present, that this Araspes was the only adviser of Croesus' how to rank his men in the day of battle; and as some prisoners which were taken were brought unto Cyrus, and as he asked them, how they thought Croesus would order his army? they answered they heard say, that all would be disposed according to the counsel of a certain Medean who was come unto their side, and who advised them to alter that order which they were accustomed to observe. The prisoners had no sooner given this answer, but every one knew it was Araspes they spoke of: but they were all much amazed to see Cyrus in lieu of being angry against him, only smiled and said, that he wished this Medean in his power. Yet he had no sooner said so, but without any further reflection upon it he called a council of war, to consult upon the business in general yet there did not need any where Cyrus was: for he so strengthened his advice with such & so many prevalent reasons, that none ever opposed him: so that the Kings of Assyria, Phrygia, Hyrcania, Susiana, and Mazares, Tigranes, Persodes, Phraaries, Gobrias, Gadates, Anaxaris, and every one referring all things to his conduct: he began to consider of all things requisite for the march of his Troops, and for the day of battle; in order to that he caused all the officers of his Army to come before him, and gave every one of them his particular order what to do: so that their business was only to obey his orders, and that was enough: it is your care, (said he unto the Captains) to enclose the worst of your soldiers with the best, that their valour may on all sides be exemplary, and keep them from running away: afterwards, he commanded the Captains what confidence so ever they had in their men, yet to exhort them unto their duty, and be sure to punish cowards telling them, that the only way to make their soldiers invincible, was to make their soldiers to stand in more fear of their Commanders, then of their enemies; after that, he gave all necessary orders for the march of his Artillery and baggage, as well as for the Chariots of war: he ordered how the Regiments should march one after another, and was very circumspect that none should be displeased with his employment, he took order for the Archers which were to be carried in those Chariots, assigning every one in all this great Army his particular duty, and his soul was of such a large capacity, as made it apparent that he could govern the whole universe with as much ease as others could a private family. This one thing he did especially recommend unto all his officers, that those that were of the Rere-guard should always keep themselves in as ready a posture to fight, as if they were in the front of the battle. All things being thus ordered, and it being resolved to match the next morning, Cyrus the night before went to take his leave of the Princess accompanied with most of any quality in the Army, and amongst the rest those that had nearest relation unto that place, as Phraartes, Andramites, and Ligdamis: who knowing that Croesus would surprise the Castle of Hermes, and that his father who was governor, would be forced to declare himself, he made no difficulty at all in fight for Cyrus, since so many other Lydians would be in his Army. Cyrus, being full of generous civility, told all the Ladies in general, that he would do all he could to prevent their shedding of tears after the victory which he hoped to obtain, assuring the Princes Araminta for her particular, that he would not fail in any thing he had promised Cyrus had that night as much joy in his aspect as might easily persuade unto a belief of a happy success in that battle which he was to fight; Panthea also added unto the hopes of it, imagining he knew well enough that his enemies were not so strong as they gave out: but he told her, that on the contrary he understood there was an extraordinary gallant Egyptian Prince come unto his enemies, and that the Prince of Mysia was also arrived at Sardis, and further that a valiant Ionian Commander called Arimaspes was come with Auxiliaries to the aid of Croesus: but since the valiant Abradates is on my side (said he) and since Justice is also on our side, I shall not despair of victory: but I shall have this consolation at the least, that I will either get the victory or die: after this, he took his leave of them and all the rest of the Ladies, every one of them commending his civility, and praying for his prosperity. Yet Phraartes could not obtain one smile from the Princes Araminta, whose sorrows for the prisonment of Spitridates, and fears of the battle were so great, that she hardly took any notice of him: as for Ligdamis, he received all imaginable expressions of tenderness from his dear Leonisa: but for Andramites, he saw Doralisa only in terms of civility, yet he did not think himself altogether miserable, since she looked so well as in terms of civility upon him: in the mean time Abradates took not his last leave till the next morning: but as he was ready to put on his Arms which he used to wear, Panthea sent him a most magnificent suit which she had secretly caused to be made, and which she trimmed up with all her jewels; His helmet glittered with abundance of rich Diamonds, and had a plume of purple colour; the rest of the arms were suitably rich, and of the same colour with his plume: so that Abradates wondering to see a stately suit of arms, began his thanks unto his dear Panthea, by complaining against her for dressing his arms with her jewels, which were for herself at a feast of rejoicing after the victory. I have so great an opinion of your valour (said she unto him) and we are so indebted unto the illustirous Cyrus, that I thought it requisite you should wear very remarkable arms, to the end your glorious acts, may the more easily be discerned by him in the day of battle: but for all the courage of Panthea, she could not pronounce these words without a shower of tears: she endeavoured to hide them, lest Abradates should take them as a sad omen, nor would that Prince take notice of them, lest it should too much melt her heart and his own: but many expressions of an inviolable eternal affection passed between them: and he promised so to acquit himself in the sight of Cyrus, as should become him, so that insensibly engaging themselves in a discourse of Cyrus, they did infinitely commend him for his civil usage of them, Panthea making the time as long as she could before they bade this cruel adieu, purposely the longer to enjoy the sight of her dear Abradates, who was never so handsome, and gallant as in this glorious suit of arms. But the time did come that he must leave her, and he embraced his dear Panthea, and then pronouncing the word adieu, he went out of her chamber, to mount into a most magnificent Chariot of war which waited for him at the Castle-gate, Panthea following him with all the rest of the Ladies which were prisoners. And he espying her with such a sadness in his countenance as was not suitable to his great and heroic soul, he went back unto her, and taking her by her fair hand, which he kissed with a sad devotion, and being desirous she would go in again, I pray unto the gods, (cried he out) I may behave myself as one that is worthy to be Panthea's husband, and Cyrus his friend, after which conjuring her once more to retire, he left her, and went hastily into his Chariot: but she was not retired till he was quite out of sight, he still looking upon her as long as he could. But as if the constancy of Panthea had been inspired that she should never see him again, she sounded, and her women were forced to carry her to bed.  
In the mean time, never was such a glorious sight as this Army, for not only Cyrus, the king of Assyria, Mazares, and all the rest of the Princes were most magnificently armed; but there was not a common soldier, which shined not in his arms: so that the sun shining that day without a cloud, made the march of this army the most glorious sight that ever eye beheld. All the Cavalry had marrions of burnish Brass, with white feathers, their suits of arms carnation colour, and their lances all gilt or embroidered. As for Cyrus his arms were the same of gold, which he wore that day he gained the victory over the King of Assyria: the horse he rid on, had also the honour to serve him in many of his victories, and particularly in that: so that the king of Assyria knowing these arms, he sighed, and could not choose to say unto Cyrus, I pray heavens, (said he unto him) that those arms which now you wear, prove as fortunate against Croesus and the kings of Pontus, as they did against me, and I beseech the gods I may make better use of mine this day than I did on that. You did such glorious things that day, (replied Cyrus modestly) that if fortune had not been your foe, Ciaxares had not been conqueror, and therefore I have greater hopes this day in your valour then in mine own. Then Mazares, Tigranes, Phraartes, Anaxares, Gobrias, Gadates, and all the volunteers coming unto him, he commanded that all the army should march; he himself did lead up the vanguard with the king of Assyria, unto whom he gave the right hand, and offered him the command of it: Hidaspes commanded the main body of the battle, wherein were all the Homotimes: the King of Phrygia the rare guard: and Abradates all the Chariots of war, which made a distinct body of itself: Cyrus then beginning to advance, having first sent out scouts to discover the enemy, gave motion to this huge body, who with one wink dispersed spirits into it. Croesus' also and the King of Pontus prepared for a general combat, and neglected nothing that might get a victory. 'tis true, there was a vast difference between these two armies: for hope was in that of Cyrus, and fear was in the Lydian kings. Not that he was any thing inferior in numbers, especially since the arrival of the Egyptian Auxiliaries, and of those forces which the Prince of Myssia and Arimaspes brought up: but the very name of Cyrus was grown so terrible every where, that it was no sooner known in the camp of Croesus' this prince was come over the river Halis, but fear seized upon the hearts of all his soldiers, and the night following their frontier Guards gave many false alarms to their own side, for they apprehended such fears as made them believe they saw what they saw not, so that they stood all night in their arms. Croesus' then fearing lest this general terror should grow to be one of those panic fears which hath ruined whole armies, without a blow, resolved to express some courage, and by his example to infuse it into others, that he might meet Cyrus: so that the morning after, he disencamped, and advanced a little beyond Thybarra, at the same time Cyrus was drawing towards him: so that these two huge armies encamped that night within fifty furlongs of each other. Cyrus because he would not be surprised, passed over all that night without any sleep: and the King of Assyria and Mazares being as vigilant as he, they were witnesses of the pains he took in every thing, and how he neglected nothing that might obtain a victory. In the mean time these three illusterous Rivals spent all the night together in one tent, but with different thoughts, though Mandana was the only object of them all. As for Cyrus his certainty of Mandanas' love, maugre all the menaces of the gods, afforded him many hours of joy amidst his sufferings: whereas on the contrary, the king of Assyria, maugre the favourable oracle which he received at Babylon, knowing he was not loved, and that Cyrus was many times possessed with such fits of fury, as he had much ado to master them. Mazares, though his thoughts were less violent, yet was his sorrow a heavy load upon his heart, for when he began to consider, how he had imposed upon himself a necessity of never pretending further than to the friendship of Mandana, he knew not whether he was able to keep within those limits which he had prescribed unto himself: on the other side, the king of Pontus, thought himself as miserable as any, especially when he considered that it was not a victory could make him happy, since when he had conquered Cyrus, he could not conquer Mandana, unto whom he had not spoke one word of the battle towards, lest it should trouble her too much: for it may well be said, never was ravisher less violent, and more respective than himself: so that Mandana and the princes Palmis not knowing they were ready to fight, for their liberties, did both condole and comfort each other. Yet was Mandana very sorry she did not credit Mazares, for she understood by Cylenisa how that Prince was really gone unto Cyrus. The Prince Artamas for his part, he did suffer unconceivable torments of mind, not only by reason of his own imprisonment, but for the Princess Palmis, and in thinking upon the Battle which was ready to be given: yet as brave as he was, he was something glad that he was not to be in it, because the Princess Palmis could not hereafter upbraid him for fight against the King her father. But as restless as these three, nay all these Illustrious persons were, I think it may truly be said, that Cyrus' being most amorous, was most tormented, or at least most diligent to obtain the victory: For no sooner did Aurora begin to gild the clouds from the East, than he awaked all his Camp, by sound of Trumpets, Drums, Fifes, and Howboys: so that all this vast Army, was in a moment in their Arms, and ranked under their colours, ready to obey their General; who, being as full of Piety as valour, commanded a Sacrifice to be offered unto the Gods, and to beg victory from them: and willed the Sacrificers to use no other Ceremonies then after the Persian custom: so that the Magis who made preparations for this Ceremony, made choice of a Hill, which was in the midst of the Camp, to sacrifice unto the Sun, which they called, Ocosmades, and unto Venus Urania, whom they called Mitra, and unto Jupiter; Cyrus making choice of these three divinities: to the end that Jupiter might give him power to vanquish; that the Sun might shine upon his victory; and that Venus Urania might favour his design of Mandanaes' releasement; Since the Persians never use to sacrifice, but under the Canopy of Heaven, nor dress up any Magnificent Altars, nor light any Fire, nor use any Crowns of flowers: the Ceremony was not long, for the Sacrificers do nothing but put a wreath of Myrtle upon their heads, and carry the Victims up to the Hill they make choice of: and there they invoke the Gods unto whom they sacrifice, and according to the Persian custom, which is never to make any prayers but for all the Persians in general, excepting for their King, they ask of those divinities all that may be glorious unto their nation, and by consequence victory: Afterwards they pray for all their Army, and for Ciaxares only in particular: Cyrus desiring to make no distinction between Persians and others; In the mean time, how early soever the Magis were, those of Croesus were before them: 'Tis true, it was in a different manner: For since he and the King of Pontus, and the Prince of Myssia, and all the other great Commanders, had observed that their soldiers stood in fear of their enemies, and that the very name of Cyrus struck a terror into them, they were themselves afraid lest this panic fear should put their Army into disorder: Therefore since they were to fight a deciding battle, they thought best to infuse mettle into their men by some rules of religion. And in order to that, they brought into use an ancient sacrifice used in wars, in the time when Heraclides reigned in Lydia: And about two hours after midnight, they make ready their Altars in the midst of the Camp, all the Soldiers being drawn about them as in Battle array: After this, they make about these Altars, twelve fires, which shows unto the Soldiers a great number of Victims, which the Sacrificers kill before them: About these Altars, fires, and bloody Victims, stand two hundred men with swords drawn in their hands: After which, these men do swear all the Officers, never to leave fight until they have met with deaths or victory; then they call all the Soldiers one by one, and make them promise and swear with most terrible▪ Impr●●ations upon themselves and their posterity, to be obedient unto all that Croesus, or their Officers shall command them: and never to flee from battle, but every one to kill his fellow that shall offer to give ground before victory be obtained, and if there were any which out of fear of such a strange sacrifice, would not swear, these men with swords in their hands were to kill them; and by this cruel example to affright the rest to promise what was desired them, though perhaps they had no intention to keepit: yet notwithstanding since such things as these do extremely move the hearts of the multitude, the soldiers in the Army of Croesus in general, did believe they shall become more valiant after this Ceremony: so that hopes succeeding their fears; the Army of Croesus began to be confident of happy success in Battle.  
However, the King of Lydia did not trust more to the multitude of his men, than he did of some advantages which might be taken, and therefore he advanced to Hyberra, so that Cyrus was much amazed, when after his sacrifices ended, and day began to break, he saw his enemies removed from the place he thought them to be, coconceiving that they had possessed themselves of a place of great advantage for themselves: and the very truth is, if this Prince had not been full as wise as he was valiant, he had exposed his Army to an inevitable ruin. Thyberra was a Town of an indifferent largeness, seated upon a pleasant Hill, some thirty furlongs from Sardis: at the foot of this hill ran a little river, which running round the walls made the access very difficult: So that it seemed, Croesus' thought he stood in need of all advantages to deal with such a Prince as Cyrus was. As this Hero was ever used to seek his enemies, and never to turn his back upon them, he drew up into battalia upon another hill, opposite to that which Croesus possessed, and seemed so exceedingly desirous to be fight, that he stood in need of all his prudence, to stop the heat of that courage, which desired to hazard all than not fight. Yet upon better consideration, finding that if he lost this Battle his glory would receive a foil, and Mandana would not be released: he examined the matter a little better. He saw that the right wing of Croesus was sheltered with the Town of Thyberra, which on that side was naturally fortified, by the fall of many Torrents which time had made so deep and impetuous, that the passages were not fordable: Cyrus also saw that the main body of his enemies was most judiciously placed, so that more advantage could not be devised: for indeed it was in a little wood, which nature had so entrenched, that all art could not mend it: As for his left wing, it also had possession of another Hill, the access unto which was through many ditches: so that it were fond imprudence to fight upon such disadvantages, especially since Croesus was more numerous than himself. The King of Lydia hoped that Cyrus would have done as he did at Artaxates, and in Assyria: so that Cyrus hazarding all, and he nothing, he might chance get the victory. But since prudence will alter thoughts according to occasions, Cyrus who did hazard all in Armenia to deliver Mandana, where he might well in reason do it, would not do so in Lydia, where he should hazard the loss of Mandana and the victory also: yet he used all possible stratagems to make Croesus' quit the ground he was in possession of, and to provoke him to fight upon reasonable terms. It may truly be said, all military Art was used upon this occasion, to draw his enemy out of his holds: so that every day both Armies had continually skirmishes, though Cyrus could not engage his enemy in a main Battle: In the mean while the place where he was encamped was very incommodious for him, for his enemies being master of the little river which ran by Thyberra, he wanted drink both for horse and man, and likewise all manner of forage. Cyrus then resolving to disincamp, resolved to quarter near Pactolus, where his Army might have plenty of all provisions, which he wanted in the quarters he quitted, and where he might observe the motion of his enemies, which way soever they moved, and force them to fight if they stirred: the question was, whether they should remove in the night, or in the day time: for though prudence told Cyrus' it should be in the night, yet his great soul would not permit him: his chief reason why he desired to follow the motions of his courage was, because he was in hope Croesus would follow him, and so he should face about and fight him. But since there was some danger in that attempt, and that good success was doubtful: he resolved upon an honourable Retreat, in the face of an Army much stronger than himself, and commanded by Princes expert in Command: so that at break of day his first Brigade began to march, the second followed; afterwards the Artillery, and Chariots marched in the head of the Infantry. The Orders of Cyrus were so well executed, that the Retreat was without disorder, except the first Brigade of the right wing, wherein Cyrus was, because the left wing of Croesus, which was opposite to it, and wherein the Lydians and Mariandins were, was best able to fall upon this Prince, because there was fewer obstacles on that side then any other: and they left them to charge that Prince, whom not a Lydian durst look in the face upon even terms, nor now assault him but because he retreated: In the mean time Cyrus commanded that body of Horse which Hydaspes commanded, to keep their ground upon the plain, to the end his Brigade might retreat between the Horse, as indeed they did: But those forces which Artabases commanded that day, who retreated with the rest of the Army, as well as those which Anaxaris commanded, were assaulted by the Mariandines, who received them with much courage, especially Anaxaris who indeed did miracles at that time. But do what they could, the Troops which they commanded were worsted, Anaxaris was wounded, and taken prisoner, and A 〈…〉 s more happy than he, disengaged himself from amongst them, and got amongst his own party. The enemy encouraged by this prosperous beginning had advanced their victory, if Hydaspes had not stopped them, and given them such a sharp repulse, as merited the acclamations and praise of both Armies: for he charged with such furious valour, as made it appear he merited the favour of Cyrus: and fight both for his own glory, and the glory of his Master, he beat the Mariandines, and Lydians, as far as half way up the Hill from whence they descended. But three squadrons coming fresh upon him, and all the Cavalry of Croesus' being commanded to oppose the valour of Hydaspes, He and his forces were forced to submit unto such a multitude, and retreated in confusion, especially because they retreated down the Hill. Cyrus, whose prudence could not be deluded, did foresee this, and commanded one part of his Troops to draw up into Battalia on the top of the next Hill, and ordered his Brigade to keep the plain, to assist the retreat of Hydaspes; and to that end he went from squadron to squadron, to exhort them all, to show themselves worthy of that good opinion which he had of them, and their courage, and indeed, he had a confidence that they would do as heretofore they were accustomed, and never forsake him: Yet as he charged those who forced his men to retreat in disorder, these same squadrons who promised never to forsake him, nor never yet had done so, were blasted with that same fear which heretofore they were wont to astonish others: so that whether the multitude of their enemies did amaze them, or whether the tumultuous retreat of their own side did shake their courage, they forsook Cyrus: so that there was no other course for him, but to think of saving himself, that he might save all his Army, yet he would not resolve upon that course, until he was driven to the danger of being either killed or taken, more than once: so loath was he to retreat from his enemies, who never met him but were beaten. Those of his men whom fear frighted out of judgement, ran away to the bottom of the Hill, where all the Infantry stood as a Reserve: but those who had so much courage as to look danger in the face, and retain their reason, stayed at a pass in the plain, where there was a little blind, which did in some sort hide them. Cyrus who at this time had his spirits as free, and his soul as seeing as if he were in no danger, spying some of his men which made a halt in this place, began to rally as many of them, as he could together, and courageously facing about upon his enemies did not only stop their pursuit, but did vigorously repulse them, and beat them up the Hill which Cyrus his men had quitted: After this Heroic Act, Cyrus meeting with the King of Assyria, the King of Phrygia, the King of Hyrcania; and all the Princes of his Army, he fully determined to give Battle, and not to alter from the first Orders which he had given: and indeed there needed no other alteration, unless that the first Brigade of the right wing should change places with the second; Cyrus' not conceiving them yet recovered out of those fears into which they were driven, and therefore would not expose them to the first shock of the Battle: not but that there is ever some danger to change Orders in the face of an enemy, yet the change of those two Brigades was done in such excellent order, and regular motion, that the least confusion did not appear: for commanding a countermarch, they passed from one's place to the others, between rank, and rank, and kept their distances and motions so even, that in a very little time, they were ready to fight, as if there had been no change at all: All the Calvalry which Cyrus had rallied were sent unto such Quarters as were fit to be possessed: and all things were so soon, and so well ordered, that it was not discerneable any men were lost in this retreat; the loss whereof in reality was very small. In the mean time, Cyrus who was always circumspect to choose the most advantageous ground, especially in the day of Battle, took the right wing, and quartered them with the first Brigade, whose squadrons were composed of Persians, Medes and Cappadoceans, and placed a Body of Volunteers, who desired the honour to fight where he did, between two squadrons which Gadates commanded, in the head of which this Prince would fight: The most eminent of these Volunteers were Persodes, Andramites, Ligdamis, Tim●r●●n, Sosules, Hermogenes, Belesis, Orsanus, and Tegeus: Feraulus, and Ortalques always keeping close to their Masters: Those who this day served under this Prince, were the King of Assyria, who commanded the first Brigade, assisted by Aglatidas: Tigranes kept close unto the person of Cyrus, and was adjutant unto him as Aglatidas was unto the King of Assyria. Artabanes commanded the Cavalry of this Brigade: In the mean while Mazares took upon him the command of the left wing, the first division whereof was equal in number of squadrons, to the first division of the right wing: Gobrias commanding this first division, was assisted by Adusius: Phraartes commanded the cavalry of this Brigade. The first division of the infantry marching between these two wings, consisted of five battalions: the artillery marched in the head of the infantry: and so did the hundred armed chariots under the command of Abradates, whose stately chariot was drawn by eight of the finest horses ever eye beheld: the second division of the right wing was commanded by Artabases, as the second division of the left was by Chrisantes: the second Brigade of infantry was divided also into five battalions; many squadrons of horse were placed between the two Brigades of infantry, & all the body of Persian Cavalry, wherein were the Homotimes, and the Assyrian Infantry commanded by Hidaspes, made up the body of the battle: The body of reserves, composed of Phrygians and Hyrcanians, were commanded by the Kings of Phrygia and Hyrcania. All things being thus ordered, there was such an interior joy appeared in the aspect of Cyrus, as inspired courage into the souls of all those that looked upon him: But that the same spirit of valour which did animate him, might be infused into all the army, he commanded a muster of all his troops, and going from Division to Division, from Brigade to Brigade, from Squadron to Squadron, and from Rank to Rank, he dissipated all fears out of cowards, and inspired valour into them, and the most courageous also.  
Remember my Companions (would he say unto the first squadrons) that it concerns you to fight this day, not only to get victory, but to keep that Glory which we have gotten at other times. Afterwards turning towards other Troops, Forget not (would he say unto them) that those who fight ill, are in more danger than those who fight well, and that in all places and fights, there is more safety in keeping ground then flying. Then going a little further and speaking unto others: Make it appear Soldiers (said he) that you know how to vanquish by Art, and never Triumph by hazard: Remember (would he say to others,) that most of our enemies have been vanquished by us before, and that they never vanquished you: Let not the multitude of our enemies fright you, (would he say unto such whose valour he suspected) for if you have but more heart than they, you will easily overcome them though they were as many more. I should do you wrong (would he say unto such whom he desired to flatter) if I should exhort you to fight; It is enough if you do but as you were wont. Moreover my Companions, (said this Prince and went a little further) Remember that our Cause is Just, and the gods are Just. I know you are brave and Gallant men, and that you were never overcome, and that you justly expect great Recompense. And I dare boldly promise both it and victory unto you, if you will but do, as I will do myself.  
After, this Cyrus recommended three things espcially unto them all. The one was, to observe each other in their march, that thereby the order of Battle might not be broken, but that their divisions might be even, and their distances equal: The second was, neither to be too backward when they charged, nor too precipitately forward: And the last was, to let their enemies shoot all their Arrows, and throw all their darts, before they began to shoot and throw theirs. Afterwards Cyrus going to Abradates, told him that he expected to be a debtor unto him, for the victory which he hoped for: But the King of Susiana seeing himself very disadvantageously placed, answered, that he stood most in need of his help to get the victory, and that he desired some Persians would come and teach him to fight. After which, Cyrus still exhorting his soldiers, returned to the head of the right wing in which he was to fight: and he had no sooner took his place, but Araspes who had disengaged himself from the Lydians, came into the Army of Cyrus, and presented himself unto him. I am now come Sir, (said he unto him) to expiate the crime which I committed, by dying in your service, as I writ to you that I intended when I went first unto your enemies, purposely to give you intelligence. We have so much need of valiant men, replied Cyrus, that as faulty as you are, I cannot choose but be glad to see you: and when you have given me a short account of what you know concerning the enemy, I will assign you your place to fight with Andramites. Then Araspes whispered with Cyrus, and told him all which he thought of most concernment: As soon as Cyrus had well considered upon the advice which Araspes gave him, he saw the Lydian Cavalry appear upon the hill which was opposite to Cyrus, and to divide themselves into right and left wings, to make room for the main Battle of Croesus. Cyrus' seeing by this, that now his enemies would fight, was infinitely joyed to see that his seeming retreat had deceived them, and invited them to fight in hopes of a victory, upon more easy terms now then ever, by reason of the disorder which happened. In the mean time, the Army of Cyrus was in a condition to fight: and that of Croesus was not: for the great diligence of this famous conqueror, surprised the spirits of those, who would have surprised him. And indeed without any delay, or giving his enemies so much time as to rank themselves, Cyrus marched up to them, the sun being then three hours and a half high: until now the Army of Croesus was full of hopes to be victorious. But as soon as ever they saw Cyrus come to them with full resolution to fight, their confidence failed, and victory became doubtful. The word of Battle which Cyrus gave unto all his Troops, was, JUPITER our PROTECTOR. But all the Army animated by the presence of a Prince, whom all the soldiers called a second Mars, in lieu of Crying Jupiter our Protector, made the air echo with the name of the god of war: so that all crying out Mars, Mars, the noise of so many several voices, mingled with the Music of Trumpets, Fifes, Oboes and Drums, seemed to be acclamations of victory, though it was only the beginning of combat. The Chariots and the Artillery of Cyrus did much more execution than those of his enemies, for they reigned most terrible clouds and showers of arrows upon the Lydian troops: and the artillery made such impetuous shots of stones upon the enemy, that they were exceedingly annoyed, insomuch, as they had much ado to keep in order: yet Croesus and the King of Pontus, seeing they were forced to fight, did show much gallantry, and came up to fight with great resolution: yet were they put to one notable disadvantage, for they were forced to rank themselves into Battalia as they marched: so that it was a hard matter for a great body not settled in order, to sustain the shock of another which is better ordered. But yet at last they ranked their troops: The Prince Myrsiles notwithstanding his imperfection, commanded the two divisions of the right wing, being assisted by Pactias who gave orders for him, this Prince having only the honour of the command, not being able to do any other service, then by his personal Valour. The of Prince Myssia, and a Lydian of quality called Artibies, commanded the two divisions of the left wing: Arimaspes the valiant Ionian Captain, commanded all the infantry: and the King of Pontus all the other troops which were as reserves: Croesus was placed in the head of a body of Lydian Cavalry in the midst of the battle: these two great armies, were some thirty paces from each other, when Cyrus perceived the left wing of his enemy sent three volleys of arrows upon the right wing of his, so that this Prince desiring that his men should not shoot theirs before the enemy had thrown all their darts, did make a stop to hinder them, and commanded that none should draw an arrow until their Enemies had done theirs. This command was as exactly obeyed as Judiciously given: from whence did arise three considerable advantages: for it did redouble the fury of the troops in restraining them, it put order into all the divisions and ranks: and by receiving upon themselves all the arrows and darts of their enemies, they exhausted them of all at the very first shock: This being the state of things, The Prince of Myssia to signal himself, advanced with his first division against that of Cyrus, who at the same time advanced to receive him: These two Divisions, being come within reach of darts, did both make a stand a pretty while, both desiring the other should begin: At last the Lydians more impatient, began to obscure the Air with an incredible Cloud of Arrows and Darts: at the same time Cyrus Commanding his men to do as he did, he threw the first dart, and drawing their swords, rushed upon the squadron which opposed him, and did such miraculous acts, that all he did before was nothing in comparison of this: his first division courageously following him, charged the first division of the Lydians with such fury, that they entirely routed them. Cyrus' seeing he had taught them in that place how to get a victory, disengaged himself from amongst them, to see what other place stood in need of his help: But he was no sooner from amongst them, than the second division of the enemies seconding their first, did so repulse that from which Cyrus departed, that all the king of Assyrias valour could not save himself from being taken: 'Tis true he made a gallant resistance, and charged through both divisions of his enemies: Tigranes also was unhappily wounded, and maugre his valour, taken prisoner, though he did most gallant things in the sight of Cyrus; nor did he render himself until his horse was killed, and was overnumbered by a multitude.  
This being the state of things; the second division to repair the misfortune which it had in his retreat, had command to relieve the first: Which it courageously did under the conduct of Artabases. In the mean while Cyrus having rallied his first division, fell upon them on one side whilst Artabases was on the other: And both this Prince and Aglatidas did such wonders, that the whole power of their enemies was not able to stop their valour: Yet the combat was a while very doubtful: and victory knew not which side to take, for sometimes the Troops of Cyrus would so press upon the Lydian Troops with such fury, as one would have thought them quite routed and torn in pieces: And sometimes they would so rally, and charge afresh, as would make those who routed them before to stagger: That which to the glory of Cyrus was most remarkable, was, that there was not one of his squadrons squandered by any of the Lydian Troops, which Cyrus did not rally, and bring up again to fight with as much courage and judgement, and quickness, as if he had been more then in one place at once, so ready was he to do all that his great soul d●d prompt unto him: And it is not imaginable how oft he charged, and how many single combats he had: He no sooner had vanquished in one place, but he sought out a new subject for his valour: and being not contented with overcoming all he met with, he sought out for the King of Pontus with extreme desire: But all in vain, for fortune would not let them meet. In the mean while he met with fresh resistance, and the resoluteness of his enemies gave him an ample subject for his prudence and valour; So that not enduring that the victory should continue any longer upon doubtful tear 〈…〉 s, he caused his body of reserve to march up; The King of Lydia did the like but with different success; For the Kings of Phrygia and Hyrcania did so sharply charge their enemies, and were so exceedingly animated by the example of Cyrus, whom they saw do such incredible acts of valour, as they had the honour to second him in his courage, and: outed the left wing and body of his enemies reserve, who were forced to fly & yield unto the valour of a Prince whom none could surmount; In the mean while, since the whole Army of Cyrus was inspired with the same spirit, Mazares, where he was, did as much as any brave Prince could do, who desired death and victory; for he charged the Prince Myrsiles and Pactias with extraordinary valour. He did not only go unto them with a resolution of fury, but seeing they would not come unto him, because they were on a very advantageous ground, he went up the hill unto them, with incredible courage, though without any disorder or indiscretion, and charged them so hotly, that he routed them; yet one of his squadrons, passing up a place of difficulty, was repulsed by one of the enemy's squadrons, but Gobrias relieved them, and forced the Lydian Squadron to do like their fellows, which was to fly away in disorder; Yet The second division of the enemy ateempted to relieve their first but Chrisantes, coming up to Mazares, the right wing of the Lydians was entirely squandered; So that Mazares now made no doubt of victory, though himself was two or three times in danger to be taken by the enemy. The body of the battle, in the head of which were the Chariots, had no mean share in the victory; and Abradates did more than he promised his dear Panthea, and indeed more than he should have done; for he did so expose himself unto dangers, as if he had either known himself invulnerable, or else desired death; he drove the eight horses which drew his chariot with such fury, as he tumbled down his enemies, and forced their chariots to fly; The rest of the Chariots which followed him, doing the same, struck terror into all that opposed them; Some of the enemy's chariots fled; others were tumbled over and broken: all were rendered useless to the Lydians. Abradates' having done this, and seeing the Egyptian Battalia keep their ground, went with his Chariots to rumble amongst them and overthrew all he met, either by the impetuosity of his Chariots, or by his sword, or with the Sythes wherewith the Chariots were armed: Never was sight more terrible to behold then this: The horses trampled upon the bodies of dead and dying men: The Syths cut off others: and the wheels ran over those which the horses and Sythes tumbled down: But alas, the victory of Abradates proved fatal unto him: for the field was so strewed with horses and dead men, with broken arms, and overturned Chariots, that he could not pass but over Mountains of these mingled together: so that the wheels sometimes went high, and sometimes low, and his Chariot unfortunately overturned maugre the skill of him which drove it: Yet Abradates disengaged himself from under it, and began to fight on foot, but was forced to yield unto a multitude, who seeing him down fell upon him: so that this valiant Prince and all those with him perished at this time; yet his death was revenged to the full; For Hidaspes and Gadates coming in, they charged all those that fell upon Abradates, with such fury that they forced them to retire in confusion into the body of their battle; Afterwards Hidaspes with those troops under his command charged Arimaspes and his troops, and all the Battalions of the first division, charged those enemies which opposed them with such vigour, that Arimaspes as Great a Commander as he was, was forced to yield unto the valour of Hidaspes, not being able to resist him long. The King of Pontus who fought with as much courage, and ill fortune, perceiving the disorder in Croesus his Army, did what he could to Rally, and was twenty times in danger to be taken: But in that deplorable condition in which he saw himself, he could do no good. Croesus' also, as well as he, gave many rare testimonies of his courage, but could not find any remedy against his misfortunes. He saw the two wings of his Army broken in pieces, and the main body of the battle squandered: He saw the field was covered with his dead and dying men: That terror was in all his Troops: they fled wheresoever Cyrus assaulted them, and in some places where they were not assaulted. So that Croesus' seeing no way but to secure his person, and defend Sardis: And the king of Pontus thinking upon the preservation of the Princess Mandana, both these two Princes resolved to retire; and so they did notwithstanding Cyrus sought all over for them, and could not hear any thing of them: for they were gotten into a great body of horse, which hastily flying, raised such a cloud of dust as obscured their flight, and hindered him from the pursuit: In the mean time Cyrus and Mazares, being both of them in the heads of those wings which they had so gloriously conducted, fell upon the Rear of the enemy's battle, which consisted only of the remainder of Infantry, the Horse being all fled away. So that Cyrus seeing none that was able to resist him, but one Egyptian Battalion which stood still upon their ground: He sent Feraulus to take their Guards the Captain whereof was killed, and to give this Battalion Battle. But as Feraulus did execute the commands of his master, he found that these Egyptians did naught else but cover themselves with their Bucklers, and stood as men that were resolved to die upon the place: Cyrus wondering to see this Battalion neither advance nor retreat; and seeing all his Army victorious, and also the Army of Croesus' quite defeated; He commanded the fight to cease, and to ask the Egyptians, why they would not throw away their arms, if they intended to render themselves, and why they did not fight if they would not? unto this they answered, that the Prince who commanded being dead, and his body in the middle of their Battalion, they were resolved never to forsake it; and therefore if Cyrus would have them submit themselves unto him, he must give them leave to render all the honours which was due unto his body, and go to bury him: this being granted them, they would take the part of Cyrus, and leave Croesus who had forsaken them: otherwise they would be all killed upon the body of their dead Prince: Cyrus no soonner heard their desires, but he admired their fidelity and affection to their Prince, and consented to their demands, appointing Feraulus to let the body of the dead Prince be carried in a Chariot of war whither they would have it, desiring also to speak with the chief commanders of these Egyptians, who without more delay lifted up the corpse of their General. But as if heaven would recompense them for their fidelity, as the Chariot passed by Cyrus, he casting his eyes upon him whom the Egyptians thought to be dead, he perceived that as he leaned his head upon a Buckler, he opened his eyes: so that Cyrus seeing a Prince so handsome as he was, in a condition to be recovered, commanded Feraulus to carry him into one of his tents: so after this pursuing his victory he went before Thybirra, and summoned it, which the same hour submitted unto his discretion. So that having in one day won a battle, took a town, and released the king of Assyria, Tigranes, & Anaxaris, he was most triumphant: it is worth observation, that this prisoner king was he who did capitulate about the surrender of this town, unto which they who took him carried him: for the inhabitants seeing themselves with out any hopes of relief, or any power to defend themselves, threw themselves at his feet, beseeching him to intercede for them unto Cyrus to use them well, which he promised and performed: for Cyrus at the request of his Rival did most generously express all signs of clemency and sweetness unto them upon all occasions. This victory left the conquered no manner of consolation: for the Lydians were totally defeated: they lost all their Artillery, all their Ensigns and all their Chariots, and all their Baggage. Abundance were killed, and abundance were taken prisoners: Arimaspes that valiant Ionian was taken, and died the next day of his wounds: and all this with a very inconsiderable loss unto Cyrus, unless in the death of Abradates which did so sensibly grieve him, that he expressed much sorrow upon the field, and where he encamped that night, notwithstanding his satisfaction not only to see that all his friends and soldiers had exceedingly well behaved themselves, but also that his very Rivals should add unto his glory. Seeing he had now nothing to do for the releasement of Mandana, but to enforce the walls of Sardis, his joys at it did comfort him for the loss of Abradates; whose corpse he sent to seek, that he might render it all the honours it deserved. And since the gods were pleased to shower happinesses upon him, after so many bitter storms of misfortunes, as he went into his tent to rest himself after all his glorious pains, there came a post unto him from Thrasibulus, to let him know that his Armies were no less prosperous under his command, then under his own: for he had vanquished all that ever opposed him, and that the greatest part of all lower Asia was reduced under his Empire: at the same time also arrived an Envoye from Ciaxares, to tell him that he could spare him many fresh troops, because Thomiris was not in a capacity to make any war upon him, since she was desperately sick of a languishing disease which was like to cost her her life, or her reason. And to complete his happiness, a Cavalier whom he knew to be one of those he heretofore had pardoned, for being in the conspiracy of cowardly Artanus; brought him a letter from Mandana, which before he read it, did induce him to believe that he had very ill expounded the oracles of the gods, and that for the future he should be as happy under the name of Cyrus, as he had been miserable under the name of Artamenes.     
The end of the fifth Part.  

THE Third Volume OF ARTAMENES, OR The Grand CYRUS, THAT EXCELLENT NEW ROMANCE: Being the 〈…〉 Sixth PART 〈…〉  
Written by that Famous Wit of FRANCE, MONSIEUR de SCUDERY, Governor of NOTRE DAME.  
And now ENGLISHED by F. G. Esq.  
LONDON, Printed for HUMPHREY MOSELEY at the Prince's Arms in St. Paul's Churchyard; and THOMAS DRING at the George in Fleetstreet. M. DC. LIV.   

ARTAMENES, OR, CYRUS the GREAT. The Sixth Part.  

BOOK. I.  
THough Cyrus was infinitely impatient to see what the incomparable Mandana had writ unto him, yet it was a long time before he could read the Letter; not only because excess of Joy had disordered his heart so much, that he knew not whether he should believe what he saw, but also because he would have the man who brought it tell him, whether he received it from the hand of Mandana? how he saw, and when? but he had no sooner asked him all such questions as he desired to be satisfied in them, without staying for his answer, he opened the Letter which had no superscription, but when he had opened it, he knew her Character, and found in the beginning of it these words. 
 The unfortunate Mandana unte the unfaithful Cyrus. 
  
This Prince had no sooner cast his eyes upon her cruel words, but he stopped, and read them over the second time, yet with so much wonder and despair, that he could not choose but break out into sad expressions of his sorrows, insomuch that feeling his heart full of violent Agitations, he returned in private, but still as he returned he read Mandana's Letter, which contained these words.  
I would I could lock up in my heart my resentments of your Inconstancy: But I do confess my wonder is so great, to hear that you have changed your opinion of me, that I cannot choose but vent both my admiration and indignation; though I know it argues weakeness to make any complaints unto such as offends me, and that it speaks more greatness of Soul not to accuse such Delinquents as we are resolved never to pardon. But since I cannot endure your change without complaint, I will complain like one that will never be appeased: Therefore I do declare unto you, that I will not any longer be the Pretence of the ambition, nor be the innocent cause of all Asia's desolation. Render back unto my Father those Forces which you have of his, to the end my fetters may never be unloosed by your hand, for I confess I had rather remain a Captive still under a respective Ravisher, then to be set at Liberty by a perfidious Prince, who hath heretofore given a hundred illustrious Testimonies of his fidelity unto  
MANDANA.  
Cyrus' read this Letter with so much sadness, with such astonishment and perplexity of spirit, that he was forced to read it over again: But the more he read, the more he was amazed, and the heavier was his heart: and though his innocency might have been a cordial unto him, yet his too delicate a soul could not without extreme sorrow, suffer such an unjust accusation: and his purity of love could not choose but be apprehensive, that Mandana should think him capable of any change in his affection to her; moreover, since it appeared not by her letter who it was she thought he loved, he could not guess whether it was Panthea or Araminta, for he rendered equal civilities unto them both: so that being in a most sad despair, he sent for him who brought the letter, to see if he could draw such conceits from him, as might give him any satisfaction. This man than told him, that being in the citadel of Sardis, when they brought the Princess Mandana and the Princess Palmis thither, he resolved to stay there until he found an opportunity of paying a debt which was upon him, by doing some service unto the Princess Mandana; hoping always to find an occasion to make it known unto some of the women which belonged unto that Princess, how he was ready to attempt any thing which she would command. He further said, that since she was strictly guarded, he could not devise any way how to execute his design, until of late he met with an opportunity of talking with Martesia, who at first gave no credit unto his words, but afterwards believing what he said unto her, she brought him this letter, assuring him it would be a very acceptable piece of service unto the Princess Mandana, if he delivered this letter unto him. Cyrus' seeing this was all he could get out of the man, commanded Ortalques to have a care of him, and conjuring him to let none whatsoever know that he brought a letter from Mandana, for he would not make his Rivals so glad as to know he was in her disfavour: and love is of such a nature, as all those in whom it is predominate, do foresee any thing that may either advantage or disadvantage their Rivals, aswell as themselves: and therefore Cyrus would not add unto his sorrows, those Joys which he should find in the King of Assyria's eyes, if he should come to understand his disgrace. His respects also of Mandana, would not permit him to let it be known unto others, that she was capable of so much injustice and weakness, and as all jealousy does argue love, so his discretion would hide it in the Princess. After Ortalques was returned with him, who thinking he had brought such joyful news unto Cyrus, had filled him full of sorrow: Cyrus called for Feraulas, who was not a little surmised to find so much sadness in his eyes. Sir (said he unto him after the same accustomed freedom which he ever used unto his illustrious Master) I did not think it possible a victorious conqueror could be so melancholy upon the very field of Battle. Ah Feraulas (said Cyrus & showed him Mandanas' Letter) Fortune is more ingenious to torment me then you imagine, see (said he) Read the cruel words which my Princess hath written, which must needs poison all those sweets which use to follow Victory. This is it, which makes me insensible of the glory in Vanquishing, which bitters all my joys, and ruins all my hopes. I must confess (said Feraulas after he had read the Letter) that I wonder how the Princess who is so prudent can think you unfaithful; But for all that, I know not why you should so excessively grieve, for there is no question in the World but it is an easy matter to deceive her. No, no Feraulas (said Cyrus) my misery is not so inconsiderable as you think it: for since my Princess can so easily believe I love her not, and that I fight only out of Ambitious ends; she may as well do me more injury: perhaps she may absolutely take her heart from me, and give it to the King of Pontus, whom certainly she would never have so constantly refused, but for love of me. You know her, you know not how firm her resolutions are: you see how she would not let Mazanes release her, and you see also how she treats me as she did him, since she would have me surrender up unto her father, those forces which are his; and tells me plainly she had rather be in the power of a respective Ravisher, then be released by a perfidious Prince: Fie, fie, Mandana (cried he out) can any so unjust a thought harbour in your mind? can you believe it? is it possible you should set your hand unto it? Alas, alas, but since I see you have, I must needs think you will not see my innocency, but that you are become the most unjust, the most perfidious, and the most ungrateful Princess in the World. But Sir (said Feraulas and interrupted him) why may you not as well believe that as soon as you have taken Sardis, the prejudicated opinion of the Princess will cease? For truly when she shall see you prostitute at her feet, all those Laurels which Fortune and Victory hath Crowned you withal; and that you do no longer look upon Panthea or Araminta, she must needs repent of her error, and render you her affection, which doubtless she never yet took from you, though she have writ it; for if she had, she would never have writ unto you: however it be, said Cyrus, my Princess thinks I love not her, but that I love some other, she thinks that all I have done for her, the giving of so many battles, the many hazards of my life only for her liberty, were only consequents of ambition, not love: though heavens know all my affection of glory, all the ambition of my soul, had never set fire on all Asia, had never overturned so many Provinces, nor Conquered so many Kingdoms, if my love of her had not been my only spurr; yet she thinks & she writes that all was but a Cloak to cover my Ambition, and never telling me whom it is she accuseth me to love, she treats me as one whom she loveth not; truth must be confessed Feraulas, there is some odd fantastical fury in my Fate: may it not be said, that Fortune which makes all in the world happy and miserable, hath forsaken the care of the universe to think upon me only? for by an unexpected cruelty she moves my soul to pass eternally from one extreme to another, and that there is not a minute between an extreme joy and an extreme misfortune: she ever makes the sweet to precede the bitter, so that it plainly appears, she gives me the first only to make me more sensible of the other: do you not see in what a time, on what a day, at what an hour, and in what a place she will have me receive this cruel letter from Mandana? had she sent it before the battle, perhaps Victory would now have sweetened that bitter Wormwood which is in my heart. But on the contrary, I must receive it after I have overcome my enemies, and my Rival: after I know all lower Asia is reduced under my power: receive it when I was ready to take Sardis; in the field of Battle, where I saw nothing about me but signs of my Victory: yet in the midst of all these causes of joy, sorrow must needs clog my soul and overcome it, insomuch as I am most confident that the King of Pontus who hath lost the Victory is not so sad as I am: But he hath more cause than you, replied Feraulas: for truly Sir, all your Arguments cannot persuade me that the Princess can continue long in this belief. However, replied Cyrus, I must make haste and go to Sardis, that I may either perish under the Walls, or else come to throw myself at Mandanas' feet, and ask her with whom she thinks me in love, and that I may protest unto her I love none but herself. After this and much other discourse with Feraulas, he resolved to send him who brought Mandanas' Letter to him, with an answer unto that Princess: For the man seeming to be resolute and bold, Cyrus thought it an easy matter for him to get into Sardis as indeed he did: so Cyrus transported by the violence of his passion writ a letter unto Mandana, but in such haste, as one may swear it was the dictate of his heart, and his hand following his thoughts he writ these words.  
Unhappy CYRUS unto unjust MANDANA.  
MADAM,  
It must needs be that I love you better than ever any did, since notwithstanding your injustice in calling me perfidious, I love you no less than I did before. On the contrary, my passion is so violent, and your unjust accusation makes me so sensible of it, that if you did but know the resentments of my soul, you would confess yourself to be the most cruel and unjust woman in the world. If fortune in War continue her smiles upon me, and that I find no greater difficulty in taking Sardis then in winning that Battle which Croesus and the King of Pontus lost; you shall ere long (Madam) see me at your feet; and as you were my first passion, so you shall be my last. In the interim, I beseech you remember that you permitted me to affect glory; and that's the reason, I did not think it handsome to be rigorous after conquest; but that it was permitted me to be civil towards two great but unfortunate Princesses, and to compassionate their miseries. This is all I have done (to too unjust Mandana) unto the two only Ladies I have seen since the War began; and to the only persons I think you can suspect me to be in love with. But how was it possible (Madam) you should do so? How comes it to pass you knew yourself, and me no better? However I beseech you, dispense with me from surrendering my power unto the King your Father, until I have set you at liberty, and when that is done (Madam) and when I have conquered all my rivals, I shall surrender the Army which I command unto the King of Medes, and leave you all the Crowns I have conquered, that you may wear them upon your head, and then (as I have already said) I will come and prostrate myself at your feet, and either die with sorrow & love, or else persuade you that I was never unfaithful, and that never any since the world began did love one more, than you are by  
CYRUS.  
This Letter being written, Cyrus read it over more than once, imagining that his repetitions of it, would persuade Mandana of his innocency, and after he had sealed it, Feraulas was to give it unto the man who was to deliver it: yet upon second thoughts, Cyrus would needs deliver it with his own hand, and it may truly be said, that never bringer of ill news was better recompensed. After this he was forced against his will to take some hours of rest: and the weariness of the day precedent, and his sorrows were something charmed by sleep, 'tis true his sleep was but an interrupted slumber, and far from soft security: for since his Imagination was swelled with nothing but tumultuous things, his sleep and dreams could not be pleasant. But to see the force of his love, & tenderness of his affections; in lieu of dreaming upon combatts and noise, he dreams only of Mandana and Abradates: he was full of various dreams, though all were sad ones: sometimes he saw Mandana without Abradates, but he never saw Abradates without Mandana: this Princess was most deeply imprinted in his Fancy, as well as in his heart, though that part of the soul is accustomed to be light & extravagant, and will ordinarily represent several kinds of objects, especially in sleep. 'Tis true, the sleep of Cyrus was not deep, nor lasted long: assoon as he was awake, a council of war was held in his Tent where the King of Assyria, Mussanes, and all those that used to be there, were present; where it was resolved, that without giving any time unto the enemy, to recollect himself, or to the King of Pontus to carry Mandana out of Sardis, they should the same hour go and beleaguer the Town: so that without more delay, they considered the situation of it, & when quarters were most convenient to be possessed: Cyrus then assigned the quarters unto all his Army, which was to march that very hour: but he himself stayed until the next day, because he intended a visit unto Panthea to condole the death of Abradates with her, and to comfort her: but news was brought that his Corpses could not be found upon the place where he fought, by reason of the abundance of men slain which lay dead upon the ground; Cyrus commanded search should be made the second time, and sent for all the Captains that fought under Abradates and were alive, to assure them that he would recompense the admirable service both of their Master and them: Then after he had taken all requisite order for the Siege of Sardis, and for the interment of the dead, he took horse to visit Panthea, all orders for the beleaguering of the Town were easily executed; for as Cyrus foresaw it would come to that pass, he brought all manner of Engines with him, which were requisite for the taking of that Town: But before he went to the place where Panthea was, he stepped into the Tent into which the Egyptian Prince was carried, who was so loved by his soldiers; The chief of those Egyptians who never did nor would forsake him; told Cyrus, that the Surgeons, after search of his wounds, did not despair of Life, but yet would not undertake for him; and though the Physicians did forbid any to speak with him, yet theywould permit their illustrious Conqueror to enter, but he refused, knowing it might prejudice their wounded Master: so commanding that all possible care should be had of him, and assuring those Egyptians that they might expect any thing from his assistance, he departed. But as Cyrus was as sad after Victory as if he had been conquered: so Croesus and the King of Pontus were in a most deplorable condition; the first of these in flying away after the loss of the Battle, did foresee the loss of his Kingdom: and though the Delphique Oracle assured him, that if he undertook War with Cyrus, he should ruin a great Empire, he was afraid he meant his own, and that he understood the Oracle since he saw himself so near ruin: on the other part, the King of Pontus considering he was the cause of his ruin who had protected him, imagined that he should now lose Mandana as he had lost his Kingdoms; so that these two Princes retired in silence and mourned in secret for their lamentable condition, not being able to complain either against Fortune, or one another, or of themselves, since they knew themselves to be the causes of their miseries: Terror had struck so deep into the hearts of all their remainder of troops, that those which followed them did continually imagine themselves to be followed and assaulted: so that by degrees they disbanded themselves, and in little troops took several ways: And Croesus and the King of Pontus saw themselves so slenderly accompanied, that they could easily count all that followed them: so that considering how in the morning they were in the head of 200000 Men, and that before night they saw themselves without one servant, sorrow and despair did so seize upon their sad souls, that not knowing what they did, and coming unto a place where the●e were several ways, they parted from each other without any intention so to do, and there was so very few men with them, that it may well be said they were alone. Which way soever Croesus turned his eyes at the beginning of his flight, he saw nothing but dead and dying men, and men that fled: Presently after he saw none but a few affrighted persons who saved themselves in the Town with their Baggage: At last leaving the high way, and crossing the Country to get unto Sardis unseen in such a despicable condition, he came unto a little solitary valley: so that coming out of a terrible tumultuous world into a place where all was silent but only a little murmuring Rivulet, where birds were singing, he sighed, and, as if a place of silence were a place of safety, he marched softly: But as he turned his head to see who followed, he found himself alone, for of those four or five which did follow him when the King of Pontus strayed from him, one of them had his horse wounded, and could nor follow; another himself wounded and stayed behind, and all having some impediment or other upon them, left their unfortunate Prince, who seeing himself alone in this solitary Valley, than knew, that all his beloved treasures were but useless vanities, and that wise Solon had good reason to despise them. Whilst he was there in his sad contemplations still going forward, he heard the sound of a pleasing Pipe, and turning himself that way, he saw that he who played upon that Rustic Instrument, was a young silly Shepherd about fourteen or fifteen years of age; who without any fear of public misery, or knowledge of any Battle that had been fought, played upon his Pipe, and kept a little flock as innocent as himself: Croesus then standing still and considering this young Shepherd who was very fair, sighed with more Bitterness than his country music was sweet, and casting up his eyes unto heaven, he envied the happiness of this silly Boy; and though he was a King, yet wished with all his heart he could change his Sceptre into this Shepherd's hook. But since he could not be dictator to his destiny, nor alter the mutable decree of that sovereign power which rules the world, he continued his March, and came at last to Sardis, where he was received by all the people with tears of tenderness and sorrow. The King of Pontus who wandered another way came not till an hour after him: so did likewise the Prince Myrsiles and the Prince of Myssia, who had taken another way. All the Princes did what they could to keep up the hearts of the People: but every minute wounded men came in, who told the people of the death of some friend or other, so that it was a hard matter, to gull those men who saw their King return single after he went out in the head of the greatest Army in the World. Moreover these Princes understood that the Thracians in lieu of coming to Sardis, after they were rallied, faced about into their own country: and that the Ionian Troops did the like; the Myssians also followed their example and retired: so that in all appearance they could never recruit into a body again, and that their only course was to keep the Town, till they could make new levies for their relief. Thus the people being too well informed of the lamentable state of things, did murmur highly, and said very boldly, that the Prince Artamas must be released, that there was no other way to prevent the danger which hung over their heads, and that it was a shame for the Lydians to let so innocent a Prince be in prison, who had formerly established their Empire by so many brought-home Victories, and who only was able to check the Power of Cyrus. This murmur of the people seemed so full of justice and reason, that it became the general opinion of all in a short time, and nothing could be heard of in all places, but that Artamas was innocent, Artamas was a gallant man, Artamas knew what belonged to war, he was a great captain and a fortunate conqueror; so that pure respect which they bore unto their Sovereign, kept them from releasing this Prince. But Croesus thought these respects (considering the urgent necessity of things) too weak an obstacle to prevent it; so that he told them, he would release him, and in order to that, he propounded unto Prince Artamas to set him at liberty upon condition he would defend the walls of Sardis against Cyrus. But since this Prince could not accept of this condition, unless he should fight against the King of Phrygia his Father, therefore as well as he loved the Princess Palmis, and as great a desire as he had to prevent the ruin of Croesus, he refused it: yet with so many signs of sorrow and evident testimonies of respect, as made it apparent he grieved that Croesus should have such enemies, against whom neither honour nor nature would permit him to fight. However this unfortunate King was much incensed at the denial of Prince Artamas, and doubling his guards, he divulged amongst the people all that he could possibly devise, to allay their zeal of releasing him. But the giddy incensed people who are light and capable of any impressions, still continued their devices of this Prince's liberty, making eternal Eulogies of his Valour and Magnanimity, and railing against Croesus, threatening every hour to release this renowned Prisoner, before they would sleep: yet they did not attempt it. In the mean time the King of Pontus took such order in the Citadel, that the Princess Mandana and the Princess Palmis knew not that the Battle was lost, until Sardis was besieged: as for the Princess Mandana her soul was so full of sorrow that Cyrus should prove perfidious, that those thoughts took up all her mind, and she enquired of nothing; therefore it was easy to hide it from her. But whilst she thought upon nothing but the suspected inconstancy of the most constant Prince in the World: And whilst the Princess Palmis thought upon nothing but the deplorable condition of the King her Father, and the Prince Artamas, and whilst all the cares of Croesus was to secure the walls of Sardis, and whilst the King of Pontus looked for nothing but death in defending the Citadel, and whilst the Prince Myrsilesse, the Prince of Myssia, Pactias and all other commanders were busy in fortifying the Town, and whilst the tumultuous discontented people disapproved of all that the Princes did, not knowing whether it was right or wrong, Cyrus, though a Conqueror, yet went in extreme sorrow to visit Panthea: But in his going thither, he had some repagnancy against it; for since he knew it was either she or Araminta with whom Mandana thought him in love, he feared lest this visit should hurt him, and lest Fame (which carries the least actions of Princes over all the World) should let Mandana know it. But for all that, Abradates dying in his service, nothing could hinder him; since his soul was full of sorrows, he would go not only with a small compay, but also a dark way, by the River Halis until he came at the castle where the Queen of Susiana lodged, yet he needed not to go so far to seek her, for assoon as news was brought unto that Princess how the Battle was fought, not telling her Abradates was killed, she took Coach immediately without acquainting the Princess Araminta or Doralissa, so that taking none with her but Phinenc●e, two other women, and a few servants, she went unto the place of fight by the same way which Cyrus took to come unto her; and though Phinencie did all she could to dissuade her from this voyage, yet needs would she go, telling her, that if Abradates were living, she could not go too soon to rejoice with him; if he were wounded, she could not go too soon neither to help him; and that if he were dead, she could not make too much hast to follow him unto his Grave: so that her Coach going as fast as her Horses could draw it, and going also all the Night, she came unto the place where Cyrus, who was coming to her, discovered her Coach, yet not knowing it to be hers: but that which took up his eyes most was to see her stop and stay by another near the River, where many men were doing something which he could not discern; his curiosity was much higher when he saw women come out of their Coach which stopped in much haste, one of which sat down upon the earth, but he could not discern what she did, Cyrus seeing all this, without any extraordinary apprehension, went on still towards them. But he was extremely surprised, when coming nearer, one of those men whom he sent to seek the Corpse of Abradates told him, that his companions and himself had found it and brought it to the River side, with intentions to carry it in the next Boat that passed by unto the place where Panthea was: but no Boat passing by, and an empty Coach coming that way, they altered their intentions, so that as they were ready to put the Body of Abradates into it, Panthea came unto them, who no sooner knew the Body of her Husband, but that she came hastily out of her Coach, and sat down by it upon the ground, making such lamentable cries, and showering out such floods of Tears, as never was more sad an object. Cyrus' making haste unto her, and lighting from his Horse a little distance from this deplorable Princess, he saw her sit by the Corpse of Abradates, from whom they had not taken his Rich suit of Arms which Panthea gave him; for the enemy being vanquished they had no time to think of Plunder, or stripping the dead, and Cyrus pursued so far, that his men were busied another way. 'Tis true these stately Arms had lost much of their lustre by reason of the abundance of blood which dimmed the Diamonds, and turned them to fatal Rubies; but as for him, he was so little changed, that he only looked a little pale: Panthea, who held his head in her lap, upon whom she fixed her eyes and bedewed with abundance of Tears which she continually wiped off that she might look upon her dear Abradates, her Tears were accompanied with sighs so sad and loud, which came from the depths of her heart, and from the saddest heart that ever was, so that they could not choose but fill all spectators full of sorrow and compassion. This Princess was so sadly taken up with this so fatal object, that she saw not Cyrus when he came unto her: and certainly she had not known he was there, if the Prince extremely moved at the sight of dead Abradates and to see Panthea in such a pitiful condition, had not kneeled down upon the ground to comfort her, and by his loud language moved her to turn towards him. I would it were the will of the Gods, Madam (said Cyrus unto her, with such a sadness upon his face as sufficiently testified the sorrows of his soul) that I could revive the Illustrious Abradates with the loss of my life; and that the loss of my blood could stop your tears. You see, Madam, how much the loss of Abradates troubles me, and how your sorrows grieve me. At first Panthea could answer Cyrus no way but by profound sighs and sobs, which would not give her leave to speak. But as this Princess had a soul as great as sensible, she recollected herself. Sir (said she unto him with a doleful lifting up of her eyes, and with her right hand pointing at her dear Abradates) since I have received this fatal loss, you never need to think of stopping up my tears, since it is the office of death to do it, and which ere long most certainly shall. May you quietly enjoy that Victory which you have got, and remember sometimes, that my dear unfortunate Abradates was perhaps the Victim which rendered the Gods propitious unto you. But, Sir, whilst my sorrows are sobbing over Abradates, I forget my obedience unto his last commands. In saying so, she pulled out a paper sealed, and gave it unto Cyrus. Sir (said she unto him) the day before the departure of my dearest Abradates from me, he gave me this, which I present unto you, with orders so to do if he died in your service. You see he's dead, Sir (said she, and showered tears afresh) and therefore you may see there what he desired you should know. Cyrus did what he could to get Panthea into her Coach, and to let them lay the Corpse of Illustrious Abradates in the other, desiring to defer the reading of the Letter which she gave him, until so sad an object as dead Abradates was removed; but she would not by any means, so that this Prince not daring to contend too much with her in the first apprehensions of her sorrow, did as she would have him, and began to see what Abradates had writ with his own hands. As soon as he opened it, he saw these ensuing words written in a greater Character than the rest of the lines.  
The Last Will of ABRADATES.  
I Leave my heart and entire affections unto my dearest Panthea, and my Kingdom unto the Illustrious Cyrus; upon no other condition, but that he shall protect this Princess who wore the Crown, and comfort her after my death: Conceiving that all my Subjects will be as obedient unto this Prince as unto myself; and knowing that I cannot do an act more glorious for myself, then to make choice of such a Successor, nor more profitable for them, then by giving them such a Sovereign; nor more advantageous for the Queen my dearest Wife, then in procuring her so generous a Protector.  
ABRADATES.  
After Cyrus had read what the King of Susiana had writ, he was astonished at the generosity of this Prince, so much, that his sorrow began afresh; and since his great soul could never yield unto any in point of Generosity, I must needs declare unto you, Madam (said he unto Panthea) that I accept only of this last Qualification which the ever Renowned Abradates hath conferred upon me, conceiving that he would never have constituted me King of Susiana, but because the Laws of his Country would not permit him to make you Queen. But I accept of the title of your Protector, with hopes of meriting it by my services, and protecting you against all the world. I do declare, and promise you, never to make use of this Authority which Abradates hath given me in his Dominions unto any other end, but only to settle the Crown upon your head. Your expressions (replied Panthea) are worthy of yourself, and worthy of Abradates his friend. But, Sir, I need no more than a Tomb large enough to hold Abradates and myself: Therefore I beseech and conjure you to leave me by myself awhile with this dear illustrious Corpse, which I am fully resolved never to forsake. I know, Madam (said Cyrus unto her) that your sorrows are but just, and that they may be extreme without ever accusing you of any weakness. But, Madam, it is requisite that you should preserve the memory of Abradates; and in order to that, it is requisite you should live. Therefore I most humbly, and earnestly beseech you, let us go and prepare a Tomb worthy of his Valour and Quality; and give me leave to separate you from him, whom death too cruelly before me hath separated you. I conjure you unto it (said Cyrus, and taking one of the hands of this Illustrious Corpse) by the most valiant Prince that ever lived, and by the only man of all the world whom you loved. But, alas, Cyrus was extremely surprised to see this hand which was quite cut off from the arm of Abradates with a sword, remaining in his own, and separated from the body of his illustrious friend; his speech failed him, tears dropped from his eyes; and Panthea redoubling hers, took his valiant hand out of the hand of Cyrus; and after she had kissed it with abundance of tenderness, and respect, she laid it in its place, as if she desired to fasten it unto his arm again, washing it with many tears as quite took away all the blood wherewith it was sprinkled in several places: It is myself, said she, it is I who am the cause of Abradates, my dear Abradates his death; for I had not confidence enough in his own accustomed valour, to pay that debt which I owed unto you, Sir: I spoke a hundred things which moved him to surpass himself; and I am most confident, that his love of me caused him to precipitate himself into the midst of dangers: Is it possible I should look upon him and live? Can I suffer any should speak unto me of any such thing as consolation? Madam (said Cyrus unto her) since your miseries cannot be remedied, you ought to endure them patiently. Abradates' died full of glory; his memory will pass to Posterity with honour; but to make it more illustrious, it is your part, Madam, to make the constancy of your soul equal his courage; and it is my part also to make the friendship betwixt me and him, and the respects I have of you, conduce unto his glory, and your tranquillity. I beseech you, Madam, tell me whither it is your pleasure I should conduct you; and leave it unto my care, to provide for the Funerals of this Illustrious Corpse. Sir (said she unto him, with a little more serenity in her looks) I beseech you let me have the sight of this dear Corpse only one quarter of an hour, and let me have the liberty to lament in silence and privacy when none shall be with me. Cyrus, unwilling to contradict her too much, rose up, and taking Phinence apart as well as Belisis, and Hermogenes who followed him, he began to desire her she would help him to persuade Panthea, that they might take away this doleful object from before their eyes: But Phinence and Hermogenes were so sadded with sorrows, that they could not speak; and as for Belesis, he durst not think that his eloquence could prevail where all the Rhetoric of Cyrus could not. None of the other men which waited upon this Prince were so near as to speak unto this miserable Queen; so then seeing he was the only man who must deal with her, since Phinence could not by reason of her extreme grief, and abundance of tears, he began to chide Panthea: But Phinence who by long experience knew she could not endure to be crossed in her first apprehensions of sorrow, restrained him, and desired him to give her a minute's patience. Stay, Sir, said she, I beseech you stay: I will if I can stop the current of my tears, and cast myself at the Queen's feet, and endeavour to get her from Abradates. But whilst Cyrus, Phinence, Hermogenes, and Belesis were devising how they might separate Panthea from dead Abradates, this deplorable Princess was devising in her mind what course she should take never to be parted from him. And since Fate favoured her dismal design to die, she espied a Dagger which her dear Abradates had about him, which he used not in Battle; so that conceiving herself to be the cause of her husband's death, not only in what she had said unto him at parting, but also because she did first engage him on Cyrus his Quarrel, she thought the Gods did suffer Abradates to have this Dagger, that she might by it both punish herself, and free herself from all her miseries. Since she had lost all she loved, nothing could please her; she could not conceive she ought ever to comfort herself; and she thought it a shame to live since Abradates was dead. So that her excessive sorrow made her think death to be the greatest good that ever could befall her. She no sooner espied this Dagger, but taking it unseen by any of the company, because every one diverted their eyes from that lamentable object, she struck it into her body, and drawing it out again to give herself a second blow, she had not strength enough; she leaned upon the body of her dearest Abradates, the blood which poured out of her wound, gushed upon the arm of this Illustrious dead corpse. Though those who were near Panthea never perceived this act; yet one that was a servant unto this Princess, and who was farther off, did see her take this Dagger, and crying out aloud, and running towards her, his voice made Cyrus, and all the rest turn their heads towards him, and not towards Panthea; so that this was partly a cause that none but this Servant saw the act, and by consequence why they could not prevent it. But since the loud cries of this Servant doubled, who still cried out, and never told why, Cyrus began to suspect something; he went towards him, and coming near Panthea, he found her at the last gasp; yet she opened her fair eyes, turning them towards Abradates, and afterwards up to Heaven, where they fixed without any further sign of life. Cyrus was so amazed at this sad accident; so grieved for the death of two such Illustrious persons, and so astonished at the great heart of Panthea, that he was not able to express either his wonder or his sorrows. On the other side, Pherenice, and the rest of the women were so full of pitiful lamentations, as would have melted hearts of Marble. And the amaze was so generally amongst them all that were present spectators of this bleeding spectacle, that none of them were able to comfort another: And to complete this Tragical adventure, three of the Queen's servants killed themselves within ten paces from the Queen: And Araspes, ignorant of this accident, came by, by chance, and saw the dead Queen, whose Beauty surmounted his Virtue, and overcame the insensibility of his heart; Araspes being of a violent hasty composition, and still in love, though he was full of respects unto Cyrus, yet his Passion was above his Reason, and the greatness of his Love did appear in the greatness of his Despair, that he deserved some excuse for no better concealing it. His eyes were full of fury, he knew not whom he spoke unto, and asked all one after another, what brought Panthea unto this condition: He could not believe she was dead by her own hand, and resolved to revenge her death as soon as ever he should know the cause. But when at last he believed what was told him, he turned his fury against himself, and had he not been prevented, would have fallen upon his sword: Afterwards he would have thrown himself into the River, if Cyrus had not commanded two of his friends to have an eye over him, and not to forsake him; otherwise he had infallibly followed Panthea to the grave. In the mean time, seeing no remedy for this sad accident, he caused the bodies of Abradates and Panthea to be put in one Coach, and the women of the Princess in the other; himself following on horseback with his men, towards the Castle where the Princess Araminta was. Cyrus also caused the bodies of those servants which killed themselves, to be brought, to the end they might be buried close by the Tombs of their Princes. He sent Feraulas to order all things necessary for the Funerals of these two Illustrious persons, which he desired should be as magnificent as possible. In the mean while the Princess Araminta,, who with extreme impatience expected the Queen of Susiana's return, was in the window of her chamber with Cleonice, Doralisa, and the rest of the Ladies, which were Prisoners when these two Coaches arrived, and followed by Cyrus: So that she was infinitely surprised to see one of the fairest Princesses in the world, and one of the most valiant Heroes upon earth in such a lamentable condition. Cyrus' commanded their bodies to be laid in a great Hall under a Canopy of State, covering them with a Counterpane of black Velvet: He also commanded abundance of Crystal Lamps to be placed in the Hall, and there these two Illustrious Corpse to remain until the Ceremonies of Funeral were ready. In the mean whil Cyrus went to the Princess Araminta to condole with her, rather than to comfort her; but what consolation soever he found in her company, he made no long visit there. Yet he assured her that the King her Brother was neither dead, nor wounded, as he understood by some Prisoners which were taken. After which he left her, saying, he would wait upon her the next day; for he was resolved to honour the Funerals of Abradates and Panthea with his presence. After this Cyrus visited Cleonice and Doralisa in their chambers, whither they were retired; bringing Cleonice unto them, and comforting them with extraordinary civility. He assured them he would have as great a care of them as ever Panthea had; nor would he forget the very meanest of her Vassals. But to testify how much he honoured the dead, he command Chrisantes to provide Architectors for the erecting of a stately Tomb of Marble and Porphyry in the same place where Panthea died. The next day following an Egyptian Sacrificer embalmed their bodies after the custom of the Country, which was to keep them incorruptible: After which they were laid in a Temple close by, until their Tombs were built, whereon Cyrus caused their Epitaph to be written in many Languages; setting forth to all that read them, the Valour of Abradates, the beauty and virtue of Panthea, their dear affections to one another, their lives and deaths, and the fidelity of their servants. After Cyrus had rendered the honours due unto Abradates and Panthea, he resolved to see the Princess Araminta once more before he went whither his honour, or to say better, his love called him. But in seeing her, he conceived, that since she had so much confidence in his discretion, as to acquaint him how Spitridates was jealous of her and him, so he conceived it expedient to acquaint her, how Mandana was jealous of him and her; but his principal motive of all was, because he had a design to take all manner of choler from Mandana, to be jealous of him; and in order to that, he beseeched this Princess not to think it strange if he visited her no more until he had delivered the Princess of Medea from her imprisonment, and had justified himself: but the best of the story was, that at the very same time he intended to acquaint Araminta, she intended to entreat him that he would see her seldomer, lest those who persuaded Spitridates of what was so far from truth, should thereby have some ground whereupon to build their suppositions, so that Cyrus needed not to fear his request would be offensive to her. Afterwards she conjured him, that as long as the Siege lasted, he would not suffer the Prince Phraartes to visit her. But wonder was, that these two prudent persons, who had such great reason not to be long together, yet this time held a very long conference; for after they had discoursed of their misfortunes, and after she had put him in memory of all his promises concerning the King her Brother, they began to talk of Abradates and Panthea. Cyrus' entreated her she would be pleased to take a care of Pherencie and Doralisa until they had resolved upon some course, and that she would be pleased to let Cleonissa and her friends stay with her till the Siege was ended; after which he left her, and went in all haste to lay close Siege unto Sardis. But in his way, he called at the Tent of the Egyptian Prince, whom he found in a condition to be seen, and to be carried unto the same Castle where the Princess Araminta was, whither Cyrus caused him to be conducted, and where he lay in the Chamber of the unfortunate Panthea: the interview of these two Princes began such a friendship, and ended not but with their lives; for from this very first day they found in each other all the qualities that could be wished for in friends. When Cyrus first entered into the Tent of this illustrious wounded Prince, who was called Sesostris, the Grandeur which appeared in his Aspect surprised him, for though he then seemed to be of a very handsome composure the first time he saw him, yet since he saw him not but when he lay in a swound, he found a very advantageous alteration in him. But as Cyrus was very pleasingly surprised at the sight of Sesostris, so Sesostris was infinitely surprised at the sight of Cyrus, who produced his customary effect in the hearts of all that look upon him, which is, to move respect and admiration. Since Sesostris did owe his life unto Cyrus, and was infinitely obliged unto him, for his so generous usage of his men, he returned him a compliment of gratitude. Sir (said he in the Grecian language, knowing that Cyrus spoke it admirably well, but was not so well versed in the Egyptian Tongue) I am very glad that Fortune which in divers other occasions hath been such an enemy unto me, hath been favourable to me in this, and hath brought me to take that side, which is both more just and more fortunate, then that wherein I was. But Sir the principal reason why I think myself so obliged unto Fortune, is, because by her I enjoy the honour of seeing you, as I most earnestly desired. I think myself extremely honoured (replied Cyrus modestly) that a Prince so highly honoured for his virtue by his Soldiers as you are, should have any inclination to love me; for it is to be believed, that so many Valiant men would not reverence you so much as they do, unless you were more valiant than they are. But Sir, I do admire, I should never till now hear tell that there was a Prince in Egypt, which carried the name of Sesostris; and knowing all the acts of the great Sesostris, who heretofore was so highly Victorious in Asia, and Arabia; I should be ignorant who this Sesostris is whom now I see so illustrious. Sir (replied this wounded Prince) when I shall have rendered myself worthy your esteem by some considerable action, I shall then tell you who I am, and until then, I cannot think myself in a condition able to let you know the disasters of myself and Family. Cyrus, perceiving that much speaking might prejudice the health of this Prince, would not press him any further, but parted from him infinitely well pleased and satisfied. One of the principal Egyptian commanders who was with Sesostris waiting upon Cyrus to his Horse, told him that Sesostris was one of a most prodigious spirit and Valour, and assured him, that when he shall be acquainted with his quality truly, he will find his merits surpass the most illustrious that are in the world. After which Cyrus leaving him, went in all haste unto the Camp: assoon as he came there, the Kings of Assyria, Phrygia, Hyrcania, Mazares, Anaxaris, and all the rest, rendered him an account how all things stood, yet he did not altogether trust unto them but went himself to view all the Quarters, & to spy out the strong and the weak places. But upon exact view and consideration he was very sorry to find them much more strong than they were reported unto him; yet what difficulty soever there was in taking it by force, he was resolved not to make a long war of it, nor to make a regular Siege of it, by raising Forts and casting Lines about it, and he chose rather to lose some men than to be a long time thought unconstant unto Mandana; yet he thought it expedient not to press too hard upon Sardis, until he made sure one side of the Town, at which he feared the King of Pontus might carry away the Princess. In the mean time, as he would never neglect any thing which was becoming him, so he sent unto the Prince of Classomina, whom he acquainted by Letter with the deaths of Abradates and Panthea; he sent also unto Ciaxares, to let him know of his Victory, and to tell him that he had no need of those Forces which he offered him; he sent also unto Persepolis to the King his Father, and the Queen his Mother; he desired also that Alcenor would go into Susa, accompanied with Artabases and Adusius, and that they should carry with them the last Will of Abradates, the better to move the people to put it in execution; his device was also to send Hermogenes: but this generous friend knowing that Cyrus would send Belesis also, he desired a dispensation, not daring to trust himself, but feared he was never able to see Cleodora come out of the Temple of Ceres, without some resentments of sorrow, if so it chanced that Belessis should persuade her to come out, so that there was only Abradates, Adusius, Belesis, Alcenor, and some other Susanians who were in commission to go into Susa: They did not take their leaves of Cyrus without expressions of much sorrow to leave him at such a time, when they might be serviceable unto him. Cyrus to testify his acknowledgement of Belesis his zeal towards him, wrote unto Cleodora to assure her of her adorers fidelity. Mazares also did the same, and that Belesis might not be necessitated to tell Cleodora himself what a miserable discontented life he lived, this Prince sent Orsanas with him. The parting between Mazares and Belesis was exceedingly sad; aswell as that between Belesis and Hermogenes who had so much power over himself, as to let his friend see he was well satisfied and contented. Cyrus' appointed Alcenor and Belesis to go and bid adieu unto Doralisa and Pherenice, who might perhaps employ them in some business. When Cyrus had given satisfaction unto all others, he thought upon nothing but how to satisfy himself in releasing Mandana. The King of Assyria and Mazares were much in Admiration to observe he was more disquieted after the Victory, than he was before; yet they could not dive into the reason, but did in vain seek for it: however, the melancholy of Cyrus' beginning to lessen by reason of his hopes ere long to justify himself; their curiosity did lessen accordingly, and both they and he thought upon nothing but the taking of Sardis; yet had they very different thoughts, for Cyrus hoped that by the taking of this Town he should justify himself in the opinion of Mandana; and assoon as he had vanquished the King of Assyria, to enjoy her: but as for this King, the taking of Sardis, and the vanquishing of Cyrus would not suffice to make him happy, for when all this was done, he had the obduracy of Mandana, to vanquish which in all probability he could never hope for, unless in the promise of the Oracle; as for Mazares he was in a more miserable condition than they both; for which way soever squares went he could never find any favourable hopes, he did his best to banish that hope out of his heart, by banishing that love which first planted it there, so that at the same time when he fought against the Lydians, he fought against himself: and there passed not a day away, wherein love and virtue did not contend which should have the dominion of his soul. In the mean while Cyrus was extremely vigilant, he went perpetually from quarter to quarter, and longed with exceeding impatiency to see things in such a state, as they might make an assault upon the Town, though all the Walls were manned with such a multitude of soldiers, that the very thought of placing ladders, was enough to stagger the stoutest resolution. 'Tis true, that those which in the Town upon their ramparts, seeing this great victorious Army environ it, were not terrified with the spectacle, as not doubting their ruin, thought upon nothing but how to sell their lives at as dear a rate as they could; yet the sight of this apparent danger did not produce the same effect in the hearts of all the inhabitants, for the Town was so divided among themselves, that Croesus stood in as great fear of his own subjects, as of his enemies. As love is such an heroic pass on as is infinitely above the capacity of the vulgar, so the people of Sardis could not believe that Mandana was the real cause of the War; but on the contrary they imagined it to be ambition only which exasperated Cyrus against them; so that knowing how this Prince had rendered back the Kingdom unto the King of Armenia after he had conquered it, and that he contented himself only with the honour of it, and making him to pay a tribute which was due unto Ciaxares. Therefore the rout of the people took up a Fancy, to say that Croesus had no better way then to propose unto Cyrus to become his Vassal, imagining that this Prince would accept of it: so that this fancy passing from mind to mind, and from mouth to mouth, it raised so great a tumult in the Town, that Croesus to calm it, was forced to tell the people, that he would make some propositions of peace unto Cyrus, but yet must stay a few days first. Whilst Croesus and the King of Pontus were in this condition, Cyrus whose great soul thought nothing difficult, prepared himself for a general assault. 'Tis true, one side of the Town towards the Mountain Tinolus, was so inaccessible, that there was no possibility of assaulting it on that side, and every where else, the Walls were so full of men, that there was apparent danger in the assault: however, Cyrus resolved to attempt it, he visited all his Engines, and Ladders, to see if they were long enough: he mustered up all his forces, he spoke his soldiers fair, and after he had given order to assault it in three places at once, the one of which was to be commanded by the King of Assyria, the other by Mazares, and the third by himself, This Prince was the first that put a Ladder against the Walls of this Famous Town, after the ditch was filled full of Faggots, maugre the resistance of his enemies, considering the disorder in the Town, there was great hope of good success unto Cyrus in the attempt. Yet the report was no sooner spread about amongst the Inhabitants of Sardis, that their Town was ready to be stormed, but despair did so rouse up their spirits, and made them so Valiant, that there was hardly a woman that went not to defend it, and had not to throw upon the heads of them that climbed the Ladders: indeed the resistance of the Lydians animated by the King of Pontus was such, that all the valour of Cyrus, and them that sought under him, could not force them that day; Cyrus was repulsed above twenty times from the top of the walls; and if fortune had not haply preserved him, he had most certainly perished at this bout, for the enemies did so stoutly defend themselves, that there was no possibility to get upon their Ramparts: nothing but overturned and broken Ladders could be seen; there flew from the Walls of Sardis such a prodigious number of Arrows, Darts, and Javelines, that the Air was obscured by them, those who escaped them, miss not a shower of stones, which were continually thrown at them; they also had a kind of Sythes which kept the Walls from the assaultants, so that all three divisions were forced to come off: but Cyrus in his coming off quartered under the counterscarph of the Mote, since he would not be upbraided with getting no advantage. Anaxaris, who fought that day next him, and did such wonders, that Cyrus confessed he never saw a more valiant man, did exceedingly help this Prince to take this Quarter, and to keep it: the night also coming on, did much facilitate the work, and made it in a condition to be kept; yet Cyrus was very sorry his first assault succeeded no better; but knowing all days were not alike in War, he shrunk not, no more than the King of Assyria or Mazares who were very gallant that day, and he commended his soldiers, as indeed he had no reason to complain, for they did as much as any courageous men could do. He was so happy as to lose not one man of any quality in this storm, 'tis true, a great number of soldiers were killed, so that assoon as day appeared, a truce was made to carry off the dead, during which time Cyrus was very circumspect to observe whether there was any other quarter of the Wall which might be attempted with less difficulty. But whilst he was considering what was advantageous or disadvantageous, the Lydians, who in reason should have been more courageous, after they had repulsed their enemies, became more cowed in their spirits, for many of them being wounded and killed, they were more affrighted then before, the women seeing their husbands and children wounded and killed, were so full of cries and tears, that they melted the hearts and courages of the rest, so that supposing their King might now make a more advantageous treaty after he had repulsed Cyrus then before, they began to speak of nothing else, and that in so high a manner, as this unfortunate Prince would willingly have parted with Mandana to save his Crown. But the King of Pontus had so cunningly carried the matter, as Croesus was not Master of the Citadel, for this Prince had so complied with Pactias and all the soldiers, that Croesus could not dispose of it: insomuch as this unfortunate King was not Master so much as of his own Daughter, nor of the only Town which was left him. In the mean time Cyrus being advertised by some spies which Andramites employed, and which went in and out of the Town, that the tumult began to grow high, resolved to let them alone, and try what it would produce before he would give a second assault: also intending to assault in all places of the Town which were accessible, he found he had not Ladders enough for it, so that he contented himself with keeping that quarter which he had made, and to repulse those enemies which two or three times did endeavour to dislodge them that guarded it; but as oft as they sallied, Cyrus beat them back so sharply, that at last they thought no more upon it. As all things stood upon these tepmes, Leontidas accompanied with an Envoye from Philoxipeses, came from Thrasibulus and Harpagus, to acquaint Cyrus with the particulars of the happy success, which before he hinted unto him presently after the Battle was won: Cyrus no sooner saw them, but he was as much Joyed as possible, for since he loved Thrasibulus very well, and exceedingly esteemed Leontidas, he hoped for much consolation from them. Yet he could never look upon this jealous Lover without a remembrance of all his jealous passages which he related at Synope, or without calling into his memory at the same time the unjust jealousy of Mandana, so that notwithstanding his joy to see Leontidas, he embraced him with a sigh, yet he gave a sudden check unto all his sad resentments, purposely to express how great satisfaction the victory of Thrasibulus did give him. I assure you (said he unto him after the first compliments, and after he had asked the Envoye from Philoxipeses, how that Prince did) I have made no fewer prayers for the felicity of Thrasibulus, then for my own, and his happiness keeps me from murmuring at the continuation of my own miseries. You have reason Sir (answered Leontidas) to interest yourself in the good fortune of the Prince Thrasibulus; for as his good fortune keeps you from murmuring against the Gods for your miseries: so your miseries keep him from thanking them for his own happiness. But I pray you relate unto me not only all his Victories (said Cyrus unto Leontidas) but also all his and your adventures, and tell me also, how fares all your friends? is Philocles yet cured of his passion, does he love still without being loved again? is Thimocrates still Amorous and absent? and are you yet jealous? All that you ask (replied Leontidas) do questionless deserve answers, except the last which concerns myself: for Sir, it is to no purpose to ask a man who is naturally jealous whether he be jealous still, since certainly he can never be otherwise. This answer of Leontidas did much grieve Cyrus, conceiving that according to it, the jealousy of Mandana would last Eternally; for the excess of his passion would not permit him to distinguish between a jealousy naturally rooted in the heart without cause or reason, and a jealousy which hath some colour and cause, and which by consequenc continues no longer than the cause; yet he concealed the disorder of his thoughts, and moved Leontidas to satisfy his curiosity in letting him know all the passages concerning Thrasibulus, Harpagus, Philocles, Thimocrates, and himself, conceiving it would be a great joy unto him to hear that these lovers, who were so unhappy the last time he saw them, are now in a better condition: also since Leontidas came upon the day of Truce, when Cyrus had no great business in hand, knowing that Sardis was not in any condition of relief, he employed this leisure in hearing of the particulars of both the Victories and amorous adventures of Thrasibulus. But since Leontidas knew that the Envoy from Philoxipeses whose name was Megasides had something to say unto Cyrus from his Master which would be more pleasing unto him, than all he could say, he resolved to satisfy his curiosity in few words. Sir, said he unto him, the Prince Philoxipeses hath sent you such joyful news by Megasides, that lest your soul should be too much surprised at it, I think it is expedient for me to prepare you for the reception of it by relating things of less consequence; yet I must not keep you too long, therefore I will tell you all you desire to know in as few words as possible. Cyrus' hearing Leontidas say so, did believe that what Megasides had to say, related only unto Philoxipeses, and not himself at all; so that though he much esteemed him, yet since he loved Thrasibulus better, he did not interrupt Leontidas, who at first put him in mind of the state wherein things stood concerning the Prince of Milete, when they parted from each other: But Cyrus interrupting him, Ah Leontidas said he, you wrong me much if you think I forget the interests of my friends, no, no, I have not forgot any thing which concerns Thrasibulus or yourself, I very well remember how the people of Milete drove out the wicked Melasia, the ambitious Philodice, the unfortunate Leonce, and the Tyrant Alexidesmas, and that all these abominable wretches retired to the Prince of Phoceus, brother of Philodice, who endeavoured to contract a league with all his neighbour states, and that in the mean time Anthemeus in lieu of calling back his Prince, as the wise Thales advised him, he employed all his endeavours to make the people cry up Liberty, and not to acknowledge their Master. I remember also that the fair Alcionida stayed at Mytelenes whilst the Prince Tysander came to Sardis, and from thence went into Armenia, where you know he died, declaring by his last words, and by a Letter unto Alcionida, and that it was his will Thrasibulus should marry her: And to show you, said Cyrus, that I remember all that concerns my friends, I remember also that the last absence of Thimocrates was caused by a combat which he fought with one of his Rivals, whom he killed, for which he was banished from Delphos for three years. Nor have I forgotten how the unfortunate Philocles, who never was beloved, was absolutely out of all hopes to be so, cause the fair Philista was married, and returned into jalissa. And for your part (said Cyrus, with a smile, which he seconded with a sigh) I remember very well you were jealous of all both above and below your quality; and that when you left Sam●s, after you had fond consulted with the Philosopher Xanthus, you left three of your Rivals with the fair Alcidamia. And after this, I pray judge whether it be necessary to call into memory what I have so well, and so often thought upon. I must confess, Sir, replied Leontidas, I could not think your own misfortunes would have permitted you to remember so exactly the misfortunes of others; but since I see that I am deceived, I will hasten, and tell you that the Prince Thrasibulus, not being able to carry Tisanders' Letter unto Alcionida himself, nor to acquaint her with the death of her husband, and having no mind to urge her unto the accomplishment of that unfortunate Prince's Last Will, as soon as he came into Milete, of which he was not yet Master, he sent Leosthenes to give the Letter of dying Tisander unto Alcionida, giving him also another from himself to that Fair one, which, Sir, I am very sorry I cannot show you as Thrasibulus did unto me: For, Sir, I never in my life met with so well a penned Piece, so moving, so full of Art, Wit, Eloquence, and Judgement: But to hint it a little unto your apprehension, I need say no more, then that when Thrasibulus was not in love with Alcionida, but only the friend of Tisander, it was impossible she could be more tender than she was towards that Illustrious deceased Prince: And that when he was not the friend of Tisander, but only a Lover of Alcionida, she could not be more passionate than she was: He used not one word which was unbecoming: The word Love was not so much as once used throughout the Letter: He did not entreat her to fulfil the Last Will of her Husband, who desired her to marry him. But in ask nothing, he asked all; and never was piece so full of wit and passion, as this admirable Letter. But after Thrasibulus had fully instructed Leosthenes, and dispatched him away to Alcionida and unto the sage Pittacus, Father of Tisander, unto whom he writ also; he consulted with Harpagus, upon the best expedients to compass his designs, and they conceived it best; First, how to become Masters of Milete, before he thought of any revenge of his enemies: Yet the matter was not in their own choice, for the Prince of Phoceus as I told you before, made a league with the Lanthians, the Carians, and the Caunians, so that getting up a considerable Army, he must think of fight and not of going unto Milete, whither Thrasibulus then sent one of his men secretly unto Thales. In short Sir, this Prince did fight him and defeated him. After this Victory, the Prince of Phoceus and Alexidesmus were forced to retreat into their Town: which Thrasibulus the same hour beleaguered with Trenehes, and by that means they had only that side towards the Sea open, from whence they had no hopes of any sudden relief, so that since their crimes put them in mind of punishment, if ever they fell into the hands of Thrasibulus, their plot was to get their persons out of the reach of his revenge. They inspired into the spirits of the Phocean People, so great a horror of strange dominion, that the innocent People were out of all heart: Then they desired a Parle, and at first proposed such advantageous terms, that Harpagus moved Thrasibulus, to forget some of his resentments and hearken unto them: So that all acts of Hostility ceasing on both sides, and they were in treating two days: In the mean time, the Phoceans took hold of this Interim, to tackle up all their Ships, which were not a few: For they were the first of all the Grecians which made any long Sea voyages, and who also found out the way of Tyrrhenea and Tartessa. In conclusion, Sir, in one night all the Phoceans embarked with their Wives and Children, and carried with them all that was of any value, even to the Statues of their Temples. So that the next morning in lieu of Commissioners to Treat, we saw none, neither upon the Walls, or any where else: Insomuch as Thrasibulus triumphed in an empty Town, none remaining in it but a few miserable Slaves. This, Sir, much perplexed Thrasibulus, for it was prejudicial unto him: Who putting a Garrison in Phoceus, he stayed no longer there, but sent to assure Euphranor, who was chief of all the Gnidian Council, that he had no other design but to protect them, and conjured him not to give any Retreat unto the Prince of Phoceus, nor Alexidesmus. But notwithstanding all the fair words of Thrasibulus, he knowing that the Army which he commanded belonged unto a Prince which pretended to subject all Asia, he would not trust him, but endeavoured to cut that Isthmus of land which was between the two Seas, and which only joined the Gnidean Country unto the Continent. But as they digged to make their country an Isle, whether it was so, or whether they imagined it, they thought the stones rebounded against them; so that thinking the Gods were not pleased with their work, they gave it over. Euphranor to oblige them by the same reason which hindered them, sent to consult with the Oracle at Delphos: But the Oracle which formerly returned obscure Answers unto all their Questions, did now answer the Gnideans, That they should not any longer vainly labour to cut this Isthmus, because if Jupiter had intended to make their Country an Island, he could have done it without them, so that this answer being known at Gnide, Euphranor submitted to the will of the Gods; and yielded unto more then▪ Thrasibulus demanded; for he sent some deputies of the country to assure him of the fidelity which he would render unto him. I shall not need to tell you Sir how Thrasibulus used them kindly, for when you know they came from Euphranor, you will imagine it: In the mean while Thrasibulus (after he had sent them away with as much confidence of well usage as they desired) understood that his enemies were retired unto Xanthus, after they had been refused in many other places, and that the multitude of Phoceans were gone to Chio, he turned his Forces towards them, yet first there was a necessity of fight the Carians, who quickly submitted: Mean while Anthemius and Thales negotiated in Milete according to their several designs. But the ends of Thales being more just than the ends of Anthemius, the Gods did favour them, and maugre this Arch-enemy of Thrasibulus, he disposed the people to submit and receive their Legitimate Prince. 'Tis very true the power of your Army's Sir did not a little help him in his establishment, and he commanded me to tell you Sir, that he is a debtor to you for that security which he hopes to enjoy as long as he lives, and that all his Victories are but effects and consequences of yours. But Sir, to complete his good fortune, he received news the next morning, that he had defeated the Xantheans and Licians who were joined together, and had forced Alexidesmus and the Prince of Phoceus to retire, not only into the Town, but into the Castle; for they thought themselves not secure in the Town: but that which is most strange, was, that these miserable enemies, (the image of whose Crimes disturbed their reason and deprived them of all humanity) set fire on that place which was their Sanctuary. It is no wonder if the horror of their wickedness did make them Imagine more mercy in the flames, then from the hands of Thrasibulus: For Melasia had exiled him, had caused him to lose his Dominions, and poisoned his Father; Philodica was a partner in her designs and crimes. The Prince Phoceus to revenge the misfortune of his son, did not scruple to violate all Laws, no more than Alexidesmus, whose Wife doubtless was little culpable, and yet she had a hand in the same design: For Sir, these desperate wretches did not only burn the Town of Xanthus in retiring to the Castle, but seeing Thrasibulus preparing to force it, they burned it and themselves also, and by this means were the executioners of divine revenge, and with their own hands punished those crimes which they had committed. You may well imagine Sir, how much this horrid adventure did surprise Thrasibulus, and all the Army, for such a horrid object was enough to strike terror aswell into the hearers as spectators of it. After this Sir, nothing could resist the power of your Armies, all did acknowledge your Authority, so that Thrasibulus full of glory went unto Milete, where he was received with the greatest acclamations in the world. But since he thought it not enough to be established in his Dominions, unless he were so in the heart of Alcionida, he thought upon nothing but that; his greatest grief was, that he did not know directly what opinion this fair one had of him, for since she had heard of Tysanders' death before Leosthenes came to Mytilenes, he found her ready to embark and return to Gnides unto her Father, when Thrasibulus sent him unto her, so that she received his Letter, but returned no answer but by way of civil Compliment, and would not write, because she thought he should express either too much or too little; Leosthenes only told him at his return, that one could not behold more sadness than appeared in her eyes, though still most fair. Thrasibulus no sooner knew that she was at Gnides) where she arrived presently after the Deputies which had been with him were returned) but he sent Leosthenes unto Euphranor to ask her in Marriage; he sent also at the same time unto the Prince of Mytilene, to entreat him he would move Alcionida to fulfil the last will of dying Tysander, and he writ the second time unto Alcionida in such passionate expressions, as was easy to discern that his thoughts & his words were all one: Since Thrasibulus did me the honour to have a great confidence in me, during this War, he sent me with Leosthenes to assist him in the negotiation of his designs, so that though Leosthenes was sent unto Euphranor, I may say, that I was sent unto Alcionida; I cannot make an exact relation Sir, of all our transactions, which met with no great difficulties in approbation of the Father, but with many in the mind of the Daughter; for if I should, the length of it would defer that satisfaction which you may otherwise receive. But in as concise a manner as I can, let me tell you, that the rare merits of Tisander did not lessen the tender affection she bore unto Thrasibulus, though she lived most lovingly with her husband: Yet for all that, though her husband upon his death, willed her to marry Thrasibulus, yet she had a conceit that it would be more glorious for her not to obey him then to accomplish his Last▪ Will: And this conceit did so command her mind, that she thought herself worthy of blame if she should marry Thrasibulus, though she loved him very dearly. But the Prince of Mytilene having writ unto her, with desires she would fulfil the will of the Prince his Son; and Euphranor absolutely commanding her, she obeyed them without any resistance: And was glad that two who had such power over her, did assure her it was not against her honour. Thus, Sir, since Leosthenes and myself had absolutely power to do it; the marriage of Thrasibulus and Alcionida was concluded, Leosthenes returned to Milete, and I stayed at Gnides until all things were ready for Alcionidas departure: I shall not speak, Sir, of Thrasibulus his joy, nor of her magnificent Reception: But I shall assure you that the fair Alcionida is worthy of his affection; and so much the more, Sir, because she shares with him in that affection which he hath unto your service; since certainly she is so charmed with your Virtue, though she know you only by Fame, and Thrasibulus, that she was full of prayers for your prosperity, as he is, Thus, Sir, you see, in what a happy condition is Thrasibulus: And as if his good fortune did extend unto his friends, when I returned from Milete with Alcionida, I found Thimocrates ready to depart unto Delphos, because he received News that his friends had procured a revocation of his banishment; and that the Father of Telesile having changed his mind, would give his daughter unto him, before all the rest of her Lovers; since Menecrates, who was the most considerable of them all, being repulsed by the rigours of Telesile, had changed his mind: So that this Lover, who resented absence the worst of all miseries, was gone unto his dear Telesile, never to leave her. Philocles also departed from Milete at the same time to jalissa, hearing that the Husband of fair Philista was dead, and would try whether he could find a Widow more mollible than a Maid. For my part, Sir, whom jealousy hath so tormented, I found at my return a Letter from one of my friends at Samos, which might in all probabilities cure me of my Passion, and consequently of my Jealousy; for he writes unto me, that now Alcidamia is not all Fair; he describes her lean and pale, and so altered, that I know not how my Love and Jealousy can subsist any longer, and yet they do. I do not wonder (said Cyrus, and smiled) that your Love should last longer than the Beauty of Alcidamia; for one ought not to measure the length of Love by a Rule which is short, fragile, and mutable, as Beauty is. But my wonder is you should be still jealous; for according to your description of Alcidamia, she is not like to make any more Conquests. 'Tis true, Sir, replied Leontidas, but in telling me this of Alcidamia, they tell me further, that Theanor was never so much in her favour as now: So that since I have heard say, commonly the fairest persons cease to be rigorous when they cease to be fair, I am afraid she will keep that by her favours which she could not by her beauty: So that I am now more jealous than I was when Alcidamia was the fairest in the World. And since, Sir, Alcidamia hath only lost her beauty by losing her health, so that perhaps the next Spring will give her more than she hath lost, but will never restore me her affection which she hath bestowed upon another. But, Sir, since I ought not to be less jealous of your glory then of my Mistress, though in a different manner, give me leave to tell you, that within these few days there will come unto you Deputies from all the Countries which Thrasibulus and Harpagus have conquered. And since the Army which they command hath nothing to do in those places where you are the Master, be pleased to send them such orders as you would have them follow. In the mean time, Sir, I beseech you, let Megasides do the commands of the Prince Philoxipeses, and acquaint you with a business which will rejoice you in your miseries, because it will let you see the end of them. What confidence soever I have in you (replied Cyrus sadly) I can hardly believe what you say: Nor can I tell whether I should credit the Prince Philoxipeses himself, if he were here, and should persuade me I ought to hope for an end of my miseries. I would not have you believe, Sir (said Leontidas) either the Prince Philoxipeses, or Megasides, or myself, but the Gods only, who have given you such a clear assurance of it, that you dare not doubt it when you know it. I understand so little what you mean (replied Cyrus) that I know not what to answer; therefore I conjure you (said he, and applied his speech to Megasides) to tell me what you would have me know, and what it is will so much rejoice me. Sir (replied Megasides, before I satisfy your curiosity, be pleased to remember, that in Cyprus there is the Oracle of Venus Urania, which for matters of Love did never fail in her Answers. After this Sir, give me leave to tell you, that the Princess of Salamis, sister unto the Prince Philoxipeses, in whose fortune hath been many changes, since you were in our Isle; having a mind to consult with the Oracle upon a business on which the wellbeing of her life depended, and having sent unto Delphos, as unto the most famous Oracle of the World, she received an answer, which so surprised her, that she thought it impossible to come to pass, so that seeking for further satisfaction of the answer, she consulted with this of Venus Urania, which told her in express terms, It was not more true that Cyrus was the greatest Prince in the World; and that he should be hereafter as happy as heretofore he had been unfortunate, than what this Oracle of Delphos had told her should come to pass. Ah Megasides, said Cyrus, how should I believe this? for the Gods never use to contradict themselves: however, they did not give me any such answer when I consulted with those by whom they sometimes reveal their secrets unto the sons of men. Megasides, seeing he was not believed, presented unto him a Letter of credence, which the Prince Philoxipeses writ unto him, which he did not present sooner, because Cyrus and Leontidas were so close, he could not without interruption. But after he had given him this Letter, he gave him the Oracle also which the Princess of Salamis received, so that Cyrus not knowing whether he should sooner believe Venus Urania, than the Sibyl with whom he had consulted, or Jupiter-Belus who rendered the favourable answer unto the King of Assyria, his mind was in an anxious perplexity. That which induced him to think he had ill expounded what the Sibyl said unto him, and what was answered the King of Assyria at Babylon, was, to see the Oracle at Delphos assure Croesus, That if he went to War, he should ruin a greaa Empire. Yet he saw that he was in a condition of ruin. But all the hopes of Cyrus could hardly expel fears from his heart, therefore he said unto Megasides, I perceive the Oracle which the Princess of Salamis received, tells her, That it is not more true I shall be happy, then that which the Oracle answers her shall come to pass. But Megasides, the knot of the matter is to know, whether that which the Oracle of Delphos answered her will come to pass; for it is upon that which I must find a foundation for any of those hopes which the Prince Philoxipeses would have me entertain. Sir, replied Megasides, as the Prince who sent me did imagine, that it would be the good fortune of the Princess of Salamis, which would create belief and hopes in you, it hath obtained permission from her, to let you know what all her adventures, which doubtless is so rare, as the relation of it will add much unto your hopes and delight, if you can spare so much leisure to hear it. Though I ought not to interest myself so much in the Fortune of one of the fairest Princesses in the world (answered Cyrus) yet since my own hath a dependency upon hers, I am forced to entreat you to acquaint me with it: and therefore since the Prince Philoxipeses, and the Princess Salamis have given you permission, I beseech you to do me the Favour: but that I may have the better leisure to hear you, and not hinder my cares of the Siege, which is of so great importance, it is requisite I take the time which I use to allow myself for sleep: therefore let it be in the night if you please: and so it was. In the mean time Cyrus appointed Feraulas to have a care of Leontidas and Megasides, and to bring them unto him assoon as he was retired into his Tent, after he had bid goodnight unto all the company. But do what he could, his mind still ran upon what Megasiaes' told him; and he had such impatient desires to know how the Oracle was fulfilled, that he dispatched all orders concerning the Army with as much celerity as possible, to the end he might retire the sooner. Cyrus then was no sooner at liberty, but Feraulas in obedience to his commands brought Leontidas and Megasides unto him, and Megasides began his relation after this manner.  

The History of TIMANTES and PARTHENIA.  
I Beseech you Sir, do not expect I should relate any thing of those wonderful events wherein Mars has a greater influence than Love, or wherein fortune works the greatest alterations, in acquainting you with the Adventures of the Princess of Salamis, whose name is Parthenia: but on the contrary, be pleased to know, that all the accidents in Cyprus cannot be of that nature. Indeed, it may well be said, that Love, who in all other places does often cause tragical events, is contented, when he is angry, to produce only fantastical and capricious effects in our Isle. However, those who find these effects in themselves do think themselves most unfortunate, and complain as much as those whom Fortune, Love and Ambition all at once do torment: After this Sir, I know not whether it be necessary to put you in mind, that Love in our Court is not a simple bare passion as in other places; but a passion of necessity and decency: All men must Love; and all Ladies must be loved: no hard-hearted insensible man ever gets any esteem amongst us, except the Prince Philoxipeses, who yet continued not so long: This obduracy of heart is branded as a crime, and liberty of this kind is such a shame, that those who are not in Love, will at least seem to be so. As for Ladies, custom does not necessarily oblige them to love, but only to suffer themselves to be loved, and all their glory consists in making illustrious conquests; and not to lose their Loves which they have captivated, though they be rigid unto them: For the principal honour of our Beauties is, to return in their obedience those captives which they have made only by the power of their Charms, and not by their Favours: so that by this custom, there is almost an absolute necessity of being a Lover, and unfortunate: yet it is not forbidden Ladies to acknowledge the perseverance of their loves by a pure affection; Venus Urania allows it; But sometimes it is so long before they can win the heart of the person loved, that the pains of the Conqueror does almost equal the pleasure of the conquest: yet it is allowable for beauties to make use of many innocent Arts wherewith to take hearts: Complacency is not a crime: care to seem fair is no affectation, obsequiousness is extremely commendable, so inbe without baseness. Plausibility is a virtue: and to conclude all in short, all that may make themselves amiable, and all that may make themselves to love, is permitted, provided it be not against the laws of modesty and chastity: which manage the Gallantry of our Isle, is the predominate virtue of all Ladies. Thus allowing Fate, Innocency & love, they live most pleasant & merry lives: This Sir I thought requisiteto hint unto your memory, that you may better comprehend what I am to relate. I shall not need to tell you Sir, that Parthenia was borne with a taking beauty; such a one as charms at the first sight, & which seems to augment, every moment one looks on her; for it is impossible you should have been in Cyprus and not know it, though she was at Paphos when you were there: But give me leave to tell you Sir, that her wit sparkles as well as her eyes; and her discourse charms as well as her beauty: Moreover, her mind was none of those narrow ones, who knew one thing, and was ignorant of a thousand: but on the contrary, it was so miraculously large, that though it cannot be said Parthenia knew every thing equally well: yet it is most certain she could give an excellent account of all things: there was also such a delicate sharpness in her wit, that those whom she honoured with her conversation stood in fear of her, and though all her expressions were simple and natural, yet were they full of strong solidity: moreover she could turn her wit as she pleased: she would be serious and wise with those that were so: she would be gallant and pleasant upon necessity: she had a high heart, and sometimes an humour of flattery; None knew the news of the World better than she: she was of a natural timerosity in some things, and bold in others: she was full of heroic Generosity, and Liberality, and to conclude her description; Her soul was naturally tender and passionate: and it may justly be said, that never any did so perfectly know the differences of love, as the Princess Palmis: And I never in my life heard a more pleasing discourse then her, to make a distinction betwixt a pure refined love and a gross terrestrial passion: between a love by inclination, and a love by acquaintance: between a sincere Love and a Counterfeit, between a Love that hath ends in it; and a Love Heroic: For indeed, she would penetrate into the very heart: she would describe jealousy more terribly by her words, than those who Paint it with Serpents, gnawing the heart: she knew all the innocent sweets of Love, and all the Torments, and every thing that had any dependency upon this passion, was so perfectly known unto her, that Venus Urania herself did not know them better than the Princess of Salami●. This Sir is her description of whom I must speak, who was no less loved, than she was lovely. And indeed, whosoever would Catalogue the Prodigious number of her Lovers in his memory, would questionless be astonished, since it is most certain, the fair Parthenia hath Captivated many, above a thousand hearts since she began to appear a Glorious Star in the World: The greatest wonder in Paphos was, that she was never taken away, because the Father of Philoxipeses being Governor of Amathusia, caused all his children to be taken away until they were in a fit condition to appear in Court: So that the Lustre of Parthenia's beauty was not like that of the Sun which we see every day, and unto whose Rays we are accustomed unto: For she appeared upon a sudden at Paphos, all Lustre and Glory, and dazzled all beholders: It may most truly be said, that she dimmed all other beauties, and scorched more hearts in one day, than other beauties could only warm in all their lives. But that which is most observable in the Conquests of Parthenia, when she came first to Paphos, was, that she never made use of her admirable wit, because her beauty was so Prodigiously charming, that those she Captivated, were fettered by her looks, before ever she spoke; so piercing were her eyes, and so inevitable were her Charms. But Sir, as I told you already, that none durst be insensible at Paphos, or at least seem so; you may well conceive Parthenia found not many men at Liberty; and that she could not gain so many hearts without robbing others; and since so, she must needs be loved by inconstant servants, who quitted their first Chains to assume hers: For in the changing of a Mistress, it is no good reason to allege, he found one more fair, and therefore changed: since I am confident that whoever quits one whom once he loved for another more fair than she, doth most certainly quit her for some end or other. Look then upon Parthenia as one that hath many Lovers, and many haters: for it is to be supposed that they who lost those hearts, she found did not love her: And not one of them but did set their wits on work to cavil at her beauty, and find some defect in it; And since they found that not any easy matter, they would at least quarrel with her dress, though it was never so handsome, and devised all manner of Plots to disparage her. In the mean time, Parthenia perceiving their envious aims, took much pleasure in revenge, by Captivating each day their Lovers; not caring for new Enemies, so she could make new Captives, for she was taken of a fit age for it, and wherein it is a difficulty to keep within limits of Conquests and unjust suits and sacrifices unto her beauty: She was infinitley pleased to see such a crowd of Adorers about her, whom she carried in Triumph which way soever she went: But since she did Captivate them only by the lustre of her eyes, and not her wit or tongue, all her Amorites were not equally worthy of her Chains: Some of them dull and gross: others light and fantastical, and some again envious and troublesome: So that finding herself troubled with that which at first she delighted in, she did what she could to restore them unto those from whom she drew them, at least to be rid of them; yet she found this to be no easy matter; and now, it may well be said, her beauty put her to abundance of trouble and vexation: For many Quarrels did arise amongst themselves; But at last, her severity to some, and even incivility to others did rid her of this doting and troublesome multitude: For though the Custom of Cyprus, was for Ladies to suffer themselves to be loved; yet it was not with all sorts indifferently. Thus Parthenia, being delivered from that persecution, which this abundance of Lovers, and her own beauty caused, she retained only three, who being more agreeable to her fancy then the rest, she banished not: These three were not only different in quality, but also in humours: The first was a kinsman unto Timoilea, whom you saw in Cyprus, called Polydamas, whose inclinations were all generous: He was fair, handsome, and well compacted, he had a high and noble Air; his wit was pleasant, but ordinary: And he pleased more by an unexpressible charm which was in all his actions and his Person, then by what he spoke, which took more by the manner than the matter expressed. The second was the Prince of Salamis: infinitely Rich, of great quality, and of a handsome presence, having wit enough, but a little fantastical. And the third was of a mean and base birth, called Callicrates, whose wit was incomparably above the best in all Paphos; and highly esteemed both amongst Men and Women. He writ both in Prose and Verse most admirably, in such a pleasing and unusual way, as may be said, he invented it; at least I am sure, I never saw any for him to imitate, and I think it may be truly said, none will ever imitate him, but imperfectly; For of a very trifle he would compose a pleasant Letter: And as the Phrygians said of Midas, all he touched was Gold; So all that came from Callicrates passed for current: He would make Glass pass for Diamonds, and out of the poorest subject extract excellent matter: His company at some times was wondrous pleasant, but not always alike; for sometimes he would be as i●●rome, as most of the World were always unto him: And he had such an excessive delicacy of wit, that sometimes it might better be phrased Fantastical then delicate: His Person was not very well composed; Yet he made an open profession of Courtship and Gallantry: but it was of an universal Gallantry, since he loved all sorts, of all qualities: Yet had he one most dangerous quality for a lover, which was, that he did as much affect to be thought he was loved, as really to be so. These Sir, were the three assiduous Servants about Parthenia, who yet would not let her heart be engaged unto any one of them; For Polydamas had not wit enough, though will, the Prince of Salamis was fantastical; and Callicrates was of so inferior a quality, that she could not look upon him, only as an admirer of his parts, not as her Lover: So that to make up such a one as she could fancy, was to find one who had the heart and person of Polydamas, the quality of the Prince of Salamis, and the wit of Callicrates: But since this was a thing impossible, she contented herself, to esteem every one of them according to their merits, but to love none of the three. Yet Polydamas, and Callicrates were more in her favour then the Prince of Salamis: For the person of the one did extremely please her, and the wit of the other made h●● merry. In the mean time, all these three Lovers had different designs upon Parthenia: For Polydamis his chief care was to be loved, and unless that, doubtless he would not marry her. On the contrary, the Prince of Salamis, rather than not enjoy her would have married her, though she hated him; and therefore he was as diligent to gain those who had any prevalence with her, as to please her; and Callicrates whose soul was all vanity, his principal care was to carry it so, that the people should suspect Parthenia was in love with him; and I am confident, he would have been better satisfied that all the Court should have believed it, than he would, if she had really loved him and none have known it. Therefore all his actions had some sacred design in them, which Parthenia did not perceive till a long while after. But the strangest humour of Callicrates was, he never so much loved out of his own judgement, as by that of others: And if Parthenia had been fairer than she was: had it not been for the great reputation of her beauty, he had never loved her: For the lightness of his fancy commonly never fixed upon any thing, but such as made greatest noise in the world: Stately houses, Greatness, Pompous Trains, high Quality, and such like, sometimes made him quit the fairest Lady in Cyprus; and therefore it is no wonder, if meeting with Quality, Beauty, Wit, Reputation, Honour, Riches, and all in one person, he should apply himself more to her then any other; and his chief felicity was in persuading all the Court he was in no mean favour with her: Not that the meanness of his birth durst presume to act as Polydamas and the Prince of Salamis did; but he took upon him another kind of familiar air, and he did insensibly allure Parthenia to let him commend her; to speak unto her often in whispers, and sometimes to say aloud in Rallary, that she was a most dangerous person. Since he did not so much care to be loved, as to have it thought he was: He never spoke any thing to her in private which might displease her, lest she should banish him. But he was exceedingly careful to carry it so, that people might perceive he was in love with her: Therefore when at any time he went out from Parthenia with any one whom he thought had wit enough to observe him, he affected to seem melancholy. Sometimes he would not speak; otherwhiles he would speak of nothing but her; and follow almost into all places, affecting to look attentively upon her, when she looked not upon him; yet very carefully watching for an opportunity to make some secret sign unto her, upon some trifle or otherwise which he had trusted her withal, purposely to that end: For his humour was, to peruse one favourable look which might be perceived above any real favour in secret. The strangest humour of Callicrates was, that though he had such fitness of wit, as he could seldom find any that were worthy of any Eulogies, yet he had certain extravagant and fantastical conceits, which sometimes made him love others, which were not at all amiable, unless it was because he would be loved; and according to his own sense, he had the vanity to believe he was: He had such an imperious wit, as he affected always to have some whom he might scorn; and since none such could be found either amongst persons of quality, or persons reasonable, he looked a little lower for some whom he might torment, and be rather their tyrant then their Lover; so that it may rightly be said, never had any so many thoughts in their heart so opposite to one another as his. Moreover, all the world knew, that he was a greater Votary unto Venus Anadiomena the Lascivious, then unto Venus Urania the chaste, and he had such ado to believe there was any such thing in the world as pure affection; yet he was not only allowed of amongst all the Ladies, but also by many of them loved; so that it was not to be wondered that the wisdom of Parthenia should permit him her esteem; and the more, because he was more respective to her then all others, and because he never spoke of any such thing unto her as Love, unless in rallary, and after such a manner as could neither offend her, or make her believe him. In the mean time Polydamas and the Prince of Salamis being of such qualities as they might publish their loves of Parthenia, they courted her by ways very different: For the Prince of Salamis was only very assiduous about her, and Polydamas, who had not wit enough to hold out any serious and long discourse, did express his passion by a thousand diversions, as Balls, Musics, Collations, and Walks; and since he was very amiable, and danced well, all his actions pleased her, and his presence and pleasant humours was enough to infuse joys into the most melancholy souls, so that Parthenia did not hate him, nor had any indisposition to marry him if her Parents would consent. But since there was then some factions in Court, which divided the Great Families: Some reasons of Interest moved those who had the dispose of Parthenia, not to marry her unto Polydamas. On the other side, Callicrates seeing Polydamas in much favour with Parthenia, he moved her to observe the shallowness of his wit, and did it with so much art, as for all her inclination to Polydamas, she began to think she should be blamed if she loved him, or made choice of him, so that checking her own thoughts, Callicrates had the joy to see she began to be a little more cold towards Polydamas, then accustomed. Yet since she had a very strong inclination to him, she could not upon a sudden vanquish herself; and Callicrates stood in need of new wit to hinder her. As he was one day with her, he brought it about so handsomely, that she began so insensibly to speak of Polydamas, and to speak very advantageously of his great courage, of his Liberality and Magnificence. I confess, Madam (said he unto her) that Polydamas merits all the commendations you give him, and if he did but know as well what you deserve, as you do what he deserves, he would be the happiest man upon earth, he would honour you more, and ●e more in love with you then he is. Polydamas (replied Parthenia) is not in love with me; but though he were, I am confident more or less wit does not get more or less love; and there are some dull blockheads more in love, than all your sprightly wits are. Ah Madam (said Callicrates) if I durst but tell you what I think, I should induce you to change your mind. I give you leave (said she unto him) Then, Madam (said he) let me tell you, that poor Polydamas does but love the one half of the fair Parthenia. Dare you swear, Madam, that he understands all you say? Do you not observe that he looks more upon you then he hears you, and that there is no coherency between what you say, and what he answers? For my part (said Parthenia, who was not very glad at what Callicrates told her) I think Polydamas answers as others do; but it is the noble qualities of his soul which is most commendable: since you will not consent with me (replied he) that Polydamas hath a very shallow wit; I will apparently prove unto you that you have ten thousand times more than he hath. You would do me the greatest pleasure in the world, replied she. Truly Madam, said he unto her, I do not believe you. Do you think then, replied she, that I love Polydamas better than I do myself? since I prefer his glory before my own. I do not say so, (said he, and laughed) but I must tell you, I fear it, and think it. But I pray, Madam (said Calliorates, with the same freedom he used to all the world, whilst Polydamas loves one half of the fair Parthenia, let a certain man whom I know love the other. Yet, Madam, when I say Polydamas loves the one half of Parthenia, I say not truly; for certainly he loves not half her beauty, though he see it every day. I think indeed he knows that it is great, that she is of a good stature, that she hath fair eyes, that her neck is whiter than snow, that her complexion is admirable, her hair fair, her mouth lovely and all excellent; but as for that charming air, which is an ornament to all these, he knows it not at all. I am confident that though you please him infinitely, he knows not why you please him. There are such pretty, I know not what's, in your face as infinitely transcends his sphere of knowledge. He understands not the language of your eyes; your sighs which are so subtle and eloquent, and which sometimes makes known the sweetness or bitterness of your heart, do not produce the same effects in his heart which they do in others; and to express my very thoughts in one word: I am confident, that he who can be so happy, as to obtain so much favour from Parthenia as to love all in her, that Polydamas knows not; will have a better half than he. Callicrates spoke all this with so much audacity, that Parthenia had a mind to be angry, but she had no time; For the Prince of Salamis coming in, Callicrates retired with as much seriousness in her looks, as if he had been all day talking upon nothing but Politics, or Moral Philosophy. In the mean time, since Parthenia did very much esteem him, she was very sorry she had such an inclination to love a man whom he esteemed not: For since she did not suspect that Callicrates was in love with her, his words had a great influence upon her heart: Yet she was not absolutely resolved to banish Polydamas at that time, as afterwards through the malice of Callicrates she was, and thus it came about. Parthenia being one day ill, she kept her Chamber, and by consequence, was visited by very many, amongst the rest, Polydamas and Callicrates, who being that day in one of his dumpish moods, which every one did chide him for; did sit in a corner of Parthenia's Chamber, seeming not to understand what any said. In the mean time, Polydamas not thinking that Callicrates was so silent, to the end he might hear the better, began to talk, as he used, to wit, with little coherence, less eloquence, and least wit; yet with acceptation, because his Person was very amiable? And as an amorous man is apt to speak more unto her he loves then any other; So Polydamas to Parthenia: On the other side, Callicrates, having a close design, and an admirable memory, not regarding what any of the rest said, hearkened very attentively unto all Parthenia and Polydamas said to each other: as he listened well, so he remembered better, since certain●y he remembered word for word, all that passed between them: So that the conversation ending without a word unto any, and in all haste went home; when as soon as he was come, he writ dialoguewise all that he heard Polydamas and Parthenia say, putting their names to each Paragraph, without any alteration. So that Parthenia speaking always as well as any in the World, and Polydamas the worst; the words of Polydamas wanting the grace of accent wherewith they were pronounced: and the words of Parthenia gracing themselves, this Dialogue was very delightful to read: For beside the difference in their answers, the discourse made most pitiful gibberish, as if it were a continued discourse: But though Polydamas was not to be blamed or upbraided with this; yet Callicrates made use of it to serve his malice: Who to lose no time, went next morning betimes to Parthenia, whom he found alone: As soon as he was entered, the Princess remembering his silent dumps the day before, began to chide him, and to ask him whether he was yet in the humour of speaking: No Madam (said he to her) but on the contrary, I am come hither this day to tell you what I thought yesterday: You seemed so melancholy yesterday, answered she, that I do not think it will be any delighting matter, unless you were in the humour of composing Verses: For I have heard say, those who compose them, are as much separated from themselves, as you were yesterday from the company whilst you were in it. I assure you Madam, said he, I had no conference with the Muses, yet I was in the merry vain of writing something as pleasant; But 'tis in Prose, not Verse: since I know you are as good at the one as the other, replied she, I much desire to see it, and therefore since you came hither this day to tell me what you thought yesterday, I pray show them: I swear Madam, said he unto her, though I came with that intent, yet I know not whether I should show you what I writ: No no, Callicrates, (said Parthenia, and suspected nothing) never pump for any excuses or denials, for I will see them: Then promise me Madam, (said he unto her) to do me so much honour, as to tell me sincerely who you find ill in them; and observe unto me all the faults. I profess Callicrates, (answered she) this is a most admirable good one, that you should think I can correct any thing you write: But to take all colour of excuses from you, I promise you to tell what I think of them, that is as much as to say, I will promise you to commend them and you both. I assure you Madam, (said he unto her) you will be very indulgent, if you commend all I have writ: but to be sincere, let me tell you that there are some things in what I shall let you see, which are not unworthy of yourself: And let me also assure you, there are other things, which are not so much as worthy of myself, and which cannot please you, unless you be strangely prejudicated: You do not use such inequalities in what you write (replied Parthenia) and I am confident you would not satisfy my desire in seeing if they were so: You shall yourself be judge (said he unto her, and gave her the Paper writ word for word, all the discourse of Polydamas and Parthenia) But how comes it to pass (said she in taking it) that you put me to read what you have writ? The reason is, (replied he) because I shall be more delighted to hear you read them then myself, and I am confident you understand them better. Callicrates being accustomed to vent a hundred witty tricks, Parthenia upon a sudden suspected one: But however she had rather expose herself to be deluded, than not satisfy her Curiosity, and therefore she opened the Paper, and first found this Title. 
 The answers of POLYDAMAS and PARTHENIA, and of PARTHENIA and POLYDAMAS. 
  
She had no sooner read this, but she began to laugh; yet not with a blush, (and looking upon him) as being more desirous to read in his face then in the Paper what he meant by this piece of knavery: Yet did she not imagine the truth; for she thought he would have informed Polydamas and herself of something: But in reading on, she found her own very words, as well as those of Polydamas; and indeed all their discourse verbatim. Then had she various apprehensions, for at first she thought it a pleasant Piece of work, but immediately after, she could not choose but be angry at Callicrates, at Polydamas, and herself: at Callicrates for his knavery, at Polydamas for his little wit, and at herself for her weakness. Yet out of honour, she concealed her thoughts as well as she could, thinking it much better to hear his rallary, then show her resentment; and to that end, she read the Paper from one end to the other, and was so extremely ashamed, that her heart should ever have any disposition to love him who spoke so, that she absolutely resolved to Cashier Polydamas out of her Soul. All this while Callicrates looked attentively upon her: So that as soon as Parthenia had done reading, well Madam (said he unto her) do you not confess there are many things in that ●ou see, which deserve your Censure? I confess, replied Parthenia, that you have as much knavery as wit: and I had need be as good unto you as I am, not to hate you extremely for this trick which you have put upon me: Madam (said he unto her) you are not so good as your word, for you promised to correct all my faults in what you read. You are so far from wise (said she unto him and smiled) that I should be as foolish as you are, 〈◊〉 I should take the pains to answer you seriously: However Madam (said he unto her) certainly you will confess, that yesterday you did not think that Polydamas spoke so ill as you do to day: I assure you (said she) I did not ●eed the answers of Polydamas, but my own, and I am beholding to you for nothing but for undeceiving me of the over good opinion I had of myself; for I thought I had spoke better than I did. Ah Madam (said he, and would have taken the paper from her) certainly you did not read them so well as you spoke them: I beseech you give me leave to read your words; yet Callicrates could not get the paper out of Parthenia's hands, who kept them whether he would or no; perhaps if you desire to see what was writ in this paper, that you might see the difference between the wi●t of Polydamas, and Parthenia: But Sir that a sister which I have, who waits upon this Princess did tell them unto me, yet I cannot remember them; yet certainly nothing could be more different from another then the answers of Parthenia and Polydamas. In the mean time this conference of Callicrates and Parthenia, which began in raillery, did end in a more serious discourse: for passing insensibly from one thing to another, Callicrates moved Parthenia to confess she could not but wonder Polydamas should be so Amiable and have so little Witt. For Heaven's sake Madam (said he unto her) do me the favour the first time you see him and are in discontent with him, turn away your head and wink, that you may hear him and not see him: and if after that you do not confess you have no cause to love him, I will for ever forsake those hopes I have that you will never hate me: for really Madam; there cannot be a greater difference between any two, then between the Princess Parthenia and Polydamas. Therefore Madam take my advice, profane not those excellencies which the Gods have given you, by giving yourself to one who cannot half understand them; but find one out that is able to know and adore you. This Sir was the conference between Parthenia and Callicrates, who left her with much satisfaction, that he had so well prospered in his design: and indeed, ever since that day, Parthenia was Mistress of herself, and disengaged her heart, able to look upon Polydamas as a lover, whom she would condemn unto despair, which was no small joy unto Callicrates, who as of● as he met Polydamas, did treat him most cruelly, and abuse him in the presence of Parthenia; yet in such a manner, as Polydamas did not perceive it, because it was by applauding him for things which were not at all commendable, and in admiring all he said, and making an Elegy upon every word he spoke: and he had been more gross in his abuses, if the Princess: had not imposed silence, and forbidden him to use him so. In the mean time the Prince of Salamis continued to see and serve her, though he made no great progress into her affection; and observing that Callicrates was much in her favour, but had not the least thought of his being in love, though it was already noised in the world, he endeavoured to oblige him, and made him the confident of his design; but Callicrates having no mind to turn solicitor for another in matter of love, told him, that he could do nothing for him, and that Parthenia was one who would take advice from none but herself: But since he perceived that Polydamas was not yet enough out of Parthenia's Books, he hinted such things unto the Prince of Salamis, as moved him to apprehend, that as long as Polydamas was a visitor of Parthenia, none ought to be pretender unto her: yet he told this as a mighty secret, for his design being to make the world believe Parthenia loved him, he would not publish that she had any inclination to Polydamas. But he told him all that he could devise which might move the Prince of Salamis to hate his Rival, and to make him quarrel with him, hoping thereby to be quit of two Rivals at once, either by killing each other, or by banishing them for fight: and indeed his plot did hit, and that which did advance it, was, the Prince of Salamis being one day in Parthenia's closet, she went out for something, and left this Prince with others in it, and the company coming out presently after, left him in the Closet expecting Parthenia's return, so that looking upon divers things which lay upon the Table, he found a paper which the Princess had left and forgotten, and it proved to be that which Callicrates writ, with the answers of Polydamas and Parthenia; for the Princess would not burn it, because she kept it to cure her spirits in reading of them: so that the Prince of Salamis seeing the name of Polydamas and Parthenia, took up the Paper, and would see the contents of it; yet seeing there was much to read, and fearing the Princess would return before he had finished, and being transported with a curiosity as great as his love, he took it and went away before the Princess returned into her closet: but he was strangely amazed when he saw it, for it passed all men's understanding, nor he could not think that Parthenia, who had so much wit could think well of all that Polydamas had said, nor could he imagine it writ by Callicrates with her consent, though he knew it to be his hand; nor could he believe, considering his suspicions, that Parthenia loved Polydamas, that she should take any delight to see Callicrates full of such raillery against him, so that not knowing what to think, he resolved to make him who writ this fantastical Dialogue, tell the truth: he sent then to seek Callicrates, and rather than fail of finding him; went himself to look him: but since this man, maugre his vanity he had in being thought to be Parthenia's Idol, and her lover, had many other passions less honourable than that, the Prince of Salamis could not easily find him, though he went unto twenty several houses to inquire: but at last, accidentally seeing him come out of a house which he never thought of, he sent for him, and conjured him to tell him what was his design in writing those answers of Polydamas, and giving them unto Parthenia. Sir (said he with an answer as quick as his wit) I wonder much you should not understand my design, and that you should not see I have no other but to do you service, in letting fair Parthenia see the odds that is between her wit and your Rivals. Ah Callicrates, said the Prince of Salamis, why would you keep secret my obligations unto you? and why did you not let me know Parthenia suffered you to abuse Polydamas? As she hath much wit, replied Callicrates, what resentment soever she hath, she makes no expressions of them; However it be, said the Prince of Salamis, all will do no good, since after this I see Polydainas in as great favour as ever. Callicrates perceiving that this Prince was not jealous of him, he kindled it against Polydamas by a hundred cunning expressions, so that when he left him, he left him more jealous than ever, but with more hope of revenge also against his rival, imagining that since Parthenia out of her prudence had winked at Callicrates his jeering raillery, she would be also discreet as to hide her resentments at his quarrelling with him. The Prince of Salamis having this Fancy, it was not long before he put his design in execution; for as there never wants a colour of a quarrel between two Rivals: The first occasion that he met with, he began to contradict all that Polydamas said very obstinately, and passing from contradictions unto angry disputes, they fell from words to blows, and fought a Bloody duel. For the Prince of Salamis, having a secret design upon him, stayed for Polydamas in a great plain, which is before Parthenia's Palace, so that this Princess was a spectator of the Combat out at her Window, which was endedbefore they could come in to part them. Which of these two had the advantage could not be judged, for they were both of them equally wounded, and their swords both broke when they closed, and fell; doing both of them what they could to vanquish each other; this combat made a great noise in the Court, butas for Callicrates, he laughed in his sleeve: yet hewent presently to the Priuceffe to grieve with her, or rather to see how she took it: but she thought him to be her friend, she did not dissemble how this combat had a great influence upon her heart; which news was nothing pleasing unto Callicrates: for she let him know, that she hated the prince of Salamis, and that she loved Polydamas better than before, taking it very ill at the hands of the first, that he should be so bold as to quarrel with the other in any consideration of hers; not being ignorant, that it was he who first assaulted, and knowing that there could be no other fall out between them but for her interests. Truth is Madam (said Callicrates to her) you have reason to be angry with the Prince of Salamis, and it is but just to hate him for his so little respect of you: But I cannot find you have any cause to love Polydamas better, since he hath done nothing, but that he would not let himself be killed: for I cannot believe Madam, you should think he had any other end in defending his life, but to keep it for the love of you; and were I to judge upon the actions of these two Rivals, I should think you are more of the two obliged unto the Prince of Salamis, then unto Polydamas, who for all this, hath no more wit than he had; for I protest Madam, I am confident, that if he were himself to relate his Combat with such Eloquence as he hath, you would wish the Prince of Salamis Victory. I assure you Callicrates (said she unto him) I have much ado not to be offended at you, for scoffing at a thing which both grieves and angers me: And the the truth is Sir, though Parthenia had not contracted any affection with Polydamas, yet she could not choose but be very sensible of his misfortune, and the more, because falling in a fever he died of his wounds, the sixth day after the combat, so that Callicrates needing not now to oppose that affection which he feared was in her heart towards him, he began to pity him in her presence, saying, that the high qualities of his soul, and the handsomeness of his person, did serve to excuse the imperfections of his wit, desiring if it were possible, that her sorrows for his death, might keep her from any affection to the Prince of Salamis, and moved him to go out of Paphos until all things were appeased: but when Callicrates was out of Parthenia's presence, he scoffed as much at Polydamas dead as living; and said that all the Court was beholding unto the Prince of Salamis for ridding it of a man who spoke so much nonsense. In the mean, to satisfy his vanity, whilst there was no professed Lovers of Parthenia, he was an eternal visitant, and saw her every minute she was visible; and when she was not, he affected to speak of her, and oftentimes to name her in lieu of another: So that he called every one Parthenia, seeming always to reprehend himself, and be angry that his tongue should so betray the thoughts of his heart. In short, he carried it so, that all the Court suspected him to be in love with Parthenia, none yet daring to speak of it unto the Princess: For certainly (said every one) she must needs perceive that which all the world sees; and if she does see it, why does it not displease her, and move her to banish Callicrates from her? So they thought Callicrates in love with Parthenia, but never told their thoughts unto her, who never suspected any such thing, since he never talked unto her but of things indifferent, and of small consequence. As for him, since he affected more the satisfaction of his vanity then his love, fear of banishment would never let him tell her seriously that he loved her, to the end there might be more suspicion that he was loved. In the mean time the Prince of Salamis having settled his business, and the Physicians reporting that Polidamas died rather of the ill disposition of his humours then of his wounds, he returned unto the Court as soon as he was recovered; and he knew so well how to tamper with all the Parents of Parthenia, that his Marriage was concluded upon before ever he spoke unto her. I shall not relate unto you, Sir, what unwillingness was in Parthenia to obey the commands of her Parents, in looking upon the Prince of Salamis as the man whom she was to marry; nor how Callicrates did augment her aversion to it: But give me leave to tell you, Sir, there was no remedy, Parthenia must marry the Prince of Salamis, and Callicrates must be contented: His comfort was, Parthenia loved him not, and in his hopes she would make him her secret Confident. Also his hopes were, that all the world knowing Parthenia loved not her Husband, it would be more easy for him to make them believe, she loved him. Yet what vanity soever he had, and what ill opinion soever he held of women in general, I am confident he could never think Parthenia, whose virtue he knew very well, could have any vicious thoughts in all her life, though she had a sensible and passionate soul. In conclusion, Sir, the Prince of Salamis married Parthenia much against her will, and he expressed so much love unto her at their Marriage, that she sweetened her bitterness, and diminished her aversion to him. He gave her, in case he died before, the Principality of Salamis, being more submiss unto her then ever any was. But, Sir, as I have before described the beauty of this Princess unto you, so, is it possible you should believe that the eyes of this Prince being accustomed unto the beauty of Parthenia, should take less delight in looking upon her, then in a fresh beauty, which was a thousand degrees inferior unto hers? Yet it is true, that this Prince loving her only because she was fair, and his eyes being glutted with the custom of seeing her, his passion lessened, and his soul insensibly fell off from lukewarm to indifferency, and from indifferency to scorn: For since he was of a fantastical spirit, the humours of Parthenia and his kept no correspondency. I leave you, Sir, to imagine, how sad this Princess was when she found herself slighted: Indeed it troubled her so much, that she fell sick, but in such a languishing disease, as though it did not much hazard her life, yet it robbed her of her beauty. And you may imagine, Sir, that he who scorned her when she was the fairest in all Cyprus, did not love in the Autumn of her beauty, but began to be harsher than before unto her: He had twenty several Paramours, who for all their glittering beauties were yet inferior unto Parthenia, notwithstanding her decayed alteration. The mutable mind of this Prince did so amaze the World, that none could imagine the secret cause of the ill correspondence between Parthenia and him; and every one had his censure for him: In so much as he having a hint of it, grew angry, and began to speak aloud, that he could not conceive why they should think it strange he could not love his Wife, since according to his sense, it was neither handsome nor reasonable: For (said he unto me, when I asked him what answer I should return unto those who wondered why he loved not Parthenia, who was yet the fairest in Cyprus?) I think there is no such extravagancy in the world, as for a Husband to be always in love with his Wife; and if Parthenia would have kept me still in love with her, she should never have married me. I confess, Sir, (said I unto him) there ought to be a difference between a Husband and a Lover; and I agree with you, that there are a hundred gallantries which are ornaments in a Lover, that would be ridiculous in a Husband. But, Sir, by your favour, this difference ought not to reach so far as the heart; certainly one ought to love and honour her he marries as much after, as before marriage: Civility and Respect must not be banished, but preserved as preservers of Love; lest incivill familiarity should entirely root it out. Alas, Megasides, said he, it seems you were never married, nor very well know the nature of Love. Truly, Sir, said I unto him, I think you do not know it yourself; for if you did, why do you not love Parthenia, since she is as fair now, as when you were in love with her? The reason is, said he, because, that beauty which one enjoys is like perfumes, which continual custom brings one not to smell at all. And for my part, I am persuaded, that as one doth accustom himself unto a beauty, one may likewise accustom himself unto ugliness; so consequently whosoever will marry, ought not to be so curious in choosing one that is fair. Then Sir, said I unto him, why did you marry Parthenia? I married her, said he, because Love led me out of my wits; and I chose rather to run the hazard of being her Lover, than not to enjoy her. The truth is, there is something in Marriage, which is so inconsistent with Love, that I cannot endure people should blame me for not loving Parthenia. I cannot conceive, replied I, you can love other women, who are a thousand times less fair than she. Were you married, answered he, you would know how, as well as I: The truth is, whosoever takes away the sweetness of Novelty from Love, takes away Love itself; and whosoever doth banish fresh desires, and fresh hopes from it, leaves no zeal or delight in it. Consider what the passion of a man will be, who always sees the same woman; who has no new hopes, no fresh desires, and who sees nothing in the time to come, but that his Wife will grow old and ugly. But, Sir, said I unto him, though you are not capable of a constant love, yet let me advise you at least to esteem Parthenia; let your love become friendship. Had I never been in love with her, replied he, or had I married her for no other interests, I could have done as you advise me. But, Megasides, to fall from love to friendship, is a thing I cannot think possible, nor am I capable of it. Indeed I am sometimes ashamed to see how weary I grow when I have been with her one poor quarter of an hour. Yet since I cannot love her, she must suit her mind to her fortune, and let me alone to live as I list. These, Sir, were the thoughts of this Prince when he began to leave loving Parthenia; but he was not the only man who changed his thoughts of her; for Callicrates also finding that she was not now the glorious Star of the Court, he fell off from his frequent visits; all the Beauties whom she had robbed of their Lovers at her first arrival in Paphos, were ravished at her misfortune; and all her Lovers whom she had rigorously treated, rejoiced: Insomuch as Parthenia, seeing she had lost all that her beauty had gotten, had such an indignation against herself, that she left the Court, and went unto Salamis, where she lived most obscure and solitarily; but where she found a hundred things to charm her sorrows, and solitude afforded her much sweetness, since the cause of her grief was out of sight; and as she saw nothing which pleased her, so she saw nothing which vexed her; and the absence of her husband, and all those that forsook her with her beauty, made her mind very serene; so that using herself by degrees unto a kind of melancholy which seizeth upon a soul and never troubles it, she grew wondrous well contented, and recovered her beauty. This being the state of things, so it chanced, that the Prince of Salamis died suddenly at Paphos, in his return from hunting: And the King made choice of Callicrates, as him that was the ancient friend of Parthenia, to carry the news of his death unto her. I am confident, Sir, you will imagine that it was impossible this Princess should grieve violently for the death of her husband who had so scorned her; yet was she much more moved at it, then in all possibility she would: For when Callicrates acquainted her with his death, she shed tears, but not in so great abundance. But Callicrates could discern her eyes had recovered their first lustre; and he found her so admirably fair, that in lieu of telling her what he had premeditated, he stood and gazed upon her, only telling her that her husband was dead: Yet he could not see her long that day; for she retired, and sat upon herbed, purposely to receive the visits which she foresaw would be made: And indeed about two hours after the news was known, all of any quality in Salamis came unto her. In the mean time, she sent back Callicrates the next morning, though he had no desire to go so soon; but when he was returned, his report of Parthenia's beauty was so high, that all the Court talked on nothing else but this wonderful alteration. I shall not spend any time, Sir, in telling you how the Corpse of the Prince of Salamis was carried to the place of his name; but give me leave to tell you, Sir, that as soon as all ceremonious mournings were over, Parthenia made a voyage to the Court upon a business which concerned the Principality of Salamis; also that perhaps she was not sorry that she was as fair as ever; for Parthenia was not above eighteen years of age: However she returned unto Paphos, where she dimmed all that could pretend to any beauty, and captivated no fewer hearts than she did at first; but hers was more difficult to be caught then ever, and she was so resolutely determined not to receive the affections of any, that she did not think herself so much as obliged unto any that proffered theirs unto her. And as Callicrates one day chid her for this cold indifferency; and telling her that solitude had made her savage and unsociable, she stiffly maintained, that she had no reason to think herself beholding unto those who loved her, because her beauty pleased them: For the truth is, said she, I am resolved not to expose myself unto the same misfortune I have had: and as long as I believe, that they do not love me, but because I please their eyes; and for a fading thing which a little sickness may take from me, I cannot much build upon such kind of affections. But Madam, replied Callicrates, if you take beauty away from love, you may as well take away his arrows and bow, and quite disarm him. I would not take beauty away, replied she, but on the contrary, I would have such use made of it as of a Candle: do you not see, that when fire is put unto a faggot, it burns, though the Candle which lighted it be taken away? or extinguished? So would I have beauty do, which sets hearts on fire: but I would not have them extinguish, when it which set them on fire is extinguished: Your smile Madam, replied Callicrates, is full of wit: Yet certainly, the fire which lasts long, must have something to maintain it: 'tis true, said she, but it must not be beauty, for that is only to kindle the fire, not to preserve it: It would be a rare World, if love should always change as oft as the face of those they love doth: if so, a Rheum would kill a thousand lovers: and a gentle fever would break a thousand Chains, and set as many Slaves at liberty: No, no, things must not be so; and whosoever loves only the beauty of Parthenia, shall never get her love: I would have them love all Parthenia, and not by halves as you told me when Polydamas lived; I would have them love her for something besides her beauty, that they may not fall off when it fades: did not you do so Callicrates before I went to Salamis? 'tis true Madam, I did; answered he, but it was because I could not endure to see you miserable: Fie, fie, replied she, you cannot make me believe that: but I am persuaded you left me, either because I had fewer Company, or because my friendship was less considerable: But know, said she and smiled, that I never loved Callicrates, but for the wit of Callicrates, I liked his f 〈…〉 Letters and his smooth verses, and his pleasant conceits: otherwise what did I care 〈◊〉 he were happy or miserrable? Also I thought 〈◊〉 days in which you showed m 〈…〉 one of my letters (said she in such a manner as might let him see she was not ignorant of his proceedings) or verses, or on which you were not pleasant, to be ill spent in your company, and but for them, I should very near have hated you, for I cannot endure 〈…〉 constancy, either in friends ot lovers; but it is most of all odious in friends; since so, Madam said he, I beseech you do me the honour, to rank me amongst your Lovers that I may be less criminal. Since I cannot revoke what's past (said she, and smiled) I cannot though I would make you 〈…〉 o'er or less innocent than you are, but in justifying you on the one side, I shall condemn you on the other; therefore it is much better I look upon you as an unfaithful friend, then as an unconstant lover, since which way soever you shall become the last of these, you will be always criminal, and always ill treated. However I should be glad Madam, said he unto her, that you 〈…〉 uld do me the honour I ask, for I must confess, I cannot endure to be dishonoured, and called an unfaithful friend, since in being one, I should have renounced all virtue and generosity: but it is otherwise in being only an inconstant Lover, for such a one is only accused of lightness and weakness: Yet I think folly may be added unto them (replied she.) Since that is a thing which is not dishonourable, replied he, it shall be no great obstacle unto me; and I had rather you should think me foolish and out of reason, then think me culpable. Though Callicrates was formerly wont to speak many times as boldly as thus, without any suspicion of speaking seriously; yet now Parthenia took it ill he should speak thus, for he spoke it with such an Air, so bold as displeased her: So that both she and Callicrates stood a long while silent, and Parthenia had no mind to begin discourse, for she observed that Callicrates was not sorry for her anger: but this silence lasted not long, for company came in; and Callicrates went out, very glad Parthenia understood him: Yet he resolved to appease her at what rate soever, though it cost him a hundred oaths that he did not love her, and that he spoke as he did only to put her into a quarter of an hour's impatience. However Sir, there was such a Fatality in the beauty of Parthenia, as brought upon her a hundred miseries, either by those who loved her, or by those who envied her, or by Callicrates. There was also a man of very high account who loved her, but not long; and she was so assaulted by all the Court, and all the World, that she was not able to endure it; and so much the less because the Prince Philoxipeses returning from War, Courted her in marriage, for a friend of his; so that to deliver herself from so many importunities at once, she returned to her solitude. She had no fancy to Salamis, but to the Country; and since I had a Sister whose name was Amaxita, whom she loved very tenderly, she entreated her to go with her unto her accustomed desert, which she willingly consented unto. In the mean time, since Parthenia had ever a passionate Soul, she was something perplexed to see that she could meet with none whom she could love: Also the custom of Cyprus requiring that all Ladies should be loved, she was something vexed that all those Ladies, who were her Enemies, because she was fair, should Triumph in her absence. But that which most vexed her, was a piece of knavery which Callicrates played her. I think Sir, I told you not that since their last conference which ended in silence, he never spoke in private with Parthenia, who always took occasions to prevent him, and who treated him so coldly, that if he had not found out a way to make this coldness serve his Vanity; he would have died with sorrow: But since this happened a little before the departure of Parthenia, he made every one believe, but did not say it directly, that this coldness of hers to him was but dissembled; and the more to confirm this belief after the Princess of Salamis was gone, he writ unto her very often; yet writing nothing that could possibly displease: Moreover he sent her a hundred pretty knacks, and sent them so handsomely, that it had been hard for her to refuse such diversions as were but necessary in that solitude wherein she lived: So that to make it last the longer, she resolved to answer. But though her letters were only Jollities, and of things very indifferent, and written with design that he should show them; yet he did not show one of them. So that every one knowing Parthenia writ unto him, and seeing that he made a mysterious secret of her letters; the Enemies of this Princess endeavoured to make it thought that the Correspondency which she held with Callicrates was more than matters of wit only. But the further to satisfy his vanity, he dissembled an intended journey, and gave out such unlikely pretences of it, as made every one full of Curiosity: And to make it more general, he bad adieu to all the Court: After which, he departed without any with him, and in the Evening, saying that it was hot, and therefore best travelling in the night; Moreover, since he made no question but some would have very observant eyes upon all his actions, as soon as he was out of the Town, he took the way which leads where the Princess of Salamis was, and went within fifty furlongs of the house; they turning upon the left hand, he went to hide himself with a friend he had thereabouts, not telling the true cause; and there he stayed fifteen whole days: After which, he returned to Paphos, where those who watched him, had published that he was gone to the Princess of Salamis: So that when he returned to the Court, every one asked him why he would conceal the place where he had been: But the more to make it believed, he seemed to be in a mighty chafe against them that said so: The business made so great a noise all over, that I writ unto my Sister, purposely that she might let Parthenia know it, who made no question, but that this was some knavery of Callicrates; So that this did more and more confirm her in her aversion which she had to the World. In the mean time, Parthenia did so clearly make it known at Paphos that he was not with her, as none did doubt it; but yet they could not accuse Callicrates of this imposture, because he always said he was not with the Princess of Salamis. However Parthenia broke off all manner of commerce with him: But as if the Gods would have death Triumph over all those whom the eyes of Parthenia had vanquished, Callicrates, a little while after this imposture, died, extremely lamented by all those that knew him, and even by those also whom he had most cruelly deluded: for his excellency of wit, and other rare qualities, excused the malignant vanity of his Soul. The fair Parthenia amongst the rest lamented him: notwithstanding all Causes of complaint which he had given her: Now was the time Sir, when the Prince Philoxipeses, fell in love with Policrite: So that being busy with his own Passion, he let the Princess of Salamis live as she pleased: Yet would he sometime invite her to quit her Solitude; but this was not often: Yet since he was married, he began to importune Parthenia to return unto her friends, and not to pass away the rest of her days as she did. But all his pressures were in vain: For she told him, that her resolution was to submit the conduct of her life unto the Gods: and in order to that she had sent unto Delphos to consult with the Oracle, and to inquire what she should do to be happy, expecting the answer with much impatience; yet when it came, she was not much satisfied with it: For the Oracle answered her in these words; That if she would be happy, she must marry a man who loved her without the helps of her beauty: and that on the contrary, if she married any one of those whom her eyes had Captivated, she should be the most unfortunate woman of her time. I leave you to imagine Sir how much this answer perplexed Parthenia, for to imagine that any one could love her and not see her, she could not comprehend it possible: To think also one should see her, and not think her fair, and in seeing her, separate her spirit from her body, and adore the one, without loving the other, this was as far fetched a conceit as the other: So that she concluded it to be the will of the Gods not to love any but that she should still live in solitude: For, said she, since the Gods do tell me, that if I marry any one of those whom my eyes have captivated, I shall be the most unfortunate woman of my time: they do tacitly tell me, I must never marry. But though you should take this resolution, (said the Prince Philoxipeses who loved her exceedingly) is it therefore necessary that you should banish yourself from all civil Society? Certainly I should (said she unto him) for why should I expose myself unto the assaults of any that will profess service, and perhaps persuade me to slight the counsel of the Gods? For my part, replied Philoxipeses, I do not think we understand this Oracle as it ought to be, for the Oracle of Delphos would never counsel you unto a thing so opposite unto the Laws of the Goddess whom we adore, who would have us love and beloved: for my part, if I thought it, I should advise you to supplicate this Goddess, for a resolution of this doubt which I think is well raised. The opinion of Philoxipeses seemed so reasonable unto Parthenia, that she went herself into the Temple which is upon the farthest part of the Isle towards the East, to consult with the Oracle of Venus Urania; The Princess Policrite carried her thither, and I had the honour to go with her, and to be present, when she asked, whether she ought to understand the Oracle of Delphos as she did? But Sir, she was extremely surprised, and so was all the company, when the Oracle answered her, That it was not more true that you were the greatest Prince in the world, and that you should be hereafter as happy as heretofore unfortunate, than it was true that this which the Oracle of Delphos said should come to pass. The Prince Phioxipes Sir, was beyond expressions joyed, to see that you were so highly in favour with the Gods, as that their Oracles should Trumpet your praises over all the earth: and it may be truly said, that never since the time of Lycurgus, who heretofore received the like honour from Delphos, did the like happen till now. The Prince Philoxipeses than was much comforted by it, for the slender satisfaction which the Princess of Salamis received from this Oracle: for indeed she could make no other construction of that from Delphos, and this Oracle, but that the Gods would have her pass away her life, unseen of any, and unloved, which is a kind of shame and malediction in our Isle. But Sir, that which the Prince Philoxipeses most rejoiced at, was to see the Gods not only truly to commend you, but also to promise a period to your misfortunes, so that he no sooner carried the Princess of Salamis into her solitude, but he embarked one of his Servants to bring you this pleasing news: yet by misfortune the Vessel in which that man embarked suffered Shipwreck, and the man perished; the Prince Philoxipeses not hearing any thing of it until a long time after, so that he could no sooner let you know the glorious testimony that the Gods did render unto your virtue, and I am confidently persuaded that it was the pleasure of the Gods, you should not know this Oracle until that which concerned the Princess of Salamis was found to prove true; so that there might be more ground for your hopes and belief of what they said concerning you. Give me leave to tell you Sir, that since this Princess received the last answer from Venus Vraia, she looked upon her Cell, as the place where she was to live and die, and took as much pains to hide her Beauty, as others did to show theirs; The reading, the walking, and conversation of my Sister who would never forsake her, were all her recreations: the Prince Philoxipeses, Policrite, and Dorida, did sometimes give her a visit, but it was very rarely. Parthenia employed herself sometimes to make her Prison more i'll 〈…〉 〈…〉nt, in causing the Chambers to be painted, and making Gardens: In the mean time, though she strove to Eclipse her beauty, yet it did every day increase, her Cheeks had fresh Roses grew in them, and the lust 〈…〉 her eyes shined more glorious than ever: But the pretyest wonder was, that though Parthen 〈…〉 w no body, yet she was nothing negligent in her dress, but still had as great a care of her beau 〈…〉 as if she had a design to conquer a thousand hearts, as if she had thought, that though it was forbidden her to love any, yet she would employ her inclination to love, and be beloved of herself: and certainly a more beautiful object could not be seen, since Parthenia was never so fair at Court, as I saw her in her solitude, where she suffered me sometimes to come and visit my sister: yet for all that, on some certain day's she would be something out of tune, and so give over herself to Melancholy, that she would fall out with her own Beauty: 'Tis true her humours angered none but herself, for she would even then then vent a hundred excellent things to those that could understand them. I remember one day when I was there, and found her in one of those humours when she was off the hooks in her conceit, and when I heard her wish she were not of so high a quality, to the end she might be more Mistress of herself and less observed by others: and when I heard her wish herself of another sex; however Madam said I unto her, you cannot desire to be more fair than you are. Ah, Megasides, said he unto me, how infinitely are you mistaken? For I protest in the humour now that I am in, I had rather be such an one as Aesop is described, who they say, was the most ill favoured man in the world, then to be the fairest woman, eye ever saw. I confess Madam, said Amaxita, that I cannot believe you, or be of your mind. Perhaps so (said Parthenia, and smiled) but however, I cannot think beauty to be so great a jewel as it is imagined; at least it is none of those sweets which have no mixture of bitterness with them. For my part, Madam, said I unto her, I am not of your opinion: For I am persuaded that beauty is one of the most excellent gifts of the Gods: Do you not see what a sovereign influence it hath upon all hearts above any thing else? It charmeth Marble, and makes it mollible; it tames Tigers, and makes them affable, and subjects the most cruel, rebellious and ambitious spirits. 'Tis true, said Parthenia, but it cannot keep those who are inconstant; and I have known some, but of common beauty, which have been more constantly loved then any others. Since the number of Inconstant's is less than those I named (answered I) and since Inconstancy hath its birth from the hearts of Lovers, and not from the eyes of their Mistresses: It is not to be wondered that it should be so. Yet, Madam, without all dispute, of all the excellent gifts of Nature, Beauty is incomparably the greatest. But not most durable (replied she) and therefore I cannot think a thing so fading, can deserve the Epithet of good, since its sweets are mingled with so many bitter Ingredients. I pray examine what pleasure those find who are owners of Beauty: In their Infancy they are not so much as sensible of it; in more ripe years they injure other beauties; or which is worse, are injured: if they be of fair complexion, than they cannot endure the brown; or if they be brown, they cannot endure the fair; all, that's as fair as themselves, displeaseth and frets their hearts: Moreover, if a Lady look a little pale, or her eyes a little hollow, there needs no more to make all the Town say, Alas, how she's changed! She was fair says one; There goes a withered beauty says another; and every one hath his censorious vote. But say they should not say so, what's the result of the finest Beauty? It gets one many Lovers, whose love lasts no longer than it doth: It attracts at random, both the wise and the foolish, the handsome and ugly; and vanisheth often before youth, and infallibly when age comes. So that those who love their Wives because they are fair, will most certainly come to hate, and at least slight them. I pray then judge whether Beauty be a thing so desirable. Though all should be true (replied Amaxita) yet I had rather be fair, and run the hazard of being slighted when I am old, than not to be fair, and be sure to be slighted when I am young: For truly if one be not fair, there is requisite abundance of wit to supply that want: And since more men are able to judge of the beauty in a face, than they can of wit, or soul, the world will follow the fair, and let fine souls shift for themselves. However it be, said Parthenia, since I am persuaded that the highest misfortune is to be once loved, and then not to be so; and since Beauties are more exposed unto that danger then any others, I do not recant of any thing I said. These, Sir, were the opinions of Parthenia, whilst she was in her melancholy moods; and this was the life she lived when a Gallant of high esteem, called Timantes came to Paphos, with an equipage proportionable to his quality, and high birth, and suitable to the magnificence of his mind and riches, which were both as high as his Quality. This Timantes, Sir, was descended from King Minos, who reigned ●ong in Crete: And though the Crown was not invested in his house, but the form of Government changed, yet the people did highly respect those who were descended from their ancient Kings, insomuch as they had the highest honours, and greatest authority amongst them. So that it may be said, that though the Father of Timantes had not the name of a King, yet 〈◊〉 ●ad very near the authority, especially in matters of War. 'Tis true, that since he didst 〈…〉 observe the Laws of that famous King which before I named, and who was a pattern 〈◊〉 the Legislators of Greece, he did not deceive that trust which the people repo 〈…〉 him, but did infinitely purchase their love; and no wonder; for I am confident, that 〈◊〉 ●oever is an observer of the Laws, will easily get love and obedience also. This, Sir, was the descent of Timantes, whose person was extremely handsome, and whose wit was above ordinary capacities. The reason of his voyage had no matter of privacy in it, and being born in an Isle which had a controversy with ours in point of Reputation, he had a longing curiosity to see whether Cyprus was to be preferred before Crete, or Crete Cyprus: So that his travel being a voyage of pleasure and curiosity only, he arrived at Paphos, as I said, with a most magnificent Train and Equipage. His Quality was no sooner known, but the King did him all imaginable honours; and his merits were no sooner discovered, but he was esteemed beyond all expressions: So that in a few days Timantes was no stranger in our Court: The Queen Aretephile much honoured him; the Prince Philoxipeses had contracted a close friendship with him; Policrite esteemed him, and not a Lady in all the Court, but had a good word for him. As it is the custom of all Courts to double their diversions in favour of strangers, the like was there for Timantes: But whether in company, or Balls, or Sports, or Walks, or public Feasts, Timantes was the only man of spirit, wit, behaviour, and magnificence. So that no one was talked on in Paphos but him, his reputation rung as loud, and reached as far as where the Princess Salamis kept her solitudes; and I think I was the first who described him unto her. Yet she did all she could to hinder me, saying, she would not willingly know any more what passed in the world, since she had quitted it: But notwithstanding, presently after, she asked me, which of all the Ladies in the Court was it that most moved the heart of Timantes? Believe me, Madam, said I unto her, hitherto his civility hath been so equal unto all, that it seems he's not in love with any: For at a grand Feast, where there was used a kind of delightful Combat, where those which fought had their devices upon their Bucklers: Timantes represented upon his, a Phoenix with this Motto; 
I stay until the Sun do burn me.   
Certainly, said Parthenia, this Stranger puts none of the Ladies out of hope to conquer his heart, to the end none should hate him as long as he stays at Paphos. In the mean time, Megasides, you would oblige me very much in acquainting me with these diversions which I am ignorant of: And therefore when you visit your Sister hereafter, I pray you acquaint me with what the Court hath more than it had when I was there; what new diversions, what fresh gallants, and what the old ones, who are past diversions, say. This, Sir, Parthenia heard me speak of Timantes the first time; but I was not the only one who told her of him: For the Prince Philoxipeses went to see her, and did the same; Policrite also, and Dorida writ unto her; so that she had a most exact Idea of Timantes: Yet would she never consent that the Prince Philoxipeses should bring him thither, as he affected; this Prince telling her, that a Stranger would not interrupt her solitude: But she did so earnestly forbid him, that he durst not bring him; or, to say better, the Gods would not permit him, since they would have Timantes and Parthenia acquainted in another manner. But, Sir, before I tell you how it was, be pleased to know, that there was a fair house of Timocleas' Fathers, about a day's journey from Paphos, about half way unto the town or place where Parthenia lived; in this place there was a Labyrinth of Myrtle trees, whose hedges were so thick, and so high, that one shall be as much puzzled to get out of it, as out of the famous Labyrinth of Egypt, or that in Crete; but this was made with such art, that those who were in them of Egypt or Crete, yet could not find out the issues of this: For as that of Crete was made by ingenious Dedalus, when Minos kept there the Minotaur, whose model Dedalus borrowed from that of Egypt: So likewise that which is at Paphos was made by a man, who, having seen both the other, took something out of the one, and something out of the other, and contrived one of the most pleasant diversions in the world: The Architecture seemed in Myrtle as if it had been in Marble, conveying from room to room, from closet to closet, and from gallery to gallery: In divers places there were erected Statues of Alabaster, and Brass, which yet were no notions of the ways in, or out, because the very same were pla 〈…〉 in many places alike; there were also several seats of grasse-cushions, whereupon to r●st the weary limbs of wanderers, or for those that knew the passes to sit & contemplate. The centre of this Labyrinth, where 〈…〉 ease ways did meet, was a most pleasant round, in the midst of which was a most admira 〈…〉 ●ource of water, which was conveyed over the hedges as high as they were. This; Sir, was the Labernele 〈…〉 nth which Timantes had so much curiosity to see, & with more longing desire, because he 〈◊〉 seen that in Crete, which was visited from all parts of the World: He spoke often of going to it: and the Prince Philoxipeses intended to make one, but falling sick, his journey was stopped: So that Timantes turned his intentions into a hunting design, with some others of quality in Paphos: But as chance would have it, Timantes lost his way, and wandered from the rest of the company with a friend who traveled with him, whose name was Antimaques; So that not knowing were they were, they espied at their coming out of a Wood, a very stately house, standing in the midst of a great pleasant Plain; They no sooner saw it, but went thither, both out of curiosity, and to ask where they were, and which was their way to Paphos: Timantes going first, went strait to the door, and found it open: Then came into a great Base Court, where he saw no body: Yet he and Antimaques lighted from their horses, and leaving them with a servant which followed them, they entered into a Garden of a prodigious bigness, whose door also they found open: But as soon as Timantes had taken two turns in the Garden, he saw a great Copps of Myrtle Hedges, so that he made no question but chance had brought him thither, where he had such a desire to go, and that this was the Labyrinth he desired to see; So that walking hastily towards it with a longing desire to satisfy his Curiosity, and never thought of any guide: For since he was acquainted with the turnings and windings of that in Crete, he imagined, he should hit of this also: He entered therefore with Antimaques into this Labyrinth, and as soon as he had passed through five or six of the Rooms or Closets, he found, that he was ignorant of the turnings, and that it differed from the other at Crete: But it was no longer considering, for he was already so far wandered, that the more he sought to find the way out, the further he was carried in. Yet was he much delighted with this pleasant Wilderness: for since Antimaques and he were both in hunting habits, Antimaques had a horn about him: So that they feared not losing themselves, imagining they could make themselves heard when they would: As they were thus talking together, and Antimaques jesting with Timantes at their wandering, and telling him they stood in need of Ariadne's thread to get out of this Labyrinth; and hinting unto him, that being of that Queen's Race, it was more a shame for him then any other, to be thus entangled, upon a sudden, he heard a woman singing, and that most admirably: so that silently walking towards the place from whence the voice came, they found there was but one thick hedge between them and her that sung: But it was so extraordinarily thick and high, that they could by no means possible see her they heard, nor get to her; For when they tried, they found themselves farther from her: So that not being able to withhold commendations from one that sung so well; And Timantes hoping thereby he might perhaps get out of his wandering, he began to cry out, in a loud tone of admiration, as soon as she had done singing; Ah Antimaques how happy is this wandering unto us, provided we meet not with the same destiny by Land, that Ulysses did by Sea, & that harmonious voice we hear be not only a bait to draw us unto a farther loss of ourselves. But Sir, to make the reason of the fantastical encounter the more pleasant unto you, be pleased to know, that she who sung, was the Princess of Salamis: who having planted such a Labyrinth as this at her own house, only the hedges not yet grown above two feet in height, she knew all the turnings very well: So that coming thither that day to consult with my Sister, whether she should place the Statues in hers as in this; She came into this Garden at a little back door, where her Coach waited for her. More over, since she affected to be solitary, she kept this voyage very secret, and therefore she came in a poor Coach, without one man with her, and her chief reason why she made such a mysterious secret of it, was, because this Garden belonged unto a man whose Son was deep in love with her; and therefore she would not have it known who she was, l●st they should imagine she desired to recall him whom she had banished: And it was the easier to conceal, because the Porter and the Houskeeper, who let her in, had been her Domestic Servants whilst her Husband lived; so that they were more for her then for their Master, and therefore they took an especial care none should know it? And in order to that, they went to the place where her Coach stood, lest any should inquire whose Coach it was: They left another Gardener at the other door, with orders to let none enter, though it seemed they were ill observed; for Timantes it seemed found the door open, and entered, as I told you before: But Sir, he had no sooner expressed himself unto Antimaques (as I said before) but Parthenia was much surprised to hear one so near her, and would remove from that place: But Antimaques answering Timantes, that he was so far from fearing this sweet voice would make them lose themselves, as he hoped she would happily help them out of the Labyrinths, she understood by this, that they had really lost themselves, and had no Guide, especially; because she peceived by the accent of their voices, that they were strangers: So that recollecting herself, and imagining that 't 〈…〉 could never get unto the place where she was, and knowing they knew her not, she resolved for diversions sake, to answer them that spoke unto her: So that she said, the voice they heard would not charm them, since they cared not for the hearing it, but only that they might by it get out of that Labyrinth in which they were entangled: Oh Madam, said Timantes, I beseech you mistake me not; For I am so glad of my entanglement, that I wish not to come out: and am so far from seeking for the issues of this Labyrinth, that I seek only how to get unto the place where you are, that I may know whether there be as much sweetness in your eyes as in in your voic: It seems by your expressions, replied Parthenia, that you have as much wit as Civility: but I know not whether I may chide you or no, for offering to engage yourself without a guide in a place where you cannot get out without one. Whilst Parthenia was talking to Timantes, Amaxita, and Antimaques, did both of them, what they could, on their sides of the hedge, to open the boughs of Myrtle: but they were so extraordinary thick and entertwined, that Amaxita laboured long in vain: Yet at last she found a place by the beams of the Sun, which pierced through the thick of the hedge, so that though the place was very narrow, yet she spied Timantes talking to Parthenia, but saw not Antimaques, who was as busy as she some four paces off, but could see none of them: Amaxita no sooner saw Timantes, but she made a sign unto Parthenia, who imagining that since they might see on that side of the hedge, as well as she on this, pulled down her hood, and caused all her women to do the like. Yet she removed a little to look upon the man whom Amaxita spied, and whom she easily perceived to be a man of some great quality, not only by the richness of his Clothes, but also by the Garb, and Air of Timantes; Parthenia stayed not long there; for she no sooner saw him, but she made no question but that he was the stranger of whom they reported such wonders: Insomuch as without any reason, she perceived in herself a strange agitation of that, for which she could find no cause, but only the oddness of the adventure: But at last Antimaques found out a place where he might see Parthenia. 'Tis true, see her but with her hood pulled down, no more than he could Timantes who saw her so also: So that all this while, every one was in a hushed silence:: For Timantes not knowing that the Lady whom he looked upon, desired not to be seen; hoped still she would lift up her hood as he earnestly desired: His curiosity wasthe more zealous, because he saw a Lady of a very handsome stature and Symmetry, and had the whitest hands in the World, for Parthenia pulled Amaxita by the Gown to whisper unto her, that she thought this to be the man so much extolled by every one: So that by this means, Timantes might judge of her beauty by her voice, by her stature, by her arms, and by her hands. As for her dress, nothing could be concluded from it: For that day, she wore such a dress as ladies of highest quality sometimes use, and which those of a more inferior Rank use also, so that nothing could be drawn from it! Nor had he time to observe how her women kept that respective distances, for the hole through which he looked was so little, that he could see but one at once, and Parthenia removing from that place some two paces, he could see her no more, do all he could: I beseech you Madam, said he unto her, though you will not give me leave to see you, yet for Heaven's sake let me hear you; and be not so inhuman as to let an unfortunate stranger wander, and wander for the love of you: For truly Madam, had not your sweet alluring voice becharmed my ear, I am confident I had found the way out of this mysterious Labyrinth: And though I am deceived in this, yet to let you know that I have seen others which I could have better understood: Let me tell you, that I am a Cretan, and I beseech you, let me not find the Cyprian Ladies less pitiful than they there: For doubtless you know how Ariadne helped Theseus out of the Labyrinth there: And be not so cruel I beseech you, as to leave him wandering here, who has the honour to participate of that illustrious and charitable Lady's blood: but help Timantes out of this place as Ariadne did Theseus out of that: For I must needs have the same passion to you, that she had unto him, if you do the like for me. Since you are such an absolute Master of your passions (replied Parthenia, very glad to see she was not deceived) that you can love, when and whom you please: It is to be likewise feared, that you can also hate when and whom you please: and that if I should do for you as Ariadne did for Theseus, you would not do for me as Theseus did for Ariadne: Therefore Sir, I have no disposition to free you from your Labyrinth upon that condition which you propose, for on the contrary, you could tell me nothing which would sooner withhold me: Also since now I know your quality, I cannot find in my heart to see you, because I am much ashamed that I have rendered you no more respect: But Madam (replied he, and smiled) would it not be uncivil, if you should not permit me the sight of you, but to leave me wandering in a place, out of which I cannot get without your help? and do you not fear I should complain against you? Could you know Sir who I am, replied she, doubtless I should fear it, and should not do so: However Madam, I beseech you tell me why you use me thus? The reason is (replied she, and laughed) because having never captivated any by my own charms, I should be glad to take hold of this opportunity, and at least to make one Prisoner. If there want nothing but that, to give you satisfaction (answered Timantes) I promise you to be your Captive, and Prisoner both: I consent not to follow you out, but to remain in this Labyrinth; therefore I beseech you, deny me not the happiness of seeing you, but instruct me which way I should come unto the place where you are; since I shall be nothing but a piece of incivility towards you, replied she, I cannot allow myself to let you see me: but must be guilty of this cruelty wherewith you charge me: The cruelty of fair ones, will absolutely be forgotten, (replied he) if they will but once show themselves, how can I give credit unto your words (replied she and laughed still) since you rank me in the number of fair ones before you see me. I know already (replied he) that you have a most Angel-like voice, not only in singing but in speaking: moreover I know that you are of a most admirable stature & garb, & that you have the whitest hands upon earth: so that if your eyes be answerable, and as far as I imagine them, you must needs be the fairest upon earth: Since you imagine them so fair, replied Parthenia, I will keep you still in that imagination, and not show them unto you; yet that you shall not say I am altogether inhuman, I promise to send you one that shall help you out of that Labyrinth, assoon as I am gone. Timantes perceiving Parthenia prepared to be gone. I beseech you Madam said he unto her, let me at the least know your name as I have told you mine: I had rather let you have a sight of me (answered she) then tell you my name, but I pray you give me leave to conceal both. After this, Parthenia went away, and Timantes heard no other noise but what she and her women made as they departed, who never feared being followed; yet they went very fast, and took Coach in all haste, commanding the Porter to go and help those strangers out who were wand'ring in the Labyrinth, but not until a full hour after she was gone, commanding him also not to tell who she was, but to say they were some Ladies of Paphos unknown to him. After this, Parthenia went away, and the porter in obedience to his former Mistress, stayed an hour, before he went to release the strangers she spoke of. In the mean time Timantes and Antimaques were as busy as could be to follow her, but they were so far from getting out as they came into the middle of it, that is to say, in the round place where they resolved to stay and expect the performance of her promise. But as every minute seemed an age unto any that are in expectation of any thing, Timantes began to express his sorrows unto Antimaques that he could not see the face of her who sung, and his extreme desire to know her name; yet his impatiency was not so earnest to be out of the Labyrinth, as that he might endeavour to learn who this unknown one was, whose voice, stature, hands, and wit, did so pleasingly surprise him, & sweetly charm him: so that Antimaques, thinking the sound of his Horn would the sooner cause some unto their release, began to wind it as loud as he could, but all in vain, for the Porter who walked in the Garden till the hour after Parthenia's departure; hindered the Gardener from going to them also: but when the hour was over, he went and released them: assoon as he saw them, according to Parthenia's order, he told Timantes, that a Lady unknown unto him sent him to release them, and asked pardon for coming no sooner, because he met with a man with whom he had some business of importance. Ah my friend (answered Timantes) you tell me not truly, for it is impossible you should not know one who is so well acquainted with every turn of this mysterious Labyrinth. Sir, (said the Porter with a seeming ingenuity) since I have not been long a Porter unto this house, it is no wouder I should not know this Lady; for I assure you my Master hath a Daughter I know not yet: Timantes did not yet believe him, but pressed him to tell him who she was; but all in vain: then did he promise him a very considerable reward, if he would but satisfy his longing curiosity, but since promises are not so prevalent with such men, as present gifts, and since Timantes had nothing about him to give, he kept himself faithful unto Parthenia. When Timantes saw he could not win him to reveal, and indeed believed he was ignorant who she was; however tell me said he unto him, which way she went: Sir (said the man most subtly) I shall easily do that; and then he showed him the high way to Paphos, assuring him confidently that her Coach went that way, though it were quite contrary, and he told it with more confidence, because the way was much beaten, and Coach-wheels might be seen lately gone that way, so that Timantes giving credit unto his words, took Horse with Antimaques, and without any thoughts of Hunting, went in haste and hopes to overtake the Coach: yet he asked the Servant whom he left with the Horses, whether he saw any thing, but though he answered, yet did not this undeceive him, so that he went as far as Paphos in hopes to overtake it: and so it chanced, that ask some men upon the way whether they met a Coach, they answered that they met two: so that Timantes not questioning but she in whom he was in quest of was one, he went on: but when he came at Paphos, and told every one he spoke with, that the Lady he met with at the Labyrinth came thither, none ever looked towards the Princess of Salamis, nor could they believe she would ever leave her desert, and come unto that place for the reason aforesaid, and therefore none ever thought upon her: but to consider who there was in Paphos who did so well sing, but since the number of them was great this afforded no light, the Prince Philoxipeses never thought upon the Princess his Sister, but on the contrary imagined her whom Timantes heard to be a woman of inferior rank, who had a good voice but was very ugly, and for that reason would not show herself, and indeed every one was of that opinion, and chid Timantes for his curiosity: But he for his further satisfaction would see this ugly woman, and hear her sing; but when he saw and heard this woman, he was confident she was not the same: but his imagination was filled with so much curiosity, that Timantes began to suspect it was Parthenia which he heard. In the mean time, he would not declare his thoughts unto any but one woman, who was his friend, and this woman beingone of those whom Parthenia had heretofore robbed of her adorer, she hated her; he had no sooner asked her whether this woman whom he met with might not be the Princess of Salamis, whose Beauty, Wit, and Voice, he had heard so much extolled; But she cried out, and answered with as much envious haste as any Rival could, that if she whom he met was of a good stature, white hands, and sweet voice as he described, it could not be Parthenia. For said she, however she be cried up by the world, yet she is tall but not handsome, her hands are white, but not well made, and her Voice is shrill, but not pleasant. You may imagine Sir, after this, that all the suspicions of Timantes died, for he knew that he whom he saw was of an admirable proportion and height, her hands the whitest and best made in the World, and her voice the most sweet and pleasing: so that this pleasing Idea swelling his imagination more and more, and augmenting his curiosity, he continued his quest after this amiable unknown one, he went unto the Temples, to the Walks, and all Visits, with an intended design to seek her out in all places: but all his labour was lost, and he still continued in the same unquiet curiosity. In the mean while Parthenia being returned from the Labyrinth to her solitude, began to talk with Amaxita of their encounter, extremely commending the handsome garb of Timantes, and the gallantry of his wit. Madam, (said Amaxita unto her) if Timantes prove the man whom the Gods have reserved for you, our journey was very happy, and I am confident your voice and wit did charm him more than you imagine, for he spoke in such an obliging Emphasis, as certainly expressed more than common civility. Alas Amaxita (answered Parthenia and laughed) do you think I could wound Timantes through so thick a hedge? I know they say Love has wings, but I cannot think he can fly so high as over it: therefore never imagine that Timantes has any thoughts of me: his curiosity happily lasted a quarter of an hour, or so, and after that, died, and there's an end: and I pray let us do the like, and never trouble ourselves, with chimerical Fancies in the Air, which have neither beginning nor ending: For truly Timantes will never love me unseen, and if he should see me, and chance to be captivated by that poor pittance of Beauty which I have, I durst never trust him; not only because of that cruel experience I have had, that love founded upon Beauty will never last, but also because the Gods have foretold me, that I shall never be happy if I marry one whom my eyes have captivated. These, Sir, were the thoughts which Parthenia had of Timantes, whose person and wit did much please her: yet had he easily slipped out of her memory, unless the Prince Philoxipeses had visited her, who revived him in her fancy; and thus it came to pass. After that Prince had been a long while in conversation with her, she asked him whether he would give her leave to show him the alterations she had made in her Garden: And Philoxipeses desiring the same, P arthenia carried him into all the places which she had tricked up since he saw her; for he had an admirable fancy and judgement in such things, his stately house of Clara having learned him knowledge in such things. After a long discourse of Fountains, Walks, Statues, and Flowers, Philoxipeses casting his eye upon the Labyrinth which I told you before she had made, and whose hedges were not yet grown up; Your Labyrinth, said he unto her, will be a long time in growing up before they will be fit for such an adventure as the Stranger had of whom I spoke the last time I saw you; for these hedges are yet very low. Parthenia, hearing Philoxipeses say so, changed colour: 'Tis true he did not take notice of it, because his head was turned towards the Labyrinth: So that Parthenia recollecting herself, asked Philoxipeses what that adventure was, which she knew of better than he did? And he related from the beginning to the ending all the story, aggravating the applauses and commendations which Timantes gave the unknown Lady, purposely to make his relation seem more pleasant: For after he had told Parthenia, how Timantes had extolled her he knew not, and he thought him in love with her, he added his further conceit, that he thought she whom he so excessively commended, was a woman of low Quality, and ugly; then he named that woman unto Parthenia whereof he spoke before, and with whom he had so upbraided Timantes. Methinks he may be soon satisfied, whether or no it be she (said the Princess, and laughed) for he need only see and hear this woman. He hath done so already (replied he) but he is certain that it was not she, and is angry when any names her unto him, most confidently affirming, that she whom he saw is the handsomest woman in the world, and seeks out for her in all places. You may imagine, Sir, how much delight the Princess of Salamis took in hearing a relation of an adventure which concerned herself, unknown to the Prince Philoxipeses; yet this was not her greatest delight; for her certainty that she made some impression upon the mind of Timantes, or at least his memory gave her so high a satisfaction, that how joyed soever she was in the company of Philoxipeses whom she tenderly loved, yet she was impatient till he was gone, that she might the sooner tell Amaxita all he had related. She offered a hundred times to discover unto the Prince the truth of the adventure, but some secret suggestion of her thoughts did hinder her: However she asked Philoxipeses a hundred questions concerning Timantes, which induced him to tell her, he would bring him to her; but she forbade him more violently than ever; telling him, the more complete Timantes was, the less desire she had to see him: For truly, said she, when one is resolved upon a course of solitude, to bring any pleasant company which is not to stay there, doth but redouble sorrows, and leaves one in a more deep and serious melancholy and misery: And truly, whensoever you do me the honour to see me, 'tis two days at least after, before I can take any delight either in Fountains or Gardens. You could not in a more civil manner tell me (replied Philoxipeses) that I should not come so oft to see you; and indeed I am partly acquainted with your humour, which is not to affect such pleasures as are seconded by sorrows, and that's your chief reason why you would not be loved, lest you should run the hazard of not being so after. 'Tis very true, replied she, I place that unhappiness in the highest rank of misfortunes; and as I think there cannot be a greater: But you see (said Philoxipeses unto her) that all those who love do not prove Inconstant's, as the Prince of Salamis was, and as many others who loved you did. And to show you one example, I do protest unto you, that the enjoyment of my dear Policrite, does not at all lessen my love: I am as much charmed as I was before I married her; and if handsomeness would permit it, I would cast myself as submissively at her feet now as ever: For my heart is not at all altered, and I am more troubled to hinder myself from expressions of my passion, then to continue my zealous affections to her. Policrite is still admirably fair, replied Parthenia, that your Constancy hath not yet been put to any difficult test: For I confess there are a sort of men, not like those, who fall off from loving, before the beauty doth which first moved them, and whose passion does last as it doth. Fie, Sister, said Philoxipeses, wrong me not so much as to think, that though Policrite were not fair, I should not love her as much as ever; but believe me that her beauty is not the only cause of my Constancy; her soul, and her mind has a million of real beauties beyond it, which time and age can never ruin, and which I shall dote upon eternally. I need no confirmations of my opinion, said Parthenia, that it is not beauty which causeth constant and faithful love. Philoxipeses would then have said more, but it was late; and therefore he concluded with Parthenia, that as the absence of the Sun causeth darkness; so the loss of beauty causeth lukewarmness and inconstancy in those who love only for it. After this he returned to the Court, and left Parthenia at liberty to talk with Amaxita, unto whom she related all that the Prince had said concerning Timantes, taking great delight in talking with her; wishing sometimes that Timantes knew it was she, and sometimes again checking herself for wishing. Since Amaxita would have been glad to have Parthenia less solitary, she used all her arguments to persuade her, that Philoxipeses might bring Timantes to her; but she could not be moved unto it, still protesting, that her beauty should never be the cause of her misfortune, and that both reason, experience, and the authority of the gods obliged her not to change her opinion. After this, Sir, Parthenia would sometimes unawares talk of Timantes, and then cease for many days together; so that perhaps she would have quite forgot him, but for another adventure which I shall acquaint you withal. It was now at that time of the year when the Adonian Feast was celebrated in the Town of Amathonte, which is so famous for the magnificent Temple there, and the ceremony there celebrated. I know, Sir, you will be a little surprised to hear talk of this Feast in a place where Venus Urania had not more Altars than hath Venus Anadiomena. But be pleased to know, that when that famous Queen, of whom ye have heard reports, did re-establish the Temples of that great goddess, she was forced to tolerate some customs which were not quite repugnant unto good manners: For as the herd of people do oftentimes love the Ceremonies of Religion, better than the Religion itself, she thought it not expedient to incense those who were apt to murmur at an universal change: So that she was in some sort forced to tolerate the Feast of the Adonians for the satisfaction of the people in Amathonte: So that since that time this Feast is still kept, and become so famous, that they resort from all parts of the Isle unto it. Parthenia knowing the day when it was to be observed, resolved to go thither, and more for the satisfaction of Amaxita's desires, then to content her own curiosity: And so she designed for Amathonte, but to go unknown, lest it should be laid in her dish, she should quit her solitude, to see such a Feast as that. Since she was acquainted with one in Amathonte whom she could absolutely command, because she was brought up with the Princess her mother, she lodged at her house: And since she was well in years, & had neither husband nor children, nor any great Family, she did so well conceal herself there, that none ever suspected she was at Amathonte: For coming in the night, & in no magnificent Coach, & having none with her but my Sister, & two women to wait upon her, it was no difficulty to be unperceived in that Town, especially at a time when so many strangers were there: But, Sir, give me leave to tell you, that this Feast of the Adonians is a Feast of Tears at the beginning, & of Joy at the end, as you shall ere long know. In the first place, it was the very essential part of the Ceremony in mourning for the death of Adonis, to forbid all Ladies that day to enter into the Temple with their masks off, or hoods up, it being not permitted those that come to lament over the Tomb of Adonis to have their faces uncovered as long as the Ceremony lasted: For since all the Ladies could not cry, they said it was better they should come vailed, than that Joy should be seen in their eyes at a Feast of Tears. The first thing that is to be seen in the Temple that day, which is full of Lamps, and no other Light, is a great Coffin of Gold covered with Roses, Myrtle, and Cypress, lifted upon four steps covered with black Tapestry, full of inflamed hearts, and drops of tears in silver: These four steps stand upon four great Pillars of black and white Marble, twenty paces in diameter; about which stand all those that are spectators of the Ceremony: These Pillars being half covered with the richest Sydonian Tapestry; Close about the Coffin kneel fifty of the fairest Virgins in the Town, dressed like Nymphs; but Nymphs in mourning, and all in despair, that is, with loose Robes of black Tiffeny, with a mixture of silver their hair dishevelled upon their shoulders, yet not in a negligent manner, testifying by dissembled tears, or at least deep-fetched sighs, their extreme sorrow of soul. About this Square, on which the Coffin lies, is hanged all the Equipage of a Hunter, but a Hunter most magnificent, that is, with a Bow of Ebony garnished with Gold, with a Quiver of the same; a Horn of Ivory, adorned with Jewels; a Hunter's staff headed with Rubies and Emeralds. Then two of those mourning Beauties, which were about the Coffin, began to recite in verse the Praises of Adonis in form of a Dialogue; and when their Panegeric was ended, twelve others began to sing other Verses, condoling his death, and to say truly, the Song was sad, and so full of grieving expressions, enough to melt any heart. But before I end the relation of this Ceremony, I must needs tell you, Sir, how the gods having determined that Timantes should love Parthenia, prompted him to come unto this Feast, and so he did; and was not only there; but had placed himself between Parthenia and Amaxita, who according to the custo● of this place had their hoods pulled down, and therefore the beauty of Parthenia could not attract his looks more than any other of the Ladies who were all hooded, except those who were about the Coffin: But since Parthenia and Amaxita spied him, they made a sign unto each other as soon as he came in, signifying thereby their meanings. Parthenia confessed afterwards unto me, that she no sooner saw Timantes, but her heart did beat, and she thought of changing places; but thinking afterwards that perhaps it might more attract observance, she stayed where she was. As for Timantes, since he saw no Ladies unvailed but those about the Coffin, and knew not that she he so sought after was so near him, he regarded the Ceremony with close attention, until after the twelve had sung their Song of sorrow. One amongst them turned towards all the Ladies of the Assembly, and conjured them in the name of Venus to conjoin their complaints with theirs, and sing with her six verses which she would immediately recite unto them, to the end that which they made for the death of Adonis might be a public mourning; and she no sooner began to sing these six verses (which all the Cyprian Ladies knew) but all within the Temple began to sing after her; so that Parthenia singing as the rest, not thinking that in such a crowd of voices Timantes could distinguish hers: But however, Sir, she no sooner began to sing, but amongst this great abundance of several voices, which made the Temple echo, he distinguished hers from them all, and knew it; and the voice no sooner struck his ears, but his heart, and let him know he had found her he long had looked for. So that without any further regard unto the ceremony, he turned towards her, to see whether he could find the same conformity in her stature as in her voice; and as she feared, lest her hood should not be enough down, she cunningly, pulled it down with her fair hand: So that Timantes seeing the same stature, the same hand, and hearing the same voice which he heard before, did not question but she was the same he met with before. Yet he would not speak unto her until she had done singing; Mean while he endeavoured to discover through her Veil, whether her face was as fair as all he knew, but his endeavours were in vain: For the Temple having no light but that of Lamps, he was uncertain whether Parthenia's Veil was thicker than others; for since her intention was to conceal herself, she wore one of those which our Ladies use to wear when they travel, to keep them from the Sun. Timantes could therefore see no more, than what he said before: Yet it did not much trouble him, for his hope was, that after the Ceremony was ended, he should satisfy his curiosity. So that Parthenia had no sooner done singing with the rest, but Timantes bowing and speaking unto her in a low voice; I need not ask Madam, said he unto her, what is become of my curiosity to see this ceremony, for certain it is yourself, who drew me hither, without my knowledge. Sir answered Parthenia, if I did draw you hither without your knowledge, pray add this, that it was without my knowledge: For since I have neither the honour to be known unto you, nor to know you, certainly we met without design: But since Sir, the end of the ceremony will quickly separate us, and since you came to see it, not talk with me, I beseech you observe the end with as much attention as you did the beginning: Ah Madam, (said he unto her) I cannot do as you bid me: And to show you, that I ought not, be pleased to know, that I am the same Timantes, who had the honour to meet you in the Labyrinth, and who since that have sought you in all places. You need not tell me who you are (replied she subtly, and purposely to amuse him) for I have seen you in other places then here or there: Timantes was so surprised at this answer of Parthenia's, that he knew not what to say, for he knew not that she saw him through the hedge, but imagining that she had seen him at Paphos. However, he knew none that did sing like her, nor who spoke as she did; so that hearing her say so, he knew not what to think or say: Also she imposed silence, during all the rest of the ceremony, not, said she, I have any such great devotion unto this Feast, as I should if it were unto Venus Urania; but because it is not just, since you came from Paphos hither, and since I am here not to observe it, and be able to tell you what we have seen. For your part Madam, said he unto her, you may do what you please; but for my part, I am resolved to look upon nothing but yourself: For I am so afraid to lose you again, that I am resolved not to be put to the cruel necessity of being separated from you the second time, before I see you. Parthenia hearing Timantes say so, and having no mind to express herself, that he should not see her, or know who she was, lest she should augment his curiosity, gave him no answer, but imposed silence, and observed the rest of the ceremony. Her example was nothing to Timantes, who could see nothing they did, since he had Parthenia to look upon. In the mean while, the ceremony continued still: a consort of hunting instruments was heard: another of Shepherd's Music, and another of Lutes: after which, they put most rare Odours in the perfuming pans which made a little cloud, and by an engine which invisibly moved the Coffin of gold vanquished in the blood, as well as the Tapestry of sable full of inflamed hearts, and tears of Silver: and in Lieu of so sad an object, was seen a little Garden set with Rose tre●s, and Myrtles in huge magnificent basins standing upon the square, where the Coffin did lie in the midst, of which did grow above all the rest of the flowers, that sweet flower, into which 'tis said, the Gods at the request of Venus, did metamorphose Adonis. So that those sweet Odours dissipating by degrees, the ceremony began to look with another face, and the same women which before sung songs of sorrow, throwing away all their Mantles of mourning, appeared in rich and magnificent dresses, and sung some verses which declared the immortality of Adonis unto all the Assembly: So that the ceremony ended in joy, and a sacrifice of thanks: But Sir, since the custom is, that as soon as this little Garden appears, all the Ladies must unmask themselves; Parthenia who was not ignorant of it, though she had never seen the Feast, made a sign unto Amaxita to retire; and indeed, when the perfuming Pans sent forth such clouds of sweet smoky Odours as did both darken the Temple, & almost stifle the Ladies; Parthenia seeming not able to endure it, changed places with Amaxita and her two women, and retired with variety of thoughts, for she feared Timantes would know and follow her: yet she was very glad, that he did not perceive her when she changed places; yet quickly he found her, and changed place as well as she, and followed her under one of the Arches of the Temple, where she was set with Amaxita, intending to go out amongst the crowd when the ceremony was ended, not daring to go out sooner, lest Timantes should follow unto the place where she lodged. In the mean time, as she was sitting, and causing my Sister to sit with her without any ceremony, (the better to disguise the matter) Timantes came and kneeled down before her, ask pardon for that liberty which he took, and beseeching her not to be as rigorous unto him, as she was in the Labyrinth, for Madam (said he unto her) though I do infinitely honour your sex in general, and you above all in particular, I am resolved this day to fail in that duty which I owe you, by importuning you to do me the honour to lift up that envious veil which covers your fair face, and hinders the beams of your beauty from shining upon me, or else to tell me in what place and time my eyes may have a sight of her whom my heart already honours. Since Nature hath not bestowed upon me, replied Parthenia, any such beauty as your imagination gives me, I will not myself put you out of that pleasing Idea, which you have form of me in your Fancy, but which does not at all resemble me: for truly when you see me, and see me so infinitely below what you think I am, I shall then perhaps in lieu of chase curiosity out of your mind, put aversion into your heart. Ah Madam, said he, though your eyes should not be suitable to your stature and proportion, nor to your voice, nor to your hands, nor your wit, yet I should infinitely honour you. Yet Beauty does not consist in any thing you know of me, replied she, for the most exact and handsome stature in the world, the fairest hands, the sweetest voice, and the finest wit, may notwithstanding all these be the ugliest woman in a land; if her complexion be thick and muddy, the symmetry of her face disproportionable, and her physiognomy savage or dull. Ah Madam, answered Timantes, all these you name makes me believe you are such an one as my imagination Fancies: for truly if you were not so fair as I think you are, you could never make such a handsome description of ugliness, and I am confident, that to make up your own picture, there needs no more but the just contraries to what you have said: Therefore Madam I beseech you in the name of that Goddess which is here adored, let me at least know who you are, for I am resolutely determined to follow you until I know. Parthenia perceiving Timantes to speak as a man fully resolved to see her, and to know who she was, was exceedingly perplexed, she knew well enough, that if she should lift up her hood, he could not know her; but she thought also, that the sight would more augment his curiosity then diminish it, and that he would then follow her as earnestly as before, she durst not trust unto his discretion, and show her face or tell her name, because she was not so well acquainted with him, as to think he would be faithful, nor would she in the mind she then was in, suffer her beauty to make a conquest of him; and though she did already very much esteem him, both by all reports, and by her own knowledge, yet she would not let him see her face, nor put herself upon such terms as should oblige her to shun him: But she knew not very well what advantage she could draw unto herself by not letting him see her and know who she was; yet for all that, since the Gods had let her know she should never be happy by procuring love unto herself, by any allurements of her Beauty, she could not resolve upon it, but concluded it to be her duty to submit unto the opinion of the Oracles, both of Delphos, and of Venus Urania. Thus was she fully resolved not to show herself, or name herself unto Timantes, therefore beginning to speak, Sir said she unto him, I perceive that you have some sleight curiosity to know who I am, and therefore to be just, I must not think it strange you should desire satisfaction from me, especially since certainly you are persuaded, that in importuning me to lift up my hood, you think to do me a civility by it: But Sir, to testify that I will deal with you as with one whose virtues I honour, I will impart something unto you, and tell you, that it does so much concern me, that you should not at present know who I am, as perhaps the wellbeing of my life depends upon it: therefore I conjure you, by all that is dear unto you, not to ask me who I am, nor to follow me. It seems Madam, replied he, that you dare not trust that virtue which you say you know in me, since you dare impart nothing unto me: But Madam, one is not obliged to do impossibilities, and since I must not for ever lose you, therefore I do profess that I will never leave you until I know who you are, but withal I do assure you I will never reveal who you are, since you would not have it known. Parthenia then perceiving the obstinacy of Timantes, bethought herself of another expedient to prevent his knowing who she was, and presently propounded it unto him, because she saw the ceremony was ready to end. Sir, (said she unto him) I confess I cannot hinder you from following of me, and therefore you may know where I lodge, and perhaps know who I am; but I do here profess and declare unto you, that if you do so, you shall never see or speak unto me again, but on the contrary, if you will be so observant of my desires as not to follow me, nor to inquire who I am, nor ever tell any without exception, that you met with her the second time, whom you first met with in the Labyrinth, I promise you my company in a place which will afford better conveniency of talk then here; Therefore make your choice Sir, but first consider well, that if I tell you this day who I am, I will shun you all the days of my life after, so that you shall never see me more; and if you do not follow me, but exactly do this I desire, I will keep my promise with you: but do not think of promising (addeth she) and not performing, for I am confident there is not one in all Paphos unto whom you can impart these adventures, which will not communicate it unto me again the same hour: therefore take heed what you say, for I do the second time reiterate my resolution never to see you again as long as I live, if you see me this day, and do not punctually observe all my desires. Madam, said he unto her, what would you have a man answer who is ready to die with desire of knowing you, and whom you would have run the hazard of never knowing you: No, no, (said she hastily unto him, seeing that the people began to go out of the Temple) provided you do not follow me, but do as I desire, you shall infallibly see me, and speak with me, within these eight days. Swear then unto me, answered Timantes, in the presence of the Goddess who is here to be adored: I do said she unto him, but after that, do not follow me one pace further, and to keep you to your distance, think that the only means of seeing me hereafter, is not to follow me now. But Madam, answered he, you do not tell me where I shall find you: I will let you know it at Paphos, said she, and went away. Once more (said Timantes in following her) may I trust unto your words? Yes answered she, so you do not follow me. Parthenia spoke these words unto Timantes in such a resolved manner, as he saw she would be obeyed, and therefore he thought his duty so to do it; yet this thought had not fast root in his heart, fearing that unknown beauty should break promise with him, he still looked after Parthenia, who turned her head two or three times to see whether he obeyed, and still looked after her as long as he could with intention to follow her maugre all her promises: But assoon as she was mingled amongst that great crowd of veiled Ladies which went out of the Temple, do what he could, he lost the sight of her; yet he thought he saw her in the street joining to the gate of the Temple, but he was deceived, for assoon as he was out, she turned upon the right hand, still observing whether or no, Timantes did punctually obey her, and perceived that he had much ado; and though she did not desire he should see or know her at this time, yet I know not whether or no she desired he should obey her without repugnancy; yet she was very glad she was out of sight, and gladder when she was come to the place where she lodged, out of which she stirred not, until she returned homewards the next morning: As for Timantes, he had a mind to stay some days in Amathonte, to inquire who this unknown Lady was; but since she promised him, to let him hear of her at Paphos, he returned thither, after he had walked over all the streets of this stately Town, above twenty times, in hopes to find her, who was already in his heart; but after all his unprofitable quest, he returned to Paphos, having brought with him one servant and two Lacques, for Antimaques stayed behind by reason of some indisposition he found in himself. In his return, he did nothing but muse continually upon his adventure; yet according to his promise he resolved to tell it unto none, unless she broke promise with him; he examined all reasons, and considered which of them it might be which caused her to deal thus with him, and there was nothing which his imagination did not suggest unto him; sometimes he thought, that perhaps she was not fair, but that thought vanished upon consideration of her fair hands, handsome stature, sweet voice, and her admirable wit, which were strong Arguments unto his faith that she was Fair. Afterwards he suspected her to be some woman that came to Amathonte upon some design of secret gallantry; but afterward considering that she concealed herself aswell in the Labyrinth as at Amathonte, and that he saw no men with her, he changed his thoughts: At last he arrived at Paphos, and there he knew not what to do or think: In the mean time this adventure came so near his heart, that he thought upon nothing else, during the eight days of his longing expectation: As oft as he went out of his own lodging, he left word, that if any came to speak with him upon any business, to bring them unto him: And he never came in but he asked whether any were there to speak with him, or brought him any Letters: His life was so unquiet, and his curiosity so full of impatience, that hours seemed days, and days ages. But whilst Timantes was in this condition, Parthenia was in a confused irresolution: Her first thoughts were to break premises with Timantes, and not to see him; yet she continued not long in that mind; for considering that if she broke with him, he was not obliged to keep promise with her, but divulging unto all the world this last meeting, they might come to guess the truth: so her first resolution held not, but she asked counsel of my Sister. I pray Amaxita (said she unto her) tell me what you would do if you were in my condition? Ought I to break my promise with Timantes, or keep it? For my part, Madam (replied Amaxita, who did all she could to drive her out of her solitary humour) I cannot see any reason you have to break your promise with him, nor can I discover any ill that can come unto you by observing it; for if he do see you, than he will love you, and then the Oracle is fulfiled; and truly, Madam, I am so confident that Timantes is the man whom the Gods have reserved for you, that I dare not advise you to break your word with him: For you have met him twice in so strange a manner as induceth me to this opinion: For do you not observe, that as unknown unto him as you are he is unquiet, and as full of respective curiosity as some Lovers who have seen you a thousand times, and who did not think more of you then Timantes doth? Though all you say, were true, replied Parthenia, yet am I not much beholding to him, since his curiosity is not an effect of my merit; but because naturally one loves to know that which he is ignorant of, especially in some things: Yet I am confident, replied Amaxita, that if your voice had been harsh, your stature and composure ill favoured, your hands ugly, and your wit gross, when you spoke unto him, his curiosity had not lasted half a quarter of an hour: I do not say that Timantes is in love with you; but I dare confidently assure you, that if you will, he will be: For I perceive by his expressions that there is such a tender and passionate kind of inclination betwixt you and him, as useth to be between two who really love. By this account, said Parthenia, you think my heart has the same inclination to Timantes as the heart of Timantes hath to me. Truly Madam (replied she, and smiled) If my respects I owe you would permit me, I should freely and ingenuously confess, that I think Timantes hath a strong inclination to love you, and that you have also an inclination to suffer him he should love you. Therefore I beseech you consider, being born in an Isle where it is a shame not to be loved, and not to love; whether it be handsome to muse away your life in this manner: If it be not, I would advise you to do more than all the Beauties of the Court can, and captivate the heart of Timantes, which would not be taken by all their Charms. Amaxita (said Parthenia to her) to lay open the secret of my soul unto you, I must confess that I think the chief felicity of life consists in the having sovereign authority over the heart of some one, and in a pleasing communication of joys and sorrows unto a suitable disposition: This sympathy of souls and spirits, doth doubtless find great sweetness in pure affections; but yet, for all that, there is too much equality between two friends to find that satisfaction, as may be had in an affection of another nature; for one shall not find in friendship a blind obedience, secrets are commonly disclosed; and though friendship have a fire in it, aswell as love hath, yet that fire is but a light without heat, whereas love both heats and lights; and indeed my dear Amaxita (pursued she and blushed) it must needs be confessed, that a pure and innocent love is the only joy of the world, if it be lasting; But the cruelty of it is, when a firm and constant soul contracts affection with a light and perfidious heart. But do you think Madam (replied Amaxita) that it is an absolute impossibility to find a constant lover? I do not think it impossible, said Parthenia, but I think it a great difficulty, especially amongst those who love only for beauty, and no other reason; the truth is, to make love lasting and perfect, there must no interest be mixed with it, he must love because he is forced unto it; reason must be excluded, and not at all contribute: And indeed I confess Amaxita, that if I thought I should find Timantes to be a man who could love me, without any consideration of my quality, or my riches, or without grounding his passion upon that little pittance of Beauty which I have, I would do any thing to get his affection: I do not say I would commit any crime to purchase it; but I should go a little further than that exact rule of prudence which would have one hazard nothing. I pray you Madam said Amaxita, what hazard do you run, in this occasion which presents itself? you know Timantes deserves you, both by his birth, his riches, his person, his wit, and his virtue; moreover you know, the Prince your Brother loves him dearly, and you see Timantes courts you and seeks you out in all places; moreover yet, it appears by the manner of your meetings, that it is he whom the Gods would have you marry: for it is not by any influence from your eyes, that you have captivated, or at least filled him full of curiosity; and therefore Madam, if you will follow my advice, keep your word with him, let him see you, but not know who you are if he does not love you, yet you run no hazard, because he knows not who you are, and if he do love you, than you have found in Timantes the man that must make you happy: But though I would keep my word with him and see him, replied she, yet how shall I do it? unto whom can I trust the secret? and how can I handsomely see him unless he come hither? Moreover, since it ought not to be by that little beauty I have, that I must captivate him who must make me happy, I conceive it ought rather to be by my virtue then my wit, that I must make this conquest, and therefore I make a question whether in consenting that Timantes shall see me in secret, I bring my virtue in suspicion, for certainly I have a most invincible aversion against any thing of immodesty. Amaxita seeing there was no difficulty in the mind of Parthenia, but how to carry the matter handsomely, began to consider how it might be done, and she considered so well, that her imagination had contrived a way how to satisfy the Princess. But Sir, it is fit I tell you, that the Principal reason which moved Amaxita to persuade Parthenia that Timantes might speak with her, was, because Philoxipeses and Policrite had desired her a thousand times that she would persuade this Princess to quit her solitude, and not to rely so punctually upon the strict words of the Oracle, which they thought was ill interpreted. This Sir was the motive which induced Amaxita unto what she did, and to induce Parthenia to lay hold of this expedient which she proposed unto her, she moved her to read over again the Oracle of Delphos, which was as I told you before in these words, That if she would be happy, she must not marry a man whom her eyes had not captivated, and by consequence (said Amaxita) it must be concluded that there is one in the world who may love you and never see your eyes; for the Gods do never foretell things impossible; so that it is almost evident that Timantes is the man whom the Gods have sent to make you happy: therefore Madam if you will take my judgement think no more upon it, but let him speak with you. But I pray you Amaxita, said Parthenia, how can I go unto Paphos and not be known? and how can I see Timantes, but he must see my face? or talk with him, but he may guess who I am? However, after this cruel experience which I have had in the inconstant resolutions of those who only love Beauty; I will not have Timantes know whether my eyes be fair or ugly, nor know my quality; for truly if I do conquer his heart, it shall not be by fading beauty which dies, and his affection dies with it, and which will leave me in such a sad despair, as I have had but too much trial off. Amaxita hearing Parthenia say so, would not contradict her, because she thought it not impossible, but Timantes might fall in love with her, and not see her face, and that he was not of their opinion, who think the eyes only are the givers and receivers of love. But Madam, said she, you must act your part, and therefore you must give it out you intent a journey of fifteen days, and in lieu of going to the place pretended, go secretly iuto Paphos, and lodge ata friends of my Brothers, and stay there all that time, during which time, upon some pretence which we will think upon at leisure, I will procure that your Chamber shall be a ground room towards the Garden, with a Belcone which opens upon a Jessimine Arbor, which is much darker than any other; this friend is a woman of quality and virtue, her Husband and Son are both at Athens, and she is much obliged unto my Brother, and he to her; she it is we will trust in the business. But if it should come to be known I was at Paphos (said Parthenia) what would people say? and what would they think? At the worst (replied Amaxita) they can but say you had a mind to see a Horse-race and not be known; and indeed this was a handsome excuse, for there was to be one, and the end of the race was to be behind the Lady's house; yet Parthenia could not bring her mind unto it, until the sixth day when I came thither, where I was no sooner come, but she desired to ask me concerning Timantes, purposely to know whether he had been secret, for I had the honour to see him after with the Prince Philoxipeses. Amaxita in obedience to Parthenia's commands, asked me before her, whether the stranger of whom such wonders were reported was still at Paphos? and whether he was as pleasant in the Court, as he was at first? Timantes, replied I, is questionless as complete a Gallant as the World hath, but since a journey he took to see the Adonian feast, he is become much more reserved, and unquiet than he was before; yet certainly it is by reason of some distemper in his body, not mind, for no ill accidents have any way crossed him: Perhaps he is in love (said Parthenia) No, no, replied I, for since his return from Amathonte, he never visited one Lady: Then certainly (said she laughing, and looking upon Amaxita) the Adonian feast hath inspired him with such a melancholy, as it cannot be cured again. After this, passing from one discourse to another, I began to relate what expectation there was of a Horse-race to be at Paphos, so that Parthenia, whose heart desired to see Timantes, took this occasion to colour her design: then she told my sister, that she would not eternally detain her from all manner of pleasures, but would have her go and see this Horse-race; and therefore (said she unto her) you shall have my Coach, and Megasides shall go with you to Paphos, and bring you back when the sport and Feast is done, that you may relate all the passages of it unto me. Amaxita hearing Parthenia say so, knew this was but a colour for her own voyage, so that seeming to think she was in good earnest, she told her, that she would not go unless she went also, and in conclusion, the journey was agreed upon, and Amaxita seeing the Horse-race, was her umbrage: But for all this she was full of anxious circumspections, such as were like to break off the voyage, and she alleged so many obscure and entangled reasons, to make me understand what cause she had to keep this journey close, as I wondered, and afterwards she made me swear a thousand oaths of secrecy, though heavens knows I knew nothing then but that she would go to see this Horse race? after which I went before to prepare her who was to entertain Parthenia, and order all things for the concealment of her voyage, my Mother herself knew not that my sister was at Paphos, and the matter was carried so handsomely, that none did so much as suspect any thing; and certainly it was not a business of difficulty, for since Parthenia told none at her own house whither she went, and since she arrived in the night, and the house where she lodged, very near the gate of the Town where she entered, it was not any easy matter for any to discover any thing, especially Parthenia having no women with her which stirred out. In short Sir, Parthenia came to Paphos hardly conceiting that she came to see Timantes; and when she was there, and Amaxita ask her whether she would perform her promise? she replied resolutely that she was not able to consent unto it, and that she would only see Timantes at the Race which was to be the next morning: It was in vain for Amaxita to tell her, her term was expired that day, for she had settled her resolution: Amaxita was in a hundred minds, whether or no she should acquaint Philoxipeses with the business: But for all that, she thought that the two Oracles which Parthenia had received, had made such a deep impression in her mind, that she would be extremely offended if she should have caused the Prince Philaxipes to have importuned her; so that fearing to incense her to no purpose, and thinking that if the Gods would have Timantes to marry Parthenia, they would find out the means to bring it about, she did not resist the Princess. However, the Horse-race was to be the day following, and all the Court would be there, and since the house where Parthenia was, was used to entertain Ladies upon such occasions, she who owed it could not deny those who came that day to lookout at the Windows, unless she should give cause of suspicion that some were there whom she would not have seen; therefore Parthenia was put into a Closet, whose Window was so dressed with boughs and leaves of Palm, through which one might see, and not be seen, and through which Parthenia saw the Horse-race, which was in a great plain before that window. I will not offer to describe this Race unto you Sir, it will suffice I tell you that Timantes appeared there in glory, and won the prize; But the most remarkable passage was, that Timantes imagining that the unknown Lady who filled him so full of curiosity, was one of the Ladies of Paphos, and that she would see this Race, did change his Motto, which he bore upon other occasions, which represented a Phoenix upon his shield, with this Motto, 
I stay until the Sun do burn me;  he now represented a Faggot set on fire by the heat of the Sun, which was Eclipsed, with these words, 
It burns me though it be Eclipsed.   
I leave you to imagine Sir, how the sight of this device surprised Parthenia, since the Closet wherein she was shut up, was very low, and the Race ending just under it, she might easily perceive this device upon the shield of Timantes; for all those who were of this sport, carried a Javeline and a Buckler. Parthenia no sooner saw this device, but she made the Application as Timantes would have wished, and told it unto Amaxita, who taking that opportunity, asked her with a smile, whether she would let that Sun which burned Timantes be always Eclipsed? As my sister did not speak altogether seriously, she answered her in the same manner; however, Amaxita observed, that Parthenia was very glad Timantes had not forgot her; & though this device might be taken as much for a common piece of gallantry, as a mark of love, yet it touched to heart Parthenia & obliged her: It seemed also, that Timantes then had a more melancholy air in his aspect, then ordinary, & she imagined that the reason perhaps was, because she had broke her promise with him; yet she could not consent to send him word that he should come into the Garden by a back door which was under the Walls of the Town, and speak unto her through the grates of her window: But Sir, it was not long that she was in this trouble, for the same Gods who brought them twice to meet, brought them the third time to speak together, and thus it came about. The Lodging of Timantes was so near Parthenia's, that the lodgings looked into the Garden; those with whom Timantes lodged having no Garden of their own, and being people of good quality, and intimate friends unto this Lady where Parthenia lodged, they obtained leave of her to walk there sometimes, and obtain the same liberty for Timantes: Timantes being melancholy & hot with Riding that day, he desired to refresh himself, and walk there that evening; and so he did, but all alone, and walked so long a time, afterward he sat down in an Arbour of Jessimine, just under Parthenia's window, and there stayed near an hour, finding much pleasure in musing in a place where the air was so fresh and sweet. The Sun was set, and hardly day enough to distinguish Flowers, when Parthenia opened her window over the Arbour of Jessimon, purposely to let in the sweet smell which every Summer evening in Cyprus ariseth from the ground: She no sooner opened it, but she saw the Moon arise, so that speaking unto Amaxita, but not naming her, That Planet, said she unto her, is not Eclipsed, as that in the Device of Timantes was; it was long only of yourself (said Amaxita unto her) that the Sun of him you named, shined not more bright than this Planet you behold. You may imagine, Sir, how Timantes was surprised, when he heard himself named, and thought it to be the voice of his amiable unknown Lady: Yet he was not sure of it at first; for since Parthenia spoke not very loud, he was in some doubt, but to be satisfied, he started up in all haste, and went unto the window gently; and he was no sooner there, but Parthenia answering to what Amaxita said, since it is the work of the gods to un-eclipse the Planets, said she, it is therefore unto them Timantes must address himself, if he would have them unvailed. I have already followed your counsel, Madam (replied Timantes) since doubtless it was the gods that brought me hither, when it is only long of yourself that the Sun which burns me, though Eclipsed, does not reduce me unto ashes if it should discover its whole light. When Timantes came near, Parthenia not knowing who it was, pulled down her hood, and retired from the window: But Amaxita, not so frighted as she was, knew it to be the voice of Timantes at first; so that this encounter more confirming her in her opinion, that the Gods would have Timantes and Parthenia marry, she gave him a compliment, and went unto the other side of the room to fetch Parthenia, who was very backward, but at last came unto the window: She did not trust unto the mask of night to hide her beauty; for since the Moon shone, neither she, nor Amaxita would appear before Timantes but with their hoods pulled down; so that he seeing she was not disposed to give him satisfaction: You must needs be, Madam, said he unto her, what I ever thought you, that is, the fairest person in the world, since you do not think night with all its veils can hide the lustre of your eyes. However, Madam, I beseech you show me that which I know already. Let me receive some consolation by hearing you speak; and tell me why you would have me be a debtor unto chance for my good fortune and happiness in meeting with you, after you had promised me the honour of talking with you, within eight days? When Timantes began to speak, Parthenia was infinitely troubled because she could not conceive how he should come into the garden, unless he knew she was there, and unless some had betrayed her; but when she heard him attribute the meeting unto Chance, she grew more confident, and her mind was in disposition to answer him with more tranquillity; yet would she know more precisely how he come into the Garden, & did so earnestly pres him to tell her, that he told her how it was, and moreover told her ingeniously without any dissimulation, that he did not doubt but to know unto whom he spoke, since she was in a house so near his; yet he did not know who dwelled in the house. But after Timantes had told all she desired to know: You see, Madam, said he unto her, that I tell you all I can, do the same I conjure you for me, and hide not your eyes so long, since certainly they carry their own light with them, I shall see them in spite of all obscurity. Therefore, for Heaven's sake, Madam, deny me not this favour; for I desire it more passionately than I did ever any thing in my life. I do protest, Madam, though I have seen all that's fair in Cyprus, yet I find not one amongst them all whom I desire to see again with half that zeal I do your beauty. I never appeared in all these public Feasts, but with all the symptoms of a man who adores you as he doth the gods, that is, without knowing you. Therefore, again, and again I implore you, Madam, not to deny my suit. Sir, said Parthenia, I would I could consent unto what you seem so earnestly to desire: But truly there is something so odd and fantastical in my face, that I cannot do as you desire, unless I should resolve never to see you again. But if it be so, that my conversation does not glut you, the time may come in which you may know who I am without losing me, therefore I pray content yourself at this time, that I suffer you to talk an hour of things indifferent. Of things indifferent (replied Timantes sharply) alas, Madam, 'tis more than I can do, and I must tell you, that I can speak of nothing but yourself, until you grant my desire. Our conversation then will not be very pleasant (replied Parthenia, & laughed) for you know so little of me, that we shall but still repeat the same discourse again, yet I am most certain, replied he, that I shall never be weary of it, & after I have told a thousand & a thousand times how I am charmed a thousand times with the excellency of your voice, and more with the graces of your wit, yet I shall still be delighted with repeating it again, provided you will not deprive me of the hopes of knowing you better hereafter then now I do. As long as you tell me nothing but that you have a strong desire to know who I am, replied Parthenia, I shall easily believe you; but that you should persuade me that as long as you are ignorant of who I am, yet that I should have any power over your soul, this is a thing I cannot easily comprehend, and yet it is that, if any thing, will oblige me to tell you who I am; for truly to trust all the secrets of my life unto one who has no affection to me, is a thing I cannot do; and therefore since it is impossible you should love me unless you did know me, and since you cannot know me unless you love me first, I pray you therefore after a disengagement of our promises at Amathonte, let us part for ever. Oh Madam, said he unto her, since the means to know you is to love you; I do now most infallibly profess it, for truly, there is some superior power which whether I will or no, does force me unto it, and to love you better than ever any I yet know: Yet Madam I must declare this withal, that since I must and do love you, my love is love and not friendship-love; for as for my friends of either sex, it is my mind that makes the choice, and I will know them long before I trust them; But it is otherwise with my love, for it is above my reason, it is the work of my heart, not of my Brain: Therefore Madam, since I sensibly find that inclination unto you, which I never found unto any else, I may well believe that this my inclination is love. For my part, said Parthenia, I am not of your opinion, because I am persuaded, that if you talk long with me, though you did not know who I was, nor saw whether I were fair or foul, yet perhaps you might affect in the degree of friendship; for by long conversation one may come to know the soul of that person they converse withal, and it is not impossible but friendship may spring from such acquaintance, though they are ignorant both of quality and face: But as for love Sir, it is of another nature, for it is beauty only which can claim the privilege of creating love. Alas Madam; said he unto her, how little do you know what zeal love is, if you think that Beauty is the only cause of it? do you not consider that if it were so, none but great beauties could create it? then two or three high beauties would engross all the Adorers in a great court: but on the contrary we see it otherwise, and find some women who have neither much beauty nor great wit, yet are loved by very complete men, and sometimes it is seen also, that the fairest women in the world cannot so much as win one single heart unto their service; and since so Madam, love is a powerful effect of that sympathy which operates whether we will or Noah; and believe me Madam, I beseech you, that since there are some men, yea and witty men, who love women who are not very fair, I may love you, whom I know already to be a great beauty, and whom I think to be very fair. However it be Sir, said she unto him, you shall not know it this long time: Is it possible Madam, replied he, that you should have any reason for doing so? Yes, answered she, a most prevalent one, such a one as if you render yourself hereafter worthy to know it, you will confess I do but what I ought to do. Yet Madam, replied he, though perhaps it concerns you not to let yourself be known here, yet dare you not trust my discretion? I protest Madam, that I never revealed unto any whosoever, any thing which you did forbid me: At Amathonte I know it very well (said she purposely to puzzle him) for I am informed as much from all your friends, and therefore knowing that you are able to keep a secret, I will trust you with one, and acquaint you with the resentments of my soul, to the end you may not be absolutely ignorant of me: Know then that I am very sincere, that I have a very tender heart, that my affection is a little Tyrannical, that I love virtue and honour, that I hate a divided heart, that I never will bestow my own, but where I am fully convinced by all imaginable ways, that I shall sovereignly reign in his heart that shall have it; that I am a mortal enemy to inconstancy, and to avoid that unhappiness principally, I neither desire to love, nor be loved: And more than this Sir, never ask me, for I assure you, that you shall not obtain it. Oh Madam (said he unto her) I beseech you do not subvert the universal order of the World; I have known the faces of all my friends a long time before I could know their hearts, and you would have me know your heart a long time before I must know your face; once more I beseech you Madam be not so preposterous in your actions, but after you have showed me your soul, let me see your fair eyes also. No, no Madam (said he after a little pause) upon second thoughts, I desire nothing but what you please, and I confess, I ought to be so well satisfied with this rich discovery of your divine soul, that I ought to desire no more: But Madam, to the end you may know my soul as you do my quality, my spirit, and my person, be pleased to know, that whatsoever I promise, I always perform; that where I love, I love till death, unless I be forsaken or betrayed; that I am none of those lovers who profess service that they may command; on the contrary, I would not be loved, but only to be the more captivated; I am not of their humour who value the wit of women, but only as an ornament unto their beauty; on the contrary, I value their beauty only as an ornament unto their minds; so that not building the foundation of my love upon so transitory a ground, but upon such as shall last as long as life; it will last as long also. If all this were true replied Parthenia, and smiled, you should not despair of knowing who I am: Since I believe all you say Madam, said he, I hope you will believe all that I say; you may inquire concerning me of all those that know me, but I can inquire of none but yourself: You might have said, replied Parthenia, that it was not permitted you to inquire of any body else: However Madam said he unto her, I beseech you permit me to talk with you here, until you have had a longer trial of my discretion: Parthenia then stayed a while before she answered; but Timantes was so importunate and full of urging expressions, that indeed she feared lest he should attempt more than she would have him, to know who she was; therefore beginning to speak: I am contented Sir (said she unto him) that you shall speak unto me for some certain dales, at the same hour, and in the same place, provided you swear unto me by Venus-Vrania, that you will not tell unto any whosoever without exception, how you met with the unknown person, nor reveal where she is; for if you do, I shall infallibly know it, and I shall no sooner know it, but I shall immediately resolve never to speak with you again, and take such a course as you shall never know me, and therefore satisfy yourself with thus much. Madam said he unto her, since it is in your power to make laws, and since it is my duty to observe them, certainly you shall be obeyed: But I beseech you Madam, what security can I have in your promise, that I shall see you here to morrow at the same time and place? My word (replied she.) But Madam, said he, you did not keep your word before, for the eight days were passed, and yet I heard not from you. To set your mind at rest replied she, I allow you to reveal all I have said unto you, if I be not here to morrow. After this, Timantes retired, and assoon as he was gone, she shut her window, and sent to desire her with whom she lodged, that the door which was towards her neighbour's house might be shut, lest Timantes should return and hearken what they said in her chamber; she had a desire to quit it, and did so, taking another one story higher, which looked not into the garden; moreover she charged a new all those that knew of her being at Paphos to keep it secret, no other reason appearing unto them, but that Parthenia had no mind it should be known that she quitted her solitude to come and see any public sports, especially, since she did not lodge with the Prince her Brother, whither she said she would not go, because there it was impossible her voyage could be kept secret; she had also this advantage, that the woman with whom she lodged, was easy to be deceived. But after all these orders were given, and that she was alone with Amaxita, she began to discourse of their adventure; one while was ravished with joy that Timantes had found her out, without her giving him any notice; otherwhiles one would have thought she had been angry with herself for seeing him at all; afterwards she had an imagination, that Amaxita gave him notice, that she was in the house, and that she had caused it to be told unto Timantes what was her humour; for indeed said she unto her, he hath told me all that I could desire a man should say, or all that he could tell me if he had known my mind. This aught to persuade you Madam, replied Amaxita, that it was the Gods who prompted him to speak, for as for my part, you know I never was out of your sight, nor have I any acquaintance with Timantes: I know it very well replied Parthenia; but I know so little how it should come to pass, that Timantes should find me out so often, and should tell me almost all my own thoughts, that you must pardon me, if I had and still have a little suspicion of you; and since I must confess the truth unto you as unto a second self, I think that I did not accuse you for it, to the end you might more powerfully persuade me, that it was the pleasure of the Gods Timantes should love me; and I did positively believe all he told me, for I could not stifle the only pleasant thought which I enjoyed since my solitude, which is, my hopes to find a man capable of a constant love. But Madam (said Amaxita unto her) why have you given orders contrary to the promise which you made of seeing Timantes again? The reason is, said she, because I would speak with him, but I would not have him know me, and because I thought you would find a way tomorrow that the garden door which I caused to be shut, may be open: For truly, until I am assured Timantes loves me, and assured by a thousand trials of his affection, I will not have him know yet who I am, or see me; but that which I would at present know, is, whether Timantes be faithful or no, and whether he hath not told our adventure, neither to the Prince, nor any other of his friends. After Parthenia had expressed herself, Amaxita (who knew that Antimaques was in love with Dorida, and that Dorida wished well unto me, and would trust me with any thing) told her, that if she would trust it unto my discretion, I should easily make a discovery of what she desired to know. At first Parthenia paused upon proposition, but afterwards she was so well persuaded of my fidelity, that she trusted me with the secret. In the mean time Timantes had his share in sorrow; for after he was entered into the house where he lodged, he enquired, not telling any reasons why he asked, what women those were in the house w●h belonged to the Garden where he walked, but he was amused when he was answered there was none but the Mistress of the house, who was well in years, and some servants which waited upon her: Yet he very well knew, that she unto whom he spoke, was neither a servant nor old; for her conversation assured him of the first, and her fair hands, her sweet voice, and handsome stature assured him of the second: Also the two other times which he saw her, he knew by her colours which she wore, that certainly she was young, though by it he could not know her quality: So that all these circumstances compared, they puzzled him exceedingly: He saw that all he knew of her was most admirable; and that she had such a c 〈…〉 ming Emphasis in the accent of her voice, as any thing sounded better in her mouth a thousand times then in any other: He found her to be of such sharp, so gallant, and easy a spirit and wit, that he was ravished with her discourse, and he believed she was of such a sweet nature, as could love most tenderly, grounding his opinion upon her hatred against Inconstancy. But for all this (said he, upon serious examination of the matter) there must needs be something that is very strange, either in the quality, or in the beauty of this woman; for why else should she be so nice as to hide herself from a man whose acquaintance she does not absolutely reject? And yet she must needs be fair, for I have seen as much as argues it; and she must needs also be a woman of Quality, her language, her spirit, her wit, her port, does sufficiently prove it, and convinceth me of these doubts. Whatsoever she be (said he) she does infinitely please me; and though it be only to know her name, I must obey her; for she hath told me, that if I do as she would have me, I may not despair of knowing it hereafter, and yet it is a very odd way, that I should know a thing by not enquiring of it; for he considered, how she positively told him, that if he enquired of any one, she could know it; and if ever she knew he enquired of any one, he should never know her, nor speak unto her; therefore his curiosity wrought such effects in his heart, as never did the like in any, since it hindered him from enquiring of that which he most earnestly desired to know: And truly, though Timantes had a most longing desire to ask all his acquaintance who this amiable unknown one was, whom he already loved, and hardly knew it, yet he durst not speak of it, so much as to Antimaques, lest he should blab it unto Dorida: So that he passed over that night and the day following in extreme impatience. In the mean time Amaxita, having sent me unto him, I became his spy, and I kept all the day where he was, and at night reported unto my Sister, how he seemed very reserved unto all those he met withal; that he refused supper with the Prince Philoxipeses, or to go into the Walks upon the Seaside, as he used, where all the Court did rendezvous, and that he retired unto his own lodging very timely, not rendering any reason why: So that Amaxita, told all this unto the Princess; she was exceedingly joyed, and more readily resolved, not to fail in her promise unto Timantes, and in order to that, appointing Amaxita to get the Garden door open, and Amaxita knowing how to do it unknown unto the Mistress of the house, all things were so handsomely carried, that at the appointed hour, Timantes came to the window of the low room where Parthenia was, under pretence of writing. But when Timantes came, he could see no more of Parthenia then before, but yet found her in a disposition to receive him more civilly, the reports which she had from me, giving her more satisfaction. She no sooner saw him, but she began to speak: I desire your pardon Sir (said she unto him) for being perhaps a hindrance unto your pleasure in walking by the seaside as you use, but that which comforts me a little is, that it hinders you from the sight of all those Beauties which use to walk there. It sufficiently appears, Madam (said he unto her, after he had most respectively saluted her) That I hoped for greater pleasure in your company then in the sight of all those Beauties you speak of, since I quitted them to come unto you; and therefore I need not any compliment upon that. But, Madam, since you know all passages of the world so well, it seems you are not unknown unto any but me. 'Tis true, Sir, replied she, but it is upon a reason so advantageous to you, that if I could now tell it, I am confident you would confess yourself obliged unto me for it: How much soever I am resolved to honour you, replied he, yet I can hardly think I am obliged to thank you for denying me a thing which I desire with as much zeal as the most violent Lovers do the enjoyment of their Mistresses. Yet it appears (said Parthenia craftily) that the conversation you had here yesterday, gave you no great satisfaction: For as for my part when I pass any night away in any agreeable satisfaction, there remains in my countenance all the next day a great impression of joy, whereas on the contrary, when I have been in any wearying company, melancholy sads my eyes at least four and twenty hours after it; and therefore if you be of my humour, I have cause to think you were weary of our conversation yesterday; for I know you were very melancholy, and reserved all the day after. 'Tis true, Madam, replied he, I was very reserved, but it was upon a reason quite contrary to yours, since truly I am never so melancholy as after a great pleasure. And this, Madam, which I enjoy in talking with you, is far from a serene delight, but on the contrary is so mixed with inquietude and curiosity, that it torments me as much as if you should deprive me of all hopes; for you know me, and all that I do, but I cannot so much as know your name, or what you are, though I desire it with such a zealous passion as will never let me rest till I be satisfied. But, Sir, said Parthenia unto him, methinks you should not be so vexed to know who I am, since if I be worth your thoughts, it depends upon yourself to know it hereafter, b 〈…〉 if you have only a bare curiosity to know me, doubtless than it will be nothing difficult to overcome yourself without that satisfaction, since you need only come no more hither, but forget me, and there's an end. Do you think, Madam, said he unto her, that it is such an easy matter to forget you? I think indeed, said she, that it is a harder matter to remember me then to forget me. No, no, Madam, replied he, do not deceive yourself, I shall never forget you, nor be contented ●ill I have obtained two most precious things from yo●, I mean, the sight of your beauty, and the knowledge of your heart. The knowledge of the one, replied she, must obtain the sight of the other; and therefore to teach you what you ought to do to obtain your desires, Know, that before you see me, or know who I am, you must win my heart, and therefore consider well with yourself, whether you can do all I would have you without knowing me; for that is the only way to win my heart. And since I am very sincere, and will not disguise my mind so much as my face, I will tell you, that for divers reasons which now I must conceal, I am resolved never to entertain any affection which is built upon such a fading foundation as Beauty and Riches are, upon which time and fortune have such influences: I would have one love me by a natural inclination, by the knowledge of my soul, my mind, and my humour: Moreover, I would have him love me either ugly, or poor, as I am, or may be: I would have him love none but me, and love me extremely, and always; to do nothing but what I would, nor to desire any thing but what pleaseth me; to obey me blindly, and without any repugnancy. I pray, Sir, after this, judge whether it be so easy as you think to enjoy the sight of me: For I shall never grant it but unto such a one as hath won my heart, and my heart will never be won but by such ways as I have told you. Moreover, sin●e blood and birth are not things so transitory, since neither time nor fortune can hinder me from enjoying them till death, I will confess unto you that the house from whence I am descended is ●s noble as any in Cyprus: But after all this, Sir, ask me no more; for you will ask in vain. Whilst Parthenia was speaking, Timantes was in a maze of thoughts: For as all Greece is full of certain women who make public profession of an universal Gallantry, and who do not confine themselves unto the limits of modesty, but who by prostituting their honours do enrich themselves; and there was some such in Cyprus, so his fears sometimes suggested unto him, that Parthenia was one of them. But he found she spoke in such an air as persuaded him to the contrary; and when she considered that she was in the house of a woman of Quality and Honour, and that it is not the custom of such kind of persons to hide their beauty, he repented of his former thoughts: And when Parthenia had told him all the qualification which she required to be in a Lover, he found his own humours described, and told her immediately, that he would engage himself unto all she had propounded provided she would promise him, that after she had made trial of his constancy, she would give him her hear, and show her face. And these promises passed on both sides in appearance, rather as bare compliments and pieces of Gallantry, than any real promises. And though there was already a violent inclination in the heart of Timantes to love Parthenia, and a most strong disposition in Parthenia to love Timantes, yet since both of them were persons of great wit and reason, they thought this so odd and unreasonable, that they could not resolve to speak seriously, and many days passed before they could understand the real thoughts of each other in earnest. In the mean time before Timantes went away, Parthenia made him swear not to speak a word of any passages, nor to inquire of her, but that he should stay until she gave him assurance of her affection, and let him see whether she was fair or foul. The truth is, Sir, Parthenia's wit did so charm Timantes, and she had such an absolute power over him, that he durst not tell so much as Antimaques his adventure, lest he should tell it unto some other. And it was easy for him to conceal it, because Antimaques being in love with Dorida, he was continually every night with the Princess Policrite, so that Timantes could be at his appointed times unperceived; yet for all this, he endeavoured by one of his servants to suborn one of that Lady's house where Parthenia lodged, to tell who it was which lay there, but all businesses were so handsomely and closely carried, that nothing could be known. In the mean time, since he feared that if this unknown Lady should know how he broke promise with her in the enquiring who she was, she would cast him off, he laboured by all means to stop the mouths of those that were enquired of, and to oblige them unto silence: so that indeed Parthenia never knew it: 'tis true, he was every way so observant, and faithful, that she had reason to be contented; for notwithstanding all my observant eyes over him, both in all his words and actions, I could never report any thing unto my sister which could displease Parthenia, and indeed he much altered his manner of living, for his only design being to find out this louly unknown one, and being persuaded that she was some Lady of Paphos, who came to that house only to talk with him, he went from visit to visit, not staying long any where, hoping still to discover by voice this Lady whom he so much desired to know: but all his enquiry and visits were in vain, for he could not find her; and Timantes became more deeply in love with Parthenia then any of her former lovers who had seen her: He grew also much more unquiet in his mind, and certainly was tormented more than other lovers use to be; sometimes he would so complain unto Parthenia that she would pity him, and sometimes he would so dote that he made her laugh: For my part, (said he unto her when the Moon shined clear, and when he pressed her to lift up her hood) I cannot endure you should so long deny me what I ask, not that there is any necessity of your Beauty to make my passion endure, for since it begun without it, it can continue without it: But that which makes me I cannot endure you should use me thus, is, that you tell me you will let me have a sight of you when I have won your heart, and perceiving that you are more and more careful to hide it, I have cause to think I am further off from making that illustrious conquest. You would have it at too cheap a rate (replied Parthenia) if you should so soon win it, and therefore that you may the more esteem me, I will hold you off a little longer. In the mean time I beseech you Madam (said he unto her) let your words form your Image, that I may adore it, and which passing from your mouth into my heart, it may there remain, until the real substance drive it out: for truly Madam, I wander all the day long, from house to house, from Temple to Temple, and every where to seek you out: my imagination fancies your beauty every day in a hundred several Ideas: sometimes I see you fair, sometimes brown hair, sometime fresh complexion, sometimes pale, sometimes I am persuaded that you have sweet, languishing, and compassionate eyes, and sometimes I think you have sprightly and sparkling eyes, such as kindle fire in the souls of all those that look upon them: sometimes I think them grey, and sometimes black, and not knowing what they are, I still equally adore them, what ever they be: But I beseech you Madam, tell me only whether they be fair, or black, or grey, or blue, or what they are? When you have told me (replied she craftily) what colour you desire them to be, than perhaps I shall tell you which they are. Timantes at this was puzzled, for he durst not tell which he desired, lest he should hit wrong, nor did Parthenia positively promise him to tell which they were, so that not daring to answer precisely, he began to accuse her of inhumanity, and she interrupting him accused him of weakness; for said she unto him, I perceive by your own words, that you would have me fair, because you say your imagination fancies me to have the fairest eyes in the world, and consequently I have cause to fear, that if I be not so, you will change your opinion of me. Oh Madam, said he unto her, I beseech you do me not so much wrong as to think, that though you be not fair, that I shall love you less: but however, as long as your eyes do not belly my imagination, I must still think you are the fairest person in the world: and I beseech you, why should I not proportion your beauty unto the excellency of your soul and wit; and therefore if you will be sure of my fidelity, show yourself as you are, and if after that, I do not adore you still, though you should be never so ugly, then hate me as much as I love you. Love is a most fantastical passion (said she unto him) Those who are in love with any beauty, do profess that it is the soul they love, and that they only desire the possession of the heart, and not the beauty: That this is the limits of their hopes, and sum of all their desires. Yet I see Love is of such a nature that it slights all that it enjoys, and prizeth that which it doth not enjoy. Fruition gluts desires, and if so, you have more reason to thank me then complain against me: For truly, I begin where others end: I have confessed unto you, that I esteem you: I have told you that I should be glad to have you love me, and I have not forbidden the hopes of being loved: You have consented not to ground your affection upon beauty, I have discovered my soul unto you; I have taught you which way one may obtain my heart, and I never told you it was invincible: But after all this you complain, and press me to show you my face. Go, go, Sir, keep it within the limits of our conditions, unless you would have me break off with you. There is so much charm in every word you speak, replied Timantes, that you still augment both my love and my curiosity: And therefore I most humbly beseech you, Madam, Give me leave to beg this favour upon my knees. Let it content you that I attempt not violent courses to know who you are, and that I have so much power over myself as not to ask all my acquaintance about the Court. But, Madam, that I may still continue in my obedience, and inquire of none else, I beseech you give me leave sometimes to ask yourself; And be not offended, I conjure you, if I importune you with my prayers and impatiencies. Did I not infinitely love you, I should not be so desirous: But since I love you beyond all expressions, I must needs entreat you, and press you, to let me know whom I love. I know there are a rich Mine of Beauties in your mind; all that I can see of your person is most admirable; The thoughts of your heart do ravish me: There is some secret charm in your conversation, which I never found in any other: You do so powerfully and pleasingly captivate my spirits when you speak, that I think I could look upon you, and not perceive whether you be fair or foul, you utter not a word, which pierceth not my heart as soon as my ear. But for all this (said he, and smiled) me-think I do not know you yet sufficiently, and my curiosity is so violent to see your face, as well as your heart, that I cannot choose but beg the favour, and to trust unto my love and discretion. Whilst Timantes was talking thus, Parthenia bethought herself of a very odd way to make trial of his Constancy; therefore beginning to speak unto him, and seeming to yield unto part of his desires, I am content, said she, since I see you so much desire it, not to deny you all you ask: But since I am resolved not to confer favour upon favour, and to loaden you all at once, I will not let you know who I am, only I will let you see my face in open day; but upon condition that you shall not speak unto me in the place where you shall see me, which shall be, if you please, to morrow morning at a little Church close by the Gate. There I will be just two hours after the Sun is up: I will wear the same clothes I did, when you saw me at the Feast of Adonis: I will sit by the second Pillar upon the right hand, and will lift up my hood as soon as I see you, to the end you may satisfy one part of your curiosity. I beseech you, Madam, said he unto her, why may you not now show your face? I know it is too dark to see you as I would, but it will not hinder me from seeing you better to morrow. I see you have forgot one of our conditions, which was, to desire nothing but what I shall please. How great soever your power is over me, Madam, said he unto her, it cannot extend so far as to bond my desires: And all I am able to do, is to hide them from you. After this Parthenia parted from Timantes, not consenting to his desire, telling him, that if he did offer to speak unto her, or to follow her to morrow morning, she would never see him again. So that Timantes promising all she desired, he went away full of hope and joy that he should see her in the morning who had filled him so full of love and curiosity. But as those hopes, whose causes are love, are very restless, so he could not sleep all that night, but did rise so early, that his men wondered, and the more, because they saw him dress himself, as if he were to go unto some Ball, or great Feast, though it was only unto a little Church where few of any quality ever resorted, and so early as women of Quality were hardly awake. But Parthenia was as busy as Timantes was impatient; for she was so careful to make sure of the heart of Timantes, as nothing should ever after be able to take it from her; and therefore she resolved to try whether he could love her after a belief that she was not fair: And in order to that, she dressed a woman of hers, who was well bodied, and about her height, in the same habit that she wore at the Feast of Adonis; and since the woman had never been at Paphos before, she could not be known. But, Sir, be pleased to know, that this woman had one of the ugliest faces in the world, for all the parts of her face were so unproportionable, that one would have sworn they were never made one for another: So excessively ill favoured, that I never in all my life saw an object so displeasing as the face of this woman. In the mean time, to the end that Timantes might be the more deluded, Amaxita followed this counterfeit Parthenia, as if she had been her woman, and they went unto this Church in the Lady's Coach with whom Parthenia lodged. But for the more security, Parthenia would have my Sister send for me, to be in the Church, and to fall in with Timantes as soon as he came in, to the end that he might keep him from speaking to her, whose sight was enough to blast a Lover, giving me orders to do as occasion should require, and to speak what I thought fit to keep Timantes from discovering the fallacy. Yet Parthenia did not intend to keep Timantes long in that belief of her he should see, but on the contrary resolved when he had seen how, he would speak unto her after this innocent imposture, to let him see that evening the woman with her, to the end that he might know his error, and to root this terrible Image out of his mind. To be short, Sir, as this device was fantastically plotted, so was it cunningly executed. This woman went unto the Church earlier than th● hour appointed, that she might be there before he came: Yet it was not above a quarter of an hour, for he burned in such impatience to have a sight of her he loved, that he was also there before the hour appointed: But as I was there before him, and knew the business, I saw him enter earnestly and hastily: He was no sooner there, but he looked towards the place where Parthenia told him she would sit, and saw a person of a handsome stature waited upon by one who indeed was the same he saw with Parthenia at Amathante. Moreover, he saw she was in the same place nominated, and that she was in the same dress and habit which he had formerly seen; so that he did not at all doubt, but that she whom he saw was his beloved unknown Lady: And though there was a little difference between the height of this woman, and that of Parthenia, yet the fancy of Timantes was so prejudicated, that he did not observe it: He advanced hastily to the place where she was. But as it was covenanted betwixt Parthenia and him, that he should not speak unto her in that place, so he set himself down some or four paces upon the left hand over against her, that he might the better see her: He was no sooner set, but Amaxita advertised this counterfeit Parthenia, who knew not Timantes, to put up her hood, which she immediately did, lifting it up so cunningly, that he could not see her hands; for Parthenia so ordered her. But, Sir, I beseech you imagine how Timantes was amazed, who fancying the Idea of an admirable beauty, saw the ugliest vizard in the world: His wonder was so great, Sir, that it appeared in his face and all his actions; his colour went and came twenty times in a minute: he congeed towards her with a lowering look in spite of his teeth; and was so frighted at such a monstrous object, that he did not so much as strive to hide his amazement, nor had he the least suspicion of any delusion put upon him: So that being extremely troubled at this adventure: Oh ye just Gods (said he to himself, as he told me afterwards) why did you put so sweet a voice, and so rare a mind into such an ugly body? And why did ye join such an admirable stature and body, with such fair hands, unto such a witch's face? But how comes it to pass (said he immediately after) that this person should know all the niceties and delicates of Love, so w●l as she doth? Some one sure has loved her, else how could she ever know them? For my part (said he, and sighed) had I seen her face before I had known her mind, I should never have made her so much as my confident, and far from making her my Mistress; and I think I should have fall'n from love to aversion. Had she been but indifferent ugly, or one of those women who neither attract nor loath: Had she any thing in her physiognomy which promised either wit or goodness, I should have some inclination to love her, and zealously adore her. But what do I say? Can I forsake her who hath the most charming wit, and the most divine soul of any woman in the world, and who hath most sensibly alured my heart? As Timantes was thus discoursing with himself, with as much sorrow as Amaxita took pleasure in observing him, and continually looking upon her whom he thought to be Parthenia; This woman forgetting Parthenia's order not to show her hands, did pull her hood down, and did not hide them; so that Timantes espied them, when he was perhaps ready to resolve upon the breaking off with Parthenia, though he would never confess it; he saw they were not the same snowy hands which he saw both at the Labyrinth, and at Amathonte, and also at the window where he talked with her. He saw, I say, that they were thick and short, and not at all white; so that recollecting himself, he knew he was deceived, and was so glad, that there appeared nothing but joy in his face, as there appeared sorrow before: Then was he sorry that he did no better gloss his first surprise, but to repair it, he resolved to go to her who had only the habit of his beloved unknown Lady, saying, that it was not unto her that he made a promise not to speak unto in the Church, nor to follow her, and since she had broke her word with him, he was not obliged to keep his with her. Just as he was fixing upon this course, the counterfeit Parthenia went away with my Sister, and perfectly undeceived him in her walk, since she had nothing of that Majestic port which Parthenia had, that she was of a handsome stature. In the mean time, since I saw he followed her, I met with him, before he could overtake her. Sir (said I unto him, as I accosted him) this Lady whom I saw you salute, is she of Crete? No, (replied he, and was very angry that I interrupted him in his design) I believe she is of Paphos: and because I thought her to be some woman of quality, therefore I saluted her though unknown. I thought Sir, said I unto him, and smiled, that it had not been the fashion to salute Ladies who are unknown, unless they be some superlative beauties; but I see your civility goes farther than ours. I have something more to say then you have (answered he, and still went on) for I am more inquisitive than you are, and would gladly know who this Lady is: Certainly Sir (replied I, not seeming as if I designed to hinder him) your curiosity in this, is like theirs who have a desire to see Monsters, and who never think they have seen all Egypt, if they have not seen those dangerous Beasts which devour passengers: However said he, I would gladly know who this Lady is: Sir, said I still to keep him from following, I believe it will be an easy matter to know that, for I know the Coach which brought her to the Church: I know it also said he to me, but I know not her that is in it: I will promise you to inquire replied I, and to give you an account. In the mean time, the counterfeit Parthenia and my sister took Coach, and Timantes durst not speak to them in my presence, as he intended, so fearful was he to incense his beloved unknown one: But when they were gone, and Timantes saluted them at parting, he put me in mind of my promise, and desired me to perform it, colouring his curiosity with such poor pretences, as I had much ado to keep from laughing; I knew well that he only desired to know her, that he might be acquainted with her who sent her: and you may well think Sir, that at that time I would promise him any thing: After this, I went home with him, and presently after that, I went to give my sister an account of what had passed. Since she said that Parthenia did this only as a trial of Timantes his fidelity, she would not acquaint her with the extreme sorrow that appeared in his eyes, when he saw the face of this ill favoured woman, but told her only that he seemed to be surprised, that notwithstanding he saluted her most civilly, and would not follow her when she went out of the Church, never telling how the woman undeceived him by showing her hands, so that Parthenia thinking that Timantes imagined her to be as ugly as that woman, began to repent her of that imposture, fearing he would not return any more according to the ordinary appointment; for though she did this only to make Timantes think she was not fair, yet she could not endure that he should have such a horrible imagination of her, so that she waited for the evening with a restless impatience, sometimes she entertained herself with those joys she should have if Timantes did return, since than it was an infallible sign that ugliness would not alter his mind; otherwhiles she feared that he would not come at all; so that tossing h●r thoughts continually be ween hopes & fears, she passed away the day with as much perplexity, as Amaxita did with pleasure, in remembrance of all she saw in the mind of Timantes, unto whom Parthenia commanded me to tell, that I could not learn who that Lady was whom he saw in the Church: However, night being come, Timantes did not fail to come unto Parthenia according to his custom. But she had no sooner opened the window, than she began to speak unto him: Sir, said she unto him, are you yet satisfied? can you find a heart to love such a one as you saw this morning in the Church? To show you Madam, said he unto her, and smiled, that I can always take delight in seeing you, I beseech you lift up your hood which hides you, for since I saw you in the morning, me thinks you should conceal yourself no longer: Why Sir, said she, do you think you saw me? Indeed I do not, said he unto her, and therefore I am come to complain against you for breaking promise, and consequently disobliged m● from keeping promise with you: No, no, Madam, said he, never deny the truth, for if you will deceive me, you must not only give your habit unto her who did so scurvily personate you, but you must give her your hands also, your air, and your port: yet I confess that at first, the confidence which I had in your sincerity, deceived me, and my own eyes betrayed me; but yet my heart did quickly find it was not you. However (said she unto him, and confessed the imposture) I pray you tell me unto what height you hated me, when you thought that I was she you saw? I do protest Madam, said he unto her, I had not one thought which could offend you, and I was more angry with the Gods than you: But yet (replied Parthenia) what thoughts had you at that time? Since you will have me confess, replied he, I will tell you, that I murmured against the Gods, for placing so many opposites and contrarieties in one person: yet I murmured only for the love of you; I had respect unto your honour, and not mine own; and I had not one desire but what was for your advantage. Ah Sir, you are not sincere, (replied Parthenia, and interrupted him) but yet I wish you were, and would really tell me, whether you would not have forsaken me, if I were such a one as you saw? Since you desire I should lay open all my heart unto you (answered Timantes) I must tell you, that if you were such a one and could not speak, I think I should have much ado to continue my affection: but if on the contrary, you were such a one as I saw, and would speak always as you do, I would eternally follow you. But Sir, replied Parthenia, I would not have you dissemble, nor speak in raillery; but in very serious earnest: I will Madam, said he unto her, and the more exactly to obey you, I do protest before the Gods who hear me, and as I hope they will assist me, that what I say is most really true; and I assure you, Madam, my heart is so absolutely tied unto you, that I will never disengage myself: yet I must confess Madam, that if you be as fair as I think you are, I believe I shall perhaps love you a little more than I do; but still I must confidently assure you, that though you be not, I shall not love you less. Ah Sir, replied she, this cannot be, for since you can love me more if I were fair, you must needs love me less if I be not: yet Sir, this is most certainly true, that though perhaps I be not ill favoured, yet I shall be: and therefore if you cannot love me unless I be fair, I pray you cease loving me now; for I ever told you from the first beginning of our acquaintance, that I never can endure a heart which can change, I would have one should always love me alike, and if I should love you one day, I should love you ever, which can never be, if you can love me less; and indeed how is it possible one should endure without high anger, and just resentment, that one should fall back from love to lukewarmness, to see one's self slighted when one should be most esteemed: and yet Sir this is ordinary, and happens a thousand and a thousand times, and will do again; and the cruelty of the business is, that they both become equally insupportable; and if there be any difference between the slighter and the slighted, between the party who falls off from love, and the party who is constant, certainly he that falls off is least to be pitied: this inconstant doth certainly lose some pleasure, in losing his affection, but he can easily recover it in others; whereas on the contrary, a constant person in losing the sweets of being loved, doth at the same time lose all the sweets of his life, and is overwhelmed with all sorts of sorrows; and indeed, how is it possible he should ever think of any thing that hath the name of a diversion, how can he be able to live unless to revenge. Therefore Sir consider seriously, whether or no you can be constant, do not make me more miserable than I am, in making me hope for a good which I shall be deprived of. I do protest unto you Madam, said he unto her, that I think it an absolute impossibility that ever I shall love you less: the thing which most perplexeth me, replied Parthenia, is, that when I ask any assurances of affection, the most inconstant man in the world does think he shall never be inconstant, and he will tell me the very same things that the most faithftll lover 〈…〉 n. Madam, said Timantes to her, since there is no ways to make sure of the time to come, but by what is past, and what is present, I deserve not to be punished as an inconstant man, because I express my real and true thoughts by the same words that a perfidious lover expresseth his; therefore I beseech you, be pleased to make trial of my constancy, by any manner of way your wit can devise: but then Madam, I beseech you first, before you put me to the teste, tell me who you are, you must discover your fair eyes unto me, and stuff not my imagination with the Idea of a witch, as lately you would. Then Sir, Parthenia thinking that perhaps Timantes was not fully undeceived of the opinion which he had, that she whom he saw in the Church was really herself, and therefore she would have that woman speak to him open faced, so that Timantes seeing them both at once, might plainly see, she was not the same he saw in the Church. But assoon as Timantes saw her, and she retired again, he began to speak: No, no Madam, said he unto Parthenia, you need not show me this woman twice, thereby to undeceive me, my error lasted not a minute, and my heart did not long fancy an image that was unworthy of yourself. You tell me too much to be be-beleeved, replied Parthenia; and to say truly (added she and smiled) I cannot altogether blame you, though you should not tell me the whole truth at this time; for truly I can hardly endure to let this woman serve me, she is so ill favoured, and therefore I ought not to think it strange, that another should be backward to serve such a resemblance as she hath for a Mistress. After this, their conversation was sometimes mingled with a thousand sincere protestations of eternal affection; another while with pleasing joys of mind, which made both Timantes and Parthenia know, that they were worthy of each other, and that they loved more than they would speak of. In the mean while, since the most difficult things in the world unto a lover is, to keep locked up in his heart all his adventures, and never tell them unto any; Timantes was of the same mind, and therefore altering his intentions of hiding it from Antimaques, lest he should be telling it to Dorida, he resolved to acquaint him; and on the contrary thought it an easy matter for one lover to keep close the secrets of another; so that after he had left Parthenia, and was returned home, he stayed until Antimaques was returned from Policrite, to the end he might acquaint him with all the adventure, and ask his counsel which way he should satisfy both his love and his curiosity: yet before he would open unto Antimaques, he made him promise more than once, never to speak of it unto any whosoever, and then he told his adventure: At first Antimaques hearkened unto it as a pretty pleasant story, and as a very merry and fantastical adventure; not thinking that his friend was really in love with one he never knew: But when he heard him aggravate his inquietudes, he knew that his curiosity was of an amorous nature, for which he began to chide him: But when he perceived that Timantes was the more serious, he began to pity and laugh at him. Then Antimaques asked him pardon for wondering at the oddness and novelty of the adventure; and told him that he could not believe it to be any more than a bare piece of gallantry, and not a real passion: But since I perceive you are really in love, I do infinitely pity you; and so much the more, because one of these things must necessarily be, either she whom you love is very fantastical, or else she is foul, or else a woman of inferior quality, and I pray heaven she be not some thing worse than all these, and that you be not cozened. Ah cruel, and unjust friend (said he unto him) it seems you know her whom I adore. I know her as much as you do (answered Antimaques) for it was I who first showed her unto you in the Labyrinth. 'Tis true, said Timantes, that you then saw her handsome stature and proportion, her fair hands; you heard her voice, and her excellent wit, yet all these are nothing in comparison of what I know: For I find such a charm in her conversation as ravisheth me; and though she will not tell me who she is, yet I can discover as much as assures me of the greatness of her mind, of the nobleness of her birth, the generosity of her soul, and also the beauty of her face: For there is such a kind of charming air, and gallantry in her speech, as any one may know she is fair, and never see her. Alas, Sir, (cried Antimaques) I cannot choose but pity you, unto what a cruel point are you arrived? And I cannot choose but pity you the more, because I do not see which way I should serve you, since you forbid me to speak of it unto any, and consequently I cannot inquire who she is you love: And yet I think that if you will follow my counsel, you may perhaps have some light of that which you desire to know. Timantes then asked him, what he would advise him to do? I perceive, replied he, by what you have told me, that you have employed all your arguments to persuade her you love, to let you know who she is: You have used your best rhetoric and reasons; you have earnestly entreated her; you have added complaints unto your reasons and prayers, but I do not see you have tried the eloquence of Liberality. Love would have offerings and sacrifices as well as the rest of the gods; and therefore if you will be ruled by me, find out a handsome pretence of presenting a rich present unto her: If she be such a one as you think her, she will refuse it, and not show herself after it: Or if she be not such a one and fair, she will take it, and let you see her. If it be the first of these, you have discovered a new beauty in her soul; and if the second, you have at least satisfied your curiosity: And however, if she resist your persuasions, your sighs, and your presents, you will reap so much satisfaction as to see that I shall not condemn your passion. Though I know very well, replied Timantes, that Liberality is inseparable from Love, yet I cannot choose but fear to incense the person whom I love in presenting it. But if I do follow your counsel, the present must be so rich and magnificent, as that she may judge of the measure of my love by it. Then Timantes resolving to follow the counsel of Antimaques, he chose amongst all his Jewels that which was most rich and rare, and the number out of which it was taken was not small: For as persons of his Quality use always to carry many with them when they travel, so Timantes being very rich and magnificent, he had a great abundance of Jewels: And after he had taken one of them which he thought to be most worthy of her he loved, and put it into a very magnificent box enameled with gold, he resolved to present it unto her the next morning with such a compliment as might make it acceptable. Then after he had talked awhile with her of several pleasant Subjects, Timantes who was accustomed to complain, and knowing that nothing pleaseth beauties better than to complain of something, he began thus; How long, Madam, must I love you (said he unto her) without giving any testimonies of my love? When shall I obtain so much liberty as to do such things as love useth to inspire into such as are under his empire? Did I know you, and were it permitted me to manifest my passion, I should be as forward in my expressions as the most passionate lovers, and as magnificently you should be courted, with as many Music entertainments as there are days; I should ere now have made three or four public Feasts; the Ball should be continually left with you, and you should have seen whether we know how to treat in Crete, as well as they do in Cyprus. Moreover, since I am confident that I have many Rivals, I should let you see that perhaps they were not worthy to be preferred before me: I should follow, and court you in all places: I would endeavour to be a friend unto your friends, and an enemy unto your enemies: I would not look upon any but such as you favour, and I should find out a thousand ways to let you see the grandeur and merit of my passion: But as things are, what should I do to express my love? You may obey me, said Parthenia, and that's enough; for in doing so, I shall think myself as much obliged as by all you tell me you would do if you knew me. That is so little, replied he, that I cannot believe it will oblige you at all, Madam, or that you can so much as esteem me for it; for thereby you cannot know whether I be generous or no, you will be ignorant whether I be liberal or courteous. I may have a thousand virtues or vices which you can never see; and therefore, I beseech you, Madam, let me not be confined unto such narrow limits, but give love leave to appear some way or other: To make it appear in my eyes, answered Parthenia, it must be hid from the eyes of all others: At least, Madam, said he unto her, give me leave to regulate my whole life according to your directions, and that I may ask your advice in all my actions. As for that, replied Parthenia, I shall most willingly consent unto it; for I desire nothing more than to know your heart. Then, I beseech you do me that honour, Madam (said he unto her, and presented unto her the enameled box in which the Jewel was) as to tell me to morrow whether this which I present unto your fair hand be worthy to be offered unto a great Princess; for I design it unto one who certainly merits to be a Queen. At the first Parthenia did not think that it was intended unto her, but perhaps unto Policrite, or Aretaphile, and therefore without any difficulty she took it, yet she no sooner had it in her hand, but she changed opinion, and thought it intended unto her. This imagination did swell her heart both with anger and curiosity: The first of these, because she thought Timantes did not think of her as she would have him; and the second, because she would see whether Timantes would give it unto her; therefore seeming as if she never thought to have any share in his liberality, she told him that she would not stay so long as to morrow before she gave him her opinion of it, but would go unto the candle which was at the further end of the chamber, and see whether this which he would give was worthy of himself; for certainly (said she, most obligingly) if it be worthy of yourself, it is worthy of her you intent it for whosoever she be. In saying so, she went to see what it was which Timantes put into her hand, with intention to restore it unto him the same hour; and he also went away as well as she, the better to show that he would not take it again: So that Parthenia hearing him walk, went back to the window purposely to call him, but he was already gone out of the Jessimin Arbour which was under the window: So that after she had stayed a long while to see whether he would return, and hearing nothing of him, she shut the window, and went to look upon that which Timantes had left with her. She did not look upon it alone, for she showed it unto Amaxita, who was not a little ravished at the lustre of it; but Parthenia did less regard all those Pearls and Diamonds than she did a Letter which she found with them in the box, which was thus written.  
TIMANTES unto his admired unknown one.  
MADAM,  
SInce there is no King but receives Tribute from his Subjects, permit me, I beseech you, since I am not only your Subject, but your vassal, to give what I can, though not what I ought. As you are my Goddess, I must present you with offerings and sacrifices; and as you are the Queen of my heart, I must pay you Tribute. Therefore I beseech you to accept of my offering, not to let you see that I am liberal, but to show you that I am not covetous. I beseech you do not think that I have any thoughts of purchasing your heart by it: For I know the price is inestimable, and that all the Gold, Pearls, Diamonds, and Rubies which the Sun ever produced since it shined upon the Universe, is not able to pay it: And if ever I shall hope to be so blessed hereafter as to enjoy it, I must have recourse unto my tears, and sighs, and prayers, and not unto Pearls and Diamonds, and such like. However, I most humbly beseech you, be not offended at my boldness, nor take it ill from one who having given you his whole heart, may give you what he thinks inferior to it also: And therefore, I beseech you do not hate me for it, nor look more coldly upon me to morrow, unless you will overwhelm with sorrows your most Adorer  
TIMANTES.  
After Parthenia had read this Letter, she gave it unto Amaxita, who reading it also, could not sufficiently admire the liberality of Timantes, and told Parthenia, that if his love were measured by his gift, he loved her better than ever any could. I know not, replied Parthenia, whether he love me as much as you talk of, but I am sure he does neither sufficiently esteem me nor know me at all: For it seems he thinks to blind my eyes, and win my heart with Diamonds, as children with toys; he thinks me of a weak mind, and mercenary soul; and yet I must confess he is something excusable; for my manner of dealing with him is so fantastical and extraordinary, that I ought not to think much of him; nor am I resolved to treat him rigorously, but will only let him see he was mistaken in his thoughts that I would receive a present of any importance from him; and that he may not doubt of my generosity, I will not only refuse what he offers me, but I will present him with a gift, and a gift of that magnificence, as he may conjecture at my quality and riches; for the Gods have not menaced me with misfortunes, though he who is to marry me do know that my birth and quality is not base. Parthema was as good as her word; for she did not only put those things which Timantes gave her into the box, but she put also into it the Case of a Picture set with Diamonds of a most considerable greatness. She did not fear they would be known to be hers, though Timantes should show them unto all in Paphos; for she lately got them made in Salamis, purposely to put the Picture of Policrite in it, which she took out before she sent it unto Timantes: Also she answered the Letter of Timantes in another hand than she usually writes: After which I procured a trusty person to carry this box unto him in the morning betimes: and the matter was so well carried, that it was given unto one of Timantes his servants whom he put much confidence in, to give unto his Master: This was as well as Parthenia desired; For the servant of Timantes knew not the man who gave it unto him, nor took any notice of him, nor ever was like, for he was not one of Paphos, but departed the next morning into his own country: So that Timantes when he awaked was strangely astonished to see that upon the Table which he thought was in the hands of his unknown Mistress. At first he thought his eyes deceived him, or else that he dreamt, and was not well awaked. But his servant telling him, that a man whom he knew not, nor would tell his name, nor would stay until he awaked, did charge him to give it unto him, than he thought it to be true. But since he imagined that his admired 〈…〉 own one had sent back his present, he was exceeding sorry, and so much the more 〈…〉 e he feared that since she was so generous as to refuse a gift of that value, she 〈…〉 be of 〈…〉ed at him: Therefore he opened the box with much impatience, not to s●e whether all his Jewels were there, but to see whether she had returned an Answer unto his Letter. In the mean time he was infinitely astonished to see upon the tops of all his own Jewels, that Rich Picture Case which Parthenia sent him, and which he was certain was not his: He no sooner saw it, but hoping her Picture was within it, he never considered the beauty and richness of it, but opened it in all haste; but in lieu of seeing what he so extremely desired, he saw these words written in the place of the Picture, 
This Case will serve hereafter to put my Picture in, if you render yourself worthy of it.   
Ah most cruel Lady (said he, as I heard afterwards) will you never be weary with making trial of my patience, and let me see what I so much adore? After this he found a Letter containing these words.  
To the too Inquisitive TIMANTES.  
SIR,  
I Am so fully persuaded that Liberality is a virtue, and a virtue most Heroic, that I will never do any thing which may make you think me guilty of its opposite vice; and therefore I have sent back your rich present, and send it without any sharp reprehensions: For since you do not know who I am, I ought not to be offended at that which would be injurious to me if you did: Yet I must complain a little, that after so much converse with you, when I did not hide my heart as I did my face, you should not have so good an opinion of me, as to think that I would refuse your offer: But I will not break with you for this, though for no other consideration but to give you cause to know me better. However, to repair your fault, I enjoin you to keep this case which I send you, without showing unto any; for if you do, you shall never see my Picture nor myself.  
As Timantes ended the reading of this letter, Antimaques entered, who found his friend much taken up with this new adventure, which he related unto him, notwithstanding the prohibition of Parthenia, thinking it no treason to make that man his confident, whom he loved as a second self: But as Timantes was astonished, so Antimaques was much more, having no reason after this, to doubt neither of the quality or generosity of this unknown Lady. For indeed the present which Timantes gave her was so rich, that it was an argument of a great soul to refuse it, and the Case which Parthenia sent him was so magnificent, that she must be both rich and liberal who gave it: so that Antimaques after this confessed, that Timantes had reason to prosecute his adventure, and to try how far it would go; he moved him to show this Case unto some who perhaps might know it, and thereby to learn where it was made: he moved him also to show her Letter, thereby to find out the writer by the writing: But since Timantes observed in discourse with his beloved unknown one, that she knew all passages in the World, he durst not put it to the venture, but desired Antimaques a thousand and a thousand times, not to reveal his secret unto any, yet he had sometimes a great desire to speak himself unto the Lady at whose house Parthenia lodged: but she had so often told him, that if ever he enquired of her, she would then never see him more, that he durst not attempt it. In the mean time, he waited for night with much impatience; yet he was much unresolved what to do with the picture case which Parthenia sent him: for since it came from the hands of her he loved, he had no will to part with it: on the other side, it was so rich that he thought it were to be less generous than she, if he did not restore it; so that not knowing what he should do with it, he carried it unto the place of meeting: but he was not so happy as he hoped to be, for Parthenia to perplex him the 〈…〉 re, sent Amaxita to tell him, she could not see him that night; and as Timantes asked 〈◊〉 the reason, she gave him some cause to think by her answer (though she told him not so expressly) that it was because she was preparing herself to go unto a general Ball, which the Princess Policrite kept the next day: so th' 〈…〉 Timantes ravished that Amaxita had told him this ere ever she was aware, began to resolve not to fail being at this meeting, and there to talk with all the Ladies, so that he made no question but to find her whom he looked for: but since he hoped to pick something out of Amaxita, he talked with her a long time, and since he collected by her discourse that she was of Parthenia's Cabinet counsel, he told her a hundred things to tell her, and began to aggravate his sorrows, that he could not resolve to restore the picture Case which she sent him, and which he thought too rich to keep: yet (said he unto her at the end of their discourse) I do conjure you to tell that excellent Lady, I will restore the Case that day she gives me her picture; but to the end she should not think I keep it out of any covetous inclination, I will within this four days proclaim a Horse-race, and will give that for the prize which I presumed to offer unto her, and so I may safely keep that present which otherwise might make me suspected of covetousness. Amaxita used all her Rhetoric to persuade him to an alteration of his resolution, but all in vain: However they parted, agreeing that the day following at coming from the Ball, he should come unto the usual place of meeting. After this Timantes was all hopes and joys, for he believed he should know this unknown one by her voice, or at least he would set such spies about the house whither she would come into at her return from the Ball, as should tell him who she was. Then he prepared himself with all care possible, and went unto the Ball so timely, that the Hall was not made clean when he came there. In the mean while I was advised by Amaxita to observe Timantes very close, and to render her an account a little before the Ball ended: I was so forward to do the Princess of Salamis any service, and considering that in this I might also serve Timantes, and the Prince Philoxipeses, who I knew desired the Marriage, that I was almost assoon in the place of assembly as he was: For my part, I never had so much pleasure in all my life, as I had that day in observing Timantes, for there did not one beauty enter, which I perceived by his eyes, he did not wish might prove his unknown one; and not one entered which was foul, but he feared that was she, and I saw so many several turbulencies in his countenance, that after I laughed at him, I could not choose but pity him: That which did most stick in his stomach was, that there were at this assembly three or four women of Paphos who were very rich and very ill favoured, and except the Queen Policrite, Timoclia, and one more, he saw not one beauty there as was likely to send such a present as he received. In the mean time he knew it was not one of those four, for he knew it by their Tones, and saw moreover it could not be the two first, who were both married and virtuous; and he knew it could not be the other two, for they had both of them declared Servants, and Servants whom they did not hate: Thus not knowing what to think, he went from place to place, talking to all the fair ones, and foul ones, one after another, but could not find her he looked for: then as he was walking from one to another, a Lady of Amathonte, a high beauty and one whom Policrite received as a person of quality, did enter; she being wonderful fair, and he having never seen her before, though she had been three days in Paphos, he looked upon her with hopes that this was she he loved; and hearing her speak, he thought he heard something in the sound of her voice which resembled his unknown one, so that being ravished with joy, he waited till the compliments between Policrite and she was passed, and she seated in her place; and she was no sooner set, but Timantes according to the freedom of our Court, talked to her, to the end he might move her to answer him, but this Lady being one of that countrywhose custom is not to talk with any she knows not, had much ado to answer him: Besides, she was as dull as she was fair, and when she did answer, it was so confusedly and little to the purpose, thas Timantes hardly understood what she said. However, his imagination being forestalled, he thought her stupidity and silence, was only affected, and that she would disguise herself, therefore he continued on, still hoping she would speak more; but long did he stay before he could get any thing from her, unless a yea or no: yet at last he found his error, for a man of Amathonte coming to her, she told to him so freely after the rusticity of her country, as fully undeceived Timantes, and since there was not one woman of any reasonable quality in all the assembly which he had not spoke unto, or heard speak, he sat down, but so sadly, that he minded nothing which passed in the company; yet they forced him to dance, but it was so carelessly, and far from his accustomed garb, that Policrite could not choose but chide him. In the mean time, since I thought the Ball would quickly end, I went out, to render an account of my observations unto my Sister, and told her exactly to the least circumstance all his actions, naming all the principal Ladies of the assembly which Timantes talked with, not forgetting the Lady of Amathonte: I told her also that I thought there were men about the house watching who entered, but I did not think they could know me, because it was very dark: After I had told all I knew, I went out at another door than I intended at. But Amaxita had no sooner well informed Parthenia of all passages, but Timantes came unto his accustomed place. However, Parthenia the more to deceive him, wore many Jewels that night more than usual; for though it was dark, yet there was so much dim light from the Moon, the Stars, and Candle which was at the further end of the room, as might make the Diamonds sparkle: so that Timantes knowing that Parthenia was better dressed then ordinary, he thought then that she had really been at the Ball: though he knew he had spoken unto all the Ladies, and knew that none of them was her he talked unto then: Moreover since he understood from his spies, that there entered none into the house but one man, he thought again she was not at the Ball: so that he was driven to such a cruel necessity, as he knew not what to think: But to complete his amazement, Parthenia no sooner saw him, but not giving him so much leisure as to speak. Well Sir (said she unto him) what think you of the spirit of the Amathontine Lady, with whom you talked longer then with any Lady of Paphos? do you not fear that all the Ladies of our Court should hate you, for preferring a Lady of that Country before them? and do you not further think I may well be Jealous? I pray heaven's Madam, said he, that it be the last of these, for since that passion cannot be in your heart, but it must arise from another, I should think myself very happy; for than you must love me, and let me see you, and consequently I must not be driven to the cruel necessity of seeking you out every where, and finding you no where, but here where I cannot see you with a full satisfaction. But Madam, I beseech you tell me sincerely, whether you were at the Ball or no? Is it not a sufficient answer, said she, to tell you all that passed in this meeting? and than she told him all that Amaxita had related unto her, and so puzzled him, that he knew not what to think. But yet (said she unto him) who would you wish me to be of all the Ladies you saw with Policrite? I wish you were none but yourself, replied he, and that I could know who you are, for if you use me thus long, I shall infallibly lose my wits and reason. Very well (answered Parthenia and smiled) I begin to think so, and that which makes me most fear it, is, that unless you had been out of your wits and reason, you would never have offered me such a rich gift, which I could not accept of, without a stain unto my virtue. You may think it from another conjecture Madam, (said he unto her) for after you had sent me such a glorious example of generosity, and sent me back my gift with another more rich than mine, yet I keep it, and keep it without rendering you thanks: yet I shall keep it no longer then until you are pleased to honour me with your picture, which you have not forbidden me to hope for. So did my woman tell me, replied Parthenia, but I must tell you, there are many things to be done, before I give you my picture, for I will be first well assured of your heart for ever; but until then, I pray tell me, who do you think of all the beauties you have seen in Cyprus, does in your judgement best deserve the prize? You have so accustomed me to make no use of my eyes (said he unto her) that I think them to be very ill Judges of beauty; for since I think upon none but that of your soul, and mind, and cannot see yours, I cannot tell whether I should love the fair or the brown. Parthenia did then exceedingly press him to tell her whether he liked the beauty of Policrite or Aretaphile better, purposely to prepossess him with what he should hereafter find hers to be; but do what she could, he could not clearly express himself, because he knew not the complexion of her he spoke unto, but striving to divert the discourse, he told her, how all the men and women in Cyprus (except one woman, whose judgement was opposite to all others) told him that all the beauty he had seen was nothing comparable to the beauty of the Princess of Salamis: Parthenia hearing herself named, did think at first, that perhaps Timantes knew who she was, but she was mistaken; for Timantes going on with his discourse; 'Tis true, said he, I do believe this singular woman as much as I do all the rest; especially because she is one of a good wit. Wit, replied she, is not so necessary to judge of beauty: But there is a necessity of Justice and Impartiality, and without envy at the beauty of another. But I pray tell me, said Parthenia, who is the woman which speaks thus in disadvantage of the Princess of Salamis? Timantes thinking of no inconveniency by naming this Lady, needed not many entreaties: But he had no sooner named her, than Parthenia began to wonder at her injustice. I beseech you, Sir, said she unto him, do not judge of the Princess of Salamis and her beauty by the reports of this woman, who without reason hates her. But if she be so amiable as they s●y she is, replied Timantes, how is it possible she should hate her? No, no, Sir, replied Parthenia, do not deceive yourself, you must never judge of the beauty of one fair one, by the reports of another beauty: For I am confident that amongst a hundred, you will not find two that are just, but every one will think to add glory unto themselves by detracting from others. The truth is, said Timantes, I did wonder very much this woman should be so opposite unto the judgement of all others, concerning the Princess of Salamis. I pray tell me, said Parthenia, what she did say in particular of her? For I take the greatest pleasure in the world to see envy and jealousy work in the spirits of those who are inspired with those humours. Since it is your pleasure, Madam, said he unto her, I will confess, that after I had the honour to meet you the first time in the Labyrinth, and could not find you in any place after, nor none could tell me who you were, I had an imagination that you were this Princess whereof we speak: Yet I durst never reveal my thoughts unto any but this Lady, who was my indifferent good friend; but she kept me not long in that error; for she told me the Princess of Salamis, had a shrill voice not at all sweet; that she was gross and ill made; that she had white, but not handsome and fair hands. The truth is, said Parthenia, There is no certain conclusions to be made by the reports of others; and since I love Parthenia very well, but do not love her who speaks against her, perhaps I shall be partial, and favour the one, and wrong the other, than I would have you see the Princess of Salamis, and be judge yourself. In the mean time I am beholding to you, for thinking me to be her; for though she were not as all report her, yet my obligation is not the less, since your imagination fancied me to be so, and not as that Lady described her. 'Tis true, replied Timantes, That I fancied your Idea like that of the Princess of Salamis, be she as fair as she can be. However (said Parthenia, exceedingly desiring to know what Timantes would think of her beauty) I pray do me so much favour as to see that Princess. How can I see her, Madam, replied he, for the Prince Philoxipeses asked her leave to bring me into her desert, and she would not honour me so far: And to tell you truly, Madam, all my curiosity is confined unto yourself, and I desire to see none else: Yet I should think myself obliged to you (answered she) if you would see her. Once more, Madam, said he, pray tell me how I can see her. You may easily do it (said Parthenia) for I know she goes almost every day unto a little Temple of Venus Urania, not above thirty furlongs from her house, towards Amathonte. I do know the Temple, said he, for it was showed unto me as I went unto the Adonian Feast. Since so, said she, I pray you go thither to morrow; for I confess I should be very glad if the beauty of that Princess should please you, to the end you may hereafter suspect the reports of that Lady who I love not, and may put her out of the Catalogue of your friends. Alas, Madam, said Timantes, there is no necessity of my seeing the Princess of Salamis, for I know enough from you to make me discard that Lady from the number of my friends; for since she does not please you, she cannot me. No, no, said she, I would not have you do● so out of complacency, but out of reason, therefore I conjure you to do as I desire. But, Madam, said he, if this Princess be as fair as reports make her, methinks you should have some care of my heart, in exposing it unto so great a danger: at least you should show me your eyes, that I may with them defend myself against hers. On the contrary, said she, since I do intend never to give my entire affection until I am first most certainly assured of yours, I wish the Princess of Salamis were a thousand times fairer than she is, that she might be a stronger trial of your constancy: For since I value not a perfidious inconstant heart, nor would be loved for beauty if I had it, but would have good security against all those evils which beauty causes, I should be glad you saw all the beauties in Cyprus, to the end I might not fear it. In conclusion, Sir, Parthenia ordered the matter with so much art, that Timantes promised to go next morning and see whether the Princess of Salamis were at that Temple, not having the least suspicion of the truth, nor thinking she had any other design in her commands, but only that she loved to be punctually obeyed: So that he prepared himself for it: And after he went from her, Parthenia gave all requisite orders for his journey in the morning, and so did she: Amaxita writ a Letter unto me to send a Coach by break of day; for Parthenia would not make use of the Ladies with whom she lodged, because Timantes knew it. So she did rise betimes in the morning, and dressed herself in her richest habit, and neglected nothing which might set herself out with advantage: When she was all ready, and had looked the last time in her glass, Amaxita asked what was her design? not being yet satisfied with all the reasons she had told her, I would exactly know, said she, what Timantes will think of me, which I can never do, if I show myself unto him, and discover who I am. But, Madam (said Amaxita unto her) since you do not fear that your beauty will attract the heart of Timantes, why do you tell him the truth? No, replied Parthenia, I have not changed my mind, but still fear the menaces of the gods, and these fears are my reasons why I go so fantastically to work. But for all that, Madam (said Amaxita) I am confident Timantes will think you the fairest that ever he saw; and I believe all the excellings of your spirit, your soul, your hands, your stature, and your voice will have much ado to hold out against the glory of your eyes; and therefore if you think you cannot marry him, if perchance he should be in love with your beauty as well as with your soul, never expose him unto that danger, but seek out some other way to make trial of his fidelity. Yet Parthenia would not hearken unto Amaxita: But not well knowing what she should think if Timantes should commend her either too much or too little: She went into the Temple so early, as she was in no danger to be known in the Town: She went also by a blind way, to the end that she might come as if she came from Salamis; for so her Desert was called: But since she feared that if Timantes did see her in the Temple, he would know her by her stature: as soon as she came; she offered her sacrifice; and afterwards seeing that Timantes was not come, she went unto the Sacrificers house under pretence of resting herself, whose house was close by the way as one comes from Paphos. So that being in a Parlour, she leaned against the window talking with Amaxita, whose hood was up as well as hers; for in favour of their design the Sun did not then shine. She had not stood there a quarter of an hour, but Amaxita espied Timantes coming towards the place where they were, having with him only one servant, and she no sooner espied him, but she showed him unto Parthenia, just as Timantes turned his eyes towards them, but it was so far off as he could not discern her beauty, and therefore he advanced with no haste; but when he was so near▪ Parthenia as to distinguish that attracts in her face, he made no question but she was the Princess of Salamis, and was so surprised at the lustre of her beauty, that he changed colour, and confessed to himself, that the Idea which he had fancied of his beloved unknown Lady, was not fairer, nor so fair as this Princess: he went then as gently as possible, he gazed upon her with attention full of rapture, and bowed unto her with most reverend respect, and did not go into the Temple until he had seriously contemplated upon it, and meeting with one of the sacrificers of that place going into the Temple, he stayed and fell into discourse with him, purposely for a pretence of looking longer upon her; at first he intended to go unto her as upon a visit, knowing she was not ignorant he was the friend of the Prince her Brother, but having only one servant with him, and being in a course and common habit, he could not find a mind to be so near a person of that Beauty and Majesty, who struck so high an admiration and respect into him; therefore since the sacrificer went into the Temple, and he durst stay no longer there, he went into the Temple also, hoping still he should see her again at his coming out: But Parthenia having no intention he should speak unto her, or follow her, assoon as she saw him gone into the Temple, she took Coach and went towards the place of her solitude, yet she went out of it again, assoon as she was in a wood about two furlongs distant from the Temple, and since she would not come unto Paphos until it was night, nor meet with Timantes in the way, she took a blind way through the Forest which went unto the house of one who was acquainted with my sister, and there she passed away the rest of the day. In the mean while Sir, since Parthenia had observed that her beauty had produced its customary effects upon the spirits of Timantes, to wit, admiration, and tu●bulencie, she knew not whether she should be glad or angry, yet she desired to please Timantes; but for all that, when she considered the menaces of the Gods, she could not choose but be sorrowful, that her beauty had any influence upon the mind of her lover, and feared, that since he was so sensible, he would not be so 〈…〉 nstant, as she wished and hoped. However, (said Amaxita to her and laughed) though I 〈…〉 ants do change the object of his passion, yet is he not inconstant, because still he loves none but you: I assure you, answered she, that if he should, I should be no less jealous of myself then any other: Oh Madam (said Amaxita and interrupted her) it is not possible you should so scrupulously rely upon the Oracle, as to have any such thought, and be jealous of yourself; for would you have Timantes have no eyes? or in having be worse, and think you not handsome? Truly Amaxita replied she, you put me to the question, for I should be sorry to seem ugly in his eye, and yet I would not have him dote too much upon beauty, and if I should find that he prefers the Princess of Salamis before his unknown Mistress, I do confess I should be very sorry: Truly Madam, replied Amaxita, I cannot believe you, and I am confident, that maugle all the menaces of the Gods, you do not think as you speak, since certainly it is not possible any beauty should be an enemy unto her own charms. But Sir, whilst Parthenia and Amaxita were thus talking, Timantes was entertaining himself very sweetly with the rare beauty which he had seen. Is it not possible would he say, to join the spirit of my beloved unknown own, to the beauty of her I saw? Alas, alas, I would it were, that I might be the happiest man alive, in the enjoyment of the most accomplished person in the world; but that would be too much, and if there were a woman in the world so fair as the Princess of Salamis, and whose spirit were as great and sweet as hers I love, there would be more Altars erected unto her, then either unto Venus-Anadiomena, or to Venus Urania: Be contented therefore with what the Gods have given unto her whom I adore, and wish only that she be but a little less fair than the Princess of Salamis. Timantes was not long in these thoughts, for his hot desire of seeing this wonder of beauty again, moved him to go out of the Temple almost assoon 〈◊〉 came into it: But sore was he grieved, to understand from those that looked to his horses, that the Princess of Salamis was gone, he asked which way she went, and followed a while, but since she was in the wood before he took horse, he could not overtake her, therefore he returned towards Paphos, so ravished with the beauty of this Princess, that he almost feared his falling in love with her. In the mean time, since his unknown Lady did not prohibit him, from speaking of this journey, he told every one where he had been, only concealed the cause; and the chiefest motive which induced him so to do, was, because he could not forbear commending the beauty of the Princess of Salamis, which he knew he durst not do to the height, when he spoke with his unknown one at night, for he knew that it was the greatest indiscretion in the world for any lover to commend the beauty of another before his Mistress, & the most of all in him, because his Mistress would not have him so enamoured with the beauty of the body as the mind, so that he did nothing but extol the beauty of the Princess of Salamis, unto all the men he met with that day, he told it unto Philoxipeses, Policrite, and Dorida; and he went himself to tell that Lady who so discommended this Princess, that she knew not what beauty was; he had not the least suspicion that this Princess was his unknown Lady, supposing it a thing impossible that a woman so fair, could hide her beauty from a man that was in love with her, especially from one she hated not, and whom she wished eternally to love her: for being ignorant of the Oracles which the Princess received, he could not guess at the true cause of her so fantastical and extraordinary proceedings: None could think it strange that the Princess should come so near Paphos as this Temple, and not come into the Town, because it was her ordinary humour. But Philoxipeses and Policrite murmured a little that she did not send to know how they did, imagining no other reason, but that she had no desire to have it known she was there, for fear she should be invited to come into the Town: However, night being come, Timantes went unto his accustomed place of meeting, being resolved to commend the beauty of the Princess of Salamis, but not too highly for the reasons aforesaid: He was no sooner there, but Parthenia asked him, what he thought of the Princess of Salamis? I think she is very fair replied he, and I think that she who told me otherwise, did her much wrong, for truly if that Princess had a mind answerable to her eyes, and a soul as fair as her face, questionless she were a rare woman: But though she be only fair replied Parthenia, is it not possible to love her? Yes (replied he, and smiled) if those that look upon her were all eyes and no spirit: No, no, said Parthenia, do not dissemble, I see you have a mind to answer me according to my thoughts, and not your own, and to tell me rather what I would have you say, than what you think: Suppose I did Madam, replied he, is it a crime to be complacential? Compliance said she, ought not to go so far as to dissemble one's thoughts, it is enough if it submit unto them, and too much to hide them; true delight consists in conformity of thoughts, and not of words only; and truly I am more joyed to see one whom I love, think just as I do, than I am to see them who for my 〈…〉ke force themselves in every thing to a complacency: certainly there is nothing more sw 〈…〉 and pleasing then this, sympathy of spirits, thoughts and opinions; therefore never strive to find out what I would wish you to say, but be clear and ingenuous, and speak your own thoughts, for you cannot deceive me. Madam, replied he, I do ever speak sincerely unto you, you ask me whether the Princess of Salamis be fair? I answer you that she is very fair, am I far from the truth? Parthenia being then angered to think her beauty had not so much pierced the heart of Timantes as she thought, began to speak in a little higher tone: You commend the Beauty of the Princess of Salamis very coldly (said she unto him) that it is plain to see, you do it out of complacency only, or else out of subtlety to persuade me your heart is not sensible of beauty. 'Tis most true Madam, replied he, I am at this time sensible of nothing but your spirit and soul, and all I know of you: and therefore Madam do not wonder (said he, thinking that he could not please her better) if I be not so much charmed with the beauty of this Princess, as I should have been, if I had not been in love with you: and truly Madam, my desires of returning hither were so hot, that I did not spend much time in contemplation of her. This Sir was the conference between Timantes and Parthenia that night, Timantes hardly daring to commend the beauty of the Princess of Salamis, though Parthenia seemed to desire it, and Parthenia not well knowing whether she should commend him for it, or no: But after he was gone, she resolved with herself, and concluded that her beauty did not charm him, and was mistaken when she thought to see nothing but signs of admiration in his face and actions: No, no, said she unto Amaxita, certainly I am deceived, and all that which I thought to be admiration is only astonishment; Timantes questionless is surprised, but it is to see that the world should so much commend me with so little cause, certainly he loves beauty in another shape than that which the Gods have given unto me; there is something in my face which distastes his eyes, and will certainly make me to lose all that my spirit hath gotten. Madam (said Amaxita unto her) you said you would not have Timantes love you for your beauty: 'Tis true said she, but however, I would not have him hate me because he finds something in my face which does not please him: I know Amaxita (said she) that this I say seems unreasonable unto you, but I cannot help it, for had you tried as I have done, what a monstrous misery it is to be slighted by him who once adored me, you would excuse all my imperfections and weaknesses, and would confess, I had reason to try all ways possible, which might make me know the heart of Timantes. However Sir, Parthenia was not long in the belief that her beauty did displease her lover, for as it was my chance to be in three or four places where he had so highly extolled her, the next morning I acquainted my sister, and she Parthenia with it, and since I thought there was never any danger in telling a beauty that she was extolled, I told the story with as many aggravations as I could, and therefore said, I think Timantes was as much in love with her beauty as her spirit. Madam said Amaxita to her, it may truly be said that Timantes loves two and is not inconstant, since he loves but one person, and by giving his heart to one he does not take it from the other: and it may be further said, that you have a Rival whom you cannot hate, for I do not think your spirit can envy the power of your eyes, nor your eyes oppose the conquests of your spirit. Parthenia harkened unto all that Amaxita said, and never gave her answer; but after I was gone, and she had commanded me to keep an observant eye still over Timantes, she did complain of him almost as much for extolling her beauty too high unto others, as she did for extolling it too little the night before unto her, and finding that he did not speak sincerely, she was very sad, yet not so much as when she thought that she did not please his eye, and when Amaxita asked her what security she desired of the heart of Timantes? she told her that she did not know herself: Truly Madam, said Amaxita to her, I cannot see you can either expect or desire better assurance than you have, that Timantes is the man whom the Gods would have you to marry; for he began to love you without the power of your beauty, and not knowing whether you were noble or rich: he still loves you, and knows not that you are fair, and loves you in a place where there are a thousand shining beauties, who do all they can to engage his heart; you would have persuaded him that you were ill favoured, and indeed he had great reason to suspect it; yet for all this he continues loving you, you have also employed your own beauty to make trial of his constancy, and you see he is faithful to you, that he dares not commend her in your presence, for fear certainly he should thereby give you cause to think that he can be sensible of beauty. All that you say is true, replied Parthenia, but yet for all this, if Timantes can suffer his heart to be drawn from his unknown Mistress, by the charms that are in the beauty of the Princess of Salamis, though his unknown Mistress and this Princess be all one, yet I have reason to fear, that if he can quit my spirit for my beauty, he may hereafter quit both my spirit and my beauty, for some other person, unto whom the grace of novelty will give advantage; so that to have better assurance of the heart of Timantes, I will yet try what absence will do, which questionless is the strongest test of all others, therefore I will return into my solitude, and return without so much as bidding him adieu, fearing that if he should know, he would set so many spies about the house, that he might follow me. Amaxita did oppose her design, and persuaded her as much as she could to let Timantes know of her departure, but all in vain, for she would not hearken unto her; yet she could not depart the next morning, because some orders were to be taken for the privacy of her journey, so that she saw Timantes once more, whom she chid for the excessive applauds which he gave the Princess of Salamis, and for not speaking unto her in the same terms when he told her his opinion; and therefore, said she unto him, I have cause to believe that they who accuse you of being in love with her had reason for it: but I pray you if it be so confess it unto me, I conjure you unto it, to the end I may not engage myself in any further affection, and that I may be no impediment unto you in that conquest: but Sir deceive not yourself, you will not find so easy a matter as may be you think; I know Parthenia, and I know she is harder to please then I am, and more delicate; so that in all likelihood, if you quit me for her, you will lose me, and not find her. Timantes hearing Parthenia say so, did protest that he was not in in love with the Princess of Salamis, nor ever would be,: You promise me now said she and smiled, more than I ask, and it will be sufficient if you only assure me you do not love her at present; as for the time to come you are a little too bold with it, if you speak for it with as much certainty as for the present. But Madam, said he unto her, since I am not at present in love with the Princess of Salamis, it follows of necessity I never shall be, for as I do not seek to see her, so though I would I cannot, since she hath already denied me that honour, and therefore it is not likely I ever shall: I do confess (since you know I said it in other places) that the Princess of Salamis is the fairest that ever my eye beheld, but since I find a greater beauty in your mind and spirit, then in her face, and since I am resolved to serve you all my life, and never see her again, it doth of necessary consequence follow, that I do not love her, and that I shall for ever love you. However once more let me tell you, said Parthenia, it is good to submit unto the providence of the Gods, for the time to come: Why Madam? said he, have you not told me a hundred times that you would not value any affection which you were not sure would be eternal? so that you had an eye unto things to come, aswell as things past and present. However it be, said Parthenia, I would not have you answer equally for the present and the future, lest you make me suspect both. After much such discourse as this, Timantes retired, and the next morning Parthenia returned to her solitude, leaving a letter with me for Timantes, with orders to convey it so secretly unto him, that he could not suspect or guess how it came; but since the difficulty was, to find out a way how Timantes might answer, and not know which way his letters went. I was a long time before my invention could hit on it, but at last I found out a way to convey Parthenia's letter to him, and his answer to her unknown to him by whom, and thus I went to work. I sent the first letter of Parthenia to Timantes as I s 〈…〉 t the Jewels, that is to say, by an unknown person, who gave it unto his servant; but I added a note unto this letter, counterfeiting my hand as Parthenia did hers, by which I intimated unto him, if he would return an answer, he should give his letter unto one who in the morning early should be at the statue of Venus in the great Temple of Paphos; and to the end that the matter might be carried with more safety, I employed one of my friends, and made him believe, that it did highly concern me (upon a design which hereafter I would impart to him, when I had commission for it from a person who had absolute power over me) to receive some letters which none should know by whom I received them, nor for whom I received them; and I did so entangle the matter, that he could never know whether I negotiated for myself or for another, or whether it concerned matter of State, or matter of Gallantry, so that he not knowing whether I transacted in things concerning love or ambition, he did as I desired him, and I giving him full instructions, and he being both ●●ld and trusty, the business was done aswell as I could wish: He delivered the Letter which Parthenia left at parting, and which did extremely surprise Timantes, and it was thus indicted.  
To TIMANTES.  
SIR.  
IN this resolution which I have fixed upon, to try whether the affection which you profess unto me, will abide absence, and surmount it, I think you are a little be holding unto me, for sparing you the labour of bidding me adieu, think, if you will that I spared myself that labour, for since I hide my face from you, it is but just I tell you that which my eyes would have done if you had seen them. If during this absence I understand you continue faithful unto me, and that really you are not in love with the Princess of Salamis to my prejudice, perhaps at our next meeting you shall know who I am. In the mean time remember it is not permitted you to inquire who gives you my Letters, nor who receives your answers; know that it concerns your good if you love me, and mine also: Adieu.  
This Letter did not only surprise, but extremely grieve Timantes, and he was so passionately both in love and sorrow for her absence, that he was nothing but a lump of Melancholy, and so continued many days. The greatest augmentation of his inquietudes, was, that it was not permitted him to inquire of that which he had the greatest desire to know; and that he was not able to keep within those straight limits which were prescribed him. He went himself to carry his answer unto my friend who expected it in the place which I directed him to; but he was exceedingly surprised when he saw him to be a man he knew not, and a man of Quality: He offered any thing unto him if he would tell him unto whom he was to give that Letter, but all in vain, insomuch as he was driven to the necessity of conjuring him not to tell he asked the question. So that my friend giving me the Letter which could have no suspicion, I sent unto Parthenia, who found these words.  
The unfortunate and miserable TIMANTES unto his cruel unknown one.  
MADAM,  
IN thinking to spare me the sorrows of bidding you adieu, you have drowned me in them. What can you think, Madam, will become of a man who adores you, who knows not who you are, nor whither you go, but is ignorant whether you will ever return for him, or ever return at all? For heaven's sake, Madam, have some compassion upon my constancy, and never fear that the Princess of Salamis will dri 〈…〉 you out of my heart: I do adm●●e her, I confess, but I will not love her, as I told you before, I will not see her. In the mean 〈…〉 e, I beseech yo●, put not my patience to the utmost rack, unless it be your 〈…〉 gn to mak'st despair, or unless you would put me to death not only for love, but also f 〈…〉 riosity. 〈…〉 urn, Madam, I beseech you, if you be gone, or show yourself unto me if you be not: For truly I cannot imagine where you are, or who you can be; and I am persuaded that if your inhumanity last a little l●●ger, I shall not know myself: Yet I am most certain, that nothing can prevent me from being the most faithful of your Lovers, and the most zealous of your Adorers,  
TIMANTES.  
This, Sir, was the answer which I sent unto Parthenia, who writ many times to Timant 〈…〉 and he also unto her: Yet since the beauty of this Princess who he saw in that little Temple which is in the way towards Amathonte, did make a deep impression in his heart, he spoke of her very much; so that Amtimaques who was in love with Donida, and would have been even ravished with joy to see him married unto Parthenia, he always was hinting unto him that was only this Princess that he could marry with honour, and not with an unknown woman, who perhaps had no beauty, or at least was of some fantastical disposition. Timantes then did remember him of his promise not to condemn his passion if the unknown Lady did refuse his present: But Antimaques answered that when he said so, he did not think there was in Cyprus any match for him so advantageous as this of this Princess: but now he understood that the Prince Philoxipeses did really wish that he should marry his sister, he could not be any longer in his first opinion: For I pray you Sir said he unto him, do but compare your unknown Lady with Parthenia a little; as for her quality, it is most certain it cannot be more high, nor so high, for there is none in all the 〈…〉 e that is comparable unto her; as for her beauty, according to your own description, the comparison must needs be as unequal; as for her virtue, ●ou know what high reputation she hath; and as for her spirit, the world knows no equal, and would you prefer you know not who, before her? Doubtless I would replied Timantes, for I love her, and she does not hate me: as for the Princess of Salamis, though I could love her, and though her ravishing beauty should force me to be perfidious, yet it were very doubtful whether she could love me; for I have heard say she is of a nice spirit, and few men can please her, though many not without some merit have courted her, therefore I pray you talk no more of this Princess, whose Idea is but too deeply imprinted already in my imagination. In the mean time, Dorida, who for the interest she had in Antimaques, desired that Timantes might stay in Cyprus, used all her arguments to persuade Policrite, that she would importune the Princess of Salamis to quit her solitude; so that unknown to Parthenia, Philoxipeses, Policrite, Dorida, and Antimaques, plotted her marriage with Timantes: and truly it was happy they did so; for otherwise, I think Parthenia would never have made herself known unto Timantes; for since her reason was not quite prejudicated, she would often think her proceedings with him so fantastical, that she could not believe Timantes could really esteem her; and as an effect of this opinion, she did so firmly resolve never to discover herself, but to break off absolutely with him, that Amaxita quite despaired of ever altering her. In the mean time, Philoxipeses knowing that Timantes thought his Sister very fair, he thought that if he could make her like him, aswell as he liked her, the design so much desired might happily take effect: But since she could never like Timantes unless she saw him; and since Philoxipeses knew not that she knew him aswell as he did, he resolved to carry him unto the Princess, and to surprise her in her solitude: But Timantes excused himself saying, he respected her more than to force her to see a man whom she did not think worthy of that honour, and had denied it before, adding further, that it would be a means to make her hate him: so that Timantes refusing to go in a civil compliment, Philoxipeses knew not what to think: But Antimaques who was acquainted with the passage, told it unto Dorida, to the end she might tell Policrite, that the reason why Timantes would not go to see the Princess of Salamis, was, because he would not expose himself unto the danger of falling in love with one who perhaps would be insensible of him: So that Dorida preparing the mind of Policrite, and Policrite the mind of Philoxipeses, it was plotted and resolved amongst them, to get out Timantes under colour of taking a journey of pleasure, and in lieu of carrying him unto the pretended place, to carry him unto the Princess: But since the Prince Philoxipeses knew the humour of Parthenia, it was thought expedient to gain Amaxita; therefore he made a visit unto the Princess, and negotiated the matter so dexterously, that she found an opportunity (whilst Parthenia was dressing herself, for it was very early) to talk with Amaxita in her chamber, and imparted unto her their design of marrying the Princess his sister unto Timantes. Let us tell her said he, to satisfy her concerning the Oracles which she received, that he is fallen in love with her reputation, and with the commendation which every one gives of her spirit. At first, Amaxita thought that the Prince Philoxipeses knew something of the passages between Timantes and Porthenia, but she was greatly undeceived of that, by several passages he told her: so that seeing it was the zeal and earnest desire of this Prince to promote this Marriage, she resolved to impart the secret of all the story unto him, conceiving that if she did not, perhaps the Prince Philoxipeses (when he saw the amazement that Timantes would be in, when seeing and hearing Parthenia speak, he would know her, and his unknown one to be one and the same person) would not know what to think, and perhaps would have some disadvantageous thought of Parthenia; therefore ●●e entreated the Prince Philoxipeses to believe the sincerity of her words, and conjured him not to discover what she had imparted, aggravating the scruple which Parthenia made, to marry a man who was in love with her beauty; so that Philoxipeses crediting all that my sister told him, he was so strongly confirmed in his design, that he thought of nothing else but how to promote it: He concluded then with Amaxita upon the day when he would bring Timantes unto Parthenia, to the end that the Princess mig●● not be that day in her negligent dress, though she should not be acquainted with the reason: After which he returned into Paphos, where Timantes was droning out a life of melancholy, for he was profoundly in love with his unknown Mistress, and could not forget the beauty of the Princess of Salamis, from whom he received divers Letters, no● knowing them to be from her. In the mean time Parthenia was almost absolutely resolved to disengage herself from the affection of Timantes, for she stood upon such terms of honour, that she could not resolve to make herself known unto him, after all this fantastical gallantry: And indeed she writ unto him as if it were to be the last he should ever receive from her: Yet I think it was not her full intention, for I think she writ another after it, purposely to know his sorrows after this sad news, and the better to know how he loved her. However, Timantes received the Letter after he had engaged himself to Policrite and Philoxipeses to go the next morning unto a place where yet he never had been; not thinking that it was unto the Princess of Salamis. But since he grieved excessively at the Letter from Parthenia, he did what he could to disengage himself, but he could not; all his pretences would not serve for an excuse, nor content Philoxipeses: He went himself to Timantes to oblige him unto this journey. Policrite sent several times unto him, and sent him positive word, that for her part she would not go, unless he did. So that as sad as he was, there was a necessity of going with them; but Heavens know it was with so much unwillingness and sorrow, that it appeared in his face, in his words, and in his habit; for it was careless. He did strive, and force himself to seem a little pleasant, but his sorrows were stronger than himself. Philoxipeses would have exceedingly grieved had he not known the cause; but my Sister did write unto him, intimating it, and her desires of hastening the execution of the design. I forgot to tell you, Sir, how Timantes answered Parthenia's Letter that night, and I sent it away so, that she received it two hours before Philoxipeses and Timantes came unto her: But never was there such a condoling Letter written; it moved Parthenia to repent of her rigid dealing with him: In the mean time Amaxita knowing that some company would come that day, was much puzzled how to get her out of her negligent dress, and bethought herself of a way how to move her unto it. The Princess long since promised my Sister to suffer her to take her Picture, and therefore my Sister told her that I had writ unto her by him who brought the Letter from Timantes, intimating that the Limmer would be there that day, and would infallibly be there within two hours. So that Amaxita in this consideration entreated the Princess to dress herself as well as possibly she could. The Princess told her at first, that he should stay until to morrow: but Amaxita told her, the Limmer was so full of work, that he could not stay so long, and that there was no time to spare: So that Parthenia loving my Sister very well, did let her women dress her as if she were going unto some public Feast, Amaxita telling her that the Limmer was to work upon her clothes that day, and that the better dressed she was, the more lovely would her face look, and would inspire a handsome fancy into the Limmer, and also that it was necessary that Parthenia was to dress herself, to the end he might draw her whole Picture. But whilst Amaxita was making choice of such Jewels and clothes as she desired Parthenia to wear that day, Timantes not knowing whither he was carried, left the conduct of himself to the Prince Philoxipeses, and the Princess Policrite; Antimaques made one in this voyage as well as Dorida, and I had the honour to be there also, Philoxipeses knowing by my Sister, that I was a confident in the business. But, Sir, the more melancholy Timantes was, the more inclination had Philoxipeses and Policrite to be merry, being more fully persuaded that he was the man whom the gods had reserved for a happiness unto the Princess of Salamis, since it is hardly possible without some special order of divine providence, that Timantes should love Parthenia in so odd a way. In the mean time this gallant company went on, and came at last so near that Desert of the Princess of Salamis, that Timantes coming out of a deep study, asked whose house that was, and whither it was they went unto. It is the same that we go unto, said Philoxipeses, but you shall not know whose it is, until you have seen her who will entertain us. Timantes was so deep in his melancholy, that he never minded this indirect answer, or had any suspicion. We came unto the Base Court of the Castle, and then went on foot: Timantes led Policrite, and Antimaques Dorida: As for Philoxipeses, he told the Princess his Wife, and Timantes, he would go before, and acquaint them they were come; so that commanding me to follow him, we went before unto Parthenia's chamber, who had newly done dressing herself, and who being told by some of her servants that the Prince her Brother, and Princess her Sister was come, she was coming in haste to entertain them: So that Philoxipeses giving her his hand after he had saluted her, he did not oppose her civility which she intended unto Policrite, but led her unto the midst of the outer room where they met. Sir, it is a most difficult matter to relate how Timantes was amazed when he saw the Princess of Salamis appear, whom he knew at first, though he never saw her but once before; and how the Princess of Salamis was surprised when she saw Timantes, who knew assoon as ever she spoke that his unknown Mistress and she were one and the same; certainly this adventure was full of wonder, at the very first Parthenia blushed: and in lieu of advancing towards Policrite, she thought to stop; Timantes did the same, and never were two persons of such spirits as they so planetstruck with amazement; yet Timantes amidst his wonder, had some glimpse of joy aswell as sorrow, the first of these, because the beauty of Parthenia made such a print in his heart, as he could not but joy at the sight of such a beauty; the second, because as things stood between him and his unknown Mistress, he feared left this visit would ruin him in her opinion. But when Parthenia was a little recollected from her first astonishment, and with much ado was able to tell Policrite she was glad to see her, Timantes fell into a second fit of wonder, much greater than the first; for Parthenia had no sooner pronounced four words, but he perfectly knew her voice, and made no question in the world but that she was his unknown Mistress: but yet this last amazement was much different from the first: for he was beyond all expectation joyed to find, that all he loved in two persons were conjoined in one, and that his unknown Mistress and Parthenia were one and the same, the motions of his heart did beat in his eyes; joy danced in his looks, and he had much ado to hinder his expressions of it; especially when Policrite having ended her own compliments, presented him unto Parthenia, who saluted him civilly, but yet very faintly; for since she was ignorant how Timantes was compelled to come unto her, she thought that since he was so jocund after such a letter as she sent him, that he did not love her; so that though she was not uncivil, yet he observed she was angry: Also she was so ashamed, that Timantes should know her, that she could no longer hide herself from him, and that it was no obligement in her, the making herself known unto him, that all her thoughts were so entangled and confused, that she knew not what to do or think, yet she imagined there was some secret design or other in this visit, and she suspected that Amaxita had revealed her secret; she looked earnestly in her eyes to find in them a confirmation of her suspicion, but she could not discover any thing by them. In the mean while Philoxipeses began to chide his sister and laugh, because she was not sufficiently joyed at the sight of Policrite, and because of her incivility in not thanking her for bringing to her the bravest and most gallant man in the world, in bringing Timantes: I believe, said she unto her, that the Princess my sister is so well persuaded of my affection, as she will not doubt but I am ravished with joy to see her, and as for this illustrious stranger (added she and blushed) I think he hath so little cause to thank you for bringing him hither, as I have not so much interest in him, as to thank you myself for him. I assure you Madam (replied Timantes, and looked upon her with equal love and joy) I think myself so happy in the honour of seeing you this day, that if you had any interest in me, you would render abundance of thanks for me unto the Prince Philoxipeses, and so much the more (said he, thinking to justify himself, and not thinking that the company took any notice) because the Prince Philoxipeses forced that happiness upon me, in compelling me to come hither, where I should have feared to disturb your solitude. After this Parthenia brought all this good company into her chamber, her mind being as full of various thoughts, as the mind of Timantes, whose eyes were still fixed upon hers, and she on the contrary durst not look upon him, but shunned his looks as much as she could: In the mean while Philoxipeses and Policrite, asked her how it came to pass she was so finely dressed in a desert, and afterward chid her for coming near Paphos, and never sending to see how they did; and thus the time was spent until dinner. But as Timantes did burn with desire to tell his adored unknown Mistress that he knew her, so he watched the opportunity (whilst Philoxipeses and Policrite were talking of the best expedients to get Parthenia's consent unto their desires) to address himself unto her, and to talk with her when none heard. Why Madam, said he unto her, have you so long eclipsed the greatest beauty in the World? why would you rather put it to hazard then your own will that I should see you? The last letter which your unknown Mistress writ unto you (said she unto him) has so little reached your hart, that I cannot tell whether her acquaintance with you, will be so pleasing as you imagine; or whether the consolation which you look for from the Princess of Salamis will be so great as you hoped: it was not she whom you saw at the Temple, but she whom you saw at Paphos, whom I desired you should love. Timantes hearing Parthenia say so, protested that he never intended to come and see her but that the Prince Philoxipeses had deceived him, and forced him to come whether he would or no, and that she might observe by his negligent habit, that he had no such intentions when he rose in the morning. The truth is Sir, he set all his Rhetoric upon the rack for arguments to persuade her, and make her believe, that he had no intention of seeing the Princess of Salamis, and said as much as if he were to justify himself for intending a visit unto her most mortal enemy, or as if his unknown Mistress and the Princess of Salamis were not all one person: and he was in a fair way to make his peace, when Philoxipeses and Policrite came towards them; Philoxipeses taking Parthenia aside to talk with her in private, and Policrite to talk with Timantes. But Sir, why should I so long hinder you from knowing the good fortune and happiness of these two lovers, which is a happy Omen of your own? Therefore let me tell you without making any particularities, that Philoxipeses let the Princess of Salamis understand, that he knew how Timantes loved her, and she made no difficulty to confess she did not hate him. Afterwards he made it apparent unto her, that the Oracles were accomplished, since Timantes loved her without the influence of her beauty, and he persuaded her to put the fidelity of Timantes unto no further trials, protesting unto her, that he durst answer for his constancy. On the other side; Policrite told Timantes, that Philoxipeses knew of his passion and approved of it. Thus were all things so prosperously transacted, that it was resolved upon before Philoxipeses returned unto Paphos, Antimaques should return to Crete to procure the consent of Timantes his Father. In the mean time, left solitude should infuse fresh scruples, and more fantastical thoughts in Parthenia, Philoxipeses would have Policrite carry her unto his stately house of Claria, and there continue with her before she returned to Court. In conclusion, Sir, all things were happily composed; Parthenia pardoned Amaxita for revealing her secret: Timantes rendered a million of thanks to the Prince Philoxipeses, and was infinitely more in love with Parthenia then before, but durst not tell her as much, lest she should think he loved her beauty more than her soul. Antimaques returned with the consent of Timantes his Father; and to recompense his pains a match was made up between him and Dorida, and they were married eight days after Timantes and Parthenia. I shall not trouble you, Sir, with a relation of the great rejoicings in Paphos, for you are not concerned in them, only let me tell you this, Sir, that never were two so happy as Timantes and Parthenia; and to let this Princess see he loved her above Parents, Country, and and all the world, he would not go into Crete, but resolved to dwell in Cyprus. The King, for Philoxipeses his sake, conferred upon him the Government of one of the principal parts of the Isle: So that Parthenia found a full accomplishment of her joys, insomuch, as you, Sir, have reason to hope, that the same gods who declared her happiness and yours at the same time, would produce the same happy events unto you, Sir, as unto her. Also it was the Prince Philoxipeses his pleasure, that I should come and acquaint you with the happy conclusion of this adventure, that you might with greater hopes wait for a happy end of all your misfortunes, and for an accomplishment of your felicity, which he desires with all his heart, and wishes with as much zeal as he doth his own.  
Megasides having ended his story, Cyrus expressed a thousand thanks to the Prince Philoxipeses for the hopes he gave him of an end unto his miseries; and thanking Megasides in particular for his exact relation of this pleasant adventure, he thought he had good reason to hope, that since the Gods had made Parthenia so happy so odd a way, they would also make him happy after all his miseries. After this Cyrus asked Leontidas where he met with Megasides, and he was answered, at Milete; then he dismissed them, assuring Megasides and Leontidas, that he would take orders for their dispatch, as soon as he had taken a little rest. But they both beseeched him to give them so much leave as to stay and see the end of the Siege of Sardis: Leontidas importuning him to send his orders unto Thrasibulus by some other; and Megasides desired he might not return unto Cyprus but with news of a new Victory, to the end he might be more joyfully welcomed by Philoxipeses. Cyrus' consented unto their requests, and giving them both thanks and commendations, he bade them retire unto their rest, being himself in more quietness of spirit than he was the day before; for though the Oracle of Babylon did threaten him; and the Sibyl declared sad things unto him, yet since Venus Urania spoke him fair, he did not so sadly resent the rest, nor despaired of happiness, since he might as well believe the one as the other. Thus this news did invigorate his spirits amidst his sufferings: He had fresh hopes of happy success in his siege of Sardis, and hoped also that the unjust jealousy of Mandana would shortly end: So that after he had given some Military orders, he refreshed himself with two or three hours of sound serene sleep: His Dreams also which used to be horrid, now smiled upon him, and he saw Mandana, and Mandana not jealous nor angry: He thought he saw her sitting in an Arbour set round with Flowers, and that she called him with as much sweetness in her voice as in her eyes; but as he was going unto her, and ready to kneel unto his Princess, he thought he heard a great noise, which made her vanish, and him awake, very sorry he could no longer enjoy so fair and sweet a vision.   
The end of the first Book.   

ARTAMENES, OR, CYRUS the GREAT. THE six PART. BOOK II.  
CYRUS, as soon as he was awake, begun to think how he might turn his pleasing dreams into real enjoyments of Mandana, but since that could not be, unless Sardis were taken; the getting of that famous Town was the object of all his wishes and thoughts. Never was this victorious Prince so greedy of Conquest as at this time. Nor did he neglect any thing that might further his design, but did so often hazard his life at that Siege, that if Fortune had not had a greater care of his life then himself, his Rivals had triumphed over his ruin without any quarrel among themselves. But this Prince was so powerfully protected by heaven, to fall in so just a war, though those who judge of things according to appearances, and consider not that the secrets of Sovereign power are inscrutable, did think him to be forsaken. Mean while, the cessation of hostility, until the dead of both sides were brought off, being ended, both the Assaulters and the Assaulted began both to use all endeavours to compass their desired ends. Cyrus' attempted to raise another Sconce under the Counterscarp of the Ditch, opposite unto that which he made before; to the end that when he made a second Assault, this might facilitate his design; and that when he was Master of two Passes over the Ditch, he might make a scalado in two several places at once without the loss of many men: Yet this was not done without a Council of War: But since this Prince never propounded any thing without deep judgement, and which was not advantageous to the common cause, both his Friends and his Rivals were forced always to approve of what he said: Yet would the King of Assyria sometimes oppose him out of pure obstinacy: And if the wisdom and prudence of Mazares had not sometimes interposed, and tempered the violence of the Assyrian Prince, perhaps the combat between Cyrus and him would have been fought before the War, and by consequence before Mandana was at liberty: For so was the condition between Cyrus and this Prince, to put to hazard that in a single Duel which he had won, and so justly merited by so many general Combats, by the taking of so many Towns, by the conquest of so many Provinces and Kingdoms, and by the winning of so many Battles. 'Tis true, all the Friends of Cyrus had an observant eye over them; and more true, that Cyrus himself had sometimes pity upon this Prince, who without all doubt had many excellent qualities: For when he considered, how he was a great King, that he had lost a great Kingdom, and the prime Town in the World, and that the Violence of his passion, forced him to serve in the Army of his conqueror and rival, and also enemy, that he was certainly hated of Mandana, he excused his imperfections and weaknesses, and deferred his revenge until after Mandana's releasement when he might with honour take it; yet would he augment his sorrows, by letting him know what the Oracle of Venus-Vrania had said in his commendations, that he might have less confidence in that which he received from Jupiter-Belus at Babylon. It was not only envy to take all hopes from a rival, which moved Cyrus to publish this Oracle, but as his reason why he would not divulge the sad answer of the Sibyl, was, because he would not dishearten his soldiers: so on the contrary, he desired they should know this Oracle, that it might invigorate their spirits, and give them fresh hearts to fight, knowing well that hopes of Victory in a Soldier is a Battle more than half won. But since his modesty would not permit him to offer any profanation, by altering any thing which the Gods had said, he desired Megasides and Leontidas to leave out what the Oracle of Venus-Vrania had spoken in his commendations, and to publish only what related unto an end of his miseries: For though this Oracle did not positively say that Cyrus should take Sardis, that he should release Mandana, and vanquish all his Rivals; yet since they foretold him to be happy, these things must consequently ensue, since most certainly he could never be happy without Mandana, and he could never get Mandana without a conquest of his Rivals and enemies; therefore by necessary inference, he was to obtain this victory, before he could enjoy this Princess. This Oracle than was no sooner published by Megasides, and principally by Leontidas, who was acquainted with all the officers in the Army, but it produced those effects which Cyrus expected; fresh valour was infused into all his troops, and new sorrows seized upon the King of Assyria's heart; all the mountainous hopes he had in the promises of Jupiter-Belus began to shrink into Molehills, by reason of this Oracle; but since he thought that by murmuring against the Gods would but the more incense them, he was silently hushed, and hated Cyrus the more, though he did not less esteem him. As for Mazares, since he expected nothing but misery, his reason did surmount his passion, and he had no other hopes but to participate with Cyrus in the danger and glory of releasing Mandana, and therefore these promises of the Gods unto Cyrus, the King of Assyria did little fret his heart: 'tis true, he was always so miserable, that Fortune could hardly be more incensed against him than she was, but since he was not less prudent than unfortunate, nor less generous than prudent, Cyrus began to esteem him infinitely, and keep close society with him; both of them did complain unto each other of the King of Assyria's violent humour, and at last did so accustom themselves unto civility, that they did not only esteem, but think each other worthy of Mandana; yet they never spoke of her but sighed, and as they went from quarter to quarter, visiting the guards which Cyrus kept upon all the advenues of Sardis, Mandana was the only object of their discourse, unless when they were obliged to speak of something which related unto the Siege. How are you Sir, would Mazares say unto him, in being not only loved by the most glorious Princess of the world, but also in never having done any thing which might displease her; I wish unto the heavens, that since it was my bitter fate to be hated, that it might be unjustly, and that I could not upbraid myself with meriting her hate, by my deceiving her, and carrying her away from Sinope. There is both so much love, and prudence, and generosity, in your expressions Sir, replied Cyrus, that I would not have my Princess hear you. No, no, Sir (said Mazares sadly) never fear the Princess Mandana, since she has slighted the King of Assyria for you, and since she had rather see all Asia in arms than you unfaithful; since she has held out against all the submissive attempts of the Pontean King; and has hated me so far, as to deny that liberty which I offered her, you may well be confident, that nothing will alter the constant heart of that Princess. Whilst Mazares was talking thus, Cyrus harkened and sighed, seeing him to be more miserable than he thought him; nor would he acquaint him with his condition in Mandana's thoughts, lest he should revive some hopes in the heart of his generous Rival, and kindle that fire which was not quite extinguished. In the mean time Cyrus neglected not the erecting of that sconce which he intended, and was resolved upon by the council of War, but it was not done without much difficulty; for the King of Pontus knowing the importance of it, did sally out three times upon them; yet Cyrus knowing well that one of the greatest secrets in War is, never to quit the first design for a second, because then sudden orders can never be so prudently given, nor punctually executed, as those which are deliberately pondered, therefore he commanded this sconce to be prosecuted with all the power he had; and since his army was numerous, he thought that let the Enemies make what Sallies they could, he was able to beat them in again. The King of Assyria, the King of Phrygia, and the King of Hircama, had each their several Quarters to make good; and the Stranger Anaxaris fought that day next Cyrus, he thinking it a sufficient recompense of his Valour, to have this Renowned Hero a witness of it: And it must be acknowledged, that as the commendations of Cyrus was noble Rewards for the Acts of Anaxaris, so the Acts of Anaxaris did deserve the commendations of Cyrus. Amongst all the rest of his bravery during this Siege, that erecting of this Sconce was one of the most remarkable; for he did such things as could never be equalled by any but by the valour of Cyrus only, who questionless upon this occasion did such things as can hardly be related without suspicion of truth. Above twenty times was he beaten off by the enemy, and as often did he repulse them into the town, he lost and regained that quarter of the ditch where he intended the Sconce; but at last he wearied his enemies, and perfected his design: The Sallies which the besieged made in other places did thrive no better: Cyrus sustained some loss of men, but not comparable to his Enemies: Araspes, who since the death of Panthea did sigh out a life of sorrows, was wounded at this bout, where he fought more with design to die then vanquish, but so it did not prove, for there was no mortality in the wound he received, but was rather a means to save his life then to put it in danger. The King of Assyria was in thoughts of death also at this time: But the advantage was clear on Cyrus his side: For he had finished his sconce, he had killed many Lydians, and took abundance of prisoners. He understood from some of them after the Fight was ended, and he returned to his Tent, that the King of Pontus to keep up the people, told them of great Relief to come from Thrace, that the Bactrians also would send Auxiliaries, and that ere long Cyrus would be forced to raise the Siege. He understood from them also more certainly than before, that Croesus had no power in the Citadel, and that the King of Pontus had so tampered, that he was absolute master of the Soldiery. These Prisoners also told him, how there came a Lady late unto the Citadel, unto whom the King of Pontus moved Croesus to give protection. How could this Lady, said Cyrus, get into Sardis, since it is compassed about with two hundred thousand men? No, Sir, said one of those prisoners, she came in before unknown for whom she was, though they say she is of some great Quality. There is also a man, whose name is Heracleon (who is a most gallant man) that promiseth Croesus to bring great succours unto him: They say also, that he has been long in Sardis concealed; but I can give no further satisfaction in the adventure, only this, that he is a man of some great Quality. After this Cyrus retired, and most part of these prisoners took up arms under him. The day following, those Deputies which Leontidas spoke of, arrived, and in the name of the people who sent them, did swear inviolable fidelity to him. They came from Gnide, from Cavia, from the Territories of Xanthes, and from Licia; the Cauniens also, and the Melesians sent their Deputies, so that Fortune smiled upon Cyrus from all sides. And truly, if ambition only had been his aim, and if glory only had been his wish, he had full cause of contentment; but since Love only was the engine of his soul, he relished nothing but what conduced to Mandana's releasement, and he would freely have quitted all his Conquests upon that condition. However he received all these Deputies with much sweetness, and treated them most magnificently. He assured them of protection against all their enemies; and told them he would so mediate the matter with Ciaxares, as he should look upon them like ancient and faithful Subjects. In conclusion, they were so charmed with his sweet expressions, that he made himself as much a Master of their hearts by his sweetness, as he had made himself Master of their Country by force of Arms. Their greatest admiration was, to see a Prince so young, so expert in all their Customs and Laws, and able to give them as sound advice in the management of public affairs, as if he had been brought up amongst them, and had nothing to do but govern them: He spoke unto them all in their several Languages, and filled them all so full of wonder, that they returned not only charmed with his presence, his spirit, his virtue, and his sweetness, but also with his gifts, and went with resolutions to incite their Citizens unto some act which might redound unto the glory of Cyrus: And they did constitute every year for ever a day of thanks to be rendered unto the gods for bringing them under the power of Cyrus. In the mean while to testify more confidence in the people which expressed so much affection, he confirmed all their Laws and Privileges, remitted unto them all Tributes, and required nothing from them but assurances of unalterable fidelity: Calling back the Army which Thrasibulus, and Harpagus commanded; sent orders for the first of these to march with them unto him, and leaving the other in the arms of his dear Aleionida: And though Cyrus was so well versed in the Politics, as that he knew it contrary to custom to draw off his Army so soon from a new conquered Country; yet since this Lydian War was the main hinge upon which all the rest moved, and since he left Garrisons in some places of greatest strength, he did not think the hazard was great, but thought it better to fortify his own Forces; not knowing how long the Siege might last; and knowing that the taking of so great a Town as Sardis, might require as great an Army as his. However, Cyrus neglected nothing, he sent to see how Sesostris recovered, who was so well, that he sent Cyrus' word, he should ere long come and hazard that life in his service which he had preserved. Cyrus also sent a compliment to the Princess Araminta, and was as good as his word in not suffering Phraartes to come unto her during the Siege: nor did he forget Cleonice and Doralisa, nor any of the Lady Prisoners: But though he did most gloriously acquit himself of all he had to do, either as a Lover, or as a Friend, or as an Enemy, or as a Prince, or as the General of an Army, or as a Conqueror, yet Mandana's unjust charging him with infidelity, did grate upon his very heart: and as oft as this angry thought came into his mind, he thought also he had some reason to fear her constancy: Since commonly those who lightly suspect others are guilty themselves: yet did he presently repent of such a thought, which had much more troubled him, if he had not received intelligence that the people of Sardis began to consider that their riches would not fill their bellies, and that there was likelihood of a hungry sedition to rise amongst them, so that their Town would be thereby more pregnable: And indeed there was great probability of it, though Croesus, and the King of Pontus did all they could, the one to save his Crown, the other his Mistress; but they were in extreme fears of both: Yet lest the people should despair, they concealed their fears, and divulged that Relief was coming; that the Army of Cyrus wasted every day, and that he would in a short time be forced to raise his Siege: That the people which he had conquered did revolt, and consequently he would not be in any condition of new Conquests. Moreover the King of Pontus gave out, that Cyrus did not now care for Mandana who was the cause of the War, but that he was in love with the Princess Araminta; so that within this short time all would be made good friends: So that these reports being divulged, the people suffered their miseries more patiently, in hopes ere long to see an end of them. The King of Pontus also received another advantage; for this report coming out of the Town into the Citadel, and from the mouths of the people unto the Soldiers: So that Mandana's women heard what was talked in Sardis: the Guards told them aloud (thinking it would be welcome news that they should ere long come out of prison) that the Peace was almost concluded between the King of Pontus and Cyrus; adding, that the first of these was to marry Mandana, and Cyrus Araminta. Martesia did not credit these reports, though they confirmed Mandana's Jealousy; and though they made no impression in the spirit of Martesia, yet they did in Areatina, who told all she heard unto a woman belonging to the Princess Palmis, and in so loud a voice as Mandana in the next room overheard her: It did so surprise her, that the Princess of Lydia who was with her, did ask her, why she did so suddenly change her colour? Mandana being one who loved not to confess her own weakness; but what confidence soever she had in the discretion of the Princess Palmis, yet she concealed her jealousy; but now seeing it was become public talk, she resolved to acquaint her, desiring leave first to ask Ariamta where she had these reports. Arianita being surprised that Mandana should overhear her, would have denied her words; but Mandana told her absolutely she did speak them, and she would know the truth; so that at last she told her all. These two Princes then retiring themselves: For my part, said the Princess Palmis, I cannot find any reason why you should fear that this talk of the Guards should be true: For is it probable or credible, that the greatest Prince in the world should be capable of so much unworthiness? Though he were perfidious, and could not preserve his heart, yet certainly he would never make conditions of peace by disposing of you, but would set you at liberty: He may perhaps restore the Kingdom of Pontus unto the Brother of his new Mistress, but has nothing to do in the disposing of the King of Medes Daughter, whose Army he commands; and therefore I am confident Cyrus is innocent, and these reports of the Guards are only those vain popularities which such kind of people usually vent, though there be no appearance of truth in them. No, no, Madam (replied Mandana sadly) the news is not all false, nor do I think it all true: I do not think the perfidy of Cyrus so high as to make his conditions of peace with me: Yet certainly he loves not me, but the Princess Araminta; and I must confess that I have such probable conjectures of his crime, that I do not doubt it. I confess also I have concealed my suspicions from you, because I could not possess you so soon with an ill opinion of that man whom I had so highly commended unto you. But I pray you (said the Princess Palmis) what proofs have you of Cyrus his inconstancy, who hath testified so many signs of unalterable constancy? and done more for you, than any did for any? Be pleased to know, replied she, that a while before the King of Pontus went to fight the Battle which he lost, he came into my Chamber with more glimpse of joy in his face then usually: Madam (said he unto me) I beseech you pardon me, if I acquaint you with a thing, which doubtless will not please you, but since it concerns you no less than me, I think it my duty to let you know it. Sir, said I unto him and sighed, you have so accustomed me to ill news since I have been in your power, that though you should tell me any thing which will not please, yet I shall hear it. I think Madam, said he unto her, that it will displease you to hear that Cyrus whom you prefer before all the Princes in the World, and who indeed does merit all his glory, hath preferred one before you, that is inferior to you in all things: I do not desire Madam you should believe me, but believe your own eyes. After this he gave me a letter, telling me it was from the Princess his sister, and which indeed was so; adding, that it was taken from a man who was taken prisoner: But Madam, said Mandana, that you may see what cause I have to suspect and grieve, I pray you read this letter from the Princess Araminta, which the King of Pontus left with me; I need not tell you how this Princess was in love with Spitridates, son to Arsomenes King of Bythinia; nor need I tell you, how Spitridates does wonderfully resemble Cyrus; for persons of your quality and wisdom know all these adventures: After this, Mandana did give the Princess Araminta's letter unto the Princess Palmis, and the King of Pontus finding in it matter enough to make Mandana jealous, resolved to give it unto her, thereby to poison her opinion of Cyrus, and the Princess Palmis opening this letter found these words.  
ARAMINTA, unto SPITRIDATES.  
SIR,  
I Conceive you have reason of wonder, to see one whom you have driven to the necessity of justifying herself, almost confess all things that you can accuse her of: In the mean time I cannot deny, but that I am extremely obliged unto the illustrious Cyrus, who hath had more respect of me, than ever conqueror had of a captive, and that I have as much of him, looking upon him as the greatest Prince in the world, and the most glorious conqueror: Nor can I deny, but he does wonderfully resemble you, and that the sight of him does extremely delight me. After all this, I wonder you should write unto me, that it should be reported I have conquered the conqueror of all Asia, and that my heart is his most illustrious conquest; for considering all I have done for you, this is extreme injustice, there was no necessity that you should tell me, that before you were in prison, you heard of his respects unto me and to him, for I confess it; & less need to writ unto me how they report a hundred particular passages 'twixt him and me, for you cannot do it without a wrong unto me. Return Spitridates, return, & render yourself worthy of my justification, repent of your accusation: 'Tis true, I cannot much grieve, since the taking of Sardis will let you know what the designs of Cyrus and myself are. I do not say this Prince hath promised to set you at liberty, for you will perhaps think he would not do it, but only to recompense you for taking from you one who heretofore was most dear unto you. After this, I have no more to say, but that since it is the voice of the people which accused me, I do expect and wait until the same do let you know I never did any thing which I ought not to do, nor ever had the least thought which I ought not to think, and that I love none but whom I will love unto the death of  
ARAMINTA.  
Assoon as the Princess Palmis had read this Letter, Mandana began to speak. Well Madam, said she unto her, is it not reason that since the Prince Spitridates is jealous of the Princess Araminta, I should suspect the fidelity of Cyrus? must there not needs be some truth in that which is so generally spoken both in Bythinia and Lydia, in Chalcidonia & in Sardis? Moreover Madam, I am most certain this is the hand of Araminta, for I have several times seen hers, when the King of Pontus was a hostage in the King my Father's Court; so that I cannot think there is an imposture in it: moreover I cannot suspect the King of Pontus of forgery, for I have seen the servant whom Spitridates sent with the Letter, and he is the very same servant which I preferred unto Cyrus when he went unto Themiscyra: But did this Servant tell you that Cyrus was in love with Araminta? (replied the Princess Palmis) He did not directly say so (replied she) but he said Cyrus did render as much honour unto Araminta, as if she were at Heraclea, he visited her very often, and held long discourses with her: Moreover, this messenger from Spitridates tells me one thing, which puts me out of doubt that there is a great league of secrecy between Cyrus and Araminta; for he tells me, that when he was brought before Cyrus, and the letters which I had about me presented unto him, he sent it immediately unto Araminta by Chrisantes, not knowing from whence it came, and it was only by Araminta's answer I came to know it was from Spitridates; this messenger had orders to go unto this Princess with Chrisantes, who gave her this Letter directed to her from Cyrus, who was so full of respect unto her, that he sent it unopened, though by the laws of War he might have done it without any incivility. But the better to let you see what this secret business was, the man says that the Princess Araminta sent back the Letter of Spitridates unto Cyrus by Chrisantes, with the letter which she writ unto him from herself, and that afterward Cyrus sent it back again with his answer unto her. I beseech you Madam judge whether I need to doubt of the infidelity of Cyrus, for if he were not a lover of Araminta, she would never have sent him Spitridates his Letter, it had been enough if she had sent him word that it concerned no matters of State or War. But certainly she intends to sacrifice Spitridates unto Cyrus, and sent his Letter to know of him what she should answer. For all this, said the Princess Palmis it seems Araminta would justify herself, since she says Spitridates hath no cause to be jealous: Alas Madam, replied Mandana, I find more crime in Cyrus, than I do innocency in Araminta, for she does so weakly justify herself, that she seems rather to prepare Spitridates for her inconstancy, then to cure his jealousy; she confesseth almost all he can accuse her of, and deferrs her justification until after the taking of Sardis; never telling him, she will be still his and not the lover of Cyrus; she began to make him hope for liberty, but she ended in telling him, she would love him until death whom she loved at that present, but never tells him whether it be he she loves or no; she might aswell have said, Araminta is inconstant, because she thinks Cyrus more amiable than Spitridates, and more happy; a mixture of ambition with love, is not amiss, and by entertaining the passion of this Prince, she reneweth the Crown in her, and Crowns her own head with all his Laurels: The truth is Madam, it is not strange that the conqueror of all Asia, should conquer Araminta's heart; and less wonder if I should murmur, that Cyrus should be conquered by a captive Princess, then for her to be moved with the tears of a conqueror: But Madam, it must be confessed his height of injustice in him to forsake me after all this I have done for him, after he hath been the cause of all the miseries in my life; after I have for his sake slighted the greatest Princes in the world, and after I had overcome my own spirit and heart for his sake: Yet Madam it is but too true, that Cyrus has forsaken me, and had rather lose the reward of all his past services, then remain faithful. Truly Madam, said the Princess Palmis, me thinks you condemn Cyrus upon no good ground, for though there be some appearances against him, yet they are no convincing proofs; and you ought not to condemn him as a criminal. I believe (said Mandana and sighed) that the taking of Sardis will make his crime apparent; and as for this pretended peace, which is talked of unto Araminta, I am confident it is nothing but common brute without ground: However said the Princess Palmis, defer your judgement until the end of the Siege, and then you may see the innocency or crime of Cyrus, and indeed it is not safe to censure until then, and then either to thank him for your liberty, or chide him for his inconstancy. Oh, I pray unto the Gods that you may have then so much power with him, as to make him be gentle unto the conquered, as hither to he hath been. Though I should have no power with him, replied Mandana, yet I am confident he would treat the King your Father very well; but as for matter of chiding, said she, I have already done it: and then Mandana told Palmis how she had writ unto him, and by whom, who was one of those assassinates which should have killed Cyrus at the instigation of the coward Artanus, and whom Cyrus did afterwards most generously pardon, when he fell into his power. In the mean time, he never answers me, though the man promised me to return or die: But Mandana's expectations were in vain; for as cunning as the man was, he was suspected and stayed, so that he could not return to the Citadel, they searched him whether he had any letters, and found about him that of Cyrus which was most carefully sealed, and Pactias before whom he was brought, sent it immediately unto the King of Pontus: Thus was the unhappy Mandana deprived of the comfort in receiving a letter from Cyrus, which questionless would have convinced her of the error wherein she was; yet was she very happy in having the society of a person so full of spirit and goodness as the Princess Palmis to comfort her in her miseries, and certainly did retalliate comfort for comfort, yet had they one more addition of sorrows; for the King of Pontus, conceiving another Chamber in the Fort did require fewer Guards, and by consequence more safe, since it is an easier matter to find few, than many faithful, he would have them removed thither: But since they could only pass into it by a great high Terrace, from whence they might discover all about the Town, they had a view of all the Army of Cyrus which were about it; yet as their relations were different, so they turned their looks several ways: For Mandana looked towards the besiegers, where she knew Cyrus, though she thought him unfaithful; and the Princess Palmis looked towards that part of the Town where she knew the Prince Artamas was prisoner, but the love of her Country, her tenderness towards the King her Father, and the Prince Myrsiles, drew some of her tears for them, and for the Prince Artamas: And after she had seriously considered the huge Army which covered all the Plains as far as she could see: Alas (said she, and turned towards Mandana sadly) you have so much comfort, Madam, as to see your Releaser amongst this vast multitude of men. Alas, Madam (replied Mandana) a perfidious Prince shall never be my Deliverer; and I shall have more joy to see the Prince Artamas out of Prison, since he is your Adorer, then to see Cyrus' victorious, since he loves not me. The discourse of these two great Princesses was not long; for their Guards would not permit them to be long in that place. So they entered into their new lodgings; and they entered sighing, though she who had the least cause was most sad; but her error was the more excusable, because if she had really lost the heart of her Illustrious Cyrus, she had lost the greatest Jewel in the world. Whilst then this fair and sad Princess was with so much injustice lamenting her loss, and whilst Croesus was with as much reason trembling at his; whilst the King of Pontus was in despair, and whilst the Prince Artamas endured his prison patiently, Cyrus was thinking of nothing but how to release Mandana: He complained of her Jealousy, but it was with so much reverend respect, as would have been fully satisfied, had she known it. In the mean while, it vexed him to see Sardis hold out longer than he expected; and he resolved upon the loss of many men rather than not to carry it the next Assault: and because he would not receive a baffle, he stayed some days until Scaling-ladders were in readiness. In which interim some design or other was still on foot, either in preventing victuals from coming to the Town, or in cutting off some Water from the enemy; or in repulsing of Sallies which were every day made: The reason which made the King of Pontus so frequent in his Sallies, and hazard so many men in them, was, he would the better pry into the encampment of his Enemies, and spy an opportunity, if need should be, of carrying away the Princess Mandana: By this means also, he could either send out Spies into the Army of Cyrus, or else to solicit for Relief. Things standing on these terms, the King of Pontus made a sally in the night time on that Quarter where Cyrus commanded in person. At first he killed many men, fell into the Trenches, and slew all that stood in their way, and gave an Alarm unto all the Camp; but Cyrus did quickly stop their fury by his presence; for his voice was no sooner heard both amongst his own men, and his Enemies, but the one struck with fury, and the other with fear, the Enemy fled, and his men followed so close, that they were ready to enter the Town with them; but so few of the Enemy entered, as since that they had no great mind of making Sallies on Cyrus his side. The Egyptians and Medes being upon the Guard that night, had their share in the glory of that Action; who yet were beholding to Cyrus for their valour, who being as sweet after victory, as valiant in fight, had a great care of all wounded men as well friends as enemies, and so much the rather, because he understood that there was an Egyptian of quality taken prisoner, who before he rendered himself, did so gallantly dispute for his liberty, as he was wounded in several places, and yet fought till he fell from his Horse, so was forced to yield. Cyrus' enquired his name in the presence of many Egyptian Officers about him; but they knew not, and were extremely impatient to know whom this valiant man of their Nation should be: But when they heard his name was Heracleon, they could not choose but murmur amongst themselves, & seem astonished, especially when they heard afterwards that Cyrus commanded that a great care should be had of him, and placed him in one of his own Tents. There was an Egyptian Officer whose name was Miris, could not hold from grumbling at this indulgency of Cyrus to him. Oh, Sir, said he, be not so sweet as to preserve the life of the most wicked man upon earth, infinitely unworthy the protection of so virtuous a Prince. If he be such a one as you say, replied Cyrus, the Gods will punish him without me. But who is this Heracleon? Sir, replied Miris, he is a man most unworthy of his birth, which indeed is noble: He is a Rival to the generous Sesostris, he is an Enemy to his Country, an Assassinate of Kings, and a man whose love and ambition prompts unto all imaginable villainies: Therefore I conjure you, as you tender the interest of Sesostris, to command he be less esteemed, andmore carefully guarded lest he escape, or kill himself when he sees he's known: For, Sir, it doth much import Sesostris, since Heracleon is in your power, that this wretch do not die, before he let him know that which he only can inform him. Cyrus' having observed that Sesostris loved Miris very well, did hearken unto him, and commanded that Heracleon should be carefully guarded, that his words should be carefully observed: commanding also, at the request of Miris, that an account be given of his wounds, to the end, that if he be in danger, he may be moved to confess what concerned the Prince Sesostris: However, Sir, said Miris, I beseech you as you respect the interest of this great Prince, Sir, to let me have two hours' discourse and audience, as soon as conveniently you can; that I may acquaint you, how it concerns Sesostris to know what only Heracleon can tell him, and that you may know also what difference to put between these two Rivals; for since I most exactly know all passages between them, and since the Prince Sesostris commanded me to acquaint you with it as soon as I met with a favourable opportunity, I should be exceedingly glad since you have his enemy in your hands, to acquaint you with his adventures. The story will extremely please (replied Cyrus) for ever since the first I saw Sesostris, I have had a great desire to know his fortunes; therefore I promise you to manage my matters so, as I will find some hours of audience before I sleep; and indeed Cyrus was as good as his word; for after he had spent all the rest of that day, and the beginning of the night in giving orders, he retired something sooner than ordinary: Yet first he understood, that at the first Heracleon would hardly suffer himself to be dressed, and raved as if he had been mad, but at last he suffered his wounds to be dressed, which proved very dangerous, yet not impossible to be healed; and though they were not, yet it would be long ere he died of them. At last Cyrus sent for Miris to give him audience, conjuring him to make an exact relation of Sesostris his life: For, said Cyrus, your hints concerning Heracleon makes me desirous to know more, so also there is a secret kind of inclination in me, which makes me to desire a more exact knowledge of his interests. I assure you, Sir, replied Miris you cannot have a greater desire to know, than I have to acquaint you with his adventures. Since so, said Cyrus, let us lose no time in discourse of any thing else. Then Miris, in obedience unto the commands of Cyrus, began thus.  

The History of SESOSTRIS and TIMARETA.  
SIR,  
TO inform you rightly concerning Sesostris, and the cause of his misfortunes, I must not only relate the History of his Life, but his Fathers also; and I must exactly bring in the story of all Egypt in general, as well as his in particular: So far is the original and source of his misfortunes fetched. Therefore, I beseech you, Sir, do not wonder if I begin my discourse with things which at first sight seem impertinent unto my discourse, yet by the sequel you shall find that they are essentially necessary. I beseech you also, Sir, give me leave to relate many things particularly which Fame doubtless hath already brought unto your ears; yet it is impossible you should perfectly understand the adventures which have dependency upon them, since it is not credible your Infancy could be capable of them; nor indeed possible in your riper years, that the Conqueror of all Asia should have so much leisure from his illustrious Conquest, as to inquire of all the passages in Africa. Give me leave to tell you then, Sir, that Sesostris is the son of Apriez, that Renowned, but unfornate King, who after a long and happy Reign, brought home so many glorious advantages from the Wars with Tyre and Sidon, was at last thrown out of his Throne. This Apriez boasts of his descent from the Race of the first Sesostris, so famous for his Virtues and Victories: For Psammethicus his great Grandfather was so. 'Tis true, this Prince from whom Apriez descended, was himself sufficiently adorned with glory, without any derivatives from his Predecessors, since it was he who had the honour to defeat eleven Kings, or rather so many Tyrants, which during a vacancy upon the Throne, divided all the Kingdom into so many illegitimate powers. This is, Sir, the extraction of Sesostris: And I know, Sir, you will wonder when I tell you, that Amasis, who this day reigns in Egypt, hath a Son of Apriez, and a Son who commands all the Forces of Amasis, Conqueror of the late King his Father: But, Sir, if you will be pleased to lend as much patience as to hear me, your wonder will vanish, and all that which did seem incredible, will easily be believed. To return then unto the source of Sesostris his misfortunes, it is expedient, as I said before, to acquaint you with the misfortunes of the King his Father; and afterwards tell you how Amasis came unto the Throne, for these are the hinges of all the History. I have already told you Sir, how happily Apriez reigned: happy in Wars, happy in peace, and as happy also in his marriage, not only in a Princess of most admirable beauty and virtue, but also in a son born the first year of her marriage: a son who from his very cradle seemed to be what you see him at this day; and all the interim of his infancy was full of illustrious hopes. Thus was Apriez the happiest of all the Kings upon Earth, Master of the most abundant of rich Kingdoms in the World; never was Egypt in sweeter tranquillity, never did the Floods of Nilus make our fields more fertile, and never was the Monarchy more firmly established than it seemed to be at that time: Yet Sir, this Serenity was quickly overclowded; but that you may the better see which way the Gods did bring it about, be pleased to know, that Amasis (who at this day reigns, and whose birth was more noble than his enemy's report) was then in the Court, harbouring so much ambition secretly in his heart, as seldom did suffer him to be in rest. There was in the Court at the same time, a Princess, whose name was Ladice, who had been married, who being a Widow, obtained the Queen's favour, and consequently the Kings, for it is the custom of Egypt, that all Husbands do in general respect their Wives, and especially Kings their Queens, grounding this laudable custom upon the excellent example of Osiris, who was infinitely uxorious unto Isis; and this way Ladice, possessing the heart of the Queen, was in great credit with the King; and as those in favour are always looked upon, so Amasis whose spirit was as great as his ambition, perceiving the power which Ladice had with the Queen, began to apply himself unto her more than any other, before her favour was much divulged in the world; to the end he might persuade this Princess, that this was not the reason why he saw her more than he was accustomed: For Amasis' being of a penetrating spirit, and knowing the humours both of the Queen and Ladice, though the favours of this Princess were at first but small in show, yet he foresaw that undoubtedly they would augment, and therefore to set a better price upon his services, he began betimes to declare himself to be a devoted friend unto Ladice: and indeed this Princess who was extremely pleased with the spirit of Amasis, was not long before she became his friend as much as he hers, and more, for he loved her because of her favour, and she loved him only in respect of his merit and person. In the mean time, when Amasis saw he was not mistaken in his conjectures, but that Ladice did grow more and more in favour, the better to cloak his ambition, he made the Princess think he loved her, and so handsomely managed the matter, that she was not angry with him for it: I will not tell you Sir, which way he discovered his passion to her, nor how Ladice accepted it, because I intent not a relation of his or her history: only this, that Ladice being both fair and a favourite, all the men of any quality in the Court, did apply themselves to serve her, so that she neither accepting nor rejecting any of them, she was absolute Mistress of the hearts, of all the Grandees of Egypt: and since this Princess did love the State, she made use of their loves, as well as her beauty and favour, to keep them from any rebellions in the Kingdom, and inseparably to unite them unto the King's interest: and the truth is, she did negotiate with so much wisdom and generosity, that she merited eternal glory, for she did dissipate several factions, shattered many confederacies and plots, and reduced them all unto the King's obedience. In the mean time Amasis, who in the eyes of all the world seemed only the friend of Ladice. did really become her lover, and a lover loved, because she had a belief that he was the only man who loved her, in consideration of her person, and not of her favour, not knowing that his soul was filled fuller of secret ambition, than it was of love: yet did she find some difficulties in the matter, for there was then no suitable proportion between Amasis and his rivals, nor between him and herself, yet notwithstanding, since she did most passionately love him, and thought herself obliged; and since he courted her with unequalled respects, and had served the King in many occasions with much fidelity, since he got much glory in the War with Tyre and Sydon, and since her inclination prompted her to prefer him before all the World, and since her soul was disengaged from all others, she could with more ease overcome all other obstacles, and resolve to marry him, if she could have any infallible assurance that those who then courted her, and whom she kept from disturbing the state, would not renew all their factions, especially at that time when the King was engaged in a war with the Cyrenians: But Amasis being in great favour, and knowing all her thoughts, and all the impediments of his happiness, he redoubled his courtship and suit for some further assurances of her affection; for since he saw a necessity of his going to the Wars with the King, and knew that some of his rivals would stay behind with the Queen, he feared lest in his absence Ladice should change her mind, so that seeming desperate, he told her absclutely he would not go with the Army, that he had rather lose his honour, then hazard the loss of her affection; and was so resolute in his expressions, that indeed she thought he would not go. However Sir, Ladice loving Amasis very well, and having resolved to marry him assoon as this War was ended, this ambitious lover found it no knotty matter to win her unto a marriage in secret: And indeed Ladices heart being as full of Love, as the heart of this secret lover was full of ambition; a few days after the King's departure they were married privately in a little Church, without any other witnesses but the officers of the ceremony, except one of her women in whom she trusted: By this means Amasis was in a quality to enjoy the benefit of Ladices favour, which he desired more than the enjoyment of her beauty: However, Amasis went now to the Army, and was husband to the fair Ladice: But to put herself into a condition of publishing her marriage after the War, she procured the King by the Queen's mediation to make him one of his Lieutenant Generals, his fidelity and courage being the pretence of her suit, though it seemed something extraordinary to the Queen, yet the Queen condescended unto it. In the meanwhile this War wanted a plausible gloss, for it was said Apriez did make it, only to secure the Grandees of his Dominions, lest they should ruffle into a civil War; however the beginning was prosperous enough, Amasis' performed very considerable services, he won the hearts of the soldiers, and was Master of the Army: whensoever Apriez encountered with his enemies, he baffled them; so that though no main battle had been yet fought, yet there was enough done to get a reputation unto his Army, and strike a terror into the enemy's country. This being the state of things, Apriez gave Amasis the command of ten Thousand men in his Army, with them to assault the enemies upon another side, thereby to separate their Forces, and then more easily to conquer them: but things did not succeed according to his design, for the Cyrenians would not divide themselves, so that not separating their Army, they did that which Apriez would have done, which was, they forced him to fight and vanquished him: his Army was so absolutely defeated, that he was forced to return unto Sais, where he left his Queen, and where he arrived full of shame and sorrows; for he had not only lost the Battle, but the loss of Blood was so much, that it put all Egypt into mourning. Apriez in his return to Sais, sent for Amasis to come unto him, and commanded him to draw off those forces under his command from the enemy's country, and keep them upon the frontiers; leaving order unto the other Lieutenant Generals, to rally as many as they could of his shattered army: Amasis obeying the King, was very glad he had no share in the dishonour in this defeat, and that he was able to tell Ladice that he had done nothing unworthy of the honour she did him. In the mean time, the loss of this Battle caused a general revolt in all Egypt, both people and soldiers began to murmur, and an universal report went all over, that Apriez did suffer himself voluntarily to be vanquished; that he divided his army purposely to ruin some Grandees of his dominions, whom he thought did trouble him, hoping after that to reign more imperiously over them, and become more Tyrannical. However Sir, whether the Soldiers spoke this from themselves, or from the instigation of Amasis; it is most certain, that all the rallied troops, with those which Amasis brought upon the frontiers, did seem to revolt, and make head against their Prince: Apriez no sooner heard this, but to calm this mutiny, resolved to send Amasis to the army, looking upon him as a plausible man with the soldiers, and faithful unto him. Amasis' accepting of this commission, prepared to go unto the Army; but before he went, Ladice used all her persuasions and arguments which could move him to do the King and his country good service upon this occasion; adding unto all her prayers, that if he could at this time pacify the Army, and by consequence all Egypt, she would then acquaint both the King and the Queen with her marriage, who could not possibly disapprove of it, after such a considerable service. But Sir, since Amasis' married Ladice more for ambition then love, he could not keep within those limits which this generous Princess prescribed him: yet when he came first unto the Army, he began to do like a faithful subject; and I am persuaded, where his enemies say, that then he had none but good intentions, and as ambitious as he was, would have made himself a fortune by noble ways: He drew up all his Army into Battallia, and calling all the officers together he showed them their fault, and the injustice of their proceedings. But whilst he was thus speaking unto them, an Egyptian took a Helmet, and putting it upon the head of Amasis as is used at the coronation of our Kings; let me put thee into the possession of the Kingdom of Egypt (said the soldier unto him) and talk no more to us of obeying Apriez, for we will not have a King that hath been conquered. The insolent speech of this soldier, being prompted unto it by many others, was seconded by a general acclamation; so that Amasis saw it was in his choice whether he would be King or no. This rousing up the ambition of his soul, he consulted not with generosity, or reason, or glory, which forbids any to reign by unjust ways, but did blindly, and totally submit unto his ambition: Yet at first he rejected the proposition, but yet so faintly, and after such a manner as made all the Soldiers second their acclamations, and say Amasis must be their Sovereign. Then, Sir, Amasis began to speak as a man who was forced to receive the Sovereign power, yet he would not directly take upon him the Quality of a King; but told them that to acknowledge their confidence in him, he would be their Protector, and promised never to leave them until he had obtained their pardon, and also new Privileges: But the more Amasis' excused himself, the more violent were all the Officers and Soldiers, who all unanimously said they would have him to be their King. However Amasis dispatched a messenger to the Court, and to let Apriez know how sorry he was for this accident; assuring him, that he would not seem to accept of any part of this power which the Soldiers gave him, but only to reduce them unto obedience: But at the same time he sent one of his servants secretly unto the Princess Ladice, conjuring her to retire from the Court, and to come and receive a Crown which the Gods by his hand did offer her. In the mean time the King was advertised by some faithful Officers of the Army how things passed, and he grew into such a choler against Amasis, that in lieu of dissembling his resentments, he railed against him as a Rebel, and dispatched a man of good Quality, named Paterbenis with orders to join with some few Officers who were faithful, and to seize upon the person of Amasis, or else kill him if they could not take him. On the other side, Ladice, who was truly generous, and did extremely disapprove of this manner of acting, though she did extremely love Amasis, yet she sent him word, that she was so far from removing away from the Court, or participating of his Crime, as she would declare, that if he did not quickly return unto his duty, she would become his most mortal Enemy: Yet did she endeavour to gloss the matter at Court as much as she could; but all in vain; for Apriez being resolved already upon his course, dispatched Paterbems with his Commission, yet it took not success; for as secret as it was carried, Amasis did know it: So that when Paterbenis came to the Camp, he found him he was already acquainted with the business of his voyage. When he came unto him, he found him busy in exhorting the Soldiers to draw up into Battalia, and to defend his life which Apriez would take from him by some amongst them. Paterbenis coming to him as Amasis was thus busied, he resolved to speak unto him as if the King did credit all which Amasis told him, and as if he did not suspect his fidelity; to the end he might gain more time to plot with those Officers of the Army who advertized Apriez of the truth: But Amasis knowing the cause of his coming, gave him no time to talk: No, no, Paterbenis, said he unto him, Dissemble not that which I know as well as yourself; You come with intentions to carry my head unto Apriez, but I cannot believe these Soldiers who Crowned it will suffer you; therefore I advise you to return immediately, and tell that Prince who sent you, that if he defend his Crown as well as I shall my head, I shall not be King a long while. Paterbenis would have replied unto this bold language, but there was such an acclamation amongst the Soldiers at the answer of Amasis, as the Messenger saw his best course was to return; for the Soldiers began to threaten him with insolent menaces. Paterbenis then returned to Sais, where Apriez was in his stately Palace which he had newly built; yet he found but faint entertainment from her; for this unfortunate King seeing the ill success of his voyage, believed he did comply with Amasis, so that upon the information of some Soldiers who followed him, who affirmed that if he had stayed a little longer in the Army, there had been a mutiny, he did not only arrest him, but put him to death. This hasty and violent death did ruin Apriez; for Paterbenis being a man of much integrity and known honesty to all the world, the people of Sais did exceedingly murmur at it. All the friends of Amasis fearing the like treatment from the King, since he was capable of so unjust an act, did take their friend's part, and went unto him, and amongst the rest, the Father of Heracleon: So that in less than a month, Amasis had a formidable army which still did every day increase from all the Provinces of Egypt. In the mean time the heart of Amasis was very restless; love of Ladice did strive with his ambition, yet could not vanquish it, and so much the less, because his marriage with her being not known, she was in less danger of Apriez his violence; but alas, this unfortunate Princess was much to be lamented; for she was not only forced to separate from her dearly loved Amasis, but she perceived she was with child, & consequently must tell the Queen (whom she tenderly loved, and who tenderly loved her) that she was Wife to him who would pull her from the Throne. Being put to this extremity, she consulted with all her thoughts and endeavours how to win Amasis unto repentance; and in order to that, she sent to acquaint Amasis with her condition; and after a thousand most tender and persuasive arguments and invitations, she sent to tell him, that if he would not condescend unto her desires, she would acquaint the King how she was his wife, and shared in his crime, and so consequently, the next news he should hear, would doubtless be, that he had lost both a Wife and a Child; since it was not probable, but he who put to death the innocent, would take the same course with the Wife of an Usurper who confessed herself culpable. But all the persuasions and threats of Ladice were in vain: For Amasis did think that the Queen loved her better than to see her perish, and that Ladice was wiser than to accuse herself, and therefore he sent her word, that he thought himself unworthy of that honour which she had done him, unless he pursued his design, and set her upon a Throne. To that end he caused it to be proclaimed, that he was descended from the Line of the first Kings of Egypt, from whom the Predecessors of Apriez had usurped the Sovereign Power: So that to give some colourable gloss to his rotten cause, he made it pass for good, and strengthened himself the more: Apriez, seeing himself forsaken of his own Subjects, and particularly of Heracleons' Father, who was a man of great power, made use of some Auxiliary Forces; The jonians, the Carians, and some other Asiatic people, raised him thirty thousand men; so that being in the head of this army, he went out of Sesse with resolutions to fight. One thing is here observable, which never perhaps was seen before; the right King of Egypt had not one Egyptian in his army, which was composed all of Strangers; and on the contrary, all the army of the Usurper was composed of natural Subjects, who fought against their right King. In the mean time the miserable Ladice having not power to execute the message she sent unto Amasis, hoping still to move his heart, she remained in unconceivable sorrows: for she knew, that had not she been a Mediator for him, he could never have arrived at that pass: So that looking upon herself as the only cause of his crime, of her Country's desolation, and of the State's ruin, there was not a day but she desired death. Nor did she know what she should ask from the gods: But ever refigning herself unto their will, she waited for the success of War with more restlessness of mind than did the Queen. Sesostris her only son was then some four or five years old, but his innocency could not prevent the Fate of his Father, for the more unjust side was the more fortunate: But not to stay you too long, Sir, in this part of my story, I shall only in a few words tell you, how the Army of Apriez, and that of Amasis' joining near Memphis, where those high aspiring Pyramids look over all the rest of Egypt, this fatal Battle to Apriez was lost: At the first encounter he was wounded, and a while afeer taken; and lastly, in a most strange manner, lost his life: for those into whose hands he fell, disagreeing who should have the honour of presenting him unto Amasis, did quarrel amongst themselves amidst a Battle, and that with so much rage and fury, that one of them thinking his side the weaker, did desperately turn towards this unfortunate King who stood in the midst of them, and with an unexampled inhumanity killed him, rather than his companions should enjoy that advantage which he could not get himself. Thus, Sir, you see how this miserable King lost both his life and Kingdom, and upon what Title Amasis came unto it. You may imagine how sad this news was unto the Queen, when she heard her Husband had lost both Kingdom and life, and consequently, the young Sesostris the Crown. But how great soever her sorrows were, yet were they less than the Generosity of Ladice, who could never enjoy any comfort in being the Wife of an Usuper. This sad Queen endeavoured all she could to move the people of Sesse unto fidelity, and oppose Amasis; but the hatred of the Inhabitants against Apriez was so high, as that they were so far from doing as she desired, though it was in a little River of Tears, showing unto them her young Son, that they mutined afresh, and would all take the stronger side: So that this deplorable Queen fearing they would seize upon her person, and her young Son, was forced to fly the Town in the night, and to retire with a very small number unto a strong Castle which was some thirty furlongs from Sesse; as she had resolved from the first in case of necessity. As she was ready to depart, accompanied with her dear Ladice, there came a Messenger from Amasis to the Princess his Wife, to tell her of his Victory, and also to will her not to engage herself in the misfortunes of the Queen, unto whom for her sake, he would leave a Province in Egypt upon condition she would put the young Sesostris into his hands. Ladice no sooner heard this proposition, but she exclaimed against Amasis, and told the Messenger whatsoever the Queen could desire. Go (said she unto him) and tell Amasis, that I was born a Subject unto a King before I was his Wife; and my being married could not disoblige me from my first duty, nor ever shall, unless he will restore unto the young Sesostris that Crown which he usurped from the unfortunate Apriez: After which, not suffering him to speak a word more, she went unto the Queen, who stayed for her to depart. Never was flight more happy than this; for the Queen was no sooner out of the Town, but the people were in her house, to execute that order which Amasis had sent by him who spoke to Ladice; which order was, that the Inhabitants should be in Arms, and secure the persons of the Queen, of Sesostris, and Ladice. But the gods, who doubtless were pleased to preserve Sesostris, moved this Envoy of Amasis to speak unto Ladice, before he did unto the Inhabitants. Thus this young Prince, and these two unfortunate Princesses escaped from the Victory of Amasis. This great Queen was also so happy in her flight, that none of them knew which way she went: But since they could not be ignorant long, Ladice, who would not be delivered in a house which might come into the hands of Amasis, advised the Queen not to stay in it, but to go further off where they should not be so soon found: And so they did. But alas, these two Princesses had not sooner any leisure to reckon up the sum of their present miseries, and lament them together, but they were given to understand that all took part with the Conqueror; that high and low Egypt did both of them acknowledge his power, and that all the Provincial Towns sent their Deputies to promise fidelity: That Says, Thebes, Memphis, Bubastis, Sienna, Busiris, Canope, and Anisis did submit; and that Amasis was Master of all Egypt, except Elephantine, which yet took time of consideration. They understood, that all the Calasires, and Hermobites (for so we call the Noblemen amongst us) did obey him without murmur, because they all hoped Amasis would let them have more power than they had under Apriez. So that seeing no hopes of any relief from any side, the Queen was in the most deplorable condition of any in the world: From the sterile Deserts of Lybia she could expect no relief, which is on the West side of Egypt; on the South, the Cataracts of Nilus, and the Mountain's block up all Passes; and on the East, doubtless, Sir, you know the vast Fens along that Province which is called Barathra, and which separates Syria from Egypt, do hinder the march of any Troops; and on the North side, the ways are all inaccessible; neither could the Queen expect my relief from the jonians, nor the Carians, who lost all their Forces at the last Battle: Egypt within was all revolted, so that she had no way but to fly, or die. This great Queen had a man with her, whose name was Amenophis, Brother unto my Mother, a man of extraordinary spirit and virtue, brought up in the house of the late King, whose fidelity was well known unto the Queen, and Ladice, and unto whom he was a professed friend: Amenophis, to cheer up the courage of the Queen, and to persuade her to submit herself unto the pleasure of the gods for better fortune, advised her to think of no course considering the state of things, but how to hide herself, and the Prince Sesostris, and to see whether tract of time would alter the face of things. The Queen then referring the conduct of herself unto the prudence of Amenophis; he resolved for Elephantine, which yet had not totally submitted. But, Sir, be pleased to know, that when the Battle was fought, the River Nilus began to rise, so that when the Queen took a resolution to quit that place where she was, to seek a sanctuary further off, this River, according to its custom, over-flowed all the Country, so that she was forced to change the place as much out of necessity as reason; for when this Deluge was at the height, all Egypt was water, unless Hills, and Towns built upon them, which seemed like little Islands, and the Campaigne like Sea at that time about them. Amenophis then provided a Boat to transport this deplorable company: And as this swelling of Nilus did on the one side trouble them, so on the other, it kept them from falling into the power of Amasis, who by reason of this Inundation could not send any Troops from Sesse, nor make any exact search for the Princesses. But, I beseech you, Sir, imagine a little not only in what a pitiful condition the Queen, and the young Prince her Son were, but also in what a sad case that unhappy Ladice was: For since she now grew big, though it was not perceived, yet since she was to go with the Queen to justify herself, she must needs tell that she was Wife unto Amasis. However, she was resolved not to forsake her, nor did not: Amenophis having provided all things necessary for fifteen days, they embarked from the place where they were, though the house was not near water when the River was within i●s Channel. Their Boat at one end had a Cabin covered with Canvas; under which was the Queen, Sesostris, Ladice, and two women of the Queens: At the other end was Amenophis, two Servants, and the Rowers. Imagine, Sir, in what a condition this Queen was, who of a great Kingdom had nothing left but a little Cockboat, in danger to perish by the impetuosity of the Nile, by the Crocodiles, by the Hypopothames, and a thousand most horrid Monsters wherewith that river is filled: which way soever they looked, they could see nothing but water, which was making the land of her enemies fertile, if she cast her eyes upon poor Sesostris, they swum in tears, to see in his face so many signs of grandeur in so despicable a fortune, & to find so many symptoms of a great heart in so tender an age, for he was not at all dismayed at the tossing of the waves, and bounding of the Boat: thus this miserable Queen, not knowing which way to look for any consolation, turned towards her dear Ladice; but in lieu of finding any in her eyes, she saw them swim in tears, and full of so much melancholy, that her own was more augmented, Amenophis only was he who gave her some comfort: However, the River Nile was not so troublesome as she apprehended, because it was not so great where she crossed, as it was in the province of Delta, whose situation is very low, and nothing to be seen but the form of this Greek Letter, whose name it carries; so that after eight or ten days rowing, they found some towns where they might refresh and rest themselves in the night. I forgot to tell you Sir, that the Queen, Sesostris and Ladice had no such signs of greatness in their garments, lest they should be known; & truly I think they needed no disguisment, for though the habit of a Queen and a Shepherd be very different, yet sorrows had so changed the countenances of these Princesses, that they were less knowable than any disguise of garments could make them; only they had all their Jewels about them, in Case of need. But Sir, I have so many things to relate, that I shall not spend any time in telling you, how they were twice in danger of drowning, by certain Winds, which blow always when the Nile is high, they are called the Etesian Winds, and I have so many other things to relate which will move your pity, that I shall not meddle with this: But let me tell you Sir, that after all imaginable impediments of this dangerous voyage, they came at last into a Town, situated upon a high hill, and with works to repulse the waves, which is not above sixty furlongs from Elephantine; in this place Amenophis heard how that Town was at last resolved to obey Amasis, and that deputies were going to swear fealty to their new King. Thus after a long and dangerous voyage, hoping to find a place of Sanctuary, the Queen was loaded with a new burden of sorrows, so that she had no way now but to hide herself: But the better to do so, they must not go unto Elephantine, and therefore the Queen consulted with Amenophis, who was well acquainted with that Country, and upon better thoughts he remembered a Shepherd of his acquaintance, whose Father heretofore served his, and who dwelled in a very solitary place and pleasant, where the Queen might be both safe and convenient: so that without more ado, they went that way, and the next morning came to a little Isle, which doubtless the Gods did purposely create for a Sanctuary and place of retreat unto this great Princess: for Sir, I am confident that nature never framed such a place as this; it is about fifteen or sixteen furlongs in length, and something oval, in the midst of it is an high hill, where one may retire when Nilus is high, and where the pastures are only inhabited by Shepherds, in cabbines, this hill is full of Sicomores, whose shadow is very delightful, and at the foot of it unto the river banks, are meadows, so thick, so fresh, so sweet, and fair, as it seemed to be a most fertile land: a million of water-trees did shadow these pleasant meadows in divers places, and as if the Gods had designed that those who inhabit in it should not be discovered by passengers in Boats, it is set round about with a thick and high hedge of Osiers, and rose trees, which grow so close to the water, and adorn it, and as if it did both invite and forbid an entrance unto all those that came unto it, all the Rosetrees were intermingled with a kind of wild Lilies, which grow along the River Nilus, and whose odour perfumes the whole Isle. This Sir was the pleasant desert which served for a Sanctuary and retreat unto the Queen. Amenophis was no sooner landed, but he went to seek him who he knew lived there, and having found him, he disposed him to entertain some persons which fled from the persecution of the new King, yet not telling who they were, though he enjoined close secrecy: then they went unto his house, which was the greatest and nearest in all the Isle, which had not above ten or twelve in all, and they so separated one from another, that they might easily go in and out undiscovered by any: he found this Shepherd had wit enough, but something covetous, which fault the more pleased Amenophis, who having wherewith to satisfy the humour of the man, thought he would make him very faithful to the Queen; and indeed he was so, for he never spoke a word unto any of the rest in the Isle; since it was late when they landed, none did discover them, all the Shepherds being busy in driving their flocks unto their folds, so that Amenophis had all that night to instruct his Shepherd, whose name was Traseas, a married man, whose Wife was called Nicetis: he told them then (after a good reward in hand, and large promises of more if they were faithful) his best course was to say unto therest of the Shepherds, that these people in his house were forced out of their homes by the floods, which when it was passed would return, & in the mean time stay here, that they dwelled beyond Elephantine: Since they were already sufficiently disguised, they stood in need of no great change of Garments; the men which rowed the Boat were kept there for the wafting of their two servants into any Town to fetch such things as they needed: So that this little retreat for its tranquillity, did so satisfy the Queen, that she hoped the Gods would preserve Sesostris for some better fortune: But yet the sighs and tears of Ladice redoubled; for seeing the must make known her Marriage unto the Queen, unless she would dishonour herself in her opinion, she resolved upon it, the third day after they came into the Isle: As she was then in the morning with this Princess, who never stirred out of her Cabin since she came into it, she began to conjure her with a flood of tears in her eyes, to promise not to hate her after she had acquainted her with a business: Such language unusual did surprise the Queen, who knowing no possible cause why she should hate Ladice, promised she would not, in the presence of Amenophis, and protested she would love her as long as she lived, let her say what she would. Then this unhappy Princess began to acquaint her in few words, but many, many sighs and tears, with her Marriage unto Amasis, and the condition she was in: And in such moving manner as would have inspired pity into the most barbarous heart. No, no, Madam (said Ladice unto her, after she had made a full relation) you are not obliged to keep promise with the Wife of an Usurper; and I repent that I did ask it of you: Hate me, hate me, as you ought to do the Wife of your Enemy, though truly I am at this present a most mortal enemy unto him, nor will ever pretend unto any greatness which Amasis hath gotten by unjust ways, and do so horridly hate his action, that I do not only hate him, but myself also. In the mean time, Madam, if your sorrows can find any satisfaction by taking revenge of Amasis upon my person, do it, I conjure you: For since he hath so much slighted my prayers and desires, I think he cares not for my life, therefore I refer it unto your disposition: I ask no other favour from you, but to think me innocent; and that if I could, I would pull the Sceptre out of the hands of Amasis, and give it unto Sesostris, though I were a slave all the days of my life. Ladice, having told her tale in so sad a manner, the Queen as generous as she, began to answer her with a kiss; for she could not possibly express her wonder at the virtue of this Princess, who had voluntarily exiled herself, rather than to reign unjustly: But after her spirits were a little recollected, she began to comfort her, and tell her she would love her as well as before, and much better. Amenophis did second the Queen with all the comforts he could, and gave her as many praises as she deserved; but she did reject all applauds in so generous a manner, as did more and more tender the heart of the Queen. After this, the sorrows of this Princess swollen her heart so full, tha● she fell sick, and so sick, as she died the third day: But in losing her life, she gave it unto a Daughter, which was a most perfect Miracle of Beauty. But, Sir, since the death of Ladice was no less generous than her life, I must needs relate in few words the particulars of it. After that she had brought to light this fair Daughter, whose life was as extraordinary as her birth, and that she perceived she could not live, to lose no precious time, she called for Pen, Ink, and Paper, and writ these words unto Amasis.  
Dying LADICE unto Ambitious AMASIS.  
SInce I have but one quarter of an hour to live, I have not time to say much unto you, but know that I leave you a Daughter which perhaps you shall never see, if you do not restore the Crown unto young Sesostris: and I think myself happy, that in dying I have left some pawn in his hands. I wish unto the Gods that you could see me die; for perhaps it would cool that ambitious passion which hath caused the death of  
LADICE.  
After the Princess had read over her Letter, she gave it unto Amenophis, desiring him to keep it carefully, and to make use of it when he saw fit: Afterwards turning towards the Queen, she implored her pardon in beseeching her to preserve the life of this daughter unto young Amasis, because as long as she was in her power, she might perhaps give some stop unto the ambition of the Father. The truth is, Sir, this unfortunate Princess spoke unto the Queen, as if she wished life unto her Daughter only for love of her, and if she had lost that natural affection which is in all mothers, which is, to wish life unto their children for the love's sake which they bear unto them. The Queen was extremely moved to see the Princess in such a condition, and assured her, that she would not look upon this Child as the daughter of Amasis, but as the daughter of Ladice, and consequently would have as great care of her as of her own: after this assurance Ladice thanked the Queen, with eyes swimming in tears; then neglecting all worldly cares, her thoughts were all addressed unto the Gods, yet not with one prayer for either Amasis or her daughter, but only for the Queen and young Sesostris, after which she died: You may imagine that there was not very great Pomp at her Funeral, which indeed was with no more ceremony then if she were some Shepherd's daughter of the Isle, lest there should arise some suspicion of them: However, Nicetis was careful in nursing of Ladice's daughter, who was called Timareta: The first days, after the death of this generous Princess, were spent in lamenting her loss; but afterwards, the Queen conforming her mind unto an accident, against which there was no remedy, advised with Amenophis what was best to be done with Ladice's Letter: Amenophis considering the case of things, could not believe that Amasis would restore the Crown unto Sesostris, at the request of dying Ladice, for since he could not moderate his ambitious passion at her conjurations, and at a time when he knew not whether the success would be good or bad, certainly he would not hearken to her when he was in full possession; nor was it credible, that to get out of the Queen's hands a young daughter newly born, he would part with a sceptre; but perhaps when he hears of Ladice's death, he will enter into a new fury, and add revenge unto his ambition, imagining they were the cause of Ladice's death; furthermore he thought that it was to be feared when Ladices Letter was delivered, Amasis might come to know where Sesostris was; therefore his advice was to keep the letter until such time as they were able to raise a party in the State. The Queen then approving of this advice, thought upon nothing but how to conceal herself and son; but this care lasted not long; for Sir, since Nilus was fallen into his accustomed channel, there did arise from the ground certain vapours, which that Year caused a contagion in the Town of Elephantine, which did depopulate almost all the Town, and was brought into this little Isle, by those two men which went in the Boat to fetch them necessaries; but these two men were not alone which lost their lives, for almost all the inhabitants of the Isle did the like, and those who did not fled; Amenophis had fled for company if the Queen had not fallen sick and died, with the two women with her; assoon as Amenophis saw the Queen sick, he resolved to stay with her, but sent away Sesostris with the Wife of a Shepherd, and Timareta with her nurse, into one of those Cabbines which were upon the top of the Hill, which not being inhabited, was not infected with so bad an air, and by this means he saved the life of the young Sesostris: This horrible infection could not last long in the Isle, for there was so few people in it, that it was almost quite depopulated, either by death or flight of the inhabitants: But the most lamentable passage was, that the Queen and her women died in four days, so that Amenophis was left alone in the Isle, with Sesostris, Traseas, Nicetis, Timareta her nurse and one servant. Seeing then the state of things, Amenophis thought it best to keep the Isle still, it being more safe by this accident then before, and more easy to hide the young Sesostris in a depopulated desert, then when it was peopled; and those who fled were so affrighted, that they durst not return, and those who were there, thought Sesostris to be the son of Amenophis, whom they thought a Shepherd, and that Timareta was daughter to Traseas and Nicetis. In the mean while, Amenophis considering the state of things, could not hope to attempt any thing openly against Amasis, therefore he resolved to wait some favourable conjuncture, when he might safely show the young Sesostris unto the people, and that they might know him to be their Prince when occasion was; he took extraordinary care for his education, as well as that solitary place would permit. Sesostris being very young, was not sensible of the Queen his Mother's death, nor remembered any Father, but Amenophis: but to the end he might divert himself, and better learn those things which Amenophis taught him, who was one of the most knowing men of all Egypt, he went secretly unto Elephantine, where then I was, about eight years of age; and since I had no father, but left to the conduct of a mother, who was sister unto Amenophis; he procured me of her, as a comfort to him in his exile; for since she had many children, and Amenophis very rich, she was willing to part with me: so I was carried unto this place of solitude, which at first I was weary of, but custom did better acquaint me with it, and though I was four years elder than Sesostris, yet he had such a quick forward spirit, that I exceedingly loved him: Amenophis had no other business or delight, but to teach us such things as our ages were capable of; Traseas and his wife took care of the family, and the servant went and came continually between Elephantine and the Isle, to have the news of the world by means of my Mother, who did not yet directly know where her brother was: but still he could hear no news that pleased him; for be pleased to know Sir, that Amasis did think himself as secure and absolute a Master of all Egypt, as if the Throne had hereditarily and justly descended unto him; yet for all that, the Queen and Sesostris not being in his power, they were sharp thorns in his thoughts, he grieved also exceedingly that Ladice followed them; but seeing all his diligent searches were in vain, and that he could learn no further then that they were embarked upon the Nile, he thought his best expedient to divulge all over Egypt that Sesostris and the Queen were drowned, to the end, that the people thinking there was no successor of Apriez living, they would more willingly submit unto him; and to confirm them in this belief, he caused the obsequies of Ladice to be solemnised, knowing certainly (as he said) that she perished with them: In the mean time, he caused secret searches to be made with extraordinary care, which persuaded Amenophis when he knew it, that Amasis had some ill design in it, so that seeing all Egypt was in a hushed tranquillity, he thought upon nothing but the education of Sesostris: And since Astrology is the original science of all Egypt, wherein all persons of any curiosity have some knowledge; Amenophis was expert in it, and found by it, that Sesostris should hereafter see happy days: Yet maugre his Astrology he was once in a mind to quit his desert, and to go and let the people know that their Legitimate Prince lived; for he understood that Amasis' beginning to cheer himself up, after his loss of Ladice, and altogether giving himself up unto pleasures, the people began to murmur, and considering that he was not of the royal race, they began to despise him, not rendering him so much honour as they did before, but said openly, that they remembered him in another picture then now he was, & that though they did not give him honour enough as their King, yet they rendered him too much as he was Amasis; and that since their King and Amasis were not all one, he ought not to complain against them. This Prince hearing how the people began to mutter, did resolve upon an odd course to stop their mouths, yet such a one as produced its effect, and forced Amenophis back unto his Desert. There was in that stately Palace which the late King built, great vessels of Gold which were used in public Feasts, Amasis took all those Vessels and caused them to be melted into a Statue of Osiris, and to be set before the Palace Gates: As soon as it was placed there, all the people flocked about it, looked upon it with profound respect, rendering as much honour as if Osiris had been there: For amongst us the representations of such things as we adore are sacred unto us, even the very Images of Animals are held in veneration. Amasis' seeing out of a Balcone the reverence which the people paid unto this Statue of Osiris, told them that he wondered they should honour this Statue so much, considering it was made out of the Golden vessels which were used in their public feasts, but they returned such an answer as he expected, that it was not the mettle they honoured, but the representation of Osiris: After which he told them, that accordingly they ought not to look upon him as Amasis' only, but as their king, since he did represent Apriez more lively, than this Statue did Osiris. The people being moved by such an example as silenced them, began to reverence Amasis, & the more, because he proclaimed some laws which seemed full of justice, and gave great hopes of his wisdom; for he enacted that all his subjects throughout his dominions, should give an account to the governor of the place where he lived, how he had lived the year before, to the end he might banish idleness and injustice both at once: So that Amenophis no sooner heard how the people began to grumble, but he heard immediately after, that he stood upon faster grounds than ever, as if the Gods had neglected the conduct of the universe, since they suffered an usurper to sit upon the Throne, and the legitimate King to be in exile, brought up in a Desert amongst a company of Shepherds. But Sir, I must not insist longer upon this, since I have many things of great importance to tell you: In the mean time therefore, since Amenophis thought to draw some advantage by the young Timareta, he thought fit to educate her so, as she might hereafter be known unto Amasis without dislike, which he did excellently well by means of my moth, & the great recompenses which he promised, so that she sent him a woman to be tutor to this young Princess: This woman was a Theban, most admirably qualified for the education of such a person as this: divers cross adventures had ruined her family, and forced to seek a livelihood by such a happy servitude as this: her name was Edisea. Thus Sir, Timareta came under her tuition, assoon as she was fit to be taken from her Nurse, who had escaped the contagion as well as she: and be pleased to know Sir, that as Sesostris was a miracle, so Timareta was another, for beauty and spirit, all the parts of her face were so many wonders; her complexion though a little brown, yet most lovely; her hair the purest black that ever was; her aspect was so high and charming, as it did invite both admiration and love: So that I may truly say, never were two children together so amiable as the young Sesostris, and the young Timareta; especially when the lustre of their spirits began to join and shine with their beauties, which was, when Timareta was eight, and Sesostris twelve years of age: For, Sir, I assure you, all their actions and their words were infinitely taking, and transcend their ages. Since naturally I was reasonably active, and had some education before I came into this Isle, I practised all exercises of body with Sesostris, which he performed admirably well, as running, leaping, shooting, the Lute, and such things: As for the Liberal Sciences, Amenophis taught him as well as any Prince in the world stood in need of: He could speak divers Languages, especially the Greek very well: For since Amenophis had the disposition of all the Queens and Ladice's Jewels, we wanted neither Books, nor any thing else which was requisite: Yet our habits were course like Shepherds, and sometimes we went unto the Flocks when Amenophis gave us leave. Again, Edisea educated Timareta as if she were in the Court; though she permitted her to use some such common things as Shepherds use, as the making of fine Baskets of Rushes, weaving strings in several colours, and such like: But Edisea did not only teach her these trivials, but also the Greek language; yet the wonder of all was, to see what a wonderful inclination Sesostris had unto Timareta: He could not endure to be out of her sight; he never contended with her for any thing, but in all things submitted unto her, that at that age complacency was a novelty: If he observed she wanted any Rushes to make her pretty Baskets, wherein she put her fruits and flowers, he went in all haste to get her them: If at any time she desired any Flowers, he was never at rest until he brought her a basket full: he thought so much of pleasing her, that he thought upon nothing else. On the other side, the young Timareta, though very sweet unto all, yet did put such a notable difference between Sesostris and all others, as it was very observable: She approved of all he said; and if two of us present unto her any thing at one time, she would accept that which Sesostris offered before the present of any other. Thus, Sir, we lived until Sesostris was sixteen, and Timareta twelve years of age: But, Sir, as they were amiable in their Infancy, so they were amiable in their riper age, when their spirits did put souls into their beauty, and when they were grown capable of loving: For truly, though Timareta had a design to please a whole Court, she could not take more care of herself than she did: And if Sesostris had a design to publish his spirit unto all the world, he could not have been more exactly careful to please, than he was when he spoke before Timareta. In the mean time, since Amenophis conceived that if Sesostris and Timareta were hereafter to appear in the world as known who they were, it would be advantageous that Timareta should love Sesostris, he did not check this growing affection, no more than Edisea, who always followed the mind of Amenophis, without seeking for other reason, and so much the rather in this, because she perceived all the inclinations of Timareta to be virtuous. In the mean time, since we read all sorts of Books, especially the History of Egypt, sometimes when Sesostris, and I were together, w● talked of many things, especially of Amenophis, and what designs he should have: For, said Sesostris to me, I find by the History of Egypt, that it is divided into six several professions: That the Priests are ordained for sacred things; the Noblemen for Councillors unto their King, for Commanders in their Armies, and Governors of Provinces; that their Soldiers in general think upon nothing but matters of War; that the Merchants busy themselves in nothing but in things belonging to their Traffic; that Labourers follow only their Plough; that Artificers meddle with nothing but what will make them more knowing in their art; and that Shepherds keep themselves within compass of their Fould, and think upon nothing but their Flocks. Yet though we be only Shepherds, I see Amenophis doth instruct us in a hundred things which the Law forbids, and I find my heart too big to be contained within the compass of this little Isle, and I have had some thoughts of making a proposition unto you of leaving it, if— At this word Sesostris stopped, and though I did extremely press him to go on with his sentence, yet I could not move him: So that I was forced to speak his thoughts, and agree with him to steal out of this Isle, relating many things concerning Elephantine, which I remembering very well begot a strong curiosity in him: But for all our plot it was not easy to be executed: For Amenophis had a strict observant eye upon us; and indeed Sesostris did decline it, for he was already deep in love with the young Timareta; being after this very reserved unto each other, we parted, Sesostris saying he would walk by himself, and I saying I would return unto my Cabin: Since we came out with a design to Hunt, Sesostris brought his Bow, and Quiver full of Arrows, with a staff in his hand like those which the Shepherds about Elephantine use to carry, with a steel point at either end, and with which one might defend himself as well as with any Sword: For since in the Province of Elephantine these Crocodiles are not held in veneration as in that of Thebes, where it is not lawful to kill them, but on the contrary they think it a thing well pleasing unto the Gods to purge Nilus from these terrible devourers, and all the Shepherds of this Province carry such Pikestaff●s to kill them, and defend themselves: So Sesostris without any other design then contemplation, walked a long time by the water side, not meeting with any interruption of his study, but at last coming unto a place where a little Isthmus shot itself into the Nile, he espied Timareta, who to take the fresh air, and view of the River, had left Edisea, and came unto this neck of Land, which, as I said, shot itself into the River, and the better to enjoy a prospect, she had made a gap with her fair hands through that hedge of Osiers and Roses which grew along the banks of this Isle, and which was thinner in that place then any where else. Sesostris no sooner spied her, but ravished with joy, he made towards her, yet he had no sooner stepped four paces forward, but he espied upon his right hand, through the thick of Osiers and Roses, one of these terrible Monsters of Nilus, which cutting the water with incredible swiftness, was ready to fall upon the fair Timareta, and pull her into the water with his affrighting talons which those Crocodiles are armed withal: He no sooner saw this fierce Animal, but he cried out, and ran with all haste to get between the Crocodile and Timareta; for though he had Bow and Arrows, yet he knew that both the thickness of the hedge would hinder their execution, and also the scales of the Crocodile were so hard, that it was impossible they should enter: Thus considering this in an instant, he ran with his Pikestaff in his right hand, and his Bow in his left, to get between the Monster, and Timareta. In the mean time, the cry of Sesostris coming to the ears of this young Princess, she turning her head to know the reason, and also seeing the Crocodile coming towards her, she was so amazed with fear, that she was speechless, yet the excess of her fears did not produce their ordinary effects, but the contrary, and made her run as fast as she could towards Sesostris; and the nature of a Crocodile being to be more furious upon them which fly, than those which stand stoutly to them, this fierce Animal fearing to lose his prey, flounced out of the River, made the air echo with the rattle of his scales, and shaking off the foam of water, he followed the fair, and fearful Timareta, who turning her head sometimes, to see whether the Monster were near her, yet ran with incredible swiftness towards Sesostris, who ran also to her relief. Imagine, Sir, I beseech you, what an object was this unto Edisea, who a far off saw this terrible spectacle. In the mean while Sesostris turning upon his right hand to let Timareta pass by, he got betwixt the Crocodile and her, to stay his fury at least, though he could not overcome him. This Monster (which never saw Sesostris, because he looked only upon his fair prey which he pursued) seemed to be surprised, and stopped upon a sudden. But though the nature of the Crocodiles (as I said before) was to be less furious upon those who stoutly stood to them, then upon those which fly, yet since he saw himself so far from his Sanctuary the River, despair did rouse his fury, and he fell upon Sesostris, yet recoiled at first some two or three paces, but it was to return with greater violence; but Sesostris being beyond belief stout, did not at all lose his judgement, so throwing away his bow, and taking his Pikestaff in both hands, the combat began between this fierce Monster and him, whereof the fair Timareta, who was fallen with fear and weariness some twenty paces off, was a witness as well as Edisea, whose affright would neither permit her to go forward nor backward. In the mean time, since Crocodiles can see better upon land then water, this did put by the point of the Pikestaff so cunningly, that Sesostris could not touch him, unless in such places where he could not hurt him, for this armed Monster had only one place where he could receive any mortal wound. Sometimes he would seem weary, and make a retreat purposely to surprise Sesostris; then upon a sudden stretching out his greedy talons, and opening his hellish mouth, wherein all the teeth were poisoned, he would cast himself upon him with such violence, that Timareta often thought her dear deliverer was devoured: The Scales of this horrid Monster made a shrill noise, and would vary into several colours, their russet would become red, and anon blue, his eyes were full of a gloomy fire, his teeth seemed all bloody with the last prey he had devoured; a green and yellow foam spewed out of his throat, and a thick dusky smoke which came from his nose so blinded the eyes of Sesostris, that he could hardly defend himself from his talons; yet his great heart was not at all astonished or weary, but he avoided all the assaults of this affrightiug Monster with such incredible agility, as is admirable, he shifted so nimbly sometimes to the right hand, sometimes to the left, that at every turn he gave him a thrust, but to his great grief all in vain. In the mean time, this gaping Monster would not submit, but with a reach of his paw, scratched all the Arrows out of his Quiver, and with another reach pulled his Quiver quite from him, thinking to pull him also, but by good fortune the quiver loosened, and he escaped the fury of this monster; yet he began to think, he should perish at the last, and had no hope in any thing, but the glory in rescuing his dear Timareta, when the Crocodile rose up right on his hinder feet, intending to throw himself upon the head of Sesostris, but this Hero took that opportunity, to thrust his Pike into his belly, and reached his very heart; it was a happy hit to light just upon that only place where the scales were penetrable: this monstrous beast perceiving himself wounded, bellowed out a horrid noise, and strove to revenge his death; but Sesostris being ravished that he had wounded his fierce enemy, and to see his blood run upon the grass, did hold his pikestaff so stiff and close in the wound, that the monster could not disengage himself, but in lieu of falling upon Sesostris, tumbled on one side, moving very weakly; for since Sesostris would not pull his weapon out of the wound, it was probable he pierced deeper into his heart, or at least kept him that he could not rise: Sesostris now seeing his horrible enemy vanquished, and ready to breathe his last, he pulled his bloody weapon out of the wound, and let the life of this monster run out with his blood; after which, all glorious with Victory, he went to cast himself at the feet of the fair and fearful Timareta, who not being able to pass so suddenly from extreme sorrows into extreme joys, had still all signs of fear in her fair face: I pray you pardon me, said he unto her, for no sooner killing this monster, whose cruelty would have devoured the fairest person in the world. Ah Sesostris, said she, rise up, how is it possible you should speak with such calmness of spirit as you do, for my part (said she and walked towards Edisea who was coming towards her) I am still afraid the monster should revive: Sesostris smiled at the fears of Timareta, with as much tranquillity as if he had been in no danger, and assuring her there was no cause of fear, he helped her to walk: But as Edisea met them, she asked Timareta whether she had given thanks unto her deliverer: Alas, said she unto her, I am still so fearful that the monster is not yet dead, that I shall not be able to thank him all the day; all I can say for his satisfaction is, that whilst he fought with this terrible Monster, I was in as much fear of him as of myself. Alas, amiable Timareta said he unto her, your expression is above my desert, and higher than I can believe. As Timareta was ready to answer Sesostris, and to tell him with what sincerity she spoke her thoughts, Amenophis and I came unto them, so that Edisea relating the combat of Sesostris and his Victory, we forced Timareta to return back and look upon this Monster which Sesostris had killed; I say we forced her, for indeed she feared to look upon him after he was dead, yet with much ado she went: but when we came unto the place where he lay wallowing in his own blood, and saw there was no cause of any fear, she began then to tell Amenophis with an incomparable grace, all the passages, and how the fight was; for the natural modesty of Sesostris only told how he had overcome him, and no more of any circumstances; but the young Timareta helping him out, did aggravate the matter, as if in publishing the glory of Sesostris, she had augmented her own. Amenophis could not choose but wonder at this prodigious encounter, and to consider how the daughter of an usurper should be relieved by him, from whom her Father had taken the Sceptre and Crown; and to see as much amity grow betwixt them, as there was hatred betwixt their Fathers. However, after Amenophis had well considered all these things, whilst Timareta was relating the adventure with an admirable grace, he highly extolled the courage of Sesostris, and told him, that this heroic quality was the duty of all men; that Shepherds as well as Kings ought to be qualified with it; that they were obliged to defend their flocks, as well as Kings their people, and so exhorted him to invigorate his valour. Truly Sir (said he unto him) since there is a marvellous resemblance 'twixt Kings and Shepherds, you need not think strange if I give you the same lessons as if you were the son of a King. And indeed Sir, Amenophis instructed Sesostris in all the morals and politics, under the similitude of a Shepherd, ruling his flock as well, and with as much art, as might instruct a King in ruling his people: and therefore keeping still within his terms, he told Sesostris, that since he had so magnanimously defended Timareta from a monster, he should also defend his flock from wolves. Oh Father, (said Sesostris hastily) I do not love your flocks of sheep, so well as I do the fair Timareta. Amenophis smiled at this answer, as well as Edisea; but Timaret a blushed, and looked downwards, saying something in a low voice, which some understood, yet which they knew was no ill of Sesostris. In the mean time, since it was late, we returned to our cabin, continually talking of Timareta's timerosity and her deliverers courage. The next morning, Amenophis, to incite this young Prince unto a love of glory, did make this known unto all the Shepherds in the Isle, who all admired and applauded his courageous act: These Shepherds when they saw this Monster, they carried him unto a little Chapel which stood in the further part of their Isle towards the east, to render thanks unto the Gods, for saving Timareta and Sesostris from the fury of this Crocodile: the ceremony was performed with a little kind of triumph, for all the Shepherds with their Pipes went to and fro playing tunes of rejoicing and victory: afterwards eight Shepherds carried this monster, and immediately after it, went Sesostris Crowned with a wreath of Palm and Laurel, whereof abundance grew in this Isle: this victorious Prince having his Pikestaff decked with flowers in his right hand; but the pretyest sight was, to see young Timareta, who made the Crown for the Temples of Sesostris, follow him with all the rest of the Shepherdesses, with so much joy in her face, as it may truly be said, she was the greatest ornament unto this rustic triumph, and indeed she was so, especially in the eyes of Sesostris, and his love did so much increase, that he could not long hide that harmless fire which began to burn his heart; so that after thanks given unto the Gods, and after all the Shepherds had brought Sesostris to our Cabin, he was no sooner returned, but taking the Crown from his head, he entered into a little Chamber where Timareta lay, and where she than was, and whilst Amenophis was thanking the Shepherds, and Edisea the Shepherdesses, Sesostris taking that opportunity, went to Timareta with the Crown in his hand: It is most just, said he unto her, that I present this unto you, who have much better merited it then I; and I assure you, I would not have worn it, but because I could not refuse so great an honour as to be Crowned by the fairest hand upon earth; but because I will not be unjust, I prostrate at your feet the same Crown wherewith you adorned my head; for once more let me tell you, it is yourself only which merits all the honour of my victory. Truly (said the young and fair Timareta, with as much becomingnesse and innocency) I do not understand you, but I am very certain it was you who fought with the monster, and killed him: and if fear as well as valour deserved triumph, 'tis I than might claim it as my due, but since it does not, keep it Sesostris, keep this Crown which I have made for you, since 'twas yourself only who fought and vanquished, and who only deserves it. 'Tis true indeed, my dear Timareta, 'twas I who vanquished, said he, but it is you who have vanquished me, for had I not had a most earnest desire to save you, I should have been less valiant, and should perhaps have been vanquished, and consequently it is you who has obliged me. You may say what you please Sesostris, said she, but I am sure I owe my life unto you, and you owe me nothing, for indeed I never did you any service, nor gave you any thing, only this poor Crown, which you would restore back. Ha Timareta, said he, you are much more liberal than you think of, for you have given me a thing which I shall never restore you, and which indeed I cannot if I would: Timareta hearing Sesostris speak thus, began innocently to bethink herself what Sesostris ever gave her; for my part, said she, you take a delight in puzeling me, for truly I remember that you have given me a thousand times, some fruit, and birds, and rushes to make my baskets, but I do not remember I was ever liberal unto you: Yet you have given me a thing, replied he, which I shall keep as long as I live: Then certainly, said she, I gave it you assoon as I came out of my cradle, and at a time beyond my memory: No, replied Sesostris, it was when you were more in years then so: For heaven's sake, said Timareta, tell me what it is? Since you would so earnestly know (replied he, half smiling and blushing) you have given me love: Ah Sesostris, (said she all in confusion, not knowing whether she should be angry or glad) will you recompense me so cruelly for making you a Crown, as to mock at my simplicity? Ah Timareta (said he) will you so cruelly recompense me, for, as you say, saving your life, as that you will give me a death? for I must tell you most seriously, that if you do not think I love you a thousand times better than I do myself, and think it without anger, I shall most infallibly die. Timareta having recollected herself whilst Sesostris was talking: however it be (said she unto him) I declare unto you, that though perhaps I did innocently give you what you say, yet I would not have you recompense liberality for liberality, in giving me the like. As Sesostris was ready to answer, they were called away to dinner; but as long as it lasted, Timareta durst not so much as look upon Sesostris; yet there appeared such carnation blushes in her cheeks, that she was forced unto a necessity of masking them with an excuse, and said, she was so hit with going to the Chapel, that she should not be cool again all that day. But Sir, without further relation of the first conferences between these two illustrious lovers, I shall only tell you, that as Sesostris loved Timareta, and Timareta knew it, so ever since they did agree more amiably. Then Sir, was this Prince pleased to make choice of me for his confident, who had no other secrets to trust me withal, but the violence of his passion; for certainly Timareta did behave herself with an extreme reservedness, so that it may be said, she was wise before her time: moreover Edisea observed her very close; yet the virtue of Timareta was a sufficient guard unto her beauty. However, having put Sesostris unto a thousand tests by as many rigours, she had all imaginable esteem and tenderness of this lovely shepherd: she gave him a thousand innocent testimonies of it upon a hundred occasions; either by her favourable looks, or by some obliging blushes, or by some plausible words, or by a thousand other little expressions, which speak plain enough unto a Lover. It was a great augmentation of affection between these two young Lovers, to think they were like to have no obstacles in their Marriage: The quality of their Parents was equal, their age proportionable; there was not one shepherdess in all the Isle whom Sesostris could endure to talk with one quarter of an hour; nor was there one shepherd which Timareta could endure to look upon: Reason told them both, that Amenophis & Traseas would like of the match: so that without any resistance they gave themselves the liberty of that love which their own merits did create. This being the state of things, Amenophis, Edisea, Timareta, Sesostris, and I, we went one evening to walk in that place where they use to land in that Isle; for since the adventure of the Crocodile, Timareta would not walk any where near the River but about that Port. As we were set upon the Grass, which was diapared with variety of Flowers, Timareta fitting next Sesostris, asked him, if he did see a Boat which was coming towards the Isle? he answered her, that she did him wrong to ask him such a question, for if she were in company he never looked upon any thing but herself; but upon her serious demand, he looked, and indeed spied a Boat making towards them; so that showing unto Amenophis what Timareta showed him, we all looked upon this Boat; but it being late, and beginning to darken, we could not discover the persons in it. The thing which Amenophis most wondered at, was, because it was not ordinary for any Strangers to come unto that Isle; but the Bark drawing nearer, we discovered in it a man of grave and serious physiognomy, yet very comely, who not regarding us, nor any thing the company did, looked only upon the Moon, which dimly shined. The rest of the men were only Rowers, one of which came on shore, and asked Amenophis, whom he thought to be the Master of the company, whether a be-nighted stranger could possibly obtain the favour of a night's lodging in the Isle, his intentions being for Elephantine, but being so late they conceived it dangerous to land in that Port in the night. Amenophis hearing the man speak, and knowing by his garb and habit, that the man in the Boat was a stranger, he did not only let him have leave to lodge in the Isle, but let him have his own Cabin. Afterwards enquiring of what Country, he understood he was of Samos: after he knew his Country, Amenophis asked his Name? it was answered Pythagoras. Then were the spirits of Amenophis filled with joy, and he resolved to make him the best entertainment possible: For Amenophis being an intimate Friend unto the High Priest of Memphis, and by means of my Mother held a secret correspondency with all his intimate friends, intending to use them as occasions served, he had not long since received a Letter from his friend, which intimated, that Pythagoras was arrived at Memphis: You may imagine, Sir, how Amenophis was joyed, being a man of deep knowledge, who since his exile had no other company but Sesostris, Edisea, Timareta, and myself. His joys were the more, because he understood from the High Priest of Memphis, that Pythagoras would not return unto the Court of Amasis, and therefore there was no danger in receiving him: So going unto the Boat, he offered his hand unto Pythagoras, to help him out, and addressing his speech unto him, I render most hearty thanks unto the Gods (said he in the Grecian language) for bringing a man into this Desert, whose Reputation transcends all the reports of those seven Sages which Greece at this time boasts of. This Philosopher wondering to hear Amenophis speak unto him, and in the Grecian tongue, saluted him with a Majestic civility, and to show the esteem he held of our Nation, he would not answer him in Greek, but in the Egyptian Language. Thus did these two Renowned men at their first meeting greet one another, but not in their natural Languages, both of them retaliating equal Civilities. The Compliments of Pythagoras were short, for doubtless you know, Sir, how this Philosopher was so great a lover of silence, that he would have his Disciples study five years, and not speak: His Maxim being, to say little, and hear much; and the only way to speak well, was to hear much. However, that little he spoke, was enough to charm Amenophis, who carried him into his Cabin, after he had presented Sesostris unto him as his son, and all the rest of his Family as servants unto Pythagoras. But, Sir, all the diligence of Amenophis to bid him welcome was ill bestowed: for this Philosopher never eat any thing which had life in it, but Figs and Fruits were a fine Feast unto him. After this slight repast, Amenophis began to discourse of the most sublime Sciences, and so admirably well, that this Philosopher charmed with his knowledge, told him, that since his business in Egypt was only to learn, & know those great men in it, he must needs stay a while with him, & not go so soon to Elephantine, where he could not meet with better company. Amenophis received his discourse with much modesty, and conjured him to let him become his Scholar, as well as two more, meaning Sesostris and myself: In short, Sir, Pythagoras resolved to stay some time in the Isle, so that he sent back the Boat which brought him, and liked his solitude so well, that he stayed there four Months. In which time he instructed Sesostris with much delight; for this great Philosopher was so ravished to find so wonderful a disposition in the spirit of this young Prince to learn the highest things, as he taught him both with wonder and delight. He admired also the young Timareta, and so much the more, because (said he) I never knew any of her sex who could so handsomely be silent, or speak quicker when there was need, or suffer others to speak with more patience. The truth is, Sir, he took an extreme delight in her: For his opinion being, that all souls do transmigrate from one body into another, either men, beasts, birds, or any animals (which the Greeks call Metempsuchosis) he had an universal compassion of all living things; as oft as he found Fishers with their Nets full of Fishes, he would buy them all, and set them at liberty. And after he had been a while in our Isle, he took notice that the young Timareta had many little birds in cages which sung very sweetly, and that she loved them exceeding well because Sesostris gave them. The Philosopher according to his Doctrine gave liberty to these birds, and thereby did exceedingly grieve Timareta for the loss of her birds, and Sesostris for the sorrows of Timareta; yet did they murmur at their loss only in secret; for as Sesostris received many sapient Documents from Pythagoras, so he practised that silence which he taught his Scholars. Sesostris talking with Timareta after her loss, told her, as pitiful as Pythagoras was, he was not able to set him at liberty as he had done her birds. Truly, replied she, I should think it more just to set men at liberty rather than birds. But, Timareta, there is a great difference between them and me; for those birds are glad of their freedom, but I should be sorry any should break my chains: So since Pythagoras intends only a good unto those he frees, when he knows I am your captive, he would not release me: But as for your part, fair Timareta, why do not you follow the example of this great Philosopher, and become pitiful? would you have me set you at liberty, replied she, as he hath done my birds? No, replied he, but I would have you make me happy in my captivity. How shall I do that? (replied she.) The way is, answered he, by obliging me more unto you, by charming me with a million of harmless favours; by being gladder when you see my love augments, than all Egypt is when they see the Nile to rise; and (if it would not anger you to say it) by participating with me in my Fetters: Ah Sesostris, said she, would you have me to be pitiful, and yourself so cruel as to wish my captivity? Fie, fie, it were not just; therefore all I can do is to tell you, it shall not be long of me, if you be not free. Then you do not love me at all (replied he, and looked sadly upon her.) I do not see, replied she, how you can draw that conclusion from what I said; for what greater good can be done to a prisoner then to set him at liberty? yet you never gave those pretty birds which sung so sweetly and delighted you, their liberty, replied Sesostris. I do confess it (said she) for their imprisonment pleased me better than their liberty. I beseech you, replied Sesostris, why will not my captivity please you also, since I am, and ever will be an eternal slave unto your beauty? As Timareta was about to answer, Amenophis came and interrupted. However, you see the Documents of Pythagoras were no hindrances to the love of Sesostris, but rather taught him a thousand innocent ways to become more amiable, and his passion did still so violently increase, that he asked Timareta leave to move a Marriage unto Amenophis. This motion much surprised him; for he did not think it within the sphere of his Authority to marry Sesostris unto the Daughter of Amasis: Yet for all that, he was willing Timareta should love Sesostris still; For when things were ripe, and that he had raised a party in the Kingdom, this might be a means of peace between the Legitimate King and the Usurper, at least would be a good Hostage: For Amenophis knew, that though Amasis was married, yet he had no children with his Wife, nor could have, because he had repudiated this second Wife: And though this motion did surprise him, yet he told Sesostris, that his choice was worthy of his spirit and judgement; but yet he was not of age fit for Marriage: That his Marriage was a matter of greater importance than he imagined; and that Timareta was such a Jewel as he must long hope for before he enjoyed it. This too strict answer not satisfying Sesostris, he still added his prayers unto his reasons; but all in vain, for he grew so extremely melancholy and sad that he was hardly knowable. All the documents and advisements of Pythagoras which Amenophis employed, were to no purpose: For this young man making use of his own Doctrines against him, told him, that since the Destinies did govern the Universe, and that men were not Masters of their own actions, he ought not to be condemned for loving Timareta with so much violence, since he did but what he could not choose to do. The truth is, Sir, this Prince was so incensed at the refusal of Amenophis, that he would not study, nor walk, nor recreate, nor do any thing, but lament: And that which most augmented his sorrows and melancholy was, that Amenophis thinking the sight of Timareta was a main cause of his distempers, he resolved to send her to my Mother at Elephantine for a while: So that unknown to Sesostris, Edisea departed the next morning by break of day, with Timareta, carrying orders with them unto my Mother, that she should pass under the notion of one of her Cousins, and to put her into such a habit as was suitable to that quality. The design was so cunningly executed, that Sesostris knew nothing of it, and that Timareta could not speak to him at parting: But at last Sesostris seeing her gone, he was so sad, that it was impossible for any to be more: Yet since he thought Amenophis to be his Father, he did not exclaim against him, but complained of his misfortunes unto me, and in such a manner, as would have moved a heart of stone to pity. Pythagoras' being informed by Amenophis of the cause of Timareta's exile, and of Sesostris his sorrows, did employ all his Physic of Philosophy to cure or comfort him, but all in vain; for not knowing where Timareta was, or could be, he continued in a most sad condition. In the mean while, Pythagoras being called away, he prepared for his departure; and since he resolved to be gone very timely in the morning, he took his leave over might of Amenophis, who happened to be so ill, that he could not bring him to his Boat. Sesostris knowing this, resolved to quit the Isle which was intolerable to him, and to go and seek Timareta; or at least to let Amenophis know, that he did him wrong, in denying the satisfaction of his desires. He communicated his design unto me, which I approved of, upon condition he would let me follow; for I must confess I was weary of a narrow Isle, which had not one beauty in it worth my passion. But after a departure was agreed upon, the difficulty was how to execute it. As for me, the matter was easy, but Sesostris had many observant eyes upon him; yet he contrived a way to execute his design; for seeing Amenophis was sick, and could not conduct Pythagoras to the boat, he dissembled himself to be lame in a thigh, and not able to stand: So Amenophis seeing him not able to go abroad, nor out of his bed, he could not imagine of any going out of the Isle, and therefore gave no strict orders to observe him, but trusting much in me, he did recomend unto me the care of Sesostris. In the mean time Pythagoras having, as I said before, taken his leave of Amenophis over night, after a promise never to reveal he was in the Isle, he came also to bid adieu unto Sesostris, and I only had orders to wait upon him the next morning. But, Sir, we knowing that there were two Shephearddesses which intended to go the next morning unto Elephantine, I did so tamper with them, that I got one of their habits, which I carried secretly unto the chamber of Sesostris: And the custom of the Egyptian Villages being to wear great white plaited Mantles which cover them from head to foot, when they go unto that Town, Sesostris took one of them to cover his shepherd's habit, and covered his face with a hood as Shepherdesses use; so getting out of the Cabin unperceived, he came to the River side, and stayed with her that was to go unto the Town: So that when Pythagoras came to embark, Sesostris covered with his Mantle entered in also with those two women which were of the confederacy, whom I persuaded that there was no other mystery in the design, but that Sesostris being in love with Timareta, he would go and seek her out: And these women much murmuring that Amenophis should hinder their Marriage, they consented unto our design; and Pythagoras never heeded these women more than he did the Rowers: But then the difficulty was how I should pretend my departure, and at last I hit upon it; and told Pythagoras with a confident look, that Amenophis commanded me to wait upon him as far as Elephantine, so that this Philosopher did not long contend with me, but imagined this to be only a compliment of civility: So I embarked with them, still looking whether Sesostris was well disguised. But, Sir, to trouble you no longer with things of such trivial consideration, be pleased to know we arrived at Elephantine: As soon as we landed, I took leave of my Philosopher, and followed my Shepherdesses, who stayed for me some twenty paces off; then Sesostris had nothing to do, but to throw off his Mantle which covered his Shepherd's habit. Thus in an instant from a Shepherdess he became a Shepherd, and parted from his company, after he had sent a Letter by them unto Amenophis, which he had written before he came out of his Cabin, and if my memory fail not, it contained these words.  
SESOSTRIS unto AMENOPHIS.  
SIR,  
I Ask your pardon for being more obedient unto Love then unto you: For I am forced to it. Certainly I deserve to be excused. Do not wonder, Sir, that since I cannot live without Timareta, I should go to seek her all over the World. I am extreme sorry for taking Miris from you; but obliging terms of friendship has forced him to do almost as much for me as I do for Timareta, and he will quit you to follow my fortunes, which might have been made happy if you would: But I wish yours may be better, and that I may see you again after, but not before I have found Timareta, who is a●l the life of  
SESOSTRIS.  
After he had given this Letter to these women, I desired them to tell those that rowed the Boat, I would not return unto the Isle that day, therefore to let them return and not stay for me; and telling the women that Timareta lived beyond Elephantine. But, Sir, we found ourselves put to a pitiful non plus; for we were given to understand that they landed Timareta on the other side of the River, and not at Elephantine; yet after we had well looked about us, and could not discover any Town where possibly she could be, we concluded she must be in this. This conceit put us into no less puzzle than before, since Sesostris had never been at Elephantine, and since I had been so long out of it, that I had forgot all the streets: Nor durst I on the other side go unto my Mother; for I knew, if she found that I came without the order of Amenophis, she would stay me: But at last remembering that in my Infancy there was a great League of Friendship between me and another boy which was the only Son of a very Rich man, I enquired of a Merchant which was in the Port concerning his Father; and I understood from this Merchant, that both the Father and Mother of my friend were dead; and that he was in possession of his Estate. Then I enquired where his house was, and we went immediately thither; and I desired to speak in private with him. So that after some patience in waiting, I was brought unto him, who at first knew me not, both by reason of my shepherd's habit, and because I was much altered in my stature and face. But after I had talked with him, and revived the memory of our ancient acquaintance, he embraced me with much joy, and knew me perfectly. Then I told him, after I had enjoined eternal and inviolable secrecy, how Amenophis since the death of Apriez had renounced the world, and took himself unto a desert, where he kept me, and that I being weary of that life, had escaped from him: after which, I presented Sesostris to him, under the notion of son unto Amenophis. In conclusion Sir, I carried the matter so handsomely, and found my friend so generous, that he entertained us in his house, and accommodated us with all things necessary whatsoever: In the mean time, we kn●w not where Timareta was, nor knew not where to seek her in so great a town, though we sought her in all places, as well as in places where she was likely to be, as where not. The sight of so fair a Town did spring some ambitious thoughts in the heart of Sesostris, and the sooner to cause Amenophis to bring Timareta into the Isle again, he resolved to go into the Wars, where he might satisfy his ambition at least, though not his love, and to get glory, though he could not get Timareta: He had no sooner form this design in his imagination, but he imparted it unto me, and no sooner communicated but consented unto; and the sooner, because a report went, there was some commotion against Amasis in one of the Provinces in Egypt: so that without any longer delay, I communicated our intentions unto my friend, who being of a very generous disposition, did furnish us with all things requisite, to put ourselves in an equipage of War: thus quitting the Shepherd's crook for a sword, we left Elephantine, not hearing any thing of Timareta; and indeed how was it to be hoped ever to hear of a simple Shepherdess in such a Town as that? However, since Sesostris desired his Shepherdess should know it was for love of her he left the Isle, I forgot to tell you Sir, that he had engraved some words upon a Sycomore which grew upon the Hill in the midst of the Isle, where Timareta used often to sit and enjoy the pleasant prospect, and where they had often held such amiable discourses in that place, as he was confident that if ever she returned, she would come unto that place, and find these words, 
Sesostris not being able to live where the fair Timareta is not, he is gone with a design to die assoon as he hath lost all hopes of finding her.   
But Sir, before I tell you any thing of our martial voyage, give me leave to relate in few words, how Amenophis was astonished, when about two hours after the departure of Pythagoras, he understood he was gone as far as Elephantine to conduct him; yet since he could not imagine Sesostris to be in a condition of going, he did not at first suspect his departure, but sending unto his chamber to ask whether he knew of my intentions, he was extremely amazed when he heard he was not there; he presently sent for all those that saw Pythagoras embark, who all said they saw none but three Shepherdesses, the stranger, and myself; since the number of women in that Isle is not great, he sent out Traseas; Nicetis, and a servant, to inquire what women went unto Elephantine: but after an exact search, they found only two wanting; so that Amenophis not doubting but Sesostris went out of the Isle in disguise, he was extremely troubled, but knew no remedy, for there was not one Boat to be had in all the Isle to send after them, all being gone out to fish: but towards night, to put him out of all doubt of our flight, the two women returned, and gave him the letter, saying, they were much amazed when they found her whom they thought to be a Shepherdess, to prove Sesostris: yet Amenophis did hardly believe them, and was as angry with them, as any so wise a man as he could be, with them which had failed rather out of simplicity than malice: However, without more delay, he sent Traseas, Nicetis, and a servant, with orders to stay two or three days in Elephantine, and walk up and down the streets, Temples and public places, to see if they could meet with them, not daring to go himself for fear of discovery; But do what they could, no tidings was to be heard of us, so that Amenophis was the saddest man alive: But since he saw that the violence of his passion had driven him away, he thought that perhaps the same passion might bring him back unto this Isle; yet he durst not call back Timareta so soon, lest Sesostris should have some design to take her away in her return, and so he might perhaps lose her for ever, not having her in his power which might invite his return; nor durst he quit the Isle, lest Sesostris should return when he should not be there, so that he was forced to stay by himself to lament his miseries; yet was he never out of hope, for his knowledge in Astrology showed him such happy presages for Sesostris, that maugre all malice of his fortune, he trusted more to the signs of the heavens, then to his sufferings upon earth; yet was he extremely sorry for the absence of Sesostris, for he understood that his stratagems to raise a party against the usurper, proved not effectual, and that his private friends in Thebes, and Heliopolis had so well transacted; that the people did not only begin to rise, but men also of great quality began to declare themseluse, especially in Thebes, where the spirit of revolt was ri●e amongst the people, because Amasis when he came first to the Crown, to oblige the people unto a declaration for him, did tell the inhabitants, that he would restore their Town unto its ancient lustre: for, Sir, you know that heretofore it was the prime town of all Egypt, before the ever renowned Menez caused Memphis to be built, which since that, hath been the usual abode of all their Kings, by reason of the situation which is most Majestic, most pleasant and lovely in the world; so that as Memphis increased in wealth, Thebes decayed; and the inhabitants of Thebes knowing, that riches, greatness, and magnificence of towns, ariseth from the presence of Kings, they petitioned Amasis, that according to his promise, he would inhabit amongst them: nor had Thebes been so ready to declare for him, but in hopes of this: yea seeing him so far from keeping promise with them, that he caused his Tomb to be built at Memphis, as in the place where he would both live and die: the friends of Amenophis found it an easy matter to make this a pretence for a revolt, and to engage Heliopolis in the interest of Thebes, because of the great traffic and commerce which was ever between those two Towns: This Amenophis saw, that if he had Sesostris in his power, he had a fair opportunity to make him known unto the people, and perhaps to cause an universal revolution in all Egypt; for it was easy to make this Prince known, having Ladices Letter in his hands; and also having Traseas and Nicetis with him, knowing that Sesostris was the same child he brought into the Isle, about four or five years of age; also he had one of the Prince's servants with him. In the mean time, since Amenophis could never effect his designs, unless he trusted and imparted them unto some: there was a man of good quality in Thebes, who knew that the son of Apriez was living, though he knew not where he was; for Amenophis would never impart the place of his retreat unto any, lest he should run some hazard; yet he could do no less then to send unto him, who said it was now a time to bring the son of Apriez, and to excuse the matter by saying, that this Prince was sick, and that assoon as he was in a condition to come unto Thebes, he would bring him. On the other side, Timareta, though well pleased with so pleasant a Town as Elephantine was, and to be out of the course habit of a Shepherdess, yet she did most sensibly lament the want of Sesostris; but she lamented in secret, not daring to complain unto any: and whilst Amenophis and Timareta were thus full of sorrows, Sesostris was fuller than they, and truly all the way we traveled towards some rendezvouz of War, he talked of nothing but Timareta, and he grew so dull and melancholy, that there was a little quarrel almost risen between us: Then Sir, be pleased to know, that when we understood there was a province which revolted against Amasis, the question was, whether we should take the part of Amasis the usurper, or the side of the people which revolted from him? I being something elder than Sesostris, and remembered all the imprecations and curses against Amasis when he came to the Crown, my inclination and judgement was to fight against him: But Sesostris was of the contrary opinion, and would fight in the Army of Amasis against the revolters: my arguments were, that Amasis was an usurper; that all respects were due unto the legitimate King; that they of Thebes were no rebels, but just enemies unto a Tyrant, and consequently I thought it most just to take their part: On the contrary Sesostris he argued, that though Amasis was an usurper, yet they of Thebes were unworthy of assistance: for, (said he) if they were faithful unto their Prince, why did they acknowledge Amasis? and since they did acknowledge him, why do they now forsake him? were there a Prince descended from the royal race of our Kings unto whom the Crown should descend, than should I certainly fight on their side; or if they had only a design to revenge the death of Apriez, I would be on their side also, but since I hear their aims are only at their private interests, and grandeur of their Town, and for that they trouble all the Kingdom, it is but just if they perish: Also, I have heard Amenophis say, that it is better to obey one Master then many, and that a good Tyrant in peace, is better for the people than a just war: Moreover, without any further reasons, I find my heart so inclinable to take the part of Amasis, that it is sufficient I tell you, that I can take no other. After this Sir, I submitted unto Sesostris, but it was with much ado; then we went unto the Army of Amasis, who then was under the command of Heracleon, who at present is your prisoner, and who was then the King's favourite, not only because he was the man who had the greatest hand in setting him upon the Throne, but because his person pleased him; and though this war was of that importance as might very well oblige Amasis to go into it himself; but the reason why he did not, was, because he was very sickly. At last Sir, we came to the camp, and seemed as men who would serve as volunteers: but Sir, as Sesostris had an excellent faculty in using a pikestaff under the notion of a Shepherd, he had a better in using a sword under the notion of a soldier, for never was seen in Egypt a man of so fine a garb in arms as he; he attracted the eyes of all, both officers and soldiers, but as his admirable behaviour did invite their looks in the camp, so it did much more when he fought: for Sesostris did things which certainly did surpass all that they could imagine of his valour: yet Heracleon was not a witness of it, for at the very first charge he was wounded, and so exceedingly, that he was carried out of the Camp, and could not return all that Battle, which was commanded by his Lieutenant General, whose name was Simandius; so the valour of Sesostris was not known unto Heracleon, but only by report: But Sir be pleased to know, that though we came into this camp only as simple volunteers, unknown unto any, yet the valour of Sesostris made us quickly known unto all the Army, for he did so highly and happily save the life of Simandius in a battle, that his fame flew as far as Heracleon and Amasis also: But Sir, the admiration was, that Sesostris who would be known for no more than a Shepherd, would have us change our names, though the names of Sesostris and Miris were so general and common in Egypt, that it was not likely we should be known: But the truth is, he was so afraid of being known to be a Shepherd, that he did as much as he could have done to hinder his being known to be the son of a King, if he had known his royal birth: so that taking upon him the name of Psammetites, as long as he was in the Army; it was under that name, and not Sesostris, that his reputation was divulged, both in the Army of Amasis, and in that of the enemy, and a hundred heroic acts, made him looked upon as a man extraordinary. Simandius, in recompense that Sesostris had saved his life, would have given him a good command, but since he was resolved to return shortly unto Elephantine, to see whether his adored Timareta was returned to the Isle, he would not accept of it: However Sir, though Sesostris did miracles under the notion of Psammetites, and that in saving the life of Simandius, he only prevented the defeat of his army, yet the enemy's side was very strong, and seemed to maintain their revolt very strongly: The Army wherein we were, scoffed at a report in Thebes, that a son of Apriez would ere long be in the head of their forces; Sesostris was the first who affirmed that the enemy gave that out only to make their revolt seem more just, and that if it were true there were a son of Apriez, he would ere now have appeared in those skirmishes already fought: But after all this Sir, the time of year for field being spent, and Simandius being forced to retreat with his forces into Winter quarters, because the Nile began to swell, he would needs carry him who was so famous under the name of Psammetites, unto the Court, that he might receive from the King a recompense due unto his courage; but Sesostris to excuse himself with more civility from going, told him, that he would come to the Court assoon as he was in a condition to appear in it, without shame unto him, & therefore desired permission first to go home: Then Simandius asked where his home was, and Sesostris (as it was agreed between us) answered, it was at a town called Canopea, which gives the name unto one of the seven mouths of Nilus: so Simandius being glad to know the place where he, who saved his life, lived, did press him no further, contenting himself with his promise of returning to court: yet he forced Sesostris to receive a very rich present of Jewels, and amongst the rest, a great medal of Gold, of which Amasis gave him many to bestow upon the like occasions, on the one fide of which was the King's picture, and on the other, that of Ladice, whose memory was still very dear unto him, not only because he ever loved her, but also because by her means he came to be King, though far contrary to her intentions. But Sir the admiration is, that as Timareta had a great resemblance of the Princess Ladice her Mother, so this medal had a great resemblance of Timareta, so that after we had taken leave of Simandius, and had looked upon this medal with more leisure, Sesostris rejoiced more at this adventure than is expressible; yet could not suspect any thing of the truth; for since this resemblance was not exactly perfect, and since he verily believed Timareta was really the daughter of a Shepherd, he conceived it to be only an act of chance, for which he ought to render thanks unto the Gods: The very sight of this medal made us to return to Elephantine, with more haste, and more joy than we came from it, for after this happy adventure, he made no doubt but to find Timareta in the Isle: At last Sir, we arrived at Elephantine, and went to him with whom we were before entertained, who was much astonished to see us return in a better equipage than we were in at our departure. In the mean time, since Sesostris returned only for Timaretas sake, we were no sooner come to Elephantine, but he endeavoured to know whether she were returned to the Isle, and remembering very well that it was the day on which Boats did commonly come to the town, he walked towards the Port, and so happily, that he saw coming a Boat full of Shepherds, and Shepherdesses, yet would he not show himself, but sent a servant which he had entertained during his voyage, to ask whether a maid called Timareta was at that present in the Isle? and being answered that she returned a few days since, Sesostris without one minute of more delay, resolved upon a return also: but since he conceived that all the Shepherds would wonder to see him in that habit, and perhaps mock at him, he put on again his old habit of a Shepherd, which he left off when he went unto the Army; for my part I persuaded him to appear before Timareta in the same habit wherein he was, but he would not, and I am confident that if he had been really a Shepherd, he could not have done what he did, but being the son of a great King, though ignorant of it, his soul was above that kind of vanity, and thought it enough to let her see his martial voyage had been happy, by giving her those Jewels which Simandius gave him, except that medal which had that fair resemblance: so Sesostris following his design, and I following him, we left our men and equipage of war at my friend's house, and waited for the people who were to return into the Isle, and who were extremely joyed when they saw Sesostris; he found also amongst them one of those women which helped him out of the Isle, after which Sesostris enquired for Timareta, Amenophis, and Edisea, but especially of Timareta, he understood that this fair maid was returned into the Isle with Edisea, but a thousand times fairer than ever he saw her; and that two days after she came, Amenophis departed with a servant which he had along with him. Though Sesostris loved Amenophis very well, maugre his rigour, yet at this time he was very glad of his absence, and since he could talk of nothing but Timareta, as long as that little navigation lasted, she was all his discourse both with me and the Shepherds, who all knew he was in love: When we drew near our desert, he thought he saw some upon the hill in the midst of the Isle, where he had engraved some words upon the Sicomors; but it being too far off to discern whether it was a Shepherd or a Shepherdess, he asked me whether I saw one at the root of that tree which grew just upon the very knab of the hill; he had no sooner said so, but that Shepherdess who lent him her mantle at departure, began to speak: I'll lay my life said she to him, that it is Timareta, for since she returned, she is almost always there. Sesostris hearing this, did not doubt but it was she, so that his imagination supplying the defects of his eyes, he thought he discerned her stature and her habit, and thinking that she was only there to think upon him, he was extremely joyed; and his desire to see Timareta was so great, that he leapt the first out of the boat, almost before it touched land. In the mean time Sir, to let you know how unsearchable are the secrets of the Gods, and how vain all humane providence is, give me leave to tell you both how and why Amenophis departed: Be pleased to know then Sir, that those who began the commotion at Thebes, and Heliopolis, seeing no Sesostris appear, began to murmur against Amenophis, who had so long held them in hopes of seeing him, so that writing unto him to testify their fears, that after they had assured the people, and published throughout all Egypt that there was a son of Apriez living, after all this they should be forced to say, they were deceived, and that there is no such thing: Amenophis was forced to go himself (not daring to trust it in a letter) and satisfy them of all the passage: In the mean time, he caused Edisea and Timareta to return into the Isle, to the end, that if Sesostris returned, she might stay him, appointing Traseas and Edisea to tell him, that he had altered his opinion since his departure, and at his return would give him all possible satisfaction: also, conjuring Edisea to order it so, that the fair Shepherdess might stay Sesostris if he returned: after which, Amenophis departed in a disguise and carried the Princess Servant with him: And these were the motives Sir, which attracted Amenophis out of the Isle, and Sesostris in, and Timareta also: But to return unto Sesostris, whom I left leaping hastily out of the Boat, the sooner to see his fair Shepherdess; give me leave to tell you Sir, that he found her upon the top of the hill, and bottom of the Sicomore where Sesostris had imprinted his mind, and she every day since her return was reading it: this beauty he found in a musing posture, her eyes down, and walking softly, when he was coming hastily to her, to testify his desires of seeing her, who being upon a sudden sweetly surprised with the sight of her dear Sesostris, and to see his face so full of joy, had good cause to think his heart was as full of love; both their joys were so high, that they were not able to express them by their words, yet at last they spoke, but it was both at once, but yet they understood each other, for upon such occasions, regular set civilities are not the most obliging, but there is a certain disorder of spirit, & confusion of words, which plea seth much better, than any studied compliments of acquaint language, which perhaps signify nothing, at most, nothing to the purpose: but after they had vented what their first raptures permitted them, Timareta saluted me, and Sesostris saluted Edisea, who followed Timareta some twenty paces from her: these two lovers were both so equally disordered with a pleasing surprise, that Timareta in speaking to me called me Sesostris, and Sesostris called Edisea Timareta: this little reciprocal error had different effects, for Sesostris was very glad to hear Timareta use his name in lieu of mine, nor was he sorry for calling Timareta, in lieu of Edisea, thinking she would thereby know, that his thoughts did run on her: but as for Timareta, she was vexed at herself for being so surprised, that she blushed for shame: This pretty error was not only the joy of Sesostris at the first meeting, but it was highly augmented to see Timareta a thousand times more fair and charming than she was at his departure: she was grown taller, her neck was in another, but better model, she was grown plump, her complexion was polished, her eyes more lustrous, her behaviour more graceful and free; all which, made her infinitely more amiable. Moreover, the beauty of her mind was as much bettered, as that of her body, and her being at Elephantine, had so taught her the air and garb of the world, that she seemed to be, as indeed she was, a great Princess, disguised in the habit of a Shepherdess: Sesostris for his part, was grown infinitely more amiable also, his behaviour was more high, and his spirit more bold and refined: Thus these two young persons, finding each other worthy of fresh admiration, it is no wonder if their affections were greater than before, yet for all this, there was some such alterations in the way of Timareta, as made Sesostris have many an angry hour; for as this young beauty did certainly love more than before, so she did express it less; so that at the first private conference which they had together, after the return of Sesostris, he complained of her cruel change in her behaviour, who being now more circumspect than when she was young, would not let all her heart be seen in her tongue: I beseech you fair Timareta said he unto her, from whence proceeds this alteration which I perceive in you? and why do you treat me more seriously and more coldly then before you used? You may (replied she and smiled) leave out one of your last words, which you used, since I have done nothing which can make you think I treat you more coldly; I confess I have left off a little of my childish simplicity, and merryments of my infancy. Ah Timareta, replied he, do not under the colour of that cruel expression deprive me of that sweetness which heretofore you blessed me withal; but let me at the least take some consolation in things that are past, though I cannot in the things present. To show you that I am not rigorous (said Timareta to him) I promise you never to forget how I owe my life unto you, but at the same time I conjure you to forget all the innocent passages of my infancy, not to regulate in measure the rest of my life by what is past; for truly Sesostris, I have spoke a hundred thousand things, which makes me blush to think of them, and which I shall never speak again: Why? (said Sesostris) do you think it just, you should treat me worse than you did, because you have more spirit and wit than you had? and because you are more fair, and consequently I more your captive, therefore you should be more rigorous to me? I conceive said she 〈…〉 d and smiled, that now there is more decorum to be observed; and though I should love you, yet I should not tell you so, but it is your part only to guess at it: It must needs be confessed said Sesostris, that this fashion is a little too Tyrannical and unjust, for am I not the very same I was when you lived in more freedom with me? No, said she unto him, you are now a much more refined man: But admit I be replied he, must you therefore use me worse? No, replied she, but I do it to get more of your esteem: Ah, Timareta, answered Sesostris, rigour is an ill expedient, whereby to get the esteem of a lover: I assure you said she, I think it is a better than indulgence: For all your rigour 〈◊〉 (said he, and showed her the medal which Simandius gave him) you cannot hinder me from having your picture: 'tis true, said he, it does not fully resemble you, but however it is not more unlike you, than yourself is, to what you were unto me in that age when you suffered me to look on your eyes without turning them away. Timareta taking this medal, and looking upon it, was extremely surprised, to find the figure of a woman on the one side of it, whose air did much resemble hers; so that having a longing desire to know how he came unto it, and how it came to resemble her, she began to be importunate with him to tell her: Then would he according to his intentions, have given her all that Simandius gave him, yet by no means would she receive them, but pressed him still to tell her, how he got so much riches, and ask him further, how after this he could return to be a Shepherd: Give me leave (said he unto her) to begin my answer, where you ended, and to tell you, that I am a Shepherd because you are a Shepherdess, and when you leave being so, I will then cast away my Crook; and for all the rest (said he, seeing me coming towards them) you may know them from the mouth of Miris. As I heard these last words, I asked Timareta, after I had saluted her, what it was I should tell her, and she telling me, I made a relation of our voyage; but since I was to acquaint Timareta with the valour of Sesostris, he would needs impose silence upon me; but seeing he could not, he rose up and went to Edisea who was coming towards us; so I made an exact relation of all his acts, how great a reputation he had gotten under the name of Psammetites, and which way he came by the medal; but whilst I related all these things, I perceived such joy in the eyes of Timareta, as plainly appeared Sesostris was not a little in her favour. In the mean time Sir, what assurances soever Edisea gave this amorous Shepherd, that Amenophis had changed his mind, and promised at parting, that at his return he would give him full satisfaction; yet he had a mistrust in all these fair words, and if Timareta had not been as wise as fair, Sesostris had certainly carried her away out of the Isle, before the return of Amenophis: but she was so angry at the very first motion of it, that he never durst think of it afterwards, for she continued three whole days, and would not speak unto him, though he courted her with all imaginable plausibility: yet after a thousand petitions for a pardon, and as many promises to submit totally unto her will, Sesostris made his peace, and resolved according to the orders of this fair Shepherdess, to rest quiet until the return of Amenophis; so that after this reconcilement, wherein I was a mediator, they lived together without the lest jar, unless only such as are essential redintegrations of love, as are every day, both in and out a hundred times; yet was their tranquillity much molested by the death of Edisea, who being gone, Timareta had no reasonable conversation but in the company of Sesostris. Traseas doubtless was a man of much spirit, and was much civilised by the long communication of Amenophis; Nicetis his wife was also a little more sociable, by the company of Edisea: but for all that, they were nothing suitable to the youth and air of Timareta; and therefore having no other agreeable company, she was the more joyed in that of Sesostris, yet ever with much reservedness, making it appear, that she would give herself no more liberty, than Edisea her governess would were she living: yet this reservedness had nothing in it but modesty, without any rigour or severity; so that after all tears were dried up for the death of Edisea, Sesostris was without any inquietudes, but to see Amenophis returned not; and because he thought the longer his absence was, the more was his happiness deferred: But Sir, his longing expectations of Amenophis were all in vain, for he was fallen into a desperate Adventure. For be pleased to know Sir, that as he was going to the places where all the Officers of that faction which he had raised, were covered, he was so unfortunate, as in going through the Town of Nea, which is in the Province of Thebes, and where there was a sedition raised, that Amenophis and his servant, chanced to be in the midst of this Tumult, against their wills: In the mean time, as ill luck was, one of the principal men of the Town was hurt, and was so near Amenophis and his servant, that they with many others were taken as authors of this sedition, the party of the hurt man prevailing against the other. Thus was Amenophis and his servant a long while prisoners; for being strangers, they had no support, Amenophis not daring to make use of any his friends in Thebes, since those who were masters of this Town were for Amasis: So than he was forced to trust only unto his innocency: But those who were real Criminals, and were taken with him, they had kindred and friends in the Town, they were released, and the innocent more closely kept in their Prison. Yet could they not proceed unto judgement against them, because they would first see of him who prosecuted against them, being in his bed; it was long before they could be certain whether he would mend or end, live or die; so that the punishment being to be more or less rigorous according to the event, Amenophis and his servant were kept Prisoners, not being able, or daring if they could, to apply themselves unto any, Amenophis was extreme grieved at one thing, for he found that he had lost Ladices letter to Amasis in the Tumult, by means of which he hoped hereafter to make Sesostris and Timareta known, and which he would needs carry with him, both because he would by it justify himself unto his friends, and because he would not trust it any where but where he was himself. But whilst he was in this pitiful Condition, the Nile did swell, & afterwards returned again within its ordinary banks, as always it used towards Winter. Heracleon drawing his Forces out of the winter Garrisons, did suppress those which revolted, and almost quite defeated them, so that they were forced all to retreat into Thebes. Yet Heracleon could not besiege them, but contented himself with being Master of the field, and have, by this action, obtained greater favour with the King. This happy success persuading Amasis, that his best course to keep the People in their obedience, was to show himself in all his Provinces, and to Perambulate all his Kingdom; he began to go from Town to Town, to win their spirits, and to imprint a new Respect. And that his voyage might seem only a Progress of Peace; the King would have all his Court with him: at last Sir, he came to Elephantine: and he was no sooner there, but the imperfection and weakness of his eyes did so augment, that he thought he should have quite lost his sight: but that which did most affright him, was a terrible apparition which he then saw: I am confident it was rather one of those mysterious dreams, which sometimes foretells men of future accident, than a real apparition: however it it was, Amasis said, that when he awaked one night, an hour before day, he saw, or at least thought he saw a gloomy light, by the help of which, he perceived the Ghost of Apriez, and distinctly saw the wounds he received; when he was most barbarously massacred: The body was all bloody and disfigured: but the great amazement● of all, was to see following the dead King, the Princess Ladice, in a great sad mourning Mantle, who looking upon him with a menacing kind of action, and angry eyes, began to speak these words, in such a lamentable, Penetrating and terrible a tone, that Amasis was almost out of his wits. Know (said she, and showed him this unfortunate King) that this unhappy Prince whom thou didst destroy, hath left a Son: and if thou dost not restore unto him that Crown which thou didst pull from the head of his Father: thou shalt never see any other more pleasing object then this thou now ●eest, but shall see it, or worse continually. Yes, too ambitious Amasis, (pursued the Ghost) than shalt neither see thy Subjects, nor the Sceptre which thou most injuriously hold'st: nor the infant which I left thee, nor the common light: but thou shalt eternally see me upbraiding thee with thy Crime, until thou interest into thy holy Tomb: After this a thousand flashes of Red, Blue, and Black Flame appeared, wherein the bodies of Apriez and Ladice vanished: These Flames were accompanied with so great a noise, as he thought the Chamber shaked: so that passing out of these affrighting flames into a dismal obscurity, and out of a horrid noise into a deep silence, Amasis was so troubled that he knew not what to think or resolve upon: his wonder was doubled, when he was told in the morning, that it reigned a whole hour together in the night: For Sir, since Rain was never seen in that part of Egypt, the Prodigy did the more affright him. But he had another cause of fear: For news was brought, that Apis, whose Birth had rejoiced all Egypt a little before, was dead with the flash of Lightning and a thunder; I will not explain what this Apis was amongst us, for I know Sir, you cannot be ignorant of it: By these you may know that Amasis had some causes of fear, and the more, because the Statue of Osiris which he erected before his Palace, fell down in the night; yet would this Prince conceal his astonishment, and sent to consult with the Oracle of Latona at the Town of Bulte, which is the most renowned of all in Egypt: But this Oracle did not give him any satisfaction, for it answered him in obscure terms. That if he would have his Posterity Reign after him, he must restore that Sceptre which he had usurped, unto him who had right unto it: or otherwise he should not only lose his sight, but his eyes and life. Amasis' then seeing himself so cruelly threatened, and finding that really his sight did weaken, began to strive against his ambition, and would have overcome it, yet he could not bring it about: so that endeavouring all manner of ways to secure himself, he began to transact as if he apprehended nothing, in his heart he was full of continual apprehensions: This being the state of things, they brought Ladices Letter unto Amasis, which Amenophis lost in the Tumult, and which was found by an Officer of Amasis in that Town, who sent it unto the King, not knowing who lost it: It coming unto the hands of the King, he no sooner saw it, but notwithstanding the weakness of his eyes, he perfectly knew the Character: you may easily imagine that he read it with wonder, and application; and the more because he was extremely joyed to understand that Ladice had left him a child: But Sir, one thing chanced which is worthy of observation: For Ladices letter was so tumbled in the tumult, that it could not be discerned whether it mentioned a Son or a Daughter, but it was more like to be a Son then a Daughter: He saw in the place where she spoke of a child which she left; It was this 
Know then that I have left you a— which you shall never see unless you render the Sceptre unto the young Sesostris.   
In the mean time, since he understood by this letter, that when Ladice writ it the young Sesostris was alive; yet he never thought of restoring the Sceptre unto him. But intended only to leave it unto the Child which Ladice left, whether it was Son or Daughter. He had also a conceit that perhaps Ladice was not dead: and he was so blinded with ambition, that he began already to dispose of this Child, though it was not in his power, nor knew where to look, it, no, nor was certain of its life: Then he told Heracleon, that since his late Father helped him unto the Crown, it were just he should transfer it into his house: and therefore he promised him, that if he could find the Child which the gods had given him, he would then pay those debts which he owed unto his house in general, and unto his valour in particular: passing his word, that if it proved a Daughter, he would marry her unto him: and if a Son, he should marry the Princess his Sister, whose name was Liserina: who knowing that her brother was at Elephantine, came thither to see him; this Princess being then not above three furlongs from that Town. In the mean while, this letter being found in a public place, none knew who lost it: So that Amasis was much perplexed; and the more, because it appeared by this letter, that the Son of Apriez lived when it was written; yet he was persuaded that now he was dead, because he appeared not at Thebes, and in the head of the revolted Army: However to be the better satisfied, he remembered that Amenophis departed from Sesse with the Queen, and knew that he was of the Town of Elephantine; also he imagined, that he could perhaps resolve him of what he so much desired to know, and therefore he would cause a strict search to be made in all that great Town and places about it, he would also ask all his kindred that he found: But my mother hearing of these intentions, she went presently out of Elephantine: So that she only being able to give them any intelligence of him, their search came to nothing. But at last the Governor of that Town, understanding that no search had been made in our Isle; but the King hearing of it, as if he were prompted by a powerful instinct, commanded a search to be made there, and an account of what was found to be given unto him. The Kings Command being the same hour executed, we were much astonished to see the officers of Elephantine come betime in the morning into our Isle, who went from Cabin to Cabin, ask who dwelled there; so that ours being the greatest in all the Isle, they were sure not to balk it. Thraseas answered for all his Family, whom they desired to see, so that Timareta, Sesostris and I appeared before the men, who no sooner saw us, but they began to examine very closely who we were. But Sir, before I precisely acquaint you with the answers of Thraseas: give me leave to tell you, that some days before Amenophis departed from the Isle, the Prince's servant who knew he was to depart, and who exceedingly loved Sesostris, desired Thraseas extreme earnestly, to have an especial care of him if ever he returned into the Isle, and not to let him go out again. Thraseas being a man of good wit, could not choose but be full of curiosity, and imagine that Sesostris and Timareta both were of some Noble births: for Amenophis had confessed that the Queen and Ladice were women of great quality, who fled from the persecution of the new King; also he had some glances of the abundance of Jewels belonging unto these two Princesses, which Amenophis caused his servant to hide, before he departed the Isle: Traseas tried all manner of ways a hundred times over, to know who Sesostris and Timareta were, but all in vain; but at last he thought he had found a way to oblige this servant unto a confession: he told him therefore, when the Servant desired him to have such a care of Sesostris if he returned, that he would have no care of him, unless he would tell him who he was: At first, the servant refused, as he had many a time before; but at last upon a thousand promises of inviolable fidelity, and the servant finding Traseas ever both faithful and affectionate: also thinking it would be advantageous, if he knew that Sesostris was the son of Apriez, and legitimate King of Egypt; and after he had sworn unto him by Osiris and Isis, that he should never betray him: Know Traseas (said he unto him) that thou art in a possibility ere long to be above thy quality; for this Princess who was buried here was the wife of Apriez, and the mother of Sesostris, and she who died in giving life unto Timareta, was the wife of Amasis: so Traseas thou mayest have in thy power, the son of the legitimate King, and the daughter of the usurper: Judge after this, whether thou be'st not the happiest of men, since which side soever fortune turn, thou wilt have in thy power that person who ought to wear the Crown of all Egypt. After the servant had told all he knew, Traseas was extremely joyed, and promised inviolable fidelity and secrecy. After this Sir, you may well imagine, that when Traseas saw these men in his Cabin, who asked so precisely who Sesostris was, who Timareta was, and who I was, he had good reason to be astonished; but to prevent all cross interrogatories, and less in danger to contradict himself, he said we were his children, and that Nicetis was our mother, never naming Amenophis at all: At first the answer of Traseas did surprise both Sesostris and me, yet imagining there was some secret reason which we were ignorant of, we did not contradict him. In the mean time, those who made such strict inquisition, looked upon Sesostris with admiration, and upon Timareta with as much, and put many questions unto Traseas, unto which he answered very directly; but so did not Nicetis, for though she heard her husband say, we were their childran, yet when they began to examine her, and ask, how their family did subsist, in lieu of a direct answer, she said, that having but one daughter, they might easily subsist: so that the men finding a contradiction between her and her husband, presently supposed some hidden matter in the wind, and the more, because Traseas endeavouring to mend what his wife had said, replied, that Nicetis did not call Sesostris and me her children, because he had us by another wife, but for all this we were her children: however, Nicetis not liking what her husband said, she began to grumble, that when Amenophis returned he would not think well that any should take his son from him. The name of Amenophis was no sooner pronounced, but one of the officers belonging to Amasis, being amongst them who made the search, made no doubt but they had found what the King desired to know, for he knew that the King had clapped up all the kindred of Amenophis, and he knew further, that he fled away with the Queen and Ladice: so that drawing his company aside, he left them in the Isle, and went immediately to acquaint the King with his discovery: Amasis no sooner heard all these circumstances, but he thought them probable conjectures to find in that Isle what he sought for, and would go himself to be better informed in a business of so great importance: and being then in the Princess Liserina's chamber, where Heracleon also was, he would have them go with him; for, said he unto them both, you have as muchinterest as I have, in the business I am about, since I have already told you, if I have a son, he shall marry the Princess, Liserina, and if a daughter, she shall marry Heracleon: so Sir, the officer of Amasis confirming his report, with many probable conjectures, Amasis made no question but to find satisfaction: He embarked then with the Princess Liserina, Heracleon, and five or six persons of quality, and no more, for upon this occasion he would have no greater attendants; so they came unto the Isle, and in landing, you may imagine, Sir, what prayers unto the Gods the ambitious Heracleon made, that Amasis might find a daughter, and you may also imagine how Liserina wished him to prove a son. In the mean time, Traseas observed, that this officer returned unto Elephantine, and he no sooner had a hint that Amasis would come into the Isle, but he imagined that he came to inquire, what was become of the Queen, of Sesostris, and Ladice; so that Traseas reasoning after this manner, and having no time to instruct Sesostris, because there were many observant eyes upon them, he walked only towards him, and in passing, told him, it concerned his whole fortune not to contradict him: assoon as he had said so, without any wonder or disorder in himself, he sat down before his cabin, Sesostris standing by, and leaning upon his Shepherd's hook. But Sir, as those who have any designs to please are no ways negligent in their clothes, wherein the handsomest persons, may lose something of their complacency, Timareta and Sesostris were so handsome that day, and so gallant in their habits (though only in the homely simplicity of a Shepherd and a Shepherdess) that none could look upon them without admiration. In the mean time, the King drawing near the Cabin, Traseas rose up, and went to look upon him, seeming as if he could not believe that the King could have any thing to say unto him: Sesostris, Timareta, and I followed him; on the other side, the King coming strait towards us, that officer who before had seen us, pointed to us with his hand as he spoke unto the King; a man of quality led the Princess Liserina. But Sir, Heracleon no sooner cast his eyes upon Timareta, but he made a million of secret prayers unto the Gods, that she might prove the daughter of Amasis: and Liserina no sooner saw Sesostris, but she most earnestly desired he might prove the King's son: as for Amasis, he passionately desired a successor, and not a daughter: After he had looked upon Sesostris and Timareta, he took Traseas aside, and without any witness but Heracleon, he charged him to tell the truth, after which he asked him where Amenophis was? and what was become of the Queen, the young Sesostris, and the Princess Ladice? For I am sure (said the King (though he knew not but by conjectures) that they were in this Isle. Traseas finding by the manner of the Kings speaking, that he was not so well informed as he said he was, resolved to prosecute his former design, which was, Sir, not to confess that Sesostris was the son of Apriez, lest then he should perish in the hands of his enemy; but to tell him on the contrary, that he was the son of Ladice and himself: For, argued he unto himself, so Sesostris do reign, what matters it whether it be as the son of Apriez, or as the son of Amasis? Traseas being thus resolved, did not deny, but that the Queen was in this Isle; but for the furtherance of his project, he seemed as if he were ignorant that she, who came with the Queen was his wife: he confessed that the Queen and Sesostris came into this Isle, with another Princess who died three days after her arrival, and her death gave life unto a son: adding, that four days after a contagious disease happening in the Isle, the Queen and the young Sesostris died also, and since that, Amenophis gave the name of Sesostris unto the son of this Princess who died in childbed of him. Where is the Child? (said the King) Sir, (replied Traseas) this is he I speak of, who thinks Amenophis to be his Father, and whom of late, I have said to be my son, because Amenophis was wondrous careful to conceal him, though I knew not his reason for it, but was so bold as to say he was mine. But where is Amenophis said the King? Sir, replied Traseas, I do not know, only I am sure he recommended Sesostris unto me. Oh Heracleon, said the King, questionless this Traitor who carried away the Queen and Ladice from Sais, had a design to arm my own son against me, by persuading the people that he was the son of Apriez: yes, yes, Heracleon, 'twas he that made the people of Thebes believe that he was alive, and doubtless his design was, to have my son to be taken for that Prince. But Traseas (said the King who knew his name) may I give credit unto your words? must he whom you show unto me wear the Crown after me? Yes Sir, replied Traseas, if the Princess Ladice were your wife: moreover Sir, do not think that I conceal the son of Apriez, command me to prison, and if any other Sesostris but this be found, than put me to death. But, (said Heracleon, who was nothing pleased that Amasis should have a son after such fair promises) the danger is not in your concealing Sesostris, but the point is, to know certainly that this is not Sesostris the son of Apriez, and that he who came from Sais died, and not the Child of the Princess Ladice. Traseas hearing Heracleon urge this, began to confirm his words with a thousand deep Oaths: But whilst Heracleon and Traseas were in contest about it, the King remembering the Apparition of Ladice, and all the rest of the prodigies, his heart began to tremble, the guilt of his crimes so gnawed upon his conscience, that he could have wished for a son of Apriez, unto whom he might have rendered the Sceptre, so that not insisting upon such niceties as Heracleon did, he did believe that Sesostris was either his own son, or the son of Apriez, so that which soever he was, he deserved to reign, he resolved to acknowledge him after he had well examined others in the Isle, who spoke nothing in contradiction of what Traseas said. In the mean while, all the younkers of the Isle were assembled to see the King, and not daring to approach too near, they got ten or twelve of them upon a thatched Sheep-fold, the better to look upon him, but the timber being rotten, both Sheep-fold and Shepherds tumbled down together, and it fell so near the Princess Liserina (who being much taken with the beauty of Timareta, had called her unto her) that she could easily see the wonderful accident which this little disorder caused: For Sir, be pleased to know it happened to be in the very same place where Amenophis before his departure had caused all the Queens and Ladices Jewels to be hid, so that two Boxes in which they were, being broke open with the fall, one might perceive a thousand Rich Diamonds glistering amongst the rubbish of this old sheepfold: The Princess Liserina no sooner espied them, but she cried out, not being less amazed at the sight, than those shephcards with their falls: The screek she made, caused the King to turn towards her, and she telling him what she spied, he came to her, and himself saw the cause of her wonder: so that commanding all the Jewels to be gathered up, and brought unto him, he presently knew the case of a Picture which Ladice was wont to wear, and which was very remarkable, and likewise many other Jewels which he had seen both the Queen and Ladice wear. After this, making no question but they had been in the Isle, he gave more credit unto the reports of Traseas, & questioned not but that Sesostris was his Son. But Heracleon, having yet a mind to hinder that belief, observed unto Amasis, that Sesostris was too big and tall for that age which his Son could be off, and therefore could not be his Son. Traseas answered unto this objection, that it was every day's experience to find some of fourteen or sixteen years of age as well grown as others of twenty, and the King adhered unto that argument. In conclusion Sir, Amasis believing in his very heart he was either his Son or the Son of Apriez; he would examine the matter no further, knowing that it would be a stronger support unto him to have Successor, than not. He since confessed, that if at this time it had appeared clearly in the eyes of the World, that Sesostris was the Son of Apriez, he would not have treated him as he did. But seeing it appeared he was not his Son, he could not make him pass so, and restore the Sceptre unto him, unless it did appear to be a Restitution, therefore he would not make the business so intricrate as perhaps he should if he had not had that thought. But he enquired as much as he could to know whether Sesostris was his or the Son of Apriez. Whilst he was thus busied, Simandius who came with the King, and had stayed behind speaking with some of his friends, and being now come up, he began to look upon Timareta, whose wonderful beauty attracted the eyes of all the World, but afterwards turning towards Sesostris, who yet saw not him, he presently knew him to be the valiant Psammetites unto whom he was debtor for his life; so that coming to him, whilst the King was in talk with Traseas, Heracleon, and Liserina: Is it possible, (said he unto him) that the valiant Psammetites, who knows how to use a sword so gloriously, had rather take a sheephook in an Island, then come to the Court, where preparation of great recompense was made for his virtues? Sesostris knowing Simandius, was exceedingly ashamed to be seen in so mean a habit, and he blushed; but endeavouring to recollect himself, Sir, said he unto him and smiled, me thinks it would be as much for your honour as mine, if you seemed at this time not to know me. No, no, said Simandius, I cannot endure any false Glory, and therefore though you be but a simple shepherd, yet you merit to be a King, and I must publish to the world, that I am a debtor unto you for my life, and the King for a victory. Amasis' then turning himself with intention to call Sesostris, and acknowledge him for his Son, Simandius taking Sesostris by the arm, presented him unto Amasis, Behold Sir, (said he unto him) look upon the person of this lovely Shepherd: this is the valiant Psammetites which I told you of, who only won the battle. The King was surprised at the words of Simandius, that he told him he was grossly mistaken, for you call this Shepherd Psammetites, said he, and every one assures me his name is Sesostris: I cannot tell Sir, replied Simandius, how they call my preserver in this Isle, but I am sure he called himself Psammetites in the Army. Sesostris perceiving that the changing his name, did extremely puzzle the King, Simandius and Traseas, who kn●w not any thing of his martial voyage, began to speak, and satisfy their wonders; since Simandius will needs have it so (said he with an excellent grace,) and that I must have the honour to be known unto your Majesty, I must needs confess, that in changing my profession, I changed my name also: And that whilst I was a Soldier, I assumed the name of Psammetites: But why did you return to this Isle and take a Shepherd's hook, (said the King even ravished with joy, that he whom he should acknowledge for Son, was worthy to be so,) rather then to come unto the Court? Sesostris then being put to a Nonplus, would not say that it was for the love of Timareta, but to colour his return, he said, that since he went out of the Isle without his Father's consent, he repented, and would return to ask pardon. However it be Sir, said Simandius to the King, this Shepherd is the most valiant man in your Majesty's Kingdom: and I am confident that the Great Sesostris, and the renowned Psammetites, both which names he bears, were neitherof them more valiant than he? At least not more great than he is like to be (Replied Amaris) for I do declare unto you all and all the World, that this Sesostris whom you see here, is my Son. In saying so, Amasis would have embraced him: But Sesostris throwing himself at his feet, told him with much humility and wonder, that he was unworthy of this honour: Yet rise he must, for the King did so command him, appointing all those about him to regard him as successor. It is imaginable Sir, that this declaration was nothing pleasing unto Heracleon: but on the contrary, that it was all joy unto the Princess of Liserina. On the other side, the fair Timaretta, seeing her dear Sesostris, ready to change his Sheephook for a Sceptre, was infinitely ravished. But this her joy had no sooner filled her eye, than her heart began to sigh in secret, when she considered that now she was like to lose Sesostris, and perhaps, for ever; Sesostris whose great Soul was most sensible of glory, could not choose but be glad to see he was now no Shepherd: But when in the height of all his joys, he looked upon his fair Timareta, and considered that now he must leave her, his sorrows did so mix and moderate his joys, that the King could not enough admire the greatness of his Soul, which was so little moved at such surprising and advantageous news. In the mean time, Heracleon (whose fate was to have a Soul which was tyrannised over by the most violent passions) in the midst of all his sorrows to see the Princess Liserina more happy than himself, could not choose but look upon the fair Timareta with much admiration. He checked himself a hundred times for looking upon her, yet looked upon her a hundred times whether he would or no: In the mean time the King finding more cause to think Sesostris his Son, since he had taken his part against the Rebels of Thebes, did not pause upon what he had to do, or what he had done: but after he had given the Princess Liserina all those Jewels which were found in that Isle, which he said belonged unto him, either as successor unto Apriez, or as husband unto Ladice; and after he had told the Shepherds he would give them as much as they were worth, and told Traseas he would make him a happy man, he turned to Sesostris, and asked him whether he would go with him unto Elephantine? Sesostris hearing the King ask that question, beseeched him not to shame him so much as to carry him thither in that habit, but that he would be pleased to let him stay in the Isle until such time as he was in a better equipage: also Sir, said he unto him, it is but fit you give me one day or two to prepare myself for Grandeur, lest the Luster of it upon a sudden should dazzle my eyes: No, Noah my Son, replied Amasis, there is no fear, but he who can surpass the bravest men of all Egypt in valour, is sufficiently prepared for the quality unto which he is born. For all this Sesostris would not consent, but used such handsome arguments as moved the King unto so much complacency, as to satisfy his desire, thinking indeed, that the people who are always most taken with outward appearances, would not be so well pleased to see him in a Shepherd's habit. So it was resolved to leave him all the day following in the Isle, for an equipage proportionable to his quality could not be prepared in less time. Yet the King would not leave him without some of his Servants; therefore he commanded the Captain of his Guard to stay in the Isle with twelve of his companions. Amasis, by reason of the horrid apparition, and other things which took up his thoughts, never minded what a resemblance there was between Timareta and Ladice. As for Heracleon and Liserina, they had never seen Ladice. However, Amasis' retired, after he had bestowed a compliment upon the Princess Liserina which Sesostris understood not, but she well enough: So that she looking upon this lovely Shepherd as a great Prince, as a great Prince who hereafter should be King, and who should make her a Queen, she was as complacential, as civil, and as loving to him as possibly she could be. Since she was very fair, she did not doubt but the heart of Sesostris would become her Conquest; nor did she imagine he was in love with Timareta, or ever would be, for she being of an ambitious disposition, she measured the mind of Sesostris by her own: And made no question, but if he had any passion towards her, he would leave it with his sheephook: Thus Liserina left him, with as much joy in her heart as in the Kings, who was beyond all expressions ravished that he had a successor. But quite contrary with Heracleon, who after his hopes in seeing Timareta, thought to enjoy the greatest beauty in the World, and the Prime Crown of all the Universe; yet now saw all the satisfaction of his ambition choked. But after the King was gone out of the Isle, Sesostris must needs receive all the compliments which the Shepherds would present him withal: For since naturally he had a soul full of all sweetness and civility, he would not so soon take upon him that state, which his quality conferred upon him, so that it was impossible for him to speak in private that day with his dear Timareta; and the more difficult, because the Captain of the Guard desiring to be the first in favour with the new Prince, did not leave him at all. I also had much a do to testify my joys at his happiness: Yet as well as I could I confessed my great desires of telling him I knew Amenophis was not a Shepherd, and begged his pardon for not telling him, excusing myself with the menaces of Amenophis if I did: Also Sir, always thinking that Sesostris was his Son, I could imagine no end he had in it, but to conceal himself. But to return Sir where I left, be pleased to know Sir, that Sesostris, and Timareta, did not speak unto each other but in the language of their eyes, and that neither so much as usual: for the respects which Timareta began to have of him, infused such a constraint into her looks, as eclipsed all the sweetness of them; and which made Sesostris, who was accustomed to know the most secret thoughts of her heart by them, not to understand their Language: But the next morning being come; and knowing that the day following, they would carry him unto Elephantine, he resolved to talk with Timareta: in order to which, love moved him unto the first Command upon those about him, though he was resolved not to take upon him as a Prince, until he had left off the habit of a Shepherd: But seeing that if he did not, he could not talk with Timareta, and knowing that she was gone to the top of the hill without any company, but one Shepherdess, he followed her, and commanded the captain of the guard not to follow him: This Prince then being rid of all interrupters of his talk with Timareta, went up the Hill, and when he came to the top, he found his fair Timareta sitting at the root of a tree, wiping her eyes as if she had been crying: Sesostris seeing his Shepherdess in this sad condition, sighed, and with such real sorrow, as I am confident, if fate had been in his own choice, he would have preferred a Sheephook hook before a Sceptre, and the gathering of sheep before people: After than he had a while contemplated upon the cruelty of his good fortune, he advanced towards Timareta, with intentions to throw himself at her feet, and with the same respects he used: but the fair Timareta, turning her head at the noise of his walking, and spying Sesostris, she more and more wiped off her tears, after which, striving to bring joy in her eyes, she rose up, and saluting Sesostris with a more reverend civility then ordinary: What do you think of me Sir, (said she unto him) for not finding some opportunity to express my joys at your good fortune, and grandeur unto which you are raised? But Sir, since my destiny is to live with Shepherds, not Princes, I durst not be so bold as to tell you my thoughts. Ah cruel Timareta (said he to her) why why speak you thus unto me? can you think the alteration of my quality or fortunes, can alter my heart? No, no, Timareta, deceive not yourself, and wrong not me, I am the very same unto you now, that I was yesterday, and you shall find me the very same upon a Throne, that I am and have been in this Isle: call me no Sirs, I conjure you, for I declare that you, and only you shall reign Eternally in my soul: moreover my dear and lovely Timareta, do not force yourself to rejoice at the good fortune which is fallen upon me, but on the contrary know, that you cannot more injuriously affront my affection, then to rejoice at any thing that may set me farthest from you: do not therefore interest yourself in the Fortune more than I myself do; but if you will oblige me, confess that I had some share in those tears, which I saw drop from those fair eyes, when I came first unto you. Since you have been a witness of my weakness (replied Timareta and blushed) I will confess you were the cause of my sorrows, but I must confess withal, that I did not grieve at your good fortune, though 'tis most true that the loss of you can only grieve me, and the more, because I see it is most just I love you; for really it were a miracle, if you should think upon an unfortunate Shepherdess, amidst all the grandures of a glorious Court; and indeed you are obliged in point of honour, to hide the memory you have had of me, and never to give me any more testimonies of your affection: You see then Sir, that it is the loss of my own good fortune which I lament, and not at your happiness; for I do protest unto you Sir, that as oft as I look upon you, and consider, that now your quality is most suitable to your virtue, I am more joyed at your good fortune, than I am able to express; and when I think how in leaving your sheephook, you get a Crown in exchange, I am extremely satisfied: For all this, I cannot choose but remember, how I have lost Sesostris, and shall stay in this Isle without a deliverer; yet I beseech you Sir, remember, that my sorrows neither are, nor never shall be injurious to you. All the while Timareta was talking thus, Sesostris gazed upon her, with such abundance both of love and sorrow, that he thought he should either have lost his life, or his wits; and after a most attentive and sighing audience, he began to grieve at his good fortune in good earnest: Alas Timareta (said he with a face full of sorrow) am I any thing more than I was? and will they pull me from you to morrow? Yes, said she, and you ought to pull me out of your heart also, and perhaps will. Ah Timareta, cried he, do not add unto my sorrows, for they are so great, that they need no augmentation. No, no, Sir, (said she unto him) my language is more reasonable than yours, and to show you, that my affection and reason is not blind, or that I prefer my own satisfaction before your glory, I do declare, that there is no reason in the world but you should forget Timareta, and that it is not fitting a great Prince should love a simple shepherdess. Ah Timareta, said Sesostris, this simple shepherdess you speak of, is in my soul above all the Queens upon earth: However, to morrow about this time you will be in a great and stately Court, and I shall be in a poor cabin, rejoicing at your happiness, and grieving at my own misfortune: thus living in a continual miscellany of tears for joy, and tears for sorrow, the unhappy Timareta must drone away her days in a desert, till the day without any hopes of ever seeing you again. Oh Heavens (said Sesostris, transported with love and sorrow) I beseech you let me see you every day: yes Timareta (said he and kneeled to her) I am ready to forsake this Crown which hangs over my head, if you will for the love of me quit this Isle: come, let us go my dearest Timareta, and seek out some other desert, where without any ambition, or Crowns, I may only reign in your soul, as you reign in mine; let us try if we can escape this night following, perhaps I shall find a way to suborn my my guard: for I profess to do nothing but what shall please you, and will I marry you at the first place we come at, if you please; I promise you also never to remember I am the son of Amasis, nor pretend to any greater glory than your love. Your promises, replied Timareta, are infinitely obliging; but for all that Sir, your honour will not permit me to accept of your propositions; you must give me leave only to hear them, and you, but never to wrong you: Alas, added she, since my desires aim only, that your glory may flourish over the the whole earth, that you may be the admiration of the people over whom you are to reign, and that you may be happy both in peace and war; I cannot desire so much happiness to myself, upon any condition of being an hindrance to your felicity, I know Sir, it is unjust to desire otherwise, but I cannot do otherwise. I know moreover, that ambition is a passion so much stronger than love, that there is no likelihood, but the first step up unto that Throne which you shall one day mount, will make me lose the sight of you. For heaven's sake (said Sesostris) tell me of no such contrarieties, but make sure of my affection by the ways which I propound. I cannot (replied she) for I would not have it cost you a Crown; nor can I ever hope, that the Prince Sesostris, can be as faithful as the Shepherd Sesostris; or though he should, I can never be happy by it, since it cannot be, but by his being unhappy. However it be replied Sesostris, I am most certain, that I shall never love any but Timareta: I cannot assure her (aded he and sighed) to put the Crown of Egypt upon her head, for perhaps it will never be in my power: I will swear unto her three most certain truths, first, that I can never be happy without her; secondly, if I can I will Crown her a Queen; and lastly, she shall for ever reign in my heart. I would I could believe you, replied Timareta, but I must confess, I cannot; for what testimonies of affection soever you give me, I can find no security in them, since the Prince Sesostris is not obliged to keep any promises made by the Shepherd Sesostris. But my dear Timareta (said he) now I am no shepherd, though in the habit of one, I swear unto you by all that's sacred, that I will adore you eternally, and never any but you; so it is not the shepherd Sesostris who hath engaged his word unto you, but it is the son of Amasis, who as near as he is to pass from a cottage to a court, and from extreme baseness, unto the height of grandeur, doth protest unto you, that he had rather die at your feet, then live upon a Throne without you. I beseech you Sir, said Timareta, do not so much augment my sorrows, by expressing yourself so infinitely obliging, which will but make me more sadly lament my loss. But my dearest Timareta, said he, you shall never lose my heart: I will wish I may not Sir, replied she, but I can never hope for it: Ah me, ah, said he, what shall I do, that I may persuade you of that real thirst in my intentions: Truly Sir, said Timareta and sighed, I should be much puzzled to tell you what, for I am extremely glad you must be a King, I am very angry you are not still a shepherd, and I have thoughts so contrary unto each other, that I am ashamed of my own weakness, and the more, because I am not able to hide it from you. Do not call that weakness, my dearest Timareta, said he unto her, which is so sweet a testimony of your constant affection; but since I do you justice in being just unto by self, I conjure you to believe, that neither time, absence, ambition, nor any thing else in the earth, can make my mind alter from what I now profess; and believe me, there is nothing which I would not do to serve you, nor is there any thing I ever will willingly do which shall offend you, or interrupt your affection. After this Sir, Sesostris was silent, sorrow would not permit him to speak one word more: Timareta for her part had not power to answer one word: 'tis true, they looked upon one another, and saw each others heart through their eyes, so that they had sufficient cause of satisfaction; yet part they must for night did call them; and since they thought the next morning would not afford them the liberty of talking together, without too many witnesses, after all serious looks with a sad silence they bade each other adieu, and Sesostris being forced to part, he went down the Hill on the one side, Timareta went down the other side to the shepherdess, who stayed for her some twenty paces from thence: the next morning, those who were appointed to provide rich clothes, brought them, and Heracleon with abundance of the Court came to wait upon Sesostris, whose garb in those rich habits appeared so high, that Timareta was the more sad: gladly would she, if she could have stayed in her cabin, yet she could not; needs must she look at Sesostris as long as she could, but that she might be less observed, she got amongst other shepherdess about the Port, to see him embark. In the mean time, Heracleon coming into the Isle, met Timareta as she was going to the Port, and as sad as she was, he saw her so very fair, that he was more charmed with her beauty this second time, than the first, he had abundance of sadness in his countenance, and still looked upon her as long as he could, and at parting, was as sorry for her, as Timareta was to part with Sesostris: I must tell you Sir, that Sesostris and I agreed, that I should stay in the Isle to see whether Amenophis would return, to know from him what I should do, this Prince assuring me, that as soon as he was settled in the Court, he would then make his affection to me appear. That which most perplexed me, was, that I could not comprehend why Amenophis should have such a care of Amasis his son: but not being able to reach the reason, I rested my mind in quiet; yet Sesostris conjured me with all the most obliging language possible to speak of him every day unto his shepherdess: and indeed so I did, for as soon as he was embarked, I followed Timareta to her Chamber: but alas Sir, how sad was our discourse? for she imagining, that she should never see, or at least speak to Sesostris again as long as she lived, did so extremely grieve as truly I never saw the like. In the mean time, Sesostris arriving at the Port of Elephantine, found there one of the finest horses in the World on which he mounted: there being also Horses enough for all that followed him: All the people of that great Town were in the streets to see him pass: A million of high Applauds made the Air Echo: all the Ladies in the windows stood to see him pass, and the Princess Liserina amongst the rest, who pretended to have no small interest in the Glory of this Prince: you may well imagine Sir, how Amasis entertained him, whom he acknowledged for his Son, he expressed all possible signs of tenderness, and the more, because Sesostris filled all the Court with admiration: for all imaginations being filled with this conceit, that since he was found amongst a company of silly shepherds, his education would appear but mean: yet when they saw and heard him speak, they could do nothing else but admire: The common people talked of nothing else but his handsome Garb▪ The Ladies of his spirit and civility; and Simandius of his Courage: so that within the compass of eight days, he had got as much esteem, as if he had been in the Court all his life: Amasis' overjoyed with having a successor, forgot not his promises to the shepherds of the Isle, for he sent them much riches, quitted them of tribute, and gave them high privileges and immunities. But as for Traseas in particular, and his family, he thought not this enough: Therefore for a testimony of his acknowledgement, he would have him dwell in a Castle which was some fifty furlongs from Elephantine, situated between a great Lake, and a great Wood: And since Traseas, had no disposition to alter his profession; he made him the richest shepherd in all Egypt: Also he would have Timareta leave the Isle, and me also. But in leaving it, we left orders with the shepherds there to acquaint Amenophis if he returned where we were: In the mean while, Sesostris to testify unto Timareta that he forgot her not; and that the beauties of the Court did not dazzle his eyes, he sent a servant secretly the third day, with a letter to Timareta which contained these words  
SESOSTRIS unto TIMARETA.  
I Have now seen all that can be called fair in the Court, but I find not one comparable to yourself: Fear not then that I shall ever after my mind: but be assured that I am the very same in Elephantine, that I was in our desert, and so shall continue until the death of  
SESOSTRIS.  
You may imagine Sir, how joyfully Timareta received this testimony of fidelity from Sesastris: But perhaps you cannot comprehend that excessive sorrow which followed her Raptures of joy. For, said she unto me, what will it avail me to have Sesostris continue faithful, since, considering the unsuitableness of our qualities, he cannot continue his affection, unless he do that which in the common opinion of the world, is unworthy of himself? Is not this the very height of infortunacy, that the love Sesostris bears unto me should be a shame unto him? Constancy which in itself is a virtue, would be now a weakness in Sesostris if he should continue loving me: yet I must needs confess, I wish he would not change, since we are never like to see each other: And since so, we run no hazards neither in my reputation, nor he in his Glory; But alas, it shall never be said Sesostris has the heart of a shepherd in the habit of a Prince; therefore my dear Miris (said this sad shepherdess) It is most fit that Sesostris should forget me, and I him: But alas, to me it is impossible, and therefore she dissembled her thoughts in answering the Prince in these words.  
TIMARETA unto the Prince SESOSTRIS.  
SIR,  
I Cannot better acknowledge the honour which you are pleased to do me, then by conjuring you to forget me: and for ever to deprive me of the only thing in the World which can delight me: The sacrifice which I offer is great: But how infinite is the debt owing unto the Prince Sesostris from the shepherdess)  
TIMARETA.  
This letter did not so well please the Prince, as his letter did Timareta, nor was it long before he answered it, & before he moved her to write more sincerely and more obligingly. Yet Timareta, did always write with so much reservedness, that though Sesostris complained, yet he esteemed her the more. In the mean while, some days being spent in public Feasts, Amasis' sent for Sesosiris, and told him that since he intended the Princess of Liserina for his wife, he would acquaint him with it, to the end he might apply himself to win her heart as he had already her esteem. Sesostris hearkened unto this motion with much respect, but more sorrow, insomuch as he had much ado to hide it: For his violent love of Timareta told him, he must never marry any other. Yet did he not contradict the motion which Amasis made: but told him, that it were fit to give the Princess Liserina so much time as to forget she had seen him a shepherd: and he spoke so handsomely, and with so much judgement, that Amasis' thought that Sesostris only desired to have some assurance of the Princess Liserinas' affection before he married her, though it be not the custom of Kings and Princes to marry with that consideration. But the King thinking this smelled too much of a shepherd, told him, that Princes did not marry as other men, but married more for their people then themselves, and therefore they had not always the freedom of their choice: In short, Amasis spoke with so much sovereignty, that Sesostris would not gainsay his will: but since the King thought he had consented, he told him that he would give him some day's respite, before he made a publication of it: When Sesostris parted from the King, he retired to his Chamber full of extreme sorrow: Till now he looked upon Liserina with much indifferency: but since this, he looked upon her with unalterable aversion: and as oft as he considered that Amasis would marry him unto her, he was ready to run out of his wits: for love does often drive one to hope for not only things difficult, but even things impossible. Sesostris, sometimes hoped that happily Amasis would not force him to marry her, but that when it should please the gods to afford him a fit opportunity of retiring himself from the World, he would then marry his fair shepherdess, as well as many Kings of Egypt had married with Grecian slaves. In conclusion Sir, Sesostris resolved to employ all his possible endeavours, to defer the marriage, leaving the rest to the Conduct of the gods. In the mean time Heracleon was as full of restless thoughts as he, though in a different way, for certainly ambition was the torture of his mind. But since he could not alter the order of things as he pleased, how envious soever he was to see Sesostris so near the Crown; he complied with him as with a Prince, whose friendship he would gain, though himself could not Reign: and endeavoured to divert him with a possible complacency: yet Sesostris could not affect the conversation of Heracleon: for besides his imperious disposition, he considered him as the brother of Liserina, who he thought did eagerly put on his marriage with this Princess; insomuch as he could not possibly affect him. In the mean time, since Civility would not permit him to fall out with him, they were continually together. And Heracleon conceiving he could not possibly devise any diversion more suitable to his age then hunting: He invited him very often to that sport, wherein Sesostris seemed to take great delight; more affecting to be in the fields and woods, where he might sometimes entertain his own thoughts, then to be in Elephantine, where he was very often constrained to entertain Liserina. But, Sir, be pleased to know, that Heracleon and he being one day hunting together, the beast which they pursued, did lead them near the Castle where Traseas dwelled, so that riding along the Lake they saw the fair Timareta walking by the water side, and in such a profound study, that the merry cry of the dogs, and the shrill music of the Horns could hardly make her look up, and see who passed by her. But at last the noise being so loud and near, she turned aside with a languishing look, as if she had been married unto a crabbed Husband, who interrupted her study: And she no sooner lifted up her eyes, but Sesostris and Heracleon knew her, and stopped; letting the Chase run on. Timareta no sooner saw them stop, but she knew them also; and blushing, she seemed more fair than ever, and so charmed the eyes of Heracleon, that in talking to Sesostris he could not choose but extol her. Sesostris was grieved to the very soul, that he durst not throw himself at the feet of his fair Shepherdess, whom he so much respected all the while he was a Shepherd. But at last, his love surmounting all other considerations: Though I shall appear a Shepherd in the habit of a Prince (said he, and laughed) as Achilles did a boy in the habit of a woman when he could not choose but wear a sword, I must stay one minute, and speak unto this fair Shepherdess; were it for nothing but to ask how he doth with whom I lived. For my part, said Heracleon, I am much joyed at the motion, only out of a desire to please myself in looking upon her. After this these two Princes alighted from their horses, and went to Timareta, who continuing on her walk, went towards Nicetis, who was not far off, but she was prevented by these two Princes, who suiting their civilities according to her beauty, not her quality, did accost her as if she had been of their own. Their discourse with her was long, though nothing of privacy, or any thing of concernment; yet she spoke with so much spirit and grace, as when they parted Heracleon was no less in love then Sesostris: So that coming out of Elephantine with two, but love & ambition, he returned with three, since certainly he grew jealous as soon as in love; for though Sesostris in speaking to Timareta did keep a careful distance, and though Timareta on her side did examine every word, and did regulate their very looks, yet maugre all their precaution, Heracleon saw in their eyes some sparks of that fire which burned in their hearts, so that both his Love and his Jealousy begun both at once: But for his better satisfaction, in their way to Elephantine he asked the Prince Sesostris, whether it was possible he could so long live with Timareta, and not be in love? Sesostris, who for several reasons would not have it thought he was in love with this Shepherdess, told him handsomely, that it was with beauty as with the Sun, continual looking upon it, makes it never admired; and he being brought up with Timareta from the cradle, he ever thought her fair, but never found matter of adoration in her. But since Sesostris could not say this without his face betrayed his tongue, as his tongue belied his heart, Heracleon was confirmed in his opinion; he being a man violent in all things, and possessed with the three most violent passions that the heart of man is capable of, he presently began to endeavour ways for the satisfaction of them all: But since Love was the passion most predominate, he did oftentimes use to come and look for Timareta, not only by that water side, but in the house where they dwelled, though she entreated him with as much wisdom as modesty not to put himself unto the trouble; and in every visit he grew so deep in love, that it almost stified his ambition, and the more, because he found in her as much virtue as beauty, and an invincible resistance. As for Sesostris, since more eyes were upon him then Heracleon, he could not so easily see her, and it was only once that he found an opportunity to steal so much time as to talk with her, and then he was so unhappy as it was known unto Heracleon, who was almost choked with despair. In the mean time Amasis, thinking he had given long enough time for consideration unto Sesostris, began to publish unto all the world, that he would marry him with the Princess Liserina. The first Ceremonies were performed: So that since all Marriages of persons of this quality are quickly divulged, it was not only known at Elephantine, but the news was carried as far as Timareta: But when the wise and prudent Timareta did plainly foresee, that as soon as Sesostris ceased from being a shepherd, the King would infallibly oblige him to marry, she grieved exceedingly, yet endeavoured all she could to hide her sorrows, but could not; for I have heard her express herself concerning Sesostris, so generously, so wisely, and yet so passionately, and obligingly, that I discovered more grandeur of spirit and soul in her then ever before. In the mean while Sesostris was not less sad than she: Liserina only, who courted the Crown more than the affection of Sesostris, she had all the joy possible; yet she thought it somewhat strange that the Prince so full of spirit, as he was, should look upon her only with eyes of civility: But the predominate passion of her heart being satisfied, she cheered up herself, especially seeing that in all appearance, nothing could hinder her marriage: the reports whereof, were so generally divulged, that none made any question of it: It seemed as if the ceremonies were to be performed at Elephantine, at which the King was well pleased; and she hoped her happiness was now so nigh that nothing could prevent it: But what she called happiness Sesostris called misery: and indeed his soul was so wholly devoted unto Timareta, that the Luster of her fair eyes dimmed all the other beauties of the Court: since he saw the noise of his marriage was so loud as it might reach her ear; he could not rest until he found an opportunity to steal away and visit her; and to that end, he went unto his Chamber one evening very timely, and took horse immediately at the Palace Garden door, and went unto Tamareta: he knew Traseas went not to bed so soon as others, because his flocks of sheep were late in the field: But we were much astonished to see this Prince arrive so late with one servant which used to bring his letters unto Timareta: who then was in the walk towards the Lake, where the Trees not being very thick, the light of the Moon, was light enough. A young shepherdess who served Nicetis, was in the same walk where the Prince came to seek Timareta, after he had given me order to keep Traseas from interrupting them: Sesostris was full of most tender expressions to her: he offered her a hundred times the very same he did in the Isle, where their love had original. He proffered to renounce all Grandeur, Court and Crown, so she would but follow his fortune: And this Generous shepherdess did a hundred times conjure him, to do nothing unworthy of that Grandeur unto which he was raised, and to propose nothing unto her unworthy of his virtue: But say what she could, he was still in the same tune, and said he would never marry Liserina, conjuring her not to let any reports or appearances delude her, but constantly to believe, that he would never be any's but hers. Timareta contradicted this last expression of Sesostris, but it was very faintly, for she had not so much power over herself as to advise him unto a marriage with Liserina: but she told him resolutely, shee● would not have him quit the Court, nor carry her away: but when he talked of his marriage with Liserina, her tongue could not betrayher heart, all her expressions were blasted: Little and weak persuasion was in her Eloquence. Moreover, Timareta being very prudent, she thought not fit to acquaint Sesostris with all the visits of Heracleon. For since she knew him to be in favour with Amasis, she thought it not wisdom to sow any seeds of division between them. But on the other side, she thought it not discretion to say nothing to him: therefore she told him, that sometimes as his hunting chase drew him that way he would call: But since Sesostris had observed that Heracleons' heart was wounded with the beauty of Timareta, though she spoke nothing of it, yet he believed him to be deeply in love: But yet he feared not to drive him far enough from the heart of this lovely shepherdess, so that he parted very well satisfied from her, and likewise she from him, considering the state present of their fortunes. In the mean while, Heracleons' heart being torn in pieces by three unruly passions, he could not choose but open himself unto a friend of his named Tanisis, whose spirit was not only subtle, but capable of all villainies and cheats in the World, respecting neither Divine nor humane Laws, and followed no other rule of life, but what would please or profit him: yet did he appear in the eyes of all the World in another vizard; and having spirit and wit enough, he palliated all his villainies with virtuous semblances, the better to compass his ends: yet had he no intimate friend but Heracleon only, but the League between them two was so great and close, that none could be greater. In the mean time, as I told you, Heracleon acquainted Tanisis with the present posture of his soul, so aggravating the Grandeur of his love, of his jealously and of his Ambition, that he perceived the miseries which he endured, required extreme remedies. And that let them be what they would, he was able to serve him. First Tanisis, who thought it more expedient to satisfy the Ambition of his friend, than his love, because himself had more interest in that passion than the other, told him, that at what rate soever it was, he must hinder the marriage between Sesostris and the Princess Liserina: In order to which, he must so protract it, that Amasis who was not well, might first die, before it was accomplished, since it was likely he would not live long: It was thought that he advised to poison him, to the end he might hinder Sesostris from being acknowledged his successor, and that he might be successor himself: As for the satisfaction of of his love, Tanisis could not imagine, that the heart of a simple shepherdess could hold out against a man of Heracleons' quality: he advised him first to have recourse unto presents, and afterwards to carry her away: As they were thus busied, and Heracleon saw nothing to do but to put the advice of Tanisis in execution, one of his servants came to tell him, that the King's Officer, who had been unjustly accused for raising that tumult which was in a Town within the Province of Thebes desired to speak with him. But, Sir, before I acquaint you with what this Officer told Heracleon, give me leave to put you in memory, that it was the very same man who found dying Ladice's Letter where Amenophis lost it, and who afterwards let it fall in Elephantine, where he was forced to retire until his friends had procured his Justification. After this, Sir, be pleased to know, that when he came within two day's journey of Elephantine unto one of his friends, he fell sick with sorrow, and to that height, as a Fever seized upon him, which for some days bereft him of his reason, but after he was recovered, and enquired of the passages in the world, he was much surprised to understand that the King had that Letter which he lost, and the more to hear that Sesostris was acknowledged for his Son: For Ladice's Letter not being sealed, when this Officer found it, he read it, and remembered very well that Ladice told the King she had left him a Daughter, and not a Son: So that not knowing what to think, he wondered that Amasis knowing the Princess his Wife's hand should not give credit unto her words; for those with whom he was, were ignorant that the Letter was a little torn or defaced; so that to be better satisfied he writ unto one of his friends in Elephantine: but before he began to write, he looked in his Table-book, in which he had put dying Ladice's Letter before he was sick, and there miraculously found a little bit of the Letter which made it apparent, that Ladice left a Daughter, and not a Son: So that then apprehending the mistake of Amasis, and knowing how he had formerly expressed himself, that if it were a Daughter Heracleon should marry her, he thought that he had found out a way to undeceive the King of his error, to make Heracleon happy, and to raise himself a fortune: And therefore he carefully sealed up this little bit of the letter, and as weak as he was he came to Elephantine in the night, going straight unto Heracleon's house, and found him in the company of Tanisis, as I told you. At first he desired to speak with him in private, but Heracleon telling him, that nothing was so secret which Tanisis should not know, he began to tell him, how he had found Ladice's Letter, and how he had lost it, and how he had found that which would convince Amasis of his error in thinking Ladice left him a Son; for it would be easy to prove it unto the King by that little bit of the Letter which mentioned a Daughter, and which was torn out of the Letter; so that comparing this bit with the Letter itself, he might find them so evenly jump, that the King might be put out of all error. Heracleon was beyond all expression glad, that he could render the birth of Sesostris doubtful; but to go surely to work, he would have this Officer concealed in his house, and examine all things at more leisure, conjuring him to have a special care of that which must take the Crown from his Sister and Sesostris, and put it upon his own head; for he made no question but Timareta was daughter unto Amasis: Yet could he not devise why Traseas should disguise the truth. But since it appeared that Ladice had a Daughter, it must necessarily follow that there was some imposture in the relation of Traseas: So that to sift the matter before it came to the King, Heracleon and Tanisis resolved to tamper with Traseas, and either by promises or menaces to screw the matter out of him: This course being resolved upon, Heracleon and Tanisis went to the house of Traseas, and came thither before the Sun was up, or Timareta awake. But the more to oblige unto a true relation, Heracleon would tell him at first what he knew: I come hither (said he unto him) to make you confess the truth of the business which I know as well as yourself, but to know what reason you had to tell the King a lie, and to make him most injustly to acknowledge Sesostris for his Son, and to obscure that Daughter which the Princess Ladice left him? Speak Traseas (said he) tell me your reason for it? but never go about to maintain Sesostris to be his and Ladice's Son; for know, that the King within these two days must see all that wants in Ladice's Letter, which will apparently prove the King is gulled, and that Sesostris is not his Son, and that all tortures that can be devised will be inflicted upon you to make you speak the truth: yet if you will trust me, and tell me truly why you put this imposture upon him, and where the Daughter of Amasis is, I will promise not only to protect you, but to keep you in the King's favour: And if you will confess unto me that Timareta is his Daughter, and do as I would have you, I will promise you a recompense much above that which Amasis gave you. Whilst Heracleon was speaking thus, Traseas was extremely perplexed; for he perceived by his manner of speaking, that he knew all the truth: so that fear damping his spirits, he could not reason upon the matter; yet he perceived, that though Heracleon knew Sesostris was not the Son of Amasis, yet he did not know him to be the Son of Apriez; therefore he conceived him to be ignorant of it, otherwise he would most certainly have intimated it unto him: So that af-after he had seriously considered with himself, he resolved to confess unto Heracleon, that Timareta was the daughter of Amasis, conceiving it was that which he principally desired: for Traseas being a man of a quick wit, and spirit enough, and knowing that the King when he was in the Isle, said, if he had a Daughter he would marry her unto Heracleon: he doubted not but it was his own interest which he sought after: But as he resolved to confess the truth, as relating unto Timareta, and to say she was the daughter of Amasis: So he resolved also not to discover that Sesostris was the Son of Apriez: for it was a horror unto his conscience to deliver the Son of his Legitimate King unto the hands of an usurper, who perhaps world put him to death: so after he had well consulted with himself, and seeing Heracleon multiply both promises and threatenings. Sir, (said he unto him) If you will solemnly swear that you will save my life: I shall confess all I know, and as much perhaps as you desire to know: Heracleon then swearing unto him, Traseas confessed that Timareta, was the King's Daughter: Adding, that Sesostris was his own Son: and that Fatherly indulgence prompted him to make him King in prejudice of Timareta; and then King also to get a better recompense, for finding the King a Son, than a Daughter: But, (said Heracleon unto him) It appears Sesostris passed for the Son of Amenophis, and not as yours, and you confessed as much to the King: 'Tis very true Sir, (replied Traseas boldly, the better to colour his lie) but the reason was, because when the contagion did almost depopulate our Isle, and when the Queen and the Prince Sesostris her Son died, and spared this Sesostris whom now you know Amenophis with a thousand promises of recompense, desired me to let my son pass for his, never telling me his reason for it: and indeed I consented, knowing my Son would be more rich by passing for his Son than mine: so that all the shepherds in the Isle never thought Sesostris to be my Son: After this Heracleon and Tanisis began to whisper low one to another, and to examine what Traseas had said concerning Sesostris: For they saw Amenophis had a design to make Sesostris pass for the Son of Apriez: and they began to suspect that Traseas had not told the truth, but that Sesostris was really the Son of Apriez. Yet they did not conceive it expedient to dive too deep into the matter, for knowing that Amasis of late was much stung with remorse of conscience for all that was passed, they feared that if he should come to know that Sesostris was the Son of Apriez, and afterwards should hear of the affection between Sesostris and Timareta, he would marry them together to quiet his conscience, and to take away all colour of War: Therefore, though Heracleon did suspect Sesostris was not the real Sesostris, yet he did not make his suspicions known unto Traseas; but resolved by the advice of Tanasis, first to let him become a shepherd again, and afterwards absolutely to ruin him. But Sir, after an exact consideration of all the consequences in this affair, they instructed Traseas, in all they would have him do, Heracleon beginning to let him have a taste of his liberality. And to the end Traseas should not have time to repent or fly, or adventure Sesostris or Timareta, they obliged him to go presently with them unto Elephantine: Leaving two Servants which came with them, to conduct him, appointing them to follow Traseas some twenty paces from him, and no nearer, lest too much notice should be taken: But Sir, Heracleon, as it was plotted betwixt him and Traseas, went to the King as he returned from the Temple, and as he was entering into his Palace, Traseas fell down upon his knees most humbly beseeching the King to give him audience: Amasis turning about, and knowing him, thought that some had done him wrong, and he demanded justice, or that he had not received what he commanded should be given him: So that turning towards him, It is just, said he, that the man who found me a successor should obtain what audience he desires. Oh Sir, (said Traseas with tears in his eyes) I come not to demand any justice, but a pardon, since I am the most guilty man alive. Amasis' being astonished at the Language of Traseas, in whose countenance, he saw fear imprinted, commanded him to follow, because he would not have all the people to hear: and being entered into his Chamber, where he would have none to follow, but Heracleon and Traseas. This shepherd fell down upon his knees again, Sir, said he to Amasis, you see prostrate at your feet, that miserable shepherd, whose ambition to make his Son King, has made himself the most culpable of men: For truly Sir, Sesostris is my Son and not yours: and Timareta whose beauty attracts the eyes of all that behold her, is really your Daughter. Amasis' infinitely perplexed at this, began to look upon Traseas with much anger: How dost thou think I can believe thee (said he unto him) after such a fair tale when I was in the Isle? how can I believe this which now thou tellest me is true? who or what will you give me good security of it? for since thou art capable of such an imposture, may I not as well think thou wouldst make thy Daughter to Reign in prejudice of my Son, as thy Son in prejudice of my Daughter. From whence proceeds this remorse of conscience which thus exposeth thee to my fury? Hath Osiris appeared unto thee? or what hath caused thy repentance? Sir, replied Traseas (following the instructions of Heracleon) As soon as I heard of your Majesty's intentions of marrying Sesostris unto the Princess Liserina, my conscience did so extremely torture me, that I had rather suffer the punishment which I deserve, then to let a miserable Shepherd run any longer into such a fortune as he was unworthy of. Moreover, Sir, if the weakness of your eyesight had not hindered you from seeing that extreme resemblance which Timareta hath of the Princess her Mother, you would at first have known her for your Daughter; and this did induce me principally to deceive your Majesty. Heracleon would then have spoke something in favour of 〈…〉 seas, but Amasis not hearing him, asked this Shepherd a hundred questions, unto all wh 〈…〉 he gave such satisfactory quick answers, that Amasis was at a dilemma. However, he loved Sesostris so well, that his natural inclination prompted him to maintain him in the rank wherein he was, and to punish Traseas as an Impostor. But as he was in this mind, the Officer which was concealed at Heracleons' house, and was instructed by him, sent unto the King by the Captain of his Guard, that he had some business with him whereupon depended the tranquillity of all his life, and that it concerned him to know it as soon as possibly he could. Amasis' with a disordered mind, commanded him to enter, and the sooner, because he understood this man had cleared himself of that raising of Sedition, whereof he was accused, I shall not tell you, Sir, in what language this man acquainted the King, how it was he who found the Letter in Nea, how he read it as soon as he found it, and saw that it mentioned the leaving him a Daughter; how afterwards he lost it at Elephantine, and how miraculously he found that which would convince him of his error; for if I should make a full relation, it would be too tedious, Sir, unto you. However Amasis' no sooner heard what he said, but being very impatient to see what he had brought him, he took the little bit of paper which the man had preserved; and the King joining it unto the Letter of Ladice which was torn, it filled up so even and justly, and answered unto every corner, like wax unto a Seal, that there could not be the least suspicion of any cozenage; for it joined so close, that it was hard to be seen where it was torn: But as the King was much surprised to see this little bit of the Letter fit his place so justly; so was he much more, to find, that then it was as plain as the Sun, that Ladice left him a Daughter; for the word Daughter was in that little bit which was added: nor could he suspect any forgery, but that it was writ with the hand of Ladice as well as the rest of the Letter. Amasis' then being satisfied that Sesostris was not his Son, asked Traseas who he was? and he answered him as he answered Heracleon, to wit, that himself was the Father of Sesostris; and answered so fully unto all objections which Amasis could put unto him, that he could find no cause of contradiction. But since Heracleons' passion did as well thirst for revenge upon Sesostris as his Rival, as to satisfy both his love and ambition by marrying Timareta, he told the King in a low voice, that he believed Amenophis had taken the son of Traseas intending to make him pass for the Son of Apriez; and according to his judgement, it were fit to observe him, lest he should go into Thebes, and persuade the people that he was the real Sesostris. But Amasis, who did extremely affect Sesostris, whosoever he was, not only because he had obtained him a glorious victory, but by reason of a powerful instinct, he would not hearken unto the proposition. It is enough, said he, if I take from Sesostris the quality of a Prince, and not his liberty; and let his birth be what it will, it appears so gloriously in the world, that I cannot think it base: If any be to be arrested, it is Traseas, not him; and indeed the King committed him unto the custody of his Guard, and appointed two women of quality in Elephantine to go unto Timareta. But since Heracleon would needs be the first that should carry this good news unto his fairest Shepherdess, he beseeched the King he might wait upon the two Ladies thither, which he granted him, expressly charging him, and the Officer who found Ladice's letter, and Traseas to say nothing without permission from him, of any thing which had passed amongst them. Thus the Prince Sesostris, being ignorant of what was doing against him, thought of nothing but that misery which his greatness caused unto him, not thinking he was like to lose it. In the mean time Heracleon went to Timareta, who was much troubled for Traseas as well as Nicetis, but much more was she moved at the sight of a Coach full of Ladies, and when these Ladies told her, they had commands from the King to carry her unto him, at first, Timareta answered, that it was not credible so great a Prince desired to see so simple a Shepherdess as herself. Yet when she saw them in good earnest, she began to fear that Heracleon, who she saw amongst them, would put some trick upon her: But he perceiving her thought, by the leave of the Ladies took her aside, and being separated some Paces from the Company, conjured her not to acquaint the King how he had revealed his secret unto her. Truly Sir, said she unto him, you think I do not know myself, but because I have been brought up with the Prince Sesostris, therefore that must make me familiar with the King his Father: No Madam said he unto her: ah Sir, (said she and interrupted him) I beseech you do not so extremely Jeer me: do not give me any such title as shepherdess do not understand: I do not give you the title as a shepherdess (replied he) but as a Princess. For now, Sesostris is no more than a simple shepherd, and you are the Daughter of Amasis. Believe me Madam, (said Heracleon, seeing she gave no credit to him) what I speak is truth; and before to morrow night, you will see yourself above all the Grandees in Egypt, and Sesostris will 〈…〉 below all that can be called base. Oh Sir, (replied Timareta all amused) Fortune is ne 〈…〉 so blind nor so unjust, as to cause such a Revolution: However it be, said he, these Ladies have orders to wait upon you unto Elephantine; And I to guard you, then being myself infinitely happy in the honour of being the first messenger of such good news. This you tell me seems so impossible (replied she) that I cannot believe it; and though it should be true, yet I find myself so unworthy of such an honour, that I shall never receive it. After this, they put Timareta in the Coach; but she would not go, unless they would let Nicetis go with her. In the mean time, she being naturally handsome, and since she was always uncertain whether Sesostris would come that way in hunting, she was never in her negligent dress; Therefore she appeared so fair in the eyes of those Ladies who waited upon her, that they all admired her beauty: As for Heracleon, he thought himself almost at the top of happiness: For he imagined himself married unto the greatest beauty of all Egypt, and unto one who would make him King. Moreover, he had the satisfaction, to put his rival besides his Mistress and Throne: So that meeting with that at one time, which would fully satisfy, both his love, his ambition, his jealousy, and his revenge, he was as happy as his own wishes could make him. But so was not Timareta, whose astonishment was so high, that she was not capable either of joy or sorrow; yet she inclined more unto the latter of these than the first. In the mean time, she arrived at the Court: Heracleon acquaints the King; and he bids her to enter. But she was not sooner two paces within the Chamber, and the King upon a sudden seeing as well as ever he did: he found in Timaretaes' face such a prodigious resemblance of the Princess Ladice his wife, that he made no doubt but Timareta was his Daughter: so that embracing her with abundance of tenderness, he acknowledged her for his own: and acknowledged her with as much joy, as he was at the miraculous change in his sight, which made him able to behold Timareta, and confirmed him in his opinion that the gods would protect him. Timareta seeing the honours which the King did her, knew not how to receive them: yet she told him with as great grace as modesty, that she was only a simple shepherdess, and far unworthy such favours from so great a King: for since she thought it impossible that she should be acknowledged for a Princess and that Sesostris should become a shepherd again, she would not answer the King as his Daughter. In the mean time, since the King made no question of of what Traseas told him concerning Timareta, he also believed all he said concerning Sesostris; so that thinking his repentance had expiated his crime, he commanded him to be set at liberty, and to come before him. Traseas no sooner saw Timareta, but he asked her pardon, for offering to take the Crown from her, and giving it unto Sesostris. Timareta hearing Traseas say so, blushed, and looked down with her eyes: yet was it not for any anger at the injury he had done her; but for sorrow that she should be a cause of Sesostris his returning unto a shepherd again. In the mean time, the King caused all the Ladies to enter, and told them who Timareta was: so that this fair shepherdess, becoming a Princess in an instant, you may well imagine, she stood in need of as great a spirit as she had. And since Amasis had commanded the matter should be closely carried, lest Sesostris should know the alteration in his Fortune: he caused Timareta and all the Ladies to go into another room, and commanded to fetch Sesostris unto him. But as Timareta was ready to go out of the King's Chamber, being prompted by a thought which she could not keep in, Sir, said she unto him, I beseech you give me leave, before I go, to ask you whether Traseas who I ever thought to be my father, ever told you how I owe my life unto Sesostris: and that if I have the honour to be your Daughter, you are obliged to recompense him for my sake: As Timareta could not speak 〈◊〉, without some disorder which appeared in her face, Heracleon had much more does 〈…〉 in his heart: and the more, because the King desiring to know how Sesostris saved Timaretas 〈◊〉 e, This fair Princess it unto him, with all possible aggravations, as if she had a desire, in taking the Crown from Sesostris, at least to procure him the King's favour: 'Tis true, he had a strong inclination, to lend a favourable ear unto any thing that was in advantage of Sesostris. Therefore when Timareta had ended her relation, the King assured her, that he would esteem Sesostris as her deliverer: Then he parted from her, as soon as he had commanded the Ladies, to see her in an Equipage suitable to her present quality: so Heracleon conducted her unto her Chamber. As for Nicetis she met her husband in the outer-chamber. In the mean while, Amasis having sent for Sesostris, he perceived in his going to the King, that there was some extraordinary matter in the wind: for notwithstanding all their care's to conceal it, the noise of it was spread abroad. But though he saw wonder in all the faces he met, yet he could not guess what the matter was: but he was not long in ignorance, for as soon as he came unto the King, who prepared him as well as he could to make the news as little sad unto him as he could: he told how he had been deceived, how that he was not his Son, and how Timareta was his Daughter, demonstrating unto him all his proofs: Moreover (said he, and gave him not time to speak) do not think that the man whom I esteemed worthy to be my son and really was so, shall ever become a shepherd again: No, no Sesostris, I do not intend it: but on the contrary, I will make a public declaration that you shall have a Rank above all my Nobility, and continue so near the Throne, as it shall be hardly perceived you have had a fall. Sir (replied Sesostris, who had time to recollect himself whilst the King was speaking) since I received the honour of being taken for your son, without any pride or ostententation: So I receive the news of my change, without a grudge, or despair, or sorrow: yet I must needs confess, that if I had quitted this honour unto any other but Timareta, I should have been most exreamly sad: but I know her virtue so worthy of her quality, that I stand in need of no comforts in my loss, since she is the gainer: Moreover Sir, I confess myself infinitely obliged unto you for your Princely expressions, but yet I cannot accept of your offers: for truly Sir, if ever I come into the rank of your Nobility, I will be something beholding unto my sword, and not altogether unto your goodness for the honour: And truly considering the present condition of my Soul, I am not yet resolved whether I should make use of my sheephook or my sword: for I had need of a little time to examine whether I have found more or less misfortune in the one then in the other: Yet I most humbly beseech you to believe, that I never contributed any thing unto your Majesty's error, since I never thought myself to be the Son of Traseas, but of Amenophis. But whatsoever I be Sir, I shall be always affectionately devoted unto your service: But before I leave the Court, I beseech you give me leave to bid adieu unto the Princess Timareta. I consent unto it most willingly (said the King) but not that you shall bid her adieu; Sesostris answered unto these obliging expressions, with much respect: and though Amasis would not have him go from the Palace; yet he would not lie there, but went unto my friend whom I brought him acquainted with, and where we left all our martial Equipage. He was no sooner there, but he sent for me to acquaint me with the revolution in his fortune; yet I knew it before, by Traseas and Nicetis, who were returned home. But when I came unto his Chamber. Well my dear Miris, said he unto me, is not my fortune very fickle? and must not he be either insensible or mortal that dies not for sorrow at such an alteration? not that I do at all regret the Grandeur so much as perhaps you imagine, for thanks be to the heavens, I have a soul which sores above all sorts of ambition: but that which grieves my soul is, that I am still at an unsuitable distance from Timareta, either as a Prince or a shepherd; and I conceive, that though she possess that honour which I had yesterday, and I that which she hath quitted; yet I am still further of inequality then before. For had I been a King, I might have created her a Queen: but Timareta being Princess, must never make me a King; and therefore my dear Miris, if I do lament the loss of a Sceptre, it is not out of ambition, but only out of love. Moreover I cannot look upon Traseas as my Father, until Amenophis return, and assures me I am his Son: And since now there is no necessity of concealing ourselves, I would advise you (said he to me) to appear in the world for what you are, to the end you may acquaint me with the passages in it: for when I have once seen Timareta, I am resolved to forsake it: not that I can so soon depart from Elephantine, since Heracleon is in love with Timareta: for though I am a shepherd, Egypt shall never have a King that is my Rival. There I endeavoured to persuade Sesostris, that he must not run any hazards of ruining himself; but stay in expectation of some change, which might happily be advantageous for him; that the return of Amenophis would perhaps better instruct us; and truly after all this, I was confidently persuaded that neither Traseas or Amenophis ever gave him life. In thinking to comfort me, replied he, you drive me unto new sorrows; for admit I were that which you think I am, yet am I the most miserable man in the World: and if I be not what you suppose me, still I am all infortunate. In the mean while, Sesostris was not the only one who complained: The Princess Liserina had her full share of sorrow; ambition did no less torment her, than love did Sesostris: she told every one, that this was but a suspicion of her brothers, who had a desire to be King himself: adding that certainly Sesostris was the Son of Amasis: and that Timareta was no more than a shepherdess: and she spoke it so loud and confidently, that Heracleon moved the King to send for her, to command her silence; for in the humour Heracleon was, there was nothing which he would not sacrifice unto his ambition: In the mean time, how great soever the desires of Sesostris were to see Timareta; yet his sorrows were so great that day, as he was forced to stay until the morning, passing away the night in such restless thoughts, that he never shut his eyes: Timareta for her part, she enjoyed no delight in all her Grandeur; but slighted all manner of diversions, or care in dressing herself: For all the magnificence of her Lodging, she took more delight in the remembrance of her Cabin where she could talk with Sesostris: and when she considered that she was like to lose him for ever, she was in a mind to part with all her Grandeur which caused the misfortune: sometime she was more grieved to see herself a Princess, and Sesostris a shepherd, than she was when she believed herself a shepherdess, and him the Son of a King. There was none therefore whose joys were full, but only Heracleon and Tanisis. As for Amasis, for all the satisfaction which he had to see the living Image of his dead but dear Ladice, he had such a restlessness in his heart, as quite distempered him, so that he found no delight in any thing. But Sir, the next morning being come, Sesostris according unto the King's permission, went to see Timareta, and entered into her Chamber, as she was dressed the first time, as a person of her quality: As for Sesostris, he was in a plain handsome suit without any trimming, such as men of quality commonly use to wear when they would not be seen. But there was such a mass of melancholy in his heart, that he could hardly keep it out of his face: 'Tis true, he had some cause of consolation, for when he entered into Timaretas Chamber, he found her face so full of serious sorrow, amidst all her magnificence, that he might easily divine the cause: This vision was so pleasing, that it made him able to hide some parts of his sorrows. But on the contrary, Timareta seeing so much constancy in the soul of Sesostris, did the more tender his heart by the tears which fell from her fair eyes: So that desiring to hide this disorder from her women, after Sesostris had saluted her with a profound reverence, she went into a corner between her bed and fire, where he followed her, and began to speak; Madam (said he unto her) I beseech you take it ●ot ill that the shepherd Sesostris should assume so much liberty as to entreat you would be pleased to give him that sheephook your fair hand was used to carry, assuring you he shall receive it with more consolation than he did the news and hopes of his being King of all Egypt. Ah Sesostris, (said she and interrupted him) I do not take it well, that your spirit should be so free after your change, as to talk of any such thing. I remember, that the first time you saw me after the King had acknowledged you for his son, you looked upon me with eyes full of tears: 'Tis true Madam (said he) but I am now so afraid my sorrows should be ill interpreted, and that you should think I grieved at the parting from that Grandeur which now is yours, that I mastered myself, and hid some part of my sorrows; yet if you will be pleased to assure me, you will not think ambition to be the cause of my sorrows, I shall show you all my sad resentments: But that I may with more freedom do it, I beseech you be this day only the shepherdess Timareta: you will be a Princess all the rest of your life, and it is but one hour which I shall desire to deprive you of that honour: I assure you, replied Timareta and sighed, that I shall be unto you, ever the same I was. True it is, I will not engage myself to live with you as I have done, for you know decency does not allow it; but I promise you, that the change in my fortune is not able to change the least thought of my hear●▪ And I shall ever think myself most unhappy in my condition, because it is different from yours. I do not think that after this you will complain of me; Nor do I complain of you Madam (replied he) but I do extremely complain of my unhappy fate, which raised me up to throw me down again, and which only raised you to make me more miserable. But Madam, however I beseech you do not deny me that which has absolute dependency upon yourself, and which neither contradicts virtue nor decency: Me thinks (replied Timareta) after what I have already said, I need not tell you, that I will not deny you any thing you shall ask, so it bring just conditions with it. Since so Madam (replied Sesostris) let it not offend you, if I conjure you to believe that your quality hath nothing augmented those respects I had of you, and that quality which within these two days I had, did nothing lessen the passion of my soul to you. Moreover Madam, that you may not take it ill if I preserve the same passion still in my heart; remember I beseech you, that since I was not capable of change in becoming the Son of a King, so I am not capable of any alteration in returning to the quality of a Shepherd: So that adoring you out of a compulsive necessity, against which there is no resistance, you would be unjust if you were offended at it. Moreover, Madam, since in losing my chief happiness I have not lost all my reason, I know very well that I can hope for nothing from you; that it is my duty to adore you, and never see you; and that it is only death that must terminate my sorrows: All that I can in reason ask, is, that you will be a little angry at fate for putting a greater inequality in our qualities then in our inclinations. However, since you give me leave to speak unto you now as unto the Shepherdess Timareta, I must tell you that there is one thing that you can do for me which will keep me from dying with grief. If it be in my power (replied she) and that it be not against the rules of virtue and decency, certainly I shall do it. I have so deep a respect of you, replied Sesostris, that I dare hardly speak it; but since I am confident in your goodness, I must tell you, Madam, that all the favour which I beg is, that you will not marry Heracleon, when I was in the same quality you now are, I was firmly resolved never to marry any but you. But, Madam, since the laws are not equal betwixt us, I shall not ask so much, but only except Heracleon from all the Princes in the world. Not but that I am most confident the day of your marriage with any Prince will be the day of my death, but my death will be less sharp if it add not felicity unto Heracleon. If you had not given me leave to express myself, Madam, I should not have spoke so boldly as I do. But since if you please to remember, that the Prince Sesostris offered to throw away his crown if you pleased, and to seek out some desert Isle, where he might live with you, I hope you will not think the Shepherd Sesostris too insolent. I think him so unfortunate (replied she) that though he were too bold, yet I should not be offended at him: But to answer directly unto what you ask me (added she) I promise you to use all the endeavours that in all handsomeness I can, never to marry Heracleon. And I promise you more than that; for if I cannot oppose the Kings will, I will have recourse unto death. Yet I do not by this exact any great obligation from you, for I have such a strong natural aversion against him, that I will thwart his intentions, as well out of love to myself, as out of love to you. But the thing which I would have you take for a favour is, that if the gods would leave me to my own choice, I had rather be a Shepherdess with you, than Queen of twenty Egypt's without you. Oh, Madam, said Sesostris, how much am I obliged to you for these expressions which will infallibly hasten my death, and hinder me from droning out a longer unhappy life? For after this I must die with grief to see myself driven to such a sad necessity of losing one so infinitely generous. No, no, Sesostris (said she unto him) I would not have that which I speak to comfort you be an augmentation of your sorrows; but on the contrary, if I have any power of you, I would have you live and love me, and that I may still have so much consolation as to think, that in what place soever you are, you keep your affection for me. That which may be an assurance unto you of mine, is, that when you were the Prince Sesostris, and I Shepherdess Timareta, what inequality soever there was between us, yet I should not have taken it well you should forget me, though I had desired you to do it: So that you are no farther off my quality than I was of yours, you need not fear I should forget you, though I see you not. After this, ask me no more: Doubtless I do too little for the Shepherdess Timareta, but perhaps a little too much for the Princess of Egypt. As they were thus in talk, one came to tell Timareta in all haste, that the King would speak with her, so that she must part abruptly from Sesostris: Yet she bade him adieu as the Shepherdess Timareta, and though in a tumult, yet tenderly, and in such an obliging manner, that though the passion of Sesostris was very violent, yet had he no cause to complain. He retired then unto the lodging which he made choice of for his retreat, where he related unto me this sad discourse, as he used to do all others. In the mean time Timareta in going to the King's chamber, understood that he sent for her to tell her, that having engaged himself unto Heracleon, that if he had a Daughter to marry her unto him, therefore he would acquaint her with it, to the end that she should begin to look upon him as upon one that was to be her Husband. It is so short a while, replied Timareta, since I had the honour to know I was your Daughter, that methinks it is injurious to make me so soon acknowledge any other authority than yours; therefore, Sir, I beseech you, let me a while enjoy the honour which I have. As the King was ready to answer Timareta, and tell her that he would be obeyed, he fell into a sound which lasted near an hour, and when he recovered out of it, he found that he had quite lost his sight; and whilst he was in his sound, his imagination was filled with the same apparition which formerly he had seen, but with this difference, that the menaces of Ladice were more terrible; so that he was not in a condition to talk any longer unto Timareta concerning her marriage with Heracleon, for he was so troubled that he knew not what to resolve upon, not daring to tell all his grief; For since he was not ignorant of Heracleons' ambition, and knew what that passion could offer, he durst not express how much he was troubled at the menaces of the gods, if he did not restore that Crown which he had usurped: So that keeping all his sorrows to himself: Oh ye just gods, said he, which punish me with such severity, though deservedly, How should I restore the Sceptre which I have usurped? The son of Apriez is dead as well as himself, and there remains none living of his line; yet you let me understand by these horrid visions, that the Child of this unhappy King is not dead, but you do not let me know where he is: I had some suspicions indeed that Sesostris is the true Sesostris, and you who know the secrets of hearts, do also know that when I declared him my successor, I thought him to be as much the son of Apriez as mine own: yet I must confess that had I then known him for the son of that unhappy King, I should not have restored him the Sceptre, because I was unwilling to part with Sovereign Authority, and to make a restitution in that manner before all the World: But now I have changed my mind, I cannot believe that Sesostris is the son of Apriez: for why should Traseas cause the son of his legitimate King whom he had brought up, to descend from the Throne? What likelihood is there that he should make one of the greatest Princes in the World to become a shepherd? There is more reason to think that Amenophis should take away the son of this shepherd with a design to make him pass for the son Apriez, and to send him to Thebes when he saw opportunity: Yet for all this the gods do tell me by the Oracles, that I must restore the Sceptre which I have usurped: and by most affrighting visions assure me that Sesostris is living: what should I do then? what can I resolve upon? As Amasis was in this restless mind, Heracleon came unto him, Timareta being returned unto her Chamber: And since Heracleon was a man who mocked at all these prodigies and advisements of the gods, he looked upon this accident which happened unto the King, as a thing which would be advantageous unto himself, which would the sooner hast on his marriage with Timareta, and more assure him of the Crown: Yet he durst not that day speak unto the King, who on the other side durst not tell Heracleon all the inquietudes of his soul. In the mean time Sir, be pleased to know that Amenophis and the servant were so happy, that he whom they feigned Amenophis mortally wounded, did not die of his wounds: and so it chanced that whether he was sick, the affairs of the Town changed faces, and the weaker party becoming the stronger, he left that side he was of to take the other. Thus in this general revolution, Amenophis found his safety, for the Prosecutor changing sides, would prosecute no farther, but suffered him to take his liberty. In the mean while, Amenophis after he had conferred with the revolters, who had raised fresh Forces, and had assured them there was a Son of Apriez living, and that he would infallibly bring him unto them, he returned unto our Isle in hopes to find Sesostris: But Sir, you may imagine his wonder, when he heard in all places where he passed, that Amasis knew by Ladices letter that he had a Son; that he had found this Son in an Isle near Elephantine, and that his name was Sesostris. Amenophis at first, thought all these reports to be but Fables; but finding the nearer he came to Elephantine, the more they were confirmed it, he knew not what to think. Yet his astonishment was nothing in comparison of that amazement he was in, when he came within a day's journey of this great Town, and heard that he whom Amasis had acknowledged for his Son proved to be no more than a simple shepherd, and was returned to his former condition; and that Amasis acknowledged a shepherdess, whose name was Timareta, for his Daughter: I say you may easily imagine how all these things surprised Amenophis: However he conceived it expedient before he attempted to go into the Isle, to know more certainly of the truth; so that he resolved to go unto Elephantine in the night, and lodge with his sister: But he was much perplexed to understand when he came there, that she was not in Town: so that Amenophis not daring to trust himself with the Domestiques of the house, and the Father of him with whom Sesostris and I lodged being his intimate friend, he resolved to make the Son's house his Retreat, whilst he enquired of the posture wherein things are: So that we were not a little astonished, when my friend, who knew how dear Amenophis was unto us, brought him into the Chamber where we were. I cannot easily express unto you Sir, both our joys and his. He asked us a hundred things, and we in lieu of answers, asked him other questions. In the mean time, the master of the house leaving us to the freedom of talk: I beseech you (said Sesostris, who had an extreme desire to know who himself was) Tell me who I am? Am I the son of Amasis, or the son of Traseas, or your son? you are none of all these (replied Amenophis) whose am I then? (replied Sesostris) you are Sir, (replied Amenophis) since it is now time to tell you, the Son of Apriez, and the legitimate King of Egypt, and I come to fetch you, that you may accomplish a design which hath been a long time in plotting. Sesostris was so surprised to hear this, that he doubted whether he had well understood him, so that he desired Amenophis to repeat what he had said. Then Amenophis gave him an account of his design in concealing his birth, and told him it was he who raised all the revolts in Thebes, Heliopolis, and other places. Then Sesostris and I told him all the adventures both of Timareta and himself, which did no less surprise Amenophis, than his relation did us: The actions of Traseas did most puzzle him; for he did not believe that the Prince's servant had revealed his secret. However it be said Amenophis, I had a design to carry both Timareta and you unto Thebes, and then acquainted Amasis, that Apriez had left a Son, and Ladice a Daughter, so that when he knew, we had a person so dear unto him in our power, we might have brought him unto some reasonable terms. But since that the posture of things are otherwise, Come, Sir, let us go to Thebes, whither I will conduct you, and let the unjust Amasis, see you are not his son but enemy, if he will not restore the Crown which is your due: I know very well, Sir, that when you parted from our Isle, you had a great affection unto Timareta; and though absence cannot cure you, and though she be Daughter unto the Usurper of your Dominions, you may yet love her, and you must make a just War to conquer her, and so enjoy at once both your Kingdom and your Mistress. Remember that your very name obliges you unto high things; and the Gods have given you spirit and heart enough to equal, and perhaps to transcend the most illustrious of your Ancestors. You know that when I taught you to be a faithful and courageous Shepherd, I taught you by it to be a great and generous King. Begin then the conduct of your people whom the Gods have lawfully subjected unto you, and know that the War you shall attempt is most just, and cannot choose but prove propitious. It is to expel an Usurper; it is to revenge your father, most barbarously massacred: it is to revenge the death of your mother, whose sorrows only put to death: it is to crown yourself with glory in the eyes of all Nations; it is to get your own Kingdom, and your Mistress. Oh Father (said Sesostris) for I cannot call you otherwise, I must tell you, and tell you without baseness, that I cannot, nor will not leave loving Timareta, though she be the Daughter of an Usurper. I do affect glory, and fear no dangers, but I love Timareta, and fear to offend her. Timareta (replied Amenophis) is questionless worthy of your esteem, not only for her beauty and excellency of spirit and virtue, but also for the generosity of her mother, who was as faithful a Subject as Amasis was perfidious: And for these reasons I am not against your loving her, but agree if Amasis' consent, that you may marry her: But to effect that, and to oblige Amasis to give her unto you, you must be in the head of an Army; you must ask her as the son of Apriez, and let him know that Sesostris the Shepherd, and Sesostris the Prince are not the same. Oh Father (replied he) this Prince, and this Shepherd you speak of are but one person, yet have different desires, and I doubt whether one can yield unto the other. The Shepherd ought to yield unto the Prince (replied Amenophis.) Reason would have it so (replied Sesostris) but Love will not consent unto it. If you do but consider the present posture of your fortune (answered Amenophis) you will find, that Love as well as Reason requires you should follow my advice: For the Shepherd Sesostris cannot pretend any thing unto the Princess Timareta. 'Tis true, replied he, but Sesostris the Prince ought not to pretend any thing unto the Daughter of his Enemy: That you may cease being his enemy, answered Amenophis, you must become his master, you must fight with him and conquer him, and then give back Timareta that Crown which you have with justice taken from him. These, Sir, were the arguments which Amenophis used unto Sesostris, to convince him in point of love, and to invite him unto Thebes; but the passion which had taken up a strong residence in the soul of this Prince, would not permit him so suddenly to resolve upon so difficult a matter: He desired of Amenophis two days of consideration, but indeed it was to find out an expedient how to acquaint the Princess Timareta with his true birth, and to hinder Heracleon from marrying her, yet he could not possibly compass either: for it being the custom of all mercenary minded vassals to follow fortune at the heels, and change as it doth, when Sesostris would have entered to have seen Timareta, those who were at the Palace gate, and kept it for Heracleon, did treat him like a Shepherd, and would not suffer him to enter. This course entertainment did so incense him, that he doubled his fury against Heracleon, though he did not know that this trivial disgrace was caused directly by him: His grief was, he knew not how to ruin Heracleon, for he was too generous to attempt any unworthy way, nor was it an easy matter to invite him to fight with a Shepherd, neither could he force him, because he went always well attended, nor did he ever stir out of the Palace since Timareta was acknowledged Princess. However, Sesostris could not resolve upon departure from Elephantine until he had made sure of Heracleon for ever marrying Timareta: nor would he go unto Thebes until he had first asked advice of his dear Princess: So that when those two days given by Amenophis were expired, he must allow him more: for since the noise of Heracleons' marriage with Timareta grew louder every day, the jealousy of Sesostris augmented accordingly, and the more, because he saw less hopes of revenge upon his Rival. In the mean while Amenophis was vexed to the heart, that he could not get Sesostris out of Elephantine. But to make some use of his vexatious abode in the Town, he went privately in the night to visit divers persons of his acquaintance whom he knew would not discover him, to the end he might dispose them unto any great design, if occasion were. But whilst Timareta grieved for Sesostris in the midst of all her grandeur, the Princess Liserina grieved for the loss of a Crown, and Heracleon thought of nothing but how to become King, to murder Sesostris, and to marry Timareta; and whilst Sesostris had a mind full of vexatious thoughts, and had a hundred plots in his brain, all opposite to one another: Amasis was most cruelly tormented, not only with sorrow for the loss of his eyes, but also with anguish of spirit, and sting of conscience for his wickedness; he thought always he heard the voice of Ladice threatening him, and the more was his misery, he observed that Heracleon began to take much authority upon him, and began to transact like a man who pretended to have all the power shortly in his own hands: But one extraordinary accident chanced, which did infinitely trouble him. Be pleased to know, that there is a general Feast observed throughout all Egypt, called the Feast of Lamps, which is celebrated unto the glory of Isis, and which is the only Feast amongst us, whose ceremony is alike observed in all Villages, Towns, and Cities; and the day being come, they adorn their Temples with Garlands, and strew all the streets with flowers, and set before their doors all that they have most rare. And when the Sun is set, and night begins, they light not only an infinite number of magnificent Lamps in every Church, but also in all the streets and public places, in all their doors, windows, and towers; about all the walls of the Town, upon the Masts and Prows of every Ship in the Port; and this they do to the very lest village or cabin of a Shepherd: so that at this time all Egypt is as light as day in the darkest night. And since amongst us it is believed, nothing is more acceptable to the gods than Perfumes, nor any thing more wholesome, or better to purify the Air, every one adds unto his Lamp a Bonfire of Aromatic wood before his door; so that in an instant there is such a pleasant vapour in the air, as perfumes all the fields about the Town: They use to sing also quantity of Songs in honour of Isis, both in their Churches and streets, but a large relation of this is not necessary unto my discourse: But this Feast being kept whilst we were there, every one hoped, that the presence of the King would make it more glorious, though the accident which happened did trouble all those who were lovers of quietness and peace. But, Sir, the hour being come when the Ceremony began, there was so much light, that all the Town seemed on fire: Amasis according to the custom went to the Temple in a Coach, and Timareta with him; Heracleon went on Horseback next after the King's Coach, and all the Court followed. But, Sir, the wonder was, that in all the streets where the King passed, all the Lamps seemed to extinguish, their light became dim, their fires went out, and their perfumes changed their pleasant smell: The shrill screeks and cries of fatal Birds were heard, and the accident did so amaze all the inhabitants of Elephantine, that they were full of fearful ejaculations and cries, which moving the King to ask the reason, and they were constrained to tell him; yet to sweeten the King's apprehension, Heracleon used all possible skill to find out the natural cause of this Prodigy; but Timareta was so affrighted, that she communicated her fears unto the King her Father; yet would he needs go on unto the Temple, but the same dismal sight and noise was still heard there as well as in the streets: So that this Prince not seeing as others did, heard nothing about him but murmuring of voices, which let him know that the people were affrighted; and he beseeched the Gods to let him know what it was they would have him do which might appease them. After which he returned unto his Palace, yet more perplexed then before. As for Sesostris, he had the happiness of seeing Timareta in the Temple, but yet he was not so happy as to be seen, though notwithstanding all her fears, he observed she looked all about for him. This being the posture of affairs, it chanced that an old servant belonging to Amasis knew that servant which was with Amenophis as he was standing in the streets to see the King pass; so that since they were well acquainted heretofore, he wondered that he should shun him, and seem not to know him: at first, he thought that perhaps he was deceived; but the care which the other took to avoid him, was it which confirmed him in his opinion, also he had a private mark in his face which made him very knowable: yet he could not speak unto him, for the press of people did part them: The servant belonging to Amenophis being at last come unto the door of his house where we lodged, he entered, and got out of sight from the King's servant, who then returned unto the Palace, for this servant being one of those who waited about the Bath, he was to prepare one for the King his Master. However he was certain that the man whom he had seen was the same which departed from Sesse, with the Queen, the young Sesostris, Ladice and Amenophis: so that considering well with himself, he thought it fit to acquaint the King, and did so as soon as he had opportunity: And since he named the house where he saw the man enter, the King was much amazed at it, for he knew it to be the house where Sesostris lodged: so that apprehending a servant unto the late Queen of Egypt, was with Sesostris who he suspected to be the son of Apriez, he began to think, he was not mistaken when he thought so: but as he was ready to command him who gave him the intelligence, to inquire better, concerning the truth, he had further intelligence from one of his servants that Amenophis was in Elephantine, plotting some great design: Amasis no sooner heard this, but he sent the Lieutenant of the Guard, to bring him by main force unto him; appointing also Sesostris to come, and expressly charging that Heracleon should not know any thing: These orders were secretly given, and as punctually executed, for he knew nothing of any passages since he was busy in Counsel with Tanisis and others all that day, consulting concerning his marriage with Timareta: But whilst he was deliberating upon a thing which he thought certain, and never looked at ways how to bring it to pass, Amenophis, Sesostris, his servant, and I were brought unto the Palace. You may very well imagine Sir, how this touched Amenophis to the quick, for since he was ignorant of the King repentance, he was in extreme fear lest Sesostris, should perish, or at least be kept a prisoner, if he were known to be the son of Apriez: He began to prepare himself for a denial, and to give Sesostris such instructions as he thought most expedient, to persuade Amasis that he was not son unto Apriez, in case he had any suspicions of it: But Sesostris told him that he would not pass for what he was any longer, for, said he, I would have Heracleon know who I am: and I had much rather Amasis should know I am the son of his enemy, then that Timareta should look upon me as a shepherd, and Heracleon as a man unworthy to measure a sword with him: he would have said more, but he was prevented by the Lieutenant of the Guard, who broke off our discourse and conducted us: But Sir, when we came to the Palace, Amasis would speak with Amenophis in private: so that carrying him into his Closet, we stayed in his chamber: But Amenophis was wonder-struck when he heard Amasis speak: Well Amenophis, said he unto him: I pray acquaint me with such things as I desire to know: I do not ask you what is become of Apriez his son, with any intentions of h●rme unto him, for know, that I am not the same I was, I have lost my ambition in losing my sight, and the justice of the gods lies so heavy upon me, as teacheth me to be just also: And therefore I desire to know certainly of you whether the son of Apriez be living, and were he is? Amenophis hearing the King to speak thus, knew not, whether or no he should trust him: But Amasis perceiving by his pumping for an answer, that he had no confidence in him, assured him with an oath, that if the son of Apriez were living, he would restore the Crown unto him, by giving him his daughter. Amenophis was now persuaded, and after high applauds of the Kings most generous resolution, he began to tell him the whole truth, making an exact relation of all passages, which happened unto Sesostris, unto the Queen, unto Ladice, unto Timareta, and unto himself, since he went from Sesse; handsomely aggravating the valour of Sesostris in the Combat with the Crocodile to save the life of the Princess, and giving him such hints as he might thereby guess at the affection which Sesostris had unto his daughter the Princess Timareta: After which, he added a most excellent rhetorical discourse, persuading him to stand firm in those resolutions which he had taken, and showing him that he can no way Reign so safe and securely, both with external and internal serenity of soul, but by causing Sesostris to reign: nor never so securely settle the Crown upon his Posterity, as by a marriage between Timareta and him: for, said he, which other way is it possible you should restore the Crown, and settle a satisfactory peace throughout all Egypt. But Sir said he, that your Majesty may not suspect me of any forged suppositions, it were requisite you sent for Traseas, Nicetis, the nurse of Timareta who yet lives; and some shepherds which are in the Isle, and were then so when I arrived there, and by all these your Majesty may know that Traseas had never a son, and that Sesostris is the son of Apriez, and the very same I brought with me when I came into that Isle; for though his age hath much altered his resemblance, yet there is resemblance enough to know him to be the same. Amasis, was so well persuaded by the arguments of Amenophis, that he scarce needed any further satisfaction; and the Gods had infused such a strong belief into his heart, that he was persuaded fully all was true which Amenophis had said: Yet not to be deluded in a matter of so great importance, he sent for all those Amenophis named, who confirmed all he had told the King: For Traseas no sooner came face to face before Amenophis, who bade him speak the whole truth ingenuously, without any disguisment, but he very sincerely did so. Thus there needed no more for the knowing of Sesostris, than the testimonies of Timareta's Nurse, the servant of Sesostris, and all the Shepherds, who all concurred in the very same relation. Then Sesostris entered, and Amasis spoke unto him in such a generous manner, that the hearts of all the hearers were mollified. Sesostris seeing this happy turn in fortune, did answer Amasis with wonderful wisdom and generosity, which appeared to be in a higher degree than the generosity of the King: For since his love to Timareta was all his thoughts, he behaved himself towards Amasis with the same respect, he did when he was thought to be his Father. In the mean time, since this Prince knew that Heracleon would most sadly resent this news, he would not have it published until better opportunities for it: So we returned that night unto the places where we were before. But, Sir, that which confirmed the King most in these resolutions which he had fixed upon, was, that after he had sent for Heracleon, and with all possible prudence acquainted him with the reasons which moved him to break his word, and that he received his reasons in such a manner, as let him know he had no mind to part with Timareta: In lieu of fearing any revolutions in the State, or apprehending the resentments of Heracleon, he found such quiet rest and satisfaction in his heart, as he had not enjoyed a long time before. So that dismissing Heracleon, he told him, for his last reason, that he could not dispose of that which was not his own; and that he never made any promise of Sceptre, or Timareta unto him, but in case Sesostris died; but since he was alive, all promises are null. Heracleon, with as much injustice as insolency, called that weakness which he should have phrased virtue; and told Amasis, with insufferable boldness, that he deserved more shame in restoring a Crown, than he did glory in getting it. But in conclusion, Sir, Amasis imposing silence upon him, he was forced to retire. Amasis' remaining in as much tranquillity of mind, as the other went away disordered. Yet he gave special order that observant eyes should be had over Heracleon; for since he loved him, he would not willingly lose him, nor be forced to drive him away from him. After this, he went to bed and slept, and in lieu of ghastly apparitions, and terrible dreams as he used to have, his imagination was full of sweet and pleasing things, Ladice appeared unto him, but it was in full lustre of that beauty which formerly he adored; in commending him as much as before she menaced him, and exhorting him to go on with what he had so well begun; and to augment the wonder, whether the joy and agitation of his spirits had dispersed some melancholy vapours, which caused his blindness, or whether the gods would either punish or recompense him according to the various thoughts of his soul, when he awaked, he found his sight restored; so that being transported with joy and delight, he sent for Sesostris and Timareta, and went with them unto the Temple, to render thanks unto the gods, himself declaring unto all the people that Sesostris was the Son of Apriez, and telling Timareta that she was much obliged unto a Prince, who though she was the Daughter of an Usurper, yet would give her the Crown of Egypt; yet Sesostris did publicly declare, that he would not wear the Crown until after the death of Amasis, but would be only regarded as the first of his Subjects. You may well imagine, Sir, how great was the joy of Sesostris and Timareta, when being returned to the Palace, and this Prince had the liberty to wait upon her to her chamber, and to talk with her freely before he returned unto the King, as he was desired, that he might be advised with concerning the best expedients of publishing the matter throughout all the Kingdom, and principally at Thebes and Heliopolis, to the end all Wars might cease. I hope you will pardon me, Sir, if I do not relate any joys and delights of this juncture; Sesostris & Timareta continued so short a time happy, that I cannot do it; nor will I relate all the resolutions the King took with Sesostris, and Amenophis; nor how great was the people's joy when they knew there was a Prince descended from their Ancient Kings who should succeed Amasis. But give me leave to tell you, that in consideration of the happy event of this adventure, the King pardoned Traseas the untruths which he had told: Sesostris did the same, and Amenophis followed their example. As for the Princess Liserina, she had some comfort, to see her brother put by the Kingdom: for she conceived him only to be the cause why she was not Queen. But as for Heracleon, the motions of his heart were most violent: and Tanisis' incensing him by his wicked Counsels, there was no abominable proposition which they made unto each other, which they did not hearken unto without any horror or repugnancy: But at last, after they had propounded Crime after Crime, they resolved, that considering the juncture of affairs, there was no way but to kill Sesostris, and the King also. And in the mean time to publish that Amenophis was an impostor, who foisted in a pretended Son of Apriez: And to farther that design, they resolved, that the King should first be killed, to the end it might be published that Sesostris killed him: and for a pretence, to raise a tumult, during which, Tanisis should kill Sesostris, having men for that purpose with him. This horrid design being resolved upon, all their endeavours were to put it in execution with all speed. Tanisis, accustomed unto all villainies, had always such men at his beck, who never look after any thing but recompense, but never inquire whether a thing be just or unjust: But the difficulty was, how to get him unto the King's Palace, at that time when the act was to be executed: Yet since Heracleon had many Creatures in the house, he found out one that was neither rich nor virtuous: moreover he had been once turned out of office by Amasis, and at the request of Heracleon restored: This man at the salutation of Tanisis, did ordinarily keep the Guard upon a little back stairs which went between the lodging of Sesostris and the King's Chamber: So that thinking the man most fit to give entrance unto those whom they would imply to murder the King, and the sooner, because it might easily be imagined that Sesostris was the Assasinate, considering the place which he Guarded, therefore Heracleon put on Tanisis to suborn this man: But Sir, I will not make any longer relation of an act so horrid: but in short, let me tell you, Tanisis suborned this Officer, who promised to let in whom he would: and the business was brought unto so near a point of execution, that men were ready to cry out the King was killed, and that it was Sesostris killed him; and lest there should be any failing in the enterprise, Heracleon had provided a boat upon the Nile, which ran on the back side of the Garden, that he might thereby save himself if need were, and also laid horses some thirty furlongs from Elephantine. In conclusion Sir, this being the Juncture of things, the King had intelligence by one of those whom he had set to eye Heracleon, that certainly he had some plot in hand, though he knew not what it was. Amasis' hearing this, feared that Heracleon had some ill designs upon Sesostris, not thinking of any thing against his person: So that to prevent any danger, he doubled the Guards towards the lodging of Sesostris, and by consequence weakened his own, which was favourable unto the design of Heracleon. But the gods being just, they did not favour him but unto his own ruin. For Sesostris knowing that the Guards were doubled at his door, would know the reason, and called him in who commanded the Guard, who at first said he knew nothing, but that accidentally the Guards were stronger on the one side then the other. But Sesostris, finding that this Soldier knew more than he would tell, he was very urgent with him, and so far, that at last he told him, it was supposed Heracleon had some ill design, because he was seen that night go out of the Palace, and speak unto an officer which had the Guard upon the back stairs, and was heard to promise him great recompenses. This officer saying to excuse his silence, that he durst not tell it, lest he should not be credited, and become exposed unto the hatred of Heracleon: Sesostris no sooner heard this, but after promise of recompense for his fidelity, he went to acquaint the King, though it was late, and he knew that he was retired to his rest: and certainly it was by the inspiration of the gods. However it was Sir, Sesostris went: and went not that way of the back stairs, but by the great common way, lest he whom the soldier suspected and commanded that side, should think he was discovered, if he should see him ●o so late unto the King, who was fast asleep, when Sesostris came unto the Chamber with two of the guard and myself. But the strangeness of this accident is Sir, that just as they opened the King's Chamber door to go and wake him, and tell him Sesostris desired to speak with him, we saw the wardrobe door open at the same time, and many men with drawn swords enter into the Chamber, which had a Lamp burning in it. Sesostris no sooner saw this, but drawing his sword, he ran with a most magnanimous generosity between the King's bed, and these Assassinate's, not considering him as the usurper of his Kingdom, but as the father of Timareta. So that the King being wakened with the noise of them that would have killed him and them that defended him (for the two Guards and I followed Sesostris with our swords drawn) the first object that he saw, was, that Sesostris killed one of the Assassinates, and wounded another, he also observed that he still stood betwixt him and them as much as he could. I cannot easily tell you, Sir, what an affrighting object this was unto Amasis, but it lasted not long, for the incomparable valour of Sesostris repulsed all the wicked Assassinates. Tanisis who led them up, felt the weight of Sesostris his arm, being wounded in two places: So that after this fear seizing upon all the Conspirators, they went out of the Chamber and Wardrobe: Sesostris would have pursued them further, but Amasis rising up hastily, would not let him: So that making the doors fast on that side, and guarding them until all were awake in the Palace, the King sent two of the Guard down the back stairs, to know the number of the Conspirators, and to report all they saw unto him: Also he sent other two to cause all his Officers to come unto him, and amongst the rest, Simandius: In the mean time those who failed in the execution of that design, rallyed about Heracleon; for he stayed in the Court with those whom he had appointed to murder Sesostris: But since he saw his designs did not hit, and that he could neither kill the King, nor Sesostris, he pitched upon another plot, which was to carry away the Princess of Egypt: He knew she had but few men with her, and that she lodged far off the King's lodging: For Elephantine not being the ordinary residence of our Kings, the Palace where he lodged was very irregularly built: So that Heracleon finding more facility in this design then the other, he did easily execute it. Causing then her door to be opened in the name of the King, he entered, and took away Timareta maugre all her tears, cries, and entreaties, and this great Princess had scarce time enough to dress herself. Yet she had this advantage in her misery, that her women went with her. In the mean time, those men whom the King sent to discover the Conspirators, hearing some women cry, returned in all haste, and told the King that they were in the Princess Timareta's chamber: So that Sesostris hearing this, ran like a man in fury to defend his Princess, but he came too late; for Heracleon and Tanisis were both already embarked. You may easily imagine, Sir, how this Prince was grieved, especially when he saw all his pursuits of Heracleon were in vain. That which favoured his flight, was, that none imagined that he was embarked in the Nile, but that he was still hid in Elephantine. The next morning it was known that Heracleon landed at the place where he had laid his horses, and that Tanisis stayed by the River's side, and died in the arms of some Shepherds who found him in that place, though no news could be heard of Heracleon, or which way he took; and though Sesostris used all possible endeavours to find it out; for he wandered two whole months, hardly knowing whither he went: Amasis for his part caused a strict search to be made all over the Kingdom, and all in vain: So that at last Sesostris was constrained to stay with the King until he had further light where Heracleon was. In the mean time, all those who took up Arms for the Son of Apriez, laid them down again. And the King went to Thebes, carrying Sesostris with him, whose sorrows were beyond expression. From Thebes they went to Memphis, where the King met with an Ambassador from Croesus, who demanded aid according to the alliance which was between them: So that Amasis sent those men who served in the war of Thebes, who had been witnesses of the valour of Sesostris, under the name of Psammetites: Amasis' willing Simandius to command them; but a while after these Forces were departed, a Letter which Heracleon writ unto one of his friends in Egypt, did happily fall into the hands of Sesostris, which let him know that he was in Lydia: So that Sesostris not communicating his design unto any but me, resolved to steal away from Amasis, and Amenophis, to serve in the War under Croesus: And this he did with abundance of reluctancy, for he was infinitely charmed with the fame of your valour and virtue, and loath he was to take any side but yours. Yet Love being the predominate passion of his soul, he resolved to serve Croesus, thereby to obtain Timareta: So that Sesostris stole away from the Court, and I followed him: At parting he writ unto the King, acquainting him with the cause of his voyage; also unto Amenophis, desiring him to appease the King, assuring him he would never return unless he brought back Timareta, also desiring him to move Amasis to write unto Croesus, that he would make a strict search for Timareta, and return her to him. At last, Sir, we arrived at Sardis, where Simandius was before us with the Forces he commanded, who were as full of joy as wonder to see my Master. I need not tell you, Sir, how Croesus, the King of Pontus, and the Prince Myrsyles received Sesostris very well: But I assure you, he was infinitely grieved that he could hear no news either of Heracleon or Timareta, after all his care and search with Croesus, made upon the Letter of Amasis. In the mean while as things stood, honour would not permit Sesostris to go out of Sardis to seek his Princess from Town to Town throughout Lydia; also the approach of the Army presently made it a thing impossible for him: So Sesostris in lieu of looking for Timareta, was engaged to fight, and he did so courageously, that he deserved immortal glory; and, Sir, you know that your Battalion was the only one that day which was not broken. But, Sir, be pleased to know, that the Prince Sesostris was not wounded by any of your men, but by the base Heracleon. I cannot tell you, Sir, how he came mingled amongst us, or how he came to know my Master; but when we were fight with the valiant Abradates, and when Sesostris did things worthy of your esteem, had you been a witness, this Traitor Heracleon came behind him, who thought he had no enemies to fight with but what were before him, and wounded him in such sort, that he fell down dead amongst our Heroes. As I was the only man who observed whose arm it was who gave the wound, so I was the only man who revenged the death, as I thought, of the Prince Sesostris, and as I was redoubling my fury, when I perceived it to be Heracleon, I was 〈…〉 dread from killing him outright, by a squadron of your men, Sir, who pursuing their victory, came betwixt Heracleon and me; so that I was forced to get into a Body of our men, where I stayed until after you had gained the battle, and until our showing our firm resolutions, obliged your great heart to put a difference between us, and them that fled, and to treat us with so much generosity, as moved us to think, that after you has saved the life of the Prince Sesostris; you would also out of your goodness make the wicked Heracleon confess in what place the Princess Timareta is: For truly, Sir, we have saved the life of the Prince Sesostris in vain, if he do not find the Princess whom he adores.  
My own misfortunes have so taught me how to have pity upon the miseries of others (answered Cyrus) that I must needs have much compassion upon the Prince Sesostris; and I assure you I will zealously interest myself in any thing that relates unto him; and to testify as much, I will go myself to make Heracleon confess where the Princess Timareta is; and I beseech the Gods that I may restore her unto the Prince Sesostris in releasing Mandana. After this Miris retired; for i● was very late, and Cyrus had but little time to rest; yet he did not sleep until he had bestowed one quarter of an hour in remembrance of his dear Princess; though it was with much sorrow at her unjust Jealousy, whereof she had given him such a cruel Testimony.   
The end of the Second Book.   

ARTAMENES, OR, CYRUS the GREAT. THE six PART. BOOK III.  
WHilst the most Illustrious Cyrus was lending an ear unto the adventures of Sesostris, and the crimes of Heracleon, the last of these hearing what care Cyrus had of Sesostris, he was in such a fury, as all his wounds opened, and such a violent Fever seized upon him, that intelligence was given unto Cyrus, that he could not outlive the night following: Cyrus then hearing in what condition he was, in remembrance of his promise, went to see him, and to win him either by fair means or foul to confess where Timareta was, but he found him not in a condition to be talked withal, for he raved, and was out of his wits; yet Cyrus had as good intelligence concerning this Princess in his raving idle talk, as if he had his reason free: For as soon as he saw the Prince at the side of his bed, and his imagination being filled with thoughts of Timareta, he thought Cyrus to be the King of Pontus, and began to thank him for giving Sanctuary unto the Princess Timareta in the Citadel of Sardis. Afterwards changing his discourse, he spoke sometimes of Sesostris as if he were dead, and sometimes again as if he would kill him: so that his mind not settling upon any one object, it was not possible to draw any certain intelligence concerning Timareta out of him: Yet since a Prisoner confessed unto Cyrus, that there entered a Lady of great quality into the Citadel of Sardis, he thought there was some ground to be taken of what Heracleon had said, yet he would not give this hope unto Sesostris, until he had more; but Heracleon having lost his speech, and a little while after his life, than he sent Miris unto him to acquaint him with the death of his Rival, and what great probability there was, that the Princess Timareta was in the Citadel of Sardis. After which, according to the custom, he went to give all necessary orders, and to visit his Troops, leaving the care of Heracleons' Funeral unto those about him. He went also unto the Tent of Araspes, whose wounds were not so vexatious unto him as the sorrows of his soul: From thence Cyrus went to hold a Council of War, wherein it was resolved, that within two days they should give a second assault: So that this Prince employed all his time in seeing the Engines, in instructing those who were to make them, in giving good counsel unto all the Officers, and in encouraging the soldiers. The King of Assyria, and Mazares did the like, and all the rest of the Kings and Princes in the Army were exceedingly zealous to promote the designs of Cyrus. Anaxaris in particular was not the least forward in the service of this Prince: And the Prince Sesostris being almost perfectly recovered of his wounds, was so very much joyed that there was some likelihood of Timaretas being in Sardis, that he would needs go unto the Camp, especially when he heard that an assault was to be given unto the Town: for though the forces of Amasis came with intentions to defend it, and the Egyptians unto whom Cyrus showed favour, had not submitted but upon condition not to be forced to fight against Croesus, yet now things looked with another face: and Sesostris heard that Croesus spoke unworthily of the Egyptians, who only resisted the Enemy in the day of Battle: This did so incense all them of that Nation, that they were resolved to fight for Cyrus: But since the resolution was taken whilst Sesostris was not in a condition to command them: this Prince, whose generosity was more scrupulous than theirs, would not suffer them, before he entreated Cyrus to let him send a herald unto the King of Lydia, to ask whether the Princess Timareta was in Sardis or no, and whether he would restore her? this he did, that he might find a way to do it without a wound unto his honour. He departed then from the Castle where he was, but first he took leave of the Princess Araminta, unto whom he had already made many visits, to thank her for the care she had of them, during the violence of his sickness. He bade adieu also unto the fair Cleonice, unto Doralisa, and all the rest of the Prisoners. Sesostris then after he had received a thousand civilities from all these fair Prisoners, went unto the Camp, where he was entertained by Cyrus with all the honours due unto his birth, virtue, and merit: And after Cyrus had offered him all assistance in his power, Sesostris desired he might send a Herald, to inquire and demand Timareta, which according to his desires was done. But this message was in vain, either unto Croesus or the King of Pontus: for the more persons of quality they had in their power, the more secure they thought themselves, and therefore would not restore Timareta. Croesus therefore answered, that it was true he had her in his hands: But he would not restore her, unless Amasis would send strong relief as might raise the siege of Sardis. So that Sesostris receiving this answer in the presence of Cyrus, turned smilingly toward him, and told him that in his apprehension, since it was more easy to take the Town of Sardis, then to relieve it, it were better for him to receive Timareta from his hand then from Croesus: therefore in lieu of relieving the Town, he would help to take it; and was very glad that he was certain she was in the Town, which could not choose but be taken, since the invincible Cyrus would assault it: My hope is, replied Cyrus, that since the valiant Sesostris will fight for Timareta, he will teach me by his example, how to fight for Mandana. In the mean time, Cyrus treated Sesostris with all civility, and would have all the Grandees of his Army visit him, and do him all honour, so that Sesostris that day saw all the Princes which were in the Army, who were so well satisfied with him, and so taken in with his spirit and civility, that he was infinitely esteemed. And to do him the more honour, Cyrus would have him command one Brigade of the Assaulters, so that the morning being come, all orders being given, all the Engines fit, all the Ladders ready, & every one prepared to fight, they began an hour before day, to fill the ditch about the Town in divers places with faggots: which was so readily done, that the assault was given almost in an instant: and this great Town, was set round with ladders except that side which looks towards the mountain Tmolus, which seemed inaccessible: Cyrus was in that quarter next the Citadel which was the most dangerous: The King of Phrygia assaulted that side towards Pactolus. The King Assyria, that which was opposite to it: And Mazares commanded that which was between Cyrus and the King of Assyria: Sesostris that side which looked towards the Plain: Tigranes and Phraartes another towards the principal Port: and Anaxares another quarter: Hidaspes, Chrisantes, Andramites, Aglatides, Persodes, Hermogenes, Leontidas, and all the brave men of the Army commanded under these Princes. The King of Hyrcania Gobrias, and Gadates, remained at the Camp, and commanded the reserves; to execute all the commands of Cyrus, and to send relief where there was need: The orders of this assault were not only judiciously given, but most courageously executed: and the more, because the Lydian resistance found matter enough for the valour of all these great Princes and Soldiers: Both besiegers and besieged were all fury, both in assaulting and defending: There was such a vast number of Ladders, and men to carry them, that if the Lydians had not been encouraged by a man whom love made think nothing difficult, certainly they never would have opposed so great a storm, and so general an assault, but he infused such spirit into them, and they fought so courageously, that they made their enemies admire them: for though they were assaulted by the most valiant Princes of the World, and by stout soldiers used to gain battles, conquer Kingdoms, and take Towns; yet they resisted them so sturdily, that they seemed invincible: they did not only send clouds of arrows, showers of stones, and throw down, Ladders, but fought hand to hand with heroic fury, against those that came upon the top of the walls: But Sir, though Cyrus did things prodigious, and all the rest of the Prince's wonders, especially Sesostris; and though every one fought with all their force, yet they were not able to carry the Town that day: Yet it was very remarkable, that except Tigranes who was slightly hurt in the hand by the fall of a ladder, there was not one of those Princes either kiled or wounded. 'Tis true Cyrus was oft in extreme danger, for he exposed himself so oft, that he was of tready to be thrown down from the top of the ladder, or else to be knocked in the head with stones which the Lydians threw: Yet he came off safe, but so sadly, that never any was more, for he found it a matter of great difficulty to force this Town: so that calling a Council of War whilst a Cessation of hostility was made for four hours, to draw off their dead, it was resolved, to force it no more, because it could not be taken by storm, by reason of the high walls, multitude of Inhabitants, and abundance of Soldiers which defended it: but they began to draw a line about it with forts, hoping to take those by famine who could not be taken by force: And the next morning without more delay, Cyrus went with the Engineers of his Army to view the ground, and to consider at what distance they should make it, and how they were to raise forts to defend it: It was no sooner resolved upon, but Prisoners and others began to cast up earth: Cyrus himself, being a while an example to encourage the laborers: so that the Inhabitants of Sardis seeing their Town ready to be enclosed: and that the besiegers went not about to raise their siege as they hoped, their joys for the last repulse of the enemies was quite quashed, and they began to murmur: some said one thing; some another; sometimes they would make them believe, that Cyrus cared not for Mandana, than they would persuade them, that he would discampe if they did courageously sustain this assault, yet it seemed thy were like to be exposed unto all the hardships of a long siege: So that they fell unto a fresh mutiny, for nothing is more terrible to the people then fear of Famine: The thing which much augmented their disorder, was, that when the siege began, there were many strangers in the Town who were forced to stay against their wills, and who now would have gone out if it had been in their power: amongst this multitude of strangers, there was one Lician Lady of quality, who coming unto Sardis to see a sister which was married unto Doralisas' Uncle, was there shut up, having with her one daughter, one Niece, and one of her friends, all three very fair and amiable: Every one was sorry that these three beauties and strangers should be shut up in a besieged Town. They did earnestly solicit Croesus for leave to write unto Doralisa, who they knew was the Princess of Pontus, since the death of Panthea, that she would obtain leave of Cyrus for three Ladies who were not of Sardis, to come out of the Town, and go unto their own homes. And since they knew Andramites was in love with Doralisa, also in favour with Cyrus, they hoped he would mediate for them: Therefore having obtained a a Herald from the King of Lydia, they writ unto Doralisa and Andramites, giving their letters unsealed unto this Herald, who according to his Commission, went out of the Town unto the head of the Trenches where he stayed, and where an officer and four soldiers came to conduct him unto Cyrus. This Prince no sooner knew the Cause of his coming, but he sent him immediately unto Doralisa; and sending her word by him who conducted the Herald, that he consented unto what was desired: so Doralisa and Andramites in lieu of coming to ask a favour, were obliged to come and thank Cyrus: Then the Herald returned with much satisfaction, the time being set when Cyrus would send a Convoy to guard these Ladies at their coming out of the Town: Then the Herald rendering an account of the happy success of his voyage; that Lician Lady, named Lycaste, accompanied with a Niece named Parmenides, her daughter called Cypide, a sister of Parmenides called Arpalice, and one of her friends named Candiope, went to thank Croesus and take their leaves of him: The Prince Myrsiles accompanied them to the Gates of the Town, in consideration only that they were cousins of Doralisa, whom he ever highly esteemed: and certainly this stood in need of a person of some authority to conduct them thither: For though the Inhabitants might have been glad of these Ladies going out of the Town, yet they murmured: yet the presence of Prince Myrsiles restraining them, they let them go out in a Coach, Parmenides riding on horseback, and followed by all the Train of Lycaste, and her own: A Herald of Croesus, riding before, to conduct them unto the place, where Andramites in the head of fifty horse wai●ed for them. But as if Fortune did strive how to make the most innocent actions of Cyrus seem culpable, it chanced that the Princess Mandana, and the Princess Palmis having got a day of leave to take fresh air, upon the Terrace, from which all the Plain is discovered, they were there just as these Ladies went out at the Gate next the Citadel; so that wondering to see a Coachful of Ladies go out of a besieged Town, they began to observe them, and follow them close with their eyes, so that they saw when the Herald conducted them to the place where Andramites stood, and observed how Andramites received them, Mandana perceived, or at least imagined, that he received them with much respect, and afterwards that he led them towards the Camp: Since all he did, must needs be by the orders of Cyrus, his actions could not be indifferent unto her; and she conceived that these Ladies could not come out of Sardis but by the permission of Cyrus; therefore she had so violent a curiosity to know who they were, and why Cyrus should show them such a favour, that she could not choose but ask the King of Pontus, the next time she saw him, which was every day at such hours as his business of War could best spare him, and when the melancholy of Mandana permitted him; therefore she no sooner saw him, but addressing her speech unto him: I would gladly know, Sir, said she unto him, who those Ladies were which yesterday went out of Sardis, and who have obtained more favour than I can? The King of Pontus, not being ignorant of her thoughts, answered her craftily, that those Ladies obtained a Passport from Cyrus, because they were Cousins unto a Lady whose name was Doralisa, who the Queen of Susiana loved very well, and who at this present is with the Princess Araminta. Thus this Prince, though he spoke nothing but truth, yet spoke very much against his Rival. Mandana not doubting but that Cyrus permitted these Ladies to come out of Sardis only in consideration of the Princess Araminta, and not at all of Doralisa; yet since she would hide the agitation of his spirit as much as she could. I wonder, said she, since the Princess Araminta has such a power over the spirits of Cyrus, that there are not more Ladies which make use of her credit with him to get out from hence; for I believe he can deny her nothing. I believe (replied the King of Pontus) that my Sister makes better use of that power which she hath over the soul of Cyrus, than you do of that which you have over me: You, I say, who every day ask things impossible, or at least things which if not denied, will give a death to him you ask them of. I know not what she asks (replied she) yet I am sure, I ask nothing of you but what is just, and which you ought not to deny me. Though I agree, replied he, that what you ask is just, yet I cannot agree, Madam, that I ought not to deny it: For Love is a passion which cannot acknowledge any empire but his own. Therefore never wonder, Madam, if I do not hearken unto what you say, since you never speak any thing but in opposition to my passion. Though I should confess, Sir (replied Mandana) that Love does not admit of Reason, yet it must admit, and submit unto necessity: Therefore to what purpose is all your obstinate endeavours to defend Sardis, and to win my heart, since the first of these is very difficult, and the other absolutely impossible? It were better policy for the King of Lydia to think of preserving his Crown, and for you to think of procuring your liberty by giving me mine. I will consent (added she, in a mind extremely incensed against Cyrus) that you shall not deliver me into the hands of any Prince who is your Rival, since I would have you deliver me unto none but the King my Father. Ah Madam (replied he, the better to know her thoughts) can I believe you had rather be carried unto Ecbatan, then to remain in the Camp of Cyrus? Doubt it not, replied she, but believe, that my soul is in such a condition, as I will neither be favourable unto you, or him. How, Madam, replied he, can you cease from loving Cyrus as well as myself? I assure you, said she, I begin to love none in that way you would be loved. I have told you, Sir, a hundred times, that you have an infallible way to get my esteem and friendship, which is, to keep me no longer a Captive: For though in reason, when any one ceaseth from persecuting, it is enough the persecuted party cease from hating, without so much generosity as to forget all past injuries, which the common people of the world are not used to do: But I will now repeat the same I have said a hundred times before, Do but release me, Sir, and I will ever both esteem, and become your friend. I wish to the Gods, replied he, that I were able to be contented with your offer, or that I could persuade you to a little more. As for myself (replied she) it is absolutely impossible, therefore it must be you that must change, since I cannot, that the Wars may cease, which causeth so many miseries, and which in all likelihood will last a long time: at least, I am persuaded Cyrus has no design to end it quickly, since he lets so many out of Sardis. The King of Pontus hearing Mandana speak in this manner, was as joyful as his bad condition could permit, for he perceived her mind was much incensed against Cyrus; and truly he was not mistaken: He was no sooner gone out of her chamber, but Mandana called for Martesia: What do you conceive (said she unto her) of the passages we have seen this day? Could you ever believe that the civilities of Cyrus should transcend his love? However, you see how he carries himself, and can you yet maintain that he is still the same he was unto me? Was ever the like seen? Would Cyrus famish a Town, and yet suffer many people to go out of it? For I do imagine (said this incensed Princess) this is not the first time he hath given Passports, at the request of Araminta. But, Madam (replied Martesia) those you saw go out this day, will not at all alter the Siege of Sardis, nor retard the taking of it. Ah, Martesia, replied Mandana, do not defend the unfaithful Cyrus, since I am confident, he would never have let them come out, but that he had a mind thereby to oblige the Princess Araminta. I confess the coming out of these Ladies do not much impede the taking of this Town by Famine, but I know that it is not the custom of Love, to do things by the rules of Reason; and I assure you, I should have liked it better that Cyrus had uncivilly refused these favours for his love of me, then to have justly granted them unto the Princess Araminta. But whilst this great, and unhappy Princess, took the bare civilities of Cyrus for a crime, he would have given her greater subjects of complaint, had she known how he entertained these stranger's Ladies who came out of Sardis, though in truth she had no reason to accuse him, since what he did was out of his civil and obliging nature, which thought it a piece of injustice to deny a person of Doralisa's merit such a favour as could not prejudice Mandana: Nor did he more than what Mandana herself would have advised him unto, if she had not been prejudicated with an unjust jealousy, which disordered both her spirits and heart. This Prince who never did any thing but in a gallant manner, appointed Andramites to conduct them into his own Tent before he carried them unto Doralisa, and received them with all imaginable respects; and certainly it was hard for any to do otherwise, for they were very handsome, and would have invited civilities from those that had no particular relation to them. Lycaste, though well in years, yet had a remnant of beauty; and though one could not say she was very fair, yet it must needs be confessed she was very handsome: Cydipe her Daughter, though no perfect Beauty, yet she had a great repute of it; and though she had not all those regular lineaments of exact symmetry, yet she passed for a great Beauty. Her air was exceedingly attractive and free; but though she did attract eyes, yet Arpalice did charm them; since certainly never was a more lovely woman looked upon: She was fair and lively; every part of her face was admirable: There was something in her eyes both so glorious and sweet, as had all the charms both in grey and black colours: So that joining an excellent spirit unto a fair body, it might be rightly said, she was one of the most lovely persons in the world. Candiope was not so fair as her two friends, yet very amiable, not only in her great and noble air, but in her quick and insinuating wit, able to make others reveal their secrets, without imparting her own. Parmenides who was with these Ladies, was handsome, and of a comely presence, though she had a kind of surliness in her physiognomy. The rest of the people with them, were only the women of Lycaste, Cydipe, Arpalice, Candiope, and Parmenides, with some men servants. In the mean time Andramites conducting them unto Cyrus, who then had with him Anaxaris, Aglaridas, Ligdamis, Hidaspes, and Feraulas, this Prince entertained them with much civility, ask pardon for shutting up in a Town, and putting them unto the inconveniencies which they had received: But truly, said he, you may accuse the King of Pontus, and the King of Lydia rather than me, since if they would, they might have prevented all by releasing the Princess Mandana. We have so much care to applaud you, Sir, replied Lycaste, that we cannot accuse. I have more reason to thank your honoured Cousin, Madam (replied he) who gave me this opportunity of doing any service unto persons of your quality and merit. And indeed, Madam, I think myself more obliged to you than you think I am: For I am confident that the Lydians seeing these three fair ones which accompany you, would have fought more stoutly in their defence than they will now they are out, at least their Lovers will fight with less fury. I assure you, Sir, replied Arpalice, for my part, all my Conquests shall never hinder yours. I had thought (said Cydipe, and looked upon her Cousin) that you would have answered for Candiope and myself; but since you have not, I assure you, Sir (said she, and turned towards Cyrus) that you have lost more than got by the coming out of Arpalice, and (if I durst say it) by Candiopes and mine; for we did nothing else every day, but accuse the two Kings of Lydia and Pontus of Injustice, for not releasing the Princess Mandana. Doubtless, replied Cyrus, the Lydians are very faithful to that Prince even in unjust things; for if they were not, three such Beauties as you, maintaining so just a cause as mine, would certainly have moved a Sedition in my favour. As Arpalice was ready to answer, Chrisantes brought in a prisoner, whose handsome garb attracted the eyes of all beholders, by the air wherewith he entered into the Tent of this Prince, but as soon as he was entered, it seemed he was not unknown unto these Ladies. Lycaste expressed much wonder at the sight of him; Cydipe seemed much surprised, Parmenides very melancholy, Candiope very glad, and the fair Arpalice blushed deeply, and showed such a sweet disorder in her eyes, that it was easy to see that she had more interest in this prisoner than the rest, who for his part was not a little surprised to find those persons in the Tent of Cyrus, whom he thought to be in Sardis: His respects unto Cyrus kept him from testifying either his wonder or his joy; and let Arpalice know only by some stolen looks, that he was more a prisoner unto her then unto Cyrus. In the mean time this Prince observing the several motions in the countenances of these Ladies, made no question but this man, who Chrisantes brought in, was of their acquaintance, therefore beginning to speak; Since I see, Madam (said he unto Lycaste) that this prisoner is not unknown unto you, and since it seems by his air, that it is just he should not be long in Fetters, will you be pleased to give me leave to inquire before you, where he was taken. Sir (said Chrisantes unto him) I assure you that you never took a Prisoner since the War began, who better deserves his freedom, nor who better deserves to be carefully kept, than this who I bring unto you, since certainly the Lydians cannot have a greater aid, than the person of such a man as he. The commendations you give, replied he modestly, is more glorious to them that overcame me, then to myself: Victory, said Cyrus, is not always an infallible argument of Valour: sometime the vanquished are more gallant men than the vanquishers: But I pray Chrisantes, where met you with this Courageous Enemy? For I find his modesty so great, that there is no ask him: Sir, replied Chrisantes, I cannot tell you what were the motives which moved this valiant man to go into Sardis: but this is truth, that a little before day, he leapt into the ditch at a place which we had raised the last assault, and he hid himself behind a heap of saggots which the enemies had not yet burned: by chance a Sentinel standing at that sconce which you raised last, perceived him, and observed that he looked towards the walls of the Town, and made a sign unto those upon it, that they should open a little Postern door near that place: so that theLydians believing that certainly he had some intelligence ofimportance to bring them; and that perhaps he brought some news of that belief which the great King of Pontus made them long for: they intended to open it unto him, and for his more safe entry, they would make a sally: But the Sentinel who spied him, told me what he spied, before they opened the little door: and I thought it more expedient to take him then to shoot him: Then I caused a hundred men to make ready, and get betwixt him that would enter into Sardis, and the little door which they opened for him; sending at the same time, six of the most resolute soldiers to bring him unto me: but since they could not go unto him without discovery, those upon the walls killed one, and wounded two of them with arrows, so that there was but three who came up to him: and then the Lydians durst not shoot, lest they should as soon hit him that would come into the Town, as those who would take him: and thus this valiant Prisoner was in the midst of three stout soldiers without any other aid but his own valour: all this is nothing, said the Prisoner, since I was taken: But since that would not have been, replied Chrisantes, unless I had sent six more, after you had killed two of the first, I think I cannot sufficiently extol you. Whilst Chrisantes was speaking thus, one might perceive by the eyes of Arpalice, that the applauds which were given this Prisoner did not displease her, and that she gave a most attentive ear unto it: and much more, when Cyrus asked this generous Prisoner what his name was? whether he was the King of Lydia's subject? whether he had employed him upon some negotiation with some neighbour Prince? or whether he brought any news of a pretended relief, wherewith Croesus did flatter the people of Sardis? Sir replied he, my name is Thrasimedes, and the place of my birth is Halicarnassus, so that I am neither the King of Lydia's subject, nor engaged in his interests: why then (said Cyrus) would you choose the more unjust side? and why, since your valour cannot be idle, would you not rather stay in our Army then attempt to get into a besieged Town? Thrasimedes was then at a nonplus, for he had no mind to tell the true cause of his design to get into Sardis. Then he began to make many imperfect answers: but since he saw Cyrus was nothing satisfied with them, he feared that if he did not tell the truth, he should still remain a prisoner of war, and by consequence be separated from that person he loved. Therefore resolving suddenly with himself, Sir, replied he, as I have been a long admirer of your glory, so I would not have you suspect me to have any disposition of becoming your enemy; Therefore I must confess the truth, though perhaps the fair Arpalice before whom I speak, will be angry with me; be pleased to know therefore that my affection unto her, invited me into Sardis, where I know, she was engaged: And therefore Sir, since Love only made me so bold, all the applauds which Chrisantes gave unto me, are due unto the fair Arpalice: And to testify that I speak the truth●, I am so far from desiring to go into Sardis, since Arpalice is not there, that I beg so much favour from you, as to let me fight against the Lydians upon the first occasion which presents itself. Since you are more a Prisoner unto the fair Arpalice (replied Cyrus) then unto m●; It is she that must appoint you wha● is her pleasure. Truly Sir, (replied she in a great confusion at what Thrasimedes had said) I do not think I have any right to dispute with you for this illustrious Prisoner: but though I had, yet I am so much obliged unto you, and I know he so much admires you, that to pay a debt which I owe you, and to please him with command, I enjoin him to serve you, as long as he lives. Truly added Lycaste; Arpalice has good reason for all she says: and truly replied Cyrus, if she be rigorous unto the valiant Thrasimedes, she is the most unjust person in the World. Whilst Cyrus was speaking thus, Parmenides seemed much discontented, yet he durst not openly express it, only the fair Arpalice his Sister knew his thoughts by his silence. But as Cyrus was ready to tell Thrasimedes, that since he was only a Prisoner of love, he was no Prisoner of War, Hermogenes brought another Prisoner, whom he said came from the walls of Sardis into the ditch by the help of a long cord, by that way which looks towards the River, and being seen by some soldiers, they took him without any resistance, telling them he had no other side but to change sides; and that being spied by those who kept Guard upon the walls, when he came down, he was in a thousand dangers of being killed by shots of arrows against him. But the admiration was, that when this Prisoner who seemed to be a man of quality, entered into the Tent, Cyrus observed that he was not unknown neither unto Thrasimedes, nor Lycaste, nor Parmenides, nor Cydipe, nor Candiope, nor Arpalice: His presence, though handsome, was not equally joyful unto them all: for all except Parmenides who was glad to see him, were either angry or melancholy. So that Cyrus having a fresh curiosity to know who he was, and what designs he had, began to ask very pressingly: Insomuch as this Prisoner named Menecrates, who was a lover of Arpalice, and by consequence the Rival of Thrasimedes, and who knew well that Parmenides was a favourer of his design, began to tell Cyrus ingenuously, that he had no other design in coming out of Sardis, but to follow Arpalice whom he loved; but since this beauty had not the like thoughts of him which she had of Thrasimedes, she began to oppose what he said: me thinks (said she unto him very sharply) if the illustrious Cyrus be just, he should not give much credit unto what you say, for truly (said she with a disdaining smile) to come out of a besieged Town where they are ready to die for hunger, is not an argument of any great matter of love: and therefore I do not conceive that your fair tale of love ought to excuse you from being a Prisoner of War: since he declares himself to be yours (replied Cyrus and smiled) it is not just he should have two masters; and therefore I will not dispute with so fair a one as you: Lycaste, hearing Cyrus say so, and seeing that out of his generosity he would release both Thrasimedes and Menecrates, whom she knew would quarrel, Sir (said she unto him to prevent it) your actions speak your great soul: but if I may be suffered to make a request unto you, it should be, that you would be pleased either to keep these two Captives still in your Prison, or else absolutely command them to live friendly together. Since they are none of my Subjects (replied he) I will only entreat them to let me judge of that difference. Sir (said Parmenides then) since the difference which is betwixt Menecrates and Thrasimedes, is of such a nature as it can never be known, unless you know the whole story of their lives: and since their adventures are not heroic enough for the care, it will suffice, if you will be pleased out of your goodness to keep Thrasimedes with you, until Menecrates hath manifested his innocency unto Arpalice, who is the cause of their difference. Since Cyrus observed that Arpalice did favour Thrasimedes more than Menecrates, he told Parmenides that he would keep them both until he had time to hear the cause of their quarrel: That in the mean time; Andramites should conduct Lycaste, Cydipe, Arpalice, and Candiope, unto the Castle where the Princess Araminta was, and where they might conveniently remain, until such time as he could determine the difference that was between two men, whose Enemies qualities obliged him rather to make them friends than Enemies. Thrasimedes having a good opinion of the justness in his cause, did thank Cyrus for the honour he would do him in being his judge: but as for Menecrates, he was not so well satisfied, no more than Parminides. Yet their respects of Cyrus stopped their mouths, especially when they perceived Lycaste render a million of thanks unto Cyrus for preventing a misfortune, by his prudence, which might happen either unto Thrasimedes or Menecrates, or both. After which, the Ladies took their leaves of Cyrus, so satisfied with his civilities, that they could talk of nothing else. Thrasimedes and Menecrates remained rather as men that were guarded then as Prisoners of War: The first of them was committed unto the care of Chrisantes; and the other unto Feraulas. As for Parmenides, he waited upon Lycaste unto the Castle. Ligdamis, had also orders from Cyrus, to guard the Ladies, since it would be a great joy unto him to see his dearest Cleonice. Cyrus' at going out of his Tent, presented his hand unto Lycaste, to conduct her unto her Coach, though she did earnestly refuse it. Andramites presented his hand unto Cydipes; Ligdamis to Arpalice, and Parmenides unto Candiope. Arpalice in passing by these two lovers and Prisoners, showed a different respect unto them: For she saluted Thrasimedes with a very obliging civility, and Menecrates with such cold looks; as were enough to freeze him into despair, especially since the affront was in the presence of Cyrus and his Rival: After Cyrus had put these Ladies into their Coach, he bestowed some compliments upon the two Rivals, and then he called a Council of War. In the mean time, as gallant as Andramites and Ligdamis were, they left the Camp with joy: the first of these, because he was performing an acceptable piece of service unto Doralisa, and the other, because love was predominate in his heart, above all desires of glory: also the Ladies whom they were to guard were so amiable, that the service was very pleasant. All the way, they talked of nothing but Cyrus: At last being come unto the Castle, Andramites carried them strait unto the Princess Doralisa's Chamber, to the end she might present them unto the Princess of Pontus; Andramites giving orders that they should lie in these lodgings where Sesostris did lie. In the mean time, as shy as Doralisa was, and though she was of an humour to do a hundred good offices, rather than to receive one, and never cared for giving over many thanks, yet she could not choose but be much joyed at Andramites, for bringing these persons thither, who were so near and dear unto her: yet her compliment unto him was but short: for though she had an excellent grace of speech, yet she did seldom use any aggravations: and those who knew her heart, counted one of her words for a thousand, and would think her very courteous: so that though she said little, yet Andramites was well contented: and she was so busy in welcoming Lycaste, Cydipe, Arpalice, and Candiope, that she had not leisure to give Andramites many thanks. It being a long time since Lycaste had seen her; and since Cydipe, Arpalice, Candiope, and Doralisa had seen each other since they were Children; they were full of compliments. It was not long before the wit of Doralisa, began to sparkle as well as her eyes, for being in one of her pleasant and charming humours, she did so quibble with Lycaste and all the company, that she was the fullest of witty diversion in the World. But after the Ladies had a little rested and reposed themselves, they made ready to go and see Araminta. And Doralisa knowing that the Princess was to be seen, conducted them to her Chamber: But first, she must present them unto Cleonice and Pherenice, and all the rest of the Lady Prisoners, who in respect of her came to see them, and went with them to the Princess Araminta: But Cleonice having a desire to honour these ladies as cousins unto Doralisa, as new comers and strangers, she would have them go before her: and Ligdamis being obliged to present his hand unto Cydipe being next the door as she passed, and Parmenides had already given his hand unto Cleonice; Doralisa perceiving it, told Cydipe in a low voice, how she thought herself obliged to acquaint her, that she did but ill recompense Ligdamis for the pains he had taken in being her guard, since by separating him from Cleonice, she separated him from her that was most dear unto him. 'Tis true (added she) that I think his design was as much to see as to guard you, therefore you are the less obliged unto him: Doralisa speaking with a design to be heard. Ligdamis complained against her inhumanity in insulting so cruelly over a man who had brought her the most pleasant company in the World, and which should be a cause of much rejoicing in it: I do not know (said she unto him) how you can phrase that inhumanity, which proceeds from my pity of you: This is not the first time (added he still walking) I have observed, that there are some miseries which you have no compassion upon in your rallary; and the unfortunate Andramites knows well that I do not lie; since both of you speak, replied Cydipe, you will make me understand things very well: I assure you (replied Ligdamis) I can never make you perfectly understand Doralisa: perhaps you believe (said she and laughed) you have twitted me sufficiently in telling that I am not easy to be understood; but since I am resolved to treat you very civilly this day, I profess unto you, that I take it for a great commendations: and that I would not be like some men I know, who the very first day one sees them, vent all the stock of wit they have, and show every cranny of their souls. Ligdamis had answered Doralisa, but they were so near Araminta's Chamber, that that discourse must end to salute the Princess, who received all these Ladies with abundance of sweetness; not only out of her natural civility, but also to the more to oblige Doralisa: After the first compliments were passed: she asked them concerning the King her brother, whom they commended very much unto her: afterwards, she asked them, whether they were not extremely weary of a besieged Town? and on the contrary, if they were glad to be out of it? so passing from one question to another, unto which every one in their turns had their vies, Araminta began to extol the beauty of Arpalice, of Cydipe, and of Candiope, and said that it did not seem Sardis was yet put unto any great extremities, since they brought out such fresh complexions: adding that Croesus would never have let them come out, but to drive all the besiegers into despair. Arpalice, Cydipe, and Candiope did all blush at the commendations: Afterwards Andramites began to tell Araminta the admirable effects of Arpalices beauty: relating, how one ventured his life to go into Sardis, because he thought her there; and another ventured his life in coming out, because she was not there: I do not know said Araminta, which of these two men is most lovely, or most loved, but I wish it were rather he that would have gone into Sardis, rather than he who came out: I conceive Madam (replied Parmenides who favoured Menecrates) that it is not always just to judge of things, by some happy events, which are only effects of chance: For truly he who was in the Town had no way left to testify his love, but to come out of it. 'Tis very true, said Araminta; but since he who goes into a half starved Town, ready to be taken, is in greater danger, than he who comes out of it, I must needs wish him better fortune than I do to the other: I assure you Madam, (replied Arpalice and blushed) to speak in reason, I can neither commend the act of him that would go in, nor of him that came out, since according to my apprehension, the one would have headlong run into the danger, and the other would have shunned it. Whilst Araminta was talking with these Ladies, Ligdamis talked low with Cleonice: and Andramites did the like with Doralisa: but since he had to do with one whose wit was above the sphere of most others, when he spoke low unto her, either she answered him not at all, or else very little, or very sharply; therefore he never durst speak above three or four words at once unto her, esteeming himself very happy if she did not answer him in such a sharp tone as was able to turn the sweetest words in the world into wormwood. After the visit of these Ladies had lasted a reasonable time, they went unto their chambers. Andramites and Ligdamis stayed in the Castle until they were ready to go to bed, and then they would return to the Camp in the night, lest they should lose any opportunity of honour, yet they would not depart before they had received the commands of the Princess Araminta, who charged them with a compliment unto Cyrus. After which they had adieu unto all the Ladies; but whilst they were performing their several compliments, Arpalice took Doralisa aside, and after she had pulled down her hood to hide her blush, she desired her to conjure Andramites in private, that he should have a special care that no new dispute should arise between Thrasimedes and Menecrates, telling him, that perhaps when Cyrus was busy about great affairs, they would not be so strictly guarded but some misfortune might fall out between them. Adding, that it would be an unspeakable grief unto her, if either of them should die in any consideration of her. Since it is not so easy a matter as perhaps you think for me to make any request unto Andramites, said Doralisa, do not think I will undertake it, unless you will promise to tell me, what interest you have in these two prisoners: For though Curiosity be not my custom, and though I am ignorant of many things, because I will not ask them, yet I must needs confess, I have such a desire to know the cause of such extraordinary events, that I will consent unto what you ask me, if you will promise what I ask you. I have so much interest in them (replied Arpalice) that I cannot deny you. Since it is so (said Doralisa) I will do as you desire me. And indeed, Doralisa taking Andramites aside, as if she had some business which concerned him to communicate unto him; and though she was of such an humour as did not love to ask any one to do a good office, yet she put a notable difference between making a request for another, and one for herself: And therefore, though with much ado she entrated Andramites to have a care of Thrasimedes and Menecrates until the King had reconciled them, assuring him she would take it for a great obligation; and adding, that he might take her making any request unto him as a mark of that esteem which she had of him; for, said she, there are but four persons in the whole world unto whom I would be obliged, though there be an infinite number that I would oblige; yet if I could preserve myself from being obliged unto any, I should be very glad; but since this is not in my power, and that I must be obliged unto one, I had rather it should be unto you then any other. Though your language, Madam (replied he) cannot be catalogued in the number of favours, which one might hope for from her he adores, yet I will take it to be such a one, since it is the greatest I ever had from you. But as you have done me the honour to assure me, that I am in the number of those three or four persons unto whom you would suffer yourself to be obliged: I beseech you tell me whether I be the first, second, or perhaps the last of that infinite number which you would oblige? I assure you, said she, and laughed, I cannot answer you directly I would; for I have assigned no places in my heart, all those who are there are in a confusion without any order of rank, so that I cannot tell which is first, or second, etc. But Andramites (added she) this is not the business which I desire of you, and therefore unless you would have me repent of my request, and be sorry for giving you an occasion of obliging me; speak not a word more, unless it be to bid me adieu. Give me leave, Madam, said he, only to tell you, that I depart the most— For Heaven's sake Andramites (said she, and interrupted him with a laugh) speak not a word more, unless you be well assured that what you say will not anger me; for since the request I made unto you concerns one of my friends, I should be glad you would not put me to recall that request which I have made unto you, and therefore it is better that I interrupt your speech, and leave you; and indeed Doralisa, making him a serious reverence, as if she had done her business, left him, and went unto Arpalice to tell her that Andramites would do as she desired. All this while Ligdamis was bidding adieu unto his dear Cleonice, with whom he was always upon constant terms of amity. Thus Andramites and he returned to the Camp, and left all these Beauties together, who did not part until Lycaste was forced to tell them, it was full time to retire unto their rest. In the mean time, since it did nearly concern Arpalice, that Cyrus in reconciling Thrasimedes and Menecrates should know that he could not protect the last of these in prejudice of the other, unless he made her most miserable, she consultted with Candiope (who was her dearest friend, and close confident in all her secrets) upon the best expedients. For my part (said Candiope unto her) if the case were mine, considering the credit which Doralisa hath with Cyrus, both by herself, by Araminta, and by Andramites, I would open my heart unto her, and tell her the whole truth. She hath already desired (replied Arpalice) that I should do as you advise me, and I have promised her. Why then do you ask my advice upon a thing (replied Candiope) which is already resolved? Because I have promised more than I can perform (said Arpalice) for though it be a great weakness to be timorous in relation of any thing which is not a crime, yet I must confess I cannot myself tell Doralisa what is requisite she should know, thereby to engage her in my business. Then I must say (replied Candiope, and smiled) that you are very rigorous unto Thrasimedes, if you dare not tell Doralisa that which a whole Province knows: for is there one in Licia which knows not that Thrasimedes is in love with you? No, said Arpalice, but there is none except you, and Thrasimedes, who knows that I love him; and it is but a while since he could guess at it, nor yet knows so well as you do: Therefore you would infinitely oblige me, if you would spare me many a blush, and would take the pains to relate all my imperfections unto Doralisa: You are well acquainted with the original of our affections, and I believe yourself is the greatest cause. But dare you trust yourself unto my discretion? (said Candiope unto her) are you not afraid that my ill memory will make me misreport your words? and perhaps alter some of them, or make you speak too obligingly unto Thrasimedes? As Arpalice was going to answer, Doralisa came into their chamber, who after she had told Arpalice, that she was glad to see by her complexion, and quickness of her eyes that she had slept well, she asked whether or no she remembered her promise? Candiope knowing very well what Doralisa meant, laughed, and told her, that Arpalice was not very well disposed to perform her promise; telling her afterwards all the discourse which was between them: So that there was a very pleasant conference between these three persons: For my part (said Doralisa) after she had heard the difference between them) I cannot think Arpalice ever did, or said, or thought any thing which she may not tell me, and therefore I am persuaded, that it is rather out of vanity than modesty that she will not let me understand her adventures from her own mouth rather than from another's, since it is not possible any should know another's story so well as themselves: But the truth is, one shall not speak of themselves so well as others will do. Most true (said Candiope) Doralisa hath found out a good reason to stop your own mouth; for you would rob yourself of a thousand applauds which I shall give you, and which really you deserve: Yet I cannot phrase your way to be a vanity, but rather a desire of glory, and you desire to get Doralisaes' esteem, therefore desires that she may know you the better by my reports then your own. I pray you tell her what you please, replied Arpalice, so you do not put me to say any thing: And indeed so it was concluded, that Candiope should relate all the adventures of Arpalice. Then Doralisa and Candiope agreed, that as soon as dinner was past, they should carry Lycaste, Cydipe, and Arpalice unto the Princess Araminta, where they would leave them, and return into Doralisaes' chamber: And so they did; for they were no sooner entered, but shutting the door, and Candiope leaning upon a table of Ivory inlaid with Ebony, she began her discourse with a Compliment, thus.  

The History of ARPALICE and THRASIMEDES.  
YOur Reputation, amiable Doralisa, being such as makes it dangerous to speak ill before you, might well silence me from making any long discourse in your presence, if it did not merely concern a person who is most dear unto you, and deserves to be so unto all those that are capable of her extraordinary merit: and her interest being more considerable than my own, I will begin that relation which you expect, as if you had never heard of our Country, of our Town, or of Arpalice herself; for though you be very near in alliance of blood, yet you never were in Licia, but always at Sardis or Susa, never saw each other since you were five years of age, when Lycaste came to Sardis, I conceive it convenient to begin as if you knew her not at all. Be pleased to know therefore, that Arpalice was but seven years of age when she lost both her Father and her Mother, and that Parmenides was not of a fit age to govern himself, therefore a Brother of Lycaste, their Uncle, was their Tutor; who having no Wife, put the young Arpalice unto Lycaste, who hath brought her up with as much care as she did Cydipe. The Father of Arpalice holding an intimate correspondency with a man of Quality named Amphidamas, who was of the same Town, and had but one Son, and one Daughter, he ordained by his last Will and Testament, that Arpalice should marry his Son when she came at age: That which caused the great riches of Arpalice (though she had a Brother) was that they were not both by one Mother: And since it is the custom of our Country, that Mothers give ranks unto Families, and not the Fathers; and the Mother of Arpalice being exceeding rich, declared by her testament, that she should marry Menecrates: adding, that her intention was, that he should have the greatest part of her estate, if her daughter would not marry him. It may very well be said, that Arpalice was never Mistress of herself, since she was engaged before she had either reason or discretion. Menecrates was then four years of age, and Arpalice seven, when every one said unto them, that they were destined to live together, and that they were so fast, nothing could ever part them; but before I acquaint you how they lived together, I must tell you, what the manner of living is, in our Town. All the world knows, that Licia in general is a mountainous Country, very craggy and uneven; and very barren in many places; therefore you may imagine, perhaps, that those who inhabit there, will smell of the rudeness of their Country: But there being some land in Licia exceedingly fertile, it may be said, there are as gallant complete men there as any is in the world: Also the Metropolis of our Country which is called Patara is one of the most famous Towns in all Asia, not only for its beauty, but also for the magnificent Temple of Apollo, whose Oracle is so famous, and many Strangers resort thither to consult with it: Also many come out of curiosity to see that famed mountain of Chimaera: This Mountain, I say, whom the renowned Bellerophon rendered famous, whose top is full of Lions, middle of wild Goats, and bottom Serpents; so that many Strangers resorting unto Patara, it is most pleasant living there. Moreover, though the Government of our Country be in the manner of a Republic, yet a King of a Court may be seen there as well as in a Monarchical state: For there is a Precedent of the Council, whose authority is so great, that he wants only the name of being Sovereign of all Licia: So that all the Offices of State being in his dispose, he is as much courted, and as much honour done him, as if he were absolute King: So that their way of living is much more pleasant then in other Republics, where every one is divided into several Factions; and the contrary, the authority of one man attracting together all the complete Gallants of a State into one Town, and after into one house; this questionless makes society most agreeable, and spirits more polite, it being the source of all delights, and gallantry. And I can assure you, we had the advantage to live in a time when there were more complete men in Licia, then of three ages before. This is the place, fair Doralisa where Arpalice was educated, and lived all her time: I shall not need to tell you what she now is; for it is apparent she is one of the greatest Beauties in the world: You may see she has been ever fair, not like one of those beauties, who make people believe they use enchantments, and who after they have been ugly in their infancy, become fair in six months; yet Arpalice did not only promise beauty in her most tender years, but abundance of spirit; a spirit so gallant, so high, so noble, so passionate for liberty, and such an enemy to all subjection and constraint, that I have heard say a hundred times, a pleasure commanded did lose the pleasure of it: You may imagine therefore, that nothing could fall out more opposite to her humour then to be engaged at seven years of age, to marry Menecrates: not but that he was exceedingly handsome; but though he had been the handsomest man upon earth, yet he would never have got the heart of Arpalice, out of his reason also, that she did not choose him; and truly, I think another thing did much disunion the spirits of these two persons, which was, that Menecrates was of an imperious nature, and an enemy to any thing that crossed his inclination; so that it may be said, that Arpalice loved liberty, and Menecrates loved licentiousness. But to return unto the beginning of their lives: be pleased to know, that Lycaste and her brother who were the Tutors of Arpalice and Parmenides, did think themselves obliged to see the last will of Arpalices Father and mother executed: so that they used all their endeavours to incline the heart of this young Lady to love Menecrates: on the other side, the friends of this pretended lover did so expressly command him to court his young mistress, that being not at an age to disobey them, he was continually with her: at least, at such times when he was not busied with his Tutors, who taught him such things as one of his quality ought to learn: and they saw one another so oft, that it may be said, they saw one another too often to love. The three first years both of them being very young, it was not observed, that there was any strong aversion in the heart of Arpalice towards Menecrates: nor any great affection in the heart of Menecrates▪ towards Arpalice: But always doing as their Parents bade them; Menecrates send a thousand pretty knacks for tokens unto Arpalice which she received very civilly more for the love of the things, than the sender: if they danced or walked, it was always together; and they never enjoyed any pleasures asunder: yet this lasted not long: for Menecrates being seven years elder than Arpalice, when he was eighteen, & she but eleven: so that having lost his Father, he began to live after some mode, and to use her like a child, & entered into the world with all the liberty of a young man of an impetuous spirit: Yet his design was to marry Arpalice, & to keep her in hand with some trivial tokens, but in such a negligent manner, that as young as she was, she took notice of it, and slighted him. However be pleased to know, that Menecrates having no mind to lose Arpalices estate, contracted an intimate friendship with Parmenides, for he concurring in age, he loved the brother better than the sister: Also there was a sympathy of humours between them: but though he had screwed himself into his affection, yet he did not neglect Arpalice. Thus did he swim in all delights and pleasures, and believed himself, as some fort of men use to do, who though they be married, yet make a profession of Courtship and Gallantry. When he was in any of his Gallantries, either he would not come before Arpalices window; or if he did, it was so late, that she should not see him: if she were at any meeting, he took her out to dance not above once, or twice at the most, and then would leave her to go and talk with some other whom his heart more liked: All the advises of his mother and friends were in vain, when they told him that Apalice had more wit than years: that he did ill to use her so; that he would move her unto an aversion; which indeed he did, for all his care was to please himself, telling all those who spoke unto him, that he would let Arpalices beauty grow a little, before he would apply all his Courtships and respects unto her: things being upon these terms, and Arpalice being some twelve or thirteen years of age, he designed to travel with Parmenides, and not to return until three years were expired: So that during his absence, the beauty of Arpalice grew to be (as now you see it) a very miracle, and was an admiration to all Lycia: Cydipe was also very fair; and the sister of Menecrates called Cleoxine, who was much about the age of Arpalice, was also very lovely; so that it might very truly be said, these three were the greatest ornaments of our Town: and since I saw them every day, it was easy for me to get their friendship: and truly of all the three, Arpalice did most take my heart: and such a knot of friendship was tied between us, as nothing can dissolve: In the mean time; though Arpalice was a wonder of beauty, yet none durst engage themselves to serve her: she charmed the eyes of all that looked upon her, and every one defended themselves against the enchantment of her beauty: the commendations which every one gave her, was to shun her with all care, lest she should exact more love and adoration than hopes: every one lamented that it was not permittable to serve her openly; and vented a hundred things which confirmed her, in her love of liberty. Yet custom, reason and modesty willing her to follow her own humour, she concealed her resentments as much as she could: Yet in the secret of her heart she had an extreme unwillingness to be forced unto the most important action of her life which ought to be most free: she knew very well, that she made all those despair that thought upon her in love: and she knew also, that the reason why she denied all, was because she was promised unto Menecrates: Moreover, she perceived that all the friends of Menecrates, kept observant eyes upon her. So that she lived in such a constraint, as a Lady of quality called Zenocrite, who had a pleasant wit in Rallary, termed her the fair slave; and this name was so much used amongst us, as we called her by it as much as by her own name: for she being of a sweet pleasing spirit, she would not be angry at any Rallary, and the truth was Zenocrite was such a person as might say what she would without any exception: and truly there was more Gallants frequented this Lady's house whom I last named, than any other in the Town. Zenocrite is fair, of a good person, her Physognomie subtle, though she had a kind of languishing air: she spoke things as if she never thought them: yet spoke them more sprightly than those that did think them: she had an admirable fancy, and would turn things most pleasantly: she would sometimes tell a story in most elegant terms; and would sometimes be satirical in four words: yet was she of a good and generous nature: and if she spoke in the disadvantage of any one, it was more out of an excess; of reason and sincerity, and out of an impetuosity of wit and fancy (which she could not hold in) then out of malice. The rarest of her qualities was, that the sadness of her spirit did often time cause joy in others: For where she lamented the miseries of the time, or of ill government, she did it in such a pleasant manner, that she did more delight company by her complaints and murmurs, than others could do in their most frolic humours: she had all the news, which she did always polish in the relation; not that she changed it, but, that in her Comment upon it, she was most agreeable company. Moreover, there being always abundance of company at her house: Liberty was always free, those that would be sad might be so, those that would be frolic might be so, those that had no mind to speak might be silent; so that every one might find there a satisfaction for his humour: to conclude my description of her, Zenocrite was a person every way extraordinary; you may conceive then, that Arpalice having so fine a spirit, and living in the Neighbourhood, did see her very oft, and this privilege she had, that Zenocrite spoke of her, as a person whom she esteemed very much; and I think that I may truly say the conversation which Arpalice had with her, did not a little confirm her love of liberty: and when she did aggravate the injustice of those who do absolutely dispose of the wills of others, not knowing whether it be suitable to their minds or no, it must be confessed she spoke reason; and truly it is very strange, to see fathers oblige the Children to marry, not knowing whether they love or hate; whether their humours be suitable or opposite: and if they can but pass away an afternoon without weariness, no matter for all their lives after. Since all that Zenocrite said seriously, observed and exactly related, the friends of Menecrates did all they could to hinder Arpalice from seeing her so often; but Arpalice had always been well used there, say what they would, she would not be kept from thence: telling them, that since Zenocrite was a woman of no less virtue than wit, she knew not why she should not see her: the thing which most nettled them was, that in seeing Zenocrite, Arpalice saw all the Gallants in Lycia: yet since they were forced to be patient, and to set some spies to observe whether any one Courted Arpalice, mangre her engagement: but all their observant pains were in vain, for since, Menecrates was a man of high quality, and since it was known that Parmenides desired this marriage should go forward, notwithstanding all Arpalices charms, and what inclinations soever they had to her, all those who fell in love with her, did stifle their passions, and would not regularly apply themselves to serve her: Thus every one did commend her and esteem her, but none durst love her: I leave it unto your imagination, how perplexed she was to see, that if she were free, she might choose as she would; and yet she saw she was forced to marry Menecrates whom she could not endure: how oft has she made her complaints unto me? and how oft has she wished, that she were poor so she were free? This being the posture of things, the friends of Menecrates receiving continual letters from him, intended to send him Arpalices Picture, that he might see how she was improved, hoping to make him the sooner return: They addressed themselves unto him who had the disposition of her, to get Picture taken, and commanded it with such peremptory authority, that obey she must. Yet she deferred it as long as possible, and there was no pretence which she did not make use of, to excuse herself: one day she had an ill dress on, another day she had not slept well in the night, and therefore did not look pleasant enough to have her Picture taken: another time, she had promised a visit, but at last, after all these delays and excuses she must obey. For my part, I have wondered a hundred times how they could take her Picture with any resemblance, considering the fretting melancholy that was in her aspect, and the impatience she did fit in; for she changed her countenance continually, according to the variety of thoughts in her mind: she did almost never sit still, but was alwales restless and ready to rise; and truly if the Artificer had not been a man of an admirable fancy, and the most excellent man in his art that was in the World, he could never have done what he did; for notwithstanding all the restless impatience of Arpalice he took her Picture marvellous like her. As much incensed as she was against Menecrates; for all her spite against the Picture drawer, yet she was very glad to see it, when it was finished; for in what humour soever one is in, you know, one would not wish long to appear ill favoured. So that Arpalice cheering up herself by little and little, consented that they should send her Picture unto Menecrates: and since it was in a very little model, it was put into a very fine Case, and sent unto him, yet Arpalice would not have it sent as from her, nor that they should send him word, she consented unto it. But I beseech you admire a little at the wonderful juncture of things; when Menecrates received this Picture, he was at Apamea, where was also a Halicarnasian man of quality, named Thrasimedes, who had no other designs in his being there but as a Traveller. And as you know, the Phrygian Music is most admirable, there was a place in that Town where at certain days was kept a consort of voices and Instruments, unto which all the Gallants resorted, when they had leisure: some only, because they loved Music, and others out of love to company, which was infallibly to be found there. So that Menecrates, Parmenides, and Thrasim●des, all three men of much spirit, and curiosity, failed not to be there: And as we commonly see, those who are strangers in any Town, though they be not of the same Country, yet have a disposition to converse together with those of the same Province they are of; So, it chanced that Thrasimedes sought occasions of talking with Parmenides, and with Menecrates, and finding them both to be men of much spirit, he accustomed himself to talk ofter with them then any others; and since in such places as that, it is not usual to talk of very serious or important matters, they began to discourse of the difference which is in the beauty of women, according to the several places where they are borne: So that passing iusensibly from one thing unto another, they asked each other reciprocally, if there were any excellent beauties in the places where they were born? And since Menecrates was the first which asked the question, Thrasimedes answered him, that there were many very lovely ones in his Country; but, said he, for all that, I am most unhappy, for the truth is, that at this present, there is hardly an excellent beauty in all the Halicurnassus, though some ten or twelve years since, there were a thousand most rare ones: and it may be said, that the stars in our Court are set, and shine not: It is not so in our Town, replied Parmenides, for there are an infinite number of rising stars and growing beauties. And to let you see one of them, said Menecrates, look upon the Picture of one of our fair ones. In saying so, he showed him Arpalices, which he received that morning. Thrasimedes, no sooner saw it, but he confessed, he never saw any so fair, ask often, whether it was not one of those Pictures which more show the excellency of the Artist than the real resemblance of any one: whilst Thrasimedes said so, Parmenides was called away, by some that would speak with him; so that staying still with Menecrates, he began more and more to admire the beauty of this Picture, and asked him, whether it was the Picture of any with whom he was in love, or of some of his kindred? for I suppose, said he, it must be one of those two; It is neither of the one nor the other, replied Menecrates, for I assure you, that Arpalice whose Picture you see is not my Cousin, nor am I in love with her: Is it possible (said Thrasimedes) you should know this person and not love her? Doubtless I can, replied he, and very easily. 'Tis true, when I came from the place where she is, she was not so fair then, as now, and they write unto me that she is more charming than her Picture. Whilst Menecrates was talking thus, Thrasimedes looked still upon the Picture with much admiration; but at last, he restored it unto him again, and talked of other things. At their going out from thence, they went unto one of those houses where gaming is used, and which is open to all comers, for Phrygia being near neighbour unto Lydia, and as you know the Lydians are the inventors of most games of chance, so play is used as much at Apamea, as at Sardis. Menecrates and Thrasimedes, coming into this house, (where Parmenides was not) Menecrates presently began to play, but with such ill luck, that he lost all he had about him, except the Picture of Arpalice, whose Case was of Gold with a circle of Diamonds. So that having no money to play, and being desperate; he offered those he played against, to play the Case of the Picture, but Thrasimedes not giving them time to answer, told Menecrates, that if he were resolved to play that Case, he desired it might be with him, and upon condition, that the Picture might be in it, he would stake the double value to what it cost. Menecrates did pause upon it a little, but his hot desire of play, and greediness to win back some part of what he had lost, being prevalent with him, he accepted of Thrasimedes his offer, yet desired no more for a stake then the just value of the thing: he was the sooner induced unto this resolution, because he thought Arpalice could never come to know how he played her Picture, & as for Parmenides, he did not fear that he would be angry, for there was such a strong link of friendship between them, that nothing could break it: But to be short, Menecrates lost the Case, Picture & all; and Thrasimedes won it, yet offered afterwards to lend him money to play, but h 〈…〉 fretting at the unkindness of fortune, he went home as melancholy at his loss as Thrasimedes was merry at the winning it; yet Menecrates did fret more at his ill fortune in general, then at the loss of Arpalices Picture in particular; for having a greater love to play, then to her, he was more sensible of the one than the other. Also knowing, that in all likelihood the substance of that Picture which he had lost, would infallibly be his, he did no 〈…〉 resent the loss: As for Thrasimedes, he was not of that mind, for he was better pleased in winning this Case and Picture, then if he had won a much more considerable value in money: So that fearing Menecrates would engage him to play it again if he saw him, he 〈…〉 shunned meeting with him, which he might easily do; for having but two days to stay i 〈…〉 Apamea, he would not appear in his sight, yet he went to bid him adien, and Parmenide 〈…〉 also, but as chance was he met with neither of them, and so he took his journey without seeing them, I shall not be so tedious as to tell you unto what Town he went; since it is not pertinent to my story; but give me leave to tell you, that in all places he came at, he carefully observed whether he could see any woman so fair as that Picture: But whether really he met with none who had so much beauty, or whether he found none that pleased him so well as that of Arpalice, certainly he gave her the pre-eminence in his heart. After than he had wandered through divers places in Lower Asia, as he was ready to return unto Halicarnassus, he began to chide himself for being of that humour, who had rather see things which are less rare, because they are farther off, than things of more worthy observation, because they are at home: And that Caria, and Licia do join, yet he never had been at Patara, though men from all corners of Asia come thither to consult with the Oracle of Apollo; and many also come into Licia to see the Mountain of Chimaera: Thrasimedes therefore resolved to see our Country; and he added unto his general curiosity of seeing all the R 〈…〉 ties of our Town, his particular desire of seeing Arpalice. Then took he his way unto Patara, where he arrived in the most pleasant season of all the year: But before I relate how he lived, it is convenient I tell you his admirable adventure which happened unto him, the first day he came unto the Town. Know then, that Thrasimedes remembering he knew a man whom he had seen in Hallicarnassus, sent to inquire whether he was in the Town before he entered himself, to know whether he might lodge at his house according to the Laws of Hospitality, which all Nations do reverence. He sent therefore a servant unto his acquaintance, with a Letter importing this request: He was some fifteen Furlongs from the place when he sent this servant; and it was in such a very delightful place, that he resolved to stay there with another servant who walked his horse, until the other returned; for it is not the custom of Travellers for to go with any great Train: Since it was not late, he thought he had time enough to stay for a return of him he sent unto the Town, and since it was in a wondrous pleasant place, he was the more invited to stay: For imagine a little Valley, surrounded with Hills, intermingled with Rocks, at the bottom of which ran a little Brook that crossed the valley, on the banks of which grew abundance of wild Willows, which made a most pleasant shade. As an addition of delight unto the prospect of this place, there was a neat house, built upon one of those Hills, and as one walked unto it by the side of the River one might see between the point of two Rocks (which seemed purposely for that to separate) the Town of Patara a far off: This was the place, amiable Doralisa, where Thrasimedes stayed waiting for his servant: At first when he lighted from horse, which he gave unto his other servant to hold, he began to walk along the River side in this pleasant shadow of Willows, and walked so long forward, that his servant lost the sight of him; yet since he commanded him to stay in that place, and knew he would return, because the way which Thrasimedes walked was quite contrary to the way towards the Town, his being out of sight never troubled him. In the mean time after Thrasimedes had walked himself weary, he sat down at the root of a tree, where he fell into a deep contemplation, and musing upon past adventures; but his musing being none of those kinds that are caused by the running of Rivers, or the ruffling of leaves, when the wind blows them, or which comes upon one without any cause, it is requisite you know, that he had been in love in his own country, and traveled only to cure himself of that passion which he had unto one who betrayed him, and who indeed had more lightness than beauty. In the mean time anger and absence had cooled his passion, which to say truly he could never call love; yet in all his Travels he could not meet with one Beauty which he preferred before this of his perfidious Mistress, except this of Arpalice: So that conceiving the sight of this Picture was a remedy wherewith to drive out of his imagination the Idea of that person whom he would forget, he continually carried it about him ever since he won it; and being in this pleasant solitary place, he drew this Picture out of his pocket, and began seriously to contemplate upon it. He lay almost all along, his head leaning upon a little tuft of grass which grew at the foot of a Willow, holding in his hand the Picture of Arpalice; but after he was well composed in his own thoughts, and agreed that the person whom he would not love was not so fair as that Picture, his musing did grow more confused, and he thought upon just nothing, no not so much as upon the Picture which he held in his hand: So that it being very hot, and he being up betimes, the murmuring of the brook, the ruffling of the leaves, the singing of the Birds being all inviters unto sleep, especially a man who had neither any great joy or sorrow in his soul, Thrasimedes fell asleep: The Case which he held in his hand falling out of it: Whilst Thrasimedes slept thus, you must know, that Lycaste, Cydipe, Arpalice, and myself, with many others were come out to walk unto this pretty neat house, which I told you was built upon one of those hills which compassed about the valley where Thrasimedes slept: For since it belonged unto Zenocrite, we frequented it as if it were our own. In the mean time be pleased to know, that there was a great League between Arpalice and myself, and therefore we never took delight in our walks, unless we talked together in private, so that we always took some occasion or other to separate from the rest of the company, and impart our thoughts freely unto each other. It chanced that day, that having something or other to tell Arpalice, I entreated her that we might talk together; so upon the first opportunity we parted from the company, and went out at the back Garden door, where there was a good path unto the River's side: And after we had walked a little way, Arpalice stopping suddenly, beckoned unto me to hold my peace, and showed unto me amongst the Trees, Thrasimedes asleep, as I told you before: At first Arpalice seeing by his habit, that he was a man of some quality, her design was for us to turn back, being unwilling to be seen in such a solitary place with so little company: But since I saw we were not far from our retreat, I was bolder than Arpalice, for I would needs look upon Thrasimedes a little nearer, wondering to see such a man sleeping in such a place, not seeing any horse or servant which he had. I went then some steps nearer him, whether Arpalice would or no, and taking her by the gown forced her to follow: But she and I had no sooner passed by two ranks of trees, than we espied the Case of the Picture which fell out of Thrasimedes his hand, as I told you before: We no sooner saw it, but a fresh curiosity raised our spirits, though we did not yet know it to be the same which was sent unto Menecrates, for the grass did half hide it. But the wonder was, that Arpalice, who till then was the most timorous, did now grow the bolder of the two, and being prompted by a strong curiosity, after she had looked about whether or no any came, and after she had observed the Stranger slept sound, she went to take up the Case; she was so taken with observing the face of him which slept, as she took up the Case, hardly so much as looking upon it; but retiring back with the same wariness wherewith she approached, we went to look upon the Picture which we suspected to be in the Case, yet with intentions to put it into the same place where Arpalice found it; for you may imagine that we had no design of playing the Thiefs: And indeed I had taken out of my pocket a little Inkhorn and paper, intending to write some conceit within it, to the end that this sleeping man whom we thought to be a Lover, might see the Picture of his Mistress was taken from him, and that he might read a reprehension for his negligence. You know, sweet Doralisa, how pleasant such adventures as these are to people of our age, and therefore Arpalice and myself were exceedingly delighted with this conceit: But when Arpalice and I were behind the Willows, and looked upon this Case, we were extremely surprised to see it was the same which was sent unto Menecrates, or at least extraordinary like it; yet it was such a far fetched conceit to think it was the same, that we did give our own eyes the lie, and did not open it with any thought to find Arpalices Picture. You may well imagine how we were astonished, when we saw it to be the very same which was sent unto Menecrates. However since we were over near the Stranger to reason upon this adventure without danger of waking him, we went farther off, still looking behind us to see whether the man did not rise up and follow us. But at last, being got unto the foot of the Hill, we asked each other how it was possible the Picture should come into his hands? For my part (said I unto Arpalice, and smiled when she asked me the question) If I credit my own eyes, I cannot doubt but that it is the same which was sent Menecrates, and in reason I have some cause of suspicion, that there is some secret piece of gallantry betwixt you and this Stranger, which you conceal from me. This thought is so injurious (replied she) that I cannot believe you speak it seriously. Truly (said I, and laughed) I cannot tell whether I should be in jest or earnest; for how do you think I should give a just judgement upon a thing so full of admiration? the thing which most perplexes me, replied she, is, that I know not how to be satisfied of this adventure: there is no way, replied I, but to waken him; oh Candiope, answered Arpalice, I am far from your opinion: for I am just now in such a fear that he should wake, that for all my great desire to see what he will do when he finds that he hath lost my Picture, as I am resolved to retain: And since I believe he will grieve more for the loss of the Case, than the Picture, I will send the Case unto him by a servant, after I have taken out the Picture: therefore I entreat your assistance in finding out such a one, as I may trust with it. For my part, I do confess, I had a good mind to have some discourse with him. But as we were in contest about it, one of our women, who had been looking us all out, came to tell us, that the Coach●s, were ready, that Lycaste stayed for us: so that all our business was, to find out some fit officer, to watch this stranger, and to follow him unto his loding. Yet we could meet with none but a Gardener, whom we instructed as well as we could; and obliged him by promises to do as we desire. The truth is, he seemed so dull, that we had little hopes in his negotiation, nor durst we trust him with the Case to give unto this stranger: Yet he promised us, to come the next morning, and give us intelligence: and truly we had not much time to instruct him, for no less than four messengers came for us, in less than a quarter of an hour; when we came unto the rest of the company, they chid us for leaving them so long: Lycaste told us in half earnest half jest, that persons of our age could not have any such long secret conferences, but they must stand in need of some favourable construction: For my part, said Arpalice (who could not endure constraint) if any should offer to take from me the liberty of my silence, I think I should talk continually: And on the other side, if I should be commanded to talk always, I would be dumb as long as I lived; And truly (said she and smiled to colour her design of talking with me) I have such a longing desire to talk unto Candiope in a low voice, that I do not think I can forbear: after this, she came and whispered something in my ear. At first, they thought much we should whisper thus, and were continually interrupting us; but at last, they let us alone: and we talked as much as we would, not only in the Coach, but also in that Garden which we went to see: Then did we rack our imaginations to guess, which way possibly this stranger could come by this Picture; but all our thoughts could not hit upon the truth. We could not suspect that Menecrates gave it unto him: nor could we think the man stole it considering his habit and handsomeness, to imagine that Menecrates had lost it at▪ play, was a far fetched thought: The best that we could imagine was, that he had lost it, and they found it. But at last, we returned home to the Town, where we were no sooner come, but we were informed that the husband of Lycaste named Menophiles, was returned from his journey of eight days, which he had taken, & that he had brought home with him a stranger, who seemed to be a man of quality, but so much wounded, that the Surgeons came to dress him. Lycaste no sooner heard this, but out of a curiosity and compassion together she went immediately unto the Chamber where her husband was with this stranger: Arpalice and I, moved with the same curiosity, followed her; but Cydipe would not, because she was apt to sound if she were in the room with a wounded man. As soon as we stepped into the Chamber, Menophiles beckoned that we should make no noise; and to prevent it he came unto us into the outer room, where he no sooner was, but Lycaste asked him very earnestly who this was of whom he had such care? It is, said he unto her, the most valiant man in the world, and the handsomest. It is a man whose life I would save, and who hath saved my life. But after this, ask me no further, for I neither know his name nor his Country; but where did you meet with him? said Lycaste, I met with him, said he, by the Brook side which runs under the Hill upon which Zenocrites house is built, where I met a servant holding his horse, and passing on, I came unto that place in the valley, where there is a little path which leads unto Zenocrites Garden. You may well imagine, dear Doralisa, that Arpalice and I were very attentive unto this relation of Menophiles: which he continued, being come unto the place, said he, I saw him whom I speak of with his sword in his hand, against four soldiers, defending himself, and fight like a lion. And though I had sent all my men another way, but only one Lackey, yet I would needs relieve him: when they who were upon him saw me with a sword in my hand, they divided themselves, two to undertake him, and two upon me: they no sooner turned towards me but my Lackey ran away, so that I was engaged with these two, who at first killed my horse: after this, they wished me not to meddle in a quarrel which did not concern me; and seemed to have no other design upon me, but to keep me from stopping their intentions of killing this man; but one of them turning about, and seeing one of their fellows which was upon this stranger fall, fell upon me with all fury: I defended myself as well as I could, but certainly I had been killed, if this stranger had not come into my relief as soon as he had killed the other who fought with him. So that the two who were upon me, seeing their fellows both dead, and observing that Zenocrites Garden door opened, they had recourse unto their heels: This 〈…〉 nger and I pursued them, but in vain. In the mean time this valiant man was much wounded in the Combat against two, and lost blood by following them who fled: then turning back to thank me for what I had done, he fell dead at my feet: in the mean time, Zenocrites Garden door opening as I said, and the Gardener seeing the passage, called all that were in the house to assist, and so I got this illustrious wounded man unto the place where now he is, intending to proportion my care of him according to his merit. After Menophiles had ended his relation of the passage, Lycaste asked him a hundred questions, which Arpalice and I never minded: for we made no question but this man whom Menophiles spoke of, was the same we saw sleeping: So that we were both of us full of wonder, but not long, for understanding that this stranger enquired whether any one found a Picture about the two soldiers which he had killed, Lycaste went into the Chamber, and we followed, perceiving him plainly to be the same we saw sleeping; yet he did not know Arpalice: for his weakness would hardly give him leave to open the curtain, and Arpalice did more than half hide herself, behind Lycaste and me; so that she knew him, but he could not know her to be the same person, whose Picture he had lost. Yet as weak as he was, he returned a very sprightly compliment unto Lycaste, when she told him, he was in a place where he might freely command any thing in it: but since the Surgeons would not have any to talk unto him, this conference lasted not long: but Arpalice and I did not so soon as give over our discourse upon this surprising adventure, but we resolved not to speak a word concerning this Picture, until we were further informed of all circumstances; but since I know you desire to know the cause of this combat, I will tell you what we heard the next morning. Chance would have it, that four Soldiers passing by Thrasimedes as he was asleep, he walked just as they were within four or five paces of him; and just as two of them looked upon him and laughed: whether it was at something which concerned not him, or whether it was at his so starting out of sleep, it is not known. But Thrasimedes walking, seeking for his Picture, and not finding it, did think these soldiers who looked upon him and laughed, had taken it: but to move them unto a restitution, he showed no signs of anger, and calling to them, friends, said he unto them, it seems you deserve to be listed among the Lacedaemonian Soldiers, therefore I desire you to restore, what you have taken from me, and in recompense I shall with much willingness give you the full worth of it: The Soldiers wondering to hear Thrasimedes to say so, thought that he was not well waked, began uncivilly to laugh aloud, and to tell him in an insolent jeer, that they were very sorry he had not a better dream. In short, Thrasimedes being fully persuaded that these Soldiers had the Picture which he had lost, said something which let them know his thought, unto which they re●orted so extravagantly, as Thrasimedes in his anger could not forbear Menaces: In so much as all four at once, assaulted him, either with intentions to make him fly or to kill him. But the oddness of the business, was to see how he still affirmed that these Soldiers had the Picture; when he related his adventure unto Menophiles and Lycaste, aggravating the misfortune that he should kill two of them and yet not find it: but knowing that those two which fled, had it between them. In the mean time, the servant of Thrasimedes being returned unto the place where he left his master, to tell him that his friend was ravished with joy that he would lodge with him, he found the servant which walked his horse, who told him that Thrasimedes commanded him to stay there, and that he was gone to walk along the Brook side. Then both the servants followed the Brook; but they found only the bodies of these two soldiers which were dead, and not yet taken away: Then were they much troubled; In the mean time, since it was very late, and they hearing no tidings of their Master, one servant went unto Zenocrites house, where the Gardener telling them what he knew, told them also that it was in vain for them to think of getting into the Town, that day, because the Gates would certainly be shut before they could get thither. The next morning the Gardener according to his words came unto us, and brought with him the two servants of Thrasimedes, to let us understand the name and quality of their Master, which being known, all cares to assist him were doubled. However this being not enough to satisfy the curiosity of Arpalice, she caused one of her women who had wit enough, to ask the servant whether the Picture which his Master had lost, was the Picture of any of his own Country with whom he was in love, thinking thereby to pump the truth out of him: and indeed the servant without any subtlety, told her how his master had won it at play in Apamea, but told her not who lost it, or whose it was, since he never saw the Case opened in which it ●●s. I leave you to think, amiable Doralisa, how vexed Arpalice was when she he heard Menecrates set such a small esteem upon her Picture. I assure you (said she unto me the first time she heard it) Menecrates in losing my Picture hath lost more than he is aware of; for after this affront, that poor pittance of complacency which I observed towards him, shall lessen. I pray consider a little, how do you think he would use me if I were married, since he is careless before he is my husband? As violent as Arpalice was, and angry, truly I could not condemn her; yet she was much perplexed, and would not have it known how she had been the innocent cause of this misfortune; yet she had an earnest desire that all the world might know what new cause of hatred she had of Menecrates. However, we did not think it fit to make it known, that we took this Picture which had caused so sad an accident; only to give it out that we knew that Menecrates had lost it at play, and however to have patience for a while. In the mean while Thrasimedes recovered, and the Physicians and Surgeons all reported him to be past all danger, so that he began to inquire who it was unto whom he was so much obliged; but since the names of Menophiles and Lycaste did not acquaint him that Arpalice was in the same house, he could not know she was there: But be pleased to know, that Arpalice being alone with her Aunt, she was obliged to follow her into the chamber of Thrasimedes, and it chanced also that Menophiles who went in the first, having something to tell Lycaste in private, he took her towards the window, and left Arpalice alone by the bed side of this illustrious wounded man. Imagine, I beseech you, how infinitely was he surprised, when the person whom he saw was the substance of that Picture which he had both won and lost; yet was he a while in doubt, because he found her fairer than her Picture; but being confirmed in his opinion by the extremely resemblance which he found in every part of Arpalices face, unto her Picture, he was even ravished with joy at the encounter: Arpalice carefully observing him, did easily perceive the surprise, and joy of Thrasimedes, but since he was not yet in a fit condition for any long conversation, their visit continued not above a quarter of an hour: But whilst it lasted, he desired Lycaste, as he had done Menophiles before, that he might be carried unto a friend's house which he had in Pata 〈…〉 but since she knew Menophiles would not suffer him to go out of his house until he was perfectly well, she spoke unto him with all possible civility, and so retired. She was no sooner gone, but he who Thrasimedes knew in the Town, came to see him: So that he being extremely desirous to be better informed concerning Arpalice, whose Beauty struck him with so much admiration, he understood her to be the Niece of Menophiles and Lycaste; that she was promised unto Menecrates, and that she was Sister unto Parmenides: So that by this he came to know that Arpalice was to marry a man whom she affected not, and one who did not much care for her; for since he had got her Picture so easily from her, and heard it from his own mouth, that he was not in love, he could not doubt it. But how is it possible (said he unto himself) that one so fair as she should marry, and not be loved? For without all doubt she is able to create love in all that have souls. Really (said he unto his friend) the fate of Arpalice seems to be worthy of much compassion: For though Menecrates be handsome, and hath spirit enough, yet since he cannot love her, he cannot be worthy of her. However, replied his friend, it is not an easy matter to alter her fate; for if she refuse to marry Menecrates she will lose the greatest part of her estate. She had better lose it all, replied Thrasimedes, then lose her liberty▪ But if Arpalice be wise (said his friend) she will not refuse him; for as fair as she is, she will find but few lovers when her estate is gone. All men, replied Thrasimedes, are not so covetously minded as you think them; and if I should fall in love with Arpalice, I should make you alter your opinion. In the mean time, we had no sooner acquainted Zenocrite how Menecrates had lost Arpalices Picture, but she set it all over the Town in such a pleasant manner, so full of anger and wit, that nothing else was talked on for eight days together. Also she would receive it from Thrasimedes own mouth, and in order to that she would visit him as soon as he was in a condition to be seen; and coming to visit Lycaste, as she was in the chamber of Thrasimedes, she would let none go in to acquaint her, but went strait herself: As soon as she was entered, she sent to desire Cydipe, Arpalice, and me, who were in another chamber, to come unto her in the chamber of Thrasimedes: and I think it was the very day that he fell in love with Arpalice: For her joy to hear Zenocrite so bitter and witty against Menecrates, made her seem so ●air, that he was not able to defend himself against her charms. After the first compliments were passed, Zenocrite was wondrous well acquainted with the whole Family of Thrasimedes, for it was one of her qualities that the knew almost all Asia: So that passing insensibly from a conversation of civility, into a jollity of mirth, she asked him sharply before Lycaste, how much he staked against Arpalices Picture, when he played with Menecrates: For I imagine (said she) that since he has no judgement either's Pictures or Diamonds, he would venture it for a little. It is not long of me, replied Thrasimedes, that much was not staked against it, since I offered him to stake the double whatsoever it cost, only for the Case; as for the Picture (said he, and looked upon Arpalice) all my estate is not equal to the prince of it. But, Madam (added he) how came you to know that Menecrates lost the Picture of the fair Arpalice? It seems, said Lycaste, that you are a stranger in this Country, else you would not wonder that Zenocrite should know it. The passage is so remarkable (said Zenocrite) to see a Lover play away the Picture of his Mistress, that it must needs be known all over the World. But I wonder why the friends of Menecrates should be so ill advised as to send Arpalices Picture to him: For in my apprehension there is nothing more ridiculous than these Family gallantries, which in the sight of all the world are done by the consent, if not the force of friends. If I had known this (said Arpalice) Thrasimedes should have been better than he is: For Menecrates should never have had my Picture, and by corsequence this misfortune which hath happened unto him should never have been. Do not call that a misfortune, Madam (replied he) which brings me the honour to be known unto so many noble persons. You may say what you please (said I unto him) but I think three dangerous wounds which you have received may very well be called a misfortune. Three are some misfortunes (replied he) which produce great happiness; and I may very well rank this to be in the number of them. For my part (said Zenocrite) since you do not die of them, I am glad it happened so; for I must confess, I have such strange aversion unto all such Lovers as are by the last Will and Testament of Parents, and who are certain to marry their Mistress the first day they see them, that I am glad they meet with some rubs in their progress: For take away fears, hopes, and miseries from love, and a lover is quite unspirited: And to prove what I say, do but imagine the most complete Gallant of the World, and conceive him to be with her whom he is to marry, the three or four preceding days before the Marriage, and imagine all his Brothers, Sisters, Nephews, Nieces, Uncles, Aunts, Fathers, Mothers, Grandfathers, and Grandmothers came to rejoice with him, I am most confident you will confess with me, that nothing will put him more out of countenance, be he never so professed and declared a Lover: For my part, it does so wound my eyes and imagination, that I cannot endure it. This is the case of Arpalice, who ever since she was born had her Lover before her eyes without love, whom she always looked upon as one that must be infallibly her husband whether she can fancy him or no. Whilst Zenocrite was talking thus, Thrasimedes looked upon Arpalice most attentively, and observed that his friend was pleased with what she said; but so was not Lycaste, who was angry at it; but Zenocrite being not accustomed to consult with the thoughts of others to express her own, continued talking, as she begun, all the rest of the day, knowing very well that Arpalice was not angry at her. Sometimes she would describe these kind of Lovers, afterwards represent the soulesse spirits of their Mistresses; then she would compare them with real Gallants, and observe such notable differences between them, that it was not possible but to concur with her in her opinions. But (said I once unto her, and interrupted her) than it is requisite to banish quite all manner of courtship and gallantry: For since a legitimate and ordained Gallant is not a Gallant, and that virtue will not admit of it otherwise, it must be concluded that it must not be admitted of at all. When I said so (replied Zenocrite) I did not directly mean as you understand it; for those Lovers which I condemn, are either those who are not really so, or who are long before hand declared to be so: For indeed to cause Gallantry to produce handsome effects, he who acts it, must love, and never consider whether he shall, or not marry; for when thoughts of marriage do arise in the heart of a Lover at the same 〈◊〉 his passion doth, I will maintain he is not Gallant as he is, who not knowing why he loves, nor which way to obtain love, yet does continue to love: Restlessness is one of the sweets of love; and I do not think there is any conversation more wearisome, then that of a Lover who hath nothing to desire, nor nothing to fear, or hope for. For my part (replied Thrasimedes) I do believe a Lover who hath nothing to complain of, is not in love: For let him be in as great favour as possibly he can, yet he ought to think that he is not enough in favour. Certainly, replied Zenocrite, it is most dangerous to sit down and say, I am satisfied and contented; nor is it very obliging: But as for Menecrates (said she, and rose up) I assure you, I would not for any thing, but he had lost Arpalices Picture, because the accident hath so diverted me, and will still divert me. After this Zenocrite retired, and also all the rest of the company, leaving Thrasimedes to entertain his own thoughts; and truly he was very indifferent; for the beauty of Arpalice did so pleasingly take up his mind, that he thought upon no other thing. In short, amiable Doralisa, not to trouble you with a relation of all the first thoughts of Thrasimedes, let me only tell you, that his weakness was so great, as it was a long while before he was sound, and so he saw Arpalice almost every day; and as his wounds which he received from her did heal, so her beauty made them deeper in his heart. He hath told me since, that at the first he did strive against his passion, but not being able to vanquish it, he submitted, and entirely abandoned his heart unto it. Since Thrasimedes had abundance of spirit, and witty gallantry, he soon got the esteem of Arpalice; he had also the good luck to please Zenocrite. For my part, I must confess, I had an easy inclination to become the friend of Thrasimedes; nor did I hinder those advantageous thoughts which Arpalice had of him. In the mean time, as much in love with her as he was, he durst 〈◊〉 show it unto her: For as the posture of things was, it was as offensive to talk of any such matters, as unto a married woman. However, since he knew she had an aversion unto Menecrates, he did not despair: But since he knew that the grand secret of love was to please and divert, he courted Arpalice and all her friends with all manner of delights: The first diverting entertainment which he gave her, was so extraordinary, that I must needs relate it. Imagine then, that we were in a great chamber, with Lycaste, Zenocrite, Cydipe, Arpalice, and many others, and myself: First, we heard an admirable harmony of Music in the street, Zenocrite looked upon us, and asked for whom this was intended? adding, that she believed some declared Lover who never does things handsomely, was at the charge of it. For my part, said Cydipe, I am sure it concerns not me; and me less than (you added Arpalice.) Perhaps it is intended to the company in general (said I.) It is not the custom (said Thrasimedes) to give public entertainments; for though every one who hears it, have equally their shares in it, yet I do believe there is a particular intendment of it unto some one. Afterwards we began to descant who it should be, and we named all the men of our acquaintance, but could not agree amongst ourselves which of them it should be; for if I named one, Cydipe would tell me that could not be, because she knew he was engaged in other company; if I named another, Zenocrite would assure me, that she knew he was not in a condition for entertainments, but was that night in a melancholy mood; if Lycaste thought she had guessed him, we all let her see that she was deceived; and as for Zenocrite, she herself confessed, that she could not imagine from whom this gallantry should proceed: But whilst we were giving our verdicts, Arpalice spoke not a word, and seemed as if she would not take so much pains as to find it out. Would not any one say (said Zenocrite) that Arpalice is a Stranger as well as Thrasimedes, and that she knows no body here. My silence (replied she, and smiled) argues that I am not guilty of that fault whereof all women are accused, who (they say) love to be talking when there is something that should be listened unto with attention, and who ask questions when they should be silent; and for my part, I conceive they are to be blamed who do so: For how can we take any delight in the Music (said she) if we do not silently hearken unto it? Yet Arpalice could not impose silence upon them; for their curiosity to know who it was that gave them this entertainment, did transport them above all other considerations. We sent a subtle and witty boy out of a back door, who knew all the men of quality in the town, with orders to observe & inquire who was the director, and at the charges of the Music: But we were all exceedingly surprised, when at his return he told us, that except the Music there was not one person in all the street. This boy had no sooner reported this, but Zenocrite, more subtle than the rest, told us that she would trouble herself no farther to know who gave it, but only to know to whom it was intended. Me thinks it is as difficult to find out that as the other (said I.) It is because I am ignorant that I knew it (answered she.) This Riddle is so obscure (replied I) that I confess I cannot understand it, and I believe it will pazzle Thrasimedes to untie the knot. Yet I am confident (said she) that he will confess I am not mistaken: Then whispering with him, she asked him whether it was unto Arpalice, or Cydipe, or myself that he intended this Music? Thrasimedes was extremely surprised ●he should g●●sse him, and did earnestly deny it, but the more he said she was mistaken, the more he did confirm her in her opinion. So that Zenocrite being ravished, that she had hit the mark which we had miss, her thoughts did pass from one to another, amongst us all but Lycaste, unto whom she would not impart any thing: For my part, she had no sooner h 〈…〉 d her thought unto me, but I concluded it certain, and Cydipe did the same, and indeed so did all the rest of the Ladies. As for Arpalice, whether she did dissemble her thoughts, and suspected that Thrasimedes was in love with her, or that she really did not credit our thoughts, she always said that we were all mistaken; but she continued not long in that Tone, for the next morning, I sent for one of those that was of the Music, who had formerly taught me in that quality, to come unto me, and conjured him to tell he, who employed him the night before: He being one who ever would trust his greatest secrets of his heart unto me, did ingenuously confess it that they were before no other house, but before Lycastes, that he who employed them was a very Gentile servant, who very liberally rewarded them, and enjoined secrecy; that he had the tone of a stranger, and did every way so fully describe the man, that I knew well enough that it was the servant of Thrasimedes, who employed them, and I imparted the secret unto Arpalice. There chanced also a more surprising accident then this; for be pleased to know, that the same night we had this Music, we all agreed to walk two days after to a stately and magnificent house some forty furlongs from Patara, which belonged unto a man, who was never better pleased and joyed then when himself was not the Master of it, and when his Porter told him there was much company in it, and when he heard they were delighted with it, and thought it to be a most admirable piece of Architecture: And indeed he was so taken with the beauty of it, and expressed his joy that others should be of the same mind, as one Lady did absolutely make it her own. The pleasure which others took in it was his; but at this time he was in the Town upon some occasions. This, amiable Doralisa, was the house which we intended to go unto, in the presence of Thrasimedes, all of us expressing our sorrows that he was not in a condition to go with us, and every one describing unto him the beauty, conveniency, and excellencies of this house. Lycaste commended the Architecture, and the Situation of it; Zenocrite a vast Arch standing upon thirty and two Columns, and a stately Staircase: Cydipe extolled the Hall which might well become the magnificence of the Egyptian Kings; for my part, I commended the pleasant Prospect, the Gardens, Fountains, Grots, and Statues: But as for Arpalice, who was all that day in an humour to be opposite unto others, she told us of a certain little solitary Closet which she preferred before all that we extolled in this stately Fabric. Not but that I know, said she, all these things which you commend are essentially more beautiful, yet this best pleaseth me, and I intent that day when you walk, I will walk only with my eyes, and stay in that closet which I speak of. Imagine (said she unto Thrasimedes, to justify her choice) that this Closet which suits so well with my inclination is so seated, that though it be open on two sides, so that one may see two ways as far as sight can reach, yet one cannot meet with any but solitary objects. The Gardens which one shall see on one side are all Grass and Gravel Walks, set with green trees. The Fountains all of Rustic work; the River, though natural, seems to be artificial. Beyond the Gardens one shall discover a great Forest, and beyond it Meadows, Pastures, Rivers, but not a Town, House, Hill, or Wood to hinder Prospect: So that if one were the only one in all the Universe, yet one should hardly be more solitary then in that place. I beseech you then imagine what delight may be taken in such a closet: I can find magnificent Architecture, and handsome chambers in many places of our Town; but I cannot any where find the pleasing solitude of this closet. As you are pleased to describe it, Madam, said Thrasimedes, 〈…〉 owe voice, it is not possible but to be of your opinion, and to think that which you commend, deserves to be preferred before any thing which any other commends: After this, we had much other discourse which is not pertinent to my story; but the day of our journe● being come, we we went unto this house according to our appointment, and we were as frolic as our hopes: First, at the corner of the Forest we were saluted with a consort of Oboes, admirably delighting: When we were in the Hall, we heard another Consort of Voices at the higher end; and when we were in the Chamber, a most rare Voice and a Theorboe: Admiration made us all silent to hearken unto this Harmony: After this we had a most admirable fine Banquet, in so much as Zenocrite said, that most certainly it was given by some man who had some amorous designs. However, since the man appeared not, none knew what to think; but as at the first Music, so at this, I doubted not but it was the gallantry of Thrasimedes: Yet since he had been wondrous civilly treated by Lycaste, I did not know whether this was only an acknowledgement of the favours he received, or a testimony of love, but I was not long in this ignorance, for be pleased to know, that the servant of Thrasimedes, who of his condition, was the wittiest man alive, did take such order with the Porter, that he might carry a letter, & lay it on the Table in the Closet which so much pleased Arpalice, obliging him to open the closet unto none unless herself; giving him such instructions, as he did according to his mind: And indeed, when Lycaste & Zenocrite desired to enter, he told them he could not open it, because his Wife who was in the Garden had the Keys: So, making that his excuse, he reserved it whilst Arpalice came: But staying until he had an opportunity to let her enter alone; & she returning back to ask him why they could not enter into it, he told her, that since she was alone he would let her enter, and the reason why he denied it before, was because his Master had charged him not to let many enter. Arpalice taking him at his word, desired to enter, consenting that he should lock her in if he would, so he came to open it within an hour: So the Porter did open it, and locked it again as soon as she was entered, making as if this were a great favour which he did her. At first when she entered, she told me that she went unto the Windows to enjoy the Prospect; but turning aside, she saw lying upon a Marble Table, a Letter, which had this Superscription. 
 To the Fair, and solitary Arpalice. 
  
You may easily conceive, amiable Doralisa, how this adventure surprised your Cousin; and if the Letter had been sealed, certainly she had not opened it; but when she read it she found these words.  
MADAM,  
YOur Beauty hath driven me to such a fatal necessity, as that I cannot hide the misery which you have caused, and I conceived that I could not more handsomely acquaint you with it, then in such a solitary place as pleaseth you. Had I seen that your eyes had observed mine, and understood them, I would not now have written, that I do infinitely love you, but since I saw you did not understand that language, I thought it more respect to write then to speak unto you: Yet if I be deceived in that, I am ready to repair my fault, and will tell you on my knees, upon the first handsome opportunity, that the Grandeur of my passion cannot be equalled by any thing but your Beauty.  
THRASIMEDES.  
After Arpalice had read this Letter, she was exceedingly unresolved what to do: She thought that to take it was too obliging unto him that writ it; and to leave it, was to show unto any that entered what Thrasimedes had written: But at last she thought of a way which was safe both ways, which was, to blot out what Thrasimedes had written: yet first she would take a copy, though it were but to show it unto me; and so she did; and so she thought Thrasimedes could not accuse her of too much indulgency: and she had no sooner blotted out what was written in the Letter, but the Porter came and opened the door, telling her that the company wanted her: Then she went out, but covered her face with her hood to hide her blushes, and could not speak one word unto the man: She was no sooner out, but spying me in a window towards the Garden, she came unto me, and acquainted me with the business, showing me a copy of the Letter: For my part, I must confess, I told her, that I thought the proceeding of Thrasimedes to be very gallant. So do I, said she, but let me tell you, I think it a little too bold, and very offensive to me; for he cannot choose but know the bad condition of my fortune, and how I am engaged unto Menecrates, and consequently I neither can, nor aught to suffer him, as I might if my fortune were otherwise. If love, said I unto her, were not a violent domineering passion, I should think Thrasimedes were obliged to hearken unto reason, and follow it: But, Arpalice, if he be in love, as very likely he is, it were unjust if you should think he acts by the rules of Reason: and to speak with reason, I cannot see why Thrasimedes should not think he may become a Rival unto him that did carelessly play away the Picture of his Mistress: We had talked much more, but time called us homeward; where when we were arrived, Lycaste, and Cydipe went unto the Chamber of Thrasimedes, but Arpalice would not go, feigning to be a little ill: He being a man of a quick spirit, easily apprehended the reason why Arpalice came not, and therefore feared extremely that she was incensed, yet very glad he was she had received his Letter: As for Lycaste, though she did believe Thrasimedes had given the Music, and Banquet, yet she never dreamt of any particular design in it: So that she did highly commend the magnificent liberality of this unknown man, who had so sumptuously treated them. But after he was gone, and the servant of Thrasimedes coming in, he acquainted his Master how Arpalice had read his Letter, and blotted it out. At the first his fears were predominate, but afterwards hope tempering his fears, he waited with much impatiency to see Arpalice, that he might guess by her eyes whether he had any hopes to have any share in her heart: but his longing desires were not so soon satisfied: for Arpalice continued still her feigned sickness, purposely because she would not be obliged to go with Lycaste into his Chamber; and her reason was, because she knew that Thrasimedes intended ere long to remove from the house; yet he had not left his Chamber: but since he could not see Arpalice, and not being able to live long in that anxiety, he began to stir abroad as a man in health: Gladly would he have stayed a little longer, if he could have seen Arpalice, but since he could not enjoy that happiness, he told Menophiles in the morning, that he intended to trespass upon his generosity no longer, but would lodge with an acquaintance he had in the Town: Menophiles was very unwilling to part with him, but at last, Thrasimedes prevailed, and though he was yet something weak, yet changed his lodging. 'Tis true, the house unto which he was to go, was not far distant, yet he dressed himself that day, in his richest habit, and as a man who was to see the only person whom he preferred before all the World. At first, he went unto the Chamber of Lycaste, where Cydipe was, and where he thanked her with as much spirit as civility, for all the courtesies he had received. But since he feared that when he would go unto Arpalice, who kept her Chamber, Lycaste would go with him, he made his visit very long, in hopes some would come in, and so he might more easily see Arpalice alone; and indeed it happened according to his wished hopes; for there came in much company, and whilst she entertained them, he went into the Chamber of Arpalice with more haste, than his weakness▪ would well allow him. Since she foresaw, that since he had been at Lycastes Chamber, he would come unto hers also, she sent for me, lest he should find her alone, but as I was ready to go unto her, some company came in which stayed me, so that Thrasimedes was more happy than she intended he should be, for he found an opportunity to talk in private with her: there being none but one servant in the room; as earnest as the desire of Thrasimedes was to see Arpalice, as soon as ever he saw her, he was fuller of fears than joys, because he found her so serious, that he apprehended the enterprise in which he was engaged more difficult than he imagined: Yet she received him with civility enough, but it was mixed with such a cold strangeness, as had no obliging sweetness in it. However, Thrasimedes being resolved to lay hold upon such a favourable opportunity, after the first compliments were passed, and Arpalice desired him to sit down, I thought Madam (said he unto her) to have found you so sick, as would have moved compassion in all those that saw you, but for aught I see, you are in such a condition, as make all those who see you to need pity themselves; and I believe you affect solitude only to prevent the making men miserable: I assure you, though it be good to do so, (replied she) yet one knows not how to avoid it: for there is no place so solitary where a misfortune may not happen. I understand you very well, Madam, said he unto her, and I can see how you reckon the boldness which I presumed to take in disturbing your solitude in the Closet in the number of your misfortunes. But I beseech you Madam, is it such a grand misfortune to be told, that I adore you? and is it a crime, that I am not able to live unless you know I am totally devoted yours? I neither begged your esteem nor your affection; but only presented mine; I beseech you, why then do you receive me with such a hollow hearted entertainment? I have long since heard say, replied she, that it is the custom of those who are in fault, to complain first, before they be accused. I beseech you Madam, replied he, what crime have I committed? Am I the cause that you are the fairest person in the world? Can I choose but admire you, have I not a heart that is sensible? or if it were a crime, have you not sufficiently punished me for it? have you not most cruelly blotted out what I had writ? and deprived me of your sight three days together? surely that is punishment enough to expiate all the crimes which a violent passion forced me to commit. Had you told me, replied Arpalice, that your design was only to make me hate my solitude in writing so craftily that letter which I found in the Closet, doubtless I should then have pardoned you: but since you persevere in your crime, and continue talking as you do, I must needs express my dislike of it, and that I am highly offended: It seems then, that you are as rigorous as fair, replied he, but though you be, yet I beseech you Madam, do me the favour to tell me what punishment you have reserved for Menecrates? for I see no reason or justice, that you should punish me for adoring you; and recompense him for slighting you: I conceive it no good plea, replied she, to justify one's self, by the crimes of others; and though Menecrates be culpable, yet that does not at all excuse Thrasimedes from being culpable also: Pray Madam, replied he, do me so much honour as to tell me what my crime is? you have writ unto me, replied she, and that's enough: are you offended because I tell you truth (replied Thrasimedes) It is no matter, said she, whether what you say be true or false, your crime is in teling it: Do you think me as culpable, replied he, in speaking sincerely, as in telling you a lie? How ever it be, said she, you have offended me, and I am the more apprehensive of your fault, because I had the greatest inclination in the world to be your friend: Oh Madam, said Thrasimedes, if so, It is impossilbe you should hate me, because I love you: or if it be, not because I have told you, but because I have told you in an ill manner; your distinctions are very nice; (replied Arpalice and smiled) But never to trouble yourself further with a search whether I am offended because you love me; or because you have writ unto me, or because you have writ to me in an ill manner, be assured, I am offended: I beseech you Madam replied he, since I have offended against my will, tell me which way I should appease you? In doing that, said she which is contrary unto the thing which offended me: Then replied he, I must most horridly hate you; but since that is not in my power, I must endeavour to appease you some other way, which Madam shall be, by a most humble respect and profound silence: yes Madam, since what I say offends you, I will not any more speak of my passion, until I can obtain my pardon, and that your eyes assure me of it. I assure you, said she, if you understand their Language very well, they will never tell you any thing, which may persuade you, I can forget the offence, which you have given me. Alas Madam, replied he, I do not desire you should forget it as long as you live; but that you may remember as long as life lasts, that I am the most zealous and respective Lover that lives upon the Earth: As Arpalice was ready to answer, and perhaps sharply, I came in; making a thousand excuses, that I came no sooner, I perceived that the minds both of Arpalice and Thrasimedes were so distracted, that they knew not what I said, and I began so to talk unto them, as I moved Arpalice to blush and Thasimedes to smile, who told me he would come and thank me for the favour I had done him: but to tell you truly, I thought myself little beholding to him for the favour, because he did visit me rather as the friend of her he loved, then for any other reason. After he was gone out of Arpalices Chamber, she related all their conversation unto me; but for all her anger against Thrasimedes for speaking so openly of his love; yet I knew she did not hate him, but that there was a strong inclination in her heart to esteem him. I pray Arpalice, said I unto her, tell me wherein you think liberty consists? you, I say, who declares yourself to be an enemy unto all manner of force and constraint; who would enjoy it in the most trivial things: who never thinks any recreation pleasant, unless you might choose it? who thinks that which others call decency, to be an insupportable severity: who was always used to say, that the only advantage which men have above women is liberty; and that the greatest pleasure of Travellers is, that they are not subject unto the Laws of the places where they pass: and who conceives the chief felicity of friendship to consist in venting unto each other all that is in their hearts freely without compulsion: and yet I see this great Lover of liberty, does suffer herself to be a slave: I pray, said she unto me, what moves you to speak thus? Reason, replied I, for do I not know that you hate Menecrates extremely? I do confess it, replied she, and do not I know, said I, that you do lov●● ●●rasimedes? Did he behave himself towards me as I would have him, replied she, I do 〈…〉 fez indeed, that I think I should not hate him: for his person does please me; and his spirit is infinitely agreeable unto mine, and he does almost persuade me that he esteems me. I pray tell me, said I unto her, how would you have him behave himself towards you? and what would you have him say? but withal Madam, I would have you speak sincerely: would you have have him (said I unto her, seeing she answered not) not respect you more than any other? that he should not prefer to talk with you before me; that he should look upon you like a man who thinks upon nothing? that he should never talk unto you but upon things indifferent, as having no particular design to please you, that he should never commend you; nor do any thing which might persuade you that he loves you? speak I conjure you, and ingenuously confess that if he should do thus, he would not be so much in your opinion as he is, though he hath a little over freely told you, that he loves you. You are so free this day, (replied Arpalice and laughed) that I think you will make me a hater of Liberty, since it moves you to utter so many things which displease me, though they do not anger me so much as I would. I beseech you said I, consider seriously, and resolve with yourself what you will do with the poor Thrasimedes, for I perceive he is so deeply in love with you, that I am confident he will never return into his own Country: For my part, said Arpalice very sadly, I do not think you would have me so miserable, as to marry a man whom I cannot love, nor do I think you would have me love Thrasimedes, whom I can never pretend unto: but I think Candiope, that you are either out of your wits, or else will drive me out of mine; otherwise why do you not express yourself quite contrary to what you do? It is because I cannot betray my own thoughts (replied I and laughed at her anger) and because I have no mind to contradict yours. Then did Arpalice by degrees confess unto me, that she never saw a man in all the world whom she could affect, except Thrasimedes. But not to trouble you with a tedious relation of all we said at this time; let me only tell you, that it appeared Thrasimedes had no intention of going so soon from Lycia: For he put himself into a magnificent equipage, and co 〈…〉ed the acquaintance of all the Gallants in our Town: But as for the Ladies he never visited any unless the friends of Arpalice, and amongst them, I was one whom he often visited, and with whom he held a great intimacy of friendship. He was so amiable and handsome, that he was the object of an universal esteem, and it had been strange if Arpalice had slighted him. He was none of those light ●●apo●ring lovers, who care not what they talk before their Mistresses, o● who excessively commend a black Beauty before one that is fair; but on the contrary he is so judicious, so exact, and discreet in his passion, and without any affectation or constraint in his actions, that if at any time he commended any in the presence of Arpalice, it was so as it might appear he thought Arpalice the most fair, and most worthy of commendations: And I believe never any had a finer art to keep himself within in his own rank than he had. As oft as I have seen him with Arpalice, in the Temples, at Visits, in Walks, and Assemblies, I never saw him intrusive, nor ever put any out of their places, yet was he perpetually with her, and therefore you may imagine, that if she had a heart absolutely insensible, she could not choose but be much taken with such a perfectly accomplished man as Thrasimedes, and with one who was so knowing in the art of procuring love. I will omit all the relation of all those rigours which she showed unto him at the first, and how she slighted the merits of such a man: For perhaps you will hardly think it possible she should treat a man so roughly, whom she esteemed so highly: But let me tell you, that the pa●● on of Thrasimedes did manifestly appear, that the friends of Menecrates took it to heart, and though they esteemed Thrasimedes very well, yet they thought themselves obliged to tell Arpalice their minds. Until now Arpalice did constrain herself, but as soon as Menophiles and Lycaste spoke unto her concerning Thrasimedes, and commanded her to let him know, that he must not any farther engage himself in her service, she ceased to resist her inclination, and did so peremptorily revolt from those that commanded her to banish Thrasimedes, so incivilly, that she began to slack her rigour to him: Yet would not she permit him to speak openly of his love, but without any anger or sharpness, imposed silence upon him. This being the state of things, news came that Parmenides and Menecrates would return within two days. This report had different operations in the heart of Arpalice; for her love unto her brother made her rejoice to see him so soon, and her hatred of Menecrates, made her strangely apprehend his return. On the other side Thrasimedes had so little assurance of the heart of Arpalice, that he knew not what to resolve upon, nor how to behave himself towards Menecrates, therefore he determined to find out a way how to speak with Arpalice in private: But since it was not her custom to give him any such opportunities: And since all he had to say required longer time then common conversations, which lasted not above a quarter of an hour, he bethought himself of an invention which did admirably well serve his turn. Know then, that to bring about his design, he bestowed a visit upon me; and after much common discourse, he began to talk of Menecrates, ask me confidently, how I thought Arpalice would receive him: Afterwards falling from one discourse to another, he told me that he had a very great desire to give an entertainment unto Arpalice, before Menecrates came: For, said he, if one may credit Zenocrite, she dares not so much as lift up her eyes after he is arrived. For my part, though I knew Thrasimedes was in love with Arpalice, yet I did not suspect he had any secret design in his words; and he was so accustomed to treat us with fresh entertainments, that the proposition did not at all surprise me. I asked him then what kind of treatment this should be? telling him it must be quickly if he would have it before the return of Menecrates. Thrasimedes perceiving me so easily deluded, told me, that Arion, who was so famous throughout the world, was arrived at Patara; but since he had a desire to pass● unknown, he would not be got to play upon the Harp, unless one had some intimate friendship with him; but being well acquainted with him at Corinth, he could prevail with him, provided it was not before much company. This may easily be, replied I; for it may be at Lycastes house. The company would be too great there (replied he) for there will not be ●ewer than ●ycaste, Zenocrite, Cydipe, Arpalice, and yourself; and you may well imagine, that it is not possible to make Zenocrite keep any long silence to oblige Arion to play his best; for you must know that such a man whose voice useth to charm the very Dolphins, will not take it well that Ladies will not be attentive: Methinks I see him already lay his Lute or Harp upon the Table at the first word which Zenocrite speaks, and will neither play, nor sing any longer. What then is the best course, said I unto him? The best way is, replied he, that you invite Arpalice hither to your house to morrow after dinner upon some pretence or other, that she come alone, and that you give it out all that day, that you are not within, and admit of none but Arion and yourself, who will come together. Thrasimedes had no sooner made this proposition, but I accepted of it; for since my Father allowed me all the liberty I could desire, knowing I would not abuse it, it was an easy matter for me to do according unto this proposition: and since I believed Arpalice would not dolour at it, I made a positive promise unto Thrasimedes, who having a Halicarnassian friend, who played passing well upon the Harp, and sung as well, he made use of him in lieu of Arion. To shorten my discourse as much as I can, I obtained of Arpalice to come and see me, and the truth is, I forced her, for she did long deny me, but perceiving me grow angry, she came thither the day following very timely: You may imagine that Thrasimedes failed not to come, nor to bring his pretended Arion with him: but I forgot to tell you, that he desired me to treat him with much civility, and to commend him highly: He told me also, that the best way to make him sing, and play well, was to entertain him well before he began to sing: for it is the humour of all the Musicians in the world, to love applauds, and therefore if any would have him do his best, they must commend him, and allow him patience in relating some of his amorous adventures, or his adventure of the Dolphin. If that be all, said I unto him, let me alone to do all the civilities which are fitting: And indeed, the next morning when he came, I was as good as my word: and Thrasimedes had so well described his Goddess unto him, that he did all which was desired of him: So that this counterfeit Arion, who was a man of wit and spirit enough, began to address all his discourse unto me according to the instructions of Thrasimedes, whilst one of his men was to bring his harp: At first, the discourse was general amongst us all four; but he fell insensibly to talk only unto me: tchin king thereby to oblige him unto a better humour of singing, I willingly harkened unto him, and desired him to relate his admirable adventure of the Dolphin which was so famed over all the World. And indeed he began such a circumstantial relation, that I thought he would not have finished before the next morning, and so he would not sing nor play that night. Moreover Thrasimedes had told me that he was fantastical, and I was so fully persuaded of it, that I durst not seem so weary of him as I was. In the mean while, Thrasimedes desiring not to lose such a favourable opportunity as had cost such pains to compass, came nearer Arpalice than before; Madam (said he unto her, in a low voice) me thinks since Candiope permits Arion to relate his past misfortunes, you may as well allow me to relate my present miseries: But I beseech you Madam (added he, perceiving by her looks that she prepared to deny him) be not so inhuman as to deny me a hearing: the harp of Arion will presently prevent me without your rigour, therefore I beseech you let me speak. Arpapalice thinking that ere long the Harp of Arion would come, and that then the pretended Arion would begin to sing and play, did not impose silence upon Thrasimedes: So that this lover, not fearing to be interrupted by the Music of Arion, began his discourse. Madam (said he unto her) I cannot think myself so unhappy as that you should not know I love, and love you infinitely: all my actions speak as much, my very looks may assure you of as much, and certainly it is impossible that there should be so much love in my heart, and you ignorant of it: So, Madam, I will use no persuasive arguments to let you know I love you; for I presuppose you know it: but I will only ask you, how it is your pleasure I should behave myself unto this lovelesse Rival who will shortly arrive? for I do profess and declare, Madam, that I cannot change my heart. Moreover give me leave to assure you, Madam, that if I were so happy as to be more in your esteem than he, the engagement which obligeth you unto him should be no obstacle unto my happiness: For though I know that if you refuse to marry him, the last Will and Testament of your Parents deprives you of the greatest part of your estate, yet give me leave to tell you, that I have enough to recompense that loss, since certainly my estate is as much as both yours and Menecrates, if both put together: Let him enjoy then what the Laws of your Country gives him, and I beseech you grant me that which, both reason and love requires, I mean, your affection. Your expressions are so full of generosity, replied Arpalice, that I cannot be offended at them: But after my thanks to you, I must tell you, that how much soever I esteem you, and what aversion soever I have unto Menecrates, and how great a repagnancy I have to be forced, yet I must confess, I have not power to make any other expressions than such as I have all my life: Therefore, generous Thrasimedes, if you do esteem me, you will pity my misfortune, and make no ill attempts to alter me: And if you will oblige me, live with Menecrates as you did at Apamea, and live with me as with a person neuterall and indifferent. How, Madam, said he, do you think there is any equity in your language? Can you think it possible I can live with you in a neutrality, and indifferency? Would you have me live with Menecrates as I did at Apamea? I beseech you, Madam, consider what you say; think what a lamentable fate it is to marry one who loves you not; and what injustice it is to drive a man into despair who infinitely loves you, and who will infallibly die if you have no care of his life: For heaven's sake, Madam, put a difference between Menecrates and me. Consider, I beseech you, how he will receive this honour which you do him without any joy, and conclude that he who can so easily play away your Picture, will perhaps as easily part with your person as it: For my part, Madam, the attection, which I bear unto you, makes me receive the least of your favours upon a thankful knee; and in testimony of it, I pray see how great a veneration the heart of Thrasimedes holds of you. In saying so, he let her see how carefully he had kept the Letter which he had writ unto her. Do not think, Madam (said he) I carry this so carefully about me, for any other reason but because it was touched with your fair hands, when you cruelly blotted out the first testimonial of my love. Imagine, Madam, I beseech you, with what real reverence I should receive a real favour: Oh, for heaven's sake, put not a vast treasure into the possession of a blind man, who knows not the value of it. Let him have the liberty to punish himself by a new choice; and do you make choice of a heart which knows how to adore you according to your infinite merit: Doubtless you will find in mine as much reverence as passion, and as much fidelity as love. Advise well with yourself, Madam, and consider what is your best course: The very lest syllable you can pronounce may regulate all my actions; and truly upon your answer depends the fate of all my life. I am not so full of vanity (answered she) as to believe all you say; but I have so good an opinion of you, as to hope you will not deny the request which I shall make unto you, which is, that you will for the love of me live civilly with Menecrates, lest if you do not, something might reflect in my disadvantage, which should infallibly fall upon you: For in the humour I am in, perhaps I am not so just as to accuse those of my misfortune who are the real causes of it. If you will honour me so far as to promise me, replied Thrasimedes, that you will never make Menecrates happy, I shall promise you to live civilly with him: But, Madam, if you make me absolutely despair, I shall hardly answer you as I do. I assure you (replied Arpalice, and sighed) I should despair myself, if I thought nothing could prevent my marriage with Menecrates; and I am confident if such a misery do befall me, I shall hardly believe it the very preceding minute. Whilst Thrasimedes was talking with Arpalice, she looked continually whether Arion's Harp was brought; not that she did hate him who was speaking unto her; but because she feared to give him either too obliging, or too sharp answers, and therefore she would gladly have their discourse interrupted: For my part, I looked as earnestly as she for the coming of the Harp: For since Thrasimedes told me, that there was a notable difference between the discourse of Arion and his Music, I longed to hear it; and indeed he spoke very elegantly, so that thinking he would sing a hundred times better than he spoke, I had a conceit he would then charm me: But at last, after a long stay, according to the plot of Thrasimedes, the Harp came: And as soon as I saw it, I presented it unto this pretended Arion, thinking I could not oblige him more than by my impatient desire of hearing him; but he having no such desire to be heard, took it, and laid it upon the Table again: saying, he would first finish what he had begun, and what I had commanded him to relate: So that fearing to anger him, I sat down again, and harkened unto the rest of his Dolphin adventure, which he did tell even to the least wave of Sea in which the King of Fishes did triumph: describing him so circumstantially, as he did not omit so much as a Scale or Fin of the Dolphin, nor the curls which he made in the water: yet I was so simple as to think that all his long wound descriptions were only consequents of his Poetical humour, and that his manner of speaking was only a little too full of Tropes and Figures; though I observed all along that he spoke very elegantly: But at last, after a long relation of this adventure, he took up the Harp and played: Arpalice also drew nearer, and imposed silence upon Thrasimedes: but the counterfeit Arion told her, that she needed not make such haste, for his instrument was not yet in tune, and it would be long before he could bring it into fit order for Harmony, all the favour he desired was, that she would be pleased to speak low, addressing his speech afterwards unto Thrasimeaes, conjuring him to give an example unto Arpalice: And indeed this Musician was very long in tampering, and tuning his Harp: twenty times did he twine up and down the strings; sometimes it was set too high, sometimes too low, sometimes in the same note it was before: he broke above twenty strings, still something was out of order: then would he lift up his eyes towards heaven, and turning towards the company seem to be very angry: Afterwards would he offer at a tune in a kind of confused manner, so as one could not judge whether he was skilful, o● ignorant in Music: And indeed this subtle friend had all the fretting humours of a peevish Musician, and seemed so hard to please in tuning his Instrument, that he gave Thrasimedes, time enough to talk, he would lengthen out the time by intermixing a discourse of Music: and omitted not one term of art: he told me of three sorts, of the Phrygian, of the Dorian, and of the Lydian: he had up the Diotonique, the Cromatique, the Diapason, the Mese, the Paramese, and a hundred other conjuring words, which I understood not, nor ever shall remember; and all this in such a Magisterial tone, as if Amphion, Linus, or Orpheus had spoke. In the mean time, be pleased to know, that I thinking I could not do a greater pleasure unto him that was my Music Master, then to acquaint him, I sent for him, appointing him to be brought into my Closet by a back pair of stairs: And indeed when this pretended Arion had tuned his Harp, this Musician was in my Closet, with all the women of my house. You may imagine how impatient he was to hear this man, whose fame went over all the world. In the mean time, since I knew he was not less famous for his Verses, then for his Music and Voice, and thinking those which he sung when he thought he should have died, would be most admirable, I would needs entreat him to sing them; therefore I explained my meaning, and courted him unto it: you may imagine that he could not satisfy my desire, since the true Arion would never impart those admirable Poems unto any; but the friend of Thrasimedes having wit at will, excused himself very handsomely: He told me, that it was a song so sad, and so full of lamentable expressions, that it would move more sorrow than joy. ay, who desired that he should have a good opinion of my ability in matters of music, desired to think that Arpalice and myself were not of the humours of most women in general, who affect only light pleasant Airs; but on the contrary, we delighted most in melancholy tunes, which sad and soften the hearts of hearers, and move them unto compassion. Oh, Madam, replied he, I dare not consent unto your desires; for I am confident, that which moved the Dolphins unto compassion, will move too much sadness in you. Seeing then that I could not move him to satisfy my desires, I pressed him no farther, but let him sing what he pleased: All this while Thrasimedes was expressing his love unto Arpalice, who fearing to give too much hope unto her Lover, rose up, and came nearer the counterfeit Arion, who perceiving his friend had done his business, and would talk no longer with Arpalice, and therefore he resolved to sing: But though he did it very well for a man of Quality, who made it not his profession; yet my expectation being high, I was astonished when this friend of Thrasimedes began to sing so meanly. But whatsoever I was, the Musician in the Closet was much more. However, Arpalice and I durst not let our wonder appear; but seemed as if we thought he sung admirably well: yet I could not choose but tell Arpalice in a low voice (whilst he was tuning his Lute for another Air) what I thought: Do you not think (said I in her ear) that Dolphins only can think this Harmony admirable? For my part, said she, all I can say is, that if Arion speaks no better than he fing, certainly he has tired you. I assure you (said I unto her) he does not sing so well as he speaks; and I am confident, that it was by words, not songs, he charmed the Dolphin. Though Arpalice and I resolved to speak but one word, yet I found myself in such a laughing vein, that I talked a long time purposely to keep me from laughing out: But that which gave me the first ground of suspicion was, that whilst I was talking to Arpalice, I observed this feigned Arion tuned his Instrument, looked upon Thrasimedes, and was so tickled with a laughing conceit, that he had much ado to contain as I: yet did he counterfeit the Musician still, and did it very well: But finding his friend desired no longer discourse, and seeming to be angry at what Arpalice and I did, he laid his Harp upon the Table hastily, and would sing no longer: Arpalice having not observed so much as I, began to make a thousand excuses, and desired him to continue his singing, but he, with the pettish humour of a Musician, said, it should be some other time. For my part, I stood silent, and he making use of my silence to colour his refusal of Arpalice, told her, that he perceived I was not pleased, because he would not sing the same verses which he sung when the Dolphin saved his life, and therefore he would stay until such time as he had a little recollected his memory. Since you owe your life unto them, replied Arpalice, it is not credible you should forget them. Whilst she was talking thus, Thrasimedes, who was not sorry his plot was discovered, because it would be taken for a mark of love, came unto me, and asked me with a smile what I thought of his friend. Methinks (said I unto him in a low voice) that this Arion speaks so well, and sings so ill, that I think him more fit to divert company by his discourse, then to char 〈…〉 Dolphin's by his voice: For my part if I had been a Dolphin, I should have taken more delight in hearing the Waves dash against the Rocks, then in his songs. However (said Thrasimedes unto me) his Harp gives not more satisfaction than his eloquence. I cannot say so (replied I) for his discourse pleaseth me much better than his Music. After this Thrasimedes told me, that Arion had a desire not to be known, and therefore would be called Philistion as long as he stayed in Town. And the best conceit was, that this borrowed name which Thrasimedes mentioned, was the right name of the counterfeit Arion, who after as much discourse as spoke him to be a man of much spirit, went away with Thrasimedes, who told me so much as I did not doubt of this trick which was put upon us: So that fearing lest it should make some noise in the Town, I went presently into my Closet to entreat the Musician not to tell Arion was in Patara: but a woman of Arpalices, and another of mine, overhearing that name, it was a hard matter that a secret should be kept amongst three, especially since the Musician was even ravished that Arion sung so ill. 'Tis true, he did not report that he heard Arion in my chamber, but he said he heard him: The two women durst not tell all the truth which they thought they knew, but they told all the women of Zenocrite that Arion was in Town, and that Thrasimedes was acquainted with him: So that the next day the news was public, and every one asked whether they had seen Arion? But the best conceit was, that the same day Zenocrite came unto Lycaste, where I was, with Cydipe, and Arpalice, Thrasimedes came also, and brought Philistion with him as Philistion, that is, as a man of Quality in Hallicarnassis, and not as Arion: For my part, though I did believe he had put a trick upon us, yet I knew not for whom I should take this Stranger; but I was much perplexed, that every one who came that day to Lycaste, should all talk of Arion: Some said one thing, others another, according to the various reports of Relators: For my part, said Zenocrite, I despair not of knowing him, for I am told he is a friend of Thrasimedes. I must confess, when I heard Zenocrite say so, I thought it some affront which she put upon Arpalice, and me; and that she had known something of the precedent day's passage. On the other side, Thrasimedes and Philistion knew not what to think: But at last Thrasimedes said, that he had not as yet seen Arion, and that if he did meet with him, he promised Zenocrite to bring him unto her: He had no sooner passed this promise, but all the company desired the same favour, and Philistion was as earnest of it as any of the rest: So that Arion desired to see Arion. In the mean time Arpalice and I could hardly hold from laughing; yet she restrained herself as well as she could: She had much ado to bring some angry Idea into her fancy to prevent it; but at last the thought of Menecrates his arrival the next day, gave a stop unto all her mirth. In the mean time Thrasimedes came to me, and asked me pardon for the imposture which he had used, making me an exact relation of all, and conjuring me to pity him, and do him all good offices unto Arpalice. I shall not relate all that he said unto us, for it would be too long: nor how Thrasimedes was persecuted by all those who desired him to make them acquainted with Arion, nor how Zenocrite did play upon the return of Menecrates: But let me tell you, that Arpalice seeing Menecrates did return the next day, and apprehending, that perhaps within a few days they would enjoin her to marry him, she was so exceedingly sad at the thought of it, that she fell sick, and so sick that she kept her bed. To tell you truly, I am persuaded, that as things stood, her esteem of Thrasimedes did augment her aversion unto Menecrates: However, her dislike of him made her sad and sick: So that partly sad, partly sick, she kept her bed all the next day, and I stayed with her, because she desired I should see how he would accost her; and indeed the meeting was very civil on Menecrates his side, though with much indifferency, but with an extreme coldness from Arpalice: She being in her bed, and, as she said, sick, no great notice was taken, but he seemed more disposed to look upon Cydipe, who was very handsome that day, then to talk with Arpalice; and he did it so openly, that one could not do him a greater pleasure then to withdraw, and leave him alone with her: But the strangest thing is, that this Lover, who at his return found his Mistress sick, was so little troubled at it, that he stayed very late talking with Cydipe in Lycastes chamber, and was in the merriest mood in the world that night: I leave you to judge whether this was not enough to augment Arpalices aversion, who was indeed so really troubled at this proceeding, that she was really sick for fifteen days; and Menecrates did not visit her above one quarter of an hour every day, employing all the rest in pleasures, and courting Cydipe, who infinitely pleased him: Also he did visit Thrasimedes, and so did Parmenides: For though they had told him of the passage concerning the Picture, and had hinted as much as might persuade him that Thrasimedes was in love with Arpalice; yet since himself was not, he cared not, and consequently did not choke his civilities unto Thrasimedes, who ever since the day in which he confessed his trick, did continually tell me of his love to Arpalice. In the mean time since she would not do Menecrates so much favour as to seem angry against him for playing away her Picture, but only continued cold towards him, without any mention of the true cause, she was very desirous of some time to resolve upon what course to take, and would go into the Country with Zenocrite, who asked leave of Lycaste, telling her, that fresh air was the best thing to recover her health: So that Arpalice went with Zenocrite for fifteen days: Menecrates not knowing whether she was improved or no, since he had only seen her in the dark: So she went out of her bed into a Coach; and was not very sick; for she being much more sick in mind then body, stirring made her better. For my part, I stayed at Patara, with orders to write news unto Arpalice: and indeed I gave her a full relation, and had matter enough for it: for Menecrates was so taken with the beauty of Cydipe, and Parmenides so deep in love with Cleoxene, Sister unto Menecrates, and the counterfeit Arion seemed not to hate me, so that I had matter of news enough: But when I sent all this news unto her, I sent two several Letters, one to herself, another to show Zenocrite: for though she was a very generous person, yet there were some secrets which one would hardly trust themselves with; and though she was her confident in a hundred things, yet they were such as related more unto others than herself: Thus Zenocrite knew all, but knew it by such as had no interest in it: And thus I left it unto the discretion of Arpalice, what she thought fit to impart unto her: And she told her with joy that Menecrates applied himself unto Cydipe, but with sorrow, that Parmenides loved the Sister of Menecrates: I writ to her also in raillery, how Thrasimedes visited me so oft, that Philistion had not opportunity to express half the esteem he had of me. In the mean time the love of Thrasimedes being violent, the absence of Arpalice seemed long unto him, and needs must he write unto her: Since he knew I used to send unto her, and since he had made me tell him the day when I writ unto her, he came unto me as I was ready to make up my Packet; and knowing I sent her all the witty and pleasant things I could glean, he gave me some verses, which he had two years since, but since I never saw them, I took them for a novelty; So that after he had read them unto me, I sent them unto Arpalice: But as Thrasimedes gave them unto me, he slily slip● a note into them which I perceived not: So that when Arpalice opened my Packet she was much surprised to find a Letter from Thrasimedes, whose hand she knew very well, and wondering I should undertake to send it without any mentioning it unto her. The Letter was thus written.  
To the Fairest Person in the World.  
MADAM,  
I Do not only beg a pardon for my own presumption in writing to you, but for Candiope also, whom I have deluded: Yet, Madam, how can I choose but ask how long this cruel absence will last, which deprives me of the happiness in seeing you? and I must needs ask also, whether you will for ever banish that man out of your heart, who infinitely loves you, and cannot possibly live without you. I should subscribe his name, but I beseech you name him yourself, to the end I may have the honour of being pronounced by the fairest person that ever was.  
As this Letter was as full of respect as Gallantry, it did more please then anger Arpalice; and the delusion which Thrasimedes put upon me had a happier success than he could wish: yet she seemed to be angry, but it was in such mild terms, as it was evident her anger proceeded rather from decency then any sharp resentment: yet Arpalice did not answer the Letter of Thrasimedes; but sent it unto me; and if I could as well remember her Letter unto me, as I do this which I have related, I should make you confess she writes as well as she speaks: For truly it was the most facetious piece of wit that ever I saw: She observed the severity of a prudent person in anger, and yet had many expressions concerning Thrasimedes infinitely obliging. 'Tis true, she charged me not to show her letter, but to tell you the truth, I saw she had been so elaborate in writing, that I thought she had no desire to be obeyed: for when she writ only unto me, her Character was wont to be more careless, and worse legible; she used not such exact expressions, nor elegant phrases. So that I showed it unto Thrasimedes, chiding him sound for the trick he had put upon me, but to qualify my anger, I showed him Arpalices Letter, wherewith he was extremely charmed, not only because it was admirably penned, but also because it was obliging unto himself: He used all his Rhetoric to get a copy of that place which concerned himself, but I would not suffer him. 'Tis true he read it so oft, that he could not choose but remember it. In the mean time, this day's conference did so perfectly persuade me of the real affection Thrasimedes bore unto Arpalice, that for the good fortune of them both, I wished Menecrates so far in love with Cydipe, that he would marry her, and think no more upon Arpalice: And I assure you, that during this absence I did what I could to advance it: I never saw Cydipe in a negligent dress but I chid her, lest it should be any hindrance; and whatsoever she say now, she was then glad Menecrates preferred her before the greatest beauty in all Licia: And indeed she was a full of complacency to him, as any virtuous person could be. 'Tis true, she was universally civil unto all; so that many were not so subtle as to perceive: but that never deceived me; for I easily perceived she was glad Menecrates loved her. In the mean time, Parmenides, who was deep in love with Cleoxene, durst not show it unto Menecrates, because he was afraid to incense her: And knowing that Arpalice did not love Menecrates, he thought best to keep upon good terms with Cleoxenes Brother: And for the better understanding of this adventure, you must know, that Cleoxene had as great a spirit as beauty, but it was such a subtle secret spirit, that those who thought they knew her best, did sometimes find they knew her not at all: and indeed, at that time she passed for a person indifferent, who valued not the love of any, but delighted in all pleasures in general, and loved nothing else: who did not apply herself unto any pleasure in particular; who kept not secret confidence with any, but told all the world, she could not conceive any thing was necessary to be kept secret: Yet this person whom I have described unto you, held an intimate correspondency for above a year with a brother of mine, whose name was Lysias, and none ever suspected any thing. 'Tis true, Lysias was as discreet, as Cleoxene was subtle, and I should never have known this correspondency, if by chance I had not found Cleoxenes Letter, whose hand I knew, and which moved my Brother to impart his secret unto me for fear I should reveal it. You may imagine (after this which I have told you) that Cleoxenes put my Brother into much peplexity: yet since he thought her rigour proceeded from her indifferency, the worse she treated him, the more he loved her: For as those who are of a proud and lofty spirit, as he was, either quickly recoil, or more resolutely fall on, Parmenides not doing the first of these, did the second, and did so hastily court Cleoxene, that if Lisias had been capable of Jealousy, doubtless, he would have feared such a Rival: But as Cleoxene carried the matter, he was not at all jealous, and the assaults of Parmenides did rather divert them, and augment their affections: For Lisias was more circumspect, and Cleoxene was more exact, and more obliging. Moreover, they made me promise and swear such faithful secrecy, that I never acquainted Arpalice with this affection, who thought Cleoxene to be as indifferent, as indeed she was amorous: And I have heard her wish a hundred times that she were of her temper, and had a soul so disengaged as she thought Cleoxene had. As for Philistion, he behaved himself towards me, as if he were persuaded, it was not handsome for a man of spirit to stay so long in a Town without some piece of Gallantry: and I carried myself towards him, as one that was not sorry he should esteem me so much above others, as to talk of me when he returned into his own Country. Thus Philistion having a heart not over deeply engaged, was very pleasant, and obliging company: Menecrates thinking upon nothing but how to please Cydipe: Parmenides of nothing but how to move the heart of Cleoxene, Cleoxene sporting at his passion with Lisias; and Philistion and I having no further designs, but to esteem one another, Arpalice returned with Zenocrite, but so admirably fair, and so perfectly recovered of her sickness, that she was cried up as a fresh new-come beauty: and I believe she returned with full intentions to treat Menecrates coarsely. Know then, that Zenocrite brought her into her Aunt's chamber, where she found abundance of company, amongst the rest, Menecrates, who was talking unto Cydipe when she entered: Zenocrite addressing herself to Lycaste, I have brought Arpalice back unto you (said she unto her) because I would not lose the compliment you owe me, for bringing her back so fair and sprightly, after I had her from you so melancholy and sick: for I assure you (said she craftily) if every one be of my mind, they will confess with me that she was never fairer, no not when her Picture was taken, which was sent unto Menecrates, and which he lost unto Thrasimedes. I beseech you, Madam (said Menecrates unto Zenocrite, with as much impudence as shame) do not so sharply twit me, for losing a Picture which by your own confession did not perfectly resemble Arpalice, since she is fairer now than she was at that time; and to tell you truly, I did it rather to publish her beauty then to wrong it, when I put her Picture into the hands of one who traveled. I assure you (said Arpalice, with as much fury as a beauty could sparkle) that though Thrasimedes were not half so complete a man as he is, yet I should think my Picture better in his hand then yours: For I am more obliged unto him who had a desire to win my Picture, then unto him who will venture to lose it. I cannot well justify myself in that (replied Menecrates, extremely ashamed) I am persuaded (replied Zenocrite) that you will be more puzzled to justify yourself in private then in public, and if your case were mine, I would never go about it. If he did (said Arpalice) it would be in vain. I had better than take the counsel which is given me (replied he.) You had need of that counsel, and more (replied Zenocrite) and went away. I thank you for yours (replied Menecrates, and presented his hand unto her to conduct her unto her Coach) being glad to be out of that place where he was so none plused: And though he stood in much fear of Zenocrite, yet he had rather she should chide him a thousand times in private, then to be twitted so in public. After he had done his civilities unto Zenocrite, he returned unto the company, which was not now so terrible unto him, since Zenocrite was out of it: yet he durst not come near Arpalice, for his behaviour unto Cydipe during her absence, did extremely perplex him. But since he had eyes subtle enough to see that Arpalice was a thousand times fairer than ever he saw her; and since she perceived he did observe it, she was very glad of it, thinking she could not have a more noble way of revenge, then to let him see, she was not worthy of so much scorn he had of her: also she received all the applauds and commendations of her beauty with great joy, and I much wondered when I saw her admit of all extollings of her beauty with so much delight; and she set herself out more to spite the Lover whom she hated, then to please the Lover whom she loved. Thrasimedes was no loser by it, and it may be said, that she recompensed him, purposely to punish Menecrates. Thrasimedes was so much in favour with her, that he had continual private conference with her. In the mean time, it being late, all the company went from Lycastes chamber, but not all alike satisfied: for much difference was between the satisfaction of Thrasimedes and Menecrates. The last of these finding Arpalice so fair and charming, that he was ashamed of his behaviour towards her: yet since he looked upon her as one whom for all this he should marry, his care was only to know how he should carry himself between Cydipe and Arpalice: But the next morning he changed his mind; for a friend of his coming to see him, and beginning to discourse upon the present condition of his soul, he understood by him, that Thrasimedes came into my chamber with Arpalice, without any company but Philistion and myself, who had appointed that day, that all my servants should say I was not within, and he was by several circumstances so fully satisfied, that there was a correspondency between them, that he began to hate Thrasimedes, and to lessen his love unto Cydipe, also to love Arpalice a little more; and resolved neither to lose her estate, nor herself, his love of Cydipe was rather a fancy then a real passion, what ere she thought; and you must know, that Menecrates being fully persuaded in four or five days that Thrasimedes was in love with Arpalice, that he was not hated, but that himself was, h● grew extremely vexed, and spoke not unto Cydipe as before: but in the first place, in lieu or winning Arpalice by his services, he summoned Parmenides to perform his promises, in executing the Last Will and Testament of his Father and Mother, who ordained him to marry Arpalice. In the mean time, Parmenides, who had a particular interest, not to satisfy Menecrates, told him, that he had conference with all those who had any power over his Sister; and not to let slip such a fit opportunity, he asked his Sister in marriage. For my part, said Menecrates, I freely give you all the power I have. Parmenides answered the same for as much as concerned Arpalice. Thus they did both of them dispose of that which was not in their power: And I assure you, they quickly found it: for as soon as Parmenides spoke unto Arpalice, she told him, that she would not think of any marriage matters so soon: yet she would not absolutely tell him, she would never marry Menecrates, because she knew him to be very imperious, and might have occasion to accuse her, if she declared she would nor fulfil the Will of her Father, therefore she told him only, that she would take some time to resolve upon it, choosing rather to tell Menecrates his doom then her Brother: But when Parmenides saw he could not prevail with her, he told her of his affection unto Cleoxene, conjuring her to take it into her consideration. Unto this she answered, that since all her amity could not make her change her thoughts of Menecrates, he might think also, that Cleoxene would not be ruled by her Brother, and so his happiness or misery depended upon Cleoxene, and not upon Menecrates. After this Parmenides did still importune her a long time, and Arpalice resisted; and so not yielding unto each other, each of them were left unto themselves. On the other side, Menecrates solicited for Parmenides unto Cleoxene, who continuing in her indifferency, desired him to believe, that the same humour which caused his disingagement, kept her from engaging herself: so that she did not refuse Parmenides in particular, but all men in general, conjuring him to solicit her no more concerning Marriage: So that neither Parmenides nor Menecrates could give each other any good account of their Loves: and well may I say of their Loves, dear Doralisa; for I assure you, as soon as Menecrates imagined that he should not marry Arpalice, he fell desperately in love with her: So that he ranked himself in the quality of professed, and not declared Lovers, as Zenocrite defined them, and as she soon perceived it; and I think she was one of the first that published it to the world. As for Arpalice, she was both sad and glad: For she was glad Menecrates loved her, to the end she might be revenged of him; but her fears lest some quarrel should arise between Thrasimedes and Menecrates made her sorry: As for Cydipe, I am persuaded that Menecrates made her always believe, he had no intentions to marry Arpalice, but only to show it was not long of him, to the end he might enjoy her estate in case she refused Marriage. In the mean time Thrasimedes was not without his share of perplexity, to see how Menecrates changed his mind concerning Arpalice; so that there was none who were happy but Philistion and myself: The cause of our happiness was, because we had so much esteem and affection unto each other, as to please, and speak freely of every thing, and because we were not so deeply in love as to disquiet ourselves: So that keeping within the just limits of amity, we laughed at the miseries of all others, except those of Arpalice and Thrasimedes, in which we were extremely concerned: But at last Menecrates, not being able to endure the severity of Arpalice, resolved to force her unto a private audience: In order to that, he addressed himself unto Parmenides to obtain his wish, and to carry him in the morning into Arpalices chamber, whilst she was dressing 〈◊〉 self: As for Parmenides he left him with her: So that seeing he could not be rid of Menecrates without hearing him, she gave him audience; but it was with such a sad countenance, and such anger in her eyes, that he had hardly power to speak: But yet the Beauty of Arpalice did so exasperated his passion, that it did at last augment his boldness: so that beginning to speak as soon as he saw her disposed to hear, Madam, said he unto her, before I complain of your severity unto all the world, I will take the honour to talk with you, and confess that I have merited your hatred and scorn; also profess, that I will endeavour fo● the future to be worthy of your esteem and affection. It is not my custom (replied she, carelessly) to be capable of any contrarieties; and therefore since I do hate you, you can hardly persuade me to esteem you. Since there is no impossibility in it (replied he) I will not despair, for I am fully resolved to give you most infallible testimonies of my love, such as I hope will work upon your heart: And truly, Madam, I am not the same Menecrates I was when you were a child; but I must confess unto my shame, that I did not then love you, and was a long while culpable: But now I have changed my thoughts, and am as much in love with you now, as I was indifferent before, and would it be just in you to treat me now, as when I did not love you? It is so improbable, replied she, that a man who hath scorned me all his life, even so far as to lose my Picture, can change his mind so soon, and pass from one extreme unto another, that I wonder you will offer to persuade me unto it. I have already told you, Madam, that I do not intend to justify myself for the time past, but I beseech you put a difference between the time of my guilt, and time of my innocency. When you have lived as long innocently (replied Arpalice sharply) as you have done culpably, I shall then consider whether I should punish or recompense you, and so equally forget both your injuries and your services, that I shall be all indifferency. Madam, said he unto her, if love were a passion which one could command when one will, than I should confess you had reason to upbraid me for not loving you from your cradle; but since it is not, and since it was the pleasure of the Gods that I should not love you until you became the most lovely beauty in the world, ought you to hate me for that? Thrasimedes (added he) whom perhaps you hate not so much as you do me, has not long known you, and could not love you until he did know you; and why I beseech you may you not look upon me as well as him? There is such a vast difference betwixt you and him (replied she very angrily) that I cannot look alike upon you: for without putting myself to the trouble of considering whether he love me or not, I am certain he hath not scorned me as you have done: But to make use of your own arguments, I will not accuse you for loving me till now, upon condition you will not accuse me that I can never love you hereafter. Hereafter, replied Menecrates, is not a thing which one can positively make answer for. I assure you (said she) if you can but promise me that you will not love me till death, I can promise to hate you as long as I live. However (said she) since by parting with part of my estate, I can be disengaged from you, I will throw it away upon you with joy; but I beseech you do not employ Parmenides, nor Meophiles, nor Lycastes brother, nor Lycaste herself to torment me, for all they can do shall not alter me: After this, Menecrates would have protested unto her, that he would never take any advantage of her Father's will, and that all his aims were at her; but she would not hear him any longer, telling him it was Church time, and that she would have him be gone; insomuch as indeed he was forced to go; but he went in a miscellany of sorrow, anger and love, that he could not forbear complaining unto all he met. In the mean time, one of Arpalices women, and one of mine, hearing Philistion called Arion, they thought that Arion was his right name, and that Philistion was but borrowed: so that they being of such an humour as was incapable of keeping any secrets, they told every one that this same Philistion, who they said was in love with me, was not a man of any fashion, but that he was the famous Musician who was so much cried up, and who could not be found all about the Town: so that these women telling it unto such as acquainted Menecrates with it the same day, he was so ill satisfied with Arpalice, he told it unto all the world, thinking it would anger both Thrasimedes, and me also; for he knew me to be one that stood upon terms of honour, and that this report would not please me. Thus in the compass of a day all the Town told one another, that Philistion was Arion, and all believed it, except four or five who knew the truth: yet Arpalice and I were the last that knew it: But at last Zenocrite told us, conjuring us to tell her the truth: As she was making this request, Philistion came in, who knowing what was reported of him, came laughing into Zenocrites Chamber where we were, and told us all he heard; but since Arpalice and I were nothing pleased with this report, because we feared some ill consequences, we could not choose but blush, so that Zenocrite believing some truth to be in these reports, began to press us very earnestly to confess the truth unto her. I know very well said she, that Philistion by his admirable air should be a man of quality, and that he hath an excellent spirit; but I know also Arion is no common Musician, he can compose verses rarely, and has seen so many gallant men, that I am persuaded he himself is one; and therefore if Philistion should be Arion, it is no dishonour unto him to tell it. Whilst Zenocrite was talking thus, Philistion made his heart ache with laughing, Arpalice and I also could not hold, maugre our anger: But at last Philistion, to let Zenocrite see he was not Arion, sent for a Harp which he played on before her, and afterwards sung; but it was long first, for his laughter would not let him. It was good sport to see how he strove that day to sing ill, that he might make it known he was not Arion; as much as he did to sing well in my Chamber to make us think that he was he: and indeed he sung so, that he left no suspicion that he was Arion: since Zenocrite could not possibly think he could so dissemble his voice, and therefore we were necessitated to confess the truth. But whilst we were talking of this adventure, Menecrates and Thrasimedes quarrelled: the first of these having told the other something which relished not, concerning the pretended Arion; so that going out together, they fought, and perhaps had killed each other had they not been parted; yet Thrasimedes had the better of it. This accident making a great noise, we quickly heard it at Zenocrites, and you may imagine how much Arpalice and Philistion were troubled at it: Philistion went out immediately to look his friend, who, they said, were both committed unto custody until they were friends. I shall not make any particular relation what talk this produced, let me only tell you, that Thrasimedes being exceedingly beloved, and all the world disliking that Arpalice should be forced to marry Menecrates, hose that stirred in this business, did equally oblige Menecrates and Thrasimedes to 〈…〉 ve quietly the one with the other, and that the one should not take it ill if the other courted 〈…〉 palace, who only was able to make them happy or miserable; and thus was the reconcile 〈…〉 〈…〉nt made up between them: yet Menecrates resisted it as well as he could, saying it was not 〈◊〉 they should permit Thrasimedes to pretend unto Arpalice: adding, that they were both engaged unto each other from their infancy. Unto which Thrasimedes answered, that having it from his own mouth at Apamea, that he did not love Arpalice, he had good reason to think he would no further sue unto her, and therefore he would not check that passion which her beauty had created in his heart: and the reasons which Thrasimedes urged being found reasonable, they were agreed upon the conditions aforesaid. But Philistion being not satisfied with what Menecrates said of him, about three days after they fought, and Philistion made it appear that he could use a sword better than a Harp, for he got the better, and gave a slight wound unto the other in the arm. These two Combats caused others also, for Parmenides and Lysias fell out concerning this business, and fought. Truth is, it was no wonder my Brother should come off with the honour, for in fight with Parmenides, he he knew him to be his Rival, but Parmenides knew not that Lysias was his indeed. Dear Doralissa, nothing was talked on for a month together but quarrels, which were caused by this imaginary Arion; but at last the storm being over, both Thrasimedes and Menecrates began openly to court Arpalice. Parmenides he was still deeply in love with Cleoxine, whilst Lysias was her Paramour. In the mean time, since Parmenides imagined that the more rigorous Arpalice was unto Menecrates, the less favourable would Cleoxine be unto him, he did extremely persuade her; Menecrates did no less unto Cleoxine, because she treated Parmenides no better: so that these two Brothers were intolerable torments unto their sisters, as if they had been imperious and crabbed Fathers, or capricious and jealous Husbands. Arpalice and Cleoxine took this persecution not alike, for Cleoxine cared not at all for it: but it was not so with Arpalice, for she endured the tyranny of Menecrates with intolerable impatience, so as I could not choose but pity her: I also had my share of perplexities, because Philistion continually pressed me to employ all the power I had with Arpalice, in favour of Thrasimedes: I knew very well that her inclination leaned that way; but Parmenides used such pressing solicitations against it, that she could not resolve upon it. As she was one day much troubled with the persecution of Parmenides, and as I much pitied her, I advised her to tell her brother, that she would willingly sacrifice herself for his sake, so it might do him service, but that she would not venture herself so far upon uncertainties of his good fortune; and that therefore she would engage herself to marry Menecrates, assoon as he had married Cleoxine, knowing well by my brother's intelligence, that it would never be. But in what a perplexity were I, (said Arpallice who was ignorant of the love between Lysias and Cleoxine) if my brother should marry the sister of Menecrates? I can assure you (said I unto her) he will never marry her: and after I had told her all I knew, she took my counsel, and told Parmenides accordingly, charging me to tell Thrasimedes, that it should not trouble him, if he heard any reports to his prejudice. In the mean time, Arpalice had no sooner told Parmenides that she would marry Menecrates assoon as he had married Cleoxine; but Parmenides the more to oblige Menecrates unto a pressing his Sister to be favourable unto him, told him what Arpalice said; so that Menecrates did double his persecution of Cleoxine, and importuned his sister much more than his Mistress. I forgot to tell you, how I had a design to do a good office unto my Brother, for I knew that Cleoxine had promised, if Menecrates did much press her, and would force her to marry Parmenides, she was then resolved to tell him the reason why she could not, and would then make Lysias happy; so that by this means, I should at once be serviceable unto Arpalice, Thrasimedes, Lysias, and Cleoxine, and should also oblige Philistion. On the other side, Cydipe, who doubtless did think Menecrates loved her, did continually advise Arpalice to prefer Thrasimedes before Menecrates. Thus every one having a hidden design, we were all put to our wits, especially when we were all together: Mean while, what assurance soever I gave Philistion, to give the same unto Thrasimedes, yet he could not move him to rest satisfied: he told me one day, that if Arpalice did not honour him so far as to give him some assurances of her affection, his friend would fall upon some violent resolution, and that his passion was too violent to be satisfied with trifles, and therefore she must at least give him some pleasing words. After this I pressed Arpalice (who came one day to see me because I was not well) to speak unto Thrasimedes as unto a man whom she loved. I pray you said I unto her, what great difficulty is in the business? why should you not give him such satisfaction, as will cost you only a few words? A few good words replied she, are of greater consequence than you imagine, yet I do not say that I will never give them: but if I be Mistress of my reason, I shall not give them till needs I must: for these few words 〈◊〉 speak of as a small matter, are yet the utmost limit that modesty or virtue allows: till they be spoke, the good or bad fortune of a lover is in the power of his Mistress; then is she his Mistress, he her slave; but when these few words are passed through the ear into the heart of a lover, then doth he expect some proofs of this affection, and asks it, not as a slave, but as due unto him, and so never asks it with submission: and therefore my deer Candiope, let me tell you once for all, that these few words which you would have me to speak unto Thrasimedes, seem to be so full of crime, that I dare not speak them, and therefore I declare unto you, that all I can say unto Thrasimedes is, that I desire he should continue loving me. And also at last, said I unto her, that you consent he should hope to be loved again. I assure you (said she, and both laughed and blushed) your capitulations are in vain, for it hath so fallen out very often, that I never told Thrasimedes any thing whiched I resolve to tell him: and on the contrary I have told him what I resolved not to tell him; and this is the reason why I avoid as much as I can speaking with him in private; for I must confess, that nothing in the world angers me more, than when I have been either more obliging, or more cruel than I would be. However, said I unto her, though you will not talk with Thrasimedes in private out of affection, yet do it out of prudence: For certainly at this time there is a necessity to make use of that power which you have over him, lest he should fall upon some violent and desperate course. Arpalice hearing me say so, though at first she was obstinate, yet at last yielded unto my desire, upon condition I would think she did it out of prudence, not affection; though she confessed if ever she affected any, it should be him: But the difficulty was, to find fit place of secrecy for conference; and Arpalice and I were both unaccustomed unto secret meetings, that we were both puzzled to construe it. I no sooner propounded one expedient, but Arpalice found a thousand difficulties in it: at her house, Lycaste and Cydipe were always there: in my chamber the adventure of Arion did thrive but badly: in a Church was all the world: So that she scrupled at all, though there was no crime in the matter: walk we could not without more company; and after a long reasoning upon it, we found no satisfaction in any place: But at last chance did that for us which our inventions could not. As we were thus in conference, one came to tell me that Thrasimedes and Philistion asked for me: At first Arpalice thought I had put a trick upon her, that I dissembled sickness purposely to make me come and see her, and that this was a compact between Thrasimedes and me: so that she would needs go away, and I would not let him enter until I had undeceived her. Well (said she to me) I shall not speak over obligingly this day unto Thrasimedes; perhaps it were better for him I went away. But for all that, I made her sit down; she would have sat upon my bed because least seen, and indeed she did so hide herself, that none but Thrasimedes could have known her; yet he did, and seemed beyond all measure joyed at the meeting. At first, talk was general, and Arpalice had so little share in it, that she hardly knew what we said: But Thrasimedes addressing his speech particularly unto her, and Philistion beginning to speak low unto me, the talk divided, and we were the best part of an hour without any interruption: I cannot give you an exact relation of the conference between Thrasimedes and Arpalice; for both of them told me severally afterwards, that they could not repeat it: All I know is, that Arpalice said she spoke over kindly unto Thrasimedes, and that she repented: and Thrasimedes told me that she gave him not one favourable word; yet he was satisfied, though he had no great reason for it, unless he thought he saw in the eyes of Arpalice maugre the darkness, a more obliging sweetness then before she used. However Arpalices went away the first, and would not let Thrasimedes wait upon her: She was no sooner gone, but Cleoxene came in, who according to her accustomed jollity, began to chide me for being in the company of two such Gallants, ask me if I had spent all the afternoon with them? whether we had any more to say? and whether she interrupted us? Hearing Cleoxene speak in this manner, in lieu of answering precisely, and telling her Arpalice had been there, I told her laughing, that there was no danger in interrupting a discourse of three persons, since it was likely many secrets would not be imparted: 'Tis true, said Cleoxene, and if all the world were of my mind, there should be fewer mysterious matters then there are. This is the reason I am always so indifferent, affecting rather to have no secrets in hand, then to run the hazard of hiding them, and cannot. Yet there are many things, replied Thrasimedes, which are very pleasing, and cannot be hid. Love is a passion so general, said Philistion, as it must needs be in the number of those things which cannot be long concealed. If ever I should be culpable of it (replied Cleoxene) I am confident none should perceive it. Then you would not love at all (replied Thrasimedes) On the contrary (replied she) I should love better than another. You would live then in an extreme constraint (said Philistion to her) No, answered she, I should be in less constraint than others who are so full of their gallantry. I must confess (said I) though I have no intentions to make use of your secret, yet I should be glad to know it. As Cleoxene was ready to answer, Lysias knowing she was in my chamber, came thither: presently after, Parmenides brought in Lycaste, and Cydipe: Menecrates also came in: But that which most amazed us was, that Zenocrite having met with Arpalice, who telling her I was sick, forced her to come back with her, the second time: So that when she came into my chamber, and not knowing I had kept her first visit from Cleoxene, she told me, to colour her second, that I was not obliged unto her for it, for she came more for Zenocrites company then for mine: My hope was at first, that Cleoxene would not remember how she asked me, whether I had spent all the afternoon with Thrasimedes and Philistion, and that I did not tell her Arpalice was there. But these hopes lasted not long: for all the company rising up at Zenocrite and Arpalices entrance, she came unto me, and asked me, laughing, what pleasure I ●ook in concealing it from her? I assure you (said I unto her in a low voice) my intention was not to hide Arpalices being here from you, and you see she herself does not conceal it. It was because you had not well agreed upon it, replied she, and smiled: after which she returned to her place, and all the company being set, Philistion began the discourse where we left, when it was interrupted by the entrance of Lysias. Me thinks (said he) and looked upon Cleoxene, that you ought to impart a great secret unto Candiope when Lysias came in. 'Tis true, said she, but it must be in private, and not in public. Zenocrite not being accustomed to let things be talked of in her presence which she understood not, did press to know it, and so urgently, that though it was the greatest secret of Cleoxenes life, yet she resolved to speak as confidently as if it were a thing only to help out discourse: So that after a relation of what had been said before Lysias came in, Gleoxene went on, and asked whether she was in the right, when she said, those who meddle with matters of Gallantry, without cunning enough to hide it, have not more pains than pleasure, and do not deserve a faithful Lover. For truly, said she, if there be any sweets in love, I conceive it must be when one is loved and loves, and it is not known unto any, because than one is not exposed to envy, nor detraction, nor to the displeasure of seeing jealous Rivals quarrel and fight: But one does quietly enjoy an empire which is not molested by any thing; such do know all that others know; but others know not what they know: and I am persuaded it is with love as with fire, the more it is enclosed, the better it is kept; and indeed, do you not see, that those loves which none are ignorant of, do evaporate, and quench in a short time? All the World do so talk of it for a while, that the Lovers themselves do insensibly forget to talk of it: Judge then, I pray, whether two who are in love, and keep their affections close from all the world but themselves, be not more happy than others? Doubtless they are, replied Zenocrite: But what would you have this close Lover do? and how can he hide it, if he do all that is requisite in love? What becomes of that multitude of things which they say are inseparable from that passion? For my part I am an enemy unto these declared Lovers, and think them so ridiculous, that I am persuaded there is a mean between those you speak of, and them: For if you take away sighs and sorrows, vexations, fears, jealousies, and raptures of joy, cares to please and divert alterations in countenance, magnificence and liberality from a Lover, you take away all things that can express his affection, and all that can render him agreeable. No, no, replied Cleoxene, a concealed Lover is not such a one as you describe; he sighs, but it is in secret, he mourns, but it is not because none understands it but his Mistress; he has his vexations, but he dissembles them; he is jealous, but it is only as much as augments love, and not quench it; he has his raptures of joy, but they are in secret; he has a most diligent care to please his Mistress, but his diligence appears only unto her, since it is her pleasure she should hide his passion: And as for liberality and magnificence, since they are virtues which may appear in all brave men, and are not confined only unto Gallantry, he may be liberal and magnificent in a hundred things and occasions which relate not unto love; and by consequence this close Lover may use them without any discovery of his passion: In the mean time he enjoys a treasure which none does envy, because none thinks he enjoys it. Whilst Cleoxene was talking thus, I durst not so much as look upon my brother, or Arpalice, and Lysias durst not look upon Cleoxene or me: as for her, since she was fully persuaded, that none knew the correspondency between Lysias and herself, she spoke with as much confidence and boldness, as any disinterested neutral, or indifferent person could: And indeed, Parmenides, who had so much interest in her as to observe her narrowly, did not think her to be capable of any light kind of amity, therefore was far from thinking her possessed with a violent passion: So that esteeming himself more happy in having a lukewarm Mistress, whom he thought loved him as well as any, then to be like Menecrates whom Arpalice loved less than she did Thrasimedes, he gave a pleasant audience unto Cleoxene: As for Menecrates and Thrasimedes, they hardly heard what was said, for their thoughts were all taken up with looking upon Arpalice, who neither looking upon him whom she loved not, lest she should please him too much, nor upon him whom she loved, lest her looks should be censured, she gave an attentive audience unto Cleoxene and Zenocrite, who held all the discourse that day; and continued it a long time with variety of pleasant things: Yet towards the end, every one began to speak of other business, and talked what they thought good, except Menecrates, who could not speak one word in private with Arpalice. As for Cleoxene, she spoke low unto Lysias, and none took notice of it; and she had the pleasure to see her passion so closely carried, that Parmenides himself took it no worse that Lysias could talk with her, then with any other: And since she could not choose but laugh when she spoke to Lysias, to see how handsomely she deceived the world, Parmenides desired his private Rival to tell him what she laughed at: You may imagine how this pleased Cleoxene; but as for Cydipe, I believe she was not so well satisfied: at last the conversation ended, and since Cleoxine had not forgotten what she apprehended of Arpalice, and since she laboured to persuade her brother, that he must never pretend unto Arpalice, to the end he should not press her to marry Parmenides, she told him that Arpalice had made two visits that day, and that the first was to meet Thrasimedes, telling him how she came to know it. I leave you to judge what operation this had upon the heart of Menecrates: Cleoxine did what she could to persuade him, to make good use of the knowledge he had that Thrasimedes was preferred before him, thereby to cure him of his affection unto Arpalice: But since he knew his sister did not love Parmenides, he thought upon serious considerations, that no great credit was to be given unto her words: therefore he referred it unto the next day, to know whether it was true that Thrasimedes and Philistion were a long time alone with Candiope and her, and when he found I spoke truth, he was extremely angry; and so much, that I can express it no better then by telling you, that he was in a mind never to love Arpalice again: so that not consulting any longer whether he should quash his passion or not, he began to speak unto Zenocrite concerning Arpalices visits, as an appointed meeting with Thrasimedes, declaring openly, that he would no longer molest the pleasures of Arpalice, nor ever think of her again. Zenocrite hearing Menecrates say so, was very much perplexed, for she wondered Arpalice should appoint a meeting with Thrasimedes, and on the other side she was glad to see, that as long as Menecrates his anger lasted, Arpalice would be freed from him, and at liberty to make Thrasimedes happy; yet since she knew Arpalice loved her reputation above her private satisfaction, she would justify her, and therefore told Menecrates, that this which he called an appointment, was but a casual accident; but least in justifying Arpalice she should revive the love of Menecrates, which seemed extinguished, she added, that being his friend, she thought herself obliged to tell him, that it was a gross inconsideration in him to think of ever marrying a woman whom he had so extremely slighted; as for her part she verily believes him to be past all hopes of ever obtaining her love, & therefore it 〈◊〉 much better both for himself and Arpalice to let her alone, & trouble himself no forth 〈…〉 & indeed Zenocrite being very eloquent, she made such good use of Menecrates his anger, that she fully persuaded him to think no more of Arpalice, so that without more delay, she engaged him to give her commission to tell Parmenides of it, Menecrates conjuring her to assure him, that this should be no hindrance unto him concerning his Sister. Menecrates was no sooner gone, but she sent for Parmenides, to tell him that Menecrates had no more thoughts of Arpalice, but that he was ready to do him any good office unto Cleoxine. Parmenides hearing this, was in a bitter chafe against Arpalice: and his reason was, because he thought that now he would be more slack in his solicitations of Cleoxine: so that leaving Zenocrite, he went to Arpalice, and intended to give her a very bitter lecture, afterwards he went unto Menecrates to tell him it was now full time to press Arpalice unto marriage with him; but since he was yet in his violency of anger and jealousy, he thanked him for his offer, and assured him once more, that he would be more close in his business to Cleoxine, then hitherto he had, though he do not now pretend any thing unto Arpalice. Thus Cleoxine thinking to rid herself from trouble, did augment it. But I beseech you admire a little at the fantastical fate of things: that which could not be obtained neither by Thrasimedes nor Lycias, did fall upon these two lovers by reason of the violence which Arpalice and Cleoxine endured through the tyranny of their brothers: for Arpalice seeing herself so unjustly tormented, resolved to confess unto Thrasimedes, that she would love him, upon condition he would attempt nothing either against Menecrates or Parmenides: & Cleoxine, who had made such a mysterious secrecy of her affection to Lycias, resolved also to confess ingenuously, that having neither Father nor Mother, she thought herself unblamable, if she followed her own inclination in marrying Lysias, whom she had long loved; and indeed she told Menecrates as much, who not being able to find any fault with her choice, either in his condition or person, he blamed her only for her secrecy; yet adding, that since he had passed his word unto Parmenides, he could not recall it, and therefore if she married Lysias, it should be without his consent. In the mean time, Arpalice, who could not endure the reports of her appointed meeting, since it was untrue, resolved to make it known that their meeting was by accident, not appointed; and indeed made it apparent: so that Menecrates finding his anger was unjustly grounded, it ceased, and he went unto Arpalice that very same hour, whom he found alone. You may easily imagine she was not a little astonished to see Menecrates at her feet, whom she thought had for ever desisted her company: Indeed she was so surprised, that she had not power to hinder him from speaking and ask pardon: 'tis true, it may be said, that though she was a while silent, yet it was to speak unto with him more anger: For he had no sooner spoke what he thought fit to obtain his Pardon, but she was as sharp as possible could be, and charged him never to see her again: and the truth is, she forced him away. As for Parmenides, it was not with him as with Menecrates; for as soon as he knew, that there had been a long concealed affection between Cleoxene and Lysias, he thought no more upon her; but to retaliate generosity for generosity unto Menecrates, he assured him, that he would hinder the Marriage of Thrasimedes with Arpalice. Thus in lieu of former promises of marrying each others Sisters, they now promised only that they should not marry their Rivals. This being the juncture of affairs, Thrasimedes received news, that his father was sick of a long, but mortal disease, & commanded him to come immediately unto him. Imagine how great his sorrow was, not only because his Father was in danger of death, but that he should be so far off Arpalice, at a time when his presence was so requisite in Lycia. But to abbreviate my story, be pleased to know, that before his departure, Philistion and I so pressed Arpalice, that at last she promised unalterable fidelity unto Thrasimedes, who was extremely sorry to part from her: and Philistion being also to return, he departed with him; expressing more affection to me at parting then I thought he had: You may easily imagine that the absence of Thrasimedes was as pleasing unto Menecrates, as it was sad unto Arpalice: 'Tis true, she treated him so sharply, that he got no advantage by it, but only a riddance of a Rival. In the mean time, Cleoxene seeing she could not obtain the consent of her Brother, did marry mine, after an assembly of many friends, who liked her choice: So that there was an end unto all Parmenides his hopes, and desires; nor did Menecrates see his Sister since: 'Tis true he was never in the same place with her: for you must know that Lycaste having some business unto Sardis, went thither a few days after the departure of Thrasimedes, and the marriage of Cleoxene: So that Parmenides being willing to be far from her, and Lycaste desiring him to go this journey with her, he came to Sardis with her, with Cydipe, and Arpalice. For my part, since my Father's Mother was in Sard 〈…〉 was glad to find an opportunity of such good company. Thus came we all unto Sardis▪ leaving Menecrates in Lycia: But at parting, Arpalice, and I writ unto Thrasimedes and Philistion, to acquaint them where we were, and that we should not hazard any Letters in our absence, which was like to be long; and we came to Sardis a little before the beginning of the War; yet we could not believe that Cyrus would be so forward in the Siege of that Town. Thus for a time were we without any trouble, but Menecrates followed after us: You may well imagine how his journey angered Arpalice; and though she treated him as sharply as possible, yet did he not alter his design of being where she was. Moreover, since the business of Lycaste could not be quickly dispatched, we must have patience. The greatest of our perplexity was, that every day we heard of the progress of Cyrus, and that his Army approached, Lycaste then thought upon return, but was prevented by a sickness, which caused her to keep her bed until Sardis was besieged. Then you must know, that Menecrates thinking the reputation he had got in the War would move Arpalice to treat him better, he did so signal himself, that Croesus and the King of Pontus obliged him to take upon him a very considerable command: So that when we through your favour came out of Sardis, he durst not ask leave to follow us; for as things were, he knew Croesus would not give it. However, not being able to abide in a besieged Town, not only because his Mistress was out, but also because doubtless he apprehended that Thrasimedes was before the Town, he leapt over the ditch to follow him. The adventure was more rare, because Thrasimedes knowing we were in the Town, was taken the same day by the men of Cyrus as he attempted to get into the Town. After this, I beseech you judge, whether it do not merely concern your fair Cousin, that you should know all I have told you, to the end you may move Cyrus to reconcile these two Rivals, to end all their differences, and let Arpalice marry Thrasimedes. One thing hath happened which may facilitate the Marriage, which is, that Parmenides to comfort himself for the loss of Cleoxene, doth look upon Cydipe, who perhaps will admit of his affection, seeing she cannot obtain the love of Menecrates as she thought: So that I am confident Parmenides will consent that Thrasimedes marry Arpalice.  
Candiope having ended her story, Doralisa did assure her, that she would write a Letter unto Andramites (though she did not use to do such favours unto any) which should move him to negotiate so with Cyrus, as that this happiness of Thrasimedes should be so established, as nothing could molest it. Then did she craftily ask her, whether Philistion was in the Town; for methinks (said she, and smiled) that since he came out with Thrasimedes, he should be with him. I assure you (replied Candiope, and both blushed, and laughed) I should have thought so also; but since I did only see Thrasimedes, I could not inquire of him; and to tell you both truly and sincerely, the friendship that is between Philistion and me stands upon such terms, that whensoever I see him, I must accuse him of infidelity, for there being no promises between us, but to esteem each other as long as we live; I have reason to think that he may do the same for me wheresoever he is, that I do now for him. As Doralissa was ready to reply, she was told that Lycaste, Arpalice, Cydipe, Cleoxine, and all the other prisoners were come from the Princess Araminta, and were returned every one to their own Chambers by another way then which they intended, and which they yet knew not; so that Candiope went to find out Lycaste, and left Doralissa at liberty, to write unto Andramites; though it was something against her mind, yet she used such phrases, as though her letter was long, he could not find one word which spoke any advantage unto him: for Doralissa hinted at nothing but according to her friends intentions concerning Thrasimedes and Menecrates; but as good luck for him was, the servant who carried the Letter did not find him in a condition to make any long reflection upon the rigour of Doralissa; for having in hand some great important business concerning Cyrus, he only writ two words unto Doralissa, that he would most punctually obey her, after which, he went unto this Prince, and assoon as he was in his Tent, Cyrus asked him, whether the predictions of the Telmissians unto the first King of Lydia, were true? that if he caused a Child which the Gods had given him to be carried round about the Walls of Sardis, the Town should be impregnable in all places where he could pass? This beliete is so generally received, replied Andramites, that I cannot choose but wonder at the general revolt which is amongst the inhabitants of Sardis, who seem so confident in the strength of their Walls, that they never trust unto the promises of their Gods, but when the danger is far off and not likely to happen: For I remember when news came to Sardis that you had taken Babylon, I heard many men of courage say, that their Town was happy in not being exposed to that danger; and that is was under the protection of the Gods assoon as it was built: Yet I remember I heard say at the same time, that the first King of Lydia, who received this odd command from the Gods, for so it seemed unto those who consider not, that it is the way of the Gods to bring great things to pass by small means, and to hide their intentions from the sons of men, had made the situation of Sardis so, that the Walls and this Child could not be carried round, but the place where he could not be carried, is so inaccessible of itself, that there needed no greater security than nature itself had given unto it; and it is on that side where yet you never made an assault, and which seems so inaccessible, that though itself cannot reach it, also the Lydians keep such feeble guards there as it seems to trust to the strength of it. 'Tis true said Cyrus, I think they have reason to trust nature with the strength of that place, and need not fear the taking of Sardis in that place: yet there is a report amongst the soldiers, that there is a quarter of this Town where it may be taken, and that it is impregnable every where else: therefore it must needs be this you speak of (added he, and seemed not to neglect the advice of the soldiers) & you know how such things as these whether there be a possibility or not in them, yet they make deep impressions in the spirits of a multitude; & you know how despair does faint the hearts of soldiers, & what a ●error is struck into a great Army, when once they think the Gods are against them; therefore though I know the place you speak of be inaccessible, yet I will view it, and give out as if I approved of the advice which the soldiers give me: and accordingly the King of Assyria, Mazares, Sesostris, Tygranes, and Anaxares being come unto him, they all took horse as well as he, and were guided unto this place by Andramites, which the soldiers said was the only place to which must let them into Sardis, since the guard was weak on that side, Cyrus might view it with less danger; and those few Lydians who were upon the Walls did mock at those who looked upon that place of their Town; yet they shot many arrows, though they imagined they would do no execution, by reason of the excessive height of the Rock where they stood: Also Cyrus had erected a little sconce on that side, to umbrage his men when they came to view that place which struck terror into all beholders; for it was a great sharp rock, so steep that it was terrible to behold, and where it was not imaginable any could go except Goats; upon the top of this Rock were walls so low that the soldiers might lean over them; and which indeed was rather a bare Parapet then a wall; the pass over the Ditch there, was not very difficult, but the Rock was so steep and high, that the Mountain Tmolus which was over against it, was not more inaccessible: Also all the Princes which looked upon it, and had 〈◊〉 it before, would never have taken so much pains as to view it the second time, but only because they would not seem to despise the advice of the soldiers; yet Cyrus knew it more prudence to attempt a hundred vain offers, then to neglect one that was necessary, and therefore he looked upon this steep sturdy Rock more seriously than any of the rest; and as he was in deep contemplation of it, an accident chanced which persuaded him, Sardis might be taken: It chanced that a Lydian Soldier being upon the wall, and looking over the Parapet, let his Helmet fall, which tumbled down the Rock to the bottom of the ditch; the soldier was very angry for the loss of his Helmet, especially because his companions jeered him; and therefore he tried if he could get down and fetch it, just whilst Cyrus was in the S●once looking upon this Rock, who seeing the Soldier descend, showed him with wonder unto the rest of his company, and observed him very attentively, but they saw him more like a man who would rather precipitate himself, than one that would ever come down; yet they were amazed, when they saw by degrees turning and winding, he came down: 'Tis true he made many stops to choose steps, but at last he always found them; and Cyrus took notice that the Rock was full of wild grasse-tufts which kept the Soldier from slipping: So that descending sloping from tuft to tuft, he came at last to his Helmet, and took it up with joy, beginning to ascend the same way he descended, and to go up more easily than he came down, because the precipice did not so much affright him. Cyrus' admiring this wonderful accident, told the King of Assyria, that since this Soldier could ascend this Rock, a hundred thousand might do the same: So that diligently observing the way he took, they took such good notice of it by certain yellow Flowers which grew there accidently, that they were regular marks unto their eyes: Cyrus took a Table-book out of his pocket, and drew this Rock so plainly, that the way which this Soldier went was evident to his eye: so that he did not doubt of the taking of Sardis. The King of Assyria, and Mazares were as confident as he: Sesostris also hoped by this way to find his dear Timarcta; and Andramites was persuaded by this descending and ascending of this Soldier, that the predictions of the Gods were true: As for Anaxaris, he did not oppose the intentions of Cyrus, but he thought it so difficult, that he could not hope for any happy success in the attempt. After they had descanted upon the enterprise, they returned to finish their resolves, with the advice of other Princes in the Army of Cyrus; and to attempt this enterprise, the great difficulty was, that they knew not how to mount this Rock, neither by day, nor night that was dark: for by day they would be discovered, and easily repulsed; and by night it was hard to hit so dangerous a way: But since Cyrus had a soul of a vast capacity, and in a moment could see all things that made an enterprise either feasible or impossible: He considered that the Moon was at the full, and not rising till the Sun was set, she would shine to help them in climbing the Rock; he knew well, that if she shined so much as to let them see, she would also let them be seen, but he knew also, that in all great enterprises of War, something must be put to hazard. Also Andramites did so assure him, that slight guards were kept on that side, as without delay he resolved to give three Alarm assaults the night following, on the side furthest off the place where he intended the true one, whilst Cyrus in the head of five hundred men, and all the brave men of his Army, would go, and either the climb the Rock or die, not being able to suffer, that a common Soldier should do more for his Helmet, than he would do for Mandana. In the mean time, since he conceived it impossible to bring so many men up that way, as were sufficient to take the Town: His design was to carry up so many only as might make him Master of the next Port, and there to let in the Body of his men, and in order to that, he appointed a Body of Infantry, and another of Cavalry to be in readiness near that Port, unperceived by the Lydians, giving a sign when they should advance and enter: And indeed this Prince gave out all orders, as if he were assured his enterprise would take effect; and also he gave all requisite orders in case it should fail: He made choice of the soldiers who were to follow him, and appointed them all to carry Pike-staves in their hands, to lean upon them in climbing the Rock, and to fight with them when they were up, having no other Arms for this expedition but a light Buckler, a Sword, and a Pikestaff, which was to serve for several uses. In the mean time, since the life of Cyrus was exceedingly precious, the Kings of Phrygia, and Hyrcania, who were to give these Alarms, did what they could to hinder this Prince from this attempt in his person; or at least to dissuade him from being the first in climbing this Rock: But he was so persuaded the enterprise would fail, if he did not execute it himself; and so confident it would prosper if he did, that it was impossible to make him change his opinion. Chrisantes made use of that freedom which he ever used with him, to qualify that heroic heat which for the love and glory of Mandana did so often precipitate him into danger, he would persuade him, that the enterprise would prosper better, if he would let his soldiers climb first; but he answered, that he was persuaded his soldiers would climb better if they followed him, then if he followed them; and therefore he was firmly resolved not to change his opinion. Cyrus' passed over all that day with abundance of impatience: And the King of Assyria with as much, and Sesostris no less. Mazares, though he was out of all hopes of ever being happy, yet did most earnestly desire the liberty of Mandana, as if she had loved him. But the hour of acting this enterprise being come, and all things in readiness for the execution, Cyrus cheered up the Soldiers which followed him; and promised such large recompenses, if the design prospered, that though they had been but half valiant, the very prize before their eyes was enough to set an edge upon their courages, and exasperate their valour. He gave them three things principally in command: First, to follow him, and do as he did: Secondly, not to speak one word as they climbed: and thirdly, never to look behind them, lest the terror of the precipice should astonish them. After this, Cyrus would gladly have moved the King of Assyria to march only in the middle of the Soldiers who were to follow him, but do what he could, he would be the second: So that Anaxaris was put in the middle of that File which was to climb; and Tigranes to be last, to prevent any from recoiling: Sesostris, Phraartes, Persodes, Andramites, Feranlus, Ligdamis, Leontidas, and all the Heroes dispersed themselves amongst the first hundred Soldiers which followed Cyrus, to encourage them by their example. All things being then ready, Cyrus with all his men one by one went down the ditch, by a tract which was not very difficult; first carefully observing the plot which he had drawn of the Rock, that he might the better remember the tract he was to hold in climbing: And it seemed that he had both well observed, and remembered it; and though the Moon did shine but dimly, yet it was enough to discover the yellow flowers, which were directions unto them; and though he saw some difference in the colour of them by this gloomy light, yet he began to mount, climbing neither too softly, lest he should slip, nor too fast, lest his Soldiers could not follow; still striving to remember the way which the soldier took who fetched his Helmet: and he hit it so well, and led them up so happily, that he got to the midst of the Rock without any noise, or any stop; so that beginning to hap well in the enterprise, and being desirous to judge of that which he had to climb, by that which he had already past, he turned his head, and notwithstanding the obscurity of the night, did plainly see the long File which followed, every soldier his leader, and which reached to the bottom of the ditch; but as he observed them, he heard a great noise upon the top of the Rock; indeed it was the Lydians who were walking their round: Cyrus hearing this stopped, and lay close to the Rock to prevent discovery; and according to his orders of imitation, he who was next him did the same, and so every one to the end of the File did imicate his leader, and stirred not a jot till Cyrus thought fit to march: But, alas, how full of sad thoughts was this Prince when he imagined his design discovered, and perhaps all the Defenders of Mandana ready to perish; yet his consolation was to see, that if he perished, the King of Assyria who was next him, would perish also; for of all his Rivals he could least endure him, though he esteemed him very much: But his fears of being discovered by those that went the Round, were needless: For they thought that place so inaccessible, that they never did use to visit it, only went by it as a pass from one Port unto another. Cyrus when he heard no more noise, but all quiet, he began to climb again with more haste than before, and also with more hopes, thinking to get unto the top of the Rock, and to become Master of the Work behind the Parapet before their enemies came another Round; and indeed he did so: for happily getting up to the top of the Rock, he, and all that followed him, went over the Parapet, drew their swords, and made ready to fight: he was also so happy as not to be discovered by any Century: Also to facilitate his design, and according to his orders, the King of Phrygia, and the King of Hyrcania, seconded by Gobrias and Gadates, gave false Alarms on the other side to amuse the enemy: So that the Lydians being all gone to that side, Cyrus had leisure enough to pass his men unperceived. After Cyrus had left a hundred of his men to guard the same place he came from, that he might make good his retreat in case that he could not become Master of the Port, he marched on in the head of four hundred of his men, and so surprised the first Sentinels that he killed them before that they could give the Alarm; and passing on, he came to the Court of Guard which was kept at the Gate which he desired to become Master of: He surprised them and fell on so sharply, and suddenly, that they had not time to draw their swords and die with Arms in their hands: Yet there was a few which fought stoutly: but at last, the valour of Cyrus, seconded by the King of Assyria, Mazares, Sesostris, and the rest of the Gallant men, did overcome them, and cut them all in pieces: when Cyrus was become Master of the Gate, and the Troops who were commanded to enter, had the sign which was made unto them; they hastily advanced, and entered Sardis, just as Croesus (who was advertised that the Enemy was within the Town) sent forces to regain what had been lost, imagining that the Gate was traitorously delivered up by some of his men, and never suspecting that Cyrus came up by the Rock. In the mean time, the Troops of Cyrus being entered, and horses being brought for all the Grandees, they mounted them: after which, Cyrus being now in the head of the Cavalry, he did vigorously repulse all that opposed his passage; he endeavoured to get a great place which was between the Palace of Croesus and the Citadel: Commanding the Troops as they entered, to make good the principal streets and public places, but above all things, to keep the Gate at which they entered. In the mean time, the false Alarms continued, which amused one part of the Enemies: Never was such a confusion as amongst the Lydians. All the soldiers that were off their Guards, would have gotten whither their duty called them, but could not possibly, because the streets were already possessed by Cyrus. The Inhabitants were so frighted, that they never thought of either Barracading their streets, or coming out of their Houses. The women made lamentable screeks: The clashing noise of Arms echoed from all sides; The different noise of Conquerors, and conquered, filled the air with variety of sounds: But Croesus having at last assembled some soldiers, opposed Cyrus, who after that, got not one corner of a street without fight for it: The other Troops which had orders to possess other quarters of Sardis, met with resistance in several places: In this great confusion one might see in several places, wo●en crowd into the Temples: into other places, some that were desperate, would throw all that they had out of the windows, to qualify their Enemies: Indeed, the disorder was so great, the Tumult so terrible, and terror so universally struck, both into the hearts of the Lydian Soldiers, and also into the Inhabitants, that they were at their wits ends. Croesus, in so great a disorder had no way left but to endeavour his retreat into the Citadel with the Prince Myrsiles; to the end he might make such a Capitulation as at least might secure his person; and not doubting but since he had Mandana in his power, he could atleast obtain his liberty: This unfortunate King, did extremely wonder that the King of Pontus never came at him, all the time of this great disorder; yet upon consideration that his love of Mandana caused him to keep the Citadel, he thought it less strange. Seeing then that Sardis was lost: That his Enemies were masters of all the principal streets: That almost all the Ports of the Town, were quitted by his men, and were in the power of Cyrus: He did retire, as I told you into the Citadel. But since the first design of Cyrus was to get between the Citadel, and the Palace of Croesus, to the end he might take this unfortunate King, he effected it so well, that he cut off his way: and there it was that the Combat was hotly disputed: The approach of the Sun, having dimmed the light of the Moon, all manner of objects might visibly be discerned, and one might know another; So that the Lydians fight in the presence of their King, both for his life and liberty, did things beyond belief. The Prince Myrsiles, though dumb, yet his acts did merit eternal memory, but as valiant as they were, all were not able to resist the invincible Cyrus; who fought under the walls of the Citadel, with the heart he did at Sinope under that Tower which the flames of fire were ready to consume, and in which he thought to find his Princess, being no less valiant under the name of Cyrus, than he was under that of Artamenes. At least I am sure of this (said he in himself in the midst of the Tumult) I have this advantage, that I am sure I shall release Mandana, if I be victorious: For my rival has no Galley, to carry her away in, as Mazares had, nor can the Sea favour his flight: But whilst Cyrus did envigorate his valour by his sweet hopes, Croesus intending to charge through the midst of his Enemies, which opposed his passage, to the end he might get into the Citadel, got into the front of his men; repulsing all those that assaulted him with incredible valour: Indeed he rushed so amongst them, that he was compassed about; The Prince Myrsiles seeing him so engaged, came to relieve him: but before he was able to get to him, he saw a Persian Soldier, whilst Croesus was defending himself, ready to kill him behind, having his sword already lifted up to run him through. The Prince Myrsiles seeing the King his father was ready to be killed, and he not able to help it, was sensible of so sad an apprehension, and straining to cry out with all his force, his tongue unloosed, and this Prince who never spoke before, did speak to save the King his father's life; he no sooner saw this action of the Soldier, but striving with extraordinary violence, he cried out, Soldier spare the King: this voice which was as plain as loud, penetrating the ears of that Persian, did stop his lifted up arm, and made him change his intentions of killing this Prince, into a design only of taking him a Prisoner: But there was no great difficulty in that; for Cyrus coming up just as this prodigy happened, did find all the Lydians who heard the Prince Myrsiles speak, so amazed, that there was much less difficulty in taking both the King, and the Prince his Son: Also Croesus seeing no hopes, thought it better to render himself, then to be taken in a vain resistance. So that this unfortunate King turning towards Cyrus, and commanding the Prince his Son to cease fight and follow him, there was a Cessation of Arms on both sides: Then Croesus turned the point of his sword towards himself, and hilt to Cyrus, he presented it unto him, telling him, that since he was not able any longer to resist against the Conqueror of all Asia, he would submit, both himself, his Crown, and the victory unto him. Cyrus' hearing the King of Lydia say so, seemed much moved, and answered him in terms worthy of his Generosity. I receive your Sword (said he unto him, and took it) but it is with a promise to restore it as soon as you have restored unto me the Princess Mandana, and surrendered the Citadels wherein she is: Since I have surrendered myself Sir, said he unto him, you may imagine all in my power is yours. But Sir, I must tell you, that the King of Pontus is not in mine. Then Cyrus told him he would send immediately to summon him: after which Croesus and Myrsiles were committed unto the custody of Hidaspes, who carried them to their own Palace which was close by: and the sword of Croesus was put into the hands of Feraulus, with orders to restore it whensoever he should ask it: In the mean while, since Croesus had surrendered himself, there was no more fight in any part of the Town, but in houses which Soldiers would have Plundered: But Cyrus whose mind ran all upon the Citadel, would not let his Soldiers think of Pillaging this goodly Town, he sent Tigranes, Phraartes and Anaxaris to hinder them, and who accordingly did so: In the mean time, he who went unto the Citadel from Croesus, to bid the King of Pontus surrender it unto Cyrus, returned, and reported, that the Lieutenant Pactias, who was Governor told him, that provided he could see an order signed with the hand of Croesus, he would without resistance obey him. So that Cyrus procuring this order, he sent it, and commanded that the Soldiers should come out; and appointed also such Troops as should enter at the same time: Also he drew up a great body of Infantry, in the midst of the Plain which was between the Fort and the Palace of Croesus. As for Cyrus himself, he was in the head of a squadron of Horse, to view the Soldiers come out of the Citadel, and to see such as he appointed to enter; watching with great impatiency, until things were in such posture, as that he could enter himself, and have the glory of setting the Princess Mandana at liberty; also to let her know by this act, that her jealously was ill grounded. The King of Assyria, though he had many raptures of joy at his hopes to see Mandana, yet had he perplexities. I believe he did as much fear to see the meeting of Mandana and Cyrus, as he desired to see her at liberty: As for Mazares, though he had put on strong resolutions to hope for nothing, yet had he much ado to make his passion submit unto his reason: And at this time, he could not choose but envy the happiness, which Cyrus was going to take possession of: So that there was none but the unconquerable Cyrus, whose joys were pure, without any mixture of heart burnings: yet was he something astonished, that the King of Pontus did not all this while appear, nor look out of the Citadel, to make some terms for himself before he did surrender it: but he imagined him, bidding his last adieu unto Mandana; and that he would not believe Croesus to be taken, therefore neither ought nor would surrender the Fort: But when he saw all the Lydian Soldiers come out, he was full of unexpressible joy, and supposing the King of Pontus was with Mandana, he sent Hidaspes to release the Prince Artamas: The King of Assyria, Mazares, and Sesostris, followed him, the last of these being as impatient to see whether his dear Timareta was in the Citadel, as all the other Princes were to set Mandana at liberty. Chrisantes willing Cyrus' not to enter the Fort, until he saw the King of Pontus come out, but his caution could not keep Cyrus' one minute from the sight of his Princess: So that being spurred on by an impatience, proportionable to the heat of his love: and thinking that he had as many men with him as he had in the Citadel, he entered hastily into the Citadel, enquiring the way unto Mandana's Chamber: and having heard that the Princess Mandana, and the Princess Palates were together in the Prison, he asked if she were with her: a Soldier carried him unto a passage Chamber, which was common between both these Princess, and as he was showing him, which was Mandana's Chamber, and with the Princesses of Lydia, the Princess of Palmis came out of hers: but in lieu of her accustomed looks of joy, her eyes were all swelled with tears: But notwithstanding all her sorrows, she spoke unto Cyrus with as admirable a grace, as Cyrus did with generosity as soon as he entered into the Fort. Sir said she unto him, the Princess Mandana hath ever made me hope to find in you all the favour that can be expected from a generous Conqueror, therefore I shall not despair to obtain so much favour from your goodness as to be put in the same Prison with the King my father, that I may help him to support his chains. Cyrus, charmed with the virtue of this Lydian Princess, assured her that she was a Prisoner unto none but herself, and that he was extremely sorry that he forced to make war upon the King her Father: But Madam, said he unto her, I hope you will pardon me, if I conjure you to help me to break off the chains which fetter the Princess Mandana: As Palmis was going to answer, Sesostris saw the Princess Timareta enter, who having now no Guards upon her Chamber, came to desire the protection of Cyrus: The surprise of this Princess was so great, when she saw Sesostris; that she could not choose but cry out, so that this Prince going towards her, he presented his hand unto her with unconceivable joy, and then presented her unto Cyrus, just as the Princess Palmis was about to answer his question concerning Mandana. So that he was forced whether he would or no to receive the compliment of the Princess of Egypt, whose superlative beauty did attract the eyes of all beholders: he answered her most civilly, and she spoke with as much grace and elegancy as wit; but all his answers were very short, by reason of his impatiency to see Mandana, who he imagined would not appear by reason of her unjust jealousy. But he had no sooner answered Timareta, and told her she was more a debtor to the valour of Sesostris for her liberty then unto him, than the Prince Artamas entered with Sosicles and Tegeus, whom Hydaspes had released. Artamas not knowing whether he should first pay his thanks unto Cyrus, as his deliverer, or salute his Princess: or whether he should more rejoice at his liberty, or grieve for the imprisonment of Croesus, and being distracted between a Deliverer and a Mistress, Cyrus observed him; and being desirous to be rid of all that hindered him from seeing Mandana, he went unto Artamas, and presented him unto the Princess Palmis, telling her that he was as worthy of her, as she of him. But whilst Cyrus was thus engaged to entertain these two Princesses, before he went unto Mandana's Chamber, the King of Assyria had been there before him; and a servant opening the door unto him, he asked where Mandana and the King of Pontus were? he no sooner heard the answer, but he cried out, and so loud that Cyrus heard him; and fearing lest some sad accident had happened unto Mandana, he went towards him, without doing any civilities unto the Princess: what new fatality is now befallen us, (said he unto him?) The greatest that ever could (replied he, with such a fury in his eyes that struck to the heart of Cyrus) For Mandana is not here, the King of Pontus carried her away more than three hours before day: How, (replied Cyrus in a sad despair) is not Mandana here? oh Madam, (added he, and turned to the Princess of Lydia) why did you not tell me this sad news at the first? Alas Sir (said she unto him, in a great amazement) I could not tell you what I knew not: for the Guards would not suffer me to go unto Mandana's Chamber to comfort myself, all the while the horrible noise lasted which I heard in the Town: So that thinking the same severity was used unto her as me, I never suspected her flight: Also the danger wherein my own eyes saw the King my Father, and the Prince my brother, did so distract my imagination, that I thought upon nothing else, and therefore I knew nothing of Mandanaes' flight: After this, Cyrus, the King of Assyria, and Mazares, went into Mandana's Chamber, where they found her not, and where there was none but the servant, who spoke unto the King of Assyria; and him Cyrus did examine concerning Mandana's carrying away: but he could not gather any great satisfaction; for the servant told him, that he did not see either Mandana or the woman depart: and that he saw none but Pactias who commanded him to stay in the Chamber, and not to open it, what noise or commands soever he heard, until two hours at least after day. The Princess Palmis, and the Princess Timareta, coming into Mandana's Chamber, as well as Sesostris and Artamas, they were exceedingly grieved at the accident, especially the Princess Palmis. For she having been longer with Mandana then Timareta, and had contracted an everlasting league of friendship with her; she had also more need of the protection of Cyrus, then had the Princess of Egypt. 'Tis true, her sorrows were not comparable unto sorrows of the three Princes whom love caused to resent the flight of Mandana most sadly: Nor did they know whether they should term it a flight or a carrying away: However, to lose no time, they searched all the corners of the Citadel ●or the King of Pontus and Mandana, lest they should be hid in some place; also Cyrus caused all the King of Pontus his men to be secured; and proclaimed throughout the Town, great rewards unto any that could tell where Mandana was, or only which way she went. In the mean time, Cyrus carried the Princess Palmis unto the King her father's Palace, and the Princess Timareta also; conjuring the Princess Palmis to get out of Croesus what he knew concerning Mandana's departure, and the place of her retreat, assuring him of his liberty, if he could truly inform him, where she was: but all was to no purpose: for neither by the King of Pontus his Domestiques, nor by the Proclamation about the Town, nor by Croesus, could Cyrus meet with any intelligence, nor was man in more despair than Cyrus: Nor was man in such a boisterous fury as the King of Assyria; nor was ever any more amused than Mazares: One said that certainly the King of Pontus was lurking somewhere in the Town, and that it was impossible they should get out: another said, they went out during the great confusion that was made, either by the River, or by the side of the Town, where the Line of Communication was not finished: and a third said, that Croesus must needs know, or at least conjecture where they were. They propounded expedient upon expepedient, to find out the truth, but all in vain: and Cyrus had so many orders to give out, either for the security of the new taken Town, or for the Guard of Croesus, or for the search of Mandana, that he had no sooner given one command, but it was necessary to give another. He had no time to contemplate his misfortune; but yet he apprehended it in gross to be so great, and his soul was so full of confusion, that he thought himself the most miserable man alive. But after he had sent to advertise the King of Phrygia, and the King of Hyrcania how affairs stood, and appointing them to send out several parties of Horse to inquire of the King of Pontus and Mandana; and after he had given command at all the gates, that none should go out before it was known who they were, and to guard the walls; as if the Town were yet besieged, lest the King of Pontus should get out by the help of Ladders; and after he had taken all the courses which either Love or Prudence could invent: Andramites came to tell him, how he understood from a servant of Pactias, Governor of the Citadel, that his Master sent a Servant the last night for six of his best horses to be brought unto the side of Pactolus, towards the great Rock by which the Town was taken, and therefore it was probable that the King of Pontus, and Mandana were gone out of Sardis: Cyrus no sooner heard this, but he desired to speak himself with the man whom Andramites spoke with; and since the King of Assyria was not then with him, nor any but Mazares and the Prince Artamas, he went with them unto the place where this servant of Pactias said the Horses were carried, to the end he might judge which way they took: But Feraulus thinking it not fit that Cyrus should go in a new taken Town with so slender a retinue, did hint it unto him: So that Cyrus commanding two horses to follow him, went unto the side of Pactolus: He was no sooner there, but Andramites who was that Country man, coming to the River, and seeing the Golden sand which is so famous throughout the world, he knew by it that the water was very low in that place, and that it was not impossible but it might be forded, there being at some times of the year not water enough to carry the little Boats which use to pass. Moreover, Cyrus observed, that the tracts of the Horses feet did not go along the River Pactolus, but went into it: Also, there were some Fishermen, who came unto the side of the River to look at Cyrus, who said, that the last night they saw from their houses, which were close by, some horses pass over the River: one of them adding, that he also saw a little Boat, but the Alarm to the Town being so hot in all quarters, they would not stir out of their houses to see who they were; imagining that they were some, who fearing a Famine, had rather venture themselves among their enemies, then hazard to die for hunger. Then Cyrus asked whether they saw any women? One of them knowing what they sought for, answered, yes, in hopes of recompense proclaimed; and others more sincere, answered, no: But indeed, though Cyrus saw, they knew not what they saw, yet he imagined, that infallibly the King of Pontus was out of Sardis, so that without more delay, he resolved to follow in person; yet not being cleared of all his doubts, he sent Andramites to tell the King of Assyria, that he left him in the Town to make all diligent search there, whilst he went without the Town in quest of intelligence. He would needs have the Prince Artamas to return and comfort the Princess Palmis for the misfortune of the King her Father: But Artamas being a debtor unto him for the liberty of his Princess, would not forsake him when he was in quest of his own: As for Mazares, there was no doubt which way he would take: Thus these three Princes did happily ford the River with their men. In the mean time, Cyrus could not choose but wonder at the weakness of Sardis on that side. 'Tis true, that as the River Pactolus did rise and fall in a short time, it was not above four hours in that condition: When Cyrus was on the other side of the River, he saw the prints of horse feet come out of it; but he saw within a short way they were so mingled with many other, that he knew not the right ones he would follow: When he was about a Furlong off, he came to a place where three ways parted, so that staying to confer with Mazares and Artamas what course was best to take, they resolved to divide themselves, and did so, into three companies; Cyrus letting Feraulus go with the Prince Artamas, because he knew not Mandana; all promising to return unto Sardis within three days at the 〈◊〉, or else to send news of their adventures: But when Cyrus was to choose which of these three ways he should take, he was much put to it; for he had no sooner resolved upon one, but he repented; and to say truly, he would have been in all three, and at Sardis also; yet at last he made choice of that way which was towards the Seaside, supposing that the King of Pontus would draw that way: But alas, what a miscellany of sad thoughts possessed the spirit of this Prince during this voyage. He talked with all he met, he sent unto all the houses he saw either on the right or left hand, but could not hear any tidings of them. As oft as he came unto any cross way, he would again divide those men he had; thinking if he did not so, he should leave the way which Mandana took▪ And indeed he did so divide, and subdivide his men so often, that he had left but ten with himself, and at last but five, and having none of quality with him Ligdamis, who was fitter for him then any other, because he knew the Country very well. As he was in a Wood which was full of ways, he heard on both sides of him the noise of men on horseback, which were in the thick of the Wood, thinking also that he heard the voices of women: So that he knew not what to resolve upon; yet rather than miss Mandana, or at least not know whither they carried her, he divided his men again, and kept only with him Ligdamis and another, and sent the other two on the two sides; then they struck severally into the thick of the Wood, in hopes to get where they heard noise of horses, men and women, Cyrus thinking that he heard the voice of Arianita; but the Wood being full of Leaves, Cyrus could not get to them, but those who followed him, finding a clearer passage, they got before him: Also he perceived, that the noise he heard was less and less: and in lieu of going forward he went back towards the high way; hoping when he was in the way, more easily to gain what he had lost: yet it fell not out as he imagined: for in his crossing the Wood to the high way, he could not hear any thing either of his own company or any else, yet he hoped to overtake them, and indeed he galloped so fast, that he overtook Ligdamis, and the other man; and finding two ways, he sent the man one way, and he with Ligdamis took the other; he had not gone above thirty paces, but he met with two country women with baskets of fruits upon their heads, whom he asked whether they met with any before them? but they answered, that about half an hour since, they thought they heard some horses pass by them, yet they could not see any thing: Such an odd answer, made Cyrus ask no more questions of these women, only the way to the place where they heard those horses which they could not see; but the two women could not agree upon the place: So that Cyrus seeing he lost his time in talking with them, he went on his way: but all to no purpose, for he could not find what he sought after, so that he began extremely to despair; and the more, because his horse was almost tired, and night came on: So that he was forced to take counsel of Ligdamis, and to refresh their horses at the first Town they came at; but in going to it, the Wood by degrees grew thinner, and they came to a place where ran a violent. Torrent, which fell impetuously from a Mountain not far off, and separated the Wood from a pleasant Meadow, and ran so deep, that there was no possibility of passage, and the banks were so steep, that it could not be swom with a horse: Cyrus coming to the sides of this Torrent, along which he must of necessity go, he espied a woman sitting in the midst of this Meadow, whose head lay upon the knees of another woman: Upon the first rapture of this sight, needs would he cross the Torrent, but his horse would not take it; so gave him time to consider what was best to be done, though he was ready to attempt any impossibility: Then did he go more into the Wood, that he might see the better, and was even wonder struck when he saw the one was Mandana, and the other Martesia; he no sooner saw them, but he called Ligdamis, who was behind him, to show them unto him; but as soon as he had said so, they vanished, and he saw them no more, and consequently could not show them. This prodigious adventure did so astonish him, that he durst not believe himself: he went then as near as he could to the Torrent, to look at the place where he thought he saw Mandana, but he could see nothing; he could not imagine that whilst he turned his head to call Ligdamis she could get to a cross way which was towards the foot of the Mountain; so that not knowing whether it was an apparition, or a fantasy, he stood still, and spoke not one word: his reason gave his eyes the lie, and persuaded him it could not possibly be Mandana which he saw; yet this Idea made such a deep impression upon his spirit, that after he had told Ligdamis what he saw, he asked him where one might get over the Torrent? But Ligdamis answered him, that they must turn back, and that they left a way in the Wood which would have carried them into that Meadow. After this, he told him, that he was absolutely resolved to go unto the place where he had seen this fair Vision. Ligdamis dissuaded him, and said it was but labour lost: but needs would he go unto the place notwithstanding. Then did Ligdamis carry him to a way where the Torrent was more shallow, which they easily forded, and made all haste to the Meadow, lest night should be upon them before they got thither; yet had they day enough to get thither: And when Cyrus was come to the place where he saw Mandana, he found the grass all ruffled, and laid in that place, and showed that some did sit upon it, and their footsteps were plainly discerned in the Meadow: for in all other places the Flowers and Grasse were fresh and untrodden, but in this place where they had been, and which way they went. Cyrus was so amazed at what he had seen, and did see, that he was almost out of his wits: As for Ligdamis, he was persuaded, that chance only had so foiled the Grass, where Cyrus said he saw this apparition, and believed what Cyrus saw, was only the strength of imagination and love together. Then seeing that night came on, that it was a long way to the nearest Town, and that their horses were spent: he forced Cyrus to be going, and leave the place where he saw Mandana, or a phantasm resembling her, for he knew not what to think it was: But in their going they light upon that path which was newly made in the Meadow; but in the going out of this Meadow it was so dark, that neither Path, nor Men, nor Horses could be discerned, and he was forced to submit unto this conduct of Ligdamis; and going in the dark, he called to memory a dream which he had, in which he saw Mandana in a Meadow, and that she immediately vanished: To think how his dream proved true, did much augment his wonder: Afterwards calling into his memory the long Catalogue of his misfortunes since he came from Persepolis at sixteen years of age, and considering that he yet was but four and twenty, he thought that if the Gods would have him live longer, and torment him with more misfortunes, they must invent some new ones, since there was none in the world which he had not gone through: 'Tis true, in matters of glory and war, he had been happy: but since all his Victories did not avail his Princess, he valued them rather as miseries then good fortunes: But whilst Cyrus was rapt in these sad thoughts, he still insensibly went on, only following Ligdamis, who went before: At last, being come to a house at the foot of a hill, which stood some hundred paces from a Village, Cyrus lighted from his horse, and never enquiring whether the lodging was good or bad, he went into a little chamber which was showed him: Ligdamis took care for every thing, that Cyrus might take the better rest: And Ligdamis would not let the woman go unto the Town to provide any necessaries; for he conceived, that if it should come to be know that Cyrus was the Conqueror of Croesus, and him that kept him prisoner, some wellwisher of that unfortunate King might seize upon Cyrus; therefore he chose rather to have bad entertainment, then run that hazard: However, the poor woman whose husband was not at home, made a thousand excuses, telling them that if her husband were at home, that entertainment might have been better: Cyrus asked her, whether she saw any women of quality pass by on horseback that day with such a man in their company as he described the King of Pontus to be? but she answered, No. Then Cyrus and Ligdamis after a homely repast went to their rest; yet Cyrus waked before day, and made ready to depart: When he was taking horse, the Master of the house being returned home to entertain him better than his Wife had done; though, Sir, I must tell you, that I can hardly repent of my absence, for I assure you it hath been very serviceable unto a distressed L●ly. A Lady? (replied Cyrus hastily) Yes, Sir, said he, and I left her at a Town about twenty furlongs from hence, where heretofore I dwelled. Cyrus' hearing this man say so, was very urgent with him, to relate where he found this Lady; what stature she was of, and how she was distressed? As for her distress, replied he, I cannot give you an exact relation; but I can assure you she is very fair, that she hath cried very much, and that a man who was with her, was very diligent to comfort her. Where did you find her, replied Cyrus, and when? I found her the last night, replied the man, a little before Sunset, as I was returning from a place where I had some business; and I heard the man say, that her horse did throw her into the River, where she was in danger to be drowned; and that she was in danger to be drowned, and that she had so hurt her leg that she was not able to stand, or endure the jogging of a horse; so that I coming to the place where she was in this condition, I offered myself to help her; and the man who was in her company taking me at my word, desired me to carry him to a place where this Lady might have help; and I conducted them to this Town where I told you I had been: The man carrying her in his arms, and I leading her horse which threw her into the Torrent. Cyrus no sooner heard this, but he desired him in all haste to carry him unto the place where this Lady was; but the man seeing him so very earnest, knew not whether he should show him the way or no: yet Cyrus at last did promise him such rewards, that he made himself ready to be his convoy, and carried him unto the very chamber where she was, without acquainting any in the house, for the people of that house where she lodged being of his acquaintance, never examined him: Yet Cyrus asked them whether she was very much hurt, but they answered him, that she was much better than she was thought to have been; for the Chirurgeon said her leg was not broken but only strained: and assured them it would mend quickly, so she might rest some days. After this Cyrus went into this Lady's chamber, and knew her to be Arianita: He no sooner saw her, but going to her, and seeing none could understand him but Ligdamis: Ah my dear Arianita (said he unto her) what have you done with my Princess? Sir (answered she, much amazed to see him) I have left her much against my will, by reason of an ill accident which happened unto me, and I am not so happy as Martesia who is gone with her. But where is she? replied Cyrus': Into what part of the World hath the King of Pontus carried her? Is it far off? And can you not inform me which way I should follow. Alas, Sir, replied she, you ask me such questions as I cannot answer; for I know not whither the King of Pontus will go; all I know is, that I left them yesterday a little before Sunset, and that they resolved for to travel all night, and that it will be very hard for you to follow them, not only because they are far before you, but because they go invisible: you tell me such wonders, replied Cyrus, that they transcend my understanding: yet I tell you nothing but what is true, replied she: therefore Sir, since you cannot follow the King of Pontus, until you first know in what manner he goes, you must allow so much patience as to let me tell you. I would gladly ask you, replied he, how the King of Pontus got out of Sardis? whether he carried away my Princess, or whether she followed him? whether I saw her yesterday with Martesia in the midst of a meadow? and whether she hate me? I have also a great desire to ask you how you do after your fall, and carry you unto some place of better accommodation; but I must confess I have a most earnest desire to follow Mandana, and deliver her from her unjust Rival: yet Sir, replied Arianita, you cannot follow them with success, unless you know as much as I do: Then I conjure you to tell me quickly, said this amorous Prince. Ligdamis would then have withdrawn to the other end of the Chamber, but Cyrus would have him be partaker of what Arianita would relate. So that after the door was shut, and Cyrus sitting upon the side of her bed, he desired her to relate all she knew concerning Mandana. Sir replied she, I could tell you many passages concerning that Princess whom I have the honour to serve, and which I believe you would gladly know: but considering the present state of things, I will only relate which is requisite to be known at this present; and tell you which way I come to be acquainted with the secret of the King of Pontus: That there was a man of quality with him, who certainly is most innocent of his master's injustice, and who pitying the miseries of the Princess Mandana, hath often lamented them unto me: and I assure you, that by his means we have received many civilities and comforts in our Prisons: And Sir I must tell you, that I think there is such terms of friendship between us, as I have some power over his spirit. And it is by him I know which way your Rival robs you of the fruit of your victory in taking Mandana from you. Know then Sir, that when the King of Pontus perceived that you resolved to take Sardis by famine, when you could not by force, he thought himself lost, though he would not confess it unto any but to Pactias, and him who told it unto me whose name is Timonides. Seeing then that your lines were begun, he knew that if once they were but finished, it would be impossible for him to get out of Sardis, and have recourse unto flight, therefore he fell into a most extreme despair; Timonides told me, that then he did strive with himself to overcome his passion, but could not possibly, and the greatest reason was, because he had some hopes, that the jealousy which he had infused into the heart of the Princess, would make much to his advantage: In the mean time, he could not conceive it possible to get himself and Mandana out of Sardis; yet he was continually contriving ways how to compass it; and discoursed often with Pactias about it; who came unto the King of Pontus one morning, and told him, that he had found out a way to get Mandana out of Sardis. At first, this Prince was so transported with joy, that he embraced him, but afterwards conceiving it to be impossible, he would not so much as ask him what his way was: But Sir (said Pactias to him) I know you are not ignorant of the wonderful virtue which is in that stone called the the Heliotrope; and you know, that the famous Ring of Gyges (which by making him invisible, got him a Crown) hath always been carefully kept in the Royal family of Lydia; and that the Prince Mexaris, brother of Croesus, had it from the King his father. And I think I have heard you speak of an effect of this Ring when Mexaris one day made an entertainment for Panthea, when he was in love with her, and when Abradates was his Rival. Therefore I shall not need to relate, that there is a certain kind of lustre in this stone, dasles or casts a kind of a mist about the person who carries it, and makes them invisible: then Sir, you must know, that when Mexaris died he went out of Sardis, and out of favour with the King his brother, because he would have carried away the Princess of Classomena: so that when the news of his death was known amongst the King's Domestiques, they filched away the greatest part of his Treasure, before any orders could be given concerning them: and amongst the rest, they took this famous Ring of Gyges. A strict inquiry was made for the thief: for Croesus valued this Ring more than all the rest, but nothing could be heard of it. In the mean time one of the Officers of Croesus had a command in this Citadel under me, and this morning died; but a little before his death he desired to speak with me, and told me, that he was a complice in the theft which was committed after the death of Mexaris: Adding, that having nothing but this Ring of Gyges in his possession, he gave it into my hands. I cannot tell whether he meant to give it the King or me, for he died presently. However it was, Sir, I have the Ring, whose effects are so wonderful, that I believe it may be serviceable to you: The King of Pontus was at first exceedingly joyed at what Pactias told him. But upon second thoughts he thought it would not serve his turn, for the virtue of this stone extended only to him who carried it, and therefore he was as much grieved as before. Then he fell into a deep and serious contemplation of it; and Love being a passion which fills the mind full of Fancy, and gives new and quicker fire to the imagination, he found out an expedient use of it: He considered, that as a Loadstone divided into several parts doth still retain his whole virtue in every part, and will attract Iron; and that Amber, and Jet do keep the qualities which Nature gave them, though they be divided; therefore the Stone in this Ring if divided might as well retain his efficacy in every part, and consequently he might make Mandana invisible as well as himself: He had no sooner apprehended this, but he imparted it unto Pactias, who approved of his Fancy very well, not doubting but that the Heliotrope would admit division as well as the Loadstone: He added further to fortify his opinion, that all inanimate things in nature, either Stones or Mettles would keep their qualities, though divided; and therefore the Heliotrope: But if it be divided only into two, replied the King of Pontus, Martesia, and Arianita, and you must be left behind; and if you do stay behind when I am gone, I know Croesus will do what he can to ruin you; and I know further, that it will be much more difficult to get Mandana away by herself then with Martesia and Arianita: Yet I cannot conceive, said Pactias, that this stone ought to be divided into so many parts: And as for me, never take any thought; for I will disguise myself, and get out the next sally which is made, until which I will hide myself in Sardis: And as for the Princess' women, we will lock them up until you be far enough off from being followed. Though this design was not very well examined, and though the King of Pontus saw it full of difficulties, yet the execution was resolved upon, hoping in time to surmount all the obstacles. Pactias then brought a Workman to divide this Heliotrope, and set it when it was divided; he brought him into a chamber of the Citadel, where he was shut up until he had done his work: But, Sir, as this Artist was dividing this stone, whose nature he was ignorant of, and which indeed was too big for a Ring, in lieu of dividing it into two, it shivered and fell into six pieces of different bigness: The King of Pontus, who would needs be present, seeing this accident, and fearing that this stone had lost its virtue, and was altogether useless, he was extremely angry and sad, and was very angry with the man; but making trial of the pieces, he found that every one retained their whole virtue, so that in lieu of chiding, he thanked the man; for now he saw it would be much easier for him to get away Mandana, then if it were divided but only into two; and now he conceived his design, which before he thought impossible, to be only difficult. In the mean time, before he set the stones, he considered how he should do to get Mandana to carry one, and Martesia and I another; for he imagined, that for all her jealousy, he could never win her to contribute any thing unto her carrying away: and considering, that to make this stone do his effect, it must be turned towards the person who was to carry it, he could invent no better way, then to fix one unto the pommel of the Saddle which Mandana was to ride upon, for that way the stone might be turned towards her, and almost as near her body as if it were in a Ring: So that conceiving no better way could possibly be found out, he commanded him who was to set the stones, to set three of them in silver only, and in such a manner as one might put them in, and take them out when they would; and for the three others, he would have them set in Rings. Then the man considering upon the preposition which was made, he devised a way according unto the King of Pontus his desire; for he would place this Heliotrope in the pommel of the Saddle, as if it had been only the head of a Nail, and did drive in many other Nails, to the end that this like them might seem only an ornament, and was placed so cunningly, that it was always turned towards the person who sat in the Saddle. This invention did so take the King of Pontus, that I did press on the execution of it very earnestly; and indeed it was done with as much ingenuity as it was invented: But whilst he was working, the King of Pontus was upon two designs at once: The one was, to augment those sparks of Jealousy which were kindled in the Princess; and the other was to be as cautious in his going out of Sardis as if he had not this miraculous stone. In order unto these two things, after those Ladies, who at the Princess Aramintaes' request you permitted to go out of Sardis, were gone out— Ah Arianita (said Cyrus, and interrupted her) It was not at the Princess Aramintas request, that I permitted those Ladies to go out, but at the instance of one who was Cousin unto them, named Doralisa, who was with the late Queen of Susiana. However, Sir (replied Arianita) Mandana does think it was at her request, and accuseth you of too little affection unto her, and of too much unto Araminta: But, I beseech you, Sir, be so patient as to hear me, and know, that after these Ladies were gone out, the King of Pontus caused one of the Guard to tell us the next morning, as news which he had from one who was taken prisoner, that you treated them with extraordinary civilities; that you sent them to the Princess Araminta, causing all imaginable honours to be done them in her consideration. Adding, that at present, this Princess had the ruling of the whole Army; that all addresses were unto her for any Office; that such Prisoners were released as she thought good, and indeed that you were so far in love with her, as every one was astonished at it, and saying that many condemned you for it. You may well imagine, Sir, that Martesia and I would never have told all this unto the Princess, though we had believed it; but he who told us, took such a time, as when the Princess was in her Closet, and spoke so loud, that she heard, and was extremely moved at it, and was extremely incensed against you, insomuch that she commended the King of Pontus his discretion, that he would not tell her himself. Alas Arianita (cried out Cyrus) what dismal news is this you tell me? Believe me, Sir, said she, I do not tell you that the Princess loves the King of Pontus; but to be sincere with you, I must needs say, she complains against you. She is so unjust in her complaints (replied this sad Prince) that the Gods to punish her, hath hindered me from releasing her: But, I beseech you, Arianita, go on, and tell me all you know. I shall tell you then, Sir, that Mandana had such an incensed soul against you, that she could not sleep one wink all the night following, but accused you ten thousand times of ingratitude and inconstancy, and said she would never love any as long as she lived; resolving with herself to leave loving you, or at least to love you less: she was full of sad expressions unto Martesia and me, as were enough to move the hardest heart in the world, which if rightly considered, may give you more satisfaction than sorrow, because they are symptoms of her affection to you. Though the satisfaction you mention be but bitter; yet I conjure you to tell me all that Mandana said: for the respects I owe unto my Princess are so high, that her very injuries shall not make me murmur against her. Alas, Sir, replied Arianita, if I should tell you all the Princess said, I should not end this day: For I assure you, she spoke more that day in a quarter of an hour then at other times she was accustomed to do in two hours. No, no (said she to Martesia, who entreated her to suspend her judgement of you till Sardis was taken) do not think that the Victory of Cyrus will produce my liberty: 'Tis true, I wish him victorious (said she) and do not yet hate him so much as to desire he should be overcome, but yet I would not have him release me; and I look upon that liberty which he should give me, as upon a thing that would grieve me more than any thing upon earth. Oh Heavens, said she, is it not possible that one of my quality, considering the state of things, should suborn her Guards? For as the case of Croesus stands upon bad terms, the King of Pontus his case is much worse: Why should not the hopes of a rich reward from the King of Medes move some of my guard to set me at liberty? I shall think you want either wit or affection to me if you do not so much for me, or at least if you do not attempt it. It is so ordinary to see men change with fortune, that I make no question but you may do that for me, which will make me more joyful than I am able to express. Imagine what a joy it would be unto me to get out of the King of Pontus his power, and not be beholding unto Cyrus for my liberty; but that I may upbraid him with his Inconstancy, and have no new obligations upon me to him. Consider, I conjure you, what considerable service this would be unto me, and how I should be obliged unto a recompense. But, Madam, said Martesia to her, though it were possible that Arianita and I should suborn your Guards, yet how can you ever think to escape? Do you not consider, though they let you go safe out of Sardis, yet you cannot escape the besiegers? Oh Martesia, said she, never make that objection; for if I were once out of Sardis, assure yourself I should well enough escape both the King of Pontus and Cyrus, especially If they let me out on that side where Medes keep guard: for I must needs think that they who are subjects unto the King my Father will so far obey me, as to carry me unto Ecbatan before they will carry me unto Cyrus: However, though they should not, but should carry me to that perfidious man, yet I should thereby take away the honour from him of delivering me: In short Sir, the Princess used such arguments unto us, that she persuaded us it was not difficult to suborn her guards: Then I offered to speak unto Timonides over whom I knew I had some power, but she did expressly forbid me, telling me, that it must be unto the officers of Pactias, or Pactias himself, that I must break the matter, and not unto any man that had relation unto the King of Pontus: She gave us Commission to promise any thing in her behalf, assuring us that she would punctually perform whatsoever we promised: Then we talked that very night with one of the officers under Pactias, and falling into a discourse of the Princess and her misfortunes, we told him that both he and all his company were also infortunate, so that after all their fidelity and care in guarding Mandana, they could never hope for any recompense; since they were all ready to become the slaves of Cyrus. Afterwards, adding many other reasons, and joining his own interest unto the pity which he ought to have of so great a Princess, we moved him to serve the Princess, and that way to shelter himself from that storm which Croesus would bring upon him: This officer hearing us say so, did not absolutely reject our proposition, though he did not accept it; and we imagined that the difficulty which he made was to draw on a greater recompense for the service which he should do in delivering the Princess: yet that was not his thought: nor would he put us out of hopes to gain him, lest if he had absolutely denied us, we should make the proposition unto some other, who perhaps would lend a more willing ear unto it then he did: But be pleased to know Sir, that he was no sooner gone from us, but he acquainted Pactias with the proposition which we had made, who conceiving that this would exceedingly forward the King of Pontus his design of carrying away Mandana, he imparted it unto him, and made him beyond all expressions joyful, not doubting now but to get the Princess out of Sardis very easily: and he did the less fear it, be cause the river Pactolus was so low, that he knew it was foordable at a place near the Citadel: So that seeing the main obstacle which he found in his design (which was that, if he carried us by force we would cry out) was overcome, he thought how to execute the matter immediately; yet resolving to stay until such a night as there was a alarm given on that side of the Town, opposite unto the Citadel: In the mean time, Pactias appointed him whom we had spoke unto, to hold us in hand, as if he intended to make his fortune by releasing Mandana, and that he should have carried the matter so cunningly, that we should not have the least suspicion, he would deceive us: And indeed, he acted his part so well, that Martesia and I did verily believe we had won him to us: for he seemed as if it went something against the hair of his mind, to betray his master, and yet seemed as if he were infinitely compassionate of the misery in which the Princess was: And Martesia and I were so deluded in him, that we also deluded Mandana; but the truth is, she was as much deluded by the words of him with whom we treated, as by ours: for since he told us, to delude us the more, that he would not undertake the business, unless he spoke unto the Princess; we did so bring it to pass, that he did speak with her, and concluded what we had begun: Thus taking the whole matter upon him, we had nothing to do but to be ready for a departure, when he should advertise us: And to make the matter seem more likely, he told us of the shallowness of the River, adding, that unless it were so, he could not possibly deliver us. But the Princess thinking that she must needs be at some expenses in the execution of his design, she gave him a very rich Ring: which he took lest she should suspect him if he refused; so that now we were full of hopes. The Princess was very sorry to leave the Princess Palmis, but she knew that though she should show her the way how she might get out of Prison, yet out of her respects unto the King her father, she would refuse it, therefore she did not impart her design unto her: but waited with much impatience for the execution of it: and we waited not long: for the Heliotropes being set, and Pactolus at an ebb, Pactias having procured a boat to waft over the Princess, Martesia and me, lest there should be any danger in riding the River; the King of Pontus bidding Timonides to be in a readiness, and Pactias having given all requisite order for our going out of Sardis It chanced that about two hours after we were gone to bed, we heard a great noise in the Town: so that the Princess fearing some sedition, she did rise, and dressed herself: And she was no sooner ready, but the men from whom we expected our liberty, came to tell us, that now we might easily make an escape whilst there was a disorder in the Town, occasioned by a false Alarm which he said Croesus gave, purpose to keep the Inhabitants awake: the reason why he told the Princess it was a false Alarm, was, because the King of Pontus feared, that if Mandana knew, Sardis was taken, she would then change her resolution, and not go out: for he knew not how high her jealousy was, though he had a great guess at it: You may well imagine Sir, that the Princess received this news of her pretended liberty with much joy: So that telling the man she was ready, he left us, and returned about a quarter of an hour after to conduct us down a back pair of stairs where none could see us, himself and two of his companions, until we came unto the Court of Guard, where we found very few Soldiers: for you must know Sir, that the King of Pontus would not have the Princess see him until she was out of Sardis, and past the Camp of Cyrus: therefore taking one Ring himself, and giving one to Pactias, and one unto Timonides, they followed us unperceived. I will not trouble you with a relation how the Princess was amazed, when she was out of the Citadel only with three men, and us, and when she heard the horrid noise that was in the Town. But let me tell you, that the ways being very fair and sandy from the Citadel unto the River Pactolus which was close by, we went in more fears then trouble: The King of Pontus and Pactias followed us, also Timonides who carried the Heliotropes, which were to be put into the Pomels' of the Saddles as I told you: when when we were come to the River, we saw horses ready, and a little boat, into which the Princess Mandana, our conductor, Martesia, and I entered: the two Soldiers, rode over the River upon two of the horses, and carried the rest in their hands. And give me leave to tell you Sir, that when the Princess saw herself in the midst of the River, her fears began to vanish, and joy took possession of her heart: it plainly appeared, that she did not so much fear being taken by your forces, as by those of Croesus or the King of Pontus: Now shall I be presently out of the King of Pontus his power, said she unto Martesia and me, and shall not be beholding unto a perfidious Prince for my liberty: when we landed, he whom we called our deliverer, went where Timonides was, who was fixing the Heliotropes unto the Saddles on which the Princess Mandana, Martesia, and I were to ride: It being night, and the Moon shining but dimly, also our minds being taken up with various thoughts, we never observed that the horses on which we rid were invisible, nor had we any leisure to descant upon what we saw or not saw: for as soon as we were on horseback, we went away: I forgot to tell you Sir, that Martesia riding behind our conductor, the virtue of the Heliotrope sufficed for both: As for the two men who came in the boat with us, they went on either side Mandana to conduct her: And to the end these two Soldiers who were not invisible, should not be observed by your forces; Pactias had put them into Persian habits: also the King of Pontus, not trusting wholly unto the virtue of these Heliotropes, was so careful in choosing his way, and passing between the Quarters on that side where the line of communication was not finished, that I am persuaded, though there had been none of these Heliotropes, he had passed safely. In the mean time, the King of Pontus let Mandana go first, that the two men that were visible might be guides unto all the company who saw not each other: commanding them, that if any of the Enemy came to take them, not to make resistance, but to let Mandana go next whom he always rid, though she saw him not: Though our minds were so full of hopes and fears, and the night was so dark, that we took no notice of this wonder; yet when we had rid a while, and I observed that we could not see any but the two footmen which ran by the Princess, but could not see either Martesia or our Conductor, wondering what should be become of the other horses which we saw at the water side, I confess that fear did so possess me, that I could not choose but cry out: I thought that I had wandered out of the way as well as those two men: The cry which I made, caused the Princess to look about her, and seeing only the two men who held the bridle of her horse, she was as much surprised as I was: Martesia who was behind our Deliverer, and who committed herself wholly unto his Guidance, coming out of a deep contemplation, had her share in the astonishment, when she looked & could not see us: In the mean time Mandana stopped, and I also, and we were so affrighted, that the King of Pontus thought twenty times to discover himself, and comfort us: but he did not, still leaving the care of us unto him whom we looked upon as the Author of our Liberty, and he coming to Mandana, let her feel the hand of Martesia, assuring her that she needed not to fear any thing, and that the wonder which she see was an enchantment only to set her at▪ liberty: if you only were invisible, said she unto him, I should think you had found the ring of Gyges, which I hear Croesus hath lost; but I cannot see either Martesia or Arianita, and I perceive by what they say, that they do not see me: However it be Madam, said he unto her, I assure you that you have no cause to fear any thing; and the better to assure you, when none passeth by, you may speak either with Martesia or Arianita, and I perceive by what they say, that they do not see me: However it be Madam, said he unto her, I assure you that you have no cause to fear any thing; and the better to assure you, when none passeth by, you may speak either with Martesia or Arianita, whom I will cause to come nearer you: whilst this man and the Princess were talking thus, Martesia and I were in extreme fright: yet being under the conduct of a man, who had so much power as to act such wonders, we durst not but speak him very fair, thinking that since he was able to make us invisible, he was able to do what he pleased. The Princess having the same thoughts, did not much press him to tell her how he wrought these miracles, and thought it more expedient to concur with him only to carry her unto the place where she desired to go, to wit unto Ecbatane, and to stay at some Town where she might stay with safety, and have so much time as send her a fitter Equipage. Since we were yet in the place where we might meet with some of the Troops of Cyrus; he he promised her all she desired, lest she should meet some and cry out: So that the Princess putting a new confidence in him, she only admired the prodigy, without any fear of his deceiving her: contenting herself with seeing only those two men who guided her horse, and speaking unto Martesia and me. Thus than we passed the Camp of Cyrus, between two Quarters, we met some Troopers and Soldiers several times; but since the two visible men were clothed in Persian habits, they passed for their own men, who were going from Quarter to Quarter: So that we traveled without any obstacle: And that which at first was a terror unto us, became afterwards our diversion. Martesia and I had a hundred fantastical wishes: For my part I wished to see the King of Pontus to upbraid him with his injustice, at a time when he could neither see, nor follow us. Martesia wished to meet the King of Assyria, to tell him, that this device was better than the white habits in a snow, which he used to get out of Babylon; that we might have the pleasure of seeing him desperate, when he could hear the Princess, and not see her. As for Mandana, she hinted to us, though she did not name you, that she was desirous to see you, Sir, and that you might only hear her voice. Thus we went on, not suspecting that the King of Pontus was so near as to hear us: Yet me thought, that as we went over a stony way, I heard more horses than we had in our company, but durst not express my thoughts. Thus we got out of the Camp, and about the height of the day the Sun began to be so hot, that the Princess complained very much. And coming to a place where were two ways, the one leading unto a thick shady Wood, and the other into an open Plain; the King of Pontus seeing the men who guided Mandanaes' horse to take the open way, he forgot that he should not speak, and commanded them to turn upon the right hand into the shade. I leave you to imagine, Sir, how we were surprised when we heard the King of Pontus his voice, which we knew full well. The truth is, it was so great, that we cried out all at once. The Princess stopped upon a sudden, and leaping hastily from her horse, she became visible, and fell into such lamentable complaints, as would have moved pity from very stones. I no sooner saw her lighted from her horse, but I did the same, and so did Martesia, and went both unto the Prince; the King of Pontus was extremely perplexed; for since he had only four in his company, he thought it would be difficult to carry us away by force, therefore he went politicly to work; for leaving his Ring with Timonides, he came and threw himself at Mandanaes' feet, giving her all the respective language that a violent and submissive passion could devise; beseeching her to pardon him, protesting he would still observe the same submission unto her as formerly, and assuring her that he would only endeavour to win her by his tears: adding, that if he could not obtain this happiness in a short time, he would then carry her unto Ecbatan: Yet all his submissive eloquence could not move the Princess, who told him peremptorily, that she would absolutely die upon the place. Insomuch as the King of Pontus perceiving her obstinate, and would go no further, he began to beseech her not to force him to fail in his submissive respects, and force her to follow him. And to show you, Madam (said he unto her) that I am able to do it, know that I have fifty Horse with me, though you see them not. At first the Princess did not believe him, but the King of Pontus causing Pactias and Timonides to speak, she did no longer question the truth; for she knew both their voices: So that exceedingly grieving at it, and choosing rather to follow her Ravisher, then to force him by a vain resistance unto any violence, she yielded, since she could not choose, and got upon her horse. Yet first she told the King of Pontus, that he should never hope for any thing from her but hatred and contempt. In the mean while, since in lighting from my horse, I had let go my bridle, it was a piece of difficulty to find him again, since he carried with him that which made him invisible; and Timonides was ready to take me up behind him, when this horse which was kept with that which Pactias rid upon, came unto him when he neighed; so that Pactias hearing him so near to him, laid hold on him, and I got up. Then after that Timonides had given the King of Pontus his Ring again, we went on, but alas, it was with thoughts different from those we had before, and certainly this Princess did repent of her escape, yet I cannot tell you her thoughts, but by conjecture, for since that I never heard her speak: When we were come into the Wood, where we saw some houses, the King of Pontus let the Princess stay under a shade, and brought some meat unto her, but she would take nothing, only a glass of water, and that at the request of Martesia; after which we continued on our journey. In the mean time Timonides feared that I should complain against him, for not imparting his Master's secret unto her, therefore he rid always next me, and I having a great desire to know how we came to be invisible, conjured him to tell me, and assured him that if he would tell me the truth, I would pardon him. I had no sooner said so, but Timonides being glad that I would accept of his justification, bade me in a low voice stop my horse, and stay a little behind the King of Pontus; for seeing the two Footmen which guided Mandanaes' horse, we knew he was not far off her: So that stopping our horses until we were out of hearing, after Timonides told me with a thousand oaths, that he knew nothing of the design until the last night, that Pactias' cold him, he related all unto me: adding, that it would be long before the King of Pontus came unto any place of retreat, and that he was resolved to travel all night, and not to rest the Princess until break of day. In the mean time we were so attentive unto our discourse, that we never minded our way; so that being in a thick Wood full of several ways, we took a wrong one: and we minded it so little, that though we met with two women with baskets of fruit upon their heads, we never so much as enquired of them. Alas, said Cyrus and interrupted her, I met those women also, and what they told me was the reason why I took not that way which would have conducted me unto the Princess. But I beseech you relate unto me quickly all that you know, that I may in all hast go and repair my fault: I shall quickly end Sir, said Arianita, for Timonides and I perceiving we were out of the way, we doubled our pace back, hoping to overtake them; but we never could: Then this accident did happen unto me, for be pleased to know, riding along the Torrent, my horse slipped, and threw me into it, so that being much hurt, Timonides was much troubled with me; and I know not what he could have done without the help of him who brought you hither. Ah Arianita, cried Cyrus out, what will all you told me avail me, unless you will let me have that stone which made you invisible, that I may make use of it, if ever I meet with Mandana: Alas Sir, replied she, one misfortune never comes alone, for be pleased to know, it fell into the River, when my horse did throw me: and as for that of Timonides, he took it from his finger, when he came to help me out of the Torrent, and knew not where he laid it, so that both of them are lost. As Cyrus was going to answer Arianita, a great noise of horses was heard in the Court. He no sooner heard it, but he went unto the window to see what made it, and saw it to be the Prince Artamas, and his retinue, who in his fruitless search of Mandana, heard there was a Lady in that house, brought thither by one man, and therefore he came to see whether or no it was the Princess Mandana: When Artamas saw Cyrus out of the window, he hoped that it was indeed the Princess: he lighted hastily from his horse, and came unto the Chamber where he was, Feraulus following him: but his joys were presently converted into despair; yet he saluted Arianita, of whom Feraulus enquired concerning Mandana and Martesia, whilst Cyrus, Artamas and Ligdamis advised upon the best expedients: but since haste was the most necessary course that could be taken, they resolved to separate themselves once more, and dividing the men which they had amongst them to search still towards the Sea side: For truly, said Cyrus, since Mandana hath two footmen with her, who are not invisible, and since she is when she is on her horse, it is not impossible to get some intelligence of her: Cyrus would needs see Timonides, before he departed, and since Arianita had told him he had done many good offices for Mandana during her imprisonment, he received him not ill. Yet he was very urgent with hitm to confess whether he known which way the King of Pontus his Master did take: and the sooner to induce himunto it, without any perfidious treachery unto his Master, Cyrus told him, that he would engage his word to set that Crown which was taken from his Master, upon his head again, if by his means he could find out the Princess Mandana: But all all his importunities and promises were ineffectual. So that Cyrus seeing he could draw no more out of him, he left him to Guard Arianita, when she was in a condition to go unto Sardis, leaving Feraulus with him for a conductor: after which he took horse, and parting from the Prince Artamas, he went in quest of Mandana, though with less hopes than before he met with Arianita: But whilst this great Prince was wandering, through woods and Mountains, and Plains; Mandana was in a most desperate condition, especially since Arianita and Timonides were lost, for she knew the power she had over that man, and what good offices he had done her in Sardis, and had the same hopes in him when she was out: She had a great desire to stay in that Meadow where Cyrus saw her, until Timonides and Arianita overtook them, and the King of Pontus could not hinder her for a while, because Mandana leapt from her horse, and Martesia also, so that he was forced to consent unto her: But since the Torrent was betwixt Arianita and Mandana, and this accident chanceing, the King of Pontus his messenger could hear no news of her: so that he forced her to get up, and Martesia also, just after Cyrus spied them; in the mean while, Mandana is forced to travel all night until break of day: and then the King of Pontus, finding a little private house, suffered her to rest some hours; after which, he constrained her to take horse again, ask her a million of pardons for the pains he put her unto; and his sorrow for being a cause of that excessive grief which he spied in her eyes when she was from the Heliotrope, was as great as Mandana's; But his love having the predominancy over his virtue, his reason was not so clear as to be ashamed of his crime, but he went on still in a continual course of committing it: Therefore passing on with Pactias, and him who rid before Martesia, and the two footmen which waited upon Mandana, he came the next day very late unto a little Port called Atarmes, where the Princess had time enough to rest herself all night: and where indeed she did so, for her weariness did so stupefy her senses, that she slept with more tranquillity, than one would have imagined her sorrows would have permitted her. As for the King of Pontus, he being of an indefatigable constitution, and his passion being incompatible with sleep, in lieu of thinking upon any rest, his thoughts were all of guarding Mandana, and procuring a Ship: but since it was something difficult to find one ready to depart, and more easy to find one in the morning, he stayed till then, when indeed he found one: so that Mandana was no sooner awake, but he let her know by Martesia, that she must prepare for a departure; she had a mind to make resistance; but since he had lodged her upon the very Port, and not above six paces from the ship, she thought her resistance would be in vain, and the rather, because she would not suffer either Martesia or her to speak with any in the house where she lodged, denying leave to go into the Temple: So that all Mandana could do, was to protract her departure only one hour longer, finding out several pretences for it, though she knew not to what end; for in her belief of Cyrus his love of Araminta, she could not imagine he● would follow her: yet she made as many excuses as if she had expected some relief. As she was in this condition, and as the King of Pontus was in a Chamber which joined unto hers, talking with Pactias, she espied out of her window, a man of most admirable Garb, and rich in clothes, walking by himself: she looked steadfastly upon him, to the end that when he turned, she might see if she knew him, and whether he could relieve her: As she had this thought, he turned towards her, and to testify her wonder at the sight, she cried out: yet presently checking herself, and not creditting her own eyes, because he whom she saw was at some distance, she called Martesia, and showed her the cause of her admiration: Look Martesia, said she unto her, look whether that be the perfidious Cyrus or no. Martesia coming to the window, did perceive that Mandana had good reason for her thought, and that it was Cyrus: Well Madam, said Martesia unto her, never say Cyrus is unfaithful, that will leave the Siege of Sardis to follow you: Ah my dear Martesia, answered Mandana: I know not whether it be him or no, but I am sure, I am exceeding afraid, lest the King of Pontus should either go out or come hither, lest I should be a spectator of some sad accident: my greatest fear is, said she, because I see Cyrus by himself: certainly replied Martesia, he has company in the next house, which he hides to prevent suspicion: Did I not know, replied Mandana, that the Prince of Spitridates was Prisoner in Chalcedonia, I should alter my opinion, but since I know he is, I cannot doubt but he whom she thought to be this great Prince, and who indeed was the Prince Spitridates walked nearer her: Martesia then advised her, to show herself, to the end, that if he were come to relieve her, he might bring out his men: Mandana without further arguing the matter, took the counsel of Maretsia: So that looking out of the window just as Spitridates was within ten paces of her, and Martesia was ready to make a sign unto him, this Prince whose mind was taken up with many a sad thought, seeing Ladies out of the window, and that he were obliged to salute them if he passed by, turned suddenly aside the other way, seeming as if he had not seen them, though he was the most civil man upon earth, when he was not overwhelmed with sorrows. In the mean time, Mandana seeing this, and thinking that this pretended Cyrus had seen her, and seemed as if he did not see her, she was even ready to sink down with sorrow: Well Martesia, said she unto Martesia, whether or no is Cyrus' innocent now? and whether I were not just if I showed him unto the King of Pontus, that he might revenge my quarrel? However ungrateful and perfidious Prince that thou art, I cannot choose but tremble, that thy Rival should be so near thee and not know it: yet Madam I beseech you, said Martesia what can it possibly be imagined, Cyrus should do at Atarmes, if he did not follow you? for my part I am confident that he waits as you do for the hour that you are to embark, that he may then call out his men and receive you out of the power of the King of Pontus: We will see that presently (said she with as much anger as haste) and indeed Martesia used her best persuasions to have a little patience, and to consider upon it: but her spirits were so incensed, that she went immediately and told the King of Pontus she was ready to depart: Yet she had no sooner told him, but she repented, but it was too late. In the mean time, the Ship being ready, the King of Pontus never thought of a way how to get Mandana to take a Heliotrope, but giving them all unto one of his men to carry, he followed the Princess, whom Pactias did lead, because she would not suffer her Ravisher to have that honour. But when she was ready to go out of the house, and imagined that perhaps Cyrus and the King of Pontus would fight in her presence, she could hardly find a heart to walk: Yet at last, thinking that if Cyrus were there to release her, he would bring men enough for it, and if he did not, that he was worthy of punishment, she went forward: she had no sooner gone three paces but she thought she saw Cyrus, who was so far from interesting himself in the quarrel, that he slightly turned aside, and shunned meeting with her: this second adventure did so surprise her, that she was not able to retain her resentments, but cried out with as much anger as sorrow; Oh thou perfidious man, canst thou see me carried away before thy eyes, and not rescue me? These sharp words reaching the ears of Spitridates, he turned his head to see who pronounced them, and whether she addressed them unto himself, and turned just as the King of Pontus turned: So that thinking he had seen Cyrus as well as she, fearing he followed with much company, and remembering how he owed both his life, and liberty unto that Prince, he took Mandana's hand by force, and Pactias assisting him, put her hastily into the Ship with Martesia, and the man he brought with him; and without staying for the two footmen, who waited upon Mandana, he lanced forth immediately, and left them with the horses at Atarmes: In the mean time, since Spitridates conceived that Mandana's words were addressed unto him, and who thought that he had seen the King of Pontus his face, though at first he took him not for the Princess Araminta's brother, he came to the water side, and called unto some Mariners in the Port to carry him into the Ship which newly lanced out, and that they would help him to relieve a Lady who was carried away in it, conceiving that in honour he ought not to suffer this violence to be done unto her, though he knew her not: But call and cry and make what promises he would, they would not hazard themselves against those they knew not: So that seeing he could not prevail with them, he set himself to look upon those that were in the Boat, who by that time were so far off in the River, that he could receive no satisfaction, for he knew not Mandana; and the King of Pontus his back towards him, and spoke unto the Mariners to make all the hast they could. But Spitridates observing that there were two men who came unto the Ship, and were too late to get in, who afterwards went into the house over against the Port, he sent a servant thither, who came to tell him, there came a man unto the place where he lodged, who said that Sardis was taken: But these two men fearing they should follow the King of Pontus, would not tell who he was unto the servant of Spitridates, who returned to his Master and told him that he could get nothing out of those two men: but assured him, that those who were shipped away, were persons of good quality, as may be conjectured by their horses which they left behind them: Spitridates being fuller of curiosity then before, seeing he had lost the sight of the Ship, went himself to talk with these two men: but he no sooner saw them, than he knew one of them to be a man who was heretofore in the King of Pontus his service when he was at Heraclea, before Arsamenes revolted: He no sooner saw him, but the Idea of the King of Pontus came into his fancy, and he made no question but it was he, so that calling him by his name, the man knew him also, and they freshly renewed their old acquaintance: So that he could not deny but that he was embarked, was the King of Pontus his Master, and that he having carried away the Princess Mandana from Sardis, came to embark at this Port. Spitridates, no sooner heard this, but he fell into an excessive grief: for knowing that he did so very much resemble Cyrus, that his own mother took that Prince for him in Bythinia, he made no doubt but Mandana was in the same error, and that the infidelity which she upbraided him with all, thinking him to be Cyrus, was grounded upon the infidelity of Araminta. So that entering into a new despair and jealousy, he altered his intentions of staying at Atarmes, waiting of the success in the Siege of Sardis, and resolved to go and carve out his own Revenge upon that Prince whom he thought to be his Rival, and to go and chide the Princess of Pontus for her infidelity: Is it so, (said he unto himself) that Araminta hath forsaken me, and follows the favourite of Fortune? However, unjust Princess, I have done all that was possible to testify my love of you: I have voluntarily, forsaken Crowns for your sake: I have renounced all my ambition, I have stifled all thoughts of revenge upon an usurping Prince, only because he had a mere relation unto you: I have disobeyed the commands of the King my Father; I have suffered the rigour of a long imprisonment, I have wandered like an unknown vagrant throughout the world, only to observe your will: there is nothing which I have left undone, that was within the compass of possibility, to please you: yet the Conqueror of Asia hath got a greater share in your heart than I have; his glory charms you, and dazzles your eyes: and questionless you may employ all your Arts to make him as perfidious as yourself. But what likelihood is there, (added this incensed Prince) that Cyrus, who hath expressed such high testimonies of a constant passion unto Mandana; who hath gained so many battles; taken so many Towns, and put all Asia in arms for her deliverance, should after all this become inconstant, if you had not cunningly employed all your charms, to supplant a Princess, whom he had so long loved? Doubtless you think, unjust Princess, that I am still in Prison, and that nothing can interrupt your joys: perhaps you hold intelligence with the King your brother, which hath ravished away Mandana, lest that Prince should shake off your fetters, and assume hers: Doubtless, you hope that Cyrus will reconquer the Kingdom of Pontus for your brother: and that if you give me my liberty, it is more than you ought to do. But thanks be unto the Heavens, I am not your debtor for it, but shall perhaps be in such a condition as shall revenge Mandana for the infidelity of Cyrus, and to punish you in his person for infidelity to me: As Spitridates was entertaining himself with these thoughts, the taking of Sardis was confirmed by divers reports: So that having nothing to do any longer at Atarmes, he took horse, and resolved rather to ruin himself than not him who took the heart of Araminta from him: However (said he unto himself) Araminta can dissemble her inconstancy no longer, for since Sardis is taken, and Mandana carried away: if I find Cyrus courting her without any care of Mandana or thoughts of following her; there is no colour or excuse for them: I know very well, that to fall upon the great Conqueror of Asia, will be a most dangerous atermpt, but since I hope for death not victory, what need I fear? After this, Spitridates plunged himself so deep in his own thoughts, that he himself knew not what he thought: and thus he went on till towards the evening; and then desiring to set out a lodging in a village which he saw on his right hand, he spied a party of twenty horse, who coming out of a little wood, crossed his way, and one of them came to him: Spitridates then, rousing himself then out of his contemplation, went to meet him, but he was exceedingly astonished, when he saw him to be Cyrus, since it was impossible any other in the world should so much resemble himself: Cyrus (for it was he) was as much amazed on the other side, making no question but it was Spitridates, thinking no man upon earth else could so much resemble himself: The astonishment of both these Princes was so great, that they stopped their horses some three or four paces off each other: during which time, the whole Troop came up, and all of them were as much surprised to see Spitridates, as Spitridates and Cyrus were to see each other: Spitridates, had a mixture of joy amongst his wonder, to see Cyrus in a place where in all probability he was in quest of Mandana: and Cyrus amidst his misery was glad he was in condition to cure so great a Prince of so unjust a jealousy as he knew had infected his soul: Also he was the forwarder to speak not only to ease Spitridates of his tormenting passion, but also to ask whether he knew any thing concerning Mandana. Yet since he would not wholly trust unto this prodigious resemblance; Generous stranger, (said he unto him, after a long pause of looking upon him) if you be the same which my eyes make me believe you are, I have very joyful news to tell you: and I wish unto the gods, that in recompense of it, you could tell me as good concerning Mandana whom I am in quest of, and whom perhaps you met. Spitridates hearing Cyrus speak in this manner, his soul was fuller of joy, than he was able to express: for now he knew not whether he should look upon Cyrus as his Rival, or as the protector of Araminta; but at last, calming the tumultuous turbulence of thoughts, and desiring clearer satisfaction of all his doubts: Sir, (said he unto Cyrus) you need not doubt, but that I am the unfortunate Spitridates, who, for some reasons which now I shall forbear to tell you, is come into Lydia, to find out the end either of my days or of my miseries: But in coming thither, as staying at the Port of Atarmes which is a day's journey from hence; it was my fortune to see a thing which I cannot choose but wish earnestly, that it may trouble you; to the end you may make me as full of joy as you have done of hope: for truly Sir, it was my fortune to see the King of Pontus carry away the Princess Mandana, but I was not able to help it, or know it, till after they were embarked. How (said Cyrus, with so much sadness as pleased Spitridates) did you see Mardana embark? and cannot I follow? however, for heaven's sake, tell me which way the unjust Ravisher carried her from me. Spitridates then seeing all the symptoms of a real sorrow in the face of Cyrus, was so well pleased with it, that ceasing to hate him, and beginning to hope that Araminta was constant, he told him all he knew concerning Mandana, & with all aggravations possible, for he could not choose but rejoice at the despair of Cyrus, because the more he saw him troubled, the more he believed Araminta was faithful: & the excessive sorrow of Cyrus did so perfectly undeceive him, that he began to interest himself in the same sorrow which procured his joy. As they were thus talking, the Prince Mazares came unto that place with his troop, where Cyrus acquainted him with all he understood from Spitridates, the sight of whom did much surprise him: Cyrus then obliged them to salute each other, after which advising upon the best course, they were extremely perplexed; for Cyrus could not go unto Artames, because it was not yet brought into subjection, and where a guard was kept without a hazard of being arrested, and disabled from serving Mandana; nor did he know which way to seek her, since he knew which way she was carried. The result of their consultation was, to send unto all the Seaports, to see if they could hear any thing of her: Cyrus then went unto the next house to write, where in one hour he sent dispatches unto Ephesus, Milete, Gnides, Cuma, and all other Ports on that coast with orders to make strict enquiry, and to entreat Thrasibulus and Euphranor, father of Alcidonia, to send out ships to sea, and to give intelligence unto Sardis of all their adventures: for since this Town was almost at an equal distance from all these places, his best course was to go thither, that he might so order his Troops as they might in an hours warning be ready to march where he should hear the King of Pontus was: After which, and before he took horse, he took Spitridates aside, and told him with as much generosity as sincerity of his unjust jealousy, so that this Prince being ashamed of his weakness, and unjust hatred of him, did now give him such plausible language, as spoke him not unworthy of his friendship: Cyrus to settle his mind in tranquillity, offered him never to see the Princess Araminta again, though he had a most high esteem of her: But since the extraordinary sorrows of Cyrus had entirely cured Spitridates of his jealousy, he answered with as much generosity as spirit; and these two great Princes began to contract as great a league of friendship, as there was a resemblance in their faces. After this, they took horse and went towards Sardis, unto which he could not come until the next day at noon, because they were forced to rest themselves four or five hours at a little town in the way. In their return they met with the Prince Artamas: Cyrus also met with those whom he sent into the Woods, so that all these Princes being met again, they came to the gates of Sardis, where they were received with loud acclamations of joy: But at his entrance he met with Hidaspes, who came hastily to him; Sir, said he unto him, in a low voice, you come in a happy hour to calm a great disorder which is in the Town; for be pleased to know, ever since your departure, the King of Assyria, having made a strict search in all the houses of the Town to no purpose, he is fallen into such a fury, especially since he miss you, that he is almost out of his wits: But the worst of all is, that by a hundred slight conjectures, he thinks Croesus knows where Mandana is; so that this violent Prince having tried all ways of mildness to make this King confess that which perhaps he knows not, hath added menaces, and is resolved to seem as if he would put him to death, and make him discover out of fear that which he desires to know. Oh heavens, said Cyrus, is it possible so great a Prince should be culpable of so great a crime? Yes, Sir, replied Hidaspes, and the people are so incensed, that to prevent any Sedition, I am come unto this gate to see whether the guards be strong, and all the Officers there; for just now I believe Croesus is upon the Scaffold, the Princess Palmis all in tears; the Prince Myrsiles lamenting, and all the inhabitants of Sardis in a general revolt. Cyrus no sooner heard this, but riding immediately unto the great Plain which is between the palace of Croesus and the Citadel, where Hidaspes told him this sad spectacle might be seen, he came with such haste, as made it apparent that he blamed the King of Assyria's violence; when he first came upon the plain, he saw all the plain full of soldiers in their arms, and people crying; in the midst of which was a Scaffold erected, and a stake unto which Croesus was tied, and faggots round about him ready to be kindled, many Assyrian soldiers holding lighted Torches in their hands ready to set them on fire if he would not tell where Mandana was. Cyrus' beholding so sad an object, was struck with so much horror to see a man of that quality in such a pitiful condition, he made his way through the crowd, and came unto the Scaffold just as the King of Assyria, the more to terrify Croesus, had put fire unto a faggot, which began to kindle, and just as that unfortunate King remembering the saying of Solon, That none was happy before his death, began to cry out, Oh Solon, Solon, how true is thy speech? Cyrus then coming to the Scaffold which the fire began to burn, and hearing these words, commanded the fire to be quenched, that Croesus should be untied, and carried back unto his Palace, turning towards the King of Assyria, who was present, to check him for his violence, and told him he was certain that Croesus did not know where Mandana was. As soon as Cyrus had given this command, the people and soldiers did make the air echo with their acclamations, every one being forward to quench the fire, some to pull away faggots, others to fetch water; but there was no need of it; for as if the heavens had been obeen obedient unto the command of Cyrus, it reigned upon a sudden so abundantly, that the fire was immediately extinguished. After which Croesus coming down from the Scaffold, Cyrus made a thousand excuses for the injury done him, and went with him as far as his Palace, to give him all the consolation he could. As for Cyrus he went to lodge in the Citadel, and the King of Assyria followed him, whom he did extremely chide for his violent proceedings, and then he related unto him all he knew concerning Mandana, Mazares, Artamas, and Spitridates followed him; so did Sesostris, Tigranes, and Anaxaris, who having an extreme desire to know the success of his voyage, did accompany him unto the chamber which was prepared for him, that they might know whether they should rejoice or grieve with him; also to know who Spitridates was, whose extreme resemblance with Cyrus, begat a great curiosity in all that see him.     
The end of the Sixth Part.  

THE Fourth Volume OF ARTAMENES, OR The Grand CYRUS, THAT EXCELLENT NEW ROMANCE: Being the Seventh and Eighth PARTS.  
Written by that Famous Wit of FRANCE, MONSIEUR SCUDERY, de Governor of NOTRE DAME.  
And now ENGLISHED by F. G. Esq  
LONDON, Printed for HUMPHREY MOSELEY at the Prince's Arms in St. Paul's Churchyard; and THOMAS DRING at the George in Fleetstreet. M. DC. LV.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE AND MOST PERFECTLY NOBLE THE LADY ANNE LUCAS.  
MADAM,  
YOur CYRUS hath lengthened this Fourth Address beyond expectation: but 'twas because he had more to say; for He hope's to answer (as Tully did when they asked his opinion of Demosthenes ' Orations) that the longest is the best. Were it better, 'twere fitter for your Honour's acceptance: and Nobler it had been if a great Personage of our own Nation (who never stood forth to the World in Print) had filled his Design in translating this Author; wherein there was good Progress made, till the whole Translation was found to be finished by another hand. The Author (I hear) first built this Story in contemplation of an eminent Lady of France, whose rich Idea so heightened his Soul as made him write nothing that's mean or vulgar. Had his knowledge been blessed with your Ladyship's Character, he had lift up his thoughts (if possible) higher. For, when he considered the Strength and Largeness of Your Understanding; the number, height, and perfection of Your Virtues; the admirable composure of Your Outward and Inward Form, (to say nothing of the honour of your high Extraction) and all these assisted by your own most Learned and Noble LORD, with that happy Transcript of both Your Persons in that excellent young Lady (the image and delight of all your Perfections:) When these great Materials had stood before our Author's Fancy, he had drawn his MANDANA and the Great CYRUS greater than themselves. But it is not for men of humble condition (that is, for me) to discourse of things so Illustrious as Your Ladyship, for whose increase in all Felicity may God accept the Prayers, and your Ladyship the Endeavours of  
(MADAM) Your Honour's most humble and most obedient Servant HUMPHREY MOSELEY.   

THE STATIONER TO THE READER.  
I Must ask your pardon if you pay more for this Volume than any of its fellows; which easily you'll grant, when you see this contains a great many more sheets than any of the rest. The Author would have it so, and by that time you have read it, you'll find He had reason. There's but one Volume more behind, which this Term will infallibly bring you; and than you'll confess (for many knowing persons have done it already) that our Language cannot boast of any Romance so large, so material, so useful as the GRAND CYRUS.  
H. M.   

ARTAMENES, OR The Grand CYRUS. The Seventh Part.  

BOOK. I.  
IT was not Sesostris, Tygranes, and Anaxaris alone, who were full of curiosity to understand who Spitridates was, and who were desirous to know the success of Cyrus his voyage, for that illustrious Conqueror was in a moment environed with a crowd of Princes, Captains, and men of Quality, who did most feelingly interest themselves in all that concerned him, insomuch, as for a while he was forced to smother his sorrows, purposely to assure them, that theirs for him did oblige him, and that he would not be ungrateful unto them for it. But whilst he was expressing his acknowledgement unto these illustrious persons, Tegeus came to present him most hearty thanks from the Princess Palmis, for quenching those flames which were ready to devour the King her Father. The Prince Myrsiles sent also to the same end, and Cyrus had so many compliments both to pay and receive, that he had but a very little time of liberty to enjoy his own thoughts; handsomeness also required that he should dine in public. In the mean time, the Prince Artamas went to visit the Princess Palmis, and to assure her, that he would employ the very uttermost of his credit with Cyrus to move him unto a well treating of the King her Father: He saw also the Prince Myrsiles, and was extremely joyed to find him able to return an answer: As for Croessus, he durst not attempt to visit him, but resolved to stay, and see whether Cyrus would present him: In the interim, the King of Phrygia and Hyrcania hearing of Cyrus his return, came to the Camp at Sardis, to acquaint him with two things which could not be pleasing unto him: The first, That all the parties which they had sent out in quest of Mandana, could meet with no intelligence of her: And the second, That the taking of Sardis had more weakened his Army, then either the last battle, or the siege of that Town had done; for since Plunder was not restrained, those who had enriched themselves had disbanded themselves during his absence, some carrying away what they had got, and others selling off their shares, that they might more easily slink away. This news did exceedingly grieve Cyrus, but to prevent any further disorder, and to keep those which remained within the compass of their duty, he caused more to be given unto them than he had promised at the beginning of the Siege, and severely punished some of them which fled, and were taken again: But his Atmy was yet so numerous, that if his Love of Mandana had not been in a most superlative degree, he would not have apprehended it too weak to assault and take all the places which the King of Pontus could choose for a Sanctuary. But since it is the nature of that passion to think no obstacle small, though really they be so; Cyrus apprehended this accident, as if it were much more considerable than indeed it was, yet was he very circumspect to perceive, that Phraartes appeared not amongst all those who came to visit him upon his return, and his thought also was to give S●itridates speedy satisfaction in seeing the Princess Araminta: Then he began to inquire where Phraartes was, but none could give any direct account of him where he was; all that any knew was, as soon as Cyrus departed, Phraartes vanished also.  
Cyrus' knowing his affection to the Princess of Pontus, made no doubt but that he was gone to visit her, and knowing him to be of a hasty and violent temper, his fear was, lest some disastrous chance should fall out, if Spitridates went by himself to see that Princess; therefore he prevailed so far with Spitridates, as notwithstanding his impatience to stay until the next day, before he went unto the place where his longing desires called him, Cyrus most obligingly telling him, that since he was cured of his jealousy, he would wait upon him to the Princess Araminta, but could not possibly that day, by reason of divers orders of grand importance, which he was to give out: Since the term was but short, Spitridates consented unto the desires of Cyrus, who in the mean time sent unto the Castle where he left Araminta, to see whether Phraartes was there, and to command his return unto Sardis: After which, this Prince, after he had given all requisite orders for the tranquillity of the Town, for the incampment of his Army, and for the Guard of Croessus, he went to visit the Princess Palmis, and the Princess Timaretta, to crave their pardon for his abrupt departure, and leaving them when he went out of the Citadel without any tenders of civility, beseeching them to consider his excuse, that since he was busied about the liberty of the Princess Mandana, it had been a grand crime in him if he had stayed a little longer with them, after he understood the King of Pontus had carried her away. These two Princesses being both of them sensible of their obligements unto Cyrus, Palmis in respect of Croessus and Artamas, Timaretta also in respect of Sesostris and herself, they returned unto him as many thanks, as he made excuses unto them: They were obliged also unto it by the fresh favours which he did them, for he told the Princess Palmis, that he would carry the Prince Artamas unto Croessus, and that way put him in remembrance of his obligations unto Cleander; afterwards he told the Princess Timaretta, that as soon as he had taken convenient order for the handsomeness of her voyage, and for the magnificency of her Train and Equipage, she should when she pleased return into Egypt, under the conduct of Sesostris, upon condition notwithstanding that she would honour him with her promise, to make that renowned Prince as happy as he deserved to be.  
These two great Princesses having answered Cyrus as civilly as generosity obliged them, he left them to visit Croessus, to the end he might ask his pardon for the King of Assyria's violences, to condole with him his misery, and to present the Prince Artamas unto him, knowing well that the King of Phrygia would consent unto this reconciliation: But in going thither, Hidaspes who had the guard of these Princes, and of all the Castle, caused them to pass through the stately Chamber wherein all the Treasures of Croessus did lie. The sight of such a mass of riches, and so many glistering things, had not brought him out of that profound study into which the taking away of Mandana had put him, if Tigranes, Anaxaris, and Chrisantes, who followed him as well as the Prince Artamas, had not expressed their wonder and astonishment, by the cries which they could not restrain, notwithstanding those respects which they were always wont to observe unto that Heroic Conqueror: Yet notwithstanding their admiring noise had not invited Cyrus unto any consideration of so many glorious sights, if Chrisantes, who was loath to pass so soon out of so fair a place, had not by his words awakened him: Look Sir, at least, I beseech you (said he, and smiled) upon that you have conquered; and be confident, that since Fortune has so far smiled upon you, as to make you Master of all these Treasures, it is impossible she should frown so much as to let you lose the Princess Mandana: Therefore Sir, you may very well look upon them as most certain pledges of your future good fortune: I shall look upon him (replied Cyrus) when Ciaxares gives me leave to recompense the valour of so many brave men, who hath aided me as you have done to conquer them, or when he has permitted me to restore them unto the unfortunate Croessus in the consideration of the Prince Artamas: But since that is not yet, it is sufficient I appoint Hidaspes to have a care of them; and indeed Cyrus had not stayed a minute longer in consideration of all that magnificence, if he had not observed that Tigranes had an earnest desire to stay longer: So that being unwilling to oppose his curiosity, he walked softly through three great Chambers, and two Galleries, which passed from one into another, and which were all filled with most rare and precious things: All placed in such an order, and by so much Art, that one might every where observe a regular confusion, and pleasant disorder, which the lustre of the magnificent Cabinets did make; all which did fill the imagination of beholders with abundance of pleasing conceits, and forced their minds and spirits into admiration; and certainly not without good cause, and Cyrus as disinterested as he was, and though full of sorrow and passion, yet in the end honoured with his observance, this prodigious heap of riches which Croessus had so dearly doted upon, and which Solon so little esteemed, that they purchased his aversion: Never was seen together so much silver, so much gold, so many precious stones, nor so many rarities, as there were in those three Chambers and two Galleries: The Grandeur of the Dishes and Vessels were prodigies▪ the Statues of the same mettle were innumerable, and in beauty incomparable; but amongst● all these several figures of gold, there was one of Marble so admirable, that it invited Cyrus to stay, and a long time to admire it above the rest, though the material of it was not so precious as many others; it was fashioned with so much art, and represented so fair a person, as it is no wonder, if it charmed the eyes of a Prince, whose judgement was most delicate, and who was tightly able to judge of all beauties. This Statue was of a natural and ordinary grandeur, standing upon a Pedestal of gold, between Pillars on four sides, of an admirable beauty, to each of them were Captives chained of all sorts and conditions, but they were inchained by little Cupids, so rare and admirably wrought, as eye never saw better. The figure represented a Woman of about eighteen years of age, of a most superlative, surprising, and exact beauty; all the features of her face were wonderfully fair, her stature so noble and handsome, that nothing could be more alluring, her dress was so Courtly and extraordinary, that it was equally after the mode of T●rian Ladies, after the fashion of the Nymphs, and after that fashion in which the Goddesses are dressed, but particularly the Goddess of Victory, as the Athenians deck her, that is without wings, and only with a Coronet of Laurel upon her head: This Statue was placed upon its Basis, with such a sprightly action, as it seemed to be animated: The face, the neck, the arms, the hands were of white Marble; as well as the thighs and feet; whereof one part only was to be seen through the lacing of her buskins, because she did with her left hand a little hold up her Mantle, that she might, as if it were, the more easily walk, holding in her right hand the skirt of her Veil, which descended from the hinder part of her head, under the Coronet of Laurel, as if she would prevent the Wind from whifling it too much. All the garnishings of this figure were cut in Marble and Jasper of various colours: The garment of this fair Phenecian, which was lapped in a thousand pleasing folds was of Jasper, whose colour was so lively, that it resembled the Tyrian purple. A Scarf which was negligently thrown about her neck, and reached to her shoulders; was of a kind of Marble, mingled blue and white, which infinitely pleased the eye: The Veil of this figure was of the same piece, but carved with so much art, that it seemed to be as soft and pliant as a piece of Tiffiny: The Coronet of Laurel was of green Jasper, and the Buskins were of enamelled Marble; but the rarest piece of admirable art was, there was a kind of Air and Spirit in this figure, which did inaminate it, and which persuaded all beholders that it was ready to walk and speak: One might perceive a sprightly Physiognomy, and a certain kind of fierceness in her action, as let all beholders know, that she whom it represented had a fierce soul, this figure looking with scorn upon the Captives which were inchained at her feet. Moreover, the Carver had so exactly imitated the freshness and plumpness of young fair ones, that one might know the age of her whom he represented by that Statue. This figure being thus admirable, it was not without reason that the illustrious Cyrus was so curious as to ask the Prince Artamas, whether it was not the work of Dipoenus, or of S●ill▪ s, who were the two most curious Gravers that were then in the world, imagining notwithstanding, that this Statue was more than the bare effects of a fine fancy: But the Prince Artamas, after he had told him, that it was indeed the work of one of those Gravers whereof he spoke, who were of the Isle of Crete; he told him further, that it was made in representation of a Lady of Quality in Tyre, with whom the late King of Phenicia was in Love, and who was reported to be one of the fairest persons of the World, much fairer than her Statue: This being so (said Cyrus) Why did not that amorous King keep this figure? Because as I have heard say (replied Artamas) this Statue was not finished when that King died; and as doubtless you know Sir, since you have been in Greece, Dipoenus and Scillis did leave four images imperfect, which they began in Peloponnesis, to wit, of Apollo, of Diana, of Hercules, and of Minerva, because there was not ready payment made of what was promised unto them, so you may easily conceive, that the King of Phenicia being dead, and the Prince his Son who succeeded him, having business of more importance upon him, then to give them what the King his Father had promised; Dipoenus and Scillis were no more patient with him, than they were in Greece; for after one demand of their wages, perceiving there was some respite of time required for the payment, they embarked in the night, and carried their work with them: And Croessus then having a repute to collect all rarities in all Asia, they addressed themselves to him, and sold this Statue unto him: 'Tis true, the report is, that a little after the War, the young King of Phenicia sent to demand it of Croessus, offering the double of what it cost, but he would not part with it: This adventure, replied Cyrus, is doubtless worthy the beauty of this Statue which caused it. After this, he looked upon the miraculous quantity of Arms belonging to all Nations in the world, Arms of pure gold set with precious stones: He also admired the Thrones of mossy gold; the figures of all the Gods which were adored throughout all Asia, whose price of the bare materials only were worth more than is imagineable: He saw also in that place, Tables, Mirrous, and Cabinets of an inestimable price: All the Tables which were set round those Chambers and Galleries, were filled with a million of most rare and rich things, Pearls, Rubies, Emeralds, Diamonds, and such things, made such a glorious and precious miscellany, that no diapared Meadow in its glory of the Spring could make a more pleasant object, than the variety of precious things did which lay upon those Tables: In the midst of these magnificent varieties, the ingenuous fables which Aesop composed at Sardis were shown unto Cyrus, in which he had writ, and with such art couched all the history of Croessus his Court, and which this Prince so esteemed, that when Aesop departed out of Lydia, he would needs have him give them unto him: And to testify how much he esteemed them, he caused them to be richly bound with those which he had before composed, which taught most excellent Morals unto those who understood well the language of Beasts, whom he made to speak: Indeed the book was covered with enameled gold, and so set with Diamonds, as turn it which way one pleased, the name of Aesop appeared; the Clasps were as rich, and suitable to the rest; and Croessus did not more honour unto Homer, or any of the books of the Sibbels, so famous throughout all Asia, than he did unto Aesop, since he thought his works worthy to be amongst his Treasures, which he prized at a higher rate than all things in the world besides. After a serious contemplation of this world of riches, and with astonishment beheld the vast number of huge giblets of gold and silver: After, I say, he had reflected upon the misfortune of the Prince who lost them, and so passionately loved them, Cyrus went out of this place of riches, unto the Chamber of miserable Croessus, with whom was the Prince Myrsiles: This old King, and this young Prince, received Cyrus with all civility due unto a Conqueror, yet without any base dejection of Spirit: As there appeared a sorrow in their eyes, so also there appeared a constancy in their souls; and Cyrus seeing with what resoluteness they endured so great a misery, said aloud, That they deserved to wear all their lives that Sceptre which they had lost, and that it should not be his fault, if Cyrus did not restore it unto them: And indeed, this generous Prince did so behave himself towards Croessus, and his Son, in such an obliging manner, that it may be said he made a most absolute conquest of them, and gained their hearts by his civility, as well as conquer their Kingdoms by his valour. As soon as Cyrus entered into the Chamber where they were, they advanced towards him: but this minded Prince, making haste to meet them, received them with as much civility, as if it were in times of peace, or as if their present fortune were equal: I could never have believed (said Croessus to his illustrious Conqueror) that I should ever have thought myself able to give thanks unto a Prince who conquered my Crown: Yet Sir, since I owe my life unto you, and since the same hand which pulled me from my Throne, pulled me also from the Scaffold which the King of Assyria's violence caused me to ascend, I think it rather my duty to commend you, then to complain of my misfortune: But Sir, since the life which you have preserved, can neither be glorious nor pleasing unto me, let it suffice I only commend you without giving you thanks, and that I acknowledge you to be worthy of that glory which you possess: I do not desire you should thank me, replied Cyrus, Nor do I fully consent you should commend me; but I cannot endure that you should hold so bad an opinion of the Medean Kings, as to despair of your being in a more happy condition than you are, especially considering, that this Prince (added he, and presented Artamas unto him) is my most dear friend, and considering that I have almost as much credit with Ciaxares, as Artamas hath with Cyrus. The King of Lydia, who had after then once since the taking of Sardis, repented himself of the injustice which he had done the Prince Artamas, did receive him very civilly, yet with much shame, it not being possible he should see him, and not remember the obligements wherein he was bound, when he carried the name of Cleander, and the unjust imprisonment which he caused him to suffer, after he was known to be the Prince Artamas; yet notwithstanding, as he was resolved to acknowledge unto Cyrus, that he did not deserve his misfortune, he did check himself, and said, since Conquerors may impose what Laws they please upon the Conquered, I will believe what you please, and beseech the Prince Artamas to bury all my violences and injuries in Oblivion: It becomes me, replied the Prince of Phrigia, to forget all the miseries of Artamas, but it becomes me also never to forget the obligations wherein Cleander stands bound unto you; therefore Sir, I do promise you, to be unto you as long as I live the very same I was when you honoured me with your friendship: I beseech you Sir (said Cyrus, and interrupted him, speaking to the King of Lydia) renew that old friendship with a Prince, who by many services and much fidelity hath deserved it: The friendship of a King without a Kingdom (replied Croessus, and sighed) ought not to be twice asked, by my most illustrious Conqueror; therefore Sir, I consent unto all you desire of me, and readmit the Prince Artamas into the same place which formerly he possessed in my soul, being extremely sorry that I have not in me a power whereby to recompense his virtue: When I have entreated the King of Medes, replied Cyrus, to recompense your own, I shall let you know, that you have power enough to re●●enerate his, and I wish unto the Heavens you had prevented your misfortune at the beginning of the War, by giving him the Princess Palmis, and restoring me the Princess Mandana: But I beseech you, added Cyrus, Give me leave to ask you, (if I may do it without exasperating your sorrows) by what motives and policy were you engaged in this unjust War? And what was the true reason which moved you to slight the King of Medes and my friendship? No reason (replied Croessus sadly) but your good fortune and my bad: For truly Sir, it doth most clearly appear, that the Gods would never have permitted me to protect the Ravisher of Mandana, but only to make you a Conqueror of my Kingdom: Never believe Sir that you can lose this Princess; and to manifest it unto you, consider, that every carrying her away hath gained you a Kingdom; and be assureed, that it is to make you Conqueror of all Asia, the Gods have suffered she should wander from Province to Province: But oh you unjust Gods (cried he out) Why have you deluded me by Oracles so clear in appearance, and so obscure in reality? Cyrus' perceiving that without any design he had incensed the sorrows of Croessus, to comfort him, would hearken to his complaints, and dive into his thoughts; therefore he desired him to give a reason why he accused the Gods? I accuse them Sir (said he) for advertising me by their Oracles of all the least considerable passages of my life, and deceiving me in the most important business that ever I consulted with them about: When I beseeched them to tell me the issue of the War against you, they answered in these very terms: 
If thou unto this War will go,  
An Empire great thou'lt overthrow.   
Is it just Sir (said this grieved Prince) that after so many offerings unto them, they should so far delude me, as to make me believe I should destroy them, who have destroyed me? Therefore Sir, I beseech you permit me amidst the transport of my sorrows, to send unto Delphos, to the end it may be a testimony unto all posterity, that it is dangerous to be too curious in future matters, and that men ought not to pry too narrowly into the secrets of the Gods; for though I do accuse them of injustice, yet my second thoughts are more reasonable than my first, and that it is myself who am injust in complaining of them; whereas in very truth, I ought only to complain against myself: For indeed the Gods are just, and said truly, since in overthrowing my own Empire, I have overthrown one of the greatest in all Asia: However (replied Cyrus, and interrupted him) I will do my utmost that you may have cause to commend my way of dealing with you, and to sweeten all your bitter misfortunes. In the mean time, if any of your Guards do disobey my commands, and not render you that respect which I would have them, let me be advertised of it; to the end, that their punishment may satisfy you, and justify me. Oh Sir (cried Croessus) I do not wonder that a Prince who knows so well how to use his virtue, should always Conquer: And I wonder less that the King of Assyria hath been conquered by a Prince, whose virtue transcends his: The King of Assyria (replied Cyrus modestly) hath been unfortunate, because his design was unjust; but for the rest, though he hath been ever my enemy, and though he be still my Rival, yet I must needs justify him in some part of that violence which he used towards you; and assure you, that his design was only to terrify you so far, as to make you out of fear to tell where Mandana was, but his intentions never were to put you unto death: It is a thing which I am bound to tell you, because I know it to be a truth; and to tell the sooner, because I cannot endure, that the man whose quality is equal unto yours and mine, should be accused of an action so barbarous. After this, Croessus began again to commend him, the Prince Myrsiles did second him, Artamas, Tigranes, and Anaxaris could not choose also but applaud Cyrus: whose modesty not being able to hear such commendations of himself, was forced to depart a little sooner than otherwise he would from the King of jydia. This unfortunate Prince did entreat Cyrus before he went away, to use well his new conquered Subjects, beseeching him not to take it ill, if he used his best endeavour to be their Protector, though he could not be their King. Cyrus was so moved at this request, that he renewed all the protestations and promises which he formerly made unto Croessus; assuring him, that he would employ all his power with Ciaxares, that he would restore the Crown unto him which he had lost, upon condition that he should become his Vassal, as the King of Armenia was, and that he should follow the Wars until he had released Mandana. And indeed Cyrus was no sooner returned to the Citadel, but he began to write unto the King of Meads, both in the behalf of Croessus, and to render him an account of all passages, intending to dispatch a Post the next morning, and then to be in a readiness for a visit of the Princess Araminta, and to carry with him the Prince Spitridates: The truth is, he could not write without perturbation of mind, and interruptions to himself, for his imagination was filled with thoughts of the Princess Mandana, upon the least noise which he heard, he always thought that some was bringing intelligence of her, and the place where she was carried unto; so that these flattering hopes begot a most horrid renovation of grief, when he found they were deceived. But whilst he was writing in these perturbations of mind, Spitridates was entertaining himself with hopes so full of impatience, that it may be well said, time was a torment unto him, for believing he should see the Princess Araminta the next morning, every minute seemed an Age unto him: As for Sesostris and Artamas, after they had conducted Cyrus unto the Citadel, they returned to the Palace, to see at once those two Princesses who reigned in their souls: The first of these, since he had not of a long time seen his dearest Timaretta, he thought he should never see her enough: And the second, besides the joy which he should have to be with his Princess, he was joyed, that he was able to render an account unto her of the conference between Cyrus and the King her Father, and that he was able to tell her that he was well received. Since these two Princesses had two Chambers which joined together, and since they were both in their own Chambers, which Sesostris and Artamas came to see them, they parted at the doors of the Chambers. But whilst Sesostris was entertaining his dearest Timaretta, and whilst he was protesting that his Love was as violent, as when she was the fairest Shepherdess of all Egypt, and he the most amorous Shepherd of the World. Whilst, I say, Artamas was protesting unto the Princess Palm●, (after he had rendered her an account of all passages bet 〈…〉 〈◊〉 and him) that the alteration in her fortune had wrought no change in his heart, and that he did love her with more zeal and respect, though the King her Father was a Captive, and though he had lost his Crown, than he did before, when she was the Daughter of the most puissant and rich King of all Asia: Whilst (I say) these two illustrious Lovers found some sweetness in discoursing of their past misfortunes and present miseries, Andramites prepared himself to wait upon Cyrus the next morning, when he intended to carry Spitridates unto Araminta, to the end he might the sooner see his beloved Doralisa: Ligdamis also, as well as he had the same design to see his dearest Cleonice: Parmen●des also, who came to Sardis as soon as he heard it was taken, thought of returning to see Cydipe; so that all these Amor●tes being no less amorous than Spitridates, were no less impatient than he, and expected the happy hour with as much restlesseness of mind: They all departed, not so early in the morning as they could have desired, because Cyrus had yet so much business to dispatch, that the Sun was a great height before he took horse; for he had not only his last orders to give unto the messenger whom he sent unto Ciaxares, but he had commands to give concerning the bringing of Menecrates and ●hrasemedes unto Sardis: He had written and sent unto Persipolis, but he had yet to command, that they should go unto certain small Maritine Towns, whose names were out of his memory when he sent unto Ephisus, Milete, Guides, and Cuma; for though in his sending thither he had given orders in general to go unto all the Ports on that Coast; yet because he had not precisely named the Towns which he then remembered, he would send thither, choosing rather to do a hundred things to no purpose, concerning the Quest of his Princess, then to fail in the least circumstance that had any shadow of possibility in doing her service: But at last all business was dispatched, and he departed, first ask pardon of the Prince Spitridates, for keeping him so long from the sight of the Princess Araminta, conjuring him to pardon the fault of an unhappy Lover, who was not so near the sight of her he loved as he was. After this compliment which Spitridates received with the same civility it was expressed, they rid towards the Castle where Cyrus had lodged Araminta: Tigranes knowing the violent disposition of his Brother Phraartes, would also make one in this journey, to prevent any unruly attempt, which his Brother might fall upon at the sight of Spitridates: As for Andramites, Ligdamis, and Parmenides, they waited upon Cyrus at this time, more for their sakes whom they loved, then for any other reason: Aglatidas, who was interest in all these Lovers, was very desirous to be a witness of all their joys, so that he accompanied Cyrus as well as Anaxaris, Artabanes, Chrisantes, Hirmogenes, Leontidas, Megabises, and many others. This Prince took with him two hundred horse for his Guard, conceiving that there was not need of any more, though it was a day's journey in a Country newly conquered, for Croessus had no Troops in the field, the disorder was so great amongst the people, and the Dominion of Cyrus was hoped to be so gentle, that considering ●he state of things, there was no fear of any revolt: Also a great part of the way he was to go, was through the Camp, and their own Quarters, and by consequence less dangerous: But when these Princes were about fifty furlongs from Sardis, Cyrus met a servant of Artabases, unto whom he had committed the Guard of Panthea and Araminta, when he displaced Araspes: This servant came to tell him from his Master, that the Prince Phraartes had carried away the Princess of Pontus: This servant had no sooner openly delivered his message unto Cyrus, but Spitridates gave so sad a cry, that he did most sensibly move the hearts of all who heard him unto pity: As for Cyrus, though he had only a most pure harmless affection unto Araminta, and pity of Spitridates, yet was he most extremely troubled at the accident; the sense of honour, mixing with the tenderness of his soul, caused him to resent very bitterly this little respect which Phraartes had of him in taking away a Princess who was his prisoner: Tigranes for his particular was exceedingly grieved at his Brother's fault; and it had been a difficult matter for a stranger, seeing these three Princes to know which of them was the Lover of the Princess who was carried away: Though the sorrows of Spitridates were a thousand times deeper than those of Cyrus and Tigranes, yet his eyes, his words, and all his actions, could not make it appear how great they were: After his first apprehension of sorrow and despair, he stood still more than a quarter of an hour in a Lethargy of Spirit, which made him hear what others said, as if he understood them not. During all this time of this sad silence, he had such a cloud of dismal melancholy in his face, as made it most apparent, that his soul was in most horrid torments: The first words he uttered were, Is it possible that Artabases, the fidelity of whose heart I make no doubt, should not prevent so great a misfortune? Sir, replied the servant, the great wounds which he hath received upon this occasion, will sufficiently testify, that he hath not failed in the duty which he owes you, and that his extraordinary valour did not at this time fail him: But how is it possible (replied Cyrus, and interrupted him) that Phraartes could execute his design? Sir (replied the servant) to acquaint you exactly how it was, be pleased to know, that when the news of taking Sardis came unto the Castle where we were, all the Soldiers in it looked upon those who were with you, as much more happy than themselves, because there they might enrich themselves with the plunder of that rich Town, insomuch as the very night following, the greater half disbanded themselves, intending to mingle confusedly amongst your victorious Troops, and share with them in their booty, so that by this means the Garrison was extremely weakened: My Master determined to acquaint you with it, but since he was to keep such as were prisoners, and no prisoners, such as you looked upon rather as their Protector, then as their Conqueror, he conceived that it was not necessary to acquaint you, especially since there was no likelihood that any should attempt their releasement. Thus fearing lest you should tax him with negligence, he would not advertise you of Soldiers his flight, but rested quiet as before. After this Sir, so it chanced, that the same day you went in quest of the Princess Mandana, the Prince Phraartes came to see the Princess Araminta, who gave him most cold entertainment. As soon as he had left her, she sent for my Master to complain unto him of you, saying, that she had entreated you to prevent Phraartes from seeing her; but he telling her, that you were ignorant of his coming, and that he came out of Sardis after your departure, it was some consolation unto her, conceiving then that she had more right to treat him ill: But truly, I being at the Princess Chamber to speak with Hesionide, when he came unto her the second time, I was a Witness that her language was so sharp, and bitter unto him, as I admire he would ever carry away that Princess, who expressed such a terrible aversion towards him. As soon as he was gone out of her Chamber, she charged me to tell my Master, that she conjured him not to let Phraartes enter any more into her Chamber: And the truth is Sir, Artabases went unto him, desiring him to see her no more, but to go out of the Castle. Phraartes as violent as his humour is, did upon this occasion curb himself, and answered him with so much civility, that he did not think it fit to force a man of his Quality out, without special order from you: And since he was then ignorant where you were, he could not advertise you of the passage; so that contenting himself with keeping Phraartes from going unto the Chamber of the Princess Araminta, and could not in any reason fear, that a Prince who had only one Page with him, would ever attempt any thing of force. During this time, Phraartes would often visit Cleonice, Ar●alice, Lycaste, Doralisa, Cydip●, Candiope, and Phorenice, with all the rest of the prisoners, discoursing continually with them of the Princess Araminta: When he was not with any of them, he would walk under the Window of that Princess, from whence he sometimes saw her against her will; for you know Sir, she lodged in a low Chamber towards the Garden: But whilst he carried it thus, his Page, who was very observant of him, was continually talking and playing with those Soldiers, who were oft from the Guard. In this manner Sir did Phraartes behave himself until yesterday, when one of those you sent unto Ephesus, to Guides, to Cumes, to Miletes, and many other places, after you had met with the Prince S 〈…〉 ridates, came to this Castle, where he lodged, because it was in his way: So that he meeting with Phraartes, who was walking before the Gate, where by chance I was, I saw he knew him: He asked him from whence he came, and whether he went? The other answered, that you Sir had met with Spitridates, that he had told you how the King of Pontus was embarked with the Princess Mandana at a Port called Artames, that you treated that Prince with a thousand welcomes, and that you went both together unto Sard 〈…〉 Phraartes no sooner understood that the Prince Spitridates was with you, but he changed 〈◊〉, causing him to repeat over again what before he told him: After which▪ 〈…〉 but that Spitridates was the very same who was so much talked of for 〈…〉 lan●●, which this man said was between him he had seen, and 〈…〉 without all doubt he would be shortly with Araminta, and 〈…〉 Princess unto Sardis: So that it is probable, for this reason he 〈…〉 that design which he was hatching when he came first to the 〈…〉, because we understanding this morning, that his 〈…〉 with that ●●nall number of Soldiers which we had, he had 〈…〉 presents and gifts, for one of them who is now wounded, hath discovered the truth unto us. But in conclusion Sir, not to abuse your patience any longer, presently after all the Ladies were retired unto their Chambers, and Artabases according to his custom had gone the Round, visited the Guards, and was entered into his Chamber, Phraartes came out with his men, from the place where we thought he had been asleep; so that assembling all the Soldiers whom he had suborned, the rest were so small a number, as they were not able to resist their companions: Also to affright them, he threatened to kill them. After which, dividing themselves, some went unto the Chamber of the Princess Araminta, and others unto the lodging of Artabases, to prevent him from relieving: And in short Sir, their design took such effect, as they carried away the Princess, and we not able to hinder them; not but that the noise which they made in breaking the Windows of the Chamber, and the cries of the Ladies did awaken us at the first. Artabases was wounded at the beginning of the tumult, and some felt the weight of his arm, who would have kept him from coming out to the relief of the Princess; yet at last he received so many Wounds, and lost so much blood, that he fell down as dead, and was no longer able to oppose the violence of Phraartes: In short, he has thriven in his unjust design, and hath made use of some of my Master's Horses to carry away the Princess, and indeed leaving none that were able to follow, for he mounted upon them all the Complies of his Crime. I shall not relate unto you Sir, the cries and tears of Cleonice, Doralisa, Pherenice, Candiope, Licaste, Arpalice, and all the rest of the Ladies: But give me leave to tell you Sir, that as soon as my Master came unto himself, he commanded me to get a horse at the next house, and to come in all haste to acquaint you with this disastrous adventure, and his sorrows, which Sir is such, as he would not let me stay a minute to get his Wounds dressed, though I assure you there was great need of it. As long as this discourse of the servant lasted, the soul of Spitridates was in torment, his sorrows for the carrying away the Princess was not all the cause of it, for many pangs of an unjust jealousy of Cyrus began to revive, and his fear was, that it was Cyrus who caused Araminta to be carried away: For since he did not yet know that Phraartes was in Love with her, he could not devise what motive should induce him unto that act of Violence. On the other side, the sorrow and anger which he saw in the eyes of Cyrus, did thwart his unjust opinion: Also considering that Artabases was very much Wounded, he could not understand why Cyrus should let such a man to perish, whom he esteemed worthy to have the Guard of two great Princesses: However, though he see some reason on the one side, and no appearance of any on the other, yet he could not compose his resolutions, and his soul suffered more torment, than his tongue was able to express: But these jealous thoughts had no long time of resting in his heart, for as soon as the servant of Artabases had ended his relation of all the business, Cyrus expressed himself so obligingly, so generously, and so tenderly unto Spitridates, that his candid language had a more prevalent operation, than reason only and truth had, for he did quite eradicate those sparks of jealousy which began to kindle in the mind of that Prince, and which would not suffer him to complain against the cruelty of his adventure, not well knowing whether he should quarrel with Cyrus, as the Ravisher of Araminta, and as his Rival, or complain against him as his friend, and as the Protector of his Princess. But when he heard Tigranes ask Cyrus and him pardon for the violent crime of his Brother, and said, That he himself would be the first who would help to punish him, and that he would never leave Cyrus until he had found that Princess which he had lost: And when he understood from the mouth of Cyrus, that the Prince Phraartes fell in Love with the Princess Araminta, as soon as she came unto Artaxates, his soul found some ease amidst his sorrows; and then he began to hearken and answer unto the sincere protestations which Cyrus made unto him: You know (said this free-minded Prince) That I am more obliged than any other to interest myself in what concerns you, since I owe my life unto the Queen Arbiana your Mother, at that time when she received me into her house in Bythinia: For though she did think me to be her Son, yet I must set a value upon her cares of me; and truly she treated me so generously after the discovery of her error, that though there were no other reasons then this, yet I should think myself obliged to serve you with my real affection: But generous Prince, I have more prevalent reasons then that; your own merit, Noble Prince, hath arguments enough to oblige me; the Virtue of the Princess Araminta requires my best services, and the injury which I have received from Phraartes, makes the matter as much m●●e as yours, since the Prince Tigranes, before whom I speak, is of a 〈…〉 generous soul, I am confident he will allow me to complain against his Brother: But not to lose a minute of precious time, let us haste unto the place where the crime was committed, and try if we can find which way they took: Then would Spitridates have dissuaded Cyrus from going any further towards the Castle, desiring of him only fifty horse, with whom he himself only would pursue the Ravisher, but Cyrus would not be dissuaded: So that all of them setting in all hast forward, they came thither betimes, where they understood more than they could by the servant of Artabases, whom they found so ill of his Wounds, that Cyrus had not power to accuse him for not acquainting him with the flight of his Soldiers, which was the cause of the Princess Araminta's being carried away: Spitridates not being able to rest all vight in the Castle, entreated Cyrus that he might go out the same night, and that he would lend him fifty horses: Cyrus then excused himself a thousand times unto that Prince, in that he could not quit the interests he had in Mandana for his, and in that he should part from him before he had recovered Araminta, conjuring him to acquaint him with all passages concerning her, to the end he might send him an Army if need were, protesting, that there was nothing which he would not do for his satisfaction, and the liberty of so virtuous a Princess; adding, that since Tigranes would go with him, there would be less need of his valour. Spitridates at the first did oppose the intentions of Tigranes to follow him; but afterwards, considering that his presence might be useful, he accepted his offer, and went together, after they had rested their horses some two or three hours, during which time they had intelligence which way Phraartes did first take: But in lieu of fifty horses, Cyrus gave a hundred unto Spitridates, who would not see those Ladies who were in the Castle, for his soul was too much perplexed for any compliments. When this Prince was ready to take horse, Cyrus embraced him, and told him, that he was sorry there was as great a resemblance in their misfortunes as in their faces, and wished he might be more happy in releasing Araminta, than himself had been in releasing the Princess Mand●na; after which, these two Princes parted. Spitridates was no sooner gone, but Cyrus resolved to return unto Sardis the next morning betimes, and therefore went to see all the Ladies in the Castle, and to dispose them for a removal unto Sardis, and also to cheer them up after the disaster of the Princess Araminta, knowing very well, that they all did most tenderly love her: He found them all in the Chamber of Lycaste, where Andramites, Parmanides, and ●igdamis were before him, for they were not able to be any longer in a place where the persons whom they loved were, and not to see them. Though Cyrus was full of sorrow, both for his own misfortunes and his friends, yet he carried himself with such civility towards all the Ladies, as there was not one who did not highly applaud him.  
After he had in a condoling manner spoke concerning the Princess Araminta's carrying away, he told Lycasta, that to prevent the like misfortune in Arpalice, her Lovers must be agreed, and their differences ended, and therefore he conjured him to return unto Sardis; speaking also afterwards in a most obliging manner unto Arpalice, Cydipe, and Candiope: Afterwards he talked a while unto Doralisa and Pherenice, concerning the Queen of Susiana, and also spoke something unto Leonice in favour of Ligdamis. But Mandana being the principal aim of all his thoughts, he asked them all in general, Whether they did not pity him in his sufferings of so many such sorrows as Spitridates had now trial of? And there was not one amongst them, who did not employ their best eloquence to persuade Cyrus, that they did extremely interest themselves in the misfortunes of that Princess and himself. Cleonice among the rest, to testify her zeal, said, That as oft as she remembered how and by whom the Princess Mandana had been carried away, she conceived such an extreme hatred against men, as there was not above two or three men in the whole Universe, whom she did not hate: Really, said she, I do not think there is any such pernicious Villains in the World, as those who carry away Women without their consents; I will not except so much as Assassinates, Poisoners, or Traitors; for revenge, or such like, may sometimes have causes so considerable, as may justify, or at least extenuate the most bloody effects: But can any one persuade me, that it is a good reason for the carrying away of a Woman, to say he was in Love with her? It is impossible, for where one loves another, he will do nothing but what shall make himself loved, and not such things as will procure hatred: I must confess, (said Doralisa, and interrupted her) That to look upon the matter as you do, you have cause to hate all men: But to consider it as I do, I think that I have cause to say, that by the same reason I should despise almost all Women; and I think myself able to maintain, that if there never had been any who had pardoned their Ravishers, the Princess Mandana, nor the Princess Araminta, had never been taken away: But since every man can fetch some example of some Lady or other, who was appeased after she was taken away, they flatter themselves in a hope to thrive no worse than they did who carried them away: So that it may well be said, that it is the weakness of some Women which caused the insolent boldness of men, for never any did attempt the committing of a crime, without hopes of thriving by it: This which you say, replied Cleonice, Does not justify men, but only excuse them: 'Tis true, said Doralisa, But they have something to say for themselves, more than Women have who pardons those who take them away, since, as I conceive, they are without all manner of excuse: What can they say to authorise their imbecility, but that their souls were of a base mould, and their hearts pusilanimious? Are they not Mistresses of their own lives, though not of their liberties, in case any violence be offered? But certainly those who can pardon such a crime, can pardon any thing else: For my part, I must confess ingenuously, That I had much rather be accused for voluntary abandoning my heart, unto a man whom I should think worthy to enjoy it, then suffer myself to be persuaded by a man who treated me ill, and carried me away: I conceive the opinion of Doralisa to be so generous and reasonable, replied Cyrus, that I am persuaded there is not a Lady in all the company who will contradict her: I assure you Sir, replied she, that peradventure there is some one who will allow of it, rather out of respect to you, than out of her own opinion: I would gladly know, said Arpalice, Whom it is you suspect not to be of your opinion: Since I will assure you, that it is not yourself, replied Doralisa, and since I confess myself to be persuaded that you would never pardon Menecrates, if he should carry you away: You need not importune me any further, and to speak sincerely, I do not know: The scope of what I said was only this, that I verily believe there are few Women of firm and generous souls, and that I might the more applaud the illustrious Mandana, who though she hath had three of the greatest Princes of the World ask her pardon for carrying her away, and yet would never grant them, choosing rather to see all Asia in a flame, then yield unto the desires, sighs▪ and tears of her Ravishers: For my part, I do confess, that when I had the honour to see her at Susa, I was more ravished at the constancy of her soul, then at the charms of her beauty or Wit, though she be the most absolute accomplished Princess of the World: But to testify, that all Women are not of my opinion, Give me leave to tell you, that some of the Queen of Susiana's Women, finding the King of Pontus to be a very accomplished man, and seeing in Love and much perplexed, they murmured against the stubbornness of the Princess Mandana; and wished her of a little more flexible nature: I beseech you, said Pherenice, declare that I was not of that opinion: I do not remember you were, replied Doralisa, but though you were, the illustrious Cyrus would think never the worse of you; for than you had not the honour to know him: Doubtless I should not, replied Cyrus; But I do confess, I had rather she were not of that mind; and you have much more obliged me then I thought I was, by acquainting me with your opinion: If you be obliged, replied Licasta, unto all those who wish the Ravishers of Mandana may perish, and that you may be happy, you are obliged unto the greatest part of all Asia: Since I do believe Madam, replied Cyrus, that you measure the thoughts of others by your own, your expression doth infinitely both please and oblige me: But because I would not be too troublesome unto her who is a wisher of my good fortune, by staying too late, I shall take my leave of her until to morrow at night, when I shall hope for the honour of seeing her at Sardis, with all this honoured company, whom Andramites and Ligdamis will convey thither: Methinks Sir (replied Doralisa cunningly) That since it is requisite your Convoy and Guard should be stronger than ours, you were best to take Andramites along with you, and leave only Ligdamis with us: Since I think myself a little better versed in the Orders of War than you are, replied Cyrus and smiled, I hope you will excuse me, if I do not follow your advice in this, though I will obe 〈…〉 in every thing else: In saying so, Cyrus rise up, without staying for the thanks of Andramites, and after he had saluted all the Ladies with extraordinary grace and 〈…〉 retired unto the Chamber which was prepared for him, where he reposed himself 〈…〉 break of day, and then commanding a care to be had of Artabases, he departed, but was with a melancholy soul, for thinking that this accident unto a Prince whom he so much esteemed, and unto a Prince who resembled him, was a very bad Omen; and considering, that the advantage of the Princess Araminta, was now out of his power, it grieved him very much, for she was Sister to the King of Pontus, and was a very good Pawn which he had lost, so that every step of way was a fresh thought of melancholy: Anaxaris kept the nearest him, and to him he spoke the most that day. After a long descant upon his misfortunes, Cyrus upon a sudden began to slack his pace, and looking very obligingly upon him: How long valiant stranger (said he unto him) Will you hide yourself from me, and put me to the necessity of saying, that you are the man whom of all the world I know best, and know least? I am most confident there is none knows your worth better than I do; I know you are of an excellent composure, I am acquainted with the accuteness and excellency of your Spirit; Generosity shines in your soul, your valour is absolutely Heroic; but for all this, I know not who you are, nor know whom to ask; therefore, dear Anaxaris, I beseech you give me leave to ask the question, and let me not be denied: I wish Sir, I could deserve those commendations you are pleased to give me: And I wish also, that I were able to satisfy your curiosity: But since it is convenient for me to conceal myself, as since it will not at all avail you to know, I hope you will not put me to necessity of disobeying you: Though all this doth but augment my curiosity, replied Cyrus, yet because I love you, I will check my desires, upon condition you will be persuaded, that my greatest reason which moved me to desire the knowledge of whom you were, was my desires of serving you: Anaxaris returned thanks unto Cyrus for the honour which he did him, but it was in such terms as persuaded that Prince, that Anaxaris was of such a Quality, as was more used to receive than give thanks. Since now they drew near the Camp, Cyrus, though of giving out several orders as he passed, he visited many of the chief Commanders, so that it was almost night when he came to Sardis: At his entrance in he met Mazares, who came to meet him, and they saluted with the same civility which they usually showed unto each other, but in such a melancholy manner, as made it manifest there was no news to be heard of Mandana: I will not ask you (generous Rival) said Cyrus unto him, Whether you know any thing concerning our Princess, for your sadness speaks you do not: 'Tis very true Sir (replied Mazares) I do not know any thing of the Princess more than what you knew yesterday when you parted; But I know another thing which will be a Wonder unto you, and which I will immediately tell you: Since it is not any thing which relates unto the Princess, replied Cyrus, you may tell me what you please, and I shall hearken unto it without any impatience: I do not say, replied Mazares, That it does not relate unto Mandana, but only that I do not know any thing of that Princess, for if I had said so, I had said untruly, since it is to be believed, that the King of Assyria is gone to seek her: Is the King of Assyria gone? (replied Cyrus with astonishment?) Yes Sir, answered Mazares, One of his men whom he left with a Letter for you, told me, that he himself took horse about four hours since, and that he intended to ride all night, and do what he could to be the first who should know where the Princess Mandana is.  
Cyrus no sooner heard this strange news, but he changed colour, and choler began to mix with his sorrows: He was afraid the King of Assyria had received some secret intelligence of the place where Mandana was: It vexed him that the violence of his nature should prompt him unto a thing which would be taken for excess of Love: He was afraid that he would find out some ways to come unto Mandana, and deliver her, though there was no likelihood of it: As for Mazares, his thoughts were as turbulent as those of Cyrus; for though his Love was without any hope, and though he was resolved to look no further than the liberty of Mandana, yet many times his heart would sparkle out some hatred of his Rival, and Love of the Princess Mandana; so that he stood in need of all his reason to expel and smother these gusts of his old passion. At this time he had no leisure to vent his thoughts, for Cyrus had so great a desire to see what the King of Assyria had writ, that he sent in all haste for the man who had the Letter, appointing him to be brought unto the Citadel, whither he went, to expect him with an impatience suitable to the grandeur of his Love; yet he was not long in that restless mood, for the King of Assyria's Officer, knowing that Cyrus was returned to Sardis, came unto him at the same instant that he was sent for; so that within a quarter of an hour after Cyrus came to the Citadel, he received the Letter, which he so impatiently longed for: He opened the Letter in all haste, and read it so fast, as if he would have known all the Contents of it in one instant; yet notwithstanding his impatient haste, he was long in reading it; for the King of Assyria writing it in haste, the Character was not legible, yet in conclusion he picked out these words.  
The King of Assyria to the too happy CYRUS.  
NEver think that the design which I have undertaken to go in quest of the Princess, shall make me decline the least jot from our old conditions; on the contrary, leaving you in the head of a hundred thousand men, and I going alone to discover if I can where the Princess it, the confidence which I have in your Word, obligeth you to keep exact touch with me: As for my part, never fear that I will fail, since a King without a Kingdom or Army, is not in a condition of daring to do it, though he would. Give me leave then to go and be your Spy, since it is the pleasure of Fate I can do nothing else, as long as we believed the Princess Mandana to be in Armenia, or knew that she was in Sardis, the hope of delivering her, did suffer me to endure the sight of you and Mazares: But now, since we know not where she is, and since I shall be less useless in the Army, than perhaps I shall be elsewhere, I will quit myself from the sight of my Rivals, not but that I know the height of your generosity in all that relates unto me: But I had rather that the Princess Mandana should accuse you of too little Love unto her, in your too much civility unto me, than she should accuse me of too little affection unto her, in the too acknowledgement which I have of you: Therefore I leave it to the public voge, either to commend you, or blame me for what we do: However, once more, I incite you to the observation of our conditions, and remember always, that you can never enjoy Mandana, until you have ruined  
The King of Assyria.  
After Cyrus had read this Letter, his soul was a little more at ease, although he found many things which nettled him, and which revived in his heart that old hatred which he had towards this furious Rival, when he passed under the name of Philidaspes, and when he himself under the name of Artamenes; but his comfort was, that he perceived the King of Assyria's departure was only an effect of his fantastical humourt, and of his violent temper, not that he knew any particulars of the Princess Mandana; yet the remembrance of that favourable Oracle which this Prince received from the Temple of Jupiter, Belas at Babylon, did somewhat sting his apprehension: And since he could not think upon that Oracle, but he must needs also remember that sad answer which the Sibyl gave him, these thoughts revived some fears in him; yet notwithstanding, when he considered, that the plausible Oracle of Croessus had been ill interpreted, his hopes revived. In the mean time, since he found extraordinary virtue to be in the Prince Mazares, and since he did not then look upon him as his Rival, he showed him the King of Assyria's Letter, as if he had been his intimate friend. These two Princes did discourse a while upon the violent humour of their Rival, and of the design which he could have; and the more they considered it, the more they believed it to be a mere Vagary of his humour. As they were in these thoughts, Feraulas came in, who came to acquaint Cyrus, that he had brought Arianita and Timonide unto Sardis; and that he had brought that Lady unto the Palace, unto whom Cylenise had given half of her Chamber. Cyrus, who loved all that belonged to his Princess, was very glad to know that Arianita was better than when he last saw her, though she was not always favourable unto him; and he appointed Feraulas to have a care of her, desiring also Tegeus, whom he see in his Chamber among the rest, to tell Cylenise, that he took all her good offices done unto Arianita, as done unto himself. Presently after, Ligdamis and Arianita came in, who told Cyrus, that all the Ladies which he see the night before, were come to Sardis; and since they had no desire to separate, they were all lodged at the house of Licasta's Sister. But Cyrus not liking that, he sent to entreat them they would be pleased to lodge in the Palace, which was of capacity enough to lodge them all conveniently; which offer, after once refusal, they accepted; So as it may well be said, That never was there such a company of Beauties as this was in the Palace of Croessus: 'Tis very true, every one of them was not equally satisfied: There was three of them who were unfortunate, and the rest very happy: Timaretta was all hopes, and had nothing to fear; Sesostris was living, Sesostris was faithful, and Heracleon was dead; so that nothing wanted to complete their contentment, but to return into Egypt, where Amasis did earnestly desire them. On the other side, Croessus was as unfortunate, as Timaretta was happy; and all his consolation was in the generosity of his Conqueror. The Prince Myrsiles, though he lost the hopes of a Crown, yet obtained of the Gods the liberty of his speech; but he only employed the use of that Organ in lamenting his misfortune, it was a benefit too dear to be sensible of. As for the Princess Palmis, since Artamas proved so highly generous and constant; and finding Croessus was well received, and the King of Phrigia was not opposite to his design, she had reason to be very well satisfied, if she could have without sorrow seen the King her Father, and the Prince her Brother turned out of the Throne, and made Captives. As for Ligdamis and Cleonice, they were the happiest of all, and enjoyed all the sweets of a most pure love and friendship: As for Arpalice, the incertainty of what agreement Cyrus would make between Thrasimedes and Menecrates, did keep her in a restless condition, though yet she hoped, that at the request of Andramites, he would favour the first of these: Cydipe for her part, she was not sorry to see that her beauty did eclipse that of Cleoxene, in the fancy of Parmenides: Candiope thought strange she could hear no news of Philiston: And to say truth, there were very few who had not their perplexities, not only in the Palace and the Citadel, but also in all the great Town; for certainly, there was then a strange kind of tumultuous constellation, which moved those who had not business, to make some; and questionless every one was a sufferer, either in the person of their friends, or their own: Yet the behaviour of Cyrus towards Croessus, and the Prince Myrsiles, did so win the hearts of the people, that he was as safe in Sardis as he could be, either in Persipolis, or Ecbatan. The next morning Lycaste, and all the Beauties who came to Sardis, went to visit the two Princesses, who received them according to their deserts. The Prince Myrsiles, who had the liberty to go unto the Chamber of the Princess his Sister, with whom all this pleasant company was, he was there also, but his design was only to see Doralisa, whom he had not seen since she went from Sardis to Susa with Panthea: So that after he had addressed his compliment unto the Princess Timaretta, and whispered with the Princess Palmis, he asked their permission to go nearer Doralisa, since she was then far off the Princesses, and busy in talk with Candiope, she heard not what he said: So that when he came near her, she thought he would have expressed himself by the help of that Table Book, which heretofore he used too wittily, when Aesop was in the Lydian Court; for though she heard he was not mute, yet she could not imagine that he could speak, or at least speak well: The cause of her error was, because she did not consider that he was never deaf: She was extremely surprised; when she heard him speak better than most did, who spoke always: So that when she heard his first compliment, in lieu of answering, or testifying her sorrows for the misfortunes of his house and Country, she could not choose but go back, and look upon him with admiration: How Sir, said she unto him, Is it not above five or six days since you could speak? No, no, it is impossible: Most certainly you spoke long in secret, otherwise you could not speak so well in public: And certainly you have been silent for the time past; purposely to put all other to silence for the future: Your language, replied the Prince Myrsiles, Is not perhaps so pleasing as you think; for truly these excessixe applauds you give me, does argue, that my silence did much displease you, and was troublesome, since you think this little which I speak to be worthy of admiration. Doralisa, who was recollecting herself, considered that she had commanded this Prince too much: And to carry it more prudently, it were better to commend him less, and lament his misfortunes more: So that to repair her error, she altered his discourse, and began to talk with him upon all the misfortunes of Panthea, and of all the alterations which she found in Lydia at her return: However, said she unto him, You have this advantage, that your Conqueror is the most generous Prince in the World: 'Tis true, replied Myrsiles, But for all that, most amiable Doralisa, The King my Father is the most miserable, since it is a very great misfortune for those who are used to conser favours upon others, to be put unto the necessity of receiving them from another: Yet this is some consolation, that we are subjected unto one of the greatest Princes of the World, and unto one whom you esteem, and unto one whom I know you are obliged: 'Tis very true Sir, answered Doralisa, I am obliged unto him, but I wish that you were not in a condition to be so; and that on the contrary, the King had obliged unto him, which he might have done, by rendering back the Princess Mandana. What's past, replied Myrsiles, cannot be recalled; and in lieu of acknowledging those faults which cannot be repaired, we must endeavour to endure our bad fate, like men who are worthy of better: And to testify that I do all I can to sweeten my miseries, I protest unto you, I find some sweetness to think, that the Gods, who once had made me above the Quality of the amiable Doralisa, hath now made me her equal: Oh Sir (replied Doralisa, and interrupted him) Your civility is excessive; and it had been a better wish, to have desired the Gods, that I might be exalted unto your Quality, then to say you find any sweetness in their debasing you down unto mine: Since the first of these is not in my power, and the other really is so, you need not wonder, I should choose rather to tell the thoughts of my heart, then to trouble myself in making unprofitable wishes. Doralisa was going to answer when Cyrus entered, and broke off their discourse: but that which most surprised Lycaste, Arpalice, Cydipe, and most of all Candiope, was to see Philistion enter amongst those who accompanied him; they could not imagine so readily as they wished, why he would not see them before he saw Cyrus; they durst not change their places to speak unto him, nor could he come handsomely unto them, though he much desired it: But presently after the Prince Sesostris entered, and some of those who were with Candiope went out. Philistion at last came up, and talked with as much delight, as before his impatience was great. Candiope for her part received him with abundance of joy, insomuch as it was easy for Doralisa to observe, that there was a greater love between them, than Candiope had spoke of, when she related the adventures of Thrasimedes and Arpalice, for she took notice that Philistion was so taken up with looking upon Candiope, with speaking and harkening unto her, that he never so much as thought of any civility unto Lycaste, Arpalice, and Cydipe who were close by him, and it was not long before she told Candiope what she thought.  
Doralisa then hearing the name of Philistion, when Cyrus presented him unto Palmis, and knew very well that it was the same Philistion who shared in the adventures of Arpalice, seeing with what earnestness and affection Candiope and he talked together, she went towards Candiope, and pulling her gently by the Gown; I pray tell me (said she cunningly) Whether this Philistion unto whom you speak, is that Philistion, who is the friend of Thrasimedes, and who counterfeited Arcon so well, as for my part I cannot imagine it is he. Candiope was so surprised at the discourse of Doralisa, that she blushed, imagining that it was because the air and garb of Philistion did not please her, and that the Idea which he had form by the recital which she had made of him to her, was more advantageous for Philistion, than that conceit which himself begot: So that being much ashamed, and fuller of anger than she would suffer to appear, which yet appeared more than she would have it, she asked her friend, Why she made a question, Whether he she saw was that same Philistion of whom she heard her speak: The reason why I did not believe it to be him, replied Doralisa, Because you told me, that there was only terms of esteem betwixt you and him, on a kind of slight affection, which you could not phrase either Love or friendship; and which was of such a nature only, as that you would speak well of each other in all places, and this is all the proofs of his affection you ever had from him; So that finding in the face of this Philistion the joy of a Lover, who sees his Mistress after a long absence, you may well pardon me if I doubted whether Philistion was Philistion: If you believe, as you say, (replied Candiope, and both smileed and blushed) You were very malicious to interrupt me: To deserve the title which you give me (answered she) I profess that I will not suffer you to speak with Philistion in private all this day, unless you entreat me to let you talk with him: Then I will entreat you, replied Candiope, For there are some things of importance which he began to tell me, the which I must needs know, because they will facilitate the agreement between Thrasimedes and Menecrates: No, no, replied Doralisa, That shall not serve your turn; for if you do not entreat me, and confess that I do you a pleasure in it in consideration of yourself, I will not let you be in quietness: I beseech you let it satisfy (replied she and smiled) That I entreat you only for the Love of Philistion: I will, answered Doralisa, Upon condition you will promise me, to tell me what he saith unto you: I do protest I will, said Candiope, and turned towards Philistion, who really had something to impart unto her, which did conduce to the reconcilement of Thrasimedes and Menecrates, though Candiope said so unto Doralisa, as an excuse of herself. Also after that this counterfeit A●●on had expressed himself as fully as Love could prompt a Lover after a long absence, and had assured her of the fidelity of his heart, and protested that ●he never saw her so fair and lovely in all his life, as at this his return: Then he told her the reason why he did not follow Thrasimedes, when he came into Sardis, which was, because he was forced to stay in Halicarnassus, by reason of some Wounds he had received in a combat, in which he was engaged, concerning the interests of both Arpalice, and of one of his Sisters. Candiope not comprehending how Arpalice, who was of Patara, could have any interest mixed with a Sister of Philistion, who was of Halicarnassus, seemed to be much surprizeed: But for her satisfaction, Philistion told her, how he had a Sister whose name was Androclea, who was loved by a man of Quality in this Town, named Ephialtes, whom she much disliked, but durst not show it, because she had an imperious Mother, who would needs have her marry him; that whilst Ephialtes was absent, Menecrates and Parmenides chanced to come unto Halicarnassus: When were they in that Town? (said Candiope and interrupted him.) They were there, replied Philistion, after their departure from Apamea, and whilst Thrasimedes and I were at Patara; So that whilst Thrasimedes fell in Love with the Mistress of Menecrates, Menecrates fell in Love with my Sister at Halicarnassus: Was Menecrates in love with your Sister? (replied Candiope.) Doubtless he was, replied Philistion, and the worst was, my Sister had as great an inclination to him, as she had aversion unto Ephialtes; So that she being easily persuaded unto a thing which she much desired, she believed he loved her, and he quickly perceived that she did not hate him; and by this means there grew so great an amity betwixt them, as to impart all their secrets unto each other: This being so, my Sister acquainted him that her Mother would marry her against her will unto Ephialtes, and Menecrates also acquainted her, that his friends would likewise engage him unto a Lady of Licia, whom he loved not. Thus this conformity augmenting their affections, they grew to such a point, as to promise each other to use their best endeavours that they might marry together; So that when Menecrates departed from Halicarnassus, he told my Sister, That he went to use all his endeavours for breaking off with Arpalice, and that as soon as it was done, he would return unto our Town: But he being of such an humour, as very often to begin Love fantastically, and so to end it, he forgot my Sister as soon as he was out of her sight; for indeed you know how he behaved himself at his return to Patara, how Cydipe for a while did take him, and how the love of Thrasimedes to Arpalice revived the love of Menecrates unto the Beauty. In the mean time, my Sister being nothing of the temper of Menecrates, when Ephialtes came to her, he was coursely entertained, and all the authority of a Mother could not compel Androclea to marry him. This was the state of things, most amiable Candiope, when Thrasimedes and I returned from Halicarnassus, after we had left you at Patara: Since the Love of Menecrates and my Sister was closely carried. I was ignorant of it at my return; but afterwards, my mother dying, as well as the Father of Thrasimedes, and Ephialtes addressing himself unto me for my Sister, as one whom my Mother had promised unto him, I pressed Androclea to tell me why she would not marry him? And she being driven to the necessity of giving me a reason for her proceedings, she confessed the whole truth unto me. I no sooner knew this, but designing to advance the marriage of Thrasimedes with Arpalice, and break off that of Menecrates and her, I consulted with Thrasimedes, and told Ephialtes, that not being of the same humour of my Mother, nor having the same power over my Sister which she had, I could not force her to marry him; and therefore I wished him to desist from any further thoughts of it, intending afterwards to return unto Patara, and to carry Androclea thither also, under a pretence of consulting with the Oracle, to the end I might summon Menecrates unto his promise, and to trouble all his designs. But Ephialtes would not permit me to do as I intended, for he being of a most violent and hasty temper, and deep in Love, he could not brook my refusal of forcing my Sister to accomplish my Mother's promise; So that he sent me a challenge, and we fought, unknown to Thrasimedes, I had the good fortune to get the better, and to make him quit his pretences; but I had the misfortune also to be much Wounded, and could not follow Thrasimedes when he got into Sardis, which doubtless I had done, if my hurts had permitted me. In the mean time, since I was not able to live out of your sight, and since I had promised Thrasimedes to make use of the Love which Menecrates bore unto my Sister, I brought Androclea with me, intending to leave her at a Frontier Town of our Country which joins upon Licia, and which is not far from hence, where we had some friends, to the end that when I had found Menecrates, she might be nearer the place where I knew he would be: But hearing by the public talk, that Sardis was taken, and also by a Halicarnassean Soldier, who was returning unto his Country loadened with booty, who said, That Thrasimedes and Menecrates were both in the power of Cyrus, and that there were some Lician Ladies which went out of Sardis, who were sharers in the interest of those two prisoners, I collected that it must needs be you; So that without more delay, I took a resolution of coming hither, and bringing my Sister with me; So that taking the benefit of a Convoy of Cyrus his Troops, we came safely to Sardis without any danger; but since no strangers were suffered to enter, whose names were not presented unto Cyrus, I answered unto those who asked mine, by the name of Philistion, and that I was friend unto a valiant man who came into Sardis, and who Cyrus treated so well: They told that Prince positively the very same words which I told them: so that the name of Thrasimedes, caused me to be brought unto him, after I had conducted my Sister unto the place where the stranger Ladies lodged. This Prince received me very well, and told me, that I came opportunely to be a witness of that accords which he would that day make between Thrasimedes and Menecrates. I no sooner heard this, but I took the liberty to tell him, that he could not justly do it, unless first he did me the honour to give me a little audience, and he consenting unto it, the same hour I told him what now I told you: Afterwards, he commanded me to follow him hither, telling me, that he would go unto the Chamber of Lycaste, whether he would have Thrasimedes and Menecrates brought, to the end he might reconcile their differences: The matter will not be difficult, replied Candiope, after this which you have told me; but I do conceive it requisite, that Lycaste and Arpalice know what you have told me, before any accommodation be made. Philistion, conceiving what Candiope did say to be reasonable, permitted her to advertise her friends of what she thought fit: Before Cyrus began to speak of the business between Thrasimedes and Menecrates: And Candiope had no sooner imparted it unto Lycaste and Arpalice; but Cyrus addressing himself to the first of these, I intended, said he unto her, to have come unto your Chamber, purposely to endeavour the reconciling of two friends, by setting Thrasimedes and Menecrates at liberty: But since there is some difficulty in the business, to conceive it were more expedient to take the advice to these two great Princes, before whom I speak, and of these two Princes, upon condition notwithstanding, that the fair Arpalice consent unto it: Arpalice, replied Lycaste, is not so accustomed unto her own will, that it is necessary to consult with her thereupon: therefore Sir, I beseech you follow the Dictates of your own will without any further information of hers; And indeed Sir you may judge by the blushes in her cheeks, that she has not confidence enough to tell you what she thinks: I can desire nothing Sir (replied Arpalice modestly) But what shall please you, and therefore it is not necessary my words should express my thoughts: Since so (said Cyrus unto Lycaste) I beseech you Madam, let the matter be before such an illustrious company: My will Sir, said she unto him, Is what shall most please you, hoping that the more illustrious persons there are, who shall give their votes in favour of him who shall be happy, the more patient will he be, against whom the sentence is given. After this, Cyrus who had a most admirable memory, and rare eloquence, and who knew how to compose the largest adventure in few words, began succinctly to relate the whole business of Thrasimedes and Menecrates, which he received either from Andramites, or Doralisa, or Philistion, bringing the story unto the very day when Thrasimedes would have got into Sardis, which was besieged, because he thought his Mistress to be there, and when Menecrates would have come out, because he thought she was not there; adding also, that the Sister of Philistion was in Sardis: You remember Madam, (said he, and addressed his discourse unto the Princess) That Menecrates and Arpalice were designed by their Parents to marry: That Arpalice cannot confirm her mind unto the will of her parents without extreme violence upon herself: That Menecrates hath a long time slighted her, and also played away her picture unto Thrasimedes: Moreover, he seems to have renounced all right unto that fair Lady, in promising the Sister of Philistion to do all he could to break off with her: That Thrasimedes hath ever loved Arpalice since first he knew her, and that Menecrates never began to love her, until he began to fear lest Arpalice should love Thrasimedes. Then after Cyrus had set forth the interest of both these persons unto those who knew it not, and had revived it in the memory of those who did know it, he thought it requisite to see the Sister of Philistian, and therefore he sent immediately for her: Though Androclea had no mind to appear amongst so great a company, yet the affection of her soul unto Menecrates, and her desire to break off this marriage with Arpalice, prompted her to appear; and the sooner, because her Brother, in point of honour, and for her interest, and that of Thrasimedes, did extremely press her unto it; So that after she had employed a quarter of an hour in dressing herself, so that it might appear her beauty deserved not to be slighted, she went unto the Palace of Croessus, being conducted by Philistion; But she entered with so good a grace unto the Chamber of the Princess Palmis, where all the illustrious company was assembled, that she did attract the eyes of all those who were present: Androclea was handsome, and of a large stature, her aspect was very Majestical with a mixture of sweetness with it; and though every particular feature was alike beautiful, yet she had the air of so high a beauty. After she was come into the Chamber of the Lydian Princess, and that Cyrus had very civilly received her, he presented her unto Timaretta and Palmis. As soon as she entered, she looked about her, to see if she could know Arpalice, by the description of Philistion. Arpalice for her part, having a great desire to see Androclea, who had the advantage to move the heart of Menecrates before her, she did most attentively look upon her; so that looking accidentally upon each other at once, and Androclea believing her she looked upon to be Arpalice, so it chanced that they both blushed, and Cyrus perceived it: I ●ee very well (said he unto them) That there is no need you should be named unto each other, and that you know one another before you be acquainted: Since I would excuse Menecrates, replied Androclea, I shall be very glad that so perfect a beauty as this Lady I look upon hath caused his inconstancy, upon condition, that this inconstancy do cease: The applauds which you give me, replied Arpalice, may well make me blush for shame; but in lieu of rejecting them, give me leave to tell you, that I am much joyed, to see how according to all likelihood Menecrates will no sooner see you, but he will repent himself of the injustice which he hath done you, and the trouble he hath put me unto. After this Cyrus, who desired to be speedily delivered of all business that might hinder him from the thoughts of Mandana, began to ask Arpalice What were her interests in this business? But this discreet Lady answered him, That she had only two: The first, To be dispensed from that engagement wherein the testament of Menecrates, his Parents and hers, had brought her with him: The other, That by his wisdom and prudence, he would prevent Thrasimedes and Menecrates from fight. After this, Arpalice was silent; though if she had humoured the secret motions of her heart, she would have urged the matter more pressingly in advantage of Thrasimedes, but her modesty did check her. After this, Cyrus asked Androclea, What she pretended unto? I pretend, said she, unto nothing, but to punish Menecrates, for not beginning to love the fair Arpalice as soon as he began to know her: That you will oblige him to keep his word with one, whose merit and beauty is much inferior unto hers whom he hath preferred before her; but I think him obliged to love her only, because he hath promised: After this, Cyrus willed Philistion to give his opinion, who being no less bold than generous, told him freely, That since he was the friend of Thrasimedes, he would to his utmost oppose the Marriage of Menecrates with Arpalice: And moreover, he being the Brother of Androclea, he could not endure it; and therefore Menecrates must of necessity prepare himself to fight, both against Thrasimedes and himself, if he thought of marrying Arpalice.  
Cyrus' hearing what Arpalice, Androclea, and Philistion pretended, desired them to withdraw into another Chamber; after which he sent for Menecrates, Parmenides, and Thrasimedes, one after another: But before he asked the first of these, what were his pretensions? He hinted unto him, That now Philistion and Androclea were at Sardis, with intentions to hold him to his word. But Sir (said he and cried out) If the heart which I had then, when I promised Androclea to love her, be changed, what can I do to satisfy her? Moreover, I did make no further promise unto her, but to do what I could to break off with Arpalice, and I wish unto the Gods that it were in my power to do it; for considering the scorn of that cruel Lady, and the goodness of Androclea not yet to hate me, I should be most glad to be revenged of her; but since I am not able Sir, I conjure you to remember, that the wills of the dead aught to be inviolable: However (said Cyrus unto Menecrates) It is just you harken to the complaints of Androclea: Menecrates would have refused it, but the Princess Timaretta, and the Princess Palmis commanded him to go into the room where she was with Arpalice and Philistion, upon condition, that C 〈…〉 nice and Doralisa would conduct him thither, unto which he was obedient. Then Parmenides appeared, who having quite forgot Cleoxene for Cydipe, declared, that he had no other interest in the business between Menecrates and Thrasimedes, but only his promise to the first of them to do him all the good offices he could unto his Sister, from which he would not alter, though he did not marry Cleoxene. Parmenides having said all he could, he retired, and Thrasimedes was brought in, though it was not necessary to ask him what he pretended unto, it being easy to comprehend, that so they would give Arpalice unto him, he would be no longer an enemy unto Menecrates: Yet for order's sake, Cyrus would have him speak, which he did with so much Spirit, and expressed such sensible symptoms of Love unto Arpalice, that all those who heard him, were absolutely on his side; so that retiring, as the other did, he left the illustrious Cyrus at liberty to take the advice of the Princess Timaretta, of the Princess Palmis, of the Prince Sesostris, of the Prince Myrsiles, and all the company. But though it was not usual to see so many persons together without difference in opinion, yet at this time they all concurred. At the first, there were some, who though they were persuaded that Thrasimedes did better deserve Arpalice then Menecrates, yet they had much ado to dispense with the last will of a Father which he makes when he is dying: But after they heard Cyrus speak, they altered their opinion, and conceived that Marriages ought to be so free as Parents, if they be wise, will never constrain their children to marry against their inclination: Judge than I beseech you said this great Prince, Whether it be not unblamable in a Father to marry his child against her inclination; and whether it be not permittable for Arpalice to follow her own will, not her Fathers: since he could not foresee when he appointed her to marry Menecrates, that Menecrates would slight her a long time, that Menecrates would promise Androclea to break off with Arpalice; that Menecrates would love his Daughter only out of a cupritious humour, and to hinder his Rival from being happy: For my part, said the Princess Palmis, I cannot think a Father ought by will to dispose of the affection of his children; Who would undertake, said the Princess Timaretta, that the young child which the Father would have to be the Husband of his Daughter hereafter, will be virtuous? I am persuaded, replied Sefostris, That Fathers who make such Testaments, do intent they should be obeyed only in case the match prove fit and reasonable: Since so, said the Prince Myrsiles, A sentence must be pronounced in favour of Thrasimedes: My opinion is, said Cyrus, to endeavour the making of as few unhappy in this business as we can, and to prevent the fight of such brave men, as which side soever the Victory falls, the Conqueror will have cause to regret it: For though Menecrates be inconstant, and a little capricious, yet he is a man of Soul and Spirit: I beseech you consider (said Cyrus, and turned to both the Princesses) that if Arpalice be enjoined to accomplish the Testament of her Father by marrying Menecrates, they will all be unhappy: Menecrates will be engaged to fight both against Thrasimedes and Philistion; against the first upon the score of his Mistress, against the second upon the score of his Sister: Doubtless there would be many unfortunate, replied Lycaste, but not all, for Menecrates would enjoy his Mistress: 'Tis true, replied Cyrus, He would enjoy the beauty of Arpalice, but I am fully persuaded, that since he would not enjoy her heart, he would never enjoy contentment; and the greatest good that Menecrates would have in the business, would be the hindrance of his Rival from being happy; for as soon as the first days of marriage are over, he will turn even desperate for marrying one who hates him, and who perhaps he will hate also, for considering the temper of Menecrates, I am the most deceived of all men living, if the enjoyment of that which he loves, be not an infallible means to quench the flames of Love in his heart: As for Arpalice, it must needs be concluded, that since she Marries Menecrates whom she loves not, and does not marry Thrasimedes whom she loves, she would be most miserable. Androclea for her part, she would not be satisfied, to see a man whom she loved become the Husband of another; nor would Philistion be at all contented to see Menecrates, after a promise to marry his Sister married unto another; and as for Thrasimedes, it must be concluded, that he being in love with Arpalice, and knowing himself to be loved, he would be one of the most miserable Lovers in the World, if his Rival should enjoy his Mistress: So that it is apparent, by giving Arpalice unto Menecrates, all those who are interested in this business, are made unhappy; for Parmenides himself, though he make a show of being engaged in the interest of Menecrates, yet if I be not deceived, he will be glad that his Sister would not marry the Brother of one whom he will see no more, and one who hath treated him ill. On the contrary, if Arpalice be given unto Thrasimedes, both they will be happy: Philistion will be satisfied: Justice will be done unto Androclea; Parmonides will not be disobliged, and Menecrates will be forced to be happy whether he will or no, since he may have a Wife who loves him, and is delivered from one who hates him. Moreover, though he will not submit his mind unto reason, yet he will have no ground of any quarrel but with Thrasimedes, and hath nothing to say with lie unto Cyrus, I wish you had only let me seen that fatal Scarf, without a sight of that Divine Picture; for by the vision of that mark of my crime, with the apparition of that Beauty which caused me to commit it, I should have been only exposed to a renovation of my sorrows and repentance, and had been out of danger to revive my Love: I ask you pardon (replied Cyrus, and would have shut the Case in which the Picture was) for exposing you unto so great a danger: Alas Sir (replied Mazares sighing, and holding Cyrus by the arm) I know not why I should fear it, or complain; but I am most certain, that though my Love were more violent, if it were possible, than it is, yet I would not attempt any thing which would offend you, as long as our Princess loves you, and not me: Therefore since you may be confident that she will for ever love you, and never me, do not envy me the happiness of one minutes seeing the Picture of Divine Mandana, to the end, that the sight of the adored Princess whom I have so much offended, and caused all her misfortunes, might augment my repentance: So that Sir, in lieu of reviving my affection, you will add unto my remorse that ever I carried her away: Look then upon the picture of our Princess, most generous Rival, replied Cyrus, but look upon it with such thoughts as will keep me your friend, and not frustrate that Heroic resolution which you have taken, of contenting yourself with the esteem and friendship of Mandana, and endeavouring her release: I do promise it Sir, said this perplexed Lover; after which he looked upon the picture, and he had no sooner cast his eyes upon it, and a little contemplated upon it, but blushing, he found such a violent agitation of heart, that doubting the constancy of his resolution, he hastily shut the Case, and restoring it to Cyrus: Here Sir, said he unto him, take this most angelique picture, I am of a weaker temper than I thought myself, and dare not so confidently answer for my thoughts, but to testify the desires I have to overcome them, give me leave only to look upon this Scarf, which revives in my memory Mandana floating upon the Waves, and ready to perish through my default: Methinks I see her yet (said this amorous Prince) when having no other help but mine, in spite of the impetuous Waves, she endeavoured to be loose from me, choosing rather to die, then receive life from the hand of her Ravisher: But alas, divine Princess, said he, you were ignorant of that reformation which was in my soul: I wish, most generous Rival (said he, and looked upon Cyrus) that I were assured to have all my life the same thoughts which then I had, when a mountain of horrid Waves overwhelmed us, which loosed this Scarf, and separated me from our Princess, whom then I saw swallowed up by that terrible Element, and thought to be ever lost: I wish Sir once more, that this horrid Idea might be for ever imprinted in my mind: But alas Sir, Many times against my will I see such things as are fuel to the fire of my passion.  
Mazares spoke all this in such sadness and sincerity, that the heart of Cyrus, though a Rival, melted; and he was so sweet in his expressions, that Mazares had no cause of complaint: and after this miserable Prince had condoled his Fate, and Cyrus lamented his bad fortune, and both of them pitied and cheered up each other, they asked one another whether they heard any thing concerning the Princess, since they saw each other, and did mutually displease by answering, they heard nothing. In the mean time, since their discourse had continued long, Cyrus was told, that many waited in his Chamber, so that he went out of his Closet to dispatch them who had any business with him. Afterwards, he went to visit Arianita, purposely to talk with her concerning his dear Princess. He had often a mind to do as the King of Assiria had done, but upon better thoughts, he conceived it better service to Mandana for him to stay in such a place where he might receive the intelligence of all who went to inquire of her: So that contenting himself with preparation of all things in readiness to march, as soon as he should receive intelligence where she was, he omitted nothing which did become his generosity, either for the Princes whom he had vanquished, or for those whom he protected, or for his friends, or his Domestiques, or his Soldiers: So that the third day which Menecrates had taken, being come, he omitted nothing which concerned his business; but he understood, that he was the last night fallen sick, and so violently, as it was not fit to ask him his resolution. Cyrus no sooner heard of this, but he appointed Physicians to take care of Menecrates: When they did visit him, they found him in such a desperate condition, as that they durst not answer for his life. This news being told unto Androcl●a, she was so perplexed at it, that her affection would not permit her to follow the exact rules of handsomeness, considering the infidelity of Menecrates, but she did every day visit him with Lycaste: Also Arpalice, hoping that the sight of Doralisa would work upon the heart of Menecrates. she desired Lycaste to carry her unto him: At the first Menecrates seemed angry; afterwards, as his disease increased, he seemed to take no notice; but when it began to diminish, and when he considered that he did not so much as think upon him all the while he was sick, and that he had seen the fair eyes of Androclea swim a thousand times in tears for him, he permitted the sight of her with less trouble, and a while after, he looked upon her with delight: It might very well be said, that as his Fever vanished, so did his infidelity, and that he recovered the health of his body and mind both together, and that he was able to follow the Dictates of reason, and the counsels of Cyrus. In the mean time, such magnificent equipage was in preparation, for sending Timaretta unto the King her Father, as it was evident Cyrus would do her all the honours he could. Also he ordered that Ships should be ready at the same Port where Sesostris embarked at his coming unto Asia. But whilst all this equigage was making ready, Sosostris without any impatience at all expected the day of his departure, for he found so many sweets in Timaretta, and so much satisfaction with Cyrus, that he did not regret this little prolixity which kept him from his complete felicity. The Prince Artamas for his part, did every day find so many occasions of doing service unto his Princess, either in behalf of Croessus, or of Myrsiles, that he would not change his happinesses with any; and when Cyrus compared the state wherein he was with his own, he thought himself much more miserable; but also when he remembered the condition wherein he had seen the Prince Artamas, and considered the alteration of his fortune, he did not despair of his own; but e'er long after he was most sensibly perplexed, for after many days tedious expectation, those whom he sent unto Milete returned, who told him, that certainly the King of Pontus passed not by that Coast. Those also whom he sent unto Guides, returned as ignorant as the first, who could learn no more than those who had been at Ephesus, and many other Maritine Towns, all who reported for certain, that the King of Pontus touched not in those places; so that Cyrus and Mazares were in a most inconceiveable perplexity, when one morning he who had orders to go into Cames returned, and so opportunely, that he spoke unto Cyrus and Mazares, before he had spoken unto any of his acquaintance; for having a great desire to tell that Prince what he knew, and knowing he should be highly rewarded for the pains he had taken, he went straight unto the Citadel, where he found Cyrus talking with Mazares in his Closet, consulting what was the most expedient resolutions for them to take. As soon as he appeared, Cyrus knew him to be the same who had orders for Cumes, he went towards him, and asked hastily whether he had learned any intelligence: Sir, said he, thanks be to the Gods, I have been more happy than the rest of my companions, and am able to inform you where the Princess Mandana is. At these words, Cyrus and Mazares did both of them at once embrace him, and bade him tell them what he knew. Sirs, said he unto them, I know of certainty, that the King of Pontus and the Princess Mandana are at Cumes, but they are known by very few: I know that the King of Pontus at his landing, did set up the colours of Milete in his Ship, as if it had been a Merchant's Vessel: I know also, that he came thither in the night; that before he landed, he sent a servant in a little Boat unto the Prince of Cumes, who as you know is very young, though he be most absolute in his Dominions. In the mean time, though I know not the reason of his transaction, yet he doth not discover unto the Inhabitants of Cumes, that he would give any retreat unto the King of Pontus; but on the contrary, to carry it more closely, he does not lodge him in his Palace, and the Princess Mandana is lodged in a private house, though strictly guarded. Moreover, under the pretence of your great Victories; and that all Asia is in Arms, the Prince of Cumes begins to tackle up his Ships, and to make Levies of armed men in the Country: The reason, said ●yrus, Why this Prince will not have it known that he gives us retreat unto the King of Pontus, certainly is, because he is not in a condition to defend them: It is not to be doubted, answered Mazares: But yet said Cyrus unto him who brought the news, How came you to know all this? And how can we give credit unto your words? Sir, replied he, I have traveled much in my life, and was a Soldier very young, and so it falls out, that a servant unto him at whose house Mandana is lodged, was my Comrade in the Milesian Wars against Polycrates, so that meeting this man upon the Port of Cumes, and there renewing our acquaintance, I resolved to make use of him for the discovery of what I desired to know; but I was not put unto the necessity of his discretion, for insensibly passing from one discourse unto another, as I was telling him, that he was a very happy man in dwelling within a peaceable Town, whilst all Asia was in Arms, he began to tell me, that Cumes ere long would have its turn, and afterwards told me all that I tell you: And he told me, that his Master with whom Mandana lodged was extremely troubled, that the Prince of Cumes had given a retreat unto the King of Pontus, because he feared that it would be the ruin of his Country, telling me, that he heard his Master express as much unto his Wife, not thinking that he did hear him: But, said Cyrus unto him, Know you nothing but what this man told you? Yes Sir, replied he, But I beseech you lend me a little patience, and then I shall tell you, that after this which I have already told you, this man told me, that there was a Woman with that Princess, whom he pitied the most in the world; that she sometimes spoke unto him out of grated Windows which opened into a back Court, and endeavoured to suborn him to carry a Letter for her unto one whom she would direct him unto, after he had promised fidelity, offering Jewels which she showed unto him, which seemed to be of a great value: But said he unto me, I was put to a great nonplus, for I would not betray my Master, nor would I discover what this Woman said unto me, lest they should lock her up and treat her ill: Oh my dear friend (said I unto him, the better to persuade him unto my desires) your virtue is too too scrupulous: Let us divide the Jewels, and give me the Letter to carry, so may you be a gainer without danger: At the first, he could hardly resolve upon it; but after, seeing me so forward to be a complice of his crime, I brought him to consent unto the Commission of it; so that without more ado he took my counsel, he spoke that night unto Martesia, he seemed to be persuaded by her, he took the Jewels and the Letter which was directed unto you, and brought both Letter and Jewels unto me: Oh most cruel man, said Cyrus, Why did you not give me this Letter at the first? Because, said he, I would first make an orderly relation, but to repair that fault, I will give it unto you, and so he did, which Cyrus opening, found these words.  
MARTESIA unto the illustrious CYRUS.  
THough the Princess continually complains of you, since I am confident it is without cause, I thought it fit to acquaint you, that we are at Cumes, where in all likelihood we shall for some time remain: If you will justify yourself unto her who accuseth you, you must quit the Princess Araminta to come and release her; but to comfort you, know that your Rival is no gainer by your disgrace; but the Princess not being able, as the state stands with her, to revenge herself upon you, doth revenge upon him that infidelity whereof she suspects, I will not say, accuseth you. In the mean time, be confident, that as soon as I see your Forces appear, I will speak in your behalf, and plead hard in your justification. After this, I must further tell you, that I understand both by good fortune and craft, the King of Pontus fears to be besieged, both by Sea and I and, and fears that if he see a Naval Army, he shall not be able to carry us away. This Sir is the advice of one, whose hopes are, that he who hath taken Artaxates, Babylon, and Sardis, will ere long put an end to all our misfortunes, and take Cumes.  
MARTESIA.  
After that Cyrus had read this Letter, he showed it unto Mazares, who read it with some slight resentments of joy; for though he hoped for nothing, yet it was some consolation to know by this Letter, that Mandana complained against Cyrus; and though he well conceived that time would justify this Prince, yet he could not choose but find some sweetness, in thinking that at that time she loved him less than she had done: As for Cyrus, doubtless he was grieved to know that the injustice of Mandana continued; but also he was much joyed to know that Martesia was his Advocate, and to know where Mandana was. But before he resolved upon any course, he asked him who gave him this Letter, if he known any more? and why he did not endeavour to see Martesia himself, to tell her how he was sent purposely unto Cumes, to inquire news of the Princess? Sir, replied he, it was my design; for after I had taken the Letter, I told my friend, that I would leave all my share of Jewels with him, upon condition he would bring me to the speech of Martesia, which he promised me: But as ill luck was, this man speaking unto her was seen by his Master, who observing him earnest with her, turned him away immediately, so that he returned unto me, and told me, that now he was not in a condition to do as I desired; and so I seeing that I was not able to do you any further service in that place, I returned hither with all the hast I could make. Cyrus' seeing that the man had no more to say, caused him to be so magnificently rewarded, as it was apparent that a Prince so liberal was deeply amorous: But as he dismissed him, he charged him to be very silent, and speak not a word of any thing he knew concerning Mandana: After this, Mazares and he consulted upon the best expedient in the business. And after they had seriously considered upon all the circumstances, they concluded it the best course to seem being ignorant of where the Princess Mandana was, until they were in a readiness of besieging Cumes, especially until they had a Navy ready to block up the Port of Cumes, if it were possible; and the better to conceal it, Cyrus gave it out unto all the World, that he could not discover where she was, and so more subtly deludes the Spies of the King of Pontus which he had in Sardis; yet Mazares advised him to send unto divers places, as if he endeavoured to inquire, which Cyrus observed, and in public dispatched many Officers to that purpose: But to lose no time, and the better to palliate his design, he sent Leontidas to Thrasibulas, with ample instructions of what he desired him to do, conjuring him to set out as many Ships as he could, and arm them as well and speedily as possible, desiring him to colour his preparations so, as none should suspect they were for him, conjuring him also to engage the Prince of Mytilene. Also he sent Megasides unto the Prince Philoxipeses, to whom he writ a Letter of thanks for the good hopes which he gave him, by letting him know the Oracle which the Princess of Salamis had received, and which had been so happily accomplished; but he conjured him also to procure some Ships for the King his Master: He sent also unto the Prince of Sicily upon the same business, and to have an eye always whether the King of Pontus remained still at Cumes: He sent thither the same man, who brought him the intelligence, that he did not give it out he sent him thither: He gave him a Letter to Martesia, and Jewels wherewith to suborn those who guarded the Princess, and so by that means he might get admittance to deliver Martesia's Letter: He gave him also two trusty and faithful Slaves, that he might send them any whether if occasion were, when he came to Cumes. Also he resolved with Mazares, that their Land Army should not move until the Navy were out at Sea, lest it should too soon alarm the Prince of Cumes and the King of Pontus, and so ruin their design of releasing Mandana in lieu of advancing it. In the mean time, they seemed to the World as if they grieved extreme, that they could not hear any intelligence where the Princess was; but their real sorrow was, to know that she was in so strong a Town as Cumes, which at that time was a terror to all her Neighbours; yet notwithstanding, since Cyrus never assaulted any which he did not take, and since his Valour never met with any obstacles which he did not surmount, the hopes of vanquishing once more caused some tranquillity in his soul. Things standing upon these terms, Cyrus received Letters from Ciaxares, by Posts which he had set up, which Letters intimated unto him, that his power was not at all limited, but that he might dispose absolutely of all things, that he might give and take away Crowns as he pleased, and do with all his Conquests what he thought most fit; that he thought it convenient as well as he did, it would be more easy to keep Lydia, by restoring it unto Croessus upon the conditions which he proposed, then by guarding it, and making him a Slave: Also that by making him a Tributary King, he did himself much honour, since he made him a most illustrious Subject; adding notwithstanding, that to keep him within the compass of his duty, and prevent revolts, he would not have him restore his Treasures unto him, but desired him to take them unto himself. After this, Ciaxares lamented the misfortune of Mandana, and encouraged him to pursue his Victories until he had released her. Cyrus then having absolute Authority to treat Croessus as he pleased, took up a resolution worthy of his great soul; for as the King of Phrigia, and Artamas were talking in his Chamber, he told the first of them, that since he could not find to break off the Marriage of the Prince Artamas with the Princess Palmis, and having no mind he should marry the Daughter of a King without a Kingdom, he was resolved to restore that Crown unto Croessus which he had lost. Oh Sir, said the Prince Artamas, I pray heaven I have rightly understood you: Yes, replied Cyrus, and to testify that I would have a perfect reconciliation between Croessus and you, I would have you go and tell him from me, that the King of Medes having left the disposition of his Crown entirely unto me, I do restore it unto him, upon condition he will become the Vassal of Ciaxares, as the King of Armenia is; that he shall pay a small Tribute as a mark of his dependency; that he shall follow me to the Wars with the Prince his Son, until I have released the Princess Mandana, and that until I shall depart unto the place where I shall hear she is, they shall have Guards upon them; and this, not that I shall make any question of their words which they shall pass, but because the people shall not make any new Insurrection which may force me to ruin him. After this, the King of Phrigia returned a million of thanks and applauds unto Cyrus: But Cyrus knowing that it would be the height of joy unto the Prince Artames, that he could tell the Princess Palm 〈…〉 she should see the King her Father upon his Throne again, imposed silence upon him, conjuring him to it in all haste, and perform his Commission: But since I know you desire to go unto the Chamber of the Princess Palmis, before you go unto the Chamber of Croessus her Father, I conjure you to do so, and tell her, that I am extremely glad I am able to do any thing which shall be pleasing unto her. Artamas answered the civilities of Cyrus with a profound reverence; after which, he went in all haste unto his dear Princess to acquaint her with the happy change in her Father's fortune.  
This news did so surprise her, that she could hardly believe it; but since she could not choose but give credit unto the words of Artamas, her joys were above her expressions, yet she would not permit any long repetitions of his testimony, for she was so impatient, that Croessus should know his good fortune, as she pressed Artamas above twenty times to go and tell him, which accordingly he did, after he had presented the compliment of Cyrus unto her: Then he went unto the King of Lydia, whom he found sitting in a profound melancholy: As soon as Artamas entered into the Chamber, Croessus did rise up to receive him; but Artamas, as soon as ever he had leisure told him, that Cyrus had restored the Crown of Lydia unto him: Oh, I beseech you, said Croessus, and interrupted him, Do not add weight unto my Chains, by puffing me up into any false hopes of ascending the Throne: No Sir, replied Artamas, The happiness which I tell you of, is none of those which are to be hoped long for before enjoyment; you are already King of Lydia, if you please. And then Artamas began to tell him the conditions which Cyrus required upon his reestablishment, which Croessus did apprehend to be so sweet and easy, considering the unfortunate condition which he expected all his life, as they did not diminish his joys of ascending the Throne. As they were thus in discourse, Chrisantes entered, who came to tell Croessus, that Cyrus entreated him he would not take it ill, if he added one condition more unto those, which Artamas was to tell him, before he made a public Declaration of his reestablishment. The words of Chrisantes did exceedingly perplex both those Princes: Croessus began to doubt of his good fortune, and Artamas apprehended no less, at least that the condition which Cyrus would add, was of some hard and shameful nature for the King of Lydia; since he had not charged him with it. But in conclusion, Chrisantes addressing his speech unto Croessus, Sir, said he unto him, The orders which I have to present unto you from the Prince my Master is, that the same day which he shall make choice of to restore your Crown unto you, in one of your most famous Temples, and in the sight of all your Subjects, you will be pleased in the same Temple to give the Princess your Daughter unto the Prince Artamas, who by many services hath deserved her.  
The discourse of Chrisantes, did so pleasingly surprise both those two Princes, that they were a long time before they could speak: But at the last, Croessus reviving out of his ecstasy of admiration at the virtue of Cyrus, desired Chrisantes to tell his Master, that as precious as his Crown was, which he restored him, he thought himself more obliged unto him, for giving such a Husband unto his Daughter, then for giving him his Crown and Kingdom: And he might assure him, that this last thing which he desired, should be no impediment unto his ascending the Throne, since he did not think him unworthy of it, and since his great soul consented unto it. Artamas hearing Croessus speak so, made a thousand protestations of real service, and afterwards applauded Cyrus to the Heavens: And the Prince Myrsiles coming then into the Chamber, and knowing the passages, he did participate in the joys of the King his Father, and added his Tribute of thanks and commendations unto his. After they had sufficiently expressed their acknowledgements, the Prince Artamas and Chrisantes returned to Cyrus, to acquaint him with what joy and resentments of gratitude Croessus, Myrsiles, and Palmis, received and admired the altitude of his generosity to them; it was not only by their reports that Cyrus understood it, for Croessus not daring to ask the liberty of coming in person to express his resentments, did send unto him, as well as the Prince Myrsiles, and the Princess Palmis; But Cyrus knowing, that whosoever obligeth soon, doth double the price of the obligation, he told the King of Phrigia, he would give orders, that things requisite for this double ceremony should be presently made ready, to the end that the solemnity might be before the departure of Timaretta, and that the Marriage of the Prince Artamas might be honoured with the presence of the Prince Sesostris, and the Princess of Egypt: In order unto which, Commission is given unto Chrisantes, and they begin all preparations for this great Feast. In the mean time, Artamas as soon as ever he went from Cyrus, acquainted Palmis with his fresh and high obligation, aggravating his joys with so many raptures of Love, that this Princess never knew the greatness of it until now: For her part, she being extremely modest, she expressed much less joy at the assurance of her marriage, then at her understanding that her Father was to be restored unto the Crown, though the succession of it did not directly fall upon her; yet Artamas did not murmur, for knowing this Princess so well as he did, he ever thought that if ever he chanced to be happy, she would hide some part of her satisfaction from him. In the mean time, though Cyrus did not intend that the business should be blazed until the day of ceremony, yet it was not possible to be hid, especially since there was an interview between the King of Phrigia and Croessus; so that some noise of it being voged abroad, it was presently divulged over all the world. Now was the name of Cyrus highly celebrated amongst the Inhabitants of Sardis; but the admiration was, that the principal joy was to understand, that though their King was restored unto them, yet they were in a sort under the power of Cyrus still, since Croessus was the Vassal of Ciaxares. One thing also was very extraordinary in this encounter; for though it be the custom of that place, that when any one receives a benefit, to go and visit those who receive it, and rejoice with them, without any visits unto him who conferred; yet upon this occasion it was not so; for all those of any Quality in Sardis, went to thank Cyrus, before they went to rejoice with the King of Lydia, insomuch as there was nothing to be seen but compliments, both in the Palace and Citadel. All the Ladies went also unto the Princess of Palm 〈…〉, as well those in the Palace as those in the Town, who could not choose but extol Cyrus, who in sweetening the bitter misfortunes of those he had vanquished, did sharpen his own: For when he considered Artamas was shortly to enjoy her he loved, and considered that Mandana was yet in Cumes, and in the hands of his Rival, that he must tediously tarry in expectation of a Naval Army to assault, and that the success of the Siege was dubious, his sufferings were incredible: The King of Assiria's absence also did somewhat acquaint his perplexities, though his presence was almost unsufferable. However, not to lessen the joys of the Prince Artamas, whom he so highly esteemed, he confined some part of his sorrows unto the Closet of his heart, lest they should dull the joys of this glorious Feast, and lest he should fail in any circumstance, he went to visit Croessus and the Prince Myrsiles, but it was more as their friend then Conqueror: He went also to visit the Princess Palmis, and the Princess Timaretta; but in his return unto his own lodging, he was much surprised to see Menecrates, who beginning to quit his Chamber that day, came to render thanks for the care which Cyrus had of him, and to acquaint him, that the malady of his body had cured the malady of his mind, and had so perfectly let him know, that Androclea did merit his affection, as he came to tell him, that he was ready to obey his commands, and not to look upon Thrasimedes as his Rival. Cyrus' being even ravished at the conversion of Menecrates, did send immediately for Thrasimedes, Philistion and Parmenides, to whom having told the happy change which was in the heart of Menecrates, he found the two first of them very ready to embrace him; and as for Parmenides, since he had no other concernment in the business, but that of Menecrates, since he was satisfied, he was so also, so that there remained nothing to do but advertise Licaste, but Cyrus needed not to trouble himself for that, for her Husband being come to Sard 〈…〉 with Lisia's Brother of Candiope, she came to present them unto Cyrus, accompanied with Cydipe, Arpalice, Candiope and Androclea; so that by this means there was a perfect reconciliation made amongst all those persons, whose interests were so confusedly mingled: But to make it more solid, Cyrus conjured Licasta's Husband, would permit the marriage of Arpalice and Thrasimedes to be solemnised the next morning, which was the same day of Prince Artamas: He made the same request also unto Philistion in behalf of Androclea and Menecrates; and since he known the thoughts of Parmenides towards Cydipe, and of Philistion towards Candiope, he spoke unto Menophiles and Lycaste in behalf of the first, and to Lisia's and Candiope in behalf of the other, and he spoke with such persuasive Rhetoric, and found so few obstacles in the minds of those persons whom he endeavoured to persuade, that they all consented unto his desires.  
Thus these four marriages were made up in an instant, and three differences, whose consequences might have proved fatal, were happily reconciled: The business being known, Lycaste and her fair company were no sooner returned unto the Palace, but the Princesses came to visit her, Doralisa and Pherenice were with them, and Cleonice came in the last, because she had been busied in receiving her mother, who knowing that her Daughter was at Sardis, was come from Ephesus to see her, with intentions to carry her thither: So that Cleonice having advertised Stenobea who the Ladies were, and her obligements to them, she came also to visit them, and was conducted thither by Ligdamis, who taking hold of this fit opportunity, did earnest beseech Ismenia, who had ever been the confident of his dear Cleonice, that she would speak unto Stenobea concerning his marriage. The business might the more easily be brought to pass, because her Father, who was Governor of the Castle of Hermes was come to Sardis; and Cyrus having made his peace with Croessus, he might the more easily assent unto it: Ismenia accordingly made the Proposition, but her power alone was not prevalent enough; but Cyrus must intercede who did it so effectually, that Ligdamis could not wish it better; yet he was a little sad to see Cleonice become a little more reserved, as soon as she saw that she was infallibly to marry Ligdamis: And after he had pressed her himself in vain, to tell what it was which interrupted her joys, he set Ismenia upon her, who answered, That it was because she feared, that as heretofore she was grieved, because the friendship of Ligdamis was become Love, and since that, grieved because his love did not return unto friendship; so it was happen, that when she had married Ligdamis, perhaps it would become neither love nor friendship to her, she conceiving that marriage would rather procure indifferency, jealousy, and scorn, than any esteem, love, and friendship. As soon as she had expressed herself unto Ismenia, she told it unto Ligdamis, who expressed so many testimonies of love unto Cleonice by his sorrows that she should suspect him, that in the conclusion this melancholy cloud did vanish out of her mind, and he did perfectly persuade her, that she might expect from him, both a violent and an everlasting passion; so that after this, joy began to sparkle in her eyes. Then she returned and received all civilities unto Cydipe, Arpalice, Candiope and Androclea: But amidst so many happy Lovers, Andramites was an infinite sufferer, since he found Doralisa more cruel; the joys of others were his griefs, and the preparatives of these marriages tormented him, for she was so full of her witty rallary, as made it apparent to him, that she was not in any humour to augment the number of married people. Seeing then that all his services and Courtships would not prevail with her, he resolved to apply himself unto the Prince Myrsiles; for observing that she much esteemed him, and that he was reinvested into his power and authority, he thought that if he would undertake to speak for him unto Doralisa, perhaps she would then marry him by reason of his intercession, though not out of affection. But before he tried this way, he advised with Pherenice, with whom he had an intimacy, and she telling him, that this course could not prejudice him, he went unto the Prince, to desire his protection, but he was much surprised, when after he had opened his design, the Prince told him, that he desired a business in which he wished with all his heart he were able to serve him; but for divers reasons which prevented him, he would seek out some other way whereby he might testify how much he esteemed him. In the mean time, he advised him as a friend, not to persist in his Love to Doralisa: After which, much company entering, Andramites went out, as ill satisfied with the Prince Myrsiles, as with his Mistress. As soon as he was gone, this Prince, who had not seen Doralisa since he was in hopes of succeeding to the Crown of Lydia, went unto her Chamber upon a visit, for he had the free liberty of all the Palace before the ceremony of restallation was solemnised. In the mean time, Pherenice after she had advised Andramites to employ the credit of the Prince Myrsiles, spoke unto Doralisa in his behalf, the better to prepare her for the Prince's mediation, but she so fully expressed her resolution of never marrying Andramites, that she was out of all hopes; so that he thought it expedient to advertise her friend of what the Prince Myrsiles would say unto her, to the and she might deny him more civilly; but she wondered to see Doralisa extremely angry at Andramites, for having recourse unto the Prince Myrsiles: 'Tis true, she had not time to say much against him, for the Prince entered presently, and made her change her discourse. As soon as he entered into Doralisa's Chamber, Pherenice went out upon some business which called her away, and by that means Myrsiles had opportunity of discourse with Doralisa: But he was no sooner set down, than this incensed Lady, thinking he would speak for Andramites prevented him. I perceive Sir (said she unto him sharply, not giving him leisure to bethink himself) that you are preparing to speak unto concerning the follies of Andramites: But I beseech you Sir, tell me nothing which may molest those joys I ought to have at the generosity of Cyrus towards the King your Father, and yourself: Never fear, dear Doralisa, said he unto her, that I will ever speak concerning the passion of Andramites, not but that he hath much solicited me unto it, but I have so strong a reason to the contrary, that you need not fear I shall solicit you in his behalf: Since it is so, replied Doralisa, I must needs express my satisfaction to see you so reasonable as you ought to be: If I were so reasonable as I ought to be, replied he, doubtless I should wish that thing now, which I have wished a long time, and which you do not desire I should: Why Sir, replied Doralisa, cannot I desire you were King of Lydia? That is not it which I mean, replied he, Nor do my desires most carry me to a Throne; for I most desire that now, which I desired when the Prince Atis lived, and which then I ought not to pretend unto: For my part, replied Doralisa, I do believe that at the time you speak of, you wished most that you could speak: 'Tis most true, answered he, but the chief reason of my wish was, that I might be able to tell you I do love you: Oh Sir (said Doralisa, and laughed, not believing that the Prince Myrsiles spoke seriously) If you had then any such desire, you were able enough to make me understand it, you I say, who could so well interpret unto Pherenice the Fable of Aesop, which concerned the Princess Palmis and her Lovers: 'Tis true, replied he, I could then have let you know that I loved you, since than I could write a little; also as dumb as I was, I could have told you as much in the language of eyes, but what reason had I then to expose myself unto the rallary of the most witty person in the World, I, I say, who have many times seen some of best language stand mute before you, merely out of the fear of your Wit: But Sir, replied she, am I not as terrible now as I was then? You are, replied he, and much more Madam, for I find you much fairer. But I am grown more bold, and now dare without difficulty acquaint you with that which I have all my life concealed: Know then beloved Doralisa, that I began to love you as soon as I began to see you, from your very infancy I have born you affection, this affection increased with your beauty, and during all the loves of Cleander, Artesilas, Abradates, and Mexaris, I I loved you with more zeal than all those Princes did those Princesses with whom they were in Love: Yes, charming Doralisa, all the time of my sullen silence, I then burned, in the flames of affection to you: Oh Sir, said Doralisa, you can never persuade me of it; for since the tenderness over the King your Father caused you to speak, when you see the Soldier ready to kill him, I am confident that if your passion had been so violent unto me, you would then have spoke and told me of it: But at that time, certainly there was as deep a silence in your heart as in your tongue, and there was as much tranquillity in your soul as in mine: Do you not know Doralisa, replied the Prince Myrsiles, that Love useth to make even those who speak best to become dumb? How then would you have him make an unfortunate Lover speak, who was dumb before? Why then do you speak now, replied she? I speak, replied he, by the same reason that I was silent, for I was silent because I could not speak, and I speak because I cannot be silent. Moreover, since I have ever heard you profess that you would have a heart fresh, which never loved any but yourself, I thought that mine being such a one as you desired, I might without any injury offer it unto you. Moreover, I do not only offer you a new fresh heart, but I do express my passion in such words as never were profaned with the expression of either feigned or real passions: I never pronounced the Word Love but unto you only, I never said I love you, but once, and that was unto you: Be not therefore so unjust, I beseech you, as to reject me with the same rigour, as if I had presented unto you a heart which had received a thousand several impressions, or as if I had told you things which I had spoken a thousand times unto another: I assure you Sir, replied she, That you do so much perplex me, as this little which you have spoken forceth me to regret the time wherein you could not speak unto me: Truly I wish that I could speak, neither too sharp nor too uncivilly; but I fear that if you continue to persuade me unto this belief, it will be hard for me to keep within those just limits, which those respects I owe you requires of me; therefore not to take what you have said seriously, be pleased to know, that when you heard me say I would have a new fresh heart, it was when I spoke of men whom I known verv well had none such: For to speak the very truth, I neither care for a new nor an old heart, I desire only to keep mine own entire, and continue always an absolute Mistress of myself. Moreover Sir, I must advertise you, that for one that is a very stupid Sot in matters of the World, I am one who of all Women upon earth knows least how to speak upon matters of Courtship and gallantry: Sometimes I can chide others for it, but to speak myself is a thing which I cannot do; therefore Sir I beseech you either change your discourse, or else I shall wish you dumb: Most cruel Woman, replied Myrsiles, What pleasure can you take in blasting me with all your fury, me I say, who hath yet expressed but one part of my love to you? Faith Sir, replied she and laughed, I do not believe the half you have said already, nor will I often give you any occasion of discoursing with me, but that you may not have any cause to complain of me, know I beseech you Sir, that I am much fitter to make a friend then a Mistress; for though to my misfortune I should have a tender sensible heart towards you, you would not be a jot the happier, since as soon as ever I did perceive it in myself, I should carry it as if I hated you: Take heed therefore Sir of being in too good terms with me, for fear of being in too bad; and to testify how nice and fantastical I am in such things, I must tell you, that I have often in my life, even almost hated the most complete men, only because through weakness without reason they have put me to the blush in talking with them: Consider therefore what I should do, if you should offer to entangle me in any such kind of gallantry: Consider Sir that I am not fit for it; if you please to esteem me more than another, I shall be glad of it, but let this esteem be without any ingredient of Love or tenderness, if you would oblige me unto you. As Myrsiles was ready to reply, Arpalice and Cydipe came in, who told Doralisa after their first compliments were performed, that within this hour an Ambassador would arrive, which the King of Phenicia sent unto Cyrus, whose Equipage was reported to be more magnificent than ever was seen; and that the Princess Timaretta, whose Chamber opened unto the place where he was to pass, had charged them to tell her she would be very glad of her company with the rest of the Ladies to see these Phoenicians, who were reported to be so magnificent. The Prince Myrsiles hearing what Arpalice and Cydipe said, did withdraw himself, having no disposition to see an Ambassador pass, who came not to the King his Father. Also the passion of his soul did so possess him, and the manner of Doralisa's usage did so trouble him, that he was not in any humour of seeing such diversions: But it was nothing so with Doralisa, for she was so well pleased at her harsh language unto the Prince Myrsiles, that she went with the blithest disposition in the World to quibble at these Ambassadors who were to arrive, but she found not what she sought for, and her blithe and critical humour could not find any cavil in them she went to see: The truth is, the like magnificence was never seen, both for the great abundance of Camels covered with clothes of Tyrian Purple embroidered with gold, and for the rarity of their Horses, also for the richness of their habits. Moreover, this Ambassador (whose stature was as high as his Quality, which was of the best in all Phenicia) had with him above a hundred men of Quality, extraordinary handsome, whose curiosity only to see Cyrus induced them unto this voyage. Amongst this hundred, there was one illustrious person, whose merit was rare and superlative, his name was Aristheus, a name very famous, both through all Greece and all Asia, so that in what humour of rallary soever Doralisa was in that day, she was forced to commend all she see that day. However, this Ambassage was variously talked on, though none known what it was, yet they were not ignorant long, but knew the cause of it. After this Ambassador was lighted from his horse at the Gate of the Citadel, he was conducted by Hidasps unto a great Hall, where Cyrus gave him audience. This Ambassador spoke in his own language, which Cyrus did very well understand, and presented a Letter from the King his Master, which began thus.  
The King of Phenicia unto the greatest Conqueror that ever was.  
AS I make no question, but that since you have besieged Sardis, you will ere long take it; So I have sent this Ambassador to ask that favour from you which Croessus cruelly denied me, but which I hope you will not: He hath Commission to offer you my alliance and friendship with thirty thousand men, if you stand in any need of them: I assure you, that if you accept this offer, and accord unto my demand, you will ever oblige me;  
The King of Phenicia.  
All the while this Letter was reading, Cyrus was thinking what it should be that the King of Phenicia could desire of him, but not being able to imagine it, he told the Ambassador that it was from him he must know how to satisfy the King his Master: Then the Ambassador told him with an excellent grace and much eloquence, that the principal point of his Voyage was to satisfy the desire which the King his Master had of being allied unto so great a Prince, and to the end that this alliance might be more firm, he desired that he might be obliged unto him, by requesting a favour which Croessus denied a little before the War. Then the Ambassador pursuing his discourse, let Cyrus understand, that the young King of Phenicia's desire was, he would be pleased to restore that Statue which Croesus bought of Dipoenus and Scillis, and which the late King his Father caused to be made a little before his death, offering for it above three hundred Talents of Incense, and whatsoever Arabia the happy produced out of her precious and Aromatical store, for Syria joining upon Arabia, and Phenicia making part of Syria, there was constant commerce between those people; therefore the King of Phenicia made choice of that which he thought most worthy for the ransom of the Statue of the fairest person in his Kingdom, and most worthy to be offered unto the greatest Prince upon earth. This Ambassador told Cyrus further, that he came from Tyre, as soon as the King of Phenicia heard that he had won the Battle against Croessus, and as soon as he heard that his design was to besiege Sardis, adding in applaud of Cyrus, that he made more haste in his Conquests, than himself did in his journey, since he came after his Victory. But to testify unto this Prince, that the King his Master did not doubt of his generosity, but beseeched him before he gave his answer, to honour him with a view of those presents which the King of Phenicia sent, beseeching him to look out at the Window upon the Camels which stood loadened, and which by the magnificence of their cover, made it evident, that what they carried was precious. Also it might be judged by the odoriferous smells wherewith the Air was perfumed, by reason of those perfumes, that it was a most magnificent present.  
Cyrus' seeing such generous proceedings, did satisfy the Ambassadors desires: To testify unto you, said he unto him, that without further deliberation I consent unto the King your Master's desires, I will accept of what he hath sent, not as a price of that Statue which I will restore him, but as a Gage of his amity, which is very dear unto me: And I do accept of his present, to testify that I will learn how to imitate his liberality. After this, Cyrus behaved himself with a thousand civilities to this Ambassador, for he seemed to be a most accomplished man. Moreover, Cyrus knowing that the Tirians were very powerful at Sea, he hoped to get some aid from them for the siege of Cumes; therefore he resolved to render unto the King of Phenicia in the person of his Ambassador all the honours that he could devise. But since the King of Phenicia's extraordinary desire to have this Statue, filled Cyrus with much curiosity, he asked whether it were possible that the person whom it represented, were as full of beauty as it? Ask further, Whether she had a soul and spirit worthy of so fair a body? But he told him that she was much fairer than her Statue, that her Spirit was as high as her beauty, and that her soul was more worthy of esteem and admiration than her beauty and Spirit; adding, that her fortune was as extraordinary as her merit, and her virtue more admirable than all that he had said. After this, the Ambassador presented unto Cyrus the best sort of those who followed him, and amongst the rest, the illustrious man, who bore the name of Aristheus, and presented him as a particular friend unto that fair Lady of whom he spoke, and as being himself one of the rarest men in the World: I think myself very happy (said Cyrus in embracing him) that he is only her friend, for had he been her Lover, perhaps I should not have had the happiness to see him, since it is probable he would have been with the substance for whom this Statue is made: I can assure you Sir, replied Aristheus, that though I were her Lover, and desired above all things to please her, yet should I have had the honour which I have received this day; for that most excellent person takes such great delight to hear talk of your Virtue and Victories, that to obtain her favour, I ever intended to be a Witness of so many truths as you Sir make good, and so be able to please her in talking of you: Your language (replied Cyrus in the same Aristheus spoke) does much oblige me, but I would not have those who come unto me use many adulations and flatteries as you do, lest in taking too much delight in their applauds, I should grow in the end not to merit them from any. After this, Cyrus gave orders unto Hidaspes to conduct this Ambassador and all his Train unto the lodging which was prepared for him, commanding her to treat him with magnificence worthy of that King who sent him. In the mean, though Cyrus by the will of Ciaxares was become Master of all the Treasures of Croessus, upon condition not to restore them unto him; yet he told him concerning this Ambassador, though he was not yet in the possession of his Crown which he would restore unto him, and though it was not above eight days before the ceremony was to be solemnised with the marriage of the Prince Artamas, and all the rest of the happy Lovers who were then at Sardis; and he did more than that, for he did so transact the business, that Croessus and this Ambassador did see each other, Cyrus telling the latter of these, that he ought not to consider this Prince as him who had denied the Statue which the King his Master demanded, but as a Tributary King unto Ciaxares, of whom he desired alliance, since he desired his; so that after this reconciliation, which this Ambassador had power to make, for his Commission was not limited, he did visit the Princess Palmis, as well as the Princess Timaretta, and was so charmed with this magnificent Court, and with the beauty of all the Ladies in it, that at the desire of Cyrus, he promised to be at this great Feast which was to be kept within eight days, during which time, nothing was talked of but the King of Phenicia, whom they said was in Love with that Beauty whose Statue he demanded, every one were full of curiosity to know more precisely the particularities of the adventure; the reason of the difficulty to know it was, because there were only three or four with this Ambassador who understood the Lydian and the Greek Tongue, and these three or four were so busied in answering all that was asked them, as they could not be moved unto any long conversation. Also during the first days, they were taken up in seeing the rarities of the Town, and all the Treasures of Croessus, so that at last the great Feast day arrived before any knew that which they had so great a desire to know. This ceremony was doubtless one of the most sumptuous in the World, and the most glorious for Cyrus, if he had followed the dictates of his own inclination, he had stopped many things which wounded his modesty: But there was a necessity of submitting unto the custom, and unto the Counsels of the King of Hyrcania, Gadates, Gabrias, and Chrisantes, who told him, That it was fit the people with their own eyes should see their King was a Slave, and that it was he who made this Slave a King, so that maugre the repugnance which he had unto it, he yielded unto custom, and harkened unto the counsel of his friends, though not in all things, for he would not suffer Croessus to go chained through the streets of Sardis, from the Palace to the Temple, but thus prevented it. Presently after break of day, Croessus and Myrsiles were carried in a Coach to the lodging of the Highpriest, which joined to the Temple where the ceremony was to be solemnised, where they stayed until it began. In this Temple, which was one of the greatest in the World, was erected an Amphitheatre, most magnificently covered with the richest Tapestry of Sidon, where all the Ladies might most conveniently sit and see. All the streets, from the Citadel to the Temple, were also sumptuously hung, there standing ranks of Soldiers on both sides, all in such glittering Arms, as never was a more glorious sight; a thousand Martial Instruments made the Air echo, with shrill and pleasant sounds, which attracted all the people of Sardis, either into the Temple, or into the street which joined to it, or into the place before the Citadel, out of which Cyrus came accompanied with all his Court, which was so numerous, and so glorious that day, as it was suitable unto the Court of Asia's Conqueror. As for the Phenician Ambassador, he was in the Temple upon a Scaffold with all his Train, next him was the Princess Timaretta, and all the Ladies which lodged in the Palace of Croessus. When Cyrus entered into the Temple with a huge crowd of people about him, Croessus was brought by the Priest into the midst of the Temple, having a Chair, and Fetters of Gold upon his hand, and behind him the Prince Myrsiles in the like manner. The Princess Palmis was next him, but under a Canopy of golden Tissue, and without Chains, Cyrus having no mind that she should have any sign of servitude, or that they should upbraid him with triumphing over a Lady. As soon as this Prince entered into the Temple, most admirable Music was heard, which after it had played a quarter of an hour, some Himns that were sung unto the Gods, did cease: After which, Cyrus who was upon an elevated Throne descended, and taking off the Chains and Fetters which Croessus and and Myrsiles wore, and which he gave unto the Priest, he took from the hand of the said Priest a Crown, and put it upon the head of Croessus, after he had caused him solemnly to swear, that he would acknowledge the power of Ciaxares, never to depart from his interests, and inviolably to keep the conditions between them. Cyrus had no sooner put this Crown upon the head of Croessus; but the vault and roof of the Temple did ring with acclamations, and the people could not be silenced from extolling the generosity of Cyrus. But at the last all the tumultuous noise of joy being appeased, Cyrus ceasing to treat Croessus as vanquished, and to behave himself as a Conqueror, demanded his Daughter for the Prince Artamas in the presence of the Phrygian King who stood next him.  
He had no sooner asked the question, but Croessus taking the Princess Palmis by the hand, presented her unto Cyrus, and bade him dispose of her as he pleased: After which, causing the Prince Artamas to approach, the Priest advanced also, and the Princess Palmis: At the conclusion of which Music did play again, and presently after the Prince Artamas conducted the Princess Palmis into a most magnificent Chariot, which waited at the door of the Temple, and which was followed by a hundred others full of Ladies, all the Princes riding on horseback, accompanied with all the Gallants of Quality. When they came unto the Palace, there was a most sumptuous Feast prepared. and after Dinner a Horserace in the Great Plain. The repast at night was no less Princely than that in the morning, Bonfires were made at every door, the Palace was full of harmonious Music, but the Princess Palmis would not permit any dancing, by reason of the excessive sadness which she saw in the eyes of Cyrus, though he forced himself as much as he could. Also, though Cyrus had restored much unto the King her Father, in restoring the Crown, yet Croessus had lost much in losing his independent Authority, and his Treasures: So that though it was a Festival day, yet it was not one that had all the signs of joy which it might have had: Yet the Phenician Ambassador was extremely satisfied as well as Aristheus, who could not enough admire the illustrious Cyrus, and he was full of observance, that his eye was never off him, as long as he could see. In the mean time, Cyrus having not forgot the desires of Ligdamis, Thrasimedes, Men crates, and Philistion, the ceremony of their Marriages were accomplished the next morning after that of the Prince Artamas, and the whole Court did honour them with their presence. This second Feast was no less magnificent than the first, and Cyrus was no less melancholy this day then before, to see how far short he was of the happiness of all these Lovers. Mazares was no more pleasant than he: However, Cyrus had an extraordinary care that the Phenician Ambassador should be well pleased with his civilities, and to that end he did divert him as much as he could and prepared Presents for the King his Master and him, which were above the double worth of those he received; and finding much satisfaction in the company of Aristheus, he talked with him very often, and certainly not without good reason, for there was not a man in the World who could speak better concerning Politics, nor who better understood the interests of all Princes in that time, then Aristheus did: And to speak truth, Aristheus spoke well in all things whatsoever: And Cyrus did not content himself with discoursing of Affairs in general, but he carried him along with him into the Visits which he made unto the Princesses and other Ladies. He made use of him also to know how the King of Plenicia could furnish him with Ships, before he made any Propositions of it unto the Ambassador of that Prince, insomuch as Aristheus and Cyrus were almost inseparable. Since he was generally knowing in every thing, he spoke so many several languages, that he was able to converse with all the Ladies there, though there were those of many several Countries. In the mean time, since the Phenician Ambassador known that the sooner he returned, the more acceptable he should be unto the King his Master, he moved for his departure as soon as might be. Cyrus' designing to satisfy him, that he might the sooner obtain those Ships he desired, told him, that he was ready to keep promise with him. But before he restored him the rare Statue which he demanded, the Princess Timaretta went to see it, and afterwards all the Court: Those who dwelled in Sardas', and had seen it several times, went again, by reason of that curiosity which this adventure begot in them. And indeed, the curiosity was such, as nothing else was talked on: And Aristheus being very conversant amongst the Ladies, they asked him a thousand questions, but most especially Doralisa, unto whom he applied himself more then unto any other, though others courted his converse more than she did. But the more she talked unto him concerning this admirable person whom this Statue represented, the more he augmented her curiosity: So that being one day much importuned in the presence of the Princess Palmis and Cyrus to relate the History of her Adventures, he promised that it should be exactly done by a friend of his, who knew the particulars of it better than he did, and who indeed did so most pleasingly. Since you are not this Countryman, replied Doralisa, and since I have not the honour to be well known unto you, you do not know that I never use to give any time unto those who promise me any thing, especially when by holding them to their promises, I shall oblige two persons so illustrious as those who now hear me, and who will certainly be very glad to know the adventures of a Lady in whom the King of Phenicia hath so much interest. Cyrus' approving of Doralisa's Speech as well as the Princess Palmis, Aristheus told them, they should be satisfied when they pleased: So that without further delay, it was resolved, that at that night he should perform his promise, as indeed he did: For he prepared him who was to relate what they desired to know, to go with him unto the Princess Palmis Chamber, where the Princess Timaretta would be a partaker of that diversion. 'Tis true, Aristheus could not stay there, because the Phenician Ambassador sent a Post that night unto the King his Master, to give him an account of his happy success in his 〈◊〉, and he was obliged to write also: So that after he had brought his friend thither, whose name was ●clamis, and that Cyrus and the Princesses saw him to be a man of good Spirit, he 〈◊〉, ask leave of Cyrus to go, whilst Telamis was making his relation, and make another unto the King of Phenicia of his magnificence and generosity, and of all the most rare Qualities which he found in him; adding further, most obligingly, that since he intended to conceal none of his active virtues from the King his Master, he did not think he could return before the end of Telamis his relation: After which, making me 〈◊〉 low obeisance, he retired, and left Telamis with the Princess of Phrigia, Timaretta, Cyrus, and Doralisa, who after some short preamble to excuse his imperfections in the Narration of his history, he began it most elegantly in Greek, which all his Auditors did understand admirably well, Palmis and Cyrus desiring him to address his Speech unto Timaretta.  

The History of ELISA.  
THough I know very well Madam, that persons of your Quality are ignorant of nothing which passeth in the Courts of Kings, who most remote from their own; yet I may in reason think, that an African Princess will take some pleasure in hearing exactly related, the manners and customs of one of the most considerable Kingdoms in all Asia. Also, since the History which I am to relate cannot be very well understood, before I give you an Idea of our Court, and the manners used, I conceive it better, first to make a general description of it, before I come unto the particular persons whereof it is composed, and who are interested in the adventure which I am to relate: I must therefore tell you Madam, how that since the Phoenicians were almost the first people of Asia, who exposed themselves unto long Voyages at Sea, and established the greatest Commerce amongst his Meighbour Nations, they abounded in riches much more than others, and consequently it may be very rightly said, that their delights, their luxury, their voluptuousness, and their magnificence were more abundant amongst them then any other people; not but that this State hath been shrewdly shaken several times: One while by the commotion which the Phoenicians made concerning the Daughter of the King of Argas: Another time by the Rebellion which those of Crete made at Tire, concerning the King of Phenicia's Daughter: Sometimes by the division of Pigmation and Did 〈…〉, and by the flight of that Princess: And another time by the general Rebellion of all the Phenician Peasants, who entirely subverted the Government. But at the last, maugre all these revolutions of Fortune, this Kingdom hath of late recovered its first splendour, and the Cities of Tire and Sidon, which may both of them be termed the Metropolitans of this Estate, are certainly two of the goodliest, most magnificent, and richest Towns in the World, either in respect of their situations, or the beauty of their buildings; or their great traffic in Purples wherewith they cloth the Kings of the earth, and are an ornament of the World. Moreover, as there is nothing which contributes more unto the perfection of Arts than Riches, nor which more readily attracts all strangers who have any excellencies than abundance: It may very well be said, that one might find all Greece in Phenicia, since certainly there were the Workmen of all those famous Towns: So that by this means, the buildings in Tire and Sidon were not only most stately, but most regularly built, the Painters there were good, the Ingravers excellent, and the Music comparably charming unto the Lydian. The Ladies were not only fair, but they were also stately, ingenuous, and apt in every thing they attempted to learn, there being not one Woman amongst the Phenician people who did not excel in some work or other, either for the ornaments of Women of high quality, or for the use of the Temple. As for the Court there, I may well say, and not say too much, that it is the most complete in the World: The lives they lead, are doubtless most pleasant, especially because Merits there before Birth are promoted to the highest Ranks: The converse of Ladies is there allowed, but yet in such a Medium of liberty as is equally void, both of two much ceremony or any incivility, Dance, Walking, and Music, are the ordinary recreations of that Court: Discourse is the chief business of all those who have any Spirits, and especially of Ladies unto whom there is daily resort, and who are the dispensors of the glory and reputation of all complete men; for whosoever hath not the approbation of four or five Ladies, can never hope to pretend unto any universal esteem. As for the men, it may be said there are of all sorts: And indeed there are some men of great quality, whose merits are infinitely above their quality: And there are also some who have nothing to boast of but their quality: There are some whose glory consists in the magnificence of their Train, and richness of their clothes: And there are others, whose glory is only in their own virtues: And doubtless there are another sort of men, of an insupportable vainglory: But to speak generally, there is a kind of such a Spirit of Politeness that reigns in the Court, as renders it most delightful, and which produceth an incredible number of most complete men; and that which makes them so, is, because the men of Quality in Phenicia scorn to be ignorant in all sorts of Sciences, and are not as in some other Courts, where they imagine, that if a man know how to use a Sword, may be allowed to be ignorant in all things else. But on the contrary, there's not a man of any condition in our Court, who is not able to judge of the rarest works, or at lest who does not strive to honour himself, by honouring those who are more knowing then himself.  
This Madam was the condition of our Court, when that most admired Lady, of whom I am to discourse, came into the World; and this is that same which it is at this day. It requisite I tell you Madam, before I begin to speak of this most excellent person, that the late King of Phenicia, who hath a great part in the beginning of this History, was a Prince who merited the name of a great Conqueror, making himself most eminent upon a hundred several occasions, and having purchased the reputation of extraordinary valour; but being born under a more amorous constellation, than ever any of his condition was: It may very well be said, that he joyed more in the Conquests of his Love, than he did in those of Mars. He had an universal civility unto all of that Sex, which made him generally loved: And his Spirit being infused unto all the Courtiers, every man under his Reign had all Ladies in a high esteem and Veneration: Also I assure you, the Gods could never have sent this person into the world, of whom I am to speak in an age disposed to adore her Beauty, admire her Spirit, and reverence her Virtue, as in this. Now Madam, I shall tell you, that this incomparable Lady, whose name was Elisa, is of a very Noble Family, and hath this advantage, to be born in great abundance of wealth; for her Father, whose name was Straton, was extreme rich. This man was of Spirit enough, but it was a Spirit of ambition, and for the world: He was of a hot and lively temper, who loved all manner of pleasures, and who was never content, unless his house were filled with all the Grandeur of the Court; he kept an open and plentiful Table; his house was the Rendezvouz of pleasures, either in Walkings, Musics, or Feasts: So that it may be said, Elisa was born in a house of joy. The Wife of Straton, called Barcea, was fair, but fantastical, and did not contribute any thing, neither to the pleasures of her Husband, or of those who came to him: And it often so fell out, that she was not seen, and left in her Chamber without the least, how do you. Since Straton had been long married before he had any children, when Elisa came into the World, he was extraordinarily joyed at her, and solemnised her Birth, with a Feast of a vast expense. I will not insist long Madam upon the extraordinary beauty of this Child, when first she saw light: But I beseech you permit me to begin the History of her life, from her coming out of her Cradle, since certainly in Tire they talked of the little Elisa, as a great miracle, when she was not above five or six years of age: It was not only the prodigious lustre of her beauty which filled the Court with admiration, but it was as well her rare wit and sprightly answers; it was her excellent grace, and strange facility to learn any thing was taught her, and her pleasant conceits in diverting company; also a stateliness at that age, as would have becomed the Majesty of a Queen: Besides all these qualities, she had two more, which did render her most amiable, for she had such an admirable voice, and such an inclination unto Dancing, as that at the age of five years she was most excellent in both, beginning also to play upon the Lute, which she did with such a grace, that she charmed all her hearers. Elisa being thus qualified as I tell you, and much more amiable than I am able to relate, you may easily conceive that her Father did most tenderly love her, and he loved her so much the more, because he observed that his Wife did not love her over-well, and because the beauty of his Daughter, though a child, did stick in her stomach: Nor did he leave her unto her guidance, but on the contrary, he placed the little Elisa in a Chamber, far off hers, and set a Governess over her, who was as virtuous as she was apt, and fit to cultivate the sweet and noble inclinations of this young Lady: So that she being of a natural siveetness, and educated with such extraordinary care, it is no wonder this rare child should make a greater noise in the World at nine years of age, than the fairest use to do at eighteen. Also one occasion did present itself, which did make the rare merit of this young Elisa to shine, and which was not talked on only in Tire, but also throughout all Phenicia, and all the Kingdoms, whose Ambassadors were then at our Court. Be pleased to know Madam, that a Tyrian named Crysiles, who was admirable in Music, and had traveled, returned unto Tire, and being a very accomplished man: and known of all the Court, he came unto Straton's house, as others did, and was so charmed with the young Elisa, that he would needs become her Master in Music, and teach her upon the Lute, and to sing all those Songs which he learned of the famous Arion, with whom he had an intimate friendship at Lestos, and whom he had seen at the Cape of Tonarus, when that Dolphin which saved his life brought him thither: Since this accident was a great miracle, and Crysiles an eye-witness of it, I believe he was desired by every one to tell it, a thousand and a thousand times over, so that it was the only talk of the Town for many days. The King himself caused him to relate it, and so did the Queen; and Chrisiles was so tired with so often relating it, as he said once laughing, that Arion's Dolphin was not so weary with carrying him, as he was with telling the same thing so oft over: The time was then, when the custom was to celebrate a great Feast unto Neptune: For the Tirians being all Seamen, their grand devotion is unto the Sea Gods: They conceived also, that their Town being an Isle, they were more obliged than any others to reverence Neptune: You know Madam, how it is a received belief every where, that during the love of this God unto Amphitrites, there was a Dolphin which did prodigious feats for him, and how this Fish was placed among the Stars for the good services which he had done that God: So that the Tirians in the honour of this God and Amphitrite, do extremely reverence Dolphins; and understanding this adventure of Arion from Crysiles, they attributed the miracle unto Neptune, as Master of the Seas. This time being near that Feast, and it being the King who was to be at the charges of that ceremony, this Prince did contrive a place according unto the custom, to represent some Emblems of Neptune, and he made choice of this adventure of Arion.  
He no sooner had this fancy, but he did communicate it unto those that had the contrivance of such things, and unto Crisiles also; and they all agreed, that this adventure would furnish out a most rare Scene, and make a most pleasant show; So that without any more delay, Painters, Ingravers, Engeneers, and Musicians were to be employed, and the King being then deeply in Love with a Lady of that Court, it may very well be said, that this magnificence intended, was made as much for her as for Neptune. In the mean while, the Engeneers and Painters found out an invention to represent the Sea, to make Neptune appear sitting in his Chair, and Amphitrites in hers; to represent Ships, and the Tritons, and the Nereids, to show a Dolphin which should seem to swim, but they could not devise who it should be that should represent Arion, who as Crisiles said, was both young and fair; and since the best Singers there were neither young nor fair, they were a little puzzled; but in conclusion, Crisiles who aimed at nothing more than the glory of the young Elisa, made a Proposition unto the King, that he would command Straton to permit his Daughter to represent Arion, which he could not refuse, since the Queen herself was to represent Amphitrites. The advice of Crisiles was not at the first liked by the King, who feared that the young Elisa would be out of countenance, and spoil the finest passage of the Music: But Crisiles answered the King so satisfactorily, that the King consented, and he was no less busy in ordering this entertainment, than he would have been in ordering a Battle, and therefore sent immediately unto Straton, to propose the business unto him: But lest he should be denied, he did both prey and command at once, so that Straton did not deny. This Prince also desired the Queen to ask Barce concerning Elisa, lest out of her capricious design, she should be any obstacle unto the design. But in conclusion Madam, not to abuse your patience with any frivolous and impertinent relations, Crisiles taught the young Elisa the very same words and Air 〈◊〉 Arion used to allay the cruelty of those that would have devoured him. Crisiles 〈◊〉 obtained the favour to have them from him, though he would not give them unto a 〈…〉, and the wonder was, Elisa did so admirably learn them, that Crisiles himself was a 〈…〉ed; but the greatest wonder of all was, to see the confidence and boldness of the young Elisa, without any more astonishment, then if she had been in her own Chamber, having no other Spectator but her Governor, though it was in the presence of a full and glorious Court. I will not lose so much time Madam, as to describe the magnificence of this Music; it will be sufficient I only tell you, that never was a finer in Phenicia, and I will only insist upon that which concerned the young and fair Elisa: Though I could tell you Madam, that the Sea was so fully represented, that all the Spectators feared the Waves would have dashed themselves against the Company: And that the Chairs of Neptune and Amphitrites, were adorned with all that the Sea produced most rich; that Pearls, Choral, and Rubies, were the garments of these two Divinities: The vestures of the Nercides and the Tritons were of Aggates, Mother of Pearl and Sea Rushes: That the Ship out of which Arion was cast into the Sea, seemed to be far distant, as if it had floated to catch the Dolphin; and that all the Scenes were so lively represented, as that they did deceive the eyes. But give me leave to tell you Madam, that when the young Elisa appeared upon the Dolphin, all the Assembly shouted a cry of admiration, which in lieu of amazing, did embolden her, and caused their wonder to double. The truth is, never could any thing be a rarer Spectacle, then to see Elisa upon this Dolphin, which swimming gently, and lifting his head out of the Water, as if he were proud of such a burden, seemed as if he would leap amongst the Assembly, swimming sometimes on one side, and sometimes on another. The young Elisa, whose hair was fair, like as Apollo is represented, did tie up her locks with much becomingness, lest they should have hung down too long, yet divers of them in Breads did hang negligently upon her shoulders: Her dress was of Tissue in divers colours mingled with Gold: Her Buskins, which suffered some part of her white legs and feet appear under her waving Garment, which the motion of the Dolphin stirred, did imitate the manner how Fishes do swim. A thousand Diamonds set in several places of her Garment did cast a shining flame, but the eyes of the fair Elisa did outshine them all: The sleeves of her Garment reached no further than her Elbows, which suffered the lovely plumpness of her youth to appear.  
The Air being then very hot, and Elisa having naturally a Love incarnate complexion in her cheeks, with a mixture of pure white, her Beauty augmented, and appeared more lively and fresh; her lips were perfect Coral, her teeth no snow was whiter, and her eyes no Stars more lustrious. After all this, you may well conceive Madam, that Elisa was a glorious Object, who without any astonishment at the motion of the Dolphin, nor at the stirring of those well represented Waves, nor at the presence of the King or Queen, nor at that huge number of Spectators, did hold her Lute with a most admirable grace, and did sing with so much wonderful confidence and skill, that all the Court was surprised and charmed. Crisiles was in an ecstasy of joy, and indeed it was a wonder, that the voice of one so young should reach so far, as to fill so vast a place as that was with a harmony so charming, as moved all hearts unto admiration. Also when she was landed at a Cape, which represented the Cape of Tenaros; and when the Dolphin had set her on shore, the King was so transported with admiration, that not staying the end of the Music, he went to embrace her, and made extremely much of her. Afterwards he carried her to the Queen, who was also come out of her Chair, and gave her a thousand commendations, which she received with much respect: But the applauds which every one in the Court did give her, with the most Majestic fury in the world, as if for a thing which she thought to be a mere vanity: After this Madam, she went often to the Queen, yet she never went, but she still augmented the admiration of all those who saw her; and I am confidently persuaded, that she made more Lovers at that time, then did think themselves to be so, and who because of her exceeding youth, imagined their passions were no more than only an admiration, and complacency of themselves, which moved them to seek all occasions of seeing her, only because she diverted them: Since the King was engaged at that time in a most violent passion, and since Elisa was a very child, he looked upon her only as a miracle, and not as a Mistress, yet he made her a thousand welcomes, and applauded her to the Skies upon every occasion: He never saw Straton, but he asked how his Daughter the fair Elisa did; and there was never any extraordinary diversion, but the young Elisa must needs be present. In the mean time, as she grew, so did her beauty, and faster, and every Spring put fresher Lilies and Roses upon her cheeks, then grows in any gardens: At fourteen years of age, she was the most exact Beauty that ever was seen in Phenicia: And Madam, as I have already described the beauty of Elisa in her Childhood, so I beseech you give me leave to describe her, as she was at fourteen, and as she is at present; and it is requisite I let you know her heart and her Spirit, that you may with more delight and attention hear her adventures: Imagine therefore Madam, a person of the most handsome and noble stature in the world, if you will conceive Elisa's: And though it was much under the common height of one that can be called tall, yet her stature was so exactly handsome, as all her body was as fair as her face. Moreover, her port was so noble and free, and yet so full of Majesty, that never any was seen to walk with a better grace, nor stand still with a more modest countenance, yet confident enough.  
Moreover, her action was no less pleasing, than her stature was noble, and her Port Majestic, her favour was neither forced nor careless, she looked without affectation, and yet looked, as if she would appear fair: If she consulted with her glass to rectify any thing that was amiss in her dress, she did it with so handsome a grace, and with so much art, that any would say her hair did with delight obey those fair hands which ordered it. All that she did was done in such a taking way, that one knew not how to look upon her, and not love her. Moreover; Nature never gave fairer eyes unto any then unto her, they were not only full and fair, but they were also fiery and sweet, and sparkling altogether, but so quick and sparkling, and so dazzled all that looked upon them, as their true colour cannot be well defined; her mouth was as perfect a beauty as her eyes; the pure whiteness of her teeth deserved the Carnation of her lips, her young and fresh complexion made so great, so natural, and so surprising a lustre, that at the very first sight she would force admiration and applauds: Indeed the delicacy and purity of her complexion cannot be expressed by any tongue, ingredients of white and red were so sweetly mixed, that the fairest and sweetest Jessimons and Roses comes not near it in comparison: Her Nose was of a most exact Cicemtry, and Proposition, without rising too much or too little, but made a most complete beauty: Indeed the whole composure of her face being neither very round, nor very oval, though it inclined more to the last than the first, was a most prime work of Nature, who joining all her wonders together, kept back nothing that could possibly be desired. Moreover, Elisa's Neck was no less fair, than all the parts described before, so that the most envious at her beauty could find no fault to carp at: You may well imagine then Madam, that such a young Lady as I have described, who dressed herself to the best advantage, who played most admirably upon the Lute, who sung better than ever any did, and who danced with a grace above imitation, was most fit to take hearts: Yet I cen assure you Madam, this is not all, for which Elisa was commendable: for be pleased to know, that her spirit and her wit had a million of charms and Beauties in them, and she knew so well how to make a mixture of mirth and jollity with her wisdom and modesty, that never any was more exact in the Art: There was in her humour such a jolly pleasantness, as would make a great company very merry, though they were all the most serious and grave persons in the world; and she knew so well how to answer all those who did visit her, both how to divert them, and how to please them, and how to oblige them, that every one was infinitely pleased with her, be they of what humours they would. Since she had seen all the complete Gallants in Phenicia, one may safely say she knew all that they did know; and believe it, she could speak of all things very fitly and well, though she spoke of many things which she never heard before: But as she was good at conversation in general, so was she also at particular; for she would be a whole afternoon talking with one of her friends with as much gravity, as if she were at a great Feast: Questionless she was a lover of company, but she would not be weary in solitude; and when she was in the Country walking by a River's side, and hearing the Nightingales sing, she would be as pleasant, as if all the Court was with her. Moreover, never any was of more regular nor of more exact civility than she; she did as much as possibly she could to accord the disobliging of any, but on the contrary, did with a serious care study how to oblige all the world: But Madam, her soul was yet far greater than her beauty, and transcended her wit, and it cannot be better expressed, then by saying, that it was so full of generous and heroic thoughts, that glory only did animate her heart: She was indeed something choleric, but her choler was so tempered with an ingenuous sweetness, as that it never displeased, and as there was a kind of pride in her soul, so there was a sweet tenderness in her heart. Indeed never any loved her friends with more zeal, nor treated her Lovers with more rigour: There was never any unto whom she promised friendship, had the least cause to complain, she was ever ready to do them all good offices with joy, even to the expenses both of purse and health, by taking pains in their business; she loved them, though absent, exiled, prisoners, without money, without credit, and her friendship hath sometimes gone as far as their very graves. Grandeur never daunted Elisa, she has seen Kings and Princes at her feet, and would never permit her soul to be taunted with that vainglory, which looks only at appearances, and seduceth all weak souls: She was as unmoveable as a stone at the interest of riches, as you shall perceive by the sequel of the story; she was not capable of any envy, though almost all the Beauties envied her: On the contrary, she did ever aggravate the Beauty of others; and one of her greatest delights was to see any good qualities in others, virtue had predominate charms over her, she loved all that was worthy to be loved, and hated vice with as much zeal as she loved virtue; she was not only full of humility, but modesty, but it was a true real modesty, which is no less in the heart than the face, and which never deceives those who admire it.  
Moreover, she was as full of prudence as wit, though far from that which is called subtlety, which often passeth for that virtue amongst many persons: But as for Elisa, she was full of sincerity, she was capable of the closest secrets, and of a constancy which hath few examples amongst those of her Sex. The truth is Madam, Elisa is a miracle, and it is no wonder at all she should get so many lovers and friends: But since she hath been more happy in the last of these than the first, I will speak as well of her friends as of her Lovers. But to return to the business from whence I digressed, give me leave to tell you Madam, that Elisa being arrived at the age of fourteen, she made so many Conquests, and subjected so many hearts, that perhaps I should not find belief, if I should number them; for she was beloved of all who were capable of loving; all the Princes in the Court were her Slaves; three Brothers of that Quality Rivals at a time; all men a little inferior unto that Rank acknowledged her power, and she was a Mistress unto all their Masters.  
Chrisiles in teaching her to sing, learned to sigh for her, and he loved her with so much devotion, that he would never teach any other but her, to the end she might only sing perfectly. The very Painters who took her picture, burned in hot flames of Love; there was not one who had any reason that were not in the same condition. In the mean time, Elisa in the midst of all these victories, stood firm as Marble, still the same, and out of a Noble pride, which rendered her more charming, she was not puffed up with her Conquests, and it may very well be said, that Straton had more joys than she; but it was not so with Barcea, who could not endure the great reputation of her Daughter: The young Elisa suffered all her fantastical humours with unparallelled patience, and was very complacential unto the will of her Father; and it was chiefly to please him, that she exposed herself to so much company who came thither, since certainly he affected it much more than she. But to honour the Triumph of Elisa's Beauty, the King of Phenicia, that famous Conqueror, became her Captive, but her Captive in a different manner from that he was accustomed to be, for heretofore his heart was able to make a retreat, but his passion to Elisa was otherwise obliged, and except some that envied her Beauty, none ever spoke or thought any thing which could be disadvantageous to her, and certainly they had no reason, for I verily believe, that there was never any person whose virtue was more pure, nor who was put unto more difficult trial then the virtue of Elisa. I than had the honour to be much in the King's favour at that time, and was the confident of his passion, and by consequence was a witness of Elisa's virtue, though since she hath confessed unto me, that at the first she was joyed a little, to see a Prince who was beloved of his people prostrate at her feet: One who was a terror unto all his Neighbours, and esteemed of all Asia: But she did so discreetly palliate those joys, and always received the King with such an indifferent civility, as I heard that Prince a hundred times say, he never came near her but he trembled: I know very well, that those who had a mind to diminish the honour of Elisa, have reported that it was not impossible to resist a Prince who was none of the handsomest, who had the Garb more of a Soldier then of a King, and one who indeed was no proper man: But for all this, he was one of the most illustrious Kings in the world, and one, who by reason of his familiarity and affability, was extremely pleasing and taking, he would discourse with so fine a grace, and behave himself with so much sweetness, that he gained the hearts of all the world: Moreover, never was Lover so civil, so obsequious, nor so respectful as he, and by consequence it may truly be said, that Elisa did merit infinite glory in resisting so great a Prince: I will not insist Madam, upon any relation of his Courtships, nor upon the Feasts which he made in consideration of her, nor with what assiduity he did visit her, for that would be too tedious and long: But give me leave only to tell you, that he was as diligent in his Courtships of her, as he was of all the others whom he loved. In the mean while, Straton who was of an ambitious composition, was much joyed to see the King was in Love with his Daughter, yet he would always tell Elisa, that he pretended unto no further, then to make use of the King's favour for a certain time, and not that she should sacrifice herself unto his fortune: In order unto this, he was very glad that the King did him the honour to come often unto his house, and that it was become an absolute Court: As for Elisa, she was quickly weary of all these glistering gallantries, for she saw that they were dangerous to her reputation, and deprived her of million of pleasure and divertisements: The respects of a King, caused all the Lovers of Elisa to conceal their Chains; and some of them seem to love others for fear of offending the King, and who durst not so much as speak unto Elisa, which she remembered very well, when afterwards they addressed themselves: Since the virtue of this Lady was well known unto the Queen, the King's Love did not put Elisa out of her good opinion, or of the King: On the contrary, when this Prince was at any time in a melancholy mood, the Queen would seek out for some occasion to make him go and see Elisa: If he were at any time sick, she would send for Elisa to charm his disease with singing, & she esteemed Elisa as much as the King loved her: Since this Prince had a Genius of Rallary, Elisa did a long time receive the expressions of his passion, as if he did it only to divert himself; but afterwards, his passion increasing, she saw that she was driven to the necessity of resolving what course to take, and how she should behave herself towards him: If she followed her own inclination, and the fierceness of her natural disposition, she would have made it her glory to have treated the King worse than the meanest of his Subjects, but she was not ignorant that her Father would take it ill: So that since she knew this Prince had naturally a light kind of a soul, and could entertain more than one passion at one time, she used her best endeavours to extinguish his passion unto her, by reviving in his heart the former love which he had, and perhaps might have again unto a person of rare beauty and virtue, whom he had quitted for her, conceiving, that if he did quit her only for her, and should persist, it would be dishonourable. Having then fixed upon this resolution, she would sing before the King only such songs as had been made for this illustrious Rival, whom she desired should only reign in the heart of this Prince, and that by singing her praises, he should apply himself unto her again.  
Elisa made use of a thousand such desires to lessen the King's passion towards her, and knowing that I had some credit with him, spoke one day unto me, when I was intending to move her to be a little more favourable unto the King: Talamis (said she unto me) The King doth me the greatest honours in the world in visiting me, and making a distinction between me and others of my quality; yet I wish you would be pleased to do me a good office unto him, which would be a very acceptable favour unto me, but I am afraid you will not: Methinks Madam, (said I unto her and smiled) you should easily believe without any arguments of persuasion, that I cannot deny any thing unto the Mistress of my Master: And besides, I am so devoted unto your service, that you may command me any thing without the least fear of disobedience: It is not as the Mistress of your Master, replied she, that I desire you should satisfy my desire, but as I am your friend, and as so I will be (if you do not deny me) as long as I live: I beseech you Madam, said I unto her, make haste, and tell me what is your pleasure I should do to merit that glorious Title which you are pleased to promise me upon those conditions: My desire is, said she, That you will cause the King to love me less than he doth, and that he will renew his affection unto that most accomplished Lady, whom he so zealously adored before: How Madam (said I unto her) would you have the King love you less? Yes, answered she, I much desire it, because I am a real Lover of honour, but wish not to be ranked with three or four persons whom he hath already loved, and whom a little false glory seduced: I must confess unto you, added she, that if the King should quit me out of scorn, perhaps I should be so weak as to be a little angry. And I think also, that if he should cast me off for some whom he named unto me, I should also be something moved: But if he should leave me, only because he hath repent of his infidelity unto so accomplished a Lady as she is whom he quitted for me, I do assure you I should be extremely joyed; therefore I conjure you to speak unto him upon all opportunities, in behalf of this illustrious Rival: Let him often look upon her Picture, and rekindle, if it be possible, that fire which blazed out so glorious a flame: For truly Telamis, I consider that the King cannot make me a Queen, and though he could, yet is not my Quality worthy to be one; and he would be infinitely injurious to himself, if he should have any such thought: But I assure you, that my heart is too high, and my soul too noble to sacrifice my honour upon an ill-grounded vanity; therefore Telamis I conjure you not to deny me this request.  
I do confess Madam, that this Discourse of Elisa did surprise me: At the first, I thought that she had some secret inclination another way, which perhaps was one part of her virtue; for I could not imagine that one so young as she was capable of such a resolution as this: but I was quickly undeceived, and was constrained to admire the virtue of Elisa, more than her beauty: The truth is, I was so charmed, that I forsook the King's Interest for hers: so that in lieu of negotiating with her as he pleased, I negotiated with him as Elisa pleased: Yet was it not possible to do as she desired; so that resolving to speak unto him herself, she did it with so much confidence and generosity, that this Prince loved her the more: yet she had so much power over him, as he protested that he would never have any unjust designs upon her, and that he would do what he could to moderate the violence of his passion; which was no easy matter for him to do; but to bring it about, and to chase one passion out with another, he designed some Conquests upon the Sircans which are toward the West; and in order to that, ●e prepared a great Navy, and employed himself wholly in the Wars, purposely to lessen that love which reigned in his Soul: so that it may be said, he was as diligent in chase Elisa out of his heart, as if he would have won her by winning of Battles. In the mean while, it delighted Elisa, that all Phenicia did strive in vain to know the cause of the King's designs; and it pleased her that he talked of nothing but advancing her family, but advancing her father, and promising her, that if he could not cure himself of his passion by this voyage which he was attempting, to let her live as she pleased at his return: and that he would endeavour all possible ways to please her. But to testify how extreme the Love of this Prince to Elisa was, even at the very same time that he endeavoured to extinguish it, be pleased to know that Dipoenus and Scillis, whose Fame was blazed over all the world, being landed at Tyre, he entertained them, to make during his absence the rare Statue, which at this present is among the Treasures which Croessus had heaped up, and which doth so lively resemble Elisa; appointing them to represent her, as the Athenians did represent Victory, which was without wings, intimating by that as well as they, he would not have Victory forsake and fly from him: For their pains, he promised such great Recompense when he returned, that it is not imaginable what he would have given for the possession of Elisa herself, since he would give so much only for her Statue. Since he had several Pictures of this fair Elisa, Dipoenus and Scillis did form their model by them: Also they had several sights of her, though she knew not the reason why they looked so upon her, for the King did keep it secret: In the mean time, Elisa was much joyed in her hopes, that her father's ambition would be satisfied without any hazard of her honour or reputation; and therefore she made a thousand vows and prayers for the happy success of the King's expedition, who embarked after he had given Straton a thousand Assurances of Grandeur at his Return, not daring to express himself more directly concerning his Passion: I shall not weary you Madam, with a Relation of this War: The beginning and sequel was prosperous to the King; he defeated his enemies wheresoever he met them; and he never sent any news of his Victories unto Tyre, but he writ unto the incomparable Elisa, and thanked her as the cause of all his happy success: In conclusion the difference between the King of Phenicia and the Sircans came to General Battle, which the King gave, and had the Victory, and sent presently by me the news of it unto the Queen, and at the same time unto Elisa; forbidding me to speak unto any, that he had received a slight wound with a dart on his side, lest it should disquiet the Queen, or diminish the joys of the people for his Victory: commanding me moreover, to assure the Queen and particular Elisa in private, that he would follow within eight days with his victorious Army, after he had left some Garrisons in certain places which he took in the beginning of the War. So using the help both of Sail and Oar, I came to Tyre with incredible speed, and brought with me this news of Joy, which presently became so universal, that nothing was thought on but magnificent Preparatious for the King's Entry. Elisa, though not very well, yet she did partake of this public Rejoicing, and the sooner, because the Letter, which I brought from the King, was the most obliging in the world; and because I assured her, that in lieu of losing this Prince's heart as she once intended, she had only purified it, and made it capable only of an innocent passion: Adding afterwards, how he had commanded to tell Straton, that he should prepare himself to receive as soon as he arrived, one of the most considerable Offices in the State. So that Madam, Elisa, having reason to hope for the being the King's Favourite, and not his Mistress, as so many others had been, she began to desire his return, and to be impatient of seeing him: Since I had an extraordinary esteem of her, and loved no other, I never was from her, where Straton was very glad to see me; and I went the oftener, because the house of Straton being towards the Sea, I was certain from the Chamber of Elisa, to see a Ship arrive, which I thought to be one of the Kings that came before to acquaint us with the hour of his arrival; but it was not so, for that Ship suffering Shipwreck, we wondered one day when I was in Elisa's Chamber, to see the whole Navy appear: Since I spied it the first, I could not choose but express my joys, by acquainting Elisa with it: Come Madam, said I unto her, Come and triumph over the Conqueror of others, and fully enjoy your Victory.  
She blushed at my words, and we no sooner went to the Balcone, but we discerned the Fleet, and presently after, we discovered how all the Ships had their ornaments of victory: We saw a thousand Flags waving in amongst the Cordage, as many flames flashing, the Ships were set round with colours gained from the Enemies, and all the Decks shined with gold and silver: But that which most surprised Elisa and me when the Fleet came nearer, was to perceive all these Flags and Pennons, in lieu of being of several colours, as they use in combat or in Triumph, were all of one dusky dark colour mixed with gold and silver, such as is used in the Funeral ceremonies of Kings: The sight of this made us begin to tremble, but our admiration augmented, when coming nearer the place where we were, we could distinctly perceive, that the Captain who had more ornaments than the rest of the Ships, had upon his Deck a great Coffin, placed upon a half part of three stairs, and that this Coffin was covered with black cloth, wrought with gold, upon which was placed a Crown, and a magnificent Sword, and at the head of this Coffin a Trophy elevated, to signify, that he who died and was in the Coffin, died in triumphing, a hundred lighted Lamps hung round about the Deck: The King's chief Officers were in mourning, and waited round about the Coffin: This sight caused extreme sorrow in Elisa's heart and mine; a doleful music was heard from every Ship, which by its lamentable tone spoke the King of Phenicia to be dead: All the Ships gained from the enemy followed this Captain, but without any Flags, Pennons, Banners, or Ornaments to signify their defeat; the Soldiers in them were chained upon the Decks of the Ships, to honour the Funeral Pomp of that illustrious Conqueror. To be short Madam, it was the King of Phenicia who was dead of his slight hurt, which he had commanded me to conceal from the Queen and Elisa when he sent me to carry the news of his victory: Doubtless you will ask me Madam how it was possible, that a wound which permitted this Prince to write unto the Queen and Elisa, and which did hardly trouble him, should cause his death so suddenly: But I shall answer, that the Dart which had been poisoned, as it was known after my departure, and the venom having not dispersed its malignity when I came from him, he did not seem to be so much as ill. But as soon as I had left him, the venom reached his heart, and he died within twenty four hours after: He was no sooner dead, but his Lieutenant General dispatched a Ship for Tire●, to bring this sad news: Mean while, he cast anchor near a great Town not far off his Road, purposely to give orders for all things necessary to honour the Funeral Pomp of the King his Master: But as I told you, the Ship which should have preceded the Fleet, being Shipwracked, none were advertised of the King's death, nor of the Navies approach. After this Madam, you may easily imagine, how Elisa and I were amazed and grieved; for though the soul of Elisa was not engaged in any passion to this Prince, yet since she was of a generous disposition, and sensible of benefits, it was impossible she should look upon the Coffin of this Prince, whom she had seen so respective at her feet, with a dry eye, or tranguile soul: And when the Captain of the Ship came under her Window, she hastily retired, as not being able to endure so sad an object; yet notwithstanding her retirement, her sorrows increased when the Ship came into the Port, and the people who were crowded to render honour unto their victorious and living King, did cry out most dolorously, when they knew that their Prince was dead: The noise of such a clamour was so great, that the Chamber of Elisa seemed to shake, and it was long before we could make our complaints, because we could not hear each other: 'Tis true, our tears did speak our sorrows, and we said many things in saying nothing: But at last our tongues were sad expressors of our losses, yet it was not suddenly, for Elisa desiring to know all particulars of his death, willed me to go out and inform myself. But this is not pertinent to my discourse, let me only tell you Madam, That the last words of the dying King was with the name of Elisa, which did not lessen the grief of this fair and virtuous Lady. As she was moved only out of her generosity, so Straton grieved out of interest and gratitude both, for all his hopes were quashed, and could not expect that from the new King which he hoped for from the other. Never was a more general mourning than this, never was a greater consternation than seemed to be amongst the people, and never did change of Prince cause such an alteration in private fortunes.  
During this confused unsetledness, and trouble which was in the Court, Straton went into the Country, and carried Elisa with him, who was glad of such a solitude to hide her melancholy, and where she was pleased I should sometimes come and see her: But during this time, D●●oenus and Scillis, having moved the King's Officers for what the late King had promised unto them, and these Officers, perhaps without acquainting the King having repulsed them, they embarked in the night; and carried away with them the rare Statue which they had made, and which they said was an absolute miracle. In the mean time, as it is the custom to mourn for the death of a King, so it is also the custom to rejoice with him who is to succeed; and as public sorrows never last long, so a calm began suddenly to appear in the Court, and things were settled as before: As for Elisa, though she was not of an humour to pass so quickly from sorrows into joys, yet out of reason and wisdom she roused up herself; and since her heart was not engaged in any particular affection, her sorrows were more easily comforted: Straton then returning unto Tire, Elisa returned also; and since she had never seen the Queen since the King's death, she went to her as soon as she had got into a habit of mourning. Never was the Court so full as now, there was not a man of any quality in all Phenicia who was not there at Tire; So that when Elisa was with the Queen, with a Princess who loved her very well, she met with the applauds of all the Grandees in the Court and Realm: For indeed Madam, the mourning which Elisa wore for that renowned Conqueror, did so very well become her, that without doubt it helped her to conquer many hearts which were not yet subjected, that black and plain dress, that veil hanging down to the ground over her fair hair, that plated Tiffiny about her fair Neck, and tied with several black Ribbons, like a Scarf; those turned up sleeves, which let the whiteness of her arms appear, and all her sad habit, which gave a more fresh lustre to her eyes, and was a foil unto the freshness of her complexion, all of these were so advantageous unto her, that her greatest adorers confessed, they never saw her so fair; and they pressed so that day to see her, that one could hardly pass through the Chamber unto the Queen, who did treat her according to her merits. Amongst that crowd of gallants, there was one that day with the Queen, whose name was Poligenes, who was one of the most considerable men in our Court, both for his quality and merit, who being a great friend of Stratons, and one of the prime Admirors of Elisa, was ravished with joy at the acclamations which were attributed to her Beauty, yet he thought that this his joy was as much an effect of that friendship which he held with the Father, as the love which he bore the Daughter; for having seen her in the Cradle, and used in her infancy to speak unto her, as if he had been her Brother, also given her a hundred advisements in divers accidents, he could not believe he was in Love with her; yet it was not long before he did perceive it, as I shall hereafter tell you: Amongst this multitude of men of Quality, who were then at Court, there was one of Sidon, called Phocilion, who having never seen Elisa before, was so surprised and charmed, that he could not talk of any thing else: He did not content himself with looking upon her whilst she was with the Queen, but he followed her when she went out as far as her Coach, afterwards he came in again unto the Queen, and mixing with the company of three or four, whereof Poligenes was one, he began to extol the beauty of Elisa very highly, ask where she lodged? who used to visit her often? and who could carry him thither? Poligenes, who till now was glad of the praises which were attributed unto Elisa, began to think strange at those which Phocilion gave her, for he was very handsome, and he told this fresh Adorer of Elisa, that the house of Straton was not now so open and free, as it was wont to be in the time of the late King, and therefore he would not advise him to court his new acquaintance; adding further, that since he was a Sidonian, it was not convenient for him to see such a dangerous person in Tire; yet for all this, his persuasions would not work upon Ph●cilion, for which he was very sorry: So that calling himself to an account, he found, that certainly the affection which he bore unto Elisa, was of another nature than he imagined: But before I acquaint you Madam with the progress of this Love, it is requisite I acquaint you what kind of man the lover was. Poligenes was doubtless descended from a very illustrious family, and out of a house more noble than that of Elisa, his person was very handsome, he was rich and neat in his habit, and never any had a more Polite and facetious wit than he, Courtship and gallantry were qualities born with him, civility was inseparable from him, and though he was of a little too serious composition, yet he was not melancholy; but on the contrary, his conversation was very pleasing: 'Tis true, he was a little reserved and particular, and never spoke in any of those tumultuous conversations, where there was much company: If he was at any time to give a treatment, he would do it with so good a grace in such order, and so neatly, that one would believe it cost him half as much more as it did; and in any thing which he undertook, either Races, Musics, Balls, Walks, or Feasts, he always had something extraordinary and rare; so that all unanimously did give him the reputation of the neatest of men, and it may well be said, that all the spruce youths of the Court came not near him: Poligenes was about thirty five years of age when the late King of Phenicia died, although he seemed not to be above twenty and eight: He had a Brother much younger than himself, but he was not then at Tire; Poligenes being as I have described, did not mix himself with the youth of the Court, which made such a crowd upon Elisa, as if he were their Rival; but on the contrary, he behaved himself as the friend of Straton, and his Daughter, not but that he did commend her with a better grace than they, and was as full of his expressions of gallantry, but it was in a way more subtle, and by not professing the Gallant he was more Courtly than they: Since he knew the sharpness of Elisa's humour, he carried it so as he persuaded her, that whatsoever he said, were only effects of that Gallantry which proceeded from his natural Genius; so that Elisa not suspecting he had any particular design upon her, lived with him in much confidence, and as if he were her brother: The better to palliate his own thoughts, Poligenes would sometimes give her advice, either in acquainting her what was said of her, or in advising her to rid herself of some who visited her, craftily choosing those whom he feared most prejudicial to him: Elisa thinking him well intentioned towards her, thought herself exceedingly obliged to him for his behaviour to her, and his advice, though she would be her own Governor, nor was she of too easy a belief, yet she lived with him in a most obliging manner: So that whilst she made all those to despair whom she thought her Lovers, Poligenes whom she thought only her friend, received a thousand testimonies of esteem and friendship. In the mean time, Phocilion notwithstanding the advice of Poligenes, found out a way by the help of a friend to be carried unto Elisa, and being handsome and of a good spirit, also being of good quality, and a very complete man, Straton entertained him very well, and the better, because he looked upon him as one who might in reason think of a Marriage with his Daughter, for he knew very well, that all those Princes and Grand Signiors who had loved her, would not marry her. As for Elisa she looked upon him as a complete man, and never looked further, for in the humour she was, marriage was no part of her inclination. Phocilion being discreet and wife, having a sweet and pleasing wit, and never speaking any thing unto Elisa, which might give her the least cause to shun his company, he courted hers, and he had presently got that pleasing familiarity with her which she allowed to her friends, and denied to her Lovers. Poligenes upon whom Phocilion cast a shadow, employed all his Stratagems to put him out of Elisia's favour: Sometimes he would tell her, he was but a Rustic, other whi●es, that if she had any thoughts of Marriage, it should be one of a better Rank, and that she might the sooner take his counsel, he would speak sometimes very well of Phocilion, whom he feared more than all the rest: For since he was well acquainted with the high virtue of Elisa, he did much less fear the Princes who loved her then Phocilion, whose condition and quality being more equal unto hers, might permit him to look upon her as a man whom she might innocently Love: But notwithstanding all his advices, he could not persuade Elisa to his wish; and knowing her to be imperious, and that perhaps he might anger her if he assumed any authority over her, he durst not be further importunate: However, his soul enjoyed her usual serenity a few days after, for since Phocilion was not forward, and since his design upon Elisa was not a simple design of Gallantry, but of Marriage, he did not transact as other Lovers did, but carried it with much less noise, because he was not sorry to observe the carriage of Elisa amidst so many Adorers before she would declare herself: So that negotiating as the friend of Straton, Poligenes did a little reassure himself, and also came to be very friendly with Phocilion, who having observed that Poligenes was in Elisa's favour, took a special care not to be upon any ill terms with him. As there is no manner of mourning is so soon passed over, as that of the Court, especially where a young Prince succeeds an old King, so pleasure now began to bud out in Tire, where they began to make many magnificent Feasts, of which Elisa was the fairest ornament.  
There were also divers games of Prize to be played, and I remember one which conducted much to the glory of Elisa, and which procured her the hatred of many beauties: For imagine Madam, that those who won the Prize that day were to carry it unto Elisa, out of the extreme desire they had to please her, and to get some honour in her presence. Those three Princes Rivals whereof I spoke, and who were Brothers and Rivals both, were in the number of those who were to lay at her feet those marks of advantage which they had won: But it was most admirable to see, with what modest pride Elisa refused what they presented unto her, and with what repugnancy she obeyed Straton, who commanded her to accept their offerings. Poligenes, who was one of those who brought the Prize, was yet received more favourably than the rest, because she feared not in him those consequences which she apprehended in those who were her declared Lovers; yet I am confident, that for all her fury, she was not sorry for receiving an honour that day, which none but herself ever had, yet she did hide her satisfaction so well, that she returned home with so little sign of joy, as if she never thought upon it. The next morning, all those who shared in her glory went to visit her, to testify that they were very glad of the honour which she had received; but they found that she had a soul so infinitely above all that can be phrased vanity, that they judged her more worthy of a Crown then the Prize they had offered, not but that she received their applauds with a submissive modesty; but on the contrary, it was with such a proud and fierce humility, (if it may be said) as made it apparent, that she found more satisfaction in herself, then in the praises of another, not but that she did love the commendations of her friends, but she would have their commendations to be real signs of that esteem which those who commend her have of her, and that they be worthy who give her any such applauds: As for those tumultuous Encomiums which are given out of custom or decency, they did more vex than please her; and I have seen her receive them so fiercely, as she hath been ready to convert her love into hatred against those who gave them, and truly it is not strange she should; for besides her natural humour of fierceness, and choler, Poligenes did much contribute unto it; and I am confident that he would commend this Spirit of fierceness in her, a hundred times more than her beauty, voice, or wit: I remember one day amongst the rest, when none but Poligenes, Phocilion, and I were with Elisa, and beginning to commend her generosity in loving to do good offices unto her friends, we fell insensibly to repeat one after another all the excellent qualities which she was owner of, though she endeavoured to make us change our discourse: Since you will needs have me endure your Panigyriques (said she, seeing we still went on) I pray do me the favour to tell me of my faults that I may amend them: For my part, said Phocilion, I cannot find any but one which I can desire should be mended, which is, that you are a little too scornful: For my part, replied Poligenes, I think, and could rather wish she were not so sweetly familiar; for I do profess unto you, that if there were a necessity Elisa should lose any one of those qualities which renders her so admirable, I would let any of them go, rather than her scornful and haughty way of demeanour: How, (said I with admiration, and looked upon Poligenes) Do you prefer the pride of Elisa before any other of the good qualities which she is owner of? I beseech you consider well what I say, (replied he) and do not think I speak without reason: I must confess, replied Phocilion, that my reason reacheth not so far, nor can I understand how it should be possible you can consent that Elisa should part with the least good quality she hath, rather than that pride and scorn, which addeth an ingredient of fear, to be mixed with the Love of those who profess any affection to her: For my part (said Elisa and laughed) I am so glad to find any one who will commend a fault which I cannot mend in myself, as I cannot sufficiently express my obligation unto Poligenes for it: I assure you Madam, replied he, you need never thank me for a thought which I cannot choose but think: But I beseech you, said Phocilion, What is the motive which prompts you to affect this pride in Elisa, which blemisheth all the rest of her virtues? It is, replied he, because thereby her heart is not easily conquered; and as I am fully persuaded; (speaking in kind of rallary) that it is not my destiny to make that illustrious Conquest, so I am very glad, that there is something in the spirit of Elisa which may hinder others from it as well as myself; and to speak in reason, there is nothing that better becomes any high beauty, than this noble Pride, yet I must needs say, that this humour does not suit handsomely with every one, for there is requisite a thousand good qualities, to produce those pleasing effects which I speak of, and it must be a high Beauty that must set it off, for Beauty only is not enough, but a high spirit and a great heart are essentially requisite; and I am persuaded, that the haughtiness of a fair fool hath such a near resemblance of Pride, and comes so near a kind of foolish idle vanity, as it doth much misbecome them, and renders them insufferable. I know that if this person who hath this loftiness of behaviour, have not also a great and generous heart, she will be bitter and tart, and surely in lieu of being stately, this I do not wish to be in any accomplished person: Sullenness and Stateliness are two different things, the first is Ugly, the other is Majestical, the one a sign of a melancholy Spirit, the other of a great and noble soul: Yes, the stateliness which I speak of is a spark of Divinity, which distinguisheth those who are so from the common herd of people, which makes them feared, and respected of those who love them, and which without the least incivility, forbids too much familiarity with those who are so stately, and which quality I do every day admire in Elisa; and therefore wonder not that I should desire her to part with any other quality then with this noble Pride, which I so much love in her, and which also hath rendered you so good offices: To me, replied Phocilion, For heaven's sake do not offer to persuade me that I am any Debtor unto the haughtiness of Elisa: Indeed you are, replied Poligenes, For can you think, that she being so fair, so amiable, and so much adored as she is, her heart would have been at this time to dispose of, if she had not been as stately and majestical as she is? or if she had been so affable and sweet, as you seem to desire her, she could never have seen so many denied Suitors at her feet, without having pity upon some one of them, insomuch as when you came unto Tire, and courted her acquaintance, you would have found her heart engaged, whereas now you find it free, and so disengaged from any affection, as the most passionate of all her Lovers cannot find in her behaviour the least cause of any jealousy: 'Tis true, replied Phocilion, But on the other side, they cannot find any foundation of hope: Yes, replied Poligenes, very much, since there is no fear that any will be more happy than yourself: But I beseech you (said Elisa, and interrupted them) Wherein does this stateliness you speak of consist? I pray tell me, that I may know how to be more or less lofty, as occasions shall be offered? Is it in the Air of my visage that it appears? or in all my actions in general? Is it in my words? Or in the accent of my voice? Is it in something which I cannot define, replied Poligenes; For truly, you are more civil than many others, who pass for more sweet and affable than they are; you are essentially good, you are ready to do all good offices to your friends with an excellent grace: Also upon some occasions you are pitiful and tender, but with all these you are highminded and stately, as I would have you to be; and to say truly, I think that this brave and noble Pride, hath its source from the root of your heart, and from thence it passeth into your Spirit, into your eyes, into your face, and into all your actions and words: Since so (said Elisa then) I must be as long as I live the very same I am at this present, for I must needs confess unto you, that I would not change my heart for any others: Though your highness of behaviour should make you have no other thought but that, replied Poligenes, yet I should for ever love it; for as I said before, I should not be sorry if others cannot enjoy that thing, which I cannot myself enjoy.  
Phocilion was not yet satisfied with the reasons of Poligenes, but this discourse lasted so long, that night summoned us to leave Eli●a, who doubtless was gladder to see her stateliness commended, than any other Quality, for she heard every one applaud her beauty, her voice, and her Spirit, and sometimes she met with some who found fault with her stateliness, and extremely complained against it. This was the state of things Madam, when the Brother of Poligenes, whom I told you was travelling in Greece, returned unto Tire: He was then about four and twenty years of age, and there being such a difference of age between Poligenes and him, he respected him almost as his Father; and indeed Poligenes took as great a care of Agenor, as if he were his Son; he was therefore extremely glad to see him so handsome, and pleasing every way; and I assure you Madam, a man could not be more handsome than he was; he was not only handsome and of a good garb, but he was also exceeding agile in all the exercises of his body, especially in danceing. Moreover, he had an admirable wit, but it was a merry and diverting wit, which infinitely pleased all companies. Moreover, he was the aptest of all men to make secretsses, to discover those of others, and to hide his own when he would: 'Tis true, this humour lasted not long, nor took him oft; for he had a vanity, which caused that he could not be loved, without desiring it should be known; yet the passions of his soul were very violent, but vanity would not permit them to be strong in his heart; and certainly, if Agenor had not had this fault, he had been much more amiable in the eyes of those he loved than he was: For as for others, except his Rivals, he was the sweetest and most civil of men towards them, his vanity being only confined unto his Gallantries. Agenor being such a one as I have described, he returned to Tyre, whilst Straton, Barce, and Elisa were gone for fifteen days into the Country. In the interim, Poligenes showed his Brother all the Court, who got in it extraordinary reputation, especially among the Ladies. In the mean while, Agenor having a soul naturally disposed unto Gallantry, could not live without a business of that nature; he applied himself unto one of the Queen's women named Lyriope, one both of beauty and merit, but of an envious and revenging spirit, such as would not permit herself to be at rest: Indeed Lyriope looked upon any thing that was advantageous unto any of her companions with a spiteful eye; and I believe she never saw a good face, but she had ill rest all that day: I think also that she wished herself both fair and brown both at once, that she had eyes both black and grey, and indeed to be all that others were, yet be what she herself was also. Lyriope was not only envious at the beauty of others and their Conquests, but at their very clothes also, not enduring any should have more riches, nor better made then herself, without extreme regret: You may then imagine Madam, that a woman of this humour was extremely joyed, that a man whom all the Court most talked of, and of greatest bravery, should apply himself to serve her, and to make choice of her amongst a Court full of beauties; so that fearing lest this Conquest should escape her, she resolved to join her endeavours unto her charms, and retain by some light favours what her beauty had gotten: But Lyriope was mistaken in her reason at this time, for I am persuaded, that if her heart had been harder to conquer, she had kept her conquest longer: However, this gallantry made a great noise in the world; for as soon as it was said that Agenor loved Lyriope, it was also said Lyriope did not hate Agenor; so that when Elisa returned out of the Country nothing else was talked of.  
She was no sooner returned unto Tire, but all the Court came to her, so as Agenor wondered, that he could hardly find a man that day in all his visits, yet it was not long before he knew the reason, for going at night unto the Queen's lodging, he understood by the discourse of the Gallants in the Court, that Elisa was the cause of the solitude he found in every place: Some said she was returned fairer, than when she went away, and that the Country Aire had purified her complexion, others said she was grown taller, others affirmed her to be something less proud, or at least, their joys to see her at Tire again, made her seem more sweet and affable; others who heard her sing, said and swore she had learned some Music of the Nightingales in the Country, maintaining she never sung so well as now.  
Agenor hearing these commendations of Elisa, asked Lyriope whether she deserved them or no: But she, according to her envious humour made a description which out-vied envy itself; she told him, that Elisa's eyes were so great and staring, as would affright him, that her complexion was so high as it was an absolute red, and that she was so arrogant and proud, as that she was even dogged and surely; so that detracting from Elisa all her beauty and good qualities, she made her Picture nothing like her. I chancing to be present at this discourse of Lyriope could not choose but contradict her, and hate her also: I beseech you Sir, said I unto Agenor, do me the favour to suspend your judgement of Elisa, until you have seen her, which shall be ere long, for I am a witness how she chid Poligenes, for not bringing you to her house this day, telling him, that she did not believe, being his friend so much as she was, he would have had a Brother so much accomplished as reports speak you, and not make her acquainted with him. Agenor hearing me say so, did easily apprehend that Lyriope spoke enviously of Elisa's Beauty; for though he was in Love with her, yet he doted not, and though she had touched his heart, yet she had not got it: However, he carried the matter, as if he had most zealously loved her, and therefore he asked her leave in a low voice to see Elisa, which she durst not deny him.  
Agenor having leave to see Elisa, he was no sooner returned home to his Brother where he lodged, but he went unto his Chamber, to see whether he would acquaint him with Elisa's desire of bringing him unto her, as I had told him, but he wondered to see Poligenes not speak a word unto him concerning her; yet none had ever told Agenor that his Brother was in Love, he imputed it unto his oblivion: So as he resolved to acquaint him with what he knew, Poligenes was much surprised at his Brother's discourse; and the truth was, it was not his forgetfulness of what the fair Elisa said unto him, which restrained him from acquainting his Brother with it; but the true reason was, because he was not yet fully resolved whether he should be glad of that acquaintance or no: Yet notwithstanding, since Agenor seemed to be much in Love with Lyriope, he resolved upon it, nor did he well see how he could prevent it; therefore desiring his Brother to excuse his forgetfulness of the honour which Elisa did him, he promised to carry him thither the next morning: But to be a little better assured of the business, he would pump out his thoughts of Lyriope, to see whether it were to be hoped that his passion to her would keep him from any thoughts of Elisa: Brother (said he unto him and sighed) are you not afraid to make the ●a●r Lyriope jealous, by seeming so earnest of Elisa's acquaintance? Since she cannot think me in Love with one I know not, replied Agenor, I had no such apprehensions, not shall I render this visit without he● leave: And indeed Agenor told him upon what terms he was with Lyriope; and after he had caused him to promise fidelity unto the confidence he put 〈◊〉 him, he let him know that Lyriope did willingly permit him to speak of his passion, that she had not forbid him to hope, that he had already several Letters unto her, that indeed she had not returned any answers, but it was only because she durst not trust the messenger, that not a day passed whereon she did not give him an occasion 〈◊〉 see and speak 〈◊〉 her, that she did always acquaint him with the places where the Queen 〈…〉 be, ●o the end he might be there, and that indeed he had some reason ●o think himself not ●a●ed I assure you Brother, replied Poligenes, You have much reason to think the 〈◊〉 you, and I am very glad of it: For indeed (said he craftily) besides that 〈◊〉 is very fair, and the Conquest cannot choose but be very pleasing and 〈◊〉 unto you, you will also satisfy your ambition as well as your Love, since 〈…〉 ta 〈…〉 lie 〈◊〉 is 〈◊〉 more in the Queen's favour then all the world believes: I know some 〈…〉 which I cannot acqu●●nt you with, (said he, though he had none) 〈◊〉 do 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to perswage ●ou unto a careful conservation of what you got, and to cherish the affection of Lyriope. After this, Poligenes thinking himself as secure as he could desire, parted from Agenor, who being to visit a person of such extraordinary merit, of whom such high reports were famed, he ordered his servant the next morning to give him a Suit of clothes which he affected, and which indeed did admirably well become him; for it was neither too plain nor too gaudy, but the colours and trimming suited so well, as it was very handsome to the eye. Agenor, neglecting nothing which might set himself off, with the most advantage, went to Poligenes as soon as it was convenient time to visit, and claimed his promise, which indeed he kept without any repugnancy; imagining that since Lyriope was so kind, he would not be so perfidious to her, as to change for one whose Conquest seemed impossible: So that without further delay he went with Agenor unto Elisa, prucing himself so up that his brother should not look younger than himself; And to speak the truth, the choice was very hard to be made; not but there was a difference between these two brothers almost in every thing, but yet the difference was without any inequality of merit, both of them having the esteem of most accomplished men: The Maxims of Poligenes and Agenor in point of gallantry were very opposite unto each other: For Poligenes said, that one ought never to declare his love openly, until he had some assurance of being beloved: Agenor on the contrary maintained that he ought not to hide the passion of his soul one minute from her that was the cause of it; And indeed Agenor did not speak this out of a bare humour of gallantry, but did ever so express himself: Poligenes, for his part, he would be a close Lover until he had assurance of reciprocal affection; and therefore finding in the spirit of Elisa marks only of esteem, and no disposition unto such an affection as he desired, neither to him nor any other, he silently adored her, though with an unmeasurable passion, hoping still that this respective friendship would at last convert itself into love, maugre her intentions.  
But to return where I was; Poligenes and Agenor were betimes at the house of Straton, when no company but myself was there, so that I only was the Witness of this first interview: Since Elisa was after at the Chamber of Straton then in that of Barce, because of her fantastical humours, it was there where Poligenes presented his Brother▪ Agenor unto the Father and the Daughter, both whom received them with much civility. After the first Compliment, Straton having some business with Poligenes, carried him out of the Chamber, and left Agenor with Elisa and me. This Beauty was that day in such an advantageous habit, as it is no wonder if the L●●ster of her beauty dazzled the eyes of Agenor. Since she had no intentions of going abroad, her dress was as Ladies use when they keep their Chambers; but yet as one who would be seen, and not as one who was sick, her habit was blue trimmed with Silver; her hair was part brarded up behind with Pearls and blue Ribbon, and part hung negligently down upon her neck, on which she wore a Necklace of Diamonds set in Gold enamelled black: Moreover, since Chance would have Agenor see her with some extraordinary delight, she did sit upon a Cushion of Carnation Tinsel; so that this Carnation and this blue did cast such pleasant reflection of colours upon the cheeks of Elisa, that her beauty appeared in full advantage of lustre: so as the light being full in her face, she appeared as she was, fair enough to make an infidel of Agenor, who did sit just opposite to those eyes which had made so many Conquests: We were no sooner sit, but Elisa begun the Discourse: I do assure you Sir, said she unto him, I can hardly pardon Poligenes for the injury he hath done me in making me no sooner acquainted with you, since he hath deprived me of a pleasure which I know not how to recover. It is my part Madam, to complain against him (replied Agenor,) and not yours▪ but though it were so, that the sight of me does not displease, yet since I have the honour to see you now, I know not why you should say Poligenes hath deprived you of a pleasure which you cannot recover. The Reason is (said she and laughed) because I have an extreme desire and delight to hear the discourse of those who have traveled, especially you who are returned from a place of most exquisite Politeness. Provided Madam you will permit me (replied he and smiled) after I have told you what I have seen excellent in Greece, to speak also of what I have found most rare here, I shall promise you to satisfy your curiosity. Perhaps you may think (replied she craftily) that I think you will not take so much pains as to tell you what Beauties there are about the Queen. I mean not of about the Queen, replied he; and when I asked permission to speak of all the Beauties I found to be fair here, I did not intend that this word here should extend itself further than this very Chamber wherein you are. However it be said she, I pray do me the favour to tell me, whether the Ladies are as fair in Greece, as they are famed to be? That beauty Madam, replied he, is certainly most admirable: But if you had been as now you are, when I parted from Ph●nicia, or as young as than you were, if I had then the honour to have seen you, I should not have been guilty of a thousand Injuries which I have done you during my Travels: For truly Madam I must needs ingeniously confess, I have sworn a thousand times unto a thousand Ladies, both at Corinth, Athens, Argos, Thebes, and Sparta, that there was not one in all Phenicia which was comparable unto their Beauties: But to repair the injury I have done, I beseech you Madam give me leave, that as I have told this extreme untruth unto a thousand Greeks, so I may tell you also as often in real truth, that you alone are fairer than all they together. Though what you say were true (replied Elisa rallary) yet I should not be obliged unto you for telling me one thing so often; and to speak truly (added she, and turned towards a great Glass upon her right hand) I need but look once upon myself to confute all you have told me. Oh Madam (said Agenor, and looked in the Glass also) if you will but believe your own eyes, you will believe my words. Whilst they were in this Discourse, and I hearkened unto it, I observed that Poligenes, who was walking in the other end of the Chamber with Straton, gave no great heed unto what he said unto him, but on the contrary listened with a jealous ear unto the talk of Elisa and Agenor, especially when they walked nearest where we were; yet I thought his reason was only a bare curiosity to know whether Agenor was pleased with the Discourse; and I confess I had those thoughts of a Brother which should have been unto a Lover: However, since they did often pass from a serious discourse unto a pleasant, and from a pleasant unto a serious; Elisa chiding him for his extolling her beauty very sharply, and Agenor obstinate in his applauds of it, their discourse was very little of News either of the People or War: But Agenor, according to his maxim, highly extolling Elisa, and not hiding his advantageous thoughts of her, he commended her to the Heavens, and that with much earnestness: So that Elisa, to make him change his discourse, and to testify she knew how Lyriope had a share in his heart; I pray tell me, said she unto unto me, whether Agenor use to commend all those he talks with, with such excess as he doth me? to the end I may know how to take all he says unto me: Since you have seen him with the Queen, you may easily give me this satisfaction; therefore I conjure you to tell me, what he said unto all the Ladies he saw; then she named many of the Ladies unto me, and amongst the rest, Lyriope. For my part Madam, replied I unto her, I never heard him commend any so much as you. How, said she, does he commend me more than he doth Lyriope? Oh Telamis, it cannot be: Yet it is very true, replied Agenor, that I never commended any so much as you. I perceive (answered she) you do not believe I know that you are in love: But Agenor, I have better intelligence than you think I have; and the Report of Lyriope's Conquests did fly into the Country: And I must also tell you (added she and laughed) that for my own glory I was very glad she had made this Conquest before my return, because now I cannot be upbraided for my inability to do it. People newly subjected (replied he and looked upon her) are ofttimes very glad to revolt. Ab Agenor, replied she, I would have no Subjects rebel against their first Masters; And I am persuaded the chains wherewith Lyriope hath captivated you, are so strong, that though you would you cannot break them: however, I think you very bold in telling me that you commend me more than her. I confess Madam, replied he, that you do a little puzzle me; yet I do conceive that without any injury unto Lyriope, I might say as much as I have done; for truly, said he, I am of such an humour, as I no sooner perceive myself to be in love, but I must immediately tell it: Also I conceive, that in saying one loves, one hath made a long speech unto her he says it: nor will I answer that I can commend you long as I have done. This way of commending, replied Elisa, should never be my custom; but Agenor, you have better expressed yourself then I imagined: however I must tell you, that I am very glad you are in love, because I shall be more apt to contract friendship with you. I do know many person's Madam, replied I, who will never contract any friendship with a man in love. If I had any secrets to keep, replied Elisa, I believed should not say as I do: but all the friendship which I desire with Agenor, is only a bare complacency, and a petty kind of exchange of indifferent secrets, which hardly can be termed secrets, which yet help very well to furnish out discourse and for such a friend, it is no matter if he be in love. Oh Madam, replied he, if I be not much mistaken, you are a most dangerous friend. Poligenes hearing these last words, could not choose but draw nearer, and assure his Brother (whilst Straton was talking with one of his men) that he was mistaken in what he said, since Elisa was as good a friend as she was a dangerous Mistress.  
As he spoke these words much company came in, which caused discourse to be more general: However, though first Visits use not to be very long, yet Agenor continued his until night, and he grew as well acquainted with Elisa, as if he had known her all his life: But whe● at night he went to the Queen's Lodgings, he was put to a puzzle how to render an account unto Lyriope of his actions in the afternoon: As soon as she saw him, she observed that he had spruced up himself that day, and that he was finer than on the first days when he designed to please her: not but that he was always very handsome; yet passionate people can spy day at a small cranny, and find a difference betwixt a natural neatness without design, and an extraordinary tricking up, which proceeds from some secret design: So that since Lyriope had not seen Agenor all that day▪ she was extremely desirous to know where he had been: She no sooner saw him, but she began to question him, yet without any discovery of her thoughts, I pray Agenor tell me (said she unto him) how you have spent this day? and how comes it to pass I have not seen you? I have been in a hundred places, and could not meet with any company, replied he, and at last Poligenes having promised Straton to bring me unto his house, would have me go along with him. Well Agenor (said she and blushed) what think you Elisa? You made such an ugly description of her, replied he, that I believe it caused me to think her fair. The fate of this woman (replied this envious person) is very strange; for I am persuaded, that though they say every Nation hath a kind of beauty which is particular to itself; some affecting the fair, others the black, and some the brown, others red; some would have them tall and gross, others little or of a mean stature; some one complexions and features, some others: yet I do believe, that if all men from all parts in the world did see Elisa, they would all consent to commend her beauty. As she was saying this in a low voice unto Agenor, one of those who had been at the house of Straton, came into their company and asked Agenor (not knowing what he had told Lyriope) whether he stayed long with Elisa after he came away? But Agenor had no sooner told him a confident lie, and said he came away immediately after him, but another entered, who had stayed there late, and came away when he did, who asked Agenor, if ever he saw a fairer than Elisa? And to drive him the more upon the Rock of a nonplus, a third came in, who knowing Agenor had never seen Elisa before that day, and having seen him enter so soon after dinner, told him, that he did very well in making his visit so long, and coming so timely to see the sunshine of Elisa's beauty at the height of the day. Lyriope no sooner heard this, but she blushed for very shame, spite, and jealousy, for she plainly understood Agenor went to the house of Straton very timely, and was all the whole afternoon there; so that he told her a lie, when he said he had been in a hundred places and could find no company. Then she sternly fixed her eyes upon his, as if she did upbraid him with it; but he not being ignorant of the power he had over the heart of this woman, did not much trouble himself at it, believing it no Herculean labour to make his peace; And indeed he used such arguments as persuaded her that she was beholding to him for the lie he had told: For, said he (as we understood afterwards) you may well imagine, that though I should fall in love with Elisa, and be an Infidel unto you, yet I could not in so short a time become so deeply engaged, as to make a mystery of a passion which yet had taken no root: But believe me, it was only my complacence unto Poligenes which moved me to so long a visit; and my fear lest you should take it ill that I had been there all the day, moved me to invent and tell this lie: However (added he most craftily) I am very glad that I have discovered a spark of jealousy in your soul, and as oft as I desire to receive any new favour from you, I think it my best course to make a long visit unto Elisa. This is rather the way to lose those which you have already, replied she: Ah Lyriope, said ●e, I beseech you know me a little better; and believe it, Rigours will never for●● me to repentance: 'Tis sweetness only will reclaim me, if ever you think there be any fear of losing me. Lyriope having a soul prepossessed with a violent passion, thought the best way to appease Agenor was to oblige him: And being a woman of more wit than judgement, she received his Reasons as good, thinking that to keep him from turning Apostate, and loving Elisa, her best course was to load him with new favours. As for all these petty trifles which make such a blunder in the world when they are known, she was resolved to grant them all unto Agenor, thinking thereby ind●ssolvably to tie him unto her, to hinder him from loving Elisa, and to oblige him to marry her: But all did not hit, as you shall perceive by the sequel o● the story. In the mean time, since Elisa went much abroad, though Agenor went not to her, yet he saw her every day; and since her composure was such, as the more one looked, the more he liked and admired her; Agenor, who was able to judge who merited admiration, did perceive that admiration grew in his heart every time he saw her; Yet for a while he gave his heart the check, and bad resistance unto the beauty of Elisa; Yet when he began to be glutted with the favours of Lyriope, he began also to yield a little unto the darts of Elisa; the easiness of the one, and the difficulty of the other, did faint his desires of Lyriope, and so kindle them of Elisa; that he could not live and not look upon her: Yet he durst not so soon appear an unfaithful Changeling, and therefore his visits of Elisa unknown unto Lyriope, put him to abundance of trouble. On the other side, Poligen●s who had an observant eye over his Brother, perceived presently that the over-indulgencie of Lyriope did deaden his passion, so that he began extremely to fear he would become his Rival. In the mean time Phocilion, finding every day more virtue in Elisa, became so extremely in Love with her, as he was resolved to do all he possibly could to marry her. Since he was very rich, he doubted not but Straton would approve of his design, but he did not think it fit to acquaint him with it, without the permission of Elisa: He saw that this fair and wise Lady was very civil to him, and that she seemed very much to esteem him, but he saw her so far from any thought of such a particular affection as he desired, and his fears of denial so fainted his soul, that he could not resolve to discover his design. But at last, after several visits, with full intentions of speaking to h●r, and dared not, he took heart, and being one day alone with her, he determined to discover his long concealed thoughts. But being acquainted with her majestical haughtine 〈…〉 he endeavoured to find a way of doing without incensing her.  
After than he had talked a while of things indifferent, he began to speak: Since you have the reputation (said he unto her) of being one of the most generous friends in the world, I desire Madam you would be pleased to do me the honour of affording me some faithful counsel in a business whereon depends all the good fortune, and all the bad fortune of a man, who is very much your servant, and in whose fortune I have a most near concernment. Elisa hearing Phocilion say so, stood a little surprised, for she knew he had much affection to her, though he never told her; yet since she knew him to be very discreet and wise, she did not think he would say any thing that would displease her; therefore considering well with herself for an answer, Methinks, said she unto him, You should rather consult with your own reason for counsel, then ask mine, for I am very unable to give advice unto any: Therefore if you will believe me, said she and laughed, You shall never reval the secret of that person in whom you have such interest, lest two several inconveniences should befall you at once, the one of receiving ill counsel, the other of making me to desire to tell that which you should tell me. As for the last of these, replied Phocilion, I fear it not: Then it seems you think me to be more secret than prudent (replied Elisa) Since you do not fear I will reveal your secret, and conceive that I will not give you bad counsel: However it be, replied he, I beseech you Madam do me the honour to hear me, and hear me without interruption, promising you, that when I have told you the business, to wait for your answer, and to cause the person who is concerned in it to follow the counsel you shall give: Out of mere curiosity, replied she, I will permit you to speak, and therefore tell me what the business is: Before I obey Madam, replied he, I must beseech you not to ask the name of him for whom I ask your counsel, unless you have given such counsel as he desires: How now (said she and interrupted 〈◊〉) Does he desire counsel, and yet will not follow it unless it suit with his inclination? Ah Phocilion, if it be so, I am not fit to give it, for I use to counsel after my own inclination, and not after others: You may do as you please Madam, replied he, However, I beseech you give me leeve to tell you, that there is a man in the world, who after he had lived a long time without the happiness of knowing you, had at last the honour to see you first, the first day you were with the Queen, after the death of the late King: What's the reason Phocilion (said Elisa and interrupted him) that I am brought into the business of him unto which you would have me speak? You shall know it presently Madam, replied ●e, if you will be pleased to hear me without interruption: Be pleased to know then (pursued he) that he of whom I speak, no sooner saw you, but he adored you, and fixed his resolution to adore you as long as he lived: Truly Phocilion, said Elisa, you are a very strange man, for in lieu of consulting about the business of another, you talk of nothing but me: Once more Madam, replied he, I beseech you hear me: Since I have 〈…〉 gauged my word (replied she sharply and blushed) I will do so; but remember also, that you are obliged unto two things, the one to hearken quietly unto all I shall answer you, the other, to make him who desires my counsel to follow it: I know it very well Madam, pursued he, and I will keep my word. To return from whence I digressed, I must tell you Madam, that this man who adored you upon the first sight, and will adore you eternally, not being able to live, unless he can live happily, charged me to ask you what is your pleasure shall become of him? You are already so civil unto him, as he thinks himself much your debtor for it: You have given him many marks of esteem, for which he is eternally obliged: Straton does him the favour to honour him with his friendship, his quality is equal unto yours, his fortunes though much less than you deserve, yet ample enough to make you happy, if riches will do it. And Madam, this man is possessed with such a respective passion, and is so full of reverend devotion to you, that he durst never acquaint you with it: And though he hath some reason to believe, that Stra●on would not deny it if he asked his permission to Court you unto his desires, yet he would never so much as think of it, until first I asked your counsel for him: But Madam, before you give it, be pleased to know, that never man knew how to love more zealously nor respectively, than he you; and you must not be ignorant, that if you advise him to be sadly silent, and to hide the unmeasurable passion of his Soul, you will force him into such an excessive despair, as he will most certainly have recourse unto death. Consider also I beseech you, how the reverence he bears you is so great, that knowing your severity and your scrupulous virtue, he dares not make it known that he dies for the Love of you, without letting you know also the innocence of his intentions: I know well Madam, that there are every day Princes at your feet, and that he for whom I mediate is none: But let all your Princes be as amorous as they can, I am most certain that his soul exceeds all theirs in veneration and Love: Therefore Madam, I beseech you consider seriously what I say concerning him: I do so perfectly know his thoughts of you, that I assure you I do not know my own thoughts better: Speak then Madam I beseech you, will you advise this secret Lover to discover himself unto Straton, or unto yourself? And is it your pleasure I should tell you his name? Since you have told me, replied Elisa, that you will not reveal his name until I advise him as he would have it, I conceive it best not to name him, until I have given my advice, lest not finding suitable unto his humour, it should displease you: Oh Madam, I do most heartily beseech you, said he unto her, to consider well before you cast this unfortunate Lover into the Hell of despair: To testify unto you, replied she, that he could never have chosen a more fit mediator to solicit his business, if it were a business unto which I were capable of persuasion, I will open the very closet of my heart unto you, as unto one of my best friends; and that I know that I am of a harsh disposition naturally, yet I am confident, that at this time I shall not give you any cause of complaint against me, that I do not give such advice unto your friend as he desires: Alas Madam, said Phocilion, if you advise me otherwise, you will doom him unto despair, and it will be a very difficult matter for me not to complain against you if you deny what he desires: Doubtless then you would complain without cause, replied she; But Phocilion, you must not condemn me before you ●ear me: Therefore give me leave to tell you, that I have so great an esteem of you, that I have so good an opinion of your judgement, and that I am so fully persuaded, that you have some esteem of me, as I make no doubt, but that the marriage which you would propose unto me, would be very advantageous, but for the most horrible aversion which I have against Marriage: But Phocilion, let me tell you, that this aversion is so very strong in me, as I should certainly hate the man that should make any Propositions unto my Father, which should cause me to marry him; therefore if you set any value upon my advice, let not him for whom you intercede speak unto Straton. But to show you that I do not speak this, because I have any secret engagement with any other, I do permit him to speak unto my Father, if he can discover unto him, that I do refuse him upon any other reason but what I tell you: But Madam, answered Phocilion, I beseech you take a little longer time of consideration upon a matter of such importance as this; and though you forbid this unhappy Lover to speak unto Straton, yet allow him the liberty sometimes to tell you how he adores you: Hitherto, replied Elisa, you have spoke nothing which I could except against; but Phocilion, these last words are somewhat difficult to be understood by one of my humour: Yet since I have resolved to temper my sharpness, I will excuse and pardon them, upon condition you will do as I bid you in all things: Alas Madam, replied he, Is there any man in the world that is more willing to obey you then I am? Then I conjure you (said she) Cause him for whom you speak, never to speak unto me or my Father concerning his passion, and be you yourself for ever silent, and speak unto me no more of it: But Madam, replied he, What hopes can I then give unto this unfortunate Lover? Hope's never to see me grant unto another that permission which I refuse him, replied she: However Madam, pursued he, give me leave to argue with you a little against this your aversion unto marriage; and I beseech you promise me, that if I convince and convert you, it shall be in favour of this unfortunate Lover: Since I am confident that my heart will never alter, replied she, I am contented, but this Lover you speak of will get no advantage by it. Elisa pronounced these last words in such a manner, and so persuaded Phocilion of her real aversion against marriage, as he was extremely sorry; for knowing her virtue and resolute constancy, he perceived she was not a person that would be engaged into any kind of Gallantry: So that standing in a deep silence, and looking upon Elisa with eyes of sorrow, he fully persuaded her that he loved her, and that this secret Lover, for whom he had solicited, was himself: As good luck was, both for Flisa and Phocilion, I came in and found them both extremely perplexed: Immediately after Lyriope came in also with one of her Cousins, for though she hated Elisa, yet she would visit her; and presently after all Poligenes and Agenor also entered severally. Since divers marriages were then talked of in Tire, and every one told what they heard: but Elisa, who had some secret design in it, began to condemn the opinion of those who say, that there is a necessity a woman should either marry, or else go into a Nunnery, maintaining, that a greater injury could not be offered unto her Sex, then to think, that it must either be a Husband, or high walls which only can preserve their virtue: After this, falling into a general discourse of Marriage, Lyriope who was never of Elisa's opinion, spoke as one who thought that much happiness was to be found in Marriage; and Elisa on the contrary maintained, that all married people were almost unhappy: For truly, said she, take for example one of the most accomplished men in the world, and one of the most perfectest women in all Phenicia, though they do love as well as they can, though they be young, handsome, rich, and think themselves very happy in Marriage, yet I am most infallibly confident, that they will not long continue so: For my part (replied Lyriope) I am not of that belief, but conceive that much happiness may be found by marrying a complete man, who both loves, and is loved: I concur with you, replied Elisa, That they may sometimes esteem themselves happy in Marriage; but I tell you, this happiness is not lasting: For consider a little the qualifications of this condition, her husband must be a very accomplished man, they must reciprocally love each other, he must have an estate suitable to her Quality, he must be neither fantastical, jealous, or covetous. Moreover, she must enter into all his interests, and become ambitious if he be ambitious, entirely subject herself unto his humour, obey him without murmur, even in things most difficult, and never be at liberty or Mistress of herself. She must further be turmoiled with the oeconomical cares and conduct of a great house, be exposed to all the peevish consequences of Marriage, lose perhaps her health and beauty both before she be old, be exposed to be jealous, or suffer her husbands, and at last perhaps have wicked, ill-favoured, and ungrateful children.  
These things Lyriope are ordinary consequences of Marriage, and whosoever looks upon such a Precipice, methinks should be so affrighted, as they should not dare to throw themselves into it: Yes Lyriope, Marriage is a most terrible thing, and all those who venture upon it, are certainly very foolhardy: Though I know very well, said Phocilion, that the fair Lyriope needs no second, yet I beseech her to give me leave to help her in defence of this cause which she maintains: Give me leave I beseech you Madam (pursued he, and looked upon Elisa) to tell you, that in speaking as you do, you are most injurious unto the Gods; for if there be not any two persons in the world who can love happily together, without any of those inconveniences which you do aggravate with so much zeal, it may be said, that the Gods are unjust and imprudent: How can you without extraordinary impiety maintain this against them? I must confess, replied she, that I admire their providence, but neither know it, nor will penetrate into their secrets; yet in the mean time I must maintain, that as they do not accuse the Gods when they blame a man who is Shipwrackt, because he set out to Sea in a Storm, and in a rotten Vessel, so I do not accuse the Gods when I blame those, who knowing the crabbed consequences of Marriage, will yet engage themselves in it.  
Whilst Lyriope, Elisa, and Phocilion were thus in discourse, Agenor was all silence, not daring to enter into the thoughts of Elisa. In the mean time, since he was more in love with her then with Lyriope, he was pitifully perplexed in being between these two, for he would not do any thing which might persuade Elisa he was in love with Lyriope, nor would he make the last of these think he loved her less than he had: So that to have the delight of looking upon Elisa without disobliging Lyriope, he did sit down by her, but his chief reason was, because she did sit opposite to Elisa. Thus sitting on Lyriopes' side, and a little behind her, he enjoyed the sight of Elisa without any notice taken by the envious Lyriope, but otherwise by Poligenes, who easily observed that the cunning Agenor did sit purposely by Lyriope, that he might the better look upon Elisa: As for Phocilion, he was so busied with his own passion, that he never minded others; for since he saw the high virtue of Elisa, he never feared his Rivals; and he was so confidently persuaded that she would not marry, as he never doubted her preferring another before him. Thus the company parted with several apprehensions: Poligenes went out in a fear that his brother would become his Rival, Phocilion was extremely troubled at the insensibility of Elisa, and her aversion to Marriage, Lyriope was infinitely envious that Elisa was fairer than herself, and Agenor was much less in Love with Lyriope, and much more with Elisa, who never minding the turbulencies she had caused in the mind of others, rested in her ordinary tranquillity; yet the procedure of Phocilion did extremely oblige her, and invited her to do what she could, to convert an obsequious Lover into a real friend. But this miracle was impossible to be wrought, he was resolved to content himself with Elisa's commands of silence, yet he offered once to speak unto her again, but she retired herself in such sort, that he imposed upon himself so strict a silence, as he durst not so much as sighed it in secret: 'Tis true, Elisa to comfort him, did make a promise, that if ever she changed her mind, and took a resolution to marry, the change should conduce unto his advantage, yet conjuring him to believe, that she did not think such a time would ever come, she earnestly entreated him to live with her as if he were her brother: And indeed Phocilion (whose most secret thoughts I knew) durst never after this be so bold, as to speak one word of his passion unto Elisa. In the mean time, Lyriope still thinking herself more sure of Agenor's heart, did continue his favours, and gave him a thousand testimonies of a violent passion. In the mean time, all the Court perceived it, and talked broad of her: All the Advisoes of her friends were in vain, for she had a Maxim which was most dangerous for such as would keep their reputations unstained, which was, to believe, that so she were not in any crime, she needed not to fear any reports: But her behaviour coming to the Queen's ear, she received so sharp a check for it, that she began to find her indiscretion: Yet perhaps this had not restrained her, nor changed her behaviour towards Agenor without another reason, which much induced her: For be pleased to know Madam, that Poligenes being persuaded, the faintness of Agenor's love to Lyriope proceeded from the easiness which he found in her Spirit; he thought, that to help it, and to hinder the growth of that passion which he saw began to take root in his heart towards Elisa, his best course was, that Lyriope should mix some security with her complacency towards him: So that bethinking himself how he might compass his design, he pitched upon one of the Queen's women named Phocinde, who was a friend both unto Lyriope and him. Poligenes being full of wit, did so negotiate the matter, that he engaged her to speak unto Lyriope, of whom he seemed to have much esteem; telling her also, though untruly, that he should be very glad if Agenor should Marry her. So falling insensibly into a confidence concerning this adventure, Phocinde told him, how Lyriope found that of late Agenor was grown a little negligent of her, that notwithstanding she did all she could to oblige him, assuring him, that she was never more pliant and affable, nor more ready to do any thing he desired her. If I had any intimate friend, replied Poligenes and laughed, who were in Love with the fair Phocinde, I would be sure not to discover one secret unto her, lest in advantaging Lyriope, I should thereby prejudice my friend; but since Fate hath so ordered it, that I have no intimacy with any of her Lovers, I will discover unto her a weakness in men, which doubtless she is ignorant of it, to the end, that she knowing it, she might advise the fair Lyriope, that if she would rekindle in the heart of my Brother a passion which I wish were violent enough to oblige him to marry her, she then must follow it; I do extremely desire this alliance, (added he, though untruly) and therefore sweet Phocinde, I must acquaint you with the reason why the passion of Agenor doth so saint towards Lyriope: It is, because she is too too sweet unto him; for you must know, that to speak of Love in general, it is never violent, but when the desires are violent; and since it is impossible they should be so, when whatsoever they desire is always easily granted, it must necessarily follow, that to make a passion violent, a Lady must never grant those favours which she is pleased to bestow, but with much entreaty, to the end a great value may be set upon them, and that there be always a long interval between the first desires, and the fruition of the thing desired: It is for Kings (pursued he) to give speedily, and with a freewill; but it is fit Ladies be slow, and to give, as if they almost repent; they must be niggardly in their favours, for otherwise they will be received without delight, they will lose their value, and consequently be received with a cheap acknowledgement: It is with the favours of fair ones, as with a little River which runneth so sweetly and silently between two grassy banks, as those who walk near can hardly perceive it; but on the contrary, if it be full of little rocks which obstructs the passage, than it swells, it twines, it murmurs, it runs after most pleasantly, it diverts those which look upon it, it rouseth them out of that study or at least makes them study with more delight; therefore Phocinde, the favours of Lyriope to Agenor, must not be conferred so easily and so often; for I must tell you again, that men do slight favours easily obtained; and since I must discover the imperfections of my Sex, I must tell you my thought, which is, that it is more easy to revive those flames with an excessive severity extinguished, than those which are choked by too many and continued favours. Since Love is a capricious enemy unto reason, a passion that subjects all Rules and Laws, and since it often infuseth into one and the same heart, both fears and hopes, insolency and respect, joy and sorrow, it would also have a continual miscellany of rigours and favours, bitters and sweets, which succeeding each other, do cause desires to revive in the heart of a Lover, and that love there last, and continue without glutting; therefore Phocinde, to reduce my brother within the compass of his duty, you must advise the fair Lyriope to mingle a little severity sometimes with the favours which she confers upon him: And indeed, besides the general fault of all men, it is his temper in particular which requires such Physic as I speak of; for he being a lover of glory, I am certain he would delight in overcoming any thing that makes resistance; and if she could make him believe, that he is not sure of her heart, he would out of very obstinacy only Court her to be entirely his. But Phocinde, this rigour which I advise Lyriope to make use of to cure the Soul of Agenor, is like certain violent Medecines which the Arabian Physicians have invented, they will almost raise even from very death, if a right quantity be taken, and applied at a right time, but they will also kill immediately, if too much be taken, or too little; it must be therefore Lyriopes' discretion, to apply a right doss of severity, which doubtless will produce its desired effects. All the while Poligenes talked, Phocinde listened with an attentive ear, and was so fully persuaded by his arguments, that she resolved to advise Lyriope as Poligenes desired her: But to the end it might work a better effect, he obliged Phocinde not to tell her friend how they had talked together, which she promised and performed, yet she found it not so easy a matter to persuade her friend, as Poligenes did to persuade her; yet notwithstanding, perceiving that Agenor was every day more negligent, that he often forgot what she said, and that he was nothing joyed when he saw her, that he mused much when he was with her, and was very much altered, she resolved to do that for the reducing of Agenor, which she would not do for the preservation of her reputation: But she not being accustomed unto severity, she did it with the worst grace that ever fair one did, yet at first the matter succeeded very happily; for the first time that Agenor perceived her cold carriage to him, he did very importunately ask her the reason, and perhaps if she had carried the matter handsomely, she had reduced this rebellion Slave; but she having ever more spirit than judgement, was so glad to see the a 〈…〉 e of Phocinde had produced so good effect, did think that the only way to bring Agenor unto reason, was to continue still rigorous; So that following her violent and en 〈…〉 disposition, she did not only seem severe, but fantastical and something worse: Insomuch a Agenor, who already loved Elisa very well, and who was much puzzled to find a handsome pretence for quitting Lyriope, made use of this which she gave him, and b 〈…〉 to see her less and less by degrees, till at last he le●t off seeing her at all. Thus the counsel of Pol 〈…〉 enes' being neither rightly understood, nor well executed, produced an effect quite contrary to his design, for it quenched a passion which he would have kindled, and studied another which he would have quenched: You may easily imagine in what a desperate condition Lyriope was, when she perceived she had lost her Conquest, she broke off with Phocinde, because of the counsel which she gave her, she grew more envious than before, and began so horribly to hate Elisa, with whom she kne● Agenor continually was, that she resolved to take her for the object of her anger and revenge, though she did never voluntarily contribute any thing unto the infidelity of Agenor: For as Elisa did never subject any hearts with any design so to do, so I know of a certainty that she looked upon Agenor as a very pleasing friend, but yet as a very dangerous Lover, and that there was not a man upon earth of whom she was more afraid to be loved then of him: For she being of a most piercing Spirit, did most perfectly know his, who being full of boldness, craft, and vanity, could not love long without prejudice to those he loved, or at least persecuting them a hundred several ways. In the mean time, it was so natural unto Elisa to inspire respect unto all those who came near her, and her stateliness was so faithful a Guardian of her beauty and virtue, that Agenor as bold as he was, durst never attempt to make a serious Declaration of his Love, yet he could not forbear sighing in secret, and suffer a thousand torments, which yet he would not suffer to appear: And he would often say, that those puling languishing lovers, who are continually sighing and lamenting were good for nothing but to trouble those they loved; but that on the contrary, the way to get Love was to please, and the way to please, was to be pleasant and merry; and that since Love is always represented laughing, he concluded that sighs and tears were not so fit for him as joy and divertisements. Also, that since Elisa was of a merry nature, he conceived his best course to be diverting her, without any serious talk of his passion. Likewise, considering her humour, he thought he should never obtain that liberty; therefore his design was, to accustom her insensibly unto a permission of telling by way of rallary that he loved her, conceiving, that since she knew the world, and understood rallary, she would not be offended at a thing of this nature, which he told her laughing, and in the presence of much company, hoping by this way to hide the truth of his passion from the eyes of his brother, whom he suspected to be in Love with Elisa, as well as himself, and whom he would not have thinked that he was his Rival: And indeed Agenor being one day with Elisa in a great company, they began to tell him of his inconstancy to Lyriope (for this imprudent woman was not less scandalised for breaking off with Agenor, as she was for contracting amity with him) and so much the more, because they said that the Queen intended to send her home unto her parents, and was much incensed against her for her ill-carriage of the business. Agenor then seeing them put a hundred questions to him concerning his inconstancy, resolved not to let a day pass without putting his design in practice; so that he put them all off with Feasts, and was wondrous jocand: For my part, said Elisa and laughed, If I were in your case, I should rather say that I never loved Lyriope, and that I only made a show of being so, then to confess as you do, that you are unfaithful, since in cases of Gallantry, inconstancy is as great a crime as cozenage, for to the last of these is only requisite wit, boldness, and invention, but the first proceeds only from weakness: Also I am persuaded (pursued she) it had been less dishonourable for Lyriope, that you never had loved her, then that you should cease loving and quit her. Since my passion was quenched by the rigour of Lyriope, (said he with a dissembling modesty) I am persuaded that my inconstancy is neither dishonourable to her nor myself: Never excuse yourself by the rigour of Lyriope (said Poligenes, who was glad he could accuse him before Elisa) for I am sure, that before she began to be severe, you began to be inconstant, and out of your own lightness left off loving her, before she did contribute any thing to it: 'Tis true, (answered Agenor, and laughed, as if he spoke only in merry rallary) I am forced to confess, that I left loving Lyriope, before she thought of treating me with severity, but yet it was not out of my own lightness good brother: What other reason besides could you have (replied Elisa sharply:) My reason was (replied he, looking upon her, and raiseing his voice that all the company might the better hear him) because you use to make all those inconstant's who look upon you, and because I cannot be with her, and with you too, because I am often weary to see no company about the Queen, whilst all the Gallants of the Court are at your feet adoring you; and because I would do as all others do, that is, see you, hear you, admire you, and to tell you boldly before all this company, that which I am sure not one of your Adorers dares do in secret. Agenor speaking this with that blithness which was his natural way, and which did ver●e well become him, all the company began to laugh, 〈◊〉 Poligenes who blushy: So that Elisa not daring to take that seriously, which so many accomplished persons took as a piece of gallant rallary, she began to laugh as the rest did, yet it wa● after a scorning way, and with a blush: But she answered Agenor as in reason she ought, without any anger, and interpreting the matter as a bare piece of merry wit; and indeed Elisa thinking it to be so: I pray Agenor, said she unto him, make not me an umbrage for your weakness, nor loaden me with the hatred of Lyriope: So you can admit of my love, said he, never care for her hatred, for thanks be to the heavens, I am very well cured: I assure you, replied Elisa, I had rather Lyriope should love me then you, and I fear her hatred more than I do yours: As for my hatred Madam, said he unto her, You are safe; but as for my Love believe it you are not, for since I have made you some expressions of it before so much company, it concerns my honour to go a little farther: But replied she and laughed, as it concerns your honour to go further, so it concerns mine to hinder you; and therefore I conjure you to be silent, unless you will very seriously have me take the part of Lyriope, and chide you extremely for quitting so fair a person: And I pray tell me (said she and laughed still) what assurance can I have in the affection of a perfidious Apostate? The assurance is (replied he) That you will not treat me as she did, and that I hope you will invert the order which she kept with me, for she was sweet at the beginning, and severe in the end, and I hope you will be sweet in the ending, as you are severe in the beginning: Indeed Agenor you are much deceived, said she unto him, I am no Changeling like yourself, that which I am once, the same shall I be as long as I live, and since I am crabbed now, I shall be so for ever: That which you call crabbedness, does so well become you Madam, said Poligenes to her, that you would wrong yourself if you should leave it: Affability and mildness would become her better, replied Agenor: Elisa is so sweet and affable unto her friends, (said I unto Agenor) that I am very glad she is not so unto her Lovers, because if she were, I am persuaded she would not then be so unto me: It is a gladness which you will long enjoy, replied Phocilion: I am much obliged unto you for your good opinion of me, replied she: And so am I to you, said Agenor unto her, for receiving a Declaration of my Love with so much indifferency, as that you are not so much as angry at it: I wonder not, replied Elisa, that Lyriope should be weary of you, for you have been but one quarter of an hour in telling me you are my Lover, and I perceive you do not know what you would have; sometimes you say affability and mildness becomes me, and other times that my anger obligeth you; and therefore all I can say is, that I repent myself of accusing you for inconstancy to Lyriope, and am so far from thinking that you quitted her, as I think that she drives you away for troubling her with your impertinencies, for truly you have wearied me already, though you have only told me the same in jest, which you told her seriously: After this Agenor would have replied, but Elisa addressing her discourse unto me, did alter the subject, and made all the company do the like. In the mean while Phocilion observed a little better than Poligenes, how maugre the mirth of Agenor, that which he seemed to speak in jest, was really true: And also he perceived by the restlessness of Poligenes, that his affection to Elisa was not of the same nature he said it was, so that Phocilion found two Rivals more than ere he thought of, the one of which concealed his passion by discovering it, and the other discovered it unto Elisa, by hiding it, or at least gave her some cause to guests at it. Phocilion yet had not that sadness of soul which use inseparably to follow the discovery of fresh Rivals, for on the one side he feared not Elisa; and on the other side Poligenes, who was subtle, and experimented in matters of gallantry, after a serious observation of his brother, he apprehended him to be desparately in Love with Elisa, yet the light humour of Agenor, and the austere gravity of Elisa eased him of his fears. Agenor also, intending to deceive his brother, went at night unto his Chamber to see him, and began to express his joys at all he had said that afternoon unto Elisa: For said he, I am sure Lyriope will know it, and so I shall be fully revenged on her for her severity to me: Indeed Madam, Agenor did jest it out so well, as he did much puzzle Poligenes, and made him doubt of that which he believed but one quarter of an hour before. In the mean time he continued his way with Elisa, as he had done the day before even before Straton, who took much pleasure in what he said: The presence of Barce did not hinder him, as fantastical as she was; so that Elisa was forced unto a custom of this public Gallantry, and the rather, because she did not believe Agenor was really in Love with her, yet she 〈◊〉 every day moved unto some fits of anger against him, but the j●candr●e of Agenor did 〈…〉 p●●●tie her, she conceived that Agenor▪ aim in it was only to spite L●riope, for what there was much company, Agenor would then be sure to be full of his Courtship, and address himself to her with a thousand pleasant Gallantries: He would then be always next her, he would look seriously upon her, commend her to the heavens, observe her d●●●pently, and do every thing that Love could prompt the most violent and passionate Lover unto: All this he did with a most admirable freedom of Spirit, which made Elisa believe that his heart was not at all engaged. But the rarest part of this story was, that though Agenor was full of a thousand Gallantries when much company was present, yet when they were gone, and he remained alone with her, than he became as silent and timorous as a Sheep, he lost all his confident boldness, he was all serious and sadness, and discoursed with Elisa only of things indifferent: But that which Agenor did with design Elisa should thereby guests at his passion, was it which kept her from knowing it, it not being imagineable, that a Lover speaking without any witnesses unto the person he loved, should not then give her some cause to think he loved her: However Agenor was always with Elisa as much as he could, and spoke to her of his passion, when there was much company, but not a word to her, when they were alone together: But however, this fantastical proceeding of his, procured him a thousand privileges; for since he was full of pleasant discourse, and much delighted Elisa, it moved her to talk more with him then with any other. Moreover, every one did contribute their assistance unto such a piece of gallantry, as afforded such jocand diversion, and to the heartburning of his Rivals, it procured him great familiarity with Elisa, and to be continually with her: Also he so got the love of Straton, as he could not endure he should be a day out of his sight: On the other side, Lyriope knowing of Agenor's procedure, did imagine, that perhaps he did not love Elisa, but that he used this open gallantry as a punishment for her severity, and still loved her in his heart: So that this undiscreet woman practised a hundred unprofitable stratagems to reduce him, which did indeed drive him further off, and which augmented her hatred and fury against Elisa, when she perceived that really she had no share in the heart of Agenor, who went on in his ordinary custom; and he so used Elisa unto his complacential discourse, as she returned answers without any anger. None of his Rivals were jealous, except Poligenes, who could not digest in this divertisement, which passed only for a piece of merry wit. In the mean while, Elisa's scrupulous virtue began to fear that Agenor would tell her that seriously in private, which he in a R●llarie told her publicly, and she was the sooner induced unto this thought, because Poligenes and I coming together to see her, we found Agenor there, who as soon as ever he spied us, began his usual way of Gallantry: This sticking in the stomach of Poligenes, he fell into so deep a study, as Elisa could not choose but chide him, for not hear●ening unto what they said, ask him of what he thought? I think Madam, said he unto her, that I had rather know what you did my Brother the honour to say unto him when Tela●●is and I entered, then to know what Agenor saith now.  
Poligenes had no sooner said so, but Elisa blushed, and then imagined that her fears were not ill grounded, yet she would not take it as in earnest, but on the contrary, she told Poligenes, she was much obliged unto him, for hinting unto her, that she should not suffer Agenor to talk with her in private: Then Madam, replied Agenor, It seems you would have me talk to you of Love perpetually, whereas before I talk unto you of it only in public, and never in private: However, replied Elisa, I will for the future never talk unto you without witnesses: I shall be much beholding to you for it (said he) for when I was alone with you, I was in such fear of you, and respect did impose such a cruel silence upon me, as I never durst tell the thoughts of my heart unto you: Truly, said Elisa and laughed, I do not think that ever Lover returned the like thanks: However it be, replied she, I had rather you should speak unto me of Love in public, then of things indifferent in private. But Madam, I will not insist any longer upon relation of trifles, which are not fully pertinent: Let me tell you only, that Elisa after this, did warily avoid all discourse with Agenor in private: So that when he determined to talk seriously unto her concerning his passion, and to persuade her he was in earnest, he was much puzzled to find out a fit opportunity. In the mean time Phocilion behaved himself towards Elisa, in such a respective and obliging manner, that in very acknowledgement of it, she thought herself much engaged to him, and permitted him once to tell her, that the Lover of whom he spoke, and himself, were one and the same person, yet he could draw no further advantage from this favour, but that she promised him again, if ever she altered her resolution, and did intend to marry, it should be in favour with him, but withal she told him at the same time, that she believed this time would never come, and therefore conjured him to content himself with being in the number of her friends. I shall not spend any time Madam in telling you how many Slaves the fair eyes of Elisa did captivate, for the number is so great as it is incredible, all whom she treated with extreme rigour; but I will apply myself principally unto those whose persons and humours I have already described.  
To prosecute therefore my intention, give me leave to tell you then, that Agenor seeing the more he told Elisa in public, he was in Love with her, the less she believed him; he resolved therefore upon a secret way of declaring it unto her, yet he did consider this design as the most dangerous that he could attempt: But since he could not endure to love, and not be beloved, he resolved to put it unto the hazard. In the mean time, Elisa according all occasions of privacy with him, since the discourse of Poligenes he was many days before he could meet with his desired opportunity, yet he was the fittest man in the world, to put the most difficult matters into execution, and to close with any occasions which offered themselves; for besides his being very cunning, diligent, and ingenuous, he had many servants and creatures who knew very well how to discover whatsoever he desired to know, and who would follow his directions most exactly: Moreover, he was Master of a most insinuating and flattering affability, which joined unto his liberal disposition, did render an absolute Master of the Domestiques in the houses, when he had any interest of Gallantry, and by this means he could easily know when much company was with Elisa, and when none: He was so faithfully advertised, as he knew she had commanded one morning, that they should say she was not within: So that making use of the familiarity which he had with Straton, he went to dine with him: After Dinner he would conduct Elisa unto her Chamber, who desiring to see ●o body, would neither stay in the Chamber of Straton, nor Barce's: She would also have hindered Agenor from carrying her unto her Chamber, but her Father, who loved Agenor very well, desired her to accept of the civility of him who was his friend, so that she was forced to permit him. When he was at the door, where she believed he would have left her, he seemed as if he had pleasant matter to impart unto her, so that he being accustomed to tell such things, she entreated him to enter: After which, Agenor inventing some kind of odd story or other, for a pretence of beginning his discourse with her, she thought that he had no farther design, but to tell this adventure aloud. But after he had told it, and she desired him to retire, Agenor began his intended Speech. Madam (said he unto her in a low voice, lest he should be heard by two women who were in the Chamber) I am not yet at the end of my business, for the truth is Madam, I must acquaint you with a business which I fear will surprise you, though it ought not to do so, and which is likely to vex you, though also it ought not: For ought I see, replied Elisa, You think me to be very unjust, since you say I shall be surprised and angered at that which I ought not to be; however, I desire to know what thing this is? It is Madam (said he unto her) That there is a man in the world who extremely laments that you should not know how he adores you, though he has told you of it a hundred thousand times. How's this (replied Elisa, and blushed for anger, not thinking Agenor did speak of himself) Is there any man in the world who was so insolent, as to tell he loved me? I knew Madam (replied Agenor faintly) that you could not endure to hear me without choler: Yet I would have you tell me (replied Elisa innocently) wh● this man is that has lost either 〈◊〉 reason or memory, or both: I will Madam, replied he, but it shall be 〈◊〉 a 〈◊〉 you will not banish me, though I should tell you such things as shall 〈…〉 for unless you promise me this very solemnly, you shall never know it: It is 〈…〉, replied she, to condemn the innocent with the culpable; but since you w●ll 〈…〉 my equity, I will promise not to banis 〈…〉 though you tell who this 〈…〉 a hundred thousand times told me that which 〈…〉 never told me so much at once: But I pray tell me pursued she 〈…〉 was he born, and what 〈◊〉 his 〈◊〉? The man of whom I speak (replied this 〈◊〉 Lover) was born in 〈◊〉 and hi●●ame is Agenor: Agenor (replied 〈…〉, not believing he 〈…〉) he is so accustomed to 〈◊〉 foolishly, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 there is no heed to be taken 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 says, and though I know him better th' 〈…〉, yet I will not be always 〈…〉 by him. 〈…〉, said ●e, I wish to 〈…〉 you did know me, for is it possible you should think, that when I told you before 〈…〉 world I loved you, I told you so only, because that kind of discourse seemed a diversion? Indeed I did so, answered Elisa, and I think so still, 〈◊〉 shall do as long as I 〈◊〉, and shall never think otherwise; also I think it is advan 〈…〉 that I should do so: Then I have no other business in this world, but to prepare my 〈◊〉 for death, replied Agenor: Was there ever such a 〈◊〉 accident as this? Can I not persuade you that I love you, only because I have told you so too oft and too publicly? I pray Agenor (replied Elisa, still thinking he jested) do not inveigh so against my incredulity; and be most confident that if I did believe you, you should not talk thus long with me.  
It is not perhaps so easy a matter as you think, said he, to impose silence upon a desperate Lover, and such a Lover as is accustomed every day to say he loves you, without any secret confinement of his passion. However it be, said Elisa, I declare unto you, that I cannot endure this kind of Gallantry when none is present: rallary suits best with a tumult, and is fittest for a general Conversation, not for a private: Those who jest should have many laughers standing by them; they lose the pleasure of their conceits when only a single person hears it; and certainly when two only talk together, they ought to be more serious. I do protest Madam, replied he, I did never in my life speak a truth more seriously than this, when I said in rallary that I loved you, and whatsoever I said did really proceed from the very thoughts of my heart. Take heed (said Elisa and interrupted him) you do not give me cause to think you are serious, for since your company is very pleasant, I should be very sorry to banish you. It is not in your power to do it, replied he, for I engaged you by Oath to the contrary. No, no (said Elisa and laughed) do not think me so simple as to believe you. I wonder Madam, replied he, you should not believe me: Though I had never told you that I loved you, yet methinks my assiduous visits only should have persuaded you of it. If you had never told me, replied she, I should sooner and more easily have believed you, and you perhaps have been more happy in your desires. Alas Madam, replied he, if I should not love you, what should I do with that passionate Soul which the Gods did give me when they gave me life? How is it possible a heart so easy to be inflamed as mine is, should know you and not love you, especially knowing you so perfectly as I do? For truly Madam, I must needs tell you, that there is not one of my Rivals who knows the transcendenc 〈…〉 of your merits so well as I do: Since it is my whole study and care to observe you, I may boast that I know better than they how superlative your beauty is above others, and how your merit transcends all of your sex and time: And since so Madam, how can you conceive it possible I should not love you? Let me tell you once more Agenor (said Elisa and interrupted him) that I cannot endure this rallary unless it be before much company; nor can I imagine, a man really in love can in a jest tell it to the person whom he loves, before a hundred several persons. Alas Madam, replied he, if you would permit me to tell it you in private, I should never have sought unto this weak remedy of my misery; but since I know you to be austere even unto Cruelty it self, I thought it best to deceive you and my Rivals, and to make use of this invention until I had rendered you some such service as might in reason hope for a pardon of my rashness in daring to adore you. Elisa hearing this, was much at a stand, for on the one side she had some reason to believe that he had a mind to deceive her, and on the other side she feared there was some truth in his expressions, since he seemed to spea● very seriously: so that choosing rather to incline unto severity, then to give him any reason o● belief that she was less austere than usual, she was resolved to afford him no hopes, therefore making all the austerity of her Soul to appear in her eyes, in her aspect, and in her language, this Lover, as stout and bold as he was, found himself put to pitiful perplexity. Leave off Agenor (said she unto him) leave off speaking thus as you do, unless you will lose my esteem for ever, either under the notion of a Friend or of a Lover: if the last of these, I ought not to suffer you after all this impudent boldness; if the first, yet ought I to break off with you, since you have so little complacence as at my desire not to ●eave off that rallary which I endure in public, lest I should seem fantastical, but which I abhor in private. Agenor, who was acquainted with Elisa's humours very well, perceived by the tone of her voice, that if 〈◊〉 obstinately continued his telling her seriously ●e loved her, that he should be banished▪ therefore he durst not do it: so that fearing to render himself more miserable by 〈◊〉, to p●●vent it, he took up another Resolution, which was to conquer himself, to 〈◊〉 up 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 melancholy in the cabinet of 〈◊〉 heart, and to put on a face 〈…〉 beginning to speak in that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which he ●●ed in his rallary: Truly 〈…〉, said he unto her, I am now arrived at that Point which I proposed unto my 〈…〉 ave made you angry: but for all that (pursued he and laughed) never think 〈…〉 to appease you I will go and say I do not love you, for that's a little too corpse to 〈◊〉 a Lady, especially a Lady so superlatively fair as 〈…〉; such words as these 〈…〉 come out of my mouth: be contented I assure you, that I am what I ought to be unto you, that I see how you receive Declarations of Love from others, and that I may know whether the friendship you are pleased to honour me with, be strong enough to let me tell you what others do: But upon second and more serious thoughts, and since I perceive I have no particular privilege above others, I will begin to behave myself as I did before, that is, to speak upon matters of Love unto you in public, and of things indifferent in private.  
Agenor having quickest and most nimble wit of any man alive, he said this unto Elisa in such a manner, as almost persuaded her, that it was only one of his old humours of rallary, or such a pleasant trick as one knows not how to be angry at; so that she being in a kind of confusion betwixt mirth and anger, she began to laugh with Agenor for company, yet grumbled at the fallacy which he put upon her, as if she were not altogether deceived, and as if the anger she had expressed was not real, saying she never thought him to be in earnest: However, after much bandying betwixt them, Elisa drove Agenor away from her, believing indeed that it was as he had told her; yet sometimes she would think herself only neutral and indifferent towards him, but never thought him possessed with any violent passion to her, imagining, (if it be permitted to say so) that his soul was only possessed with an amorous friendship: As for Agenor, he went from Elisa in mighty pelt: Have not I (said he to himself, as he told me afterwards) spoken of Love unto Elisa, more than ever any did since Cupid made any lovers, and can it be that Elisa should not know I love her? But why was I so simple, since I had spoke seriously enough to make her angry, as to endeavour the appeasing of her, rather than the persuading her of a truth which she must know? Yet what would that her knowledge have availed me, if upon it she would both banish and hate me? What should I do? said he, To what purpose is it to tell in public that I love her, since thereby I shall not be believed when I tell her it in private? And to what purpose is it to make her believe it, if it be her resolution to love no body? Yet I must not deprive myself of the pleasure which I take in telling her that, which none but myself dare tell her: Who knows, but by continuing in this course, I may in the end be so happy, as that she will tell herself in secret, that which I dare only tell her in public, and make her know the truth without being angry? As austere as she is, her heart perhaps is nor so insensible as she thinks it; for since it can be tender in point of friendship, it is not impossible but it may become so in point of Love. These Madam were the reasonings of Agenor, who indeed carried the business towards Elisa as formerly he did.  
In the mean time Poligenes observing by a hundred of his brother's actions, that certainly he was in Love with Elisa, resolved to impede the progress of this passion, not imagining it to be yet grown unto a height of violence, nor doubting but that Agenor's obligations to him, and the respect which he both owned and used to pay, would make him cease his pretensions, as soon as he should acquaint him that he himself loved Elisa: So that by this means Poligenes resolved to discover unto one of his Rivals that he loved Elisa, before he had discovered it unto herself; but to transact more surely, and that at the same time, he was negotiating with Agenor to cast off Elisa, he might also oblige Elisa to cast off Agenor, he resolved to have discourse with her unto this effect I shall presently acquaint you with; but since he was resolved to begin with Agenor, he sought out for a fit opportunity of talking with him, which he could not meet with until the next morning, for of late they did not lodge together. To this end, he engaged him to a solitary walk which is in T●re, and which certainly is one of the most pleasant in the world: For be pleased to know Madam, that Tyre being an Isle separated from the Continent only by a little distance, the banks opposite to this stately Town make a most pleasant prospect unto the place where Poligenes carried Agenor.  
But since it is something necessary that I describe unto you the place where they walked, in order to your better understanding of the passage, let me tell you, that on the East side of the further part of the Town, which hath no other walls in that place, than what Nature fortified by impossible access, where the R 〈…〉 s make a long Terrace of above five hundred paces, upon which eight or ten persons may walk a breast, there being upon the left side of this rocky walk which riseth and falls sometimes more, sometimes less, several trots extremely pleasant and cool, where weary walkers may rest themselves, if the S●● or 〈◊〉 annoy them. On the other side, is the Sea, which dashing sometimes to the very 〈◊〉 of this natural Terrace (as I may term it) and making a noise mixed both of terror and delight, doth pleasingly entertain those who walk there alone. Moreover, the sight of that opposite shore of which I spoke before, adds much pleasure to the place; for Madam, since there is not one rich Inhabitant of Tire, who hath not some house there, it appears full of magnificent Structures and pleasant Gardens. Also the Port full of Ships and Galleys, makes the most pleasant prospect in the world, together with the sight of the main Sea at the end of this Terrace walk, where the eye hath nothing to look upon but Ships which go and come to Tyre, and several Boats of Fishers in many places, especially towards the evening, which was the time when Poligenes brought Agenor to this lovely place.  
But before I tell you of their being there, be pleased to know Madam, that Phocilion whose passion was as respectful as violent, having then no confident of his passion, did much delight in solitary contemplation, when he could not be with Elisa: So that having passed over almost all the day, and lodging near this pleasant walk, he went thither, sending away all his men, and resolved to stay there very late. When he was at the end of this long Tarrass, as he turned back, he spied afar off Poligenes and Agenor, who taking no notice of him, were taking earnestly to each other. Phocilion having no mind to interrupt either them or himself, went into one of those pleasant Grots of which I spoke before, intending to let them pass by, and to go out when they were at a distance from him; but to the end he might not be perceived by them, chance inviting into a Grot that had many crannies and convavities one within another, he passed from the first into the second. In the mean time, just as he entered, there chanced to fall one of those sudden Summer showers of rain, which unexpectedly use to surprise, and cannot be foreseen: This caused Poligenes and Agenor to look out for shelter, and to enter hastily into the same Grot where Phocilion was: But since their design was only to avoid the rain, they took up with the first, and never looked into the second, out of which Phocilion had come into their company, if he had not heard Poligenes and Agenor name Elisa: So that since it was impossible, not to be curious of knowing what these two men, whom he suspected to be his Rivals, did speak of the person whom he loved, he stood still in the place where he was unperceived, and where he might hear all they said, the hollowness of the second Grot easily receiving the sound of their voices. They were no sooner set, but Phocilion with a listening ear, heard Poligenes begin to speak: I see very well (said he unto his Brother) that you were desirous to know, why I talked yesterday unto you so much concerning Elisa, and why I am so very desirous to know what you think of her beauty, of her wit, and all the rest of her charms, and thinking that perhaps you did not answer me sincerely, I will acquaint you with the true reason which moved me to ask you what your thoughts of her were; I know very well, that you are very deeply engaged in Love to her, if you be at all, but fearing you should too much entangle yourself in a business which can never be effected, I thought now to testify unto you, how dear your tranquillity is unto me, and what confidence I have in your discretion: Know therefore Agenor, said he unto him) that I have loved Elisa even from her very Cradle: Do you love Elisa, (replied Agenor with as much astonishment in his countenance, as if he had never suspected any thing:) Yes Brother (replied Poligenes) I do love her, and love her in that height, as it is impossible for any to love her more; therefore perceiving you apt to engage yourself my Rival, I had a desire to prevent it, by trusting you with my secret, which is, that though Elisa be all virtue, even in the abstract, yet I believe if her austeri 〈…〉 ever suffer any to adore her, it must be myself who must enjoy that happiness: Since I have continually seen her ever since she saw the light, and since my Love of her began to be known unto her ever since she could know herself, my passion hath not made such a noise in the world, as the passions of all the rest of her Lovers have done; and indeed you may pe 〈…〉 e, that I am entertained with more familiarity than they, that the never is shy in talking privately with me, and that she seems much my friend unto those who do not know I am her Lover; therefore Agenor make use of this advice which ●ow I give you, and think, that I do not give it out of jealousy, but only to the end you should not lose your time which ought to be most precious unto you: For truly, said he and smiled, you are just now at an age fittest to make Conquests: If I had not loved you dearly, I should have let you run on in your error, as all the Court doth, and should have taken delight in seeing how you de 〈…〉 d yourself like all the rest of my Rivals, but it 〈…〉 y love to you that would not suffer it.  
Whilst Poligenes was talking thus without any interruption, Agenor was consulting with himself what resolution to take, and being 〈◊〉 of b 〈…〉 ty than Poligenes, he knew very well, that what he said was only to stave him off from Elisa: So that he resolved upon a course as bold as wicked, and answered unto Poligenes in these terms, whilst Phocilion unperceived, did hearken both with wonder and attention: Brother (said Agenor unto Poligenes) I am very unhappy, in that you did me not the honour to acquaint me with your love to Elisa, at that time when you advised me to preserve that affection which Lyriope seemed to have towards me, for then the respect and duty which I owed you, might easily have quenched those sparks of Love to Elisa in me, which now are grown to a flame. Since I had then no suspicion of your passion to her, I must confess, my soul is so wholly devoted to her, that it is absolutely impossible for me to disengage it; Not but that if I were fully persuaded (added he most craftily) you were more in her favour than I, and that she would make you happy, than I would resolve to make myself miserable, I would then voluntarily exile myself, and yield Elisa unto you: But Poligenes (pursued he) I am most confident she deludes you, and that you are not in such favour with her as you think you are, and that you have a Rival above you in her thoughts: For indeed by your own confession Elisa knows you love her, and takes it very well: Do you count that nothing (replied Poligenes) and do think it is not a greater favour to be suffered by the most austere person in the world, than all the beauties in Phenicia can confer? I do indeed believe (replied Agenor faintly) that you have some reason to take it as a favour, but I believe also, that the Lover of whom I speak, has reason to think himself more in Elisa's favour than you are. I wonder (replied Poligenes sharply) that if there were any such thing, you have not staved off such a Rival from Elisa; for believe it, I, who seem not so violent as you are, if I knew any so happy, as you would make me believe there is, I would not let him continue long so: I am very sorry Brother (replied Agenor, and assuming a most serious countenance) That I must needs discover a secret to you, which I resolved never to impart unto any, but the condition wherein I find your soul, and mine for your sake, moves me to hazard all the happiness of my life, rather than fail in point of friendship: Hear me then I conjure you, and if it be possible for you to be just your own cause, I am most confident you will condemn yourself, and confess that I am not able to yield Elisa unto you. At these words Poligenes blushed, and Phocilion in his Grot had such turbulent pangs of soul, that he could not choose but make a noise as he was shifting place, to the end he might hear the better: But they were so attended upon their discourse, as they took no notice of it, so that Agenor proceeded: I know very well (said he unto Poligenes) that I shall make you extremely sad, and my joys of being more in Elisa's favour then any whosoever, is excessive. Alas, Agenor, said Poligenes, and interrupted him, Your green experience deludes you, may be you think, that because Elisa was delighted a little with your public Gallantry, therefore she loves you more than any other: But believe it Agenor, believe it confidently, that the hearts of those who are persuaded unto love, are never moved by public talk before so much company: However it be, said Agenor, I have told her that in private, which you never did, and I am sure I never expressed one passionate word before you and others, but I expressed the same when I have been alone with her: But I pray Brother, without further moving me to betray Elisa's secrets, why do you not make some reflection upon things past, and from them draw infallible proofs of my happiness? Have you not seen me slight Lyriope, who loadened me with favours, and that Elisa did burden me with the weight of her Chains? Lyriope was fair, she loved me, and I did not hate her: Can you think that because Elisa is fairer than Lyriope, that I would quit her who favoured me, to take one that was rigorous? No, no, Poligenes, I am not of that composition, hopes is always as much in my heart as Love is, and I cannot tell whether or no it sometimes precedes it; believe it I should never have left Lyriope, if I had not some cause to believe Elisa would be favourable to me; I know that my way of carriage to her hath been something extraordinary, but I know also that byways are often the shortest: Yet I cannot believe, replied Poligenes, that the way which you have taken, will ever lead you to the heart of Elisa, nor that you have found out this blind way, which so many men have only sought for in vain: I could easily let you run on in your error, replied Agenor, but since it is advantageous unto my Love, that you be undeceived, I will acquaint you upon what terms I am with Elisa.  
Then began Agenor to tell a thousand confident lies to Poligenes, assuring him, that he held a most intimate correspondency with Elisa, that they two had agreed upon a thousand things, which he repeated one after another; that she took in serious earnest all that he seemed to speak in rallary, and that when they were in private together she would tell him all that the rest of her Lovers said unto her.  
If it be so (said Poligenes to try whether Agenor spoke truth) you know in what terms I expressed my passion unto her. Agenor now was put to a n n-plus; yet remembering he had heard his Brother say that he would never discover his Love until he was almost sure of being loved, he imagined (whatsoever he said to the contrary) that he had never openly declared himself unto Elisa: therefore without any demur to his Question; As for you, said he unto him, I must needs confess that Elisa never told me you spoke unto her of your Love: Perhaps the reason why she would not tell me was because I being your Brother, she would not mock at your passion as she did at the rest of her Lovers: but certainly, she ranked you only in the Catalogue of her Friends when she spoke unto me; and therefore I never suspected you to be in love with her, and consequently I am innocently engaged to be your Rival; but so far engaged that I cannot make a retreat. Poligenes hearing Agenor say so, made no question but he said truly: for since he knew very well that he never told Elisa how he loved her, the concordance of Agenor's talk with this truth, moved him to believe all that he said both before and after: But since Jealousy made him invent a way now to pick out some advantage by his knowledge of all the passages between Elisa and Agenor, he confined his anger and his sorrows unto the closet of his own breast, and beginning to speak; Go on you happy Lover (said he unto him) and acquaint me with all your good fortune, that by quashing all my hopes, I may not disturb your felicity. But is it true (said he unto him suddenly) that this austere woman, who has slighted so many Princes and Kings, can so far suffer her heart to be captivated as to tell you that he loves you? I dare not say positively that she did, replied he. But is it possible, replied Poligenes, that she should tell you of all those who anored her? I assure you, replied he, that since the late King unto Crysiles, I know all passages. Yet Phocilion, answered Poligenes, seems to be more in her favour, then to be comprised in that rallary which she useth to all her Lovers: Yet he is not, replied Agenor, but is more mocked at than others. Phocilion at these words thought out of a rapture of sorrow to come out of the place where he stood concealed; but his desire of hearing more, though what he had already heard was nothing pleasant, restrained him: yet he heard not much more which did directly concern himself, for Poligenes passing from one discourse unto another, talked unto Agenor with extreme dissimulation. I could never have believed, said he unto him, that one of my Rivals should be happy, and I not horridly hate him; yet since I know very well that the choice which Elisa hath made is just, I will condemn myself: But since it is impossible I should so suddenly fall from Love unto lue-warm indifferency; and since I had need to know whether Elisa confers any fresh favours before I quit all pretensions to her; I conjure you to acquaint me with all that she confers upon you, and not to think it strange, if in waiting till you receive such as shall stifle my Love, I continuing seeing her. Agenor, very glad of this Proposition which Poligenes made, told him of a thousand imaginary favours, and assured him, that he would give him a Diurnal of the happy Progress of his Passion; ask a thousand pardons, and professing as many sorrows for being an irremovable obstacle unto his good fortune.  
After which, these two Rivals seeing the shower was past, went out of the Grot, and walked to the end of the pleasant Tarrass, still talking of Elisa. As for Phocilion, he was so astonished at what he heard, as that he thought to stay and die in the Grot; but at last he went out, and taking away quite contrary to that of his Rivals, he went with all haste home, not knowing any reason why he should be so hasty. He was no sooner there, but tells his servants he would not sup, he shut himself in his Chamber, musing so profoundly upon this cruel adventure, as he was not Master of his own thoughts. Is it possible, said he to himself, that Elisa, whose virtues seemed always unto me more admirable than her beauty, whose austerity seemed invincible, who seemed to affect glory with so much zeal, that she should have any private engagements both with Poligenes and Agenor? all this at the same time when she assured me, that if hereafter she ever inclined to marry, it should be unto me? Certainly I mistook them: yet all these cruel words between Poligenes and Agenor were so distinctly pronounced, and are so riveted in my memory, as I have not lost the least syllable. It is too true (added this desperate Lover) Elisa has but a seeming virtue: her austerity is but an unbrage to deceive those who think they know her best: and that Soul which I thought to be far above all the imbecilities of her sex, is capable of the greatest follies, which is, to love many at once. Is it possible (cried he) that the proud Elisa should scoff at the poor Phocilion, and sacrifice unto the happiness of Agenor? and could I hear it from the mouth of two Rivals whom I thought worse treated than myself, and live? If I can endure this, I shall merit my misfortune: But I must either die for grief, or else I must kill one of my Rivals, or he kill me. Did ever such a disastrous Fate hang over the head of any Lover? I thought I had loved an insensible woman, who by her insensibility and austerity together overwhelmed me with jealousy; or being out of hope myself, I thought none of my Rivals were happier than myself was: yet I find myself in least favour of them all. But who knows (said he and interrupted himself) whether all this be true? Ah no, no, alas, alas, it is too too true: were he only one Rival who boasted of her favours, I should think he had belched out some horrid lie; but there is no likelihood that Poligenes and Agenor both should be cheats, especially being Brothers: Let it then be most certainly concluded, that there is no assurance in any, since not in Elisa. I have not so much consolation in my misery, as that can in reason call her Perfidious, since she never promised me her affection; only assured me, that if she did alter her resolution of never marrying, than it should be in my advantage: yet it seems she preserves her liberty only to engage herself unto two at once: But O Heavens! am I not unjust in speaking this of Elisa? Can Elisa love any, and not Phocilion? Can she suffer others to speak of Love, and impose eternal silence upon me? Alas Elisa, said he and sighed, since your heart can admit of division, why had not I a part? But what do I say (said miserable Phocilion:) No, no, Elisa, I will have no shares in your affection: I had rather a hundred times you kept yourself neutral, and that you mocked at me and all my Rivals, then to enjoy a moiety only of your heart. I had rather Elisa be hated by you, then to be loved with another: Take heed Elisa, lest this divided affection should purchase you none at all: As for me, who have entirely given you my heart, I cannot be contented with a half. However, unjust and ungrateful Elisa, I have this satisfaction, that I am revenged of you even by those whom you preferred before me, for they talk of favours conferred upon them without any rapture of Joy, and without any discretion: They talk of these favours with delight, only because it suits with their vanity; and I doubt not they will ere long be blabbing to the world those things which they talked in private. Alas Elisa, what an ill choice have you made if you desire to have secret Lovers? But to say truth, she who can favour two at once, never thinks upon any discretion which they ought to use. ay, Heavens knew, never had any favour to conceal; but when you did at any time look upon me without scorn, I did conceal it almost from myself; Yet Elisa, you prefer two men who love you only out or vanity, and who love you more for their own sakes than yours: If I had but one happy Rival to deal withal, I might hope that after I had defeated him, I myself might be your Favourite: but that Elisa should have two Favourites, this opens a door for all my Rivals, and renders my happiness impossible, since I cannot endure to be in a divided heart: But since it is granted, that Elisa is not the same she was thought to be, ought I in reason to continue the same I was to her? should I adore her that is not worthy of any adoration? or aught I to love her who loves many? or at lest who tampers so with two of my Rivals, as if she did love them: But on the other side, How should I not love Elisa? Elisa, who is Beauty in the abstract; Elisa, whose charms are inevitable; Elisa, who has my heart in her hands; Elisa, whom only I find fair; and Elisa, whom only indeed I can love. Go on then Phocilion (said he, and reprehended himself) hate thy Rivals and not Elisa; pity only her weakness, and be revenged on them for her injustice, since thy respects will not suffer thee to do it upon her.  
These Madam were the ravelled thoughts of Phocil●on all that night, not being able to resolve upon what course to take. In the mean time, be pleased to know, that Poligenes and Agenor, after they came out of the Grot, continued their walk, as I told you, and still talked of Elisa: And since Poligenes knew that he never told Elisa he was in love with her, nor had any hopes of being loved, he took another course to defeat Agenor, in feigning still to be in Elisa's favour. Since it is the will of Fate (said he unto his Brother with as much seeming ingenuity as he had subtlety in his heart) that we must be Rivals, and Rivals both in favour: in lien of disputing who shall yield up Elisa unto the other, let us both equally forsake her, since she is almost equally perfidious to us both, and thus by a generous disdain, and surmounting our passions preserve our friendship: and for a full revenge upon her, let us forsake her whole Sex in general: Let us look upon all Beauties only as bare ornaments of the Universe, without any doting upon them, but with the same freedom of spirit we use to look upon fair flowers in meadows, or upon blossoms of trees, or buds, or fountains, or such like: Why should we lose our rest and reason? Gallantry is confessedly a delectable thing, but a violent passion is mere folly: Let us therefore Agenor quit this unjust woman, who cannot content herself neither with your love nor mine, for what she does to us, she does the same to all our Rivals: Let us not omit any thing that may blunt the edge and beauty of her charms: My dearest Brother (said Agenor craftily) your expressions do infinitely joy me, but since you are able to quit Elisa out of jealousy, spite, and reason, doubtless you can also quit me out of pity, generosity, and affection: No, no, replied Poligenes, deceive not yourself, I am able to quit Elisa if you can, but I cannot forsake her unless you can also. As good hap was, some company came, and broke off their discourse; for considering the disposition of their souls, it was to be feared that perhaps they would have quarrelled, if none had come to them. In the mean time, Poligenes and Agenor parted with different thoughts, for Poligenes went away extremely jealous, but so did not Agenor, for he did not give any credit to his brother's words, neither did he fear that Poligenes would tell Elisa how he bragged of being in her favour; for knowing that it was not so, and that he never had so much as a favourable word from her, as her Lover, he imagined that Elisa would never accuse him of any such invention; but that she would rather think it the device of Poligenes to put him out of her favour.  
Thus was he extremely joyed at his finding some reason for not yielding Elisa unto his Brother, and at his making him jealous, hoping that very spite would make him forsake Elisa, yet was he not sure as he imagined; for Poligenes was no sooner up, but he went unto the house of Straton, and to the end he might have the opportunity of speaking with Elisa without any witness, he made choice of the morning; and for a better pretence, he told Straton, that some Ladies in the Country had desired him to send them some Jewels, and since Elisa was known to have excellent judgement in such things, he desired Straton that he might show them unto her in her Chamber, showing him also which he brought on purpose some Diamonds, saying it was to let his Daughter see them. Straton no sooner heard this, but he sent to know whether his Daughter were awake, and hearing she was dressed, he carried Poligenes to her Chamber door, and having some business, left Poligenes with Elisa, whose beauty without any art or ornament appeared in greater lustre than ever he had seen it: At first, Elisa thinking he had some business with her, asked earnestly what it was: For I do imagine (said she unto him) that it is of some importance; since you come to me at an unusual hour for the visit of Ladies: 'Tis very true Madam, replied Poligenes, the business I come about is of great importance: But I must tell you, (said he, and spoke in a low voice lest any of her women should hear) that the business concerns you more than me: For indeed Madam, had it been only my own business, I should not have been so uncivil, as to have disturbed you at such an unfitting hour; yet though my business is only your service, yet I deluded Straton in telling him, that I desired your judgement in some Jewels, for I did not think sit that he should know what I have to tell you.  
Elisa was at the first surprised at the discourse of Poligenes, but since he never used to tell any thing which displeased her, since she thought him to be her friend, and never suspected him as her lover, she recollected herself, and imagined, that since he had given her heretofore much good advice, so now perhaps he was come to acquaint her what Lyriope had said of her; so that thinking Poligenes had something of consequence to impart, she made a sign unto her women to go out of the Chamber; after which, turning towards Poligenes: I have a great desire, said she unto him, to know what you have to tell me: Madam, said he unto her, though in telling you my business, I shall give you good proof of my affection; yet I wish things were so, that I could omit it; for indeed it is of such a nature, as friendship alone is not enough to excuse the Treason which I shall commit against one whom Nature bids me love; but for all that, since it concerns the glory of Elisa, I shall not weigh it; for I am persuaded, that I ought to his interest or my own, rather than fail in the respects I owe you: I am infinitely obliged unto you (replied Elisa most sweetly) for your expressions of so much zeal in any thing which concerns me; but because I will not hinder you from relating this business which I so much desire to know, I will not therefore at this time return you your due thanks: Though my desires of telling you, replied Poligenes, are higher than yours, yet I cannot choose but terrible at the Treason which I shall commit; Yet notwithstanding I conjure you Madam said he to colour his design) that when I shall have discovered the crime of a man committed against you, that you will not then think me a partaker in his crime, but to make use of the advice which I shall give you, according as your prudence shall think most conducing to your tranquillity: I promise to be directed by your advice Poligenes, replied Elisa, lest I should disoblige him who hath so much obliged me: Then Madam, replied he, I must with some shame and anger tell you, that the man whom I accuse is my brother: How Poligenes (said Elisa and interrupted him) hath Agenor done any thing which will offend me? Agenor (replied Poligenes faintly) doth doubtless adore you as much as possible he can, but to be sincere with you, he hath blabbed out some things which certainly he ought not: But I beseech you (said Elisa sharply) which way can the indiscretion of Agenor concern me, for there is no private intimacy betwixt me and him, or any else? I wish Madam, replied Poligenes, that all he hath told me of you were not true, if it be not, your glory is much more safe: How Poligenes, (replied Elisa and blushed) has Agenor told any thing to my dishonour? He hath told me something, which at least is advantageous unto himself (replied Poligenes;) But Madam before I complain, give me leave to speak, and in accusing Agenor, in some sort to excuse him; and let me further tell you, that it is almost impossible to find a man of his age who is discreet: Discretion is a most excellent quality (replied Elisa sharply) but yet those who come into my company may fail in it, yet not prejudice me: But Poligenes, I pray unmask this Riddle: Madam, said he unto her, I would gladly talk with you, as if you did not know, that Agenor loves you: Alas Poligenes (said Elisa and interrupted him) I believe Agenor hath deceived you, as once he deceived me, when he would have persuaded me, that all those Gallantries which he was used in company, were real marks of his Love; for I profess unto you, I was a long time very angry with him for it, yet in the conclusion I was well satisfied, that all his designs were only to divert, so that we were reconciled again, and I both lost and found a friend in one quarter of an hour: No, no, Madam, replied Poligenes, there is more in it then so: Agenor who is accustomed always to have two or three confidents of his passion, to the end he might have so many witnesses of his glory, made choice of me for one; and indeed I know all the passages between Lyriope and him. Alas Poligenes, said Elisa, Lyriope and I are of very different humours: 'Tis true indeed (replied Poligenes) He does not boast of receiving from you such as he received from her, I mean letters, pictures, tokens, and such like favours as may be kept in a Cabinet, but he is so bold as to say, he hath received such from you, as can be kept only in the heart with a pleasing remembrance: I am so ignorant in matters of Gallantry (replied Elisa with exceeding anger) as I cannot tell the differences between favours and favours, all I know is, there be none so little as are not criminal, or which I could ever find in my heart to confer upon any person: But yet Poligenes, pray ye tell me, what did Agenor say I did for him? He said Madam, since I must tell you, (replied Poligenes) that he has told you a thousand times in secret how he loves you, that you permitted him so to do without the least anger, and that you and he together did scoff at all his Rivals; and that in conclusion, you did not hate him, if you did not love him, and I believe he talked of something more obliging then all these; for he talked, as if he often read in your eyes, that he had a little room in your heart: However Madam (added Poligenes, the more to prejudice Agenor) since I have discovered the weakness of my Brother, yet I must needs ask your favour for him, advising you not to punish him: Ah Poligenes (cried she out) You give me most obliging intelligence, in acquainting me with the wickedness of Agenor, but truly withal, you give me very ill counsel, and I cannot tell whether you do me not a great injury in it, for you seem to think that what he said was not invented: Since Agenor is my Brother, replied Poligenes, You may well pardon me it I did not easily suspect him guilty of so horrid a crime as to invent what he said unto me: If I had thought Agenor had added lies unto his vanity in lieu of advertising you of his crime, I should have punished him myself: Then punish him, replied Elisa, for he never spoke unto me of his pretended passion, but after the manner as I told you, and consequently all that he said are mere forgeries: But since I think it will redound more unto my glory, I will take another course, which shall be never to see him again: Poligenes finding so happy a beginning of his design, to confirm Elisa the more in her resolution, he seemed to oppose it, telling her, it would be enough if she removed from him all subjects for his vanity, and not to grant him the liberty of talking any more in private with her: But the more he pleaded, the more averse was Elisa from ever seeing Agenor again, of which Poligenes was very glad: But since I perceived Elisa was angry with him, for seeming to believe that Agenor had not invented what he had said; he did so carry the matter, as he persuaded her, that indeed he did believe Agenor did forge what he had reported: So that Elisa thought herself extremely obliged to him for his intelligence, and looked upon him as her best and most faithful friend, promising to banish Agenor, and to find out a pretence for it without reflection upon him. In the mean time, her anger against Agenor was extremely high, she would not stir out that day; and as soon as ever Poligenes was gone, she feigned to be ill, and put on her night dress, commanding that none should see her, but those who received this command, did not exactly obey it: Indeed Phocilion being resolved to return unto Sidon, and quit Elisa, as soon as he had twitted her with her weakness, went to her as soon as ever Dinner was done, and found no difficulty of entrance; So that going strait to the Chamber of Elisa, he found her alone, and in a profound study: She no sooner saw him, but chiding her women for not telling him she would not be seen, she sent me to renew the same command, which was exactly obeyed all the rest of the day, so that Elisa unawares gave Phocilion an opportunity of a long audience without interruption; for since she esteemed him very much, she could not in civility bid him be gone, yet she would not bid him sit down, but upon condition he should stay but one quarter of an hour, but he told her such things as she could not foresee her condition was broken, and stayed a great part of the Afternoon. Elisa seemed very sad; and Phocilion was much incensed: They were no sooner set, but he began to speak: Methinks Madam (said he unto her) that for one who has filled many others with joys, you are very sad yourself: I know not whether I had filled any other with joy, replied she, but I am sure there is some who have filled me with sadness: I am afraid Madam, replied he, that I am in the ●umber of those you speak of, and that I am troublesome unto you in rendering my last visit: You need not doubt it (replied Elisa very obliginglie) if you come to bid me adieu, for than you add much unto my sorrow: But Phocilion, You have not placed this word Troublesome right, it had been much better, if you had said you come to make me sad: Your language Madam, replied he, had made me the most happy of men, if you had said so yesterday; but to day, I must confess, the more civil you are unto me, the more rigorous you are: Your language Phocilion, replied Elisa, seems so odd, that I know not how to answer it: That which I know Madam, replied Phocilion, is so strange that I am sure I know neither what to say, nor what to think, and therefore you need not wonder if I be obscure in my expressions, I wish if it were possible, that I should not be understood, and yet I must needs complain; but I am resolved to complain of my own misfortune, and not positively against you: I profess Phocilion, replied Elisa, the more you speak, the less do I understand you: I pray consider well whether you understand yourself, for I must confess, I cannot believe you have any good reason for what you say: I would to the God's Madam, replied he, that I were culpable, and you innocent: Yes, yes, Madam, I am so zealously devoted unto your glory, that as great as my desires are, you should love me, yet I should be contented with your hate, so what I know were untrue: For ought I perceive, replied Elisa, you accuse me of some great crime: The crime whereof I accuse you (replied Phocilion and sighed) is of such a nature Madam, that you would be very innocent, if you were only culpable towards me only: Why Phocilion, (replied Elisa, and blushed for anger) Do you believe I love any one? I know not Madam, answered he, whether the respects I have, and ever will have of you, will permit me to say, I do believe it: But I am sure, that what I heard from the mouths of Poligenes and Agenor, is enough to make me fear it.  
Elisa was amazed to hear Phocilion, who was ever both prudent and respectful, speak such strange language; and she believed there was some odd accident in the wind, whereof she was ignorant. Likewise her fear was, that the vanity of Agenor had reached his ear: But her greatest wonder was, to hear him name Poligenes as well as Agenor: So that being extremely desirous to know the truth, and concealing a part of her choler, she importuned him to tell her what moved him to speak as he did, which he very exact lie did, relating his walk, how he went into the Grotto to avoid meeting Poligenes and Agenor, how the Rain made them also to enter after him, and afterwards related to a syllable all he heard them say. Phocilion made this relation with eyes full of sorrow, he often interrupted himself with sighs, he looked upon Elisa in such a concerned manner, and spoke so feelingly and respectivelie, that she did not at all suspect him of any forgery, nor did she make any question, but that what he related unto her, were spoken by Poligenes and Agenor, and she did the sooner believe it, because there was much concurrence between the relations of Poligenes and Phocilion concerning Agenor: But the horror of the business, was her apprehensions of Poligenes, who never solicited her but as a friend, and who came to advertise her of his Brother's vanity, that he should himself prove as vain as he. In the mean time, as she resolved to banish Agenor upon the report of Poligenes, so she resolved upon the same sentence for Poligenes upon the report of Phocilion: But to justify herself unto him, and that with her natural austerity; I am very sorry (said she unto Phocilion) that when it was in your power to engage me infinitely unto you, you should so cruelly disoblige me; for you without any offence have told me almost dead, but you have told me it in wronging me; you might, if you would, have acquainted me with the lies of Poligenes and Agenor, as lies which you thought fit to advertise me of, and not as truths; and to tell you truly, you have more offended me in believing what you heard, than they have done in forging it; and if there be any concurrence between their crime and yours, it is in that they believed one another, as you believed them: Why Madam, replied Phocilion, Can you think me more culpable than Poligenes? Or more wicked than Agenor? However it be, said she, you are not innocent, since you think me capable of extreme imbecility. But to let you see how you are deceived, I am resolved upon three things which I will put in execution; the first is, to swear unto you by all that is Sacred, that neither Poligenes nor Agenor did ever express any affection unto me, unless by way of rallary in public; The second is, that you may judge of what is passed by the future, and to let you know that I fear them not, I will for ever banish them both: The third is, that though I assure you I have more esteem of you then ever I had of any, yet I will banish you as well as they, to let you see that I am Mistress of my own thoughts when I please; and to persuade you by this example, that one who has an absolute Sovereignty over her heart, is not apt to engage herself so lightly as you believed: I cannot endure the sight of a man who is so simply unjust, as to accuse me of a horrid crime, a man who has given me a thousand expressions of esteem, one who might have perfectly known me, one who I believed could not have harboured a disadvantageous thought of me, and one whom I thought had esteemed me so much, as rather would give himself the he, then entertain the least suspicion which might be prejudicial to me. Alas Madam, replied he, How is it possible to be in Love, and not be jealous at the hearing of what I did? And how can one be jealous, and not lose his reason, and be unjust? I know not how these hang together, replied she, but I know that it belongs not unto me to examine the cause of your injustice; therefore, without further examination, whether you be unjust out of Love, or out of jealousy, or out of any other cause, it sufficeth, I have cause enough to punish you: But I beseech you Madam, answered Phocilion, Do you make no difference between them and me? Yes, answered she, for in banishing them, I shall extremely hate and scorn them, but I shall content myself to have much indifferency towards you: This favour Madam (answered Phocilion with a sigh) is of such a nature, as may be received without any retailiation of gratitude: Whatever it be, replied Elisa, it is all you are to expect from me, but to comfort you, let me tell you, that none shall ever receive a greater from me; for after this cruel adventure which hath fallen upon me, I shall be very cautious of such impostunes as these which you have taught me. Phocilion perceiving the firm resolution of Elisa, did use all possible dissuasive Rhetoric; he joined conjurations to prayers, sighs to words, and with tears he kneeled to ask pardon for his fault; but for all these Elisa was unalterable, and go he must without obtaining any thing; yet though he retired with a most sad soul, yet it was some easement unto him, to perceive, that Elisa was innocent; and he did so seriously repent of his facility in believing Poligenes and Agenor, as he hateed them as much as if they were his Rivals, upon whom he resolved a revenge for Elisa's rigour. Also looking upon them as a pack of impostures, he conceived it to be his duty so to do in the behalf of Elisa, though he had no other motive. In the mean while, as Phocilion was full of sorrows and repentance, so was Elisa of anger, and her anger was so full of revenge, that if her soul had been capable of any violent and unjust resolution, she would have attempted any thing to satisfy her revenge upon Poligenes and Agenor. But Elisa being very wise, and knowing that there are some things, which the more noise is made, the worse they are, of which revenge would be but prejudicial; she would not therefore set herself to punish ●hese two offenders, yet she did make them very sensible of her actions; for since they loved her with extreme zeal●, they did most b 〈…〉 e resent her usage of them. In the mean time, since she had taken a resolution to speak unto them, the one in presence of the other, she was two days before she could find a fit opportunity for it, which by good fortune did then present itself: For these two Rivals, both of them desiring to stay the last with Elisa, did stay until all the company was gone from her; so that at the last they were alone with Elisa, but extremely ashameed, and not daring scarce to look upon her, so much did their remorse of conscience upbraid them: So that Elisa being confirmed in her belief of all that Phocilion had told her, began to talk to them both with such a serious severity, enough to make the sturdiest hearts to tremble, and imprint respect in the souls of the most insolent: Since you are Brethren in evil, and guilty of one crime, said she unto them, I think it fit to accuse you both together, and pronounce the same sentence. Poligenes and Agenor hearing Elisa speak thus, were strongly surprised: Poligenes thought Agenor had discovered his crime unto Elisa as he had his: And Agenor thought now that he was not mistaken, when he thought Elisa gave no credit to his words; but as bold as he was, he began to tremble as well as Poligenes, nor had they either confidence or leisure to ask Elisa what their crime was, for she went on in bitter severity to them as she begun: Never think, said she unto them, that I will accuse you by particulars of all your impostures, the discourse would be unworthy of myself, let it suffice I tell you, that the Gods have revealed unto me all that you said in the Grot, that is in the long Tarrass walk by the Sea side, I expressly forbid you both ever to see me again, and let me tell you, that now I scorn you more than ever I have esteemed you; also I defy you, and bid you say the worst that can prejudice me: Never think to employ the power of my Father, for if you do, I will acquaint him with the just cause of complaint I have against you; therefore without any resistance, or delay, I expect obedience unto my will without a syllable of murmur. After these words, Elisa went into her Closet, and made a sign unto them to be gone; so that Poligenes and Agenor not daring to stay her, began to quarrel for betraying each other, yet they durst not stay any longer in Elisa's Chamber, but went out in extreme despair and fury, not yet directly knowing what was the object of all their choler. But they had not gone above twenty paces belching out the fury of their souls, when a friend unto Phocilion met them, and told them, that he expected them both at the Sea side which looks towards the North, with as many Swords as were requisite for two to fight against two, adding, that the cause of his quarrel was of such a nature, as no other way but this could give him satisfaction.  
Poligenes and Agenor having sharp edges set upon their Spirits, did keenlie accept of this Proposition, and as men who had a greater mind to fight with one another, then against any else; yet point of honour not permitting them to deliberate, they told Phocilion's friend that they were ready to go along with him, and did so after they had sent away their men. Since their minds were full, they never considered what might Phocilion's reason be for calling them to this satisfaction, but in the heat of their fury fought, and knew not why; nor would Phocilion tell them directly his reason, lest he should engage the name of Elisa: The quarrel than not being known, the combat than could not be prevented, the event whereof was very bloody; it fell to the lot of Phocilion to fight against Agenor, and Poligenes against Phocilion's friend, all which four were wounded; Phocilion and Agenor more dangerous than the other two, Phocilion had the advantage of Agenor; but Poligenes had the better of Phocilion's friend. This combat made a great noise in the world, none knowing the cause; for when any asked Poligenes or Agenor, they bade them ask Phocilion; and when they asked Phocilion, he answered, that it was sufficient Poligenes and Agenor knew themselves not innocent. In the mean time, this combat produced this good unto Elisa, for Agenor, Poligenes, and Phocilion being all three wounded, she was at much more quietness, nor was any talk of her as the cause, only Lyriope began to chatter a little, but she durst not vie against Elisa, as formerly she used, because her Parents were upon marrying her unto one of the Court named Asiadates, and indeed did marry her unto him within a few days after, more for interest of family, than any other reason: So that fearing lest her hatred of Elisa should speak her Love unto Agenor, she concealed her thoughts of this business: As for Elisa, her anger against Poligenes, against Agenor, and against Phocilion also, made her think herself happy in being delivered from that sight, yet being of a natural goodness, if the thing had been in her dispose, she would not have permitted this combat; but since it was not, nor since she had no hand in it, it did not grieve her that the Gods had permitted them to sight, and had ridded her of such men as she was resolved never to see again.  
This being the state of things, and Elisa confirming herself more and more in her resolutions never to marry, but to grow more austere if it were possible. Straton who never enjoyed himself since the death of the last King, but having lost all his hopes, he fell sick, and within seven days died of so violent a Fever, as he was not able to order any business since the first day of his falling sick. This accident was so mournfully resented by Elisa, as I wonder it did not cost her life, at least her beauty, yet the tears upon her face was only like a dew upon Roses, which in lieu of changing them, makes them more sweet and lovely; and as melancholy has a kind of languishing sweetness in it, so Elisa doubtless was nothing so austere in her sorrows as formerly, and consequently not so apt to drive her Lovers into despair. Elisa in losing Straton, did not only lose a most indulgent Father, but found a subversion of her fortune, by falling under the power of a fantastical Mother, who loved her not, but who since the death of Straton did persecute her a hundred several ways. However, Elisa carried herself with as much respect, as if she were the best Mother in the world; and her generosity was so high, that Barce having left her in the Country, and being returned herself to Tyre, she there fell sick of such a contageous disease, as Husbands dare not come near their Wives, nor Wives their Husbands; yet Elisa no sooner heard the condition wherein Barce was, but she departed immediately, and went notwithstanding the danger, to help that person who resolved to make her life as miserable as she could: But the Gods, who doubtless were pleased to make the virtue of Elisa more splendent, took Barce out of this world, just as Elisa was going into her Chamber, against the persuasions of all her friends: But seeing her Mother was past recovery, she withdrew from a needless danger, and retired herself unto a Lady's house who was her Cousin, who lived extremely closely, and whose virtue was extraordinary. Thus Elisa made it most evident by this action, that she had no design of admitting so much company as she had during the life of Straton. But to the end Elisa might make the greatness of her soul appear, the Gods were pleased to abase her fortune, that they might elevate her Glory, by such a way as many have lost theirs Since Straton had great employments under the late King of Phenicia, all those unto whom he was indebted did fall upon Elisa for satisfaction, and seized upon all her estate with so much violence and injustice, that they made Elisa almost as poor as fair: However, though she saw herself in a most lamentable condition, yet her high soul never trembled at it, but she carried out her bad fortune with as much resolution, as she did her good with moderation, nor was she less austere; and when Poligenes, Agenor, and Phocilion were recovered, and would have seen her, she did forbid them with as much authority, as if she had been upon a Throne, and they her Subjects, she was more severe than before, and she would make it appear, that since she was Mistress of herself, she would follow the rules of virtue more exactly than before: But Madam, that you may see how great her virtue was, be pleased to know, that Asiadates whom Lyriope had married, did at that time fall so desperately in Love with Elisa, as he was ready to run out of all his wits and patience for her, and who did more hang upon her then ever Poligenes and Agenor did; Asiadates is a man of much Spirit, but very violent and hasty, which moved him to act his desires with an unexpressible impetuosity; you may then very well imagine, that he being deeply in Love with Elisa, would do any thing to enjoy her he loved, if he could find out fit opportunities for it. Since Elisa would not admit of any visits, unless of her most intimate friends, who could not be suspected of any Gallantry, he could not find his desired opportunity of seeing her at that Lady's house: At last he contracted a great league of amity with a person of Quality, who was one of Elisa's friends: Since few men in all Phenicia were richer than siadates was, and since he understood the decay of Elisa's estate, he conceived that a woman, who was as highminded as even unto very pride itself, could never brook poverty, but thought that perhaps excessive liberality ha●● somly carried, would tempt her to admit of him as her friend at least, though not as her Lover, yet he durst not be so forward as to offer any presents unto Elisa, with capitu●ations of giving all his riches for the purchase of her heart but he told her by this friend (whom he persuaded that generosity more than Love prompted him, since he could not endure to see virtue poor) that he made her an offer of all his estate, without the thought of retribution or gratitude, but her acceptance: Also he put into the hands of this Lady a vast number of Jewels, to present them unto Elisa; so that any other than she, considering the state of her fortune, might easily have been dazzled by them, for Elisa then did subsist only by the generosity of her with whom she lived. In the mean time, all the eloquence of his Lady Solicitor could not persuade her to accept of this magnificent present, though she did negotiate very cunningly with her; for having insensibly engaged Elisa to look upon them, she carried her unto a Closet, where this abundance of Jewels did lie upon a Table: Elisa not knowing how they related unto her, began to look upon them she thought most admirably rare, and asked the Lady whose they were? Before I return you an answer, (said this dangerous friend unto her) let me ask you what you would think of a man who would give you all these Pearls, Diamonds, Rubies and Emeralds? I would say and think (replied Elisa) that he were either much in Love, or very liberal, or else not very wise, for I know not what else I should either say or think: Yet there is something to be said (answered she) unto him that would give such a Present: For indeed Elisa, it must needs be confessed, that Asiadates is the most generous man alive, and the most real friend that ever I knew; and to make it evident, be pleased to know, that he is so charmed with your virtue, as not being able to endure Fortune should treat you with so much injustice, he hath charged me to beseech you, that you will be pleased he may do that which Fortune would not, and enrich you with what she has given him; He thinks his estate is not his so long as you do want it, and is persuaded that you have more right unto it then himself. Moreover, never think that he has any ill intentions in it, he will not so much as see you, if you please, he expects no retaliation or gratitude, but his liberality is all pure; therefore Elisa make no scruple in accepting the assistance of such a man, who offers it unto you by me, who would never advise you unto any thing which might be prejudicial unto you, and who would never offer you the aid of another, if I were of ability enough myself. All the while this Lady was talking, Elisa's resentments were inexpressible, sometimes anger made her blush, and look with scorn upon her which spoke, otherwhiles her shame made her deject her eyes, and sometimes her wonder would bring such paleness into her face, as if she were afraid: But at last, not being able to keep silence, I could never have believed, said she unto her, that Fortune could have brought me into such a condition, that any one should be so bold as to make such a Proposition unto me: But as there are some who suck poison out of the most innocent things, so by contraries I will draw glory out of the most infamous act in the world: And that you may not think I speak this out of an arrogant pride, I will render you a reason of my thoughts.  
Know then, I am fully persuaded, that the estates of our friends may be ours upon some certain occasions; but I am fully persuaded withal, that unless one will render herself infamous, one ought never to take or accept any thing from a Lover: Yet I have heard you say, (replied this interested friend) that liberality and love are inseparable Concomitants: And I assure you, replied Elisa, that woman who receiveth Presents does give herself, or to say better, doth sell herself: So that when a Lover would be liberal, it must be without any gifts unto his Mistress; but in Feasts, clothes, magnificent equipage, not in any things which are profitable unto the person he loves; for indeed I know nothing so base, so wicked, so opposite to modesty, nor which begets greater thoughts of scorn, then for a woman to take any thing of a man who is in love with her; and truly, for my part, I had incomparably rather receive a benefit of such a nature as this you offer me, from the hand of a mortal enemy, then from any lover, and to beg it upon my knees, then to accept it from a man who is in love with me: I beseech you think, that as unfortunate as I am, I have still a heart so high, as Fortune cannot make it lower; and if I were to choose, either death or these magnificent Jewels, doubtless I should prefer it before them all, rather choosing to die with glory then live with shame: But Madam (said this corrupt friend) Asiadates doth not require any thing from you: He doth insolently ask me all things, replied she, in offering me all these riches; and I am confident, that never any woman received any considerable present from a Lover, but within few hours after he has less esteem of her then if she had refused it, and looks upon her as one whom he has right unto, as if he had bought a Slave: Tell therefore Asiadates, he is undiscreet in the management of his inclination, which doubtless is liberal, since in lieu of getting my esteem by this virtue, he hath got my aversion; if he will be showing his liberality, he must bestow it without any ends, let him enrich many unfortunate Gentlemen, of which the Court is full, and never think of dazzling my eyes with Diamonds: Tell him farther, that I will shun him as much as civility will permit me, and if I should follow my own inclination. I should be revenged on him with more anger and delight, then if he had stole as much riches from me as he offers: And as for you (said she unto her whom she spoke unto) I will for my own glory believe, that you thought the intentions of Asiadates very pure and innocent; but since he hath a little corrupted you, I must continue no longer with one who will be persuaded unto any thing opposite to Justice and virtue: In saying so, she rise up, and went out, maugre all the persuasions of the Lady, and put her so out of countenance, as she durst never after see Elisa. In the mean while, Asiadates was even dead in sorrow, when he understood how Elisa had rejected his liberality, yet he acknowledged that he both esteemed and loved her much more for it, than he did before: But the waspish part of the business was Lyriope, who till then never believed that Asiadates was in Love with Elisa; but perceiving him to be melancholy, she came to discover the cause, and to be extremely jealous and spiteful: Asiadates on his side, he conceiving that if he had not been married, he might have married Elisa, he began to hate her abominably: So that Elisa without any design, did make these two persons the most miserable of their time. In the mean time, Poligenes and Agenor being out of all hopes to relent the heart of Elisa, they began to quench the flames of their passions, yet still had such a high esteem of her, as obliged them both to justify her, and confess their imposture: But as for Phocilion, who was accustomed to love without hope, he continued to love her as before, and was so constantly resolute, that in the end Elisa pardoned him, upon condition he should keep himself within the limits of friendship, without ever speaking of any Love.  
This being the state of affairs, Elisa followed her business so wisely and close, and with such good success, as she recovered the greatest part of her estate out of their hands who had usurped it, and was now in a condition able to subsist of herself according to her Quality without the benevolence of any; yet upon the casting up of all accounts, she found herself not so rich as she imagined; but yet having a sufficient competency to pass in the world, she contented herself with her fortune, and suited herself accordingly: One loss she had which grieved her very much, for she lost that Lady with whom she lodged: After which, she resolved to be Mistress of herself, and to enjoy that freedom as long as she lived, she being the most sociable company in the world, she had as much care in the culling of her friends, as she had in avoiding her lovers: Never did any live a life more pleasing, more contentedly, nor merrily then Elisa, after she had quit herself of Poligenes, Agenor, and Asiadates, who since the refusal of his Present, durst never persecute her as before, yet still the same fire burned in his heart most ardently: But Madam, that you may the better understand the felicity of Elisa, it is expedient I make descriptions of some of her friends which she then entertained, and what manner of lives both she and they lived, by which doing I shall add glory to my Country, by acquainting you with the number of most accomplished persons who were with her: Be pleased to know then, that after Elisa saw her fortunes to be competent, and in a better state than once she hoped, she had the happiness to be dearly loved with high esteem and tenderness, by one of the most illustrious persons in the world for all Qualities: Elisa and this Lady, whose name was Cleomira, were inseparable. Give me leave to tell you, how Cleomira though she lived at Tire, yet was an Athenian born, and that her family was as illustrious as any of their Kings can boast of. But since I am not to relate her history, but only to let you understand the merit of her person, I shall only tell you, that Cleomira married a man of the best rank in all Phenicia, and of merit suitable to his Quality; after this I will endeavour to give you an Idea of Cleomira: I must not describe her Madam as our Painters do Venus, for she was not modest enough to set out Cleomira, nor yet as Pallas, because she was too austeer; nor as Juno, who was not charming enough, nor of Diana who was a little too salvoge: But to represent Cleomira rightly, is to pick out all the excellencies of all these Goddesses, to make her picture resemblant: Cleomira was tall and well proportioned, all the features of her face were miracles, the delicacy of her complexion is inexpressible, the Majesty of her presence strikes admiration, and there is a kind of divine lustre in her eyes which imprints reverence in the souls of all those who look upon her; and for my part, I must confess, that I never came near Cleomira, but my heart was struck with an awful respect. Moreover Cleomira's eyes are so wonderfully fair, that it is impossible any tongue should describe them, they are eyes which indeed do produce admiration, yet do not produce the same effects which other fair eyes use to do in the hearts of beholders, for in producing Love, they also produce at the same time both fear and reverence, and by a peculiar privilege they purify the hearts which they burn. There was also a mixture of excellent modesty with the Majesty and sweetness which was in her eyes, and I am most confident, that there is not any man in the world which durst entertain the least disvitious thought in the presence of Cleomira. Moreover, her physiognomy is the fairest, the sweetest, and the most Noble that ever eye beheld; and there appeared such a serene tranquillity in her countenance, as did evidently speak the Haltion calmness in her soul; one might perceive all her Passions were subjects unto her reason, and never raised any intestine rebellions in her heart: I do not think that ever the Carnation in her cheeks was seen to exceed its limits, unless through heat in Summer, or by a blush, but never out of anger or irregularity in her soul: So that Cleomira being always constantly tranquil, was always constantly fair: Indeed Madam, if a body of chastity were to be adored throughout all the earth, I would represent Cleomira's: If one would emblem glory, then let Cleomira's picture be taken, or for virtue hers also. Moreover, the mind and soul of this admired person did infinitely transcend her beauty, she has no equal in generosity, constancy, goodness, justice and purity: The spirit of Cleomira has more in it then the light of Nature, for it is adorned and dressed with all the Liberal Arts, she speaks divers languages elegantly, and is ignorant in nothing that merits knowledge, yet seems not to know; the most sublime Sciences transcend not her knowledge, she is a complete Mistress in the most difficult Arts, she built a Palace after her own ingenuous model, the best in the world, she found out the Art of a Palace of a vast capacity in a little room, order, proportion, regularity are in all the rooms, all is magnificent, all convenient, full of conceit and useful design, her Closets and Cabinets are full of rarities, which speak the judgement of the chooser; the Air in her Palace is all perfume, several rich pots full of flowers makes a continual Spring in her Chamber, and the rooms of common use are so full of pleasure and fancy, that one would think himself in a place enchanted when he's there. Moreover, she had a most facetious ingenuity, in composing either Prose or Verse. But amongst so many high advantages which she received from the Gods, she had the misfortune, that the least distemper impaired her health, like certain flowers, which to preserve their freshness, must neither be always in the Sun, nor always in the shade, which yet being kept neither cold nor h●t, do keep their beauty, or else will wither and die: Cleomira therefore being so tender, went less abroad than any other Ladies in Tire: The truth is, she never needed to go out of her house to seek for company, for there was not a person in all the Court, who had any excellency of wit or virtue, who did not frequent it, nothing did pass for currant, if it had not the stamp of her approbation, not to be known unto her, was thought not to be in the world; a stranger never traveled to Tire, who would not see Cleomira, and pay her homage; not any excellent Artificer but desired the glory of her approbation upon their works, all the Poets in Phenicia did sing her Encomiums, and she had the esteem of all so universally, as there was never any that ever saw her, which did not extol her, and were charmed with her wit, her sweetness and her generosity. Moreover, Cleomira was not the only Ornament of her Palace, for she had two Daughters, who indeed were worthy to be hers: The elder, whose name was Philonide, has a mixture of much beauty, much complacence, much wit; all her inclinations are noble and generous, her stature tall and handsome, her beauty rare, her behaviour the most genuine and natural in the world, her wit the most charming, the most easy, and the most gallant that can be, she writ as well as she spoke, and she spoke like an Angel; she was wonderfully apt for all excellent things, and was ignorant in nothing that was fit for a person of her Quality to know; her dancing was able to make any in love with her, and she was every way so apt for the world, for great feasts, and the honours of a great Court, that it was impossible for any to be more, her dress did ever so well become and fit her, and troubled her so little, that one would say any thing would fit her, pleasures and delights did so Court her, that not a day did pass without a fresh diversion, and if ever she were sick, it was ever at such melancholy times, as when no pleasures were stirring; and if she were ill at any time, it was only so, as to draw all the Court unto her Chamber, and never so ill as to be deprived of their company. Moreover, she had such a prodigious number of friends, (to say nothing of her Lover) as it was to be admired how she could answer the friendships of so many at once, yet she gave them all very ample satisfaction; Yet I am confident, say what she please, that it was impossible she should love so many as she seemed to be obliged unto for their friendship; and I am certain, there was a great number whom she did only esteem with common civility and acknowledgements, yet they all were very well contented with her, and loved her as effectually as if she loved them, not but that she had many friends who had deep s●ares in her heart, but that choice number was not easily discerned from the rest, and I believe only herself knew positively whom and how she loved; yet she had a general tenderness to all, which made her the most officious person in the world, and had such secret and particular charms in her conversation towards some few men she liked, as to pass away one afternoon in her Chamber in one of those Summer days, which Ladies use to convert into an artificial night to avoid the heat, was enough to fall in Love with Philonida: But Madam, as Philonida was a great contributor unto the diversions of Cleomira's Palace, and made it a most charming Paradise of pleasures, Anacrisa her Sister did merit to be her Partner: She was not so tall as Philonida, though of a handsome stature, but the lustre of her complexion was so taking, and the delicacy of it so extraordinary, that though her eyes were not extremely fair, yet every one did highly applaud her with a thousand Encomiums. Though Anacrisa was both very fair and amiable, yet there was something in her aspect so sprightly, so delicate, so subtle, so austere, so crafty, and so sweet both, as did most pleasing arrest all eyes, and as did make her both loved and feared at once; and certainly it is no wonder she should inspire both these two passions at one time, for she was the most amiable, and the most terrible both which was in all Phenicia: There was one considerable difference between Philonida and Anacrisa, which yet was contributory to their happiness; the first of them was almost never discontented, in all places she was pleased with what she could find in them, and whither soever she went, she carried such a suitable Spirit along with her, as that she could find pleasures in Provinces furthest off from the Court: But for Anacrisa, there was so few things which satisfied her, so few persons that pleased her, so few pleasures that fitted her inclination, her fancy was so delicate, and her humour so hard to be pleased, as it was almost impossible for her to find one day of perfect happiness in a whole year; yet was she so happy, as that her dislikes were always divertisements; for when she was to pass over a tedious journey in the Country, or an afternoon in bad company, she would do it so pleasantly, and in such a charming manner, that it was not possible but to admire her, and one could not choose but pardon a person of so much beauty and spirit as she was, for being very hard to please in her choice of such as she would honour with her esteem, or allow them her conversation.  
Thus Madam have I described Cleomira, and her two admired Daughters; and after this, I beseech you, imagine what delights Elisa would enjoy in the friendship of three such illustrious persons, who were not contented with loving her themselves, but also would have all their friends to love her: Truth is, Elisa was so amiable, that to know her was enough to love her; but though she had been less obliging, yet her affection to Cleomira had been enough to purchase a reciprocal love, for certainly never did two love each other better, than Elisa and Cleomira; and her assiduity did sufficiently testify as much, since she was continually with her, and did every day partake of each others pleasures and diversions: She was continually studious how to divert her with some pleasant invention, sometimes by music in her garden, and sometimes by some innocent disguisement of herself with some other of her friends: And since there was nothing excellent which might not be seen in Cleomira's Palace, Elisa was in a continual Paradise of joy and pleasure; but the most solid and greatest pleasure of all the rest was, that every Evening all Cleomira's most intimate friends did rendezvouz at her Palace, and parted not, until handsomeness and necessity of sleep did invite them. But Madam, that you may the better understand the sweetness of this Society, it is requisite I give you a hint of some where of it was composed, I mean of those who were particular friends unto Elisa, for I should be too long and tedious, if I should speak of all that great number which meet every day at the Palace of Cleomira; and I am persuaded, that if I should undertake it, I should make you more descriptions than there are Statues of gold and silver in the Treasury of Croessus: So that confining myself unto more narrow limits, I shall only show you the pictures of some five or six, whom Elisa most esteemed, and who indeed were worthy to be so: Be pleased to know then, that amongst those who came every day unto Cleomira's there was a man of good Quality, called Megabates, Governor of a Phenician Province, and whose rare merit is worthy to be known unto the illustrious Cyrus. Indeed he was a man extraordinary, and it was hard to find a man of so many excellent qualities; he was big and of a good stature, his aspect was fierce and sprightly, he had given so many testimonies of his courage, as he had purchased abundance of glory; he has been seen to force Colours out of an Ensigns hand in the midst of a whole Squadron of enemies, and kill him at his feet; afterwards to disengage himself courageously from his crowd of enemies, that would have hindered his retreat: But Madam, it is not courage only which makes Megabates illustrious, for the generosity of his soul doth doubtless merit as much as his courage; and though he be naturally of a violent temper, yet is he highly just. Moreover, he is a most zealous honourer of his King, and lover of his Country's good, and the same zeal which he has to his Prince, and to glory, the same he hath to his friends; he is not light in the choice of them, but whom he doth choose, may be assured that he is Ancere, faithful and zealous: As he is just, so is he a declared enemy unto flattery, he cannot commend where he finds not worth, nor can his soul descend so low as to speak what he thinks not, choosing rather the opinion of a severe man, then of a flatterer; and I verily think, that if he were in Love with a Lady, who had any slight defects either in her beauty, her wit, or her humour; all the violence of her passion could not make him betray his own thoughts; I verily believe if he had a Mistress that was pale, he would never say it was whiteness, or if she were melancholy, he would not in a compliment call it seriousness; all he was able to do, was to say nothing, where he could not speak in her advantage; but he was never put to any such extremities, for since he was deeply in Love with the fair Philonida, who had all the graces both of body and mind, he was never put to any constraint of himself, and he might well applaud her ten thousand times without any fear of flattery. Moreover, Megabates in possessing all the virtues, had not the least mixture of any vices among them, nor the least tincture of any ill habits, his morals were all innocent, his inclinations were all noble, and the most censorious observers of him, could find nothing to cavil at but the maintaining his opinions with too much heat; but though he was very eloquent, yet when the heat of dispute did animate him, that others would not be of his opinion, nor he of theirs: For indeed Madam you must know, that Megabates was Master of as much wit as courage and virtue, a wit that was conversant in finest Sciences, and I dare assure you, that since Homer unto Aristheus, there is not a man who hath written, whose works he hath not read, with a judgement able to censure, both their excellencies and their defects; and certainly his critical humour may be born with as an effect of his justice Moreover, he writ himself so well both in Prose and Verse, that it is a great pity he should not do it after, or that he should be nice in that Quality: As he writ well, so no man could speak better, especially in such company as pleased him, and did not oblige him to observe a rigid silence, as he did sometimes with such as pleased him not. Moreover, he was so exceedingly apprehensive, and could so dive into the hearts of those he listened unto, that he would not only answer their words, but would very often hit on their thoughts. Again, Megabates for all his austerity was exceeding civil, and this commendations must needs be given him, that he was the most regular, the most exact, and the most constant Lover in the world; whosoever judgeth of him, either by the illustrious person whom he loved, or by those whom he numbered in the Catalogue of his friends, must needs speak much in his advantage, since certainly they cannot accuse him of any Hoodwinked passion, or any bad choice in his friends, since they were all of them worthy to be so: But Madam, I should never make an end, if I should tell you all the excellencies of Megabates: I will therefore end with this for all, that he was a man incomparable, and that too much cannot never be spoken in his commendations: Judge than I beseech you what glory Elisa had, in having a friend of so much merit, a friend who never commended but upon merit, and who did zealously commend wheresoever he found worth; he extolled her to the heavens, and doubtless she preferred one good word of his, before ten thousand of others, because she knew he was sincere. I remember I heard her once say in aggravation of his sincerity, that she would not believe her glass, so soon as she would Megabates, when he told her she was fair. In the mean time, though she who had such a friend might well esteem him as a Jewel, yet Megabates was not the only riches of Elisa, for she had other friends who in their ways, and in their professions, deserved that glorious Title.  
The Highpriest of Tire, amongst the rest of her most confident friends, was certainly a man most admirable, he had a wit so quick, so sprightly, and so superlative, that there was nothing which escaped his knowledge; yet was he naturally merry, and by inclination so gallant, that before the Gods had took him unto their service, he could not talk of any thing else but Gallantry, having such a natural Genius to it, as he would be unawares full of such expressions, but it was so pleasingly, as Elisa told me one day in a merriment, that it was pity when he changed his way of life, he should not bequeath his talon unto some other, who with decency might have made use of it: But Madam, that you may the better know this Terian Highpriest, be pleased to know, that the solitude unto which he had confined himself, when he changed his profession, did not convert him into a savage, but his natural pleasantness of his Spirit remained still, yet in such bounds of goodness and modesty, as resembled the innocence of the former ages: So that since there is nothing more agreeable, then to find a great wit, and much sweetness mingled together, so there is nothing more amiable, than the conversion and Society of this Tyrian Highpriest; yet there is something of abruptness in his Spirit, and precipitation in his gesture, but not so much as to hinder him from being answerable to my description; and this sudden agitation which appeared in his body and mind, was rather an effect of zealous raptures at sublime thoughts, then of any distemper in his humour: Moreover, his virtue, though most exact, yet was not so rude and austere as in others; he applied himself unto solid goods, and rested not upon false and deceiving appearances, the equality of his humour was one of the charms of his Society, he was never sullen nor sharp with his friends; but loved them with tenderness and passion, loved them without any ends, he would go from his solitude to the Court without any transports of joy, and from the Court to his solitude without any sorrow; but the rarity is, this Highpriest is not only knowing in matters of Divinity, aed Sacrifices to the Gods, but he is excellent in a hundred thousand several other things; he writes most admirably either in Prose or Verse, and with such a smooth facility, as if all the Muses were his Dictator's, and inspired with what he writ; his fancies in matters of Poetry is of so vast an extent, that it comprehends the whole universe, he is so facetious, so smooth, so sweet in his writings, that he adds a new fragrancy to the Roses, and a greater lustre to the Sun, his works do so insinuate, and imprint themselves in the heart and mind with such a passionate Character, as they are exceedingly profitable, and yet this soul so elevated, has the sweetness and docility of a child, it is free from all presumption or vanity, and he does so charm all those that know him well, as they cannot choose but love him, and that with extreme tenderness, his soul is adorned with a most modest joy which proceeds from his nature, and from the serenity of his passions, and which doth often communicate itself unto others: This passionate inclination of his soul is not changed in him by changing his condition, he hath only changed the object of his passion, and in lieu of loving as he did heretofore all that was amiable, he now loves only that which is permitted him to love, which is, his duty and his friends: He is also much taken with the general beauties of the universe, and makes it his ordinary delight to admire the grandeur of the Gods in contemplation of wonders in their works: The rising and the setting of the Sun is a great diversion unto him, and more than every one is capable of: A serene calm night, under a Canopy of sparkling Stars, does pleasingly invite his looks, the murmur of a purling Fountain doth sweetly charm his ears, and the unmeasurable vastness of the Sea does fill his soul with so much pleasure, as makes him the more adore that God who is the maker of it. Thus the recreations of this Tyrian Highpriest, being a study of wisdom, you may easily imagine, how sublime is his serious business; and yet his conversation is all affable, all pleasant, free, and diverting, having the art, when he is disposed unto any Rallary, to leave out all bitterness and sharpness, and to retain that which is pleasing and agreeable, which certainly is a thing more difficult than the ta 〈…〉 g of Lions: Judge then Madam, if this Sidonian Highpriest be not worthy to be received into the Palace of the great Cleomira, to be esteemed of Philonida and Anacrisa, to be loved of the generous Megabates, and to be one of the friends of Elisa, and indeed he is so, and in such sort, as none is more in her favour than he.  
After this Madam, I must acquaint you, how there is another man of Quality, one of this admirable Society, who the Highpriest of Sidon did most tenderly affect, called Clearques, whose description is so difficult, as I know not how to make it resemble him; yet certainly he merits to be known unto you, and that with much esteem: I can easily tell you, that his stature is a common height, his hair brown, and all the features of his face regular enough, and also indifferently pleasing; but as for his Air and Physiogaomy I challenge any one to describe it: For indeed Madam, there is in his face a kind of seriousness and lumpish melancholy, and yet there is also a kind of blithness and jollity in his eyes: Truth is, there is a miscellany of joy and sorrow in his composition, which succeeding each other in their turns, and sometimes may be seen both at a time in his face, makes Clearques to please infinitely: He hath such a disposition unto mirth, that in the midst of the most cross affairs in the world, he is almost always ready to tell a merry tale, or to take any recreation: But Madam, in speaking of the Spirit of Clearques, I must tell you, that he had as much courage as was possible, that he had made himself eminent in Martial matters a thousand times, and that he had all the qualities which were desirable in a man of honour, but I will not insist upon any description of his virtues, only I must tell you, that he had one very eminent Quality, which was, that he would most faithfully and zealously keep all his promises of this, he hath given most Heroic testimonies; for all Phenicia knows, and hath seen him a thousand times hazard his life and liberty for the interest of a great Prince unto whom he was engaged. But in prosecution of my design, I must let you know, wherein Clearques is the most singular: Imagine him then Madam to have as clear and delicate a Spirit as a man can have, and as capable of any high business when he pleased to employ his parts: But the wonder is, there is not a man in the world who knew how to play the fool more pleasantly than he; for his Spirit had such a Genius so apt and particular for it, that nothing in the world made more pleasant sport then to hear him talk; yet his way was nothing like unto theirs who make it their profession to tell merry stories and tales; that which rendered him most pleasant was, he talked as if he never thought of what he said, yet wit, fancy, and quickness were inseparable from his words. Moreover, he would pass so subtly from a serious matter to a merry, that one could not choose but take exceeding delight in it: Some days he would be very reserved and serious, as if he were hatching some deep design, and after he had kept a long and grave silence, he would suddenly begin to talk of Guegawes and gallantry as jocundly, as if he had never mused at all: He would also address himself to the most, and the most serious person in the world, as well as unto the most merry; and he did so well know how to hit the Spirits of those he talked with, as he never spoke any thing which would let them take it ill: He would sometimes act the child, as if he were one indeed, and with as much application, as if he had nothing else to do; he would also act the old and the young, the wise, the simple, the sprightly, the Blockhead, when he was in the humour to make himself merry. Moreover, he was born with an amorous soul, but it was not after a common fashion: For the very truth is Madam, Clearques was the most gallant, the veriest Weathercock, and the most constant Lover in the world; and though this last quality seems to be incomparable with the second; yet it is most true, that he was both fickle and constant; his soul hath been so full of passion, that nothing could never stagger it, but maugre this constancy, he hath entertained a hundred petty transitory Loves; he never saw a woman that pleased him, but he would tell her of it, and be ready to do a thousand slight services when occasions presented themselves, and to take delight in seeing and be seen: Yet for all this, there was still a superlative and predominate passion in his heart, which was never weakened by this multitude of trifling gallantries which he was in all places full of, and he was ever able to quit these transitory Mistresses for her unto whom he had really given his heart, and was resolved always never to abandon her: So that having found out the art of reconciling fidelity and inconstancy together, he was all complacent unto all the Beauties he met with; and yet preserved himself for his real Mistress: It may be also said, that Fortune had a mind to favour his gallant and merry inclination, for he met with fit adventures in every place, and found out occasions of employing his talon amongst many Ladies, and that fair ones; so that his adventures were very suitable to his humour. Moreover, as he could speak excellently, so he could write as well; and I do not think any ever had a more amiable way of trying wit as Clearques had in his Verses and Letters, so gallant and so pleasant as is inimitable: For though all he writ was genuine and natural, yet the wonder is how he could hit upon it, having such peculiar fancies, as none could light upon, or if they did, could not express them comparable to him: In short Madam, Clearques was a man so extraordinary, that if the sweetness and pleasants of his Spirit were separated from the rest of his good qualities, doubtless enough would be found to make up two complete men out of one. He is also universally loved and esteemed of all who know him, especially by the admirable Cleomira, and all those whose descriptions I have made.  
Now Madam, to follow the Rule I proposed unto myself, I beseech you give me leave to describe unto you the wise Theodamus, who was one of this Society: He of whom I speak Madam being infinitely esteemed of all those excellent persons I have named, ought in reason to be so of you; nor do I doubt, but he will as soon as you shall know him: Theodamus is not originally a Phenician, but of a good extraction and Family, wherein virtue hath appeared with full lustre a long time. Moreover, though Theodamus by his profession may be ranked amongst those who are called the accomplished men of the Town; yet in respect of his great virtue and rare merit, he is ranked amongst the accomplished men of the Court, all who do universally esteem him, and treat him with extraordinary civility. But Madam, since the soul of Theodamus does merit a thousand praises, I will not insist upon the description of his person; and to let you know him, I must first describe unto you his honesty, his justice, and his prudence; and I assure you, that all these three virtues are to be found in his heart, as they are in themselves: Indeed I do not think there is any man in the world more sincere, more free, nor more faithful than he; he is most just in every thing, even in such things as he is interested in; and there was never any who with more reason doth merit the title of Prudent than he; yet there is something in his temper which is not ordinarily found in temperance, for he is extremely vehement, and if his wisdom were not accustomed to conquer all his passions, and subdue them unto his reason, his choler would sometimes shake his soul: But Madam, this fire which upon some occasions put him to some pain, produceth a thousand good effects, for it makes him the more zealous to serve his friends, it elevates both his heart and soul, it contributes much vigour and spirit in the transaction of any business he goes about, either in his own affairs or his friends. Moreover, he resembles the generous Megabates so near, that the love of his Country is so deeply imprinted in his herrt, as there is nothing which he will not attempt for its safety, if occasion served. Again, Theodamus is the most regularly civil of all men living, and the most unwilling to disoblige any one; 'Tis true, his soul was open, but unto very few, yet his heart was hard unto none: As the soul of Theodamus was great, firm, and generous, so his mind was as great, solid, and extremely knowing; but though he was knowing almost in every thing, yet had been never versed in the Greek Tongue, though his name was descended out of that Country where they speak no other; yet truly this little piece of ignorance in him, (if the word may be applied unto so able and knowing a man) did set off all the rest of his knowledge much better, for though he had not the Grecian Language, yet he knew all the Greeks did know, and there was not any Science unto which he could not speak exceeding well; but in lieu of that Language, he was most perfect in the Assyrian, which is the most universal in all Asia, and he was a Critic in his own natural tongue, insomuch as there was none who was addicted to write in the Phenician Language, but they consulted with Theodamus, who had himself so polite and uncommune stile, as never any had more fit, more noble, and more natural expressions of himself than he: He writ also in an excellent Character, which set off his works the better; and I assure you, without any flattery of him, that there appeared a sweet regularity in every thing he did, neatness was inseparable from every thing about him, neat in his apparel, neat in his house, neat in all things, so that the high-prized Cabinets of others, were not worth so much as his of less value at home, every trifle were effects of the generosity of his judgement, which could not endure to see any thing out of its place. In the mean time, there is such a Sea of goodness in his soul, that though he can see the least blemish in those that converse with him, yet he was never known to speak the least syllable of the faults and imperfections of others, unless it were in a wild and harmless way of acquainting the owners of them, that they might correct them: Nor had this his goodness the least tincture of distimulation in it, when he thought it fit to speak unto any of his friends; for since he transacted always by the Rule of reason, he never sought how to please them he advised, but how he might profit them. In the mean time, he is all sweetness, all civility, and will commend, even with the highest strains, those whom he see deserve it: He is so exceedingly taken with all manner of merit and virtue, as makes most evident he is himself a man of superlative parts; but my greatest admiration is, that though his temper be both violent and serious, yet his conversation is sweet, easy, mild, agreeable, natural, and gallant, never contesting in his discourse, letting them speak who have a mind to it, and himself full of ability to speak when he will; and though he will sometimes argue upon things, yet it is without any fury or intemperance, but w 〈…〉 h such mildness, as speaks him an absolute Master of his passion, and a lover of reason; but when he is at any time high and zealous, he is perfectly convinced, that Right and Justice is on his side, and knows it requisite to dispute with zeal. Moreover, Theodamus makes it evident by his curiosity, that his pleasures deserves applauds, for he hath a Study which is adorned with most rare books, having carefully and ingenuously collected all the learned, witty, polite, gallant, and pleasant writings of all the wits in Phenicia, since he came into the world: In short Madam, I do assure you, that Theodamus, both for the beauty of his soul, and the goodness of his heart, and also for the fi●e●ess of his wit, is worthy of infinite praises, and to be ranked in the number of those whom Elisa prefers before the rest of the world; and indeed it is most certain, that she did prefer him above those she esteemed most, and amongst those whom she admitted into her heart, he had the highest place; and indeed, the truth is, he was a man of such rare merits, that he was worthy to be proposed as a model of a man of true honour.  
After all this Madam, I must beg your favour, and permittance to make two descriptions more: The first shall be of a man of twenty two years of age, called Pherecides, who at that age had the glory to have for his friends all that Phenicia had most illustrious; And the other shall be of the famous Aristheus, for though he was a Sardinian, yet I am confident they know him not. But to return unto Pherecides, be pleased to know, that he was not only of an advantageous stature, but also extraordinary handsome, yet of such a beauty, as in his Sex speaks nothing of great and Noble, his complexion was delicate, his eyes grey and tender, the proportion of his face was just, even, and pleasing; but for all this, he had no resemblance of that beauty which is in women, his carriage was high, and though there was an unconceivable sweetness in the air of his countenance, yet there was a kind of sweet austerity also, which rendered him most amiable. Moreover, he had the most lovely head of hair in the world, his locks lay in a thousand round curls without any art, and was of the loveliest brown that ever eye beheld. Pherecides being as I have represented him unto you, adorned with all the ornaments of beauty, and in the Spring of his youth, yet he had neither bashfulness nor timidity, nor overgreat boldness, nor inconsideration: One may say he came knowing into the world, so wisely and gallantly did he behave himself; the tone of his voice was very amiable, and he had this advantage from Nature, that there was in all his action an unexplicable conformity. Moreover, his soul was so noble, his inclinations so sweet, and his heart so tender for his friends, and so full of zeal and fervency to them, as he merited much commendations. Again, he had naturally a pure wit, and he composed Verses so fine, so moving, and so passionate, as it was evident that he had not a neutral soul: The Poetry of the great Therpandres his Uncle, whose reputation was so high, was not more excellent than he; and I am very confident, that never any had a heart more tender in point of friendship, nor more fervent in love then Pherecides; for commonly those who are hot in matters of Love, are cool in matters of friendship, and those who are capable of the most zealous friendship, are seldom so of any violent love: But as for Pherecides, he loved both his Mistress and his friend with unlimited ardency. Moreover, he had one peculiar faculty which was at his hours of jollity, to imitate as excellently and plausibly both, as if he were the very same he represented: But when he exposed himself unto this pastime, it was always in a little company, or in the Palace of Cleomira with Elisa. Again, never could man act both a real gallantry and a counterfeit, nor sigh so fitly as Pherecides; and he had found out the art of making such a miscellany of respect and boldness, by his way of acting with those he loved really, and counterfeiting with those he dissembled, as it was impossible he should be ill-treated: Truth is Madam, I do not think it possible to find a more amiable gallant, nor a more pleasing friend, than he; and I am confident, that if he had lived long, he had been as complete a man as ever was in Phenicia: But Madam, death ravished him from all his friends, in the very Spring of his youth, having the glory of having his Urn bedewed with tears from the fairest eyes, and most illustrious persons in all our Court.  
Lastly Madam, I must speak of Arist●eus, of whose person I need not say much, since you know him; and since he hath been in your presence, it will seem rashness in me to describe his Spirit unto you: But since I Know it to be of vast capacity, and so incomprehensible as you cannot fathom it in so short a time, I think it permittable to speak of it, as if you knew him not at all: Give me leave therefore to tell you Madam, that Arist●eus is illustrious in everything, and is owner of so many rare qualities, as I cannot tell how to rank them into order, but I will show them unto you as well as my memory will permit me; yet it is fit that the qualities of his soul have the first place; and I assure you, that those of Aristheus are such, as answers all that is deniable, for it is great, high, constant, generous and grateful: If from his soul I pass unto his heart, I shall find it full of a thousand excellencies, I shall see a Love of true glory, an infinite goodness and tenderness of his friends, and a solid affection unto virtue; and if from his Heart I ascend again unto his mind, what is not to be found there? So clear, so great, so high, so universally knowing, as I know none comparable unto him, nor know I any thing which he doth not; if he talk of the most sublime, knotty, and uncommune Sciences, he talks as if he never talked of any thing else; if he discourse in matters of Philosophy, he renders himself intelligible unto the very ignorant; if he speak of the Stars, of their situation or elevation, it is as if he knew the way 'twixt earth and heaven, and as if he visited all the houses of the Sun as frequently as those in Tire; if he discourse of the Morals, he will make it apparent he teacheth no more by his words, than he doth by his manners; if he fall upon any Subject concerning the Politics, one would think he had governed the Universe for many years, it being not possible one can imagine, that books without a long experience should infuse so much knowledge; he does not only reason upon public business, but also dives into the Counsels of the deepest secrets; he looks at the causes of the most strange events, and foresees the sequel of things with so much Justice, as it happens very rarely that he is mistaken: If from the Politics we pass to his Poesy, he speaks as if he had taught the Muses, and not they him, for never was any more admireable in that act than he; but the admiration is, he hath reduced that Science into Act; for he hath now composed a Poem, of the birth of the Gods, (and for that reason called it Theogonia) which is a piece so admirable, that since Homer never any attempted so great a work, it is not only great, but also admirable; and those who are able to judge, do say, that he hath observed a better method, with more judgement and better excellency than Homer did. He is Master also of many other rare works, which render his name illustrious, and which are too long to relate, as well as many other qualities which Aristheus knows: For indeed he knows many Languages most perfectly, he knows all good books, he is excellent in History, Geography, and to say all in few words, he is ignorant in nothing; but the greatest wonder of all is, he knows men as well as manners and Sciences, and there was not harshness in his conversation and Spirit, as useth to be in most Scholars; but on the contrary, Aristheus spoke more like a Courtier then a Scholar, he spoke most elegantly, and without affectation, and thought commonly most men who speak much, are accused for speaking too much; yet it was not so with Aristheus, though naturally he loves to talk. Moreover, Aristheus is not of that rigid Sect who scorns the conversation of women, but he is much delighted with them, and would pass away whole afternoons in trifling talk with them, whom he knew could talk of nothing else: He expressed himself and his Gallantries with as good a grace, and perhaps better, than those who are Gallants by profession: 'Tis true, he hath been sometimes blamed for being a little too full of flattery of Ladies, and too universally commending them he spoke unto; but I know this to be a part of so good a principle, as I am none of those who will find any fault for being prodigal of his good Language. Aristheus is so gallant, that sometimes he makes it known that he is in Love with an amiable person, who is a friend of Elisa's, and who so exceedingly resembles the fair Doralisa, as one would take the one for the other, both for her beauty, her wit, and her humours; yet to tell you plainly, I think the heart of Aristheus is only full of tender friendship unto her: But as for matter of Gallantry, I believe he keeps that close in his heart, for he can hide it and show it when he will, and is a most absolute Master of himself: 'Tis true, he does and says a hundred things which may well be taken for a real Love; and I believe the friendship he bears unto others, 〈◊〉 person, has a degree of their heat in it, which is above that he bears 〈…〉 but for all this I cannot think it Love, all I grant is, that the spark why 〈…〉 t, is not altogether friendship: However, this doth produce much 〈…〉 ough 〈◊〉 make the Spirit of Aristheus appear: Some also do upbraid him with the 〈◊〉 affection unto three or four one after another, and yet he cannot endure should any should 〈…〉 d him with inconstancy, but in his own defence he saith, that he 〈…〉 d any o 〈…〉 out of his heart, who once entered into it, and that he only causeed them to 〈…〉 pla 〈…〉 and so without abandoning them, or ceasing to love them, he only relieves the 〈◊〉 place in hi● heart for the best of his friends, who sweetly dispute one with another for an Empire, which assuredly he never gives without good reason: However, this helps out conversation, and makes it more jolly. Moreover, Aristheus is so full of complacence, as he never contradicts any voluntarily; but my greatest wonder at him is, his inclination to enhance the merits of others, and to hide their defects, which makes him so generally known, as none can be better: Indeed we have not a Prince nor a Princess, who do not think themselves honoured in knowing him, and who do not treat him with abundance of civility: And Madam, upon a serious view of Aristheus, I find that he comes either short of a virtue, or else is in the excess, for he is sometimes so extremely modest, as those who very well know his merit, cannot endure it, for he will so reject their commendations, as if he were not worthy, and speaks such things of himself, as it is impossible he should speak as he thinks, since it is not credible, that he should so perfectly know all good qualities in others, and be ignorant of his own excellencies. After this Madam, I believe you will confess, that a man who cannot be blameed for any thing but having too much of a virtue, is a man most extraordinary, and that such a one is no mean contributor unto the pleasures of Cleomira's Palace: Did you but see the divine Cleomira, the adorable Philonida, the fair Anacrisa, the admired Elisa, the generous Megabates, the illustrious Highpriest, the pleasant Clearques, the wise Theodamus, the merry Pherecides, the accomplished Aristheus, and five or six others, worthy of such a company with Phocilion, I am most confident you would be charmed, and confess that Elisa had reason to think greater felicity was in such friends, then in her Lovers. Moreover Madam, It is requisite I let you understand, that all these friends of Elisa did not entertain her with such a kind of friendship as take up with civility, and has so little fervency in it, as it can scarcely be discerned; but on the contrary, it was with a most ardent, zealous, and earnest amity, which showed itself upon all occasions, an amity full of applauds and commendations, which was careful to please and divert, and to speak reasonable, this affection which they all had unto Elisa, might be termed Love without desires, since certainly there was much more in it then ordinary amity, though none of the restless resentments of Love.  
After this Madam, you may easily imagine, that Elisa being continually in Cleomira's Palace, amongst so many accomplished persons, did live in full satisfaction, and was full of complacence, for her austerity had so choked all her Lovers, that they kept distances, and durst not importune her; yet Asiadates in his heart was still full of unruly passions to Elisa, and not daring to testify his Love unto her, he resolved to sweeten the bitterness of his torment, by expressions of his hatred of Lyriope, who endured most insufferable restlessness, that Elisa should rob her of the heart of a Husband, as formerly she had done of a Lover: So that whilst she was innocently enjoying her diversions amongst such and so many illustrious persons, Lyriope was plotting how to ruin her, and so to cure Asiadates of his passion, yet she was a long time before she could contrive the way: But since there is nothing which jealousy cannot invent, Lyriope knowing Asiadates to be ambitious as well as amorous, to try if she could take him off Elisa, resolved to persuade the King to undertake this Conquest, conceiving that Asiadates durst not be a Rival to his Master. Since she had her education with the Queen, and was of the same age with the King, she had great familiarity with him, for there was always a great friendship between this young Prince and her. Moreover, since he never yet knew what Love meant, she thought it not impossible but her design might hit, and the sooner, because she divers times heard him commend Elisa very highly: So that making use of this favourable inclination which she saw he had unto the thing he desired, she contrived it so cunningly, that she engaged the King one day unto a long conference with her; and seeming to be infinitely zealous for his glory and interest, she persuaded him that there was no better subject for it, than this thing which she had to impart. This Prince being very desirous to know her meaning, desired her to tell him sincerely what it was; Lyriope seeing so fit an opportunity, did close with it: Then she began to applaud him to the Skies, and to counterfeit a bashfulness which seemed natural; she told him that which doubtless she never would, i● her jealousy had not been above her reason: I must confess Sir (said she unto him blushing, and holding her hand before her eyes, as if she would not have him see what she desired he should) that your commands do perplex me, for I must tell you, that which indeed handsomeness forbids me, and yet that which my duty tells me you ought to Know: S 〈…〉 I am confident of your sincerity, (replied this young Prince) I conjure you to tell me what it is: Know then Sir, said she unto him, that the only fault which can be found in you is, that you are a little too solitary, and reserved, and seem as if you were a hater of civil conversation, but especially the conversation of Ladies; your Enemies speak a little broad, and say, it is a sign your heart is not sensible of those services which they render you, and that you banish yourself and them from the pleasures of the Court; and that which is worse, they interest the people in their reasonings, saying, that those Kings who are lovers of magnificency, feasts▪ music, and glorious Gallantries, do enrich them in their trades; whereas on the contrary, those who are of other humours do impoverish them; So that the herd of people being capable of any impression whatsoever, this report begins to spread itself throughout all ●ire, and will ere long through all Phenicia; therefore Sir, I conceive it would be very well, if you quitted your serious business, sometimes to spend some hours in discourse with Ladies; and to stop the mouths, I know not whether it were not best of all for you to seem as if you were in love with some beauty or other, but I would have her such a one whom you may quit when you please, when you have stifled these odd reports which are raised among the people.  
The King hearing Lyriope deliver her thoughts with such expressions of zeal to his service, never examined the truth of her words, nor did at all doubt it: So that seeming to credit her advice, he thanked her for giving it: And to testify unto you, said he unto her, that I am none of those who will hear of their faults and not correct them, I will put my heart into your hands, dispose of it as you please, for I do protest unto you, it was never yet any ones but my own, I have eyes Lyriope which can distinguish beauty; but I must confess they never loved with any violence of passion: Sir, replied Lyriope, I would advise you not to be too liberal of so precious a Jewel: Dissemble the matter (said she and laughed) and counterfeit Love: But I pray, said he, assist me in the choice of her with whom you would have me dissemble: Then was Lyriope extremely nonplussed; for though she wished the King to dissemble a love to Elisa, when she was at the very point of naming her, envy and jealousy did so sparkle in her heart, that it began to beat, her colour changed, and she stayed a while with her mouth half open before she could pronounce the name of Elisa, to persuade the King unto a choice of her for the object of that feigned passion which she would advise him to assume. Lyriope hath since reported, that she was in pitiful perplexity at that time; and indeed it is easily to be imagined, that envy and jealousy contesting in her heart, did put it into a strange disorder: On the one side she saw that she might do a great honour to Elisa whom she hated; on the other side, she might spite Asiadates, and extinguish a passion which disturbed her tranquillity: But though jealousy was powerful in her Spirit, yet she had not overcome her envy, had she not phancied much happiness to herself, if this project could wean him from the love of Elisa; for as it is ordinary for envy to make those partial who are possessed with it, Lyriope began to think Elisa not so handsome as she was, and never to think that the King would fall really in Love with her; so that the tumultuous turbulence of her soul beginning to calm upon a sudden, she named Elisa unto the King: But she had no sooner named her, than this Prince cried out, Oh Elisa (said he unto her) Certainly you have read my very heart, Elisa being she who of all the Ladies in the world best pleaseth me, and with whom I can with least pain seem to be in Love. Lyriope hearing the wind in that corner, began to tell the King (her envy growing stronger than her jealousy) that she should be extremely sorry, if she should kindle a real passion in his soul, and therefore she would dissuade him from the choice of Elisa, since he had a greater inclination to love her then any other, but her labour was in vain, she could not quench what she had kindled, nor change the King's mind; at last she resolved to stand unto her first principle. Thus it was on all sides resolved, that the King should seem to be Elisa's servant. Since this Feast of Neptune was to be celebrated within two days, a sit occasion of expressing his gallantry did offer itself, such a one as would make all Phenicia his witnesses. In the mean time, Elisa knew nothing how Lyriope plotted against the tranquillity of her life, but enjoyed a thousand innocent delights in Cleomira's Palace, finding more contentation in the conversation of her friends, than ever she could in the multitude of her Lovers. Ph●cilion also, as amorous as he was, did not think himself altogether miserable, though he was not loved so well as he would be, for he had the consolation to hope that none would ever be more happy than himself: Poligenes and Agenor had an infinite esteem of her still, since reason and despair had cured them of their Love to her; but as for Asiadates, he was still in most horrible torment, the violence of his passion was without any hope, he received a thousand affronts and checks from Elisa; neither Lyriopes jealousy nor his own, would permit him any rest, yet were his sorrows much augmented upon the Feast day of Neptune: For the King in prosecution of his intended design, applied himself to commend and Court Elisa more than any other, and to speak high in her advantage: He took her out to dance at a Ball which was kept at the Court, and made such applications to her, as that the next morning the general noise was all over Tire, that the King was in love with Elisa: But Madam imagine with what a restless soul Lyriope did pass over the day of this Feast: For my part, who by chance was next her the same night that this pretended Love of the King made the greatest flame, I must confess that I never saw any thing more equally carried in my life; for though I did not then know the true cause of Lyriopes changing countenance, nor did I imagine that envy only was the cause of it, yet did I observe all passages, I saw Lyriope look sometimes upon the King, sometimes upon Elisa, sometimes upon Asiadates, and sometimes upon nothing, though her eyes were open, but stood in a most profound musing, I perceived her pronounce some words sometimes half aloud, and perceiving her own error would restrain herself. As for Asiadates, I heard him say, that never man was such a sufferer as himself, when he saw the King become his Rival; for though he never was in the least hope of Elisa's love, yet was he as much grieved at it, as if that Prince had taken from him the heart of Elisa, or hindered him from enjoying her: As for Phocilion, he also was troubled at it, but his was with a mixture of some tranquillity, and the more, because he did not conceive that Elisa's eyes would ever be dazzled at any grandeur, since she was used to treat Princes and Subjects all alike, and was so far from being startled at Majesty, that she slighted it: But Madam, the rarest part of this encounter was, that the King had not talked above three words to Elisa, but he was was really in Love with her, and in as high a degree as possible could be; yet was this Conquest no joy unto Elisa, but on the contrary it troubled her: Yet to draw some good out of a thing which she looked upon as evil, she employed all the credit she had over the Spirit of this Prince, to dispose it unto virtue, unto which he had already much inclination; and indeed it may be justly said, that all Phenicia was beholding unto Elisa, for a thousand excellent things which she infused into the soul of this young Prince. In the mean time, Feasts, Musics, and all delights were more in use at the Court then ever; and though Elisa, since the King's love, did more affect solitude, and appeared in sight less than ordinary, but carried it, as if she would let the Court see that she was no way contributory unto the love of this young Prince, nor rejoiced at all in the Conquest, yet it was impossible that she should not be present at these great assemblies, whereof she was the cause, yet she transacted so wisely, that without incensing the King, she persuaded him, that all he was to expect from her, was respect and acknowledgement; and that such acknowledgement only, as should be locked up in her heart without any other outward expressions, then wishing his glory, and the happiness of his reign: And indeed this Prince (who was not of his Father's inclinations) did love Elisa with a most pure flame. In the mean time, Lyriope found herself extremely mistaken in her opinion, that the King's love to Elisa would quench the flames of Asiadates; for on the contrary, he seeing his choice authorized by the Kings, his flames were hotter, and he began to scorn and slight Lyriope much more; on the other side, this envious woman seeing the King did really love Elisa, and that loving her as he did, it was very glorious unto her, she thought how she should quench those flames which she had kindled, endeavouring to persuade this Prince, that if he did love Elisa in earnest, he would lose himself in the minds of the people more than by his indifferency and reservedness, but her second persuasions were not so prevalent as her first: So that giving allowance unto his violent and respective passion, he Courted the esteem of Elisa, and endeavoured to merit it by a thousand acts of Justice, Clemency, and Liberality, knowing well, that the only way to win upon her was by such solid virtues, yet this did not at all hinder his gallantries. In the mean time Elisa, though she was naturally inclined unto good deeds, yet she would never ask any thing of the King which might be any subject of obligation; so that she was in imaginable credit with the King, and would not make any use of it, for she kept herself close unto her Maxim, which was to shun all obligations unto a Lover. In the interim, the King's Love being truly grounded, his heart was all in a flame with the thoughts upon Elisa, so that he transacted nothing without imparting it unto her, he consulted with her in matters of greatest importance; and though the modesty of Elisa obliged her to refuse those honours which he did her, yet he still continued to ask of her those counsels which she still denied: This Prince was so respective, as not to term his affection Love when he talked to her, but only to name it esteem, friendship, and a most violent passion: He endured her to deny him a thousand trivial things, which she might well have granted unto his Quality, without any injury unto her virtue; and indeed she denied him leave to have her picture taken, with a strange repulse; and and though there were a hundred of Elisa's pictures at Tire, yet since they were taken in the life of Straton, and since she would never suffer any to be taken since she was Mistress of herself, they did not perfectly resemble her, for she was much fairer than all those Pictures: However, he could not by any Rhetoric persuade her unto so much complacence; yet this her refusal did rather augment then diminish his passion, as it may evidently appear by the adventure of this her Statue: For be pleased to know, that this young King having finished a great Gallary, which the last King his Father began to build, his fancy was to place in it two rows of the Statues of Women, and to make his choice out of all the beauties in his Court: For there being then at Tire many of the Disciples of Dipoenus and Scillis, he conceived it an easy matter to effect his design, which he principally intended unto the eternal memory of his Love to Elisa, by placing her figure in the highest part of this Gallery; So that all the Carvers and Ingravers of any reputation were set in work; but the choice of the most excellent among them, being employed to make the Statue of Elisa, yet he could not make it, all his art could not represent that vivacity which was in her looks and action, nor that high air of beauty which was in every part: For my part, I am persuaded, their overgreat desire of doing it to the life, did hinder them, for all the rest did most lively and exactly represent the persons for whom they were intended: The Statue of Cleomira was admirable, that of Philonida could not be better, that of Anacrisa was excellent, and chance would have it, that all were very well but Elisa's, which was very ill: I cannot easily express how the King was vexed at it; so that, as you know, upon such an occasion every one will strive how to please the King, some or other told him, ●hat he knew how he might get a most admireable Statue of Elisa: This was no sooner said, but the King was extremely earnest to know how: After which, he was told, that the most rare Statue of Elisa, which Dipoenus and Scillis made, and which they carried away after the death of the late King his Father, was in the hands of Croessus, and that it was probable he would restore it, paying what it cost.  
This advice was no sooner given then followed, and the sooner, because those who had seen this Statute, assured the King that it resembled Elisa more now, then when it was made for her: And the truth is, 〈…〉 ipoenus and Scillis aimed to represent Elisa, rather as they imagined she would be, then as she was at that time, especially in her stature, for she being then very young, it was imagineable she would grow. In the mean time, Love being a passion which will not admit of long deliberation upon such things as may give it satisfaction, this amorous Prince sent unto Croessus a little before the War, to ask of him the same favour which the illustrious Cyrus hath granted, but he was obstinately denied: So that the King of Phenicia making no doubt but to obtain what he asked, was exceedingly surprised to understand at the return of his Ambassador, that the King of Lydia had denied him: He did so little question the happy success of his design, that he made a most stately Pedestal to place this Statue upon, and he set up all the rest of the Statues where they were to stand; but it so grieved him that he had not this of Elisa's, as he locked up the Gallery, and would not suffer any ever since to enter.  
This Madam was the state of things during the War, to wit, The King was still in love with Elisa, with a most unconceivable respect: Elisa continues still as insensible as fair and virtuous, Asiadates still loving her even unto fury, Lyriope still hating her with as much animosity, as envy and jealousy could invent, Phocilion still adoring her without hope, and all the world esteeming her according to her merit, not excepting either Poligenes or Agenor: And most certainly she merited all the reputation which she had, for there was never any whose virtue was put unto more difficult proofs than hers.  
This Madam was the state of the King's love to Flisa, when the Fame of all the Victories of the illustrious Cyrus in Lydia, was blazed in our Court, but especially in the Palace of Cleomira: For since there was no place in the world where the renown of all illustrious Heroes was celebrated, as in that; the valour and all the virtues of Cyrus was the ordinary discourse of Cleomira, Philon●da, Anacrisa, Elisa, Megabates, and the Highpriest of Sidon, Clearques, Theodamus, Pherecides, Aristheus, Phocilion, and all the rest, whose Rendezvouz was at Cleomira's Palace, where I had the honour also to be admitted.  
I remember one Evening amongst the rest, when news was brought that Croessus had lost the Battle, and the illustrious Cyrus had gotten it, it was the most pleasing and agreeable night that ever I enjoyed, War and Love was the subject of all their discourse; the victory of Cyrus, and his love to the Princess Mandana, did furnish them with subject sufficient: Megabates and Aristheus had some disputes concerning the policies of Croessus; but the pleasant humour of Clearques, and of Pherecides, made them change their discourse; for since it was probable Sardis would be suddenly besieged, they told Elisa, that she would ere long be a Captive unto Cyrus, meaning her Statue which was there; but she answered them, that she had much rather be a Slave to Cyrus, than a prisoner unto Croessus.  
Then passing insensibly from one discourse unto another, and the King of Pontus his keeping the Princess Mandana in the Citadel of Sardis, being the subject of their discourse, Pherecides asked Clearques, whether he had rather be always as the King of Pontus is, or always as the illustrious Cyrus is? That choice is easily made (replied Clearques) For I had rather be in the head of a victorious Army, able to win battles, take Towns, and conquer Kingdoms, then to be mewed up in a Castle without either Army, authority, or a Crown: You take not the question as I intent it, replied Pherecides, for I ask you in general terms, which you think the more unhappy, him who cannot see the person whom he loves, being certain she loves him, and knowing her to be continually under the eye of his Rival, or else him who sees her every day, hath her in his power, but cannot move her heart: There is no difficulty in answering this question neither, replied learques, for since one doth not love but to be loved, doubtless than I should choose to be so, yet upon better thoughts I should not much love, to have my Rival always with my Mistress, especially not being there myself: Confess then, said Pherecides, that the choice which I put you unto is not so easily made: I had rather confess, replied he, that I would neither choose the one nor the other of these conditions, for in the humour I am in, I love to see her whom I love, and love not to see her who loves me not: Since you love disputation, replied Cleomira, you have a very good occasion of it: If I were as able to come off well as Megabates is, replied he, I should not let such an occasion slip. Clearques had no sooner said so, but all the company looked upon Megabates as the moderator; and indeed after he had answered Clearques, that his re●trality and indifferency unto all that concerned him not, caused his condescendency unto the opinion of another, he began to maintain, that he whose Mistress loved him, and never saw her, also knew his Rival with her continually, did suffer more than he whose Mistress loved him not, and he saw her continually: Yet, added he, though I very well apprehend the rigid sufferings of this absent Lover, who of necessity must needs be jealous, yet it is so very natural to desire the being loved, that in the choice of these two evils, I had rather choose that which the illustrious Cyrus endures, then to be exposed unto the King of Pontus his sufferings: After this all the company parted, every one maintaining that side which they had chosen, with so much wit and conceit, as never was conversation more sprightly and pleasant. Now Madam to finish my relation, give me leave to tell you, That the King coming unto Cleomira's at the end of this conference, it was there where he had his first thought of sending to offer his alliance unto the illustrious Cyrus, and to demand the Statue of Elisa, if Sardis was taken: And indeed Madam, he no sooner had intelligence that this Town was besieged, but never doubting the taking of it, since it was undertaken by a Prince, whose valour nothing ever could resist, but he dispatched this Ambassador with whom I came, whom Aristheus desired to accompany with many others, only out of curiosity to see the most illustrious Cyrus, whose Conquests are greater than those of Elisa, and whose glory is spread over all the earth.  
Telamis having ended his relation, left all the company extremely satisfied with him, for making so many excellent persons known unto them, and for relating the history of Elisa, whose rare virtue, as well as beauty, filled them with admiration: But Cyrus had no sooner told Telamis modestly, that he might well have spared all his applauds of him: Then Aristheus, according to his promise returned, but returned so changed, and with a countenance so full of melancholy, that Cyrus was surprised; So that being very impatient to know the cause of this sudden alteration, he began to press him unto a relation of what it was: Alas Sir, (said he with extreme sorrow) whosoever should have told me when I went from hence, that it should be I who should relate the end of Elisa's life unto you, I should never have believed it; yet you see me here in a sad condition, able to relate the sad story of her death unto you? How, (cried out Telamis out of his sad apprehension) is Elisa dead? I hope, said Cyrus, we did not understand your words well: I would I could tell you otherwise Sir, replied Aristheus: But alas, it is too true that Elisa is dead, and dead in so glorious a manner, that her death was suitable to her life, and I cannot do her a more glorious office, then to move you unto some sighs by relating it. Since Telamis is silent, pursued Aristheus, I suppose he hath finished the relation of her life, until our departure from Tire, and consequently you know that Asiadates continued still his violent affection to her, although the King became his Rival, and that Lyriope was still both jealous and envious. Now I understand by one of my friends who hath brought this sad news unto me, that all these several passions are still augmented, and he assures me, that the King's love of Elisa is grown to that height, as that he looks upon her as to be Queen of Phenicia: So that Asiadates fearing that Elisa will be enjoyed by another, resented it beyond all imagination, and resolved to ruin the King's design at what rate soever; So that making his ambition to serve his love, he began to plot with some malcontents, whereof the beds of Kings were always filled, hoping that if he could raise a Party in the State, and himself not seen in it, he might perhaps cure the King of his passion, by being busied in dissipating that faction which he had raised: On the other side, Lyriope seeing the power of Elisa so great with the King, she began to be more envious than jealous, and began to plot how she might deliver herself from these two Spirits which did continually torment her, though she employed all the unjust means in the world to effect her design. Since inhumanity goes against the hair of her Sex, she did not at the first think upon the applying of extreme remedies: But seeing that the King's love did daily increase, and that Asiadates was more and more violent in his passions, that he did treat her worse and worse; and considering that if the King should marry Elisa, she should then be a subject unto her who had taken from her the heart both of a Lover and a husband, also unto one whom she ever hated, though she had no other reason for it, but because she was fairer than herself: I say Lyriope considering all these things, she resolved upon a most horrid course, which was, to find out some way or other how to take away the beauty of Elisa, thinking thereby to take away the cause of all her miseries, in damping the love of the King, and the love of Asiadates: So that without further delay, she conspired with an Arabian Physician, who was then at Tire, and whose reputation in point of honesty was not over good, and hiring him by rich rewards, he promised her what she desired, but he had much ado to keep his word; for since Elisa never used any adulterations of art to help her beauty, he could not find out any means to blast her complexion by any exterior things: So that this man at the earnest instigation of Lyriope, who would not let him rest, resolved since he could not do it otherwise, to take away the beauty of Elisa, by taking away her health by a kind of subtle powder, which had a quality so malignant, as it would make all those who took it to grow very sick within a few days, by causing a kind of a Fever, and it had ordinarily such a quality, as in the operation it would so burn the blood, as they would not be knowable: So that Elisa being often very ill, though to outward appearance she seemed to be in excellent health, it was an easy thing for this Arabian Physician to find out ways of suborning him who commonly carried medicines unto Elisa, he did it so cunningly, as that he did not seem to suborn him to commit a crime, for he only seemed to be very desirous of seeing wLat remedies the Tyrian Physicians used unto persons of such a temper as Elisa's: So that being showed several things which she was to take, he mingled (unseen to him that showed them) this dangerous powder, which had such a fatal operation, and fatal indeed, for whether the Doctor was mistaken in his composition, or that the temper of Elisa was too delicate for it, the very next morning after she took this powder, the Fever took her, and so extreme violently, as she said at first that she was dead; but she spoke it with such incredible constancy of mind, as was admirable, seeming so little desirous of life, or fear of death, that she surprised all the bystanders; yet she testified much tenderness unto her friends, but it was a most generous and magnanimous tenderness which was not expressed by tears, or giving any marks of weakness: I leave you to imagine how Elisa's sickness troubled the King, and how all the Court grieved, but especially Cleomira, and all those who commonly were with her.  
All helps from Physicians were in vain, for not knowing the cause of her disease, they could not cure her. In the mean time Asiadates, who was upon the point of letting the faction which he had raised to appear, thought now of nothing but Elisa's health: So that those who were engaged in the Faction, admired to see he would meddle no more: As for the Kings, all intelligence that any designs were against his estate, were never harkened unto, for since the life of Elisa was in danger, he could not think of preserving any thing else: As for Lyriope, since envy and lealousie had rooted out of her soul all thoughts of virtue, she was very glad to see that in all likelihood she should be rid of Elisa, whom she looked upon as the cause of all her misfortunes: As for Phocilion, he was unknowable, and never man was in a more sad condition: But the wonder was, that this powder, which according to the intention of the composer, was to take away the beauty of Elisa, and not her life, did take away her life and not her beauty; for never any breathing was fairer than she was when she was expiring. In the mean time, to employ her last hours as well as the rest of her life (after all Physicians declared her desperate) she gave the King most generous and divine advice, exhorting him to be just, clement, liberal, to love his people, never to let himself be governed by his passions; afterwards most excellent counsel unto her friends, speaking unto them with wonderful resolution and generosity, disposing several things unto them as pledges of her friendship bequeathed unto them: After this, desiring they would speak no more unto her, but of the Gods, the chief Priest of Sidon stayed with her; yet his excessive sorrow to see Elisa in so sad a condition, would not permit him to enjoy the freedom of his reason; but yet the reason of this fair, generous, and divine person was so quick and free; that she did comfort him, and inspired him with power to speak such things unto her, as he had not been able to do, if she had not revived him by her constancy and resolution: But why should I lengthen this sad story? Elisa died as she lived, which was with abundance of glory, and in looking death in the grim face with as much courage, as the greatest Hero in the most dangerous and most glorious occasions. I will not go about to represent the sorrows of the King, for I cannot express them; but I can tell you, that the despair of Phocilion was so great, as he died three days after Elisa; yet this is not the most surprising thing which I have to tell you, for be pleased to know, that Asiadates intending not only to abandon his designs, but the Court also, as he was ready to depart, and passing from one Chamber into another, he heard Lyriope by chance thanking the Arabian Doctor for something, extreme earnestly, though she did not speak aloud: So that upon a sudden suspecting the truth, since the cause of Elisa's death could not be known, he went unto them, and being of a violent temper, he did so black them by his sudden approach and by his menaces, that finding something more to fortify his suspicion, he called for his men, caused the Physician to be arrested, who would have escaped, and without more delay, caused him to be so tormented, as he confessed the whole truth, which he no sooner knew, but he went unto the Chamber of Lyriope to run her through with his Sword, but she was already escaped, but yet she did not escape the Justice of the Gods, for the Boat into which she had gotten at the Port of Sinope with one of her women only, was overturned by rushing against another, so that Lyriope was drowned, and in one minute punished for all the extravagancies of her passions. Asiadates could not punish the Arabian Doctor, for since he ever used to carry poison about him, he took it, to avoid the shame and punishment.  
Thus the violent Asiadates was all fury and despair, after he knew the true cause of Elisa's death. In the mean time, the King made a most magnificent Funeral for this wonder of women, all the Court was in mourning as well as himself, the Highpriest of Sidon writ her Epitaph, all the refined wits of Phenicia did write in her glory, the King is causing a most sumptuous Tomb to be erected, and Elisa is lamented, as one of the most admirable women that ever lived: After all this, there is not a day wherein all her friends do meet, but they condole and celebrate her name with tears and sighs, striving to make their illustrious friend to revive by their discourse, and Eulogies which they made to eternize her memory. But to let you see Sir (said Aristheus, addressing himself unto Cyrus) how all humane wisdom is limited; and to incite your Noble heart unto pity, be pleased to know, that the King of Phenicia not doubting but that you would accord unto his demand, hath designed a Tomb to be made for Elisa after such a fashion; that the Statue which you will restore, and which should have been the ornament of his Gallary, shall be placed upon the top of this stately Sepulchre.  
Aristheus closing up his Speech with a deep sigh, he did communicate his sorrows unto all his illustrious Auditors, all whom had extreme compassion upon the lamentable destiny of Elisa, and did participate in the sorrows of Aristheus and Telamis: Doralisa herself, as hardhearted as she was, did find a compliment as sorrow for Aristheus; after which all the company parted, and mourned for Elisa: Cyrus collected this consolation from the misfortunes of another, that he was forced to confess unto himself, the King of Phenicia was more unfortunate in his passion then himself, though he was always accustomed to think himself the most unfortunate Lover in the world.   
The end of the first Book.   

ARTAMENES, OR The Grand CYRUS. The Seventh Part. BOOK. II.  
Cyrus was no sooner returned to the Citadel, but his sorrows assumed fresh forces to torment him, caused by the sight of all these happy lovers about him, for whose felicity he had yet taken so much care; not but that he was ever a zealous wisher of their happiness; but comparing the state of their Fortunes with his own, it was impossible but he should sigh to see the difference betwixt the one and the other; though he did confess unto himself, that he was less miserable than the King of Phenicia, yet he said also, that he was more unfortunate than all those about him, but he said it with such sensibility of sorrow, that had Mandana known the agony of his heart, she would have chased all unjust jealousy out of her own; for it is most certain, that never man did know how to love so perfectly as Cyrus. In the mean time, the Phenician Ambassador knowing the King his Master to be in such a sad condition, and having nothing else to do at Sardis, prepared for his departure, carrying the Statue of Elisa with him, which Cyrus did accompany with Presents, much more magnificent than those he received: He writ also a Letter of thanks unto the King of Phenicia, for the thirty thousand men which he offered, desiring him to furnish out in exchange of those men as many Ships as he could for a secret design which he had imparted unto his Ambassador and Aristheus. Thus all the Phoenicians, except Aristheus, departed infinitely satisfied with Cyrus: As for Aristheus, he stayed still with this Prince for three reasons; the first, because the Ambassador of Phenicia and himself conceiving it would be advantageous unto their King to hold a good correspondency with so great a Conqueror, they resolved it to be expedient one should remain with him to ●iment the friendship betwixt them: The second was, because indeed Aristheus was so charmed with the virtue of Cyrus, that he was desirous to be a longer admirer of him: And the third was the death of Elisa, which having grieved him unto the very soul, he was not willing to return unto the place where he had seen her so often, and was never to see her again; and though he did dearly love one of Elisa's friends, yet he resolved to endure this absence, especially since Doralisa did so very much resemble her, as that one of them did com●ort him in the absence of the other.  
Thus the Phenician Ambassador departed, and Aristheus stayed: Also within a few days after, the equipage of Sesostris and Timaretta being in a readiness, those two illustrious persons departed from Cyrus, to return into Egypt, leaving behind them so many charmed with their merit, and affectionate unto their interests, as they all did make a thousand prayers for their felicity: The Princess of Phrigia, and the Princess Timaretta, did bid adieu in the language of sighs, and all the Ladies of the Palace of Croessus were melted into tears: As for Sesostris, he expressed much sorrow to leave Cyrus before he had released Mandana, and in acknowledgement of the obligations he had unto him, for restoring unto him his dear Timaretta, and for saving his life, he left his Troops with him, and promised to oblige Amasis to send him others. Cyrus' for his part gave this generous Prince the most obliging language in the world, himself waiting upon the Princess Timaretta half a day's journey from Sardis, where they took their last adieus; both Sesostris and Timaretta did carry themselves so admirably well, and spoke in such a noble manner, that it was not imagineable they ever were a Shepherd and Shepherdess: Cyrus also sent many persons of quality to conduct them unto their Ship which waited for them, having given unto Timaretta as many servants as she could have had, if she were at Thebes or Memphis.  
After the departure of Sesostris and Timaretta, the restlessness of Cyrus augmented, nor could he endure any conversation, but where Mandana was the subject of their discourse: Mazares for his part, he was still in a continual turbulence of thoughts, he employed all his virtues to hinder himself from hating his Rival, and loving his Mistress. As for Croessus, what joys soever he had at his being seated again on the throne: yet he every day had some apprehensions of the difference between a vassal or tributary Kings, and a Sovereign or Independent Majesty: As for Myrsiles, Love did more torment him then ambition, and his not daring to speak unto Doralisa of his Love, was insupportable: yet he did so much fear to incense that cruel hearted Lady, as he shuned her presence, though it was a hell unto him to be where she was not. In the mean time the Prince Artamas, and all those happy Lovers whose sorrows were changed into joys, they now had no other grief but in behalf of Cyrus, who indeed did merit their pity, both in consideration of his high deserts, and his great misfortunes. Some days being passed over in continual turbulence of Spirit, the sorrows of Cyrus redoubled; for he understood that Harpagus, who had orders from him, to bring back the Army which aided Thrasibulus to conquer his Domidions, was taken by the chief Officers of his Troops, and the matter was grown unto that height, as that they were divided into two parties, and came to blows; that there was many of them killed, and that those who did not perish in the business, not daring to appear before him, were almost all disbanded, reports flying that most of the Soldiers were gone into Cumes, whose Prince was said to arm very fast and strongly. Cyrus also understood that Harpagus, in lieu of keeping his Troop in exact Discipline, did permit them all imagineable liberty; so that the Xanthians and the Caunians, though they were very well satisfied with Cyrus at the return of their Ambassadors, yet not finding effects answerable unto words, they were revolted, and had entered into league both offensive and defensive with the Prince of Cumes, who was levying a formidable Army. Cyrus therefore understanding, that he had lost an Army, and that his Rival did daily fortify himself, he was extremely grieved; but that which made his sorrows most insupportable was, that he could do nothing without Ships, and that it was not possible to procure them as soon as he desired. In the mean time, the season of the year for war went on apace, especially for a siege, which required a Navy, and the approaching Winter was not fit for it. But not enduring to be shut up in a Town whilst he had any Enemy, at the field, he resolved to look out a good distance from Sardis, though he durst not look towards Cumes, nor seem to know that the Princess was there, until he had a Navy.  
After h● had communicated this resolution unto Mazares, and those unto whom he used to impart his secrets, he gave orders for every thing accordingly: He left a considerable Garrison in the Citadel of Sardis; Croessus and Myrsiles prepared to follow him: The King of Phrigia, whose health was much impaired, was forced to obey Cyrus, who willed him to return unto Apamea, and carry thither with him his fair Daughter the Princess Palmis: As for the Prince Artamas, he would not leave him, do what he could.  
Thus all this glorious Court broke up: But to see how Cyrus was loved of all who knew him; Ligdamis, Trasimedes, Menecrates, Parmenides, and Philistion, though they were almost uxorious Husbands, yet they quitted their new married Wives to follow this Prince unto the Wars, though he was very willing to dispense with them. Thus Licasta returned unto Patara with all her company, carrying also Arpalice with her, until the return of Thrasimedes: Candiope took upon her the charge of the fair Androclea unto the end of the Wars, where Lisias her Brother also was, and wanting none but Menophiles, the Husband of Licasta to conduct them, though Cyrus sent a guard with them. Cleomira also returned unto Ephesus with her Mother, and all the rest of her friends, and all the Beauties parted with much sorrow. Thus in the last three days that Cyrus was at Sardis, there was none left in the Palace but Doralisa, Pherenice, and Araminta; and they having no mind to stay there, they went unto an Aunt of Doralisa's. Then during the last three days, Cyrus went to visit Araminta, to talk with her concerning his dearest Mandana, Myrsiles went to see Doralisa, to testify his love unto her, and Aristheus did also visit her in way of friendship, and to take the same delight in her person and spirit, which he used to admire in another: As for Cyrus, his discourse with Araminta was upon nothing but his Princess: Sometimes he would make her relate unto him, how she behaved herself towards the King of Assiria, when she was in Babylon and Sinope; afterwards to tell him, how she carried herself to the King of Pontus at Susa and at Sardis: Though he knew all these things before, yet he thought that the time which could not be employed in the service of Mandana, aught to be spent in talking of her: As for the Prince Myrsiles, since he was upon his departure from Doralisa, he must needs once more express his affection to her, but though his design was so, yet as soon as he came to her his confidence had almost failed him, for he perceived in Doralisa's countenance such unquiet frowns, as he took them for ill Omens, and caused him to be silent, which did no less perplex Doralisa then his language had, because she imagined by the disorder of his soul, that if no company came in, he would begin to talk of that which she had no mind to hear of; yet to prevent him, she asked a hundred questions far off the business she suspected he would speak of: At the first the Prince Myrsiles answered unto them, but being at last tired with such and so many frivolous and impertinent questions, I beseech you Doralisa, said he unto her, leave ask me such questions, as neither concerns your interest nor mine, and give me leave to ask you some questions, which shall much import my tranquillity, that you answer and answer favourably: To answer then Sir, replied she, I do promise you I will, but I will not engage myself to answer favourably, before I know what you will ask: I desire you to tell me sincerely, said he unto her, whether it be that natural austerity which is always in your Physiognomy, or whether you reject my affection, out of some aversion which you have to me? I beseech you (added he) give me leave to speak with the same freedom which you use unto your most faithful friends: Lassure you Sir, (said Doralisa and interrupted him) that if I tell you nothing but what I tell my best friends, I shall not tell you any great secrets, since I do not love to open myself unto any, nor do know any thing which I less understand, than this trick of confidence, which lays open all motions of the heart, all the thoughts of the mind, and all the resentments of the soul unto those that would know them; for I am persuaded, that they use very often to say they think and resent such things as they did never think upon, or apprehend: For my part, I do confess, I am not of this humour; and let me tell you Sir, that they who would know my thoughts must guests at them, or know them by my actions, without any obliging me to tell them precisely what they are, for I will never be engaged to search into the bottom of my heart, nor will I take so much pains myself as to know what I think: For indeed (said she, to prevent the Prince Myrsiles from speaking to her) I have often found in myself, that I have had some friends whom I loved more than I thought to have loved, and also some other persons whom I hated more than I thought I did: Ah Doralisa, (said this Prince) I fear that I am not of this last order: But I beseech you, if it be so, let me directly know it, that I may regulate the course of my life, according unto those thoughts you have of me: Hatred Sir, replied Doralisa, is a thought which I ought not to entertain of a Prince, whose subject I am like to be: But Sir, to take the most rational course, be pleased to conceive of me as one that cannot love any: This Sir I conceive to be the only way conducing unto your tranquillity and my own; yet notwithstanding (added she) I do not intend to throw off that respect which I owe you; but on the contrary, will be more observant of you then ever: Respect indeed (replied Myrsiles) ought to be an inseparable companion of all a Lovers actions; but yet it is the most injurious word that any Lover can hear from the mouth of her he loves: One may respect his Master, or his Tyrant, but to respect an amorous Slave, ah Doralisa, there is no example for this: This word respect, which you have pronounced, is only used as an umbrage unto that hatred or aversion of a man, whose capricious fortune rather than reason, hath set him above her whom he loves: But Sir, I beseech you, (said Doralisa) Do not you know that you are the King of Lidia's Son? Doubtless you would forget it, if you did but know how much I am your Slave, as I wish you did: For since when I am in your presence, I forget what I really am, and think myself nothing unless your Lover, methinks you might do the like, and look upon me as I would have you: The Gods preserve me Sir, replied Doralisa sharply, from doing as you say; for if I should look now upon you as my Lover, and not as the King of Lidia's Son, I should give most tart language, I should forbid you ever to see me, and I should most horribly hate you: But I hope Doralisa, (said this amorous Prince) you would not hate me. Since I have said it before I was aware (replied Doralisa with a most scornful and indifferent smile) I will not unsay it again: But Sir (said she and blushed for anger) there is a vast interval between hatred and love: So I were but in a state of indifferency, answered he, I should not despair of my happiness, but should still hope: Of all the thoughts, which the passion whereof you speak (replied she) can infuse into the heart of a Lover, there is not one methinks so offensive unto the person Love, as hope is; therefore Sir, I would advise you, never to entertain it: What then, replied he, would you have me do? I would have you, if this word be not too free (replied she) never to tell me again of this which I ought not to understand, nor will give any ear unto without extreme anger: For the truth is Sir, I am of such a Spirit, as though I did not hate a man who loved me, yet I would never have him tell me of it: There is nothing in the world so tyreth my patience as a Lovers talk, I beseech you judge then, whether I ought to suffer you to speak as you do; therefore Sir regulate your mind, that you may regulate your language; and let me rejoice at the glory which you will get in the War, and not make me hate you at your return: To enable me unto the acquisition of glory (replied he) and to think of any return, I had need hope for more of your esteem, and to find you less severe at my return then when I leave you. As they were thus in discourse, Cyrus and Aristheus entered, who coming from bidding adieu unto Arianita, came also to make his last visit unto Doralisa, who received the honour with as much respect as joy. This amiable Lady was exceedingly grieved to see him so unfortunate, and wished earnestly for a period unto all his miseries, and for the liberty of Mandana, which was the whole subject of their discourse.  
Since every hour seemed an Age unto Cyrus, till he was in the head of an Army, his visit was not long; but since he did not know that the Prince Myrsiles was in Love with Doralisa, he did him an ill office, for he carried that Prince away with him, to talk upon something which he would have the King his Father do, before he went from Sardis. Thus was Doralisa delivered from a vexatious visit, not but that she did extremely esteem the Prince Myrsiles, but it was because there was such natural austerity in her heart, as was opposite unto all kind of Gallantries, and certainly it was a most difficult task to be a Lover of Doralisa's, and not displease her: However, Aristheus having a particular esteem of her, did bid his last adieu by himself, and rendered her a visit the next morning, which lasted until night: As this conversation was long, so was it very delighting, and he finding the demention of her Spirit, could not choose but have such affectionate thoughts of her, as his heart was capable of, which being neither love nor friendship, yet had all the gallantry of the first, and the passionate tenderness of the second; and as long as he stayed at Sardis, he held her in the rank of those unto whom he had such an affection as wanted a name, because it was never found in any but Aristheus; and indeed he was so full of his adulatory and obliging expressions, and delivered them in such a manner, that she had not the power to be angry; but though she was not angry when Aristheus talked to her, yet she could not endure that Arianita and Pherenice should upbraid her with this illustrious Conquest, and that they should say she was not sorry for making it; yet Aristheus parted upon very good terms from her: After which, he prepared himself to wait upon Cyrus, until he heard from the King of Phenicia, after the arrival of that Ambassador, who carried away the Statne of Elisa: As for Andramites, he was not so happy as Aristheus, for he could not have the honour of bidding her adieu in private, but she shunned him. In the mean time Cyrus, after he had left Hidaspes to command in the Citadel of Sardis, departed in the Company of Croesus and Myrsiles: Thus the Conquered went to war with the Conqueror; those few Lydian Troops that were fit for service, were distributed into several Regiments of Cyrus his Army, who was no sooner in the Field, but he made a Muster; but he was extremely troubled to find, that except the Persian Troops there was not one complete, and he found by experience, that drowsy rest had consumed his Army more than any two Battles: So that understanding the league which was made against him began to be very strong, and finding his own to be weak, both by disbanded Soldiers, and by Garrisons which he was forced to leave in conquered places, he was grieved to the very soul. Moreover, considering his design of besieging Cumes, he found it a piece of as great difficulty as was imaginable, and greater than his Love did at the first permit him to apprehend; he knew that a great part of his Army must be encamped upon the black and barren Mountains, where no accommodation was to be found; and another part in morish and boggy places, and all in water: He knew also, that there was nothing to be found about Cumes necessary for the incampment of an Army, that the nakedness and stirility of the place would not afford the Soldiers any Tents, nor any wood to make themselves Huts; that the Cavalry would find no fitting Quarters, nor any forage; and that, according to all intelligence, no Army could lie three days before Cumes and not perish, the difficulty of getting victuals rendered the design impossible, for there was no coming by Land but on one side which the Sea did often overflow; to bring in by Sea was dangerous, because the Coast was without Ports, and that in a tempest there was no landing; So that this great Prince did see, that if any storm came and lasted but three days, he should be forced to raise the Siege: Besides all these considerations, he saw there was no hope of taking Cumes unless it were by stopping up the very mouth of the Port, nor any other way to hinder the King of Pontus from carrying away the Princess Mandana the third time; yet he extremely feared, that as the season was, the Ships he had would not be able to keep the Seas so near the Land without eminent danger of Shipwreck, by reason of the winds which commonly were always high towards the end of Autumn: Moreover, the place itself was extraordinary strong, all the inhabitants were provided, the public Magazines were full, and which of all was most considerable, this place was to be defended not only by the King of Pontus, who was both valiant and amorous, and by the Prince of Cumes, who was a man of courage, and affected glory, but also by another of high valour and experience, who was so exceedingly veried in the military art of keeping places, as he hath vaunted, that he would give a stop to the Conquests of the Conqueror of all Asia, and that he would have the honour to hinder him from vanquishing, whom none could ever yet resist: But how huge soever these difficulties seemed, yet the love of Cyrus unto Mandana and unto glory, did surmount them all, yet notwithstanding the stirility of the place unto which he was to carry his Army did disquiet his thoughts, out of his fears that the Country could not afford subsistence so long as to take Cumes, and the cutting off a communication which this Town had with others, that might furnish them with victuals, did much trouble him: Also he apprehended, that the enemy might fall upon Thybarra, which he took in the beginning of the Spring: But after all, when this Prince had considered all these inconveniencies, he resolved to use all remedies to overcome them; he gave orders for the subsistence of his Army, to fortify all his Garrisons towards Cumes: He disposed his Troops in such sort, and dividing them into many little bodies, he concealed his design from the enemies, yet always quartered them so as he could easily call them together again when he pleased: And to make sure of Thybarra, he resolved to fortify it, whilst he expected news from Thrasibulus, in whom he trusted more than in any other ●or the sending some Ships unto unto him. This design was no sooner resolved upon, but marching towards this Town, he put it in execution with such prodigious diligence and ingenuity, as it may be said, that the fortifications of Thybarra were sooner finished by Cyrus, than any other could have contrived this plot; he himself made choice of those who were to work, and for the more expedition, he set on the Soldiers; he appointed in every quarter a man of command to oversee the works in that place; the horse were appointed to cut and bring Stakes and Faggots which were to bear up the earth which was removed; and for the better managing of their time, whilst they were fortifying the Town, they victualled it also; and in order to that, all the Peasants round about Thybarra were summoned to bring in provision, he appointed some to conduct them, others to take an account, and others to put them in the public Magazines, never was seen more haste and more order; never was seen at one time a huge Army, a whole Town, and almost a whole Country follow the will of one single man with such exactness, and so much regularity: 'Tis true; Cyrus himself was present ordering the works, with such singular ingenuity, and so well obeyed, that in fourteen days Thybarra was fortified, victalled, and furnished with all manner of military ammunition, and the Prince ready to march as soon as he could receive any news of his Ships, and the answer of Ciaxares. His impatience to accomplish an enterprise, which if it took effect, might release Mandana, and get him glory, made every minute seem an Age unto him, yet he did not wait above eight days for the joyful news which he so much longed for with so much ardour; for than he received orders from Ciaxares, which prescribing nothing unto him positively, seemed to refer the whole enterprise unto his conduct, and immediately after he received assurance from Thrasibulus, that he himself would go in person with ten Ships into the Channel of Cumes at what day he should appoint, assuring him, that this number was sufficient to block up the Port, without any employing the Prince of Mytilene: So that Cyrus being even ravished with joy, did presently communicate this news unto the Prince Mazares. But since Cyrus feared that this number of Ships which Thrasibulus would bring, would not be sufficient to prevent the King of Pontus from carrying out Mandana from Cumes, by drawing some Bark along the Land in the night; therefore he gave orders to provide many little Vessels out of the Ports nearest hand; and indeed they procured twelve from one place, two from another, and one from another, causing also as many Barks and Boats to be provided as he could: So that making up a great Fleet of petty Slips, he sent them to join with Thrasibulus, appointing that Leontidas should command them under the Prince of Mylet.  
After this, Cyrus made no secret of his design, but called a Council of War, at which the King of Lydia, the King of Hyrcania, the Prince Artamas, Mazares, Myrsiles, Persodes, Gobrias, Gadates, Anaxaris, and many others were present; but there was not one of them which dorred at the difficulty of the enterprise, seeing it was a thing resolved upon, and a thing which Cyrus desired with so much earnestness: So that the business of the Council being only to consult of the way how to advance their resolved design, every one had orders to prepare himself for a departure the next morning, during which time one thing befell Cyrus, which seemed a happy presage, for the valiant Megabates, and the generous Clearques, incited by a Spur of honour, departed from Phenicia, as soon as they understood by the Letters of the King's Ambassador; that Cyrus would be presently in the Field, and came unto the Camp, desiring to be partakers of those perils unto which so great a Prince would expose himself, to the end they might be sharers also of some part of that glory which he should get. Aristheus being extremely joyed at the arrival of these two friends, made it known unto Cyrus who they were, though this Prince did already know them very well, by the description of Telamis, when he related the history of Elisa: Also he received them with much joy, and with the same civility which he used unto all men of extraordinary merit: But in gaining Megabates and Clearques, he lost Aristheus, who at the same time received orders from the King of Phenicia to thank Cyru for all his favours, and to return unto Tire, he having no more business to employ him in about Cyrus, for some reasons which he mentioned in his Letter; so that this excellent man parted from this great Prince sooner than he intended, but he parted from him so extremely satisfied with his Spirit, with his generosity, with his courtesy, and with all his qualities, as he hath since confessed, that never since he knew the world, had he ever seen or heard a man so fit to represent the grandeur of Heroes, and even of the Gods, as Cyrus; adding, that his acquaintance with this Prince hath extremely elevated his spirit, and made him able to end his Poem better than he had began it. In the mean time Aristheus, after he had taken his leave of Cyrus, and bad adieu unto all those Princes who infinitely esteemed him, he departed from Thybarra, and though it was not his nearest way to returnunto Sardis, yet the esteem which he had of Doralisa, persuading him, that it was the nearest, he took that way in his return to Tyre. But as the arrival of these two valiant Phoenicians was a happy presage unto Cyrus; so the arrival of a servant, which went with him whom he sent unto Cumes, gave him a most certain assurance of happy success in his enterprise, for by him he received a Letter from Martesia, wherein he found these words.  
MARTESIA unto the illustrious CYRUS.  
SIR,  
THe carrying away of the Princess Araminta, which I have made known unto the Princess Mandana, having justified you in her resentments, I thought it my devoir to acquaint you with it, to the end you might transact with the more joy for the liberty of a person who reputes herself of the injustice which she hath done you, yet it is without her participation that I give you this intelligence; but yet I am confident, that if she did know it, she would easily pardon me for taking th●s freedom to write unto you, since certainly the reason why she herself does not write is, because her great heart will not permit her to confess that she has done you wrong. However Sir, be at quiet concerning the King of Pontus, and be most confident, that if Cumes should prove so impregnable unto you, as the heart of Mandana is unto him, you will never release her, nor by consequence  
MARTESIA.  
The reading of this Letter made Cyrus so full of joys, that he forgot almost all his past misfortunes, and hope did inspire his Spirit, that maugre all the dismal Oracles which he had received, and in spite of all those bugbear difficulties which he foresaw in the Siege of Cumes, he did not question his happy success. In the mean time he asked this servant who was of the intelligence, how he came by this Letter; and what was the state of things in the Town? To the first he answered, that his Master gave him the Letter without telling him how he had it; and to the rest he gave him full instructions of all that he desired to know▪ for by it he understood the order which was kept in the Town, and how they guarded the Princess, who is as much unknown in Cumes, as if she were here, and so is the King of Pontus: He told him also, that the Enemy's Army prepared to relieve Cumes, when the Siege was set down, and that Pactias, and one whose name was Licambes did command it; adding also, to the instructions which he gave unto Cyrus, that by the orders which was established at the Gates of the Town the same day he came away, it would be hereafter almost impossible for his Master to give him any intelligence: After this, Cyrus consulted with himself, whether he should show Martesia's Letter unto the Prince Mazares, but he resolved to show him only the instructions concerning the state of things; for though the happiness of a Rival does commonly quench the flames of Love in the heart of an ill-treated Lover, yet it does not always so, for sometimes jealousy does awaken that passion, and in lieu of stifling doth revive it: So that not to put the Prince Mazares unto so much torment, as to know the mind of Mandana, he would not show him the Letter. In the mean time, the day of departure being come, and the Army at the Rendezvouz, Cyrus thought fit to divide it into three bodies, ordering the March so, that the Ships of Thrasibulus should be in the mouth of the Port, before he appeared in sight of the Town. Thus his march might be the more easy, more speedy, and more orderly: These three bodies being able to arrive, almost all at once, and fall upon Cumes in an instant, Cyrus would take that way towards the Sea, as that wherein was most danger, because the Enemy was that way encamped, he had under his division the Persians, the Medeans, the Cappadocians, and all the Homotimes: The Hyrcanian Cavalry were also with him, Cyrus having forced Clearques to command a part of them in lieu of an Officer newly dead; for as for Megabates, he would fight under Cyrus as a Volunteer. Since all these Troops which he had made choice of, had courageously and faithfully served under him in all his Conquests, he had a great confidence in them.  
The other division which was commanded by the Prince Mazares, and which took upon the left hand, were composed of Assyrian, Armenian, and Egyptian Troops: The third commanded by the Prince Artamas, consisted of Gilician and Susanian Troops, and of all those who were levied in the new conquered Country: The Artilary was commanded by Persodes, and Cyrus did not think it fit that Croessus should have any command in his Army, nor would he permit the King of Hyrcania to have any, lest there should be any jealousy or envy between them; so that these two Kings kept always in the quarters of Cyrus, and were in all the Counsels which were held. The march of these three Bodies was so just and even, that they came at one very instant before Cumes, the situation whereof was very strange, for it was seated between two great hills of Sand by the Sea side, which seemed Mountains of Snow to those who saw them at a distance: On the East it looked towards Thybarra, or the South Mylet; Xanthes on the West, and the Sea upon the North: Its Territory was of no large extent, all their commodities came to it by Sea: This Town also was divided into two, the Inhabitants distinguishing themselves by the names of the old Town, and the new; but that which rendered it the most considerable was, that it had but one Port and one Channel able to contain a huge Navy in safety: This is it which rendered that Town so formidable to all her Neighbours; As soon as Cyrus spied the stately Temple of Neptune which was in Cumes, and which spired so high that it might be seen far off, he was extremely glad. This is the place, said 〈◊〉 to himself where I must either die or deliver my Princess: After which, he distributed quarters unto the Army, and that with so much judgement, that in all likelihood the Enemy could neither relieve the Town nor force his Camp, lying In such a posture, as that he might win a Battle whilst he was besieging a Town. This Prince having circumspectly observed all about Cumes, and found that there was some places which defended themselves, and others which were very hard to be kept, he gave all necessary orders to fortify those places by art which nature had laid open: He also built a Bridge over the Channel, and thereby had communication between his Quarters, for the more easy passage of victuals: So that Thrasibulus with his Ship sailing at the same time into the Port of Cumes, the Town was in an instant besieged: The next morning Cyrus began his line of circumulation, at which all the Soldiers wrought with incredible earnestness; the presence of the Prince did so invigorate them, that they wrought and never were weary. But to the end that the work might be more firm, he covered the sides of the line with Turf, which did concatinate the looseness of the Sand: He would have had a second line to fortify the first; but the Banks of Sand being of an unequal height, and so many of them which might command the Camp, he was forced to take in all those hills, and by consequence was forced to enlarge his works very far: It chanced also, that there was one of these Sandy hills in the Quarters of Mazares, which being much higher than the rest, the Enemy might much annoy the Camp, Cyrus therefore seized upon it, and made a Fort upon the top of this hill, and with a line did draw it within the line of circumulation.  
But after all this, the Sea banks were unfortified, which was as requisite to be done as any thing else, for otherwise all the rest of their works were in vain; and yet the Sand being so loose in that place, they knew not how to do it; for though this Sea hath neither Flux or Reflux as the Ocean hath, yet it did rise more or less, according as the wind did waft the waves, and did sometimes so impetuously dash against the Banks, that something more solid than Sand must be employed to make it abide its violence; and therefore Cyrus, to whom nothing was impossible, did drive in abundance of piles and stakes, which stopped the passage of the Enemy, and so fast, that the Waves could not stir them; yet this was not done without much difficulty, for those of Cumes did cut a great Rock which kept in the Sea at the furthest end of their Town, hoping hereby to overflow the passage whereby Cyrus was to bring his Victuals, and indeed the Land having a descent from that place, their design had taken, and the Army had been put to a great necessity of victuals, if Cyrus had not prevented this inconvenience, by driving abundance more piles, and rolling great stones, filled up with Sand and wreck, which made a new Barracadoe to Waves that would have flowed from thence: This work of giving limits to the Sea, (seemed to proceed from a supernatural power. These works of grand importance only did not take up the mind of this Prince, but also the least things were as well considered by him, he himself was twice every day at the place where the victuals was, that he might see the division just, and that none should have any cause to complain, it was his usual expression, that great erterprises could never be happily executed, unless a care was had unto trivial as well as important things; but the wonder was to see, that though this Prince had a thousand several cares upon him, yet he had such a admirable freedom of Spirit, and so much blithness in his eyes, as infused much joy into all the Army, and did so envigorate the Spirits of those that wrought, as in four days, maugre the rain; the wind, or any inconveniency, the lines were finished, the Sea-banks fortified, the inundation of the Waves stopped, and all the Sandy hills put into a posture of defence: Never was seen such great works in so short a time, nor did ever Prince merit more glory than Cyrus did at this time. In the mean time, Love was so predominate in his soul, that in giving all these orders, he still thought how he gave them for Mandana, and that by making these works he hindered his Rival for carrying away his Princess; and considering that if his design prospered, he should see Mandana at liberty, and his Rival in his fetters, he was full of unexpressible joys: But as high as his hopes and his joys were, Mazares on the contrary was all sorrows, to see how he laboured for another, and that he was delivering Mandana to lose her, but could never hope for the least fruit of his Victory: However, since he had fixed his resolutions, that his virtue should surmount his Love, he endeavoured to compose his mind, and to think of nothing but how to relieve Mandana to lose her, but could never hope for the least fruit of his victory: However, since he had fixed his resolutions, that his virtue should surmount his Love, he endeavoured to compose his mind, and to think of nothing but how to relieve Mandana. Thus forcing his heart and Spirit by his extreme generosity, Cyrus and he agreed very well together, and talked of the Siege, and what was best to be done, as if they had an equal interest in the taking of Cumes: The greatest admiration of these two Princes was, that the King of Assiria did not appear amongst them; nor so much as sent unto them: As long as we were at Sardis, said Cyrus, and knew nothing where the Princess Mandana was, I did not wonder to hear nothing of him: But now, since the Army is marched, hath been at Thybarra, and turned towards Cumes, he must needs know where our Princess is, and should join with us, to have his share in the glory of releasing her: For my part (answered Mazares) I must needs confess I cannot imagine his reason, for he was not used to give his Rivals any advantage; and therefore, since he appears not, I neither know what to say or think of his absence: Doubtless it is very hard to conceive, replied Cyrus, But may he not be in Cumes? (added he in a rapture of a sad apprehension) If he were there, (answered Mazares) he whom you sent thither would know him, and would have given you a hint of it in the intelligence which he sent you: Let it be then concluded, replied Cyrus, that we cannot guests where he is, and let us believe that wheresoever he be, he plots our ruin. Things being upon these terms in the Camp of Cyrus, the Enemy's Army being certainly informed that Cumes was besieged; they met in a place where the Commanders thought most fit to consult upon the best course, and to execute it as soon as it was resolved upon. Since they were very near the Camp, they hoped to relieve Cumes; for considering the discommodities of the incampment, and the badness of the weather enough to ruin any Army, they thought that the Army of Cyrus would be so weakened by their hard working, and being enclosed between them and the Garrison of the Town, it might be easily overthrown by fresh forces; yet the very name of Cyrus being terrible unto them, they resolved to send out a Party of Horse to take some prisoners, to the end they might have more certain knowledge of their Enemy's condition: But at the same time, they trimmed and tackled up a great company of Ships, with intention to enter the Port of Cumes by force of Sail, if the winds were favourable, in spite of Thrasibulus his Fleet. In the mean time, Cyrus like a great Captain did foresee, that if the Siege lasted long, his Army would decay, that it might be beaten, and that he might fail in taking Cumes, he resolved to shorten the Siege by force, and to assault it with unresistable fury; and certainly this design was full of reason, for victuals would quickly fail, and the Sea was so rough, that the Barks which brought them were often split in landing: Moreover, it was almost continual ruin, and Winter came on so fast, that the Soldier endured much hardship; the impetuosity of the wind would sometimes blow such a cloud of dusty Sand upon all the Camp, as blinded them; their Tents and Huts were all weatherbeaten, and many of the Soldiers did lie in mud; besides all this, they must be continually working to repair what the Sea spoiled, and to keep the Ditch from being filled up; so that fortune; ill weather, and hard labour, began already to bring divers diseases into the Camp. In the mean, Cyrus foreseeing all these inconveniencies was not dismayed, but endeavoured to surmount them by storming Cumes, and so to shorten the business: He very prudently considered, that he should lose fewer men by hazarding a fight, then by a long Siege: So that this being the resolution, Cyrus contrived the execution: In order to which, as soon as the intrenchments were finished, he went to discover all the places where the Town might be best assaulted, Mazares and Artamas followed him, and after good consideration, he resolved upon two several assaults, and prepared for the execution of so great a design, before the Enemy could oppose them, because they were very busy in their works of defence: Mazares and Artamas were the first who fought in erecting a Sconce to facilitate the assault, but the Enemy being fully resolved to dislodg them, did sally upon them so sharply, as they came thrice that night to the charge, and that with such vigour, as it was evident that those Soldiers were commanded by such Officers who were resolved to make a gallant defence: Anaxaris who was in this bustle did miracles, and did most contribute to the repairing of that Bank of Sand, where the Sconce was made: But in the last sally which the enemy made to drive them off, this valiant stranger being very forward to repulse them was taken Prisoner, and carried unto the Town, but after a three hours hot dispute, Victory declared herself for the besiegers, and the Sconce was made before night, able to hold three hundred men: There was killed, wounded, & taken Prisoners of both sides, but the misfortune of Anaxaris did most sensibly perplex Cyrus: On the other side of the Town the assault was in a much more readiness, for in a short time the Besiegers had gained the Counterscarp, and things went as well as Cyrus could wish. In the mean time intelligence was brought, that the Enemy's Army was upon their march, and seemed as if they intended to offer battle. Cyrus no sooner heard this news, but he prepared to receive them: But to prevent surprisal, he sent out Scouts, and was presently given to understand that it was a false alarm grounded upon what some Peasants had seen, who seeing a good Party of the Enemies sent out to take some Prisoners, thought them to be the Vanguard of their Army: But the wonder was, that the noise of the Enemies march to relieve Cumes, should never move the soul of Cyrus, nor dismay the Soldiers, but all stood in excellent order to receive them: The assault continued, as if this Alarm had never been, and Clearques who showed himself most bravely, was already got upon the Counterscarp, when the Enemy out of their Trenches sent Clouds of Arrows upon the Pioniers; after which they came to handy blows, and a much more terrible and bloody fight there was then that before, and the confusion was so great, that none knew which were conquerors, or which conquered; which friends, which Enemies. Cyrus' being advertised of this disorder; went thither immediately, being followed by Megabates, Thrasimedes, Ligdamis, Aglatidas, and all the rest of the Volunteers; and he was no sooner in the midst of this danger, but his presence dispersed all fears, he gave new hearts to his Soldiers, damped the Enemies, reestablished the order, and went on with the work But whilst things were in this condition on the Besiegers side, those who commanded the Enemy's Army were in a great perplexity, for though their Army was sufficiently numerous, yet after they knew from the Prisoners which they had taken the manner of the works, they thought themselves not able to force them, especially having to do with a Prince who was as prudent as valiant: Yet since Pactias knew, that the King of Pontus would never pardon him if they attempted nothing for his relief; and since Lycambes thought it would go against the Hair of his honour, to stand still with his hands in his pocket, they resolved to seem at least as if they would do something, though when they considered that they were to cope with the most valiant Prince in the world, a Prince accustomed to vanquish, whose men were admirably disciplined, whose reputation rob their Soldiers of their hearts, and whose capacity left them no hopes that he would commit any error which might facilitate their design: all these I say considered, they thought it madness to attempt any thing against him, and they confessed it folly, ever to hope for any good issue in their attempt: But making a show as if they would make some attempt, they marched as ●f they would assault the lines, themselves spreading a report of it, to see many tumult would chance in the Camp, which might encourage them to fall on. Cyrus' hearing this went out of the works with a Body of Cavalry, and some Volunteers, 〈…〉 rm himself, and 〈…〉 e them, before they assaulted him; but he was 〈…〉 y amazed when he saw only signs of quitting their Quarters, and when he under 〈…〉 ●ould●ers 〈…〉ed behind, that Pactias and Lycambes understanding 〈…〉 o● the wor 〈…〉; did think it impossible to ●orce them, and that it were better to keep their Forces to defend the rest of the Country, then to lose them in relieveing Cumes, which they could not hinder from being taken: So that Cyrus having vanquished without a blow, returned into the Camp with fresh hopes of carrying the Town, and speedy releasing of Mandana. In the mean time, the besieged did defend it with most resolute valour, and so stiffly, that they could not get a foot of ground without a sharp combat for it: The King of Pontus seemed to be indefatigable, and took all the pains which is inseparable from Sieges: The Prince of Cumes, his liberty being at stake, did fight with invincible courage; so that it may well be said, that never did assailants fall on with more vigour, nor ever any assailed defend themselves more valiantly: 'Tis true, the King of Pontus had such a Sea of sorrows flowing upon him, as the courage of any but himself would have been overwhelmed; for indeed the more submiss he was unto Mandana, the more unalterable she was; yet for all his sorrows, he treated Anaxaris very well in his Prison, who obtained all the liberty of the Castle where Mandana was, except permission to see her: But since he retained the Idea of her beauty in his memory, ever since the time he saw her in the Castle of Hermes, when she released Cyrus, he sought out for an opportunity of seeing her again, and easily found it; for Martesia having seen him in the Castle Court out of her Chamber Window, and knowing by the Guards that he was a Prisoner, she had a great desire to speak with him, and to inquire concerning Cyrus; she cunningly gained the hearts of her Guard, and persuaded them upon some pretence which she invented, to bring him into the little Garden where the Princess and she had liberty to walk, and to tell him, that there was a Lady of his Party who desired, to speak with him. Since the King of Pontus and the Prince of Cumes were continually busy about the defence of the Walls, they were not so circumspect as to mind every thing; so that they entirely trusted a single and disarmed Prisoner with the Guards which they had appointed over him. Then Anaxaris coming into the Garden unperceived, but he saw Martesia, who no sooner saw him, but she advanced towards him with a blush: Though I have not the honour to know you, (said she unto him after the first salute) yet I have some hopes to obtain a favour from you; for since you have ventured your life for that Princess whom I serve, and have endeavoured her liberty at the price of your own, I may well believe you will not deny me the favour to tell me how that Prince doth, who must be both her Deliverer and ours, and to tell me in what condition you left the illustrious Cyrus. Anaxaris hearing Martesia speak thus, answered her with as much civility, as spirit, that he would most joyfully obey such a Lady as herself; adding, that though he was not in a condition to employ his courage for the Princess Mandana's releasement, yet he would acquaint her what Cyrus did for her. After this, Martesia ask him a hundred questions, he informed her of all that Cyrus ever did, since the taking of Sardis, unto the carrying away of the Princess Araminta, and since her carrying away until the Siege of Cumes, with all possible aggravations that might be advantageous unto that Prince; So that Martesia, who did much interest herself in the happiness of Cyrus, and who was exceeding glad to find any subject which might eradicate all memory of that unjust jealousy which Mandana had out of her Spirit, she resolved to contrive it so, that Anaxaris might see her; and indeed, after she had thanked him, and obliged him to tell his name, she desired him to return the next day at the same hour unto the same place, where the Princess Mandana might understand from his mouth all he had told her: She had no sooner made this request unto Anaxaris, but he expressed abundance of joy, assuring her she would do him the greatest favour in the world, in letting him have the honour of seeing Mandana: After which, going out the same way he entered, Martesia went unto the Princess to acquaint her with all the story, but especially with what concerned the carrying away of the Princess Araminta, observing to her, how Cyrus had contented himself to give fifty horses unto Spitridates, and would not go himself to follow her Ravisher, but returned unto Sardis, in expectation of those whom he had sent unto Ephesus, Gnides, and many other places to inquire news of herself. And Madam, said Martesia, it is impossible to meet with a more exact relation than I have, for this honest stranger told me, that he was with Cyrus, when he first knew of Araminta's carrying away.  
This circumstance created such a fresh curiosity in Mandana to see Anaxaris, as she resolved to make good Martesia's promise: But yet said Mandana unto her, who is this which you would have me see? Madam, replied she, though he told me not his name, nor who he is, yet I am most certain, that he is a man of some very high quality, I see it by his garb, his behaviour, and his action, also by his manner of speaking; and I see it also plainly, by what Cyrus told him; that he is such a man as I speak of: But I pray, said Mandana, doth Cyrus think he can take Cumes and release us? Truly Madam, replied she, I was so inquisitive of what concerned Araminta, to the end I might fully justify the illustrious Cyrus in your opinion, as I must confess, that I talked not a word of the Siege, supposing, and with reason, that since Cyrus besiegeth Cumes, he will infallibly take it: Ah Martesia (said Mandana and blushed) in desiring to justify Cyrus, you strangely accuse me, since you do thereby upbraid me with my weakness, or an humour which may be termed jealousy: Did you but know Martesia (added she) how much ashamed I am, you would not speak of it any more; for truly I can hardly absolve myself, for letting Cyrus so rashly know the anger which I conceived against him, when I thought he preferred Araminta before me; and though my thoughts of displeasure against him were rather resentments of glory then any real jealousy, yet I must confess he might interpret what I writ as he pleased: For my part Madam (replied Martesia and smiled) were I in lieu of that Prince, I should rather to my consolation think that you were jealous, then that you were proud: The more you speak, replied Mandana, the more you make me ashamed, and let me see my folly in trusting too much to myself: For truly Martesia, Do you remember the time when Cyrus was only Artamenes? The time, I say, when Feraulas thinking him dead, did bring me a Declaration of his Love, that I read it in tears and was not angry, because I thought that Artamenes was dead? I remember it very well Madam, replied Martesia, nor have I forgot how pity then would not permit you to be angry wit 〈…〉 him: Then you have not forgot, added Mandana, at what a nonplus I was when Artamenes was received, and how I thought never to see him, because I imagined he would come to know how I steeped his Letter in my tears: Judge now, I pray you, if he shall be so happy as to take Cumes, how infinitely shall I be ashamed to see him, when I shall remember that I writ such things unto him, as will make him believe I was jealous? In good earnest, I am so vexed at myself for my fondness, and inconsideration which I have expressed unto him, that rather than seem guilty of such a fault, see Cyrus perfidious a thousand times: Ah Madam, replied Martesia, the passion whereof you speak cannot be hid when one pleaseth, or shall show whether one will or no, and show it sometimes by hiding it: Yet were it abundance of indiscretion and imprudence to show it, (answered Mandana) for whether it be well or ill-grounded, it will procure hatred; and therefore though one should be so unhappy as to be capable of it, yet one should not show it: For all your ingenuous arguments which seem to be just, answered Martesia, yet I am most certain Madam, that as you need not doubt of the fidelity of Cyrus, so you may be very glad to have it from the mouth of Anaxaris, that he left Spitridates to go after Araminta; and hath neglected no opportunity to release you: You pitiless woman, replied Mandana, what delight can you take in making me ashamed? Do not think, that if I have a desire to see this Prisoner, but it is because I would know from him the state of the Siege, then for any such reason as you speak of, for I do profess unto you, that I cannot endure to upbraid myself for having any such thoughts as are equally injurious, both unto Cyrus and myself: However Martesia, having a most infinite confidence with Mandana, did still dispute the business very respectively with her, knowing she would not take it ill. However, the next morning according to the resolution, Anaxaris saw the Princess, who was so well satisfied with him, as it was impossible she should be more. At the first he was mighty high in his commends of Cyrus, and all he did for her, he expressed himself with such zeal and aggravations, as he could not impose silence upon himself: But at last he lessened his talk of this Prince, and Martesia observed, that he was so taken up with contemplation of Mandana's beauty, that he could not take his eyes off her: Since this Princess had a desire to oblige him, she asked him of what Country he was? But Anaxaris answered, Madam, said he, since several reasons oblige me to conceal what I really am, I have denied the illustrious Cyrus' twenty times, that which you do me the honour to ask, and that which I am extremely sorry I cannot tell you, though perhaps it would be in some sort advantageous to me, that you did know it. After this, Mandana asked him very inquisitively what news Cyrus heard from Ciaxares? And afterwards enquired of all the Army, but especially of Chrisantes and Feraulas. Anaxaris answered unto all these questions, but it 〈◊〉 like a man who was surprised with an overviolent respect, though he gazed upon her most attentively: Since he could receive better intelligence from his Guards, than the Princess could from hers, it was resolved between them, that he should see her every day▪ or at least should see Martesia, and indeed so he did as long as the Siege lasted. In the mean time, the King of Pontus was in a most desperate condition, especially when he saw the Port of Cumes so blocked up by the Fleet of Thrasibulus, that there was no hopes of his carrying away the Princess; On the other side, the Prince of Cumes began to think he took an ill course in giving retreat unto the King of Pontus. But whilst he was full of this vain repentance, the man whom Cyrus sent into the Town, who had spoken twice with Martesia, who took a Letter from her for Cyrus, and who had sent it unto him by a servant, this man did cajole with the people as well as he could to move them unto murmur, at their being thus engaged in a troublesome unlucky war. Thus whilst the illustrious Cyrus was in the toilsome works of a Siege, he had some in the Town who were negotiating in his service. In the mean time, this indefatigable Prince being gone to visit some new works, as he was giving some orders about it unto an Engineer, this man was slain at his feet with an arrow, But as if this day were fatal unto Cyrus, and as if some malignant constellation were predominate, as he was returning in the evening unto his Quarter, he desired to go and give some orders unto a place where he conceived them to be necessary: But he was no sooner in the Trenches, than the Enemy shooting off an Engine which carried stones with such an impetuous celerity as was irresistible, one of Cyrus his Pages which followed him, had his head struck off: The danger came so near this great Prince, as that the skull of this Page being shivered in several pieces, did wound him in five or six places in the face and neck; so that Cyrus was all sprinkled with his own blood, and the blood of this unfortunate servant. In the mean time, this Prince had such a sweet tranquillity in his countenance amidst this great danger, that he cheered up the hearts of all his men, and made it appear that his courage was incapable of fear, and that nothing could shake it: Megabates and Persodes had their shares in this glorious danger, for they were very near him: On the other side, Pactias and Licambes, seeing they could not attempt any thing by Land to relieve Cumes, resolved to try what they could do by Sea, hoping that the bad weather would force Cyrus perhaps to raise the Siege. To this end they tackled up all their Ships, and set out to Sea, as if they would force Thrasibulus to give them passage. The sight of this Fleet filled all the Inhabitants of Cumes with as much joy, as it did Mandana with sorrows, who looking out of her window, which was towards the open Sea, did with inconceiveable sorrow see this Navy, which seemed to desire a fight with Thrasibulus: This Princess imagined, that if one Fleet should defeat the other, Cumes would be relieved, and feared that if the Sea were once free, the King of Pontus would remove her unto some other place where Cyrus could not release her; yet she was not long in these sad apprehensions, for this Fleet was no sooner in sight of Thrasibulus, but fears did so possess the Spirits of those which commanded it, that they steered about, and betook themselves to flight, and the wind which was not favourable to them for fight. Leontidas who commanded the little Vessels and ●he Barks, did chase them out of the sight of the King of Pontus, who beheld this disastrous disorder with unexpressible sorrow: But in exchange Mandana saw her Deliverers stand firm, and her Enemies fly to her unutterable joy. In the mean while, Cyrus seeing the resolute resistance of the King of Pontus and the Prince of Cumes, who lost not a foot of ground without disputing for it with extraordinary valour; Seeing, I say, that all his Ensigns and stratagems could not do any good wherewith to carry the Town, because they could not make any considerable breach, bethought himself of a device, which nothing else but Love could invent, and this it was; Cyrus was advertised that in a place of the Ditch towards the Sconce which they had made nearest the Town, there was a great Cave, whose mouth was stopped by those of Cumes, that this Cave did extend itself by many turnings and windings very far into the earth, so that the walls and fortifications of the Town did stand upon the Cave. Cyrus no sooner knew this, but he resolved to cross the ditch, and to make a Sconce at the foot of the walls, just at the mouth of this Cave, and did effect it. This Sconce was no sooner made defensible, but Cyrus causing the mouth to be opened, made a great number of Pioniers and workmen to enter in the night, with tools fit to break the stony roof of this Vault, which bore up a part of the Town: So that moving them to work with incredible alacrity, they came at last to find the foundation of the Walls of Cumes; but lest they should totter too much, and too soon, and so smother those who were in the Cave, they no sooner discovered the foundation of the Walls, but they underpropped it with Billets; so that employing as many Billets as they discovered stones, the Wall stood firm. But lest the noise of the Workers should be heard by those in the Town, Cyrus caused an assault to be given at the other side of the Town, purposely to draw the people thither, and busy them, commanding those forces at the same time which were on that side where the Miners were, to make false Alarms very often, that is, to make many great shouts, and as much noise as they could: But at the last, after they had discovered enough of the Walls foundation, to hope for a reasonable breach, and after they had underpropped it with as many Piles as were necessary to uphold it, Cyrus caused abundance of combustible stuff to be brought unto the feet of these Piles, such as very dry wood, which was made apt to burn by pitch, brimstone, and certain gums which they added to it; so that when the hour of execution came, and all the Workmen retired out, and all things in readiness, Cyrus about two hours' afternoon, caused fire to be put unto this huge mass of combustible matter, which he had placed at the feet of these Piles; so the fire did kindle in an instant, the Piles were consumed immediately, the foundation of the Wall wanting Supporters did fall, and the Walls wanting foundation followed, so this caused the most horrible object that ever could be beheld; for one might see at the mouth of the Cave a blooze of several coloured flames, mingled with a thick cloud of smoke; but the most affrighting part was to see, when the foundation of the Wall failed, the horrid subversion which was in an instant, the Soldiers upon them perish in their ruins, a thousand flashes of lightning flame flying up in the air, the terrible noise which the stones made in their fall, the Battlements in some places, to tumble with such impetuosity, as that they reached as far as the Sea; the dusty smoke which was made by the falling of the Wall would not let one see a long time, whether the breach was considerable or no: But after the wind had a little dissipated the muddy mist in the Air, one might perceive that the breach was as much as one could wish: So that Cyrus causing an assault to be made, and finding no resistance, because this strange invention had amazed the Enemy, they began to make a Sconce there: But at last, the King of Pontus coming unto that place, and the Soldiers recollecting themselves, they did most courageously beat back the forces of Cyrus, and hindered them from finishing the work which they had begun: The fight was very obstinate and bloody. In the mean time, though the Wall in falling at the mouth of the Cave had choked the fire which flamed thereout, yet there were some Crannies in this huge heap of ruins, out of which there came so thick a smoke, as it deprived the Combatants of light and knowledge, who friend, who foe: So that the Soldiers of Cyrus, and those of the King of Pontus, not knowing what they did, fell in o● such a confused disorder, that those of Cyrus thought the besieged had the advantage, and those of the Town also thought that the Assailants had it: So as in this error and disorder both sides retreated, and left the Sconce to itself; yet the smoke being vanished, the Soldiers of Cyrus were the first who saw it, and returned to the Combat, which they did so prosperously, that they finished the Sconce and kept it. Whilst they were getting this advantage on that side, Clearques obtained another on the other side where he did assault; and he got so much honour during this Siege, as Cyrus gave him a thousand commendations: All the Volunteers approved themselves most brave men, especially Megabates. This being the state of things, Pactias and Licambes did make another attempt, which was to get some men into Cumes by the way towards the Sea, and indeed they did happily begin the design, never being discovered by the Scouts; but Cyrus being advertised of this enterprise, took horse immediately with Mazares and all the bravery of his Army, and went to look upon their Enemies, who seeing they were discovered, retired in such haste, that Cyrus could not overtake them: So that he returned to the Camp, where he found all things in a good condition, and looked upon Cumes as a Town that would be presently taken: His greatest perplexity was his fear, lest the King of Pontus should find out some way to steal away Mandana: Wherefore consulting with Mazares upon the best course, he believed the Prince of Cumes repent of his giving Sanctuary unto the King of Pontus, for involving him into all this misery, it was thought expedient to offer him his Dominions if he would restore Mandana, and that he would give liberty to the King of Pontus, because he would not move him to betray a Prince unto whom he had given retreat: Cyrus hoping that if this Prince would not accept of this offer, yet it would stir up the people against him, and would hinder the King of Pontus from carrying away Mandana: So that having sent a Herald unto the Prince of Cumes, to tell him, that having some advantageous Propositions to make unto him, he desired a man of some credence might be sent to receive his intentions. This Prince, after a consult with the King of Pontus, answered, that their two interests being inseparable, he could not receive his message without his participation, but that they would send jointly the next morning to know what the will of Cyrus was, that in the interin there might be a cessation of Arms: Though this answer of the Prince of Cumes was not according to the wish of Cyrus; yet he took him at his word, and to obtain his ends, he resolved to transact with equal generosity unto his Rival: So that the next morning after the Truce was published, and after he who the King of Pontus, and the Prince of Cumes sent unto him, were come into the Camp; Cyrus would needs show him all his works, to the end the negotiation might better proceed: So that he carried him from Line to Line, from Fort to Fort, and let him see there was no hopes of ever relieving Cumes by Land: Also, what Cyrus said unto him was so full of generosity, that he could see no reason why any of his offers should be refused, for he demanded of the Prince of Cumes Mandana only, and yet offered unto the King of Pontus all the conditions which the Princess Araminta heretofore offered from him, which was, an Army to reconquer his Dominions: I do not offer this, (said he unto the man) out of the least doubt of taking Cumes presently, but it is because I am obliged unto the King of Pontus, ever since I wore the name of Artamenes, and having a high esteem of the Prince of Cumes courage, I should be sorry any occasion should force me to ruin them, and to tell you truly, I desire to shorten the captivity of Mandana, by a happy negotiation.  
After this, Cyrus did much oblige the man to whom he spoke, and without any unworthy Proposition, he made him extremely satisfied with his generosity; but the more reasonable the Propositions were, the more sharp were they unto the King of Pontus, and he laboured to put things unto the utmost extremity, and the Prince of Cumes protested never to shrink from his interest; and though he was most desperately in Love, yet he could not choose but consider, that since he was not able to keep Mandana, it were injustice wilfully to ruin a Prince who had given him retreat: But for all this, though he did know it to be both unjust and imprudent, yet his passion had no ear to hear of any Proposition, which had any clause of Mandana's restitution in it; yet notwithstanding, not dare to tell the Prince of Cumos in plain terms, that rather than restore Mandana into the hands of Cyrus, he was resolved to see both him and himself to perish, he gave him such language as might gain a little time, and if possible recover some hopes; and therefore he thought it expedient to tell Cyrus, that they could not return him any positive answer, without imparting these Propositions unto the Xantheans, and Caunians, and also until they knew from Pactias and Licambes in what condition their forces were, and therefore desired, until they were satisfied in these things, that the Truce might continue; so that they sent back this answer unto Cyrus, who accepted of it, provided there were a time limited unto this negotiation, and that the term were not long; and thus the Truce was continued: The King of Pontus, and the Prince of Cumes sent out an Envoy unto the General of their Army, and another unto the Xantheans and the Cauneans, Cyrus sending Heralds with them to carry them thither, and to bring them back. In the mean time, the King of Pontus, who had never consented unto this negotiation, but that he might thereby have longer time to consider which way he might save himself, or at least defer his ruin a little longer, he now pumped all his invention for an expedjent how to get Mandana out of Cumes: But whilst he was vainly seeking for that which was so difficult to be found, Cyrus and Mazares admired what was become of the Assyrian King, they could not imagine where he should be, nor how it was possible he should be living, and not before Cumes: Sometimes Cyrus thought him dead, and otherwhiles had a jealous fancy that he was in Cumes, and some way or other transacting his ruin, though yet he could not imagine which way he was able to do it. In the mean while, the Truce being published as well in the Sea as Land-Army, there was a genearl idleness amongst the Soldiers on both sides, and a kind of a dim image of Peace amongst them all.  
Things standing upon these terms, and Cyrus being one morning upon the top of a Fort which he had made upon a hill in the Quarters of Mazares, he discovered a Fleet, which with full Sail made towards his. He no sooner saw this, but his passion moving him to suspect some foul play, he changed colour, and would send unto Cumes to clear his suspicions, but as he was upon the point of sending, an Envoy came unto him from the King of Pontus and the Prince of Cumes, who came to ask him whether this Fleet did come to strengthen his Army, and whether he would keep within the limits of the Truce? So that knowing by this the Fleet were not his Enemies, he concluded they were for him, knowing how he had negotiated for Ships in several places, and indeed he was not mistaken. After this, he dismissed the Envoy with orders to assure the King of Pontus, and the Prince of Cumes, that he would make no attempts until the Truce were ended or broken: And as for the Fleet which appeared, they had no orders from him to approach, nor knew he from whence they came, yet he would engage his word to make no use of them, until those Princes had refused the Propositions which he made them. After this Envoy was gone, Cyrus and Mazares saw that Thrasibulus sent out two little Vessels to meet those which were making towards him, and that those two Ships returned with the Fleet as friends towards Thrasibulus; so that rejoicing to see fresh aid, he thought it would conduce much to make the people of Cumes revolt, if those Princes should not accept of those offers which he made them: Also he conceived fresh hopes of seeing his dear Princess very shortly, yet he was very impatient to know from whence this Fleet should come, but he was not long without full satisfaction; for the two Fleets were no sooner joined, and those who commanded them had conference, but Thrasibulus (according to the liberty of Truce) sent Leontidas in a Bark with Philocles, who was Lieutenant General unto him who commanded this Fleet unto Cyrus, to inform him of all passages, so that Leontidas arrived at the Camp just as Cyrus entered into his Tent with Mazares, Myrsiles, and many others: But to the end he might know how to receive Philocles, he went to Cyrus before him, and acquainted him, how Philocles was sent by the Princess Cleobuline, who was then Queen of Corinth, after the death of the wise and valiant Periander her Father; and that he came to offer him from the Queen this Fleet which he saw arrive.  
Cyrus no sooner heard this from Leontidas, but he disposed himself to receive Philocles with extraordinary civility, not only because he did very much esteem him, and because he brought him powerful Auxiliaries, but also because he came from one of the most illustrious Princesses in the world, whom he had seen very young when he traveled by Corinth. Having then appointed Chrisantes to go and entertain them whom she had sent, and Leontidas to hring him thither, Philocles was brought, who presented a Letter unto him from the Queen of Corinth; which contained these words.  
The Queen of Corinth to the invincible CYRUS.  
SIR,  
TO testify how dear the remembrance of the illustrious Artamenes is unto me, and how much I interest myself in that glory which he hath gotten, I have sent unto him the best Ships which are on our Seas, being extremely sorry, that he would not acquaint me with his necessities, but demanded aid from Princes, who could not help him with a more willing heart than mine: The Soldiers which I have made choice of to send him, hath all of them heretofore returned from Wars with Laurels on their heads under the late King my Father; and lest they should forget the art of vanquishing, I should be glad to have them fight under such a Conqueror as yourself, nor can they a greater honour, then to have a helping hand in the Princess Mandana's delivery, and fight under your Ensigns; and this is my advantage, that when you shall send them back, I shall be more trrrible to my Neighbours; Philocles, who knows my thoughts of you, will more precisely interpret them; and if he follow my instructions exactly will tell you, that I do easily believe all the wonders which are reported of your life, and that there is none in the world who doth more honour your virtue then myself, nor who wisheth your happiness with more zeal than  
CLEOBULINE.  
This Letter being full of Noble expressions, it did most infinitely oblige Cyrus, who testified unto Philocles so many cordial acknowledgements of this great Queen's goodness unto him, as made it apparent, that his heart was most sensible of such a generous overture. After this, Philocles acquainted Cyrus, how the Queen who sent him understood that the Prince of Cumes had sent secretly unto Corinth, to cause Ships of War to be made, and that she was diligent to inquire (by some intelligence which she hath in the Town) what might be his reason for arming? by which means she came to understand, that it was because he had given retreat unto the King of Pontus, who was escaped from Sardis, and had taken the Princess Mandana with him: Philocles further told him, that this great Queen supposing he knew where that Princess was, and not questioning but that he would presently besiege Cumes, she made ready this Fleet which now she sent unto him, which could not possibly come sooner unto Cumes, because of the contrary winds: Philocles extolled the esteem which Cleobuline had of Cyrus, with so many aggravations, and such eloquence, as it was evident he came from the Court of a Princess, where ignorance did not pass for a virtue, like many other Courts in the world: Though Cleobuline was very young when Cyrus was at Corinth, yet he remembered her to be then very fair, and of an admirable Spirit as well as beauty; and being obliged unto a more particular curiosity, he asked Philocles a hundred questions, concerning this great Princess and her Government; but the more Philocles answered, the more his curiosity augmented, for he told him such wonders of this Queen in discoursing with him, of her great soul, spirit, wit, prudence, justice, liberality and goodness, as this Prince was all admiration, and had no longing desire to know more. In the mean time, to testify how much he esteemed of any thing that came from her, he sent Chrisantes unto him, who commanded this Fleet, with several Barks loadened with all manner of things suitable for a Present at Sea, keeping Philocles with him, and Leontidas also until the Truce was ended.  
The next morning, he who commanded the Fleet, whose name was Thimochares, came also to visit Cyrus, who treated him with magnificence worthy of himself, and worthy of that Queen whom he desired to honour, by honouring him who commanded her Arms. Since the Truce allowed him leisure enough, and since his hopes of seeing his Princess at liberty had infused much serenity into his soul, his civilities were more exact and regular then ordinary; therefore as often as Philocles and Timochares were with him, he talked with them continually of the Queen, of whom he still heard something that was admirable, and indeed so many miracles, as would have staggered his belief, and suspected Philocles and Timochares of gross flattery, if he had not known the first of them to be a man most sincere.  
However, this Prince always thought that he committed a crime when he thought of any thing but Mandana, and would not perhaps have been so forward in the business of this Queen of Timochares, according to her orders, had he not asked him from her, whether she approved of her design never to marry; advising with him afterwards upon several things which related unto her Dominions: So that Cyrus infinitely wondered at the resolution which this young and fair Queen had taken, and afterwards talking with Timochares, and then with Philocles, who for divers reasons wished that this Queen would not so obstinately persist in her resolution, Philocles resolved to acquaint Cyrus with something which almost none but himself could, to the end that he might advise Timochares, who had some credit with Cleobuline, to persuade her not to persist in her design: So that after they had augmented the curiosity of Cyrus, by a thousand circumstances concerning this Queen; and after Philocles had told him, that a relation of this Queen's life would concern him, Cyrus who infinitely esteemed Philocles, promised to give him audience some night when every one was retired to their rest. But before he would let him begin this relation, he asked him how Philista did? and how the state of his Love did stand? Oh Sir (answered he, with such a smile as testified that he was either cured of his passion, or happy) the state of my fortune is changed, since I left you in Armenia. Since I hope, replied Cyrus, that the change is for the better, I should be glad to know it: Sir, replied Philocles, I am much obliged unto you for your expression, but in my acknowledgement of this honour, it would not be just in me to trouble you with any long relation of my own adventures, since I have others more illustrious to acquaint you withal: It will be enough I tell you, that hope is a thing which a Lover never ought to lose, since never any had less grounds of hope than I had when I was at Jalissa, after I heard the Husband of Philista was dead: Yet Sir, that extreme aversion which I thought invincible, was surmounted by my perseverance; and that heart, which with so many services, sighs and tears could not melt, was at last dissolved by my constancy: So that when I did return unto Corinth, I did return the Husband of Philista; at my arrival there I received a Letter from Thimocrates, which intimated unto me, that he had married Telesile. Thus Sir those two Lovers, whom you saw in such a miserable condition at Sinope, as that none had misfortunes comparable unto theirs, are now both of them become most happy, though then there was no likelihood of their ever being so: I assure you, replied Cyrus, I am infinitely joyed at it: I am infinitely obliged unto you, replied Philocles: But to return unto the Queen of Corinth, I shall most humbly beseech you Sir, not to suspect me of any flattery, when you shall hear things reported of her; for believe it Sir, her merit is above all commendations or flattery: She was so lovely and accomplished, replied Cyrus, when I was at Corinth, that I question not but she will merit the Character you shall give her, therefore you need not Philocles to prepare me with any such Prologue. After this, Philocles began the relation thus.  

The History of CLEOBULINE Queen of Corinth.  
THough it be the custom of those who relate the lives of any one to begin a far off, and to give as large a Character of the Ancestors, as of the Party who is most concerned in the adventure in hand, yet I do not intend to imitate them; therefore Sir, I shall only hint unto you in a concise method, that Periander the Queen of Corinth's Father was branched from the illustrious Race of Heraclides; that his valour had rendered him a Conqueror of his Dominions, though his Justice made him to reign quietly; that he had waged many glorious Wars, especially against those of Epidaurus, and that his great soul had made him merit the name of wise, as well as his courage had got him the name of valiant. After this, I shall tell you, that having lost the Queen, his wife, and two Sons, he died himself, and left the Princess his Daughter Queen of Corinth, at such an age as could not be imagined she could bear out her Royal Authority as she did: I know again Sir, that it is the custom lest Auditors should be surprised at the extraordinary merits of a person, to relate how they were educated, and what they were taught, and to derive their History even from their very Cradle: But since it is the Queen of Corinth I am to speak, I will show you her upon her Throne, and not mention her further than since she wore a Crown: Yet of her person Sir, since she is much embellished since you saw her, it is requisite I speak something; yet she is a little bigger than when you were at Corinth, for her stature could never reach unto the rank of the middle sort, but yet I assure you Sir, she has all the Characters of Grandeur and Majesty in her aspect, such as imprints fear and reverence in the hearts of all that look upon her, though this be a privilege which commonly is reserved only to such unto whom Nature hath given a high and lofty stature: But though Cleobuline be not so high as her heart is great, yet in exchange, she hath the fairest grey eyes that ere were seen, her hair the loveliest fair in the world, her garb and behaviour superlatively rare; and though her Nose be a little above the true exactness of proportion, yet her physiognomy is so Noble and Heroic, as it pleaseth infinitely, and as I said before, inspires reverence into the hearts of all beholders: But Sir, I do not only render her commendable unto you, by the graces of her person; but also by the grandeur of her soul, the nobleness of her inclinations, the generosity of her heart, and the incomprehensible altitude of her wisdom and spirit: For it is most unquestionably certain, that never any one living had greater and more admirable qualities than this Princess hath, she speaks unto all Ambassadors which come unto her Court in their own National language, and that with such eloquence, with so much ease, and in such a grace, as putteth them all to admiration. Moreover, her knowledge is not limited to the languages which she speaks and writes as well as her own, but there is no manner of Science whereof she is not capable: Yet the thing which in my fancy merits most esteem is, that she hath such a venerable opinion of all persons that are either knowing or virtuous, or excellent in any Art, that at this very present she hath intelligencers in all places of the world to inquire out those who have any extraordinary merit, and by this means there is not any man of any transcendent parts who hath not tasted of her liberality: For Sir, be pleased to know, that this great Queen doth give, as if the Gods had established her to enrich all the knowing men in the world; and certainly she hath good reason for it to look upon them as her Subjects, since I am confident there is not one who does not respect her as if she were his legitimate Queen; she does not only give to those who ask her, but unto those who never pretend unto any thing, she gives quickly, she gives much, she gives with a good will, she gives with joy, and liberality is a virtue, which she practiseth in such a Noble and Heroic manner, as she never thinks she gives too much: But the wonder of all is, that this virtue is no blind hoodwinked virtue which bestows without choice or discretion; but on the contrary, she gives only unto those whom she thinks do merit her gift, yet still measuring them by the rule of her own generosity, more than by the virtue of the Receivers; much rather choosing to give more than is deserved; than not to give as much as her Quality, and liberal inclination prompts her unto. Moreover, this virtue of liberality, which is so proper unto Kings and Princes, is not the only virtue which shines in her, but also she is exceedingly good, profoundly prudent, and exactly just, so just that she will violate all her strongest inclinations, rather than do the least injustice to the meanest of her Subjects; and if this virtue which is the very Basis of all others do at any time transgress, it is only when clemency prompts her to pardon some Noble Delinquent; indeed she knows so well how to mix the severity of Justice with the mildness of clemency, that from these two virtues do flow a million of good effects, which makes her to be both feared and loved by all her people. Moreover, she is able to give advice; she is knowing in all affairs, and understands them so admirably well, that it is a hard matter to pose her in any thing; she never frequents any but magnificent Feasts in her Court, and stately recreations; but the predominate passion of her soul is Love unto the Sciences, and she may as well be called Queen of the Muses, as Queen of Corinth; and indeed they do in all places pay her homage, in perpetual Eulogies and Panegeriques, both in Verse and Prose; the name of Cleobuline is celebrated in all places of the world, and her glory is above any additions. But Sir, to omit any relations of her Government, since we have nothing to do with the Politics at this time: Be pleased to know, that there is a man in the same Court, whose name is Myrinthus, who is not originally a Corinthian, since his Grandfather was a Lacedaemonian: This Myrinthus is a man of excellent parts, for he is not only tall, handsome, fair, and of a good Garb, but he has as much heart, and as much Spirit as any one can have: He had also this advantage, that his Grandfather and Father having both of them very Noble Fortunes, both of them had the most honourable employments in the State: By this means Myrinthus ever from his first budding in the world, had much familiarity both with the Queen, and with all the men of highest Quality in Corinth: 'Tis true; Myrinthus was of a very considerable Rank in his Country; yet the truth is also, that Fortune carried him higher than his birth, but never higher than his virtue: Yet Sir, he need not be looked upon as the only foundation of those honours which I shall tell you he received, since I am very confident, that the Queen of Corinth had some reason to say, one never loves, but because they cannot choose and because there is some compulsive power which forceth us, whether we will or no to love and hate, without any help of our reason: But Sir, since in order unto my design I must discover a secret unto you which few know, a secret which doubtless the Queen of Corinth would not have you know; therefore I must tell you, that there is in our Court a Prince whose name is Basilides, a man doubtless very amiable, both for the Qualities of his person, for those of his wit, and those of his soul. Moreover, Basilides looked so near the Crown, that by the Law he was to succeed Cleobuline, if she married not. Thus Prince had ever a most reverend and violent passion unto this Princess, but since she made herself feared as well as loved, the Rank she kept, did enjoin him silence; yet I know very well that the Queen was not ignorant of his passion, though he never told her of it, and I am sure that if she did not love him, it was not because she was ignorant of his Love, but because her soul had a secret engagement which she herself knew not of: For Sir, let me tell you, Cleobuline was born with a most strong inclination unto Myrinthus: But that you may not wonder how I came to the knowledge of all these secret particulars, be pleased to know, that Stesilea who dwelled at Corinth, of whom you heard at Sinope, and who married the Brother of Philista, she, I say, was of confidence with the Queen a long time, and Philista being intimate with her, since her return from Corinth, I knew from her all these passages which I relate unto you: I know therefore Sir (as I told you) that none can have a stronger inclination to love another, than Cleobuline ever had to love Myrinthus, and this affection was so bred in her from the Cradle, as she perceived not the greatness of it until she was a Queen: She knew before that the sight of Myrinthus did please her more than the sight of any other, that his company did more divert her, that in her eye he had a better Garb than any in the Court, that his clothes did better become him, that he had a better grace than any else, that his Spirit was more pleasing, ing, and that she esteemed him more than any she knew, but she thought all these to be pure effects of her reason, and of Myrinthus his merits, not thinking her inclination had any other ground: But the truth is, she loved him, and knew it not; and she went on so long in this error, that her flame could not be quenched when she discovered it: As for Myrinthus, the vast distance between the Quality of this Princess and himself, did so limit his veneration of her virtues, as that it did not produce those effects which perhaps it would have done, if Cleobulines quality had been equal unto his; for he knew very well, that in all reason he could not look upon her, but only with an eye of respect, and not with the least thought of Love; he knew she was the most accomplished person upon earth, but this knowledge produced only of admiration, and if he did bear any affection to her, it was only to her glory, and to do her service, but not unto her person; yet was he very officious in rendering most exact reverence unto this Princess, because being of a very ambitious temper, and knowing she was to be Queen, he conceived that she might advance his fortunes, and indeed he was not mistaken, for after Periander died, Cleobuline conferred upon him one of the greatest offices in the State; yet she did believe that in conferring it, he would execute the office better than another, and that what she did was conducible to her service: But she was not long in this ignorance of her own heart, for she began presently to conceive that she was not her own Mistress. Since Myrinthus had this Queen in high veneration, since he was obliged unto her, and since he expected much from her, doubtless he failed not in any thing of duty to her as the Queen of Corinth, yet she confessed since unto Stesilea and Philista, that sometimes, though she knew no reason for it, yet she was not satisfied with his obsequiousness, with his respects and services, and that she was vexed at him though she did conceal it, and not being able to reach the cause, she knew not whereof to complain. Thus not knowing what her heart would have of Myrinthus, she only knew that she was not contented: But though these disorders did often take her, without any outward expressions of them, yet she could not believe that she was in Love with Myrinthus, and she had rather accuse herself of being fantastical, then of entertaining any such passions as that in her heart; yet for all that, she confessed, she had once some suspicions of such a thing, which she rejected with a strange violence; adding, that she would not admit of any ●uch thoughts into her soul, which she should be obliged to combat withal, and which she thought perhaps already that she could not easily vanquish: So that deluding herself, she continued loving Myrinthus, and would not know it; she never called her heart to give an account of its secrecies, as at other times she used: So that in some sort submitting her reason unto the conduct of her passion, this illustrious heart was so engaged to love Myrinthus, that when it would have disengaged itself, it was not in its power. In the mean time, Myrinthus was as happy as a man could be that was not in Love, for the Queen casting a favourable eye upon him, all the Court Courted him, and he tasted all the sweets that ambition useth to afford those whose projects prosper. Myrinthus never asked any thing of the Queen which he obtained not, and she often gave him when he did not ask, her ear was always ready to his desires, all the friends of Myrinthus were sure to find protection, and it may be said, that he was infinitely happy and knew it not. Basilides for his part, though he durst never speak a word of his passion unto the Queen, and he was not loved so well as he wished, yet he was not very miserable; for besides his hopes that time and his services might move her heart, he had this consolation also to know, that if ever she married, all reason and policy in the world would require she should marry him: So that contenting himself with that natural civility which this Princess used towards him, he lived in tranquillity enough, his hopes of being hereafter loved, sweetening his sorrows for not being loved at the present. As for the Queen, it may be said, that she had neither Roses nor Thorns in her Love; for she had neither the sweetness to be loved, or almost to know that she loved, nor was she stung with that restless anguish which that passion often procures, since she was neither angry, nor impatient, nor jealous, yet she was not long in this serenity of soul, which kept her ignorant of her heart's engagement, and she soon perceived that Love is a most dangerous passion. But Sir, to let you know how the Queen of Corinth came to know the state of her own heart, be pleased to understand Sir, that Basilides had a Sister named Philimena, who then was one of the greatest Ornaments of the Court; not that her beauty was so exact, but because she had such a sweet agreement of features as was preferable before beauty: Philimena was of a brown complexion, yes extremely brown, she was rather little then great, every part of her face was not regularly handsome by itself, but being put together, she was fair and infinitely charming, she had bright, sweet, and lively eyes, her mouth was infinitely handsome, her teeth were admirable, and had a plumpness which gave her an air of youth that did extremely well become her: But above all these, she had such a kind of sweet Gallantry in her person, as she pleased all that saw her. Moreover, she had an attractive Spirit, and such a Spirit as was able to keep those Conquests which her beauty made: You may well imagine Sir, that Philimena having the honour to be the Queen's Cousin, and being Mistress of so much merit, that she was often with her, and that there was no Feast in the Court whereat she was not: So that by this means Myrinthus did see Philimena every day, either with the Queen, or at her own lodging, or in some other place. But at last Sir, he saw her so often, that he saw her too often, for he fell most desperately in Love with her: Since as I told you, he was naturally ambitious, he never opposed a passion which had such a Noble cause, nor ever went about to hide it, not being sorry they should report him to be in Love with the Sister of that man, who in all likelihood was to marry the Queen; so that finding in one person a fit sublect to satisfy his love and ambition both, he applied himself highly to Court Philimena; but the best conceit was, that he built all the happy success of his design upon the Queen's favour, never dreaming what thoughts she had of him; yet he did not carry it at the first as pretending to marry her, but as a man, who preferred her before all the Court, and could not choose but love her: Since he thought it would avail him, that the Queen should think him in love with Philimena, hoping that she would further the business, he was as forward to make the Queen know it, as Philimena, knowing that Basilides would not deny the Queen any favour, and so he thought the enjoyment of Philimena did depend as much upon Cleobuline, as upon Philimena herself.  
Myrinthus then having these thoughts, was excreamly diligent to make the Queen believe him as amorous as he was, and lost no opportunity to persuade her that he was not able to live without Philimena, he would sometimes on set purpose when Philimena was with the Queen, fail in those respects which he owed unto Cleobuline, only to let her see the greatness of his affection to Philimenat: You may imagine Sir how the Queen was troubled at this knowledge, I assure you it was so great, as now she knew what she was ignorant of before, for she could never tell what was in her heart, until Myrinthus thus loved Philimena. But as soon as it appeared to be Love, there was no possibility of hiding this passion of her soul from herself, and she had enough to do to hide it from others; she would not at first believe her own thoughts, but did strive to believe that the reason why the love of Myrinthus to Philimena did vex her, was because his design was too rash, and with too little respect unto her: Yet she had no sooner accused Myrinthus of rashness, but she found something else in her heart, all her thoughts were in such a ravelled disorder, as she was fain to examine them one after another, to know what it was From whence proceeds (said she to herself, and called all her thoughts to an account) this great turbulence in my heart, since Philimena conquered the heart of Myrinthus? What interest have I in the Conquest, that I should desire to oppose it? and what expect I from a man whom Fortune hath made so much my inferior? I know not well what I would have (said she and chid herself) but I know very well that I would not have him love Philimena: But can it be possible I should love Myrinthus more than I thought I did? Myrinthus who who is a thousand degrees below me, Myrinthus who loves not me, nor thanks be to the Fates knows that I love him: No; fie, fie, Cleobuline is not capable of so much weakness, she is too zealous an adorer of glory to love Myrinthus, though he should infinitely love her.  
At these words Cleobuline stopped, and was a while in examination of herself; but not being able to be her own Judge, she broke out into expressions again: However (said she and blushed) this same Cleobuline who is such a lover of glory, and who thought she had not loved Myrinthus, cannot endure that he should love Philimena, and finds something in her heart which tells her, she should not be sorry if he loved Cleobuline: But what's this I say? (said she and reprehended herself) am I in my wits? and can I approve of my own thoughts? No, no, I utterly disclaim them if they be unworthy of myself, I will magnanimously contend with myself for my own glory; and since all the world commends me, I will not give them any cause to blame me: Surmount Cleobuline this 〈…〉 silanimity which thou hast discovered in thy heart; and never consent that the Daughter of the wise Periander should be capable of so much folly, nor that the Daughter of a great and valiant King should be so poorly base. But is Love a voluntary thing? (said this Princess to herself) Is it not a passion? And yet I argue as if one might love or hate, whom, and when, and how they please. Oh you most just Gods (cried she out) I would what I say now were true? and that I could hate Myrinthus? 'Tis much better to be unjust then weak: Proclaim war against thyself Cleobuline, and to make the Conquest more easy, imagine, that Myrinthus hath done thee an injury, to respect thee as he hath done; and that he hath affronted thee by loving Philimena, that he was obliged to guests at those thoughts which you had of him, and to answer them, and let him pass for a perfidious and ungrateful man, who should know that you loved him and he never love you: But alas, said she, how can I accuse Myrinthus? He does not love me, 'tis true; but the reason is because he thinks that he ought not to presume to love me, if he had any suspicion that I loved him, had he not then done me wrong? and had I not good cause to be offended at him? of what then can I accuse Myrinthus? can I accuse him of any rashness in loving Philimena, since I think him not worthy to look upon myself? If I must find a cause, (said she) either in him or myself to hate him, or at least not to love him: Is it not cause enough; that he is the cause of that weakness whereof I accuse myself? Is it not a sufficient cause to drive him from my heart, that he disturbs the tranquillity of my life? Banish him then courageously Cleobuline from that place where he does not know he is, and reign over thyself as Sovereignly as over thy Subjects. After this violent contest; this Princess thinking that she did not love Myrinthus, because she desired it, did what she could to keep close unto her resolutions, and to gain that victory at one blow, and put herself to the last test, she appointed many days of Hunting, and other recreations, where Philimena and Myrinthus always were; she gave the Bal● unto Philimena very often, thinking to accustom herself to see Myrinthus with Philimen●, without any other sorrow or interest. Thus striving to quench that flame which burned in her heart towards Myrinthus, she augmented the flames of Myrinthus to Philimena, by giving him so many occasions of seeing her; and she herself would sometimes cause Philimena to answer the affection of Myrinthus; for indeed, since Cleobuline intended to conquer herself, during these three days of feasting and diversions, she expressed as much friendship unto Myrinthus, as he expressed love to Philimena: So that by this means the fair and young Philimena seeing her Lover in such favour with the Queen, did also look upon him with a more gracious eye. Basilides, who feared nothing more than to displease Cleobuline, durst not express any mislike that Myrinthus courted his Sister. Thus the Queen, without any conquest of herself, helped Myrinthus to conquer the heart of Philimena, who certainly esteemed him with as much affection as her virtue would permit her.  
But whilst Cleobuline was contributing unto the felicity of Myrinthus, she disturbed her own; for the more she saw him, the less able she saw herself to cease loving him, and to endure she should love Philimena, when she saw him talk in a low voice unto that fair & young Lady, she would change colour, her heart would beat a Lover's pace, and suspecting that he was expressing his affection, her soul suffered inexpressible tortures: If he at any time chanced to commend Philimena, she was strangely troubled, and if Philimena commended Myrinthus, Cleobuline could not hold from contradicting her, though she esteemed Myrinthus above all the world. In the mean time, though the Queen found a strange rebellion in her heart, and that there was a continual contrariety betwixt her reason and herself, yet she did obstinately strive many days to vanquish her passion; but at last, she found that all her attempts were in vain, and that the most she could do was to hide it; and she thought that also to be a piece of difficulty, unless she should hide herself and all: And indeed Cleobuline not being able to restrain herself, did feign sickness, to the end she might not see either Myrinthus or Philimena, hoping still that this absence from them might recover her liberty, yet this restraint and retreat had not that operation which she 〈◊〉: For when Myrinthus was out of her sight, she imagined him always 〈◊〉 the 〈…〉 Philimena: So that in he● of releasing her mind, she did the more engage it. 〈…〉, that 〈◊〉 desiring to know where Myrinthus was, she would send seve 〈…〉 office, and still she was told, that they found him 〈…〉 blowed by the bellows of jealousy, in 〈◊〉 of 〈…〉 that she would accuse her own folly and 〈…〉 a 〈◊〉 much in her favour, and more in her 〈…〉 would have her with her even at those 〈◊〉 〈…〉, since this Princess 〈…〉 turally merry, Stesilea much wondered to see her so melancholy, not being able to imagine what the cause was, for she was infinitely adored by all her people, peace and abundance did flow over all parts of her Dominious, all her Neighbours States did highly esteem her, her reputation reached over all the world, and there was nothing visible which could molest her happiness: So that Stesilea seeing such an alteration in the Queen, resolved to take the liberty of ask her the cause, at the first opportunity which offered itself; and she was not long before she found it, for the Queen did herself give it one night when they were alone together: Tell me truly Stesilea, said the Princess to her, Do you not desire to know the cause of my melancholy? Did I as well know how to divine your Majesty's thoughts, replied she, as you do mine, I should quickly satisfy my curiosity of knowing what it is that troubles you: The truth is Madam, the condition wherein I see you makes me most sadly inquisitive, for knowing you to be wise and prudent, I am most confident you are not melancholy without a cause, and not knowing what it is which disquiets you, I thought it the duty of my love to you, to be sorry in your behalf.  
Cleobuline hearing Stesilea speak so feelingly, and knowing that she did love her with m●c● tenderness, she resolved to unburthen her heart, since it was not possible that any one soul should contain all those resentments which she had of her own glory, of her love to Myrinthus, and of her jealousy of Philimena: But since she was strangely ashamed of her own weakness, she drew the Tissue Curtain of that bed whereon she sat, to the end that darkness might hely her in discovering unto Stesilea those torments of her soul. After that, she had prepared Stesilea with a long preamble, and Stesilea had promised inviolable fidelity, she began to speak as if she had committed some horrid crime: You have good reason Stesilea (said she unto her) to say I am changed from what I was; for the truth is, I am not that woman whom all the world takes me to be; I know very well that I have the happiness of a reputation high enough, and that all Princes do either esteem me, or look upon me with an eye of envy, yet I must tell you, tha● if they knew my heart, they would look upon me either with an eoe of pity, or else with an eye of scorn: Oh Madam (replied Stesilea) the last of these can never be: Yes, replied the Queen, sooner than the first, if my condition were but known: But Stesilea, the greatest comfort of my misfortune is, that I hope none will ever know it, and that though I tell it unto you, yet it will sleep in eternal oblivion. Certainly Madam you may be confident, answered Stesilea, that I will never reveal any secret which you shall honour me with the participation; therefore I beseech your Majesty to tell me what it is which disquiets you, that I may endeavour a remedy. As soon as I offer to open my mouth, replied Cleobuline, to tell you the cause of my misery, anger and shame shuts it again: I cannot find words to express my thoughts, and I do find such a confusion in all my thoughts, that I can give no order unto my words; one while I would desire you to excuse my folly, before I acquaint you what it is; sometimes I have a desire to tell what the matter is and presently after I alter my mind, and resolve to tell you nothing at all; therefore my dear Stesil●a, if you can guests what the cause of my grief is: But hold (said she and reprehended herself) I would not have you guess, and though you have some such suspicion, I conjure you not to tell it, for if you should guests it, I should believe all the world might do the like, and so I should be the most miserable Princess upon earth. Since Stesilea naturally had a passionate soul, she knew by the manner of the Queen's discourse, that love was that cause of her sorrows, but yet she could not imagine with whom it should be that she was in Love, but very sweetly replied, that since she desire to know no farther than she was pleased to allow her, she would not dive deeper into the business than her Majesty pleased: Though I am persuaded, (said she) that one may impart all things unto one that is faithful: But Madam (said she purposely to serve out the secret) what can it be that is so difficult to be discovered? All the world knows all your actions to be innocent and most illustrious, and if you be culpable in any thing, certainly there is none that can testify against you but yourself, and that perhaps for entertaining some thoughts which were too high: Oh Stesilea, replied the Queen, ambition is no part of my crime, were I as f●ee from all other passions as from that, my soul would be at more tranquillity; but since I must tell you that which I cannot conceal, know Stesilea, that there is one in the world, who whether I will yr no, hath such a share in my heart, as that I cannot hate him, though I would, and though I have a strange desire unto it: I thought (replied Stesilea) that your Majesty had some horrid design to subvert all the Laws of your Dominions, to begin some unjust war, and to establish some tyrannical Government, since you did so highly accuse yourself; but for aught I see you are culpable of nothing, unless in that you will not permit one to adore you, or in that you have not hated some illustrious Slave, who doubtless doth love and adore you with a most reverend passion: Ah Stesilea, said Cleobuline, my fate is worse than you imagine it, and since I must discover the very root of my heart unto you, know, that I love one who knows it not, and one who loves another, yet such is the violence of my Love; that I cannot choose but love him, nor can I endure he should love another, though I would not have him know I love him, nor that he should ever tell me that he loves me, though he did; I pray therefore judge Stesilea, whether my condition be not deplorable; and whether I have not good reason to be much ashamed of my weakness: Since I cannot condemn your Majesty (replied Stesilea) unless I should condemn myself, I beseech you give me leave to tell you, that I cannot accuse you at all, for since I know you are not ignorant of my cruel disaster at Jalissa, where I fell in love with a man, who made me the confident of his affection unto another, I thought good then to accuse and condemn myself as your Majesty doth: But I most humbly beseech you Madam, who is this happy man that hath made this illustrious Conquest? This Conqueror, replied Cleobuline, is the Slave of Philimena: Judge therefore Stesilea, if I have not good reason to be ashamed, for though I know you are culpable of the same crime that I am, yet I cannot excuse myself, and to say the truth, there is some difference betwixt you and me, for he whom you loved was your equal, and you were not obliged to render an account of your actions unto any but yourself: But Stesilea, I must render an account of mine unto all the world, I have a transcendent glory to preserve, and I prefer that glory above my life; yet I love one of my Subjects above myself, and which is worse, I love him, and am not loved, but sees him desperately in love with another; had I so much happiness as to be so blinded by my passion, that I could think myself in no fault, I should be less miserable, and more excusable, but to my torment, the Gods have left me so much reason as to see my own weakness, and yet have not left me power enouhg to surmount it: But Madam, replied Stesilea, to justify you by your own words, is it not sufficient to stop all accusations, that you have done all you were able to subdue the passion of your soul? For truly Madam, I cannot conceive that virtue consists in having no passions, Nature gives them unto all, and they can never be totally subdued but by death; I am confidently persuaded, that so these passions prompt us not unto any thing which is against true glory, we are not culpable, though we cannot subdue them; therefore Madam, in lieu of accusing you, as you do yourself, you ought to be commended, for striving so courageously against that which is the most powerful of all passions; and you ought to consider with a little more tranquillity, which way you may vanquish them, or render them less intolerable. As for vanquishing them, replied the Queen, I will never hope for it, though I am resolved to strive as long as I live; and as for making them less intolerable, the way is very difficult to be found. Moreover Stesilea, there is one thing which doth extremely torment me, for I am persuaded that if Myrinthus knew my thoughts of him, they would stagger his sidelity unto Philimena; and sometimes again I have thoughts, that the Crown I wear keeps him from loving me: I believe I have an infallible way to make him break off with Philimena, but it is a way I will never take, for there is nothing in the world I fear more, then that Myrinthus should know I love him: Then Madam, said Stesilea, What will content you? That I had never loved Myrinthus, replied she: For to talk of ceasing from loving him, is to talk of a thing impossible, neither my heart nor my reason will ever consent unto it: Then Madam, replied Stesilea, I cannot easily think you can be in such a miserable condition, but you may find out ways to be happpie: Truly Stesilea, replied Cleobuline, the state of my fortune is such, that I know no way to happiness, but only to wish it: For since the fate of Myrinthus is not sit to be a King, I cannot be any thing else but a lump of misfortunes, yet I do conceive something that would render me something less miserable than I am: I beseech you Madam, said Stesilea, what is it that will be any ease unto your misery? I would have Myrinthus (said she) not to love Philimena, but would have him love me, but love me without ever telling me of it, or without ever knowing that I love him, and I would have all the world ignorant of that passion which was in our souls: I pray judge then Stesilea, whether there be any possibility of my happiness, truly I can never pretend unto so 〈…〉 ch as to hope it, all that I wish is, that Myrinthus did not love Philimena; yet truly I 〈…〉 told you my wish, but shame moves me to alter my opinion, for I feel my love to Myrinthus converts itself into hatred against myself, and that my jealousy of Philimena turns fury against my own reason; therefore Stesilea, I will pause a while until second thoughts have better digested my first, and until I am better resolved upon what I would have you do: This is a most certain and infallible Maxim which is for ever unalterable, that I will never do any thing that shall be opposite unto glory, and that Myrinthus shall never know that I love him. After this, Stesilea had a long conference with Cleobuline, at the conclusion of which nothing was resolved upon; yet this Queen found some ease in her spirits, since she had discharged her heart unto Stesilea, whose tender and passionate soul was very fit to be a confident of such a Noble passion, and ever since she was inseparable from the Queen, who could not live without her: So that according to the custom of all Courts, which is, that as soon as any is admitted into the favour of the Kings or Queens, they are Courted by all the Court: So Stesilea by her new admittance into the Queen's favour, was loadened with civilities and addresses: Basilides himself was very compliant with her, and among the rest Myrinthus, as powerful as he was with the Queen, yet Courted the friendship of Stesilea, to the end she might procure him that Queen's consent unto his design of marrying Philimena; so that by this means she was upon very good terms with Myrinthus, who not knowing the cause of this new favour, did attribute it as all the rest of the Court did, unto the merit of Stesilea, and unto the recommendation of the Princess Eumetis; with whom she spent all the beginning of her life. Thus Myrinthus not knowing the true cause of those many favours wherewith the Queen honoured Stesilea, did Court her favour, in hopes of her doing him a good office by favouring his design. Moreover, in order unto this design, he became more obsequious, more exact, more respectful, and more compliant about the Queen; but the more regularly he demeaned himself, the more did her love and her jealousy both begin to flame; the more obsequious he was, the more she thought him amiable; but also considering that his reason for being so officious about her was, only because he was every day more in love with Philimena, a spiteful jealousy did so rouse her heart, as she phancied as much pleasure in hindering Myrinthus from marrying Philimena, as this Lover did in enjoying her, So that consulting about it one day with Stesilea, she both prayed her, and conjured her, to contribute all her endeavours unto the breaking off of this match: I know well (said she unto her) that I can do it myself by virtue of my Sovereign authority, but there is two strong reasons which restrain me: The first is, because I am extremely afraid that Myrinthus would guests at the cause, and therefore I will not run that hazard: The second is, (if I could not do it without a blush) because I would not have Myrinthus hate me, as doubtless he would, if he should know it to be I who broke off his marriage; therefore Stesilea, I conjure you to employ all your wits to make him alter his opinion of Philimena, or at least to keep him from marrying her; not that I do intend that Myrinthus shall ever know I love him, though you should effect my desired project; but it is so great a pleasure unto any one who is in love, to quash any passion that shall oppose their own, as I would do any thing in the world to see Myrinthus out of love with Philimena: I profess Stesilea (said she) if you can drive her out of the heart of Myrinthus, you shall have as great a share in my heart almost as he hath; for than I imagine I shall with less pain hide that passion which thus rants it in my heart, I shall more easily vanquish it, or at the least shall love him less.  
Stesilea hearing Cleobuline express herself so earnestly, did promise all her endeavours for her satisfaction, and indeed she omitted no opportunity of transacting it: Since she knew Myrinthus to be very ambitious, she undertook one day to persuade him, that to marry so soon was the only way to choke all his ambitious thoughts, since Fortune is always more favourable unto those who are not married, then unto those who are: Afterwards, she told him he was undiscreet, in thinking of any alliance with a Prince whom the Queen loved not, and that if he would take her counsel, she would advise him to devote himself inseparably to the Queen, without any thoughts of any other interest. But since Myrinthus was chained in the Fetters of Love, the policy of Stesilea did not relish; and though he was very ambitious, yet he could not fear what she desired he should; therefore he told her, that he should not recede from the interests of the Queen by marrying Philimena; but on the contrary, should more adhere unto them, since she was the Sister of a man, who must almost of necessity (if ever the Queen marry) marry her: So that Stesilea seeing she could not work upon the spirit of Myrinthus, seemed to yield unto his opinion, to the end he might still think her one of his friends: And she plotted another stratagem to ruin his passion, which was: to intimate unto Philimena by a friend of hers, who was very intimate with her, that she did herself the greatest wrong in the world, by thinking to marry Myrinthus, who though indeed he was a very accomplished man, yet was of too inferiors quality for her. But since Philimena's soul was more sensible of Myrinthus his merits, then of any ambition, this counsel was given in vain: So that Stesilea seeing she could no way quench these flames of affection in either of them, yet she resolved to hinder their marriage, and thought she had found an excellent way for it. I told you already Sir, that Basilides did very much Court the friendship of Stesilea, to the end she might do some good offices to the Queen, of whom he extremely doted. And I also told you, that the reason why he did not thwart the affection of Myrinthus to Philimena, was because he feared to incense the Queen, by crossing the man that was so much in favour with her: Now I must tell you Sir, that Stesilea could not devise any better way to choke the designs of Myrinthus, then by Basilides: So that talking one day with him, she ordered her discourse so handsomely, that she began to talk of Myrinthus, and his love to Philimena. After this, Stesilea did so prepare his Spirit, that she engaged him unto her desires, and moved him to ask her what the Queen thought of that business. Stesilea finding that Basilides was brought unto her own bow, she went on as handsomely as she begun: At first she told him, that she did not very well know the Queen's thoughts, and that if she did, yet she ought not to tell them; afterwards, yielding by degrees unto the request of Basilides, she made him swear a thousand oaths to be faithful unto her: After that, she told him, how she knew certainly that this marrying would displease the Queen, and that the Queen wished with all her heart it were broken off, without her being seen it. Alas Stesilea (said Basilides to her) the matter had never gone so far, if I had not feared the Queen's displeasure in opposing it: But since you assure me, that she doth not approve of this marriage, and that I shall not incur her disfavour by breaking it off, it shall be quickly quashed.  
Stesilea hearing Basilides speak with so much violence, feared lest some quarrel should be betwixt Myrinthus and him; therefore to prevent any such disaster, she told him further, that he should not by any means cross these designs with a noise, because the Queen would not take it well that Myrinthus should be openly affronted, but that his best course would be to make use of the Princess his Mother to command Philimena from any thoughts of Myrinthus, and to treat him as a man whom she would never mar●ie. Basilides followed Stesilia's counsel with a thousand thanks, not thinking that in breaking of the marriage of Myrinthus, he transacted against himself. In the mean time, Stesilia's stratagem was not long before it took effect, for Basilides having set on the Princess his Mother, Philimena was put into a strange perplexity: Since she did most tenderly affect Myrinthus, she could not upon any terms resolve to treat him ill. Also being exceedingly tender of her glory, she was very loath to disobey the commands of a Mother: So that taking the middle way, and that she might neither lose Myrinthus, nor disobey the Princess her Mother, she resolved to acquaint him with the commands which was upon her: At first she had much ado to resolve upon this course, knowing very well that she could not do it without being very obliging towards him: But at last, love being predominate, she resolved to tell him, and to desire him he would see her no more; and all this in such obliging language, as she had not engaged him so much to see her, if she had absolutely commanded it; for he made a thousand vows that he would see her in spite of all the world, and told her peremptorily, that he would leave her; yet Philimena would not upon any terms let him see her at her own lodging; but in lieu therefore they agreed to see each other at the Queens. Thus Stesilea in doing this Princess a good office one way, did her an ill one another way, for she helped her unto the object which of all the world she least desired to see, to wit, Myrinthus often with Philimena: But afterwards, Basilides being assured by Stesilea, that the Queen desired that the marriage might be broken off, he obliged the Princess his Mother to carry Philimena into the Country, so that this absence was an intolerable torment to Myrinthus, yet he was not a sufferer by himself, and perhaps this is the 〈…〉 that ev 〈…〉 the absence of a Rival caused sorrow; yet certainly Cleobul●● could not 〈◊〉 upon Myrinthus so sad for the absence of Philimena, without extreme passage happened which was a great addition to her per 〈…〉, that she being obliged to make a great Feast for the en 〈…〉 Ambassadors which came to her Court, Myrinthus appeared in such 〈…〉 if he were neither to see, or be seen by any, he thinking that since Philimena was not there: it was no matter for dressing himself; and knowing that she had a friend in Court who would send her word of every passage, he hoped that this his negligence would be recompensed another way, not fearing at all that the Queen would interest herself in it. In the mean time, this trivial passage do so incense her sorrows, as sometimes she was in hopes not to love him any longer; but this hope was quickly quashed. Did ever any see such an odd adventure? (said she one night unto Stesilea) all that I ever do to cure myself, or to comfort me, doth more augment my misery: The absence of Philimena, from which I hoped for such sweetness, causeth nothing but bitterness; and I had rather see Philimena, then see that sorrow for her in the face of Myrinthus: Is it possible I should be capable of such fantastical thoughts? I am confident, that those who see me enter into any Closet so often by myself, do think that I am meditating upon some grand designs, and that the good of the state is all my thoughts: Yet weak woman, that I am busied only in thinking whether Myrinthus be sad or pleasant, whether Myrinthus be handsome or negligent in his clothes: Ah Cleobuline, what thoughts are these? Call to memory what heretofore thou wast: Read over all the Eulogies that were presented to thee, to the end they may put thee in mind of deserving them, and be unto thyself the same thou seemest to be unto others: Thou art talked on over all the world, as if thou wert a Lover of virtue and glory, and yet thou lovest Myrinthus who loves not thee, though thou knowest very well, that thou canst not do it without doing that which is unworthy of thy quality: Thou lovest Myrinthus, I say, who loves none but Philimena, and who ought not to enjoy thy affection, though he did love thee as well as he loves her: Be thy own Judge Cleobuline, what baseness of soul it is to do as thou dost: Consider seriously with thyself, what abundance of folly it is to be a Slave unto thy own unruly passions: Remember how the wise Periander thy Father hath told thee a thousand and a thousand times, that tranquillity of mind was the greatest goodness; that this tranquillity of mind was in the soul, like health to the body, without which one could not enjoy any manner of pleasure: Recall thy memory, and think how he told thee, that the love of glory was the only innocent passion; quench those flames of affection which is in thy soul unto Myrinthus; consider, that thy whole rest and glory consists in conquering thyself, and thy crime does lie close in the secret corners of thy soul, yet it will procure thee as much shame as if it were public: How canst thou without a blush receive those commendations which are given thee, since thou knowest thyself unworthy of them? How canst thou enjoy the esteem of others, when thou dost not esteem thyself? Consider Cleobuline, consider seriously, that if Myrinthus whom thou thus adorest, and so tenderly loves, did but know of thy pusilanimious affection to him, he would esteem thee less, and perhaps scorn thee; never be so simple as to think, that if he knew of thy affection to him, he would then quit Philimena; but be confident on the contrary, that he would hate thee, It seems Madam, (says Stesilea and interrupted her) that love is a passion which you are not acquainted with, since you think to vanquish it by reason or violence: Alas my dear Stesilea (said she unto her) with what other arms would you have me vanquish myself? Would you have me submit and render myself without any resistance? No Madam (replied Stesilea) but in wishing you to ruin your passion, I would not have you ruin yourself: But Stesilea, replied she, what would you have a person do, whose heart is as full of shame as love, as full of jealousy as shame, and as full of anger as jealousy? What would you have a Princess do, who has a thousand opposite thoughts in her soul? Who would sometimes always see Myrinthus, and sometimes again never see him; who sometimes wisheth she knew how he loves him, and who in a minute after believe, that she should die for shame if he did know it, who hates Philimena with as much violence as she loves Myrinthus, and who often hates herself, even unto death? Sometimes my dear Stesilea, all the extraordinary passages in History caused by Love comes into my memory. I find some Kings of Egypt, who have made Slaves Queens; and I think I have read of some Queens who have made Slaves Kings: From hence my reason wandered, and looked upon Myrinthus as one of Noble Quality and extraordinary merit; I thought his hand strong enough to hold up the weight of a Sceptre, and that he who reigns in my heart might well reign in my Kingdoms. But after these fond and unworthy imaginations had roven in my mind, my reason began to rouse, and disperse those muddy Clouds which obscured it, and made me so abhor my own thoughts, that I hated both her who entertained them, and him also who was the subject of them; judge then Stesilea, what a restless life I l●ve; and the greatest horror of all is, that in the conclusion of all my raptures, I still find Myrinthus innocent, and Myrinthus worthy of my esteem: For truly he is a man of courage, spirit, and fidelity, and if I could not look upon him as my subject I had all the reasons in the world to be contented with him, yet I complain and know not why I accuse and justify him, I excuse and condemn myself all at once; yet there is always in my heart such a desire of glory, as often moves me, maugre the violence of my passion, to render thanks unto the Gods that Myrinthus loves me not, though this be the thing which most of any thing upon earth grieves me. But I had no sooner rendered thanks unto them for such a cruel favour, than I was ready to petition, that they would inspire the heart of Myrinthus with the same passion that they did mine. Thus being tossed from one turbulent thought unto another, I found not rest in any. After all these violent expressions, the Queen was silent: At last she told Stesilea, that she thought it so unworthy a thing to take so much fruitless pains in breaking off the marriage of Myrinthus, as she would meddle no further in it, but was resolved to leave it to a hazard a while: For I am persuaded (said she) that I do but augment the love of Myrinthus by all my obstacles.  
This resolution being pitched upon, Stesilea ceased her negotiations. In the mean while, Myrinthus, whose passion would never let him rest, endeavoured to gain Basilides who indeed was persuaded by one of his friends, that for the advancement of his designs upon the Queen, it extremely concerned him not to incense Myrinthus, who was so gracious with her; but yet he was at a stand in the business, for he knew by Stesilea that the Queen did not approve of his design to marry Philimena; yet he himself knew, that one could not be more in her favour than he was, and therefore he thought it concerned him to link him unto his interests: So endeavouring not to appear in consenting unto a marriage which the Queen disliked, and not to hinder Myrinthus, he resolved to trust him, and to tell him upon what reasons he opposed his design, not caring to sacrifice his Sister unto his Love. After the place where they might talk in secret was appointed, Basilides told Myrinthus, that the reason why he opposed his affection was, because Stesilea assured him that the Queen did not approved of it: After which, linking their interests together, Myrinthus promised Basilides to serve him in all things that he was able, and Basilides promised Myrinthus not to oppose him any more, provided he got the Queen's approbation. In the mean while, Basilides to begin his favours, caused Philimena to return unto Corinth, upon some slight colour of the business. But as the grief which the Queen saw in the countenance of Myrinthus during Philimena's absence did mun perplex her; so the joys which she saw in him at her return, did drive her into absolute despair.  
Yet for all this, the satisfaction of Myrinthus was not over-full of tranquillity, for now knowing that the Queen was not ignorant of his design, he found it more difficult to bring it to pass, then when he thought Basilides only did oppose him: It was in vain to search out the cause, for he saw that he was as much in her favour as ever; and he did not so much as ever suspect, that she thwarted his passion, only because he was too deep in her heart; yet he thought it his best course to seem as if he were ignorant of her disapproving of his passion; and he thought also, that if he had as much confident boldness as to ask her favour unto his design, that perhaps she would not deny it. Thus after he had well consulted upon the matter with Basilides and with Philimena, it was resolved that he should take that course, and a very favourable opportunity did offer itself, since Myrinthus had done a very considerable piece of service to the Queen, in negotiating with Ambassadors from Lacedemonea, who were then at Corinth, which he transacted with so much wisdom and spirit, that it may well be said he prevented a great and dangerous War. Myrinthus spoke not a word of his design unto Stesilea; for since she was not so open-brested to him as Basilides, he had no mind to speak unto her of it, lest she should dissuade him, or else by her telling Cleobuline of it, she might have more cause to deny him, by giving time to study her reasons for not consenting unto his desires. After he had well thought upon it, he went one morning to the Queen at such an hour, when he knew he might have the conveniency of talking with her, and he went with abundance of hopes to speed well; for when he remembered what honours he had received from this Princess, the great offices she had given him, and all things she had done for him, it could not sink into his belief, that she would deny him the only thing which crowned all his felicities; therefore he resolved that if he found any difficulty in obtaining his desires, then to aggravate his affection unto Philimena in such a manner unto Cleobuline, that she should see he could not live without her. Myrinthus then having thus resolved upon the matter, and being come unto the Queen, he behaved himself as he was wont, when he had business of importance to talk on: So that Cleobuline gave him the opportunity of talking with her in private, without the least suspicion of the truth, imagining he would tell her something which related unto his office; but she wondered, when she knew by the very first words of Myrinthus that she was mistaken: Did I not know Madam, (said he unto her) that I have the honour to be known very well unto your Majesty, I should have cause to fear, that in lieu of granting me a most humble Petition, which I intent to present unto you, that you should accuse me of rashness, and of extreme ambition. After all that I have done for you Myrinthus, replied she, I have very little reason to accuse you of rashness; and I must confess, I cannot understand what you can desire of me, which may move me to think you ambitious: Yet Madam I am strangely afraid your Majesty should mistake one passion for another, and that I having an intention to beg your Majesty's leave to love Philimena, and to protect me against Basilides, you should think me not contented with your benefits, but that I would draw others upon myself by this illustrious alliance: But Madam, I must protest, that ambition is not the cause of my boldness; and if I had only that passion in my soul, I should certainly be the happiest man alive: For indeed Madam, you have honoured me with so many offices, and put me upon such glorious employments, that I know not how to wish any greater: But Madam, if your Majesty will be pleased to let me open my heart, to the end I may excuse my boldness, I shall tell you, that Love is the tyrannical passion of my soul, which moves me to Petition your Majesty with abundance of earnestness to grant my desire: If you had been only ambitious, (replied Cleobuline and blushed) you should sooner obtain your desires; for since I am as well able to satisfy the gusts of that passion, as you can desire them, I should perhaps continue on my favours to you; but to interest me in matters of Love, and such a Love as yours, this Myrinthus is a thing which I cannot meddle in: Many reasons, best known unto myself, which I cannot impart unto you, makes me dislike your desired Marriage, yet not that I think you unworthy of Philimena: For to testify unto you (added she) being transported with raptures of Love) that I do not deny my assent out of any disadvantageous thoughts of you, I do confer upon you the best office in my Dominions, which you became vacant of lately. Alas Madam, replied Myrinthus, rather command me to surrender all those honours you have formerly conferred upon me, then deny me Philimena. Since Love is often a fading passion, replied she, and since ambition on the contrary, is a passion which follows those who are once tainted with it, even unto death, when the Gusts of your Love is a little blown over, you will be glad I satisfied your ambition. I beseech you Madam, replied Myrinthus, judge not of me according unto the common Rules of others; and believe that I am more amorous than ambitious, and ever shall be so. Since that belief will not be advantageous unto you, answered the Queen, I will not entertain it, but will continue in the same opinion I was. I know very well Madam, replied Myrinthus, that you may justly deny me all things, and I cannot justly complain: But since the passion which raiges in me is not accustomed to acknowledge any Sovereignty unto reason, I cannot choose but tell your Majesty, that it is something strange you should deny me this favour which I do ask of you, after conferring so many favours upon me which I never asked, all which are nothing to me without this: Yes Madam (said Myrinthus, being transported with the violence of his Love) Philimena is so essentally necessary unto the felicity of my life, that I cannot live without some hopes of enjoying her: As for hope (replied Cleobuline with extreme grief and anger) I will not take it from you, for some men will often hope against all manner of probability, but as for Philimena, I will never per 〈…〉 it; & if you marry her, it shall be without my consent: I know very well, said she; that after so much goodness as I have formerly extended towards you, it may seem something strange I should deny you a thing which you ●o earnestly desire, and deny it without giving you any reason for my denial: But know Myrinthus, that this reason is of such a nature, as I cannot tell it; yet it is so strange a reason, that it is invincible; and if you did know it, you would confess, that if you were in my room, you would do the like: And I assure you, it will not be a greater difficulty for you to cast off Philimena, then for me to consent that you should ever think on her; therefore Myrinthus solicit me no more in the matter, for all will be in vain: Let if suffice, that of two passions. I shall satisfy that which 〈◊〉 used to be most difficult to content; and if you will be happy, over come the other courageously. Alas Madam (said Myrinthus and sighed) it seems your Majesty is only a lover of glory and virtue, since you think it such an easy matter to drive out of my heart a hot-burning passion which keeps a most violent possession. No, no, Pbilimena will not out so easily: Doubtless I may resolve not to marry her and die, but I cannot leave loving her and live; therefore Madam, it is in your choice, whether you will glve me death or Philimena: The reverend duty which I owe your Majesty, tan go no further: If you doom me to death, I will endeavour to receive it without murmur, but if you grant me life and Philimena, what would I not do to testify my acknowledgements? Consider Madam, I beseech you, that your last words will be a sentence either of life or death unto a man whom you have so much esteemed, as to honour him with abundance favours and benefits: Consider I say, that if you permit me to enjoy Philimena, I shall serve you all the rest of my life with unutterable zeal: And consider also, that if you forbid the bains those cruel words will be poison, which passing from your mouth into my ears, will pass from my ears unto my heart, and there most infallibly will be my death, a death the most severe and tormentive in the world, since pronounced by the greatest Queen upon earth, and whom I held in such reverend esteem; for the most certain truth is Madam, that I have yeen as zealously devoted unto your glory, as unto Philimena; and I do protest, that I am as faithful a subject unto you, as I am a faithful lover unto her: Then yield obedience, replied Cleobuline, unto those orders which I command, and obey them willingly: I wish unto the heaven's Madam that I could, replied he, but since I cannot unless I die, I beseech you command them no more; let it suffice I wish that I loved Philimena less; and believe it I most humbly beseech you, that if I were able to quench those flames which offend you, I should most joyfully do it, knowing very well, that a Princess whose heart is sensible only of glory, would the more esteem me, if mine were not so sensible of Love: But the case is unalterable with me Madam, 'tis you must pronounce the fatal words of life or death: Live then (said Cleobuline unto him, scarce knowing what she said) but live without Philimena, unless you will both live and die in my displeasure: I will live Madam if I can, replied he, since you command it; but since I am confident that I cannot, I shall die in my sorrows that I cannot know why I die; but I shall die with this satisfaction, that I shall die the most faithful, though the most unfortunate of all your Subjects. After this, Myrinthus made a most low and reverend Congee unto the Queen with such a sad and drooping countenance, that any other than a Lover would have pitied him. No sooner was Myrinthus gone out of the Queen's Closet, but Stefilea entered, and she was no sooner entered, but Cleobuline commanded that none else should enter; and then she related unto her all the passages between Myrinthus and herself, and that with so much agitation of spirits, that the passion of her soul was very discernible: Did you know, said she unto her, with what zealous earnestness Myrinthus asaed leave to marry Philimena, you would wonder how I could deny him, or you would wonder I should not hate him, and admire how I could conceal the jealousy of my soul, yet to my unspeakable misery, the more he seemed in Love with Philimena, the more he blew the flame of my affection unto him: Alas (said I unto myself whilst he was talking) how happy should I be, if Myrinthus were as affection unto me, as unto another? and when he protested that he was as much devoted unto my glory as unto Philimsna, I had much ado to withhold from saying, that his nearest way of happiness was to be as much devoted unto my person as unto my service: But thanks be to the heavens, my reason rowzing up to aid me, I abhorred a thought so base and unworthy of myself, and I was more than half resolved to allow the marriage of Myrinthus with Philimena, thereby to drive Myrinthus out of Cleobulines heart; but my mouth would not obey the offers of my mind, which neither my heart nor reason did not command▪  
Thus my dear Stesilea, I have denied Philimena unto Myrinthus, and I have still kept Myrinthus in my heart, notwithstanding his extreme love of Philimena; yet 〈…〉 these violent flames of affection which I saw in his soul, did inspire such 〈◊〉 mine, and I could not be more angry if Myrinthus had been ungrateful and perfidio 〈…〉 ●ut presently after my anger ceased, and I accused myself of the most horrible 〈◊〉 in the world Indeed I must confess unto my shame, that one could not be 〈…〉 ●ust than I 〈…〉 business, for as violent as my affection to Wyrinthus was, 〈…〉 ●ould never 〈◊〉 that he should know it; and that though he had loved me, 〈◊〉 ●id not allow 〈◊〉 so much boldness as to sell me of it; so that it must needs b●● 〈◊〉 the greatest ●olly and 〈◊〉 in the world to 〈◊〉 Myrinthus miserable: But for all that, I pha 〈…〉 so great a consolation in seeing him out of love with Philimena, and I found so much delight in making myself believe that he loved me, and knew not that I loved him, as I could not by any means consent that he should either love or marry Philimena; yet for all this, I am persuaded that he will marry her, maugre all my commands to the contrary; and that he will force me to banish him my Court, to withdraw all my favours from him, and to punish him for contempt of my authority: But alas what's this I talk, said she, Can I think of banishing Myrinthus my Court, since I cannot banish him my heart, that there is much more justice in that, then in banishing him out of my Dominions: For my part Madam, replied Stesilea, I am not of your opinion, for I am persuaded that Myrinthus will not marry Philimena without your consent: Though he do not marry her without my consent, replied Cleobuline, yet assuredly he will still hate me, and love her; so that whether he marry, or marry her not, I shall still be miserable. However Madam, replied Stesilea, I beseech you devise some stratagem or other, and see whether I can contribute any thing to your satisfaction: I have devised more than you imagine (said she) for in lieu of one stratagem, I have two continually in my mind, but yet they are very opposite unto each other, and therefore I think that neither of them will take effect; for truly I have a mind to make Myrinthus love me, and I have a mind to cease loving him; judge then Stesilea, whether two such impossibilities can ever conduce any thing to my souls tranquillity. After this, Cleobuline told Stesilea a hundred things, which testified the grandeur of her passion, and the grandeur of her virtue. In the mean time, she became so sad, so unquiet, and so extremely melancholy since the day that Myrinthus asked leave to marry Philimena, as Stesilea much feared her falling sick. On the other side, Myrinthus was in such a horrid despair, that never man was fuller of sorrows; for he knew that Basilides (notwithstanding the league between them) would never let him marry Philimena without Cleobulines consent: Also considering his obligements unto the Queen, he knew it a most unworthy act to disobey her. Moreover, having a soul very ambitious, he could not see how he could have wherewith to satisfy his love, if he should lose his fortunes, so that he suffered intolerable torments; but the greatest torture of all was, that he could not guests at the Queen's reason to oppose his design; and to complete his miseries, Philimena understanding that the Queen would not consent unto her marriage, she told Myrinthus, to try his fidelity, that she would not have him ruin his fortunes for her sake; and therefore conjured him to think no more of it. Philimena told him this in such a manner, as that he could not guests at her design; but on the contrary, did think, that she said so, because she feared to leave the Court. Afterwards, he suspected that some Rival was perhaps more in her favour than he imagined: So that he was as ill satisfied from her, as from the Queen, and yet he made a thousand vows and protestations of love unto her, the most tender and passionate in the world; he complained against her taking so much care of his fortunes, he swore that he would not value them at a straw, but only because he was loath to make her miserable; and he was so full of such tender and obliging expressions, that Philimena being delighted to hear such generous tests of his love, did still oppose him, though it was with a design to tell him afterwards, that provided he could get her Parent's consent, she would not care for the Queens. In the mean time, Myrinthus not knowing her design, did leave her with a very little satisfaction, and carried with him a heart full of sorrow, and some jealousy.  
At his going from her, he went unto Stesilea, to desire her she would be pleased to tell him what the Queen's reason was to be so cross unto his design, after so many favours showed unto him. The first compliments being past, Myrinthus began to entreat her she would be pleased to do him a favour: It would be so great a happiness (said she unto him) to do such a most accomplished man as yourself any service, that you may almost be certain to obtain whatsoever you shall desire, so it be within the compass of my power: Yes Stesilea, said he unto her, you can tell me what it is which ruins me in the opinion of the Queen: I assure you, replied she, I cannot tell you that, but I am most certain, that you are not in any disfavour with her: Ah Stesilea, replied he, it is impossible I should be at all in her favour, for she hath denied me the only request that ever I asked, and the request is of such a nature, as I admire why she did not consent unto it: I know very weil that Philemena is above me, but I have received so many graces, honours, and benefits from the Queen, that I could not imagine a denial of this from her: For heavens ●ake Stesilea, tell me the cause of my misfortune; Have I at any time done any thing that displeased the Queen? Have I any secret Enemy that does me any ill offices? Hath Basilides betrayed me, and desired her underhand to deny me a thing which openly he seemed to wish? Or is it so, that the Queen thinks me in love with Philimena only as a cloak for my ambition? Does she fear, that when I have married her, I shall press her to marry Basilides? Does she look upon me as a factious person, who would stir up the people, and raise a war against her? Speak Stesilea, tell me, for I am sure you know all that I desire to know: In thinking me Sir (said she) in such favour with the Queen as to know her secret thoughts, doubtless you honour me, and have a good opinion of me; but all that I can tell you is, that I do not know one thought she hath which is not advantageous to you: When I call to memory all the honours which I have received from the Queen, replied he, I do easily believe what you say; but when I consider what she hath denied me, I have reason to think she hath changed her mind, and does not esteem me. The last office which she conferred upon you, replied she, will hardly permit you to speak thus: I pray then tell me, said he unto her, What is the motive which induceth the Queen not to let me love Philimena? You know (said Stesilea unto him) that there are some things which policy forbids to tell the cause of them: I know replied he, that the Queen may have so good an opinion of me, as to honour me with the trust of her reasons why she denies me, if policy only were in the business; so that I must of necessity conclude, that her reason is, either because she hates Philimena, or because she hates me; and therefore Stesilea I conjure you to tell me what you know in the business; never fear that I shall be ever so indiscreet as to reveal the least ●illable you will trust me with the participation: A person in love, replied she, was never fit to keep secrets; Believe it Stesilea; replied he, as deep in Love as I am, I may be trusted, for I am most confident, that Love will never make me do any thing against honour or honesty: Be assured, that if I promise not to tell what you trust me with unto Philimena, I shall perform it: I beseech you pity a most unhappy man who suits with you in this, that he loves the Queen as well as you do: It is my misfortune to think, that if Bas●lides crossed my design, I should be less unfortunate than I am. But that the Queen, whose glory I value at so high a rate that I would die to advance it, that she should render me the most miserable of her Subjects, that is such a thing Stesilea that I must needs lament: Since Cleobuline is of a Quality so high, that it becomes me not to tell her what thoughts I have of her, I am sure she knows mine, but very imperfectly; doubtless she thinks me devoted to her service, and that I am her most faithful Subject; but perhaps she does not think me obliged unto it, by honour, by interest, and by gratitude; yet I must tell you Stesilea (to the end I may the more oblige you to tell me what I desire to know) that I am a thousand times more obliged and devoted unto her by inclination, then by any thing else: Yes Stesilea, I love the Queen with so much devotion, that I have not more love to Ph●limena, than I have tenderness to Cleobuline: Nay more, I am fully persuaded, that if this Queen had been of a lower quality, perhaps I should have been so bold as to have Courted her with a very affectionate eye: Judge then, I beseech you, how sad a thing it is to receive a death from a hand that is so infinitely dear unto me; for heaven's sake therefore, tell me the cause of my misfortune, that I may know either how to overcome it, or to submit my mind unto it; for I do profess unto you, that if you do not something more inform my understanding, I shall be forced to take some desperate course with myself.  
Wilt Myrinthus was thus talking, Stesilea was ruminating upon what course to take, she saw that reason bade her not discover the Queen's secrets▪ 〈…〉 side, she saw him in such a desperate sadness, that she much feared it woe 〈…〉 Moreover, though Cleobuline had told her ten thousand times, that she 〈…〉 Myrinthus know her passion; yet since she thought his knowledge of 〈…〉 quench his flames of affection unto Philimena, and kindle them unto her, she th' 〈…〉 that the Queen would not be much offended at it; so that knowing Myrinthus to be o● an ambitious temper, and hearing from his own mouth that he had much inclination to love the Queen, so that she doubted not, but if she told him the reason why the Queen crossed his design, it would hinder him from marrying Philimena. Also, Stesilea perhaps looking upon the advancement of her own fortunes (which she hoped for by this confidence) as upon the Queen's tranquillity, she consulted with herself whether she should acquaint him with it or no. Since she knew Myrinthus to be very discreet, she was the much bolder to venture upon it, and more, when upon second thoughts she found that she should run no hazard at all: For truly (said she to herself, hardly hearing what Myrinthns said unto her) if what I shall tell him do not stagger his constancy, yet for his own interest he will never let the Queen know he knows she loves him, since that would be an affront which would reflect upon himself; and if what I tell him do make him quit Philimena and love Cleobuline, I need not fear her anger, though she charged me not to let Myrinthus know she loved him; and though she would never have Myrinthus to tell her that he loved her. Stesilea then considering the pitiful case wherein the Queen was, she thought it fit, for her rests sake, to hazard the matter, and for her service to reveal her secret, since she knew no better way; therefore she began to think into what language she should put so delicate and nice a business. In the mean time, Myrinthus having done talking, and seeing that Stesilea was more intent upon her own thoughts then his words, began to think more than before, that there was some mysterious cause in the matter, and that Stesilia's silence arg●ed her incertaiatie, whether she should, or she should not tell it unto him: So that applying his earnest prayers to prevent her from any resolution contrary unto his desires; For heaven's sake, dear Stesilea (said he unto her) study no more upon the matter, but tell me plainly, whether the Queen denied my request out of hatred, or out of scorn, or out of any other prejudicated thought? The thing you ask, replied Stesilea, is of greater consequence than you imagine, and it is a secret of such a nature, as I cannot trust you, unless you will most solemnly swear never to reveal it unto any one living, not excepting Philimena herself; and I will have you make a particular oath concerning her alone, who of all that lives upon earth must not know it. Myrinthus hearing Stesilea speak thus, his curiosity did double: So that he made as many promises, and vows, and oaths as she desired, never to speak one syllable of any thing she should impart, either unto Philimena, or any other. All this was not yet enough to secure Stesilea, for she would have him swear also, never to make it known unto the Queen, neither by his words, nor any other action, that he is knowing in what she is going to tell him.  
Myrinthus now being more surprised, and more inquisitive than before, did swear and promise all she desired: After which, she assuming a very serious look and low voice, though none was near that could hear her, but himself: I make no question (said she unto him) but you wonder to see me so cautious in relating a thing which only concerns yourself; but your wonder will be much more, when you shall understand, that this which I would have you so closely conceal, is the most glorious thing in the world for you: Yes Myrinthus, pursued she, this which makes you thus sad, this which moves you so to complain of the Queen, that which you so bitterly murmur at, that which makes you think she hath changed her opinion of you; that this, I say, should be the most glorious adventure of all your life; and that when Cleobuline in confirming so many offices, so many Governments, and so many honours upon you, did in them nothing so obliginglie for you, as when she denied you the marrying Philimena. Ah Stesilea, (said he unto her) You will have much ado with all your wit to persuade me unto this belief: If I have but the power to tell you all I know (replied she) you will easily believe it: But Myrinthus (said she and blushed) Cannot you spare me the labour of telling that which I have promised never to reveal? Can you not guests at what you desire to know? Let it suffice, I tell you for the opening of your apprehension, that it is neither policy, nor hatred, or scorn, which moves the Queen to deny you Philimena. After all this Myrinthus, I pray tell yourself that which I have not power to tell you, especiailie when I call to mind the promises which I have made to the Queen, never to tell it. Myrinthus hearing Stesilea speak in this manner, began to apprehend what she hinted at, but he apprehended it with so much astonishment, and so much perplexity of Spirit, as he thought that he misapprehended her; his thoughts were so ravelled, as he could not unwind them to the bottom; yet to run no hazard, he answered Stesilea a little from the matter. The thing which it seems you would have me apprehend (said she unto him) is so very full of wonder, as I fear that I should commit a crime in seeming to apprehend it: No, no, Myrinthus, replied Stesilea, it is no crime to understand me; but you will be extremely too blame, if after you understand me, you do not what I conceive you are obliged unto: Alas Stesilea (cried Myrinthus) I cannot comprehend how I can believe you, unless I should fail in my respects unto the Queen; no, no, her denial is not caused be any reason you would give me; and I think it better to misunderstand you, and to accuse you as an Imposture, rather than to accuse the greatest Queen upon Earth of so bad a choice. Stesilea seeing Myrinthus either would not, or would not seem to believe her, did so circumstance the matter unto him, as at last she convinced his belief; and he calling to memory a hundred several passages, especially the manner how the Queen denied his Marriage with Philimena, he did not at all doubt of the truth: Since he was not at all satisfied at the last conference with Philimena, he could not imagine himself loved by the most illustrious Queen in the world, without some thoughts which elevating his heart, did exhilerate his spirits, and ambition did so swell his soul, as his imagination was full of Thrones, and Sceptres, and Crowns: The beauty, spirit, wisdom, and virtue of Cleobuline did so stagger his thoughts, as for a while there was an interregnam in his heart. In the interval of which, he thought he could give it unto which he pleased, and strongly phancied to give it entirely unto Cleobuline, and that he could quit Philimena: But this inward tumult, which glory and ambition had raised in his soul, being a little calmed, his love to Philimena began to revive, and made him think this honour which the Queen did him, as a thing which would render him the most miserable man alive. This serenity of soul was no sooner established in his heart, but turbulent clouds began to bluster again, and he was so full of contradictions in his talk to Stesilea, as the trouble of his Spirits was evident: I beseech you Stesilea, said he unto her, before I tell you my thoughts, promise me never to tell the Queen that you have acquainted me with any thing: for Stesilea, if she should know I know it, I have nothing in the world to do but die at your feet, since it is impossible I can appear before her, the most ungrateful and unjust person that lives amongst men. I have already told you Sir replied she, that I would not have the Queen know I have discovered her secret unto you: 'Tis true, said he, but I am so sensible of shame, that I am not so joyed as I ought to be, as I am at an extreme Dilemna; for I must confess unto you, that my fidelity to Philimena makes me ashamed of my crime against her, as well as against the Queen; and I am persuaded, that if Cleobuline and Philimena did see the thoughts of my heart, they would both of them be equally incensed: I am forced to confess, that I cannot apprehend my obligations to the Queen without such agitation of mind, as I am not able to express, I would willingly die a thousand times to do her service, I would leave loving Philimena, and only adore her; I would; I say, sacrifice my life, and render her eternal homage: But presently after, when I think upon Philimena, I wish the Queen to hold me in a state of neutrality and indifferency, and indeed to hate me, provided she will let me love Philimena: Judge then Stesilea, I beseech you, in what a sad condition that heart is which is tormented with such various and contrary thoughts: However it be, said she, I conceive you owe so much reverence to the Queen, as not to think any more of Philimena: I wish to the heavens (replied he) that I were able to follow your counsel: I do not ask any thing which is unjust (said she) For since the Queen would not have you know she loves you, and though you did love her, yet would she have you not tell it unto her; I will not oblige you of necessity to love her, but only to ease her of so much sorrow, as to see you love another; and this I conceive to be the least you can do, for the most wise, virtuous, and most accomplished Princess in the world: Alas Stesilea, said he, I know that my duty is to do all things, but the great difficulty is to know what I am able to do against myself, and against Philimena: And since all your arguments are not strong enough to stagger my constancy, or render me perfidious; you would have me leave Philimena for the greatest Queen in the world; 'tis true, but it is for a Queen who will not have me know she loves me, and who would have me love her, and never speak of it: No, no, Stesilea, such a passion as this is not able to make a man perfidious, who is accustomed to tell her he loves, that he loves her. A man, I say, who has leave to sigh, and liberty to let his love be seen in his eyes, and to seek for some advantageous thoughts in the eyes of his Mistress, which her tongue dare not utter. But what if upon capitulation the Queen should let me know her thoughts, and let me tell her mine? Am I yet the Master of my own heart? Can I dispose of it as as I will? Alas, alas (said he and sighed) how miserable am I? and how far from that power? Could I be innocent either towards the Queen or towards Philimena, my heart would be at some ease: But to speak truth, since I cannot be faithful unto Philimena, until after I have tried not to be so, my constancy is almost guilty; and as for the Queen, though I am culpable against her with abundance of repugnance, shame, and repentance, yet still I am guilty. Thus not knowing well what I am, I dare neither justify nor accuse myself, but still remain in the most lamentable condition in the world: Since it seems impossible for you to be happy, replied Stesilea, therefore take that course which may ease the Queen of those sorrows which you have caused; you may easily do it, since all is but to think no more upon Philimena: Easily do it (replied Myrinthus and looked upon Stesilea) If I were able, I would immediately become perfidious: Yes Stesilea, since you have told me the Queen's reason for denying my request, there is nothing which my heart hath not already invented against Philimena: I have opposed against her the Queen's beauty, her spirit, her wisdom, her virtues, her grandeur, and all my obligations to her; and the sooner to vanquish, I have racked my imagination even unto folly, I have phancied things that might accrue unto me, I have allowed my ambition all the swinge that vanity itself can imagine, and I have set my thoughts so near a Crown, that some second thoughts correcting the first, I have blushed at my own audacity and rashness: But for all this Stesilea, This great Queen who reigns so absolutely in the hearts of all who know her, and who indeed hath right to reign, cannot drive Philimena out of my own heart; therefore if you have any generosity, pity my imbecility and misery: Tell the Queen as from yourself, that I am most unworthy of her affection, that she abaseeth herself too much in looking upon me; and since I dare not presume to lift up my eyes so high as her, I am not worthy of her looks: But yet I beseech you, do not drive the nail too far, and do not make her pass from love to hatred; for indeed Stesilea, I must profess unto you, that I should be almost as sorry to be hated by Cleobuline, as not to be loved by Philimena, therefore I beseech you transact with all your discretion; for since I must die, I desire I may with the glory of her favour. I have yet one Petition more unto you, which is, that you would keep her from hating Philimena; and in order to that, persuade her, that in conquering my heart she will never displease Philimena: And persuade her also if you can, that I deserve some commendations for resisting her charms. These are things so full of contrarieties, replied she, that I think my best course is to do none of these things you speak of: Yet I do most constantly tell you, replied he, that I shall ever love Philimena; but withal, I tell it with a sigh, and with a blush, and that I cannot resent the happiness which I enjoy for thinking of that which I lose. Oh heavens (cried he out) why is't not possible to reconcile the Queen and Philimena in my heart? For my part, I conceive it may be; for as you express the affection of the Queen, methinks she should be satisfied that I hold her in infinite reverence, that I respect her as they use to do the Gods; that my Spirits and my reason doth acknowledge her power, that I vow all my services unto her, that my valour shall be ever employed unto her glory, and that she only leave my heart unto Philimena. But what do I say (said he and reprehended himself) it seems my reason wanders, in offering to prescribe Laws unto Love, and to divide that which will not admit of any division: I must confess, the Queen deserves a thousand hearts if I had them; but confess also, that since I have but one, and that one already given, it is not in my power to retake it, and that it is only Philimena's.  
As Stesilea was ready to reply, Basilides entered, who was much surprised to find so many signs of a troubled mind in the face of Myrinthus. This thought did so much disquiet him, as when Myrinthus rise up to go away, he rise up also to ask him what the matter was, though he was newly entered, yet Myrinthus did not tell him what the matter was, but to say something to colour the matter, he told him, that having desired Stesilea to do him a good office unto the Queen, she told him how resolute the Queen continued in denying his Marriage with Philimena: So that Basilides having some reason to think, that the disorder he observed in the Spirit of Myrinthus proceeded only from the obstruction which he found in his design, did make him new protestations, and professed he would use his utmost endeavours to effect it; after which, they parted; Myrinthus carrying with him the most restless heart that ever was. Since his soul was of an ambitious temper, and since he naturally bore much affection to the Queen, this love of this Princess did huff him up; and when he considered with himself what glory it was unto him to be loved by a Queen so fair, so illustrious, and so charming, it was a thing impossible but he must needs be joyed at it; and to desire that he were able to be perfidious unto Philimena; yet when he began to think, that by preserving the one, he must lose the other, his ambition began to yield unto his love, and all his cares was to find out ways how to enjoy Philimena: But since these ways were hard to find, the Queen not consenting unto it; he was most extremely grieved. Moreover, he had cause to think that if he married Philimena against the mind of Cleobuline, she would then abase him as much as she had formerly exalted him: So fearing lest Philimena who loved him when he was in favour, should not love him when he was in disgrace, his sorrows were an insufferable torment: and as an augmentation to his misery, he durst not acquaint Philimena with it, or put her fideility to the best: so that fearing all things, and hoping in nothing, he spent the rest of the day in extreme restlessness, and all the night following without a wink of sleep. But that he might not be miserable by himself, there chanced a business which did not a little perplex Basilides: For Sir be pleased to know that in order to his designs upon the Queen, his care was to get himself creatures in her house, both amongst the officers and amongst the women: and there was one amongst the rest, whom he had entirely gotten: This Person then watching upon all opportunities to observe the Queen, especially when she seemed most melancholy, told him all that she at any time observed: But at the last, she observed so closely, that she one day heard all that Stelisea said unto the Queen concerning Myrinthus, and all that the Queen said unto her: and she heard enough to collect, that the reason why the Queen would not let Myrinthus marry Philimena was because she did not hate him herself. At the first she resolved not to make it known unto Basilides, knowing that it would not please him: but upon second considerations, she changed her resolution, and the next morning, told him word for word all that she heard. The surprise of Basilides was so great that if he had only the testimony of this woman, he had not given credit unto her words: But upon a survey of a hundred of the Queen's actions: her melancholy since Myrinthus was in love with Philimena: and such like: also considering, that though she denied the earnest request of Myrinthus, yet he continued still in her favour: this put him out of all doubt: and by consequence, made him most excessively sad. How's this (said he unto himself as he afterward, told me) does Cl●obuline love Myrinthus, who loves not her? And does she not love Basilides who loves her above his life? Why then it is Myrinthus who is the Remora in the Queen's heart which hinders me from the conquest of it: Then must I become his enemy in lieu of Protector: And though he cannot be my Rival; yet since he is the obstacle unto my happiness, I must consider him so: I must by all means ruin all his pretensions, and oppose all his designs: But what's this I say (said he and reprehended himself) my sorrows have distracted my Reason: And I do not understand my own interest: since my odd destiny is, to endeavour the making that man happy whom the Queen preffers before me into her heart: It concerns me more than it doth Myrinthus, that he marry Philimena: and I must labour for his quietness who is the cause of all my restlessness, and endeavour his felicity lest he prevent mine.  
Basilide● having well considerered upon the matter, resolved in order to the better discovery of the Queen's thoughts, to speak unto her himself concerning the marriage of Myrinthus with his sister: designing that though she refused him, yet to cause that Philimena should move Myrinthus to marry her without the Queen's consent, hoping that this would sufficiently incense her, to banish him her Court, not being ignorant that she was ever very jelouse of her authority. Basilides then in pursuance of this resolve, went the next day unto the Queen. But in his way thither, he understood that Myrinthus, after a whole night without sleep, was very ill in the morning so that taking this occasion to speak of him unto the Queen; he no soonner came into her presence but looking attentively upon her, he told her this news. Since the Queen did not think it possible, he should know the thoughts of her soul, she took no heed of restraining herself: so that not being able to hold in the first conceptions of her heart, she could not hear of Myrinthus being sick without some visible disorder in her face enquiring very carefully of what nature his disease, was and how he came to know it. As for his disease Madam (answered he) I cannot directly tell you what it is: But if your Majesty will please to command me, I shall teach him the art how to cure himself, by telling him the cause: me thinks (answered the Queen, who knew very well what Basilides would say) It is a very hard matter to know the cause, when you do not know the disease: yet I do know it Madam, answered he: for I am most confident that if your Majesty would permit Merinthus to marry Philimena, he would quickly recover his health, since certainly the disease of his mind causeth the disease of his body: and if you would cure the last, you must begin with the 〈…〉st: since those who govern Kingdoms (replied the Queen with a tart kind of Rallary) use not to consult with Physicians nor fit their Policies unto their temper, this which you tell me shall not alter my Resolution of not giving my consent unto a marriage which for divers reasons I cannot approve of. You may well think Madam, replied Basilides, that I shall not think Myrinthus unworthy of Philimena, since your Majesty thinks him worthy of her esteem. The Queen hearing Basilides speak thus, did blush, not that she thought he spoke so as knowing the thoughts of her soul, but it was because whosoever hath any secret thought, hath also an imagination so quick, and a heart so sensible, that the least thing gales them; and she was no less perplexed than Basilides, for to authorise her denial of Myrinthus she must in some sort, not speak advantageously of the man whom of all the world she most esteemed: And Basilides also to persuade her consent unto this Marriage, used a thousand expressions of esteem of Myrinthus, whom he heartily wished she did not esteem.  
Thus seeing themselves both put to the necessity of betraying their thoughts, they were both of them much perplexed; yet both of them resolved in their hearts to betray them as little as they could. The Queen then answered Basilides, That it was very true, Myrinthus was owner of a thousand good qualities which had got him much unto her esteem and repute; but since he was not a Corinthean originally, she thought this reason, with many other which she could give him, would not permit her to consent unto his Marriage with Philimena: I do believe Madam, replied Basilides, that your Majesty's concealed reasons are very prevalent, but as for that which you are pleased to honour me the participation, is not so undeniable as I conceive: The truth is, the Ancestors of Myrinthus have been so faithful, as they may very well pass for natural Subjects unto your Majesty: I know very well that there is much inequality between my Sister and Myrinthus, and if your Majesty had not by your Noble favours raised him above his Quality, his design had been rash: But Madam, though this inequality may be a considerable obstacle to hinder a Marriage; yet the high esteem which your Majesty honours him withal, and the violent affection which he bears unto Philimena, moves me to wish it no less than himself. For Madam, I am most confident, that if Myrinthus were a King, and my Sister a very Slave, yet he would make her a Queen: Therefore I most zealously beseech your Majesty to satisfy his love, and give me leave to sacrifice a Sister for the preservation of a man whom you are pleased to honour with your esteem. To retaliate so generous a thought, (replied the Queen, with a soul so full of sadness as she had much ado to hide it) I ought to sacrifice Myrinthus for your sake, and not suffer you to sacrifice Philimena for his; and therefore for your own sake, the more you importune me for Myrinthus, the more resolute am I to deny you.  
After this, Cleobuline upon a sudden took her leave of Basilides, who was in a hundred minds to put off all due respects, and to let her understand he knew the thoughts of her soul. But the very same passion which spurred him unto this boldness, letting him also see, that if he affronted the Queen, he might chance lose her for ever, he kerbed himself, and went with her without a word, which might make her positively think he knew she loved Myrinthus; and though he harped much upon her esteem of him, yet he thought that she would not expound it love, and indeed she did not at that time; but her weariness of Basilides company had another cause, for truly she could not endure without infinite grief to hear him aggravate the violent affection of Myrinthus to Philimena; nor without a strange confusion hear of the great inequality of his quality and his Sisters: But that which stung her most was, to see Basilides desiring this marriage, and she was the only one who did not wish it; and to consider how she incurred the hatred of Myrinthus, whom in spite of all her power she loved with extreme tenderness, so that the very thought of being hated did excessivelie grieve her, but yet she had a more sensible cause of it afterwards; for Myrinthus being recovered, and having some important business of State with the Queen, he went unto her, and she found him so altered since she saw him last, as thinking his alteration rather an effect of his souls sorrow, than any sickness, she was fretted to the very heart; yet that was not the only cause which put Myrinthus into such a Meager complexion, since certainly his ambition did also much perplex him: For Sir, before I relate their discourse, I must tell you, that Myrinthus being forced to go unto the Queen, with whom he had not been, since Stesilea acquainted him with her affection unto him, his heart was full of inexpressible apprehensions: his greatest disquiet was his fears least the Queen should know that Stesilia had acquainted him with her amorous thoughts of him: Alas (said he in himself) if so, how dare I look upon this Princess, or how can she look upon me? But afterwards, upon his consideration of the Queen's great virtue, he believed the thing to be as Stesilea had told him, so that his soul enjoyed a little more serenity. But when he came unto the Palace Gates, and saw the Guards there, and likewise saw there the great concourse of people going and coming in and out, which deliniates the grandeur of Kings; when he saw I, say, abundance of all sorts of men in the Halls, Presence Chamber, Privy Chamber, and every where else in the Court, waiting all only for a very sight of the Queen. When he saw all the magnificent furniture wherewith the Chambers were adorned, his imagination was so swelled with a thousand several Ideas of grandeur and magnificence, as he began to be sensible of the sweetness in being loved by her, unto whom these Guards, this Palace, all these stately magnificences belonged, and unto whom all those men with bended knees did pay their homage; insomuch as his ambition beginning to revive in his heart, there was a new combat between this proud passion and his love of Philimena, which was not decided, when word was brought that Cleobuline asked for him. Myrinthus no sooner received this Summons, but he ordered himself for entrance into the Queen's Closet, where then she was; but in the way, how full of fancy was his mind? he had a mind to exclude Philimena out of his heart and immediately after he reassumed the image of his dearest Philimena into his fancy, to the end he might better guard her against the Queen; and indeed, not well knowing whether he was faithful or perfidious, he went unto the place where Cleobuline was; but he entered with such a melancholy countenance, and so much disorder in his eyes, that the Queen thinking the alteration proceeded more from his sorrows that she denied him Philimena, then from his sickness, she could not choose, but out of a secret spite, look with less sweetness upon Myrinthus than she was accustomed: So that Myrinthus beginning to fear that Stesilea had told the Queen all his and her discourse, he was so dismayed, as he did not answer her much to the purpose. The Queen surprised at the disorder in Myrinthus his mind, asked him from whence this confusion of thoughts and words proceeded, which she was not wont to observe in him? Is it, because I do not well understand them, or because you did not hear me? It is neither Madam, replied he, for your Majesty doth always both understand and speak very well, and I always hearken with a most attentive ear, in hopes you will command me some service: But it is— But it is (replied Cleobuline and cut him short) because you have left your mind where you have bestowed your heart: If I had power to have bestowed it (replied Myrinthus pitifully nonplussed) Philimena should not have had it, but I should have otherwise disposed of it; yet Madam, Philimena hath violently taken it from me whether I would or no: Since the Law of Nations, replied the Queen, permits one to repulse force by force, and that one may take ones own where e'er he finds it; take back from Philimena with the same violence, that heart which she took from you: But if you will take my advice, be sure you do not take hers in lieu of your own, for you will be a loser by the bargain: I wish to the Heaven's Madam (said he unto her) that I were able to do as I ought, in doing as your Majesty would have me; for I am so devoted unto your commands, that I had rather be an obedient subject, than a faithful Lover.  
Myrinthus pronounced these words with such a faint and hollow accent, as he surprised the Queen; for his tone did testify, that he had some mental reservation in his words; she no sooner had this conceit, but she changed colour; so that Myrinthus seeing her blush for anger, he grew pace with fear, and blushed presently after for shame. The alteration in the Queen's face caused the alteration in Myrinthus; and the new disorder which appeared in the mind of Myrinthus, did also disorder the Queen: So that the confusion of the one redoubling the shame of the other, they could not endure each others looks, but heartily desired a separation, and indeed they parted; for the Queen dispatching her business with Myrinthus in two words, she dismissed him by a sign with her hand, without one look upon him, and stayed by herself in an unconceivable turbulency of mind. Myrinthus did strive with himself, and would have said something, but she beckoned again with her hand to be gone, and go he did, with a heart swelled with two violent passions, which did most strongly tyrannize over it. But as the soul of Myrinthus, so the soul of Cleobuline was most cruelly tormented, for since she had a most penetrating wit, she perfectly discovered by the looks, by the words, and by the tone of Myrinthus, that he either knew, or guessed at the thoughts which she had of him, insomuch as extraordinary shame, and sorrows full of anger against herself, did make her an intolerable sufferer. Is it possible, said she, that my own words and my own eyes should betray me, since they have both of them been so long so faithful? For I know very well, that at that time ●hen Myrinthus asked my consent unto his Marriage with Philimena; he had then no suspicion of my passion. But what's this I say? (said she and reprehended herself) It cannot be either my words, or my eyes which have discovered the secret of my heart unto Myrinthus, because I never saw him since, and yet there is none but Stesilea in all the world which knows my thoughts: Stesilea who hath promised inviolable fidelity; Stesilea, I say, who knows that I fear nothing more, then that Myrinthus should know I love him. As the Queen was in this perplexity, Philista, who was newly come to Corinth, and had not been there a long while, and whom the Queen ever loved, she entered into her Chamber: So that this Princess who dearly loved her, made a Truce with her sorrows, and began to talk of several things with her; and passing from one discourse unto another, Philista who knew nothing of the Queen's Love to Myrinthus, nor of that intimate confidence between her and Stesilea, she being to tell the Queen what day some passage happened, she told her it happened the very same day when Stesilea came not unto her until night. Cleobuline not remembering at first that Stesilea was ever a whole day from her, did contradict Philista: But Philista to remember it by more circumstances, told her, that it was the very same day Myrinthus and Stesilea were a whole afternoon together, adding to prove her words, that Basilides came to them at the conclusion of their conference. The Queen hearing what Philista said, began to suspect the fidelity of Stesilea, since she never spoke a word to her of Myrinthus his visit, her suspicions a little after did increase; for Stesilea coming in, Philista to make her own words good, asked her whether it was not true that Myrinthus came such a day to see her, and whether Basilid●s came not also.  
This question so surprised Stesilea, since she had kept the visit of Myrinthus secret from the Queen, that she did so blush in confessing it, as that the Queen did undoubtedly conclude her culpable, and therefore was excessively sad: Yet since it concerned her to know precisely what Myrinthus knew, she resolved to set the best side of her sorrows and anger outward, and to make Stesilea confess the truth. But the thing which most grated upon her apprehension was, that since she thought Myrinthus knew her thoughts, so likewise did Basilides, grounding her thoughts of it upon the great familiarity which had been of late between them: So that as passionate persons always use, she was full of divers imaginations, and cohcluded for certain, that Stesilea had discovered her secret unto Myrinthus, and he unto Basilides: You may judge Sir, whether a Princess who pretended unto glory so much as Cleobuline did, could have any such thoughts as these, without extreme sorrow; and indeed hers was of so deep a strain, that she could not rest till she had talked with Stesilea, and falling insensibly into discourse with Myrinthus, she asked her without any show of anger, how it came to pass she never acquainted her with the visit Myrinthus made her? Stesilea having no better a reason, told her, that since she observed how she never heard Myrinthus named without sorrow, she accorded the talking of him as much as she could, unless it were herself who first begun to talk of him: But Stesilea (said the Queen, and looked earnestly upon her) I talked the last night with you of all the passages which chanced that same afternoon. Stesilea seeing herself put to it, did think to mend the matter with another lie: Since I know Madam, said she unto her, that your Majesty desires nothing more zealously then to conquer the passions of your Soul, I would never acquaint you with the discourse I had with Myrinthus, lest it should increase rather than diminish them: For truly Madam, he came to see me only to protest how sorry he was for incurring your displeasure by thinking upon Philimena: Did he not ask you (said the Queen) what my reason was for opposing his Marriage? Yes Madam, answered Stesilea and blushed, but I assured him that I could not tell it: Fie Stesilea, (cried out the Queen in a rapture of anger and grief) either you have betrayed me, or else your own words have betrayed you, for most certainly Myrinthus knows more than he should do: However (said she, lest Stesilea should not tell the truth) if you will ingenuously tell me all that Myrinthus said unto you, and all that you answered him, I will pardon your fault: But Stesilea, be sure you tell me all, and hide not a syllable from me. Stesilea seeing herself touched the quick, did a while deny all, but at last the Queen speaking to her with such authority, and promising a pardon if she told her all passages, she resolved to confess part of the truth: She told her then, and truly how Myrinthus did most highly commend her, that afterwards he was very importunate to know her reason why she obstructed his Marriage, and how before she was aware, only told him, that her reason was much conducing unto his glory; how he put all the advantageous interpretation that could be possible upon those words; and how after all, Myrinthus did express abundance of tenderness towards her: Since Stesilea thought to appease the Queen, by telling such things, she concealed no obliging expression which Myrinthus used, and hinted not a word of what he said in advantage of Philimena; yet she durst not tell her how Myrinthus offered to quit her, lest the actions of that lover should belie her words: But she only told the Queen, that it was not impossible but he might be brought to quit her. Yet this dissembling Artifice of Stesilea did not hit; for after the Queen had got out of Stesilea all that she could, she was so transported with anger, that though she was resolved to make no noise of it, because she saw her weakness, yet she could not choose but express all that a most violent passion could invent, Fie●fie, (said she unto her with a torrent of tears) have I trusted you in a business upon which the whole glory of my life depended, and must you go and tattle it unto the man, whom of all men living I most feared that he should know it? Your imprudence and indiscretion hath deprived me of all consolation, and brought me into such a condition, as to see Myrinthus scorn me: Doubtless he believed that all you said unto him proceeded from my orders; for what likelihood is there he should think any other? Could he imagine, that you having so much wit and spirit, should otherwise be so weak weak and imprudent? Fie, fie, Stesilea unto what a cruel adventure have you exposed me? Must Myrinthus know I love him, and not know I would not have him know it? and must Myrinthus know this from Stesilea? For my part, I believe you thought I told you that I loved Myrinthus, on purpose you should let him know it, and that I did forbid it, only that you might the sooner tell him, but if you had any such thoughts you were extremely deceived, and have been injurious as well as perfidious. Stesilea would then have had some frivolous excuses to the Queen, but the Queen would not hearken to them: Be silent Stesilea (said she unto her) be silent, all your enchanting reasons cannot justify you; and since your crime hath been in talking too much, it must be silence rather than weak excuses that must appease my anger. In the mean while order it so, as Myrinthus may not either by his looks, or by his actions, or by the least syllable, give me any cause to think that he remembers what you said unto him; for if I find he do, I profess I will not only banish him my Court, but my Kingdom, though perhaps I cannot my heart: Carry the business so, that Myrinthus may never know how I understand he knows the thoughts of my soul, for if ever I perceive he do, I shall banish you as well as him. But why should I impose such orders of silence and secrecy upon one who is tattleing all she knows, and is not Mistress of her own tongue? Stesilea then kneeling down at the Queen's feet, with eyes full of tears, seemed so repentant, that this Princess whose soul was infinitely glorious, thinking it a shame to pardon such a crime so soon, and fearing lest her repentant tears should mollify her, did command her to retire, and not to see her any more, until she sent for her; commanding her again to negotiate the matter so, as Myrinthus should never know she knew what Stesilea told him. After she was gone, this Queen was in a most unspeakable perplexity, and that which did most exasperate the matter was, that as every one is apt to believe what they desire, so she believed it to be within the compass of possibility to wain Myrinthus from Philimena, if she infused some ingredients of ambition into her love; and on the contrary, she perceived by the extreme disorder of Myrinthus his Soul, that if she should offer him a Crown, yet he would never offer her his heart, nor quit Philimena. So that this consideration, and her perceiving a possibility of keeping Myrinthus from the enjoyment of Philimena, by making him a King, did exceedingly aggravate her sorrows: Since it is allowed the people, (would she say sometimes when Love had the predominancy of her heart) to choose a King when they have not one, why is it not allowable in a Queen to choose one, especially when her choice is good? Is it just, that because I am born upon a Throne, therefore I should be deprived of that liberty which all my Subjects have? and that I should be more a Slave then any of my Slaves, in a thing upon which the felicity of my life depends? But what's this I say? (said she and reprehended herself) methinks I speak as if I could be happy without glory: Fie, fie Cleobuline, wander not so far from the right way of reason; it is not thy part to examine the use of it, but to follow it: 'Tis true, Myrinthus is worthy of a Crown by his merit, but since he is not so by his Birth, 'tis but fit thou be'st st●l his Sovereign, and that he be for ever thy Subject; but alas, this Subject knows thou lovest him more than becomes thee; at this very hour perhaps he is at the feet of Philimena, and reporting thy weakness unto her, and protesting, that though thou shouldst offer him thy heart and thy Crown, yet he would willingly refuse them both for the least of her favours. On the other side, if Basilides knew, as I believe he does, what thoughts thy soul harbours of Myrinthus, doubtless he would not value thy affection at a straw, but only because he would be King; and as for Philimena, I am confident she would look upon thee with scorn, and triumph in reigning over the heart of him who reigns in thine: Stesilea also, she would hold unworthy thoughts of thee; for since she revealed the secret unto Myrinthus, doubtless she thought thou didst desire to contract a particular friendship with him, and may be she imagined, that this friendship had some virtuous design in it: So Cleobuline, see what dangerous consequences thy fond passion hath brought thee unto, examine thy heart well, trust not too much unto thy own virtue and strength, reduce thyself Cleobuline into such a condition, as that thou canst not commit a fault if thou wouldst; find out some ingenuous expedient which may justify thyself in the opinion of Myrinthus, as well as of Basilides, Philimena, and Stesilea, call all thy virtues and strengths to thy assistance, remember the glory thou hast got; and do all thou canst to preserve it, and recover thy esteem with Myrinthus, which perhaps thou hast lost: But alas (said she after a serious consideration) I can find no way in the world to effect these things but one: But oh heavens, how difficult it is? and how hard to be resolved upon?  
As she was in these thoughts, Philista who was to render an account unto the Queen, of some business wherein she was employed, came unto her, but since she observed her very reserved and sad, after the dispatch of her business, she offered to go out again: But the Queen being fuller of sorrows than any one heart was able to contain, did call her back again, and imagining that since Stesilea had revealed her secret unto Myrinthus, she might also impart it unto Philista, who was always very kind with her, she thought it best to tell her herself, and to bid her keep Stesilea hereafter from such faults; so that consulting more with her choler then her reason, she began to complain of Stesilea unto her: But since she could not accuse Stesilea, unless she accused herself also, she acquainted Philista with her own unhappy condition. Do not think (said she unto her) that as much as I esteem you, I would ever make any new confident of my weakness, unless I were fully resolved either to surmount it, or else to die: Yes Philista, I believe I have found out a way to justify myself in the thoughts of Myrinthus, Philimena, Basilides, Stesilea, and yourself: And I think I have hit upon it so happily; that I shall arrive at that point which I have so long desired, which is, to see Myrinthus out of love with Philimena: I perceive you can hardly conceive what this invention should be: But to make a discovery of it unto you, know Philista, that to keep myself from ever committing any crime, I will consent unto that marriage which I have so obstinately hindered. How Madam, replied Philista, will you allow Myrinthus to marry Philimena? Yes Philista, replied she, I will, and I will principally, to the end I may never think of marrying Myrinthus, nor show him any signs of love, and to the end also he may think, that whatsoever Stesilea told him of me is not stronger than my virtue; and also to persuade Basilides, that all which perhaps is told him is not true. Thus far Madam, replied Philista, I do agree unto what you have said, and I must infinitely commend your generous design; but I must confess, I cannot see how you can ever hope to see Myrinthus out of love with Philimena: Yes I do hope it, replied she, especially by his marriage; for since the love of Myrinthus to Philimena is augmented by my obstacles, I am confidently persuaded, that it will cool again when it finds no opposition; the full fruition of Philimena will glut him, and more quash his affection, than all my authority is able to do: I beseech you Philista, (said this Princess in the rapture of her passion) do not tell me that Philocles, though now your Husband, is still in love with you, since there is no love that is eternal: And if I did not hope to find some little satisfaction in seeing the affection of Myrinthus to Philimena to fade by marriage, perhaps I should not have power to accomplish that design, whereupon the safety of my glory doth depend; therefore I conjure you to concur with me in my hopes, to the end I may more courageously put my resolutions into execution: Yet do not think, pursued she, that I desire Myrinthus should be out of love after he hath married Philimena, nor in any thought he should answer my affection unto him; no Philista, that's not my aim, and doubtless I have not power to say, I wish that Myrinthus should not love me: But I can assure you, that none of my actions shall ever let him know I love him, though I am confident I shall love him as long as I breath; yet it would be much satisfaction unto me, to see Myrinthus out of love when I have executeed my design. But oh heavens (added she, and gave Philista no time to answer her) am I able to do as I would? and am I well assured that I desire it? When I consult with my reason, I find myself inclined unto it, though it should cost me my life; but when I consult with my heart, I am ready to alter my mind, this Rebel heart resists me, and if I did not call glory to my aid, I should relapse into my first fond weakness: But as soon as I consider it as a mean to keep me from any possibility of committing a fault which my passion prompts me unto a thousand times in a day, and which all the world would upbraid me with, as a mean, I say, to make Myrinthus esteem me, and perhaps to quench those violent flames of affection which he bears unto Philimena; Honour and Love both joining together do so fortify my mind, that I am in hopes of an absolute victory over myself, though I am out of all hopes of not loving Myrinthus, and though I must still love him without any fear that this passion will draw me unto any baseness. After this, Philista, who wished in her heart that the Queen would marry Basilides, told her, that the best way of security against that passion, was to marry him; and hinted unto her all the politic reasons of State which might induce her unto it. Ah Philista (said the Queen unto her) your advice goes a little too far, and further than I am able to follow: 'Tis well, If I can resolve to render Philimena happy by permitting her to marry a man whom I love more than she doth, without moving me to marry one whom I do not love, nor ever shall: For the truth is Philista, if it were possible, I should cease loving Myrinthus, (as I think it is not) I should certainly never love any else: Therefore Philista be contented that I do what I think sitting for my honour and justification, and do not wish me to groan under any new torment. After this, the Queen dismissed Philista, and would not be seen all the rest of the day; but as the day was tormentive to her, so the night much more, never did amorous heart endure more torture than hers, she altered her resolution a hundred times, and as oft resolved to put it in execution; sometimes her passion would be so high, that she was persuaded she did Myrinthus the greatest injustice in the world, if she did not put the Crown upon his head, since it was in her power to make him King, she imagined the injury as great, as if he had been legitimate King, and she had wringed the Sceptre out of his hand; and there was so fierce a combat in her soul betwixt honour and love, that the Sun brought day into her Chamber before it was ended; She rise, before she was resolved what to do, and as soon as she cast her eyes upon a great glass, by which she passed in her way to her Closet, and spied in her face the alteration which Love and an ill night had brought upon her, she blushed for shame, that she should be no more a Mistress of herself: Would not any say (said she to herself) who saw this sorrow in my eyes, that I am told of some loss of a great battle, which either reflected upon my State, or the tranquillity of my people? and yet in lieu of lamenting for the losses of my people, I am lamenting my own loss; and all this sorrow which sits so sadly in my eyes, hath so poor and weak a cause, and so unworthy of my virtue, as I wonder how I can endure myself; rouse up thyself Cleobuline courageously, and conquer thyself. The Queen finding more power in her heart than she imagined, would not let slip so good an interval; and lest she should relapse once more into a repentance, she sent immediately to command Basilides and Myrinthus to come both together unto her; but she had no sooner given this order, than a fresh tumult rebelled in her mind, which put her soul into a new disorder, yet it was presently laid, for she was so exceedingly pleaseed, that she was able to force her mouth unto words so opposite unto her hearts desire, as her very joys of vanquishing, made her able to execute her design with a kind of tranquillity: So that her desire of glory, and desire of justifying herself in the thoughts of Myrinthus and Basilides, sortifying her soul, she prepared herself in good earnest for executeing her design: Then arming herself with a resolute mind, she shut up all her sorrows in her heart, and so well composed her countenance, as she seemed only a little serious, and not 〈◊〉 or troubled. In the mean time Basilides and Myrinthus being surprised at this sudden message, they could not devise what the Queen should have with them, yet they did not impart their thoughts unto each other, for Myrinthus out of his respect and discretion would not tell Basilides what he knew of the Queen's Love; and Basilides out of his jealousy would not tell Myrinthus what he thought he knew not, and which he would never have him know, yet both of them imagined that the Queens sending for them was absolutely to forbid the banes of Philimena's Marriage: So that though ambition was high in the heart of Myrinthus, yet his Love of Philimena having got the predominancy, he went to the Queen with a soul full of melancholy thoughts: On the other 〈…〉 de Basilides thinking that the Queen opposed the Marriage of Myrinthus, only because she herself loved him, and fearing also that she would break it only, perhaps with a design to make him King, he was so far from looking upon Myrinthus as a Husband unto his Sister, as he hated him as a Rival, though he knew him to be in love with Philimena, and not with Cleobuline.  
These two Lovers then being both of them full of restless imaginations, came both of them to Court together. They were no sooner entered, than the Queen hearing of their coming, caused them to enter into her Closet; She had no sooner given this order, but she had some suggestions in her heart to talk of some other business, and to defer the execution of her design unto some other time. But as soon as she saw Myrinthus, and looked upon him as a man who knew her weakness, and who perhaps blamed her for it, her very desire to readmit herself into his esteem, as well as to justify herself in the opinion of Basilides, did rouse up a greater strength in her resolution than she imagined; and Philista, whom the Queen sent for to be present at this action, told me, she admired that a person so passionate as Cleobuline was, could so well overcome herself: She therefore no sooner saw Basilides and Myrinthus enter into her Closet, then causing them to come to her, she began to speak unto them both in a most surprising manner: Since I know (said she unto them) that the business which I am to speak of does concern you both, I desired to speak unto you both together. Know then (said she, and addressed her speech unto Basilides) that as I have hitherto hindered the marriage of Philimena and Myrinthus, out of some prevalent reasons which I never told you; so now, those reasons being changed, I have also changed my opinion, insomuch as since I do now like of that which I disliked then, I do not only consent unto this marriage, but I desire that it may be consummated, as speedily as preparations for such a solemnity will permit. Basilides and Myrinthus, both were so surprised at the Queen's words, as they never thought of any answer! but the wonder was, to see the Brother of a Lover to thank the Queen sooner than the Lover himself: For though Myrinthus was unexpressively in love with Philimena, and was extremely joyed to hear that he should ere long enjoy her, yet knowing what thoughts the Queen had of him, he durst not be too forwards in expressions of gratitude, for the favour which she did him, for fear of incensing her. Also his ambition struggling a little in his heart, he could not so suddenly quit a Queen for Philimena, without some little regret of mind; So that not knowing upon a sudden what to do or say, he let Basilides speak first, who apprehending that nothing could be more advantageous unto his design upon the Queen then this, he was transported with such a joy, as permitted him the full freedom of his spirits, and he returned his thanks in very crafty phrases: I assure you Madam, said he unto her, your Majesty hath not only done an Act of Justice in consenting unto what Myrinthus so much desired, but an act of Clemency also, in preserving that life which the tyranny of his passion would have ruined. Myrinthus hearing Basilides speak in this manner, though he had a good mind to contradict him, yet he durst not; nor durst he out of his respect unto the Queen aggravate a passion which he knew would but displease her; therefore putting a handsome gloss upon his resentment, he began to speak: Since I cannot evidence my gratitude unto the Queen, (said he unto her) without giving her some cause to think that I murmured against her, when she denied me that, which now she is pleased to grant, I had rather publish her goodness unto all the world, then to thank her myself: Therefore Madam, I beseech your Majesty to dispense with those thanks which I owe you, and in exchange give me leave to applaud you, in speaking of those many honours which I have received from you; and to publish unto all the world, that though I die a thousand deaths in your Majesty's service, yet the vast debt of my gratitude is not discharged: In saying you will give me no thanks, replied the Queen and blushed, you have given me too many. In the mean time, I do not only dispense with you for your thanks, but also for all those high applauds you give me; and I hold you discharged of all you owe me, provided you will be fully persuaded, that both in denying and giving you Philimena, I always had strong reasons for those contrary acts, though they were unknown unto you; and as I place Justice in the first rank of all Kingly virtues, so I do abhor that my Subjects should ever upbraid me with any deficiency in that virtue: If you can be accused of any injustice Madadam (replied Myrinthus most respectfully) it is in conferring more favours upon me then I can merit: But since goodness is a virtue as well as Justice, I shall hope that without any blame to your Majesty for the favours you have done me, that may be attributed unto your goodness, which cannot be unto your Justice: However it be (said she to finish the discourse) since the greatest joys are doubled, when they are made public, we will not hinder you Myrinthus from publishing yours; go therefore and tell— This Princess would have said Philimena; but she abruptly stopped, and the disorder of her spirits was so great, that in lieu of saying Philimena according to her first intention, she said, unto all the Court, and said it with a blush; So that fearing lest her constancy should stagger, she dismissed Basilides and Myrinthus, who both of them retired very well satisfied; yet Myrinthus had some secret pangs of sorrow in his heart, for as he went out of the Queen's Closet, and turned his head back, and saw her lifting up her eyes unto heaven with a sigh, so that not doubting but that he was the cause of those sorrows in the most illustrious Queen in the world, his joys were so dejected until the fair eyes of Philimena did revive them, as he could hardly speak unto Basilides; yet he was no sooner in the presence of that fair one, but Love began to fill his heart with extreme joy. Yet whilst he was tasting, all those dilicious sweets which he had a long time most earnestly wished for, and which a full satisfied hope could afford, the Queen did find some tranquillity in the Victory which she had obtained over herself, and was sometimes joyed at it: Well thou imperious passion, (did she say before Philista) which art accustomed to conquer the strongest reasons, thou hast now been conquered by mine: Thou Tyrant, I say, who hast caused the most illustristrious persons to run headlong into a thousand crimes and inconveniences, and does often put the whole Universe into a disorder; yet as proud as thou art of thy Triumphs, one simple desire of glory hath forced thee out of my heart, and made myself a Sovereign Mistress of it: I do profess Madam (said Philista to her) I do extremely admire at your victory over yourself; I could never think that it were possible to banish a most violent and tyrannical passion out of one soul in so short a time: Ah my dear Philista, replied the Queen and sighed) I have conquered this cruel passion I confess, but in lieu of banishing out of my heart so fierce an Enemy, my reason hath only enchained him there, and I am in continual fear lest he should break those chains which holds him captive: I find him doing what he can to get at liberty; but I find also, that he cannot break them unless my reason hetray me: I pray Philista strengthen it by your commendations, and tell me that I have done the most glorious act in the world; persuade me if you can, that it was more grandeur of courage to do as I have done, than it was weakness in me to be so unvanquished as I was: It is an easy matter for me Madam, replied Philista, to commend an act so Heroic, whereof so few are capable; the Sacrifice you have offered unto glory is so great, that as by all the rest of your actions you merit Statues, so by this you merit Temples and Altars, since you have done a thing which the Gods themselves have not always done: Fie Philista, replied the Queen, do not commend me so excessively, for if I should chance to relapse into my first folly, and repent of what I have done, both you and I should be abominably ashamed of all these applauds which you have given me; therefore, though I did entreat you to commend me, yet I pray keep some measure in your commendations; for the very truth is Philista, that I did never in my life love Myrinthus more than now I do, nor hate Philimena more, yet I made them both happy, because honour required it, and my Quality would not suffer me to commit crimes, since I must do nothing but what is great and Noble, and Sovereignly just. Moreover Philista, if you did but know my joys, to see Myrinthus express no gladness when I gave him leave to marry Philimena, you would wonder: But wretch that I am, (said she and blushed) I rejoice at that, which doubtless I ought to grieve at, and be ashamed; for it is to be thought, that Myrinthus did only hide his thoughts because he knew mine: Stifle therefore this ill-grounded joy, and rejoice Cleobuline at nothing but the Victory which thou hast got over thyself. In short Sir, the Queen did so encourage herself in the design which she had taken, that it was as generously executed, as it was resolved, yet not without a thousand several perplexities; for since all the Court thought they pleased her in interesting themselves in the joys of Myrinthus, and in commending the marriage which she had made, they spoke of nothing else. Some spoke loud in commendations of Myrinthus, others of Philimena, all of nothing else. In the mean time, since she would not trust too much unto herself, she hasted on the marriage, as if upon the accomplishment thereof depended all her felicity: And the better to colour her affection to Myrinthus, she showed abundance of kindness to Philimena, and sent her 〈◊〉 rich Presents, though she gave her not one sweet word which had not a bitter relish in her own heart: She herself would also be at the expenses of the marriage, which was solemnised with extraordinary pomp: She dressed herself, as if it were the day of her Coronation; and as long as the Feast lasted, she was a most absolute Mistress of her own countenance, and of all her actions, though Heavehs knows not without inconceiveable sorrow at heart, in the midst of this public rejoicing. The truth is, she carried it so, that Myrinthus thought she had changed her thoughts of him, that Basilides thought himself wrongly informed, and that Philista herself thought Cleobuline less engaged to Myrinthus than she was, yet she was not long in that thought; for the day after the solemnity, the Queen caused all the Grandees of State to assemble, as if she intended some notable alteration in Government; and without communicating her design unto any whosoever, she appeared in the Noble Assembly with so much Majesty, as she inspired reverence into the hearts of all beholders. Basilides, according to his Quality, had the first place, and Myrinthus, by reasen of his offices, the next. This Assembly was in a great Hall supported with Marble Pillars, whose Basis was of Corinthean Copper, so famous over all the world: Between these Pillars and Pilasters was hung several Ensigns gotten in the Wars by the late King of Corinth: And in the midst of this Hall was erected a stately Throne of three degrees; upon the first was the Queen, upon the second Basilides, and upon the third Myrinthus. All the rest of the Assembly being round about this Princess, who after she had by her looks imposed silence upon all the company, she made such a most admirably eloquent Oration, as she charmed all the auditory; but her resolution did astonish them; for after she had prepared them to hear her pleasure, she declared, That it was her resolute determination never to marry; adding, that it was her will Basilides should be looked upon, as him who was to succeed her in the Throne, to the end his authority should be more firm, and that he should raise no Factions in the State: Adding after all this a thousand admirable Arguments to authorise her resolution: You may judge Sir, how this Oration surprised the Assembly, especially Basilides and Myrinthus.  
As it is the custom when the Queen hath ended her Speech, for every one to give their opinions in order, so Basilides spoke first; and though the Queen's Declaration was much in his advantage, and confirmed him in those rights whichh nature gave him, yet his love prompted him to contradict the opinion of the Queen, and one could not speak more eloquently, nor more reverently than he did, to persuade her that she would be pleased to change her mind. And though the place would not permit him to add his passion unto many other reasons, which might induce her to marry, yet he did hint upon that point very delicately, declaring unto her, that he would never have any right unto a Crown which she wore by so sad a way, as that which she propounded, and spoke as elegantly, as if he had been prepared for it. But when it came to the course of Myrinthus to speak, and when he concurred in the opinion of Basilides, the Queen blushed; and at night she told Philista, that her constancy began to waver, when she saw him for whose sake she resolved never to marry, to advise her to it. The discourse of Myrinthus was not long, for since he knew the Queen's thoughts, he was more limited in his Spirit; yet he spoke very well, and mixed so many applauds with his contradictions, that it may be said he choked all his own reasons, and confirmed her in her design. Afterwards, every one who spoke, beseeched her to change her mind; but after they had all spoken what they would, she repeated all their reasons in a short method, and closed up the Assembly with a discourse more prevalent than the former, and made it appear that her resolution was unalterable: So that according to custom, the Declaration of it was published unto the People, and all circumstances were performed to make it more Authentic. To tell you Sir, how great was the grief of Basilides, and astonishment of Myrinthus, is a thing not easy. Basilides knew not what to think of her design, whether it proceeded out of love to Myrinthus, or aversion unto himself; but as for Myrinthus, he durst not think himself to be the cause of this her resolution. nor knew he unto what to attribute it. In the mean time, this Declaration made a mighty noise in Corinth, and never did a secret cause produce greater events; yet the general opinion was, that the Queen was jealous of her Authority, and would not divide it with any by marriage: Some said, it was her love to the Liberal Sciences, which inspired her with an aversion unto Marriage; but there was not one did vote it to be for the love of Myrinthus. Philista herself not being able to comprehend it, took so much liberty as to ask the Queen: I beseech you Madam (said she unto her) what ought I to think of your Majesty's design? Is it policy which suggested it unto you? No no, Philista (said she unto her and sighed) This resolution which seems to be grounded upon reasons of State, is grounded only upon reasons of Love: For indeed my dear Philista, by giving Philimena unto Myrinthus, I shall drive Myrinthus out of my heart, and by consequence make it incapable of entertaining any other affection, or especially the love of Basilides: And thus, that I might at least in appearance, though not in reality, enjoy my liberty, I have resolved never to marry; and to keep Basilides from any murmur, I have settled my Crown upon him: Madam, replied Philista, were Basilides only ambitious, this might peradventure keep him from any discontents, but since he is in love, methinks it should grieve him: Since I am full of fantastical and extraordinary thoughts, replied the Queen, I have one for Basilides, which I confess is very unjust: For truly Philista, though I am sure I can never love him, and though his affection is extremely troublesome unto me, yet sometimes I wish that he would love me ever; love me so far, as never to marry as long as he lived, that so the Crown which now I wear may fall upon Myrinthus. This is the only innocent way I know to make him a King, which shall be if this fantastical reason do hit, not but that my imagination is shrewdly wounded, when it phancieth my Crown upon Philimena's Head: But for all that, the pleasing thought that perhaps the Sceptre may fall into the hands of Myrinthus, does transport me above all other considerations; and I cannot for my life but wish, that Basilides should extremely love me, that the Crown might fall upon the head of Myrinthus. In the mean time, to testify that this passion which yet reigns in my heart is as pure as fantastical, observe I conjure you, how I will live with him who is the cause of it: For after I have done that which becomes my glory, I must go a little further, and so fully persuade Myrinthus, that I am an absolute Mistress of my own thoughts, that he shall be forced to esteem me as much as I love him. And indeed Sir, though the Queen hath ever since done all that was in her power to advance the fortunes of Myrinthus, yet she never moved him unto any more familiarity with her, than he used to have before Stesilea acquainted him with the thoughts she had of him. But Sir, the greatest wonder of this adventure is, that Myrinthus, whose soul as I told you was naturally of an ambitious temper, did presently cool the heat of his affection to Philimena; for in a very short time after his marriage, he grew so melancholy and reserved, as it was evident, that she had not completed his happiness. But though one is naturally apt to share in the sorrows of that person whom one loves, yet the grief that appeared in the countenance of Myrinthus never troubled Cleobuline, for she quickly knew that Myrinthus did not love Philimena, and that he was her Husband, but not her Lover; her satisfaction rested not here: For be pleased to know Sir, that after ambition had quenched his flames of Love to Philimena, that very same ambition kindled his love of Cleobuline, and so desperately, as he was ready to run out of his wits and reason: He did what he could to hide his passion, both from Basilides and Philimena; and since he knew by Stesilea how nice she was in such things, he durst not so much as give the Queen the least 〈◊〉 of it. The Queen for her part disguized her thoughts as much as she could, and endeavoured as much as ever she could that Myrinthus should not perceive that she loved him still, or knew that he loved her; and the more she knew Myrinthus was in love with her, the farther she was off. On the other side, Basilides perceiving the passion of Myrinthus, began to hate him; and Philimena also having some such jealousy, did wish so ill unto Cleobuline, as she laboured all she could with Basilides to raise a Rebellion in the State: And it is most sure, that Myrinthus had never any further satisfaction, then to imagine that the Queen did love him, because he knew she did so formerly; and the Queen for her part never looked further than to know that Myrinthus loved her, without giving him the least sign of her love. In the mean time Sir, since it is to be feared that the passion of Basilides in the conclusion to raise a Civil War, I most humbly beseech you Sir; to signify unto Timochares who hath a great influence upon the Queen, that you are persuaded her resolution of never marrying may produce dangerous consequences: As there are very ma●y obligations upon me to Basilides, doubtless I shall be ready to do him any good office; but I do protest unto you Sir, that it is more the Queen's interest, then that of Basilides which moves me unto this request; for it is most impossible that any should know her, and not devote himself more unto her service, then unto any other. For Sir, to and the history of this Princess as I begun it, I do most confidently assure you, that there 〈◊〉 ●ot ●ny lives on earth who can surpass her in virtue.  
〈◊〉 having ended his relation, Cyrus made an Elegy in praise of the Corinth 〈…〉 Queen, as high as possible; repeating all her virtues one after another, and insisting principally upon that power which she had over herself in hiding a most violent passion: For truly, said he, I know by this, that she must needs have a soul much greater than mine; since when I was at Sinope, and fell in love with Mandana, I was never able to vanquish that passion, though I had then stronger reasons to decline loving that Princess, than Cleobuline had not to declare her affection unto Myrinthus; Therefore Philocles, I must conclude the Queen of Corinth to be worthy of all those glorious Characters which you have given her: And I do assure you, that if I do tell Thimochares what you desire I should tell him, it shall be only for the love of you: Since certainly to follow the pure dictates of my own heart, I should never advise a Princess who is in love, to marry a Prince whom she loves not. However, since I do believe your intentions good, and since you know the people better than I do, and in what sphere the Spirits of the Court do move, I promise you to do as you desire. After this, it being very late, Philocles retired unto the Tent which was provided for him, and left Cyrus in thoughts of envy against Myrinthus, wishing with most passionate zeal, that Mandana did as tenderly love him, as the Queen of Corinth did Myrinthus.   
The end of the second Book.   

ARTAMENES, OR The Grand CYURS. The Seventh Part. Book. III.  
THe next morning, Thimochares coming to Cyrus, that Prince performed his promise unto Philocles; but yet he knew very well, that he gave such counsel as the Queen of Corinth would not follow: Yet to testify how much he esteemed that Princess, he doubled his civilities upon Thimochares, to whom he showed all the works. After which, and after a most Princely Banquet, Thimochares returned unto his Fleet, desiring to be on Land no longer, lest some unforeseen accident should fall out. He was no sooner gone, but one of those men whom Cyrus sent with Spitridates came into the room; he no sooner saw him, but being extremely impatient to know what news, he desired him to acquaint him; but first he gave him a Letter from Tigranes, in which he found these words.  
TIGRANES unto the illustrious CYRUS.  
SIR,  
THe Prince Spitridates being wounded in his right hand, it must be mine that must let you know, how he is so unfortunate, as that he cannot accept of those generous offers which you made him: For after he had met with the Ravisher of the Princess Araminta, whom I cannot call Brother; and after he had fought with him whilst I was another way in quest of that Princess, be escaped his revenge, after he had slightly wounded him in the right hand, and embarked at a Galatian Port, whither we followed him, and where we embarked also, though we know not directly which way he hath taken. After this Sir, I have no more to say, but to tell you, that the acknowledgements of the Prince Spitridates to you, are as great as his sorrows, and that my anger against Phraartes doth equal them both, though it doth not exceed my zeal unto your glory.  
TIGRANES.  
After the reading of this Letter, Cyrus enquired very particularly of him who brought it, how Spitridates did meet Phraartes? and by him understood that it was in a Wood; that Phraartes at first taking Spitridates for him, would have fled, but one of the men knowing him to be Spitridates, did first assault him; that all their men fought, but in conclusion, Phraartes seeing Tigranes afar off with his Squadron, he ran away, and got into a thick wood, where we lost the sight of him; that afterwards they understood, Araminta during the combat was in a Shepherd's Cabin; some two hundred paces from the place where they fought, and that Phraartes went and took her away, and carried her into a Port within thirty furlongs of the place, where those who guarded her had provided a Ship; and that he was no sooner come unto this Port, but he embarked; some reporting that he was wounded. This man related further, That Spitridates and Tigranes making towards that place, did come too late; and that they resolved to embark also, and to carry with them those whom you gave unto them, and at last sent him to relate the passage.  
When Cyrus had heard all that concerned Spitridates, he understood from Feraulas, that Arianita making no question but Cumes would be taken, was gone out of Sardis to Thybarra with Doralisa; whose Aunt had there some Estate and business; and therefore she was gone unto that place where she might be near her Princess and Mistress, when she was released: Feraulas, said further, that Pherenice having no mind to leave her was gone along with her. The Prince Myrsiles, who was present when Feraulas told this news unto Cyrus, was much joyed in his hopes of seeing Doralisa at the end of the Siege. But Cyrus had no sooner done with Feraulas, than an Envoy from the Prince Philaxippes was brought unto him, and another from the Prince of Cicilie, who sent Ships unto him, insomuch as Cyrus seeing fresh hopes of vanquishing and releasing Mandana, his soul was all tranquillity; but this calm lasted not long: For Mazares remembering that the King of Pontus had still the same Heliotropes wherewith he got Mandana out of Sardis, was extremely sad; and desiring to communicate his sorrows unto his Rival also, he told Cyrus of it the very same hour, who was so surprised at the apprehension of it, that his wonder was as great as his grief: Alas Mazares, unto what end is this Siege, to cast up any works, to have a puissant Navy, to have made a considerable breach, to have begun a Treaty, which in all probability will produce happy effects, if our Rival can still steal himself out of sight, and carry our Princess from us? Alas Mazares, I know not what to think, nor can have any constancy of hope; I cannot choose but fear this accident, against which there are no orders to be given: Oh heavens, how comes it to pass I should be so forgetful, and so blind, as not to foresee this misery? Doubtless the Gods have permitted it, replied Mazares, to the end you should go on with the Siege of Cumes so gloriously as you have done. But alas, replied Cyrus, to what purpose is it to have so happily advanced it in spite of all the obstacles that Nature and men could block in our way, since the quality of one little stone can render all our travels unprofitable? Perhaps at this very hour Mandana is not in Cumes, but that our Rival hath carried her away the third time: Truly Mazares I know not what to say or think, but I am sure, that I will never pardon my treacherous memory; Oh heavens, that such a drowsy sleepiness of spirits should possess my thoughts, in a business upon which depends all the good and bad fortune of my life. Alas, alas, I did but flatter myself with false hopes; for I must confess, that when I saw all things in so good a condition, I did not only begin to hope, but also to believe that I had ill expounded the menaces of the Gods in their Oracles; also ill understood the answer of Sibil, as likewise the answer of Jupiter Belus unto the king of Assiria: But now I plainly perceive that deceived myself, in thinking I was deceived, and that I am not yet at the end of my misfortunes. As soon as Cyrus had pronounced these words, a Soldier was brought unto him, who said he had a Letter to present unto him; Cyrus then asked him from whom it was? But he answered, that he could not tell; all he knew was, that it was written by a Prisoner who was carefully guarded in a Bithinean Castle, which joins upon Galatia; and that it was given unto him by one of his Guards whom he had suborned, with orders to bring it unto him. Cyrus then taking this Letter, not knowing from whom it came, he opened it, and found these words.  
The King of Assiria unto CYRUS.  
SIR,  
FOrtune, which is resolved to loaden me with all sorts of miseries, is not satisfied that I should owe you my life, but will also have me a debtor to you for my liberty: Remember Sir, that you can never enjoy Mandana, as long as I am a Prisoner to Arsamones; since you can never overcome me unless you release me, nor have the possession of that Princess unless you do overcome me, according unto your promise at Sinope. Remember Sir, that Cyrus is obliged to make good all the promises of Artamenes, and deny not an unfortunate Lover the satisfaction of hoping, either to be revenged, or die; and let him never be a Spectator of his Rival's Triumph.  
The King of Assiria.  
See generous Prince (said Cyrus unto Mazares, and gave him the Letter after he had dismissed him who brought it) See here, that our Rival is not dead: And consider I pray you, unto what odd adventures Mrs. Fortune doth expose me. Mazares then taking the Letter read it, and then agreed that the destiny of Cyrus was most strange: But though he was resolved to love without hope, and never to pretend any thing unto Mandana, yet he could not choose but be a little pleased at the root of his heart, to see a new obstacle unto the happiness of Cyrus; yet he was so generous as to hide this thought from a Rival who was so kind unto him, and to lament in appearance at the thing which he inwardly rejoiced at. In the mean time, though it was a most cruel task for Cyrus to release a Rival, and such a Rival as would not value liberty, but only to dispute with him for the enjoyment of Mandana, unto whom he could not pretend any right; yet he did not pause upon it at all, but presently took a resolution worthy of his great heart. For since he had another Rival for a witness of his carriage in the business, he surmounted his repugnancy of doing service unto an Enemy. Though I did never promise the King of Assiria (said he unto Mazares) but only to fight with him, and not to fight for him, yet I will consent unto his demand, and that as soon as I can, to the end, that if by good fortune the King of Pontus do not make use of that fatal stone▪ whose prodigious quality hath cost me so much trouble, but that we do deliver Mandana, I may then be the sooner a Conqueror, or Conquered. Mazares hearing Cyrus speak thus, could not choose, but out of a thought of deferring the liberty of one Rival, and the good fortune of the other, tell him that his generosity went abundantly too far: But Cyrus being prompted both by honour and love to make his resolution good, did not alter it. No, no, Mazares (said he unto him) I must not let the King of Assiria think that his valour is terrible to me, nor give Mandana any cause to think, that I spare myself a combat, to assure myself of her Conquest. After this, both these Princes began to imaagine, how the King of Assiria could be in Bithynia, and why Arsamones should retain him; and after good consideration of it, they conceived that this Prince at his departure from Sardis, had received some false intelligence concerning Mandana, which made him wend his course that way, and that being known, Arsamones arrested him, yet they could not well imagine his reason: For though they knew that the Princess Istrina, whom the King of Assiria so ●lighted at Babylon, in the time of the Queen Nitocris, was the Niece of Arsamones, and was then with him, as well as the Prince Intaphernes, whom the King of Assiria did so affronted; yet they could not conceive this to be a sufficient reason for arresting this Prince; nor could they imagine why Arsamones having arrested him, should make a secret of it.  
But at last, not being able to comprehend the reasons, Cyrus bethought himself how he should release the Assyrian King; and after a serious consideration, he resolved upon two ways. The one, to give orders for the drawing out of all Galatian and Cappadocian Garrisons, and of them compose a flying Army, which should quarter as near the Frontiers of Buthinia as they could: The other, to send unto Arsamones to demand the King of Assiria, with orders to offer a Ransom proportionable unto the Quality of the Prisoner, and to the magnificence of the offerer. After which, if Arsamones should refuse to restore him, than he who is to command the Forces quartering upon the Bithinian Frontiers, should advance towards the Castle where he is kept, and endeavour to surprise it. But Cyrus did not conceive it just, to weaken that Army wherewith he was to release Mandana, to go and release his Rival.  
This design being resolved upon, he looked upon Hidaspes as the fittest to go and put it into execution, commanding him to take the man who brought the King of Assiria's Letter along with him: And for the quicker expedition of the business, he dispatched his Orders the same day into Galatia and Capadocia by the Posts which he had placed in all the Dominions of Ciaxares, to the end; that when Hidaspes came, he might find things ready for the execution of his design. But oh heavens (said Cyrus, as he was giving his last Orders about this enterprise) Since I am obliged to employ all my cares of the liberty of my Princess, must I be also necessitated to take care for the liberty of my Rival? However, were I assured to see him shortly in such a condition, as that I should see him with a Sword in his hand, I should cheer up myself: But knowing the malignity of my Fates, I am almost certain to release my Enemy before Mandana. In the mean time Mazares, who knew he had carried this Princess from the King of Assiria at Sinope, repenting himself of his first thoughts, and to repair his infidelity towards him, had now a mind to contribute unto his liberty: But since he had more wronged Mandana then the King of Assiria, and consequently it more concerned him to repair the one than the other, he stayed in the Camp, to the end he might be present at the taking or rendition of Cumes, though the very imagination of the interview between Cyrus and Mandana would cut him to the heart. In the mean time, since the Fates were resolved to put the generosity of Cyrus to the utmost test, there arrived a messenger from Arsamones, who having demanded private audience, obtained it from Cyrus, who received a Letter from Arsamones under his own hand; but it being only a Letter of credance, it was from the man who brought it, which Cyrus knew the Proposition which the King his Master made.  
This Envoy being a man of parts, he prepared the mind of Cyrus by a very long Prologue, aggravating the unjust usurpations of the Pontean Kings upon those of Bithinea, and what violent affronts the King of Assiria had put upon a Prince and a Princess, who were so near related unto Arsamones: After which, desiring to induce Cyrus unto a consent to what he should desire: The King my Master (said he unto him, after he had sufficiently aggravated all causes of complaint against those two Princes) doth think himself to be happy amidst his misfortunes, in having such Enemies as yours, and cannot think that you will protect them against him. In this thought he hath commanded me to tell you, that knowing the King of Pontus will ere long be in your power, so the King of Assiria is already in his; and that if you will be pleased to put that usurping Prince into his hands, he will put the King of Assiria into yours, unless you had rather have him keep him a Prisoner to rid you of an Enemy. I do not use, replied Cyrus, to rid myself of my Rivals by any such ways; and I cannot choose but wonder, that a Prince who hath so gloriously reconquered his Kingdom, should desire to rid himself of his Enemy by such an ignoble way: But since Arsamones hath been so unjust, as to hold Spitridates in a rigorous Prison, who is one of the most illustrious Princes upon earth, I need not think it strange he should desire to use his Enemy so. However, though the King of Pontus be mine, and the King of Assiria also, yet I will neither deliver the first unto the King of Bithynia, nor secure the other, as he adviseth me; but on the contrary, I have several times offered the King of Pontus to reconquer his Dominions for him, if he will restore the Princess Mandana unto me; and I have this day sent to offer the King your Master, the King of Assiria's Ransom for his liberty. I pray judge after this, whether I can hearken unto any such Proposition as you make: But Sir, replied the Messenger, these two Princes are your Rivals, your Enemies, and the Ravishers of Mandana: It is most true, replied Cyrus, and therefore I am the more obliged to be revenged by honourable ways, and not to give them so much advantage, as to wound my reputation, which thanks be to the heavens, did never yet receive the least blemish: Tell therefore your Master, that I neither can, nor aught to do as he desires; and that if he be well advised, he will call home the Prince his Son, and suffer him to marry the Princess Araminta, whose virtues are high, to the end he may have a legitimate title to the Kingdom of Pontus, if the Fate of Arms should chance to make him perish in this War, to whom it now belongs. And as for the King of Assiria, I do intend to follow my first design in sending to Arsamones about him.  
This Envoy would have given farther reasons unto Cyrus, but this Prince was so constant unto his first Principles, as he imposed silence upon him: However, he gave orders that he should be treated well, and kept him two or three days in the Camp, to the end the Troops might have the more room to rendezvouz. Whilst he was there, Gadates understanding that he was a Bithinean, and sent by Arsamones, did much wonder that he should hear nothing from Intaphernes his Son, nor from the Princess Istrina his Daughter: But this messenger telling him that they knew not of his journey, his wonder ceaseed; and he writ unto them by him when he departed with Hidaspes. After which, Cyrus had more restless thoughts than he was able to Master; for as oft as he thought that Mandana was not in Cumes his sorrows were unexpressible. The sad disaster at Sinope, and that which he had at Sardis, made him apprehend such fears of taking Cumes, and not finding Mandana in it, that he was not in less sorrow then if the misfortune had happened already. In the mean time, these his fears which seemed so well grounded proved shadows, and the King of Pontus was as much perplexed at the loss of this Heliotrope, as Cyrus was in the belief that he still had it. Indeed, as oft as he remembered, that as he embarked at the Port Atarmes in such haste, when he took Spitridates for Cyrus, that he gave all his Heliotropes unto one of his men to carry, and when he remembered that he to whom he gave them did in the Tumult let them fall into the Sea, he was in a most desperate condition, accusing himself of extreme indiscretion for making so bad a choice of him he trusted, for the nearer the Truce was at an end, the further off was he of finding out any ways of escaping with Mandana. The Prince of Cumes, who saw his State lost if this Princess got out, had always a most watchful eye over the King of Pontus; so that which way soever he looked, all seemed disastrous to him: If he looked upon Mandana, he saw her still incensed against him; If he looked upon the Prince of Cumes, he saw his Protector become his Spy; If he turned his eyes towards the Sea, he saw a puissant Navy; If he looked towards the Land, he saw Works, Forts, and Soldiers resolved to vanquish or die: If he looked upon the Walls of Cumes, he saw such a breach, as would let in Cyrus upon the first assault: If he looked upon the Inhabitants of that Town, he heard nothing but murmurs against him; and if he considered himself, he found that he was the most unfortunate man in the world, whether he looked upon himself as a Lover, or only as a King without a Kingdom, or as the Enemy of Cyrus; for though he was obliged unto him, and might be more, if he would have accepted his generous offers, yet now he was nothing but a lump of black melancholy, since he could see no way to escape and could not resolve to part with Mandana. In the mean while, that faithful Agent which Cyrus had in the Town, negotiated underhand with the people, and disposed them to revolt, in case the Prince of Cumes and the King of Pontus should not accept of the offers of Cyrus, at the return of those whom they had sent to Licambes, to Pactias, to the Caunians, and to the Xanthians. This man was so active, and so fit for such an employment (his name was Tifernes) that he alone had inspired the Spirit of Revolt through all the Town: There was not one public place in all Cumes unto which he did not go two or three times in a day: If he saw any two men talking together, he would be sure to make the third, and with a cunning ingenuity, bring them unto his opinion: There was not a day on which he had not some horrid news or other to affright the people, which was circumstanced and dispersed, as it grew into a general belief. On the other side, Anaxaris, he was not without his share of perplexities, not but that he was treated with all the civility that a Prisoner of War could be nor was his Prison such a place as that he could comylain against it, and if his soul had not been more a captive then his body, he would easily have endured his misfortune.  
But since there is nothing more dangerous to look upon then a Beauty in misery; and since the Princess Mandana was the fairest unfortunate that ever was, Anaxaris, whose soul was of a passionate and tender temper, could not look upon her, but needs must love her. At the first he did attribute all his tender thoughts which he had of that Princess unto the compassion which he had of her misfortunes. He thought also for a while that it was as much the interest of Cyrus as the interest of Mandana, which made him so sensible of all that concerned her: But at the last his passion did so augment, that he knew the greatness of it, and knew it without any power to resist it: Since he saw Mandana every day, the fair eyes of this Princess did kindle such a violent flame in the heart of this violent unknown one, as all his reason could not quench it; not but that he saw very well that never any love could kindle with smaller hopes than his; but yet not being a Master of his own heart, he could not rule the motions of it, all that he was able to do, was to know he ought not to love Mandana; yet in excuse of his irregular passion, it must be said, that he saw Mandana in such a manner, as it was a very hard matter not to love her; he saw her in secret, and with some difficulty; and since it was by him she knew the state of the Siege, since she found him a very accomplished man, and looked upon him as the friend of Cyrus, and as a Prisoner of War in her behalf, she used him with as much civility as it was possible for her to express. Moreover, since they were both of them Prisoners, this conformity made such a kind of equality between them, as rendered her civilities more sweet and obliging. It may be further said in his excuse, that Mandana was never fairer than at that time: Indeed it may be said, that her prison did only keep her from being Sun burnt, and preserved the freshness of her complexion; he saw her then fair, sweet, civil and in misery, and he saw her thus every day: So that his heart being tentered by the tears of Mandana, Love did more easily wound it, and wounded it with such a poisoned arrow, that the wound was incurable. Alas (said he unto himself, when he considered the misfortune into which he was fallen) What can I ever pretend unto by this passion? Is it not the maddest fondness in the world to love such a person, who neither can, nor ought love me again, though she did know the violence of my passion towards her? For her heart belongs only to Cyrus, by so many several rights, as it would be the greatest extravagancy that ever was, to pretend any thing unto her; The inclination of Mandana is only to him, Ciaxares hath promised this Princess to him, and his incomparable valour hath conquered her; he hath fought and won several battles for her, he hath subjected several Provinces and Kingdoms to her, and will ere long take Cumes, and restore her to liberty: Judge Anaxaris what hopes thou hast of Mandana, thou whom she knows not, who dares not make thyself known unto her, and whom she could not love, though she did know thee: Never think to conquer that heart which the Conqueror of Asia hath conquered. Consider, that thou canst not do as the King of Assiria, the King of Pontus, and the Prince Mazares did; resolve courageously to banish that Princess out of thy heart who can never give thee hers. But alas (said he and reprehended himself) what good will it do me to oppose reason against an unruly passion, which glories in scorning it? The more unfortunate I see my Rivals, the more I excuse my own error; and since the King of Assiria, the King of Pontus, and Mazares were not able to defend themselves from the charms of Mandana, why should I be ashamed in my non-ability to resist them? The first of these loved her when he was unknown as I am; the second, though at the rate of whole Kingdoms, yet must love her, so far as to become her Ravisher; and the third, though he knew she loved Cyrus, though he was both Cousin and friend unto the King of Assiria, could not choose but love her, and commit a double treason in carrying her away, Know and believe Anaxaris for thy justification, that the charms of this Princess are inevitable; and that to fail after three such great Princes as I have named, is no weakness; submit then Anaxaris, submit unto Mandana, since thou canst not resist her; and without knowing why thou lovest, or without considering the sequel of so fond a passion, endeavour only to please her. Who can te●l (said he further to himself) whether all my Rivals will not ruin one another? and whether I may not thrive by their ruins? Also since I cannot choose but love Mandana, I have no way else but to delude myself as long as I can, for such is the composition of my soul, that though I were certain Cyrus were to enjoy her to morrow, yet I could not choose but love her. In the mean time, as hot as the love of Anaxaris was, yet he had reason enough to rule himself so far, as not to make his passion known unto the Princess who caused it; so that behaving himself towards her with a profound reverence, and unparallelled complaicense, she grew very friendly towards him. But to render himself more acceptable, and that he might the ofter see her, when he heard no news, he would invent it; and since he could not invent any wherein Cyrus was not brought in, and to be acceptable unto Mandana, he must needs bring him in advantageously; therefore he was extremely troubled to contrive it: His passion brought one extreme perplexity upon him; for knowing that the King of Pontus plotted how to get Mandana out of Cumes, he was at a stand, whether he should wish that Cyrus should release her, or the King of Pontus carry her away: If the first happened, he concluded that Cyrus would presently be happy, and Mandana at his dispose; but if the King of Pontus carried her away, perhaps he should never see her again: So that choosing rather to see her enjoyed by Cyrus, than never to see her, he was very vigilant that the King of Pontus should not execute his design. Also knowing by Persodes, that Cyrus and the King of Assiria were to fight, before any Marriage of Mandana, love moved him to fancy more advantage to himself by Cyrus' releasing her, then by the King of Pontus his carrying her away: So that making use of that correspondency which he had with those Guards whom Martesia had suborned, he carried the business so, as he gained almost half the Garrison. But since he had nothing to give them, he tampered with them, by telling them of the liberality of Cyrus, and put them in hopes to be highly recompensed, if they kept the Princess Mandana for him.  
Thus, making use of his Rival's virtue to further his design, he advanced it so happily, that he was almost as powerful in the Castle where Mandana was, as either the King of Pontus, or the Prince of Cumes; and if to make himself Master of it had been enough to release Mandana, doubtless he had tried it. But since that Castle commanded only one little part of the Town, that was not sufficient; also, since he might possibly fail in the enterprise, he feared lest in attempting to release Mandana, he should make her more miserable: So that to run no hazard, he deferred his design until he had got more Soldiers.  
This being the state of things, those who were sent unto the Xanthians, to the Caunians, to Licambes, and to Pactias, returned, and reported unto the King of Pontus, and the Prince of Cumes; that all of them thought it his only course to accept of the Propositions which Cyrus offered; Pactias and Licambes sent word, that fear was in their Army, and how they were persuaded, that if Cumes were taken without composition, their Troops would all disperse the next day, out of apprehensions that Cyrus would fall upon them; so that they were jealous of the Event, if the Treaty were not concluded: As for the Xantheans and the Caunians, they asked no more, but a speedy agreement of what was offered. These Messengers then bringing with them words of peace, and being come to the gates of Cumes, the people being incited by Tifernes, did in an instant flock about them, and asked them in a tumultuous and violent manner, what news they brought? So that the messengers to appease them, said they brought news of peace. This word Peace was no sooner pronounced, but passing from mouth to mouth, it caused such loud acclamations, that all the people ran to the place where those shoots of joy made the air ring a pleasing peal unto men that were weary of a tedious Siege. The Messengers were so environed with men, that they could not walk; do what they could, the crowd increased, before they had gone through one street, the greater half of all the people in Cumes had flocked into two or three streets. In the mean while Tifernes, who would not let such a favourable opportunity slip, went into the midst of this press, to bring things unto such a pass as he desired: He encouraged some in their desires of Peace, unto other, he said, that he heard say the King of Pontus and the Prince of Cumes would not accept of it; adding further, that it might be made without them, or else to force them to it: That the way to have Peace, was to open the Gates of Cumes unto Cyrus, who of an Enemy would become their Protector, if they would deliver the Princess Mandana to him. Tifernes had no sooner spoken this, but every one repeated it unto their companions, and they to others, adding more or less tartness, according to the temper of the rabble. Thus he did sow such seditious seeds amongst the multitude, as it was easy to be understood by their cries, which were heard from all parts, that if they refused Peace, the people would fly to the last refuge, and make it by force: When any Agents of the King of Pontus offered to oppose such tumultuous opinions, they threatened to kill them, and stopped their mouths On the other side, the Prince Anaxaris being advertised of what passed in the Town, he began to temper with the Soldiers, as Tifernes did amongst the people, still using the name of 〈…〉 them unto his bend. Sometimes he would tell them of the high recomp 〈…〉 〈…〉 them, otherwhiles he would intimate the glory which they would 〈…〉 the future under such an illustrious Conqueror, persuading th● 〈…〉 all lo●den themselves with riches under him. Then to take from others 〈…〉 Treason, he added, that by this act they would render the State unto the 〈…〉 Master, and that he would engage his word to serve him as much as he could 〈…〉 all shame out of their action, by talking of Glory, of recompense, and 〈…〉 brought them to promise that they would do whatsoever he desired them. In the mean while, the messengers having rendered their answers unto the King of Pontus, and the Prince of Cumes, the first of these was extremely perplexed, for he saw plainly that the other wished peace: So that not daring to oppose his Protector in downright terms, he only conjured him as his last favour, to protract the business a few days longer, under pretence of security for the Treaty, hoping, that since it was in a month when the winds use to be high, and the Sea rough and turbulent, a storm might happily arise, and disperse the two Fleets which blocked up Cumes, and so the Town might happily be saved, or at least be able to get away Mandana. The King of Pontus being very importunate, he persuaded the Prince of Cumes, yet their contest about it was so long, as the people had cause to think that these Princes did not accept those offers of Peace which were made unto them. On the other side, Cyrus having seen the Messengers as they passed; and understanding by the Heralds who convoyed them, that they reported words of Peace, he did not doubt of it: So that this Prince seeing himself upon the very point of being either happy or miserable, to release Mandana, or to lose her, to make a Peace, or to begin a War; he doubled all his diligence and cares, and began to bestir himself, as if the Truce ended the very same hour, and to order all things for a general assault; Philocles and Leontidas returned in all haste to their Fleet; The Prince Mazares to his Quarter; The Prince Artamas unto his; Persodes to the place where the Artillery was, and the generous Megabates with all the Volunteers about Cyrus waited with much impatience for an answer from those who were besieged: But the greatest fear was, that perhaps the King of Pontus would steal away Mandana by the help of the Heliotrope; yet sometimes his hope was, that this Princess remembering her adventure of Sardis, would not be so easily deluded: But for all this, his fears were above his hopes; so that every minute seemed an Age unto him. And since the contest between the King of Pontus, and the Prince of Cumes was very long; and since he all that while received no answer, he sent a Herald to demand it, thinking that this might more easily induce the people to revolt.  
But for the better furtherance of his design, he commanded the Herald to tell those those besieged Princes, that if they would not that very hour give him a positive answer, he would give an assault upon the Town, appointing the Herald also to disperse this report amongst the people as they went through the streets; and indeed the man did perform his charge so very well, as he struck terror into the hearts of all the People in going to the Castle; and Tifernes closing with this occasion, did blow their terror into fury, and made this multitude resolve to take Arms in their hands if this Herald received not a favourable answer unto his message. They also resolved to seize upon the persons of the two Princes, to seize upon the Gates, to let Cyrus enter, and to go afterwards unto the place where Mandana was. In the mean time, Anaxaris having a desire to eminent himself, and to make Mandana in some●ort obliged unto him for her liberty, he hearing that this Herald was with the Princes, and fearing that they would not conclude such a Peace as he wished, he began to make use of those Soldiers which he had gained, and to make himself Master of the Castle, which the People called the Prince of Cumes his Palace, to the end that seizing upon the King of Pontus and Mandana, he might have that glory which he pretended unto. In the mean time, the Herald which Cyrus sent, having received no positive answer to his demands, prepared for a return; but he no sooner appeared at the Gate of the Castle, than the People, who did with much impatience expect him, began to ask him whether or no a Peace was concluded? Insomuch as the man perceiving how much they desired it, did boldly answer them (purposely to make them revolt) that their Princes would not hearken to it, and that Cyrus therefore, as soon as ever he was returned to the Camp would give a general assault. These words were no sooner heard, but a tumultuous grumbling was amongst the People, and Fury passing from Spirit to Spirit, did in a moment disperse itself through all the Town, so that all the Inhabitants took up Arms, and laying aside all respects, would break open the Gates of the Castle.  
Anaxaris hearing this tumult, incensed the greatest part of the Garrison; so that the King of Pontus, and the Prince of Cumes being environed on all sides with Enemies, they found themselves in a pitiful condition: If they should offer to go out of the Castle, they should find the People all in fury with Arms in their hands; if they should stay in the Castle, they saw they were not Masters of it; that one part of their Soldiers would fight against the other, and that there was safety no where. The King of Pontus would then go to Mandana's Chamber, but the Guards, in lieu of obeying him, would themselves seize upon her person, which Anaxaris coming then to that place, did most courageously oppose.  
The King of Pontus having got some Soldiers to his Party, would force his passage to her; so that Mandana out of her Window did see a very fierce combat between those two Princes: 'Tis true, she hardly saw them, but Martesia saw more than she did, yet she saw enough to observe that Anaxaris fought for her with Heroic fury. In another place, the Prince of Cumes, to appease the People, desiring to show himself unto them he was forced to retire; so that he being come unto the place where the King of Pontus and Anaxaris fought the skirmish was more bloody. But in conclusion, the Party of Anaxaris being the stronger, and the King of Pontus being wounded in the right arm, he must submit; yet this Prince did not render himself, but remembering a back-pair of stairs from Mandana's Chamber which went into a back Court, he endeavoured to get up that way, leaving the Prince of Cumes hard set with those who were upon him: But Anaxaris, who used all imagineable prudence in this business, had placed a Guard there, so that this unfortunate King not being able to have so much advantage as to die at Mandana's feet, and fearing to fall under the power of a Rival, whose generosity he feared as much as his severity, he sought out how he might steal himself from the Victory of this great Prince: So that finding himself not able to fight, and seeing a Soldier, who was none of those whom Anaxaris had gained, he got him to open a secret door which was in the Wall of the Castle, that Anaxaris did not know of, and out he went, resolving to see if possible he could move the People to make some resistance. He was no sooner out, but he heard a most horrid noise, and understood from him with whom he lodged when he came first to Cumes, that the People had already seized upon the Gates of the Town, that they talked of letting the Troops of Cyrus to enter, that the greatest part of the Soldiers were revolted, and that there was but three ways for him to choose, either to hide himself, or to be taken, or to be killed.  
The King of Pontus being in this desperate condition, and desiring at least to hide his shame, did accept of an offer which this man did make, which was, to go into a Garden of his that looked towards the Sea, and therefore might in the night time give him an opportunity of some Fisher's Bark, when things were a little better settled, and the Fleet of Cyrus left blocking up the mouth of the Port: So that this unfortunate Prince leaving himself to the conduct of his angry destiny, followed this man in such an extreme rage and despair, as would have pitied the most cruel of his Enemies, if they had seen him in that pitiful condition: The abundance of blood which he lost, had died all his clothes sanguine, his Sword was red with the blood of them he had killed, but he carried it in his left hand, his right hand having received a wound, which caused him to withdraw out of Combat.  
As he walked in this posture, his mind was full of such sad and violent thoughts, that if he had strength enough to kill himself, doubtless he had freed himself from all his misfortunes at a blow, but he had lost such abundance of blood, that he was forced to live only because he could not die, and he was forced to lean upon a Soldier; and enter into that Garden which was to be his Sanctuary. In the interim, Anaxaris having none in Head before him but only the Prince of Cumes, he redoubled his valour the more furiously: But though his valiant Enemy was forced to fall at his feet when the King of Pontus parted from him, yet he made resistance with extraordinary valour, being seconded by him who took Anaxaris Prisoner, whose name was Thrasiles. Thus the Conquered became Conqueror, and the Captive took his taker Prisoner: Valiant Prince (cried Anaxari to the Prince of Cumes) do not force me to destroy you, I only desire to release the Princess Mandana, and not to hurt you: But in conclusion, seeing he would not yield, but still resisted, he fell upon him with so much fury, that after many wounds received, he fell dead at his feet: This death yet did not end the combat; for the valiant Thrasiles seeing the Prince of Cumes dead, in lieu of yielding, did whe● his courage, to revenge the death of his Prince, and to prevent being a Prisoner unto his Prisoner. But all he could do to vanquish or die, was in vain; to vanquish was impossible, and the generosity of Anaxaris would not let him die; for desking to acknowledge those civilities which he received during his imprisonment, he would not suffer any of his Party to kill him, but causing him to be surrounded by ten or twelve, he was forced to yield, as well as those few of h●s men which remained. He had no sooner laid down his Arms. but Anaxaris leaving him to be guarded by four Soldiers, went unto the Tower of the Castle, to see whether he was an absolute Master of it, and to seek for the King of Pontus; but he found that he was escaped out of that little door which stood open; and that there was no other tumult, than what the People made at the Castle Gate. Anaxaris then presenting himself unto these furious people; and having imposed silence upon them, he let them understand, that the King of Pontus was not in the Castle, that he himself was Master of it, that their Prince was dead, and that the Princess Mandana was in his Power: That if they would permit him to send unto Cyrus, he would promise them to obtain for them more advantageous conditions then ever their Prince would assent unto. He had no sooner said so, but the Inhabitants, without any sorrows for the death of their Prince, who had he lived would have punished them, did all cry out with one voice, that they would all do as he would have them, and that they had already a design to send unto Cyrus with offers to deliver up unto him the Gates of the Town, of which they were already Masters. Anaxaris desiring to dispatch one unto Cyrus, espied among the crowd the Herald which that Prince sent unto Cumes, who since he could not get out because of the Tumult, stayed there to see what this disorder would come unto: So that thinking it best to make use of him, he commanded him to come unto him, yet it went against the grain of Anaxaris to send this message, for had he followed the violent suggestions of his passionate soul, he would have defended the Castle both against the Inhabitants, and against Cyrus also.  
But since this design was void of all reason, and without any shadow of thriving in it, he rejected the thought of it. But as soon as he desired to speak with the Herald, the People bandying together in several herds, and after they had held a tumultuous council, began to cry, and say, that they would see the Princess Mandana before any was sent unto Cyrus: The Inhabitants of Cumes having no mind to open their Gates unto that Prince, until they were well assured that they were able to render him that Princess whom he would release, and until that Princess made them a promise to preserve their Town. Anaxaris then being desirous to give them satisfaction, said that he would go unto her; and indeed he went unto the Chamber of that Princess, who was with much impatience and fear expecting the success of this great tumult. But as soon as she saw Anaxaris, she began to hope the success was happy, especially when he came unto her, and in a most humble manner told her what the desires of the Inhabitants were: Madam (said he unto her) the state of your Fortune is changed, for in lieu of being under the power of the Pontcan King, the People of Cumes would shelter themselves under your protection, and by me desires to be honoured with the sight of you: Generous stranger, replied Mandana, How great are my obligations to you? What does not the King my Father owe you? And how much acknowledgements may you expect from the illustrious Cyrus, for whom doubtless you did undertake this which you have with so much courage and good Fortune executed? As long as I was in the Army of Cyrus (replied Anaxaris and blushed) doubtless I fought for you, for the love of you only: And Madam, I beseech you do not give unto him any part of what I have done in Cumes, since most certainly I did it only for the Princess Mandana, without the consideration of any but her: However (added he, and would not give her leisure to reflect upon his words) since the people Madam are impatient, since they have Arms in their hands, and since they may in a moment alter their resolutions, I beseech you Madam take a little pains for your liberty, to the end you may owe it unto none but yourself. Alas, generous Anaxaris, replied she, that is impossible; and though I ought rather to say, that I am a debtor for it unto a hundred thousand men, then unto myself, yet I will confine it unto more narrow limits; and assure you, that it is unto two, whereof you are one, unto whom I am particularly obliged for it.  
After this, Mandana under the conduct of Anaxaris went unto a Balcone which was over the Gate of the Castle, Martesia following her, where she no sooner showed herself, but the people did make huge shouts of joy: Yet they did not content themselves with the sight of her, but appointing six among themselves, as Deputies for the rest, Anaxaris let them enter into the Castle, and presented them to the Princess Mandana, who received them as men who designed her delivery; and they were so charmed with her sweetness, and dazzled with her beauty, as they hardly knew what they said: Some demanded that their Town might not be plundered, others that Cyrus would pardon them, and all speaking confusedly together, it was not an easy matter to answer them. But at last, Mandana not only promising that their Town should be preserved, but also be endowed with new privileges, they consented that she should send the same Herald which Anaxaris would have sent; yet upon condition she should write unto that Prince, saying in a rude manner, that perhaps he would not give credit unto the Messenger; beseeching the Princess further, for their greater security, that she would be pleased to meet Cyrus at the Gate of the Town, and to present them unto him, with the Keys which they would offer him. Mandana not thinking it good to contradict those men whom fear might make furious, consented unto their demands; and without more delay, Martesia gave her Pen, Ink, and Paper, wherein she writ these words.  
MANDANA unto CYRUS.  
SIR,  
SInce the valour of Anaxaris hath put me into a condition able to protect the Inhabitants of Cumes, I entreat you to incline unto clemency, to pardon a people who have done nothing but obeyed their Prince, to preserve their Town, to forget it hath been my Prison, and to observe the day of my liberty by a general Act of Oblivion: You have used to be so sweet after▪ a Victory, that I am confident you will not deny me; nor an I less confident, that you will keep that promise which I have made, as exactly, as I shall keep that which I make unto you, which is, to acknowledge as long as I live those infinite obligation which are upon me.  
MANDANA.  
As soon as this Letter was written, Mandana gave it to the Herald, who had orders also to tell Cyrus, that he should advance with his Troops towards the principal Gate of the Town, where this Princess, with the Inhabitants of Cumes, would be ready to receive him; and so the Herald making as much haste as a man who carries good and great news, he came unto Cyrus' just as he was ready to send another, to know what was the meaning of that tumult, which his Soldiers who were nearest the Town did hear: As soon as Cyrus saw him, he asked him why he stayed so long, extremely fearing to hear that the King of Pontus was vanished with Mandana, by virtue of his invisible Heliotrope: Sir, said the Herald, when you have read this Letter which I shall present unto you, I shall tell you the reason. But Cyrus no sooner opened the Letter which the Herald gave him, but knowing the hand of Mandana, he was so pleasingly surprised, that abudance of joy dissipating all fears, and chase all melancholy from his heart, did so sparkle in his eyes, as all those who looked upon him mighr easily know he had received good news. But when he read the Letter, and saw hopes of so on seeing his Princess, and seeing her at liberty, all the eloquence upon earth could not express his joys, yet was he a little vexed, that another should have a share in the liberty of Mandana, for the zeal of his love was such, as he wished (if it had been possible) that he had delivered her without an Army, with any stratagems, and without the help of any but himself; yet this trivial perplexity lasted but a moment, and after it was over, he was ravished with joy, that the glory of serving the Princess in so high a manner, was reserved for Anaxaris, whom he infinitely esteemed. As soon as he had read Mandana's Letter, the joys which appeared in his countenance, passed into the hearts of all the Soldiers, as soon as ever this great news was published; he caused the Herald to relate how all things passed, enquiring particularly concerning the King of Pontus: After which, he gave out all necessary orders, commanding all to be in Arms: Then in the Head of the Volunteers and Homotimes, he went within Arrow shot of the Gate, where he was to see Mandana, being also followed by as many Troops as he thought requisite to secure Cumes when he was entered.  
But since Cyrus could not go towards this Gate, but he must pass through the Quarters of Mazares, therefore he acquainted him with the state of things, and could not deny this generous Rival that favour which he asked: Sir (said Mazares unto Cyrus, and sighed, though glimpses of joy appeared in his eyes for the liberty of Mandana) I beseech you give me leave as a punishment for carrying away the Princess, to be a witness th' 〈…〉 day of your glory and felicity; and let me find so much favour from you, as that I may assure the incomparable Mandana, that my repentance is Real: You know Sir, she did me the honour to promise me her esteem and friendship, if I would fight on your side, I beseech you prompt her to be as good as her word; and the more to move you unto it, and also to force myself unto an observance of my word to you, I will make a new solemn oath unto you, never to fail, before the sight of that Divine Princess do put my virtue unto a new Test: Oh most generous Rival, said Cyrus to him, I do profess that if the Princess Mandana did but know you as well as I do, she would be unjust if she preferred me before you. In the mean time, though out of resentments of Love I ought to wish you would make a thousand protestations in lieu of one, that you will never pretend to any thing further than to the friendship of this Princess, yet that you may not be always my Conqueror in point of generosity, I will absolutely trust you, and be contented with your first promise, without any new Protestations: Come then (said he unto him) come along with me, and be assured, that if you keep within those limits which your virtue hath prescribed unto yourself, you shall find a most real friend in the person of a Rival, and infinite glory in the esteem and friendship of our Princess. After this, these two generous Rivals rid together, and went towards the place where they were to see Mandana, but they went with very different thoughts, for the joys of Cyrus were only troubled by his impatient longing to see this Princess, and the joys of Mazares were troubled whether he would or no, at those joys which he foresaw Mandana would have at the sight of Cyrus; yet he did so courageously bridle the violence of his Love, that his virtue did keep within his prescribed limits. In the mean while, Cyrus being come, as I told you, within arrow-shot of the Gate of Cumes, he sent a Summons unto the Inhabitants of the Town, to keep their word with him; and they resolving not to let him enter the Town, before he promised the Princess Mandana to preserve them, went to conduct her unto the Gate where they intended Cyrus should enter: She not being in a condition to deny them any thing, consented unto them, and in a Coach with Martesia went to the Gates of the Town. Anaxaris leaving the subtle and courageous Tifernes to command in the Castle in the mean time; not that the desires of his passionate soul was to be present at this interview; but because he would not leave Mandana to the conduct of a furious multitude, therefore he followed on Horseback; but he followed with a mind so full of unquiet thoughts, as he had much ado to restrain or hide them.  
In the mean time, since a timorous and mutinous people do all things out of a giddy fancy without any reason, so the Inhabitants of Cumes, who had invited Cyrus to approach took a toyish fancy, and would not let Mandana receive him within the Town, but would by all means have her come out of her Coach, and go out of the Gates, beyond the Bridge, to present unto him those men who would offer him the Keys of their Town. On the other side, Cyrus who could not imagine that Mandana would ever come out of Cumes to meet him, but on the contrary, thought that he was to go into the Castle; therefore he waited with extreme impatience on horseback, until they opened the Gates. He was that day in most glorious Armour, of so high a Garb, so Noble and so pleasing, as he attracted the eyes of all the world. Being then in all the impatiency that strong hopes of a near happiness could inspire, he fixed his eyes upon the Port of Cumes: Mazares looking that way as well as he, though with less hopes and impatience of another nature. And as these two generous Rivals were thus in expectation; they saw the Gates open, and Mandana immediately to appear conducted by Anaxaris, but she appeared more fair and fuller of charms then ever, her joys to see Cyrus and herself at liberty did so sparkle in her eyes, and elevate her spirits, that her Beauty was fuller of lustre. In the mean time Cyrus and Mazares no sooner saw her, but they alighted immediately from their horses, and went towards her.  
As soon as Cyrus came near, Anaxaris, as well to hide the agitation of his spirits, as out of his respects, did quit the Princess hand, and let Cyrus have the liberty of taking it, and Mandana to receive him, and present the twelve Inhabitants of Cumes which followed her, one of which number carried the Keys of the Town in a rich Basin: So that Cyrus walking in the head of all the Volunteers in his Army, and Mandana before the Inhabitants of Cumes, behind whom was a huge crowd of people, they both did meet. After Cyrus had saluted Mandana with all the reverence of a real Adorer: I am come Madam, said he unto her, to make good all that you have promised for your liberty, though it be at the rate of my life: My liberty Sir, replied she, would be bought a● too dear a price, if it should cost the life which is so glorious and so pleasing unto me Nor am I engaged any further Sir (said she in presenting the Inhabitants of Cumes unto him, who were all upon their knees) then to obtain of you, that you be pleased to use these men well, who offer you their hearts, in offering you the Keys of their Town, and who assure you, that they will be more obedient unto a just Psince, than they have been unto one who was not so, in protecting the King of Pontus: Madam, replied Cyrus, their destiny is in your hands, not mine, since I am fully resolved never to do any thing but what shall please you, and positively without any exception, do all that you shall command me: I conjure you then (said she unto him) to use these Inhabitants of Cumes as well as you would use the most faithful of my Father's Subjects: I have already professed Madam (replied he) that I am all obedience; therefore if you please to command it, they shall themselves keep the Keys of their Town, which they have not lost, but to make themselves more happy by it, since they are under your protection. Cyrus bade no sooner spoke these words, but the Inhabitants gave such shouts of joy, as they went from street to street, until the Echo did ring at the further end of the Town. Then, after Mandana had confirmed what Cyrus spoke, she did most obligingly present Anaxaris unto him: Though this valiant stranger, said she unto him, would have me acknowledge you only for my Deliverer; yet I must needs tell you, that he hath done incredible things for my liberty, and that I am more his debtor than I know how to express. Anaxaris then holding down his head to hide the disorder of his countenance, did modestly and with much delight receive the commendum which Mandana gave him, and received the thanks which Cyrus gave him with much sorrow: After which, Cyrus to keep promise with Mazares, presented him unto the Princess Mandana, Madam (said Cyrus unto the Princess) you would do abundance of wrong, if you should say, that you owe your liberty only unto me, for without all doubt, the valour of Mazares hath much contributed unto those victories which I have gotten; and since he hath given me a thousand testimonies of a generous repentance, I beseech you readmit him into that friendship and esteem which you had of him when you were in Babylon, I beg it Madam, replied Mazares, upon the same conditions which I propounded at Sardis, when it was not your pleasure I should have the glory of delivering you: I do consent unto it, replied she with much joy, since that I have recovered an Noble friend whom I thought for ever lost.  
Thus might be seen that which perhaps will never be seen again; for Mandana presented unto Cyrus one of his Rivals, and Cyrus presented another unto Mandana. In the mean while, since the place was not fit for any long discourse, Cyrus beseeched the Princess to go into her Coach which he saw within the Gate. But since he would prevent all surprisals, and since he would not let Mandana enter into that Town where his Forces were not, he commanded her Coach to come out of the Town, beseeching her she would be pleased to see those Troops pass who had both the honour to fight for her, and now to guard her. Mandana understanding his design, went into her Coach with Martesia, and the Coach stood so as the Soldiers might all march just before it. Cyrus, Mazares, and Anaxaris did stand next the Princess, all three with different thoughts. After which, the Troops began to march and pass by the Coach, all the Officers and Soldiers, saluting as they passed, by holding down their Javelines. All this while, Cyrus who was next the Coach, and who only talked with Mandana, was sensible of so much delight as filled his heart, his spirits, and his soul. Mandana for her part seeing herself at liberty, and seeing Cyrus next her, she was also full of pleasing satisfaction, but being a Person of superlative modesty, she did much conceal it. Also she desired to avoid all occasions of Cyrus his speaking to her of his Passion in that place; therefore beginning the discourse first, as soon as he came unto the Coach whilst the Troops marched by: Sir (said she unto him) I hope you will not think it ingratitude, if before I thank you for abundance of obliging favours, I desire you to tell me what news you hear from the King my Father? You never need to fear Madam, replied he, that the man who by all his services can never oblige you, can accuse you of any ingratitude: But I am more afraid you should 〈…〉 of incivility in telling you only in three words, that the King your Father 〈…〉 preparing to defend himself against Th●miris, who they say intends to 〈…〉 in good health, that he will be infinitely joyed at your liberty, and 〈…〉 the honour to love me: However Madam, though I do infinitely 〈…〉 and though you do desire to know more, yet I beseech you give me leave Madam 〈…〉 a low voice) to speak unto you of nothing during eight days, but concerning myself: For truly Madam, I have a thousand things to impart unto you, which do infinitely concern me you should know. If you will be pleased to relate all your Conquests, all your Victories, and all your glorious acts (replied she most obligingly and smiled) the term you mention is not long: No Madam, replied he, I shall not talk of War, or Conquests, or Victories, for if I should speak of them, I should speak then only of the King your Father, since it is his Arms that have conquered: But Madam, I shall speak to you concerning all the sorrows I have had since I left you at Themiscira, and and the infinite joys which I have to find you at Cumes, which I miss of at Sinope, at Artaxates, at Babylon, and at Sardis. But Madam, to complete my joys, I beseech you do me the honour to confess, that the most illustrious Princess in the world was once in her life unjust, in suspecting the most faithful man alive of infidelity: Oh Sir, replied Mandana and blushed, I must confess myself injurious, and will never go about to justify myself in a thing which I entreat you to forget, and conjure you, as you love me, never to speak of again. However Sir, since it is not civil to regard so little those who have helped to crown you with Laurels, it were good we deferred the relation of your disasters and mine until a more fit time and place; and that now I look upon so many brave men, to whom I am beholding for their indefatigable labours they have endured for me; nor can I do any less for those who have helped to conquer your enemies and mine: Since Madam, I can desire nothing but what you please, replied he, I must obey you, though I could perhaps complain a little that your joys are at so a calm in your Spirits, as they will permit you to keep such exact civilities: But since it were a crime to complain of any thing on a day whereon I have so much reason to commend my fortune, I will impose silence upon myself, and since you are pleased to honour with your looks those men who have had the glory to fight for you, I conceive they are thereby better recompensed, then if I had given them all the Treasures of Croessus. After this, Mandana without any other answers to the civility of Cyrus, than an obliging smile, began to ask the names of those Commanders who passed by, which he told her; and to do Justice unto so many brave men which had so courageously followed them into all dangers whereunto they led them; he did not only tell Mandana the names of those she asked, but also he related unto her the occasions wherein they did signal themselves, commending all the Commanders one after another as they passed by.  
Mandana also asked him the names of the Volunteers, and among the rest of Megabates, of whom Cyrus gave a most excellent Character, desiring her to receive him as a man extraordinary when ever he presented him unto her. All this while Mazares and Anaxaris were so wholly taken up with their Passions, that they looked upon nothing but Mandana and Cyrus, but looked upon them with very various and different thoughts. Anaxaris who before he was a Prisoner in Cumes, and in love with Mandana, was an infinite admirer of Cyrus, did now envy, and almost hate him; and the less hopes he had, the more did his love increase. On the other side, Mazares seeing Mandana with the same Beauty, and very same charms which forced him to love her, and constrained him to hate the King of Assiria, had much ado to keep within those limits which his virtue had prescribed unto himself, his spirits were rebellious, his heart trembled, and all his desires so disordered, that he was in a most restless condition; but his hopes were so very low, that he quickly recollected himself, especially when he remembered the pitiful condition wherein he left the Princess the last time he saw her, when the Scarf broke loose by which he held her, and held her up upon the Waves. Fie Mazares (said he unto himself, and looked upon Mandana whilst Cyrus talked to her) Canst thou that was a cause of that Princess death thou that deceived her, thou that carried her away, thou that left her upon the merciless Waves ready to perish if the Gods had not relieved her, canst thou be so fond impudent as to hope for any thing but a Pardon for thy crimes? Fie, fie, no, no, thou canst never pretend to any more, thou must love her as thou didst before, because thou canst not choose but thou must call thy love friendship, lest she should refuse what she did promise.  
In the mean while, all the Troops being entered into Cumes, and Cyrus knowing that they were Commanders of all the Ports, Public place, and the Castle, did appoint the Princess her Coach to enter: This Prince following, accompanied with Mazares, Anaxaris, all the Volunteers and the Homotimes. But when the Coach began to go forward, and as Mandana turned her head, Cyrus saluted Martesia, and made certain obliging signs, which intimated that he had an extremely desire to talk with her. After which, this little triumph, the beauty of Mandana, and the good deportment of Cyrus being the chief ornaments, was beheld with acclamations of the common People, the like was never heard: The Streets, the Gates, the Windows, and House tops were full of People; The air echoed with shouts of joy in praises of Mandana and Cyrus, and with wishes of their felicity. In the mean time, Tifernes foreseeing that Mandana would return to lodge in the Castle, caused the Prince of Cumes corpse to be taken away, and carried into the Temple: Also he caused the bodies of all those Soldiers to be carried away, which the valour of Anaxaris had sacrificed unto the liberty of that Princess, and he locked up the valiant Thrasiles in one of the Towers: So that when the Princess came there, not any sad objects were to be seen.  
Cyrus' understanding by the Herald he sent, what service Tifernes had done him, did make very much of him as he entered into the Castle, in which he was no sooner come, but he presented his hand unto Mandana to help her out of the Coach, and turning very sweetly towards Anaxaris, he addressed his speeeh unto him: It is you; valiant unknown one, said he unto him, that must command in a place which your valour hath conquered, and it is you must tell me whether I must conduct the Princess: Sir (replied Anaxaris, with a strange confusion) it appertains not unto an unknown one to command any where; but doubtless, the man who hath had the honour to bear the same chains Mandana did, to show you which was her Prison; therefore Sir, if you please, you may go up those stairs upon your right hand: For my part (said Mandana unto Cyrus, purposely to oblige Anaxaris) I do not wonder this illustrious unknown one should so well know the way of a Prison, whose doors he knows so well, and so courageously how to open: But it's strange methinks (added she, and looked upon Cyrus with a smile) that my Deliverer should go about to bring me again unto it; and that the Conqueror of all Asia should need a guide, he who knows how to find out Victory wheresoever he will look for it, though it be the most difficult thing in the world to find: You do me wrong Madam, replied he, if you think that victory was my only aim in all my erterprises, since I never regarded it, but only as a means to conduct me unto you. Since Mandana's chamber was but just one pair of stairs high, she had not time to answer Cyrus, for as soon as she was in the Chamber, Cyrus presented the renowned Volunteers which followed him unto her, amongst the rest Megabates, whom the Princess received with civility equal to his merit. In the mean while, since it grew late, and since prudence prompted Cyrus to take care for the security of the Town, and in it Mandana, especially since the King of Pontus could not be found, he had at that time no long discourse with the Princess, yet he could not possibly leave her, before one quarter of an hours talk in private, and before he had given her new assurances of his fidelity and respectful Passion. You see here Madam, said he unto her, the very same Artamenes who at the first in the Garden of Sinope, did protest that he would love you as long as he lived, and you see him now at Cumes ready to assure you by new Protestations, that he is still, and ever will be the same. You have given me such magnanimous testimonies of your affection, replied Mandana, that it is not necessary to confirm them by words; a thousand glorious actions, and as many important services have sufficiently persuaded me of it: But it is my part, who have nothing but words to give, to make choice of my best eloquence, whereby to assure you Sir, that I am as full of acknowledgements, as any sensible and generous heart is capable of: Oh Madam, replied Cyrus, though all you words be most precious, and though you gave me the most favourable language in the world, yet that's not it which I would have; and I should be much better satisfied with one thought of that heart which you say is more sensible and generous, then ten thousand words of thanks, civility, or acknowledgements: Never trouble yourself Madam, I beseech you, to study words, as it seems you design; let the eloquence of your eyes only tell me, you are not sorry that you reign in my heart: Let me, I say, to my felicity think, that your liberty is not the only cause of joy in your countenance, and that if Cumes had been taken by any then myself, you would have been less satisfied: Though you do not much value my words replied Mandana and smiled, yet I will tell you, that you have reason to believe that I think my liberty sweeter from your hand, then from any other; and I will add further yet, that since I have been the cause of all your sorrows, I should be unjust, if I did not allow you to think, that the joy which you see in my eyes proceeds from the satisfaction which I have in seeing you again. Oh Madam (said Cyrus) when I said that I did not value your words, I knew not what I said, for I find them so sweet, and so glorious unto me, that I am fully recompensed for all the sorrows I have suffered, so they be not spoken only out of a bare civility, such as might perhaps be due unto a Prince whom Fortune employed for your delivery: Therefore Madam, if you will be pleased to complete my happiness, do me the honour to confess unto me, that all these your infinitely obliging expressions, are addressed unto me as your Captive, and not as unto a Prince whom Fortune hath made a Conqueror of others: If I could separate Cyrus from the Conqueror of Asia, replied Mandana and laughed, I would divide my civilities to content you; but since they are inseparable, give me leave without any distinction to speak equally to them; and since I find in one and the same person, a great Prince, a great Conqueror, and my Deliverer, give me leave to render unto him what I think is due: I beseech you Madam (said Cyrus and interrupted her) take from me the two first of these qualities which you attribute unto me, and give me another, which would better suit with me: I have been so long amongst men, to whom I denied all they asked (replied Mandana in a most obliging kind of rallary) that you need not think it strange, since I cannot so soon lose the habit of denying, if I do not now consent unto all you ask; for I assure you, I am not yet so well persuaded that I am free, but sometimes I fancy that I see the King of Pontus appear. To prevent that Madam, replied Cyrus, it is requisite I leave you, that I may go and give all necessary orders for it. So Cyrus, after a most profound reverence unto Mandana, went out of her Chamber: Mazares, Anaxaris, and all the rest followed.  
These two thought the conference between Cyrus and Mandana so long, that the virtue of Mazares was put unto a difficult trial, and the impatience of Anaxaris was ready to break out; yet they followed Cyrus with faces and hearts full of melancholy unto all places where he went to give orders. In the mean time, though the ruin of a Rival be a thing which every one would endeavour, yet Cyrus who was once obliged to the King of Pontus when he went under the name of Artamenes, and who maugre his love, looked upon him as Brother to the Princess Araminta, whom he exceedingly honoured, he was not so angry as he would have been without these two considerations; First, that he was escaped his revenge; Secondly, that he was not to be found; not that he was resolved if he had found him, to alter his generous way of usage which he ever observed to him when he was his Prisoner, and when he gave him his liberty at Sinope: But yet he was not sorry, that Fortune did not put him to the necessity of treating a Rival ill, if he had fallen in his power: And therefore in the Evening he sent a Bark unto the Prince Thrasibulus, and unto Thimochares, to bring their Fleets into the Port of Cumes the next morning, that by this means the King of Pontus' might more easily escape if he were hid in the Town, as very likely he was. Moreover, Cyrus lest any stirring should be amongst the People, who are much moved at sad objects, he commanded, that the next night the Prince of Cumes should be buried, without any noise or much ceremony; yet desiring that his ashes might be put into the Sepulchre of his Fathers, and that all the honour should be done him which the present conjuncture of affairs would permit. After he had given all necessary orders, both for the safety of Mandana and of the Town, he returned to the Castle where the Princess was; yet he could not see until after Supper, for he was so Courted by abundance of company, that he could not get sooner from them: All the several Corporations of the Town came to salute him, and went afterwards unto the Princess Mandana, whether Cyrus sent them. But at last, after he had shaken off all hindrances of satisfaction unto his extreme desire, of talking with his dear Princess, he went unto her Chamber, without the company of any but Chrisantes and Feraulas: As for Mazares, his soul was not so firmly settled, as that he durst see the Princess any more that day: And as for Anaxaris, love, jealousy and spite, made him retire unto some place where he might vent his melancholy.  
Cyrus then being delivered from all his Rivals, and from all his friends too, who in such occasions are as troublesome as Enemies, went as I told you unto Mandana's Chamber. But meeting Martesia in the outer Chamber, he must needs stay a little with her, unto whom he was so infinitely obliged, ad▪ principally for affirming his fidelity, when Mandana accused him with so much injustice: If you did not know (said he most civilly unto her) how much I am devoted unto our Princess, and what power she hath over my heart, I should have some cause to fear you would complain against me; for I confess, my sweet Martesia, that I have not yet either looked upon you, or spoke one word unto you, and which is more strange, until I have spent eight days in t●l●ing with, and looking upon Mandana, I do not think I shall be able to talk with, or look upon any else; yet I do profess Martesia, to esteem you as much as is possible, and that I am extremely beholding unto you for taking my part, and have the greatest desire in the world to talk with you, though as I told you before, I cannot do it yet this eight days.  
To lose no time in tedious answers (replied Martesia) I do believe Sir all that you are pleased to tell me, though if I did consider only myself, I oughtsnot to believe you, and though I will not trouble you, yet I hope you will not take it ill if I ask Feraulas concerning all that I desire to know of you: Feraulas (replied Cyrus and laughed) hath so much to speak of himself, that I doubt whether he can tell you any thing concerning me: Since I shall begin the discourse, replied she and blushed, he must needs answer me: No no, replied Cyrus, I will not do the man who hath so well served me so ill an office; therefore Martesia, I will dispense with you this day for talking of me unto Feraulas, provided you will talk of me unto my Princess, and still persuade her, that my extreme affection deserves to be preferred before any of my Rivals. After this, Cyrus left Martesia, and went into Mandana's Chamber, where he found none with her, but two women whom the Prince of Cumes preferred to wait upon her; she no sooner saw him, but she did rise to salute him, she received him with as much civility as the Conqueror of Asia did merit, and with as much joy as the sight of a faithful and respectful Lover, and liberator could inspire into her: Since there was none to observe their actions, she allowed her eyes to satisfy her soul in looking upon Cyrus, yet it was with so much modesty, as that Prince was a little afraid in accosting her; for since he never had any absolute permission from her to speak openly of his Love, and since when he departed from Themiscira unto Thomiris, he obtained no further from Mandana, but that if he did not find out a way to make himself known unto Ciaxares, and to procure his liking, he should then for ever absent himself, he had apprehensions of this still; therefore, to let her see how this obstacle was removed, his design was, after the first civilities were over, to talk of Ciaxares, and to let her know how much he was in that Prince's favour, but that labour was saved; for this Princess, who did ever regulate her thoughts according unto the King her Fathers, and who had an extreme desire to know upon what terms Cyrus stood with him, she began first to speak of him.  
I pray Sir (said she unto him) before you make any relations of what hath happened unto you, tell me whether the King my Father be pleased with you, and whether he receives all those Laurels wherewith you have crowned him well from your hand? He is so well satisfied Madam, replied Cyrus, and hath made me such glorious promises, as if you will be pleased to confirm them, I am the happiest amongst men. You may very well conceive Sir (said she and blushed) that since I was ever resolved to obey him, even in things most contrary to my own inclination, and least agreeable unto you, that I shall most willingly obey him in things most suitable unto my desires, and most advantageous unto you: But though I do not question the truth of your words, yet I will promise you nothing, until I know from his own mouth what he hath promised; yet let me assure you, that if he be as full of acknowledgements as I am, you have good cause to be well satisfied. Though your language Madam be most obliging, replied Cyrus, yet I may find some cause of complaint: But since you have ever accustomed me unto extreme security, I am most submissive unto your pleasure Madam, provided you will give me leave to relate all my sufferings: Since it were high injustice Sir, not to hear of those miseries which myself hath caused during so long a War, I shall be very glad you acquaint me with all the hardships you had in Armenia, all the miseries you suffered at the Siege of Babylon, all those you endured at Sardis, and also at Cumes: Oh Madam (said Cyrus) These are not the things I desire to talk of, but it is of the insufferable sorrows of my soul to leave you when I left Themiscira; of the horrid apprehensions of my heart at my return, when I understood that Philidaspes had carried you away, and that I had saved his life; my excessive grief in taking Babylon and not releasing you my horrid despair at Sinope, when I thought the flames had reduced you to ashes, my dismal apprehensions in finding only the King of Assiria on the top of the Tower, and in seeing the Galley with which Ma 〈…〉 carried you away, my deadness of heart and soul when I thought you perished, my vexation to find you in the power of a Rival when I heard you were living, my melancholy 〈…〉, when I delivered the Princess Araminta in lieu of the incomparable Mandana 〈…〉 see you on the other side of the River, and I not able to follow you, my grief to hear that you were embarked at the Port of Cicilie, my sadness of soul to hear that you suspected me of infidelity, my unutterable grief when I took Sardis and could not find you in it, my fury, when I heard my Rival had found out an art to make you invisible, my torment to be always amongst my Rivals, and still separated from you.  
These Madam are the sorrows which I desire to talk of, in hopes, that judging of the greatness of my Love by the greatness of my sufferings, you may know me better: It seems we have long been separated, (replied Mandana with a modest sigh) since you have forgot, that though I permitted you to love me, yet I could never endure you should speak to me of your Love. My Love Madam, replied Cyrus, was at that time a hidden mystery, I durst not then tell any that I loved you; but now, since all the world knows me to be your Adorer, and since Ciaxares himself approves of it, it were not just that you only should be ignorant of my love: For truly Divine Princess, there is not one Soldier in the King your Father's Army, who knows not that he hath fought only for you: I could never have any joy in all the Victories I have gotten, because in getting them I could not release you; I acquainted all my Rivals with my Passion, Mazares himself would sometimes pity me, and would you Madam be the only one in all the Universe unto whom it should not be spoken? Oh Madam, this would not be just: Speak on then, said she unto him, since there is no remedy: But I pray Sir give me leave also to relate my sorrows: I am afraid Madam, replied he, that they are not much different from mine; for methinks I hear you aggravate your sorrows, for being so often carried away, and exposed unto so many voyages, so much pains, and so many dangers without your making me a sharer in them; and how to my infinite glory and delight would it have been, if I had been the cause of your greatest sorrows: But alas Madam, I perceive you do not think me worthy of any such obliging expressions, as to tell me I was any cause of them, nor will you permit me so much as to think it: Yet I assure you, replied she, that my fears lest you should perish in some of those dangers into which you exposed yourself for the love of me, was one of my greatest sorrows: Your language Madam, replied he, is most obliging, but since your sorrows might perhaps proceed only from generosity, they were not of that nature which I desired: For truly Madam, did you know how to love, you would know that absence from the person loved is a most horrid torment: But since the Gods have made you only to be loved, and since they have infused love enough into my heart, to make me endure this modest coldness, which still opposeth my felicity, I will not murmur to see you no more sensible of my zealous Passion: Yet Madam, to my consolation, I would gladly believe, that your modesty doth hide some of your thoughts from me, and that I do not see all the advantageous resentments of your heart: Being a Prince of so much virtue as you are (replied Mandana and blushed) and knowing me so well as you do, I will freely permit you to believe, that I have all the advantageous thoughts of you, all the esteem and tenderness which in any reason I ought to have of a Prince, unto whom the King my Father is a debtor for his life, and many Victories, and unto whom I owe my liberty and something more. After this Sir, be contented, and ask me no more, for as well accustomed as you are to get Victories, you shall get no more of me. At these words, Cyrus did render a million of thanks unto Mandana, for the Permission which she gave him; and then they began to make short relations unto each other of all their adventures, but it was in a different manner, for Cyrus feared that he could never say enough to set forth the violence of his Passion; and Mandana was so full of tenderness towards Cyrus, that she feared lest she should say too much, yet the conversation was most sweet and pleasing unto Cyrus; for Mandana was not so absolute a Mistress of her looks and words, but that Cyrus saw by the motion of her eyes, that her heart was not insensible; so that sometimes his excess of joy would silence him, and he would gaze upon her without a word; and sometimes again he would break into such raptures of expression, as it was most plain his love was stronger than his reason: I beseech you Madam (said he unto her, when he perceived the disorder of his own spirits) pardon me, if I cannot master my joys, for I profess they are so great, that the more I consider you, the more reason I find to devote my whole heart unto you; for since I am now so near the divine Mandana, after so long and sad an absence, after I believed her lost, and bewailed her death, this is so high a joy, as is absolutely unutterable, when I call to mind the miserable condition I was in when I love●d you at Sinope, and compare it unto my present happiness: Oh heavens, what an advantageous difference do I find? For I was then unknown unto you, I durst not then tell what I was for fear of being hated, though I knew I could never be loved unless I were known; I had a great King to my Rival, and another Rival in the head of a puissant Army, and I saw every thing against me: But now Madam, I find the King your Father for me, I see the King of Pontus without a Kingdom, or any receptacle, I have the Prince Mazares my friend in lieu of Rival, and I see the King of Assiria a Prisoner unto Arsamones, judge therefore I beseech you Madam, whether the extravagancy of my joys be not excusable: Since I am yet far from Ecbatan, replied she, I must confess, I cannot resent the happiness which I enjoy, out of fear it should be molested by some accident which I cannot foresee; yet since it is vanity, to make imaginary miseries, I will hope that our happiness will be durable, and that Fortune will be as constant in smiling upon us, as she hath been in her frowns against us. After this, Mandana hinting unto Cyrus that it was late, this Prince retired, and went out of her Chamber, with spirits so full of passion, as he neither saw Martesia, nor Chrisantes, nor Feraulas, who never stirred out of the outer Chamber, and was not able to take his mind of that divine Princess whom he loved; he came unto his own Chamber, and there undressed himself, whilst his fancy was still fixed upon the same object; and sleep, as powerful as it is, could not deface the Idea of Mandana in his imagination.  
Now did he begin to accuse himself for making such a bad interpretation upon the Sibels answer, and upon the King of Assiria's Oracle, and he began to hope, that the Oracle rendered unto the Princess of Salamis would be as happily accomplished for him, as for her, His soul was now so solely devoted unto joy, as he never regarded the combat which he was to have with the King of Assiria as a thing of any doubtful event, nor ever troubled himself to consider how sorry Mandana would be if she knew it; on the contrary, he contemplated upon nothing but the beautie-superexcellencies, and charms of his Princess, and he lulled himself so in the fancy of Mandana, that he saw her in his sleep as well as when he was awake; he imagined that he saw himself presenting her unto Ciaxares, and saw Ciaxares give her again unto him in recompense of all his travels and pains. Mandana on the other side entertained herself with her dear Martesia, confessing ingenuously unto her, that she never in all her life saw Cyrus so amiable as now, and that she could not choose but think herself extremely happy in her reigning in the heart of the greatest Prince in the world.  
But whilst these two illustrious persons did delight their souls in the innocent pleasures of seeing each other, Mazares, Anaxaris, and the King of Pontus were all full of different resentments; a civil War, whose victory was doubtful, did flame in the heart of the first of these; for sometimes his virtue was weaker than his love, and sometimes his virtue got the upper hand: But for the second, his love of Mandana was so violent, that he had not the least thought of opposing it, though he could not imagine ever to find out any way of satisfaction: So that abandoning himself both to his love and his despair, he was in a most miserable condition: But as for the third, his misery did transcend them both; for the truth is, the King of Pontus was in such a deplorable condition, as he would have moved Mandana and all his Rivals to pity him, if they had but seen him. Since the man who did hide him was not acquainted with the virtue of Cyrus, he imagined, that if this Prince did know how he concealed the Ravisher of Mandana from his revenge, he would severely punish him; so that for more surety, he put this unfortunate King into a little Cabin in a corner of the Garden, where the Gardener lodged. This bad lodging yet was not at all resented by this unhappy Prince, though he was much wounded, and could hardly be dressed: But when he considered that Mandana would treat Cyrus as her Deliverer, that he had for ever lost her, that she would eternally hate him, that he was miserable in the same Town where his Rival was happy, that he knew not how to get out, and that 〈…〉 he should fall into his power, his resentments of these were unexpressible: The 〈…〉 also he had an addition of double sorrows, for Mandana having a desire to ren 〈…〉 ●●to the Gods as well as Cyrus, this Prince would needs have her go unto the T 〈…〉 so●● magnificent ceremony, to the end the People might better see her: 〈…〉 not go unto the Temple of Neptune, so much celebrated in Cum 〈…〉, 〈…〉 tie pass under the Walls of this Garden, and under the Wind●● o● 〈…〉 the King of Pontus was, this magnificent Pomp did pass that wa 〈…〉. So 〈…〉 te Prince hearing the noise which the Troops made, as they passed be 〈…〉, he asked that Soldier which followed him what noise it was; and he 〈…〉, that it was the Princess Mandana going unto the Temple of Neptune to tender thanks unto the Gods, he was so transported with Love, that he would see her once more before he died; and therefore did rise out of his homely bed to look out of this little Window, which was made only of a few Reads, and where indeed he beheld all that passed: But when he saw Mandana in a Triumphant Chariot with such joy in her looks, as augmented her beauty, he was sensible of more sorrow than ever was man before; that which grated him unto the very heart of his soul, was to see Cyrus on horseback next Mandana's Chariot, and to see him in a Garb so high, and Port so majestical, as in spite of his sorrows and jealousy, he could not choose but think him worthy of this Princess; and to sum up the total of his misery, he saw more joy in the face of Cyrus then in the face of Mandana, conjecturing from thence, and truly, that he had been very favourably received, and in an instant did imagine a thousand favours done unto Cyrus, more than he himself could have wished to himself. This thought so disordered his soul, that love, jealousy, rage and despair depriving him of reason, he violently broke down the little Window which did hide him from sight; but as good luck to him was, he was so weak, that as he pulled the Window away, he fell backward upon his bed; so that his wound opening and beginning to bleed afresh, he was not able to rise again, yet he endeavoured, though the Soldier did very respectfully hinder him, knowing that if he now looked out of the Window, he would certainly be known. In the mean while, his sorrows caused by such a violent agitation of spirits, did cast him into a sound for above a quarter of an hour, and when he returned out of it, his despair was no better than madness. Thus the renowned Cyrus had four Rivals nothing so happy as himself; but though the state of their fortunes was very different, yet had they a conformity in their sorrows.  
The King of Assiria a Prisoner, and forced to ask succour from his Rival, he thought himself the most miserable Prince alive; The King of Poutus vanquished, wounded, and lurking in a poor Cabin, thought never any so unfortunate as himself; The Prince Mazares, who would needs have his virtue triumph over his Passion, and who yet saw himself every minute ready to be overcome by his Love, he was persuaded that none could suffer more than himself: And Anaxaris, in love without one spark of hope, and yet resolved to love Mandana till he died, come what could, considering the state of his soul, and the state of his fortune, he could not conceive it possible any should be so miserable as himself. Thus whilst Cyrus and Mandana were rendering thanks unto the Gods for their happy conditions, the King of Pontus, Mazares, and Anaxaris, had much ado to forbear murmuring against the Gods, for exposing them unto such disastrous and fatal destinies; yet the misfortunes of these three Rivals did not hinder the universal joy that was in both Town and Camp: But to be short, at their return from the Temple, Cyrus after he had taken orders from Mandana, sent unto Pactias and Licambes to acquaint them with the state of things, and to induce them to lay down arms: He sent also to the Xantheans, and Caunians, to confirm the offers which they made: He sent dispatches also unto Ciaxares and Cambyses: The Princess writing unto the King her Father to thank him for his cares in procuring her liberty, and unto the Queen of Persia also, to testify her obligations unto the Prince her Son. After this, was to be seen (according to the orders which Cyrus sent over night) the two Fleets of Thrasibulus and Timochares, enter into the Port of Cumes, and as they passed in sight of Mandana's Chamber, where Cyrus then was, the Flags of all the Fleets vailed Bonnet, in honour of that Princess. As soon as Thrasibulus, Timochares, Philocles and Leontidas came ashore, they came also to salute Mandana, unto whom Cyrus presented them: You see here Madam (said he and spoke of Thrasibulus) a Prince who was my Conqueror, and whose valour did exceedingly help me to finish the Armenian War: In telling me (replied Mandana) that the Prince Thrasibulus hath conquered the Conqueror of others, you oblige me to esteem him infinitely: The victory I got Madam (replied Thrasibulus) did cost me so dear; and the defeat of the illustrious Artamenes was so glorious unto him, that if I might have chosen, I had rather have been the conquered then the Conqueror.  
As Cyrus was ready to reply, and vie modesty with him, the King of Hyrcania, the Prince Artamas, Gadates, Gobrias, Persodes; and many others of Noble Quality, came into Mandana's Chamber, who entertained them with as much sweetness as Majesty. Croessus and Myrsiles came a little after; the first of these ask pardon for protecting the King of Pontus, beseeching her not to be less generous than Ciaxares and Cyrus had been: To testify unto you (said she unto him) that I will not yield unto them in that virtue, I assure you, I am much joyed at the alliance which you have made, with such a renowned Prince as the Prince Artamas, who hearing what Mandana said of him, returned a most ingenious and civil answer.  
But since such kind of visits as these, never use to be long, this crowd of renowned persons did soon disperse themselves: Cyrus also was obliged to go out of her Chamber into his own, to receive two Deputies from Susiana, which Orsanus sent unto him: So that Mandana in this interval talked with Chrisantes and Feraulas, unto whom she had not yet spoken; therefore she went into her Closet, whether Martesia brought them. Now was the glory of Cyrus aggravated with much zeal, by these two faithful servants unto their Master, and she did much better understand from them then from him, how much she was obliged unto him. In the mean while, Cyrus being come to his Chamber, whether Mazares and Hermogenes also resorted to hear some news of Belesis, he received the Deputies which Orsanus sent. He understood from them, that all the Grandees in the Kingdom of Susiana no sooner saw the Testament of Abradates, who gave him his Crown; but all were joyfully disposed to become his Subjects, and acknowledge him for their King: That the people did submit unto it with abundance of satisfaction, that Belesis had done him very good service in this business, that Adusia's according to his order stayed at Susa, to command in that Kingdom, until he himself could honour that state with his presence; that all things were there very quiet, that both Grandees and People had taken oaths of fidelity to him, and that he was absolutely King of Susiana. These men having ended their speech, Cyrus did treat them as men who brought him a Crown, and began to transact with them, as with good and faithful Subjects. Then appointing them to be lodged in the Town, he dismissed them, keeping Orsanus with him, purposely to tell him some news of Belesis, whom he infinitely esteemed, knowing that he did ever confirm Mazares in those resolutions of virtue, which he had planted in his soul, seeing then there was none but Mazares and Hermogenes near him: Well Orsanus (said he unto him) hath the voyage of Belesis been as happy for himself, as it hath been for me? Will Cleodora acknowledge him for her Slave with as good a will as the People of Susa are to acknowledge me for their King? Sir (replied Orsanus it is not so: Why (said Mazares and interrupted him) had Cleodora accomplished her last vows which the women consecrated unto Ceres' use, when Belesis came unto Susa? No Sir, (replied Orsanus) we came thither some days before she was to perform them: I pray, said Cyrus, relate unto us the business.  
Hermogenes understanding by the discourse of Orsanus, that Belesis did not thrive in his affection to Cleodora, his curiosity augmented, and his sorrows diminished, for his belief was that Belesis was gone to take possession of her; so that he lent a most attentive ear unto what Orsanus said: Since you are pleased to command me Sir, (said Orsanus unto Cyrus) to acquaint you with the adventure of Belesis, be pleased to know Sir, that when he came to S●sa, he presently enquired whether Cleodora had power to come out of the Temple unto which she was retired, and whether it was believed she would remain there? He understood that the last ceremony which was to bind her for ever, was not to be performed of a month after; that the general opinion was, she would remain there, because she might live a retired life there, every one telling her, that she was none of those, who in lieu of seeking out a solitude amongst the veiled Virgins, and preserving their innocence, would trouble the first, and lose the second; and so dishonour them in lieu of adding glory.  
Yet Belesis was not very much grieved at the thought that Cleodora would remain in the Temple, because he hoped she might change her mind; so that not to omit any tittle of his duty in matter of love, he writ unto Cleodora, and gave his Letter unto Alcenor to carry, soliciting her also by many friends for leave to see and speak with her. But whilst Alcenor and the Ladies his friends were negotiating for him, he took order for all things which related unto your services; and in the mean while he understood that Cleodora refused his Letter; that she would not see him, that she obtained leave to shorten the time of the last ceremony, and that it was to be accomplished the next day: You may judge Sir, what sad news this was unto Belesis, who no sooner heard it, but he went unto the Temple of Ceres, and so tampered with her who had power to command Cleodora, that she commanded her to see and speak with Belesis, an hour before she was to engage all the rest of her life. Belesis then saw her, and spoke to her, but never saw her so fair and lovely as then, nor never more inexorable unto his prayers; and to render him the more unhappy, she confessed unto him, that she was induced unto this course which she was going to take, only because she was so weak, as not to hate him if she would; and indeed she spoke this unto him in such a manner, as it was easy to see, she did not hate him still, and that what she did, was rather out of a punctileo of honour, which moved her never to pardon Belesis, then out of any hatred she had unto him. I shall not need to tell you Sir what this unfortunate Lover said unto Cleodora: For since you know the nature of Belesis was to be zealous and passionate, and knowing what his mind and affection was, you may easily imagine that he used all the most moving expressions that was possible, and all to no purpose, for this fair one was unalterable, maugre all the sorrow she saw in his face, and very well it may be said, that the sorrows of Belesis did make her joyful, for the more earnest he was in praying her, the more easily did she deny him. To be short Sir, this fair one retired, and maugre all the importunate desires of Belesis the ceremony was accomplished, and Belesis lost Cleodora for ever; for since that she would not see any, no not her dearest friends: So that Cleodora who was wont to be the only lover of news, did not now know whether Asia was in War or in peace; and this excellent woman did very sufficiently make it appear, that she could be Mistress of herself when she pleased. In the mean time, the despair of Belesis did so appear in his face, and in all his actions, as every one feared he would steal away from Alcenor as soon as he could, and return unto his Desert, and so deprive Susa of the most accomplished man in it.  
Whilst Orsanus was speaking thus, Cyrus and Mazares did interest themselves in the sorrows of Belesis: But as for Hermogenes, all the affection he bore him as his friend, could not keep him from rejoicing, that he was never like to enjoy Cleodora; yet he did what he could to hide a thought which had more love than generosity in it; and he might the more easily hide it, because Cyrus, who was not able to live without Mandana, did in all hast give orders that the Works should be thrown down, that the Forts should be demolished, and that the Army should still keep in a posture ready to receive an Enemy, not daring to think of carrying Mandana out of Cumes, until he heard the Enemy's Army was dispersed, because he would not hazard a person who was so infinitely dear unto him. After than he had given all the prudential orders requisite, he returned to the Princess Mandana, where all the Ladies of Quality in that Town were come to make their first visit. Since the Princess spoke the Greek Tongue very fluently, and the language of Cumes differed from it only in pronunciation; it was as easy for her to charm so many Beauties by the sweetness of her conversation, as to charm their eyes by her Beauty; and since she knew that commendations are very well received by all the world, especially when they proceed from a person of much merit, Mandana did extremely commend every Lady in whom she could find any good ground for it; She also did double her applauds when Cyrus came in; for beginning to speak as soon as he was set down, Though I know very well (said she unto him) that Artaxates, Babylon, and Sardis, are for greater Towns than Cumes; yet I assure you, the conquest of this was more glorious then of them, since I do not think you ever took any Town wherein there are so many Beauties as in this: There are so many reason's Madam, replied Cyrus, Why you should know a Beauty better than any else, that though my eyes did not tell me you had reason for what you said, yet I should believe you: However, (added he, and turned towards those Ladies whom Mandana commended) you may well value at a high rate, the commendations of a Princess, who is used every day to see the fairest person in the world: Mandana blushed at the discourse of Cyrus, but could not answer it; for one of the Ladies, whose name was Atalia, began to speak: If the commendations of the Princess (said she) were addressed unto me, or that I had any reason to apply them unto myself, doubtless I should think myself the most glorious woman in the world, for being commended by one, who every day in her mirror sees enough to make her scorn the greatest Beauties upon Earth. You know very well, amiable Atalia, (replied Mandana) what share you ought to take unto yourself of those commendations which I give unto the Ladies of Cumes in general; and I know also what share I ought to take in those you give unto me; however, without putting you to the blush by any particular applauds, I pray agree with me, that there are few places in the world where are to be found so many beauties as here; and certainly, Mandana had good reason for what she said, since there were in Cumes at that time a most prodigious number of Beauties. Amongst all those who were then with Mandana, there were four of the best quality in all the Town, and highest beauty: Atalia was tall, and of a handsome Mine, she had brown hair, eyes grey and sweet, her complexion whitish and lively, seeming always very serious: The second, whose name was Cleocrite, was fair and lively, yet her eyes black and sparkling with a sprightly fire: her looks though sweet, yet nothing of passionate, but it was easy to see she loved to look upon herself in a glass, and loved herself better than all the world besides. Cleocrite was of a good stature, she had most handsome teeth, and fresh roses upon her lips: her nose was of an exact proportion, and all the features of her face pleasing: she had an aspect of joy and tranquillity in her Physiognomy, which was a great addition to her beauty: so that without any flattery I can assure you, Cleocrice was a high beauty, and had been infinitely amiable had she known how to have loved any.  
The third whose name was Lysidice, was of a low stature, but a high beauty, and infinitely charming: her neck was white, her arms and hands the same: her eyes fair, her complexion rare, and her mouth admirable: She had a kind of austerity and pride in the corner of her eye, and in the corner of her mouth, which though it was very sweet, and did much contribute unto her beauty, which though it expressed some inequality in her humour, yet did exceedingly become her. The fourth who was called Philoxene, and was a widow, was of a stature something above the common height but very handsome, her hair, was chestnut colour: the model of her face was something on all, her complexion whitish and smother nose was something Aqueline, but well proportioned, her eyes full, black, sweet and smiling; her Physiognomy was noble and pleasing, which did as well speak the sweetness and equality of her humour, as the tenderness and generosity of her soul; and which did invite abundance of esteem, and forced a disposition to love her: These four persons being such as I have described, and being mingled amongst many others who had beauty enough, it was not without good cause that Mandana commended them: Not long after she had as good cause to commend the sweetness of their minds as well as the charms of their faces: for they all made it appear, that if Cyrus had been able to have endured that any should have shared with him in the society of his Princess, he had not stifled his desires as he did of talking with her in private, yet he did so hide it, as none of the Ladiees could perceive him: and Mandana only could know that as amiable as these Ladies were, yet he desired that they were absent from her, yet it was a long while before he could be in private with her; for besides those Ladies that were already with Mandana, there came another under the conduct of Araxaris, who though she was well in years, yet was a Lady of a very handsome carriage, and seemed to be a woman of quality. Araxaris in presenting her unto Mandana, told her name to be Niside, and said her quality to be the most considerable in all Cumes. After which, this Lady beginning to speak, Since I know Madam, said she unto the Princess Mandana, what power you have with the Illustrious Cyrus, I conceived it my best course to address myself unto you, for the obtaining of my Son's liberty, who is now his prisoner, who as the Fate of Arms would have it, did take prisoner the Generous Anaxaris who presents me unto you. I should not have been so bold Madam, as to ask liberty for a man who took him prisoner that did so courageously fight for yours, if the same Anaxaris had not made me a most generous promise to join his prayers with mine to obtain of you, that the same men who once took him captive, but at present is his, may enjoy the general act of grace with the invincible Cyrus, at your desires Madam did grant unto the meanest inhabitants of Cumes.  
For my part (added Anazaris) I assure you Madam, (said he unto the Princess Mandana) that you will extremely oblige me if you would grant my Conqueror his liberty: and I am the more obliged to serve him, because if I had not fallen unto his power, I should not have had the glory to have done that little service for you Madam, which I did: so that Madam, to recompense me fully, It beseech you, let Thrasiles be at liberty: and I am confident, that he is a man of so much merit, as if you had known him, he had been at liberty ere now. Certainly it is not at all necessary to make any addresses unto me, (replied Mandana, and spoke unto Niside and Anaxaris) to obtain a favour from the Illustrious Cyrus, which he doth so usually grant: And less necessary Madam (said Cyrus, and interrupted her) to use my name in a business which depends absolutely upon yourself: However, replied that Princess, I will entreat you to set Thrasyles at liberty upon my request. Thrasyles, replied Cyrus, is more a prisoner unto Anaxaris then unto me, but I believe he will confess with me, that you have power to set at liberty whom you please: therefore Madam you need only to command, and be obeyed. What ere you say (replied Mandana) I intent that Niside shall be no more a debtor unto you for the liberty of Thrasyles, then unto me. To end this generous contest, replied this Lady, my Son and I will both be equally debtors unto you both, and will both of us make our acknowledgements as if we were obliged unto one and the same person. I beseech you Madam (said Anaxaris unto Mandana) Command then that Thrasyles be set at liberty? Since it is the pleasure of the Illustrious Cyrus, and since you have a peculiar right to consent unto it (replied he) you will do me a pleasure to go and set upon his prison, and to let the first use of his liberty be employed in making me acquainted with a man who is so valiant as to make you his prisoner. Most certainly he is a very brave man (replied Cyrus not suspecting that Anaxar●s was his Rival) who is the Vanquisher of Anaxaris. Anaxaris who in his heart resented more disorder than he was well able to master when he heard himself commended both by his Rival, and by Mandana, did seem as if he heard them not: but did say something unto Niside, who being very glad of her Son's liberty, took that pretence to go our, and set open her son's prison, and acquaint him how much he was a debtor unto this Princess. For Madam (said Niside to her) I know Thrasiles hath so strong an inclination to acknowledge a benefit, that he would exceedingly complain against me, if I should not acquaint him with his obligements to you, before he hath the honour to see you. After this Niside retired, and went with Anaxaris unto the Tower where Thrasiles was: As soon as she was gone, there was not one of those Ladies who desired not to be gone also, having no mind to be in that place, when Thrasiles entered: But the Princess Mandana not thinking they had any interest in the Prisoner, addressing her discourse unto them, she did engage them to stay. Since valour is ever accompanied with all necessary qualities to make a complete man, said Mandana unto Lysidice, I would gladly know whether Thrasiles have as much wit as courage. Since those who can judge of wit in others (replied Lysi●ice) had need to have much themselves, doubtless I am not fit to be a competent Judge in such a matter. The fair Cleocrite who hath it in a superlative degree, and who besides that, hath all the indifferency desirable in an impartial Judge, is better able to tell you then I am. This indifference you speak of (replied Cleocrit●, and smiled) and which you think so good a quality in an impartial Judge, may cause me to do a piece of injustice: for I do not sufficiently know him, and therefore if the Princess would have an exact account of Thrasiles, she much have it from Atalia, or from Philox●ne: for the one is his ancient friend, and the other is his newest acquaintance: According to your own words, replied Atalia, It is so long since I knew Thrasiles, that I have almost forgot him: And for my particular added Philoxene, I do so little know him in comparison of you, that I may well say I do not know him at all. For my part (said Cyrus, and smiled, (addressing himself unto Mandana) by seeing so many beauties so sweetly deny being Judges of Thrasiles wit, I do believe him to have very much: and I am apt to believe that these Ladies do think more than they speak. The discourse of Cyrus did put Atalia, Lysidice, and Philoxone to the blush: but as for the indifferent Cleocrite, she never changed colour for it, yet those three Ladies blushed more, for as soon as Cyrus had spoken that which made them blush, Anaxaris returned and Thrasiles followed, who entered with so good a grace, and seemed to be a man of so good behaviour, and of such a noble and gallant Air, that as soon as Cyrus and Mandana saw him, they had a good disposition to believe that those Ladies who had no mind to commend him, did esteem him much more than they would speak of. In the mean time, Thrasiles spoke so well, so reverently, and so pathetically both unto Mandana, and unto Cyrus, that they esteemed him as much for his wit as his courage. It is most generous and nobly done Madam, (said he to the Princess Mandana) to give liberty unto a man who endeavoured all he could to hinder yours. Though his zeal unto the Prince of Cumes, and unto his Country, was his only motive to fight against you. Since you have done nothing but what honour did oblige you unto, replied Mandana, I do not think any thing you have done against me ought to keep me from my dictates of Generosity: and doubtless it is upon the same reason that the Illustrious Cyrus doth so easily and with so good a will grant me your liberty. Since I know Madam (replied Thrasiles) Lyside would have me wholly obliged unto you, I dare not in your presence express my gratitude unto him, though it be infinite. No no, replied Cyrus, you ought not to give me that which I ought to have no share in. In all places where the Princess Mandana is present, she is the Authoress of all good, and she deserves the disposing of all favours, and therefore unto her from whom you received a benefit is your gratitude due. Whilst Mandana, Cyrus, and Thrasiles were talking, Atalia, Lysidice, and Cleocrite, and Philoxene looked on, and looked often upon Thr●siles, who for his part, was not attentive to what he said, or to what he heard, as he was to observe Philoxene, and to observe whether Atalia, Cleocrite, and Lysidice observed him. But Anaxaris perceived it not, for he was so wholly taken up with the sight of Mandana and Cyrus, as he thought upon nothing but his own passion, and never minded others.  
But the most observable passage of this day was, that this company who was then with Mandana, and stayed very long, was composed of persons who had no mind to be there; for Philoxene wished she had not been there, Lysidice was extremely perplexed at her being there, Atalia was vexed at her presence, and Cleocrite as neutral and indifferent as she was, had rather have been any where else: As for Thrasiles, he was much nonplussed at his being amongst four Ladies, with whom he had held various correspondencies; and as for Anaxaris, though the sight of Mandana was the essential part of his life, yet he cared not for being there, since he could not be rid of his Rival, so that except Cyrus, all in the Chamber desired to be out: 'Tis true, this Prince was as restless as the rest, for though he had no mind to be from Mandana, yet he wished with all his heart that none else were with her, yet they stayed a long while: But at last Atalia, Cleocrite, Philoxene, and Lysidice being gone, Mandana asked Thrasiles, whether these Ladies were his friends, and whether he much esteemed them? But ask what she would, he was as much reserved in his speeches of them, as they were to talk of him, yet he commended them more than they commended him, but yet it was after such a manner, as was apparent that he was zealous in the commendations of none but Philoxene. After some other indifferent discourse, the rest of the company parted also. But just as Cyrus was ready to fall in talk with Mandana, Anaxaris brought in an Inhabitant of Cumes, who had a Letter unto the Princess from the King of Pontus. Mandana no sooner looked upon it, but she knew it to be his hand; so that giving it unto Cyrus to read: Will you spare me the pains (said she unto him) of reading this Letter, which I believe will but anger me: I will obey your commands Madam in all things, replied he) though it be no pleasing office to read a Letter from a Rival; lest in lieu of anger, it should invite you unto pity; after which, Cyrus opened the Letter, and found these words.  
The most unfortunate of all men living unto the Princess MANDANA.  
MADAM,  
SInce revenge is the sweetest thing in the world, I thought it my duty to let you know, that though I can give you no other satisfaction in my life, yet I can acquaint you, that never any was so fully revenged as you are; for truly Madam I suffer more than ever any did; I suffer without any hope; and which is the greatest of my misfortunes, I suffer without your pity: And I resolved to let you know my sorrows, that I might thereby force you to pity an Enemy, who now hath no power to hurt you: Imagine Madam, what sadness of soul it is, after I have lost two Kingdoms, after I have ruined Croessus and the Prince of Cumes; after I have so long loved you without any hope but to hinder my Rival from being happy, what horror I say it is to see him the most happy and most glorious of all men, and to lose my very hopes of ever seeing you again, I am gone away Madam the most unfortunate Prince that ever was in the world, the most desperate Lover that ever was or ever will be, and the most miserable man that ever lived: Since I ●o almost alone to seek my death in the same element, in which I had the happiness to save your life, and since in all prohabilitie my end will have no witnesses, I had a desire to let you know, that mangre your insensibility towards me, and in spite of all those miseries into which my passion hath precipitated me, I shall still die your adorer, and can never repent of my adoring you, though that be the only cause of all my misfortunes. This Madam is the Passion which you have scorned, and these shall be my thoughts of you, when the excess of my sorrows shall end my life; believe therefore I conjure you, that you, you only shall be my last thought; and that when I expire, my last gasp will be a gasp of love, and happy enough shall I think myself, if after my death you shall only say, I was worthy of a more favourable Fate.  
When Cyrus had read this Letter, he looked upon Mandana and said, Doubtless I have good reason to fear Madam, that the King of Pontus his Letter will move your heart more unto pity then anger, for though he be my Rival, yet I profess I cannot read it without compassion: Since pity is natural unto persons of Heroic generosity, replied the Princess, I wonder not your soul should be sensible of it: But since I will not pity a Prince who had none of me, I will take all occasions of it from myself; therefore (said she, taking the Letter and tearing it in pieces) I will not read it, lest it should incline me to pity, as it doth you: I know not Madam (said Cyrus then and smiled) whether your fears of being pitiful should cause some sparks of jealousy in a Lover, whose temper is to be jealous: Nor do I know (said she and smiled also) whether your compassion of him would not move any other than myself to accuse you of want of affection: Oh Madam, replied Cyrus, that accusation would have a very bad foundation; It may be as well grounded as the other, replied she: Then I had rather confess unto you Madam, replied Cyrus, that they are both of them built upon a bad foundation, then to dispute it with you.  
After this, these two illustrious persons did both of them agree, that this unfortunate Prince deserved pity; they also understood the same day, in what place he had been hid; and as soon as the Port of Cumes was open, he got out in the night as weak and wounded as he was, in a Fisher's Boat, without any with him but the man who rowed the Boat, who was the same Soldier, who went out of the Castle with this unfortunate Prince: So that this news did cause both Mandana and Cyrus, much more to pity a King who had saved both their lives, for it was he who advertised Artamenes of the conspiracy amongst the forty Caveliers who should have killed him; and it was he also who saved Mandana from drowning, after she had suffered Shipwreck; therefore since they could do no less for him who had saved their lives, they pitied him in his misery, though he himself was the only cause of it. The next morning they understood that Pactias and Lycambes had laid down their Arms; but Pactias having no mind to come into an Army where Croessus was; whom he had betrayed, he embarked for Mytilene, and that meeting by chance with Harpagus, who durst not look Cyrus in the face, after his being the loss of that Army which he commanded, they both contracted friendship, and chose the same place for their exile. So that Cyrus seeing no Enemy to fight with, and that the field was clear, his thoughts were all how to get Mandana out of Cumes, and to advance towards Medea, though he had promised the King of Assiria not to marry that Princess until he had fought with him, and though Ciaxares had in a manner consented unto it, and though he was fully resolved to keep promise with him, yet he knew not how to acquaint Mandana with the ill news of it; yet he conceived it a kind of blemish unto his honour to go unto Ecbatan before he had fought with that Prince, since he knew he would not go thither; but the way being long between Cumes and that Town, and since the Princess could not go fast, he hoped that before he got thither the King of Assiria would be released, either by ransom, or by force. So that still entertaining his first raptures of joy, he rejected all angry thoughts whatsoever, and commanded Chrisantes and Feraulas not to mention a word unto Mandana of his intended combat with the King of Assiria. Thus minding only how that Princess should arrive triumphantly into Ecbatan, he gave all requisite orders for the regulating her house, and that her equipage should be magnificent. Now was the time, when the Soldiers which Anaxaris had suborned, and which made him Master of the Castle, did demand in recompense which they had done, to have the glory of being a Guard unto that Princess, which was granted unto them: But the greatest wonder unto Cyrus, was to see Anaxaris, who had refused very considerable employments in the Army, should only desire to be Captain of the Guards unto the Princess; until now, Cyrus thought Anaxaris to be of some very extraordinary high Quality; but seeing now, how he confined his ambition unto so low a sphere, he thought he refused all higher employments out of his modesty, and desired only such employment as was suitable unto his birth: So that consenting unto it with all joy, Anaxaris became Captain of the Guard unto that Princess whom he loved, and was in that office with the approbation both of his Rival and his Mistress, who being ignorant of the passion in his soul, expressed a thousand testimonies of amity unto him. But whilst all things were in preparation for Mandana's departure, all the Ladies in Cumes resorted unto her, and did strive how to divert her; amongst the rest, Cleocrite, Italia, Philoxene, and Lysi●ice were very assiduous. Thrasiles also was often with her, where also all the men of any Quality and wit about Cyrus were present. As for that Prince, this press of company was often troublesome unto him, and the better to colour his vexation, he was often constrained to go out of her Chamber, and to comfort himself, would go into Martesia's, and talk with her of Mandana: But as he was one day with her, and making her repeat many passages which he knew before, one came to tell him the Princess would speak with him; Cleocrite, Lydisie, Atalia, and another Lady called Lyriana and Thrasiles were with her. As soon as he came into the Princess Chamber, I beseech you Sir, said she unto him, do not employ yourself only in being the Arbitrator of Asia, in ordering the interests of Kings and Princes, and in taking and giving of Crowns and Sceptres, but I beseech you be a Judge in a difference wherein ambition hath no share, and in which I do confess I dare not take upon me so much boldness, as to give a definitive sentence: I do not think myself more knowing in any thing than you are Madam, replied Cyrus, and I hope you do not think me so presumptuous, as to imagine my light of reason or knowledge to be above yours. Since I must suit my words according unto your modesty, replied she, I must tell you there are many things which very handsomeness requires that you should know better than I do; for example, in all the terms and phrases in the Art of War, were it handsome in me to express them so well as you? or were it not a shame for you to speak of such things so simply as myself? Truly in some things one of my Sex ought not to express so much perhaps as she doth know, for a kind of voluntary ignorance doth well become us: You know (pursued she, and would not give Cyrus' time to interrupt her) that Cleocrite, Atalia, and Lysidice, who would not speak any thing concerning Thrasiles, when Anaxaris asked his liberty, do now all speak unto me of him, and after they had told me a thousand of his good qualities, do describe him to be the most unconstant man alive. But as they were speaking to me of these things, Thrasiles entered, and peremptorily maintained, that he was as faithful as any man living, but the thing which most puzzles me is, he confesseth withal, that he hath successively one after another loved Atalia, Cleocrite, Lysidice, and some others, and that at this time he is in love with Philoxene; How Thrasiles (said Cyrus) so many several loves, and yet faithful? Is it possible you can maintain, that you do not merit the name of unconstant? Sir, replied Thrasiles, To know rightly what I am, it is requisite you knew my life, to know perfectly all those whom I have loved, and that you take so much pains as narrowly to examine what constancy and what inconstancy is? for I am fully persuaded; that one may love many, and not be at all perfidious, nor deserve the name of inconstant: For truly Sir, I conceive, that though the King of Assiria and the King of Pontus should now quit that passion which hath so tormented them, yet they could not be charged with inconstancy, but rather on the contrary, deserve to be commended for overcoming themselves, since all reason in the world requires it; therefore it must be granted, that in some cases one may cease to love, without any brand of infidelity, and begin to love in another place; without deserving the title of inconstant; and I think that in some cases, I may very well say, it is rather obstinacy than constancy in those who continue loving where they are certain never to be loved: So that in my opinion such men in lieu of a virtue, have a vice, which they thought not of: If it be a vice (replied Cleocrite and laughed) I assure you, that you can never be suspected of it, nor be accused for being too obstinate in your love: No (added Lysidice, but in exchange he may well be charged with inconstancy. The word obstinate doth so little suit with an inconstant man, said at all a, that I cannot consent it should ever be applied unto Thrasiles, who considering the number of his several Loves, is the most unconstant man living: For my part (said Lyriana, who had not spoke yet) I must confess, that I cannot absolutely condemn him, and I think that without manifest injustice, he cannot be charged in reason with inconstancy, though he have loved many persons: It is very generously done (replied Cyrus) to undertake the defence of Thrasiles, who is assaulted by three such terrible Enemies: Lyriana (replied Thrasiles) doth so perfectly know my reason, why I cease from loving, that she cannot accuse me as these do, who accuse me because they do not know themselves. Moreover Sir, since there are some reasons which may induce one to cease loving without any charge of inconstancy, I hope generosity will move you to presuppose that I have some such reasons which induce me unto it, and not to look upon me as a perfidious man; For indeed Sir, I am of this belief, that that which may rightly be termed inconstancy, is a certain disgust, and a kind of weariness in spirits, which causeth the very same things that once pleased, not to please any longer, though they be the very same things they were before, and which takes novelty to be an inevitable charm: So that by this means the love of an inconstant person doth slack, and cool, and die, without any cause but what is in itself: So that because there is in the heart of such a one a kind of natural levity, he cannot love the same person any longer, be she never so accomplished, or be he never so well treated; but for my part. I can assure you without any dissimulation, that if the first person I loved had been found to be such a one as I phancied her to be, I should never have loved those who upbraid me with inconstancy. It seems (said Cleocrite then) that Thrasiles hath found some horrid faults in all the persons he hath loved: For my part, said Lyside, that since Thrasiles hath spoken thus before the Princess, it will much concern our honours, that he declare before the Princess his reasons for quitting us. I believe (said Atalia then) that a relation from his mouth will not be very advantageous to us.  
If you will, replied Lyriana, and if the Princess desire to know it, I will make a very exact and impartial relation of all the passages which have befalled Thrasiles. You would do me a great pleasure in it, replied Mandana: I assure you, said Cyrus and laughed, you will undertake a very difficult task, to persuade me that Thrasiles could love, and quit three such Beauties as these, and not deserve the title of inconstant. Lyriana hath ever been so much the friend of Thrasiles, (said Lysidice) as I can hardly consent that it should be she who should relate the story unto the Princess. For my part, said Cleocrite, I am so confident that Lyriana cannot speak any thing to my disadvantage, as I value not whether or no she be more a friend unto Thrasiles, than she is unto me. To testify, said Lyriana, that I intent to speak nothing but impartial truth, I am willing that you all be present at my relation, and that you correct me if I utter any untruth. For my part (said Lysidice) though Thrasiles were the most unconstant of all men, yet I had rather acknowledge him constant, then to be a hearer of all those follies which have passed betwixt us. That the relation may be more equal, replied Thrasiles, It is requisite that none of the persons interested be present, and that Lyriana be alone with the Princess. Lysidice, who till then could hardly consent, that Lyriana should relate any business wherein she was concerned, was the first who according to the inequality of her humour, consented that Lyriana should be alone with Mandana: And so the thing being resolved upon, Thrasiles went with Cleocrite, Lysidice and Atalia into another chamber where Martesia was: and Lyriana prepared herself to relate the various loves of Thrasiles: after which, he was to be declared either an inconstant man, or else confirmed in his pretence to be a most faithful lover. But though Lyriana intended to speak before none but the Princess Mandana, and before Cyrus, yet she had more Auditors: for the Prince Artamas being entered with Aglatidas, Cyrus said that they who were the most faithful Lovers in the world, were very fit to be judges in the business: so that every one taking their places, Lyriana addressing her discourse unto Mandana, she began thus.  

The History of THRASILES.  
SInce Truth, Madam, ought always to be inseparable from the words of them who undertake to relate any thing; doubtless I shall be induced in the sequel of my discourse not to make an equal commendations of all those persons of whom I am to speak, though otherwise they be infinitely laudable: Therefore, I beseech you Madam, do not think that to justify Thrasiles, I will unjustly accuse Cleocrite, Lysidice, or Atalia: since certainly I will tell you nothing which I will not make them confess, & which is not known unto all of any quality in Cumes. I will not stay you Madam, with a relation how Thrasiles is of a very noble extraction: how he hath upon many occasions made himself Signal i● war, and how he hath abundance of wit: But give me leave to tell you, Madam, that never man had a more passionate soul than Thrasiles hath: for that passion of love is so predominate in him, as he cannot live and not love: but to manifest it unto you, that he is not of the same temper which unconstants are, I must let you know that all the loves which he hath professed, were not bare Gallantries and Courtships, but they were zealous and violent, as well as tender and passionate: And it is my opinion, that if Thrasiles had been so happy to love the first time, one who had in some sort answered his affection, I am most confident he would never have loved any but her, and would have loved her until death. And to let you see, he is capable of constancy, you may judge of his love by his friendship; for he had a friend called Egesipes, whom he constantly loved from his very cradle: yet the odness of his destiny was such as that he hath loved many, as I shall tell you. Be pleased to know Madam, that as soon as Thrasiles was out of his Tutorship, and began to make visits of his own head, he fell as much in love as the age at which he was would permit him. But since you know, young men who first enter into the world, are not always treated so well as those who have been longer in it, unless by women who never use to repulse any, and such who would have slaves of all sorts: so Thrasiles, though very handsome and of much spirit, did not then meet with an equal civility amongst those Ladies who had the greatest reputation of beauty, and he easily observed, that they made some difference between men of his form and age, and others who were elder than himself: So that since it was glorious for him, he did not fall in Love with such as would not treat him as a man of power to become their Lover; but he fell desperately in love with a Lady, who being of such an humour as I spoke of before, was beyond all measure civil unto him, omitting none of those fond fooleries (which women who make it their professions use) to enslave the poor Thrasiles: The small experience he had in the world, suffered him to be extremely joyed at his good usage, and to see that this Lady treated him as if he were the most accomplished man in all the Court: When he made a visit any where else, he sat upon thorns and stayed not; for as it is usual unto such green men, they either talked not at all to him, or else talking something that angered him; so that he hath often protested unto me, that he hath been extremely troubled at it, when they either spoke low in his presence, or else spoke only of his exercises, or of his Parents, and so would leave him.  
I leave you to judge Madam, what sweetness he found in those places where he found different usage, where he was talked unto as others were, and where a hundred trifles were imparted to him; and he loved this Lady as desperately as ever any did, and he loved her so much, that for almost six month's time, he thought himself the happiest man in the world, in being respected by a Lady who really had both beauty and wit, but who was the veriest cheat, and the veriest Weathercock that ever was, for she would write Letters of Gallantry unto a thousand several Gallants, she would let all in Cumes love her, and desired to be loved of all the world, she would put all that ever loved her in hopes, and yet jeer●●d at all without exception: I think Madam you will not at all wonder that Thrasiles being very young should be taken with her, and that you will wonder less he should leave her, when he discovered her cheats and fooleries, and when he knew she loved him no better than she did a thousand of his Rivals; if to justify the change of Thrasiles, it were requisite to give you a Catalogue of her tricks, I could tell you, that he met with many of her Letters, that he understood she showed his unto all his Rivals, that she would jeer with them at his passion, and with him at theirs, that she would often send him word he could not see her, whilst she was talking with others in private, and that indeed she was the weakest, and most foolish person of her Sex. I leave you to judge Madam, whether Thrasiles was able to continue loving her, and whether his change could be called inconstancy: I will not further aggravate the matter, since for the justification of Thrasiles, it is enough to say, that I conceive he would have been extremely to blame, had he persisted loving such a contemptible woman after he knew her: However, since the amorous inclination of his heart would not let him live long without loving some or other, after his return out of the Country, and after he had broke off with his first Mistress, he laid siege to a second: But since now Thrasiles began to be reputed one of the compleatest Gallants in all over Court, he was looked upon in a different manner from what he was at his first entrance into the world, since there was not a woman of any quality who thought it not a glory to have some share in his esteem, and his choice was not bad in fixing upon Atalia, for the object of his second passion, for as you see her a Lady of much beauty and wit, so she is Mistress of much generosity, goodness, and freedom. Thrasiles then finding her infinitely amiable, did infinitely love her, and he loved her the more, because he found her of an humour different from her whom now he slighted; for indeed Atalia affected neither gallants nor gallantry, she rather shunned the tumult of the world, than Courted it, she was handsome without any affectation, and of a sweet, easy, and agreeable conversation, though of a little serious temper: So that finding a thousand good qualities in her, opposite unto those ill ones which he scorned in her he had quitted, he applied himself unto her service, and that very violently, continuing a long time in doing all that love useth to incite the greatest Gallants to do, for indeed he made her many magnificent Feasts; and his love to her was not only violent, but it was also apparent, and made a great noise in the world: He seeing that maugre all his endeavours, Atalia did not answer his passion, but on the contrary, did slight it as much as in civility she could, yet he perceived that it was not out of any aversion or scorn, and that he had a share in her esteem, though not in her affection; so that he still applied himself to her service with all imagineable exactness, and he was so obstinately devoted unto it, that this Lady who did really esteem him, and who feared lest her Parents should force her to marry a man whom they highly esteem, resolved to tell him the reason why she would not answer his affection. One day when he was alone with her, and when he had a desire to speak of his passion to her, and to beseech her she would not scorn his affection, she imposed silence upon him, and acquainted him with as much sincerity as sweetness, with the true cause of her coldness to him: Since I do intend (said she unto him) to give you very ample testimony of my esteem, I do conjure you to let me acquaint you with a business which will anger you the most of any thing in the world, if what you have told me be true, and that you love me as well as you would make me believe, for truly Thrasiles, I were very unworthy of the honour which you do me, if I should let you engage yourself any further in an affection wherein you can never receive any satisfaction: Alas Madam (said Thrasiles and interrupted her) can I never hope to be loved or endured? No (said she unto him) you cannot; and if I could obtain so much power of myself, as to tell you the reason, you would agree with me, that unless I should wrong you, and be unjust, I must deny you my affection: Why Madam (said he) can you not love me, because you love some body else? Can there be any in the world so happy, as to be loved by Atalia? Can any upon earth be so little transported with joy at so high a happiness, as that he can hide it? Fie Atalia, it is not impossible: If he were a man of this Court, who hath this honour, I should discover the joys of his soul through his eyes; and the truth is, if there were any truth were in your words, I should have seen him with you, and if I had seen him, certainly I should have known his happiness and his passion: Yet you may easily conceive, said she unto him, that what I tell you is not invented: But I beseech you Madam (said he unto her) who is this too happy man that hinders me from being so, and who hath the glory of your affection? I did not tell you, replied Atalia, that I do love any, but only that I would have you know, that there is one whose love I could admit of: If that be all, replied Thrasiles, it is not enough to hinder me from loving you; and I beseech you Madam, give me leave to love you as well as my Rival, be he whom he can be, and if it so fall out, that you love him better than me, than it may be my respects of you may make me endure my misfortune with patience.  
Atalia seeing she had said either too much, or too little to satisfy him, was at a little non plus; so that resolving to drive the nail to the head at one blow, she confessed unto Thrasiles, that she was in love, though she would never confess with whom: I beseech you Madam (said he unto her) tell me who is this invisible Rival, the noise of whose sighs could never reach my ears, though I have been almost perpetually with you? and what hath he done to win your heart, and undo me? He hath loved me (said she) before you did, and whilst you were in love with another; and he hath loved me with so much fidelity and obedience, that he never revealed unto you the secrets which were betwixt us: How Madam (replied Thrasiles much astonished) is the Rival you love my friend? No, no Madam, this is not possible; for truly I have but one only friend, which is Egesipes, and I am most confident he would reveal his very heart unto me, if either of us two be faulty, I am sure it is myself, in never telling him that I loved you; and besides Madam, Egesipes hath been absent this three months: 'Tis true (said she and blushed) Egesipes hath been out of Cumes this three months; but it is as true also, that he hath been above a year in my heart; therefore Thrasiles, since I would not expose you unprofitably to lose a friend, I had a mind to discover that unto you, which yet he knows not, and will acquaint you, that I shall never love any but Egesipes, who only knows that I do not hate him, but knows not at all how my heart is wholly his: Oh Madam (cried he out) I had rather he knew it, and that I knew it not; But is it true, that Egesipes should be my Rival, and I have no cause to hate him? Doubt it not, said she, for indeed he knows no more that you are his Rival, than you did within this quarter of an hour know that he was yours: However Thrasiles, (said she and assumed a very serious countenance) If you be not faithful unto me, and if you do not make good use of this secret wherewith I have trusted you, I do profess, I shall most horridly hate you: I beseech you Madam, replied he and sighed, what shall I do to make good use of it? You must never tell it unto any (said she) no not unto Egesipes himself. You must also cease to be my Lover, but never cease to be his friend. Alas Madam, replied Thrasiles, how difficult are your commands to be obeyed? how hard a task is it to love a Rival, and leave loving a Mistress? When one cannot without injustice hate the first, replied she, nor with any hopes continue loving the other, the most rational, the most generous, and fittest course is to be taken, and not obstinately to run on headlong in a design which will never prosper.  
For all Atalias fair language, she could not that day persuade Thrasiles; but he persisted loving her as before: he thought also to have quarrelled with Egesipes as soon as he returned to Cumes. But upon serious consideration, finding that the affection of Egesides and Atalia was indissolvable, and all was both unjust and in vain, to root his friend out of the heart of th● 〈◊〉 one, he began generously to strive with himself, he left Cumes for a certain time, and when he returned would not visit Atalia any more: so that absence, reason, generosity, friendship and all, overcoming his passion, he left off loving Atalias, since he saw an absolute impossibility of ever obtaining her love. Thus I conceive it may very well be said, that though there was a great difference between her and the first Lady he loved, yet he might very well quit her without any aspersion of inconstancy as well as the other.  
However, since in changing his thoughts of her, he had not changed his temper: and since the amorous inclination of his soul could not be idle, he fell insensibly in love with Cleocrite, who indeed was very capable of captivating a heart, but was absolutely uncapable of making a Lover happy, for her humour was opposite unto any such things of that nature. Since the love of Thrasiles unto this fair one was extremely violent, I shall insist longer in relation of the passages between them, than I did in relation of the two first: And since it doth very much concern Thrasiles, that you perfectly know Cleocrite, to the end you may not accuse lum for quitting her, it is requisite I describe her unto you: As for her person, I need not speak of it, because you know her, yet I can assure you, that since she hath of late been sick, you never saw her beauty in its full lustre, for certainly when she was in perfect health, she was much fairer than now she is, though now at this present she be very fai●. For Madam, there was so great a lustre in Cleocrites complexion, and in her eyes, when she dressed up herself with a design to make a Conquest, that she always struck all beholders with admiration: Moreover, Cleocrite had an excellent, gallant, and knowing it: she spoke admirably, and inspired a soul into all company; she would be so sweetly merry as pleased very much, and she would out with a thousand pleasant quibbles in a pleasant manner: But for all the charms of her beauty and wit, and maugre all the excellent qualities which she was Mistress of, she had one which did not only lose her all her Lovers, but also all her friends: and which made it a thing almost impossible to love her long and zealously. Every one did questionless always much esteem her, and love her also whether they would or no: but it was with a murmur against her, and with a confession they did not well in loving her: for truly Cleocrite had such an universal, and so great a neutrality and indifferency unto all whatsoever, that she made those who knew her to despair, who otherwise esteemed her very much; yet do not think, I mean, Madam, when I speak thus of her indifferency, that she is uncapable of either violent passion or violent friendship: but my meaning is, she is absolutely incapable of any particular application of herself unto any one whosoever; and if she loved any thing much, it was pleasures in general: She could leave any place without any trouble to herself, new acquaintance never vexed her; She could easily endure the absence of her best friends, though yet she would have been glad to see them: and it may be said, and truly, that she accustomed herself unto all Companies, and dis-accustomed herself from all. Since she had wit in abundance, and could very well discern degrees of merit, and distinguish men of parts from others, She 〈◊〉 much delighted to have her chamber always full both of wits, and blockheads: But when-chance would sometimes have it so, that there was none of the first sort there, so there were but a number of mean capacities, who could but talk and fill up seats, she was never troubled at it as any other would have been: And I believe Cleocrite, as witty and sprightly as she was, did so love a multitude, that she had rather have been in the company of five or six shallow wits, then in the company of the most accomplished man upon earth, if he were long with her. I assure you Madam, Cleocrite was never better pleased then when she saw much company both at home and abroad, and pass continually from pleasure to pleasure, and from feast to feast; as for solitude she d●d abhor it, yet this must needs be said to the glory of Cleocrite, that she was very ready to do her 〈◊〉 any service whensoever any occasions were offered; and would often treat them as if she d●d most tenderly love them. But to tell you truly, it was because she knew that decency re 〈…〉 it▪ and that when she saw them, she would be merry with them; and being a lover of pleasure and mirth, she would love them that would be merry and 〈…〉 as the 〈◊〉 and pleasure lasted, and no longer. She was of such a cold 〈…〉, that though she would have been glad that one should love her, yet she cared not for being loved with any tenderness or violence, provided people did esteem her, and love her enough to see her often, to be complaisant and merry, she cared not a straw for any more. However, this strange indifferency, which vexed both her Lovers and her friends, did not so eclipse Cleocrite, but as for all that, she was one of the most accomplished Ladies in the world. She being such then as I have presented her unto you, Thrasiles loved her, and loved her with so much the more hopes, because he thought he did not expose himself to love one who loved a thousand, nor unto such a rocky misfortune as he did in loving Atalias, being sure that she had no particular affection unto any which could hinder her from accepting his, since she was generally accused for loving none at all. He hoped also that this her cold indifferency might one day prove advantageous to him, if ever he could win upon her, and that he should be much more happy in having one who would be cold unto all the world but himself. The truth is Madam, he loved Cleocrite, and did not despair of obtaining her love; for she being of a free, and open, sprightly nature, and entertaining all that diverted extraordinarily well, Thrasiles was at the very first mistaken, and thought that she was so for the love of him, though indeed it was only for the love of herself; so that he engaged himself more and more, and loved her far better than ever he did before.  
Thrasiles being of a free and liberal inclination, invented a hundred diversions which were agreeable to the disposition of Cleocrite; sometimes he would give her a dancing entertainment, another while he would surprise her with music: If he walked with her, she was sure to meet with a costly collation, and for a whole Summer together, there was no day without a pleasant diversion from Thrasiles: You may very well imagine Madam, that Cleocrite, having a soul so devoted unto delights, would very civilly treat the man who procured them, especially a man so accomplished as Thrasiles was. In the mean time, as much in favour as he was, he could never tell her of his passion; for such was the general neutrality of Cleocrite, that she never repulsed any acquaintance: So as there was continually so many men with her, and sometimes men very impertinent, as it was not possible for him to get a minutes talk with her in private: But at last, being one day in the Garden with her, and with four or five persons more who he wished further off, he led her apart from this troublesome company. But since Cleocrite did naturally love a general conversation, better than any private, she turned several times to see whether the company followed, and seeing them to walk a slow pace, she offered to call them, as if she had been weary of Thrasiles. But this Lover having a hot desire to discover his passion unto her who caused it, did hinder her, and would not lose an occasion which he had so long looked for: Why Madam (said he unto her) is not my company enough to entertain you in a place, where Trees, Flowers, and Fountains may delight the eyes, and divert the mind? Pray pardon me Sir (said she very obligingly unto him and smiled) for I was afraid that my company was not good enough to please you, and therefore I desired to call for more: I beseech you Madam (said Thrasiles) do not think I can desire better company than yours, especially now when I have something to tell you, which I have long desired to impart: Really Thrasiles (said she unto him, without any application of it to herself) you do very ill in staying so long before you tell it. Thrasiles surprised at her speech, did perceive she did not much mind what she said, and indeed Cleocrite never staying for Thrasiles his answer, began to ask him, whether the Ball was to be kept the next day at the Prince of Cumes his Palace? I know not Madam, said he, whether there be any Ball to morrow; but I am most sure, my heart will be much perplexed to day, if you will not hearken unto what I shall tell you, and if you do not hearken very favourably: For the truth is Madam, I have discovered in my soul a thought so contrary unto that wherewith you are upbraided, that I am extremely afraid you should hate me when you know it: No, no (said Cleocrite unto him) I am not so unjust as you think me; therefore though you be not of my opinion in every thing, yet I shall not hate you; for the same indifferency wherewith they upbraid me, makes me to allow others their opinions, so they will let me enjoy my own, and suffer me to follow my own will: You do much joy me Madam, replied he, and for this day only I shall love this indifferent humour, whereof you are so much accused, if it will permit me to tell you, and not anger you, that I am infinitely in love with you. Cleocrite was so surprised at the discourse of Thrasiles, that thinking perhaps it was only a piece of Gallantry, she began to answer him laughing: Though it were true you did love me, said she, and though I could hear it without any anger, yet I believe you would not be a jot the better, for I never heard that indifferency was any great favour: It is most true, it is not (replied Thrasiles) but yet I must needs think it a piece of good fortune, if you can know I love you, and yet not hate me; and truly my passion is of such a nature, as you would be unjust if it did offend you, since my desire is only to see and adore you, and if it be possible, to talk with you sometimes in less company, and more privacy. How's this Thrasiles (said she unto him) are you so bold as to talk of any matters of Love unto one who is accompred for neutrality and indifferency in the very abstract? And can you ever think, that since I am accused for not loving where I ought to love, I will ever begin to entertain any vicious affection, or any Gallantry? No, no (pursued she and laughed, and desired to avoid angering him) though it were true you did love me, and hoped to obtain my life, yet your proceeding is not discreet, but you ought to stay until you saw me inclinable unto any amity at all; therefore Thrasiles, I would advise you as a friend, to continue living with me, as formerly you have done, until you see my heart a little softed; for to think I should in a moment pass from one extremity unto another, is to imagine impossibilities: I know very well Madam said he unto her, that it is a very difficult task to engage unto the love of any; but to show you that I aim not at any impossibilities, I do not now ask so much happiness, as that you should love me, but I only ask so much favour, as to let me love you: I am so accustomed Sir, replied she, not to care what thoughts men have of me, that what you ask, I think will be no difficulty to obtain; yet since your company doth infinitely please me, I wish with all my heart, you would not drive me to the necessity of being deprived of it. as infallibly I must, if you continue persecuting me with any talk of Love, which doth but trouble both the Lover and the loved; for indeed Thrasiles, why do you think, I endeavour so much to preserve this indifferency, which is so much talked of? The reason is, because I see all men who are not so, are miserable. This fine tenderness of heart, which is so highly applauded, makes those who are capable of it, not only sensible of their own miseries, but of others also, or at least they say so: So that knowing so many as I do, if I were of such a tender composition, I should be perpetually in misery; for there is not a day in the year in which there is not some one of my friends either absent, or sick, or in some affliction or other: But I know how to pass away my time a little better than so, and am more rational, then to grieve excessively at any thing but what reflects directly upon myself. It seems Madam, replied Thrasiles, that you are the happiest person in the world: Not at all, said she, for I have as many vexations, as others have. As for example, when I have a design to walk, if it chance to rain, or the day not prove fair, I am vexed to the heart; or if it prove too cold or dry, and the dust disturb the pleasure of it, I am grieved at it to the soul; if any covetous fellow will not be at the charges of keeping a Ball, I shall murmur and grumble at him, as if he had done me some manifest injury; if I chance to be a little ill upon any day of diversion, I shall be so sick as if I were ready to die: So that though I have none but my own sorrows to be sensible of (said she and laughed) yet I have enough to put me to all my patience; therefore Thrasiles, do not perplex me with that which of all things in the world I cannot endure, for I assure you, if you be obstinate, and will be talking to me of any such things as Love, you will find, that though I am not capable of any tenderness, yet as indifferent as I am I am capable of anger; yet for all this, Thrasiles did not take her counsel, but on the contrary, began to protest most seriously and earnestly, that his affection to her was infinite, and that he was fully resolved to overcome her indifferency by a million of services, by as many prayers, sighs, and submissions: So that Cleocrite foreseeing she must be deprived of Thrasiles, who furnished her with a thousand diversions, and that she was not to accept any of his feasts, as she did before he had discovered his passion unto her; also considering that he would endeavour as much as he could to talk only with her, and hinder her from talking with others, she was so extremely vexed at it, as she gave him very angry language, and Thrasiles could not give any appeasing answers, for the rest of the company joining with them, he could not speak to her all that day: Since the anger of this fair one was very high, and since he never before had any trial of it, he feared that it would last long, and not daring to revive it, he kept very close three whole days, and durst not see her, nor would he go any where else, since he could not see her there: Yet at the last, since he was not able to live and not see her, he resolved to go unto her, but it was in such a trembling manner, and with such a dull sadness in his face, as made it evident he had spent his time very ill, since he saw her last.  
As for Cleocrite, it was not so with her, for she had been every day in the Walks since Thrasiles told her of his love; and though she had not been in company of any so accomplished as himself, yet Cleocrite was never melancholy for the matter; but was as gay, and pleasant, and merry, as Thrasyles was said. This miserable Lover then going to her with a look as pitiful as Cleocrite was pleasant, he entered into her chamber with fears, that he should find but very bad reception: But the wonder of the passage was, that Cleocrite having spent those three days in feasts and pleasures, and had talked with a hundred several persons since she saw Thrasiles, had so quite forgot that he had ever mentioned any matters of love unto her, and that she had given him any sharp answer, or was ever angry at him, as she entertained him with a free and pleasant countenance as formerly she was wont to do; ask him where he had been? what he had been doing, and why he was not at those feasts She had been at? Telling him, She had been very merry, and that She did not think She should ever see more pleasant days than these last.  
Thrasiles was so amazed at the carriage of Cleocrite, as he knew not whether he should be sad or glad at it: yet not thinking it possible she should so soon forget the passages between them, his hope was that she repented herself of her course treatments to him; so that desiring to close with an opportunity which he thought favourable for him: Had I thought Madam, (said he unto her) that my company would not have disturbed your pleasures, I should not have failed to be in those places where you have been so pleasant: But I must ingeniously confess, that I durst not see you so soon after the harsh language you were pleased to give me: and I did not come hither now but in fear of your discovering the, zeal of my passion. Cleocrite hearing Thrasiles say so, did presently remember what she had forgotten: at first she blushed for shame, but presently after she began to laugh so heartily, that she was not able to speak: Thrasiles did now as much wonder at her at her merryness, as he did before at her civility, and stood stone still; but at last Cleocrite beginning discourse: I ask you pardon Thrasiles, said she, for the injury I have done you, in quite forgetting what you said, and what I answered the other day: and for not remembering that I was angry with you; for indeed I know that my present civilities are most injurious. But I protest, I did not remember it; yet to repair my fault, and to testify that I am not so indifferent as you think me, I will rouse up my anger, and quash all my civilities. Thrasiles was so astonished at this, that he neither knew what to think or say; but at last, not being able to hold. Is is possible Madam, said he unto her, you should forget how I told you that I loved you? Yes, said She, and so forgot it, that I should do you the greatest wrong in the world, if I should remember it; for indeed I should then have lived with you, as I did before.  
But Madam, replied he, Can I believe this to be true? To make you certain of it, said She, keep only five or six days out of my sight, and when you come again to me, speak not a word that may revive your crime, and my anger in my memory, and see whether I shall remember it; for unless I be much mistaken, I shall not, and it will be long of you only, if we do not agree well together as we did before. No no, Madam, replied Thrasiles, much incensed, I must not do so; for since you cannot remember a thing three days, I must tell you every day that I love you, and that I shall for ever love you whether you will or no, in spite of that cruel indifferency wherein you so much glory, though it be the greatest fault you have. As Thrasiles pronounced these last words, I came into the chamber of Cleocrite, and heard them very distinctly: so that prompting them to go on with their discourse, I need not ask (said I unto Cleocrite) what that fault is, wherewith Thrasiles upbraids you, for since you have but one it is easy to guests it, especially since it is so generally known unto all the world. I protest Lyriana, (said she unto me and laughed) you are very plain with me, and I do not think there is any person upon earth who is so freely upbraided with her faults as I am. Since you do vainly glory in that one you have, replied I, the world speaks of it without fear of angering you, and without any hopes also of ever men●ing you. Then they should never speak of it, replied She. You take so much pleasure in their speaking of it (replied Thrasiles) that it is the least piece of complacency they can use to you to speak of it, as they do the reason why I am not angry, said Cleocrite, is the same why the greatest beauties are least angry when they are called ugly: For to speak with the same plainness, Lyriana, that you do, if I had only that fault which the world so twits me with, I were the rarest woman upon earth. Yet you go too far, said I unto her, if you persuade yourself that a cold faint indifferency is a good quality. Perhaps (replied Cleocrite) you call indifferency something else which I know not, and which I am a stranger unto; but I dare maintain that all my thoughts are just, and that the amity whereof I am capable, is the most convenient, and rational of all others: As for the most convenient for you, replied Thrasiles, I do agree with you, but as for the most rational, I think it is disputable. The most tender amity, replied she, cannot produce any thing which is good, that may not also be expected from mine; For truly, I think there is none, who loves better to serve their friends, nor is more glad to see them, than I am: You might have added, replied I, nor none that can better tolerate their absence: It is true, said she, that when I lose the sight of them, I do not lose my wits: But I pray tell me, if I were the most grieved in the world at the absence of my friends, what good would it do them? Doubtless I am sorry to part with friends, but it is without any mad excess, or troubling my friends which remain, by an insupportable grief, which does them no good who see it not, and troubles them who do see it, and casts down myself, without any other benefit but getting the reputation of a tenderhearted thing; but in my judgement, these are arguments of a weak soul.  
Did I not really esteem my friends according to their merit, and serve them whensoever they stand in need of my assistance, I should set a worse face upon them when they come to see me; I should not let them condemn me as they do, only because forsooth I do not give them my whole heart, and because I am not sensible even to the very last gasp; and because I do not mix with my talk words of tenderness, zealous amity, and such like, therefore I must pass for a piece of hard indifference, though to speak truly, I am no more than what is requisite and concordant to reason; this is it which I cannot endure; And indeed (pursued she and laughed) do not all the Sages who are so famed in the world make prudence to consist in a self-denial of all things? and according to their precepts am not I temperate, as they by their sapient documents would have me? None of the Sages you speak of, replied Thrasiles, did ever condemn amity; No more do I, replied she, but I do regulate it, and give it limits: For to think that amity should be a heavy burden, and an overload unto those who have it, is a thing most unjust; if so, I had rather choose ambition, hatred, or anger, than amity, which is praised tender amity, heroic amity, since certainly I should suffer less by those three violent passions, then by that you call amity: You might have wished jealousy as a higher aggravation (replied Thrasiles) If one could be jealous, replied she, without love, I should have put it in for company; and if you will, I will also add envy, which is no less tormentive than jealousy, that I may let you see how inconvenient I think this kind of tender amity is; I am confident, that if the hearts of all men were laid open, as mine is, even those who make the greatest profession of tenderness, they would not be found more tender nor sensible than mine is, even those who make the greatest profession of tenderness, they would not be found more tender nor sensible than mine is; all the difference 'twixt me and others is, that I speak what I think, and would not pass for what I am not, or for what I would not be: Oh I beseech you, said I, content yourself with your own indifferency, and do not undertake to condemn amity, which is the most innocent, the most just, the most sweet, and the most heroic quality in the world; for truly this amity which you so much slight is of such a Nature, as without it, there is no true satisfaction in the world, all other pleasures without it are but imperfect, they reach no further than the senses, but never fill the soul, or charm the heart with abundance of sweetness: 'Tis amity, doubtless which sweetens all sorrows, which doubles all delights, which makes one to find comfort and consolation in the greatest misfortunes, and indeed it is that which prompts every one unto a thousand heroic actions: The truth is, pursued Thrasiles, It is had ●n veneration amongst all Nations, and there is not one person in all the world except Cleocrite, who is not offended at it, if they be charged with want of amity: I pray do not except me, replied she, for I should not be pleased that I should say I do not love my friends: But it is true, I do not much affect, that any should think my amity to be worthy of any Eulogies: If you did but know what true amity is, replied I, you would be ashamed to call such an affection as your heart is capable of, by so glorious a name: However it be, said she, I would not alter my opinion. After this, Thrasiles and I, did argue a long with Cleocrite to no purpose, for we could not argue her unto any repentance, nor make her acknowledge she was in the wrong. However, since my design was only a bare visit unto Cleocrite, after I had stayed out a reasonable time, I went out, and left Thrasiles alone with her, who not being able to leave her, before he had expressed his affection, as soon as he saw I was gone, he began to speak unto her. Because I dare not ask a favour Madam (said he unto her) which would be opposite unto your humour, I shall this day only desire of you, that you would be so indifferent as to let me love you, and not be angry: I have already told you Sir, replied she, all that I can say upon that question: But not to deny you every thing, I shall further say unto you, that upon condition you will live eight days, as heretofore you have done, and mention not a word of that pretended passion which you say is in your heart, nor by any of your actions manifest it unto me, I will do what I can to forget all that you said unto me the other day, and to day: And after this, I protest I will never examine upon what grounds you visit me; and to testify how pleasing the sight of you is unto me, I promise you never to attribute any thing which you shall do for me, to any thoughts of Love: Oh Madam (cried out Thrasiles) I do not desire this last favour, but on the contrary, I conjure you to believe, that whatsoever I shall do or say, are only such effects as my love of you doth inspire into me: When you see me sad, think that I am so only because I am not loved of her whom I adore; if you see me joyed, the only reason is because I am near you; if I be in a deep study, imagine it yourself who hath sole taken up my soul; if I look upon you, think that is in hopes you will cast a favourable eye upon me again; and if I do not look upon you, conceive it is because I am afraid to anger you, and find it in your eyes; and indeed Madam, without any interpretation of my actions, as actions of indifferency, believe that whatsoever I shall do, is done with a premeditated design and hope to obtain your love: To testify unto you, replied Cleocrite, that I am of a very pliant humour, I shall believe as you would have me to believe: Oh Madam, said Thrasiles, Shall I be so happy? As for happy, said she, I know not whether you will be or no; all I know is, and I will say it again, that I tell you I will believe you love me, and that you would have me love you; but at the same time I declare unto you, that I will transact with you, as if I did believe all this, this is, I will see you no more, that I will shun you with all imagineable care, that I will deprive myself of a thousand delights by it, and by consequence, that I will most horribly hate you. Oh Madam (cried out Thrasiles) rather then so, I beseech you think that I do not love you: I shall do so, said she, and do it with abundance of pleasure: Yet I beseech you Madam, replied Thrasiles, believe, or not believe, as you shall think good: Since I am to believe what pleaseth me, replied she, I shall easily believe you do not love me, because I do extremely wish it; therefore Thrasiles take your measures accordingly, and be confident, that the readiest way in the world to make me hate you, will be to create a disposition in me to part from this neutral indifferency, which causeth all the tranquillity and sweetness of my life; content yourself with my accustomed civilities, regulate yourself accordingly.  
Thrasiles used all his Rhetoric to make her change opinion, but all would not do; and before he could obtain leave to see her, as he was wont to do, he must promise her to carry himself towards her, as formerly he used: However, he thought it a kind of happiness that he had let her know he loved her without a banishment; for since he could not imagine she should believe he did not love her, he hoped that she herself would take it to heart, without his further telling her— So that assuming to himself new hopes, and consequently new joys, he continued in his obsequious ways of serving her, and Courting her with a thousand delights; yet this serenity of soul and tranquillity of heart was not long, for the more he applied himself unto her, the more indifferent he found her, and he more clearly found it, because having two Rivals who were nothing so gallant as himself, and who Courted Cleocrite with some diversions, yet he observed that she was not more faintly indifferent unto them, then unto himself, provided the music was good, that the Ball was finely carried, and the Banquet sumptuous, she cared not a straw for him who was at the charges of them, and would have been as well contented to have received all these diversions from any other, as from him: So that Cleocrites manner of living, did put this pitiful Lover to a thousand secret displeasures, yet he could not accuse her of any inconstancy, or any secret underhand dealing, for she held correspondency with none, nor treated any better than himself, nor did she treat him better than any other, though she had a thousand reasons to put a notable difference betwixt Thrasiles and all the rest; for it was his fortune to render her many considerable services concerning her family, and having very much credit, several occasions presented themselves, wherein he did highly manifest his affection unto her. But do what he could, he could not move her heart, nor never extinguish her humour of indifferency, yet he did accustom himself whether she would or no to tell her he loved her, but it produced no more effects upon her soul, then upon a stone, insomuch as he grew so much incensed against her cruel indifferency, that he was not only grieved because She would not love him, but it vexed him also that She would not love any of her friends: and he hath sometimes sworn unto me, that he should have thought himself less miserable, if Cleocrite had loved any of his Rivals, than he was to see her so insensible and indifferent as She was.  
I beseech you Madam, (said he one day unto her when he had found some new sign of her insensibility) Persuade me by some example, that it is not absolutely impossible you should love some or other: Choose out of the whole Universe whom you shall think good; for were I once convinced you could love any, I should be in some hopes: it not being possible that any sensible heart should know my passion, and not answer it: but to see that nothing will move it, that your soul will not fix upon any, that though you have a most discerning eye in all things, yet that you will choose none, this is a thing which is most intolerable. Yet you must endure it, replied She, for I will never change, nor do I think I ought ever to change; And indeed She was as good as her word. Yet Thrasiles as inconstant as he is said to be did still continue loving her, that for my part I did both pity and chide him: Also I had reason to double my pity; for the indifferency of Cleocrite went so near his heart, and grief so filled his spirits that he fell sick, and that most extremely sick. At first Cleocrite who knew his disease, and was not ignorant that She herself was the cause, sent to see how he did, and said She was very sorry: but for all that, though all Physicians thought him desperate, She lost not a day's diversion from it, nor was a jot more melancholy, nor worse dressed. And questionless this last insensibility was like to have been the death of Thrasiles: For since he had his reason free, and since the heat of his fever had not a jot cooled his love, he did every day carefully cause his men to inquire what Cleocrite did, so that sometimes he would hear She was in the walks, other times that She was at some great feast; and almost every day that She was never so jocund and merry: But one day amongst the rest, when he was exceeding ill, and Cleocrite sending to see how he did, he sent her word as he believed, that Shewas now like to lose the most faithful of all her servants, & that he thought he should never have the honour to see her again: yet he understood that this sad message did not keep her that day from making several visits, visits of pleasure, and no necessity at all. You may well imagine Madam, that this went to the very heart of Thrasiles: yet maugre all his discontents he recovered: but could not so soon recover the disease of his mind as of his body; for he returned as deep in love with Cleocrite as ever, though he was much vexed She should be so little sensible of his sickness, yet She did easily appease him, for as soon as ever She saw him in a capacity of giving her fresh diversions, She received him with such joy in her countenance as would have persuaded any one, that She had been very sorry for his sickness: Thus did Thrasiles suffer himself to be deluded, insomuch as he courted her in such a manner as would have moved even cruelty itself. In the mean while Thrasiles being engaged to go unto the wars; and the day of his departure being come, he sent to ask her favour that he might come and take his leave of her, but because she was engaged with Lysidice to go unto some place, I know not where, about a business not worth a rush, and even where some of Thrasiles his Rivals were to meet her: She chose a very mean pleasure, rather than deprive herself of it, in giving Thrasiles so much satisfaction as to bid her adieu. You may well imagine Madam, what thoughts Thrasiles carried with him, and whether Cleocrite was very sorry for his absence; yet sometimes She would think upon him, but it was only to lament the want of those diversions he was wont to give her; and not one tender or obliging thought of him: This Madam, if I be not much mistaken, is sufficient to justify the change of Thrasiles.  
Be pleased to know that towards the end of the Summer, it chanced that I went one morning unto her, to ask her if She should make a visit with me that day? At first, She told me that She was engaged unto Philoxene to go with her unto a place; but upon examination whether She should find more pleasure in Philoxenes visit or mine: She resolved upon mine, and sent to excuse herself unto the others: Then She began to make herself ready, and to ask my counsel how She should dress herself. As we were then in contest what She should wear or not wear, one of her women entered into her Chamber with such sad looks, as was easy to perceive She had some bad news to tell. Madam, said the woman unto her, you will be much surprised and very sorry if you knew all: Cleocrite whose mind ran all of dressing herself, and never had the least thought of Thrasiles, did think that her gown which was to be brought that morning, was not yet ready: or that the Carcanet of Diamonds which She had borrowed of a friend, and which She intended to wear that day, was broken or lost; so that She hastily asked the woman, which of those mischances it was? No Madam, replied She, the news is worse; Thrasiles is killed, and news of it is brought unto Niside: Alas (cried I out with extreme sorrow) is Thrasiles killed? Yes (said the woman) and all the world does infinitely lament him. To tell you Madam, that Cleocrite would have been more grieved if the Carcanet of Diamonds had been lost or broken, then at the death of Thrasiles, perhaps had been a lie, and perhaps a truth; for Madam, all that ever She did in the business was to send unto Nisides to know whether the news was true; and in the mean while She did a little lament the death of Thrasiles, but it was with a very quiet mind, and without one single tear or sigh: Alas, said She unto me, I was in such hopes of a thousand delights from Thrasiles this Winter, that I must needs lament the loss of the poor man. For my part, said I unto her, I lament the loss of himself, & not for the loss of any delights; and although he would have contributed unto no diversions at all, yet I should pity him as much as I do. Whilst we were talking thus, the news of his death was confirmed; and immediately after I saw Cleocrite looking in her glass, and being but half dressed, She dressed herself with as much spruseness and alacrity as She designed before the sad news was brought: For my part, I must confess, I was so surprised at the obdurate insensibility of Cleocrite, as I was speechless; so looking upon her actions with as much amazement as sorrow, and with as much anger as amazement: I observed that she ranged her locks, and curled her hair with as much niceness and care, and dressed herself as trimly as if She had some design of conquering a fresh Lover in lieu of him She had lost. After I had forced my patience a long while in silently seeing her deck herself, and after her woman was gone out, my choler could contain no longer: Fie Cleocrite, said I unto her, does not those thousands of delights which Thrasiles hath given you, deserve one day of mourning for him, and to deprive yourself for his sake of a poor mean diversion the day you hear of his fatal death? If that would raise him from the dead, replied she, I should do it with much joy; but since I have passed my word unto Philoxene, I am resolved to keep it. But you did resolve to break it (said I unto her) and to make a visit with me; and may you not as well break it to mourn one day for the poor Thrasiles? I can mourn for him better in company then in solitude (replied this hard hearted Lady) and if I should this day hide myself, I might perhaps be accused of mourning too much for him: Fie Cleocrite, said I unto her, you are not in any such reputation of tenderness, as that you need fear any such aspersion; and certainly they would wrong you much, if they should think you so inclined: Why (said She) do you think I do not grieve for Thrasiles? I protest I think so, said I unto her. And I protest, replied she, that I grieve as much as I can, and more than ever I did for any: I do believe it, said I unto her; yet it is because you love nothing in the world but yourself; and as long as you can look in you●●lass, and find yourself fair, you care for nothing else; yet I would gladly know whether you could resent the loss of your own beauty. Cleocrite then offered to give me some poor reasons, but I rise up and left her, not being able to endure such a stony hearted piece of insensibility. Howsoever, she went with Philoxene unto the place agreed upon, where She found more diversion than She expected, for they danced until night. But Madam, all this was happy for Thrasiles: for you must know, that the cause of these reports of his death, was, that there was one Thrasiles killed, but it was Thrasiles of Xanthes, and not of Cumes: For that Thrasiles who was an Adorer of Cleocrite, and whose death I lamented, being chosen by the Prince of Cumes to carry the news of the victory which he had lately gotten, he came to town that very evening after his death was reported, his first care was to inquire how Cleocrite did, and he was let know that She was at a Ball: and at the same time he was informed that every one thought him dead: he understood that Cleocrite sent unto his mother to inquire of it, and that it was from her confirmed; so that he could not doubt but Cleocrites heart was harder to him then any flint. This did so much surprise him that imagining perhaps Cleocrite was not told of it; or that perhaps she had heard the news of his death contradicted, he resolved to go unto the place where they said she was. But in his way thither, he took my house in his way to ask me what I knew concerning Cleocrite; so that after my expressions of joy to see him alive, and desiring to cure him of his passion, I told him that the hard hearted indifferency of Cleocrite was unworthy of his affection: and I brought his mind into such a state as to wish he could love her no longer: After which he went unto the place where she was in a strange perplexity: As he entered into the hall, she was dancing, and danced so very well, as it was apparent her mind was wholly upon it; and the thoughts of his death did not hinder one step of her dancing. You may imagine Madam, how Thrasiles was troubled to see how indifferent Cleocrite was of him; but much more after she had done dancing, when he saw her talk to his Rivals with as much jollity in her looks, as ever she had in her life.  
There being much company in that place, Thrasiles was not at first perceived, but anger upon a sudden rowzing up his heart, and desiring to reproach Cleocrite with her horrible insensibility, he broke through the crowd, and came unto the place where she was discoursing: Imagine Madam, how Cleocrite was surprised to see Thrasiles by her, whom she thought to be dead, she scrieked out, as if she had seen some horrid apparition: So that all the company flocked about Thrasiles, and rejoiced to see him. As for Cleocrite, she was as glad as if she had grieved extremely for his death, and for half an hour the talk was so tumultuous, as it was not possible for Thrasiles to speak particularly unto Cleocrite; but at last when every one had complemented themselves out of breath, he had opportunity of speaking to her: I would believe Madam, for my satisfaction (said he unto her in a twitting kind of jest) that you are of the same opinion which some People in the world are of, who think they ought to rejoice, and be finest at the death of their kindred and friends, and who laugh at those which weep and put on mourning; for if I were not persuaded of this, I should have cause to think myself the most miserable of all men living, since the reports? of my death will not oblige you to bestow one sigh upon me, nor stop the full carrier of your joys for one minute. Cleocrite hearing Thrasiles say so, as insensible as she was, yet she blushed, but it was more out of anger then any shame; in lieu of confessing any fault, or any repentance, or seeking out for any excuses, she answered him sharply: If you be risen from the dead, said she unto him, only to make perpetual complaints of me, because I did not weep for you, you put me to the necessity of grieving more for your life, than I did for your death; Therefore if you will take my advice along with you (said she with a forced smile) be contented that I am glad to see you again, without any further enquiry, whether I grieved when I thought you dead: Your insensibility Madam, said Thrasiles, goes too too far, and certainly I should be the least generous of all men, if I should endure it; I am sure Madam, that the loss of my affection will never trouble you, since the loss of my life did never reach your heart; and it is not out of any humour of revenge that I withdraw this affection from you, but it is only from my own tranquillity; for it is a thing most impossible for any man to love a person of such a rocky disposition, and such a flinty insensibility as you are, any long time.  
When Thrasiles was silent, and expected an answer from Cleocrite, one came and took her out to dance, and she went with as jocund a countenance, as if Thrasiles were not at all displeased, nor did take the least care in the world all the day after, to give him any occasion of talking with her, nor ever offered to excuse her insensibility: I think Madam after all this, you will not condemn Thrasiles, for resolving to use all his endeavours to leave loving such a stonyhearted person as was not capable of loving any, yet heaven knows it was a hard task for him to bring it about, and he was a long time consulting which ways might possibly reach the heart of Cleocrite, yet in conclusion, growing out of all patience, very anger in a few days did that which his reason could not, and he cured himself of a disease which he thought incurable, and the more to confirm him in his recovery, Cleocrite did care as little for the loss of him, as if she had esteemed him at the value of a rush; yet I do believe, since that, some resentments of honour made her a little angry, that such a Slave had broken prison; but I am certain, that though she did apprehend the loss, yet it was not at all out of any tenderness: I conceive Madam that after all this, Thrasiles cannot be charged with any inconstancy, since there never appeared the least levity in all his carriage; and that if he did leave loving her, it was only because it was most fitting he should do it.  
Since the love of Thrasiles to Cleocrite made a great noise in the world, it was soon perceived they were at odds, and since the matter was never made any secret mystery between them, all the world did know the cause, and I dare boldly say, all the world did lay the fault where it deserved, and blamed Cleocrite: But amongst the rest, Lysidice could not choose but much condemn her: So that since Thrasiles did naturally love to be pitied, and loved such as took his part, and hearing what Lysidice said in his behalf and against Cleocrite, he desired me to carry him to her, knowing that I was frequently with her; I being glad to contribute any thing unto the consolation which he had found in one who condemned the insensibility of Cleocrite, did willingly consent unto his desire, not being ignorant, that Lysidice would think herself obliged unto me for bringing Thrasiles unto her, whom she esteemed very much, though he never saw her at her own house. But as I have described the other Ladies whom Thrasiles loved, so it is requisite I describe this, whose person you know is all beauty, all amiable, all charming, in whose mind was a million of beauties and admirable graces; but as for her humour, it is such, as none living can represent it unto you, for indeed Madam there was never any more sweet, more compliant, nor more agreeable at certain times, on certain days, and certain hours, and at certain minutes; but also, never any was more austere, more imperious, more crabbed, nor insupportable at other times; so that there was such a prodigious miscellany and inequality in the humour of Lysidice, as I conceive she may be fitly compared unto one of those days in the Spring time of the year, when one shall see the Sun gild all the world, give a fresh fragrancy unto the Meadows and Trees, and disclose a thousand flowers, and upon a sudden a terrible storm of Hail and Snow doth fall, together with thunder and wind; so that one may in one day see all the beauties and all the rigours of the whole year: Indeed Madam, the inequality of Lysidices humour is so great, as I have often seen her most pleasant in the morning, most melancholy after dinner, and as merry as might be before night again, having no cause in the world to be more merry or more sad at one time then at another: Perhaps you will ask me Madam, how Thrasiles could ever fall in love with such an uncertain person; and I must answer, that the good hours of Lysidice were so pleasing and charming, that it is no wonder at all if she did captivate the heart of Thrasiles, which was so apt for love: It may be further said, that the humour of Lysidice was always to prefer the society of men, before that of women, and less various in her unequal humours with new acquaintance then with others: Also Thrasiles did not at first know her temper, but on the contrary, was never better satisfied with any person then with her the first time he saw her: For truly she had served herself into all his thoughts of Cleocrite, and did so inveigh against her rigid humour, as he had good reason to think, that she had a heart as foft and sensible, as Cleocrites was hard and indifferent: So that accustoming himself by little and little to see her, he came at length to love her. Since he had already loved three persons in one Court, he did for a while conceal his passion, fearing that the would would, as formerly upbraid him with inconstancy. Whilst he was thus silently in love with Lysidice, he began to discover the odness of her humours, and I cannot tell whether or no he did wish, that he did not love her, if the fate of it had been in his power: However, since he believe her not to be insensible and indifferent, he counted all her other defects as nothing, and to speak the very truth, Lysidice had no other but this unevenness of temper, and that was not then strong enough to hinder Thrasiles from loving her, and applying himself to her service: But it is very observable, that the same imperfection which all the friends of Lysidice did continually chide her for, was partly a cause why he discovered his passion, sooner than otherwise he would: For Egesipes, Thrasiles, and I being one afternoon with her, it chanced so, that I began to chide her, for the inequality of her humour, which hindered her from being without any fault: That which did give me a subject for it was, that when Thrasiles and I came into her Chamber, she did entertain us with such a hollow kind of gravity, as if she did not care for our company, or as if she were in some most deep melancholy, yet within less than a quarter of an hour Egesipes coming in, she passed upon a sudden from her dumpish humour unto the quite contrary, and was extremely civil, sweet and pleasant. In the mean time, I knew it could not be the sight of Egesipes which caused the alteration of her humour, knowing that she loved me, as well as him, and that she esteemed Thrasiles more than Egesipes: So that making this my pretence of chiding her: Really Lysidice (said I unto her) I am very glad that I came not by myself to see you, and I believe Thrasiles is not sorry that we came together; for since you would have entertained us so coldly, it would have vexed us to have seen it, especially seeing you receive Egesipes with so much joy; but since we came both together, I believe this coldness doth not relate unto either of us: For my part, replied Thrasiles, I respect Lysidice more than to suspect her of any coldness unto you; and I had rather take it all upon myself, though there is none in the world could be more sorry for it then I should: No, no Thrasiles, replied Lysidice, never trouble yourself in a thing wherein you have no share, nor trouble yourself with satisfying Lyriana, for I assure you, She chides me, rather to correct me then for any thing else: It is most true Lysidice (said I unto her) and I should be extremely joyed if you were always in the same mood as you are now, and that you would be never in that humour in which you were when Thrasyles and I came in: Did you but know how much fairer and more amiable you are when you are out of this dogged fit, certainly you would for ever banish it; for questionless, there is nothing more becoming, than an even, smooth and equal temper: For my part, replied Lysidice, I am not of your opinion, but am persuaded it is more pleasant to find several persons in one, then to see still the same glutting equality of temper, which never showeth you but one and the same thing several times. Certainly, added she, and laughed, it is with equal and unequal humours, as with waters in general, where those which are still the calmest, are not the most pleasing: I think none will deny, but that the Sea with all its storms and tempests is more pleasant than a standing lake, in spite of its tranquil serenity: The inequality and fury of the Sea, replied Thrasiles, is doubtless very pleasant unto those who stand upon banks, and look upon it, but very troublesome unto those who are upon it: 'Tis true, replied she: But as the Sea doth sometimes swallow up some unfortunate persons, so it pleaseth a hundred thousand who look up in safety. Moreover, this inequality of temper which is so much vaunted of is often, only a good effect of a bad cause: For to speak in general, if one do well, observe those who are of this even temper you speak of, he shall find much stupidity in some or most, others of a grave and silent temper; it is more out of sluggishness than virtue, that they do not vary and change their humours; others are so continual in the same temper of merriment, that they seem fools, and others of such an insufferable tediousness of spirit, as that their equality of temper, renders them wearisome. Moreover, I will maintain, that most of these equal-spirited persons, have the thoughts of a base and crouching soul: And on the contrary, to speak in general, those of a little uneven temper, and something fantastical, have hearts most high and heroic. I know there are some in whom all the virtues meet, wit, spirit, generosity, complacency, and equality, are their own, but this is very rare; and I am confident that ordinarily, if men of greatest spirits have this equality in their humours, it comes to them more by reason then by temper: You defend a bad cause with so much eloquence, said I unto her, that I cannot think you are fully persuaded, it is as you say: Seriously (said she) I think as I say, and I do not think myself deceived; for indeed, from whence do you think proceeds the fantasticalness and inequality, wherewith Poets, Musicians, Painters, and all those who make profession of the Liberal Arts are charged? Have they not all their raptures? Do you think the Rules of Poetry, the instruments of Music, colours and Pencils, are tied to the same evenness of temper? Fie no, not at all; but the very same temper which makes the highest Poets, the greatest Musicians, and the best Painters, makes humours a little unequal and fantastical. Moreover, it is a gross error, to think that one altar's humour always without cause or reason, and most certainly there are reasons which are not visible unto others, for when the imagination is quick, and the mind very sensible, a very small matter will be a great vexation: In my own particular, my very own thoughts will put me into a bad humour; and when I am not pleased with myself, I am never pleased with any, nor can I please others: But I pray, said I unto her, how is it possible, that having so much wit as you must needs have to speak as you do, you should not employ it to bridle the vexation of your humour, which altars the very air of your countenance, and which sometimes makes the sweetest and most amiable woman in the world become imperious, and as Peevish a thing as is imagineable● The reason is, said she, because I am such a lover of liberty, that I cannot be a slave to my own reason in a thing almost indifferent, and which does not expose me unto any crime; and also, my reason itself tells me, that I am obliged to change my temper; for as I do not know almost any one who has not some quality or other which is to be desired she had not, my friends ought to bear with my faults as I bear with theirs: This word Fault is very rough (replied Thrasiles) to express any quality that can be found in Lysidice: If you consult with Lyriana, replied she, I am confident she will think the word mild enough: Since you are not in your retting humour (replied I unto her) and that one may speak any thing unto you, I find it so strange a thing, you should be capable of such extreme inequality, that I think it not rough enough, for you who can judge so clearly of others, who can make such good choice of your acquaintance, and who can hardly endure those who are but meanly qualified men: Ah Lyriana (said she) when did you ever see me fret or vex, but when I do see men that please me not, or that I have seen some such, or that I know I shall see them, or that I only fear to see them: I beseech you Madam, replied Thrasiles, do me the honour to tell me, which of these four did cause the coldness in your face, when Lyriana and I entered?  
As to that, said she, and laughed, I must ingeniously confess, that I do not know the reason. After such a sincere acknowledgement, we continued chiding Lysidice; who was in so good an humour that day, as that she was not at all angry. Presently after a friend of mine coming to fetch me from Lysidices, I left Thrasiles alone there; for Egesipes would needs carry me to my Coach, and went with me. I understood since, that Thrasiles finding such a favourable occasion, he would not let it slip, not knowing when he might find Lysidice, both alone, and in a good humour; also the last discourse with her did give him a good subject to talk unto her: and since I knew he was in love with her, I turned towards him at my going out, and told him thus; If to to your misery (said I to him, and laughed) you be in love with Lysidice, I would advice you to tell her now as much; for in the humour she is now, I think you may tell her any thing without fear of anger: The counsel you give, replied Thrasiles, perhaps is more dangerous to follow then you imagine. Not at all (replied I, and laughed still) for as Lysidice useth to be angry at every thing when she is in the fretting humour: I am confident, she will not be angry at any thing when she is in the pleasant fit: After this I went out with Egesipes, and Thrasyles stayed. I understood since from himself, that as soon Lysidice and he had taken their seats, he resolved to discover himself, so that making use of my advice, as a Prologue to the business: As dangerous as the counsel of Lyriana is (said he unto her) yet Madam I will follow it: And after I have a long time adored you in silence, it is just you know what thoughts your beauty hath inspired me withal. I beseech you Thrasiles, replied she, do you think that the sharp language of Lyriana need engage you to give me any sweeter; for I am confident she knows not what she said unto you, nor what you answered: I know not why Madam, replied he, you should speak so much of Lyriana; But for my part I do protest, I know very well what I do say; and that I never in all my life spoke more sincerely than now I do, when I assure you that there is none upon earth that loves you better than I do; and that I never loved any near so much as I do you: Fie Thrasiles, said she unto him, you have said too much to be believed; for I am confident you have loved three better than ever you loved any else. Truth is, the first passions are ever most violent; and I think it may very well be said, that the more often one loves, the less he knows how to love. I know not Madam, replied Thrasiles, whether it do often fall out so as you say; but I am most sure it is not so with me: for I loved Atalias much better than I loved her who caused my first passion; I loved Cleocrite much better than I loved Atalia, and I love Lysidice much better than them all three. Since you have told me the several degrees of your love unto three such amiable Ladies (replied she and smiled) I pray tell me also unto what point did you arrive in obtaining the love of them? I thought I had obtained the love of the first, replied he, and I was in hopes of obtaining the love of the other two, but did not obtain the love of any of the three; yet for all this I must love the fair Lysidice, and not despair to obtain her love. Certainly, said she and smiled, to love and not be loved, is not so great a misery as is reported, since you are so resolved to endure it so often. I beseech you, replied Thrasiles, harken a little more seriously unto what I say: and do me the honour to tell me how you would have me live? I dare not undertake to regulate your life, answered she, but I shall be very willing to regulate your words; for truly Thrasiles, you have spoke so much, that I cannot desire you should speak any more. Content yourself therefore with the quality of my friend, and never offer to persuade me that you are my Lover: Moreover, I must tell you, that you would not be so happy as you imagine, if I should suffer you to love me. For first, you may be assured, that though I would have you love me above all the world, yet I would do all that ever is in my power never to love you again. But I beseech you Madam, said he unto her, did you not condemn indifferency in Cleocrite? 'Tis true, said she, and I condemn it to you, for I would have had her to love you, but it should have been by virtue, and not by insensibility. This distinction, replied he, is very nice; but though there cannot be a more miserable condition then to love, and not be loved by the person one loves: yet Madam, I would with all my heart, that the fair Lysidice were once put to the necessity of striving not to love me. You see, (said she and laughed) that I begin it now; since I do what I can to believe you do not love me; and that you speak as you do, only because Lyriana hath engaged you. Oh Madam, replied Thrasiles, do me not so much wrong; for if you do, I shall be induced to tell all the world I love you, to the end you may not be ignorant of it: Take heed, replied she, lest you do as you say, for though it be true you do love me, yet I had rather know it only myself, then that every one should know it, not that I would make any such secret of your Passion as should be advantageous to you, but because I do hate above all things in the world, that any one should be known unto the Court to be my Lover; for if I would treat him ill, it were good for him they should not know it; and if I would treat him well, it would be good for me they did not know he loved me, lest they should suspect I love him; therefore Thrasiles, if you do not love me, you ought not to tell any that you do, since that would be to tell an unprofitable lie; and if you do love me, yet you ought not to tell it, for whether I should be mild or rigorous, it is equally requisite that this pretended Passion be kept close: Then Madam, said Thrasiles, I will tell it unto none but yourself, and provided you will be pleased to let me tell it unto you, I will be silent unto all the world besides: I beseech you Thrasiles (said Lysidice to him) either hold your Peace, or talk of something else; for believe it, my crabbed humour will come upon me if you continue any longer: Then Madam, it's best for me to leave you before it come (said he unto her) And indeed Thrasiles seeing company coming in as he said so, did retire, not knowing whether he was more to hope or to fear, yet he thought himself very happy, in that he had discovered his love unto Lysidice; but the Gods do know, his happiness did not last long, for this changeable humoured woman was so ill satisfied with herself after Thrasiles was gone from her, and thought that she had spoke too kindly unto him, as to repair that fault, she resolved to treat him the most sharply the next time she saw him: And indeed she was as good as her word, for she would scarcely look upon him, or answer him when he spoke; yet Thrasiles could not that day discern perfectly whether this rigid usage from Lysidice, was only a simple effect of her unequal humour, or proceeded from what he had spoke unto her the last time: But a few days after I gave him light in the business, as I am going to tell you: You must know Madam, that going to Lysidice, I found her in her Mother's Chamber, where there was so many women, that there was scarce any room for me, but there was not one man amongst them all.  
I cannot relate every particular passage of their discourse, but I must confess it was not very pleasant, for it was composed only of this and that dress, and of such trifles; and I may very well say, that I never in my life heard so much spoken, and to so little purpose. I easily perceived that Lysidice was in a fretting humour, and perceived it with delight: because it was a kind of whetstone to her wit. As she was very weary of this tumultuous company, which went against the grain of her inclination, one of her Cousins came in, But the most observable thing was, that though this man who came in was far from one of the finest wits, but of a very common form of men, yet the discourse did presently alter, and became more regular, more witty, and more pleasant, though there was not alteration at all in the company, but only this man, who was none of the best Speakers: The truth is, though I cannot give a true reason for it, they talked of other things, and much better, and the very same persons who before did weary me, as well as Lysidice did now extremely delight me. However, when all the company was gone, I stayed with Lysidice, who seeing herself at liberty, did upon a sudden lay aside her crabbed humour, and assumed her pleasant: Well Lyriana, said she unto me, do you yet condemn me for preferring the company of men before the company of women? and must it not needs be confessed, that if all were written down that fifteen or twenty women together should talk, it will be the most pitiful book in the world: I do confess (said I unto her and laughed) that if all I heard this day were written, it would be found a very fantastical piece: For my part, said she, I am almost mad at my own Sex, especially when I am in company whose talk is all of dresses, of householdstuff, of Jewels, and such like; not but that I would have such things talked of: for truly I have sometimes so well dressed myself, as I should be glad to be told of it; and sometimes my Gown is so rich and well made, that I love to hear it commended; but I would have such things spoke of but seldom, that they should talk of them handsomely, as it were by the by, without making it the main business, and not as certain women I know, who make it the whole business of their lives, to talk of such things, and never think of any thing else; and yet do think upon them with so much irresolution, as that they have not yet determined the question in their minds, whether the Red becomes them better than the Blue, or the Yellow, than the Green: I must confess Madam, Lysidices discourse did make me laugh, and the more because there was a Lady in Cumes, whose mind was wholly upon such things, and never talked of any thing else: whose greatest glory did consist in the guilding of her Palace, in the richness of her householdstuff, in the fineness of her clothes, and fairness of her jewels. After I had laughed heartily at Lysidices discourse, I would needs take the Lady's part in general, and told her that there were as many men as women, whose company and discourse was not very pleasing. Doubtless, replied she, there are some whose company and talk is intolerable, but yet there is this advantage in them, that one may more easily be rid of them: nor is one obliged to observe an exact civility towards them.  
But Lyriana, said she, this is not my meaning: for the thing I say is, that the most amiable women in the world, when many of them are by themselves together, and not a man amongst them, do use to talk of nothing worth a straw, and weary one another more than if they were by themselves. But it is not so amongst men of able and accomplished parts: Their conversation, its true, is not so pleasant without Ladies, as with them, yet though it be more serious, it is more rational: For my part, replied I, I could live very contentedly, though I never saw any but women, provided they were such as Lysidice. To answer your civility, replied she, I could be as well contented as you, provided my company were all Lyriana's: But for all that, one to one, two to two, or three to three at the most makes the best company; for I had rather see none then twelve to twelve. Yes Lyriana, (pursued she with the pritiest anger in the world) though there were a dozen Lyriana's in the world, I should not desire to see them altogether every day, unless there were two or three men amongst them. For though I never heard any impertinencies proceed from you in my life, yet I am confident that if there were twelve of you, there would: or else you would do like many of hers, who sit and say nothing, but makes conversation languishing and weariesom: The truth is Lyriana, unless you dissemble you must confess, that there is something in it,, which I cannot tell how to express, that makes one accomplished man more to divert and please a company of Ladies, than the most amiable women of the world can do: I shall go further than this also; for I will maintain, that if there be but two women together, unless they be intimate friends to each other they will be less pleased than they would be, if each of them were talking with a man of spirit and wit whom they had never saw before: Judge therefore, if I have not reason to murmur against my Sex in general. But I do wonder (said I to her and smiled) since the society of men is so necessary, that you do not manage the company of Thrasiles better: for I perceive you treat him with as much sharpness as if you intended to banish him. Thrasiles (replied she and blushed) is questionless a very complete and pleasing man: but he hath given me such cause to complain against him, as that I cannot pardon him: & I should more easily pardon him, if I were not in the humour in which now I am. Since I had a great desire to know how the case stood between Thrasiles & Lysidice, and since this she told me did much augment my curiosity, I pressed her to tell me what he had done; so that she desiring to be rid of my importunity without telling me directly what she thought. Thrasiles, replied she, hath or would have done a thing which would have displeased me the most of any thing in the world. This is a very fine accusation (said I unto her) for you know not whether Thrasiles hath or would have committed a fault. However it be, said she, he is culpable; for you must know that in all probability he endeavoured to deprive me of my dearest friend, and the man whom of all the world did please me best: and he hath made me so to fall out with him, as I shall be constrained to see him no more. I confess Madam, Lysidice spoke this with such an air, that my curiosity was higher than I could devise whom she should mean; I named two or three whom I knew to be her friends, and She always answered mean; I named two or three whom I knew to be her friends, and She always answered that I could not guests him: and to puzzle me the more, She seemed to wonder that I could not hit upon him: But, said I, who is this friend with whom you must break, and with whom Thrasiles hath made you quarrel? He is such a one, replied she, as hath not only made me out of conceit with him, but out of conceit with myself also. I must confefs, said I unto her, that I cannot understand you; for if Thrasiles have told you any thing concerning this friend, which gives you matter of complaint against him, why you doth grieve for him? Because, answered Lysidice, that I had rather not have known the crime which Thrasiles hath revealed unto me, then to be deprived of him who did commit it: But (said I innocently unto her) Can you not wink at it as if you knew it not? for so he do not know that you know it, you are not obliged in point of honour to punish him. If Thrasiles should know, replied She, that I could pardon such a crime, I should be extremely ashamed. But, replied I, though I must not know the criminal, yet may I not know the crime? No (answered she and smiled) you must not know it now: Yet I do wish, said I unto her, that Thrasiles whom I made you acquainted with were not so much out of your favour; and I must confess, that I cannot well see by your words why you should treat him as you do: If I should speak so plain as to be understood (replied she and laughed) doubtless than you would understand me, but since I spoke purposely that you should not understand me, you will hardly find me out. Really Lysidice, said I unto her, You are a very strange woman; and it may be said, that in this business you are both one of the most dissembling Persons, and one of the most sincere in the world: Since you both commend me and blame me (replied she) I conceive, that I ought neither to thank you, nor complain against you; yet do not think, that I keep this secret from you, ibecause I do not think you worthy to know my heart; but the reason is, because accordng to inequality of humour wherewith you have so often upbraided me, there are some days on which I make a secret of every thing, and others, on which I keep close nothing. But Madam, I could not persuade Lysidice to tell me directly: So that not being obliged to observe fidelity with one who would not trust me; I must confess, I was very impatient to see Thrasiles, and to get out of him what I could not out of her, desiring to do a good office between them, and to make them friends.  
So that the next morning, chance bringing Thrasiles to see me, I began to ask him what he had done to incense Lysidice so much against him? How, replied Thrasiles, hath Lysidice complained of me to you? Yes (replied I, seeming to know more than I did) But why did you tell her that which you told her the other day? What I told her, replied Thrasiles, ought rather to have obliged, then to have angered her: But Lyriana, I pray tell me what she did tell you concerning me? For heaven's sake, if you know the cause of her coldness to me, do not conceal it; for I do profess, I cannot understand why any thing I said unto her should provoke her to treat me as she did: I must confess Madam, that when I heard Thrasiles say so, I thought that he had indeed advertised Lysidice, how some one of her friends had either done or said something which deserved her anger, and that it was out of this reason he should say, he never said any thing unto her which might provoke her to treat him as she did: So that without moving him to tell me what I desired to know, I told him that Lysidice complained against him for causing her to lose one of her dearest friends. This accusation did at the first surprise Thrasiles, but afterwards he thought that Lysidice, because she would not tell me that he had spoken unto her of his Love, had invented this little lie to excuse it: So that giving no credit unto my words, he told me, that it was impossible Lysidice should think so of him, for he had been so far from making her lose any friend, that he ever wished all the world did adore her: She did not say (replied I, being angry that I was not credited) that you made her fall out with this friend; but she said, that you have either done or spoken something which hath made that friend fall out with her: I understand you worse than I did before (replied Thrasiles) do for I know that I am not naturally any Mischief-maker, nor any Tale-teller; and I am sure, I never spoke any thing of any body unto Lysidice: Certainly then, replied I, some or other hath done you an ill office to her: But Lyriana (said he and interrupted me) you think you did rightly understand her? Yes certainly Thrasiles, said I; and let me tell you, that if you do not quickly justify yourself, you will be excluded out of her favour: How can I justify myself, answered he, of an accusation which I understand not? To give you a good occasion, replied I, I will permit you to tell her, how I acquainted you that she complained against you, and that she said you were the cause of her falling out with one of her dearest friends; since she did not make her complaints any secret, but on the contrary, made a mystery of a thing which she might well have imparted to me, I am willing you should tell her it was I who told you, and so you may justify yourself: I spoke this so confidently unto Thrasiles, that he could not choose but believe me; and fancying more sweetness that Lysidice should be offended at him for any thing else, rather than at the Declaration of his love, he resolved to go the next morning unto her, and did so, and he we it so opportunely, that he found her alone: Since I hear from Lyriana Madam, said he unto her, that you make some complaints against me, and that you accuse me for causing you to lose one of your dearest friends, I come to know Madam whether it be true: Yes (replied she sharply) I did say all that Lyriana told you, but I have not yet said all I think upon the business: Why Madam (replied Thrasiles) Can you say that I did ●ver m●ke you lose any friend, I who have ever spoke enough to make all the world love: You have spoke that unto me, replied she, which is enough to make all the world love: You have spoke that unto me replied she, which is enough to make me break off with him. I would gladly know Madam, replied he, who this friend is, unto whom I have unwittingly done so ill an office: You shall quickly know him, said she, and all the world shall know that I will see him no more. But Madam, answered he, if this friend be faulty, you are unjust to grieve for him, and punish me: Lyriana, replied she, hath already said as much as you, but to no purpose: for I have better reasons then either of you for what I do. For Heaven's sake Madam, replied Thrasiles, tell me who this friend is, who on my score hath lost your favour? It is yourself, (replied she, and blushed for anger) who might have enjoyed my friendship as long as you had lived, and who hath forced me against my will to banish you, and also who hath deprived me for ever of your company, which was very pleasing, but which now is odious unto me. How Madam, answered Thrasiles, in a great amazement, Am I he? Yes certainly, replied She, You are, I beseech you Madam, said he, what did I ever say against myself that could move you to hate me? You have told me, said She, that you loved me, and that is enough. Yet I would gladly know, replied he, whether your anger proceeds from because I love you, or from because I was so bold as to tell you so: It proceeds, answered She, from because you told me so: for to be sincere, one cannot be angry at being loved,  
Then Madam, replied, Thrasiles, if it be not my passion which incenceth you, but only my bad expressions of it which angers you, I will not Madam, speak any more, and be contented to let you know it by my looks, by my services, and by all my actions. If you had done thus before, replied she, we had been friends: but since what's passed cannot be undone, I must do as I resolved: And indeed this was all that Thrasiles could obtain of Lysidice that day, and he parted from her in a belief that she would cast him off. Lysidice also for her part, thinking to see him no more. After Thrasiles was gone from her, he came to me, who was extremely desirous and impatient to know who this friend was who Lysidice was so much out with: Well Thrasiles, said I unto him, do you now know the name of him, unto whom you have done such ill offices? Yes Lyriana, said he, I do know him; and I come hither to tell you and to desire your pity for him. You see then, replied I, that I did not lie: Nor do I think, said She, that you told the truth. For Heaven's sake, said I unto him, explain this riddle. Thrasiles then, seeing I was very earnest with him; and hoping for some pity from me, began to acquaint me with his love to Lysidice: and afterwards to tell me of the passage between them, letting me understand that this friend whom Lysidice would banish, and himself, were both one and the same. Thrasiles had no sooner told me this, but I began extremely to pity him: Alas Thrasiles, said I unto him, how infinitely do I pity you for being in love with Lysidice? Rather pity me good Lyriana, said he, because she does not love me, and not because I love her: I assure you answered she, I pity you for both causes, and I know not whether or no you would be less miserable in her hate or in her love: for really Thrasiles, considering the peevish inequality of her humours, I do foresee you would be intolerably puzzled to endure them. Alas, replied he, so she would let me love her, I would endure them all. After this, I used all my arguments to dissuade Thrasiles from any longer loving Lysidice, but all in vain. However, he desired me to let him lament the miseries which he foresaw he was probably to endure; and I consented unto him. And indeed, after this, there grew a great amity betwixt him and me; insomuch as I dare say, that I knew his most secret thoughts. But to return unto Lysidice, you must know that though she resolved to banish Thrasiles; yet there was so much giddiness in her humour, that she altered her mind: And Madam, not to trouble you with too much impertinacies, Thrasiles was not banished: And Lysidice became one day in so sweet a humour, that She suffered him to love her: yet I think it may very well be said, that She allowed him this favour, to make him resent the toyishness of her humours with more sorrow. And indeed, I believe there was not a day after this on which Thrasyles did not find the truth of my predictions, in saying that his love to Lysidice would cost him abundance of sorrow: yet I must needs confess, that all his hours were not equally ill, but I think I may very well say, he suffered more in loving Lysidice, than he had done in loving all the three which formerly reigned in his heart: and that the foolery of the first, the engagement of the second, and the insensibility of the third, did not put him to so much trouble, as the inequality of Lysidices humours: For indeed he never knew in what state he stood, and could never tell in what disposition to find her mind, when he came to her. He thought some days that he had a deep share in her heart: She would impart a hundred particular passages unto him in a most sweet and obliging manner, insomuch as he would think himself sure of her affection: But at next meeting the case would be most miserably altered, and he would find her the most harsh, peevish, austeer, and cold woman in the world.  
And I must go a little further, and tell you how it was even ordinary for her to go into her Closet in a very good humour, and come out in an extreme bad one: And to set forth her unequal humours a little higher yet; She has several times had several discourses with Thrasiles, and has not ended with the same humour she begun, though there was no occasion in the earth given,, which could make her change it. When She was in the good fit, she would commend all that Thrasiles did, and nothing could anger her: and when she was in the bad, She would find fault with every syllable he spoke, and would be angry at every thing: sometimes she would complain of his passion, that it made too great a noise in the world: at other times She would have him do a hundred things to publish it, and She would very often quarrel with him for obeying her own commands. I remember one day amongst the rest when Lysidice was the most charming person upon earth, and the most complaisant, and falling into discourse of Feasts, Pleasures, and Walks, before five or six persons whom she loved very well, every one propounded their own diversion according to their own palate, so that Lysidice in her turn, after she had harkened unto the fancies of others, She began to comment upon them, and said that there was not one in all they had proposed which had not some inconveniency in them. As for dancing, said She, The trouble in matters of dressing themselves, the crowd one finds there, the setting up late, the spite to see another dance more, and to be more applanded, all these surpass the pleasure of it. As for music, it moves melancholy, or at least does so take up the spirits, that so long as it lasts, they can do nothing but hearken: also the pains of commending the music does always follow the pleasure. As for Grand-feasts, they are intolerable by reason of that glutting abundance in them, and by reason of that prodigious variety, which in having so much to choose of, doth take away the liberty of choice: yet acknowledging that walking came nearest her inclination, provided it was in delicious places and choice company; yet notwithstanding to content all the world, she could fancy such a feast, as should have all those pleasures which they had proposed, without any of the inconveniences which follow them. I pray, said I unto her, how would you contrive the business? First, said she, I would make choice of a most rare Garden, wherein were many murmuring and cooling Fountains, excellent Statues, shady Walks, open and airy Alleys, great Borders but of Flowers, close Arbours, and all that's excellent for a Garden: Also I would have it near a fair house: But after all this, I would have the liberty of naming all the persons to be present, whom I would order so handsomely in my choice, as they should not be weary of me, as I should not be weary of them, nor they weary of one another. After this not to be troubled with too much tricking and dressing: I would have all the Ladies there undressed: that there should be only so many Coaches as not to make a throng, that the dividing of companies should be suitable, and that every Coach should be filled with those who love best to be together: that none should be put to rise too soon in the morning: and that every one should come to the place, just to have so much time as to see the house before they sit down, and no more.  
Moreover, I would have the meat to be most tightly good without any superfluity: Then order should be observed, and that the odour of flowers should take away the smell of a feast. All dinner while I would have such music as is more fit to exhilerate the spirits, then to mollify the heart: also I would have the music in a loft by themselves, and not too near. After all this, I would have us pass into a cool handsome Chamber, and talk, till the Sun gives us leave to walk; after which every one should follow their own inclinations, and choose those places they like best. When night came, I would have us sup as we dined, but in a place where the murmur of Fountains might be heard: at rising from table, I would have return to walk again, and to content those who affected dancing; I would have two or three hundred crystal Lamps fixed in every Tree in a large Walk, to make the night day: Then to let the music draw near, and those that affected dancing, let them dance: without any hindrance to those that had a desire to sit down under a purling fountain, to follow their own humours. After which, without going too soon, or staying too late, I would have us return to Cumes, fully satisfied with all innocent delights, without any trouble and puzzle as usually follows such entertainments.  
Lysidice having done, every one agreed that such a journey as she expressed would be very pleasing; But said Thrasiles, to imagine such a thing is not enough, but it must be really effected before it be pleasant: For my part, said he, I will provide the Garden, the Music, and two repasts, in which shall be no superfluity. Lysidice hearing this offer, was the first who accepted of it, and so it was a thing resolved upon. Thrasiles taking upon him the charge and care of all the Feast, and Lysidice the choice of all the persons, who indeed were such as pleased her; at last they all had Summons, the day was appointed, Thrasiles ordered all things according to Lysidices expressions, excepting what related to the Table unto which he did not keep within his prescribed limits, for he was more magnificent in them.  
The day of this pleasure being come, all the Ladies were ready, and all the Coaches provided, but upon a sudden the whimsy did so take Lysidice, that after she had made a new Gown for that day, which was as gallant and gay as possible: After I say she was dressed, after she had put on her Hood, and ready to go, She changed her mind; She undressed herself, and went to bed, praying me to make her excuses unto the company, saying She was not well; but after I received this message, in lieu of doing as She bade me, I went unto her, and found her more waspish and melancholy then ever I saw her in my life. Since I understood by her women in the outer Chamber that she was well enough, and not at all sick, I went to her bedside, I drew the Curtain, and set open the Windows: Let me look in your eyes, said I unto her, and there see whether your disease be real or dissembled, for it is by them better than your tongue, that I can know it.  
But Madam, in lieu of finding the least languishiug paleness, I saw a fresh complexion, her hair so cur●ed, that much pains and art had been used, so that without any answer: No, no Lysidice, said I, I am sure you are not sick, and therefore you must rise and go along with us, and I will not let you be at rest till you rise. At first she answered me in a pitiful tone, but after she saw I did not believe her, she confessed she was not sick, but only said so, because she would not go with us: Fie, fie Lysidice, said I unto her; after you yourself proposed the business, after you have made choice of the Persons, after you have engaged Thrasiles unto much care and charge, all which he is at only for the love of you, can you put off thus? Fie, fie Lysidice, I profess I cannot endure it, and you shall absolutely go with us: Were this Feast made for any other than myself, replied she, I would go to it; but since I know it is intended only for me, I neither will nor can go, for I know that there's nothing does more put one out of countenance, then to be the Lady of the Feast: But I pray Lysidice, said I unto her, did you not know it was only intended for you, when it was first resolved upon? Yes, said she, and engaged myself before I had well considered upon it. But did you not consider upon it this morning before you dressed yourself, said I? No, said she, for as my woman as she was dressing me, told one, how one of the Ladies who was to be present should say, that she was not at all obliged unto Thrasiles for this Feast, but wholly unto me; this did so vex me, that I saw I had been very rashly inconsiderate in suffering Thrasiles to make this Feast, and that it was the most impertinent thing in the world to make myself beholding unto a man for all the pleasures which he give unto a great company, and for the satisfaction which men will receive, unto whom it is not intended: The truth is, I must be the debtor unto Thrasiles for all this Feast if I go unto it, for the Music, for the Dancing, and even to the very charges of the Candles, for the very coolness of the evening, and murmur of the Fountains. Fie Lyriana, this must not be, and I had much rather pay for all, then to acknowledge myself a debtor, as needs I must if I go; therefore Lyriana, as well as I love you, I must not be beholding unto Thrasiles for all the pleasures he provides you this day. Is it possible, said I unto her, that Lysidice should say so? Yes, replied she, and more than that, for Lysidice is as resolute in it, as ever she was of any thing in all her life. Then you make Thrasiles, said I unto her, most desperately sad: There will be so much good company (answered she) as he may very easily comfort himself without mine: You were rightly served (said I unto her) if he did, for he must needs be sensible of the affront which you put upon him: Let him do what he will, said she, so you will go and leave me at quiet. But Lysidice, said I unto her, though you do not consider Thrasiles, yet consider yourself, and think how your humour will be talked on: Let them say what they please, replied she, so they will let me do as I will. As she pronounced these last words, Thrasiles came in, and was astonished to find her in bed. Since he knew her now as well as myself, he imagined that this was only a fantastical humour, yet at first he did not express his thoughts. only asked her, how it came to pass she was such a sluggard, yet adding with a smile, that it was in some sort but just she should make them stay for her, on purpose to let them see that the Feast was prepared for her: It will appear, said she, that I have no great share in it, since I will not be there: I beseech you Madam, said he unto her, how comes this sudden alteration to pass since last night? Never accuse Lysidice of any alteration (said I in an angry mood) since she hath no reason in the world for it, but that she is still herself. Then did she tell Thrasiles that she was not well, but he did not believe her, and he Courted her in the sweetest and most persuasive language in the world, not to refuse him this favour, but all was in vain. Thrasiles then seeing all his persuasions and arguments could not prevail, proposed unto her to put it off until another day, but she did with abundance of violence forbid it. Then was Thrasiles so vexed, as he said, that since she would not go, he would not go neither; and for above half an hour I was in a belief, that neither she for whom the Feast was made, nor he that made it, would be present at it.  
But in conclusion She was so earnest with Thrasiles, that he himself should go, and She herself to stay behind, that obey her he must, and accordingly went unto this Feast without her. You may imagine Madam, in what a sullen humour Thrasiles was in all that day, yet he did bear out this peevish passage with abundance of patience, and as inconstant as he was reported to be, he did not desist from loving Lysidice, though in my opinion he had very great cause; but on the contrary, he desired me to tell all the company, that Lysidice was really sick, lest they should speak something of her which might be disadvantageous unto him. But the oddest Passage of all was, that the next day she would needs persuade him most unjustly, that he was very merry at the Feast, though he never seemed so melancholy in all his life, and charged him with a crime for obeying her in the entertainment of those Ladies which she herself made choice of. However, her waspish humour being over, She easily appeased Thrasiles. But since it was not possible the fantastical humour of Lysidice should be concealed, She made the love of Thrasiles to her more apparent, insomuch as one who was an Enemy unto Lysidice, and had a squint eye herself upon Thrasiles, did give it out, that Thrasiles did not only love Lysidice, but also that Lysidice suffered Thrasile▪ to love her: And She spoke this before so much company, that some friend of Lysidices did acquaint her with it: So that She never considering that it was only the reports of an Enemy, did take the matter as heinously, as if it had been the vulgar talk of all the Court, and charged Thrasyles never to see her again, yet She did a little moderate her doom, and confined him only not to see her at her own house: So that Thrasiles, who was all obedience, sought out all occasions of comfort to himself in seeing her at other places, either in the Temple, or in the Walks, or at other visits which she made, insomuch as though he did not see her at her own house, yet he saw her very often; but he did not long enjoy this favour wi●h any tranquillity for Lysidice, growing into a worse mood, began to be very harsh to him, and to think that he slighted her, since he came not to see her, though She positively commanded the contrary, and though he never in his life loved her more. In the mean time, Thrasyles seeing himself so coarsely treated, could not devise unto what to attribute the cause, and I believe would never have found it, unless he had by chance come unto 〈…〉 e when Lysidice was there, where casually I was speaking of a man in Court who was one of my friends: One of your friends (replied Lysidice sharply) how can that be, since I never see him with you? I do not say, replied I, that he is in the first rank of my friends; yet however, since I see him almost every day in several places, I may say he is my friend: Oh Lyriana, said she, you do strangely mistake yourself; for it is my opinion, that though I should see you every day at Philoxenes house, and not at mine, I should look upon you only as my friend's friend, and not my own. But if Lyriana should only aim at seeing Lysidice in Philoxenes Chamber, replied Thrasyle, what would you think of her then, I would then think, replied She, that She might have spared her labour, for I am not at all obliged unto her for it: There is such a notable difference between visits at ones own house, and visits at another's house, one is not Mistress of the conversation, but must submit in civility to the pleasure of her whose house it is. Moreover, when one is not at home, one is obliged to see a thousand persons whom they care not for meeting with, and who sometimes desire not to be seen. So that the humour taking me, as oft it doth, I shall be a whole after noon and not speak a word; and there is so great a difference between Lysidice in her own Chamber, a●p Lysidice in another's, as one would say she was two Lysidices: Yet (replied I and laughed) yet there is not necessity of being so different in yourself: However it be, said She, it cannot be denied, but that it is incomparably more sweet to have good company at home, than any where else; and that any one is fuller of life and spirit in ones own Chamber, then in another's. According to your Maxims Madam, replied Thrasyles, I am only to be the friend of your friend; You need not doubt it, replied She, and from this very hour I will look upon you as Lyriana's friend and not mine; for I do profess and declare unto you, that all the men I find abroad, do never make any particular impression upon my heart, and it would be an Age before I should look upon them as having any right unto their amity, but should rank such men in the Catalogue of my acquaintance, and not of my friends. But I beseech you Madam, replied Thrasyles, if one do forbid any one of their friends to come unto their house, does such a friend lose the glorious title and quality of friend, by being obedient unto their commands? Yes, replied She, if such a one will willingly be obedient in such a thing as might be disobeyed, without disobliging her who did command it. I know one of your friends, replied he, unto whom I will give this counsel: Be not too hasty, said she, for perhaps the counsel which I give in general, is not good for him you speak of in particular. The truth is Madam, Thrasyles did easily understand her, for since he had a mind to go the next day unto Lysidices, she did treat him most abominably ill, and told him, that since he would scarcely ever see her at her own house, he should not see her any where else, so that there was a fearful quarrel between them; but for all this, it ended to the apparent advantage of Thrasyles; for since that, he obtained leave to see her at her own house, as before. But Madam, it was to torment him more than ever he was before; for I am confident, that there was not one day on which the inequality of this fantastical woman did not torment him with a new punishment, the greatest cruelty was, that she would so smooth him up with her sweet and pleasant hours, that he could not for his life disengage his mind: For truly (said he one day unto me when I was persuading him to desist) were She always in her ill humours, I could easily break those bands which tie me to her service: But Lyriana, did you but know how amiable She is when She pleaseth, you would not wonder I should love her, maugre her fantastical inequality, and her good hours forceth me to endure her bad ones with patience. In the mean time I plainly see, this sweetness serves only to make me the more miserable. Thus Madam did Lysidice live with Thrasiles, who did a long time endure her impertinent inequalities; and I am very confident, that any other would have forsaken her sooner, yet I am most confidently persuaded, that until this last passage, he loved her in spite of her humours, but for it, he was not able to endure it, and certainly he had good reason; For Madam, be pleased to know, that Thrasiles taking her in the critical minute, when she was all sweetness and civilities, he won her to let him ask the consent of her Parents unto her Marriage with him. He had no sooner obtained this liberty, but being even ravished with joy, he went unto Niside, (for Father he had none long since) and moved her to transact with him. Niside who was extremely tender of her Son, did give him all desirable satisfaction, and spoke of it unto Lysidices Parents, who liked very well of this Alliance. So that imagining Thrasiles would never have put her upon this motion, unless he had known her mind before, they accepted the Proposition with much joy, not at all questioning but Lysidice would like of it as well as themselves; but it was not as they imagined: For Madam, this sickle humoured woman having altered her mind, since Thrasiles left her, disliked of that which before she approved of. 'Tis true, She writ a Letter of Revocation unto him, but he did not receive it until a quarter of an hour after he had received the favourable answer which Lysidices Parents gave unto Niside. I leave you to judge Madam, how this surprised Thrasiles, but his astonishment was much greater when he anderstood how Lysidice had declared herself that She would not marry, and when he understood that the Parents of this uncertain woman came to Ni●ide with a hundred excuses for engaging themselves so far as they had done, before they knew the mind of her who had the greatest interest in the business. Judge Madam, how Thrasiles should resent this affront which Lysidice put upon him, and whether he had not good cause to leave loving her; his anger was so great, that he made a solemn oath never to go unto her again, but absolutely to break off with her; yet I do verily believe, he would have violated his oath, had not I prevented him; but since I knew he would never find any joys in this most alterable humoured woman, I did so confirm him in his design, that he resolved to execute it. Since he had already found by experience, that absence was a good remedy against such diseases, he left Cumes, and at parting left this Letter for Lysidice, which contained these words.  
THRASILES unto LYSIDICE.  
Madam,  
SInce in loving you with a most constant violence, ever since I began to serve you, I cannot obtain your love: Perhaps in changing my mind, you will change also, and perhaps grieve for your loss: However, I depart from Cumes with a most strong resolution never to return until I have quite banished you out of my heart: Be most confidently assured, that if ever you see me again, it shall be without the least spark of love unto you: And if you never see me, it is because I cannot rid my heart of the most fervent passion that ever any was capable of.  
THRASILES.  
When Thrasiles, gave me this Letter for Lysidice, I know he desired an answer: but I must confess, I would not press her for one, lest if it should be writ in one of her good moods, it might re-engage him to love her, yet since he wished that she had it, I did deliver it, and made her read it in my presence: After which, I began to chide her a thousand times, and pressed her to tell me, why she would ever grant Thrasiles any such permission as She did, since it was against her mind. When I gave him that Permission, said She, I did really think it, and it was my very mind: But afterwards, when I considered this engagement which was to be as long as I lived, I found it fondness for one who could not tell in the morning what humour She should be in at night, to think that the same which pleased me now, should please me at the latter end of my life: so that it might perhaps have made me miserable, without contributing any thing unto the felicity of Thrasiles. For truly Lyriana, said She unto me, when I think upon the extreme perplexity I am in, when the humour takes me in a place out of which I cannot get: and how grieved I should be if after I were married unto Thrasiles, I should change my mind, and repent; I must needs protest, that as much as I esteem him, I am very glad he is out of Cumes: and shall hardly desire his return for the reason he expresseth in the conclusion of his Letter: yet Lysidice blushed as She pronounced these last words, and blushed so much as I could easily see her heart and her tongue were at odds. In the mean time I writ unto Thrasiles enough to cure him, yet for all that he was not so soon quit of that passion which tormented him: But during his absence I saw Lysidice remembered what he had writ, and believed that the reason why he returned not, was because he was still in love with her. That which induced me to think so, was, That Philoxene going into that Country where Thrasiles was, She came to bid me adieu just as Lysidice was in my chamber, so that falling into discourse of that solitude whereunto She was going, I told her that I thought her very happy in that She was to have the neighbourhood of such a most accomplished man as Thrasiles was. It's so long since he went out of Cumes, replied Philoxene, that it's very probable he will not stay long in the Country: Since you are in it, replied Lysidice, and smiled, it's to be thought he will not so soon leave it: For my part (replied I purposely to let Lysidice know I understood her) I am not of your opinion: for I think it very likely Philoxene will make Thrasiles come sooner unto Cumes, than you imagine. I must confess, said Philoxene, I do not well understand your meanings; for me thinks you both do commend me, and yet speak contrary to each other: It's a Riddle, said I unto her, which happily you may explain hereafter: If She do not return until Thrasiles returns, replied Lysidice and laughed, it will be a long time before She know what you mean. After this, and much other discourse which I remember no▪ Philoxene went away. But within a month after She was gone, as Lysidice and I were together, and coming o 〈…〉 of Atalia's house, who should we meet but Thrasiles, who saluted us very civilly as he passed by, but stayed not a jot with us. I no sooner saw him but I looked upon Lysidice, who as soon as ever She saw him changed colour: so that I turning to her, and speaking low lest our women should hear. Well Lysidice (said I unto her) did you think Thrasiles would ever return? Provided Philoxene did not send him, replied She, I do not care though he be returned: For my part, replied I, I care not upon what reason he return, so he think upon the end of his Letter which 〈◊〉 writ unto you. However it be, said She unto me, you would do me a great pleasure, if you would tell Thrasiles, I am much joyed at his return: I promise you I will, said I unto her, though on my conscience you are not so glad of it as you say you are. As we were thus talking, we came to a Lady's house unto whom we intended a visit: which done, I waited upon Lysidice to her own house, and returned to my own, where Thrasiles stayed for me: I no sooner saw him, but I seemed very joyful at his return: But yet, said I unto him, before my joys be full, I must know whether you be returned free from this thing called Love: for if you be not, believe me, in lieu of rejoicing, I shall be extremely grieved. Grieve then you must, said he unto me; for I was never more in love in all my life then now, and in all probabilities shall be so till death. Fie fie, Thrasyles, said I unto him, you are not so much Master of yourself as I imagined, nor care I for the friendship of a man, who since he can so easily forget injuries, can as easily forget good offices: But Thrasiles said I, have you forgot how you writ unto Lysidice, that you would never retur unto Cumes until you had left loving her? Pardon me good Lyriana, said he unto me, for I have kept my word. You are not then in love, as you say you are, replied I. I am more in love Lyriana, said he, than I say I am; yes, much more than I am able to say: But, my dear Lyriana, it is with Philoxene, and not with Lysidice, whom spite and reason banished out of my heart, before Philoxene came into the Country. Though it be not my custom, replied I, to be very glad that any of my friends should be in love; yet I profess I am infinitely joyed that you are in love with Philoxene, since it is an infallible argument you are not in love with Lysidice.  
After this, I began to vaunt that I should so foretell his passion; and I related unto him what Lysidice and I had said when Philoxene came to bid me adieu: After this he acquainted me, how having seen Philoxene every day since she came into the Country with all the freedom which the Country could afford: he had seen her more in a month there, than he should have done in Cumes in a whole year: and that indeed he had found that in her alone which he had vainly sought for in those four persons which formerly he had loved. How Thrasiles, said I unto him, Are you not only in love, but loved also? No, replied he, you do not well explain my words, for my meaning is, that Philoxene hath more good qualities than all the rest together have: And certainly Madam, Thrasyles had good reason thus to commend this lovely Widow, since questionless there cannot be a more accomplished person. Doubtless he might have found one of as great beauty, and as much wit, and spirit; but never any so without fault. For truth is, she had none: her beauty was infinitely pleasing, her behaviour was high, noble, and modest; her Phisognomy spoke goodness and sincerity: and there was such pretty mixture of mirth and seriousness together in her face, as did exceedingly become her: She had a million of charms in her humours, as many graces in her mind, and as many good qualities in her soul: virtue was always the end she aimed at in all her actions: She affected glory, She is most tender to her friends, She serves them with joy, and never disobliged any. It may be said her anger is an ornament unto her, in raising up some lovely blushes, but vanishing so soon as it will not give her time to do any injustice. It is impossible but to judge favourably of her: She is fair, She is young, She is rich, and She is a Widow: She knows so well how to regulate her life, that her reputation is high, though her virtue be neither savage nor austere; but on the contrary sweet and sociable. This Madam, was Philoxene, when Thrasiles began to love her, and this She is at this very day: yet I understand by him, that he durst not discover his passion unto her▪ but tells me, that he is fully persuaded She knows it, or at least suspects it. Since he came only unto Cumes upon some little business, and to let Lysidice know how he did not now love her, he stayed but three days, and returned to Philoxene.  
To tell you how vexed Lysidice was, is not an easy matter, especially when Philoxene returned to Cumes, and Thrasiles followed her the next day; for when she perceived that he was in love with this fair one, She was veved to the very soul. Then did she contract a great amity with Cleocrite, and both of them had a plot to make him pass in the world for the most unconstant man in it, hoping thereby to ruin him in the opinion of Philoxene: and indeed, I believe these reports which they had scattered abroad, did not do him much good nor hurt. But the great obstacle which Thrasiles met with in the mind of Philoxene, was not that: for indeed after he had served her a whole year with extreme assiduity and fidelity, She saw he was far from inconstancy: But Madam the love She had to liberty, kept her from the reception of Thrasiles his services: I know she esteemed him above all men living, and that if ever she married, Thrasiles would be her choice: But yet, for all this favourable inclination which apparently she had to him, She did not choose him, nor put him in any hopes: yet for all that Thrasiles whom they said was so unconstant, desisted not, but suffered all, because he did not find in her such things as stifles the very soul of Love: As the foolery of his first Mistress, the engagement of his second, the insensibility of the third, and the fantastical humours of the fourth: But he stood firm and constant to his loving her, and seemed as if he were resolved so to do as long as life was in him, and I am most confident it is true; for since Thrasiles loved Philoxene, his constancy hath been put unto all sorts of trials. First, it is certain, that Cleocrite and Lysidice either out of vanity, or malice, or some other reason, laid all the stratagems they could invent to disengage him for her, and to reduce him unto their services. Niside also for a while had a strong desire her Son should marry one of the fairest Ladies in the world, and much richer than Philoxene, yet his passion resisted against all, even absence itself, for he was three whole months in Milete, where the greatest Beauties in the world reside, yet he continued faithful, and returned to Cumes as much in love with her, as when he went away: Moreover, it cannot be said, that the favours of Philoxene did restrain him, for none could live more reservedlie, and use more severity than She did to him, though without any rudeness or incivility. Thus Madam it must consequently and necessarily be concluded, that Thrasiles may very well pass for a very constant man, though he have loved many Mistresses: Yet Madam, since friendship may be partial, I will suspend my judgement until you have pronounced your sentence.  
After Lyriana had finished her relation, Mandana did extremely commend her, and thanked her for her pleasing recital of Thrasiles his adventures, applauding her especially for epitomizing five several Loves into so short a method, as any one else would have made so many several stories. After which, ask Cyrus, the Prince Arta 〈…〉, and Aglatidas in what rank she should repute Thrasiles, they would not give her any counsel, but would leave it unto her judgement: So that appointing to let Cleocrite, Lysidice, A 〈…〉 jam, and Thrasiles to enter, it was found that Lysidice having altered her humour, since She went out of the Chamber of Mandana, was gone away, and had carried At 〈…〉 〈◊〉 her, and so there remained none but Thrasiles and Cleocrite, whose indifferent humour made her not care much whether Thrasiles should pass for a constant or an inconstant man; and accordingly She came into Mandana's Chamber with Thrasiles, as pleasant as if She valued not the indifferency whereof She imagined Lyriana had accused her. You see Madam, said she to the Princess Mandana, that as indifferent as they say I am, yet I am more full of revenge then either Lysidice or Atalia, since I myself do bring him in who is to be condemned: 'Tis more than you know, replied Thrasiles, whether I shall be condemned or justified: We shall know it presently, replied she, since it is the Princess who must teach me what I ought to think of you: I assure you, replied Mandana, that if you regulate your thoughts by mine, you will think nothing that is advantageous to him: For indeed, added the Princess, after a serious consideration of the several changes which hath been in Thrasiles, I do not find him so clear as I did imagine; therefore without either favour or injustice, I do doom him to be named 
The unconstant man, without inconstancy.   
The Judgement is so just, replied Cyrus, that I cannot think the fair Cleocrite will murmur at it, nor that Thrasiles will complain: Since the name of Inconstant is his doom, replied Cleocrite, I should be injurious to murmur: And for my part, said Thrasiles, since the most wise Princess in the world declares me to be without inconstancy, I have good reason to be satisfied, and to commend her Justice: Since I have pleased you both, replied Mandana, I have done more than I thought I should, but certainly done that which I desired. As she said so, Philoxene entered, and Cleocrite went out: But as Mandana observed that Anaxaris thought himself obliged by the favours she did unto Thrasiles, she took occasion to speak unto Philoxene in his behalf; and the occasion did the more fitly present itself, because Philoxene knowing that the Army was to march very shortly, she come unto the Princess, beseeching her to obtain from Cyrus a Protection for a fair house which she had, which stood just in the way they were to march. Cyrus' for his particular, did so love to do all good offices for unfortunate Lovers, that he spoke very much unto Philoxene in behalf of Thrasyles, insomuch, as though she had till than very resolutely defended her liberty, both against Thrasyles, and against her own inclination, began now to 〈…〉 unto the Conqueror of Asia. And indeed Thrasiles did thrive so well under the 〈…〉tion of Cyrus and Mandana, that within three days after the match was made up, and their Marriage was honoured with the presence of Mandana and Cyrus, But though all the Ladies in Cumes were invited, there came none but Cleocrite and Lysidice of all the Mistresses of Thrasiles: The first of these, because all things being indifferent unto her except pleasures, she would not lose such a feast of joy, and Lysidice, because coming thither accidentally, and being in a merry humour, she thought it would be most glorious for her not to express any sorrows for the loss of Thrasiles. In the mean time, those who were sent to the Xanthians, and the Caunians, being returned, and reporting that they received all the conditions with joy, there was now no obstacle to the departure of Mandana, for such haste was made in the preparations of all things requisite to her journey, as that all things would be in readiness within a day or two. To lose no time, Cyrus gave out all necessary orders, either for the march of the Army, or for the departure of the two Fleets which were in the Port, or to dismiss the messengers from the Prince Philoxippes, and the Prince of Cicilie, with thanks to their Masters. But whilst hope did so nourish the joys of Cyrus, as the engagement with the King of Assiria never troubled him; Mazares and Anaxaris seeing the dismal day of Mandana's departure drew near, they were extremely sad; for when they considered that the end of their voyage would be the beginning of felicity unto Cyrus, and the end of his miseries, their sorrows were beyond all expressions; yet there was abundance of difference between the thoughts of these two Rivals, and one and the same beauty, and one and the same Passion produced in them effects very unresemblant. Anaxaris without any hopes, was so bewitched with his passion, as he could not for his life resist it: But as for Mazares, he did so continually strive with himself and his passion, that it was impossible for man to do more. Anaxaris to be more in Love, if it were possible, did see the Princess as much as ever he could: Mazares on the contrary, was so afraid of a beauty which was above his virtue, as he did most carefully avoid all occasions of seeing her: Indeed, he had never any particular discourse with this Princess, since she was delivered; but the night before their departure, Cyrus being busy in writing to the Queen of Corinth, to the Prince Philoxippes, to the Prince of Cicilie, and in giving orders for securing Cumes, and dispatching the Deputies from Susiana, so it happened, that Mazares being then with Mandana, he was insensibly engaged to be alone with her. At first there was a great a silence observed between them, for the Princess remembering how this Prince in whom she trusted had betrayed her, and how she never was alone with him since he carried her away, she began to blush, and Mazares for his part, seeing he was alone with that Princess whom he extremely loved, and whose greatest miseries he had caused, he found in his heart so much love, and so much shame both, as he was a long time before he could tell what to say unto her; but at last, not foreseeing what the sequel of his discourse would be, he began to speak unto this Princess.  
Though I doubt not Madam, said he unto her. but since you have honoured me with the promise of your friendship, and to let me enjoy it as I did at Babylon, you will be as good as your word, since I have kept mine with you; yet Madam, I cannot choose but beg new assurances of it: For truly Madam, when I think how unworthy of it I have made myself. I dare not trust either unto your promises or your generosity; and methinks I have reason to fear, that since you cannot restore me to your esteem, you cannot restore me to your friendship. Since I find you the same at Cumes, replied Mandana, that you were at Babylon, I will quite forget all that passed at Sinope, and rank you amongst my dearest friends: The Crime I did commit against you was so great, replied Mazares, as I dare not hope you can forget it, unless you know something more that may extenuate it; for truly Madam, you do not yet know two things which I do most humbly beseech you to let me now acquaint you with, and which questionless will the more willingly induce you to restore me unto that esteem and friendship which you are pleased to promise me. It is sufficient for that (replied Mandana) that you have repent, and that you are resolved to keep within those thoughts that now you have: No Madam, replied Mazares, my repentance is not enough, since it does only repair my Crime, but the two things which I have to tell you will lessen it: Then tell them, replied the Princess, for I assure you I should be very glad of new causes to esteem you: Since you are pleased to permit me Madam, replied Mazares, I must tell you, that it was passion which made me 〈…〉 ninal against you. Methinks, replied Mandana, and blushed, that this is but a bad way to me to restore you unto my esteem and friendship, since it revives in my memory a thing which made you lose them: I beseech you Madam (replied Mazares, seeing the disorder in her face) do not fear that I will ever repent of my repentance, and do not imagine I pretend, that the passion (whose grandeur I would have you know) shall serve me unto any other end, then to lessen the crime which I committed in carrying you away. No Madam, I promise you never to tell you the thoughts of my heart as long as I live: and that I will never ask any thing from you but this esteem and friendship which you promised me: But for Heaven's sake Madam, give me leave only once to tell you with what imperious violence you commanded in my heart, when you ravished away my virtue.  
This is a favour which Cyrus himself, if I asked would not deny; but would give me leave to tell it: for I profess Madam I desire not to talk to you of that love which made me criminal, out of hope of any recompense: but only to lessen my punishment, and to justify myself: I do not beg permission Madam, to tell you that I love you, I desire only to let you know, that I did love you to such a height, as that I was out of my wits when I carried you away from Sinope: To the end, that if you do not look upon me as a wicked wretch, who sinned without any provocation or repugnancy, you may the more easily keep your word with me. If to believe you loved me (replied the Princess) be all that's requisite, I had rather confess it, then doubt of it: to the end I may spare myself the pains of harkening unto a discourse which cannot please me, nor be at all advantageous unto you: However Madam, said he, I beseech you let the greatness of my crime convince you of the greatness of my love which moved me to commit it. I pray Mazares, said Mandana, and interrupted him, do not infuse any scruple in my mind, to poison that friendship and esteem I would have of you: and know, that the more you perswade me that you loved me, the more I shall think you did not love me, and the less share will you have in my friendship; therefore do not expose yourself unto a thing which perhaps may make you lose it: For heaven's sake Madam, replied Mazares, do not threaten me with such a dire adventure, but give me leave to acquaint you with my real thoughts; to the end you may entertain no unjust ones of me. Think Madam, I conjure you, that I would never speak any thing that should displease you: and that I court nothing but your esteem and friendship; and that I will eternally fight against myself in your behalf; that I will regulate my thoughts as I do my words: I will forbid my eyes to show you the thoughts of my heart: and for a testimony of my reverend esteem of you. I will serve Cyrus as if I had never been his Rival. Judge Madam, after this, whether you can be so severe as to deny me the favour which I ask; for I protest Madam, that this is the last time of all my life that ever I will speak unto you concerning myself: I will engage myself never to pronounce the word Love in your presence: but I beseech you, let me assure you, that since love hath caused me to commit these crimes, that I could never have done it, unless it had been forced by such a violent passion, as that which forced me to forget my reverence of you. But for all this Madam, I must tell you, that never was repentance more real than mine▪ nor more fit to repair a great crime; for there is nothing upon earth which I would not do, rather than to give you the least cause of suspicion that I do entertain one thought which might render myself unworthy of that glorious friendship, which you have done me the honour to promise me, & which I beg with all imaginable zeal, and possible respect. Mazares pronounced these words in such a serious manner, as Mandana having no mind to insult over a Prince whose passion only had made him miserable, did answer him with as much civility as virtue: and spoke unto him in such a generous manner, that if the love of Mazares had been capable of becoming friendship, he had made the exchange at her instance: But though he was not able to regulate the thoughts of his heart, yet he did as much as ever he could, and did regulate his words: And solemnly protested unto Mandana never to speak unto her again of that love he had unto her at Babylon; to the end She might give him new assurances of her esteem, and friendship, which Mazares received with joy, though not withoht a sigh: For truly if this Prince had been only the friend of Mandana, She had given him language obliging enough to content him: but since he was still her Lover, it was impossible the friendship and esteem of this Princess should ever make him happy, though out of his reason and virtue he did look upon this friendship of hers as the utmost term of his desires, and limits of his hopes. In the mean time, the hour of their departure being come, Mandana after she had received the compliments of all the Cumean Ladies, did mount into a glorious triumphant Chariot, none but Martesia with her; all the rest of her women being in another Coaches which followed her. Anaxaris who commanded her Guard, did immediately follow; and as for Cyrus, Mazares, Artamis, and all the Volunders, they did m 〈…〉 a Body by themselves some twenty paces before Mandana The Prince Thrasibulus, T 〈…〉 anes, and Philocles, would not embark until they had waited upon Cyrus and Mandana a days journey out of Cumes, but they would by no means permit them, and they were forced to obey. The parting of Cyrus and Thrasibulus was very tender; as for Thimochares, he charged him with so many obliging things to tell the Queen of Corinth, as it was evident he did highly esteem that Princess: he did not content himself with all this, but said more unto Philocles then unto Thimochares: also he willed Ligdamis, Thrasibulus, Menecrates, Parmanides, and Philistion, to leave him, and to return unto those who for his sake they quitted as soon as they married them: There was not one of them upon whom he did not bestow a thousand thanks and rich Presents, as well as upon the jealous Leontidas, who returned unto Cyprus. As for the generous Megabates, though the way of Army was partly his, yet Cyrus would hinder him so much as to go so softly: for remembering that the illustrious Aristeus told him that he was in love with the Philonide, he would by all means have him take his time; and at parting, did him all the honours that his Quality and rare merit deserved, the Princess Mandana also honouring him with all possible civilities.  
In the mean time, Cyrus who set a higher rate upon his honour then his life, did fear that if the King of Assyria should be released, and come to Cumes after his departure, he might perhaps imagine that he would not perform his word, since he took the way towards Ecbatane: therefore he left a man in Cumes, with Orders to stay there until the King of Assyria came, and to deliver him a Letter, by which he assured him, that he would not fail in the least tittle of his promise: so that omitting nothing which he owed either unto his glory, or unto Mandana, he satisfied both differing duties. For the greater security of this Princess, he so ordered his march, as that she was to be always in the midst of his Army, that he could not imagine any enemy he had reason to fear. When this Princess came out of Cumes, all the people flocked together in the streets, who having had trial of Cyrus his clemency, did make the Air ring with acclamations of praises and thanks: This magnificence was worthy of sight, and worthy her for whom it was made, in respect of the great number of Soldiers; the abundance of Camels which carried the baggage, the richness of their Sumpter clothes, the glorious Chariot of Mandana, and the multitude of Heroes about her. Since Thybarra was in the way, Cyrus resolved to rest there a day, lest the Princess should be too much wearied: of which, the Prince Myrsyles was not a little glad, in hopes to find Doralisa there, with whom was Arianita, whom Mandana also was glad to see again, though she had not fowd her so faithful as Martesia: This Princess also was very glad she should see two Persons whom Panthea dearly loved, meaning Doralisa and Pherenice: Never was journey fuller of pleasure then this; one might see in the face of all the Soldiers such a sprightly jollity, as that they marched with abundance of alacrity, and as if they rejoiced to be at the end of all their labours and travels: one might plainly see, that though they were not really crowned with Laurels, yet that they were returned victors, and that nothing had resisted them: Mandana for her part, imagining every pace to bring her nearer the King her Father, and not further from Cyrus, was so abundantly satisfied, as that she found a notable difference between this voyage, and those she had made with the King of Assyria,, and the King of Pontus. Cyrus' for his particular, thinking that Ciaxares could not deny him Mandana, had no other inquietude, but how to vanquish the King of Assyria: And there was not one in all the Army, except Mazares and Anaxaris, who rejoiced not at the carrying of Mandana, unto Medea. In the mean time those of Thybarra made a most magnificent entertainment for the Princess, at her entrance. Cyrus' presented Doralisa and Pherenice unto her; And She received them as persons unto whom She was obliged when She was at Susa: making very much also of Lyriana, and forgetting her past infidelity. Since Mandana was full of generosity, she was not able to look upon Dorolisa & Pherenice, without some sighs in the memory of the Susanean Queen: conjuring them both to keep about her, the same place they did about Panthea: And indeed they did so, for Mandana did oblige Dorolisa's Aunt to let her Niece go along with her: and Pherenice was very willing to follow such a Princess as the Queen of Susiana had dearly loved; so that at the departure from Thyabarra, the Princess Myrsiles was joyed to see that Doralisa was to go this journey; and that he might have the happiness sometimes to talk with her. But as for Andramites, in lieu of rejoicing, he grieved: for having discovered that the Prince Myrsiles loved Doralisa, he had rather not see her, than his Rival should be always in her eye. In the mean while, since the Monument which he had caused to be erected in memory of Abradates and Panthea, was not far off, Cyrus went very early before the Princess waked to see whether his Orders concerning it were executed: desiring also to render the last honour unto a King, who dying in his quarrel had left him a Kingdom, and unto a Queen, of whom he had a most particular esteem. Since he resolved to go very fast, that he might return again before the Princess Mandana was ready to depart, he carried with him only Aglatidas, Chrisantes, Feraulas, and five or six others.  
When he was come to the Monument of Abradates, and lighted from his Horse, he saw that he had been punctually obeyed, that the order of it was right, the Architecture stately, the inscriptions such as he had appointed, and that they had forgot nothing to eternize the memory of those renowned persons, whose Ashes it enclosed, and the acknowled gments of him who caused it to be built; the sight of this Monument did fill his soul full of melancholy thoughts, deep studies seized upon him, and after he had looked upon it, he walked a long time about it, and spoke not a word, the Company not daring to interrupt him, kept themselves some twelve paces off, and spoke not a word neither. As he was thus contemplating the deplorable destiny of Abradates and Panthea, and was thinking in what a miserable condition he was when he lost them, he heard a great noise of horses coming towards him, which caused him to turn his head, and he saw five or six Horsemen coming towards this Monument, in the head of whom was the King of Assiria, who being no less surprised to find Cyrus there, then Cyrus was to see him, alighted from horse and advanced towards him, with all the civility that could be expected from a man unto his Deliverer, but yet with all the sharpness of a miserable and incensed Rival. Since it does ill become a Prince (said he unto Cyrus after he had saluted him) who expects you should keep promise with him, to fail in his duty, I must begin in discourse with my gratitude; and though you be my Enemy, yet I must thank you for the liberty which now I do enjoy: Since I have done nothing but what I ought Sir, replied Cyrus, you may spare your thanks, unless it be for commanding Hidaspes to procure your liberty as soon as possibly he could: Hidaspes (replied the King of Assiria) hath most exactly executed your Orders; for Arsa nonce having refused to release me, he delivered me by surprising the Castle when I was Prisoner: So that I am forced to confess you have done a most heroic Act in it, and that if it were possible I could cease being your Enemy, it would be upon this occasion; but I am confident, that your affection unto Mandana will easily hint unto you, that I cannot change my thoughts either of her or you, and that you will take no other advantage from my liberty, but to be the sooner in a condition to fight with me: I am obliged Sir, replied Cyrus, to interpret my own actions, as I would do yours upon the like encounter, since certainly I intended nothing in your releasement, but that you should enjoy your liberty freely, nor did I expect any acknowledgements for doing a thing which Honour invited me unto; and to testify that I had no intentions to spare myself a Combat by delivering you, you must know, that at my parting from Cumes I left a Letter for you, to the end you may be assured that I was ready to keep my word: Since so, replied the King of Assiria, you must tell me Sir when you will have me keep mine; for since it hath not been the will of Fate that I should be so soon released, as to help you in the releasement of Mandana, and since you have a new right unto her, which I cannot dispute, yet before you can be a quiet possessor of her and all Asia in general, you must be Vanquisher of me in particular; therefore if you please Sir, let us end that controversy to morrow morning near the Monument of Abradates, which was begun at Sinope in the Temple of Mars. I know very well (pursued he) that I owe you Sir my life and liberty; but I know withal, that as the condition whereunto you have brought me stands, I cannot be more miserable; nor am I insensible how I speak unto you in the midst of your Army, and that the few Forces I have are not able to secure me; but since I know you, I need not fear any thing; therefore without any further consideration, what the sequel of our Combat will be, I beseech you let me see you as soon as you can with a Sword in your hand: Should I humour my own inclination (replied Cyrus very sharply) I should quickly satisfy your impatience and my own, and I should not stir off the ground I stand on, before I were either Conqueror or Conquered. But as earnest as my desires are to end the difference that begun at Sinope, there is a most prevalent reason which moves me to desire a little time before I give you satisfaction, and I desire it the rather, because I do not fail in my word by it, for I did promise to fight with you before ever I marry Mandana, and I do promise still not to fail, but I never promised to fight before I had put her into a place of safety; you know how many battles I have fought to release her, and would you have me leave her in the midst of an Army composed of different Nations, in a Country newly conquered, in the midst of so many newly subjected Princes, who gape for occasions of revolt? Fie; no, no; neither love nor honour will permit me to do so; and therefore you must needs let me carry the Princess into a place of safety: But when I have carried her into Medea, if I do not return to fight you, count me for the basest coward of all men living; and to speak rationally, your own interest as well as Mandana's requires I should do thus, for if the Fate of Arms should make you Conqueror, what safety can you find in the midst of an Army whose General you have killed? No, no, answered the King of Assiria sharply, mingle not my interest with Mandana's, for I know that whether I be Conqueror or Conquered, I can never hope for any thing from Mandana, She hated me in Babylon before you enthroned me, and certainly She would not love me if I should kill you; so that I would not fight with you in any hopes to enjoy her, but I would overcome you if I could, and so keep you from enjoying her; so that for my part all places of Combat are to me indifferent, since Conqueror or Conquered, I cannot expect any thing from Mandana: The Gods (pursued this violent Prince) have deluded me by their Oracles, but do not you delude me by your words, and rid yourself of an Enemy who is infinitely obliged, but ungrateful to you, who envies all that you enjoy, who cannot brook your glory, and who would pull your heart out, so he could pull Mandana's out of it; therefore Sir never study so much for reason in the business, for I know all you can produce as well as if you told them, and if you be Conquered, perhaps Mandana will not be without a Protector: Did you know Sir (said Cyrus and interrupted him) how much it is against my mind to oppose your desire, you would see I desire to give you satisfaction as much as you; but I must confess, that since it concerns the safety of the Princess, I cannot think I ought to do it: Since I know your heart, replied the King of Assyria, I do not entertain a disadvantageous thought of you: But I know not, added he harshly, whether all the world will think so, when they shall know how you defer fight, and whether they will not think it strange that you should go to Ecbatan, as if your intentions were, either to arrest me there, or to cause yourself to be arrested. Have I not told you (replied Cyrus, and blushed for anger) that I will only conduct the Princess unto Ecbatan; and that you have been in safety in Ciaxares his Army, when he was there himself in person, though he knew what I had promised you. Forbear then, unjust Prince that you are, to tell me of such things as I cannot hear without fury, and without preferring my honour before my love, which I ought not to do: And forbear you (replied the King of Assyria) to make a miserable Prince languish, who hath nothing to hope for but your death and his own, and force him not to tell some disadvantageous lie of you: Fie, fie, said Cyrus, this is too much to be endured, and I cannot any longer resist either against myself, or against you, but both my reason and my love must submit. Know therefore most assuredly, that ere I be four days older, you shall be either my Conqueror, or I yours; that is as much as to say (pursued the King of Assyria) as that either you or I must die for it: Our Combat should be to morrow, if I could (pursued Cyrus) but since it cannot possibly be so soon, I must take a little longer time. In the mean time, to the end that those who see us, may not suspect any thing of our design, let us go unto them, and go together unto the Castle where the Princess is, and doubtless stays for me to depart: I will do so, said the King of Assyria, though heaven knows it is the most cruel thing in the world for me to go and see Cyrus' Triumphant with Mandana; but I pray remember, that a Rival may be ungrateful, and still be generous, to the end that if I be overcome by you, you may not slain my reputation in speaking of me to our Princess: I do not know, replied Cyrus, that it is permittable to be ungrateful in any business, but I am sure that neither you nor I am so now; but since you are so earnest, I promise you again, that within this four days the fate of Arms shall decide your Fortune and mine for ever.  
After this, these two furious Rivals took Horses, and putting on more calm countenances, the better to hide their design, they took their way towards Mandana, who not foreseeing the misfortune which threatened her, had dressed herself, and was talking very pleasantly with Doralisa, Pherenice, Mazares, and Anaxaris.    
The end of the Seventh Part.   

ARTAMENES, OR, THE GRAND CYRUS. THE EIGHTH PART.  

BOOK. I.  
THE Princess Mandana was no sooner ready, but according to her Pious Custom, she would go to the Temple, before she departed: So that Mazanes leading her by the hand, she went out of her Chamber: But she was no sooner upon the top of the stairs, but she saw the King of Assiria lighting from his Horse at the other side of the Court, & who never staying for Cyrus, hasted towards her, before she could get into her Coach. Mandana's wonder was so great, that in lieu of going forward, she stopped, and gave this unfortunate Prince time enough to come unto her, with the same reverence he used to observe, maugre the impetuosity of his humour, and violence of his Passion. I make no doubt Madam (said he unto her, after he had saluted her) but my sight doth both surprise and displease you, and that I am still the object of your anger and hatred: But since the King your Father suffers me to be in his Army, as great an Offender as I am both against him & you: and since Cyrus can endure me, as much his Rival as I am, I shall hope you will give me leave to wait upon you: and that since for the love of you I have lost all, you will not deny me the favour to be one of your Convoy, especially since you allow the same favour unto the Prince Mazanes, who hath been as great an Offender as myself.  
The Prince Mazanes replied Mandana, having washed away his crime by a generous repentance, is now in the number of my friends, and not my persecutors. But however it be Sir. I do assure you Sir, I had rather see you in the King my Father's Army, then see you in Babylon again. When you came Sir, I was going to render thanks unto the gods for delivering me out of your power, and giving me that liberty which you had lost me: As if you will be advised by me, you shall be as acknowledging as myself, and thank them you have an Enemy so generous as to let you enjoy a benefit which you took from me, and which yourself had lost. Since the Gods are just (replied the King of Assyria fiercely) they will recompense the generosity of my Rival: And Madam you must give me leave to ask them nothing, but to be revenged of your extreme inhumanity. Unjust Prayers (replied Cyrus, who was not till now come up to them) do seldom reach the ears of the Gods, but to punish those which make them, and therefore take heed how you ask them any thing against the Prencesse, and if you have any revenging thoughts, pray let it light upon me.  
Whilst Cyrus was talking thus, the Princess took Coach, and took Doralisa, Pherenece, and Martesia with her: After which she went unto the Temple, and Cyrus the King of Assyria, Mazanes, Myrsyles, Anaxaris, Andrumelis, Chrisentes, Feraulas, and many others followed him: As long as the Sacrifice lasted, the Princess was so zealously devoted unto the Gods, as she never turned her head or eyes upon any of the company: all whom, being not so intent at their prayers as she was, had thoughts as different as were their Interests. The heart of Cyrus was wholly upon the ruin of his Rival, whose presence interrupted all his Joys: The King of Assyria, though full of impatiency to see Cyrus with his sword in his hand, yet he had a kind of delight to see Mandana, but it was delight without any tranqulity: And if his mind was upon the Gods whilst he was in the Temple, it was in praying for the death of Cyrus, the enjoyment of Mandana, for the Crown he had lost, and to be revenged upon Mazanes: Indeed it may be said that he murmured rather then prayed. As for Anaxaris whose flaming passion was the more violent, because it was smothered and concealed, he wished that these two Rivals might ruin each other, or he them both: and though he could not imagine which way in all the world he could pretend any thing unto Mandana, yet he was most desperately in love with her, and prayed to the Gods most zealously that she might love him. As for Mazanes, his virtue was so confined and confirmed, as howsoever he loved the Princess of Medea, yet he asked no more from the hands of the Gods, but that he might have her esteem and friendship; and he had so accustomed himself unto combats with his own desires, as he durst not suffer the least impertinent wish proceed from the root of his heart. But it was nothing so with the Prince Myrsyles, which did most fervently pray unto the Gods to change the heart of the severe and insensible Doralisa, and neither thought nor asked for any thing else. As for Andrumelis, who was no less in love with this fair one than he was, his desires went something further, for he equally prayed for the ruin of his Rival Myrsyles, and the enjoyment of his Mistress Doralisa. As for Chrisantes and Feraulas, who knew of the engagement that was between Cyrus & the King of Assyria: they consulted with each other, whether or no they should acquaint the Princess Mandana with it, and prayed unto the Gods that this invincible Hero might have as glorious success in this dangerous occasion, as in all the rest he ever undertook. As for Doralisa, Pherenece; and Martesia, all their prayers were for the Princess whom they waited upon, knowing that they could never expect any happiness unless she were so: The truth is, all these different persons did make such different prayers, that the Gods whom they invoked could not accord unto them all: They were like unto those upon the Sea, some with designs of going Eastward, and some Westward, and pray for contrary winds, as each did need: So Mandana, the King of Assyria, Cyrus, Mazanes, Anaxaris, did all of them ask the Gods point blank contrary unto each other, and by consequence, impossibilities.  
The sacrifice being ended, the Princess returned to the Castle, but she stayed not there, purposely to shun the King of Assyria's company; yet before she departed, she would needs know of Cyrus, how he met with his Rival, and chidd him a little for his over-generosity in releasing his most mortal enemy. Had he been only your enemy, said she, I should not have had any right to accuse you; but since he is my persecutor, me thinks I have cause to complain against you as over-generous.  
The King your Father, Madam, hath set me such a glorious example, replied Cyrus, as I were most unworthy of your esteem, if I did not imitate him. And truly Madam, (added he) if you did but know what joy it is unto me to see you put so great a difference between the King of Assyria and Cyrus, you would not wonder I should give myself so much satisfaction.  
But for all that, I beseech you Madam do not alter your thoughts, nor too much pity the miserable condition, wherein the King your Father's Armies hath brought my Assyrian Rival: For I must confess, though Compassion be a quality becoming such an heroic heart as yours Madam; and since it doth so infinitely concern me that your heart be hardened towards him, yet I cannot wish you should have any pity upon him.  
I do assure you Sir, replied Mandana, that I cannot be very inclinable to pity a Prince who hath caused all the miseries of my Life: but in relation to yourself, said she, I must needs sometimes think, that looking upon him as the cause of all your Conquests, and that great glory which you have gotten, you should hate him a little less; For truly had he not carried me away, you had never taken Babylon, you had never brought all Assyria into subjection, you had not conquered Armenia, you had not vanquished Croesus, taken Sardis, subjected all Lydia, the Xanthians, the Cauneans, the Joneans, the Ghedeans; you had not taken Cumes, nor ever have been the Conqueror of all Asia: 'Tis true, Madam, replied Cyrus, but however I should have still been prostrate at your feet, adoring you, and my endeavours, my sighs and services might perhaps have engaged your heart more than it is: so that I may say, my Conquest had been far more glorious unto me by them, then by the Arms of Ciaxares your Father. I could if I would (replied the Princess Mandana) answer you obligingly enough, and tell you, that in taking Babylon, Artaxates, Sardis and Cumes, you have perhaps gained my heart more, than you had done by your sighs and services without them, but I am too ill satisfied with you to do so: Not that I would have you now change way of dealing with the Assyrian King, since he is at liberty: but I must confess, I should not have been sorry if you had not released him: and I had rather I could have chidden you for your too little generosity, then for your too much. However I do conjure you, added she, not to be far from me; for if you go and visit any more Monuments, I shall fear that you will bring back the King of Pontus with you, and therefore I pray let no such thing come to pass. Not that I think the King of Assyria to be in any Condition able to attempt any thing against me, unless it be in attempting something against you: but yet for all that his presence is so tormentive unto me, that I stand in need of yours to comfort me.  
Cyrus' hearing Mandana speak thus, feared that she suspected something of the truth: Therefore to clear all matters, he answered her, as if he had not any angry thought in his mind against the King of Assyria. It seems Madam, said he unto her, you would have me comfort myself with the sight of an Enemy, who as you say is the cause of so many glorious advantages unto me? However it be, replied this Princess, Let me always see you, whersoever I shall see him, until I come unto such a place where I may obtain of the King my Father to banish him, as I do intend: As for yourself, as troublesome as his presence is unto me, I would not have you attempt any thing to free me from him Since he is a cause why you Madam do treat me so well (replied Cyrus, and laughed) I shall most willinly obey you. After this the Princess went into her Coach with Doralisa and Martesia; Pherenece and Arianeta and the rest of the Princess her women, went in another Coach which followed hers.  
In the mean while, Cyrus, whose thoughts were upon all that related unto the safety of Mandana, and the execution of his design, he altered the orders of his march, and caused the Assyrian Troops to be placed on the wings, and as fair off the Princess as possible: Also he gave particular orders unto Anaxaris, to have a special guard upon Mandana; not thinking that in being so cautious against one Rival, he trusted her with another. On the other side Chrisantes and Feraulas had not yet acquainted Martesia with Cyrus and the King of Assyria's engagement, but resolved to acquaint her at night, to the end that she making it known unto the Princess, she might by her sovereign authority oblige all the Princes in the Army to have vigilant eyes, and become guards over these two terrible Rivals. Yet though they had not spoken of it unto Martesia, since she was a woman of an excellent spirit, the King of Assyria's arrival did make her very melancholy; for she was better acquainted with the violence of his temper, than Mandana was, from whom he was observant to hide it. Yet for all that she did strive with herself, that her vexation might not appear to the Princess; I he pleasant humours of Doralisa did much facilitate her concealment of her thoughts; for whilst Mandana was musing, and studying upon her own thoughts, she would descant upon the thoughts of all the Princes which rid by Mandana's Coach by the Air of their Countenances; and she had such pleasant fancies upon them, which suited so patt to their adventures, and unto their garbs, that Martesia not being able to forbear laughing, did put the Princess out of her dumpish musing; who being desirous to know what it was which made them so merry, she caused Martesia to repeat all that Doralisa thought of Cyrus, of the King of Assyria, of Mazanes, of the Prince Artamas, and of all the rest they had talked of. But I beseech you tell me (said Mandana to her, when she saw the Prince Myrsyles, and Andramches near her Coach) what are the thoughts of these two Captives, whom your beauty hath taken? and whether Cupid hath made them Equals by making them Rivals, since the one's a Subject, the other a Sovereign? Alas Madam, replied Doralisa, I cannot tell what they think; and I am so far from knowing it, that I have done as much as ever I can, not to understand what they said, when they spoke unto me as intelligibly as they could. But Madam, in lieu of telling you what they think upon, I will if you please tell you what I think of them. I believe Doralisa (replied the Princess) that you will be so far from sincerity in such a business, as I will not oblige you to tell me any lies: but I had much rather you would tell me, what you fancy they think of you, than what you think of them. Since you will needs have it so Madam (replied Doralisa, and laughed) I shall tell you; That to see with what a gloomy countenance Andramches looks upon the Prince Myrsyles, I think he is very sorry this Prince is not still dumb: and to see how earnestly that Prince doth talk with others, makes me think, that if he have talked upon any matters of Love, it is only because he takes a delight in talking of something which he never talked of before: After this, Mandana began to chide with Doralisa, and to make her tell her whether she did not use to talk more seriously and more obligingly unto a Prince so accomplished as he was, whose heart she had captivated.  
But whilst Doralisa was diverting Mandana with her pleasant humours, and had her Quibbles of wit, upon a thousand passages, and every object, Cyrus was thinking how he should keep touch with the King of Assyria as soon as possible, and imagining how he should slink aside from so many men as were continually about him. But his greatest care was, to contrive it so, that in case he was vanquished, than the King of Assyria to have no power in disposing of the Princess. However, he was much perplexed; For honour would not permit him to impart a business of this nature unto many men: and therefore he took a middle course, and told all the chief Commanders only thus much, that the King of Assyria's presence did move him to have a more especial care of Mandana's safety: he conjured them to remember the Fidelity which they owed unto Ciaxares, and whatsoever happened, never to fail in that. Yet he thought not this enough: But the high esteem he had of Anaxaris, prompted him to impart the secret unto him; for since he was Captain of the Guard unto the Princess, he thought him the fittest to trust with her, and that it was by him he might get out to fight with the Assyrian King: And therefore Mandana was no sooner come unto the place where she was to lie; and as soon as Anaxaris according to his Custom had placed his Guards, he sent for him, and began to talk in private with him: At the first, Anaxaris knowing by the action of that Prince, he had something of great importance to say unto him, did imagine that his own eyes had betrayed him, and that Cyrus had dived into the bottom of his heart, and discovered the flaming and smothering Passion in it: But he was not long in this error; for as soon as ever Cyrus and he were together, he began to talk unto him: Doubtless Sir, said he unto him, though you be a stranger unto me, yet certainly you are a man of extraordinary virtue, and uncommon fidelity, since I am resolved to trust you with a business, which is a thousand times more dear unto me than my life, for it concerns my honour: And since I know you to be a man both brave and generous, I question not but that you will carry yourself in such an important business as this, as you ought to do: But yet, as highly as I esteem you, and as gteat an opinion as I have of your honesty, I cannot trust you with the secret, until you have made a solemn oath unto me never to reveal it, nor never do or say any thing which might raise the least suspicion of it, especially unto the Princess who of all in the world ought not to know of it. Sir, said Anaxaris, (much amazed, and impatient to hear what Cyrus would say) since honour doth sufficiently oblige one to conceal the secrets of another: And since none are Master but of their own secrets, I may with some justice complain of you, for exacting from me an oath never to speak of what you will please to honour me with the trust. Yet Sir, to testify how easily I can do what is my duty: I will promise you with all the sincerity of a man who never uses to betray his trust, never to speak what you shall impart.  
After this, Cyrus embracing Anaxaris, asked him pardon for the wrong he did his virtue, in not trusting him at first: but my dear Anaxaris (said he unto him) did you but know what a contention there is in my heart, between my love of Mandana, and my love of honour, and what turbulent agitation these two violent Passions do at this present cause in it, doubtless you will excuse me, especially if ever you were in Love: But that you may o'er clearly pardon me, I must open my soul unto you, and acquaint you with the cause of that injury which I have done unto your Fidelity. After this, he acquainted Anaxaris in few words, with the promise he had made with the Assyrian King upon the Tower at Sinope, and how he had since confirmed that promise at the Monument of Abradutes. You may judge (added Cyrus) that such a secret as this ought not to be revealed: Most true Sir, replied Anaxaris, but he who discovers it, may give the man who he trusts share with him in the glory, by letting him partake of his peril. That's not my design Sir, replied Cyrus, but the thing which I require of you generous Anaxaris, is, that you solemnly swear unto me, that if the King of Assyria do Conquer me, you will with all your power keep the Princess Mandana out of his: For since I cannot be vanquished but by death, I am very confident that if he become my Conqueror, he will do all he can to sow fedition amongst the Soldiers, purposely to become Master of the Princess. And therefore apprehending, that an Army composed of so many several Nations, and people newly conquered, wherein also are some Assyrian Forces, may be apt to mutiny, I thought it necessary that you, who have got much credit amongst the Soldiers, and has an especial care of the Princess, should be acquainted with the state of things; to the end that multiplying your Cares, you may make sure of your Soldiers: And that I may leave orders with you to show unto all the Commanders 〈◊〉 the Army, if I should fall in the Fight which I am to make, and which most certainly I shall make very shortly, since having taken but four days, whereof one is already past, I will before the last keep punctual touch with the Assyrian King. Anaxaris hearing this was much joyed, that he desired nothing which he could not easily promise, and which he could not keep, though he was somewhat ashamed that he could not choose but be a Rival unto a Prince who treated him so obligingly. But at last, striving with himself to hide the agitation of his spirits, he promised Cyrus, with all the zeal of a man that was resolved to keep promise, that he would die a thousand deaths, rather than the King of Assyria should ever have Mandana in his power, if it so happened that he were Conqueror. Oh my dear Anaxaris (said Cyrus then unto him) the assurance which you give me doth so elevate my heart, that I am confident I shall vanquish the King of Assyria, since now I do not fear he shall triumph over Mandana, though the fate of Arms should let him triumph over me: Yes yes, my dear Anaxaris, I shall owe unto you all the glory I shall get in vanquishing my Rival if I do surmount him; for really, if I should have fought in fear, that my death would have put Mandana in his power, I should have been half overcome before I ever fought: But since you promise me to employ the same valour wherewith you have done such miracles, and whereof I am a witness and an admirer, in behalf of the Princess, I shall never fear my Rival will ever rejoice in the fruits of his Victory, nor do I fear he can vanquish me.  
Moreover I remember, my generous Anaxaris, that Mandana is a debtor unto you already for her liberty; and this I would have you now do, is not more difficult than that you did in the Castle of Cumes. Sir, replied Anaxaris, could you but see my heart, you would never offer to oblige me by any more new promises, nor would you doubt but that I am resolved to die for the Princess Mandana's service. Be confident therefore Sir, I beseech you, that as long as I am living, she shall never come under the King of Assyria's power: but Sir, I believe I shall never need to defend her against him; for if I be not much mistaken, his valour will thrive no better against you this second time, than it did the first: but I am confident you will overcome him now as you did before. If I do overcome him (replied Cyrus) than Sir, I will come and give you thanks for my victory: so that whether I be Conqueror, or conquered, I shall be still obliged to you, and the Princess will be infinitely your debtor. If I be vanquisher; I promise you to let her know her obligations; and if I be vanquished, since she herself must be both Witness and Judge of your valour, doubtless she will acknowledge your merits, and consequently, my dear Anaxaris, your own virtue will purchase you the esteem of the most illustrious Princess upon earth. Yet remember above all, to be faithful unto me: you know how delicate a thing this honour is, therefore for Heaven's sake Sir, do for mine, as you would have me do for yours: Yet this is not all Anaxaris that I require of you, for it must be by your means that I must rid myself of so many eyes as are upon me, that I may steal from them to go and fight with the King of Assyria, which you may easily do by a way which I have contrived, and which I shall acquaint yond with when time is fit: Oh Sir replied Anaxaris, should the Princess know that I should facilitate your Combat, she would extremely hate me; since she shall never know it, replied Cyrus, you will not be exposed unto any danger of it: but though she should come to know it, I would engage myself to make your peace if I be not vanquished.  
After this, Cyrus, and Anaxaris parted; the first of these was well satisfied with his confidence in Anaxaris: and the second had his heart so full of different apprehensions, as that he was not able to master them: The confidence which Cyrus put in him, made him ashamed that he did not give him a sincere answer; but his affection to Mandana, stuffed so full of fancies contrary unto that, as sometimes he could not choose but be overjoyed, that these two Rivals were ready to ruin each other. Yet since his soul was of a brave and generous composition, he stifled his Joys as much as he could, and condemned his own thoughts: Fie fie, unworthy Anaxaris, would he say unto himself, canst thou suffer thy heart basely to rejoice, that two of the most valiant Princes in the world are ready to kill each other? and that thou shouldst be rid of two Rivals at once without any danger to thyself? Repent, repent for shame of thy ignominious weakness: and if these two Princes be any obstacle unto thy designs, do not wish that they should ruin each other, to the end that thou mayst have the honour of ruining them thyself.  
But alas, unhappy Anaxaris said he, and sighed, how vainly art thou base in thy wishes? For though Cyrus & the Assyrian K. were both dead, yet Mandana is still none of thine: and thou hast more reason to think she will never be any ones, but that the death of Cyrus will cause hers: But what do I say? (said he, and reprehended himself) I do very unjustly accuse myself; For indeed I cannot conceive that honour forbids me to rejoice at the loss of a Rival, as long as this joy is no cause of it: wait then with hopes, the success of this furious Combat, between two of the greatest Princes upon Earth, disputing for the possession of the fairest Princess in the World: But alas, unfortunate Anaxaris (added he) how much sorrow will the end of this Combat cause thee? For if Cyrus be vanquished, thou wilt see Mandana swimming in tears for him: thou wilt hear all her sighs and doleful complaints, and wilt be a witness of all her sorrows; if Cyrus be Conquer or, than thou wilt hear all her applauds of him, thou wilt be a witness of all those testimonies of esteem which she will give him, and thou wilt with thy own eyes perhaps find as much Love in hers to him, as there is in thy heart to her. Think therefore of it Anaxaris, consider seriously, and resolve to vanquish thyself: Conslder how many great things ought to possess thy mind, and that Love is not the passion which at this present aught to reign in thy soul: Do not deceive thyself as thou dost others, and do not think thyself to be Anaxaris: Remember, that thou hast a name more illustrious, which must have all the glory, and that this of Anaxaris which thou hast borrowed, must not be always thine; Never brand it with a piece of folly in obstinately loving Mandana, who will never love thee. But who knows, said he (and reprehended himself) what the Fates have resolved of thee? Perhaps they have reserved for thee all the Victories of Cyrus. The Princess whom thou adorest does not hate thee, she thinks herself much obliged unto thee, and the only man upon earth that hath any share in her heart, as exposing himself unto eminent danger. Leave then the conduct of thy life unto the same Gods, who breathed thy Love into thy soul: and without committing any business, act nothing against thyself on the passion which possesseth thee.  
But whilst Anaxaris was thus consulting with himself, Christanes and Feraulas were seeking for an opportunity of speaking unto Martesia, and of disposing her to tell the Princess of the promise which Cyrus made unto the King of Assyria, upon the Tower of Synope: But do what they could, they could not get a sight of her, because Mandana to avoid the sight of the Assyrian King, would see none that night, nor suffer Martesia to leave her.  
On the other side, Cyrus, whose greatest pressure of mind was how to fight with his Rival, he resolved it should be the next day, whilst the Princess was at Dinner: so as he employed the rest of that night in making sure of all those whom he thought fittest to oppose all the violences of the Assyrian King, if the Fate of Arms would have him subjected by him: Yet was it so handsomely carried, that he gave not the least suspicion of his secret design, colouring the matter only with the King of Assyria's presence.  
But to the end his Rival should not long wait for his promised satisfaction, he told him that the day following should make it appear which was Conqueror, and which was conquered: hinting unto him the time and place where he should expect his satisfaction: So that this violent Prince seeing himself n●er his fatal time which was to decide all Controversies between Cyrus and himself, his heart began to beat high, he roused up all his hatred, his jealousy, and his fury, as a better preparative to fight. He called into his memory all the rigours of Mandana, and as much as in him lay did forget that he owed his Life and Liberty unto his Rival: So that stirring up all the wormwood of his miseries, and setting an edge upon his anger, the fury of his heart did more appear in his eyes then usual: and indeed, he found that he was so little Master of himself, as fearing lest he should discover the secret, and be an obstacle unto his own design if he were seen, he would not expose himself the next morning unto sight. But since his turbulent humour would not let him rest long in a place, as soon as it was day he took horse, and would take the Air until the time he knew Mandana would set out: so that without any with him but a Page, he went to consult with his own thoughts by a River's side not far off.  
In the mean time Chrisantes and Feraulas no sooner knew that Martesia was gone into her Chamber, but they went unto her, and acquainted her, that they thought it requisite she should acquaint the Princess as handsomely as commonly she used with the business: Alas said she unto them, how difficult a task it is to acquaint her with such bad news, and not extremely trouble her? but since it would be an ill piece of service to spare her this trouble, because it might perhaps expose her unto a greater, I will leave you, and put her to it. As Martesia said so, and made herself ready to leave Chrisantes and Feraulas, she understood by Arianita, that Cyrus having received some Letters from Ciaxares, he was gone into Mandana's Chamber, so that Martesia could not speak unto her. The conference between this Princess and Cyrus being very long, and did not end until it was time to go unto the Temple, he waited upon her thither, and back again. Whilst they were there, Cyrus did a little wonder that he saw not the King of Assyria who was not wont to be from Mandana, when he could be with her: But his wonder was much more at his return from Church, when being upon the top of the Castle stairs where the Princess lay, he saw five or six Soldiers to bring this King extremely wounded▪ his amazement was so great, that he was not able to express it: and the Princess turning aside her head, and seeing it also, her surprise was as great as his: Martesia also, who stood behind Mandana had her share in the admiration, but it was mixed with some Joys, since this accident put Cyrus in safety. Anaxaris on the contrary, he grieved at this misfortune which happened unto the Assyrian King, because it did at least defer his Combat with Cyrus: And though he had a will to choke any thought that was opposite to generosity, yet he was not able, especially because Mandana and Cyrus were together, and in sight.  
In the mean time, those who carried the King of Assyria, could not carry him to his Lodging, but they must needs pass by the half Pace where Mandana and Cyrus stood, therefore this fatal Lover could not choose but see them: So that being both extremely ashamed and angry to be seen in that condition, both by his Mistress and his Rival, he blushed for very anger, though he had lost much blood: He strove to seem less wounded than he was, insomuch as turning himself a little towards the Princess with more respect than his salute was able to bear; and shunning the eyes of Cyrus because he would not receive his Civilities, he appeared very angry and furious. However, since the Princess had not any mind to insult upon a miserable man, she went into her Chamber, and Cyrus asked leave to go and know, who it was that wounded the King of Assyria; for truly Madam, said he unto her, this Enemy is of such a rank as requires this Civility from me. And having the honour to command the King your Father's Army, its fit I know all passages in it, and prevent all injustice. I shall not be against any reasonable civility, replied Mandana, provided it be not over long, nor hinder me from departing within an hour. After this Cyrus left her, and went unto the place where they carried the Assyrian King; but being told that he was dressing, he would not see him until the Surgeons came from him: As they came out of his Chamber, Cyrus asked them how he did, and they answered him, that of three wounds which he had received, the most dangerous was in his right arm, which was very ill, and they would not answer for it; telling him further, how that the Prince desired them to say, he was not in any danger. After this Cyrus went unto the King of Assyria's chamber, who was calling one of his men to send unto him: So as he no sooner saw him, but striving not to seem weak, or dangerously wounded, I am glad Sir, said he unto him, that you have taken so much pains as to come & see me: And truly Sir, replied Cyrus, I am very sorry you should be in such a Condition, as obligeth me to render you this visit. Trouble not yourself so much for my hurts (replied this furious Prince in a low voice, lest any should hear but Cyrus) for if I be not much mistaken, I shall be well before you can come at Ecbatane. Though I should come there before that, replied Cyrus, it should not make me start from my promise. I conjure you not (answered the King of Assyria) And to oblige you unto it, know Sir, that though this hurt in my right Arm were greater than it is, & that I had lost the use of it, yet I would fight with you with my left hand rather then voluntarily yield the Princess unto you; for there is a fatal necessity in it, you must either be my Conqueror, or I yours: To testify unto you Sir, replied Cyrus, that I donot wish to spare a fight with you upon the score of your hurts, nor to any advantage of that weakness which your wounds have caused, I beseech you take as long time as you please to recover in, and make choice of whom you will to keep you company: but I beseech you Sir tell me, what Hero, or what Assassinate hath brought you into this Condition? Certainly you will have it from the mouth of my Conqueror (replied the King of Assyria sharply) for I make no question but Intaphernes will come ere long, and ask a recompense of you, for ridding you of an Enemy, though he fought only upon his own score, but yet he has reason Sir to give you thanks for his victory; for if my extreme desire to vanquish him presently, that I might fight with you also this day had not made me run head long into his Arms, as brave as he is, he had not so easily vanquished me. Since I have such experience of your valour Sir, replied Cyrus, I shall easily believe what you say. In the mean time, I assure you, that if the Prince Intaphernes were not the son of Gadates, unto whom I stand bound in many obligations, I should hardly receive him well, as accomplished as he can be, since he is the cause our Combat is deferred; but because I will not myself defer, by augmenting your pain with too long a visit; You shall give me leave to retire after a second confirmation of my promise, not to fail in the least tittle of my word; and after I have assured you, I will appoint some of my men to wait upon you with as much respect as upon myself, and to have as great care of your life, as if it were absolutely necessary unto my felicity.  
Most noble Rival, said the King of Assyria (lifting up his eyes to heaven) do not over-load me with your generosity; but let it suffice, you have promised me not to fail in your word.  
After this, the violent King of Assyria not being able any longer to master himself, turned boisterously on the other side, and began to accuse the Fates for being so opposite unto all he desired. And Cyrus, having no more to say unto him, went out of his Chamber commanding those that were to wait upon him, to have especial care of him. Thus this generous minded Prince, in point of perfect magnanimity took care for the preservation of an Enemy, who wished not for life, but to be his death: But Cyrus was no sooner out of his Rival's Lodging then this unfortunate King called for one of his men, and sent him unto the Princess Mandana, to tell her he was very sorry he could not wait upon her as he designed: but that he hoped to overtake her before she cawe to Ecbatane: Yet conjuring her, that if he was mistaken in his Conjectures, and died of his wounds, she would be pleased to favour him so far as not to rejoice at his death. The man who was to deliver this odd message, did very hastily perform his Commission: yet he found the Princess ready to take Coach, and Cyrus with her, rendering her an account of the Assyrian Kings condition: But she no sooner received this Message, than she prepared to answer him that brought it; Tell the King your Master, said she unto him, that I never use to rejoice at the death of my greatest Enemies, because I cannot do it without a piece of inhumanity: but withal assure him, that I should exceedingly rejoice, if in the recovery of his wounds, he should recover the health of his mind as well as the health of his body:  
After this, Mandana, with Doralisa, Pherenice, and Martesia took Coach, and departed immediately: And then Cyrus took Horse, with all the rest of the Princes, except Mazanes, who stayed a quarter of an hour behind the rest to visit the King of Assyria, but he found him in such a fretting and distempered humour, as he was forced to leave him presently, so as he quickly overtook the Princess Mandana. In the mean time, Cyrus having left order with one to send him exact word of the Assyrian Kings condition, and to send it secretly for some Reasons best known to himself. He also sent to seek Gadates, and to tell him that it was his son who had wounded the King of Assyria, and to ask him if he knew where he was: Sir (said Gadates unto him as they rid) I did write unto him by the Messenger of Arsamenes, and commanded him to come and pay some of my obligations unto you, by rendering you some considerable services; knowing, that since the King of Bythinia had now no Wars in his Dominions, he would willingly come hither; but since that I heard nothing of him: It is credible, replied Cyrus, that we shall shortly see him: For by the manner of the King of Assyria's speech, I collected that Intaphernes was not wounded.  
Though the King of Assyria (replied Gadates, and sighed) hath heretofore given my son a thousand causes of complaint, in the life time of the Queen Nitocris: and though its likely he hath given him some since in Bythinia, yet I must needs be sorry both for his Combat and his Victory; For indeed, since he was born his vassal, unless he were forced to fight, he ought not to have fought with him.  
You speak with so much wisdom, replied Cyrus, as it is not credible, that the son of a man so prudent as Gadates, would ever make any undiscreet combat, and I can assure you, that he has no 〈…〉 anquished the King of Assyria without glory.  
Whilst Cyrus and Gadates were thus talking and riding together, Croesus and the King of Hyrcania discoursed together upon the virtues of Cyrus: The Prince Myrsiles and the Prince Artamas did also sweetly communicate the passions of each others souls unto each other; The first of these affirming that Love might still subsist without any hope: And the second maintaining, that whosoever doth truly love, doth not cease being a Lover, in becoming a Husband.  
As for Mazanes, when he overtook the Troops, he marched and discoursed with none, having enough to contemplate upon in his own thoughts, without the converse of others.  
On the other side, Anaxaris, whose soul was tossed with a thousand various thoughts, and seeking out for one to be the Confident of his heart, he talked with Andramites, whose spirit pleased him, and whom he knew did particularly esteem him. And indeed the truth was, Andramites had as strong a desire to answer the Amity of Anaxaris, as Anaxaris had to enjoy his.  
Again, Chrisantes and Feraulas, seeing the King of Assyria was wounded, and that dangerously: Also that they were far enough from him, they told Martesia before she went into Mandana's Coach, that they would not have her impaart the business unto the Princess, since it would but trouble her to no purpose, considering the King of Assyria's estate: so that Martesia assuming her ordinary humour, and Dcralisa continuing her usual jollity, that days journey was very pleasantly passed over: It might well be said, that the Country had decked itself in its best ornaments to place so many Gallants as fortune had assembled together; for all the Province through which they traveled, was a pattern for an exquisite Painter to draw a Landscape by. The Rivers were most delightfully twined amongst pleasant Meadows, set with Osyers' and Willows upon the Banks: The Plains through which they passed were neither too vastly open, nor so close as to make them solitary: The Villages were such as were full of pretty Cataracts of water, purling Springs, and pleasing Shades: The Hills over which they passed were nothing rough and rocky, but afforded most delightful prospects of Towns, Villages, Houses, Rivers, Woods, Ways, and men travelling in them; abundance of grazing Flocks, many magnificent Buildings, huge Rocks afar off, and the Sea the furthest: Insomuch as though the Princess had wanted the company of those three excellent persons who were so amiable, and so full of diversions, yet she might have found enough in the very variety of the Country to feed her eyes withal, and to contemplate upon, without any melancholy: And she passed over that day with more pleasure, than she had done a long time before, and so soon, that at her journey's end, she did not think she had gone above half the way.  
But that this day's Journey might end more pleasingly, chance would have it so, that as she came out of her Coach to go into a house of Sacrifice, which was the fairest in all the Town, she spied coming out of this house into which she was to enter, a man of a most admirable Grab, who both by his habit and aspect seemed to be a man of noble quality: But her wonder was, to see him slink out of a backdoor, and in lieu of coming towards her, he took another way, though she could not imagine upon what design.  
But she was not long in this wonder; for no sooner was she in her Chamber, but Cyrus brought this stranger unto her whom Gadates presented unto him: I think it sufficient Madam (said this Prince unto her in presenting this illustrious stranger) I tell you, that he whom I bring unto you is son unto the wise and generous Gadates: This I say Madam, will be enough to make way for his reception as a man of most rare merits. It is most true Sir, replied she, for to let me know, that it is the Prince Intaphernes, is sufficient to move me unto a high esteem of him: But yet (said she very sweetly, and looked upon Cyrus) I know not whether I should give credit unto your words: For Sir, how can I imagine that a man who hath fought such a Combat, and overcome such a furious Enemy as the King of Assyria, should be in such a condition as I see him? Since Madam, it is fortune (answered Intaphernes most modestly) which decides combats, she often makes them Conquerors, which should be conquered: And to say the very truth Madam, I am a debtor unto you as well as unto the illustrious Cyrus for my victory; for certainly the reason why the King of Assyria is not my Conqueror, is, because the Gods would not suffer a Prince who is an Enemy unto the one, and a persecutor of the other to be fortunate in any thing: so that Madam, since I am Victor only by you, it is without any glory unto me: and if I did not hope to merit your esteem by some considerable service more than by this act of your virtue, not my valour, I should be very sorry: Modesty does so well become true valour (replied Mandana) as I must needs extremely commend you for speaking with so much moderation of a business which might make a thought of vanity excusable in any other heart but that of Intaphernes.  
After this, Mandana to alter the discourse, lest the King of Assyria should be any subject of it, began to talk of the Princess Istrina his Sister, and of the Princess of Bithynia, and to ask him whether Arsamenes was still resolved never to consent unto the marriage of the Prince Spitridates with the Princess Araminta? He is so far Madam from consenting unto it, replied Intaphernes, as I believe him capable of any thing sooner than that Alliance: and if you did but know his actions during the imprisonment of the Prince Spitridates, and the imprisonment of the Assyrian King, you would not doubt Madam of what I say.  
Cyrus' hearing Intaphernes speak thus, had a good mind to say that Arsamenes was injurious, not to let Spitridates marry one of the most virtuous Princesses upon earth: But remembering that Mandana had some sparks of Jealousy in her mind, he durst not commend her enough at that time, and only said, that Arsamenes was unworthy of that favour which the Gods had showed him, in restoring him to his Dominions, since he treated so ill his son who was one of the most illustrious Princes in the world. Mandana then would have engaged Intaphernes to tell her, how Arsamenes arrested Spitridates the second time, how he got out of prison, and why the King of Bythinia arrested the King of Assyria? But he answered her that these were things which could not be related in few words: For indeed Madam, said he unto her, before I can acquaint you with the thoughts of Arsamenes, it is requisite I should relate unto you the several interests of four or five persons, who have not the honour to be so well known unto you, as that you should desire to know them.  
After this Cyrus endeavoured to engage him only in a relation of the cause of the Combat with the Assyrian King; but he could not oblige him to it, this Prince telling him that that quarrel begun at Babylon during the life of the Queen Nitocris, and that the story would be too long to trouble the Princess Mandana with the hearing of it. Intaphernes saying so, he rather augmented then diminished the curiosity of Mandana and Cyrus, yet they would not then press him any further, conceiving there might be many passages which he would not speak of before so much company, so that the rest of that discourse was all upon things indifferent: But Intaphernes was found to be a man of such an admirable spirit, that he purchased a high form in the esteem of Mandana and Cyrus, and of all the rest of the Princes: he also won much upon Doralisa's esteem, which was a thing she never bestowed upon slight grounds; But as for Martesia, she did not content herself with bare esteem, for she did ever love him, thinking she could not do any less for a man, who in conquering the King of Assyria, had quitted her of a necessity in telling the Princess Mandana a thing that would have extremely troubled her: So that not acquainting him with the cause, she lived with him, as if they had been of old acquaintance; She did him also good offices in talking very advantageously of him unto the Princess Mandana: But to say truth, it needed not; for Intaphernes was very amiable, a man of great courage and wit, so that his presence did much contribute to the pleasure of the Journey.  
In the mean time Mandana having observed some terms of friendship to be between Intaphernes and Martesia, and being also very desirous to know the sequel of that Prince's life, the beginning whereof she knew at Babylon, she commanded Martesia to endeavour the knowledge of all passages.  
On the other side, since it nearly concerned Cyrus, not to be ignorant in any thing wherein his Rival had an interest, he entreated Intaphernes to tell him all passages in Bythinia concerning the imprisonment and liberty of the Assyrian King, wondering much that Hydaspes should not return with him, nor send unto him: Sir (said Intaphernes unto him) The business you desire to know is of such a nature, as it is impossible you should know it without some sad thoughts. For I cannot acquaint you with the passages in Bythinia whilst the King of Assyria was prisoner but I must also acquaint you, how never any gave greater testimonies of his love then this Prince unto the Princess Mandana; Ju●● then Sir whether I had not reason to deny the Princess a relation which I cannot make, unless I should do your Rival and your Enemy a good office: Generous Intaphernes (said Cyrus) I am infinitely obliged unto you for denying what I asked, since you cannot do it unless you favour the King of Assyria: I beseech you keep still in the same mind, and never satisfy the Princess Mandana's curiosity: Not that I am at all injuriously jealous of her, but because it is the most difficult thing in the world to let the person whom one loves, know any expressions of the Rival's love: and I had rather Mandana should accuse me of some fault, then know that my Rival hath given any testimonies of his Love.  
Then she must never know (replied Intaphernes) what hath passed in Bythinia: No, I conjure you, replied Cyrus, but I must confess I desire to know it myself, and I know not whether my sorrows to hear that my Rival hath had an occasion to signalise his love, be above the pleasure of satisfying my curiosity.  
As Intaphernes ready to reply, a second Post came from Ciaxares: But whereas the first came with thanks unto Cyrus for releasing Mandana; this acquainted him, that Thomiris being recovered of a long languishing disease, did revive her first designs against Medea, and that the general Rendezvous of her Forces was some three days march from Araxes. This news which had extremely perplexed Cyrus, had it come during the siege of Cumes, did never trouble him now Mandana was released: and he believed that the reports of her liberty would alter the design of that incensed Queen, so that without any disquiet at this news, his only care was to conceal it from the Princess Mandana, lest it should trouble her. In the mean time his cares of keeping Intaphernes from letting the Princess know all, that what he told her the next day before she departed, was a cause that she came sooner to know it; For as Martesia did divers times press Intaphernes unto it, he did so earnestly forbid him, as this made her more earnest to know it: But why Sir (would she say unto him) will you not be pleased to honour me so far, as to tell me this which I have so vehement a desire to know? Do you think Sir I do not know the beginning of your life? believe me Sir, I have been too long at Babylon to be ignorant of it: and to testify unto you that I do know it, I will, if you please, repeat word for word all that long and sharp language which passed between you and the King of Assyria in the time of the Queen Nitocris, when you argued in defence of the brown Beauties against the fair; and when he gave you such words as provoked you to answer him in such a manner, as made it appear you had a heart too high for a Subject, or at least for a Vassal  
Since you are so well acquainted with my life (said he, and would have civilly put her off) what would you have me tell you more? I would have you Sir acquaint me, replied she, with your adventures in Bythinia: Alas, Amiable Martesia (said he) do not ask me that, for indeed I cannot consent unto it. Intaphernes uttered these words in such a tone, as moved Martesia to think that he had some reasons for it, so that her curiosity was much more eager than before. That which did most exasperate her, was the Princess Mandana's prompting her to perform her promise which she made to get it out of him: this Princess wittily twitting her with want of wit to bring it to pass: and since it was in the Coach, and in presence of Doralisa, that she thus jeered her, she was even mad upon it: For my part (said Doralisa, seeing it pleased the Princess to torment her) If I did attempt to get the friendship of any one, as I see you have courted Intaphernes for his, I should be extremely ashamed to thrive in it no better; for as full of Charms as you are; I see you have but small power over him, since he refuseth to tell you a thing, which doubtless all Bythinia knows: I have been as solicitous Madam (replied Martesia, and looked upon Mandana) as if my design were to Court the love of the Prince Intaphernes: As for matter of Love replied the Princess, I do not think you can be charged; but I am sure it must be confessed, that either you have very ill obeyed me, or the Prince Intaphernes hath very ill obeyed you. Alas Madam replied Martesia, since I have no right to command him, I have no way but to be contented, and have recourse unto my prayers; Alas Martesia (said Doralisa, and interrupted her) It seems Intaphernes hath treated you worse than I did imagine, since in my opinion it is a greater offence to deny a request, then to disobey a command; and to speak sincerely, my heart does naturally so hate to be commanded any thing, as I should much more readily pardon such as reject my commands, than such as deny my requests: Therefore, since you have requested, and requested in vain, it does extremely touch your honour to be thus denied by the Prince Intaphernes. But Martesia (replied Mandana) if you use no other stratage 〈…〉 to get out of him what I desire to know, but prayers, you have not done enough; for there are some certain things which you must seem as if you did not desire to know them: Did you but know Madam, replied Martesia, what I have done, you would be satisfied with my endeavours. The more you have done (replied Doralisa) the more you may be ashamed, since none takes effect. I beseech you Doralisa, said Martesia, try what you can do upon him to screw out what the Princess so much desires; Were her Commands upon me replied she, as they are upon you, I should have obeyed her: but since she hath not done me that favour, I have no mind to rob you of the honour in doing her this small piece of service: And therefore since your prayers have no influence upon Intaphernes, go some other way to work; make him bolt out that at several times, which he will not do at once: Puzzle him with a hundred far-fetchd questions, pump him, and make him confess what he has no mind to do: Seem sometimes to know what you ask him, and as if you were careless of knowing more; be sometimes mild, sometimes sharp: And when you have tried all ways, and all in vain, yet I know one infallible course to make him tell what the Princess desires to know. Pray then instruct me, replied Martesia; for I have done all that you have yet advised me unto, and more: Therefore I beseech you instruct me with this devise whose event you think so certain. I am confident replied Doralisa, and smiled, that the Princess will agree the most sure way to know the secrets of another, is to trust them with their own. I cannot tell, said Martesia, whether that be true or no, but I am sure you never pumped out the secrets of any one by imparting your own. However it be (said Doralisa) begin from this very night to tell the Prince Intapernes all the particulars of your life, especially since the time that the illustrious Cyrus came to Sinope under the name of Artamenes, omit not so much as the long discourse you had yesterday with Feraulas: And if after all this, Intaphernes do not impart his secrets, I will engage myself to tell you mine, which is a thing I use not, but hate most of any in the world.  
Mandana hearing Doralisa speak thus, could not choose but laugh, especially when she saw Martesia was a little nettled: For though she had wit at will, and was excellent at Raillary; yet the very name of Feraulas having put her to the blush, she began to study revenge upon Doralisa, yet could not hit upon it; for she was of such an humour, as the names of Myrsyles, Andramites, and all the rest of her Lovers had never reached her heart, so that Martesia was forced that day to endure whatsoever Doralisa pleased to put upon her. However, after all this Raillary, the Princess Mandana told Martesia in a more serious manner that Intaphernes his deny all did extremely augment her Curiosity, imagining that either Cyrus or herself, or both were concerned in the relation he was desired to make: So that Martesia to satisfy Mandana, and to stop tanting Doralisa's mouth, did bethink herself of a man whose name was Orcames, of good rank about the Prince Intaphernes, and in great favour with him; from him she thought to have what she desired to know: For at their last discourse, he let her know how he was obliged unto the interests of this Prince, ever since he was at Babylon. & her greatest hope was, in that Orcames was a man the best at relating stories in the world, and loved to employ his talon, and would often when he had no adventures of others to relate, he would voluntarily out with his own. Martesia then upon this hope of persuading him to tell her all he knew concerning his Master, and other passages in Bythinia, did promise Mandana afresh to satisfy her Curiosity, and indeed she did not fail in her word. In the mean time, since she could never talk with Orcames but at nights, it was three days before she could persuade him to relate the adventures of Intaphernes, though his inclination to such relations was good enough: Yet she did so handsomely tamper with him, as she persuaded him that it was requisite the Princess Mandana should be acquainted with the interests of Intaphernes, to the end she might serve him when occasions were: Insomuch as Orcames who was ignorant that Cyrus had desired his Master not to acquaint the Princess with any passages in Bythinia: And who knew he had related unto that Prince all the adventures, never dared to let Mandana know what Cyrus did already know; and he was the more induced unto it, because he could not tell any thing which was not glorious unto the Prince his Master: so that Martesia having fitted him to her desired mould, she went immed 〈…〉 unto Mandana, with whom Doralisa was. Mow Madam, said she unto her, yo 〈…〉 know the secrets of Intaphernes, at an easier rate than his knowing mine, For O 〈…〉 es hath promised me to tell you them, whensoever you shall please to appoint him. That shall be to morrow at night (said the Princess) for then I know our journey will not be long, and that we shall come to our Lodgings betimes, so that I do intend to retire sooner than ordinary, purposely to give him the more conventient opportunity for it.  
The business being thus resolved upon, Martesia acquainted Orcames with it, and the day following, Mandana seeming as she were weary with her journey, would not be seen all that Evening as she did usually, yet she had a desire to acquaint Cyrus with the true cause of that weariness she complained of, and to let him be an Auditor of this relation: But since Intaphernes was then with him, she could not do it: Also, since her virtue was very scrupulous and delicate, as much as she esteemed Cyrus, yet she would not let him see her, after she had said that she would admit of none; for as for Orcames, the matter was not so great.  
Martesia then seeing that none but Doalisa and Pherenice were with Mandana, she brought in Orcames, whom the Princess received as a man from whom she expected satisfaction of her Curiosity: You need not think it strange, said she unto him, that I should rather desire to know the life of Intaphernes from you, then from himself: For since the design in my desires of knowing it, is principally because I would the more esteem him: I thought his modesty would hide part of his virtues from me, and that perhaps he would detract from himself, and therefore I desire to receive them from you: but I pray, said she, let not your relation be limited only unto the adventures of the Prince Intaphernes, but I beseech you let the Princess Istrina also have her place, for I know the interests of that illustrious Brother and admirable Sister are so twisted, as it were unjust to separate them in their stories.  
Though I would do so Madam replied Orcames, yet I cannot; for truly the Princess Istrina hath so great a share in all I am to relate, and in all the passages of all Asia, even in this which hath happened unto you Madam in particular, as one may almost look upon her as the innocent cause of all the Wars. Indeed if the Queen Nitocris had not peremptorily resolved that the Prince her son should have married her, perhaps he had loved her, or at least not hated her, nor gone out of his Kingdom, and by consequence he had never been an Enemy and Rival unto the illustrious Cyrus: he had never carried you Madam away, he would have rested peaceable in his own Dominions; you had never come under the power either of the Prince Mazanes, or the King of Pontus. Croessus had at this hour possessed all his Treasures: Armenia had not been tributary, the Prince of Cumes had been alive, & all these great revolutions in Asia had never happened without the Princess Istrina. But Madam, I must not only bring in the Prince Intaphernes, the Princess his Sister, and the Princess of Bythinia, but also the Prince Atergatis, and the King of Assyria: And to speak truth, I have so many several things to relate which are so twisted with one another, as I doubt whether I am able to wind the clew of my relation to the bottom without such a disorderly ruffle, as will weary you. The only favour which I ask, replied the Princess, is, not to do as many relators do, who design to iuclude many things in few words; for indeed there are many passages whereon aggravations are pleasing, and sometimes are necessary, so that I cannot abide this sparing of a few words: and therefore do not confine yourself unto over-narrow limits, but freely impart all you know. Orcames being glad that the Princess commands did not thwart his inclination. he assured her that he would most exactly obey her: so that Mandana having placed herself opposite to him, and caused Cushions to be given unto Doralisa, Pherenece, and Martesia, Orcames began his story thus:  

The History of the King of Assyria, of Intaphernes, of Atergates, of Istrina, and of the Princess of BYTHINIA.  
TO the end Madam you may more easily be 〈…〉 ●hat the Prince Intaphernes and the Princess Istrina are accomplished with a 〈…〉 virtue's which persons of their quality ought to be, I must begin my relation with an Elegy to the Queen Nitocris under whom they were educated, and of whom they both were most tenderly loved: But Madam, this Queen hath so many, so great, and such rare qualities, that if I should undertake to describe but a part of them, I should want time to acquaint you i'th' wwhat you desire to know. and to speak the very truth, it need not be brought into any question; but a Queen whose name hath filled all Asia, is fresh in the memory of a Princess whose glory fills all the earth: I will not therefore stay you Madam with applauds of a great Queen, whose virtues I do believe you sufficiently esteem, maugre the violences of the King her son: Nor shall I stay you long with acquainting you in things so far fetched, as I should have done, if I had not understood from Martesia, how you are not ignorant of the affection which Gadates had unto Nitocris, and of her virtue in thwarting her inclination unto Gadates: so that I shall content myself with reviving in your memory, that she having no mind to put the Crown of that Prince whom she loved for fear of causing a civil War in her Dominions, but married another whom she loved not: and with telling you how she banished him who had the greatest share in her heart: How she commanded him to marry: How he obeyed her; and how afterwards, to gratify his obedience, she intended to set the Princess Istrina upon the Assyrian Throne by marrying her unto the Prince her son. After this Madam, I believe you will imagine that the Prince Intaphernes, and the Princess Istrina were educated with all imaginable care, it being easy to be conjectured, that the wisest Queen which ever reigned in Assyria since Semiramis, would not neglect the education of a Princess whom she designed for a Throne, and of a young Prince whose Father had such a share in her heart, and whom she looked upon as one who was to be brother in Law unto the King of Assyria: And certainly all her cares were not lost; for I can assure you Madam, that these two young persons did much exceed their age both in beauty and spirit, and were the admiration not only of all the Court, but of all Babylon, which you know Madam is one of the greatest Cities in the world. I shall not insist Madam, upon any particular descriptions of Istrina's beauty; for since the Prince Intaphernes is a very picture of her, your own eyes may be judge. I shall only say thus much, that never was any brown beauty more lovely than hers, nor fuller of attractive charms: As for her spirit, her physiognomy doth promise what it is, to wit, great and noble: and which is most pleasing, her humour is of such a sweet composition, as it gains her more hearts than her beauty.  
Yet for all that, this sweet and lovely Lady has a heart full of ambition, and so sensible of glory, as she is ready to sacrifice any thing, even all her pleasures unto it. She being of such a temper as I have described, her hopes were flattered up with being a Queen, and her mind was so blown up with thoughts of Grandeur, as all her cares were how to please the Queen Nitocris, and the Prince of Assyria, whom she was made believe she was to marry: Since you know Madam what Antipathy there was in him towards her, though he had no other reason for it, but because he would not suit his fancy unto the will of any others, I will not insist upon any aggravations of it: Let me only tell you thus much, that because the Princess Istrina was of the fair complexion, he hated all the brown, were they never so fair, & hated Intaphernes only because he was her brother. Indeed you know Madam, how he treated him one day when they were hunting together, when the Prince Intaphernes more dexterous and happy than he, killed a Lion: But Madam, the thing which I believe you do not know, or at least have but a confused notion of it, is, that whilst all the Court wondered to see this aversion, as the Assyrian Prince towards her, she made many in Love with her: And amongst the rest, there was a young Prince in that Court called Atergatis, who was most desperately in love with her, and who was no less meritorious of her Love, than she of his; the Prince Mazanes who knows him, is able to tell you, that the Prince Atergatis is one of the most amiable persons in the world, and the fittest to make a faithful and discreet Lover.  
As for his person it is pleasing, and it's hard to look long upon it, and not love it. Since his Quality made him a Companion with the Prince of Assyria, in all his pleasure, he was often times a witness of that aversion which he had to the Princess Istrina: And I have heard 〈…〉 ce say, that this his aversion was partly a cause of his Love; because not being 〈◊〉 conceive how a Prince of his spirit could possibly hate so fair a person as she, 〈◊〉 he had observed some particular faults in her, he therefore applied himself unto her, to see what was the reason her beauty did not captivate the Prince of Assyria's heart: so that seeing her very often, he saw her too oft for his quietness, for he loved her with as much violence as it was possible for any living to love. However, since he knew that the Queen Nitocris was fully resolved that the Prince her son should marry her: and since he very well observed the ambitious vein of the Princess Istrina, he durst not therefore declare himself, and therefore smothered up most tormenting flames: but the oddest passage in his Love was, that he adhered so much unto the interests of the Princess Istrina, as he could not choose but hate the King of Assyria, because he carried himself harshly towards her, though it would have pinched him to the soul if he had seen him love her.  
Since at that time the heart of Istrina was swelled only with ambition; and seeing herself looked upon by all the Court, as her that was to be Queen of Assyria, she did imagine that none durst presume to look so high as she: Insomuch, as though she did every day see the Prince Atergatis, and though he talked with her as much as he could, and Courted her with continual trifling services, yet she did not perceive he was in love with her, though many others observed it, and though she herself had a good inclination to esteem him.  
The Prince of Assyria was the first that found it out, and was very glad of it; for he heartily wished that the Princess Istrina had a Lover whom she loved, purposely that he might have a better pretence for not loving her, as Nitocris would have him: And indeed this violent Prince seeing that the Laws of the Land required that he should Marry Istrina, because there was none of her Quality in all the Kingdom whom else he could marry: And seeing that the Qu: Nitocris was resolute, & would exact obedience from him, as soon as the Peace with Phrigia was completed, which was under negotiation, therefore he had recourse unto the most extreme Remedies.  
Then he made a hundred odd Propositions unto the Prince Mazanes, who would not hearken unto them: so that perceiving the Prince Atergatis was in love with Istrina, he sent one day to him to tell him that he would use his best assistance to make him happy. Atergatis much surprised at the Prince of Assyria's Compliment, told him, that the only way to make him happy was to give him some occasion of doing him some considerable service: No, no, replied this violent Prince, I mean not to make you happy by your serving me, but by my serving you: I know you are in love with the Princess Istrina: Alas Sir (said Atergatis, and interrupted him) I owe you more respects, then to have any thoughts of that most excellent Princess, but such as I ought to have of one whose Subject I must hereafter be: No no Atergatis, (said he unto him) do not dissemble the truth, but confess freely unto me that you are the Princess Istrina's slave without fear of being hereafter her Subject, for jassure you that I will never put the Crown upon her head: Therefore for your own satisfaction, and to free me from the perpetual persecution of the Queen, who would have me marry her; give me leave to steal her away for you, and put her into your power, yet so as I may not be seen in the business: I will find you a most safe sanctuary for a Retreat, where you may wait until the Queen's anger be over, and until you have got the Princess Istrina's Love, Sir, replied Atergatis (extremely amazed and puzzled to answer the Prince of Assyria) I have already told you that I have no thoughts of the Princess Istrina, but such as becomes me, though I must needs confess that I do infinitely admire her: But were it so that I loved this most excellent Princess, I would not Sir accept of this offer, because it is not the way to obtain the love of that illustrious person, & because it would hinder her of a Crown: Therefore Sir, whether I be her Lover, or not her Lover, I ought not to consent unto your proposition.  
Your answer (replied the King of Assyria) doth so much surprise me, as I almost believe myself mistaken in thinking you to be in Love with Istrina; for I cannot conceive it possible one should refuse the possession of her he loves, though he come to her by the most difficulty and unjust ways in the world.  
But perhaps (pursued he) you do not believe me and are not persuaded of my great aversion to the Princess Istrina: yet I do prot 〈…〉 〈…〉 ergatis, I hate Intaphernes because he is her brother, and should hate you a 〈…〉 Lover, were I not in hopes of persuading you be her Ravisher also: I must confess when I do force my eyes to examine her beauty, I do find her fair: and my reason sometimes tells me, she has wit enough. But for all this she displeaseth me: I cannot abide her; and I am sometimes very sorry that I can only hate her, and that I cannot but only in my heart scorn her.  
How Sir, replied Atergatis (who could not endure to hear her he adored, so vilified) can it be possible the Princess Istrina should dislike you, and stifle your inclination? How is it possisible Atergatis (replied the Prince of Assyria) that the Princess Istrina should please you, charm you, and move your heart, and yet not desire to enjoy her by the way which I propound? Yet you love her; and I do plainly see it in your eyes, that you cannot endure I should speak so sharply against her: Therefore I do declare unto you, that you must do one of these three things: You must either carry her away, or make her love you, or else make me hate you: For if I find you to be only a bare Adorer of Istrina, I shall hate you perhaps more than if I were your Rival.  
As Atergatis was studying for an answer, as good luck was, the Prince Mazanes and others came in and broke off their discourse, and also gave him an occasion of quitting that where his soul suffered the torments of a Hell.  
But to sum up his torments, as he was going from this Prince's Chamber, he met with one who stayed him a long time in talk of some business; and as he was talking, one of the Assyrian Princes servants passed by him, and was asked by another whether he went, and he answered aloud, that his Master sent him to seek a Prince whose name was Armatrites: So that Atergatis knowing this Prince to be in love with the Princess Istrina, and imagining that the Prince of Assyria sent for his Rival to make the same proposition which he had done unto him, he was so perplexed that he was forced to quit him he was talking with, and to go home purposely to resolve with himself what course to take: I understood since, from his own mouth, that he was more perplexed then ever was any amorous heart: Sometimes he was glad to see the Prince of Assyria's aversion to Istrina; sometimes again he was angry at it, and otherwhiles he repented of his non-acceptance of the offer made unto him, fearing lest his Rival should anticipate him: What a most miserable cross destiny is mine? (would he say himself upon examination of this strange adventure) I do love a Princess who knows not that I adore her, because my respects unto the Prince for whom she is destined does hinder me from letting her know it; and yet this very same Prince who thinks my felicity would be his misery, offers me to steal her away for me, and put her in my power. Think well on it Atergatis (would he say) consider whether 'tis not thy best course to return and tell the Prince thou dost repent of thy refusal: For truly since he is resolved not to make her a Queen, is there any one in all the Kingdom that is more worthy of her then thyself in respect of thy violent and respective passion?  
But said he, (and reprehended himself immediately after) Canst thou be so insolent as to make any Declaration of Love unto her, after thou hast caused her to be Ravished away? Take heed Atergatis, with what eyes a wronged Princess will look upon thee, a Princess who will think that thou hast taken a Crown from her: Imagine that thou seest Istrina incensed? Let not thy love eclipse thy virtue? Remember that thou hast ever thought, and that with reason, that whosoever excludes respect from this passion, doth ruin it: and that to take away a Princess whose heart is not obtained, is the most unjust thing in the world, and the greatest folly one can commit: Harken therefore unto reason in spite of thy love, and follow its Counsels rather than the King of Assyria's: But alas alas, said he, if thy Rival should not be so generous as thyself, but should accept of what this unjnst Prince should offer him, in what a deplorable condition art thou then? what good will all thy respects of her thou adorest do thee, since she does not know thou lovest her? And who cannot think herself obliged unto thee for a thing she is ignorant of? Examine seriously Atergatis, what course is best to be taken: If thou wilt not do as the King of Assyria would have thee, thy Rival perhaps will: If thou dost carry away Istrina, she will hate thee: If thou dost not carry her away, another in all probability will. What canst thou do, unfortunate man, in such a strange condition? Canst thou suffer thy Princess to be carried away without acquainting her with the misfortune which hangs over her head? Canst thou give her a greater testimony of thy esteem and love, then by letting her know it? But alas (said he, and sighed) how canst thou at one time acquaint the Princess Istrina, that thou lovest her; that the Prince of Assyria hates her; that thou hast refused the offer of her taking away; that thou art persuaded thy Rival will not startle at it: The least of all these is enough to tremble thee into a Palsy in telling it, since it would make her both sad and angry: Consider what an angry business it would be to tell her all these things at once: Yet why shouldst thou pause upon it; For though there were no other reason to move thee unto a discovery of what thou knowest, yet her interest alone is enough to oblige thee unto it, as her Friend, and not her Lover. But what phrases canst thou make use of to express those difficulties, which will so much surprise her? She hath ever looked upon thee as one who was to be her Subject, and thou goest to tell her that she must look upon thee as her Lover; and as a man who wisheth with all his heart that she may never be a Queen. She expects the King of Assyria will put a Crown upon her head, and thou tellest her that he would steal her away for another, and that he will perhaps find one who will accept of an offer so unjust, so contrary to generosity, and even Love itself. Nevertheless, the service thou owest unto the Princess Istrina requires it from thee, and thy Passion commands it.  
But yet once more Atergatis, what words wilt thou use? I know not (said he and sighed) yet without more ado leave it unto thy Love to suggest such as shall persuade the Princess, that since the King of Assyria does not adore her, he is unworthy of her esteem: and that since thou lovest her more than ever man loved any, thou dost merit some share in her heart.  
After this Atergatis being fully resolved to acquaint Istrina with the passage, and to give her such hints as might make her guess at his Love, he waited with much impatience until after dinner. But in the interim, his reason suggested unto him, that perhaps he should expose himself to the Prince of of Assyria's hatred; if it should so fall out that the Princess Istrina should discover unto him what he should tell her: yet this did not divert him from his first intentions, and from going unto the Queen as soon as the hour, when every one used to go, was come.  
Since the Princess Istrina did much esteem him, and ranked him in the number of her intimate friends: and since the Prince Intaphernes did dearly love him, he hoped to find an easy opportunity of talking with her, either in the Queen's presence, or her own chamber: And he found the opportunity more favourable than he hoped, for since it was then very hot, and the Sun began to grow low, the Princess went to walk in those rare Gardens, made heretofore by the famous Semiramis, and which as you know Madam, being vaulted underneath, and supported by huge, high, and stately pillars, has the reputation over all Asia, to hang miraculously in the Air, considering their prodigious bigness. The Princess Istrina having that day made choice of this Walk, there being very few company which frequented it, because the Queen not going the crowd of the Court stayed with her, since it was upon her that all Graces and Favours depended. As for Atergatis, since his business was not there, he followed the Princess Istrina, and was so happy, that when he came first into her presence, she asked him if he would walk with her: He joyfully accepted of such a favourable opportunity, and presented her his hand to lead her out: Since it was a great height to mount into those miraculous Gardens, which she made choice of for her diversion, she was a little weary when she was up: So that to rest herself a while, to the end her walk might be the more delightful, she did sit down in an Arbour made between four Palm trees, which being intertwisted with each other, did make a most delicate shade, there being seats of Cyprus wood which perfumed the place. The Princess Istrina sitting under such a cooling shade, the Prince Atergatis had all the conveniency of talking with her he could desire; For since there was no persons with her of his Quality but himself, as soon as he began to talk seriously with the Princess, as if he had some secrecy of importance to impart, all the rest of the company did out of their respects retire some distance from them: so that Atergatis, not to lose such a precious moment, Madam (said he unto her with a trembling heart) I have a business to acquaint you withal, which I wish it were already told you, because it is most necessary you should know it, and yet I dare hardly tell it, unless I have the authority of your Command.  
Istrina surprised at the discourse of Atergatis, did look seriously upon the matter, and endeavoured to guests at the business; but yet though her fair eyes did look seriously in the eyes of Atergatis, and saw them full of love, yet they could not discover the passion of his heart: So that not knowing what to think, I do confess Atergatis, said she, I cannot imagine what you can tell of such importance for me to know; for since I have ever thought you my friend, in lieu of desiring a Command to speak, you should speak freely without, but since you do desire it, I do command you: Then Madam, said he, I will obey, and acquaint you with a business which will most surprise you of any thing in the world: Oh I beseech you (said Istrina then) do not yet obey me; but tell me first, whether it will be a business which will anger me, or grieve me, or else joy me; for you know that pleasing things may surprise one, as well as displeasing. Since Madam I am full of sincerity, replied he, I must confess I have nothing to tell which I think will please you, but much which will displease.  
If it be so, said she, I pray tell me nothing, unless you can tell me a way how to avoid any great misfortune. If that had not been the cause Madam, replied Atergatis, I should never have resolved to acquaint you with what I now intent, but indeed Madam, it does so near concern you to know it, as it doth concern the whole tranquillity of your life: Speak then Atergatis said she unto him, and speak quickly for I long to know your business. I will obey you Madam, replied Atergatis; but it must be upon Condition, that my first words shall not move you to impose silence upon me, but that you will suffer me to speak out without any interruption, all that concerns you to know. Since you cannot tell me any thing which will vex me more than this incertainty unto which you have put me (replied she) I will hear you as long as you please: For since I have a good opinion of your wisdom, I need not fear you will tell me any thing which I ought not to hear.  
I shall tell you then Madam, said he unto her, that though all Asia knows how the Queen intends you should wear the same Crown she doth, by marrying you unto the Prince her son, and by consequence all the Subjects of this great Queen, aught to look upon you as her who must be their Sovereign: Yet there is one who not being contented with the quality of a Subject which is common to many others, hath a devotion to be your slave in a most particular manner. Though I did promise not to interrupt you (said Istrina, and blushed) yet it was because I thought you had some business of importance to tell me: but Atergatis I do perceive it to be only a piece of Raillary to divert me, and by Consequence does not merit the performance of my word: I beseech you Madam remember, replied Atergatis, that I desired you not to impose silence upon me, nor wonder at my first words. But the more to oblige your audience, I will submit unto all imaginable punishments, if you do not confess at the end of my discourse that you ought to know what I shall tell you, and that I were unworthy to live if I did not acquaint you with it.  
The Princess Istrina then perceiving that Atergatis had indeed some serious matter to tell her, resolved to hear him without interruption, not imagining that Atergatis and this slave whereof he spoke were both one: so giving him a new permission to speak, he began with as much fear as love.  
Be pleased to know Madam (said he unto her) that there is a man in Babylon who began to admire you as soon as ever he began to see you: and who without any hopes of being loved, or thoughts of letting you know his Love, doth still continue loving you; but it is with an affection so pure and so free from all manner of interest, that I am certain until yesterday about this time, he never intended you should know his Passion, and yet he loves you in a higher degree than ever any could: and had he thought he could pretend unto the enjoyment of you without hindering you of a Crown, he had long since declared himself, and avenged you of the Prince of Assyria's injustice. had he thought that the glory of being a Queen had not been the object of your desires, doubtless he would have let you known that you do Reign as Sovereignly in his heart, as ever you can do upon the Throne of Assyria: He would have made it known unto you Madam, though he had directly opposed the Queen, and though the Prince her son had loved you as much as he ought to do. So that Madam, the reason why this concealed Lover hath not discovered his Passion unto you, is because he was as full of respect, as Love: because he thought it not his duty to make you lose a Crown, and because he could never hope you could prefer the Empire of his heart, above a Kingdom.  
In the mean time, since the passion of his amorous heart is most violent, he hath suffered and suffered more than ever any did: he hath smothered up all his miseries in silence, and without complaint, and would still have done so, if the Prince of Assyria had not yesterday told him a thing which is the cause I now discover his thoughts unto you. For truly Madam (if I may without offence utter it) that most unjust Prince cannot endure you, and will never give you that Crown which he is to wear, though you deserve it better than he. He is not contented with not adoring you himself, and with entertaining the most unjust thoughts in the world of you, but he would also corrupt this Lover which doth adore you: Yet Madam, since it is requisite I acquaint you with the Prince of Assyria's injustice, I must tell you, how he sent for him of whom I speak, and told him that he perceived his Love to you, and protested unto him that he for his part could never love you, & offered him to steal you away for him, and all this with such earnest expressions, as it was rather a Commandment that he made, than a Proposition. How (said the Princess Istrina, and interrupted him) would the Prince of Assyria steal me away, and put me in the power of him you mention? If this be so, though he were King of the whole world, I would disobey the Queen if she commanded me to marry him: and if it were not for the Reverence I owe unto that Princess, I should this very day let him know who thus slights me, that I do not deserve it from him, and that I have a heart as great, as his is insolent and proud: Can I believe Atergatis, that this is true? so true Madam, replied he, that nothing can be more: Then said she, am I the most miserable woman in the world; for unless the injurious Prince of Assyria have not Imparted this unjust Proposition unto a most generous man, perhaps he will accept of it: I cannot tell Madam (replied Atergatis very modestly) whether the man do merit the attribute of generous; but I am sure, that though he loves you beyond all expressions, he refused to enjoy you by any such unjust way, as the Assyrian Prince propounded: His respects of you were so high, as he would not acknowledge unto him that he loved you; but told him that though he were, yet you should never be stolen away, which put that violent Prince into such a chafe, as he told him in the conclusion of their Conference, that he must do one of these three things: Either let him steal you away; or procure your Love, or else be hated of him. This last thing (replied Istrina very sharply) is questionless the most easy of the three, and also the most just: Yet (added she, and blushed, because she knew by the disorder which appeared in the face of Atergatis, that it was himself who loved her) the generous proceeding of him who refused the Prince of Assyria's unjust proposition, doth so sensibly oblige me, that I must conjure you not to name him to me, lest being obliged to look upon him as a man who loves me, I should be driven to shun his company: therefore Atergatis since he cannot choose but be a most excellent man, let me have the liberty of treating him with the same Cruelties I use unto such men, and never let me know his name: Oh Madam, said Atergatis, was ever such a kind of acknowledgement invented? Could ever any but yourself have found it out? For since the proceeding of him whom you would not know doth both please and oblige you, why will you not know who he is? The reason is, replied she, because I cannot know him, unless I resolve at the same time to hold no particular friendship with him: so that to take from me a subject of ingratitude, I must not admit of his acquaintance. Then promise me Madam I beseech you (said Atergatis, and looked most passionately upon her) that you will guess at him whom you will not permit me to name: For if you will not promise this, I think Madam, I shall not tell you what remains, though it concerns you most of all to know it; for I am fully persuaded, that the Prince of Assyria is at this very hour proposing unto another whom I know, to steal you away; who perhaps not being so respective and jnst as him you would not know, will accept of the offer, and prepare for the execution of his unjust design: Oh Atergatis, replied Istrina, I will promise what you please, provided you will prevent my being taken away, by naming him unto me, whom you think so apt to undertake such violence against me: How Madam (said Atergatis, retreating a Pace or two, and looking fixedly upon her) would you know the name of him that would injure you, and not know his name who gives the greatest testimony of his respect and love that ever any could? Yet since you will have it so (said he and came a little nearer her) and since I am in some hopes that you will guests who it is, I will tell you that Armatrites is the man whom the Prince of Assyria sent for, after he was denied by that respective Lover whom you will not let me name. Alas Atergatis, replied Istrina, hath Armatrites accepted of this offer? he is no less violent and rash than the Prince of Assyria, and therefore I cannot imagine any security for myself, but by quitting the Court, and acquainting the Queen with it; and consequently by dividing all Assyrin, and causing perhaps a War between the Queen and the Prince her son.  
No no Madam, said Atergatis to her, there needs no recourse unto such violent Remedies; for I know that he who refused the Prince of Assyria's unjust Proposition, intends to have a very observant eye over Armatrites: And I dare assure you, that considering his way of acting, you need not fear it: And therefore you need only to keep close for some certain days in the Queen's Palace, to prevent all fears; for let me once more assure you, that the Person whom you will not permit me to name, had rather die then suffer any violence to be done unto you: his Love of you will inspire him with policy enough to prevent his Rival. Therefore Madam, I beseech you do not let it perplex you too much; for I should think myself most unhappy, if my intentions of preventing one misery, should drive you into another. I know that the loss of a Crown is great, and will most sensibly perplex one whose affection is all upon glory: and I know also that the Messenger of such bad news cannot be welcome. Yet truly Atergatis (said Istrina, and interrupted him) I think myself much obliged to you, though you have acquainted me with nothing but sad things: Then Madam it seems (replied Atergatis & sighed) that you rank amongst sad things, that violent and respective Passion, which this unknown Lover bears you, who hath refused to enjoy you by that unjust way which hath been propounded to him, that the enjoyment of you Madam, is the only thing in the world that can make him happy, and without which, he will be ever miserable: It seems, replied Istrina, that I have cause to grieve at an obligation of such a nature upon me, which I cannot acknowledge, yet I must needs be so just unto him in my heart, as to wish him happy in recompense of his generosity. But Madam, replied Atergatis, you do unawares engage yourself unto many things, he cannot without you, be what you desire he should be. The Princess Istrina having more and more cause to think that it was Atergaris' who was in love with her, and who denied the Prince of Assyria, did rise up, lest he should tell her more than she desired to hear, and lest he should take the boldness to discover himself: Since I perceive this generous person whom I will not know is one of your Friends, I conjure you to oblige him to a Continuance of his Generosity in acquainting me by you with all his discoveries of any unjust designs in the Prince of Assyria, or in Armatrites. Doubtless, Madam, replied Atergatis, you shall by me know all that he who adores you with most reverence, and loves with all violences of passion can inform you of: After this the Princess Istrina beginning to walk, called the rest of the Ladies which waited, and took one turn in the Garden, to the end it should not be observed that the Prince Atergatis had told her any thing which altered her design of walking: but her Soul was so troubled that she could not take a second; so that retiring to her Chamber, she feigned herself sick, purposely to have the better pretence for her not going abroad. Atergatis at his parting from her used many expressions which confirmed her in her opinion; yet he said nothing which moved Istrina from her manner of familiarity with him, so that he parting upon very good terms from her, he went away with much satisfaction: For though this Princess told him she would not know the Name of him they spoke of, yet it did not trouble him: But on the contrary being of a quick apprehension, he easily perceived that the Princess Istrina's reason why she did forbid him to tell the Name of the man, was, because she knew him: So that flattering up his passion, he thought himself more happy than ever he hoped to be; but his greatest perplexity was his fears that Armatrites should not accept of what he had refused, and that the Prince of Assyria would not take away Istrina from him.  
And indeed though it was not known in Babylon, but on the contrary reported that he had received the Proposition as well as Atergatis; yet it was most certainly true, that he did accept of it with joy, and had executed his design, had not his Illustrious Rival been an Obstacle unto him, as I shall presently tell you how. On the other side Istrina's Soul was so dejected that she was all sadness: She perceived by what Atergatis had told her, that she should never be a Queen, and that her hopes of it were all quashed, yet certainly that was not it which most did trouble her; for she did more bitterly resent the Prince of Assyrias scorn then the loss of a Crown; not that she ever had any inclination to him, but because she conceived herself more meritorious then to be so slighted, therefore she could not choose but extremely hate him, especially since she observed his clashing with the Prince Intaphernes. In the mean time she could not find out any remedy to her misery; she knew the Queen would not permit her to leave the Court, because she had an opinion that the Prince her Son would in the end change his mind. Again, if she should acquaint Intaphernes with what Atergatis had told her, she feared that he being already incensed against the Prince of Assyria, he might perhaps take some violent course; since that he would be out of hopes to see the Crown upon her head, which was the only cause why he stayed at Court after so many affronts put upon him by the Prince of Assyria: Istrina than not knowing what course to take, thought best to pause some certain days, before she fixed her Resolution; And to the end she might be that Interim in safety, she dissembled herself sick, as I said before, that she might the better colour her keeping within the Palace. But after a serious examination of all that related unto the Prince of Assyria, the generosity of Atergatis came into her memory; and though she then held him in the rank of esteem and friendship, yet she found no disposition in herself to desire he should not love her: for as she hath since opened her most secret thoughts unto the Prince her Brother; I knew them, as well as if I had been in her heart: Nor did she desire he should love her, but without any further reasoning upon his passion; she only considered the generosity of his Action, without looking any near into the matter, or overseeing the Sequel.  
In the mean time Atergatis employing all his Wits and Policy to discover what he desired to know, did nnderstand that the Prince of Assyria had held a long Conference with Armatrites, that after it they both of them were very merry; and that on the Contrary he observed the Prince of Assyria would scarcely look upon him, insomuch as descanting upon these probably Conjectures, he concluded that Armatrites had accepted of the Proposition which he refused: Also he met with several Orders which both these Princes had given, that confirmed him in his Opinion; for the Prince of Assyria had sent secretly to the Governor of Opis (whether he carried you, Madam, when he carried you away) And Armatrites had sent most of his Train out of Babylon upon a very unlikely pretence: After when he had plotted how he might defeat the design of his Rival, he conceived the best way was to fight with him, and to make his Quarrel upon something in which the Princess Istrina was not concerned; for since the Prince of Assyria was a Party in the Crime of Armatrites, he thought it no policy to publish it. Atergatis did see very well that since he had no certainty of what he feared, exact Prudence required that he should stay a while and endeavour to make the business clearer; But being extremely in love he apprehended more danger in staying too long before he fought with Armatrites, then in fight with him too soon; for indeed (said he to himself) Armatrites is my Rival, that s certain; therefore though I look upon him only as so, and not as a Ravisher of the Princess whom I adore, yet still I must be his Enemy, since there is not such a natural antipathy in the whole Universe as between two Rivals. Then Atergatis feared that if he overcame, he should then be forced away from Istrina: yet since he knew Nitocris did not love Armatrites, he hoped he should not be banished the Court for it; or at least if he were, it would not be long: Also considering the carrying away of the Princess Istrina, he thought it better he should be banished from her, then expose her unto any such misery; So that to defeat the unjust design of Armatrites, he resolved to ruin him. But to the end the Princess Istrina should not suspect the truth of what he told her, he cunningly got the Prince Intaphernes, to tell her in his presence, as a piece of novelty, how Armatectes was the new Favourite of the Assyrian Prince, and how Atergatis was out of Favour: So that the Princess applying what he said unto herself, according to the wish of Atergatis, she blushed so extremely, that though she was upon her bed where it was not very light, yet Atergatis perceived it, and saw that he was understood. In the mean time, without further delay, he endeavoured to meet with Armatrites the next morning, and seemed as if he had no design in it; And since it was that season of the year when walking upon the Banks of the River Euphrates was much frequented, he thought to find him there: And since he was of a very violent and hasty temper, it would be an easy matter to find a cause of some Quarrel, especially since he had such a Spirit of Contradiction. For truly, Madam, Armatrites was of such a cross disposition, that if two persons were in contrary opinions to one another, he would rather be of a third to contradict them both, than side with either.  
Atergatis knowing this humour, did conceive it would be very advantageous to himself to interest the Queen in the Cause of his quarrel, to the end he might be protected against the Prince her Son, if any need were, that he might not be banished if he were the Vanquishor, and by consequence not be separated from Istrina. Consulting then with himself how he might effect his Design, he resolved when he came to the Banks of Euphrates, where he found Armatrites to extol those great and wonderful works which that Illustrious Queen had made, to prevent the violence of the River, by turning it several ways before it came to Babylon, imaging that Armatrites would be sure to contradict him: And indeed Atergatis was not mistaken, for as soon as they met, and as he began to commend that wonderful work, Armatrites checked him, and said, that the Queen was rather to be blamed, and that she had done much better if she had employed those vast Expenses in turning the course of the River, in fortifying the Frontiers of her Dominions: After which he began to condemn in general all those Princes which busy themselves in public works, and said, that this which Nitocris had done, was not done for the security of the Town, and to make it more impregnable, but only out of the vanity of that Queen. Atergatis not to let slip such a favourable occasion, told him in an angry tone that he spoke to unreverently of a great and illustrious Princess, who could not be sufficiently admired: Upon this Armatrites returned a tart answer, and Atergatis the like, still engaging the Queen in his discourse; insomuch as he forced him to bid Atergatis meet him with a Sword in his Land; Atergatis did joyfully take him at his word, and told him, their best course was to take a turn in the Walks, and to draw out insensibly from the Company, lest their Design should be perceived; for at the beginning of their Contest, several persons did hear them. Armatrites being very brave, he did as Atergatis advised him, and they seemed to be good friends, so that there was no suspicion of a quarrel.  
In the mean time, since they were both lovers of Istrina, and knew it, they both longed to see each other with Swords in their hands: so that when they observed there was no notice taken of them, in lieu of returning amongst the people which walked, they continued on their walk along the river side, as if they were men that affected a solitary walk. Since it is the custom of that place, for the Pages to wait upon their Masters at the Gate of the Town, to the end they should not interrupt the walks of the Ladies, by their useless scurrility, the Pages of these two Princes were with the rest, and by consequence could not see their Masters, when they separated themselves from the company. However, since these two Rivals had either of them a sword, they were both of them well enough prepared for a Fight: So that as soon as they came to a place where the River turned, & kept them from the sight of those that walked, because the ground in that place was very low, they began that Combat. I shall not trouble you Madam with any particularities of it; for I have so many other things to relate, that I must not insist too long upon such as are least pleasing. Let it suffice therefore I tell you, that Atergatis was the Conqueror of Armatrites, his victory was deep in blood, and fatal to his Enemy: so that being both fortunate and brave, the great courage of Armatrites could not defend himself from four wounds, two whereof entered into his body. So that losing abundance of blood, he fainted presently, and striving to make a pass at Atergatis, he fell at his feet, yet he strove to rise again; but his generous Rival who was not wounded, would not suffer him, but took away his sword: and having no mind to kill an enemy, who was not in a condition to defend himself, but told him that he would spare his life upon three Conditions.  
The first, to publish that their Quarrel was upon speeches of the great works, which the Queen Nitocris had made.  
The second, to confess he had a design of carrying away the Princess Istrina: And the third, to engage his word that he would never think any more of executing his unjust design as long as he lived: I could oblige you (pursued he) never to think any more upon that Princess; but since I know that Love is a thing not voluntary, I will not require any thing of you, but what is just and Possible.  
Armatrites being much wounded, & hearing Atergatis speak in that manner, was much surprised, for the Prince of Assyria had never told him that he made the same offer unto Atergatis: so as imagining that his Rival came to know of his unjust design, either by revelation from the Gods, or by enchantment, he never denied the business, but confessed that it was true, he had a design of carrying away the Princess Istrina: he told him that he did well not to force him unto any promise of never thinking any more upon that Princess, maintaining with abundance of violence, that never any amorous person ought to make any promise in prejudice of his Love.  
As they were upon these terms, the Prince Intaphernes who had been hunting that morning without any company but his own house, came to them: and being much surprised to find them in that condition, he lighted from his Horse and went up to them: who were as much surprised to see him, who coming suddenly upon them did hear the name of the Princess Istrina; and looking upon both Conqueror, and conquered, Is it possible (said he to them) that my sister should cause two such gallant men to fight? Atergatis whose spirits were incensed against Armatrites for what he said, and thinking that the Prince Intaphernes had heard more than he understood, did force his enemy to confess before him the cause of their fight, and his design of carrying away the Princess Istrina by the Prince of Assyria's orders; but as he was making this Confession, his anger made him bleed so abundantly as he lost his speech. As guilty as he was, yet the Prince Intaphernes was so generous as to command some of his men to help him, and to carry him to the next house, because Babylon was to far off. As these men obeyed the commands of their Master, Armatrites expired in their arms: so that changing their design, they went to acquaint his men at the gate of Babylon, whilst Intaphernes and Atergatis, 'twixt whom was a great league of friendship, they left the high way, and went another blind one, that they might the better discourse together; yet they went a while without any talking, for both their minds was full: And indeed Intaphernes not being able to conceive the mystery of this strange adventure, did study how Atergatis could come to know the Prince of Assyria's design: and why he should rather fight with Armatrites, then acquaint him with the business.  
On the other side, not knowing how he should relate the passage, unless he should discover unto Intaphernes the affection he had unto his Sister the Princess Istrina, he was much perplexed; but at last, knowing his hatred unto the Prince of Assyria, and being acquainted with his generosity and friendship towards him, he resolved to confess the truth: And the rather, became the Princess Istrina had said nothing unto him which he was obliged to hide. So that he first breaking silence: I do not doubt Sir (said he unto him, as they stayed under a Tree which stood in their way) but you do much wonder at this adventure; but before I do particularise unto you the great injustice of the Assyrian Prince, and of Armatrites, I must open unto you the bottom of my heart, to the end you may not wonder how I became thus interested.  
I must tell you then Sir, and most truly, that you have ever been the man of all I know whom I have most esteemed and loved: And the Princess your Sister hath ever been the person, whom of all her sex I most admired, and had the strongest inclination unto: Thus, not being able to say that I esteemed you because I loved her; or that I loved her because I esteemed you, I can only say, that both of you have possession of the prime places in my heart. Yet I do believe, that if I examine the business very well (added this Prince very sweetly) I shall find, that though I had not the honour to know her, yet still I should have been your Friend; and though I never had the happiness to have seen you, yet I should have been her Lover: so that owing that high esteem which I have of both your virtues, only unto your own proper merits; if my friendship be a thing worth the valuing, you are not beholding unto each other for it. Truly Sir (said the Prince Intaphernes) I do set so high a rate upon your friendship, that though I be not beholding unto the merits of my sister for it, but only unto my own, yet I should think myself most happy to enjoy it. And if I have any thing to charge my Sister with, it is because she never acquainted me with this noble Conquest which she hath made: Alas most generous Intaphernes (said Atergatis) the Princess Istrina knows not yet so much as you do, nor do I yet know whether I should wish she did know it.  
After this, Atergatis related unto Intaphernes his intentions of never discovering his Passion, unless the Prince of Assyria should marry some other besides the Princess Istrina, and afterwards telling him how that unjust Prince sent for him what the Proposition was which he made unto him, how he refused it: His design of acquainting the Princess Istrina with it: and to be short, related the whole passage with so much sweet ingenuity, that indeed Intaphernes thought himself much obliged unto him: so that embracing Atergatis, I do find such freeness, such generosity, and so much heroic ingenuity in your proceedings Sir (said he unto him) that I do think it much more glorious for my Sister to Reign in your heart then over all Assyria, since she cannot do that unless she become wife unto the most unjust Prince upon earth; and if she will be ruled by me you shall be happy Sir, if so it be that she can make up your felicity. Atergatis hearing Intaphernes speak thus, he expressed himself with so many tender protestations of friendship and thanks, as Intaphernes did plainly see the superlative affection which he bore unto the Princess Istrina.  
Afterwards, they began to consult upon the best course which was to be taken, considering the state of things; for said the Prince Intaphernes, it is to be conceived that the Prince of Assyria will secretly interest himself in the death of Armatrites: And it is to be feared, that having such a favourable occasion for it, he will revenge himself upon you for denying him.  
But after a serious examination of the whole business, they resolved that Atergatis should not go into Babylon till it was night: That he should lodge with Intaphernes, where the Prince of Assyria durst not offer any violence because of the Queen: That it should be blazed abroad how the Combat between Atergatis and Armatrites did grow, because the first of these maintained the glory of Nitocris against the other: And that they should not at all speak of the intended stealing away of the Princess Istrina, lest it should too much incense the Prince of Assyria; that in the interim, the Prince Intaphernes should go into the Court to prepare the Queen, and to divulge in what Condition he found Atergatis and Armatrites, and how he heard it from the mouth of the vanquished what was the cause of the Combat, divulging also the generosity of the Conqueror, and publishing that Armatrites was the first challenger to fight. And after all this, said Intaphernes I must go into my Sister's chamber: But generous Prince (said Atergatis to him) what will you say of that man whom she will not know? I will tell her, replied he, that she ought to prefer him before all the rest of the world; and that being so much obliged to him as she is, she deserved the Prince of Assyria's scorn, if she were not as grateful as Atergatis is generous.  
After this, seeing it was late, and would be dark before they came to the gates of Babylon, they began to walk, and came so happily, that they could not be known by any who could acquaint the Prince of Assyria, that Atergatis was gone unto the Lodgings of Intaphernes. However, as soon as that Prince had carried him to his Chamber, he left him, Atergatis desiring him to have a greater care of what he said unto the Princess Istrina, then of what he should say unto the Queen: but as he was ready to go out, a Page from that Princess entered, who having heard some confused reports of a Combat with Armatrites, did send to see whether her Brother was returned from hunting, and whether he knew with whom it was that Armatrites fought? Tell her, said Intaphernes, that I will see her presently, and that I send her word it was he whose name she would not know, that fought with Armatrites, and is his Conqueror. The Page remembering word for word what the Prince Intaphernes told him, went back to the Princess Istrina, and made an exact relation of the Prince her Brother's message, and she was extremely surprised when she heard it. The cause of her wonder was not only to know that it was Atergatis who fought with Armatrites and overcame him, and to know of a certain that it was Atergatis who was in love with her: but her greatest wonder was, to understand that the Prince Intaphernes should be acquainted with the conference she had held with Atergatis; not being able to imagine, that he who would never tell her openly that he loved her, should acquaint the Prince her Brother with his passion.  
But whilst she was descanting thus upon the novelty of this adventure, Intaphernes went to the Queen, unto whom he related the combat of Atergatis, moving her to set a value upon his zeal who had defended her glory against him that opposed it, and was vanquished, assuring her of a truth that Armatrites confessed it before he died. Also, since at the beginning of this contest between these two Princes there was several witness of it, the noise of it was spread throughout all the Court, and had come unto the Queen's ear: so that whatsoever the Prince Intaphernes said unto her, being but a confirmation of what she heard before, it was an easy matter for that Prince to dispose her unto a Protection of Atergatis: And indeed, though she had no inclination to authorise such Actions, yet she sent to tell that generous Lover how she wished he had nor been so zealous in defence of her glory. However, though she was very sorry for the disastrous accident, yet she thought herself obliged unto him, for interesting himself so far as to hazard his life for her: Adding, that she would protect him as far as justice and fittingnesse would permit her: But though Nitocris had this good opinion of Atergatis, yet the Prince of Assyria was quite contrary, and undertook to protect the kindred of the dead person in so high a manner, as made it apparent, he lamented the loss of Istrina's intended ravisher: And being a man of an infinite spirit, and penetrating wit, his fears were that Atergatis would make his vanquished Enemy confess his intentions, and knowing it, would acquaint the Queen.  
However Intaphernes meeting him as he came out from the Queen, and as he was going unto Istrina, this violent Prince knowing that Intaphernes had already spoken very advantageously in behalf of Atergatis, he stayed; I know (said he unto him in an angry tone) that you are the great abettor of the Prince Atergatis: but let me tell you that I am resolved to revenge the death of Armatrites: Since Atergatis Sir (replied Intaphernes mildly) had not fought with Armatrites, but in behalf of the Queen I had thought Sir, you would have been his protector: and I am confident you will, as soon as you have spoken with that great and glorious Queen: therefore I beseech you Sir, give me leave to rest in my own opinion, which ere long will be 〈…〉 urs: No ●o (answered the Prince of Assyria very sharply) never imagine I shall a●ter my opinion: whom I love now, I shall love as long as I live; and whom I hate now, I shall for ever hate; therefore never hope that the Queen can make me change my mind, either in what relates unto Atergatis, or any else: And therefore by consequence it is your part to conform your mind & opinion unto mine. I will ever conform myself Sir unto the dictates of Reason (replied Intaphernes) and will never fail in my duty to you or to the Queen: But Sir, I cannot cease, being the friend of Atergatis, since honour will not allow it: Then be his friend (answered the Prince of Assyria very hotly) but withal, be sure to find me your enemy. Then this violent Prince did leave Intaphernes, who had much a do to keep within compass of his respects: but striving with himself not to give any such tart replies as he desired, he expressed himself in as sweet Language as his generosity was capable of, and afterwards went unto the Princess Istrina, who expected him with much impatience, which was accompanied with a kind of fear and shame.  
As soon as he came into her Chamber, he desired her to go into her Closet, where he would try whether all Atergatis had told him was true; and whether she knew any more than he had discovered to him: so that beginning to speak, and looking attentively upon her; Methinks sister, said he unto her, that considering how I have ever lived with you, and since you have known the very secrets of my heart, and have not been ignorant of my inveterate hatred of the Assyrian Prince, you should have acquainted me how you reign in the heart of Atergatis. Atergatis (replied the Princess Istrina; and blushed) hath kept his passion so close, that though it be so he does love me, yet I knew it not, and therefore could not acquaint you with it: 'Tis true, I had of late a kind of guess at it, but I might perhaps be mistaken in my Conjectures. No, no, replied Intaphernes, you are not mistaken sister, if you thought that Atergatis adored you, and he hath given such ample testimony of his love, as you need not doubt it: But Sir, I beseech you (replied the Princess) tell me how you came to know so much? and whether Atergatis acquainted you with what he said unto me in the gardens of Semiramis? when you have related your conference sister with Atergatis (answered Intaphernes, I shall then relate unto you mine with him.  
Istrina hearing her brother say so, began to tell him very ingenuously, all that Atergatis said unto her: so that Intaphernes finding her words concur with what his friend had told him: he acquainted Istrina with all he knew concerning his Combat and his Love: and did so highly applaud the generosity of Atergatis, and hate the injustice of the Assyrian Prince, as he did what he could to make her love the first, and hate the second. And certainly there was no great difficulty in effecting his design; for the Princess Istrina thought herself so obliged unto Atergatis, for hazarding his life to prevent Armatrites from carrying her away, and was so mortally offended at the Prince of Assyria, that there could not be greater dispositions both to love and to hate, than was in her heart. So that not resisting the desires of Intaphernes, which were, that she should content herself with the Dominion of Atergatis his heart, and reject the Assyrian Throne, they consulted together how they should negotiate with Nitocris: but since they could not acquaint her with this last piece of injustice in the Prince her son without extremely grieving her, and without exposing Atergatis to the fury of that robustuous Prince, if he should come to know it, they could not resolve upon that course, so that Intaphernes disposed himself to return unto Atergatis: As he was ready to leave the Princess Istrina, she kept him a little longer; But brother (said she unto him, and blushed) do you intent to acquaint Atergatis that you have told me how he loves me? I must acquaint him Sister (answered he) if I would be welcome to him: However, replied she, I beseech you do not tell him that you have persuaded me unto any thing: I cannot tell (said he, and smiled) whether I should or no; for it would not be very advantageous for me to let him know that you would not give any credit unto my words: To save your honour, replied she, you may tell him that I did not doubt of your words, but because I suspected his; for truly brother, if you put me to the necessity of receiving Atergatis as a Lover, and as a declared Lover too, you will expose me to the greatest perplexity in the world: I pray Sister, said he unto her, what would you have me tell him? would you have me so damp all his hopes, that he shall never dare to tell you that he loves you? or would you only oblige me not to deprive you of the delight in hearing it from his own mouth, which you cannot so pleasingly receive from mine? You know so well brother what I would have you say (replied she) that I need not tell you what words you what words you should use: all I require of you is, that you would not engage me into any Conference of open Gallantry, unless you would have me use that man over well unto whom I am extremely obliged. After this, Intaphernes went out of Istrinas' Chambers, and returned to Atergatis, unto whom he related all the passages between the Queen and him; also what the Prince of Assyria said unto him, and what the Princess Istrina answered him; to the end he might prepare himself (when things were brought to such a pass as he might see her) to fit his talk unto her desires. In the mean time, the Prince of Assyria used all his arguments to persuade the Qeen that the Combat of Atergatis ought rather to incense then oblige her: but he could not do it; On the contrary, the Queen took this occasion to tell him, that he affected always to hate whatsoever she loved, and whosoever loved her: and spoke so sharply, as he went out very ill satisfied; And he was that day in such a huffing Chafe, and gave such harsh language unto Intaphernes, as that Prince as wise and respective as he was, did reply so sharply as the Prince of Assyria commanded him to keep out of his sight.  
In the mean time, the Queen to calm this Storm, sent Atergatis word that considering the violence of the Prince her Son, she should be glad if he would depart the Court for a while, until she had appeased the Kindred of Armatrites, and till she had sweetened the spirit of the Assyrian Prince. So that Atergatis out of his respects and obedience unto the Queen, prepared for a departure out of Babylon: But since he could not go, before he took his leave of the Princess Istrina, he entreated the Prince Intaphernes to obtain that permission for him; No, no, answered that Prince, you must not do so: and it seems that you do not perfectly know the person whom you love, since you do not think it requisite to deceive her, and that way oblige her unto such a business as this; but that you may receive your desired satisfaction, I will put an innocent Fallacy upon her: Atergatis then thanked Intaphernes, and told him that his fear was, that he should esteem him more than he loved his Sister; However, said he, I am sure, you have obliged me more than ever she did. In the mean time, Intaphernes to keep his word with Atergatis, did persuade the Princess his sister the next morning, to go walk in a Garden which is upon the Banks of the River Euphrates, telling her, that now she need not fear to go out of the Palace, since the Prince of Assyria had no more men with whom he could chaffer to carry her away: Yet Istrina did a long time deny him, but Intaphernes was so very earnest, as she did suspect some hidden Design in it; but her curiosity having got the mastery of her mind, she resolved to suffer herself to be deluded: And indeed the next day Intaphernes carried the Princess his Sister unto the Garden which he propounded, where Atergatis by break of day had got before them, and stayed there until Evening: For since the Owner of that place was an intimate friend nnto Intaphernes, he was very safe there; so that the man carrying Atergatis in a great and magnificent Closet, he watched there very conveniently for the Princess Istrina. In the mean time, she was no sooner come into the Garden, but Intaphernes motioned to go and see the house; But said she unto him, You propounded to bring me out to walk, and now you have no will unto it: If it were best to be in a house, certainly it were best to be in the Queen's Palace, which I believe is much better than that you would have me go into; yet Sister (replied Intaphernes) you shall see something in the house which you could not in the Queens. After he had said so, he carried Istrina into a great Hall, from thence into a Chamber which looked into a great pleasant Meadow; so that finding this Prospective very delectable, she looked out of a Window which stood open, and pleased herself with the sight of it: Whilst she stood there without any other Company but two of her women, the Prince Intaphernes opened the door of a Closet to let in Atergatis; so that when the Princess Istrina turned about she was extremely surprised at the sight of him, though she knew the Prince her Brother did not bring him thither without design: I cannot tell, Madam, (said Atergatis most respectively unto her) whether you will pardon the Prince Intaphernes, for the fallacy which he hath put upon you in my behalf; but I am sure, I had no power to yield obedience unto the Queen's Commands, that I should depart from Babylon, before I had the honour to bid you adieu. It need not be doubted, replied she but that I shall much complain of him; for indeed I cannot endure that any should deceive me, no, though it be to my advantage: However I shall very willingly pardon him this trick he hath put upon me, because he hath given me occasion of thanking you for hindering Armatrites from making me the most miserable woman in the world. It is most true (said the Prince Intaphernes, and interrupted her) and you are so much beholding unto Atergatis, that if you were the Queen of Assyria, I conceive you could not pay him the debt you owe him, unless you gave him the Crown: O, Sir, said Atergatis, you make me so ashamed at your language, as I dare hardly look upon the Princess. Since those, Sir, who are obliged, replied Istrina, have more reason to blush for shame, that those who do oblige, I must confess it my part to be ashamed, for being obliged so much beyond my Gratitude. Persons of your Merits, Madam, replied Atergatis, do always sufficiently recompense all Services that can be done them by their well acceptance of them: Therefore, Madam, if what I have done for you do not displease you, I am well paid for the Service, and for all I can do as long as I live. As the Princess Istrina was ready to reply, the Master of the house came and whispered Intaphernes in the Ear, and told him, that there was one of the Queen's Officers asked for him, and seemed as if he had some earnest business with him; so that Intaphernes being gone out of the Chamber into the Hall to speak with this Officer, Atergatis had the more liberty to express his thoughts unto the Princess Istrina, though he had none which he desired to conceal from Intaphernes, nor which he did not tell him: But since it is the quality of Love to love Secrecy, and since the words of a Lover when he speaks of his passion would not be heard by any but the person whom he loves, therefore Atergatis was very glad of this opportunity; so that not to let it slip (that he did not intend to speak openly of his passion.) I render thanks unto the Gods (said he unto the Princess Istrina) that they have not driven me unto the necessity of acquainting you the first time with a business which I could not long conceal from you: and for that the man whose name you would not know, is not unknown unto you, though he hath been disobedient unto your Commands of never letting you know it. Truly, I must needs confess (replied Istrina and blushed) that you have not disobeyed me, and that in reason I have no just cause to complain; yet I cannot choose but accuse you, though I am not able to give a name unto the Crime whereof I do accuse you: for indeed being so much obliged unto you, as I am, and esteeming you so much as I do, I dare not tell you, that you have not spoken sincerely unto the Prince my Brother, but I am confident you did not well know your own thoughts, that you were mistaken, and took one word for another, in speaking of the Princess Istrina unto Intaphernes, and that you gave the small esteem and amity you bore her, some names which did not suit well with them. Do you think, Madam (replied Atergatis) that one can keep a Medium in their esteem and love of you? Since there is a Prince, replied she, who finds in his heart to scorn me, and has a great aversion to me, methinks it a piece of vanity to imagine that you should so much as esteem me: Oh, Madam, replied Atergatis, the man you mean deserves not to be ranked amongst men, much less amongst Princes. However, Madam, since a miserable man, who is ready to depart from you, stands in need of some Consolation to keep him alive; I will believe, Madam, that you spoke as you did, purposely to give me the happy occasion of telling you myself how infinitely I adore you. No, Atergatis, replied she, that was not my Design: But on the contrary, I did believe, that by speaking as I did, I should oblige you to take time in the expressions of your affection, since it must be time only that can well do it: I know very well you have done very much for me already, but since generosity only might prompt you unto it, I beseech you give me the freedom of doubting what you say, since there cannot hap a greater mischance unto you then not to be thought very generous. Alas, Madam, said Atergatis, I beseech you do not attribute that unto my generosity which belongs unto my love; take away from me that Virtue, if you please, but do not take from me a passion which is nearest my heart; and since you, Madam, yourself did create it in me, do not destroy your own Creature, nor dispute it with me. I do not ask, Madam, that you should retaliate heart for heart, and sigh for sigh; All I desire is, you would be pleased only to accept of my heart and hearken unto sighs: for truly, Madam, since the goodness of the Prince Intaphernes is pleased to interest himself in my miseries; I may believe, he will permit me to Conquer you in the name of that amity you bear unto him, to accept of my affection without any hatred unto me. If I were not to depart from you so soon, I should wait until my eyes, my sighs, my tears and my services had given you a thousand testimonies of my passion, before I had made any use of my words to persuade you. But since I am ready to depart, methinks Madam, that a man who hath so long loved you in silence, may have the liberty of expressing his love without incurring your anger, especially having such a Preface as the Prince Intaphernes.  
You do make use Sir of such a powerful name replied Istrina, that I am much puzzled to find answer for you; yet I shall tell you, that since I am a little harder to be persuaded then the Prince my Brother is, I do not engage myself to believe all that he doth: And therefore be not offended Sir, if I suspect your words; and to speak with reason, it is to be thought that a Love which begins in absence will not last long. Oh Madam (replied Atergatis, and interrupted her) you do me the greatest wrong in the world to say that my Love begun in absence, since if you did but know when it did begin, you would find me to be the very first of your Adorers. I do not ask any recompense Madam, for all those secret torments which I have already endured for you, so you will but be pleased to set a value upon those which I shall suffer for the future.  
I know very well, that since the eyes of all the Court looked upon you Madam, as she that was to be Queen of Assyria, to offer less than the heart of a King, was an offering unworthy of you: And I can assure you, Madam, that my intentions were to obey you as long as I lived; and had I as many Crowns as you deserve, I should give them unto you with more joy than I could possess them: Not that (unless ambition be the predominate Passion of your soul) I can never hope to be happy, since it is to be feared, that you will not love a King who is not so unjust as not to love you better than a Prince who makes it his glory to be your slave: but the Queen's authority forcing the Prince her son to obey her, your own inclination cannot resist her: I beseech you Madam, be not offended at any boldness in speaking thus unto you: If ambition were a base and criminal passion, I should suspect you; But since desire of Rule is universally in the hearts of all; and since to ascend a Throne, long and bloody Wars are usually made; and since Kingdoms and Empires are subverted, I may very well fear that you will make no scruple of losing me, that you may Reign; for I must confess you may do it without any injustice to me, since I have no right in the Earth to hinder you: And I assure you Madam I am not so insolent as to offer any constraint unto your inclination: but Madam, I beseech you give me leave to tell you, that though I am fully resolved to be slave as long as my life lasts: Yet I perceive I must not live your Subject. Therefore Madam, I do beg it as a singular favour, that if it so fall out during my absence that the Prince of Assyria does resolve to obey the Queen Nitocris you will be pleased to remember, that you cannot ascend the Throne, but it must cost the miserable Atergatis his life.  
Since Sir, I am resolved to be very sincere, replied the Princess Istrina, I must tell that I will not oblige you by the resolution which I have taken of resisting the Queen more obstinately than the Prince of Assyria respects her, since I do it only for the love of myself; for believe it, I think it more glory to scorn a Prince that slights me, then to be a Queen by any unworthy way; so that generous Atergatis, you may assure yourself that you must never be my Subject, and that I shall have no other power over you, but what you do voluntarily give me.  
As Atergatis was ready to answer, the Prince Intaphernes entered, but with so many signs of discontent in his looks, as it was easy to see, he had met with some bad news since he left them: so that the Princess his sister longing to be satisfied, asked him what it was which discontented him? I understand, said he, that the Peace with Phrygia is concluded, and that the Queen prepares for a public rejoicing: and that the Prince of Assyria's marriage must follow presently after this great Feast which is to be celebrated for this concluded Peace. The man who told me this, did hear the Queen say as much: so that thinking to do me a notable pleasure in acquainting me with it, he sought me out in several places, and found me here. This news did extremely surprise Istrina, and much more Atergatis; who looking the Princess full in the eyes to discover the thoughts of her heart, did gaze upon her with extreme attention: At first she blushed, and seemed a little moved; but presently recollecting herself, I am so sure, said she unto Intaphernes, of the Prince of Assyria's aversion unto me, and of mine to him, that be the Court never so much joyed at at his Marriage and mine, yet I shall be in mourning.  
Oh my dearest Sister said the Prince Intaphernes, your expressions do infinitely please me; for what ambition soever be in my heart, yet I desire not to see you a Qu: by becoming Wife unto a Prince who hath wronged me, and who hath wronged me unpunished, because I was his Subject; and whom, if fortune had not put that difference betwixt us, I would make known, that the fate of Arms might perhaps make us equals.  
Atergatis hearing what the Prince Intaphernes said, was well satisfied, and was quit of most of his fears, but not altogether; for he knew, that the Queen Nitocris was fully resolved to press the Prince her son unto the very utmost: nor was he ignorant, that the Crown belonged unto her; that she was most absolute in her Dominion; and the ancient amity which she had with Gadates, was the reason why she would have him Reign in the person of his Daughter: so that not relying upon the words of Intaphernes and the Princess Istrina, he was in a perplexed condition, and he made a hundred several Propositions unto them both, to rid himself of his fears.  
Intaphernes for his part, advised his Sister to leave the Court, and never acquaint the Queen; but she would not hearken unto that, telling them that she owed more respect unto the Queen and Gadates, then to take any such course: Also said she, it may chance so fall out, that the Prince of Assyria will sufficiently resist her, and never put me to the necessity of incensing the Qu: Alas Madam (said Atergatis) I beseech you give me leave to tell you, that those who will never enter into Combat, can never vanquish: and so if you will not oppose the Queen, it is as much to say, that you will obey her: I do assure you Sir, replied she, I will not obey her. And if ever I be your Queen, I freely give both you, and my Brother leave to be my rebellious Subjects; but in the mean time I beseech you give me leave to temper the Queen's mind as I please: I must confess Sister, said Intaphernes, that you are very much obliged to the Queen, and that's the reason which makes me fear, that if ever she persuade the Prince her son, she will persuade you also. Since I do know my own heart better than you know it, replied she, I have more reason to trust unto my own generosity than you have: But to testify that I would not have you suspect me to be so base, as ever to marry a Prince who hath wronged you, and scorned me, I will alter my intention, and beseech the Queen (provided you be present) not to command me ever to marry the Prince her son, but that she will please to give me so much liberty as to retire myself: After this, both Intaphernes and Atergatis do return him most hearty thanks, and applauded her generosity: But she being a little displeased, that the Prince her brother should suspect her of any weakness, did give him a handsome check for it, which did the more confirm him in his belief of her generosity.  
In the mean while, since it was resolved upon, that he should go unto the Queen the same night, he prepared himself to leave her: And since Intaphernes did most dearly love Atergatis, and thought that the more he engaged Istrina with him, the more averse she would be unto the Prince of Assyria: he conjured her to accept of his affection, and to look upon him as a man who of all the world was most worthy of her.  
Atergatis for his part, was full of his tender and passionate expressions: But, say, do what they both could, she would not engage herself unto Atergatis further than terms of friendship and acknowledgement. But to tell you truly, I believe her heart did promise more than her mouth; and from that day, she began to put a difference between the amity she used to her friends, & the affection she had to that Prince.  
However it were, as soon as she returned to the Palace, she perceived that what the Queen had spoken was known to all the world, and that they began already to look upon her as Queen; for she saw such obsequeousness in all that addressed themselves unto her, as it was easy to know their thoughts, and that their own Interests did move them so to do.  
On the other side, the Prince of Assyria knowing more precisely than Intaphernes, how the Queen intended his Marriage did take a resolution, which as you know Madam, hath been very unfortunate unto you, since if he had not left the Court of Assyria, he had never come into the Court of Cappadocia. However, without any further deliberation, his design was to leave the Court, to get out of the Kingdom, and to travel unknown, until the Queen his Mother had changed her mind, and that the Princess Istrina was married,  
But since neither the Prince Intaphernes, nor the Princess his Sister did know of his intentions, they spoke jointly to the Queen, and beseeched her to let them retire from the Court, and never to command them back: But the more they complained against the Prince of Assyria, the more Intaphernes was sensible of his affronts; and the more Istrina begged of the Queen never to marry, the more earnest was the Qu: to have them stay in the Court, and was more resolved to make up the match, which she had so long desired. Istrina added her Tears unto her Prayers, and Intaphernes was very importunate, but all in vain, for neither side would yield, nor change their minds.  
In the mean while the melancholy Atergatis hearing from Intaphernes how all things passed, would not yet stir from the place where he had a business of that importance, but resolved to stay a while concealed in Babylon, until he knew a little better how squares would go; but he stayed in such a melancholy condition, that if Intaphernes had not cheered him up, his melancholy had been stronger than his Reason: That which added the most misery to his melancholy, was, the King of Assyria, who as I told you, having a design to steal out of Court, would needs, to delude the Queen, appear the next morning at the Feast for the Peace of Phrygia, in a high magnificence. He seemed less fierce than ordinary, and more civil to the Princess Istrina: so that all the Court thinking he would obey the Queen, the noise of it came unto the ears of Atergatis and Intaphernes, who would not participate of 't 〈…〉 diversions that day: And so that these two Princes were both of them equa 〈…〉 d, though from different Causes. Intaphernes did write that night unto his Sister to know whether it was true that the Prince of Assyria was more pliant to her then usual; but as he was sending his Letter, he received one from her, which contained these words.  
ISTRINA UNTO INTAPHERNES.  
Brother,  
I Cannot stay until the morning to tell you, that though the Prince of Assyria hath changed his behaviour to me, yet I shall not change my mind; & if I expressed any joys to see him less uncivil, it was out of my hopes to make him better know the aversion which I shall ever have unto him: Adieu, do not suspect me of any weakness, and think always of my Generosity as you would have me think of your upon the like occasion.  
Istrina.  
INtaphernes had no sooner read this Letter, but he went to show it unto Atergatis, who was both glad and sad at it; for he was glad to hear that the Princess Istrina was constant to her first resolution, but he was very sorry to hear that confirmed which had formerly so much grieved him; so that there being a Miscellany of these two Contraries in his soul, he knew not how to express his thoughts by his words.  
As for the Prince Intaphernes, he knew not what to think; for he could not imagine why a Prince who had behaved himself so harshly, should change in so short a time. Yet in his answer to the Princess Istrina, he excited her to continue generous, and assured her, that he would see her the next day: yet Madam, this Princess hath confessed since unto the Prince her Brother, that she was all the night following extremely restless, for truly, Atergatis had exceedingly obliged her: Atergatis was very amicable, Atergatis did infinitely love her, and she had no inclination to hate him. Moreover the Prince of Assyrias contempt of her, had strangely incensed her spirits against him: and his affronts offered unto the Prince Intaphernes did extremely exasperate her. But on the other side, when she considered what Glory it was to be Queen of Assyria, to succeed one of the most Illustrious Princesses in the world: To command in the greatest Town upon Earth, to see none but the Gods above her, and to have but a very few equals in the whole Universe; she found it a piece of difficulty to keep close unto her resolution.  
As soon as inclined unto Ambition, Honour and Love did command her to be generous, so that she returned to her first thoughts, and resolutely defended herself.  
But whilst Atergatis, Intaphernes, and Istrina were each of them descanting upon this adventure; and whilst the Queen was preparing to speak the next morning unto the Prince her Son, and to press obedience upon him: That Prince without any company but three of his men, departed from Babylon two hours before day.  
It is not easy for me, Madam, to tell you what effects this departure did produce in the Court: It would be task enough to acquaint you with the thoughts of Istrina, Intaphernes, and Atergatis, unless I should also mention the sorrows and anger of the Queen, to see that the Prince her Son should so much fail in his respects; yet she dissembled some part of her Resentments. But as for Istrina, she did so little hide her Joys at the Prince's departure (though in point of honour, she seemed a little angry) that all the Court perceived it; for she being then but very young she co 〈…〉 ot confine all her tumultuous thoughts unto the Closet of her heart. As for Intaphernes, though he was something more a Master of himself, and went as others did to the Queen, yet he was very glad to observe that the departure of this Prince did not trouble her. As for Atergatis, he had such Raptures of joy as never man had; Such, Madam, as though he did never in his life write unto the Princess Istrina, yet now he writ to acquaint her with his thoughts, ask her pardon for rejoicing at her loss of a Crown, and hinted unto her so many passages of Wit, of Gallantry, and Passion, as it was apparent; the heart which guided the hand that writ this Letter was infinitely in Love. The joys of Atergatis were the more augmented, because he hoped that now the Prince of Assyria was gone, the Queen perhaps would revoke, or at least shorten his Exile; yet he was deceived in his hopes: for be pleased to know, Madam, that since the friends of Armatrites aimed only at the ruin of Atergatis, and knowing that he had seen the Princese Istrina in that Garden where Intaphernes carried her, and having learned also that he was still in Babylon, did advertise the Queen of it; so that the Queen having a most Penetrating Wit, and observing that the Princess Istrina was joyed at the Prince of Assyrias departure, and far from grieving at the loss of a Crown; she began to suspect something from this interview, of which she had never told her: And her suspicion was the more violent, because she remembered how zealously the Prince Intaphernes pleaded for Atergatis, after his Combat with Armatrites. So that comparing all these Circumstances together, she desired to be satisfied in the business: and indeed so she was very easily; for since Istrina stood in fear of her, and did highly reverence her, she had not power to deny this interview in the Garden; nor did she in that disorder so much as think upon any Colour for it. Also she was much surprised when Nitocris asked her, why Intaphernes desired her to see Atergatis; Madam (replied Istrina and blushed) since Atergatis was ever a good friend both unto Intaphernes and me, he desired that I should bid him adieu, and I did not deny him: Fie, fie, Istrina (answered the Queen to make her confess) you need not make a mystery of such a business: this meeting hath some other cause more than I know; but I will know it, and that more particularly from your own mouth. The Princess Istrina seeing the Queen so very urgent, did make an indirect answer; but Nitocris still pressing her more, and not giving her time to consider upon the business, she forced her at last to tell her in a tumultuous manner, how she was obliged unto Atergatis, acquainting the Queen with the Prince of Assyrias Injustice, in offering to steal her away: and acquainting her with the generosity of Atergatis, and how she was displeased with the first, and more esteemed the second. But all this did not succeed according to Istrinas' hopes: for though the young Princess never told the Queen that Atergatis was in love with her, or that she did attribute his action only unto the generosity of his Soul: Yet Nitocris did smell the truth, for since some flying reports went of Atergatis his passion, she had wit enough to consider all these things in the true sense. But the worst was, the Queen imagining that Istrina had of a long time known of the passion of Atergatis, she thought, that perhaps this secret piece of Gallantry was the cause why the Prince her Son was so obstinate. Not but that she knew the Virtue of Istrina very well; yet looking upon Atergatis as an Obstacle unto the thing which she most of any thing in the world desired: she commanded a new that he should depart the Court, and not return till she recalled him. Intaphernes whom Istrina durst not acquaint with what she had confessed unto the Queen, did beseech her not to treat a man so rigorously who had fought in defence of her Glory: but she absolutely denied him, and told him afterwards all she knew, & what she thought of Atergatis his Love of Istrina; So that Intaphernes whose Soul was all Sincerity and Generosity, confessed more than the Princess his Sister did: for he told her positively all the passage, and with so much ingenuity that the Queen perceived she was mistaken in thinking that Istrina did know of Atergatis his love long before; So that being very glad a Princess whom she dearly loved was justified in her Opinion: She did with more moderation admit of Intaphernes his aggravations of the Prince of Assyrias Injustice, in desiring to steal away his Sister both for Atergatis and Armatrites,: I do very plainly see, said the Queen, that the Prince my Son is very unjust; But for all that Intaphernes, as long as he is living I shall still be in some hopes of Istrinas being Queen of Assyria: And therefore I would not have Atergatis have any thoughts of her; so that though the friends of Armatrites did not press me as they do to banish him: yet banished he must be, because he loves Istrina, and because he is a man too well accomplished for her to hate him. However, assure him, that if he will change Passions, and let Ambition take the place of Love in his heart: I shall ere long fully satisfy it by conferring upon him so considerable Government, that though he shall be banished from Babylon, yet his Exile shall pass rather for a recompense then a punishment. Intaphernes then offerred to oppose the Queen, but she imposed silence upon him, so that it must be as she would have it, and Atergatis, must depart, yes, and depart without a sight of the Princess whom he loved: for the Queen did cause her Commands to be so strictly observed, that Intaphernes could not imagine which way he should procure that satisfaction to his friend, who had departed without any Consolation; if Intaphernes had not promised him to present his Letter unto the Princess Istrina and oblige her to answer him. I shall not, Madam, both trouble you and myself with a relation how the Prince Atergatis spent the first months of his Banishment: nor how careful he was in writing his Letters unto Istrina, and Intaphernes, nor with what exactness Intaphernes answered him, nor with what zeal that Prince spoke of Atergatis unto Istrina: lest she should forget him, and not enough hate the Prince of Assyria; for I should be too long and tedious in telling things so little pertinent or necessary: But give me leave to tell you, Madam, how one that was Cousin to Armatrites, hearing that Atergatis did often write unto Intaphernes; he did advertise the Queen of it, but he was not so cunning as to keep it from the knowledge of Intaphernes, therefore such sharp language passed between them as they fell to blows: And Intaphernes fought with so much courage, that after he had killed his Enemy, he defended himself most stoutly against three of his men, who seeing their Master dead, would needs be revenged: But though they were valiant, yet he killed one of them, wounded another, and put the third to flight, having none but the Gods and himself; for he met him with whom he fought in a long walk upon the Banks of Euphrates, at the end of which he had left his men, and they could not be so soon in with him, as he was Conqueror: 'tis true his Victory was dearly bought, for he was dangerously wounded in two places: But since the Surgeons did say there was no danger in his wounds, it may very well be said, that the glory he got in the Combat was worth more than the blood he lost.  
In the mean time, the Queen perceiving how zealous Intaphernes was in all things that related unto Atergatis, she resolved to continue his Banishment, not only as long as the Prince her Son was absent, but also as long as that unjust Prince would not marry Istrina: and yet she was very favourable unto Atergatis in a hundred things of another nature, both to his person and other his relations. Thus this unfortunate Lover, not setting any period to his banishment, but the marriage of her he loved, with a Prince whom he hated, did lead the most miserable life of any man in the world; yet he received so much consolation as to have some Letters from Istrina; but he received so much sorrow also as to know how that wise Princess told the Queen, that the affection of Atergatis was very indifferent unto her: yet she told him, how she beseeched her to send her back unto the Prince her Father, to the end that she should not hinder the return of the Prince her Son; but she durst say no more, yet she explained herself a little more clearly a few days after the Combat of Intaphernes: for the Prince of Assyria sent one of his men secretly into Babylon to scatter several Tickets in the Town, by which he declared that he would never return into Assyria until the Princes Istrina was married, and beseeching the Queen not to marry her unto Atergatis, for some reasons which he would give her, when she had put him into a condition of return: So that this Prince by this means revenged himself upon Atergatis, who would not suffer him to steal away Tstrina for him; for the Queen upon this did confirm her resolutions of keeping that Prince still in Exile.  
In the mean time, the Princess Istrina, who till now could never let it be known that she did not hate Atergatis, began openly to inveigh against the Prince of Assyrias Injustice, who did not only affront her in his refusal of marriage, but did most tyrannically prescribe things which did not belong unto him, and such things as upon which the whole tranquillity of her life depended. But the more she complained, the more she retarded the return of Atergatis, who hearing of the passages in Babylon, was grieved to the very Soul: yet there was such resentments in the heart of Istrina, as would have joyed his Soul had he known them; for certainly the Prince of Assyrias Tickets, and the Proceedings of the Queen did make her resolve to look upon Atergatis as the only man in the world, who did merit her affection. But, Madam, not to abuse your patience any longer, I must in a very few words slight over all the petty passages in Babylon, whilst the Prince of Assyria under the name of Philidaspes was a Lover of you, and a Hater of the Illustrious Artamenes at Synope: for it would take too much time to express how sad the Queen was, because she knew not what was become of the Prince her Son, and to express the sad heart of Atergatis at his absence from her he loved: the vexation of Istrina to see the absent Prince of Assyria an Obstacle unto her happiness: How angry Intaphernes was to have an Enemy of whom he neither could nor durst be revenged, & to what a trouble the Prince Mazares was put unto, in being an universal Mediator to appease the Queen whensoever she was incensed, either against the Prince her Son, or against Intaphernes, or against Istrina, or against Atergatis. Therefore, Madam, without more mention of what passed in Babylon, whilst the pretended Philidaspes followed the King your Father in the wars which then he had against the Kings of Pontus and Phrygia, and whilst the Voyage of the Illustrious Artamenes to Thomeris lasted; I shall represent unto you only such things as happened after the Queen knew that the Prince her Son had carried you away. For truly, Madam, I owe this testimony unto the virtue of that great Princess, as I must assure you, that this News did extremely grieve her, as but for the Prince Mazares, she had disinherited the Prince her Son from the Crown: Then did she repent that ever she crossed the inclinations of Istrina, and did not only give her most tender and obliging language, but the Prince Intaphernes also who was gone a little before into Bithynia, where Arsamones was waging War to recover the Crown of his Ancestors. In the mean while, Atergatis who did interest himself unto every thing which concerned Intaphernes, did follow him to the War, desiring since he was Exiled, to pass his time in the Service of that Prince unto whom Istrina had relation. I am obliged, Madam, to acquaint you also, that if this great Queen had lived she had besieged Opis, whither the Prince her Son had conveyed you, assuring you that her only design in it was to restore you unto the King your Father: But, Madam, death prevented the execution of her generous Design, which would have saved many a sorrow. But since this great Princess at the end of her days looked pale death in his grim face, without any fear, and kept her reason clear unto her very last breath, she would not leave the Princess Istrina exposed unto the violences of the new King: but knowing how much I ever devoted myself unto the Service of the Prince Intaphernes, she did me the honour to make choice of me with the trust of the Princess Istrina, appointing me to convey her into Bythinia as soon as she was dead; and having no mind, she should go unto the Prince her Father, since he being within the Dominions of the Prince her son, he should offer some violence unto her: Therefore, making choice of a more safe Sanctuary, she would have me carry her unto Arsamones, with whom, as I already told you, were the Princes Intaphernes and Atergatis, who both of them had highly signalised themselves in that War: so that Madam, I accepting of this charge which the Queen committed unto me, and promising most faithfully to perform my Trust, this great Queen of ever honoured memory was no sooner expired, but I prepared for obedience.  
The Prince Mazanes who infinitely loved Intaphernes, esteemed Atergatis, and honoured Istrina, did for the more safety of this Princess give me a Convoy, himself waiting upon her some forty furlongs out of Babylon. I cannot tell you Madam how great was the grief of the Princess Istrina for the death of Nitocris, for I have not words apt enough to express it: but I can tell you, that the looking upon the Prince of Assyria as the cause of her loss by reason of grief which your carrying away caused, did curse him with as many imprecations as you yourself could do. However, as time is the best salve for all sorrows, so when we came into Bythinia, her tears were a little dried up, and her sorrows slacked.  
As soon as we were upon the Frontiers of that Kingdom, and quite out of the King of Assyria's power, the Princess did stay to rest herself, & to give me time to acquaint the Prince Intaphernes and the Prince Atergatis with her Arrival: You may well imagine Madam, that the bad news of Nitocris death was not sweetened by this, especially to Atergatis, though he was to see Istrina, beyond all his hopes; for Madam, be pleased to know, that the Messenger whom I sent unto these two Princes, who were then at Calcedonia, where the Court was, did find them ready to come unto Babylon in a disguise, purposely for the safety of the Princess Istrina, not knowing how the Queen's prudence provided for it.  
So that being now out of all fears of the new Assyrian Kings violence, and hearing that they should see her much sooner than they hoped, the sorrows of Intaphernes vanished, and much more the sorrows of Atergatis, since he was not so much obliged unto the Queen by reason of his Exile: However, to lose no time, in lieu of answering Istrina's Letters and mine, they went in all haste unto Arsamones, to acquaint him with Istrina's Arrival, and to desire Sanctuary for her: since Arsamones was much obliged unto them, he was very glad of such an occasion to gratify the services they had done him in the Wars: so that consenting very cheerfully unto their desires, he acquainted the Queen of Bythinia with it, the very same hour, who for the more honour of the Princess Istrina, did send her own Coach to meet her a day's journey from Calcedonia, and also a particular Compliment unto Istrina.  
On the other side, Intaphernes and Atergatis having an earnest desire to see her, did make incredible haste unto the place where she was, friendship and love being sharp spurs unto both those Princes, who did very pleasingly surprise us; for we could not imagine it possible for them to negotiate with Arsamones, and be there so soon. It is not an easy matter for me to tell you Madam, how infinitely these three persons were joyed: Intaphernes and Atergatis let theirs appear, but as for Istrina she partly concealed hers.  
Their conversation yet began in tears, but yet their Joys to see each other, dissipating all clouds of sorrow, they began to relate all the passages which happened since they saw each other; they complained against the King of Assyria with such kind of aggravations as sometimes useth to comfort such as have freedom to complain of any Injustice done them. Yet they did not vent all their thoughts, for the passion of Atergatis forged a thousand which he never uttered, yet he had so much satisfaction as to ease himself and his heart a little; for after they had talked a long time with Istrina, Intaphernes being desirous to confer with me, did draw me aside, and left Atergatis at liberty to vent his passion; I know not Madam, said he unto her, whether you remember those cruel words you gave me at Babylon, when you told me that a Passion which begun by absence never lasted long. So many cross adventures have happened since, replied she, that I do not remember what we said; but (said she, and smiled) if I did say so, I think that I did not speak out of reason; for since absence doth often destroy the most firm grounded affections, well may it destroy a green beginning one.  
It seems then Madam, replied Atergatis, that my affection to you is not of such a Nature as time and absence can destroy, since it is most certain I do love and adore you more now, then when I left you; and I may truly say, that there was not a day passed over, wherein my Love did not kindle new fires to burn my heart, and make me more miserable: For the more of the world I saw, the more I knew how to value your worth. And the Court of Bythinia, though full of excellent Beauties, hath let me know, that you are not only a person of most absolute perfection in Assyria, but in the world, since I am most sure that all the places I ever came in could not produce one comparable.  
Though Aplauds be very pleasing, replied Istrina, principally from a man whom one esteems, yet I beseech you be a little sparing of them, lest I should suspect you of flattery, and doubt of what you shall hereafter tell me: Provided Madam, you do not doubt my affection, replied Atergatis, I do not fear your doubting the truth of my words, when I commend you more than ever I did any; for truly Madam, when I tell you that you are the fairest person of the whole world, if you will not believe me, I beseech you believe your Glass. If I tell you that you have more wit than those who have the most, that very same wit which knows others so perfectly, will not permit you to doubt of what I say, nor suffer you to accuse me of any untruth when I extol all your virtues: And if I were sure you would as well believe I love you, as you must needs believe yourself lovely, I should be much happier than I am: and indeed Madam, unless you do not esteem me at all, you cannot choose but think that I do admire you.  
I do assure you Sir, replied Istrina, I do so little know myself, as I cannot tell 〈…〉 whether one doth me right or wrong; when they esteem me much, or not at all: However, I do once more entreat you not to commend me over much, and I do conjure you not to tell me any more of your affection; for (said she, and smiled) though I would believe you loved me, yet I ought not to give credit unto your words, therefore Sir, I entreat you to live with me as the Prince my brother doth; for I do assure you that though he does not tell me that he loves me, yet I am very confident of his affection.  
Oh Madam, said Atergatis, Love and Friendship are things very different: Friendship may be dumb, and indeed it were an odd thing, that all one's Friends should still be telling that they love; but as for love Madam, it cannot be so: Indeed it is so far from being dumb as you would have it, that it must be eloquent; and aggravations are so natural unto it, as one may say, it is above all aggravations, since certainly one can never love too much: It is a crime to talk of any thieg but his passion, when a Lover is so happy as to be alone with the person he adores. Judge therefore Madam, I beseech you, whether I have not cause to complain against that rigorous command of not talking unto you of my passion; and whether I have not reason to make my Complaints unto the Prince Intaphernes, I had rather you made your Complaints Sir, replied she, unto my Brother, then unto me; yet I hope, replied he, that he would move you to do me Justice. However, I beseech you, give me leave to ask you Madam, whether after your once intended thoughts of Reigning over all Assyria, and the thoughts of having infinite multitudes for your Subjects, you can be satisfied with having only the unfortunate Atergatis for your slave?  
As Istrina was ready to reply, the Prince Intaphernes came unto them, and told the Princess his Sister that she was to go unto the Court, to the end she might know how to behave herself: He made a short description of the hasty and imperious humour of Arsamones, of the virtue and prudence of the Queen Arbiana; but when he came to mention the Princess of Bythinia, he applauded her so highly, and in such a manner, as if he feared he could never commend her enough; insomuch as Istrina imagined that he loved her as much as he esteemed her. Did I not know (said she unto the Prince her brother) that you have been always in the Army, since you came into Bythinia, I should think that the beauty of this Princess whom you so highly applaud, had very much engaged your heart: But since I hear of all your Victories, I cannot believe you will let yourself be vanquished: Doubtless Sister, replied Intaphernes, we have been Conquerors in the Wars, ●ut yet Love hath conquered me: And that liberty which I preserved amidst all the Babylonian Beauties is lost at Calcedonea, by the sight of the Bythinian Princess. Therefore my dearest Sister, give me leave to plead for Atergatis unto you with more zeal than ever I did; for now I know by my own experience what this tyrannical passion is, which causeth the greatest delight, and the greatest miseries of life, and therefore Sister I do interest myself more than ever I did in the passion of Atergatis unto you.  
I should have thought, replied Istrina, that those who are in Love, would have been so taken up with their own passion, as they would not have had leisure to employ themselves in the passions of others; but for aught I see, I am deceived in my opinion. Yet I do perceive that I must prepare myself for as much friendship to the Princess of Bythinia, as you have Love, if I will preserve myself in your good opinion. Certainly Sister, replied he, if you do not love her, you will do me a great displeasure, but that I believe will never happen, since it is absolutely impossible to know her, and not to love her, especially having a soul so sensible of Merit as you have.  
This Princess (added he) hath this conformity in her fortune with yours, that she once thought to have been the Queen of Pontus, as you of Assyria, though both failed upon different causes. She hath a Brother also whom she loves as you have, and who most tenderly loves her: he is absent from her, as I have been from you: and I do find such a sutableness between her fortune and yours; that though you do not love her by acquaintance, yet you must love her by sympathy: When we come to Calcedonia (replied she) I shall tell you more; In the mean time, I beseech you Brother tell in what condition is the War? For I must confess I do heartily wish it were ended.  
Though Arsamenes replied Intaphernes hath always conquered, yet he hath much to conquer; for the King of Pontus, though he have lost two Battles, yet he is ●ow in the Head of an Army, having still for his Retreat the prime City which is not easy to be taken; for doubtless you know that Heraclia by reason of the Sea, is very strong, having it for its situation.  
On the other side, Araminta his Sister is in Cabara in the hands of one of her Lovers, named Artanus, who was carried away when the King of Pontus returned unto Heraclia, after he had obtained his liberty by the generosity of that renowned Stranger, called Artamenes, who hath made the Arms of Ciaxares so famous, and whose reputation is so high: so that though he had vanquished the King of Pontus, defeated his Army, and taken Heraclia, yet he must after all that Fight with Artanus, and take Cabura.  
Alas dear brother, cried out Istrina, how many dangers and vexations are to be endured before Peace be in Bythinia, or in my heart? After this, since the love of Intaphernes was new, and violent, he could not forbear speaking of it, so that the Princess Istrina out of complacency did hearken unto him according to his desires: I beseech you Brother (said she unto him) how came Love to be predominate in your heart? Did you love the Princess of Bythinia as soon as you saw her? Is it the charms of her beauty, or her wit that hath captivated you? and was your Passion as violent at first as now? When Atergatis & I came first into Bythinia, replied Intaphernes, we went straight into the Army: so that not having seen the Princess till the Army drew into Winter quarters, it was not until then my heart began to be engaged: 'Tis true, that I may reckon my Captivity from the first day I saw the Princess of Bythinia, since my eyes did no sooner see her, than my heart admired her; methought I had found that which I had long sought after: her beauty did strike me into admiration, but I fancied the same Idea before.  
At the first, I fancied her to have as much wit as beauty, and as much virtue as either; so that fancying her to be full of perfection, I loved her, and told myself that he who was so happy as to have her Love, was the happiest man alive. Do not wonder to hear me speak incertainly upon the passages of my heart; for the truth is, dear Sister, I had such different apprehensions, that I can hardly give a true relation. The thing I know of most certainty is, that I admired her as much as I was able; but that which most made me lose myself, was the first words which I heard from the mouth of this admired person, which were not only full of Wit and Civility, but also of Commendations which she gave me; for it seems Fame had flattered me unto her, for some Acts which I had done in the Wars.  
After this, Sister, never ask me what I did, for indeed I did nothing but endeavour to fasten those chains which did captivate me with as much care, as others took to break theirs.  
In the mean time, I suffered without Complaint: And if Atergatis had not given that Princess sometimes an occasion to guess at my passion, by some discourse he had with her, she had still been ignorant that I was the man who did adore her with most reverence.  
After this, since it was very late, it was that night resolved that they should depart the next morning, and to talk together all that day. We departed from that place which was three day's journey from Calcedonia, and by the way missed Arbianas' Coach which stayed for us, with one of that Queen's chief Officers, who was charged with a thousand obliging Compliments unto the Princess Istrina. The truth is, she was exceedingly well received both by Arsamones, and Arbiana, and the Princess their Daughter: They lodged her in the best Chamber of the Palace, and did her all the honours that were due unto her Merit, as well as unto her Quality. It chanced also that the Princess of Bythinia had as great an inclination unto Istrina, as Istrina, had unto her, so that both of them did quickly love each other most tenderly, and friendship did grow as soon in their hearts, as love did in the heart of Intaphernes. Since their Chambers were very near together, they saw one another every hour, and were such intimate friends, that they trusted each other with their Adventures: so that the Princess of Bythinia acquainted Istrina with the love of Sinnesis to her, with the death of that Prince, and all passages even unto that very hour. Istrina for her part, imparted the Love of Atergatis unto her, so that there was a mutual exchange of secrets between those two Beauties.  
In the mean time, though the Princess Istrina did much grieve at the death of the Queen Nitocris; yet since she came into a Court which victory had filled with joys, she must be a sharer in the diversions. Not but that the absence of the Prince Spitridates did much grieve both the Queen of Bythinia, and the Princess her Daughter, and all of any quality in Court: Yet for all that, since Arsamones was a Prince who would make himself feared, and who as fruits of his victory would enjoy all the delights in Calcedonia, he said that it was but just, that all those who had taken so much pains in helping him to vanquish, should also take the pleasures of the Victory. Yet Madam, you cannot imagine this Court like unto that of a great King in time of Peace, where men of Sword and Blood use not to be, but you must conceive it to be a Miscellany of all sorts of People, Officers of the Army, Volunteers, Courtiers, Soldiers of Fortune, Justices, Magistrates, Priests, and indeed all sorts: For since the Wars had put all in disorder; and since none did strive to appear above his degree, in those bad times: and since every one would be intruders, one might then have seen in the King of Bythinia's Presence Chamber, some men in such a shabbid habit as durst not look in at the Gates in times of Peace.  
But since he stood in need of such to complete his Conquest, he would not disoblige the men of meanest quality, but suffered them to come into the Court, until he was see led in his Throne. However, since men of real worth were mingled amongst the rest, the Court was magnificent, and its Tumult had something so delightful in it, as was not at all wearisome.  
This Court being such as I have described, all delights were as if it were in a crowd: There was Horsraces, Barryers', Tilting, Dancing, M●sick and Feasts: But in all these Intaphernes and Atergatis did behave themselves so admirably, as they did attract the admiration of all: The greatest advantage unto them was, that they got the esteem of those Princesses whom they adored, it not being possible to see two so equally excellent in such and so many several things, but to give them commendations according to their merits.  
I remember one day amongst the rest, when there was a great Assembly about the Queen of Bythinia, Intaphernes danced with such a becoming grace, as all the company talked of nothing else all that night. And the truth is, Madam, this Prince who fought like a Lion in the Field, did dance as if he used nothing else; for he did it in so noble a manner, and with so free, so gallant, so easy, and so natural an Air, as he could not choose but charm all eyes.  
But to return from whence I dig 〈…〉ed; one night when a Ball was kept by the Queen Arbiana, the Princess Istrina being retired into the Chamber of the Bythinian Princess, who requested her so to do, that they might have some talk together; though it was something late, they began to confer together of all passages, and what they had observed at the Ball.  
After they had discoursed upon those that were fair, and that those were not; of such as danced much, and such as danced but a little; who did well, and who not. The Princess of Bythinia began to commend Intaphernes and Atergatis: after which, perceiving that Istrina durst neither contradict her, nor consent unto what she said, she began to chide her, affirming that since she would not commend Atergatis, she must needs love him as well as the Prince her Brother: However, said she, if it be so, you do an injury unto our friendship; for truly I have imparted my very heart unto you, but it seems you hide yours, since you tell me that Atergatis loves you, and will not confess that you love him. I am yet more culpable, Madam, than you imagine, said Istrina craftily (to be revenged on her) for I have more secrets than one, which I will not impart unto you. How Madam (replied the Princess of Bythinia) if so; you must resolve not to sleep this night, unless you impart them to me: If I do impart them, replied Istrina, it must be this very hour; for I believe if you give me time to think upon it, I shall never impart them, nor indeed do I think I ever shall: Surely they are strange secrets (replied the Princess of Bythinia) since they come so hardly out; there is one amongst the rest, replied Istrina, which I would never impart, but I am sure you will know it, though I never speak a word. If so (said the Princess of Bythinia) my obligation will be the less, since I must know it by another; but be what it will, I beseech you tell me what it is? Since you will needs know it Madam, replied she and laughed, I must tell you that you are the most cruel woman in the world, in captivating those who come to sacrifice their lives to set the King your Father upon the Throne. For truly Madam, Intaphernes is at this present so little his, and so absolutely yours, that it may very well be said, you only are able to make his destiny good or bad as you shall please.  
How's this Madam (replied the Princess of Bythinia) believe me you are too full of revenge: Surely I did not offend you so much as to make you punish me by any Raillary which hath a false foundation. I wish the Gods, replied Istrina, that it were not true for Intaphernes his sake: Yet Madam (added she, and assumed a more serious countenance) what I told you laughing ought not to incense you either against the Prince my Brother, or against myself; for I did not tell it you by any orders from him, nor with intentions to let him know I told you, but only to know of you what you would have me advise him unto? I thought (replied the Princess of Bythinia) that you had spoke in a way of Raillary; but since you speak in a serious manner, and since my love to you will not permit me to conceal any thing which is in my heart from you, I must tell you, that I should be very sorry the Prince Intaphernes should engage himself so far as to love me, because I do infinitely esteem him; for after experience, what trouble it is to resist one's self, I will not expose myself unto it again.  
The King my Father is so bend upon his own will, and doth so absolutely require mine to be conformable unto his, as I will never resolve upon any thing lest it should be contrary to his will; therefore, since it is to be feared that I shall never have the glory to be loved by such an accomplished Prince as Intaphernes is, it is requisite both for his tranquillity and mine, that you advise him only to esteem me in the way of friendship.  
I beseech you Madam, replied Istrina, that you will be pleased to teach me what course I should take to make him obey you; so that knowing how to cure the Prince my Brother of his love to you, I may also cure Atergatis of his love to me. Since Atergatis doth love one that is infinitely lovely (replied the Princess of Bythinia) I do not think it so easy a matter to cure him as Intaphernes. And since Intaphernes, replied she, doth adore a Princess infinitely more accomplished than Istrina, it's probable he will not be so easily cured as Atergatis. Seriously Madam (replied the Princess of Bythinia) you would do me a very notable pleasure if you would remove out of Intaphernes his heart that slight passion which I will believe he hath unto me; yet transact so with him I beseech you, said she and blushed, as I do not lose his esteem. Truly Madam, replied Istrina, I do think it a thing impossible to quench the flames which you have kindled in the heart of Intaphernes: However, replied she, do what you can to hinder him from telling me of his affection: Tell him, that if he never speak of it, I have promised you to behave myself as civilly to him as I do at this present, and for your sake, be as free with him as hitherto I have been: Really Madam, replied Istrina, it is very strange you should speak this: However (added she, and smiled) to keep you from treating Intaphernes more coldly then ordinary; I must tell you, that if you do treat him so, I shall acquaint him with the discourse which we have had; for though it be not much in his advantage, yet I am confident he will be very glad to hear how you know of his Love.  
I beseech you Madam, replied the Princess of Bythinia, do not so, unless you provoke me to a revenge in acquainting Atergatis with some flames which I have discovered to flash out of your heart against your will. Then Madam, you must promise me, replied Istrina, to carry yourself in appearance as if you did not know of his affection, and yet to be something obliging, as if you did not hate him. I do not see, replied the Princess of Bythinia, and blushed, that this promise which you would have me make is at all necessary; for truly to speak with the same ingenuous sincerity as we use to do of things. I do not think one can be angry that such a very accomplished man should love one: I know that one may not love him, and fully intent never to do it; but I must confess I cannot understand why one should hate a man for no other reason but because he loves; and I am persuaded, that though one do hate a Lover, yet perhaps they may not hate his passion, unless it force one beyond respect; for in that 〈◊〉 conceive; it cannot be termed Love which is not full of respect: and I should easily hate such as should not behave themselves as they ought to do.  
Since Madam the Prince my brother, answered Istrina, can never fail in his reverend respects of you, you do me the greatest pleasure in the world to speak as you do; for since Madam you say that one may not love a Lover, and yet not hate his passion, I am most confident that you will tolerate the passion of Intaphernes: And if you will be pleased to give me leave to tell you what I think; I must tell you that I do not despair of my brother's happiness: For truly Madam (said she, and smiled) it is a marvellous piece of cunning to separate a Lover and Love: and for my part, I must freely confess I cannot do it, nor can I understand how one can affect to be loved by a man whom one cannot love; nor delight in any affection, and hate him that owesit. For my particular, I confess that I have not so much wit as to distinguish a Lover from his Love; for if the Love please me, it is because the Lover doth not displease me: and I must maintain, that one cannot long take pleasure in being loved by any one, unless his person as well as his passion; for a Lover and love are inseparable, and one cannot love the one, and hate the other.  
Did I not know replied the Princess of Bythinia, that your aim Madam is, to draw some advantageous consequences for Intaphernes, and disadvantageous unto me by talking thus, I should extremely wonder to hear you maintain so bad a cause; For you know as well as I can tell you, that one is glad to be esteemed by ones greatest Enemies: And it is so natural to desire the being Loved, as it may easily be maintained that Love never angered any: But we are apt to confound the effects of Passion, with the passion itself, as well as the faults of Lovers with love; but certainly, separate the faults of Lovers from them, and they cannot displease, though the Lovers themselves may.  
However it be, said Istrina, I shall content myself with the happiness of the Prince my brother, because his passion doth not at this present incense you; for I am most confident, that if you did hate him Madam, it would vex you: I should doubtless be very unjust (replied the Princess of Bythinia) if I should hate the Prince Intaphernes who hath done the King my Father such glorious service: But Madam, I must tell you, there is a great distance between hatred and love. However added she (to conclude this Conference) since it is very late, it is time to sleep, lest that lively colour in your cheeks lose its freshness in the morning, and lest the Prince Atergatis should be troubled at it, and think he made you sick with over-dancing you. I cannot tell Madam (replied Istrina and laughed) whether you have not some ends of your own in the advice which you give me; and whether you think not more of your own Complexion, and those sprightly eyes, then at my health: but however I will follow it and obey yond: And so these two Beauties parted, and went to take that rest which they took from others, for truly Intaphernes and Atergatis took none: Not that they had any cause to complain against the Persons whom they loved and adored. For the Prince Intaphernes found the Princess of Bythinia the sweetest and most civil in the world; And Atergatis knew very well, for all the reservedness of Istrina that she did not hate him.  
But being both of them men of a deep wit, and infinite spirit, they knew also, that though they should meet with no obstructions from the Princesses whom they loved, yet they could not be happy without much danger and trouble; For they were not ignorant that those Princesses were too wise to displease those upon whom they had dependency, since the Princess of Bythinia had heretofore refused to be Qu: of Pontus rather than disobey Arsamoves: And since Istrina also would not have gone out of Babylon but only because she feared that the Prince Gadates her Father should take it ill if she stayed. So that not doubting but the King of Bythinia and Gadates would oppose their designs, they could not choose but be exceedingy troubled at it. For indeed Intaphernes knew very well, that as long as the War lasted, Arsaemones would keep many Princes in hope of giving his Daughter unto them, to keep them close to his interest; and that as long as Spitridates did not appear, he would not think of marrying her unto any; for since it was not then known where that illustrious Prince was, (who we knew since was carried into Persia, and taken for Cyrus) it was doubtful whether that Princess should be Queen or no, and by consequence Arsamones would not dispose of her.  
On the other side, Atergatis was well informed, that the Prince Gadates, for all the aversion to the King of Assyria, to Istrina, and for all her affection unto you, yet he was still in hopes of seeing her Qu: of Assyria; since she was the only person whom according to the Laws of that State, that Prince could marry: And his hopes was also, that the worst treatment he received from you Madam, at Babylon, the sooner would he be cured of his Love, and reduced unto Reason, by marrying Istrina out of Maxims of State, though not out of affection.  
Thus Intaphernes and Atergatis foreseeing these obstacles unto their designs, did suffer more miseries than they would express. Intaphernes was the more miserable of the two; for since he had not the liberty to speak of his passion unto that Princess who caused it, he was more to be pitied then Atergatis: Though he did endeavour all manner of ways to talk with her, yet it was a very difficult thing to find her alone; for when she was with the Queen, there was always so much company, that it was absolutely impossible to find a privacy: and when she was in her own Chamber, there was another obstacle, which for a while he thought invincible.  
But Madam, that you may the better understand it, be pleased to know, that there was a Lady in Calcedonia, whose name was Berisa, who though she had a hundred several employ ments, yet she was hardly an hour from the Princess of Bythinia: Not that the Princess did love her; for on the contrary, she was very troublesome to her; But this woman did so intrude upon her, to the end that other Ladies of the Town might think her a Favourite, that she was one of the most burdensome creatures in the world.  
For truly Madam, she cared not a straw for troubling her, so she should be but where she would be: She was always the first that came to the Princess of Bythinia; and though she would still be fisking into other places, yet she would return again, and be the last with her: There was no need of talking to her, for she would have her vie in every thing that was in discourse: If the Princess was sick, she would send to see how she did three or four times in a day; she never talked of any thing but what was said, and what was done at the Princess of Bythinia's: she would always walk with her whether she would or no, and would still be thrusting into her Coach before Ladies of better Quality than herself was. Truth is Madam, she was as bold and impudent, as the Princess of Bythinia was civil and sweet: And though she was one of the most troublesome and impertinent women in the world, yet she was with the Princess more than any other all the while she was in Calcedonia: But the odddest passage in the behaviour of Berisa; and if you will, the greatest wonder is, that she would not be only always with the Princess of Bythinia, and with the Queen, but she was also as much in the Town as the Court: She was at all Funerals, at all Marriages, at all Christen, and at all both public and private Diversions. None could be sick but she would go to see them, none could have any occasion of joy, but she would go and be a partaker: but though she had a hundred several employments, yet she dispatched them so hastily, as one would have thought that she never stirred from the Pincess of Bythinia, since whithersoever she went, she always returned to her.  
Moreover it was observed, that Berisa was never ignorant of any thing that was said in her presence; thinking it against her honour that any one should know a thing which she knew not: she would say that she knew a thing, though she was altogether ignorant of it; yet she had many cunning fetches to make one relate a business unto her, and to seem as if she was very well informed, she would tell them that talked to her, that there was yet many particulars which she knew of and they did not, which she would tell them another time: after which, she would usually tell others what was related unto her, as confidently as if she knew it before. Moreover, she had a fancy to hold secrecy, or rather a show of secrecy with all men she saw, provided they were Courtiers: she would always be whispering one after another with all she met, either upon matters of War or business of State, or Cabinet news, or business of Gallantry, or some tittle tattle or other. Indeed, Madam, I do not think ever any was so earnest in every thing without any business: I remember one day amongst the rest, the Prince Intaphernes who did not love her did observe her actions: and it will let you see, Madam, how she used to employ her time. Be pleased then to know, Madam, that there is a Church in Calcedonia, unto which all the Beauties used to pay their Devotions, sooner than any other; except the two Princesses who used to go unto a little Church nearer the Palace: so that Berisa to lose no time went betimes unto that where all the Beauties were, which used to begin betimes, & from thence unto the Church of the two Princesses which used to be later: After this, she went to comfort a man whose wife was dead, & after that she went and dined with a Lady whom yet she did not very well love; as soon as ever she rose from the Table, she went to the Wedding of a woman of her acquaintance, and from thence to see one of her Cousins: then she came and took her turn with the Princess of Bythinia, and after she had related all that she had gleaned from those places, she went out again, to go and see a stately Ship which a friend of hers had built by the King's orders, and was then to be launched to Sea the first time; after that, she made two or three Visits which lasted no longer than the Compliment of going in, and coming out, after she knew who was in the house; after these Visits, Berisa took a turn in the walks by the Sea side, where many Beauties used to walk in that Season: from thence she returned to the Princess of Bythinia, for whom she understood there was a magnificent Banquet prepared that evening in a Garden; so that going with her she was a partaker of the pleasure: yet all this was not enough, for the Princess returning to the Palace very timely, Berisa went to make her excuses unto one who had invited her unto Supper, from thence she went to a Bal at a Lady's house, who had married her Daughter; but before she went home, she went unto the Princess of Bythinias bedside, to bid her good-night: Judge, Madam, whether this day was not well employed, and whether it had not been enough for any two, except Berisa: yet this I must say, because it is true, that this Lady would not have been so displeasing, nor her company so wearisome, if she had not been so earnest in going every where, and in talking upon every thing, and intruding herself into all manner of things: but as she was, I must needs say, that there were very few of any Quality in all the Court, unto whom she was not once a day troublesome, since she was continually with the Princess of Bythinia, who was the greatest Ornament of the Court, and attracted all the Gallants about her. After this, Madam, you may easily imagine, that a person who was troublesome unto so very many, was also very troublesome unto Intaphernes, by taking from him opportunities of talking with her whom he adored; and he became as great a hater of her, as he was a Lover of the Bythinian Princess: and though he was one of the most civil men in the world, especially unto Ladies, yet he had so great a disposition to cross this, that he did continually contradict her, unless when she commended that Princess whom he loved: yet sometimes he found occasion to contest with her about that, affirming that she did not commend her enough, or in such a manner as she deserved. Furthermore, he was so unhappy, as that she was more troublesome to him then any other: for since she observed that he was much in favour with Arsamones, with Arbiana, and with the Princess their Daughter, she intruded upon him more than upon any other man: so that she was more assiduous about the Princess when he was there, then when he was not: However, his fears to pass for an uncivil man, and the example of the Bythinian Princess, moved him to endure against his mind, and contented himself with continually contradicting her. But when he was with Istrina, how full of invectives was he against Berisa? Dear Sister, said he unto her one day in my presence, why do you not persuade the Princess of Bythinia, that it is not for her glory to be so eternally troubled with this impertinent woman, which haunts her every where: who is such an ubiquitary, that she is every where, especially with her? For truly, its fit that persons of her Quality should have such only about her as she desires to have: No, Brother, replied Istrina; but on the contrary, it is the quality of the Princess which deprives her of the liberty to choose who she would have about her; For the Gates of Princes, and the Gates of Temples ought always to be open: and because Kings are Gods, and above all others, they ought to expose themselves unto the sight of all the world; And indeed what do you think Berisa would say, if the Princess should forbid her to come so much into her presence? and what would those say, unto whom Berisa is most troublesome? As for my part (said Intaphernes and interrupted her) I would say she did very well, and that she had done me a very great pleasure: nor can I understand why the Princess, because she is a Princess, should therefore be obliged to endure the perpetual persecutions of such a troublesome person. I know very well, replied Istrina, that it is a Torment; but yet as the state of affairs stands with Arsamones, the Princess must take heed of disobliging such a person as Berisa, who haunting so many places, would make a strange hurly burly, if she should be stinted in her Visits. You may say what you please, said Intaphernes, but I cannot abide that Berisa should always be where I would not have her to be. For my part, said I then unto the Princess Istrina, it would be a very good Office unto Berisa, if she were confined unto her own Quarters: for truly, if she were always where she should be, she were a person very amiable, and would be no more troublesome than others: but she is still where she is never bidden, and often where she ought not to be; questionless she seems worse than she is: Therefore I would have her told, that none but persons of extraordinary Merit, and invited aught to intrude into the company of the Bythinian Princess: for amongst persons of unequal quality, nothing but extraordinary Merits can give such a Privilege. But who told you, replied Istrina, that Berisa does not think herself of much merit: Though she had, replied I, yet she ought to have stayed until the Princess of Bythinia allowed her so much familiarity as she takes, and admit her merits were high enough; it is not fitting to blaze it: But for all this Berisa is to be excused; for since sometimes the most sad effects of the most violent passions are excused, and since men do ordinarily make use of Love, Ambition, and Jealousy, to justify their ill actions, certainly some indulgency ought to be used towards Berisa, who assuredly hath a passion in her heart, which is as strong as any of those I named, and which many others are troubled with, as well as she, though they do not make it appear. Oh Orcames (said Istrina) do not insult so upon the poor Berisa, or accuse her of a Crime which she never thought of: For my part, replied Intaphernes, I think she may be supposed to have a thousand in lieu of one; therefore Orcames I pray tell us what is the passion which Berisa is troubled with: It is, Sir, replied I, an earnest desire to pass for a Courtier: and I believe this kind of envy to be a passion, and a most violent one. For my part, I know women in the Town more sprightly and more amiable than Berisa who are haunted with this passion, which doth so tyrannize over them, as it makes as great an alteration in their hearts as Love, Jealousy, or Ambition could; for they cannot abide any thing which is not of the Court: and indeed men whose Professions are not Soldiers, are insufferable unto them, women of their quality make them ashamed, they know not what to talk off, and their passions are so strong, as that they think they cannot live, but where they ought not to be, unless, as I said before, when they are called and invited thither: for in that case, I confess the Court is a very sweet and pleasing life, and of what quality soever one be they may keep their Ranks with decency and honour. However, this will serve to excuse the poor Berisa, since certainly the passion of the Court is more violent than you imagine: However it be, said Intaphernes unto Istrina, you would do me the greatest favour in the world, if you could banish her from the Princess of Bythinia; for I cannot endure to see a person perpetually with her who never does any thing what she ought to do; who is never where she ought to be, who is still talking what she should not, and who is more troublesome to me then any other, though she is a continual trouble unto all the Court: And if you cannot banish her, yet I beseech you do me the favour, to talk with her always when I am where you and she is: for I profess I cannot endure she should talk to me, or to the Princess whom I adore. Istrina hearing Intaphernes speak thus, did easily apprehend the reason why he hated Berisa: so that not being able to forbear laughing, she told him by way of Raillary, that Envy was too poor a Passion to be entertained in his heart, therefore I pray let the poor Berisa quietly enjoy a happiness which she hath taken so much pains to obtain: As Intaphernes was ready to answer, the Princess of Bythinia entered, and Berisa only followed her, the rest of her women waiting in the outer Chamber. Since the Princess Istrina was then in a laughing humour, the sight of Berisa did so augment it, that for all the reverence which she desired to pay unto the Prince of Bythinia, she could not hold: so that being obliged to a Compliment, I ask your Pardon, Madam, said she unto her, for being in such a merry vain, as that I cannot express my joys of seeing you more seriously: I will very willingly pardon you, replied the Princess, upon condition you will tell me the cause of your joys and mirth; for since you do not use to laugh unseasonably at nothing, I am much mistaken, if it be not worth the knowing: I assure you, Madam (replied Istrina and laughed still) I should wish you knew it, if I did not fear that the Prince my Brother would oppose it: To prevent him (said Berisa, who would have her vie in every thing) I will promise you to talk with him as long as you please; you shall not need to take so much pains (replied he) for since I cannot oppose the Princess in any thing, I am willing she should know what she desires. However (replied Istrina craftily) you must needs entertain Berisa whilst I obey the Princess: for you know I must not speak aloud all that she desires to know; Intaphernes would have said something to put it off, but the Princess of Bythinia imposed silence upon him; and since she commanded him to talk with Berisa, he must needs obey. Thus poor Berisa, not knowing that she herself was the cause of that secret which Istrina told the Princess of Bithynia, began to talk with Intaphernes, and employed all her wits and cunning to make him tell her what the matter was, which you may be sure, he did not impart: But whilst he was weary of Berisa, the Princess of Bithynia was very pleasant with Istrina; for she hath since told that she made such a pleasant relation of the Conference which that Prince and I had with her, as she never in her life passed away an hour more merrily: Istrina related it in such a manner as let the Princess understand the principal cause of Intaphernes his hatred of Berisa, thinking it to be advantageous to the Prince her Brother, that she should know his affection to her, caused his aversion unto that woman, yet it proved not so advantageous as she imagined; for the Princess of Bythinia desiring to avoid all occasions of being alone with Intaphernes, resolved to cherish Berisa more than she used, though she did not acquaint Istrina with it at that time. Yet to begin her torments upon him by Berisa, she talked so long with Istrina, that at last she pitied him, and did admit him into their discourse. Well, Madam, said he unto her, do you find that I had reason to speak as I did? I find, said she, that you had reason, and that you were in the wrong also: I assure you, Madam (said Berisa to flatter Intaphernes) I can hardly think that the Prince Intaphernes hath not reason for every thing he saith or doth; and if I do guests right, he is not in so much wrong as you imagine. Alas Berisa (said the Princess and laughed) if you did guests right you would condemn him more than I do; for I say he was right in some things, but doubtless you would say he were wrong in all: yet, replied she, his Crime doth not much trouble you, since you laugh so heartily. Do not think, said Istrina then, that though the Princess condemns my Brother, he is very Criminal, since she condemns him unjustly though she have no interest in the business. Berisa was exceedingly puzzled to guess at the business: She called to memory all that passed of late in Court, but since she did not look into herself for the cause of Istrinas' mirth, and for the secret which she had imparted unto the Princess of Bythinia, she was not like to find it: so that the more she mused, the more merry she made them. In the mean time, Intaphernes wondered to observe, that the Princess of Bythinia was much more civil towards Berisa, than she used to be; for she did not only suffer her, but she talked after with her, especially when Intaphernes was present: You may well imagine Madam, that one who was wont to go unbidden unto a hundred several places, was very assiduous and officious in a place where she thought herself welcome and desired; and she stuck so close to this Princess, that they were almost inseparable, yet for all that, she had a hundred several businesses in hand, and would go unto a hundred several places; but she managed her time so well, that she always went at such hours as the Princess of Bythinia was not to be seen, so as it seemed as if she were never from her.  
Intaphernes perceiving this new favour, was strangely surprised, for he knew the Princess did not love Berisa: so that making his Complaints unto Istrina, and conjuring her to tell him why Berisa was more in favour then ordinary, he found her as ignorant and as much troubled at it, as himself.  
Atergatis also, as witty as he was, he could not dive into the mystery of the business, so that this Prince was in a most pitiful perplexity; yet had he known the thoughts of the Bythinian Princess heart, he had not been so unquiet, for she confessed afterwards unto the Princess Istrina, that the chief reason why she made use of Berisa was only to prevent Intaphernes from all opportunities of expressing his passion unto her: also since she esteemed him in such a particular manner, and perceiving a great inclination in her heart towards him, she would not put herself to the necessity of speaking either too harshly or too favourably: but however, since he could not see into the soul of that Princess, he was extremely unsatisfied. Istrina, who knew all the reasons which might induce the Prince her Brother not to engage himself too far in a business which had so much difficulty in it, did use her best arguments to persuade him not yet to declare himself, but to stay until the War was ended, before he told her of his Love.  
But though he seemed to adhere unto this advice, yet he liked his own best, and resolved to discover his passion unto the Princess of Bythinia as soon as he found a fit opportunity: But Madam, the difficulty was, to find this opportunity, by reason of Berisa's assiduity about her. After he had many days waited for it, and all in vain; he bethought himself at last of a way to advance his design; which was, to put Berisa upon such a piece of business as would keep her a whole day from going to the Princess of Bythinia: so that doing me the honour to trust me with his secret, I helped him to deceive Berisa.  
I invited several of my Friends unto a Feast, upon condition they would all engage Berisa to be there; My friends though they did not love her, yet did not deny me, because the noise of Berisa's new favour with the Princess was spread over all the world, and so I engaged her to dine with me, and many other Ladies at a very fair house situated upon the Sea side some thirty furlongs from Calcedonia; yet she would not promise me but upon Condition I would let her return to the Town as soon as Dinner was done: Since I had a secret design in the business, I promised she should, and assured her that a Coach should be ready to bring her back when she pleased: I assured her also, to the end she should not fail, that there should not be one man or woman of the Town in the company, but named unto her those that were to be there, at whom she was well pleased, because they were all Courtiers; but for all that, the principal reason which moved her to promise me her presence, was, because she observed that the Princes Intaphernes and Atergatis did me the honour to love me.  
This Feast being thus concluded upon, it was kept some two days after; yet Berisa went not out of Calcedonia until she had taken her turn with the Queen & Princess of Bythinia, unto whom she promised to return as soon as ever dinner was done: She made this promise in my presence, for I accompanied her to the Princess, and would not leave her, because I would make sure of her.  
In the mean time, I know very well that she could not return so soon as she intended: And Madam, be pleased to know, that after all my invited Guests were assembled together, we all went unto a place designed for this trick, which indeed was a pleasant place; for besides the Gardens which are very noble and fine, there was at the end of a long walk, by the Seaside, the point of a Rock which did shoot itself into the Sea, upon which was built a very magnificent house, out of which might be seen from three sides of it, the waves of the Sea dashing against the foot of that Rock upon which it was built, and which sometimes according to the agitation of the winds would bond as high as the Windows, yet could not come through, but left a white scum like flakes of snow. The prospect of that place was full of delight, and thither it was I carried Berisa, and all the Company which assembled purposely to delude her. Yet for the better effecting of my project, I caused that dinner to be very late, and as if chance had shamed me with ill servants, services came on so slowly, that one might have dined sufficiently between every dish: and I saw Berisa thought the time to be very long, and did sit upon thorns to return unto the Princess of Bythinia: But that this longness might seem less tedious, I provided the best things that could be got: As soon as the last Course was upon the Table, Berisa began to talk of going, and desired me to command the Coach to be ready; so that not contradicting her, I presently commanded one to be made ready, but it was to such men as I had in private commanded not to obey me: When dinner was done, she asked and I asked whether the Coach was ready, and I was as earnest as she, purposely to delude her: and when answer was made that it was not ready, I seemed to be in such a choleric fume, as she herself began to appease me.  
In the mean time, since I had provided an open Bark, under pretence of diverting the company upon the Sea: I propounded unto them to accept of this diversion, and to set Berisa halfway to Calcedonia, and so (said I and turned towards her) you will lose no time; for whilst they are coming with the Coach, we are still going unto the place where you desire to be, and though the Coach were ready, yet this is as ready a way: Since I winked upon one of my friends to second this proposition, she pressed it on so handsomely, that at last Berisa was persuaded to it, thinking that she should be as soon at Calcedonia this way, as the other. Then did we all Embark, and to continue myproject, I commanded my men, that as soon as the Coach which was to carry Berisa was ready, it should go into such a place, where I said we should land Berisa. Since it was then neither too hot, nor too cold, it was pleasant taking the Air at midday, and thereupon I grounded my Plot.  
As soon as we were all in the Bark, Berisa began to complain that it went not fast enough, so that adding Oar to Sail we went faster: But having appointed him who was to steer, in lieu of going by the side, to put out to full Sea; he did as I appointed, and Berisa took no notice of it, because I always kept her busy in talk.  
But that my plot might better hit, before we came into the Bark, I told all the Ladies (who did not love the humour of Berisa) that it would be a good Jest, if we could make her fail at this meeting which she had appointed at Calcedonia. So that all of them approving of my design, and since fallacies of this nature are no great Crimes, they assisted me exceeding well to keep Berisa from perceiving that we went quite contrary to the place she intended, for two or three of them would stand before her that she should not see which way we steered: Others held her in talk, and put a hundred Questions unto her one after another; so that flattering her, and treating her as the Princess of Bythinia's greatest favourite, we pleased her so very well, that she did not think the time tedious, nor perceived that we were far from the place where she expected her Coach, and thus was she deluded: But at last seeing we could not hide the truth from her any longer, I cried out first to testify my wonder that we were so far in the open Sea. As for Berisa, she was so surprised, that if I had not first found fault, I believe she would have quarrelled with me: but I was in such a chafe, and kept such a coil at it, that she could not imagine I intended to deceive her. The Pilot said he understood me wrong, and thought I had commanded him to come in the Evening to the place where the Coach was to meet.  
In the mean time, every one of us had such an itch of laughter upon us, that we could not hold; and we broke out in such a manner, as Berisa began to suspect the truth, and grew angry in good earnest: But when I perceived that her anger was very high, I came unto her: If the Lovely Berisa (said I unto her, by such a way of flattery as I knew she loved) were not a person who knows all the world, and knows also when it is fit to be angry, and when not, I should fear that she had now some occasion of Choler; but being so much a Courtier as she is, though perhaps some of the Ladies to enjoy her company the longer, had corrupted the Pilot to steer a wrong course, yet I know she understands Raillary too well to be offended at it, and will rather thank her for so handsomely deceiving her. For my particular (added I) I should have much ado not to take her part against you, since certainly I am infinitely joyed to see you here, so as I cannot chide her, for being a cause of my hapness: For truly (said I unto her in a low voice) you must know amiable Berisa, that this entertainment was intended only for you, and it would be a cruel piece of injustice not to allow a whole day unto him who cares not for the rest of the company if you were gone.  
Berisa hearing me speak thus, was a little qualified, saying, that she would wilingly pardon those that deceived her, upon condition they will make as much haste to Land as they did from it. But the Pilot hearing her say so, and knowing well that it was not my mind, told her, that it was a thing impossible to go in a direct line unto the shore, because there was many hidden Rocks which would endanger them.  
The Pilot no sooner had said so, but all the company bade him have a care of that: and Berisa herself, as earnest as she was, did not contradict it, but desired him to carry her as soon as he could with safety to the shore. As soon as she made that request, we did all so importune her to spend that day amongst us, that she could not deny us: and indeed we carried her back to the place where we dined, still persuading her, that she was much obliged unto us for the violence which we did her.  
After we were returned thither, we sent for the Coach which waited half way to Calcedonia, and I appointed those which went, not to make overmuch hast, but to be as slow in coming as could be, that it was almost night when it came, and then she must needs have so much patience as to stay a banquet before we parted: Thus Madam, to favour the Prince Intaphernes, I carried the matter so, as it was night before Berisa entered into Calcedonia. In the mean time that Prince the better to make use of her absence, obliged Atergatis to go very timely unto Istrina, and keep her from going unto the Princess of Bythinia: not that this Princess was ignorant of his passion, or disapproved of it: but since he knew how she did not think it fit for him as yet to discover himself unto that Princess, he desired to keep secret from her his design: And indeed Madam, he was so diligent, that he came to the Princess of Bythinia when she was newly risen from the table: and since that is the time when least company comes to her, and when Courtiers use not to make any visits, he had conveniency enough of talking with her: When he came into her Chamber she wondered to see him; I thought (said she unto him, and smiled) that none but Berisa would have visited me at such a time as this; but for aught I see, she hath left her Commission with you to supply her room; or at least I know you are now as hasty as she useth to be: yet I am persuaded you will not be long without her company, for she promised me to be here as soon as ever as she had dined.  
Berisa is so very good company (replied Intaphernes, and smiled as well as the Princess) as I can hardly think the Ladies with whom she is, will let her return so soon: But Madam, since I am persuaded that Berisa never useth to speak unto you concerning me when she is alone with you; I beseech you let me not speak of her, now I have the happiness to be here, when she is absent. I assure you Sir (replied the Princess who had a mind to turn the discourse) that you very much wrong the poor Berisa, by being so averse towards her, as I have observed you are; for truly, though she be a little too intrusive; yet you need not hate her so much. Oh Madam (said Intaphernes) did you but know the harm she does me, you would confess I have no reason to love her. The harm she hath done you, replied she, is only because you fancy that she cannot divert you; and because she meddles with every thing you would have her meddle with nothing; but yet I do not love such nice spirits, and delicate wits, for it is very hard for them not to be very often unjust: Since Madam, it is your pleasure I should not complain against Berisa, replied Intaphernes, I will reverence and obey all your desires: And to concur with your opinion, and give you an occasion of calling me the most unjust man in the world, I must confess, my obligations unto Berisa, for preventing me from being exposed a thousand times unto your anger. For Madam, since I am resolved to confess all my sins unto you, I must let you know, that had it not been for the assiduity of busy Berisa, I had ere this told you above a hundred times that I am the man who admires you with more reverence than any man in the World, and loves you with a more violent and respective passion.  
How a hundred times? (replied the Princess, and blushed) believe me that should never have been; for after you had told me it the first time, you should never have told it a second. However, since you are more obliged unto Berisa than I imagined, though she be not present, you speak unto me as if she were; for if you do not, perhaps you shall be driven to the necessity of grieving she is not here, though I know her presence never pleaseth you.  
When I first resolved to tell you Madam, that I adored you, replied Intaphernes, I did not believe you would give a favourable audience; but I must needs confess, I did not despair of obtaining a pardon for a Crime which I could not repent of: and unless you had been absolutely the fairest person that ever lived, I should never have committed it, and told you that I was your adorer: but I tell it Madam without any other pretence, but only to obtain so much favour from you as not to banish me for telling it.  
You talk in such a serious tone (replied the Princess of Bythinia) as I cannot tell how to answer you, as if you had spoken only out of a piece of gallantry; and my opinion is, that those who do not answer precisely unto such things, doubtless desire to be told it often: and therefore to spare myself much anger, and to preserve you in my esteem, I shall tell you very ingenuously, that I have a very high conceit and esteem of you, and that you are the man, whose esteem I do most desire; but I must tell you withal, that to keep us both in this esteem of each other, you must not tell me any more of such things as you speak of; and that if you do, I will never hearken unto it.  
If you observe this, you will most exceedingly oblige me; and both for your sake and my own, I will forget what now you have told me. Oh Madam, replied Intaphernes, this is not the way to stop my mouth; for if you would have me mention what I have told you, no more, you must honour me with a promise never to forget it: Protesting unto you, that if you will favour me so far as to assure me that you will never forget it, I will then never speak of it again. You know very well replied the Princess, that this which you demand is a thing which I neither aught, nor can consent unto: But I must tell you, that if you will not do as I would have you, doubtless I shall not do as you would have me; for I will so absolutely take all opportunities of speaking to me from you, as you shall never meet with any occasion of telling me any thing that may either please, or anger me.  
As Intaphernes was ready to reply, much company came in and prevented him, and they continued there all that day, so as he could not renew it. But the best passage was, the Princess of Bythinia went that night to the Princess Istrina, and Berisa at her return to Calcedonia, would have me carry her thither: so that Intaphernes being there also with many others, it was the best sport in the world to see with what aggravations Berisa related the trick which I had put upon her: Ah Madam, said she as soon as ever she saw her, if you do not oblige the Prince Intaphernes to revenge my Quarrel upon Orcames, I shall complain against you as much as against him, for he is the cause of my not returning so soon as I designed, and why I have spent a whole long day without the honour of being with you. I assure you (replied the Princess of Bythinia, knowing that Intaphernes would understand her meaning) I was never more sorry for your absence then this day, and I never more wanted your company: Me thinks Madam, replied Intaphernes, that for all the merits of Berisa, you are injurious unto all the company that were with you in speaking, as if you were weary of them: However it be (said the Princess) I wish Berisa had been here, especially after dinner: I assure you Madam (replied Berisa to justify herself) it what not long of me, for I did as much as possible I could to be here again betimes.  
After this, Berisa began to relate all the passage how she was deceived; not omitting the least Circumstance: The Princess of Bythinia understood that this fallacy had no such obliging cause as Berisa believed; for she knew that I was no such zealous lover of her, as to take all that pains to hinder her return from Calcedonia; so that descanting upon the adventure, she imagined that he who had thus deluded Berisa, was well acquainted with the secrets of Intaphernes, & doubted not but that Prince had put him upon this device: At first she was a little angry at it, but presently after anger vanished; and she could not choose but think the passage pleasant, when she considered the busy earnestness of Berisa, and her impossibility to do as she would: After which, finding good cause to believe that the Love of Intaphernes was very great, since he was driven unto this shift to express his passion, she thought upon it without any anger, yet telling Berisa, that there can be no fallacy innocent; however, Madam, replied Intaphernes, I hope you will confess that there are some fallacies which are no great Crimes in those who act them. I must confess, replied she, that perhaps there may be some pleasure to be taken in them; but I must needs confess withal, that there are no deceivers which are not culpable to some or other. There are some Crimes, replied Istrina, which are so easy to be pardoned, as I cannot tell whether the actors deserve the name of Culpable: and whether a term ought not to be invented which might express such men, neither innocent nor culpable.  
For my part, replied the Princess of Bythinia, I know no such persons as you mention, nor any Medium between Innocency and a Crime; nor will I take so much pains as to help out the Language with a word which I shall never stand in any need of; For I must declare, that all those which I ever have seen, do see, or ever shall see, do pass in my opinion, either for Innocent or Culpable against me: nor can I imagine any medium between these two.  
Then Madam, according to your expression (said Intaphernes, and looked attentively upon her) it seems I am at this present either innocent or culpable in your opinion. You need not doubt it (replied she hastily) since questionless you cannot doubt it unless you do me an injury. However Madam (replied Intaphernes) I would gladly know whether you use to take all necessary care to be well informed of the innocency or the Crimes of those you condemn or justify? for truly Madam a very small circumstance may alter the case.  
The truth is (said Berisa, and interrupted him) if Orcames did deceive me by way of mockery, certainly he deserveth my hate: but since I am persuaded, that he had a reason more advantageous to me for what he did, I shall be more willing to pardon his preventing my return so timely as I desired. I must needs confess Madam, that I could not choose but laugh when I heard Berisa say so, and could not choose but look upon Intaphernes as I laughed; so as the Princess of Bythinia observing it, she was confirmed in her former opinion, and doubted not but that she herself was a cause of the trick which was put upon Berisa.  
In the mean time since she was not well satisfied, what she should think of Intaphernes, she retired; but the difficulty was to be rid of Berisa; for since the Princess had told her, that she wanted her company, she could not shake her of; but was forced to tell her that she would sleep, to make her go out of her Chamber. Yet she sleeped not so soon, for she passed away a great part of the night in contriving how Intaphernes should continue his affection to her without speaking unto her of it, and without forcing her to change her behaviour towards him.  
But, Madam, without particularising the beginning and progress of Intaphernes his affection, give me leave to tell you, that his Services being seconded by the Salutations of Istrina, and supported by his own merits, the Princess of Bythinia was moved to let him love her: yet upon condition that he should always submit his love unto her Fortutne; and that if it so happened, that Arsamones should dispose of her against her will, yet he should not accuse her of any injustice or infidelity, but endure the misfortune, with all the Patience he was capable of: But, Madam, said he one day unto her, may I not accuse you of Injustice, in desiring me to promise Imposibilities? Can you think a Lover who promiseth to renounce the enjoyment of his adored Mistress, is able to keep his word? I do verily believe he may, said she unto him, and it much concerns you that I do believe it: and happen what can, I make no question but you will exactly keep yours.  
This, Madam, was the condition of these four Illustrious Persons, who are the Subjects of my History: who as you may very well perceive were not very happy: For Intaphernes and Atergatis could never make the two Princesses whom they loved, to promise them any thing, against that obedience which they owed unto those who had the disposing of them: but yet they enjoyed many happy hours when they had opportunities of talking freely with their adored Princesses. 'tis true, these opportunities were not so oft as they desired; and Berisa did make them miss so many occasions of that happiness, as they hated her more than ever: The Princess of Bythinia also, for all her compliance with her, was in the end troubled with her; but yet she would not banish her: And I was made choice of to contrive ways of keeping her from going unto her so often. So that designing to serve two Princesses, in ridding them of a busy body who was extremely troublesome to them; I carried the matter so, that upon a day, when Berisa was incensed against those two Princesses, for leaving her behind when they went to take the Air, as I engaged her to make her complaints unto me, and to trust me with her very heart; she began to complain against them so sharply, as at first I thought they had done her the greatest wrong that could be offered to a person of her Quality. For she repeated all her obliging Services to the Princess of Bythinia, aggravating her assiduity about her, to be as much obliging as a thousand Services. But after all her talk and complaints, I found the injury to be only as I told you: 'tis true, this walk being appointed in her presence, and considering how she had been formerly treated, it was an affront not to take her along with them: yet not to let slip such a favourable occasion; after she had disgorged her stomach, and complained till she was weary with complaints, I began to murmur more than she against all Grandeur, and against the Court in general, purposely that I might the better persuade her: Protesting that if ever I could get into my Country, I would for ever confine myself to that Province rather than I would endure the scorns and affronts of the Court. Afterwards making a thousand Protestations of friendship and esteem of her; I advised her to keep home, or at least to retire from such a tumultuous life as the life of a Courtier is: For truly, my dear Berisa (said I unto her) when one is not so happy as to be of a Quality fit for a Court, one ought not to be so forward: Alas Orcames (said she) I know but too well the truth of your words, but yet since I have seen so many Gallants, I cannot for bear going unto them: and I had rather be affronted with Courtiers, then be much made of by Townsmen, for (added she to bring me unto her mind) I beseech you, do but observe the difference betwixt them: would not any one say that sees them together, they were of several Countries far distant? and though they speak the same Language, and as they think, the very same things, yet they express them in such a different manner, as what is gallantry in a Courtier is absurd in a Townsman: But Berisa, said I unto her, this rule is not general; for I do know some men of the Town, that are very complete men, however I am sure, replied she, that if there be any exceptions, those who do deserve to be excepted, have gotten their merits in the world amongst Company: otherwise I cannot see how they should deserve it; Though I should grant it, replied I, yet that is not sufficient to persuade me that one who is not a Courtier by birth ought to apply themselves unto it, unless Fortune do call them unto it by some extraordinary way: Indeed, were it not a fondness to hope that persons of most high Quality should ever care for such Companions? one must owe them all things, and they be obliged by nothing: They love you only because they love themselves; and measuring their affections to you by the diversions which you afford them; as soon as your diversions fail, their loves will cease: Do you not by experience find, that how Princesses, who are the best of any in the world, do slight you? and since they have company enough, they will not carry you with them to take the Air? Good Berisa, let not the Court deceive you, but undeceive yourself, and shake it off, before it shake you off: It is but a habit, and may easily be left. Do you think that Provinces far off Courts have not wits and men of spirit in them? and can you think those wi●s and spirits are idle and weary? No no Berisa, it is not to be imagined; but be confident they think themselves as happy as you or any Courtier in the world: The laws of amity and friendship is regularly observed amongst persons of their quality; there is as much complacency amongst them as amongst others & there being no Lords nor no slaves amongst them, they live much sweeter lives than you imagine. I pray then judge Berisa, what should you do at Court? Oh Orcames said she, I see you never use to make any visits into the Country, since you know no better how tedious and wearisome they are. For know Orcames, that all of them either talk not at all, or talk too much, or else talk scurvily: They have not only a pronunciation different from the Court, but their matter and manner of speaking doth also differ: Their gallantry is so gross, that it is rather an impertinent piece of a talk which is insufferable; To hear them talk of love is enough to procure hatred; to hear them talk of Martial matters, would move one's pity of them: If they talk of news, they know so little of the world, and tell such unlikely stories, that they are not worth the hearing; yet you advise me Orcames not to stir out of my own Quarters: I must confess, said I unto her, that I do advise you to it, because the vexations which follow the delights of the Court, are greater than the other, though it were so that no accomplished persons were there to be seen: For the truth is, as I have already told you, persons of high Quality care not a straw for their Inferiors: Their friendship a●mes only at themselves; they will give you a thousand welcomes to day, and hardly look upon you to morrow: they will promise more than ever they intent to perform; and their delicacy is such, that if you do not flatter them sufficiently, you do them wrong.  
Believe me Berisa, though there were no other consideration than this, to drive one out of all Court-fancies, that one must spend all their, days with people that are above one, unto whom they must hold a continual complacence, and blind obedience, I think it were enough to move one unto my advice: Besides, matter of honour, which cannot endure to be slighted is considerable; for indeed Berisa, you know as well as myself that if a Town or Countrywoman chance to love any Courtier, she exposeth herself to more talk than any other, since certainly it is a piece of injustice which reigns in the spirits of all men of that quality, & in Courts, to think that a Country Lady is more beholding to them for their services and visits then a Court Lady is.  
Moreover, that's not the place where Country Ladies use to seek for Husbands, either for themselves, their Daughters, their Sisters, or their Friends; and the truth is, there is nothing more odious then for a Country or Town Lady to be too much at Court.  
Therefore Berisa, if you will be ruled by me, you shall erect a Court in your own Chamber and attract all the gallants of Calcedonia which are reasonable, thither: the number of whom is not so small as you imagine. I do not advise you, said I, to be troubled with such men whom the name of Court affrights, and who have as great an aversion to Court as Court hath to them; but like some Creatures who live sometimes on Land, sometimes on water, make choice of such friends as are a Miscellany, part Court, part Country, and pleasing in all. No no, Orcames, replied she, you can never persuade me to it; for though I know, that what you say is partly true, yet I assure you I cannot change my opinion: Indeed (said she, and smiled) I am so far from mewing myself in my own Family, that I profess, I care not if I never came at it, so I could but hear all in it were in health. Since you are of that mind said I, I will move you but unto one one thing more: so it be not to quit the Court, replied Berisa, I will willingly follow your Council.  
Then (said I unto her) to oblige the Princess of Bythinia not to neglect you again, try if you can absent yourself only for three or four days, and thereby force her to send for you: But suppose she should not send for me, replied she, I should then be pitifully puzzled how to return again to her; And therefore Orcames, I had rather follow my own inclination than your advice. Then follow it, said I, since I cannot cure you of this fond Court-humour; but if they should chance to slight another time, when they are going unto any diversions, blame not me for it.  
After this, Madam, I left Berisa, and was very sorry that I had no better acquitted myself of my Commission to persuade her from haunting the Princess of Bythinia; For all I could say against the Court, did make such small impression upon her spirits, as she went unto the Princess that very same night, who received her civility enough: For, besides her natural sweetness, there was another reason which obliged the Princess to tolerate her; which was, because the Father of Berisa, who was a very popular man in Calcedonia, had done Arsamones very considerable service: Thus not knowing how to be rid of this troublesome Creature, I was again made choice of by Intaphernes and Atergatis, to counterfeit Love unto her: And indeed Madam, though I did not love to dissemble my thoughts, but ever affected sincerity, yet I begun to make experiments upon Berisa, so that holding her continually in talk, I gave Intaphernes and Atergatis opportunities to talk often with the Princess of Bythinia, and the Princess Istrina.  
Thus Madam, was the Winter spent: But the Spring bringing war with it, it was resolved we must depart: I believe Madam I shall tell you no lie. If I tell you, that the adieu betwixt the Prince Intaphernes and the Princess of Bythinia, and between Atergatis and Istrina, was much sadder than mine, and Berisa's; Yet the Princess of Bythinia had such a commanding power over herself, that her sorrows for the departure of Intaphernes did not appear; But in exchange she showed him so many Civilities, and expressed herself in such obliging language, that he could not possibly complain against her not grieving enough. And to tell you truly, he needed not to look any further than to the eyes of that Princess to see her heart, though much sorrow did not appear in her face.  
As for Atergatis, he was a little more happy than Intaphernes; for though I cannot perfectly say that Atergatis had any share in those tears which she shed for her Brother: yet I can assure that her manner of bidding him adieu was enough to persuade him that though he had no share in her tears, yet her sighs at parting were very deep, that he should go and expose himself to so many dangers.  
But at the last Madam, we departed, and left Berisa with these two Princesses, unto whom she was more comfort during the absence of Intaphernes and Atergatis: I shall not need Madam, to particularise unto you all the passages of this War, knowing that you are not ignorant of them, I shall therefore only mark out the principal events. I shall tell you then Madam, that Arsamones was always prosperous, though he had to deal with one of the most valiant Princes in the world.  
But to tell you truly, it is no wonder if he made use of all Advantages, for Arsamones had all the necessary qualities to effect a great design: For he had not only a great wit, deep capacity, and grave experience: He had not only high courage, and lofty ambition, but he had also a kind of rash prudence (if I may phrase it so) which made him able to attempt the most difficult erterprises, and which helped him to execute them with as much success as boldness.  
Moreover, the politic Arsamones did not confine himself to the ordinary limits of Justice; for I have heard him say, that all unjust means might be used to compass a just design: And therefore striving to get upon the Throne of his Ancestors, I can assure you he employed all to bring it to pass.  
Furthermore it cannot be imagined that he would omit any occasion to advance it: And so he carried the matter, that the King of Pontus, after several Combats, wherein Arsamones had always the advantage, was constrained to retreat to Heraclea, which is the Metropolis of his Dominions, and the only Town that was left him in all his two Kingdoms.  
During all these Victories, Intaphernes and Atergatis, whose reputations were very high, did often write unto the Princesses whom they adored, for they had obtained permission so to do, upon condition that their Letters should contain only matter of News and Civility without any gallantry. You may well imagine Madam, that this restraint went against their minds; and that it was difficult to love so much, and not dare to speak of it. Yet this command was not disadvantageous to them; for both of them being admirable at their Pens, and since their Letters included nothing which was to be concealed: Those unto whom the Princesses showed them, did so highly applaud them, as it may well be said, that they spoke in behalf of their Loves in not speaking of them.  
However, since their passions were not satisfied, they invented a way to make their minds known without any disobedience unto the commands which they received: For since Istrina had not prescribed unto the Prince her Brother what he should write, and had only forbidden Atergatis to mention any matters of Love: and since the Princess of Bythinia did not think of charging Intaphernes not to mention his passion in his Letters unto the Princess his Sister; these two Lovers resolved that Intaphernes to whom Istrina had prescribed any limits, should write unto her all his thoughts of the Bythinian Princess, and all those which Atergatis had of her: so that by this invention, these two Princesses might show the Letters from their Lovers: and the Princess Istrina durst not show hers from her Brother. She being a Lady of a most admirable wit, after she had received the first Letter, and showed it unto the Princess of Bythinia, she answered it the most wittily in the world.  
Alas Orcames (said Mandana, and interrupted him) I cannot endure to hear a Letter so much commended which cannot be produced: Therefore I entreat to try if you can remember the sense at least, though not the words of these two Letters: For your satisfaction Madam, replied Orcames, I can do more than that; for I think I have a Copy of them about me which I got from the Prince Intaphernes, who having lost the Original in coming hither, he complained of it so exceedingly, that to comfort him, I resolved to confess my crime in stealing that Copy, and let him have a Copy out of mine: And therefore Madam I am able to satisfy your desires; Then he looked in his Pocket, and found these two Letters, the first of which was thus indicted.  
INTAPHERNES UNTO The Princess ISTRINA.  
Sister,  
SInce I know you have enjoined the Prince Atergatis to acquaint you with the News of the Army: And since I am sure he will obey you as exactly as I shall the divine Princess who hath imposed the like commands upon me. You need not think it strange if I do not hint unto you the same things he doth: I leave it therefore to his care to acquaint you with the Enemy's defeat, and victory of Arsamones, and reserve only unto myself to let you know the passages of my heart. Know therefore, dearest Sister, that my adored Princess does so wholly take up my memory, as I know not whether I should be so unjust as to forget you, if I did not need your assistance to keep her from forgetting me. For since she hath not forbidden you to speak to her of my passion, but hath forbidden me to write of it unto her, you may without offence protest unto her, that I can think of nothing else but her; that I do eternally adore her; that her absence is intolerable: and that her rigour in denying me so much satisfaction as to mention my love in my letter to her, doth put my life more in danger, than all the King of Pontus his valour. I beseech you, deny me not this request; for if you do, there shall not a Messenger come, by whom I will not give the Prince Atergatis so much satisfaction as to let you know, that he doth still and ever will most passionately love you: And that there is not a day on which we are not ready to quarrel, sometimes because he maintains that he loves you as well as I love the Princess of Bythinia: and sometimes because I will be always talking of her, when he would be always talking of you. The truth is (dear Sister) he is as melancholy to be at such a distance from her he loves, as I am for being from her whom I adore: speak then unto my Princess in my behalf, if you would not have me speak unto you in his: And persuade her if it be possible to let me write unto her what my heart thinks. But above all, dear Sister, be sure that this Letter do not pass for a piece of disobedience, and that neither Atergatis nor myself be declared Delinquents either to her or you: Adieu, and believe, I beseech you, that Intaphernes loves his dearest Sister, as well as an amorous heart can.  
INTAPHERNES.  
I Do confess, said the Princess Mandana, that I could not possibly believe, that a Brother could speak of Love unto a Sister, as he hath done to her, without some trespass upon handsomeness: But Intaphernes hath done it so delicately, and hath disobeyed a Command so respectively, that I long to see how the Princess Istrina did answer him. Orcames then presenting her Istrinas' Letter, and taking Intaphernes his, she read these words.  
ISTRINA Unto The Prince INTAPHERNES.  
Brother,  
I Need not tell you how the Letter surprised me, for I am persuaded you do not doubt it: Indeed, I found it full of Friendship, and full of Love; but to testify to you, that I would not have you speak unto me, in behalf of the Prince Atergatis, I do assure you that I will speak in your behalf unto the Princess of Bythinia, and indeed, already have done, yet you are not a jott the better, for she thinks you culpable, as I do Atergatis, for disobeying. 'tis true, I never did forbid you to speak unto me concerning your passion, nor his; but my reason was, I had no right to forbid you any thing, and I will keep within my compass, and only make use of my Prayers: But as I have spoken in your behalf unto the Princess of Bythinia, I conjure you to speak in my behalf unto the Prince Atergatis, and tell him, that if I had as much power over him as you say I have, I will as absolutely forbid him to make you the speaker of his passion, as the Princess of Bythinia forbids you by me, to make me the speaker of yours unto her; for the truth is, our Curiosity is only to know what passages are in the Wars, and not what passages are in your hearts; obey therefore, that Princess, and cause Atergatis to obey me: And if it be possible, let neither of you manifest your passions by any vain disobedience. Adieu, and believe, I beseech you, that I will ever preserve as much amity for you, as any heart, not in Love, is capable of; and by that consequence Istrina is more affectionate unto the Prince Intaphernes then Intaphernes is unto  
ISTRINA.  
Really Orcames (said the Princess Mandana, and returned Istrinas' Letter) If people should always write so wittily in matters of Love as these Persons do, it were almost to be wished, that they should write of nothing else; but that you may give me more subjects of commendations, I beseech you proceed in the relation of their Adventures.  
Since you command me, Madam, I must obey, replied Oreames, and tell you, That the Prince Intaphernes having received Istrinas' Letter, he returned her answer, that he should make a doubt whether this was the Princess of Bythinias command, unless she did attest and command it under her own hand: And as for what related to Atergatis, he would not also positively believe what the Brother of his Saint did say, unless she also did confirm it under her hand: To be short Madam, he carried the business so handsomely, that though these two Princesses were extreme wary how they writ any such Letters, yet they both resolved to write two short Tickets of two lines, because they would write no more than might be seen. The Princess of Bythinias Ticket contained these words, if my memory fail not.  
I forbid the Prince Intaphernes to write any thing unto the Princess Istrina but what I permit him to write unto myself; upon pain of her displeasure of whom he speaks unto her, and upon promise of her savour if he impose silence upon himself, and obey her.  
This Madam, is the Ticket of the Bythinian Princess unto the Prince Intaphernes (pursued Orcames) and see, if I be not mistaken, how the Princes Istrinas was indicted.  
If you would have me believe that I have any power over you, cause the Prince Intaphernes to mention you no more in his Letters to me, since I desire to know nothing but what I have permitted yourself to write; and unless you obey this second Command as you did my first, you have permission to mention nothing but the victories of Arsamones.  
You may perceive Madam, that these two notes were not very obliging; and you see also they were very short, and contained only a bare command: Yet though Intaphernes and Atergatis had many excellent and large Letters from them, since these two Tickets were not sealed, subscribed, nor superscribed, they were much joyed at them, and set a dearer rate upon them then upon all the rest of their fine formal Letters: Intaphernes preserved his with abundance of care, he did not keep it in the same place where all the rest of his Letters from the Princess of Bythinia were kept, but in a place more precious: For my part, having nothing so delicate a wit as he, nor could descant so subtly upon passages of Love, I must confess I could not choose but wonder to observe that this ticket which contained only an angry Command, was preferred before all those fine Letters from the same hand, and which were filled with Civilities and Eulogies of his valour, I asked him the reason of such an unreasonable act. Alas Orcames said he unto me, it seems you are a Novice in matters of Love, since you know not the difference between the best Letter that can be in ●●e world, which is to be showed unto every one, and a small ticket which one is obliged to keep secret: but the difference is so great, as there is no comparison between them: Why Sir, said I unto him, can you prefer two or three lines from the Princess of Bythinia, before so many elegant Letters which you have received from her? And are these two or three lines which forbids you to mention any matters of love unto the Princess Istrina more dear unto you then all those sweet and obliging Letters which commands you to write often unto her, and to send her the news of the Army? Yes Orcames, replied he, this little Ticket which contains but few words, which seems carelessly written, whose Characters are hardly legible; and which forbids me to speak of my passion, is a thousand thousand times more dear unto me, and more pleasing, than all her sweet Letters; wherein it appears she culled the words which she employed, whose Characters are so fine and legible, and which commands me to write often unto her: And if you did but know how to love, you would know how to distinguish between a Letter of indifferency, and a Letter of secrecy; so that then I should not need to seek for any reasons to convince you. But Sir, I beseech you, said I unto him, are not all those fine Letters, and this scroll both written by the same hand: Yes Orcames said he, but they are not indicted by the same mind; for when my Princess desires me obligingly to send her the news of the Army, she does me no greater a favour than she might unto any man of quality about Arsamones.  
But when she forbids me to mention my passion, she tacitly implies, that she hath a right to command me, she admits me to be her slave; she testifies that she knows I love her, and indeed gives me some sign of confidence, since she honours me so far as to assure me, that I shall be happy in her favour if I can impose silence upon myself. Truth is Orcames, this rigid scroll which seems to you less obliging then so many fine Letters which applaud me with so much eloquence, hath something in it more satisfactory to the heart of a Lover, than any thing those well penned Letters have which please you so well. The very name of my adored Princess which I cannot pronounce without a trembling of heart, does take something (as I think) from the excellency of those rare Letters; and this Ticket unto which she durst not subscribe, it has something in it which I am not able to express, that renders it the more valuable. For I am fully persuaded, that a Lady who endeavours to conceal both the writer and the party to whom she writes, hath some such sparks of tenderness in her thought as she would not have flash out into a flame, and be known: And Orcames, since Love of its own nature loves mysteries and secrecies, it may well be said, that whatsoever is not mysterious and secret, is not Love: And if you would precisely know the difference which I put between letters of Civility which I received from my Princess, and this little scroll I must tell you, that I put as great a difference as between letters from a friend, and a Letter from a Mistress.  
After this Madam, I left disputing with the Prince Intaphernes, knowing him to be better versed in the doctrine of Love then myself, and seeing I was not able to persuade him. In the mean time, since he knew the Princess of Bythinia's reservedness and severity, he must obey her, and enjoin silence upon himself as well as Atergatis. Yet I am sure, that though the word Love was not used in their Letters, yet they found an art to use others which signified the same thing, yet without any disobedience unto the commands imposed upon them. But their greatest grief was, that the King of Pontus being retreated unto Heraclea, Arsamones resolved to besiege him, and began to draw that way, so that it was easy to foresee that it would be long before they should see their adored Princesses.  
The reason why Arsamones was so hasty to besiege Heraclea notwithstanding the illness of the season, was, because knowing with what zeal the invincible Cyrus under the name of Artamenes did press upon Babylon, he feared that if Babylon were taken before he took Heraclea, Cyrus would then protect the same Prince whom he protected in relieving him at Sinope, so that he was so earnest upon this great design, as Heraclea in a few days was beleaguered. Since it imported Arsamones to know how all passed at Babylon; and since Intaphernes, Atergatis, and Istrina did hate the King of Assyria enough to be inquisitive of all the misfortunes that did befall him, all the victories of Cyrus were very well known in Calcedonia, and at the Camp: And Madam, your heroic resistance of the King of Assyria's violent passion was also known.  
If Intaphernes and Atergatis had not been engaged in their affections in Bythinia, they had then with joy revenged themselves of that unjust Prince, by following Gadates, who had already took part with the Illustrious Cyrus: But since Intaphernes could not forsake Arsamones, as things stood, unless he should forsake the Princess his Daughter: he resolved to stay with him, since considering the Wars, he might do it with honour: And as for Atergatis, since if he changed Armies, he should be at a greater distance from Istrina, he chose rather to satisfy his love then his hatred. As for the Princess Istrina I have heard her say, that as oft as she was told with what noble resolution you treated the King of Assyria, it joyed her to the heart, to see such full revenge upon that Prince, both by your beauty Madam, by your rigour, and by the valour of Artamenes. It is true, her joys were something moderated by her fears, lest the siege of Heraclea should prove fatal either unto Intaphernes or Atergatis, whose courages she knew would expose them unto the greatest dangers upon all occasions. This fear in which the Princess of Bythinia shared with her, was not yet all the sorrow which she had; for the absence of the Prince her Brother, and the unfortunate condition of the Princess Araminta did cause her many an ill hour, for she loved that Princess exceedingly: But for all that, the glory which Intaphernes and Atergatis had got in the Wars, did much cheer up the hearts of these two Princesses, especially the glory which they got at the siege of Heraclea. Since the taking of this Town would be a decision of the War, and settle Arsamones in the Throne, this Prince was not negligent about it: And if I had not many things to tell you which are more essentially necessary to understand this story, certainly my relation of the particulars would make you acknowledge, that except the sieges of Babylon, Sardis, and Cumes, there was never any more famous than the siege of Heraclea, nor a siege where more glorious exploits were performed: Since there wanted only this City to make Arsamones King of two Kingdoms, he assaulted it with extraordinary vigour: And since if this City were lost, the King of Pontus would be without a Kingdom, he did defend it with such Heroic courage, as if he had an Enemy less valiant than Arsamones, he had not been vanquished: And he did such prodigious acts in defence of himself, as if he had vot sullied the glory of them by his violences offered unto you Madam, he might well have been put into the Catalogue of Heroes. But that which hastened his ruin was some reports in the Camp that the illustrious Artamenes had taken Babylon, and that the King of Assyria had gotten you out, and carried you unto Sinope: so that Arsamones falling upon the Town more vigorously than before, and being seconded by the valour of Intaphernes and Atergatis, he brought his works unto better perfection in eight days, than he had done ever since the siege began: The truth is Madam, without further abusing your patience; The Gods having resolved that the King of Pontus should be forced out, purposely to save your life, by preventing your being drowned, they made use of the valour of Intaphernes and Atergatis to vanquish this valiant and unfortunate King, who was forced to fly away in a ship, not knowing then, that the loss of his two Kingdoms should be the cause of his saving your life Madam, when you suffered shipwreck with Prince Mazanes. You may imagine Madam, that the taking of Heraclea made a great noise throughout all Bythinia, as well as at Pontus. But particularly, it rejoiced the two Princesses at Calcedonia, principally because they knew that Intaphernes and Atergatis had a great share in the happy success of that siege: But that which hindered the full tide of their joys was to understand, that the War was not yet finished, because Artanus was in Cabira, where he kept the Princess Araminta in his power: And Arsamones would not make any Conditions with him, unless he would surrender the Town and the Princess Araminta into his power, and therefore his design was to besiege Cabira.  
In the mean time, as soon as Arsamones had settled all in Heraclea, he would have the Queen Arbiana and the two Princes come thither to testify unto his new Subjects, that he would be King of Pontus, whereof Heraclea was the Metropolis, as well as King of Bythinia whereof Calcedonia was chief. You may easily imagine Madam, that this resolution was very welcome unto Intaphernes and Atergatis, as it was vexatious to the poor Berisa, who seing that the Court was to remove from Calcedonia to Heraclea, she was even ready to die for grief, not knowing how it was possible to live without a Court: And indeed we understood that every one went to comfort her, as one that had lost all she loved. She employed all her will to find a pretence for going unto Heraclea, but her Parents would not permit her: so that she saw a necessity of staying in Calcedonia, where she talked of nothing but her weariness of it: and if she made any visits, to satisfy her busy humour, it was only a gadding from house to house to tell how weary she was: And she made herself so much hated in Calcedonia, that there was not a Lady who did not wish her at Heraclea.  
But Madam, as the design of Arsamones in bringing the Queen Arbiana unto this stately Town was pleasing unto Intaphernes and Atergatis, so I must tell you that it was not displeasing unto the Princess of Bythinia, nor to the Princess Istrina. Yet I am obliged to tell you unto the glory of the Princess of Bythinia, that maugre all the victories of Arsamones, she could not choose but sigh as she went into the Palace of Heraclea, not being able to remember the Condition wherein she had seen the Prince Sinnessis, the Princess Araminta, and Spitridates, without much sorrow for the death of the first, and for the captivity of the Princess Araminta, and for the absence of the Prince Spitridates her brother. Also her generosity did carry her further than this; for she would not upon any terms lie in the Princess of Pontus her Chamber: Since I remember very well (said she unto the Queen Arbiana who propounded it unto her) if the Princess Araminta did ever look npon me as the Princess of Bythinia, when there was not any hopes of the King my Fathers ever being upon the Throne: I will also still treat her as the Princess of Pontus, although the King her Brother do not enjoy the Kingdom; You may well conceive Madam, that a Princess who was so generous as to be just unto a distressed virtue, would not be unjust unto a victorious and triumphant virtue, and that she received the Prince Intaphernes with all possible civility.  
Atergatis found as favourable a reception from Istrina: And since these Princesses had not forbidden them to speak, as they had to write, These two Princes took occasion to speak of that they would, and had not written; and to make known unto their Princesses all the torments they had suffered during their absence: But yet they were not long together; for Arsamones being desirous to finish the War by taking Cabira, desired them to come unto the Army; but since the distance was not far from Heraclea, there was such continual correspondency between them, that this second absence was not so rigorous as the first: yet Arsamones could not march so soon as he desired against Artanus, because he fell sick. But Madam, I think it fit to omit the relation of the Prince Spitridates his arrival at Heraclea, and all the passages concerning the defeat of Artanus: Since it is not possible but the Princess Araminta who was so long a Prisoner unto Cyrus, and since the Prince Spitridates was a while in Sardis, you must needs hear tell since you were released, the adventures of a Prince who hath the honour to resemble your illustrious Liberator.  
The truth is, replied Mandana, I understand by Martesia who had it from Feraulas, all that happened unto that illustrious Prince: and consequently I know of his Arrival at Heraclea, the day before the Queen Arbiana and the two Princesses were to go unto the Camp, because Arsamones was sick: Moreover, I know how the Queen of Bythinia took Spitridates at first for Cyrus, as heretofore she took Cyrus for Spitridates: Nor am I ignorant of all that Prince's endeavours to obtain the permission of Arsamones to love Araminta: Neither am I ignorant of what Intaphernes and the Princess of Bythinia did upon the same design: For indeed Orcames, I know how obstinately Arsamones denied them; I know all the defeat of Artanus, the meeting of Spitridates and Araminta upon the bridge of Cabira. The generous resolution of those two Persons, and in what manner Spitridates got Araminta out of that besieged Town, stealing her from the victory of Arsamones, who would have kept her Prisoner, if he had taken her. I know also how Spitridates went with that Princess as far as Armenia, where they parted: and that in parting from the Camp, he wrote unto the King his Father, and unto the Princess his Sister: but I wonder, that in relation of all these passages, I should never hear any mention made of Atergatis.  
The reason why those who related the history of Araminta were silent of the Prince Atergatis, replied Orcames, is, because he had no hand in the defeat of Artanus, not in any passages at Cabira; because the very day on which the Princesses came to the Camp, he fell sick at Heraclea, where he remained until after the departure of Spitridates and Araminta, so that he could not contract any amity with that Prince as Intaphernes did; nor by consequence give those who related unto you the story of Araminta and Spitridates, any subject to speak of him. Now Madam, since you know all passages unto the taking of Cabira, I shall say nothing of them, but shall relate things from thence forward, and tell you that Arsamones was so incensed at the action of Spitridates, that he said he should not succeed him, and that he would have every one look upon the Princess his Daughter, as she that was to be Queen of Pontus and Bythinia: And the truth is Madam, he was so violently earnest in it, that every one did believe it was his intention: But though it was the design of Arsamones, yet it was far from the intentions of the Princess his Daughter, who declared herself so highly and so genevously, that she would never thrive by the misfortunes of the Prince her brother, as Arsamones was no less incensed against her than him; so that Intaphernes was constrained to grieve with that Princess, for offering her two Kingdoms. It is true, that his love had its part in this grief: For this Prince conceived, that as long as Arsamones was in the mind, he could never pretend unto the Princess whom he loved, it being easy to foresee that Arsamones would never give her unto him, though upon no other reason then because he was a professed lover of Spitridates.  
But as Intaphernes had this augmentation of his sorrows, so Atergatis who was recovered of his sickness, was grieved to understand that Gadates who was not ignorant of his affection unto Istrina, had sent orders unto a Lady who was with her, to have a strict eye over all his actions, and to render him an account of them; this Prince having still a fancy, that when Cyrus had ended the War, he might perhaps by a treaty of Peace oblige the King of Assyria to marry Istrina, by obtaining for him a restitution of some part of his Kingdom; for Madam, though this fancy had but an ill foundation, yet he did, and still doth feed himself with some hopes in it: And indeed, because the Queen Nitocris with whom he had been in love, did earnestly desire it as long as she lived, he thought that he was obliged by his respects unto that great Princess, not to let Istrina marry, as long as there was any possibility that the King of Assyria might marry her.  
After this Madam, you may imagine that the lives of the Prince Intaphernes and Atergatis were not very pleasing, since to live without hopes is the most difficult thing upon earth: Yet I am sure, that if they did not hope, yet they were not altogether desperate, yet they were perpetually full of fears: And all the consolation which they had, was to know that they were not out of favour with the Princesses whom they adored.  
As for Intaphernes, he was so happy as that the King did never suspect his Love: so that he could see and talk with his Princess when he pleased. But all great changes in Kingdoms must needs be a while unsettled, so there were many commotions and stirs, which required he should divide his Army into two Bodies, and that Intaphernes and Atergatis should command them. Arsamones residing sometimes at Heraclea, and sometimes at Calcedonia, to give out several orders to places as need required. Thus Madam, did these two Princes and these two Princesses live, whilst the illustrious Cyrus (after he understood you were not dead as once he believed) was carrying on the War in Armenia, thinking that you were there: And thus they continued, until that generous Prince being upon the Frontiers of Lydia, there chanced that thing, which I believe you are not ignorant of, but yet you neither know the cause nor the consequence of it. I must therefore tell you Madam, that when the valiant Anaxaris who is now the Captain of the Guard, came to the Camp of Cyrus. I understood how he had told him that he had saved the life of the Prince Spitridates; and that he was at first deceived by that resemblance which is between those two great Princes.  
But Madam, certainly you do not know who brought Spitridates into that Paphlagoneon wood where Anaxaris found him, nor who kept him there; nor how he went from the place unto which Anaxaris conducted him, after he had so valiantly defended him. Therefore I must tell you, that when Araminta would needs have Spitridates leave her in Armenia, and commanded him to wander from Country to Country until the Gods were pleased to change the state of their Fortunes; yet Spitridates could not find a heart to go out of Armenia, since Araminta was in it though she had charged him not to stay there, because she feared lest the King her Brother should arrest him; and because she would not have a Prince who had kept her from the power of the King his Father, should fall into the power of the King of Pontus, who did not love him. So that Spitridates searching for a place where he might have best intelligence from Artaxates, whilst the Princess Araminta was there; he thought that he could not better seat himself, then in some house upon the River Araxes, which runs to Artaxates: For as great Rivers causeth great commerce between great Towns, so he thought this place to suit best with his design; and indeed the Village where he stayed was so great a Pass, as it was easy to receive information of some things which he desired to know.  
But Madam, as all humane Prudence is extremely limited; so it chanced that the same way he thought best to hear news of his Princess, and to keep him near her, the same was it which set him at a greater distance from her. For Madam, as he was one evening taking the Air upon the banks of the River Araxes by himself alone, and being far from the house where he lodged, a stranger did accost him, and speaking to him in a broken Language, he spoke as thinking him to be Artamenes, and as if he had seen him in the Court of Thomiris. Spitridates perceiving his error, would undeceive him, but he could not: For this stranger was so confident that this Prince would only conceal himself, as he never offered to examine seriously whether or no his eyes had deceived him: and indeed not giving any credit unto his words, he executed his design which he had upon the person of that Prince, and did it with ease: For since Spitridates was alone and without any Arms; and since this stranger was seconded by ten men, which lay in ambush, it was easy for them to force him to enter into a Bark which was not far off: and it was the more easy, because the stranger having told him that he would carry him unto a great Queen, where he should receive no harm, provided he would repent himself of his flight, Spitridates thought it would be the more easy to undeceive him by arguing with him, then by defending himself in vain, since he was alone, unarmed, and against ten men, thinking that if he should offer to make any obstinate resistance, it would the more argue him to be the man he was taken for. So that going into the Bark, and not being able to hinder the six Rowers from putting off the shore where he intended to stay a while, he began to make a thousand protestations unto this stranger, that he was not the same man which he took him for: but all in vain.  
I beseech you said, Spitridates unto him, ask every one you meet what Reports go of Artamenes whose name is so famous, and I am sure all will answer you, that he cannot be in Paphlagonia. I need not inquire of any, replied the man, when my own eyes tells me I am sure: therefore, Sir, with no murmur against my violence, I beseech you give me leave to carry you unto a Queen whose Subject I am, and believe it, it shall be long of yourself if you be not favourably received. I came by orders from her, pursued he, to inform myself of the causes of your Imprisonment (the News whereof hath reached the Queen Thomiris) to let you know, that if you will change your thoughts of her, she will march with an Army of a hundred thousand men to force you out of Ciaxares his Fetters, and set you out of a Prison upon a Throne.  
In order to this, the Queen Thomiris hath given me wherewith to suborn your Guards, and to attempt any thing for your Liberty, but I perceive, Sir, you have yourself procured it. Then Spitridates protested unto him again, that he was not Artamenes, but that he was still a Prisoner unto Ciaxares, but the man would not believe him, and was so obstinate in his mistake, that Spitridates must submit. The reason why this man was so hard to be undeceived, was, that though he had seen the Illustrious Cyrus a hundred times with Thomiris, yet as he told him, he never heard him speak: so that the tone of Spitridates would not undeceive him, though there was some difference between the pronunciation of Spitridates, and that of Cyrus: Yet Spitridates did not a little wonder that he should still be taken for another; for since he did not then know that Cyrus and Artamenes were both one Person, he could not choose but think it strange, that first they should carry him unto Cambyses as being Cyrus, and now carry him unto Thomiris as being Artamenes; yet go he must, for he was so strictly guarded that he could not choose: But (said he unto the man who thus forced him) It does not appear unto me by your speeches that Thomiris ever appointed you to do as you have done: since, Sir, replied he, she could not foresee, I should find you in such a condition as I have done; she could not command me to secure your Person with ten men only: but since she honoured me so far as to tell me that she would arm a hundred thousand men to have you in her power, it was an implicit Command to bring you unto it, if I could by all the ways that Fortune and opportuniry should offer me. Also I have been this eight days since accidentally I saw you in the Temple, in following you and waiting for an occasion to find you alone, as now I found you upon the Banks of Araxes.  
Thus, Madam, did this man speak unto this Illustrious Captive whom he knew not, & for his more safe Convoy, he would have him always lie in the Bark, and not set foot upon land, until he came to the place where Araxes bounders the Country of the Massagettes. He was no sooner there but the man carrying Spitridates to lodge with a man of his acquaintance, which had a very good Tent upon the banks of that River, he sent one of his men to acquaint Thomiris that he had brought Artamenes unto her and to know her pleasure concerning him, not daring to bring him to her without having special orders for it. But whilst this Messenger was in his jonrny, Spitridates observing that the Master of the Tent where he lodged was of a good wit, and that he understood broken Greek passably enough, which is so generally spoken over all Asia, because contrary to the custom of the Massagettes, he had been a Traveller, he asked him concerning the Queen, and what they said of her? Sir, said he, the Queen is a most excellent Princess, and if her Passions were somewhat less violent, she would be all Excellency and all Virtue; but indeed they are so predominate in her, that Reason often will not rule her; For if either Ambition, Choler, or Envy possess her, she humour's the Passion without resistance. Indeed her Action against the Prince Ariantes her Brother, to Reign in prejudice of him; her Action against the Prince Aripithes who was long since in love with her, and her Actions concerning the Ambassador from Ciaxares who stole from Court, and is called Artamenes: All these do make it manifestly appear that she has no command over her Passions, and that Ambition, Anger, and Love do easily get dominion over her heart, and reign there in full Tyranny; And indeed the voice is, that this Princess will raise a very formidable Army, either to be revenged upon Artamenes, or else to make him love her: as if it were as great a matter to conquer the heart of this Ambassador as to conquer a Kingdom. I know that Fame speaks this Artamenes to be a most admirable man, and that if the Massagettans had such a King, they might pretend easily to be Masters of both Scythias: But for all that, since the Queen hath a Son, and since Artamenes did steal away from the Court, I believe the War would be unjust, and the Event cannot be happy.  
Spitridates hearing this man express himself so wisely, resolved to open himself unto him, to try if he could procure his help to make an escape: So that whilst all his Guards stood at the Entry of the Tent, which was very spacious, he told him how the case stood. But, Madam, such was the Fate of Spitridates to be taken for Cyrus, that though this man had never seen either of them, yet he believed that he who spoke unto him was Artamenes: For, Sir, said he unto him, if you be not he, you need not fear being Arrested by Thomiris, since you may be sure that as soon as ever she sees you, she will set you at liberty, therefore, Sir, I need not endeavour your escape: But I fear, answered Spitridates, I fear lest the Queen should be mistaken in me, as the man who first arrested me is; However it be, Sir, replied the man, your best course to make me endeavour your escape, is to confess ingeniously that you are really Artamenes: for if you be, I must confess unto you, that I am so devoted unto the Queen's glory, as I am apt enough to take an occasion from her of doing a thing which would reflect upon her honour, if she should retain you Prisoner. The truth is, Madam, since Spitridates had no other course, he deceived this virtuous Massagettan, since he desired to be deceived; And indeed the man did so well manage the matter, as he got Spitridates one night out of his Tent, by a backway which his Guards knew not of; and to make his flight more safe, he would not let him attempt to cross the River, which was very broad and deep, since there was not one Fisherman whom he durst trust. Therefore he conveyed him into a poor Shepherd's Tent which belonged unto him, where he lay hid above eight days. In the mean time he heard how grieved the man was who first took him: how joyed Thomiris was, when she heard that she was to have Artamenes in her power, and how vexed she was when she was told he was escaped. Her grief, Madam, was so great, that setting all consideration aside, she went herself to the River Araxes to search for Artamenes in all the Tents about it: So that Spitridates knowing how the Queen and all her Retinue was to come unto the place where he was, and fearing that his resemblance with Artamenes would betray him to her as it had done to many others; also longing to hear some news of Araminta, he resolved by the help of his deliverer to suborn a Fisherman, and so they did in all haste. But though they resolved that his flight should be in the night, yet they could not stay so long, but he must depart presently, because they had intelligence that Thomiris was very near. So that hastening their design, the Fisherman was presently provided, and Spitridates went into the Bark with a horse which his honest Host gave him: and he took boat just as Thomiris who was that day on horseback was in sight, and followed with abundance of company some two hundred paces from the place where Spitridates was embarked. At first, the Fisherman who was busy about his Ba●k, took no notice of them, but rowed as hard as he could: yet when he was as far as the middle of the River, he spied the crowd of people which followed the Queen, and thought it was the Princess who was expected to come: So that being much frighted at it, in lieu of rowing on, he would carry Spitridates back to the place where he first took him in: but that Prince having got a good Scimitar before he embarked, did draw it, and threatened the man to kill him if he did not row on and carry him quickly to the other side of the River: So that being extremely terrified, he rowed with all the strength he had, and got from the side where Thomiris was. But, Madam to make this adventure more extraordinary: The Queen chancing to cast her eyes upon the boat wherein Spitridates was when he drew his Scimitar, she was so surprised, and had her imagination so filled with the fancy of Artamenes, as she did absolutely take Spitridates to be him, imagining him to have the same stature and action, and fancying that she saw the very same features of face though at that distance: So that her Spirits being all Choler and fury, when she saw how this supposed Artamenes threatened the Fisherman to kill him, if he did not carry him from her: she both did and said such things as did not become her great Courage and Virtue. Could this ungrateful man know (said she aloud) that I intended to arm a hundred thousand men purposely for his delivery, and can he threaten a poor Innocent to kill him, rather than see me? Canst thou endure this Thomiris? Canst thou suffer it? Fie, no, no, it cannot be endured, it is too much baseness to be suffered. Then would she give a hundred several and different Commands; one while she commanded to get a boat to go after him, another while being transported with the violence of her Passion, she would go herself, another while fearing that a boat could not be had soon enough to overtake him whom she took for Artamenes; she commanded her Guard to shoot a Cloud of Arrows at the Fisherman, to make him stay the Bark, not considering that she was out of distance for it: then in an instant after fearing they might kill Artamenes in lieu of the Fisherman, she for bad what before she commanded, and chose rather to let Artamenes live then to be revenged by his death: And all her thoughts were in such a tumultuous disorder, as I am persuaded that she herself knew not what they were.  
In the mean time, since those that went after this supposed Artamenes, not being able to overtake him, it vexed her to see him in the boat, to see him land, to see him take horse, and at last to lose the sight of him. This adventure did so much incense her, that he who helped Spitridates to escape, was forced to provide for his own safety, because there was some suspicion of the truth: so that he followed Spitridates, and afterwards meeting with him at Colchides, he acquainted him with all these passages, and how Thomiris employed several men to pursue him, and how the Queen was so extremely grieved at this adventure as she fell in a sickness, as all Physicians did say it would be long before she recovered. Spitridates being so fortunate as to meet accidentally with his Page, he was well able to recompense his deliverer, if he had been of an humour to enrich himself. But this virtuous Massagettan being declared Enemy unto all Riches, was contented to sacrifice his Fortunes unto the Queen's Glory, and refused the offers of Spitridates which was very considerable, for he had great abundance of Jewels in the hands of that faithful Page. Yet this generous Massagettan would not receive any gift, telling Spitridates that he was very well contented to adore the Sun which produced all those Excellencies without enriching himself by any of those glorious Productions.  
In the mean while, Spitridates thought upon nothing so much as Araminta, and enquired of her as much as he could, but meeting with nothing but uncertainties, he embarked on the Euxine Sea, intending for Paphlagonia, where he hoped for more certain intelligence: As for his Page, he knew nothing but common talk went she was not at Artaxates, nor the King of Pontus neither: but that on the contrary you, Madam, was there, and that Ciaxares brought the War thither, under the Command of the Illustrious Artamenes, who was known to be Cyrus.  
Spitridates then being embarked in a Merchant's Ship, was so unfortunate in his Navigation, and had the winds so contrary, that after the Tempest had tossed him from Point to Point, and side to side, not being able to land any where, he was at last driven to the Meotidan Lake, where he suffered Shipwreck, and that in such a sad manner, as the Ship, the Merchandise, all the men, except himself and five or six more did lamentably perish. This sad Accident had not grieved Spitridates so much, if it had happened upon the Coasts of Capadocia, or any place where he might inquire of Araminta: but being cast upon a place so far distant from the place where his business lay, it grieved him extremely: Not that the Euxine Sea was so vast but that it might be passed over in few days with a favourable wind. But it was not so easy a matter for him to do it, being without Ship, without acquaintance, and also without his Jewels, since his Page perished, and with him, all he had.  
Moreover since all Asia was in Arms, Commerce failed, and the Inhabitants upon the Meotidan Lake, sent out no Ships; Insomuch that the unfortunate Spitridates was forced to go by Land unto the place where he intended, having only as many Jewels as would buy him a horse and bear his charges alone without any train. But, Madam, the way was so long, and he met with so many rubs in it, that when he got into Paphlagonia, the Armenian War was ended: 'tis very true, as you know, Madam, very well, that it did not continue long: but the Illustrious Cyrus was upon the Frontiers of Lydia, when Spitridates after so long and tedious Journey, arrived in Paphlagonia: But when to his misery, he heard by the public voge of the people (who seldom know, or talk any other thing but untruths, especially in State matters.) When he understood (I say) that for a conclusion of the public Peace, the King of Pontus was to marry you, Madam, and that the Illustrious Cyrus was to marry Araminta; at first, he gave no credit unto it, but afterwards meeting with a Soldier who was returning into his own Country enriched with Plunder, which he had got in the Armenian War, he understood by him how civil the Illustrious Cyrus was unto that Princess: so that though this Soldier did not tell him that you, Madam, were to marry the King of Pontus, nor that Cyrus was to marry Araminta, yet he did both believe what this Soldier said, and what the Paphlagonian people said also: so that sorrows seizing upon all his faculties, one could not be in a more miserable condition than he was. His adventure upon the River Araxes was an addition to his misery; For said he, since the greatest Queen in the world was not able to resist the Charms of Cyrus, though then she did know him to be the Son of a King, and since she loved him without being loved, how should Araminta resist her? since the Conqueror of all Asia is submissive at her feet. After this, Madam, as Lovers do always think that none can look upon the persons they love, but must love them also; So Spitridates was so unjust as to doubt the fidelity of Cyrus: so that his Soul being full of intolerable Torments, there was no violent Resolution which he had not a mind to execute. One while he would go unto the Army of Cyrus, and ask him in the midst of all his Troops, whether he were his Rival; and another while, he would go unto Araminta herself, and know from her own mouth, whether she were culpable or innocent: but his greatest care was to pass unknown through the Army of Cyrus, by reason of his prodigious resemblance.  
As he was in all these uncertainties and restless thoughts, he accidentally met with a man of Quality called Democlides, whom he left with the Princess Araminta, when he parted from her in Armenia; and when that Prince sent to inquire of the King her Brother, when she was kept a Prisoner at Artaxates.  
This meeting was a great consolation to him; but the worst was, Democlides pitying to see so great a Prince in such a miserable condition, would needs persuade him to return unto the King his Father: And the more to induce him unto it, he seemed to believe some truth in these reports, though really he gave no credit at all unto them: And further, Democlides thought it expedient to acquaint the Princess of Bythinia with the place where the Prince her Brother was, to the end she might advise upon the best expedients to render him less miserable: And he had a fitter occasion for it then he thought of: For since Spitridates was in a condition to attempt any thing, he resolved to send secretly unto the Princess his Sister, to put him into some equipage, either to perform his resolution of going into the Army of Cyrus, or to take the part of the Lydian King, if he found any certainties of Cyrus his being a Rival: But yet he would not upon any terms let the Princess of Bythinia know the place where he was, and therefore he expressly charged the servant of Democlides whom he sent unto her, to acquaint her: But Democrites writing unto her from himself, did intimate the truth of all things in his Letter.  
In the mean time, Spitridates and Democlides remained in their Lodgings, which was in a Village not far from a Forest, where they used ●o walk and take the Air every day in expectation of his return whom they had sent unto the Princess: For since there is only a Nook of Galatia betwixt Paphlagonia and Bythinia where Arsamones was, his journey was not long. But Madam, not to repeat what you know already; one day, as they were walking in the Forest they were set upon by certain Robbers, and were rescued by the valiant Anaxanis, who left Spitridates much wounded, not knowing who he was; for Democlides whom Anaxaris took to be the servant of Spitridates, would not tell him.  
On the other side, the servant of Democlides coming unto a Chalcedonian Port, he was there stopped to know who he was, from whence he came, and whether he was going; for Madam, you must know, that though Arsamones was quiet enough in his Dominions, yet he was as wary as if he feared every thing: holding this maxim that a conquering Prince ought not always to trust unto the fidelity of new Subjects: so that a Guard was kept at Chalcedonia, as strictly as in times of War. So that the servant of Democlides having answered something suspiciously, and being upon examination trapped, he was stayed to be farther examined: But what needed further? An Officer belonging to Arsamones knew him to be the servant of Democlides, who was well known to go from Cabyria with Spitridates, and thought that happily he knew where he was, and therefore he would advertise Arsamones of it: And brought this man before him, who did so terrify this more weak than wicked wretch, as he gave them the letter of Spitridates unto the Princess his Sister, and likewise Democlides to the same Princess; so that knowing by this last Letter where Spitridates was, he was committed unto close Guard, keeping the business close from every one but such as were to execute his intended course, so as no 〈◊〉 of it was in all the Court.  
In the mean while, Arsamones made choice of a faithful fellow, and gave him twenty for his guard, to go unto the place where Spitridates was, giving him also the servant of Democlides with orders notwithstanding to guard him safely lest he should escape and acquaint his Master. But to the end that his commands of securing the person of Spitridates might be more punctually executed, he told the man who was to execute this great design, that he did not desire to have Spitridates in his power, but only to force happiness upon him: so that this man, thinking that his transaction was as well for the good of Spitridates as Arsamones, did protest unto him, that he would not hearken unto any Prayers, Promises, or Threats, which the Prince his Son should make, but would infallibly bring him. After this, Arsamones commanded him that when he did bring the Prince his Son, not to enter into any Town, but to stay a day's journey from Heraclea, and give notice how all things stood. But, Madam, without more particulars, be pleased to know, that this man came to the place where Spitridates was, and seized upon him, which was easy to be done; for he found him in bed, not cured of his wounds, though out of all danger. Moreover the place was far from Towns; And since the Prince of Paphlagonia was then in the Army of Cyrus, Spitridates knew not of whom he should ask protection? But to make the matter more easy, Democlides being persuaded that this Prince would not be so miserable in his own Country as where he was, and advised him to submit unto the force without murmur against the King his Father, since he was not able to resist: Yet Spitridates did not yield before he had employed all his rhetoric to persuade the man to let him go at liberty: but at last seeing he could not move him, neither by hopes of recompense, nor by any threats, he resolved to go along with him, not being able to resist twenty men, who at first disarmed both him and Democlides, since Spitridates was very weak, they were forced to put him into a Coach: so, as though this Prince was as violent as any that ever loved, yet it was an easy matter to carry him. And he came within a day's journey of Heraclea without any obstacle: And the man who commanded the Guard sent to acquaint Arsamones with what he had done: So that this violent Prince commanded him to bring Spitridates unto Heraclea in the night time, lest the people should grumble, and sent more Soldiers that way Spitridates was to come, that his Guard might be the stronger; And the business was dispatched with so much secrecy, that no reports of it were spread abroad: But since the Policy of Arsamones was something severe to punish many, lest all should become Delinquents: Prisoners were so ordinary, that it was no wonder to hear talk that some were brought in the night into Heraclea. In somuch that the Princess Intaphernes and Atergatis knew nothing of Spitridates his imprisonment, no more than the Princess of Bythinia or the Princess Istrina: For indeed, Madam, the Prince Spitridates was put into a Tower by the Seaside, with a strong Guard; and Democlides was also his Companion, though he did earnestly persuade him to go unto Heraclea without resistance.  
In the mean time, Arsamones commanded that this Prince should be very carefully looked unto: but so very few did see him, and those that did were so faithful to the King of Bythinia, that for some days Spitridates was never thought of. But Arsamones going one morning to this Tower where Spitridates was, and not returning of two hours after, did move some suspicion of some extraordinary Prisoners; for he returned out with so many signs of fury in his face, as those who waited upon him at the foot of the Tower, did easily observe it and divulge it, so as it was conjectured, that these Prisoners were some of great importance, but they knew no more: And Atergatis and Istrina did not know how much they were concerned in the Conference between Arsamones and Spitridates: For, Madam, be pleased to know, that Arsamones did not only move Spitridates to cast of all thoughts of the Princess Araminta, but propounded a marriage with Istrina, not doubting but that Princess would willingly be Queen of two Kingdoms, and cast off Atergatis, whom he knew Gadates would not have her to marry. But since nothing could shake the affection of Spitridates unto Araminta, he rejected the Proposition which Arsamones made. How Spitridates (said Arsamones) can you be so foolish as to renounce the two Kingdoms of Pontus and Bythinia which I have Conquered, rather than renounce the Daughter of a Usurper, and the Sister of a Prince who hates you, and would heretofore have Araminta preferred Pharnaces before you? Consider Spitridates, consider seriously what the value of two Kingdoms, which now you may either gain or lose, by obeying or disobeying me. I have tossed and toiled above this twenty years to set you upon a Throne; It hath cost the life of the Prince your Brother, and twenty thousand more who have all perished to break those Chains which fettered you, and to set the Crown upon your head: And will you rather love a Slave, and be a Slave yourself then enjoy the fruits of all my Victories? For to think, that I will ever suffer Araminta to be Queen of Pontus and Bythinia, is a thing which I hate to hear of: For besides my resentments of hatred, revenge, and glory also, which will not let me consent unto it; even Policy only will not allow me to give a new title unto my Enemies, by this alliance. I know very well that Araminta is fair, witty, of much Spirit and Virtue, but since she is Daughter and Sister to my Enemies and Ruinors of my house: you must Spitridates either think no more upon her, or else think yourself my Enemy; She whom I motion unto you is as fair and virtuous as Araminta can be. Moreover, she is the Daughter and Sister of a Prince who wisheth my Glory and Sister unto another, who hath helped me to that Throne upon which I would set you: Yet all these powerful arguments could not stagger the constancy of Spitridates: and as I told you before, he rejected the motion of Arsamones with incredible resolution though his mind at that time was much incensed against Araminta. However Arsamones did not quite despair of changing his mind, but resolved upon three things. The first to acquaint that Prince with the meeting of Araminta and the King of Pontus by the permittance of Cyrus. The second, to acquaint him with all those reports of Cyrus his love to Araminta, though he knew them to be all false: And the third, that when he had enfused jealous apprehensions into his fancy, to acquaint the Queen Arbiana with the imprisonment of Spitridates, that she might go to see him, and carry Istrina with her, hoping that the beauty of the Princess would sooner change his thoughts from Araminta, than all his persuasions and policy. And indeed, Madam, in order to these Resolutions, he did infuse such jealous apprehensions into the heart of Spitridates, as this Prince could not enjoy one minutes rest, and his Soul was so sunk in sorrows, that having found a way how to write to the Prince Araminta, he would not make use of that way to let the Princess her Sister know of his imprisonment.  
But as the first design of Arsamones did hit, so his second did not; as I shall presently tell you. However, since the day that Arsamones was with Spitridates, he came out from him much moved, every one was inquisitive of the true cause, but could not find it out: Yet at last Arsamones hearing that Spitridates was much disquieted, and knowing by some of the Guard that he made continual complaints against the Princess Araminta when he talked with Democlides, he thought it time to let him see the Princess Istrina: So that acquainting Arbiana with the imprisonment of the Prince her Son, he permitted her to see him, and to carry with her the Princess her Daughter and Istrina, upon the condition, that they use all their endeavours to dissuade him from his obstinate thoughts of marrying Araminta. But he did not acquaint them with the proposition he had made unto Spitridates concerning Istrina. Since Arsamones was terrible unto all that knew him; Arbiana and both the Princesess did promise what he desired, purposely to see this illustrious Prisoner; so that they were conducted thither the same day. You may easily think, Madam, that Arbiana and the Princess her Daughter, could not see Spitridates in Prison without extreme sorrow: And on the other side, that Prince could not see them without some consolation, though his heart was full of grief. As for Istrina, it did exceedingly pity her heart to see this Prince in that condition: But for his part, though he did much esteem her when he last saw her at Heraclea before he went to Cyrus, yet he was very sorry to see her now, because he thought she was acquainted with the motion of Arsamones, and did interpret all her obliging expressions as a premeditated design to render him perfidious and to drive Araminta from his heart: So that looking upon her almost as an Enemy, which came to assault him by open force, he had much ado to hide the turbulence of his spirits. Furthermore, since Arbiana had promised to dissuade him as much as she could from his thoughts of Araminta, and indeed did wish it; she would say something with as much sweetness and prudence as she could, which might persuade him, that constancy is a virtue which ought to have its Limits as other virtues have; and that when one was resolute upon a thing impossible, it was rather wilfulness than constancy, and therefore she conjured him to consider very seriously whether his resolute denial of Arsamones, was of such a Nature as would merit the name of a Virtue. Spitridates hearing Arbiana speak thus, was much moved, and most humbly beseeched her not to loaden him with new punishments by forcing him to resist her will, as he had the King his Fathers: For truly, Madam (said he unto her) I am so fully resolved never to forsake Araminta, as I shall not only be a Rebel unto the Kings will and yours, but I must declare also that if I could get out of this Prison, I should employ my liberty only in going unto that Princess, though the Conqueror of Asia should love her, as they would persuade me he doth: For the truth is, I cannot live without her. It is enough that the King hath driven the King her Brother out of his Kingdom, without desiring to drive her out of my heart: Therefore, Madam, I beseech your Majesty to believe, that though the King would resign up all his regal Authority, and set me upon the Throne to morrow, yet I would not accept of it, unless upon condition that the first act of my Reign might be to Crown Araminta Queen. Therefore, Madam, all that I am able to do, is to beseech you, that you be pleased to persuade the King, and persuade yourself, how extremely grieved I am, that Fortune and Love should drive me to a fatal necessity of disobeying him, and denying you. Spitridates did pronounce these words in such feeling manner, as the hearts of Arbiana and the Princesess did even melt at the hearing them. But since they knew very well, that Arsamones would not have permitted this Visit, but in hopes of persuading him the Princesess of Bythinia told Spitridates, that he must give them leave to tell Arsamones how they had spoke unto him according to his desires: With all my heart, Sister, replied he, provided still you tell him that I am not changed in my mind, nor ever will. After this their discourse changed subject, and Spitridates asked how the Prince Intaphernes did and earnestly desired to see him, adding that his Soul had something which he longed to impart unto him, Istrina hearing this, assured him that there was such a dear Corespondency between the Prince her brother and herself, that he might trust her with any thing he desired to impart unto him; and therefore being uncertain whether Arsamones would let Intaphernes see him, she would willingly do him that Office. That which I would impart unto the Prince Intaphernes replied he, (and a little changed Countenance) is of such a nature as I cannot well impart it unto you: All I can say, is to beseech you by the Queen's leave, if so it chance, that one of the most excellent persons in the world do complain of me in his presence, to tell him that I am not culpable, and that I think my misfortune to seem as if I did not esteem her (though really I do infinitely) to be one of the greatest which ever happened. Since Istrina was unacquainted with the motion which Arsamones made unto Spitridates, she understood him not: but for his part, he being persuaded that she was acquainted with it, did think the least he could do, was to put her off handsomely. But as Istrina was ignorant of it, so was Arbiana and the Princess of Bythinia also: yet Istrina promised to tell the Prince Intaphernes what he desired. On the other side Spitridates, who fain would, but durst not ask the Queen his Mother what he should think of Araminta, he had much wavering in his resolution: but at last, being prompted by some suggestions of jealousy, he asked her some indirect Questions concerning her; And since the Queen imagined that the more faithful he believed Araminta, the more obstinate he would be, she only told him what reports were, and not what she thought: After which Arbiana and the Princesess retired. In their return to the Palace, to gain more time they resolved not to do as Spitridates would have them; but on the contrary, to keep Arsamones in hopes as long as they could.  
In the mean time, Arsamones who was hasty and violent in all his actions, had sent for Intaphernes whilst they were with Spitridates, and discovered unto him his intentions of marrying the Princess his Sister unto the Prince his Son. You may imagine, Madam, that such a resolution did much surprise and perplex Intaphernes: For his love to the Princess of Bythinia required one thing, and his Friendship to Atergatis required another: Also knowing how far the heart of Istrina was engaged, he did not think it possible for him, though he should cast of Atergatis, to persuade her from him. Moreover, he thought that the Prince Spitridates would not obey Arsamones, and quit his pretensions unto the Princess Araminta: yet he knew that if he did directly oppose Arsamones, he should endanger to incense him highly, and to be banished the Court; So that taking a middle course, betwixt confessing and denying what he desired, he told him, that his motion was very glorious for the Princess his Sister: but since it rested absolutely upon Gadates and not at all upon him, he thought himself obliged to tell him, that he believed, Gadates would never consent unto Istrinas' marriage, as long as the King of Assyria was unmarried: Also it was not likely, that he being on the Part with Cyrus, he will give his Daughter unto a Prince who cannot marry her, unless he forsake the Princess Araminta whom Cyrus doth highly protect. After this Intaphernes did sweeten the matter with a thousand obliging expressions, which though just and reasonable, yet they disposed Arsamones unto anger. If the Princess Istrina replied he, were in the Camp of Cyrus, perhaps the Prince your Father might refuse the motion; But since she is at Heraclea, perhaps he will be wiser, then to prefer the uncertain hopes of marrying her unto a King without a Kingdom, before the certainty of marrying her unto a Prince who is sure of two. Therefore all I desire of you, is, that you dispose the Princess Istrina to help me to drive Araminta out of Spitridates his mind, since she is better able to do it than any I know, having all perfections which may move him to obey me and love her.  
After this, Arsamones not giving Intaphernes so much leisure as to reply, did leave him and left him in a great perplexity. However, after he had seriously considered upon the matter, since love was stronger in him then any other thought, he resolved to speak unto the Princess of Bythina, before he talked unto Istrinia and Atergatis of the new persecutions which were like to fall upon them: And accordingly without more delay, he went unto her, and easily found a fit opportunity of talking with her, since there were no such busy Ladies at Heraclea, as Berisa was, to hinder him: But he had the freedom to talk what he would, and acquainted her with the Proposition which the King her Father made unto him, ask her how she would have him do in the business? Conjuring her, that as she was full of goodness and wisdom, so, that she would consider seriously upon the several Interests of the Prince Spitridates, of Atergatis, of Istrina, and of himself, and desiring her to examine very carefully, whether she herself had any Interest in it. I have so much, replied the Princess, that (as I conceive) none can have more than I have: for loving the Prince my brother so tenderly as I do, and having promised an unviolable fidelity unto the Princess Araminta; Certainly it is my duty to endeavour all possible ways that nothing should separate them: So that though I had no other motive but this, I should as much as I was able oppose the mind of the King my Father; Judge also what I ought to do, knowing his design of troubling the felicity of the Princess Istrina and Atergatis. But, Madam, replied Intaphernes, I do not hear you mention any Interest that I have in this perverse resolution: Since I do not mention my own (replied the Princess) you ought not to be offended at it; yet I think it would not be amiss, replied he, if you would be pleased to consider, that if I should earnestly oppose the King, perhaps he would banish me his Court, and perhaps also banish me out of your memory (and if I durst say it) your heart. As the Princess of Bythinia was going to answer, the Princess Istrina came unto her Chamber with Atergatis: so that having no time to tell Intaphernes what she thought, the discourse began more quietly than it ended; for Atergatis and the Princess were so surprised at the intentions of Arsamones, that they were not able to speak. At first, Atergatis looked upon Istrina as if he would look into her thoughts: presently after he looked upon Intaphernes, as if his looks begged his protection: and presently after he looked in the eyes of the Bythinian Princess, to see whether she approved of the King her Father's design. And lastly, he considered with himself for a remedy against all these miseries. On the other side, Istrina looked upon Intaphernes so earnestly, that she did penetrate into the very bottom of his heart, and knew how this troubled him. The Princess of Bythinia, for her part, did love Intaphernes too well to have him banished, and did cast about for some expedient which might keep Spitridates from incensing Arsamones against him, and yet not prejudice any party. But after each of them in particular had considered on the business, and after they had long talked of it in general, they began by degrees to talk in particular: Intaphernes whispered with the Princess of Bythinia; and Atergatis, with Istrina. You see, Madam, (said the last of these unto his adored Princess) that Fortune doth Court you with Crowns in all places, and poor I, am destined to Petition against your Grandeur: But I most humbly beg of you, Madam, to be no more unjust unto me at Heraclea, than you were at Babylon; and give me leave to wish as zealously that the intentions of Arsamones may thrive no better than those of Nitocris. I am so far from contradicting your wishes, replied Istrina, that I assure you Sir, I will add mine unto yours. Not but that I do as highly esteem the Prince Spitridates, as I scorn the unjust Prince who slighted me; but my reason is— Oh I beseech you Madam (said Atergatis, and interrupted her) give me no reasons which concern me not; but let me have the happiness to believe, that if the possession of two Kingdoms be indifferent unto you, it is because the poor Atergatis is not altogether indifferent in your thoughts. There is no necessity, replied she, that I should explain myself as you would have me; for the secrets of one's heart are not to be discovered; and there is a sort of thoughts never to be known, and but only guessed at: Then Madam, said he unto her, I beseech you give me leave to guess at yours to be as I desire them: I give you leave (said she, and blushed) to think all you can for your own advantage, provided they be not disadvantageous unto me. However I pray consider the crossness of my Fate: may it not very well be said, that fortune takes a delight to persecute me by the very same things which use to be the felicity of others? And so was the destiny of the Prince my Father, who when he was at the very point of being a King, was for ever banished the Court by the very same Princess who would have had him Reign: I was once looked upon as one that was to be a Queen, though the King of Assyria looked upon me as a slave; yet after I had rooted all ambitious thoughts out of my heart, they tell me again of Kingdoms and Crowns only to torment me, and hinder me from Reigning over myself. But since I do not owe so much respect unto Arsamones as I did unto Nitocris, I shall deny him with more force than he imagines, provided the Prince my Father does not take his part. Oh Madam, said Atergatis, what cruel words do you pronounce, after so many favourable ones? Atergatis spoke this so loud, that the Princess of Bythinia heard him, & asked what Injustice Istrina did him? so that the Conference became general again, and they consulted together what was best to be done: yet they could not all agree upon the best Expedient; for when Intaphernes for the interest of his love, said that he ought not positively to oppose Arsamones, because he knew that Gadates would oppose it also, Atergatis did not think that advice good: but on the contrary he said, to draw the Princess of Bythinia unto his opinion, that it did extremely concern the Prince Spitridates for Intaphernes to let Arsamones see that his design was impossible, to the end he might let that Prince be at quiet in his Prison, though he would not release him.  
He had no sooner spoke this, but Intaphernes did very civilly oppose the opinion of his friend, and told him that if he should do so, Arsamones who had a deep wit, would believe that he opposed him only in favour unto the passion which he bore unto the Princess, his Sister, and so he might perhaps move him to banish them both the Court, and keep Istrina there.  
I do conceive it most fit, said the Princess of Bythinia, that the Princess Istrina do undertake to oppose the King my Father, and that she do endeavour to move Spitridates not to oppose him so much, purposely to appease him, and therefore I conceive it best for the Princess Istrina and the Prince Spitridates both, to resist Arsamones with equal resolutions. For my part, said Istrina then, I am very ready myself alone to oppose the King's design: Yet I am persuaded that if all of us did equally oppose him, our side would be the stronger: I am afraid Sister, replied Intaphernes, that it would be the weaker; for if Arsamones should be incensed against the Princess, against Spitridates, against Atergatis, against you, and against me, who shall be the Mediator to appease so great a difference? The reason of Intaphernes making the rest to concur with his opinion, it was first resolved to spin out the time as long as they could: and if so it happened that Arsamones did not alter his mind, Intaphernes should then tell him, that the Princess his Sister protested she would rather die, then marry a Prince who could never be her Husband, unless he were perfidious unto the most victorious Princess in the world.  
This resolution being agreed upon, Intaphernes bethought himself how to temper the mind of Arsamones how to spin out the time, and how to give leisure unto the fatherly tenderness and reason of that Prince to overcome that politic obstinacy and desire of revenge, which made him so oppose the love of Spitridates unto Araminta; and indeed for a while his design did take, for since Arsamones had more hopes in the beauty of Istrina then any thing else, to work a change in Spitridates, he would not be over-urgent with his son, to the end the fair eyes of that Princess might have some time to turn him Infidel.  
In the mean while, the Princess of Bythinia thinking to add some comfort unto the Prince her brother, as well as to satisfy herself, she went every day to see him. But Madam, the most observable passage was, that the Princess Istrina went thither also, because Arsamones did not give the Princess his daughter leave to see Spitridates, unless the Princess Istrina went with her: so that Intaphernes and Atergatis were not at all the happier: and this order of Arsamones did breed such a confusion in a few days, that these five persons (as wise and reasonable as they were) there was a kind of division amongst them.  
The truth is, Madam, Spitridates complained in secret against the Princess of Bythinia, for seeming as if she intended to drive Araminta out of his heart by bringing the Princess Istrina always with her; for since these two Princesses could not speak unto him without witness, they could not undeceive him: so that with murmur of heart he accused Intaphernes, for not being generous enough: Istrina, for not standing enough upon her honour: Atergatis, for a very bad Lover: And the Princess his Sister for not being constant to her first thoughts, & for not loving Araminta enough. As for Atergatis he was in a lamentable plight, for he feared that Spitridates would turn Infidel to Araminta by seeing Istrina, and he feared that Istrina at the Queen's desire would turn Infidel to him.  
Nor was he well satisfied with Intaphernes, thinking he might move Istrina not to accompany the Princess of Bythinia when she went to Spitridates, murmuring also against the Prince Spitridates for receiving visits from one they would have him marry, and complaining against the Princess of Bythinia, who without consideration either of his case or the Princess Araminta's, unto whom she had promised so much friendship, did still see Spitridates once every day. But all these complaints were nothing in comparison of those which he himself made against Istrina for going every day unto a Prince, whom she knew Arsamones would have her marry.  
On the other side, the Princess of Bythinia complained, that Intaphernes in behalf of Atergatis, had pressed her more than once to spare some of her frequent visits unto Spitridates, and that Istrina would hardly be drawn to accompany her: Also she murmured that Atergatis should grumble against her: But she did more sharply resent a kind of hollow coldness which she observed in the mind of Spitridates.  
As for Istrina, she was off the hooks as much as any of the rest; for valuing the satisfaction of Atergatis very much, she heartily wished that the Prince her Brother, by virtue of his absolute authority over her, would hinder her from accompanying the Princess of Bythinia in her visits to Spitridates: But since he did not so, she murmured against him, and complained no less that the Princess of Bythinia should want that piece of Complacency to her. However, she was very angry that Atergatis should find fault with her too often visits of Spitridates, and she was also something angry to observe that the illustrious Prisoner was something civil towards her. Furthermore, Intaphernes thought much at Atergatis, knowing his Passion to the Princess of Bythinia, that he should offer so obstinately to resist him. Nor did he take it well that Istrina should accompany that Princess with so many signs of unwillingness, though he would not have her break off with Atergatis. But he took it much worse, that the Princess whom he loved should not give him any hopes of his happiness in a Conjuncture wherein he thought she might well permit him to make trial of it by discovering his design unto Arsamones. Thus these five illustrious persons, murmuring in secret without any open Complaints, they knew not what to say when met together.  
In the mean time Arsamones after he had given so much time as he thought requisite for the beauty of Istrina to work its effects in driving Araminta out of his son's heart, he began to speak big like a Prince that would be obeyed: and to declare unto Arbiana, unto the Princess his Daughter, unto Spitridates, and every one to whom he spoke, that he was fully resolved to Court Istrina unto the marriage of Spitridates, and that he was resolved to hinder Spitridates from marrying Araminta. You may judge Madam, how this resolution did perplex all the persons that were concerned in the business: Then did the Princess of Bythinia, Istrina, Intaphernes and Atergatis being all together, begin to justify themselves by accusing each other, and laying the misfortune upon every one but themselves: But when this secret poison w●h had lurked in their hearts, & caused many a throb, did begin to evaporate by complaints, they began to take fresh comfort. At first, they vented their Complaints tumultuously and in much confusion, but by degrees collecting their thoughts into some order, they did all justify themselves; and their passions teaching them to excuse the passions of others, they made a Peace, and accused only themselves for this secret schism which was like to have spoilt their whole business: So that esteem, Love, and friendship assuming place in their hearts without any anger, spite, and a miscellany of many other tumultuous thoughts, they began to complayn of their own miseries, & not of one another's. But though this seemed to be solidly made, yet Atergatis whose love was very violent, he could not hope for any satisfaction of it, until he had found out a way to make the design of Arsamones impossible. Though these persons had infinite spirits & wit in abundance, yet they were extremely puzzled. For, said the Princess of Bythinia, though it should be possible to murder the passion of the Prince my Brother, yet I should never consent unto it: and though I believe his liberty would be his Exile, perhaps cost him his life, at least be very long, yet I wish he had it. It is the only remedy replied Atergatis, which can be found to comfort this illustrious Prince, and perhaps to force Arsamones unto a cessation of his persecutions; for truly Madam, what comfort can you take to see the Prince Intaphernes loaden with fetters, and to see him perpetually tormented by the King your Father? Though its true, replied she, that it would be more advantageons for the Prince my Brother to wander like a fugitive, then to continue a Prisoner; yet there is a strong reason which forbids me to procure his liberty if I could: For since the King my Father, during the exile of the Prince my Brother, would declare me Queen, I ought not to expose myself unto any suspicion of such unjust ambition.  
Oh Madam (said Istrina) your generosity is too scrupulous: How can the Prince Spitridates ever suspect you of any thoughts to reign in his prejudice? you I say, whose soul is so high, so noble, and so disinterested? and who is capable of no further ambition, but to render yourself worthy of more esteem than ever any had? Whilst Istrina was talking thus, Intaphernes hardly hearing what she said, consulted with himself, whether the liberty of Spitridates would be advantageous to him or no; and after a serious debate with himself he concluded, that as long as Arsamones had any thoughts of disinheriting Spitridates, he could never pretend unto the Princess of Bythinia: so that measuring the interest of that Prince by his own, he thought it better for him that he continued still a prisoner, then to wander over the world as he did during his exile. So that concurring with the opinion of the Bythinian Princess, and Istrina not daring to contradict them, Atergatis was singular in his opinion, and consequently did submit in appearance. However he was persuaded that the violence of Arsamones would reach further than they imagined, and that there was no other remedy neither for Spitridates nor himself, then that which he had propounded: And he intended to try if there was any possible ways to set that Prince at liberty, and put it in execution when he thought best.  
But whiles these four were thus reasoning with themselves, Spitridates having received no answer from Araminta to whom he had writ, he was extremely sad, in thought that her infidelity was the cause of her silence: For Madam, he knew not how he who carried his Letter unto that Princess, and was to bring her answer, was stopped by the Forces of Croessus, and carried unto Sardis, as we understood, after the liberty of Spitridates, so that this unfortunate Prince being every day forced by his passion to express a thousand testimonies of fidelity unto a Princess whom he thought perfidious, his despair was sometimes so great, that he wished himself able to hate Araminta. But for all that he still loved her with a most unalterable constancy: and certainly he gave sufficient testimony of it after the Peace was established between Intaphernes, Atergatis, Istrina, and the Bythinian Princess: For Arsamones being infinitely enraged at his resolute resistance, went to see him, and gave him such bitter and menacing language, as any other heart but that of Spitridates would have trembled: Yet he kept close unto his prescribed Principles; and without starting the least jot from his fidelity to Araminta, or reverence unto the King his Father, he resisted him without any tartness or complaint. But the more patient and wise he was in his sorrows, the more violent and unjust was Arsamones in his anger.  
Know thou base man that thou art, (said he unto him) that since thou wilt not be like the son of a King, thou shalt not be one: And to deprive ●hee of any title or right to succeed in two Kingdoms which I possess, I will declare and renounce the Kingdom of Bythinia, and that I have no other pretence unto it but as a Conqueror. Look upon me (said this incensed Prince) as an usurper, and not as a legitimate King: but as an usurper who can sovereignly dispose of what I have usurped, and as one that will never give it unto a man who is unworthy of it, and covers himself with eternal shame, if within one month he do not repent: this is the utmost minute that I will give him, to choose whether he will be a King or a slave: Then this violent Prince leaving him, he was at freedom to complain against his injustice. But Madam, why should I consume any time in telling you the inquietudes of a Prince whom the Gods had so pointed out for a sufferer? It is more requisite I acquaint you how Atergatis apprehending that Spitridates was resolved not to obey Arsamones, and that Istrina was not so ambitious as to be Queen of two Kingdoms, he resolved as I told you before, to try all manner of ways how to release him; for being of a most liberal disposition and a winning spirit, questionless he was qualified for such an enterprise. But Madam, that which most advanced his plot was that whilst he was tampering to suborn the Guards of Spitridates which stood at the gates of the Tower, to the end they might suborn those who were nearer his person, this generous Prisoner was tampering with those who were in his Chamber, to the end they should corrupt those which were placed at the gate of the Tower: So that Madam, though Atergatis and Spitridates held not any correspondency together, yet they transacted as if they had; so that by chance working together upon those whom they attempted to persuade, it happened that when the Guards which were within the Tower did propose the releasement of Spitridates unto those who were without, they found them upon the same design, and ready to make the same Propositions unto them within. So that there being a facility to enter persuade each other, the business was quickly concluded, and as soon executed. For since the Tower stood upon the Seaside, Atergatis having provided a Bark ready the same night which he made choice of for the releasement of this illustrious Prisoner: It was an easy matter for the suborned guards who were much the greater number, to quell the rest to release this Prince, to carry him to the Bark, and to embark with him: But Madam, the wonder was, Spitridates was released, and knew not who released him until he came unto the Sea side: For then the Prince Atergatis, who would see the execntion of the business, did make himself known unto him.  
And to complete his generosity, he gave him a Page, and told him that he should find in the Bark all things requisite or necessary for so long a voyage: After which Spitridates giving thanks unto his Deliverer with all the haste of a man that feared to lose a happiness which he was ready to enjoy, he parted from him, and making all sail and oar they could, he went I know not whither; for after his departure from Heraclea, we never heard where he landed. We understood he was at Atarmes, where you Madam took him for Cyrus, and that he saw you Embark with the King of Pontus, but we could never learn whether he went strait from Heraclea unto Atarmes.  
In the mean while, though he loved Democlides very well, who was in the same prison with him, yet he was not released; for the business was done so hastily, that the Guards of Spitridates, never thought of going to the Chamber of Democlides: And Spitridates himself, doubtless all his thoughts were so taken up with Araminta, that he thought of nothing else.  
But Madam, the most observable passage was, that the Prince Atergatis was not at all suspected: and if he had not himself confessed it unto the Princess Istrina, and Intaphernes, we had not known it. To tell you Madam, how much Arsamones was both astonished and angered when he knew of Spitridates his escape, were to attempt a thing impossible: As for Arbiana, she was very glad, for she began to fear the violence of the King. As for the Princess of Bythinia, she both joyed and grieved, foreseeing that this Exile would be worse to him then the other: As for Intaphernes though he was glad for Spitridates, yet he grieved for himself, because he thought that the liberty of this Prince would be an obstacle unto his design: And as for Atergatis, his joys were as plump as he could either wish or hope; and to make them more sensible to him, he understood that Istrina was glad of Spitridates his escape:  
In the mean time, since the pride of Arsamones would never let him complain long he affected to seem as if he were easily comforted for the absence of the Prince his son, whom he openly said should never be his Successor. Thus in a few days there was as great a calm in the Court, as if this storm had never risen: For since every one stood in fear of Arsamones, they durst neither rejoice nor grieve openly at the liberty or absence of Spitridates: And all that the Queen could do, was to obtain the liberty of Democlides, upon condition to depart from Heraclea.  
After that things had thus rested some days, it was known that the Governor of the Castle which stood upon the Frontiers of Bythinia towards Galatia, had sent a Post unto Arsamones about some important intelligence, and that Arsamones had sent twice to him. But that which did a little surprise all the Court, was, that Arsamones would have the two Princes, Intaphernes and Atergatis go with him unto the Frontiers of Bythinia. So that going neither to Chalcedonia nor Chrysipolis which are the two chief Towns, we went unto a little Village not above fifty furlongs from this Castle, whose Governor had given this intelligence which we were all ignorant of, but presently after knew what it was.  
Be pleased to know Madam, that the King of Assyria, after he went from Sardis, whilst the illustrious Cyrus was gone with Spitridates to the Princess Araminta, and with intention to inquire into what part of the world the King of Pontus had hurried you, this King of Assyria received false intelligence, which caused his imprisonment. For you must know Madam, he was told that the King of Pontus, whose Father Reigned with sovereignty sufficient to have many Creatures there, had yet so many friends left, as had plotted a great conspiracy against Arsamones, which would presently break out into a flame; so that the King of Assyria being informed of the business, and that the King of Pontus after he had carried you Madam from Sardis, had carried you into Bythinia, to the house of the head-man in the Conspiracy which was very strong: and that he carried you thither, with intentions to hide you there until all things were in readiness to set you upon the Throne, he wended his course that way.  
Though this intelligence was not probable, yet there was in it some appearance of possibility, which that Prince thought he ought not to neglect: so that he resolved for Bythinia, to satisfy himself of the truth. But since Arsamones, as I already told you, did keep a very strict Guard in all his Dominions, as if the King whom he had vanquished and driven out were still in the head of an Army, the King of Assyria being to pass a Bridge over the River Sangar, was stopped by the Guards there, to know from whence he came, and whither he went. But he being of an imperious temper, in lieu of answering to those Questions, begun to be angry, and his Examiner's being something insolent with him, he drew his sword, and wounded two or three of them. Since he had only one Page with him, since there was above twenty Soldiers there, and since many people of the Town at the end of this Bridge compassing him about, he was arrested, after he had wounded many of them, and afterwards was carried to the Castle I speak of.  
As soon as he who commanded it did look upon him, he knew that he had seen him in the Army under the name of Philidespes, at the same time when Cyrus under the name of Artamenes got victory upon victory in the Wars then against the Kings of Pontus and Phrygia: So that this man considering the importance of his Prisoner, did look very carefully to him, and acquainted Arsamones, who no sooner knew it but he came presently from Heraclea, to the place I mentioned before, to the end he might the better dive into the design which the King of Assyria might have in coming into Bythinia: But being a Prince who never used to impart his thoughts, unless there was an absolute necessity for it, he kept this intelligence very close: so that though the Village where the Court was, was within fifty furlongs from this Castle, yet we knew not who was in it, nor why we were there.  
In the mean time, since Arsamones was concerned in all the harsh usage of the Assyrian King heretofore unto Intaphernes and Istrina, he should not have any great disposition to treat this Prince very well: Yet since the rule of all his actions was only his own interest, he never had any Friend with whom he would not break, if it would be advantageous for him; nor ever had he any Enemy unto whom he would not reconcile himself upon the same reason: so that having this Prince in his power, he considered what use might be made of him. Then he apprehended, that when Cyrus had released you Madam, his desires of bringing all Asia into subjection, would move him to make War upon himself, and the Princess Araminta would prompt him to it; for he knew not yet how the Prince Phruartes had carried her away.  
Arsamones then, considering all these things, he thought fit to give the valour of Cyrus some employment, and to make unto himself an Ally, so brave and courageous as the King of Assyria was. Then his design was, to propound unto him a marriage with the Princess Istrina; and for the better acceptance, he offered to kindle a Rebellion in Babylon, by some correspondencies which he had there, and to join with him against all his Enemies: For knowing very well that Gadates was very zealous for this Match; and seeing there was no hopes for Spitridates, he thought it would not be a hard matter to bring Istrina unto obedience. Moreover, since he had indeed discovered that Intaphernes was in Love with the Princess his Daughter, his plot was to give her unto him, upon condition he would move Istrina to marry the King of Assyria: And upon that condition, he would solemnly declare, that Spitridates should never be King either of Pontus or Bythinia.  
And in order to this, he sent Atergatis unto Chalcedonia, under a pretence of some popular stirs there, which indeed were already appeased, to the end his presence might be no obstacle to his design. Atergatis then was no sooner gone, but Arsamones went to see the King of Assyria, whom he treated with as high Civilities, as if he were upon his own Throne.  
But Madam, I cannot tell whether I ought to go on with my relation, and whether you will think good I should speak so particularly of a Prince's love, who hath been a cause of your many miseries: Yet the King of Assyria's business is so intertwisted with the history of Intaphernes, Atergatis, Istrina, and the Princess of Bythinia, as I cannot relate the one without the other.  
Since they are inseparable, replied Mandana, I had rather hear you speak of a Prince whom I do not love, than not to know the sequel of their Adventures whom I do infinitely esteem. Besides, you know, that sometimes one may be as inquisitive of the actions of an Enemy, as of Friends: Therefore Orcames, I pray tell me all the passages in Bythinia, as if I had not interest in them, and as if I did not hate the King of Assyria; Upon this command Orcames went on with his relatiou.  
Arsamones then being with the King of Assyria, and treating him, as I told you, with all possible Civilities, did at first condole his misfortunes, and after many obliging expressions, told him, that it should only be long of himself, if he were not more happy: Then he offered to cause a Revolt in Babylon, to give him a considerable Army: And that he would join inseparably with him to oppose the Conquests of Cyrus, provided he would marry Istrina as the Queen Nitocris wished. As soon as Arsamones had done speaking, the King of Assyria did sharply answer, that he would most willingly accept of his Proposition without the Condition annexed to it, butotherwise he could never think of it: For indeed, said he unto him, since I could not love Istrina at a time when I was in Love with none; Certainly I can never love her now, when I am in love with the fairest and most divine Princess that ever lived: Therefore never offer me such a thing as I cannot accept of, but let me go and seek out the King of Pontus who hath ravished away the Princess whom I adore, and that I may gratify you for my liberty, by ridding you of an Enemy who will be a perpetual thorn in the Crowns that you have conquered. Since Cyrus seeks him with a hundred thousand men (replied Arsamones) it is probable he will find him before you Sir. Therefore I beseech you, let not that be any hindrance unto your acceptance of this advantageous Proposition.  
The King of Assyria hearing Arsamones say so, did think he jeered at him, and began to be angry: And Arsamones being as violent as he, this Conversation which began with Civilities was like to end with Injuries. Yet the King of Bythinia thought his design might take, and that desire of liberty might bring the King of Assyria unto his Bent: so that desiring to prepare Intaphernes for his ends, he took him aside the same night: and after he had told him how the King of Assyria was his prisoner, he began to propound the marriage of Istrina with him. Arsamones had no sooner pronounced those words, but Intaphernes being transported with some violence, How hath Sir (said he unto him) can I ever consent my Sister should ever marry a Prince who hath most injuriously affronted me, and that she should cast off one who is my intimate friend? Fie, no, Sir, it is not possible, nor do I take the heart of Istrina to be so base, as to have any such thoughts, though the King of Assyria were upon his Throne: Be not so hasty (replied Intaphernes coldly) and to let you see, that I know a way how to make you like the motion; know, that if you do persuade Istrina unto my desires, and unto what you know very well the Prince your Father desires, I will consent you shall marry my Daughter whom I know you love; upon condition notwithstanding that you promise me never to restore the Kingdom of Pontus, nor the Kingdom of Bythinia unto the unworthy Spitridates.  
This Proposition did so amaze Intaphernes, that for a time he was not able to answer: but as he was ready to reply, Arsamones left him, and said, that he saw so much turbulence in his mind, that he would not have him answer confusedly, but would give him time to consult with his ambition and his love; after which he left him in a most perplexed condition: For on the other side, he found abundance of joys in having a a possibility to enjoy the Princess whom he adored: But when he considered, that to enjoy so great a happiness, he must give his Sister unto his Enemy, betray his friend, and usurp the Dominions of a brother unto his Princess by accepting it, his Soul was in a very Hell. Nor did he believe that the Princess of Bythinia would ever marry him upon those terms, though he should promise her not to take any advantage of this declaration: for he had heard her express something which intimated as much; So that whether he considered his hatred of the Assyrian King, his friendship to Atergatis, the aversion of Istrina to the one, her inclination to the other: or whether he considered his duty to Spitridates, and the high generosity of the Bythinian Princess: he saw that Arsamones offered him a benefit which he could not enjoy upon such conditions, though he did accept of them: and consequently his sorrows were not mean.  
In the mean time, he knew not whether he should acquaint first the Princess of Bythinia, or Istrina with it: But going unto the Chamber of the Bythinian Princess, and finding them both together, he could not any longer let this vexatious secret lie lurking in his heart. You may easily conceive, Madam, how these two Princesses wondered when they heard the King of Assyria was Prisoner, and when they heard the King of Bythinias Proposition unto Intaphernes. Truth is, there wonder was so great, as they both did extremely blush, though for different reasons. But since the Princess Istrinas' heart did extremely hate the King of Assyria, and was very tender towards Atergatis, she was the first that spoke, though it was not she unto whom the Prince Intaphernes addressed his speech: Oh Heavens (said she very heartily) can Arsamones ever think of forcing me to marry the King of of Assyria; Oh, Madam (added she and looked upon the Princess of Bythinia) I beseech you pardon me if I do not obey him: It is most just I should (replied that generous Princess) since I am resolved to commit the same Crime myself: For though I do esteem the Prince Intaphernes, and have given him a higher place in my heart, than ever any had; yet I assure you, I shall never consent he should take two Kingdoms from the Prince my brother, nor be ever happy by making him miserable. However, Madam (replied Intaphernes and sighed) I beseech you honour me so far as to allow me some comfort for refusing a benefit which you will not let me accept of, and which Honour forbids me as well as my Sister, since she cannot endure to be wife unto the King of Assyria, rather than unto Atergatis: Do but acknowledge, Madam, that the generosity of your Soul is the only Impediment, and that if it were less, you could consent unto my happiness. I do acknowledge, said she and blushed, that I wish you were, but if you should be capable of desiring it by any unjust ways in lieu of wishing your happiness, I believe I should wish the contrary. But, Madam, not to consume more time in repeating the discourse of these three Illustrious Persons; It was resolved that they should write unto Atergatis to invite his return, and that in the interim, Istrina should take upon her to resist Arsamones, since Intaphernes had not power to incense a Prince who had made him such a motion as might make him happy, if some unjust Conditions were not annexed to it: But that which most troubled them was, that they could not know whether the King of Assyria had denied Arsamones; but on the contrary had cause to believe, that he had not, and that desire of liberty had altered his mind.  
In the mean time, the King of Bythinia who was ever wedded to his own will, asked Intaphernes the next morning, if he had considered upon the motion, and that Prince in order unto their resolutions, assured him, that there was so much glory to him in it, that he thought himself capable of committing Crimes rather than not accept of it: but also he was obliged to tell him, that he verily believed that the Princess Istrina would never obey him if he commanded her to marry her Enemy. To this Arsamones answered, That a Prince who knew so well how to bring two Kingdoms into subjection, knew well enough how to make Istrina obey him; so that assuring himself of that, he bent all his endeavours to persuade the King of Assyria: But all to no purpose, that Prince still telling him, that you, Madam, and you only should Reign in his heart as long▪ as he lived: that he had nothing to do with Kingdoms, that he had no need of any Army, and that he only desired his liberty, adding some expressions which denoted his extreme aversion unto Istrina and Intaphernes, of whom he spoke with intolerable scorn, as we afterwards understood by one of the Guards in his Chamber.  
Moreover, when Arsamones did one day press Intaphernes to the Declaration which he would require of him, never to restore the Kingdoms of Pontus and Bythinia unto Spitridates, he perfectly perceived notwithstanding all his handsome answers, that they did not proceed from his intentions: So that being very angry, and finding his design to be impossible, he plotted another which he thought more easy, by which he thought to be better revenged upon Spitridates, and to hinder Araminta and all her family from having any part in his Dominions, and this it was. His design was not to speak of Istrina any more unto the King of Assyria, thinking his aversion to her was chiefly his reason for not accepting his offer. However, Arsamones would have the Queen visit the imprisoned King, that she should carry the Princess her Daughter with her; And so they did, who not being able to guests at his design, were very glad to see a Prince whose Adventures were so extraordinary, and who was so much talked of over all Asia. Since you are all goodness, Madam, I hope you will give me leave without any anger to tell you, that he received these Princesses with much civility, and used many expressions which were full of spirit, full of generosity, and full of love to you: for he did most earnestly entreat them to be Mediators unto the King for his liberty, that he might go and recover yours: And the more to oblige them unto it, he fell into most high Eulogies of you. But after that, since the natural impetuosity of his honour could not longer be hid, the Queen by chance naming Intaphernes, this violent Prince fell into such an angry chafe both against him and Istrina also, and used such unjust and injurious expressions, that these two Princesses were not able to endure it, yet having no mind to quarrel with a Prince whose imprisonment seemed to them unjust, they retired, promising him their intercessions unto Arsamones for his liberty. But as soon as they were out of the Chamber, the King of Bythinia sent to tell him that he would mention Istrina no more unto him, but would offer unto him the Princess his Daughter, and two Kingdoms, that he would recover Babylon for him by help of some intelligence which he had: and assuring him that within fifteen days he would give him an Army able to resist Cyrus, if he would make War with him. Tell the King your Master (replied this Prince unto the man by whom Arsamones sent this message) that if I could cease being the Rival of Cyrus, doubtless I should become his friend: for besides all his rare Qualities worthy of my amity, I must acknowledge that I owe him myself: so that were I not his Rival I should never raise an Army to oppose him. But assure Arsamones also, that though the Princess his Daughter be full of perfections; and though I have as great a disposition to esteem her, as I have aversion unto Istrina, yet I cannot hearken unto a second Proposition with a more favourable ear then unto the first; For since I must ever be the Lover of the Princess Mandana, I can never be the Husband of the Bythinian Princess. But, Sir (replied the man) were you in any hopes of ever obtaining the love of this Princess whom you adore, I should not think it so strange, that you should refuse this Offer: But I must confess, when I consider how you have lost your Kingdom, that the Princess Mandana does not love you and that yet you should refuse two Kingdoms with one of the fairest Princess in the world; for one that hates you, my wonder is beyond my words: What ere it be (replied the King of Assyria very sharply) such are my real thoughts; and if the Empire of all Asia were offered me, with a condition not to pretend unto Mandana, I would refuse it, as I do the Kingdoms of Pontus and Bythinia: Oh Heavens (cried he) was ever any Fate like mine? Arsamones would give me two Kingdoms, and a Princess worth more then both, yet will not give me that liberty which unless he violate the Laws of Nations he cannot take from me: Is it possible that I alone should be the only man in all the Universe unto whom he can give his Kingdoms, and the Princess his Daughter? I see very well (pursued this violent Prince) that he makes choice of me before any other, because he knows that if I accept of them I shall never restore them unto the King of Pontus, or any of his family, and so the hate he bears unto his Enemies is the cause of his choice: But since his Interest alone doth prompt him unto the offer, he must not take it ill, if mine prompt me to a refusal. Tell him therefore, that if I had power not to love the Princess Mandana, and to overcome myself, I had driven her out of my heart, before they drove me out of Babylon, and that I should have conquered myself before Cyrus did overcome me: Or to express myself better, if ever I could have left loving this Princess, it would have been when she desired to do it with her eyes full of Tears: and therefore I cannot follow those motions of hatred and revenge, which induce Arsamones to make such odd Propositions unto me that I cannot accept of them upon those terms, though they seem to be very advantageous to me. Tell him then that I can be his friend, but I cannot be the Husband of the Princess his Daughter: and so he needs not urge me to no purpose unto a thing which I cannot do; for the most certain truth is, I do love and am not loved, and I am fully resolved so to do till death or fortune change my destiny. But if after all this Arsamones will wilfully keep me Prisoner, and hinder me from releasing Mandana, tell him then, that this King without a Kingdom whom he holds in his hands, and whom he thinks so weak and wanting all protection, perhaps is powerful enough to cause the ruin of his new Dominions, and make him lose those two Kingdoms which he offers me, since he hath a Rival so generous as to release him, though he be his most mortal Enemy. After this the King of Assyria made a sign with his hand unto the man, which intimated that he had no more to say, and that he should return to the King his Master, and did it with as much austere Majesty, as if he were still upon his Throne. Also he who was a witness of his violence and choler was so surprised, that after he had reported unto Arsamones, how the King of Assyria received his message, he could not keep that secret which was such a wonder to him: so as imparting it unto me, I was extremely astonished to hear that Arsamones should alter his resolution.  
In the mean time, I thought it requisite to acquaint the persons interested in this odd design: For I must confess, Madam, that as resolute as the King of Assyria's answer was, yet I thought he might change his mind. Therefore I resolved to make the state of things known unto those who might find a remedy. As I went unto Intaphernes, I found Atergatis with him, who returned sooner than expected; but returned so sad to hear that Arsamones would marry Istrina unto the King of Assyria, that Intaphernes was not able to comfort him; and as soon as he saw me he called me to help him to settle the mind of Atergatis; Alas, Sir, answered I, I am not very fit to comfort him and you also; for I assure you, when I have imparted all, the Prince Atergatis hath no other sorrows but what will be yours; for the truth is, Sir, it is not Istrina whom Arsamones would have the King of Assyria to marry, but it is the Princess of Bythinia. These were such words of wonder that both these Princes cried out: But, oh Heavens, how different were their tones, and how sad was the sound of Intaphernes his voice? Indeed, Madam, I am not able to express what I saw in the faces of these two Lovers: I saw in one minute despair to pass out of the heart of Atergatis, into that of Intaphernes; fury was quenched in the Soul of one, and kindled in the Soul of the other; I saw sorrow die in the eyes of Atergatis and revive in Intaphernes: and in an instant, I saw the Comforter become the sad man, and the sad man become the Comforter. I should abuse your patience, Madam, if I should relate unto you all their Lamentations, or how Atergatis employed the same Arguments of Consolation unto Intaphernes, which he immediately before received from him: Nor will I relate all that the Princess Istrina, and the Princess of Bythinia said, when they knew the business; for having formerly acquainted you particularly with their virtues and the innocent passions of their Souls; you may easily conceive they expressed their sorrows unto each other. However these cross adventures produced one happiness unto these two Lovers, since they obliged the Princesses whom they loved, to give them as sweet and tender Language, as if their Souls were in much more tranquillity: for doubtless there is nothing fitter to induce a person who loves to unmask affection, than misfortunes and sorrows. Whilst things were in this condition, it was known how the King of Pontus carried you, Madam, unto Cumes; And that Cyrus went to besiege it; so that this news having infused other thoughts into the mind of Arsamones, who was extremely incensed against the King of Assyria for his refusal, every one was in a strange wonder to hear that we must all return unto Heraclea: And our wonder was the greater, because he appointed (without giving any reason for it) all those only whom he had told that the King of Assyria was in his power, to keep it secret: After which all departed; this Prince, leaving so many men as he judged fit for the Guard of this Castle where the King was Prisoner, yet not daring to leave so many as he wished, lest that should be suspected which he would not have known. Since this Prince was of a very close spirit, we could not then dive into those mysteries which afterwards we knew: For indeed, Madam, it was at that time, when Arsamones to be revenged upon the King of Assyria, and to get the King of Pontus into his power, did send unto the Illustrious Cyrus this message, that if he would promise to restore the King of Pontus into his hands when he had taken Cumes, he in exchange would restore the King of Assyria into his power. But as you know, Madam, the Illustrious Cyrus having received a Letter from this Captive King, he took a more heroic Resolution, and denied Arsamones.  
In the mean time, Intaphernes and Atergatis were not at all happy: for Arsamones leaving Arbiana & the Princesses at Heraclea, he carried them unto Cabyra, where he grew so melancholy (when upon the return of his Messenger, and the Arrival of Hidaspes he heard of the generosity of Cyrus) that he fell sick there: yet he would not let the Queen bring the Princesses with her, when she came, but commanded her to leave them at Heraclea; for his soul was in such a fury, that he could not endure Intaphernes, or Atergatis should have so much comfort as to see the Princesses whom they loved.  
In the mean time, his sickness continued so long, that it did facilitate the liberty of the Assyrian King. For though they told him that Hidaspes when he departed was gone into Galatia, and Cappadocia; And that he drew out of all his Garrisons unto a body, he could not believe that Cyrus had commanded him to attempt the delivering of his Enemy by force: but rather imagined, that it was to recruite the Army, than out of any desire of his Rival's liberty. So that his Policy being caused to sleep by the violence of his sickness, he gave Hidaspes time to surprise the Castle where the King of Assyria was, and to deliver that Prince. 'tis true, that Intaphernes and Atergatis were so afraid, lest the fancy should take Arsamones to make him either marry Istrina, or the Bythinian Princess, they were not very forward in giving any advice for his security: and though they did most horridly hate the King of Assyria, yet they wished his liberty; And they were as much joyed, as Arsamones was angered, when the news of his surprisal was brought to Cabyra: Insomuch as Intaphernes not being able to hide his joys, this violent Prince suspected, that he gave intelligence unto Hidaspes to surprise the Castle: and his suspicions of it were the greater, when he knew that the Prince Gadates had writ a Letter unto him, which he had not showed, because it appointed him to come hither; and Intaphernes not being able to be at such a distance from the Princess of Bythinia, would not let Arsamones see it, lest he should move him to obey Gadates sooner than he had a desire. However, though this Prince was innocent of that the King of Bythinia did accuse him, yet he was held guilty, upon bare Conjectures, and banished, not only from the Court, but also out of all his Dominions. Arbiana did what she could to appease him, but all in vain, for Arsamones would set no term when Intaphernes should return into his Dominions; but when he brought with him, either the King of Pontus, or Araminta, or Spitridates. You may easily imagine, Madam, how sad the Prince was, who after a thousand good Services done unto Arsamones, was treated with such Ingratitude and Injustice. Intaphernes out of a resentment of honour, had a good mind to ask leave he might carry Istrina with him; but conceiving it would be more for his advantage that he should remain with the Princess whom he loved, he rejected that thought. However, obey he must, because he could not help it, and the willinger, because the Princess of Bythinia commanded him: yet in spite of Arsamones, he had the satisfaction to bid her adieu; for since she was at Heraclea, he went out of Cabyra in a disguise thither, and saw her, in the presence of Istrina, of Atergatis who followed him, and of myself. I need not, Madam, make any relation of what these persons did say, the thoughts of whose hearts were so full of tenderness: But I assure you, that never was any love or friendship, so fluent in sweet and passionate expressions, as theirs, when they expressed their sorrows to part from each other, and to part not knowing when they should be so happy as to meet again. The Princess of Bythinia Protested unto Intaphernes, never to be any'es if she were not his. And Atergatis being to lose his Advocate unto Istrina, desired him to press that Princess in his presence unto a Profession never to chase him from her heart. Istrina and Atergatis then made new Protestations of amity unto each other, as well as Intaphernes and Atergatis, so as they tied themselves unto each other by such knots, as I am most confident are indissolvable. But, Madam, depart he must, and indeed I parted with him, to come unto that place where Gadates had so long desired him; But hearing that Cumes was taken, and that you, Madam, were upon your March we changed our way, with intention to meet you upon the Rode.  
In the mean time, as the Gods are the only disposers of all Events, so the Prince Intaphernes using to ride alone, that he might the better contemplate upon his Passion, he lost his way in a wild Forest, having none with him but only one Page: For though I used to keep him company in such solitudes, yet I was not then with him, but stayed behind with one of his men, and telling him how extremely afraid I was to meet with the King of Assyria, when we came to you. But whilst I was in fear that Intaphernes might meet with this Prince, the Gods who do not use to comply always with the wills of men, but often mock at all humane Prudence, did conduct Intaphernes unto the banks of that little River, where the Assyrian King was taking the Air, whilst you, Madam, was in the Temple; and staying in the pleasant place until the hour of your setting out. I understand since by the Page which followed Intaphernes, and by Intaphernes himself, all the passages of this meeting: And since I understand by Martesia that you, Madam, do not know it, but desires infotmation, I shall acquaint you with the particulars; and if I should conceal an Action so gallant and noble, I should not make a perfect relation of Intaphernes his life. Be pleased to know then, Madam, that this Prince riding safely along the banks of this little River, hoping still to meet with us again, lest he should be forced to arrive at a place where he thought you was, without any Train or Equipage; Love did so take up all the faculties of his Soul, that he scarcely knew what he did, or saw. On the other side, the King of Assyria who seemed as deep in contemplation as Intaphernes, though according to his natural impetuosity he went as fast as if he had a great journey to go, he was also on the banks of this River, with one Page only; So as Intaphernes came towards the King of Assyria, as the King of Assyria came towards Intaphernes: who being both of them in deep studies, they passed so near each other, that there Horses starting at the same time made both of them think themselves assaulted; So that rousing out of their studies, and stopping their Horses, they looked sternly upon each other, to know who it was that assaulted them: and both knowing each other, the King of Assyria he thought that Intaphernes intended to all upon him, as Intaphernes thought that the King of Assyria intended to put a new affront upon him: So as both being high in anger, they first looked upon one another as men who had dispositions to quarrel. Yet Intaphernes gave him a Salute, but it was with so many signs of indignation, that his respects did not diminish the King of Assyria's fury: For as soon as Intaphernes had saluted him, he went two paces back, and began to speak in a haughty and proud tone: For ought I see (said he in a most scornful manner) you are as insolent here, as you were ambitious in Babylon, and it seems also that you have been most unjust in Bythinia, in being so bold as to cause Arsamones to imprison me, purposely to make me marry one, whom I do not think worthy to be the slave of whom I adore. Oh Sir, (said Intaphernes) you extremely wrong me, do not urge me against my will to forget I have seen you upon a Throne, lest I should not brook it: For, Sir, hitherto I never failed in my due respects unto you; I was never more ambitious at Babylon then did become me, and was so far from forcing you to marry my Sister, that I must tell you, that she did more resist Arsamones, than you did, not being so base as ever to think of being Wife unto a Prince, who hath so much scorned her, and wronged me. Therefore, Sir, I beseech you, with all the Reverence I owe unto you, as Son unto the Queen Nitocris, do not force me to cast of all those respects: I cannot tell what thou meanest (replied the King of Assyria sharply) but I am sure I cannot brook the insolency of a Subject, whose duty is to reverence me as much in my Fetters as if I were upon the Throne. Upon these words the King of Assyria drawing his Sword he forced Intaphernes to draw his also, but it was only at first to defend himself from the King of Assyria's blows: And indeed, this generous Prince striving to overcome his resentments did recoil some paces in defending himself; and speaking again, in the name of the Gods, Sir, (said he unto him) do not urge me any further, for my patience can hold no longer: wish only that thy Valour may hold out (replied the King of Assyria, in pressing harder upon him) unless thou wilt feel the sharpness of mine. After this, Madam, Intaphernes being not able to endure any longer, he did not only fight in defence of his life, but also to revenge himself. And his Page told me of such Prodigies which he did, which are not to be conceived unless one had seen them. For indeed, Madam, though the King of Assyria had fought with the Illustrious Cyrus, and yourself, Madam, had been the Prize of the Combat, yet this violent Prince could not have fought with more Courage. But as Intaphernes had all the sincerity of a most brave man, so he told all those unto whom he related the passage, that if the King of Assyria had stood any thing upon his Guard, he should have found a hard task to have vanquished him: and his modesty made him say, that if that valiant Prince had not precipitated himself unto his Arms, in striving to finish the Combat quickly, he had not been overcome. Indeed, Madam, the King of Assyria having wounded himself in striving to gain the Crupper, his Sword being broke, and he run through the right arm with a touch from his Enemy, his great heart was constrained to yield. Yet Intaphernes would not abuse his Victory, by insulting over his unfortunate Enemy, as unjust as he was. But on the contrary, he used many generous expressions; he asked him whether he would be pleased that he should conduct him, offering to hold him up, seeing he was not able to sit on horseback: but this furious Prince would have only his Page to help him; he forbade Intaphernes to come near him, and commanded him to retire. Since thou art still my Subject, though my Conqueror (said this violent Prince unto him) I command the to get out of my Presence, for I cannot any longer endure a man who hath ruined all my hopes, subverted all my designs, and hath retarded either my death or my happiness. These ambiguous words which Intaphernes could not understand, moving him to think that his sorrows for being overcome did distract the liberty of his mind; he began to pity him, and offer again to help him, but he fell into such a Chafe, that Intaphernes seeing some Soldiers a far off coming that way, he was forced to retire.  
In the mean time, in lieu of going unto the Castle where you, Madam, were, he returned back, being resolved not to present himself unto you, Madam, nor unto Cyrus, nor unto the Prince his Father until you were on your march: Conceiving that the King of Assyria was in such a condition as he would not be able to follow. And indeed, Madam, this Prince having happily met with us, some four Furlongs from the place where he fought, we went to wait upon you, Madam, at the house where you stayed, and where the Prince Intarhernes had the honour to be presented unto you that night, by the Illustrious Cyrus.  
Orcames having ended his Relation, Mandana thanked him for the pains which he had taken in satisfying her desires, and to testify how attentive she had been, she repeated the principal passages which he had related: But since the last words of the Assyrian King had made some impression in the mind of Mandana, she asked Doralisa what she thought was the meaning of those words, that Intaphernes by vanquishing the King of Assyria, he had ruined all his hopes, subverted all his designs, and had retarded either his death or his happiness: For truly (added he) as the state of things stand, it is not easy to conceive what in any reason he could hope for, nor what designs he could have which might be advantageous unto him; Nor could he fear any death from a Rival who released him, nor could he ever imagine any happiness from me: And yet it is to be supposed, that he spoke not these without some cause. I assure you, Madam, replied Doralisa, to be so brave, so glorious, so violent, and so deep in love as the King of Assyria is, and to be vanquished within a hundred Furlongs of his Rival, and of his Mistress, is enough to make him not know wha the said: and therefore there is no heed to be taken unto what he said. Whilst Doralisa was saying so, Martesia was silent, though since she knew of the engagement between those two Princes, she understood those words better than they: yet since the King of Assyria was to stay behind, and since in such a condition as was not to be feared, she seemed as if she did not understand them: And the Princess herself concurring with the opinion of Doralisa, did make no further reflection upon them, but went on with her repetition of the Adventures of Atergatis, Istrina, and Intaphernes. After which, all the rest of the Conversation was only of pleasant and diverting passages, of which the poor Berisa was the subject; For upon good examination of what Orcames had said, the Princess Mandana did conclude that there was no Court in the world without a Berisa, and sometimes many Berisa's: being sure she knew some at Themiscira and at Sinope. Doralisa for her part, she knew some at Sardis, Pherenice remembered many at Suta, and Orcames professed he knew above a dozen at Babylon. After all which, the Princess remembering how it was resolved to be stirring betimes in the morning, she dismissed Orcames and retired, preserving her fidelity so entirely for Cyrus, that she would not so much as call unto her memory, any thing she heard of the Assyrian King: but her mind being clear from all manner of Objects, she slept as quietly as one that had no manner of causes to fear any thing.   
The end of the first BOOK.   

ARTAMENES: Or The Grand CYRUS. THE EIGHTH PART, AND SECOND BOOK.  
WHILST the Princess Mandana's sleep was not troubled with with any affrighting Dreams; and whilst the huge multitude of Troops which conducted her, did rest themselves from the travels of the day, during the dark shades of night: Whilst sleep, I say, like Death doth equal Kings & Beggars happy and unhappy, and refresh all, Cyrus, Mazares, and Anaxaris could not submit unto one wink of sleep, but employed every minute in thoughts of Mandana. Not that Cyrus, as the state of things stood, was at all perplexed, but was all hopes and delights: yet those delights which proceeded from his hopes, were tempered with some perplexities, which interrupted his joys: Not that his courageous soul was troubled at the Combat he was to have with the King of Assyria, before he enjoyed Mandana; but the truth is, he was so little accustomed to happiness, that he could not believe he was at the end of his misfortunes: so as not directly knowing what was the obstacle unto his satisfaction, his heart resented some resistance of those joys which in reason he might hope for. But though the illustrious Cyrus was troubled with a pensiveness of which he was ignorant of the cause; yet it was not so with the Prince Mazares, who being always to strive with himself, was every minute in fears, lest his virtue should be vanquished by his Love. Anaxaris was much more miserable than he; for his Passion was so violent and high, that his reason did absolutely submit unto its Empire: and it may be truly said that Mandana did not more sovereignly reign over the heart of Anaxaris, than the Passion of Anaxaris did tyrannically reign over his reason and virtue: Yet he was not so stark blind, but he knew very well that a thousand reasons did invite him to be the friend of Cyrus, and not his Rival: But for all that, when he saw it to be an absolute impossibility for him to leave loving Mandana, he thought himself justified, and believed that whatsoever his love inspired him with, were no Crimes. However, though he did never take so much pains as to strive with himself, yet was he far from being happy: For by abandoning his soul unto his passion, he knew very well, that considering the state of things, he abandoned himself unto all imaginable torments: however love Mandana he must, and ever would. But the oddest thing was, that still he hoped against all manner of reasons to hope; and though he knew very well, that his hope had no foundation. Yet to find some ease unto his sick soul, he endeavoured to make some intimate friend; not that upon second and serious thoughts he intended to trust him with his secret thoughts which he conceived not impartable unto any, but yet he would have one unto whom he might impart them if any need were; and in order unto that, he tampered and prepared the mind of Andramites. And since there is no surer way then to keep the secrets of others, before he trust any with his own, he did insensibly engage Andramites to unfold all his thoughts, and contracted such an intimate League of friendship with him, that a greater correspondency could not have been if they had been all their lives well acquainted with each other.  
Anaxaris carried the matter so handsomely, that by degrees he became Master of all the secrets in the soul of Andramites, without hazarding his own, or without giving Andramites any cause to suspect that he had any which he ought not to impart unto him. But whilst Cyrus, Mazares, and Anaxaris had such different thoughts caused by one and the same passion, there was a strange curiosity in the minds of Mandana, Martesia, Chrisantes, and Feraulas, to know in what state was the King of Assyria. The Princess Mandana durst not inquire, but Martesia asked every one how he did.  
On the other side, Mazares and Anaxaris did very carefully inquire of him especially the last of these, so as if this Prince had been an intimate friend unto all his Rivals; The deliverer of Mandana, and the Protector of Martesia, Chrisantes and Feraulas, they could not have been more desirous to know the state of his wounds, than they were; but as inquisitive as they were, yet they could not know any more than what pleased Cyrus to impart; because those whom he left with the King of Assyria did give an account only to him: so that since Cyrus gave it out he was very ill, they knew no other.  
In the mean time, this journey being a journey of jollity and victory, Cyrus did not only give order that Mandana should not be distasted at any thing, but contrived all way possible to please and divert her in her journey: so as if Mandana to rest herself in any Town, did stay a day there, the day was employed in seeing all that was remarkable in the place. The Ladies all assembled, they feasted, they danced, they had races, and Cyrus carried Mandana unto no places of his Conquest, but he presented the sweet fruits of his victories unto her, so that betwixt Cumes and Ecbatan, seemed to be but one continual triumph. And the truth is, the people were so fully persuaded of the virtues in Cyrus, that nothing but universal acclamations were to be heard in all places where he came. Also he had an extraordinary care, that the march of his Troops should not do the least injury unto the Country: And it may be most truly said that he came unto no place during all this voyage, where he had not signalised some one of his virtues: For in one Town, he had left testimonies of his humanity in cheering up the people; in an another, he made his Justice to appear, in punishing some insolent Soldiers; In a hundred places he had left glorious marks of his liberality, according as occasions presented themselves: And in what place soever he came, he was always himself, which was, always incomparable.  
As for Mandana, she gave several testimonies of her Piety during this Journey, by re-edifying ruined Temples, and giving them new foundations according to the people's Petitions: And it is most certain that Cyrus and Mandana passed not a day without some excellent work of goodness. The Prince Intaphernes was such an admirer of their virtues, that he could speak of nothing else, when he talked with the Prince Artamas, with Myrsiles, Mazares, Anaxaris, or any else. And there chanced one adventure which gave him further subject of talk: For Cyrus desiring that Mandana should go but a very little journey that day, by reason of convenient Lodging, she came unto a place, which afforded Intaphernes a subject of Compassion, and to talk further of her virtue. Cyrus then having resolved that the Princess should lie in a little Town upon the Road, not far from the place where she lodged before, it was so long before she set out, that she came as late to her Lodging, as if her journey had been longer, yet she came time enough to observe the extraordinary delighfull, and odd situation of this Village where she was to lie: She saw as she came unto it, that she was sometimes high and sometimes low, sometimes on a mountain, and sometimes in a valley, and between Rocks. Moreover she saw there an ancient and stately Castle standing upon the point of a Rock, whose prospect was towards a Forest: over against it, she saw three great deep valleys, environed with Rocks, into which they descended by a winding path in the Rocks: And to make the place more pleasant and extraordinary, there was to be seen at the foot of a hill, and on the side of a Torrent, 2. stately Tombs, the one built after the Egyptian, the other after the Grecian mode: So as the Sun setting that Evening without any cloudy umbrage, it might almost be said that the Sunbeams did gild the whole Country, and made it the more delectable.  
This magnificent object did make a deep impression in the mind of Mandana, so as when she arrived at this great Castle where she was to lodge, she talked upon nothing else, enquiring very earnestly whose were those Tombs which she saw as she passed, and why one was built after the Egyptian manner, and the other the Grecian. The questions you ask Madam (replied the Master of the Castle, whose name was Eucrates, a man well in years, of a good spirit, and much traveled) is questionless worthy of your curiosity; for the truth is, Love was a cause of their foundation as well as Death; it being most certain, that if he who caused them to be built had not been in Love, they had never adorned the Country about this Castle. The Princess Mandana hearing the old man say so, was fuller of curiosity then before: so as pressing him to tell her all he knew, he related unto her in few words, how a man of quality and high merits, called Menesteus, descended from the race of the first Phocensians, who left Phocides to go and build Phoceus which the Prince Thrasibalus had taken, being resolved to travel after he had lost his Wife, who left him one Son and one Daughter, he came into Egypt, where he fell desperately in love with a Lady of Heliopolis, whom he with her consent did carry away: That after this passing through Asia, he came unto this Castle, where this fair Egyptian died within four days after he came thither, and from whence he would not depart, but built this stately Tomb after the mode of the Country; and since Menesteus would never forsake her who had followed his fortunes, and left her own Country for the love of him, he built his own Tomb near hers, which is also his house where he waits for death to finish his days.  
How (said Mandana, and interrupted him) does he live yet, who caused these two Tombs to be built? and lives he in that which is built after the Grecian work? Yes Madam, replied he, but it is in such a manner as deserves compassion; It may be said, he lives dying, for he spends whole days in the Tomb of her he lost, and never comes in his own but at such hours when sleep forces him to take truce with his sorrows: so as I assure you, Death and Love together did never make such an emblem of despair, as Menesteus. Yet one would say, that the Gods take delight in his sufferings, and lets him live, to pay an eternal tribute of sighs and tears unto his lost Lady; for he has already lived above eight years in this mournful manner, and yet cannot die. I wonder (said Mandana then) that since he is of so good a Quality, his friends and neighbours have not forced him to change his heartless habitation. I assure you Madam, replied Eucrates, that the illustrious Peranius his son (who should be Prince of Phoceus after him, if the Armies of the invincible Cyrus had not conquered his dominions) has done all he was able, to move Menesteus unto a change of his living, but could never persuade him: All he could obtain, was, to let two servants stay in a house next his Tomb, to bring him once a day only such things as were of absolute necessity.  
At the name of Peranius, Cyrus who was then present, began to rub up his memory a little, and afterwards he began to speak; Is this Peranius you speak of (said he unto Eucrates) Nephew unto the Prince of Phoceus, whom I understand by Thrasibalus, to be one of the bravest men in the world? Yes Sir, replied he, it is the same Peranius, a sister's son of the Phocean Prince, who rather than submit, when the Prince his Uncle, and Alexidesmus forsook him, did persuade all the Inhabitants of his Town to leave their Country, to embark and acknowledge him for their Head, and to go conquer others, rather than be the slaves of Thrasibalus, or to say better, yours Sir, since it was by your Arms that Prince did wage his War. To testify, that he need not fear, replied Cyrus, that I shall load so brave a man as he with over-heavy fetters, I will tomorrow visit the Prince his Father, to let him know, that he who honours the very Tombs of virtuous men, does honour the men themselves, though fortune have made them slaves. When Cyrus said so, and this old man heard Mandana say so also, he told them that they would augment his sorrows by their presence: adding also to keep them from going, that the way unto these Tombs was so rough by reason of the Rocks and a Torrent, that they could hardly pass: But when he saw that all would not dissuade them, he was silent and retired.  
However, since Mandanas' Chamber did open towards these Tombs, she was no sooner up, but these stately objects putting her in memory of her design, she was more earnest upon it: so that sending unto Cyrus to put him in mind of his last night's resolution, that Prince came and told that he was so mindful of it, as he had already sent to see whether the way unto these Tombs were so difficult, and that he was told the way was so good, as she might go in her Coach, so that without more ado she went: But Cyrus being a reverencer of Love wheresoever he found it, except in the hearts of his Rivals, he was so considerate of Menesteus, as that he would not too much disturb his solitude by too great a company; therefore he permitted only Mazares, Intaphernes, and Aglatidas to accompany him: And as for Mandana, she admitted only of Doralisa, Martesia, Anaxaris, and some few of her Guard.  
This small company being conducted by Eucrates (though the night before he had no desire to be their Convoy) they came to these Tombs, the one whereof was much more stately than the other. That which was built after the Grecian manner, was a most admirable structure, but had fewer ornaments then that which was after the Egyptian, whose Architecture was very regular: Indeed, though the Pyramid of this Tomb was but of a mean greatness, yet for its beauty it was comparable unto the Pyramids of Memphis: Its form was triangular, and so excellently well wrought, that the best eyes could not see one joint in the whole work▪ A thousand Curiosities of branched works did adorn the Fabric, and one might perceive Hierogliphique Characters, which expressed unto such as beheld, & could understand them, the beauty of the Person whom they represented, and the love of the Founder.  
Upon the top of this Pyramid was a figure of that Corinthian Copper, which was no less prized in those times, then since the burning of the proud Town. So that this Statue did represent Fame, and turned upon a hinge according to the winds, one would have said, that it was set upon this Pyramid with a Trumpet in its mouth, only to declare unto the world the death of that beauty for whom this Tomb was built; this Trumpet being made so artificially, that when the wind did blow, it sent forth a sad kind of sighing sound, full of sorrows. This Fame had her wings displayed as if she were ready to fly: The skirts of her Garment was waved by the wind, so as unbaring part of her thighs this gave a good grace unto the Statue, and seemed to be more loose from the point of the Pyramid, whose stately basis was the Tomb of that illustrious Beauty, whom this renowned Mourner did so lament.  
As for that of Menesteus, it was built after the manner of a house, the Roof sustained by twelve Columns betwixt which upon the Freeze, and under the Cornish these words were engraven in Greek characters, 
 Love and Death did build me. 
  
WHen Cyrus and Mandana came near these Tombs, they saw Menesteus coming to meet them, being advertised of their coming by Eucrates; But he met them in an Air so sad and languishing, as made it apparent, that Time had not worn out the resentment of his loss, yet for all that he retained a high and noble presence: His clothes were mean, but handsome and fit: And this solitary mourner seemed rather a melancholy Philosopher, than a desperate Lover.  
As soon as he came so near Cyrus (who led Mandana) as to be understood, I give thanks unto the Gods (said he unto him) that the beauty of that admirable Princess whom I see, hath taught the Conqueror of Asia to reverence the Tombs of those whom Love hath brought under his Dominions; and that in lieu of fearing the Ravages of a victorious Army, I am driven to the necessity of thanking the Conqueror for the favour he doth me in honouring the Ashes of a most illustrious person by his presence. My aims are, replied Cyrus, not only to honour the dead, but this Princess and I both; are come hither to honour an illustrious living person also, whom I wish I were able to persuade out of this solitary Tomb in which he inhabits. For my particular (added Mandana) I should be extremely joyed, if I were able to persuade you Sir unto some moderation in so violent and long a sorrow as yours is: Since you can never know the cause (replied Menesteus) I do not wonder Madam, you should not think my misery incurable. However I think myself most sensibly obliged unto your charitable generosity in wishing me capable of consolation. After this, Menesteus fearing lest the Sun should offend the Princess Mandana, did open a door which conducted into a most stately Gallery.  
As soon as Mandana and Cyrus were entered into this Tomb, they were forced to say, that the love of him who built it was great and high: The truth is, this Tomb was so richly adorned, that a place destinied for the greatest Feasts could not be more magnificent: there was in the midst of it a Sepulchre of incorruptible wood, inlaid with gold in a most rich and inestimable manner; and to let it be known, that the Corpse which was there interred had been the star of Beauty in Heliopolis, upon this Sepulchre was to be seen a S●n represented by several glistering Diamonds & Rubies, whose glorious colours made it seem the Sun itself when it was setting, and lending its light unto the other half of the world.  
About this Sepulchre was placed twelve young Cupids excellently represented, who all with one of their hands seemed to wipe away their Tears, and with the other held up rich pots of Perfumes, no Garden full of Jessamon and Orange's comparable unto these which Art only composed. Moreover, there did hang in the top of the vault a hundred Crystal Lamps, in such order and proportion, as did make appear between every pillar which sustained the Roof twelve stately seats, on which might be seen the statues of twelve women which seemed to weep and lament the loss of her for whom the Tomb was made; and which by their several aspects and emblems did represent some of her virtues for whom they mourned: The Engraver having given to every Statue such lively emblems of each virtue, as the dullest capacity could not choose but know his meaning. Mandana could not choose but admire the excellency of the work, and confessed that there must needs be something that was high in the heart of so faithful a Lover as Menesteus. As for Cyrus, after he had sufficiently admired at every thing that was worthy of wonder, he began to consider very seriously this mourning Lover, who as soon as he came into the Monument, was so wholly devoted to his sorrows, that without almost any regard either of Cyrus or Mandana, or any of their company, began to fix his looks sadly upon the Sepulchre, sighing continually with unutterable bitterness of soul. The beauty of Mandana reviving in his mind the Idea of his lost Lady, did renew his melancholy: And Cyrus admiring the sorrows of Menesteus more than his Tomb, did look most attentively upon him: his violent affection unto Mandana did make him most sensible of such a loss as to lose her one loves so, as he had a disposition rather to commend the despair of Menesteus, then to blame him. But whilst Menesteus was sighing, and Cyrus was sadly looking upon him, Mandana went towards the Sepulchre to read some inscription which was written in golden Letters; and finding them to be Egyptian Characters, she called Cyrus to interpret them: so that when that Prince came to her, he told her, how the love of Menesteus had caused those Letters to be written; but as he was going from one end of the Sepulchre unto the other, he found a very rich Table-book upon which was written in great Characters, and the Capadocian language, 
 To the Princess Mandana. 
  
CYrus no sooner saw this, but he blushed; for he no sooner looked upon the Characters, but he thought it to be the hand of the Pontean King: so as in the tumult of his mind he had certainly concealed it from Mandana, if that Princess seeing through his eyes the agitation of his soul, had not at the same time seen that which caused it: so as Cyrus perceiving by the Roses that blushed in the cheeks of Mandana, that she saw them as well as he, he presented them unto her. Since Madam, said he unto her, it is to you this Table-book is directed, therefore it belongs unto you; but whilst you are perusing it, I beseech you give me leave to ask Menesteus where he is at this present who writ this which I now present unto you.  
The Princess Mandana being as much astonished as Cyrus, desired him to read it as well as she: so that opening it, they began to read it whilst Menesteus took no notice of them: but the truth is, it was not only his sorrows that hindered his observance: For since Doralisa could not think so long a solitude & sorrow could be without some distraction of spirit, she began to talk with him, and had engaged in discourse, the Prince Intaphernes and Aglatidas with Eucrates and Martefia: As for Mazares, this Tomb calling into his memory his solitary life which he led in a Grott when he thought Mandana dead, he was taken up enough with his own thoughts, without discourse with others. And for Anaxaris, his thoughts were as much busied as Mazares: so that Cyrus and Mandana reading the King of Pontus his Letter, they found these words.  
MADAM,  
IT is too much, extremely too much, to pursue me even to a very Tomb, and to drive me from a Sanctuary, which all Laws both divine and humane would have inviolable: but since it is your pleasure, it must be so; Could I have hoped to have seen you here without that happy Rival in your company, I should have stayed here and assumed the glory to express my sorrows and my love. But since it is enough for you to triumph in my heart without him, I must shun you, that I may shun him, since it is not possible for me to do otherwise, though I owe him both my life and my liberty. Yet I do conjure him (if it be lawful to entreat a Rival, and if I may do it with due reverence to you) not to expose himself unto any pity, if you be not capable of any; Considering that after I have lost two Kingdoms for the love of you only, yet you drive me from a Tomb where I intended to inhabit with the most faithful Lover in the world. I beseech you Madam, oblige my Rival neither to follow me, nor to search for me; and the better to induce him, put him in memory, that if I had not had the good fortune to save you from the enraged waves, he had never had the glory to be at this day favourably looked upon: But alas my sorrows make me wander; for after all the rigour, I think it had been better for me to have writ unto my Rival to obtain a favour from you, then to have writ unto you to obtain any thing from him; However it be Madam, though you should cause me to be searched for, to wait upon the Chariot of my Enemy, yet you should be frustrated, since whosoever is Master of his sword, is also Master of his life and liberty. I ask nothing else of you Madam, but only to believe, that if I do live, it is not in any intentions to comfort myself, or to leave loving you: For I do protest, that as long as I do live, I shall maintain against all my Rivals, that there is not one of them which loves you with more zeal and reverence than I do, as rigorous and inexorable as you are unto me.  
The King of Pontus.  
AFter the reading of this Letter, which was so sad as deserved to be read without any anger; Cyrus scarcely daring to look upon Mandana, lest he should see some compassion in her eyes, he spoke the first. To spare my sorrows Madam (said he unto her) that you should ask me a favour for such a Rival as the King of Pontus, I will prevent your ask, and tell you that as the state of things do stand, I freely consent that a King who hath had the misfortune to lose two Kingdoms, and you also, shall not be so miserable as fall into the power of his Enemy, an Enemy unto whom he thinks himself a little obliged: Yet Madam, I must needs ask you leave to inquire of Menesteus how the Prince came hither? Though I should not for your sake (replied Mandana) yet for my own, I desire you to ask him: Since I assure you, the adventure doth augment both my curiosity and trouble; For when I consider how it was near the Tomb of Abradates that you met the King of Assyria: And that you were very near meeting with the King of Pontus in the Tomb of this fair Egyptian, I do almost believe I shall find persecutors in Ecbatan, when I am there: so they have no greater power to hurt you Madam (replied Cyrus) than the King of Pontus hath, you need not fear their violence.  
After this Mandana went to Menesteus, unto whom she showed the Letter which Cyrus found upon the Sepulchre, and asked him where he was which did write it, and whether he knew him well? Menesteus was at first surprised to see this Letter, which he knew to be upon the Monument; but coming presently on't of his astonishment, and being not determined what to answer; I assure you Madam, replied he, I thought him who left this Letter in this Tomb, to be one of the most sad, the most noble, and the most virtuous men in the world. But Madam, ask me no more, for I neither know his quality, nor the cause of his sadness, nor where he is at this present; And though I did know, yet I think when you know how he made me promise not to discover him, you are so generous as to press me no further: Cyrus perceiving by the speeches of Menesteus, that he apprehended no design of any violence for giving harbour, did engage his word, that though he whom he had harboured were now in the Tomb, yet there should no hurt be done unto him: So as Eucrates hearing what Cyrus said, came nearer, and not staying for the answer of Menesteus, Sir (said he unto him) Since it was myself who made this Illustrious Stranger known unto Menesteus, so I thing it fit, it should be myself who should tell you all I know, which yet will satisfy you little more, than what he hath already told you. For truly, Sir, all I can tell you of him whose name I know not, is this, that about eight days since, according to the Laws of hospitality which are inviolably observed in this Country, he came unto this Castle, which hath the honour to lodge you at this present, and demanded of me entertainment; for being then very ill, as still he is, he found himself unable to continue his journey: he had with him only one man, which seemed more like a common Soldier, than any Gentleman, and he seemed to me to be so sad, that I joyfully consented unto his desire, giving thanks unto the Gods for an occasion of assisting a man so handsome as he, and who seemed so extremely grieved. So that lodging him as conveniently as I could, he looked out of his window, and seeing these two Tombs, he asked me whose they were? And I think he was inquisitive of nothing else, and I believe this sad Object did suit with his melancholy humour; So as I acquainted him with the retreat of Menesteus, and the solitary life that he led: he was so much taken with the story, that though he was so weak as hardly able to sustain himself, yet he would needs have me carry him thither, and so I did. And after this time, he went thither every day: for though Menesteus was used to avoid all company, yet the melancholy of this stranger admitted him sooner than any other: and Menesteus was so taken with him, that he desired his visits every day as long as he stayed with me. But when news was brought yesterday, that I should have the honour to receive you, Sir, into my house, he appeared to be extremely troubled, and prepared for his departure the very same hour, though he was in a most unfit condition for it. However, I believe his apprehensions of your coming hither was the true cause why two wounds which he said he had received in the Wars, and which he thought almost healed, did open again: So that then it being impossible for him to go far by reason of the blood which he lost, and resolving not to stay in a place where you Sir, were to come, I advised him to hide himself in this Tomb, not foreseeing your curiosity of seeing it: And indeed he took my counsel, staying here until yesterday at Evening, when I acquainted Menesteus with your resolutions of coming hither, and it must be he who can tell you better than I, how he received the news. It is then you (said Cyrus unto Menesteus) who must better inform us, and tell us why he of whom we speak, did fear my coming hither. Sir, replied Menesteus, he told Eucrates as well as me, that he being engaged in the contrary part unto yours, he would not expose himself unto the danger of being your slave, and he said it with so much sadness his face, that I am confident being so generous as you are, you would not have inchained him, if you had seen him in the same condition I did, though he had been your most mortal Enemy. As soon as he heard that the Princess Mandana was to come hither, and you also; he told me that he must be gone, as soon as ever the Moon which then shined, was set, that he might pass unseen: And seeming as if he would rest two hours, purposely to have time to write this Letter, he desired my favour to pass away his time in the Tomb, thinking it as he said to be more safe than any other; And so causing his Servant to carry some Cushions for his better case, I left him there until the hour he said he would depart: And he being told that the Moon was set, he prepared for his departure, not speaking a word of the Letter which he left. But truly, Sir, he departed in such a deplorable condition, that I then knew his flight had a more urgent cause then he told me: for though his wounds began to bleed afresh, yet be gone he would, maugre all my desires to the contrary, assuring him that I would find a way to hide him so in the Tomb as he should not be discovered when I saw his resolute intention, I pressed him to tell me the reason of his haste, and he told me with a sighing embrace, that the very same Passion which kept me in the Tomb caused him to go out, and prayed me to think that if I knew his misery, I should say he were the most unfortunate man in the world. After this, Sir, he took horse in extreme pain, and without any followers but this one man which waited upon him; he took along the Torrent Maugre the darkness of the night, and the weakness of his condition: So as in all likelihood, he is either fallen into the Torrent, or wandered in the wild Forest, or dead of his wounds and sorrows: Whilst Menesteus was saying so, Mandana held down her eyes, as being the innocent cause of the miseries of this Prince, she could not choose but pity him, who had been as virtuous a man as any lived, had he not loved her too well, or had not his Passion confounded his Reason. Cyrus himself though his Rival, was moved unto pity, and doubtless had been more, had he not observed the Compassion of Mandana: yet he kept himself within the prescribed limits of his intention, notwithstanding the contrary gusts of his heart: So then conceiving that if he should give orders to follow the King of Pontus, he should have him in his power; he would not out of his generosity do it; and indeed because he thought Mandana would blame him, and also because he had promised Araminta to wave his revenge for her sake: So that addressing himself unto Menesteus, though the King of Pontus whom you harboured (said he unto him) be one of the Princess Mandana's Persecutors, and one of my greatest Enemies in being my Rival; yet I must commend you for your assistance, and assure you to make your reception of him his Sanctuary, I will not suffer him to be followed. Indeed (added Mandana with as much sweetness as generosity) I do conceive that revenge of Crimes ought to be left only unto the Gods, and not execute it upon any Enemy that cannot hurt.  
In the mean time, as the astonishment of Menesteus and Eucrates was great to hear that it was the King of Pontus whom they had assisted; so the wonder of Mazares and Anaxaris was greater, and that of Intaphernes, Aglatidas, Doralisa, and Martesia, was no less. Yet the wonder did produce different effects in the minds of Mazares and Anaxaris: for the first considering that if he had not carried away Mandana from Synope, the King of Pontus had never been reduced unto this pitiful condition, he became extremely melancholy, conceiving that the Princess Mandana could not call to mind the King of Pontus his Adventure, but she must needs also revive in her memory those fallacies which the excess of his Passion caused, and must in her heart accuse him for it. But for Anaxaris: he had one of the oddest Conceits that ever love infused into any mind: for though he hoped that the King of Pontus might perhaps die of his wounds, when he escaped out of Cumes in a Fisher's Boat, yet now he was joyed to see that Cyrus had more Rivals living then he thought of: So as never considering that the King of Pontus could not be the Rival of Cyrus, unless he were his also; he thought only that as miserable as he was, that he would be an Obstacle unto the happiness of Cyrus: So as if he was sad at this Accident, it was only to imagine that perhaps he would die by his own hasty flight. As for Intaphernes though he had closely adhered unto Arsamones against the King of Pontus, yet he could not choose but infinitely commend Cyrus and Mandana, for their generosity in not following this unfortunate King. However since this Accident was very strange, it caused the discourse to continue so long, that before Mandana and Cyrus had seen the second Tomb, and had talked with this solitary Mourner, of his love and sorrows, before they had got to the Castle and had dined, it was so late that they resolved to spend all the rest of the day in that place, and not to depart until the morning. But whilst Cyrus was busy in giving out several Orders for the March of his Troops, and the way he would have them hold when they came near Cappadocia, Mandana called Martesia into a little Closet, and began to talk of this adventure: Certainly Martesia (said she unto her) I am designed for strange things; may it not well be said, that the Gods have taken from me the power and comfort of hating all those who wrong me, and deprived me of the pleasure of sweet revenge? If reflection be had upon past things, you will see that I have reason for what I say. If I look upon the King of Assyria, Mazares and the King of Pontus, as Princes who have ravished me away, and caused all the miseries of my life, have I not the greatest reason in the world to hate them, and be revenged; and yet the Gods do send such intelligence of them, as must needs abate my hate, and will not let me wish their Ruin. What strong testimonies have I of the grief and repentance of Mazares when he thought me dead? hath not Orcames fully informed me of the Assyrian Kings most violent affection to me? and hath not Menesteus sufficiently told me the very heart of that Prince unto whom I as well as Cyrus are Debtors for our lives, and whom I have cost two Kingdoms? Really Martesia, I could not imagine that ever three Princes should be so unjust as to ravish me away and yet be ever worthy of my pity. The strangest thing, Madam, replied Martesia, and the most glorious for you, is, that all these Princes do merit to enjoy you, if they had not made themselves unworthy of it, by their unjust carrying you away; And if the Gods had not sent a Prince who alone hath higher parts than they all have, and who adores you with such a reverend Passion, as never gave you the least cause of complaint.  
The truth is, replied Mandana, I should be very ungrateful, and by consequence very unjust, if I did not rank Cyrus in my highest esteem and friendship, and if I did not think myself very happy in Reigning over the heart of such a man whom the Gods have thought worthy to Reign over all Asia. As the Princess pronounced these words, Cyrus having dispatched all his orders, entered into the place where she was, and as soon as ever she saw him, she blushed, as if she were afraid he had overheard her. Cyrus' perceiving it, did bethink himself what might be the cause of that carnation in Manadas Complexion: for as the Actions of persons loved are never indifferent; so he was something troubled at this alteration in the Countenance of that Princess whom he adored: Though, Madam, said he unto her, that sweet blush seemed to give a fresh Lustre unto your beauty, yet I could not choose but be troubled at it, out of my fear lest I was the cause of it, by interrupting you uncivilly; I could perhaps, if I would (replied Mandana with a smile, and blushed more) consent unto half you say without disobliging you: but since your unjust suspicion of interrupting me uncivilly, deserves a punishment, you shall know no further. Did you but know, Madam, replied Cyrus, what punishment it is for a Lover to be ignorant of what passeth in the heart of her he adores when he has a desire of it, doubtless you would say, your Punishment exceeds my Crime: though indeed I must confess my weakness, and assure you, Madam, that I would do almost any thing in the world to know the cause of your blush. I know very well, that this fond Curiosity is one of those follies wherewith the Passion which possesseth me is upbraided: but yet for all that, I find it to be well grounded. Indeed (pursued he and smiled) since it is permittable in War to have Spies in the place which one would take, it is as well allowable to have some in the heart which one would Conquer, and so hold intelligence: Since Spies are only employed (replied Mandana) to know what passeth amongst Enemies; you stand in need of none to know what passeth in my heart: for there is no War declared betwixt us. However, I assure you, Madam (replied Cyrus) that sometimes one may as much long to know the thoughts of her he adores, as to know the designs of his Enemies: and for my particular, I had rather have a faithful Spy in your heart, then have a hundred with the King of Assyria, or the King of Pontus, though they were Masters of Babylon or Sardis. Yet, Madam, I beseech you do not think that this my Curiosity hath any smack of Jealousy, nor that I am one of those Lovers, who are extremely inquisitive for what they would not find: But, Madam, the reason of it is (since I must confess it) because there is a notable difference between thoughts of esteem which are expressed by obliging Language, and hidden thoughts which are concealed almost from the parties themselves, and which others can know only but by guesses. Think it not strange then, Madam, that though I am not so impudent as to think you have any advantageous thoughts of me which you would not honour me with the Participation, yet I cannot choose but desire that I were able to dive into the secrets of your heart I must needs desire to have a sight of all the Virtues together, and wish your heart were open, that I should know all your thoughts, & all your desires. To satisfy one part of your Curiosity (replied Mandana to divert the discourse) I must tell you, that I have a strange desire to know all the thoughts of Menesteus, since this eight years that he hath lived in the Tomb of this fair one whom he loved and lost. Oh, Madam, said Cyrus, by seeming to satisfy my Curiosity, you rather aim at your own, and not my satisfaction: But it is not my part to prescribe Laws unto you, therefore since it is not you 〈…〉 pleasure, I should be more scrutinous into your Soul: and since you had rather I could talk of Menesteus, then of you or myself, I shall tell you that I cannot easily conceive all his eight years' thoughts, for love and sorrow are two inexhaustible gulfs of thoughts, if I may so express that bottomless Abyss in the mind of a grieved Lover, and which wholly possesseth him as long as his love and grief lasts: But the greater wonder is, how he hath lived so long, after the death of her he adored. For really Madam, without any aggravation of my sorrows at Synope, when I had cause to fear your being drowned, I can truly protest, that I had not one day more to live, when I heard you were living: I am much obliged to you, Sir, replied Mandana for your engaging sorrows, though I will not believe it to be so violent as you express, lest you should upbraid me with ingratitude: yet truly I must confess, that the most sensible sorrow of all sorrows is the death of the Party loved; and I am so fully persuaded of this truth, that as oft as I imagine that there is an absolute necessity I must one day hear of the death of persons whom I love, or they hear of mine, I am so melancholy as I hardly know myself. Oh, Madam, (cried out Cyrus) what a dismal image do you make to pass out of your Spirit into mine? I ask you pardon, Sir, replied she; but yet I think you are obliged to concur with me: for since I cannot think without a sad remembrance that you must one day hear of my death, or I of yours, methinks it is a mark of amity which merits a pardon for my sad discourse: your expressions, Madam, are so obliging, replied Cyrus, that I owe you a tribute of a thousand thanks: but for all that, Madam, I believe I shall scarcely pardon you this day, for infusing into me such apprehensions of your death.  
As soon as Cyrus had pronounced these words, Eucrates came to acquaint him that there was a man of Quality from Phoceus, whose name was Thrymetus, whom the Son of Menesteus had sent unto his Father, who desired to speak with him, and who arrived immediately after he was come out of the Tomb: Adding, that he was accompanied with two strangers, unknown either by their Habits or Language. Since Mandana conceived that this man could have no business with Cyrus which her presence might hinder, she desired that Prince, that Thrymetus might have audience before her, which Cyrus accordingly commanded: and Eucrates obeying, Thrimetus with his two strange Companions was brought into Mandana's Chamber, who with Cyrus saluted them, Thrymetus having a Letter (which was only of Credence) to present, he uttered these words; Sir, (said he unto him in Greeek) I am sent unto you from a Prince, whose good or bad fortunes you have power to make: but since he hath been so unhappy as to be engaged in a Party opposite unto yours, and constrained to preserve his liberty by abandoning ●his Country unto your Victorious Arms, and to have recourse unto flight; I cannot tell, Sir, whether his hopes of reception be well grounded: but I am most certain that the Prince Menesteus his Father, unto whom I came upon a message, is so charmed with your generosity, that he makes no doubt but that I shall obtain my demands. To testify, replied Cyrus, that I have a great disposition to grant any thing unto a Prince of his merit who sent you; I will not assume the Right of Conquerors, which ne'er allows their vanquished Enemies the names of those Countries which are conquered from them. But on the contrary, though Peraneus was never yet called the Prince of Phoceus, because he who left him that Title did not perish until since his departure, yet I will be the first that will call him so, and entreat you to name him no otherwise; for since the Prince Thrasibalus hath given once such noble Characters of his Virtue and Valour, I am resolved to treat him as favourably as I have done others, who merits it no more than he. Oh Sir, reylyed Thrymetus, I ask no more, for since you are pleased to acknowledge Peraneus in the presence of these strangers, to be a Prince, and the Prince of Phocens you have granted as much as I had in Commission to ask: and you have made him the most happy Prince upon Earth, if I may phrase a man so, who hath not the glory to be particularly known unto the greatest Prince in the World. Since the expressions of Thrymetus did surprise both Cyrus and Mandana; and since they observed much joy in the face of one stranger, and much sorrow in the eyes of the other, they were full of Curiosity to know the cause of this adventure: So as Mandana speaking Greek as elegantly as her natural Language, she very obligingly asked Thrymetus the interpretation of it, and the true cause of his Voyage. Cyrus also desired to know where the Prince of Phoceus was, desiring to be informed of all his Actions since he was chosen chief of that fugitive Troop. Also he asked who those strangers were whom by their habits he knew not, what interest they had in the Prince of Phoceus? and how it was possible, that three or four advantageous words which he had spoken in his behalf, should make him happy? The Questions which you ask, Sir, replied Thrymetus, are not to be answered in few words, no more than those the Princess Mandana was pleased to inquire of: But, Sir, though you should have the goodness and the leisure to lend an ear unto so extraordinary an adventure, as that of the Phocean Prince (since you are pleased I should give him his right name) yet, Sir, before I tell it, I must beg one Favour myself, which is, that you would be pleased, Sir, to employ your persuasions and Authority upon the Prince Menesteus, that he would quit the Tomb wherein he dwells, and go into a place where you would establish a new Dominion upon the Prince his Son. The more you speak, replied Cyrus, the less I understand you, and the more inquisitive I am: And therefore since I know the Princess to be as full of Curiosity as myself, I do declare unto you, that I will not grant any thing, unless you will tell her the life of that Prince who sent you. But since it would be perhaps unjust to oblige you unto a long Narration before you have rested yourself, I shall entreat Eucrates to have a care of you & those in your company, & to bring you hither in the Evening, that the Princess may have the pleasure to hear you, if you do not deny her. It so much concerns the Prince who sent me, replied Thrymetus, that you should not deny the Favour which I ask; that I should do very ill service, if I should not relate an adventure which is infinitely glorious unto him: Therefore, Sir, I will obey when you shall please to command.  
After this, and many obliging passages from Cyrus, and Mandana, he and the two strangers retired, who one might perceive did perfectly understand what was spoken, but were not so versed in Greek, as to speak it before a Prince and Princess who understood it so admirably well. As Thrymetus went out of Mandana's Chamber; Mazares, Myrsyles, Artamas, Andramites, and many others entered, who extremely wondering at the uncouth habits of these strangers, asked Cyrus who they were? For my part (said Artamas, after Cyrus said he knew them not) I had thought that your Valour had set Confines to your Conquests, because it could find no more to Conquer: but yet I see there are people which the Conquer or of Asia knows not. Since we fought only (replied Cyrus modestly) for the liberty of the Princess, we have set Confines to our Conquests in delivering her, unless we should do justice unto her merits, and make her Queen of all the world, or unless she have a desire to make new Subjects of these strangers whom we know not. I assure you, Sir, replied Mandana, that though I think you worthy to be Master of all the world, and think you able to Conquer it, yet, Sir, your life, and the lives of so many great Princes who have assisted you in your Conquests, are so dear unto me, that if you never make any War but to satisfy my Ambition, you shall sheathe all your Swords in perpetutal peace. Whilst Mandana was speaking thus, Doralisa and Pherenice who had met with Martesia, and who were talking with Andramites in the corner of the Chamber which was not large, they heard what Cyrus and Mandana said: and Doralisa finding a kind of barbarism in the Air of these strangers, she told Andramites who came to her, that the Princess had good reason not to desire the Conquest of such Subjects: After which, she began to make such pleasant descriptions of the Airs, Garbs, Postures, Reverence, and habits of these two men, that though there was some injustice in her fine Raillary, yet those who heard could not choose but be much delighted: insomuch as Martesia Pherenice and Andramites, laughed heartily: But the rarest part of the accident was, that Mandana who had a marvellous piercing wit, did guests the truth, and imagined that Doralisa had found a subject of Diversion in these strangers, though they were very magnificent and handsome: And therefore desiring to give a testimony of her goodness, and find such a subject of discourse as might put off those Applauds which they began to give her, she told her thoughts unto Cyrus and Myrsiles, who being always glad of any occasion to hear Doralisa speak, beseeched the Princess with a smile, to correct her Injustice: So that Mandana being willing to please Myrsiles, she went to Doralisa: were not you Doralisa making some fine descriptions of the two strangers (said she) when you talked unto Pherenice Martesia & Andramites, and caused them to laugh so loud? I assure you, Madam, answered she, I deserve no great Commends for so easily moving their mirth, for it was such good sport to see these strangers, that the very remembrance of them is enough to move laughter; Really Doralisa, replied Mandana, you are a strange woman, for since they spoke not, since they are very magnificent, and since they are handsome enough, you cannot upbraid them with the fashion of their habits, and Garb which is different from those you see every day: so as doubtless they think you as different from the Ladies they use to see, as you think them different from the men you see, and as amiable as you are, perhaps they think of you, what you think of them. I assure you, Madam, replied she, and laughed, if I make them as merry as they make me, we are much beholding to each other. Fie, Doralisa said Cyrus, and smiled, your speeches do make me exceedingly afraid: for I being a Persian born, and you a Sardinian, I fear that the first time you saw me, I seemed as great a stranger to you as these; therefore I conjure you to tell me seriously, how I seem now your eyes are accustomed to see me? Oh Sir, (replied she with her natural and sprightly vivacity) such Conquerors as you, are strangers no where: And I may well say you are the same at Persipolis that you are at Babylon, at Sardis, at Ecbatan, at Artaxates, at Susa; at Themiscira, and at Cumes: So as I assure you, all the world is your Country, and you a stranger no where. Indulgency to strangers (replied Mandana and smiled) is a duty; and if I should humour my own inclination, I would excuse them all: yet since you are such a pleasant Critic to observe so subtly the faults of others, I must confine you unto your own Country and acquaintance. But as for these strangers, who are so ridiculous to you, I do intend to take them into my Protection, and tell you further that if any Ethiopians, Indians, or Scythians come to Ecbatan, when I am there. I will defend them against you, for I must confess I cannot endure this kind of Injustice, though it be almost universal. But, Madam, I beseech you with all due reverence, replied Doralisa, give me leave to justify myself, and examine the matter a little: with all my heart (said Mandana) though I am confident you will have much ado with all your wit to prove it no inhumanity to jeer a stranger, merely because he is a stranger. For my part, said Cyrus, I am clearly of opinion with the Princess. That opinion is so just (said Mazares) as I cannot think it will admit of any argument: If I should speak without interest (said the Prince Myrsiles, and looked upon Mazares) doubtless I should concur with you in the opinion of the Princess: But since I am no stranger unto Doralisa, I do so much fear that if she be induced to make peace with strangers, than she will declare War with me, as I dare not declare myself against her in this business. For my part (said Artamas) my reason is contrary unto yours, since I am not of Doralisa's Country: yet I must adhere unto the opinion of the Princess by interest, though the same reason were not, since justice and goodness are on her side. For aught I see (replied Doralisa undantedly) you have brought me to that pass as I cannot but come off in this dispute with honour; for there are so many Illustrious persons against me, that though I be vanquished, yet I need not be ashamed: and if I be not, than I shall have more glory than ever any had; since never any did overcome some of those whom I shall vanquish. But yet (said Mandana) what can you say to excuse yourself of that injustice whereof you are accused? have not every Nation, every Kingdom their particular Customs? nay, has not every Province, every Town their different Fashions? either in their Habits or in their Civilities; there Graces of body, & all those trifling exterior things which reach only the eyes, but not at all the Soul and mind. I do confess it, Madam, replied Doralisa, but I confess withal, that it is this difference which diverts me by its odness, without any injustice to the stranger; for I give him the same liberty which I take myself, and not caring what he thinks of me, I think of him what I please. But Doralisa you think not right, replied Mandana, if you blame him because he is habited after the mode of his Country, as you are after yours; I do not blame him in particular, replied Doralisa, but I blame all his Nation in general: Then are you the more unjust (replied Cyrus, and laughed) to scoff at three or four hundred thousand men at once, because one or two of them only does not please you: Furthermore (added Mandana) it is unreasonable to desire that an Egyptian should be a Persian, when he is at Persipolis; or that a Persian should be an Egyptian at Memphis, so that changing himself in every Town he comes in, he would make himself called that Creature which assumeth several Colours as he changeth his Air: For so Doralisa doubtless must he. All I require in a stranger, Madam, replied she, is to conform himself as much as he can unto the Customs of that Country where he is, and that he do not amaze all eyes by his odd Garments, unless at some stately entrance amongst a great Company. I would have him also, to speak very little, unless he be assured to speak well: I would have him also contented with seeming Liberal and Magnificent, without pretending unto any Politeness or Gallantry; since they are things of fashion and use, and have their particular decency in every Nation, which a stranger is often absurd in, out of his own Country: But above all things I would have him leave me so much liberty as to laugh harmlessly at all he says or does which is against my mind. For truly, Madam, if he will not allow me that liberty, I shall not let him take it; and I do the more desire this freedom, because I should use it without offence: for there is a great difference between Raillary upon a man of ones own Country, and Raillary upon a stranger; provided it extend only to such things as are particular unto his Nation: since the first of these proceeds from malice, and those who divert themselves at that rate do seldom purchase any esteem unto themselves: But, Madam, as for the other, I profess that my laughing at a stranger does not proceed from any malice of heart: And though these two men I saw this day, did much divert me, yet I do verily believe they may be very complete men, and Gallants in their own Country: So that taxing neither their wits, nor their honesties, nor courages; I do conceive myself not so culpable as you make me: And truly, Madam, if the nature of my laughing at such things be well examined, it will be found nothing so malicious as to laugh (as most of the world do) when a horse throws his Rider, or when ones head is broken: for it argues much more malignity to laugh at such things as do hurt, and is a greater spite unto those upon whom they happen; then to laugh and be merry, as I am, at a fantastical and uncouth Habit: at an out-of-fashion Congee, or a word ill pronounced: yet Madam, you know how ordinary and unhuman it is to laugh at such sad accidents; and as wise, as pitiful as you are, I cannot tell whether you have not been sometimes moved to smile at such an accident. Doralisa spoke this in such a jolly manner, that Mandana and all the Company could not choose but laugh, and confess withal, that she deserved the liberty of laughing, not only at all strangers, but also at all she knew; and to testify unto you (said Cyrus unto her) that I think what I speak, I give you a free right, to play upon me when you please, and to be merry at my expenses when you find any occasion. Should I never divert myself, replied she, but when you give me occasion, I should live a most wearisome life: But, Sir, added she, and laughed, since you are out of your goodness, pleased to let me laugh at these two strangers, I desire no more this eight days: yet for all this, all the Company concurred, that it was very unjust, not to be very kind unto strangers, or to take the Fashions of their Countries for incivilities, or arguments of defect in spirit: And all concluded with one voice, that as a man may be but very meanly accomplished, though he be most complete in his Habit, though he have the fashionable Cringe, and Garb of his Country; and though he have the Court tone to a tittle: So also it may very well be, that a stranger who has none of these Qualities, yet may merit much Esteem and Commendations, though his clothes be odd, though Carriage bad, and his Tone worse: And so we must ever be civil unto strangers, and search for their Qualities either good or bad, in their minds and souls: that is the only way to judge of them aright. After this, Discourse began to change Subject, and much Company coming in, it lasted until Suppertime; Then all the crowd of Princes and Gallants followed Cyrus, and left the Princess Mandana to Sup in private: But as soon as that Prince knew she was risen from the Table, he took Thrymetus who supped with him, as well as his two strange Companions, and claimed promise of him, and carried him to Mandana's Chamber, leaving those who came with him in the company of Eucrates; because Thrymetus acquainted Cyrus that he had many things to tell, which he would not have one of those strangers to hear. After which, they went unto Mandana's Chamber, and found her prepared with all necessary Curiosity, to give attention unto the relation which Thrymetus was to make. Siuce Cyrus knew well, that one does not love to make a long Narration before much Company, he brought none with him to Mandana's Chamber: so as Doralisa, Martesia, Anaxaris, Cyrus, and Mandana were all the Auditors of Thrymetus his Relation, which began in these Terms.  

THE HISTORY OF PERANIUS PRINCE OF PHOCEUS; AND Of the Princess CLEONISBE.  
SINCE it doth extremely import the Prince of whom I am to speak, that you should have a perfect knowledge of all his Excellent Qualities, I ask your permission, Madam, as well as that invincible Prince who hears me, to make you acquainted with him, whose Adventures you desire to know. And as to his Glory, I am to relate unto you some of his Heroic Acts, so I must betray some of his Virtues, that all the rest may the better appear unto you; for without any touch upon his modesty, I shall tell you of his great Courage, Spirit, Generosity, honesty, and all other excellent Qualities of his Soul and body: I shall tell you then, Madam, that the Prince of Phoceus is worthy to be descended from that Renowned Grecian, who raising a Colony of Gallant men in Phocides, passed into Asia, and there founded the Town of Phoceus, which all his Posterity have peaceably enjoyed, and in great Glory until the Victorious Arms of Cyrus did subject it, and chase out a Prince, Uncle unto him of whom I speak, whose unjust violence made him unworthy of such a Nepew. But, Madam, without searching amongst the Phocensians for matter of Commendations unto this Illustrious Prince of whom I am to treat; give me leave to tell you, that he was born with all high and noble Qualities: And that I am most confident, all Greece which furnished the world with so many great men, never had a soul more heroic than his. Since he had a Father, adorned with all excellent endowments, this Father was infinitely indulgent in the education of his son; and not contenting himself with what Phoceus could afford, he sent him to Athens, there to be instructed in all requisite Arts befitting his quality, and disposition, which was even from his Cradle martial, and apt for high things: And he made choice of Athens rather than Phoceus, because he had no mind to quit his Tomb wherein he lives.  
It was then at Athens Madam, where he was instructed in all the excellencies his age was capable of, yet he would not in that place study the military Art, before he could put it into practice: Always affirming that the theoric of War was nothing, and that precepts without practice would not profit him: Indeed he became a Soldier at fifteen years of age, and did so highly signalise himself, that his reputation made the bravest men jealous of him, even at a time when he might be thought a young Scholar in the school of Mars. I shall not make any exact relation Madam, of all his Acts in several Wars, from his fifteenth year until his four and twentieth; for as on the one side it is not very necessary, so on the other, I might perhaps make you question the truth of my words, by the multitude of Heroic actions which that Prince hath performed. Nor will I do, like those who commending only in a general way, do make it suspicious that they have nothing to say in particular.  
But to take the medium between these two extremes, and to acqnaint you with the martial inclination of the Phocean Prince, even in his greenest years, I must tell you how he made his first step into the Field, that you may thereby judge of his courage. Give me therefore leave Madam to tell you, that he being at Athens in his fifteenth year, and the Athenians in general being weary of a long and tedious War which they waged with the Megarians, about the possession of the Isle of Salamine, they set forth an Edict, by which they did forbid all those who had voices in the Council of public affairs, to make any more Propositions of continuing this War. Insomuch as Solon (whose name and merits Madam, I am confident is not unknown unto you) being exceedingly angry that they should give over such an important War in so ignominious a manner, he endeavoured with all circumspectiall diligence to quash this Edict which was proclaimed, without exposing himself and his Country unto so much danger, as to lose the assistance of each other. But all his endeavours had proved ineffectual, if the great soul of this young Prince had not helped him out. Be pleased to know Madam, that the Prince of Phoceus was the intimate friend of Pisistrates, and saw him almost every day: And being one day with Solon, as they were talking of this Edict which prohibited any motions of War, this young Prince seemed so troubled, that Solon taking notice of his heroic sadness, did much esteem him for it, especially when ask him the cause, he heard his answer. For as Solon asked him his reason why he was so angry at this Prohibition. Why Sir, replied he, does not the very same reason which forbids the continuance of the War, forbid men also to be valiant? If the Athenians give over a just War because they cannot wage it without danger, of what use is their valour? For my part, if this Edict be observed, I had rather return to Phoceus, then stay amongst a multitude of Cowards who are so base as to suffer it: Yet I know there are many young sparks which murmur at it in secret as well as myself.  
If any one were so hardy, replied Solon, as to propound the continuance of the war unto the Athenians, would you willingly second him? Never doubt it, replied he, and I am most confident that Pisistrates would follow, and that we should cause the greatest part of all the Sparks in the Town to back us. Solon hearing the young Peranius to say so, did highly applaud his courage, and without imparting his design, because he thought him too young to be trusted, he only did extremely commend his generosity: giving him afterwards many Reasons which proved this Edict to be most ignominious and disadvantageous unto the Athenians, not doubting but he would afterwards repeat them unto all those he discoursed with. The truth is, this Prince did so well second the intentions of Solon, that within three day's Pisistrates and he had disposed all the youth in the Town unto a general revolt unless this Edict was revoked, which would but rust their valour.  
Solon seeing things succeed to his hearts wish, resolved to make use of that invention, which was such a wonder unto all Greece, to see that man who was so highly famed for wisdom, should have recourse unto foolishness to compass his project. But for all that, this invention which had passed for a piece of extravagancy if it had not hit; was taken for a most rare invention, because it did prosper. Since I do not doubt Madam, but you are acquainted with this action of Solon, I shall not particularise it unto you; but only tell you in two words, that he having composed some verses fit to incite all the youth unto a demand of the Wars continuance against the Megarians, he did counterfeit himself to be out of his wits, and went unto a great place in Athens where he knew that Pisistrates and the Prince of Phoceus were walking with a great number of their Friends. As soon as he was there, he got upon a high stone Place where the public Cryer used to publish all Proclamations unto the People. He had no sooner recited those verses which he had composed to incite desire of War, but Pisistates and the Prince of Phoceus clapping their hands, and approving of what he said, and causing others to do the like, they went unto every street, and cried that this Edict must be revoked which was so ignominious to the Athenians, and so contrary to the Weal public: They spoke with such efficacy, that in less than two hours all the young men of Athens, brave and simple did join with them; And as young as they were, they spoke with such vehemency and authority, that none was so hardy as to resist them. So that Madam, this Edict must of necessity be revoked to appease the Tumult, and begin the War: And well may I say that Solon, Pisistrates, and Peranius only did it.  
However, the design of Solon having so well taken, he became wise again the next morning; and so well was he known to be so, that they conferred upon him the conduct of this War, wherein the Prince of Proceus did follow him, and did miracles. But Solon knowing that the rich men of Athens would still murmur at the great charges which this War would put them unto, he found a way how to ease them by a piece of policy, in which the Prince of Phoceus did highly signal himself as well as Pisistrates. He went by Sea unto a famous Temple dedicated unto Venus, unto which he knew many Athenian women of quality did resort; and choosing out a cunning and trusty fellow, he sent him unto the Megarians, which were not far from thence, with Orders to counterfeit the Traitor, ●in offering them a prize of all those Athenian women, and assuring them that they would all be at the Temple of Venus such a time, where they might be all easily taken: The plot did take, the Megarians believe the fellow, and come with a ship full of Soldiers to the place at the time appointed.  
In the mean time, Solon caused all the Ladies and women to forbear coming unto that place; and dressing a good number of brave youths in the habit of women, he brought them thither, the Prince of Phoceus was of the number; for being both young and as valiant as any Hero, he was very fit for such an Expedition: And placing himself in the front of all these seeming Ladies, who had all swords hidden under great loose Mantles, which they used to wear over their Gowns; He went, according to the orders of Solon, along the waterside, seeming as if they walked and waited until the hour of sacrifice, as it was the ordinary custom of those who came over soon.  
As soon as the Megarians saw them, they made all the Sail and Oar they could, and came to the place where they thought they saw so many Ladies: and landing in all haste, they came to take away those Ladies, thinking after this, that the Athenians would be glad to treat and make a Peace with them, to redeem their Wives from being slaves.  
But they were sufficiently amazed, when the Prince of Phoceus (who was the first that fell upon them, seeing them come towards him) threw off his Mantle and Hood upon his head, and put himself in a posture of armed defence: This strange Metamorphosis did most terribly surprise them; for he being at that time very fair, one would have said that Venus was in an instant turned into Mars.  
The change was not particularly in the Prince of Phoceus, for all the rest in an instant followed his example; and the Megarians were strangely terrified, to find such stout enemies in lieu of Ladies: They offered a retreat unto their Ship, but the Prince of Phoceus seconded by Pisistrates, getting betwixt the Sea and them, they passed almost all upon the point of the sword after which, being master of their ship, they made use of a second Fallacy, which did thrive as well as the first: For embarking all their Soldiers, they went towards Salamine as if they had been Megarians, and as if they had brought all the Athenian Ladies which they designed to fetch: so as the Inhabitants of the Isle never opposing their landing, but on the contrary preparing themselves to receive those in the ship, as men who had done them good service, they were extremely surprised to find that they had suffered Enemies to land, and more surprised to observe with what miraculous valour the young Prince of Phoceus did assault them. The terror was so great in the Isle, that Solon arriving in a ship presently after, did strike a deeper terror amongst the people; who believing that this ship would be seconded by a great Fleet, were all so damped with a Panic fear, that Pisistrates and the Prince of Phoceus became Masters of the Isle with much ease, and returned unto Athens with more honour, as well as Solon, whose wisdom was crowned with happiness, by their valour and his own contrivance.  
This Madam, was the first bud of Peranius his valour: since that, he hath done a thousand glorious Acts: There has not been any glorious business in all Greece wherein he was not one. But the wonder is, he is as well experienced in matters of Sea as Land, and knows as well how to be a Pilot as a Captain of a ship. The truth is Madam, the valour of this Prince is superlative: He hath been seen to assault whole Navies all lined with Archers; and maugre the thick clouds of Arrows and Darts, he hath carried fire, and burned the whole fleet: He hath been seen with one single ship give chase to three others, and take two of them: On the other side, he hath been seen set upon by five, and not taken. Furthermore, what hath he not done both in private and general Combats, both by Sea and Land? Yet for all this, though he had all the fury of an incensed soldier in his heart and eyes, when there was any ocsion, yet he had all imaginable sweetness in the air of his Countenance & Spirit, when no occasion was for his valour: And I am able to assure you of a truth, that he was as great a lover of the company of Ladies, as of honour: And certainly in his person it might be seen, that War and Love were not incompatible. Indeed he was a lover of all merriments which were the consequents of Peace, I mean Poetry, Music, Painting, and in general all that belongs to the Muses. He writes most elegantly, either in matters of serious, or matters of gallantry; and I am sure he can both describe a Battle very well, and also a combat of Love in his heart if he would declare his passion. As for his person it is infinitely pleasing, though his voyages at Sea hath a little blasted the great beauty of his youth: His stature is tall and big, his carriage high and noble; the Air of his Aspect, smiling and serious both, but never was any more sweet, nor of a greater Civility. The first time one sees him, he commonly speaks little, but there appears so much judgement in what he speaks, as it is easy to see, that if he would he can speak more, and speak well.  
Moreover, one should never hear him speak upon matters of War among women unless he were forced: and much less of any glorious acts which he had done, for he could not endure that any should commend him. But on the other side he was extremely zealous in commending the valour of others upon all occasions, and would be just even unto his greatest Enemies. Moreover, he was one of the faithful friends, and the most violent Lover that ever was, and he was as liberal as he was brave; but he was as apt for ambition as love, and no less jealous of his glory then of his Mistress. Further than this Madam, I have no more to say of the Phocean Prince, only that he seemed wise in all his undertake, and the impetuosity of his humour never appeared but only in love and war; for out of them he was so composed as it cannot be said there was ever turbulence in his heart or disorder in his spirit. This Madam was the temper of the Phocean Prince: & thus he was, when he heard that his Country was entering into wars, and he returned to defend it. Though he knew very well that the Pr: his Uncle was engaged in an ill cause, & knew the pretensions of the Prince Thrasibalus to be just; yet for all that, since it is sometimes Justice to defend those who are unjust therefore he went unto Phoceus, & there behaved himself, as the Prince Thrasibalus hath acquainted the illustrious Cyrus: At his return into his Country, he found that his sister named Onesienta was grown one of the fairest and most a miable persons that could be seen: Yet he was not joyed at the sight of her, because he found her all in tears, by reason of her fears to see her country ruined. She would have gone out of the Town if she could, though she had gone and cloistered up herself w2ith Menesteus in the Tomb; but the Country was not open, and there was as much danger in going out of Phoceus, as to tarry in it, so as she was forced unto patience: Also there being a man of high esteem & great merit, son unto unto one whose name was Sfurius, and whose own name was Menedorus who was in love with her, I believe it no small reason of her stay in Phoceus. However, the Town was in a very deplorable condition, when the late Prince of Phoceus, accompanied with Alexidesmus and many enormous persons who drew the wrath of the Gods upon our Town by leaving it in the night time, without acquainting any, or leaving a Soldier to defend it. You may imagine Madam, how the Inhabitants were amazed at such an accident: At first they cast their eyes upon the Prince Peranius, who would have exhorted them to defend themselves; but fear of servitude quashing their spirits, he could not prevail: so as resolving in a tumultuous manner to quit their Country for the preservation of their liberty, they entreated this Prince, that he would be pleased to be their General; telling him, that as his Predecessors carried into Asia the Colony which built Phoceus, so that he would please to conduct them unto some Country, promising him most exact obedience: He would once more have persuaded them to defend their walls, but it was impossible to persuade them unto a certain death. Insomuch as the Prince being forced to yield, and choosing rather to fly then yield without blows, as he must have done if he did not yield unto them, therefore he amuzed the Prince Thrasibalus under colour of a two day's parley; during which time he tackled up all the Ships in the Port, which was no small number, and in one night loading them with all that was precious in Phoceus, even to the very statues of the Temples, all the people of this stately Town embarked. But Madam, they embarqned in such disorder and confusion, that never was a more pitiful sight to be seen, than these miserable Inhabitants loadned with their goods and children, followed by their wives and servants, all forsaking their Town with tears, and making the most lamentable cries that ever was heard: Many were so hasty in entering into the Ships, as they fell into the Sea, where death quitted them from that servitude which they feared.  
For my part, I must confess, I never saw the like; for in lien of prayers which Pilots use at leaving the Port for a favourable wind, nothing but a confused noise of crying Children could be heard; women lamenting, men cursing their hard fortune, and Mariners crying. Whole families might be seen striving to get into one ship: Friends with Friends, Lovers with Lovers desired they might perish together if storms did rise.  
In the mean while the generous Prince who was General of this Fleet, having assembled most of the women of Quality together, he put them into a ship that was to be his own, with the Princess his Sister, choosing three hundred of the best men for Soldiers. As for Menedorus, he left his Father Sfurius, and was with the Prince of Phoceus, that he might in this general misfortune be nigh unto her he loved, and mix his sighs and sorrows with hers.  
At last Madam, all being embarked, Anchors weighed, and day ready to dawn, the Prince of Phoceus gave command to sail towards the Isle of Chio, hoping the Inhabitants of that Isle would sell unto them the uninhabited Isles which are in that Place, and therefore he made that way. But that you may the better see how strangely the fear of servitude had possessed the minds of the Phocean Inhabitants, be pleased to know, that they made a public oath, by which they engaged themselves never to return again unto their Town; and for testimonial obligation thereof, they cast into the Sea a heavy piece of Iron, with oath never to return until that iron did float upon the water again, making a thousand curfes upon him that should be the first propounder of a Return.  
This terrible Oath being made, the Fleet set forward; but day no sooner did permit them to discern objects, but all this Navy consisting of so many ships, both over-loadned and ill equipped, perceived that contrary winds did rise with the Sun. For my part, being in the ship with the Prince of Phoceus, I did admire at his experience in the presages of a storm; for he no sooner cast his eyes upon the open Sea, but he knew by the colour only that a Tempest was nigh: and indeed the Sea beginning to swell upon a sudden, there was great reason to fear that this unhappy fleet would be dispersed. However, since they never used any vessels in our Town but such as had Oars, they went on, notwithstanding the contrariety of the winds. I need not tell you Madam, in what a fright this great number of women were who never so much as saw the Sea before, but as they walked to take the Air in a serene afternoon, for this was not yet the last tempest which we found. At last Madam, we came to the Isle of Chio, but in lieu of being received with humanity, they denied us the entrance into any of their Ports, and were so far from selling unto the Prince of Phoceus the uninhabited Isles which belong unto them, and are called the Isles of Enussus, that they looked upon us as Enemies, and told us that they would not admit of such Neighbours which might become stronger than themselves, and might hinder their Commerce: so as all we could obtain from them, was some such refreshments as we stood in need of: Thus were we in a most deplorable condition. The great courage of the Phocean Prince had a mind to make these Inhabitants more pitiful by force, who were so cruel as to deny us admittance, which they might so easily have granted. But all the ship being full of Women, Children, and Servants, and having almost no Soldiers, he could not attempt any thing upon them; for though he could easily have possessed himself of the Enussian Islands, yet he would not, because it was impossible to keep them: So then to Sea again we must, not being fully resolved what course to steer: But just as we were ready to weigh Anchor at the rising of the Moon, at which hour the Sea commonly is most calm, the Pilots of the Ships did say, they heard a voice which bade them go unto Ephesus, and the Goddess there adored would tell them where they should find a habitation. These Pilots had no sooner told what they heard, but a confused noise was heard in every ship, which said that this voice from heaven must be obeyed: so as though the Prince of Phoceus gave no credit unto what these Pilots told him, yet he must obey a great number, so that to Ephesus we must. But since it was not a place where this Fleet could safely harbour, nor where it was likely they would receive us, I was made choice of to wait upon the Princess Onesicrite, who would herself go and offer a Sacrifice unto Diana: Indeed, we came to Ephesus in a Boat, and afterwards went unto that famous Temple, where that Goddess is adored, to ask of her what course we should take.  
As soon as the Sacrifice was ended, she who commanded the veiled Virgins, whose name was Aristonice, came unto Onesicrite to tell her, that the goddess had appeared during the sacrifice, and had let her understand that she would take us into her protection; That she would have us steer our course towards the Isle of Cyrnes, and that from thence we should submit ourselves unto the conduct of the wind and waves: Adding, that when we were arrived at the Harbour unto which she would conduct us, she would be there adored under the figure of a Statue which she would show us, and which was like unto that in the middle of the Temple, only not so great: And to evidence unto you (said Aristonice unto us) that you need not doubt the words of the Goddess whom I serve.  
I must further tell you, that she having absolutely commanded me to go myself to found a Temple unto her honour in the place where she intends to conduct your Fleet, I am ready to go with you, and teach you by my example how to trust unto her promises. I must confess Madam, that the speech of Aristonice did surprise me as well as Onesicrite, and raised a greater confidence in me than I had before: For I saw one, whom I knew to be a person of great virtue and spirit, ready to quit her Country, and follow strangers whom she knew not. Moreover, be pleased to know, that the physiognomy of Aristonice was so noble, so wise, and so Majestical, that she attracted the eyes of all beholders: Also there was a great disposition in the Princess Onesicrite to reverence and believe her: And Aristonice having assembled all the veiled Virgins, she told them that the Goddess had commanded her to go and build a Temple in a place which she did not know: After which, she surrendered her authority over them unto another, and left them, to go with us, waited on only by two of her Companions.  
Thus we returned unto our Fleet, who received us with more joy than I am able to express: The statue of Diana was looked upon by all the People with unexpressible raptures of joy, and Aristonice was reverenced by all the Fleet, as if she had been the Goddess herself. This Image of Diana for the satisfaction of the multitude, must be set upon the Poop of the Prince of Phoceus his ship, that it might be visible to all the Fleet. As for the Prince of Phoceus, though a Soldier, yet did he fear and reverence the gods: he honoured Aristonice as a woman consecrated unto them; and ere long after he admired her as a person extraordinary, when he discovered the greatness of her spirit and virtue.  
In the mean time, though he had doubted of the apparition which she said she saw, yet he could not choose but follow her orders, since the multitude had so great a confidence in what she said. We sailed therefore to the Isle of Cyrne without any obstacle; for since our fleet seemed to be a Navy, and that a great one, there was no fear of any Pirates: and from Chio the wind was so favourable that we came to Cyrne without the least ruffle of the Sea: Hitherto, the Prince of Phoceus submitted unto the conduct of Aristonice without contradiction: But after he had taken in all necessaries at that Isle, she would have persuaded him that the Pilots must submit all unto the wind and waves, and make choice of no Course but as the wind directed; then his Faith began to stagger, and he would never have obeyed, if the multitude stronger than he had not compelled him.  
Sfurius, who was the most considerable man in the Fleet next the Prince of Phoceus, was very hardly brought to consent unto it: Menedorus murmured extremely, and I must needs confess I did what I could to oppose it. But the people being all for Aristonice, submit we must unto the waves, wind, and fortune. All this while Aristonice was calm, and had such a strong confidence in the goddess whom she adored, that she doubted not the fulfilling of her promises.  
Now Madam were we in a strange condition since we went we know not whither, and without any design but as the wind did waft us: Yet were we in much more deplorable condition; for the gods doubtless to punish our unbelief, did raise a most hideous tempest: For Madam, the Wind seemed to blow from all Coasts, and the waves were so high that they dashed over all the ships. Moreover, darkness, thunder, lightning, rain mingling with waves and winds did all make such a horrid noise, that the roaring of the Sea could not be distinguished: Now did every one think to perish, and repent of their trusting too much unto hazard. But as for Aristonice in the worst of the Tempest, when the whole Fleet was ready to be dispersed, and she herself at the point of perishing, she kept still in the same tranquillity and confidence.  
As for the Prince of Phoceus, he seemed resolute and constant, but it was only out of his great heart which feared not death, and not out of any hopes to escape. As for Menedorus, though he did not apprehend the danger in respect of himself, yet he was not so resolute as the Prince of Phoceus; for his fears of the Princess Onesicrite did fill him so full of compassion, and he was so grieved to see her in danger, that if throwing himself into the Sea would have calmed the tempest, he would willingly have been the victim to appease incensed Neptune. But amidst all these murmurs, Aristonice with her ordinary tranquillity did speak with the same freedom of spirit, as if the Seas were all serenity and calmness. Poor men that you are (said she unto the murmuring Mariners) though you do not believe my words, yet believe that the same Gods which raised, can calm this tempest, and perhaps make it serve to bring you unto a Port: Leave the Rudder to their providence, and be guided by them since they are wiser than you. The truth is Madam, after we had been weatherbeaten three whole days, our Masts broken, and our Sails shattered, upon a sudden the winds ceased, the waves abated, the Rain diminished, the Heavens cleared, and the Sun shined: so as in an instant passing from an extreme roughness into a calm smoothness, hope began to cheer up our hearts: Yet I must tell you, our hopes were but weak; for our ship was in a very bad condition, and our whole Fleet was extremely dispersed, two ships were not together, and doubtless the happier for us; for had not the winds separated them one from another, they had infallibly fallen foul upon each other and enter-shaked. As soon as all was calm, Aristonice getting upon the Deck, kneeled before the Image of Diana, and in behalf of the whole Fleet thanked that Goddess for preserving them: After which, rising up, she was the first that discovered Land. Then speaking with authority as if inspired by the gods; Courage (said she unto the Prince of Phoceus who was next her) for I see the place where Diana will have a new Altar, and where she will find us a most safe Sanctuary. As soon as she had said so, the Prince of Phoceus spied some rocks which seemed to confine the Sea; so as not knowing whether that Land was Friend or Enemy, they steered thither. Since all the Fleet strove to rally together, and endeavoured to repair every ship which the Tempest had shattered. It was long before we came there, for the Storm had so weatherbeaten them, that they were almost out of hopes to get unto the Shore, it was so far off: but the Mariners being very industrious, and life being very sweet, every one was both laborious and full of invention, so as we came near enough to discern a most pleasant Country.  
Then we discovered very near us, three little Islands almost at an equal distance from each other, and made a Regular Triangle: where there was a Port able only to receive fifteen or twenty Ships; the Prince of Phoceus made towards these Isles, which were separated from the Continent about thirty Furlongs, that he might there reassemble all the Fleet: and from thence send to know what Country it was which they saw and seemed so pleasant at such a distance: Since his Pilot had not lost his Rudder, though he had neither Sayl-yard nor Mast he caused him to Row by strength, and leaving all the rest of the Ships a good way behind he arrived at these Isles, the Sea being as calm as any Lake. When he was so near to discern that they had no Trees, he saw come out betwixt these Isles a great Painted and Gilded Bark, whose Sails were Sky-colour, as well as all the Cordage, which had upon the Poop a most stately Tent, under which were many Ladies and some men talking to them. But as the sight of the Bark rejoiced all that were in the Prince of Phoceus his Ship, so this shattered bottom moved those that were in this Bark unto compassion: but their compassion was mixed with some wonder; for since they espied at that time a great Fleet behind our Ship, we perceived that in lieu of coming to us, they sent out a little Boat to know who we were. This Encounter being both full of wonder and delight unto us considering the state wherein we were, and the need we had of help, the Princess Onesicrite, and all of any quality in the Ship got upon the Deck, and began to look at the Bark with as much Curiosity as they looked at us. But when this little Boat was come up to us, we made such signs of Peace unto them as we use upon our Seas, not knowing whether or no they understood us, we perceived that the Habit of those three men in it, was altogether unknown unto us. Aristonice herself, who thought she had seen men of all Nations in the World at the Temple of Ephesus, she confessed, that she could not imagine of what Country they should be: However, though their Habits were something barbarous, yet there was something of handsomeness in them, as you may judge by those who came with me. But, Madam, the worst at first was, that when they spoke unto us we did not understand them; so as not thinking that men whom we understood not, could understand us, we began to express our misfotune by signs. But one of the three hearing us talk to one another, we much rejoiced to hear him leave that Language which he used at first, and ask us in Greek of what Country we were? whither we were going, and what Fleet that was behind us? Madam, I cannot easily express our joys; let it suffice I tell you, that it was so great a wonder that we were almost ravished out of our wi●s: for though it was only the part of the Phocean Prince to answer, yet almost every one upon the Deck did answer something; Aristonice said that Diana conducted them unto their Country: Onesicrite, that war had driven them from their Country; the Prince of Phoceus said, that fear of servitude had chased them away: Menedorus, that Tempest had cast them upon their Coasts, and I think that I said, the Gods did never give them such an excellent Subject to exercise all their Virtues, saying also something which might intimate unto them the quality of the Phocean Prince, of Onesicrite, of Menedorus, and of Aristonice. But, Madam, all these confused Answers being made, the Prince of Phoceus asked what Country that was? and who was in that stately Bark? The man of whom he enquired being of a witty spirit, told him in short, that the people which did inhabit it were called the Segoregians: that their Country was bounded on one side by another people called the Salian Gauls, on another by the Tectosages, who inhabit along the Rapid River called the Rhosne, on another side by a Country called the Celtique Gauls, and also on another side by the Sea towards Africa in the South. He told him afterwards, that the King of the Segoregians was called Senan: That he was a Widower, that he was come to recreate himself some days at a Castle which was very near that shore, and that the Princess his Daughter called Cleonisbe, having a desire to take the Air upon the Sea, was in that Bark, and had sent him to know all things concerning them. The Prince of Phoceus hearing this, desired him to obtain leave of the Princess that he might see her, and beseech her to obtain of the King her Father, a Harbour for so many distressed people, conjuring the man to be their Interpreter: No no, Sir, (replied the man) I need not explayn your Languag unto the Princess Cleonisbe: For though she live in a Clime far from where the Arts and Sciences do Reign, yet I assure you she speaks Greek that might become Athens. However, since I dare not permit you to go unto her without her orders, give me leave to render her an account of what she desires to know: The Prince of Phoceus consenting unto it, he went back unto the Princess Cleonisbe.  
On the other side, our Fleet perceiving our stay, came to us before the Cockboat returned. But Madam, be pleased to know, that this man who spoke unto us was not born amongst the Segoregians; but on the contrary was a famous Grecian, who had heretofore undergone the law of Ostracism, and by fortune was driven upon this happy Country where he stayed: so as giving an account unto the Princess Cleonisbe of all he heard from the Prince of Phoceus, he told her, as we afterwards knew, that if he were the same he said himself to be, he was one of the most valiant men in the world, adding a thousand commendums of his person: so as this Grecian Officer, whose name was Hipomenes, speaking very advantageous of the Phocean Prince unto Cleonisbe, as he did of her unto him, I assure you they did esteem, before they knew each other.  
In the mean time the Princess Onesicrite, knowing she was to appear before a person of such quality commanded her Women to order her weatherbeaten Curls a little better, which the impetuosity of the winds had dishevelled. At last Madam, Hipomenes having received orders from Cleonisbe, we did not only see him, but the Bark also came towards us: Yet the Prince of Phoceus durst not advance before he had received the answer of Hipomenes. But as soon as he understood that the Princess Cleonisbe was coming to take him into her Bark with the Princess Onesicrite, Aristonice, and all of any quality in his ship, he commanded to row in all haste toward her Bark, ordering that all the Fleet should veil Bonnet and wait until he had received Orders from the Princess unto whom he was going: And to express a great reverence of her, he went in the boat of Hipomenes that he might the sooner wait upon her, and show his confidence, so the Cockboat went from our Ship unto the Bark which was coming towards us.  
But I beseech you Madam, fancy a little what kind of object it was unto him to see this guilded Bark with a magnificent Tent, and waving Flags, in comparison with his Sea-shattered ship, weatherbeaten with Tempest, all torn except the Poop, on which stood the Image of Diana. 'Tis true, his Deck was adorned with three admirable persons, who by their beauty and garb were able to please any beholder. Indeed, Aristonice by the majesty of her aspect; Onesicrite by her rare beauty; and Menedorus by the handsomeness of his person were able to strike admiration into any: But Madam, to let them alone a little, I must speak of Cleonisbe, and tell you that she was all our wonder; so as when we came first unto her Bark, we were not able to judge of her excellencies. Since she was all Curiosity to see those whom she was to save, she advanced a Pace out of her Tent before the rest of the Ladies with her, and we easily discerned which was she before she was named unto us. Fancy Madam, a great person, whose high and noble stature was so majestic, as one should conceive Penthesilea to be: but Fancy withal, that though she had the stature of that fair and young Amazon who died by the hand of Achilles, yet she had not her fierceness. But on the contrary, she had so much sweetness, and so many Charms in her Aspect, though her mind was high, as it might well be said, that as one could not love her without fear, so one could not fear her without love: Since never any had so many charms, so much modesty, nor more beauty: Yet Madam, do not fancy Cleonisbies' complexion to be of the dasling whiteness, which often hides many a fault, or at least lessens them. On the contrary her Complexion was black; but such a black so uniform and lustrous, as was the perfectest beauty in the world: As for her hair, it was of that colour which suits well with all Complexions; neither so hard as the blackest hue, nor nor so yellow as some, but the lovely curling brown which sets off the beauty of her that owns it.  
Moreover, Cleonisbe hath the most pleasing uniformity in her face that is imaginable: It cannot be said her face is oval, or that it is round; but such a just proportion of parts as both those kind of faces can give unto an exact beauty. Her mouth was the handsomest that ever eye beheld; for it was not only well made, and her lips were not only that lovely Carnation which animates beauty, but it had an unexpressible Charm, which would persuade you, though you looked only upon that part, that she must of necessity be eloquent, and that she had abundance of wit, there being such a kind of little Dimples at the corners of her mouth, and such a kind of sprightly smiling and melancholy together, which always appeared, and forced every one to believe what she said.  
But, Madam, now I have made an imperfect description of Cleonisbe's Stature, Mine, Complexion, Hair, Face, and Mouth; how shall I describe her Eyes? yet since I am engaged to describe them as well as I can, I must tell you, that they are black, great, sparkling and sweet, indeed they are so sprightly quick, so wondrous modest, and so sweetly passionate, that they inspire love in the very hearts of all Beholders: Moreover, they are not such Eyes as use to a certain tumultuous stirring in them, as will not suffer one to judge of them because they are continually changing Objects. But on the contrary, though they be very quick and lively, and though she have most penetrating looks with them, yet are they all sweetness and tranquillity: Whatsoever she looks upon, she looks upon it applicatively, and without abandoning her extreme modesty which is inseparable from all her Actions, she never casts her Eyes off those who speak unto her, and by consequence doth suffer one, to look and admire those million of Charms which are in them: for indeed there appears in them a miscellany of Wit, Spirit, Love, Languishing, Modesty, Passion, Vivacity, Virtue, Goodness, Mirth, Melancholy, Beauty, and Charms. So that, Madam, if you join such Eyes as I have described, unto all the rest of her Superlative Excellencies which I have related, unto such a buxom Plumpness as usually is in youth, you may easily believe that people who had three days of tempest together, seen the Image of death about them, were pleasingly ravished to see the admired Cleonisbe on the Deck of her Bark: I cannot think that those of the Isle of Cyprus, who saw Venus in that Magnificent Shell which was both her Cradle and her Ship, did more admire her, than we Cleonisbe. She was that day dressed after the African mode: to wit, her hair half loose, part whereof was braided with Ribbons of lively Colours behind her head: her Gown which was of Carnation and white was of a very pleasing Fashion and Gallant, which without hiding the Comeliness of her stature was very Majestical: The Clasps of this Gown was Lockets of Diamonds, all before, and likewise about her shoulders: Her Sleeves were half turned up, and showed the hair hands and arms of the wearer, as well as her Neck about which was a rich Carcanet of Diamonds covered with a thin Tiffany. To add something more of Gallantry unto this little Maritine Triumph: Round about the Tent in which Cleonisbe was, were set green boughs whose Odour reached us before we came unto the Bark; there might be seen a thousand branches of Orange Trees full of Flowers, mingled with branches of Myrrh, Jessemine, and such as making a Canopy over Cleonisbie's head did perfume the Air. This miscellany of Leaves, of Flowers, of Diamonds, and other rich Ornaments, did make a most admirable and pleasing Object.  
In the mean time; though we were very attentive in beholding Cleonisbe, yet we observed that there was many handsome Ladies with her, and among the men there was one who seemed to be of high quality, both by his port and by his habit; and also by the Carriage of Cleonisbe towards him. I beseech you, Madam, pardon me for being so tedious in relating how Cleonisbe appeared unto me the first time I saw her: I will now acquaint you with Passages in the Bark of Cleonisbe, and tell you that the Cockboat going before us, as soon as it came near enough for the Prince of Phoceus to see and be seen, he saluted her with all possible Reverence: After which Hipomenes carrying him into the Bark, he carried him unto this Princess, who received him with much Civility. You see here, Madam (said he unto her in Greek) an unfortunate Prince, who gives you hearty thanks for keeping all the people of a great City from perishing: For I am most confident that it is your presence which calmed the incensed Waves, and caused the storms to cease which would have ruined us. And, Madam, after my thanks for saving the lives of so many miserable Souls and innocent Persons, I beseech you out of your goodness preserve them, by obtaining from the King your Father, an entrance into his Ports for our weatherbeaten Ships, that he would be pleased to lend an Ear unto the cause of our Exile▪ unto a relation of our miseries, that he would afford us some comfort in our extremities, and fulfil the promises of a great goddess. Sir, replied Cleonisbe, I am so glad to find an occasion of helping the miserable, especially such unfortunates as yourself, that I have much ado to say, I am sorry for your diasters, since they give me a fit occasion of doing you a good office, and of letting you know, that our Nation is not so barbarous as it is believed to be.  
In the mean time, since I understand by Hipomenes that there are Ladies in your Ship, I bseech you let us go and take them into my Bark, since a place wherein they were like to have perished cannot be pleasing unto them: And when we have taken them in, you may send orders unto your Fleet to shelter themselves amongst these Islands, until I have presented you unto the King my Father, and obtained your desires from him; for let me tell you Sir once more, that I do hold it so glorious to do all the good that one is able, as I am confident, that I shall be more joyed in protecting you, than my Protection can be profitable to you.  
Oh Madam (replied the Prince of Phoceus, and looked upon her with admiration) is it possible to find such a person as yourself in the remotest parts of the Earth? Can fame be so injurious as not to make you known unto Greece, and maugre the huge Sea which separates, make you adored? Those who taught me the Grecian Language, replied she, and smiled, did also teach me, that Credit is not always to be given unto the flatteries of your Nation, and therefore waving your Commendations, I will hear no more of them from a man who questionless is most knowing in all things, since he is of that Country, where the ignorance that reigns in ours, is banished.  
After this, Cleonisbe seeing the Prince of Phoceus his ship was near, she commanded her Bark to meet, and entreated that man of quality who was with her, whose name was Bomilcar to go and receive the Princess Onesicrite, and Aristonice, and to bring them to her. So as Bomilcar, obeying her with much joy, he was also at this time very hasty in his obedience, and went to present his hand to Onesicrite: But since that Princess would have Aristonice go first, out of her reverence to the Goddess whom she served, Bomiclar did lead her: so as Menedorus did help his adored Princess out of the Ship, and so they went unto the Princess Cleonisbe, who was talking with the Prince of Phoceus: Aristonice at her going out of the ship did safely lay up the statue of Diana, and committed the care of it unto some trusty men: And the Prince of Phoceus sent orders that the Father of Menedorus should command the fleet in his absence. It is not an easy matter madam, to relate the reciprocal admirations of Cleonisbe, Onesicrite, & Aristonice: Nor can I verbatim relate the speeches of these excellent persons: therefore I beseech you Madam dispense with me, and imagine them. For my part, I was so surprised to see Cleonisbe, and so astonished to hear her speak, that I could not choose but think, she had been either at Athens, or Corinth, or Delphos, or Thebes. I perceived also, that her politeness had communicated itself unto almost all about her, and that most of the Ladies with her had nothing of barbarism in them. Bomilcar also had the Air of an ingenuous man, and of a great soul, so as being all wonder, I admired and looked, and looked and admired, and said nothing till we came unto the shore.  
In the mean time, I observed one amongst the Ladies, whose name was Glacidia, whom Cleonisbe preferred before all the rest, and addressed her talk unto her when she commended the beauty of Onesicrite, or when she talked of Aristonice, and I perceived also that the Lady was of no mean merit. And I had also time enough to observe the agitation which was in the Prince of Phoceus his heart; and to observe that, Bomilcar perceived it as well as I did: I heard him say unto Glacidia in a low voice and smile, that considering how this stranger doth gaze upon Cleonisbe; it is to be feared that after he hath escaped the Tempest, he will be shipwrecked in the Port. If such a misfortune fall upon him (replied Glacidia, and smiled as well as Bomilcar) I suppose the conformity of your fortune will move you to contract a friendship with him. Oh Glacidia, replied he, you know very well that sympathy in such miseries as these, do never make the sufferers to love one another. Thus Madam, I understood that Bomilcar was a lover of Cleonisbe, but I could not then discover whether he was well or ill treated; because Glacidia taking notice that I might understand them because they spoke Greek, she turned towards me, and desired me to tell her in short the condition of our fortunes.  
In the mean time, the nearer we came to the shore, the more pleasant the Country seemed, for amongst a thousand several Trees, whereof the Country is full, one might see upon the right hand great sterile Rocks, which made the fertility of other places seem the greater. There was also on the same hand, a mountain whose bottom was full of stately Pines; and upon the top which was very steep, stood a Tower of an irregular structure, which as ancient as it was, yet was it a great ornament unto that side of the Country.  
On the other hand, the Country was very plain, yet mingled with little hills, valleys, Rocks, Meadows, Fountains, Rivers, and a hundred pleasant inequalities of different Situations, which made the houses built there very delightful. Moreover, one might see abundance of Olive trees Pomegranate trees, Mircles, Laurels: and all their Gardens full of Oranges, Gessimines, and a thousand other delightful varieties; I do not think any Country more pleasant, or where the Sun produceth more sweet Spring-times, longer Summers, richer Autumns, or shorter Winters. The heavens are always clear, the fruits are always good, their Seas are full of fish; and the hunters do find such abundance of Game, that be one of what quality or humour one will, there is enough to give full satisfaction.  
But to return again into the Bark, out of which I wandered to make this description: Give me leave to tell vou Madam, that as soon as the Bark was in the Port, we saw many Cabins of Fishers along the shore side, and many houses dispersed about the Country, whose prospect was limited by far-off mountains, on the tops of which might snow be seen, though it seldom or never falls in the place where we landed. The Princess Cleonisbe having many Coaches waiting for her by the waterside, she desired the Ladies with her to go into some of them, and to make room for us, that we might go some thirty furlongs unto a Castle where she left the King.  
But as soon as we were all landed, we heard upon a sudden a great noise of horns wound by men which were hunting, and we saw a great crew of Hunters, which though something barbarous, yet was pleasant, and something of magnificence: All the Dogs had great Collars of silver studded with gold: The Footmen had every one a kind of shell, which they call trumpets, and which they use in stead of horns, which made a noise as shrill as the Tritons before Neptune. The Horsemen had Bows, Arrows, and Javelins; and for their habits, they were mixed with such variety of lively colours, as could not choose but much take the eye. Every one then turning towards the place from whence these Hunters came, we saw one who seemed to be the master of all the rest, and who leaving the multitude which followed him, he came straight towards the Princess Cleonisbe, who told the Prince of Phoceus that he who was coming towards them was the Prince Carimantes her Brother. She had no sooner said so, but the Prince alighted from his horse and came to her, and we saw him to be extremely handsome, and not above four and twenty years of age. When he was near enough to discern those who were with Cleonisbe, he was surprised, especially when he discovered the great Fleet Yet he was not long in his wonder; for the Princess Cleonisbe presenting unto him this brave, but unhappy company, who had put themselves under her protectiou: as happy as your Chase can be (said she unto him and smiled) I am sure mine upon the Sea is more, and you have not enjoyed more pleasure all the day, then doubtless you will have, in helping me to negotiate unto the King in behalf of these excellent persons which you see here, and whom I beseech you to protect. Onesicrite being as fair as any eye ever saw, she had so attracted the eyes and mind of the Prince Carimantes, as he hardly knew what Cleonisbe did say unto him. 'tis true, he did as much as if he had heard her, for he was so full of civilities unto Onesicrite, the Prince of Phoceus, Aristonice, and unto Menedorus, that they had reason to be very well satisfied.  
However, since that place was not fit for any long discourse, Carimantes carried Onesicrite unto Cleonisbies' Coach, telling the Prince of Phoceus, Menedorus, and myself, that we should go on horseback with him; for having at all hunt many spare horses, there was as many as we stood in need of: so that as soon as the Prince of Phoceus had waited upon Cleonisbe unto the Coach where Onesicrite already was, and that Bomilcar had waited upon Aristonice; and that the Coaches began to go, they all took horse and followed: The Prince of Phoceus all the way did talk with Carimantes, and acquainted him with the desolation of his Country, the fortune of their Arms, the greatness of their Conquests, the resolution of the Phocean Inhabitants; the command of the Goddess which is adored at Ephesus; the storm we endured, and the meeting with the Princess Cleonisbe, who understood the same things from Onesicrite more particularly than she had them from Hipomenes. Though the way was not very long, yet I observed Bomilcar to have much spirit: A spirit so full of activity, as one might see by his physiognomy that he was possessed with more than one violent passion. He asked me a hundred indifferent Questions, & enquired very narrowly concerning the Phocean Prince: Also I asked Hipomones all that my curiosity did prompt me unto, hoping that since he was a Grecian, I might have all good Offices from him: and amongst the rest; I asked and desired him to tell me who Bomilcar was? Sir, said he unto me, he is a man so considerable in this Court, that he is looked upon as the man who only put an end unto the War between the Carthaginians and the Segoregians: For being a very potent man in his own Country, it was by his negotiation doubtless, that those two Enemy-Nations are at this time in peace. I beseech you, said I unto him, is not Bomiclar originally of this Country? No, replied he, the proud Carthage is the place from whence his Father had his being.  
After this, passing from one discourse unto another, I understood that the King of the Segoregians had no other children but Carimantes, and Cleonisbe; and I understood also that I was not mistaken, when I believed Glacidia was much in favour with Cleonisbe; for he told me, that she did very much esteem and love her; adding, that she very well deserved this happiness, because she made use of Cleonisbes' favour only to do good offices unto all well qualified men. At the last Madam, we came unto the Castle where the King was, which was one of the most Princely seats which ever I saw, a seat which had a hundred delicate Rivulets and pleasant Meadows about it, and a Prospect of so vast an extent towards the Sea, that one's eyes could find no other limits but their own weakness, which would not permit them to discern beyond the confines which Nature had prescribed unto them: In coming to it we saw a great Walk set on both sides with Laurels, above eight hundred paces long. We passed through a long ascent railed and ballistred, planted in order with thousands of Orange Trees, iutermixed with Pomgranets and Citrons, which pleasing more than one sense at once, did perfume the Air in which we breathed. We saw also in the midst of a Garden an admirable spring of water which Nature had cast into an excellent figure, and which did rise in a murmuring noise, and fall again into a little River in a Meadow behind this Garden. We observed also in coming to this Castle, that all the walls of the Court were covered with Myrtle; and that there was a rare border of odoriferous herbs behind the Castle, where one might see Arbours of Laurel, Fountains and Rivers in most admirable method. But our greatest wonder was, the magnificence within this stately house, and particularly in the King's Chamber: Truly Madam, though it was not adorned either with Pictures, or hung with Sydonian Tapestry or Purple; yet what we saw was much more rich and glorious than any that ever I saw: For Madam I beseech you imagine this Chamber to be the height of the house, and one of the most ravishing objects that ever any eye beheld. The walls and roof were enameled with a kind of irregular Arabian work all of mother of pearl and Coral: The bow of Heaven had not more splendent colours then the reflection from the mother of Pearl: and being mingled with Coral of all colours that nature ever produced in the Ligustique Sea which is not far off, it made the most beautiful object in the world. For some being white, some black, some flame-colour, some Carnation, some Rose-colour, this Miscellany is impossible to be described: And therefore not to insist long upon it, give me leave to tell you Madam, how the King of Segoregians received us.  
Cleonisbe being of no less excellency of judgement than spirit, she sent before to acquaint the King with her adventure, as soon as she landed, to the end he might not be surprised: when we came into the Hall of the Castle, Carimantes presented his hand unto Onesicrite, who now could not let Aristonice go before her, so that Bomilcar did lead her. As for the Prince of Phoceus, he presented his hand unto Cleonisbe, who most obligingly told him, that since the Prince her Brother would present Onesicrite unto the King, she would do him that good office to present him. As for Menedorus, he gave his hand unto Glacidia. Since the King did understand the Grecian Language as well as Carimantes and Cleonisbe, he was most sensibly moved at what the Prince of Phoceus said unto him; after that the Princess his Daughter had presented him: for though his Speech was but short, yet he told him all our misfortunes, and in few words did so explain them as the King might most easily understand and remember them, he made choice of such apt words to express our miseries as the longest and most Eloquent Oration in the world, could not work more tenderness in the hearts of Auditors. To be short, Sir (said the Prince of Phoceus unto the King at the end of his Speech) you see hear a company of miserable men, whom fear of servitude hath forced to forsake their Country, who have not one foot of ground to tread upon unless you give it them, or unless they usurp it; a weather beaten people, loaded with sorrows, who have nothing but our liberties and hopes of your favour: nor could we ever hope unless the Princess Cleonisbe had promised to be our Patroness and Mediator to you, and also obtained the same favour for us from the Prince Carimantes. Thus, Sir, upon you depends our Destiny, since if you do not permit us entrance into your Ports for our Fleet, we have nothing else to do but die patienly. As the King was ready to answer, Aristonice began to speak: Sir, said she unto him, give me leave to tell you in all due reverence, that this Tempest which hath cast us upon your Coasts, hath given you an ample occasion to show your Virtue in receiving us: It was a great Goddess who did conduct us hither; who desiring to have a Temple erected unto her Glory in your Country, and to be known amongst your people, hath commanded me to do what I have done.  
Take heed, Sir, of incensing her by rejecting those who are unfortunate, who as miserable as they are have in their Ships inestimable Treasures, since they have there a great number of Virtuous men, men full of wisdom and knowledge, excellent Artists in all things, who have all the Arts and Sciences in their Ships, which they can impart and communicate unto your people: if you will be pleased only to allow them some Corner of your Country, to build a Temple in, and to enjoy that liberty which hath cost them their Country. Once more, I advise you to beware how you refuse those Favours which the Gods do offer you, and know that the Goddess whom I adore does promise you by me, to make your Country so famous over all the World, if you receive us favourably, that it shall excel all other parts of the World. Aristonice spoke this with so good a grace and so much authority, that all the Company were much moved, and especially the King; And he answered the Prince of Phoceus and Aristonice with all imaginable sorrow, and presently consented that their Fleet should enter into his Ports, upon condition that there should be but a certain number of armed men in every Ship: And as for giving them a place to inhabit, he told them, that he would assemble the Sarronides and confer with them.  
In the mean time, he would permit them to hope for a favourable answer. Since, Madam, this word Sarronides may perhaps be a stranger to you: I think it requisite to tell you that the Sarronides amongst the Gauls in general, are very like unto the Magis in Persia, with this difference that the Magis meddle only in matters of Religion, and the Sarronides in civil matters and particular differences. This sort of Philosophers, Priests, and Magistrates altogether were first instituted by the third King of the Gauls, named Sarron, who would after his own name have them called Sarronides: yet there were some part of the Gauls where they were called Dravides; because in the Reign of one of their Kings, called Druis, he would have them called so. They also are divided into several orders, and into several names, for those who do officiate in Sacrifices, are called Vaces: Those who study the knowledge of natural things, are named Eubages, and those who are appointed to sing the Heroic Actions of virtuous men, are called the Bards. As for those who bear the name of Sarronides, or Druids, since they are the most knowing of all, they are called as I said before, unto the Council of Kings to render Justice, to teach the people, and particularly to instruct the youth. 'tis true, that among the Segonigians all these several names are not used, as they are amongst the Celtique Gauls the Belgic Gauls, and amongst the Allobroges which are other Gauls: But the name of Sarronides only amongst this people, doth comprehend them all.  
The King then having referred this business unto his Council which was composed of these Sarronides: The Princess Cleonisbe seemed to be well satisfied therewith, assuring Onesicrite that those men who taught humanity unto others, would advise the King her Father as she should desire, promising her to solicit them in the business. Carimantes for his part did promise the same: Afterwards the King talking one after another with the Prince of Phoceus, Aristonice, Onesicrite, and Menedorus he was so extremely well satisfied with them, that he could not choose but give them great Commendations. Moreover Madam, we were so happy in pleasing all the Court, as I may well say, never strangers were so little strangers as we were there: for we found such earnestness to do us good Offices, that there is great reason to believe it was the act of the Gods to dispose all hearts unto our good reception.  
In the mean time, the King thinking these storm-shattered people to be in need of rest, he commanded that the Princess Onesicrite should be carried unto a fair Chamber next Cleonisbies'; and that all the rest of the Ladies with her should be lodged as conveniently as might be, as well as the Prince of Phoceus and Menedorus: Commanding afterwards that all the Fleet should come into the Port which was to little to contain them all: You would wonder, Madam, if I should tell you how careful Cleonisbe and Carimantes was, to see the King obeyed: for it is hardly credible, that persons of their Quality should be so officious unto strangers whom they knew not; Indeed they gave such express Commands unto all the King's Officers to wait respectively and magnificently upon these persons, as it was apparent their Merits and Misfortunes did much move them unto Compassion. Glacidia for her part was so full of obliging Acts both towards Onesicrite and Aristonice, and all the rest of their Company as I saw Hipomenes had good cause to tell me, that she deserved the favour of Cleonisbe: for she was so full of all goodness & spirit both, that she purchased much esteem from the Prince of Phoceus. One passage happened that night, which since made it evident that the Gods resolved that the Prince should in a short time get much love, much esteem, and much friendship, amongst all these persons who knew him so little, yet in a little time after loved him so much. For, Madam, be pleased to know that as soon as the Prince of Phoceus knew, Cleonisbe was gone unto her Chamber, he went thither to present his first visit and was accompanied with Menedorus: Whilst Carimantes also went to see Onesicrite, the first time accompanied with Bomilcar. For my part, I followed the Prince of Phoceus, and was a witness of his long discourse with Cleonisbe: In going thither, I acquainted him how Glacidia was Cleonisbes' Favourite, and from that time he was very careful to speak such things of her as might be pleasing after much other discourse, wherein he did very much commend her, and said, that he had observed her to be a person of much spirit and goodness. Oh Sir, said she unto him, do not judge so soon of Glacidia; for I do assure you, that in so short a time you cannot judge of her without much Injustice: since it is not possible, be as ingenious as you can be, that you should know all her excellent Qualities. I assure you, Madam, replied the Prince of Phoceus, I am confident she hath all she can have, since you love her so well. That reason is not very convincing (replied Cleonisbe very modestly) but to let you see that though I live amongst a people whom the Grecians called barbarous, yet that know who are of merit, I must describe Glacidia unto you; I shall not speak of her Person since you know it already, nor shall I tell you, that I do commend her most for her beauty, though as you see, she is fair, pleasing, and of a 〈◊〉 stature: nor shall I acquaint you with the graces of her wit, nor the inexhau 〈…〉 treasure of it, because I will hereafter hear her Elegy from your own mouth: Neither will I tell you how she has a thousand Excellencies which she never vaunts of, and which out of her modesty she hides: but let me tell you that her Birth is very Noble, and that never any was more solidly generous, nor more truly good: The Quality which I must love in Glacidia is, that she is capable of a most tender and constant friendship, and that never any woman living had a Soul less biased and interested than hers. Though her Fortunes have met with many Rubs, yet she armed herself with such an invincible patience, as merits the Commendations of all the wise.  
In the mean time, her own perplexities did never cause any perplexities in any other; for she knew so well how to closet up her sorrows in her own heart, that they never appeared either in her eyes, her actions, nor her words: but on the contrary she is continually of such an even temper, as that she seems to take delight in every diversion, even when her heart doth throb the most. Moreover the virtue of Glacidia is neither severe nor savage: and though she seem to be the most serious person in the world, yet none is more knowing in all matters of gallantry than herself: But the quality which I most applaud in her is, her justness even to her greatest Enemies; For she will commend them when any occasion is given, with as much earnest sincerity, as if they had never disobliged her.  
Furthermore, I must acquaint you Sir, that if ever you become one of her Friends, you may be sure that none dare give you half commendations in her presence; for she is so sensible and zealous in behalf of them she loves, as she thinks they are never enough applauded: She cannot endure any Raillary upon her Friends: and I assure you, there is not any one in the world has a greater number of them then she: For since Fortune had carried her into the Court of the King of Celtes, where she continued a long time, and that she hath been since in many several places, I can assure you, she got friends in all of the best sort: And believe me, replied the Prince of Phoceus, her merits never got her any whom she esteems more than yourself: 'tis true, replied Cleonisbe, that is her error; but I am confident that if her quality were above mine, as mine is above hers, she would love me as she doth. Grandeur would never change her, but she would be as just to me as I am to to her. She is so reserved (added she) that if I had not used a little violence upon her, I should not have got her unto this recreation; for she affects home better than the tumults of a Court, which she cannot endure but for my sake. You represent Glacidia so advantageously Madam, replied the Prince of Phoceus, that I must needs think her loved by all the world: And so she is of all that know her, replied she, but yet I assure you she is not prodigal of her friendship, though she be ungrateful unto none; for she is very full of acknowledgements, and hates ingratitude as much as marriage, unto which she has a strange aversion. Since you do love her Madam, replied the Prince of Phoceus, she has need of a grateful soul, if she will acquit herself of such an obligation: But Madam, I beseech you give me leave to beg a pardon in behalf of all Grecians, for the wrong they have done unto your Nation in calling them barbarous, because for aught I see they are barbarous themselves in saying it, especially if they saw you. No no, replied Cleonisbe, do not unjustly accuse them, for I must confess we are so, and I must for my own glory confess it; since if I do merit any commendations, it is only because being born in a Country from where all knowledge is banished, yet I have some glimpses and inclination unto all excellencies. But for you who are of that Country where all minds are cultivated with care, where ignorance is a crime, where Politeness is general, and where their discourse is neither gross, nor stupid, nor rude, how is it possible you can accustom yourself unto a Court, wherein are so few sociable persons? You see (added she and smiled) that in a short time you have purchased a great share in my good opinion; since one while I tell you that you shall not find us so barbarous as we are believed, and since now I confess that we are more than is believed. Oh Madam, said the Prince of Phoceus, those who can speak as you do, cannot be barbarous; I am sure all Greece would confess it, if they had the honour to see how you excel them in all things.  
As the Prince of Phoceus was saying so, Carimantes entered with Onesicrite, who would not stay until the morning without a visit unto this Princess in her Chamber: And Glacidia entering with her, chance did so contrive it, that she did sit next the Prince of Phoceus, who fell insensibly to talk with her in a low voice, whilst Cleonisbe talked with Onesicrite, and he told her that Cleonisbe had made such an admirarable description of her, as he could not think her Glass could more perfectly represent her face, than she had the beauty of her sold and mind: I make no question replied Glacidia, but the Princess can make an excellent description; but I have great reason to doubt whether that Picture which you say she made, do resemble me; for as those are not the best Painters who make pieces like, so I think without offence unto the Princess, that she hath so striven to make Art correct Nature, that she hath done mine not well. But for my part Sir, who have no greater skill in that excellent art then to imitate what I see, I could draw her picture better than she mine. To know that, replied the Prince of Phoceus, you must let me see it; for I think, that I am already so well acquainted with Cleonisbe, that I am able to judge justly.  
Doubtless you know her beauty, replied Glacidia, and some part of her mind: But Sir, it is impossible you should know the height of that merit which is in that excellent Princess; and therefore that she may be esteemed by so excellent a man as yourself, I will do her so much right as to acquaint you with such things of her as you cannot know without the expenses of a long experience: It's not enough replied the Prince of Phoceus, to tell me what she is, but I beseech you let me know how she came to be what I see she is? Oh Sir, replied Glacidia, you must ask that of the Gods, and they will tell you, that Cleonisbe is a most singular person. Chance hath sometimes brought into this Court, men that are well qualified from all parts of the world; and since the Peace which Bomilcar hath made with the Carthaginians, there hath been many men of that famous Town amongst us. But yet for all that, since the natural Genius of our Nation is Warr and hunting, I do assure you that Cleonisbe doth merit the glory of that politeness which is in her, since the glimpses only of her mind have enlightened all the Court: believe it Sir, you will never see any whom she cannot imitate: and on the contrary, you will find, that those who have any sparks of goodness, have them only out of their designs of resembling or pleasing her. The truth is Sir, she is obliged only unto herself for what she is, and by prodigy has more divinity than ever was taught her, and all the virtues were born with her. When I say all the virtues, I say it without any diminution, for I am confident she has them all without exception. I cannot express my delight to hear you speak this of her, replied the Prince of Phoceus; for I do protest, lovely Glacidia, I am already so much devoted unto the glory of that Princess as I should exceedingly grieve to discover any fault in her: I assure you, replied she, you shall never grieve at that, for I am most confident you will never find any. The truth is, Cleonisbe is generous in the highest degree of generosity: She loves glory above herself: She is pitiful, even so far as to disturb her own tranquillity to procure it in others: She is all goodness, all tenderness and sweetness, and yet her great soul is most heroic and courageous. Moreover, she speaks with as much judgement as wit, and with as much eloquence as judgement; her very tone and accent doth express part of her goodness; for she hath such a kind of feeling and passionate sound in her words, as makes it evident her heart is neither fierce nor proud.  
Furthermore, though amity be a quality which is seldom found in persons of her birth and condition, yet it is not so with Cleonisbe; for she does so closely love those whom she thinks worthy of that honour, as I must needs commend her for it above all things in the world: The truth is, she is none of those who thinks their quality may dispense with the true laws of friendship, and that equality ought always to be in the minds of such as love truly: But on the contrary: Cleonisbe thinks herself obliged to love as much as any other loves her: she permits one to chide her if she fail in any point of true friendship: And she knows so well how to put a difference between the King of the Segoregians daughter, and Cleonisbe, that one cannot sufficiently admire her. Moreover, though the temper of this Princess be something inclinable unto melancholy, yet no person upon Earth had a sweeter Jocundry of mind then, she, nor who better pleased those unto whom she was freely pleased to communicate herself; and she knew so well how to turn any thing which she saw or heard in a witty and pleasant manner, as I do not think any in the world could be more knowing merry than she.  
Again, she is liberal after so noble a manner, and knew how to make her choice with so good a grace, that her gifts never moved any to murmur, but such as were unjust or envious. As Glacidia said so, Bomilcar who was next her, and partly overheard her, because her zeal made her louder than she intended, he came and told her in her ear, for heaven's sake Glacidia (said he unto her) let time make known unto Cleonisbe, a man who I fear knows her too well already. This saying of Bomilcar causing Glacidia to laugh, he was moved to grumble a little: But as she was turning again towards the Prince of Phoceus, Cleonisbe began to talk unto her, so as their discourse was for that night interrupted, and presently after, every one returned unto their Chambers. But Hipomenes & I did not part so soon; for since by speaking Greek, we came to be acquainted, and to know that his Father and mine had been old friends, we found many occasions of discourse. But since I knew how much it concerned us to know the state of that Court wherein we were, especially considering we hoped for a Sanctuary in it, I carried him unto the Chamber of the Phocean Prince, who being very importunate with him to know things, he satisfied his curiosity. You come hither Sir (said he unto him) most opportunely to see this Court in its greatest glory that ever it can be, and also to see it in the greatest disorder, if the Gods do not give order unto things; for Sir, you must know that the Segoregians have a custom which is peculiar unto themselves; which is, that the men do never make choice of those they are to marry; but it is the women, who make choice of their Husbands: and by the Laws of the Country a Father is never to force his Daughter. The same Laws do also require, that the Daughters of their Kings should have the same liberty which others have, and that when they have accomplished the age of eighteen years, they are to make choice of their Husbands, provided they be of Quality proportionable unto their own: Insomuch as since it is not above two months before Cleonisbe be at her age fit to make her Choice, all the Grandees in the Kingdom, and also of our Neighbours which can pretend unto that honour, are here at this present, amongst which Cleonisbe must make one happy, and all the rest miserable. For, to be open to you, Bomilcar who has a most extreme ambitious soul, is extremely in Love with her: A Prince of this Country named Bretomartes is the like: and another Prince amongst the Celtique Gauls no less than he, whose name was Galathes, so as in all likelihood these three Rivals will divide the Court. In the mean time, we are all Feasts and Diversions in expectation of this grand Feast, which must be so sad unto many.  
Whilst Hipomenes was thus talking, the Prince of Phoceus did hearken with as much attention as if he had been already interested in the choice which Cleonisbe was to make. I beseech you, said he unto him, is it not guessed whom the Princess will make choice of? No Sir, replied Hipomenes, for she has thus long lived in such a way as makes it believed that she cannot choose any to her satisfaction; but on the contrary seems to be very melancholy since she sees the time of her election draw nigh: Yet certain it is, that since she is much obliged unto Bomilcar, it is probable she will make him her Choice: For the truth is, he hath behaved himself most gloriously both by Land and Sea, in the service of the King her Father. It was by his only means that the Peace was made between the Carthagenians and us: His Father was also the cause of another Peace, which gave name unto the Princess Cleonisbe; for having concluded the Peace by his wisdom, it chanced so that the Segoregian Queen being brought to bed that day of the Princess, the King to confirm the alliance between these two Nations, did give her two names, to wit, the one of her Country, which was Giptis, and the other of Carthage, which was Cleonisbe. But since the last of these was more agreeable than the first, she would always be called by it, so as the Carthaginians are still more obliged by it. Bomilcar was much joyed that the Princess would bear a name of his Country: But as for her Sir, I do not think she loves any thing but glory; and though she has the free liberty of her Choice in herself, yet she will choose none but whom the King would have her. And it is visible that Bomilcar, Britomartes, and Galathes, do as much Court the King and Carimantes, as they do Cleonisbe: Also they are very obsequious to please Glacidia; but to speak the very truth, all their endeavours that way are to no purpose, for she fancied none of their Counsels. Since there are abundance of people about the King, replied the Prince of Phoceus, I doubt you cannot hint unto me which was Britomartes, and which was Galathes. The first of these replied Hipomenes, is a great black man, and handsome, who has a surly and prod Garb, who stood behind the King when you talked with him: And Galathes was he who had a gold chain fixed to the pommel of his sword, which was a lion of the same mettle, who is of a middle stature, whose hair is fair, the air of his Countenance very sweet, and his Garb noble. If these two Rivals of Bomilcar replied the Prince of Phoceus, have minds suitable unto their bodies, and hearts as high as their Garbs, I conceive they have all three great cause both to hope and to fear: Certainly replied Hipomenes, they are all three persons of great minds and courage, though they do not resemble each other.  
Britomartes is a man of courage, honesty, and wit, but there is a mixture of Gaulish roughness in him which does not please. As for Galathes, doubtless he has a great heart, but subtle withal, and I believe that Gaul is able to overreach a Grecian, he is pleasing civil and full of flattery: and though his aspect doth promise all the sincerity which is attributed unto his Nation; yet certainly he is one that doth least discover his thoughts. But as for Bomilcar Sir, it may be said, that if some of his ambition were taken away, there would be no fault left in him, for he was as valiant as any could be; He is generous, and a most zealous friend; he is liberal and civil; he is most exact in performance of all his promises, striving to be above his promise. He is a man of great wit, his frequency in the world, his travels and his natural Genius made him able to speak admirably well. But yet for all that, the activity of his temper being joined unto two most violent passions, did make him perpetually restless, so as he was not able to stay long in any place, unless with Cleonisbe or Glacidia, whom he esteemed very much: Your character of Bomilcar replied the Prince of Phoceus, makes me think him fit to be preferred before the other: Yet I am sure, replied Hipomenes, that he is in great fear not to be chosen. After this, since it was very late, we left the Prince of Phoceus, yet he would not go to bed until he knew that our Fleet would not depart from the Isles until the morning, and then they came into the Harbour a little after the Sun was up.  
In the mean while, since the beauty of Onesicrite had most sensibly touched the heart of Carimantes; and since for her sake he was zealous in the protection of this Phocensian Colony which had forsaken their Country, he no sooner knew that Cleonisbe was awake, but he went unto her Chamber, to desire her, that since she was in favour with the chief of the Sarronides, she would go unto him before the King had consulted with him, and know of him whether these strangers were to be received or no, and to persuade him to let them inhabit in the Land.  
Since Cleonisbe had observed that the beauty of Onesicrite had extraordinarily pleased Carimantes, she looked upon him and smiled: methinks, said she unto him, that in lieu of bidding me go to the chief of the Sarronides, and negotiate for an entertainment of these, you had better have bid me negotiate for a stay of that fair one only, whom you gazed upon yesterday with so much admiration. Indeed Sister replied he, I must ingenuously confess, that the greatest part of my compassion upon those miserable strangers doth proceed from the admiration I had of Onesicrite, whose beauty I confess hath surprised and charmed me. But you may we ay think (added he) that I am not desperately in love with her in so short a time, or at least I think so: yet I must confess unto you, that I do already love her so much, that I cannot endure a person of her quality and beauty, should after a tempestuous storm at Sea be reduced unto such extremity at Land, as not to know where to inhabit. And therefore since my admiration doth beget so much pity in me as that I cannot rest I conjure you to do as I desire: And I do protest unto you, I am so desirous to effectuate this design, that I wish with all my heart you were as compassionate of the Phocean Prince and his misfortunes, as I am of Cleonisbe and hers: As for matter of compassion (replied Cleonisbe, and smiled again) I assure you that I am as inclinable to it as you; but I would have it of another nature than yours, which is caused rather by the greatness of Onesicrites beauty, then by the greatness of her misfortunes. However, I beseech you believe, that I have so much pity as willingly to consent unto your desires: And in my opinion, it would be advantageous unto the King, that men so civilised as these whom the Sea has cast upon us, should qualify the rudeness of this maritine People which inhabit along this Coast.  
Carimantes being of a hot composition, and full of impatience, he told the Princess his Sister that Time was not to be delayed, and therefore something must be done immediately; adding that the King must not know that she had seen him whom they intended to employ in the business: So that upon a serious examination of the business, they resolved that Cleonisbe should send for Glacidia, and desire her to go unto this chief of the Sarronides, who dwelled one part of the year at that Tower which was built upon that Mountain which I told you we saw upon the right hand as we came from the Isles unto the Port. But because Carimantes would have Onesicrite and the Prince of Phoceus know what they did for them; he contrived it so by the means of Hipomenes, that I should go with Glacidia to be a witness of what she said: so that after she had received her instructions from the mouth of the Princess, I went along with her in her Coach without any other company but one woman and two footmen, and came to the foot of that Mountain which as I told you was full of Pine trees. When we came there we must go on foot, for the Mountain was so rocky and uneven, that a Coach could not pass: But to avoid the inconveniency of this rugged way, we found horses to carry us a footway out of the wood and better half of the mountain, whose ●op was so steep the horses had much ado to climb it: so that Glacidia alighting from the Horses, we went the rest of the way on foot, which was not so difficult as one would imagine it, by reason of a pair of stayrs in a Rock which makes the rise more easy, there being at several distances little houses sustained by pillars, wherein those who climb the Rock may rest themselves in a shade. Thus going by this odd kind of way, I helped Glacidia to climb; who talked to me so pleasantly, that I climbed this mountain, and never looked back, though it be a natural action in all that climb, to look down upon a place from whence they came: so as since we never rested until we came unto the last of these little houses, which was not above twenty Paces from the Tower, it was only there where I enjoyed the most pleasant prospect in the world.  
The truth is Madam, I do not think that a sweeter object was ever seen then from the height of this mountain: For imagine you saw a most admirable Port in which was a most prodigious number of Ships; and to render the Prospect more beautiful, imagine a vast number of Cabins, which seem a long and large City wherein Fishers inhabit along the Sea side: Beyond which is a most pleasant Country; On the other hand are the three Isles whereof I spoke, which please the eye exceedingly. A little more on the left hand, one may behold barren Rocks, and a County so wild and savage, as if one were in a Desert a hundred thousand Furlongs distant from any habitation, but turning on the other side, one may behold all opposite objects: A Country as fertile as the other is sterile, and as pleasant as the other is wild. One may behold Gardens full of Oranges, Meadows, Hills, Valleys, and all that can make a country delightful: beyond which, might mountains be discovered afar off, which seemed to be so piled one upon another, and in such fantastical figures, that they much pleased the eye, and did limit the prospect that way. And look but towards the Sea, and it is very delightful, because it is continually full of Fisher-boats.  
I beseech you Madam, pardon my tedious description of this pleasant Mountain, where I stayed for Glacidia; and to repair my fault, I shall not trouble you with any thing I saw in the Tower which served for the habitation of him unto whom we went, whom we found ready to go unto the King, who had sent for him.  
This grave Sarronide, whose wise and serious looks had a mixture both of grandeur and pleasingness in them, did receive Glacidia with all possible civility, and sufficiently testified by his expressions that he much esteemed her. But after the first Compliments were over, and Glacidia had presented me unto this sage Sarronide; after she had in few words declared our misfortunes, and had told him the reason why Cleonisbe had sent her unto him, she joined her persuasions unto her prayers, and used such Rhetorical arguments, that though his soul had been of the most flinty composition in the world, she would have melted him into pity of so many miserable people. Do not think (said he unto her, after she had spoken her mind) that all your words were needful to persuade me unto what the Princess desires: For I do profess unto you, that as soon as ever you began to speak, I was resolved to do what you desire, but I must confess I took so much delight in hearing you, that I could not find a heart to impose silence: and indeed I was glad to receive instructions from you, that I might the better know what arguments to use unto the King, and persuade him unto what you desire: Oh Father, replied Glacidia (for so out of reverence she termed him) do you not fear to puff one up into a vanity of conceit by speaking thus? You Sir I say, whose words are all sincerity? No, replied he, never fear it, for I am so well acquainted with the solidity of your virtue, that I fear no such weakness in you. However, you may assure the Princess that I am so infinitely joyed to receive such commands from her, as I can obey with much delight: Tell her further, that I am abundantly satisfied to see her so sensible of the miseries of poor unfortunate people, for humility and compassion are Qualities so hard to be found in persons of her Rank, as I cannot enough admire and honour her for it. And therefore Daughter (added he) I advise you contribute all your endeavours unto the cherishing of such a noble and laudable disposition in her, omit no occasion of commending her for it or any virtuous quality: and also be sure you blame her boldly and home, when you discover any obdurity or inhumanity in her: The truth is, you cannot do her better service, then to infuse pity into her soul: I know very well, that Cleonisbe needs none of these precepts; yet I am such a professed Enemy unto all such as are not sensible neither of public nor private misfortunes, that I do every day tell myself as much as I desire you tell Cleonisbe, lest I should insensibly become not compassionate enough. And therefore (said he, and turned towards me) do not think I would have Glacidia exhort Cleonisbe unto any goodness because she wants it; but know that I do it only, because I am persuaded that Princes & Princesses can never have too much of virtue and goodness. For to be just unto Cleonisbe, I believe she has all the virtues in a high degree; and that her compassion extends itself so far, that she never knew any unfortunate person whom she did not pity and help also, if she could. After this, Glacidia confirming what he said, I added what I conceived might be advantageous unto the Prince of Phoceus, the Princess Onesicrite, Aristonice, Sfurius, Menedorus, and all the Fleet in general. Thus Madam, our business being well dispatched, we returned unto the Castle to give an account of your voyage unto the Princess Cleonisbe, who sent immediately unto Carimantés to tell him that the chief of the Sarronides was pliant unto his desires, appointing me to acquaint the Prince of Phoceus, and the Princess Onesicrite what she had done for them.  
In the mean time the progress of our business was not so suddenly resolved upon: For the King being desirous to assemble many Sarronides to consult upon such an important business, it could not be concluded until the expiration of eight days: not but that he had already conferred with that old wise Counsellor with whom Glacidia had spoken, yet he would not absolutely determine any thing before he had assembled the Council, with whom he used to resolve upon matters of great consequence. In the interim, he treated us exceedingly well, and received all the persons of any Quality which were in our ships, when the Prince of Phoceus presented them unto him, especially Sfurius: In so much, Madam, as therefore being an infinite number of persons in our Fleet, all the Fisher's Cabins were full of Greeks, who being very desirous to be entertained in so good a Country, did so flatter up their Landlords, and recompense them so liberally for every thing they took, that the People did much forward the King in his Resolutions, and to say that he must let us live in their Country, which we should make much better than it was: For our ships being much better built than theirs, our Arms handsomer and better wrought; they said that we should better them in their Arts, and teach them the use of Olives, whereof that Country was full, and which they yet used only as an ornament: so that in eight days all the people were so desirous to have us dwell in their Country, that they said aloud, If they would not permit them, they would put fire unto their Ships, and hinder them from going away. But the thing which most prompted them unto this resolution, was a report that there was a great Goddess who assured them they should be favourably received, and that on the contrary, if they did not receive us, they should be involved into all manner of misfortunes.  
In the mean time, this Castle of the Kings being near a great Town, all our persons of any quality were conveniently lodged: And Madam, whereas it is the custom of all strangers to conform themselves unto the habit of that Country where they are, it was not so with us: but on the contrary, in three days the whole Court was got into the Grecian mode: For there being in our ships men of all professions, there needed no more time to satisfy the desires of the Prince Carimantes and the Princess Cleonisbe, to leave the habit of their own Country and take ours, which indeed did become them much better than their own. However, during the eight days which the King took to give a definitive answer, the Court was full of Pleasures and Diversions: In all which Aristonice had no share; for she with her two Companions employed all the time in prayers unto the Gods to move the King's heart; so as having caused the image of Diana which she brought from Ephesus to be put in her Chamber, she was continually at her Devotion whilst we were all at our Pleasures.  
'Tis true, the Prince of Phoceus and Menedorus, did not relish their Pleasure with a full gust; for the first of these felt love to grow in his heart; and the second began to be jealous to see how earnest Carimantes was to please the Princess Onesicrite. Bomilcar also, perceiving that the Prince of Phoceus looked upon Cleonisbe, like a man who was in love with her, had some restless disposition to wish that the King would not permit us to live in the Land. Yet he was so generous as not to wish our ruin, for I do believe he was fearful to incur the displeasure of Carimantes and Cleonisbe, if he had negotiated any such thing.  
On the other side, Carimantes having discovered that Menedorus was in love with Onesicrite, and also observed that she did cast a favourable eye upon him, was vexed to the heart, that he could not retain the person which pleased him, unless he retained the person also which displeased him: But in conclusion, seeing he could not lose the one, but he must lose the other also, he chose rather to endure the sight of Menedorus, then to lose the sight of Onesicrite. As for Cleonisbe, she took abundance of delight in the conversation of the Phoceus Prince, and in the company of so many pleasing persons who were with Onesicrite, and thought herself infinitely happy to see in her Father's Court so many men so qualified, as she fancied all complete men ought to be.  
As for Britomartes and Galathes, they thought upon nothing but how to be chosen by Cleonisbe, when the hoped for time was come; for though the last of these perceived as well as Bomilcar that the beauty of Cleonisbe had reached the Prince of Phoceus his heart, yet he never feared a weather beaten Prince whom a tempest had cast into the Court, could ever prejudice him: Thus he knew that he had a Rival, and was never troubled at it: And I assure you Madam, that Bomilcar and Galathes were not so much perplexed to discover that the Pr: of Phoceus was in love with Cleonisbe, as the Pr: of Phoceus was at his being in love with that Princess; for he was extremely restless when he heard all the Sarronides were come, and that the next morning would be the fatal time of the King's positive resolution, whether they should be entertained or excluded the Country: When he first heard this news, he was with Cleonisbe, whom he courted very assiduously during all these eight days; and he was then with her without any other company but Glacidia, who acquainted the Princess with the coming of the Sarronides; and I understood from that discreet Lady how the Prince of Phoceus hearing that he was to receive his doom the next day did blush exceedingly; Also I understood from her, how extremely his heart was perplexed when he considered, that perhaps to morrow he should be for ever banished from his adored Princess, in whose sight he took such infinite delight. This thought did not only beget a disorder in his heart, but it forced him to discover some part of his thoughts. It is to morrow, Madam, said he unto her, that must make me either happy or miserable, when I shall either have a Country which is dearer to me then my own, or shall be a vagabond, and a fugitive: But more than that, I must have the happiness to see you all the days of my life, or the misery to lose the sight of you for ever. And truly Madam, if the last of these be my fate, I shall complain against the compassion which you have had of so many miserable people; and shall be sorry that the Port unto which you brought us, was not a Rock to split our whole Fleet, and so disable us for a departure from that Country, where something is to be seen, which doubtless cannot be seen in any other place of the world: Do not think Madam (said he unto her) that it is the purity of your Air, your Sun, your Oranges, your Pomgranats, your Laurels, your Myrtles are such from which I should be sorry to be banished: No Madam, these are nothing, but it is from the divine Cleonisbe, who cannot be found in any other place of the world; It is she only that my soul cannot depart from, without a sea of sorrows. I am very sensibly obliged unto you Sir, replied Cleonisbe, for preferring me before so many excellencies which beautify our Country: and for that the obligations which you think you have unto me for affording you some assistance, should move you unto so much friendship to me: I assure you I accept of your esteem very kindly, and wish with abundance of Passion, that the King my Father would do as I would, were I in his place, and which truly I believe he will. Truly Madam, replied Glacidia, you need not doubt it; for I believe your mediation and the Prince Carimantes will so work, that there will be full satisfaction unto the Prince of Phoceus. I pray unto the Gods it may, replied he, yet I cannot choose but fear it, and shall be in a restless impatience until I know the King's resolution, assuring you Madam (said he unto Cleonisbe) that I never desired any thing in my life with so much zeal as I do, to continue in a Country which is so dear unto me. Oh Sir, replied Cleonisbe, your expressions are above belief; for I am confident, that if a ship should at this very hour arrive from your own Country, which should bring you news that your Conquerors are conquered, that your Country is out of servitude, and that you might safely return unto Phoceus, you would return thither with joy, and leave us very willingly. Oh Madam (said he) I cannot be so generous as you imagine me; the love of my Country is not so much in my heart as you believe; Yet it is both natural and just to love ones own Country best, replied Glacidia; and to tell you truly, it is to be thought that a Prince who seeks for liberty by such a dangerous way as this you take, does prefer his Country before all things else whatsoever.  
The truth is, replied he, that when I came from Phoceus, I had such thoughts as I ought to have, and such as you think I have; but it is also more true (if there be any difference in truth) that I am now a Phocencean or an Asian Greek, but all my thoughts run upon your Oranges and Myrtle trees.  
If any of us Gauls (replied Cleonisbe, and smiled) should chance to be driven by fortune either into Asia or Greece, I am sure our Civility and Complacence would not be so great as yours but we should prefer our own Country before all the world. However, added she, I perceive we love so well to be flattered, that though we know all obliging expressions are not positively true, yet we give them a willing hearing: and certainly there are many truths which are nothing so pleasing as this obliging untruth which you now tell me. If what I speak Madam be not a truth, replied the Prince of Phoceus, then there is no truth in the world. Since none are brought to unspeak those Praises which they give in speaking unto the person whom they praise, replied she, I will not press you any further to confirm this pleasing untruth by adding another, or that you should unspeak it: And therefore I will believe, that since you have left none in Phoceus, and since all your friends have followed your fortune, you look upon the place where you see them as your own Country, where ever it be. I must confess Madam, replied he, that if all the persons who were here; or if you please in the Isle of Cyprus, which is the most pleasant in the world, I should not then speak as I do: Glacidia knowing very well, that Cleonisbe would be very glad that this talk were broken off, because she did not love to be commended to her face, begun to avert it handsomely. Methinks, said she, that what the Princess hath said deserves much consideration, and that her distinction deserves some inquisition. For truly, I would gladly know whether this affection which every one has unto his own Country, be caused by those who inhabit in it; or whether it be the Land, the Sun, the Air, the Sea, the Rivers, and the Towns which so ties them unto it: and whether it be the living Country (if I may call it so) or the inanimate Country which moves this great tenderness to it? I know very well (added she, and addressed herself unto Cleonisbe) that to speak in general, these two things are joined together; but since it appears by the example of the Phocean Prince, that Fortune hath separated them, since all the Inhabitants of Phoceus are here, and the Town of Phoceus where it was, I would gladly know whether if he found an habitation so good and convenient as it was, he would desire to return into his native Country; for if so Madam, than it must be concluded, it is not only his Kindred and Friends which makes him love his Country, but it is as well the place itself where he was born, as they.  
For my part (replied Cleonisbe) I am persuaded that there is a genius, a natural instinct which draws us to affect the places of our Nativity, as well as the persons which inhabit there: And that our Air, our Sun, our Sea, and our Land are more really our Country, than our Kindred, Friends, and fellow-Citizens: For truly, our Kindred die, our friends do often fail; our fellow-Citizens are often wicked men, and sometimes our Persecutors: But the other things which I named before, they never change for us, and we ought never to change for them. So I conclude, that though to speak of a Country in general is meant, an assembly of People who live in the same Land, and under the same Laws; yet the most indissolvable part of a Country is the circumstance of place, and not of persons, because the one may change and be dissolved by strange accidents, but the other can never alter; for the same Sun which gives Rubies to your Pomgranets, and guilds your Oranges, the very same Sun shines upon them, and will eternally.  
Your argument's Madam, replied the Prince of Phoceus, are very good, and full of wit, yet my experience tells me it is not so always: For I do protest that if I could obtain liberty to dwell here, I should never lament the loss of my Country, nor that stately Town I quitted, ot any thing else which makes such a Country as this unalterable.  
For my part, said Glacidia, I am not of your mind; for there is such a sympathy betwixt my Country and myself, that I would defend it in every thing, thinking if I should live any where else, I should never live at rest; not that I could easier part with my Friends then from our Oranges: but my meaning is, that the Princess hath great reason to say, that we are tied unto places as well as Persons; and that a native Country is to be preferred before any other though more pleasant. I should be extremely ashamed, replied the Prince of Phoceus, to entertain thoughts opposite to those of a Princess so wise in all things, and unto a person so judicious as Glacidia; yet I am so far from being ashamed of an opinion which is good, that methinks I merit some honour for making myself a way so extraordinary, and for not being capable of such a kind of love unto ones Country, as to be tied unto Rocks and Forests.  
As the Prince of Phoceus said so, Bomilcar entered, unto whom the Princess did put the same Question, not telling him her opinion, nor Glacidias, nor that of the Phocean Prince; so as he studying how to answer so as might concur with his thoughts of the Princess Cleonisbe: For my part Madam, said he unto her; I am persuaded that one does naturally love the Land where one was born, and that the Air Suits best with their Constitutions, and I believe also, that the sympathy is so strong, that nothing can quash it, unless some violent passion, as ambition, or love. Then according to your rule (replied the Prince of Phoceus faintly) one cannot find any happiness in a strange Country, unless some reason of ambition or love do break those bonds which tie them unto their Country. I am so confidently persuaded of it Sir, replied Bomilcar, that whensoever I see any stranger forget his Country, and not to grieve for being out of it, I always conclude him to have one of those two passions in his heart. Bomilcar had no sooner said so, but Cleonisbe blushed, and the Prince of Phoceus observed her; so as seeing the change in her face, he was much joyed at it, imagining that she applied the words of Bomilcar unto herself: so in lieu of contradicting him, he extremely approved of what he said; Yet it was in such a facetious way, as one would really have thought that he had no secret design in concurring so easily unto a thing which he might so easily have opposed. So that Madam, Bomilcar unawares was the first who caused Cleonisbe to suspect that her heart had some sparks of love for the Prince of Phoceus: And the first also who gave his new Rival an occasion to make her guess at his Passion who was the causer of it.  
However, after he was retired unto his Chamber, he began to think that Bomilcar had good reason to say nothing was so fit to make one forget his Country then to fall into love in a strange Country: his apprehensions of it was so strong, that he could not sleep, yet his reason did muster up all its forces to oppose this growing passion, but it was grown too strong already to be overcome. What a fondness is it (said he unto himself, as he told me afterwards) to be so desirous of dwelling in a place where I find so dangerous a person as Cleonisbe? were it not more wisdom to depart from it as soon as ever I could, and by shipwreck to quench those flames which scorch me, then hopelessly to expose myself unto all the torments of Love? Is not Cleonisbe within these two months to make her choice of him whom she pleaseth to make so happy; and can I be so far out of my wits as to think she can choose me? me I say, a despicable exile who has neither Country, nor a house to dwell in; who never did her any service, nor can scarcely be admitted to dwell with her. What then should I do, living in a Country where I must sadly see her I love, enjoyed either by Bomilcar or Britomartes, or by Galathes? and yet not dare to murmur at it? For what right have I to oppose their Pretensions? No no, I have none, and therefore if I be wise, I will depart from a place where I can never be happy, and save the King of Segoregians a labour of consulting with the Sarronides: But dost thou think of departing, wretched man that thou art, added he, when as thy heart tells thee thou art inseparably tied unto the divine Cleonisbe? Why, whilst thou thinkst thou hast some sovereignty over thy soul, thy desires revolt, thy will mutinies, and thy heart prompts all thy thoughts unto rebellion. Thus Madam, did the Prince of Phoceus strive to resist the inevitable power of Cleonisbes' charms: But as I told you, his Passion was grown too strong to be quelled. But on the contrary, it did the more increase by the resistance of his Reason, and he waited until the next morning in a restless impatience, which would not permit him to take any rest: Carimantes for his part was no less impatient than he, did as zealously wish that Onesicrite might stay there, as the Prince of Phoceus wished for himself.  
On the other side, Menedorus wished themselves were banished: Bomilcar would not have been sorry if they were, and Galathes would have been glad of it. Cleonisbe would have been angry at it as well as Glacidia: and Britomartes alone was indifferent in the business. Furthermore, though Galathes did not much fear that the Prince of Phoceus could hurt him, though he were his Rival, yet he went to solicit one of the Sarronides, who was to be of the King's Council, and who was much his friend, purposely to oblige him in opposition to the Phocean Prince, suggesting all the reason which might move the King not to receive so many strangers into his Country: so as some soliciting for our stay, and others endeavouring to oppose it, I assure you, opinions were never more divided then amongst all those illustrious persons.  
In the mean time, the hour of the Counsels Assembly being come, Aristonice with her Companions went to speak with all the Sarronides one after another: But in lieu of soliciting them as men who had much power to help or hinder the stay of the Fleet which she demanded; she boldly told them, that it was not in their power to hinder the King from entertaining so many illustrious unfortunate persons, whom the Goddess she adored had sent unto them for their glory, and for the happiness of their Country; and that she came now only to acquaint them, that the first favour she would ask, as soon as the King had received them, should be to give her a place where she might build a Temple unto the honour of Diana. Aristonice spoke this with such a confidence, and so much majesty, that they looked upon her with more respect than before: and since their custom was never to make any great Sacrifice but under Oaks, the proposition of Aristonice did perplex them, fearing to displease the Gods whom they adored, by establishing a new Religion in their Country. But in conclusion, not knowig themselves what opinion they were of, they went unto the King in the Councel-chamber, where the Council was to be held, upon which the destiny of so many men depended: And there was such a multitude of all sorts in the Castle, that there was not one corner which was not full of Phocensians and others. But to strengthen our Cause, all the Fishers which did inhabit along that Coast where we landed, hearing that this was the morning on which we were either to be received or rejected, they flocked in great troops into the base Court of the Castle, and demanded to speak with the King, saying aloud that he must receive us, and that they would never let men who could instruct them in so many profitable things go out of their Country.  
But the Officers of the Guard having desired them to stay unto the end of the Council, this crowd of Grecians and Segoregians mingled together, which made such a hurly burly, were all quiet in expectation of the King's resolution. We understood since by one of the Sarronides, that the King after he had proposed the business unto them, did express unto the Assembly, that he should be exceeding glad (if the good of the State would permit it) to assist so many miserable people, and give sanctuary unto so many illustrious persons as were amongst us; yet adding, that he preferred the good of his people before his own inclinations: & that if they thought it dangerous to receive us, he would endeavour to deny his own desires, and reject us. At the first, opinions were divided: But since the chief of the Sarronides was for us, and being a man of a sound judgement and wit, he brought all to concur with him, except him whom Galathes had solicited. But he, since he had the pretence of the public good to favour the designs of his friend, he made use of it with abundance of zeal against us; and if the chief of the Sarronides had not been as resolute as he was obstinate, we had all been banished. For my part Sir, said he unto the King, I know very well that not to consider the miseries of those who desire Sanctuary from you, and to deny their desires doth seem to be a piece of cruelty: But I know also, that considering the dangerous consequences which the favour they ask might bring with it if consensented unto, there is great reason to deny them: For it is not one particular which demands receipt of you; but it is a huge People, who by their multitudes may become terrible to you, and also by the abundance of good qualities which are attributed unto them; for the more wit and spirit these Greeks have, the more they are to be feared, it not being expedient that your Subjects who are faithful in their simplicity should become more knowing by the conversation of strangers, lest they should grow mutinous. Do you not see already Sir how these Fishers who use themselves only to their Lines and Nets, begin to meddle in matters of State, and will have you entertain these strangers, who begin already to have a share in your authority? Moreover these strangers are Rich, they are a warlike People; abundance hath made them luxurious and voluptuous: and it is to be feared, that those who they say can teach all the Arts unto your Subjects, will communicate the vices of their Country unto them also: Ignorance and Poverty Sir are good properties to make Subjects obedient: and therefore I conceive that those People who can take from your Subjects these two Properties which makes a Sovereign so absolute, ought not to be received without great and serious consideration.  
Moreover, the new Religion of these strangers will either subvert your own, or at least raise abundance of scruples and errors in the minds of your People. And I know not Sir whether they will shake your Throne itself: so that in my opinion, to satisfy the rights of hospitality without any danger to your Kingdom, the best expedient were to permit these Grecians to repair their Fleet, to give them all things necessary for a long voyage, and to let them go and seek a Sanctuary somewhere else; but not to let them inhabit here. This friend unto Galathes was so vehement, that some of those whom the Prince Sarronide had brought unto his opinion, began to waver, and return unto their first thoughts. But this wise and good old man, seeing their minds began to stagger, did answer all the reasons which this friend unto Galathes had delivered. I am not ignorant Sir (said he unto the King) that to consider the business in hand with a biased interest, there is some show of doubt in it: but I am sure to consider the true grounds of the business, and not to be deluded by appearances, there is all the reason in the world to be of my opinion. For Sir, the most ancient of all Laws, and that which ought certainly to be most inviolable, is the law of Hospitality: and I am not afraid to say, that upon some occasions a King may be more culpable in using Strangers ill, then in using his own Subjects ill.  
Moreover, this whole multitude which is used as an argument to hinder your Majesty from being pitiful, is an argument to oblige you the more unto it, since it is more glorious to relieve many than a few.  
But to answer positively unto the objection of Fears which this multitude of persons may cause, I only answer thus, that in comparison of the multitudinous number of your Subjects, these strangers are so few and weak, as there is no reason of any fears in the world: Also being of a Country so far distant from yours, and a Country wherein they have no power, they never dare attempt any thing against you, since they cannot hope for any relief from any part; and since it is a most easy matter for you to suppress, whensoever they shall incense you. Furthermore, since all these Grecians have their whole Families in your Land, it may very well be said, that you have most sure hostages of their fidelity; so as you may with much less danger receive this numerous multitude, then if they were fewer, and had not with them such persons as are most dear unto them, and unable to bear Arms.  
Again, I do admire any one of wisdom should say, that the more wit these Grecians have, the more they are to be feared: and that Poverty and Ignorance are two necessary Qualities to make faithful Subjects. For truly Sir, my opinion is so contrary unto that, as I dare undertake to maintain unto your Majesty, that the greatest care of a Prince ought to be to make his People rich, and to teach them their duty to their King. The truth is, as ignorance will sometimes keep them under, so it will after make them mutiny without a cause: It will make People wilful without reason: It will fit them for tumults and seditions; it will not let them understand their own interests: It will ruin themselves in ruining the State: and for want of knowledge they will subvert Kingdoms, fall off from their duty to their Sovereigns, and also from their duty to the Gods: So as the link of society being once broken between so many persons whom reason should reunite, it must of necessity follow, there will be an universal confusion which is equally prejudicial both unto Princes and Subjects. Believe it Sir, the more wit and ingenuity these Greeks have, the sooner you ought to receive them, since though they produce no other benefit unto your People, but to communicate their wit and ingenuity unto them, it is a great benefit since they will teach them to know their duty. Also by teaching your Subjects so many admirable Arts, wherein they are knowing, they will banish idleness out of the Country, which is the most abundant cause of Revolts. And as to that objection concerning the Fishermen, how they should begin already to meddle in matters of State, I must answer, that this beginning of rebellion, is an argument, one should not give a brutish people any cause to know their own strength; so therefore, though only in this consideration I must conclude it requisite to receive the Phocensians, least by incensing the Segoregians, they should come to know what they can do before they know what they ought to do, which is one of the most dangerous divisions that can be amongst a people.  
Again, as for the vices which are feared to grow out of the abundance of riches; Truly methinks their fears go too far, in fearing lest the greatest good of all goods should sow evil in an age or two, and it would be much injustice to reject men who are eminent in a thousand virtues, only because they fear lest the Riches they bring with them should produce some one vice which sometimes does follow them, but are not always Concomitants: also I can answer, that as Riches and abundance have their vices, so poverty and want have theirs also. As the one makes men voluptuous, the other also makes men steal and kill those that are richer than themselves. Now Sir, as to the business of Religion (added this sage Sarronide) I must tell your Majesty, that though I have as much zeal unto my own as any hath, yet I do believe that humanity is to be found in all Religions in the world; and it were great cruelty to make so many miserable, only because their Religion is different from ours: On the contrary, if we will be indeed zealous in our Religion, we should strive to convert a People who know not the manner of our worship, and to persuade them that our Sacrifices are more perfect than theirs: Thus this argument of Religion which is used to hinder so many illustrious unfortunate People from having a Sanctuary amongst us, is a strong reason why we should grant it unto them.  
Also according to the universal opinion of all the Sarronides, it is not fit for men to judge of things which exceed their understandings. but it is their duty to believe, that since the Gods do suffer men in some places to offer unto them innocent victim, and in other places to sacrifice men: In other places they bring nothing unto their Altars but Flowers, Fruits, and Incense: In some places they build Temples unto them; and in other places they are forbidden to build them, and commanded to sacrifice in woods and hills: And thus it is the pleasure of the Gods to be adored in a hundred several manners. For upon a true examination of the matter, and it being agreed on all sides, that every People do believe that the Gods whom they adore are the makers and masters of Heaven and Earth, it must of necessity be concluded that every People do adore one and the same God under different names, and in different manners: And as there is but one Sun in the whole world for all People, so also there is but one powerful Divinity which is to be adored over all the earth. So Sir, it is to be feared that you anger the Gods, if your Majesty should deny a Sanctuary unto men who gave so many testimonies of Piety, since they came amongst us: so as whether you consider their miseries, their virtues, the good of your People, or the glory of your Majesty, I find it most requisite to entertain these miserable men, and to receive them as a happiness which the Gods have sent unto us.  
As soon as this wise Sarronide had ended his Oration, the King did approve of it exceeding well, and there was no further contest about the business: so that the Council being ended, the King caused the Prince of Phoceus, Sfurius, Menedorus. and eight or ten others the most considerable in their Fleet to be brought in, and told them that he gave them leave to dwell in the Land: and to inhabit in the same place where they landed; this Prince conceiving it most safe for himself to let them live together, and not to disperse themselves into his Dominions, because they would not so easily persuade them unto the Religion of their Country.  
To tell you Madam how joyed the Prince of Phoceus was, and all the Phocensians except Menedorus, is more than I am able to do. Nor am I able to describe the joys of Carimantes, Cleonisbe, Glacidia, and all the Gallants of the Court, except Bomilcar and Galathes. But as their satisfaction was great, so that of the Fishermen was greater: And they expressed it by such shouts of joy, as did let the King know that the chief of the Sarronides had prudently advised him. But amongst all that rejoiced at the resolution of the King, Aristonice was in the highest degree, conceiving herself very instrumental in the glory of that Goddess who had so happily guided us. But Madam, not to be over-tedious in particularising so many useless things unto you, give me leave to tell you, that the next morning the King himself showed unto the Prince of Phoceus the extent of that ground, and the place where he would permit us to build And to begin the foundation of this Town with an action of piety, Aristonice with her own hand did not only measure out the place where she would eerect a Temple unto Diana which was near the Sea side, but also the very place where the Image of that Goddess should stand. As for the Prince of Phoceus, since he ever held Minerva in great veneration having been long at Athens, he set out a place for a Temple to be built to that Goddess: After which the great multitude of workmen amongst us, beginning to work by the directions of the Phocean Prince, one might see that done in a few days which one could not believe feasable in many months. The truth is Madam, the Grecians did work so very hard, the Segoregians did help them so willingly, and all with so much alacrity and speed, that in one month and a half we had built two Temples, and a great Town. That which did much facilitate, the Country, which though very fertile was yet so stony, that all our work was to heap so many stones together as we stood in need of. Moreover, since the winds do often use to beat against that mountain where I told you the chief of the Sarronides did use to inhabit one part of the year; so it chanced that a little while before we came into that Country, the violence of the winds had so beaten down abundance of wood at the foot of this mountain, and wafted the Trees to the shore, that we had nothing more to do but to work them up. You may easily imagine, Madam, that this Town was not so stately built as Babylon or Ecbatan: but yet there was not one Greek who had not a handsome and convenient lodging: There was three public Market-places in this new built Town, which was much more long then large; because having enclosed all the Fisher's Cabins within our Circle, we were confined unto that narrowness. There was also good fountains and an admirable Port; and though its situation was upon a hanging ground, and consequently a little inconvenient, because the streets were uneven, yet it was very pleasant: though the Grecian Architecture was not set out in its full ornament; for since our Aims were only for Lodgings; it may be said that they were Cabins regularly built rather then houses; yet they were very convenient and handsome, and seemed Palaces unto Exiles. But Madam, it was a wonder to see how the Greek did strive to get the Segoregian language, and how earnest the Segoregians were to get the Greek, for they did suddenly so perfectly understand each other, that I do not think there is at this time one of the King's Subjects who does not understand Greek, nor one Grecian who does not understand the Language of that Country where they now inhabit. As for Aristonice, she cloistered up herself within the verge of that Temple which she built as soon as ever it was finished: and not meddling with any thing but her devotion, she lived in a wonderful restraint.  
In the mean time, since the Prince of Phoceus knew very well that it was not enough to build a Town, unless it were governed by good & politic Laws, he began to settle the order of them: and to avoid all envy amongst those who had acknowledged him for their head, he appointed a great number unto the transaction of public affairs, naming the number of six hundred who had determinative voices in Council: But for the dispatch of urgent affairs he constituted a number of fifteen without assembling a general Council; and of this fifteen there was three with whom he advised in matters of secrecy according to occasions. Thus Madam, this Council consisting of six hundred, out of which six hundred was named fifteen, and out of fifteen three, and out of three, one, all which made up but one Authority, was the government of this new Town, whose model I desire to describe, before I proceed with the love of the Phocean Prince.  
Methinks (said Mandana and interrupted him) you have forgot one thing which deserves some curiosity, which is, to tell us whether this Town was called the new Phoceus, or whether they gave it the name of the Country.  
Your question Madam (replied Thrytemes) is more worthy of Curiosity than you imagine, since there happened a very odd passage about it. For Madam, it was never in the power of the Phocean Prince to call this Town Diana's Town, as he intended, but was forced to yield unto a multitude, who had got a custom of calling it Marscilles, having no other reason for it, unless the forming that name out of two Greek words corruptively put together, for the one half of that name in the Aeolian language signifies Fisher, and the other half in the pure Greek signifies to tie: But Madam, to interpret the oddnesse of the thing a little better unto you, be pleased to know that when our Fleet came to this Port, a great multitude of Fishers were got together to see us land: so as the Mariners of every ship casting out their Cables, and knowing them to be Fishers, because they had Lines and Nets in their hands, they prayed these Fishers to tie their Cables unto some stakes which were upon the shore, that they might serve in lieu of an Anchor: so as the two words which they pronounced at landing, that is to say, Fisher, and tie, which in our Language signify Marseilles a little corrupted, they would by all means have called the name of the Town thereafter. However Madam, custom was stronger than Reason, and the People more powerful than the Prince; since being Founder of the Town, he was not able to give it the name he desired; but must permit these two Greek words which had no reasonable signification; be the name of a Town, the government whereof was constituted wholly by reason and Prudence. However Madam, I must return from whence I digressed, and acquaint you with the loves of the Phocean Prince of Carimantes, of Bomilcar, of Menedorus, of Britomartes, and of Galathes, from the time the King permitted us to stay in the Country: And Madam, I must tell you, that the love of the Phocean Prince to Cleonisbe, and that of Carimantes to Onesicrite, did extremely increase; for then looking upon the Persons whom they loved as those whom they should see and adore as long as they lived, their Passions were the more inflamed: But this did kindle abundance of jealousy in the heart of Bomilcar, of Galathes, and of Menedorus.  
Furthermore, the esteem which the Princess Cleonisbe had already of the Phocean Prince, did abundantly increase by acquaintance and the friendship which this Prince had with Glacidia, became so great in a few days, that she did not value Bomilcar who was most in her favour, at a higher rate, than she did him.  
In the mean while, the Segoregian King being returned unto the Metropolis of his Kingdom, which was not above half a day's journey from the place where we landed, he would by all means have the Prince of Phoceus, after he had given all requisite orders for the building his new Town to accompany him, with Menedorus, myself, and many others, Sfurius staying behind as an overseer of the works.  
'Tis true, since the distance was not far, the Prince of Phoceus went thither very oft; but he always made such haste, and chose his hours so conveniently, that not a day passed but he saw Cleonishe, with whom was Onesicrite, betwixt whom was already an intimate love: Most of the Phocensian Ladies did also follow her, so as this Court did flourish as much as any Court in the world. As for the Prince of Phoceus, he was pleasing unto the King, and universally unto all that saw him, as nothing but his merits were talked of, and he became so familiar with the Princess Cleonisbe, that Bomilcar who had been acquainted with her all his life, was not more: 'Tis true, Glacidia did much contribute unto it; for indeed she was a great admirer of the Phocean Prince, and being a zealous commender of her friends, she continually talked of him to Cleonisbe. Yet she did not commend him only unto her; for she had ever a most charitable desire to unite all her friends as much as she could, and to make them love one another, as well as she did; therefore she spoke often of the Prince of Phoceus unto Bomilcar, to the end that begetting an esteem of each other, a friendship might grow betwixt them. But Madam, her good intentions did but half hit; for though they had all imaginable esteem of each other outwardly, yet there was an implacable antipathy in their hearts: And I do not think that ever since love and ambition did make any Rivals, there was ever two who mote tated each other, yet lived so well together as the Prince of Phoceus and Bomilcar: Doubtless the virtue of Cleonisbe, and the prudence of Glacidia did much contribute to the keeping of Peace and Civility between these two Enemies: But most certainly, if they had not both been most excellently accomplished men, they had not agreed so well. However, as soon as we came to the place where the King did ordinarily reside, we found nothing but feasting and pleasures: and since strangers have any where that privilege to be showed all the diversions of the Country, it was unto Onesicrite and the Prince of Phoceus, that the King, Carimantes, and Cleonisbe did show all the delights of the Court: Yet Madam you must not imagine their Feasts to be so magnificent as those in the Asian Courts, nor in the principal Towns of Greece; but for all that, though they smelled something of the rusticity of their first institution, yet were they handsome and delightsome: And the admirable spirit of the Princess Cleonisbe did add much unto their lustre, though in themselves they were but meanly magnificent: For truly their greatest feasts were those of Bulls, of Shepherds, of Fishers, and another which had most of gallantry in it, which they called the feast of Flowers, or the triumph of the Sun: The greatest beauty of the first of these feasts, was to see four or five hundred Bulls of a prodigious bigness, whose horns were painted and guilded who had upon their backs clothes embroidered with a thousand several colours, and about their necks garlands of flowers: So as these fierce animals going two by two, and their natural fierceness being moved by a kind of shrill harmony which those who drive them do make, they make a show so stately, that they move much delight, in passing under the King's Palace, where all the Court are that day. After which, out of a superstition of the Country, they are carried round about the Town, where the People do offer them little bundles of fresh grass; conceiting that if they eat them, they shall have a plentiful harvest, and if they refuse, than not. But this Feast does not end thus; for as soon as these Bulls have gone the round, they choose out twelve of the fairest and strongest of them, and bring them unto a place before the King's Palace where they are baited. As for the feast of Fishers, indeed it is very delightful, as that of the Shepherds; for since they are persons of Quality who make them both, there are a thousand pleasant passages to be seen.  
But Madam, I will not trouble you with a description of them: But as for the triumph of the Sun, I beseech you give me leave to be a little longer in the description of it, because it was this Feast which gave all those whose histories I relate some light to know the thoughts which they had in their hearts. Since we were there at that time of the year when they were wont to celebrate this Feast, we were all the discourse of all the Ladies in the Country: every one wishing that it might be the Princess Cleonishe, who should receive all their honours: For Madam, be pleased to know that since the Sun shines clearer in that Country than any where else, because it is seldom or never obscured by any Clouds, and since there are more flowers there, then in any other place of the world, the Inhabitants do believe it their duty to render homage unto that bright Planet: so that every year they engrave upon certain little shells the names of all the Beauties in the Court, and put them confusedly together into a great Basin inlaid with mother of pearl: After which the King puts his hand into the Basin and draws out one; and the Lady whose name is engraved npon that shell which the King doth draw, is she who is destined to represent the Sun, and to receive all the honours which are done unto that glorious Planet which she represents.  
The day of this Ceremony being come, chance seconding the wishes of all the Assembly, the name of Cleonisbe was found upon the shell which the King drew, so as it was the office of this Princess to receive all the honour of the Feast which was to be celebrated eight days after, as hereafter I shall tell you: Imagine then Madam, that all the great streets in a great Town were all decked up with Garlands of flowers, from the very tops of houses to the bottom, and all the ground strewed with variety of the same flowers, certainly you would conceit this to be a most pleasant object; yet I am most confident you cannot imagine it half so beautiful as it was: However, it being as I tell you, all the Ladies who were not Actors in this Ceremony, stood in the windows which were round about the place where it was to be celebrated, in the midst of which was erected a Throne, over which was a great Canopy, supported by four pillars, decked with flowers, and wreathed with Myrtle: But the most delectable object of all was, that in the midst of this Canopy was the face of the Sun most admirably represented unto every beholder. For my part Madam, I must ingenuously confess, that all I saw this day was so new unto me, and did so exceedingly delight me, as I never in all my life found a more excellent diversion.  
But the hour of beginning the Ceremony being come, I saw the gates of the Palace which joined unto that place to open, and a little Chariot in which was Onesicrite, appeared, who representing Aurora which is always the Usher of the Sun, had garments suitable unto what she represented. Her Chariot and Horses were painted with Aurora colour, resembling the Sun a little before it appear in our Horizon: so as Onesicrite both young and fair, she really appeared more fresh than Aurora itself which she represented, especially in the eyes of Carimantes and Menedorus, who were both of them more in love with her, and more jealous of each other: But after this Chariot had gone round the place, and vanished out of sight, the Chariot of Cleonisbe which represented the Sun, appeared with so much lustre, as I assure you this Princess dazzled the eyes of all the Assembly. And though the brown beauty of Cleonsisbe do not seem very fit for the resemblance of the Sun, yet dark coloured hair did produce the same effect that day, as that dusky Azure doth which is about the Sun, when the Heavens are most serene and clear, and when that splendent Planet is in its greatest lustre; for certainly her hair gave a great lustre unto her. Her Chariot was inlaid with mother of Pearl, and streaks of gold, and done with such art by some Grecian Artists that were employed, as this Chariot by reason of the several reflection from the mother of Pearl and some Topazes which were set in several places, was no less glorious than the Sun itself: As for Cleonisbe, she was adorned with so many Jewels, that her lustre could hardly be looked upon: And to resemble the Sun which she represented, she wore a sun of Diamonds upon her head: In one hand she held a vessel of mother of Pearl full of flowers, as being the chief work of that glorious Star: In the other hand she held the reins of the Horses, whose fineness made worthy to draw the Chariot of the Sun. Cleonisbe being then in such state as I have told you, and the day being as fair and glorious as was possible, that place was an Epitome of the whole world; and she carried herself with such applause, that the Air echoed with a million of acclamations.  
As for the Prince of Phoceus, he was so charmed with the sight, that if he had not already been in Love, he would now. But after Cleonisbe had gone round the place, she left her Chariot at the foot of the Throne which was prepared for her, upon which she ascended by the help of four men of quality who stood at the bottom of the stairs: The dresses of these four men who represented the four seasons of the year were very rich. The first was Bomilcar, the second Britomartes, the third Galathes, and the fourth the Prince of Phoceus: Thus Cleonisbe when she was upon her throne, she saw at her feet four slaves, whom Chance had brought together, and whom love had wounded with one and the same Arrow. But perhaps Madam, you will ask me why the four seasons of the year was represented by men: To which I answer that since there was not one Beauty who would represent Winter, Custom brought it in, that this Feast was represent by four men. However, Cleonisbe was no sooner upon her Throne of flowers, but the great Gates of the Palace being opened, there appeared thirty persons, every one in a several little Chariot, which came gently one after another to render homage unto Cleonisbe.  
But Madam, that you may the better understand the nature of this homage, be pleased to know, that every one of these fair persons represented a several flower which they made choice of according unto their fancies: so as these Ladies to signify the flowers which they represented, had a Crown composed of them on their heads, and another in their hands, their Chariots being trimmed up with the same flowers.  
And to complete the gallantry of this invention, their habits were of the same colours with the flowers which they represented, and every one had a banuer on which was a device suitable: Every banner had a flower printed, and some inscriptions under it: So that Madam, since the season in which they did celebrate this feast, all sorts of flowers did grow at once in that Country, I am confident a more delightful sight could not be seen. For I assure you Madam, these thirty Chariots painted, guilded, and trimmed with flowers, did make a most admirable show; and these thirty fair ones, whose Dresses were both gallant and rich, and all crowned with flowers, were beyond all imagination, admirable.  
The first which came out of the Palace to render homage unto Cleonisbe, was crowned with Orange flowers, the second Roses, the third Jessimine, the fourth Olives, the fifth with Violets, the sixth with Pomgranets, the seventh with Lilies, the eighth with the ninth with Flowers-de-luce, and so with others: so that this lovely Miscellany of flowery Crowns worn by these Beauties, did make a show beyond all imagination delightful. As soon as these Chariots came unto the Throne of the Sun, those Ladies which were to represent the flower, wherewith they were crowned, they prepared themselves to render homage: And presenting the Crown which they held in their hands unto one of those men who stood at the foot of the Throne, offered unto the Sun only such flowers as the season which they represented, did produce. So, since there are Orange flowers in Winter, it was Britomartes who offered the Crown, because he represented that season. It was the Prince of Phoceus who offered Roses, because he represented the Spring: It was Galathes who offered the Crown of Olives, because he represented Summer: And it was Bomilcar who offered because he represented Autumn: For as I have already told you Madam, there is one season in that Country, in which they have all manner of flowers together.  
In the mean time, as these Ladies passed before Cleonisbies' Throne, they saluted her, and tendered unto her their Crowns; and they were heaped one upon another with so much Art, That when the last of these Ladies had offered her Garland, there was such a Trophy of Garlands raised unto the glory of Cleonisbe, all whose flags were set in such order, as the mottoes might easily be read. But whilst all these little Chariots passed before the Princess Cleonisbe, and those within them were doing homage unto her, Music composed of several Instruments imposed silence upon the People, who made no disorder, because the place was railed round about, and hindered them. Nor did the heat of the Sun offend; for this Ceremony was not begun, until it was declining, and moreover the Palace and houses were so high, as they cast a shadow over all the place; and there chanced contrary to the custom of that Country to be some little Clouds that day, which made a shadow, and one would have said that this bright Planet to honour the Feast, had resigned its lustre unto Cleonisbe.  
In the mean while, according as these Chariots passed by, they ranged themselves next the Chariot of Cleonisbe, unto which she went as soon as she had received the last homage of flowers. The four Seasons causing to be carried before her that Trophy of Garlands which were offered unto her: After which these four Seasons did follow her every one in a stately Chariot, entering with her into the Palace Court: so as One sicrite going first in representing the Aurora, the four Seasons followed the Sun, and the thirty flowers the four Seasons.  
After which Cleonisbe went to offer this Trophy of Garlands at a Church which was at the furthest part of the Town, and then returned to the Palace where a Banquet was prepared suitable to the Feast, for it was only of fruits, for the custom was for it to be of no other: Yet was it very admirably set out both with rare and excellent fruits, in great abundance and variety, and in most exquisite order. The banquet being ended, they went unto another place, where I saw the finest show that can be imagined; for indeed Madam, all this glorious Troop followed by all the Court, entered into a great Hall, whose sight surprised me beyond my expressions.  
Suppose Madam, this Hall to have all its walls of flowers, and the roof supported with pillars of flowers so composed as if they were marble; and from the roof a thousand Garlands and Crowns did hang, composed of Orange flowers and Jessemine: Thus Madam was the place adorned where the Ball was afterwards to be kept; and it was late before the Assembly broke up; for since all the devices which belonged unto these Crowns did furnish out with much discourse upon them, all the men did strive according to their inclinations to applaud those which best pleased them: And amongst the rest that of Glacidia, who represented the Amaranthes, extremely taking the Prince of Phoceus, he did highly commend her unto Cleonisbe, and told her that Glacidia had good reason to make choice of that flower which she represented, since she had given such evident demonstration of the constancy in her affection.  
I hope (said Mandana, and interrupted him) that there was none of those thirty Ladies which represented thirty several Flowers, and had thirty several Devices, which you esteemed so little, as to forget what they were.  
Pardon me Madam I beseech you, replied Thyrmetes, If I should have received the honour to have seen you presently after this Feast, I should have repeated them all; but now at thi●● time I can only remember two of them, and I think Glacidia represented the Amaranthes, with this motto, 
 I never Change. 
  
For since this Flower hath that privilege never to lose its beauty nor fade, Glacidia made choice of it to express the lastingness of her love to Cleonisbe, and the constancy of her heart. Then there was another Lady of Quality, whose name was Amathilde, who chose that day a Crown of Roses: She was very young and fair, and had such a▪ conceit of her own beauty as she would often say she would not desire to live but till twenty years of age, upon condition she were the fairest in the world: maintaining very peremptorily, that she had much rather die young, then live long, since she could not live long and be fair. so as suiting her Device unto her humour, and the flower which she represented, it was this, 
 My Reign is short, but beautiful. 
  
Now Madam, I beseech you excuse me for the rest; for the Truth is, I am forced to confess unto my shame, that my memory fails me, though I am sure they were all as full of pleasant wit as these I have named. But to return from whence I digressed, give me leave to tell you Madam, that the Prince of Phoceus beginning to commend Glacidia unto Cleonisbe: Truly Madam, said he unto her, Glacidia is very happy in being loved by one who knows so well how to proportion her love according to the merits of every one: But I must tell you also, that those who are conscious of their own mirth, are very unhappy; for to live without hopes of your esteem, is a most unexpressible torment. Those who are not worthy of my esteem (replied Cleonisbe; and smiled) do value it so little, as it's likely the deprivation of it never troubles them: and therefore you employ your compassion very ill, if you pity such as are no sufferers, and such perhaps as you know not. I assure you Madam, replied he, I know one who has most strange apprehensions and fears of not obtaining this glorious esteem whereof I speak: Then they must needs have an ill opinion either of me, or of themselves, replied Cleonisbe: I cannot tell Madam, replied the Prince of Phoceus, whether or no they have a bad opinion of themselves, but I am sure they have a very good one of you.  
As Cleonisbe was ready to reply, Bomilcar according to the liberty of the Ball, did take her out to dance, which did much vex the Prince of Phoceus; yet it was not long before he had his revenge in the same nature; for after Clonisbe had danced, and Bomilcar had talked a while with her, he took out Cleonisbe to dance from Bomilcar, as Bomilcar took her from him.  
In the mean while, Galathes and Britomartes who had also their Pretensions, did both of them easily observe with what an Air Bomilcar and the Prince of Phoceus behaved themselves in the business, so as equally to hinder both, they both applied themselves unto the Princess, and would not leave her; so as all the rest of that day none of all the four could speak unto her in private. Though the Prince of Phoceus was an absolute Master of himself when he pleased, unless since he was in Love, yet he spoke but very little, fearing lest he should speak too much, and more than he would have either his Mistress or his Rivals to know. But as for Bomilcar, his tongue wasfreer, and he uttered many things, which gave Cleonisbe to understand that he was jealous of the Phocean Prince, though he gave no such language as could anger either her or him: As for Britomartes, who was of a more sincere spirit, and never glossed over any hidden meaning, he set no watch over his words. But as for Galathes, the Prince of Phoceus did easily perceive that he understood Bomilcar as well as him, and that his Passion was not unknown unto him.  
On the other side, Menedorus, he was not without his ingenuities; for the Prince Carimantes having thought Aurora that day to be fairer than the Sun itself, he was continually with Onesicrite, and talked with her with much delight, whilst Menedorus durst not disturb them. Onesicrite, who observed the disorder of Menedorus, had a desire to break of this discourse; but it was not fit she should be uncivil unto the Son of a King, who had given them a being in his Country; so as she being disordered as well as Menedorus, Carimantes perceived that her spirit was distempered in her discourse, and did guests the reason. Yet he had no mind that Onesicrite should perceive he knew the cause of that perplexity which appeared in her eyes and mind, whether she would or no; but on the contrary, desiring to put it off upon some other cause. I perceive Madam, said he unto her, that our Feasts and Diversions do not please you so well as those of your own Country: and I see their simplicity is not witty and gallant enough for your sublime fancy: And Madam, the truth is, you have great reason to complayn against the Lot which is used at this Feast; for indeed it was fit you should have had the place of Cleonisbe. Oh Sir, replyud Onesicrite, you do me the greatest wrong in the world, if you think I am not infinitely well pleased with every thing I see here; and you are extremely unjust to say that I should have the Princess Cleonisbes' place: you would be much more equitable if you would say I did not merit that which I had: For really, Aurora is a thing so glorious, as it may well be said. I had abundance of vanity in me, in daring to represent it: For my part, replied Carimantes, I dare confidently affirm, that if Aurora be as glorious as yourself, she deserves as many sacrifices as the Sun. Nor do I think (said he and smiled) that you would not speak as you do, but because you do not often see Aurora. 'Tis very true, replied Onesicrite, I do see the Sun oftener than I do Aurora, and am fitter to judge of the night's beauty than it. Oh fie Madam, replied Carimantes, cease to be so unjust: And believe as I do, that you are absolutely the fairest person in the world: And believe, I beseech you withal, that there is no man upon Earth does more admire and adore you then I do. I would I could persuade myself of what you speak Sir, replied she: But when I cast my eyes upon so many superlative Beauties as here are, and remember what my Glass shows unto me every day, it is impossible any such pleasing flatteries should add any Joys unto me: So Sir, since I am forced not to believe you, I am extremely sorry that I cannot be what you say I am: Oh Madam (said Carimantes and interrupted her) if you have never any greater cause of sorrow, then at finding yourself not lovely enough, you will be ever the happiest person alive: I wish to the gods you could as well know those who love and adore you, as you may know the Charms which force them unto it: Carimantes pronounced these words with so much vehemence, as it was easy for Onesicrite to perceive that he was Lovesick.  
But since she would return him no answer, and since Amathilde after she had danced, did come and mingle discourse with them: but Menedorus was in such anguish of mind, as it was evident he found no great joy in the Feast.  
In the mean while, Cleonisbe having about her the Prince of Phoceus, Bomilcar, Galathes, and Britomartes, she did so plainly perceive the secret thoughts of their hearts, as that she was much disquieted at them: She observed also, that though there was a great aversion between all these four Rivals, yet the feud was much more violent between the Prince of Phoceus and Bomilcar, then betwixt any of the rest, though she yet observed, that they did infinitely esteem of each other.  
Moreover Glacidia, whom she called unto he, did know all this as well as she did. Thus this feast of Flowers did much increase the Loves and Jealousies of all these Rivals, and made all their thoughts known unto Cleonisbe. But since it grew late, all this fair company broke up, every one carrying with them several thoughts.  
Moreover Madam, as it is the common course of the world to see a miscellany of Joys and sorrows succeeding each other, News was brought the next morning that the Salic Gauls which bordered upon the Segoregians,, and had taken Arms under the pretence of a War with the Tectosages, had now made an eruption into their Frontiers, and had possessed themselves of a very considerable Castle: Insomuch as the King having no Army in readiness, was a little surprised at the news. Yet since the Gauls are all even born Soldiers, there needed no more but to assemble so many men together, and to have a well-composed Army. Furthermore, the Prince of Phoceus desiring to embrace so fit an occasion of testifying his Zeal and Courage here, did offer the King all the Grecians in his new built Town; telling him it was but just, that those men who had their beings from him, should expose their lives in his service: And indeed, the King having great hopes in our succours, because we were better armed then his Subjects or his Enemies, did accept of the of●er from the Prince of Phoceus, at which neither Bomilcar, Galathes, nor Britomartes was very glad.  
In the mean time, since the time of Cleonisbes' choice of a Husband did draw nigh, they could not believe that the Prince of Phoceus was or could be in any capacity of being chosen, nor that the Princess herself durst choose him, though she had a mind unto it. For the truth is Madam, though the Law do give her the freedom of her choice, yet commonly they never choose any but by appointment.  
But not to insist too long upon this, let me tell you Madam, that the Prince of Phoceus had such a desire to serve the Segeregian King, as he left in Marseilles, only old men, women and children, forcing all the rest of what profession or quality soever they were, to take up Arms and follow him, though their new Town was not yet quite finished.  
Furthermore, the King, Carimantes, Bomilcar, Galathes and Britomartes mustering all the men they could, the Army was very considerable: But since we were better experienced in military Arts than any of them, except Bomilcar, the Prince of Phoceus got great reputation in the first Council of War, wherein also Sfurius and Menedorus did worthily acquit themselves.  
But Madam, because I will not be too tedious in particularising a War which lasted not above fifteen days; give me leave to tell you, that the Army marched towards the Enemy: That the King regained the Castle which the Enemy had taken: that he repulsed them; & entering into their Country, he forced them to beg conditions of Peace which themselves had broken: For the natural Genius of that Nation is, to be soon appeased and soon incensed: and those who ground great hopes in their divisions, do often find themselves mistaken. However Madam, give me leave to tell you, that the Prince of Phoceus did miracles, such as got him the reputation of one of the most valiant men in the world. Bomilcar also carried himself so excellently as the Prince of Phoceus did much esteem him; but this esteem was so far from lessening the aversion which was between them, that it did the more increase it: Britomartes also and Galathes did signalise themselves: Carimantes and Menedorus did fight like men that would have Fame speak loud of them unto Onesicrite: And I assure you Madam all the Princes returned back unto Cleonisbe with abundance of glory; And she herself did gallantly tell them when they returned, that though Laurels were very plentiful in her Country, yet she did not think there were enough to make so many Crowns as they deserved. However, maugre the aversion which was between the Prince of Phoceus and Bomilcar they spoke very worthily of each other, and did equal Justice unto both their virtues. But as for Galathes, whose thoughts were different from theirs, and thought it not fit even to commend a Rival, he spoke not one good word of them, but turned them all into Commendums of the Prince Carimantes.  
As for Britomartes, he was more sincere, and spoke of things according to his knowledge: Also believing that he should be the man who should be chosen, because he was of that Country; As his hopes were more, so his jealousy was less: But that which was the greatest advantage unto the Prince of Phoceus, was, that the King did really think himself indebted for the happy success of this War, not only unto his peculiar valour, but also unto the valour of his Troops: And the very truth is, every one of them had such an earnest desire to testify their acknowledgement unto the King who had given them a harbour, that they did things beyond all imagination; And he spoke so advantageously of them unto Cleonisbe, as she thought herself obliged to look kindly upon the Prince of Phoceus, and tell him of it: But since never man living was in a higher degree modest, which is an infallible mark of heroic valour, he reverently rejected those applauds which she gave him, and gave her others in such a passionate way, that she repented she ever began to commend him, though she did not repent of her esteeming him, but on the contrary did esteem him much more. But Madam, give me leave to tell you in the first place; that since our return to the Court, there grew so great a league of amity betwixt the Prince of Phoceus and Glaoidia, and between Glacidia and Bomilcar, that it may very well be said that Cleonisbe did not love her better than these two Rivals did; and that she loved Cleonisbe no better than she loved them: One might also say, that Fate had a design to have it so, for a hundred several chances happened which did so oblige them all unto it, as they could not deny their friendship without ingratitude. By this Madam you may imagine that unless she had been a woman of extraordinary prudence, she could never have long continued a friend unto two men who were both Rivals, Enemies, and of ambitious spirits, who wished both of them for the same things, and who thought they could never be happy but by the ruin of one another: yet Glacidia did carry herself so exceeding well between them as she never had the least squabble with either of them: And the truth is, she was so exactly faithful both unto them and unto Cleonisbe; that though she knew very well what the Princess thought of the Phocean Prince, of Bomilcar: and though she knew what those two Rivals thought of each other, and also knew the passions of their souls, she never told any thing but what might contribute unto their safety, satisfaction, and glory; carrying herself so exactly even, that she never gave any of them any cause to suspect she had any thoughts which she concealed: And I assure you, that but for her, there had been some fatal Quarrels between two men in whom both love & hatred was so high. But they were both of them so respective of her, that when they met with one another at her house, they were as civil unto each other as if they had been very good friends, yet had they much ado to be all of one mind: but the Prince of Phoceus was so much master of himself when he pleased, that he would by no means quarrel publicly. I remember one day above the rest, I had an opportunity to observe this Antipathy between these two Rivals: For Madam, be pleased to know, that Glacidia being one so ill that she kept her Chamber, much good company came to visit her; and amongst the rest Amathilde of whom I spoke before, she was there most of the afternoon. I know Madam, you have not forgot how I described her to be both young and fair, and that it was she who was crowned with Roses upon the Feast day. And that she had such a great conceit of beauty, as that she thought one not fit to live after the loss of it, and consequently that one should not wish to live long, unless one had a particular privilege to be both old and fair. But before I relate the discourse which did evidence the aversion which caused such jealousy and love in the hearts of these two Rivals, it is requisite that I make a more particular description of Amathilda unto you: and that I tell you, she did not only think none aught to live longer than they were fair; but also she was in the humour of those who because they are not above sixteen or seventeen years of age themselves, do think four or five and twenty to be old age: and who are so blinded with their own youth, that they speak of those who are five or six years elder than themselves, as if they were people of another generation; that such can have no shares in beauty, and that they can pretend no farther unto it, then to say they have been fair. However; Amathilde was extremely lovely, and few of the greatest beauties did excel her youth.  
Now Madam, I must tell you, that Amathilde coming to visit Glacidia, as I entered, I was a witness of this discourse which I am to relate. She was no sooner entered, but Bomilcar entered also, and being exceeding tender of Glacidia's health, he asked very earnestly how she did: But Amathilde not giving Glacidia so much leisure as to answer, told Bomilcar that since the sickness of Glacidia had not altered her complexion, certainly she was not very sick, and consequently not much to be pitied: For my part (said she in her frolic humour) I always measure my compassion according to the alteration which I find in the faces of my friends when they they are sick: and therefore since Glacidia has no yellowness nor paleness in her Complexion; her eyes not shrunk, nor her looks melancholy: and since she has no symptoms of a languishing sickness, let us endeavour rather to divert her then to pity her; for my opinion is, a little pain which does not take away ones beauty, nor ones plumpness, is not to be overmuch condoled. Yet there are some pains, replied I, which are short and violent; and which though no great danger in them, yet deserve some compassion, because they are painful. However it be (said she) what I said is my opinion: When one hath as much to lose as you have, replied Bomilcar, certainly they must needs fear such sicknesses, as in one night may blast more Lilies and Roses in a complexion, than a whole Spring can bloom. For my part (said Glacidia, and interrupted them) I think there needs no more to cure Amathilde of the love she has unto her own beauty; but to wish her only eight days of such a sickness as has no name unto it, which without any great pain or grief will by degrees make one lean, or become yellow or green, and make one's eyes shrink in their heads; their lips look pale, and cause such a sudden alteration, as the fairest would quickly become ugly. Oh Glacidia (cried she out in a pretty fury) you put me into a most terrible fright, and methinks you have given me this disease by wishing it, and I do already perceive something which makes me change colour. Amathilde at this saying did rise up, and looked upon herself in a glass to see if what she said was true, though it was only to set her hood in a little better order: After which, sitting down in her place again; Thanks be to the Gods (said she unto Glacidia) your wish has not yet taken any effect, nor I hope ever will: but to prevent any more such wishes, know cruel Glacidia, that if ever such a misfortune fall upon me as you wish, I shall think I only receive it from you; for since I never had any sickness but once, I think my constitution so sound and healthy as I cannot believe any one under poisoning can hurt me: But I beseech you, replied I, did that sickness which you had work any terrible alteration in you? No, replied Amathilde, and laughed, but on the contrary it did me the greatest good in the world; for since I was then a little of too high a colour, it brought me to such a right complexion, that the alteration was to my advantage. This is a great happiness, said Bomilcar, that one should grow fairer by sickness. Yet this soundness of Constitution, replied Glacidia, which makes her so fair at seventeen, will one day make her ugly, since it will make her live everlastingly. Oh fie Glacidia, replied Amathilde, you are the most cruel person in the world to presage such misfortune unto me: why (said I and wondered) do you call it a misfortune to live long? As she was ready to reply, the Prince of Phoceus entered, and presently after Britomartes and Galathes. But since the contest between Glacidia and Amathilde was too pleasant to end so soon; and since Glacidia was desirous of some jolly discourse, to prevent her four Rivals from a more serious, she began it again: and looking upon those who newly entered, she told them the cause of the Contest, and the complaint which Amathilde made against her, for presaging that she should live long. If I could live long, and not alter replied she, but continue always as if I were eighteen, I should be contented: but to imagine what I shall be when I am old, it is beyond my patience to endure. However, replied Glacidia, I will tell you plainly that you shall never be fairer than you are, and every year you live will detract something from your cheeks.  
For my part, said the Prince of Phoceus, I think it abundance of prudence in any one to prepare themselves for such a mischance, and to look for it: He had no sooner said so, but Bomilcar, though he was of the same opinion, yet he opposed it, as if his design were only to take Amathildes' part, though indeed it was only to be against the Prince of Phoceus: And Galathes and Britomartes out of resentments of jealousy and love, did not strive so much for a reason of what they said, as to be contrary unto the rest. Thus the Prince of Phoceus was sure to be against the opinion of Bomilcar, of Britomartes, and of Galathes: Bomilcar on the contrary was sure to contradict the Prince of Phoceus, Galathes, and Britomartes: Galathes he employed all his wit to thwart Bomilcar, Britomartes, and the Phocean Prince: And Britomartes he would be sure not to concur in opinion with the Prince of Phoceus, with Galathes, nor with Bomilcar.  
Thus though it may seem there could be but two opposite opinions upon one thing, yet here there were four so different, that it may be said they were all opposite unto each other, so as for a while this conversation was the oddest that ever was; for no sooner had one of these Rivals given a reason for his opinion, but all the other three did earnestly contradict it: and they did so thwart one another with their several Reasons, that the dispute was so entangled as they scarce understood each other: In so much as Glacidia, Amathilde, and my selfe could not choose but laugh at them, and they themselves perceiving it as well as we, could not choose but laugh also: However, to reduce them unto some order in their disputations, Glacidia commanded silence, and told them, that in her intentions of correcting of Amathilde, there needed not so many men talk to her at once: and that it was sufficient if after she herself had accused her, and received her defence, they should then speak what they thought good: But I beseech you, said Amathilde, and interrupted them, what can you accuse me of? I can accuse you of an error replied Glacidia, in thinking one ought not to live above five or six years: For in your opinion one begins but to live at fifteen, and one must die when beauty begins to fade.  
The truth is answered she, that the age which is spent in toys cannot be called happy, no more than that age when youth and beauty begins to fail: But I beseech you, replied Glacidia, let us examine your maxims a little better, and consider I conjure you, how little you have lived happily hitherto, and how little time you have to live; for truly according to your Tenants, your life did but begin at fifteen, and I know you have not lived in full satisfaction; for I remember you, you did not think your self fat enough, and feared you should not be full enough: But now you are grown unto an admirable stature, and it is as p ump and fresh as the lusty Grape, is it not true, you are in fear of being either too fat or too lean? But though you did not, yet since you think five and twenty to be old, certainly your youth will be quickly gone; for if you should deduct from the time you have lived, and from the time, at which your beauty will decay, those days and nights in which you slept ill, those days in which you wore some Gowns which were not well made, those days on which you were not advantageously dressed: Those on which you saw no body: those on which you saw only such as did not please you, it will upon this be found, that your life is so short, as can scarcely be said you have lived one year. Though I should grant all this, replied Amathilde, yet I should not alter my opinion; for since the very best time of ones life will not afford an absolute happiness, I cannot consent that old age is a thing desirable: For my part, I must ingeniously tell you my mind, that though I never had much beauty, yet I do not wish to live longer than I may be put in the Catalogue of those who have some: For when I conceit that my Glass which shows me some symptoms of youth in my face, will show also some wrinkles of age if I should live so long, Death seems desirable to me: And I do profess unto you, that when I think upon the difference there is between a Maid of sixteen and a Wife of sixty, I had rather die at twenty then live to fifty. I have already told you, replied Glacidia, that the same health which makes you now so fair, will make you live a whole age, and therefore you must prepare yourself to be neither fair nor young. If ever such fatal misery fall upon me (replied she) I will break all my Glasses in a thousand pieces; I will shun the world as much as it will shun me: and I believe I will never look you in the face again for fear I should see myself in your eyes; for really my imagination abhors so strange a Metamorphosis: I have much ado to endure so many Mothers and Aunts, who go in company with their Daughters and Nieces; and do you think I should ever endure it in myself? If such an alteration should come upon a sudden (replied Glacidia and laughed at what Amathilde said) I should confess it were to be wondered at: and if you should go now this night to bed young and fair as you are, and rise the next morning old and ugly, I should then permit you to break some of your Glasses: But Amathilde it will not be so; but when you come unto the first point of your decline, every minute will gradatim steal something from you: so as since the alteration comes undiscernably upon you, and since you see yourself every day, the change will be insensible: Oh Glacidia, replied she, this can never come to pass; and I had much rather die young, than it should: What pleasure is it possible I should find in an age, wherein all I do now, is ridiculous then; when I must change my manner of life; when all the world is weary of me; when I must alter all my clothes, when colours is not allowable. No no Glacidia, I am not able to endure it; for I must tonfess I cannot change my way of living, and forsake my pleasures: And if you will have me open my heart unto you, I must very ingeniously tell you, that if I should live long, I should not only be ugly, but also ridiculous; for I am confident I should be persuaded to dance at sixty, though I danced by myself, and I should wear Jewels and colours until the hour of my death. The truth is, I should do the very same things I do at this day; for I know no other thing that can divert me.  
Really Amathilde (said Glacidia and laughed) you are the strangest woman in the world to speak thus: Yet let me tell you to put you out of all thoughts of dancing at sixty; that as the diversions of your infancy are not such now unto you, so those things will not divert you hereafter, which please you now: your pleasures will change with your face, and both with years: And when all your beauty is gone, you will think it sweet to live: For my particular, I know that though I live to be extreme old, yet I shall wish to be older, though I shall find no other pleasures but to see the Roses blow, and smell the Orange and Jestimine Flowers. Moreover, since age is such a bugbear to you, do not bestow it so soon upon others: Consider that some women are fairer at five and twenty then at fifteen: Leave your invectives against age I conjure you; for commonly when four or five of young persons are together; you talk as if you would vever be above seventeen; yet at the very same time when you are censuring this Lady to be ugly, and that Lady old▪ you are drawing towards the same ages yourselves. I beseech you replied Amathilde, do me the honour to teach me how I must live: you must enjoy your beauty and your youth, replied Glacidia, as two things which you must infallibly lose: And you must bring yourselves to such a pass, as to be still amiable when they are lost. I will freely give you leave to enjoy your youth and beauty with all variety of delights, but yet so as it may be without pride, and so as you may part from them without despair: I consent you should gust all the advantages of youth and beauty, with a full swinge; but I would not have you jeer at others who are not so fair as yourselves; for certainly it is the greatest folly, and the most unjust thing in the world, to scoff at what you may be yourselves. For if I were to prescribe Laws unto such as delight themselves in raillary, I would make this inviolable, never to mock at such things as we may be ourselves upbraided with: To play upon such as are stupid and ignorant, there is no danger of any retort, and the like of a hundred examples; But to mock at any woman, because she is not fair or young, is to mock at what you must certainly be yourselves; this is a thing I abhor, that such as are neither young nor fair, and yet behave themselves as if they were. When one arrives at the twilight of Beauty, at the medium between youth and age, when one may choose whether they will pass for young or old, according to their humours, I would then have them incline more unto reservedness, then unto jollity; yet notwithstanding I would not have them despair, nor pass from extremity of mirth unto extremity of melancholy: I would have such renounce all such things which may be handsome when they were younger: I would have them still be handsome, but without all affectation: I allow them all good company: I would not have them strive more to get Lovers, then to keep Friends. I give them the free liberty of walking; that they should have eyes for all excellent objects, and ears for music when decency and occasion present themselves. So Amathilde depriving you only of a few gaudy Ribbons, and some Lovers, which most of them very likely are perfidious, methinks you need not despair though I do foretell that you should live long. When I harken unto you replied Amathilde, I am almost persuaded you are in the right; but when I hearken unto myself, I can scarcely believe it: And I am so confident, that as soon as I am out of your sight, I shall hearken unto my own dictates, as I am in the greatest fear in the world, you should take it ill that I do not follow your advice.  
Amathilde spoke this so pleasantly, that Glacidia and all the company laughed: But as the Prince of Phoceus, Bomilcar, Galathes, and Britomartes were about to give their opinions of this pleasant Contest, an old Aunt of Glacidia's entered, who was so very much marked with all the grim wrinkles of age in her face, as is imaginable: In so much, as though two very young and fair Ladies followed her; yet Amathilde not being able to endure such a ghastly object, she prepared to go away; but first she came to Glacidia, and asked her in a low voice, will you yet maintain that old age is desirable? Yes (replied Glacidia, as she toid us afterwards) and I will maintain also that you will desire it, when you are a little older: Say you so (said she, and laughed aloud) than I will to morrow become what you say I shall be afterwards.  
After this, Amathilde, Galathes, and Britomartes went out, and the Princess Cleonisbe coming in a little after, this old Lady, who put Amathilde in such a fright, went out also: so as there remained only the Prince of Phoceus, Bomilcar, and myself.  
As soon as Cleonisbe was set down, Glacidia related unto her the dispute betwixt Amathilde and her: And she had no sooner related it unto her, but she asked the Prince of Phoceus what opinion he was of? And when he answered that he concurred with Glacidia, she turned towards Bomilcar, and asked his opinion? Truly Madam, replied he, I saw so many against Amathilde, that I took her part, not considering whether it was reasonable or no. Such a generous motive, replied she, deserves a pardon for maintaining so bad a cause: Yet I must confess (added the Princess) that I do not love such generosity as consists only in protecting imbecility against reason. Doubless I would not have weak people oppressed; but I am so great a lover of reason, as I cannot endure they should be protected against it; And in such disputes as these, I would have one speak against ones dearest friends, if their opinions be contrary unto it, and side with their greatest Enemies when they are in the right. The last of these is a task a little too difficult; and I think it Madam a much more easier matter to side with my Friends though they be in the wrong, than not to thwart my Enemies, though they be in the right.  
Truly (replied the Prince of Phoceus) I should be very hardly persuaded to go against the rules of right and reason in either: But I must confess, I should much rejoice sometimes, when one I love not, taketh an ill side. Though there be some kind of injustice in that, replied Cleonisbe, yet you are more reasonable than Bomilcar: At the least Madam, replied Bomilcar, he is much more happy, since you think him more reasonable than myself: Doubtless I am, replied the Prince of Phoceus, since I do entertain any thought which the Princess approves on; She I say, who has such a delicate, just, and discerning a judgement in all things. The thing which I most admire at (said Glacidia and in errupted them, is) that Bomilcar should defend that to day which I know he hates in his heart the most of any man living: and I am most confident, he would never have taken Amathildes' part, but only because he is of their opinion, who thinks all discourse not worth a straw, when all jump in one opinion: I assure you replied he, I cannot say that to be the cause which moved me to it: Bomilcar spoke this with such an Air, as the reason why he would not confess the cause which moved him to take an ill side, was evident unto Glacidia; who thinking it expedient to turn the discourse, she asked Cleonisbe if she saw Onesicrite that day? And passing from one discourse to another, I told her how I saw that morning a branch of Coral of a huge bigness, and of an admirable hue. Cleonisbe then asked me where I saw it? I told her it was in the hands of one who intended to present it unto her upon that day which was designed for her to make her choice of a Husband; for it is the custom, that as soon as the choice is made, all persons of any quality do offer unto the Princess some rich and magnificent presents.  
As soon as ever I had said so, there appeared in the cheeks of Cleonisbe as fresh a colour as the colour which I saw: The Prince of Phoceus and Bomilcar observing it, did easily imagine that the reason of her blush was, because that day on which depended her good or bad fortune was so near, and she never remembered it. But Bomilcar, since his hopes were above his fears, he was not so much perplexed at it as the Prince of Phoceus, who I say seeing no foundation for any hopes, could not think upon that day of rejoicing without extreme sorrow. But Bomilcar being of a hasty temper, and his imagination flattering his reason, he would needs talk of that Feast unto Cleonisbe: For since he believed that she could not speak any thing in advantage of the Phocean Prince, it pleased his fancy to be talking before his Rival of a Ceremony which would put him out of all hopes: And therefore arming himself with a confident boldness; Truly Madam, said he unto Cleonisbe, I do not think there was ever such a cruel feast as this which is now drawing nigh; for there will be abundance of illustrious and brave men assembled, with certainty that only one of them must be happy, and all the rest miserable. 'Tis very true, replied the Prince of Phoceus, this Feast will be very sad unto such as pretend unto the Choice, and sad also unto such as not pretending unto that honour, are only so bold as to wish it: However, I believe (said Cleonisbe) that this Feast will be more sad unto her who is to choose, then unto them who are not chosen. Oh Madam (cried out Bomilcar) then certainly the reason is because she finds none worthy of her choice, for otherwise the matter were easily determined. I assure you replied she, there is a difficulty in every choice: The Princess hath much reason to say so, replied Glacidia and laughed; for I assure you that I in my choice only of flowers, cannot tell sometimes which to fix upon: And my hand and mind doth waver when I cull either Roses, Oranges, or Violets: And you may well imagine, that in matters of great importance the Princess hath great reason to be as much perplexed in her choice as those whom she doth not choose: This is so full of truth replied Cleonisbe, that if the Laws of this State would permit me, I would solemnly disclaim from this Custom, and would much rather submit unto the King my Father, then have the liberty of choice. Then Madam, your reason is (replied Bomilcar very sadly) because you find none worthy of your choice: However the Laws will have you choose, and it is very likely that your judgement hath already chosen him whom your mouth would upon the day of Ceremony pronounce to be your Choice.  
Though I am not obliged to reveal such a secret unto you replied she, yet I will assure you, that my Choice is yet to make: And if I must choose one, it shall be him whom the Gods shall please to inspire into my mind, when I am in the Temple. The Princess spoke this after such a manner, as equally persuaded both the Prince of Phoceus and Bomilcar, that she spoke as she thought; so as the first of these was abundantly joyed, and the second extremely grieved. For since the Prince of Phoceus was never in any hopes of being chosen, he found some sweetness in thinking that others had no greater hopes than himself: But as for Bomilcar, since he conceited himself to have some right to be elected, and verily hoped for it, he was in a strange despair to find the Princess yet unresolved whom she should choose, his sorrows augmented his hatred of the Phocean Prince, because he saw him in possibility of being elected as well as himself. But since such tumultuous thoughts as these are great disturbers of the mind, he scarcely talked any more that day: But the Prince of Phoceus talked more than he did before, and spoke such things as did discover the thoughts of his heart, though he spoke nothing but what would admit of another interpretation.  
But in conclusion, Cleonisbe being ready to go away, these two Rivals waited upon her to her Coach. After which, the Prince of Phoceus went to the King, and Bomilcar returned to Glacidia, from whom I departed immediately after: But since I had the honour to be much in the lovely Lady's favour, and it being in some sort necessary that I should know all the passages amongst these persons. I understood from her since, that as soon as Bomilcar was at liberty to talk in private with her, he began thus; I beseech you dear Glacidia, said he unto her, if ever you intent to oblige me, of two things do one of them for me: Doubtless Sir, replied she, I have a most strong inclination to do you any service, therefore I beseech you tell me presently what are these two things of which you give me the choice? Either to contrive it so answered he, that the Prince of Phoceus may be no longer my Rival, or else that he be no longer your friend; for the truth is, I cannot endure he should either love Cleonisbe, or you. Suppose the Prince of Phoceus (replied Glacidia, and smiled) should desire me to contrive it so, that either Bomilear should not love the Princess, or that I should not be his friend, what answer would you have me return? I would have you answer him replied he, contrary to what I would have you answer me.  
Fie Bomilcar, replied she, in this you are not just: But since I will not be unjust after your example, I will give you the very same answer I would give the Prince of Phoceus, if he should propound the same unto me, Know then Sir, that as I will never cease being a friend unto you, though you be an Enemy unto the Prince of Phoceus: So I will ever cease being his friend, though he be not yours. And as relating unto your passions, as I will neither hinder nor help you, so I will only exhort you both to vanquish your passions. As for Cleonisbe, I will advise her unto nothing; but let her follow the dictates of her own reason, which is much beyond my own.  
Thus Bomilcar, I shall be your friend without prejudice to the Prince of Phoceus, and shall also be his without prejudice to you. Though your friendship unto him replied he, can do me no other harm, but that I shall often see him with you, and be civil to him, yet I shall have great cause to grudge at it: But Sir, replied Glacidia, though you do see him, yet he sees you also, and if he do love the Princess as you think doth, the sight of you troubles him, as the sight of him doth you: And since he he carries himself civility to you, be not you less rational than he is: For if you give me any just cause to think that he is more complaisant towards me than you are, than perhaps retaliating friendship for friendship, I shall be more for the Prince of Phoceus than I am for Bomilcar. Oh cruel Glacidia (said he unto her) I had rather endure the sight of my Enemy, then endanger to see you more his friend then mine: As long as you carry yourself as you ought Sir, replied she, I shall continue the same I am: but if you think to oblige me unto any injustice, you will but deceive yourself, for as I told you before, if the Prince of Phoceus should aflront you, I would take your part: and if you affront him, I will take his: I know he esteems you as you esteem him: I know also that he loves me as you do: And I know further, that he who first falls out, shall lose me, and I will become a friend unto his Rival.  
Oh Glacidia, replied Bomilcar, were you my Mistress, you could not lay a more tyrannical injunction upon me: You may better say Sir (replied she, and smiled) that were I the wisest of the Sorronides, I could not speak more justly than I do; for the very truth is, you have no just cause in the Earth to hate the Prince of Phoceus, he hath not raised either quarrel or faction in the Court; he hath seen the Princess, and he cannot choose but think her amiable: what hurt in all this? Also, whether he love her or not love, still the choice is in her: and questionless she will make her choice, without considering whether you love her, or he love her: And since Reason only is ner rule, I can assure you, that though the Law allow her the choice, yet if her inclination do not concur with reason, certainly she will reject it. Thus your good or bad fortune depends merely upon the Princess, and not at all upon the Prince of Phoceus: Live therefore civilly with him, as he will live with you; and make me not to become partial between two whom I infinitely esteem, and am much obliged unto: And be confident that I will not speak any thing either in his favour nor yours, unless you provoke me. Oh Glacidia (said he) you are too wise to be a friend unto a Lover, who is ready to run out of his very wits; for I perceive by Cleonisbe, that she knows not yet whom she shall make choice of: And yet methinks she should; ●or since I have done her a thousand services, and adored her with all reverend devotion; methinks I deserve to be preferred before either Britomartes or Galathes, or the Prince of Phoceus, who is only an unfortunate Exile.  
If the Prince of Phoceus, replied she, should tell me that you were only an unfortunate Carthaginian, I should blame him for giving such invective terms, as I blame you for upbraiding a great Prince with that term of Exile: an Exile yet whose cause is glorious, since he left his Country only to preserve his liberty.  
Furthermore, let me tell you, that I know not whether the Princess hath yet fixed upon any or no: but though I did know it, I profess unto you I would never tell it: For I am resolved to be faithful not only unto the Princess, but unto you, and unto the Prince of Phoceus, all who are my dear friends, but also unto my very Enemies: Therefore Bomilcar believe that I will neither tell Cleonisbe not the Prince of Phoceus any thing wherewith you shall entrust me, so I will not tell you any thing they are pleased to entrust me withal: Let it suffice I promise you, never to do you any prejudice, but will do you all the Offices that the Laws of a prudent and generous friendship can oblige me unto: But to the end you may not deceive yourself, let me tell you that I will promise the Prince of Phoceus, the very same I promise you, if occasions offer themselves: And to testify that I am very sincere, I tell you again, that I will not busy myself on any side between the Princess Cleonisbe and the Prince of Phoceus, nor between the Princess and you, unless I be provoked: But since I hope I shall never be put unto any such necessity, you may expect from me all the serviceable offices in my power, provided they trespass not upon the friendship which is between the Princess and me, and the Prince of Phoceus: Once more let me tell you Glacidia (said Bomilcar to her) you are so very wise that you make me despair; for by offering me all, you offer me nothing: For since you will do nothing in prejudice of my most feared Rival, you cannot do me any good office at all: And yet methinks replied she, that you have two others who are as much to be feared; for if you consider how Britomartes is of the same Country, and Galathes a great Neighbour, you will find them considerable: 'Tis very true (said he) but since you cannot prejudice them, unless you do a good office unto the Prince of Phoceus as well as myself, I cannot tell whether I should desire it.  
I should never make an end Madam, if I should repeat the whole discourse between Bomilcar and Glacidia, but at last he left her, and had as great an esteem of her virtue, as love to Cleonisbe.  
In the mean time, since the Prince of Phoceus was extremely desirous to know whether or no the Princess was yet unresolved of her choice, he went betimes the next morning unto Glacidia, and found her alone. And being no less angry to find Bomilcar with her, than Bomilcar was to meet him, he told her it was the greatest cruelty in the world unto him, that hitherto he could never see her he esteemed most, unless he saw the man he loved least. But Madam▪ since I have not Glacidias' Art, to dress the same matter in different terms, and like her, put the grace of novelty upon it, I shall omit a great part of what she said unto the Prince of Phoceus, because it was almost the same she said unto Bomilcar.  
But Madam, let me tell you, how this Prince not being able to contain the fullness of his heart, did the same day unload it unto Glacidia. You shall see (said he unto her after much other talk) that I am as confident of your sincerity as of your generosity, since though you have told me that you are as friendly unto my Rival as myself, yet I will disclose the very secret of my heart unto you: I am infinitely obliged unto you Sir for your confidence in me, replied she, and I look upon it as an evident testimony of your esteem: Also I wish with all my heart I could cure you of this tormenting passion, since I can do you no other service. Oh Glacidia (replied the Prince of Phoceus) do not wish the cure; for I had much rather be sick of that disease which torments me, then enjoy the health you wish me.  
Furthermore, in some sort to imitate your generosity, I will not move you to prejudice Bomilcar, though it be the thing which most of any thing I desire, next the enjoyment of Cleonisbe: But as between two friends who are equally loved, one is obliged in generosity to have a greater care of him who is unfortunate, then of him who is not: I beseech you let your compassion be upon my misery, and oblige you to put some difference between Bomilcar and me his Enemy: Pity me at least, because I deserve it more than he doth: For truly he is allowed to be in the happy Catalogue of those who may pretend unto her choice, he hath done a thousand services both unto the King and Cleonisbe: You have spoken a thousand times in your life in his advantage unto the Princess: he hath seen her many years together, and is known unto her: the King loves him, and a thousand motives gives him hope of happiness and choice: But as for me Glacidia, I am a poor miserable wretch that can hope for nothing: I love, but perhahs it is unknown, at least but imperfectly: I love, and dare not pretend unto any love again, nor unto any choice: I love, with the misery to know, that even common prudence will not Permit me to be chosen; yet notwithstanding there is something in my heart, which is neither vanity nor pride, that often hints unto me, I ought not to yield unto Cleonisbe, neither unto Bomilcar, nor Britomartes, or Galathes: so as changing my thoughts, I have some glimpses of hope: and though I cannot hope for full happiness, yet sometimes I think it not absolutely impossible. 'Tis true I am an Exile, but I am so with a great people who are obedient unto me: And I can boast of an estate, which as small as it is, may extend its limits further than the power of Bomilcar can: Since I have many ships, men enough to man them, and Riches sufficient to maintain a long War, and carve out some important Conquest.  
Indeed Glacidia, my birth is equal unto Bomilcars, my heart is as noble as his, and the passion of my soul, not a jot inferior. But for all this, all my feeble hopes do vanish so soon as I am often ready to despair: And therefore I conjure you Glacidia, as a cordial to my comfort, tell me whether you think the Princess spoke sincerely yesterday, when she said that her choice was yet to make? For if she did, it is a comfort beyond my expression, though I know no reasonable ground for any hopes to be built upon it. Since I am very sincere, replied Glacidia, and since flattery of friends, are but mere delusions, I must ingeniously tell you, that I wish with abundance of Zeal, you were able to quench these flames which thus torment you; for though I find you most worthy of the Princess, yet I have some cause to fear, that though Cleonisbe should have the same thoughts of you; and in her hearr prefer you before either Bomilcar, Britomartes, and Glacidia, yet she dare not choose you, lest it should incite some trouble in the State.  
After this Sir, ask me no more; for since I must not reveal the secrets of Cleonisbe, and since if Bomilcar should ask me more, I would be silent: I ought to be so unto you, since I am put upon a cross conjuncture which will not permit me to serve you, unless I disserve him; nor serve him, without disservice unto you: And to tell you sincerely, I am not able to give you any particular satisfaction, though the consideration of Bomilcar would allow me, because I never thought it my duty to dive too deep into the secrets of Cleonisbes' heart. And therefore consult with your own reason without me, since I am not able to give you any faithful council, unless I should be perfidious unto the Princess and Bomilcar. Oh Glacidia (replied the Prince of Phoceus) if I should be my own Councillor, I should run into strange inconveniences: You are so prudent Sir, replied she, that you need not fear yourself: I am so far under the commanding power of Love, replied he, that you may expect nothing of reason from me: I should talk boldly of my Love unto her who is the causer of it: I should express my odium unto Bomilcar, conspire against Galathes, and oppose Britomartes with as much fury as he himself is capable of. The truth is, Glacidia, I should attempt any thing, rather than yield unto the enjoyment of Cleonisbe. Since I am not at free liberty to tell you all I think (replied she) I find myself at a great puzzle: bu● yet without giving you any cause to suspect me a favourer of Bomilcar unto your prejudice, I will advise you once more consult seriously with yourself before you offer to act your tumultuous resolutions, whose Consequences may prejudice you more than you can imagine: However, remember I beseech you to carry yourself so fair towards Bomilcar, that I may preserve the same neutrality between you, which I intent to do, lest if you force me to his side, you should weaken your own.  
But Madam, Glacidia did not only know all the secrets of the Prince of Phoceus and Bomilcars' hearts, but she knew Cleonisbes' also. And going to her one evening when no company was with her, for privacy sake she took her into her Closet, where seeming to be very melancholy, Glacidia asked her the reason: I do assure you, replied she, I cannot directly tell you; for I have such a miscellany of several thoughts which displease me, as I cannot tell unto which to attribute my melancholy: Yet truly I think the greatest cause of it is, because I shall shortly be put unto the necessity of making a Choice, which has more difficulty in it then is imagined. But Madam, replied Glacidia, I thought your mind had been before this sufficiently prepared for it, and that you would not make choice of any but whom the King appoints.  
That hath hitherto been my resolution, replied she, but truly I begin to grow weary of it, because I fear he will not advise me to my satisfaction: Then Madam (answered Glacidia) since the Law gives you the liberty of your own choice; Choose him whom your own Reason dictates unto you, and never refer it unto the King. Oh Glacidia, replied she, the question is to know whether it be my reason which bids me to have such a strange aversion unto Bomilcar. Glacidia surprised at this speech, was a while silent before she would speak, purposely to consider how she might neither prejudice Bomilcar nor the Prince of Phoceus: and in order to that, she endeavoured to know from whence this aversion unto Bomilcar might proceed, intending that if she preferred either Britomartes or Galathes, to prejudice them as much as she could, because she did not think them worthy of Cleonisbes' choice, and because she might well do it without offence unto either of her two friends. I do confess Madam, said she unto her, that I have always observed you never had any great inclination unto Bomilcar, though I never thought your aversion so strong: But Madam, I beseech you (added she) is it not Galathes or Britomartes that pleaseth you better than he doth, and consequently are causes of your aversion to him? No replied Cleonisbe and blushed, I assure you neither of them are prejudicial unto Bomilcar; however Glacidia (pursued she) you are a little beholding unto me, for forcing myself to conceal from you the natural antipathy which is betwixt me and him; for truly had he not been one of your friends, I should long since have imparted my thoughts unto you; yet I know very well, that my thoughts are injurious; nor am I so ignorant as not to know him to be a very brave complete man, nor am I so blind as not to see that he loves me. But for all that, there is something in my heart, which will not let me relish his merits, which forbids him entrance into it; and which makes me have such thoughts of him, as may rather be phrased hatred than aversion. Yet I know very well that all reason bids me choose him: and in all probability the King will order me to prefer him before all others: Judge therefore Glacidia, whether my soul can sit satisfied, and see such a sad day drawing upon me: Sad I will say, since Bomilcar is odious unto me, and especially of late so abominable that I can hardly endure him. And truly it may be said (added she and blushed) that he himself contributes something unto my horrid aversion: For I beseech you consider a little how unjustly he is still thwarting the Phocean Prince, unto whom both the King, the Prince my Brother, and myself are so civil and respective: I took not so much notice Madam, replied Glacidia, as either to approve or disallow of what Bomilcar did against the Prince of Phoceus: And all I am able to say for him is, that certainly he does not deserve the misfortune of your odinm. But I pray Glacidia, said Cleonishe, do not you know the reason why Bomilcar and the Phocean Prince do thus clash? for truly being both of them your Friends, methinks you should know the very bottom of their hearts: Believe it Madam, replied she, I have done as much as is possible to make them friends, but cannot; and the hatred that is betwixt them (if I be not much mistaken) has a higher cause than I can tell you; and I do not think Madam, but you are best able to divine it: Yes Glacidia, I can do so (replied she, and blushed again) and it is a reason why I am so much incensed against Bomilcar: For the very truth is, I do abhor his bold impudence in being jealous of the Phocean Prince. And though that Prince have all requisite qualities to cause it, yet he ought not in relation to myself. And therefore Bomilcar may be assured, that unless my Father do positively command me to choose him, I shall never do it.  
However (pursued she and sighing) if so it chance, that to my grief the King will needs have me choose him, I beseech you my dear Glacidia help out my reason, and use such arguments as may induce me to obey him. Since you may very well believe Madam, replied Glacidia, that I would not speak in advantage of Bomilcar, but only because he is my friend, therefore I declare that I will never speak in his behalf.  
Oh my Glacidia (replied Cleonisbe angrily) do not forsake me now, I conjure you, in a business which is of the greatest concernment of all my life; for let me tell you once more, my reason stands in great need of your assistance. Madam, replied Glacidia, I would gladly know why you speak so? For truly (pursued she purposely to discover her real mind) if you have such a strong aversion to Bomilcar, why do you not desire the King to give you the choice of Galathes, or Britomartes? Oh Glacidia (replied she hastily) I do not value them at so high a rate, as my disobedience to the King: It should never be they, but doubtless it should be the ............. At these words Cleonisbe blushed, and was silent, not being able to get out with her thought; but having spoken enough to make Glacidia understand her, she was extremely ashamed, though she usually imparted her most secret thoughts unto her: but at last, being resolved to open her very heart, she confessed that if she might follow her own inclination, she would prefer the Prince of Phoceus before either Bomilcar, B●itomartes, or Galathes, and confessed that she had as great a disposition to love him, as to hate Bomilcar. Judge now, my dear Glacidia (said she unto her) whether I had not good reason to say I stood in need of your Reason to support my own: And therefore I conjure you to do two things continually, until the sad day of this fatal Ceremony be passed: The one, to lessen my aversion unto Bomilcar; the other to lessen my affection unto the Prince of Phoceus. Though it was never yet in my power to disobey the least of your commands Madam, replied Glacidia, yet I beseech you to excuse me in this: For truly Madam, I have so fully determined to keep myself a Neuter between these two whom I equally honour, as I am fully resolved neither to hurt nor help either of them in a business wherein I cannot oblige the one, but I must disoblige the other: and therefore I beseech you take it not ill if I disobey you; for which choice soever you make between the Prince of Phoceus and Bomilcar, you cannot choose amiss. Had I discovered a disposition to prefer Britomartes or Galathes before either of them, I should have opposed it with all my power; but since I do not, I have no more to say: if you overcome your aversion to Bomilear, you will be just unto his merit and his love: And if you follow your inclination to the Prince of Phoceus, you are but just unto his virtue and his passion.  
Thus Madam, which soever you do, you will do well: and which soever you do, I shall have cause both of joy and sorrow; and since by making one happy, you make the other miserable: I shall rejoice with him you choose, and grieve with him you reject: and therefore I beseech you do me so much honour as not to move me any further to contribute any thing unto the misery of him whom you shall doom unto such a cruel punishment. But Glacidia, replied Cleonisbe, by thinking not to contribute unto it you do extremely; for if you do not put me in mind, that if I disobey the King, and favour an exiled Prince, than I shall dishonour myself, and perhaps bring a War upon the Kingdom: Bomilear will never be chosen: Let it even be as you please Madam without any intermeddling, replied Glacidia; for truly Madam, I neither can, nor aught to meddle; and if I durst say it, you would not have me obey you. I do almost confess it Glacidia, replied Cleonisbe and sighed; for if you should desire me to lessen my aversion unto Bomilcar, I fear you would increase it. But truly I must confess I know not well what I would have, though I am most certain I would have nothing done against my own glory: But however my dear Glacidia (added she) since I have trusted you with my aversion unto Bomilcar, and my inclination unto the Prince of Phoceus, be sure you let neither of them have the least glimpse of my thoughts, for if you should, there is so much injustice in my hatred of Bomilcar, and so much weakness in my affection to the Phocean Prince, as I should be eternally ashamed.  
You may well conceive Madam, that Glacidia was ready to make this promise unto Cleonisbe; and you may also believe she would perform it.  
In the mean time, Carimantes being of a fiery nature, and having a fl●ming passion in his heart, he resolved upon a course which much tormented Menedorus, and grieved Onesicrite: For perceiving that this Princess entertained so favourable thoughts of Menedorus, he acquainted Sfurius with it, and desired him to oblige his son unto a quitting of Onesicrite: hinting unto him, that since he had given him a being in his Country, it was the least of favours he could do for him: adding withal, that he would be so great a friend unto him, as he should have good cause to be well satisfied with his acknowledgements. Sfurius being always of an humour to prefer the public good before any particular, though he approved of his son's affection unto Onesicrite; yet he promised, his son should pretend no further unto that Princess. Assuring Carimantes, that though Menedorus would, yet he should not be able to disobey: And in pnrsuance of this promise, Carimantes was no sooner gone, but he sent for his son. At first he went about to persuade him by arguments drawn from reason: That having a Rival unto whom he was so much obliged: and a Rival who would ere long be in power to ruin him, if provoked, it were wisdom to submit, since it were neither prudent nor just to expose so many innocent persons unto the fury of a Prince for the satisfaction of his love: adding further, that since it concerned the interest of their Town in general, he ought to sacrifice all his private pleasures for its safety, and the rather, because he was not in any power to disobey. As strong as all these reasons were, yet they could not prevail with Menedorus: So as then joining his authority unto his reasons and persuasions, he absolutely commanded him to think no more upon Onesicrite, telling him that though he would, yet he could not disobey him. You may well imagine Madam, that Menedorus was extremely startled, yet his love would not give leave to submit; but seemed so resolute, that Sfurius grew angry, and gave him harsh language, insomuch as perhaps he had been forced to yield, had he not been tampered withal by Galathes. For Madam, be pleased to know, that this Prince according to his close way, had plotted with several Greeks, and held private intelligence with a friend to Menedorus: so that fearing extremely lest Carimantes should be well treated by Onesicrite, and consequently induced to favour the Prince of Phoceus, he sent unto Menedorus, and bade him stand firm to his principles: assuring him that the King would never allow of Carimantes his passion, and consequently he needed not to fear, since he should have him for his Patron. Thus Madam, Menedorus in spite of all his Father's reasons and menaces, did not change his mind.  
In the mean time, Sfurius assured Carimantes that he would keep Menedorus from being any obstacle unto his design, desiring him only to have a little patience, and give him some days to work so great a cure: And indeed Sfurius applied a most sad remedy unto Menedorus, for he went unto the Prince of Phoceus, and told him what Carimantes said unto him, conjuring him to use his utmost authority to dissuade Onesicrite from Menedorus. For truly Sir, said he unto him, as glorious as your alliance would be, I would never advise you unto it, since I should then expose you and all the Grecians here unto the violence of an amorous Prince. Therefore, Sir, since the gods would have him to be our Patron, by the means of his affection unto the Princess your sister, I conjure you to be as zealous in hindering the Princess your sister, as I shall be in opposing Menedorus my son.  
The Prince of Phoceus hearing this, was much joyed to see it was in his power, and that he might have the honour of favouring the designs of Carimantes, and to cross those of Menedorus: Conceiving that since this Prince did think Onesicrite was worthy of him, Cleonisbe might also think him not unworthy of her: Therefore he gave Sfurius a very civil answer, protesting that though he had a great mind unto his alliance rather than unto Carimantes; yet since he was so generous as to prefer the public good before the satisfaction of his son, he were not worthy of his friendship, if he were less generous than he: and if he did not deprive himself of a happiness which he desired, rather than hazard the ruin of their new Commonwealth. So that after this, they consulted together upon the best expedients, and resolved to work first by all sweetness upon Onesicrite. In order to that Aristonice must be employed, who was much in her books, and it was resolved they should move Onesicrite unto a little journey out of Masseilles, without letting her know for what she went: and accordingly the Prince of Phoceus did carry the matter so handsomely, as she consented unto his wishes: but to the end the business might take better effect, the Prince of Phoceus doing me the honour to trust me with all the secrets of his life, and to acquaint me with the state of things, he sent me the night before to prepare Aristonice: so as when Onesicrite came to her, Aristonice carried it so handsomely, as that Princess never imagined the Prince of Phoceus to have any hand in the Council which she gave her. At the first meeting, nothing passed but Compliments of welcome, and expressions of mutual amity. Afterwards Aristonice, whose discourse did always aim at the bettering of others, began to tell very obligingly, that since she had received from heaven so great a Talon of beauty, and so many admirable parts, she was extremely afraid considering her age, lest she any ways abuse those excellent graces which the gods had given her: And truly Daughter (said she, for so she called her) it is not enough to appear all virtue, and abstain from the commission of horrid crimes, which persons well born seldom are guilty of: but one must do all the good one can, and above all things not to profane those gifts which they receive from heaven: and therefore Daughter, since you have received such extraordinary beauty from the gods, it is your duty to be extreme careful not to abuse so great a favour: For truly the beauty of Helen was fatal unto all Asia, and all succeeding ages will impute the burning of Troy unto the lovely fire of her eyes: Therefore be sure you remember always, that the Gods did not bestow so much beauty upon you, but with intentions you should employ it well, not in doing harm, when therefore your beauty gives you a power over any one. Remember to consider whether any unfortunate persons had any need of his credit, over whom you have got that power, to the end that drawing a good from the weakness of another, yond may merit a reward from heaven: For example, I hear that the Prince Carimantes does highly esteem you; you must be sure to make use of him as a Patron to all those Grecians whom he hath already so generously protected.  
Onesicrite hearing Aristonice say so, began to blush, and blushed so much with such disorder in her eyes, that she discovered her heart in an instant. Onesicrite being of a very sweet disposition, and a little timorous, though she had spirit enough, the discourse of Aristonice came so home to her heart, that she resolved to put her whole confidence in her, and asked her how she should carry herself to be rid of Carimantes his love without incensing him, or moving him to attemp any thing against Menedorus: So after she had apologized for her weakness, she related the affection which Menedorus bore unto her, she confessed the inclination she had unto him; afterwards told her how Carimantes seemed to profess a Love unto her, and what Sfurius had said to his son: adding withal, whatsoever she thought might move Aristonice to give her counsel not to disengage herself from the affection of Menedorus, and to shake off Carimantes. But she was much surprised, when Aristonice after a plausible hearing returned her answer: I render thanks unto the Gods who brought you hither (said she unto her) for since it appears they love you very dearly, I would not for a world you should abuse their favours: I will not blame you for your compliance with the affection of Menedorus; for since it appears to proceed from virtue, I will not condemn it, though in reason it had been much better you had received his heart without giving your own. But since both your Parents and his did approve of your affections unto each other, I have no more to say against it: But Daughter, things now have changed faces; for since Sfurius would not have you marry Menedorus, and since the Prince Carimantes would marry you, it is most expedient you cast off the first, and entertain the second: Why Mother, cried Onesicrite, do you think the gods would ever pardon me, if I should change my thoughts of Menedorus? Do you think Daughter replied Aristonice, that the gods would ever pardon you if you should be a cause of Ruin unto this vast multitude of People which they by their providence have brought hither? Could you ever answer it, if Carimantes should set our Town on fire, which he permitted us to build.  
No no Onesicrite, deceive not yourself: and though I cannot speak any pleasing truths unto you at this time, yet I had rather displease, then betray you. Know Daughter, that the Prime duty hath an influence over all the rest: and since there is none more powerful than that which ties us unto our Country, no other can ever dispense with you from it. The truth is, we are born for it before any thing else whatsoever: You were a Grecian before Menedorus was your Lover; and consequently you can make him no promise in prejudice of your Country; and though you should, it is not tot to be kept. Let me tell you, the destiny of Marseilles is wholly in your hands: you may preserve it, or you may ruin it. If you adhere unto the affection of Menedorus, you destroy it; If you entertain the offers of Carimantes, you save it: Thus since the safety of so many innocent persons depends wholly upon you, you were in a most high degree sinful, if you do not surmount yourself: and Menedorus is most unworthy of you, if he be not so generous as to prefer the public good before his private satisfaction: You have power my dear Daughter to do what you please, yet you are in a Country wherein you have no right but what the Prince whom you shall treat ill doth give you; for you know that without him the King had never received us: Moreover no Ship can sail out of our Port without the permittance of the Phocean Prince, or Sfurius: do you think they will ever permit your departure, and incense a Prince who ere long shall be King, and make you a Queen? and though they should wink at your departure, or that you should steal away, into what place of the world could you go? Phoceus is full of Persians, and we have no other Land or Country but Marseilles which you would ruin: Should a person of your age, virtue and quality wander from Coast to Coast, and from Sea to Sea, without any other reason but because she is in Love? Do you no better remember the terror of incensed Seas, out of which the Goddess whom I adore did bring us to a Port? will you again expose yourself into those dangers, and be upbraided with so much weakness as not to strive against a passion which to speak truly has no other force in it but what ones self doth give unto it? But that the interests of the party loved may oblige you: Consider Daughter, seriously consider, unto what danger you expose Menedorus, if you should suffer him to continue a Rival unto Carimantes. First, he will pass in the opinion of the world for an imprudent man, next with the Prince for an ungrateful person: But though the quality of a faithful Lover be very considerable, yet that ought not to let you expose his life, as doubtless you would if you do not break off with him, nor oblige him to leave behaving himself as your Lover. For Carimantes is young, and of a hasty temper: Moreover he is the son of a King, one unto whom you are much obliged, and so is not Menedorus: Take heed therefore Onesicrite, take heed for your Lover's sake, though you will not for the Grecians: It's betteer it cost you some tears, then him his life, or you your reputation: and therefore Daughter, since the interest of your Country, your own glory; the life of him you love and all is at stake, strive with yourself, and generously resolve absolutely to unloose yourself from the affection of Menedorus: But Daughter, never think to untie the knots which fetter you by degrees, for they are of such a nature, as they must be broken upon a sudden, and with violence; for otherwise in thinking to untie them gently, they will the more entangle, and be made indissolvable. Fix therefore Daughter upon a resolution worthy of yourself. I conjure you to it for your Country sake, for your glories sake, and for Menedorus his sake, and to use a more prevalent argument for the sake of that goddess whom I serve, who since she was never in love, would doubtless most severely punish you if you should ruin all this multitude of people whom she hath saved, only because you loved Menedorus.  
All the while that Aristonice spoke, Onesicrite looked down and sighed conntinually, so as she made it apparent that her heart was extremely perplexed: but at last, being forced to answer, her tears was a prologue to her words: and do what she could it was impossible to retain them. But the wonder was, that this symptom of imbecility which she was not able to keep from the sight of Aristonice, was the reason of her force to surmount it; for she was so extremely ashamed, that desiring to repair her weakness by an act of courage, after she had dried up her tears, and stood a while silent, she promised Aristonice she would use her best endeavours to follow her counsel: Yet I do not promise (added she) to overcome myself; but I promise to strive, which is more than ever I thought I could do. But Mother, I beseech you (added she) is there no Medium between these two extremes! Can I not reject the affection of Menedorus without entertaining that of Carimantes? Receive me I beseech you into the number of your Companions: And by that means let me not give the unfortunate Menedorus any cause to suspect me of ambition, or inconstancy.  
Oh Daughter (said Aristonice and smiled) Virgins consecrated unto Diana never ought to fear making their Lovers jealous, and her Nymphs entertain no hunters for their Gallants. But to be more serious, if you have a mind to destroy that Temple which I am building, you need only to shut yourself in it: And therefore for a further guests for a remedy unto that disease which hath no other than what I propound, sacrifice your passion for your Country; your own Country affords a thousand ex-examples of brave men, who have sacrificed their lives for theirs, yet I impose no such rigid task upon you; but on the contrary, I advise you live, and live happily. Oh Mother replied she, I do not think that to be possible: However, though you advise me to break those cords with violence which tie me unto Menedorus, yet I beseech you let me unloose them more gently, and give me some days to do it.  
Aristonice seeing she had obtained more than she hoped for, consented unto her demand, and gave her many wise instructions to confirm her in her resolution.  
But Madam, Onesicrite returning to the Court, Menedorus much wondered to see her so melancholy; and more, when upon the first occasion of talking with her in private, she conjured him to obey his Father's commands. Then did he express himself in all the terms that the most violent passion could devise, he assured her that the King would never consent she should marry Carimantes, and therefore it would be in vain for her to be perfidious: Afterwards he fell into all his Prayers and Complaints to move her unto a constancy of mind: so as Onesicrite finding her heart to melt, and her resolutions to stagger, she parted from him without any power either to break off or to renew affection: and for some certain days things rested thus.  
In the mean time, since the ceremony of Cleonisbes' choice drew very near, the Court began to swell into a tumultuous multitude: And these four Pretenders were so solicitous in their designs and hopes of being chosen, that nothing else was talked of, and these Pretenders were perpetually either with the King, or Carimantes, or Cleonisbe, or with Glacidia. As for Britomartes, he was the least busy; for being of a lofty mind, and of that Country, he believed that certainly he should be preferred before the rest. As for Galathes, he neither trusted unto his merits, nor quality, nor any thing else, but solicited the King, and plotted the ruin of his Rivals. To that end he alleged, that Bomilcar being originally a Carthaginian, he would not be acceptable to the People: That Britomartes being already very powerful in his own Country, he would be too potent by that Alliance: And as for the Prince of Phoceus, it was not probable he would permit the Princess to marry a poor man who had no being but what he gave him.  
On the other side, he Courted Carimantes with all possible submissions; he addressed himself unto Cleonisbe with all complacency and reverend respects, and solicited Glacidia by a thousand expressions of friendship.  
In the mean time he held intelligence with Menedorus, and suborned some Segoregians to murmur against the Grecians, to the end the King, Carimantes and Cleonisbe might cast a less favourable eye upon the Prince of Phoceus. As for Bomilcar, he never had any plots against Galathes or Britomartes, but had a vigilant eye upon the Prince of Phoceus, who for his part employed his whole mind in prejudice of Bomilcar. All of them were extremely obsequious unto Cleonisbe and Glacidia, and for two days before this Ceremony, but for the prudence of that wise Lady, they had all fallen very foul upon one another. I beseech you (said the Pr: of Phoceus one day unto Glacidia) if I be so unfortunate as to be any cause that the Princess should have any advantageous thoughts of Bomilcar, let him not know them until the very last: defer this satisfaction until the very last fatal minute of the Ceremony, so as the sudden surprise of so great a happiness, may make him die of joy, as well as I of sorrow: For the truth is Glacidia, if Bomilcar be chosen, and does not die with joy, he does not love her as he ought.  
On the other side, Bomilcar out of the like apprehension made another request unto Glacidia, for he was most zealous with her, that if she knew the Prince of Phoceus had no hopes of any Choice, that she declare it to him as soon as ever she could, imagining the greatest delight in the world, to make him soon sensible of his misfortune. But Glacidia being immovable, she constantly denied both her friends, as oft as they solicited her against each other, keeping herself close unto her resolution, either in speaking unto them, or unto Cleonisbe.  
In the mean time it was the happy fortune of the Phocean Prince to be in the Palace garden, as the Princess was in the Evening walking without any other company but her own women, and he addressed himself unto her with all imaginable devotion, and presenting his hand unto her, he carried her into a long walk of Orange trees, at the end of which was seats of Grass: so as it being that season of the year when their Oranges were most in flower, and the ground all strewed with them, a fitter place to rest in could not be imagined: In which they being set down, their discourse began with things much different from those they ended with. For Madam, they began with their choice of odoriferous flowers, Cleonisbe examining in what rank should be placed the smell of Violets, of Roses, of Pinks, of Jassemine, and of Oranges, under which they were shaded. But after a very pleasant discourse of so delicate a subject, the Princess said that the only fault of Perfumes was, that custom made them lose their virtue, and by possessing them, one does not possess them: and so if one will enjoy any pleasure, they must deprive themselves of it for a certain time, since otherwise others enjoy it, and not they themselves: and truly this rule is almost general, for after one is accustomed unto fetters, they are not heavy; slaves are not sensible of their Chains; Pleasures cease to be pleasures by a long habit, and so the same of sorrows. This rule Madam, which you think so general, replied the Prince of Phoceus, hath yet his exceptions: For truly Madam, I know a miserable man who suffers in such a manner, that though his miseries cannot increase, yet he is still more sensible of them, and habit as powerful as it is, doth not diminish his grief; but on the contrary, the more he suffers, the less is he accustomed to his sufferings, and is so extremely impatient, that he not only complains, but he murmurs and repines also. Patience (replied Clonsisbe faintly) is yet a remedy which is more provoked by murmuring, than it is eased by complaints. Yet truly Madam, replied he, I am persuaded that there is much ease in Complaints, and sighs from a grieved heart do carry with them some of that sorrow which lies heavy upon it: but when those sighs are sti●led, and sorrows sit silently within, believe it Madam there is no such deplorable condition: The truth is, it cannot continue long, for one must of necessity either complayn or die. Methinks the choice of these two (replied Cleonisbe and smiled) is very easy. Since you conceive it so Madam (replied the Prince of Phoceus) I hope you will not be offended, if now, seeing me put to a necessity either of dying or complaining, I make choice of the last: And I conjure you to give me leave not only to complain unto you, but of you, and of myself; for truly Madam, you have brought me into the most pitiful condition in the world. I did not think Sir, replied Cleonisbe, and blushed, that I had given any cause of complaint unto any, much less unto you: But since it seems I am mistaken, I must tell you in general that I never had any intention to hurt you: but I beseech you, expect no further satisfaction from me then this I have given you; for in the humour I am, I fear nothing more than too many explanations: Heavens preserve me Madam, replied he, from being too offensive: No Madam, all I desire is, you would be pleased to hear me, and not be angry. If you should tell me any thing, replied she, which will cause it, I conceive it better both for you and me, tha● 〈◊〉 did not hear you. Oh Madam (cried he) I must needs tell you in what a miserable condition I shall be upon that day of Ceremony, when you shall make him happy whom you shall think worthy of your choice: For my part, I am sure that I cannot in any reason pretend unto it: Yet I am able to protest that I love you more than all your adorers. Your language does so much surprise me, replied Cleonisbe, that I know not how to answer it; for truly I thought you had known me better. I know you Madam, replied he, for the fairest and most excellent Princess of the world.  
But since it doth extremely concern me that you know me to be the most miserable man alive, I must let you know how much I have suffered, since the first minute I ever saw you: Alas Madam, you do not know the greatness of my Passion: and Perhaps looking upon me as a miserable exile, you think it unworthy of yourself to put so much as in any doubt, whether I shall be chosen. To testify I much esteem you, answered Cleonisbe, I will not scrupulously insist upon strict rule which would have wholly reject all that can be called Love: and therefore will argue with you upon a business which much concerns my happiness, but I think not yours. And the rather, because the laws do permit me the choice, and allow me to speak of it with out any offence unto decency, I shall therefore ingeniously tell you, that you have merit enough to pretend unto this choice: But Sir, though the Law do give me the liberty of choice, yet I do not think so well of myself, as to trust unto myself in a business of this nature: so as I indeed choose in appearance, but the King in effect, since I only do what he pleaseth. So as if it were true that you loved me, and that I were not displeased at it, yet all your complaints would do me no good, since I will not so much as please my own self: And to testify that I have much confidence in your virtue, I will confess unto you, that amongst all those who at this ceremony will pretend unto my choice, there are three orders of them in my mind: some are merely indifferent unto me: some I hate: and perhaps there will be one whom I would not hate, if it were permitted me to love him.  
However, being persuaded that perhaps the King will appoint me to choose one of those I hate, and since I know he will not appoint me to choose him whom I would, if I did follow my own inclination, I am resolved to humour him with a blind obedience: so Sir, it is upon him my good or bad fate depends, and therefore never make any vain complaints; for since I will not seek my own satisfaction, it is not probable I should yours.  
Whilst Cleonisbe was talking, the Prince of Phoceus looked her full in the eyes, to see if he could find in them which of these orders he was: and his mind was so extremely discomposed, that almost in one minute, he thought himself in the rank of indifferency, in the rank of the hated, and in the happy rank of him that was loved. But Madam (said he unto her) will you not be pleased to let me know in which of these orders I am? I cannot well tell (replied she, and rose up) whether you be in any of the three. At least Madam, honour me so far (added he) as to assure me that I am not in the number of those who are hated: doubtless you are not, answered she, but perhaps you will, if you put me once more to the necessity of hearing more of this discourse. The Prince of Phoceus had a great mind to have retained her a little longer, but he could not; for she calling one of her women to mend something about the dress upon her head, would not give any further occasion of discoursing upon his passion: So as he being resolved to talk of nothing else, and not daring to disobey, he was silent, and waited upon her unto her chamber, where presently after so much company came, that he could not possibly talk alone with her.  
In the mean while, great preparations were made for this Feast: And though only one of these Princes were to be chosen, yet they were all as rich in their habits and equipage, as if they were all sure of this election. And all the Ladies set their inventions upon the rack for the newest dress and fashion: And Amathilda amongst the rest was as choice of that colour which would best become her as Cleonisbe was whether she should submit unto the King's mind, or follow her own according to the permitance of the law. It was all in vain for her to ask the advice of Glacidia, for she was unalterable. So that her own reason only striving against her hatred of Bomilcar, and against her inclination unto the Prince of Phoceus, she was not without her many inquietudes. But the Eve of this great feast being come, the apprehension of these four Rivals were so high, that one would have thought they had lost their wits and reasons. They were no sooner in one place, but they were at another: They met with one another at a hundred turns: And the hatred which was between Bomilcar and the Phocean Prince did begin to flame, and was ready to flame out.  
As for Cleonisbe, she was so sad as would have moved pity: yet endure it she must that night, in which all the court was with her. Yet this multitude was one way advantageous to her for a while, for none of her four Rivals could talk in private with her. But this lasted not long; for the Prince Carimantes coming in, after a quarter of an hours discourse, he went out again, and carried the Prince of Phoceus with him: And the company changing places, Bomilcar got next Cleonisbe, without either Britomartes or Galathes; for the last of these was gone unto Menedorus, to plot some design with him, and the first went unto the King, both of them going out with Carimantes: Then Bomilcar taking this opportunity, he used it so well, that he engaged Cleonisbe against her mind to let him talk low unto her. I beseech you Madam (said he unto her, as afterwards she told Glacidia) deny me not the favour which I shall ask: and do me the honour to tell me, whether I may hope you will be pleased to make a bad choice to morrow, as to the merit of the person, but a just one, as to the greatness of his passion, who is so bold as to ask whether he may hope to be chosen. I once told you replied she, that I would choos none but him whom it should please the gods to inspire into my thoughts: and I tell you it again, and I assure you, it is more of them then me that you ought to ask what you seem to desire, since truly I know neither your destiny, nor my own. Is it possible Madam, replied he, that you should not know whom you intent to make happy? If so, alas I may be sure you will make me miserable: For after so many services which I have done you, and so many testimonies of my love which I have given you, if you intended to do me justice, you would not speak thus unto me: However Madam, me thinks that if you were resolved upon my ruin you should do me so much favour as to tell me, to the end, that preventing your choice, by my death, I might save myself so much sorrow as to see my Rival happy, and keep you from being taxed with inhumanity: Methinks Madam, neither Britomartes nor Glacidies have so much right to pretend unto your affection as I have: I have adored you before they ever thought of you: and as for the Prince of Phoceus, he hath had the honour to know you so very lately, and is so much obliged unto you, that he were exceedingly unjust, if he should offer to think you should do more for him, then for me. However it be, said Cleonisbe, and interrupted him, you shall know to morrow about this time, and so shall I, whether I be just or no. As Bomilcar was ready to reply, the King came in and prevented him; yet he was very glad to be so interrupted, because he hoped that he was come to speak unto Cleonisbe in his behalf: so that withdrawing out of his respect, the King began to talk with Cleonisbe in a low voice: In the interim Bomilcar addressed himself unto Glacidia, and to conjure her, that she would not still continue in the same mind she was, in relation to the business betwixt the Prince of Phoceus and him. Since I never use to alter my opinion out of humour, replied she, I cannot do as you would have me, since the very same reasons which induce me to be neither for you nor for him, nor against him, nor against you, do continue still, and are as good to day as yesterday: And therefore do not take it ill if I alter not, since to change is a thing I seldom use, unless some convincing reason tell me that my ground is unjust. Though the Prince of Phoceus replied Bomilcar, hath done me no other hurt, but hindering you from being my mediator unto Cleonisbe, yet I can never hate him enough for it; for had he never come hither, you had been a great promoter of my desires: I do confess it replied she. But I must tell you also, that if you had not been a Rival unto the Prince of Phoceus, I would have done him all the good offices I was able unto Cleonisbe.  
Oh Glacidia, replied he, you have done him too much in doing me none: I assure you Sir, replied she, I have done him no more, than I have done for you. However it be, said he, I am forced to tell you, that if I be not chosen, I do not think I shall be able to keep within those limits you prescribe me, so as methinks you should wish my happiness, lest if I be not I should be forced to take some violent course. To prevent it, replied Glacidia, let me advise you this day to prepare yourself to be miserable to morrow, to the end that your soul not being surprised, may not be shaken. Oh Glacidia said he, I am in extreme fear. you know what I must be: No said she, but I advise you, as I would myself, if the Case were mine, and as I would advise the Prince of Phoceus, if he should speak as you do: As she said so, the Prince of Phoceus entered, who seeing the King talking with Cleonisbe, and Bomilcar with Glacidia, went to his Rival, that he might receive so much satisfaction as to interrupt him, and keep him from persuading Glacidia to any which might prejudice him.  
As for Bomilcar, he was vexed, & in such fear of incensing Glacidia, that he thought it better to retire, and leave his Rival alone with her, then to stay with him. But he was no sooner gone, than the Prince of Phoceus began to conjure Glacidia not to be unfaithful to him: And at least, though you will not favour me, yet do not hinder me: And if I can obtain any more from you, let the Princess if it be possible rather choose Britomartes or Galathes, than Bomilcar, that so if I be not happy, he may far no better than myself.  
Since your request is unjust, replied she, I must deny it, and on the contrary declare, that I will do all I can to persuade the Princess that there are none but you and Bomilcar who are worthy of her choice, to the end that if she choose not you, she may choose him; and if not him, she may choose you; Thus being officious unto you both, I will prejudice both your Rivals: and certainly I should do very well in it, since I conceive it to be advantageous unto Cleonisbe. As Glacidia pronounced these words, the King left Cleonisbe, and me-thought as if he had spoken something which displeased her, for there appeared more melancholy in her eyes then before: And certainly I was not deceived; for after the King was gone, Glacidia understood that his visit had displeased Cleonisbe.  
In the mean while, the Prince of Phoceus who was returned unto the Princess in hopes to find an opportunity of privacy with her, was forced to retire without speaking one word unto her; for considering the ill aspect of Cleonisbe, he thought best to follow the King. But as soon as all the company was gone out of the Chamber, she called Glacidia unto her, and told her how the King with many aggravations had showed her reasons why he preferred Bomilcar before all the rest of the Pretenders, and had absolutely commanded her to choose him.  
As soon as Cleonisbe had imparted this unto Glacidia, one knocked at the door and said that the Prince Carimantes desired to see her: and as Glacidia went out of the Closet, Carimantes entered, where as soon as he was settled, he began to speak unto her. You have had so much company (said he unto the Princess) that I thought it not fit to speak unto you of a business whereupon depends your happiness as well as mine: but now you are alone, I conjure you to tell me whom you intent to make your choice? Since the King, replied she, hath not left me the liberty of my choice, but that I must follow his desires against my own inclination, Bomilcar must be preferred▪ Oh sister said the Prince Carimantes, since the King hath no lawful power absolutely to command you: and since without infringement of the Law, he can only entreat you, I conjure you with all the earnestness of my heart, to choose the Prince of Phoceus, and not Bomilcar. Cleonisbe hearing this, was so surprised that she blushed; but since she was not sorry to hear the Prince her Brother to speak so, and would have been glad to have him persuade her unto it by some convincing reasons and arguments, she seemed to resist him: she told him then that truly the Prince of Phoceus was a Prince of great merits; but since it was not the pleasure of the King to choose him, she thought it her duty to submit. She had no sooner said so, but Carimantes told her that it was fitter for her to submit unto the Laws, then to make her choice by obedience: That he thought that her choice of a Grecian to be better than a Carthahinian; that the cause of the Prince of Phoceus his exile, was glorious; that he had more Subjects, than Bomilcar had Vassals; and that his merits did excel him every way. And above all other considerations, dear Sister said he, the Prince of Phoceus is Brother unto the Princess Onesicrite, unto whom he hath promised to be my mediator, and hath put me in hopes to exclude Menedorus from her heart: Oh Sir, said she, I am afraid that all your arguments which you think so full of reason, would not appear so unto you, but because you are interested; for I beseech you, what reasons should I give unto the King for not submitting to his commands? You may tell him (replied Carimantes) that I advised you: That answer might produce a dangerous consequence replied she; and I had rather (said she and blushed) make him believe that I love the Prince of Phoceus, then to make him suspect any defects of duty in you. But truly (said she, and sighed) the King's words unto me will not give me leave to hearken unto you; for as he did aggravate the matter unto me, if I did not make choice of him, I should cause him to break off the Peace which he made for us with the Carthaginians, and so renew a War: Also he told me, I should ruin my Country, if I did not follow his advice. Oh sister, replied this violent Prince, I must tell you, there is less danger in a Foreign War then in a Civil: and as the King told you, that you should cause a War with the Carthaginians, if you did not choose Bomilcar.  
So I must tell you, that if you do not choose the Prince of Phoceus, you will cause War in your own Country; for I shall the very next day quit the Court, and fortify Marseilles, and with a body both of Greeks and Segoregians, shall carve out Justice unto the Prince of Phoceus by giving you a legal, voluntary, and not a forced choice; for I am not so blind, but I can see, that you esteem the Prince of Phoceus enough to choose him, if the King did not hinder you, and do hate Bomilcar so much, that you would never choose him, if you had the freedom of your own inclination: And therefore Sister satisfy yourself and me, since you may very well do it without any offence unto the Law of the Land. I know very well Sir, replied she, that I may, but I know not whether I ought, and therefore I conjure you to attempt no such violent courses as I perceive you fancy: But to let you see, that the reason why I will not make you any such promise as you desire, is, because I conceive honour will not permit me. I will ingeniously confess, that if I did follow the motions of my own heart, I should prefer the virtue of the Prince of Phoceus before any: And this I do confess, Sir, to the end you may know, that since I value not my own interest, you ought not to think it strange, if I do not sacrifice my honour for your satisfaction: And the rather, because I am confident that though the Prince of Phoceus be not chosen, yet he will not fail to be your mediator unto Onesicrite, since he is obliged unto it, for his own sake, and for hers as well as for yours.  
But Sister, replied Carimantes, if you had loved Bomilcar, what could you do more for him? I assure you Sir, replied she, that my thoughts of him are very far from deserving the name of Love. But Sir, since I am a lover of glory above all things, I beseech you let me take the advice of my pillow, and consider both of the King's reasons and yours. But first tell me, said he, whether you have made him any positive promise to obey his desires? I had not so much power, replied she; but since my answer was only by a respective and humble silence, I believe he thought that I would obey him. If you do obey him, replied Carimantes; you force me to become a Rebel, and to do all that the passion of the Phocean Prince shall desire me, to the end he may favour mine. Therefore Sister, since by obeying the Law, you will prevent a dangerous War; you will do justice unto a Prince who adores you; you will contribute unto my happiness, and keep yourself from being miserable, obey it rather than the King. After this Carimantes being gone, Cleonisbe called for Glacidia, unto whom she imparted all her Brother had said: and that she might not be ignorant of any causes of her inquietude, she told her further, how two of great quality in the Country had told her, that if she did not make choice of Britomartes (who was only of all the Pretenders, that Country man) all the Nobility of the Kingdom would take his part; adding, that Hipomenes did advertise him how Galathes had plotted some great design with Menedorus in case he were not chosen: So as, said she unto Glacidia, which way soever I look, I find myself in the most pitiful condition in the world: For truly if I obey the King, I shall choose Bomilcar whom I hate, I shall not choose the Prince of Phoceus whom I love. I shall incense the Prince my Brother, I shall disoblige all the Nobility; disobliging Britomartes: Also I do expose myself unto the violence and subtlety of Galathes, who is the craftiest man alive. But there cannot be the least thought of choosing either Britomartes or Galathes; for though my natural aversion be stronger against Bomilcar then against them, yet I know, that if I must be unjust unto Bomilcar, it must be in favour of the Phocean Prince: For by choosing one of them, I should equally incense the King and the Prince my Brother, yet they are both of them much to be feared; for the one may raise a party in the State, and the other being very powerful with the King of the Celtes, may cause a vexatious War.  
On the other side, if I should do as the Prince my Brother would have me, and perhaps as myself would as much as he, I should more incense Britomartes and Galathes, then if I should choose Bomilcar. But the great Consideration of all is, that I shall incense the King, and I doubt dishonour myself by it: And after all this Glacidia (added Cleonisbe) can you be so inhuman as to deny me your Counsel in so perplexing a conjuncture? No Madam, replied she, and since you command me, I will take so much liberty as to tell you, that to rid yourself of half your trouble, you must never think either of Galathes or Britomartes: but without any fears either of the Celtes or Segoregians, never trouble your mind with any thing but your choice either of Bomilcar or the Prince of Phoceus.  
Alas Glacidia, said Cleonisbe, by leaving me in doubt of that choice, you leave me in doubt of all. Truly Madam, replied she, this is all I either can or aught to do: For being fully persuaded you cannot choose amiss between them two which I named, I thought I might well say what I did, but ought not to say any more, since I cannot prejudice either Bomilcar or the Prince of Phoceus: Therefore Madam, it is yourself only who must examine the reasons both of the King and the Prince Carimantes, and to do what you shall find most expedient. If I should hearken unto reason, replied she, I should choose Bomilcar; and if I should honour the motions of my own heart, I should choose the Phocean Prince. But for all this (added she and sighed) since I cannot think my reason will be strong enough to overcome this powerful inclination which prompts me to choose the Prince of Phoceus; and since I do not think this inclination, as powerful as it is, can overcome my Reason, I could find in my heart a disposition, neither to choose Bomilcar nor the Prince of Phoceus, nor Britomartes, nor Galathes, but to name the first man of Quality that I shall see in the Temple: So that incensing all at once, both the King, the Prince Carimantes, the Prince of Phoceus, Bomilcar, Galathes, and Britomartes, they may overwhelm me with reproaches, and make me die with sorrow and shame, before I go out of the Temple. Cleonisbe did pronounce these words with such agony of spirit, that they made Glacidia extremely sad; yet she kept herself close unto her resolved limits, and did as much as ever she could to calm the heart of Cleonisbe, without byassing herself more on Bomilcars' side, then of the Prince of Phoceus, or favouring the Prince of Phoceus more than Bomilcar. Yet was she put to a Dilemma after this; for after Cleonisbe had seriously pondered upon it, and had silent stood a while, she turned suddenly towards Glacidia: 'Tis done, said she, I am resolved upon it, and resolved to overcome two most violent passions at once, I mean hatred and its contrary Passion: But that I may be the better able to do it, you must encourage my weakness by your Commendations, and tell me I have done well in choosing Bomilcar, and should do ill if I should choose the Prince of Phoceus: Under your favour Madam, replied Glacidia, I will neither commend nor blame you in this business, but shall tell you as heretofore I have done that you cannot choose ill between the Prince of Phoceus and Bomilcar; yet since you can be just unto the one, without being unjust unto the other, you cannot too well consider upon a matter of such importance.  
Since you leave me to my own sense, replied Cleonisbe: not to deceive myself, I will take the most difficult part, and by consequence the most glorious: I know very well, that I ought not to build too much upon the counsel of the Prince my Brother; for since the interest of his own passion makes him speak, I● ought to suspect all he saith, and rather believe the King then him.  
Moreover since my heart hath been so weak as to engage itself more than I would, 'tis fit I punish it for its unjust hatred unto Bomilcar, that I deprive it of what it loves, and submit unto what it hates. These Glacidia are my thoughts now, and I know not whether you will find me in the same mind to morrow, However, though you have denied me your Counsel, yet I pray you do not also deny me your Prayers unto the Gods, that they will be pleased to give me so much force as to execute what I now resolve upon. After this and a hundred tender expressions, Glacidia left her, and went home, being exceedingly perplexed to see herself driven unto such a cruel necessity, as the next day to grieve with the Prince of Phoceus, for the same thing which obliged her to rejoice with Bomilcar, for she saw Cleonisbe was fully resolved to choose him. Yet she did not think it expedient to speak of it: and indeed she said not a syllable of it either unto Bomilcar or the Prince of Phoceus, who came both unto her. But on the contrary, was so firm to her resolutions, and did compose her countenance so well, that their designs of getting the knowledge of their Destinies from her, were frustrated; for they knowing that she had been late with Cleonisbe, they hoped to get some light out of her; but being mistaken in their hopes, each of them departed. Bomilcar went to the King, and the Prince of Phoceus unto Carimantes.  
As for Britamartes, he had abundance of men of quality with him, to follow him unto the Temple: Galathes was as busy in hindering others from being chosen, as he was to be chosen himself.  
Also Carimantes and Menedorus transacting according to their interests, it might very well be said they were all extremely busy: yet Cleonisbe was most to be lamented, and the condition wherein she was, was so very pitiful, that a worse cannot be imagined: For truly it being permitted her to go into her chamber until the time of going to the Temple, she received a hundred several messages either from the King, or from Carimantes, or from the Prince of Phoceus, or from his three Rivals. Yet she had so sad an aspect, as it was easy to see her heart was in extreme sorrow, and the Prince of Phoceus as well as Bomilcar did observe it. For accompanying the Prince Carimantes, who went to see her a little before she went to the Temple, unto which the King was to lead her, they came to Glacidia in their turns, and expounded her sadness according to their own resentments. Alas Glacidia (said the Prince of Phoceus unto her) what a strange melancholy do I discover in the eyes of the Princess? have I not abundance of reason to fear, if I love her, that I shall be unfortunate, if she should choose me, since their is such a strange repugnancy in her rather than wish a happiness which hath caused such a sad melancholy in her?  
On the other side, Bomilcar reasoning after the same manner of mode he used, and drawing a good presage from this weakness, he told Glacidia, that knowing the Prince of Phoceus was more in Cleonisbes' favour than he was, that he could not choose but be very glad to see so much melancholy in the countenance of the Princess, because it argued that the choice which she was to make did not fully please her, and therefore he had reason to hope, that since the Prince of Phoceus was not likely to be chosen, he himself was: But Madam, a chance happened a little after, which made it apparent that they reasoned more according to their fears, or according to their desires and hopes, then according unto right reason: For as the Prince Carimantes went out, and the Prince of Phoceus and Bomilcar following him, the last of these observed that Cleonisbe blushed as she looked upon his Rival; and immediately after the Prince of Phoceus observed that she changed colour as she looked upon Bomilcar. So as one of them apprehending fear, and the other hope, one and the same thing caused two very different effects in their hearts. For Bomilcar thought she blushed as she looked upon the Prince of Phoceus, only because she should not choose him: And the Prince of Phoceus thought she blushed as she looked upon Bomilcar, because being to choose him, a spark of modesty broke out that colour in her cheeks: so neither the one or other knowing the true reason of her changing colour, both of them did conclude upon false conjectures, for the Princess afterwards confessed unto Glacidia, that when she blushed as she looked upon Bomilcar, it was only out of a resentment of hatred mixed with anger, to see herself forced to choose him. And when she changed colour in seeing the Prince of Phoceus, it was out of shame, at the injustice she was going to do unto her Love, and the violence she was to offer unto her natural inclination.  
In the mean time, according to the custom, Carimantes followed by these four Rivals, and all the men of quality in the Court, went unto the Temple, where all the Sarronides of the Kingdom were present that day. I shall not trouble you Madam, with any description of that crowd of people in the streets and in the Temple, nor mention the magnificence of the four Rivals, nor of Cleonisbes' dress, nor of all the rest of the Ladies, for it would but abuse your patience. Give me leave only to tell you, that the Prince of Phoceus and Bomilcar were the two, whose habits were most admired, and of them two, the Prince of Phoceus had the advantage: As for Cleonisbe, as melancholy as she was, yet she appeared admirably fair: and next the Princess, Amathilde was the most glistering in her dress, and was the superlative both in beauty and youth: And she knew it so well, that she told Glacidia in raillary, remembering their dispute, that upon condition she were sure to be six years older than she was that day, she would most willingly resign her life, and never ask more in this world.  
But in conclusion Madam, the Princess being ready, the King came to take her, and leading her into a Chariot of Triumph wherein they two did fit alone, they went unto the Temple, and all the Ladies followed in other Chariots. Since order is much observed in that Country in all these Feasts, as soon as the King and the Princess Cleonisbe were set in the midst of the Temple upon a Throne, all the Ladies did sit round about on scaffolds where they might have best sight; and on the right and left hand of the Throne stood all the men of quality, amongst which were the four Rivals: As for the Prince Carimantes, he sat upon a scaffold with Onesicrite, placing himself so that Cleonisbe might see him, and that he might make signs unto her, and show unto her, that his happiness depended upon her choice, as well as her own. But Madam, I had forgot to tell you, that at the entrance into the Temple, a knot of Jewels which tied a scarf of Tiffany about Cleonisbes' neck being broke, Glacidia who was next her, advanced to reach them up unto her, whilst the King was harkening unto what the Prince of the Sarronides did say, who was come to receive him at the Gate of the Temple: so as whilst Glacidia was doing her this piece of service, Cleonisbe spoke low unto her: There is yet time enough to give me Counsel, my dear Glacidia, said she unto her, but within this quarter of an hour it will be too late: And if I do not repent of the resolution which I have taken, I shall prefer him whom I hate, before him whom I love: You have not then changed the resolution of yesterday (replied Glacidia, and spoke as low as she could) No (answered Cleonisbe and sighed) but I have so much ado to remain firm, that I dare hardly brag of conquering myself, since at this very minute I have a combat with myself, and strive with more force than I am able to express. As the Princess said so, the knot of Diamonds being fastened, and the King beginning to walk, Glacidia could not answer, but went up to the Scaffold of Onesicrite, where she might see Cleonisbe, the Prince of Phoceus, and Bomilcar; for the two other Rivals were on the opposite side to that where Glacidia was. She saw Britomartes and Galathes also, but it was only their faces; yet interesting herself only in Bomilcar and the Prince of Phoceus, she cared not for observing the rest, nor cared what they thought: But at last Madam, as soon as the King and the Princess his Daughter were set upon the throne in the midst of the Temple, the Prince of the Sarronides began to read the Law, which required that this choice should be made, and gave an absolute free liberty of choice unto the person who was to choose, provided that there was no disproportion in the quality of that party which was chosen. After which, Music, half Gracian, half Gaul, did make the roof of the Temple to Echo, whilst all the Sarronides were praying unto the gods to inspire the Princess with such a choice as might be happy for herself and the State. But Madam, whilst the Prayers were making, what different Devotions were in the heart of Cleonisbe, of the four Pretenders, of Carimantes, of Menedorus, and of Glacidia? But amongst the rest, what may one imagine to be the apprehensions of the Phocean Prince, and of Bomilcar? For my part, who can only guests by seeing them, I profess I pitied them; for sometimes they would look upon the Princess as if they begd●d her favour: sometimes again they would look upon her with some sparks of fury in their eyes, and sometimes they would cast a most extreme melancholy look upon Glacidia.  
In the mean while, Cleonisbe suffered as much as they; for being at the very point of pronouncing sentence, and condemning herself, to pass all her life with a man whom she could not choose but hate, and to part for ever from a Prince whom she could not choose but love, she was sensible of more than ever she could express unto Glacidia, though she employed the most apt and significant words in the world for it. At first her reason would act with her heart as a Rebel which it had tamed: but this Rebel having broken those chains which her reason had put upon it, the War which she thought ended, did but begin, and begun more violently than before. So as whilst they were praying unto the Gods to inspire her, she was in so great a combustion of spirits, that she knew not what to ask them: She had not sooner entertained a thought of that prayer which she framed in her resolution of choosing Bomilcar, but she perceived herself unresolved whether she should choose him or no. However, she had not so much power as to pray that the gods would give her so much boldness as to prefer the Prince of Phoceus: and as she afterwards told Glacidia she had not power to pray that they would inspire her according to their own wills. But at last, her piety being stronger, she forced her heart to submit unto their conduct, and prayed zealously that she might make such a choice, as might more conduce unto her glory then unto her satisfaction. But the more she prayed, the less quiet was in her soul, and more ravelled in her resolutions of choosing. Moreover, her natural averseness to Bomilcar, and her affection to the Prince of Phoceus, assuming fresh forces to torment her, there was a new hot combat in her mind.  
Furthermore, the menaces of civil and foreign War which the King and Carimantes had by their talk made known unto her, filled her imagination with such sad consequences, that they raised a most terrible combustion in her heart.  
Again, her fears to incense the King, or to force Carimantes unto some violent course, did extremely perplex her, but the sight of the Phocean Prince went nearest her heart: And truly Madam, there appeared such lively sorrow in the face of the Prince, that it being easy for Cleonisbe to conclude there was as much love in her heart, as melancholy in his eyes, she was fuller of irresolution and despair then ever. So as when the Prince of the Sarronides had made a learned discourse upon the importance of that choice which Cleonisbe was to make, she knew not in the earth what she would, or what she would not have.  
In the mean time, according to the custom, the King gave a Ring of an inestimable value unto the Princess his Daughter, who after she had taken it, descended from the Throne, and was to put it into the hands of the Prince of the Sarronides; who after he had received it from her, began to speak with such authority, as if she had not been Daughter unto that King unto whom he was a Subject. After I have received this Ring which is here in my hand (said he unto her) it is your part Madam to name unto me the man whom you think worthy of your choiss, to the end I may give it unto him: But first, remember that this choice ought to be free, it ought to be reasonable, and it ought to be worthy of yourself. In order unto these, consult only with your own reason, and let neither fear or any humane respect whatsoever move you to infringe the Law, which requires that you should be equitable in your choice. Be pleased Madam, then to tell me whom you think worthy of your choice: At these words, according to the custom; the Princess would have named him whom she would choose, and would have said Bomilcar. But her tongue having no power to pronounce so much as the first syllable of that name, though she did strive to do it, in lieu of answering, she stood silent: and presently growing pale, then blushing immediately after, her soul was in such a maze, as she knew not whom she saw, or where she was: Insomuch as not being able to be mistress of herself, nor calm so great a storm in so short a time, she laid her hand upon her eyes, she seemed to be so sick and weak, that she was not able to finish the Ceremony: Insomuch as the Prince of the Sarronides being a man of an admirable spirit, and knowing that certainly this accident proceeded from the irresolution of her soul, he went unto her, and said that it were expedient to adjourn the Ceremony until another time: And then Cleonisbe accepting of that motion, did gladly consent it should be so. You may easily imagine Madam, what a rumour this made in the Church, and what amazement it caused in the minds of the four Rivals.  
When the Prince Carimantes saw how the case stood, he came from his scaffold, and going strait unto Cleonisbe, he began to talk with her in a low voice: Oh Sister said he unto her, I beseech you defer not your happiness and mine, one word is quickly pronounced Perhaps too quickly for you this day (replied she and sighed) and therefore it's better to defer it until another time.  
In the mean while, these four Rivals knew not what to think, yet Bomilcar concluded that he had reason to grieve that he was not chosen. And the Prince of Phoceus had so much comfort as to think, that since Cleonisbe had not pronounced Bomilcar, it was almost a certain sign she did not love him, for he knew the King would have her choose him. As for Britomartes and Galathes, since their hopes were more in their factions then any thing else, they were not so angry as Bomilcar that Cleonisbes' choice was deferred. But whilst they were every one reasoning with themselves, the Princess did carry herself as one who was sick, and was carried back unto the Palace, where she was so extremely ashamed, that she could not vanquish herself as from a feigned sickness, she fell sick in earnest. To tell you Madam all the expressions of this Princess when she was alone with Glacidia, is a task not easy: Well cruel woman, said this sick Princess, did I not tell you I stood in need of your reason to strengthen mine? now you see what a shame I have brought upon myself: I would have named Bomilcar, but my heart turned Rebel, and would not suffer me to pronounce him: and I was in such a condition, that if I had not stopped my mouth, I had named his Rival in lieu of him. But Glacidia, make me so ashamed of my weakness, that I may repent; for I must confess it to be so very great, that maugre all my shame, I am in some sort glad that I am yet free, and that I did not name Bomilcar; for if I had overcome myself, my victory had already cost me more tears, than my defeat hath sighs. However, I beseech you chide me for being so little Mistress of my own heart: If I should take so much liberty as to chide you for any thing Madam, replied she, it should be for commanding me to condemn any of your actions; for truly Madam, I think it to be just that you should choose the Prince of Phoceus▪ I think it just you should choose Bomilcar, and I think it just you should hardly resolve which to choose. Thus finding reason in all you do, I cannot condemn you Madam: All I am able to do, is to pity her who cannot choose, as well as those who cannot be chosen. However, the Princess was not in a condition to renew the Ceremony, for a fever of above twelve days did seize upon her, during which time she would not see either the Prince of Phoceus or Bomilcar, or Britomartes, or Galathes: Yet since she could not choose but admit of Carimantes to see her, the Prince of Phoceus had a powerful mediator unto her. Yet Bomilcar did more prejudice himself, than Carimantes could serve the Prince of Phoceus: For thinking he had some injustice done him if he were not chosen he, did not only complain against the Princess, but against the King also, imagining that he had not solicited Cleonisbe enough in his behalf.  
Now, Galathes fearing Bomilcar more than he did the Prince of Phoceus, he carried it so, that the Princess knew how Bomilcar complained against her, and let the King also know what he said against him. As for Britomartes, he went another way to work; for he spoke aloud, that if Justice were not done him, he would unite all his friends, and the friends of all his Rivals who were no happier than himself, to molest the happiness of him that should be chosen: so as there was none but the Prince of Phoceus, which did not openly complain though his soul was as sad as any of the rest: But when he was alone with Glacidia, what did he not say to screw the thoughts of Cleonisbe out of her, which she had upon that day of solemnity; which at the beginning had all appearances of a jollity, but at the end was all melancholy. It seems also, it was a day designed by fate to be universally sad, for three extraordinary accidents did fall out upon it: and amongst the rest, nothing was more talked of, then that the fair and young Amathilde should that day fall sick, and of a sickness so strange and terrible, that all Physicians said, that though she herself escaped, yet her beauty could not: Yet they did not at first tell her as much, but on the contrary, knowing her humour, they assured her that she would recover her beauty with her health.  
In the mean time, the violence of Bomilcar having displeased the King, the Prince Carimantes closed with that opportunity, and went unto him one morning without acquainting Cleonisbe: and the King lending him a willing ear, with much boldness and eloquence, he hinted unto him that he should not suffer Cleonisbe to marry a man who was so insolent as to pretend unto that honour as a due unto him, insomuch as the King did agree Bomilcar was too blame: After this, driving the nail to the head, he intimated many inconveniences which were to be feared, if he suffered her to marry either Britomartes or Galathes; and that much less danger would ensue, if he preferred the Prince of Phoceus before any of the rest: At first, Carimantes found some repugnancy in the King's mind, not but that he had a high esteem of the Phocean Prince, and loved him extremely: but being an exile from his Country, this stuck much in his mind. Yet Carimantes would not be repulsed for but he pressed the matter so home, that he obliged the King to think well of him: so as going to carry this welcome news unto the Prince of Phoceus, he made him extremely joyed, and obtained from him a confirmation of his promise, to oblige Onesicrite to receive the honour he did her very favourably.  
The truth is Madam, the Prince Carimantes being joined, nothing could oppose them, and their power was stronger than Bomilcars', Britomartes, and Galathes all together. I shall not insist Madam upon a relation of this important Negotiation; but only tell you that whilst this fever which the Princess had, was the pretence of seeing no body; Carimantes carried the Prince of Phoceus unto her, and made her confess unto him that she was glad the King would permit her to do Justice unto his merit. It is not an easy matter Madam, to relate his raptures of joy: and yet it was greater, when he understood that Carimantes had negotiated so well with the King, that he gave his consent they should be happy, and likewise did permit the Prince his son to marry Onesicrite. However these things were carried so closely, that they made no noise in the Court: For since the meetings of the King, and the Prince of Phoceus, of Cleonisbe and Carimantes, were always with much caution, nothing was divulged. Moreover, Aristonice writing almost every day unto Onesicrite, to exhort her unto the public good before her own private satisfaction, she resolved to sacrifice her passion unto the good of her Country, and did so affirmatively promise it unto this illustrious Virgin of Diana, as there was no cause of any doubt but that she would overcome herself. So that when the Prince of Phoceus was advertised by Aristonice how the case stood, and wished his Sister to break off with Menedorus, since Sfurius would not let her marry him, and when afterwards he desired her to receive the affection of the Prince Carimantes, she told him that she would obey him: 'tis true, she told him so with a sigh, yet it was after such a manner, as one might see she intended to keep her promise: And indeed, from that day forward, she desired Menedorus to withdraw his affection from her, giving all her reasons which might induce him to hearken unto her desires.  
But though she gave him as sweet language as is imaginable, yet he was so full of sorrow and anger that he could not dissemble his resentments, but accused her of inconstancy and ambition. Also he did menace both the Prince Carimantes and the Prince of Phoceus so highly, that Onesicrite, as sweet a temper as hers was, she be ganto be angry against him for giving such irreverent language. Insomuch as smothering all that tenderness of heart which she had towards Menedorus, she absolutely charged him never to see her again: so as this incensed Lover beginning his obedience by leaving her, he went to Galathes, and imparted all his sorrows unto him, as Galathes did the like to him again.  
In the mean time, since Cleonisbe began to recover, the King and the Prince Carimantes resolved, that to hinder any commotion in the State, Cleonisbe should temper the spirits of these three Rivals which were to be rejected, and to tell them handsomely her intentions before the day of solemnity, to the end they should not be surprised, and be absent.  
The Princess was hardly persuaded unto this; but the King absolutely commandding her, she resolved to be obedient, and indeed she was so: For the Fever having quite left her, and they permitted to see her, these three unfortunate Lovers came to present their Compliments of joy for her recovery: So that she taking this opportunity, did declare their dooms unto them one after another. But though she employed all her wit and eloquence to make them receive it patiently, yet all would not do.  
As for Britomartes, he being high and proud, told her in a high manner (after she had desired him to pretend no longer unto her choice for several reasons) that she was unjust unto his quality and virtue. For as she told him, to qualify his mind that it was not but that she esteemed him very much, he interrupted her. Since it is so Madam (said he unto her) it is enough to authorise all my attempts; for since you do not think me unworthy of you, I must tell you, that I do not think I shall do any thing against those respects I owe you; when I shall do all, I am able to possess in honour, which you confess I may enjoy without injustice: And so Madam, I shall endeavour all ways possible to keep you from an ill choice. Thus Madam, did Britomartes receive his sentence.  
As for Galathes, since he had the art of dissimulation, he seemed to receive all that Cleonisbe said with all humble respect, and with a thousand signs of love, not one of any anger, he only told her, that he would do all he was able to obey her, but yet feared that he could not. Afterwards Bomilcar being come to Cleonisbe, whose mind was incensed against him, by the complaints he had made against her and the King her Father, she would not pronounce his doom with any words of sweetness: But on the contrary, she spoke so sharply, that she was out of all patience. Fie Madam (said he unto her, after she had absolutely charged him not to pretend unto her choice) Can you remember my most violent and constant passion, and treat me thus? 'tis true (pursued he) I complained both against you and the King: But Madam, how could I do less, seeing the injustice which was done me? Might it not well be said, that my passion was not worthy of you, if my resentments had been less violent, or had been more wise in my anger? For the very truth is, what have I not done to deserve you? and in how great hopes hath the King put me, to be preferred before all my Rivals.  
Moreover Madam, can you think I am able to endure that an exile Prince should take a happiness from me which I have purchased by a million of services? And because he hath been weatherbeaten, and found safety under the shelter of your favour, therefore it must be I who must suffer shipwreck? Think upon it Madam, consider it seriously, and do not force me to despair. Cleonisbe then thinking herself too blame for incensing a man who had some reason to complayn, though he was much to be blamed for complaining so violently after the Ceremony, she resolved to accord a misfortune which might happen, and persuade him more mildly to receive his misfortune. To testify unto you (said she unto him) that you have no reason to accuse the Prince of Phoceus for your being no better in my thoughts, I will open my very heart unto you, and confess my whole weakness and injustice. I will tell you then, that since I am not a very stupid, I know very well your worth: I know your original is great, and that your Ancestors have been illustrious Citizens of Carthage, and also Kings of Numidia: Moreover I know you to be a man of much spirit, and courage, and generosity: Also I know how I am obliged unto you by a thousand services you have done me: But I know also, and I must tell it, that there hath ever been such a kind of conceit in my heart as I am not able to express, and which would never allow you to love me. Yet notwithstanding this natural antipathy which I have in vain striven against, I was resolved to choose you, and had named you upon the day of solemnity, if my heart could have submitted unto my reason, and my tongue have pronounced the word Bomilcar.  
How sad a fate soever it be (replied he and fighed) to be hated: yet I think myself in some sort obliged to hear you say, that you did not choose me because you hated me, rather than because you loved the Prince of Phoceus: And I wish unto the God's Madam (said he, lifting up his eyes to heaven) that you hated me half as much more, so you could love him half less: For truly Madam, I am sure that if he were no happier than myself, I should not be so unhappy as I am. Yet Madam, as hated as I am, since you would have chosen me, why did you not? or why will you not? I will not, replied she, because I conceive that I should wrong you, and very ill requite the affection you have unto me if I should inseparably tie you and your fortunes unto one who can never love you: so that without charging either the King, or the Prince of Phoceus, or myself of any injustice, attribute it unto a sovereign power, against which nothing can resist, and which causeth that I cannot be Master of my own destiny. You have a friend, added she, who can witness that I he not, and who can assure you that I have done all I can for you against myself: how Madam, replied he, did Glacidia know that you have hated me? I did conceal it long from her, replied she, but I must confess at last I told her I could not love you, and I asked her pardon, lest she should hate me for it. Then Madam, replied he, I have no more to say, unless this, that as you cannot choose but continue your hate, so I beg that I may have leave to continue loving you.  
After these words Bomilcar rose up, and went away so sad and angry, as no mortal man could be more. As soon as he was gone, the Prince of Phoceus came in, and finding her alone, he began to discourse of his passion with abundance of delight; for since it was approved of both by the King and Carimantes, Cleonisbe did freely permit him. So that passing insensibly from one thing to another, the Princess did let him know that Glacidia did know what advantageous thoughts she ever had of him, and told him what discourse she had with her concerning Bomilcar. Then both these two friends of Glacidia did in one day make several and different Complaints against her: For Bomilcar complained extremely that she never told him how the Princess hated him: and the Prince of Phoceus murmured very much, that she should so long conceal from him the affection of Cleonisbe: But this wise and discreet person did so well satisfy them, that it was not fit for her to do otherwise then she did, as they ceased all Complaints, and held her in high admiration: For truly said she unto Bomilcar, as much hated as you were, you were very near your desired happiness: And as much loved as you were (said she unto the Prince of Phoceus) you were very near to be discarded for ever: So as desiring neither to hurt nor help you, I would never impart such things as you could not know, without drawing some advantage one upon another, which I neither would, nor aught to do.  
But Madam, not to insist any longer upon things of trivial consequence, it was resolved that the first day on which the Princess was able to stir abroad, the solemnity should be accomplished. The worst was, it could not be done in private, because the Law required that the doors of the Temple should be open that day, unto all men of quality in the Kingdom, either strangers or others: and it was much feared lest some tumult should arise. Yet all possible order was taken to prevent it; for besides the pretenders unto Cleonisbe, the despair of Menedorus was much feared. Yet since the custom was, that the marriage should be solemnised within fifteen days after the first Ceremony, there was hopes all might be passed over without any disorder: and that if any of these Lovers would make any attempts, it would be in this interval. But there was a mistake; for the imperious humour of Britomartes looking at the shame which would reflect upon him if he were not chosen, did endeavour to discover who it was whom Cleonisbe intended to choose, to the end he might send him a challenge. But being not well informed, and because in common prudence, she should rather choose Bomilcar then either of his two Rivals, he believed Bomilcar to be the man who hindered him from his happiness: So as without more delay, he sought for an occasion of meeting with him, and found it. But Madam, the strangest passage was, at the very same time that Britomartes intended to fight with Bomilcar, Bomilcar intended to fight with the Prince of Phoceus. 'Tis true, he concealed his design, and Glacidia, as foreseeing as she was, did not suspect it: But Britomartes and Bomilcar meeting in a place where none were but themselves: Since doubtless you are not ignorant (said Britomartes unto him) what just pretences I have unto the Princess, so I must tell you I am not ignorant of yours: But since I believe neither you nor I do know which of us shall be chosen, I come to make such a proposition unto you, as honour will not permit you to deny me; If so as you say, answered Bomilcar, you may assure yourself I shall most willingly embrace it. Then promise me (replied Britomartes) that if the Princess choose you, you will fight with me the next morning, and I will promise you that if I be chosen I will fight with you if you please. I promise it, replied Bomilcar; but Britomartes (said he) in promising this I promise nothing, for neither you nor I shall be chosen: Oh that it would please the Gods you were put unto the necessity of seeing me with a sword in my hand. Bomilcar spoke this with such an air as persuaded Britomartes that his heart and his tongue went together: And the proud Gaul having got a promise of fight with Bomilcar, in case it was his fate to be happy, resolved upon a revenge on him that should be so, who ere it was, and went to tell the same unto Galathes and the Prince of Phoceus. Thus he challenged his three Rivals all in one day.  
But Madam, the day of Solemnity being come, Cleonisbe was not so unresolved as she was before; and her own inclination being authorized by the King and Carimantes, she pronounced the name of the Phocean Prince aloud, when the Prince of the Sarronides asked her whom she thought worthy of her choice, so as this sage Sarronide causing him to draw nigh, and having given this ring unto him which he received from Cleonisbe, this Prince accepted of it with all reverence, and returned a Compliment suitable unto his spirit and affection: After which, the King approved of this choice, and the Temple did ring with shouts of joy. But at last, the Music causing the tumultuous noise to cease, they thanked the gods for so good a choice.  
In the mean while, Bomilcar, Galathes, and Britomartes retired without any shares in these public joys, each of them ruminating upon them several designs. As for the Prince of Phoceus, his Joys were so high, that he valued not the Combat which he was to have with Britomartes, and appeared as pleasant all that day as it was possible for any man to be. In the mean time, Glacidia according to her resolutions, grieved for Bomilcar, and rejoiced for the Prince of Phoceus, but it was not in any way of dissimulation, for she was really glad, and really sad: And both her generosity and sincerity was such, that she confessed unto Bomilcar though she was extremely sorry that he was miserable, yet she was extremely glad that the Prince of Phoceus was happy. Also she told the Prince of Phoceus, that though she was well satisfied with his good fortune, yet she could not choose but be much troubled to see Bomilcar miserable: and she did so well divide her heart between these two friends, that she did not any injustice unto either of them.  
Since honour and love are most inconsistent together in one heart, the Prince of Phoceus would not stay until Britomartes should hint him unto the performance of his promise; for he sent him a Letter which intimated that he was ready to keep his word▪ And the next morning they fought, where the Prince of Phoceus disarmed Britomartes, though he was one of the strongest and most valiant men in the world. But as he returned from this fight, he met Bomilcar in a great solitary place, who knowing how squares went, came unto him. Since I will not constrain you to give me satisfaction (said he unto him) as you have done Britomartes, until you be recovered of your weariness which conquering so brave an Enemy hath caused, I will not at this time desire you to draw your sword: But since you are a gallant man, I do conceive you will be ready to morrow about this time to give me this satisfaction.  
The Prince of Phoceus seeing a fit occasion to show his secret hatred of Bomilcar, without any offence either unto Cleonisbe or Glacidia, since he did assault him the first. he answered him in such a manner as did let him see he did not love him. To testify unto you (said he unto him) that my victory hath not put me to a necessity of any resting to vanquish you, we will without more delay end all differences betwixt us.  
In saying so, the Prince of Phoceus drew his sword, and Bomilcar his: For since they had with them only one Page a piece, and were in a place of privacy, it was easy for them to satisfy both their hatred and their love. And certainly Madam, they began to fight with so much fury, that if the gods had not sent Hipomenes and myself in the very nick of time to part them, their Combat had been fatal unto both. For from the place where we first discovered them until we came up to them, I perceived they fought as if they had resolutions either to vanquish or die: Do what we could, they were both wounded when we came unto them: 'Tis true, the Prince of Phoceus was less hurt than Bomilcar; for he had only a slight hurt in his left hand, but Bomilcar very considerably on his right side.  
In the mean time, Hipomenes and myself were extremely surprised; for we hearing that Britomartes had challenged him, you may imagine we wondered to see him in hand with Bomilcar: Also you may imagine Madam that these two Combats made a great noise in the Court, and added much unto the glory of the Phocean Prince. The truth is, there fell out several accidents that day, which made all discourse sad: For Madam, be pleased to know that Britomartes who had a proud soul, was so grieved at the loss of his Mistress, and to be vanquished by his Rival, that he would needs kill himself with the same sword which his enemy had restored unto him: and if his friends had not kept vigilant eyes upon him all the while he was in his raptures of fury, he had not lived two hours after his defeat.  
Again, there was in Marseilles an old man, who having passed all his life for one that was wise would needs throw himself down a Precipie to deliver himself from his sorrows, that he could not die in the place where he was born.  
Again, Amathilde being much recovered, did call for a Glass; and finding that she was never like to be fair again, she fell into such horrid despair, that feigning some had taught her a medicine for her face, wherein was an ingredient of dangerous poison, she caused one of her women to bring it unto her; and in lieu of putting it to the use she said she would, she poisoned herself. But she only knowing the virtue of this ingredient, but not the quantity to kill one, she took not so much as did execute her intentions: And so, the thing being discovered, they gave her remedy and Antidotes against her will. You may well conceive Madam, that three such accidents as these chancing in one day, did seem very strange: But the greatest disaster of all was, and to show there was some malignant constellation which did show its influence by inspiring violent thoughts; there was a man of Liguria, and of good quality, who intending to dwell amongst the Segoregians, had ordered all his goods to come by Sea: but his misfortune was, the ship which was to bring them, perished, yet we understood that he took his loss very patiently and constantly for a whole year, but now would needs throw himself into the Sea.  
Thus Madam, these four accidents chancing from different causes, and happening in one day, caused all the Sarronides to assemble, and the Council of six hundred also: For since the spirits of the People were much disposed to applaud the courages of such as had recourse unto death to deliver themselves from any misfortune, it was feared that this would produce very ill consequences: and if some order were not taken, these examples might be followed by other unfortunate People.  
As for the Sarronides, their advice was, that to prevent the like disasters, the glory of the Action must be taken away, and to set some mark of ignominious imbecility upon it. But the Council of six hundred which assembled by the permission of the Phocean Prince, they argued after another manner, and said, that since the action might either be base or generous, according to the several motives which caused it, so they must not be condemned all in general: and to prevent the frequency, it was not requisite absolutely to forbid it: So that not to deprive men of that liberty of dying which the Gods hath left unto them, and to prevent also that they shall not slightly throw away their lives, it were expedient a Law were made, by which every person who would come unto Assembly and propound the causes which moves them to die, they should be received, and may boldly demand poison of the Judges, which shall be granted or denied according as they shall think fit: Concluding, that since it is not just a man should be a Judge and party in his own cause, so he ought not to judge and dispose of his own life as he would.  
In conclusion Madam, this Law was established, and two men of the Assembly were chosen to keep poison in a golden Cup, to be given unto them whom they thought fit to receive this last remedy. You may imagine Madam, that these accidents and this new Law did furnish all tongues with talk enough: but I assure you, the Prince of Phoceus was more like to die with joy then poison: He had the satisfaction also to understand that Glacidia was much incensed against Bomilcar for fight for she told him, that if he were less miserable than he was, she would withdraw her friendship from him, adding with much generosity, that she was a Petitioner unto the Prince of Phoceus, that he would give her leave to pardon Bomilcar the injury he had offered in assaulting him: But to make the satisfaction of the Phocean Prince more full, Cleonisbe would go unto Marseilles to see Aristonice, with intentions to stay there some days; the King thinking it convenient she should remain there until the Nuptials, to the end Bomilcar and the Prince of Phoceus might not be together in one place. Also the Prince Carimantes was very glad that Onesicrite was to be so near Aristonice, because she would confirm her in her new resolution.  
But that the presence of Menedorus might not prejudice the design, Sfurius commanded him to stay with the King, so as this journey was all pleasure. Yet the heart of Onesicrite was full of sorrow; for she had much ado to entertain the affection of Carimantes, and forget Menedorus: and I am confident there are few persons who have done things more difficult for the good of their Countries, than Onesicrite did for hers. However she set as good a face upon it as she could; lest the Prince Carimantes should perceive the troubles of her mind, and indeed she went unto Marseilles with some show of joy in her countenance. You may well imagine Madam, that the Prince of Phoceus would entertain Cleonisbe with all imaginable honours: And that Aristonice also was full of acknowledgements unto the Princess for the honour she did her.  
Since Glacidia was one amongst the rest in this Voyage, she did much contribute unto the pleasure of it: And for three days together. I assure you there was not one in all this illustrious company except Onesicrite, who did not think every minute to be very well spent: And though we had several informations, that Bomilcar and Galathes were plotting some great design, and that the first was almost cured of his wound: Yet since the Prince of Phoceus was to marry Cleonisbe as soon as all things were in readiness for the solemnity, we did not fear that any thing could hinder his happiness.  
As we were thus without any Cares but how to find out fresh pleasures for every day, it was told the Princess Cleonisbe, that there was a Lady which had sent unto the Council of six hundred, to ask of them the poison according to the new established Law. This adventure being extraordinary enough to move curiosity, since it was never heard of before, that there should be Judges to arbitrate upon the life and death of such as would not live, Cleonisbe was very desirous to be at this sad Ceremony: 'Tis true, that it was with an intention worthy of her generosity; for her design was, to see if she who desired death had any such misfortune which she could help, to the end she might infuse desires of life into her. Onesicrite was likewise of the same Curiosity; and as for Glacidia, she most of all desirous to know what reasoos could move any to renounce life, so as she was very earnest with both these Princesses to be present when this Lady demanded poison of the six hundred.  
So as Cleonisbe making their desires known unto the Prince of Phoceus, he found out an expedient for it; for since a place was to be built purposely for this Council, it was so contrived, that the Prince of Phoceus could look into it out of his Chamber: so as this being the place resolved upon for the Princess, the Prince Carimantes, and those of their Retinue, it was concluded that the Council of six hundred should the next morning assemble to hear the reasons of the Lady, and to put in practice this Law which themselves had made. But we were much surprised to hear that there were two more who demanded audience for the like business: So as all Curiosities be redoubled, they expected the hour of this sad Ceremony with much impatience.  
I shall not trouble you Madam with any description of the order which this Assembly held, but only tell you, that after the Judges had taken their places; after the Prince of Phoceus, as chief of the Council had taken his place; and after the Prince Carimantes, Cleonisbe, Onesierite, Glacidia, some other Ladies and myself were in the Chamber, where we could see and hear all passages. We saw a Page of a handsome presence enter, and who by his handsome deportment before the Assembly, seemed to be something above his condition; Our greatest surprise was to see, that he held the picture of a Lady in his hand: But though this Picture was drawn at large, since it was not turned directly towards us, we saw it but by halves, and yet we knew it to be a very fair one; For since the youngest men of this Council did sit next the Page who held it, we perceived by their actions that they admired the beauty of this Picture. But after this handsome Page had obtained leave to speak, he made it known unto the Council, that the fair person whose picture they saw, having the misfortune to lose that excellent beauty which they admired in her picture, which was in her person much above all representations; she had sent by him to beseech them they would be pleased to grant her the poison, as the only remedy which she could imagine to comfort her after her loss: And sirs, to testify unto you, that if this remedy be fit to be granted unto any, it is unto the person who sent me, I need only to tell you sirs, that though she desires death more than ever any desired life, yet she could not find a heart to come herself and demand it; for she cannot do it, unless she show herself in the same condition wherein she is, which would be a greater torment to her than you can imagine.  
Sirs, she hath commanded me to tell you, that since she hath lost all she loved, and all which she thinks could render her amiable, you cannot without injustice deny her the only remedy for such misfortunes. She hath further commanded me to let you know, that it is inhumanity to let her live, because since she will neither see nor be seen, and can neither quit her solitude nor stay in it, it were incredible torment to force life upon her: And if your authority do not release her, she will sufrer more than ever any did; For indeed sirs, whensoever she looks upon her picture, she swims in tears: and if she look in a Glass, she is mad, and is not Mistress of herself: It is you Sirs, who must judge of the life and death of this person, who demands the poison.  
But before you pronounce sentence, and after I have obeyed her whose slave I am, I beseech you give me leave to tell you, that I should never have done this for her, unless she had promised me my liberty in recompense of this service, for I was her slave. But to the end this service I have done her may not prove fatally sad unto her, I dare be so bold as to tell you, that not being what I appear to be; but having been brought up in another condition than this into which War hath brought me, I can assure you that she who here desires to die, because she hath lost her beauty, hath so many beauties in her mind, that she deserves you should deny what she asks, and what I ask for her, to the end I may enjoy the greatest of all goods which is my liberty, and to testify hereafter, that she may be loved and not be fair.  
As this generous slave did say so, he turned the picture, so as we plainly knew it to be the portractture of Amathilde, and consequently intertesting ourselves the more in the judgement which was to be given, we expected with much impatience, the opinion of the Judges. But after the examination of the business they told this slave that when the gods do take away from men those goods which they were sure to lose: This is no lawful cause to desire death; For as soon as they began to live, they ought to expect the loss of them: yet to have some regard unto the great affection which Amathilde had unto her beauty; they ordained, that if after the space of six years, she came unto the Council of six hundred, and declared unto them, that in all that time she received no consolation for the loss of her beauty, they would then grant what they now deny. This sentence was thought so just, both by him that was to receive it and those who heard it, that they did as much commend the Council of six hundred, as they blamed the despair of Amathilde.  
After this Madam, we saw enter an old man, who I told you desired to die, because he could not live out of his own Country: but he entered with so much gravity, that never man had an aspect of less despair than he: Also he spoke with so much eloquence and force against banishment, and had such excellent expressions of love to his country, that he even melted the hearts of his hearers: But being very old, the weakness of his voice forced silence upon him. Yet the judges not blinded by his eloquence, told him, that the reasons which would move them to grant poison, was, when an unfortunate man, whose miseries had lasted long, and could not meet with any cure.  
But his age was such, as he might well think the remedy which he demanded was very nigh unto him: and therefore it was not fit for them to alter the decree of the gods. Thus sending him away after good exhortatinos to overcome himself, we saw appear the Ligurian man of quality, who as I told you having lost all his goods above a year since, would now die: But Madam, I never in my life saw a man with a more melancholy look then he, yet he had a good presence with him, and as melancholy as his physiognomy seemed, yet he had a sprightly kind of a look.  
As soon as he came unto the place where he was to speak, and after he had done reverence to the Judge's sirs (said he unto them) though I am to speak unto men of most deep Judgements, yet I have need to mention all my reasons which invite me unto a desire of death: For Sirs, since you must be poor, before you can know what poverty is, the greatest of all evils: and since I both hope and know this misery will never befall you, I must beseech you to let me describe my misfortune: Do not think Sir, that I rank in the number of my reasons which move me to die, those of a covetous or a voluptuous man grown poor: For truly it is not abundance of riches which I regret, nor all the the pleasures which follow them: I know how to live in a Cottage as well as a palace: I can easily persuade myself, that the fewer Domestickes I have, the fewer enemies I have. I can live well enough without a full spread Table: I can find out good diversions which will cost me nothing: the murmur of a River, or the chanting of Birds, please me as well as all those which are at so dear a rate: But Sirs, that I can easily live without all those, yet alas I can live with friends, and yet I have lost them all, since I am brought unto that low condition as makes them think they can expect no profitable turns from me: I once thought that I had more than ever any had: but now I find by woeful experience that none ever had fewer than myself: I am now quite another man unto them, since fortune hath forsaken me: as pleasing as I was wont to be unto them, I am now but an impertinent fellow, and troubles them: and now I perceive so well that they never loved me but only my fortunes, as I cannot choose but hate in them a thought so base as to cease loving virtue, because it is grown poor: and to testify unto you Sirs, that it is merely the loss of my friends which makes me desperate, or to say better that it is merely their baseness which drives me into a fury against myself, you may only be pleased to consider that I have lived a year after all my losses: yet I was as poor the very first day after my losses as I am now: but because I was still in hopes to be rich in the greatest riches of all riches, my friends, therefore I constantly sustained my misfortune. But now after a whole years sad experience, finding that unfortunate men can never have any friends, and that I am not able to live without them, therefore Sirs, I conjure you to grant me leave to die: And I conjure you unto it with the more ●atnestness, because it concerns all civil society, and my own glory that I live no longer. For truly Sirs, I apprehend such horror against those who have forsaken me, because I am not rich, that I am become a hater of all men in general, and begin to be unjust unto others, as others are unto me.  
As soon as this generous unfortunate man had done speaking, Cleonisbe being much touched with his discourse, sent to desire the Assembly not to pronounce sentence, until she had let them know something what she thought. So the Council appointing six of themselves to go and receive Cleonisbes' pleasure, that Princess told them, how she held him who spoke to be so brave a man, as to make him happy, and to oblige him unto a desire of life. She offered to give him more goods than he had lost, and to comfort him for the loss of his falsh earted friends which forsook him, she offered to become his friend, and a friend that would be more generous than they. You may easily judge Madam, how much this great act of Cleonisbes' did move admiration in all the Assembly: and how the Prince of Phoceus who was chief extolled her. So as in lieu of giving sentence, they made Eulogies unto the virtue of this Princess. And yet they did pronounce one, and told this generous Ligurian, that if the Princess Cleonisbe had not found a remedy unto his misery, greater than the misery itself, they would have granted the poison which he demanded, since they were constrained to confess, that poverty without friends, is the greatest misery in the world.  
But since the amity of the Princess was a recompense a thousand times above his losses, they ordained that he should live to serve her, since he could not desire death without ingratitude. The man who was at first disposed to leave life, could hardly leave his thoughts of death: But having a generous soul, he was extremely moved at the generosity of Cleonisbe: and he acknowledged, that since there was one such person in the the world as she, it was not just to leave it: So as being carried where she was, he gave her thanks for the honour she had done him. But Madam (added he) to justify my design of dying, I will accept but half of that you are pleased to offer: And receiving upon my humble and thankful knee, the honour of your good will, I will refuse that abundance of riches which you offer me, which perhaps will serve me to no other use, but to get new friends as unworthy as my first: so as Madam, esteeming myself very rich in your friendship, leave me in such a condition, as I may show that I merit it, by making it appear, that virtue can surmount poverty, and patiently endure it, provided it be not waited upon with scorn which commonly attends upon it: I shall not tell you Madam, how Cleonisbe answered, for I should wrong her in changing some of her words: But let me only tell you, that she would have him accept of both her offers: and indeed she kept her word: and by the means of the King, the Prince her brother, and the Prince of Phoceus, gave him much more than he lost; Also giving it unto him with her own hands, though she had much ado to make him take it.  
But Madam, to return from whence I digressed, and to relate all that passed in the Council of six hundred, be pleased to know, that after this Ligurian had done his compliment unto Cleonisbe, we saw appear in the Assembly a man whose person we knew not, who presenting Letters unto the chief or the Council, and beseeched him that they might be read aloud, for they were the reasons of a miserable Lover who demanded the poison. Then one of the Assembly opening the Letters, began to read them: And if I were able to repeat what I heard, doubtless you would say, that he who wrote that Letter, deserved that death which he demanded: For I am confident, never was sorrow set out in more sa● colours, nor described with more moving aggravations. And Cleonisbe, Onesicrite, and Carimantes were extreme attentive at the reading of it: I shall only tell you Madam, that this sad Lover began the recital of his misery, with an Elegy of the beauty and merit of the person he loved. Afterwards he said, that he had loved her from her Cradle, adding that he had the happiness not to be hated: After this, he aggravated all the proofs of that love which he bore unto her, and did make it so well appear that he had great hopes of being loved, and of being loved constantly, that the minds of all his Auditors were disposed to blame her, if she became perfidious.  
Thus Madam, having prepared the hearts of his Judges, he showed, that without giving her the least cause of complaint, some thoughts of inconstancy or ambition had moved this person to cast him off, and to overwhelm him with misery, she favoured a Rival unto whom he was extremely obliged: So as honour not suffering him to seek revenge, and Love not giving him leave to live, he asked leave to die. And he asks it the rather, because he finds such tumultuous thoughts in his heart, that rather than let his Rival enjoy his Mistress, he shall undertake such a business as will cause the death of an infinite number of innocent persons which he shall engage in his interests.  
Indeed he made it appear he was capable of any undertaking with love, ambition, and jealousy could inspire into him: And he intimated by some ambiguous words, that his death would prevent very great misfortunes, and deliver him from great torments, so as he had all the reason in the world to desire death, and they to grant it. And indeed the major part of the Judges did say, that since the death of this unfortunate Lover would be advantageous both unto him and others, they could not find out a fitter example to show, that the Law which they had made was not useless, and so they ought not to deny death unto a man who by dying would save the lives of many others.  
Sfurius for his particular was one of the forwardest to grant poison nnto him who demanded it, and pressed it on: But upon this condition, that this desperate Lover should the same hour present himself before the Assembly; for the Law required a sight of him who was to die, that they might know whether his reason was free, and whether he knew what he asked. Then the man who spoke, telling the Judges that he would immediately carry their answer unto the party who would die. The cup of gold which held the poison was brought in: and it was no sooner set upon the Table, but we saw Menedorus enter, who boldly presenting himself before the Judges, told them that it was he who demanded poison, thinking with admirable resolution for the Justice which they had done him.  
I leave you to judge Madam, how Carimantes was surprised at the sight of his Rival: How Sfurius was astonished that he should doom poison to his son: and how Onesicrite was amazed to see her Lover desire to die for her. Also I leave it unto your imagination Madam, how great the tumult was amongst the Assembly who were not ignorant of Menedorus his love unto Onesicrite: But give me leave to tell you one very remarkable thing; Sfurius who was a high lover of his Country, after he had appeased the first motion which nature caused in his heart, he was so angry to see that Menedorus could not surmount himself, that he surmounted his paternal tenderness, and told the Assembly that his son did not only deserve the poison as an unfortunate man, but as a Delinquent, since he would not sacrifice his particular satisfaction unto the good of the public interest, and therefore he desired that the sentence which could not be revoked, might be speedily executed.  
Whilst Sfurius was speaking, Menedorus turning his head towards Onesicrite, he saw her eyes swim in tears: and presently after, she not being able to endure the excess of her sorrows, she leaned towards Glacidia, who stood behind her, and swooned in her arms: so as whilst all means was using to bring her unto herself again, Carimantes seeing her in that condition, he knew not what to think or do. The sorrows of Onesicrite did so plainly let him see, that she loved Menedorus, and not himself, that his reason told him he ought not to love her any longer: And the despair of his Rival did so convince him of the greatness of his passion, that he was persuaded it was injustice to oppose him. But on the other side, his love checking his reason, it would not give him the liberty to follow it. Furthermore, the Prince of Phoceus, though he was very much vexed at the violent resolution of Menedorus, yet he durst not make show of all his pity, for fear of incensing Carimantes.  
In the mean time, Menedorus seeing the Cup which contained the remedy against his torment, he went towards the Table on which it stood to finish his doom, but one of his Judges told him that it was not yet time: And for his particular, he conceived that it was not fit the poison should be granted unto him, but that the Judgement which had been pronounced was null and void: For said she, since it appears by the sorrows of the Princess Onesicrite, that you are more than indifferent unto her, you are not so happy as to have any recourse unto death; and so much the less, because you informed the Assembly that you were not loved, whereas it seems you know not the true state of your fortune: and so having pronounced a sentence upon a false ground, the sentence itself must consequently be false, and fall.  
This opiniou being liked by all the Assembly, every one adhered to it except Sfurius, who could not belly the generosity of his soul. As for Menedorus, he extremely opposed that pity in the Judges, and should have opposed it more, if the Prince Carimantes had nor sent to tell him, that he had found out a more noble way to terminate his pain: so as all the Assembly believing that the Prince had overcome himself, they put Menedorus into the custody of some friends, they carried Onesicrite unto her Chamber, where Carimantes followed her, and all the Assembly broke up.  
As soon as Onesicrite opened her eyes, and began to speak, she desired Carimantes, not knowing to whom she spoke, that they would give her the poison as well as Menedorus: So as this Prince not being able to endure this object, he went out of her chamber; and not imparting the violent design which he had in his mind, he sent secretly to tell Menedorus, that to testify he had right to dispute with him for the possession of Onesicrite, he engaged his word to fight with him, if he could not surmount himself; and indeed Madam, without any more delay, it was resolved that in the morning they should fight by the Sea side.  
But Carimantes being very generous, and knowing that if Menedorus should kill him, he could not be in any safety, he caused a Boat to be near the place where they were to fight, to the end that if it should so happen, he might save himself by it. Without any long circumstances of what passed between Carimantes and Menedorus before the fight, I will only tell you Madam, that the last of these stealing from those who kept him, did come unto the place where Carimantes waited for him; That they fought, that Carimantes was slightly wounded in his left arm, and that Menedorus was disarmed. So as this unfortunate Lover taking the Boat which was prepared for him, in case he were Conqueror, did use it to carry him from Marseilles after he was conquered.  
But the Sea growing turbulent whilst they fought: and as he would needs embark in such despair as would not suffer him to consult with the winds, nor hearken unto the counsel of the Pilot, who would have dissuaded him from departing: The waves were so rough, and the winds so furious, that they dashed this Bark against the point of a Rock on the left hand of Marseilles, and broke it all to pieces, so as the unfortunate Menedorus was drowned almost in the very Port, into which the waves brought his body, and as if the Gods had a desire to force Onesicrite to water it with her tears, they permitted the Corp; of this unfortunate Lover to be cast by the Sea, just under the window of that Princess, who saw it with her own eyes, and resented his death with inconceivable sorrow.  
In the mean time, Onesicrite having as I told you before, a sweet and easy soul, she could not resist Aristonice, who knew so well how to persuade her, that it did not consist with her glory to alter that resolution which she bade taken, that she resolved to smother part of her melancholy, and to be ruled by those who had most right to advise her, provided they would not force her to marry Carimantes over-hastily.  
On the other side, Carimantes making a thousand excuses unto Sfurius, for being the cause of his son's death, Sfurius answered him according to his wont generosity: After which they returned to the King, in thoughts that the marriage of the Phocean Prince with Cleonisbe should with all speed be celebrated. But Madam, at our return we understood that the state of things were not so disposed: For be pleased to know that Galathes whom Menedorus had made acquainted with many Grecians, had suborned some to them to tell the Segoregians, that the Prince of Phoceus was not the same he gave himself out to be: so as this falsehood passing from mouth to mouth, it made so great a noise amongst the People, that nothing else was talked of: For Galathes having suborned the Segoregians as well as Phocensians, there went an hundred several tales concerning the quality of the Phocean Prince. And since the Law which permitted Cleonisbe to choose her Husband, was conditional, that she should choose a man whose Quality was suitable to her own: The case was such, that if the Prince of Phoceus was not the same he said himself to be, than the choice of the Princess was null: And to make it, Galathes had caused this lie to be divulged amongst the People: And Madam, he had done it with so much art, that those whom he employed in the business, were never suspected to have any hand in the imposture. And to the end none should think him to be the Author, he would not be the first that should forbid the banes between Cleonisbe and that Prince; not doubting but Bomilcar and Britomartes would take hold of that occasion which he had given to defer it, he hoping all the while to find an opportunity of carrying away Cleonisbe, as afterwards we came to understand.  
And indeed Madam, Britomartes and Bomilcar hearing of these great reports, did say, that for their parts they did believe the Prince of Phoceus to be the same he said he was; but since it was made a doubt by a great People, they could not suffer that the Princess should marry him. The testimonies which all the friends of the Phocean Prince did give, were all in vain, and likewise what all the men in Marseilles did say: For the people of that Country being of a mutinous inclination, and since many were suborned to raise sedition, they took up Arms, and sided with Britomartes, Bomilcar, and Galathes.  
Neither the King, nor Carimantes, who were fully persuaded of the Prince of Phoceus his quality, were not able to act according unto their inclinations: and the less able, because at the same time the friends of Menedorus had caused a commotion in Marseilles, upbraiding Sfurius with his cruelty to his son; accusing also the Prince of Phoceus for consenting unto the marriage of Carimantes with Onesicrite. Mean while Glacidia endeavoured to persuade Bomilcar that it was in vain for him to hinder the Marriage of Cleonisbe, since he might assure himself she would never love him. But he answered her, that since he could receive no other consolation, but in the ruin of his Rival, she must pardon him if he did it; maintaining that he might very well do it, without giving him any cause of complaint, since he did no more than what Britomartes and Galathes did also.  
In the mean time, as great a care was taken in observing these Rivals as well as the Prince of Phoceus, Bomilcar and he fought the second time, and were both wounded; but with this difference, that when they parted them, the Prince of Phoceus who was closed with his Enemy, was the uppermost. But Madam, this Combat more and more incensing the people, things grew to a great height. For Galathes being exceeding subtle and witty, had insinuated into the minds of many Segoregians, that our Town was much to be feared: and that if we made the Country better, it would be only for ourselves: and that after they had received us as their friends, we would become their Tyrants, and they our slaves. But disorder and confusion being in every place, it was advised to appease the People to talk of a Negotiation, knowing it to be much better than to stop their first fury. So they asked this incensed people, and the three Rivals who were their heads, what proofs they required to testify the condition of the Phocean Prince.  
But they found themselves much gravelled for an answer; for since there remained none in Phoceus, it was in vain to send thither: But after they had well thought upon it, they agreed that the Conqueror of Phoceus should decide the business; and that if the illustrious Cyrus would say unto those they would send unto him, that Peranius was of the Family of the Phocean Princes, and that it was he who commanded the Fleet in departing from that Town, which his Armies had conquered, than they would yield up their Pretensions, and agree that Cleonisbes' choice was lawful. Though this Proposition might seem strange unto the Prince of Phoceus, since his destiny must depend upon the testimony of a Prince, unto whom he had not the honour to be known, and who might hold him for his Enemy, yet he did not refuse it: For since he knew that the Prince Thrasibalus did know, and that his action had been extraordinary, and might be judged worthy to be related unto his invincible Conqueror, he believed that the illustrious Cyrus would be so generous as to give a sincere testimony in his favour: And so Madam, it was agreed, that I should come unto Cyrus; That the King should send me with a person of Quality, and that the three Rivals should also send a person of Credance, to hear what the Conqueror of Asia would say unto my demands.  
But before we came away, they made all their parties interested to swear solemnly to agree unto what we should report: That they should not trouble the public Peace; and that during our voyage, they should attempt nothing against one another. After all this, they prepared us a ship; and the King, the three Rivals, and the Prince of Phoceus having made choice of those they would send unto the illustrious Cyrus, we made ourselves ready for departure: And yet we did not depart, until we understood that the slave who demanded poison for Amathilde, and who had been taken in the Wars by the Father of the fair Lady, was known to be a man of great Quality amongst the Tectosages: And moreover, that he had declared unto Amathilde, he had been in love with her ever since he knew her: and that though she had lost her beauty, yet she had not lost his love; adding, that if she would receive him favourably, she was yet amiable enough to make him happy. So as Madam, since Amathilde had not a desire to die after the loss of her beauty, but only because she thought it impossible any could love her in the state she was, she changed her mind when she saw she was deceived: Also she resolved to live, and love him who loved her, when she thought she was not able to love herself.  
After this Madam, we departed; and with orders from the Prince of Phoceus to bring the Prince his Father unto Marseilles if we could: so Madam, since the illustrious Cyrus hath himself done as much as I could desire, I found myself in a condition able to confound all the Rivals of the Phocean Prince, and to make him happy: also to contribute unto the happiness of Carimantes; for the mutinous people would not per mit him to marry Onesicrite, unless she were suitable to his Quality. So Madam, if the Prince Menesteus at your persuasions will please to go whether I shall conduct him by orders from the Phocean Prince, I have no more to wish.  
Thrymetes having ended his Narration, he left Cyrus and Mandana exceedingly satisfied; and they promised him to forget nothing which might conduce unto the felicity of the Phocean Prince: and indeed the next day he spoke unto the two Segoregians who came with Thrymetes in a manner most advantageous for that Prince, and answered them with exceeding civility. Also he gave an authentic Declaration of his Quality, and mixed it with so many Commendations of his valour and virtue, that a more advantageous Elegy could not be made of him.  
But as he was ready to send Chrysantes unto Menesteus to move him to quit the Toomb wherein he dwelled, this sad and solitary Prince came to thank him and Mandana for the honour they had done him, and to give thanks unto Cyrus for the justice he had done unto the Prince his son. But use what arguments and persuasions they could to remove him unto Marseilles, he would not hearken unto them, but they were constrained to let him return unto his mournful Tomb again: so Thrymetes and the two Segoregians which were with him, resolved to return as soon as Cyrus was departed.  
In the mean time, the Princess Mandana, after she had given thanks unto Eucrates, she continued on her journey with the greatest disposition in the world to divert herself, and so she did most pleasantly for many days. It seemed as if every day did produce fresh joys: and when she considered that she was going further from the King of Assyria, and drew nearer the King her Father, who would entertain Cyrus as her deliverer, she thought she could not give her heart enough unto the enjoyment of pleasures, after she had suffered so many miseries.  
Also she came unto the frontiers of Cappadocia towards Cicilie, without the least disaster in her voyage, and she had the satisfaction to see Cyrus do an act worthy of his great soul. There came in the evening a Post from Babylon, which brought news that there had been a great commotion in that Town, and that in the Tumult the people had plundered the Vessels of the Temple of jerusalem, which were brought thither when the Assyrians took it: And that if the Hebrew people who were Captives in Babylon this seventy years, had not opposed them, they had been Masters of it. This Post told Cyrus afterwards, that the Governor of Babylon being afraid lest the like should happen again, and that he was not able to keep the Town, he resolved to send unto him all those precious Vessels which had been possessed by Solomon: And that the captive people not being able to endure that they should profane those things which had been consecrated unto sacred uses in their sacrifices, did follow those who drove the Camels which carried all these riches. This Post adding, that falling sick by the way, he could come no sooner; and that he believed those of whom he spoke would be here in the morning.  
And indeed the Sun no sooner began to appear, but Cyrus, who was always up very early to give out all necessary orders, especially for the ma●ch of his Troops, did understand those whom he expected were come: Thus there might be seen that great captive people who had been conquered by the King of Assyrias Grandfather, do now make their addresses unto him who is the conqueror of that Prince unto whom they were slaves. But in coming unto Cyrus, two of the Camels rushing one against another, did overturn their Loads, and made it appear how precious their loads were, insomuch as Cyrus commanded them to show all the rest: For since he did not find Mandana in Babylon when he took it, he never thought of looking upon all this rich booty▪ So the Officers obeying his commands, they let him see the most magnificent object in the world: For he saw threescore great vessels of gold of an inestimable price: A thousand vessels of silver of a wonderful bigness: abundance of costly Instruments used in their Sacrifices, whose garnishing were both rich and rare: Four hundred other vessels of silver of a lesser size, and a thousand other vessels of the same mettle of a less size than they. So that seeing altogether five thousand vessels of precious mettle and excellent form, this sight was the goodliest object in the world.. Yet Cyrus was not a whit dazzled with the lustre of all these riches, but looked upon them as he ought. Then the chief amongst this Hebrew people, who followed those who carried these Ornaments of the most famous Temple in the world, presenting himself unto Cyrus, he harkened unto him with a very willing ear; so as this generous Captive seeing that Cyrus lent him a favourable ear, he began to speak unto him with much boldness and zeal. He aggravated unto him the grandeur of the god of his Fathers, the wisdom of one of their Kings, and the virtue of others. He described unto him the magnificence of the Temple in jerusalem before it was destroyed: He represented unto him the enormous sacrilege of those who pulled it down: he described the miseries of their captivity: He asked of him, as of the most generous Prince in the world, liberty for his Nation, and leave to rebuild their Temple. Also that these Vessels which were consecrated unto the only god of the whole Universe might not be profaned by other uses. This Prince of the Hebrews did speak with so much zeal, that Cyrus' being most sensibly moved by his language, did grant him his Demands, and much more; for he assigned a very considerable sum of money to rebuild the Temple of jerusalem: So as this Prince of the Hebrews divulging amongst the multitude the greatness of the favour granted to them, upon a sudden they gave such shouts of joy as waked Mandana from her sleep.  
But Cyrus, to rejoice fully in his great act of Charity, desired this Princess she would be pleased to stay a day longer in that place, to see this multitude of captive People whom he had delivered, pass by; and accordingly, Mandana being in a Belconie, and Cyrus with her, accompanied with all the Princesses, they saw pass above forty thousand persons of all sorts, who from rank to rank did by their gestures render millions of thanks unto Cyrus for the liberty which he had given them: so that joining this vast number of People, their Horses, their Camels, and all their other Beasts which carried their baggage, and the Children of the People delivered, they took up a vast extent of ground; so that it must of necessity be concluded, that a Prince who was so great as was able to give away so much riches, and grant liberty unto so many captives, must needs be the greatest Prince in the world: and so much the rather, because the good which he did, he always did it with joy and alacrity: And truly he was so sensibly pleased, that he had an occasion of breaking so many chains at one blow, and comforting so many sad souls, that finding a subject out of which to frame a Compliment unto Mandana, he asked her pardon for the satisfaction which this adventure did afford him: For Madam, said he unto her, as you have been the cause of all my sorrows, so you only are the cause of my joys: and as it is a failing in my duty, soalso an offence unto my love, to be capable of any other Joys then that of seeing you, and seeing you at liberty.   
The end of the second Book.   

ARTAMENES, OR The Grand CYRUS. THE EIGHTH PART. Book. III.  
THe Heroic joy which the Illustrious Cyrus had, in restoring liberty unto so many captives; was not the only one which he had: For a messenger, being come from the Prince Sesostris, and the Princess Timareta; he was exceedingly joyed to hear by him, that Amasis had very well received them, and consented unto their marriage, which was celebrated with magnificence worthy of the Egyptian king, in the stately City of Memphis. The only cause of the Egyptians coming was to thank Cyrus for the felicity which Sesostris and Timareta enjoyed: And in the name of Amasis, to offer him all the forces in his Kingdom, if he pleased to command them out. But since Cyrus did not think he should need to give any more Battles, he did not accept of the offer: But assured the messenger that he did much participate in the joys and happiness of the Princess Timareta, and the Prince Sesostris. And to testify that the news he brought him of their marriage was most welcome unto him; he rewarded him with a most rich Present at parting. 'tis true, Cyrus was not the only one, who was joyed at the happiness of Sesostris: for all those that knew him in the Army, shared with him, especially the Egyptians which he had left. But as the news of this Prince's happiness was very welcome unto all them that ever saw him, or which ever heard speak of him; so the reports which were published of the augmentation of the Assyrians kings sickness, did not produce the like effects in the minds of those who knew him: but many varied in their resentments of it: For many men deploring the misfortune of so great a Prince, did pity him: others were joyed: and Anaxaris was sorry though he hated him. But the predominate passion of his heart swaying him more than all other considerations, he could not choose but fear the death of a hated Rival, because he might have disturbed the felicity of a Rival loved. However, the noise of the King of Assyria's sickness was so great, that none doubted the truth of it: and the less, because Cyrus (unto whom those he had left with the Prince had given him an account) himself said that he was very ill, and gave cause to think, that the first news we heard would be of his death: yet he spoke it with so much reservedness, that every one wondered at his moderation, in not rejoicing at the loss of such an enemy as he. As for Mandana, her soul was so high and generous, as she was not capable of any joy at the death of a Prince who was not able to hurt her: and indeed, her disposition was more unto pity then any joy. Yet it was such a compassion as di● did not disturb the diversions of the voyage, which had all the pleasures and delights of a tranquil Court. For as the day's journeys were ordered, none were more weary at night, then if they had been only out to take the air. Also the great abundance of rarely accomplished men, which the familiarity of the journey had united, did make such a delectable miscellany of men, of all sorts of conditions, humours, and Nations, that one must needs be very stupid, or melancholy, if they were weary in a place where there were so many pleasing persons, who for most part, had no other design but to divert: yet those whom love had damped must be always excepted. For truly, the Prince Intaphernes, had the Princess of Bythinia always in his mind: Artana was angry to be so long from the Princess Palmis: Mazares had much ado to accustom himself to be only the friend of Mandana, and not her lover. Myrsiles was not a little troubled that he could make no progress in the mind of Doralisa: And Andramites despaired to see there was no likelihood of ever bending her heart. As for Aglatidas, he was too much in love with Amestris, not to be impatient of seeing her, and he fretted at the longness of the voyage, though he drew nearer unto her every day. Thus every lover in the Army had their discontents. But as they were all careful to hide their frettings, so they did contribute much to the pleasure of conversation, especially at nights, when all the company assembled in Mandana's chamber. Anaxaris also, as unquiet as he was, he was still striving to master his mind, lest he should show his unquietudes: for his design being to please Mandana, he thought it not fit that the melancholy of his soul should appear in his face, so as he concealed it so handsomely, and arrived so perfectly unto that end he aimed at, that there were few men in the world whom Mandana esteemed more than Anaxaris: Also she gave him a thousand obliging testimonies of it; either in speaking a thousand good things of him unto Cyrus; or in assuring him she would oblige the king her father, to acknowledge the services he had done her, or in her way of carriage towards him. For indeed she commanded him with such mild, sweet, and civil authority, that her Commands were more obliging then the prayers of many others. But as Anaxaris had a great care of insinuating himself into the love of Mandana, so he had a great care to make himself both loved and feared of all those under his command. And the truth is, he was both so loved and feared, as there were very few things which he was not able to make them do. In the mean time, this Illustrious Troop, still advancing, Cyrus and Mandana came one evening unto a little Town situated upon the banks of that great and famous River Halys: which hath its original and source amongst the A● menian mountains: and after it hath twined itself through many several Countrey● It divides Cappadocia from Paphlagonia, in this place, not being distant from the Euxine sea above three hundred furlongs. Since the journey had been something long, and since Mandana found some delight to think she was in Cappadocla, where all the people received her with unexpressible joys, and continual acclamations, she intended to rest there a day; whereof Martesia was very glad, because she remembered herself of an Aunt which commonly dwelled at Themiscyra, who had a very noble hou〈…〉 within forty furlongs of it: Remembering moreover, that she was ever used to dw 〈…〉 there about that season: so sending presently to inquire, to the end she might find her at home, she asked Mandana leave to make a visit in the morning, since she did not travel; so as in this hope she passed away the evening in a very merry disposition▪ Since Feraulus was the man who took upon him to inquire whether her Aunt was 〈…〉 home, he made such haste, that as soon as Martesia waked in the morning, she knew that her Aunt was where she thought her; and had much good company with her▪ Martesia no sooner knew this welcome news, but rising in all hast she went u 〈…〉 Mandana, and beseeched her to let her go this visit. The Princess at first, could not remember who this Cousin of Martesia's was; But calling to mind presently after, t 〈…〉 she was sister unto her whom Artucas married, who delivered up a Port of Sinope 〈◊〉 to Cyrus, when he came thither to release her, but did release only the King 〈◊〉 Assyria; Then she told Martesia very obligingly, that not to deprive her of th' 〈…〉 pleasure, nor to deprive herself of that satisfaction which she hoped to receive 〈◊〉 seeing her, since she was so near, she would send her upon a compliment unto 〈◊〉 Aunt, and send her own Coach for her, that she might oblige her to come and see her. Martesia not daring to refuse such an obliging Proposition, thanked Mandana for the favour, and would be careful to send and acquaint her kinswoman, who was called Amaldea: but the Princess would needs send one of her own servants; and so she did. Then Martesia went out to write a letter unto Amaldea, by him that was to go for her, which done, she returned again unto Mandana's chamber, where Doralisa, and Pherenice were. Martesia (said the Princess unto her, as soon as she entered) I know not whether my memory fail me, but I think that when we were at Themiscyra, your Aunt who is one of the most accomplished persons in the world had a friend with her, who in my mind was one of the most insupportable women that ere I saw, though she was one of the most virtuous, in point of gallantry. 'Tis very true Madam, replied she, and I never in all my life knew any unto whom I had a greater aversion then unto her you mention. But how was it possible, said Doralisa, that such a one should be the friend of Amaldea? for in my mind, it is very extraordinary that any person of merit, should have a friend who is not of the same mould. It cannot be said, (replied Mandana) but that she of whom I speak hath many good qualities: since she had been very fair●, and was so still when I went from Themiscyra: Moreover, she is very virtuous, and hath wit and spirit enough, but withal, if Martesia would describe her unto us, I am confident, you would agree that she is not very amiable. Ah Madam, said Martesia, you speak too favourably of a person who deserves not the attribute of virtuous, since her virtues do so ill become her: And truly (said she, turning towards Doralisa) since the Princess is pleased I should describe this friend of Amaldeas, whose name is Isalonide: be pleased to imagine her as she hath described her, that is, fair and virtuous, and also full of wit and spirit: but a spirit so full of foolish pride, that I know not how I should describe it unto you. Indeed, because she knows she hath the virtue of modesty, she thinks she needs not the virtue of humility: and because she cannot be upbraided with any lightness, or gallantry, therefore she thinks she hath a peculiar privilege, to be peevish, fantastical, choleric, and imperious: and indeed, she thinks that because she hath one virtue, she may be permitted to have all the vices: And for my part, were I her husband, I had rather she were a little too gallant, and had a little of all those virtues she wants, then to have but one virtue, and have a little of all the ill habitudes that one can have. For my particular, replied Doralisa, I think nothing can be more unreasonable, then for a woman to value what she ought to be, at as high a rate, as if she were so: Isalonide doth so value herself, replied Martesia, and as there are some insolent fools, who think that valour is enough to make up a complete man; so Isalonide thinks, that because she is not a light housewife, she is the most virtuous woman of the age. In the mean time, the result of this fine opinion is, that she makes her husband even mad with her fantastical humours: she disorders the whole family by her severity and pride: she sharply checks all her kindred that are young: she censures all the women in the Town where she lives: she scorns all that come near her; she gives a hundred unjust judgements; she puts no difference between a little too much Gallantry, and a great crime: and she condemns all that she sees, and sees not, thinking that she herself only can brag of being virtuous. And indeed she is of such a presumptuous spirit, that she is most intolerable. The truth is, replied Mandana, that this vanity hath a very ill foundation, since if it be at all excusable, it must be when one hath some good quality which one is not obliged to have: and it is not enough to be proud, because one hath some one virtue without which one should be infamous. For example; If a woman who hath beauty, wit, and virtue, do take so much pains as to cultivate those excellencies which nature gave her: And do get some extraordinary knowledge in the Arts and Sciences, which she knows how to use with all the discretion fitting for her Sex, doubtless she hath good reason to pretend unto more commendations than another: Moreover I must agree, that those virtues which Isalonide hath not, may in some sort be a just cause of boasting unto those who enjoy them: But to draw a vanity out of virtue, is a thing so shameful unto all the sex in general, that I am ashamed to think of it: For truly it may be thought, that this kind of virtue out of which Isalonide draws a vanity, is essential unto all women. So in my opinion, the pride of Isalonide is very ill grounded; and I am persuaded that a man who looks for commendations, because he never poisoned, or assassinated any one, hath as good a reason for it as she hath, who makes her glory to consist only in that she is not too much addicted unto Gallantry. Doubtless she does not know, replied Doralisa, that not to be vicious, is not enough to make one virtuous; and that there is a great interval between Avarice and Liberality: The same may be said of all the virtues and all the vices, replied Mandana, betwixt which this interval may be found, in which if any one rest, they neither merit blame nor commendations. For my part, replied Doralisa, and smiled, I am willing to think that Isalonide does not merit the Attribute of that virtue whereof she boasts: for if she be so peevish, so angry, so scornful, and so proud as you describe her, I cannot believe she hath many Adorers. For my part, replied Martesia, I think you are in the right; at least I know that none are more insufferable to me then such women, as have souls so base as to content themselves with one virtue, and yet are so proud as to scorn all those virtues which they want: And the worse is her example of this insolent and savage virtue, does not good at all unto any young persons; but on the contrary, all the apprehensions of such secure and arrogant women, does incense their spirits, and makes them so afraid of their resemblance, as that oftentimes they will not resemble those who are good. However it be, replied Mandana, we shall know by Amaldea whether Isalonide be still of the same humour: and whether a young sister she hath, be of the same. If she be, replied Martesia, I must confess, I could not know it by her Physiognomy: for I assure you Madam, this young sister, whose name is Clorelisa, had such a look with her eyes, as moved me to think she had a very gallant inclination; though it be true, that Isalonide has such an observant eye over her, as she cannot follow her own inclination. If this Person, replied Doralisa, be as pleasing as her name is, she is more amiable than her sister: Since I never had any experience of her, replied Martesia, I only know she has a promising and gallant Air with her, that she is fair, and that she hath much spirit: yet I cannot say she is amiable. But in exchange (added Mandana) you may assure her that she has a brother named Belemis, who is as well persuaded of his own valour, as his sister is of her virtue: or at least they accuse him (me thinks) for making too much of his bravery. The truth Madam is, replied Martesia, that Belemis who is a man qualified well enough, hath a little too much affected to appear what he is, and that they have rightly accused him for making all the crabbed faces of a soldier: For indeed, his walk is too warlike, his action is too haughty; and when he comes into any company, he has the Air of a man that was ready to give battle, rather than for a conversation of Gallantry: his clothes also, has always something unlike peace: and his tone is so shrill, as one would think his entreaties were commands, military commands: all he does, and all he says, would persuade one that he affects to be reputed brave: yet certainly all this is his natural way. If so, replied Doralisa, than he hath great cause to chide Nature: for I assure you, such men in times of peace are no less ridiculous, than such women as are of Isalonide's humour. After Doralisa had said so, Mandana, being dressed, she prepared to go unto the Temple with Cyrus, and all those of this Court Errand, if I may phrase it so. But since the sacrifice continued very long, when Mandana returned to her lodging she found Martesia's Aunt, already come, and found with her the most pleasing company in the world: For indeed, she had with her ten or twelve handsome women, and as many men of exceeding good quality: so that Mandana being pleasingly surprised at this good company, she received them with all possible Civility, and the better because they were all known unto her, for they were all of Themiscyra. Cyrus▪ for his particular was exceedingly satisfied, that all this good company should come so fitly to make the day more delightsome unto Mandana. And all those who were with him were very glad to see so many Ladies in a place so unlikely to meet with any so amiable. As for Martesia, she was so glad to see so many of her acquaintance, that her joys sparkled in her eyes: But she was extremely overjoyed to see with her Aunt the daughter of Artucas, whose name was Erenice, with whom she had a particular friendship at Sinope, when she lodged with her Uncle, whiles Artamenes was prisoner. She was no sooner at liberty to talk with her, whilst Amaldea was talking with Mandana, but she remembered that she was present when those four Lovers which pretended each of them to be the most unfortunate Lover in the world, were judged by her in the presence of Cyrus: Alas my dear Erenice, said she unto her, what strange accidents have happened since that day I was so busy in examining whether Indifferency, Death, absence, or Jealousy was the most Rigorous: and how much time would it take up, if I should examine which hath more perplexed me, absence from you, or my fears you should forget me. But whilst Martesia was talking thus, and whilst Erenice was answering with as much ingenuity and tenderness, Mandana did with admiration look upon a person whom she saw amongst the Ladies: for though they were all very handsome, yet there was no comparison betwixt her and the rest. And indeed, this Lady, whose name was Telamire, had such rare and extraordinary charms in her beauty, that they will hardly admit of a description. For since she was neither great, nor little; pale, nor red; black, nor fair; but held a just and even proportion betwixt all these, as one would say, Nature did distinguish her from all others, to the end there might not be confusion in the several Orders of Beauties, which sometimes breeds contests between the black, and between the fair Beauties. Moreover, Telamire was not only Fair, but of an admirable behaviour; and had an Air which was not at all proud, yet majestical. Again, since Telamire was neither black nor fair, her Aspect was neither melancholy nor merry, but had such a just mixture of both as made her discreetly pleasant. But as Telamire did charm the eyes of all the company: so likewise there was a man with her that did attract their eyes as much as she: since certainly his behaviour was as good as she was fair: His Physiognomy spoke him to be a man of much spirit. And he hear kned unto what was spoke, with such an Air, as it was easy to perceive that he understood things aright. But that which rendered him most considerable unto Mandana, was his being son unto Amaldea, and Martesia's Cousin: for since he was not at Themiscyra when she was there, she knew him not. She remembered very well that Amaldea had a son whose name was Artaxander, but she knew not it was him she saw. And she did no sooner know it, but she made him a most obliging Compliment, and he answered her in a most Elegant stile. So that discourses beginning by degrees, between so much excellent company, time passed away so pleasingly, that Mandana thought it not a minuit since she returned from the Temple, when she was advertised that it was dinner time. So that Cyrus carried all the men with him, and Mandana retained all the Ladies to dine with her: but she declared unto them, that it was not for a dinner she retained them, but they should not return home that night. But to answer the Civility of the Princess, Amaldea told her, she would do more than that, because she was resolved to wait upon her two day's journey farther. Thus all this good company being together, the time passed away with much delight: one chance fell out which caused that Mandana could not depart so soon as she intended, because in the night time, that great River on which this little Town did stand did so overflow, that the Country all about was water: and for twelve hours together it reigned so fast, that it was one cause of the Rivers rising, though the main reason of it was, the falling of waters from the Armenian Mountains, which running into this River, did cause it to swell above its ordinary Banks, and overflow the Plains. However, Mandana must cross it before she could continue her journey, and therefore of necessity she must stay until the waters were assuaged: and also this good Company must needs stay with her, because Amaldeas' house was on the other side of the River. And though there was a bridge, and this bridge not broken, yet there was no getting within twelve furlongs of it, so as all this good Company staying together, there design was only to pass the time without weariness unto Mandana, who for her part did contribute all her endeavours to divert the Company. But Martesia (said she one morning unto her) how came all these Ladies to assemble together at your Aunts? I assure you Madam, (replied she) I do not know: but since they came hither, I have done nothing else but talk of you, and satisfy their curiosities concerning your adventures: And though fame had partly told them, yet it told them false, and I was glad to let them know the truth. But now I have told them all they desire to know, I must move them in their turns, to tell me all I desire to know: for all I know yet is, that there is a notable adventure between this Beauty you see here, whose name is Telamire, and Artaxander: and that it seems love makes happy and unhappy every where. Telamire, replied Mandana, is very likely to produce those two different effects, for I never in my life saw any that pleased me more: And therefore Martesia inform yourself a little better of her fortune, and let me know it. I shall be very glad to obey you Madam, replied she, since I have such an inclination myself: and indeed that Evening Erenice being with Martesia, without any company but Doralisa, she obeyed Mandana's commands. Dear Cousin, (said she unto her) since I have related the Adventures of our Princess, and of the Illustrious Cyrus, I hope you will not be silent in your own, and those of your acquaintance. When I have told you, replied she, that after your departure from Sinope, my father sent me unto Themiscyra, to Amaldea: and that I was often sorry never to hear from you, doubtless I have told you the most important passages of my life. Tell me at least, replied Martesia, how it comes to pass that so many amiable Persons, who heretofore had no society together, should now make a journey together. To satisfy your knowledge in this (replied she) it is requisite I relate the whole lives of Artaxander and Telamire. Though Artaxander be my Cousin as he is yours (replied Martesia) yet fortune hath so often parted us that we hardly know each other: But since he seems to be a very well accomplished man, I should be very glad to know him from you. Therefore my dear Erenice, I beseech you acquaint me with his life, and let Doralisa have her share in the diversion. The adventures of persons unto whom others have no relation, replied Erenice, are so far from diverting them, that I conceive it best to stay until you and I be alone; for though what I shall tell you have something that is extraordinary in it, yet as I said before, those who have no interest in the fortune of them whose History is related cannot take any delight in hearing it. I am so much interested in the happiness of Artaxander and Telamire, replied Doralisa, that I should be extremely glad to hear their Adventures. For the truth is, it is impossible to see them, and not desire their happiness. And to testify unto you, that they are not indifferent to me, I assure you, that I wish with all my heart, if Artaxander have any Rivals, that they may be ill treated; and if Telamire love any, that it may be Artaxander. But perhaps you have some secrets to impart unto Martesia, which you would not have me to know, and therefore it is better to leave you at liberty. Oh Doralisa, (said Erenice, and would not let her go) I beseech you do not offer to go away: for I am persuaded, if I should deprive Martesia of your sight, mine would not give her any satisfaction. Moreover, as sweet as she seems to be, I assure you she is one of the most revenging persons in the world: and to prove it, I remember, that having one day the misfortune to take her out of very good Company, she was never at rest until she was revenged, by putting me upon the company of one of the most wearisome persons that ever was; and therefore I beseech you do not go away. Then satisfy me, replied Martesia, since I am so revengeful, for I declare unto you, that if you will not relate unto me the whole life of Artaxander and Telamire, I shall relate unto Doralisa all I know of yours. And you know I am not ignorant, that you have made more miserable than one, since we were acquainted. Since that relation (replied Erenice and blushed) would have less diversion in it, then that which I should relate, though you speak much less than I, yet I had rather obey then resist you. Then do obey, replied Martesia, but that the word obey may be rightly placed, obey Dorolisa, and address your speech unto her: For she being a stranger at Themiscyra, you must explain many things unto her, which you would not unto me. After this, Dorolisa answered something, and Erenice replied: But at last, Martesia having imposed silence upon them both, and given order that nothing should disturb them, Erenice began her Relation in these Terms.  

THE HISTORY OF ARTAXANDER AND TELAMIRE.  
SInce those whose lives I am to relate are scarcely known unto you, 'Tis requisite I begin my Relation with their Elegy, that so engaging you unto their interests, by some resentments of esteem, you may with more attention hearken unto what I say. But since the merits of these two Persons are high enough to have got that esteem already, I have reason to fear that I cannot commend them enough. However, I must tell you, that Telamire is one of the most charming Persons in the Universe unto such as particularly know her: and though she be most amiable unto all in general, yet she is infinitely more unto such as have any intimacy with her. And it may be said, that she is as much above herself, when she is with her intimate friends, as she is above many others, when she is in a general conversation: Also she is so universally known, that when any one sees a dull person in Themiscyra, they use to say, send him to Telamire, for she hath as much as the other hath little. Moreover Telamire is exceedingly sweet and generous; and her beauty is certainly the least good quality she hath. As for Artaxander, It is enough I tell you, that Martesia can boldly acknowledge in her Cousin's behalf, that he hath all those excellent qualities which are requisite to make up a most perfectly accomplished man. After this, I must tell you, that Telamire is a Lady of Quality; whose father was called Algastus: and her mother was a most virtuous woman, who tenderly loved Amaldea the mother of Artaxander, under the governance of whom he hath ever been, because his father died when he was but in his Cradle. And the better to let you understand what I must tell you in the sequel of my discourse; Be pleased to know, that Algastus never had more than one daughter, which was Telamire: and that from her very infancy, her mother, whose name was Cleossonte, did always tell Amaldea, that she would marry her daughter unto the young Artaxander her son, who was then about five or six years elder than Telamire, who at that time was not above twelve. But though this design was known unto very few, and though Algastus himself knew it not, yet it was not so secretly carried, but the young Telamire knew something of the business, by the women which waited upon her: so as from that time, she disposed her heart to be obedient unto Cleossonte. And I cannot tell, whether one should not attribute some part of Telamires merits unto the innocent design which she had in her infancy, to be ere long in a condition of meriting Artaxanders' esteem. The truth is, I cannot think one could be more amiable being an insant, than Telamire was: for her person was not only exceeding handsome, but she had one of the best Complexions in the world, and struck all her masters into admiration: either he who taught her to dance, or him who taught her the Assyrian Language, which she spoke excellently well. And most certainly none could dance better than she did at that time, nor speak a strange Language more politely. Moreover her stature was already so well proportioned, and her Physiognomy so composed, that all men of any ingenuity, who came unto Cleossonte, did not treat her as a child any longer, though yet she was one, but on the contrary, extolled her as a complete woman, and talked to her as if she were eighteen years of age: Also she answered them so ingeniously, and with such sparks of wit and spirit in her countenance, as one would think, that if she was not very forward to talk, it was only because she knew, that she was but twelve years of age; and that decency would not allow her yet to show all her wit, though she showed enough to make them admire her: So as having all the graces of Infancy, without any of the Toys, I assure you, she was then infinitely amiable and charming. I tell you this, (amiable Doralisa) to let you know the first ground of Telamires and Artaxanders' affection: 'Tis true, it could not well be called affection at that time: For since Amaldea sent Artaxander to travel as soon as he was seventeen years of age, and since his travel was long, he scarcely remembered that ever he heard his mother say, she desired he should marry Telamire: and Telamire herself though she remembered the intention of Cleossonte, yet she thought it would never come to pass: for you must know, that this virtuous Person died when Telamire was but fourteen years of age: so as being under the governance of her father, who set a wise and virtuous woman over her, she thought upon nothing but better accomplishing herself without any thoughts of Artaxander, considering that Cleossontes design being grounded upon her friendship to Amaldea, it would now fall, since she was dead: And since Algastus her father was so far from any thoughts of marrying her, that his mind was all upon another wife: for since he was very rich, he did not despair to find one, though he was old, and though he would have one that was young, fair, and of good quality: Amaldea also for her part, she never thought more upon this marriage: for she knew that Algastus never thought of marrying his daughter; and since she saw him in a possibility of having other children by another wife, she thought the match not so advantageous as in Cleossontes days: so this business was laid aside, as if it had never been thought upon. In the interim, time passing on, and Artaxander being improved as much by his Travels, as Telamire grew fair in his absence: he returned to Themiscyra: But since he had never been in a place, where they said that heretofore did dwell the second Queen of the Amazons, called Orithea, at that time when she reigned in Cappadocia, therefore he had a great Curiosity to go and see it: and indeed it was one of the goodliest places in the world; and so Famous, that it was a kind of shame for a man of any spirit, not to have been there, and to be ignorant of what was there to be seen. In the mean time, as chance would have it, you must know, that Artaxander found in that place a company of Themiscyrian Ladies, who came thither upon the same occasion he did; to wit, only out of Curiosity: Amongst the rest, there was a Lady, whose name was Clorelisa, who was very pleasant, and so is still, though since she hath much been vexed. This Clorelisa had neither father nor mother living, and therefore dwelled with a brother, named Belermis; having no mind to dwelled with a sister which she had, who was called Isalonide, because she was one of the most imperious persons in the world.  
To spare you the labour of describing her, (said Martesia and interrupted her) I must tell you that I have acquainted Doralisa what she is, to wit, foolishly proud that she cannot be accused of too much Gallantry. Nor is it necessary that you tell us what Belermis is, since I have told her he might well represent the God of war. But as for Clorelisa you would do me a pleasure in telling me of what humour she is at this present.  
Clorelisa, replied Erenice, is opposite unto Isalonide in many things, and resembles her in only one. For the truth is, her inclination is unto Gallantry▪ But though she seem to be very Civil, and when she pleaseth is Complaisant enough, so her Complaisance may serve her own interests; yet she is as imperious in her Gallantry, as her sister is in her way. Moreover, she is as full of revenge as one can be 〈◊〉 for she will attempt any thing to satisfy that humour, being none of those who say that they ought never to be revenged upon themselves: for she is of such an humour that she had rather do herself harm, than not hurt them she hates: However, since Clorelisa is fair and witty: and since her imperious humour never appears unto those who jar not with her, it is very hard to look upon her and not love her: so that Artaxander meeting her at this Town, in which are the ruins of Orithia's Castle, he was as civil to her as any well qualified man ought to be unto a Beauty: and a Beauty who being but a child when he went from Themiscyra, had now all the graces of novelty: Also he applied himself more to talk unto her then unto all the rest of her Company. But as these kind of meetings do often cause others, so after they had viewed all that was to be seen at the Castle of this great Queen of the Amazons, they designed to go unto another place, where it was said that Hercules and Theseus arrived, when they defeated those valiant warriors: and where might be seen the place where those two sisters of that Queen, the one named Hippolyta, and the other Menalippe, were taken prisoners by those two Heroes: So that Artaxander, and Clorelisa being many days together, and using much familiarity and talk, there grew betwixt them a kind of league, which I know not what to call. For I understood since from Artaxander, that his heart was never really touched with any love, and that the affection he had unto Clorelisa was only in his mind: and truly (said he unto me, one day when I pressed him to tell me his thoughts of her) to testify that my heart is free. I love Clorelisa, because I would love her, and I love her without any distemper. But for all that (amiable Doralisa) Artaxander during this journey was as full of his Gallantry as his wit could furnish out. If he talked unto her of Hippolyta with whom Theseus fell in love, after he took her prisoner, it was to let her understand that he should have had the same distance, if Hippolyta had resembled her: And if he talked to her of Hercules, when they showed him how he overcame the Amazons; it was also to tell her, that she was more valiant than ever they, since she could get victories, and make prisoners without any Arms. To be short, though Artaxander did only esteem Clorelisa, yet he carried the matter as if he were in love with her: Insomuch as Clorelisa, who had opinion good enough of herself, believed that he thought as he said, and looked upon him as her slave. So as returning unto Themiscyra, with the glory of her Conquest, there was none who at her return did not think her much embellished; so well did her joys become her beauty. But (amiable Doralisa) before I tell you how Artaxander was esteemed at Themiscyra: I must tell you that our Town being much divided into Factions, there was a Family which was enemy unto that of Artaxander, whose eldest son, named Tysimenes, was of the same age with him: so as chance so ordering it, that his Parents sent him unto the same places where Artaxander was, So it happened, that both of them being young; both well born, and never had any jars one with another; meeting both in a strange Country: engaging themselves in the same business; in the same pleasures, and being far from those who bore all the hatred, they came at length to love one another; and fortune sent them many occasions wherein they had need of each other, and accordingly they were serviceable unto each other with equal Generosity. Insomuch as these two reconciled enemies did promise an inviolable affection, and went unto the wars together against Polycrates. I shall not insist, how they signalised themselves: but shall tell you, that since this war, Artaxander was called home by Amaldea, and so Tysimenes and he parted: But at parting, they agreed, that they would not publish their Reconciliation until they met at Themiscyra: for since the father of Tysimenes was violent and fantastical, he feared lest it should incense him, and lessen the exhibition for his subsistence. Thus this friendship being as mysterious as love, it was as violent and tender. In the mean time, this Reconciliation made no noise in the Court, and at the return of Artaxander, the talk was that he fell in love with Clorelisa, at the Castle of Orithia: but not a word that he was become the friend of Tysimenes during his travels. Then, to return unto the joys which Clorelisa had, to think she had subdued the heart of Artaxander, I must tell you, she talked of nothing else: 'Tis true, this joy was a little qualified by the sharp reprehensions of Isalonide, for going that voyage: for though she went with the permission of her brother, and with excellent Company, yet she must needs make a strange hurley-burley about it: upbraiding her, that there was a hundred famous Temples in Cappadocia, unto which she never had any Curiosity to see: and yet upon a business of Gallantry, she must go to a place where nothing was remarkable, unless an old story of Amazons: However, Clorelisa being accustomed unto her severity, she cheered up herself presently against her sister's anger; And since Telamire was not well and kept her chamber, she went to visit her: for there being a great amity between them, and being equal in quality and age, they used to see each other very often: Also Clorelisa, in the mind she was, had a mind to seek out new acquaintance, to the end she might have occasions of relating her voyage, and talk of Artaxander. There was also another reason which moved Clorelisa to see Telamire very oft: for you must know, that Belermis her brother was much in love with her, and pressed her every day, to knit acquaintance with her, to the end she might be able to do him a good office. After that she had quieted Isalonide, she went unto Telamire, not knowing that the mother of this Lady had a design to marry her unto Artaxander, for there had been no reports of it out of the Family. So that after the first Compliments, and Clorelisa had told Telamire, that her sickness had not altered her: and that Telamire also had told Clorelisa, that the Sun had not burned her, Clorelisa asked her the news of the Town, and Telamire asked her concerning her voyage. So that having a way so easy to humour her own inclination, she made her an exact relation of it, aggravating with extreme delight, her meeting with Artaxander. Since I have not stirred out of my Chamber of late, (said Telamire unto her) I knew not that Artaxander was returned: but I beseech you, did you find him handsome enough to render your voyage the more delightsome. I assure you, replied Clorelisa, I found him to be so excellently accomplished, as I do not think any one in Themiscyra. When one is in an humour to divert one's self, (replied Telamire) one shall be pleased at any thing, and those who are but meanly accomplished, will please sometimes better, than those who are more, can when that humour is off. No, no, Telamire, (replied Clorelisa) the esteem I have of Artaxander, is not grounded upon my pleasant humour, but upon his own merits, which are such, as to justify the judgement which I have given of him, I will bring him to you: and I will take upon me to choose his acquaintance, and his friends for him: for as you know, he parted from Themiscyra very young, he is now almost a stranger in his own Country. Certainly, replied Telamire, Artaxander hath found you to be as fair, as he finds you to be accomplished, since in so short a time, he esteems you so much as to let you choose his friends and acquaintance for him. However it be, replied she, have not you an ill opinion of Artaxander, because I confess unto you, that he hath a good one of me: For the truth is, your compleatest men are capable of an error once in their lives; and it may be that I am the same of Artaxander. Oh Clorelisa, replied Telamire, I shall rather believe the error is in Artaxander then in you, since I am well acquainted with your merits, but with his, not enough to answer for him. That you may judge justly, replied Clorelisa, I will bring him unto you to morrow: for (added she and smiled) since it is I who brings him unto you, I must not stay till you be perfectly well, lest I should expose this friend whom I esteem so much, unto a great danger, if you should see him, when you are perfectly recovered. Since he hath seen you already, replied Telamire, you have no reason to fear any in Themiscyra, since certainly there are none so taking as yourself: you are disposed to flatter me, replied Clorelisa, but all the sweet language you can give me this day, will not blot out the wrong you have done me, in telling me I do not know complete men, since you suppose I am mistaken: But to punish you, if the fancy take me, I will tell Artaxander that you cannot believe what I say of him. Oh, Clorelisa (cried out Telamire) take heed what you do, for if you should do so, I should never pardon you as long as I lived. As Clorelisa was ready to answer, there came in some Ladies, who caused the discourse to change, and moved her to go away, for they were such as did not please her fancy. In the mean time, since Artaxander had a particular intimacy with her, and with all the Ladies with whom she was in their voyage, he saw them every day, and came acquainted with Belermis: so that it was an easy matter for Clorelisa to keep her word with Telamire. But since her design was to be very careful in keeping that conquest which she thought she had made, she told Artaxander, when she carried him unto Telamire, that she was carrying him unto a Mistress of her brothers. But I believe she told him so, to the end that he looking upon her, as a Person who was already engaged unto another, he might have no thoughts of her, in case the Charms of Telamire should move his heart more than her own. But that he might not be surprised at the beauty of Telamire, she extolled her to the sky, knowing well, that it was a good way to lessen the admiration which any great Beauty may cause at the first sight. At least I do imagine that this was her aim, and my reason is, because when she spoke of Telamires beauty unto other men, she was nothing earnest in her Eulogies. However it was, they came unto this fair sick One, who doubtless deserved that Epithet; for since it was my chance to see her that day, I never saw her look better in her health. 'Tis true, her disease was not great, and she was handsomely dressed; also in such a negligent and taking manner, that it was impossible to look upon her, and not to love, at least, like her. Also Clorelisa, who since the return of Artaxander, had much more care of herself then ordinary, was also handsomely dressed that day: but for all that, the negligent and free Garb of Telamire exceeded her; and she appeared a thousand times more fair than Clorelisa, though Clorelisa was also exceeding well. Since I had a great share in Telamires friendship, she sent unto me that morning, to pass away the afternoon with her: and indeed I came so timely, that I was with her, before Clorelisa: but I was no sooner set down, than she asked me, upon what terms I was with Artaxander? for, said she, as we may sometimes have friends who are not Cousins, so also we may have Cousins who are not friends. All I can can tell you, replied she, is, that Artaxander is certainly an excellent well qualified man, enough both to be my Cousin and my friend: But since it is not long since his return; and since his return he hath been continually with Clorelisa, or with those Ladies with whom she was at the Castle of Orithea, I know not yet, whether he hold me as his friend, or will look upon me only as his Cousin. As soon as I had said so, Artaxander leading Clorelisa, entered: so that Clorelisa presenting him unto Telamire, she received him with much civility, and he saluted her with much respect. I observed, that at the first he was surprised at the sight of Telamire, and maugre the Eulogies of Clorelisa, he did not imagine her half so fair as he sound her. But since Clorelisa did doubtless observe him as well as I, she blushed for envy, and the more, for casting her eyes upon a great Glass, which was opposite to her, wherein she saw Telamire, and herself also, and maugre the good opinion which she had of her own beauty, she knew that Artaxander had good reason to think Telamire fairer than herself: at least there appeared unto me, such a kind of fretting in her countenance, as moved me to make that interpretation. Also I observed, that after she had seen herself in the Glass with Telamire, she changed places, saying, that the heat of the day had made her eyes look ill: but doubtless the reason why she changed places was, because Artaxander should not see them both at once, as he might before, and so he might not so easily discern the difference between Telamire and her. And indeed, as soon as she was removed, and stood where she desired the vexing feature in her face, me thought, did vanish: And desiring her excellent wit might repair her disadvantage of beauty, she began to break out unto a hundred witty and pleasing fancies. But though Telamire did not reply with the same earnestness that Clorelisa spoke, yet she replied so pertinently, and in such an ingenious manner, as made it apparent her wit was as excellent as her beauty. At first, the discourse was of Clorelisa's voyage, afterwards of her unexpected meeting with Artaxander, and of the friendship she had with him. For my part, said I, I am persuaded that one may another in six days enough to esteem and love them, and more than those who know after another manner can in six months: for when they know them by a third person, who prepares the mind with high Eulogies, their imaginations are so preposseed with Ideas of their own, that when they come to see, they will not find their fancies and Ideas answered. Doubtless it often happens as you say, (replied Artaxander) but not always: And for example, I only need to tell you, that though Clorelisa told me, Telamire was one of the fairest persons in the world, and though I fancied an Idea of all I could think admirable, yet I must confess unto you, that if I could let you see my fancy, you should see I had drawn but a very bad picture of her. That which we use to call a bad Picture, replied Telamire, is one, which resembles not the Person for whom it was made: a Picture which flatters, is as bad a Picture, as that which makes ugly; and so I think I may with out any vanity, say of yours: because perhaps, you found the Idea which you fancied of me, much fairer than I am. Oh Telamire, said Clorelisa, I am not of your opinion in this, for I can never agree, that a Picture which flatters, is a bad Picture, since Telamire (replied Artaxander) never had hers which did flatter, because it is impossible to be made fairer than herself. I do not wonder she should not know the difference: but I wonder said he and reprehended himself, seeing he exrolled Telamire so much, and Clorelisa so little) that you Clorelisa should know it, since certainly there can be no picture taken from you, which does not injure you very much: I pray Artaxander (said she, and both laughed and blushed) do not undertake too many things at once: Either●co 〈…〉 and Telamire, and not me; or else commend me, and not her, for this divided Elegy doth never oblige any: But not to puzzle you in making a choice, which perhaps would not be advantageous unto me, It is better, that since you have told what you think of Telamire, Telamire also tell what she thinks of you, and whether the Idea which she fancied, be better than what she finds: for to tell you truly, I spoke as well of you unto her yesterday, as I did of her unto you: But I believe she will not admire you so much as you do her, because since she hath not so good an opinion of me as you have, she did not give so much credit unto my words when I commended you, as you did when I commended her. Fie Clorelisa, (said Telamire) you are the most cruel woman in the world. Since I speak nothing (replied she) but what I m 〈…〉 ced before, me thinks you should not be surprised at it. Telamire then fearing that Artaxander should believe she had spoke some strange thing concerning him, began to relate the whole discourse which she had with Clorelisa the day before: Confessing ingenuously, that she did not believe him to be so complete a man, as Clorelisa had represented him. Yet I hope (added she) that you will be so reasonable, as not to be offended at what I thought of you, before I knew you: and that you will be satisfied with the justice I render now I do know you better. Certainly I shall not be offended Madam, replied Artaxander, at any thoughts you had of me before you knew me; but I am afraid I shall have some cause to be sorry for your thoughts of me after you know me. Oh heavens (said Clorelisa, not giving Telamire time to answer) that she could so far mistake herself; then should I be the best pleased in the world, if I could upbraid her with want of judgement in complete men. But I am afraid that I shall never have that satisfaction; and that on the contrary, you will become so much her friend, that I shall become yours less: and truly I shall not take it well, if she should be more yours than mine. Provided that Artaxander be no more my friend than he is yours, replied Telamire and smiled, what will it concern you, if I be more his then you are? What will it concern me? (replied Clorelisa) ah Telamire, it will extremely concern me; for I am sure you can never be Artaxanders' friend more than I am, unless he be more yours, than mine. But amiable Clorelisa (said Artaxander, and smiled as well as they) since you have done me the favour to accept of the Commission which I gave you, to choose my friends for me, and since you have brought me hither, I hope you had no design that I should become the enemy of Telamire. No replied she, but I had no intention you should be so much in her favour, as that I should be out, and yet I am the most mistaken in the world, if this come not to pass. Though Clorelisa spoke this in laughter, yet I assure you she feared it in earnest. But after this visit had lasted a long while, she went away: But went away, not knowing what to think upon the matter: since Artaxander was so charmed with the beauty of Telamire, that his memory stood in need of all its helps, to remember whether he had not commended her too highly in speaking unto Clorelisa. Yet since he had much a do to talk of any thing else, because his imagination was wholly taken up with her, he talked less than usual all that day▪ which Clorelisa observed well enough, as she told me afterwards, to her grief. But that which vexed her more the next day was, that she understood by me of the Ladies whom Artaxander saw with her the first time he ever met her, that he had so extolled the beauty of Telamire, as she never heard a higher commendation in all her life. So as considering that he hardly spoke unto her, she conjectured, that his thoughts were wholly upon Telamire, and not upon her. Yet since she had a good opinion of herself, and she never had any slave who broke her chains, she could not believe that Artaxander could break those fetters which she had (as she thought) laid upon him. So as not seeming to be troubled at it, she lived with him as she begun, to wit, in much friendship. But a little while after, understanding that Artaxander had been several times with Telamire and never told her, she was in a strange fume, for than she thought that he loved Telamire better than her. Yet to excuse her credulity, I must say, that Artaxander being insensible, engaged to compliment with her, as if he were in love, he knew not how to make a Retreat. So as, though his heart was full of violent passion unto Telamire, yet he talked unto Clorelisa as he used: and the rather, because he did really intend to stifie that growing affection which he had unto Telamire, and to lock up his heart both against the one and the other; Conceiting the simple Gallantry without any ingredient of love was much more pleasing and agreeable than a violent passion could be. Thus he continued to talk unto Clorelisa, as those who use to talk of love, but never mean it. 'Tis true, he continued not long at ease: In the mean time Clorelisa, whose heart was really engaged, defcanting upon the state wherein she was considered which way she might prevent Artaxander from seeing Telamire, or at least from contracting any friendship with her. At first, she thought it expedient to fall out with Telamire, and oblige Artaxander to the like, in taking her part; but considering upon a sudden, that perhaps she was not able to win him unto such a thing, she feared, that if she should see her no more, yet he would, and so she should not be able to interrupt their conversation by her presence: so as resentment of jealousy causing her to take up a contrary design, she resolved to make a show of most tender friendship unto Telamire, and to see her so oft, that Artaxander should never see her, without her: and to puzzle him the more, she obliged Belermis her brother, to discover unto Artaxander, the love he bore unto Telamire, and to desire his assistance, telling him, that he knew Telamire did infinitely esteem him, and that he was the fittest man he could choose for a Confident: And indeed Belermis used all his endeavours to get the friendship of Artaxander: and following the advice of Clorelisa, he trusted him with the very secrets of his heart, and discovered his passion unto him, conjuring him to assist him as far as he could. You may imagine, that Artaxander was put to great puzzle. For it was not likely he should tell him that he was his Rival, considering how his case stood with his sister; and it was also impossible to do for him, as he desired. However Belermis desiring this favour from him in a blunt soldierlike way, which was natural unto him, he hardly knew what to say unto him; yet Artaxander having an excellent wit, he excused himself as well as he could. Sir, said he unto him, I am much obliged unto you for the Confidence you are pleased to put in me: But Belermis, if you will give me leave to speak freely what I think, I must ingenuously confess unto you, that I am the worst Agent upon earth in any such matters; and the only reason why I will never undertake to serve my friends in any such ways of Love, is, because I am fully persuaded that I should do them more hurt then good: and that in such cases as these one ought to employ none but themselves, for truly, a friend in such cases, doth often more harm than a Rival. And indeed, can you imagine that if Telamire should know that you impart all she tells you unto me, and all that you tell her, she will not be rigorous towards you? No, no Belermis, deceive not yourself: but be assured a mistress will ever be severe, if she know that her Lover hath any Confident, for she will trust her Lover with many more secrets than she will his friend: Therefore all I can promise you is to speak of you unto Telamire, according to my own Refentments, when any occasion offers itself; for otherwise I should prejudice you more than you imagine. Since Belermis had not the least suspicion that Artaxander was his Rival: but on the contrary, thought him to be in love with Clorelisa, he only desired him at the least to give him his best advice. And since Artaxander had no pretence to refuse that, he consented unto it, and the rather, because it was some sweetness unto him, to hear all the complaints which he made of Telamire. And this sweetness he often tasted, for since there was scarce a day on which he did not receive some new Piece of cruelty from that fair One, he was continually condoling with Artazander. On the otherside, Clorelisa according to her design, was so full of complaisance unto Telamire, and was so very officiously serviceable, that Telamire did really believe she loved her very tenderly: And she had one advantage by seeing her every day: for since Telamire had the reputation of extraordinary virtue, the severe Isalonide could find no fault with her sister. And indeed, she was so very frequently with her, that she was almost no where else. You may well think, that it was cruel torment unto Artaxander, to be continually talking unto one whom he loved not, and not to be able to talk unto her whom he did love. In the mean time, he was extremely perplexed to cease the telling Clorelisa that he loved her, and to begin the telling Telamire that he adored her: Moreover, the confid 〈…〉 e of Belermis became very troublesome unto him. and he grew at last so deep in love, and so vexed, that all were intolerable to him. And indeed, his passion became so strong in a few days, that he much cared not what Clorelisa, or Belermis should think, though they did know he loved Telamire: But the great trouble of his spirits was to let the fair Telamire know what thoughts he had of her. Since Clorelisa and Belermis were continually with Telamire, it was a very hard matter for him to find her alone: and he was a long time in hops of Clorelisa's being sick, that she might keep her Chamber, and when that occasion did offer itself, he was as much troubled to find Telamire with her: for Clorelisa's eyes were no sooner open in the morning, but the jealousies of her soul, moved her to send unto Telamire, and to entreat her, she would be pleased to have some pity upon her in her sickness, and to see her as soon as she had dined, for if she did not, it would be a great addition of inquietude in her sicknesses So that Telamire thinking that Clorelisa loved her very dearly, she went betimes unto her; and forcing her inclination, which did not naturally love Clorelisa, she answered her seeming friendship by a thousand expressions of her service and care; and particularly in her diligence and assiduity in this her sickness. Thus for the first days of her sickness, it was impossible for Artaxander to find her any where but with Clorelisa: And by reason of Algastus the father of Telamire, he would not offer to make any visits, at such times as decency did not permit. But at last, hitting his time in the nick, he came one morning into Telamire's Chamber, as she was looking herself in a glass, and putting on her hood to go unto Clorelisa: And since she was already very familiar with him, she continued putting it on after she had saluted him, supposing that he would go with her to see Clorelisa, and making the proposition very civility unto him. Did I not know (said she unto him) that Clorelisa was your friend before I was yours, and that you cannot take it ill I should pay what I owe unto her merits, in lieu of putting on my hood, I would take it off, and regularly receive your visit. But since I do imagine you would have us go together to comfort this fair sick Person, I am as free with you as Clorelisa herself would be. I should think myself very unhappy, Madam (said he unto her) if you should think I would cross any of your intentions: But Madam, (said he cunningly unto her, to hinder her from going so soon) As I was coming hither, I sent to know how she did, and I understood she was not awake, and therefore if you will not disturb her, you will not go so soon. But if you please Madam, I will send one of my men to wait until she be awake, and then bring us word: for in my opinion it is better staying here then in her outer Chamber. Telamire believing this, sent one of her women, to bid one of Artaxander's servants go unto Clorelisa: But Artaxander seeming as if he had some other business with him, went hastily to Telamire's chamber-door, and commanded the man to be two hours before he returned; and if any of Telamire's servants came to know whether Clorelisa were awake, not to let him speak unto any of the house, but to tell him, that she was not. This order being given, Artaxander returned to Telamire, who caused a stool to be set for him, and she began to talk of Clorelisa, thinking no discourse could be more pleasing to him: for she could not imagine that Clorelisa should love him, unless he had loved her. In the mean time, though his design was to discover his Passion unto her, yet it was long before he durst tell her his thoughts. But since he could not so well hide his inquietudes, but Telamire observed him, she imagined that the reason was because he was troubled at Clorelisa: But Artaxander, (said she unto him) me thinks you are very melancholy, is not the reason of it because you fear Clorelisa should be sick this morning? No Madam, (said he unto her transported by his passion) but it is, because Artaxander is much worse to day, than he was yesterday: and I believe will every day be worse and worse. If Artaxander be sick (replied she and laughed) Appearances are very fallacious: so they are, replied he, and to give you an example, Does not all in Themiscyra believe that I am in love with Clorelisa? yet it is most certainly true that I am not: And if I were no more in love with an admirable Lady, whom I dare not name, than I am with her, I should be much more happy than I am. Telamire hearing Artaxander speak so, she began to suspect the truth: and to stop his mouth from any more of that discourse, she turned the talk upon some thing else. No, no, Artaxander, (said she unto him) never take so much pains to deceive me, for I am more complaisant unto my friends then you imagine me, and as soon as I perceive they have a design to make me believe a thing, I seem as if I were persuaded of it: and so I will tell you, if you please, that I do believe you love not Clorelisa, but that you love some other: yet for your own tranquillity, I should be sorry it were so, for I am confident you will have much ado to persuade that other, to believe that you do not love Clorelisa: However, I pray give me leave to send one of my servants, and know whether she be yet awake, for I believe that he whom you sent, is as fast asleep as she is: And she sent one accordingly. But the prudence of Artaxander foreseeing the impatience of Telamire, the man whom he sent to Clorelisa's, meeting the other and ask him whither he went, and being answered to see whether Clorelisa were awake, he told him that he could save him that labour, for he was newly come from thence, and one of her women said, she was not yet awake: so as Telamire's servant without any further enquiry, returned to tell Telamire, that Clorelisa was still asleep. It is very strange, (said Telamire, and looked upon Artaxander) for I have heard her say, she seldom sleeps, but dreams; and I am confident that at this very hour, she is with me, though I am not with her. If so Madam, replied Artaxander, than she is with one, who may if she please, plainly perceive whether I love Clorelisa or no: I have already told you, replied Telamire, that I am so complaisant, as to believe, or at least, seem to believe, whatsoever my friends would have me. Then Madam, believe that I do not love Clorelisa, nor ever did: and if I had boldness enough, I would Conjure you to believe also, that I am extremely in love with the fairest Lady in the world, a Lady over whom you have more power than I wish you had. As Telamire was ready to answer, a servant of Clorelisa's entered, who said, That his Mistress extremely wondering she came not to see her, had sent him to know how she did, and what the reason was which debarred her from that satisfaction. Telamire surprised at this, did look upon Artaxander, who without any amazement told the servant, that it was himself, who kept Telamire from Clorelisa. because one of her men told him she was not awake. That which made Telamire most to wonder, was that she had sent a servant of her own, and this servant being not in the house, she conceived that it was only some mistake between Clorelisa's servants and hers: So as making herself ready to go presently unto her, she gave her hand unto Artaxander, supposing he would go with her. And to let him see, she made no application of what he had spoken, unto herself. Though I do believe, said she unto him, that you are not in love with Clorelisa, yet I cannot choose but think you will visit her, since you cannot deny her the advantage of being the first friend you had in Themiscyra: and I will be the more earnest in maintaining her right in that, because I pretend to be in the second place your friend. Oh Madam, (said he) whether I be in love with Clorelisa or no, I am sure she hath not so high a rank in my heart as you have, though she be a person whom I much honour and esteem. Since Telamires house was very nigh unto Clorelisa's, they had not leisure to say any more. And since one of Telamires women might hear them, Artaxander was forced to talk of something else. However, as soon as they were come into Clorelisa's Chamber, she chid Telamire, a thousand times, and that with a strange agitation of heart: for since she saw Artaxander with her, she imagined him to be the cause of her stay: but she was much worse, when Telamire to justify herself did tell her all the passages: yet Artaxander did still affirm very confidently, that they assured him she was asleep: But since the heart of Clorelisa was too much engaged to be deluded, she would needs look into the matter a little nearer; and calling all her women one after another, they all said, that they saw none, either from Artaxander, or Clorelisa. Artaxander then told her, that certainly some of the servants unto Belermis to save themselves the labour of coming to her, had told this lie. But say what he would or could, Clorelisa was not satisfied, and she was fully persuaded, that this was a trick of Artaxanders', and she thought also that Telamire was an accessary unto it: for since she assured her very earnestly that she had sent unto her house, and since all her women on the contrary assured her, that none came from her, she did not only think Artaxander to be in love with Telamire, but she thought as that Telamire held a great correspondency with Artaxander then ever she imagined: so as jealousy having possession in her mind, she was tormented beyond expression: and she who was so earnest in sending for Telamire, knew not now what to say unto her. Since I came in a little after this confused examination of the matter, I could plainly perceive the turbulence of Clorelisa's mind: all I could observe was, the confusion of Artaxander, and the prudence of Telamire. For truly this wise Lady, taking no notice of Artaxanders' love, not of Clorelisa's jealousy, did speak unto every thing with a marvellous moderation, and tranquillity: and certainly I came in very opportunely to help out with discourse. However, I made her since confess, that she could not choose but find some sweetness in thinking that though Clorelisa loved Artaxander, yet he did not love her; and that the glory to be preferred before such an amiable Person was some delight unto her. For my part, I was exceedingly delighted with the passages of that day: for besides the pleasure of seeing how Clorelisa and Artaxander were put to a Nonplus, I was extremely taken with seeing Belermis in his fierce Garb, who knowing that Telamire was in his sister's Chamber, came thither to see her. But he came (amiable Doralisa) more like a Conqueror then a Captive: not but that all he said unto her was very civil and respective; yet his Air and Garb did alter the very sense of his words, and made him seem as if he intended to fetter her, whose chains he wore. Moreover, since he could not choose but be talking as much of matters of war as love, he was so full of his Martial phrases, as that day I learned as many Military Terms as might serve for the Relation of all sorts of Combats, for he used them all in his discourse: so as before 'twas night, I knew what Incampment and Quarters were: I knew what the first, second and third Divisions did mean; I learned all the Postures, to the right hand; to the left hand; as you were, double your Ranks, and Files. And I knew from him that day, at lest enough to lose a Battle, if I had commanded an Army. And to be serious with you, he was so full of words peculiar unto War, that all I could do, was to remember them, though as yet I did not know the significations of them: But to complete my diversion, The severe Isalonide entered, who commonly finding fault with every thing. did not like that Clorelisa should be so dressed, since she was sick; saying openly, That those sicknesses which only draw company about One, and will let one be dressed better than when they are well, were of a most dangerous consequence. For indeed, said she, If one were really sick, they should see none but such as could cure them, or their very intimate friends: and not do as most women now adays, who are more careful in consulting with their Glass, before company come, then with their Physician: And are more diligent in advertising all their acquaintance that they keep their Chamber then those that can cure them. And to tell you truly, they have a greater desire to have them come who can tell them a thousand tittle tattles, than such as use to cure diseases. But (said I unto her, to do Clorelisa a pleasure) if you did but know how much melancholy doth augment all manner of diseases, you would say, that pleasant company may be put in the rank of the most infallible Remedies. If you should ask the advice of my sister (answered she in a most imperious Tone) I am sure she will be of your opinion, and maintain that all manner of simples used in Physic are not comparable to the company of five or six such tittle tattles as are glad to hear of any sick Gallant, who are sick only because they should come and see them. I must confess unto you (said Clorelisa, and blushed for anger) that I have been such a one as you speak of, but at this time I am so ill, that much Company are very troublesome unto me: Telamire hearing Clorelisa say so, did rise up, and offered to go away: but Clorelisa out of jealousy, as well as friendship, took hold of her and said, that she was neither weary of her nor me. Then it is of me, replied Artaxander: But if so, I beseech you speak unto Telamire to command me away, for since I had the honour to wait upon her hither, I expect that command from her. You may easily judge how Clorelisa resented Artaxanders' discourse; yet she could make no answer unto it: for her sister being very glad to see that once in her life she was weary of company, desired Telamire that she would move Artaxander to go away: And Belermis also, thinking that Clorelisa was really sick, he went out, and Artaxander also: Yet it was not before Telamire had dispensed with him, from the Civility which he offered. But Clorelisa's spire did so increase, that her spirits were so turbulent all the rest of the day, as Telamire and I, did not think it fit to stay any longer: And so we left her with Isalonide, who I do believe was troublesome enough unto her. However, since I went home with Telamire, and could not choose but talk of Clorelisa, I told her how I feared that Artaxander was in love with her: So as in the confidence she had in my friendship, though I was Artaxanders' Cousin, she told me all passages betwixt herself and him: adding, how infinitely sorry she should be, if Artaxander should be in love with her, and Clorelisa jealous. For the first of these, replied I, you need not doubt it: and for the last, you may be most certainly sure of it, And indeed, the event made it evident, I was not mistaken, for the truth is, Clorelisa was as jealous, as Artaxander was in love with Telamire. There was a hundred trivial passages, which served to augment this passion of jealousy in the heart of Clorelisa; Insomuch as not being able to live in such uncertainties, she did drive Artaxander to the necessity either of seeing Telamire no more, or of seeing her no more: but he making choice of the last, Clorelisa added unto her jealousy and love, a most terrible desire of revenge. And in order hereunto, she would not cease seeing Telamire, though she hated her as much as she loved Artaxander: for it is the custom of such as are jealous, to hate the lovers who forsake them, almost as much as those for whom they are forsaken. However, to spite Artaxander, she continued her assiduous seeing of Telamire. 'Tis true, Telamire did not think herself at all obliged unto her for her visits, for she understood by many with whom she conversed, that Clorelisa did speak very disadvantagiously of her: yet since she was always very wise, she would not make a business of it, but contented herself to dissemble it out, as well as the other: And I am persuaded, that her spite against Clorelisa did contribute something unto her allowance of Artaxanders' passion, whom she did esteem very highly: In so much, as taking to heart the intention which her late mother had of marrying her unto him, she was persuaded that she might innocently permit him to love her: so as accustoming herself by degrees to let him talk more freely of his love, then formerly she had, they came at last to be so kind, as she permitted him to believe that she did not hate him, and so both their parents would consent, that he might hope to be happy. Yet she had much ado to make him such a favourable declaration: for you must know, that Artaxander did not find so much difficulty in persuading that he loved her, as to make her believe that he was never in love with Clorelisa: for she always told him, that if he were inconstant, she would not accept of his affection. Thus Artaxander for a long time did nothing else but protest, that he never loved Clorelisa further than the degree of a friend: and that though she did interpret his thoughts otherwise then she ought, yet he was not to blame. But Artaxander having wit enough, which was also whetted by a most violent passion, he used so many elegant, amorous, and persuasive arguments, that at last (as I told you) he overcame her. In the mean time Artaxander did by degrees desert Belermis, and cease being his Confident. And since he resolved to love Telamire as long as life was in him, he thought it not handsome to delude him. Thus being disobliged, both from the brother, and the sister, he applied himself so wholly to love Telamire, as he could hardly live out of her sight. Yet one thing did most sensibly afflict him; which was, that Amaldea (who knew that Algastus, Telamires father, intended to marry again) did not approve of that which before she so much wished: but since he hoped to persuade Telamire, not to value her consent, he enjoyed many pleasing hours, maugre all the jealousy of Clorelisa: meeting almost every day, with an opportunity of talking with Telamire, and not overheard by Clorelisa. Things being upon these terms, and Clorelisa foreseeing that unless she undermined Artaxander, he would ere long marry Telamire, she took the oddest resolution in the world: for her design of revenge was so high, that she cared not to sacrifice even her very l●fe unto it: And this was her invention. I already told you, that Algastus though very old, yet had a mind to marry again, and to marry both a young and a fair person, not valuing Riches, so her Quality was good: but since he was very far on in years, he could not meet with such a one as would marry him. Yet in his Quest of such a wife, he employed a sort of such people, whose trade is to make matches: And Clorelisa understanding this, resolved to carry the matter so, that she would marry Algastus; That so being a Mother in law unto her Rival, she might banish Artaxander her house, and employ all the favour she had with her husband, to hinder his consent unto Artaxanders' marriage. So that meeting wherewith both to satisfy her Revenge, and her Ambition, for Algastus was very rich, she resolved to pass away her life with a man whom she could not possibly love. And when she considered how joyed she should be to hinder Artaxander both from marrying Telamire, and coming to her house, the crazy age of Algastus was no obstacle to hinder the execution of her design. And indeed, Clorelisa perceiving how her brother grieved that he could not move the heart of Telamire, she put the whole business upon his score, and seemed as if she only aimed at his happiness by it: In so much, as making the Proposition unto him, he gave her a thousand thanks: And as fierce as he was, he seemed unwilling she should make herself miserable for his sake. Yet notwithstanding, seeing that if she married Algastus, she would get so much power over him to procure his marriage with Telamire, or at least stave off his Rival, he resolved to further her design. Moreover, since Isalonide, was eternally upbraiding Clorelisa with her too much Gallantry, she told her, that to testify she was able to leave it off when she pleased, and if ever she would mar●y Algastus, she must wholly alter the manner of her life. But that she might think there was some possibility in the design, she told her, that a Person of her acquaintance assured her, that if she managed the mind of Algastus handsomely, and kept the business secret, it would produce a happy effect: And she employed all her wit to bring it about. And since she was acquainted with all the women in Themiscyra, which were of her own humour, and who thought as she did, that if one be virtuous, one must be austere in all their actions, she made choice of one, whose age, behaviour, and dress, did speak to be a Piece of most severe prudence: whose voice was all gravity; whose words were weighed, and whose walk was so composed, as if she counted every step. So that after she had chosen this person to propound Clorelisa unto Algastus; she reasoned upon the matter with her, and they both concluded, that an action of greater virtue could not be, then making up this marriage: since it would be an infallible cure of Clorelisa's Gallantry. So as these two women negotiating together, and engaging the whole Crew of Virtue in Themiscyra to be in the Plot, they proposed the Match unto Algastus, who not using to communicate his designs of marriage unto his daughter, did keep it secret from her, as he had done all the rest▪ At first he gave no favourable answer unto the motion, because he was afraid that Clorelisa would be too great a Gallant for him. But in conclusion, all these Ladies of a severe Ga●b, which interressed themselves in this marriage, did so assure him that Clorelisa had quite forsaken the world, and that she would so well conform herself unto him, that he resolved to see her, at one of those Lady's houses. Not but that he had seen her a hundred times before; but yet he would talk with her, before he concluded any thing: and accordingly this meeting was the next day. You may well imagine, that the mind of Clorelisa was far from any tranquillity; But for all that, not caring to be revenged upon herself, so she could be revenged upon Artaxander, she saw Algastus, and knew so well how to fit her discourse, that he thought himself to be in love with her. I say he thought so, (amiable Doralisa) because I make some scruple, whether I can call this doting fancy in the mind of an old man, Love, when he would marry a young and a fair woman: and me thinks that passion and old age are so unsuitable, that without any injustice it may rather be called folly: making a doubt, whether it be possible that love should be in their hearts, as they think it is. But to return unto Algastus; whether he thought that he loved Clorelisa, or whether he did really love her, It was a business concluded upon in a few days: and it was carried so closely, that neither Telamire, nor Artaxander knew of it, until the Eve before the marriage of Algastus: And they knew it in such an amazing manner, as did much augment their sorrows. For since that Clorelisa would not have married but only for Revenge, she would undertake to make it known unto Telamire: assuring Algastus, that she was so confident of her friendship, as she did not doubt but she would be very glad of it: and indeed Clorelisa told it unto Telamire, as if she had thought so. But to the end, she might better Gust the sweetness of Revenge, she sent unto Telamire in the morning, to tell her, she desired to speak with her after dinner, for she had a business of great joy to impart unto her. Though any thing which came from Clorelisa was always held in suspicion by Telamire, yet now she imagined that she had something to tell which would please her: so that she expected her at her own Chamber, giving orders that none should enter, no not Artaxander himself. So that Clorelisa being come, with her eyes full of joy, as if it had proceeded from her heart, she gave Telamire abundance of flattering language: After which, affecting a modest kind of shame, which would not let her speak out: I pro●esse Telamire, said she unto her, I am much more troubled than you can imagine, to tell you a thing which is fit you should know. Then it is not such pleasing business as you sent me word, replied Telamire: Pardon me, replied Clorelisa, for I am confident loving me as you do, you will be as much joyed as I am: and I assure you, I am upon a Resolution, which, but for your sake I should never undertake. That I may acknowledge my obligations, replied Telamire, I beseech you let me know what they are. I will, (replied Clorelisa) provided I have power so to do. After this, she told her; That it was true, Algastus had a long time courted her for his wife: but she refusing him, he was upon marriage with another, which was the oddest and most fantastical person in the world, and that this marriage was almost concluded: Also since he always did me the favour, to prefer me before any other, and being resolved to marry my sister, if I did not change my mind, I considered that it would have been the greatest grief in the world unto you, if he had married such a fantastical woman, and on the contrary, the greatest joy, to know he would marry me: So I assure you, I did not so much insist upon obedience unto my Parents, or satisfaction unto myself, as to hinder you from having a mother in law, who would never have been so kind unto you as I do intend to be. Therefore since you were ever to expect a mother in law, I conceived you would be glad that I was she; and I must further tell you, that to morrow my marriage is to be. But let me once more tell you, my Dear Telamire, that it is you only that makes the marriage, and it is only for your sake, I do intend to venture upon all those bitters, which are unseparable from that condition. As long as Clorelisa talked, Telamire looked most attentively upon her, to see by her eyes whether she spoke seriously: and finding nothing which might make her suspect the contrary, she grew extremely sad: not that she cared for her father's marriage, but that Clorelisa should be one whom tomorrow she must obey; this was an unspeakable torment: However, since she was ever very wise, she did what she could to conceal her sorrows, and look joyfully with her eyes: but her hardest task was to keep her tongue from betraying the thoughts of her heart, when she told Clorelisa, she was very glad of her choice. But her looks were so full of melancholy, that she gave Clorelisa an excellent occasion of Revenge: But she stood upon thorns, until Artaxander did partake of Telamire's sorrows, and therefore she left her, knowing very well she would impart it unto him, as soon as she was at liberty: And so it was, for Clorelisa was no sooner gone out of Telamire's Chamber, but he entered, and received with a sad heart this unwelcome news. How (cried he out) is Clorelisa to marry Algastus? Yes replied Telamire, and tomorrow must begin her commands upon me; nor can I disobey her without going against the rules of Decency, though she is my most mortal enemy; and though I certainly foresee she will make me the most miserable woman in the world. Alas, alas, (cried out Artaxander) I am afraid she will make me as miserable as you: and that you being continually with one who hates me, she will cause you and Algastus both to hate me also. Did Clorelisa hate you, replied Telamire, I should not fear so much as I do. But Artaxander, Clorelisa doth not hate you; and I am most confident, she does not marry my father, but only to be revenged upon me, because she loves you whether she will or no, and I wish you would deliver me once from this persecution which is coming upon me. I wish to the gods, Madam with all my heart (said he) that I could imagine which way I could deliver you from falling into the power of my enemy, and sister of my Rival, but I must confess, I know not how. And yet you easily may (replied Telamire) for I am confident, if you would marry Clorelisa, she would not marry Algastus, though she were in the Church with him, and though she were ready to pronounce that terrible word, which ties as long as one lives. Oh Madam, (cried Artaxander) what a most terrible motion is this? Is it possible you should wish me so much misery? For to tell me you would have me marry Clorelisa, is to tell me you will never marry Artaxander: to assure me you love him not; that you have an ill opinion of him, and that you wish him all imaginable ill, since you wish him to marry one whom you hate, and who hates you: Oh Telamire, Did I understand you right? Is it possible your heart and your tongue should agree? Yes Artaxander, replied she, they do; but I assure you at the same time that I find myself to be in a most lamentable condition; for I do foresee, such dangerous consequences of this marriage, that I am in one moment sensible of many year's torments. I do not only foresee Clorelisa commanding me, but Isalonide upbraiding me at every turn; and also I see Belermis, looking upon me as a subject rather of his valour then his love: and yet all this without any remedy, but poor uncomfortable complaints: yet I must seem to be all joy, for that very thing which causeth my greatest sorrows: I must obey one who hates me, one whom I hate. You need not Madam unless you will, replied Artaxander: and your only way to prevent it, is, to make me happy. For I am persuaded that a father who marries again, doth lose something of that lawful Authority which he hath over his children: and since Algastus looks only to his own satisfaction, and never thinks of yours, you may very well seek out ways to accord the tyranny of Clorelisa. No, no, Artaxander, (said she unto him) I cannot do a you propound, since it is more just to obey Clorelisa, then disobey reason. After this, Artaxander used all his winning arguments to move her unto marriage without the consent of Algastus. But still Telamire answered, that she would never do any thing against the Rules of obedience: and that she should be less miserable by doing what duty required, then by not doing it. In the mean time, the more she made her virtue appear, the more love and sorrow appeared in his eyes: for when he considered that he was a cause of the affections in Telamires soul, his did infinitely augment. On the other side, Algastus being returned home, after he understood that Clorelisa had acquainted Telamire with his marriage, Artaxander was forced to go away, because Algastus sent for his daughter: Thus these two Lovers parted with extreme sorrow. Yet Telamire was careful to conceal hers, lest her father should think that some interest of her own moved her to grieve at his marriage. And she constrained herself so well, that he did not perceive the sadness of her heart; but on the contrary, believed that she was glad (since he would marry again) he would marry Clorelisa: and he was so fully persuaded of it, that he desired her to have a care the feast for his marriage should be Magnificent, And indeed Telamire so ordered every thing, as if she were the most joyed person in the world at this marriage; at which were present none but the Family of Algastus, and that of Clorelisa. For besides the age of Algastus, which did not require a great assembly, Isalonide would not allow it. As for Artaxander, he sighed away all that day with me, and lamented his misfortune, thinking it to be the greater, because Belermis was to dwell with Algastus: so that though until then, he was never jealous of him, yet now he began, and feared lest Clorelisa should move Algastus to command Telamire to marry Belermis. But said I unto him, though I do allow you to lament that Telamire should come under the power of Clorelisa, who is both her Rival, and her enemy, yet I cannot endure you should be jealous of Belermis. You know very well, (added I) that he is more like to make her fear him, then love him; and that Telamire ever had 〈◊〉 strange aversion unto all such men whose Aspects were always as if they were ready to fight. Ah Erenice, (said he unto me) I did not fear that Telamire would ever love Belermis until now, nor did I ever suspect her Constancy: But now, I must sadly confess, I am extremely afraid of her virtue. For I am sure that if she hold the opinion that she ought not to disobey Algastus, she will marry Belermis for all his gri 〈…〉 Martial looks, though she were sure it would kill her. And who knows (Erenice) whether she will accustom herself unto the sight of Belermis, and disaccustome herself from the sight of me? But whilst Artaxander was lamenting with me the misfortunes of Telamire and himself Telamire was in a strange constraint: yet she thought no less of Artaxander than he did of her: for she told me the day after, that when she looked upon either Belermis, or Clorelisa, she thought of nothing but him. On the other side, this new married Lady had her angry minutes; and her joys to see herself in a condition to be revenged upon Artaxander, was not so tranquil as it was the day before: And a friend of hers told me since, that she confessed she never looked upon Algastus whom she had married, without a remembrance of Artaxander, not ever remembered Artaxander without unconceivable grief. And she had another addition of sorrow: for Isalonide drawing her aside, did read her a Lecture of the life she was to live, the most harsh, and severe that ever was: she regulated all her actions one after another: she did limit her to her ordinary visits, when she went to see her sick kindred: and indeed never to make any other, unless either unto Funerals and marriages. She told her, that now she was to lay aside all richness and superfluity in her dresses: she forbade her to frequent Walks, Balls, Musics, and every thing else she made choice of those Churches, which she thought most fit for her to frequent: and she taught her how to compose her countenance, and turn up the whites of her eyes: Yet this severe Lecture was needless, for her resentments of revenge induced her to all these rigours, purposely to win upon Algastus, and move him unto what she desired, both against Artaxander, and Telamire: so as she promised Isalonide to follow her counsel; and indeed, did put on such an austere and reserved Garb, th' 〈…〉 Algastus' loved her extremely. Moreover, for the first days she carried it civilly enough towards Telamire, though she did take upon her the Authority of a Mother in Law: for not seeming to know that there was any particular intimacy 'twixt her and Artaxander, she gave her a hundred Reasons which induced her to desire that she would not see him any more; no, nor suffer him to come into the house where she was: Not that I will take upon me, (said this revenging woman) to regulate you in your acquaintances: but you know when one of my age marries such a man as Algastus, one is obliged to live very reservedly; and therefore I beseech you, think it not strange, if I rob you of that diversion, because it would reflect upon myself. Since what Clorelisa said, had a fair pretence of virtue. Telamire durst not oppose it; though she knew very well that Clorelisa had secret cause for it, wherein virtue had no share. Furthermore, Clorelisa the better to execute her design, told Algastus in a most crafty manner, that Artaxander, having had heretofore some thoughts of her, she beseeched him to command Telamire to hold no converse with him. For (said she unto him) a small thing may slain the reputation of a woman of my age, and therefore I desire all occasions may be removed. You may well imagine that Algastus did not deny Clorelisa in that which seemed to proceed from a principle of virtue: So as sending for Telamire betimes in the morning, he expressly commanded her to see Artaxander no more. You may also imagine, considering my description of Telamire, that she made no resistance against Algastus: yet for all that she was extremely grieved in her heart. In the mean time, since she thought it expedient that Artaxander should know how the case stood, she made choice of me to make him acquainted with it: And to tell him, that she conjured him to come no more at her, but to wait until chance gave them an opportunity of meeting which was not a thing very easy, considering the close way Clorelisa observed, and her vigilant eye over her actions. And truly she spoke this with so much sadness in her eyes, that if Artaxander had but seen her, he would have comforted himself. But since he received his misery by the relation of a person who could not comfort him, he resented it with more violence than I am able to express. Alas (said he unto me) did the Revenge of Clorelisa reach so high, as not to marry Algastus, but only to be revenged upon me, and persecute Telamire? And can Telamire obey her enemy, and banish me, whilst she is continually in sight of Belermis? For ●ow, he will not stir out of her sight, since he dwells with Algastus. This man who was wont to be perpetually walking from street to street, from Church to Church, and from house to house, to show his martial postures to all the Town, will not now stir one foot out of Clorelisa's, or Telamires Chamber: yet for all this Telamire obeys my enemy, though she hazard my life by it. However, I beseech you, said he unto me, refuse me not the favour to give a letter unto Telamire: for if I be denied all, I shall be forced unto such cou●ses as will anger Telamire, and cause repemance unto myself. Since I saw the mind of Artaxander was much exasperated, I durst not incense him more by my refusal; so as I was so complaisant as to tell him, That provided his Letter was open, I would let Telamire see it. Thus without more delay he writ a Letter in my Chamber, and a very long one, to move her unto some way or other, how he might see her in some other place, since he could not see her at home. Afterwards he was very bitter both against Belermis, and Clorelisa, and hinted upon so many things, that I must confess, my memory will not serve to repeat them: All I remember of it was, that it was excellently well penned, though writ in much haste. And it did much move the heart of Telamire: but as much as she was grieved, she answered only in these words, unto the favour which he begged of seeing her.  
THe friendship and esteem I have of you is enough, not to forbid you finding out some handsome occasion of meeting with me, and I should be very glad if you could find it. But be not offended, if I tell you, that I cannot contribute any thing unto it, since I cannot do it, unless I do more than I ought.  
Though this answer was not to fully favourable as Artaxander could have wished, it did for a while give him some comfort: but since his passion was most violent, he quickly returned unto his former despair. However, since he was not able to live without the sight of Telamire, he invented all manner of ways to bring it about: and at last he understood that there was a private solitary Garden, where Clorelisa went often to take the Air, without any company but Belermis, Isalonide, and Telamire: and enquiring perpetually concerning the thing which most took up his mind, he understood that Belermis was gone into the Country for some certain days: So as resolving to go into that place, where he knew Clorelisa and Telamire would be, he carried one of his friends with him, and desired him, that if they met with Clorelisa, and Telamire, that he would take Clorelisa aside, and talk with her, whilst he talked with the other: For said he, Clorelisa dares not insult over Telamire, before him whom I shall bring with me, nor dare Telamire deny to talk with me. And indeed, without further examination, whether this design was well or ill grounded, he advertised his friend: he craftily enquired the time when these Ladies used to walk, and he went unto the place where they were, and he came but one half quarter of an hour after them, for he would not be first in the Garden, lest Clorelisa should not enter, if she knew he was there. But, amiable Doralisa, this meeting was in a very pleasant manner. For imagine that when Artaxander and his friend entered into the Garden, Clorelisa and Telamire were at the end of a walk, opposite to the door, coming as they were going towards them: so as all of them having time to consider what they should say at meeting, they were less surprised when they met. At first, Clorelisa intended to turn back, but since there was no other Garden door to go out at but that behind Artaxander, she thought that in vain, therefore never offering to avoid the meeting, she only thought how to prevent him from speaking unto Telamire. On the other side, Artaxander desired his friend to go strait unto Clorelisa, as himself intended to go strait unto Telamire: but since there is a notable difference between one that acts for the satisfaction of a friend, and one that acts for their own satisfaction: this friend of Artaxanders was not so ready in accosting Clorelisa, as Clorelisa was to accost Artaxander: who as witty and amorous as he was, could not meet with Telamire, before Clorelisa met with him, because she stayed two or three steps behind, speaking something unto one of Clorelisa's women: So though Clorelisa did extremely hate Artaxander, and though it was long since she had spoke unto him, yet she accosted him the first, as I told you before, not being very sorry that she had met with an occasion of speaking her thoughts unto him: so as soon as she was near enough to be understood. Since there is now no society between us, said she unto him, I should not have thought it any happiness at all, to meet with an occasion of telling you something which concerns you to know: but since the occasion doth present itself without any Quest of it, I will not let it slip; and in saying so, Clorelisa stepping betwixt Telamire and Artaxander, he could not avoid talking with her, nor could he talk with Telamire. Also he had a conceit, that perhaps Clorelisa would repent of what she had done, and hoped that by carrying himself civilly unto her, he might obtain liberty of seeing Telamire again. Then Artaxander, after he had saluted Telamire, in a most passionate and respective manner, he began to hearken unto what Clorelisa said unto him, whilst his friend talked with Telamire. But he was much surprprized, when he heard Clorelisa talk in such a Tone as she did; after she had cunningly stepped three or four paces farther from Telamire. I do imagine, said she unto him, that it is not necessary to tell you the reason why I accosted you, for your apprehension is quick enough to know, that it was to hinder you from talking unto Telamire. But to save you the labour of seeking any further occasions, let me acquaint you that all your endeavours will be in vain: For the truth is Artaxander, I did not marry Algastus, to let you marry Telamire. But on the contrary I must declare unto you, that I married him only to make you miserable. Alas Madam, said he, your Revenge goes much too far if it reach Telamire, who never wronged you. Since it hath reached so far as myself, replied she, it shall reach as far as her: And therefore if you value her tranquillity, never think of seeing her again; for if you do, I profess you will but blow the bellows of my anger against her and you both. And since it is in my power to hurt her, I assure you it shall fall heavy upon her, unless you take up a firm resolution absolutely to forget her: or at least to carry yourself as if you did. Yet never think that I speak this out of any other interest, but Revenge: for I do protest seriously. I have no other end in it, but to hinder you from being happy. I will not pump for any excuse Madam, said he unto her: I will but only ask you, why you join and confound Telamire with Artaxander? Because, replied she, Artaxander lives more in Telamire, then in himself, and my Revenge will reach him no other way but this. Yet notwithstanding (added she which a smile full of tartness) to testify that I will keep some measure in my Revenge, I promise you, that as soon as ever Telamire is married, or that you be married unto some other, I will then give her more liberty, then until that I will. And in the mean time, let me tell you once more, that you have no such sure way to make: Telamire miserable as to seek out opportunities of speaking with her: And to testify the truth of my words, this which you have done at this time, shall cost Telamire eight day's solitude: for let me tell you, I have as much power with Algastus as that comes unto: he will have Telamire obey me; and Telamire dare not disobey me: so as I see my design of Revenge upon you is prosperous. But Madam, (said he unto her) is it possible you should be capable of such an unjust design? I know that I have merited some part of your hatred: but I can never think it allowable that you should revenge yourself upon Artaxander through Telamire. I cannot tell whether or no it be allowable (replied she) but I am sure it is much delight, to have command over a person whom one loves not: And in the mind I now am in, I protest, I had rather command Telamire, than a Kingdom. But Madam (said he then unto her, being transported with anger) since you think it just to revenge yourself upon Artaxander through Telamire, I hope you will not think it unjust, that I should revenge myself of Clorelisa through Belermis. I have such a considerable Hostage in my power, by having Telamire, replied she, that I fear not what you dare do against Belermis. And to remove all thoughts of any attempts against him, I will only wish you consider what that person is capable to attempt, who could find a heart to marry Algastus only to hinder you from marrying Telamire: And I am confident, that if you make a serious reflection upon what I say, you will never expose Telamire unto the vengeance of a woman who hath recourse unto such extraordinary ways of Revenge, and who makes no difficulty to be revenged upon herself, rather than not be revenged upon others. After this Clorelisa left Artaxander, and called Telamire with all the authority of a most insulting stepmother, and with all the fury of a most incensed Rival: not that she used so to do when Artaxander was not present: but she found it so sweet to vex Artaxander, that she could not deny herself that satisfaction. However, Telamire not seeming to take such a rude command in any ill manner, she followed Clorelisa after she had quitted the man who talked with her, and had saluted Artaxander: she was also so wise, as to forbid him by a sign with her hand, and by her looks to accost her, as it seemed by his action he intended: But in recompense of this angry adventure, she showed him something so sweet and tender in her fair eyes when she parted from him, that he became more in love with her, and more afflicted. However, since that day, Clorelisa was more hot upon her revenge; and did not only endeavour to hinder Artaxander from seeing Telamire, but she broke off with all those who had any particular intimacy with him, and obliged Telamire to see him no more, upon such a poor pretence as it is not worth a mention: But the wonder was, that all Clorelisa did out of jealousy, did get her greater credit in the opinion of Algastus, and passed in the world for her virtue. For Isalonide, and all the faction of precise Ladies, who were her friends did so trumpet up the reformation of Clorelisa, that they proposed her as an example unto all youths who were too much addicted unto diversions. In the mean time, Artaxander had no other comfort but to relate all his miseries unto me: and to write unto his new reconciled enemy, called Tysimenes, who became his friend during his travels: But it was an absolute impossibility for him to see Telamire, unless sometimes at Church, but then he could not speak unto her, and consequently it was small satisfaction: nor had he so much happiness as to see any who did see her, because as I told you before, Clorelisa had banished all his friends whatsoever; In so much as he lived the most miserable life in the world. And to make him the more miserable, he could not choose but quarrel with Belermis, and they fought, with such sad success, as they were both of them dangerously woundeed: and had they not been parted, in all probability it had cost them both their lives. After this, you may easily conceive how sad Telamire was, to hear in what a pitiful condition Artaxander was: however, she must go with Clorelisa unto the chamber of him who was wounded; and seem as if she grieved for the wounds of Belermis, though her grief was only for the wounds of Artaxander. And this constraint was not only for a day: for as long as Belermis was ill, he would have her every day to come with Clorelisa, who never stirred out of her brother's Chamber: And Clorelisa upbraided her a hundred times a day, accusing her of all her brother's wounds. But all this was nothing in comparison of her griefs a while after: For you must know, that since Artaxander had gained one of Telamires servants, unknown unto her, to acquaint him with all her actions, this servant told him how assiduous Telamire was with Belermis: so as he grieved in such excess, as his wounds grew worse, and for some days, the Physicians despaired of his life. In the mean time, since Belermis mended, Telamire had the grief to see him Recover, who she thought was the death of Artaxander. So that not being able to constrain herself any longer, nor hide her tears, she feigned herself to be sick, to the end she might not stir out of her Chamber, nor go any more unto Belermis: Yet this invention did not deliver her from that trouble, for since Belermis begins to mend, Clorelisa brought him to Telamires Chamber, who having not so much liberty as to lament in the day, did employ all the night in tears: And, yet her tears did double, for the servant, whom Artaxander had suborned, did bring her a Letter, wherein she found these words:  
Madam,  
I Cannot deny myself so much satisfaction as to tell you, that the cares you have of reviving Belermis, have killed me: And it is less by his hand, then yours, that you have lost the most Passionate, and most Faithful Lover that ever was:  
Artaxander.  
This Letter did so touch Telamires heart, that though she did not love to hazard Letters, yet she answered him in these words, if my memory fail not.  
Sir,  
You have accused me with much injustice: and if you saw into my heart, you would find, that if I could revive any one, it should be Artaxander, and not Belermis: Do not judge of me by appearances, and if it be possible, get into such a condition, as I may chide you for no better knowing  
Telamire.  
Though th●● Letter did not contain all the tenderness that was in Telamires heart, become she durst not trust unto the thinness of a piece of paper; yet it wrought so great an effect upon the mind of Artaxander, that after it had calmed the turbulence of his soul, the violence of his Fever diminished, and in a few days he recovered as well as his Rival. Yet he was more perplexed then before his Combat, because Clorelisa had a better pretence for keeping a severe eye upon Telamire. Things being upon these terms, Artaxander had a new displeasure. For Clorelisa did put away that servant by whom he received intelligence concerning Telamire. But at the same time, he received much consolation, by a Letter from Tysimenes, which intimating unto him that he was returning unto Themiscyra, desired him to come secretly a day's journey to meet him, that they might consult together how to make their reconcilement known unto their parents, with least offence unto them. And as soon as Artaxander had received this Letter, he prepared himself to meet his friend, who he found to be much more accomplished then when they parted: and the friendship between them was inviolably confirmed: but in lieu of publishing it, as Tysimenes designed, Artaxander conjured him to the contrary, and to conceal it carefully. But to the end this prayer might not surprise him, or offend him, he acquainted him with his love of Telamire, and his misery in not seeing her, no nor seeing any who did see her, because Clorelisa had banished from her house all his friends. So that my Dear Tysimenes, (said he unto him after a full relation of all passages) I am persuaded that if you pass still for my enemy, you may easily insinuate yourself into the favour of Clorelisa; and have that liberty of seeing Telamire, which is denied unto all those whom she thinks have any converse with me? so as by this means, I may know how Telamire does, and you may much oblige me, in speaking in my behalf unto her. Since I shall give a greater testimony of my friendship (replied Tysimenes) by concealing it, then by publishing it, I shall accomplish your desires. And accordingly Artaxander and he, resolved to keep very close the affection which they had unto each other, to see whether Clorelisa, who banished all the friends of Artaxander, would admit of a man whom she thought to be his enemy; They also agreed upon the place, where they were to meet each other secretly: And for that purpose, they made choice of a house belonging unto one of Tysimenes friends, which had two doors, opening into two several streets; agreeing which of these doors either should enter, so as none should ever see them enter together into one place; and for the more security, they never met but in the nights, at the house of this friend unto Tysimenes, for whose fidelity he would undertake. Thus after all things were agreed upon, these two friends parted, and came several ways unto Themiscyra, where nothing was known of their Reconciliation: for Artaxander carried but one servant with him, when he went to meet Tysimenes, and of that servants fidelity he was assured. And Tysimenes, had none but strangers unto his servants, for all those he carried out of Cappadocia were all dead, so as those he now had could not reveal the secrets of their Master if they would, since they knew not the Language of the Country. Since Tysimenes was of the Prime Quality in all the Town, and was very handsome, his Return was no less talked of then that of Artaxanders'. And all the Town feared, that some rufflle would fall out between them two, whom all the world thought to be enemies: for being of the same Age, pretending unto the same things, and had good right both of them to dispute in point of merit, there was great reason to fear they would fall foul upon one another. And when they met together in any place, they behaved themselves with such coldness unto each other, as was very probable would beget a Quarrel between them. Thus their innocent Imposture did thrive so well as all the world was deceived by it. But as it did thrive well in general, so it did thrive better in particular unto Artaxander: for you must know, that since Clorelisa did naturally love company, and hated solitude; she was very glad she had found one out, who was not a friend: unto Artaxander: and she fancied some delight in contracting friendship with a man who passed for his enemy, thinking this would spite him to the heart: so as when Tysimenes went upon his first visit, she did not entertain him with such severity and preciseness as she used since her marriage: But as he was well received by Clorelisa, because she thought him the enemy of Artaxander, so he was very ill treated by Telamire upon the very same reason: for since it vexed her to see every day those whom she hated, and never those she loved, she could not choose but be angry at the heart, to see a man so civilly treated, whom she thought Artaxander hated. She hath confessed since unto him, that she could not this first time know him to be a man of much spirit, but told him that she was vexed at him: yet she continued not long in this error; and you shall see how she was undeceived. Since then the Aims of Tysimenes was only to satisfy his friend, he tempered the spirits of Belermis, and Algastus so well, as they both of them desired Clorelisa, to give him leave to see her often. For as almost all old men do love to hear talk of Travel, that they may have a pretence to ●al● of their own, Tysimenes so fitted his humour, and harkened so attentively to what would please him, that he doted upon him: As for Belermis, Tysimenes talked unto him of Battles and Combats; and so much commended his valour, that he loved him tenderly, so as in three or four visits, he had the freedom of the whole house. Clorelisa having wit enough, she easily observed how Telamire was vexed to see an enemy of Artaxanders' to often: and to vex her the more, she affected to place him always next her. But since he never saw her unless Clorelisa was present, because Telamire shunned him as much as she could, he was at first much puzzled to make it known unto her that he was not the enemy of Artaxander,, but▪ on the contrary, was the confident of his passion. But at last, she understanding the Assyrian Language, which Clorelisa did not, and which Artaxander and himself understood very perfectly: he caused his friend to write a Letter in that Language, directed unto Telamire: so as carrying it about him, he went to Clorelisa, who according to her custom, did place him next Telamire to spite her, and indeed she was not deceived. In the mean time, as those who are witty can turn discourse as they please, Tysimenes that day fell into discourse amongst the Ladies of some excellent pieces of Prose and Verses: And after he had repeated some in their own Language, and promised others, he told Clorelisa that he was extremely sorry that she did not understand the Assyrian Language, for he had one of the most pleasant love-Letters in the world, written in that Language, which he seemed as if he would interpret, but upon a sudden seeming to remember that Telamire understood that Language, he gave her the Letter, and forced her to look upon it, whilst he made a show as if he would tell the sense of it unto Clorelisa: So that though Telamire had no great curiosity to see any thing that came from the hand of Artaxanders' enemy, yet she took this Letter, not daring to offer any incivility unto Tysimenes openly: But she was much surprised when she saw it written by the hand of Artaxander: and much more, when she read the words.  
ARTAXANDER UNTO TELAMIRE.  
Madam,  
GIve me leave to tell you, that he who gives you this Letter, is not what he seems to be: since he is so far from being my enemy, that he is the only Confident of my Passion to you: Look upon him as the dearest of my friends: Tell you him, all you are pleased I should know, as I will, what I desire you should know: For it is only in favour of my Love that he seems to hate me, knowing that none but such as do hate me are admitted unto the place where yru are: Receive all his services, as from myself; Believe all his words, as if I spoke them: and if it be possible, tell him some thing that may preserve me from dying for sorrow I cannot see you. I beg your pardon, for trusting him before I asked your permission, as I would if I could: But since I could not, I had rather he knew I loved you, than not to know whether you loved or hated me, or then you should not know that I love you still, more than I did when I swore most truly, that I loved you more than ever any yet loved  
Artaxander.  
Whilst Telamire was reading this Letter with a strange agitation of heart, Tysimenes did so court Clorelisa, that she could not observe her: but striving to invent a Letter upon that subject which he said Telamires Letter was, he took up the mind of Clorelisa as much as he could. But since it was impossible he should ex tempore invent such a piece, as could merit those Commends which he gave unto it, Clorelisa told him, that certainly the excellency of that Letter consisted in the grace of that Language in which it was written; since, as she apprehended, the conceits of it were no more than ordinary. Oh Madam, (said he unto her) you have good reason to say so, for I assure you, there is no comparison between what I say, and the letter itself: And believe it (said he and took it again, seeing Telamire had read it) there are some passages in this Letter would ravish you with wonder, if I could relate as in itself it is: Also I am confident that Telamire which understands that Language will concur with me. 'Tis very true, replied Telamire, this Letter is very rare, and the interpretation which is made of it is very surprising also. You commend this Letter so highly, replied Clorelisa, that you make me desirous to learn the Language wherein it is written, and Algastus who understands the Language very well, will be a great help unto me: As she said so Algastus came into the Chamber; so that Tysimenes fearing lest she should tell her husband of this Letter, and move him to show it, he went out very hastily, as if he had remembered some business which he had before forgotten. Yet I think he had no such great cause of fear: for since this Letter was said to be a Letter of Love, Clorelisa, in her affected humour of preciseness, would not have showed it unto her husband. But a Cousin of hers who understood the Assyrian tongue very well coming in accidentally that day, she sent for Tysimenes, purposely to borrow that Letter of him: for, said she, I cannot believe it to be so excellent a Piece as Telamire, and Tysimenes do say it is, considering the Interpretation which they made of it unto me: You may well imagine that Tysimenes would not send her that Letter, but to get out of this Labyrinth, into which he had involved himself, he seemed to look for it, and at last, said he had lost it, affirming unto him whom Clorelisa sent, that certainly he had left it in her Chamber. In the mean while, Telamire was so surprised at this Letter, as she hardly knew whether she should believe her own eyes: But the day following, seeing Artaxander in the Church, she knew the Letter was his: for he made some certain signs unto Tysimenes, who did sit next her, which induced her to believe she was not deceived. So that no longer shunning occasions of talking with Tysimenes, he quickly found an opportunity to let her know, how Artaxander and himself were reconciled during their travels. And indeed, though Artaxander had seen Telamire a hundred times in private, before he fell out with Clorelisa, yet he never had revealed this secret unto her: for besides that, a lover, when he is alone with his Mistress, doth seldom or never talk of any thing but his Passion: so likewise, since his friendship with Tysimenes was made a secret only for the love of Tysimenes, he would not impart it unto Telamire, though he had opportunity for it. However, after this, the lives of Artaxander and Telamire were much more pleasing; and the wonder was, that the life of Clorelisa was also much more agreeable: for she found such delight, to imagine that she spited Artaxander by seeing Tysimenes, that she made it almost her whole business, to contrive new occasions of seeing him. Moreover, though she observed Telamire had no great aversion against discourse with Tysimenes, yet she suspected nothing; but on the contrary, since she thought that Artaxander would be more angry ●f she should marry Tysimenes, then if she should marry Belermis: And since again, she did not much care for having her to be her sister in law, she wished that Tysimenes were in love with her: And she herself, said one day unto him, speaking of her hatred unto Artaxander, that if she were in his room, she would endeavour to possess the same place which his enemy said he did in the heart of Telamire. And when he answered, that he honoured Belermis more then to become his Rival, she said laughing, that Belermis was so much devoted to the wars, that in her opinion, one should do him a great pleasure if they could cure him of his love: Adding afterwards (in a more serious Tone) that she really believed Telamire and Belermis would never be happy together: and therefore she could wish with all her heart, that he could love. Telamire, and that Belermis could forget her. On the other side, Artaxander understanding by Tysimenes, all that Telamire did, and almost all she thought, he perceived that she still hated Belermis, and that she did not hate him. Telamire for her part, she was so glad that Artaxander continued constant, though he never spoke unto her, nor hardly ever saw her, that she thought upon nothing but him. And indeed, he never visited any but whom she was pleased to permit him; nor ever attempted any thing before Tysimenes had first consulted with her: And this faithful friend for a long time did so unite the hearts of these two persons, that their own merits could not tie them faster unto each other, than the solicitations of Tysimenes did. For, when he reported the words of Artaxander unto Telamire, he did most emphatically express the amorous affections of his heart: and, when he reported the words of Telamire unto Artaxander. he omitted not one obliging accent. Thus Tysimenes at first, finding his own content in the satisfaction of these two persons, had next, the delight to d●lude Clorelisa, Algastus, and Belermis. Then would the demure Isalonide needs be busy, and break off the frequent visits of Tysimenes unto Clorelisa, telling her it was more dangerous to see one gallant often, then to see a thousand, and see them but seldom. But Clorelisa telling her, that Tysimenes was more her husband's guest, then hers, her pure preciseness was silenced: for indeed Clorelisa had carried the matter so cunningly, that Algastus did verily believe, she suffered Tysimenes only out of complaisance unto him. However, this solitary society became more pleasant: because Artaxander under the Umbrage and name of Tysimenes, did give all imaginable diversions unto Telamire: For since Algastus in his youth was a great lover of pleasures, Tysimenes would propound unto him, sometimes, that they might go out and take the Air; some times he would bring Music unto him, and some times make him a banquet: So as many delicate pieces of Gallantry did pass, under the notion of being presented unto the whole family: though the truth was, it was always Artaxander who was at the charge of the Music, and Banquets which passed under the name of Tysimenes. Thus did Artaxander every day present Telamire with a thousand diversions, and as many expressions of his love, without giving the least jealousy unto Belermis or Clorelisa. And if it be true, as I have heard say it is, that delusion is one of the delights of this Passion, I am confident they had as much as they could be capable of: since they had the full delight to know that they loved one another, and also to delude Clorelisa and Belermis. 'Tis true, they spoke not unto each other: but since they writ, and some times saw one another, this was a mitigation of their grief. Thus Clorelisa, intending revenge upon Artaxander did most agreeably serve him, and gave him a way to be revenged upon herself, yet did she relish all the sweets of her Revenge with a full gust: For she had the command over her Rival: she hindered her from speaking unto her Lover: It was in her power to forbid the Banes of their marriage: she thought she kept such a severe eye upon her, as that she could not hold any Intelligence: she thought also, that she began to love the enemy of Artaxander, and that he was ready to die for grief and anger. In the mean time, Telamire being full of modesty, though she had all imaginable tenderness towards Artaxander: though she received his letters; and though she answered them; yet she never spoke nor writ any thing which might persuade Tysimenes, that she had any violent affection unto Artaxander. And considering how she carried the matter, it might more properly be termed friendship, or acquaintance, than love: as for the secrecy of the business, she did attribute it more unto the necessity of satisfying the odd humours of Clorelisa, then to the satisfaction of the nature of that affection. Again, as Clorelisa did heartily wish that Tysimenes would marry Telamire, to spite Artaxander; so likewise she Cajoled with Belermis, that she persuaded him Tysimenes solicited for him, when he talked unto Telamire: Thus Tysimenes had opportunity enough to talk with her: Clorelisa also disposed Algastus to give his daughter unto him, if she could obtain his consent: And to bring it about, she made use of all her Authority over Telamire, to dress herself better then usual, though she was to see none but Tysimenes: For (said she, as we understood since) Tysimenes sees none but Telamire. Telamire is fair: Tysimenes is young and of a passionate temper, and by consequence it must be concluded, that he loves Telamire: And certainly, Amiable Doralisa, the Arguments of this jealous and Revenging Person were not slight: For insensibly, before ever Tysimenes perceived it, love seized upon his heart, and as changed from hatred, unto amity and friendship with Artaxander; so he changed from Indifferency unto esteem, and from esteem unto Love with Telamire. The first mark of it which he had was, that he found a great alteration in himself. For at the beginning of this Negotiation, he was wont to be extremely joyed, when he received any favourable expression from Telamire, to report unto Artaxander: or any rapture of Passion in Artaxander, to report unto Telamire: but as soon as his heart became a little engaged, he found a secret melancholy at the joys of his friend, when he told him any thing which conduced to his satisfaction. He weakened as much as he could, the obliging sense of every word, which these two persons spoke. And if Artaxander desired him to tell Telamire, that he was the most sincerely faithful, and passionate Lover that ever lived: he would seek out for words less tender, and significant; and so lessen and extenuate the life of his expressions. Again, he took such extreme delight in seeing Telamire, that he could not long doubt of the passion which lay lurking in his soul: yet truly, he oppressed it with incredible Generosity: and he opposed it as much, because he had been the enemy of Artaxander, a because he was now his friend. For truly, (said he to himself, as we understood afterwards) Artaxander as thy friend is obliged to have some compassion upon thy sufferings, as thou art of his; but if he take thee as one that hath been his enemy, he hath cause to suspect thee of baseness, perfidiousness, and treachery: for if thou be'st his friend, thou oughtest not to be his Rival: and if thou be'st his enemy, thou oughtest not to be his Agent unto his Mistress. Make then thy choice Tysimenes, (said he,) if thou wilt be Artaxanders' enemy, keep it not secret from him; and if thou wilt be his friend, stifle thy Passion, and hide it from him, and Telamire both, if it be possible: But Alas, I perceive thou wilt be neither the one nor the other, and that thou canst neither be friend, nor enemy unto Artaxander: yet one of these thou must be; Indifferency is not in thy Choice. To be his Friend and his Rival both, are two things impossible: To be his enemy, and his Confident, are two qualities incompatible: And to be the Lover of Telmmire, and friend, or enemy of Artaxander, is a condition most deplorable. For if she look upon thee as his friend, it is as a most perfidious friend: as a man unworthy of her esteem, since he betrays a trust, which ought to be most inviolable: And if she look upon thee as Artaxanders' enemy, 'twill be only to hate thee, and to enter into all his Interests against thee: Thou dost but flatter thyself, in hopes that Telamires affection to Artaxander is not violent: for if it be not violent unto him, How can it be unto thee, who can never discover thy Passion to her, unless thou dost discover thy Treason unto Artaxander also? Oh most lamentable Destiny! The Person thou lovest must either never know thou lovest her; or if she do, she must know thee to be an Impostor, and a perfidious Friend. How dost thou think she can ever believe thy words, since she will convince thee out of the very same words thou usest to discover thy Passion unto her? For what hast thou not said in behalf of Artaxander; of his violent Passion, of his fidelity to her, and of her obligements unto him? Wilt thou go and tell her, that thou didst tell her lies? Wilt thou give thyself the lie? and though thou shouldest be so base, dost thou think Telamire will believe thee? And though she should believe, that thou didst dissemble with her in speaking for Artaxander, thou wilt not be one jot the happier, since she hath cause to think, that whosoever will lie for another, will lie for himself. Moreover, consider Tysimenes, consider the hatred that hath been between the house of Artaxander and thine: Remember that thy Ancestors and his, have ever striven which should excel in glory and virtue: And wilt thou give such an advantage unto the Family which hates thee, as to upbraid thee that Artaxander is more virtuous than thyself? Consider Tysimenes, that if thou dost betray thy friend, he will divulge unto all the world, that thou wast reconciled unto him, purposely to be perfidious and base. Consider that Glory will not suffer thee to give such advantage unto thy enemies: And that Friendship will not endure thou shouldest be a Rival unto thy Friend, especially a friend who did overcome the old hatred of his heart unto thee. Consider that Love is not a more violent Passion than Hatred: and thou mayest be as well able to cease loving Telamire, as thou wert to cease hating Artaxander. But art thou able to cease loving Telamire? (said he) Oh, if thou be'st, thou art the most vile man of the whole earth if thou dost not: but yet if it be not in thy power, thou art not culpable. What shall I do then, (said he) love, or not love? Ah doubtless, I shall love, (said this tormented Lover) But if thou wilt be loving, and love with reason, thou must love Artaxander and Telamire both. The task is difficult, and yet thou must do it, at least carry thyself in the secret of thy heart as a lover of Telamire, and publicly as the friend of Artaxander: And so betraying only thyself, thou only canst upbraid thyself: And thou wilt preserve the esteem of thy Mistress, of thy Friend, of thy Rival, and of thy Enemy, for Telamire and Artaxander are all these four unto thee. These, amiable Doralisa, were the thoughts of Tysimenes, presently after he perceived himself in love with Telamire: for afterwards we knew from himself all his most secret thoughts. However, after he had most seriously pondered what resolution to fix upon, he was so generous as to resolve upon death, rather than be perfidious unto Artaxander: so as I am confident, that never was virtue put upon a more difficult Test, than his: For he knew that Clorelisa did heartily wish his marriage with Telamire, and he knew also that Algastus would joyfully consent unto it. Again, as the state of things stood, there was no probability that Artaxander should ever marry her: so as though he could not see any hopes of happiness for his friend, yet he resolved to be the most miserable of any man alive. 'Tis true, he could not easily bring himself unto this Resolve, but suffered as much torment as ever man endured. He was in a hundred minds, either to absent himself, or else to desire Artaxander that he would excuse him, from being any longer his Solicitor to Telamire; but when he began to compare the miseries which he endured by his service, unto what she should suffer by absence from the fair Telamire, he found it better for him to be still an Agent between Telamire, and Artaxander, then to deprive himself of her sight, whom he loved and adored. Thus, not ceasing to be the Lover of Telamire, he continued to be the Confident of Artaxander. But to tell you truly, It was with abundance of sorrow; and the more, because Telamire having a high esteem of him, did less conceal her real thoughts from him: so as the more he was in love with her, the more he knew she loved his Rival. One days converse did strangely perplex him: for whilst Isalonide took Clorelisa out, upon some visit or other, which she was obliged unto: and whilst Belermis was gone to visit a man whom he heard had been fight, Tysimenes remained alone with Telamire: who falling insensibly to talk of the general error wherein all Themiscyra was, concerning Artaxander and himself, she aggravated the great danger there was, in judging of things according to appearances. For truly, said she, all the Town takes you to be the enemy of Artaxander: Clorelisa herself thinks it; and so doth Algastus and Belermis: Moreover, they begin to think that Artaxander hath forgotten me, and that I have forgotten him. The world also believes, that it is virtue only which is Clorelisa's motive to see no body: Isalonide herself doth not doubt it: yet nothing is more false than their opinions in all these things, though they appear to be most true unto all those who believe them. Therefore, in my opinion, there is no safety in speaking affirmatively of any thing, but what one knows to be of a most infallible certainty. 'Tis very true, replied Tysimenes, that appearances are very deceitful: And I am so strongly persuaded of this truth (added he and changed colour) as perhaps, I am able to say, that the thing which you think you are most certain of, is not as you do imagine it. Nay, nay, replied Telamire, I am very confident, that I am not mistaken as others are: and when I think that Artaxander is your friend, and that you are his, I think nothing but truth. Also I am confident, that in thinking Clorelisa to be full both of love, hatred, and jealousy, I think as I ought to do. And in persuading myself that you do much esteem me, I am persuaded of nothing but what you have induced me to believe, by a thousand sweet expressions, and as many obliging offices which I have received from you. And therefore Tysimenes, though I grant that appearances are very fallacious, yet I am most confident, I am not mistaken, in believing these things I have mentioned unto you. Certainly Madam, replied he, you are not mistaken in thinking, I do much esteem you; but perhaps you are mistaken in imagining that this esteem is so great, or so little as it is. I must needs think, replied she, that you have a very good opinion of me, and that your Civility will not suffer you to undeceive me in such a pleasing error: for truly (said she and smiled) when I consider of it with application, I have some reason to fear, that a man who knows so well how to hide his real thoughts, is not very sincere. And truly, would not any one say, who sees how you carry it, and hears how you talk before people, that you had no affection unto Artaxander? but they you were still ready to quarrel with him? for my part (said she, and smiled again) I must needs conclude, that if you know how to conceal love as well as friendship, you were very fit for the most mysterious Intelligence. Had I a Passion which I would conceal (replied he) I should conceal it much better than I do the friendship I hold with Artaxander. And yet I have heard say, (answered she) that Love cannot long lie hid. I have heard it said, as well as you Madam, replied he, but I am sufficiently undeceived of that error: for I know a Lover, who is little suspected to be so, and who is thought he never will be. Since you do know it, replied she, his Passion is not so concealed as you say it is. I do know it indeed (said he) but the reason is, because it is impossible I should not know it: yet it is most undoubtedly true, that I only do know the passion of his soul. She who is the cause of it (replied she) doth not she know of that passion which she herself hath created? She knows it no more than you do (replied he) and which is more strange, this Lover hath Rivals who dream not that he is theirs. This doth so much surprise me (replied Telamire) and I am so desirous to know who this Lover is, who can so well conceal his passion, both from his Mistress and his Rivals, that if ever I see Artaxander, I will desire him to make you name him, that he may let me know it. Of the two, replied Tysimenes, I had rather tell you then Artaxander who it is: but truly unless I be forced Madam, I beseech you give me leave neither to tell it unto you nor him: and I shall not reveal a secret which is the most concealed that ever was. As I am persuaded (replied she) there never was any secret, but will out one time or other: so I believe, this which you now conceal from me, will one day be the common talk of the Town. I assure you Madam, replied he, if ever it be revealed, it shall be sooner unto yourself then any one I know: but to tell you truly, I do not think that day will ever come. Be not too positive (replied she) for all things that are within the compass of possibility, may happen. For truly, when you and Artaxander went from Themiscyra, there was no likelihood, that ever you should be upon such good terms, and yet I see you are become his friend, and he yours. 'Tis true, said he, the change was great and unexpected: and one cannot make a quicker pass from indifferency unto love, than I passed from hatred to the friendship of Artaxander. As for matter of friendship, (said Telamire) I know very well it may grow a long time after one is acquainted with a person: But as for love, I cannot think it can be so: for I believe that when any one falls in love, it is at the very first sight of the party loved. I should be very sorry Madam, said he unto her, to contradict you in thing: yet truly I cannot agree with you in this: for I must tell you again, that I know a Lover, who was only a bare friend unto the person with whom he is now in love, a long time before he was so: yet now he is so desperately in love, as he cannot conceive it possible, that he should then be only a friend unto her whom he now adores. If this Lover, (replied she, and laughed) have no name, no more than your first you talked of, I will never as long as I live dispute with you again: for truly, I had rather have reasons than examples, when the men whose adventures are alleged, are nameless unto me. But to tell you truly, it would be hard to make me believe, that any man who hath long seen a woman, without loving her, should afterwards upon a sudden fall in love with her: And for my particular, I should sooner believe that a man who never saw me above a quarter of an hour should fall in love with me, then that another, who hath seen me a whole year together with eyes of indifferency, should afterwards be capable of Love. Yet most certainly it is possible, replied he. And it is not more certainly true that I am Tysimenes, than it is, that I know a Lover, who after only esteem, admiration, and liking of a person whom you know, is now become extremely in love with her. If I were to talk with him you mean (replied she) I should certainly either make him confess that his friendship and liking was only a little higher than it was before: or that his affection which is now Love, did begin assoon as he saw her, though perhaps it was then only a Lukewarm Love, and he hardly knew what it was: but I hold it absolutely impossible that any one should begin to be in love with a woman, two years after he first knew her. Then Madam, said he unto her, It seems that it would be a very difficult matter for a friend who knew you, to persuade you that he is in love, unless he tells you, he was so the very first minute he ever looked upon you? 'Tis very true, said she, that he would not easily persuade me; But thanks be to the gods and Clorelisa (said she and laughed) I am not exposed unto that danger, in the solitude wherein I live. But Madam (replied Tysimenes and smiled, though he was much nonplussed) one that hears you talk, would think that I have not a heart capable of being moved: and that I have not eyes by which love may enter into my soul: But since it hath happened a hundred times, that friends have become Rivals unto their friends, how know you but I shall become so unto Artaxander, or am so already? In good earnest (said he to sound her thoughts) I think I should extremely surprise you, if in lieu of telling you, according to my custom, that Artaxander is ready to die for the love of you, I should tell you, that I love you more than he doth. 'Tis most true, replied she, you would most terribly affright me. But yet, (said he unto her) what would you answer me, and what would you do, if you should see me at your feet, protesting with a thousand oaths, that I have done all that ever was in my power, to keep myself from being Artaxanders' Rival? And if I should vow further, that I love you infinitely more than ever he did? First, (said she) I would not believe you: and secondly, I would carry the matter as if I did believe you, because I would treat you as a perfidious friend, a cheat, a man without judgement. For since I have so freely opened my heart unto you concerning Artaxander: you would be out of your wits if you should offer to talk so unto me, though it were so that you did love me very much: But (said she) I am unwise to trouble myself in a business, which I hope in the gods will never be. And yet (replied he very coldly) you are fair enough to make an unfaithful friend, a faithful Lover: and perhaps I have a heart so sensible, and a soul so tender, that I can neither resist you, nor over come myself. After this, Tysimenes fearing he had been a little too lavish in his tongue, did strive to rouse up some merriness into his eyes, purposely to weaken the sense of his words. And indeed, he did it so well, that Telamire did not so much as suspect any reality in the matter, but thought it to be only a sport of his wit: So that beginning to talk more seriously unto Tysimenes, she talked of Artaxander, charging him to tell him some obliging matter, which she desired he should know: In so much as Tysimenes, as much a lover as he was, yet he did negotiate as the Agent of his Rival, and promised Telamire to tell him whatsoever she pleased: and indeed as he went from Telamire, he intended to go unto that friend's house where he was to meet Artaxander every night. But for that night, he went another way, thinking it some sweetness to defer those joys which Artaxander would have, when he heard Telamires message. And to tell you truly, his soul wavered whether he should be the friend or the enemy of Artaxander, but still was constant in loving Telamire. But yet his virtue getting the mastery in his mind, he resolved to continue faithful to his friend; and to hide his love from his Mistress as well as from his Rival: After which, he went to acquit himself of his Commission. 'Tis true, he did it with abundance of pain: he never named Telamire, but his heart trembled: he could not hear so much as the name of his Rival pronounced, without a chinese of heart. However, since Artaxander could talk of nothing else but Telamire, and since he was that night more earnest than ordinary in talking with Tysimenes, he retained him as long as he could: for since he had opened the door of his heart only unto him, it was only from him he could have any consolation. I beseech you my dear Tysimenes, (said he unto him) soothe me up a little in my Passion, to ease me in my sufferings: Tell me that Telamire is worthy of all those miseries I have endured for her sake; for truly though you be not in love, yet it is impossible but you should know that I have great ●eason to love her in that degree I do: for if you have but eyes and any soul, you must needs know and see that she is all admirable. 'Tis true, replied Tysimenes, that Telamire is much accomplished, and if I would contradict your Passion, it should not be for want of merit in her, since none can have more than she hath. Ah Tysimenes, replied Artaxander, to see the difference betwixt love and friendship: for because you are only the friend of Telamire, you can content yourself to say, that none can have more merit than she hath; but I that am her Lover must needs say, that it is impossible to find any who hath so much. If we never differ in any thing but that, replied Tysimenes, we shall always agree, since I confess as well as you, that Telamire is incomparable, and that I never knew any so Lovely as she is. Did I know you were in love, replied Artaxander, I should take good heed of obliging you unto any such high applaud of Telamire; and should so much respect our friendship and your love, and not to wish you should prefer the person whom I love, before her whom you adore: but since I know you are only in love with honour, and your friend's, I conceive, I may well move you to do justice unto the merits of Telamire, by acknowledging you never knew her equal. But also I am forced to confess, that I am as miserable as she is fair, especially of late: for me thinks you have not spoke unto me from her as you were wont: And I see something in your mind, which makes me fear, you ●●e some thoughts in her which are not advantageous to me. Tysimenes, hearing Artaxander speak thus, was afraid that he had discovered his weakness. So as recollecting all his strength of virtue. he forced his tongue to tell his Rival, that he was mistaken, and that he was never in his life upon better terms with Telamire, then at this time. But he had no sooner pronounced these words, than he was angry with himself; and found such a disorder in his heart, that his eyes had betrayed him if he hao stayed any longer with Artaxander: and so he left him as soon as ever he could. In the mean time, Belermis beginning to perceiver that Clorelisa was not so zealous for his marriage with Telamire, as she was wont; he looked more narrowly unto Telamire: and growing jealous of the long conversation which Tysimenes held with her, he quarrelled with him; and if their Friends, indifferent unto both had not prevented them, some misfortune had happened between them. Clorelisa seeing how squares went but not seeing the thoughts of Tysimenes unto Telamire, she resolved to de●a●●e herself of so much satisfaction in marrying her unto Artaxanders' enemy, but contented herself, by taking her from him, in marrying her unto her brother. Then did she begin to use all the power she had with Algastus, to favour the designs of Belermis; and indeed she wrought so much upon him, as absolutely to command Telamire, to prepare herself for being wife unto Belermis within eight days. On the other side, Clorelisa desired Tysimenes, that since he himself pretended nothing unto Telamire, That he would persuade her to obey her father: In the mean time, Telamire after she ●ad seen Algastus and Tysimenes, she was a most sad soul: and the more, because what ●esires soever she had to disobey Algastus, yet she had not power. Again, she told Tysimenes, that she would not have Artaxander fight with Belermi upon any terms, ●ut declared, that if he made any hurly burly for the love of her, she would never ●ee him again: So that when Artaxander knew this, he was extremely sorry for it. Tysimenes also was exceeding full of grief, yet not so full as Artaxander, though he was no less in love then he, yet was a very faithful Agent in the business: for since ●e had nothing but bad news always to tell Artaxander, he told it him without any trouble, though yet he was his friend. 'Tis true, when Artaxander gave him in Commission to persuade Telamire unto disobedience of Algastus, he did not employ ●ll the eloquence he had. But doubtless he spoke more earnestly, and much more 〈…〉 ustly, when he negotiated to comfort Artaxander for the l●sse of Telamire, then when he undertook to persuade Telamire to bestow herself upon Artaxander. But Telamire did insist so much upon Points of Glory, that she would never do any thing for which she might be condemned. On the other side, it was a harsh adventure for her to think she should never see Artaxander again, that she should be wife unto Belermis, Belermis Clorelisa's brother. She was not able to refrain from tears when she ●alked with Tysimenes; and alas, these tears went to his very heart; but he made a secret of them unto Artaxander, and told him only that she was sad, or so, but never told him that she wept. In the mean time Artaxander out of the violence of his Passion, told Tysimenes, that of two things, he must needs do one: either he must ●ight with Belermis, maugre Telamires charge to the contrary; or else he must carry Telamire away: Conjuring him to assist him in one, or both these things, so that Tysimenes being put to notable quandaries, he told Artaxander, that he would advise him never to think of carrying Telamire away; giving him such Reasons to the contrary, that if the mind of Artaxander had been settled, he might have seen that Tysimenes took more interest in Telamire then he ought: for Tysimenes himself perceived ●e spoke over zealously. But after he had dissuaded him from carrying away Tela●ire, and that Artaxander had repent of such thoughts, he offered him in point of ●onour, to be his second against Belermis, who never went without his friend. But as they were ready to fix upon this Resolution, one of Tysimenes servants entered, and gave his Master a Letter, which he said one of Telamires women gave unto him with tears in her eyes. Do you not know said Tysimenes why she cried? All I know, said he, is, that Algastus, Clorelisa, Isalonide, Telamire, and Belermis went out of Themiscyra presently after the Sun was set: and I saw Telamire go into Clorelisa's Coach, with so much sorrow in her countenance, that I believe, the journey doth ●ot please her. Ah Tysimenes (said Artaxander) I fear this journey which begins in the night, will prove fatal unto me: After this, reading the Letter which he took from Tysimenes, he found these words.  
TELAMIRE UNTO TYSIMENES  
THough Sir, I have but one minute to stay in Themiscyra, yet, go I must, and 〈◊〉 know when I shall return: All I know of my journey is, that my father told 〈◊〉 that he would carry me into the Country, to the end my marriage with Belermis might make less noise. I pray impart this cruel news unto Artaxander, in such a manner 〈◊〉 may make him the least sad. Assure him, I will resist as far as handsomely I can, and prepare him for a misery, in case I cannot hinder it. Adieu, I have more sorrow 〈◊〉 my soul that I would have him know of: but how great soever it be, yet I do freely consent he should complain against my weakness, if my affection do yield unto what decency requires, so he complain in secret. Let me tell you once again: that my melancholy 〈◊〉 without any equal, unless the joys of Clorelisa: which appears as visible in her eyes, 〈◊〉 despair doth in the eyes of  
Telamire.  
You may easily imagine, amiable Doralisa, how sad Artaxander was, after the reading of this Letter: yet he was more sad, when upon enquiry, of the place whither Algastus was gone unto, he understood that it was unto a Castle which belonged unto Isalonide, against which nothing could be attempted, neither to release Telamire, nor against Belermis, for it was extraordinary strong: Also, as for Belermis, though he knew how to find out a way, to send him a challenge, yet he would answer, that he would fight, after he had married Telamire. Yet Artaxander resolved to do whatsoever he could, to twit him with point of honour, though he did not hap to make him alter his purpose: so as going out of Themiscyra, with one Page only, because he would not engage Tysimenes in a business wherein he had no interest, he took his way towards this Castle, in a most melancholy mood. For when he thought, that perhaps before he came there, Belermis would enjoy Telamire, his resentment was beyond all imagination: he told me since, that he was not master of his own mind and but for his Page, he had lost his way a hundred times, so troubled was his soul. As he was in this turbulence of spirit, he spied afar off two Coaches coming towards him, which came a very slow pace, and he thought he knew the Page of Belermis, who road on horseback some thirty paces before: so as commanding his own Page, to go and ask unto whom those Coaches belonged, he understood, that Algastus going 〈◊〉 the night to avoid the heat of the day, the Coach wherein he was did overturn, so as he was very dangerously hurt in the head; and that Algastus would not continue his journey, but would return unto Themiscyra, after he had rested a little, at the Town next the place where this accident happened. So that Artaxander understanding this, he took the way upon his right hand, that he might not pass too near the Coache● yet he went not so far off, but he saw Telamire, and she him: But since she was then in as sad a condition to see her father in that case, as she was in parting from Themycyra, she only made a sign with her head, unperceived by Clorelisa, because she was turned the other way, to talk unto Belermis. But not to trouble you with any impertinencies, Algastus was carried home to his house, and got into bed: Chirurgi 〈…〉 were sent for; and they found his hurt to be very dangerous, so that when Artaxander came back to Themiscyra, every one believed Algastus would die. Artaxander then considering the state of things, did not think it good to hazard the incensing 〈◊〉 Telamire by fight with Belermis: but contented himself with desiring Tysimenes to see Telamire: And the strangest thing was, Tysimenes was most sensibly grieved at the disaster of Algastus. As for Clorelisa, she was uncapable of any comfort: but I am very confident, that it was more, because the death of Algastus would take away her power over Telamire, then out of any tenderness of affection unto him. However, Isalonide, and Clorelisa were all in tears about Algastus, and never did husband think himself more tenderly loved by a wife, than he by his, though she wept more out of jealousy and spite, than any real sorrow for her loss. As for Telamire, she was of another mind: for she lamented with all the real sorrow of a daughter for a father in such a condition, so that she stood in need of consolation. In the mean time, Algastus after four days was at his last gasp: and that which is very observable was, that Clorelisa had so much power of him, as to make him give his whole estate unto her, if she had thought upon it: yet it was the very lest of her thoughts: but still she conjured him with eyes full of tears, (as if out of mere tenderness) that he would absolutely command Telamire to marry Belermis, to the end that both Lovers might be united. But whether it was that the tears of Clorelisa did trouble Algastus, or that this desire did mollify his heart, he seemed to be astonished; and when he offered to speak, he could not: so as he lost his knowledge, and died; leaving it unknown whether he consented, or denied the demands of Clorelisa. So by this means Clorelisa was out of any power over Telamire, and Telamire was absolutely free: Artaxander had ground of hopes; and Tysimenes was in such a maze, as he knew not what to think: yet still he continued Generous. But since it was not possible he should long continue the Agent of Artaxander, and the Lover of Telamire both; he told his friend, that now there was no need of deluding Clorelisa any longer, and therefore he desired him not to employ him in visiting Telamire any longer, pretending the aversion which he said he had unto Belermis, and Clorelisa. However, he took upon him to carry a Compliment from Artaxander unto Telamire, upon the death of her father. But Telamire being too wise to make any sudden alteration in her way of living, she would not admit of his visit. 'Tis true, this constraint of hers did not continue long: for having intelligence that Clorelisa did intend to carry her away for her brother, she secretly assembled all her kindred, who came altogether immediately, and demanded her of Clorelisa, who mourned much more to see Telamire carried out of her power, than she did to see Algastus carried to his grave: And that high reputation of virtue which she had gotten by the solitude and reservedness which her jealousy had caused, began to lessen; for she behaved herself so, as she made is evidently appear, that she grieved not for the death of Algastus. The truth is, her sorrows that she could not now be revenged upon Artaxander, did so disorder all the faculties of her soul, as it was most visible unto all that looked upon her, that she had a most violent Passion reigning in her soul. She was not able to pronounce the Name of Telamire, but she changed colour: She complained, and could not tell why: The very name of Artaxander made her mad; but the name of Algastus was pronounced a hundred times, and she made not the least startle at it: So as all the Town began to be undeceived in their opinions of Clorelisas' great virtue: Yet▪ Isalonide said, that the excess of her grief for the death of Algastus had a little distracted her: but this excuse deluded only the simple. On the other side, Amaldea wishing the marriage of Artaxander with Telamire, after the death of Algastus, as she did in the life of Cleossante, she negotiated the business so well, with the kindred of that excellent Lady, as she concluded the matter in few days. But since they feared that Belermis would be some obstacle, they did carry it very sacretly. In the mean time, since the reconciliation of Tysimenes and Artaxander was known, Amaldea desired this friend of her sons, not to forsake him until he had married Telamire, lest Belermis should oblige him to fight the second time, acquainting him to what a pass she had brought the business, and let him know that the marriage would be celebrated very shortly. And indeed, Amaldea acquainting Artaxander what she had done for him; and the friends of Telamire having told her what was resolved upon, they both of them did think themselves as happy now, as they were miserable before: but Tysimenes was the saddest man that ever lived. Not but that he did strive against himself with admirable generosity: But yet the Passion in his soul was so strong, that he was not able to overcome it. As soon as Artaxander knew of his happiness, he went to tell it unto Tysimenes: but he was much surprised to find him so melancholy; and more surprised to find that he would not tell him the cause of his sadness, as he had told him the cause of his Joys: Yet Tysimenes coloured his sorrows with some Domestic business, which he said, did not go so well as he wished: so that since the soul of Artaxander was all joy, he never examined the sadness of Tysimenes any further. However, it was so extreme, that as soon as his friend was gone he thought he should have died: and he was so near it, that (as he confessed since) that he resolved upon twenty violent courses in a quarter of an hour. Is it so (said he to himself, as he related afterwards) that Telamire is going to be married unto Artaxander, and he ready to be as happy as thou Tysimenes art ready to be miserable? And yet it is thyself who hath contributed unto his happiness, and it is thyself who cannot see it without sorrow. But thanks be unto the gods (added he, and sighed) that I can hope for nothing from Telamire, for in spite of all my virtue, if I had any hopes from her, I should have much more ado to overcome myself. But I have not so much Consolation, as that I can complain, either against my Mistress, or my Rival: And I can only lay the blame upon my own weakness. Yet though Artaxander be my friend; and though I am resolved to carry myself as if I were not his Rival: I am not able to be a spectator of his felicity: And when I consider that within four days he shall enjoy Telamire, I find such a turbulence in my heart, that if I should see him happy, I should hazard the doing of things which would be far from either Reason or Virtue. Let then Artaxander alone in Peace, Tysimenes, since thou canst never be so thyself: But in order to that, thou must never see Telamire: Thou must quit thy Country: banish thyself from that place where thou wilt leave Artaxander happy: and seek out thy death in some Desert, where thou canst never hear of their felicity, who have caused thy misery. And the truth is, Tysimenes was so fully resolved, to depart from Themiscyra, and never to see either Telamire, and Artaxander any more, as nothing could stagger this Generous determination: he seemed therefore as if he had some earnest business which called him away: And without unfolding the cause of his journey, he told Artaxander, that he would depart the day before his Nuptials, of which Clorelisa, and Belermis were ignorant. At the first, Artaxander used all his persuasions to make Tysimenes stay until after he had completed his happiness: and he persuaded him in such sweet expressions, and tender words, as Tysimenes was so ashamed, that his resolution of going away was the stronger, since he was not able to see Artaxander enjoy Telamire, without envy at his happiness, and grief to himself. However, since he could not depart before he had seen Telamire, he resolved upon a visit: but it may be very well said, he went to see her, but speak he hardly was able: and had not some company been there, which helped out with discourse, he had been put to a pitiful Nonplus. But at last he left her, and bid her Adieu, without telling her whither he went, nor why he departed. At his going out from her, he went unto Artaxander, with whom he was not able to stay above a quarter of an hour, so violent were the raptures of his grief, which his passion caused. Artaxander used all his Arguments to make him stay only two days: for since he was ignorant of the cause, he could not choose but press him to be a witness of his happiness. But at last, seeing he would not be persuaded, and thinking that the business he pretended was some secret of the Family, which was not to be imparted, he pressed him no further▪ but bad him Adieu, with a thousand expressions of friendship: Telling him, that he was much beholding unto him for Telamire, and that he would acknowledge his obligements for it eternally. But Amiable Doralisa, after that Tysimenes had left Artaxander, and returned home, he thought himself more miserable than before: For he found Telamire so early fair, and Artaxander so full of tender expressions, that Love and Friendship beginning to renew in his soul, his suffering were beyond all expression, or toleration. Yet he stood firm unto his resolution: But since love is a Passion which naturally would make itself known, he could not resolve upon his departure before he had made known unto her who caused his misery, what course he took against himself, purposely to keep him from any attempts against Artaxander. So as being resolved to write unto her, he did so: and when he was just ready to depart, he gave it unto a trusty servant, with orders to carry it unto Telamire, an hour after his departure, and to choose such a time, as when Artaxander was not with her. After which, taking horse, he departed without any with him but one Page only, and went to a friends house some thirty Furlongs off, to consult what course he should take, and whither he should wander, to make choice of his exile. In the mean time, he with whom he left the Letter which he writ unto Telamire, having punctually obeyed him, and given it unto her, she was extremely amazed to find it such as I shall afterwards read unto you: for since she afterwards gave me a Copy, I think it is about me.  
In saying so, she looked for this Copy and found it, so she showed it unto Doralisa, and Martesia: But before she read it, she told them that Telamire after she had read it with much wonder, and being in doubt whether she should show it unto Artaxander or no, she put it in her pocket, because she saw him enter: and a while after, forgetting she had a Letter which she would not have him to see, she unknowingly dropped it, and he took it up whilst she went to talk with one in the outer Chamber, who desired to speak with her: so that knowing it, to be the hand of Tysimenes, and not being able to forbear opening it, he read these words:  
TYSIMENES UNTO TELAMIRE.  
Madam,  
I Make no question but you will wonder, that a man who hath so long spoke unto you of Artaxanders' love, and hath been so faithful a Confident of his passion, should dare to tell you, that he is his Rival: yet at the same time tell you that Artaxander loves you as well as any heart can. In the mean time, it is most true Madam, that I began to love and adore you within a few days after I began to tell you that Artaxander did the same: and as certainly true that I love you now with as much violence, as ever heart did. Yet you know Madam, that I have done for Artaxander all that I promised unto him: and that in all my discourses with you, I betrayed only myself. Yet do not think that I vanquished myself without abundance of pain: but in recompense of my respective passion, I Conjure you to do me so much favour, as believe, that I never spoke one Syllable in advantage of Artaxander, but it struck more sorrow to my heart then my tongue is able to express. But whatsoever I have done for him against myself, I shall be very glad that he never know his obligements to me: and that you may be the only Person in the world who shall know my weakness and misfortune. Were I to see you ever again, perhaps you would be offended at what I say: but since I do not declare, that I love you until the very day before you are to marry Artaxander, and that then I depart from Themiscyra, with resolution never to return again, you would be pitiless Madam, if you should be offended at me for not denying myself so much consolation, as to think when I am dying, that its fit you should know the cause of my death; and to think, that haply you will confess, that except Artaxander, there is not a man in the world who deserves your affection better than myself, if Fate had either not made him your lover, or made me his enemy. Moreover Madam, since I require no answer, because I cannot in any reason expect it to be favourable; give me leave to Conjure you unto a memory of all I have spoken in behalf of Artaxander: and to beseech you, that you would believe, that if I had spoken my heart, I should have spoken much more for myself then for him. Again, I am forced to confess, because it is most certainly true, that friendship, virtue, and glory, were not the only motives which induced me to be faithful unto Artaxander: And that had I known how to have thwarted his happiness, and not yours, I should hardly have kept myself within the limits of Generosity.  
Thus Madam, since I for the love of you, fight against myself, me thinks, I merit your compassion upon a most miserable Lover: who is going to find an end of his miseries in the end of his life: and since he will not disturb the felicity of his Rival, contents himself to make the cause of his death known, only unto her who gave it unto  
Tysimenes.  
You may imagine, Amiable Doralisa, how extremely Artaxander was surprised at the reading of this Letter from Tysimenes: And since he really loved him, he was infinitely sorry, that he was in love with Telamire, but yet he resented it, without any jealousy, hatred, or anger. 'Tis true, he was so astonished at what he saw, that scarcely believing himself, he began to read the Letter again, as if he would be better satisfied: So as Telamire entering before he ended, she was almost as much surprised that she should find him reading it, as she was at what the Letter contained: also she changed colour: for since she had concealed it from Artaxander, she knew not how he might take it. Sir, said she unto him, I intended to hide that Letter from you, lest you should blame me for the loss of a friend, who certainly was owner of a thousand admirable parts: but I see my Intentions are prevented, since you have found it. Your Intentions Madam, replied Artaxander, had been most just, if they were only to spare me my sorrows for my being the cause of my friend's misfortune. And it cannot be imagined I should ever complain against you, for it were most unjust to think you less Amiable than you are. So Madam, I do not accuse you, nor Tysimenes, but think myself more obliged unto him for being my Rival, then for being my Friend. But the truth is, I extremely condemn myself, for obliging Tysimenes to visit you so often; and for doing so much wrong unto your merit, as to think it possible, he should see you so oft, and not love you. I must to my shame confess, that Tysimenes is more Generous than I could have been: for my Passion is so strong, that had I been his Rival upon the same terms as he was mine. I should certainly have been his enemy, and should have spoken more for myself then him. Therefore Madam, in acknowledgement of his virtue, I ask your leave to pity him, and that you would persuade him to live. Moreover, I ask you pardon for his boldness in discovering his Passion unto you, and beg your amity for him, with as much zeal, as heretofore he begged your affection for me. And, I beseech you Madam, Let my Negotiation be as prosperous as his: and I ask less for Tysimenes, than he did for Artaxander, do not deny me Madam, I conjure you: and let me preserve my friend, though Rival, from being the most miserable of all Lovers. Your Demands are so just, and easy to be consented unto, replied she, that you may be sure I shall not deny them: Yet I do consent unto you upon condition, that you will not invite Tysimenes to see me, until he be fully cured of his folly. If I may judge of his Passion by my own, replied Artaxander, I should think you will never see him again: for truly I cannot think it possible he should cease loving: especially Tysimenes, who hath a passionate soul, and knows no medium in his love, or hatred.  
As Artaxander was saying so, an Aunt of Telamires, with whom she then lived, came into her Chamber, to tell her, that Clorelisa, and Belermis, had discovered their intentions of marriage, and made such a noise about it, that she thought it expedient to defer it for a while, to let all the world see, that Clorelisa lied, in giving it out, that Algastus charged Telamire not to marry Artaxander, since it is most certainly true, he had never forbidden him to see her, but only at the instance of Clorelisa, who told her husband, that Artaxander was in love with her. At first, Artaxander did extremely dislike this Proposition: But Telamires Aunt, telling him that the whole Family did conclude it to be so, and that Telamire was of the same opinion, he consented that his happiness should be deferred only for eight days. As soon as he came home, he diligently enquired where Tysimenes was, and understood that he was not above thirty furlongs from Themiscyra, but that he went away from thence by break of day. So that without more delay, though it was almost night, he took horse, and went to the place where Tysimenes was, whom he found alone in his Chamber, condoling his misfortunes: he was so intent upon his sorrows, that Artaxander was within a pace of him before he either saw or heard him, but when he turned himself, lifting up his eyes to heaven, as if he would accuse it of his misfortunes, that when he saw Artaxander he was so surprised, that he went a step or two backward, to look better upon him, and to see whether or no he was mistaken: But Artaxander advancing faster than he recoiled, he embraced him, and sighed for company. I come, my Dear Tysimenes, (said he unto him) to beg your pardon for being the cause of your exile: I come to hinder you from banishing yourself: and to assure you that Telamire after she had read your Letter, did give greater commendations unto your Generosity, then unto my constancy; and that if she do love me more than she doth you, yet she esteems you more than she doth me. If Telamire had really esteemed me (replied Tysimenes much surprised) she would never have denied me the favour which I asked, to conceal my weakness from you: but I perceive she has a mind to be revenged upon me for my boldness, by making me lose a friend: and by depriving me of so much Consolation, as to think that you should never know my infidelity. For truly Artaxander, I fancied some sweetness in my misery, in carrying it so, that Telamire might know of my love, and that you should never hear of it, lest you should withdraw your friendship from me: but since she is pleased to cross this my desire, I must resolve to be hated both by my Mistress and my Rival. Ah Dear Tysimenes (replied Artaxander) if I hated you, I should never have told you that Telamire does esteem you. If you do not hate me, replied Tysimenes, it is because you know Telamire will never love me; and though I am your Rival, yet you value it not, because you know I cannot hurt you any more than if I were not. But however it be, you have done more than you ought, and I should not do what I ought, if I do not speedily depart from a place in which I cannot stay without envy at your happiness. For if I should, how is it possible I should preserve both my love to Telamire, and my friendship to Artaxander? for I profess, I have striven as much to keep in one as the other: And to conceal nothing from you, know Artaxander, that I find in myself such strange suggestions, and tumultuous imaginations in my heart, as I will not promise but I may become your enemy, if I once see you the possessor of Telamire. But since I am yet as I ought to be unto you, I conjure you to be a little indulgent towards me; and by prosecuting my intentions of never returning unto Themiscyra, let me strive against the affection which I bear unto her who is going to make you happy: for truly my Dear Artaxander, if I may yet call you so, A Rival that is absent, and not loved, is not to be feared: and by consenting unto this, you will give me so much satisfaction as to love Telamire without any wrong unto you. I will consent Sir, unto much more than you ask, replied Artaxander: for I consent that you shall see her, and love her: And I know the virtue of Telamire so well, that I am able to continue your friend, though you should continue to love her. No, no, replied Tysimenes, I will not accept your offer, because I dare not trust myself; nor think I am able to see you completely happy, but I must either die, or cease being your friend: And therefore to preserve my love unto Telamire, and my friendship to you, I must prosecute my design, and banish myself for ever.  
I should never make an end, if I should relate the whole business of these two friendly Rivals: for they talked together a whole night. But as they were striving to persuade each other, one came in, and told Tysimenes aloud, that a man, who would not impart his name, desired to speak with Artaxander: So as imagining that it might perhaps be one from Belermis, he was commanded to be brought in: and he no sooner entered, but he was indeed known to be the friend of Belermis: so as Artaxander imagining his business, went towards him to give him the better opportunity of speaking out of the hearing of Tysimenes, but Tysimenes following, and the friend of Belermis (who was one of those Bravadoes by profession, who spent their whole lives in Quarrels, Duels, and Punctilios of honour) seeing that he could not speak unto Artaxander but in the hearing of Tysimenes, resolved rather than fail in his friend's satisfaction, to engage him as well as Artaxander in the business. And therefore without more ado, he told Artaxander, that he knew him to be a man so well able to choose his friends, as he would dare to tell him in the presence of Tysimenes, that Belermis knowing that he was gone out of the Town, came out also, and waited for him within a hundred paces of this house, in hopes to see him with a sword in his hand to dispute with with him for the possession of Telamire: Adding, that if Tysimenes would be more than a bare spectator of the Combat, he would fight with him. You may well conceive, that Artaxander was very ready to give all desired satisfaction unto Belermis: and that Tysimenes, who wished for death, would not fear a danger. But Artaxander was very much against Tysimenes his fight: yet when he heard him say, that he would fight with Belermis, if he would not let him follow his fortune, out of a point of honour he consented; and so they went to the place where Belermis was. I will not insist upon any relation of their thoughts, for they are easy to be imagined: nor will I describe the Combat, the success whereof was very fatal: for Tysimenes killed the friend of Belermis: but it was after himself was mortally wounded. Yet Tysimenes had so much strength, after he had vanquished his Antagonist, to go towards his friend, who after he had wounded Belermis, had the misfortune to break his sword: so as Belermis making a Pass upon him, was ready to kill him: when Tysimenes, as wounded as he was, came nearer and cried out, It was not generous to kill a man who had no weapon. Belermis turning his head aside, and seeing him come with a sword in his hand, and seeing the sword of Artaxander broken, he was ashamed of his action, and confessed that he was very sorry, and that he did not see his sword to be broken. Thus Tysimenes saved the life of his Friend and Rival: for though Artaxander was not wounded, but Belermis was, yet since he had the misfortune to break his sword, Belermis had certainly killed him, but for Tysimenes. But afterwards company came in: Belermis retired, and the body of him whom Tysimenes killed was carried away. Tysimenes was so weak that he fell; and they were forced to carry him back unto Themiscyra in a most lamentable condition, since there was no place nearer where he could be dressed. I beseech you, Amiable Doralisa, dispense with me from relating all the expressions from Tysimenes to Artaxander, and from Artaxander unto Tysimenes, for if I should offer it, I should drown all my words in tears: And to save you the sorrow of hearing it, I will only in short tell you, That Tysimenes lived but five days after: that whilst he lived he talked of nothing but Telamire: that Artaxander was sadly with him all the while: that Telamire was very sensible of this sad accident: and that the very day designed for Artaxanders' marriage, was the funeral of Tysimenes. But that solemnity was deferred: and for some days, the whole discourse of Artaxander and Telamire was only of Tysimenes. In the mean time, Artaxander taking it to heart, that he had not vanquished Belermis: and since he thought he was obliged in point of honour to revenge the death of Tysimenes his friend, as well as to fight for love of Telamire; therefore he resolved to fight with Belermis again, as soon as he was cured of his wounds. But in this second Combat: which was one to one, he had the advantage clearly: for he wounded Belermis in two places, and disarmed him: In so much as Clorelisa was even mad to see that nothing could hinder the happiness of Artaxander. Yet she found out a device to defer it: for she divulged such reports about the Town, that never was such a clamour against Telamire, not only that she should marry Artaxander, but that she should think of marrying him whilst she was in mourning, and before her father was well cold in his grave. In so much as Telamire, being strangely moved at those clamorous reports, how false soever, did take a fancy not to marry till her time of mourning was over: So that to pass away that time more safely, which was not to be very long, the two families joined: And since the Aunt of Telamire had a house very near unto Amaldeas, it was concluded that all this company should come thither: so as for this month, we have been always together, some times at one house, and some times at another. But since the time of Telamires mourning ended yesterday, doubtless she will be married unto Artaxander as soon as this flux of waters will give us leave to return: And that which will the more hasten the consummation of it is, we have received Intelligence, that Belermis was cured of his wounds, and that Clorelisa is more incensed then ever against Artaxander and Telamire.  
As Erenice had ended her relation, and Doralisa began to thank her for the delight she had in hearing it, Amaldea entered, and told Erenice, that the body of Belermis was found upon the banks of the River: and that his Page (whose horse had saved him, by swimming) told her, that his Master being come out of Themiscyra with intentions to hinder the marriage of Artaxander, had been at Amaldea's house; where hearing, that she was on the other side of the River; and that Artaxander was there also, he would needs cross it, maugre its overflowing, and strive to get unto the end of the bridge, out of his fears lest Telamire should be married before he could come to her; who told her also, that parting from his horse, he was drowned. Though Belermis was no friend unto any of those Ladies who were with Amaldea: but on the contrary, was an inveterate enemy of Artaxanders', which was both kinsman and friend unto them all; yet this accident did strike some sadness into all the Company. As for Artaxander, as much an enemy as he was, he took care for his funerals, which were as well performed, as if he had died in the time when he was Clorelisa's friend. However, since this Accident was it which brought Cyrus and Mandana to the knowledge of Artaxanders' Adventure: And seeing that the floods would not permit them to depart these four or five days, Cyrus and Mandana desired Telamires Aunt, and Artaxanders' Mother to consent unto the marriage of these two Lovers, and that it might be consummated in their presence: And they having no power to deny the request, both Cyrus and Mandana did honour the Feast with their presence, which though in haste, yet was very Magnificent, both becoming the persons present, and those for whom it was principally made. 'Tis very true, there was more men at the Balls than Ladies: but those few there were so Amiable, that the show was glorious. And though there was no other Ornaments but Mandana and Cyrus, the sight was worthy Admiration: especially when they danced together; since it was a thing most impossible to see two persons of a finer composure, or that danced better, and with a more noble Air. Mandana dazzled the eyes of all beholders: There appeared a most extraordinary blithenesse in the countenance of Cyrus: and one would have believed, that he had received some high news, which had given him some ravishing satisfaction. But the next morning's news did most surprise the world: for the common voge was, that the King of Assyria was dead of his wounds: and Cyrus himself said, he believed it: So as all those whom his death made melancholy, or merry, were either in tears of sorrow, or tears of joy, according to their several Interests. Anaxaris grieved: Mazares was all compassion: Mandana had some pity: Chrisantes, Martesia, and Feraulas were all glad of it: And every one now did look upon Cyrus as at the end of all his miseries, since he now had not one Rival which he had not vanquished, or which was in the least respect to be feared: as for Anaxaris, the resentment● of his passionate soul were beyond all expressions, when he saw that nothing was likely to thwart his Rivals happiness. For considering the condition in which the King of Pontus was said to go in from the Tomb of Menesteus, he had not the least shadow of any hopes that he could be any obstacle unto the felicity of his Rival. However, he could not endure the very thoughts of it: and though he knew well enough the injustice of his thoughts, yet he was not able to regulate them, but he still was desiring what he ought not to desire. But after he had concluded, that nothing could either make him happy, or Cyrus' miserable: May I not hope (said he unto himself) that the gods who have ruined all the Rivals of Cyrus, or changed their hearts, will either ruin or change me as they have all the rest? Yes ye just gods (pursued he) you will either give me the Fate of the Assyrian King, or else the Fate of Mazares: Doubtless ere long, I shall either be in my grave, as the first: or else, become as virtuous as the second. But truly, in the choice of these two, I had rather have the King of Assyria's Destiny then that of Mazares: and I had much rather die the Lover of Mandana, then live without her Love. But whilst Anaxaris was reasoning in this manner upon the King of Assyria's death, and upon his own Passion, one came to tell him that Cyrus asked for him: so as feeling some extraordinary turbulence in his soul, he had much ado to obey him: but at last, striving extremely with himself, he went unto his Chamber, into which he was no sooner entered, but Cyrus carrying him into a Closet, which was within his Chamber, he spoke unto him with abundance of Confidence, and Tenderness.  
You know, my Dear Anaxaris (said he unto him) that I have already trusted you with my honour, and all that can make me live with felicity, or die with Consolation: And to testify that I have not altered my opinion of you, I will reveal a secret unto you, which I will never impart unto any but you only: and which Feraulas himself, that Dear Confident of my Passion, shall never know 〈◊〉 for since he is in love with Martesia, I will not let him know, that the King oh 〈…〉 Assyria is alive. Is the King of Assyria alive? (replied Anaxaris and wondered) Yes replied Cyrus, and when you heard it reported that he was very ill of his wounds, and thought him dead, than did he mend, or was perfectly recovered: for since I intended to keep my word and fight with him, before we come to Ecbatan, I thought it most expedient to let this lie pass for a truth: for I observed, that as long as that Prince was well, all my friends were so watchful over me, that it was impossible for me to give satisfaction unto my enemy: so as to be revenged upon him for all those miseries which he hath caused the Princess and me to endure, I thought it best to deceive the world, and publish the King of Assyria's death, to the end I might turn my fable into a history, and fight him, without fear of being hindered. The King of Assyria himself desires it; so as when he sent me word, that within this three days he would be within fifty furlongs of this place, near unto an old ruined Castle, which he very precisely marked unto me, I caused it to be published that he was dead. And I see all the world is so fully persuaded of it, that two reasons induced me to discover my design unto you: though one of them is now invalid: for indeed I thought I should have stood in need of your help to deisingage me from so many eyes as were over me, by a device which I had imagined. But now, I shall only stand in need of your help to hinder my Rival from getting Mandana into his power, if I should chance to fall in the Combat with him: for though I made him a promise to fight with him before I enjoyed her, yet I never promised him to render her into his power. And therefore my Dear Anaxaris, I conjure you, that if I be overcome, to show this Order (which I have writ with my own hand, and which I will leave in yours) unto all the Princes, and all the Commanders in the Army; to the end, that when they shall see, that I have put into the hands of Mandana, all the Authority which I received from Ciaxares, they may the more readily obey her, and oppose the King of Assyria: for truly there is cause of fear, that so many new subdued Princes, will be ready to join with the King of Assyria, to get out of servitude, unless prevented by your fidelity. I know very well your rare valour hath got you much credit in the opinion of the Soldiers. I know the Princess would be glad you should be the second time her deliverer. I know your fidelity cannot be suspected: and you have heretofore promised me, rather to die, then leave Mandana in the King of Assyria's power. I did promise it Sir, answered Anaxaris, and I promise it again, assuring that I am inclinable unto nothing more than to oppose his design. Cyrus' being extremely satisfied, to see with what zeal Anaxaris answered his desires, did express himself in most obliging Language: and afterwards gave him several Orders, both what he should say unto the Princess Mandana, and what he should do to keep her safe, in case he were overcome. Not but that I hope very confidently, my Dear Anaxaris, that all these Orders are to no purpose, and that I shall conquer the King of Assyria: But my affection unto Mandana is so violent, and my hatred of my Rival so great, that I am resolved to fight him to his grave, and therefore I ought not to forget any thing which may conduce unto the safety of my Princess. And therefore once more, I conjure you, to make sure of all your companions: to prepare the spirits of all your friends: and to flatter the Soldiers as much as you can. Cyrus' added unto all these one considerable piece of Prudence: for he put into the hands of Anaxaris more money than he needed, to appease all manner of mutinies amongst the Soldiers: so that neglecting nothing which might prevent the King of Assyria from having Mandana in his power, he spent his three days before the Combat in continual cares: yet they were cares as appeared unto none but Anaxaris: and Cyrus was such a perfect Master of his own mind, that whether he talked unto Martesia, Doralisa, Mandana, or any of those Ladies which the River stayed in that place: there did not appear any sign, either in his eyes or discourse, that any thing troubled the calmness of his soul. On the contrary, since the River began to confine itself within its own limits: and since it was likely that within a few days, the Bridge in the place might be passed over, and since nothing hindered their journey but this inundation of waters, they would all remove presently from that place. On the other side, Anaxaris seemed to be very busy: but since Cyrus knew the cause of it, he was so far from being disquieted, that he was extremely glad, he had found out a protector of Mandana, so diligent, so zealous, and so faithful. In the mean time, since Cyrus had intelligence every day from the King of Assyria, he understood that he was not far from the place where they were to fight, which was to be the next morning: so that renewing all his Orders, and all his Prayers unto Anaxaris; also Anaxaris confirming all his Promises, Cyrus took thought for nothing, but how to steal away in the night, a little before day; to the end his fight might be finished before he could be miss: yet he went late in the Evening to Mandana's, where the Conversation was very pleasant. Yet sometimes, when Cyrus thought, that perhaps, the next day before this time, the King of Assyria should see the Princess and not himself, he was extremely sad, though not outwardly: But sometimes again, when he thought, that perhaps, the day following he should be the Conqueror of his Rival, and so return unto his Princess, he was extremely pleasant. So leaving her with that agreeable hope, he returned home, and trusting none but Ortalques only, he got a horse and a sword fit for Combat. But to the end, that those who waited upon him in his Chamber, should not wonder at his going out before day, and with so small a Retinue, he spoke openly as he went to bed, that he intended to go very timely in the the morning unto the Quarters of the Prince Artamas, where he was told he might meet with a Ford which was passable, seeming to be very impatient to be Marching. So that those who waited upon him, being accustomed to see Cyrus play the part of a common Soldier, as well as the General of an Army, they did not wonder he should be so early up; that he should take none but Ortalques with him; or that he should command them to tell all such as asked for him, that he was still asleep. Thus this Illustrious Prince, after he had gained so many Battles, subjected so many Provinces, subdued so many Kingdoms, yet hung his whole felicity upon Fortune and his own valour: so that a King whom he had conquered, and a King without a Kingdom, was still in a condition to vanquish him: to send him to his grave, and to enjoy the Princess, for whom Cyrus had done such great things. Also, all the way as he went, his soul was so full of different thoughts, as he could hardly repeat them in any order. Then did he call into memory, his old hatred to the King of Assyria, at that time when he passed under the name of Phylidaspes, and all the bussles he had with him, under the name of Artamenes: He remembered the bloody fight they had at the Temple of Mars, close by Synope: and his imagination represented unto him the place where he saved his life, as he returned from the Massagettes: so that forgetting none of the obligations which that Prince had unto him, though he was used always to forget his own benefits, he made use of them to incense his hatred, as well as the remembrance of all the miseries he brought upon Mandana, by first carrying her away. But at last, coming just at Sun rise, unto the place where the King of Assyria waited for him, with one Page only; these two Rivals accosted each other, with a haughty civility, as was evident they intended the ruin of one another: Yet since they resolved to fight on foot, to make quicker dispatch they left those who came with them, to stay under some trees with their horses: and they went themselves under an old ruined Castle, where the ground was very even, to end this great difference, which had put all Asia into Arms. As they went, they talked together: And the King of Assyria told Cyrus, that he ever thought him more nobly devoted unto Glory, then to break his word, and he thought himself as much obliged unto him for it as possibly an enemy could be. Desire of revenge (replied Cyrus sharply) is so sweet, as I believe it is that, which moves me to give both you and myself this satisfaction, as much as my devotion unto Glory. What ever it be, (said the King of Assyria) I must highly commend you for it: and confess I owe you both my life and my liberty: But I am forced to confess also, that it is much consolation to me, to see you from the Head of an Army, of two hundred thousand men, over which I had no power, and to see you here upon equal terms with me. At these words, both being come to the place where they were to fight, they parted, and without any measuring of swords, they began the Combat. And they began with more fury than others use to end: They fell upon each other with such impetuosity, as if they both intended to end all differences at one blow. 'Tis just now (said Cyrus' ' and fell furiously upon the King of Assyria) that I will either vanquish, or die for Mandana. This very blow (replied the other valiant Prince, and furiously made at Cyrus) shall let thee see which of the two will happen. Yet the work was not so quickly done: for Cyrus having warded the blow, which the King of Assyria made at him, as the King of Assyria warded the blow which Cyrus made, they did not touch one another: so as these two fierce enemies, employing all their valour, and all their skill against each other, they assaulted and defended themselves so valiantly, that their own valours was an obstacle unto their victory. For they disputed the matter a long time with such equality, that neither of them could get the advantage of the other: since Cyrus used more judgement in this Combat, than the King of Assyria did, who was of a more impetuous temper. Doubtless, he made better choice of the places where he aimed his blows: But on the other side, the King of Assyria did strike with such fury, that none but Cyrus in the world was able to defend himself from the weight of such blows. Sometimes Cyrus would lie open, and put all to hazard, to the end he might sooner vanquish: Presently after, he would lie close upon his Guard, and manage his advantages a little better, also would profit by the King of Assyria's despair, who sometimes mocking at the precepts of that Art, would employ only his strength. But 'twas strange, that these two valiant Princes, who had both of them wonderful agility, if they would have used it, yet dispatched this Combat in a very little space: For neither of them being willing to give one foot of ground unto his enemy, they were always so near each other, as within reach, and every minuit in danger to be both killed. But at last, Cyrus had not only the advantage to see the blood of his enemy, by reason of a slight touch in his left arm: but also it happened, that the King of Assyria, fell upon his knee: so that Cyrus making a pass upon him, the sword of that unfortunate Prince fell out of his hands; yet he recovered himself so readily, that Cyrus could not pass upon him as he intended, but yet he could not recover his sword, because Cyrus had seized upon it: In so much, as seeing himself at the mercy of his Rival and his Conqueror, his despair was without equal. Yet it lasted not long: for since Cyrus was not capable of killing a disarmed man: and since their Combat could not end, but by the death of one, he took his Rival's sword by the point, and presented the hilt unto him. Since I will not owe my victory unto your misfortune, (said he unto him) but only unto myself: And since I cannot fight against those who are not in a condition to resist me; Take your sword Sir, and make better use of it than you have done, if you can. Alas Sir, (said this violent Prince, and took it) this is too too much: and though you do me no other hurt but over-load me with your Generosities, yet I cannot endure your sight. And yet I am ashamed (added he, and took breath) to employ the sword which you have given me, against the giver, but yet the love of Mandana will allow it: And since she can be but for one of us, but one of us must live. After this, these two inveterat enemies begun their Combat afresh, more fiercely then at first: but as they were both ready to vanquish one another, and perhaps, both ready to perish, though Cyrus seemed to have the advantage, because fury had distracted the King of Assyria's reason, Feraulas appeared; who riding as fast as his horse could gallop up to them, cried out, as soon as he was within distance of hearing, Oh Sir, what are you doing here, whilst the Princess Mandana is carrying away? At these words, the two valiant Princes suspended their fury, and stepped some paces back, to hear whether they rightly understood him: So that Feraulas being come nearer, he told them once again, that Mandana was carried away, and carried away by Anaxaris: And that unless they made extreme haste, they would not deliver her. How, (cried out these two Rivals) hath Anaxaris carried away Mandana? Yes Sir, replied Feraulas, (addressing his speech unto Cyrus) and there is such disorder amongst the Soldiers, by reason of this Accident, and by reason of a report, that the King of Assyria is alive, and hath killed you, that if your presence do not calm this storm, and give Orders to make them follow the Princess, you will never find her. These two Rivals hearing what Feraulas said, looked fiercely upon him: and as if they had been inspired with the same spirit, both said, that their Combat must be deferred, until they had delivered Mandana. So, renewing their conditions in two words, they went hastily to their horses, and went immediately away together: for since the King of Assyria's wound was very slight, he only bound it up with a scarf, he went with Cyrus unto the place from whence Mandana was carried away, for that was the way to follow her, to show himself unto the Soldiers, and to take some Troops along with him. But in his way thither, he met abundance of men of high Quality, who were looking for him: Amongst the rest, he wondered to see the Prince Indathirsis, that Illustrious Scythian, who came out of the Dominions of Thomiris with him. As grieved as he was, he received him very Civilly, and told him his misfortune in the Language which he understood, and asked his pardon, that he could not receive him, with so much Joy, as another time he should. But, (said he unto him) if you consider, how the Princess Mandana is carried away from me, and carried away by a stranger, whose Country I do not so much as know, I hope you will excuse my incivilities: and will not take it ill, that (having a mind filled with the infidelity of the Traitor Anaxaris) I do not render those respects I owe unto the Generous Indathirsis. Oh Sir, (replied that Illustrious Scythian) you will wonder much more, when you shall know that Anaxaris is not Anaxaris: and much more than that, when I have told you who he is. How, (said Cyrus) do you know him? Yes Sir, replied he, and I shall tell you more in private. Then Cyrus separating from the rest of the Company, and still riding on, to lose no time, he harkened unto what Indathirsis told him, with so many signs of wonder in his Countenance, as it was easy to know that he was both much surprised and much grieved.    
The end of the eighth Part.   

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THE FIFTH AND Last Volume OF ARTAMENES, OR The Grand CYRUS, THAT EXCELLENT NEW ROMANCE: Being the Ninth and Tenth PARTS, which finish the whole Work.  
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LONDON, Printed for HUMPHREY MOSELEY at the Prince's Arms in St. Paul's Churchyard; and THOMAS DRING at the George in Fleetstreet. M. D. CLV.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE AND MOST PERFECTLY NOBLE, THE LADY ANNE LUCAS,  
MADAM,  
AFter many Addresses, Your Great CYRUS comes to take his leave. His Story runs full of such hazardous Attempts, as bade us expect this Last Volume would prove his Tragedy. But Your HONOUR knows how the Ancients differ about the Death of CYRUS. And those who refuse Him for the Lover of MANDANA, may equally deny MANDANA to be his Mother, since That Name (as well as CYRUS) belonged to more than one. Our Author hath not showed more strength of Brain in the admirable Turns and Mazes of this Work (which makes it reputed second to none) than He hath at last in tying all up; wherein yet He swerves not from the Authority of two of the best Greek Historians. Did Annalists and Chroniclers draw up Battles with that accurate skill this Author does here, History would prove less tedious, more useful, and freer from Contradictions. But our Author is a Soldier, and spent (one would think) all his Thoughts on Seidges and Battles, till we read his Letters and Scenes of Love, and then we admire how (to both those former) he is able to afford us such Politic Discourses. There are (men of no vulgar Genius, and such as are no Strangers to the Author) can lend a Clavis to most of this Story; can tell where 'tis Personal, and where Moral: they know what Prince the Author mean's by CYRUS fight in midst of a Wood (set on fire round about him) where after conquest of his Enemies he must assault that Element: And while He and the King of Assyria are duelling for MANDANA, She (the great Booty) is taken from them both by a perfidious person to whom she was entrusted; where MANDANA is no Woman, but the Empire itself, and so (I am told) the Word signifies in the language of that Country. But without any Key, an ordinary Eye may behold in TOMYRIS the bottomless Wrath of a revengeful Princess; what mischief that Sex can do in a Kingdom when tempted by Power, almost (if Precedents had not taught us otherwise) as destructive as a Man. But herein Your LADYSHIP will pardon the Author as one born and living under the Salic Law. Yet nothing is more legible in his Chieftains and Commanders, than that the lust after Thrones and Sceptres is as boiling mad as Fond Love, and infinitely more fatal, since the violence of Lovers strikes but at a couple, when the Thirst after a Crown drinks the blood of Millions, who all must be slaughtered for that person who aspires to it. Our Author was so watchful over his CYRUS and MANDANA, that neither have their Lapses, save in some Doubt (Jealousy I cannot call it) of their mutual Affections, which yet was begotten on rational grounds, and such overflowings are tolerable in Love, though in no other Passion. How He hath embellished his Queens and Princesses with distinct Graces, your LADYSHIP is best able to pronounce: For the Author (with all his Art and Abilities) cannot feign more Virtues than Your HONOUR is possessed of; and might safely use no other Compellations for those eminent Personages he strives to magnify, than the Names of Your several Virtues. And this (MADAM) is the great Inducement made me humbly offer these Volumes to Your LADYSHIP; for if they have aught that is Excellent and Transcendent, they are yours in Justice, and may find their Exemplars at all capacities: For whose accomplishment in all Degrees of Happiness, for your most Learned and Noble LORD, and that Confluence of Hopes in that matchless young LADY, You have the constant Devotions of  
(MADAM) Your Honour's most humble and most obedient Servant HUMPHREY MOSELEY.   

ARTAMENES, OR The Grand CYRUS. The Nineth Part.  

Book. I.  
CAn it possibly be true (said Cyrus, and cried out, after he knew from Indatherses the true name of Anaxaris) that Anaxaris should be the Prince Ariantes, Brother unto Thomiris, who was gone unto the Kingdom of Issedons, with the young Spargapises, when Ciaxares sent me unto that Princess? Yes Sir, replied Indatherses, Anaxaris is really Ariantes, brother unto the Queen of Massagettes; and the voyage which he made when you were with that Princess, caused him to pass unknown in your Army, for since you never saw him, he might pass for whom he pleased: But I beseech you (said Cyrus) what could his design be in concealing himself so long, and in rendering me services so great, as will for ever after make me the most miserrble man alive? Did he only wait for an opportunity of revenging Thomiris, by carrying away the Princess whom I adore? And must I look upon this Act of his, as an effect of that revenge which lurks in the soul of that incensed Queen? Or as his love unto Mandana? Sir, replied Indatherses, I cannot tell you what the intentions of the Prince Ariantes was; but I am sure he has been too long out of the favour of Thomiris, to be the Executioner of her revenge. I beseech you (said Cyrus) how do you know that Anaxaris is Ariantes? for I must ingenuously confess, what you tell me does so much surprise me, that I must needs inquire of all circumstances concerning a matter, which would seem absolutely incredible, if any but you had told it. Sir, replied Indatherses, I know so very well, that Anaxaris is Ariantes, as none can be surer of any thing; for a servant of mine, in whom I have extraordinary confidence, and who hath seen him whole years together, did see him with Mandana; and since I desired to be sure of the place where you were, I sent him to inquire, with orders to return unto me at a place where I stayed a day to put myself in a fit equipage to appear before the Princess Mandana, whom I knew you conducted: So as this servant who has wit and spirit enough, saw Anaxaris yesterday do the office of the Captain of the Guard unto the Princess Mandana: But since he saw him, and was not seen by him again, by reason of the press of people which crowded to see that Princess as she went unto the Temple, his wonder at the sight of him was not perceived, and knowing none about him, he had no reason to express his admiration, yet he made a shift to be understood, and to ask the name of him whom he looked upon so seriously; and being answered that his name was Anaxaris, but none being able to tell him either what he was, or from whence, he easily apprehended, that the Prince Ariantes would not be known; so that saying no more, he returned in all haste towards me, not only to assure me that I should find you upon the banks of the River Halis, but also to tell me that he had seen the Prince Ariantes▪ passing by the name of Anaxaris, and as Captain of the Guard unto the Princess Mandana. At the first I told him, that certainly he was mistaken by some that resembled him, yet he was so extremely confident of it, that I contended no longer with him, but made 〈◊〉 doubt of it in my own mind, and said no more unto him: But Sir, when I came unto the place where I imagined to find you, than I understood that this Anaxaris had carried away Mandana, and then I made no question but that he was the Prince Ariantes; and truly I am now as fully persuaded of it, as if I had seen him myself: Alas my dear Indatherses (said Cyrus) I am no less persuaded of it than you, for truly were Anaxaris of a more inferior quality, certainly he durst never have been so bold as to carry away the Princess; and now methinks you have opened my eyes, and I find some imperfect resemblance betwixt Thomiris and him: Also he hath an accent, and sound in his voice, as might at least have induced me to know him for a Scithean: But assuredly the Gods, being resolved upon my ruin, did blind me, and deprived me of my reason, to the end that I myself might contribute unto Mandana's and my own destruction.  
After this, Cyrus was silent, and continued a while sighing and walking, then upon a sudden calling Feraulas, unto whom the King of Assiria was talking, he asked him how it was known that Anaxaris had carried away Mandana? Sir, said Feraulas, Anaxaris hath carried the martyr so subtly, that none ever knew until within four hours after his departure; for Sir, he went away with the Princess above an hour before it was day, yet it was not known that she was not in her Chamber, until an hour before I departed, with intention to come hither; and which is strangest, Arianite whom she left behind her, had orders to conceal her departure as well as Pherenice, and all the rest of the women: But Doralisa and Martesia are with her: Oh Feraulas (said Cyrus) this cannot be, I can never believe that Mandana would let herself be carried away, and carried away by Anaxaris: Sir, replied Feraulas, it is as far from my belief as yours, but it is a certain truth, that neither the Princess, nor either of the Ladies who are with her, did call any unto their aid; that all Mandana's guard followed her, and that Andramites and his friends are gone with her: The greatest wonder is, Arianite said, that Anaxaris came and caused Martesia to be waked, to the end she might awake Mandana, which after she had accordingly done, he spoke unto the Princess, that he read something unto her out of a Letter which he had, and that he showed unto her a Scarf, which she looked upon with a torrent of tears in her eyes, and with extreme bitterness of heart. Arianite said further, that after Mandana had caused Martesia to come unto her, and had sent to waken Doralisa, they both of them wept a while with her, and afterwards the Princess rising in haste, whilst Anaxaris went to take orders for her departure, she did nothing else but shed tears whilst she was dressing: She also said, that as the Princess was ready to depart, and to take Coach at a pair of stairs in a back Court, Martesia commanded her from the Princess to cause her women not to open the door of her Chamber until it was very late. Then Arianite pressing Martesia to tell her whether the Priucess went, why she grieved? and why she carried not all her women with her? You shall ere long have orders to come unto her (replied Martesia) But in the mean time my dear Arianite (said She) repent of your serving the King of Assiria, since perhaps you were the cause of his killing the illustrious Cyrus, and of the Princess' death for very grief of his loss: You may well conceive Sir, that a woman who thought the King of Assiria dead, was extremely surprised to hear that he lived, and that he had killed you; yet she could not express her wonder, for Martesia and Doralisa followed Mandana with as much haste as sorrow. However, since this news did touch Arianite very much, she imparted it unto the rest of the Princess' women, and also awaked Pherenice to tell her. So that having passed away the rest of the night, and part of the morning in reasoning upon this strange adventure, she sent to seek out Chrisantes, yet it was long before her servant could get out, because the four Guards which Anaxaris had placed at the Gate of the Castle, would not suffer any to pass out, because their orders was to the contrary; but at last obtaining their leave, this servant got out and went unto Chrisantes, who understood before that you Sir was not at your own lodging: And hearing at the same time by Arianita that the Princess was also gone out, he thought it not fit to conceal her astonishment: So that acquainting the Prince Artamas, Mazares, Intaphernes, Myrsiles and others with it, there was presently raised so great a report of your death Sir, and of the Princesses her departure, that I am not able to represent unto you the disorder which this sad news caused, both amongst all your friends, and amongst the Soldiers: The greatest wonder was, that none knew what course to take, nor from whom to receive orders: Some said the best way was; to go unto the King of Hyrcania, others unto Croessus, and every one voting to revenge your death, and going after Mandana, yet all their Spirits were in such disorder, that neither of those courses was taken: Some said that happily Anaxaris had not carried away the Princess, considering the manner of her departure: But the Prince Myrsiles understanding from some of his servants, that Andramites many days since had prepared some of his friends for some great design, which he said he had in hand, he made no question but his design was; that knowing Anaxaris would carry away Mandana, he would also carry away his adored Doralisa: So that supposing them to be carried away by fallacies, this Prince making no reckonings of these reports which went of the King of Assiria's being alive, and that he had killed you, he assembled together some of his friends, and went in all haste to see if he could discover which way Anaxaris took. The Prince Mazares also took up the same design, but took another way: As for the Prince Artamas, Intaphernes, Chrisantes, Aglatidas, and myself, we divided ourselves with intentions to find you out: So that being guided doubtless by the Gods unto the place where you were, I have good reason to believe that they will also guide you Sir very shortly unto the place where Mandana is: No no, replied this grieved Prince, there is no hopes, but on the contrary all is to be feared. After this, the Sibels answer which was brought him by Ortalques coming into his mind, he assured himself that he was destined unto a sad fate, and that Thomiris would destroy him. Then also he believed that the Oracle of the Assyrian King would be fully completed, and prove to his Rival's advantage; nor durst he so much as hope, that the Oracle which the Princess of Salamis had received, could be interpreted unto his advantage: So that his Spirits being wholly possessed with sorrow, he talked no more of what happened in the place where Arianita was, from whose own mouth he intended to be precisely satisfied of all that Feraulas told him. He found her with Pherenice, Amalde, Telamire, and all the rest of the Ladies which used to accompany her, but he found them all in tears; yet his sight was a great comfort unto them; supposing that since he was living, they needed not to fear Mandana. However, their astonishment was not a little unto them that believed the King of Assyria dead, and had heard say afterwards, that he had killed Cyrus, when they saw them both living, and carry themselves to each other as formerly. And after they were informed of all that Arianita knew; after they had examined the four Guards whom Anaxaris had left, and who knew nothing but that Anaxaris had commanded them to let none go out of the Castle until it was late, and that the King of Assyria had been dressed of a slight wound which he had in his left Atm, they advised together upon the best expedients in such a disastrous occasion, 'Tis true; their counsels were often interrupted, for men come from all Quarters of the Army to be satisfied concerning this great report which was so suddenly spread abroad, both concerning the King of Assyria's life, and the death of Cyrus, and also the carrying away of Mandana.  
But at the last, since the necessity of the business did extremely urge it, Cyrus with the advice of all his friends and of his Rival, and when they understood that Anaxaris had not above a hundred men with him, resolved that the King of Assiria, the Prince Artamas, the Prince Intaphernes and himself, should each of them take two hundred horse, and divide themselves, to try if any of them could find out the way which Anaxaris took, of which they had no light at all. But since Cyrus was glad that some of his friends would be with the Assyrian King, in case he should find Mandana, and recover her out of Anaxaris his hands: And so he had no means to break his promise and carry her away for himself, therefore Cyrus transacted with abundance of discretion, maugre all his sorrows: And caused many of his friends to follow his Rival, As Araspes, Aglatidas and some others. Thus these four Princes, taking with them such men as they stood in need of, they parted, after they had agreed upon the several ways which they were to take, and of the place unto which they would send intelligence in case they heard any news of Mandana: But when these four Troops had taken their several ways, and that Cyrus marched and enquired all the way he went; also when he considered how after he had taken Sinope, Artaxates Babylon, Sardis and Cumes; and how after he had subdued so many Kingdoms, and delivered Mandana when she was carried away by the King of Assiria, by the Prince Mazares, and by the King of Pontus, now to see her carried away again, by the Prince Ariantes, he fell into a most extreme despair: For he saw himself in as miserable a condition, as he was when he went under the name of Artamenes, when upon his return from Massagettes, as he approached Thimiscyra, he understood, that the King of Assiria under the name of Philidaspes had carried away Mandana; yet sometimes he imagined that Ariantes perhaps had not carried her away; but this imagination was very weak in him: for having confidence in his secrecy, he had told him the the hour when he was to fight with the King of Assiria: So as seeing he had carried away Mandana, before he had so much as fought with his enemy, he could not find any foundation of hope: And not knowing well what to think of this cross adventure, he very well saw it to be full of cruelty unto him. In the mean time, all his vigilancy and cares to enlighten his knowledge was in vain. The Prince Artamas, was no more happy than he was in his way; no more was Intaphernes. But though these three Princes with Mersyles sought Ariantes in vain: It was otherwise with the King of Assiria; for fortune seemed to conduct him unto unto Mandana; and he found the way she went, within forty furlongs of the place where he parted from Cyrus; so as making all haste after, and continually enquiring, he understood that the Coach in which the Princess was, being broken, it would be a long while before it could be mended So as then hoping to overtake them quickly, he marched so fast, that he came at last upon a little Hill within thirty furlongs of the Euxine Bridge: from whence he saw horsemen coming out of a little Wood; he saw a Coach stay: also he saw a Lady sitting under some Trees, whose head leaned upon the knees of another, and who by her action seemed to wipe away her tears, there being another woman upon her knees before him, who also behaved herself as if she wept: So as knowing that Mandana had none with her but Doralisa and Martesia, he doubted not but it was she whom he saw. Then without the delay of one minute he encouraged his men unto valour. He commanded them to have a principle care, not to fight over near Mandana, lest they should unawares hurt her: After which he commanded them to march, and at the very first to cut all the Reighs of that Charrot in which the Princess was, to the end Ariantes might be disabled from carrying her away: yet since he was not near enough to know their faces, he only conjectured who they were; but his conjecture and appearances deceived him: for Ariantes having left Mandana under that shade, was gone himself to inquire whether the Coach could pass a certain way which would shorten that way at least two hours, in going unto the Port where he had provided a Ship, as soon as he understood that Cyrus was to fight with the King of Assiria: So that Andramites staying to command Mandanas' Guard no sooner saw this body of Cavelry appear, in the head of which was the King of Assirias but he expected an assault. Yet to the end he might know who it was that assaulted him, he sent out one of his men to know who those were which he saw: And commanding all the rest to prepare themselves for a stout defence: he set one party about Mandana, and placed so me other at the entry into the little Wood, which was easily defended, because they could not be surrownded. Since all this could not be done but in Mandanas' sight; and since her magination was filled with a fancy that the King of Assiria had killed Cyrus, she started up in great haste, conjuring Andramites that if it were the King of Assiria which appeared, to defend her against him; and obliged also Doralisa to employ all her power over Andramines, to make him lose his life rather than suffer her to fall into the hands of a man whom she thought had killed Cyrus: She had no sooner said this, but those whom Andramites had sent to diseover whether or no it was the King of Assiria returned with all speed, & assuaed him that it was the King of Assiria. So that Mandana aggravating her prayers unto Andramites, and her commands upon her Guards, she herself was an obstacle unto those who came to deliver her; not imagining that there could be more danger in being carried away by Anaxaris whom she did not know to be Ariantes, then by the King of Assiria by Mazares, or by the King of Pontus.  
Adramites after he had assured her, that he would die in her service, and after he had sent to acquaint Ariantes with the adventure, he advanced towards the King of Assyria, as the King of Assyria advanced towards him, so that a most fatal and terrible combat began betwixt them. Since the King of Assyria in his march had divided his men into many small Parties, lest he should be mistaken, and since his intelligence of Mandana's march was various, he was no more numerous than his adversary, so that the combat being upon equal terms; it was both sharp and bloody. But whilst they were at handy blows, and whilst Andramites endeavoured to hinder the King of Assyria from coming at Mandana, that Princess would needs go unto her Coach whilst Andramites kept his ground: But since the King of Assyria had been exactly obeyed, she found that some of his men had cut the Reins of his horses; so that returning unto the foot of a tree environed with those whom Andramites had left to guard her, her imaginations were beyond all expressions, especially when she knew the King of Assyria, and saw him fight with incredible fury; for seeing him with the same Sword wherewith she thought he had killed Cyrus, her sorrows were such as words cannot represent. Alas (said she, ifting up her eyes to heaven and sighing) must I come under the power of him who hath taken away the life of the most illustrious Prince that ever breathed, and unto whom I was most obliged of all men living? Oh ye just Gods (cried she, and bathed her eyes in tears) Since the death of Cyrus must infallibly be the cause of mine, I beseech you defer it no longer, but let me even now expire with sorrow; and if you will be favourable unto me, let those who fight in my defence revenge the death of Cyrus upon the King of Assyria; or at the haste, let not that unjust Prince triumph over my Tomb, much less over my person. Whilst Mandana was thus breathing up her prayers to heaven, a great noise of strange voice▪ of arms, and of horses was heard, one man no sooner fell of each side, but another stepped into his place, and their fury both in assaulting and defending was as hot as at the first. The King of Assyria for his part did things beyond a man, and he killed almost as many with his own hand, as all the rest of his followers did. On the other side, Andramites as well in point of love as honour, did what a man of courage could do; but since the King of Assyria was stoutly seconded by Aglatidas and Araspes, he pressed so hard upon those he assaulted, that they were forced to give ground; so that Mandana, Doralisa, and Martesia, then thinking they should fall under the King of Assyria's power, they all breathed out such scrie●● of sorrow, as reached the ears of Andramites.  
This Lover no sooner heard the voice of the person whpm he adored, but recollecting new vigour, and encouraging his men both by his example and language, he repulsed those who had repulsed him; then seeking for the King of Assyria, maugre the confession of the combat, he fell upon him with extreme fury, and environed him with four of his men; So that the King of Assyria being weary with the combat which he had in the morning with Cyrus, who had wounded him slightly in the left arm, and now not having his usual strength, he could not resist so many upon him at once. Also his design being to squander those who assaulted him at the very first, he weakened himself at the very beginning of the combat, and lost part of his forces: So that being now over-matched, he was wounded in several places: 'Tis true, his wounds cost others of his enemies very dear, and if his horse had not been killed under him, he had not been so easily vanquished; yet after he was dismounted, he did not render himself, but on the contrary redoubling his fury, he did things above imagination, for maugre the valour of them who were upon him on all sides, he made his way through in despite of them, and perhaps finding his strength to fail, he put his whole strength he had left unto it, and made his way with such vigour, that he broke through them, and went strait unto those who guarded Mandana. But in lieu of being able to assault as he designed by his action, he fell down after he had received a blow upon his Thigh, which hindered him from sustaining himself; so that the Guards had dispatched him, if Andramites who saw him fall had not forbidden them, after they had seized uphn his Sword which dropped out of his hand as he fell. In the mean while Aglatidas and Aaspes, who fought for Cyrus, and not for the King of Assrria, continued the combat with incredible valour. But whilst Andramites resisted them, the King of Assyria striving to get up, he saw Mandana turning away her head from the sight of him, and stepping some paces further from him; but love strengthening his desires, he got up, and passing through those who guarded the Princess, he came to her and fell at her feet, and lest she should get further off, he took hold of her Gown, the Princess imagining that he held it with the same hand that killed Cyrus, did strive to get away, and speaking with as much anger as sorrow; Away, away (said she unto him) how dare you touch me after you have sent Cyrus to his grave? Cyrus, Isay, unto whom you owe both your life and liberty, and for whom only I desire to live, yet I see you so impudently bold as to appear before me with a Sword stained with his blood, and to stay me with that hand which gave him his death: The King of Assyria surprised at Mandana's Speech, and desiring to die unhated: Oh I beseech you Madam (said he unto her) Do not put new torments of hatred upon me, I have not killed Cyrus, and I am so far from being his Conqueror, that certainly he had been mine, if the news of your carrying away had not taken up our combat; and to testify that I am as full of sincerity as love, I must ingenuously confess that he hath once more given me my life, though I was not able to yield you unto him: How (cried out Mandana) is not Cyrus dead? No Madam, replied he, but the unfortunate Prince whom you see at your feet is going to die, and to die desperate, unless you will pardon his crimes, and unless you will promise him some sighs for the blood he has lost in endeavouring to set you at liberty.  
Mandana then judging by the man of the King of Assiria's Speech that Cyrus was not dead, and believing that Anaxaris, uhom she knew not to be Ariantes had deceived her, commanded her Guards to cry unto Andramites that Cyrus was living, to the end he might give over the combat; but the King of Assyria interrupting her: No, no Madam, said he, do not deceive yourself, but believe, that if those who fight for me be overcome, Cyrus perhaps will for ever lose you, for Anaxaris is Brother unto the Queen of the Massagettes, and he carries you away out of revenge to her, or out of the love of himself: All this while you have ●cited Andramites to fight against your Deliverers, and your order's Madam have brought me into this deplorable condition, yet I do not murmur, but know too too la●e, that since Cyrus doth love you, I ought not to love you, but must resolve upon my death, since I am forced to say (as much my Rival as he is) that he deserves you better than any else. As the King of Assyria was saying so, and as Mandana was in extreme astonishment, and unconceivable sorrow, though she was much joyed to hear that Cyrus was living, the Prince Ariantes (whom Andramites had sent to come up, and west strait unto the place where Mandana was, whilst Andramites with his remnant) was fight with Aglatidas, Araspes, and their residue: But his intention was to carry away Mandana, Doralisa, and Martesia by force upon horses unto the Port where his ●hip stayed, whilst Andramites held the rest in play, and hindered them from pursuing. But Ariantes no sooner appeared, than the King of Assyria wounded as he was, and though he was not able to get on his knee, he showed such a piece of courage as transcends all belief, for snatching a Sword from one of the Guards, and kneeling upon on● knee as I said before, he held Mandana by the Gown with his left hand, and the Sword in his right: Then looking upon Ariantes as he came to him with a menacing action, Though I have but a small pittance of lise to live (said he unto him in a tone which spoke both fury and faintness) yet I have enough to defend the liberty of this Princess, and to keep her for my Rival: If you be wise, pursued he, learn by my lamentable destiny, not to persecute this Princess, for if you do, I profess you must first kill me before I will let her go. The King of Assyria pronounced these words with such a generous fury, that he imprinted some respects in the souls of all that heard him, even in Ariantes himself: Also the King of Assyria, holding Mandana by the Gown, Ariantes had much ado to part them, out of his fears to hurt the Princess, in forcing the King of Assyria to let her go. In the mean time Mandana desirous to be satisfied from his own mouth whether or no he was her Protector, and whether he thought Cyrus to be dead, she began to command him to cease fight, but she perceived by his answer that the King of Assyria had spoken truth, and better by his action, for he fearing lest more company should come in, and lest Andramites should be vanquished, he commanded that they should separate Mandana from the King of Assyria. But this unfortunate Prince no sooner saw them advancing towards him to that intent, but without quitting Mandana's Gown, he gave him who first advanced such a furious blow, that the man fell half dead at the feet of the Princess: So that Ariantes being incensed at his resistance, went himself to make him quit Mandana, when he saw Aglatidas, who having left Araspes to command those who were still fight, came with five or six of his men to assault him: So as being forced unto a defence, he recoiled some paces from the King of Assiria, whom two of the Guard which were left with him, whereof the one of them was Brother unto him whom that unfortunate Prince had last wounded, both of them fell upon him behind, and took his Sword from him, say what Mandana could to the contrary, for this Princess seeing how things stood, did what she could to defend him, who now defended her, considering the pitiful condition wherein he was; and she was now as careful of preserving his life, as she was of causing his death, when she thought he had killed Cyrus: 'Tis true, all her cares were fruitless, because the last blows which this unfortunate Prince had received, did so upon a sudden enfeeble him, as not being able to sustain himself upon one knee, he fell upon that arm which held Mandana's Gown, and so weakly supported himself: So that the Princess seeing him ready to expire, and being moved with extreme compassion, she sat down upon the grass, whilst the fight continued some fifteen or twenty paces from her; and this miserable Prince, whose strength more and more failed, rested his drooping head upon Mandana's knee; and this generous and pitiful Princess seeing him ready to expire, did not draw back from him as she did a quarter of an hour before, and would not deny him the consolation of taking his last breath upon her knee. Since his great loss of blood had taken away from him some part of his fierceness, by taking away his strength, and since he had his reason very perfect, because he feared not death, he uttered nothing concerning Mandana, but yet what was very tender and moving: 'Tis true, he spoke but little, yet that little wrought great effect upon the heart of that Princess: And to make the freedom of his soul appear, he remembered the Oracle which he received at Babylon in the Temple of Jupiter Belus, which said thus unto him.  

Well mayest thou hope to make her mourn,  
For all her cruelty and scorn,  
Because hereafter in her Arms,  
Thou there shalt find such pleasing charms,  
As quite shall terminate thy pain,  
And never shall complain again.   
This Prince very probably remembering this Oracle, lifting up his eyes in a languishing manner, and looking upon the Princess; I beseech you Madam (said he unto her in a dying tone,) let me have some share in those sighs which I hear you breath, to the end that dying in your Arms, I may meet with that rest which the Gods have promised me by their Oracles: I assure you Sir (said she and sighed again) that what you have now done for me, makes me extremely sad to see you in this condition, and if I were able to preserve your life, as you would my liberty, I would do it with all my heart: It is enough divine Madam (said he unto her in a very low voice) and I shall die much more happy than I lived, since I shall die unhated by the divine Mandana. As this unfortunate Prince said so, he offered respectively to take the hand of the Princess, but at the very first touch of it he lost his speech, and in a hollow whisper did let her understand that which his tongue could not pronounce: So as this deplorable Prince dying immediately after, he had the glory to make Mandana sigh, and really to pity his death, who had been the greatest torment of her life. In the mean while the combat continued still, but since the presence of Ariantes had given fresh hearts unto his men, the face of things changed, and both Aglatidas and Araspes who were met, could not with all their valour prevent almost an absolute defeat; for since the horse of Aglatidas was killed, and himself wounded in the arm, Araspes also being hurt in his right hand, Ariantes and Andramites left a Party of their men to keep in work those few men which resisted them, and went with the rest unto the place where Mandana was; and say what she would or could, she must submit unto force, and be carried away against her will, not but that it grieved Ariantes to the soul, that his passion should transport him beyond his due respects. But though he asked pardon for the violence he offered, yet he behaved himself as a man who would execute his design; and indeed he carried Mandana, Doralisa, and Martesia, unto the Port where the Ship waited; and as he remembered how Mazares in his carrying away Mandana from Sinope, did set fire upon all the Ships in the Port, he resolved upon the like, lest he should be followed, which thing was easily done, because there was not above three or four there; and because the Port was separated from the Town which was near, and since there was not above two or three men in each of those Ships. Thus Mandana, Doralisa, and Martesia being put into the Ship, and Ariantes, Andramites, and their retinue also entered, they began to hoist sail, not tarrying for those they left in hand with the King of Assyria's men; for though Ariantes had left one of his dearest friends amongst those which fought, yet he would not hazard the loss of Mandana to preserve him, so violent was his passion. Thus parting from the Port a little after Sunset, Mandana was in as sad a condition as ever. But whilst this Princess (and with reason) was grieving, Cyrus was as sad as his sorrow was just, for after he had in vain sought Mandana, chance brought him at last unto the place from whence she was carried away: So as finding the place covered with dead and dying men, he saw Mandana's Coach, and the horses grazing loose; he saw Aglatidas wounded, as well as Araspes, and he saw the King of Assyria dead. So that not finding Mandana there, and those who fought for her liberty vanquished, his sorrow was most extreme; but it was at a higher pitch, when he understood from Aglatidas and Araspes how the case stood, and when he understood from one of Mandana's Guard, who lay wounded near the place where the King of Assyria's corpse did lie, some of that Princes dying expressions, and all that he had done for her liberty. So as this generous Rival in imitation of that compassion which they said Mandana expressed at the loss of so valiant a Prince, he also pitied the lamentable destiny of so great a King, though he had been his most mortal Enemy. But to spend no time in fruitless complaints, he commanded some of his Followers to put the corpse of this renowned Rival into Mandana's Coach, to catch the horses, and to drive to the place from whence he came, there to stay till he had resolved what Funeral Honours to do unto it. After which, visiting the wounded, to see if any could tell which way Ariantes took, the Prince Indatherses, who was with Cyrus, did know one of his Country who was of good Quality called Adonacris: So as going to him, and making himself known, they were both surprised at the sight of each other. But after the first passages of civility, Indatherses asked him such questions as Cyrus desired to be satisfied in, and he answered that he thought it in vain to follow Ariantes, for certainly he would be Shipped before any could be at the Port where he had provided a Ship, though it was not far from the place where they were. However Cyrus hasted thither after, at the request of Indatherses, he had commanded that a special care should be had of Adonacris, who as wounded as he was, had the air of a brave accomplished man, and of good quality. But as much haste as Cyrus made, it was dark when he came unto the Port from whence Ariantes departed a little after Sunset, so as he found none but those Ships which his Rival had set on fire; nor had he so much consolation as to understand which way the Ship steered which carried away his Princess, for the night being dark, one could not discover any thing towards the Sea, nor could he learn any thing from the men which had their Ships burning, for their amazement at the accident, did so wholly take up their minds, that they thought upon nothing else but quenching the fire, and never heeded which way he steered who had done them the hurt.  
Thus the illustrious Cyrus could not that day learn whether Ariantes went towards his own Country, or whether he steered toward Thrace, or towards the Meotidan Lake, or towards Colchis, so as he was in the most miserable condition in the world; for since there was no Port within a day's journey of the place where he was, he thought it in vain to send after Ariantes, since he knew not which course he steered; yet he sent Feraulas with fifty men, and commanded him to take as many Ships as he could find, and to divide his men into all the Ships, to inquire news of Ariantes, and to know into what place of the world he might go and seek Mandana. He had a mind to go himself in person, but his friends diverted him, by desiring him to consider, that since all he could do was to inquire of the place unto which Ariantes went, since he was not in a condition to assault him, he had better stay and expect intelligence, then to wander upon the Seas with so much uncertainty of the way which he took; but the greatest inducements of his stay was, because Indatherses told him that happily Adonacris knew more of Ariantes mind, than he would tell in his presence: So that Cyrus being persuaded by him, returned to the place where the King of Assyria's Corpse was carried, and whether they had also carried Adonacris after he was dressed. But in his return thither, he went through a Village where he rested himself two or three hours, and found a servant unto Andramites, who being wounded stayed there, and who knew all the secrets of his Master: So as Chrisantes knowing him very well, acquainted Cyrus with it, and told him, that happily he might get many things out of this man, if he did force him unto it; and accordingly Cyrus used prayers, menaces, and promises of recompense, if he would tell all he knew, both concerning Ariantes and Andramites: Sir (said the man again) If what I shall tell you would bring my Master under your power, though I know the design of the Prince Ariantes to be very unjust, yet I would not tell you any thing, for all your menaces or promises of recompense. But Sir, since it cannot, if you will promise me to pardon my Master hereafter, if his Passion to Doralisa engaged him in a design as unjust as that of the Prince Ariantes, upon this condition, I will tell you all the passages betwixt them.  
Since generosity appeared in the discorse of this servant, and since he asked nothing in the behalf of Ariantes, Cyrus promised what he desired upon condition he would tell him all he knew concerning the design of Ariantes, and upon condition he would tell him how he had deceived Mandana, and carried her away. Sir, (said he then after thanks for his promise) since I have been happy in the favour of my Master, and have been serviceable to him in this last business, I know all the passages which you can desire to get out of me: Therefore I shall tell you, that the Prince Ariantes having contracted an intimate friendship with Andramites, did at the last discover unto him, who he was, and how he loved and adored the Princess Mandana; also he told him how the King of Assiria was then alive, that with in three days he would meet you Sir, near the ruins of an old Castle, and that you were to fight with him; and how you gave Ariantes your orders to show unto all the Officers, in case you fell in the Combat, to the end they should obey the Princess Mandana. But Sir, After the Prine Ariantes had acquainted my Master with all these things, and told him how you had furnished him wherewith to make sure of all his companions, he expressed himself the most passionately in the world: and if I could excuse him without offending you, I would assure you that he had much ado to betray you, & that his generosity did much struggle with his passion; but in conclusion, his passion being too strong for him, he desired Andramites to assist him in his design of carrying away Mandana the same night that you were to fight with the King of Assiria: and the more to engage him in his interest, he told him that in carrying away Mandana, he would also carry away Doralisa: So that my Master who till then had resisted Ariantes design, could not now resist his own passion: for considering what a Rival he had of the Prince Myrsiles, he saw he could not pretend any thing unto Doralisa: and if she ever loved, it would be rather that Prince than himself: So that finding the design of Ariantes unjust, when his own love had no interest, it was not enough to engage him in his ininterest; but afterwards both of them thought of nothing else but how to execute it. In order unto that, I was made choice of by these two lovers to find out trusty men for so great a design, and accordingly I provided twenty Soldiers of good resolution to be added unto the Guard of the Princess. Thus Sir, carrying the matter very secretly, there was above a hundred men resolved to obey Ariantes in all things whatsoever. But the day being come, and Ariantes knowing that you were to depart an hour after the Moon was up, they resolved to delude Mandana and carry her away: To that end Ariantes went to awaken Martesia, that she might awaken the Princess, telling her that it was a business of such high and hasty concernment as would not admit of one minute's delay: Accordingly Martesia being risen and gone to awake the Princess, she caused Ariantes to enter; he addressed himself in a melancholy aspect suitable to the sad news he had to tell her, and which he would have her credit. But Sir, without any relation of what he said unto the Princess to deceive her: I shallonly tell you, how according to his resolution with my Master, he told her that the King of Assiria was alive: He told him what you promised that Prince at Sinope: And he showed her the Order which you left him to execute in case he fell in the Combat with the King of Assiria, So that the Princess seeing an Order written with your own hand Sir, and perceaving it was not to be read until after your death: she drew as sad a conclusion from it, as Ariantes wished; and she assured herself that the King of Assiria had killed you: and the more because the Prince Ariantes by the means of a witty fellow who was his servant, had caused him to get out of your Chamber that Scarf which you wore the day before, being the same (as I have heard say) which that Princess denied you in Cappadocia, and which you took from the Prince Mazares when he was almost dead by reason of the Shipwreck with the Princess: So as when she asked Ariantes how he knew you Sir, were dead? he told her that Ortalques who followed you, brought back the news, and likewise brought back the Scarf which formerly had been hers; adding that he had brought Ortalques himself unto her, had not that faithful servant been resolved to revenge your death Sir, upon the King of Assyria's second; and fight with him he was so wounded that all he was able to do was to come and advertise him of the sad accident according to the order which he received from his Master before the fight. Ariantes added further, that as wounded as he was, he would have brought him, had he not feared that if the Guards of the Castle had seen him, the accident would have been too much divulged, before she had well considered upon her own safety. After this, Mandana asked him with a sad sigh, what Ortalques had done with the Corpse of his Master? And Ariantes answered her, that the King of Assiria had made himself a party amongst the Soldiers, and would not suffer Ortalques to bring it off; but he had much ado to steal away and save himself. Therefore Madam (said he unto her) It is most expedient that you think upon the best course to secure yourself, for I must confess, that I am afraid the commands of a living and victorious King, will be more powerful, than the orders of a vanquished and dead Prince, though he were the greatest in the world. You may imagine Sir, how this news grieved the Princess Mandana: But in conclusion, after abundance of sad complaints, she told the Prince Ariantes, she desired his advice; conjuring him to make his promise good unto you Sir, and to die rather than to let her come under the King of Assyria's power. Madam (said he unto her) you need not exhort me to defend you against this Prince, for I am sufficiently resolved upon it: but the difficulty is how to do it handsomely, and not to die before you are at liberty. In the mean time, I must once again tell you, that I do not believe the Order which I have from the illustrious Cyrus, sufficient to keep the Officers and Soldiers in obedience: For Craessus and Mersyles seeing their Conqueror dead, will perhaps be glad to aid the King of Assiria in getting the Throne, to the end they may ascend their own Thrones. The Prince Artamas, as generous as he is, will perhaps cease being Tributary unto Ciaxares, unto whom he was not so obliged as unto Cyrus: The King of Hyrcania will doubtless be of the same mind: And I make a doubt whether Gobrias and Gadates will not make use of this occasion, to make the King of Assiria forget all they have done against him. To be short Madam, so many new Conquered people are apt to rebel: and I have good cause to fear that the Orders of the illustrious Cyrus will be but ill obeyed if your person be not secured before the death of the Prince be divulged.  
Mandana hearing Ariantes speak thus, and finding much probability in all he said, she told him, that her sorrows were so much above her reason, that she was not able to resolve upon any course to keep herself out of the King of Assiria's power, and desired him to tell her what she should do: Since you command me Madam (answered he) I shall tell you, that in my opinion, the best course is to depart in all haste and go unto some Port upon the Euxine Sea, which I know is not above a days journey from hence: that as soon as you are there, to provide a Ship, and make use of it if occasion be: after this, when you are out of the Assyrian Kings reach, then to send unto the Troops to come and receive your Orders; if they obey, and that the King of Assiria do not hinder them, you may then continue your voyage: and if they do not obey, the Madam you may embark presently, and secure your Person from the violence of the Assyrian King. Mandana finding all this to be full of reason, did believe him: yet she had a desire to send for Chrisantes and Aglatidas: But Ariantes telling her that they lodged far from the Castle, and their design requiring both secrecy and haste, she was contented to let them alone, though her grief was extreme; and she feared so much to fall into the King of Assyria's power, that indeed her Soul was all sorrow and fear: So that since she thought no man more fitting to trust, then him unto whom you had trusted your secrets and your honour, she submitted herself wholly unto his conduct: yet she chid him much for not acquainting her with your engagements with the King of Assiria: but to put that off, he told her, that he never knew of it until Ortalques told him, and gave him this Order which he showed her. So that the Princess resolving to follow his advice, she sent to give Orders for her departure; she did rise as fast as she could, and departed with two women only, believing that Ariantes had no further design but to secure her Person.  
But Sir, I forgot to tell you, that in case Mandana had not been willing to follow the advice of Ariantes, he had carried her away by force; and would have told her that he had Orders so to do, and to carry her unto the King her father: yet Sir, that needed not: for as I have already told you, the Princess confiding in the man whom you trusted Sir, and not suspecting that he was in love with her, she herself was accessary to her own carrying away: And the truth is, when the King of Assiria came up, she believed Cyrus to be dead, and that Ariantes under the umbrage of Anaxaris was her Protector. But I pray tell me (said Cyrus and interrupted him) what is the design of Ariantes, and whether will he carry Mandana? Sir, replied the man, if he have not changed his mind, he will land at the Port of Colchis, and keep close in that Province, until he have brought one of these two things to pass, either until he have negotiated with the Queen his Sister, or else until he have declared war; for I understood within these few days that there came a man of quality disguised unto him, who told him that his friends had raised a great Party against Thomiris, and that the state of things was so, as he was able to take the Kingdom of the Issedons from Thomiris, which he pretended that Princess unjustly detained from him.  
This Scythian who came to Ariantes (replied Indatherses and addressed his speech unto Cyrus) is certainly him, for whom I desired your protection Sir: If so, replied Cyrus, happily we may get more light from him, than yet we know. If he do know any thing (replied Indatherses) I am in good hopes he will impart it to me, for he is my very good friend, and is a little obliged to me: So as since I know him to be a most accomplished man, I have good reason to hope he will not hide what I shall desire to know, if he can impart it without betraying his friend. For Heaven's sake, said Cyrus, let me know as much as you can concerning Ariantes; I shall not fail Sir, answered this generous Scythian, for I assure you Sir, I should be as much joyed to help you in the delivery of Mandana, as I was when I had the happiness to help you out of the Massagetian Country. After this, Cyrus thanking him, and confirming the promise he made unto the servant of Andramites, he returned unto the place from whence Mandana departed; but in his way thither he met the Prince Mersiles, who with unequaled sorrow, told him thus, Sir (said he) since one that is a subject unto the King my father hath his hand in carrying away the Princess Mandana, I may perhaps seem to be accessary; But if you will be pleased Sir, to consider what he hath done against myself, doubtless you will not think me culpable: As he was saying so, Mazares overtook them, and with so much sadness in his face (as it was easy to see) that though he did not pretend any thing unto Mandana; yet he did very much interest himself in her misfortunes. And Cyrus had no sooner returned a civil answer unto the Prince Mersiles; but Mazares conjured him to tell him, whether he had heard any thing concerning Mandana? So as Cyrus esteeming him very much, and had loved him most tenderly had he never been his Rival, he gave him a most exact account of all passages; but he had no sooner done speaking, than Mazares told him that he was exceeding generous to satisfy his curiosity: For truly (said he) though I never carried away Mandana but once, yet it may very well be said, that I am accessary both unto the King of Pontus his carrying her away, and also unto this of Ariantes, since if I had never begun, they had never followed: But I assure you Sir, that I would spend both my blood and my life, to recover unto her that liberty which I caused her to lose. Alas, alas, cried Cyrus, considering what is past, what may be expected from the future: After this Cyrus began to march, and muse with himself until he met with the Prince Artamas, unto whom he related as much as he did unto Mazares: And after that he went strait into the Castle, where all Mandana's women stayed with all the Ladies of Thimiscira, who were to return the next morning, for the River which had not swelled its banks was now confined into its ordinary limits, and would let them pass. But since Arianite was of their acquaintance, she and Pherenice stayed with them, and all the rest of Mandana's women also: Cyrus desiring Amaldea to have a care of them until their Princess was at liberty; and that she would carry them unto Thimiscira, where he would give orders for all things they should need.  
In the mean time Indatherses went to visit Adonacris to scru what he could out of him, before Cyrus resolved upon any course: But whilst he was there, he did not only give orders that all honour should be given unto the King of Assiria's Corpse, as if that dead Prince were living upon his Throne: But also, that it should be carried unto the stately Tomb which the Queen Nitocris his Mother had built in Babylon. And accordingly about three days after, his Corpse was put in a Chariot covered with black cloth embroidered with Gold, the horses which drew it, in magnificent harness, and this Chariot was waited upon by two hundred men in mourning on horseback, whereof half went before it, and half behind.  
In the mean time, since it was ever the custom of Cyrus to do a hundred unnecessary things for the service of Mandana, rather than neglect the least expedient that might be serviceable; he conveyed away Spies to Colchis, where the servant of Ariantes said be would land: and he sent Ortalques secretly in a disguise to Gelonide, who had been very favourable to him when he was with Thomiris; but since it was Chrisantes who had the most commerce with her, Cyrus desired him to write unto her; and desired Aglatidas who was Nephew unto that wise Lady, to do the like, he himself intending to march slowly towards that Country, until he knew precisely where Mandana was. Whilst Cyrus was thinking upon these things, Indatherses having been to see Adonacris, and having found him in a condition to be talked with, he conjured him to tell what Ariantes his design was? I can tell you, replied Adonacris, that since I came hither, I opposed as much as I was able, the unjust design of Ariantes: And truly, generous Indatherses, I had a good mind to betray that Prince, to the end I might the better have served him; but since I was afraid to ruin him, by desiring to serve him, I durst not trust Cyrus, unto whom I had not the honour to be known; and if it had been the pleasure of the Gods, that you had been here when I came first hither, things had not now been in that lamentable condition as they are: For truly Sir, Ariantes hath lost a Kingdom, to carry away Mandana, and he choosed rather to be her Ravisher, then to be King of the Issedons: I do so little understand the meaning of all this, replied Indatherses, that I cannot give any answer unto it, for since I left Thomiris, I have been always in Greece seeking Anacharsis, who as you know is my Uncle, so as I have only a confused notion of what hath passed in both the Scithia's; and since I desired to forget the ungrateful Thomiris, I would not so much as think upon the Country where she dwelled, nor ask any news of it: 'Tis true, since I came into Asia I understood, that presently after my departure from the Massagettes, there grew a War between Arirntes and Thomiris, by reason of apretention which that Prince had unto the Crown, but I have such a confused knowledge of it, that you would do me the greatest pleasure in the world if you would be pleased to tell me, not only all you know concerning Ariantes and Thomiris, but all the adventures happened unto yourself; and if you will completely oblige me, let the illustrious Cyrus know it also: and to induce you unto it, I must assure you that it much concerns the Prince Ariantes (whom you love) you should oblige a Prince, who certainly will one day be his Conqueror. Since I have nothing to speak concerning the Prince Ariantes, which can prejudice him (replied Adonacris) but on the contrary, will rather excuse him, I will willingly satisfy your desires as far as I can: But to tell the illustrious Cyrus all that relates unto Ariantes, and all that concerns myself, will be a discourse so long, that I am afraid, considering my condition, I shall not be able to go through with it: But I have a friend which came unto me this morning, who knows all things as well as I myself, and who speaks Greek excellently well, he shall relate the matter better than I myself can.  
Indatherses seeing that indeed he was not able to speak so long together, unless he should do himself hurt, though he was indifferent well of his wounds, he accepted of his offer: So Adonacris sending for his friend, whose name was Anabaris, he presented him unto Indatherses, and telling him what office he desired from him, he prepared himself for obedience: So that Indatherses telling him, that he would first know what hour Cyrus would appoint, and then send him word, he went unto that Prince, and left those two illustrious Scythians. And Cyrus, to lose no time, desired Indatherses to bring Anabaris unto him that night: So that he sent to seek Anabaris, and presented him unto Cyrus, who after a very civil reception, desired him to satisfy his curiosity. Then Cyrus, Indatherses, and he, each of them taking their places, he began thus.  

The History of the Prince ARIANTES, of ELIBESIS, of ADONACRIS, and of NOROMANTE.  
WHen I consider Sir, by what ways the Gods do bring the strangest things to pass, and what that indissolveable Chain of small things with great ones, and great ones with small things is, I cannot choose but admire their order, and acknowledge that it is not fit for men to pry too far into their mysteries: Indeed Sir, who can imagine that the violence which the Prince Ariantes hath done unto the Princess Mandana, had its first cause in the adventures which I am now to relate unto you? And that before ever Ariantes knew her, he had done a hundred things which put a disposition into his Spirit of committing that Crime which now troubles you; yet it is most certain, that whilst you were with Thomiris, and whilst the Prince Ariantes was in the Kingdom of the Issedons with the young Prince Spargapise, there fell out such things, as would have prevented this accident if they had not been: Then Sir, I do think it pertinent to tell you, that the Father of Thomiris was not born a King, and that when he became one he was already married: Indeed Thomiris, who was his then only Daughter, was four years of age when the Prince Lypacari her Father, by his prudence & valour possessed himself of the Kingdom of Issedons, after the death of the last of their ancient Kings: So as by this means the Prince Ariantes coming into the world two years after Lypacaris, ascended the Throne, Thomiris was six years elder than the Prince Ariantes: I tell you this Sir, that you may the better understand by what right Thomiris reigns in prejudice of this Prince; for be pleased to know, that the Issedons are so persuaded that prudence cannot be found in youth, as without any difference of Sexes, they have a Law, that when their King dies, his eldest Child must reign: So as if he have a Daughter elder than a Son, the Crown is hers. Things being thus, and the Father of Thomiris dying, this young Princess, who was then fourteen years of age, was proclaimed Queen, because the Prince Ariantes was but eight: And she found her way the more easy unto it, because the Son unto the late King of the Massagettes, who was then at Issedon, and was deep in Love with that young Princess, did countenance her cause by his presence, and by his interest, that so he might unite in her person two Kingdoms under one and the same Authority: And indeed, things went as he wished, for Thomiris was declared Queen, and he married her presently after: 'Tis true, they stayed not at Issedon, which is the Metropolis of our Kingdom; because the King of the Massagettes being dead, the Prince his Son carried the Queen his Wife into his own Country, and he carried her thither in double mourning, because the Queen his Mother-in-law died also: So that this Prince carrying the young Ariantes with him, by this means he took him out of the people's sight, lest, murmuring that they had not a King resident in their own Kingdom, there should any rebellion begin under his name. In the mean time, this young Princess being the first year delivered of a Successor, the King her Husband died suddenly, and left Thomiris Queen-Regent during the minority of the young Spargapises, and left her also Queen of two Kingdoms. Though this Queen was very young, yet she reigned Sovereignly and absolutely, and in great glory, making herself so terrible unto all the Grandees and people, that there was not the least commotion in either of her Kingdoms. In the mean time, though she was born at Issedon, though that Kingdom was more civilised then the Massage●tes, though we have their goodly Towns, and though the others habitation be only in Tents, yet she preferred that warlike people before that which was more civil and polite; so as sending Lieutenants unto Issedon, she dwelled in Tents Royal. Also it was her pleasure, that the Prince Ariantes should stay with her, until the People beginning to murmur a little at the exorbitances of those she sent to govern them, and then she sent thither the young Spargapisis her Son, though he was but a child, to the end his presence might appease all tumults. But because that young Prince did love Ariantes very well, Thomiris let them both go together, which voyage continued longer than she thought of. This was the voyage Sir which those two Princes made when you were with Thomiris, during which time, all manner of diversions were invented amongst us to please the young Spargapises, and keep him amongst us, to the end we might still have him amongst us, who was to be our King. Since Issedon is a place as pleasant as any whatsoever, it was there where Spargapises and Ariantes stayed most; after they had surveighed all the Kingdom. And though Spargapises was not yet at an age to relish pleasures, yet since Ariantes was eight years elder than he, the diversions were most for him; Dance, Feasts, Balls, and other exercises of the body were for Spargapises, but walks of Gallantry, conversation of Ladies, and civil society were for the Prince Ariantes, who questionless was already one of the most pleasing Princes in the world. Thus whilst he was at Issedon, the Court was very magnificent and glorious, since all the men of Quality and wit in the Kingdom repaired thither, and so of all the Ladies, insomuch as Issedon did flourish in a high manner, at least, I am sure, that both the Scithia's were not comparable to it: Indeed we made a great difference between the Scythians and ourselves, whom we called ●arbarians: The reason why we were more civilised than they was, because we were not very far from the Euxime Sea, and were near the Caspian, whereby we had more commerce with strangers than the Scythians who lived beyond the craggy Mountains, which divide the two Scithia's. So this mixed concourse of many people which inhabit amongst us, hath sweetened the ferocity of the ancient Scythians, and hath civilised us more than the rest. Also many amongst us do hold, that we are descended from the Grecians, as well as the Callipides, which are another sort of people amongst us, who are reputed Scythians as well as we are: So that whether by my first mentioned reasons, or by our original, questionless we are more polished than our Neighbours, as I said before.  
But to ●eturn from whence I digressed, give me leave to tell you, that Adonacris being as accomplished a man as any is upon Earth, was one who had a great share in the friendship of these two Princes, especially with Ariantes: and certainly Sir, he was loved with abundance of reason, for it was a most difficult thing to find out a man of so amiable a composure as he. For he was not only handsome, and of great courage and wit; but he was one that loved his friend as well as any man living: And he had such an Air and Garb of the world, as he did infinitely please at the very first sight, and therefore it is no wonder if he pleased the Prince Ariantes. But Sir, as Adonacris pleased this Prince, so he had a Sister called Elybessis, who better pleased him; and Ariantes was so taken with the beauty of this Lady, as I cannot imagine how it is possible such a violent passion should cease, and make room for any other in his heart, whomsoever it was. But Sir, before I make any description of the beginning, continuance and ending of this love, I must acquaint you, how before the Prince Ariantes came unto Issedon, there was a man of quality in that town called Agatherses, who was deeply in love with Elybessis, and who was so happy as not to be ill in her opinion: So as it may be said, that Ariantes assaulted a place which was already rendered, when he attempted to move the heart of Elybessis: But since that passion was kept close, this Prince did not at the first know, how she whom he loved was engaged.  
In the mean time, Agatherses did carry it so as it must quickly be known whether he loved or no; for he was of a hot and passionate temper, his desires were so many violences, as magnificent in all things as is imaginable; and exceedingly handsome in his clothes. He was well proportioned, brown hair, eyes quick and lively: and his face did so show the thoughts of his Soul, as it was easy to know by the sight of him only, that he had a great and fiery heart, much above his quality. But that you perfectly know this Rival of Ariantes, let me tell you that he had a most excellent wit, and a quick fancy, full of delectable raptures, which makes conversation pleasant. The truth is, there was a kind of inequality in his humour; for he would be sometimes so unlike himself, that he would not speak for a whole day together, and sometimes again, he would do nothing but talk; yet it must be confessed, that this inequality was most caused by some men which did not alike please him, and sometimes also it was a pure effect of his humour and temper. However, it may be said of him, that he was sometimes merry, sometimes sad, sometimes complaisant, & sometimes all contradiction; but let me say thus much of him, in what humour soever he was, he was always generous, no man in the world being more officious than he: for truly though he loved pleasures with extreme eagerness, yet he would quit them all with joy to do any good office, not only unto his intimate friends, but unto any of any virtue whatsoever. Moreover as music is natural unto all men; so I think it may be said of Poesy; and that there is no people in the world which use not an even measure of words, which sweetly take the ear, and gives an ornament unto their thoughts who write in verse.  
As the Scythians, expressly the Issedons' use a kind of Poesy not unpleasing unto those who understood our language: So I dare assure you Sir, that if you saw the verses of Agatherses and could understand them, you would admire the sublimity of a Scythians Genius. Moreover, when he is in a good humour, his mirth hath such a kind of surprising impetuosity to it, as doth exceedingly divert, and makes him very pleasing: 'Tis true, our Ladies do a little quarrel with him, for not being respective enough towards the Gods: For the truth is, if any occasion present itself, he will mock at Vesta, which we call Tabiti; at Jupiter and his Eagle; at Vulian and his Forge; at Neptune and his Trident; at Hercules and his Club: at Mars and his Paramours, and so at all the rest of our Divinities which we and the people adore: Not but that I think he believes all that we do; but since almost all Religions are established upon things which are not of common resemblance, Agatherses had got such a habit of Raillarie which our Ladies can hardly brook. Moreover he made such an open profession of absolute independency, that it was easy to see that he could not subject himself unto any thing but his own will, unless in being amorous: But to make a short definition of him, Agatherses was excellently accomplished; and deserved a most rare Character: This is he Sir, who was loved by Elybessis, before Ariantes was Captivated with her. As for the Lady, it is a piece of extreme difficulty to make an exact description of her humour and spirit. Therefore after I have told you, that she is full, of a tall and handsome stature; that she is pale, brown hair, fair eyes, and that the Air of her countenance is noble, languishing and pleasing: I shall only tell you, that she is as full of wit as ambition, though high in both: And though they say, one cannot have two violent passions at once, yet she was in love with Agatherses, though she had a most ambitious soul. After this Sir, you may easily conceive, that Ariantes was neither well nor ill received by Elibesis, when he made his love known unto her, for her engagements unto Agatherses, was the reason she could not well receive him; also the ambitious inclination of her soul would not let her treat a man of Ariantes quality ill: So as taking the Medium, it may be said, that she was neither sweet nor sharp unto that Prince.  
But Sir, before I engage myself any further in the sequel of this history, give me leave to tell you, that whilst the eyes of all the Court were upon Ariantes and Elibesis, Adonacris began to fall in love with a Lady of eminent quality, named Noromanta, who was come unto Issedon with her Father upon some important business, but he began, and none perceived it, and carried it so cunningly; also there was such conformity of humour between them both, as there was scarce any need to tell each other that they were in Love; yet Noromanta was as reserved in all things, as any woman in the world: And to interest you Sir in her fortune, I beseech you give me leave to represent her unto you as then she was, and as now she is. Imagine her Sir, a great woman, of an advantageous stature, but I mean handsome and noble, of a high and modest air, her complexion white, fresh and lovely, her eyes black, sparkling, and sweet, her face round, her mouth well made, her neck full and plump, her garb haughty without any ranting. Moreover, her wit was proportionable to her beauty, she speaks well, and persuades with so sweet an eloquence, as one has no power to deny. She seems to be all goodness, all sweetness, all civility, and all sincerity; and though her enemies do make a question of this last quality in point of friendship, yet they all agree, that though she be not so sincere as she seems, yet it is more pleasing to be deceived by her, then to be faithfully loved by many others; but to speak truly, I am fully persuaded, that Noromanta is only so, to keep herself from being deceived, for I hold her one of the best and most sincere women in the world unto those whom she really loves. Moreover, she hath all requisite qualities possible to imprint a respect in those who come unto her, and I do wonder how Adonacris durst tell her that he was in love with her, but chance helped on his boldness in the discovery of his passion, and I do believe, that if Ariantes had not been in love with Elibesis, Adonacris durst never have told Noromanta, that he loved her: And indeed it was a long time that Adonacris had desperately loved Noromanta, and spoke not a word of it unto her; but this Beauty talking one day unto him when he came to visit her, she told him most sweetly, how all the Beauties in Issedon envied Elibesis his Sister, for captivating the heart of Ariantes, for the very truth was, they were all exceedingly nettled at it: For my part (said she, after she had with much eloquence aggravated all the symptoms of envy which she had observed in the minds of all our Ladies) I do not know any greater imbecility in the world, then to be vexed at any such thing; for if she who is preferred before all the rest has more merit than they have, it is extreme injustice to murmur at it; and if the man who gives the precedency does make an ill choice, it were neither glorious nor reasonable to trouble one's self for not getting the esteem of a man, who knows not how to make a good choice; and in my opinion, Love is not always a convincing argument of extraordinary merit in those who cause it, since certainly it is more an effect of inclination, than reason: It is most certain, replied Adonacris, That reason alone never causes love, but withal, I am persuaded, that the love which reason doth authorise, is a thousand times more strong, then that which reason doth resist; and that whosoever loves forcibly, must be able to tell himself, that there is no Civil War betwixt his heart and his reason: I know very well (answered Noromanta) that love would be more strong, if it have reason for a Pillar, but I do believe that doth not often fall out: I cannot tell whether or no it often fall out (replied Adonacris) but I am sure it happens sometimes, and happened unto a man whom you do know: Then certainly (replied she) it is the Prince Ariantes, who indeed hath all the reason in the world to love her whom he adores: No, no, answered Adonacris, for though there were nothing but the inequality of Birth betwixt that Prince, and her he loves, Ariantes had reason enough to oppose his passion: But amiable Noromanta (said he unto her) I intent to trust you with a secret, and to tell you, that it is myself of whom I speak; of myself, I say, who before ever I was in love, had ever in my fancy an Idea of her whom I desired should captivate me, and indeed this Image was so imprinted in my mind, that I went unto no place, but I sought whether I could find her out, of whom my reason had form an Idea. Oh Adonacris (said Noromanta craftily, and suspected something of his passion) I suppose that Idea is very fair: For my part, I fancy the most admirable piece that ever was seen; for I am confident, that in forming the beauty of her whom you would love, you would have her hair the fairest in the world, grey eyes, a pleasant air, and I do imagine, you may seek her in all places, but find her no where. Pardon me amiable Noromanta (said he unto her) if I contradict you in all: For first; I shall never affect a Flaxen Beauty, nor have I been so unfortunate as you think: For truly (pursued he and smiled) after I had fancied an Idea of the rarest Beauty in the world, a brown Beauty, and after I had in vain sought her in more Kingdoms than one, I found her the very same day you came unto Issedon, and directly then, when I had the honour to see you the first time: Certainly your memory fails you, (replied Noromanta and blushed) for I do remember very well, that the first time I had the honour to see you, I was alone in my Chamber, when Agatherses brought you thither: I do very well remember it also, (replied Adonacris and smiled) but that is not incongruent with what I told you: For since I must tell you more plainly, it was in your eyes I found that fire which I was in quest of to burn myself, and it was in your fair person in whom I found that perfect Beauty, which I shall never find any where else: I must confess (replied Noromanta) that your language doth surprise me, for either I do not know the world, or if I should believe you, I must answer you as a man who speaks with too much boldness; therefore the best course, both for you and myself is, not to believe you: But by way of your excuse, to think that you are of their opinion, who think they never ought to be alone with a Lady, (unless old) without expressions of such pieces of Gallantry, as will equally suit, either with the fair or the brown Beauties, either with the great or the little, and talk only with lips, and without consent either of heart or thought. Oh Madam (said Adonacris, and interrupted her) my language is not of that nature, and it cannot suit with any but you only. Moreover, I do protest, that my heart makes good all that my tongue speaks, and if I can be accused of any thing, it is because I dare not fully discover the greatness of my affection to you: You have told me so much already, replied she, that I assure you I think it too much, for as much as I esteem you, I must curb my inclination of treating you as one of my dearest friends; I must, I say, eat your company, set a Watch upon my words and looks, and indeed I must so far overcome myself, as (I fear) to hate you.  
As Noromanta said so, the Prince Ariantes entered, and did lead Elibesis, so that further discourse was broken off, whereof both of them were very glad, for Adonacris feared lest Noromanta should treat him ill; and certainly Noromanta was not angry that she had no time to do it. But Ariantes and Elibesis were no sooner entered, than Agatherses followed them, who observing that Elibesis did not avoid the conversation of Ariantes, was not very well pleased with her, but was very melancholy all that day, and it was such a kind of melancholy, as rather resembled anger then sorrow, for either he spoke not at all, or if he did say any thing, it was in two words, and those contradictory. Moreover, one might perceive by his looks, that the vexation of his heart would not permit him to speak all he thought. I who came in with the Prince Ariantes, did never in my life see a man whose eyes did better speak the thoughts of his soul, than his: Elibesis also saw it very well. As for Ariantes, he was so taken up with looking upon her he loved, that he never regarded Agatherses; and to augment his grief, the young Spargapises entered, who not knowing well what to say unto Ladies, began discourse with him in particular as soon as he came in: But since Agatherses was both witty and bold, he did not long endure this torment: Therefore inventing upon a sudden some kind of pleasant story or other, which he made a great secret of unto this young Prince, and which he thought would fill him full of curiosity, he told him, that Elibesis did know the whole business, and that if he would be pleased to ask it of her in a low voice, so that the Prince Ariantes did not hear him, doubtless she would tell it unto him: But Sir, added he, you must press her unto it very urgently and long, for I know her humour to be such, that she will never impart what she knows, until after an hundred entreaties: Nay if that be all (answered the young Spargapises innocently) I will put her to a thousand entreaties, and will not leave her all this day, until she tell it unto me: And accordingly, he went presently to Elibesis, and set himself down by her. Since Ariantes was full of respect unto Spargapises, he withdrew, and gave him the freedom of talk with her.  
Thus Agatherses parted him and Elibesis, he not knowing the cause. But the best of the story is, Elibe●●s knew not in all the world what this young Prince meant, and protested unto him, that she understood him not. But since Agatherses had told him, that she would not impart under a hundred entreaties, the more importunate was this young Prince with her, by how much she said she was ignorant.  
But at the last, she denied him so earnestly, that he believed her, and tormented her no longer: yet notwithstanding since Agatherses had so confidently assured him that she did know it, he said aloud, that Elibesis had so assured him of her ignorance that he believed it was he which was mistaken. I do protest unto you Sir, (replied Agatherses boldly) That there is no person upon earth which knows what you desire to know, if Elibesis do not: And indeed he lied not, for since it was a thing of his own invention, none could know it.  
In the mean time, he rallied out the matter so well, that his design of separating Ariantes from Elibesis did take effect: for he did so cunningly engage the young Spargapises to be urgent with Elibesis, that his importunity lasted all the day, which he thought to be well spent since he had interrupted his rival. But that which gave him most satisfaction was, that in the conclusion of Spargapises obstinate curiosity, he observed that Elibesis began to suspect his fallacy, so as he went away less vexed than he was at the beginning of the conversation: And yet he did not think himself fully satisfied, until he had private audience from Elibesis, to tell her of her new Conquest: Therefore the next morning he went unto her so early, that she was not dressed when he entered into her Chamber: And finding her in consultation with her Mirror, he asked pardon for his abrupt entrance; but he asked it in a manner so little submissive, that Elibesis knew he was vexed in mind: therefore ordering the curls of hair more negligently on that side than the other which was dressed, to the end her women might retire, she endeavoured to appease Agatherses if she could: But those who dressed her were no sooner at the other end of the Chamber, than Agatherses with a kind of tanting Raillery, and a malicious smile, told her that the Prince Ariantes was very happy by his coming to see her: For Madam, (said he unto her) if you had continued dressing yourself with the same care you began when I entered, he would have found you so fair, that he would have died with love, before you could have had leisure to have compassion upon him. In telling me (replied she and blushed for anger) that the Prince Ariantes had found me fair if he had seen me as I should have been if you had not come; you tacitly imply, that you do not think me fair as I am; but whether it be, that I am not very jealous of my beauty, or that I do not think it depends upon two or three negligent curls: if you did think to anger me, you are extremely mistaken. If you should be in earnest Madam (answered Agatherses sharply) I should be very sorry; for Madam, you are so careful to displease others, that I think it is permittable to wish sometimes your care less. I pray Agatherses (said Elibesis) without any more exercising your wit in tanting terms, tell me what it is you complain of? I complain Madam, (replied he, since you are pleased I should tell you) because High Quality dazzles your eyes; and because you think I ought rather to suffer the Prince Ariantes to love you, than a man of my condition: Yet Madam, I must tell you, that in cases of Rivals, quality is nothing; slaves and Kings are all one: In all other things, I do respect Kings and Princes as much as becomes my duty; but in matters of love, I protest Madam, that I do not value their quality: and though you make a great difference between Ariantes and others, yet I shall not; but shall look upon him as my Rival without any consideration of Spargapises uncle, or Thomiris brother. And to the end you may not doubt of what I say (Pursued he with extreme violence) I swear unto you by Vesta, by Hercules, by Mars, by Venus, by Neptune, and by all the gods which we adore, that I will be as good as my word: Since it is allowable to correct ones first thoughts upon some occasions, replied Elibesis, I hope that when your anger is over, you will alter your mind: Nay Madam, as for that, replied he, I shall change; and therefore you may build upon what I say, for really I cannot endure you should be capable of any such imbecility. I do protest unto you Sir, (said she then unto him) that you have no reason in the earth to complain: and if you would have me discover my heart unto you, I will ingeniously confess that its true, Ambition is the predominate Passion of my Soul; and that the only reason of my-slight complacency unto the Prince Ariantes, is, because I know that I do thereby vex all the beauties of Issedon, by possessing that Prince so much that he never speaks unto them.  
I know very well Madam, replied he, that you do vex them, in causing the Prince Ariantes never to speak unto them: but you may know withal, that you vex me extremely, by perpetual talking with him. Since he is not to stay here, replied she, me thinks it need not trouble you so much: and truly how do you think I can be uncivil unto a man of his Quality? Oh Madam, cried he out, it is not Quality that justifies a Rival; for I have already told you, and do tell you again, that Quality is no reasonable cause of Inconstancy: And as for Ambition Madam, believe it Madam, that there is more glory in slighting a Prince then in treating him favourably.  
Moreover, how can I assure myself of your mind, and how can the Prince Ariantes assure himself, if you should quit me for him? For truly he is a Prince without a Principality, and there are a thousand in the world whom you would prefer before him, if you had the fortune to know them: and if chance should so bring it about that Spargapises should fall in love with you; you will quit Ariantes who is never to be a King, for Spargapises who ere long is to have a Kingdom: Also if the same fortune (pursued he in a scoffing Raillery) should let you see either the King of Phrigia, the King of Medes, or the King of Hyrcania, you would for any of them quit the King of the Issedons, and so passing from King to King, if Jupiter should take a fancy to prostitute one of the gods at your feet, or to come upon his Eagle to do you homage, you would then be unfaithful unto all terrestrial Kings, to entertain the least of the gods: Oh I beseech you Agatherses (said she unto him) do not use such reverend names to show the folly of your mind, if you would have me to appease you: I care not for appearing, (said he unto her) but I would either justify you, or else make you repent of the injustice you have done me. If I have failed I will repent, said she unto him, but since I have not, I must needs protest that you are very injurious to complain: That the Prince Ariantes did never dispossess you of that place which you had in my heart: And that unless he were able to make me à Queen, I will never be more unto him than I am. I pray judge then whether a Prince without a Principality (as you say) be able to give me a Crown. Since in all likelihood (replied he and smiled) Fortune will never do Justice unto your merit, nor find you a King to set you upon a Throne; me thinks you might very well speak more obligingly unto me than you have done, and to tell me, that though Fortune would make you a Queen, and that a great one, yet you would not make me the most miserable man upon earth. But however, since you assure me that none under the degree of a King, shall ever supplant me in your opinion, my soul will be at some rest. I will promise you as much, replied she, upon condition you will not move me to alter my way of living with Ariantes whilst he stays here. For I must profess unto you, that I cannot endure the reports of such as envy me, who doubtless will say, that I would never have changed my way of living with the Prince Ariantes but for the love of you, moreover it will much concern your interest and fortune: Alas Madam, replied he, as for my fortune it is not a reason to be alleged unto me: for I think upon nothing but preserving you: No, no, Madam, deceive not yourself, that is not the way to bring me unto your opinion; and therefore be confident, that as long as it concerns only my Fortune, I will with abundance of joy sacrifice it all, to have so much satisfaction as to see you treat the Prince Ariantes sharply: But still I must confess, that if it reflect upon your honour, I will have as great a care of it as yourself, and therefore I do consent you should be something civil towards that Prince; Provided Madam, you have a little care of comforting me in this despair that I am in, and provided you do multiply your goodness towards me: for if you do not, I shall lose all my patience, and be forced to do such things as will displease both you and myself when I have done them. Think upon it therefore Madam, and consider what it is to incense a Lover who hath a soul both high and sensible, and who in the very centre of his heart prefers none before him, but such as have more virtue and merit than himself.  
The truth is, Madam, (pursued he vehemently) if you seriously consider it you will find, that quality doth not infuse any wit into the words of him who speaks; nor altars his sense, nor doth at all contribute unto discourse: Therefore you need not wonder I should take it ill that you should be perfidious unto me for Ariantes his sake, though a Prince, more than if he were my equal. After this, the violence of his mind being by degrees cooled, he began to talk most submissively unto Elibesis; and was so full of his passionate expressions, as in the end he permitted her to continue her complacency unto Ariantes, as she had begun, whilst he stayed at Issedon, which he thought would not be long: so that they parted very good friends; yet they continued not long so, for I do not think one day passed without a squabble and a reconcilement.  
In the mean time, Ariantes being still more and more in the fetters of love, and not being satisfied with the bare civility of Elibesis, he resolved to tell her his mind: But since her resolution was to cast him off, and to engage no further with him; he shunned being alone with him; but still continued her complaisancy: so as by this means, she satisfied Agatherses, and arrived at her proposed end, which was, to keep this Prince still in love with her as long as he stayed at Issedon, only by being complacential and civil. Thus as great a desire as Ariantes had to express the thoughts of his Soul, he found it a hard matter to do: and the harder, because Elibesis had a friend called Argyrispe whom she entreated never to be out of her presence as long as the Prince Ariantes was at Issedon: So that these two Ladies being continually together, this lover could not meet with his desired opportunity. Again, since love cannot long lie hidden, he came to know that Elibesis did not hate Agatherses, but this in lieu of diminishing his passion, did augment it: and it grew to that height that he was capable of any undertaking to satisfy it. Also he did so vigilantly watch his opportunity of talking in private with Elibesis, that he found it maugre her intentions a few days after he sought it: I understood since from herself, that this Prince did express himself as passionately as ever lover did: For after he had aggravated the Grandeur of his affection, he let her know how he was not ignorant of that esteem she had of Agatherses: And afterwards he took an odd course of obliging her to prefer him before that Lover. Moreover, Madam, said he unto her (after much of her discourse) do not think I will blame you for the esteem you have of Agatherses, and for preferring him before all others: For truly it was your choice before I had the honour to be known unto you, and Agatherses is a most perfectly accomplished man: so I cannot condemn what you have done for him before I knew you, and before I loved you: And to show you that I am just, I do not blame Agatherses for continuing his affection, though he do know I love you, because I know very well that you have not forbidden him. But Madam, as I am just both unto you, and Agatherses, so I expect you should be just unto me, and that you will be pleased to take so much pains as to examine both my passion and his, to the end, that without any consideration of our conditions and qualities, you may choose him who loves you best. But I beseech you examine the business very carefully; ask both him and me the most difficult proofs of our loves: And if you find that there is a greater difference between his Passion and mine, than there is between my birth and his, I consent you should believe I do not love you, and that you should hate me. Sir, replied Elibesis, I will not say that there is no intimate affection from Agatherses to me or from me to him: for the honour you have done me merits more sincerity from me than so: but I must tell you that though I should do as you desire, and should find that you love me more than Agatherses doth, yet I ought not to cast him off: For truly Sir, our qualities are alike, and it hath pleased Fortune to put me much below you: so as since I cannot imagine there should be any innocent affection between two of unequal qualities: doubtless to follow the rules of reason, I ought to be just unto your merit, and not suffer myself to be dazzled with the glory of captivating such a heart as yours. Truly Madam, replied Ariantes, you cannot in more civil terms tell me, that you will not cast off Agatherses; but know (too charming Elibesis) there are no words which can make me receive so cruel an answer without abundance of grief and anger: Eloquence may indeed sweeten the harshest news, and sometimes it is used in telling the deaths of dearest friends: but when it is employed to take hopes out of a lover's heart it is too too weak to do it without abundance of sorrow.  
But that you may assure yourself it is impossible for me to lose my hopes, I declare unto you, that I will never do it: For I find such an absolute impossibility of living without hopes of your love that my very reason tells me, I must keep it alive in my heart. Since so Sir, (replied Elibesis and smiled) It is in vain to wish you would despair, and therefore I conceive it better to give you the liberty of believing as you please, provided I may keep to myself the same liberty of doing what I ought, and what I would. If you do what you ought Madam, replied Ariantes, you will do nothing against me: For truly though it were so that you gave Agatherses some hopes of happiness, it was in a time when his happiness would not have been my misery: But now when his happiness will be my death, you ought not to desire it, nor I consent unto it: Therefore Madam, I beseech you consider seriously what you resolve upon: Moreover I am so well acquainted with your inclinations that I know ambition is the predominate Passion of your soul: So as if the poor merits of my person do not move you, yet I beseech you let my quality find acceptance and make amends: and let Agatherses pay more respects unto Elibesis as a Princess than he can do, as her Lover.  
Sir, (replied she much perplexed) your language is the most obliging in the world, and hath a most sensible operation, both upon my heart and my spirits: But since I must not dissemble with you Sir, I must tell you Sir, I have already told Agatherses, I will never cast him off, unless it be to be a Queen. Therefore Sir, since I am not your Subject; since you have no absolute command over me; and since I have promised unto him eternal affection, I beseech you be so good as to let me live in quietness. If you Madam would let me live in quietness (replied he after he had studied a while) certainly I shall let you: but since you will not, take it not ill, I beseech you if I let not you: but I conjure you Madam, to promise me two things: The first is, that you will not marry Agatherses within the compass of one year: The second, that if in the mean time a King do come and prostrate a Crown at your feet you will accept of it and cast off Agatherses: Alas Sir, (replied Elybessis, and laughed) How can I give any answer unto such an impossible supposition? For truly I do not frequent the Court of any strange King: Long live Thomiris our Queen; and Spargapises is so young that I shall be old before she know how to love, and therefore I profess I know not how to answer you.  
Since the thing is so far from possibility, replied Ariantes, there can be no danger in answering it, since it is not like to happen. Truly Sir, replied she, I think you are in the right: Therefore Sir, I will tell you, that as to the first of your things whereof you speak, Agatherses cannot think of marrying me within the time you have prescribed, because both his affairs and mine will not permit it: And as for the other, I tell you again, since you will have me; That if a King do come and offer me a Crown, and Agatherses do not advice me to accept, than I think I shall, because I should then think he did not love me, and consequently might break off with him. And for my part (said Ariantes and interrupted her) I conceive that if he should advise you to accept of it, you would have good cause to accuse him for want of love; and therefore whether he advise you or not, still ye ought to prefer a King before a Subject, and rather choose to be a Queen than the Mistress of Agatherses. Seriously, Sir, (said Elibesis then) you swell my joys to hear you talk thus; and truly I cannot be better pleased, then to know that all you have said are but flashes of pleasant wit: Time Madam will show that, replied Ariantes, in the mean time remember you have promised me not to marry Agatherses within one year; and that if in this time, a King comes and begs of you upon his knees to be a Queen, you will accept of the Crown he offers you; These are very easy to be promised, replied Elibesis and laughed: for truly Sir, I have no desire to marry any whosoever: and I am, and ever shall as long as I live be desirous of being a Queen, as far as I may desire it without folly. After this much company coming in, the discourse changed, and Elibesis was put into a notable dilemma: for the Prince Ariantes was so full of tender expressions in the beginning of their discourse, and afterwards told such things so improbable, that sometimes she feared he mocked her. But otherwise she had so good an opinion of his merit, that she hath since said; she had more reason to belive that the violence of Ariantes love unto her caused him to tell her of such improbabilities, then to think he spoke not seriously when he said he loved her: However it be, she spoke not a word unto Agatherses of all that the Prince Ariantes had said unto her: for though she did not see any possibility in the proposition which he made her; yet since she did not desire to lose this Prince, though she intended to keep Agatherses, she would not acquaint him with the conference.  
But Sir, to the end you may not wonder as well as Elibesis, why Ariantes should speak as he did; be pleased to know, that an Issedonian of great quality had been with Ariantes that morning, and persuaded him to think of making himself King, and also offered him the means how to bring it to pass. At first, the proposition seemed unto the Prince not only as unjust, but as impossible. Yet since he would not reject the motion without more serious consideration, he pressed the man who spoke unto him, whose name was Octomasades, to tell him upon what motives he grounded so great a design. Sir, (replied he, as I understood from himself) I first ground it upon Justice, and secondly upon your courage: and upon the earnest desire of the people to have a King who will stay in Issedon. For Sir, the Law by which Thomiris reigns to your prejudice, is, that the eldest son or the eldest daughter unto the King of the Issedons, aught to succeed in the Throne: since so, said Ariantes the reign of Thomiris is just, for she is six years elder than I. No Sir, replied Octomasades, and thus I will make it good: The Law of the Kingdom says, that the eldest child of the King of Issedon shall reign: Now when Thomiris was born the Prince Lypacaris your father and 〈◊〉 was not King, and in all likelihood was never like to be; so as she cannot truly be called the eldest daughter unto the King of the Issedons, since when she came into the world her Father was not King: So Sir, since you were born two years after Lypacaris wore the Crown, it is you Sir who are the Kings right born, though he had a Daughter before; and to speak equitably, Thomiris is Daughter unto the Prince Lipacaris, and you are Son unto the King of Issedons. After this Sir, I think you need not doubt the Justice of your Title and Right, or at the least of a very plausible pretence. Moreover, all the people do exceedingly murmur at the remoteness of that Princess who prefers her Tents before our stately Towns, insomuch, as I am very confident, that if you will please to think of ascending the Throne, you may do it with much ease, I will offer my life and fortunes in your service, and also engage all my friends, which are no small number.  
Airantes' hearing Octomasades speak thus, stood pausing a while, and returned no answer: But since he had a very generous soul naturally, until love did alter his inclination, he harkened unto what Octomasades said, rather as a subtlety to make him revolt from Thomiris, then as a real reason to pretend unto the Crown which she possessed: So not accepting his offer, he only thanked him for his zeal which he expressed unto him. But Sir, by this which I shall now tell you, you may admire the omnipotence of Love. Ariantes who harkened unto Octomasades, as I told you, did change his mind whilst he was talking with Elib sis, for having discovered the unlimitable ambition of her soul, he resolved to attempt that out of love, which he refused out of ambition; so as it may very well be said, that his desire of reigning only in the heart of Elibesis, moved him unto a desire of reigning over the Issedons: And indeed this was the only reason of his Speech unto Elibesis, when he engaged her to promise not to marry Agatherses within one year, and to accept of a Crown if it were offered her, imagining that within the compass of this time, his enterprise might either be executed or frustrated: But Sir, it was more than a light thought which love inspired into him, for it was a design fully resolved upon, and a design which he began to set on foot immediately, in order to which, he sent for Octomasades, and that reason which before he harkened unto as a subtlety, appeared now unto him the justest title in the world: So that conferring with him, they concluded upon the matter, and resolved that Ariantes should upon some pretence let Spargapises return, whensoever Thomiris should call him home; that in the mean time Ariantes should make as many friends as he could, that Octomasades should labour all his, that the people should be diverted with public Feasts, and to have men about him, who know how to insinuate thoughts fit for the execution of so great a design: Furthermore, they framed a Declaration, to manifest, that the War which Ariantes undertook, was just, and their main drift was to make themselves masters of Issedon. But whilst Ariantes was busied in satisfying his Love by his ambition, Adonacris, who had only the thoughts of love upon his soul, did every day by degrees unperceivedly get new esteem in the heart of the fair and charming Noromanta; and as those who have only one design in hand, do execute it better than those who have many several things in hand; so therefore, Adonacris having no other design, then to get the love of Noromanta, it is no wonder if he did in a short time effectuate it, for truly he was infinitely officious, and he was so assiduous in his visits, that he saw her at all hours when decency would permit. Noromanta on her side, having a violent inclination towards Adonacris, did but faintly resist him, and did insensibly suffer her heart to be engaged in an affection which she durst not call love, lest she should be obliged to resist and overcome it. 'Tis true, this Love had all the purity in it that was possible, nor do I think any passion in the world could be more refined, or more virtuous than theirs: Nor would Noromanta accustom Adonacris to talk to her of his love, though she was very willing he should love her, and give her a thousand expressions of it, but her modesty was so scrupulous, that she would not let him know her mind.  
However since she knew her father did not love to live at Issedon, she could not hope that though Adonacris should ask his consent, yet he would never grant it: And Adonacris who had a father of an imperious and fantastical humour, he knew not how to make any such proposition unto him as a marriage with Noromata; who though of a very noble family, yet she was not rich enough for him. However, though neither of them could see any hopes of living together, yet they loved each other, and loved without telling each other of it. But yet Adonacris was not very obedient; but he complained of that which he was forbidden to complain: And the fair Noromanta, for all her demure carriage of the matter did sometimes let Adonacris see the thoughts of her soul in her eyes. So that whilst Ariantes had a heart that was ravelled both with love and ambition; whilst the heart of Agatherses was swelled with jealousy, and whilst Elibesis knew not well which she should choose, and which refuse: Adonacris and Noromata did live lives as sweet as almost possible; for they equally loved each other: and they loved without being known unto any, and they saw one another every day: Yet love being a wondrous unquiet and restless passion, which will never let a heart be at rest, Adonacris had many hours of sorrow and melahcholy: And truly when he considered that as well as his dear Noromata loved him, perhaps he should never arrive at his full desired happiness, the very apprehension of the future, made him think the present very miserable: But for all that though his fears of an uncertain misery, did sometimes grieve him, yet since he enjoyed the esteem of Noromata, he was comforted and cheered up his hopes: So that these two persons having nothing in their Souls to conceal from each other, did make such a sweet and innocent exchange of secrets, and such an agreeable and sincere communication of thoughts, that their hearts were more united then ever. Adonacris obtained so much favour, as to write sometimes unto her: not but that he saw her every day; but since it often fell out that much company was with her, he desired so much liberty as to tell her that by letter, which he would not tell her before the world: And since it is more civil for a modest person to read a letter of tenderness, then to hear it, Adonacris did write such passionate passages unto Noromata, that she had no mind to understand them: Also she would sometimes answer him, otherwise than she durst tell him, with tongue. But though Adonacris and Noromata did enjoy much tranquillity; yet it was not so with Agatherses and Elibesis: For though this lover did suffer her to continue her civilities unto Ariantes whilst he stayed at Issedon; yet he could not endure it, and sometimes did forget both his promise unto Elibesis, and his respects unto Ariantes.  
In the mean time Spargapises being neither in love, nor was ambitious, he employed his times in such things as Princes of his age use to delight in: And whilst Ariantes was plotting to disthrone him, to the end he might take the heart of Elibesis from Agatherses: poor Spargapises was delighting himself in his pleasures. Things standing upon these terms, it was known in Issedon, that you Sir, was with Thomiris,, and also all your adventures: So that Octomasades Sir, closing with an occasion which was so favourable unto his design, did cunningly publish to the people, the Queen's passionate doting upon you, how she would arrest you, and how you got out of her power, by the means of the prince Indatherses, adding many things more than truth, purposely to take off that esteem which the people had of her; for he knew very well there was no better way to make them revolt, then to take away that respect which they had unto that Princess. And indeed, the design of Octomasades did take effect: for assoon as the people knew all passages in the Tents Royal, they murmured from murmur, they began to be insolently high: and from insolency they fell to flat sedition: so as things did grow up to the highest pitch of disorder: And Sir, you must know that Octomasades did not do all this out of any affection unto Ariantes, nor out of any hatred unto Thomiris; but only out of his own particular ambition. But he carried the matter so that in a short time he gained all the Grandees in the State, he changed or divided all the people's hearts: and he knew so well how to make use both of his friends and enemies, that all was in a flame, and all without any danger to him: For Thomiris was so drowned in her sorrows for your departure Sir, that she cared not a straw what became of her Dominions. Yet before the business came to execution, Octomasades thought it expedient to tarry till Thomiris called home Spargapises: And indeed the wise Terez, whom you saw with that Princess, moving her to send for the Prince her son and Ariantes, Spargapises obeyed, and Ariantes stayed at Issedon, under pretence of being sick, and assuring the young Prince his Nephew, that he would shortly follow him. But Sir, he was no sooner gone, than Ariantes did set his design on foot: And Octomasades having cajoled with the town, and all his friends were persuaded that if Ariantes were once King, it would be Octomasades that would Reign under his name. And the people were so incensed, and so apt for sedition, as it was very easy to move them against him whom the Princess had trusted with her Authority; also to drive him out of the Town, and make the Prince Ariantes master of it. And indeed, since he had no Army which could come up time enough to appease this disorder: Octomasades did happily execute his design of feising upon Issedon, and began war in the very heart of the Kingdom. I shall not Sir, insist upon any particulat relation of the whole business; for I have so many other passages less tedious to tell you, that I will only in two words tell you, that the people by the Artefice of Octomasades, did rebel: some said according as they were inspired, that Ariantes was their legitimate King, and that Thomiris did but usurp the Kingdom of Issedons from him: others did second them, and all proclaimed Ariantes King, who took up arms and drove the Lieutenant of Thomiris out of the Kingdom, and secured all the strong places of the Town: And all this in so short a time, that it had been done without any resistance, if Agatherses had not been a rub unto his design: But Sir, since the passages were extraordinary, I beseech you give me leave to insist a little longer upon them. Be pleased to know therefore Sir, that Agatherses whose mind was inflamed with love and jealousy, he visited Elibesis as much as he could; not only because he was pleased with the sight of her, but because he would hinder Ariantes from all private discourse: so as when this great tumult was in Issedon, Agatherses was with Elibesis, who lodged far from that part of the town where the sedition began; in so much as Ariantes was master of a great part of the Town before they knew it. But at last, the disorder was so great and universal, that the noise of it reached their ears, and interrupted Agatherses, who was discoursing with Elibesis, both concerning his love and his jealousy: As they were much surprised at so great a noise, and full of curiosity to know the cause; one of the women of Elibesis came frighted in, and told her mistress that all the town was in arms: That Ariantes would make himself King and that none durst resist him. You may well imagine Sir, that this news filled Agatherses and Elibesis with wonder: yet Agatherses believed that Elibesis did not only seem fuller of wonder than really she was, and that she knew something of the design: For I forgot to tell you Sir; that the night before, Ariantes talked at least two hours together of his passion with her, and A●atherses knew it. So that this Lover, hearing his Rival would be King, and fearing lest he should become his Subject, his sorrows were beyond expression: and the more, because he believed or at least feared, that Elebesis was Prince to the plot and approved of it: so as not knowing what to believe, or not to believe, he looked fixedly upon Elebesis, as if his eyes would look into the very bottom of her heart; I have reason to think Madam, (said he unto her) that you are acquainted with the unjust proceedings of the Prince Ariantes, since you told me once, that unless you were a Queen, I was in no danger of losing you: But know Madam, that since I am as faithful a Subject as a Lover, and as terrible an enemy as a Rival, the Prince Ariantes is not yet in a condition to offer you a Crown; and he shall never set you upon the Throne, until after he hath sent me to my grave: Let me therefore leave you Madam, and either go meet death, or give it him, who removes me out of your heart: For I do profess I can never live a Subject, either unto my Rival or my mistress: And I swear by all the gods that are adored at Issedon, or any where else in the world, that I will never be your Subject or Ariantes: After this Agatherses went his way though Elebesis would have stayed him: for though she was ambitious and desired to preserve Ariantes, yet she loved Agatherses: But it was in vain to recall him; for since the noise increased Agatherses transported with rage and fury, would needs go and see if he could find any means to quash the Rival's design: so as he went out at a back door, lest he should be compassed about with a crowd of seditious people, and not know what to do.  
But he was no sooner got out, than he met one of his friends, who with a hundred men only would seize upon a For or Tower, which Ariantes was not yet master of: So as Agatherses without more delay went with this party to oppose Ariantes. But before they could get into this Tower, they met with this Prince, and fought him with incredible valour: As for Agatherses he did as much as any jealous Lover could, who fought with his Rival: and he made his way so through the press and got unto the Prince Ariantes, who seeing him come on so furiously, received him with the same vigour, the other assaulted him ask him for all the tumult, whether he fought, as subject unto Thomiris, or as the lover of Elebesis? I fight (replied he fiercely) to hinder you from being King; to hinder Elebesis from being Queen; and to keep myself from being subject unto either her or you. After this, Agatherses made a blow at Ariantes which slightly hurt him in the left arm: And Ariantes made another at Agatherses which scratched him on the right side; and which had killed him, had he not warded it with much cunning and force.  
But in conclusion, Ariantes being ten times more numerous than his enemies, Agatharses was not able to retard the designs of this Prince: For all his men being neither soldiers, nor men of quality, they ran away as soon as they saw ten or twelve of themselves killed: So that Agatharses fearing to fall under the power of his Rival, or else to become either his Prisoner or subject, he was forced to retreat by a back-lane: but it was with so much sorrow and rage, that never man was more desperate. All he could do was to get into the house of a friend: for since he had assaulted Ariantes, he durst not go into his own house: Furthermore, he sadly heard that nothing could withstand his Rival; and that the tumultuous assembly had declared that Thomiris, was only daughter unto the Prince Lipacaris, and that Ariantes was the son unto the late King of Issedons, and consequently King according to the Laws of the Realm: But to his greatest grief, he was given to understand, that Ariantes whose wound was so slight, that he wore his arm in a scarf rather for fashion than need, had been a whole house with Elibesis. And indeed Sir, since the ambition of this Prince was only an effect of his love, he no sooner saw his design executed, but maugre all his business, he would needs visit her whom he loved and adored: and he might the better do it, because the main weight of this great enterprise did most depend upon Octomasades. I understand that when he first entered into Elibesis Chamber, he found her very sad, yet she received him very lively.  
Now Madam, (said he unto her) the King which means to present you with a Crown, will very shortly be in a capacity to put it upon your head, and to do Justice unto your merit: But Madam, It is to you only I owe my thanks for the obedience of my subjects, for if I had not been your slave, I had still been subject unto I homiriss: yet since I would not seat you upon an ill established Throne, I come now only to make a tender of it unto you, and that you will be pleased to prepare yourself ere long to ascend it, and to beseech you not to make any prayers which may move the gods to forsake me, or to protect Thomiris to my prejudice and advantage of Agatherses.  
I must confess ●ir, replied she, that my reason is at present so distracted, that I am not able to give an answer: and therefore I beseech you give me some time, not only to recollect into my memory what you have said unto me, but also to consider what I shall say unto you; for truly Sir, I am yet so unresolved that I know not well whether I speak unto the Prince Ariantes, or unto the King of Issedons: You will ere long know it Madam, (said he unto her) and if you will not thwart your own Fortunes and mine, you shall know that I am King of the Issedons, and by my ceasing to be your subject, you may begin to be my Queen.  
After this, Ariantes retired, and left Elibesis in a great uncertainty: for truly since she loved Agatherses, it was not possible she should be a Queen unless her constancy was shaken: But since the Throne of a new King did but a little charm her, she resolved upon nothing, but would determine upon the matter hereafter according to the event of things: Thus not knowing whether she had more love or ambition, her mind was in much uncertainty.  
In the mean time Agatherses who was hid in his friend's house was in a most horrid despair; Can I live said he, and suffer my Rival to be a King? and myself to be a Subject both unto him and Elibesis? Fie, fie, I cannot be so basely unworthy: I must either find out a way to hinder my Rival from being King, and my mistress from being Queen, or else I must and will die with despair and grief. Afterwards falling into a profound study, he remembered that there was some places in the walls of Issedon which were broken, and the breaches so great, that he might easily get out with horses: So as conceiving that the multitude and weight of business which lay upon Ariantes & Octomasades, might keep them from any thoughts of repairing those breaches, or from guarding them, he thought his design not impossible: for since no army was on foot, they had more reason to think upon Levies, and to secure themselves in the Town, than to attempt any thing without it: so that Agatharses believed, that if Elib sis pleased, he could get her out of Issedon by the help of his friends through one of these breaches: And by this device rest quietly without being subject either unto his Rival or his Mistress. But not to make a vain Proposition, he provided as many men as was necessary for her guard: He sent to view the places, and he was so industrious, as in all likelihood he wanted nothing but the consent of Elibesis. So that having put all things into good order, he writ that same night unto Elibesis to give him a private audience, which considering the present juncture of things, she durst not refuse. For since she knew him to be of a very violent temper, she feared lest he should either perish in some desperate attempt, or else cause Ariantes to perish: so as thinking she should at least persuade him unto patience, until she was fully resolved in herself, she resolved for the present to go the next morning upon a visit unto his wife, in whose house Agatherses lay hid: and so see him with more safety than at her own house.  
But Sir, before I acquaint you with the discourse of these two persons, I must needs acquaint you with the cruel separation of Adonacris and Noromanta: for at the beginning of this tumult, the father of this fair one being faithfully devoted to the service of Thomiris, and seeing the design of Ariantes, he would not stay any longer in a Rebellious Town: Therefore assoon as he saw Ariantes was like to thrive in his design, and not being able to oppose him, he went out of Issedon in the disorder, and carried his daughter with him: and before any Guards was set upon the gates, and whilst all was in a tumult, he put Noromanta in a Coach, and got out before any could acquaint Adonacris. You may imagine Sir, how this went to his heart, and how he was wonder-struck when after he had followed Ariantes all the day, and past all the peril, he heard that Noromanta was not in Issedon, yet since he imagined that her father would carry her to his own house, his sorrows lessened, in hopes to hear from her if he sent an Express: and indeed he writ unto her the very same hour, and sent his Letter by one of his own men; for considering the state of things, Honour would not permit him to absent his person, being engaged in the Prince Ariantes Party. But to return unto Elibesis and Agatherses, be pleased to know Sir, that Elibesis was with the Lady, in whose house she was to see Agatherses, and where indeed she did see him. But to the end this meeting might be closely carried, Elibesis carried with her only one woman, and that discourse might be more free, chance ordered it so, that the Lady of the house being sick, Elibesis could see her but a while, and the Lady left her with Agatherses and the woman which followed her: And assoon as this lover saw himself at liberty to speak his thoughts; I know not Madam, said he unto Elibesis, whether you will hear me without hate; but I am certain you cannot deny me what I shall ask, without deserving I should leave loving; for, not to trouble you with any long wound story, if you refuse to go out of Issedon, and to get out of the power of my Rival, I shall have reason to think you prefer him before me, and that you will willingly submit unto him: And to remove all difficulty, I shall tell you in two words, I know an infallible way how to get you out of Issedon this very night ensuing. I have men ready for your guard: A Lady of your acquaintance and friendship, hating this rebellious Town, will go out of it with you: And I will carry you both unto the Queen, begging nothing from you, but that you will not expose yourself unto the Tyranny of an usurper, who doubtless will presently fall, and ruin you if you should be so unjust as to forsake me for him. I assure you Sir, (replied Elibesis with much astonishment) That I would go out of Issedon with all my heart, but since I cannot do it with my honour, I must stay here: For truly how can I with any hansomeness go out, having a father and a brother engaged with the Prince Ariantes? but truly (added she subtly, and purposely to appease him) I cannot tell whether I should be able to deny you, if I were sure his design would prosper; but I pray Sir, consider that Ariantes will know of my I departure, and knowing will follow me, and sending men after, will bring me back: and should be extremely sorry to see you killed before my face, or at least made a prisoner, and therefore it's better to sit still then to run such dangerous hazards. Do not deceive both yourself and me Madam (replied Agatherses sharply) for you can never persuade me that it is a fitting a woman of your beauty should stay under the power of an usurper, who is in love with you, when as you may if you please get out: and I must go a little further Madam and tell you, that though I were not your lover; though you had never made me any promises of eternal affection: and though you had no other inducement to go out of Issedon but your own honour; yet you ought to go if you could, and steal away, even from your parents if they should oppose it: unless you were resolved to obey the Prince Ariantes in all things without any exception: you know Madam, he loves you as much as possible, and yet you will remain under his power. Tell me I beseech you Madam, what safety can you have of your Person when you are under the command of a Prince, who to pull the Crown off his Sister's head, doth violate all manner of Rights, stifles all the Laws of nature and Justice, and who to satisfy his ambition, cares not to set two Kingdoms in a flame, to make Rivers of blood, and Mountains of dead men: Consider Madam, what he will do to satisfy his love, which is a more quick, lively and active passion; yet you think ywr self safe under the power of such a lover, but does not consider that he will be transported into the most violent extremities if you resist him: If you do not apprehend all this Madam, it is because you are resolved not to resist him, for otherwise you would quickly take me at my word, and get out of Issedon this very night: However I must tell you thus much, that to be the wife of a wicked ●usurper, who doubtless will ere long be overwhelmed in the ruins of his new ill gotten Throne, is a most miserable piece of Fortune: and according to all probabilities, Ariantes will shortly be in that condition. But the truth is (added he, and lifted up his eyes to heaven) that if he be not miserable until after you have made him happy, he will die with glory, and I with unequalled despair.  
Consider therefore Madam, I conjure you, what answer you will give me: Think seriously what an amorous Tyrant will desire who is master of her he loves, moreover, I swear unto you by all the Divinities of Heaven and Earth, that if you will not do what in all reason you ought, I will do all that Love, Rage, Jealousy, hatred and revenge can make a desperate Lover do, either to ruin his Rival, or to be revenged upon his Mistress. For I do profess once again, I will never be a Subject either unto Ariantes or Elebesis: Yea, express yourself so violently (said she unto him) that Sir, I know not how to answer you: and you answer me so coldly replied he that I may well enough understand you; but since my love is above my reason I will not believe what your eyes do tell me, and what your words do make me understand: Therefore to give you a little time of repentance, consider my affection to you. I am violent its true, but the same fire which inflames my anger when I am wronged, the same makes my love so zealous; and therefore do not upbraid me with my impetuosity, I conjure you, unless you will augment it, and if it be possible, cure your mind of so much weakness as to be dazzled with the deceiving glister of Grandeur, though it be a legitimate grandure, and not usurped as that of Ariantes, which is but a bubble of the people, and will vanish to nothing within a while. Consider well too ambitious Elibesis, and act not both against yourself and me: and do not drive a man into despair who is not master of his own thoughts when his love is injured; Speak Madam, I beseech you, but be sure you speak as you ought to do. Doubtless, I shall speak as I ought to do, replied she, but I do not think I shall speak as you would have me; for the truth is, I cannot suffer myself to be violently carried away. Oh Madam, (replied he and interrupted her) this word violently do not suit with my intentions, since I am so far from offering any violence, that I would have you avoid it; but I see you do not fear what the Prince Ariantes will do, when he is master of your heart.  
But Madam, since he hath driven me out of it, you must give me leave to do what I can to drive him out of the Throne which he hath usurped, though I cannot drive him out of your heart. And therefore give me leave to do the duty of a true Subject and a faithful Lover in taking the Queen's part: Yet let me first acquaint you, that whensoever you hear any Troops are marching against Issedon, know that I am certainly in the head of them; and when you hear that Ariantes is wounded or like to be, be sure it is I, who will do what I can to kill him: In short Madam, you may be sure, that if the war continue, my Rival or I must die: And be confident I will use the utmost strength of my power, to leave loving you and to become all hate and revenge. These Madam, are the thoughts which you have inspired into a man who could have no other but to adore you, if you would not change him for another: You are so very violent (replied she) that I know not what to say; You are so unreasonable, answered he, that the most patient man alive would be transported more than I am.  
For Madam, what one obliging word do you give me? I tell you (answered she) that I esteem you as much as ever I did, yet for all that I must act with prudence; and therefore though I should be glad to go out of Issedon; yet I must not, since I cannot without a crime, and without exposing myself unto the anger of my father, my brother, and exposing them to be ill used by the Prince Ariantes, who would suspect them accessaries to my flight. You are a very good daughter Madam, (replied Agatherses coldly) and a good sister, but believe me a very bad Lover: I beseech you Sir, (said she unto him) do not unjustly complain against me, but wait upon the event of things; you tell me that the Prince Ariantes will shortly be hurried from the Throne: stay then and expect his fall with patience, and let both you and me live at rest till then. I do very well understand you Madam, (replied he hastily;) you would have me let you alone until you may make your choice according to the event of things; that is to say, if the design of Ariantes succeed well, you are resolved to close with him, and look upon me as your Subject; and if it succeed ill, then perhaps you will admit of me for your slave. But Madam, the heart of Agatherses cannot so basely close with time: I have loved you and you have not hated me; keep in that mind still I beseech you, or if you cannot, give me leave to try if I can fall off also. For truly Madam: (pursued he with much vehemency) I wish Hercules may beat my brains out with his club; that Neptune may push me into the bottom of the Sea with his Trident, and that Jupiter may blast me with his Thunderbolt, if ever I depend upon the good or bad success of the war. Therefore Madam, choose now which you please, or never; but consider I beseech you, that Ariantes is an usurper of four and twenty hours standing: That his Throne stands but upon loose sand, and that I am a most faithful subject to the Queen, and the most faithful lover in the world. Moreover Ariantes did not love you till of late, and I have both loved and adored you many years: Ariantes will not love you till he enjoy you; but I will love you till I die: but to oblige me unto this Madam, you must quit Issedon; If the Gods whose names you use, replied Elibesis, were not extremely good, doubtless they would punish you for all your profanations, and your injustice; but to give you a direct answer, I will peremptorily tell you that I will not go out of Issedon, and because your violences doth authorise mine, I must tell you further, that if you had loved me without self-interest, you would never have grudged my being a Queen; but had rather have been my subject, than my Husband: but it is no argument of a superlative love, to desire the enjoyment of her he loves, and not to endure a Rival should possess her: Whosoever does not desire the enjoyment of her he loves, (replied Agatherses) is not any superlative lover. Ah Madam, truly I cannot love so, and whosoever can be contented to part with her he loves, loves but imperfectly: But Madam, since you will not do as I desire, I must do as you would not have me.  
After this, Elibesis finding more love in her heart then ambition, expressed herself as well as possibly she could to appease him, to mollify him, and to delude him; yet not telling him that she would go out of Issedon, nor directly promising she would not marry Ariantes. But Agatherses having wit at will, did know the thoughts of her heart, as well as if she had ingeniously confessed them: and indeed he did so plainly see, that she would neither lose him nor keep him, that he was transported more than before: And Elibesis also having her turn of anger, did upon a sudden leave him, and so they both parted very ill satisfied with each other. Agatherses told me since, that he intended to desire the man with whom he lodged, to keep Elibesis in his house, to the end he might have carried her away the night following whether she would or no: But this design being very imprudent, he thought that neither his friend nor his wife would ever consent unto it; so as he rejected that thought, as a thing impossible to be executed. In the mean time, after he had in vain persuaded Elibesis to go out of Issedon, he began to think of getting out himself, and the rather because he was advertised that the Prince Ariantes caused a search to be made for him, and would secure his person: therefore without further delay, he disguised himself, and the night following he went out of Issedon through the breaches in the walls; and he went out so happily, that if he had deferred it one day longer, he had miss of his aim; for Octomasades caused those breaches to be repaired the very next morning. But at parting he writ unto Elibesis, and in such an odd manner, as never was love letter in the like: for my part, I think I have given a hundred copies of it, and I have writ it so oft that I think I am able to repeat it word for word: And thus this desperate lover writ unto his ambitious Mistress.  
AGATHERSES unto ELIBESIS.  
Madam,  
I Could not choose but tell you at parting, that since fortune and love could make people miserable, they never left a●y in such a cruel incertainty as you and I: For Madam, you stay in Issedon, not knowing whether you shall be Queen, though you have a most ambitious desire of being so: And I depart out of it not well knowing whether I can hinder my Rival from being King, nor whether I can banish you out of my heart, as you banished me out of yours: But I am sure only of this, that if I do continue loving you, it shall be against my will: And though I should love you as long as I lived, with the same zeal I did when Ariantes came first to Issedon, yet I will never tell you so as long as I live: This Madam is the very last Testimony of my love you shall ever receive from me: But my going into the service of Thomiris, shall not be the last Testimony of hatred, which my Rival shall receive. Adieu Madam, I know not whether Fortune will ever give you any subjects; but I am sure love gave you a slave that deserved to be kept, and the chains he wore perhaps would have been more glorious to you, than the Crown you hope to wear will be.  
AGATHERSES.  
Though this Letter was something sharp, Elibesis yet was not much moved at it; but since ambition was then predominat, she would not answer it: And Agatherses understanding by him who delivered it, that she said she had no answer to return, he entered into a new despair, which made him pass for one of the faithful subjects in the world: For Sir, he went unto the Tents Royal, and offered Thomiris to levy men at his own charge, and to spend both his state and fortune in her service. And since that Princess could not find a man of more courage and spirit than he, she made him Lieutenant General of the army which she intended to send against Issedon; and which she would not lead herself, because she fell sick of sorrow for your departure Sir. But whilst Thomiris did strive to hinder Ariantes from making himself King, Ariantes studied how to keep the Crown he had got, and how to make Elibesis Queen. Whilst, I say, Adonacris did wait with much impatience for the return of him he sent unto his dear Noromata, that Lady was in a strange conjuncture of troubles. For Sir, be pleased to know, that her father, whose name was Targitas, and who was an imperious and violent man, after he came to his house bethought himself how to signalise his fidelity to Thomiris: and this house of his being very strong, he made a Garrison of it, and prepared himself to go unto the Army, as soon as the Queen had begun her march.  
But Sir, since in the beginning of these troubles every one looked like an enemy, and every one stood upon his guard, he whom Adonacris had sent unto Noromata, could not carry himself so, but the father of this fair one discovered that he had some secret business: so that causing him to be stopped and searched, they found the letter which Adonacris writ unto Noromata: which as he told me since was very long, and very tender: For since he foresaw that he should be long from her, and knew not whether he could write after, he desired to put her in memory of his zealous Passion: but this Letter which he hoped would produce some good effects proved quite the contrary; for Sir, the father of Noromata, no sooner saw it, but he was extremely angry, for he saw his daughter did not hate him who writ it.  
So as imagining this affection to be of another nature than it was, he applied all violent remedies to break it off: For though he esteemed Adonacris very much, yet he would not have him marry his daughter, though upon no other reason, but because he sided with Ariantes: So that this violent man without more delay resolved to marry her to a man of good account, called Sitalces, who had been long in love with her, and asked the question before ever he went to Issedon, but he entreated him to stay for an answer until his return: And so resolving that the first news which Adonacris should hear of Noromata, should be of her marriage, he kept the man who brought the letter under the notion of a spy; and gave as favourable an answer unto Sitalces as he could possibly either expect or desire. After which he went unto Noromataes chamber, and commanded her to receive Sitalces as the man whom she was to marry within the compass of eight days, without any Ceremony; it not being fit said he to feast it at the beginning of a Civil war. You may imagine Sir, how Noromata was surprised at this and troubled at this command: for being naturally of a sweet, mild and modest temper, she knew not how to resist Targitas, yet since Sitalces was one that made open profession of bravery, and to be the first always in all dangers and attempts: she beseeched her father to consider, that to marry her now unto Sitalces in the beginning of a bloody war, was to put her presently into mourning, and therefore desired him to stay till things were composed betwixt Thomiris and Ariantes. But Targitas knowing very well her real reason, he was very angry at her, and told her that without any more ado she must obey, and obey presently, and with a good will. And that you may the sooner resolve upon it (said he in a transport of anger) Let me tell you, that though you should not marry Sitalces, yet you shall never marry Adonacris. You may imagine Sir, how Noromata wondered her father should know of any passages in Issedon; but her wonder increased when she offered to justify and excuse herself, for he charged her not to speak; telling her, that she could no way justify her admittance of Adonacris without his leave, then by marrying Sitalces at his command. Noromanta did not yet yield; but at last yield she must, and suffered Sitalces to visit her as the man whom she was to marry.  
And indeed within eight days after, he did marry her much against her will; for Sir, you must know that Targitas was a man so peremptory, and had in his face such a terror as caused fear; so that Noromata was excusable in not resisting him: and the rather, because she obeyed him with extreme sorrow and repugnancy. But that which rendered her most deserving pity, was because she had an extreme natural aversion against Sitalces, as she had an inclination unto Adonacris: yet fear and virtue together moved her to obey Targitas. But to complete her grief the next morning after the marriage her father came into her chamber, and showed her the Letter which Adonacris writ: I would not show you daughter (said he unto her) what Adonacris hath writ unto you, until I had put you into a condition of answering as I would have you. But now since you are wife unto Sitalces, I cannot think you will be the Mistress of Adonacris. And therefore, since I would have all manner of gallantries end betwixt you, and have no ill consequences; I pray write unto him in my presence; but write as I shall desire you, and as virtue requires you should: which is, that you are the wife of Sitalces; that you would have him never to write unto you again, and that you forbid him ever to see you again as long as you live. To tell you Sir, how Noromata grieved at the sight of Adonacris his letter, and at his apprehending the sad news of her marriage, is not an easy matter: yet since her father was a man that would not be dallied with, resolve she must, to write, or not to write; did she follow her own inclination, write she would not, since she would not write such bad news. But afterwards, considering she was married unto Sitalces, and it was not fit to hold any longer commerce with Adonacris, therefore she thought best to overcome herself, and not anger her father, who being all violence and haste had acquainted him that married her with the business.  
Thus Sir, though the fair Noromata had her soul full of affection to Adonacris, though her eyes did swim in tears, her heart beat, and her hand tremble, yet she did write as Targitas would have her. 'tis true, that maugre the trouble of her mind, she called such words to express what her father desired, as it was easy to see her soul was full of sorrow. However, as soon as this letter was writ Targitas delivered it unto the man whom Adonacris sent; And not permitting him to see Noromata, he caused him to be conducted a day's journey from the place where he was.  
All this while Adonacris was in a most impatient perplexity, and expectation of his return whom he had sent unto her. But alas, his return was much more grievous unto him, when he understood how he had been arrested, searched, and Targitas seen his letter: But much more still was his sorrow, when he heard that Noromata had married Sitalces, when he read her letter: Since I was the confident of his sorrows, I am able to assure you that they were in a most high degree: but since he knew that Noromata had an aversion unto Sitalces, he could not charge her with inconstancy, only of a little weakness, though it was such as her virtue might excuse, since she did it only in obedience to her father: But since this was a misery without remedy, he complained sometimes in such feeling expressions as moved me to pity him very much.  
Alas, alas (said he the day he received Noromatas letter) into what strange destiny am I reserved? If I had a dozen Rivals and all preferred before me, I should be much less miserable than I am, though Noromata doth not hate me, and hath a husband whom she loves not. For such a misery though great, yet was not without a remedy: But that Noromata should be wife unto one whom she hates; and that she should be a woman of a rare virtue, this is a thing which leaves me nothing to do but complain and pity both her and myself. Yet surely her affection unto me was not great, since she was able to obey so soon; and I wish unto the gods that mine to her were no more violent. However Sir, Adonacris had a desire that Noromata should know his sorrows; and therefore as soon as he heard that Targitas and Sitalces were gone unto Thomiris, three days after the marriage, and that they had sent unto a Town called Typanis, with intention to continue there as long as the war lasted, he dispatched one of his servants unto the place where she was. Yet Sir, she would not read his letter, but sent it back sealed together with this note, which had neither superscription, nor subscription unto it.  
SInce I am not now the same I was when I permitted you to write unto me, forbear writing unto one whom decency will not allow so much as to see your letters, much less to answer them: I have not opened this you sent, for I do not love to hear of miseries which I neither can nor aught to ease: And I desire you with all my heart, never to write to me again as long as you live; And to believe confidently, that I can never do any thing more advantageous for you, than not to excuse myself, and permit you to hate me, if you cannot cease loving unless you pass from love to hatred. After this, ask no more of me, for I do profess this is the last time of writing unto you, and I would not have written now, but only to desire you to write no more unto me.  
After the reading of this letter Sir, the miserable Adonacris had nothing to do, but to strive with his sorrows, and to suffer them without seeking a remedy. Yet he was vexed with a fresh inquietude: For you must know that after Thomiris had her Army up, and Ariantes in the head, Agatharses upon the first occasion killed the brother unto a Lady of high account, called Argirispe, whom I told you was a friend unto Elibesis, so as by this means Argirispe being one of the richest matches in all Issedon, the father of Adonacris and Elibesis, whose name was Tyssagetties, had a fancy to marry his son unto her; and he was so earnest upon it that he never let him enjoy any rest. Also he employed the Prince Ariantes, and Octomasades to persuade him unto a marriage with her. For in those times of tumult Ceremonies were not stood upon; and therefore the mourning of Argirispe was no hindrance unto her marriage: And as for Argirispe, she was not unwilling to marry such a well accomplished man, who was brother unto her who was shortly to be a Queen: So as the whole Family of Adonacris being met together to persecute him, and to tell him that he did not love the Grandeur of his house: he was so chid by them that in the end he told them, he would do as they desired.  
Thus was the marriage made in four days, by the authority of Ariantes; but to tell you truly, his greatest enducement was, because I persuaded him to stifle a passion in which he had no hopes; and because he hoped that perhaps the beauty of Argirispe might by degrees root Noromata out of his heart. Thus though Adonacris did still love Noromata, and not love Argirispe; yet he lived very lively towards her. But to his comfort, the Prince Ariantes having viewed his Troops, departed from Issedon, with intention to meet the Army of Thomiris, which was advancing with design to decide the matter by battle; and by this means Adonacris was delivered from his constraint of being with Argirispe. Thus Sitalces and Adonacris were engaged in two contrary sides; for Sitalces followed his father in law, and went to Thomiris three days after his marriage with Noromata: And Adonacris engaged with Ariantes: so as they were in contrary sides, as well as Ariantes and Agatherses, who as I told you before was Lieutenant General of Thomiris her Army, which the young Spargapises commanded, by the advice of the prudent Therez, by reason of the Queen's indisposition. But to speak truth, since Spargapises was but a child, and his name only used to prevent the pretention of others; and since Agatherses was more forward than any other, being exasperated by the whetstones of love, hatred and revenge, it was he who indeed was General of the Army.  
In the mean time, the Prince Ariantes before he went from Issedon, did set guards upon Elibesis; lest during his absence the friends of Agatherses should attempt any thing against her. But Sir, I forgot to tell you, that before he went away; he courted Elibesis as earnestly as he could to marry him: For though he had told her that his Throne was yet but ill established to set her upon it; yet since his love increased, he pressed her unto it: yet all in vain; for she was resolved to marry none under a King, and a King quietly settled in his Dominion: It being certain that of all Subjects she loved Agatherses best, and much better than Ariantes though a Prince.  
Thus finding several pretences which did not incense this Prince, she denied his desire, and he was forced to retire without marriage: So as by this means Agatherses was not in so bad a condition as Adonacris; for he had a Rival to fight with, whose death might be advantageous to him. But as for Adonacris, though Sitalces were killed he were never the better, since Agarispes was his wife: so that I think none could be in a sadder condition than he was during all that war. I will not make any particular relation of this War unto you Sir, lest I should abuse your patience: yet I must needs tell you, that when both armies met, and many Subjects of one Princess ready to kill each other, the most prudent of both sides and the least interested did make some overtures of an accommodation, and began to talk mildly upon the matter before they fell to blows: So as the wise Terez and Targitas, did so negotiate the business, maugre both Agatherses and Octomasades, who were all for war; one out of ambition, the other out of love, that they brought the business to a kind of Treaty.  
And within a few days after, it was resolved to meet at a certain place and confer, and each side give their reasons, and thereupon to advise upon the best expedients of composing the difference. The place of conference being resolved upon, Ariantes nominated Octomasades and six other Commissioners on his side: Agatherses carried the matter so well that he himself was chief Commissioner for Thomiris, to the end he might transact against Ariantes, as well during the conference as the War; and certainly he did most worthily acquit himself, for do not think it possible any could bring stronger reasons to maintain, that though Thomiris was born before her Father came to the Crown, yet she ought to be looked upon as the eldest Daughter unto the King of the Issedons, and not only as the Daughter of Lipacaris, and consequently since the Laws of the Land made the eldest Child of the King to reign without any difference of Sex, Thomiris was lawful Queen, and Ariantes an Usurper.  
Octomasades maintained very strongly, that though the Laws of the Land made the eldest Child of the King to reign, yet it ought to be the Prince Ariantes, since he only was Son unto the King of the Issedons, and Thomiris the Daughter of a Subject, though she was his eldest Sister, and by consequence incapable of reigning; since it was the eldest Child of a King whose due it is: The truth is (said he to maintain the right of Ariantes) Ariantes pretends not to the Crown, as Son unto Lipacaris, but only as Son unto the King of Issedons: For truly a forced exposition ought not to be given unto that Law which gives him for the Sceptre; it must be understood according to the letter, and be known, that those who made it, had sufficient reasons to authorise it: Certainly there is all the equity in the world, that the People who can never have too much respect unto those who ought to command them, should have another kind of person over them then themselves, to wit, a person that is incapable of reigning, and subject to the same obedience they are: To avoid which inconvenience, it must not be Thomiris which must reign, since all the people know her born in a private condition, when her Father was no King; but on the contrary, it ought to be the Prince Ariantes, whom the people saw born upon a Throne. But what if it will be objected? Why, though the Prince Lipacaris was a Subject, yet he made himself King. 'Tis true indeed, he did so, but it was after another manner; for the Prince Lipacaris did make himself King by the right of conquerors, but his Successors cannot be King, but by the Laws he established; So it must be the Son or Daughter of a King, and not of a Subject, who ought legally to succeed. Moreover, there is one reason which moves me to expound the Law thus; for certainly a Throne stamps a new Character of Grandeur upon those who are upon it: And those who are born Kings, have more Royal inclinations, more worthy of a Sceptre, then others who are born in a lower condition: And to speak rationally, the first day of a man's life who makes himself King, is the first day that he steps upon the Throne, so as all before it were not his, and it must be since he was the Father of his Subjects, that he can be called the Father of his Children.  
Thus I conclude, that the Law which says that the Firstborn of the King of Issedons ought to reign, aught to be expounded as I have done, though Lipacares had had a Son elder than Ariantes in lieu of Thomiris; from a more forcible reason therefore it ought to be thus, since it is more advantageous to the people to have a King, than a Queen. Furthermore, every thing argues in favour of the side which I maintain; for Thomiris in yielding the Issedonian Crown unto the Prince Ariantes, remains still Queen of the Massagettes; on the contrary, the Son unto the King of Issedon, who only ought to reign over them, will be without a Kingdom, and indeed the Issedons will have neither King nor Queen, for since the marriage of Thomiris, she never comes amongst them, and she sufficiently makes it known, that Nature hath not infused into her heart that tender affection which Kings ought to have unto their people, since she never honours them with her presence; and it may be said, that she rather treats them like a People which she subjected by Usurpation, than Subjects which a legal and successive right did give her, since she governs them by Substitutes, and never comes herself amongst them. But not to use reasons and arguments where the authority of the Law is sufficient, I will maintain, that since the Eldest Child of the Issedonian King ought to reign, it ought to be the Prince Ariantes. And I will further affirm, that it would be more glorious unto Thomiris to be the Wife, the Mother, and the Sister of a King; then to have one Crown more, and have a Brother that is Subject unto the Prince her Son: So as I conclude, that if she will have the Wars to cease, she must restore the Crown of Issedon unto him, to whom legally it belongs; and that she let him be her brother by nature, and her Ally by interest of his Crown, and not a Subject. After this Sir, the eloquence of Octomasades went a little further, and enlarged itself in commendations of the Prince Ariantes, but concluded that he would rely wholly upon the Law, which was; that the eldest Child unto the King of Issedons should reign.  
I willingly consent (replied Agatherses after Octomasades had done) that the Law be punctually relied upon, which would have the eldest Child unto the King of Issedons to reign, since that is the foundation upon which the right Title of Thomiris her reign is built, and by which Ariantes ought to be looked upon only as an Usurper: And to prove that Thomiris is the eldest Daughter unto the Issedonian King, though she was born, when he was only the Prince Licaparis; I need only say, that Lipacaris and the King of Issedons, being all one and the same person, Thomirs cannot be the eldest Daughter of the one, but she must be the eldest Daughter of the other. Also, if you tell me she is not the Daughter to the King of Issedons, I will tell you again that Ariantes is the Son of Lipacaris, and you cannot deny it by the same reason: For truly Lipacaris in ascending the Throne, did not cease to be the same he was before in all things directly relating to his person, he was still brave and generous, he was the Husband of his Wife, Father to his Daughter, Cousin to his kindred, and indeed all the very same he was before his being King: The elevation of his Fortune did not subvert the course of nature, it did not break the ligaments of proximity, and all his power cannot make that which is, never to have been: So since Lipacaris had a Daughter before he was King, she is still his Daughter, though afterwards he ascended a Throne. I would gladly know, if she be not Daughter to the King of Issedons, whose Daughter she is? For as soon as the King her Father was upon the Throne, it seems he was no longer Lipacaris, but Lipacaris was so mixed, incorporated, and confounded with the King of Issedons, that none ever knew how to separate them. So that since Lipacaris is King of the Issedons, since the King of Issedons is Lipacaris, and since they are both but one and the same, it must follow by necessary consequence, that Thomiris is eldest Daughter unto the King, and her unto whom the Laws gives the Crown: That the Prince Ariantes is her Subject, and that he most unjustly takes up Arms, by giving an interprecation unto the Laws of the Land, which they will not admit of. To say, that the people before they can respect those who ought to be their Masters, must obey Ariantes before Thomiris, because they had seen her a Subject like themselves, this in my opinion is the strangest thing in the world: They might as well say, that the people, because they had seen Lipacaris a Subject like themselves thirty years together, ought not to obey him after the Gods had placed him upon the Throne. But there are stronger arguments and reasons why they ought to obey the Daughter of their King, unto whom the Law gives more right unto the Crown of Issedon, than force did unto Lipacaris. Moreover, there is much shallowness in that argument which says that Thomiris hath more Crowns than one, and therefore may well part with the other, for if she had a hundred, yet the Crown of Issedon is hers, and no reason but why she should keep it: Private persons may sometimes doubtless yield something which descends unto them from their Fathers, but Kngs never ought to yield Kingdoms: And though it be said, that it is not more glorious unto Thomiris to be the Daughter of a King, then to be the Sister of another, yet I say she ought to insist peremptorily upon her right unto the Kingdom of Issedon, over which she hath reigned with so much glory, that her presence was not necessary to make her people obedient, so wisely did she govern them. But not to dispute whether a King or a Queen is more advantageous unto the people, I say, as I said before, that since Lipacaris and the King of Issedons are both one and the same person, and since Thomiris is elder than Ariantes, and eldest Daughter to the Queen, she ought to continue her Reign, as she began, since the Laws of the Land require it, and since she ascended the Throne by the people's consent. And indeed, to speak rationally, what strange Chimique division would it be to divide Lipacaris from the King of Issedons? It was the virtues of Lipacaris which made him King, and he did greater things to get upon the Throne than he did afterwards: So as it would be great injustice to put so great a difference between what he was when he deserved to be King, and what he was after he was a King. In my opinion, whosoever is so happy as to make himself a King, may be looked upon as one even from his Cradle to his Grave: For as it may be said, it is the Gods who gives Crowns as best pleaseth them; so it may be said, that whosoever is to be a King, is so from his birth, because it was so decreed from the beginning: So though men did not know that Lipacaris was to be King, yet by an infallible fatality he was to be so, and from his Cradle induced with all high qualities, fit to be ranked in the Catalogue of Kings, by that power which Sovereignly disposes of Monarchies and Empires, and which before he was born, knew whether Thomiris or Ariantes should reign.  
Lipacaris then being by the Gods put into the rank of Kings, as soon as he was put into the rank of men, though it should be granted that Thomiris is only Daughter unto Lipacaris, yet it must of necessity follow, that she is also Daughter unto the King of Issedons, since he was marked out for such a one by those who have right to give unto men such Characters as best pleaseth them. But not to fly unto any subtleties to maintain the equity of a cause which nothing can weaken, I shall tell you only in two words, that the Law says, the Kingdom belongs unto the eldest Child of the King, without distinction of Sex, that Thomiris is five years elder than the Prince Ariantes, that as soon as Lipacaris ceased being a Subject, and began to be a King, Thomiris also ceased to be the Daughter of a Subject, and began to be the Daughter of a King; and that unless it can be said her Father was never King of Issedon, they cannot take from her the quality of a King's Daughter, since she cannot change her Father, as he changed his Fortune. So that being his, and brought up with him, she is as he is, and by consequence is legitimate Queen according to the Laws of the Land, and by the same consequence, the Prince Ariantes cannot pretend unto any thing but a pardon for his crime, and to be the prime Subject unto this great Queen. I believe Sir you will think, that a conference of men who affected not Peace would come to nothing; but that on the contrary, it would exasperate their spirits; for since Agatherses hated Ariantes, he used many offensive invectives; and since Octomasades feared nothing more than to come under the lash of a Queen, whom he had wronged, he was full of tart expressions against her passion, to the end he might hinder the War from ceasing.  
Thus after three day's conference and repetition of things, rather against Peace then for it, the Treaty ended, and the War began. But Sir, the thing most remarkable was, that whilst Octomasades and Agatherses conferred together, Adonacris accompanying Octomasades, and Sitalces Agatherses, the miserable Adonacris had the sorrow to see the Possessor of his dear Noromata, whom he yet knew not; for Sitalces was one of the Grand Signiors in his Country, who was well contented with his Quality, who came into the Wars when it came to him, and who never came at Court but by chance: So as Adonacris had never seen him: And that which most amazed him was, that since Sitalces did not know that he had any intelligence with his Wife, that he was in love with her, or any acquaintance between them, he addressed himself always unto him, to propose such expedients as he fancied: So that since it was not possible he should see the Possessor of his dear Noromata, without extreme grief, he was in a most perplexed condition, and the worse, because his love increased: For Sitalces being one of those who think they can never talk too much of their Wives, and since it was so short a time since he was married, that he talked of her more like a Lover then a Husband. It chanced one day whilst the Commissioners were conferring together, a friend of Sitalces told him in the presence of Adonacris, that he had more reason than any other to persuade Agatherses unto an accommodation, and to end the War: For truly, said he unto him, it is one of the hardest adventures that can befall a man, who having been whole years in love with a Beauty, should part from her three days after he had married her: 'Tis very true, replied Sitalces, the Adventure is very cross, and I must confess, I wish an end of the War, as much because I would return unto Noromata, as because I am a Lover of my Country's Peace.  
Whilst Sitalces talked thus, Adonacris spoke not a word, but sighed in secret: Yet this friend unto Sitalces being a man that would put a hundred questions, and Sitalces being one, who though he had wit enough; yet was not so delicate as to know one needs not answer precisely unto every question which is asked: Such Questions, and such Answers passed between them, as made Adonacris desperate; for this impertinent friend did oblige Sitalces, not only to relate his passion unto Noromata, but all passages since his marriage, which Sitalces did aggravate in such terms, as so sadded the soul of Adonacris, that he was ready to lose his patience, and utter such things as might make it known that he was the Lover of Noromata; yet he could not part from the place where he was, because resentments of love would not let him forbear audience of all that could be said concerning Noromata. But at the last he gathered some comfort from the words of Sitalces; for his friend asked him (after a hundred impertinent questions) whether Noromata was not as sad at parting, as she was glad of his company? And whether she did not water her cheeks with tears? Sitalces answered him, that it seemed he never knew Noromata, since he did not think her able to Mistress herself in all things: For truly, said he, she hath such a command over herself, that when I married her, there was not the least sign of any joy in her eyes, and when I parted from her, there appeared not the least sorrow in her countenance: And I am persuaded she can love and hate to the height if she please, without being discovered; and when I parted from her, she did so well hide her thoughts from me, that she seemed to be neither glad nor sad, only modest and serious.  
As soon as Sitalces had said so, the discourse changing subject Adonacris retired, to enjoy the consolation of thinking that Sitalces never saw any joys in the eyes of Noromata, since he married her; and this thought was the sweeter, because he remembered how often he had seen joy dance in her cheeks and eyes when he had given her any testimony of his love, and how by a sweet communication of looks without any words, she imparted her heart unto him. So that not doubting but Noromata was capable enough of joy, and knowing by experience that she was not always a mistress of herself, since she had more than once in vain striven to hide her thoughts, he therefore thought to his comfort that she did not love Sitalces when she married him; and that perhaps she loved him still, at least grieved for him. So that his love increasing, he was so vexed that he was married, as he had almost as much ado to keep himself from hating Argarispe, as from loving Noromata. For truly (said he in himself) since my affection to Noromata is not brutish, only grounded upon sense; if I were sure that Noromata loved me as well as I loved her, though she be the wife of Sitalces, and as absent as I am, yet I should entertain myself with many a pleasing thought, and enjoy many a sweet minute. But alas, how should Noromata ever believe I love her, since I married Argirispe? since she knows not how I was forced to it: nor can consider that my affection to her is the cause of it: Perhaps she is glad that my design of marrying did not take effect, since I was so apt to change: but alas, Noromata, you are much mistaken if you think so; for Heavens know I never loved Argirispe but still you, and shall do ever. But alas, what should, or what would I have Noromata do? Sitalces enjoys her; she is all virtue; and I shall never see her again: stifle a passion Adonacris, which will do nothing but torment thee; and be not so foolishly fond, as eternally to desire things impossible, and to love where there is not the least hope. Adonacris had good reason to consult with his reason how to quench his flames, for I assure you his love augmented by suppressing it, and he was the more overcome by striving against it. In the mean time the Treaty being ended as I told you before, Octomasades and Agatherses parted, both very glad that nothing was done.  
But as Adonacris was going away, Agatherses came to him, and (speaking in his high and excellent Tone) I Pray Adonacris said he unto him, do me the favour to tell the fair Elibesis, that it is not long of Octomasades but me, the peace is not concluded; and that I hindered Ariantes from being King, by a Passion less interested, then that by which Octomasades would hinder Thomiris from being Queen; since his is ambition, and mine revenge. Since perhaps you shall be the Subject of Ariantes Sir, whether you will or no (replied Adonacris) I will do you so good an office as not to tell my sister a thing which may offend her, but will tell it her from myself: Alas (replied Agatherses in a fury and went away) if ever I be Subject unto Ariantes, be confident, that I will be a very rebellious one. After this Adonacris returned a sharp answer, but Agatherses did not hear him: And the truth is, he did so dislike the proceedings of Elibesis with Agatherses, that he retained the one half of his resentment, out of a thought that she had done him wrong.  
In the mean while, as the state of things than stood, a battle had decided the business, and quite ruined the side which lost it, and therefore both sides were very cautions of fight until they saw a great probability of being victorious. But since both sides had officers admirably well known in Martial affairs: Since Ariantes of his side, and Agatherses of the other, were both very circumspect; it was not easy for either side to suppress each other.  
Moreover, since Thomiris hoped every day to recover of her languishing disease which her sorrows for your departure Sir, had caused; she would not hazard her Army: And to tell you truly what I think, I am persuaded she had a mind to keep her Forces for another design then to punish Ariantes, whom she always believed would be reduced into his duty when she desired him. So that Spargapises and Agatherses having several orders from Thomiris, to attempt nothing rashly, they were constrained to hazard nothing rashly, nor be so forward as otherwise they would. Thus both sides often skirmished, but never came to any desiding battle. Again, since the Army was not far from Issedon, Ariantes often stole a day to go and see Elibesis, whose soul was much unsettled: for the truth is, she loved Agatherses whether she would or no: But ambition having a greater prevalence in her soul, than love had, she could not treat Ariantes ill, in hopes of being Queen: so as when he came to see her, she received him with all possible sweetness. Yet she still enquired concerning Agatherses, and would often tell one of his intimate friends whom he left in Issedon, many obliging passages concerning him in hopes of bringing him back unto her, in case Ariantes was not King.  
On the other side Argirispe who loved Adonacris more than she was loved, and who was one that made a misfortune of every thing, she was in continual fears of his being killed, or at least being wounded: for since she was ignorant of his being in love with Noromata before his marriage; and since he behaved himself very civilly towards her; she was not at all jealous, though her natural temper was very apt for it as well as Sitalces. As for Noromata, she droned away a very melancholy life; yet her comfort was, that her husband was not with her; and that she could be sad and no body see her: for the truth is, she had such a tenderness of soul towards Adonacris, which all her virtue could not overcome. ●et she was vexed at heart to hear he was married, though she knew very well her anger was ill grounded, and that since she never intended to see Adonacris again, it was no matter whether she was married or not married. But for all that, Love being a passion which will never be subject unto reason, Noromata with all her reason could not choose but murmur in secret, that Adonacris was married as well as herself: yet she murmured without any hatred, and accused him only of the same injustice whereof she accused herself.  
As for Sitalces, he had no other sorrow upon his soul but for being at such a distance for her he loved: the truth is, his sorrow proceeded more from sparks of jealousy, than love, though he knew not whom to be jealous of: and this was his very reason why he could not be absent from her he loved.  
As for Agatherses, he was in a worse condition than all the rest; for his Love, his hatred, his jealousy, and his thirsty desire of revenge, would not let him enjoy one minute of rest: and which is strange, he did what he could to hide his love unto Elibesis; and to persuade all he talked to, that he hated his Rival and slighted his Mistress: yet at last, I made him confess he loved her, and made him confess in a very odd way. For telling him one day that I thought he was still in love with Elibesis, he sharply interrupted me as if I had done him the greatest injury in the world.  
How Anabaris (said he unto me) can you think I am still in love with Elibesis, since she hath preferred Ariantes before me? Since you know very well (said I unto him) that it is not the person of Ariantes which she prefers; and that it is only the glistering of that Crown which he hath promised her, which dazzles her eyes, you need not be so angry; but look upon her rather as weak than inconstant: I look upon her, (replied he angrily) as inconstant, as weak, and as perfidious both: I look upon her as one, whom I am sorry I ever loved; as one whom I never love, or to say better, as one whom I never loved at all: Should you hate your Rival any less, replied I, I should think you loved your Mistress less: but as long as I see such hot sparks of hatred and such ardent desires of revenge, I shall everthink that you either dissemble your thoughts when you say you do not love Elibesis, or that yourself doth not know them: for as soon as love ceaseth, jealousy will cease also: and that hatred which it causeth will at least grow less, if not quite extinguish. When any disputes against me (replied Agatherses) they must not allege general rules, for I declare I shall except against them all: Since it is certain I do not build upon any thing but myself, especially in matters of love. So as without examining whether jealousy cease in the hearts of others when love ceaseth, and whether hatred diminish, I only know, that though I do not love Elibesis, yet I do so extremely hate Ariantes, that I wish his ruin, and that I were in a condition to go and ask Elibesis, whether it were more advantageous to be overwhelmed under the ruins of a shattered Throne, then to wait quietly at the foot of that Throne: And maugre her ambition, I would there were in her heart one spark of that fire which once I kindled, and that it might flame higher and hotter than ever, to the end I might have the pleasure of being revenged upon her weakness and inconstancy, by telling her ingeniously that I will never love her again. Time will tell you (said I unto him) which of us two are in the right; After this, I said no more unto Agatherses, because I was resolved to put a trick upon him, and make him see that he did love Elibesis still, though he did not think he loved her. And indeed about four days after this dispute, as I was one evening in his Tent, I caused a letter to be brought unto me by one of my men, which I myself did forge, and which I received in his presence, and which after I asked his leave, I did read in a Corner of the Tent: He knowing that I had a way to receive intelligence from Issedon, he asked me if it came from thence, and I being then alone with him, I told him, that it did, and added with a serious countenance, that I wished all he told me four days since were true. I had no sooner said so, but he earnestly asked me why I said so? Before I give an answer, (said I unto him) you must tell me whether you are sure you do not love Elibesis, for if you do not, than you may read this Letter; but if you do love her, never read it, unless you have a desire to die with grief: If only that assurance be requisite (replied he hastily) give me the Letter; and as he said so, he took it, and began to read these words.  
Sir,  
WE know not here yet, whether or no Fortune will have Ariantes to be King; but in all likelihood the Gods will not let Elibesis be a Queen, for she is extremely sick, and I cannot tell whether at this hour I write, death hath not driven all ambition out of her heart: Some say, that her sorrows to see so much incertainty in the Fortunes of that Prince whom she hath preferred before Agatherses, is the cause of her malady and death: But for my part, I think her mind hath no share in the malady of her body; and I can assure you, few men know whether she grieves more for the loss of a Crown, or for the loss of Agatherses. However it be, you shall receive further upon the first occasion.  
I observed him all the while he was reading this Letter, and saw that he changed colour twenty times as he read it, yet having a high and proud Soul, though a lump of sorrow did hang like lead upon his heart, yet he gave me the Letter, and would not seem so much as troubled, but told me that now he began to be revenged, after which he was silent, and began to walk. But he no sooner took a turn in his Tent, but forgetting I was there, he began to lift up his eyes unto heaven in a fury, to stamp his foot upon the ground, and to walk sometimes fast, and sometimes slow, and to show all the signs of a most distempered man, when any thing disquiets his soul. But since I had a mind to please myself with my own trick, and desired he should know I perceived his sorrows, I told him that I was very sorry he was mistaken, and that I had showed him the Letter which caused so much saddess.  
I had no sooner said so, but he told me that I was much mistaken in him, if I thought his sorrows proceeded from any tenderness unto Elibesis; and since I must explain myself; know, that my rage proceeds rather from this, that it is not Ariantes in lieu of Elibesis which is going to the Grave: I believe it, replied I, but since Ariantes may also die in this War, I see no reason why you should grieve now, for yesterday you were not at all troubled; and therefore I must conclude, that it is the malady of Elibesis which troubles you: Yes cruel friend (said he then unto me in as much anger as sorrow) it is the malady of Elibesis that troubles me, since you will dive into my heart, and since I cannot hide it: Yes, yes, it is the malady of Elibesis which goes near my heart, and her death will certainly be mine: And I must confess, that as weak, as inconstant, and as perfidious as Elibesis is, I must follow her to the grave as soon as I have my Rival thither: I had much a do to live and not love her, but I cannot see her die without renewing my flame. After this (pitiless friend) you may triumph over my weakness, and with reason upbraid me as the weakest man alive. I shall not Sir upbraid you with your weakness (said I unto him) but I shall chide you for keeping it so secret from me: Yet Sir (added I and smiled) I must confess I was deceived as well as you, for if I had thought you had loved Elibesis, I should never have put such a trick upon you, as to forge the Letter which I showed unto you: How (said he) is not Elibesis extremely sick? No Sir, replied I, but I am sure you are sick of that disease which hath so long tormented you: Oh most cruel friend, said he unto me, tell me truly what I must trust unto, and deceive me not again, for it concerns me to know in what condition Elibesis is, that I may regulate my thoughts accordingly; for if Elibesis die, I plainly perceive that my passion will revive, and I must die with her, but if Elibesis be living and in health, I must hate her if I can, or at least seem as if I did. I must confess, I could not choose but laugh to hear Agatherses talk so: Truly Sir, said I unto him, if you do love Elibesis, you will love her living as well as dead, and if you hate her, you will hate her memory as well as her person: No, replied he, you are but a Novice in love, if you know not how to make a distinction between these two things; for Elibesis in her grave can never be enjoyed by my Rival; so as pity mollifying my heart, I shall look upon her as one who ceased to be perfidious in ceasing to live; as one who loved me, as one who loved not Ariantes, nor ever could love him. But Elibesis living as an unconstant woman who hath forsaken me, and one whom I ought to forsake, one who may make my Rival happy by his fruition of her, and one who to satisfy her ambition and vanity cares not if she make me miserable; and therefore I conclude, that I can love Elibesis in her grave, and hate her living: You may conclude what you please Sir (said I unto him) but if you will speak truly, you do love Elibesis living, and you do know it as well as I do. 'Tis true (replied he hastily) I do love her more than I thought I did, and I am so angry both against her and myself, that she should have so much power over me whether I will or no, that I hope very shame will cure me, and chase her absolutely out of my heart; and though I had no other reason but to hide my weakness from you, yet I were obliged in point of honour to cure myself, to let you see my generosity is above my love: Yes, yes, you yourself shall cause me to cure my folly, and hold me for the weakest and basest of men, if before the War end you do not see me hate Elibesis: If the War cease not before your love (replied I and laughed) it will be long before we shall have peace. After this, I seriously asked pardon for causing so much sorrow in him, and he very earnestly entreated me not to tell any living that he still loved Elibesis, for truly, said he, my affection to her is of such a nature, that though I had turned Ariantes out of his new erected Throne, though I had killed him, though I had taken Issedon, and though Elibesis were in my power, yet I had rather die then give her any testimony of my love, though I should love her better than ever I did. I do believe you think as you speak Sir, replied I, but for my particular I do not believe you, for whosoever loves, would be loved again, and do any thing in the world to obtain it; therefore I assure myself with much reason, that if Fortune do make you the Conqueror of Ariantes, yet still you will be a Slave unto Elibesis. After this Sir our discourse ceased, and since that day I have been the Confident of his most secret thoughts, though he knew I was a friend unto Adonacris. 'Tis true, he was not absolutely out with him●, for he knew very well that Elibesis did not follow the counsel of her Brother in all things, and that she only trusted to herself.  
But not to be over-tedious in particularising this War, let me only tell you Sir, that the year being far spent, both sides endeavoured to take up their Winter Quarters in their Enemy's Country; and in pursuance of these endeavours, there was more blood spilt, then in all the year before. The contest Sir was so sharp at the passage over a little River which Spargapises would maintain, that the very water seemed as if turned into blood; but at last Ariantes was forced to leave the passage unto his Enemies, and to retreat with his Troops towards Issedon: Yet since this victory did cost Spargapises very dear, and since he had more men killed then Ariantes had, he said, that true it was, he had lost his baggage and the River, but yet that Spargapises had lost so much blood in gaining it, that such another gain would ruin him: 'Tis true, maugre this rallary, that this passage which we got, was the cause of this Prince his ruin, because this obliged him to quarter himself so near Issedon, that all about it were undone; the Inhabitants murmured, and this caused us to seek for better quarters, and a more firtil Country.  
In the mean time Sir, Adonacris was taken Prisoner by Agatherses, and Sitalces by Ariantes. Ariantes sent Sitalces unto Issedon, and Spargapises sent Adonacris unto a Town called Typanis, where that Prince would quarter in the Winter, for he would not return to the Tents Royal, because it was too far from his Army. Thus Sir, Fortune brought Adonacris and Noromata together, who as I told you before, had orders from her Husband to stay there until the end of the War: I being the friend of Adonacris, did him all the good offices I could; 'tis true, he stood in no great need of me, for Agatherses moved Spargapises to treat him so well, that he was suffered to go about upon his parol as soon as he came to Tipanis: You may well conceive Sir, that Adonacris did not think his confinement very rigorous, since he was so near his dear Noromata; and on the contrary, you may well think that Sitalces who loved his wife very well, and who was of a jealous temper, did resent his with abundance of grief. Yet Adonacris was much vexed at the loss of his baggage, because all the Letters which Noromata writ unto him before she was married, were amongst it; yet since he had found her, he cheered up himself, and could not imagine the Soldiers could do him any ill office. Argirispe also was much troubled at the imprisonment of Adonacris; but as for Noromata Sir, I must needs tell you a little more precisely how she knew that her Husband was Prisoner unto Ariantes, and her Lover unto Agatherses, for truly this strange chance did produce such a fine adventure, that I think fit not to omit the least circumstance. Be pleased to know then Sir, that the news of this great fight being carried unto Tipanis, it was there published, as commonly they use to do all great actions, to wit, with a thousand false circumstances; sometimes men are killed who are still alive, some are mortally wounded, who are only Prisoners, and some are reported to be Prisoners who are at liberty, and some again who are never spoken of are Prisoners wounded & dead: Insomuch as after the rate of such confused uncertain news, where truth and lies are so all mixed together, that nothing is certain: As soon as it was said in Tipanis that the Armies had fought, it was reported that Sitalces was wounded and taken Prisoner, and that Adonacris was dead: You may imagine Sir how this news surprised and grieved Noromata, she that was all virtue, of a most tender soul, possessed with a violent passion, could not hear her Husband was wounded and a Prisoner without some sorrow, though she did not love him, nor hear Adonacris was dead with extreme grief, yet it was some advantage unto her, that she had now some pretence for her sorrows, and an apparent cause to ask news, and satisfy herself in all circumstances, which indeed she did with extreme earnestness: So that since there was no place where she could so soon and certainly know news from the Army, then from the Wife unto the Governor of Tipanis, whose name was Eliorante, and who was one of the most accomplished Ladies in the world, and the most generous, so she went immediately unto her: Yet since she was not fully satisfied of what she desired to know, she resolved to go thither every day until certain news came from the Army: But she durst not ask any thing concerning Adonacris, and though she knew that their affections had been carried very closely, yet she had not the boldness to inquire, but hoped that in ask of all the dead, the Prisoners, and the wounded in general, and of her Husband in particular, she should hear some certainty of him she desired to hear: So as in this hope, she went, as I told you before, unto Eliorante, not only the same day the news was divulged, but the next day, and the day after that.  
As she was with this Lady, there came a Post, which confirmed the news of the fight, and of Spargapises Victory; and who assured Noromata that her Husband was a Prisoner, but not wounded: So that Eliorante in rejoicing with her, told her she had reason to be glad it was no worse with her Husband, since the worst half of the bad news was not true. Since Noromata was very rational, she would have consented unto what Eliorante said, if nothing else had disquieted her mind; but being most sensibly troubled at what she durst not make appear, she was glad she had a colour for the molancholy which she could not banish from her eyes do what she could; and therefore she told Eliorante, that though she was very glad to hear that Sitalces was not wounded, yet she could not choose but grieve at his being a Prisoner: However; she cared not so much what she said unto Eliorante, as she harkened with an attentive ear unto what the Post said unto the Governor of Tipanis, whose name was Aritaspes, and who was then in his Wife's Chamber: And she confusedly heard him say, that the Prisoners were coming, and that there was one whom Spargapises would have let go about the Town upon his parol, and be used very well. But as soon as she heard this, there was heard a great noise of men who talked loud in a great Plain before the Governors' house: Presently after, the noise drew nearer, and passed from that Plain to the Court, from the Court to the Stairs, and from the Stairs unto the outer Chamber, at last they came to tell Aritaspes, that the Prisoners which Spargapises had sent were come, and that there was some men of Quality amongst them, who were in the outer Chamber. As soon as this was said, all the Ladies that were with Eliorante, except Noromata, pressed her to desire Aritaspes that the Prisoners might come into the Chamber. But as for Noromata, since she always feared to hear of Adonacris his death, she was not desirous of it; but on the contrary, not daring to trust her constancy, she offered to go away; saying, She had no interest in the news, since she knew of Sitalces as much as she desired to know: But Eliorante stayed her; and told her very gallantly, that it belonged unto her more than any other to entertain the Prisoners very well, since her Husband was in the same condition: For said she, It's credible that the same usage we shall show unto those which are sent unto us, the same will the Prince Ariantes show unto those under his power: So that Noromata not daring to resist any longer stayed: And Eliorante desiring Aritaspes to satisfy the curiosity of all the Ladies who had a desire to see the Prisoners, he told them smiling, that though he should thereby more expose them to be their Prisoners, than the Prisoners of Spargapises, yet he would satisfy them. And then commanding them to enter, the Lieutenant of Spargapises Guard who conducted them appeared first; after him, Adonacris entered in the head of ten or twelve Officers, and he entered with so good a grace, and such a noble air, as it was easy to know he had sold his liberty very dear, and that his captivity was no shame unto him: You may well think Sir, how Noromata was surprised at the sight of Adonacris, whom she thought dead; to see Adonacris whom she had not seen since they were so kind together, since they were both married, and since they thought never to write unto each other again, nor see one another as long as they lived. The surprise of Adonacris was as great, for though he knew Noromata was at Tipanis, yet he did not think to find her in that place. Moreover, so it chanced, that the first person who saw Adonacris, was Noromata, and also he saw her very sad: And though he knew not the true cause of that sadness which appeared in her countenance, yet he was well satisfied that she seemed displeased at her fortune; for he did not then think that she could be so melancholy for the imprisonment of Sitalces; but thinking to make this moment of happiness to himself, he interpreted that blush which appeared in the cheeks of Noromata when she first saw him unto his own advantage; and indeed I understood by a Lady who was my friend, and present at this interview, and who knew all the secrets of this affection, that Noromata blushed in such a manner, as it was easy to perceive, that she who blushed was not displeased, for her eyes grew more lively, and such a joy did spread itself so all over her face, that it presently made a deep impression upon the heart of ●donacris: Indeed Sir, there was something so passionate, and so significative in the looks of these two persons at this unthought of meeting, that they told each other without design, that they loved one another still, that they would love always, and that they were both very miserable: However, the first unpremeditated thought which last not long, being over, the virtuous Noromata, after she had blushed for love, did blush again for shame at her weakness, and did so strive with herself, that she shunned the eyes of Adonacris, and assumed unto her own the same sadness which appeared in them before he came in; and it was the more easy to be done, because her joys to see Adonacris living, whom she thought to be dead, were tempered with her sorrows, that she could not innocently either love him, or be loved. And this thought did so imprint itself upon her soul, as it cost her many a sigh. Think upon it Noromata (said she then unto herself) Consider well what thou wouldst do, and what thou oughtest to do: Adonacris is amiable, it's true, and thou dost love him more than thou oughtest to do: But for all that, since thou dost love him without power of doing otherwise, thou lovest him without a Crime, provided he know it not, and provided thou never lets him know it; but on the contrary shun him, as if thou didst hate him. Consider Noromata, that it concerns thy glory, and to preserve thy virtue, consider that thy Father knows Adonacris loved thee at Issedon, and that if thou dost suffer him to see thee at thy own house, he cannot choose but have thoughts which will be disadvantageous to thee: But especially consider, that Adonacris will esteem thee less, if thou shouldst give him any testimonies of thy affection, then if thou be'st only upon terms of indifferency with him: And out of a more Noble resentment consider, that thou wouldst esteem thyself less, and that whosoever does not esteem themselves, can never he happy, nor merit the esteem of others.  
Whilst Noromata was thus reasoning with herself, one would have thought she studied so profoundly, that her study had no object, and as if her mind was far off any thing about her: So that after Aritaspes had spoken unto all the Prisoners, and told Adonacris that he had orders to lodge him at his own house, and to give him all the Town of Tipanis for his Prison, and to let him pass upon his parol, he turned towards Noromata, who as I told you, seemed to be in a deep study: For ought I see Madam (said he unto her) you care not for seeing the Prisoners of the Prince Spargapises, but I believe you think more upon those that are prisoners unto the Prince Ariantes, and think more upon Sitalces whom you see not, then upon Adonacris whom you do see, though I think you knew him at Issedon: 'Tis very true Sir (replied Noromata with a trembling heart, though not seeming so) that I am thinking upon Sitalces: And I am thinking also upon Adonacris (added she with incredible resolution) but it is how to get an exchange between him and Sitalces.  
The discourse of Noromata did so much surprise Adonacris, that he knew not what to answer: 'Tis true, his silence was not observed, for Eliorante beginning to speak, she gave him time to recollect himself. The design you have Madam, of releasing two such gallant men at once (said she unto Noromata) is so noble and worthy yourself, that I believe there is none but will do you what service they can unto Thomiris, and Spargapises: And if the friends of Adonacris will solicit with yours, it is to be hoped you will very shortly have the joy of seeing Sitalces, and the sorrow of parting from Adonacris. If his imprisonment be no worse than mine (said Adonacris) a liberty which will be disadvantageous to his side, is not to be wished: So that Madam, since Sitalces is more considerable in the party of Thomiris, than I am in Ariantes, I shall not murmur though I be not exchanged for a man, who may more hurt my side by his valour, than I can serve it by mine. And therefore I shall never solicit for my liberty, but leave it unto the consideration of the Prince whom I serve.  
This answer is so modest, so generous and so gallant (replied Aritaspes and smiled) that you could not be more ingenious if you were a prisoner unto one of these Ladies: However Sir, (added he, and gave him no time to reply) though the fetters you are to have will not be so heavy, as those which they perhaps would impose upon you, yet I think its fit I carry you unto a place where you may rest yourself: And accordingly Aritaspes preparing himself to go out, did put Adonacris before him, though a Prisoner, and conducted him into a very noble room.  
After which, he took all requisite orders for the rest of the Prisoners, who were not to pass upon their Parol▪ as Adonacris was. But Sir, I forgot to tell you that Noromata did hold her countenance so resolutely, when Adonacris saluted her in going out of Eliorantes chamber, that he saw no more in her eyes than when he first entered; only a cold and serious civility, which had struck him into despair, had he not remembered her passionate tenderness which he saw a quarter of an hour before. Also he thought that perhaps the presence of so many persons made her restrain herself: but he was quickly deprived of that consolation: for being lodged in a Chamber which opened into the Court, wherein was a Balcone not very high, he stayed in it in hopes to see Noromata as she went out: And indeed his hope was not deceived; for she having more disquiet thoughts than she imagined she could master; she went out as soon as Adonacris came into the Balcone: But though he saluted her with all imaginable respect, and followed her with his eyes, not only till she was in the Coach, but also till the Coach was out of the Court; he could obtain no more from her, but only a civil congee without any looks of her eye or sign with her head, or wagging of hand, which he could interpret to his advantage: so that he went out of the Balcone very sadly. However, the first looks of Noromata made such a sensible impression in him, and so well persuaded him that she did not hate him, that he knew not what construction to make upon this last coldness. Let it be as it will (said he to himself, as he told me since) the best I can think of it is, that Noromata would not have me know she doth not hate me.  
But alas, my dear Noromata (added he) If I be so happy as not to be hated, all your hollow cold treatments will be in vain; for I shall discern whether your expressions of hatred be caused by a real aversion, or by prudence only. After this, Adonacris began to cast about how to see her, and to see her in private; for he still found her so fair, that his love still augmented; yet this love as violent as it was, still was all purity: And Adonacris was so well acquainted with the virtue of Noromata, that he set most severe limits unto his desires; so that being full persuaded of the innocency in his affection, he thought Noromata might and ought to answer him: And imagining an unexpressable joy, if he could once in his life hear from the mouth of Noromata, that he was not hated, he thought upon nothing else but how to speak with her, when none could hear but herself. But whilst he was contriving how to bring this to pass, Noromata was thinking how to avoid all conversation with him: as for seeing her, she saw she could not. And indeed she could not go out of Tipanis, during the war: nor could she leave off her visits unto Eliorantes and the rest of her friends, without giving them cause to ask her reason: All she had to do was, not to see Adonacris at her own lodging, and to shun him if she met him any where else: yet she found so great a repugnancy to take this course, that any other virtue besides hers would have submitted unto a Passion so tender and strong. However Noromata did surmount herself, but not her inclination, though she did all she could to overcome it: until now she only endeavoured to love Adonacris; but now seeing the danger greater, she endeavoured to force her heart unto a love of Sitalces, but alas, she could not.  
But her virtue finding an ample Subject to make itself appear, she resolved to do as much for Sitalces, as if she had loved him better than herself: but to do nothing for Adonacris: And so neglect no means which might procure an exchange for her husband, though his presence was most grievous, and the presence of Adonacris most agreeable to her. Noromata did not resolve upon this rashly and tumultuously, but upon mature examination and consideration of it a whole night together without a wink of sleep, until at last, the weariness of her spirits compelled her. But when she waked, she received in one quatter of an hour, three letters of different styles, which came from three different Persons: For a Post from Agatherses which came to advertise Aritaspes, that the Prince Spargapises and himself would shortly come unto Tipanis, did bring her one from Sitalces at Issedon, whether Agatherses had sent the man to inquire of one of his friends, who could not be found either amongst the wounded or dead, or amongst the living on his side: the second was from Argirispes, who conceived her to solicit as zealously at Tipanis for the liberty of Adonacris, as she would do at Issedon, for the liberty of Sitalces. And the third was from Adonacris, which a servant unto this prisoner had given unto one of her women by another name, than that of his masters, and without staying for an answer: for Adonacris feared lest Noromata should send it back sealed as soon as she saw the character of the superscription. So that the virtuous Noromata finding all at once, a letler from her Lover, one from her husband and another from Argirispe, she was in a strange perplexity; had she honoured her own inclination, she had opened that from Adonacris and had looked upon that from Sitalces the last: Yet this virtuous Lady surmounting herself, resolved not to open the letter from Adonacris at all, to read that from Sitalces, and, then that from Argirispes: So throwing upon the Table, that letter which came from the hand of him that was most dear unto her, she opened her husbands, but opened it with a sigh, and was long before she was able to read it, so sad was her soul: but at last having read it, she found some expression of affection, and some of civility: but Sitalces having no polite faculty in writing, though he had wit enough, these civilities had neither any tenderness nor gallantry in them; only as much as might come from a husband, who natural was not gallant, and from one who valued his liberty more than any thing else; yet indeed there was some expressions of Love in his Letter, but truly very little obliging: for he bluntly intimated unto her how he was troubled that Spargapises and the whole Court would winter at Tipanis, and that she was like to have so much good company: Adding afterwards several directions concerning his liberty and his estate, with as much familiarity as if they had been married ten years, though God knows, they had been only three poor days together.  
So after Noromata had read it with many a sigh, and looked upon the Letter from Adonacris which lay upon the Table; Alas (said she to herself) what a difference is there between that Letter and this I have read? yet I must not look into it, but do all which this I have read appoints me: Upon second thoughts, she found some danger in trusting any one to carry it back unto him; and thought it more convenient to give it handsomely unto him herself, the first time she met him at Eliorantes, where she imagined to meet him soon: So that taking up the Letter, she put it in her pocket, and began to read that from Argirispes. But as she confessed since, she read it with a trembling heart; for as oft as she found the name of Adonacris, she blushed, and could not choose but entertain some thoughts which had something of hatred and jealousy in them; and wished that Adonacris loved Argirispes no better than she loved Sitalces: yet in a minute after, she condemned these thoughts, and not shrinking a jot from her virtue and best resolution, she went unto a public sacrifice which was that day offered upon a little hill full of trees which was within the Town: For you know Sir, we never use to sacrifice but under the great Canopy of Heaven; our Father's believing that men cannot build a Temple worthy of the Gods: nor do we use to sacrifice so often as other People; it being only once a month that these public acts of Piety are performed: So that Noromata going that day unto the sactifice, and principally to ask the God's power to overcome the passion of her soul; she came unto the foot of the hill, about which was built great magnificent Galleries, under which the Ladies used to shade themselves from the heat of the Sun: our Religion requiring only the sacrificers, and those who assist them to be under the open Heavens: Yet some of our Ladies who are of a precise Piety and scrupulous Consciences never go into these Galleries, but when it is either excessively hot, or excessively cold: So that Noromata, who was very full of devotion, placed herself that day amongst the multitude with many other Ladies of quality. Her devotion was not disturbed by the presence of Adonacris, for Aritaspes kept him with him: but she prayed unto the Gods with so much serenity of soul and tranquillity of spirit, that she thought she obtained from them a new strength, and went home with intentions to go unto Eliorantes as soon as she had dined, purposely to find a fit opportunity of giving back the Letter unto Adonacris; and accordingly as soon as she did rise from the Table, she commanded her Coach to be made ready: And to the end Adonacris should not think she had the least design of kindling any flame in his heart, she went in a very careless and negligent dress, pretending the imprisonment of her husband; But though her habit was simple; and though she wore only five or six careless curls of her hair on either side, yet since she could not choose but be handsome, she appeared to be as handsome without, as with a dress: But as she looked herself in a glass, to see if she was as negligent in her dress as she would be, she did hide some of her curls under her hood, thinking them too gallant for one who had a design not to please, though she wished in her heart that Adonacris would not hate her.  
But whilst she was consulting with her Mirror to see herself dressed carelessly enough, she signed, remembering how circumspect she had formerly been at Issedon to please Adonacris. But at last, she left her glass, and went into her closet, to see out of the observance of her women, whether she had the Letter in her pocket; and found that the seal had been crushed open in the press during the sacrifice: so that she could not restore it unto Adonacris sealed. At the first, she was extremely vexed at herself, and held it a long while in hand before she would read it: But at last, considering though she should restore it back unread, yet he would think she had read it, therefore she resolved to read it. But first, she examined herself what reason she had so to do? For (said she to herself) canst thou think Noromata, that Adonacris would ever have writ unto thee to tell thee of thy injuries, and to give thee causes of hating him? Hast thou not seen in his eyes, that the same passion which is in thy heart against thy will, is also in his? Why then shouldest thou read his Letter? wilt thou thyself tempt thy own virtue? Thou knowest, that thou hast resolved to die a thousand deaths, rather than to do any thing unworthy of thyself; and yet thou art ready to read a Letter from a man whom thou knowest doth love thee; and which is strangest, from a man, whom thou knowest thou dost not hate. After this, Noromata fell into a deep serious study, afterwards resolving to keep close unto her former principles, what tenderness soever she found in the Letter, she did read it, and found these words:  
ADONACRIS unto NOROMATA.  
Madam,  
DId I not know that I have not the least thought which is unworthy of your virtue, I should never assume the boldness to beg a private audience, that I may tell you what my heart thinks upon the injustice which you have done me.  
But being sure that I do not entertain one thought that can offend you, I conjure you Madam, to grant me so much favour as once before I die, to tell you what I have suffered, and what I do suffer for you. And to oblige you, not to deny me, I do solemnly protest unto you Madam, that I love you without any desires or hopes; and if you please, I will never speak unto you of that passion, which is and ever will be in my soul, as long as I live: Provided you will give me leave, only to put you in memory of what it was, when once you thought it innocent. Thus ask you nothing, neither for the present nor the future, and desiring no other favour, but only to talk with you of a thing that's past, doubtless you would be unjust, if you should deny me. But Madam, If you will deny me, I beseech you forbid me yourself from telling you that I do love you still, more than ever any did or could. For Madam, I must profess, that if you should by your silence make me understand, it is not your pleasure I should tell you as much, I would not obey you. No Madam, though your fair eyes, as powerful as they are, should tell me as much a thousand times, in that mute and rigorous language. The truth is Madam, it is so difficult a thing, not to speak of a malady unto the Person, for whose sake it is endured, that I had need to receive this Commande●en in such a manner as may force me to obedience. You know Madam, what power you ever had over me: I protest it is not lessoned; and whatsoever you command me, I shall obey, provided I receive the command from your own mouth, and provided you do not forbid me to love you, until the death of  
ADONACRIS.  
This Letter being full of tenderness and respect, Noromata could not read it without a sigh; and she hath told me since that she was never in all her life, in a greater perplexity than after this: But for all that, this Letter which at first she would not read, she now read it thrice over; and read it with such resentments as she was never able to express: for she was extreme sad after the reading it, but it was such a sadness, as had such a satisfaction in it, as made the same thing which grieved, not to displease her. However, after she had spent a quarter of an hour upon the Love of Adonacris, she revived out of her weakness, as out of a Lethargy of Spirit: And tearing the Letter in pieces; I would to the gods, said she, I were as well able to tear my tenderness unto Adonacris out of my heart, as I am to tear this testimony of his affection.  
After this, altering her design of going unto Eliorantes, she said, that she would not go abroad, nor see any body, having no mind to expose herself so soon unto the sight of Adonacris. But to vex her, one came to tell her from Eliorantes, that if she would write unto Sitalces she could send her Letter, so it was written presently. Thus Noromata, whose fancy was filled with the conceit of a Letter from her Lover whom she loved, was forced to answer her husbands, whom she loved not; and did so with much ado. She began her Letter five or six several times before she could end it: for though she had Sitalces letter before her, purposely to give a punctual answer unto every Article; yet that from Adonacris was so imprinted in her thoughts, that she writ rather unto Adonacris, than Sitalces: but at last being angry against herself, she overcame it, and writ unto her husband with much respect; also answered Argirispes with much civility: After which she undressed herself and went to bed, as a pretence of seeing no body, no not so much as her own women. And to that end, she said she was troubled with an extreme pain in her head, which silence, darkness and sleep would cure. So as her women shut up all the windows and drew the curtains very close, and so left her at liberty to think upon the malady which tormented her: To tell you Sir, all that Noromata did both against herself and Adonacris, would be a very hard task: For truly all that a Person of a great Spirit, of a great courage and of a great virtue could think or do to quench the flames of a violent passion, Noromata did; and carried herself so towards Adonacris, that he could not so much as guests she desired he should love her.  
In the mean time, since she thought it not expedient to let him know her mind at the first by her proceedings; she shunned seeing him, and told it the next day that she was not well, and that she would see no body: so that by this means Adonacris came many times to see her, and miss of his aims, nor could he so much as know whether or no, she had received his Letter. And he feared extremely, that he was deceived when he believed that Noromata did not hate him. On the other side Aritaspes being advertised that the young Spargapises would come the next day, he went to meet him with all the Gallantry of Tipanis: But though all the honours of the victory were done unto Spargapises, yet it was Agatherses who deserved them: for Spargapises was so young, as he was absolutely uncapable of any high actions on commendations for them, but only followed the advice of the wise Terez and Agatherses: So that as soon as he came to Tipanis, Agatherses who to oblige Adonacris the more, and to make Elibesis the more ashamed, he presented him unto Spargapises, who as he was advised, received him very civilly. Thus the conqueror, and the conquered, lived together with extreme civility; and Adonacris was more obliged unto that young Prince than if he had given him his liberty: for be pleased to know Sir, that Agatherses telling him it was fit he should visit Noromata, whose husband was prisoner in his cause, he went the same hour unto her, and offered unto her his best service in getting the liberty of Sitalces.  
And Adonacris having that evening had a great deal of discourse with Agatherses, and letting him know that he never contributed unto the ambition of Elibesis, there was such a correspondency between them, that Agatherses asked him if he would wait upon Spargapises unto Noromata: Adonacris joyfully accepting the offer, did accompany this young Prince unto this fair one, who feigning to be ill, did sit upon her bed to receive this visit, little thinking Adonacris had been th●re: But when she saw him, and had looked him in the face, her disorder was so great that she changed colour, imagining that he would interpret all her thoughts into his own advantage. But being a person of a most resolute spirit, and a great soul, she instantly recollected herself: And seeming to take no notice of Adonacris she answered unto the civilities of Spargipises concerning the imprisonment of her husband. But to do it in such a manner as might let Adonacris know, (whom she saw harkening very attentively) that she had all the thoughts, which a modest wife ought to have upon the like occasion, she thanked Spargapises with a most respective civility, for all his offers; conjuring him with abundance of earnestness, to do all he could for the liberty of her husband.  
But Sir, added she, it is not here I should make this Petition to you; the first day I stir out, shall be to beseech you, you would be pleased to grant me one of your Prisoners, that I may propound an exchange unto the Prince Ariantes between him and Sitalces. You need not stay so long Madam, replied Agatharses (seeing Spargapises knew well how far he ought to satisfy Noromata's request) for I suppose the Prince hath already granted your request. Spargapises then imagining by what Agatherses said, that he ought not to deny her, did confirm what Agatherses said; and asked her the name of that Prisoner whom she desired to propound unto Ariantes in exchange of Sitalces. Sir, said she then, and blushed, I should have some hopes of my husband's liberty, if you would be pleased to grant me Adonacris, since it is very probable Ariantes will not let the brother of the fair Elibesis, be a Prisoner: As Noromata could not name Adonacris, without a blush, so Adonacris could not hear himself named without a blush also, especially upon such a cross conjecture. However, he knew not how to oppose his liberty directly; and his expression of gallantry which he used in Eliorantes chamber when Noromata spoke of his exchange for Sitalces, was not fit to be spoken seriously. Yet being a business which he could not consent unto, nor indeed reject, unless in Raillery: he addressed his discourse unto Noromata; Truly Madam, said he unto her and smiled, I believe that Sitalces will not be pleased at your motion, and he had rather be a Prisoner than be exchanged for me: This modesty is so strangely excessive (replied Noromata but looked not upon him) that I have reason to think you speak by contraries: but be it as it will, since the Prince is pleased to grant me my desire it shall be the Prince Ariantes who shall decide the matter, who I believe will decide it according to my wish; since it is not credible he can deny the fair Elibesis to break off your fetters at the instance of one, who doubtless hath zealously importuned him to it: So as I beseech you give me leave to hope that you will very shortly be at liberty, and that I shall very shortly see Sitalces return.  
After this, Spargapises not using to make any long visits, especially when they are only Ceremonious, he did rise up without giving Adonacris any time to reply unto Noromata: and he went to view some places in the Town which Agatherses thought fit to be fortified: And Adonacris not thinking it fit for him to follow him unto that place, he stayed with some others at the door of Noromata's house: But since it was the custom of men to part without any Ceremony in such occasions, those who stayed talking with Adonacris, having some business to go about, they left him alone with his own men at the gate where he was, so that seeing it still open, and imagining that Noromata might expect his reentry, and that she would not deny him entrance into her chamber, he went in boldly, and going up the stairs he saw the door of Noromata's chamber open; so that without any more delay he went towards the bed where she was sitting. But to delude her women, and indeed herself consenting, Madam, (said he upon his first address) The Prince Spargapises hath sent me back unto you, to talk of some things which concerns you to know, before he send unto Ariantes concerning the exchange of Sitalces: and therefore I beseech you, Madam, permit me a quarter of an hours audience. Noromata did so wonder to see Adonacris again, as in that disorder she had not handsome pretence of denying that request: And fearing that her women would think her not zealous for her husband's liberty, if she did not hear him, she was forced to answer him as though she did believe him, though indeed she did not: And indeed I'm persuaded that Noromata for all her virtue, was not very sorry she had found an occasion of talking once again in her life in private with Adonacris, herself not contributing unto it. So that seeming as I told you before to believe Spargaprises sent him, she made him sit down and prepared herself for audience. And to make this conference more free, her women who were extremely desirous to tell others, that Spargapises had promised to set their Master at liberty, went into their Mistress Wardrobe to talk with other women who were there. So that leaving the door open that they might hear Noromata if she called; Adonacris saw them go into the Wardrobe, and that he had all the liberty he could desire of talking with his dear Noromata; who not taking notice of her women, had such a trembling at her heart, that she neither knew what she saw, nor what she should think of herself.  
But at last, after Adonacris had silently looked upon her with as much grief as love: I hope Madam, (said he unto her with a sigh) that since Fortune hath brought me unto you, you will not banish me: I beseech you Madam consider of your injustice to me, and treat me not so. If I were still the same I was at Issedon (replied Noromata modestly) doubtless I should be unjust in doing so; but Sir, since I am not now what I was then, no nor you yourself the same, certainly I must do nothing but what becomes my duty: and if I have any power over you, I both conjure and beseech you with all my heart to go away, to come no more at my house, to shun seeing me any where else as much as you can, and to endeavour your liberty with as much zeal as I shall: Your power over me Madam, is such, replied he, that if it be your positive pleasure to do as you say, I shall endeavour to do what I can to obey you: But first Madam I beseech you hearken unto all my reasons: Let me acquaint you with the present state of my soul; examine your own a little, and by calling to memory what is past, you may the better know what to do in the future. Moreover Madam, I beseech you deny me not what I shall ask; for if you do, I profess though I would yet I cannot obey you: Then you have writ me a lie, replied she when you sent me word that provided I did myself forbid you seeing me, you would obey: I say it again Madam, (added he) but before you do forbid me any thing. I beseech you hear me: upon condition that this shall be the last time (replied she) I will hear what you please. I shall tell you then Madam, replied he, That you have done me the greatest injustice in the world in forsaking me for Sitacles; for truly Madam, I am fully persuaded, that when I had the honour to see you at Issedon, you did not then dissemble your thoughts, when your goodness was pleased to testify, that those thoughts which I had of you did not displease you: Also I remember very well, that the last day I had the honour to see you, your eyes did then bestow more obliging glimpses upon me than ever before; insomuch as their language permitted me to hope for happiness: But when Fortune once separated me from you, you Madam, made me the most miserable man alive; and Sitalces who certainly knows not the excellency of that Treasure which he enjoys, was preferred before me. Had I voluntarily preferred Sitalces before you Sir, (replied she) certainly I had been much to blame; though you had been much his inferior in all accomplishments; for than I should have been branded with inconstancy and perfidy: But alas, Adonacris (pursued she and sighed) I am not so; since surely I should be much happier than I am, if I were more unblamable; and I am afraid that if I were more unblamable towards you, I were more innocent: For truly, you have no reason to upbraid me, and I obeyed my Father with so much unwillingness, and married Sitalces with so much repugnancy, that I may very well doubt, you had a little too far engaged my heart; and I have the more reason to chide my own weakness, by how much I know you have been charmed by the fair Argirispes: Alas Madam, said he, can you blame me for marrying Argirispes after you had married Sitalces? I do not accuse you Sir, of any crime (replied she): But truly I do accuse myself, lest you should; Nay, nay, Madam, replied he, I will not excuse myself; but confess that I did not love Argirispes when I married her, and that I did not marry her until you had first married Sitalces, and was so civil as to forsake me.  
I do ingeniously confess (I say,) that I ought not to have married her, but aught to have disobeyed both Ariantes and my Father, and rejected the advice of all my friends: I confess also I did you wrong, in hoping that the enjoyment of Argirispes could never comfort me for the loss of you, but aught ever to continue desperate of all comforts: But for all this Madam, though I have failed in my duty, yet I failed with abundance of sorrow, and have failed without any inconstancy or perfidiousness. However it be Sir, (said Noromata and interrupted him) since you are now the husband of Argirispes, and I the wife of Sitalces, I ought not to entertain the least spark of your affection, nor give you the the least glimpse of yours: but aught if it be possible never to see you again. Oh Madam, (cried Adonacris) you never did love me, if you be able to do so.  
To testify unto you, replied Noromata, that I exact no great difficulties from you Sir, I will with a blush confess that I did love you more than ever I did tell you, and that you are still not so indifferent unto me as you imagine, or as you ought to be: But let me tell you after all this, that though I loved you more than ever any did, and though I hated Sitalces worse than a toad, yet I shall do what now I am resolved upon, out of a resentment of honour; and indeed I ought to do it out of another reason than it: for truly Adonacris, what sweetness can you find in seeing me eternally miserable? and what pleasure can I have in seeing you for ever unfortunate? and therefore it is much better to do what I ought, than otherwise: for since it is the pleasure of Fortune, that I must never be happy: yet let me however be innocent, and let me know that I did not deserve so sad a fate. To hear you to speak Madam, (said he unto her) would make one think that you suspect my affection to be of some vicious strain: but know Madam, I beseech you, that my soul is not capable of any such thoughts: know that I do really love you without the least pretence or hope, but only not to be hated. I am contented, if you please that your affection to me only be only a little kind of tender amity, provided only you will let me love you more zealously than ever any did: Live still eternally happily with Sitalces, since it is the pleasure of the Gods, you should be his, and if I can, I will live well with Argyrispe, since my cross fate hath obliged me unto it: But Madam, since I can never give her my heart, let me keep it for you: Let me do that, I say which you cannot hinder me from doing, and put me not to a necessity of disobeying you. What I desire Madam, is, me thinks, but a small thing, since I am contented with your being only my friend, with a provision of letting me to be eternally your lover. You may phrase my love by what Epithet you please; call it esteem, friendship or tenderness, if you will, provided you will let me see you, let me love you, and let me think it my chiefest felicity to be near you. Of so many beauties which Sitalces enjoys in you, I ask only some of those favourable looks which heretofore were wont to afford me so many sweet minutes: Oh Madam, I beseech you consider well upon what I ask, your eyes by looking favourably upon me will not be less sweet unto Sitalces, and when he looks upon you, he will never find my image there; if I should happily desire any thing that were criminal, you may have some handsome pretence of some denying; for truly if I should desire often occasions of talking with you in private, any suspicious meetings, though happily innocent, you might then tell me that I did hazard your reputation: But alas Madam, I desire nothing from you, but that you will not hate me, that you will not dissemble your thoughts, that you will let me love you, and that you will not turn away your fair eyes when they accidentally look upon mine: In short Madam, do not seek me, nor do not shun me, suffer me only to see you, and do not complain against me: Let me, I say, see you without any affectation, as a thousand others do, and that I may talk to you when chance lends me an occasion: If you will, I will not so long as I live tell you that I love you, only content myself with saying, that once I did love you: But truly Madam, if you should turn me to despair, I may happily do such things as will displease you; therefore I beseech you be not so zealous in your solicitation for my liberty, in exchange for Sitalces, for it would be a piece of inhumanity to break those Chains which fetter me as a Prisoner of War, since you can break those Chains which fetter me as a prisoner of Love: Leave the business unto fortune, and oppose not my comfort of seeing you: You have already done enough as the wife of Sitalces, and if you will do as you ought, you must not negotiate any more for him, since you cannot solicit for him unless with strange inhumanity you solicit against me: The truth is Madam, I shall die if you deliver me; I much more desire death, than liberty, since I cannot have it without losing you.  
Whilst Adonacris was talking thus, Noromata looked down with her eyes, and was in a most unconceivable torment of thoughts. However, since glory did exceedingly quash the tenderness of her soul, she would not be persuaded, and she told Adonacris so resolutely, that she would earnestly solicit for the delivery of Sitalces, that he plainly perceived he could not prevail with her: But Madam, said he then, since you will have Sitalces released, I beseech you solicit for his liberty and not mine: There are so many other Prisoners in your Party, for whom you get his exchange, that unless you be obstinately resolved to deny me all things, you will not deny me this. Ah Adonacris, replied she, I perceive you do not know the depth of my heart; for truly (if I could speak it without a blush) I should tell you, and confess, that if decency would permit it, I would solicit your return unto Issedon, without bringing Sitalces back unto Tipanis, and would easily be out of his sight, so I might never see you again. However, you ought to be so far from murmuring at what I say, that you are much obliged to me. But Adonacris, after I have confessed that your presence is terrible to me, and that it is a matter most hard to see and to hate you, I must resolve never to see you again, as long as I live, but when I cannot prevent it, and therefore I must even now begin to conjure you to be gone: Let me tell you Madam (said he unto her) that I cannot go until you have promised not to stifle your light inclination to me, and until you promise not to be offended if I do not endeavour my liberty so earnestly as you do. But Sir, said Noromata, if you do not endeavour it, people will have great reason to wonder, and dive into a cause so extraordinary, therefore Adonacris you must endeavour it: Ah Madam, said he, you can never move me to it: And since by denying me all, you give me a right to deny you something, I assure you that in this I cannot do as you desire; and if I be released, or to say better banished, it shall be only your Act not mine. After this, Adonacris expressed himself so tenderly unto Noromata, as that fair and virtuous person, not being able to hear him without much tenderness of heart, she began to be angry with herself, and commanded Adonacris so peremptorily to retire, that he was constrained to obey her: But Madam, said he (as she rose up) when will you give me leave to speak unto you? I will give you leave to bid me farewell (said she unto him) the same day you are to depart from Tipanis to Issedon in exchange of Sitalces. Oh Madam, said he, the limits of your virtue are too harshly narrow, and you are all cruelty in saying so. I know not whether it be cruelty to say so, but I am sure my thoughts tell me that I ought to speak as I do. Then Madam, said he unto her, tell me how I should interpret your words: interpret them as you please, replied she, so you will be immediately gone, so you will not return hither again, and so you will never seek for me any where else.  
I promise you Madam, replied he, to do you all I am able to obey you; but in promising that, I promise nothing: for I cannot choose but court all opportunities of seeing you. After this Noromata did so expressly command him to go out of her chamber, that he did obey her. But he obeyed not till after he had looked Noromata in the face a long while without giving one word; and till he discovered in her fair eyes, that her heart and tongue did not agree, and that she banished him with much sorrow. But away he went the saddest Lover in the world, and left her also in the same condition: For the truth is, she loved Adonacris more than ever: But for all that, having a high and virtuous soul, she checked the tenderness of her affection; and the next morning she claimed promise of Spargapises, and solicited Agatherses to send immediately unto Ariantes about the exchange of Adonacris for Sitalces. And the amorous Adonacris, seeing how earnestly Noromata solicited, his grief increased.  
But since Love is a passion which can find expedients for all occasions, Adonacris found one out to hinder his own and Sitalces liberty: for it was a grand cordial unto his passioonate soul to be near Noromata, though he never saw her but incensed: so that to hinder the happiness of Sitalces, and to make himself a little less miserable by hindering his liberty he sent secretly unto Issedon, and writ unto Ariantes, to tell him that Spargapises would address himsef unto him, and offer him in exchange for Sitalces; but his zeal unto his service would advice, not to release him till the spring when the Army was in the field where he might fight in his quarrel. For considering the juncture of affairs, he thought that if he remained a prisoner all this winter time, he should be able to discover many of the enemy's designs, much to his advantage. He told this Prince further, that he hoped to make him some Creatures in Tipanis: adding that it concerned him not to release Sitalces until the end of the winter, because if he were presently released, he knew that being very rich, he would make new levies to recruit the Army of Spargapises: Furthermore, he told him, that he was well able to do him this service, because his imprisonment was not harsh; but to the end his plot might better take, he told him also, that Argyrispe and Tyssagette should not have any knowledge of this secret, and that his best way would be only to draw the business out at length without either consenting or infusing. Thus the winter being very long in that Country, Adonacris hoped for much comfort from the length of his imprisonment: and indeed his plot did take admirably well as I shall presently tell you. Again, he writ unto Argyrispes, as if he were in some hopes of his speedy release, though he had indeed some fears that it would not be so soon as he desired: But whilst the man whom Spargapises would send unto Issedon was preparing for her departure; whilst Noromata was soliciting from her husband's return, and the departure of Adonacris, she was extremely grieved: for ask two things so contrary to his own inclinations. Whilst Adonacris was doing all he could to hinder his own releasement, and Sitalces also, Agathirses, whose passion was still violently high, was busy in making all the world believe that he was not in love with Elibesis, to the end the fame of it might reach as far as Issedon, and that Elibesis might not think he loved her; thinking it a thing unworthy of himself to continue loving one who had preferred her ambition of being a Queen before her affection. So that he was extremely busy in giving instruction unto him who was going unto Issedon, lest he should contradict his resentments: and in order to that, he made choice of a man who depended absolutely upon himself. But at the same time whilst he was instructing him to speak nothing which might make it believed that he loved Elibesis; and that he did not act against Ariantes, but only as a true subject unto Thomiris, he ordered him also to inquire very circumspectly, in what manner Elibesis behaved herself towards Ariantes: However, not thinking his revenge upon her to be enough in persuading her that he loved not her, unless he made her also believe that he loved another, he resolved upon a full satisfaction unto his revenge, in seeming to be desperately in love with some Lady in Tipanis. And there being no beauty of a greater lustre than Noromata, nor more fit to raise a belief that he was in love, he determined to counterfeit addresses to her, and all the winter long to court this beauty with continual Feasts, and to closet up all his real resentments; in his own heart, that the least sign of any sorrow should not appear in his face. In order to which, he began his frequent visits unto Noromata, and to make many addresses unto the Governor's wife of Tipanis, at whose house all the Ladies did rendezvouz.  
In the mean time, Noromata thinking it unfit for a wife, whose husband was a prisoner to be frequenter of so many diversions: she would needs excuse herself from them; but since Spargapises at the solicitation of Agatherses, was very importunate with her, she was forced to be less solitary than otherwise she would: For all the friends of Sitalces told her that there was no prudence in the world in incensing a Prince, who might hinder the releasement of her husband: So that Noromata, as melancholy as she was, yet was obliged to be in pleasant company. And thus though Adonacris could not see her at her own house, unless when he went with the young Spargaprises: yet he saw her very often in other places whether she would or no, so as he received some consolation: Also he carried the matter so handsomely, that she not contributing unto it, he found ways how to talk with her a quarter of an hour together, when no ears but her own could hear: so that though she said nothing unto him, but what was worthy of her virtue, yet he did oftentimes break into expressions of his passion.  
But the counterfeit passion of Agatherses, seemed the greater wonder unto Adonacris: for since he took that fancy up, he was almost perpetually with Noromata: and by consequence it was very hard for Adonacris to talk with her in private.  
Again, as fair and charming as Noromata was, yet Agatherses took no other delight in seeing and talking with her, than his thoughts of spiting Elibesis: For he knew very well it would vex her to the very heart when she should hear her loved any other after her. Thus Agatherses disturbed the minds of these two persons without receving any great satisfaction unto himself, or at least any tranquil satisfaction. But (said I one day unto him, seeing the constraint wherein he lived) I cannot understand why you should so dissemble; for what matter is it what Elibesis thinks of you? what matter? (replied he sharply) why it doth so much concern me, that she should believe I do not now love her, that I should be even desperate if he should not think me in love with Noromata. For truly I cannot endure she should ever suspect me of any puling weakness; but on the contrary, I had rather she should think me a thousand times more in love with Noromata, than ever I was with her.  
But (said I unto him) in satisfying your fancy, you do but ill service unto the side you have taken: for do you think that Sitalces when he is released will take it well, that you you should be in love with his wife? Provided Elibesis take it ill (replied he very sharply) I care not a straw how Sitalces takes it: Yet (added he) I had never made choice of Noromata, had there been any other in Tipanis, whose beauty was famed enough to make Elibesis fully believe I quit her for the other.  
But since there is none so fair and charming as Noromata, she must be the object of my pretended love, which must satisfy my revenge: And more than this (added he) I will do all I am able to persuade myself, that I do love Noromata. Noromata being most virtuous (said I unto him) I am persuaded that you will not be a jot the happier if you should be really in love with her: Ah my dear Anabaris (said he unto me) that rigour which is caused by the virtue of the person loved, will never fill a soul so full of sorrow as will the inconstancy of an ambitious woman, who loves nothing but a Chimaera of grandeur which she fancies: So that though Noromata should treat me ill, yet I should be less miserable than I am, and should have this satisfaction at least, to know that she whom I loved did deserve to be so, whereas by continuing my love of Elibesis, I should continue loving one, who deserves not so much as my esteem: If you do not esteem her (said I unto him) you do not love her, for I cannot see how Love can subsist without esteem: I did esteem her when I first began to love her (pursued he) and did since long esteem her; but let me tell you withal, that now I do not esteem her, nor ever will, though I am strangely afraid, that I shall love her still: I see she is as fair as fair can be, that she hath as much wit as is attributed unto the very Gods, and that she hath such a strange kind of engaging charms, when she pleases, that it is a matter most difficult to defend one's self against them. But for all this, it may be said, that I esteem in her what is estimable, but cannot truly say that I esteem her; for truly when I look upon her as a person blinded with grandeur, one who would prefer a man that is defective both in body and mind so he be upon a Throne, before the most accomplished man, I cannot esteem her: But Sir, said I unto him, the Prince Ariantes is no such man as you speak of: 'Tis true, replied he, but she does not value his merits no more than mine: Then Sir, replied I, if she be such an ambitious piece, Can you think she will care whether you love her or no, or will be sorry if you should love another? At the least, she will not be glad if I love another (replied he) So that though I cannot make her grieve, yet I shall deprive her the pleasure to think that I can love none but she; and therefore though Sitalces should change sides, I would not change my thoughts: And indeed Sir Agatherses began his gallantry in such perspicuous manner, as it was impossible but to make a great noise in the world; but yet in the midst of all, he had such inward frettings of heart, which he was not able to Master, as that they appeared in spite of his teeth: For my particular, I have seen him when all the Ladies were assembled to dance, to stand all the night in the corner of the room, never so much as minding what they did, no not Noromata herself. However, this did not undeceive those who thought him in love, for they thought his sadness proceeded from Noromatas not answering his affection: She herself thought as much, and whilst his mind was all upon Elibesis, they thought that Noromata's rigour racked his thoughts. On the other side, Adonacris was so grieved at this high kind of gallantry, that had not I given him some cordial, I think he had died: but being his intimate friend, and might impart the secret of Agatherses without any prejndice to him, I did let him know that Agatherses did not love Noromata, but only did strive to love her: Ah my dear friend (said Adonacris to me) if Agatherses would love Noromata, certainly he will, for she is too too fair and lovely, not to answer the desires of all that would love her. As you cannot love Elibesis, though you would, as fair as she is (said I unto him) though she were not your Sister, so Agatherses cannot love Noromata, though he desire it. I wish it with all my soul, replied he, but I am afraid my wish will not prevent it: But Sir (said I unto him) I must confess, that I cannot understand this strain of jealousy which now possesseth you; for methinks when one is in love with a person who hath a husband, he never need be jealous of a Lover which is not loved: Alas Anabaris (said Adonacris) you are an ignorant in matters of love, if you do not know the difference between being jealous of a Rival and jealous of a Husband: I cannot tell whether I am an ignorant in amorous matters (replied I) but I believe I am in the right when I say that it is a much greater vexatious matter to see the Person whom one loves enjoyed by a husband; then to see her only loved by a Rival. If the husband were her lover when he married her, replied he, I must confess nothing is more hard to be endured; And when a lover becomes a husband the case is altered: for a Rival who is not loved troubles me no more if I should see him talk with Noromata, than Sitalces doth by enjoying her; for a husband who is not loved, will never be, but a hated lover, may be hereafter loved: Thus you see a vast difference between a husband and a Rival: Therefore I think myself infinitely obliged unto you for acquainting me that Agatherses is not my Rival. Thus Sir, you see what the resentments of these three persons were: Agatherses loved Elibesis still, and would seem as if he loved Noromata, and not her: Adonacris still loved her whom he loved at first, but durst not either say or be seen so to do: And Noromata, though she could not choose but still love Adonacris, yet seemed as if she dearly loved Sitalces and not him.  
In the mean time, the man whom Agatherses sent unto Ariantes in the name of Spargapises, not arriving at Issedon until after the messenger which Adonacris sent unto that Prince, he did not speed so well as he hoped; for the Prince Ariantes really believing Adonacris, did protract the business, and dismissed the Envoy from Spargapisses without either a denial or a consent unto his demands. So that Argyrispe hearing that Ariantes did not consent unto this exchange so readily as he hoped, she addressed herself unto her Sister in law, and desired her favour in obtaining her husband's liberty of this new King: But Elibesis told her that, that she had already spoke unto Ariantes, who said he would first consider upon it: Adding that she did solicit in her behalf, with all imagineable care. But Sir, you must know, that Elibesis indeed had spoken unto the Prince Ariantes for the liberty of Adonacris, and he fearing to deny the liberty of her brother without telling her the reason, he showed her what this prisoner had writ unto him, upon condition she should not speak of it unto Argyrispe or any other: She seeing this, that her brother desired not to be released, that his staying at Tipanis, would advantage to the new King's affairs, and prejudice the Queens; she desired Ariantes to deny her very peremptorily, as often as she should at the instance of her Sister in law, solicit him for the liberty of Adonacris: So that by this means the design of this lover and prisoner, did take admirable effect.  
On the other side, Sitalces understanding that the Prince Ariantes did make it some difficulty of exchanging him for Adonacris, was much perplexed at his being absent from his wife at a time when so many Gallants were at Tipanis: So that jealousy obliged him to write in answer to his wife's letter, that he had appointed her to offer Agatherses any thing which much conduces unto the continuation of the war, so he would procure his liberty. Furthermore, Argyrispe not coutenting herself with the answer of Elibesis, did write unto her Husband that she was resolved rather to offer the half of all her estate to procure his liberty, then to let him lie a long winter in prison; for she being naturally of a jealous and unquiet temper, and loving her Husband very dearly, his absence was intolerable to her. So that Sitalces not knowing that Adonacris was in love with his wife, or that his wife did not hate him, also Argyrispe not knowing these things neither, they were both of them in a most unquiet condition, and they partly showed it; for Sitalces being upon his parol, as well as Adonacris, he went sometimes to visit her, and confer upon the best expedients, for the recovery of her Husband's liberty and his own: And thus the equality of their interests did beget a confidence in each other: But whilst these two were plotting for expedients to advance their designs, Elibesis was a little perplexed in resisting the Prince Ariantes, and refusing to marry him without angering him. However, being resolved not to marry under a King, and seeing his Throne yet in a tottering condition, she held him still cunningly in hand, but still intended, that if Ariantes were not King, then to renew with Agatherses, not doubting but that he would return to her, if she would re-return to him. And indeed she tempered so cunningly with Ariantes, that he believed the reason why she would not marry him during the war, was in respect of his own interest: for having wit at will, she told him that since her quality was inferior to his if he should then marry her, it would give the adverse party a colour for saying many things prejudicial against him: So that she going thus subtly to work, Ariantes thought himself obliged unto her for denying him.  
On the other side, the messenger which Spargapises sent to this Prince, being returned to Tipanis, with an answer nothing satisfactory; Noromata was not a little astonished; for she could not imagine why Ariantes would not release the brother of her he loved, by releasing Sitalces: she began to suspect that Adonacris was himself an obstacle unto his own liberty; but since she could not imagine which way he should do it, she could not positively believe it. However, though she shuned meeting with Adonacris as much as she could, and solicited hard to send him further from her by releasing him: yet she was not sorry in her heart that Sitalces (she not contributing to it) was still at Issedon; and Adonacris yet at Tipanis. Yet notwithstanding all this, as soon as she received her Husband's Letter which appointed her to offer any thing in the world unto Agatherses, to obtain his liberty, she resolved upon obedience.  
Furthermore, Adonacris seeing his Plot did so happily hit, he was infinitely joyed it. But to the end Ariantes should not discover his drift, but still let him continue a pr 〈…〉 sooner all the winter, he did really spy so narrowly into the designs of Agatherses, an 〈…〉 all the Cabinet intricases of Tipanis and likewise of the Tent Royal, that he did of●e 〈…〉 send intelligence of great importance unto that Prince; in so much as there was no nee 〈…〉 of giving any new reasons why he should not be released: because the interest of State was reason enough.  
On the other side, Agatherses in continuing his mask of love unto Noromata, he was nothing so circumspect as he might be in hindering Ariantes from the Throne: But his greatest grief was, that Thomiris during her languishing disease, did send such ambiguous Orders; as it was easy to know that her soul was troubled at something else then at the War, and that She had some other design, since She would not hazard her Forces; and indeed Noromata's Father, who was with that Queen, did one day write, that he heard her say, She had rather lose the Kingdom of the Issedons, than her Army: However, send what orders She would, Agatherses was resolved to give battle as soon as Winter was done, or else to force Ariantes into Issedon. But Winter being very long in that Country, he must endure a long torment; yet it was some consolation unto him to hear from Spargapises his Envoy, that the reports in Issedon was, Elibesis would not marry Ariantes until the end of the War. But since the passion of his soul was such as useth ordinarily to inspire him with thoughts quite opposite unto one another, he would some days wish that Ariantes had married Elibesis: Yes Anabaris, (said he one day unto me) I swear unto you by all the Gods, that if I were sure to vanquish Ariantes to morrow, I would have him marry Elibesis to day; for it would be the greatest delight in the world unto me, to see a Sceptre fall out of the hand of this perfidious woman; and my revenge would not be to the full, if the fall of Ariantes Throne did overwhelm only himself; and if I did not see Elibesis a Queen without a Crown, or to say better, the Widow of a vanquished Usurper, and by consequence without honour, without rank, and without support, in necessity to have recourse unto me, to obtain for her some small corner in that Kingdom which She hopes to possess: Should you ever see her in such a deplorable condition (said I unto him) I am confident your joys would be mixed with much pity: Fie Anabaris (said he unto me) I cannot pity those who cannot pity me, and as my miseries never moved Elibesis, so hers shall never move me, or if they do, it shall be only out o● mere generosity, and out of my satisfaction to let her know, that such a Subject as myself does better merit her affection, than such a Sovereign as Ariantes.  
In the mean time, Noromata in observance of her husband's orders did speak unto Agatherses, according as he desired her; but since he seemed to be in love with her, he thought fit to answer her in ambiguous terms, though he did intend to do what he could to release Sitalces. And since he would have her think him to be really her Lover, to the end, that she being first deceived, others also might be the sooner; he told her very wittily, that her desires of seeing Sitalces released had blinded her, since she made such Propositions as were dishonourable to him: For truly (said he) if it should be known you offer so much for his liberty, it would be thought, that his side did not much value him; and therefore it is requisite to manage his honour a little better, and give Ariantes time to advise upon it; for his answer was not so clear, but that it was requisite to send a second time unto him, without making any new Propositions: Therefore Madam, have a little patience, and let time bring that design to pass, which perhaps would be ruined with haste.  
This Sir was the answer which Agatherses gave her, who being glad of a pretence to send again unto Issedon, that he might hear news of Elibesis, and publish it, that he was in Love with Noromata, he moved Spargapises to send thither the second time: So that Noromata writ unto Sitalces all that Agatherses said unto her: Adonacris also answered Argirispe, and wished her to be wary in her offers for his liberty, because if things changeed not, he had an infallible way of getting his liberty, which now he could not write. In the mean time, whilst these designs, which had so many secret obstacles, were in agitation, Adonacris was very vigilant, to take all opportunities of seeing and talking with Noromata 〈…〉 who, for his part, shunned him as much as she could, though she did very tenderly love him. But when chance only brought them together, and when Adonacris could not suspect that she gave him any opportunities of talking with her, than she could not choose but be much joyed, and take great delight in hearing him talk to her; yet these delights and joys, had some bitter mixed with their sweets, for she was so extremely careful of being over-obliging in her language, that she so stifled the thoughts of her heart, as put him into a cruel qualm, she was so fearful it should be known, that he did, and still doth love her, as she oftentimes did contradict the most just things; and if he at any time did hold an argument with another, she would always take his adverse part, so scrupulous and careful was this virtuous Lady of her reputation; yet Adonacris knew very well, that whensoever she was opposite to him, She did it not out of hearted. But as the great prudence of Noromata did deprive him of a hundred innocent delights, in depriving him of all private conference with her; so he chanced one day to argue against Eliorante in the presence of Noromata, upon a Subject, which obliquely had some coherence with the adventure which grieved him: For be pleased to know, that there was two Ladies in Tipanis, whose virtues and reputations were very different: For one, whose name was Menopea, was possessed with a most violent passion in her heart, and secretly held correspondencies of Gallantry with a very bravely accomplished man; but She carried herself with so much prudence, such strict reservedness, and so modestly, that except very few who knew the truth, all the world thought Menopea to be the most virtuous person upon earth, and the least capable of any correspondencies of Gallantry with any one. There was also another Lady, whose name was Orique, who was as really virtuous as ever any was, yet extremely exposed to scandal, because She had a conceit, that it was sufficient to be virtuous without seeming so. So that being only cautious lest any of her actions should be essentially ill, and never caring for appearances by which the world in general useth to judge, She exposed her reputation unto so much slander and envy, that all the Town (except a few who knew her very well) did think that all men were her Lovers, yes, her favoured Lovers. Thus She who was the Gallant, passed for severe and virtuous, and She who was the virtuous, passed for the Gallant, & seemed to do many things against the Rule of Virtue Falling then into discourse of these two Ladies whom so few did rightly know; Eliorante, Noromata, and Adonacris being together, and Agatherses coming also in, Noromata began to blame that virtuous Lady, who trusted too much unto her own goodness, and who was not enough observant over her actions. I could never have thought (said Adonacris and smiled) that of two persons, the one only seeming virtuous and not being; the other being virtuous, and not seeming, that the fair Noromata would take her part who was not virtuous: I do not take her part, replied Noromata, and yet I am against her who is virtuous, and is not careful of seeming so also: For truly if a woman love not her reputation, I cannot be well satisfied with her virtue, nor know I well whether She truly merits the name of Virtuous: It is most dangerous to subject ones self unto censure, and I will maintain, that though one be not virtuous, yet they ought at least to endeavour to appear so, and much more She who really is virtuous: For my part, replied Adonacris, I am persuaded it is sufficient if one do nothing against virtue, and one needs not to insist so precisely upon endeavours to take away all manner of pretences of slander; for as those who are most assiduous in frequenting sacred duties, are often accused of hypocrisy; so it must be concluded a thing impossible to prevent all scandal and censure: And so since malicious and envious people will be talking and belching out their venom, do what one can, it were a piece of unjustice unto ones self to be all their life long rigid and severe, for fear of being talked of: Much better it is, to let one's mind sore above all that malice can say, then to stand eternally upon a watchful guard against all tongues: For my particular (said Agathersas then) I think Adonacris to be in the right: For to carry one's self so, as nothing can be said against them, is a thing most impossible: And indeed, we see every day, that one and the same action both commended and condemned, according to the several humours of men; and to justify what Adonacris hath said, hypocrisy is commonly called piety: They do ill who do so, said Noromata and interrupted him: But for all that, what is good must appear to be so, and ill habits ought to be concealed: Your opinion seems so reasonable, replied Eliorante, that I cannot believe any is able to contradict it: Yet I shall Madam, replied Agatherses; for there is nothing worse becomes an heroic soul, then to study how the world should see all their good qualities; yet according to your Tenants, a man must never do any brave action, but first he must call for some witnesses unto it, he must never be liberal but in public, and he must do all the good he can, only because people must know it, and talk of it: No; no, replied Noromata, you put an ill exposition upon my words: How then must I expound them, replied he? To understand me rightly, answered She, I would not have any do good with a design it should be known; but in things which may reflect upon ones reputation, I would have one never to do any thing which may slain it: For example, I would have a man so regulate his life, as none can think but that he is valiant: I would have a woman live so prudently, that none can suspect her virtue; and not to content themselves only with being virtuous, but be careful to avoid all things which may make her believed otherwise: Alas Madam, said Adonacris, your Rule is most severe, for all the pleasure of life consists in such things as may be ill interpreted according to several humours: I do confess it, said She; but since they cannot be done without hazarding reputation, I will affirm, that the sorrow for losing it, is greater than all the delights that can be found: But Madam, (replied Agatherses pleasantly) you must do nothing as long as you live, but in your Chamber; nay, I know not whether such a retreat would not be also subject unto scandal; for it would be said, that you would never live so, but because Sitalces would otherwise be jealous: 'Tis true, said she, and smiled, but they would then say that I did not give him any cause of jealousy: By your rules, added Agatherses, a Lady must carefully avoid all private conference with men, whom others do think do love her; She must never walk under a hundred women at once, and in a Garden be always in the throng of company, and never go aside to talk with any friend about any business; She must always talk aloud, and never talk of the Beauties of the Time, or of shadows, or walks, lest it should be thought you talk as if you were in love; certainly She must talk more with men She hates, then with men She loves, lest otherwise she should be scandaled: So a Lady who is so cheery of her reputation, must live ever without any friends of either Sex, lest it should be said, they are either her Lovers, or her Confidents: None of all this, replied She, for I allow her friends of both Sexes; but I would have a Wife live so, as none can accuse her of having any favoured Lovers; and therefore as soon as ever a Lady knows that any man is in love with her, She must carefully avoid both saying or doing any thing, that he may take any advantage to himself by it, but live so reservedly, that none can so much as suspect her favourable to him, and to avoid all occasions of his speaking to her, lest it should be thought he speaks of his love: For my part, I whom as little apt to slander as another, I must confess, that I cannot see a Lover hold long discourse with his Mistress, but I must needs think, he is talking neither of State affairs, nor martial matters. So that since She may draw a great inconveniency upon herself, for a little pleasure, I must conclude, She ought never to run the hazard of it. To instance in the fair Orique, for an example. All the world knows that She it most horribly slandered with keeping private conference with a Gallant in a Garden, yet I do know of a most infallible certainty, that all the while he was with her, he only related his affection that he bore unto a Lady who was with Thomir 〈…〉 s. Do you think that the pleasure of the story did merit the hazard of her reputation, in passing away a whole afternoon with a man whom She loved not? I must confess, said Adonacris then, that since Orique did not love the man, and since he had nothing to say unto her which concerned herself, She had better to have let that meeting alone.  
But still I must say, that when a woman esteems a man in an extradinary manner, it were weakness in her to deprive herself of the pleasure of talking in secret, only because perhaps she may be talked of, and it's enough if She do nothing against the Laws of virtue; for if She do love very well the pleasure of free discourse with him She loves, 'twill be above the talk of spiteful tongues. One that hears you talk, would say, replied Noromata, that you do not value honour, and that you do not understand the sorrows of such as are injuriously dishonoured; yet I assure you, there is nothing more hard to be endured, than slander, when it reflects upon one's honour; as that which reflects upon one's wit or beauty, I am one who of all the world am least concerned; for truly should they say of me that I am simple, or ugly, it would not anger me at all; but should they say of me, that I was addicted to Gallantry, and a Gossiper, this would most sensibly grieve me, nor could I endure to be the Subject of any injurious Rallary: To live after your mode, (replied Agatherses) were to live more unto others than themselves: It seems (replied Noromata and laughed) that in all your actions you would strive only to please yourself, without any satisfaction unto others: Since others care not for contenting me (replied he) I never trouble my mind with contenting others; for setting the interest of her I love aside, and the interest of my friends, which is ever dearer unto me than my own, neither those who are above me, nor those who are below me, shall never hinder me from doing what I have a desire to do, provided it be but honest; and it is the greatest folly in the world to do every thing according to the fancy of all our acquaintance, for Courtiers and Citizens see things with different eyes, old men and young the like, melancholy and merry men are of several minds: Such as we call Libertines, and pious people, have thoughts quite contrary; women who are fair, and such as are ill-favoured, have often very various thoughts. So that whosoever will content all sorts of people at once, will certainly spend their time to very ill purpose: For my particular; replied Noromata, I should spend it much to worse purpose, if all these sorts of people you speak of should unite themselves to wound my reputation, as doubtless they would, should I give them cause; for certainly there is a kind of malignity that reigns in the minds of all the world in general, which makes them apt to interpret in an ill sense, all things that may receive an exposition of that nature: But Madam, replied Adonacris, what hurt doth any ill exposition of any of your actions do you, when it is spoken out of your presence, and never to your face? Though I should have no other grief, replied She, but to think that people will say the worst they can of me; and to think they will say of me as they do of others, it were enough to blast all the pleasures I should take in the presence of that person I loved best in the world: However, said Agatherses, Do we live for others, and not ourselves? Yes sure, for ourselves in the first place; if so, Why are we not contented with the secret testimony of our own consciences, and never torment ourselves at any people who love us not, nor esteem us, nor whom we know not, let them think or say what they will. The reason why I will live as I do intend to do, replied Noromata, is because we are to live for ourselves: for it is the strangest thing in the world, that one should lose their reputation without a cause; and my humour is such, that I would sooner pardon the misbehaviour of a person, whose manners are really irregular, than I would the misbehaviour of one who is virtuous; and truly I cannot conceive why one should manage their reputations carelessly▪ when they know they deserve well, nor why one should not take a little pains to appear so, since it is easy to be done, and dangerous not to be done. Though you should appear never so good, (replied Agatherses) yet all appearances are no armour against slander: For as you know by experience, that Menopea with all her virtuous appearances, yet is not so: So I could say, if I would, that all your actions are but dissimulations, and that I know some things which do give all your actions the lie: When I have done all I can (replied She) I cannot chide myself if my reputation be scandalised, nor shall I be exposed unto a thousand dangers, as those are, who think themselves above all that can be said or thought; for those who despise the thoughts of others, will in time come to despise the thoughts of themselves: However, I must tell you Madam, (replied Agatherses) your life will be extremely tedious to you, if you should live always in a constrained course. The example of Menopea and Orique do clearly show it unto you, for though Menopea doth both love, and is beloved; and by consequence enjoys all that is requisite to make the happiest person in the world, and enjoys all imaginable pleasures, yet her close reservedness, which she observes to hide her correspondency with her Lover, doth daily bring a thousand inconveniences upon her, for she dares neither look nor speak unto her Lover, but with most intolerable precaution; and as She lives, I am confident that She has not one hour of a thousand which is absolutely agreeable unto her wish; but on the contrary, Menopea, though not in love, nor in any particular correspondency with any, yet She lives the most pleasant life in the world, only because what She does, She does without constraint: If you be more a Lover of your Liberty then your glory, replied Noromata, you then had good reason for what you say; but for my part, since I value my honour above my liberty, I have good reason for what I say, and to maintain that a woman who cares not for her reputation, but is contented with the esteem of herself, not valuing the esteem of others, She does deeply expose herself to do things against virtue, more than one who sets a prize upon her honour. Truly Madam, said Agatherses, you would have our Ladies more reserved than some of our Goddesses, for— I would you not speak thus against the reverence which is due unto the Gods, (replied Noromata, not giving him time to tell on) and if it be possible, leave off that ill custom of using the name of the Gods always to justify every trifle: I had rather you would swear by Agatherses and by Eliorante, said She and smiled, then by Mars, and by Hercules, were I of the opinion which many of our young Court Gallants are, who scarcely think they were ever men, much less Gods: For ought I see Madam (replied Agatherses and smiled also) you think me an absolute Libertine: No, replied She, for if I did think you so, I promise you that should not be any friend of mine; but I blame you, and with reason, for accustoming yourself unto an ill habit of speaking over-slightly and irreverently of things in our Religion, yet truly in my opinion the argument is but weak, to say we ought to believe no further than we understand, since there are a thousand things in nature we cannot comprehend. I have heard say, that Croessus amongst his rarities had a Stone, which made those who wore it invisible: Yet it is a much harder matter to believe what is said concerning the power of our Gods, than what is related concerning the virtue of this wonder the Heliotrope. Commonly those who jest most at sacred things, do but imperfectly know what it is which hardens the hail, and whitens the Snow; nor know they at all what that boisterous wind is which often disroots the sturdiest oaks (though it touches them, and sometimes blows them over) yet these men must be prying and meddling with the Cabinet secrets of Eternity, they will be Reformers of the best established Religions, and out of their capricious fond fancies, destroy all the Temples and Altars of the world; and all this, because not believing that there is a God, they think all that pleaseth them is permittable: But as for you Agatherses (added Noromata) whose manners are both innocent and virtuous, and who is not of their opinion, who think that the Gods do neither punish nor reward, only because they may live in more liberty; I advise you as a friend, not to be carried away with the ill customs of the world: Your zeal Madam, replied Agatherses, makes you so eloquent, that I cannot tell how to deny you, but will promise you, (most charming Noromata) that I will do as much as I can to believe, that Mars is jealous, that Vulcan is a Cuckold, and that Venus did equally delude them both.  
As Agatherses said so, the young Spargapises entered, who broke off this discourse, and hindered Noromata from answering Agatherses. But since he stayed not long with Eliorante, he carried Agatherses with him, and Fortune was so favourable unto Adonacris, that one having some business with Eliorante, she went into her Closet, and desired Noromata as her intimate friend, to entertain Adonacris until she returned. At the first Noromata told her, that She desired her excuse, because She was to be gone herself; but She said this in such a faint manner, that Eliorante imagining She had no reasons which really induced her to be gone so soon, did tell with all freedom of friendship that She would not bid her adieu, and that if She found her not with Adonacris at her return, She would quarrel with her: So that Noromata, who indeed could not part from Adonacris without sorrow, She had not power to deny Eliorante, who not staying for her answer, went unto her Closet, and left her alone with her Lover. But Eliorante had no sooner left them but Adonacris began discourse.  
I wonder Madam, said he unto her and smiled, that you will not rather venture a quarrel with Eliorante, then stay with a man who infinitely adores you: Certain I should do so, (replied She, and both smiled and blushed) if I did not fear Eliorante would conceive some such thing if I should quit you: Oh Madam, said Adonacris, as long as your care of your glory obligeth you to things of this nature; I shall never murmur: But Madam said he (and assumed a most serious aspect) to lose no more of this precious time, but to speak more seriously, I beseech you; why are you so resolute of my banishment by your getting my release? Alas, Sitalces will see you all the days of his life; but I, heavens know perhaps shall never see you again, after I am released: Allow then Madam of a thing which Fortune hath brought to pass without your consent, for truly Madam, you shall not release me so soon as you imagine: Therefore I beseech you, let me not have any cause to complain against you for any rigour as long as I am with you; I desire only to see you, and talk to you when none hears but yourself, do not answer me if you please, and let me only tell you that I did love you, and not that I do so still: Since I can talk this day unto you (said she unto him) and not upbraid myself for giving you any occasion, I will consent unto your desires; but Adonacris, it shall be still to tell you the same things over again, and to assure you, that since I cannot banish you from my heart, I will do what I can to banish you from Tipanis. Since I hope Madam, replied Adonacris, that Fortune will be more favourable unto me than you are, and not banish me so soon, I am contented you should continue your solicitations for the liberty of Sitalces, and by consequence for mine: But Madam, that which I do request, and request with abundance of zeal, is that you will be pleased as long as I do stay here, to let me talk to you, and see you often: I do allow it but too much (said she unto him) and if you did but know how I chide myself for my indulgency towards you— Alas Madam (said Adonacris and interrupted her) If you call your behaviour to me indulgency, I wonder what you will call your rigour? What I do (replied She) is certainly more than I ought to do; for truly Adonacris, that affection which might have been innocent at Issedon, is now become vicious at Tipanis, that I am now more faulty in suffering you to love me, than I was before in loving you: And truly I intent (added She and sighed) to conjure both you and myself to do so no more; but Adonacris, I must confess, I know not whether I have power to execute my intentions.  
As he was going to reply, Eliorante returned, who gave Noromata as many thanks for staying there, as Adonacris did unto her in his heart for staying her. The truth is, her so soon return did a little take off the good offices She had done him, and as he had a desire to thank her, so had he also to complain against her. But Sir, whilst these things passed at Tipanis, other accidents fell out at Issedon, which put new faces upon things: For be pleased to know, that when Adonacris was taken Prisoner, he thought, as I told you before, that all his baggage was plundered by the Soldiers: So that though he was very sorry for the loss of his dear Noromatas Letters which he valued above his most precious jewels; yet he hoped, that they would be lost unto all the world, as well as unto himself; and that those who plundered the baggage would never trouble themselves with such trifles as would not be worth any thing unto them, but would either tear or burn them: So that though they were never like to be any comfort unto him, yet at least they would never hurt him. But Fortune did otherwise dispose of them, and caused unhappily for him, that one of his servants, who was most zealously devoted unto his service, who seeing the Army routed, and baggage like to be lost, resolved to get his Master's things into some safety, and to execute his design, he saved the carriage, by seeming to be of the other side: Yet as soon as night was come, he fell extremely sick, and the Inhabitants of the Town where he quartered, did pillage him of all he had, and left him nothing considerable, but a little Cabinet of a Fish's Skin, which was both handsome and rich, and in which was Noromata's Letters.  
This servant after his recovery believed, that since he was much nearer Issedon than Tipanis, it was best for him to go thither, and ask Argirispe what service She would command him, and whether he should return to his Master, or take some other course. This design of his being very reasonable, he did execute it, and returned to Issedon; and to let Argirispe see his fidelity, he showed this Cabinet unto her, not knowing what was within it; and it is to be supposed, that those who stole all the baggage from this servant, finding this Cabinet to be but little and light, and thinking no matter of money in it, did either slight or forget it, as a thing of no worth. But Sir, as it is the nature of all jealous persons generally to be full of curiosity, though there be no reason for any jealousy in the world: So Argirispe had a strong natural inclination to open this Cabinet, and to read these Letters, yet not knowing any reason why: And indeed, I have heard one of her friends say, that She never was in the Chamber of any one whom She visited, but if She were alone, and found any Letters upon the Table, She would open them, or at the least had a great desire unto it: You may easily imagine then Sir, considering the humour of Argirispe, as I have described it, that She could not see this Cabinet, but needs must open it. But Sir, the worst was, Sitalces, whom I told you, was a frequent visitor of Argirispe, was then present with her, and She being naturally of an impatient temper, She opened this Cabinet in his presence, and he who opened it, being forced to use some strength unto it, it broke all in pieces, and the Letters opened in falling out, and one of them falling unhappily upon Sitalces, he took it up to present it unto Argirispe, not thinking it was from his Wife: But he was strangely surprised when he saw the superscription, and knew it to be the hand of Noromata, his disorder was such, that altering his intention of giving it unto Argirispe, he now designed to keep it, though he knew not any handsome pretence for it.  
But Argirispe saved him the labour of seeking out for an excuse, for She seeing and knowing the hand, was also much surprised, and jealousy beginning to rouse up her heart, She was as full of curiosity as Sitalces: I never knew (said She unto him) that ever there was any such intimacy between Noromata and Adonacris, as to write Letters unto each other, but I believe Sir you know more than I do. Sitalces hearing Argirispe say so, was much puzzled for an answer, but at last did ingeniously confess, that he was as ignorant as herself of any Letters that Noromata writ unto Adonacris, but he spoke with such trembling of heart, that he scarce knew what he said. But in conclusion, these two jealous persons agreed to read these Letters, and to see of what nature they were: For truly Sir, said Argirispe, since these Letters were written by your Wife, it is but just you should see them, and just also, that since they were written unto my Husband that I see them. But Sir, I beseech you admire a little at the oddness of destiny in this business, and to add unto your wonder, be pleased to know, that though all Noromatas Letters were only matters of civility, yet they so indicted, as if they had some Characters of love in them. Moreover, they were not dated, so that Sitalces and Argirispe knew not whether they were writ before, or after their marriages: So that by this means Sitalces and Argirispe thought that they had matter of accusation enough against Noromata. But to return from whence I digressed, Argirispe and Sitalces beginning to read them, with such resentments, as you may well imagine: The first Letter was thus indicted.  
NOROMATA unto ADONACRIS.  
SIR,  
IT seems I am not so sincere as you are, for I would not that you should be able to Divine my thoughts, as you seem to desire I should yours; yet do not think that I do entertain any which are disadvantageous to you, nor any which are much to your advantage, but I am of an humour, which persuades me to let none have so much power over me, as I myself have, but be contested with so much as I do give you, and without diving into my thoughts: Let it suffice I give you leave to interpret all my words in the most obliging sense you can.  
NOROMATA.  
Though this Letter was indeed only civil and gallant, yet it so nettled the soul of Sitalces, that it turned it all at once into jealousy, hatred, and fury; nor did it move less disorder in the soul of Argirispe, when She read another Letter, which if my memory fail not, contained these words.  
NOROMATA unto ADONACRIS.  
SIR,  
Could I write that I do consent you should love me, and not tacitly tell you at the same time, that I do love you, doubtless I should do it: But since my permission may be interpreted so, I will not allow it; all the favour you shall receive from me, is this, That I do leave you at liberty to love me, or not to love me, as you please, without any permittance or forbiddance from  
NOROMATA.  
After the reading of this Letter, Argirispe looked upon Sitalces, and saw his thoughts so well in his eyes, that she thought it unnecessary to ask him. I understood since by a woman who was with her, and who stood in a corner of the Chamber during all the conference which she had with Sitalces, that both of their countenances changed, their eyes were so full of fury, and their souls so troubled, that it was easy to see their hearts were disordered with more than one passion. I shall not trouble you Sir with a relation of what they said unto each other, though this woman made an exact relation of all unto me; for indeed their conference was so full of anger and fury, that it would be no great pleasure unto you to hear it: However, they read all Noromatas Letters, and though they found none more engaging then these two which I have already related, yet they drew out of them very vexatious consequences. As for Sitalces, he told Argirispe in the heat of his transport, that knowing Noromata so well as he did, he took all these her civilities to be so many signs of Love: And Argirispe also told Sitalces, that knowing her Husband's discretion so well as she did, she was sure he had burned the most obliging of Noromata's Letters, and kept only such as were most indifferent: Sometimes they concurred in their opinions of things, and sometimes again they differed, and their excess of vexation made them sometimes jar with one another; and indeed Argirispe did almost downright tell Sitalces, that his wife had stolen the heart of her husband from her, because he had not merit enough to get hers: And Sitalces told Argirispe, that Adonacris would never have loved Noromata, but because he did not think his own wife amiable: Yet since their interest were alike, and since they were both wholly bend upon revenge, after the heat of fury was a little cooled, they agreed to make those two persons miserable who caused their sorrows. And at last they began to consider why Ariantes should make such a difficulty in accepting upon the exchange which they had propounded, to consider the slight sorrows which Adonacris expressed in his Letters at his not being released; and thereupon concluding, that it was Adonacris who had writ unto his Sister to retard his releasement; and afterwards concluded, that Noromata was of the plot, and consented unto it, and that Adonacris and she did spend whole days together in laughing and mocking at their sorrows, and at all the pains they have taken to procure the exchange. Sitalces for his particular, did not now doubt of the reason why Agatherses did not solicit Spargapises to make any large offers unto the Prince Ariantes for his exchange, for he knew it was his Wife who hindered him, and who did not negotiate as he desired her: And Argirispe also believed, that the reason why her Husband sent her word not to offer any thing for his releasement, because he knew an infallible way to procure it, that the reason was, because he desired not to be at liberty: So that both of them being in one mind, there was no violent course which they did not both of them resolve upon: And after they had well examined what course to take, they concluded it best to let Adonacris and Noromata know, that they were not ignorant of their affections; and to drive the nail so home, that this their intimation to them should oblige them to remove those obstacles which hindered their exchange, resolving after this to proceed further, when they should see their answers. So that the second Messenger from Spargapises being ready to depart from Issedon, without doing any thing more than at first time, they writ by him. But Sir, I forget to tell you, that since this messenger from Agatherses, had private orders from his Master to publish at Issedon, How it was reported in Tipanis, that Agatherses was in love with Noromata, to the end Elibesis might know it; so it chanced that the poor Sitalces came to the knowledge of it also: So that believing then his Wife had two Lovers in one place in lieu of one, he was in a most miserable condition: But though this was very sad news unto him, yet it was not so unto the Prince Ariantes, but on the contrary; he much rejoiced at it; and thinking it to conduce much unto his advantage that Elibesis should know it, he made her a Visit, purposely to acquaint her with it. But Sir, his design did not hit so happily as he hoped, for Elibesis could not hear that Agatherses had left loving her, and that he loved another without abundance of grief; and Ariantes told it unto her in such a surprising manner, that he plainly perceived how this new passion of Agatherses did trouble her; and not being able to forbear some expressions of his thoughts: If I should believe your eyes Madam (said he unto her) I should think that your loss of Agatherses his heart doth as much trouble you, as if I had lost a Battle, or as if you had lost a Crown: If my eyes have discovered any sorrow unto you (replied Elibesis wittily, and blushed) they have very ill interpreted the thoughts of my heart, since I assure you Agatherses hath not any share in them: But I must confess, that since I do not love Noromata, I am not very glad, that a man whom heretofore I have communicated so much unto, should now go and tattle all our passages unto her: Yet Madam (replied Ariantes) I could never discover the least falling out betwixt you and Noromata all the while she was here: 'Tis true (replied Elibesis, a little nonplussed) there was no visible quarrel between us: But Sir (added she with a marvellous vivacity of Spirit) When two are near of the same age, of the same quality, pretend unto the same esteem, and the same commendations, and when they are neither old nor ugly, it is not a question to be asked, whether there be any quarrels between two such: For though they live together in all civility, yet believe it Sir, if you look well into their hearts, you will find but little friendship there to each other: Oh Madam (said Ariantes in looking fixedly upon her) your cares to persuade me that you are capable of envy, makes me suspicious: I am fearful to discover, that all your affections are upon Agatherses, and that you only held me in hand out of ambition: Truly Madam, I conceive it not just, that since I became a Rebel unto Thomiris, only out of love to you, since I began a War, only to Crown you, that I should lose your esteem by losing a Battle, and that if I should lose a Crown, to lose also all hopes of enjoying you: I beseech you Madam, since Agatherses does not now love you, but loves another, let me have the happiness to possess his room: Be not so unjust, as to love him who loves not you, and not to love a Prince, who loves you more than himself. I have already told you Sir (replied she) that Agatherses hath no share in that anger which my eyes against my will discovers unto you; but to stop all your complaints, let me tell you, that if you had told me Agatherses had been in love with any other then Noromata, you should have seen less disorder in my looks: I wish I could believe you Madam (replied he) but if I be not much mistaken, I do rightly understand the language of your eyes, and unless you give me some more obliging language then yet you have, but will still persuade me that I am not loved, I shall give over all matters of War, and strive 〈…〉 no longer to crown a person, who grieves more for a Slave that hath broke his Ch 〈…〉 then for me, who hazards my life to set her upon a Throne: Truly Sir (replied Elibesis craftily, whose ambition revived in her heart) you are most strangely earnest: But since it is fit I satisfy you, I will acquaint you with the true cause of all the sorrow you see in my eyes, though I shall hardly do it without a blush; for truly Sir, since you will needs have me confess the truth, I must tell you, that I cannot hear of Agatherses his ceasing to love me, but I must needs think that perhaps the Prince Ariantes will one day do the like, and consequently must extremely grieve at the very thought of it; and judge, I beseech you, if I have not good cause for it: Your language Madam is so favourable (replied Ariantes) that I had rather accuse your eyes of an untruth, than not to believe you, and Madam, I had rather believe what pleaseth me, than what grieveth me, though I be deceived by it. However, say what Elibesis would unto Ariantes, yet she was extremely vexed that Agatherses did not love her, and her hopes of his being one day her Subject, did not countervail her sorrows for his not being her Slave, though then she had no intentions of making him happy. But whilst Elibesis had more thoughts than she was able to Mistress, and whilst both love and ambition did tear her in pieces almost with equal violence, she knew not that Agatherses in counterfeiting not to love her, did yet love her with extreme zeal, and he suffered more in loving her, than she could do in thinking he did not. But as great as her sufferings were, they were but small, in comparison of what Noromata endured when she received her Husband's Letter. And indeed Sir, this Letter was writ in such a cruel stile, as never did Letter contain more bitter marks of extreme jealousy and anger, for he did not only hint unto her that he knew of the correspondency with Adonacris; but he told her also in most tart expressions, that she hindered his releasement, purposely to be out of his sight, and with Adonacris. After this, he mentioned something concerning the pretended Love of Agatherses, mixing sometimes amongst his injurious hints, some resentments of love, and ended his Letter with a Declaration, That if she did not find out some ways that Adonacris might be within a few days at Issedon, and that he might return unto Tipanis, he would never see her again; but make it known to all the world, that the reason of it was because she loved Adonacris: You may judge Sir, how this Letter troubled the virtuous Noromata, and how a person who loved her glory with so much passion, could not see her own in such eminent danger without extreme sorrow. Then did she plainly see, that to be innocent was not enough to have tranquillity of mind, since though she never did any thing against the Rules of virtue, yet was she extremely troubled that her Husband should suspect her, and that he would publish her suspicious, and ruin her reputation. But her greatest torment was, that maugre all these unjust aspersions, she still loved Adonacris most tenderly, who for his part was as angry as Noromata was grieved; for Argirispe in her Letter to him, did intimate, that she knew of his affection unto Noromata, that she had some Letters of that fair ones writing in her hands, that she believed him to be most tenderly loved, that she thought he had been an obstacle unto all her endeavours for his release, and that he chose rather to be a Prisoner with Noromata, then at liberty with her; adding further, a thousand inducements to repent of his infidelity, and as many menaces to be revenged upon Noromata, for making Sitalces use her hardly, if he did not change his mind. But that which most pinched him was, Argirispe intimated unto him, that Sitalces knew he loved his Wife, and that he had seen her Letters; for since he loved her in as Noble and Honourable a way as was possible, and since he was none of those Lovers who care not for the reputation of those persons whom they love, it grieved him to the soul that Noromata's honour should be brought in question for his sake: But that which put his patience to the highest test was, that the virtuous person who was so severe, and had carried herself with such cautious reservedness; when she had none to satisfy but herself, would not now so much as see him, when she understood her husband knew of his affection to her. Moreover, he feared that she would most horribly hate him, because her Letters had fallen into such dangerous hands; so that as pleasing as the sight of Noromata was unto him, yet his fears of seeing her incensed against him, did fill him full of strange apprehensions. On the other side, Agatherses having received a Letter from one of his friends at Issedon, which intimated unto him, how Elibesis was extremely angry when she heard that he did not love her; he was as much joyed at this, as heretofore he had been, when she gave him the greatest testimonies that his affection pleased her. And indeed, as I came unto him the next morning after he received this Letter, he no sooner saw me, but coming towards me with a pleasant aspect: Come my dear Anabaris (said he unto me) I am now arrived at that point I would be, and have received the best news in the world: Is it (said I again) that we shall shortly have peace or victory? No, no, replied he, I assure you neither peace nor war have any share in what I am about to tell you. It is only matters of love which I shall relate: Then assuredly, replied I, you will tell me that the Prince Ariantes is fallen out with his Mistress, and Elibesis is persuaded, that the Crown which he would give her, is not comparable unto the affection you bear unto her: No; said he, but Elibesis believes I love her not, and is vexed at it to the heart. But Sir (said I unto him) if her anger should turn unto hatred, would you be so well pleased as you seem to be? If it should, said he, I know not what I should be, but sure I am, that it joys me much She is angry, and I never took more pleasure in persuading her that I love her, than I have in making her believe, that I do not love her: And if after all this, I can throw down the Throne which she hopes to ascend, and have so much satisfaction as to see her without a King, without a Kingdom, without Subjects, and without a Slave, I shall be the happiest man alive: Yes, yes, Sir, replied I, so you would, if you could bring yourself once to that pass, as to hate her or at least not to love her, for if you think to be revenged of her by still loving her, believe me Sir, the revenge will light upon yourself: Though it should (said he to me) yet I should do as if I were happy; for I do profess, that I would die a thousand times, rather than Elibesis should ever know that I do not hate her: So that if I could be as happy as I could wish, and could not conceal myself, rather than tell her that I loved her, I would hide myself; and to be sincere with you, I have long time since resolved, that as soon as I have revenged myself upon my Rival, to begin a new form of life, and leave off the company of all such as Fortune hath been pleased to set above me, for I am so weary of seeing myself below them, that I cannot endure it; indeed I can neither flatter them, nor crouch unto them. Moreover; there is one strong fancy in my mind which mightily torments, and since I must discover my weakness unto you, I will tell you what it is: Know then, that I cannot see a man Superior to me, do any thing illfavouredly, but I am infinitely angry at Fortune for placing them in that condition they are; it is not out of any tenderness that I do interest myself in their imperfections, but on the contrary, there is an Antipathy in my nature against all that are above me, which is the reason that I cannot endure to see Princes either weak, or timorous, or covetous, or foolish, when I see such, I cannot choose but curse Fortune, because She did not rank them according to their merit: Truth is, I am so unable to endure that ill-favoured men should be placed above me, that I cannot brook Vulcan should be ranked amongst the Gods: Judge then, whether I can allow such as have the hearts of Slaves, the rusticity of a poor Fisherman, the language of a base Tradesman, should be ranked in the Catalogue of Princes: If Elibesis Sir (said I unto him and smiled) did hear what you say, She would, according to her custom, accuse you of profanation, and I think She had good reason for it: I know not what reason She hath (said he unto me) but I am sure I have reason to take it ill She should betray me, and to be glad that I have vexed her.  
But Sir, to return unto Noromata, give me leave to tell you, that this purely virtuous person; after She had spent the whole night in sorrow, and seeking remedy against such an important misery, She had a new cause of grief, for She received a Letter from her Father who was with Thomiris, and who knowing that Adonacris was at Issedon, and not being ignorant of his correspondency with Noromata before her marriage, did send her word, that if ever he heard She let Adonacris come into her house, he would make her the most miserable woman of her Sex. So that being on all sides overwhelmed with sorrows, She took the most generous resolution in the world, maugre all her tenderness to Adonacris, and her aversion to Sitalces. For Sir, since She did apprehend it not handsome to exchange a Lover for a Husband, She resolved to justify herself in her Husband's opinion, and to let him see She was no obstacle unto his liberty; She resolved, I say, to steal out o● Tipanis, and to return unto Issedon to Sitalces: But alas Sir, this resolution was not without 〈…〉 ny a 〈◊〉, and much ado to execute? yet since there was no other 〈◊〉 to redeem her reputation, She fully determined upon it (maugre her repugnanc●) 〈…〉 ve him She loved, and to go unto him She hated: The tender affection of her heart unto Adonacris, moved 〈◊〉 ●o wish that She could speak once more in her life unto him, to know by what sad 〈◊〉 her Letters came into her Husband's hands, but She could not find a ●it op 〈…〉 S●e should do him such a favour as She should upbraid herself withal, therefore She never went about it; but Fortune having no mind they should part in silence, did bring it to pass without her meddling in it, as I shall hereafter tell you. In the mean time Noromata contriving a way how to get out of Tipanis, and to pass the Guards and Spargapises safely, She did at last hit upon one which did happily hit. She went unto Eliorante, and told her, as She might truly, that her Husband had a servant whom he loved very well, who was taken prisoner with her, and who was married a little before he was taken. But to advance her design, She added a lie unto this truth, and told her, that the Wife of this servant hearing that her Husband was fallen sick at Issedon, and earnestly desired to see her, She was very desirous to go thither unto him. After which, Noromata aggravating the sorrows of this wife, desired Eliorantes favour to procure a passport for her, conjuring her to solicit her Husband for it, and not let any know that She did meddle in the business: For (said She unto her with much subtlety) I have so many things to ask of Spargapises, and Agatherses, concerning my Husband's liberty, that I should be unwilling to trouble them with the business of others, especially in a business which is of no great importance. Eliorante being glad of any importunity to oblige Noromata, did never examine her reasons any further, but told her, that if she would stay half an hour in her Chamber, She would give her an account how ready She was to satisfy her desires: She had no sooner said so, but Adonacris, as if he destined to speak unto Noromata no where but at Eliorantes, did enter: So that Eliorante seeing him; Sir, said She, I once before entreated you to entertain Noromata whilst I retired unto my Closet; and I beseech you once again to make the time seem less tedious unto her, whilst I go a little and execute some of her commands: I know not Madam, replied Adonacris, whether I shall be able to fulfil your commands; but I am sure, that though I do not divert her as I desire, yet my intentions are to do nothing that shall displease her: After this, Eliorante went out to mediate unto her Husband in Noromata's business: So as these two persons who had most violent inclinations to love each other, and who yet had thoughts very different, had the freedom of talk together; yet they said not what they thought, for Noromata never acquainted Adonacris with her design of going unto Sitalces, lest he should hinder her: And Adonacris never acquainted Noromata with the Letter which Argirispe sent unto him, lest it should grieve her. Noromata on her side would not tell him of those Letters which Sitalces had seen, though she had a great desire unto it; for She considered, that though his baggage was lost, and was the cause of it, yet the fault was not in him. Also since She could not tell him of it, without making him the Confident of her Husband's jealousy, she could not do it, thinking it would oblige Adonacris too much, and consequently reflect upon her honour: But considering, that though She had now the liberty to talk unto him, yet She was never like to have it again, She could not choose but sigh. Adonacris observing it, and seeing her eyes full of curiosity: I know Madam (said he unto her) that I shall very ill acquit myself of that Commission which Eliorante hath given me to divert you; and I know too well by that sigh which I heard, that my company is not pleasing enough to keep you from some angry thoughts: Doubtless Sir, replied She, my thoughts do not please me, but I will be so just as not to accuse you for it, and ask your pardon that I do not force myself unto more complacency. Oh Madam (said Adonacris) It is most injurious to ask this pardon; and I have more reason to complain that you will not tell me the cause of that sigh, then complain of you for sighing: For truly Madam, methinks the least part that I can pretend unto in your confidence, is that of your sorrows: But Madam, to show that I am easily contented in my passion, I will ask of you less than ever any Lover did, and declare unto you, that if you will be pleased to grant it, I will never complain of you. Though you may ask it Sir, replied She, as my Lover, yet you shall never obtain it: I will ask then as your friend Madam, replied he, since the name of Lover is offensive to you; but I beseech you let it be as a friend who loves none else but you, nor ever will: I only ask the favour to know all your griefs; conceal all your joys from me, but I beseech you make me a Partner in your sorrows, and let me know why you sighed. After this, I am confident you will not say I ask too much, and that my affection is hard to be satisfied, since I only ask to be a sharer in a sigh, and to know the cause of it. In demanding that Sir, replied Noromata, you ask perhaps more than you are aware, and more than I can grant: The truth is, there are some sorrows which one cannot impart without being too much engaged, and my humour is such, that the most engaging thing which I can do for those I love, is to trust them with mine, and to make them sharers with me. Then Madam (replied Adonacris) I beseech you tell me what it was which made you sigh, for I must confess I cannot understand the cause of it? Without further examination of causes, replied She, I assure you I neither can nor will tell you; for the truth is Adonacris, reason will not permit me to put confidence in a man whom I ought not to see, and unto whom I ought not to speak as I do, if I should keep myself to the limits of exact virtue: And this is the last day I intent to hold any private conference with you, and to behave myself so, as you shall have none with me, for I will never upbraid myself with doing more than I ought to have done: Alas Madam (said Adonacris) if you do now no more than you ought, it may be said that you do nothing; for it is impossible one should do less than you have done: But Madam, if it be your resolution that I shall never talk with you in private after this day, than you must this day regulate all the rest of my life, and tell me what is your pleasure I shall do: I do profess I will never either do, or say, or think any thing which shall displease you: If so, replied Noromata, I will once in my life make use of that power which I have over you; but Adonacris, it shall be in commanding you to live as well with Argirispe, as I am resolved to do with Sitalces, and in conjuring you not to tell so much as yourself, that ever you loved me, nor to think any more of any thing which may renew the memory of our friendship. Alas Madam, replied Adonacris, if you would be obeyed, you must command such things as can be done; but here you command me three things, two of which are absolute impossibilities, and the other an extreme difficulty: I must Madam, maugre you command, tell myself, that I do love you, since it is not your pleasure I should tell you of it; I must needs, I cannot choose, but think of you, since you will not give me leave to talk to you. Yes, yes Madam, I must both think and speak of you, since I can neither think or speak of any thing else, not but that I have done all I am able to forget you: But alas, I have done it in vain, for wheresoever I go, and whatsoever I do, my imagination is all on you: I have been in the Wars, and in the very heat of fight, and most dangerous occurrencies my mind hath still kept to its ordinary object: if I come into any company where you are not, I presently lament your absence, and value not their presence: I never walk out but my mind is pleasingly filled with a thousand thoughts of what you have done, and of what I have heard you say, and my sleep is nothing but dreams of you: And Madam, if I could tell you without hinting my crimes unto you, I would say, that I did not marry Argirispe without a thought of Noromata, as perfidious as She hath been unto me; and if I could show you the true state of my soul, when after your example I did for ever engage myself you would see that my heart disavowed all the words of engagement which my tongue pronounced, and I thought more of what I lost, than what I got; yet for all this, you are so unjust as to command me not to think any more of you: But let me tell you Madam, that if the Gods be just, they will force you to think of me, and they will grant me so much favour, as to cause you many an angry minute by my being much in your mind: In wishing as I do (replied She) that the Gods will give you the same tranquillity of mind which I wish unto myself, I am more just than you are; and consequently have reason to believe, that they will rather hear my prayers then yours: But Madam, I beseech you (said he unto her) what hurt can a pure innocent passion do you, when it is locked up in my heart? And what matter is it when I am out of your sight, whether I think of you or no? So I could think that you do not think of me (replied She) doubtless it would not at all concern me, but still it would concern you, that you might be more at rest. Then Madam (said he unto her, and looked upon her with amorous eyes) I may hope when I see you not, that you will think to guests whether I think upon you or no, and consequently I am not so miserable as I imagined; for it is some consolation to know, that you have not banished me out of your memory, though out of your heart. Oh Madam, for heaven's sake (added he with most passionate earnestness) do not deny every thing to a Lover, who is not of their humours, which think felicity consists in the highest favours, but on the contrary, he knows how to multiply the delight, by the price which he will set upon the meanest favours, Permit me Madam, I beseech you, only to think of you, and to believe, that sometimes you do me the honour to think of me, and I shall not murmur at your excessive rigour: I should think that what I ask cannot offend you, nor would it be a grand crime, if I beseeched you to pronounce the name of Adonacris sometimes: For my part I do protest unto you Madam, that the name of Noromata is very often in my 〈…〉 th', and it is a sound so agreeable to me, that I cannot hear it without abundance of 〈…〉ght: But Madam, I assure myself that mine is not so to you; and you can hear it pronounced a thousand times without the least alteration in your colour.  
As Adonacris said so, Noromata (who was vexed at herself in secret that She was not so insensible as he said She was) could not choose but blush. So that Adonacris observing it, he was now as full of curiosity to know the cause of that blush, as he was before to know the cause of the sigh: But since Noromata's modesty would not give her leave to tell him, She only left him so much subject, as whereby he might guests that her heart entertained no disadvantageous thoughts of him; for he importuning her to tell him her thoughts, and She thinking upon her design of going unto Sitalces, and parting from Adonacris, the tenderness of her soul did appear more in her eyes then She desired it should, and her very words did utter something to him against her mind; for as he did importunately press her to tell him her thoughts a little more clearly, and what her pleasure was to command him, she gave him an answer much more favourable than She intended one quarter of an hour before: You are so very importunate (said she unto him) that because I would be rid of you, I will confess ingenuously, that I am not so absolute a Mistress of my heart, as of my actions, and that my thoughts and my words do not agree, and that when I command you to forget me, yet I should not have been very glad if you had obeyed me; all I can say unto you Adonacris is, that what resolutions soever I have taken, to do always what I ought to do, yet I perceive I should more easily pardon you if you do not forget me, that I should myself; if I do not. In the mean time, whether I banish you out of my heart or not, yet I will so behave myself towards you, as if you had not the least share in it, and after this Adonacris, ask me no more; I know that I do give you more obliging language than I would, and the words which I pronounced do make me blush as oft as I remember them: But for all that, the infidelity which my obedience to my Father did make me commit against you, doth merit doubtless that I should punish myself, and comfort you; and therefore, though I have said more unto you then did become me, yet I do not repent of it, though I know I shall repent as soon as you are gone. You have reason Madam, replied Adonacris, to repent of what you have said, for it is so little obliging unto me, that I conceive you have great cause of repentance.  
As Adonacris pronounced these words, Eliorante returned; so that Noromata fearing that She would speak before him of that office which She was to do for her, and fearing lest his Love should guests at her secret intention, She went towards Eliorante, and understood from her, that what She desired should be effected before the day was done, Eliorante assuring her that it rested only upon this, That the wife unto the servant of Sitalces who was to go and visit her sick Husband, was not to depart until the next morning. Noromata having obtained her wish, thanked Eliorante for the favour, and took her leave immediately, but when she turned towards Adonacris to salute him, and it coming into her thoughts that perhaps She should never see him again, such a deep melancholy did seize upon her Spirit, that tears stood in her eyes. But she no sooner perceived this weakness in herself, but she hasted out, lest it should be observed: So pulling her Hood hastily down, She did the better hide those impressions of sorrow which came from her heart unto her face: But though She had wit enough to hide, yet She had not power of overcoming her sad resentments, but passed over all that day and the night following in such transports of violent sorrow, as She confessed since, that She was never in all her life in so sad a condition. However, her virtue being above her sorrows, she kept close unto her resolution of going unto her Husband, and to persuade him that She did not obstruct his liberty, nor desire the society of Adonacris. And in order to this, she made choice of two ancient servants unto Sitalces to conduct her, and a woman to go with her, giving order that a Coach should be ready by break of day, but not her own Coach, lest her design should be discovered. And to the end her departure should not be known until she was gotten far enough from Tipanis to be overtaken, if Agatherses should send after her, this virtuous Lady commanded her women which she left at Tipanis to let none come into her Chamber for three days after, and to tell all the rest of her Domestiques that she was sick, having to this end imparted her design unto an old Physician her friend, who promised to come unto her Chamber, as if she were really sick. And to the end he should not be ill treated by Spargapises and Agatherses when the thing was discovered: It was agreed upon that he should say he was deceived, and that one of Noromata's women did counterfeit her voice, and lay in her bed, and the Curtains being drawn, he thought it to be her Mistress, and that she was sick. Moreover, she writ a Letter unto Eliorante, giving orders to deliver it three days after her departure. To be short, the business was carried so well, that none of her servants knew it, except those who were of the conspiracy. So that putting the woman which was to go with her in the best place of the Coach, She caused her to speak unto the Keepers of the Gates, and show them her Passport, which was to let her pass out with one woman, and two men to conduct her. Thus it being very early, and not light enough to know one another, She easily got out undiscovered, but not without much sorrow; for when She was out of the Town, and began to think that perhaps She should never see Adonacris again, whom She so tenderly loved, and that She was going to abide eternally with Sitalces, whom She loved not, her sadness was above expression, and her journey was the most melancholy that is imaginable, yet sometimes She rejoiced in the doing of an act of so much heroic virtue, but sometimes again this joy did cost her very dear: However, She passed over her journey without any obstacle, for all the Troops of Spargapises obeyed the Passport, and when She came into the Quarters of Ariantes, She discovered herself unto the Commander in Chief, and desired a Guard to be conducted unto Issedon, where She arrived sooner than She desired, though her resolution was yet to go unto it.  
But Sir, before I tell you how Sitalces received her, I must acquaint you with some passages at Tipanis, be pleased to know therefore, that Noromata's orders were so well obeyed, that every one believed her to be at home, yes Adonacris did believe it more really than any other; so that he passed over these three days well enough; yet at the end, Eliorante received Noromata's Letter, which desired pardon for deceiving her, and concealing her design, and which intimated unto her, that She was gone to her Husband and to solicit Ariantes for his liberty. But when Eliorante received this Letter, Adonacris was with her, and She not being able to conceal her admiration, did acquaint him with the cause of it. You may well imagine Sir, that the admiration of Adonacris was above Eliorantes, and he cried out so loud when he heard that Noromata had not been in Tipanis this three days, that Eliorante who had a most sharp wit, began to suspect that he had a far greater interest in this departed Lady, than ever She imagined. How Madam (said he unto her) is not Noromata here? You will see that by her Letter (said She and showed it him) and you will doubtless say that Noromata is the best Wife in the world. Adonacris taking the Letter did read it with as much grief as wonder, and with as much wonder at Noromata's virtue, as at her beauty. When he had done reading the Letter, Agatherses came in, who understanding how squares went, did think it still convenient for him to make a show as if he were much troubled at Noromata's departure, purposely to make Elibesis believe that he loved Noromata: So that expressing much grief, he was much more zealous than Adonacris, who durst not express his. However, the business had no remedy, for in all probability before Noromata could be overtaken, She would be in the Quarters of Ariantes, where he could not stay her. So that Adonacris seeing he had nothing else to do but lament, he retired to his Chamber, but with so sad a soul, that I am confident never was such a sudden alteration seen as was in his face; indeed he was not the same man he was before, and sorrow was so apparent in his eyes, and he had such a deadly paleness in his cheeks, that any one would have said he was not only sadly afflicted, but that he would not live, and yet his condition was worse within an hour after he was gone from Eliorantes.  
And Sir, to acquaint you with the cause of the augmentation of his sorrows, give me leave to acquaint you, how by an unparallelled example of Fortune, the very same time that Noromata out of her virtue went unto her Husband, Argirispe out of her jealousy, came to hers.  
Thus when Noromata came to Issedon, Argirispe came to Tipanis, and came just in the height of Adonacris his sorrows for the departure of Noromata; and being conducted by an Officer of Spargapises his Army, who brought her to Tipanis, and made her known unto that Prince and Agatherses, they did receive her with much civility; and thinking that Adonacris would be very pleasingly surprised at the sight of her, they caused her to be conducted unto his Chamber, before he was acquainted with her coming. I being then with the grieved Adonacris, am able to relate their meeting as an eye-witness: But Sir, I am not able to represent unto you the wonder of this sad Lover, when he saw her enter; Truth is, it was so great, and his soul was in such a maze, that he was not Master of his own thoughts; so that in lieu of hiding that sorrow which appeared in his face, and anger meeting with his melancholy, he seemed more desirous to quarrel with her, then to salute her. Yet bethinking with himself, that in relation unto Noromata's interest, his best way was to force himself, Love did more than his reason could to persuade him, and he did so strive with himself, that he almost made his sorrows to seem only wonder, and endeavoured to persuade Argirispe that his sadness was only an effect of his imprisonment: Therefore he saluted her very civilly, and expressed himself as handsomely as was requisite at such a meeting.  
But Argirispe being witty and jealous also, She dived so far into his heart, that as soon as She set her eyes upon him, She saw, that She was the cause of his grief, and Agatherses telling her at first, how Noromata's design and hers did strangely parallel, She easily apprehended that her Husband grieved only for the absence of that fair one. So that though the departure of Noromata did leave her thoughts in some doubt, yet the sadness of Adonacris did confirm her in her jealousy: And I can assure you, that this meeting had nothing of sweet & pleasingness in it. In the mean time, since Eliorante came to offer Argirispe all the accommodations within the compass of her power, Adonacris took that time to go unto some place where he might lament. And taking me aside, we went presently after unto a Closet, in which we no sooner were, but he broke out into most sad expressions of the pitiful condition wherein he was; his greatest perplexity was, that being a man excellently qualified, he could not be imperious over Argirispe, nor could he rid himself that way from the cruel persecution in which he was; and certainly he gave it a true Epithet of persecution; for Eliorante was no sooner gone, but this jealous woman twitted him with all imaginable malice: Truly (said She unto him) if you had fallen in love with Noromata after our marriage, you could be accused only of weakness and unconstancy; but being in Love with her before you may (and with abundance of reason and Justice) be charged with perfidiousness, with treason, and with indiscretion: Pray tell me, how could you ever think to live happily with one you loved not? Do not deceive yourself, and deny your love unto the Wife of Sitalces, for I have in my hands all her Letters to you, and I know very well that you are a Prisoner unto Spargapises, only because you are the Slave of Noromata. Also I know very well, that you did with a premeditated design absent yourself, only to be far off from her you loved not. To testify my sincerity (answered he) I will ingeniously confess that I did love Noromata, and that I do still hold her virtues in the same admiration; but I protest Madam, that I do hold no private correspondency with her, and those Letters you have of hers to me were written before her marriage, and consequently before you were. I further protest, that since that, I never received any more from her but common civility, and in all likelihood it will be long before I shall see her again, perhaps never. Moreover, though it were so, that such a passion had seized upon my soul, as I could not master, yet were I not too blame, since I was not able to overcome it, and since I should behave myself never the worse towards you: Therefore Madam, since I am able to assure you, that I never received the least favour from Noromata, and since you never receive any rudeness or incivility from me, I hope I may well beseech you to rest satisfied, and let me be at rest also. But Argirispe did not do as Adonacris desired her, but went from him in a chafe, telling him sharply, that since he went about to delude her, She would carry herself as one that would not be deluded, but as one that knew all his weaknesses and infidelities; but that which most nettled her, was to see, that all She said unto Adonacris did not anger him, and to see his Spirits so taken up with sorrow for the departure of Noromata, that he hardly minded what She said. So that She being vexed more and more, She vented such bitter expressions unto Adonacris, that he was forced to go into another Chamber. In the mean time, since he had no mind to be a Prisoner; but only because Noromata was at Tipanis, so now, he desired his liberty, since She was not there. So that the next morning he sent secretly to the Prince Ariantes, beseeching him now not to obstruct his liberty, because now he did very punctually know of all the designs of his Enemies, and consequently he would be useless at Tipanis Now Sir, I have acquainted you how Adonacris received Argirispe, give me leave to tell you in few words how Sitalces received Noromata. I assure myself Sir, that you will think her action generous enough to oblige her Husband unto a good reception of it and her, but it did not, for on the contrary, he received her very ill, and not putting any good construction upon her resolutions, he twitted her with the Letters which She had writ unto Adonacris; he told her She had not solicited for his liberty, and that She would not have come from Tipanis, but because She knew that Adonacris would not long continue there, and would release himself some other way then by the exchange which was propounded. All this while She took this unjust accusation so patiently, that She was not so much as moved against Sitalces, only saying without any bitterness, as much unto him as might justify herself, though her soul was full of grief as sorrow, to see her innocency so unjustly injured: But Sir, to abridge my relation as much as I may, the Prince Ariantes having received the Letter from Adonacris, he did no longer retard his release; and Agatherses desiring still to persuade Elibesis that he was in love with Noromata, did press on the exchange between Sitalces and Adonacris, to the end he might make her believe that he did it only to see her again, and indeed Elibesis did not only believe that he did it for Noromata's sake; but also She thought that Noromata, whose virtue She was well persuaded of, had not come out of Tipanis, but only to avoid the trouble which She was put unto by the affection of Agatherses: So that being extremely grieved, She would willingly have opposed her Brother's liberty, purposely to hinder Sitalces from carrying his Wife to Tipanis: But since handsomeness would not allow her to do so, She dissembled her resentments, lest Ariantes should guests the cause of them. But all things being concluded upon on both sides, it was resolved that Sitalces and his Wife should that same day depart from Issedon unto Tipanis; that Adonacris and Argirispe should set out of Tipanis to come for Issedon; and for an equal security of both sides, these four persons were to meet in a place, which was just between the Quarters of both Armies, to the end that the Convoy which brought Adonacris and Argirispe from Tipanis, might carry Sitalces and Noromata thither, & that Convoy which brought Noromata & Sitalces from Issedon, might carry Argirispe & Adonacris thither. So that by this means Sir, these four persons saw each other, and talked together. In the mean, Sitalces & Argirispe were extremely vexed at this adventure, yet dine all together they must, for he who was to see this exchange performed on the part of Ariantes, being a man of a generous mind, he made these Prisoners and Ladies a very sumptuous Feast; so that the constraint of Sitalces and Argirispe continued very long; and it was the greater, because they durst not talk together, lest they should give Adonacris time to talk to Noramata; and yet they needed not to fear it, for Noromata did not only carefully shun talking with Adonacris, but even looking upon him also; ●et she could not be so careful, but he would sometimes look in her eyes, and find much sorrow in them, and he carried it so cunningly, that whilst he who treated them was talking to Sitalces and Argirispe, he spoke unto Noromata in a low voice, and conjured her to confess that Fortune was extremely unjust in not letting Sitalces carry Argirispe unto Tipanis, and him her unto Issedon. But Noromata being resolved to be neither sweet nor sharp with him, would not give any answer, and seeming not to hear him, She changed place, not so much as looking upon him, yet Adonacris made no question but that She heard what he said, and consented to it in her heart, for She could not choose but blush and sigh in changing her place. In the mean time, the hour of their parting being come, Adonacris, who did not love Argirispe, but loved Noromata, did take the way to Issedon; and Noromata, who did not love Sitalces, but loved Adonacris, took the way to Tipanis, waited upon by her persecutor, and parting from the most respective Lover in the world; and She parted from him with so much settled resolution, that She did not so much as turn her head aside to look after him, but it was not so with Adonacris, for though he intended to restrain himself, lest he should incense Argirispe, yet he looked after Noromata as long as ever he could, and turned his head after her above twenty times when She was out of sight. I shall not any longer insist upon any aggravations of the various thoughts in all these persons, since it is sufficient to know the state of their souls by the state of their Fortunes. But give me leave to tell you Sir, that the end of Winter being come, both sides began to think of taking the Field. Agatherses had still the displeasure to know that Thomiris would have him still be wary of his Troops, and not to give Battle unless he was forced unto it, because She had some grand design which She would not publish; and Agatherses in his head of hatred unto Ariantes, he desired to tumble him presently from his Throne, and not to protract the War. And he so wrought upon the wise Terez, who had a great prevalency with Thomiris, that he persuaded him there was no way to ruin Ariantes but by Battle; so that this Princess did at last permit him to hazard a fight, if occasion was favourably offered. Agatherses not willing to lose a minute of time, caused Spargapises to draw his Troops first out of their Winter Quarters, and draw towards Issedon, which began to suffer much; because the Army of Ariantes had been close under the Gates of that Town all that sharp season.  
Ariantes also seeing his Enemies in such haste, did take the Field also, and went to take his leave of Elibesis with extraordinary melancholy, which was no good omen unto him; the greatest cause of his sadness was, because he knew almost of a certainty, that Elibesis did not value his love, but out of ambitious ends; so that his mind being filled with this thought, he could not choose but express something of it at his bidding her adieu. Since I know not Madam, said he unto her, whether fortune will smile or frown upon me, I must tell you, that I know not how you will look upon me when I shall return, nor know I Madam, whether you know it yourself, since my good or bad fortune depends upon the Fate of Arms: However, since it is not your pleasure I should be happy before the War be ended, yet I beseech you assure me, that I may lose a Battle, and yet not lose you: If you will be pleased to honour me with this favour Madam, I assure you, I shall not be easily overcome: But if you will not, alas sorrow itself will vanquish me before I fight: Methinks Sir (answered Elibesis very wittily) that I could answer you in not answering, only by beseeching you to answer yourself all that I would answer, if I should utter all the thoughts of my soul: Therefore Sir, since it is sufficient for you to imagine what I would say, if I would satisfy you it is better to employ that little time which I have of seeing you, in assuring you, that I shall spend the time of your absence in making prayers for your return, and in wishing most zealously, that I may soon see you return victorious over all your Enemies. More than this Sir do not ask me, unless you would have me think, that you seek out for a pretence of quarrelling with me: No Madam, I do not seek for any pretence of quarrelling with you, but it is you that seeks for a pretence of not giving me a direct answer. However, since it is your pleasure I should be kept in ignorance until the end of the War, I must obey, though I can tell you it is with much ado. After this, Ariantas left Elibesis, who to keep him upon such terms as She desired, did permit her eyes to tell him more than his mouth, to the end, that if he were victorious, he might be still her Slave, and She a Queen. In conclusion, She did so cunningly manage the mind of Ariantes, both by her looks, and the manner of her bidding him adieu, that he did almost repent of his suspitio●s, and parted from her not ill satisfied, though She did not say any thing that could engage herself to follow his Fortune, if it was not good. But in conclusion Sir, that Prince Ariantes departed from Issedon, and went unto his Army, which was not far off, and Adonacris had the comfort of being absent from Argirispe by following him; and well may I call it comfort, for She was perpetually twitting him, though he carried himself very civilly towards her, for all her jealousies of him. On the other side, Noromata had the pleasure of seeing Sitalces depart, and go unto the Army, and rid her from the most terrible persecution that is imaginable; for ever since She came from Issedon, until he left her at Tipanis, there was every day some jars passed between them: But Sir, not to trouble you with the jealous thoughts of Sitalces and Argirispe, nor with the tender and virtuous thoughts of Noromata, nor with the amorous imaginations of Adonacris, give me leave to tell you, that Agathersis having still a design in his heart to ruin his Rival, he neglected no occasions of it; for he did not only husband every advantage which the fate of Arms did give him, but also he held private correspondencies within Issedon, purposely to move the Inhabitants of the Town to rebel against Ariantes, during his absence. Fortune also was so favourable unto him, that at the first drawing into the Field, he put the Vanguard of Ariantes to the rout; and though this first occasion was not deep in blood, yet this first advantage served to quell the hearts of that Prince's side, and to encourage the opposite Party, not but that Spargapises lost as many men of Quality as Ariantes did; but yet he being the Master of the Field, Fame did Trumpet him victorious: But Sir, the most remarkable passage of this encounter was, that Sitalces was killed in it; and Noromata behaved herself so, as if She had no cause of rejoicing at his death; yet truly She did not more 〈…〉 in the deepest blacks, but kept such an even temper in all her actions, that no one living could lay any fault to her charge. She also had the happiness to know, that it was not Adonacris who killed ●italces, for he was not in the fight; indeed it was the wi●e Terez, who commanded the Reserve Brigade that day, and it was Terez, who with his own hand killed Sitalces: 'Tis true, he revenged his death by the last blow he struck, for it wounded him so deep and dangerously, that this wise and experienced Captain was stonied, and could not get up on horseback. But Sir, though the death of Sitalces did at first give some satisfaction unto Adonacris, because he thought that now Noromata would be at rest and liberty, yet afterwards it did double his torment; for when he considered, that had he not married Argirispe, he had married Noromata, his mind was most lamentably tormented; but to ease himself, he intended to let Noromata know his mind: So that sending one of his servant● secretly unto Tipanis, hoping that Noromata, now having no jealous Husband to fear, she would not startle at a Letter from him, since now all decency did allow her to receive any Letter from an absent friend: But his hope was ill bottomed; for Noromata was so far from receiving or answering it, that she refused it and was angry at him, though still she retained much tenderness towards him. On the other side, Argirispe was so extremely troubled at the death of Sitalces, that she was almost stark mad; resenting it as a most considerable loss, since she whom Adonacris loved, had lost one of the most jealous husbands in the world. But the wonder of all is, Argirispe being a little ill when she heard of Sitalces his death, she was then in such a fear of death, lest then Adonacris should marry Noromata, that she fell into a very violent favour, and died in earnest: I shall not tell you Sir, how Adonacris took her death, for having described him before, to be a very accomplished man, you may well imagine that he would not express any joy; but having also described him in love, you may well think he was no great mourner.  
In the mean time, Agatherses making his best use of his victory he did so negotiate by his counsels that Spargapises was advised by him in all things, and therefore it was resolved to give a deciding battle: And though it did not concern the interests of Ariantes to hazard any thing lightly; yet give battle he must, because he understood from Octomasedes, that if he did not vanquish presently, the people of Issedon would revolt, for they grew weary of the war. But Sir, though this Prince did as much as any great and valiant Captain could, yet he lost the battle, and was forced to hide himself in a poor Sheperds' hut; in the midst of a thick wood: intending to save his person from the victory of his Rival, and in the night time to get into Issedon. And to do it more safely, he sent one of his servants to spy out the paths of the wood, to serve him as a guide: But Sir, the return of this servant brought him abundance of grief; for he brought him an Officer whom that Prince had left in Issedon, and whom this servant did accidentally meet: This Officer told him that at the very same time the battle was fight, there was a sedition raised in Issedon by the friends of Agatherses: And that his enemies were become masters of the Town after a sharp dispute; After which they sent unto Spargapisses to tell him, that if Thomiris would pardon their rebellion, they were ready to enter into her obedience: So that I am confident Sir, (added this Officer) that Spargipises is at this very hour the master of Issedon; for I saw a far off, some of his Troops marching that way.  
Ariantes hearing this sad news, was extremely sad: but love being still above his ambition, he never asked any particulars of this disorder, but asked him very hastily what news of Elibesis: Sir, answered the Officer, the Father of Elibesis no sooner heard how squares went, but he departed the Town with all his household, and consequently carried his daughter with him, fearing doubtless to fall into the power of Spargapises, until things were better settled. Afterwards Ariantes asked him whether he knew which way Elibesis went; and the Officer telling him that he thought unto a Castle which belonged unto Tissagettes some three hundred furlongs from Issedon. This Prince having neither Army nor place of retreat, resolved to go whether his love invited him, believing that the father of Elibesis would not deny him reception into his house which was very strong; and where he might rally together some part of his shattered Army: But Sir, this Prince was deceived in his hope●▪ For Elibesis would not receive him but upon condition he would depart the next morning, telling him, that this house was not strong enough to resist a victorious Army, and therefore would not expose her and his family unto ruin: But Sir, the thing which struck him even dead with sorrow, was That when he saw Elibesis, he found her much different from what she was at Issedon; and far from following his fortunes when she saw it ill. Yet this Prince did accost her in such an humble submissive manner (as I understood since by one of her women) that the heart of any but hers would have melted. Now Madam, (said he unto her, with a most melancholy look) I am come to know whether I have lost your affection in losing the battle; and whether you have chased 〈◊〉 out of your heart, as they have chased me out of Issedon. Truly Sir, (replied she) my soul is so disturbed with fears, that I cannot tell you what to think and as the state of your fortune stands, I do not think my affection can do you any good, for when you have overwhelmed me under the ruins of that Throne upon which you intended to set me, you will be never the better: Therefore Sir, let me advise you to think upon your own safety, and think no more of me: Fie Madam (said he and looked upon her with wonder) are you so inhuman as to discover the neutrality of your soul unto me upon such an occasion as this? I begun the war only to make you a Queen, and will you forsake me as soon as fortune forsakes me? will you not favour me so far as to dissemble part of your thoughts? Ah Madam, this is so strange that I cannot believe I rightly understood you, and therefore I beseech you explain your words, and tell me what I must truly think of you; you may think Sir, that I would do any thing in my power to make you mount a Throne (replied she) But you must think withal, that since I am not able to alter your fortune, I will not foolishly and to no purpose follow it: nor can I see which way your proposition to me can any way advantage or oblige me: I cannot tell whether it can any way oblige you Madam (replied he) but I am sure your expressions have not much generosity in them; And unless I be the basest of men, I shall hate you as much as ever I loved you: You may do even as you please Sir, (answered she) for truly my humour is to comply with the times, and change as they do: Then Madam, replied he, I see you know how to change with fortune, I know not Sir, how you can blame me for it, replied she, but I do think it commendable and wisdom so to do. Madam, said he, is it possible you should not apprehend that this act is so unworthy of yourself, that if Agatherses knew it, he would certainly esteem you much less? and I am most confident that as furious as he is, he would treat me better than you have done, if I should fall into his power, though he be both my enemy and my Rival. But Madam (added he to vex her) since his example tells me that it is not impossible to cease loving you, I shall hope to imitate him, and though I shall not be a King, yet I shall have some advantageous hopes of not being your slave, and I think that I shall be as great a gainer by getting out of your power, as I am a● loser by losing a Crown. After this, Elibesis wishing him heartily out of her father's house, lest Agatherses hearing he was there, should come and seek him, and lest he should fall into the power of a man who loved her not, she talked to him so sharply, that Ariantes not being able to endure it, did abruptly leave her, and going out of the Castle went to seek a Sanctuary with Octomasad●s his Cousin, or at least to stay a while with him concealed, to see if any remedy for his misfortune was to be found.  
In the mean time, the ambitious Elibesis, being vexed to the heart that she had lost Agatherses, and that her ambition did thrive no better, she could not avoid that misery which she feared, which was, that Agatherses would hear the Prince Ariantes had been at her father's house, and would come thither to look for him, as a punishment upon her for her inconstancy, for her ambition and hardness of heart unto Ariantes. Agatherses hearing he had been at the father of Elibesis Castle, he had no sooner carried Spargapises unto I●edon whose Inhabitants opened their Gates, but he went thither with some of his forces fancying high satisfaction in getting both his Rival and his Mistress into his power, and was in hopes of full revenge for all the miseries he had endured. But he was much surprised when coming to the Castle, and by a Herald demanded the Prince Ariantes, he was answered, that he was not there. At the first he would not believe it, but at last he was forced unto it, for Tissagettes being retired unto this Castle in the tumult, he sell very sick, and was not able to defend it if it were assaulted. So that conceiving the sooner he yielded, the better it would be for him; he resolved to treat, and to obtain liberty for himself and his daughter: And to that end thinking it was not possible that a man who had once loved Elibesis, should have any inveterate quarrel, he commanded her to parley with Agatherses, since he was in bed and not able to do it, desiring her to use her best ingenuity to move Agatherses not to bring him under the power of Thomiris. After which, giving notice unto Agatherses, that he would parley, and Agatherses consenting unto it, the Troop retreated, to make a void place before the Castle gate, before which, was a kind of Portal, which the Courts of guards in time of war made use of: And this place being chosen to treat in, Agatherses with a very small number of his men, advanced. But he was much surprised, when in lieu of seeing Tissagettes appear, he saw only his daughter, accompanied only with some few men and women: for he loved her still in spite of his teeth, and could not look upon her, without some agitation of spirits. Yet he was so fully resolved not to show any signs of love unto her, that the better to hide his weakness, he seemed to be a little arrogant; and he was so glad at heart to see Elibesis in lieu of being Queen, to stand in need of his protection, that easily surmounting the tenderness of his love, he carried himself as if he would gust his revenge with full delight: and after he had saluted Elibesis, there appeared such a kind of insolent joy in his face, as was enough to vex her: but that which most vexed her was, he would not give her leave to speak first: Madam (said he, and looked sternly upon her) you see I was not mistaken, when I told you heretofore, that Fortune would never do justice unto your merit in making you a Queen; but the worst is, in lieu of being a Queen, you must now be a Subject unto a Princess whom you have incensed. Since Thomiris is a Debtor unto your valour (replied Elibesis) for the Victory which her Son hath gotten, I hope She will not deny you any thing; but I will hope that you will obtain of her liberty for my Father, and all his Family.  
Since it were a most cruel thing to make a Queen a Slave (replied Agatherses to vex her) I will promise you Madam to move Thomiris so far, as that She will give me leave to set you at liberty, that you may follow the Fortune of Ariantes, and conduct you unto the place where he is retired; therefore Madam, if you know it, as I doubt not but you do, I beseech you acquaint me, that I may appoint a Convoy for you thither: Fie Agatherses (cried She) your revenge goes too far in saying so: Why Madam (replied he with a counterfeit wonder) do you take it ill I should offer to convoy you unto a Prince, for whose sake you forsook me? 'Tis true, he is no King, nor ever shall be, and in all probability is like to wander from Kingdom to Kingdom amongst stranger Princes; but for all that, it is to be thought, that when you contracted friendship with him, when you slighted my love to accept of his, you then considered what the sequel of his fortune might be, and resolved to follow it: For I must tell you ingeniously, it were unworthy if you should forsake a Prince because Eortune hath forsaken him, as you did me, because you saw him more hopeful than myself: If you did not love Noromata and hate Elibesis (replied She) you would not speak thus unto me, you would forget a weakness which ambition only caused, and endeavour to regain what you have lost: Since Madam this interview is upon a business of War, wherein love has no part, I shall not now make any exact explanation of my thoughts, it will be enough to tell you what I writ unto you before, that though I should love you more than ever I did, yet you would not accept it for the love of me; and though you should repent of what you have done, yet I am not beholding to you for it, since you changed only, because Fortune changed; and truly Madam, I desire not to be taken as the most happy, but as the most loved, and loved for something which is purely my own, and not for any collateral respects and reasons, which do not really relate unto the person: Therefore Madam, without any informing you whether I do love you, or whether I ever will love you, or without enquiring whether you love Ariantes, or whether you have cast him off, I only ask you what Tyssagattes demands of me: Had you been a little more inquisitive Sir, (replied She) perhaps you would not have repent it; but since you are not, let me tell you from my Father, that he desires Thomiris would pardon him, and that Spargapises would do the like, and permit him to live in quiet at his own house with his Family. Since Madam, replied he, his house is too strong to be in the hands of a Rebel, that must not be, but Tyssagettes and you must go to Issedon, and stay there till Peace be fully settled in the State, unless, as I told you before, you had rather follow the fortunes of Ariantes. Since we are not in a capacity to resist you, replied She, we must submit unto your will. Ah Madam, said he, had you gone out of Issedon when I desired you, you would have entered with more delight than now you are like, but since what's passed cannot be recalled, the future must be disposed according to my mind, and that you Madam shall have no more power in my heart, than Ariantes hath in the Kingdom of Issedon. It plainly appears, replied She, that I have none at all, since you insult so over one that is miserable, and will not so much as ask whether or no I am capable of repentance: I do never intend to inquire Madam (replied he) because though you should repent, yet I would not alter my resolution never to love you: Since it is so (said she, and would have left him in a fume) than I pray let me have your hatred, and with the same hand you tumbled Ariantes from his Throne, pull down, if you can, the Castle into which I enter, that burying me in its ruins, I may find an end of my miseries: No, no Madam (said he and stayed her) I will not do so, and as violent as you are, I will never pull down that Altar unto which once I sacrificed: So Madam, though I am fully resolved never to give you any signs of my love as long as I live, yet you shall taste of my generosity; and to revenge myself in a more noble way, I will so highly protect you, that perhaps I will force you to repent as long as you live of your behaviour to me; and to begin it Madam, I beseech you let Tyssagettes know, that provided he will let me conduct him to Issedon, and that you will accompany him, he shall shortly be readmitted unto the favour of Thomiris, and Spargapises, and shall not lose the least jot of his estate: So that Madam (except the heart which you have restored me, and which I will never render again) you may be in the same condition you were before you knew Ariantes. As that heart escaped me, replied Elibesis, so it may escape Noromata: No matter, replied he, whether Noromata keep it or no; but I tell you, that though it were absolutely in my own dispose, yet it shall never be yours: For Madam, should I render it unto you, perhaps when some other Usurper would come, and promise you a Crown, you would restore it me again: I could never have believed (said She) that you are able to be so tart; but since to my shame, I must confess, that I have merited some part of it, I will endure it as patiently as if I were altogether innocent; Yet I must tell you, that they have so much incensed my spirits, that I wish my Father would rather perish in his house, then to be obliged unto a man, who does things only out of revenge upon me. After this, Elibesis retired, though Agatherses would have stayed her: However, since Tyssagettes was of a milder temper than his Daughter, he accepted of the Proposition which Agatherses made, and accordingly the next morning, by reason of his sickness, he took Coach and went towards Issedon, Elibesis following him with her women. But Sir, I forgot to tell you, that before their departure, Agatherses who gave them a Convoy, and took command of the Castle, had private conference with Elibesis; but the wonder was, he found her changed since he saw her last; for be pleased to know, that Ariantes having received a Letter from Octomasades which gave him some new hopes, and that he had gathered together some Troops of his shattered Army, he writ unto her; That since he had not lost all his hopes, he beseeched her, since she was capable only of ambition, to look upon him yet as in a possibility of making her a Queen: So that Sir, this Lady, being now of another mind, She talked more sharply unto Agatherses than She did before, yet She still talked something, which made him see that it vexed her to think he did not love her. But as good Fortune for Agatherses would have it, as She went unto her Coach, Ariantes his Letter fell out of her pocket, Agatherses took it up unseen, and read it as soon as the Coach was gone; and imagining that these new hopes of Ariantes caused the arrogant alteration which he found in her, he was so extremely incensed, that had he followed the first motions of choler, he had sent after Tyssagettes and Elibesis, and had sent them Prisoners to the Tent-Royal; but I being then with him, and he acquainting me with the cause of his fury, I hindered him from following them; and told him, it was a better course to leave loving Elibesis any longer: I can do no more than strive, (replied he hastily) but I do profess this last weakness of hers, hath quashed all my love to her, and hath brought into my heart such a kind of hatred and scorn of her, that if I be not much mistaken in myself, these passions will be as violent in me, as ever my love was: Methinks I see Elibesis now with other eyes than I was wont; and I begin to think She hath not that beauty and spirit which methoughts She had. But Anabaris, though She were fairer than ever Venus is painted, and had more Charms than ever any had, yet for all this, I should hate her: You are now (said I unto him) in such a height of choler, that you do not know whether you do love or hate Elibesis. Ah Anabaris, said he unto me, it is not now with me, as heretofore it was, when you made me confess I loved her, though I thought I did not; and to testify it unto you, I profess, I wish she were as ill-favoured, as if she were a hundred years old, and I think I should wish her dead, were I not persuaded that Death is a remedy against all sorts of misery, and thereby She would escape all those I desire may fall upon her.  
I should never make an end Sir, if I should relate all that Agatherses said in his anger; and therefore to abbreviate the story, let me only tell you, that to give Ariantes no time of recruiting his forces, Agatherses went straight unto the place where he was, and did so absolutely quash him, that he was forced, as brave as he was, to save himself with Octomasades, Adonacris, and some servants in a thick Forest, where they found a little house. In the mean time, after they had considered what to do, they resolved to stay hid in that place for a while, and to send to inquire the state of things.  
But Sir, they soon heard that all obeyed Spargapises, and as things stood, there was no hopes left for them; yet they understood, that most people murmured much against Thomirss, because of her amorous passion, which they said her Soul was engaged, and that they had still a disposition to revolt: But since that conjuncture was not then fit to be made use of, and since in all probability She would not continue long in that mind, they resolved, that knowing Tyssagettes had made his Peace, Adonacris should secretly render himself to his Father, and afterwards, as occasion served, put all his friends at Issedon into a disposition of a new Rebellion.  
They resolved further, that Octomasades should go to the Prince of Callipides, and obtain fresh Forces when it should be time, and that Ariantes, who knew how ill the Queen his Sister had treated you Sir, should come unto your Army, and help you to deliver Mandana, who was then reported to be in Armenia, to the end, that obtaining esteem and amity, he might afterwards obtain some aid from you, in case Adonacris could bring things into a condition fit for a new Rebellion. But since it did nearly concern the Prince Ariantes, that Thomiris should not know where he was lest she should discover his designs, and hinder you from aiding him, he resolved to change his name, and take upon him that of Anaxaris, and the rather, because he was sure, that neither you Sir, nor any in the Court, could know him; for as Scythians are seldom seen in the Court of other Nations, so other Nations are seldom seen in the Court of Scythia.  
Thus Sir Ariantes became Anaxaris, and he met with you in Lydia. Octomasades, he went unto the Prince of the Callipides, and Adonacris went unto his friend's house, until he had made his Peace, which would easily be done. For to pacify things the sooner, a General Act of Pardon was granted unto all Rebels, except the Prince Ariantes, and Octomasades, who were the first beginners of this Revolt. But Sir, I forgot to tell you, that whilst Ariantes was hid in that Forest I spoke of, he writ un- Elibesis, who seeing his Fortune's desperate, did return him so sharp an answer, that this Prince began to cure himself of his passion towards her. And he told Adonacris, when he saw the Princess Mandana near the Castle of Hermes (as I remember) where he said that Princess delivered you Sir, that he then began to hope he had absolutely left loving Elibesis, and that he was so charmed with the beauty of Mandana, that he thought her a thousand times fairer than Elibesis.  
How's this, (said Cyrus and interrupted him) did Ariantes, who then called himself Anaxaris, and who was a Prisoner as well as I, when Mandana released me near the Castle of Hermes, did he begin that very day to love Mandana? He did not say Sir, that he began to love her that very day, replied Anabaris, but he said, That he began that day to leave loving Elibesis.  
However, to return from whence I digressed, and to acquaint you with the state of Ariantes, and his Affairs, I must tell you, that Agatherses hating Elibesis in his very Soul, would needs, as soon as he came at Issedon, (say what I could unto him) go and carry Ariantes Letter unto her, which She let fall as She took Coach; and which now he would needs restore, as an excuse of his last time of ever talking to her. And indeed, since he knew how to hate her, with as much violence as ever he loved her, he went unto her very early: So that Elibesis, who still loved him for all her ambition, imagined, that perhaps he would return unto her; for though she knew very well, that she had lost the Letter of Ariantes, yet she could not imagine that he had found it. But she was not long in that error; for as soon as ever he accosted her, he gave her the Letter: I beseech you pardon me Madam (said he unto her) for restoring it no sooner: But since in reading it, I found my Soul disposed to hate you, as much as ever I loved you, I desired to read it very often, to the end I might love you no longer; for as weak and ambitious as you were, I loved you, even when I told you that I did not. But now, thanks unto my own spite, I am come to that pass, as I do not only not love you, but I do hate you, and hate with as quiet and calm a hatred, as ever any was capable of. And I assure you, I never had more pleasure heretofore in telling you that I loved you, than I have now in telling you that I hate you, and ever shall do, as long as I live. Moreover Madam, never think that this is so, because I love Noromata; for I do protest, I neither do, nor ever did love her, for you were the cause I never loved any; for I looked upon all fair women in general, only as beautiful objects, without any capitulation. But now I look upon you in particular, as one of the weakest, the most ambitious, and perfidious person in the world: And now Madam, I have no more to say unto you: I wish, said she, that you had said less; but since you tell me plainly that you hate me, I must do the like, and hate you: Agreed Madam (replied he, and did rise up) But if you know not how to hate, better than you know how to love, your hatred will never do me any great harm. Upon these words Agatherses left her, and went from her so well satisfied with what he had said, that it was very apparent he did not love her.  
Thus this woman, who would needs entertain both love and ambition at once, did not satisfy either of those two passions; and it may well be said, that she did not 〈…〉 gn in the heart of Agatherses, but only because she would needs reign over Issedon. And thus, after she had lost two Lovers, the same passions still remained gnawing in her heart, so as She became so melancholy, and so unhealthful, that she became extremely ugly Moreover, Adonacris hath chid her a thousand times for her behaviour, both towards Agatherses and towards Ariantes: So that her her own fault did bring all sorts of misery upon her. In the mean time, Adonacris was no sooner at liberty to do what he would, and all the Kingdom quiet, but he prepared himself for Tipanis, yet that labour was saved: For Noromata having some business of importance at Issedon, she came thither just as he was ready to depart it: You may well imagine Sir, that the meeting of these two persons was no more pleasing at Issedon, then when Fortune brought them together at Tipanis: for then Adonacris was Husband unto Argirispe, as Sitalces was unto Noromata; but now, they were both free, yet Noromata made some scruple of marrying him so soon  
But her Father having changed his opinion of Adonacris, because now he thought him unloosed from the interests of Ariantes. This Marriage was made as soon as they returned to the Tents Royal, and solemnised in mighty magnificence. Thus the adventure of Agatherses and Adonacris, did both end very happily; for that of Agatherses ended with the recovery of his liberty, and that of Adonacris in the enjoyment of his Mistress; Agatherses bragged, that he thought himself more happy in enjoying himself, than his Mistress.  
After this, when all was quiet, Spatgapises ret 〈…〉 to Tho 〈…〉 ris, and Agatherses after a voyage to her, and was Crowned with Laurels of that Victory which he had obtained, he returned to Issedon, where he lived as he did before the War, to wit, not caring for any above him, or any thing else, but to enjoy his friends, and please himself. On the other side, Adonacris amidst all his joys did not forget his promises unto the Prince Ariantes, but on the contrary, he transacted with so much wisdom (after Spargapises was returned to Thomiris, and Terez carried away in his Coach) that he had laid a plot, and carried it so judiciously, that nothing was discovered. The truth is, there was much more facility in the matter, because both the Issedonians and the Massagettes did extremely murmur to see how carelessly Thomiris dispatched the affairs of her two Kingdoms, since her passion was above her reason; and that which most incensed the people was, because they saw continual preparations of War, and could not see an Enemy that Princess had to fight with. So that Adonacris closing with such a favourable opportunity, did not depart from Issedon to come unto Ariantes, until after he had brought things into a condition of commanding in one day the Metropolis of the Kingdom, and Tipanis, and until an Army from the Prince of Callipedes entered, which Octomasades had negotiated, and levied men under another pretence. So that by this means Ariantes will hazard to spoil all the design, by carrying away Mandana; for he told Indatherses, that if he did not find the design of getting upon a Throne infallible when he came upon the Frontiers of the Massagettes, he would negotiate with Thomiris, knowing very well, that considering her affection to you, he could certainly make his peace with her, by bringing the Princess Mandana into her power, and by demanding her protection to marry her, and to defend her against you Sir: And certainly Sir, I make no question but this negotiation takes; for that Princess is so fully bend either to make you change your mind Sir, or else to be revenged of you, by declaring War, that she hearing I condemned such an unjust enterprise, was so incensed against me, as for the security of my person I came out of her Dominions. And since Fame Trumpets the glory of your Arms Sir through the whole earth, I resolved to employ the time of my Exile, in being a witness of all those glorious actions, of which Renown makes a noise through all the world. But as Fate assembles and severs friends and enemies as she pleaseth, in coming hither, I met the servant of Adonacris, who carried me to the place where his Master was, from whom I received the knowledge of these last Occurrences, after we had renewed our ancient acquaintance.  
Anabaris having ended, Cyrus said he was much obliged to him for acquainting him with many things, which might help him to prevent the design of Ariantes. Also he desired him, to assure Adonacris that he would be glad to serve him. After which, to make use of this intelligence, he dispatched another Post to Gelonide, to inform her of all, that might hinder Thomiris from having Mandana in her power.   
The End of the First Book.   

ARTAMENES, OR The Grand CYRUS. The Nineth Part. Book. II.  
AFfter Cyrus had well examined all the intelligence concerning Ariantes, which he received from the friend of Adonacris, he concluded, that his best course was to execute his former resolution, and to march towards the Massagettan Country, to the end he might fall upon Themiris, if she received Mandana with intentions of keeping her, or upon Ariantes, if he carried her to Issedon. So that the next morning betimes giving out all requisite orders, and himself ordering the ways which every Troop was to take, he departed two days after: But before he went, he visited Adonacris (Indatherses being with him) with whom he had so much discourse, as let him see, that Anabaris gave a true Character of him, when he so highly commended him. This visit was more than a visit of civility, for Cyrus told Adonacris, that being acquainted with his virtues by Indatherses, he desired him to go unto the Prince Ariantes, and endeavour to bring him unto reason, and make him repent of that unjust resolution which he had taken: Sir, replied Adonacris, though you had not made this Proposition unto me, yet I would have addressed myself unto you for liberty to do as you command me. But Sir, since the high esteem which I know the Prince Ariantes hath of you, and the obligations upon him, as Anaxaris could not dissuade him from following his passion, I fear I shall not prevail with him; yet I am resolved to do what I can, both for your sake and his, as soon as my wounds will permit me. After this, Cyrus embraced Anabaris also, who offered to do him all the service he was able in delivering Mandana, knowing that the liberty of that Princess would prevent the desolation of his Country. As for Indatherses, though he had cured himself of his dotage upon Thomiris, yet for all that he was not altogether neuter and indifferent; but on the contrary, he could not choose but wish as generous as he was, that nothing might succeed happily unto her. So mixing a thought of revenge unto the interests of Cyrus whom he highly honoured, he followed him with much joy.  
This march having much wearied his Army, he thought it convenient to make a halt before he advanced any further towards Thomiris, whom he knew had a hugely numerous Army. Also not yet knowing where Mandana was, he thought good to get more intelligence before he went any further; but he stayed not long for it, because the third day, as he was talking with the Prince Mazares, and the Prince Myrsiles, Feraulas returned, who by his looks made Cyrus to know that he had some news concerning his Princess. For heaven's sake, dear Feraulas (said he at first unto him) tell me quickly what news of Mandana? For I know by your eyes that you have something to tell me of her. 'Tis trne Sir, replied he, I can tell you something which you desire to know: but the worst is, I can tell you nothing that will please you: Be pleased to know, that in obedience to your orders, I went unto the next Port to the place where I left you; but Sir, in lieu of finding many Ships to follow Ariantes, I found but one that was fit to sail the same hour: So that embarking with twenty of those men which you gave me, I left the rest to get into other Ships which were preparing; and I told my Pilot, that my design was only to cross the Sea towards Colchides, in hopes to hear some news of a Ship which I was in quest of: Indeed Sir, I was so fortunate as to understand from some Fishers, that they saw such a Ship as I enquired after, which though it had not a favourable wind, yet still made forward: So that hoping it was the same I desired to find, I desired my Pilot to steer that way, and to follow it. To say the truth Sir, it plainly appeared, that the Gods were pleased you should know where Mandana is; for after this, I still met with Barks or Ships which met with that I followed: That which did confirm me in my opinion this Ship was Ariantes, was, because the Captain of a Ship I met with told me, that he saw upon the Deck of that which I enquired after, two very fair Ladies, which seemed to be much troubled, and a third, whose face he could not see, because she was always wiping her eyes as if she wept. This Sir made me very glad; but gladder I was when he told me, that the Pilot which guided this Ship I enquired after, had conference with him I met, and asked him whether he might safely Land near that place where the River Phases empties itself into the Euxine Sea; and this Pilot assuring him that he might, provided he took the water at full tide, and avoided one Rock which the water covered near that place. I made use Sir of all this, and made immediately unto the place where Ariantes would land, but he having much the start of me, make what hast I could, he was landed before I came there: But 'tis true, I understood that he had carried the Princess Mandana unto a Castle not above six furlongs from thence, and which is seated upon the River Phases. But now my greatest fear was, that if I showed myself, I should be known by those who followed Ariantes, and Andramites. So that to hear more certainly, I sent those to Land whom I brought from the Port where I first embarked, but they being a company of dull fellows, I was not a jot the better informed; all they could tell me was, that it was a thing impossible for me to attempt the delivery of that Princess, for Ariantes and Andramites did so carefully guard her, and the Castle was naturally so very strong, that all would be in vain: So that having only twenty men, I could do nothing more than as a Spy. Then after many day's patience, I could devise no better way, then to endeavour the getting one of Ariantes men into my Ship, that I might out of him get some light of Ariantes his design, and to keep him there.  
So that making choice of three resolute Soldiers, I put them into the habit of Mariners; after which, they went and fell in conference with them of a Ship upon that Port; for being all of them idle, when they are off their Guard, they have nothing to do but to walk, and hunt some of those birds which Phases gives a name unto, and of which there are a great abundance in that River. So that after they were landed, and had walked and hunted together, and talked of several indifferent things, those of Ariantes Ship desired those I sent to come into their Ship, and they to render civility for civility, invited them into theirs. So it chanced that almost all those who were invited, were called away upon some business, and only one of them stayed behind them. Here Sir may the order of Providence be wondered at, for this man who stayed behind, chanced to be one of Mandana's Guard, and a man best able to satisfy me in all I desired to know: So that as soon as he was in my Ship, I showed myself unto him, and so amazed him, that imagining you were there also, and would throw him overboard, as a punishment for his crime, he threw himself at my feet: For heaven's sake Feraulas, said he, I beseech you save my life; for if our Prince will spare me, I shall inform him of such things, as may perhaps deliver Mandana. You may well imagine Sir, that I promised his life unto him, upon condition he would be as good as his word, and indeed I made such use of his fears and hopes, that he told me all he knew. And Andramites having lost his man after the Combat, he had entertained this fellow to wait upon him, until he found his own, or got another. So that this man being very intimate with him, he often heard the discourse of Ariantes and Andramites concerning their designs. Pray Feraulas (said Cyrus and interrupted him) tell me quickly if you know them: I shall tell you Sir, replied Feraulas, how I understand by this Guard, that though the Prince Ariantes has a great mind to make himself King of Issedon; yet he had rather preserve Mandana, then conquer a Kingdom, and hazard the losing of her, not doubting but both you and Thomiris will fall upon him, if he carry her unto Issedon.  
So that caring for nothing but how to keep Mandana, he was no sooner ashore, but he writ unto Thomiris, and to all his friends about her, beseeching her to forget what was past, and he would solemnly renounce all his claim unto the Crown of Issedon, and pretend unto nothing but the quality of her Subject, provided she would receive Mandana into her Court, that she would promise never to render her unto you Sir, but use her best endeavours that he might marry her. Thus Sir, you may well conceive, that Thomiris would not refuse a Proposition which would assure her of a Crown, and which would bring that person into her power, whom she believed was the only cause why you Sir did not love her. Also this Guard told me, that Ariantes received an answer as favourable as he could wish; that Thomiris would forget all that was past, and offered him what security he would desire for the safety of his and Mandana's person; and that she would solemnly engage herself never to restore her unto you Sir. And indeed this Guard further told me, that Thomiris sent two men of Quality unto Ariantes, to tell him, that if he desired her Son in Hostage, she would give him, provided he would let Mandana be in her power. But Ariantes knowing very well that Thomiris had such an interest as would make her keep promise, as to Mandana, he thought it his best course absolutely to trust her; therefore the next morning he went by Land unto Colchides, and from thence to Thomiris.  
At the same time he sent unto one, who as I think was called Octomasades, to tell him, that now he had no further design of making himself King: He sent also unto Issedon, to all them that had stirred in his behalf, to tell them the same. I heard all this I tell you from the mouth of Ariantes and Andramites, as they talked together, not thinking that I heard them, for Love had so blinded them both, that they hardly knew who was present. After this Sir, I believed this Guard could tell me no more, and I thought my best course would be to gain this fellow, and to send him back, purposely to hear more news of Mandana. And indeed, I inspired him with so much horror against the perfidiousness of all them that had betrayed you, that I am confident he will prove a faithful Spy; yet I sent him not away, until I had asked him how Ariantes behaved himself towards the Princess, and he told me, that he was so full of reverence and respect, that she had no reason to complain of any thing but his carrying her away; yet he assured me, that she was extremely troubled, and that if she had not the comfort of Martesia's company, he knew not what she would do, for Doralisa was so full of sorrow and anger against Andramites, that she was not in any capacity of a Comforter. But Sir, not to trust too much unto this fellow, I hoist Sail as soon as I had set him on Land, lest he should betray me, and cause me to be stayed, and so hinder me from coming to advertise you: Yet since I was very desirous to know certainly whether the Prince Ariantes departed the next morning according to this fellows relation: I put a good way into the Sea, and sent one in a Cockboat to inquire the truth; being extremely sorry, that I had not men enough wherewith to hinder him from carrying Mandana with him: But since I had men too few to have any such thoughts, I conceived it a better course to come immediately and acquaint you Sir with what I heard, then to attempt things impossible; yet I could not make so much haste as I desired, because the winds were contrary: But if Gelonide, who heretofore was very kind unto you, have a mind she may let you know all the news of Mandana. But Sir, I forgot to tell you that this Guard, who vowed fidelity, did also promise me to acquaint her that I had spoken with him, upon the first opportunity that he found. And that he would assure her, you would deliver her out of the Power of Thomiris, very shortly, as well as you had done out of the King of Assirias, and the King of Pontus. Indeed Feraulas (said Cyrus) you have done me most notable service, in causing him to speak of me unto my Princess: But (said he and turned towards Mazaree and the Prince Mersiles) I do not see any thing we have to stay for; as he said so, Ortalques appeared, and Cyrus admiring his haste, received him with joy, in hopes of hearing something concerning Mandana, and indeed his hopes were not deceived: for Ortalques told him that since he went all the way by land, he came not to the Tents Royal until the day before Mandana arrived, and was there received in huge pomp: How (said Cyrus) have you been in the very same place where Mandana was? Yes Sir, replied Ortalques, and Gelonide unto whom I gave your Letter that night, would needs have me see that Princess enter. Myrsiles then, could not choose but inquire of her he adored: so that he engaged Ortalques to speak of Doralisa, and to tell him that she and Martesia were still with the Princess, But I pray (said Cyrus) what says Gelonide? you shall know Sir, replied Ortalques, when you have perused what I shall present unto you. In saying so, Ortalques gave Cyrus' a packet which was so big as filled him full of curiosity to open it in all haste: as so he did: But he was pleasingly surprised, when he saw Gelonides Letter which accompanied with two others, the one from Mandana, the other from the Princess Araminta: And first he read Mandana's, wherein he found these words.  
MANDANA unto CYRUS.  
SIR,  
IT is by the goodness and wisdom of the virtuous Gelonide, That I have so much liberty as to tell you, that if I did not remember the great Acts you have already done to deliver me, I should despair of ever being free; But since I have not lost the memory of them, I shall still hope to see you break those chains which imprison me: yet manage well your life, and do not expose me by exposing yourself too far, unto the greatest of all misfortunes. Ortalques will tell you how I have been received by the Massagettan Queen: but let me tell you, that I have abundance of comfort in finding the Princess Araminta here; for since she cannot yet meet with happiness, I am glad that we are miserable together: for truly I love her so well, that I was to blame in accusing you for the safe. This is all that one can say who hopes ere long to be delivered by you; if fortune will but be just unto your valour, as I will be unto your virtue and your affection.  
MANDANA.  
The reading of this Letter made Cyrus both glad and sad, he was joyed to find some expressions of tenderness towards him: but grieved that such an Illustrious person should be under the power of an incensed Queen, and of a Rival who had an Army more numerous than his: but after a whiles resentment both of joy and sorrow, he opened Aramintas Letter, which gave him these words.  
ARAMINTA unto CYRUS.  
SIR,  
I Perceive that fortune will still have me delivered either as the Princess Mandana, or as a slave with her, However to acknowledge my obligations to you Sir, I assure you that I will do all is possible to make her prison less tedious unto her, and will be as careful to ease her miseries, as my own: In exchange of which, I conjure you Sir, to have a care of Spitridates, in what part of the world soever he be; and oblige the Prince Tigranes to chide the unjust Phraartes for his violent resolutions. I ask your pardon Sir, for speaking of any thing but the Princess Mandana, at a time when I know she takes up your whole mind: but since I know you will measure the miseries of others by your own, I shall hope for a pardon, and the rather because I ask it in the name of the Princess Mandana, whose merits and virtues I admire, and in whose Name I hope you will not deny.  
ARAMINTA.  
What esteem soever Cyrus had of this excellent Princess who writ this Letter, doubtless he had read it in haste, as the state of his soul then stood, if she had not both begun and ended it with the Princess Mandana: But finding things which related both unto his Mistress and his friend, he read it both with leisure and satisfaction: Afterward he opened Gelonides, and found what follows.  
GELONIDE unto the Invincible CYRUS.  
SIR,  
SInce I conceive it better to trust Ortalques than this thin Paper, with what is worthy your knowledge, I will not therefore write it: Only tell you Sir, you may be assured I will serve the Princess Mandana in all things. For since it is good service unto the Queen whom I serve, to oppose whatsoever she would do against you; and since it is a good office unto you without betraying her, believe it Sir, I shall do it with all the wit I am capaple of, and with all affection possible.  
GELONIDE.  
As Cyrus ended the reading this Letter, Chrisantes and Aglatidas came to him: and this Prince knowing they writ unto Gelonide he asked Ortalquis whether she had returned any answers to them? And after he said that she had answered them, he bade him deliver the Letters unto him; for since they writ only concerning Mandana, he had more interest in her answer then they had: And it was apparent by those two Letters that she really intended to do all good offices she was able, for that Princess. However after he had read them aloud, and given them unto whom they were written, he commanded Ortalques to tell him all he knew concerning Mandana, and to speak in the presence of Mazares, Mersiles, Aglatidas, Chrisantes and Feraulas. Sir, Replied Ortalques, I do understand by Gelonide, that the Prince Ariantes after he had carreed away Mandana, did land as Cholchides: and afterwards had negotiated so well with Thomiris, that she to get Mandana into her power, promised him to forget all past passages: never to restore that Princess back, and to endeavour a marriage with her to him. As I have gotten her out of the power of the Assyrian King, and the King of Pontus, replied Cyeus hastily, so I hope to get her out of the power of Thomiris: Her Tents are not so hard to be scaled, as walls of Sinope, Babylon, Sardis and Cumes. But Ortalques, go on (said he) and tell me all I desire to know, especially how the Queen of Massagets doth treat Mandana, and whether you have seen her? Sir, replied Ortalques, to satisfy your curiosity, I must tell you, that as soon as the Treaty between Thomiris and Ariantes was ended: there appeared more joy in the face of that Queen, than ever appeared since you parted from her, and the very thought of having the Princess Mandana in her power, was a most incredibly satisfaction unto her: But to the end this Treaty might be the more solidly concluded, there was an interview, between Ariantes and Thomiris, upon the Banks of the River Araxes; that Prince having left Mandana under the Guard of Andramites whilst he went to meet the Massagettan Queen: Moreover I understand by Gelonide who was present at this Interview, that there was a Solemn reconciliation made between them: yet Ariantes carried it so cunningly, that he spoke not a word unto Thomiris of her affection unto you Sir, and she carried herself so demurely, maugre the violence of her temper, that she told him that the reason why she treated him so well, was not because he was her brother, but because he was Rival unto you Sir, yet they understood each other very well. But in conclusion, the more easily to make the Princess Mandana despair of liberty, and not to grieve Ariantes, they resolved to bring her through all the Army of Thomidis: And accordingly Sir, when Mandana was conducted by the Prince Ariantes to the Queen his Sister: Thomiris caused her Army to be drawn up into Battalia in a great plain; So that Mandana (unto whom she sent a stately Chariot, and a Compliment by one of her Officers) did pass through the midst of all these Troops, whose multitude and magnificence made that Princess extremely melancholy, as Martesia told me since. However, Ariantes and Andramites did ride on horseback after Mandanas' Chariot, which was conducted into a most Stately Tent, next unto that belonging to the Princess Araminta, for whom Phraartes after he carried her away, asked Sanctuary, and protection from the Massagettan Queen: But Sir, she was no sooner there, than they placed Guards upon her, and within an hour after, Thomiris came to visit her; for the Prince Ariantes upon the Treaty obliged her to do all imagineable honours unto her: and it is to be believed, that though she had no other reason for her visit unto this Princess, but only the satisfaction of her own Curiosity, yet that was enough.  
To give you Sir, an exact relation of all the passages at this interview, will be a difficult task: For Martesia, told them unto me in such haste, that perhaps I may forget some circumstances, though I did my best to remember all: But Sir, give me leave to tell you, that when Thomiris came in, Mandana was lamenting with Doralisa and Martesia, the cruelty of her fortune, and as soon as she knew that Thomiris was coming, she went unto the door of the Tent to meet her, and received her with as much sadness in her countenance, as civility in her language: but Sir, for all her sadness, Thomiris was amazed at the beauty of this Princess: at least those who were present observed, that as soon as she saw her, she blushed, and such admiration appeared in her eyes, that Doralisa believed she repent of her injuries unto a person of such rare beauty: Mandana also, found Thomiris so fair (though she had not the freshness of sixteen upon her cheeks) that Martesia charged me to tell you Sir, that Mandana thought herself obliged unto you, for refusing the affection of so fair a Queen as she. The truth is Sir, Thomiris seemed to be not above two and twenty, or three and twenty at the most. But to return from whence I degressed, the Massagettan Queen no sooner saw Mandana, but this Princess began to speak. I know not Madam (said she unto her in the Assyrian Tongue, knowing Thomiris could speak it) whether I ought to complain against, or commend you, for the honours you have done me; yet since fame speaks so loud in your advantage, I shall hope that for your honour and my satisfaction, you will protect me: I will believe that these Guards which you have placed about me, are more for my safety, then to keep me Captive: I am almost persuaded, that your reason Madam will satisfy Ariantes, and that he will repent of his unjust course: As he is my brother Madam, replied Thomiris, It would not be just in me to be against him absolutely, but give me leave to tell you Madam, that as soon as you have set him at liberty, I will do the like to you, and I promise, that when he is no more your slave, you shall be no longer my prisoner; and this is as much as I ought to promise you: But Madam, the chief cause of my coming hither, is to tell you that your Captivity shall not be harsh, and that you shall be waited upon with all reverence and respect, due unto your quality and merit: Though this be very civil and obliging, replied the Princess, yet I cannot choose but think it infinitely harsh; for I beseech you Madam, tell me what right had Ariantes to bring me hither, and what colour of right have you to keep me here? By the right of force and Arms Madam, replied Thomiris, which is the very same right Cyrus hath to be Conqueror of the greatest part of Asia. However Madam, let us not now examine my brother's reasons, nor let us talk either at this time of liberty or imprisonment: victory is so used to follow Cyrus, that though you should not be free until after he hath vanquished me, yet doubtless you will expect it very shortly: for truly what likelihood is there, that a Queen can resist a Prince who hath Conquered so many Kings? for I have neither walled Towns, nor fortified places, nor no Sanctuary but the valour of my own Subjects: therefore Madam. it is very improbable that a Princess whom Cyrus esteems not, can long defend herself against him: Indeed Madam, (said Mandana very prudently and interrupted her) I cannot agree unto all you say, for I know that Cyrus doth infinitely esteem you. I know better than you do Madam, what he thinks of me (replied Thomiris, and blushed for shame) But for all that, I assure you Madam, as weak as I am, and though the Massagettans have no strong Towns, yet they are not easily vanquished. For they fight only for glory; and never fear that a long war will ruin their Towns and houses, because they have them not, they will fight resolutely, and never submit till the last gasp. But Madam, added she, I beseech you let us talk no longer of victory or of war: let us leave the future to the Gods, and let us at this time think upon nothing that may displease you: and to that end Madam, I will suffer the Princess of Pontus, who is here, to see you; for she being of that Country where there is more politeness than you will find in ours, I believe she will more divert you, and will think herself very happy in the society of such a one as you.  
Mandana wondering to hear that Araminta was there, could not choose but express her wonder, and ask how she came thither. So that Thomiris who was not sorry to change the discourse, told her in few words, that the Prince Phraartes brought her thither, and desired protection for her. After which, Thomiris not being able to stay longer with a person whom she found fairer than she wished, did retire, after a civil compliment unto Mandana. She was no sooner gone, but the Princess Araminta 〈◊〉 by him who guarded her, did enter into the Chamber of this Princess. But 〈◊〉, this interview was more pleasing than that of Mandana and Thomiris; for though these two Princesses had never seen each other yet they accosted each other as if they had been ancitent friends; and the suitableness of both their fortunes together, with the high esteem they had of each other by the reports of such as spoke of their merits, did presently contract a most intimate league of love between these two admirable Ladies.  
The same also was between Hesionide and Martesia: And as for Doralisa, her destiny was so happy upon this occasion, that she became a great consolation unto these two Princesses; for though she was extremely grieved at Mandana's misery, and to see Andramites so near her, yet a kind of spiteful sorrow (if I may so phrase it) made her express a thousand pleasant passages, since she came to that place. But Sir, to conclude all I know, be pleased to understand, that the virtuous Gelonide carried the matter so handsomely, that the next morning she brought me to the speech of Martesia, who showed me a glimpse of the Princess, who commanded me to acquaint you with all I knew. So Sir, Gelonide thinking it convenient that you should presently be acquainted with the state of things, did give me a packet to present unto you, she bade me set forward the next morning, and procured me a Guide, lest I should be stopped at the passage over the River Araxes: But as I took my leave of her, she commanded me to tell you Sir, that she would do all that ever she could to infuse reason into the mind of Thomiris and Ariantes, yet adding, that she feared all would be to no purpose. After this, Ortalques was silent, and Cyrus put many questions unto him, unto which he answered according to his knowledge or ignorance, and after he had sufficiently satisfied his Master's curiosity, he retired. But as for the Prince Myrsiles, though he durst not interrupt them, yet he was extremely desirous to be satisfied of all passages concerning Doralisa; and therefore upon the first occasion, he left Cyrus, and went to talk with Ortalques at more leisure. In the mean time, since no further intelligence was to be expected, Cyrus resolved with Mazares to advance to the River Araxes, and afterwards to carry things fairly towards a Queen, whose injustice proceeded only from her too much affection to him; he sent a person of good quality to her, to demand the Princess Mandana, and the Princess Araminta, before he proceeded to the last remedy of War. In the interim, he took order for so many Boats as would make a Bridge over the River Araxes: So that calling a Council the next day, more for form than need, it was resolved upon as he propounded, and accordingly his Army began to march, and marched without any obstacle unto the River Araxes, where it encamped.  
He was no sooner there, but he understood that the Princess Onesile, Wife unto Tigranes, was come unto a little Town which was one of his Quarters, and that from thence she would come unto him, to inquire news of her Husband from his mouth. Cyrus' having a high esteem of this Princess, and knowing how sorry Tigranes was for her, and she for him, he would needs go and visit her, since he had time enough to do it without prejudice to his design; for since he could not send to Thomiris until the next day, he had that day entire to render civilities unto the Princess of Armenia: And certainly Cyrus had abundance of reason for his high esteem of her, for indeed she was a Princess of a most extraordinary merit: The very truth is, Onesile had all the excellency that could be wished for in women, either for graces of body, or qualities of soul. Onesile was big, of a tall stature, and a most excellent presence, she had brown hair, black eyes, pure complexion, delicate skin, lips red and smiling, and the whole composure of her face pleasing, though of a very particular cimitry, for one could not say that it was either absolutely oval, or absolutely round. Moreover, her nose was rightly shaped, neither too great, nor too little, but it and every part so fitly proportioned, as made her the fairest and most charming beauty in the world, for she was not only all that I have already described, but moreover, there was such a splendent lustre in her eyes, such a fineness of air, and so noble and sprightly a physiognomy, such a particular beauty in her mouth, a neck so admirably fair, and so brave a Character in all her gestures, as did infinitely please: So that though she had no other graces but those of her person, yet they were enough to beget both love and wonder, yet her mind did shine more gloriously than her eyes, for it was most penetrating, most knowing, most pleasing, most solid, and of a most vast capacity: For though her fancy was so ready and quick, that she did anticipate the thoughts of all who talked unto her, and though her manner of conceiving things might be called sometimes a divination, yet it is most certain, that as quick as her fancy and imagination was, yet it did never go before her judgement, which always gave a true judgement upon every thing: 'Tis true, she might sometimes seem unblamable for not being always so, for the truth is, there were some few men in the world which could so much take up her mind, that she could not for a long time think upon any thing but what they said unto her; but she would return so handsomely and pleasingly out of these little distractions (for which her intimate friends did chide her) that she would answer so justly unto what they thought she did not hear, as it was apparent, that that which seemed distraction and studying, was only an effect of her vast mind which could not be confined to one single object, but divided itself into so many several, as it was not possible, whilst it was so divided, but something must appear, either in the tone of the voice, or in the eyes, or in some of the actions, and I think, that her generosity may as well be accused, for often when she hath been harkening unto one friend, she hath been thinking how to serve another.  
Thus it may without flattery be said, that whatsoever the Princess of Armenia can be accused of, does conduce to render her more amiable, and more perfect, and are only pure effects of the greatness of her soul and goodness; and when she talked in good earnest unto any, her discourse was the most pleasing in the world, and able to give full satisfaction unto the most delicate and difficult questions, there being nothing so high unto which she could not give a good account, nor nothing so low, unto which she would not Nobly speak. Moreover, it may be said, that never any serious person would be so wittily merry when she had a mind, nor ever any had such a fine mixture of modesty and Gallantry together, as this Princess, nor who better understood the subtleties and intriques' of the world.  
As Onesile was eloquent in her language, so was she as excellent at her pen; few women ever writ comparably to her, yet for all this, her eloquence, her wit, and her beauty came short of her generosity, of her goodness, and of her virtue; never any had a soul more solidly generous than Onesile had, nor did ever any know how to oblige in a more noble way, for she would not only do such favours for her friends as they desired of her, but she would do such offices for them, as they never did, nor durst ask her. Moreover, whosoever was virtuous, was sure of her protection, and she was so much taken with any extraordinary merit, that she could never see any man of parts miserable without much sorrow, though they had no relation to her: Indeed, Onesile had so great and noble a heart, that though she was destined to sit upon the Throne of Armenia, yet it may truly be said, that she was below her fortune and merit; and all the world who knew her did so pity her want of health, that they did most zealously pray for it. Moreover still, Onesile was as liberal as ever any was, and the very truth is, she had all the virtues in a high degree, and she was so respective, and so tenderly loved of every one that had the honour to come unto her, as it was no wonder the merit of such a person should make a deep impression in the mind of Cyrus, and move him to all possible civility in going to her; as soon as he heard she intended to come unto him; and he went with Indatherses, and six more only.  
As soon as Onesile heard that Cyrus was coming to her, she went to meet him; but he going very fast up the stairs, she was no further than the door of her Chamber, where after the first compliments were over, and that Cyrus had saluted a Cousin of Onesiles which was with her, he presented Indatherses unto her, and in few words acquainted her with his quality and merit: After which, Onesile expressed her sorrows for the actions of her Brother-in-law Phraartes, and that she could not hear where Tigranes was, whom she heard went with Spitridates to seek his Brother, and to move him concerning the Princess Araminta: I am confident Sir (said she after many other things) that you will think my sorrows not without good cause, and that hearing Phraartes was gone to ask retreat from Thomiris, I had reason to undertake this journey, to the end if Tigranes came hither, I might prevent those two Brothers from killing each other; for Phraartes always expressing much friendship to me, I had some hopes of reducing him to reason if I could see him: I wish unto the God's Madam, replied Cyrus, that you could persuade both Phraartes and the Prince Ariantes to set those two Princesses whom they carried away at liberty, and that the reports of such a noble adventure might bring Tigranes' back to you. But Madam, not to spend time in vain wishes, give me leave to tell you, that I make no doubt but you will ere long see the Prince Tigranes here: for since it is impossible, but fame must needs tell him that the Princess Araminta is with Thomiris, and that I am at the River Araxes, it is very credible that I am not deceived in saying you will see him very shortly.  
Whilst Cyrus was thus talking with the Princess of Armenia, Indatherses and other men of quality who came with Cyrus, did talk unto the cousin of Onesile, whose name was Telagene, who was one of the most noble families in all Armenia. This Lady understood Greek, and Indatherses having got that Language very perfectly, in his quest of Anacharsis, he much delighted to talk with her; and certainly not without great reason, for she had many attractive and pleasing qualities. Telagene was of a mean stature, but well made: She had eyes great and blue, of a sweet and languishing lustre, which pleased infinitely: Her complexion was smooth; her face oval, and her hair so fine, that one may call it fair without doing her a favour. Moreover Telagene, had not only much beauty, much sweetness; but her memory was furnished with all the excellencies of Greece; And from hesiod unto Sappho, nothing of all that the Muses produced, escaped her curiosity: Her reading gave her a most excellent faculty in writing, and that so gallantly, as that might with reason be ranked amongst those which rendered her most amiable: Her discourse was sweet and complaisant: Her soul was tenderly inclined unto friendship; and all her inclinations so noble and disposed unto virtue, that it was no wonder if Indatherses took delight in talking with her, and thought the time not a quarter of an hour, when Cyrus went from the Princess of Armenia, who was resolved to stay in that place, in hopes of seeing the Prince Tigranes: For the Town where she was, being an ally both unto the King of Armenia, and the King of Medes, she was safe enough there: Also Cyrus being Master of the Field on this side Araxaes: And all the Forces of Thomiris being on the other side: she might safely enough stay there.  
In the mean time, as Cyrus returned back along the River, with those who accompanied him, he saw a good way before him, a man who went into a Boat, which was so little, as not being able to hold his Horse, he let him go, and beckoned unto another man on horseback, as if he desired him to make haste. Cyrus' observing this, the loose Horse came towards him, and seeing him to be a very handsome horse, he conceived the master to be a man of quality. Cyrus' being full of curiosity to know who he was, did gallop as fast as he could to the place where this Boat was. But when he was within fifty paces, and he in the Boat knowing Cyrus, he changed his intentions of staying for the man he beckoned unto, and rowed in all haste from the River side: And indeed the two fishers who undertook to pass him over, did row so fast from shore; that there was no staying of them. Cyrus did not know this Man, for he so turned his head from the Shore, that he could not see his face; yet he know whom he was; for the man who was coming towards him, seeing his master stayed not, he turned back and endeavoured to shun meeting with those whom he saw: But Cyrus being still fuller of curiosity, he made towards him so fast, that the man being amazed at the sight of him, had not power to fly away. But lighting hastily from his Horse, he fell on his knees before Cyrus, who at first knew him not; but presently recollecting his memory, he knew him to be one of those forty Caviliers who heretofore had conspired against him, and whom he had pardoned.  
In the mean time, this wretch seeing himself in the power of a Prince unto whom he owed his life: and whose life he would have taken away, began to speak in a trembling tone: I may be ashamed Sir, (said he unto him) to appear before you, and may seem ungrateful: But Sir, if you will be pleased to consider by what a pitiful adventure I came to serve a Master who is your enemy, I believe you will pardon me; For Sir, I was born a subject unto the Prince of C●mes, and I returned unto that Town when you besieged it: And being chosen one of the guard of the Castle, when Anaxaris made himself master of it, and drove out the King of Pontus, that unfortunate Prince commanding me to follow him in his flight, I did so, and never forsook him since. How (said Cyrus, and looked towards the River) is he who is in that Boat, the King of Pontus? yes Sir, replied he, and I am not afraid to tell you that he is the most miserable Prince upon Earth. After this, Cyrus looked both up and down the River, to see if he could ●ind a Poat to execute a design which he had in his mind; but seeing none, he turned towards the man again: Though after I have saved your life (said Cyrus unto him) I might easily punish you for bearing Arms against me, yet I will once more promise a pardon, provided you will truly tell me, what the King of Pontus hath done, since he went from the Tomb of Menesteus, and what his design is in going into the Country of Massagettes: Sir, (replied the man very glad to hear Cyrus say so) to inform you truly of all this, be pleased to know, that the unfortunate King of Pontus miserably wounded, departing in the night, and going along a Terrent, was in a hundred dangers of losing his life; but at last, day beginning to break, as weak as he was, he went so fast, that he got into a thick wood, and lighted from his Horse, then lay under a Tree, because he could not go any further. As soon as he was laid, the loss of blood had so weakened him, that he swooned; so that then I was in a most pitiful case: But hearing accidentally some Cock crow, I concluded that some house must need be near; so that going to the place where I heard the Cock, I found a Shepherd's Cottage some two hundred paces from the place where the King of Pontus lay, and finding in it a good charitable old man, I told him in what condition my Master was, but did not acquaint him with his quality. This honest officious Shepherd calling up all his family, went with me to the root of that Tree where I left the King of Pontus in a swound; and being moved with compassion he did not only carry him to his Cottage, but he dressed his wounds, telling him that it was his fortune in his youth to receive a wound, and an old Shepherd showed him an herb that grew in the wood, which would both stop blood and close up the wound. Truth is Sir, this wise Shepherd having dressed the King of Pontus, he brought him out of his swound, and was so careful over him, that he saved his life. However, falling into a Favour, he was not able to go out of this Cottage until he heard that Mandana was carried away, and that you Sir, was marched towards the Massagettans. So that making no question but the place unto which Cyrus went, was that where Mandana was, he made that way, travelling only in the night, till he heard of certainty that the Princess Mandana was with Thomiris, and then he resolved to go thither. But Sir, I assure you he had much ado to take this resolution; and though I am not worthy to be a confident of so great a Prince's sorrows, yet I did know some of his thoughts: And indeed he took my diligence about him, since he came from Cumes so kindly, and having none else to talk unto rather than not talk, he would sometimes be moan himself to me: And after I acquainted him where the Princess Mandana was, and who carried her away, I saw the perplexity of his mind. Then seeing he was put to the necessity of choosing one side, he was so perplexed, that he knew not which to choose. Sometimes his mind was to fight against that Prince who took Mandana away; but since he could not find a heart to be in your Army, he could not resolve upon that course, but chose rather to take the part of Themiris; with a resolution to serve in her Army unknown: And in case he were discovered then to tell the Prince Ariantes that he pretended not now unto Mandana, and all he aimed at, was to hinder Cyrus from enjoying her: For being persuaded, that the Princess would never consent that Ariantes should marry her, he thought that in yielding him all, he yielded him nothing: Thus he went thither, without any hopes but only of seeing Mandana before he died, and to meet with death in that war. This Sir, is the design of the Pontean King, whom I have heard a thousand and a thousand times say, that when he remembered his obligations unto you Sir, he could not choose but complain against the violence of his passion which forced him to be both unjust and ungrateful. After this, Cyrus seeing the man could tell him no more, he pardoned him: And I will give you leave (said Cyrus) to pass over the River, and to return unto your Master, and tell him from me, that it is the part but of a bad lover, to side with the Ravisher of his Mistress. Tell him further, that if he be truly generous, he will come and employ his valour for her liberty, and fight in my Army: Tell him, that I offer him all that the Princess Araminta his sister offered him in Didia: And since the Gods are not pleased that his merits should move the heart of Mandana me thinks he should rather yield her unto me, then unto the Prince Ariantes. Tell him that Mandana will hate him if he fight for her Ravisher, and will be his friend if he fight for her liberty.  
Cyrus' having spoken these words, he left this Cavalier, and as he marched on, he complained unto Indatherses, that fortune should send so violent a man amongst his enemies. When he came near his Tent and lighted from his horse, some Caviliers brought four men unto him which they had stopped as they endeavoured to get over the River. As soon as he cast his eyes upon the eldest of them, he knew him to be no ordinary man; yet his clothes were mean and careless, and his face rather ill-favoured then fair; yet for all this, there was such a sprightliness in his physiognomy, and such fine tranquillity in his looks, that Cyrus was moved thereby to that opinion; the rest of his companions were handsome, and in the prime of their age; but as for him, he seemed to be above fifty.  
Indatherses being with Cyrus, knew him to be Anacharsis; so that this worthy Nephew of such an illustrious Uncle spoke first unto Cyrus: I hope Sir (said he unto him) that these prisoners will find a favourable reception, as soon as you shall know, that the famous Anacharsis, whom I sought so all over Greece, is now in your power. Since my Soldiers (replied Cyrus' most obligingly) ought to take none but my Enemy's Prisoners, and since I do not take the wise Anacharsis to be one of that number, I declare him free, and am so far from thinking him my prisoner, that I shall think it a great honour if he will give me leave to be his friend: Sir, replied Anacharsis, you have no reason to rank me in the number of your Enemies, since I have made too public a profession of being a friend unto all such as are owners of any extraordinary merit, not to esteem myself in being yours. But Sir, I desire you as a singular favour to believe, that I do not at all give you my friendship as you are the Conqueror of Asia, but as you are the Conqueror of Vices, and a Professor of all the virtues. Did you know me Sir, replied Cyrus, and should then commend me as you do, I should think myself the most glorious of men; but since you know me only by Fame, which has long used to flatter me, I cannot take any great delight in the commendations of a man who merits them the most of any man living.  
After this, that place being unfit for any long discourse, Cyrus took Anacharsis by the hand, and carried him unto his Tent; as soon as he was there, he asked him who those were which were with him; who seemed more like Grecians then Scythians? Sir, replied Anacharsis, he who is next you is indeed a most illustrious Greek, called Chersias, a most excellently accomplished man, and one who is young as he is, is thought worthy as well as Menesiphiles and Diocles to be at that famous Banquet of the Seven Sages, where it was my happiness to meet them, and of which all the world hath so much talked. To be born a subject unto the Sage Bias, (replied Cyrus) to be the friend of the wise Anacharsis, and to have been in the society of Periander, Cleobulus, Solon, Pittacus, Thales, and Chilon, is so great an advantage, as it is easily believed that Chersias does merit that honour. I assure you Sir (replied Chersias) if all those you have named should often make such ill choice of their friends as they have done of me, they would not merit the names of wise; but to say truth, certainly they had never done it, but in advantage unto me; I am most sure, that Solon in choosing Menesiphiles, whom you see there, was not deceived in his choice, no more than the King of Corinth in loving Diocles, whom you see there next that generous Athenian: For my part, replied Diocles, I am obliged in memory of that great Prince of whom I had the honour to be loved, to say, that it was my zeal unto his glory which made him excuse all my faults: And I may also say (added Menosiphiles, that it was my love unto my Country which moved Solon to be my friend: However it be Sir, said Cyrus, I do already much esteem you all, though I have not yet had the honour of knowing you: But I beseech you, what cause did move three famous Greeks to come into Scithea, which doubtless is nothing so pleasant a Country as Greece? Sir (replied Anacharsis and smiled) these famous Grecians would persuade me, that they came hither more for love of me, than out of any curiosity of travelling, but I cannot tell whether I should merit the friendship of so many wise men if I should suffer myself to be so easily deceived: For my part (replied Diocles) the strongest motive of my making this journey was to see the Country where the man was born whom the Sages of Greece admired. As for me (added Chersias) I cared not so much for seeing the Country of Anacharsis) as for seeing Anacharsis himself, and for bettering myself by his wisdom: I must sincerely acknowledge Sir, (said Menesiphiles) that the reason of my crossing the Seas, and passing out of Europe into Asia, was not only to follow Anacharsis, but also to have the honour of being a witness to some of those great acts which Fame speaks so loud of through all the world; and to see in your person Sir, the man whom of all people in the world the famous Solon most esteems; and he charged me to tell you Sir, how joyed he was when he heard of your generous act in saving the King of Lydia from the fury of the faggot: I am extremely glad, replied Cyrus, that Solon can remember me; and I assure you I will omit no opportunity of letting you see how much I honour the virtue of that wise man. After this, Cyrus used a thousand obliging expressions unto that famous Scythian, who answered him with all imaginable civility; and though there was a kind of natural severity in his disposition, and though he was a professed Enemy unto all frivolous ceremonies which pass for the compliments of the time, yet his travels through Greece and Egypt had a little sweetened the severity of his nature, and something civilised his Philosophy: So that though he was a little austeer, yet he was also sweet and pleasing, and Cyrus did him all honour's imaginable; he would have them in one of his Tents, he caused his own Officers to wait upon them, and he treated Chersias, Diocles, and Menesiphiles so well, that they were charmed with his generosity. In the mean time, since the mind of Cyrus did run continually upon the interests of Mandana, it came into his thoughts to desire Anacharsis that he would be a Mediator betwixt Thomiris and him, for having a design to send unto that Princess before he entered into her Country, he conceived this wise Scithean to be fitter than any other to persuade her. This thought no sooner came into his head, but he imparted it unto Mazares, who approved of it.  
So that to lose no time, he went unto the Tent where Anacharsis was lodged, and took him aside to propound his desires unto him: To testify unto you Sir, said Cyrus, how much I honour your virtue, and how well I am persuaded of all that Fame speaks concerning your sufficiency and honesty, I beseech you, wise Anacharsis, to arbitrate the business betwixt me and the Queen of Massagettes, I desire you would go unto her, and move her to release the Princess Mandana, who she cannot detain without a gross violation of all Laws; for I will render so much respect unto that Princess, as I will not make any War upon her, until after she hath denied me what with all Justice I shall demand: Sir, replied Anacharsis, I know not how to be an Arbitrator of your differences; for since I can never take any unjust side, I declare unto you, that though I be a Scithean, I cannot sided with Thomiris, but am absolutely all for you; yet if you please Sir to honour me with the Quality of your Ambassador, I shall with all my heart go unto that Princess, and endeavour to infuse some reason into her soul, and prevent a war which cannot choose but prove deep in blood: For Sir (added this wise Scithean very modestly) I believe I do understand the language of Thomiris better than any about you doth; also I have Greek enough to understand your meaning. After this, Cyrus to lose no time, acquainted him with the state of things, and without telling him how Thomiris was in love with him, he instructed him in all reasons and expedients to persuade that Queen. Cyrus also spoke to him concerning the Princess Araminta, that he would endeavour her liberty; and after he had talked above two hours in private with him, it was resolved that Anacharsis should pass over the river the next morning, and accordingly this resolution was executed. Cyrus would have set Anacharsis forth in an equipage befitting his worth; but he told him, that thanks be to the Gods he had long since left off all manner of vanities; and therefore beseeched him to let him go by himself without any other company; for Chersias, Diocles, and Menesiphiles being Greeks, and the Massagettans not loving that Nation, he thought it not convenient to carry them; yet Cyrus would not suffer him to go so, but would needs have Ortalques and two servants go with him, and the reason why Cyrus made choice of Ortalques was, because he intended to write by him unto the Princess Mandana, to Araminta, and to Gelonide, unto whom he was already known: But to the end the voyage of this Sage Scithean might the better prosper, Cyrus sent Adonacris another way to persuade Ariantes not to persist in his unjust course: Anabaris also gave Ortalques many Letters for some friends he had about the Tents-Royal, whom he desired they would move Thomiris to restore Mandana. So that thus many men negotiating at once, there was some reason for hope that the voyage of Anacharsis would not be in vain. In the mean time, this wise Scithean having wafted over the River in a Boat, he was stopped by some Soldiers on the other side, who after they knew his business, conducted him to Thomiris.  
But whilst Anacharsis was going to this Queen, Cyrus was making prayers for the happy success of his voyage, and that Thomiris might be as much moved by his reasons, as he was by o●s virtue: However, Cyrus knowing that in the best hoped for expeditions, was 〈◊〉 be looked unto; so he gave all necessary Orders for making a Bridge of Boats, and he divided his time so well, that he had some to spend in visiting of these three friends unto Anacharsis, who seemed unto him to be worthy of that honour: Sometimes he would 't 〈…〉 〈◊〉 of the late Corinthean King, and of the Queen his Daughter; sometimes ag●●n he would speak of Sol 〈…〉 concerning Policrite, and of Pisistrates unto Menesiphiles; and sometimes he would desire Chersias to discourse concerning the wise Bias, unto whom he was a Subject: But he taked principal unto them all three concerning Anacharsis, for since 〈…〉 upon the 〈…〉tion of Mandana's liberty, he thought it his duty to 〈…〉st in him, the 〈…〉 any else.  
So that one morning having Indatherses, Chersias, Diocles and Menesiphiles with him: He conjured them all to tell him what they knew concerning him. Indatherses then told him, that Anacharsis was wise even in his very Cradle: That indeed he never was a child, that he knew almost all things before he was taught them; That his manners and behaviour was all innocency, and that his way of life, was ever very far from all that can be named voluptuous. That from his infancy he scoffed at grandeur, and would never admit of any difference between men, but what virtue made. This Sir, added Indatherses, was Anacharsis before he went out of the Country of the Thauroscites, judge you what he is now after so many years travel in Egypt and Greece, which are the places where all the virtues and sublimest Sciences are most practised; and after the friendship of so many excellent men.  
For my particular, said Menesiphiles, I can assure you that Solon was charmed with the virtue of Anacharsis, when he came to Athens: And believe it, their first meeting was something extraordinary: For Anacharsis believing that it was enough to be what he was, to be well received by Solon, he never sought out for any man to present him unto him, but went himself upon his first visit; So that having clothes meaner than these you see him wear, and Solon's mind being possessed with some serious thoughts, he asked him roughly what he was? I am, answered he, a poor stranger, who came to Athens only to be acquainted with you, and to get your friendship. I cannot tell, replied Solon, what advantage you may get, by being acquainted with me, but I know that it is better getting of friends in one's own Country, then in a strange one; If so, answered Anacharsis and smiled, than you that are in your own Country and your own house, must be acquainted with me, and make me your friend. This quick answer did much surprise Solon: so that looking better upon Anacharsis, he saw in his physiognomy a kind of grandeur, which made him repent of the manner of his reception; so that embracing him, he asked pardon for his incivility: And to repair his fault, he would needs have him lodge with him: But Sir, whilst he was there, he uttered a thousand excellent things, which made his capacity apparent: for Anacharsis being altogether for Monarchical government he showed a Million of inconveniencies in any other; and said boldly in a full Assembly (when he saw public affairs consulted upon by a multitude) that he thought it very strange, that wise men should propound things concerning the public good, and fools decide them, hinting at the abundance of young men who over-voted the old in all great Assemblies, and who for want of old experience, are unable to reason justly in the manage of great affairs. In short Sir, Solon found Anacharsis so admirably knowing in all things, that he consulted with him, and relied upon his judgement in things of highest concernment, and made him known unto all his friends; Truly, said Chersias, it was Solon who writ unto Bias, what Anacharsis was: And it was he also (said Diocles) who caused Periander to invite him unto that famous Feast, at which, except myself who by their favour was permitted, there was none but persons of most illustrious fame: and indeed, this Feast for the excellency of it, was called the Banquet of the seven Sages, not comprehending the rest who were there, because indeed it was prepared only for them; As Diocles said so, one came to acquaint Cyrus that the Princess of Armenia was coming, so that desiring to do her all possible honours, he went to meet her at the door of his Tent, where he received her with much civility, telling her that if she had any service to command her, she did him much wrong not to command him to come & wait upon her. Since it would not become me Sir, said she & smiled, to command him, who commands most of all Asia, I thought it more fit to come myself to tell you that I have heard news of Spitridates and Tigranes. Onesile had no sooner said so, but Cyrus being very impatient to know what they had done since their departure, and where they were, he desired her to tell him. So that this Princess acquainted him how since Tigranes embarked from Gala●ia, with the Prince Spitridates to follow Phraartes who had carried away Araminta, they wandered continually from Sea to Sea, & could hear nothing of her, until at last landing at Cholchi●es, they understood that Phraartes had carried Araminta unto the Dominions of Thomiris, and that Mandana was there also, and that he would march with his Army towards that part of the River Araxes which limits the Massagettes on that side. And Tigranes who writ all this unto me, further added, that as soon as their Equipage which was in making, was ready, they would come unto you Sir: and Tigranes told me further, that he would think himself obliged unto me, if I would come unto this place whither of myself I am come.  
Cyrus' hearing this, seemed to be much joyed that Tigranes and Spitridates would so shortly be in his Army: For truly Madam (said he unto her) I do value those two Princes as good as ten thousand men, and I do not doubt but I shall deliver Mandana, since they will fight for her: They would think themselves very happy Sir, replied she, if they can contribute any thing towards the delivery of so famous a Princess; at least I am able to answer for Tigranes, that he desires nothing more zealously, then to have the glory of serving you Sir.  
After this, Cyrus acquainted Onesile how he had sent to Thomiris; and since he knew Onesile to be of a very illustrious house, originally a Greek Republic, he presented those three Grecians unto her, with whom he was talking before she came in, and presented them as men who were esteemed by all the Grandees of Greece: So that this Princess being very civil, she received them with the sweetest grace that was possible; the fair Telagene who was with her, did no less, and they were all three so happy in this discourse, that at the very first meeting they got the esteem of this Princess, and her lovely Cozen. In the mean time, it being dinner time, Cyrus told Onesile, that he left it to her choice whom she would be pleased to have dine with her, not excepting himself. I have already told you Sir, replied she, that it becomes not me to prescribe any thing unto the Conqueror of Asia. 'Tis true Madam, said he unto her, But I answered always that you might command me any thing. Thus both Cyrus and Onesile did so vie civilities, that they could not excel each other.  
But whilst they were talking, most of the company there being withdrawed out of respect, there was none remaining but Indatherses and those three Grecians, who dined with Cyrus, Onesile, and Telagene, and two other Ladies of Quality who followed that Princess in her travels: So that the last thing which Cyrus talked on with Diocles, Menesiphiles, and Chersias, being the Banquet of the Seven Sages, as soon as they did rise from the Table, he turned towards them: Though there be not so many Sages at this dinner (said he unto them) as at that Feast in Corinth; yet I believe we had one advantage which they had not. Since these Ladies who are here, replied Diocles, were not there, nor you neither Sir, doubtless there wanted the greatest ornaments of the world: But Sir, I assure you, that Feast was more gallant than you imagine it, for it was not only an Assembly of grave Philosophers, but also a most pleasant meeting of Ladies, for the late Queen of Corinth was there, she who reigns at this day also, and the Princess Eumetis, who otherwise is called the Princess of Lindes, she was also there with the wise Cleobulus her Father. Moreover, there was an Ambassador from the King of Egypt, called Niloxenus; the intimate friends of Periander were there also; the merry Esope, who at his departure from Lydia came to Corinth, he was there; and indeed this Assembly was so mixed, that there was enough to find in it all that would satisfy any humour. The truth is, added Menesiphiles, all manner of things was discoursed upon, questions were argued upon all imaginable subjects; Policy, Morality, Oeconomy, Pleasures, Riddles, and Music were treated upon, abundance of pleasing rallary, a million of questions in matter of love were put, many an amorous history was related, the adventure of Arion was told, who also was there: Indeed Sir, this Feast deserved the Fame it hath gotten over all Greece: For my part, said Onesile, I have had the greatest desire in the world to know all the particulars of it, since a Grecian once coming to Artaxates told me something of it, but not being present, he told me only as much as filled me fuller of curiosity, but nothing to satisfy me: Since so Madam (said Cyrus) you speak it in a happy hour, for Menesiphiles, Diocles, and Chersias were all three present at it, and are able to satisfy you: Now Sirs, said he, I know not how time can be better employed, then in hearing the sayings of these Sages of the world, and of the most meritorious Princesses upon earth: For truly Madam, the Princess Cle●buline is a person composed of wonders, and the Princess of Lindes hath been described unto me so amiable, that the time will be very well spent in hearing their wits. After this, Onesile importuning Diocles, Menesiphiles and Chersias to acquaint them with all that was done and said at this famous Feasts, these three friends did in civility dispute amongst themselves, who should have the honour to relate it. But in conclusion, it being agreed that Menesiphiles should begin it, and that Chersias should end it, the first began to speak in these terms, addressing his Speech unto Onesile, according to the orders he received from Cyrus.  

The Banquet of the Seven Sages.  
BEfore I begin the description of this famous Feast which the Greeks do call Simposia, it's fit I tell you Madam, that though I have related it a hundred times in my days, yet I cannot deliver it in the same terms, though I never did vary from truth in any, when I told unto men of knowing capacities I never mentioned any thing but what passed among the Sages, and of things suitable to their understandings, but never told them of any passages in the Garden amongst the Princesses, Chersias, Esope and myself, whilst the Seven Sages were discoursing in high points of Philosophy with Anacharsis, Niloxenus, and some others. But since I am now to make this relation unto you, I think it convenient not to omit the pleasing passages of the day preceding this Feast; give me leave therefore to tell you Madam, that since nothing was then talked on in Corinth but of these famous men who were met there at one time, and of that Ambassador from Amasis; who they said was sent unto the Seven Sages of Greece, every one was filled with curiosity to know what he would ask of them from the King his Master: Great talk was also of an extraordinary foresight in one of those Sages called Chilon▪ who smelling something of the Lacedaemonian severity, being of that Country, he was nothing of Salons humour, nor of the other Sages, who suited their Philosophy according to the mode of the world; as for Chilon, he would have all the world conformable unto him: So that squaring all the actions of his life by the strait rule of reason, he was as careful as he could be to converse with none but such as he esteemed, and none else; and to prevent his being in any other company, whensoever his friends invited him to eat at their houses, he would first ask who would be there, before he would make any promise, saying, That a man who traveled at Sea might be in the same Ship with men who pleased him not, as well as a valiant Soldier might be in the same Tent with a Coward, because necessity of travelling and encamping with such as Fortune brought together, did allow it without any imprudence: But the case was otherwise in going to Feasts, and the man was out of his wits that would venture himself wilfully amongst a miscellany of all sorts of several people: So that according to his humour and custom, when Periander invited him to be at this famous Banquet, Chilon asked before he would promise to make one, who would be there? As they named unto him Thales, Solon, Pittacus, Bias, Cleobulus, and Anacharsis, he was very well contented, and was well pleased also that Esope was to be there; but when he was told there would be some Ladies also, he refused to go, and had absolutely absented himself, if they had not been named unto him; yet seeing there was to be but three: The first Melissa, Wife to Periander: The second, the Princess her Daughter; and the third, the Princess of Lindes; and that these three were the Wives and Daughters to as wise men as himself, he promised to be there. As for Diocles, Menesophiles, and myself, he did us the favour not to refuse our company: Yet since he had never spoken unto the Princess of Lindes, Esope understood that he inquired of her very inquisitively, he was full of his Rallary all that evening with the Princess of Lindes, playing upon the severity of Chilon in the wittiest and pleasant manner in the world, affirming boldly, that nothing in the world was more dangerous than being over-wise: For my part (said he and smiled) it plainly appears that I am not of Chilons' humour; at least, the Fable which I composed of the Country-Mouse, which came to sup with the City-Mouse, makes it appear: I am not so severe as this Lacedaemonian: But (said Eumetis then unto him) your Country-Mouse do so much repent the leaving of her Achorns whereon she lived, and her coming for better cheer, when she heard the door open where the City-Rat feasted herself, that I cannot tell whether Chilon or you have greater reasons for your opinions, and whether he have not more reason to be at home in quiet, then come unto such ill company as mine: However, I should be very angry with myself, if I should be the cause of his not being at the Feast to morrow; for I have heard say, that though he be severe, yet he is a most excellent man; and though he be melancholy, yet he is sensible of joy: Since now it is very late, replied Cleobuline, he cannot see you before the Feast: Yet I have heard say, replied she, that Chilon never judges upon any thing by reports, nor ever trusts any but himself Than it were requisite (replied Cleobuline) that the Princess Eumetis did write some piece of wit, which may be showed unto him, and that she compose one of those pleasant Riddles which she used so happily to invent, and send it unto him, that he may know she has as much wit as himself.  
As soon as Cleobuline said so, all the company concurred in her opinion, and moved Eumetis to compose a Riddle: So that Esope, who had always a Table-Book about him, did take one out of his pocket, and offered himself as Secretary unto that Princess, who being excellent good at Rallary, told Esope, that she would let him be her Secretary for once, provided he would let her be his another time: So that seeming to study a while, she writ in Esop's Table-book a Riddle which formerly she had made, and which none ever yet saw, but in lieu of addressing it unto Chilon, she addressed it unto Cleobuline. Then after she had written it in Esopes Table-Book, she gave it unto Esope, and he did read these words in a distinct voice.  

A Riddle unto the Princess of Corinth.  
What is it?  
Which flatters not Kings more than Beggars.  
Which serves to correct the faults of others, yet knows them not.  
Which is Dumb, and yet gives Counsel.  
Which when, in the right is not believed, but when it flatters, is always credited.  
Which one part of the world makes use of, to conquer the other.  
Which is multiplied by its own ruin?   
For my part (said Esope and shrugged his shoulders) I must confess that I better understand the language of my Crows, than the words of the Princess of Lindes, though their voices be nothing so charming as hers; and I confess to my shame, that I cannot resolve this Riddle: And I will not say for myself, as I made my Fox say, when he said, That the fruit which he could not reach was too green, and therefore would not reach them: So I will not say I will not untie this Riddle, but ingeniously confess, that I cannot, but am confident that it would puzzle all the Seven Sages of Greece: Really Esope (said the Princess of Corinth, and took the Table-Book) it is a great shame unto you not to understand this Riddle, since you could understand that which none else could without you: Since my shame is a glory unto the Princess Eumetis, said he, doubtless you will rejoice at it: I must confess it (replied She) but I should rejoice much more, if I could have the honour of finding that out which you cannot: However, replied Eumetis, I would not have you find this Riddle out, until Chilon hath tried what he can do, since I writ it only to get his good opinion of me: If you please Madam, said Esope, I will show it unto him immediately, for I know he is in Periander's Chamber. At first Eumetis was against this, but Cleobuline being of Esopes' opinion, She bade him show it unto Chilon; yet he would not, until after all the company confessed they understood it not: However, Esope went, and found Chilon in Periander's Chamber, unto whom he said he had some business of consequence to impart: He being used to the pleasant humours of Esope, and expected some diversion of wit from him, he harkened unto him, though he had then with him Solon, Thal●s, Chilon, and Pi●tacus: So that after Periander had given him leave to speak, he told Chilon, that knowing he loved not to go unto any Feast, unless he were acquainted with all the Guess, and not being ignorant how he had never spoken unto the Princess of Lindes, he had brought him one of her Riddles, to the end he might see some of her wit, and not refuse her company the next day. After which presenting the Riddle unto him, and Chilon as severe as he was, loving Rallary, at the desire of Periander he began to read it aloud; after which, he confessed that he did not understand it, and that if it proved as true as it was obscnre, it was an admirable good one: For my part, said Periander, I say as much as Chilon: And for my part added Thales, I should be less troubled in observing the course of the Sun, and regulating seasons and years, than I am in finding out this Riddle. As for Solon, he found it out as soon as ever he heard it, but being naturally civil towards all Ladies, and Gallantry, not being incompatible with his Philosophy, he would not make it known that he had found it out, purpose to glad the Princess of Lindes that her Riddle was undiscovered: So that Esope by the order of Periander returned to bring back the interpretation of this Riddle: For till then, said he, it cannot with Justice be commended, since it is not enough to be good, but it must be understood also, and be found true in every part, and that when the thing is known, one shall admire one did not understand it. So Esope returned, and told Eumetis She had puzzled all the Sages, and that none of them did understand it: Since such things as these (replied the Princess of Corinth modestly) are sometimes found out more by chance then wit, perhaps I have done that which some more able than myself could not: And truly Esope (said She) if you will cast your eyes upon that glass which you see upon the Table, I am confident you will find that it does flatter the Princess of Lindes no more than the Slave behind her, and therefore it was just to say it does not flatter Kings any more than Beggars; and that it's true, it doth correct the faults of others, yet knows them not, at least I am sure it hath done me a good office a thousand times, yet knew not what it did: It is also as true (pursued She) that this Mirror Counsels, but speaks not, since it hath told me that Carnation colours better becomes me then Green. It is also as true, that a Mirror is always believed when it flatters, and not believed when it does not. Moreover, the Princess of Lindes, that half of the world makes use of a Mirror to conquer the other, could not be enough commended; for all Beauty who would make Conquests, do it by the advice of their Mirrors, and add fresh Graces unto their Beauty; so that She could not express her thought more nobly: And if you will see how the last part of my Riddle holds true (said She and smiled, you may let my glass fall, and find twenty glasses, and twenty Eumettises for one, so that it might well be said it was multiplied by its ruin. Really, said Esope, I know not who merits most commendations, She who made this Riddle, or She who found it out: For my part, said Eumetis, the Princess Cleobuline deserves most, for the interpretation is more ingenious than the Riddle itself: However it be, said Esope, I will go presently and tell Periander, that the Princess his Daughter hath done more than he could do, and indeed so he did; but he expounded the Riddle unto the King of Corinth after his own mode, to wit Rallary; for as soon as Periander saw him: Well Esope, said he, What's that which flatters Kings no more than Beggars? It is a thing Sir, said he, which let's the Princess of Corinth, see every day when She dresseth herself, that She is the fairest Princess in the world, and which sometimes lets me see that I am the ugliest fellow upon earth. As soon as Esope had said so, Periander, Solon, Thales, Pitticus, and Chilon began to laugh, and confess that the Riddle was most ingenious: After which, Esope began to commend the interpretation which the Princess of Corinth had made upon it, and to ask Chilon whether he thought Eumetis worthy to be at the Feast with him: Doubtless She hath a most rare wit; (replied he) But Esope, I hope you can assure me, that the Charms of her soul will please as well as the Beauty of her wit: After this, Esope broke out into a hundred pleasant expressions, twitting at the severity of his Philosophy, and the excess of his prudence; and afterwards he returned to the Princesses whom he did entertain so pleasant, that it was late before they retired.  
However, the next morning Periander went unto the place where he intended to make this great Feast: For to the end, it might be more pleasing, he would have it out of the Town, at a place called the Lecheon Port, near the Temple of Venus: And indeed it was the most beautiful place in the world: First the House was a most magnificent structure, and had a huge vast Hall Arched, and fit for so great an Assembly: Then there is a most rare Garden, and a most pleasant Grove along the Sea side, with such goodly walks, that a fitter place could not be found again in the world, to entertain such a company as Periander intended, and to pass away a day in pleasure. But since he was to treat men that were wise in the most Sovereign degree, he would not use all his magnificence, left he should offend their moderation: The truth is, he banished superfluity, but had abundance, kept order, and was neat: Also he had excellent Music, and after dinner, he had a Masque of Dancing for a repast. But to do all things with splendour, he sent a Coach unto every one of his invited Chests, and he received them at the Gate of the house where he was to treat them, as if he were only a private man, declaring unto them all as they came, that he would not be a King that day; and that the last Act of Authority which he would use all that day should be to command them, to look upon him as their friend, and not at all as the King of Corinth. Had I given such a King unto my Frogs (said Esope and smiled, speaking in a low voice) they had not disobeyed him, when he displeased them. Ha Esope (replied Periander and smiled) Though you had made me King of your Frogs, yet they would have been Rebels: But you do know the nature of people so admirably well, who use to murmur both against clement and severe Princes, that you with much reason do merit to be this day a companion unto them that Greece hath most admirable.  
As Esope was ready to answer, the Queen of Corinth, the Princess her Daughter, and the Princess of Lindes came in: Presently after, Solon, Chilon, and all the rest of the company assembled, for Thales, Pittacus, Bias, Cleobulus, Anacharsis, Niloxenus, M 〈…〉 les, Chersias, a man of Corinth called Cleodemus, Ardales' that famous Musician, and myself were there before.  
I shall not now tell you Sir the first compliments which all these illustrious persons used, since by such things they cannot be distinguished from ordinary men; nor will I describe the Feast unto you, it will be sufficient I tell you that all was exquisite, the Music excellent, the Dances admirable, and the discourse ravishing: The truth is, there was such a spirit of joy which did so spread itself through all the company, and which did much banish all seriousness, yet this jollity had nothing in it which was not worthy of those whereof the company was composed; the company played upon Esope, and he played upon them after his usual rate of rallary, and Anacharsis himself was so good at it, that no Grecian was better at rallary than he: The Princesses also did much contribute to the pleasure of this mixed conversation, which changed subject according to the humour of those who spoke; and Periander would have the Princess his Daughter with her own hand give Chaplets of Flowers unto every one of the Guess, according to the custom of that place. In the mean time, since this was not an assembly of Gallants, but of Sages only, Cleobuline and Eumetis were not dressed as if they were going to a Ball, yet so handsome, that I never saw them better than that day. But Madam, as soon as they were all risen from the Table, Niloxenus the King of Egypt's Ambassador, who was sent only to consult with the Seven Sages upon certain Propositions which the King of Aethiopia made unto his Master, he changed the discourse: For after he had read that King's Letter, and Bias had given a pleasing answer unto the odd Proposition which the King of Aethiopia made unto him, and which I shall not repeat, because all the world knows it, they fell upon more serious things: They began to examine what would render a King most glorious: Solon said, If my memory fail not, that a King cannot render himself more glorious then in communicating his Authority: Cleobulus said in his turn, that he was a wise Prince who never trusted unto any: Pittacus said, that the greatest glory was for a King to make all his Subjects fear him; and Chilon said, It was most glorious to love honour above all. As for the rest of the Sages, I must confess Sir, I do not well remember what they said: But as for Esope, I do remember very well he said, that King was always most glorious, who had the valour of a Lion, the subtlety of a Fox, and to his Subjects the love of a Pelican to her young ones: And for my part (added he with an admirable action) I most use my Beasts and my Birds as well in my comparisons, as in my Fables.  
But after every one had answered something to the rallary of Esope, they fell into discourse concerning Republics: And Thales said, That to govern a Commonwealth well, men must be kept neither too poor, nor too rich: Anacharsis said, That the best way was to make virtue and vice the only distinction of the Inhabitants: Pittacus said, That Commonwealth was in best order where the virtuous commanded, and the vicious had no Authority: Cleobulus said, That Commonwealth was happiest where the people feared Infamy more than the Law: Solon said, They were best, where those who were not oppressed, protected them who were, and prosecuted the oppressors as their own Enemies: Bias said, Where the people feared the Law as a Tyrant: Chilon said, Where ambition was banished: And Periander affirmed, that there the State was happiest, where the public Interest of the Country was above all private interests: After which, they discoursed upon several other themes; and indeed, after they had talked of Monarchies and Republics, they discoursed concerning the Government of private Families, and Chilon maintained, That to be the best governed, which most resembled the state of a Monarchy, whose Authority is in one only: For my particular, said Esope, I take most delight in being like to the King of Bees, to wit, sole Master of my house: But I must confess, that when I was a Slave, I had rather have been in my Master's house, as Ants are in theirs; to wit, with equality in all things: After which, the Ambassador of Amasis falling upon the most sublime Subjects, they began to define what Time, what Light, and what Truth was, and to speak of Death, of Fortune, and of the Gods. So that the three Princesses having in modesty no mind to meddle in such discourse, they retired, and went to walk in that pleasant Grove I told you of, which was by the Sea side. Thus they left the Seven Sages with Anacharsis, Niloxenus, Cleodemus, and Diocles, to talk concerning the most sublime Sciences. In the mean time, Esope naturally loving the company of Ladies better than men's; and Chersias and I being obliged to wait upon the Princesses, and to speak truth, since we were not so wise and knowing men as those we left, we were not sorry to wait upon these amiable persons: Our company also increased, for many in Corinth being full of curiosity to see these Seven Sages of Greece together, and also to see that famous Scithean who was so highly spoke of, the Princesses, with Periander's leave, gave orders to those who kept the Gates of the Garden, after Dinner to let in ten or twelve Ladies of Quality. So that the Princesses in their going out of the Hall seeing them, these Ladies followed them into the Grove, Cleobuline assuring them, that She would let them see those illustrious men whom they so longed to know; but since they were then very busy, they must stay till they went out of the Hall. After which, going to this Grove, they came to a place, which towards the Sea side resembled a Half-Moon, having round about it seats of Grass, and these seats being at the feet of Trees, a great number might sit very convenient, since the place was shaded. These Princesses then being come to this place, they sat down, and caused all those to sit also who were of Quality befitting their presence; the rest either stood behind, or else lay upon the ground. As for Aesop, he stood behind the Princess Eumetis, leaning against a Tree, at the root of which was a seat of Grass, upon which She sat with the Princess of Corinth. As for Milissa, She was separated from them, and was talking in private with two of the new-come Ladies So that it was a pleasant sight to see the head of Aesop between the heads of those two fair Princesses: Yet certainly, as ugly as he was, he made one delight to look upon him; for maugre his ugliness, there was such a kind of subtlety in his physiognomy, and all his actions were so ingenious, and so pleasing, that I assure you he pleased as much by his person, and well by his way of speaking things, as by the things themselves. As for Chersias and I, we stood before the Princesses, with some others which they had let enter with them, and the Ladies I spoke of.  
As the beauties were in this posture, one of the Ladies began to say she was exceeding sorry that a Prince called Basilides was not then at Corinth, another grieved that a gallant named Myrinthus was absent also, wishing he had seen that which perhaps they shall never see again, it not being possible fortune should assemble so many great men together. For my part, said the Princess Eumetis, I am vexed at the Egyptian Ambassadors being here this day, for though he be a well accomplished man, yet I wish he had been absent since if he had not come in with his questions, the conversation had not been so serious; for I must confess that I am very much pleased with the reading of many things which I do not like in conversation, perhaps it is an ill grounded niceness of mind in me, but for all that, I would he had in lieu of talking of time, of light, and of truth, propounded some questions of gallantry unto the Sages: As for Solon, replied I, I assure you he would have pleased you upon such a subject, especially if he had talked of love. As for love, replied Cleobuline, I confess I should not care to hear it spoken of before such pieces of gravity; for though it be a passion as well as the rest, and though it stands in as much need of the Sages help, as any of the other passions, to regulate the minds of such as are possessed with it: yet certainly none is able to speak upon that subject handsomely, unless he were in a capacity either to love, or to be beloved. I beseech you Madam, replied Chersias, did never any tell you that no wiseman could ever be in love? For my part, (said Eumetis to the Princess of Corinth) I wish Anacharsis were in love with you, that he might not return into Scythia, but stay always in Greece: were he in love with me, and so old as he is, replied the Princess of Corinth, you would never desire he should stay here; for if he did, certainly he would not be so wise as he is: to speak rationally (said the Princess of Lindes) love is a ridiculous thing in an old man: And more in an old woman, replied Cleobuline: Doubtless itis, answered Eumetis, but yet this is the difference, since the he lover is obliged unto more ceremony than the she loved, he is put to the necessity of appearing more ridiculous. Eumetis had no sooner said so, but all the company concurred with her, and an old lover was blazed in his ridiculous colours; for my particular said one of the Ladies, methinks I see him a thing out of fashion, one that will walk as if he were young, yet do what he can, is old and walks so: he will be talking of such matters of gallantry, which none can understand; he cannot tell how, and yet he will talk of love, and can talk of nothing else. I would fain know, said Eumetis, whether there be any Lady that desires to hear such a one talk? If there be, replied Cleobuline, questionless it is to gear him: But yet (added she and turned towards Aesop) what say you unto all this? I say Madam, replied he, as my Wolf said unto the Shepherds who were eating mutton in their Cottage, (what a noise would be made, if I should do as you do.) I am confident Madam, added he, that you know how to make the application; for if I should say as much as you do, I should presently be branded with the name of a maker of biting and Satirical Fables; but because you are great Princesses, you are allowed to devour a poor man alive, with more cruelty than the Shepherds devoured the mutton. I think (said Eumetis and laughed as well as all the company) that you interest yourself in this old man's business, because you do intend to be in love yourself: Never question it Madam, replied he; but you do not consider that I have a greater advantage than others have; for since I was an ugly fellow at fifteen, and can be no worse at a hundred, I shall not be so ridiculous as another, though I were in love with a leg in my grave. Since you are persuaded (and with reason) replied Cleobuline, that the pleasingness of your wit will get you more love than your person can, certainly you have more privilege for being long in love then any other. But added Eumetis, since we talk of love, and talk unto Aesop, I must needs ask, whether he be still in love with the famous Rhodophe, whom they say is now in Egypt? No Madam, said he unto her, I am not in love, since the brother of the famous Sappho is: and I wish that all the beasts I ever made speak, may devour me, if ever I do love her again. If it be really true you do not love her, replied Cleobuline, you need not make such cruel imprications against yourself; for I am fully persuaded one cannot love one person twice, and that it is easier to love twenty one after another, then to love one, with whom he was quite broken off. This Rule, replied I, is not so general but will admit of an exception in a friend of mine, which loved one woman twice, with equal flames. But are you sure, replied Chersias, that your friend does think so himself? for perhaps he never loved but once, whom he thought he loved twice, and happily never left loving her; for sometimes anger makes such a bluster in the heart of a lover, that love lies lurking in it, though he know it not, and the truth is, he often thinks he hates, when he loves, and thinks he has forgotten her whom he always thinks upon: So that when I say it never happens that one loves one person twice, I mean that he did really cease to love her, and not leave the least spark unextinguished, which may revive again; for if it do, the fire never went out. For my part, replied Cleobuline, I do not think there is any such impossibility for one to love the same person twice, as you imagine, for though a cinder be extinguished, and has been so long, certainly it will take fire sooner than if it had never been lighted. And so I conclude, that the first Love makes a disposition for a second, and that it is more easy to love one whom he loved before, than another: For my particular Madam, replied Chersias, I know by experience it was the case of a Nephew unto the wise Bias, who was as bravely a qualified man as any in the world, and as far from erecting shattered Altars as ever any was, or from Sacrificing one heart twice unto one and the same Divinity. This is so nice a questien, replied the Princess Eumetis, that to imitate the rest of the company whom we dined withal, we must argue and examine as they do the highest and difficult points in Philosophy: If an example will make good my opinion, replied I, I will easily prove that one may twice love one and the same person: Nay, if an example will do it, replied Chersias, I shall get the better of you, and make it evident, That one cannot begin again to love a Lady, after he had once absolutely given over loving her. As Chersia said so, Mellissa rising up to walk, and becking to one whom she would have follow her; the Princess, and all the rest of the Ladies stayed still with Chersias, Esope, some others, and myself. So that the Princess of Lindes, who was pleased with this question which was worthy of her curiosity, obliged Chersias and me to relate the two examples of which we spoke, and afterwards to make good our opinions with the best reasons we could produce; adding afterwards, that the major Vote of the company should decide the controversy: With all my heart, said Cleobuline, But methinks it requisite, said Eumetis, that Aesop have a double voice: If so, said he, I shall give them on his side, who holds that one cannot love one person twice. Fie Aesop (replied Eumetis and laughed) you give your opinion too soon, since you will pronounce Judgement before the cause be pleaded: I have been so frequently familiar with some certain babbling Birds (replied he and smiled) that you need not wonder if that be my fault. But truly Madam, I am so fully persuaded of what Menesiphiles will say, and that one cannot love one person twice, that I thought it not amiss to declare at the beginning, what I knew I should say at the end, maugre all the reasons of Menesiphiles. However it be said Cleobuline, I pray lend your audience, unless you will have me think you less wise than those Birds, who carry stones in their throat to stop their garrulity. After this, the two Princesses having commanded Chersias and me to relate our examples, and afterwards our reasons, it was resolved that I should first relate the History of my friend, which I did in these following terms, addressing my Speech unto the Princess of Lindes by the command of Cleobuline, as I do address it now unto you Madam, by the command of that great Prince who is present.  

The History of PHILIDAS; and of ANAXANDRIDE.  
SInce it is not convenient at this present Madam to make any long relation, I will not mention who were the Fathers of those whose stories I am to relate, only assure you, that Philidas and Anaxandride, whose adventures I shall relate in a few words, were both born at Megares, and were extracted from the most illustrious Families of that famous Town; and fortune hath not only made them equal in their births, but also in their merits and persons, for Philidas is as handsome as Anaxandride is fair, and Anaxandride hath as fine a wit as Philidas, though his be high and admirable. Moreover, there is a marvellous Sympathy in their humours, and their age also is proportionable, for Anaxandride is at this present not above nineteen years of age, and Philidas twenty: Besides all this, be pleased to know, that they have seen each other from their cradles, their houses joined, and their Fathers were intimate friends. After all this Madam, I assure myself, that when I shall tell you how Philidas fell in love with Anaxandride as soon as he was capable of Love, and how she did not reject his affection, you will think him the happiest Lover in the world; and I can assure you, that as long as his first passion lasted, he met with Roses, and no prickles in them, but tasted all the sweets of Love without any bitters, for he was as much esteemed as he did esteem, and I think no less loved than he did love; he saw her, and talked with her when he would; their Parents saw their inclinations, and did not cross them; and if any thing kept Philidas from motioning a marriage with his Mistress unto his Parents, it was only because he would not think of Marriage as long as an Uncle whose Heir he was to be, was absent; and this Uncle being gone to travel, and not to return until a year was over, Philidas thought upon nothing but how to divert his Mistress. In the mean time, this condition of his was too happy and too tranquil, and this hope, which never had any mixture of fears, did so glut the mind of Philidas, that he hoped for the enjoyment of his Mistress without any delight, and he was so sadded with her sweetness and civilities, that he became insensible of all her favours, not but that he loved her still, and saw her often, but thinking himself sure of her affection, and that he never needed to ask that question, he therefore had nothing oftentimes to say unto her; and indeed he has told me, that he has been fain to talk of news, and of mere indifferencies when he hath been alone with her, because his Love gave him no new subject of discourse: Indeed Madam, this quiet hope, and this equality of happiness, together with the certainty of being loved, did by degrees infuse such a lue-warmness of affection into Philidas, that being to go into the Country, he was more joyed at his going to see the Country dressed in her fresh green garment, than he was sorry to part from his Mistress. However, though there was a great Sympathy of humour between Philidas and Anaxandri●e, yet there was a notable difference in their hearts upon this occasion; for as the love of Philidas lessened, that of Anaxandride increased; and to vex her more, when he came to take his leave, she perceived he spoke with too much indifferency; yet since that was not a fit time to quarrel, she showed no sign of discontent at the alteration of his mind: So that he left her without any quarrelling, and without any vexation ever since he first fell in love with her; yet since he asked leave to write unto her, and obtained it, he did write accordingly to her, but his Letter was only a bare description of the Country, and his delights in sitting under a shade, and hearing the Birds sing in a wood; yet at the end of his Letter, he wished her where he was but it was in such a faint manner, as made it evident, that he wished her there more to hear Nightingales, then to talk to her of any Love matters: Yet Anaxandride being perswadeed, that it was dangerous to quarrel with an absent Lover, as long as he had a mind to keep him, she writ unto him, as if there were no alteration in her heart: But all this her goodness working its ordinary effect in the soul of Philidas, he waited without any impatience for the day on which he was wont to hear from Alexandride, and I received it from his own mouth, That his love to her did so cool, that he received a Letter from this fair one in the morning, and never did read it till night when he went to bed. Philidas being then thus coldly indifferent, after so much hot affection as chance would have it, his father writing to him that he should go unto Salamine about some business, there he saw a great Beauty called Timoxenes, and the Father of this fair one being to go and dwell at Megares, he was very glad to contract friendship with a man of his Quality: So that in a few days Philidas had all possible freedom in his house. But Madam, as the too much sweetness of Anaxandride, and the too much happiness of Philidas, had glutted and cooled his affection, so the fantasticalness of Timoxene caused his inconstancy to her. For Madam he found in her all things contrary to the other; for certainly, never any was of a more unequal and peevish humour, nor who loved better to wrangle with her Lovers, and fall out with her friends; for it was the common talk, Timoxene said such and such a thing, Timoxene said such a one told her so, Timoxene complains against such a one, or such a one complains against her; Timoxene is fallen out with him, or 〈◊〉 with her; and the truth is, Timoxene out of her perverse inequality of humour, did so entangle things, and trouble both herself and all the world, that she banished almost every one from the place where she was, for she made every one to fall in love with her, or else sowed seeds of division between those who intended to contract most solid friendship, all this out of her unequality of humour: For some days she would tell whatsoever was told her for the greatest secret, and on others on the contrary; her best friends could not screw the least syllable out of her; and sometimes she would care so little what she said, that she would speak against her own interest. However, Timoxene was amiable and loved; but the truth is, she had more lovers than friends, yet as fantastical as she was, she won many to love her, and though she was most unequal in her humours, yet it may be said; she did what she could to anger love, but not to ruin it, for her phantasms lasted not long, and when she was in a good humour, there was not a more charming, cherishing, and sweeter person in the world. Indeed sometimes one would swear, she was ever all sweetness and pleasiug: So that in this good mood a man would give her more power over his heart, than he was able to recall again.  
Timoxene being as I have described her, she was in one of those pleasing fits, when Philidas first saw her. So that since his love to Anaxandride was extinguished by her too much sweetness, and his too much happiness; her Idea did not hinder him from thinking Timoxene very fair and infinitely witty. Moreover, he learned that very first day, how she had many Lovers; and he knew also, thrt she was one whose affection was the most difficult in the world to be gotten, and the hardest to be kept when it was gotten. But Madam, without further aggravations of this fantastical adventure, let me tell you, that Philidas being weary of being happy, or to say better, not resenting his good fortune, because he was too much accustomed unto it, he sought to make himself miserable in thinking to find felicity, for he saw Timoxene so often, that he fell in love with her, and by consequence left loving Anaxandride; So as it cannot be said he loved her still, since the greatest sign of not loving a person, is to love another. But to tell you truly, Philidas was no sooner the lover of Timoxene, but he was roused out of that amorous Lethargy, in which the sweetness of Anaxandride had lulled him, for from the very first day he began to love this fantastical person, he was as full of jealousy as love, and as full of anger as jealousy: However, that which in all reason should have lessened his passion, did increase it, and he became as fast fettered in the chains of Timoxene, as ever he was with Anaxandrides.  
But as Fame commonly carries such news, so that the fair one at Megares quickly heard that her Lover was perfidious, and that he was fallen in love at Salamine: So that since she really loved him, she was incredibly sad at the news, yet it was a very glorious, sorrow; for resolving to slight him who slighted her, she endeavoured all possible ways to quiet her own mind: But to tell you truly, the hatred which succeeded her love, did put her to as much pain as her love had done. In the mean time, since as I told you before, the Father of Timoxene intended to go and dwell at Megares; so he went thither with all his Family, and Philidas returned with him. And as it is the custom of the place, that when any strange Ladies come thither, all the Lady of the Town use to visit her. So Anaxandride went to Timoxene with her Mother, and to perform a piece of civility unto a person who had taken the heart of her Lover from her, she was so unfortunate as to find Philidas there; yet I have heard her say since, that she took more pleasure in this visit than she expected, for since she had no desire to find Timoxene fair, her imagination did so flatter her passion, that she fancied Timoxene otherwise then she was, for she thought her hair too red, though it was the palest fair in the world, she thought her colour too high, though it was well composed, her eyes she thought too sharp, though they were rather languishing, her lips pale though vermilion, and her making ill-favoured, though it was very handsome: So that ascribing doubtless as much unto her own beauty, as she detracted from her Rival, she fancied her a thousand times less fair than she was, and believed herself to be fairer than ever she did; at least, she told me, that She thought so: But the thing most observable was, her joys in being persuaded that Philidas had no excuse for his inconstancy, and that he was a loser by his change: And truly (said she one day unto me) I verily believe I should have died with spite, if I had not found Timoxene much inferior to me in every thing. Methinks (added she) that spite hath so altered my heart, that Philidas is not so handsome as he was when he loved me; and I wonder that I should be then so mad, as to think him amiable: But now Philidas, seems unto me to be another man, methinks his mind not so noble, his wit duller, his action more forced, his very accent as changed, and methinks he hath gotten such a kind of clownishness at Salamine, as it is a shame unto all Islands. The truth is, added She, I thought my old Lover so little pleasing that day, his Mistress so far from lovely, and myself so far above them both, that I went away from this visit less troubled than ever I imagined. But after all this (pursued she) though I had no desire that Philidas should still love me, yet still I was vexed strangely that he should love Timoxene. In the mean time Madam, out of a resentment of honour, Anaxandride resolved never to twit Philidas with it, but contented herself only with shunning to meet him, and to treat him very coldly in what place soever she found him: And indeed so she did for a long while. But Madam, since Timoxene had not changed her humours in changing places; she was the same at Megares, which she was wont to be at Salamine, and made there much more disorder, for being there unknown, all the men and women were sooner trapped, and the half of her life being very amiable, they kept her company as a person whom they all esteemed, and doubtless they saw her in the good vain, but were ignorant of her fault, that some days She could not conceal any thing: So that it being usual in those who would contract friendship with any new comer, to acquaint them with all the news of the Town, to the end She may not be any longer a stranger; there were some men and women who did her that office, but were ill requited as well as Philidas, for in one of those days when she could not conceal any thing She knew, She set all the the Town so together by the ears, that never the like was heard of, nor so many jars in so short a time. The worst was, since She used often to hear all things without right application, She confounded them by her repetition of them  
Thus she caused to be told unto Philidas what another did say of him, and to that other what Philidas said of him: So that quarrel upon quarrel did arise; but the strangest thing was, Timoxenes did no more care for any of those quarrels She had caused, then if She had no hand in them at all, and She knew so well how to make her own peace, that She did easily reconcile herself to all; but the worst was, She could not so easily reconcile others. Philidas being excellently accomplished, and a man of a clear spirit and wit; as amorous as he was, he saw that Timoxene had some ill qualities amongst her good ones, but being of an humour to surmount all difficulties, it may well be said, that the Prickles made him think the Roses sweeter, since the unequality of Timoxenes did for a long time augment his passion.  
But at last, this inequality produced a very vexatious effect, for now her inequality had got into the thoughts of her heart, and she was not only sometimes merry, and sometimes said, but those whom She loved to day, were not sure to be so to morrow: So that She did not look upon Philidas neither as her lover, nor her friend, but looked upon another more favourably then upon him: So that after Philidas had tried always to get again into her favour, he would see whether jealousy would work upon her: So that making a show, as if he would renew with Anaxandride, he endeavoured for an occasion of seeing her, and went unto her house with one who was a Cousin unto that fair one, who was much her friend. But Madam, the strangeness of this adventure was, that when Philidas returned to Anaxandrides house, he was extremely in love, and extremely jealous of Timoxene, and had no tenderness at all to the first: The reason why he would seem to love Anaxandride rather than any other, was, because it was most likely. Moreover, he always found her so sweet, that he thought he could quit her when he pleased, and nothing would happen of it but as formerly; yet he found it otherwise, for since Anaxandride was noble as well as sweet, She resented the inconstancy of Philidas so bitterly, that had it not been more in love to herself then him, She would have made it appear: But when he came to her again, and would have spoke in private with her, he was amazed when he found her upon other terms than he expected, for he believed that Anaxandride would have received him with all joy, at any time he pleased; yet She spoke so very sharply unto him this first visit, that he plainly saw himself absolutely lost, and that it was a harder matter for him to regain the heart of Anaxandride, than the heart of Timoxene: So that as his love was cooled by the facility of her being happy, so She began from that day to rekindle it, by the difficulty he found in being so again: The truth is Madam, though I cannot understand the reason of it, yet it is most certain, that the sharpness of Anaxandride began to work that in the heart of Philidas, which her too much sweetness had taken away: Yet he did not pass from one extreme to another in an instant, but in a very few days he left loving Timoxene, and began to love Anaxandride again with more hot flames then ever he did: Then did he remember his happy condition formerly, and thought himself the more unfortunate, and he thought himself so much too blame for being insensible of his happiness, that it made him much the more miserable.  
On the other side, Anaxandride, though She did not now love Philidas, yet in point of glory She could not choose but be glad to see him fettered in her chains again: and finding that rigour was the way to raise his passion, She showed it in so high a manner, as was enough to make love die in any heart but his, In the mean time, the worse Anaxandride treated him, the more was he in love with her, and more repent of his inconstancy: Pray Sir (said I one day unto him, seeing him melancholy) Why did you leave loving Anaxandride without any cause? And why did you renew it without reason? For truly when you quitted her, She was as lovely as ever; and when you repented, She was no more amiable than when you cast her off; and therefore I have good reason to ask you why you did leave loving her, or else why you began to love her again? I left loving her, replied he, because I was so accustomed to be happy, that I did believe I could not be more; and I began to adore her again, because I was weary of being miserable, and knew that I could not be happy without her: But Sir, replied I, She is the very same She was when you loved another, and the same She was when you forsook her: Ah Menesiphiles, (said he unto me) I would it were true that Anaxandride were the same She was when I forsook her. No no, She was then sweet, but now cruel, She did then love me, but now hates me: I must tell you Sir, (said I then unto him and laughed) this difference doth not seem to me very fit to cause love, but it had been more reasonable to have continued loving her when she was kind, and when She loved you, then to begin loving her again when She is cruel, and hates you: I must sadly confess all this (said he unto me) But alas, since I am not Master of my own heart, what would you have me do? Yet I find it some sweetness, to think that Anaxandride would not have hated me, but because I did not love her, and must hope, that as She passed from love to hatred, so She may pass from hatred to love again: Had you fallen in love with any other, replied I, and that after you had loved Anaxandride and Timoxene, you had loved a hundred, I should not have wondered so much, as that you should love Anaxandride again. I know, said I, That one may fall out with a Mistress, and renew again: I know that believing her perfidious, one may hate her, and afterwards finding her to be innocent, may begin to love a new; but I must confess, I cannot conceive, that having left Anaxanarine without any cause, it can be possible you should ever love her again: Yet truly so it is (replied he) That never any man loved any woman more than I do her, and I do now hate myself as much as I do love her. When I consider upon the happiness I have foolish 〈…〉 lost, and upon the incertainty of ever regaining it again, I think myself the most miserable Lover that ever breathed; other Lovers do only desire such favours as they never tasted, and therefore know not the sweetness of them; but the case is much more miserable with me, since I do desire a happiness which I have enjoyed, the greatness whereof I know: But Sir (said I unto him) you found such small happiness in the enjoying of it, that I know not why you should so earnestly desire the fruition again: I desire it, replied he, because now I know better the price of what I have lost, than I 〈◊〉 when I enjoyed it.  
To tell you Madam that Philidas loved Anaxandride twice, is not enough to prove th' 〈…〉 one may love one and the same person twice, unless I tell you also, that Anaxandride did love Philidas twice also. But certain it is, that this revived Lover did strive so violently to reconquer the heart he lost, that at last Anaxandride ceasing to hate him, did begin again to love him, and at this very hour do love with so much tenderness, that they are to be married within a few days. Thus Madam I have furnished you with an example, that one may love the same person twice; and certainly there is more probability, that one should begin again to love her whom formerly he found amiable, then to love a fresh Mistress. Though there be much delight to be taken in hearing you speak (said the Princess of Corinth unto me) yet I must needs interrupt you: for I do conceive it fit before you give your reasons, that Chersias relate us an example opposite to yours, to the end that arguing afterwards upon both, the question may be better cleared, and the dispute more pleasing. Since what the Princess of Corinth said was very reasonable, Eumetis and all the company approving of it, silence was imposed upon me; and Chersias relateed his promised adventure: So that after all the company had renewed their attention, Chersias began in these terms.    

The History of AGLATONICE, and of IPHICRATES.  
Madam,  
BEfore I begin the adventure which I am to relate, I conceive it not impertinent to our purpose, that I acquaint you with the manner of living in our Court, lest you not imagining the Town of Prienes to be such a one as it is, you should suspect the truth, when you see me introduce so many gallant persons in my relation: Therefore Madam, be pleased to know, that the wise Bias, who governs our state as chief head, hath made it so famous as little as it is, that it is considerable unto all our Neighbour States, and I dare boldly say, that of so many famous Greek Colonies, which passed into Asia, and there rendered themselves potent, there is not one which hath in such purity preserved the politness of its original, as ours. Moreover, the wise Bias having no children, he hath looked upon a Nephew of his as his Successor. This illustrious Nephew, whose name is Iphicrates, being a most admirably accomplished man, he hath rendered our Court full with men of excellent parts; for as the Uncle did attract many knowing men, so the Nephew by the example of his valour, hath drawn many brave men thither, and by his generosity many generous men.  
As for our Ladies, I can assure you confidently, that few Asiatic Towns have more fair ones, or more amiable; but that which makes the Court completely gallant is, Bias hath a Niece, who as rarely accomplished as Iphicrates, is yet not more than She, though She be not his Sister, for She is Daughter unto a Sister of Bias, and he a Son unto his Brother; it is at her house where all the men of Quality rendezvouz, both all the Ladies, and all the wits and gallants. Moreover Madam I can assure you, that the Court of Polycrates is not more gallant than ours, and one cannot find more diversions at Milete or Lesbos, then at Priene. Give me leave to tell you further Madam, that Iphicrates is not only rarely accomplished in respect of his valour and Spirit, but also because he is the most sincere man alive. Moreover, his person doth extremely please, for he is of a handsome stature, a good behaviour, and his greatest Enemies cannot charge him with any fault: 'Tis true, that his sincerity causes him sometimes to speak things a little drily; but for all that, he is esteemed by all the world, and loved by all those who know him except of that person, whom of all the world he most desired to be. After this Madam, it is requisite I tell you, who this fair and unjust person is of whom I speak, be pleased to know therefore Madam, that Iphicrates after many years' absence; returned unto Priene one evening when there was a Ball kept at the Princess of Lanthes house, Niece unto Bias, and as one of his age never uses to let slip such an occasion, he made himself ready in all haste to go unto this meeting, which doubtless was worthy of his curiosity; for I never saw all our Ladies more fair, than they were that night, since there was not one ill dressed; and indeed one amongst them, who was most knowing in such things confessed, that they never had a more glorious meeting then this, for it had not the pressing crowd of great feasts; nor was it one of those petty Assemblies, where the men have no choice of Ladies to dance withal. Moreover, the Hall was as light as day, and the Music was in an excellent humour.  
Iphicrates then being entered into the place where they danced with all the gladness of a man who found such diversions, the first hour of his arrival: he went to the end of the Hall, where he saw three or four of his ancient friends, talking with some Ladies who danced not at that time. So that being extremely glad to see them, a thousand civil compliments passed amongst them: The Princess of Lanthes, for her particular seemed to be much joyed at his return, and all the gallants who were dancing, made signs either with hand or head, that they longed for the end of the dance, purposely to tell him that they were glad of his return. But after the first civilities were over, Iphicrates had the liberty to view all the beauties of the Ball, and found one amongst the rest very lovely, whom he could not remember he had ever seen at any meeting before he went from Priene, and the truth was, he was in the right; for she was then so young when he went away, that she never went to any Balls: and so it chanced that he never saw her in her infancy; So that wondering to see her, he asked me who she was, I being one of those who was next her? and certainly it was no wonder that this Lady whose name was Aglatonice should raise his curiosity, she being one of the most charming beauties in the world: her composure was so noble and handsome? her Air so gallant and free, that though she was a brown beauty, yet she dimmed the lustres of all the fair beauties in Priene. Doubtless there was those who had many features, and as good as hers, and perhaps better; but there was not one who could be truly said a more perfect beauty, since none did compareably please so much as she.  
Aglatonice being as I tell you, Iphicrates asked me (as I told you before) who she was? and whether I ever saw her at her own house? I suppose (said I unto him after I had told her name) that you would never ask this last question, but because you intent to be acquainted with her; but let me tell you Iphicrates (added I) Aglatonice, is a most dangerous person to be seen. I know very well, replied he, that such a beauty as she cannot be seen without some danger: Though that be true as you mean it is, replied I, yet that is not my meaning: What do you mean, replied he? I mean, said I, that this Lady who is so infinitely lovely and born to be loved, is one of the least loving creatures that is in the whole universe, as those say who think they know her best; but for my part I am persuaded they do not very well know her, and that there are several ways to penetrate her heart which they never found out. I pray, said he unto me, do me the favour to give me the Character of this Lady: should I give it without flattery (said I and smiled) you would never fall in love with her, though I should with all give her a thousand commendations: I pray do then (said he and smiled as well as I) for I am much mistaken in myself, if I have not already some light inclination in my heart to love her: I shall then tell you (said I unto him) that though Aglatonice be a Lady of an infinite wit and spirit yet of all that come unto her, she makes no distinction between men of mean parts, and men of highest accomplishments, nor between them and such as are of no qualities at all: so that I assure you, Aglatonice as virtuous as she is, yet never put back any adorer. And yet the world cannot say she is light; but she has found out an art of having a thousand lovers, and never denies any without being further taxed then to be a lover of pleasures and gallantry in general, and cannot to this hour be accused of loving any gallant in particular: Also there is always so great a crowd of servants about her, as I cannot tell how to mention them; She will allow all to look upon her, and to sigh, nor will she forbid any to love her; so that she has always an infinite number of Rivals about her, who because one is not favoured more than another, they live lovingly together without any quarrels, and almost without any hatred, and as long as the eyes of Aglatonice does not put any difference between them, they do not envy one another. Since than I must be miserable if Aglatonice repulse me (replied Iphicrates and laughed) you make me very glad for it is some satisfaction to be sure not to be treated ill at the first: 'Tis true, replied I, but it is a sad story that after ten years' courtship, you cannot hope for any more 〈◊〉 from her, than you had the first day: and to be upon no better terms with her, than a hundred others, who have neither merit nor handsomeness in them. But is it possible (said he) that such a one as she should suffer herself to be loved by such as are altogether without merit? I protest unto you Sir, (said I unto him) I know some who love her that have no merit at all: and I do protest further, that she has lovers of all sorts, even from the Philosopher, to the fool, and from the valiant man even to the very varlet. Though only out of curiosity, replied 〈◊〉, yet I pray carry me unto her tomorrow: unless by great chance (said I unto him) this curiosity will cost you very dear; for though I have told you enough to keep you from loving her; yet I am confident, that unless you do love some other, you will love her; for she will please you above any other and more than any but herself can. So that since you are of a temper quite opposite to hers, you will be if I be not much mistaken, the most miserable man alive, if you should fall in love with her. You set her forth in such a rigorous Character; replied he, that I cannot see any such causes of fear: how Sir, said I unto him, do you not think it the most cruel thing in the world to love one who will confound you with a thousand others? and from whom you can expect no more than what you find the first day; for she will hearken unto all: but she will answer none so kindly as to render them happy; nor so sharply as to make them despair. However, said he, see her I must, and you will do me a favour if you will carry me unto her to morrow.  
This Sir, was the first discourse I had with Iphicrates concerning Aglatonice, unto whom he could not speak that night, though he would; for she had no sooner done dancing, but ten or twelve were at her feet; and they no sooner came off, but as many more took their places. But Madam, not to spend time in trivials: I carried Iphicrates the next day unto Aglatonice, who received him with that gallant and universal civility which she showed unto all her visitants: So that since she had the best grace in the world in every thing she did, and since it was impossible but she must please, he was charmed with the sight of her, and he parted from her more in love, than all they he left behind him: yet he did not then tell me as much; but I plainly perceived it, and fearing he should be too far engaged, I used all my arguments to dissuade him, though I could say no worse of Aglatonice, than what I had before: for the truth is, she is one of the most rarely accomplished women in the world: yet Madam it was in vain for me to attempt hindering him from loving Aglatonice; for I understood since, that this love had its cause from the Stars, against which all reasons were too weak. And indeed, had it not been so, Iphicrates had not loved Aglatonice so long; but would have left off, as soon as he saw the horrible injustice she did him, and that you may know it, it is requisite I acquaint you with something that proceeded it. Be pleased to know then, that Iphicrates after his first visit, went afterwards by himself to Aglatonice, and went so often, that at last he could go no where else. Yet it is not easy to understand why he should: for this Lady who never in all her life refused any Adoration, or any Adorer, did not accept of that declaration of love which Iphicrates made her; but on the contrary found so much scorn in her eyes, and such neutrality and faint indifference in her answers, as surely had choked his passion, had he not been in that condition he was. But his heart being already too far engaged, to retreat upon the first repulse, in lieu of cooling his love became more hot: and as till then, he loved her only by inclination, now he loved her with resolution, and determined to oppose all that opposed his happiness. At the first, he found some advantage in being worse treated than a thousand others, and he thought the reason was because he was more feared than any other: The truth was, he flattered himself as one that would continue loving her, and indeed as one who could not choose: yet sometimes her harshness to him, did almost drive him into despair: And one day, being alone with her, because he would needs be the last man, he began to chide her, and to complain of her rigour towards him: for truly Madam (said he unto her, after many other things) I must needs wonder how you can be so inhuman as to forbid me loving you, since you admit of so many Rivals as your beauty hath made me. If amongst this great number, you had made choice of one which was really worthy of your choice, and had banished all the rest, doubtless I should have much greeved that it was not my fate to be chosen; but yet I should have made a retreat among the multitude: and if I had complained, it should have been in secret, and it should have been more at my want of merit, then at you. But Madam, the case is otherwise, you have made choice of none, but admit of a thousand, and amongst this thousand, you make choice of me, to treat me the worst of them all: yet I do not see they are more submissive nor respective than myself. I beseech you Madam, do one of these two things; either forbid them to love you as you have done me, or let me love you as they do: yet this proposition was not accepted, though just: for Aglatonice maugre all his complaints, did suffer all to love her but him, but him she did forbid: So that his own heart not being able to hold all his sorrows, he made choice of me for the confident of his passion. At first, I would not pity him, but upbraided him for neglecting my advice: but at last, he moved me to so much compassion, as I became a sharer in his sorrows.  
Is not my story sad (said he unto me) and wonderful, that She should treat me the very worst of my Rivals, and yet I know no remedy? Had I but one Rival or two, I could find out ways to be rid of them. But now, unless I will fight above a hundred combats, and assemble so many friends as Aglatonice has Lovers, I cannot see it a possible to be rid of all my Rivals; and though I had rid myself of them all, I believe that it would not have any more ingratiated me? Since its credible it would have vexed her to the heart to lose her crowd of Adorers, and it would have troubled her more to have seen me alone with her, then when I was in the company of so many men whom I loved not: But Sir, said I unto him, since you cannot overcome your Rivals, let me advise you to overcome yourself: Ah Chersias (said he unto me) I did not follow your counsel'; but to tell you truly, I did strive, but it was in vain; and Aglatonice for all her indulgency to others, and cruelty to me, has so great a power in my heart, that I am out of all hopes to leave loving her: After this, Iphicrates passing from one thought unto another: Yet this is some comfort (added he) that Aglatonice makes no choice of any whom She suffers to be about her; for if She should do that unto one which She does unto all, I should think myself a thousand times more miserable than I am; for than I should believe She did really love him with whom She should live in a particular and obliging manner, but since She hearkens unto all, it is evident She loves the Gallantry more than the Gallant, so that I am half satisfied: If She did only love Gallantry in general, replied I, Why does She not admit of yours as well as of the rest? Fie cruel friend, said he, Why would you blast that little consolation which I had in deluding myself? Because (said I to him) I will not flatter up a disease which I desire to cure. No, no, (said he to me) never think of finding ways to make me leave loving Aglatonice, for I do profess and declare I cannot hate her, nor ever will. Then do love her, said I; But let me tell you, that to love, and not be loved, or without hopes of being so, is a thing which I will never advise you unto. This Madam was the mind of Iphicrates when his misery augmented, which I think I told you was like to drive him into extreme despair. Be pleased to know, that as Aglatonice did almost every day make a new Conquest, so there was a man of Rank, who yet was never in love; but because it was the mode to love Aglatonice, he would be in fashion, and tell her he loved her, and increase the number of such as offered incense unto her: But Madam, be pleased to know also, that this fresh Lover of Aglatonice, whose name was Chrysippus, was the very poorest parted fellow of all her Lovers, his wit had neither height, nor depth, nor conceit, nor quickness, nor pleasingness in it; it might truly be called a trifling wit, which sported itself in such pitiful poor things, and was so far from any Gallantry, that unless to very ill tastes, it was intolerable to all accomplished men. However, Chrysippus being as I have described, and Iphicrates also, yet there was a huge difference in their destinies, as there was in their deserts: For Aglatonice as full of excellencies as She was, yet was most extremely unjust, not only in denying her affection unto Iphicrates, but also in accepting of Chrysippus much more favourably than any other. Thus out of an unparallelled fantastical fate, the most rarely accomplished man of all her Lovers was only scorned, and the pitifullest poor parted fellow of them all, was really preferred before all the rest. The injustice of Aglatonice was not at first perceived, for it was such an unlikely thing that Chrysippus should ever be preferred, that none could suspect her of such extreme weakness. But as an ill-treated lover useth to observe his Mistress nearer than any other, so Iphicrates quickly saw that Chrysippus was not only permitted as others were, but preferred before them: For since Aglatonice had as gaeat an inclination to him, as She had an aversion unto Iphicrates, She expressed more Symptoms of her affection to him She really loved, then to him She did only suffer: So that the unfortunate Iphicrates was grieveed beyond all expressions.  
Then began he to do all he was able not to love her, but as there was some predominate power which forced him to love her, and likewise the like power which forced Aglatonice to hate him, he was constrained to love her whether he would or no. In the mean time, since he saw this new Slave every day more like to reign Sovereignly in the heart of Aglatonice, and that reports of it began already to fly abroad, he resolved to talk with her, and once in his life to tell her his mind plainly, so that he watched an opportunity of privacy, yet it was a long time before he could find it: For Chrysippus, who naturally made a business of every trifle, was perpetually about her; but at last Iphicrates having communicated his design unto me, I promised to rid him from the persecution of Chrysippus for tomorrow; and in order to that, I did engage him to be at a hunting meeting, which kept him, until it was very night: So that Iphicrates, who went betimes unto Aglatonice, had all the conveniency of talk with her he could wish.  
When he first entered into her Chamber, She was reading, but not daring to read on, She laid the Book upon the Table negligently, but did not shut it, as if She intended to read presently again; and She laid it down in such a manner, as Iphicrates perceived that She was displeased at his interrupting her, so that it confirmed him in his resolution of complaining against her: Yet since he would not begin his discourse with complaints, he saluted her very respectively: What book soever that is you laid by Madam, (said he unto her) I am sure my company does not please you so much as the reading of it did. Truly Sir, said she, I was not weary with reading it, for it is not with a bad book, as it is with a wearisome friend, since one may when they will lay the Book aside, but not so easily berid of troublesome company. Since I am persuaded that you have more Lovers than friends (replied I and laughed) I think Madam you were never put to the trial of that trouble: Though I do agree to what you say, replied She, yet this does not conclude but I may be troubled, since there are troublesome Lovers, as well as troublesome friends. I know Madam, replied he, how nearly I am concerned in what you say, but I know withal, that there is a Lover sometimes with you, who should not be thought troublesome, and another also who should, at least is so to all that know him, except yourself. Iphicrates had no sooner said so, but Aglatonice blushed for anger and shame, for it was impossible, maugre her aversion to Iphicrates, and inclination to Chrysippus, but she must needs know there was a vast difference between those two men. So that Iphicrates perceiving he had nettled her, he grew more bold, though he was resolved not to transgress the limits of civility and respect; so that not giving her so much time as to answer: I beseech you Madam, said he unto her, Pardon the excess of my sincerity and plainness, and as you know it is a virtue which I neither can nor will leave off, so I beseech you let me now tell you my mind fully. So none hath any right to take more liberty than they should give unto another (replied Aglatonice coldly) I suppose you will also let my tongue take the like liberty of telling my mind if the fancy take me. You may well think Madam, replied he, that a man unto whom you deny every thing, cannot think he hath any right to impose any Laws upon you: Therefore Madam, when I have uttered my mind, you may freely tell me what you please, declaring unto you before hand, that the worst you can tell me shall not surprise me.  
But not to lose such precious time, the thing I have to tell you is, that as violent as my passion is unto you, I have taught it how to suit itself unto my bad fortune, and to subsist without any hope: Yes Madam, pursued he, I can continue loving you, without any hopes of ever being loved again; and the excess of my affection is able to do that, which no other Lover but myself ever could: You know Madam, there was a time when I desired you to hearken unto me, as you did unto a hundred others, or else not to hearken unto those others more than you did unto me: But now, being grown more reasonable, and knowing it was not just to impose harsh Laws upon her from whom I was to receive them, I am contented Madam you should hearken unto all those whom before I desired you would not hearken; and I am contented also you should not hearken unto me, and to carry my moderation a little higher: I do declare unto you, that all the services which I have done you, and all those I shall do, and all those I have a desire to do; all I say will never as long as I live desire any other recompense, but only this, That you will never hearken unto Chrysippus; I conjure you unto it with all imaginable respect, and all possible affection; for truly Madam, he does not merit your ear: I leave you all the rest of my Rivals; so you will but treat him ill; and I do protest Madam, it concerns your honour as much as it doth my tranquillity, to do as I desire: You think then (replied She) that Chrysippus is much in my favour: Doubtless I do, replied he, and much better than he deserves, since he is not ill-treated, of this truth I am not confidently persuaded. You have so little to do in any thing that concerns me, answered She, that I advise you to save your labour of prescribing Laws to me, for I conceive myself to have right to hearken unto whom I please, and to impose silence upon whom I please, without any thing to any one, I am satisfied myself, and I care not a straw whether you be or no. But Madam, said he then unto her, is it possible you should not be sensible of your injustice, in harkening unto Chrysippus more than unto me? What does it concern you, replied She, whether I harken unto him, or any else, since I am fully resolved never to hearken unto you? And to speak truly, the difference between those you would have me hearken unto, and those you you would have me not hearken unto, is only in this, I can hear them without loving them, and I am so good as to save you the labour of telling me a hundred things to no purpose: Alas Madam, cried he out, all this might well have been said unto one who did not love you, but to me, who adores you with infinite devotion, and who can think of nothing but you, it is impossible you should deceive me; for though you should dissemble your thoughts, yet I could discover the happiness of Chrysippus in all your actions; and to tell you truly Madam without flattery, he has not comparably so much wit as you have; therefore I beseech you for your own honour's sake, make not choice of him, for I profess I cannot endure you should endure him: Though I did not love Chrysippus more than any other, replied She, yet I assure you, that you have done him a very good office, in telling me that you hate him, for though it be only to spite you, I will treat him more civilly than ever I did; for the truth is Iphicrates, I do intend to be free, and you shall have nothing to do with the carriage of myself: I have as much right to make choice of my acquaintance, as I have of the cholors I am to wear; and it concerns you as little whether I see Chrysippus, or see him not, as it doth whether I wear Carnation or Green. Since Carnation doth better become you Madam, then green (replied he & smiled) the choice of what cholors you wear is not so indifferent to me as you imagine: for since I do interest myself in the glory of your beauty as well as of your wit, I should be gladder to see you wear what doth become you, then what not. So Madam it does concern me whether you see Chrysippus, or see him not, since though I had no interest directly of my own, yet since I am extremely concerned in your honour, I should be sorry you should blemish it in suffering such a Lover. I pray Iphicrates, said She unto him, put not my patience to the utmost test, for I am so fully resolved that all your sayings cannot persuade me; and the truth is, if it be your destiny never to be loved, you cannot alter your fate; and if the fate of Chrysippus be not to be hated, he shall not, say you what you can; therefore set your mind at rest concerning that matter, and to do you all the justice I am able, I will ingeniously confess, that I know there are some thoughts of you in my heart, which are not altogether just, but since I am not just in it unto myself as well as you, you have no cause to complain: How Madam, said he unto her, would you not have me complain of your preferring Chrisipus before me? Alas Madam, that is not in my power, and not to lie unto you, my mind is so incensed at it, that I should rejoice with all my heart if you should love any one of all my Rivals, and not him. Since it will do you no good to speak seriously (replied She with half a smile) I shall confess more than you would have me; for I do assure you, there is not one of all those whom you call my Rivals, which I do not love a thousand times better than I do you, no, not excepting Chrysippus: Had you excepted him, replied he, I should have lamented my misfortune in secret, but since you do not, my complaints shall cry aloud, so loud, that perhaps you will be forced to confess, that you did me wrong in driving me to despair.  
As Aglatonice was going to answer, one of her dearest friends entered, who did her the greatest courtesy that could be to break off this conference, and She no sooner saw her, but She went to meet her with extraordinary civility. Iphicrates being then in no humour to talk of things indifferent, retired, and with so many marks of vexation in his face, that the Lady who entered, whose name was Parthenopea, perceived it, and asked Aglatonice the reason of his going out: For heaven's sake (answered She) press me not to tell you why I jarred with Iphicrates, for I cannot think upon it without anger: I do not use to screw out the secrets of my friends (replied Parthenopea) But to testify that I am more really yours then any else, and consequently may challenge a more particular privilege then any other of your friends, I must give you some advice which perchance will displease, and tell you, that there are some reports fly abroad which are disadvantageous to you, yet it is a thing only whispered, and not spoken as an absolute affirmative: But for all that, I would it were not spoke of at all, and I did even this day affirm confidently unto those who told it unto me, that they were mistaken, and that what they told me was absolutely false, yet I must confess I am a little afraid it was too true: Since I have not the art of divination (replied Aglatonice and changed colour) I know not what you mean, nor do well know whether I should desire to know it: But since I am armed against any thing the world can say, I beseech you tell me what it says of me? Since you give me leave (replied Parthen pea) I shall tell you, that such reports go as you ought to disavow, for it's said, That out of the great number of Lovers which your beauty hath made, you have made choice of two to be the objects of two different passions, That you hate Iphicrates who is the best accomplished man of all your Lovers, and that you love Chrysippus who is the worst. Judge Aglatonice whether I have not reason to say, that you ought to disavow this for truth: Doubtless, replied She, I shall not acknowledge that I love Chrysippus, but I shall easily confess, that I do not love Iphicrates. Since you are so unjust (replied Parthenopea, and looked earnestly upon her) as not to love the best accomplished of all your Lovers, I shall extremely fear that you do Love him that is the least worthy: For truly, whosoever does injustice unto true merit, may as well be favourable unto him that hath more: You speak so home, replied Aglatonice, that though you were the intimate friend of Iphicrates, you could not say more in his behalf: I am no intimate friend unto Iphicrates, (replied Parthenopea) but I am unto you, and under that notion, I conjure you to open your heart unto me, that I may know whether I should justify or accuse you; but since we may chance be interrupted here, if you please we will go and walk in some solitary Garden.  
So that Aglatonice taking her at her word, they went both in Parthenopea's Coach to walk in a Garden which is by the Sea side: But though Aglatonice was naturally of a merry humour, yet now She was very reserved, and walked the length of that long walk in the Garden without speaking one word, and when she came to the end of it, they sat down upon seats of grass; after which, Parthenopea speaking first. Had we come hither only to look upon the Sea (said She unto her) and to hear the pleasant murmur it makes against the Rocks, you are rightly fitted; for you look and hear so attentively that I believe you think upon nothing else: I assure you (replied Aglatonice) I think, it better to hearken unto the noise of the Sea, then unto you. I think not so (replied Parthenopea) for I had much rather you would hear me then the Sea; therefore I pray tell me truly what are your thoughts, both of Iphicrates and of Chrysippus. And to begin with the first of these, tell me your reason if you can, why you hate him, or at least why you do not love him? Truly, answered Aglatonice, I cannot tell myself, for I am forced to confess, that he hath a thousand good qualities, and no bad ones; but for all that, as there is something in it which makes me that I cannot love him, so also there is something, though I know not what, which makes me hate him: Though I should consent to what you say (answered Parthenopea) yet I cannot consent that there is any reason for your something, and I know not what you mention unto which you ascribe such power to regulate your hatred, or your love: For my part, if reason told me that Iphicrates had a thousand good qualities, and Chrysippus a thousand bad ones, I should sooner believe it, that all your somethings and your I know not what's, which are of such subtle natures, that done knows where to find them, or how to define them. You speak so pleasantly of these, I know not what's, replied Aglatonice, that it is to be believed none was ever troubled with them for you, since you know not the power of them.  
To show you that I am not ignorant (replied Parthenopea) I acknowledge that there is an I know not what kind of air in your person, and I know not what kind of excellency in your Spiris which doth pleafe and charm me; but for all that, I know very well that you are in the wrong, and if I were in the place of Iphicrates, I am sure, that this I know not what you speak of, would make me leave loving you. But since he cannot hate me, replied she, Can he think much that I cannot force my affection to him? There is as much reason for the one, as for the other, and as one may love by reason, so one may hate by prudence. For my part (replied Parthenopea) I am persuaded one may and aught, but when reason is not strong enough to rule all the thoughts of your heart, yet however it ought to be powerful enough to regulate all your actions: And so, since all the world condemns your rigour unto Iphicrates, doubtless you ought to force, and change your way of behaviour towards him. Then, replied She, I must change my heart and my mind, or else change Iphicrates, otherwise I assure you I shall behave myself towards him as heretofore I have done. As for Iphicrates, replied Parthenopea, what would you have changed in him? Which of his qualities would you have him leave? I assure you, replied Aglatonice, I should be much puzzled to tell you; for when I do well examine Iphicrates, and find him handsome, that he is a man of courage and wit, that he speaks elegantly, that he is sincere and generous: I find also, that every one of these qualities in particular doth please me; but I do find also, that being put all together, they do not please me; and that though Iphicrates be an excellently accomplished man, yet is not so as he ought to be to make me love him. But (replied Parthenopea) as you have ingeviouslie told me what you think of Iphicrates, so tell me I beseech you what you think of Chrysippus? But by all means tell me sincerely. Since perhaps you would think more than is true, if I should make a mystery of it (replied Aglatonice) I will confess unto you, That as I do not well know what it is which causeth my aversion unto Iphicrates, so I know much less the cause of my inclination not to hate Chrysippus. And to show you that I am not blind (added She and blushed) I know very well, that when I examine all that is good in Chrysippus, I cannot find one single excellent quality, but find that there is many things in him which I wish were not: But for all that, when I look upon him without examination, I must confess that he doth not displease me so much as many others, who are much more esteemed in the world than he is I do profess Aglatonice (replied Parthenopea) this is intolerable; for if you were not altogether prejudicateed, and if you did not know the good that is in Iphicrates, and the ill that is in Chrysippus, I should then pity you in lieu of accusing you: But to see that you should slight that, which by your own confession you know to be worthy of esteem, and to see you love that which you know is not amiable, this is a thing so strange, that I do hate you should be capable of it. Yet endure it you must, replied She, for I do protest I can do no otherwise. Then you do the greatest piece of injustice that ever was done (replied She) Since I do what pleaseeth myself, replied Aglatonice, I will never trouble myself any further. But then, answered Parthenopea, I must not any more deny that which I did so earnest deny before, and you must dictate unto me how you would have me answer those who accuse you for hating of Iphic ate, and loving Chrysippus; As for Chrysippus, replied Aglatonice sharply, I will not acknowledge that I love him, for you know I do not use to avow any such things; all I would have you do for me is, to keep me from being blamed for my aversion u to Iphicrates. To avoid that blame, replied Parthenopea, you must treat Chrysippus less favourable than you do, and must not hearken any more unto that crowd of Lovers which press about you, for then the world will say you have changed your humour, and hath banished all Gallants in general, because you affect not Gallantry. But that you should suffer a hundred to love you, and out of this hundred you should choose the least deserving man, and dot endure Iphicrates the most meritorious, this is the most unreasonable thing that ever any did. However it be, answered Aglatonice, I shall not follow your counsel, for I do love the world, and hate solitude; and since those who throng about me do only make a noise, it is a diversion to me, and to tell you truly, I delight not in silence unless in a Forest; and yet I had rather hear the croaking of Crows, as harsh as the noise is, the 〈◊〉 hear nothing at all, and therefore I will continue seeing those I use to do, and I assure you I will not absolutely thwart myself; and I am fully persuaded, that ever since there were any men, there hath been continually some who have loved more out of fancy then reason, and therefore though I did love Chrysippus more than I do, yet I were not so unblamable as you make me. Also since I will never do any thing for Chrysippus against what I owe unto myself, surely it were unjust I should go and trouble the tranquillity of my life only for the satisfaction of Iphicrates; and therefore my dear Parthenopea, let not this piece of injustice wherewith you upbraid me, make me lose your esteem or friendship. As for my friendship, replied She, I shall leave it with you; but as for my esteem, I must confess you have a less share in it, than you had when I came to you: for truly when I I consider, that you should slight the most deserving of your Lovers, and prefer the very worst, I shall think you capable of being unjust in matters of friendship, as well as in matters of Gallantry, and to prefer the worst woman in all the Court before me, since there can be no greater a difference between her & me, then between Iphicrates & Chrysippus. That which doth most comfort me in your anger is, replied Aglatonice & smiled, though out of spite, because I perceive you do not think I love Chrysippus very well, for if you did think so, you would not speak so scornfully of me. On the contrary, replied Parthenopea, I speak as I do, because I think you do love him, for if I did not think so, I should not speak at all. But I must needs confess, that seeing you so amiable as you are, I cannot endure you should love below yourself, and scorn a Lover who indeed is worthy of you; and therefore, that I may no more upbraid you with these two things, I beseech you strive with yourself either to leave scorning Iphicrates, or to leave loving Chrysippus. Truly Parthenopea, said She and blushed, I should be very much puzzled should I offer it, to make choice of one of thee two, for they seem unto me both equally difficult, and since I cannot endure any difficulties, I beseech you pardon, if I do not attempt either.  
This Madam was the conference between Aglatonice and Parthenopea, which yet did not end thus. For be pleased to know that the Garden wherein they were having three doors, Iphicrates to entertain his own melancholy thoughts did enter in at one, where Parthenopea's Coach was not; and not suspecting Aglatonice to be there, he began to muse upon the oddness of his fate, and so went on in his study, until he came to the place where Aglatonice and Parthenopea did sit. But to render this accident more extraordinary, Chrysippus returning from hunting sooner than I wished, I made the motion when we came to the Gate 〈◊〉 this Garden, to light from our horses, and take a turn in it: For said I, hunting habits are not fit for the visit of Ladies. So that Chrysippus not dreaming of my design (which was to keep him from interrupting my friend) and being unwilling to displease a man who had diverted him all that day, he lighted from his horse, and went first into the Garden. We had not gone thirty paces, but we saw Aglatonice, Parthenopea, & Iphicrates altogether, and yet they saw not us. I seeing this, though I could not do my friend a greater pleasure, then to stave off his Rival all the rest of the day: So as I persuaded Chrysippus, that since these Ladies saw us not, our best way was to retreat, since it was not handsome to show ourselves in such rude habits. But Chrysippus being in love, and of a hasty Spirit to execute what ere he had a fancy to, in lieu of answering me, he went strait to Aglatonice, caring no more for me, then if I had been none of his company. But Madam, in his address to her, he used such trivial expressions, which had neither seriousness, or Gallantry, or delight in them, that Parthenopea looking slily upon Aglatonice, She made her blush: But on the contrary, Iphicrates spoke so exactly, and played so handsomely upon his Rival, that Aglatonice in her aversion to him was no less vexed, that Iphicrates did speak well, than She was ashamed Chrysippus spoke ill: So that not to be forced to commend Iphicrates in secret, nor blame Chrysippus, She talked on continually.  
Parthenopea having a subtle wit, and perceiving that Aglatonice talked only to make others silent, did whisper her in the ear and chide her: All will not do (said She unto her) for though you hinder Chrysippus from talking of trifles, and Iphicrates from speaking excellently, yet you cannot hinder, but that there will be still a vast difference between them; for indeed you need only to observe, how they harken to you, and how they understand you, to make the distinction. I profess Parthenopea (said She as loud as She could) you are this day one of my cruel persecutors: Have I not good reason? (replied Parthenopea) For my part (said Iphicrates to contradict Aglatonice, though he knew not of whom they spoke) I am persuaded, that Parthenopea is in the right: For my part (said Chrysippus to contradict Iphicrates) I think Aglatonice is in the right. I assure you, (replied Parthenopea and smiled) you do her the greatest wrong in the world to think so, and there were never any thoughts more unjust than hers. Then I am very happy in taking your part, replied Iphicrates, for since I cannot be of Aglatonices. I must be on reason's side. Though Parthenopea's side be the most just that can be, replied Aglatonice, yet you are very unjust, because you take her part, and know not why. After this, Chrysippus would have said something, as if he would have given the most convincing reasons in the world to prove, that he was more just than Iphicrates, but all his arguments were as light as air, and Parthenopea could not forbear laughing; And Aglatonice not being able to stay any longer said, That She feared it would rain, and so retired. But to the grief of Iphicrates, this inhuman person, notwithstanding the great difference which She saw between him and Chrysippus, She turned very obliginglie towards the last of these, and giving him her hand: Since you took my part; said she unto him, it is but just I carry you to the garden door, and let Parthenopea do that office if she please for her Champion Iphicrates. I assure you, replied Parthenopea, and laughed, since Iphicrates was with you before Chrysippus came in, he shall not lose the pleasure he would have had, if Chrysippus had not come; therefore he shall lead you as well as Chrysippus, and for me. I hope Chersias will do me the favour to conduct me; and indeed Madam so it was, Iphicrates and Chrysippus both of them did lead Aglatonice, and I presented my hand unto Parthenopea, who as long as we were in the walk which led us to the Gate where her Coach was, She did very handsomely twit Chrysippus with his follies, and applaud Iphicrates, but at last we parted.  
Parthenopea carried Aglatonice to her house, Chrysippus went home, and I went with Iphicrates, who as soon as we were in his Chamber, related unto me all his discourse with Aglatonice. Well, said I unto him, after I had heard him out, What do you now resolve upon? To be, replied he, the most miserable man alive. For my part, said I unto him, Methinks you should take a more generous course, and it is much better to cease loving Aglatonice, then thus eternally to serve her. I do confess it, said he, but I must do as I can. It is so natural, replied I, not to love those who love not us, and to hate those who hate us, that I wonder you should still love Aglatonice, who you know can never love you: Oh cruel friend (said he then unto me) be contented to tell me that She does not love me, and do not say she never will. Since I know no better way to extinguish Love then to extinguish hope, replied I, I should be sorry to give you any false grounds for it, but would gladly cure you at once of a disease, which none 〈◊〉 administer any remedy unto, but only yourself: All you say, replied he, is full of reason? But for all that, there is such a strong inclination in my heart towards Aglatonice, that I am persuaded I should love her, though in the arms of my Rival, and must love her, though she drive me to the Abyss of despair: Indeed I do not love that Aglatenice should have such an unmeasurable love unto all that can be called pleasures and diversions, nor do I affect she should have such a crowd always about her, and less, that she should receive incense for all that offer it; I am also vexed to the soul, that she should never refuse any heart but mine, especially that she should treat Chrysippus with a thousand favours above others, but for all this I love her; and if I be not much mistaken, shall love her as long as I live. But I am so baffled in my adventure this day, that I am resolved to try all remedies which are used to advise such as are in love: And since I have heard say, that absence is a most excellent one, I will get me further off Aglatonice, and will depart without bidding her adieu.  
Iphicrates had no sooner said so, but to encourage him in his design, I used all my arguments to persuade him to leave Priene for a time, and accordingly, within three days after, he did depart, and departed without taking his leave of Aglatonice. Yet I am sure that he repented a hundred times of his resolution; but for all that, he did put it into execution in spite of his love, and went to pass away his exile in Samos, to the end that being in a Court of high Gallantry, he might the better cure himself of his passion. Moreover, during his absence, I did write unto him all that I thought expedient to chase Love out of his heart, for Aglatonice entertained no fresh Lover, but I sent him word of it, nor she conferred no new favour upon Chrysippus, but he had it in a Letter from me: She spoke also many bitter invictives against him, which I did let him know; and indeed I omitted nothing which might conduce to his cure. For all this Madam, my remedies were in vain, and absence, as powerful as it is, could not change the heart of Iphicrates. So that finding himself as deep in love as ever, and since absence did but make him more miserable at Samos than he was at Priene, he writ me a Letter, which I will relate, because it is not long.  
IPHICRATES unto CHERSIAS.  
TRuth is, my dear Chersias, I kn●w to my ●●ame, that I am the bas st●man alive, since I do plainly see, I am not able to leave loving Aglatonice; and since so, I must content myself with the misery of loving her without hopes of being loved, and not be so miserable, as to love her and be absent too; therefore within this three days I shall embark, and come to seek some comfort in doing some ill office unto Chrysippus, and in acquainting you with the miseries of your friend.  
IPHICRATES.  
I must confess Madam, that as well as Floved Iphicrates, I received his Letter without any joy, and heard of his return with much sorrow; for I having contracted an intimacy with Parthenopea, and she being extremely vexed at the injustice of Aglatonice, I understood by her that Chrysippus was daily more and more happy, not that there was any thing in him to stave off other Lovers from his Mistress, but it was because he was incomparably better in her fancy and opinion than any other, though she had no reason in the earth for it. So that when Iphicrates returned unto Priene, he found things in a worse condition than when he left it: And certainly he found it so, for when he went upon his first visit unto Aglatonice, she received him with a strange coldness, and returned such faint answers to all he said, and turned matters so to other subjects, that Iphicrates could not understand her. But he having an excellent wit, he presently perceived the malice of this unjust woman, and having no mind to be baffled into silence before so many Rivals, as soon as he saw his opportunity he began to speak▪ and talked as fast upon things which passed at Samos whilst he was in the Court of Policrite, as Aglatonice talked of passages in Priene, during his absence; but the difference was, he told all his stories in a pleasant merry manner, for being desirous to let her see he understood her design, he talked for an hour together the most pleasantly that is imaginable, but all was of things so far out of the knowledge of Aglatonice, that she had no greater share in his discourse, than he had in hers before; and the better to facilitate his design, there was one at that time with Aglatonice, who had been in Samos: And since there happened a most strange accident concerning a Ring which Policrite let fall into the Sea, at a Feast with Ladies upon the water, and which was found again a few days after, he addressed his discourse continually unto this man, and intermixing in his discourse the names of Alcidamia, Meneclides, and Acasta, who were Ladies of that Court, he talked of stately Edifices, and composed things and his talk into such an ingenious miscellany, that Aglatonice could not catch an opportunity of handsomely interrupting him, as he had interrupted her. But at last, she being put beyond her patience, and not being able to endure that Iphicrates should return malice for malice, she cut him off short: I have often heard say (said she unto him) that the first visits of a man returned from travel are very dangerous, but I never tried it till now: For (added she in a twitting rallary) here is Iphicrates, who hath been no further than Samos, yet he is as greedy to tell all he has seen, as if he had been in Persia, Egypt, Babylon, Ecbatan, and Scithea, and he talks, as if he had seen such strange things as never were talked of before. Being persuaded Madam that you know most exactly all. Rules of Civility, replied he half smiling, and never use to fail in the least circumstance, I did believe, that since you thought good to talk a whole hour of things which I understood not, so you will not take it ill, if I talked of things which you did not understand; and the rather, because those who return from travel have a peculiar privilege for being heard: For my part, replied Chrysippus, I know not why they should have that privilege, for I do not care for knowing things which happen not in the place where I live: Doubtless Sir (replied Iphicrates) it is an argument of great moderation of mind, to confine one's curiosity to the place where he dwells, and it is the only way to get good information: Though it seem you are not of opinion with Chrysippus, answered Aglatonice, yet I must tell you, that I fear nothing in the world more, then to meet with these makers of journeys, and tellers of strange prodigies, who will make it a whole days work in telling you, that in such a place is a River which empties itself into a Gulf, and rises again a hundred furlongs off; and in another place he found Mountains higher than the Clouds; that in Aegppt the High-Priests Surplesses are with Fringe and Tassels upon it, that the King of Medes Throne is all of gold, that in Phrygia the Gordian knot is the strangest thing that ever was seen, and a hundred such: But I pray, said she in the prettiest rapture of wit that ever was seen, What have I to do with this River, that Mountain, the Highpriest, the Throne of Gold, and that Knot which none can untie? Is it not better to tell of things within the compass of our knowledge, and of such things as concerns us, then of such things of which we have no need? Yet there are a sort of men who are extremely ignorant in any thing that concerns them, and knowing enough in things which concerns them not: For my particular, pursued she, I know a man who can number up all the Monsters about the river Nilus; and knows, as he says, how the Phoenix is produced, and the Halcions, who for all that does not know half the creatures of his own Country.  
Though the mind of Iphicrates was nettled at the discourse of Aglatonice, yet he could not choose but think it pleasant: Yet I being present at the conference, and was desirous to turn all into rallary, I began to speak, and told Aglatonice, that if ever I traveled, I would be sure of never seeing her, until I was weary of relating unto others all that I had seen abroad: Truly, said she, you would do me a pleasure in it: Yet truly, said I unto her; what you say is not so full of reason as you think it; for I am persuaded, that to confine one's knowledge only unto the things of one's own Country, is the way to limit our knowledge into too narrow a compass, and there is much pleasure to be taken in being acquainted with things that are excellent in all other Countries: I confess it, replied she, and I believe that those who travel have very much satisfaction; but yet I would not have them at their return, tyre those they meet withal with continual relations of it, but tarry till fit opportunities to talk of what they have seen, does naturally offer themselves, and and not to catch at all opportunities of talking thereupon. For my part, said Chrysippus, I wonder how any one can find any satisfaction in being in a strange Country where they do not understand the language, to be put to the inconveniency of changing their lodgings every night, and often put to many a hard shift: Since you did never travel Sir (replied Iphicrates coldly) doubtless you are ignorant of the pains and the pleasures of those who have; yet you may think yourself happy that can sit at ease with Aglatonice, and hear what others have learned with so much weariness and fears: For my part (said Aglatonice, purposely to hinder Chrysippus from speaking impertinently) I am not at all sorry to know how they live in other Courts: But to tell you truly, it is an argument of great defect in judgement, to be always relating what one hath seen: Since I am just Madam, replied Iphicrates, I do concur with you; for it is very true, one ought to choose then persons unto whom he speaks of such things, and never to be long and tedious in his relations, unless he be engaged by the particular curiosity of those unto whom he speaks, for in such a case one may describe a whole Country without any absurdity: But my meaning is Madam, that the most pleasing study one can follow, is travels; and the fair 〈…〉 diversion in the world is, to be acquainted (especially from a man of ingenuity) with what is rare, and worthy of observation in all places he hath been, provided it be told without affectation, and without insisting upon such things, as are neither diverting nor necessary; for I must confess, when men will trouble themselves and the company with telling a thousand impertinent circumstances, which relate nothing to the purpose, but are tedious, it were to be wished, that such had never stirred from home; for such, if they had known less, they had spoken less.  
Moreover, there are another sort of men, who use to observe nothing but what they should forget, and never mind such things as are most worthy of consideration. But however, though I desire to know nothing but what is worthy to be known, yet I had rather one should tell me some frivolous things, provided there be any diversion in them, then that they should tell me nothing at all; and besides all this, it is oftentimes more agreeable to company, to talk of what is far off us, than what is near; for there is such strange news abroad here at this time, that it is better to talk of any thing else: Since I do as much desire to know the passages of Priene, replied Chrysippus, as I do hate to know what happens any where else, I would you would tell me what this strange news is? Another time I shall Sir, answered Iphicrates, but now I will not tell it unto any but Aglatonice, if She please to hear it.  
Chrysippus' hearing Iphicrates say so, was very importunate with Aglatonice to know it, in hopes to know it himself afterwards: But She having as much wit as he had little, did know very well, that She was concerned in what he would tell her, so as she told Chrysippus, that She was not so full of curiosity as he was, and therefore would not desire of Iphicrates any thing he would not tell unto others. But the more she denied Chrysippus, the more he importuned her, and was so earnest with Iphicrates to impart this strange news, that She to stop the foolish importunity of Chrysippus, did suffer Iphicrates to tell it her in a low voice, and the best jest was, whilst he talked with her, his Rival was the gladdest man in the world, imagining that whatsoever was told unto Aglatonice, he should know it before night, but he was mistaken, for the business was of another nature then to be imparted unto Chrysippus: And indeed Madam, as soon as this Lover had obtained leave to speak low, he whispered Aglatonice in the ear: The strange news I heard as I came hither was (said he unto her) that you do still continue unjust; and that Chrysippus, though an Ass, is more in your favour then ever he was, but that I on the other side am far worse.  
Iphicrates had no sooner said this, but Aglatonice with a strange inhumanity, and incredible boldness began to speak, and told Iphicrates aloud, that all this he told her was no news at all, and that She knew all he said long since, and that nothing in the world was more true than it: I leave you to judge Madam, whether or no this cruel answer did incense Iphicrates, yet it did not much move him, but he contented himself with telling Aglatonice, that he was very sorry She knew it, and should have been very glad if she had not; after which, not being able to stay any longer there, he went out, and I with him; and so we left Chrysippus importuning Aglatonice to tell him what Iphicrates had said. But Sir, this unfortunate Lover had a mind so unquiet, that I never in all my life saw such signs of fury in the face of a man; and as soon as he came into his Chamber, he talked to me, as if he would run out of his wits: But, said I unto him, Why do you not make use of all these passages to hate Aglatonice? I do protest, said he unto me, My heart begins to resent that which it never did before, for till now, I thought that I should love Aglatonice even in the very Arms of my Rival; but now I begin to think, that if She should marry him, I should hate her: If you be very certain of what you say, replied I, I would do your Rival service in lieu of hindering him; for since you cannot be loved, it is better to hate, then love her who cannot love you, and to cure yourself by hatred, then to be eternally miserable, in suffering for one that will neither care nor comfort you. Though I make no question (replied he) but that remedy would cure me, yet I do protest I will not seek it, but on the contrary, will hinder myself from using it as much as I can, not but that my mind desires a cure, but yet my heart resists it; and the truth is, I am the most miserable Lover that ever was. After this Madam, I used a hundred sharp invectives against Aglatonice; and I perceived so well, that if Chrysippus married her, he would not love her, as I resolved to use my utmost endeavours in hasting the happiness of Chrysippus.  
Thus to serve my friend; I served his Rival, and did as much for his Enemy, as I could have done for him. But in conclusion Madam, not to be over-tedious, let me tell you, that to satisfy his passion by his revenge, he fought with Chrysippus, and disarmed him: But vanquished as he was, Aglatonice still preferred him before Iphicrates, whom She hated much more than before the Combat: So that I resolved to negotiate the business with one that was Cousin unto Aglatonice, whom I was well acquainted with, and was so happy in my transaction, that the Marriage between Chrysippus and her was made up; yet I understood since from Parthenopea, that though Aglatonice loved Chrysippus, yet yet She could hardly resolve to marry him: But at last Madam, she did marry him without any seeming repugnancy. In the mean time, it was no sooner reported that Chrysippus was to marry Aglatonice, but it was again reported, that he had already married her, for the marriage was not above four days in completing: So that Iphicrates, who was gone a day's journey out of Priene, knew nothing of all this: But Madam, he received the news of it in so strange a manner, as I think you never heard the like; and I being accidentally at his Gate when he returned, as soon as he lighted from his horse, and both of us come into his Chamber, he told me how he passed by the lodging of Chrysippus, and there was such a crowd of people, that he believed there had been some qnarrel, ask me if I knew between whom: I know not (said I unto him) whether Chrysippus have been quarrelling or no, but I know very well that he married Aglatonice yesterday, and that there are a great crowd of people at his house: How (cried out Iphicrates) Aglatonice married to Chrysippus, Yes, replied I, and I must summon you to be as good as your word; and ask you if you will hate her? Yes, yes, (replied he very sharply) I will, I will hate her, and hate her so heartily, that if I do not hate her, I will hate myself: For truly Chersias (said he unto me) I must not by any means continue loving a foolish woman; that hath wholly bestowed herself upon the poorest parted fellow that lives amongst men: Had She only treated me ill, said he, I protest I should still have loved her as long as I lived; or had She only preferred Chrysippus before me without marriage, I should have suffered her injustice without hatred: But to cast away herself, to satisfy the passion of such a man as Chrysippus, this is a sin so simple, that I can never pardon it: Yes, yes, Chersias, said he, hold me for the basest of men if ever I be either an Adorer or Lover of her that is Wife unto Chrysippus.  
At these words Iphicrates stopped, as if he would ask himself whether all this was true, then said he upon a sudden; No, no, I shall quickly leave loving Aglatonice, for I find in myself a great disposition to scorn her: You may well imagine Madam, that I confirmed him in this mind as much as I could, and indeed he was so fully resolved to drive Aglatonice out of his heart, that in a few days he found his anger to be higher than his Love: And as a great help to his cure, he never came in any place where Aglatonice was not much condemned; so that curing himself by a resentment of spite, he passed from anger to hatred, and a while after, from hatred to indifferency, and at last not to endure the very sight of her. In the mean time, this unjust person was justly punished for her injustice, for the shallow capacity of Chrysippus reaching no higher than a terrestrial and gross love, and being of as light a spirit as ever was known, as soon as Aglatonice was his Wife, he was no more her Lover. So that since she could not see this without sorrow, and that a person who was used to receive offers of incense, now to receive slights and scorn, she was not only angry and grieved at this, but she was ashamed also of being the Wife unto such a Husband; yet standing upon her honour, she would not express her resentments, but carried it very fair to the world, as before. All her Lovers, except Iphicrates, continued their visits to her, and though now under the notion of friends, yet still were her Lovers.  
But Chrysippus, though a man of a very narrow soul, and not capable of any deep discernment, yet he began to be jealous: The truth is, it was no jealousy of Love, which amidst of all its phantasms, preserves some respect unto the person of whom he is jealous, and may be truly called the jealousy of a Lover; but it was a jealousy of honour, which commonly causes all those who are capable of it to be extravagant with a noise: So that the unjust Aglatonice did see herself exposed unto all manner of miseries: I also understood from Parthenopea, that She began to be so sensible of her injustice in preferring Chrysippus before Iphicrates, that according as She did drive the first of these out of her heart, she received in the second, and repented herself for treating him as she had done; yet She being indeed virtuous, all this passed in her mind without being perceived, yet She was not altogether so miserable as another might have been in her case, for being a Lover of pleasures, for all the fantastical humours of Chrysippus, She did divert herself. But now every one of her Lovers began to fall off, and to do what they could to displease her, and at last, did hate her, as much as before they loved her: So that Madam, Iphicrates had the satisfaction to see his Rivals revenged upon his Mistress, and his Mistress revenged upon his Rivals; and he had this advantage, to gust his revenge with tranquillity, and to find his heart so freely disengaged from that passion which did before tyrannize over it, that he could not possibly be freer than now he was. But Madam, to come unto that which will prove, that it is not an easy matter to love the same person twice, be pleased to know, that Chrysippus did engage himself in a quarrel, did fight, and was killed, so that Aglatonice was rid of an odd husband, and in a capacity to do justice unto Iphicrates, if Iphicrates was in the same mind as before; And indeed Madam, after she had left off mourning, she changed her lodging, and chance did so fall out, that her lodging was directly over against that of her ancient Lover. So that civility obliging him to see her, he did visit her, and the rather, because he found his heart so absolutely disengaged, that it was all indifferency, and had neither hatred nor affection to her: In this tranquil mind, Iphicrates did venture to see Aglatonice again, and saw her, without the least disturbance of his tranquillity, yet Aglatonice was as far as ever, and he knew very well, that if he would he could succeed in the place of Chrysippus, yet he did not find the least motion of Love, but was so far from it, as I have heard him say, he would rather marry an ugly old witch, then begin again to love Aglatonice, and his soul was so settled in insensibility, that he would often talk to her of old passages between them, and rally at them. In the mean time, I must confess unto you, that I was nothing pleased at these visits; but was afraid lest he should re-ingage himself, for he being a man of strong and violent passions, I wished for his own rests sake, that he should never fall in Love again with her. So that one evening, pressing him to go no more unto Aglatonice, I pray Chersias (said he) never trouble yourself, nor fear that I shall ever re-ingage myself; but yet▪ She is so fair, (said I unto him) and so sweet as ever she was before, that I must needs fear it: 'Tis true, said he, But Chersias know, that my love of her being once extinguished, all her art can never kindle it again: Since I hate her now, I shall never love her again, it is a thing absolutely impossible, for hatred is a passion as violent as love, Love may change itself into hatred when Love precedes, but when Love passes into hatred, from hatred to scorn and from scorn to dead neutrality, be assured, one can never love again: And indeed Madam the event showed, that Iphicrates was not mistaken, for he could never love Aglatonice again, though he saw her a thousand times after the death of Chrysippus; but on the contrary, I have seen him become a Confident nnto one of her Lovers; and I have seen him marry another, though he was certain that he might have married Aglatonice if he would. After this Madam, I assure myself you will think this example sufficient to prove, that one cannot love one and the same person twice, and is as strong an example, as that which Menesiphiles related to prove, that one may be twice inspired with love of the same person.  
When I had ended my relation, the Princess of Corinth, and the Princess of Lindes, both confessed, that these two examples were extremely contrary: But reasons being always more prevalent than examples (said Eumetis to the company) it were good to examine and know whether those of Chersias have more solidity in them, than those Menesiphiles.  
But Madam, as I was going to answer, all the Sages were seen to come in, accompanied with Niloxenus, Diocles, and Cleodemes, who after they had argued upon high and excellent questions, came out of the Hal● where the Princesses left them, and came to take the air where they were: However, since the Princesses had a desire to hear the reasons of Menesiphiles and myself, Eumetis addressed herself unto Periander, and told him, that he came very opportunely to be judge of a question of Gallantry, unto which all the company were to give their opinions: For Sir (added She) though it be no question concerning Government of Kingdoms, or ruling of Commonwealths, yet I think it not unworthy the curiosity of the Sages, since it is concerning all the odd effects of so powerful and general a passion.  
Periander then being acquainted with the question, Solon whom it concerned did think it so nice, that he said he was ready to give his opinion, and turning towards the rest, one out of inclination, another out of complacency, and all disposed themselves to give their Votes: So that Melissa being come, and every one taking their places except Aesop, who left his, Cleobuline commanded me to give my reasons, permitting Menesiphiles to interrupt me when he pleased: So that after I had a little thought upon what to say, I addressed myself unto Menesiphiles, as against whom I was to dispute: Methinks (said I unto him) to judge rightly upon the question in hand, and to know truly whether it be not a thing extremely rare (if not impossible) to love one Lady twice, it must be considered what causes love, to the end it may be seen whether it be found in a person whom one loved before: Since it is the same person, replied Menesiphiles, it must of necessity follow, that the same is to be found in her the second time, which was in her the first; to wit, the same beauty the same Spirit, and the same agreeableness; and therefore since these did invite the first time, they may also the second. Not at all, replied I, for though all these be the same, yet they may want one particular charm which highly sets them off, and that is novelty; for that lustre which at the first did dazzle the eyes, and beget admiration, by being well acquainted with them, they become but ordinary, use and custom does glut the senses, and it is with beauty as with perfumes, which after the first time, lose their smells, and consequently cannot beget a second liking, or make a new Conquest. Moreover, as there is a necessity of hopes growing up with love: So I hold it a most difficult thing for hope to revive when one leaves off loving out of reason, or despair, or when Love of itself doth extinguish, and I am persuaded that when one leaves off desiring a thing, because he doth think it not worthy to be desired, it is not an easy matter to renew that desire again: However, it is impossible that hope should grow without desires, and that love can subsist without hope. I do very well grant, there may be some quarrelling, during which one may imagine that he does not love, though still he do, but I cannot conceive that when one doth really cease to love, one should ever begin again to love the same person. Yet it is most commonly seen, replied Menesiphiles, that a Candle extinguished will be more easily lighted again, then if it had never been lighted; and though there be no heat at all left in, yet there doth remain a kind of disposition, which makes it more capable of taking fire; and I am verily persuaded, that when one hath vehemently loved a person, there does still reside some light touch of heat in the heart of that Lover, which makes him more disposed to be moved at the charms of her he loved before, then at the charms of any other; for it must be granted, that she has such charms as will please him, because they pleased him before, and therefore is more fit and likely to engage him the second time, than any other person. For my part, replied I, I must confess I cannot understand how a person, whose charms had not power enough to keep a man from ceasing to love her, should have power to make the same Lover love her the second time: For I am persuaded, that as it is easier to keep the fire from extinguishing, than it is to light it; so it is more easy to preserve Love, then to recreate it: So that in my opinion, as soon as a Lady sees that her beauty cannot hold her Lover, she never need to think of ever fettering him again, if once he really broke her chains: But commonly those who are said to begin to love the same person again, did never really leave loving her, though they thought they did, and questionless some sparks of the old fire lay hid in the Embers, and seeming dead, did deceive their own thoughts: Indeed there are some jealous Lovers, who are so bold in their raptures, as to say they do not love, though all the world knows there can be no real jealousy without love: There are others also, who because they have some sparks or effects of hatred in their mind, presently they think they do hate: For sometimes one shall see them in an angry mood, make cruel imprications against those they adored, yet it often happens, that they would not curse them, but because they love them. But besides these two sorts of Lovers, who love and know it not, and who think they begin to love upon a new score, when as they do only continue the old; there is a third kind, who think, as the rest, that they are not in love, because their Love cools, and slacks a little for a time, and they are not sensible of it, either in point of joys, or point of sorrows; but for all that, their affections are but asleep, not dead: And when this kind of Love begins to quicken by any accident, it must be said only to waken, not revive. So that I do not wonder, many are persuaded one may love the same person twice, since the very same persons, who have these kinds of passion whereof I speak, are deceived themselves first, and then they deceive others, and yet it holds most constantly true, that (without a prodigy) one cannot love one beauty twice, yes I must confess, that when love ceases by reason of any strange or unjust cause, one may cease and begin again to love: For example, if a man in love thinks he is betrayed, and in the heat of his resentment he passes from love to hatred, and a while after he finds that he was mistaken, I believe it will be an easy matter to revive that passion in his heart which he banished, because he finds her to be the same She was when he loved her, this is rather a continuance, than a recommencement of love; but for any other manner, for which a man may break off with his Mistress, I hold it impossible he should ever love her twice. Since it hath happened so in Philidas, replied Menesiphiles, it may again happen so in another. And since it did not happen so in Iphicrates (replied I) it is not likely it should happen so again, for every thing did invite him as much as possible to begin again to love Aglatonice. The interest of his fortune did suit with that of his love, if he could have loved; she was fairer than ever, she was nothing so cruel, Iphicrates was engaged no where else, he saw her every day, he talked with her every hour, his soul was naturally amorous, and he had loved as violently as ever any did, and yet for all this, he could not love her the second time, and doubtless the rule holds true in love as in all things else, that when they are once destroyed and gone, they never return to be the same they were again. But Chersias, replied Menesiphiles, I have many reasons more strong against you; for I believe that the most essential cause of love, is that invisible band that ties hearts so fast together, and is called Sympathy; and I do believe also, that this Sympathy can never end: Since we see all natural inclinations never change, either amongst Inanimates, animals, or men; for the Loadstone will love to draw iron to it as long as it is a Loadstone, the Lion will fear that Bird which is called the Herald of the day, as long as he is a Lion; men do keep the first inclinations which nature gave them, even unto death; and indeed a covetous man will never be liberal, without a strange violence upon himself, the envious man never commends any without regret, and an ambitious man will never submit without sorrow; and in my opinion, all these several inclinations are not more strong in our hearts, than that Sympathy is, which makes us love one person more than another: So that as all these inclinations do subsist, as long as we subsist ourselves, it follows of absolute necessity, that the Sympathy which makes us love, doth subsist also: 'Tis true, our inclinations are sometimes forced by reason, though we still have them; and the effects of this Sympathy whereof I speak, may be suspended by some accident; but for all that, it cannot cease being, and consequently I conclude, that there is still a great disposition to love what formerly one loved, since the cause never ceased: And as there are some certain things which hinder the effects of the Loadstone, so there may be which hinder the effects of Sympathy, but removing those obstacles, the Sympathy begins again to operate, and I am so verily persuaded of what I say, that I do much more wonder to see one leave loving what he loved before, then to see one love one and the same person twice.  
Custom and habitude which is so strong in all things, makes also the mind to have a natural propencity of loving again that person whom it loved long: The boughs of trees tatched to a wall, are so accustomed to that posture they are put unto, that of themselves they ply unto it, though untatched, so powerful is habit and custom in every thing. So that it is no wonder at all, if there be a great facility of loving the second time that person whom one loved before, since they do no more than what before they had done: And indeed the example of Philidas, and Anaxandride, makes it apparent, that the reasons I have given are good, for had there not been a powerful Sympathy between them, they had never renewed their Love: Philidas had too much wronged Anaxandride ever to think of becoming her Lover again, had he not been forced unto it, and Anaxandride had too unjustly forsaken him; ever to trust his affection; yet they loved more zealously the second time, than they did the first; and whether Sympathy or habilitude, or both together, were the cause they still do love with as much zeal as fidelity, and in all likelihoods will continue so eternally.  
After this, Menesiphiles being silent, the Princess of Lindes who was the cause of this dispute, desired all this illustrious company they would be pleased to give their opinions in the matter; and there being men too much knowing to give their opinions without their reasons, these wise men did make the most pleasing definition of Love that ever was. But in conclusion, the plurality of Votes was on the side of Menesiphiles, for they did not only conclude, that one might love one and the same person twice, but also, that it was much much more easy for a man to return unto his first Mistress, then to love a new one; yet they acknowledged that it does not happen so often as it ought, adding, that most of those who cease to love, did doubtless never love very much: For my part (said Aesop, who was of a contrary opinion to theirs) I am sure that I loved Rhodope as well, or better then ever any did or could love, and I am as sure that now I do not love her, nor ever shall, I fortify the side of Monesiphiles by my example, nor do I like that men should be less rational than the Tirtles, who never love but once. After this, passing from one subject to another; the Question was asked, Why beauty did not necessarily produce Love in the souls of all those who beheld it alike? Why some women who were not at all fair, yet raised great and violent passions, instancing also many examples of its odd effects. Solon said, that as hope nourished love, so jealousy did augment it, provided it was not over violent, and it grounded. Periander on the contrary maintained, that this passion was an Enemy to love, though it was inseparable companion. Bias takeing a third side said, That a Lover might be capable of jealousy, yet never jealous. Pittacus affirmed, that one was never jealous, but when the party loved did give some cause of it, and if that cause was given he ought to hate her: Cleobulus and Thales on the coutrary said, that love without jealousy was but faint and cold: And Chilon according to his natural severity said, That one should not be jealous of any thing but his own glory: As for Anacharsis he said, that one ought to be jealous of every thing he loved, affirming, that one cannot love any thing dearly, but they will fear to lose the enjoyment of it, and that one cannot fear the loss of it without some sparks of jealousy. As for Aesop, he using his Beasts and Birds to set forth his Philosophy, he said, that as the Pelican gives life unto those who give her death, so jealousy is a passion that murders the love which gave it being As for the Princesses, they confined themselves to the modesty of their Sex, and submitted to the opinions of the Sages.  
As they were thus discoursing, one came and acquainted Periander with the accident that befell Arion, and Periander causing the man to relate it unto all the company, this wonderful adventure was an admirable diversion to them: For he described how the Dolphin saved Arion so admirably well, and how he brought him to the Port of Tenarus, that it was as pleasing as if they had seen it. But this accident being known to all the world, I shall not trouble you Madam with the relation of it, only tell you, how Periander remembering he had heard Thales say, that men ought only to tell probabilities, but never any thing which is not, though it be true; therefore he asked him pardon, for causing a relation to be made which seemed almost impossible: 'Tis very true, said the wise Bias, that was one of Thales his Maxims; and I have heard him also say, that one should never believe their Enemies in things which seemed most credible: But to believe their friends in things incredible: And therefore you need not fear that he will accuse you. After this, divers examples were related of the love of Dolphins towards men: Solon related that of hesiod, whose body a Dolphin carried to Land near the Town of Molicry, and which was a cause that they who murdered that famous Poet, were punished. Pittacus also related an example of the goodness in Dolphins to one whose name was ●nalus, Son unto the Founder of Mytilene, whose life the Dolphins saved. Well then (said Aesop and laughed) Since Dolphins do such wonders, Why do you mock at my Gayes and my Crows for speaking? For my part (said Cleobulin) I do not mock, for they speak so well. that it is hard for any to speak better: Though you do not Madam, replied he, yet there are men who judge of things according to appearances, and who because they see they are but Beasts, which I introduce, do never think that it was a man that made them speak; not that they are much in the wrong (added he) for one cannot know the truth by appearances: Then you have forgot your Fox (replied Anacharsis very pleasantly) for when you made him enter into contest with the Leopard, to know which of them two had the most spots, he desired his Judge not so much to consider the exterior spots which the Leopard had upon his skin, as those he had in his head, assuring him, that if he did well consider his, he would find greater variety then in his who disputed so much which was best spotted: 'Tis true (said Esope) I did contradict myself: But to tell you truly, added he and laughed, I have made so many Beasts to speak, that I fear by teaching them my language, I shall at last learn theirs, and by making them become what I am, I shall myself become what they are: Ah Esope, said Eumetis, what Spirit soever you have inspired into your Beasts and Birds, you have yet much more than you have infused into them.  
After this, every one according to their inclinations, parted into several companies in that pleasant Grove: Chilon he went walking with Anacharsis, Periander with Thales, Niloxenus, Bias, Pittacus, Cleobulus and Cleodema: But Solon having a natural inclination unto Gallantry, he stayed with the Ladies, and made the conversation more pleasant than ever any I knew in all my life: Indeed this man so wise, and so highly prudent, did know so well how to comply with the times, and persons unto whom he spoke, that he could speak upon every Subject: The truth is, it argued no baseness of spirit in him, for being with the Princess of Corinth, and the Princess of Lindes, he might well talk of the most sublime matters without any fear of being not understood, and he related all that was said amongst the Sages, since the Princesses came out of the Hall, and did it with so much, and in so few words, that he did epitomise all their excellent discourse, to wit, all that morality or policy could teach. Afterwards Solon told the two Princesses, that they ought to think themselves infinitely happy in being so much above all the rest of their Sex, and yet to have so much moderation as to keep within such limits as modesty required all Ladies should in matters of Sciences, and not to show any such weakness as women are commonly charged with: For truly, said he and smiled, there are but a very few who are not so weak as to wish themselves loved by more men than they would love. For my part, said Cleobuline, I believe one may without a crime wish to be esteemed by all the world, but I cannot allow any should make more men in love with them, than they would love: Yet I assure you Madam, replied Solon, it is the general mind of most beauties, and a mind more dangerous than they imagine: Yet there are many, replied Eumetis, who do only out of vanity, and do not wish to be loved, but because they think that the esteem of Beauty is love: 'Tis true (replied Solon) it is often so; but yet for all that, few Ladies would love, if they were never loved, and when they wish that men should love them, they then begin to love also: For my part, said Esope, I cannot think it necessary to love a Lady before she loves him; and as there are an infinite number of men who love first, so I believe there are an infinite number of women who love first also; and though all the Sages should say the contrary, I should hardly believe them. Ah Esope (said Eumetis) What injustice do you unto our Sex? Believe it Madam (replied he) I am not so unjust as you imagine: For I beseech you, what reason have we to love before we be loved, more than you have? Have Ladies hearts different from the hearts of men? Is not love a passion in their souls as well as in all mens? Is it an act of their will to love, or not to love? The reason why it is not so often said that women love not, and are not beloved more than men, is because only decency has established so a Law, that it is less shame for a man then a woman to love, and not be beloved: But the truth is, all the difference betwixt us is, when women love and are not loved, they say not a word of it, nor make any complaints, and men do tell it, and complain aloud; for since they have eyes, and wit, and hearts capable of being moved, it must be concluded, that they can love before they be loved, as well as men, and to prove it, there need only be considered, that love alone, be it as zealous as it will, does not oblige them to love, but the lover must also please them, for if he do not, all his love will not be worth a straw.  
As Esope said so, and Solon was ready to answer, all the several companies which were parted, did accidentally meet in a place which six walks joined, so that the company rejoined again. And Solon finding the question which Esope put to be worthy of curiosity, did propound it unto the illustrious company, who prepared themselves to give their opinions. For my part, said the Princess of ●indes, I think it so strange to love before I be loved, that I cannot endure to hear our Sex accused of any such weakness. But Madam, said Esope, it must be one of the two that must begin to love, and if so, why not the woman as well as the man-lover: Because (replied Eumetis) decency will not permit it: But Madam, said Esope, since the Law of Nature is more ancient than the Law of Decency, that argument is but weak. It is certain, said Solon, that to speak truly, a woman may love before she be loved as well as a man, yet it is as certain, that it is not so, so often, and the best reason that can be given for it is, because women are fairer, and all the ornaments both of body and mind more attractive, and more engaging than men's, and consequently their merits does produce a more quick effect then ours, so that commonly men do love them before they have leisure to be loved again. Moreover, women are born with more vanity, and so have less disposition to be first in love; and as they are brought up, they are not permitted to follow the pure course of nature, because from the very Cradle they are so told and taught not to love before they are loved, that they keep a continual Guard upon themselves; yet for all that, I am persuaded it is not impossible, but it may be so sometimes: I assure myself, replied Esope, that Chilon with his austerity would think himself dishonoured, if he should read such a Lecture upon Love as Solon hath done: Truly, replied he, I find him to be very knowing in matters of Gallantry, to be a maker of such excellent Laws, at least I know there is none in Lacedemonia, who knows so much as he: Since the Athenians, replied Solon, are nothing so wise as the Lacedæmonians, I can confess without shame, that I do understand what love is, as well as the rest of the passions.  
But to return to the question in hand, what is the opinion of the company? For my part (said Thales) I think a woman may love the first, but I think withal, that few women can love long unless they be loved, and not pass from love to hatred: For my particular, replied Periander, I think it may be so, but I think also, that a Lady is not very amiable, if in loving she does not soon make herself loved: I am so fully persuaded, said Cleobulus and smiled, that Ladies are more fit to be loved then to love, that I am so far from thinking they should love first, that I can hardly think they will love when they are loved: I am not of that opinion (said Bias) for I do think that when they are loved, they will love more earnestly and firmly than men; but I must confess, I can hardly think they can love first, because there is not one of a thousand women who does not love those testimonies which▪ love useth to produce, better than the Lover who gives them; and since these testimonies cannot be met with, if she love first, I am persuaded they are not capable of it. For my part, said Pittacus, I think that love not being an act of the will, it grows in the heart of a woman before She be loved, as well as in the heart of a man: For my part, said Anacharsis, I know not what the power of love is in Greece, but in Scythia neither men nor women do love before they be loved, or at least before they find a disposition, and hopes of being loved ere long, for I do not think it possible love should subsist without those conditions, not but that there may be some exceptions, but to speak in general, it is as I say: Though Egypt, replied Niloxenus, be far different from Scithea in all things, yet they think as you say. Well, said Solon, it must be granted, that it is not impossible but Ladies may love before they be loved: Truly, said the Princess of ●indes, it is not impossible, but yet it is very difficult: Yes Madam, said Solon, to such as have such souls as you have: But that would be too great a favour unto your Sex, and to set you too much above us, if we should attribute such thoughts as yours unto all women.  
As Eumetis was going to answer the civility of Solon, a sweet Consort of Music was heard in the midst of the Grove, which imposed silence unto all the company, unto which after they had harkened a while, they parted again into several companies; but as the Sun was ready to set, and Thales using to observe the heavens, he stayed to look upon that glorious Planet, which having spread its golden rays upon the Sea, did seem to communicate a part of its light unto it. As for Solon, he staying to hear the Music with the Ladies, by chance he sp●ed at the root of a tree close by, a long file of A●tes, which with wonderful earnestness, order, and affection, did work for their public utility: So as admiring the order which they kept in their works, he contemplated upon them very seriously; but Esope who was next him, knew well enough what he thought, and what it was which invited his serious looks: Confess the truth Sir (said he unto him and smiled) would you not be glad the Athenians would observe your Laws, so well as these observe theirs? I must needs confess it (replied Solon and laughed, as well as all that heard him) and I confess it to the shame of my Country: Since your Country hath a man who gives them such just Laws (replied Cleobuline) it must needs be very glorious: It would be much more, if they would observe them, replied he, then in giving birth unto a man, who perhaps keeps them not himself.  
After this, Solon entering into discourse of the Government of people, he was full of rare expressions, and all the company assembling the third time, the discourse grew all serious, each of them reporting the most commendable customs of his City. Thales spoke of the Milesian Piety: Pittacus of the Martial inclination of the Militenian Inhabitants. Bias of their politness which dwelled in Priene: Cleobuline of the Lindean honesty: Periander of the ambitious people in Corinth: Solon of the stirring and seditious humour of the Athenians, and Chilon of the austere and virtuous inclination of the Lacedæmonians. After which, examining the virtues and vices of all these several and different people, they discoursed so long upon it, that it was full time to return to Corinth: And indeed the discourse of these great wits did so much win upon the Spirits of all who heard them, that Esope had not observed abundance of birds, which came to take up their lodgings in the woods, and had not showed by them unto all the company what time of the night it was, it had been too late for them to have returned: And he came to all the Sages, telling them very pleasantly, that these birds were wiser than they, and better knew the time of the night than they did. In conclusion Madam, all the company concurr●ed with Esope, that it would be night before they reached Corinth, if they tarried any longer; and so all departed fully satisfied with the day's discourse: Yet Madam, do not judge of it by my imperfect relation, for I must confess my unworthiness to be a relator of all the passages at this Banquet of the Sages.  
Chersias having ended, he received a thousand thanks from Cyrus, and as many civilities from Onesile; the like did Menesiphiles. After which, saying she would make use of that advice which Esope gave unto the Sages. She did rise up to depart, lest it should be dark before she came to that little Town where she lodged. But Cyrus desiring her to take part of a collation before she went, she stayed; and during all that time, nothing was talked on, but on what Menesiphiles and Chersias had related; and I cannot tell whether the discourse of Cyrus and Onesile during the collation, was not as admirable as that of the Sages during theirs: Telagenes also had a thousand quirks of a pleasant wit. After which, Onesile taking Coach, she departed with a Convoy, and left Cyrus in a strange impatience, to hear something of the happy success of Anacharsis. In the mean time, though he would willingly have taken some hours to talk with himself, yet he spent it all in keeping up that Noble heat in the hearts of his Commanders and Soldiers, which had gotten him so many glorious Victories. So that talking sometimes to one, and sometimes to another, he inspired them all with that heroic heat which was in his own heart: Mazares also did much help him in disposing the Soldiers to fight gallantly when time should call them to it, though the small interest he had in all these Victories did procure him many a sad hour, and truly his virtue stood in need of all its strength to resist his love. Myrsiles for his particular was not less zealous than Mazares, though he had no surety of Doralisa's affection; yet he had this satisfaction to know, that though he was not loved, yet no other was, and that Andramites was hated. In the mean time, after he had with much impatience long looked for the return of Anacharsis, that famous Scithean returned without obtaining any thing from Thomiris, and without Ortalques his being able to get a sight of Mandana, because she was then more strictly guarded then at the beginning; yet since hesaw Gelonide, the Princess received his Letter, and returned an answer, but the answer was in such a moving strain, as it did more grieve then comfort him. Araminta also answered in a way so fit to incite sadness, that Cyrus was much more miserable after the return of Anacharsis, than he was before. But I pray (said this grieved Prince unto that Noble Scithean, after he said he could obtain nothing) What can Thomiris say to colour the War which she brings upon herself, by detaining the Princess Mandana? She says Sir (replied he) as much as any can say that will not tell the true reason why she acts with so much injustice. Indeed she hath published a Manifest to the people, and in the Courts of both the Scitheans, by which she declares that you aspire unto Universal Monarchy, and that the Princess Mandana is but the pretence to colour your ambition: That when this fails you, than you will find another, and that's her reason she will not restore her unto you, since it is some security to herself to have her in her power. After this, she conveens all the people, and all the Princes who are ignorant of your authority, to unite themselves courageously, and to give a stop to your Victories.  
Thus Sir, your great Conquests giving some colour to her reasons, this Manifest is doubtless very well taken by the people, who seeing She is resolved to make War with you, do begin to think out of their dull capacities that now it is not in her passion which incites her unto her undertake; so that the Massagettans seem as if resolved to defend her to the very last man. The rest of the Scithean Kings do combine against you, and not one of them but makes Levies, and joins with Thomiris against you. But Sir, the worst I have to tell you is, Ariantes having been in your Army, and being most knowing in all passages, he conceives, that when you have passed over the river Araxes, you cannot get to the Tents Royal, but by such a way as where one file can but pass at once: So that to give a stop to your passage, he hath built a Fort which is now almost finished, purposely to defend that pass, knowing that if your Army do take that way of the Plains, it will perish, by reason of the abundance of waters: So that conceiving you must come by that place which he hath fortified, he thinks you not in a condition to do any good; and indeed, Thomiris cares so little for guarding the pass over Araxes, that she charged me to tell you, that she will have no peace but what victory will give her; and to make it appear she has no mind to protract the war, she consents if you please, that you shall enter into her Country, and in order to that, her troops shall retreat three day's journey from Araxes: Yes wise Anacharsis (replied Cyrus) since the Massagettan Queen will have it so, I will enter into her Country; and though the Fort she has erected be more difficult to take then Babylon was, it shall not stop my designs: Sir (replied this Sage Scithean) though Thomiris seemed to be very high and obstinate in her resolutions, yet I despair not, but to see her change her mind, if the first accidents of this War should succeed ill, and therefore Sir despair not.  
After this Sir, Ortalques told Cyrus, that one of Mandana's Guard (who said he had seen Feraulas on the banks of Phases, and had promised to acquaint him with all he knew) had charged him to tell him, that Thomiris would never have offered to let him pass over the river Araxes, but to engage him in a battle upon an advantageous place, that she would never have offered it, but in a belief he would not accept it; and that unless he could take that Fort which Ariantes had built, it would be a hard matter to overcome her, or come near the Tents-Royal. But to take this Fort, said Cyrus, I must pass over the river Araxes, and be perfectly acquainted with the situation. Moreover Sir, replied Ortalques, Gelonide charged me to tell you, that Ariantes did what he could to hinder Thomiris from sending you word by Anacharsis, that she would let you pass over the river Araxes, because he said that it was the worst that could befall him: But this Princess desiring no more but to engage you Sir in her Country, intends (as Gelonide says) That when you are entered into her Conntry, to break or burn your Bridge of Boats by which you passed over the River, to the end she might be sure to have you in her power if she got the victory, as she hoped she should, by reason of those difficult passes you would be engaged to take; and that's the reason (as she told me) why Thomiris does not advauce with her Army, but will suffer you to pass over, and come to seek her: She told me further, That Aripit▪ s, who is still in love with that Princess, does bring her great aid: But never was the like reports heard, as of their unequalled pains which built the Fort which Ariantes erected, and which is called the Fort of Sauromates, because it was the Sauromates which made it; for that people being used to work in the Mines in their own Country, they can carry and remove the earth with such ease and haste, that they will do more work in one month, than others can do in four. Moreover Gelonide told me how she had discovered, That not long since Arsamones had sent secretly unto Thomiris, and was negotiating some business of great importance with her. And Sir, she had told me further, if one had not told her that Thomiris sent for her; and doubtless there had been some combat between some persons of note; for the Messenger from Thomiris to her said, That there had been some disorder about a quarrel; but since he did no further explain himself, and since I was to leave him, and depart the same hour with Anacharsis, I could know no further. But since Adonacris does stay a day or two longer, in hopes to work upon Ariantes, you may happily at his return know whether this great disorder will any thing advantage you Sir, or no: And Anabaris can also by him send you word what he can gather from his friends, for he hath conferred with them, and will send their answers by him.  
After this, Cyrus desiring the advice of all the able men about him, upon a business of such importance, he held a Council of War, at which he entreated Anacharsis to be present, but that Sage Scithean told him that he would be ever ready to execute his orders, but desired excuse from meddling in mysteries of so high a nature. So then Cyrus assembling Croessus, Artamas, Mazares, Myrsiles, Intaphernes, Gadates, Gobrias, Indatherses, and all the rest who used to sit in Council, he propounded the state of things unto them. At the first, the plurality of voices was, that Cyrus should send unto Thomiris, to tell her he was ready to retreat three day's journey from Araxes, so she would herself in person come over in the head of her Army to meet him, so she would bring the Princess Mandana with her, and so she would promise to restore her if she was overcome, and so she would engage herself to give battle within three days after she had passed over the river. But Cyrus not being accustomed to go back, and not being able to stir a foot further from the place where he was to deliver Mandana, it was evident that this Proposition did not please him; and he was very glad to see that Croessus and Mazares were not of that opinion, but of his. And the truth is (said he to all the Assembly) to go back before a Queen after our vanquishing so many valiant Kings, were to dishonour our Army. Moreover, who knows whether after we have overcome them they will yield unto us the fruits of our Victory, though they should promise it? And whether in coming over the river whereof they are Masters, they will not defend it with the remnant of their broken Army, and hinder us from delivering Mandana? So that to act prudently, and with glory both, I conclude it best to accept of the offer which Thomiris makes of letting us pass over the river Araxes, for pass we must, though she should defend it: But Sir (said Indatherses to him) the advice which was given you does merit very good consideration: For your Army cannot advance towards Thomiris by the Plains, by reason of water; and to pass through the woods where she hath built a Fort, the pass is so narrow, that I dare not answer for the event, if you pass that way with your Army: When we are on the other side of the river, replied Cyrus, then will we find out which pass is best; for indeed it is to no purpose to capitulate with Thomiris, and to tell her that if she be overcome than she shall restore Mandana, but if she be, that will follow of itself, and therefore it need not be demanded: And though I should be beaten, and my Army shattered, I would fetch another and renew the war; and as long as there is a man left in all the Countries I have conquered, or in the Countries of Ciaxares, or my Fathers, I will still fight for Mandana's Delivery; and therefore over the river Araxes we must pass some way or other. I understand this morning that Boats and all things necessary to make a Bridge are ready, and without staying for any answer from Thomiris, they shall begin the Bridge this very day; in the mean time, I will send Chrisantes to tell Thomiris, that I will ere long come and bring my answer myself in the head of my Army.  
Cyrus' spoke this with such a resolute voice, that none durst oppose his will: So that every one conforming themselves thereunto, this Prince assured them that his resolution would succeed happily; and indeed he made his words good, for he bestirred himself with so much diligence, and gave out orders with so much judgement, and they were executed with so much quickness, that the Bridge over Araxes seemed to be made by enchantment; for the Boats were brought so suddenly, and tied unto one another in so short a time, that the Troops of Thomiris did not know the Bridge was made before the Vanguard of Cyrus his Army was over. 'Tis true, to deceive them, this Prince caused some Boats to be brought unto a place over against them, and began to work, as if the Bridge was to be made in that place. And whilst they were amusing themselves about this feigned Bridge, Cyrus was making another much below the other, in a place where on the other side there was no houses. So that this Bridge being made without any obstacle, there was two Brigades drawn up into Battalia by break of day on the other side of the river, to facilitate the Pass of the Army, if any opposition come: But Cyrus needed not to fear that, for there was such a terror amongst the men of Thomiris when they knew of certainty that the Army of Cyrus had passed the river, as they knew not what to do; yet the Commanders after they had a little heartened their men, they forced them to march towards the place where this Army passed over: But when they came there, they would not permit them to attempt any thing, for the whole Vanguard of Cyrus being all over, and drawn into Battalia, they were in a good posture of defence: Yet the Massagettans made some skirmishes, but they succeeded so ill, that they were forced to retreat, and send Post haste unto the Tents Royal to acquaint Thomiris with the passage of Cyrus over the river.  
In the mean while, this Prince having spent all the night and all the day in passing over the rest of his Army, and had given orders for their incampment, he resolved, without giving so much time unto Thomiris as to be acquainted with his passage, to send some Troops towards her, and himself to go in person and view those narrow passes which was so much talked of; for knowing that this Princess intended to guard the passes, and not advance with her Army, he would see whether there was any possibility of surprising the Fort of Sauromates, before she had stopped the advenues in the Wood, and before the Fort was finished. So that taking some guides, he went with Mazares, Indatherses, Araspes, Aglatidas, Ligdamis, and twelve or fifteen others, to view these passes. So that setting out at midnight, and making towards the Fort of Sauromates, he got to the entrance into the Wood by break of day, without any obstacle, or any fear of any; for conceiving Thomiris to be still at the Tents Royal, where Anacharsis left her, she could not so soon hear of his passage, or guard the narrow passes which he went to view, since she thought him to be on the other side of the river.  
Thus trusting to his own prudence and good fortune, he entered into the wood by the conduct of his guides. But he was no sooner got a hundred paces within it, than he heard upon his left hand a noise of horses. Presently after, he espied the Queen of Massagettes on horseback in the head of thirty Cavaliers, coming towards him. This sight so surprised Cyrus, that in lieu of advancing towards her, his first thought was to check his horse from going so fast, yet indeed he could not well tell what his thoughts were at that time. As for Thomiris, as soon as she spied Cyrus, fury did so raise her heart, that she turned fiercely towards those who followed her. Valiant Massagettans (said she, and showed them Cyrus with her hand) you would this day end the war, and revenge your Queen, if you could bring into my fetters that terrible Enemy which I show unto you.  
Upon these words, those who followed Thomiris, advanced towards Cyrus; and this fair incensed Queen having that day a Sword hanging in a Chain of Gold, whose Buckles were set with Diamonds, she drew it fiercely out of the Scabbard, and by a menacing action made a sign unto Cyrus, that she thought herself now able to be revenged upon him for his scorn. On the other side, this Prince, who out of an heroic shame to draw his Sword against a woman, and a woman who heretofore had loved him, and still did, as angry as she was, he seeing her men coming to assault him, and considering that if he could get Thomiris into his power the war would not be so long, since Ariantes had not so much power over the people, and so consequently Mandana would be sooner delivered, he turned towards those who followed him, and after many encouragements, and charging them not to kill Thomiris, but endeavour to take her, he advanced towards them also, and fell on so sharply, that though they were more in number, stronger, yet the first shaken made them believe they had the worst of the bargain, and Thomiris sent one of her men in all haste unto Ariantes, who was viewing on the other side to come and help as soon as he could. In the mean time, the fight was fierce, and Cyrus made his way through the first rank of his Enemies, and breaking through the rest, but getting near Thomiris, fury and jealousy together obliged her to draw her Sword. Cyrus no sooner saw this, but letting the point of his Sword fall, and suspending his valour: For heaven's sake Madam (cried he) force me not to use my Sword against a Queen, whom I would have served were she not unjust. Thomiris no sooner heard these words, but she commanded her men to cease fight. Cyrus did the like; and both being obeyed, an object both terrible and glorious, both was to be seen in the wood, for eight or ten men might be seen dead upon the spot, and those who were alive had such a fierce grimness in their looks, as expressed abundance of terror. As for Cyrus, though there was fierceness in his eyes, and anger and fury in his soul, and had a Sword all bloody in his hand, yet his action was so full of respect, and it was so apparent, that his desire was to deliver Mandana without ruin unto Thomiris, that there was none but plainly saw it, and the generosity of his heart. As for Thomiris, she was so fair that day, as none but Mandana in the world could come in comparison with her. This Princess was that day mounted upon a goodly black horse, whose trapping was pure gold; the habit of Thomiris was cloth of Gold with borders of green, mixed with Carnation, and it was made after the mode of Pallas when painted armed; her Gown being tacked with buckles of Diamonds, made her Buskins to be seen, which was suitable to the rest of her habits: The dress upon her head was adorned with precious stones, and a Carnation white and green plume did hover over her fair hair, which waving at the pleasure of the wind, did confusedly mix with the feathers as she turned her head, and a thousand negligent, but lovely curls, gave a rare lustre unto her beauty. Moreover, her sleeves being turned up, and tacked higher than her elbows, and she holding the Bridle of her Horse in one hand, and her Sword in the other, the fairest arms in the world were to be seen quite bare. Fury also had put such a fresh Carnation upon her cheeks, that she was now far fairer than ordinary. Also her joy to see Cyrus, and to find him in such a respective posture towards her, had so quelled that fury which was a little before in her aspect, as she seemed infinitely amiable and charming Also her hopes of taking him if Ariantes came soon enough to aid her, did fill her full of delight, and moved her to speak less sharply unto him, purposely to stay him the longer: So that after the combat was ceased, and Cyrus had let fall the point of his Sword, and desired her not to force him to ruin a Queen whom he desired to serve: This fair Soldier, answered him, that since it was he who began the war, she might continue it without injustice: The war Madam (said he unto her) shall quickly end, if you will be pleased to deliver the Princess Mandana: Doubtless (replied she) Mandana will be quickly delivered, if you please; for provided you will become a prisoner in her room, I will engage myself to make Ariantes to deliver her, or else I will do it without him. When you have sent her back into my Camp (replied Cyrus) I do engage myself to come into yours Madam, provided Mandana consent unto it: For I do protest Madam, I would do any thing in the world to procure her liberty and your favour. To procure my favour (answered she, and lessened her tone) you know that the way is not to be Mandana's Lover: For as long as you are (added she, and raised her voice again) She shall be my Prisoner, and I will be revenged upon her for all the injuries you did me, in departing out of my Dominions without my permission. Oh Madam (cried out Cyrus) if you keep Mandana Prisoner only to be revenged upon me, I beseech you deliver her, and I will promise you to punish myself for the crime whereof you accuse me, and of which I cannot repent. At these words, Ariantes accidentally appeared with his Troop, though he had no orders from Thomiris.  
This Princess seeing him before Cyrus did, and not doubting but now Cyrus would be in her Fetters as well as Mandana, she told him, That it was not now a time to talk of Mandana's liberty, but to surrender his Sword, and become her Slave. She had no sooner said these words, but Cyrus and all his company seeing Ariantes and Andramites coming in the head of fifteen or twenty horse, they then gave themselves for lost. In the mean time, Cyrus seeing no delay was expedient, and that he was so far from taking Thomiris, that he was himself in danger to be taken, he took upon the right hand for fear of being compassed about; one passage at this encounter was excellently remarkable, for Cyrus as he parted in an instant from Thomiris, it was in his power to have killed her, & he saw the thing so easy to be done, that it was his virtue only which restrained his arm; he was so absolutely Master of her and himself at this time, that imagining it would be a shame for him to kill a Queen, he used not the least action which might raise suspicion he had any such thought; but on the contrary, as he left her. Learn Madam (said he unto he▪) by the respect I bear unto you, to respect the Princess Mandana, and do to her what is fit, since I do not to you what I could. On the other side, Thomiris who saw that Cyrus by his respect gave her an opportunity to give him a blow, did upon the first brunt of her fury lift up her arm, but a second thought restraining the first, she negligently let fall her Sword, and looked whether Arian●es was coming. In the mean time, this Rival unto Cyrus, seeing that this Prince by reason of his quickness could not be compassed about, he joined his Troop unto that of Thomiris; so that now he overnumbered his Enemy by more than half. 'Tis true, his repugnancy to fight against a Prince unto whom he was obliged, did something lessen his ordinary valour, and made him fall on more faintly. But Thomiris charging her men not to kill Cyrus, but to take him, and promising great rewards if they did take him, she did so encourage them, that the Conqueror of all Asia was never so near taking Prisoner since he was at the Castle of Hermes, as now. But his great heart being bravely seconded by Mazares, Indatherses, Aglatidas, Ligdames, Araspes, Feraulas, and others which followed him, they did so closely unite themselves, and kept a pass in the wood where they could not be compassed about so well, that they stood the first charge of Aria●tes so vigorously, as those who would have broken them were broken themselves So that Cyrus falling violently into the body of his Enemies, he met with Ariantes. As for Thomiris, she only gave orders, and fought not, still chargeing her men continually not to kill Cyrus, but to take him In the mean time, when this Prince was near enough Ariantes to be heard: Oh thou perfidious Anaxaris (said he, and fell upon him) restore me that Princess whom I trusted thee withal: I cannot tell whether Anaxaris will restore her unto you (replied that Prince, and warded the blow which Cyrus made at him) but I am sure Ariantes will not, though he knows he does you wrong, and is ungrateful. After this, these two fierce Enemies talking only with their hands, the combat became hot, and if their numbers had been a little more equal than it was, Cyrus had certainly defeated his Rival, as brave as he was. But since he still retained his judgement, he perceived that if he strive only to vanquish Ariantes, himself would be overcome by his men, and fall into the power of Thomiris: So that after he had very dangerously wounded Ariantes in the left shoulder, and seeing there was no way but to retreat, he disengaged himself from amidst his Enemies, and rallying all his men together, he still retreated fight, and so bravely, that his followers began to faint upon it: For since Ariantes by reason of his wound did not follow, and since Thomiris would not follow any further for fear of an Ambuscado, Cyrus by his wisdom and rare valour made good his retreat; with the loss only of three Cavaliers. In his return he perceived that he had received a flight wound in his right sitle: So that seeing no more Enemies to fight with, he hasted his march that he might be dressed, and came very happily to his Camp, where he was expected with much impatience, and so he left Thomiris in most insufferable despair.   
The End of the Second Book.   

ARTAMENES, OR The Grand CYRUS. The Nineth Part. BOOK. III.  
AS soon as Cyrus was come unto his Tent, he altered the orders which he had given Chrisantes of going to Thomiris, and he took a short account of the state of things whilst his Chirurgeons were sent for, and gave his orders for every thing in so short a time, that he had nothing to do when they came, but to search his wound, which they found to be very slight, and without any danger: But yet they told Cyrus, that it was absolutely necessary for him to keep his bed two days, and to be seven or eight before he ventured on horseback, because his wound being near his hip, it could not close in a short time, unless he gave it rest; adding, that if he did not take that course, it would be in danger of a Gangreen, and make him much worse. At the first, Cyrus would not obey them, thinking seven or eight days, as so many ages; for he knew that as long as he could not stir, his Army could not attempt any thing. Yet at last, considering that their advice in such things was to be followed, he obeyed them; yet he had scarce rested himself two hours, but Adonacris, who stayed in the Tents Royal after Anacharsis returned, and came to give an account of his voyage: Truth is, Cyrus was not hugely hasty to ask him news, considering the tempers he had left Thomiris and Ariantes in: However, he had a desire to know what made him so soon quit the Tents Royal, and what moved Thomiris and Ariantes to go into the woods where he met them, for he knew they could not have any intelligence of his passing over Araxes. So that as soon as Adonacris came to him; I do not ask you generous Adonacris (said he unto him) How you have prevailed with Ariantes; for having talked with him when he had a Sword in his hand, I know what answer he made you: But I ask you, what moved Thomiris to come into the wood on this side the Fort of Sauromates? Sir (replied Adonacris) to satisfy your curiosity, I must tell you of many important passages; and therefore though my negotiation proved ineffectual, yet I beseech you give me leave to acquaint you with what I have done, to the end you may better understand what I have to acquaint you withal: I shall tell you then Sir, since your silence seems to give consent, that true it is, I have not prevailed with Ariantes; yet most certain it is, that once I saw his mind stagger, and when I remembered him of all his obligations to you, I found in him as much shame as love. Yes my dear Adonacris (said he then unto me, when I pressed him very earnestly) all that you tell me is most true, and I must confess that Anaxaris is a base ungrateful and perfidious man, such a one as Cyrus has reason to hate, and that he is equally unworthy, both of the friendship of Cyrus, and of Mandana's love. But Adonacris, though Ariantes had a desire to repair the fault of Anaxaris, that it would be in vain if he should attempt it; for Mandana is so little in his dispose, that Thomiris will hardly suffer him to see her, and therefore he is far from any ability of rendering her unto Cyrus: Therefore, since I should repent in vain, because I cannot release her if I would, I had better not repent at all: Also I am persuaded, that I should ere long repent that ever I repented: And therefore, I beseech you do what you can to make my Rival hate me without scorn, and endeavour to lessen the greatness of my crime, by instancing the greatness of my love.  
After this Sir, I redoubled my reasons and my prayers, and I dare assure you my affection at that time made me say much more than a more able man then myself could have imagined at that time, and upon this occasion. But as I was with this Prince, one came from Thomiris, to acquaint him, that the Prince Phraartes going to see the works at the Fort of Sauromates, did meet with a stranger and fought with him, and that he was mortally wounded as well as his Enemy: So that Phraartes being high in the esteem of Thomiris, she no sooner heard in what condition he was, but she went from the Tents Royal unto the Fort of Sauromates, where they had carried him, because he fought near that place: So that setting out about two hours after Anacharsis, and carrying the Prince Ariantes and Andramites with her, I followed them, hoping that my importunity might happily work with Ariantes.  
Thus I came with them as far as the Fort of Sauromates, where we were no sooner arrived, but Thomiris and Ariantes went to visit Phraartes, whom they found at the last gasp, yet having his intellects perfect, he desired to speak with them in private, and so he did for half an hour: After which, he growing speechless, they left him; but it was very observable, that as soon as they had talked with Phraartes, they consulted a long time together, the mind of Ariantes seeming to be displeased at something. After this, Thomiris left him, and went to see him whom Phraartes had fought with, whom they brought into the same place. So that it is to be imagined this unknown man was some very considerable person: However, I could not know any more of him; all I can tell you is, they are both dead, and the same honours were done unto them. But Sir, to end my relation, Ariantes and Thomiris having a design to engage you amongst those narrow passes which are in the woods about the Fort of the Sauromates, went to view them, and to see where they should place their men, in case you came over Araxes. But since it would be too much to view them all in one day, if they went together, Thomiris and Ariantes took several ways into the woods to view these passes, not knowing that you had passed the river; and those who watched the river, thinking her to be at the Tents Royal, it's probable they sent their intelligence thither; and I can assure you they knew nothing of it at the Fort of the Sauromates, until the return of Thomiris and Ariantes. In the mean time, though Ariantes was wounded, he would needs send news of it unto the Tents Royal, where the body of the Army lay, but he would not let me speak with him: So that I returned to you Sir, very sorry I was not able to do you any better service, no more than the friends of Anabaris, who have all promised me to let slip no opportunity which Fortune shall present unto them, to endeavour the liberty of Mandana. When Adonacris had pronounced these words, one came and told Cyrus, that the man to whom he spoke unto near Araxes, when he returned from seeing Onesile, asked very earnestly to speak with him. So that Cyrus thinking it to be the same man whom he sent to the King of Pontus, to tell him it was better fight on his side, then for the Ravisher of Mandana, he commanded him to enter. So Adonacris being retired, and this man entered, Cyrus asked him, What he had to say from the King his Master? Sir (answered he and sighed) I beseech you pardon me that I cannot conceal my sorrows for the death of a Prince who was your Rival; but what he hath commanded me to tell you, will perhaps render me excusable, and oblige you to lament the misfortune of so great a Prince. How (cried out Cyrus) Is the King of Pontus' dead? Yes Sir, replied he, and died with thoughts very contrary to the Prince who gave him his death. This is such a wonder to me (replied Cyrus) that you must relate the accident with all its circumstances before you can make me believe it: Which to do Sir (answered the man) I must tell you, that after I left you, I went over the River at the next passage, and I was so happy, that the next morning I met with the King my Master, who stayed at the first house to get a horse. But Sir, though I told him all that you charged me withal, and though he was much moved at it, yet he continued his journey three days after; and being told, that the way through the wood was the nearest way to go unto the place where the Army was, he took it, and went unto the Fort of the Saumorats, where enquiring of news in general, he understood that Phraartes (whom he knew at Cumes) was in the Tents Royal; and he heard further, that he was to come that very same day unto the place where we were I cannot tell you Sir the thoughts of this much to be lamented Prince upon this occasion: Ah Fortune, Fortune, cried he out, thou art too fully resolved to persecute me, and my constancy must submit, must I be overwhelmed with so many disgraces all at once? I love, heavens knows, and I am not beloved; I have lost two Kingdoms, and my Enemies possess them; I am obliged unto the Rival who is preferred before me; I do infinitely esteem that Princess who prefers him, and him also as much as she doth; I do hate Ariantes, both as my Rival, as the Ravisher of Mandana, and as my Vanquisher; yet for all this; I am resolved to fight for him, rather than for Cyrus, and to complete all my miseries, I do find the Ravisher of Araminta in this Court: Will honour suffer thee to see a Prince that stole away thy Sister, and not be revenged for that affront? No, no, since thou art not capable of any ill, but what Love forced thee to commit, thou canst never be excused if thou dost.  
After this Sir, this great Prince was silent, and making signs unto me that he would be alone, I retired. But as chance would have it, next to the Tent where I was, there happened to be two strangers, whose language was not unknown unto me, for I had been so long in Pontus and Bythinia, that I very well understood▪ the language which they spoke, it being the same. I heard these two then speak aloud, because they did not think I did understand them; and one of them told the other, that Arsamones would be extremely glad to get Araminta into his power, and that he doubted not but that the Princesses which he would give as Hostages, would shortly bring it to pass: 'Tis true, replied the other, Arsamones would perhaps be glad, but Spitridates would be sorry if he knew it; and I cannot tell whether it be wisdom or no in us thus blindly to serve Arsamones in all his violences, and when the Prince his Son comes to reign, he will make us repent it. After this Sir, these two men changing place, I could not hear any more what they said: However, I thought it fit to let my Master know what I heard, and therefore went to tell him, and he having a longing desire to know more, and not doubting but those I heard talk were his Subjects, he resolved to show himself unto them: And indeed without more consulting with himself, he went out of his Tent, and went to the place where these men were, who were so amazed at the sight of him, that though they saw him in a condition far different from what they had formerly seen him, yet now they trembled, and were infinitely respective to him: He knowing their thoughts by their actions, took advantage of the disorder in their spirits, and spoke with such Majesty, that he obliged them to tell him what they did in that place: So as he understood by them that Arsamones (who heard Phraartes went towards the Massagettes) had sent unto Thomiris, and offered her a very considerable diversion of Ciaxares by a powerful assaulting him, and by raising a party in Assiria, provided she would put Araminta into her power, ingageing himself also to let her marry Phraartes, and offered her for security of this Treaty, to put the Princess his Daughter, and the Princess his Niece into his power, upon condition she would promise also, that if ever Spitridates came into her power, during the Wars she had with Cyrus, she would put him unto his. After this, these two men who were of Heraclea, told him, that Thomiris accepted of the offer, and Phraartes accepted and consented unto it also, thinking he was more sure to marry Araminta in the Court of Arsamones, then in the Court of Thomiris: These men also added, That they came into that Country and stayed in it, to keep things in the same condition they are, and that ere long the Princess of Bythinia, and the Princess Istrina would arrive. Then they said that they came to see this Fort out of curiosity only, and they understood that Phraartes would be there also that day. And indeed Sir, these Subjects unto the King of Pontus told him as much as he desired to know, and when they told him that Phraartes was gone to view the works without, the King of Pontus charged these two men not to tell what he was, and charging them with as much authority as if he were upon the Throne: Afterwards he took horse, none knowing his design. But Sir, not to trouble you with too many impertinencies, he went to the place where they said Phraartes was, yet he did not show himself at first unto him; but as soon as he spied him, he galloped a little into the wood, and gave me a Letter in which he had written something, which he charged me to give Phraartes who was looking upon the workmen; but not to tell him whom he was: I in obedience to my Master carried the Letter, Phraartes read it, than asked me in a low voice who sent it, and where he was? Sir (said I unto him) he is within two hundred paces of this place, but as for his name he hath charged me not to tell it, and I dare not disobey him.  
After this, Phraartes being brave, and his valour a little questioned, he stood no longer in ask the name of him who desired to see him with a Sword in his hand, but thought of contenting this unknown man who demanded satisfaction for a wrong; and imagining (as he said afterwards) that perhaps it was Spitridates, he would not any longer defer the giving him his desired satisfaction: So that sending away all his men upon several pretences, and after he had sent me back to tell my Master that he would be with him presently; he followed me within a quarter of an hour after, and came to the place where I appointed, without any other company but one Page only, and without other arms then a Sword: For my Master, as I understood since, did send him word, that a Sword only should decide their difference. But Sir, he wondered much when he came to the place where his Enemy was, and knew him not, but this wonder was quickly vanished by the entrance of another; for as soon as the King of Pontus saw him, he drew his Sword, and advancing towards him: 'Tis now a fit time to tell you (said he unto him) that I am the Princess Araminta's Brother, and am able to hinder you from putting her into the hands of the Usurper of my Kingdoms. If you be the same you say (replied Phraartes and drew his Sword) you need not complain against a Prince who would take Araminta from Spitridates, whom you love not. 'Tis true, I love him not (replied he) but I do esteem him, which is more than you do. To be a Ravisher away of Mandana as you are (replied Phraartes in a surely manner) you are very sensible of a carrying away. At these words, the King of Pontus with out any answer advanced towards him with incredible fury and valour: Phraartes on his side he fought like a man that was sorry to fight against the Brother of his Mistress; yet his valour being a little clownish, as they who knew him said, he fought with the King of Pontus with as much animosity, as if he had been his Rival: For my part, I was forced to be a Spectator of the Combat, for Phraartes having but one Page with him, I could do no otherwise. But Sir, after a long and sharp dispute, and both mortally wounded in several places, the King of Pontus ran Phraartes through the body, so that he fell from his horse, and let his Sword fall, which the King of Pontus lighting in an instant, seized upon.  
Thus was he the Vanquisher of Phraartes; but he no sooner saw himself victorious, but he fell also within four paces of his Enemy: So that I being forced to make use of the Conquereds' Page to help the Conqueror, I sent him to acquaint them in the Fort with this accident. So that many people coming in, they carried these two wounded persons into the Fort of the Saur●mates, and sent to acquaint Thomiris and Ariantes with the passage. In the mean time, though a Chirurgeon said my Master's wounds were mortal as well as Phraartes, yet I told not who he was, lest they should arrest me, and hasten his death by that violence. But when Thomiris and Ariantes came, I understood that Phraartes told them, and desired them to promise they would hold on the Treaty with Arsamones, to the end that Araminta being once in his power, she might never marry Spitridates. But Sir, as soon as Phraartes had made this unjust desire unto Thomirs and Ariantes, he lost his speech, and a little after his life. In the mean time, Thomiris knowing from Phraartes the quality of my Master, she came to see him, followed only by one man of quality, called Andramites: As for Ariant●s, it is to be imagined, that he would not visit his Rival: But Sir, this miserable Prince, into whose mind the approaches of death had infused more just thoughts both of youSir, and Mandana, he used such moving arguments to oblige that Queen to restore the Princess unto you Sir, and to persuade Ariant●s unto a repentance of his violence, that should I relate them to you Sir, you would be charmed with his virtue: yet for all this, I plainly see Sir, that Thomiris will not be persuaded; nor stayed she long with him, but though an enemy, yet she promised to have a care of him. I have so small a share in life (said he unto her) that I will not ask you Madam, any thing for myself; no not so much as a Tomb, for I do not desire to eternize the memory of my miseries. But Madam, (said he and sighed) I beg all things of you for Mandana: After this, Th●miris going out, without any direct answer, and this miserable King perceiving he could not live long, commanded me to let the Princess Mandana know, as soon as I could, that he repented of his violence to her, though he could never repent of loving her, and conjured her, not to hate his memory. As for you Sir, he charged me to tell you, that he was extremely sorry he died ungrateful, and that he could not choose but die your Rival: and desired you to have a care of the Princess Araminta; also to tell you, that he would die the friend of Spitridates, and commanded me to tell him as much. After this Sir, his reason beginning to rove, he spent the whole night in talking continually of Mandana, but without any cause or moving thereunto; afterwards growing weak upon a sudden, he died about break of day: and thus both Conquered and Conqueror died almost ot one munit: and after their deaths they received the same honours by order from Thomiris.  
In the mean time, that Princess being upon the place, she would needs go and view the woods about the Fort, before she returned: and in the m●an time, and whilst you Sir, was fight with Ariantes, a servant unto Andramites, whom he had left there upon some business, came and addressed himself unto me out of curiosity to know who it was I so much greeved for his death: For Sir, I forgot to tell you, that Thomiris did not publish his quality after his death, and I imagine her reason for it was, because the news of the King of Pontus his death should not be carried unto the Princess his Sister, before she returned to the Tents Royal; But Sir, as soon as this servant unto Andramites had accosted me, we knew each other, and remembered that we bore Arms together at the Sieg of Ephesus, when the Prince Artamas, went under the name of Cleand●r: So that embracing each other with joy, we began to relate our adventures, and to renew our old friendship which formerly was very great: But to tie the knot more fast between us; he imparted unto me his intententions of serving you Sir, and I told him also who was my master, and what he had charged me to tell you, upon his death bed: So that encouraging each other in our intentions of repairing the faults we had committed against you, and of doing you some considerable service, we walked together about the Fort; and observed that at the place which is not yet finished, it is so easily to be surprised, that with five hundred men only, one may become Master of it: So then wishing earnestly that you had passed over the River Araxes, to attempt this enterprise, we thought our wishes had been in vain, because we then knew not that you had already passed it. But Sir, when Thomiris and Ariantes returned wounded we quickly understood that you were nearer than we imagined. So that now this servant of Andramites and I, looking upon this business as a thing very feasable, we carefully examined the matter again: and to facilitate our design, Thomiris and Ariantes departing, Andramites, as good luck was, did leave this servant in the Fort, by orders from Ariantes, with orders to come and acquaint them when it was finished: and he left him there also as a Surveyor over the workmen; for this man the better to further ●his design, had so insinuated with his Master, that he made him believe he had served the Prince of Cumes, in the Fortifications of his Town, and that he understood the art of it as well as any man: Then Sir, after the departure of Thomir and Ariant●s, this man and I considering the Situation and present condition of the place, we resolved, that I should come and acquaint you, how, if you would be plea●ed to send five hund●ed men speedily, by such a way as a guide I have provided will show you, you may presently become Master of it: But Sir, this must be done presently, for it is reporte●, that as soon as Thomiris is returned to the Tents Royal, and hath taken all orders for the security of t●e Princess Mandana, and for the departure of Araminta, whom she will send unto Arsamones as soon as the two Hostage Princess are come, she will then return with her whole Army to make good the passes which he hath viewed, and to engage you to fight in a place which will be very disadvantageous to you. Therefore Sir, haste must be made, and no greater number must be employed than I mentioned, lest the Fort should have intelligence. You tell me so many strange things at once (said Cyrus) that I know not which to answer first; yet I must tell you, that I do much lament the pitiful fate of the Pontean King, I do commend your fidelity to him, and I will recompense your zeal to me.  
After this, Cyrus enquiring of him the true state of the place, he found him talk so pertinently, that he saw there was great probability of doing some good in the design, so it were speedily executed; and he sent for Mazares and Indatherses only to confer with them about it, having no mind to impart it unto a Council of War, lest it should be known. So having broke it unto them, and told them that he thought it worth the hazard of five hundred men, they concurred with him in opinion: So that Cyrus making choice of Feraulas for this bold attempt, he sent for him; and afterwards he called out the Troops which he was to command, and giving him all necessary instructions, it was resolved he should set out in the beginning of the night, and when he was near the Fort to make a sign by fire, which would advertise the servant of Andramites of their being there, and he according to agreement would answer them by another, and let them precisely know the place where they were to surprise the Fort; and in order to all these resolutions, those Troops which Cyrus made choice of to be under the command of Feraulas, departed in the beginning of the night, guided by the man whom the King of Pontus his servant had provided. But after they were gone, Cyrus began with leisure to consider the lamentable death of the Pontean King, and to deplore the misfortune of a Prince whom Fate had strangely persecuted all his life long. Afterwards calling to memory the death of the Assyrian King, he was full of compassion for these two illustrious Rivals, as he was of amity to Mazares. So that contracting all the hatred he ever bore unto them against Ariantes, he hated him alone as much as ever he did them all together; yet it was such a hatred as was accompanied with esteem for all the high acts he had done at Sardis, and at Cumes: But the greatest grief of Cyrus was, that he was not to stir yet for some certain days; but in the mean time he gave orders for every thing, and saw all those who had any thing to say unto him: 'Tis true, the desire he had to hear the success of this enterprise did take up much of his mind, so as it was not entirely at liberty; yet he talked unto all his friends, as if his soul had no extraordinary cares upon it, and to inquire very obligingly of all their interests: He asked Artamas how Palmis did; Agla●idas of Amestris; and Ligdamis of Cleonice: But as for Intaphernes, he would never acquaint him with the Treaty between Arsamones and Thomiris, because it should not grieve him: And he commanded all the Officers whose Quarters were near Araxes, that if they met with any Cavalry conducting Ladies, that they should use them respectively, and bring them to his Camp: Truth is, Intaphernes was not long in this ignorance; for being one morning at that Bridge of Boats which Cyrus had made over Araxes, to view some Troops pass which were newly come, and which Ciaxares had sent unto Cyrus, he espied the Prince Atergatis, and as soon as ever he saw him he went to him, and without lighting from his horse, because the place would not permit it, they shaked hands, and confirmed their friendship: But having many questions to ask each other, they went further from the Press; and Intaphernes finding much melancholy in the eyes of his friend, his heart began to fear, and he had a great mind to ask how the Princess of Bythinia did, but he durst not; yet being able to hold no longer: Well my dear Atergatis (said he unto him) Are you banished from Arsamones for doing me any good offices unto the Princess his Daughter? Alas, alas, (replied Atergatis and sighed) You would much wonder did you know the cause of my journey, and you would both wonder and grieve if you knew that the Princess of Bythinia, and the Princess Istrina, are either now in the power of Thomiris, or will be very shortly, and that the Princess Araminta will be shortly in the power of Arsamones: How's this (cried out Intaphernes) Can there be any truth in this you tell me? For heaven's sake tell me, how comes this sad adventure to pass? After this, Atergatis told him as much as Cyrus knew concerning it; to wit, the Treaty between Thomiris and Arsamones. But (said Intaphernes unto him) How could you suffer such an unjust thing without opposition? Had I known it, I should have thwarted it, replied Atergatis, but Arsamones did negotiate the business so secretly, as all was concluded before I knew any thing, and to prevent any obstacle in the departure of the Princesses, he sent me to Heraclea whilst he shipped them for Chrisipalis, to send them unto Thomiris. But as soon as the Princesses knew their design, they were so sad at it, that moving the heart of one in the Ship to pity them, he promised to come and acquaint me as soon as the Ship came to Land; and the next morning the Ship came ashore, because the Princess of Bythinia desired to send and offer a Sacrifice at a Temple which was by the Sea side, and this man came then out of the Ship and never returned, but come immediately to me, and acquainted me in few words with all the passage: So that conceiving I could not possible overtake the Princesses, nor aught to return unto Arsamones, nor stay about that business he had employed me, I came in all haste unto you, and about three days march hence, I met these Troops with whom I came: But in my way I understood that the Princess are carried by away far off, to the end they might shun the Camp of Cyrus, when they passed over Araxes.  
Intaphernes hearing this sad news, was all sorrow: But at last he told Atergatis, that hoping well in the valour of Cyrus, who in delivering Mandana, would deliver these Princesses also, he prepared to carry him into his Tent, after he had sent to advertise him of his intentions: So as Cyrus not being ignorant of his name and quality, nor of his merit and adventures, nor of the friendship which was between Intaphernes and him, he received him with all possible civility: But when Intaphernes would have acquainted him with the Treaty which Arsamones had made, he stopped him, and said he was not ignorant of, but kept it secret, because he desired to save him some sighs; adding, that as soon as ever he heard of it, he gave orders to all his Officers, that if they met with any Ladies to respect them, and bring them to his Camp. After which, these two Lovers being both satisfied with the cares of Cyrus, they thanked him with equal civility: Atergatis for his particular did it with so good a grace, that Cyrus saw he merited that excellent Character which he who related his history had given of him. But to begin their friendship by a confidence, they condoled their misfortunes together, and Cyrus made such a pathetical abridgement of all his miseries unto these two Lovers, that he suspended their sorrows for their own, because they found his case worse than their own. For truly (said he unto them) you have no Rivals who hold your Mistresses Captive, and Thomiris hath no interest to treat them ill: But as for Mandana, she is under the power of a Lover, and under the power of a Queen, who thinks she has reason to hold her from me. In the mean time, Cyrus' understanding more precisely the way which these two Princesses would take in coming from Bythinia, he commanded several Parties to scout about the River Araxes, as far as there was any hopes of meeting with them, or at least the Princess Araminta, whom Thomiris was to send unto Arsamones, when the other Princesses came unto her; and he imagined that She would send her with the same Convoy, and by the same way. So that Intaphernes and Atergatis having a great desire to go themselves in person, Cyrus considering their interest, permitted them, telling them most obligingly, that he was very sorry he could not go himself, and help them to deliver their Princess, as he hoped they would help him to deliver Mandana. In the mean time, Anacharsis being charmed with the virtue of Cyrus, did visit him very often, telling every one he spoke unto, that hitherto he had learned to talk of wisdom, but by the actions of Cyrus he would learn to practise it. This Prince also for his part did find such a real sincerity in the conversation of this Sage Scithean, as did infinitely please him; and such a grandeur of thought, as did much move his inclination. Also the discourse of Anacharsis did much help to drive away his melancholy and sorrows that he was not able to act, and made him expect with much less impatiency the success of his enterprise. But at last, better news came then he durst hope for, and that Guard of Mandana's, who was become Andramites servant, also who had plotted the business, came to beg his pardon, and told Cyrus that his enterprise was effected, and that he was Master of the Fort; and to particularise this great attempt, he told him that Feraulas conducted by the King of Ponts man, did march so fast and happily, that those within the Fort had not the least knowledge of his coming, and that the sign by fire was so well given and taken, and the assault so surprised the Garrison, that they were damped with fear, and cut in pieces.  
Moreover, that Feraulas after he was Master of the place, had so encouraged the workmen, and promised such great recompenses unto them if they finished the work, that those men having heard of Cyrus and his liberality, did fall on work, and promised to finish it within two days. This great and good news infused as much joy into this Prince, as if he had been in a condition to advance with all his Army. But besides that his wounds would not give him leave, another accident fell out which hindered him from thinking of it; which was, That the river Araxes by reason of great winds which tossed the water, had broken his Bridge, and the current of the river was so impetuous, that most of the Boats were broken, and shattered in pieces one against another. So that since the Army of Cyrus could get no subsistence but from the other side of the River, his whole care was to repair the Bridge, that he might send over victual and ammunition to his Army: All they could do, the Bridge being broken, was to send over every day as much as those Boats which remained could carry, to make them subsist. Thus Cyrus was of necessity forced to wait and attempt nothing till he could get on horseback, and until the Bridge was made again, and also till victual and ammunition necessary for his march was passed over. In the mean time he took incredible pains to repair the bridge, and sent him who brought the news of the Fort being taken, to tell Feraulas, that if he were assaulted to defend himself, in hopes of a speedy relief: But after he had kept his bed four days, the Chirurgeons permitted him to rise, so he would not go out of his Tent of four or five days more. So that being one morning with Mazares, Artamas, and Myrsiles, one came to tell him that the Prince Intaphernes, and the Prince Atergatis were coming, and that they brought some Ladies with them. This news did extremely surprise Cyrus, yet upon better thoughts he imagined, that perhaps they had met with their Princesses, and got them out of the hands of those who would have carried them unto Thomiris: So that hearing those two Princes desired leave to bring those two Ladies unto him, he was well contented. But this Prince was much surprised when Intaphernes and Atergatis brought in the Princess Araminta and Hesionide, in lieu of the Princess of Bythinia and Istrina, whom he expected. 'Tis true, he saw her so sad, that thinking she knew of the King her Brother's death, he durst not express any joys, nor begin to treat her as Queen; and beginning to think that Mandana had lost a great comfort in losing the company of this Princess, he could not retain his first joys of seeing her, but he let her see by his eyes, that he would perform all he had promised: Yet this Princess having as much judgement as spirit, did think Cyrus would be much troubled to tell her of the King her Brother's death, she resolved to speak unto him first; and indeed she was no sooner come into his Tent, at the entrance into which he received her, but beginning to speak first: Give me leave to tell you Sir (said she unto him) in justification of that sorrow which sirs upon my cheeks, that though I have reason to rejoice of my liberty, and at the honour of seeing you, yet my Brother's death is the cause of my sorrow; and to justify his memory, I must acquaint you, how I understand from Thomiris, that he repented of all his violences unto the Princess Mandana, and though he have perhaps merited no pity from you, yet he has merited your permission to let me lament him: I have done it myself Madam (replied Cyrus) and have extremely pitied the sad destiny of so great a Prince; and I thank the Gods with all my heart, that though he hath been my Rival and my Enemy, yet that you Madam cannot charge me with his death: And I assure you Madam, that if I could revive him, though with the same Love unto the Princess Mandana, yet I should joyfully do it to cease your sorrows, and stop your tears. But Madam (said he, being forced by the violence of his love) Why did you not bring the Princess Mandana with you? That I might have been obliged unto the Prince Intaphernes, and the Prince Atergatis for delivering her, as I am for setting you at liberty: Alas Sir (replied she) I need not answer this question; but after I have commended your generosity in lamenting the death of your Enemy, I must tell you, that the Princess Mandana is now guarded with so much exactness, that there is no delivering her but by the overthrow of Thomiris, yet she is waited upon with much respect, and she knows so well how to make her Ravishers fear her, that the Prince Ariantes trembles as oft as he comes near her, and speaks unto her as humbly as if she were not in his power. But Sir (pursued she) the news of taking the Fort of Sauromates hath extremely amazed the Queen of Massagettes, and if the Prince Ariantes had not been wounded, it had been ere now besieged; but that Prince being unable to act; by reason of his wounds, I believe the design is deferred for some certain days: After this Sir, I must needs (maugre my sorrow) tell you of the Prince Intaphernes, and the Prince Atergatis their generosity, who knowing that those who conducted me were carrying me unto Arsamones (a mortal Enemy unto the King my Brother) did fight them, and brought me unto you Sir: When you know them well, replied Cyrus, you will find that you are more obliged unto them, than you imagine; for as you are a Debtor unto them for your liberty, so are you unto the Prince Atergatis, for the liberty of Spitridates: When one hath done no more than what was their duty to be done (replied that Prince) there is no obligations owing; and by the same reason (added Intaphernes) I do declare, that since I have done no more than what I ought to have done, I cannot pretend unto any right of obligation: However it be (said Cyrus) you will give us leave to think what we please. But Madam (added he) I can stay no longer before I tell you, that we expect the Prince Spitridates his being here very shortly: Do you know Sir, replied Araminta, and both blushed and sighed) where that unfortunate Prince is? I do not directly know in what place he is Madam (replied Cyrus) I know he will arrive here ere long, and that he was at a Port in Cholcides, when the Prince Tigranes did write unto the Princess Onesile, and so I know he will ere long have the happiness of seeing you. After this Sir, Cyrus asked Intaphernes and Atergatis, in what place they met this Princess: And after they answered, that they found her as she was passing over the river, he asked Araminta whether the two Princesses which Arsamones gave as Hostages unto Thomiris, were come or no? To which she answered, as she had before Intaphernes and Atergatis, that they arrived the day before she came away, and that she was extremely sorry she could not obtain so much leave as to see the Princess of Bythinia, whom she had long loved. After this, Cyrus told her, that though the unfortunate King her Brother had only left her the Title of a Queen, yet he would treat her as Queen in possession of those two Kingdoms which he had lost: For Madam (said he unto her) I know that the Prince Spitridates will restore them to you, and I am sure he will never enjoy the usurpation of Arsamones; but as soon as he comes here, will treat you as Queen of Pontus, though his Father possess the Kingdom. And Madam, if it be the pleasure of fortune that I shall deliver Mandana, Arsamones shall render Justice unto such as it is due unto. Araminta charmed with the civility of Cyrus, did answer him with as much generosity and spirit, and with as much sorrow as generosity.  
After which, Cyrus ordered that she should be waited upon unto a stately Tent, and to stay there until Boats were ready to convey her unto the Town where Onesile was, where she might be more conveniently and safe. At the first, though Araminta did infinitely esteem that Princess, yet when it was proposed to be with her, she could hardly consent unto it, because she was Sister in Law unto Phraartes; but Cyrus satisfying her that this Princess did highly condemn the violence of Phraartes, and that Tigranes was a dear friend unto Spitridates, and a great Enemy unto his Brother for carrying her away, she was well contented to be with her: Also she seeing but two ways to choose, either to stay in an Army, or to stay with a most virtuous Princess, she quickly resolved with herself, and was conducted by Chrisantes unto her the day following: Cyrus first sending to acquaint Onesile with the King of Pontus his death, and with the death of Phraartes, also with the arrival of Araminta, to the end she might know how she ought to receive her.  
The meeting of these two Princesses was very tender, and they spoke so excellently unto each other, as it was most evident they had both of them as much judgement as spirit, and as much virtue as judgement. In the mean time, the Bridge being repaired, and Cyrus being ready to go out of his Tent, he resolved to pass over with all possible speed all such provisions as were requisite during his march, and to disencamp as soon as they were over, giving several orders for a continual supply of subsistence for his Army. So that being to depart within two days, he resolved to employ one of them upon a Visit unto the Queen of Pontus, and to bid adieu unto the Princess of Armenia. Since Cyrus loved the company of Anacharsis very well, he obliged him unto this visit with him. So that Cyrus setting out betimes in the morning, accompanied with that renowned Scithean, Indatherses, Araspes, Ligdamis, Aglatidas, Menesiphiles, and Chersias, it was early when he arrived. Since Araminta was in mourning, and moreover since he would treat her as a Queen, he went first unto her, and afterwards unto the Princess Onesile. But he took no notice at his entrance, that Anacharsis did not follow him, but stayed at the bottom of the stairs with a stranger: 'Tis true, as soon as he was in Araminta's Chamber, he miss him, and asked for him: But Chersias telling him that he stayed with a man who seemed to have much business with him, he went on with his visit, and did engage himself so deep in talk of Mandana with Araminta, that he forgot Anacharsis; for since she had so lately seen his Princess, he could talk of nothing else; and it was so great a pleasure to him to talk with one who had so lately seen and spoke with her, that he never thought of his going unto Onesile: yet at last he left her, and went unto the Princess of Armenia, and in passing from one Chamber to another, he saw a man of a handsome presence who seemed to be a Grecian, walking in the outer Chamber with Anacharsis, and who no sooner saw Menesiphiles, but he came unto him; yet Cyrus being near Onesiles Chamber, he entered without staying, his mind being so full of Mandana, that he would not interrupt his own thoughts by ask Anacharsis why he did not follow him: But when he was in the midst of Onesiles outer Chamber, Anacharsis overtook him, and beseeched him to let a friend of Solons, of Menesiphiles, and his (whose name was Silamis) have the honour to kiss his hand: So that Cyrus staying, and the Grecian being near him, he saluted him very civilly, and told him, That since it was impossible to be a friend unto so many rare men, unless himself were excellently accomplished, he was very desirous to be acquainted with him. After which, ask him what was the cause of his voyage, Silamis answered, That having several reasons to be absent from Athens, he resolved for Asia, and to come unto Artaxates to see Onesile, unto whom he had the honour to be allied: And Solon having obliged him to see Anacharsis, who he knew came unto Asia with Menesiphiles, Diocles, and Chersias, and to tell him from Solon, that he had good reason to say as heretofore he did, when he composed his Laws; and he was very glad to hear from the Princess of Armenia, that this Sage Scithean was in the Army: Did I not fear, said Cyrus; That I make this Princess stay too long, I should entreat you to tell me what it was which Anacharsis said unto Solon; for certainly since he thinks it worthy of his memory, so long it is something that is worthy the knowing: It is so Sir (replied Silamis) And since he said it, all the world makes use of it, when they talk upon the same subject. What I then said was yet so simple, replied Anacharsis, that it does not deserve the honour of remembrance: Since the Princess of Armenia is a Lady of an admirable wit, replied Cyrus, and began to walk, she shall be judge, and I will entreat Salamis to tell it in her presence: And indeed after Cyrus had saluted that Princess, after he had presented Anacharsis unto her, and told her of Silamis, whom she said came the day before, he beseeched her to judge whether Solon and all the accomplished men of Athens, had reason to remember some words which Anacharsis had spoken unto that wise Legislator when he was at that famous City. The Athenians (replied Onesile) have a reputation of such excellent wit, as it is to be believed, that whatsoever they think worthy of remembrance, certainly does merit to be so by all the world.  
After this, Cyrus turning towards Anacharsis, pressed him to tell what it was he said to Solon: Truly Sir, said he unto him, What I then said unto him, seemed then so unreasonable, that there must needs happen some great change before he could change his opinion; Such a change hath happened at Athens, replied Silamis, that you need not wonder he should change his opinion, & that he should see that you knew better than he did the nature of the people, whom he pretended to govern by the sole authority of his Laws: Truth is Sir, replied Anacharsis then, that seeing what the manners of the Athenians were, and also considering all the men in general, I thought it strange, that a man so wise as Solon, who well enough knew the impetuosity of all passions which disorder the lives of men, and who also knew how audacious and stupid the multitude is, that he should pretend to establish order amongst so great a people, and to make Concord and Virtue reign amongst them only by his Laws: So that when he alleged unto me his Laws, as remedies against all the evils of his Country. Ah Solon (said I, and looked earnestly upon him) Laws are but ingenious Nets which catch the little flies, and let the great ones escape, being easily broken by force: So that I do foresee by all the certain conjectures that Science can give, that weak ones only observe Laws, and strong ones break them, and at last bring them unto such a contemptible condition as they are kept by none, unless the Law of Arms, and fear compel them to be observed more than Justice can. I wonder not at all, said Cyrus, that these words should be remembered, and as for my part I shall never forget them. Doubtless, said the Princess Onesile, they are most worthy to be remembered, And the more, replied Silamis, because the event doth show that Anacharsis was in the right: For truly the Laws of Solon were very ill observed in his absence, and since his return, things are grown into such disorder, the Pisistratres who was only a Citizen of Athen, is at this day the Master of it. Then is he not the friend of Solon (replied Anacharsis.) Pardon me Sir (replied Silamis) But I cannot tell whether Solon be his or no, though he see him sometimes, and give him counsel. This seems to me, replied Onesile, very strange news, that Athens should not be free: And to me more strange (replied Cyrus, that Pisistrates should subject it: For when I knew him at Athens, he was of such an humour, that I could not think him a man so much applied unto business, as to bring about so great a design, for when I saw him, he was wholly devoted unto pleasures: 'Tis true, I stayed but a while at Athens, and so am not able to judge rightly of him: Sir (replied Silamis) Pisistrates cannot be so easily known as another man may, for certainly it may most truly be said of him, that he is three or four several different men. However, though those who are most zealous for liberty do call him the Tyrant of Athens, yet I must needs affirm him to be a man of as much merit as any in the world; and since the Commonwealth hath lost her liberty, it is advantageous unto it, to be subject unto Pisistrates, whose life is such a miscellaneous mystery, that one may make several relations of him, all true, and yet not resemble one another: For he who will relate only the actions of his valour, will give an Idea of Valour itself: To report all his intrigues and factions he hath been in, is to make a description of a turbulent, unquiet, and ambitious man: To relate his sweetness, his sincerity, his generosity, his liberality, and his magnificence, is to make the picture of a true man of Honour; and to tell of his Loves and Gallantries, is to make a model of a most pleasing Lover, and great Gallant.  
This Character of Pisistrates, replied Onesile, fills me full of curiosity to know all his adventures: Silamis is so well acquainted with them, replied Menesiphiles; that he knows them as well as Pisistrates himself. Since so (said Cyrus) I shall entreat him, as he desires me to be his friend, so that he will relate it unto the Princess of Armenia: Sir, since Fame long since did wholly devote me yours, replied Silamis, you may command me any thing: Since I use only entreaties to my friends, answered Cyrus, I shall not command you, but I shall entreat you in the name of the Armenian Princess, to relate the life of Pisistrates. But since it is likely that the wise Anacharsis would think his time ill spent, in hearing a history of Love, I will advise him to go and visit the Queen of Pontus.  
At first Anacharsis would not go, saying, That whatsoever was worthy the ear of Cyrus, was worthy to be harkened unto by all the world. But Silamis having given him a Letter from Solon which he longed to read again, because he read it hastily before, he was not sorry for having that pretence of going out. So that obeying Cyrus, he retired. And as soon as he was gone, Onesile solicited Silamis to keep his word, and Cyrus pressing him also, he prepared himself to satisfy their curiosities: And after he had a while recollected his memory, and digested into a method what he was to say, he began his relation in this manner, speaking unto Onesile by the order of Cyrus.  

The History of PISISTRATES.  
SInce I know Madam, that I speak unto one who does not only know the passages of that Country where she lives, but also knows as much as is requisite for any great Princess, I shall omit many things in my relation which I should have inserted, had I spoken unto a person ignorant in the affairs of Greece. Also since it is the History of Pisistrates which I am to relate, and not the history of Athens, I need not insist long upon the General Affairs of our Commonwealth, but shall only say what it pertinent unto Pisistrates. But Madam, since Noble Birth is a great advantage when virtue adorns it with its lustre, I must tell you, that his is as worthy of him, as he is of them from whom he is descended, for he comes from the right line of one of the Sons of Ajax, called Philaeus, who was a Citizen of Athens with his Brother named Eurisaces, who gave the Isle of Salamine unto the Athenians. And I can assure you, that his heart is higher than his birth, and there are few men in all Greece of greater qualities than he. As for his person, it did infinitely please, and he had all the features of a sweet face: 'Tis true, his Nose was a little with the biggest, and raised in the middle, but no more than was an ornament; and certain it is, 〈◊〉 could not have a more Noble and finer Air than Pisistrates had, especially when he was not in his negligent garb, or on one of those days when he was so different from himself, that one could hardly know him; and then, when he was in one of those melancholy and sluggish humours, he would not be only negligent in his habit, but also seemed to be another man, his hair which was fair seemed brown, and not curled; his making which was handsome, was less pleasing, and there was such a strange carelessness in every part of his person, as one would have said his spirit was no more in his body, than he was Pisistrates. But on one of those days when he was himself, a man of a more high carriage, and more noble and sweet air, could not be seen. Moreover Madam, he was not only wont to be different from himself, at some certain times and days, but also his very heart was full of contrarieties, and opposite inclinations; for he would be merry, and he would be melancholy, and he was of a hot temper, though he loved idleness. Moreover, it must needs be said in his commendations, that he had wit in abundance, a wit in fashion, a cultivated wit; but it must be said also, That though he was of a sluggish humour, yet he was the most active man alive, when the fancy took him, for he was able to turn the whole course of his life, to sleep when he should wake, and to wake when he should sleep, yet naturally he loved rest; and when he took it, he took it with more tranquillity than another; yet this love of rest was no hindrance, but he could easily throw himself into the tumult of business, and he had such a delicate and sharp spirit, that he could not endure the Government of any one, but would be continually complaining against those who had the administration of affairs whatsoever they were: So that though he had the public good for his object, and though his own intentions were very good, yet sometimes he would act as if they were not, and be conversant with such as were the most turbulent fellows in the Commonwealth: Yet for all this, he loved all manner of pleasures, not only those of a high and Noble strain, but also the most rustic and childish: It pleased him extremely to see Shepherds dance after a shawm, under a shadow in a green Meadow; he would play for pins with a boy, and rather than fail, divert himself with the meanest things. Moreover, custom was so prevalent with him, that sometimes it held the place of reason, merit, and beauty: And indeed, he did so accustom himself unto the places where he dwelled, to the streets he walked, to the houses he went unto, to the Porters who opened the Gates, to the Slaves he met, and to the persons he did visit, more than ever any man did accustom himself: And this custom was so strong in him, that some ugly eyes which he hath accustomed himself to look upon, hath pleased him better than the fairest eyes in the world which he seldom sees, and is out of the Quarters he uses to inhabit; yet sometimes he would be very variable in his pleasures, sometimes limming would be his predominate fancy, and he did nothing else but go from Painter to Painter, from Closet to Closet, and to discourse of that Art: Otherwhiles Music would have its turn, and he would wholly devote himself unto harmony; another while dancing was all his fancy, and his imagination was filled with Balls and meetings: Then again, he would be in Love with Books, and Poetry was his Mistress, and he had such an excellent memory, that he was able to quote all that was excellent in any Author he had read.  
Thus passing from one passion to another, Solon told him one day merrily, in chiding him for his inconstancy, that he had loved all the Muses one after another, even from Melpomene unto Ptersichore. Moreover Madam, Pisistrates was not only a Lover of Verse, but also he composed them most excellently and gallantly, Solon himself applauded him; but the most commendable quality in Pisistrates was, that he was as good, as zealous, and as faithful a friend as ever any could be, he was magnificent and liberal, he was brave and generous, and though he was more ambitious than he thought himself, yet he had an uninterested soul; and the greatest fault that could be laid in the dish of Pisistrates was, that he was too much wedded to his own opinions, and to believe too easily, that whatsoever he thought, would happen as he did imagine it. Moreover, Pisistrates had one quality which I forgot to mention, which was, that when he was accustomed unto any one, absence could never unaccustome him, and though he had not seen one of his friends for ten years, yet whensoever fortune brought them together, he would speak to them with as much familiarity, as if he had seen them every day, and would talk of things past, as if he could not live without them; yet for all this, he could be long without seeing or sorrowing for them; So I think, that I had reason to say at the beginning of my discourse, that there was a hundred things in his humour, and way which seemed to be incompatible. And yet for all that, he was a most excellent complete man; and I am confident Madam, that after this description of Pisistrates, you will wonder he should ever think of making himself Lord of Athens, since it is not likely a man so much devoted to pleasures, of an unbiased soul, one who loved Solon so well, should 〈…〉 of usurping Sovereign Authority. But Madam, when I have related his adven 〈…〉 will wonder much more, and admire how one heart could contain so much amb 〈…〉 so much love. I shall not trouble you Madam, with relating the beginnings of Pi 〈…〉 his life, though they were with much glory; for he did signalise himself at the enterprise of Salamine, and did many other Noble Acts: But let me in few words tell you 〈◊〉 that at seventeen years of age his Father forced him to marry, and within three years after his Wife died.  
This Marriage being made by force without love, and only an act of obedience unto his Father, no passages happened whilst it lasted worthy to be related unto you. But Madam, after he had sacrificed his liberty this first time unto his family, he would sacrifice it unto himself the second time, as you shall know by the sequel of the story; yet it's fit you know, that his Mother and Solons being near Cousins, he received the Sapient Documents of this famous man even from his very cradle, yet this was no hindrance unto his matter of Gallantry: For besides that, Solon was no Enemy unto love, he affected and desired that the youth of Athens might more set their minds upon matters of Gallantry; then matters of ambition, and it would more conduce to the liberty of his Country: For truly (said he one day unto Thales when he was in our City) as long as Pisistrates, and all the rest of his volley are Slaves unto our Beauties, they will never think of making us theirs. So that Madam, Pisistrates being naturally gallant, and not being restrained from it any manner of way, no not by the Counsels of a man whom he thought (and with reason) to be Sovereignly wise, he devoted himself wholly unto pleasures, and laid hold upon every occasion of diverting both himself and others: 'Tis true, there were some that said, that at that time he thought upon making himself Lord of Athens, and that he carried it so only to colour his designs: But Pisistrates himself said, that Fortune brought him to that height he was by her own fancy, without any long premeditation. However it were, Pisistrates was no sooner absolute Master of himself, but he seemed to think upon nothing but passing away his time merrily; and certainly he was in a place the fittest in the world for it: For Madam, though commonly the Courts of great Kings are more proper for great diversions, than Republics are, because the Palaces of Princes does more invite men of admirable parts, than they can be in a place where the power is divided; yet I assure you, Athens was then in so high a lustre, that there were few places in the world where one could more fully divert themselves: For besides, that the business of whole Greece was done at Athens, which caused a huge concourse of strangers, there was also by a favourable constellation abundance of most lovely women, and so many wits of both Sexes at that time, as if the Gods had sent them all at once to honour our Country: Also peace and tranquillity looked as if it would last for ever. The Laws of Solon were then religiously observed, though there happened some disorder in his absence; peace, plenty and abundance flourished then in Athens more than in any place of the world; yet the Cylonian Conspiracy, which made such a ring in the world, had yet left some sparks in the embers, and served for a pretence of all our divisions: Not that by reason of all the past divisions there was not any disposition to any new ones in the minds of most men; but since it was lately since the first disorders were appeased, there was so great a calm in appearance, as put all those who loved quietness in hopes that it would last long: So that now nothing was feared but that sleeping peace would rust us: But amongst the youngsters of highest rank, Pisistrates was the most considerable: Lycurgus and Theocrites who were men of the first form, and sons unto one called Aristalas, were also in high esteem, though of different humours; and there was another, whose name was Ariston, who was infinitely pleasing. As for the Ladies, amongst that multitude of ornaments unto our City, Cleorante who was Daughter unto a man very considerable in Athens called Megacles, held the first rank as well as Cerinthe, daughter unto Philombrotus, and Euridamia, the Kinswoman of Solon. But Madam, I beseech you, give me leave to let you know them according to the order, as Pisistrates came to know them, and in order to that, I must tell you, that though our City was under the protection of Minerva, yet she held Cere● in particular veneration; and indeed, she had a very famous Temple in Athens; and every year there was celebrated two Feasts unto her honour, which we called Thesmophoria, where women are the principal actors of the ceremony: For besides several other austerities, they would watch nine nights together in the Temple of this Goddess, and in honour of Ceres, they would there be dressed as if they were going to a Ball: So that this Temple being very beautiful and enlightened with a thousand Lamps, it was a most glorious sight to view these Ladies when they watched nine nights until after midnight; and there was not a man of any quality but he was there; men of age came only to honour the Goddess, and the young men came more in devotion to the Ladies then to Ceres. One of these nights then, Pisistrates, unto whom I was a piece of a friend, made a motion to go thither, and I having nothing else to do, went with him: Pisistrates than had no particular Engagement upon him more than I had. But as soon as we had placed ourselves by chance, more than out of any affected choice, the lovely Cerinthe, Daughter of Philombrotus, who followed her mother, came and sat next us, and was so very pleasant, that though she spoke not unto us, yet she seemed by the air wherewith she received our salute, that she was not sorry we were so near her: For Madam, you must know, there was not any person in the world who had such significant actions as she; and indeed with a wink of her eye, a nod of her head, or sign with her hand, she could commend or dispraise, and make others understand a thousand several things. Moreover, Cerinthe though brown and little, yet she was infinitely amiable, all the features of her face were delicate and fair, her cheeks fresh, her eyes quick, her air sprightly and pleasant, and for her bigness majestical; her physiognomy did not deceive one, she had wit in abundance, and was infinitely merry.  
She being such a piece as I have described, you may imagine Madam that we were not ill placed since next her: But her mother being a mighty precise piece of austerity, as soon as we began to say something concerning our good fortune, she imposed silence, and said nothing, but it was in such an obliging manner, though she spoke only in the language of her eyes, that yet we easily perceived, if she had not stood more in fear of her Mother then the Goddess, she would have gladly answered us. Thus this first sight of her being passed, Pisistrates and I retired, murmuring much against the mother of Cerinthe; for we knew well enough, that but for her, we should have had some discourse during the intervals of the ceremony: However, though Cerinthe was very fair in the eyes of Pisistrates, yet he never so much as thought upon her the next day, nor went he unto the Temple.  
But the third day going thither alone, and betimes, he chanced to sit next Cerinthe again, though not in the same place where he saw her first, and to his happiness her Mother was not then with her, but there was with her a Kinswoman which was not of so Puritanical a temper. Pisistrates no sooner saw her next him, but coming very respectfully to her ear: You did so cruelly forbid me Madam the other day to express my joys of being need you (said he unto her) That I cannot tell whether you permit it now: It is so great a happiness (replied she) to be in a multitude, and sit next a man of excellent parts, that I believe Ceres will pardon me if I should employ one minute in receiving your civilities unto me. A minute Madam is so very little (replied he) that if you allow me no more, I shall be but ill satisfied: Should you spend a whole day here (replied she and smiled) perhaps you would think minutes very long: Yet Madam, I find something in your eyes (replied he) which makes me think I could spend my whole life here with much delight: Fie Pisistrates (said she turning her head aside, and imposing silence upon him with her hand) I will not hear you any longer: Yet Cerinthe was not so good as her word, for she still listened from time to time unto what Pisistrates said: 'Tis true, she did not answer, but still charged him to be silent: But Madam, from that night Pisistrates did accustom himself to see Cerinthe, and did it with abundance of care as long as the nine day's ceremony lasted: So that at the end of this Feast they were grown intimate friends. Pisistrates was extremely vexed, that as long as this ceremony lasted, Ladies received no visits: So that as great a desire as he had to see Cerinthe at her own house, he must wait until the nine days were passed. But as soon as they were over, Pisistrates went unto the wife of Philombrotus, who received him very well, and desired that her Daughter should also receive him with much civility, for she knew that her Husband was desirous to get such friends as Pisistrates.  
Cerinthe being of a very merry composition, and naturally loved Rallary, Pisistrates and she fell into great familiarity the first visit. And since several serious persons came in, who took up the mother of Cerintae, Pisistrates talked much more freely than he had done, if the company had been more general, he engaged himself into no discourse but with her, not that he thought himself in love with her, nor indeed was he very much; but the truth is, he had that kind of amorous accustomancy towards her, of which I told you before he was apt for; and she had towards him that first favourable inclination which is often seconded with a violent passion: So that Pisistrates being that day in one of his merry fits, and Cerinthe being (as usually she was) frolic, they were not weary of one another.  
At first they discoursed of all they had seen in the Temple during the nine day's Feast: Of such Lovers as were wrong placed in being far from those they loved, or of some jealous husbands which they had seen, who had never been there but to see who was with their wives: So that after many an innocent Satire, and manya pleasant description, Pisistrates upon a sudden interrupted Cerinthe, and said unto her, I pray Madam, after you have talked of every one you have seen in the Temple of Ceres nine days together, why do you not speak one word of me? I profess Pisistrates, said she and smiled, you are the strangest man in the world to ask such a question, for what can I say of you, but that you very ill obeyed me when I did forbid you talking? and you were the least devout in all the assembly. All this is true Madam (replied he) but this is not all you can say of me; for I am confident that as you saw some Lovers who could not sit next their Mistresses, and some Husbands looking who were with their wives, so you saw as well, that you were already very deep in my heart: I do protest unto you, said she and laughed, I did not so much as see myself in your eyes: It was not long of me Madam, replied Pisistrates, for I looked in yours as much as possibly I could, and endeavoured to let you see in mine, that I did you Justice, and thought you far fairer than all I could see besides: Your eyes Sir, replied she, may tell lies as well as your tongue can slatter: And to punish you (added she and laughed) I could almost wish all you say were true, and that you were deeply in love with me, for I have had a long longing curiosity to see a man really in Love: Oh Madam, said he unto her, certainly you are not sincere, for it is impossible but that you have seen many Lovers, since you are neither blind nor invisible: But to speak in your own terms, I am the most mistaken man alive, if your curiosity be not quickly satisfied; for if I be not yet in love with you, yet I dare swear that it wants so little of it, that two looks more will fully do it: Do not think Sir, said she being excellent at Rallary, that when I say I long to see a Lover, I mean such Lovers as say they are in Love, but are not, for I have no desire to see such a one: But on the contrary, I mean such a Lover as is able to do all that the most violent passion in the world can make one do: What do you mean Madam, said he? I mean, said she, that he should (if occasion present itself) kill himself, throw himself down a precipice, and poison himself for very despair. But Madam, replied Pisistrates, I pray tell me which one of these three testimonies of Love would you have a man give you, if you should make him in Love? For, said he and laughed, a man cannot kill himself, throw himself down a Precipice, and poison himself all at once. But Madam, to tell you truly, added he, methinks I see too much joy in your eyes, to desire any such tragical testimonies as these: And I am the most mistaken man in the world, if you would not take more delight in some music which a Lover should present unto you, then in seeing him kill himself; and therefore Madam be pleased to make an ingenious confession, that you do not desire any such sad signs of Love; for I must needs confess, that I take such infinite pleasure in seeing you, as if you should require it, I should not obey you. Truly Pisistrates, said she, your sincerity does please me; yet I must tell you, that then you must be no other than my friend, for if I should wish you my Lover, I should wish you also to be such a one as I mean; to wit, pale, sober, grave and melancholy, sometimes unquiet, disordered, and reserved; and indeed to be the most miserable man in the world, I would not have you one of those who can play with a Feather, and divert themselves at every thing: However Madam, said Pisistrates, I beseech you receive me as your Lover, and afterwards I will try if I can become conformable to your desires. But Madam, you must not think I can grow pale, lean, sober and melancholy in four and twenty hours: No, no Sir, said she and laughed, I am not so unreasonable, I will allow you fifteen days to fall in love with me, and fifteen days more after that to become such a pitiful Lover as I desire out of curiosity to see; for since I am none of those great beauties who wound in an instant, you will stand in need of all this time to become only a little reserved: But if at the expiration of this month which I allow you, added she, you are not become the most pitiful puling Lover in the world, you must give me leave to think you will never be such a one: But Madam, said he unto her, since it does depend wholly upon you whether I must be happy or miserable, it is not in me to promise whether I shall, or shall not be so; but I am able to engage myself, to be more in Love with you then ever any was; and to be sincere with you, if my Love should increase as it hath done this last quarter of an hour, I shall not need half fifteen days to become the most passionate lover upon Earth. Seriously Pisistrates (said she unto him) I should be very angry, if you speak truly; for to discover the very bottom of my heart unto you, I care not for such real lovers, as for such as think they are so and are not, and yet make much more noise of it then those who really are: for I think it does reflect much upon a woman's honour, to admit of such a crowd of Adorers, as many most vainly do. Yet methinks Madam (replied Pi●strates) It is a honour to Reign Sovereignly over the hearts of so many men. I do assure you Sir, much less than you do imagine (replied Cerinthe) for to tell you truly, I am confident that when one is young, and not altogether ugly, one may with a very mean merit, so they have any hansomeness, make themselves followed, and get a Troop of most assiduous lovers: since certainly that is not any effect of great beauty or wit; but depends only upon some certain petty effected indulgencies, and a kind of Air which is most fit to attract, which makes men seem more than friends, and dare not see such women without applauding their sweetness: On the contrary, I dare affirm, that without this attractive behaviour, the fairest person in the world and the most charming, shall never have this multitude of lovers: So that since I think, many lovers are no effects or arguments of extraordinary merit in such as have them; but rather of their weakness, I should be very sorry to have any such: And though I tell you I long to have one, yet I had much rather never see him, then to be perpetually importuned with such complaints, as I can never satisfy: and I am so afraid to meet with any such, that I dare not make myself any friends, lest they should afterwards change the nature of friendship into love at last. For aught I see Madam (replied Pisistrates) my destiny is changed in a short time, since within this quarter of an hour, you desired to see a lover, and now forbids me being your friend. I assure you Sir, (said she and laughed) I think it so good to have no acquaintance, that I think it would be a very ill office to make me alter my opinion. For my part Madam, (replied Pisistrates) I shall not oppose your humour of having no friends, and of not affecting to have an infinite number of lovers; but I must confess I cannot endure that you should not entertain one, or that I should not be that one.  
As Cerinthe was ready to reply, those Ladies who were talking with her mother, being gone, their discourse was interrupted. Yet Cerinthe being of a merry nature, and one that loved Rallary, she knew so well how to carry the matter, without saying either yea or no, unto Pisistrates, that he continued seeing her he much delight; for he was so deeply in love with Cerinthe, that he took a greater pleasure in talking with her, then in any other in the world; yet not so far as to have all the inquietudes of a violent passion; but on the contrary was always much joyed; for he saw Cerinthe every day, who choosing him for her companion in Rallary, made him the gladest man alive, by her thousand pleasant conceits, which she told him upon several subjects. But Madam, that you may the better understand what did most contribute unto their diversions a long time, be pleased to know, that Theocrites of whom I spoke before, who was second son unto Aristolas, was extremely in love also with Cerinthe, but in such a manner, as made her extremely merry, and acquaint Pisistrates with a hundred of her conceits. Not but that Theocrite was very handsome and had spirit enough: but being naturally of a grave, Sage and serious temper, he talked of love, as if he were upon some politic negotiation, and he loved as if he were in Print. Indeed, Madam, he was one of those lovers, who would ask a pardon if he did but sigh a little too loud; you may imagine that such a man was sport enough to Cerinthe. In the mean time: as frolic as she was, the Lady who of all the Town, did most visit her, was Euridamia, kinswoman unto Solon, who was a person so serious, and cold, whose eyes were always in a languishing melancholy, which was one of her greatest charms, though she had many others; for Euridamia was fair, and had abundance of wit, and of a sweet and pleasing spirit. So it seemed as if fortune took delight to oppose the seriousness of Euridamia, and the gravity of Theocrite against the Gagety of Cerinthe, to make it seem the more: And that she had also infused into Pisist●cates, several things, which did sympathise with the seriousness of Euridamia, and the merriness of Cerinthe: and he did equally accustom himself to see them both, and they were both more or less pleased with him, in their turns, according to the humour he was in; for when he was melancholy, than he would sit by Euridamia, and when he was merry, he was all for Cerinthe: However, certain it is, that at first, he made a further progress into the heart of the melancholy one, then into the heart of the merry, though she also esteemed Pisistrates more than any other. For my part, I was every day in their company, and I took a strange delight to see how oddly love had ordered things between these these four persons. For it seemed as if Theocrites had been purposely cut out to love Euridamia, by reason of the sutableness in their melancholies, it seemed also that Cerinthe should be most moved by the merit of Pisistrates, and not Pi●strates with hers: yet it was the pleasure of Cupid, to make the melancholy person love the merry: That Pisistrates should almost love both the serious, and the jocund; and that the merry one should almost love none. For my part, I was the happiest in the company; for I was in such favour with all these persons, that they made all their complaints unto me as occasions fell out: Indeed, Pisistrates would often complain that he thought Theocrites was too often with Cerinthe: Cerinthe also she complained against the too frequent visits of this over serious lover, because he said, that she did not give her time to rally after her own way, against love: Theocrites on his side, he complained that he was forced to love a person, whose humour was so opposite unto his own: And Euridamia also accused Cerinthe for jeering at all sorts of men, not sparing her very friends: 'Tis true, she did so, even before her face as well as behind her back: and I remember one day when Cerinthe was in one of her pleasant humours, she began to counterfeit Theocrites, and to act his manner of speaking and action, even to his very looks: So that Euridamia perceiving how she pleased Pisistrates, she could not choose but check her Rallary, perhaps as much out of a resentment of jealousy, as Justice. I profess Cerinthe (said she unto her) you commit a most horrible piece of injustice, in treating Theocrite after this manner; I do profess (replied Cerinthe and laughed) you are much more unjust than I am, in offering to do an ill office both unto Theocrites and me: For I swear, if I should not laugh in his absence at a hundred of his actions, I should not endure his presence. Therefore if you think he loves me, and that my presence pleaseth him, you must let me laugh at his melancholy; for when all is done, still I will say that Theocrites is a man of much honour; but to think that when I see him all gravity from morning till night: or to hearken a whole day to his serious sighs, and that I should not laugh at them and please myself: This is the way to be neither friend unto Theocrite nor me, since you would make him much more melancholy, and deprive me of much delight. For my part (said Pisistrates then) I think the fair Cerinthe in the right: and for my part, (added I) I am of Euridamia's opinion, and thinks there's nothing more inhuman then to gear a poor lover. To speak seriously (said Euridamia then) I think no Rallary to be innocent: then am I very often to blame (replied Cerinthe) for I must confess, that I find no company so pleasing as that where there is a kind of agreeable malice mixed in it, which makes it more merry and full of life; and to speak seriously, if any Rallary be innocent, it is at a serious and grave lover: gallantry without mirth and jocundry is a thing so extravagant, as I wonder every one should not laugh at it; for certainly it were no odder thing to see the general Counsel of all Greece to fall a dancing when they should talk of State matters, then to see a lover and a gallant of a severe and grave garb: since you are not ignorant that you can Rally handsomely (replied Euridamia out of spite, seeing Pisistrates laugh at what Cerinthe said, you think that you may without any scruple Rally thus as you do: And I am confident you think all that can be pleasing, must be spoken in Rallary. Fie Euridamia (replied she) that's too far; yet I must confess, it is a piece of difficulty, to keep up any pleasant thought in one's mind, which one knows they can well vent; and to tell you truly I think it argues more delicacy of wit to Rally handsomely, then to do many things which seem more difficult. It must needs be confessed (added Pisistrates) that it argues much wit to turn things handsomely as they please: and it is sometimes more delight to be geared by you, then to be applauded by another. It is certain (added I) that Cerinthe is admirable good at it when she pleaseth: but it is as certain also, that many persons will be meddling with Rallary, who ought not. For my part (said Euridamia) I will go further than you, and say again, that almost no Rallary can be innocent; and whosoever gets a habit of it, are in great danger to lose all friendship, all honesty and all goodness. Really (said Cerinthe and laughed) you use me very cruelly: I use you according as you deserve (replied Euridamia) not but that I know very well there is a kind of Gallant Rallary, which hath less; malignity in it than others have: but I will maintain, that whosoever useth to Rally often, does walk upon precipies: and it is the bardest thing in the world to walk even, and do it well without danger or wronging the Laws of friendship and goodness, and without wronging themselves also: For it is a thing almost impossible to use it without hatred or at least feared, and the very truth is, none are allowed to use it; also I do know very few men who are just subjects of Rallary. How? (said Cerinthe) will you defend all men in the world? I assure you (replied Euridamia I would have none forsake you.  
For first, pursued she, I would not have one jest, not only upon their particular friends, but also not upon their acquaintance: First choose them well, and be as nice as you please in the choice, but when you have chosen them, by no means play upon them, I cannot allow of their opinions, who will not spare those whom they love best in the world: For in my opinion it is most dangerous to divert one's self at the expenses of one's friends. However, said Pisistrates, you will give Cerinthe leave to play upon her Enemies; Truly, replied Euredamia, I cannot allow that more than upon friends, for Rallary is the poorest kind of revenge that can be rendered: For ought I see (said Cerinthe) you will not allow one so much as to rally with ones self: I assure you, replied she, though that be the most harmless Rallary that can be, yet if it be not done with abundance of judgement, it will be found no great diversion, and surely it is a more difficult matter to play upon ones self, then upon any other. Moreover, added she, I cannot allow any rallary upon such as are men of mean or no merit, for it is never handsome; nor do I allow it upon men of parts, because it were injustice to descant upon one slight fault, in prejudice of a thousand good qualities: But if one will needs be rallying, let it be upon ones self, but never speak any thing that may anger, or any thing that will do more than a little animate conversation, for in that case I confess it is allowable to chide ones best friends. But Cerinthe, how few men are there who knows how to rally either wittily or innocently? And truly I do not wonder at it, for the talon must be born with them, no art can infuse it; and whosoever will force his naturals, will be so far from diverting others with his Rallary, that he will be the subject of Rallary himself: It is not so in any other pleasing qualities of wit, since they may be all acquired by pains and study; but as for the gift of rallary, Nature only must give it, and Judgement must guide it: It is not enough to have many pleasant thoughts, but there must be also such an expression as must render them agreeable; the air, the aspect, the tone, and every part in general must contribute. I should never have thought, said Pisistrates, that a person so serious as Euridamia is, could speak so well of a quality she never practiseth: On the contrary, replied she, I ought to be more believed because I rally not; for having no interest in it, I speak without any passion, and examine of kinds of Rallary without injustice unto any: But to tell you truly, except one of my friends who hath a most admirable delicacy of wit and fancy, I know none but Cerinthe whom I will allow to rally: Truth is (said I then) there is nothing more insufferable than such men as are always slandering, and whose whole thoughts are rallary, who think because they grossly rub upon the faults of others, therefore they are good at rallary: There are another sort of scurrilous men, replied Pisistrates, who make me mad when I meet with them, for all their delight consists in a Popular and base way of talk, which fills the imagination with nothing but villainous things, and which make it apparent unto all who hear them, that they have spent the greatest part of their lives in the very worst company of the world. Ah Pisistrates (said Cerinthe) you delight me extremely to hear you hate such men; for though I do defend Rallary in general, yet I should forsake all manner of Jocundry, rather than such should be permitted, especially this you speak of in particular; for the truth is, I would have Rallary to be gallant, and have a little touch of malice; but yet I would have it modest and delicate, that it wound neither the ears, nor the imagination, and that it make one blush only for anger: There are yet another sort of Jesters, replied Euridamia, who tire my patience when I meet them; for their fancy is to play upon all, so that racking their wits to find an occasion, they bring out a thousand tedious things for one of any conceit in it; and for three or four happy Jests which they had broken in all their lives, you shall hear a hundred thousands bad ones from them: For my part; replied I, I met once with a man who madded me with his continual repetitions of what he thought he had wittily said, and it was such a jest, as I dare swear I have heard above a hundred times before: I cannot endure those Tale-tellers, added Pisistrates, who always laugh first at their own tale, and who should laugh alone if they never told them unto any but me. After all this, said Euridamia, there is another sort the most tedious of all, since in my opinion nothing is more unhandsome, than a certain kind of faint cold Rallary which is good for nothing, such as when they see those they talk with have a design to be pleasant, yet they will not be so, nothing can be more tyersom than this. These tellers of long tedious stories, replied I, who bring in a hundred impertinencies for one pleasing passage, are a most troublesome sort of people, though they themselves are very pleasing, and it is so hard a matter to speak neither too much nor too little, in telling a long story, that few men can do it well. These great men of old Proverbs, replied Euridamia, are very impertinent, not but that when a Proverb is aptly applied, it is very pleasing, but when the Proverb is nought or ill applied, it has a contrary effect. For my part, added Cerinthe, That as errand fools as they are, yet they serve to divert me; for though they talk much, and laugh at what themselves say and think, though they make a great noise, and talk harshly, I can laugh as heartily at them as if they were the best company in the world: But the reason why you laugh, replied Euridamia, is because you are naturally merry, and find an ample matter of Rallary upon those who do it ill-favonredly. However, added Pisistrates, we ought to be all of Euridamia's opinion, for since Rallary is a thing so difficult to be done well, she has good reason to say that it is very dangerous to use it often. I do agree, said Cerinthe, that bad Rallary is to be condemned, and that the Satirical, the gross, the cold, and the extravagant is not to be endured; but as for the gallant, delicate, fine, and witty, I shall oppose her, and defend it as far as I am able, and Euridamia must either be absolutely of my opinion, or else directly tell me what sort of Rallary she will permit me to take delight in: I have already told you, replied Euridamia, that there is none which I approve of, though there be some which pleaseth me: Tell me then which pleaseeth you, said Pisistrates, for I do believe what pleaseth you will please all the world, and though it be only to correct Cerinthe, I beseech you establish the Law of rallary, protesting unto you, that I will observe it as exactly as the Laws of Solon. For my part, said Cerinthe and laughed, I will not say so much, and if I am not much mistaken, the same may be said of the Laws which she shall make, as was said by Anacharsis of our Legislator. However (said Euridamia) Since Pisistrates says he will observe them, I will venture to make them: And I do promise also never to break them, said I unto her, provided you give them unto us presently. The word Law does so much fright me, said Euridamia, that I dare hardly pronounce it; and therefore to speak a little more modestly, I will only tell you my opinion, and submit unto your own judgements. I shall tell you then, added she, that I would have rallary natural, not forced, I would not have any to seek it; for certainly if it come not of itself unpumpt for, and without pains, it will never come well and pleasingly off. Moreover, there must be such a great interval and difference between rallary and Satyrism, that one may never be taken for the other. I know very well some say, That if rallary be not a little biting, it will never take well, but for my part, I consider it otherwise: Truth is, I would have it surprise, and sensibly touch him to whom it is addressed, but I would not have the wounds it makes to be too deep, nor prick the hearts of those who resent it, otherwise then those are pricked who gather Roses, and find a sweet smell to make amends: I would have rallary raise the fancy, and quicken the imagination with a wit full of fire, which retaining some part of its original, may shine only as the stars do, but burn not. Again, I would not have one be always in a vein of rallary, few long continuances in rallary but are naught: But above all, I would have every one know his talon of wit, and be contented; and therefore those unto whom nature hath not given a nimbleness and quickness either in their actions or feature of face, or in their expressions, are never to meddle with more than she hath given them, for art commonly mars all, let him follow only his own Genius, and not another's: It is not with rallary as with pictures, which sometimes are copied so like the original, that one cannot know the copy from its original; but in matter of rallary, there is no imitating another, and therefore let him never attempt it. But to speak something concerning those ill Jesters and tellers of tales which we have condemned, I would have such as tell a tale, never to say it is delightful before hand; I would have the tale to be either very natural, or else very witty and pertinent, that the beginning be not more pleasant than the ending, and above all things, I would have it new and short. Those who are to make long stories, I would have them do it with art and method, that they suspend the minds of their Auditors, and if it be possible to deceive them, in ending their discourse contrary to their expectations: But principally let them not use any impertinencies, let not their eloquence be either intricate or drailing, but on the contrary, let them pass from one thing to another without puzzle or confusion, and not to interrupt themselves too often, in saying, I had forgot to tell you, or by saying, I should have told you, and a hundred such like with such use, as have no method nor order in their thoughts.  
Furthermore, I would have them be sure to speak in the language of complete men, not like those whom Pisistrates did most wisely mention, unless in case he be to imitate how a Slave spoke unto his Master, or so; for then, since imitation is his aim, the nearer he imitates, the more commendable it is. Moreover, I would not have them be too covetous of their thoughts, but to take a care as much as possible not to repeat any thing twice. As for such as are full of old Proverbs in their rallary, I have already said, that they may be pertinent; and I say again, that if they be natural, pat, and applicative to the business, they much illustrate. But to speak upon that which is positively called Rallary or jesting, I say, that to rally right, is requisite to have a wit full of fire, a quick fancy, a delicate judgement, and a memory full of variety to be used upon all occasions; he must know the world, and please it, he must have a natural nimbleness of wit, and a kind of bold familiarity, which without any smack of insolence must please, and impose silence upon others. Ah Euridamia, replied Pisistrates, What abundance of wit is requisite to make up such a one as you describe? For my part, said Cerinthe, I believe if she would lay aside her serious humour, not one in all Greece could rally better than she: Seriousness, replied Euridamia, is not so great an obstacle unto fine Rallary as you imagine; for I once knew a man, who had such a languishing air with him, so melancholy and so dull a garb, as I never saw the like; and yet he was the fullest of pleasant wit and gallant Rallary, that ever I saw man in my life like him. Now though I have hinted unto you how one ought to rally, yet I must repeat what I said before, and maintain that one ought to have a great care how he rallies, especially upon his friends, yet there is one general rule which will never fail, which is, to say nothing of such as one would not willingly have them understand, and never to say any thing of themselves so biting as to hinder the delight of such as hear him; for it is not just to say any thing of your friends which will please others more than them, nor to put them into such a necessity as to reply such things as will please you less than the company, for friend is so nice a matter, that one cannot too much fear the wounding it; and indeed to speak rationally, these biting quiblets do not make the best rallary. The delight any takes in them, proceeds more from the malignity of their own inclinations, then from any right art of Rallary; and certainly a trifle handsomely retorted, is more fit for pleasant Rallary than a Satirical invective, whose name is only changed and called Rallary: It is no fault to be ill at Rallary, but it is a grand one to lose one's friend rather than his jest: All you say, replied Cerinthe, is so like the Cousin of Solon, that I think he left you all his wisdom when he went out of Athens. I am sure, said Pisistrates, She has spoken all according to the rule of good and sound reason: I know but too much for my satisfaction (replied Cerinthe) for if I should regulate myself according to her documents, I should never speak as long as I live: It would be too great a loss to impose silence upon you Madam (replied I) since few can speak so well.  
As I said so, Theocrite entered in Querpo, with a most majestic gravity, which turned the discourse, and presently parted the company; for Euridamia going away, Pisistrates whom she had pleased very well that day, presented his hand unto her, and I following presently after, we left Cerinthe with her melancholy Lover, whom She suffered only to divert herself, and to tell us the next day how grave and seriously he Courted her.  
In the mean time, Pisistrates not well knowing whether he was Lover or friend unto Cerinthe or Euridamia, whether he was in Love with one, and a friend to the other, or loved both, he placed himself almost equally poized between these two Ladies: Truth is, it was (as I told you before) according to the humour he was in: As for examyle, on one of those days when he found fault with all the evils in the Commonwealth, than he was all for Euridamia, and never looked at Cerinthe, but he would complain unto Euridamia of all the ill management of Affairs, examining them to the bottom, observing all their defects, and seeking out all remedies, as if what he said unto Euridamia were to be followed: Indeed his Spirits and imagination was as zealous, as if he were perswadeing all the people in Athens, and driving the nail more home; he foresaw all the benefits and all the miseries of the Commonwealth according to his thoughts, and made such a subversion of things, that if Fortune had executed his will, none in Athens could have stayed where he was.  
In the mean time, Pisistrates mixed some matters of Gallantry with his policy: So that Euridamia lent a pleasing ear unto him, and he was very glad of it. But then in one of his merry days, he would spend it all with Cerinthe, with whom he plotted projects of pleasure and diversion more than policy, walks, balls, music where the principal designs, whole afternoons were spent in Councils how to contrive them, and imagining a thousand other delights: Yet during all these days of sport, Theocrite and Euridamia were out of tune; yet this grave Lover was much more unhappy than this serious Lover; for she having an infinite wit, knew well enough that Cerinthe had no more power upon the heart of Pisistrates than she had: But as for Theocrite, he knew so well that he had no share in the heart of Cerinthe, that he was troubled to the soul; and yet he saw that this Lady was not capable of any great compliance with any one: But since Pisistrates pleased her more than any other, he grew extremely jealous: But Madam, if Cerinthe had reason to say that a serious Lover was a very odd thing, I am sure that I have more reason to say that a jealous grave lover is no less; and the truth is Madam, a stranger sight could not be seen then Theocrite when he was jealous; for it being a passion which of itself carries melancholy along with it, judge I beseech you what he was, who was naturally so before; but the strangest thing was to see this man so serious, and whose actions were wont to be always so in print, now full of all frivolous cares, and impertinent curiosities, that jealousy could inspire unto a man most apt for it. In the mean time, I delighted myself in the sadness of others, and in their joys also; for being then much in favour with Pisistrates, I shared in his diversions; and speaking unto him one day concerning Cerinthe and Euridamia, I pressed him to tell how his mind stood affected unto them; They are both of them so much in my mind (replied he) That did I know but one of them, I am persuaded I should be extremely in love with her, but because I equally esteem them both, my heart is not resolved what to do: And I think I may well say, that I do love them much better than I do any other of my friends, and less than a Mistress unto whom I should wholly devote myself. This answer is so strange, replied I and laughed, that I think you give it rather as good conceit, then as your real thoughts: I do protest, said he unto me, I tell you really what my heart thinks; for if Euridamia had not come unto Cerinthe, when first I knew her, I had then fallen down right in love with her; and if I had known Euridamia and never been acquainted with Cerinthe, I be-believe I should have loved her most tenderly: Truth is Silamis, said he to me, The jocundry of Cerinthe does so much please me, and the melancholy of Euridamia does so so much charm me, as I am confident if either of those two should go into the Country for one month, I am fully persuaded that I should fall deeply in love with her who stayed in Athens. I profess, said I, this is most admirable: Be it what it will, said he, what I say is true: But Sir, said I unto him, How can your mind be divided so between two persons of such opposite humours? These two persons of humours so opposite, replied he, have each of them in their way abundance of merit, and therefore no wonder my mind should be unsettled, and the wonder is the less, because they do not resemble one another, for if they were both merry, or both melancholy, doubtless I should make choice of her whose mirth or melancholy most pleased me: But because I do find that in the one which I do not find in the other, I am forced to part my esteem and my affection: And so it may also be said, that I do love them both, or at least have an equal disposition to love them: And indeed Madam Pisistrates lied not, since had it not been for his inclination towards Euridamia, he had in all likelihood fallen in love with Cerinthe, and had it not been for his inclination to Cerinthe, he had fallen also in love with Euridamia.  
However; these two Ladies at last perceiving that they themselves were equally obstacles, to keep the heart of Pisistrates from each other, they began to love one another much less. Insomuch as Cerinthe who was used to speak of Euridamia, and to say only, that she was very serious, did now say upon several occasions, that she was lumpishly melancholy; and Euridamia on her side, who was wont only to say that Cerinthe loved Rallary a little too well, accused her now of slandering, and as a lover of mischief; insomuch as this petty division produced divers quarrels between these two Ladies, which strangely perplexed Pisistrates; for they would both of them be forcing him to take their parts, yet he carried it so handsomely, that sometimes condemning the one, and sometimes the other, he became a Judge of their differences, and did not declare himself.  
But in the interim of all these squabbles, Theocrites continuing still the gravity of his humour, made no further progress into the heart of Cerinthe then ordinary, and consequently was more miserable than he was used to be. Things standing upon these terms, and Pisistrates still saying, that but for Euridamia he had loved Cerinthe, and but for Cerinthe he had loved Euridamia; I understood that Philombrotus was to go into the Country with his whole family: I no sooner heard this, but I went unto Pisistrates, and addressing myself unto him: Well Sir (said I unto him and laughed) We shall shortly see whether your words be true or no, and whether you will fall in love with Euredamia as soon as Cerinthe is out of your sight, for I understand she is going into the Country: How; said he, Cerinthe into the Country? Yes Sir, answered I, and I understand Philombrotus resolves upon it to morrow: Then am I in a miserable case (said he to me) for I understood yesterday that Euridamia goes away also to morrow; and as you were coming to me, I was saying to myself, That I must prepare to fall in love with Cerinthe during the absence of Euridamia, but for aught I see I am out of that danger since they both go. Since it is not likely (replied I and laughed) that the same chance which caused them to depart both in one day, will make them return also both in one day, I shall not despair but to see my curiosity satisfied ere it be long, and we shall see whether you will fall in love with her who returns first. In the mean time, Pisistrates thought himself extremely concerned in the absence of both these Ladies; yet since he had rather only a bare amorous inclination towards them, than any real love, he comforted up himself; and being obliged to take a journey himself a little after their departure, change of place helped to dissipate melancholy thoughts: But Madam, I being he of all his friends with whom he held most familiarity, he engaged me to go this journey with him, telling me the more to induce me to it, that he was to go near those famous Baths which are at the foot of the Mountain Thermopiles, and that we should go thither and divert ourselves some days after he had finished his business: For Madam, be pleased to know, that these Baths are so famous, that for three months an infinite number of persons of greatest quality in all Greece resort thither: Not sick, languishing, and diseased persons: But the opinion of those best known in the virtues of these Baths, is, that they are more proper to preserve health, then to cure diseases: So that all those who resort thither are in a fit condition for diversions. Moreover, Ladies having a fancy that these Baths do augment their beauty, or at least preserve it, there is every year a huge resort of them thither under pretence of preventing diseases, though really only to keep longer fair, or at least to divert themselves, for this is a rule in all Baths, that melancholy is by all means to be banished, and mirth must be made as much as may be: So Madam, since I had never been there, but often heard excellent diversions to be there met with, I accepted of the offer which Pisistratsses made unto me. I shall not insist upon telling you what business carried Pisistrates unto Thermopol●, for I must confess he kept it secret from me, yet I thought it was to confer with some who were banished from Athens, which might be useful to him in the change which he hath since brought about, though he would not confess so much unto me: However, I went this voyage with him; and after he had left me two days with one of his friends whilst he dispatched his unknown business, he returned, and we went unto Thermopiles, which was not above half a day's journey off us. But Madam, it is very requisite I acquaint you both with the place, and the manner how they live at these Baths for three months in the year: Be pleased therefore to know Madam, that very near this mountain of Thermopiles, which parts Greece, and leaves but one narrow and difficult passage by which one can pass from one part of Creece unto the other: Here stands a Town called Alpenes, wherein are many houses commodious for lodging, such as resort to the Baths; but the place where the Baths stand, hath in it something both savage and pleasing: Indeed when one is at that straight passage by which men come from one part of Greece into another, one shall see a most inaccessible mountain, environed with affrighting Precipices, which reach as far as Mount E●na towards the West; and on that side towards the East may the Sea be seen, and a kind of Marish ground, so full of sources and bogs, as there is no going: 'Tis true, that descending a little lower towards that side which looks towards Artimision, there is a most pleasant Meadow, and though it be in the view of this hideous mountain, and on the other side the Sea, yet there are an infinite number of trees growing about it. Moreover, since it is there where these Baths are, they have drained away the bogs and marish waters, and conveying them away by several channels, these famous Baths are preserved: There are also made at both ends of the Meadow above a hundred, all bathing tubs of Marble, unto which when they please they can convey the water; and since every one who comes unto this Bath brings with them a magnificent Tent to cover over the bath they employ, these several Tents standing in this Meadow do make a most delighting object. But Madam, I forgot to tell you, that the reason why this is so, is because these waters being naturally lue-warm, do lose their virtue if transported, and therefore they must of necessity bathe in the same place where they spring: Yet here the Ladies have every one their bath in private, as well as if in their Chambers; and the Tents appointed for the men are at the other end of the Meadow in respect unto the Ladies; yet there is a Gallery between them, where Guards are kept during the hours of bathing, so that the men do wait upon the Ladies so far only as this Gallery; after which they go into their own private Tents, where they are at full liberty: Also the men do never bathe at the same hours they do, for they bathe mornings, and the Lady's evenings: So that after they have waited upon the Ladies to the Gallery, they afterwards walk in the Meadows, and wait until they have done bathing, and then to conduct them unto their coaches which stand in ranks in the Meadow, and this year was a most rare year for abundance of company: Indeed there was Ladies from all parts of Greece; some from Athens, some from Thebes, others from Magares, Argos, Corinth, Chalcis, Delphos, and a hundred other places; and I do verily believe, except from Lacedaemon, there was company from all the principal Towns in Greece. Moreover, there was Musicians from all places in the world which had any fame for excellency: Indeed there was no pleasure, but it was there to be found, and more pure then in any other place, for there was not a man who had the face of business or domestic occasions upon him, all their care was only to divert, But Madam, be pleased to know, that the hours of the women's bathing being an hour before Sunset, as the men's was an hour after the rising, Pisistrates and I came to Hermopiles when the Ladies were in their Tents: So that Pisistrates having been there formerly, he knew the custom of the place, and we alighted from our horses at the side of the Meadow, than went to walk as the rest did; for since we had not come far, we were in equipage well enough to appear before the Ladies: Also Pisistrates (who as good luck was) was not in one of his negligent humours, he had on a Country habit, the most magnificent and gallant that possibly could be seen: But we had no sooner walked twenty paces in the Meadow, but an Athenian man of quality called Arist●n, named us unto the company with whom he was, and came to meet us with them; and it being the custom of the place for those who came first to do honours unto such as come after, they received us very civilly. For my part, being altogether a stranger, I viewed these several Tents with much delight, and informed myself from Ariston of all I desired to know.  
But after the first civilities were over, Pisistrates and I being parted from the rest with Ariston, we asked him if there were any beauties of Fame there that year? And after he had told us, that there was many who were very fair, others less fair, others less than they, and others not fair at all: I spied among the Tents of the Ladies, one walking alone very reservedly, whose garb was extremely noble, and habit very gallant: Indeed Madam I forgot to tell you, that they use to dress themselves after a very particular manner in that place, which truly is very pleasing and delightful; for the habit of the 〈◊〉 is resemblant unto that which Painters dress the Nymphs of Diana in; and the r 〈…〉 the custom is, that since they must undress themselves to bathe, such a dress was in 〈…〉▪ as was both gallant and convenient for that purpose.  
But to return from whence I digressed, I told you that I saw one walking alo 〈…〉 not seeing her face, I asked Ariston who she was? Though you know her no 〈…〉 r walk (said he unto me) yet she is one of our Athenian beauties. At these woe 〈…〉 ●isistrates looking more attentively upon her, and she turning her face towards us, 〈…〉 w her to be Cleorante, of whom I spoke in the beginning of my discourse, and 〈◊〉 was Daughter unto Megacles, a principal Athenian. He no sooner knew her, but 〈…〉ed her, though he had never spoke unto her; for since there had been an opposite faction between their Fathers, there was no familiarity between their Families: Yet 〈◊〉 Athens was then all in tranquillity, Pisistrates and Megacles were upon civil terms, though they used not to visit each other: But Megacles not being at the bath, only his Wife called Erophile, this did facilitate the acquaintance of Pisistrates and Cleorante. In the mean time, since this fair one returned her salute so civilly, she obliged Pisistrates to talk longer of her, and to ask Ariston how long she had been at the baths: So little a while, replied he, that if you had been seen privately at Athens with her, I should have thought you had held intelligence together, for Erophile and she have been here only two days. But how comes it to pass (said I unto Ariston) that Cleorante does not bathe? For I find her fair enough to preserve her beauty: The reason is (replied he) because she is so fair, as she think should wrong herself should she use a thing which has a reputation of imbellishing it. I thought indeed, said Pisistrates then, that Cleorante was very fair; at least I remember very well, that in the time of our divisions at Athens, I saw her one day in the Church at a nearer distance than now I do, and I said unto one, that I was very sorry Megacles had so fair a Daughter. You speak of this in such a pleasant manner, (replied Ariston) as would move one to say you had no eyes: I assure you (said he unto us) that I have not eyes always for that which I look upon, for if my mind and my eyes do not hold intelligence together, I know not well what I see.  
As Pisistrates said so, we saw many Ladies coming out of their Tents after they had bathed themselves, who meeting with Cleorante, began to walk together towards the Gallery; and since we were very near them, we saluted them. But as they turned back staying for other Ladies to come out from bathing, Ariston at the request of Pisistrates spoke unto her: I beseech you Madam (said he unto Cleorante) do not so soon deprive us of the happiness in seeing you, but give me leave to present two Athenians to you, who are sorry they have need of my mediation to make themselves known unto you, and that they have not hitherto the honour to be acquainted. Ariston being a particular friend unto Cleorante, she stayed, and kept one of her friends with her named Cephise, and coming then out of the Gallery with as much grace as civility: If these noble Athenians, said she, would know me better than they do, they must disclaim from those civilities you tell me of: It appears very plainly Madam, replied Pisistrates, that I have not the honour to be known unto you, since you think I can disclaim from what Ariston hath said unto you. For my part Madam, added I, I think it is sufficient that the fair Cleorante does know herself, not to doubt, but that as soon as any sees her, they must needs be sorry they saw her no sooner: At least I am sure, said Ariston to her, that Silamis thought you so fair, as he wondered why you should not bathe yourself, since the baths have a reputation of preserving beauty. Since I do know myself very well, replied she and smiled, I have good reason to think that your friend finding so little of beauty as I have in my face, he thinks I should wrong myself if I should hazard the losing of it, in a thought, that if I should lose any, there would not remain so much as would let me be endured: I profess Madam, said the Lady who was with her, you do wrong unto so great a beauty as yours is: I beseech you, said Cleorante and smiled, do not smother me with commendations, for since Pisistrates and Silamis do hardly know me, they will think I love to be commended, hearing one of my friends flatter me so highly; and I pray know that I do not love to be commended to my face, though I must confess I love it well enough in speaking unto others, behind my back. But I beseech you Madam, replied Pisistrates, what satisfaction will those commendations do you which you hear not, and very often will never know of. As for example, added he, I am confident, that though I should depart to morrow and never see you again as long as I live, yet I should speak above a hundred times of you, and you never know it: Perhaps you Sir would speak so little in my advantage, replied she, and smiled, that it would be better for me not to know what you say of me: I assure you Madam, said I unto her, if you did well know Pisistrates, you would easily believe that he never speaks so oft of one that does not please him; and she would know also, added Pisistrates, that I am always speaking of her who pleaseth me. As Pisistrates said so, Erophile, and almost all the Ladies being come out of their Tents, Cleorante left us, and went unto her mother, who doubtless had been one of greatest beauties in all Athens, and still was very well: Those who had seen her young, yet said, that she was never so lovely as Cleorante, who indeed was one of the most charming Beauties upon earth; for besides that her Beauty was a Beauty of great lustre, she had also such rare air of youth, such a pleasing and merry modesty, and such an inviting power, that it was an impossibility to resist her.  
But Madam, as soon as she had left us, we went, as all the rest of the men did who walked in the Meadow, to wait upon the Ladies at the door of the Gallery, and to present our hands unto them; for in that place men have as much liberty as at a Ball, where it is not necessary to be acquainted before they speak, or dance together. In the mean time, Ariston being next the door, and (as I said before) being a particular friend unto Cleorante, when she went out, she tendered her hand unto him; but as soon as he took it, he turned towards Pisistrates, and told him, that as a testimony of his friendship he would surrender his place unto him: And (added he, speaking unto Cleorante) as he deserves it better than I, so I beseech you Madam let him have it: It seems you are weary, replied she and laughed, and desiring Pisistrates should be so also, you would have him go away to morrow: No Madam, answered Pisistrates, but on the contrary Ariston desires my stay here, and therefore he lets me have the honour of speaking to you: However it be (said Ariston in leaving them) I hope you will tell me what you talk of at the end of the walk. After this, Ariston presented his hand unto another Lady, and I mine unto Cleorantes friend, of whom I spoke: So that the evening being very fair, they walked a long time; Pisistrates and Cleorante had so much leisure as to talk enough to let one another know, that they had both of them most admirable wits. But the hour of returning unto Alpene being come, Ariston came to them, because the Lady whom he waited upon went first away, and as soon as he had put her in the Coach, he came and asked Cleorante and Pisistrates how they liked one another: For my part, said Pisistrates and laughed, I must tell you, that I was never in all my life so taken with any, as I am with Cleorante, and methinks I have been acquainted with her ever since she began first to live: For my part, said this fair one, Pisistrates is so little a stranger unto me, that I believe if I had any secrets, I durst trust them unto him. To testify unto you (added Pisistrates) that we were not at any nonplus, as ordinarily those are who are first acquainted: I assure you we talked all the while, and yet not of any beauties of the time, or that of the place, nor of any such kind of things as people use to talk of when they have nothing else to say. As Pisistrates said so, Erophile being returned to call her Daughter, Ariston advanced towards her, and told her at the desire of his friend, that Pisistrates had a design to go with her to her house: So that she staying, he saluted her, and she received him very well; for she being a Lover of peace, quietness, and pleasures, she was very desirous to contract an amity between Megacles and Pisistrates; yet this conversation was not long: For since it was very late we only waited upon the Ladies to their coach: After which, Pisistrates, Ariston, and I, we walked a little longer.  
In the mean time, they had no sooner left us, but I said unto Pisistrates in a laughing manner, that I found he would ere long be accustomed unto Cleorante: But be sure, said I unto him, whilst Ariston was taking order for our lodging, that first you have unaccustomed yourself from Cerinthe, and from Euridamia: We shall stay so little here, replied he and laughed, that I shall not have leisure to accustom myself in earnest with Cleorante: And we shall return so soon unto Athens, that I shall not have leisure to unaccustom myself from Cerinthe and Euridamia: But Euridamia and Cerinthe, said I unto him, will not be there when you return, for they are both in the Country: 'Tis very true, said he unto me, I profess I had forgotten that: Really, said I unto him and laughed, this is a most infallible proof that you are not in love with them: For it is without example, either in a Lover or a friend, that they should forget they bad adieu unto their Mistress or friend, and not remember whether they be absent or present: Since I laughed something loud, Ariston coming towards us, asked what I laughed at? But Pisistraees not well knowing any reason why, forbade me to tell him so earnestly, that indeed I did not: After which, we began again to talk of Cleorante, and we asked him, whether she had as much goodness as she had beauty: Doubtless she hath (replied Ariston) but she hath one good quality which is very particular, for she is unequal humoured, without any fantasticalness, and she is at that very same time one of the most equal humoured persons upon earth, in many things. This is a thing, replied I, which cannot be easily comprehended: Yet it is most true, replied he, for most certain it is, that Cleorante is always one of the best persons in the world, and loves her friends with the most even, constant, and equality of humour. In what then is she unequally humoured? replied Pisistrates. In this, answered he, that she is sometimes merry, and sometimes serious, and yet her jocundry never makes her too merry, nor her seriousness too melancholy, but for all that, she is of a very different humour, though she be always equally good. Moreover, the very same pleasures will not equally delight her; for some days it is a torment unto her to talk of going to a Ball, and sometimes she is wholly intent upon it; and yet, whether she be merry or serious, she is always equally amiable to all her friends, for she never has any pettish humours towards them, how different soever she be to herself; and indeed it may well be said, that she is only different and unequal, to the end she may the more please, and make it appear she has all the charms that can be found in two tempers so opposite to each other: You set Cleorante out by such a Character, as fills me full of curiosity to know her more particularly, replied Pisistrates, and I think that if I had no business at Athens, I should stay here as long as she did; but since I intent my time here to be not above seven or eight days, I desire to employ that time in seeing her as much as I can: If that be your design, replied Ariston, than we must retire; for it is this very night that all the Ladies met at her mother's house to dance.  
Ariston had no sooner said so, but Pisistrates went towards our horses, at the side of the Meadow with Aristons: After which, we went unto Alpenes, and lodged at Aristons' house, who gave his own Chamber unto Pisistrates, and divided another between me and himself, for there was this year such a multitude of people at the Baths, that without him we should have been puzzled for a lodging. In the mean time, Pisistrates having his men and equipage with him, he put himself into a habit for dancing, and did it doubtless without having the least thought of falling in love with Cleorante; on the contrary, when I came unto his Chamber, he talked with me of Cerinthe and Euridamia as we were wont, and he wished them in that place, ask me, which I thought would first return to Athens, adding, that as soon as he returned thither, he intended to write unto them of all the passages at the bath, and to make an ample relation of them. After which, Ariston also entering, to tell us it was time to go, and acquainting us with the mode of their Gallantry, to the end we might not seem as strangers, we went unto Erophiles house, who with Cleorante, received us with much civility, and Cleorante putting herself into another dress after her return from the baths, with an addition of Jewels thereunto, she was a fresh lustre of beauty in the eye of Pisistrates. Again, since he was better acquainted with her then any of the rest, and since she was the only Lady of all the company except Cephise, unto whom he ever spoke, therefore he applied himself more assiduously unto her, and took her out to dance ofter than any other. Both of them chancing that night to be in their frolic humours, they danced so well together, that all the company admired them: Truth is Madam, it may well be said, they passed away that night together in private amidst a great multitude, so seldom were they separated; for my part, though I applied myself to Court Cephise, yet I observed by the countenance of Pisistrates, that he was not weary of his employment, and by Cleorantes, that he was welcome to her: Also I plainly saw, that all the great Feasts of Athens did never divert Pisistrates so much as this Assembly, and indeed it was such as would delight any, for the Ladies were very fair, they were in more Gallantry of dress then ordinary, and there was a kind of greater freedom then at those Balls which are kept in Towns. But the hour of retiring being come, and the company parting, we parted as the rest did, and in our return I observed, that Pisistrates was extremely gay and pleasant: So that coming to him, whilst Ariston was talking to some other men: Doubtless, said I unto him, you are extremely well satisfied with your visit of Cleorante, since you are so merry and lively at such a time when every one desires to sleep, and is weary with dancing or waking: Alas Silamis (said he unto me) did you but know my adventure, you would wonder? What in the name of the Gods may it be, said I unto him? It is, said he, that I have found Cerinthe in Cleorante: How Pisistrates, said I unto him, they are nothing alike, for Cleorante is tall and fair, and Cerinthe is little and black: But it must be confessed, said Pisistrates, that the tall and fair is a greater beauty than the little and black, and all the charms of wit and jocundry which are in Cerinthe, are likewise to be found in Cleorante, only here's the difference, Cleorante rallies with less malice, and if I be not much mistaken, she has a soul more tender than Cerinthe: But Sir, said I unto him and laughed, As when we were at Athens, there was nothing but the presence of Euridamia which hindered you from loving Cerinthe, so I shall think that nothing else will hinder you from loving Cleorante, since you find the charms of Cerinthe in her: Since we are to tarry here but eight days, replied be and smiled, I shall not be perfidious either unto Cerinthe or Euridamia, yet since Cleorante makes me remember Cerinthe, I know not whether she will have the advantage of the other. As I was ready to reply, Ariston coming to us, he asked Pisistrates, whether what he had said unto him before they went unto the Ball, did any thing profit him? And whether he observed how closely a man of Cerinthe had Courted a Lady of Argos? and many other such questions: You might do well to ask Silamis whether he saw any such, replied Pisistrates: As for my part, I saw none but Cleorante, who seemed unto me so fair and so lovely, as I understand not why I should not be on the side of Megacles, that I may be a friend unto his Daughter. Since it is much a more easy matter to be her Lover then his friend, replied Ariston, perhaps it had been better for you, if you had never seen her, or at least not so soon: No, replied Pisistrates, but on the contrary, for if it be my fate to fall in Love with Cleorante, I would have it at the very first sight of her, for than I shall sooner find a recompense to my million of services, or at least stave off the more Lovers, and hinder Rivals: Yet she hath one very resolute Lover, replied Ariston. I believe, said I, it is the Brother of Theocrite, called Lycurgus. The very same (replied Ariston) and he hath so long loved her without being loved again, that I think he will love her as long as he lives: Provided it be always so, said Pisistrates, he will not much prejudice his Rivals: Yet I assure you, replied I, that a Rival is always a mote in ones eye, though he be hated. As I said so, we came to Aristons' lodging; so that it being very late after we had waited upon Pisistrates to his Chamber, we went into ours. In the mean time, Pisistrates being very Noble, and his dancing fancy continuing, he told Ariston at parting, that he desired to give a Ball, and Cephise being Aristons Cousin, he entreated him to oblige her that it might be kept at her house, and Pisistrates resolved to go himself and employ the afternoon following in entreating that favour from her, and in inviting most of the considerable Ladies: But since he would needs begin with Erophile, because of Cleorante, we made not so many visits as we intended, for the visit lasted almost all the day. In the mean time, I observed that Cleorante and he were nothing so frolic as the night before; but on the coutrary, she was all serious and grave. The truth is, I never in my life saw a melancholy person so sweet and lovely, nor a modesty more charming than hers: I had need to coin a word to express the air of her aspect rightly when she is not in that frolic humour which sometimes takes her; for the word melancholy is too much, the word serious also gives an Idea of too grave a person; but such a phrase it must be, as will speak Cleorante neither directly serious, nor melancholy; but something that is so languishing, so sweet, and so modest, as infinitely pleaseth, and imprints respect. But Madam, after we had waited upon the Ladies to their Coach, and came to the Meadow, we walked whilst the Ladies bathed. Pisistrates drawing me aside very earnestly: Did I not fear (said he unto me) that you would mock me, I would tell you the strangest passage that ever happened unto any. For truly (said he) yesterday I found Cerinthe in Cleorante, and to day I protest; I found Euridamia, an Euridamia without melachonly, an Euridamia a thousand times more charming than the other: I profess unto you Sir, said I unto him and laughed, this is a great happiness, to find two friends or two Mistresses that are absent in one person, and this one more amiable than they both: It is so, said he, for Cleorante serious is Euridamia, and Clerante merry is Cerinthe, and this is so true, that if you will observe her, you will find I am in the right. The thing is so worthy of curiosity, replied I and laughed, that I shall be sure to observe it.  
But in the mean time, said I, I do not see Sir how you can resist a person who hath the charms of two, the one of which had overcome you, if you had not seen the other: I told you yesterday, replied he, that we shall stay so little here, as I shall not have leisure to tie myself unto Cleorante, or untie myself from Cerinthe, and Euridamia. As I was ready to answer him, we were interrupted by several persons, and all the rest of the day I could talk no more with him; for as soon as the Ladies came out of the Gallery, he presented his hand unto Cleorante, and never left her, until she took Coach. Moreover, as soon as ever we were risen from dinner, we went unto a Lady's house of Argos, with whom the company was to pass away the afternoon, and as soon as we came there, Pisistrates applied himself to Cleorante.  
At our going from thence, he assembled all the Musicians in Alpenes to play (as he said) unto all the Ladies; but to tell you truly, we began at Cleorantes, and were so long before her Window, that the Sun was ready to rise before we returned to our lodgings: And I assure you it may well be said, that we rather waked then diverted some of the Ladies. But at last, Pisistrates being every way Noble and magnificent, his design of the Ball was executed, he went to prepare Cephise, who undertook to invite the Ladies, and to the harmony he added a most rare banquet; and he did so often engage himself in such Feasts whilst he was at Al●enes, as I saw it would be longer than eight days before we should depart; and indeed Madam I was not mistaken, for in lief of eight days, we stayed there two entire months. However, that eight day being come, I saw that in lieu of dreaming upon my departure, Pisistrates taking order for a great Feast which he intended to make: So that not being able to forbear chiding him: I see, said I unto him, there is no sign of our return to Athens; but I pray Sir, Do that which you said you would: Then put me in memory of it, replied he, for I must confess I have forgotten what it was I said unto you. How? said I, Do you not remember how you said you would write unto Cerinthe and Euridamia? And make them ample relations of all your diversions at the Baths, and of all you saw there? When I had that design, replied he and laughed, I knew not that I should find Cerinthe and Euridamia at Alpenes; and truly Silamis, to speak more seriously & sincerely both, I cannot tell whether I should much please them in relating all passages here, especially the passages in my heart: For truly Silamis, I never saw myself so near not being myself as now. To speak the truth, replied I, it would he strange news to send them, that you are in love with Cleorante; for I am sure both of them had hopes of captivating you themselves. However, said he, whether I fall in love with Cleorante or no, I do think it very expedient that you do write unto them a true relation of all the passages at the baths, and that you send them word (as great news) how you believe I am in love with Cleorante; for if I do fall in love with her, the thing will not surprise them when we return to Athens, and if I do not fall in love with her, we can turn it into Rallary. I would with all my heart, said I unto him: But why should I write unto those two Ladies unless you write also? Then do not write, said he, for I cannot write any thing to them at this present, not but that I do very much esteem them; but Cl●orante is so much in my fancy, that I can think upon nothing else. And the truth is Madam, he had so accustomed himself to see Cleorante, that he could not endure to be from her; yet he did not plainly tell her that he loved her, but all his actions spoke it for him, and there was not one at the baths which did not see and speak of it. On the other side, Cleorante did very much esteem Pisistrates; and it was apparent no man did please her so well as he did. The truth is, his whole care was to divert her, and it was he alone who made all the diversions since he came to the baths. Since there was that year many more women than men, I understood by Cephise, that when we came, the Ladies intended to be at the charges of the Music and all the diversions, because there was some men who sought for some poor pretences, to be excused from it; but after Pisistrates came, none ever meddled with it but himself. In the mean while, since the inequality of humours in Cleorante and Pisistrates did not every day hit alike, there happened the pretiest disputes in the world between them: But when they jumped both in one humour, it was the rarest sight imaginable to see them together. For my part (said I one day unto Pisistrates and laughed) I should think it much better to have a serious friend and merry friend several, then to have them both in one person, for when Cleorante is in her languishing humour, and you not, then cannot you tell where to be merry, whereas if they were separate, you might be either merry or melancholy according to your own humour: You do so much divert yourself at my follies, said he to me, that I should do you a very bad office if I should see Cleorante no more, and therefore methinks you should be glad I love her.  
Pi●●strates spoke this in such an angry air, that I plainly perceived the merry humour was not upon him that day, and I saw he was serious, and reserved, and angry, even before Cleorante; and I had the pleasure to see two persons which infinitely esteemed each other in opposite opinions: Truth is, this did not happen very oft; but when Pisistrates had a fancy of Poetry, and Cleorante a fancy of Music, they would compose most rare Eulogies and Satyrs of those two arts; and so of all the rest, as occasions were offered: But one day, policy and public Affairs was their contest; for as we heard that morning there had been some stirs in Athens, since our departure, Pisistrates being then in his lumpish humour, and fancy of regulating the Commonwealth, he bolted out a hundred quibbles against such as had the Authority in our City: So that Cleorante being in her merry fit, and unwilling to spend all the day upon matters of policy, she began to contradict him; and the rather, because Erophile being busy in her Closet writing unto Megacles, there was none but Cephise, Pi●●strates, and me with her. So that after she had suffered Pisistrates to inveigh against the disorders of the Commonwealth near half an hour, she abruptly interrupted him: Is it possible Pisistrates, said she unto him, you should not consider that ever since any force or Laws were, and since they made difference of men, there has ever been some who have ill commanded, and some who were ill obeyed? And therefore time is but ill spent in continual complaints, which will do no good: Why? said he, Will you not give me leave to complain that so many things should be done against all reason? And to see, that the Athenians who thought themselves free because they had no King, should now be Slaves unto a hundred Tyrants who have all the Authority in their hands? And who do nothing but enrich themselves, and impoverish others? Is it possible one should endure, and say nothing, a thousand injustices every day? And that Athens which is the most famous City of all Greece should be ready to perish, because the Governors do govern it ill: I assure you (said she unto him) rather than torment myself as you do, I would do any thing else; for if you can govern it better, do, and you would do well: But since it is not the pleasure of fortune to cast the conduct of Affairs upon you, believe me Pisistrates it is better to let them alone: And be confident, that as what others do doth not please you, so what you would do would not please others, if you were in their places. If it did not please them, yet it ought to do (replied he) for I am sure that I would do nothing but what was just. Though you did nothing but what was just (replied Cleorant?) yet they would complain of you; for indeed whether Kingdom or Commonwealth, complaints will be; and therefore since (to speak generally) these kind of complaints do better become the heard of people, than men of Quality: I would complain as little as I could I assure you (replied Cephise) Pisistrates is not the only man of his quality who complains, but there are many others. Were he the only man replied Cleorante, I should not find fault with his complaints; for being my friend I should impose silence upon him, or else desire him not to see me till his politic humour were over: But all men of his Volley have of late got such a custom of eternal talking concerning the Public good, and matters of State, as that they are become insupportable. Some of them we see no sooner come from School, but presently they pretend to be Reformers of the Commonwealth.  
Some women there are also, who having only as much wit as to dress themselves, will as boldly give their opinions upon the most difficult businesses of State, as if they had the wisdom and experience of Solon. In the mean time, it would be nothing so absurd to see the Seven Sages of Greece busy themselves in the choice of Ribbons or Fashions, as to see these young people of both Sexes meddle with matters of Government: Truth is (said Cephise, and laughed as well as Pisistrates and I) Policy is so unfit a subject for a whole afternoons discourse amongst Ladies, as I will not meddle with it: For my part, (added I, to carry favour with the Ladies) I will never talk of it with women unless I be forced. And for my part (said Pisistrates crabbedly) I will talk of it as often as the mind takes me, for I am a declared Enemy against all manner of injustice, and most zealous for the public good. But I pray Sir, replied Cleorante, What good will these complaints do you, or any else, be they never so just? For when you have spent a whole day in talking, all your talk does nothing. Also you often reason upon false grounds, added she, because you know the things, and do not know the motives: you propose a hundred expedients which can never be followed; and therefore time is ill spent in talking of evils which cannot be remedied by talking; and though it were possible to find remedies by changing the Government, yet I have heard many able men say it were better to live in a disordered Government, then to alter it: And therefore Pisistrates, the best course is to pray unto the Gods, that they would be pleased to place able men at the Stern of Affairs, but if it shall not be their pleasure to send such, let us see their faults, but not do them, and not spend our whole lives in talking of policy, and making needless complaints; Unless, added she and laughed, you have some secret design which you will not impart unto us, and unless by vilifying the Government you would incite the people to Rebellion, and make yourself the Tyrant of Athens. Since I cannot be so, but I must be yours also Madam, replied he sharply, I have almost a mind to endeavour it: For to have such a Subject as you, I would not think the name of Tyrant odious: But I see Madam, said he, you are not so zealous for the liberty of your Country, but that you would hate me if I should set it free. Truly, said she and laughed, provided that in four and twenty hours' space you could make a calm in Athens, that there should be neither Civil nor Foreign War, and that you would make a Law forbidding talking against State matters, especially young Gallants and Ladies, I should not much care if you had the Government, because I am persuaded that there is much more safety and less faction in a Monarchical estate, then in a Commonwealth. But since this will never come to pass, and since you cannot reign without abundance of trouble and division, keep yourself contented, I conjure you, and let us rather talk of dancing, music, Poetry, Painting, or any thing, then of policy. Since you will not talk of what I would have you, replied Pisistrates, I will not talk of what you desire, but I will ask you which you would rather choose, I should be the Tyrant of Athens, or yours, as your Lover, or as your Husband? Cleorante is so generous, replied Cephise, that I can guests what she will answer: For my part, replied I, I cannot so easily guests: And yet you easily may (replied Cleorante) for you may imagine I had rather all the Athenians were Subjects unto Pisistrates, then that I were his Slave? But Cleorante, said Cephise to her; Where is your love to your Country? But Cephise, replied Cleorante, Where is the love unto myself? No, no, added she, let us not deceive ourselves, our particular interest is dearer to us then the general; and all those Zelots for their Country aim most at their own good: Therefore I declare unto you, that I had rather a thousand times Pisistrates were the Tyrant of Athens, then mine. I am so far from being so, replied he, and looked upon her with abundance of Love, as I think nothing more impossible: If you take not good heed Madam, said Cephise and smiled, as she turned towards Cleorante, In your forbidding Pisistrates to talk of policy, you will perhaps oblige him to talk of love. Though I do not much love any should speak unto me of it, replied Cleorante and laughed, yet so one talk gallantly of that Subject, I had rather be obliged to hear it, then to hear talk of State matters, especially some certain men in the world, for there are some whom it concerns not who governs, because they have no interest, yet do trouble themselves as much, as if they had as much right to pretend unto it, as Pisistrates hath. But Madam, replied he, Is there any who have no interest in the Government? Can servants themselves be happy, when their Masters are not? I know not, said she unto him in the pretiest fret in the world, Whether they can or no; but I am sure there is no great pleasure in seeing you when you have your politic humour in your head: If you will Madam, said he unto her, I will never speak of it again as long as I live. If you can do so, replied she and smiled, you will do me a great pleasure. But Madam, replied he, I will not engage myself but upon this condition, that I may speak whatsoever I please both of you and of myself. Pisistrates had no sooner said so, but Cephise and I condemned her for accepting his offer, yet for a while she did forbid him; for she said, What can he say of me and himself? If he tell me of my faults, he will vex me; and if he commend me, he will not much divert me, for I do not love to be commended to my face. Moreover, if he commend himself, I shall esteem him less, and if he discommend himself, I shall think it a disguized pride. So that not seeing what pleasure I can have in suffering him to speak often both of himself and me, it must be concluded that I do hate policy in accepting his Proposition. Thus Madam this Treaty ended, and Pisistrates engaged himself to talk no more of State matters unto Cleorante, and Cleorante promised Pisistrates to let him say what he pleased both of her and himself, yet not to have this liberty but when he was in his humour of policy: But Madam, since this I assure you, he made use of his privilege in telling her she was the fairest that ever he saw, and gave her good cause to believe he loved more than ever any did: So that Cleorante having a pretence for letting him speak thus; without taking the thing as serious, she managed the matter so handsomely, that when Erophile talked of returning unto Athens, Pisistrates had no more to say unto Cleorante, but that he was in good earnest, when he said he loved her. However, since Pisistrates stayed at the baths, only because Cleorante was there, he offered himself unto Erophile to be her Guard, so that we returned with her. Cephise and Ariston also returned with us. But Madam, be pleased to know, that an accident happened which strangely perplexed Pisistrates; for it chanced unhappily, that when we were near Athens we lost our way, and to complete the disaster, night being upon us, Erophiles Coach broke, and broke just before the Gate of a base Court which seemed to belong unto a house of good capacity: So that since we had no course but to desire the assistance of the Master of the house, we lighted from our horses, and the Ladies came out of the Coach, and began to walk, whilst Pisistrates went and desired a lodging for all this good company in the great house. So that going yn foot to the Gate of this base Court, to know whose the house was he knocked, and the Gates were opened. And they were no sooner open, but within four paces of him, he saw Philombrotus his Wife, Cerinthe, Euridamia, and Lycurgus, who came out to see them; & having a design to walk into the fields, took that way where the Coach was broken. You may imagine Madam, how Pisistrates was surprised at this sight; yet since he was so near Philombrotus, that he had no leisure to consider; and seeing there was no altering his design, he went on very confidently, and saluted him and all the Ladies. After which, acquainting him with the accident which had befallen Erophiles Coach, Philombrotus prevented him in the request he intended to make, and offered very nobly to lodge all that good company, towards whom he was walking with his. So that these two companies meeting, you may conceive Madam in what a vexed condition Pisistrates was; for besides his loving Cleorante incomparably better than ever he loved either Cerinthe or Euridamia, the sight of Lycurgus displeased him, because he understood by Ariston that he was deep in love with Cleorante; also he had an observant eye over this interview: Truth is, he had so much satisfaction as to see, that Cleorante received his Rival very coldly. In the mean time, since Cerinth● and Euridamia had no relations to the baths which had acquainted them with Cleor 〈…〉 Conquest, they both of them looked upon Pisistrates as their own; So that they were both of them in their ways ●●gely civil unto him. Pisistrates on his side was the same, but he knew then very well 〈…〉 that these two Ladies whom heretofore he thought to have fall 〈…〉 in love withal, should now never be but in the degree of friends; and he perceived also by the thoughts he had of Lycurgus, that he needed not to ask him of what nature the affection was which he had unto Cleorante, since he needed not to question but it was Love. In the mean time, Cerinthe and Euridamia finding Cleorante admirably fair that day, because they knew not that she had taken Pisistrates from them, they could not ●●use but commend her, whilst Philombrotus and his Wife were talking unto Erophile. Truly Madam, said Cerinthe unto Cleorante, I do find you are so much embellished, that you persuade me the baths have indeed that virtue which is attributed unto them. No, no, Madam, said Pisistrates boldly and interrupted her, Never ascribe more unto the Baths then what's their due, for Cleorante returns and never bathed, and that freshness which you see upon her cheek, is only an effect of her youth and her own beauty; and I do protest, that out of a multitude of high beauties which bathed every day, there was not one whose lustre she did not dim: Since you went not to bathe yourself, replied Cerinthe, and blushed for anger at the commendations which he gave Cleorante, it is to be thought Madam you went thither only to perplex the hearts of all those who saw you there. But you see Madam (replied she, and pointed at Piststrates, Ariston, and me, that I have spared those of my own Country; for they are too merry to have their hearts wounded: Those wounds are so sweet, replied I, seeing the nonplus of Pisistrates, that one may be glad to have them, and that joy which appears in the faces of Pisistrates, Ariston, and me, is a convincing proof that you have not very much wounded us: On the contrary, replied Euridamia, and looked upon Pisistrates, I think it so glorious to be wounded by so fair a hand, that it would be a difficult thing not to be joyed at it. However it be (said Cephise, not knowing the interest which Cerinthe and Euridamia had in Pisistrates) I assure you there was not so many men this year unto whom the Baths have done good unto, as there are whom the eyes of Cleorante hath done hurt unto: For my part, said Cerinthe in way of Rallary, to try whether her suspicion were rightly grounded, I care not what hurt they have done unto the men of Thebes, Delphos, Argos, or Megares, so the Athenians be free; but for them, I must confess, I would not have her bring them back Slaves. Pisistrates, Ariston, and Silamu do agree so well together, replied Euridamia, that there is no likelihood of their being Rivals: For my particular, said Ariston, I do declare openly that I dare not be in love with Cleorante, and am but only her friend: For my part, said Pisistrates, I will not so directly tell what I am, for methinks it is not handsome to tell before all the world, whether one be in love or no.  
This answer which Pisistrates made was not interpreted after the same manner, for Cerinthe flattering herself, did alter her opinion, and thought that Pisistrates said only so, because he thought it not civil to tell a fair Lady to her face, that he was not in love with her. Euridamia for her part, she seeing no share she had in the answer of Pisistrates, knew not whether the hidden sense of his words related unto Cleorante or Cerinthe: But as for Lycurgus, the looks of Cleorante did clearly evidence unto him the obscurity of Pisistrates his discourse; for this fair one turning her eyes accidentally towards Pisistrates, L●curgus saw she took them off again in such a manner, as made him judge, she knew Pisistrates loved her more than he would tell: So that the very same words which extinguished jealousy in the heart of Cerinthe, did kindle it in Lycurgus: They put Euridamia into doubt, and assured Cleorante of Pisistrates his discretion.  
In the mean time, Philombrotus and his Wife who were talking with Erophile, beginning to walk towards their house, and commanding some of their Servants to get the broken Coach mended, Cephise, Cleorante, Euridamia, Cerinthe, Pisistrates, Lycurgus, Ariston, and I, did follow them, and chance did so favourably order the business for Pisistrates, that without any exceptions; he helped Cleorante to walk, for it was the custom of the Country, for the strangers always go first: So Lycurgus led Cephise, Ariston, Euridamia, and I Cerinthe. Truth is, she spoke not much unto me, for she had always something to say unto Pisistrates, or unto Cleorante: Euridamia for her part, she entertained Silamis no better, and Lycurgus did not much divert Cephise. Truth is Madam, as things stood, if we had stayed longer, we should have been all weary: For though Pisistrates was not where he would be, since he was not at freedom, he thought himself nothing happy; and the presence of his Rival, and those two friends who pretended to be his Mistresses, did damp all his pleasures.  
But being come into the house of Philombrotus, they carried Erophile, Ciphise, and Cleorante into a very fair Chamber where they left them for a time at liberty to rest themselves. So that by this means Pisistrates was engaged to be with Cerinthe and Euridamia, without Cleorante: Yet he carried himself well enough in this discourse, for since he always esteemed them, and saw them both together, he spoke nothing which might make them think he was changed; and if they had seen him only out of Cleorantes company, they would have believed him to be the same he was when he went from Athens. But they continued not long in these thoughts, after Erophile, Cephise, and Cleorante came out of their Chambers, and went into a Parlour which looked into a lovely Garden where Cerinthe, Euridamia, and all the rest of the company were: For as soon as Cleorante appeared, Pisistrates went to her, and had so quite forgotten that Cerinthe and Euridamia observed him, as though she had not been above half an hour out of his sight, yet he seemed as glad to see her again, as if he had been months from her: So that now the melancholy and merry Ladies began both to think one and the same thing, and concluded certainly that Pisistrates was in love with Cleorante, for Cerinthe was vexed, and Euridamia was sad, yet both of them had one equal consolation in the adventure, for Cerinthe had rather lose Pisistrates by Cleorante then by Euridamia, and Euridamia had rather Cleorante should get Pisistrates from her, than Cerinthe should: Yet this poor consolation did not so much cheer them up, but that it might be easily observed there was something in their minds which did not please them, for Cerinthes' Rallary was a little too tart, and Euridamia's melancholy would not give her leave to speak: So that Cleorante having a discerning wit, she quickly perceived that these two Ladies pretended something to the heart of Pisistrates; and being full of curiosity to know the certainty, also knowing I was intimate with Pisistrates, she o laid her plot after Supper, that she engaged me to talk with her, purposely to pump satisfaction out of me: On the other side, Cerinthe and Euridamia having a burning desire to know all passages at Thermopiles between Pisistrates and Cleorante, they began to communicate their design, and to seek out ways to be informed: So that seeing Cleorante talk with me, Cerinthe fell into discourse with Ariston, intending to squeeze him, whilst Euridamia talked with Cephise with the same design: And since Philombrotus and his Wife talked low with Erophile, Pisistrates and Lycurgus were forced to talk together, though they had no great inclination to it, for Lycurgus knew well enough that Pisistrates was his Rival: And Pisistrates knew from Ariston that Lycurgus was his: So that I do verily believe Madam, never was night passed with less agreeableness, where all the company were rarely accomplished persons: As for Pisistrates and Lycurgus, they were strangely weary of one another: Cleorante was not over well pleased, because I would not impart as much as she desired to know: Cerinthe and Euridamia were worse satisfied, because Cephise and Ariston told them particularly many things, which made them think Pisistrates in love with Cleorante: But Madam, the strangest passage was, Ariston had no sooner told Cerinthe that he thought Cleorante had conquered the heart of Pisistrates, but this malicious Lady, who knew not what Cephise had said unto Euridamia, had a strange impatience to let her know what Ariston had told her, purposely to vex her, and to make her believe that she cared not for it; and indeed locking up all her anger in her own heart, and assuming into her eyes her natural blithness, she took Euridamia apart, and told her as very good news, that she knew by Ariston, Pisistrates was in love with Cleorante.  
But to drive her malice a little further, she spoke so loud unto Euridamia, that Lyourgus heard her, and if Pisistrates had not been in a deep study, he had heard her also; for I heard her to the place where I was, though it was further off her than he was, In the mean time, Euridamia knowing well the mind of Cerinthe, she returned malice for malice, and did so aggravate unto her what Cephise had said concerning the love of Pisistrates unto Cleorante, that she nettled Cerinthe, more than Cerinthe had her.  
Thus these two Rivals in revenging themselves upon one another, were revenged also upon him they had lost; for Lycurgus so well knew that Pisistrates was his Rival, that his heart swelled with jealousy and hatred. In the mean time, after all these particular conferences, a general conversation began, which was no more pleasing then the rest, for since none spoke what they thought, it was very dull and drooping: Nor did it last long, for as soon as Philombrotus made the motion unto Erophile of retiring betimes, because she said she would be stirring betimes in the morning, none did oppose it, but every one willingly parted except Pisistrates, who could not so willingly part so soon from Cleorante. However, to complete the adventure, the Sun was no sooner risen but Theocrite arrived, with intentions to dine with Philombrotus; but in coming he met his Brother (whom jealousy had waked) walking in the way by which Erophile came the day before: So that lighting from his horse, he asked how Cerinthe did, whom still he loved extremely, though she jeered him as much for his gravity and seriousness, as ever she did. So that Lycurgus having his mind full of his own vexations, and not being ignorant that his Brother had some jealousy of Pisistrates, before he went to the bath, he began to tell him who was in the house. How? cried out Theocrites, extremely vexed to find a man there whom he thought to be his Rival, is Pisistrates here? Yes (replied Lycurgus) he is, but it has pleased Fortune to make him more my Rival then ever he was yours: Then you are fallen in love with Cerinthe since I was here, replied Theocrite with as much wonder as grief: No, no, replied Lycurgus, but Pisistrates is fallen in love with Cleorante, whilst he was at the bathe with her, Alas Brother, replied Theocrite, I must needs ask you pardon for not being able to grieve at your misfortune, for I find it so great a happiness to hear that Pisistrates is not my Rival, that I am not able to grieve at anything: For a melancholy man (replied Lycurgus churlishly) you are the most sensible of joy that ever I saw since you can rejoice at my misery: When Pisistrates hath been as long your Rival as he hath been mine, answered Theocrites, you will pardon my joys to find none. The truth is, perhaps you will not be so miserable as I was, since he may chance find Cleorante, not so kind as he did Cerinthe. Alas Brother, said Lycurgus, there is a great difference between Cerinthe and Cleorante; for the first is capable neither of hatred nor love, and you had no reason to fear that Pisistrates could win any more upon her then any other, further than diverting her, which you could not do, because your humour was opposite unto hers. But as for Cleorante; though she have some suitableness of spirit with Cerinthe, yet she has not such a heart, for I am sure she knows how to love and hate, and I am in danger to be the most miserable man in the world.  
As Lycurg●s said so, Pisistrates, Ariston, and I, came where they were: So that we were obliged to salute Theocrite, whom we had not seen before. But Madam, the wonder was, this grave and melancholy man accosted us with a smile, and I observed it as a thing so extraordinary, as I came to Pisistrates and told him, that certainly Theocrite hath divined that he should not be his Rival. In the mean time, since we knew that Erophiles Coach was mended, and that she would go betimes, we took the way towards the house, where we found all the Ladies together, whom Theocrite saluted with such a kind of air, as was much less grave than was accustomed; yet I think Cerinthe had took no notice of him, had not I told her (as a thing extraordinary) that I had seen him almost laugh: Truly, said she, in the humour I am in, I should be very glad if Theocrite could become as merry as Pisistrates, and Pisistrates as melancholy as Theocrite: Fie Madam, said I unto her and smiled, I beseech you why would you wish Pisistrates to be melancholy? Truly Pisistrates, replied she and laughed also, hath done nothing that concerns me: But I am so much obliged unto Theocrite, that the least I can do for him, is to wish him merry and joyful: Seriously (said I unto her) if you would once make him so by marrying him, I think he would be no longer melancholy: But the worst for him is (replied she) my affection must precede his mirth, and I would have it contrary, and see his good humour precede my affection: But Madam, it was very observable, Theocrites was the least melancholy of all the company, though he was as melancholy a piece as ever lived, for Cerinthe being vexed at the change of Pisistrates, she was not as she used to do: Euridamia her melancholy was double, Cleorante was angry to see that Lycurgus should by his looks and words give out some expressions of jealousy, nor was Pisistrates in any joy, not only because he was a little gravelled between Cerinthe and Euridamia, but also because Lycurgus continued his affection unto Cleorante. As for Cephise, Ariston and myself we were so afraid to disoblige any one by laughing too much at all passages, that to avoid it, we put on faces of gravity and sorrow as much as possibly we could. But at last we parted, yet not without Lycurgus, who feigning some earnest business at Athens, returned with us, and was strangely troublesome unto us, though he was a man very well accomplished, yet we were weary of him, because he hindered us from laughing at all our observations. Moreover, Pisistrates and he being never in the same opinion, they were so sharp once in their arguments, as we feared they would have quarrelled. But at last, the Cloud being blown over, we came to Athens, and after we had carried the Ladies to their houses, were all parted. In the mean time, since Euridamia and Cerinthe were long absent, the love of Pisistrates to Cleorante did grow so violent, and he so accustomed himself to see her, to love her and none else, that it had been a very hard matter to have made him change his course of life: But Madam, it was very observable, that Cerinthe being returned to Athens before Euridamia, and hearing that Pisistrates stirred not out of Cleorantes house: That he made her many great Feasts, and that all the world believed him in love with her, she became the most indulgent friend that ever was unto Euridamia: For she writ unto her the next morning, and so continued every Post whilst she stayed in the Country, and certainly she wanted not matter, for not a day passed, but Pisistrates presented Cleorante with some notable diversion or other, or else that he had not some wrangle with Lycurgus: So that Cerinthe thinking (and with reason) that she could not get better information then from a jealous Lover; she treated Theocrites as kindly as she could, purposely to make him her Spy, and tell her all he knew of his Brother, colouring her curiosity with her desire of knowing all Cleorantes ways: So that Theocrite being very glad of such a Commission, did tell her, not only all he knew concerning his Brother, but all that he could imagine expedient to set Pisistrates further from her heart.  
Thus by this means Cerinthe did daily make great relations unto Euridamia of all passages between Pisistrates and Cleorante sending her a most exact description of every thing, even to the very lest circumstance, purposely to be revenged upon her, since she could not be revenged neither upon Cleorante nor Pisistrates; for considering that had it not been for Euridamia, she had captivated Pisistrates before he went unto the Baths, she was a most extreme ill wisher unto her, not that Cerinthe was of any humour of ever loving much, or grieving much for such a loss; but yet she was so sorry for it, so vexed, and so ashamed, as one may almost say, that without either love or jealousy, she carried herself, as if she had two passions at once in her soul. In the mean time, since the return of Cleorante, Pisistrates, took many occasions to speak of his love, and since he pleased her infinitely better than Lycurgus or any else, she did not treat him unkindly, and though she did not receive his affection so well as he wished, yet it was not out of any aversion, but only out of modesty and prudence; for certainly she did infinitely esteem him. Moreover Madam, you must not imagine Pisistrates one of these eternal sighers, who do nothing but pule and complain, and torment themselves; nor one of those who are continually talking of their love, and nothing else; but on the contrary, he never talked of it long, nor but in two fashions, either in bare Gallantry and mirth, or in making such earnest protestations, expressed in such affirmative terms and passionate, as there was no doubting of what he said, so sincere and vehement was he always in his discourse.  
In the mean while, as soon as Euridamia was returned out of the Country, Cerinthe gave her a visit, purposely to see whether the news she sent her had wrought her desired effects upon her cheeks and eyes: Yet she did not receive the pleasure of her hopes; for Cleorante being come thither, she seemed so fair that day, that I do believe both her Rivals would in their hearts confess they ought to yield unto her, and that Pisistrates had a good excuse, though they had some right to accuse him of inconstancy. However, though doubtless they knew that Cleorante was worthy of Pisistrates his love, yet they thought him unblamable, though to say truly, he was not; since he never had more than a good inclination to love them, but never had professed any particular affection unto either of them. On the other side, Cleorante discovering at last the thoughts of these two Ladies, she thought herself the more obliged unto Pisistrates, whose love she now received, both out of honour, and out of acknowledgement; yet in her talk to him, she did not acknowledge either that he loved her, or she him; and I do think that since the first time there was ever any Lovers, there was never discourse like that they had one day, and which Pisistrates told unto me the day after.  
For Pisistrates being one day after Dinner alone with Cleorante, protesting that he loved her beyond all humane expressions: Truly (said she and interrupted him) I do not think you know well whether you love me or no: For to tell you 〈…〉 uly, some days I think you love me much, and other days you make me believe you neither do, nor ever did love me: I see Madam (said he unto her) that you speak this only because you take delight to vex me: But Madam, let me tell you, that what you say in Rallary, I can say in seriousness: For truly I must confess (if I may without presumption) that sometimes I think you do esteem me, and I see in your eye a kind of amorous glance which bids me hope: But sometimes again, I think you to be absolutely indifferent; & therefore Madam you would do me the greatest favour in the world, if you would be pleased seriously to discover the secret of your heart unto me, that I may see upon what bottom I stand: Did I certainly know (replied she and smiled) upon what term I am in your heart, I could easily acquaint you upon what terms you are in mine; and to tell you truly, my thoughts do so absolutely depend upon yours, that I do not know whether I have any affection unto you, or only indifferency; and therefore I must first know what affection you have unto me, before I truly tell you what affection I have to you. The way to know it Madam, replied he hastily, is to examine all my actions▪ all my words, and even all my looks, and see whether all these do not tell you that I love you: For I do protest Madam, I will not go out of your Chamber until you have positively told me whether you think I love you or no, and told me also, how I am in your opinion. To testify that I will do you Justice (said she and laughed) I will examine all that you have done, and do you examine all that I have done, to the end we may both know what to think of one another: And indeed Madam, they began to speak of themselves, as if they had spoken of some in whom they had no interest, and to examine their own thoughts as really, as if they had not known them.  
But after Pisistrates had forced Cleorante to confess, that she had cause to think he loved her, yet she would not say she loved him, but said, that though she did think he loved her, yet he loved her only for himself, and that his affection was biased, and not uninterested. Ah Madam (said he) I am easier to be contented than you are, for I protest I should be so far from taking it ill you should love me for your own sake, that I should think it much more glorious to love me so, then if you loved me for myself only: You are so simple, said she, that I know not why I should answer you: You are so pitiless Madam (replied he) that I can say nothing, but tell you; That if you will not tell me upon what terms I am in your mind, I will do all I can to delude myself, and think that I am not upon such bad terms as I imagined. But Madam, without any further repetition of this conference. In conclusion they agreed not to hate one another, and Cleorante not point blank saying she loved him, yet made such a handsome choice of her terms, that she let him understand she was glad he loved her; yet they had many little jarrings, during which, he would seem, as if he would return unto Cerinthe or Euridamia, but he quickly turned again to Cleorante; and though he gave some minutes of jealousy unto Theocrites, he gave whole months unto Lycurgus. In the mean time, Cerinthe having a drafty wit, did so contrive the matter, as she infused some sparks of jealousy into Pisistrates, for she had got Cleorante to a Feast, and spoke not a word unto her; and the Lady who invited her kept the business very secretly. In the mean time, Lycurgus was the man who made the Feast, though Cleorante knew not of it, when she promised to be there, yet Cerinthe had not that full satisfaction which she expected: For Madam, though Pisistrates was for some hours a little jealous, yet out of a kind of pride, he would not seem to be so; for he was persuaded, that whosoever is jealous long, must of necessity have an ill opinion either of themselves, or the person loved. But Madam, the oddest thing in Pisistrates was, I made him confess that his jealousy was daily, and without any new accidents either from his Rival or his Mistress, he was daily and hourly jealous, more or less, according to the ebb 〈…〉 low of his humour. Moreover, the quarrels which Pisistrates sometimes had with Cleorante were so short, that he had no sooner declared War, but he negotiated for peace, and he was so accustomed to love Cleorante, and to see her, that ofttimes he would go unto her without any intention, and when he had business in another place: But Madam, to aggravate this accustomancy, as far as imagination can go, I must tell you it is certain, that the lessening of his jealousy was his accustoming himself so much to the sight of his Rival, that he was hardly jealous at all, and that which would have augmented it in another, did lessen it in him. However, though one single passion was not enough to oblige Pisistrates to hate his Rival Lycurgus, with whom Cleorante charged him to live civilly; yet two passions did unite themselves together, to move him unto it; for he understood that Lycurgus did afresh endeavour to stir up the old troubles of Athens, which had put all the Attic Country in division: So that ambition being joined to his love, Lycurgus became intolerable to him, and to oppose him both in the one and the other, he cajoled and bandled with those of his faction, who were no small number: For Madam, be pleased to know, there was always three Factions amongst the Attic people, which were always ready to rebel as soon as they found Commanders to countenance them: Those towards the Sea always made one body by themselves; those of the Plain made another, and those of the Mountains and Tradesmen did always unite themselves as soon as there was any division in Athens. But Madam, that which most perplexed Pisistrates was, that endeavouring to discover how Lycurgus cajoled amongst those of the Plain, he understood also that the Maritine parts were also up, but all his care could not find out what moved them thereunto. Besides this, there was another thing which did much disquiet him: For though he did much endeavour to reconcile himself with Megacles the Father of Cleorante, yet he could not oblige him to renew cordially with him, though he did live civilly enough: So that he knew not how, either to enjoy his Mistress, or to ruin his Rival. But his greatest fear was, lest Megacles should unite himself with Lycurgus, for if he had, than he had been unhappy both in his love, and in his ambition, since his Party would have been thereby more weak, and he should have lost his Mistress. You may imagine Madam, whether that Pisistrates had not business enough. On the other side, Lycurgus being resolved to get Pisistrates banished, purposely to send him further from Cleorante, he did secretly insinuate into the minds of the people, that Pisistrates aspired unto Tyranny; and Theocrites, set on by Cerinthe, did hinder him as much as he could. As for Euridamia, she being more prudent than Cerinthe, she dissembled her thoughts, & cured herself of her weakness by that of her friend. In the mean time I perceived Pisistrates had something in his mind which he would not impart unto me; yet he told me all that related unto Cleorante, but I could not see he had any reason to be unquet at those passages, but was upon rather better terms with her then ever; yet for all that, he would not discover the bottom of his heart unto me; and though I was the Confident of his love, yet I was not of his ambition; for knowing that I loved the tranquillity of my Country very well, he did not think I would approve of his thoughts. Furthermore, since he knew I was ignorant of designs he soresaw, that if once things came to extremity and Arms, than it would be no fit time to marry Cleorante: So that desiring to dispatch that before things were more embroiled, he went unto her and asked her leave, he might employ all the friends he had in Athens, to persuade Megacles unto his Marriage with her: As for Erophile, he was sure she would willingly consent unto it: And to prepare the mind of Cleorante unto his demands, he spoke unto her with as much tenderness as love itself could inspire, and so earnestly, that indeed the heart of Cleorante was moved; and she confessed that his affection had most sensibly obliged her, and would answer him as far as decency and modesty would permit: But when he pressed her to consent he might presently marry her, she changed colour: Alas Pisistrates, said she unto him, What do you ask? I ask Madam, said he unto her, to be happy: Say rather (replied she) you ask not to love me any longer, but voluntarily to lose all the sweets that that my conversation can give you: For truly Pisistrates, Love may go beyond the Grave, but not beyond Marriage; and therefore I am persuaded that whosoever would love always, ought not to marry the person loved; and there is no more reasonable obstacle to hinder the thoughts of Marriage, then to know one loves: Esteem in marriage doubtless is necessary, but there needs no violent passion: Love may grow between people who marry, and may last after their marriage, but it cannot long subsist, when as it is Love before Marriage; experience hath showed it a thousand and a thousand times, that fruition gluts; and therefore Pisistrates since you love me, and since I should be glad you should always do so, talk no more of marriage, at least stay until my Father will force me to marry another; for in that case, come what misery will, I had rather hazard the seeing your love die, then to live with any other than you: Your language Madam, replied Pisistrates, hath something in it, both so sweet and so sharp, that I know not whether I should commend your goodness, or complain against your rigour: Truly, said she, you have no cause to complain, since I do not entertain one disadvantageous thought of you: But I must confess, I am so fearful to see that change in you, which I see in all Lovers once married, that I cannot fear any thing in the world more, for all men that ever I saw, no sooner become Husbands, but they cease to be Lovers: And I have known some also, who have ceased to be civil unto those who formerly they adored, and who care not a straw for their mistresses, as soon as they are their wives. I know Madam said he unto her, that it sometimes happens as you say, but I am sure it will never happen so to me. So every one before they marry, think, replied she; and therefore you can give me no security of your affection. I must confess, said she unto him, that I am persuaded you will love me as long as we are in the same condition we already are: but I am persuaded also, that you would not love me either more or less, if you should marry me: yet I do not tell you, that I will never marry you, for I have already told you, that rather than marry another, and be obliged to break with you, I would hazard the losing of your affection. Moreover, though I were not in this mind, yet I would not advise you at this time, to make any such proposition to my Father, for he is of late so froward and unquiet, that I think it would be a hard matter to make any Proposition which would please him. Since this last reason Madam, replied Pisistrates, is full of solidity, I cannot gainsay it; but for the other, I will oppose it with all my strength, and protest unto you with as much sincerity as love, that whensoever I shall be so happy as to become your Husband, I shall then vow myself your eternal Lover. However, Pisistrates for all this, was forced to obey Cleorante, and not speak unto Megacles in a time when he was so melancholy, lest he should receive a perverse answer. But Madam, things being in this condition, Solon returned to Athens, where he was not sorry to find Pisistrates in love, because he hoped that passion would cloak his ambition. Yet he was extremely sad, when going to visit Euridamea (who as I told you was his Cousin) he saw Cleorante: For Madam, be pleased to know, Solon found her so prodigiously like a Daughter of his, named Policrite (who married unto a Prince of the Isle of Cyprus, called Philoxipe) that her mirror could not represent a more near & lively resemblance. Now Madam, the cause of his sadness was, because on a time when the famous Epimenedes was at Athens, he told him by a Spirit of Divination, that his wife who was then great with Child, should be delivered of a Daughter, and that he should not educate her at Athens, because if she lived there, he would be in danger of so much sorrow, as to see her make the Tyrant of her Country fall in love with her. So that Solon seeing Cleorante at Euridamea's, and seeing her great resemblance with Policrite, he was extremely surprised at the love which Pisistrates bore her; or he conjectured, and with reason, that since he loved Cleorante, he would also have loved Policrite, whom she so perfectly resembled; so that beginning to fear that Pisistrates would make himself Master of Athens, he began to have a vigilant eye over his actions. Yet he spoke not then of his fear, nor of the cause: but since that, he expressed himself unto many of his intimate friends. However, this famous man commended the beauty of Cleorante very highly: and as some told him, that his Laws had united the hearts of the Athenians a long time; he turned towards her, They have done you wrong Madam, (said he unto her) for I am persuaded, that to keep the peace of Athens at this present, is to have all the brave and ambitious Gallants to think of nothing, but how to Conquer your heart, and not to think of sowing seditions amongst the people; therefore (added he, and prepared to go away) I commit them all into your custody, in hopes to find them all more amorous than ambitious, and no other disorder in the Town, but between Rivals: And I do protest unto you (said he, and smiled) that if you do not inspire them all with the love of their Country, I will attribute unto you, all the evils they shall commit; and complain against you, more than they shall of your severity. Solon spoke this with such a noble Air, and so becoming such a man as he was, that none could comprehend that there was a double sense in his words; And Cleorante answered as unto a bare Civility, protesting unto him, that she had not so much vanity as to think she could do that which his Laws could not. However Madam, Solon went from her, and went away, in a deep study, for he had ever found Epimenides so true in all his predictions, as he extremely feared he would not fail in this. Moreover he was very inquisitive into the actions of Lycurgus, Theocrites, and Pisistrates; and understood how those of the Plain, those of the Seaside, and those of the Mountain, were up in Arms; so that he plainly s●w all humane prudence was most uncertain; for he now apprehended that the love of Pisistrates, of Lycurgus, and of Theocrites, was the true cause of all the Athenian Divisions, though it did not appear so in the eyes of the people, and consequently that he was in the wrong, when he rejoiced to hear that Pisistrates was in love, and that he had said, that as long as the Gallants of our City were slaves to the beauties, they would never think of becoming our Masters. The worst was, his Travels had weakened him, and his age would not let act with the same vigour for the common good, as formerly he had; for he had not strength enough to make speeches in public, yet he was as industrious as he was able to calm this storm, which threatened the common wealths, and in order to that he spoke unto all the Ringleaders of the parties, and addressed himself first unto Pisistrates, to persuade him unto quietness, and not to aspire unto any higher glory, then to be the protector of the Athenian Liberty. Pisistrates did outwardly receive the admonitions of Solon so well, that any other but he would have thought he had no hidden ambition in his heart, nor any further design then to oppose Lycurgus; yet old birds are not catched with chaff, nor could Solon be deceived, for he made no question, but either out of the hatred to his Rival, or love to Cleorante, or else ambition, he aspired to be Master of Athens; so that Solon used all the arguments that eloquence and reason together had most prevailent and persuasive to dissuade Pisistrates from it, who not directly opposing what he said, he assured him only in general without any particularising, that he would never do any thing which would hurt the Athenians, protesting that all his aim was to thwart Lycurgus. On the other side, Solon who knew the bottom of the business, did speak unto the Rival of Pisistrates, persuading him to think no more upon Cleorante, but to sacrifice that passion for the tranquillity of his country, aggravating so eagerly the grandeur of the crime in those who begin sedition in a state, as it was impossible for any man to say more: For (said he unto him) the fire which you kindle, will not extinguish when you would have it, and the heartburnings which are between Pisistrates and you, passing into the hearts of all those who follow your several factions, will divide Brothers against Brothers, Fathers against Children, Servants against Masters, and make so great a disorder in Athens, that you cannot choose but abhor your own actions, when you shall see the sad consequences of them. Moreover do but consider that one of these two must needs follow, you must either prove a slave unto your Rival, if his party prove stronger than yours, or else you must be the tyrant of Athens, if your party prove stronger than his: Judge then I pray in the choice of these two, Tyrant or Slave, it be not much better to continue a good honest Citizen. Cleorante (added he) is not the only fair one in all Athens: If you do but well consider all the miseries which fall upon a state divided, you will find the enjoyment of Cleorante (who loves your Rival better than she does you) will never recompense the vast number of crimes which are committed during the disorders which you have caused. The truth is Madam, Solon's arguments so wrought upon Lycurgus, as he told him, provided Pisistrates would renounce the possession of Cleorante as well as he, than he would cease being his enemy. But Solon knowing very well that Pisistrates would never be brought to that, he thought upon another expedient, which was to go unto Megacles, and persuade him to make a public declaration, that he would never give his daughter either unto Pisistrates or Lycurgus. But Megacles having some hidden design, received the persuasions of Solon so ill, as it was easy to see he had a share in the divisions of Athens; and indeed he discovered that it was he who was the Patron of the Maritine Rebels, but for all his discovery, things grew higher and higher. In the mean time Pisistrates was extremely perplexed to find out who it was that made the third party in Athens, for though Solon knew it, yet he told not him, conceiving better to have three revolted factions, than one; and he used all his wits to keep any two of them from joining, he could not apprehend that Pisistrates and Lycurgus would ever comply, because Rivals will never be of one side, but his fear was that Megacles should fall into one of them, yet after better information of things, that fear was also frivolous, for he understood that though Megacles would, yet the Maritine people would not consent, but forsake him; and the truth was, there was such a feud between the Maritine people, and the plains, as they would never unite, for being a duller sort of people than the other, and more mutinous; the Maritines have a fancy, that they are men who hold up the glory of Athens, and are able to do it by force; so that scorning the other, there can never be any good correspondency between them, so that Solon though not able to reunite all the City, yet had this consolation at least, that none of the three factions could correspond and unite with one another. On the other side, Cerinthe still put Theocrite upon Lycurgus, purposely to be revenged upon Pisistrates; an I since his gravity did better suit with that employment then with gallantry, his negotiation with Lycurgus better pleased him, then discoursing of his Love. Furthermore, Philombrotus who knew not the secret designs of Pisistrates, and who thought that he stirred only in opposition of those who disturbed the public peace, he went unto him, and offered himself with all his friends, and to acquaint him, that Megacles was the chief of the Maritine Faction; adding, that he was sure, they were more opposite unto him, then unto Lycurgus. You may judge Madam, how Pisistrates was surprised, when he understood by the Father of a Lady whom he loved not, that the Father of her he did love, was the Patron of a Faction opposite unto his: and what a strange Combat there was in his heart, betwixt his love and his ambition: At first, he would not believe it, but afterwards Philombrotus did so particularise things upon him upon his own knowledge, that he did not doubt the truth: He hath told it since, that his first thought was, to sacrifice his ambition unto his love, and to lay aside all faction; but when he considered that his Rival's Party was puissant, and that it was impossible to join his faction with that of Megacles, he thought it more expedient, that his ambition should serve his love, and so he would not contend any more with himself; yet making it a scruple of generosity, to make use of the Father of Cerinthe and his friends, considering upon what terms he was with his Daughter, he did not accept of that offer which Philombrotus made him, nor did he flatly refuse it, lest he should fall in with one of the either two Factions, and entreated him to give him all intelligence he could. But after he was gone, Pisistrates was extremely afraid that Cleorante should take it ill, when she knew the truth. However, he would not tell her, that he was of a faction contrary to Megacles, and Lycurgus both: But to take a middle Course, that Cleorante might not be incensed when she knew the passages, he employed one of his Confidents, to propound unto Megacles an union of their two Factions, though he knew it a thing almost impossible to be effected; but he did it only to have some excuse for himself, if Cleorante should offer to accuse him.  
And indeed, this Proposition unto Megacles served only to make him think that his ambition was the only means to satisfy his love: for Megacles told the man who made the motion, that he had no faction, nor did he think Pisistrates had any, but since it seemed he had, he would desire him to come no more at his house, because he would not have it said, he had any friend who was a troubler of the Commonwealth. You may easily imagine Madam, how sad Pisistrates was, when he was debarred from seeing Cleorante, especially when meeting him at a friends house the next morning after by chance, she told him that her Father had charged her not to see him, and asked him the reason of it: but after he had acquainted her with the Proposition he had made, and the cruel answer he had received: I beseech you Madam (said he unto her) be not so unjust as Megacles, and do not hate me. Certainly I shall not hate you, unless you give me cause (replied she) but let me tell you, I shall extremely complain against you, if you be an enemy to my Father: I wish to the Gods he would not bandy any faction in Athens; but since I cannot hinder him, I must conjure you not to oppose him. I do not desire you should unite with him; but I desire you to do any thing that may preserve peace. Alas, Madam, (said he unto her) since Lycurgus strives all he can to embroil the state, and ruin me, I know not what to say; all I can promise is, only to oppose my Rival without any thoughts of hurt unto Megacles: But withal, let me tell you Madam, That if Fortune do so embroil things, that I cannot enjoy you, unless I be the Tyrant of Athens, I shall endeavour it, rather than suffer Lycurgus to enjoy you. Ah Pisistrates, (said she unto him) these are strange expressions: my case is so (replied he) that the most innocent wish I can make is, that I were powerful enough to be revenged upon Lycurgus, and to force Megacles to let me love you: But as for him, Madam, I beseech you fear nothing, so will you only leave Lycurgus to my revenge. I cannot allow it, replied she, but content yourself that I do not defend him; carry yourself towards my Father, as you may not drive me to the necessity of never seeing you again, and of seeming to hate you, though I do not; for Pisistrates, deceive not yourself, but be confident that I will never become yours, without the consent of him who hath most due to dispose of me. Perhaps I have engaged my heart unto you a little too far without his permission; but believe it, I will not make good my faults by seconding them: And though I did love you more than I ought, yet I can take up and do so no more. Thus Madam, the meeting of Pisistrates and Cleorante passed. Much more had they to say unto one another, but since Cleorante came out without her Mother's knowledge, they parted sooner than they desired, and with much sorrow. On the other side, Cerinthe hearing that Philombrotus offered to comply with the faction of Pisistrates, she was exceedingly grieved; for since she had much contributed by the means of Theocrite, to make Lycurgus' powerful, and to animate him against Pisistrates, she saw she had transacted against her own Father, and consequently, wrought her own rain. But though to see her Father serve Pisistrates, was very much against her mind; yet she knew not whether she should forbid or command Theocrite to go on: for to tell him he should continue on as he doth, is to work her Fathers and her own ruin; and to forbid him, was to fortify the faction of Pisistrates, or at least weaken his enemies; so that she was as much perplexed as Cleorante, who had at least so much satisfaction as to know, that she had no hand in the disorders which were ready to break out.  
Furthermore, Theocrite very desirous to ruin Pisistrates, since thereby he was more in the favour of Cerinthe, and did his Brother service; yet he began to fear, that if Lycurgus ever married Cleorante, Pisistrates would then return unto Cerinthe, and so from his Brother's Rival, he would become his. As for Lycurgus, all his plots were how to ruin his Rival. But whilst the souls of all these were swelled with these tumultuous thoughts, I did sometimes visit Euridamea, who being cured of her weakness, did speak of things passed unto me with as much sincerity, as she did of changes present with confidence. At first, she thought that I knew of all the plots of Pisistrates: but afterwards I told her so seriously, that I was only the confident of his love, that she believed me, and talked to me afterwards, as unto one who loved the tranquillity of my Country; so we condoled together the miseries which we imagined it was like to fall unto. For every one whispered that some sad story was plotting, and which ere long would break out: and there was then such a strange dismaidness in the minds of all those who took none of these three sactions, that they could not endeavour the remedy of those miseries they foresaw. They employed whole days in telling one another all were undone, and that Commonwealth was ready to be ruined, but they went no farther: And whilst all the Factions did cavil with every one of their Parties, all those who were of no faction, locked themselves up in their own houses, unless they went sometimes to condole with a friend who was of their opinion. As for myself, since I saw Pisistrates was not willing to open his heart unto me, and knowing Ariston was the only Confident of his ambition, as I was of his love, I asked him no farther, nor did he impart any farther, not talking any more with me concerning Cleorante, because as the state of things than stood, he could not talk of her, but of other passages also, which he would not have me know, because he knew I was an enemy to all Novelty, and had often heard me say, that I had rather obey a Tyrant who reigned peaceably, then begin a War to ruin him. However Pisistrates being a man of huge parts, of all those who stirred in the Commonwealth he seemed least busy, yet acted as high as any other: 'Tis true, the Grandees of each Faction, had their meetings more in the night than the day, so that I can assure you, Pisistrates, Lycurgus, and Megacles, hardly slept all the while.  
Things standing on these terms, Pisistrates having resolved upon a conference secretly, with some new seditious persons who were out of the Town, he intended (after he had passed away most of the night in going from house to house, to make sure of his Faction) to go out of Athens in a Coach by break of day, and so he did, without any with him but one servant. But Madam, when he was about fifteen furlongs from the Town, he was set upon by four men, against whom he did so courageously defend himself, that they could not kill him, for they espied so many coming towards them afar off, as they durst not stay it, and seeing Pisistrates bleed so exreamly fast, doubtless they thought his wounds mortal, though they were not. But a Country fellow who saw the passage some hundred spaces off, did tell me since, that Pisistrates did do even miracles at that time: But he seeing himself all bloody, and perceiving he was not dangerously wounded, he would if he could, draw some advantage from the misfortune: so that taking his Coach, he went back to the Town, in a fit condition to move the people, for he was bloody from top to toe. And he came unto the Town very luckily, for there was a great number of people gathered together in a great place within Athens which he crossed over, all which were of his faction. So that when Pisistrates had told the people, that that his, and the Commonwealths Enemies, had brought him unto that condition: there began a great murmuring against Lycurgus and Megacles, amongst the people. Many of the two contrary Factions turned on Pisistrates his side: and the Object was so pitiful, and moved the hearts of the people so much, that in a quarter of an hours space, Pisistrates had abundance of men of all sides, ready to take up Arms in his defence. In the mean time, when he saw the people much moved, he went home to get himself dressed, but he was followed with a huge herd of people, who increased still, every one relating the accident according to his fancy or passion. Some said, Megacles wounded him with his own hands, other said it was Lycurgus, and others again that it was Theocrites: yet there were some who said that Pisistrates blooded himself, only to move the people to compassion; but his own party were so far from believing this, that they gave no faith to the witty quibble which Solon put upon him when he met him in that pickle, and said that he played the part of Ulysses in Homer but very ill, for you (said he) wound yourself to delude your own Citizens, but he wounded himself to deceive his enemies.  
But Madam, neither Solon nor any else was hearkened unto; and this wife Lawmaker did strive in vain to lay the storm, yet he did cause an assembly at Pritunea, the place where they used to consult upon public affairs: there he also consulted to see whether there was any remedy against so great a tumult: as for Lycurgus and Megacles, their care was to keep themselves from being surprised, and to purge themselves of an act that was imputed unto them; so that Megacles was at the Pyrean Gate in the head of a great number of his faction, and Lycurgus was by the Temple of Minerva with many of his friends. In the mean while the general Council being assembled, Ariston who was there, speaking very 〈…〉 emently against those who would have killed Pisistrates, and rehearsing all the good services he had done for the commonwealth, particularly the taking of Megares and Nysea, he said after all this, that it was but fit that the Commonwealth should allow him a guard for the safety of his person, which motion being approved of by the major vote, yet Solon did most eagerly oppose it by Orations unto the people with incredible vigour, yet all his opposition was in vain; and the Council not having the boldness of Solon, durst not be against the people, who said Pisistrates should have a guard, and that without any limiting him to any number; and indeed so he had that very same hour, and Ariston made choice of them. But Madam, you may well imagine in what a condition Cleorante and Corinthe were, during so great a tumult; as for the first of them, she was so much troubled as one possibly could be; for one of her women had told her, that her Father had killed Pisistrates, and that he himself was like to be so by the friends of Pisistrates, and therefore Madam, it may well be conceived how sad a person she was, whose Lover was dead, who though her own Father had killed him, and was also in the same danger himself, yet she was quickly better informed concerning Pisistrates; but since she heard he was wounded, and knew not what would become of her Father, she still remained much troubled; yet she could never believe that her Father would ever be a murderer, nor did she much suspect Lycurgus: and I am verily persuaded, that this wicked act was done by some resolute men whose zeal to liberty became fury; and Pisistrates himself was of that opinion. As for Cerinthe you may also imagine, that she had many disquieted thoughts, for she knew that Philombrotus was gone to Pisistrates, whose party she was an ill wisher unto, though she would not have Pisistrates perish in it: In the mean time the wounds of Pisistrates being but sleight, though he had lost much blood, he presently appeared in public, but he appeared with guards, whose number did every day increase, and hearing that Lycurgus and Megacles were treating together, and perhaps would unite, and make him lose at once both that sovereign authority unto which he aspired, and Cleorante also, he prevented them, by seizing upon a Castle which commanded all the Town. But Madam, since he thought no less of being Cleorantes Master, as Master of Athens; he gave order, that assoon as ever he was in the Castle, some men should go into the house of Megacles, and seize upon his Mistress with her Mother: but Eropbile, and Cleorante being quicker in their courses then the men who had that employment, they were not to be found; for Megacles no sooner heard that Pisistrates had seized upon the Castle, and that all his friends were up in Arms, but he thought of flying, and sent in all haste to his wife and daughter to come unto the Pyrean Port, where then he was, yet she did not obey him; for the tumult was so great in the Town, that her Coach could not pass, and therefore she resolved to take Sanctuary in the Temple of Minerva, where she might be safe, and where she and Cleorante stayed amongst the Nuns; and indeed there she was received with Cleorante, and she sent to acquaint Megacles with her resolution, so that since he could do no otherwise, he retired. Lycurgus for his part, he hearing that his Rival was Master of Athens, went to the house of Megacles to seize upon Cleorante, but not finding her there, he was grieved to the soul that his Mistress was in his Rivals power; and Theocrites was no less, since he was to be absent from Cerinthe by his going out of Athens: However, both Lycurgus and he had no other course to take, but to retire, for the dismay was so great through all the Town, as never was the like known; all the men who were of the opposite parties did fly with equal haste; those of the victorious party seized upon all the public places, and all the Citizens who loved peace, did shut themselves up in their own houses, and durst not oppose the loss of their liberty; yet Solon in the heat of this great tumult went into the streets, exhorting the people to take up Arms, and prevent their slavery, and shake off the yoke which would be imposed upon them; he chid them for their base tameness of spirit, and neglected no argument which might move them to oppose Pisistrates, but all was in vain, for the people were more willing to enter into fetters than take up arms for their liberty: So that after this Solon went home, and told all he met, that after all his endeavours he had gotten this satisfaction at the least, that he was the last man that would enter into the Athenian slavery; some of his friends advised him to fly, but he would not, saying, he could never serve his country in flying, but might happily by staying. In the mean time, though Pisistrates might well have rest satisfied with seeing his Rival fly, and all his enemies out of Athens, yet for two days he thought himself very miserable; for he thought Megacles or Lycurgus had carried Cleorante with them: but at last having discovered that she was in the Temple of Minerva, he went to visit her, assoon as he had taken all necessary orders for the security of Athens, and to let her see that though he had usurped Sovereign authority, yet he did not intend that his government should be Tyrannical; and he sent to ask permission to see Erophile and Cleorante, as if he had been only a simple Citizen: also he sent unto Solon, and assured him, that the alteration of Government should not change any of those Laws he had made, but that he would be the first who would observe them. But Sir, Solon answered Pisistrates so generously and sharply both, that one of his friends said he did himself wrong in speaking as he did; for truly said his friend, what do you trust in, that you should speak so boldly? In my age (answered he) for I have so short a time to live, that I hazard little in hazarding it; and I should lose much more if I should lose my honour, by flattering my old friend in his humour of Tyranny. In the mean time Pisistrates being then in a condition not to be denied any thing, the Governess of the Nuns in the Temple of Minerva consented to his request: 'tis true he saw none but Cleorante, for Erophile was not well. At first Cleorante made some scruple at seeing Pisistrates, but her Mother commanding her, to the end she might speak for her Father, she willingly obeyed. To give you an exact account of all these two said, Madam, is more than I can do, for they said so much, that I believe themselves would have a hard task to remember all; yet I understood that Cleorante received him very faintly, she chid him for his ambition, and said, had he been more in Love, he would have been less ambitious. Madam (said he unto her) you do not well understand things if you believe all you speak, for truly though I was weary of obeying so many bad commanders, yet I do protest, if Lycurgus had not made any attempts, I had rested in quiet: But Madam, when I saw myself in a condition to lose you, and to become a slave to my Rival, it was time to fly unto the last refuge: Moreover Madam, it was not long of me that Megacles stayed not in Athens, for I used all means possible to comply with him, and had I not known that he fell in treaty with Lycurgus, and that you were to be the hostage in the hand of my enemy, Athens had yet been in the unhappy condition of being governed by a rude multitude. However it be, said Cleorante, my Father is exiled Athens, he speaks of you as of his enemy, and looks upon you as a man who hath ruined the liberty of his Country; therefore without further examination of the matter, I require three things from you, first, not to attribute what you have done unto that affection you had unto me; the second, to let my Mother and me go out of Athens unto my Father: and the third, to content yourself with driving out your enemies, and not to take away the liberty of the Athenians. I shall think myself exceedingly miserable to deny you any thing Madam (answered he) but truly so it is, I cannot consent unto any of these, for truly I cannot without a gross lie say, that it was my ambition more than Love which made me Master of Athens, nor can I permit you to go out, since than you would certainly fall under the power of my Rival, with whom Megacles hath doubtless concluded the treaty which he began, nor can I put myself out of that authority which the Gods have put into my hands, since there is my only hope of moving Megacles, to consent unto my happiness, in letting you be the partaker▪ of it: So Madam, though I had no ambition, and though I were not persuaded as I am, that the alteration of government is advantageous unto the Athenians, yet my Love only is enough to desire things should be as they are; for to be serious, I had rather be the Tyrant of Athens, then to lose my hopes of enjoying you, or to see you in possession of my Rival. But to testify, that my love transcends my ambition, since you are so zealous for the Athenian liberty, I am ready to go out of it, upon condition it may be with you. Yes Madam, after I have made myself master of the most famous City in all Greece: after I have driven out all my Enemies, and put myself in a condition to make all the Athenians happy in governing them better than they were before: yet I will forsake all, provided you will follow my fortune, and let us live together in some Asian Kingdom: for I confess Madam, I have such an aversion against all divided Authority, that I had rather be the slave of a great King, then to be the greatest Citizen in any Commonwealth: and therefore Madam, it rests only upon you, what I must resolve upon. The remedy which you propose, replied she, being worse than the Disease I desire to cure, I will not accept of it, for thanks be to God, I have no hand either in my Father's misery, or in any of your actions: But I should have a great share in them all, if I should follow your fortune, without the consent of those who have a right to dispose of me.  
In the mean time, I have a great deal of reason to complain against you, for denying me every thing. Ask me any thing, replied he, which will not hazard the losing you, and if I do deny it, be it what it will, hold me for the basest of all men living. But Madam, if it do not conduce to the keeping of you, I cannot hearken unto it. Moreover, I beseech you Madam, let not this title of Tyrant which my Enemies have aspersed upon me, hinder you from thinking me worthy the being your slave, promising you to use all my endeavours to bring Megacles unto Athens: And I will ask no other condition, but his consent into my happiness.  
After this, Cleorante used all her arguments to persuade Pisistrates, not only as the Daughter of Megacles, but as a Citizen of Athens. But the love and ambition of Pisistrates being in that business inseparable, she could obtain no farther of him, but liberty to stay where she was, until Megacles changed his mind. But when Pisistrates afterwards asked leave to see her every day, she denied him, and said, she would not bring herself into suspicion of knowing his designs: and indeed she was in so good earnest, that as much a Master of Athens as he was, obey her he must; but yet as it was with an ill will; yet since he feared nothing so much as to displease her, he contented himself with hearing from her every day: And indeed, Pisistrates and Cleorante did carry themselves so prudently in their affections, that the General voice of all Greece did not attribute any love unto the usurpation of Pisistrates, nor unto the hatred between Lycurgus and him. In the mean, this new sovereign of Athens behaved himself with so much moderation, as if he had never desired any sovereign Authority, but only to make the Laws of Solon better observed, and to render Justice unto all according to their demerits. Solon also went often to visit this Great Man, and he confessed, that he wanted nothing, but the being borne the Son of a King, to have made him one of the greatest Princes in the world. And Solon afterwards said, that if the people of Athens could but forget that they been long without a Master, they might be the happiest people upon earth.  
Pisistrates so carried the matter, that Solon after assisted him with his Counsels; and an accident fell out, which made Pisistrates voluntarily submit to be punished for infringing one of his Laws. In the mean time he remembered the esteem which he ever had of Cerinthe and Euridamea, and highly favoured of all those of that Family. On the other side, Megacles and Lycurgus united themselves together, and so carried the matter by bribes, that one night, one of the Gates should be delivered up unto him: After which they surprised the Castle, and forced Pisistrates to go out of Athens, though he did as much as any brave and valiant man could. Thus the Conquered became Conquerors, and the Conqueror was the most miserable man in the world: 'Tis true, his Rival was not so happy as he hoped, for as Megacles did intend to call for his Wife and Daughter out of the Temple of Minerva, purposely to marry Cleorante the next day unto Lycurgus, Cleorante with her mother's leave (who hated Lycurgus, and loved Pisistrates) claimed the privilege of the Temple, which is a place inviolable for all those who retire thither. And Cleorante sent her Father word, she was resolved to stay there. Many men thought that Megacles consented to it, and would never have promised his Daughter unto Lycurgus, but because he stood in need of him. But however is was, Lycurgus might complain as long as he would, and press Megacles 〈◊〉 keep his word, yet Cleorante would stay in the Temple. In the mean time, Theocrite went to Cerinthe, and asked a recompense for having brought her designs so well to pass, but since the disorders of Athens did not please her, she entertained him as coldly as if he had not done what she had desired him. On the other side, Megacles and Lycurgus did so ill agree together, and their government was so Tyrannical, that they horridly hated each other, and so did all the people, insomuch as all the people said aloud, that if they must obey any one, it should be Pisistrates, and repent of the change: Megacles hearing this, and being advertised that Lycurgus intended to take Cleorante out of the Temple, and that he intended to get, Pisistrates banished for ever, and to render the ancient liberty to the Athenians, he was almost at his wit's end.  
On the other side, being retired with a great number of his friends about Athens, he was in a desperate condition: yet he was much comforted by the resolution which Cleorante had taken: but for all that, he was as much perplexed as any ambitious Lover could be when all succeeds ill: For my part, I being sick during the time of these disorders, I was of no side, but rested in quietness to see how Fortune would decide so great a difference. In the mean time, not a day passed, but some quarrel, or some disorder or other happened in some quarter of Athens; for besides the inclination of the divided people thereunto, certainly the friends of Pisistrates did much contribute to them: For my part, I understood that Ariston came disguised into Athens, and caused many commotions, in one of which Theocrites was killed; but it was very observable, that Cerinthe was so little grieved at it, that when Euridamea came to comfort her, she cruelly said, that she was glad of it, for she gained more by his death in losing his visits, than she did lose by losing his affection.  
But disorders increased every day Megacles and Lycurgus jarred more and more, and all things were in such a pitiful condition, as every one had great fears that the Town would be Cantoned, and the people fall to kill one another. In the interim, Erophile who wished with all her heart that her daughter were married unto Pisistrates, did not lose the least opportunity to effect it, and persuaded her Husband to comply with him: Megacles having no other side to take, considering the state of his affairs with Lycurgus, he complied with her desires more easily than she imagined; for Megacles knew, that though he should force his daughter to marry Lycurgus, yet he could never endure he should ever reign in prejudice of himself; nor was he ignorant, that being descended from Alemeon whom the Athenians never loved, it would be a hard matter for him to reign, considering the state of things: In the mean time, since be knew how to recant from that extreme aversion which he seemed to have against Pisistrates: some said, that to have a colour for it, he gave out that Minerva had inspired him with such a thought, and in order to that, he hired a huge big woman, who was very fair, to dress herself like unto Minerva, and to fit in a gilded Chair some few furlongs from Athens, that afterwards she should come unto the Walls at Sun-rise, which is the time that most people use to go and come out of the Town, and the four Trumpets going before her Chariot, she should tell every one that she was Minerva, and that she commanded all the Athenians to receive Pisistrates, and obey him. However it were, or whether this were true or no, yet it is most certain Madam, that a great talk went one morning about the Town, that Minerva had appeared unto many Athenians, and had commanded them to receive Pisistrates, and obey him: Megacles himself said she had appeared unto him aswell as unto others. This fancy working upon the spirits of people more than reason could, it united the people of the plain, them of the Mountain, and them of the Maritine places altogether; so that then all the people asked for Pisistrates, and those who some days before called him Tyrant, and had banished him as such an one, did now look upon him as a Legitimate Prince, ordained by Minerva. In the mean time Megacles sent to treat with Pisistrates, though Lycurgus opposed him, and the very same day that Pisistrates entered into Athens in triumph, his Rival went out at another Gate, and he was received with so many acclamations of the people, and such joy, as I could not choose but admire at the lightness of men: But to complete his happiness, he became both at one time the Lord of Athens, and possessor of Cleorante, whom the next day he married with much satisfaction, and within eight days he settled Athens in such a quiet condition, as a stranger newly come could never believe it was in such a pitiful condition as it was; nothing was to be seen but feasts and thanksgivings, all the discourse of the Town was upon the generosity, liberality and goodness of Pisisirates, for be was an honourer of all the Arts, and of them who practised them: He founded a huge Library at Athens, he gathered together the books of Homer, which time had a little disordered; he Married Cerinthe unto Ariston, who was fallen in love with her, and Euridamea unto a Cousin of Ceriuthe's, so that all the disorders which his love and ambition had caused, being appeased, Athens was more quiet than ever' and Pisistrates the happiest man in the world: especially in that his greatest Enemies confessed, that he did deserve his happiness.  
SIlamis having ended his Story, he was highly applauded by all his Hearers: After which, they discoursed upon the inconstancy of things, and the lightness of the people, who never speak of their own minds, which always depends more upon the opinions of others than their own, or else more upon their giddy fancies, then upon right reason. But since it was late, and since Cyrus intended to take his leave of Araminte before he reeurned to the Camp, he left Onesile, and went to the Queen of Pontus, where he found Anacharsis charmed with the solidity of her wit, to whom Cyrus also bad adieu very quickly, because his love required that he should go in all haste, to give orders requisite for the March of his Army. Yet he left her not before he had some discourse concerning Spitridates, and concerning Mandana, which so much taken up his mind, that he never wanted matter to talk of: However, Silamis being brave and gallant, he left Onesile and followed Cyrus, who seemed much obliged unto him, for strengthening his Army with so brave an accomplished man as himself.  
But this Prince was no sooner come to his Tent, than Hidaspes entered as Gobrias was with him. As soon as Cyrus saw him, he wondered where he had been, and at his long absence, for said he unto him, I was strangely amazed to see the King of Assyria without you, when after you had delivered him, he came unto me at the Tomb of Abradates, and told me he knew not what was become of you: and therefore you must acquaint me with all passages. Sir, replied Hidaspes, I shall say nothing of what I did with Arsamones, nor of the surprisal of the Castle, where the King of Assyria was kept, for I do believe you are not ignorant of them. But give me leave to tell you, that after this Prince was delivered, and we going towards Cames where we thought you were, and coming upon the Frontiers of Galatia, we went through a wood before it was day, for the King of Assyrias impatience, caused him to set out above three hours before Aurora appeared: so that wandering in this wood which was very thick, when the Sun rose, I was all alone by myself: and I had not gone above a thousand spaces, but I heard a noise on my right hand, immediately after I saw two women, one seeming to be mistress unto the other, in whose face much fear and grief appeared; so that going gently towards them, I saluted them as civilly as I could, intending to ask them, whether they stood in any need of my help. But sir, this fair lamenting Lady, gave me no time to do it; for knowing me, she spoke first, and asked help: as soon as she spoke, her voice made me know her much better than my own eyes, So that then knowing her to be the fair Arpasia, Daughter to the wise Gobrias, before whom I speak, I lighted hastily from my horse and went to her with all due respects: How (said Gabrias, and could not forbear) did you find my Daughter in the Wood, whom I left in a Castle with an Aunt, who hath lately writ unto me, that Arpasia was with her? Is Arpasia (said Cyrus) that Daughter whom I found with Gobrias, at the beginning of the Assyrian War, who I thought to be one of the greatest beauties in the world? Yes, sir, (Replied Hidaspes) the very same you mean, who no sooner saw me light from my horse, but she acquainted me in short, that she had been carried away by one called Astidamas, who being pursued by his Rival which had fallen upon him, was forced to leave her under a Tree with her woman. And whilst they fought with extreme animosity, she got into the thick of the wood unseen, and happily she found a Cave into which she entered, and stayed a whole day and a night there, during all which time, she still heard a noise: But never any stir since the Sun did rise, fearing lest some wild beasts and famine should force them out; they came to the high way side where I was, and covered themselves with leaves, waiting till any came whom they thought would help them, and they thanked the Gods for sending me thither.  
Is it possible (said Gobrias) that Astidamas should carry away my Daughter, the Son of my Sister in law, he who hath a million of Obligations upon him? and who could never commit such an act, unless he were the most ungrateful and basest man in the world? Yes sir, (answered Hidaspes) but he is punished for his crime, by another who is no less innocent than himself, for he was killed by a man of good rank, named Licander, with whom he was fight, when the fair Arpasia got into the wood: yet she was ignorant of his death still after she spoke with me, but came to know it presently after; for being in a strange amazement to imagine how I could secure her person, being alone, and having but one horse; as good luck was, as I was talking with her, an empty Coach came by, and talking with the Coachman, I understood that it belonged to a Lady of Quality, who had lent it unto one of her friends, and was returning back, and that this Lady's house was not above fifteen furlongs distant from the place; so that without more ado, I desired Arpasia to go into the Coach with her woman, and to entreat a lodging with the Lady who owed it, until some course was resolved upon. Since no better course could be thought upon, she willingly consented, and I promised such recompense to the Coachman, as he was very glad of the employment: So, the fair Arpasia went into the Coach, and I promised her to die, rather than she should receive any wrong. But sir, after we had gone three or four furlongs, we saw five or six dead men, and amongst them, Astidamas. The fair and sad Arpasia grew pale at the sight, who turning her head aside from this sad spectacle, she told me that her Ravisher was amongst those dead men: since he is dead (said I unto her) you need not fear him: Alas Hidaspes (cried she) though Astidamas be dead, yet all my Enemies are not. And indeed sir, she had no sooner said so, but a very handsome Man, followed by four others coming out of the thick Wood, no sooner saw her, but coming up to the Coach: Why Madam, said he unto her, do you shun your deliverer? If you will merit that name sir, (said she unto him) let me pass under the conduct of Hidaspes, and follow me no farther; for truly Licander, I would not be under your power. Since I have been a long time under yours Madam (replied he) you have no reason to fear me, but may well permit me to be your Guard: And indeed Madam, (added he, and looked fiercely upon me) I am resolved that a Persian shall not rob me of that glory, nor will I let the King of Assyrias Conqueror obtain that honour which you have denied me, since I have at this present more right unto it then he: since all the King of Assyria's subjects (said I unto him) are only slaves unto the Prince whom I serve, you have no right unto the Daughter of the valiant Gobrias, who is at this time under his protection: and therefore I must tell you, that I will not leave her, until I have conducted her unto the place where she desires to go.  
Since you are single, said he unto me, and I have company, I know not how to answer you; but I am sure you shall not follow me long. If the fair Arpasia do not forbid me (replied I) I will follow you as long you follow her: At these words Arpasia being so good, as to fear lest he should make use of the Advantage he had of me, and fearing also to fall under his power: she began to use all her Rhetoric to persuade him unto her desires, but all in vain. So that coming to a part of the wood, where were several ways, Licander would needs force the Coachman to drive the way he desired, and not that way which went to his Lady's house. And not being able to suffer the violence which this unjust Lover offered unto the fair Arpasia, though I foresaw my certain ruin, yet I drew my sword, and went strait to Licander, whom I slightly hurt in the left arm the first thrust I made. Licander standing in a posture of defence, did very gallantly charge his man to stand still, saying he himself would conquer me. But sir, he was so ill obeyed, that for all his charge, they fell all upon me at once; yet I was so happy and quick, that in charging through them, I wounded one so dangerously, that he fell amongst our Horse's feet: but yet I had three upon me, and Licander seeing one of his fallen, did not charge his men then from falling upon me; all I was able to do, was to wound another of my Enemies, for whilst I was making at a third, Licander gave me such a blow, that I fell down as dead: After which, I could only hear the cries of the fair Arpasia, and could not see any farther of the passages: Yet I understand since, that Licander forced the Coachman to drive the way he desired. In the mean time, my loss of blood, and my sorrow, was such, that I was not able to relieve Arpasia, that it made me insensible; and I returned not to myself, till some shepherds finding me in that pitiful condition, carried me unto that Lady's house, unto whom the Coach belonged. She being a woman of great virtue, she had a great care of me. But my mind running most upon Arpasia, after I had thanked her for her favours, I told her in short all the passages, acquainting her with the quality and merit of Arpasia, and desired her to send some of her servants and relieve her if possible: or if she had not upon a sudden men enough to do it, yet at least to send one to follow them, and know the place where the Ravisher carried her, confessing ingenuously to you, that I had then no thoughts of the Assyrian King. But sir, This Lady not being able to satisfy my first desire, yet she did the second, and immediately made choice of a witty and bold fellow, whom I informed which way the Coach took, and so away he went with intentions to follow, till he had lodged them in some place where they were likely to stay. After this Sir, I suffered incredible miseries, for my wounds being very great, and being in a place where the Surgeons were not very good, I was in a hundred dangers of death; yet I sent unto you Sir, but since you have not received my excuses why I did not follow the King of Assyria, certainly some accidents have befallen the messengers I employed. But yet (said Cyrus interrupted him) do you know no more concerning Arpasia? And have you no intelligence (added Gobrias) of the place where Licander carried her? yes Sir, replied Hidaspes, for the man whom the Lady sent after them, did play his part so well and cunningly, that he got himself some days into the service of Licander: But to be short, the man returned, and I understand by him, that Licander being heretofore acquainted with the Prince Atergatis in Assyria, had at first a design to choose the Court of Arsamones for his recreate, because Atergatis was there, but hearing that there were some disorders about the King of Assyria's liberty, he altered his mind, and embarked on the Euxine Sea when the Tempest did cast him upon Colchides, where he stayed, and where he said he would 〈◊〉 a long while; also the fair Arpasia falling sick, it was unlikely he could 〈◊〉 though he would. So Sir, hearing this, and since I had some hopes of being able ere long to ride on horseback; also presently after hearing of the Princess Mandana's carrying away, and of the King of Assyria's death, and also of your march towards the Massagetts, I confess my design was to go towards the place where Arpasia was, to see if I could get her out of Licander's hands, knowing Sir, that to do any service unto those you loved, was to do service unto yourself: But when I came there, I heard to my sorrow, that Licander resolved to go unto Thomiris, and pass over Araxis and indeed I followed him as far as I could, unless I would be taken by the enemy, and until I saw there was no hopes of delivering Arpasia, but by delivering the Princess Mandana; for I understand since, that Licander and Arpasia, are now with Thomiris. I am very glad replied Gobrias; that there is any hopes my daughter may be delivered by the Conqueror of Asia. I assure you answered Cyrus, that I look upon this advantage as one of the sweetest fruits of my Victory if I get it, and next after the liberty of Mandana, Arpasia's shall be my greatest joy. In saying so, Cyrus observed Hidaspes, and remembering that he had heretofore suspected him of being in Love with that fair one, he thought now that he was not then mistaken, for he thought that it was more than only generosity which made him so zealous; yet he had no leisure to make any reflection thereupon, for having many Emissaries abroad, and spies amongst the enemies, one of them returned and acquainted him, that the Army of Thomiris did daily increase, that Terez an old experienced Soldier was there, though very lame of his old wounds; that Octomasades was come up with those Troops which the Prince of the Callipices permitted him to levy in his Country, when his design was to make Ariantes King of the Issedons: and now since Ariantes had made his peace, he brought them for the Service of that Queen: He further told him that Agatherses came to him with a huge aid from Issedon; that the Scythian Kingdoms had also sent in very gallant Regiments, and that Aripithes came up with an Army the more considerable, because the Sauromites were a warlike people: But the worst of all was, Ariantes was sooner sound of his wounds then was hoped, and in all likelihood, the Fort of Sauromates would be sooner set upon then Cyrus could hinder them; and indeed the very next morning he had certain information that the enemy began the Siege; also he received intelligence at the same time out of the frontiers of Medea, that Ciaxares was dead, though this news did extremely trouble him, yet he thought it of such importance, as not to divulge it, lest it should damp the conrages of his Soldiers, so that he shut up all his sorrows in his own breast: In the mean time he took order for every thing, and desired Anacharsis to stay with the Queen of Pontus, and the Princess of Armenia, to the end if he had any need of him, he might send thither to him: But Cyrus knowing very well that bold resolutions ought to be taken up with very few, he conferred only with Mazares, and opening his heart unto him, and told him that though he did not call a Council of of War, yet he was resolved to give Battle; so that Mazares being of his opinion, and desiring no more but to know more certainly the Passes which Cyrus had not viewed, because his meeting with Thomiris hindered him to go far enough into the Wood: this Prince resolved to march as if the design only were to relieve the Fort of Sauromates, and that in the mean time Mazares should march on with some troops, not only to view the passes, but also relieve the place if he could, and enable Feraulas to hold his enemies in play awhile, and in order to this, the day following, the whole Army of Cyrus began to march, as if only to relieve the Fort of Sauromates, which truly was a difficult business, because this Fort, though near a Forest, yet stood in the midst of a plain, environed with wood, so rugged and boggy, that it was impossible any ways to avoid these long narrow passes: 'tis true, that side towards Araxes the wood was not above twelve or fourteen furlongs thorough, but after a very narrow and difficult pass, it did incessantly enlarge itself, and one might discover the plain, yet this way was very naught, for the plain being all bogs, by reason of abundance of Waters which flow from several parts, it was impossible to march in ranks, and would be very difficult to pass by files, it is true, in coming near to the Fort, all these difficulties cease, for the place is more sandy and dry, and there was room enough to draw up two great Armies into Battalia. In the mean while Mazares following the resolutions which Cyrus and he had taken, he marched so hastily with his commanded party, that the Prince Ariantes was but new set) down before the Fort of the Sauromats', when he came to the beginning of the Woo● Now did the Prince call into his heart the Love of glory, and the Love of Mandana, and resolved to carry in relief to the place, to the end Feraulas might hold his enemies in play, till Cyrus forced them either to fight or retreat; yet sometimes when he thought that the happy success of the enterprise would reflect more upon his Rival then himself, and that victory would make him the possessor of Mandana, he would give a stop unto his Horse and go softly; but thinking better upon it, and his virtue surmounting his Love, he recollected himself, and by extraordinary haste regained the time which that spark of jealousy caused him to lose, and indeed he did that, which almost none other but himself could do, and he was no sooner come unto the entry of the wood, but he drew a hundred and fifty horse out of that little party which he commanded, and appointed them to get into the Fort, and in order to that, he commanded them to go on the back side of the Wood, that they might be unseen, and expressly forbade them to attempt getting in, until they heard him give a hot alarm to the enemy's Camp with all his Troops, and then to take that time to get into the Fort if they could; and indeed Mazares did so happily pass the narrow way which the enemy could not have time yet to guard, that in the midst of the night he fell upon the main guard of the Massagetts, and so sharply, that he drive them as far as their Camp, where the Alarm was so high and general, that the hundred and fifty horse in ambush, did easily get into the Fort: 'Tis true, there was a small guard of Massagetts which did oppose them, but they easily forced through them, and into the place, into the which they entered without the loss of one man. In the mean while, assoon as Mazares understood by the signal, which the Fort of Sauromates made, according to appointment betwixt them, that the relief was entered, he began to think of making his retreat, and the sooner because he knew that all the Cavalry of Thomiris Camp were in arms: Doubtless this retreat was very difficult to be made, and certainly had been full of danger, if Mazares had not made extraordinary haste, but in retreating, day beginning to break, he observed the importance of the passage, and most prudently judged, that upon this difficult passage, did depend the good or bad success of the War. Thus the design of Mazares being happily executed as it was boldly attempted, he went to give Cyrus an account, who received him with a thousand Welcomes, commending him as highly for what he had done, as it was possible one Rival could commend another, as (maugre all his power) Mazares was unto him: But after Mazares had given him an account of his actions, Cyrus acquainted him, how since his departure he understood, that Thomiris had left Mandana in the Tents royal with a very strong guard, that the Princess of Bithynia, and the Princess Istrina had liberty to see her, that Thomiris was come into the Army, that Ariantes commanded under her orders, that the valiant and wise Terez (as ill as he was of his wounds which he received in the Battle which Agatheris heretofore got against Ariantes) was Lieutenant General of this Army; that all the flower of bravery amongst all the Massagetes and experienced Officers were there, and were hugly numerous: He told him farther, that Ariantes had divided his troops into six quarters round about the Fort of Sauromates, that he had placed his greatest strength on that side toward Araxes, and that he never offered to draw any Lines, or cast up any ditches about the Fort, because he hoped he should carry it in a short time: He told him that Ariantes had placed his courts of guard very judiciously, as he might judge by that which he found at the advenue of the narrow passage towards Araxes; adding that this Prince had so well ordered his sentinals and Scouts, that it was impossible to enter into the plain which was compassed about with Wood, but he would be acquainted with it. But after Cyrus had told Mazares all he knew, he added, that without more ado, he absolutely must give battle: and indeed, calling a Council of War that very hour, he told all the Officers of his Army what Mazares had done, and what farther he knew, telling them afterwards, that he was absolutely resolved to relieve the Fort of Sauromates: And to that end, he thought it absolutely necessary to advance in all haste unto that Pass, by which they must go unto their Enemies: for truly said he unto them, if the Massagettes should attempt to defend it, they will be forced to unfurnish their Quarters, and by consequence leave us one passage free to relieve the Fort; and if they do let us pass without fight us, we shall then get into the plain without any difficulty, and shall be able to give battle upon equal terms and advantages, Also (added he, to bring them to his opinion) though we should not then think it convenient to give battle, yet we ought to do as I say, since thereby we shall be still gaining several Quarters, and fortifying them, and thereby force the Enemy to change theirs, and leave us some passage to relieve the Fort: After this, Cyrus to bring them more easily to his mind, acquainted them with the intelligence he had revealed concerning the death of Ciaxares: adding, that this sad news was a great reason to induce them unto a quick dispatch of the business: for truly (said he with an admirable grace) his death if it be possibl●, ought not to be known unto our So●●liers, but upon the place of Combat, after the victory is gotten; at least I am sure, we must not suffer the Fort of Sauromates be taken in sight of our Army, but rather hazard perishing, then receive such an affront, and retard the liberty of Mandana by being too wise. Cyrus' having done speaking, all his Hearers were of his opinion, and Croesus himself was of that opinion also, though at the passage over Araxes, he apprehended much danger in hazarding battle: But since he thought that the Massagettes would be masters of the straight passage, since the Action of Mazares, and would dispute it, he did not oppose the opinion of Cyrus, because he thought it would never come to a deciding battle, but only some great skirmishes at the entrance into the wood, during which, they might perhaps put some considerable relief into the Fort; and so the whole Army not being engaged on this side the difficult passages, Cyrus himself would be constrained out of his own prudence to retreat, and not engage his Army to sight in disadvantageous Quarters. So there being no contest, Cyrus resolved that his Army should advance that very hour unto the place which the Inhabitants of the Country call the plain of Gelons, (because a people of that name were once heretofore there beaten) and the day following he marched strait towards the Enemy. But before he departed, he began to give out all requisite orders, to regulate the march of every Regiment, to distribute the several Quarters unto his Officers, to resolve upon the general order of the battle; and exhorted all his men to fight so courageously, that they might come off with Glory, from a business of so much danger, that all they had gone through before, were nothing in comparison it, by reason of those difficult passes where the Enemy was to be sought withal: 'Tis true, the joys which Cyrus saw in all his Troops when he departed from the plain of Gelons, seemed to presage a victory: for certainly, though all his Soldiers had been assured of victory, they could not have marched with more cheerefulnsse, than they did now in going to share in the dangers unto which the greatest Prince in the world was going to expose himself unto. In the mean time, Cyrus was resolved that his Army should fight in two Brigades: that these two Brigades should be seconded with a body of Reserve, which Hidaspes was to Command; that Aglatidas should be in the Head of the Infantry, that Croesus and the King of Hyrcania, should command the Left-wing; and Mazares under him, the Right; where the Prince Artamas, Intaphernes, Atergatis, Gobrias, Gadates, Mersiles, Intathyrses, Persodes, and all the rest of the Heroes, who had no employment, should fight near his person. But Cyrus, who was as great a Captain as valiant Soldier, he believed, because in all likelihood he should fight the Massagettes in those difficult passes, therefore it was expedient to line his Cavalry with some Infantry; and to that end, between every squadron, he placed a hundred Archers, appointing afterwards all the rest of the Archers to be the Guards of Croesus, the King of Hircanius Guards, and his own, also the Assyrian Cavalry to be upon both sides of the Right and Left wings. But to the end nothing might clog him, he sent his Baggage to the side of Araxes, and afterwards marched in the Head of his Army, which seeming to be guided by one soul in every part, came to the entrance of the Wood; and Orders were so wisely given, and exactly executed by all, that not one Soldier was to be an inch out of his rank. Cyrus began now to be in hopes of happy success, and the Idea of Mandana did so wholly take up his mind, that fears of any approaching dangers had no room in his thoughts. But whilst this great Prince was advancing with all possible Heroic heat, and employing all his Cares for relief of the Fort, Ariantes under the Order of Thomiris, was vigorously endeavouring to take it, before his Rival could arrive: And indeed he followed on so close, and assaulted it so often, that is is to be imagined, that without the relief which Mazares had gotten unto it, it could never have held out so long, as to give Cyrus' time enough to execute his designs: For it was so ill furnished with all manner of necessaries to sustain a Siege, that it was impossible for the valour of Feraulas to have defended it: Also Ariantes thought it so inconsiderable, that he would never trouble himself with making any works about it, though he had learned very well under Cyrus; how to make formal Sieges. Moreover, since the Massagettes have no Towns, but live all in portable Tents, Thomiris and Ariantes, could not get any information of Cyrus his March, nor of his Number: for all the people about Araxi, fled away as soon as Cyrus passed the River; so as there could not be any certain intelligence given, nor was the Army of Cyrus thought to be so numerous as they were: and they were ignorant of his strength, until they heard the Army was entered into the wood; and seemed resolved to pass through those straits, so as they were forced to be tumultuous in their resolutions, and knew not well whether they should defend the those passes, or expect their Enemy in the plain, and there end the difference by a decisive battle. Ariantes opinion was to give a stop unto Cyrus in these passages, and in order to that, to line the woods with part of their Infantry, and to back them with a good body of Cavalry, for by this course it was impossible that Cyrus should come to execute his designs: also whilst they were thus amusing his Army, they might easily take the Fort with a few Forces, for he had certain intelligence, it could not hold out above two days. The sage and valiant Terez; concurred with the opinion of Ariantes, Agatherses, Octomasades, and all the old experienced blades were of the same mind: But Thomiris thinking it better to fight Cyrus in her Country, then to defend these passes; she was not of their opinion, but said the design was dishonourable, and it was as good as nothing, for her Army to do nothing but take a poor Fort, since they were in the head of a puissant Army: she said it was much better for them to give battle presently, then to stay till the Massagettes were more informed of their Enemy's valour: And that it was more advantageous for them to fight far off Araxis, and in a plain in the midst of a Wood where the Enemy was ignorant of the passes, then near the place where they had a boate-bridge over the River. Ariantes yet opposed her as much as ever he could but she without any farther hearing or giving any reason, she told him peremptorily it should be so: and accordingly it was resolved, to let the whole Army of Cyrus pass into the plain without any stop or opposition. Truth is, though this resolution of Thomiris had not been followed, yet, they had been forced to take it; for whilst the interest of Thomiris and Ariantes moved them to different opinions; and whilst they were debating what to do, or not d●e, the Forlorn hope of Cyrus his Army, appeared close by the Massagettan Camp: so that then Ariantes seeing no way but to assemble all their Quarters, and to think of nothing but fight; and to lose no time, Thomiris and Ariantes sent in post hast to Aripithes to make haste, and join with them. But to omit nothing which a great Captain could do upon such an important occasion, you must know, that Cyrus, when he departed from the plain of Gelons, towards the entrance into the wood, he marched in battalia upon two banks, until he came to the entrance of the straight Passes, and to 〈◊〉 into nothing rashly, he sent Mazares to view them, and he made choice of him for that employment; because he had been already in the woods, when he relieved the Fort: But this generous Rival unto Cyrus, finding these passes defended only with a Guard of fifty Horse, he easily beat them off, and returned to tell this Prince, that he might easily be master of these passes, provided he made haste. So that now it was apparent there would be a battle, since the Enemy did not guard the Passes, and since Cyrus would engage them beyond the wood. Croesus' now was of another opinion, and used all his argument to alter the design. But Cyrus having told him in few words his reasons why he would fight, commanded him to go immediately unto those Forces which he was to command. The zeal which Cyrus had to fight, and quickly to deliver Mandana, was so high, that fearing something should be an obstacle unto his resolution of fight, he would not follow what the dictates of his prudence hinted unto him: but on the contrary, out of his excess of Love, and desire of glory, would needs advance so near the enemy, that it should be impossible to disengage himself from a general combat. 'tis true, since Myrsiles, Intaphernes, and Atergatis had their Mistresses with Mandana, they did not contrary a design which would hasten their liberty, nor did Artamas and Indatherses thwart it. Cyrus then having fixed upon this bold and generous resolution, he went with all the Cavalry of his right wing, unto a little hill which was near the enemy, and there he stayed: assoon as he was there, he dispatched order upon order to the rest of his troops, to make all possible haste after him. In the mean time, Cyrus knowing the rules of War very well, he also knew that his Love of Mandana, and desire of glory having drawn him so near the enemy before his army was joined, he had extremely endangered himself and all his army; for it is most certain, that if the Massagettes had at that time fallen upon him with all their Cavalry, it had been impossible for him to have withstood their force; but to carry the matter as well as he could, and avoid the danger in which he was with glory, this great soul stood in such a resolute posture, and so handsomely placed those few forces he had, that he wholly covered the top of that hill on which he stood, so that by this means the Massagets could have no knowledge of what forces he had behind, and not imagining that so inconsiderable a party as appeared, should ever advance alone so near them, they conceived that it was seconded with the whole Army, and therefore had no mind to give the assault: yet they did intend to charge through the body, to see what was behind it, and therefore they made several skirmishes, but all being with bad success, they gave over and rested, until they had assembled all their several quarters into Battallie. Chrisantes who was next Cyrus, wondered at his design, and was in perpetual fears till the rest of the Forces came up, for he plainly saw, that if Ariantes had known in what condition he was, he were utterly ruined; when he looked towards the enemy's Army, he saw them so hugely numerous in comparison of his small party, that it might well be said, Ariantes might have vanquished them with a wish; and when he saw the Forces of Cyrus so far off, that there was no appearance of them, he was even desperate: But at last, Fortune being resolved that this great Prince should never perish by an act of courage, wherein yet some prudence was, things happened better than his hopes; so that both sides staying till their forces came up, they both drew into Battalia: The forces of Cyrus passed the straits without any disorder, those of Thomiris came up and joined, and both sides chose their ground with equal advantage: That ground which Cyrus chose to make his Camp of Battle, was large enough to range his whole Army in that order he was resolved they should fight; indeed he had chosen a rising ground which looked over all the plain, especially from the marish grounds which was upon the left hand unto the entry into the wood, which not being thick in that place, his squadrons might well enough range themselves in it: on the other side, there was another rising ground opposite unto that which Cyrus was possessed of, of an equal height, where the Massagetts quartered, so that between these two armies there was such an equal descent, which made a kind of a little plain, as those who were experienced in the art of War did know, that the first assaulter was in danger to be overcome: Moreover, before the right wing of the Massagettes, by a little River, was a very high and thick wood, which reached to the bottom of the valley; so as it was to be imagined, that Ariantes to make use of that advantageous situation, would place there some Archers, which would extremely gall Cyrus when he came to fight. Thus you see what ground Cyrus and Ariantes chose for the two most warlike Armies in the world to fight upon, and where the possession of the rarest Princess upon earth was to be disputed: In the mean time they had leisure enough to post themselves, and did draw up in great order and quietness; for both being resolved to give Battle, they never skirmish, but thought only of the main Battle.  
Thus these two great Captains drew up their armies and forces as they came up, as if they had been agreed so to do; yet the truth is, the Artillery of Thomiris her Army, did much more hurt unto the Army of Cyrus, then that of Cyrus did upon hers, because she had many more of them; and indeed the invincible Cyrus could not display the wings of his Army, nor stretch out his Battalions without great danger of the enemy's Artillery and engines; yet his high resolution made all his Troops so stout, that Maugre all the mischief of these engines, they stood firm to their stations, though they saw many of themselves killed and wounded, amongst which the valiant Araspes received a hurt up-his thigh; but after incredible toil, and indefatigable vigilancy, Cyrus had the satisfaction to see that his whole Army had passed the straight passages, that the body of his reserve, after they had got out of the woods, went to possess the place which he appointed them, and that he had time enough to fight, since the Sun was above two hours high; so that though this valiant Prince knew very well, by reason of the descent into the valley, it was more difficulty to assault, then to be assaulted, yet his impatient zeal of fight for Mandana's liberty, and his own glory, persuaded him, that it was not advantageous to give his enemies any longer time to make good their ground, but that it was much more glorious to assault then to be assaulted.  
So that always using to follow the dictates of his own great heart, when they were not flatly against the rules of prudence, he gave orders to advance and fight; yet for all this and much against his mind, he altered his intention, by reason of such a strange accident as was like to have proved fatally sad unto his whole Army, and cast him into such a danger, as all his valour and prudence could not repair; for the rash headlong valour of the King of Hyrcania, had like to have caused such a misfortune, as was not possible for him to foresee, for since the left wing of Cyrus his army was towards the boggy grounds, this Prince could not believe but that it was there secure, and that the enemy would make no attempts upon it, so that he himself was always in the right wing, as in the place where he expected most danger: Moreover since he knew himself to be the Soul of his army, and would trust none but himself with things of highest importance, he was extremely busy in observing the motions of the Massagettan Army, that he might regulate his designs accordingly: Croesus for his part seeing there was nothing like to be attempted upon the left wing which he was to lead, he came to be with Cyrus, and relied wholly upon the King of Hyrcania: but this King being extremely vexed that Croesus should be preferred before him, because he thought him to be a vanquished King, he had a great desire to show some high exploit in his absence; also he bore an ill will unto Mazares, because he thought Cyrus by his means treated Croesus so well, and bearing a huge envy unto him for that noble enterprise of relieving the Fort of the Sauromates, he resolved to perform some such glorious act, as should transcend all others.  
In these thoughts he imagined, that if the left wing which he was to command could cross over the bogs, he should be able to do great service, by getting behind the Wood; being persuaded that the Massagettan Army being in fear of Cyrus, could not oppose his design: so that being prepossessed by his passions which tyrannised over his heart, he never considered the dangerous consequences of that march, but went towards this marish ground with all his Cavalry, and a great part of his Infantry, not so much as sending Cyrus any word of it. Thus by this rash attempt, which was against all military orders, he did hazard the glory of the greatest Prince upon earth, and likewise endangered the loss of Mandana's liberty for ever. Cyrus who knew nothing of what the King of Assyria had done, had given the general order to march toward the enemy, and being always accustomed to be immediately obeyed, all the several bodies of which his army was composed did even begin to move, when he was acquainted with what the King of Hyrcania had done; however, he no sooner heard it, but without any useless complaints which could not remedy so great an evil, he caused his army to make a halt, and went himself with incredible haste to set things in order again: But in his going, O how vexed was he against that Prince, and what disturbance was in his thoughts, who one minute before was full of hopes to conquer, and now in danger to be conquered, and that easily: and indeed, during this cross conjuncture, Cyrus had reason to fear that the Massagettaus would take advantage of this great disorder; for a huge Army might be seen upon a sudden to stagger, and one might here see the Massagettans found their Trumpets and beat their Drums, and move in Battallia, as if they intended to fall upon the Army of Cyrus.  
Now did he think the dismal answer of the Sihill would be fulfilled; that he should infallibly fall into the Power of Thomiris: That Mandana's Liberty would be lost, and that his Rival would presently enjoy her. Yet since his great soul did not sink under the burden of this injury, he bestirred himself to remedy the disaster; and to that end, he caused some Troops of the second Brigade to advance, and supply the place of those whom the King of Hyrcania had carried away and left void. But though Cyrus did bestir himself with as much Prudence as quickness; yet certainly, if Ariantes had then assaulted the Army Cyrus, that Prince who never before had been Conquered had now lost the Victory, and perhaps hIs life. But the Heavens did more favour him, then to let him lose his Glory by the fault of another. And fortune, who uses to favour great and Heroic attempts, would not let the Massagettans see the advantage which was offered them, for they did not perceive what the King of Hyrcania had done: And the incomparable Cyrus had so quickly filled up all the void places which those Troops who went into the bogs had quitted, that not one of the Commanders of Thomiris Army did ever observe it; and the motion of their Army was caused only because they would enlarge their Battalia, and make room for their second Division to draw up more conveniently; So that making a stop within four hundred Paces of Cyrus his Army, it was evident they had no design to fall on. On the other side, this great Captain, desiring at any rate to reduce things into right order, did send to the King of Hyrcania, such express and positive orders to return in all haste with his Troops, and caused it to be spoken so earnestly in the presence of his men what danger the whole Army was exposed unto, that whether he would or no, they would obey: and so they did; for the Troops which he conducted, did so quickly obey, and crossed the bogs so hastily, that they were presently on their first ground. Thus by the wise conduct of Cyrus, the whole Army was in such order as he desired, before 'twas night. This Prince had so much Command over himself, that he received the King of Hircanias excuse extremely sweetly, lest if he had not, he should not be so well served the next morning, as he desired to be. Yet he was vexed to the soul to see this cross adventure had retarded fight: But since there was no remedy, he took care for the safety of the Camp, as Ariantes did for his. So that both securing themselves, by several Courts of Guard; A hushed silence was in both these huge Armies which were overshaddowed with night: yet the common darkness was lessened by reason of many fires which the Soldiers made in both Camps, which were so near each other, that those who stood upon the hills a little distance off, could not perceive any interval which parted them: But the wonder was, the night was not disturbed with either true or false alarm from either side; but all were in as calm a silence, as if it were in the most solitary desert: yet the Camp of Cyrus saw through the Enemy's Army some artificial fires, which those who defended the Fort of Sauromates did continually cast up, which made it manifest that they were assaulted; and that the silence which then reigned was not a silence of peace, which would not be broken after Sun was up, unless by the harmony of Birds. Truth is, there was not a soldier in both Armies which did not certainly know that there would be a general Combat the next day: for the situation of both Camps was such, as was equally impossible to retreat without the danger of defeat by being forced to fight in disorder and confusion. For being both enclosed within a Plain compassed about with wood, one might well say that both Nature and Fortune did contribute unto a necessity of fight. But Cyrus, being incomparable in all things, did teach his men by his own example, that brave men must expect great dangers in silence, & without unquietness. Therefore as soon as he had visited all the Courts of Guard, which he had placed for the safety of his Camp: he passed the rest of the night in a Tent, which stood in the head of his Infantry: he commanded also that they should wake him, an hour before day; as if he had thought his desire of Glory not enough to do it: yet his men could not obey him; for as hasty as they could be, he was before them. And Mazares, Myrsiles, Intaphernes, Atergatis, and Artamas, were no more sluggards than that valiant Prince whom they followed. But though the night had been hushed and quiet, ye Aurora was tumultuous: The fires of both Camps extinguished as the stars did; And there was then in both Camps a noise composed of so many several noises, and such an Echoing Murmur as all the field was filled with it. The Birds themselves, (except such as live upon what death allows them, and always follow Arms) did forsake the Woods all about: and as the night spoke the soft language of Peace, the break of day spoke in the thunder of War, with as grim as it looked; yet had something of delight in it. In the mean time, as quick as the Sun's Course is, yet Cyrus had given his last orders before it appeared in our Horizon: and gave them with so much judgement, and made those who received them, to understand them so well, as if he had inspired both spirits and hearts fit to execute them: his whole Army moved together in an instant all at once, and kept such evenness, as they came close to the Enemy without the least disorder, though they went with such an impetuosity, as the presence of Cyrus used to inspire into all his Troops; and which without any rashness, only made their vigour and impatience of fight to appear. In the mean time, on that side towards the right wing, there was a tall and thick Wood, which the valiant and experienced Terez had lined with a thousand Archers, who began to fight; yet found he not that advantage which he expected: for Cyrus foreseeing that the Massagettans would not leave that place unlined, he caused a party of Horse to fall upon that thousand Archers, and placed some foot also amongst his horse, between every squadron. So that these Archers being vigorously charged, they were forced to yield: yet saved not themselves by flying, for they were every man of them killed upon the place where they lay in ambuscado. But the prudence of Cyrus moving him to think that his Troops might be squandered in the Wood, he commanded Mazares to wheel about the Wood to the right hand, with his first brigade, to prevent that disorder. So as this Generous Rival obeying him, Cyrus in the head of the second brigade, and towards the left side of the Wood he advanced to the Enemy, with all the Gallants of his Army: and advanced with the same valour, wherewith he had vanquished others. In the mean time Mazares, who was as valiant as amorous, and who was well knowing in the art of War, wheeled about the Wood without any disorder, and to lose no time, he caused the body which he commanded to draw towards the right hand, to the end he might assault the Massagettans on the flank, whilst Cyrus assaulted them in the Front.  
The ambitious Octomasades who commanded the left wing of the Massagettans, was extremely surprised, when contrary to his expectation he saw himself assaulted on two sides; for he was confident in the thousand Archers which Terez had placed in the Wood, through which he knew any must pass before they could come and assault him on that side: yet for all his surprise, he behaved himself like a man of courage: and though he might be taxed with want of a little foresight; yet could not be accused for want of valour; And indeed he did very gallantly resist some squadrons which assaulted him: but without success: For as there is nothing so dangerous as to alter the orders of Troops, in the face of a terrible Enemy. So upon the very first shock Mazares broke many squdrons of Thomiris; So that the Troops of Octomasades tumbled one over another as soon as Cyrus charged them in Person; and fled with so much precipitation, as never was the like disorder seen.  
But since th' is valiant Prince knew that flying Enemies are already overcome, he never followed them; but desiring to find a more noble subject unto his valour; he appoined Mazares to vanquish the Cavalry which he had already squandered, lest they should rally again; and went himself straight unto the Enemy's Infantry, against whom he did even miracles, as afterwards you shall hear; But that you may better see, how victory follows Cyrus and none else; It chanced that whilst he had put to flight all that stood in head against him, and thought it not fit to follow them, and whilst he wheeled about his squadrons against the Massagettan Infantry, not one of his men being out of Rank, he conceived himself able to go behind the Army of Thomiris, and advantageously fall upon that victorious wing which had routed Croesus, whose Brigade indeed was the deciding point of the Battle.  
Thus it may well be said, that his Prudence and his Valour were almost equal gainers; and forced Fortune to render Justice unto the equity of his cause; & he routed them. However the eternally renowned Cyrus did not quietly enjoy this greet glory which he had gotten and well deserved: for since his Rival was yet living, and Mandana not released, he● thought himself not at all happy. Yet he was joyed to hear that his intelligence concerning Ciaxares was not true; yet those reports did not rise without some ground: for doubtless, the King of Medes was so extremely grieved at this last carrying away of Mandana, that he fell so extremely sick, as all in Ecbatan feared his death, and all the Kingdom thought him dead. Cyrus was not joyed at this news only, because he loved Ciaxares, though he had held him Prisoner; but also because the Princess should not be grieved at her Father's death at a time when she was deprived of all consolation, and loaded with all miseries. And that she might hear nothing of it, he made continual skirmishes upon all favourable occasions.  
But after Cyrus had entirely defeated the left wing of his Enemies (as I told you had assaulted the Infantry of the Massagettans, and assaulted them in such order and vigour without the least disorder in his own, he also routed the Infantry of Callipides; those of the Issedons; and quite defeated those of the two Scythian Kings.  
But when he was in this glorious condition, wherein he might well hope to be quickly Conqueror, he saw upon a sudden the pittifull-state unto which his left wing was brought; and plainly saw, that all did absolutely depend upon those Forces which were with him. So that to lose no time, in following those whom he had already Routed; he thought only of Conquering those, who had Routed his men. So that after he had by his looks put fresh hearts into his men, he forsook his new got Victory and went to fall upon that part of the Army of Thomiris which had routed his; and finding them all careless, and in such a negligence as Victory useth to put them into, who know not how to use it after it is gotten, he entirely defeated them without much pain. And so it happened, that those who escaped the Victory of Cyrus by flying, were met withal by Mazares. Thus the illustrious Cyrus had the glory to vanquish those, who vanquished his; Entirely to defeat the two wings of his Enemy's Army; and to have vanquished a great part of Thoniris her foot. There remained now, none but a huge body of Infantry to fight with, which being composed only of Massagettans, were placed near the Artillery of that Army: and who seemed to stand in such a resolute Posture, that it was easy to see that they would defend their lives and liberties, with the last drop of that blood; the valiant Terez commanded this body: but being very lame by reason of the former received wounds, he could not ride; but always was carried in a little Chariot. This old experienced Captain, being thus in the head of these Massagettans, Cyrus' assaulted them; and he made the more haste, because he understood by some Prisoners which were taken, that the Prince Aripithis was coming up with a Puissant Army of Sauromates, and that he was already in the Wood; also understanding that Mazares (who was in pursuit of those whom he routed) had not met with Aripithis, he thought it best to fall on this Enemy before the other was joined. Yet he had but few horse with him, for they were all busy in Pillaging after the last Victory. But for all that, or without staying for the body of his Reserve, he courageously charged the Enemy, though he had but few horse to back him. But after he had beaten all the several bodies of Thomiris Army, and not finding Ariantes, he charged this in hopes of meeting with him. However Terez seeing Cyrus come in with such fury, yet moved not: but commanded his men not to draw an Arrow until all their Enemies wree within less than Arrow-shot; But when Cyrus was within that distance, Terez that old Soldier, opened his Battalions, and gave such a volley from their Engines, and Bows, that the Air was obscured, and the Army of Cyrus extremely galled; and if the extreme valour of that Prince had not held up their hearts, those who vanquished others had now been vanquished themselves. But as good luck was, Terez had no Cavalry to repulse them, and so since he could make no advantage of their disorder, they did not recoil: but Cyrus did so enharten them, that he led them on again. But Terez having time enough to charge his Engines again, this second assault had no better success than the first. And it was the third time before the Conqueror of Asia could break these fierce Enemies, though he did things which were absolute Prodigies; and though the Princes with him did signalise themselves by a thousand acts of courage. Yet all this resolute valour of these Massagettans, was useless to them; for Cyrus having caused the body of his reserve to advance; and some other Troops whom he had sent in pursuit, being returned, he compassed about this valiant Infantry on all sides. So as these courageous Massagettans, having no way left but to render themselves, and since they might do it with honour, they made such signs as those use who demand quarter, and the illustrious Cyrus desiring to save the lives of such brave men, advanced towards them to take their words, and to give his; but since he advanced without making any sign of giving quarter, they thought he came to assault them, so that discharging their engines and Arrows afresh, all those who followed Cyrus, saw that Prince in such imminent danger, that out of their loves to him, they fell upon these valiant Massagettans without any orders, and so assaulted them on all sides at once, that they quite broke them, and dispersed their Battalions: In the mean time, Cyrus moved with a generous Passion to see so many brave soldiers like to perish, his action was as glorious, in striving to save them as it was a little before in killing others; for maugre all the tumult and confusion, he ran into the midst of the Conquered, and Conquerors, crying as loud as ever he could that quarter should be given to the Massagettans, menacing with heroic fury, all those who helped him to get the victory, if they did not pardon the Conquered and obey him. This command was no sooner heard, but presently the Soldiers of Cyrus ceased killing, and the Massagettans charmed with the clemency of their Conqueror, threw down their Arms, and flocked all about him, looking upon him then as their Protector, whom a minute before they fought against as their enemy: Indeed their was not an Officer, who did not desire the honour of rendering himself unto that Prince, and not a common soldier who at least longed not to come near him, and they seemed not sorry for losing the Battle, since so great and clement a Prince had gotten it; and their actions were so significative to express the high thoughts they had of this Hero's clemency, that words needed not to express them; for maugre the tumult which could not be appeased in an instant, they acknowledged that their joys to see their illustrious Conqueror did much comfort them for being Conquered.  
In the mean time, Cyrus knowing that Conquerors must never sleep in the Arms of a Victory, as soon as he had saved the live of these valiant Massagettans, had given Orders for the safety of the Prisoners, and had commanded to have a care of the body of the valiant Tlerez, who was killed at this bout, he intended presently to Rally his victorious Troops, purposely to relieve Mazares, in case he had met and were repulsed by Aripithis; and to go himself and fall upon the Prince of Sauromates, if he durst come out of the Woods unto the Plains. But as he was busied in Rallying them together, Mazares who had been in pursuit of his Enemies, arrived, and acquainted Cyrus, that Aripithis not daring to engage him in the Plain, kept still in the Woods, where he had received into the narrow passes, the Troops which he had broken; adding, that for all this, he pursued them hastily, and understood by some prisoners taken in the Woods, that the Forces of Aripithis which had not fought, were retreated in such confusion, that one could hardly discern them from those who defeated them. But can you not learn from those Prisoners (said Cyrus, after he had in few words commended Mazares for what he had done) the reason why I should not meet with Ariantes all this day, though I have most carefully sought for him? nor can you not learn where Thomiris was during the fight? or in what place the Prince her Son fought? As for Ariantes sir, replied Mazares, you were not likely to meet him, for whilst you sir were defeating the Left-wing of his Army, he fought in the Right, and routed your Left-wing: so that whilst you were assaulting his Infantry, he left the wing which he commanded, to help those whom I pursued; but seeing he could not, and knew by those whom you routed, that you had vanquished his victorious wing; he went to join with Thomiris, who stayed in that part of the wood where Aripithis was to come. So that seeing no likelihood of victory, they sent Orders to those Forces which were before the Fort, to retire, and they themselves also are retired: Aripithis staying far in the wood with his forces, I did not think good to engage him in the narrow Passes, but came to you sir, to tell you, that there is none who can dispute the victory to you, but as for Spargapises I know nothing. Mazares had no sooner done speaking, but Cyrus desiring to teach his men by his example, that all blessings come only from heaven, he fell down upon his knees, and looking up to the Sun, which is the adored Deity of the Persians, he gave thanks for the victory: Thus he was seen victorious in the midst of a field full of dead and dying men, under the homage of his valour unto the God whom he adored. All his Troops after his example did the like, and every one according to the Religion of his Country, did the like gratitude for such a signal victory: indeed never was any more complete, the whole Army of the Enemy was vanquished, not a squadron unscattered and undispersed. Few of the Officers, but what were either killed or prisoners: the valiant Terez died in the head of that courageous Infantry which fought the last: All the Enemy's Engines and Batteries were taken, and served for a Trophy of Glory unto the Conqueror; their Baggage enriched all the Soldiers of Cyrus his Army; and in testimony of this great Conqueror's victory, he encamped in the Enemy's Camp; but his greatest glory was, that Myrsiles, Artamas, Intaphernes, Atergates, Gobrias, Gadates, Indathirses, and all that were at this great days work, did publish aloud, that Cyrus alone won the battle.  
And it is most certain, without any flattery of him, that the prudence by which he guided his valour, did get him the day; for had he not restrained the impetuosity of his courage, and the forwardness of his Troops, when he had broken the Left-wing of his Enemies, things had not succeeded so happily. For Croesus' having led on his Troops with a little too much precipitation, they were presently routed; not but that he did signalise himself upon that occasion, and showed much courage; but yet after he had received a great wound in his right Arm, and was carried out of the fight, he had the sorrow to see that wing which he commanded quite put to flight; many battalians of his Infantry torn in pieces, all his Engines taken by the Massagettans; and indeed to have seen all his men perish, had not the body of Reserve advanced in the Areare to their relief. Thus one would have said, that the victory had been on both sides; for the Right-wing of Cyrus, where he himself was, did rout the Left-wing of Thomiris: and the Right-wing of Thomiris, where Ariantes was, did rout the Left-wing of Cyrus.  
But whilst this double victory was on either side, the Infantry was not idle; for that of Cyrus advanced against that of the Massagettans. After all, the most pleasing of his thoughts upon this occasion was, to imagine that the noise of his victory would reach Mandana; and that she would thank him for what he had done to deliver her.  
As he was thus enjoying the sweet fruits of his victory, in thinking upon his Princess, Chrisantes came hastily to him, and told him, that one of the Prisoners who had the honour to be taken by his own hand, was the Prince Spargapises. How? (said Cyrus) the Son of Thomiris my Prisoner? Yes Sir, (replied Chrisantes) But those unto whom you committed all the Prisoners in guard, having observed that this Prince whom they knew not, had made more endeavours to escape then any of the rest, and seeing that they had a great number to guard, they bound him for the more security; but a Massagettan who had seen me heretofore with you at the Tents Royal, not being able to endureth Son of his Queen to be in that condition, and considering that I could not know him, because he was at Issedon, when you Sir were with Thomiris, he acquainted me who he was, in hopes of better usage: but Spargapises hearing and observing that I understood his language, he called unto me: Since I cannot conceal myself (said he unto me) I pray let Cyrus know how his men use me like a slave, and I desire so much favour from him, as to be treated as a Prisoner of War, and not to be tied up as I am. This Prince had no sooner said so, but going to him, I endeavoured to let him know that you would be extremely sorry for the usage he had received, and I would presently have caused him to be unbound, but he who had the chief command of the guard not being there, the Soldiers who understood not what that Prince said unto me, would not lose him, so that I came in all haste to acquaint you Sir, that you may give orders for it. Cyrus no sooner heard what Chrisantes said, but he imagined that Mandana would be loaded with the same chains Spargapises was, and that Thomiris would revenge upon her the hard usage her Son had received, so that being both grieved and vexed at what his men had done, though he was very glad of such a Prisoner, he sent Hidaspes with Chrisantes to cause him to be delivered, and to bring him to his Tent, commanding them to tell Spargapises, that he had rather have been bound himself, then to see so great a Prince as he in such a condition.  
Hidaspes and Chrisautes, according to the orders of Cyrus, went to Spargapises, and unbound him with their own hands, after they had told him what Cyrus had said: As long as they spoke, this young Prince (who was very lovely, though of a surly deportment) did hearken to them without any interruption, but he harkened unto them with such a fretting look, as made it seem he took his misfortune with much impatiency, so that desiring to comfort him, they added unto what Cyrus had also charged him with a Letter to Doralissa, Feraulas another to Martessia; Hidaspes and Gobrias desired him to inquire very carefully whether a Lady came unto Thomiris, whose name was Arpasia, conducted by a man whose name was Licander. Adonacris also writ by him unto Agathirses, who he knew was with Thomiris, and thereby moved him to compose things as much as he could: And Anabaris also writ unto all his friends which he had in that Court to do the like. Thus Ortalgues was charged with so many different commissions, that he stood in need of all his wit to acquit himself well of them all: Mazares had a good mind to send one unto Mandana, but he Mastered himself, and contented himself with thinking upon her, without moving her to think upon him. In the mean time, Cyrus talked a long while with Anacharsis in private; after which, that sage Scythian went with the Envoy of Thomiris, who went next the Chariot which carried the Corpse of Spargapises: But assoon as they were gone, Cyrus gave himself wholly to fit his Army for an advance towards the Tents Royal, in case Thomiris did not change her mind, as there was no great likelihood she would. In the mean time Cyrus was in such a miserable condition, as no signs of any victory was to be seen in him. Thomiris and Ariantes suffered incredible torment of mind; and Mandana, though a Captive, yet had more sweet minutes than they all had; for since the fame of Cyrus his victory had reached her ear, maugre all the oppositions of Ariantes, she was extremely well satisfied, and talked merrily with Doralissa: and Martessia. The Princess Istrina, and the Princess of Bithina, were joyed beyond meafure, for they verily believed that it was advantageous for them that Cyrus should be Conqueror; and the fair Arpasia, whom Licander had brought unto Thomiris, was in the same mind.  
In the mean time, Ariantes used all his endeavour to Rally that Army which Cyrus had Routed: and gave all requisite orders for securing and guarding the narrow passes in the Wood, that his Rival might not advance towards the Tents Royal, until all the Forces of Thomiris were joined. Aripithis who bore a deadly hatred unto Cyrus, because he was persuaded, that if Thomiris had not loved him, he should have been happy; therefore he endeavoured all he could to give a stop unto the Victories of that Prince. Yet he wished with all his heart that Mandana were out of the Power of Thomiris, and his mind was so ravelled that he knew not himself what to wish. Since his Troops did not yet fight, he stayed at the entry into the wood, to stop Cyrus if he advanced. So it happened, that when Spargapises was killed a Prisoner escaped, for this accident made such a noise, as the Prisoners were more carelessly guarded; their soldiers lurking some nights in the woods, at lest came to the place where Aripithis was. This Prince knowing he had been a Prisoner unto Cyrus, asked him what news; The soldiers having but a confused knowledge of Spargapises death, said, that that Prince was taken: That the soldiers of Cyrus bound him, and carried him into a Tent separate from theirs, and that a little time after it was said he was dead, Yet adding afterwards, that the soldiers of Cyrus said he killed himself. Aripithis desiring no more, then to drive Cyrus out of the heart of Thomiris, made use of this report, to that end; Not that he did suspect Cyrus would ever kill Spargapises: but knowing that Thomiris was of a violent spirit; and that the tale of this soldier was something probable, and enough to make that Queen think that Cyrus had treated her son very ill; he moved this soldier by large promises of recompense, to tell Thomiris the same tale he told him, and to choose his time when he should be present. At first, this soldier dorred at it: for the valour and clemency of Cyrus having gained his heart, he was unwilling to infuse any suspicions of cruelty into Thomiris. But at last, Aripithis telling him, that it highly concerned Thomiris to know it, and joining menaces with his promises, he undertook it. So that as soon as Aripithis came to the Tents Royal and was with Thomiris, this soldier presented himself, and told the Queen what he had told Aripithis: to wit, that the Prince her Son was taken Prisoner; that they bound him; that he was carried into a Tent by himself; and that presently after it was reported he was dead, which made such a hurley burley, that in the interim he escaped. Thomiris no sooner heard this from the soldier, but Aripithis added, that he knew as much from two others, though he durst not tell her. Is it possible (cried out Thomiris) That my Son should be dead? Dead by orders from Cyrus? Is Cyrus capable of such a bloody Act, against all the Laws of Honour or War? Is his hatred of me so high, as it makes him violate all manner of Rights? Since so, I must and will be revenged. As she pronounced these words, one came and told her, that Anacharsis was come with the messenger she sent to Cyrus; and brought the body of the Prince her Son. She no soooner heard this, but all in a fury, she went out, and passed from Tent to Tent, until she came unto one which opened into a great Plain, as if she would herself go see whether this was true or no: But as soon as she came into this great Tent, she saw the Coffin in which the Prince her Son did lie. This sad object both grieving and amazing her, and her mind being also highly incensed to think that the man whom of all the World she loved best, should kill her Son, she was almost stark mad. She no sooner saw the Coffin, but after such a sad cry; as would have tendered a heart of stone, she addressed herself unto Anacharsis: How durst you (said she unto him with eyes full of fury) bring me any thing from the murderer of my Son? who certainly would never have sent me his Corpses, but because he hoped it would be my death. The Phrase you give Madam unto that great Prince who sent me to you, doth so ill and so little suit unto him, (said Anacharsis to her) that I am forced to interrupt your Majesty, and to hinder you from wronging the Generous, and most illustrious Prince upon Earth. Ah Anacharsis (cried she) I must interrupt you: For I cannot endure to hear a Prince commended who has treated my Son so ill, who caused him to be bound like a slave, and who has most inhumanely stabbed him. I beseech you Madam (replied Anacharsis) be pleased to receive the truth from my mouth, and hearken not unto those Lies which are belched out by the Enemies of Cyrus. For believe it Madam; confidently believe it, that Cyrus never treated Spargapises ill: But on the Contrary, sent in all haste to unbind him; and was grieved to the soul when he heard that young and generous Prince had stabbed himself, as soon as ever he was unbound. Since I was not in the Tent where that unfortunate Prince died, replied she, I cannot directly tell the passages: But I am sure that in all likelihood, Cyrus caused him to be killed. For he was bound, and none of the Prisoners besides; he was carried into a Tent by himself: and as soon as two men came to him from Cyrus, his death was presently published. Also though it be as you say; yet Cyrus is not innocent: for though my son did not die by any order from him, yet the rigour which was used to him, did cause his death: and therefore I charge you to say no more in his behalf; but command you to tell him from me, that I declare eternal War with him: That in revenge of my son's death, I will loaden Mandana with more Irons, than that unfortunate Prince carried. And that within a few days I will send him back the Corpse of that Princess whom he adores, in the same Coffin which brought my Son. As she said so, the Prince Ariantes coming to her, and hearing these words, he grew pale with fear and wonder; So that his love of Mandana moving him, he was necessitated to justify his Rival, lest the violence of Thomiris should become dangerous. Also she had no sooner pronounced terrible words, but Ariantes spoke unto her with as much reverence as sorrow: you know Madam (said he unto her) that Fate hath brought me into that condition, as I can never be a friend unto Cyrus: but have many reasons to hate him; Yet for all that, honour bids me tell your Majesty, that I can never believe that Cyrus did either use ill or kill the Prince Srargapises; for he is one that stands more upon his glory, then to have his hand in any base act; and I must tell you Madam, that Mandana being in your hands, it is not credible he should ever do such a thing. I know (said she unto him) that this Prince had no reason for it, but I know better, that howsoever it was, he was the cause of my son's death, and if I cannot be revenged upon him, yet I ought, and will upon Mandana, and therefore (added she, transported with fury) I take it ill you should set limits to my vengeance, and justify the murderer of a Prince in presence of his Corpse, and unto whom you should have been subject. For Heaven's sake Madam (said Atacharsis then) stifle all these thoughts, and let your reason surmount your sorrows; for I am most confident, that to morrow you will repent of this days thoughts. I have already told you (replied she) that I will hearken no more unto you; yet tell Cyrus, that if within three days he will come and put himself into my fetters, I will spare Mandana's life, if he will not, I will take my course, and in lieu of seeing her in triumph, as he hoped, he shall see her in Spargapises Cosfin. Anacharsis and Ariantes seeing her so incensed, would have said something to appease her fury; but abruptly left them, after she had given three commands. The First, to set the Corpse of Spargapises in one of her Tents, in the hands of Religious men: the second to double the guards upon Mandana: and the third, that Anacharsis should depart that very minute, and not speak unto any one living. And indeed this wise and victorious Scythian, was forced to obey this unjust Princess, and carry unto Cyrus the saddest news that ever he received, since Mazares told him at Synope, that Mandana was drowned.    
The end of the Ninth Part.   

ARTAMENES, OR THE GRAND CYRUS. THE TENTH AND LAST PART.  

BOOK I.  
SINCE Ortalgues was not with Anacharsis when he had audieence from Thomiris, because he was busied in discharging himself of those Letters which he took upon him to deliver; Those who were to see Anacharsis depart that very hour from the Tents Royal, never thought upon him: So that Anacharsis with those who waited upon the Corpse of Spargapises, went away without Ortalgues. But when Anacharsis came to the last guard of the Massagettans, which was at the straight passage in the wood; and began to think upon the Gulf of sorrow which the soul of Cyrus would be plunged into, to reflect upon all the miseries of this life, and to consider the sad consequences which do commonly follow all violent Passions: How happy did he think himself, in that he had wholly subdued all his passions unto his reason? and that he was above the reach of fortune, in scorning all that she was able to do unto him, and in applying himself only unto the love of virtue, and study of Philosophy; yet he stood in need of all his wisdom, to keep himself from murmuring against the gods whom he adored, for exposing Cyrus unto so many disastrous adventures; But his greatest care was, to find out such words as might sweeten that message which he was to deliver unto him from Thomiris: yet that labour was saved; for this revengeful Princess imagining that Anacharsis would not deliver her message in such terms as she expressed, did send an emissary of her own unto Cyrus; not only to see that her message was fully delivered, but also to know his precise answer. So that though this envy from Thomiris did set out two hours after Anacharsis, yet making more haste than he did, he overtook him, before he came to the Fort of Sauromates, where Cyrus was. Thus this wise Scythian had not power to lessen his sorrows, by concealing a little, the fury of Thomiris; for he was sure that this messenger would speak her message in her own words. However, this great and miserable Prince no sooner knew that Anacharsis was returned with a messenger from Thomiris but his heart and spirits did begin to beat a turbulent and disordered pulse: hopes and fears did successively raise and deject him. There was then present with him, Mazares, Artamas, Atergates, Intaphernes, Hidaspes, Araspes, and Aglatidas. But though much inquietude and impatience appeared in all their faces; yet it was easy to discern, that Cyrus and Mazanes had such a curiosity to know the business of this envey from Thomiris, as could not possibly proceed but from one and the same passion. Indeed, they had both of them such a desire to hear how that Queen received the news of her Son's death, and were so afraid lest she should have some revenging resolutions upon Mandana, as they expressed their sorrows and their fears in every wrinkle of their faces. They did communicate their sadness and impatiency by their very looks: Though Mazanes did still strive as much as ever he could to hide some part of his resentments, purposely to hide his love from his generous Rival, with whom he neither could nor would dispute for Mandana, yet he had much ado. But at last Cyrus commanded that Anacharsis should enter, and the messenger from Thomiris to ●●ay in the next Tent until he was a little instructed what to say unto him. Come wise Anacharsis, (said Cyrus to him, as soon as he appeared) how has Thomiris received you? Alas Sir, (replied he and sighed.) I would the fidelity that I owe unto you would permit me to disguise some part of that Princess fury from you: But since you must know it, and since this messenger will not mince it, I must tell you, that this unjust Queen did receive me so unworthy both of you and herself, that even the very worst is to be feared, and nothing that is good is to be hoped for Alas Anacharsis (cried Cyrus out) so there be nothing to fear concerning Mandana: Let fortune do her worst, any way else, and I will freely abandon myself unto the fury of Thomiris: But what's her grief? and what unjust revenge does she draw from the death of Epargapnes? Sir (said Anacharsis then) since it is not impossible but her mind may change since I left her, I conceive it fityou know what this messenger will tell you, before I impart what she commanded me to say unto you, for upon second serious consideration, I cannot believe she can continue in such unjust thoughts, but will even abhor her own injustice. Since you will not tell me what Thomiris said (replied Cyrus) you give me some cause to think that she does intend the most horrid cruelty in the world; And that she intends to loaden the Princess Mandana with the weight of her Irons. Anacharsis, being desirous to make him fear the very worst, did return him two or three (something) indirect answers; to the end that fearing the worst, he might apprehend less fears, afterwards. So that Cyrus imagining, that perhaps Thomiris intended to put Mandana to death broke out into such sad expressions, as Anacharsis thought it time to tell him the truth: and so in few words he acquainted him, that Thomiris did accuse him for killing her son; and commanded him to tell him, that if he did not render himself within three days under her power, she would send back the body of Mandana in the same Coffin, in which he sent the body of her Son. Yet to your comfort Sir (continued is Anacharsis) I must in all tell tell you, that the Prince Ariantes does all he can to justify you in the opinion of Thomiris, and you may be assured his disposition is such, as that he will oppose the fury of this incensed Queen, as much as ever he can. Alas Anacharsis (cried out Cyrus in a sad despair) nothing can stop the revenge of such an humour as, Thomiris is off: And, I see myself in the saddest condition of any man in the world. For my particular (said Mazanes with much sadness) I am persuaded that Thomiris for her own interest will not put Mandana to death. But I am fully persuaded (replied Cyrus) that she will; only be revenged upon me, unless I will ruin myself: And I am fully resolved to do it, rather than hazard this most excellent Princess. However I must hear what the messenger from this cruel Queen will say: Then commanding he should enter, this Massagetan told Cyrus, that Thomiris fearing Anacharsis should not fully deliver his message she sent him, to let him know that if within three days, he did not render himself unto her, she would put Mandana to death, and send him her Corpse. Will you unjust Queen, (replied Cyrus sternly) that within this three days she that have my answer: and tell her also; that if she offer any violence unto the Princess Mundana, I will not pardon one of the Prisoners who are in my hands; and laying aside that respect which hitherto I ever bore her, though she was my enemy, I will most hotly pursue her, until I have revenged the Princess whom she shall wrong; Yet I will hope, that you will find the mind of the Massagettan Queen changed when you are returned to her; and that she will repent of her Injustice and cruelty, against a Prince who never offended her: But once more, I charge you to tell her, it is her best to take heed of injuring the Princess. Mandana: assure her, it concerns the lives of all the Prisoners which are, or ever shall be in my power. After this, Cyrus having dismissed the messenger, he was a while silent, considering what to resolve upon. At first, he thought it best to march immediately to the Tents Royal, to force the passes; and in the head of his Army, to save the life of his Princess: but afterwards considering that the more he pressed upon Thomiris, the more reason he had to fear Mandana, and than the nearer the Massagetan Queen was unto her ruin, she would the sooner hasten Mandanas, he knew not what to resolve upon. But as his great heart advised him to fight, so his love persuaded him, rather than to hazard his Princess, to put himself into the hands of Thomiris: Provided she would release Mandana, yet since it was not likely she would release her, though he should put himself into her power, he rejected that thought as well as the rest. In the mean time, considering the state of things, he must either submit himself her Prisoner, or endanger the life of Mandana. So as not knowing what to resolve upon, his mind was so turbulent, as not being able to enclose his sorrows in his own heart; for heaven's sake (said he unto all the company) tell me each of you, what you think to be my best course, and what I should do, not to hazard the life of my Princess? But I beseech you, consider only her, and never care what becomes of me: Advise me what I shall do to save her, and never consider my Army, nor my Conquests, nor my life, for I am so far from all these considerations, that I do not value my own Glory, in competition of her safety. And though it be a shame for the Conqueror of Thomiris to take her fetters upon him; yet I am most ready to do it, unless you can find out some other way to keep my Princess from perishing. I know there's none amongst you who dare tell me, it is requisite to receive fetters from the hands of a Queen whom I have conquered, but unless you find me out some better expedient, I shall tell it unto myself: For my part Sir, (said Anacharsis) I conceive the best expedient is to draw the business out at length, by returning a dubious answer, and so gain time for the Prince Arcantes either to persuade Thomiris unto reason, or else till he get himself into a condition able to give a stop unto her violences. Alas wise Anacharsis (said Cyrus) It seems you are ignorant of the height of that passion which possesseth me, since you think it possible I should love, even but a few days, in such a cruel incertainty. The truth is, (added Mazones most sadly) minutes wherein the life of Mandana is feared, se●m very long unto those who are nearly interested in her. Since I am well acquainted with the power of Love, replied Intaphernes, I do easily understand your meaning: but to speak unto the business (as I do think) I can never believe that Queen who had never made war, but only to make herself loved, will ever give so great a provocation of hatred unto him of whom she desires to be loved, as this, to put the Princess whom he adores to death.  
Since Thomiris is reported to be of a most hasty and violent temper, replied Atergatis, what you say is no security for Mandanas' life: But my greatest hope is in the love of Arcantes: for since his passion hath been so high as to make him forget his duty unto the illustrious Cyrus: and so violent as to attempt so bold an act, as to carry her away before his face, doubtless he will be as forward and ingenious as to preserve Mandanas' life, and to find out away of stopping the violence of Thomiris. Though he should not, replied Hydaspes, yet I cannot believe that Thomiris will offer to make any attempts upon the life of the Princess Mandana: For being freshly defeated.  
It were the most senseless piece of imprudence in the world, to incense her Conqueror, by any such cruelty, and therefore I cannot believe she will ever offer it. Since she receives fresh forces from several places, replied Araspes, the consideration of the Battle lost will not hinder her revenge: But, as the Prince Atergates most wisely said, Ariantes will give a stop and doubtless oppose her with good success: for his Cause will appear so just, that I do believe all the Subjects of Thomiris would turn Rebels, if she should command them to put the Princess Mandana to death. For my part (said Aglatidas, and addressed his speech to Cyrus) I am very well acquainted with all the resentments that, either love or jealousy can infuse, and I cannot believe that the Massagettan Queen will ever put the Princess Mandana to death, but only gives out this thundering threatening, to keep you Sir, from advancing towards her, until her fresh forces be come up, and joined unto the rest of her shattered Army. I must confess, if she were too hard pressed upon, despair might perchance move her unto any thing: And I do believe that if you were in her power, the life of Mandana would be then more in danger than it is: But as the state of things stands, I cannot think she dares revenge herself upon a Princess, whose death would turn all rational men living to be her enemies. I see, replied Cyrus, that you give me your opinions, of what I am to fear or hope for, but I do not see that you tell me, what I ought to do; yet something I must do: I am engaged to answer this unjust Princess; and I must answer so as may not endanger Mandana. The proposition which the wise Anacharis made, replied Artamas, seems to me most expedient, for a dubious answer will give you time to argue with this furious Queen, and will give the Prince Ariantes also leisure to contrive the safety of Mandana. Oh Heavens, (cried Cyrus out) unto what a miserable condition am I brought? since I must expect the safety of my Princess from a Rivali whom I would have killed, and who must perish unless I perish myself: No no, I cannot rest in this condition: I must use more violent remedies unto the misery which torments me: For though I should give an ambiguous answer unto this unjust Princess, yet after all, I must make it clear, and still return unto the same point where I was. 'tis true Sir, replied Anacharsis; but to bring you unto my opinion, let me tell you Sir, than to stop the execution of any wicked act, especially an act of cruelty, there needs no more but to defer the first motions of it, for I am confident that there are very few people in the world who are so extremely wicked, as to c 〈…〉 e long obstinate in the intentions of any unhuman action Moreover, be ple 〈…〉 consider that Thomiris is not naturally wicked: The fury that is now in her mind is but a stranger, and therefore its likely, that if one give her leisure to examine the business she will not do what you do fear, since it is a thing opposite to her own interests. For if Mandana were out of her power, what surety had she, if she should fall into yours? whereas, she having her, she can make her peace when she pleaseth, and whensoever she is pleased to restore that Princess she is able to disarm you: Therefore Sir, let it not too much trouble you: Do all that Prudence dictates unto you, and leave the rest unto the gods, who will never suffer so virtuous a Princess as Mandana to die a death so tragical. Alas, wise Anacharsis (replied Cyrus) As great a confidence as I have in the Justice of the gods, yet I dare not trust them with the life of my Princess, for their ways are above the reach of all men: and we do so often see the innocent become miserable, and the wicked prosperous, that all Mandanas' virtue, is no security to me against the injustice of Thomiris: yet I will follow your Counsel, and when the time comes give such an answer as you advise. After this, Cyrus seeming as if he desired to be alone, all the company retired, and left him at liberty to digest his own sorrows. Yet they were no sooner gone, but this terrible menace of Thomiris coming into his mind, it did so discompose all his thoughts that he knew not what to resolve upon, and sometimes he could see no way but to put himself unto the power of the incensed Queen: for when he fancied Mandanas' body in Spurgapisies Coffin, his reason roved and th● sad imagination, made him think Mandana really dead: yet his love suggesting many 〈…〉 multuous thoughts, he no sooner resolved upon one thing but he presently condemned it, and since he could find no way which was infallible safety for Mandanas' life, he could not stay long in any one thought: and the niceness of his ●assion made him think that Mandana had great reason to upbraid him hereafter if he did not put himself in Prison to release her: But the greatest difficulty was how he should be sure of her safety, if he did assume her Chains: for Thomiris would not release her until he was in her fetters, and there was not reason he should assume them before she was at liberty. But alas (added he) this unjust Princess did not say she would release Mandana if I put myself into her power, but only said, that she would not put her to death: Fie, fie, cruel Thomiris (pursued he) can you threaten a Prince so cruelly, who when he could have killed you, did let fall the point of his Sword? and who out of his respects to you, did injure his love? unjust Princess! Can Mandana be in your power and you not love her? Can you think me culpable for being faithful to her? Can you know her and threaten her life? Is it possible any should be so cruel as to obey you, if you should command them to take away her life? yet Anacharsis heard this dismal menace from your own mouth: and I have heard it from your Emissary. After this, the soul of Cyrus being sadded with this dismal thought, his mind was full of confused fancies, which refusing and disordering all his faculties be had not so much liberty, as to reason the matter aright for a long while: But at last, these dull Clouds beginning to dissipate, and the eyes of his reason seeing clearer, he looked upon things as he ought to do, and saw no way more rational than that which Anacharesis advised him unto. Yet since this Council did more satisfy his reason then his love, he did somewhat more than it; and sent Teraccles secretly unto Arcantes, to tell him, that he committed the life of Mandana unto his Guard; Protesting unto him that his own Person should answer for hers, if Thomiris put her to death: And to show the height of his love, he fully resolved, according as Thomiris should say after the ambiguons answer which he would make her, to put himself into the power of that Queen, Provided she would both spare the life of that Princess, and release her: So that his heart being at some rest after this resolution taken, he found himself able to think upon what answer he should send unto Thomiris, which might spin out the time to a length. And after he had well thought upon it, he resolved to send Chrisantes the third day, to tell this unjust Princess, that before he would put himself into her hands, it was requisite he should know what security she would give him for the life of Mandana, declaring unto her, that there was no other, then to set her at liberty, and send her to the King of Meades. But to have two strings unto his Bow, he intended to advance with his whole Army, the same day which Chrisantes departed, and quarter himself at the very entrance into the wood, to the end, the answer of Thomiris might be more moderate. But though this Resolution was the most reasonable which he could take, yet he was not satisfied with it: and he thought that there was a better course to be taken, though he knew not what it was so as relapsing into his complaints he was in a very miserable condition. Mazares for his part, his sufferings were incredible, and they were the more sharp, because he durst not let them be seen, lest by showing his sorrows, he should show his love. Intaphernes and Atergatis were full of inquietudes; for they conceived that if business were more entangled, the Princess whom they loved would not be over-safe in the hands of Thomiris. Gobrias and Hidaspes, had the very same thoughts for Arpasia, the first, concerned as a father, the second as a lover. Myrsyles, in his affection unto Doralisa, had much sorrow, for since he knew Mandana loved her, his love made him fearful, that the revenge of Thomiris would fall also upon her: So that, whether out of interest and concernment, or out of compassion upon the miseries of Cyrus, There were very few in the whole Army who were not sufferers, and full of sorrows. But the time when Cyrus was to return his Answer being come, Chrisantes and Feraulas, being ready to depart, the first unto the Massagettan Queen, and the other secretly unto her brother, It was told Cyrus, that a man, taken at the entrance into the wood, desired to speak with him, from Ariantes: At this very word, Cyrus trembled, not only out of hatred to his Rival, but out of fears to hear some sad news from the Princess Mandana.  
So as being extremely impatient to know what his enemy had sent unto him for, he commanded him to be brought in, and as he was in this fearful impatience desiring to know what he feared, This messenger from Ariantes came unto him, and speaking in a low voice, did with much exactness and reverence, deliver his message. Sir, (said he unto Cyrus) The Prince Ariantes knowing your affection unto Mandana, was afraid ●east you should do as the Massagettan Queen desires, out of your fears to hazard Mandanas' life. Therefore, in acknowledgement of his obligations to you, and out of his desire to serve the Princess whom he adores, he hath commanded me to tell you, that you must be sure to keep yourself out of the power of Thomiris, and as long as you did so, he would answer for the life of Mandana: But on the contrary if you did not, then perhaps, he should not be able to save her, but Sir, Lest my message should be suspected, I beseech you keep me in your custody, until the servant of yours called Ortalgues, returns from the Tents Royal, and acquaints you with the state of things, and what the Prince Arcantes hath done for the Princess Mandana. Since he is to return this night (added he) I shall not be long in custody, but will assure you that when you see him, you will not doubt of the sincere advice which the Prince Arcantes gives you, though he be your Rival and your enemy.  
Since I may very well doubt the honesty of a Prince who once deceived me, in carrying away the Princess Mandana, (replied Cyrus) I will take you at your word; and since Ortalgues in to return this night, I will set you at liberty again to morrow morning, after this, Cyrus committing this Massagettan into the custody of those who brought him in, resolved to stay the sending of Chrisantes and Feraulas unto Thomiris that night, there being yet time enough to return the answer he had promised. Though this Message from Ariantes might well have been a comfort unto him, yet his inquietude redoubled: for besides his mistrust of a Rivals Message, he was in extreme unpatience, until Ortalgues returned, so that he could not rest in any place: And certainly, he had great reason to desire the knowledge of what he longed for, because passages at the Tents Royal might very well alter since the departure of Anacharsis and the messenger from Thomiris. And indeed, that unjust Queen, had no sooner commanded Anacharsis to depart without speaking unto any, but Mandanas' Guards were doubled: Ariantes unto whom the life of that Princess was so dear, had rather Cyrus should enjoy her, then to see her die, and therefore, he went immediately, and made sure of her Guards, and went to work so handsomely and happily, that unknown unto Thomiris, he was more Master of Mandanas' Guard, than Thomiris was a Mistress. That which did much facilitate the design of the Prince, was because he who commanded those forces which were designed for Mandanas' Guard, had a brother who was Prisoner unto Cyrus: So that being concerned in the preservation of this Princess life: Ariantes made it appear unto him, that his brother was lost for ever, if Thomiris put Mandana to death: so that either out of a resentment of honour, or compassion, or interest of his Brother, or friendship unto Ariantes, or all, he promised rather to die, than Thomiris should put Mandana to death. Ariantes being well satisfied with this, he went and plotted with all his friends, and endeavouring to make sure of some of those Captains which had escaped from the Battle, he told them all that was possible to make them abhor this dismal intention of Thomiris, and justified Cyrus as much as ever he could concerning the death of Spargapices, to the end that the design of his Sister might appear the more unjust. Furthermore Ortalgues who was concealed in a friend's Tent, all the time he was in the Tents Royal, he saluted the friend of Anabaris and Adonacris, to oppose Thomiris. So as there was a great hurley burley in their Court. Moreover, Ortalgues going to visit Gelonide, he incited her to serve Mandana. But yet she could not deliver those Letters which he had for that Princess, only promised him to persuade Thomiris unto reason with all the Arguments she was able to produce. Ortalgues in this great disorder, could not deliver any of the Letters which he undertook, except those unto Adonacris and Anabaris. And the preservation of Mandanas' life did so wholly take up his mind, that he could not think of any thing else. In the mean time, this unfortunate Princess wondered at the doubling of her Guards. Doralisa and Martesia, no less than she. Yet they were greeved much more, when enquiring of one of the Guards the Cause, he told them, so as expecting every minute when Mandanas' throat should be cut, these two generous minded Ladies were greeved beyond all comforts. On the other side, the Princess of Bythinia, and the Princess Istrina, having not the liberty to see Mandana, and enquiring the state of things, they were exceedingly sad. Arpasia for her part, she found herself in a miserable condition, by being in the Court of a Queen who was capable of so great a piece of Injustice. And Aripithis himself, who was the cause of all this tumult, was extremely vexed to see Thomiris as full of love as fury, and to see that the measure of the one was the measure of the other.  
Though all these several-people did suffer very much, yet all was nothing in comparison of what Thomiris suffered. For Love, Hatred, Revenge, Jealousy, and all Passions, did shiver her heart with such violence, as I assure you she was in a most strange Condition. The truth is, after the first fury was over, she saw there was no Colour to suspect Cyrus of killing Spargapises, yet she was very Cautious of not divulging this thought: for having a Design to revenge her slighted love upon Mandana, she would still have this sad Pretence for her Revenge to blind the eyes of the People: So that though she could not see the hands of Cyrus stained with the blood of her Son, yet she would shed the blood of Mandana, purposely to take away the cause of that Prince's Love; yet sometimes she doubted of his innocency, and looking upon him as the Murderer of Spargapises, she would make himself a Sacrifice upon the Coffin of her Son.  
But after these tumultuous Motions had ruffled her mind, thinking sometimes that perhaps Cyrus would put himself into her Power, part of her Fury cooled, and she began to consider what she should do to justify Cyrus before the People, and justify herself before Cyrus. So that being sometimes surprised with thoughts of Revenge and hatred, and sometimes with thoughts of Love, she was ashamed at her own weakness, and abhorred her own Cruelty; but these good Intervals came not often, but commonly Fury was the Mistress of her Reason. Consider Thomiris, (would she say) and be careful to keep up the great Pretence thou hast to be revenged of thy proud Enemy, who hath so cruelly affronted thee: and though thou art sure, he did not kill thy Son, yet still look upon him as the cause of his death; for though he were innocent, yet he is Culpable of so many others, that he deserves thy hatred. Truth is, he is a trouble to thy tranquillity, he hath caused the to lose all the innocency of thy life, and he hath made the do things against thy own Glory. Pursue him therefore to death, and be revenged upon a Princess who is the cause of his scorning thee. Consider that the Passion which he raised in thy heart, hath sent thy Son to his Grave: and that the fire of thy love hath kindled such a War, as nothing perhaps will extinguish, but the blood of all thy Subjects. Sacrifice therefore Mandana as the first Victim of thy Revenge, and stay till Cyrus be himself in a condition to be Sacrificed as a Victim unto thy Resentments. But what am I doing (said she, and reprehended herself) and what do I speak in my Fury? I talk of Sacrificing a Prince who whether I will or no, does Reign in my heart, and who no sooner would be in my power, but I should be absolutely in his? Can I see Cyrus a Prisoner and look upon him with eyes and heart of hatred? yes, yes I can, for since he comes into my Chains only out of his love to Mandana, doubtless I shall hate him more than ever I loved him: After this, Thomiris being resolved to give way unto her fury, intended to move the hearts of the People by the Funerals of Spargapises; to the end so sad an Object might animate the Massagettans to revenge the death of their Prince, And indeed this sad Ceremony moved many tears. Aripathes in particular was deep in mourning, and so was Ariantes: But after the Ceremony was ended, Ariantes followed Thomiris to her Tent, and having made sure of many friends, particularly of Octomasades and Agathises, he talked to her very boldly in favour of Mandana, moving her to send her back unto Cyrus: So as this Princess being exasperated she answered him very sharply: but Ariantes was resolute and cared not; therefore: he went on, and told her all that was fit to be spoken, both for her own Glory, and the Preservation of that Princess whom he loved. For I must profess unto you, Madam, said he unto her, that since she never had been in your power but for me, I will do all that I am able to get her from you, if you offer to attempt any thing against her. Since you are able to do but little, (said she very sharply to him) I shall not much value what you do: In the mean time. I charge you to see me no more till I send for you, I will obey you, Madam, replied Ariantes, but I pray take it not ill if I do stop you in all you shall attempt against Mandana. If Cyrus do put himself under my power (replied she) you need not fear that Princess: If he do not I shall follow my own advice, and not yours.  
After this, Ariantes having left her, she went into a Tent which was her Closet, and called for Aripithes, purposely to give him several Orders for opposing Ariantes, if he should attempt any thing: but it was to late; For this Prince had not only got almost all the Officers and Sou 〈…〉 s on his 〈◊〉, but he had also sent unto those Forces which were coming up, to make sure of them also, if need were. Moreover; Aripithes though glad to be employed by Thomiris, yet he was very fearful lest Cyrus should become her Prisoner; imagining that if ever Thomiris saw him, all her fury would die. Also he being advertised that Ariantes had many friends, and that this resolution of Thomiris to put Mandana to death, did incense all men of any honour; he plainly saw that he was Master only of that body which was under his Command: And this act of cruelty seemed so horridly strange unto all the World, that he durst not absolutely trust unto that neither.  
In the mean time, the wise Gelonide knowing that there was no thwarting the fury of Thomiris at first, yet now thought it time to speak, and endeavour to reduce her unto Reason: Therefore striving to insinuate herself handsomely into the mind of the enraged Queen, she did not vehemently contradict her, but on the contrary excused her violences by some shallow reasons; so that she might afterwards without incensing her, produce more solid Arguments to persuade her. And indeed, when she was alone with Thomiris, she complained against the lamentable condition into which Fortune had brought her, and pitied her that she should be brought unto such a cruel necessity, as to be revenged upon so great a Prince as Cyrus was. For though Gelonide did wish with all her heart, that Thomiris did not love that Prince, yet as the case stood, she thought no way better to restrain her hands from the blood of Mandana, then by the interest of her love. Therefore fetching a compass the better to arrive at her end, truly, Madam, (said she unto her, after much other discourse) you are much to be pitied in your seeking revenge upon a Prince who is so much in Fortune's favour, and so much esteemed by all the World: For though they say, Revenge is sweet, yet I am persuaded that a Soul truly generous cannot seek revenge without abundance of Repugnancy, especially when it must be steeped in blood. However, Madam (added she very cunningly) I hope your Soul hath changed its Passion, and though it be troubled with the disquiet consequences of Hatred, yet it is freed from the consequencies of Love; Alas Gelonide (replied she) I am more miserable than you imagine me, and this first Passion hath not driven the other out of my heart. But I beseech you, Madam (replied Gelonide) what likelihood is there you should love Cyrus still? for if you did you would never strive to make him hate you, by persecuting Mandana, for I am most confident that Cyrus would hate you much less for persecuting himself then for persecuting her whom he adores: and therefore, Madam, if you do not hate that Prince, think seriously upon what you do, and if you will be advised by me, in lieu of menacing the life of that Princess, you shall protect it, and force that Prince by your generosity, to confess you merit his Esteem, if not his Affection. But I am most sure, Madam, that if you shed the blood of this Princess, and do not hate Cyrus, you will make yourself the most miserable woman in the World: and therefore consider well upon it, if you do hate him, than I grant you may satisfy your revenge by the most cruel and fatal ways: But if you do not hate him, give a stop unto your fury, and consider that if you do put Mandana to death, Cyrus will do the like to you. And though 'tis possible the love of Cyrus may die with this Princess, yet he will be sure to be your Enemy if you did put her to death. Honour doth so engage him to make War upon you, that though he should hereafter love you, yet he durst not entertain any peace with you. Therefore, Madam, sound your heart to the bottom, and take he●d least thinking to entertain only hatred, you find it to be all love. I have heard say indeed, that these two Passions, as opposite as they are, yet do sometimes so disguise themselves in such fallacious shows, as they cannot be known from each other; and when one hath thought he acted by dictates of Hatred, it was indeed by dictates of Love. Alas Gelonide (said the Queen) I have to my shame found all this to be true: For I must with a blush confess that Cyrus is not out of my heart, and if I did not love him still, I should not seek revenge upon Mandana: However I do carry it, as if I would revenge the death of my Son, though to speak truth, my heart doth not accuse him for it: Yes, yes Gelonide, since I must open my heart unto you, I do look upon him as ungrateful towards me, and not as if he were the Murderer of Spargapises. Thus at the very same time, whilst I tax him in Public with this horrid Crime, I do justify him in the Closet of my heart as much as I can. Since it is so, Madam, replied Gelonide, you must carry it otherwise, and not put yourself into such a State, as it will be impossible for you to be happy, if Fortune should wheel about: For, Madam, if you do not proceed to the very last Extremity, who knows but you may hereafter have Cyrus in your Power: he may chance be your Prisoner of War, and may perchance become fettered in your Chains by Love, if you use Mandana well; at least this Prince will esteem you more, and may happily in the end do justice both unto your Merit and your Affection: Who knows also whether those Forces which are coming up to join with yours, may not get you the advantage over Cyrus, as now he hath it over you? and whether Ciaxares may not be brought to demand Peace upon no other condition, but to exchange Cyrus for Mandana? And who knows whether this happy Peace may not satisfy the Passion of Ariantes and you both? There is so little probability in all you say (replied Thomyris and sighed) that I cannot flatter myself with any thoughts of it: However, Madam, replied Gelonide, though it be not probable, yet it is not impossible. But if you put Mandana to death, it is absolutely impossible that Cyrus should either love you, or make any Peace with you? Ah Gelonide, replied she, you are a great stop unto my Revenge: Why will you hinder me from the enjoyment of the only Pleasure that I can ever hope for? yet I find your words make a deep impression in my heart, and my fears to incur the hatred of Cyrus, restrain me from hating Mandana. I wish with all my heart, Madam, replied Gelonide, that I were able to ease your Majesty of your sufferings, but since I cannot, yet I would persuade you if you love Cyrus, not to provoke him to hate you, by Sacrificing Mandana unto your Revenge. For by that means I should preserve your glory, and perhaps something satisfy the passion which reigns in your Soul. As for my Glory, replied Thomyris, I value it not, for since I do not esteem myself, I care not whether others do esteem me, or no. As Thomyris was speaking this, an old Officer of hers, who had ever been very faithful and affectionate to her Service, came to tell her how he was very certainly given to understand that Ariantes was Master of all her Forces, and that he had sent unto those who were coming up, that he, who guarded Mandana was wholly at his Command; and that the People in general began to fear the anger of the Gods if she should put this innocent Princess to death; that they began to murmur, and perhaps would Rebel, if she persisted in her Design.  
Since this advice came from a man whom she knew most faithful, it made some impression upon her Spirits: and Gelonides discourse having prepared her Soul to receive it well, she thanked him for it; and after she had dismissed him, she began to consider unto what a miserable condition she had brought herself, and to examine seriously what Gelonide had said: Also considering that if she should put Mandana to death, it would then absolutely be impossible Cyrus should ever love her; her heart began to relent, and repent of what her Fury had hurried her unto: yet since she did not think it impossible but Cyrus might submit himself her Prisoner, to deliver his Princess, she did not repent of the Message which she had sent; yet she resolved that if he did not, then to seek out for some pretence to moderate her fury, though she did not very well know how to recall things, since they had gone so far. She asked Genolide how she should follow her advise, in case Cyrus should not submit himself her Prisoner? Alas, Madam, said Gelonide, Violence, and Vices need Pretences; but an act of Virtue and Goodness never needs any: And therefore if your Majesty resolve to change your mind, you ought to undeceive Ariantes immediately, before things break out into a flame: For who knows whether that Prince having a pretence to accuse you of cruelty against the person he loves, will not make use of those whom he arms against you, to pull the Crown from off your head, as formerly he would have done? Disarm yourself therefore, Madam, that you may disarm him: and if you will follow my advice, tell him plainly that you never had any intentions, to do as you seemed, but only to get Cyrus into your Power, and so sooner end the War, and better secure the Possession of Mandana unto him; you may also tell him, Madam, that the reason why your Revenge is not executed upon Mandana, is only in consideration of him. No, no (said Thomyris unto her) I cannot tell him so, for I have already told him the contrary: All I can say to him, is, that for the love of him I altered my mind. But Gelonide, when I have told the Prince my Brother so, what should I say unto Cyrus, and all those who know I have sent unto him? you may say, replied Gelonide, that you never would have used such sharp menaces, but only to procure peace unto the people, but since you found not your expected effects, you never intended to slain your reputation, by any action of cruelty: Thus, doing nothing against the interest of your own passion, you will get much glory unto yourself. I know not whether I shall get any or no (replied Thomiris and sighed) but I am sure that I deserve none; and see, I am the most culpable, and most miserable person upon the earth. In the mean time, since I have already said, that I thought Cyrus had killed my son; How can I now say, that I have changed my opinion? since you only said it in the heat of your passions and sorrows (replied Geloniae) no solid heed will be grounded upon your words, and all the world is so persuaded, that it could never be, that though such a thing were, yet they will never accuse you. After this, Thomiris falling into a deep study; and seriously considering the danger unto which she was exposed, especially what Gelonide said, concerning the hatred of Cyrus if she put Mandana to death, she resolved to send for Ariantes immediately. At first, this Prince was amazed at this command, and some would have persuaded him from obedience, out of their fears this Princess should arrest him: But Ariantes being confident in his friends, especially in him who guarded Mandana, went unto Thomiris with much boldness. When he came to her, he asked her, whether she sent for him, to tell him that she had changed her mind? and she answered him so cunningly, that any but himself would have been deceived by her discourse; and would have believed that she had no other consideration in restraining her revenge, but what she said she had. Yet Ariantes understood well enough, that it was her passion which was the principal cause of the alteration in her mind, but he made no show of it unto her, and was willing to take upon himself all the obligation. Also she added, that she never had any intentions to put Mandana to death, but only to oblige Cyrus to submit himself under her power. However, though she spoke with abundance of seeming sincerity, yet Ariantes knew very well, that she bore an extreme hatred unto Mandana: and that though Cyrus should submit himself, yet she might sacrifice the Princess whom he adored, if she were not hindered by force. So then fearing lest Cyrus in a rapture of his passion should do as Thomiris desired, he resolved to prevent him. However, a reconciliation was made between Thomiris and Ariantes, and before they parted, they resolved upon what should be said unto the people, what Cyrus had answered, and upon what their expected forces should do, when they were come up.  
After which Ariantes leaving the Princess, he went immediately unto his Tent to dispatch away a messenger unto Cyrus, but as he was instructing him, what he should say unto his Rival, he was told Ortalgues desired to speak with him: Indeed, this trusty servant, by the advice of Gelonide, came to tell the Prince, how he had stayed in the Tents Royal, and desired him for a pass, to return unto his Master, beseeching him, for his own glories sake, to do him so much honour as to give him some assurance of the Princess Mandanas' life: For truly Sir (said he) knowing already what you have done for her, I have some reason to hope that though you did it not, for the interest of that great Prince unto whom I belong, yet you will give me leave to carry the joyful news unto him, of your being he● Protector. Ariantes being much taken with the boldness of Ortalgues, he received him very well, and very obligingly told him, that he saw Cyrus was every way happy, even in his Domestiques: Afterwards told him, that though Cyrus was both his Enemy and Rival, yet he would neither be ungrateful nor wicked, but would ever acknowledge the Obligations upon him, since the time he was Anaxaris, by the assurance he would give him of Mandanas' safety, as long as she was under the Queen his sister's power; and the better to persuade him unto a belief of it, he told him as much as in any handsomeness he could, what he had done for the preservation of that Princess, he also told him that he might go unto his Master, but to avoid suspicion, the man whom he intended to send with him should go by himself.  
In the mean time Ortalgues after he understood that the messenger of Thomiris was returned, and understood from Gelonide, the good state of every thing, he departed without rendering the Letters which he took upon him to deliver: But he went in the Massagettan habit, and with an order from Ariantes, lest he should be stayed by his forces. So as this faithful servant arriving just as the messenger from Ariantes was telling Cyrus that he would come, he overjoyed that Prince when he told him all that Gelonide and Ariantes said unto him; and when he saw Mandanas' life was in no danger: So that desiring to share his joys amongst his dearest friends, especially unto Mazares, though his Rival, he sent for him, also for Anacharsis, Artamus, Myrsiles, Intapharnes, and Artagatis: yet the three last were very angry their Letters were not delivered, but for all that were very glad to hear that their mistresses were well. In the mean time Cyrus altered the answer which he would give unto Thomiris, yet he did not alter it without serious examination, whether he should build upon Ariantes and Gelonide or no: But when he considered that Ariantes was in love with Mandana, he concluded upon an absolute necessity of believing him, because he was concerned in the life of this Princess, so that being confirmed in this resolution, he told Ariantes messenger, as he dismissed him, and rewarded him with a rich present, that the proceedings of his Master were so generous, that he would for ever esteem him; and did not despair, but hereafter he should be beholding to him, for setting the Princess Mandana at liberty, but in the mean time he conjured him for his own Glories sake, to continue her Protector: and to acquaint him with any thing which may secure the life of that Princess: For truly (said he unto the messenger of his Rival) I do so highly esteem Ariantes for what he hath done, as if he should send me word, that Mandana were in danger, unless I came and assumed the Fetters of Thomiris, I think I should take his word. On the other side, this great Prince charged Chrysantes to tell the Massagettan Queen, that he had more confidence in her virtue, then to fear Mandanas' life, and that he was confident of her safety, under her power, nor should he doubt his own, were he under her power also; which if she desire, she must first remit Mandana into the King of Medea's hands, adding, that what she before sent to him, he believed was spoken in the height of her sorrows: and could never think that she had any bad intentions against the life of that Princess, and therefore he had no more to say, but to crave pardon for not believing her messenger; and to make amends for that fault, he would engage himself by oath, to treat all his Prisoners as well as if they were in his own army. Chrysantes having received these instructions went unto Thomiris, but though Cyrus answered Ariantes by his messenger, yet he would have Feraulus accompany Chrysantes, to deliver his mind unto his Rival, and so these two faithful servants unto a most illustrious Master, went to acquit themselves of their charges. The answer of Cyrus unto Thomiris being all sweetness, and civility, and she not knowing how that Prince had been informed of the true state of her soul, either from Ariantes or Gelonide, she was exceedingly joyed, especially because the passion of her soul made her believe, that Cyrus was not so much in love with Mandana, as she imagined, since to redeem her, he would not hazard himself: So as this imagination flattering her mind, she received Chrysantes very favourably, and told him, that she began to think that Cyrus was not culpable of her Sons death: adding that she would endeavour to clear him, and if she found him innocent, he needed not to fear Mandanas' life. In the mean time, she hoped ere long to have him in her power, and within this few days to have as great an advantage over him, as he had got over her. But she having a desire to gain a little time until her forces were come up, she propounded unto Chrysantes a cessation; to treat (as she said) concerning the liberty of some prisoners, hinting of many things in her discourse which induced him to think, that perhaps she desired this time to consider and overcome herself, and to restore Mandana to liberty, so that he parted with promise to acquaint his Master with all she said. Feraulus for his, part went unto Ariantes, who gave a very civil answer unto the message of Cyrus, but as cunning as Feraulus was, it was impossible for him to get a sight either of Mandana, Coralisa, or Martesia, yet she saw Gelonide, and she was as favourable to him as possible. But since the Captain of Mandanas' guard was more the creature of Ariantes then unto Thomiris the Princess was most strictly guarded: yet he understood that they were served with much respect, and that she had no other trouble but her solitude, and the visits of Ariantes, which were very tedious to her, though he behaved himself with as much submission as if he were her slave: But though Feraulus had not leave to see Mandana, yet he saw the Princess of Bythinia, the Princess Istrina, and the fair Arpasia, unto whom he presented commendations from Gadotes, Intaphernes, Atergates, Gabrias and Hydagres, in whom they had several concernments. Yet they had not liberty to write; but they charged Feraulas which said many things by word of mouth, that he stood in need of a good memory to return them all. The Princess of Bythinia enquired very much concerning the Princess Araminta, being much joyed that Spitridates, would be at the Camp of Cyrus very shortly. But the time of departure being come, Chrisantes pressed Feraulas, to make haste, and so he left them, after he had observed that there was a great intimacy between Serpacia, and those two Princesses. In the mean time Cyrus followed his first resolution, and marched to the entrance into the wood as soon as Chrysantes was gone; and quartered himself so near the Enemy's Guard, that they had continual skirmishes, so as it was in that Place where Chrysantes and Feraulas gave an account of their voyage. The proposition which Thomiris made, did much perplex Cyrus, for he believed it was only to gain time; but Chrysantes thinking he had discovered the thoughts of Thomiris, assured him, that there was something in her mind which would be advantageous to him, if he gave her leisure to surmount her passion. Yet Cyrus for all this, could not resolve upon this truce, but had continued, forcing the passages which the Sauromates guarded, if a certain Engineer had not come into his army, who was famous for many admirable secrets. Indeed since this passage was very long, and difficult to be forced, Cyrus had a hard task to attempt it, and since it was likely to weaken his army very much, he gave care unto this Engineer, who proposed a way to pass these straits, with less loss, provided he made a truce for some few days, during which time; he could prepare all things necessary for his design. But Cyrus, being unwilling to hazard any thing upon the prudence of others, he would have this Artist first show him the way which he intended to work. This engineer thus told him,  
That having observed two great passages in the woods which were not above fifteen furlongs from each other; and that they were the only places by which there was any passage, he further perceived that the enemies guarded the one of these much more carefully than the other, and where they had many more men, because they were persuaded that they should be assaulted. Moreover he said, that whilst the truce was, when soldiers have liberty to go and come into the Camps, than some of Cyrus' soldiers, commanded for that purpose, should seem to walk in the wood between these passages, and through against all the trees, a certain composition prepared with such art, as it should stick unto any thing it touches, and which hath such a disposition to burn, that the least spark given to the first tree, will set the whole forest on fire, provided that there be trees from distance to distance prepared with this composition to receive the fire and communicate itself. So Sir (said this Engineer to Cyrus) when trees at their several distances are prepared with this composition, which will never be discovered, because it's of the colour of the bark and moss, you may make choice of a night when the wind is up, as always it useth after sun set till sun rise, to set fire to the first tree, and to advance towards that pass which is weakest guarded, and in the height of their fears, begin your assault: Those of the one pass dare not pass through the flames, to relieve the other. Your men Sir will not be affrighted, because they know the plot; but said Cyrus, will not this be as dangerous for us as for our enemies? No Sir (replied the man) For the wind commonly blowing one way at that time of the year, those trees must be prepared only which stand one way, and not that side of the way which you are to take, so as your troops taking the right side, may pass without danger, & will not at all be affrighted as your enemies, but take fresh courage, because the flames do fight for them. Cyrus' after this, put several questions to the man, and would needs see the experiment of this strange composition, whose chief material was the mud of a lake which is in Comagines, near a town called Samosate, and which is so gluttonous, that it will stick unto any thing it toucheth; and hath such a natural disposition to burn and consume that unto which it sticks, that the least spark will make a great blaze, this fire is the most dangerous, because water will not quench it, nor any thing else, but much ●arth thrown upon it. Thus this Engineer assured Cyrus, that it had done prodigies, and said that Medea made use of it to put Creuseus to death. This great Prince advised him not to publish so great a secret, lest it should put the honesty of many a man to the Test. However, since Cyrus harkened unto this proposition, at the same time, when Chrysantes told him that Thomiris desired a truce, he was the more willing to hearken unto it, since in lieu of retarding his designs, it would forward them, yet his great heart had some repugnance against all manner of truces in war: But Mazanes did so press him to make use of this invention to shorten the war, that fearing lest Mandana should accuse him for being over scrupulous in point of honour, when perhaps her life depended upon it, he resolved upon it: So as calling a Counsel of war about it, it was concluded that he should not deny this truce, and thereupon Cyrus sent Chrysantes to Thomiris, and the peace was concluded for eight days, and published in both Camps. Thomiris made many propositions concerning the Officers of her army that were taken prisoners, at the last battle which she lost: Also to delude the people and make them believe that her passion was not the cause of the War, she made some propositions of peace, which truly were not altogether unreasonable, except in that she demanded Mandana to stay three years in her Court as as hostage. In the mean time Cyrus desired Anacharsis, to go unto Thomiris and tell her, that he could not give any direct answer, unless she would permit him to see Mandana, and know from her own mouth whether she would consent unto his propositions: But do what Anacharsis could, she would not permit that; So as all the eight days were spent in frivolous negotiations: Yet there was an uncertain kind of a hope that there would be a change in the heart of Thomiris, and the rather, because that Queen prompted by her passion, desired to treat with Cyrus himself, in a fancy that her presence might perhaps move the heart of the Prince, who not daring to refuse this interview, though it went against his mind, desired that he might speak with Ariantes, though they would not let him speak with Mandana, doubtless Cyrus had no mind to see Thomiris, nor did Ariantes desire the sight of Cyrus: But their interests were so oddly mixed, that neither of them durst deny the motion. Thus they prepared themselves for these several interviews; which was resolved to be in the midst of the wood between both armies. Atergates and Intaphernes demanded to see the Princess of Bythinia, and the Princess Istrina: Hidaspes and Gabrias demanded to see the fair Arpasia: but though their demands were no less just than the other, yet Thomiris refused them, but it was at the instance of Lycander: So that the fair Arpasia had the sorrows, not to see either her father or her Lover, so that she grieved most extremely at it.  
The Princess of Bithynia and the Princess Istrina, who did infintely esteem her, did endeavour to comfort her, and offered her to tell those two Princes, whom they were to see within a day or two, whatsoever she would please to have them know: And certainly these two Princes had good reason to interest themselves in behalf of Arpasia, who questionless was no ordinary person. She was big and tall, though her Grandeur was no more than so much as to please. Her hair was a lovely dark brown as ever was seen, and was so apt to curl, that the least whiffle of wind did turn it into handsomer rings than any art could do. The model of Arpasias' face was oval, she had grey, full, and passionate eyes, and the corners of her mouth had such a particular kind of smile, that it was enough to see the lower part of her face, and to know her, her lips were so even and persect carnation, that her beauty was so incomparable, her cheeks were so pleasingly round, and had such an amiable fresh plumpness, that though the complexion of Arpasia was not of the clearest lustre, yet was she a great beauty, because there was an exact uniformity in every part, 'tis true, her nose had not so much regularity as the rest of her face, yet it was not so, as did blast the rest of her feature, and if it were any defect, it served as a foil to set the rest of her excelling better off, who besides all these, having most pure white teeth, and fair neck and arms, was doubtless one of the most charming Ladies of the world; her Garb was so high, her air so noble, and her walking agreeable, that none could look on her, without a disposition to love her, She danced with as good a grace as she walked, and had such a nature of mirth and gravity together, as did infinitely please: her humour was as charming as her beauty, for she was always sweet, civil, and affable she had a good inclination to Rallary, or at least to love those who did it well, but she gave a check unto her inclination, and commonly seemed more grave then merry: Yet notwithstanding she loved pleasures, especially company, and company a little gallant, she could not spend a whole afternoon with one friend in private without being weary, for she had a kind of active spirit which was an enemy to all lumpishness, and which made all she did delightful. Moreover, she was naturally magnificent, liberal, and good, and had a soul so tender, as would make one almost assured not to be hated, though one should tell her that they were in love with her, yet she was not capable of any violent passion, & the pleasure of being loved made her sometimes suffer herself to be so, rather than out of any real inclination. She was not at all fantastical, & that desire to please which was in her heart, proceeded from a more further noble cause. Furthermore, she had a wit so sharp, and she could so cunningly pump the minds of those, whose designs she desired to know, as it may be said she had a key to open their hearts, and look into their secrets; and all this without any seeming of subtlety: indeed her temper was so opposite unto any guile, that she never had any friend whom she once deceived: but was apt to a kind of generous confidence which had rather be exposed to be deceived by others, then to be so subtle as to prevent being deceived. This Arpasia with her Beauty, Wit, and goodness, did so please the Princess of Bythinia, and the Princess Istrina, that they were desirous to know her adventures, especially since she would imply them in some business unto those Princes whom they were to see; For truly (said Istrina to her, after much other discourse) It is not possible we should be able to do you any right service, unless we do know the state of your misfortunes. They are of such a nature (replied she) that I can expect no advantage from you by telling of them, but only your pity. Though you cannot Madam, replied the Princess of Bithynia, yet I beseech you tell them unto us, for truly as for my part, I do find great case unto my miseries, by being pitied. Doubtless its true Madam, (replied Arpasia) But I am so unable to relate all the accidents of my life myself, that if you would know them, it must be from her who has a share in my misfortunes, for besides her knowing of them as well as myself, I cannot relate such things with any order, which have so much disordered my mind. I know 'tis said that the remembrance of miseries is sweet: but I must be happy first before I can take any delight in remembering my past misfortunes: And therefore since I am not in that condition, I beseech you dispense with me. We shall willingly dispense with you Madam (replied the Princess of Bithynia) provided the amiable Niside who is with you, will undertake it in your room. I am contented, answered Arpasia; then I beseech you (said Istrina) let it be this day; for since we do not directly know when we shall go and see those Princes, unto whom you will employ us: It is requisite we should be knowing in the state of your fortune as soon as you can. To testify how willing I am to discover my misfortunes unto you (answered she) I will go unto Niside and give her orders to acquaint you with all my weaknesses: she is a woman whose hard fortune cannot deject, by dejecting her house and family; and who has such a share in all that relates unto me that she knows all my thoughts: And therefore you may give credit unto all that she will say, excepting in any commendations which perhaps she will give me: For happily her friendship to me may bias her. When we have heard her, replied the Princess of Bitihnia, we shall give you all justice, and shall believe as we ought to do. After this Arpasia retired, and Niside stayed with the Princesses, ask them pardon before hand▪ for her want of any art to relate what they required; Then after many civilities, they pressed her to begin the relation, which she did in these terms, addressing her speech unto the Princess of Bithynia.  

THE HISTORY OF ARPASIA.  
THough I am persuaded, you have so good an opinion of Arpasias' judgement, as to think, that she would never have comamnded me to relate her adventures, if she had not known that I was able to make a perfect relation of things past; yet I must tell you, Madam, that none upon earth knows them better than I do, and I dare almost say, that I know them better than herself: For the truth is, that the heavy burden of her sorrows, hath hindered her from observance of many which I have seen with less trouble, though I was ever a sharer in all her miseries: For fortune having ruined the family from which I descended, which heretofore kept myself in a good rank, and having lost those who gave me life, when I was very young, I was put unto Arpasia, as having the honour to be allied unto her, by my Mother. And having continued with this excellent Lady ever since my infancy, I have not only seen her adventures with my own eyes, but further, I have known her most secret thoughts. I shall not trouble you Madam with a relation of Arpasias' birth: For you are not ignorant that Gabrias her Father hath a little Dominion, which depends only upon the Gods and himself; and that Gadates and he were two Grandees, who heretofore pretended to marry Nitocris. Nor shall I aggravate the miseries of the fair Arpasia, which began by the death of her elder Brother, who died after so sad a manner at Babylon, by the violence of the late King of Assyria, that it is not possible that you should know it, and Arpasia was then so young, that she was not capable of any long sorrows for it. But Madam, it it is requisite you know, that Gabrias, even since the loss of his Son, did wholly decline the interests of the Assyrian Prince. Yet he did conceal his Resentments, out of his Respects unto the Queen Nitocris, who then lived: But as soon as she was dead, and that Prince had brought the Princess Mandana to Babylon, his desire of revenge began to break out, and his whole imaginations were how to ruin the Assyrian King. And to that end, he did not only enter into league with all his neighbour Princes against him, but also united himself with all the Malcontents of that Court. But Madam, before I go any further, I must tell you, that Gabrias having lost his Wife as well as his Son, did set his whole affection upon the amiable Arpasia, and she was then upon her 15 year, and he loved her the more, because he looked upon her as a person who would contribute unto that revenge which he would take upon the King of Assyria, as afterwards I shall tell you in the sequel of my discourse. In the mean time be pleased to know, that there was a Governor of a Province which belonged to that King, who knowing that he loved him not▪ and that he would certainly take his government from him, he sought an occasion to revolt; so that not being ignorant, that Gabrias had cause of complaint, he sent a Nephew of his to him purposely to sound him, and he sent him presently after the death of Nitocris. But Madam, since he of whom I speak whose name was Astidamas was the chief cause of all Arpasias' miseries, it is requisite I make a description of him unto you, as he was when he came to the town where Gabrias did most commonly reside, and where Artasia did infinitely delight, and to tell you truly, it was not without cause. For it was exceedingly pleasant both in its s●ituation and the country about it, and also in respect of a stately Castle which was its principal strength. Moreover, though this little Court had no great tumults, and thronging, yet was it veryagreeable and delightful, and hugely pleased Astidamus as soon as he saw it: But to describe him as I intended, I must say he was of a meanstature, but handsome and well made, his hair and eyes black, and without either extraordinary handsomeness or ugliness. It may be said, he was passable enough, especially because he knew the mode of the world, and a free merry way which much pleased. Moreover, he was rich and handsome in his clothes, and he knew so well how to suit and fit himself, that he was never seen in ill sorted colours. Moreover, his company was good and pleasing, and he had such a kind of way with him, that he did not need to strive for excellent things to please; for his manner of way and air, in speaking the most common things, did make them pass for excellent. Yet he was a man better at general conversation then private discourse, for having a kind of a merry unquietness of spirit, which made him perpetually pass from object, to object; he could nor endure to talk long upon one thing, or to one person: So as the greater the company, the merrier was he. He danced with a good grace, and for a man of his quality, sung passing well; Now Madam, after all the good qualities of Astidamus, give me leave to tell his bad ones, and acquaint you that his manners were not very innocent. In point of valour, he could not be questioned, but he had a most voluptuous soul; and took his pleasure in such an odd way, as one could not know him and love him. As for his matter of love, it was something particular, for sometimes he would seem inconstant, and sometimes deeply in love, yet to define him rightly, he more desired to be loved, than he loved those who loved him though upon some occasions, he hath seemed really to love.  
Truth is, Some things he did, are attributed to that passion which ought not to be so. For if he had a mind to do a thing, he would go through with it at any rate, not for any love to the thing itself, but because he had undertaken it, yet he appeared very civil, affable, and ready to court the first Lady that he met, in the way of gallantry, Astidamus being such a one as I have described, did come, as I told you from his Uncle to sound the depth of Gabrias and his thoughts, and to move him unto some attempts against the now King of Assyria, so as he was received with much joy and magnificence. He commanded Arpasia, to show himall the Ladies of her acquaintance, yet there was no great assemblies, by reason of the Queen's death: But they often walked & sometimes hunted, and only common pleasures were the diversions. At the first all the Ladies, liked Astidamus, except Arpasia, for whether she sooner found out his ill qualities than the rest, or whither it was out of a natural aversion to him, she was fain to force herself unto a commendation of him, yet this did not then appear, for knowing the mind of her Father, she showed all imaginable civility to Astidamus. As for him he seemed to be so taken with the beauty of this excellent Lady, with her wit and merit, that none made any question but that he was in love with her: And Arpasia herself thought so as well as the rest, and though she entertained not one thought which was advantageous to him, she saw this growing passion without giving any check,  
For first, she could not foresee that his love could prejudice her, since she was to be gone within a few days.  
And secondly; Her age might well excuse her, for she was not sorry for making any new conquest.  
Thus Arpasia not repulsing Astidamus, nor seeming to take notice of his passion, did go very civility towards him, and he being apt to flatter himself with hope, he was a Lover without any misery, though he had no reason to hope for any happiness.  
However, all the world talked of Astidamus love unto Arpasia; And I think others spoke of it more than he himself did, and they talked so much of it, that the made use of these reports, to discover his affection unto Arpasia; and indeed he did it very gallantly, and in a particular manner, though she was a little sharp with him. He chanced to be there one day when all the company did separate themselves into couples, and it was Astidamus his good fortune to talk with Arpasia. And closing with this opportunity, he fell into talk with her, and commended her, knowing very well that commendation is the best preparative, to make a Mistress receive a declaration of love favourably. But since Arpasia would needs out of modesty change the discourse, lest she should go further than she desired: and after she handsomely defended herself against her flatteries, she observed, how chance had brought so many thither, as made even couples, two and two. But that which I most admire at (added she) is, that every one of these couples hath some privacies together, and that fortune should so well place them, as that they may talk in secret together. I wish with all my heart Madam (said Astidamus, who heard two Ladies next him talk of his passion to Arpasia) that after your admiration as what Fortune hath done, you knew what every one in the company says, and that you would command them to tell you presently: I assure you Sir, replied she, that if they have any humours to satisfy my curiosity they would do me a great pleasure in it. And me more than you Madam (replied he) not that I think you to be of a more inquisitive nature than I am; but I can easily guests by their faces what they talk of, and think that it is upon something which you desire to know, I profess Astidamus, replied she, you are very excellent at the science of conjectures and since you can tell what people do say when they speak low, I pray tell me. To show you that, I am not much mistaken (replied he) I will tell you what those two Ladies next me did say, and afterwards you shall ask them whether I was far off the mark or not; I will (answered she) But it shall be upon condition, that if you fail in your guesses you shall never meddle with Divination again, I will willingly engage myself (replied he) because I am sure, that I am not mistaken. Then tell me replied she, what those two Ladies said, they said Madam, (answered he and looked steadfastly upon her) that I am desperately in love with you, and therefore you need not think it strange, that I should guests what they say, as well as they guess what I have most truly thought: Fie Astidamus (replied Arpasia and blushed) you are a very bad Diviner, and so are those Ladies also, if they do think as you say: I beseech you Madam (replied he) let me desire them to confess what they said, and what they thought: As for the last of these (replied she) it will be a hard matter for you to make them confess it, and as for the other, it is to no purpose. Provided Madam said he, you will believe me upon my word, I shall I not need the testimonies of those Ladies; but if you will not, I must entreat all those who talk of my love, to talk of it unto you, as they do unto others, And I beseech you Madam, be no more offended at me, and to what I shall say, than you will be at them when they say any thing unto you. Your language (replied she) will pass for such a pleasant piece of raillary, that I shall not take it seriously. Provided Madam, answered he, that you will think my Raillary to be really true, you may let it pass for what you please. If I should think so, (replied Arpasia) it would be so little advantageous to you as you had better not desire it: however I do profess that I do not love such ●aillarie. And if I thought you had any intention to use it any more, I would never talk in private with you as long as I lived. This is extreme unjust Madam (said he unto her) that you should suffer all the world to tell you that I do love you, and not to allow me, who knows the truth of it better than they, I assure you (replied she) none ever told me that you were in love with me; or if they had, it had been no great pleasure to me. Then am very unhappy (replied he for ever since there were any Ladies I am confident non would be ever offended when they were told that they had made a new conquest, though they will seem angry when they are told of it: and it is a most horrible Injustice in all women. Since I am not of your opinion I shall (replied she aloud purposely to make the company general) desire all the company to Judge whether it be Just in you to condemn all Ladies as you do; Every one hearing what Arpasia said, broke of their private conferences, and began to hearken unto her, and ask what the Injustice of Astidamus was? he confidently affirms (said she,) that all women are well pleased when they are told of any new conquest they have made. You Madam were ever so Just (replied one of those Ladies to whom she spoke whose name was Stenobira) that I am sure to be on the right side, if I be on yours; you are so able yourself Madam to maintain an ill cause (added another of the Ladies) as you are able to vanquish Astidamus without any assistance of mine. For my part (said a man of quality called Tirimenes) I do conceive the complaint which Astidamus makes of Ladies is so reasonable, that I have a thousand times murmured against their injustice: truth is, said Astidamus, to speak in general all women are unjust in making men to love them, and not let them speak of it to them: But if any Lady have any reason to take it ill from a man who is in love with her, to tell her of it; she hath much more reason to take it ill from men who are not in love with her, to talk other conquests; yet custom hath made this Injustice almost a Law, and one may tell a woman she ever makes all men miserable; that her eyes kindle fire in the hearts of men; that some are ready to die for her, & such like; In the mean time if a man do but open his mouth and tell her that he loves her, she is ready to banish him; to treat him ill; to impose eternal silence, and to threaten everlasting hatred. This rule is not so general as you imagine (replied Stenobira and smiled) for I do know some women, who will be more angry with a friend for chiding them, for making any in love with them, than they will be with their Lovers for telling them they are in love: 'tis true, it happens so sometimes (said Terimone) but you never heard of it; but when a Lady hath contracted amity with him who is so plain with her, so that her anger is not caused by any excess of severity: Tirimenes is in the right (said Astidamus) but I cannot endure that they who suffer themselves to be told a 1000 times in the year that this man is in love with them, & that man is in love with them; yet will not suffer him who adores them, to tell them so much as once how many miserieshe endures for their sakes, if there be anyreformation to be made in the custom (replied Arpasia sharply) doubtless it is to be only in this, that women should never hearken unto their lovers, nor let their friends chide them for making any in lovewith them. Not but that women might hear men without any anger if they would leave off all flatteries: but when they will be talking of such things as they themselves do know ought not to be harkened unto, their anger in that case hath a most just ground. Madam replied Astidamus, you defend a bad cause, with so much wit, that as long as you are speaking, I am ready to submit unto your arguments but as soon as ever you are silent, I return unto my first opinion, and declare, that if it be a crime to make men in love with you, than you have no reason to take it well that your friends do tell you of it: but if it be not, than you may very well permit him whom you have captivated, to tell you of it as well as others: For there is no Justice that those who endure no torments nor inquietudes from the passion they speak of, should have liberty to speak of it unto you: Whilst those who suffer most miserable tortures, are not permitted to complain and tell where their pain doth lie. For my particular (replied Arpasia and blushed) I have no concernment in this dispute: For I am none of those who use to hearken unto their Lovers with delight or who are angry with their friends, nor do I remember that any ever told me, any was in love with me. Fie Madam (replied Stenobira) who knew nothing of the passages between Astidamus and Arpasia) you are not now sincere: For I have told you that I do know some men, whom your beauty hath tormented. Then is my memory very bad (replied she faintly) But if that be true and that I may make some profit of what Astidamus hath said, I must be angry with you and truly Stenobira, I could easily be so, if I could believe you. After this, Arpasia making a motion to walk, the conversation changed, and during the walk these two Ladies being next Astidamus, he overheard what they said, and how Stenobira told Arpasia that Astidamus was in love with her: however Arpasia having a natural aversion to him, she was as much vexed to think that Astidamus should love her, as she would have been to hear that one whom she loved had hated her. But to exasperate her aversion it was discovered that at the very same time he seemed to be in love with her, he also was very frequent with another Lady of quality who was very fair, but of so bad a carriage, that such as were any thing cautions of their reputation, never frequented her. So that Arpasia extremely disliking all such as could carry themselves equally compliant unto all women, so they were fair: she conceived such a kind of aversion towards Astidamus as did very nearly resemble hatred, so that if she had not been full of respects unto her Father, she could not have concealed it. But Astidamus being most agreeable unto all such as did not perfectly know him, most of the Ladies did much esteem him. At last, Astidamus after he had been a month with Gabrias he returned to his uncle, who looked upon him as his son, since he had no children, and he returned without any reason of much commending, or much complaining against Arpasia: For she carried herself with so much prudence out of fear to anger her father, that her aversion to Astidamus did not appear so much as unto me, whom she was pleased to honour as her Confident. Some days after his return to Alfenes, there came a messenger from Protogenes, the Uncle of Astidamus; and for many days together it was understood that Gabrias sent unto Protogenes and Protogenes unto Gabrias yet none did wonder at it. For since the carrying away of the Princess Mandana had then put all Asia into an universal disorder: And since the death of the Queen Nitocris had wrought a great change in the minds of all such as were tied to the interests of the Assyrian King, it was conceived, that every one thinking of their own safety; & examining which side to take in a war which was apparently fore seen, that there was some negotiation between Gabrias and Protogenes, yet the secret of the affair was not seen, but ere it was long, we found it out: For Madam be pleased to know that Gabrias having treated with Protogenes purposely to be revenged upon the king of Assyria, they both resolved to take part with Cyrus but not to declare themselves until that Prince had an army in the field, and was advancing towards Babylon, as it was likely he would. But that their interests might be the more united, & their treaty more solidly made, a marriage between Arpasia & Astidamus was resolved upon. So that one morning, when this fair one little dreamt of it, Gabrias came to tell her that she must prepare herself to go unto Alfenes & within eight days to marry him. You may imagine Madam, how sad Arpasia was at this news: but since she stood in fear of Gabrias, she durst not let the horrid Antipathy between the marriage & her appear: knowing very well that if she did show her aversion it was to no purpose: For her Father would not break a treaty of that nature, though she should employ all her tears to win him unto it: So as forcing herself with a strange violence to conceal the excess of her sorrows, she told her Father, that she was all obedience, but she told him it with so much sadness as betrayed her heart, & let him know more than she would have showed, yet notwithstanding Gabrias being too deeply engaged in his designs of revenge, would not take any notice of her repugnancy: But gave all requisite orders that the voyage should be very magnificent. For since he desired to cloak the league from all suspicion; he published the marriage of his daughter with Astidamus, purposely because none should wonder at his going unto Alfenes, nor believe that it was to confer with Protogenes. So that the marriage of his daughter being the pretext of his voyage, the preparations for it were with all magnificence & noise; and Arpasia was constrained to receive the visits of all those who came to rejoice with her, for a thing which was the saddest news in the world unto her, so that standing in need of all her patience she was forced to ease her heart unto me, and complain against the rigour of her fortune. In the mean time, as the state of affairs stood, they required all haste in the business, and all things requisite for the voyage were in readiness; & we departed sooner than we expected: Almost all the young gallants of any note about Gabrias did wait upon him; and this little Court Errand (that I may phrase it) had been very pleasant, if the heart of Arpasia had not been so full of secret sorrows; she was also obliged by her Father's command to answer a Letter which Astidamus scent her; and to answer it with all the civility of a person who looked upon him as her husband, though truly the letter which she received from him was none of the most obliging, the letter yet was well written and full of wit: Every word was full of civility and respect, and yet so couched that they were not at all obliging; For there was such a kind of faint lukewarmness in it as made it neither tender nor passionate, but as if it were written by a man who was not in love, only writ a love letter, because he was obliged, or forced unto it.  
You may easily imagine what kind of discourse Arpasia, and I had, during this voyage and she would have none in the Coach with her, but only me, purposely to have the liberty of talk; and pretending the heat of the weather, she sent all her other women into other Coaches. she, and I were a whole day together, talking of nothing but her misfortune: and the nearer we drew unto Alfenes, the more her melancholy increased. So that being within two day's journey, she seemed as if she were nothing but a lump of sadness. Yet she had the comfort to understand that Gabrias would stay some days at a town by the way; until he were better satisfied from Protogenes, in some points concerning the treaty, which he would have ended by negotiation before he advanced any further. Yet we were ignorant of the true cause of this stay; but Gabrias told his Daughter, that the reason of it was, because all things for her magnificent reception were not yet in readiness. However it was, Arpasia was glad of the stop, though she was sorry to be so near a place where she was to be miserable. But Madam, it is requisite I acquaint you with a passage which happened that day when we were so sad, before we came to the town where we were to stay; near unto which there was a River, over which there was a bridge only of planks for foot people, but not for coaches, because it was too weak and narrow: We understood also from some Country people, that the Ford over which the Coach was to pass, was much obstructed by rubbish which a stood had brought with it: and was very dangerous until it was a little scoured; so that we came out of the Coach to go over this foot bridge: Gabrias going himself to see whether the men said true, we stayed a long time upon this bridge, beyond which, we espied a man of a most admirable presence walking on the other side of this River, and who assoon as we stayed, stopped and looked upon us also. Arpasias' mind being full of melancholy, she no sooner saw this handsome stranger, but imagining him to be some friend unto Astidamus whom he had sent unto her Father, she change▪ d her colour, and turning towards me: Alas Niside, (said she unto me) I should be very sorry if this stranger, who seems to be so handsome, should prove a messenger from Astidamus: For I must confess my aversion to him is such, as I wish him only to have fools unto his friends, and I wish myself such a one for his sake; that he may have a wife worthy of himself: Your wish, Madam, is so unjust, (said I unto her) and the execution of it so impossible, that you make it altogether in vain: But as for this stranger, there is no liklyhood that he should be any friend unto Astidamus: For if he were, he would advance; and I am confident that he stays only to have the pleasure of seeing you at a nearer distance when you have passed the bridge: For as we can discern him to be very handsome, so may he discern enough in you to invite his looks, and perhaps (said I unto her laughing, purposely to drive her out of her melancholy) if he look upon you but one quarter of an hour longer, he will become a Rival unto Astidamus: At least his Garb speaks his condition to be worthy of it. I wish with all my heart he were (replied Arpasia suddenly) and I wish this man, who ere he be, were so far in love with me, as to prevent the designs of Astidamus, upon condition that I should not love him so much myself as to disturb the quiet of my life. I had thought Madam (said I unto her) that your hatred to Astidamus was so great, as that you would have gone on with your wish without any condition; and that you would rather have been the Lover of this stranger, than the wife of the other: Truly, (replied she) if there were any possibility in the proposition, I should be strangely perplexed if it should be made unto me; for I would do almost any thing in the world to keep me from marrying Astidamus: As we were talking thus, I saw that this stranger looked upon Arpasia very earnestly, & coming insensibly near the end of the bridge, where he thought she would pass, he seemed as if he liked her a far off, and desired to see her nearer; so that we continued talking of him, until we came out of the Coach, to pass over the bridge. But Madam, the prospect being admirably good, especially when we were upon the midst of the bridge, Arpasia stayed a long time there to delight herself with so fair an Object; thinking that she deferred her miseries some munits, in not making any haste over. Indeed, the place was very delectable: One side of the River looked towards the ruins of a stately Castle, which set limits to the eye that way: On the other side, the river did so turn and wind itself through a great and pleasant meadow, that one would have thought there had been five or six several Rivers in one place: But that which rendered the prospect most delightful, was a rank of mountains beyond the meadows, which riding upon the back of each other, seemed to reach the Clouds, and barracado up the Country that way: On the other side, towards the town, which stood near this little River, the eye was unlimited, but pleasingly invited to look upon several plumps of wood, many pretty hamlets, abundance of Shepherd's Cottages, million of flocks and herds wherewith the plains were covered, so as Arpasia standing in the midst of this bridge and viewing these rustic beauties, she stayed there, as I told you before; and she stayed the longer, because a cloud having masked the Sun, she might do it without any inconveniency: So as by this means, the stranger who stood at the end of the bridge had time enough to admire her beauty, who being unmasked appeared fairer than ever I saw her before: She being a little hot, her complexion was higher than ordinary, and the winds whifling her hair negligently, she often ordered it with her fair hands, so as this stranger might see both them, and her arms incomparably white.  
But after a long survey of this beautiful prospect, Arpasia passed the bridge, the stranger never taking his eyes off her, for I confess to you Madam, that I eyed him as much as he did Arpasia, though out of a different reason: For I looked upon him, only because his admiration at her beauty pleased me, and he looked upon her doubtless, because he found her the fairest piece, that ever he had seen in his life. However, as soon as Arpasia came near him, he very respectfully saluted her; and did his compliment so handsomely as it was easy to perceive that he was a man of quality, and one who had seen the world. But after Arpasia had passed the bridge, she sat down upon a pillar, which time had tumbled down, and half sunk into the earth, since it first fell, and the●e she did sit until her Coach had found out a more convenient ford, and came unto her: All the men went over on horseback with Gabrias, and went with him to the town which was close by, and two or three only staying with Arpasia, she began to talk of several things: All this while the stranger staying in the same place with his friend, he still looked upon her, as if he had a great desire to come near her: And indeed, fortune favoured his design; for Arpasia being naturally of an inquisitive disposition, she inquired of every thing that was deserving it, and wondered to see such a goodly pillar as that whereon she ●ate, in a place where she saw no ruins of any building: For the old defaced Castle which was one of the beauties of the Country was a great distance of it. So that she sent one of her servants to inquire of two men who were near this stranger, for what use this stately pillar had been? But the two men being only Merchants, they knew nothing of it; but answered they were ignorant, yet the curiosity of Arpasia was fully satisfied, for since they were near this stranger, he heard what was asked them and what they answered. So then he being very glad of an occasion to talk with one whose beauty he so much admired, he told Arpasias' Officer that he would come and satisfy her curiosity, and after he had asked her name and quality, he addressed himself very respectively unto her.  
Madam (said he unto her) I think myself very happy in being yesterday so inquisitive as to satisfy myself in what you desire to know, because I shall this day have the glory of satisfying the curiosity of the greatest beauty in the World. Sir, said she and rose up to salute him, I do so little deserve the commendations which you bestow upon me, that I cannot choose but think you to be a flatterer, at least I can see so much in the river as I pass, as makes me blush at the applause which you are pleased to give me: But noble stranger, (said she and gave him not so much time as to reply) since you know the meaning of this stately column whose destiny is so much changed, I beseech you inform me; I thought to have told you Madam, replied he, that the destiny of this pillar is much greater than perhaps you imagine, for it is a memorial of the victories of the great Sesostris, who heretofore made greater conquests than ever any of his predecessors did, and whose custom was to erect such columns in the Countries where he obtained his victories, and to engrave not only his name and country, but to insculp the valour or the cowardice of those he vanquished: Thus was he wont to eternize the shame, or the glory of his enemies, according as they did more or less, withstand his valour, by erecting such columns as here you see and sit upon: He made also other statues of himself, for two of them are to be seen hewed out of most admirable stone; one of them stands in the way between Ephesus and Phoceus, and the other between Sardis and Smirna: But as old time is the ruin of all things successively, so this pillar hath less resisted its fading stroke, than those statues, which are yet very fresh; however Madam (added he most gallantly) the happy fate of this column hath not abandoned it; for since it hath the honour to serve you for a seat, it hath deserved a fresh erection, to the end also, none other should profane it, by sitting upon it after you: And I know not, (added he and smiled) whether if your conquests were also ingraved upon it, they would not appear to be greater than those of Sesostris. Had you reserved this last piece of flattery, Sir (replied she) I should have told you that I am very sorry for meeting with so nobly accomplished a man as you are, because I am so soon to part from him; but now I must tell you, that I think myself happy in parting so soon, lest I should have lost that right opinion which I have of myself▪ However I give you many thanks Sir for the favours you have done me, in satisfying my curiosity. After this, Arpasia looking better upon the Pillar, she found an old inscription, which this stranger did interpret, and so neatly, as it was apparent, he was a man of an excellent wit: And Arpasia being desirous to testify the good opinion she conceived of him, she asked him, who he was, in a very obliging manner, It would seem very strange Sir, (said she unto him) if I should be inquisitive concerning this Column and not be as full of curiosity to know the man who hath so well informed me, of what country he is, and of what name, and therefore I beseech you acquaint me with both: Madam (replied he very modestly) I have done so little honour unto the country which gave me birth, that I beseech you give me leave to stay until I have well deserved from it, before I make it known unto you: And let it suffice to acquaint you Madam, that men call me Meliantes without any further knowledge of my Country. Be your Country what it will Sir, replied she, you deserve much commendation, and though I have known you but one poor quarter of an hour only, yet I am sure I shall never speak of you but shall applaud you. As Arpasia said so, her Coach came up, and Meliantes having answered as one who had some reason not to describe his country, she urged him no further. But Meliantes understanding that she was to stay in the town, he begged the honour to visit her, and she was willing to satisfy his desire; so that parting very civility from Meliantes, she took Coach, and I with her. But Madam, all the way to the town we talked of nothing but Meliantes and commended his Behaviour, his Garb, his Air, and his Spirit. Also I understood since, that all the rest of that day he talked of nothing unto his companion, but of Arpasias' beauty, and after he had a long time talked and walked by the river side, he returned to the Town, with his friend, and returned thither with intentions to inquire more particularly of the cause of Gabrias his voyage; and indeed he met with a fit opportunity as I shall tell you afterwards. On the other side, Arpasia was so hugely satisfied with Meliantes that she told her Father whom she had met withal, relating how he had informed her concerning the pillar of Sesostris: Also she enquired of the man at whose house she lodged, whether he knew such a stranger as she described, but he answered that he knew him not, further than that, he had been three days in the town, & that he seemed to be a man of very good rank adding that the next morning after he came, he sent a servant some whither, and since that, he did nothing but walk continually with his friend and inquire very particularly concerning the Country. But Madam, whilst Arpasia was enquiring concerning Meliantes, Meliantes was also enquiring very diligently concerning Arpasia, and fell in with a servant of Gabrias, whom he met in a great plain before the Temple of that town: for since all strangers have a particular right to fall into discourse when they meet in a country, in which they are equally strangers, it was an easy matter for Meliantes to fail into discourse with this servant, who naturally loved to talk, and who told him more than ever Meliantes asked: For he did not only acquaint him, that Gabrias was going unto Alfenes; but he told him also, that he was going to marry his Daughter unto Astidamus: Further, hinting to him that Arpasia did not love him, nor was pleased with the marriage, and out of his excessive zeal to Arpasia, to justify her aversion, he acquainted him with the irregular demeanour of Astidamus.  
Thus Meliantes did as perfectly know the state of Arpasias' fortune, as if he had known her from her Cradle: And understanding that Gabrias would stay some days in that place, he intended to visit him the next morning; & accordingly did so with his friend whose name was Phormion. Since Arpasia had spoken very advantageously of Meliantes unto her father, he entertained him very civility: and his person was so fit to please, and his way was every way so noble, that he got a good opinion at the very first sight: For he was big; of a noble stature; and of an admirable deportment.  
Moreover his hair was chest nut colour, his face something long his eyes brown: Teeth white, mouth handsome, and his physiognomy so ingenious, that it spoke him witty before he spoke: yet he spoke most excellently well though his accent was something different from ours▪ and though Meliantes was already knowing in so many several things as it was a wonder considering his age, how he should attain unto it; yet his conversation, was natural and easy: and spoke with such facility, that one might see he spoke no more than what he knew, though he spoke of every thing▪ at lest I am sure, I never heard him speak any thing which I would have unsaid again, also he composed verse excellently, and writ admirable prose; he had a quick fancy, a sparkling wit, A pleasant humour; a noble heart, and most generous inclinations he courted all persons of any extraordinary merit with a strange desire of acquaintance: and could so finely insinuate himself into their spirits, that they no sooner were acquainted with him, but he got their esteem and affection: All that knew him, knew him to have a most tender heart, and passionate soul: And when he had any design to oblige any one, he used such expressions, as when he spoke of friendship, one would have thought, he spoke of love.  
Meliantes then being thus amiable did exceedingly please Gabrias, who desired his company as long as he stayed in that place; he would by all means have him at dinner with his friend Phormion, who without all doubt was a man of much merit: and to complete his good fortune, Gabrias desired him to visit Arpasia, who dined that day in private: and Meliantes willingly obeying where his own inclination invited him, he went unto Arpasias' chamber, who was glad to see him. Since they had already so much esteem of each other, as to desire an augmentation of it, it seemed by their conversation, that they had no designs to conceal their wits; & they showed them without any affectation: their discourse were so pleasing & diverting that all the company had shares in their joys of confirming that esteem which they had of each other. The principal subject of their conversings was that universal chain of all things in the world; which if one link be but changed a hundred thousand links will change also. For truly (said Arpasia unto Meliantes very sweetly) if Sesostris had never passed out of Africa into Asia, perhaps I should never have spoken to you: For than he had never erected that pillar upon which I sat, which was the commencement of our acquaintance: and if old time had not defaced it, I should never have known you; for had the inscription been fair, my father would have understod it, and I should not have had any need of you. So that I am a debtor unto two very different things, for the pleasure which I have in your company First unto that illustrious conqueror, who erected that Column. Secondly to time, which did ruin it, and which made me stand in need of your help to satisfy my curiosity. I beseech you Madam (said Meliantes and smiled) remember what you say, that if ever my acquaintance should become troublesome to you, you may still accuse Sesostris and not me: And I should be very glad you should think, there is a fatal necessity upon all things in the world, to the end you may complain against destiny, if ever my visits become tedious to you. I cannot tell Sir, replied she, whether I should have any cause to complain, against that which first made us acquainted, but I am sure I shall complain against you, if you will not acquaint me more precisely who you are. I have already told you Madam, replied he, one of the reasons which hinders me, and I shall not despair; but hereafter I may tell you the rest, if I do not acquaint you with what you desire to know: you speak Sir replied she as if we were to live out all our lives together: and yet in all probability we shall quickly part. Since you neither know who I am Madam, replied he, and smiled) nor what my business is, for ought you know, my business is to the place unto which you go. my wishes do so seldom happen (replied she) that I cannot believe that, and I am persuaded that accomplished men are so far from coming unto the place whether I go that I should rather banish all that are there. your language Madam, is so obliging (replied Meliantes) that though I had no businesseat Alfenes, yet it is my duty to go thither only to make myself worthy of these honours, you have done me. But Madam, to tell you something of my fortune, be pleased to know, that being in an humour of travel, I have seen all Greece and having contracted an intimate amity with Phormion my friend unto whom I am obliged for all the pleasures I have found in his country, I came to show him all Asia, as he hath showed me all Greece: therefore Madam, having no other business but to show him what Asia hath most rare and admirable, I cannot do better than follow you, since there can be nothing more excellent than yourself: But truly Madam (added he) since I find you to be as full of modesty as beauty; and that your own deserved praises make you blush. give me leave to tell you that I go unto Alfenes only to see the strange and admirable lake of Arethusus which the Tiger crossed. This being a business more rational than the other (replied she) I shall be glad you intent it, and shall hope to have your good company the longer. Since Phormion had not the language which Arpasia spoke very perfectly, he said little this first visit: but that little he said, spoke him worthy to be the friend of Meliantes.  
In the mean time, night drawing on, Arpasia went to walk in a pleasant garden and Mediantes waited upon her, so as he saw her, and talked with her a whole afternoon together. He returned the same night unto Gabrias, and went the next morning unto Arpasia, with whom he was exceedingly charmed, and unto whom he was very welcome: Also she spoke of him unto me, with many testimonies of esteem. Her aversion to Astidamus was a great advantage unto him, and she thought it some sweetness that she esteemed others more than she did him; But Niside (said she unto me one evening when Meliantes had spent the whole day with her) what think you of this stranger? am I not very unfortunate to meet with excellent men for my friends, and with a husband whom I hate? But alas, my fate is sad, in meeting with Astidamus in lieu of Meliantes? the one is infinitely agreeable to my mind, The other is a man between whom, and me there is an invincible Antipathy, and yet I must pass away all my days with him: This, this is a rigour which I am not able to endure. Me thinks, this would be a revenge upon this injustice, if I should bestow my esteem upon Meliantes: and I have every moment a fancy to meet with men whom I can esteem and love; to the end that when I come unto Alfenes, I should have so disposed of all my esteem and amity, that I should not be able to esteem or love any I shall find there. As for amity Madam, replied I, I conceive that it is limited unto a certain number of persons, beyond which it cannot go: But as for esteem I am confident that you being just, will, whether you will or no, esteem all you shall think worthy so to be; you will esteem even in Astidamus, all that is esteemable: Truly Niside (said she to me) my thoughts of him are such, as I am not able to do justice unto the goodness that is in him: Not but that I do much condemn myself for it, but yet I cannot choose and am so little mistress of myself, and the motions of my own heart, that I believe Meliantes had good reason to tell me that all must be attributed unto destiny: For I am persuaded that many things which we think we do out of choice, are yet indeed done out of a compulsive necessity, This than Madam, was the temper of Arpasias' mind, all the while we stayed at that place where we met with Meliantes, and our stay was longer than we imagined: for many messengers and messages passed between Protogenes and Gabrias concerning business which was altogether unknown to me: and which had no relation to any thing but the league which they made against the King of Assyria, upon which only the marriage of Arpasia did depend. Thus Meliantes did enjoy the sight of Arpasia more in twelve days that we stayed there, than possibly he could in three months in a great town: Also it may very well be said, that he knew her so well that he knew her too much for his tranquillity, For he fell as desperately in love with her as ever man was, with any: Yet he told none of it at that time except Phormion unto whom he was forced to confess his growing affection: lest he should thwart his design of staying longer at Alfenes than they intended; and as we understood since he was put unto a pitiful plunge: For Madam, be pleased to know, that Meliantes was really called Clidaris, of a family very noble in a Province of Assyria, and departing very young from the house of his Father, he had traveled ever since. But the better to understand this adventure, I must also tell you, that when he departed, he had a sister whose name was Cleonide, who at three years of age was sent to Alfenes by her Father, who had lost his Wife; and who sent her thither to be educated with one of his sisters, who was married there, so as Meliantes had both a sister & an aunt in that place unto which we were to go; but such a sister and aunt as unto whom he was unknown; for his aunt was married in Alfenes before he was born, and his sister was so young when he departed, that he could neither know her nor be known; But his greatest plunge was, that in his showing Asia unto his friend Phormion, he had been at Samosates, where his friend fell sick: And the worst was he stayed there a long time in courting the affection of a sister unto Astidamus whose name was Argelise. For since the mother of Astidamus loved her daughter very well, she stayed there with her, so that Meliantes having made a further progress into her affection then ever he hoped, when he first began to court her, he now found himself put to a cruel plunge, considering the present state and passion of his soul. Phormion also was much surprised when he discovered his friends love; I beseech you friend, (said he unto him) do but consider a little the state of things, ponder upon the sad sequels of your passion, and the small hopes you have to have in it: For you love a Lady, who within these eight days is to be married unto a man, whose sister believes that you will eternally love her: And the truth is Madam, Argelise was of that opinion. Yet thus much must be said in Meliantes defence, that she did more contribute unto his Error than he did; for I have perfectly understood since that when he first saw her at Samosates, his courtship was only a certain particular civility which many would never have phrased love, though she did so interpret it.  
But the reason why this Lady did so easily believe people loved her, was, because she knew very well she was amiable, and was persuaded all men were apt for Love than amity; and that if any man was assiduous in his visits, presently she thought him to be in Love with her: So that since she pleased Meliantes, he saw her oft enough to persuade her he was in Love: and she having a strong inclination to him, she entertained him as a man both loved, and in love with her. But since she could not carry it so, without Meliantes knowing her thoughts, he complied very much with her, and did himself think he was in Love: For he saw that she was fair, that she pleased him, and that then he loved none but her. Yet upon serious examinion of his thoughts, that kind of affection which he bore unto Argelyse, was rather a gallant kind of friendship, than a violent Love: And yet he hath acknowledged, that when he was separated from her, he believed himself in Love, and was never out of that opinion, until he fell in Love with Arpasia.  
In the mean time, most certain it is, that when he left Argelise, he gave her very obliging language: And I am persuaded that if he had never seen Arpasia, he had continued loving Argelise. And indeed, when he resolved to go unto Alfenes, and show the Lake of Arethusus unto Phormeon, his design was to Court the affection of Astidamus, though he had no intention then to make himself known; not thinking it fit to appear in the place where his Sister dwelled, until he was in better equipage. Also he left off his right Name, and assumed that of Meliantes, purposely to disguise himself from Cleonide, until he had a Train proportionable to his Quality: As for his face, she could not know it, for the reasons aforesaid.  
But Phormion having lamed his Horse by leaping over a d 〈…〉 h, the pretended Meliantes sent his servant unto the next good Town to get another; and whilst they stayed for his return, the meeting with Arpasia, made such a strange revolution in the heart and designs of Meliantes, that Phormion could not choose but wonder to see his friend so wrapped beyond all reason with his passion: So as he used all his persuasions, arguments and reasons to avert him from this growing passion. I had rather never see the Lake of Arethusus (said Phormion unto him) than to go unto Alfenes, and see you become the most miserable man alive: And I had rather be the most miserable man upon Earth (replied Meliantes) than be separated from Arpasia: But do not think friend (added he) that I have submitted without resistance: No, I have tried all ways to quench my flames, and to revive my affection unto Argelise. Furthermore, I plainly see the oddness of my design, and the alteration in my heart towards Astidamus is the strangest thing in the world: For men may love or hate others whom they do know, and alter their minds, but I think it was never heard, that one should love, or hate a man whom he never saw: Yet my design was to purchase the Love of Astidamus, and I have changed my mind before I know him. For though when I came hither, my intention was to love him, yet now I have a disposition to hate him: Truth is, there is a great alteration in the cause; for when I first saw the fair and tempting Arpasia, I considered him as the Brother of my Mistress, but now look upon him, as my Rival.  
But friend (said Phormion) without any arguments drawn from Argelise to cure your new-taken-up passion, I will only ask you upon what bottom do you ground any hopes? I ground my hopes (replied he) upon Arpasias' hating Astidamus, and this thought affords me more delight than I am able to express. But friend, replied Phormion, though she do hate him, yet she intends to marry him. 'Tis true, she doth so, answered he, but she intends it with reluctancy: But if you would have me tell you how ingenious my passion is to frame a chimerical hope which hath no foundation but only upon the greatness of my Love: I must tell you, my dear Phormion, that Arpasia cannot choose but hate Astidamus, and that she hath done all she is able, to love him, but cannot: and it is not impossible but I may be that happy one whom she may desire to hate, but cannot. Alas Meliantes (said Phormion) that heart must needs be too much stung with Love, which can forge any such false-grounded hopes as these. I confess it friend (replied he) and my folly is not yet so great, but I can see it: Yet there is no other remedy for my misery, and therefore I must love Arpasia, and wait upon her to Alfenes. In so doing (replied Phormion) you wait upon her to her Marriage, and perhaps you will see Argelise there: Oh cruel friend (said Meliantes then) do not blast me with such dire predictions, but let me reason the matter after my own way: But I pray friend, reylyed Phormion, how can you reason it to your own advantage? Those who never knew how to love (replied Meliantes) are not able to find out such reasons as one that is in Love can: And I believe it is a more easy matter for an Egyptian to understand the Language of a Persian untaught, than it is for a man who is not in Love, to understand the thoughts of a Lover: But be it as it will, I will love Arpasia until I know that she loves Astidamus. But what though she should hate him as long as she lives (said Phormion to him) you yet are not a jot the better. I know not what I shall be (replied he) but I am sure I cannot do what I would: and though Argelise should be there, yet I should not change my mind: Not but that I know very well, my passion has a very ill foundation: but yet I will love the fair Arpasia, though it be only to make it appear that Love is able to grow and subsist without any hopes; at least I am sure the grandeur of her beauty will be a good excuse for my weakness: and to speak rationally, it is a great injustice to desire any one unto more than he is able; wisdom would cease to be wisdom, if it should move one unto impossibilities. And therefore my dear Phormion, since I am not able to overcome my passion, I beseech you humour me in my weakness: and to make me less miserable, help me to delude myself. This Madam, was the state of Meliantes soul: Phormion seeing it was in vain to check the love of his friend, and that his disease did every moment increase, did a little yield unto him, and according to his first design resolved to go unto Alfenes.  
In the mean time, Meliantes being all complacence unto Gabrias, he quickly got his love: So as making use of that amity, and desiring to be as inseparable as he could from Arpasia, he beseeched Gabrias to let him wait upon him to Alfenes, and that Phormion and he might pass in the number of those who waited upon him in this voyage, either to honour him, or to satisfy their Curiosity. You may well think, Madam, that Meliantes was not denied; for since his request was agreeable unto the desire of Gabrias, and an honour unto him, he granted it with much joy. Meliantes also carried the matter so handsomely, that none could suspect he had any secret thoughts in his soul: And Arpasia did think that the drift of his request was only to be better received in that petty Court, in which Arpasia herself was the fairest Star. However, since she esteemed him very much, she was glad of his design: and now looking upon him as a friend, whom she was not like to lose so soon, she behaved herself more obligingly towards him; and likewise he towards her so respectively, that she could not choose but be very well satisfied with him: Also she began to speak more sincerely to him, and forcing herself less than ordinary, she would sometimes sigh before him; and not telling him the cause, she would show him some of her sorrows.  
But Madam, how joyful was her sadness to him? thinking it to be only an effect of her hatred unto his Rival. And it often fell out, that this fair one would speak unto me in his presence concerning her aversion to Astidamus, thinking that he did not understand the meaning; but he was better informed than she imagined, for he understood all as well as I did, and he was so joyed as it may be said that Arpasias' hatred of Astidamus was one cause of Meliantes Love unto Arpasia.  
But in conclusion, all the Negotiations between Protogenes and Gabrias being ended, Gabrias told his Daughter one Evening, that they must depart in the Morning, and that Astidamus would meet her half way between that, and Alfenes. You may well imagine how Arpasia resented this news, for she had some far fetched hopes that perhaps Protegenes and Gabrias would jar during this long Negotiation, and that her Marriage with Astidamus would break off. Meliantes was also as sad as sad could be, but he did so handsomely palliate the Cause, that Arpasia observing him, did imagine that her Sorrows only was the cause of his: yet she did force and temper her Grief by her Virtue and Prudence. But when I was alone with her, she would ease her heart by complaining: Meliantes also for his particular did the same, when he was in private with his Friend Phormion.  
In the mean time, the Servant of Meliantes being returned in good time, with a very fine Horse, which he had bought for his Master's Friend, he prepared to wait upon Gabrias and Arpasia, and to advance towards his Rival. It would be extreme rashness in me, Madam, to attempt the relation of all Meliantes and Arpasias' thoughts upon this occasion; for I think it is impossible for any to express them, unless they were Sufferers in the same Predicament with them.  
The Miseries which Arpasia apprehended drawing near, and desiring to ease her Soul by Complaints, she would have me only with her in the Coach: Yet I was rather an Aggravater than an Easer of her Sorrows; For since I verily believed that she must of necessity marry Astidamus, I endeavoured to persuade her that those good Qualities he had might very well excuse his bad ones: For truly, Madam, said I, unto her, doubtless he is handsome, he has a good wit, and brave carriage, his company is pleasant and merry, and if one did not know the irregularity of his behaviour, all things desirable might be found in him. Moreover, Madam, since it is not the custom for Persons of your Quality to have the liberty of choosing your Husbands, Fortune commonly chooseth them better for you than your Reason can. Alas Niside (said she unto me) your Arguments are but weak Consolations; I know Astidamus hath some good personal Qualities, and so far I could willingly let some good ones excuse the bad ones, but since all his Excellencies consist in his Person, and since all his bad Qualities are in his Inclination and Soul, I cannot poise one against another to comfort myself; and there is something so Antipatheous between Astidamus and me, as I cannot tell whether the interest of mine own Glory be prevalent enough to make me sacrifice all the Joys of my life unto him. This, Madam, was the discourse of Arpasia and me, as we traveled.  
As for Meliantes he was in a worse condition, for Gabrias talked with him all that day, and told him as a great favour that he would present him unto Astidamus as soon as ere they met. At last we entered into a great Plain, and saw a body of Cavalry coming out of a Wood towards us: Arpasia making no question but that it was Astidamus, the very sight had like to have broken all her Resolutions of constraining herself, and if the Plain had been shorter, certainly she had wanted time to recollect herself. On the other side, Meliantes being upon the point to see him who was to enjoy her, he loved; his heart did beat a most strange disorderly March; yet he had one more struggle with himself, and endeavoured to look upon Astidamus rather as the Brother of Argelise, than as the Lover of Arpasia: but alas all in vain. He no sooner spied this body of Cavalry which appeared, but he looked towards Arpasia, and endeavoured to observe her thoughts, and finding nothing in her face but sad Meiancholly, he was extremely well satisfied. In the mean time, Gabrias not heeding either the sadness of Arpasia, nor the Inquietude of Meliantes, he said he would mend his pace, to meet him who was coming towards them, and so he did, so as Meliantes followed as the rest did, and made haste to see a man whom he had desired never to see. The Interveiw of Gabrias and Astidamus had all the Civilities and Ceremonies usual at such meetings: Astidamus alighted first from his Horse, and Gabrias after him, and walking towards one another, they embraced with many expressions of satisfaction. After which Gabrias turned him about, intending to present Meliantes unto Astidamus, thinking he was behind him. But this concealed Lover desirous to defer the Embraces of his Rival, had mixed himself with the rest of his Retinue; so as by this means, he was constramed to present them all as they came up: But when he came unto Meliantes, Gabrias made a more particular Eulogy concerning him, purposely to render his Merit the more recommendable unto Astidamus, who received him most civility: So as this unfortunate Lover was forced to render unto his Rival, Civility for Civility. Phormion also was well received by Astidamus, and this Interview passed better betwixt Arpasia and him.  
But to tell you how it was, be pleased to know, that whilst Gabrias was presenting all his Retinue unto Astidamus, our Coach was still advancing, so as we came to the place where these Compliments passed, just as Astidamus had ended: and coming then towards Arpasia, doubtless it was expected she should command the Coachman to stop: but her mind being extremely troubled, she said not a word, so as the Coachman went on: And I think, if Gabrias had not cried out unto him to stay, Arpasia would have let him to drive on, though she saw Astidamus well enough coming towards her.  
On the other side, there appeared so much disorder in the Countenance of this Lover, that in all my life I never saw the like: For my part, I believe it was an effect of his anger, that Arpasia would not command her Coach to stay; and because he found such a faint coldness in the face of that fair one.  
In the mean time, as I desired to come out of the Coach, to let him have the more liberty of talk with Arpasia, he would not permit it, but told Gabrias, who presented him to his Daughter, that Protegenes expected them with much impatience, and that he would not retard him from a benefit which he wished so much to receive one, which he did not deserve. Astidamus, Madam, spoke this with a kind of forced Civility, though naturally he had a free way, and air with him: so as it was easy to perceive that his mind was perplexed. Many who observed the agitation of his soul, did believe this to be an effect of the Grandeur of his passion: but for my part, I always believed it to be an effect of his anger.  
In the mean while Meliantes, who slunk away when Gabrias should have presented him unto Astidamus, he drew as near as he could possible, to see the meeting of Arpasia and him; and indeed he got so near, that he could observe every motion in their countenances, especially in Arpasias, whom he eyed more than he did Astidamus: for presupposing him to be in love with her, he never looked in his eyes: But hoping to find some sparks of aversion in the eyes of Arpasia, he observed her with so much attention, that whosoever saw him, might plainly perceive that he was deeply concerned in the business. At lest Phormion told me so since; for my part, I looked upon none but Astidamus only, and wondered to see so much discontent in his face at a time when he should have been all joy, that I know not what to think. However, after some short and slight Compliments the Coach went on: Gabrias, Astidamus, and all the rest took Horse and went before: So as I being at liberty to speak my thoughts unto Arpasia, I told her she did not well in not commanding the Coach to stay: Alas Niside (said she to me) I never thought upon any such command: and had I followed my own inclination, I should have given a command quite contrary: But Niside (said she to me) I think it very strange, that in lieu of upbraiding Astidamus for his faint and hollow accoust, you do accuse me, and not him. Since Madam, your incivility did precede his faintness (said I very boldly unto her) I must hear him speak, before I can wonder at his proceeding: For I do verily believe, that his anger at what you did, was the cause of his cold behaviour. However it be (said she) he did me a very great pleasure in receiving me no better; yet I am very angry at it. To be pleased and angry both at one thing, replied I, is very strange: Yet I am both (replied she) for my joys at what he hath done, proceeds principally from his angrying me. Truly Madam (said I unto her) you move me to abundance of pity, to see you so careful to hate a man with whom you are to pass away all your life. Since I am sure (answered she) that it is absolutely impossible I should ever love him: my best course is to find some comfort in my hatred of him, and that I do persuade myself it is just, lest I should be constrained to accuse myself.  
In the mean time, being come to the River Tigris, Astidamus by orders from Protogenes, did make us take upon the left hand, purposely to show Arpasia the Lake of Arethusus, through which the Tigris passeth, and never mingles waters. Afterwards, turning towards the Town, we entered at a Port towards the Plain, where Gabrias and Arpasia received many Compliments from Protogenes, I shall omit the tedious relating how all the Inhabitants of the goodly Town were in Arms; how all the streets were full of people, how the windows were adorned with Ladies of quality, and how Protogenes stood expecting at the gate of his Palace, not being able to go any further. Since this meeting had nothing observable in it, I shall pass it over: Yet I must tell you, how Astidamus having recollected himself out of that disorder of mind, the cause of which we do not know, he helped Arpasia out of her Coach; and after Protogenes had saluted her, did wait upon her to her Chamber, so as now the Torments of Meliantes and Arpasia did begin to double. Yet Astidamus did not trouble her that night: for since she feigned herself to be very weary, he left her to the liberty of her rest: But the next morning she must prepare herself to receive the visits of all the persons of quality in Alfenes of both sexes. It was some comfort unto her that Astidamus came not near her all that day; for since Protogenes could neither go nor ride, by reason of some infirmities, it was the Office of Astidamus to show Gabrias all the Town: but in exchange, Meliantes spent all the day with Arpasia, and was a witness of all the visits which she received: So as knowing the names of his Aunt, and sister, which dwelled in Alfenes, though he knew not their faces, nor they him, he care ully asked the names of all the Ladies which came into Arpasias' Chamber, and long he asked in vain: But at last towards evening, there came a grave Lady well in years, and a young one following, admirably fair, whose names he also enquired: and presently he was told that the ancient Lady's name was Ferinte, and the young ones Cleonide, so as now he knew the one to be his Aunt, and the other his Sister. Yet he would not make himself known unto them; nor trust himself unto two persons whose tempers he did not know: nor would he tell Phormion which were they, nor could Phormion know which were they unless Meliantes told him, because he knew not their names, only knew that he had an Aunt, and a Sister at Alfenes. However Cleonide being the fairest and most lovely of all that Arpasia had seen in Alfenes, she received her with as particular civility, as if she had known her to be the sister of Meliantes.  
This Lover flattering his passion, and observing the sweetness of Arpasia unto Cleonide, he imagined that it was rather an effect of a strong inclination than of beauty: So as making this application unto his advantage, he hoped that perhaps she might have the same inclination unto the Brother which she had unto the Sister. But the very truth is, Arpasia did only render justice unto the merit of Cleonide: And indeed Madam, a more amiable person could not be upon earth than she; for not only all the features of her face were so many particular beauties, but also she had the Air of a high beauty; and all the charms which sweetness itself could infuse into fair eyes, were questionless in hers: She had also such a kind of passionate Languor, as whosoever saw her, could not choose but think themselves blest in her Love: Moreover she spoke admirably well, and was such a professed Enemy unto all kind of detraction, that she would give even her Enemies a good word when they deserved it: And if any fault could be found in Cleonide, it was in having a soul too apt to trust such as promised amity; for as she would deceive none, so she thought none would deceive her: and yet this fault did make her appear much more amiable, because she was the very Emblem of sincerity, and that confidence which she had in others, did make her much more charming: Yet she was a little sad the first day Arpasia saw her: And Astidamus after he had carried Gabrias unto the Chamber of Protogenes, he entered into that of Arpasia, who redoubled her commendations when she saw him, telling him that she admired he should never speak of Cleonides beauty, when Protogenes sent him unto Gabrias. Arpasia wondered also he should never mention her unto her. This obliging civility of Arpasia did not only make her unto whom it was addressed to blush, but also it made some alteration in the face of Astidamus; and made him answer as if he were a little nonplussed. Yet those who took notice of it, believed that the reason was, because he was unwilling to commend one beauty in the presence of another. As for Meliantes, he conceived (as he told me since) that had he been in the room of Astidamus, he should have been answered otherwise; for my part (said he, and spoke unto Arpasia) I am fully persuaded Madam, that such a beauty as yours does so much take up the thoughts of those who behold it, that they have not the liberty of remembering any other. You have very good reason, Sir, to speak as you do (replied Cleonide) being a little nettled) and I assure you, I should think myself much obliged unto that person who should think of me in the presence of Arpasia. Meliantes knowing that Cleonide was his Sister, and that it would be known to all hereafter, he valued not his sister's anger, at his under-valuing her beauty, and attributing all unto Arpasia, imagining that when she knew him to be her Brother, she would pardon him.  
In the mean time, since she knew it not, she could not choose but contradict Meliantes in all his discourse. As for Astidamus, he was so backward in any obliging expressions unto Arpasia, that every one took special notice of it: She herself also perceived it as well as the rest, and better: So that after all the company was gone out of her Chamber, she spoke unto me with so much anger, as made me pity her. Would not any one say that heard Astidamus speak (said she unto me) that he was already my Husband? and conceiving it fit not to commend the beauty of his Wife, he durst not speak to me at all: Judge I beseech you what he would do, if I should marry him. I profess he behaves himself so oddly, that if a stranger were in the company; and were told that I had a Lover amongst them who was to marry me, he would never guests it to be Astidamus, but would rather think it Meliantes: And to speak the very truth, Astidamus looks like a Husband dashed out of countenance with the commendations that is given to his Wife: and Meliantes talks like a brave and civil Gallant, though he be none of mine.  
For my part Madam (said I unto her, though I thought it not) I think Astidamus is so deeply in Love with you, that he is out of his wits, for he was no such man the first time I saw him, Fie, fie, Niside (said she unto me) if Astidamus were out of his wits for the love of me, and did commit any incivilities, they would be of another nature: and he would sooner disoblige all at the beauties in Alfenes then disoblige me as he hath done, in commending me so faintly as he hath done. As soon as Arpasia had said so, she received very welcome news from Gabrias, for a servant of his came to acquaint her from him in secret, that Protogenes and he were resolved not to proceed unto the Marriage of Astidamus and her, until they had sent to ask the new King of Assyria's leave, & not to break off with him till the Army of Cyrus was in the Field, which was not yet near them enough to declare without danger: adding, that in the mean time they would give secret orders to make sure of the Soldiers, to the end that when they did declare they might be considerable unto that Prince whose part they should take. Arpasia hearing that her misery was at least deferred, she was joyed beyond all expression.  
On the other side, Meliantes learning to know the passions of others by his own, he thought that Astidamus was not in Love with Arpasia: so that applying himself to discover his thoughts, he observed him with all vigilancy: and the truth is, when Astidamus did strain himself to speak Arpasia fair, one might plainly see that his spirit had not its ordinary liberty, but was in a continual constraint. Moreover, the presence of Arpasia was no hindrance unto him from spending most of his time in such diversions and recreations as most suited with his own inclination, as much as if she had been absent; for he played both night and day at those sports and games which the Lydians invented: Also he used many obscure and unknown visits, and none knew how he spent half his time, nor what he did. But though Astidamus was very slow in his visits of Arpasia, yet Meliantes was very assiduous, and was continually with her, with whom he was grown a most intimate Confident.  
However, Protogenes being noble and magnificent every way, he made continual Feasts and Banquets; and amongst the rest, he prepared one most gallant, to set forth the variety of the Arethusean Lake: And the better to describe it unto you Madam, give me leave to speak something of the course of that famous River which runs by Alfenes, and crosseth the Lake of Arethusa; for indeed Madam, the River Tigers hath this particularity, that one little spring which riseth from the Mountain Nithates is the Mother of this River. Truth is, it doth not all the way own the same name; for being very gentle in its first source, the Inhabitants of the Country do call it Diglito, as much as to say, slow, and lazy: and it doth not take the name of Tigers, which signifies an Arrow, until by falling from some grounds which it doth water, it hath gotten the rapidity and swiftness of an Arrow; and when it comes to Alfenes, where that great and famous Lake of Arethusa is, it runs through it with such impetuosity, that its waters do not mingle with it: and the Fishes being carried by the violence of its course, do not mingle with those of the Lake; nor those of the Lake, with them of the River.  
On the contrary, this turbulent water is so opposite unto the nature of those Fishes which the Lake doth nourish, that they never come near the place where the River runs: so as it may very truly be said, the Lake and the River are continually together, and yet always separate, since they never mingle. This River hath besides many singularities which are worthy of curiosity: but I must not insist upon them, because it is my business to speak of the Lake and the Feast which was made upon it: and only to let you know, that Protegenes having a desire to make it appear that all the wonders of the Lake were true, his design was to make a very noble Feast upon it, since it had more variety of diversion than any other. 'Tis true, that Astidamus was very busy at this Feast, and took great care of it: and had he behaved himself towards Arpasia, as he ought to have done when he spoke unto her, she had good reason to be well satisfied with this magnificence. Yet justice must be done unto Meliantes upon occasion, for he did contribute much unto the inventions of this: And the better to describe unto you, Madam, be pleased to know; That as soon as Dinner was done, all the Ladies accompanied with those men who were to wait upon them, came unto the banks of the Lake, the Ladies in Coaches, the men on Horses: Yet before I tell you what we found there, and what we saw, I must represent unto you that Noble and lovely Prospect which that place did offer unto the eye. Imagine that you saw a Lake of so large an extent as it seemed to be a little Sea; but a Sea most serene and calm, where no waves or billows were tossed by the winds; and where the waters were only frizzled by such a gentle gale which did not threaten any shipwreck. And imagine also you saw afar off a great and pleasant Country watered by the River Tigris; which coming with impetuous force enters into this Lake which crosseth it, and as I told you before, keeps still its natural swiftness: So as in the midst of this quiet and sleeping water, may be seen this turbulent River, rolling its waves one after another with such precipitation, as if it would overflow a pleasant Meadow, near which stands the Town of Alfenes.  
The very colour of the waters are so different, as it is most apparent they do not mingle: But that which renders this object the more beautiful, is two stately Pavilions built at the entrance; and at the issue of the River, into, and out of this Lake, purposely to see more conveniently the wonderful passage of this River, and to view the pleasant prospect. But Madam, to return from whence I digressed, give me leave to tell you, that when all the company was come to the Lake, there was thirty little Barks painted and gilded with stately Tents and Canopies, to umbrage the Ladies from the Sun's heat, so as since every Bark would hold eight or ten persons, besides those who guided it; there might be in each so much good company as not to trouble one another: and as commonly every one strives to suit their company to their best content, it is to be believed that every one was well pleased that day. For none was forced into any particular ●arge, but every one culled themselves as they best liked, without any Ceremony, or consideration of Rank. Yet it was not altogether so: for since some out of their Prudence do constrain themselves, there were some who were not placed where they desired to be.  
Arpasia being much taken with Cleonide, she would needs have her and two others in her Barge, where also she was pleased to have me. Also she desired Meliantes to be there; and as for Astidamus he must be there for more reasons than one. As for Protogenes and Gabrias, they were in another, with others suitable to their gravity and age. But when these thirty Barges were all filled, and the pleasant Fleet began to sail upon the Lake, it made the most delightful object in the world. Besides these thirty Barges which were designed for the Company, there were many others which held Musicians and Servants, which made a most melodious harmony upon the waters. Besides these, there were other designs for Fishers in the River, that it might be apparently seen, the Fishes which were taken in the one, were not the same with the other, although the River run through the Lake. And indeed Madam, the wonder is without any doubt: For our Fleet being sometimes upon the Lake; and sometimes upon the River Tigris, we saw their Nets full of fishes twenty several times, and never found one fish of the lake in the nets that were cast into the river, Nor one fish of the river in any net that was cast into the Lake. though the nets were thrown at a very considerable distance, so as the sight seemed to be incredible. but it was extreme delightful to be sometimes in the calm, and sometimes upon the rough waters: For when we were upon the Lake, we moved unperceiveable, and it might be termed rather a sliding than a sailing, but when we passed from the lake on to the current of the river, we perceived the motion as if it were upon the sea, so as we were most of our time upon the lake where we found most pleasure and most safety: and yet there was not one person who was not desirous to be upon both. But after variety of delights upon the waters, we rowed towards the stately pavilion which was erected at the entrance of the river Tigris into the lake of Arethusus. After landing, all the Ladies were conducted into a great and stately chamber, open on four sides, the better to enjoy this goodly prospect: As for the men, after they had waited upon the Ladies into this chamber, they mounted themselves upon horses which waited for them upon the banks of the river and in a hunting equipage, they prepared themselves. For Protogenes had caused several wild beasts to be taken in Toils and brought thither, and let loose; purposely to divert the Ladies. Thus all the gallants were turned hunters, and the Ladies out of windows spectators, the chase began, but could not run out of the Lady's sight, because the Lake and the river did bound them on both sides, & Protogenes had stopped the passages on the other sides with toils, and armed men: So as the Chase ran twenty times under the window of the Ladies; all the men being admirably well horsed, their habits rich and handsome, this hunting moved much delight. But after the hunting and the fishings were ended, and after the hunters and Fishers had offered the fruits of their labour unto Arpasia, the Ladies were conducted a story higher, where to our wonder we found a most rare collation full of magnificence and variety: yet this was not the conclusion of the diversion; for after we were risen from the Table, we went down again into the room where we viewed the hunting, and where a Ball began. I shall not make any precise relation of the Passages there; nor how unquiet Astidamus appeared: but give me leave to tell you Madam, that Arpasia appeared most admirably fair; and that Cleonide appeared as she was, for though it be very difficult to find two great beauties together, and the one not eclipse the other, yet the beauty of these two being very different, they both preserved their own Lustres. But as for all the rest of the Alfenian beauties, though very fair, yet they must all submit unto Arpasia and Cleonide. Amongst the rest of this assembly, there was one who must needs have a share in my discourse, who though she had no pretence in the earth unto any beauty, yet meddled with all the beauties that ever came within the compass of her acquaintance: for I do verily believe Madam, that since the time that detraction, and slander first began, there was never any so excellent at it as she: and considering the universal hatred which she bore unto all her acquaintance, one would say, she would be revenged upon all mankind; because the Gods had made her no fairer than she was. She would descant as boldly upon the faults of others, as if she had none herself. Yet most certain it is, she was very near of resemblance unto all that was uglyand disagreeable; yet she had such a kind of bold confidence as made men hardly dare to think of her, as she deserved.  
And yet for all that, there were some men, even rational men, who both saw her, and courted her, though I am persuaded there was some secret malignity of spirit in them which made them to take delight in those continual backbitings and slanders, which she vented. Moreover, all the malicious minded men in Alfenes did so flock unto her with such tales, as was fuel to her detracting humour, that none had better intelligence than she. Moreover, as there were many men in respect of their own honours would not speak so ill of others as she did, because they had an appearance of virtue; so they arrived at their desired end by contracting confidence with this person, whose name was Alcianipe: Thus sparing themselves the labour of detracting they did as much hurt by setting her on, as if they themselves had vented the slander, yes and more; for since it was the accustomed practice of Alcianipe to slander, she was grown wonderful ingenious in it: And for my part, I cannot choose but wonder at her memory of things: For Madam, if there were any family in Alfenes, which pretended unto Antiquity, she would frame their Genealogy after her mode, and so as should make you believe it was otherwise than as they pretended. Moreover, if any one of a family had committed any fault, though three ages since; yet all the family must be branded with it, and she would say it was a vice hereditary to all the house, As for the beauty of women she never commended any, but when it might serve her turn to make her pass for a gallant, or make her husband jealous. If she were to be credited, there was not a rich man in all Alfenes, nor any one that was noble nor a man that had not betrayed his friend, nor a woman that had not some private correspondency of gallantry.  
Again, she would play at small games, rather than sit out, and exercise herself in trivall scandals, every woman if fair, was always five or six years elder with her than with any else, and she had a wit so fit for such slanders, that she would make any almost believe her. For she would dress up her lies with such probable circumstances, as none could think she could invent them: And though she was known unto all the world to make open profession, of speaking all upon all, without any exception, yet there were a sort of men who did believe her: Furthermore, since she had made herself to be extremely feared, many women would visit her, although they knew well enough, that as soon as they were out of her house, she would give a Character to all those that remained: Yet since, they had a conceit that she would speak worst of them, if they did not visit her, they did see her though they never esteemed or loved her: And since many women are more joyed to hear ill spoken of such as they love not, than they are grieved to hear ill of themselves, they came to receive that satisfaction from Alcianipe, at the hazard of exposing themselves unto her Satirical lash; so as by this means she was as much visited, as if she was the best woman in the world. For my part, I confess, I have grumbled at my friends a thousand times for going to her, and I never went, but when I was forced, for I do hate, as I do the Devil such persons as spit all venom, and never speak any truth but when it may do hurt. Moreover, Alcianipe, did speak exceeding well, and made choice of such good phrases to set out her lies, that none living would imagine she forged them.  
This Alcianipe was at this feast, but she came thither with design to make false Descriptions of all that were there, unto Meliantes, who as chance would have it, sat next her; whilst Astidamus took out Arpasia to dance, and he hath since told me, that she had a lash at every one in the company, not excepting Arpasia, who she said was scurvily dressed that day, though heaven knows she was never better in her life.  
In the mean time, all the men of quality who followed Gabrias, being very desirous to know all those of that petty Court, there was one whose name was Pelinthes, who as any man took any Lady out to dance, he asked ●heir names and qualities; and she answering always according to her humour, Meliantes being one on side, and he on the other, they put a thousand questions to her. I beseech you (said Pelinthes, seeing a Lady of a good presence and quality) tell me who that Lady is? If you should judge of her by the Grandeur of her air (replied she) you would think her to be some kin to the Gods, and to say the truth (added she, to palliate her scandal) she is a very admirable Lady, for every action and word of hers speaks her of a royal race, yet heavens know, her grandfather was no better than a poor stranger, whose Original the Gods do know and none else, and those who are acquainted with her can tell you, she smells of the business of her ancestors in all her inclinations, and though she looks more like a Queen than a Subject, yet she speaks as if her education were amongst the basest sort of peasants: her carriage also displeaseth, she cannot so much as make a courtesy as others do, and has a most ill favoured gate: yet truly to speak truth, she is a very good woman. I beseech you (said Meliantes and interrupted her) what man is that who is in the corner of the room, and seems to be so melancholy? and what makes he here at a feast of joy, in so sad a posture? Truly Sir (said she) it is no wonder he should be so sad, for there are very few men who can endure their wives should love all the World; and as gallant as you are Sir, if you were in his room, confident I am, you would be as much perplexed as he is, for that gay and frolik Lady who you see at the other end of the room, and courted by so many men is his wife. I do verily believe her virtuous (added she) but yet she lives very suspiciously. The truth is, she cares not for her husband, she is perpetually from home, and co●r●ed continually by a crowd of gallants, whilst her poor husband for his honour's sake dare hardly show himself, but sleeps at home.  
In the mean time, 'tis he who pays for all the entertainment the wife makes unto her gallants, and for her rich dress which invites them to her, and I believe also pa●es for the pictures which she bestows upon her Adorers, and she is as jolly a Lady as ever lived unto those who visit her, and will take no notice of her behaviour, or her husband's misery.  
I am sure (replied Pelinthes', and showed her another Lady, who appeared very melancholy) that yonder Lady does not put her husband unto any such sorrows, at least she hath not the garb of gallantry. Truth is (said she) she does not make him jealous; but she torments him as bad another way: For she being a well accomplished woman, she thinks him too highly obliged unto her, and puts him to abundance of torment, for she is so jealous, as that she hates all the women she sees, and puts incivilities upon them, yet truly I think she cannot be accused of gallantry, for I believe her virtue was never put to the test. I see another, next her (replied Meliantes) who looks high enough to scorn her husband if she have one, you are not mistaken Sir (said she) for she being of a better family than him she married, she treats him more like a slave than a husband, and the worst is, because he is inferior unto her. she admits of gallants inferior unto him. Her Injustice is so great (replied Pelinthes) that I will no longer look upon her; but had rather ask you who the man is which is behind her, & is so magnificent? would not any one think, said she, that he was the owner of all the riches in the coffers of Croesus? and yet he is only a man of fortune witbout any Estate, nor can any tell how he lives: Some think that his expenses are at the cost of other men, and I believe the man who stands next Arpasia, prays for it, However, he whom you see next Protogenes, is hugely rich, but extremely covetous: The other next him is abominably prodigal though poor; that young Lady not far off him, is as very a gossip as ever lived, she in the blue is as crafty as ever lived, and that other in the carnation ribbons, is the most envious woman a live; for she is vexed to the heart if any other have any thing that is good. After his, Alcianipe looking upon all the company, and without any entreaties from Meliantes or Pelinthes, she began a most bitter invective and false, Satirical Character of every one there.  
Meliantes, seeing she had a good word from none. resolved to speak of his rival, and Alcianipe after a hint upon the ill dress of Arpasia, she began to commend her highly, on purpose to have a better occasion of blaming Astidamus: For (said she unto Meliantes) Considering his behaviour unto her, one would say that he did not think her fair, but 'tis no wonder (added she) for he is one of the most irregular minded men in the world; and had I been acquainted with Gabrias. I would have hindered him from giving his daughter unto a man of such a temper, than did she begin to tell him of all the extravagancies of Astidamus, 〈…〉 g a hundred things more than ever were true, but I am the most mistaken woman in the world, (said she) if Astidamus have not some secret haunts which withdraweth his mind from Arpasia: for he sometimes goes out very early, and comes in very late and none knows where he hath been, and sometimes an unknown messenger brings him letters, but 'tis no matter, I shall know the intrigue of the business within this eight days, and shall set so many spies upon him, that it shall be hard for him to escape me.  
Oh I beseech you let me a have share in your confidence (said Meliantes then unto her very earnestly,) with all my heart said she, upon condition that in your observation of Astidamus, you will acquaint me with all your discoveries. You may well imagine Madam, that Meliantes did willingly promise her what she desired, so their treaty ended, they parted, and all the company broke up. And the same barges which brought us thither, carried us back, for the Moon being at the full, and the heavens clear and serene, Protogenes foresaw it would be the most pleasant returning in the night: And indeed Madam, I do not think there ever was a more pleasant voyage than this of the night, the day being nothing comparable unto it, and universal silence reigned all over, and was not interrupted by any thing but only the no●e of oars, a gentle waft of wind brought the perfumes of the meadows upon the water: The Moon and the Stars were as well in the Lake as in the Firmament. But questionless, the greatest pleasure was in the conversation of Arpasia, Cleonide, Meliantes and Astidamus, for all returned in the same Barge in which they came. When we had put off from shore, and discoursed a little upon the finesse of the night, Arpasia having already heard enough concerning Alcianipe, and taking notice how Meliantes talked a long time with her, she began to ch●de him, and tell him that she could hardly pardon the choice he made: For to make use of a comparison which the place affords me, said she, The fishes in the river Tigris mingle not themselves with those of the Lake, nor they of the Lake with those of the river, even so would I have all the world do, for though the good and the bad be promisciously together in the world, yet I would never have them to mingle; but after the example of these fishes keep apart: Let the virtuous never have any commerce with the vicious, let the good be with the good, and the bad with the bad, the angry with the angry, the merry with the merry, wits with wits, fools with fools, and so like to like will ever be most suitable: I would not have Meliantes who is the freest man alive from detraction, hold conference with the most scandalising woman upon earth. I give you thanks Madam (replied Meliantes) for your wise advice; but perhaps Madam (said Cleonide, who owed Meliantes a spite since the first meeting) your are not so just as you imagine yourself, for I can put very small difference between him that can with delight hearken unto detraction, and her who doth detract, and therefore since Meliantes made choice of Alcianipes company, you do him too great a favour to say he is the freest from detraction of any man alive; for had he been a hater of it, he would have changed place, and betook himself unto better company than hers, he applied himself unto.  
Perhaps (replied Meliantes and smiled) the fair Cleonide will repent of the wrong she does me, when she knows me a little better; and in the mean time, I must tell her, that it was chance only, that brought me unto that place, where I met Alcianipe: And my curiosity to know, whether all the reports of her were true, made me hold discourse with her. However, replied Astidamus, I beseech you tell us, how you found her? Though to say, that Alcianipe was a little free in telling me her thoughts of every thing; does not imply that she is detractive (replied Meliantes) yet I must not tell what she said; but I had rather commend what the fair Arpasia hath said, than to blame Alcianipe for what she said: And the wish which the fair Arpasia made is altogether just, for fortune is most injurious in indissoluably linking the interests of persons who are of an opposite humour together, and forcing them to live miscelaniously together when they may find others, who are more suitable to their humour. I am confident (added Arpasia,) that there is no town in the world where such an equal partition may not be made, and where every one may please himself in his own Quarters, without going unto others. Where on the contrary, as things are disposed, there are few men who are not weary of what they are obliged to do, and of the the persons whom they are obliged to see, so it would be better if every one might please themselves. 'tis true, replied Astidamus, it were very well if it could be so, and if it could, I believe few would stay in the place where they are, I believe (said one of the Ladies in the company) there would be a change in most of the barges upon the Lake. Truly, I am so little worthy to be where I am (replied Meliantes most modestly) that I should fear abanishment. Indeed you have talked with Alcianipe so long, (replied Arpasia and smiled) that you do almost deserve it: but since, I am persuaded you talked with her, only to convert her from speaking ill of others, I assure you by my consent you should not change your place. For my part (said Astidamus, not so much as looking upon Arpasia) I am so well where I am, that rather than pass into another, I would throw myself into the lake, that testimony of affection which you express unto the company (replied Cleonide and both smiled and blushed) is not so great as perhaps the fair Arpasia imagines; for since iron will not sink if it be thrown into this lake, you would not be in any danger of drowning, if you should throw in yourself: And therefore to render the testimony of your esteem more valuable, you should say that you would throw yourself into the river which hath not that wonderful virtue that makes the Lake so famous. The Lake is so near the River (replied Astidamus and laughed) that you need not quarrel with me about it, unless you would have me understand by it, that I should go out of the barge, if Arpasias' wish should come to pass, and yet (added he upon second thoughts) I am persuaded, that if all the good were with the good, all the wicked with the wicked, all fools with fools, and all wits with wits, the world would not be so pleasing as it is: For that universal miscellany of so many different humours in it, is a great part of its beauty. I assure you replied Arpasia that if diversity of men do make the beauty of the world, I am sure its beauty is oft times a punishment unto all men of accomplishments: For there can be no greater torment than to be always with persons whom they esteem not, and yet as things are ordered, half of our lives are spent amongst the people whom we wish we never saw I must confess (replied Astidamus) that we are not always where we would be, and at this very hour, if a change were permitted to be made amongst all the barges which are upon the Lake, what hath already been said, would be found to be true. But I beseech you, (replied Cleonide,) who do you imagine would change their places? After this, Astidamus answering only to satisfy his curiosity, he went from barge to barge to see who were in them; so as visiting all the rest, they were all highly pleased, that the persons might divide themselves according to their fancies. But since Astidamus, Cleonide, and the Alfenian Ladies did best know the stories of their town, they were to appoint who was to shift into this barge, and who into that; so as changing all the order of the company in general, there was scarcely one in all the company who had not their places assigned them but only Alcianipe: Arpasia observing this, earnestly beseeched Cleonide, not to place her in her barge. for I do protest said she, I do so abhor detracting persons, that if you should bring her hither, I should rather wish myself in the bottom of the Lake, than in her company. I had rather ten millions such as she were thrown into the river Tigris, replied Meliantes) than that you should expose yourself into the lake: Truly (added she) scandalising people are worthy of the worst punishments: and of all Detractors, a woman is most odious; I could endure it with more patience from the mouth of a man than from a woman. For as there are some virtues more necessary in a woman than in a man, so there are some vices more tolerable in men than in women: For one cannot scandal, but one must lie, and one cannot lie, but one must be insolent and bold, which is a quality most unbecoming a woman: men are permitted to be bold, & therefore more allowable to scandal than women, who if they will keep within the limits of modesty ought never to act any virtue with too much boldness, and therefore I must conclude a woman slanderer, to be a monster; and that she who will wound the reputation of another, cares not for her own, but may well be suspected of all the crimes which she falsely brands upon others. I see, (said Astidamus) that we cannot all tell what to do with the poor Alcianipe, but that we must leave her in some barge by herself: It had been well, answered Arpasia, if we had left her at her own house; but the worst is, almost all the world takes more delight in hearing others slandered, than in hearing them commended.  
As Arpasia said so, she did not only see the barge where Alcianipe was coming near hers, but understood how that Lady beseeched her leave to speak a word or two with Meliantes, so that as much as she hated her for her slandering, yet since she could not be uncivil before so much company, she could not deny her: but consented so coldly, as made it apparent she was displeased.  
In the mean time Meliantes was pitifully nonplussed, yet since he could not deny speaking unto a person of her quality, and since his promise engaged him, he leaned towards ●he barge where Alcianipe was, who leaning also towards him, told him in his ear, that since he left her, she had learned some things which did oblige her to promise him the second time to discover the business within these eight days, whereof she told him she had some suspicion. Meliantes could not choose but thank her, & beseech her not to fail of her word, and he spoke so loud, that Arpasia heard, and could not choose but chide him. Assoon as Alcianipes barge was parted from hers. On the other side Astidamus who understood better than any what they said, hearing that Alcianipe had promised Meliantes, to discover a business unto him, he told Arpasia of it, little thinking that he himself was concerned in it. After this they began so unanimously to importune him to tell what it was which Alcianipe had promised to him. Whatsoever she said (replied he and smiled) it was a secret of no great importance if I should tell it in the presence of seven or eight persons at once. Then choose one amongst all the company (replied Arpasia) unto whom you may impart the business you have with such a dangerous person, and so justify yourself.  
If it be so that she keep promise with me (answered he) perhaps I shall be as desirous to tell you, as you are desirous to know it. The company is not extreamlybeholding to you, replied Cleonide, since you do not think one in it worthy to be trusted with a secret which cannot be of any great importance, since Alcianipe, is a partner in it with you. Since the barge came to land, just as Cleonide had spoken, Meliantes returned her a short answer of civility, & presented his hand to conduct her to her coach; for Astidamus being obliged to wait upon Arpasia, reason did bind him to submit, and help Cleonide, who knew not that he was her brother. But Madam, not to trouble you with trifles, let me only tell you, Meliantes grew into such favour with Arpasia, that at last she told him of her aversion to Astidamus, and complained unto him of his behaviour, towards her, yet she told me since, that she would not have done so, had she not perceived that he had discovered the thoughts of her soul, so as conceiving it better to trust him with a secret, and so oblige him, she did impart it to him. And chance did something contribute unto this confidence, for Meliantes talking a whole afternoon with her, a hundred odd discourses passed between them which they never thought on at the beginning, Yet Meliantes mentioned not the least hint which might move her to suspect he was in love with her; but he used his best Rhetoric to purchase her esteem and amity, for he did most ingeniously insinuate into all her thoughts, and pitied her in such an obliging manner, that she did not conceal the least thought of her heart from him.  
In the mean time, Phormion seeing the love of Meliantes to increase every minute, he endeavoured to bring Argelise, into his thoughts purposely to take him off from Arpasia, but all his endeavours were fruitless: For Arpasias' aversi on to Astidamus and her confidence, did so flatter his passion, that though he had no reasonable hopes, yet he thought it injurious to resist his passion. Again, the promise of Alcianipe coming into his memory, he went unto her the last of the eight days, which she prefixed, yet he could not be satisfied in what he desired to know, and yet he understood enough to augment Arpasias' hatred of Astidamus: For Alcianipe told him of an infallible certainty, that Astidamus had long since contracted his affection with a Lady of quality, and moreover, that she knew he had promised her, never to marry Arpasia, assuring him, that within the compass of four days more at furthest; she should be able to tell him, her name. You may imagine Madam, how welcome this news was unto Meliantes; yet since he knew Alcianipe to be a most horrible backbiter, he feared extremely, lest all this should not be true.  
But since one is apt to believe any thing which flatters a violent passion, he did verily believe that Astidamus was in love with some other besides Arpasia; and the rather, because he saw no reason in the earth, why he should behave himself as he did, with that most admirable Lady: So as conjuring Alcianipe most earnestly to find out the name of her with whom Astidamus held such private correspondency, she promised him to satisfy his desire.  
In the mean time, Meliantes being come from her house unto Arpasias, he understood that Astidamus, had not been there all that day, nor the night before: So that he began to accuse him of most horrible injustice, for applying himself with no more assiduity unto her.  
For my part (replied Arpasia) his presence doth so little please me, that if I were not condemned to live all my life with him, I should be very glad never to see him again. But since I must marry him, 'tis very strange he should behave himself towards me, as he doth. 'tis a great misfortune not to love one, whom one is to marry, but it is a greater to be slighted and scorned by such a one: Did Astidamus love me and I not love him again? I should think that my aversion might in time wear away, but both hating him, and being hated, what likelihood is there, I should overcome my hatred? For nothing in the world is more natural than not to love those who love not us, especially when they do not seem amiable.  
Meliantes seeing her in this mind, would needs persuade her to acquaint Gabrias with her aversion to Astidamus, and to entreat him not to oblige her to marry him, but she told him again, that since her Father made that match only to confirm the treaty with Protogenes, purposely to be revenged upon the King of Assyria, it was not probable he would break it off upon a bare aversion, having no other ground but that Astidamus does not express any affection. But Madam, (said he) being transported by his passion) if you did know that Astidamus was far in Love with another, and did promise her every day never to marry you, would you not let Gabrias know it also? Doubtless I should, replied Arpasia; but what probability is there, that Astidamus should let his Uncle send to the King of Assyria, if he did not intend to go on with the marriage? Since they send only to that Prince, rather to amuse him than to ask his leave, said Meliantes, Astidamus cares not for it; And since he can be so unjust as not to love you, but to love another, it is not strange if he be as irregular in point of Prudence, as in point of Love. But I beseech you Sir (said Arpasia to him) what moves you to speak thus? is this the secret business which Alcianipe promised you to discover? For Heavens s●ke Meliantes, I conjure you by our amity to conceal nothing from me that may be prejudicial unto Astidamus. This conjuration is so prevalent Madam, (replied he) that I cannot withstand it; and then he began ingeniously to tell her all that Alcianipe told him, and what she had further promised to tell him. Alas, alas Meliantes (said she) since Alcianipe doth not more particularise things, nor tell the name of her unto whom, she saith, Astidamus hath promised never to marry me, I cannot) put my Father out of conceit with him, and Alcianipe hath such a reputation for lying, that what she saith will never persuade Gabrias unto what I desire: Not but that I do veryly believe Astidamus is deeply in love with some, or other; who is in Alfenes, for when I first saw him, he did not behave himself as now he doth to me, and therefore I conclude; that it is the presence of this person who ere she be, that obliges him unto it: But however it be (added she) we must endeavour to know more. and therefore though I do extremely hate Alcianipe, yet I desire you to continue seeing her, and oblige her to tell you the name of this pretended Mistress unto Astidamus, for when we know it, perhaps we shall discover all the rest without Alcianipe.  
Meliantes ravished to hear Arpasia speak thus, did most willingly promise, what she desired, and waited with abundance of impatience for the day which Alcianipe appointed to tell him the name of her, whom Astidamus loved.  
Since I was very intimate with Arpasia, I was not ignorant of the confidence which she put in Meliantes, and he knew also, what thoughts she had of me: so as when we and opportunity met together, we discoursed of all that related unto this most admirable Lady: We endeavoured to guess who it could be; that Astidamus should prefer before her; but all our conjectures were so wide of the mark, that we could not ground any reasonable suspicion of the person. But at last the day which Alcianipe had assigned being come, he went to challenge her promise, but could not meet with her, yet at her going out, she left order to tell him that she was gone unto Cleonides Aunt, and that she referred it to his choice, whether he would come unto her, or stay till she returned, which would be very shortly. Though Meliantes did not fear being known by his Aunt, or his sister, with whom Alcianipe was, yet he would not go thither, but chose rather to stay till she returned, conceiving that if he made that visit, it would be longer before he could be satisfied in what he so much desired to know; so as he going into a garden which belonged unto the house of that Lady, he walked there in a longing expectation of he● return: But when he saw Alcianipe return with a blithe, and merry countenance, he doubted not but that his curiosity would receive a full satisfaction.  
Well Madam, (said he as soon as he saw her) Do you know the name of that fair one, who has so much power as to make Astidamus unjust unto the most admirable Arpasia? I know it so well Sir, replied she, that none can know any thing more certain, but my greatest wonder is, that we should no sooner discover the intrigue of the business: for the very name of Cleonide, was no sooner mentioned, but a hundred passages which I had seen did come so fresh unto my memory, that I was sure, there is a most intimate correspondency between Astidamus and her. How Madam, (said Meliantes, much amazed to hear the name of his Sister 〈…〉 s it Cleonide, with whom Astidamus holds a correspondency of gallantry? Yes, (replied she) and I no sooner heard it was she, whom he loved but I went to her, purposely to observe her countenance very exactly in talking of Astidamus, and her Aunt not being present, I had so much discourse with her, as hath fully satisfied me of the truth; for I made her blush a hundred times in talking of Arpasia, and I am sure she is not only in love, but she is jealous also: And she has not so much confidence in the promises of Astidamus, as she has fears, lest the beauty of Arpasia should make him inconstant, or at least, though he should not be unfaithful, yet his respects unto Protogenes will oblige him to obedience.  
But I beseech you Alcianipe (replied Meliantes) are you sure that it is Cleonide with whom Astidamus holds correspondency? for I have heard say, that she is a very solitary person; and I perceive she rather flies the world than courts it: 'tis true, (replied she▪) that Cleonide shuns all company; but her reason for it is, to remove all cause of jealousy from Astidamus: Moreover, it is not a new taken up affection; for he was in love with her before ere he saw Arpasia: and yet his heart was much moved with her beauty the first time he saw her; but as soon as he was out of her sight, and returned to Cleonide, this vapour of love vanished, and his first to Cleonide became more violent, and he told Cleonide when he returned, that Arpasias' beauty had charmed his eyes, but not his heart; or if she had, one favourable look from her, would have dissolved the enchantment. How is it possible replied Meliantes, you should come to know all these particular circumstances? nay I know more yet (added she) for I know that it is at the house of one of her friends, where she meets with Astidamus, and she meets him at such hours, as they cannot be interrupted, because commonly it is late. But Madam, (replied Meliantes) Cleonide passeth for a person of virtue and honour. As for virtue Sir, (replied Alcianipe) I believe she is the owner of it, and though not naturally, yet out of prudence; she knows Astidamus so well, that she perceives to be austeer is the only way to be loved long; for my part (replied Meliantes) I must give a more noble motive unto the virtue of Cleonide, and believe, that though Astidamus, were not of that humour, yet she would carry herself towards him as the doth, However it be (said Alcianipe) Cleonide cannot be accused for managing the affection of Astidamus; for as I said before, she meets him every evening at her friends house. I must confess replied Meliantes, I cannot well comprehend how this can be. You will better comprehend it Sir, (answered Alcianipe) when I have told you that her aunts garden and her friends are close together, that there is a door out of the one into the other; that her friend is a widow, and that her aunt suspecting nothing of the league between Astidamus and her Niece, permits her to walk every evening with her friend, and never thinks much, though it be late before she return. Thus Astidamus sees her when he pleaseth,: And that he may see her unseen or unknown, he goes through the house of one of his friends who lives in another street, and who hath a back door oposite to that garden door of Cleonides friend, Astidamus his servants stand waiting at the fore-door of his friend with whom people think he is so that there is almost none but his confident and her confident, who know any thing of the business. Than it must of necessity be, replied Meliantes, that one of these confidents, have betrayed their trust, since you do know it: No (said she) but it is a maid whom Cleonides friend turned out of her service, which maid is sister unto another, who serves me; it is she who knows all the passages, not only out of her own knowledge and sight, but also by another maid servant unto Cleonide, who told her all these Circumstances. And yet I assure you that Cleonide did what she could to hinder her friend from turning away her maid, lest she should tell tiles, but she would not be persuaded: And certainly (added Alcianipe,) they expose themselves to much danger, who trust their servants with their business of gallantry; for when such persons know any secret of that nature, their mistresses are their slaves: and I know Cleonide stands in strange awe of her servant, because she knows of her affection, so that it must be concluded, she loves either her honour, or Astidamus very well, since that she dares not turn her away: However, her friend, wanting her patience, and not being so much interested as she was, she discharged her maid, from whole mouth I know all this that I tell you.  
Perhaps (replied Meliantes) she added more than is true; no, no, (replied Alcianipe after her detracting manner) I know she hath not told me all: and that there is yet much more behind; yet she told me, that she is fully persuaded that Astidamus, though he do love Cleonide, and not Arpasia▪ yet he will deceive the first of these, and marry the second, because he dare not disobey Protegenes, from whom he expects all his fortunes, so as it may be thought, he will deceive both and himself too.  
After this, Meliantes seeing he could get no more out of Alcianipe, he left her, after many desires not to publish what she knew, pretending that his design was not to prejudice Astidamus, but indeed his reason was, lest the reputation of his sister should be stained. As soon as he quitted Alcianipe, he met Phormion whom he found so sad and unquiet that he was sure something troubled his mind.  
Meliantes than was in a great perplexity, for on the one side he was much joyed to see that he was able to prejudice Astidamus, but on the other side, he was very sorry to know of the League between his sister and him: A resentment of love, and a resentment of honour did so divide his soul, that he was not able to reconcile so great a difference by himself, and therefore he resolved to impart his grief unto his friend, who already knew all the secrets of his life. So that after Phormion had asked him how he did, they sat down together in a place fit for discourse, and then he told him all he knew, and afterwards told him, how not foreseeing how this Lad● whom Alcianipe said was mistress unto Astidamus, could be his sister, he had engaged himself unto Arpasia, to acquaint her with her name, as soon as Alcianipe had informed him. Unto what a strange dilemma am I driven (said he) for to prejudice Astidamus. I must tell Arpasia that he hath promised Cleonide; never to marry Arpasia: And to salve up the reputation of my sister, it is fit I should conceal the gallantry of Astidamus to her: However, to argue rationally, though honour forbids me to break off the marriage of Astidamus with Arpasia, yet doubtless I ought to acquaint her with all passages, purposely to oblige her not to marry him, and to force him to marry Cleonide. But by what right, replied Phormion, can you force him to marry Cleonide, since you have had as great a correspondency with his sister as he hath with yours? Ah Phormion (said Meliantes) there is a great difference between Astidamus and me; for he loves Cleonide, and I do only esteem Argelise, and therefore it is much more obligation for him than for me, to keep promises; than for me I say who am so deeply in love with Arpasia, that I am not able to answer the affection of Argelise, And yet to speak truly, I know, that if Astidamus was acquainted with all passages at Samosates, he had almost as good reason to complain against the correspondency which I held with his sister, as I have against him for holding correspondency with mine. I know also that it becomes me not to publish the gallantry of a person who is so nearly allied to me; but I know withal, that loving Arpasia as I do, I must consider the satisfaction of my love; and without any respects of Justice, Honour, Interest of a sister, or Argelise, I must resolve to act according to the dictates of my love; and therefore my dear Phormion I must acquaint Arpasia, with the love of Astidamus to Cleonide, and also tell her she is my sister, as the greater testimony of my affection, and the more to oblige her unto secrecy. Then I see (said Phormion) that you are resolved to acquaint her with your quality, and more than that, (replied he hastily) for I am resolved to acquaint her with my love: Truth is, I know not well whether I can or no; for I am so full of fears to offend her, and oblige her to change her way of living with me, that I cannot tell whether I have power to tell her. For my part (replied Phormion) I should think it better to stay, until her marriage with Astidamus, was quite broken off: should I follow your advice (replied Meliantes) she would think I crossed the designs of Astidamus, only as the brother of Cleonide, and not in any consideration of her interest. Were it my case as 'tis yours (replied Phormion) I would not yet mention any thing unto Arpasia; but should conceal both my being her Lover, and Cleonides brother: So that thinking you to be only her friend, she will give more credit unto your words and not thinking you to be the brother of Cleonide, she will not imagine you have any concern 〈…〉 but her own in the business. Meliantes finding the advice of Phormion to be very rational, he resolved to follow it. This being resolved upon, Meliantes went unto Arpasia, with intentions to acquaint her with the affection of Astidamus to Cleonide, yet intending to conceal what might be disadvantageous to himself, and to speak more of the affection of Astidamus to Cleonide; than hers to him. Yet he could not speak in private with her, so soon as he hoped, because he found both this unfaithful Lover, and his sister there.  
As soon as they were set down, Astidamus told Cleonide in a low voice, that he had received a Letter from a friend of his at Samosates, which let him understand, that ere long be she would know her dear brother, whom she so much desired to know. Arpasia hearing what Astidamus said, she began to speak, and adressing her words unto Cleonide, though I think (said she) that Astidamus did intent that you only Madam, should hear him, yet I beseech you, give me leave to intrude into your discourse, and ask how it comes to pass, you should have a brother whom you know not.  
Since I was not above three years of age Madam, (replied she) when I left the Province where I was born, to come and live with my aunt at Alfenes; and since I never saw my brother, but at that age, I may very well say I know him not; for certainly he is much altered since that time, and though Clidaris was very like me, yet I believe I should not know him: Yet by his letters, I should know him very well, for I have received many Letters from him, yet for all that I should not know his face if I should meet him. If he be such a man as my friend describes him, replied Astidamus you have reason to desire the sight of him; for his Letter tells me, that he is one of the most handsomest men, and best wits in the world: It tells me also, that he is very kind with one of my sisters, who dwells in that place, and speaks so highly in his commendations, that I am already his friend before I see him, You may imagine, Madam, how Meliantes was nonplussed, when he heard himself thus talked of in his own presence; yet he was afraid, lest he should render himself suspect, if he should put in ne'er a word; and therefore he asked Astidamus very confidently when Cleonides brother would come thither? I cannot tell you (replied he) for the Letter bears no date.  
For my part (replied Cleonide) I wish that none had writ so much in his commendations; for commonly high commendations raise high expectations, and the person must be highly meritorious, that can answer them. It is so very likely, that the fair Cleonide hath a most deserving man to her brother (replied Arpasia very obligingly) that I have a great dsposition already to esteem him whensoever he comes, Your expression Madam, replied she, is infinitely obliging, but to know whether I may in reason believe what is writ concerning my brother, I must ask whether he, who gives this Character of my brother, be a competent Judge of true merit? or whether he be not one of those common commenders, who use to make no difference between persons of inferior parts, and persons of extraordinary merits? No on, (replied Astidamus) he who writ the Letter gives the same Character of Clidaris, and therefore I dare answer for him, for if my friend have any fault, it is in being too niggardly in his commendations, and in his esteeming over few persons, and therefore I am most confident that Clidaris is a most excellent man, and has a million of most admirable parts, since my friend commends him: For he who writ this Letter is so curious to be pleased, that there are scarce four men in the Province where he lives, who are sufficiently accomplished for his palate, and to define him in few words, he is one of those nice and delicate men who use to anatomize the the hearts and spirits of any before he will commend them, who examines all the words and actions of those he sees, and who will see into their very thoughts before he will speak either good or bad of them. Judge then, whether I have not reason to be confident, that Clidaris, is worthy to be Cleonides brother.  
After this, Astidamus according to his custom turned the talk, of which Meliantes was very glad, and was very frolic in discourse; yet what soever he said, still he was nothing at all appliant unto Arpasia.  
Presently after, Cleonide going away, Astidamus went also, So that Meliantes remaining alone with Arpasia, he looked upon him very seriously; for reflecting upon what Astidamus had said concerning the brother of Cleonide, she imagined (considering the place where she met him, and his desires to conceal his country) that Meliantes might be he; And the rather, because the Character which was given of Cleonides Brother, did fit him. Yet not desiring to make her suspicion appear until further certainty, she roused herself out of her serious study, just as Meliantes intended to interrupt her to tell her what he had understood from, Alcianipe, and beginning to speak: Considering the state of things, I am very sorry Madam (said he unto her) that I cannot speak as well of Astidamus, as they have written unto him concerning Cleonides brother; But Madam, the fidelity I have vowed unto you, and the zeal that I have unto your service, forces me to tell you that I do know the name of her whom Astidamus hath long loved, and unto whom he hath promised never to marry you: I wish with all my heart (replied she) that he would keep his promise. But Meliantes (added she) who who is she that hath so captivated the heart of Astidamus? It is Cleonide, Madam (replied he) and I know such circumstances of his affection to her, that I must needs say he is infinitely too blame to be so engaged as he is; How (cried out Arpasia) is it Cleonide, with whom Astidamus holds intelligence? Yes Madam (answered he) it is Cleonide; and Alcianipe hath so particularised things unto me, that I cannot make the least doubt of the truth.  
Alcianipe is so scandalous (replied she) that there is no great heed to be taken unto what she saith: But since I know how to discern truth from lies (replied he) I dare assure you Madam, that Astidamus doth love Cleonide.  
After this, Arpasia was a while mute: and reflecting upon her former suspicions, they all vanished, and she thought no more that Meliantes was Brother unto Cleonide, since he told her of the intelligence which she had with Astidamus. Afterwards calling to memory a hundred passages which formerly she took no notice of, she found, that indeed there was good cause to think that Astidamus loved Cleonide: But maugre her aversion to him, she could not choose but bear him a kind of spite for loving that fair one: Yet her slight resentment of it quickly vanished, and in a moment after she was extremely joyed, in hopes that this love of Astidamus would break off her Marriage: and she gave so many testimonies of it unto Meliantes, that he was fully satisfied. Yet notwithstanding, since she was resolved to stay until Astidamus did himself break off, because she was afraid to anger her Father, Meliantes was forced to tell her that though Astidamus did dearly love Cleonide, and had promised her to break off his Marriage for her sake; yet because all his fortunes did depend upon Protogenes: and because he was afraid to lose them by losing his favour, he was resolved to marry her, and to deceive Cleonide. How (said Arpasia then) does Astidamus intent to marry me, and not to love me? and to love Cleonide, and not marry her? Oh Meliantes, I am not able to endure this double treachery: And since I should be more miserable in marrying a man, who neither loves me, nor I him, than Cleonide would be, in not marrying a man who both loves her, and she him. it is my office to prevent such a misfortune: For truly, though I had no aversion to him, yet his very infidelity to Cleonide is enough to hinder me from marrying him: therefore I beseech you Meliantes, help me out of this extreme strait, and endeavour to get such convincing proofs of the promises which this Impostor hath made unto Cleonide, that I may show them unto my Father, and afterwards declare unto him, that I never will marry Astidamus.  
Meliantes hearing what Arpasia said, began to study upon it, and to imagine how he might give her satisfaction: After which, he desired some days of consideration, conjuring her in the interim not to speak a syllable of what he had told her for fear (said he) that if Protogenes should hear of Astidamus his love, he should hasten his Marriage with her.  
Thus Meliantes glozing the reputation of his sister with a plausible pretence, he bestowed a thousand obliging and tender expressions upon Arpasia; who conceiving herself infinitely beholding unto him, began to press him a little more earnestly to tell him who he was. I beseech you Meliantes (said she) what justice is it, that you should know all the secrets of my very soul, and that I should not know so much of the Country which gave you a birth? When Madam I have done you any considerable service (replied he) I promise you to tell you who I am: And to set a more certain limit of time unto your satisfaction, I promise to tell you whatsoever you shall desire to know of me, upon the day that your Marriage with Astidamus shall be broken off. But in the interim Madam (added he being transported by the violence of his passion) I beseech you honour me so far as to believe, that my birth is such, as that I am not altogether unworthy to be ranked in the number of your friends: And if Astidamus had such thoughts in his heart as I have, he had never loved Cleonide. Though this expression was a kind of declaration of Love, yet Arpasia did not take it in that sense, but believed that he said so only to express his esteem, so that she answered him very civility: At first, he was angry she did not understand him; but in a moment after, he was glad of it: So that after several obliging expressions on both sides, they parted. But Madam, whilst these things passed thus, Protogenes having observed, that Astidamus did not behave himself towards Arpasia as he ought, he spoke very sharply unto him, and charged him to carry himself better, & to prepare himself to marry her very shortly: For (said he) whether the King of Assyria consent or not consent, you shall marry her. Astidamus who had spirit enough, and was really resolved to betray Cleonide, and marry Arpasia, told Protogenes very confidently, that he did not think he was obliged to live with one whom he was to marry in that way of Gallantry, as if he Courted one whom he knew not whether he should marry her or not: but be assured Sir (said he) that I shall obey you when you please. But Madam, be pleased to know, that a Servant unto Protogenes who was acquainted with Alcianipe, having heard this Conference, he told it unto her, and she made it known unto Meliantes, who was extremely perplexed at it. Was ever misery equal unto mine? (said he unto Phormion, who since told it unto me) For all other Lovers are commonly miserable, either because they are hated, or because they have Rivals loved: And yet most certain it is, Arpasia doth esteem me, I have no Rival: and he who pretends to marry her without a dram of Love, is hated: And yet for all this, I am the most miserable of men, since I am like to see the man whom I do hate, enjoy the person whom I do love, and to betray and forsake my Sister: So that by this means he will blast both my love & my honour, if I do not give a check unto his designs: and yet it is not an easy matter to effect: For Astidamus will obey Protogenes; Protegenes will have him to marry Arpasia: And Gabrias desires it as much as he, unless I do let him see the treachery of Astidamus towards Cleonide, and Arpasia.  
But shall I myself publish the intelligence which he holds with my Sister before I am sure I can oblige him to marry her? And can I have the confidence to quarrel with him for casting off my Sister, when as I did the like to his? Truth is, I am not so inconstant as he is, because I loved her less; but this excuse is not sufficient to excuse me. What shall I do my dear Phormion (said he unto him) Truly (replied his friend) I am as much to seek for advice as yourself: But the best Council I can give, is, to overcome your passion, as Astidamus hath his. For he is in Love with Cleonide, yet is resolved to marry another: Therefore I pray Sir, call Argelyse into your memory and heart, and quit Arpasia, as he hath Cleonide. As for the interest of Cleonide, unless you knew how to force Astidamus to marry her, it were better to smother all reports of her intelligence with him, than to divulge it. But that cannot be, replied Meliantes, since I had never known of it but by Alcianipe, who never knows any thing that may wound another's reputation, but she tells it to a hundred several persons; and I am told, that if she do know of any such business, if company come not in quickly unto whom she may impart it, she will go out and seek them. Also I am credibly informed, that if she be sick, nothing will sooner cure her, nor make her quit her Bed, than to have some such tittle-tattle or other to carry unto some whom she thinks it will please or spite; for she transacts by several motives, though all equally ill: and can you think she will not tell all men the same she hath told me? Yes yes, Phormion, Alcianipe is silent in nothing but in Commendations: Nay perhaps she will draw out an innocent correspondency to become a great Crime: And to be sincere with you, though Astidamus did not betray my sister, yet should I hate him no less than I do, it is enough that he is likely to marry Arpasia, to make me ruin him if I can. But Sir (said Phormion) Arpasia does not so much as know that you do love her. She knows that I do visit her, and that I admire her (replied he) and I hope that ere long she will know that I love her, though I never tell her, for my passion is too violent to be smothered: and she cannot choose but see it. All I have to do, is to poison Astidamus, in the opinion of Arpasias' father by acquainting him with his love of Cleonide, and by producing such circumstances as shall make Astidamus appear what he is, to wit, an impostor, and perfidious; I perceive by your looks (added he) that you think it strange I should give such terrible names unto Astidamus, having an opinion that I do merit them as well as he: But Phormion be not deceived, for if there be any equality in our crims it is not in our proceedings, when I thought myself in love with Argelise, it was because I knew not then what Love was, but now I know, that it was only esteem and friendship, which I professed unto her, and if I did quit her, it was, because a most violent passion forced me unto it, and she is beholding unto me for doing all I could to keep my heart from her, but the case is not the same with Astidamus, for he is deeply in love with Cleonide, and maugre this love he quits her for his interest of fortune.  
Moreover, he is so unjust, not only to forsake her, but to betray her by dissembling his inconstancy, lest she should hinder him in his design of marrying Arpasia but 'tis far otherwise with me, for if Argelise were here, I should resent her misfortunes as my own, Ah Meliantes (said Phormion and interrupted him) you say so, because Argelise is not at Alfenes: for I assure you, it is a greater difficulty than you imagine; for any brave man to tell a woman whom once he seemed to love that now he does not love her; and if she were here at this present, you would be driven into an extreme perplexity. No doubt of it (replied he,) but that I should be extremely ashamed at the sight of her, yet for all that, rather than betray her as Astidamus doth my sister, I would discover my weakness unto her, I would confess my fault, & ask a pardon for it: But since I perceive you will not give me any advise. I will follow the dictates of my own thoughts. So Meliantes after he had studied a while, went out, and went to give Cleonide a visit with whom he had often been, as well as with all other Ladies of quality, in Alfenes. Yet he could not speak with her so soon as he desired, because much company was with her aunt and her, but they being gone all, except one man who stayed about some business with the Lady of the house, he had all the liberty of talk, he could wish, and as soon as he was alone with Cleonide, he took out one of those Letters which heretofore she had writ unto him, and asked her if she knew the hand: Cleonide took it and began to read it, little thinking it to be of her own writing, but when she read a line, she knew it to be one which she sent unto her brother, at first, she looked seriously upon him, but he had an air so unresemblant, unto all his family, that not knowing why her brother should conceal himself, she did not think herself to be his sister, but imagined him to be only some friend unto her brother, I beseech you Sir, said she unto him, do you know him unto whom this Letter was written? if you do, pray tell me where he is, and why he gave it unto you? I shall satisfy you in all your demands (replied Meliantes) yes, and more, provided you will promise me not to speak a syllable of any thing I shall tell you, no not unto Astidamus, (added he, and looked earnestly upon her) At these words Cleonide blushed, and doing something about her head, purposely to hide her blushes, I do not wonder (said she unto him) that you should desire me to tell no body what you say, but I have reason to be offended at you, for particularising Astidamus, and that you should speak of him, as if I could know nothing, but I must impart it unto him. All I can do at present for your satisfaction (replied Meliantes) is to assure you, that when I have told you all I have to say, you will so clearly see, that I have no intentions to offend you that you will repent your suspicion of it. But unjust Cleonide, (pursued he) the business is of such a nature, that you must be sure none come to interrupt us; and oblige you unto a private conference, I swear unto you by all that is sacred, that you will be the most miserable person of all your quality and sex, if you do not hearken unto me, and positively believe all that I shall say, when you have heard me.  
You express yourself so very strangely, replied she, that though you should tell me nothing but sad stories, yet I must confess my curiosity such, that I cannot choose but hear you, and therefore if you please, we will walk into the garden, where we shall not be interrupted, for I will appoint if any come in, they shall be carried into my aunts chamber, with all my heart (replied Meliantes,) but first you must promise me not to speak a word unto Astidamus, of any thing I shall tell you; and indeed you must promise me most solemnly and seriously. If I do promise you to tell no body (answered Cleonide and still blushed) I do tacitly imply, that I will not tell Astidamus, and therefore why do you insist so peremptorily upon such a frivolous ceremony, which in my opinion is an affront put upon me: Nay, nay, never insist upon such niceties, (replied he) nor ruin yourself upon imaginary punctilios. Cleonide hearing Meliantes so plain, she began to be angry in good earnest, and would not give him audience; but since the same thing which angered her, did also swell her with curiosity, she surmounted her resentments and told Meliantes, that there was never any such League between Astidamus and her, she would promise him never to reveal what he should tell her.  
After this, Meliantes took her by the hand, and carried her unto a seat in an Arbour; when they were set, Cleonide first began; well Meliantes (said she) I pray tell me who gave you that Letter which you showed me? before I give you direct answer (replied he) I must most seriously protest unto you, that all I shall say unto you is as certainly true, as that you are my sister, is not more sure, nor more certain, that Astidamus intends to betray you; at these words Cleonide stood in amaze, her colour went and came a hundred times: First she looked upon Meliantes, than looked off him with abundance of shame. Sometimes she wished all he said were true, and sometimes desired all might be false; being vexed to the soul she should begin acquaintance with her brother, by such a shameful adventure. But at last, to clear her doubts, the names of Meliantes and Clidaris, are so unlike (replied she) that I could not take the one for the other, since names are not essentially fixed to the bearers, said he, but that they may shift them as they please, your reason is not at all convincing, but to come near the substance of the business, I will engage myself to show you all the Letters which ever you writ unto me, and more than that, I will tell you the substance of all that ever I writ unto you, and to clear myself more manifestly unto you, I will write in your presence what you shall please, that you may compare my writing with those Letters which Clidaris writ unto you, and so plainly see, that Meliantes and Clidaris are the same without more delay he pulled out of his pocket, both Pen, Ink, and Paper, and began to write some lines which he gave unto Cleonide, but she was more amazed than ever, when she found written, that if she would follow his counsel, she should never marry Astidamus: she saw enough by the hand, to assure her, he was her brother. But before she could recover out of h●● wonder, Meliantes told her so many particulars concerning her family, as put her out of all doubt, but to clear the matter more fully, she asked him how it could come to pass, the friend of Astidamus should write word that he had seen you at Samosates? Then Meliantes began to relate unto her, his travels into that place, and how it was his fortune to meet Gabrias and Arpasia. I beseech you (said Cleonide then) why did you change your name? and why would you not make yourself known to me at first? your questions (dear sister) replied he, are of such importance, that I must not answer them until that after you have ingeniously confessed unto me, that Astidamus, is in love with you, that he hath promised you never to marry Arpasia, & that you do believe him: Alas, brother (said she and blushed,) I am not able to confess such things of that nature: that you may no longer dissemble the matter (replied Meliantes) know, that I am not ignorant in any thing that hath passed betwixt you; and to instance in some, I do know, that you use to meet Astidamus in a garden of your friends, which joins unto this, in which we are, especially since Arpasia came hither, & that it was there he swore a thousand false other unto you: and indeed I know of a most infallible certainty, that if you do not follow my counsels, he will marry Arpasia.  
Moreover, to induce you unto an absolute confidence in me, I will trust you with the only secret of my soul and life, and acquaint you, that I am as much concerned in this marriage as you are, for to tell you truly, I am in love with Arpasia in love so deeply, that if the life of Astidamus be dear unto you, you must help me to make him faithful unto you, and do as I shall direct you to hinder him from marrying her whom I do love and adore: for I do profess unto you, that if you do not, you will endanger either to see your brother kill your Lover, or your Lover kill your brother, think seriously upon what I say, and be confident that you have as great an interest as I have in the advice which I shall give you. You fill me so full of wonder, (replied Cleonide) that I know not what answer to return. The business is of such a near concernment (replied he) that you must answer, and that you may more sincerely open yourself, I desire you to consider, that I do not offer to reprove you for your affection to Astidamus, for I have a strong confidence in your virtue, and I know experimentally, that love is not a thing voluntary, and I were unjust if I should expect more force from you than I have myself; but excusing your imbecilities, as I expect you should do mine, you must sincerely acquaint me with all the passages betwixt Astidamus and you, to the end I may force him to fidelity, and keep him from making me miserable; if you do not, I vow unto the Gods, that before you can see Astidamus, to tell him what I have said unto you, I will see him, and tell him such a story, as may become fatal to one of us: And therefore my dearest sister, I do conjure you by your own honour, & by the affection you have unto Astidamus to prevent both your own and my misery, and not to deny a thing, which I do know as certainly as you do yourself. You press me in so strange a manner, (replied Cleonide) that I have not power either to deny or confess what you ask; yet you must do the last of these (replied Meliantes) if you will preserve your own Honour, and your Lover, and not hinder the happiness of a Brother, who will be a debtor unto you for all his felicity, if you will but think upon your own.  
After this, adding a thousand tender and obliging conjurations, unto what he had said before, Cleonide confessed that Astidamus had long loved her, and still told her every day, that he continued the same, and after the first Ice was broken, she told Meliantes as much as he desired to know. But as a justification of herself she aggravated the Courtship and cares, which Astidamus had taken to win her heart, and told her brother, that he had writ Letters unto her, every day: Meliantes pressed her to see his Letters, and so importunately, that she fearing if she should deny him, he would think them of another nature than they were, and knowing that they would rather justify than accuse her, she pulled two of them out of her pocket, the one received last night, the other in the morning, and gave them unto Meliantes, who opening them, did find in them as much as he could desire; and if my memory do not much fail me, they were to this effect following.  
To the Incredulous CLEONIDE.  
Madam,  
WILL you not believe me, when I promise and protest, that I do not love Arpasia, and that I love none but you? but it seems you are resolved to be as unjust as you are rigorous, in doubting the sincerity of my words. I beseech you, be not deluded by fallacious appearances; but be confidently persuaded, that I will never marry Arpasia and that I will eternally love the fair Cleonide.  
ASTIDAMUS.  
You may imagine Madam, that Meliantes was not a little glad he had got this Letter into his hands; and in hopes to find another, as pertinent to his purpose, he opened it in all haste and found these words.  
To the unjust CLEONIDE.  
Madam,  
I Wonder why you should not, but I am sure you may believe me when I protest, that Protogenes with all his power over me, shall not be able to make me perfidious, unto my dear Cleonide: Believe it, that either by the King of Assyria's means or my Mothers, who will be shortly here, and I will break off my marriage with Arpasia, and if you be as constant as I am faithful, we will love one another for ever.  
ASTIDAMUS.  
Though this second Letter was as fit as the first, to be laid in the dish of Astidamus, yet it did not please Meliantes so well as the first, because it mentioned the arrival of his Rivals mother, and because he made no question but Argelise would come with her. So that this news brings spurs to hasten on his design of preventing Astidamus, he was resolved not to restore these two Letters unto his Sister, but to keep them, and show them unto Arpasia, that she might show them unto Gabrias, and so break off the marriage: Not but that he knew all that Astidamus said in his Letters was false, and he mentioned the coming of his Mother to his marriage, the better to delude her.  
But after a tumultuous reflection upon all these things, in stead of restoring the Letters to his Sister, he put them in his pocket, and told her, that upon them depended both his good fortune, and hers. At first Cleonide opposed his design; no no sister (said Meliantes) I will not restore them, for they are so necessary to preserve Astidamus for you, and yet Arpasia for me, that I should do both you, and myself very ill service if I should part with them. For as I told you before, Astidamus intends to deceive you, and he positively promised Protogenes, yesterday to marry Arpasia whensoever he pleased, and he carries fair with you, lest you should obstruct his marriage with her. After this, Meliantes, making a more exact relation of all passages unto her, he told her to bring her to his mind, that there was no course to be taken but one of these two, either he must fight with Astidamus, or else break off his marriage with Arpasia by making use of these Letters.  
Cleonide liking the last of these ways better than the first, she consented he should have the letters, after his promise that he would show them unto none but Gabrias and Arpasia, and it was her wisest course to consent, for she knew not how to hinder him. However, he made her promise him, not to discover unto her Lover who he was, until his marriage with Arpasia, was broken off. And he did so plainly demonstrate unto her, that she would ruin herself and honour, if she did not prove faithful unto him, and likewise that she would put the life of Astidamus in danger, that he did not fear, but she would keep promise with him; so that parting upon mutual promises of fidelity, Cleonide stayed in the garden contemplating upon the adventure.  
And Meliantes went unto Arpasia, with intention to show her the Letters of Astidamus; and indeed, as soon as they could talk in private together, she gave him an opportunity of showing them unto her, and asked him, what news from Alcianipe? he having no mind to let her know, that Cleonide was his sister, lest she should think he had some ends in persecuting Astidamus, he let her go on in her opinion, that he knew all from this woman, so that he gave her the Letters to read, the hand she knew; but Madam, Arpasia read them with different thoughts, for they made her both glad and angry: And her aversion to Astidamus, did so increase, that Meliantes had been very happy if she had loved him, as much as she hated Astidamus. I protest Meliantes, (said she unto him) the infidelity of Astidamus unto Cleonide makes me hate him more than his insensibility unto me doth, and I should sooner pardon him for slighting me, than for betraying her. For my particular (replied Meliantes) I am not of your mind, for I think the greatest crime of Astidamus, is his not loving you, and next to it, his infidelity unto Cleonide; but to see you and not to love you is a crime incredible: Could it ever be imagined that a lover of Cleonide, would be the husband of Arpasia? or could it enter into the heart of a man to marry Arpasia, and not love her? these are so far above my belief, that had not Astidamus given his insensibility under his own hand in those two letters, I could not have given any credit unto it.  
I think it less strange (replied she) that he should be insensible towards me, than that he should be unfaithful unto Cleonide. But I beseech you Madam (said Meliantes) what course do you intent to take? I intent to show these Letters unto my father, (replied she) and to tell him, that I will never marry Astidamus, and to open my heart unto you, as unto a man whom I dare trust, above any one in the world, I will assure you, that if he will force me to marry him, I shall not obey him, but I shall hope that since he is sensible of honour, he will have better thoughts. Doubtless, he knows that I do not love Astidamus, but I believe he does not know my reason for it, he thinks it is only an aversion in nature, which time and reason might surmount; but I am confident, when he shall see these Letters, he will be of another mind.  
Perhaps madam, (said Meliantes) reasons of state will be his greatest consideration, No, said she, I hope to persuade him by these Letters, that Astidamus does not intend to marry me; and to put an open affront upon him, though Protogenes should press him to it: And I hope to persuade him to anticipate Astidamus, and break off with him, before he break off with ns; in conclusion, Meliantes, I hope to transact the matter so, that it shall not be long of me, if the fair Cleonide do not marry Astidamus, and if I do not quit Alfenes, never to come into it again, the truth is (added she most obligingly) I shall depart with much sorrow, since I shall thereby lose you. Since I stay at Alfenes, only for the love of you, Madam, (replied Meliantes) I shall depart when you do, and if Fortune do not thwart my intentions, I think Madam, that I shall go whether you go; for you have so great a power over me; that I am not able to live far from you. If I have so much power over you (replied she) as you would make be believe I have, then tell me who you are, and acquaint me with the secrets of your heart, as I have you, with mine. I would the Gods, Madam, (said he) and looked fixedly upon her) that you could guests them without my telling you: For the truth is, there is nothing in my soul which I would not have you know, yet I cannot without much pain tell you all the thoughts of my heart.  
For Madam, I dare not discover all my imbecilities, I dare not tell you how I Love a most divine person without all hopes, I dare not for my life aggravate all the miseries which this passion hath caused me to endure, especially unto you Madam, whose actions are all guided by solidity of reason, not but that the person whom I adore, hath so many excellencies, as will well excuse all my imbecilities, For she is beauty in the very abstract, her wit transcends all capacities, she hath virtue & goodness in the superlative degree, & she doth a little esteem me, but for all this Madam, I dare not be so bold as to tell you of my passion. The worst is (replied Arpasia not suspecting his love to her) I have heard you say, that one cannot be in love, but one must be miserable also, and therefore for my own interest, I must needs grieve for you, since it is not likely we shall be long together in one place. However added she, not giving him time to answer her) since the person whom you adore, hath so much Beauty, Wit, Virtue, Goodness, and Esteem of you, I cannot see you are much to be pitied: I should not indeed be very unhappy (replied he) if she did know without being offended, that I did love her, but since I never told her, I am in continual fears, lest she should discover my passion; and yet at the same time I am grieved that she doth not divine it, and yet she must divine it, if she do know it (added he) for I never dare tell her that I do love her.  
Meliantes spoke this with such a passionate air, as made Arpasia blush, and was constrained to applyit unto herself, and since she could not have any such thoughts without some appearance of it in her countenance, Meliantes saw that he was understood, so as fearing to say too much, and thinking he had said enough to make her suspect what he would have her know, he turned the discourse and began again to talk of Astidamus, Cleonide, and Gabrias, and so freed both her, and himself from a nonplus: And this caused her not to be offended at this half dec laration of his Love:  
However, she was no sooner retired, But she did me the honour to impart all the passage unto me, and to tell me her opinion: which done, I told her that I had observed a hundred passages from Meliantes, which moved me to believe as she did, for truly (said I unto her) he hates Astidamus, only because he loves you, and he hates him in such a manner, as persuades me that his condition is worthy to be his rival. As for his quality (replied Arpasia) I doubt much less of it, than of his love. For all the thoughts of his soul are so noble, and there is something so high in all his proceedings, that I am most confident his quality is great; but for all that Niside (said she unto me) I must look upon him only as a friend which fortune gave me, and which she will quickly take from me, and I ought to be well satisfied, if fate will only keep me from marrying Astidamus.  
After this, Arpasia changing discourse, we talked of nothing, but what she should say the next morning unto Gabrias: And indeed, as soon as she awaked, and had dressed herself, she went unto her father, unto whom she addressed herself with so much Prudence and Respect, that after he had read the Letters, and knowing the hand, he seemed to consent, that she should not marry him, who writ them, yet he told her, that to break off with a specious pretence, it was expedient to stay until the messenger which Protogenes and he had sent unto Babylon, was returned, because in all probability the King of Assyria would not approve of this marriage, and would give a pretence both unto Protogenes and him, not to proceed unto a conclusion of marriage; though they were once resolved upon it, whether the King did consent unto it or no. Daughter (said he unto her) I am confident that as soon as Protogenes shall see these two Letters, he will confess you have reason to be against your marriage with Astidamus, and if our other interests will not unite us without this alliance; I shall break off with him when it is convenient time.  
In the mean time, it is policy to dissemble as he doth, until the time be ripe, and fit to testify our resentments: For the truth is, Protogenes is master of Alfenes, and if I should go imprudently to work, he might make his peace with the King of Assiria when he pleased, by delivering me up unto him.  
This speech of Gabrias unto Arpasia, seeming reasonable, she thanked him for it, and expressed herself in the most tender and obliging Language she could devise, to confirm him in his opinion. So that not daring to press him unto a restitution of the Letters, because he said, that he would show them unto Protogenes, when it was fit time, she left them in his hands and went unto her Chamber with much satisfaction: and yet she had no great cause; for be pleased to know Madam, that Gabrias spoke so unto her, only to amuse her, and keep her from divulging her resentment, of ill treating Astidamus, For Gabrias having a full design to be revenged upon the● King of Assiria, his mind and considerations ran only upon that, and not the satisfaction of Arpasia, so that intending to accomplish this marriage, he sent to Meliantes, and desired him to come and speak with him; who coming in all haste, he found him in his closet, holding the two Letters in his hand.  
To testify unto you (said Gabrias unto him) how I esteem your Wisdom and friendship, I will trust you with the greatest secret of my family, and try if it be possible to make you side with that party which I am raising against the King of Assiria.  
After this, Gabrias aggravated all his causes of complaint which he had against that Prince, then told him of the Treaty which he had with Protogenes, acquainted him, that the marriage of Arpasia was concluded upon, only for that reason, and told him all that Arpasia had told him before, and all her answers; But you Meliantes (said he unto him) being a man of understanding, I know will easily conceive that I answered my daughter as I did, only to gain time, for it were a gross absurdity, to break off with Protogenes, because Astidamus loves Cleonide, and is not in love with my daughter: For the marriages of persons of her quality are to be made upon solid grounds, never insisting upon such trifles as conduce nothing to the establishment of families, And though Astidamus do love Cleonide, and not Arpasia, no matter, for his mind may change; and though it do not, it is but according to that order, which Nature and Custom hath established; for very few husbands are Lovers of their wives. And therefore since Astidamus hath courage and spirit enough and can serve to execute, my revenge, Arpasia must resolve to marry him yet since I desire that Astidamus would apply himself unto her rather by fair means th●n by my absolute authority, I have made choice of you to persuade Astidamus unto a little more compliance with her, and that he may see how he is obliged unto me, for my discretion in the knowledge that I have of his Love unto Cleonide, show him these two Letters which I put into your hands. In saying so, Gabrias gave Meliantes the Letters, who seeming to read them, as if he had never seen them before, afterwards told Gabrias, that since Astidamus, had promised Cleonide, never to marry Arpasia, he could not believe it was in his power to persuade him to live better with her: Nay nay, never think so, said Gabrias, though Astidamus promised Cleonide never to marry Arpasia, yet he promised Protogenes to marry her when ere he pleased. And indeed, to discover the secret of the business unto you, I must tell you, that the man who was sent unto the King of Assiria is already returned, although it be not published, because a supposed answer of that Prince must be contrived, as if he had consented unto the marriage, although he did not; and I must tell you also, that as soon as the mother and sister of Astidamus are arrived, the marriage is to be celebrated. Therefore in this Interim which won't be long, I would have you tell Astidamus, that I am acquainted with his being in love with Cleonide, and that my daughter knows of it also: For since I do know of an infallible certainty, that although he do love Cleonide, yet he will marry Arpasia, I am persuaded that to avoid her persecution after marriage, he will strive with himself and break with Cleonide sooner than he would, if he thought that this gallantry was not known, either to me or my daughter; tell him that I will carefully conceal it from Protogenes, provided he will apply himself to appease Arpasia, and tell him on the other side, that if he will not do as he ought, I will discover him both unto Protogenes, and all the world  
I leave you to imagine Madam, how Meliantes relished this employment, whether he considered himself as the Lover of Arpasia, or as the brother of Cleonide: And yet he was forced to accept of it, lest Gabrias should bestow it upon another who would stickle in the business more than he would; therefore he promised Gabrias to obey his commands, yet he would not persuade him to expose Arpasia to so much misery, as to marry Astidamus, since she had a most invincible aversion to him.  
But at last, Meliantes seeing he could prevail nothing with him, he left him, and went away with more sorrow than he was able to undergo: Understanding that much company was with Arpasia, he was in no fit tune to enter; but he went unto Cleonide, whom he found alone, to ask her whether she had seen Astidamus the night before, in the place where she was used to meet him? Alas brother (said she unto him) I have seen him but too often; for since you have opened my eyes I have seen his infidelity so clear in this, that I make no question of it: It was but yesterday that he promised me not to marry Arpasia, but he spoke more faintly than usual: and he did so harp upon the imperious humour of Protogenes, That I know he prepares himself for obedience: Truth is, dear Brother, Astidamus is a most perfidious man, one who hath sto●n Arpasia from you, and will take his heart from me, unless you find some means to prevent your misfortune and mine: He told me yesterday (added she) that his Mother and his Sister would perhaps arrive to morrow: but he feared extremely, that his Mother would not be able to oppose the Marriage, as he hoped and wished. How (said Meliantes) will Argelyse be at Alfenes to morrow? if so, I must have recourse unto the most extreme remedies.  
Cleonide surprised at her Brother's speeches, asked him why he said so? But Meliantes not being willing to tell her the Cause, did say that his sorrows were so great, that he knew not what he said: so that after about a quarter of an hours stay, he returned to Arpasia, to see if the company was gone: and understanding that there was none but Alcianipe, two other Ladies, and a man of good account in Alfenes, named Merosus, he thought they would depart presently, and therefore he entered, but he was deceived; for Alcianipe was in such a talkative humour that day, as he thought she would never give over. Not but that Arpasia did civilly express herself to take no pleasure in detraction: Yet since she imagined that Meliantes knew of the gallantries of Astidamus only from her, therefore she endured her with moae patience than she would, if she had not thought that it was by her means that her Marriage with Astidamus was to be broken off.  
Moreover, since the Language of Gabrias had filled her full of joy, Meliantes found her as pleasant as he was sad: and she exposed herself unto Raillary with Merosus and Alcianipe. But Meliantes spoke not a word all the while, and was so reserved, that Arpasia took notice of it, and imagined that her suspicions of his being in Love with her, were not ill grounded: so that after Alcianipe, Merosus, and all the rest of the Ladies were gone, she avoided talking in private with him, as much as she could. And to that end she called all her women one after another: but Meliantes having business of concernment to impart unto her, beseeched her to let him have an hours Audience, and that presently: For Madam (said he unto her, and sighed) I assure you it imports all the happiness of your life that you do hear me, and that immediately. Arpasia knowing that Meliantes had some cross adventure or other to tell her, she changed colour, and desired him to acquaint her what misfortune had of late happened? So then hasting to tell her all that Gabrias had told him, lest any should come in to interrupt them, he acquainted her in few words with all the Conference he had with her Father, and with so many signs of sorrow in his Countenance, as it was plainly to be seen that the interest of Arpasia did nearly concern him. How Meliantes (said she) is my Father so inhuman as to make me a sacrifice unto his Revenge? Can he find a heart to make me the most miserable woman upon Earth, only to satisfy his ambition? Would he marry me unto a man who can betray the best of women? Can Astidamus quit Cleonide whom he loves to obey Protogenes? and must I marry Astidamus who loves me not, to obey a Father? and yet Religion bids me not disobey him, although all my Prayers and my tears cannot move him.  
How's this Madam (replied Meliantes hastily) can you ever find a heart to marry Astidamus? Questionless I shall sooner find a heart to die (replied she) and yet I think I shall resolve upon it, rather than incur the shame of disobeying such a Father as Gabrias: and yet all remedies must first be tried: and I cannot tell whether it would be expedient to acquaint Cleonide with the infidelity of her Lover, to the end, that she using her endeavours to prevent being betrayed, she may prevent my being miserable also. Alas Madam, (replied Meliantes) that is already done, and to no purpose, why (replied Arpasia,) hath Alcianipe spoke unto Cleonide, no Madam, (answered he) but I have spoke unto her myself, and since it concerns you as well as myself, that you know who I am, be pleased to know Madam, that I am Cleonides brother. Are you Cleonides brother? (replied Arpasia with much astonishment) are you he, of whom the friend of Astidamus gave so noble a character? Yes Madam, (replied he) I am the unfortunate Clidaris. under the name of Meliantes, whom Cleonide never saw since she was two years old.  
I am very glad (replied she) that I was not mistaken, when I thought your quality suitable to your merit? also it joys me that being Cleonides brother, it concerns you almost as much as me, that I do not marry Astidamus: When you shall know me, well Madam, replied he, perhaps you shall see, that it concerns me more than you; and that though Cleonide were not my sister, yet my concernment would be the same, For truly Madam, not to disguise myself and my soul any longer, I must tell you that I became your captive in speaking of the conquests of Sesostris, the very first day, that I had the honour to see you.  
Yes Madam, the very first minute of your sight, was the first minute of my passion; and I have ever since loved you in such a respective manner, that you need not be offended if I assume so much boldness to tell you of it, in such a time when I would not have you attribute all I shall do against Astidamus, unto the Interest of my sister.  
I am in such a miserable condition already (replied Arpasia) that you should not speak thus unto me, and deprive me of the consolation which I had in opening my heart unto you Why Madam (said he) will you shut up your heart from me, because I give you my own? and will you not be still my friend, because I love you Truly Madam, if so, I must needs say, you are both unjust and Rigorous: For Madam, my affection unto you is not incompatible with your virtue; since I ask nothing of you at present, but only that you will give me leave to love you, and that I may oppose myself against the designs of Astidamus, I have such a pretence as that you need not be seen to have any share in it; and if I be not the most mistaken man in the world, I will prevent your marrying him, without putting you to the necessity of disobeying Gabrias, though all this be very advantageous to me, (replied she) yet though you have offended me, I would not have you take any course that may prove fatal unto either of you, and I had rather be the wife of Astidamus, than be the cause of any one's death, I would not hazard the life of Astidamus, much more yours.  
Moreover, (added she) to testify unto you, that my esteem and amity is very great, since it can subsist after a declaration of love, I will pardon your boldness upon condition that hereafter you will not speak unto me, but under the notion of a friend, and as Meliantes.  
Yet Madam, I beseech you (replied he) Let Clidaris hope that he shall have a favourable acception from you, whensoever things are in such a condition, that he may let Gabrias know what thoughts he hath of you. I will permit him to hope, (replied she) that if he can oblige my father to be as favourable to him, as he is unto Astidamus, that then, I say, I will not be so averse to him, as I am unto that perfidious Lover: And more than this Meliantes do not move me unto, unless you desire I should break quite off with you; though all this be almost nothing (replied he) yet I shall be satisfied with your goodness, provided you will give me leave to tell you that I do love you with a more fervency than ever any did; that never Lover suffered more than ever I have, nor was ever any love more violent, and more solid both, than mine to you.  
For believe it Madam, I love you with a certainty never to leave off loving you, and I love you without the contribution of any hopes, and without any complacency from you to increase it, since you did not so much as suspect that I was in Love with you.  
And the love that flames in my soul having its fuel rather from the stars, than from reason, so that nothing can quench it, but must not be extinguished, except in my grave, I beseech you therefore admit of it; and let all I shall do against Astidamus, have a favourable reception from you. As Meliantes was saying this, Astidamus with three others entered into Arpasias' chamber, so as silence being forced upon both, the talk must of necessity change; and Astidamus being that day in a pleasant humour, and moreover, having a design to marry Arpasia, he resolved to change his way of behaviour towards her, and to win upon her mind, he applied him unto her, and every one with all imaginable agreeableness; but as I remember, I told you before how he passed from one subject unto another, without arguing any thing to the bottom, so I may now very well say, that within the compass of one hour he talked of a hundred several subjects: For he had up, not only all the news at Babylon, but also all the passages at Alfenes, he talked of every thing he did that day he related what was spoken, in all the places where he had been▪ and he asked Arpasia what she had been doing, then did he chide Meliantes for his silence: afterwards he talked of music and of painting, and brought in so many several things, that one of the company taking notice of this great variety, did hint it into others by way of commending Astidamus, for (said he) there is nothing in the world more tedious, then begin in company with such people as dwell upon the first subject they begin to speak upon, and do so rip up the very bottom of a business, that for a whole afternoon together, they will never change discourse, for since talk should be free and natural; and every one in the company to have an equal Liberty of changing as they think good, it is a gross absurdity to stop the mouths of any one, or to interrupt them.  
For my part, said Meliantes very faintly) I do not understand your rule to be general, for I do know some persons who can make much better diversion in talking upon one subject, than in relating all the novelties of the World. If you speak of Love unto any person (replied Astidamus) I think you have good reason not to change discourse; and yet unless you paint your passion with variety of colours, you will but tire the person and yourself too: Those who know how to love (replied Meliantes) are not so soon weary, as others who know not; And Love hath this peculiarity unto itself, as it doth so sweetly take up the minds of those it doth possess, that silence often is a diversion; and two persons in Love, provided they may be together, will sit, and gaze, and never be weary, though they speak not a word unto each other.  
However it be, (said Astidamus) I love variety in all things, variety of flowers in a meadow does very well (said Arpasia, in a languishing tone) but I do not love it in other things; and whether it be out of slowness or barrenness of wit, I know not, I use to talk long upon a subject which pleaseth me.  
After this, Meliantes driving the business a little further, he moved Astidamus to answer him somewhat tartly, so as if Arpasia had not carried herself very discreetly, they had quarrelled in her presence, and yet they parted very civilly, and every one went home with different thoughts. Arpasia for her part was much disquieted, for since she had concluded nothing with Meliantes, she was afraid lest he should take some violent course; and the more, because she knew he had no other way to break off her marriage; and because she saw most perfectly that he was in love with her, so that calling me into her closet, she acquainted me with the cause of all her sorrows, she told me what Gabrias said unto Meliantes; and all that Meliantes had said unto her, both of his birth and passion, and afterwards she did aggravate her misfortunes with so many sighs, tears, and significative expressions, that she inspired me with all her sorrows, yet Madam, (said I unto her to comfort her) you have this advantage, that Meliantes is both Cleonides brother, and your Lover: Doubtless it is (replied she) to prevent Astidamus from marrying me; but Niside, it is an advantage which much disquiets me, for I esteem Meliantes more than to wish h●s ruin in my safety, and I esteem him more than to desire that his esteem should be seconded by a greater obligation. Since Meliantes is of so good a quality, (replied I) you need not fear being obliged unto him: and if by breaking off your marriage with Astidamus, he should come to marry you I see no reason you have to complain against your fortune. Not so hasty, good Niside, (said she unto me) let us entertain no such ill grounded hopes, Meliantes doubtless hath as many charms both of soul and body, as any man in the world; yet for all that, though I conceive well enough of him as a friend, yet I know him not well enough to wish he were my husband; though I know very well he loves me, and though I have a very particular esteem of him, and since I know myself to be most unfortunate, I dare not wish it, lest I should wish something to my own dis-advantage.  
Whilst Arpasia was thus reasoning upon the matter, the soul of Meliantes was restlessly unsatisfied, for knowing that Astidamus was resolved to marry Arpasia, that Gabrias would force his daughter to obey him, and that she, ma●gre her repugnancy, had a disposition unto it, he saw that there was no remedies against his miseries, but such as were most violent.  
Moreover, knowing of a certainty that Argelise would come, he foresaw, misery upon misery, and knew nor how to untwist this ravelled clew of fortune: So that after he had passed over a whole night without sleep, and without imparting his inquietudes unto Phormion because he thought him too wise to give such violent counsel, as that which he gave himself, he got up in all haste, and without any with him but a page, he went to the place where he knew Astidamus used to walk in the mornings, who lodging on that side of the town towards the Lake, he went every morning to take the fresh air, at such an hour, when men of his age have least to do, because it was no time for visits, nor a time when the Ladies go into the Temple.  
But Meliantes being there very early, Astidamus was not yet come; so as he had time enough to examine what he had to do; but the more he examined the present condition of his soul, the less alteration he found in his resolution. Think well with thyself Meliantes, (said he to himself, as he told me since) consider what thou art about; Astidamus is brother unto Argelise, unto whom thou art obliged; whom thou dost esteem, for whom thou hadst a kind of amity which thou didst think to be love, and so did that lovely but unfortunate Lady, think also: content thyself therefore with being perfidious, and do not quarrel with one who is so dear unto her. But alas, (said he, and reprehended himself) how can I consider Astidamus only as Argelises brother, since he is to marry Arpasia, and betray Cleonide? yet as for this last crime, I should be so just as to pardon him, since I am guilty of the same myself; but for the other, I am not able to endure it: No no, I am not able to endure that Astidamus should ever marry Arpasia; and since I cannot prevent it, unless I take some violent course, I must resolve upon it, and put it in execution with all boldness and constancy.  
As he was in this mind, Astidamus appeared, having none with him, but one page also, so that going towards him, he saluted him, to the end their Pages should take no notice: After which Astidamus began to speak; how comes it to pass Meliantes, (said he unto him) that I should meet you in a walk which I thought had been frequented by none but myself? You meet me here, (replied he) because I came to seek you, and tell you, that I have a business of importance to impart, which I believe will be agreeable to your Mind; For considering the thoughts which I know you have of Cleonide, I make no doubt but you will be glad to know that I am her brother, and that you will make use of those expedients which I shall advise you unto, by not marrying Arpasia whom you love not, and by marrying Cleonide, whom I know you do love.  
How (replied Astidamus, much astonished) are you Clidaris who passed by Samosates? Yes, (replied he) I am the same Clidaris of whom you received an advantageous Character, and who comes to summon you unto a performance of your promise unto my sister, Not that she is my intelligencer, but since the general vogue of the Town is, that you are going to marry Arpasia, I should be very glad (for my own honour's sake, which links me with hers in this business) to understand from your own mouth, the truth of your intentions.  
But to the end you may not believe I assume a name which belongs not unto me (said he, and showed him the two Letters which he had written unto Cleonide) so here your own hand, which I could not have but from the hand of my sister, and answer me punctually unto what I shall ask you When I writ these two Letters unto Cleonide (replied Astidamus sharply) I did intend to do what I writ, but now I see she doubts my promises that she sends to me for a more clear manifestation, and that she hath concealed from me your being her brother, her infidelity 〈◊〉 all dispense with mine, nor ever was my engagement so great with Cleonide, that her reputation should be at stake, I loved her, and she allowed me, but never was any noise made of it in the world, and though it should be known I was in Love with her; and was not hated, yet would she not be dishonoured by it, whether any know it or no, replied Meliantes it is no matter, it's enough I know it, to make me move you unto a performance of your promise which you made unto her.  
I had performed it, (replied Astidamus craftily) had she trusted unto my word, but now I do not think it fit to incense Protogenes, lose all my fortunes, and put an affront upon Gabrias and Arpasia, to satisfy a person, who hath put an affront upon me,  
Will you not then marry Cleonide, (said Meliantes coldly) and do you intent to marry Arpasia? since reason requires I should, I will (replied Astidamus) and I know not who or what can hinder me. Should I follow my own inclination (replied Meliantes) my sword should force you to that, which the consideration of Justice will not. But a prevalent reason, best known to myself forbidding me to use that extreme until I be forced, I will acquaint you further. that I am no● only Cleonides brother, but also the Lover of Arpasia, so as though I could consent you should slight my sister, yet I cannot let you marry my mistress: And therefore having a double interest in the affair, I advise you to examine the matter, and resolve courageously to do what becomes you, since as I th●nk there is no great difficulty in it, for since you do not love Arpasia but do love Cleonide you may most easily satisfy both me, and yourself.  
Since I value my honour above all things (replied Astidamus sharply) I need not spend more time in deliberation; and therefore let the difference be terminated by Combat, to let you see that it is not your sword can force me to keep promises, to that end let us send our servants further off: So these two Enemies began to fight with as much Courage as animosity: But striving to vanquish, and when they were ready to kill each other, a Coach full of Ladies, and many men on horseback appeared very near them: and they came so happily, that neither of them were wounded when they were forced to end their Combat.  
But the wonder was, who should be in the Coach but the Mother of Astidamus, and Argelyse? So that the first object of this fair one was to see her Brother with a sword in his hand sighing against her pretended Lover, of whose infidelity she was ignorant. As soon as she saw them, she cried out in testimony of her wonder and sorrows; so as being parted, they knew her voice, and turned their heads to the place from whence the voice came. Meliantes looking upon her, and she upon him, he was so ashamed to think she should know of his new passion, that he had much ado to endure her looks. Yet he saluted both her Mother and her very civilly: and ask pardon for his being found in that Condition with her Brother, he told her in two words, that it was an effect of his misfortune and misery which deserved pity.  
In the mean while, Astidamus and Meliantes seeing much company come in, and their Pages appearing, they saw that they could not prevent their being carried to the Town, from which they were not distant above two hundred paces: and in which they no sooner were, but Protogenes set Guards upon them, until he knew the cause of their Quarrel, and had seen Gabrias: For since Meliantes came with him, he thought it not expedient to do any thing in the business without him. You may imagine Madam, what a noise this Combat made in Alfenes, and in what a Condition all those persons were who had any interest in the business.  
When Arpasia heard the news, and thought upon the danger unto which Meliantes had exposed himself, and what a noise this quarrel would make, she was extremely troubled, she was afraid, lest they should think that she had contributed any thing to the Combat, also feared that this quarrel in lieu of breaking the Marriage, would hasten it. In the mean time, she knew not how to be satisfied of the truth, but was forced unto patience, till time did satisfy her curiosity. On the other side, Cleonide was as angry both against her Brother, and against her Lover: She thought the first of these did not care for her, since he would kill a man, whom he knew she affected with much tenderness: Also she thought that Astidamus did not love her, but was a most perfidious man, since he would kill her brother. So that being angry sometimes against one, and sometimes against another, she was in a most impatient desire to know more circumstances of the Combat. Astidamus for his part, he was not a little perplexed, for he stood in extreme fear of Protogenes, because his fortunes depended upon him, and therefore was extremely afraid lest he should be offended at his engagement with Cleonide; the love he bore unto her never troubled him, nor made him ashamed; and that esteem which he had of Arpasia made him loath she should know of his inconstancy and double dealing.  
Meliantes for his particular was in a most restless condition, out of fear lest Arpasia should be offended at what he had done, and that he had told Astidamus how he was in Love with her: The presence of Argelyse was no small grief and shame unto him, though he had some small Consolation out of a far-fetched hope that he should break off the Marriage of Astidamus with Arpasia.  
But as for Argelyse, she knew not what to think of the Combat between her Brother & Meliantes, & she was very diligent to find out the truth of the business: And though Astidamus was under guard, yet she could speak with him, because she was not a person suspected. Argelyse then taking her Brother aside, whilst her Mother was with Protogenes, negotiating for a reconcilement of the business, she pressed him to tell her the cause of his quarrel with Meliantes: And Astidamus being willing to satisfy her, he began to relate his love unto Cleonide, his voyage unto Gabrias, his affection unto Arpasia, his renewing with Cleonide after his return, his fears of displeasing Protogenes if he should confess his passion, and his ambitious design of forsaking Cleonide, and marrying Arpasia.  
Is it as the brother of Cleonide (said the impatient Argelyse and interrupted him) that Meliantes fought with you: Doubtless it is (replied he) and more, for he fought with me as the Lover of Arpasia. As the Lover of Arpasia? (said Argelyse and blushed) it is impossible. Since I had it from his own mouth (replied Astidamus) I need not doubt it. Is it possible brother (replied Argelyse) that Meliantes should love Arpasia, and fight with you rather as her Lover, than as Cleonides Brother? I am so certain of it (replied he) that you need not question it any further: But Sister (said Astidamus, and looked earnestly upon her) why do you think it so strange that Meliantes should be in Love with Arpasia who is one of the greatest Beauties in the world? Did he persuade you whilst he was at Samosates that he loved you? and have I the same interest of honour to be revenged upon him, as he pretends to have of me? I beseech you tell me whether I conjecture right, as the alteration of your Countenance doth persuade me that I do. Speak, dear Sister (said he) I conjure you to tell me truly.  
Alas dear brother, what would you have me tell you? said she, I would have you tell me the truth (replied he) but than I must hold my hand before my eyes when I tell it (replied she) I mean when I tell you, that Meliantes is perfidious, who persuaded me that he loved me, and told me that his chief design in coming to Alfenes was to get your Love, but I perceive he hath changed his mind: yet I do not see what advantage I shall get by acquainting you with his infidelity, and my weakness: For truly brother, as long as you are resolved to forsake Cleonids for Arpasia, you cannot upbraid him that he should forsake me. 'Tis very true, replied Astidamus; but he hath not so much right to pretend unto the Love of Arpasia, as I have: And though I receive no other advantage from his flighting you, but that it will hinder him from being the Lover of Arpasia, yet that is very great, and you have reason to think yourself happy in coming so opportunely to be revenged on him: Alas brother, said she, you will be more revenged upon me than him, if you publish the innocent affection which I have unto that unfaithful man. However, replied Astidamus, I must make him appear as culpable as I am to Cleonide; and to that end I conjure you to acquaint me with all the testimonies of his affection which ever he gave unto you. Alas (said she and sighed again) since I am not in a Condition to receive any, I will not remember them any more.  
As they were thus in discourse, they were interrupted by several persons of quality who came in a Compliment unto Astidamus after his Combat: So as Argelyse being forced to retire and hide her sorrows, Astidamus remained alone with them who came to visit him. But as soon as ever they were gone, he employed all his endeavours to get one of the Guards to carry a Letter unto Meliantes, by which he intimated unto him, that since he had begun a quarrel with him as he was the brother of Cleonide, and the Lover of Arpasia, he thought good to tell him from the brother of Argelyse, and from him that was to marry Arpasia, that he should endeavour to escape from his Guards the night following, as he hoped to do from his, to the end they might finish their Combat in a Place which he appointed, unless he would yield Arpasia to him, and marry Argelyse.  
But Madam, this Letter was not delivered unto Meliantes; for since Protogenes caused him to be guarded more closely than Astidamus; the man who was to deliver this Letter unto Meliantes was stopped and searched by the Guards: and this Letter being found about him, he was carried unto Protogenes, when Gabrias and the Mother of Argelise and he were together. You may judge Madam, what disorder this Letter caused, for by it Protogenes knew that Astidamus was unfaithful unto the Sister of Meliantes, and that Meliantes was unfaithful unto the sister of Astidamus. Gabrias for his part, he saw more plainly than before, that his Daughter had good reason for her aversion against a man who did not love her: And the Mother of Argelise understood that the heart of her Daughter was more engaged than she imagined.  
In the mean time, such an adventure as this was not to be kept secret, for the letter was read aloud by those who took the man which should have given it unto Meliantes: Two days were spent in the examination of the business, before any thing could be resolved upon: Such an universal report was spread over all Alfenes, that nothing else was talked of. You may imagine, that Alcianipe was as busy as the busiest, in giving advice; and tumbling truths and lies together, she composed a most strange history of all those persons. But Madam, it is fit I should tell you how sadly the fair Arpasia resented it, when she heard that Meliantes was accused of Infidelity to Argelise, though he was unfaithful, only because he loved her.  
However, she always affirmed to me, that her sorro w●s proceeded only from resentments of esteem and friendship.  
But Madam, (said I unto her) Since the infidelity of Meliantes is advantageous to you, me thinks he deserves to be excused, and that you should not be grieved, especially since you are in good hopes not to marry Astidamus; and since it may so come to pass, that you may marry Meliantes, who is one of the best accomplished men in the world. Meliantes replied she, most certainly is a very excellent man, but since he can be unfaithful, he can never be my Lover with any hopes of being loved, my friend indeed he may be, and under that notion, I can both pity and excuse him, but he must never pretend any further.  
On the other side, Meliantes knowing that Arpasia did know of all his adventure with Argelise, and that Argelise knew of his love to Arpasia, he entreated two different things from Phormion, for he desired him to go and make excuses for him to her, unto whom he had been unfaithful, and also unto her, who made him commit the infidelity.  
Since those who guarded him, had orders to let Phormion come to him, because it was known he carried himself very moderately, he had the liberty to vent all the variety of his thoughts unto him. I beseech you dear friend (said he unto him) use all your Rhetoric to sweeten the sharpness of Argelises mind, provided you mention nothing which may offend my love unto Arpasia; but when you talk with that divine person, who reigns Sovereign in my soul, imply all the faculties of your ingenuity so, that she may not deprive me of her esteem. Were Arpasia a common person, I should hope she would thank me for my infidelity, but knowing her as I do, I fear she will suspect my passion; tell her than I beseech you, who knows my heart, that I am less unfaithful than she imagines, since I was never in love with Argelise, so far as she believed: Yet do not insult upon that unhappy person, but protest unto Arpasia, that though Argelise was first my affectionate friend, yet she was not my first Love, tell her my heart deceived me, when I thought I was in love with Argelise, and that the young experience which I had in that passion, made me tell harmless lies, when I assured Argelise that I loved her, since it is a most certain truth, that the power of Arpasias' charms hath prefectly taught me that I was never really in love with any, until I first saw her, and since it is so, I ought not to be looked upon as an unfaithful man, whose love must be suspected.  
Phormion would have endeavoured to avert him from the Love of Arpasia, but he was not able.  
In the mean time, this wise and faithful friend, who in that little time he had been in Alfenes, had gotten a Language which was not natural unto him, did very exactly execute that employment which Meliantes did put upon him, but he found Argelise so choleric, that do what he could, he was not able to qualify her incensed spirit. As for Arpasia, he found her very sweet and civil, and she told him, that she thought herself much obliged unto Meliantes, for hazarding his life in her behalf, though she could have wished he had not applied such violent remedies, but she desired him to tell Meliantes from her, that she wished, he would not any longer continue obstinate in loving her, since he did but lose his Labour. Then Phormion for all that, did persuade her withal the reasons which his friend had furnished him withal, but she told him again so resolutely, that she would never entertain a Lover whom she could suspect of inconstancy, that he plainly saw, Meliantes had no hopes.  
On the other side Cleonide seeing infallibly, that Astidamus forsook her out of self interest, she was so incensed against him, as she declared that though he should return again unto her, yet he should return in vain. for she would never marry a man, who had more ambition in his heart than love.  
This example of Cleonides generosity, wrought so upon the heart of Argelise, that she being out of hopes Meliantes would ever become her slave again, she said as much as Cleonide did, so as the resentments of these three persons, being quickly known unto Protogenes, and Gabrias, they did not think the business so difficult to be composed; yet were they very sorry to see, that the marriage of Arpasia and Astidamus could no be consummated; but since they still united their interests against the King of Assyria, they made the best of this adventure they could: So that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Meliantes and Astidamus, were almost equally culpable to each other, and their sisters, and that Cleonide and Argelise, would not pretend unto their Lovers, nor Arpasia, unto Meliantes; they conceived that there was nothing else to be done, but to prevent a second combat: And employing the persuasions of all their friends, these two enemies did seem to yield unto the desires of their friends purposely to be rid of their guards; and they con●ented to imbtace each other, promising to quarrel no more: But for all that, hating one another with an inveterate malice, as they embraced each other, there passed a reciprocal challenge between them, and they carried it so cunningly, that none perceived it.  
They both went out of Alfenes the night following, and fought the next morning by break of day, where none was present to part them, Meliantes wounded Astidamus very dangerously, and disarmed him, so that seeing he could not enter into Alfenes, after this combat, considering the condition of his enemy, he retired, after he had put him into the hands of his page, who waited upon him, and that he sent his own page unto Phormion, to acquaint him with the place where he would stay for him, giving him a Letter also for Arpasia.  
Thus Madam, immediately after this fair one understood, that Astidamus was brought in much wounded, this page found an opportunity to give her his Master's Letter, wherein was writ these words, if my memory fail me not.  
To the Fair ARPASIA.  
Madam,  
I Have oft heard say, that one may treat a perfidious Lover ill; but I cannot think it just, to use a faithful Lover so, I conceive Madam, that Argelise cannot hate me without she be unjust; and I conceive you cannot hate me unless you be cruel. However, though perhaps you believe not this, yet I cannot choose but conjure you to remember, that had it not been for my love to you, you had been the wife of Astidamus, and believe, that in what part of the world soever I am, I shall be eternally your Lover, and shall be more faithful under the name of Meliantes, than ever I was under that of Clidaris.  
I being with Arpasia when she read this Letter, I observed she could not read it without some disorder, yet she would not answer it, only entreated Phormion when he came to bid her adieu, to tell his friend, that she was so just as never to forget her Obligations to him, conjuring him to think of her as a person, who could not be any more than his friend.  
But Madam, after Phormion had met with Meliantes, since it was easy to foresee, that Gabrias would very shortly return, he would not go very far from Alfenes, purposely to know the passages there, and being resolved to speak with Arpasia say what Phormion could, he would meet Arpasia upon the way.  
In the mean time, whilst we were at Alfenes, Gabrias was much perplexed; for since Meliantes did first come with him, and since it was he who presented him unto Protogenes, this man grieving to see his nephew in danger of death, pretended that Gabrias must needs know where Meliantes was, and that it was fit he should inform him.  
Gabrias for his part, being persuaded, that this Duel was fought without any foul play, and with equal advantage, and thinking it against the Laws of honour to pursue Meliantes, he told Protogenes, that he knew not where he was: But though he did know, he would not tell him, unless his thoughts were better than he saw them. So as growing insensibly very bitter one against another, though their interests required an union, they parted upon ill terms, and much animosity one against another.  
But I do verily believe, the black tongued Alcianipe did blow the bellows of their anger very much, for she divulged a report, that Protogenes had a design to discover the intentions, which Gabrias had of taking part with Ciaxares; and to make his own pe●ce with the King of Assiria, intended to send both him and Arpasia unto Babylon, and at the very same time, she told others, that Gabrias thinking to betray Protogenes, had secretly conveyed some soldiers into Alfenes, and that Arpasia did set on Meliantes to fight with Astidamus, but the wonder was, that she thinking to tell a lie did tell a truth, for she affirmed, that Meliantes was to meet Arpasia? upon the high way, as she traveled. Moreover, she said, that she was sure there was most intimate affection between them: Again, she would not allow that this duel was fought with fair play, and vented such invectives, both against Cleonide and Argelise, that her venomous tongue did become odious, unto all that had any interest in these two Ladies, or had any sparks of virtue in them; & she had drawn such an universal hatred upon herself, when we came from Alfenes, that all the Ladies intended to forbear any more visits unto her, as the most dangerous and detestable person upon earth.  
In the mean time, after our departure was resolved upon, and that Gabrias and Protogenes, though they defied one another, yet carrying it as if they were good friends, all the Ladies came to bid adieu unto Arpasia, and to testify their sorrows to lose her, yet Argelise must be excepted; who feigning to be sick, could not find in her heart to visit a person, who had taken the heart of her Lover from her, and who she thought, had caused her brother to be in that condition he was, but as for Cleonide, she came, and had much discourse with Arpasia, in a ver y obliging way.  
However, Arpasia telling her, that she believed, Astidamus would return unto her as soon as he was recovered; Cleonide answered her, that thanks be to the Gods, her recovery had preceded his, for Madam, (said she unto her) if Astidamus had cast me off, only ou● of love to you, than your rare beauty, and excellent merit, might have excused him; and I should have easily pardoned him, but that he should quit me out of self interest, thisisa thing which moves me to s●orn him and to rejoice that I have thrown him out of my heart. And indeed Madam, this fair one desiring to be out of that place where she had received such a most sensible injury, desired her aunt, that she might go back unto her Father, where shortly after, she was very advantageously married.  
However, we understood before our departure that Astidamus would not die of his wounds, and we understood further, how it grieved his very soul, that he could not satisfy neither hisambition nor his Love, and therefore conceived a most horrible hatred against his Conqueror, for Protogenes was much incensed against him: Cleonide, she went away, and he saw there was no likelihood of ever marrying Arpasia.  
But in conclusion Madam, we parted; and not dreaming of Meliantes, we met him upon the road. 'tis true, Gabrias did not see him, and it is as true, that Arpasia had not seen him but for me: For be pleased to know, that as we came to the Town, where he saw her the first time, and informed her concerning the Column which was erected by Sesostris, a man unknown unto me brought me a Letter from Meliantes, which conjured me to help him unto an opportunity of bidding Arpasia adieu, and that since he had been instrumental, in breaking off her marriage with Astidamus, she would not deny him that favour, upon which consideration, I thought it not fit to deny him what he asked, and knowing Arpasias' mind so well as I did, I did not think she would be sorry to see him. Yet I thought it expedient not to ask her permission, since perhaps her scrupulous virtue might dolour at it, so as returning an answer unto Meliantes, who was concealed in the town where he lay, I told him, I would use my best endeavours of getting Arpasia to walk in a garden belonging to the house where we lodged, and if he would be at the door of the garden which was towards the River, I would open it unto him, when Arpasia was there And accordingly it was carried; for it being an easy matter to persuade Arpasia unto a walk when it was fair, because she loved it extremely, I moved it unto her as soon as she did rise from Supper: Arpasia then went whether I desired with very little company, and Meliantes saw her, and spoke to her in an Alley where none but I was with her, and without her contributing unto it: for since it was her custom to talk often in private with me; as soon as she called me all the rest of her women withdrew. I need not tell you, Madam, how she was surprised at the sight of Meliantes; but I will tell you, that as soon as he came near her, he addressed himself, I beseech you Madam (said he unto her) permit me to receive so much satisfaction, as to hear from your own mouth, the reasons of my condemnation, and to know by what motives, the best and most sweet Lady upon earth is become the most rigorous; for truly Madam, as long as I passed under the notion of the strange Meliantes, you esteemed me and was very friendly, but as soon as ever you knew who I was, and knew that I did infinitely love you, than you began to be unjust. To testify that I am not so (replied Arpasia) I assure you that I do remember all my obligations to you, and will never forget the good service you did me in preventing my marriage with Astidamus; and to manifest my sincerity, more than it may be, I ought, I will ingeniously tell you, that if you had never loved Argelyse, or at least had not promised eternal affection unto her, perhaps I should have permitted you to love me in such a way as you desire; since setting your infidelity aside, I do find you a man every way worthy of my Father's choice and mine. The truth is, your birth, your wit, your courage, your goodness, your generosity, and a thousand other good qualities, are very complaisant; but since you have been so perfidious unto Argelyse who is infinitely amiable, you may as well be so unto Arpasia if she should permit you to love her. Alas Madam (said he unto her) I never bore unto Argelyse more than tender friendship: By excusing yourself one way (replied she) you accuse yourself another, for if you were in love with Argelyse, than you were only an inconstant man, and if you were not in love with her, than you were worse than inconstant, in not telling her as much, but engaging her heart without engaging yours also: if Phormion told you at Alfenes, what I desired him (replied Meliantes) he told you that indeed I thought myself in love with her, but yet it was only amity, and therefore ought not to pass for a perfidious man in your opinion, though I may pass for an unconstant man in Argelises. However it be, replied Arpasia, I must never rank you in any other form, than in the degree of friendship; and therefore I pray you regulate your mind accordingly and believe that it is so impossible I should ever be sure of your affection, as you would be a very unhappy man if I should suffer you to love me: For Argelyse is fair and charming, and since she was not able to return your heart, it is unlikely I should; and to tell you truly, as the state of things are, I ought to dispose of myself; for since my Father did once intend to sacrifice me unto his Revenge, he may perhaps do the like again, and in all probability I am destined to make the most advantageous treaty for him; and I consider myself as an Hostage, not knowing into whose power I shall fall.  
If I would oblige you unto many things Madam (replied Meliantes) than you had reason to use these arguments against me, but alas I do not Madam; all I desire is, that you would let me love you, and that you would be pleased to refer the knowledge of my fidelity to time, which is the best Judge of faithful affections: and I beg this of you before the beginning of a most rigorous absence, and my love will be put upon a most dangerous test, so as if I prove an inconstant man, I shall never trouble you again, since I shall never see you any more; and if I prove faithful, I should be unjust if I did not desire the honour of serving you again. Therefore I beseech you Madam, grant me the liberty to love you, and consider how small a thing it is I ask, for though you should not grant it, yet I could not choose but still adore you, and though you should forbid me, yet I must disobey: But though I should love you whether you will or no, yet I should imagine it a great happiness if I could obtain your leave for it; therefore deny it not I conjure you Madam, since I beg it without condition. I freely consent (said she unto him) that you should still continue my Friend, but as for matter of Love, never look for any leave from me: If you do drive me into despair Madam (said he unto her) you will force me to follow you and never leave you, until I have obtained what I now beg, I think you more generous Meliantes (replied Arpasia) than to expose my honour. And since the venomous tongued Alcianipe hath given it out, that I obliged you to fight with Astidamus, it would be believed, if you should take that course, and therefore I conjure you not to think of it, nor desire any thing which doth cross my inclination. Let us part therefore since reason requires it, and submit to your destiny, without desiring to be the arbitrator of your own fortune.  
If the Gods be resolved you should love me, and that I should change my mind, they will do it by ways unknown unto us, and if they will not, you will trouble yourself in vain.  
Do therefore I pray you what prudence requires you should, and without any complaints against my rigour, be assured that you have more of my esteem and confidence than ever any person had; alas Madam (said Meliantes then) how little do I want of being happy? for you need but add four or five words more unto what you have said, to make me most completely happy.  
After this, he used many tender expressions, which indeed did tender the heart of Arpasia, but did not make her resolutions stagger, so as she parted from him, without giving him leave, either to love or follow her, and his fears of incensing her, made him resolve upon a patient departure the next morning, so he returned home with a violent passion, and without hope, and Arpasia returned unto her father, having a very great esteem of Meliantes.  
In the mean time, those who are tied unto others by such interests as are mutable and various, are never well united, longer than the reason which united doth continue, and therefore Protogenes thinking it better to sit still, than engage himself in a doubtful war, he broke off with Gabrias, so that he alone gave just suspicions of revolt from the King of Assiria, and prudence requiring, that he should do what his desire of revenge had inspired him withal, he fortified his palace, and made it a garrison, and prepared himself to take part with Cyrus, (as soon as that Prince, who then went under the name of Artamenes) should approach.  
In the mean time, we understood Astidamus was still very ill of his wounds, and kept his bed a long time; also we heard that Meliantes was not yet cured of his passion, for he writ very often unto Arpasia, though she did never answer any of his Letters: 'tis true, she suffered me sometimes to write unto him, but ever commanded me to forbid him writing any more unto her, unless he could better regulate his mind: And at sometimes me thought, that I had some reasons to think, that if Meliantes were but with Arpasia, and were obsequious in courting her, she would forget his infidelity unto Argelise, but so many several occasions obliged Meliantes to stay in his own country, that he could not possibly leave it: for besides his father's unwillingness to part with him, he was engaged in a business which would not allow him with honour to depart from the place, where his enemies would draw an advantage from his absence.  
In the mean time, All Asia being up in arms, either for the illustrious Artamenes, or for the King of Assiria, nothing else was talked of, and the name of Artamenes was so famous, that it was continually in the mouths both of his friends, and enemies, with equal admiration. Gabrias, being resolved to take his part, he heard to his great grief, that his army was not so strong as the King of Assiria's, but he heard also to his great joy ', of the happy Omen which he had, when in beginning to march, he saw a great Eagle flying upon his right hand, which making towards Babylon, seemed to teach him the way he was to take; and he heard further, to his great satisfaction, that he had repulsed the first troops of his enemies, and forced his passage over the River Gnides. But Madam, a few days after, we heard with wonder, of the invention which the famous Artamenes had to make his army pass the river, dividing it into threescore several channels, also we heard further to our heart's joy, how he had disordered the Assiryan troops, after he had passed the river, and how great a terror he had struck into the body of the army, so as Gabrias now seeing nothing but a River between him and Artamenes, from whom he looked for protection, he prepared to go and ask it himself in person, He went then in the head of three hundred horse only to meet this Hero, to offer him all that was in his power, I need not tell you Madam, how the renowned Artamenes received Gabrias, for you need not doubt of the goodness of that Prince, nor with what magnificence Gabrias entertained him at his palace; and yet there happened some passages so pertinent, unto the History of Arpasia, that I must not omit them, I shall therefore tell you Madam, that the first day Artamenes saw the fair Arpasia, an illustrious Persian called Hydaspes, was then with him; so as after the first civilities, Artamenes being obliged to talk with Gabrias, who had mentioned unto him something concerning a negotiation which he had with the Prince Gadates, to engage him in the interest of Cyaxeres, It was Hydaspes only who talked most unto the fair Arpasia but her wonder was to hear him speak in her own Language very exactly.  
I being an eye witness of all passages at this interview, must needs confess, that I thought Hydaspes to be infinitely lovely, yet he was not very tall, being neither too high nor two low, he was very handsome. Moreover, all the features of his face were excellent, and his air infinitely noble; though he was highly brave, yet there was no ferosity in his humour, or behaviour, but on the contrary, he had a marvelous charming sweetness in his physiognomy, his wit was nimble and smooth, and indeed fortune could not bring a more dangerous Rival unto Meliantes than he.  
Not that I intent to commend the merits of the one above the other, for I must ingeniously confess, I am unwothy to be a Judge between two such superlative men; but I am confidently persuaded, that none but Hydaspes could ever become a competitor with him, in the heart of Arpasia, so it chanced, that their first discourse was something disavantageous unto Meliantes, because it was advantageous unto Hydaspes, for the conference between Artamenes and Gabrias being very long, the discourse between Hydaspes and Arpasia was not short, but they had time enough to talk of many several things: So that after Hydaspes had elegantly commended the beauty of Arpasia, and that she had rejected his applauds, with much ingenuity and modesty; they began to talk of the alteration and revolution which war brings upon all things when it continues long, for it often happens (said Hydaspes) that war makes strange subversions in the dominions of Love, since it separates many Lovers from the persons loved, and many do either cure themselves of their passions, or change their mistresses by changing places, but as for the last of these, it never befalls any Persians; perfidiousness in Love, is a crime which they can never be upbraided with in any Justice. Since it is natural for every one, to be Lover of their own countries (replied Arpasia) I do not wonder, to hear you commend your own; but I believe Sir, that there are Infidels of that nature in all countries of the world.  
Truly Madam (said he unto her) I know none in Persepolis, and the whole court of Cambyses cannot produce an example to convince me of a Lie, doubtless there are some who cease loving sometimes, out of reason, either because their mistresses are too rigid, or for some other good cause, but never was any found who changed their affection out of any natural inconstancy, or because they found other Ladies more fair than those, they first loved; and they are so fully persuaded, that changing without a good cause is perfidiousness, that they make it a point of honour not to change affection out of fantasticallness, but to resist their own inclinations, if they offer to change affection without very good cause,  
As Hydaspes said so, the remembrance of Meliantes made Arpasia blush, at least she told me so since, so as to hide this little disorder, the cause whereof she knew very well, she begun to speak, and told Hydaspes (who she saw observed her) that to keep her sel● in his good opinion she would tell him the cause of that alteration in her face, for truly said she unto him,) I cannot hear you blame infidelity, but I must needs be sorry for a friend whom I do accuse also.  
For my Particular, (said Hydaspes) were I a woman, I should never love a man who had taken his affection from another, for who soever will be perfidious to one will also be perfidious to two, and consequently to all the world. I ever had that opinion Sir, replied Arpasia, but to go rationally to work, I conceive it best neither to trust those who are perfidious, nor those who are not, since though they be not yet they may be.  
Indeed Madam said Hydaspes you must always except Persians, and of all Persians, you must put Hydaspes in the first Rank of those who are uncapable of any change in their affections. Truth is, Madam, I do so resolutely love what I do love, that I know not how to retreat: what I think once fair I shall think it so as long as I live, and I am so extremely jealous of my own thoughts, that I can never change: And I dare assure you that as I have this day begun to esteem you, so I shall esteem you till death; for I cannot think I shall ever discover any thing in your Soul which is not as fair as your face, nor do I doubt but that you have as much generosity as wit.  
After this, they talked of many other things which I remember not, but I remember very well that Arpasia talked of nothing but Hydaspes all the rest of the day; and I understood since ●hat Hydaspes talked of nothing but Arpasia after he left her. The day following he saw her again and applauded her more than the day before, and to perfect their acquaintance, Gabrias intending to put his Palace into the hands of Artamenes purposely to purchase his confidence; Artamenes left Hydaspes in it, until Gabrias had finished his treaty with Gadates, and then both to come unto Cyrus before he gave any Battle.  
Hydaspes was not a little joyed to remain in a place where Arpasia would be under his power; for the truth is, Madam, there was such a powerful sympathy between these two persons, as I may very well say that never was grea●er progress of affection made in so short a time. In the Interim, Gabrias left a Sister in Law of his with his Daughter during his absence, for he followed Cyrus, and never left him since: What inclination soever Arpasia had unto Hydaspes, yet she was troubled to see him Master of the house where she was: but he did use his power with so much sweetness and discretion that she had all the reason in the world to commend him for the respect he used to her; And indeed as it is impossible for a Lover to be without respect, so his awe of her is not to be wondered at, since he fell in love with her at the very first sight; y●t he durst not give her any testimonies of it, lest she should imagine that his boldness was an effect of that authority which he had upon him. Thus he sighed and durst not tell her, until some happy Accident would give him an opportunity of manifesting his love. Not but that he saw her at all hours when handsomeness would permit; for since he had very little to do in that place, and since he took extreme delight in seeing her, he was almost inseparable from her, but for all that his fears sealed up his mouth. Yet to acquaint you how he came to discover his passion: be pleased to know that Hydaspes being very careful of keeping the place which was of a very great consequence, the Guards were very exact, so as a man who was used to bring Letters from Meliantes coming to the Gates he was stayed, and since he did not give a very good account of his business, he was searched, and they found about him a Packet without subscription, which Hydaspes opened as soon as it was brought unto him. But in lieu of finding any designs against the place, he saw it concerned the possession of some fair ones heart, and so far from Martial ma●ters that the Letter treated all of love, and a Love unsatisfied and worse recompensed, since the stile of these Letters were full of respect, Hydaspes imagined that they were intended unto Arpasia; So as the growing passion of his Soul being full of curiosity, he would see him who brought this Packet, unto whom he put many Questions, purposely to make him confess from whom he brought those Letters (for there was one unto him) and unto whom he was to deliver them. But, Madam, Hydaspes was so over joyed to know by this Letter that Meliantes was treated ill, and that he had hopes Arpasia was not in love with any as he grew more in love with her than before, yet he knew not what to do with this Letter: for he conceived that Arpasia would hereafter know how it fell into his hands; so as he told him who had confessed from whom it came and to whom they were addressed, that he should take special care of not bettaying the secrets of his Master: After which he went to see Arpasia having these Letters in his Pocket.  
After she had talked with him of several things, she asked him whether he heard any news from Ciaxares or from Artamenes? No, Madam (said he unto her) but I have this day received a Packet which is not directed unto me, which I will impart unto you, in saying so, he took the two Letters from Meliantes out of his Pocket, and telling her how the Guards at the Gate had stopped him who brought them, he told her afterwards that since the man would not tell unto whom he was to carry them, he would first before he restored them unto him know whether she was that fair severe One unto whom they were intended: for certainly, Madam, said he and gave them unto her, that it must be unto some person of Quality: Arpasia was exceedingly perplexed at this, because as soon as ever she saw the Letters she knew they were from Meliantes to her: so as to get out of this perplexity, she told Hydaspes, that she was so scrupulous in point of Letters, as she would not see wh●ther they were to her or no, nor did she think it honesty to see too far into the secrets of others; yet Arpasia spoke this after such a manner, as let Hydaspes know that she knew them to be the hand of Meliantes: but he was so joyed that she should think herself so little concerned in those letters, that he could not choose but let his joys appear in his eyes: yet notwithstanding since Arpasia did not think he knew she had any interest in them, she would have been very glad that they were out of his hands, for she persuaded him to restore them back to the m●n, or else to tear them in pieces: Since, Madam, you give this advice before you know what they contain, replied Hydaspes, I think that as much as I do respect you, yet I shall not follow it; If reading them will oblige you to burn them (said she and took them) I had rather see them, and indeed, Arpasia having really a desire to know what was in them, she took them, and turned towards the light to read them as if she had not well enough seen, purposely to hide her blushes: Yet all would not do, for Hydaspes turned as she did and looked attentively upon her as long as she was reading these two Letters which I can show you; for by chance having them about me the same day Arpasia was carried away, I kept them ever since: and therefore not to trust unto my memory I will read them unto you, that you may the better know what thoughts Hydaspes and Arpasia had, that unto me was thus directed.  
Unto the most cruel Confident of my PASSION.  
Madam,  
I Wonder not so much at the cruelty of that most admired Person whom I adore as at yours, nor do I wonder so much that she should never answer me, as that you should write unto me, to assure me that she will never write; for since I cannot leave loving her, I would delude myself and live less miserable, and not run into mad despair as you would make me: I am resolved to come ere long and see whether your words will be better than your Letters.  
In the Interim, be so good as to show this unto her who reigns in my heart, and tell her that it is so absolutely impossible for me to be only her friend, as I shall disobey her as long as I live, if she continue obstinate in so unjust a command.  
As long as this Letter was in reading, Hydaspes all the while looked upon Arpasia, who seeing there was nothing in it which would admit of an ill construction, did so well recover her disorder, that she began to read this which I shall read unto you, without any agitation of spirits, though it was intended unto her in these words.  
Unto the most fair but most inhuman Person in the World.  
Madam,  
YOu are so very unjust, that no Patience can endure it without complaint, for you are pleased not only not to answer me, and to cause another to write, that you will not write any more unto me; but you command me by her that my love should turn itself into friendship, and if I do not, that then your friendship would turn itself into hatred: I cannot tell, Madam, whether your Soul be capable of such a Prodigious change or no; But I am sure my love cannot become friendship and no more: Believe it, Madam, I beseech you, that all your transcendent Merits are not able to work this change in me; But on the contrary know, that be as rigorous as you can unto me, yet I cannot choose but still love you.  
After Arpasia had read this Letter, she told Hydaspes that since it appeared it was intented unto some virtuous Person, it was pity it should be made public, & therefore to prevent it, she would be keeper of it, for (said she and smiled) since she unto whom it is intended does not answer him who writ it, I have changed my opinion, & do not think it fit to be restored unto the man who brought it, lest since it hath been opened he should abuse it: Also it is fitter to remain in my hands than yours, Sir, for since she unto whom it was meant, is very virtuous & reserved, I will spare her the sorrows of any ever knowing that any is in love with her. I do imagine, Madam, replied Hydaspes, that you do know who this fair and virtuous Person is, and if it be as I do imagine (added he and looked her in the face) I am contented to leave these two Letters with you, upon condition you will promise me that she shall never return any answer to them, or at least not answer them favourably. I profess Hydaspes (said Arpasia and laughed) I do wonder you should speak thus, for you know not who writ those Letters, nor unto whom they were written, and yet you would interest me in this innocent business. Indeed, Madam, replied he, I do interest myself more in this business than ever I did in any other, and therefore I conjure you to honour me so far as to promise me that she unto whom this unknown lover hath written will not make any answer: All I can do, replied she, is to promise you that if I do come to know her, she shall not answer with my consent: I ask no more, Madam, replied he, for so she will never answer. But, Madam (pursued he and would not give her time to reply) I beseech you ask her, whether all who shall pretend to love her must expect to be as unhappy as this Lover, and whether she will not answer unto words spoken no more than she will Letters? There is so little reason in your demands, Sir, replied she, that I know not what to answer, for you cannot tell whether ever I shall know her unto whom this Letter is intended, nor do I know her myself, and yet you would have me discover the secrets of her heart, and tell her your thoughts, and that I almost think you are in love with her. As for the last of these, Madam, replied he, I beseech you never doubt it, but be confidently persuaded that I am more in love with her unto whom this Letter was written, than he who writ it can be. As Arpasia was ready to reply, her Aunt entered; so that the conference being broken, the Letters remained with Arpasia who gave them unto me before Hydaspes, to testify unto him that she did not value them, for she knew by his last own words that he either knew or strongly suspected that it was she who had the greatest interest in them: But, Madam, to avoid being tedious after so long a relation, Hydaspes carried himself so well and respectively unto Arpasia, and he so fully persuaded her that he had never been unfaithful nor ever could be, that he was more happy than ever Meliantes was since the fair Arpasia permitted him to love her. Thus this fair Person dividing the tenderness of her heart, she kept all her friendship for Meliantes, and all her love for Hydaspes, who was more obsequious unto her than ever any other Lover was. But Madam, one strange Accident chanced: for be pleased to know that Hydaspes having sent back the man who brought the Letters from Meliantes; this Lover was so grieved at the adventure, that hasting his Journey he came disguised unto the Palace: But since none was permitted to enter without very strike inquisition, and since he had a noble Air which he could not disguise, he was stayed, and known who he was by some men who waited upon Gabrias at Alfenes, and who believing him to be one of the King of Assyrias side, advertised Hydaspes, who in lieu of being glad to see his Rival in his power, was very sorry for it, for he found him so handsome and amiable, that be feared his being loved.  
In the mean time, Arpasia quickly hearing that Meliantes was stayed by Hydaspes, she believed that her Obligations to him for breaking off her Marriage with Astidamus, and her real esteem of him, did require that she would entreat Hydaspes to use him well, but to do it and not make him jealous, she desired him to set him at liberty and send him away with a Convoy, lest he should fall into the hands of Artamenes, who might perhaps take him for an Enemy, though he had not yet declared himself. On the other side, Meliantes who had wit at will, did know very well by the proceedings of Hydaspes, that he was in love with Arpasia; for when he was stayed, as having some design upon the place, Meliantes desired he might be carried before Arpasia, that she might answer for his innocency, assuring himself that as soon as she saw him, she would clear him of any such design: Hydaspes answering him somewhat nicely he gave Meliantes some cause of suspicion that Hidaspes loved her, and that he knew of his love also, so as he thought himself in worse condition than before, and the worse when he knew all the certainty of it by a man of his acquaintance who belonged unto Arpasia; But he thought himself worst of all when Hydaspes told him, that at the request of Arpasia he might go whether he plea●ed, and that he would let him have a Convoy to Guard him; but he would by no means depart until he had seen Arpasia, and was so resolutely obstinate: The Arpasia hearing of it, and fearing he should make too great a blunder in the business, she entreated Hydaspes to let him see her. Until now Hydaspes was so respective unto her, as he seemed to be ignorant of Meliantes his love; but when she de●●red to see him he could not choose but hinder him, yet he did it with so much respect, as he was so far from offending her, as he obliged her to confess all her Adventure with Meliantes, and not to disguise her esteem and amity to him. But, Madam (said Hydaspes) what security can I have against such an accomplished Rival as he is, if you should grant him the honour to see you? you, I say, who have done nothing for me but what friendship may require you should do for him. I pray Hydaspes (said she and blushed) oblige me not to tell you what difference I make between Meliantes and you; content yourself with this that I desire of you a Favour which h● can never enjoy without losing me, since if you give him that liberty which I ask for him he must go far enough from me.  
In conclusion, Hydaspes commanded that Meliantes should be brought unto Arpasias' Chamber, before he was conducted out of the Town: But since she did not think that Meliantes had any suspicion that Hydaspes was in love with her, she was not afraid to see him: but on the contrary, did desire it in hopes ●to persuade him to think no more upon her. But after the first salute she told him he was beholding unto Hydaspes for setting him at liberty and not acquainting Artamenes: Alas, Madam, said he unto her, though I do not acknowledge the liberty which he gives me for a Favour, yet I shall not be ungrateful: But I think that I have more reason of complaint against his banishing of me, than to thank him for my liberty: For, Madam, I see Hydaspes loves you, & if I be not much mistaken, Hydaspes is much more fortunate and happy in your favour than ever Meliantes was. All that I can say unto you, is (replied Arpasia) that I will do justice unto you both, and what place soever you had in my heart, you shall hold it as long as I live; nor is it so bad a one as you imagine, for I hold you in the degree of esteem, Acknowledgement and Friendship: how glorious soever that honour be, Madam (replied he) yet would most willingly exchange with Hydaspes; however I am most sure he cannot love you with a Zeal comparable to me: However it be Meliantes, said Arpasia, since 〈◊〉 look upon you only as my friend, it will not concern you whether Hydaspes be my Lover or no, but if you value my friendship, it concerns you to speak nothing which may offend me; and therefore I conjure you for your own sake to confirm your mind unto mine and to be persuaded of two things; the first is, that your friendship may preserve mine as long as I live: The second is that your love may procure you my hatred; for Meliantes do not deceive your, self, and know that I did never deceive you, but as soon as ever I knew of your fidelity to Argelise, I always told you, that neither I would nor could trust your affection. But I beseech you, Madam (replied Meliantes) who ever told you that Hydaspes who is a person hath not committed as great a piece of Infidelity as this wherewith you upbraid me? yet Meliantes may talk and complain as long as he will before he can change the heart of Arpasia: she tells him indeed that she doth infinitely esteem him, but she tells him withal that his love must never find recompense nor be endured, and he must part from her without so much leave as to love her without any hopes, although she doth promise friendship as long as she lives. Hydaspes being extremely desirous to know how his discourse with Arpasia had thriven, he would be satisfied by seeing him, and guests by his eyes whether he had been well or ill received; and indeed it was apparent by the sadness of Meliantes, that Hydaspes had good cause to rejoice. The interview of these two Rivals was very hollow hearted, and never Prisoner received his liberty with fewer signs of acknowledgement. Thus, Madam, the amiable and unhappy Meliantes went much against his will from a place where he left his Mistress in the power of his Rival; 'tis true, she was not long there for presently after we heard that Gabrias had finished the Treaty of Gadates with Artamenes; that the King of Hyrcania and the Prince of the Cadusians having received some discontents from the King of Assyria, took part with Ciaxares. That the King of Cyprus had sent Forces unto Artamenes under the command of the two famous Grecians, the one named Themocrates, the other Philocles, and that within a few days after a Battle would be fought which in probability would be decissive: So as Hydaspes being persuaded that Artamenes would send for him, he began to prepare himself for a sudden departure, as soon as ever he should receive orders for it, and he knew that love and honour do not always require the same things; for he had a good mind to go whether his honour called him, and he had a good mind also to stay where his affection invited him.  
In the mean time, Artamenes having now a full confidence in Gabrias who had linked Gadates unto his Interests, would needs out of his generosity give back the absolute Authority of his Palace unto him; So as we were much surprised one morning when we heard that Hydaspes had received commands to go unto the Army: That the Forces which Artamenes had left in the Town, had orders also to go out, and that Gabrias sent a Cousin of his to command there in his Palace. I shall not insist upon any relations unto you Madam, what Hydaspes and Arpasia thought upon this occasion, for you will easily conceive them since I have already told you that Hydaspes was infinitely in love with Arpasia, and Arpasia had a strong inclination towards Hydaspes, yet she would not engage herself further than to permit her Lover to love her, and to send her news during his absence.  
But Madam, presently after, fame spoke loud in the glory of Artamenes, and very advantageously of Hydaspes, for we heard, that the first of these gained the battle against the King of Assyria, and the second, having orders to fall upon the King of Phrygia, had overcome him, and took him prisoner, and which added to his glory, in writing to Arpasia, he mentioned not a word of himself, nor any thing but of Artamenes only; in whose applause he told such wonders as was hardly credible the valour of a man could reach so high, as he did set him out.  
Af●er this Madam, such was still the affection of Hydaspes unto Arpasia, that in what place soever either he or she was, she was never above ten days without a Letter from him. During the siege of Babylon, she received one constantly every four days; and whilst he was at Synope, she received one oftener than ordinary, because he had matter enough to send her.  
Indeed Madam, during all the Armenian and the Lydian war, there was a constant commerce of intelligence with out any interruption, until the renowned Artamenes left that name for that of Cyrus, and sent Hydaspes from the Camp at Cumes to release the King of Assyria.  
But Madam, I forgot to tell you, that when Cyrus went into Armenia from Synope, there was a most pestilent infection in the place where we were, so as the Aunt of Arpasia, with whom we then were, was constrained to go out into another strong Castle belonging unto Gabrias, purposely to avoid the contagious air, and in that place she continued until that accident happened, which caused her to be at present under the power of Thomyris. And to acquaint you with this misfortune in few words, be pleased to know, that this Aunt unto Arpasia had a son by a former husband, who had been a long time from her, and returned just when we came to that Castle: He was no sooner arrived, but he fell in Love with Arpasia, but durst not at first acquaint her; not but that this man whose name was Astidamus, was audacious enough naturally, but Arpasia being then very solitary. she would not give him any occasions of talking in private with her; for I being she, who knew all the secrets of her soul, she was never better pleased, than when she could freely talk with me without any witnesses, and indeed, we had always a hundred things to talk of, though we had nothing to do. That which most did amaze us, was, that we never heard any thing of Meliantes, and to increase our wonder, we heard afterwards, that he was not in his own country, nor knew any where he was. As for Astidamus the Nephew of Protogenes, we had better information concerning him, for we heard, that after he was recovered, he sought for Meliantes to fight with him, and not meeting with him, he returned unto Alfenes, where he carried himself so, that he so much offended Protogenes, as that he would not acknowledge him for his successor, but banished him his presence, so as leaving Alfenes, he went to travel, so as when the other Astidamus fell in love with Arpasia, we knew not were Meliantes, nor his ancient Rival was.  
In the mean time, since the passion of this fresh Lover augmented, so that it was impossible for him; but if ever he saw Arpasia alone, to discover his passion unto her, but he did discover it in such an arrogant manner, that Arpasia was extremely angry with him, and answered him with such authority, forbidding him to make the least mention of any such thing, as he saw there was little hopes of ever being loved, yet the slenderness of his hopes did not quench the flames of his passion, but on the contrary, they blazed out more violently, so as despair made him take up a resolution, as unjust as violent.  
For Madam, his design was to suborn the guards of the Castle, and seize upon it, afterwards to force Arpasia to marry him: But Madam, whilst he was plotting this design, the other Astidamus plotted another also, for being out of favour both with Protogenes and also his Mother, he knew not what course to take since he had heard something how Hydaspes was in Love with Arpasia, he could not find a heart to take that side he was on, nor could he attempt any thing for the King of Assiria, who was out of all hopes to get upon his Throne again. So that in this perplexity of mind, knowing Arpasia was in this Castle, his design was to surprise it; and make himself master of it, and to be revenged upon Meliantes wheresoever he was, by possessing Arpasia, of whom he had such a miscellany of thoughts, as I think no man living is able to describe them.  
But Madam, to let you know more than ourselves did at that time, give me leave to tell you that Meliantes, who was not heard of in any place, had also a very odd design.  
As I remember Madam, I told you that Hydaspes had given him a convoy to conduct him whither he pleased, when at the request of Arpasia, he was released. But as fate cannot be avoided, so it happened, that Meliantes wand'ring from one place to another, he was met by some forces belonging unto Artamenes, who was not then known to be Cyrus, so as by this means he was made a prisoner, and as chance would have it, this accident happened just as Hydaspes had orders to go unto Artamenes, and upon his way, did meet those who took Meliantes. whom he knew as he passed by, so that he being a Rival unto whom he stood in fear of, he was very glad to see him in such a condition, as that he could not make any use of his absence, nor go disguised unto Arpasia: Also it chanced, that the Officer who commanded that party which took Meliantes, was his very particular, and singular good friend, so as coming to him, he asked him, what he intended to do with his Prisoner? & the other answering, that all prisoners belonging to those who took them, he should go into a little castle under his command, and stay there until Artamenes did know the quality of the prisoner: As soon as he had said so, a Resentment of Love and jealousy, moved Hydaspes to tell his friend, that this Prisoner was his Rival; and lest he should take any advantage of his absence, he was glad he was a prisoner: and would be glad he did continue so until the war were ended, obliging him notwithstanding to treat him very well, during all the time of his captivity which seemed would be long.  
Meliantes was accordingly conducted unto this little Castle and left there under the keeping of him who commanded there in chief; but Madam, to return unto the last Lover of Arpasia, and unto the Nephew of Protogenes, give me leave to tell you, that the design which Astidamus of Alfenes had of surprising the Castle, and the design of the other Astidamus also, was to make a mutiny in the Garrison, against him who commanded it, to the end they might become Masters of Arpasia, and they were so strangely conducted by the destinies, that the execution of both their design was to be in one and the same night, and also in one and the same hour: So as Madam; never was disorder like unto this, in which we were, for whilst the soldiers which this new Lover had gained, went unto the chamber of him who commanded in chief, with intentions either to turn him out of the place, or to kill him, if he resisted. Astidamus of Alfenes in the head of three hundred men, which the Governor of a neighbour Garrison (who was his friend, and called Lycander) had given him, he came and set Ladders against the walls of the Castle.  
You may easily imagine, how the Commander in chief was surprised, to see himself assaulted by his own soldiers; Also you may imagine, how the other Astidamus was astonished, to see that the Castle should be stormed by men whom he knew not, however, be they who they would, he must think upon defending himself: but since he would not have enemies both without and within al●o, he caused him who commanded the Castle for Gabrias, to be stabbed, and also all the soldiers who were of his intelligence to be killed.  
But since the execution of this cruel Command required some time, it gave so much time unto Astidamus of Alfenes, as to get many of his men into the Castle, than there began such a horrid combat, as the very memory of it makes me quake, we no sooner heard this hideous noise, but we got up in all haste and not being able to do any thing else, we fell unto our prayers.  
But Madam, whilst Astidamus of Alfenes did his best to make himself Master of the place, and whilst the other Astidamus did resolutely defend it, they heard a noise of armed men approaching, so as both sides taking the alarm, both Asti, mus of Alfenes and the other Astidamus, thought how only to get away Arpasia, so as both of them understanding where her chamber was, they both went unto its but by two several stairs.  
Imagine I beseech you, in what a pitiful case we were in, for on the one side, we heard a voice of the second Astidamus, who we heard had killed the Commander of the Castle, and all his Soldiers, and on the other side, we heard a voice which we knew not, for Astidamus of Alfenes did not speak or if he did, we knew not his voice. But our greatest amuse was, to hear on both sides the name of Astidamus called upon, so as we would not open the door unto either of them. But at last Astidamus of Alfenes first breaking open the door, we saw him enter with a drawn sword in his hand, and immediately after, three of his men forced Arpasia to go down the great stairs, and I following her very close, we were carried into the Court, we were forced upon horse back, thus they carried us away, maugre all our complaints and cries, before the other Astidamus could opposeit, for he being in a straight stair case, Astidamus of Alfenes set some of his men to hinder his coming out, until he himself was got out of the castle.  
In the mean time, those armed men which were heard, and who hastened the carrying away of Arpasia, were not such as he supposed them, for he understood by Lycander, whom he met, that the inhabitants of the town, no sooner heard that the garrison was weakened; but they took up arms, and forced him to go out of their town, with the remnant of soldiers which he had.  
Thus Madam, it was he who came to Astidamus of Alfenes, who understanding how he had caused a misfortune unto his friend, and by this means had no place of retreat near, he thought himself in a sad condition.  
But Lycander and Astidamus were in a worse state, when at break of day they perceived that their soldiers had left them, and having now also some twenty horses remaining, they forced us to make all imaginable haste, we not knowing whither they would carry us.  
But Madam, the strangest thing was that Astidamus of Alfenes in carrying away Arpasia, out of resentments both of revenge and interest, was more in love with her than ever, and had been culpable of being moved by adulatory language, had she pardoned this unjust Lover.  
On the other side, Lycander his friend who had never seen Arpasia before, was so taken with her beauty, that it was impossible for him to look upon her without wonder.  
Mean time, we marched on still, not knowing whither they carried us, but at last we came to a wood where we see the other Astidamus appear in the head of ten or twelve horse, who came to assault that Astidamus who carried us away. As for Lycander, he was parted from us, with four or five of his men to find out the way through the wood, through which we were to pass: The combat Madam was fierce and bloody; the two Astidamuses were driven to such a necessity of thinking upon themselves, as I do not think they thought upon Arpasia.  
She and I alighted whilst those who looked unto us, went to defend the lives of their masters, and the other Astidamus was so busy in fight with his enemy, that he took no notice of us. So that taking this opportunity, we ran into the thick of the wood, whilst they were fight. In the mean time, as we understood since the second Astidamus was killed by the other, and Lycander turning back at the noise which he heard was accused by his friend for carrying away Arpasia whilst he was fight; for the affection of Lycander unto that fair one was so visible, that he perceived it: Yet this accusation was false, for there was no appearance of it, since Lycander returned home with his men; but for all that, they quarrelled and fought, and Lycander killed him with his own hand. After this victory, he sought us all the day and all the night, and all in vain, for we had hid oyrselves in a cave, which at this time served us for a Sanctuary, but the fear of wild beasts and famine together forcing us out the next morning, we were so happy as to meet Hydaspes, who after he had delivered the King of Assyria, whom he accompanied unto Cyrus at Cumes, he lost his way in the wood where we met with him.  
Niside making here a stop, related more particularly what Hydaspes had done for Cyrus, and the joys which Arpasia expressed to meet with him, telling afterwards how an empty coach came accidentally by, in which Hydaspes put her: How they had seen men lie dead in the wood amongst which Arpasia knew her ravisher to be one likewise, she related the arrival of Lycander, the contest between Hydaspes and him, their combat; and all that Hydaspes did until he fell dead close by the Coach of Arpasia. Afterwards she told the Princesses, how Lycander having formerly an acquaintance with Atergatis in Assyria, intended to carry Arpasia into that Court as his retreat, but afterwards when he saw that she was troubled at it, he altered his design, and embarked upon the Euxine sea, and how by tempest they were driven unto Cholcidis, where Arpasia fell sick of sorrow.  
The truth is Madam, (pursued Niside) she was so extremely grieved at the crossness of her fortune, and at her fears of Hydaspes his death, that her health was much impaired; She did nothing but talk unto me of all her misfortunes among which she reckoned this for one, that she knew not what was become of the unfortunate Meliantes. But when she was a little recovered, we understood, that Lycander hearing of Cyrus his approach, resolved to take part with Thomyris, and obtained her Protection. But to our wonder, I thought one morning at the first opening of our Tents, that I saw the miserable Meliantes disguised in the habit of a Messagettan; so that Madam, since Arpasia hath three Lovers living, and all brave men, I cannot think her at the end of her miseries, nor that you can add any comforts unto her, but to pity her and to let Gabrias hnow the miserable condition in which she is, and to interest yourself in her misfortunes.  
Niside having ended her Relation, the Princesses expressed much satisfaction from her, and thought it convenient, that as soon as they saw, Intaphernes and Atergatis to make known by them unto Gabrias and Hydaspes the true state of Arpasias Arpasias fortunes. But whilst they were preparing for their great interview which was to add consolation unto them, they knew not, that the heart of Thomyris entained such thoughts as were like to prevent them. The truth is, this Queen who herself desired this truce, and who wished for a sight of Cyrus being upon the point of meeting, her heart began to tremble, so that she could not master it, and as all passionate persons are more apt to change their opinions than others, because they are wholly guided by the motions of those passions which possess them; so Thomyris now feared, what before she desired, and began to be quite of another mind. For (said she) what is it I would say unto Cyrus? and what can I hope he will say unto me? shall I speak unto him concerning hatred or concerning love? shall I appear unto him as a Lover or as an Enemy? is it possible I should ever think he can change his thoughts of me, since I cannot change my thoughts of him? Am I now more amiable than I was, when he stole out of my Court? No, no, but on the contrary, I am so unlike what I was, that I can hardly know myself: when I look in my Glass I find mine eyes are not so much changed as I imagined, but yet my Glory is stained, and I am so dishonoured, that it is impossible Cyrus should now esteem me, though I am not culpable of any other fault but too much loving him: And therefore since there is no manner of likelihood that I should change his heart, by such an interview as this, I will not see him, or at least until after Ariantes hath seen him: For if he speak still with much affection of Manodna, I must not see him at all; for if I do see him. I cannot afterwards treat him as the murderer of my Son: I know very well that I can say I have learned some things which I knew not off before; but I know again, that I shall expose myself by seeing him unto the most cruel adventure that can possibly befall any one that is in Love, which is, to find hatred and scorn in the eyes of the person loved. Stay therefore I will, until Cyrus hath seen his Rival, and I will not expose myself to be scorned by a Prince whose glory is so firmly grounded, that all the world will think whomsoever he scorns is worthy to be so.  
After this, Thomyris being settled in her resolution, gave all requisite orders for the interview of Cyrus and Ariantes, for that of Intaphernes, Atergatis, Istrina, and the Princess of Bythinia. Cynus on his side, prepared to see his Rival, and endeavoured to persuade him, not to be her Persecutor after he had been her Deliverer.  
But to lose no time in the interim of this Truce, in case that all persuasions proved fruitless, that Engineer with whom Cyrus had agreed, was so diligent in his business, that he had prepared so many Trees as were requisite to burn all the wood between the two narrow passages, and he did it so cunningly by the help of those Soldiers which Cyrus appointed to follow his order;, that not one of either-side knew of the business, excepting those who were necessary for the execution of it.  
In the mean time, the day and hour for this interview being come; both sides prepared themselves for it, yet these two interviews were performed several ways, for Intaphernes and Atergatis were conducted by the Officers of Thomyris unto a Tent where those two Princesses whom they were to see should be brought: That of Cyrus and Ariantes was to be on Horseback between the two Frontier Guards of both Camps, and in a place where the wood being divided into three several divisions, there was a great Plain between for this Interview.  
In the mean time, Intaphennes and Atergatis went unto the place which they longed to be at, and they had undertaken so many several businesses that if they had dispatched them all, they would not have had any time to talk of love unto their Princesses; for Cyrus' defined them to talk unto them concerning Mandana: Myrsiles conjured them to inquire of Doralisa; Gabrias obliged them to know all circumstances concerning Arpasia: Hydaspes also conjured them unto the same, by the sensibility of their own Passions: So as since all Lovers do more willingly serve such friends as are in love, than others, they were more ready to do a good Office for Arpasia in consideration of her Lover than in consideration of her Father, but they thought principally of those joys which they were going to receive, which were so great, that when they entered into the Tent, where their Princesses were permitted to meet them, they could not express their thoughts by their words. As for the Princesses they were more Mistresses of themselves than the Princes: for though the Princess Istrina perhaps had as great a desire to speak unto Atergatis, as unto Intaphernes, yet she went to her Brother before she went unto her Lover.  
Atergatis for his part without any consideration of the Princess of Bythinias rank, he saluted Istrina first, and went where his love invited him: The discourse of these four Persons a first was general, for since they were acquainted with all the secrets of each others hearts, and since their fortunes were so twisted that they could not sever them, they repeated all the misfortunes which happened since they saw one another: They spoke of Spitridates and Aramenta of Gadates and Gabrias, of Cyrus and Mandana: Atergatis remembered the request of Myrsyles, and Intaphernes that of Hydaspes, and the Princesses told them all that they thought conducing to the service of Arpasia. But afterwards failing insensibly into particular talk without changing of places, Intaphernes talked in private with the Princess of Bythinia, and Atergatis with Istrina: So as in this hours private discourse they renewed their affections and tied stronger knots of love than ever.  
On the other-side, the hour of the interview between Cyrus and Ariantes being come, these two Rivals with equal numbers of men met in the Plain which I spoke of before in the Wood, and according to the agreement they met on horseback; yet they might very well talk in private, because all the company kept purposely at convenient distances.  
In the mean time, the spirits of these two Rivals were very different: for Ariantes knowing he had betrayed Cyrus, he was much ashamed to look him in the face, and if he durst have disobeyed Thomyris he would not have consented unto this interview; yet love being a Passion which excuseth all things, he conceived that his Crime being caused by excess of love he was not so criminal as he thought himself; and he no sooner saw Cyrus, but looking upon him as a Rival, and a Rival loved, his anger did dissipate a great part of his shame. As for Cyrus, he looked upon Ariantes as that Traitor, and ungrateful Anaxaris, who had robbed him of all his felicity in carrying away Mandana, yet considering how he had her in his power, his excess of Love did cool his resentment, also the last generosity of Ariantes, disposed him to look less fiercely upon him. Cyrus' at this time, was waited upon by Mazares, Myrsiles, Araspes, Aglatidas, Sylamis, Mnesiphiles, Chyrsias, Chrysantes, Lygdamis, and many others. And Ariantes was followed by Octomasades, Agathirsis, Andramites, and all the most considerable men in the Court of Thomyris, except Aripithes, who could not endure the sight of Cyrus, but with a sword in his hand; for being persuaded, that if Thomyris had not loved this Prince than he had been happy, he hated him most extremely. But at last, Cyrus and Ariantes being met, and having saluted each other, only out of complemental generosity, Cyrus began to speak first.  
Before I begin to speak unto you, (said he unto him) I would gladly know from your own mouth, whether I should look upon you as the valiant Anaxaris, whom I most dearly loved, or as the Ravisher of Mandana, whom I am obliged to hate: Were it possible (replied he) that I could be the same Anaxaris, I was in Lydia, or when I was prisoner at Cumes, I should wish your friendship; but since, it is impossible for me to be any other than the Lover of the Princess Mandana; I believe that I shall hardly be the friend of Cyrus, not but that I am extremely sorry, fortune should force me to be ungrateful; but since Sir you know the power of Mandana's charms, I have no excuse for my passion, but that it is above my reason. Though I were the most in love of any man living, (replied Cyrus) yet Love should never make me do any thing which I should repent of, nor which should bring reproach upon me. It is so easy a matter to be just, when one is happy (replied Ariante's) and so difficult a business not to be unjust when one is miserable, that it is no wonder at the difference betwixt you and me in this business: since you have no mind, (replied Cyrus) that I should consider you as a man which will hearken unto Reason, Justice, or Generosity; but as a man whom Love must dispense with all the duties of rational society, I must tell you, that looking upon you simply as the Lover of Mandana, I must look upon you as a man who does even the very worst he can do: For (added he without speaking a word of Thomyris his passion) in keeping Mandana in the power of the Messagettan Queen (who most unjustly accuseth me of her son's death) you expose her unto all the Rigours which revenge is capable of, and you are the most unworthy Lover in the world, if you prefer your own interest before the life of her you love; and therefore to do justly, let not Mandana be in the power of Thomyris, make choice of such a Sanctuary for her as may be inviolable, in any place of the world: And then not to ruin your protectors by an unjust war, let us end our difference by single combat: It was a thing which ●ing●ged myself into with the King of Assyria, though he was a prisoner, and I have more reason to offer it unto a man who is in the head of an army. For (said he) out of his high generosity, to show that Love does not make me so unjust as you are, I do confess, that if my most faithful passion had not set me above all my Rivals, or if death had made me quit the right which I have unto the possession of Mandana, then there were none in the world but Mazares who could dispute with you for her. To give you a direct answer unto the proposition which you make (replied Ariantes) I must tell you that I am not in a condition to accept of it, for doubtless, I am strong enough to hinder Thomyris from attemting any thing against the life of the Princess, but not to get her out of her hands.  
Moreover, to make it appear that I am unjust only in matters relating to my Love, I do declare, that in consideration of those obligations upon me when I was Anaxaris, I will never fight against you, but in the way of war, unless fortune should bring us together as it did in the wood, near the Fort of Sauromates, so as all I can say unto you is, that I will defend the life of Mandana, against the Queen my sister, as if she were my utter enemy, and I will keep the possession of that Princess against you, as if you had never engaged me by your obligations, provided you will defend her against Thomyris, (replied Cyrus sharply) I care not what resolutions you take against me, for since the war I make is just, and since the Gods are so likewise, and since my arms use to be fortunate, it may so come to pass that the Messagettan Queen may come to repent of her injuries, and you also repent of what you have done. Fortune replied Ariantes, is sometimes weary with always favouring the same man; I know not whether fortune be weary (replied Cyrus) but I am sure the Gods are never weary of being just, nor will I ever be weary of persecuting the persecutors of Mandana all the world over: Think therefore of what I propose before we part, I offer once more to fight with you, and to lay aside all those advantages which war hath given me, provided Mandana may be safe, yes (added this Illustrious Prince) I will engage myself, to surrender the Fort of Sauromates, to carry my forces beyond Araxes, and never to make more war upon Thomyris, provided you will oblige her to put the Princess Mandana in some place of safety. I have already told you (replied Ariantes) that I am able to defend the life of Mandana against Thomyris, but I cannot get her out of her power, than there's an end of the truce this very hour (replied Cyrus very angrily) nor will I see Thomyris; for since you cannot persuade her, I am sure I cannot: however, be you the Protector of Mandana against Thomyris, and to give you an example of my equity I declare unto you, that if Mandana do prefer you before me and have a mind to make you happy, I do declare, I say, that I will lay down arms, and without any thoughts of revenge either upon Thomyris or upon you, I will only think to cure myself by death, but yet I will hear her declaration of it from her own mouth.  
Alas, alas (said Ariantes) you know too well, that Mandana will not pronounce sentence on my side, and therefore I can say no more unto you, than what I have already: Since it is so, (said Cyrus sharply) I must retire and prepare myself to fight with you in the head of my army, since you will not otherwise. When I meet you so, (replied Ariantes,) I shall defend myself as I have done, and perhaps I shall vanquish you, as I have done (said Cyrus and retired) As this Prince pronounced these last words with much haste, so Ariantes did not well understand them, but returning a doubtful answer which Cyrus understood not neither. They both of them retired looking fiercely upon one another, and saying no more. Yet a very notable difference might be seen in the fiercensse of these two Princes: for there appeared in Ariantes a mixture of shame and melancholy amongst the fierceness of his countenance, but in Cyrus, nothing could be seen but great and Heroic: For though the the fire of his anger sparkled in his eyes, yet he had a majesty in his countenance, and such a kind of nobleness and grandeur in his carriage, and such a sprightly activity in his looks, as his anger appeared to be very terrible, He turned himself twice or thrice towards his Rival, after he was parted; but as for Ariantes he had not power to do the like, for he having virtuous inclinations, he had a strange repugnancy in himself, as oft as his love did force to things or thoughts against virtue:  
However, as soon as Cyrus saw Mazares and Myrsiles, he told them all the discourse which Ariantes and he had, for since they stood at distances in the wood they had not heard what they said: but he spoke unto them with such a sprightly countenance, as made it apparent to them, that he thought of nothing so much as to be fight. On the other side, Thomyris who waited impatiently for the return of Ariantes, that she might deliberate after that, whether she would see Cyrus or no, and she no sooner saw the Prince her brother, but she desired an account of this interview. Since Ariantes could not faithfully relate all the conference, lest he should move her unto some violent resolutions against Mandana, he would never touch upon that string, but though out of a resentment of love unto his mistress, he durst not incense Thomyris, against his Rival; yet that Princess having a piercing apprehension, plainly perceived, that there was no hopes Cyrus would not cease loving Mandana, so that having no disposition to see him, she coloured it with a pretence, that she had received some Letters which advised her that it was not expedient to expose herself unto that interview, which she resolved upon with Cyrus, so as by this means, that Prince was delivered from this trouble: Yet he had the con●olation to understand by the return of Intaphernes and Atergatis, that Mandana was not ill treated, and excepting the mollitude in which she lived, since the death of Spargapiees, she suffered under no notion of violence. However, the truce being ended, Cyrus be thought himself of executing his design; so as giving all requisite orders for it, he was ready the next night to try the rare secret of the Engineer, which would burn all the wood between the two straight passages and cut off all communication between the enemy's quarters. Cyrus then having made choice of such troops as were to assault the enemy at that place which was most weakly guarded, he prepared himself for the execution of this enterprise which was of so great importance.  
Yet he did not quit that quarter which he possessed near the other pass, lest the enemy should discover his design.  
In the mean time, the project of the Engineer did take admirably well: For he judiciously foresaw, that the wind would rise to favour his enterprise, and would rise so, as would blow the flames towards those Enemies which would relieve those which Cyrus assaulted, and not towards the troops of that Prince. Night being come, Cyrus ordered his men fit for an assault; but before he marched, he acquainted the officers with the fire, which would be on their left hand, and they acquainted their soldiers, so as the thing passing from mouth to mouth, every one was prepared in a quarter of an hour, not to wonder at an accident so extraordinary, but on the contrary, to believe that the victory would be certainly theirs, almost without any danger.  
This being the state of things, Cyrus in the head of his troops, began to march towards the pass: But least the assault should precede the burning, assoon as that Prince began to march, the Engineer according to his first design, did set fire unto twelve trees which he had prepared to receive it, and so judiciously, that those twelve trees being in several places, and in the midst of many others which were rubbed with the same composition, immediately all that wood which separated the two passes was in a flame, Cyrus making his assault at the same time that the fire began, the enemy was strangely surprised, yet since he who commanded that pass, was a very brave and gallant men, he made a stout resistance, in hopes that the fire would not run through the wood, and in hopes he should be relieved by Aripithes who was at the other pass, but he was deceived in his hopes, for the conflagration was so great, that never was object more full of terror and astonissiment.  
In the mean time, since the wind wa●ted the flames towards that side on which Aripithes was they never hindered the march of Cyrus his troops, so as they had all fire on their left hand without any trouble unto them; but on the contrary it helped them in their way with light, and was a terror to the enemy they were to fight withal Not but that this valiant Commander who had the Guard of that pass, and was a Sauromate by birth, did most courageously oppose Cyrus; And Aripithes on his side being advertised of the Assault which was made upon that Pass, he would needs come in person to defend it: but the flames being an obstacle unto him, he was forced to go a great way about to oppose the passage of Cyrus: but this great Prince did not give him any time for it; for seeing that the valiant Sauromate whom he had before him, would rather perish then forsake the Pass which he guarded, he would needs make the assault in person, and fell on so courageously, that he forced him to give ground. And as those who fight retiring do not always preserve their usual judgement; so this valiant Sauromate retired towards the Wood which was on fire, yet since Cyrus conceived that by driving him further, he should leave the passage so open unto his Troops, that Mazares & Myrsiles might pass whilst he was fight; he did force him on so vigorously, as it might in some sort be said he did drive him too far. And indeed this courageous Sauromate seeing himself and his men in a most terrible extremity, he turned his valour into despair, and did such prodigious Acts of Valour, as Cyrus was never in all his life in so much danger as now: And that you may the better know into what danger this great Prince was exposed; be pleased to know that driving those valiant Sauromates towards the inflamed Trees, in hopes to force them to yield themselves, he also had engaged himself in the fire; for since the Soldiers who did according to the commands of the Ingeneir, he unluckily prepared some Trees to receive the fire in a place where he did not command them, and where Cyrus did not think any had been prepared, so it chanced that the fire took hold of these Trees, insomuch as Cyrus who was fight with the Sauromates, was upon a sudden in the midsts of fire and flashing flames; yet he was so fully resolved to vanquish this va●●ant Sauromatan Commander, that he still pursued him: Never was Combat more terrible than this; the great light which was in all the Wood, did make a strange fury appear in the countenances of the Combatants: Their Arms did glister exceedingly, and the fire and smoke together did so alter objects, as Cyrus was hardly knowable; But though he could not be known by the colour of his Complexion, yet he was by his valour. In the mean time, the flames increased, and the blows of Cyrus falling thicker, the Sauromates to avoid them, did run into that part of the Wood which was most in flames, and thinking therefore to avoid his pursuit, a huge Tree did fall and gave a stop unto their flight, so as they died in a most horrid manner. Moreover the horses being frighted at this fall of fire, they carried their Masters into the most dangerous places of the Combat, these miserable Animals choosing rather to avoid the flames then their Rider's Enemies: The rumbling of the wind which blew the flames a●ded unto the crackling of leaves, the falling of fiery Trees, and to the scrikes of dying and vanquished men, did make a noise more hideous and terrible than the murmuring of the enraged Sea and most loud thunder together could do. Cyrus thus being in th●● condition, at last saw all his Enemies dead, except that valiant Sauromate whom he desired to overcome and one other, and he saw himself abandoned by those few men which followed him, not that they were fled, but the fall of an inflamed Tree having separated them from Cyrus, they knew not how to come at him again; so as this great Prince was alone in the midst of fire and flames, against two most terrible Enemies. However in lieu of being astonished, he became more valiant and hardy, and fought it out with such strange vigour, that he vanquished the two Sauromates, for he ran the one through the body, and wounded the other in his right arm and thigh, and came with such fury upon him, that he overthrew his horse, which to avoid the flames left his Master wounded and disarmed, for his Sword broke in the fall, so that getting up again with much ●do, he saw himself at the mercy of this Conqueror, and at the mercy of the fire. But Cyrus being infinitely admired for his valour and clemency: when this Sauromate had yielded himself, and Cyrus saw him without Arms, or Horse, or power to walk, he let him get up behind him, purposely to show him the way through this inflamed Wood and Labyrinth of fire (as I may call it) in which he was engaged. So this valiant Prisoner accepting the offer of his illustrious Conqueror, he got up behind him, and turning sometimes to the right hand, and sometimes to the left, to avoid the flames and fall of Trees, they came at last to the place where Mazares and Myrsiles had drawn up their Troops, not taking any care for him, because they imagined that he was returned unto the entrance of the Wood, as soon as he was assured of the passage: But he was no sooner with them, than they understood from the mouth of his Prisoner what Miracles he had done, and how generous he was in saving his life. However the better to merit the Commendations which his Prisoner had given him, he caused him to be set on horseback behind Ortalgues who had orders to carry him unto the Fort of Sauromates, to see him dressed, and to have a great care of him: Afterwards this great Prince left Mazares and Myrsiles to bring all the Troops through the passage, whilst he himself went beyond the Wood, and drew them up into Battaglia as they passed, lest Aripithis or Ariantes should come charge them in disorder. And to act with as much Prudence as Courage he did not disfurnish that Quarter which was near the other passage, but guarded that which he had already passed, that he might make use of it upon all occasions.  
In the mean time, he had no reason to fear his being assaulted; for the firing of the Wood and the noise of Cyrus his passage had put the Enemy into such a terrible dismay, as they were not in any condition to make any attempts; so that within two hours after the Sun was up, Cyrus was gotten on the other side of the Wood in the head of his Army, drawn all up into regular Battaglia, with the loss of a very inconsiderable number of men.   
The end of the first Book.   

ARTAMENES, OR, THE GRAND CYRUS. THE TENTH AND LAST PART. AND SECOND BOOK.  
AS Fortune is pleased to entail happy Events upon some, and Miseries after misery upon others, after her own Capricious humour; So Cyrus had not only the advantage to pass his Army, but he had also the joys to know that Ciaxares had sent him a very considerable body both of Horse and Foot; and he understood also that Tigranes and Spitridates would arrive within three days at the Town where the Princess Onesile and the Princess Aramenta Quartered, and by consequence to have two of the most valiant men in the world in his Army. But whilst he had these Consolations, Thomyris who was come unto her troops which were not far off from the Vanguard of Cyrus, was in a most incredible despair, when she saw the Army of an Enemy whom she could not choose but love, and when she saw it had passed those straits which she hoped to have kept until all the rest of her Forces were come up which she expected, so as never thinking of defending or guarding the Passes she called back the Troops of Aripithes, and was extremely offended at him, though he was in no fault, yet she chid him as if he could have kept the Wood from being burnt; or as if he could have marched through the flames to relieve them whom Cyrus assaulted.  
In the mean time, the wood continued still burning, and Thomyris beheld the flames from off a little Hill, thinking all the Horizon that way had been circled with a girdle of fire. The truth is, the Conflagration was so great that if the wind had not ceased upon a sudden, it had not been so soon exstinguished. But at last, the Air being serene and calm the fire did not communicate itself, but as soon as those trees which were on fire were consumed, the fire extinguished of itself, so that after this, that wood which was so pleasant and delightful, was become one of the most affrighting objects in the world; for besides the great heap of cinders, and extinguished coals, which might be seen, one might behold some trees standing, but without leaves or branches, only stumps blasted though not burnt down, so as it was become a terror to the pretty birds which harboured in it, and could not faford them the branch of one tree for an umbrage. Cyrus also could see the Fort of Sauromates from his camp, and indeed the place was so altered, that it seemed not the same it was  
In the mean time, Though Cyrus had a great desire to march towards Thomyris, yet he durst not advance any further, until he had ammunition for his army, and though he was not far off from Thomyris, yet he knew he could not force her to fight, because of a little river which favoured her retreat. And indeed, Ariantes thinking it not expedient to fight until all the ●orces which Thomyris expected were joined, he set some troops to defend the Ford over that river, and retired himself near the Tents Royal, entrenching himself so advantageously, that it was very dangerous to assault him: After which they held a counsel of war, wherein it was resolved, to hazard a battle, as soon as those forces which they expected were arrived.  
On the other side, Thomyris and Ariantes were like to fall out again, for that Queen seeing that Mandana's guards were more affectionate unto Ariantes then unto her, she intended to change them; to the end, that if she lost the battle, yet she might have that Princess in her power, and to make use of her, either for her revenge or for her safety. But since Ariantes was no less afraid that Mandana should fall under the power of Thomyris, then under the power of Cyrus, he did so earnestly oppose her design of changing him who commanded Mandana's guard, that she durst not persist in her resolution, in a time when the least division in her army might make them easily overcome.  
However, since she ●ent several orders to hasten up the troops, they made such haste, that they came unto the general Rendezvouz, before Cyrus was in a condition to advance, and arrived without any danger, for being beyond the ●ents Royal, Cyrus could not hinder them from joining But this great Prince was so extremely impatient of fight, that as soon as all things necessary for the subsistence of his army were ready, he marched toward the Enemy, who for a time disputed the passage over the river, but at last they left it, and Cyrus causing immediately, many bridges to be made with faggots and planks, for the passage of his Infantry, he got over all his army in a day and a half, and put them into battle array. But as he was just ready to march, the wise and virtuous Anacharsis came unto him who seeing things at the very last extremity beseeched Cyrus to let him go and feel the pulse of Thomyris once more: For Sir (said he unto him) I conceive that Mandana will be in more danger if she loo●e the battle, then if you lost it. Could you persuade me of that (replied Cyrus) I think that I should suffer myself to be overcome. However it be Sir (replied Anacharsis) I conceive ●hat to make the gods propicious unto you it is requisite that you take such a course as that you may not be accused of all the blood which will be spilt in this battle, which you are going to fight, and therefore I beg of you three days to try what my last endeavours can do: I must confess wise Anacharsis (replied Cyrus I cannot choose but wonder you should have any hopes that Thomyris will 〈…〉 g her mind: But since I cannot deny such a man as you I am contented you should ●ee Thomyris, though I conceive it is against my honour to talk of any peace, after such advantages as I have gotten. On the contrary Sir (replied Anacharsis) Conquerors may make propositions of peace with honour it is only the conquered who can demand it with shame, nor would I go unto this Queen as an En●oy from you Sir, but only as a bare Mediator, and as a man who seriously considers the loss of so many brave men, as must needs be lost in the battle; so passing for no more than a Mediator, between you and Thomyris, you may both of you deny what I shall propound if you have a mind, but however I will never be upbraided with neglecting any thing that may stop the effusion of so much innocent blood as needs must be spilt, be the War never so just After this Cyrus being unwilling to deny Anacharsis who said he would not retard his design above three days, he told him that he consented unto it; And commanding a Herald to conduct him, this wise Scythian went unto Thomyris. As soon as he came unto the first of her Troops he was stopped and that Princess being immediately advertised of his Arrival, she imagined that this virtuous Scythian was come more at the instance of Cyrus then his own, so as flattering up herself in a false grounded hope, she commanded he should be very civilly used and brought unto her.  
In the mean time, Anacharsis knowing that things difficult are never brought to pass at first, he resolved to behave himself so as that Queen might imagine that he did not tell her all he had in commission to impart, to the end that still hoping for more she might not suddenly send him away as she was wont, but might give him time to tell her all his reasons, and might let him speak with Ariantes also: And indeed this Sage Scythian carried himself with so much Prudence that Thomyris did hearken unto him very plausibly, and he tempered her spirit, that he wanted but a little of persuading her, that if she would set Mandana at liberty she might hope Cyrus would change his mind; yet he spoke nothing which might positively be so interpreted; but telling her in general, she could never be happy as long as she was unjust; Her prepossessed imagination did so deceive her, that she demanded a Truce the second time: So that Anacharsis returning unto Cyrus, and coming back again unto Thomyris. A Truce was concluded for five days before any of either side knew why it was made, or upon what they would treat. However, made it was, and all well meaning persons about Thomyris and Ariantes were busier than ever to inspire their thoughts with more just resentments then those which love gave them. As for Cyrus there was no question but he would yield unto peace with Thomyris, provided she would restore Mandana.  
But whilst all these useless Negotiations were transacting, Spitridates and Tigranes came unto the Town where Onesile and the Queen of Pontus were; And Fortune at last as averse as she had been, unto Araminta and Spitridates permitted them the joys of seeing each other again: yet the interview of these four persons had some sadness mixed with their satisfactions; for it was impossible for them to meet without remembrance of the King of Pontus his death, and of that of Phraartes, and that with thoughts suitable to the cruelty of their F●tes. But the Princess Onesile did so manage the matter that their joys were above their sorrows. After they had talked along time in Onesiles Chamber, Araminta going unto her own, Spitridates waited upon her, and had private conference with that Princess, whom he had never seen, since he caused her to get out of Cabira whether Artanus had carried her and from whence she intended to go into Armenia, where she thought the King of Pontus her brother was: He not being able to express his joys at the sight of that fair, virtuous, and charming Princess, after so many misfortunes he made his complaints unto her in a most passionate manner. I see, Madam (said he unto her) that miseries are inseparable from Spitridates, since I am extremely grieved that my words are not able to express my joys that I have the honour once more to see you I assure you, Sir (replied Araminta most obligingly, that to imagine your joys, I need only measure them by my own Ah, Madam (said Spitridates) as obliging as your Language is, yet I am sure it is unjust; for it is not possible you should he so glad to see me again, a● I am to see you, and to have the liberty of telling you all the Torments that I have endured: you have had one Sir, (answered she and half smiled) which I advise you not to remember me of, for after so many reasons of commending you, I have no mind to complain against you I understand you very well Madam (said he unto her) you would know all the Torments which the unfortunate Spitridates hath endured when he was a Wanderer, a Fugitive, a Prisoner wounded and absent; but you would not hear of the Torments which he endured when he was so b 〈…〉 d as to be jealous: And yet he hath been more miserable by reason of his jealousy then by all the rest of his misfortunes: But, Madam, since it is your pleasure to have it so, I will submit, and will not excuse my weakness, but ask a pardon for it, and will undergo any punishment you shall please to inflict.  
Afterwards these two illustrious persons calling unto memory all the adventures which had befallen them from their Infancy until now, they found the number of them so great, that they admired how they were able to endure them, and they had seen so great an example of giddy Fortune's inconstancy, as they durst not assure themselves of any long continuance of the happiness which they then enjoyed; yet upon second thoughts they believed that since they had now met together, there could not any fortunes befall them worse than before: So as confirming that innocent affection which they had formerly promised, it may very well be said that the knot was faster tied than ever before. Spitridates not knowing that Cyrus treated Araminta as Queen of Pontus since the death of her Brother, he spoke unto her as acknowledging her so, although her Father was in possession of that Kingdom which gave her that Title; and indeed he behaved himself like a Prince who was worthy to resemble Cyrus, and who indeed did resemble him as near in the Qualities of his Soul, as in the Features of his Face. On the other side, the particular discourse between Tygranes and Onesile was with as much tender, solid, and sincere affection, as could possibly be found in two persons who loved most dear: For Tigranes had not renounced all the Civilities and respects of a Lover, though he was the husband of the admirable Onesile: The fair Telagene had also a share in the joys of these two illustrious Persons; and the wise Hesionide was so glad to see Spitridates again, that Araminta herself could not be more.  
In the mean time, since Spitridates and Tigranes understood that there was a Treaty in agitation, they made no such haste in going unto Cyrus: But Onesile conceiving that if the Army of this Prince should move further off, Araminta and she should hear seldomer from those who were so dear unto them, she propounded unto the Queen of Pontus, to go unto the Fort of Sauromates of which Cyrus was Master, and there wait the Success of the War: Araminta liking the motion, they propounded it afterwards unto Tigranes and Spitridates, who not thinking of any danger unto the Princesses in that place, and finding it very convenient for them if the War continued, they thanked them for their intentions, and prepared to wait upon them thither; and so they departed the next morning: But to the end they might be received unto the Fort without any stop, Tigranes sent to acquaint Cyrus with the intentions of the Queen of Pontus and the Princess Onesile, so as that Prince being very glad of the news, he gave all necessary orders for their fit reception into that Fort, preparing himself to make a visit unto these Princesses, since the Treaty would permit him, and since it was not above four hours riding between his Camp & the Fort; and he was so quick in his business, that Tigranes and Spitridates intending to come unto the Camp, were not set out of the Fort when he arrived; so as being much ashamed they should be thus prevented, they went to meet him, and assured him that had they not thought he had been busy about the Treaty, they would not have stayed so long before they had kissed his hand. I come not hither, Sirs, (answered that Prince) to receive excuses for a business which desires none, but only to participate of your joys which you have both given and receiv●d to and from the most excellent Princesses in the world. Afterwards Cyrus asked them why they stayed so long in the Port where they landed, and they told him that at first, it was to put themselves into an equipage fit for coming into the Army, and that afterwards they stayed there a while, to know whether the great reports of a Rebellion in Bythinia were true or no, but hearing no certainty of it came at last to the place where love and honour did invite them.  
After this Cyrus and Spitridates making a short repetition of both their misfortunes, Cyrus most obligingly told that Prince how he was very glad that he did not resemble him in one thing. It is so glorious, Sir, to resemble you in all (replied Spitridates) that I wonder you should say so: Doubtless you will agree with me (said Cyrus) as soon as I have told you that you have great reason to be well satisfied in being no further off the Princess you love as I am off her whom I adore, but that you may be no longer from her (said he most sweetly) let me carry you unto her, and so Cyrus went unto the Chamber of that Princess with whom was Onesile: The sight of this Prince did so surprise Araminta, that she could not choose but blush in remembrance of that unjust Jealousy which Spitridates apprehended; yet since she knew him to be perfectly cured, she presently recollected herself, and the conversation was that day very agreeable.  
The Prince Indathersis, Atergatis, Silamus, Mnesepherses, and Chersias, did wait upon Cyrus this little journey, so as it was impossible that so many excellent wits should be together, and their discourse not be infinitely pleasing. Spitridates and Intaphernes embraced each other by the orders of Cyrus, and so did Atergatis and Spitridates, from whom that Prince understood that it was they, who had delivered Araminta.  
But Cyrus intending to dine at the Fort, after he had made his first visit unto the Princesses, he would make a second unto the King of Hyrcania, who was brought thither after he had received his wounds in the last battle; afterwards he would go and see the valiant Sauromate also, whose life he had saved after he had vanquished him, by carrying him out of the flames, in wh●ch he had perish 〈…〉 d, had not his generosity saved him. but in going thither, one of the Guard belonging to the Fort, brought two men unto him, who said they were sent thither. And Cyrus was very gladly surprised to see that one of them was the jealous Leontidus: Also he no sooner spied him, but he went and very kindly embraced him.  
Dear Leontidus, (said he unto him after the first compliment) I pray tell me whether I must owe my joys of seeing you, unto your jealousy, or unto my good fortune? Truly Sir (replied he) I know not well unto whom I owe the honour I have to see you, but I come hither, because the Prince Thrasibulus sent me, because my own inclination invited me, and because my bad fortune hath driven me from Alcidamie, before I have had experience of the worst kind of jealousy, and yet I think replied Cyrus, that you have had experience of all sorts that are, for you have been jealous of Policates, who was your superior, and of Hyparchus who was your inferior in all things. I think (I say) you have been jealous of a man who was your friend, and of another who was your enemy, and had trial of all sorts of jealousy under the s●n.  
There was only one kind (replied he) but since it is the mostterrible of all, I have no mind to expose myself unto it. When we are in a place more convenient (replied Cyrus) and when I have more leisure, you shall instruct me with the conclusion of your adventure, but in the Interim I pray tell me how fares the Prince Thrasibulus, and the fair Alcionide? they are both of them so happy in each other, replied Leontidus, that nothing can trouble their felicity unless the thought of your mis▪ fortunes, and of that, they are very sensibly grieved; also they both of them charged me to tell you, how sadly they think themselves concerned for you, and the Prince Thrasibulus in particular commanded me to make a tender unto you of all that is in his power, & I left him in a resolution of coming to serve you in person, if he understood from me that the war was like to last long, and to send him word how the true state of things doth stand, was his chief reason of his sending me unto you.  
After this, and after Cyrus had returned a very obliging answer, unto the kindness of Thrasibulus he thought upon his design of visiting that valiant Sauromate, whose life he had saved: So as Leontidus followed him with the other who was with him, whom he presented unto Cyrus as his friend, whose name was Democedes, and they were witness of the discourse between this generous Conqueror and this brave prisoner, and they took greater delight in it, because it was in Greek, their natural language. As for Cyrus, it was no wonder to them, he should speak it, as well as his own but they were extremely astonished to hear a Sauromate speak Greek and they could not choose but express their admiration unto one another. Cyrus' half hearing them, and half guessing what they said, he told that valiant Prisoner who still kept his bed; that he was much honoured in being commended by Grecians, and such as were the most accomplished men in all Greece; for I contidus is such a one of my own knowledge, and Democedes in being his friend must needs be the like. If Democedes had no other advantage then in being my friend (replied Leontidus) he would have gotten that great opinion which is due unto his merit; But Sir, when I shall have acquainted you that he is the intimate and particular friend of Saph●, and that he is brother unto the dearest friend of that famous Lesbian, I believe you will think the commendations which he gives, are of a far greater value than mine. How said Cyrus, is Democedes the friend of Saph●, and brother unto the fair Cydnon, whom I saw at Mytilene: yes Sir, (replied Democedes) I am the brother of Cydnon, and the friend of Sappho, who h 〈…〉 d a thousand times of the Illustrious Artamenes. For you know Sir, that when you ●anded at Lesbos, you went under that name. I beseech you do me the favour (replied Cyrus) to tell me in what condition that illustrious person is? Sir, (replied Democedes) I cannot well tell, for I come into Scythia to see if I can hear any news of her: If you only desire to know how she does (replied the prisoner) I am able to shorten your journey, for it is not long since I saw her, you do both of you so much surprise me, (replied that Prince) as I cannot tell what I should think: For Democedes, says he, came into Scythia to see Sappho, and at Sauromates, says he) I, saw her not long since, and if the last of these be true, (said Democedes,) I should be very glad of it. and if what you say be true, replied Cyrus, I should think it very strange: For how could Sappho leave her own country, and come unto one so far distant? The adventure of that admirable Lady is so extraordinary (replied he) as nothing can be stranger; yet her life is not filled with such great events, as commonly happen unto persons of a higher fortune than she is of. But for all that, there is something so singular and particular in her fate, as that it may very well be said, such things have happened unto Sappho, as never happened unto any: Happen what will (replied that valiant Sauromate, whose name was Mezontes, I am able to tell you of some things which you cannot know without me.  
Cyrus was extremely desirous to know what both of them knew, but since he was afraid of making the Queen of Pontus and the Princess Onesile stay over long, he left Democedes with Mereontes, conjuring him to tell at better leisure, what he had heard and knew concerning Sappho; after which he went unto the Princesses. Onesile who was giving an excellent judgement upon a question in dispute, the Princess Araminta to commend her said, that she did not think that the famous Sappho who was so talked of over all the world, could judge better upon verses, than she could do of every thing, so this giving Cyrus an occasion to speak of her, he told them all that he heard of that illustrious person, and commended her so highly, that they were confident she did merit that reputation which she had: So as much desiring to know her adventures, they beseeched Cyrus, that he would entreat Democides to relate them; so as coming with Leontidus and many others into Arimintaes' chamber, presently after dinner, Cyrus acquainted him with the curiosity of the Princesses, and desired him to give them that satisfaction. yet since there is a necessity of my returning to the Camp, (continued he) I must needs ask you whether the relation will be long and whether it will be told in the compass of two hours? Sir, (replied he) one may if he please, Epitomise the largest history into that time, and I will engage myself Sappho's shall be no longer, though there be many long discourses which I ought not to omit if you desire these Princesses should very well know the life of this excellent person. Since time is so precious said Araminta, let us not lose it; but to the end this story may be better heard, let us go into my closet, So Araminta, Onesile, Cyrus, Telagenes, Spitridates, and Indithyrses, went into a little Tent, which she used as a closet, and all the rest stayed with Intaphernes, and Atergatis, and Tygranes, who discoursing upon this conflagration which helped the army of Cyrus unto an easy passage, they never thought of following them.  
However, these six persons were no sooner in a place with Democedes, but Cyrus entreated him to begin his relation; but I beseech you (said he) since these Princesses do not know Sappho, only by reports, tell them exactly who she is, before you acquaint them with her adventures; for doubtless nothing doth more attract the spirits of those who are to hear the history, than to make them well acquainted with the person whom it concerns. The commands you impose upon me Sir, replied Democedes, are very hard to be obeyed; for it is not so easy a matter to draw the picture of the heart, and mind; and all the inclinations of a person, as it is to draw the picture of her face, since there is requisite a certain spirit of discernment, which does know to find out a difference between things semblable, and things real, and without which, one cannot make a true resemblance: He ought to know how to distinguish all the several degrees of melancholy, and mirth, and not content himself to say in general, that such a one is serious, or such a one is merry, as many men do; for certainly there are a thousand petty observations to be made, which make a great difference in tempers which seem not opposite, yet that it is which makes the resemblance true: For as all women, who have great, grey, and sweet eyes, do not resemble one another, so there are a million of persons of whom the same things may also be said, which yet do not resemble one another, neither in their minds nor faces, and therefore as I said before, it is requisite to have the art of putting a difference, between the melanchollick and the serious, and between the diverting and the merry, when one will draw such a picture as requires neither pencils nor colours, I perceive by what you say (replied Onesile) that when you have showed us the picture of Sappho, I shall know her better than I do myself. Though I have the advantage to know that admirable Lady, (replied Cyrus) yet I am confident that you will know her better by Democides than I do.  
To spend no time in commending the painter, who must draw this fine piece, (said Spitridates) I beseech you oblige him to begin his work. Araminta seconding Spitridates, Democedes began his relation, addressing his speech unto the Queen of Pontus,  

THE HISTORY OF SAPPHO.  
SINCE it is very natural for every one to commend such things in which themselves have interests, I think Madam, it will plead my excuse, if in commending the admirable Sappho, I also commend her country, because it is my own; and if in observing unto you all the advantages of her birth, I tell you, that she was born in one of the most delectable places in the world. The very truth is Madam, The Isle of Lesbos is both so pleasant, and so fertile, as the Egean sea hath none comparable unto it: This Isle is big enough in some places to make one think it is joined to the Continent, but it is none of those which are so mountainous as they seem to be, only a huge mass of rocks in the midst of the sea: Nor is it like some of those which having no rising ground in them, seem always exposed unto fury of the waves, which environ them: But on the contrary, the Isle of Lesbos, can boast of all the varieties which any great kingdom joined to the continent, can produce. For towards the East, it hath mountains and great woods, and towards the West, meadows and pleasant plains. The air there is pure and healthy, the goodness of the ground produceth plenty: commerce is great and free, and the Continent so near towards Phrygia, that in two hours one may when they please see a foreign Court. Moreover, Mytilene the Metropolis, is so excellently well built, and hath two such goodly ports, that strangers admire them, and find much delight in staying there.  
This Madam, is the place of Sapho's birth, The wise Pittacus is the Prince of it, and attracts an infinite number of accomplished men. He had a son called Tysander, a man the most rarely qualified in the world, and who did contribute much to the pleasure of the place, yet since it is long since he died, I shall speak no more of him, though he was one of Sappho's Adorers.  
Now Madam, after I have acquainted you with the place of her birth, I will say something of her quality, she was the daughter of a man of note, called Scamandogenes of so noble a race, that no family in Mytilene could show a longer or more unquestionable pedigree: Sappho again had the advantage to be the daughter unto a Father and Mother, who were persons of great spirits and virtue, but she was so unfortunate as to lose them so soon, as she received from them only her first inclinations unto goodness, for she was but six years of age when they died, 'tis true, they left her under the tuition of a Cousin, who had all requisite qualities for the education of a young person, and they left her an estate much below her meant, yet enough, not to stand in need unto any; nay more, to appear very decent and handsomely in the wo●ld.  
Yet she had a brother called Charaxes, who was left very rich: For Scamandrogines when he died, divided his Estate very inequally, and left much more unto his son then his daughter, though, to say truth, he did not deserve it, and though she deserved a Crown. Indeed Madam, I do not think all Greece ever had a person so comparable unto Sappho, yet I shall not now relate unto you any passages of her infancy: for she was so very little while a Child, that at twelve years of age, she was spoken of as a person whose beauty, spirit, and judgement were already ●pe, and made all the world to wonder: only thus much let me tell you, that never was in any found, inclinations more noble, nor a greater aptness to learn any thing she desired to know.  
However, though Sappho was charming even from her very Cradle, yet I will draw you the picture of her person and mind, only as she is at this present, to the end you may the better know her.  
Give me leave to tell you then Madam, that though you here speak of Sappho as the most charming person of all Greece, yet you must not imagine her to be one of those, in whom Enure cannot find a fault: But yet you must know, that though she be none of those which I speak of, yet she is able to inspire greater passions than the greatest beauty of the Earth: And though she says she is very low, when she would detract from herself, yet she is of a reasonable stature: but so noble, and so well made as possibly can be desired. As for her Complexion, it is none of the highest Lustre, yet so well, as none can say but that she is very fair: But her eyes are so unexpressably lovely, so fine, so sweet, so qu●ck, so amorous, and so sprightly, as the lustre of them strikes to the very heart of those she looks upon: The truth is, they sparkle like fire, and yet have such a passionate sweetness, as shows that Vivacity and Languer are not things incompatible in the eyes of Sappho: That which made their greatest lustre was, that there never was a greater opposition than was between the black and white of her eyes, and yet this great opposition did not cause any harshness to appear in them: but there was such an amorous kind of spirit which did sweeten them in such a charming manner, as I do not believe there was ever any person, whose looks were more dreadful. Moreover, she had many things which are seldom found together: For her physiognomic was both subtle and modest, and yet she had a kind of grandeur and haughtiness in her Garb and Air: Her face was oval, her mouth little and red, an ●her hands so admirable, as if they were made to take hearts; o● if you knew how dearly she loved the Muses, you would say they were worthy to gather the fairest flowers of Parnassus. But Madam, these are not they which make Sappho most amiable: For the charms of her wit do infinitely transcend those of her beauty: And indeed it is of so vast an extent, as it may most truly be said, that what she understands not; cannot be reached by any other: And she is so wonderfully apt to learn any thing, that she hath made it her own, before you would think she began to learn  
First, she had naturally an inclination to composeverse; and she has so happily improved herself, as none whoever excels her: And she hath invented such singular measures, as hesiod and Homer were ignorant of; and have found such an approbation in the world, as they that bear the name of the inventor unto this day and are called Saphiques.  
She wrote also most admirably in Prose, and there was an amorous Character upon all the works of this rare Lady, that she moved and softened the hearts of all such as read what she writ. I have seen her compose a Song upon a sudden, which was a thousand times more moving then the mourning Elegy could b●●and her wit had such an amorous way with it; as none other besides herself ever had. She expressed herself in such things as were most difficult, most delicately: And she knew so well how to read an Anatomy Lectur upon an amorous heart (fit be lawful to say ●o) that she could make an exact description of all its jealousies, all its inquietudes, all its impatiencies, all its joys, all its disgusts, its murmurs, its despairs, its hopes, its fears, its revotls, and all the tumultuous imaginations of it.  
Moreover, the most admirable Sappho did not only know what belonged to matters of Love, but also much better what belonged to matters of generosity: Indeed she knew so perfectly how both to write and speak of every thing, that there was nothing which did not come within the compass of her knowledge; and yet one would not imagine it a knowledge infused: for Sappho had seen all that was worthy of sight, and took much pains to be instructed in all that was worthy of curiosity.  
Moreover she played upon the Lute, and sung passing well, she danced with an excellent grace, and would divert herself and others most admirably in a harmless Rallary; and which was most admirable in her: This person who was so knowing in so many several things knew them without the least spark of ostentation or pride, and without scorning those who knew them not; her discourse is so natural, so free, so easy, and so gallant, as one should never hear her talk in general Company, but of such things as a person of a good wit might talk of without having studied for what she knew: Not but that knowing men might see that Nature alone could not arrive at that height she did; but it was because she was so careful to keep herself within the Sphere of her own Sex, as she almost never spoke of any thing but such as was within the compass of a Lady's knowledge, and it was to her very singular good friends, that she would impart the depth of her knowledge unto: yet it must not be imagined that Sappho affected any gross kind of ignorance in her Conversation: But on the contrary, she was full of witty and pleasant conceits.  
Moreover, she could speak so singularly well, both unto things serious, and things gallant and Airy; as it was admired one person should have talents so opposite. But what is most worthy of commendations in Sappho is, that in the whole world there was not a Person fuller of goodness than she; nor more generous, nor more officious, nor less interested. Again, her friendship was full of fidelity: her soul was so tender, and her heart so passionate, that questionless, it was asupream felicity to be the friend of Sappho: for she had such an ingenious spirit, and such a witty way of inventing new means to oblige those whom she esteemed, and to: make them know her affection, that though she seemed not to do any extraordinary thing, yet she persuaded them that she loved them dear: she was absolutely incapable of envy: And she would do Justice unto any merit, with so much generosity, that she took greater delight in commending others, then in being commended. Besides all this, she was full of complacency, which without the least dram of baseness in it, was infinitely agreeable: and if she at any time denied her friends, she did it with so much civility and sweetness, that she obliged them by her denial: and imagine, I pray, how she would oblige them if she should grant them her friendship and confidence. This Madam, is the composition of the rare Sappho, whose Brother is fraught with inclinations far different from those of his admired Sister: Not but that Charaxes hath some qualities which are good, but with all, he hath many bad ones.  
He had courage indeed out it was a bestial courage, such as makes a Dog more valiant than a Deer, and not such a generous valour as is requisite in a complete man. But Madam, this rare woman being so accomplished as I have described her, she made so great a rumour in Mylitene, notwithstanding all her modesty, and care to conceal her knowledge that fame carried her name throughout all Greece, and that so gloriously, that until then, never any of her sex had so great a reputation.  
The greatest wits of the world were greedy of her Verses, and all Greece preserved them with care and admiration, yet she did impart them with so much difficulty, and seemed to value them so little, that it augmented her glory▪ Moreover, one could never know what times she took to make them, for she was a daily visitor of her friends, and one should hardly ever see her either read or write: and she was so good a disposer of her time, that she had some ●●r herself, and some for her friends. Moreover, she was such an absolute Mistress of her own mind, that what care● soever were in her soul, they never appeared in her eyes, unless it was her mind they should. But Madam, I have not said enough yet of the most admirable Sappho; for I must furt ere tell you to the end you may the better perceive her judgement, that there were some Persons whom she honoured with her Amity. And amongst the rest there were four who had the principal shares in her diversions: The first was called Amithone: The second Erinne: the third Athys, and the fourth Cydnon my sister.  
However, though ●t be not handsome to commend such as are near allied unto us, wi●h he same sincerity and applause as others, yet to the glory of Sappho, I shall speak of them all very advantageously. For since Cydnon was her first friend, it is but just I should justify her choice.  
And to begin the description of these four, give me leave to tell you, that Amithone, was a very big woman, of a very advantageous stature, and a goodly presence; who though not rarely fair, yet she attracted looks, and pleased infinitely: her hamour was sweet and agreeable, she spoke most elegantly, and without any learning but what she gleaned from the discourse of Sappho, and such accomplished men as talked with her, she understood things of most deep and difficult knowledge. And the great natural parts which the gods had given her, together with the society of learned people, enabled her to speak with much judgement.  
As for Erinne, it was otherwise with her, for her wit and ingenuity was all cultivated with abundance of care: so as though her natural endowments were not so great as those of Amithone, yet Art had so supplied the deficiency of Nature, that her company was infinitely charming. Her fancy would not reach so high as Amithones, yet she would compose good verse; and if the modesty of Sappho may be credited, they are to be preferred before hers.  
As for the fair Athys, it may well be said, that she had all the goodness of the other two: for she had naturally abundance of wit and did polish it by many noble sciences, and the conversation of all the accomplished men in Mytilene. Sappho also had inspired her with that Air of modesty which rendered her so charming, insomuch as she could not endure any should tell her, that she knew any thing more than other Ladies did: nor would she ever confess that she knew any thing, but by the guide only of common sense, and the usage of the World. Her Person was infinitely charming: Her stature good, her Hair flaxen ●o light, that it may well be termed fair: The wh●le proportion of her face was infinitely agreeable: her mouth was a wonder: her nose well proportioned, he● eyes sparkling, her Air modest, and her humour sweet.  
However though these three Ladies were most admirable, yet Cydnon was more loved by Sappho, than they all three. And further than this Madam. I know not how to give you my own Sister's Picture: and yet I think it is allowable to commend her though only in justification of Sappho's choice, and therefore let me tell you, that all those who use to speak of her beauty, do report her fair and handsome, though she be little and brown, but since it is not by the handsomeness of her Person, that she got the amity of Sappho, I will speak more of her humour and wit, then of her beauty. Be pleased to know then, that Cydnon is naturally merry, gay, sweet, obsequious and complaisant: she has a certain spirit of expedition which makes her never find any difficulty, in doing any thing for her friends. Doubtless, she was knowing enough in all excellent Sciences, and versed herself in such things as most suited with the humour of Sappho. The mirth of Cydnon, is not excessive, nor at all given to Rallary, unless it be in a most innocent manner.  
These four Persons, dwelling near Sappho, they were so often together, that they were inseparable. Not but that they visited other Ladies also, but not with such Assiduity as they did her: And the union betwixt them was so great, that none used to invite any one of them unto any feast unless they invited all.  
You may imagine Madam, that these Ladies were followed and courted by all the Gallants of the time, which I assure you were no small number, especially when the Prince Tisander the son of Pittacus was in love with Sappho, Since this Prince was her first conquest, I know not whether I shall keep within my prescribed compass, and be a little longer in my story than I resolved, yet I shall not stand to make any exact description of his merit: for since he is dead, that will but serve to move pity for his sad fate, only let me tell you thus much, that he was a man who merited the esteem of the Illustrious Cyrus, and his sorrows for him also after death. Tisander then, being a most rarely accomplished man, and in the prime of his youth, there was a great meeting at Mytilene about the marriage of Amithone, who married a man hugely rich, and who for certain reasons of state was much looked upon by Pittacus: who honouring the Feast with his presence, and with the Prince his Son. Tisander then spoke unto the fair Sappho the first time. But his wonder was to find her so sad, though at a Wedding, and the Bride her friend. So that taking occasion at that lovely melancholy which appeared in her eyes to begin acquaintance with her: Perhaps you may think me very bold lovely Sappho (said he unto her) for beginning my discourse with you, as if you had as great a confidence in me as I wish you had, yet I cannot choose but ask you, why you are more serious this day, than I have used to see you in the Temple, where sometimes I had the honour to meet you, for truly, having a long time desired the happiness to speak unto you, I shall now be exceeding glad to know whether I ought to pity you for any misfortune which hath fallen unto you, to the end I may at the first beginning of our acquaintance, render you some testimony of affection by my sensibility of whatsoever concerns you. Your language Sir is so obliging, replied Sappho, that it deserves I should acquaint you with the cause of my sadness, which perhaps you will find so slight, that you will not be much troubled to be a sharer in it, for truly Sir (said she and smiled) I must acquaint you that I never was at any marriage festival without melancholy, and my mind is so very irregular, that I cannot rejoice at the happiness of Amithone though she be one of my dearest friends, and though I am as sensible a person as any is in the world of any joys which happen unto those I love. Doubtless Madam, replied Tysander, than you do not look upon marriage as a happiness. The truth is Sir, (replied Sappho) I look upon it as a slavery. Then Madam (replied Tysander) do you look upon all men, as Tyrants? I do look upon them (replied she) as men that may be so, as soon as they become husbands. This Imagination comes always into my mind when I am at any marriage, and I am sure, that a melancholy will cease upon me, by reason of that little interest which I have in the happiness of that person who is to be married. I am extremely afraid Madam, replied Tyfander that this your hatred of marriage in particular, should proceed from your hatred of all men in general, and yet, believe me, you would be very unjust, if you should advance your own sex so much above ours. The truth is (continued he) if there were many such women as yourself, you had some reason for it, nay if there were only two or three such in the whole world, I should consent unto it. But lovely Sappho (pursued he) since you are the only one in the whole world, who hath found out the Art, to unite all the virtue and all the good qualities of both sexes, in one single person: I beseech you content yourself to be esteemed or envied by all women, and so to be adored by all men without hating them in general.  
Since I cannot be unjust (replied she) I know very well, that I ought not to assume unto myself any share in those Praises which you give me, and I know that there are many men so excellently accomplished, as they deserve all my esteem and may obtain some share in my friendship: But as soon as ever I look upon them as Husbands, than I do look upon them as Masters, Masters so apt to become Tyrants, as I cannot choose but at that time to hate them, and to thank the Gods, that they have not given me any great inclination unto that fatal thing, which they call marriage. But, Madam (replied Tisander) when some happy and rarely accomplished man should move your heart, perhaps than you will change your mind. I cannot tell, Sir (replied she) whether I shall change my mind or no; but I am sure, that I had rather even lose my wits then ever lose my liberty; and I am fully resolved never to make my Slave my Tyrant. I am so far from conceiving (replied Tisander) that there can be any one in the world who dares be so bold as to cease obeying you, that I am confident none dare command you. For how can it be imagined that a most admirable Lady who is knowing in all things; Nay, I beseech you. Sir (said Sappho and modestly interrupted him) do not speak thus, for I know so very little, that I know not whether I have any reason for what I say. As soon as she had said so, one call away Tisander about some business, he was forced to leave Sappho, but he left his heart with that fair One, nor was this love long concealed; for Tisander being young, and of a quality which attracted many eyes upon him, every one did presently perceive his love unto Sappho, for he went unto her the next day after the marriage of Aminothe and was obsequious and Courtly to her, as there was no doubt but that he was in love with that most admirable Lady. At that time all manner of Pleasures were in their highest Lustre at Mytilene, and every day had its fresh diversions.  
In the mean time, Tisanders' Fate being not to get the love of Sappho, and her Fancy could not comply that way, she only esteemed him; and acknowledged the favour of his affection, but could not follow the counsels of her brother who advised her to sacrifice her liberty unto Fortune by answering the love of that Prince. But Sappho naturally hating Marriage, and not affecting Tisander, she would by no means consent unto it, though she were sure she might marry him with the consent of Pittacus. However, since he was still in hopes to win her affection, He courted her with a thousand Entertainments, and filled the Town full of Diversions, insomuch as the little Court was so full of Gallantry as none could be more. Indeed the admirable Sappho had inspired such a spirit of politenes into all that conversed with her, which also did communicate itself unto those who never saw her, as it was a wonder that it should not spread itself through all the Town of Mytilene, and also throughout all the Isle of Lesbos, but it did not; for Envy, Ignorance, and Malignity kept almost half the Town from being benefited by the Conversation of Sappho and her friends. But to say truly she was no loser by not seeing these kind of people, unto whom the Grandeur of her spirit and wit was a terror. Few strangers ever came to Lesbos, who went not immediately unto the admired Sappho, and who went not out charmed with her discourse? And certainly they had reason, for it was impossible for any to talk two hours with her without a high esteem of her, and without a great inclination to love her. Also there was a knot of five or six of us men who were inseparable, and who always waited upon Tisander when he went unto Sappho, and who sometimes went unto her without him, when her severity made him so melancholy, that he would not go.  
In the mean time, the ignorant and envious Cabal which was opposite unto ours, did talk of us in such pleasant manner, as I cannot think upon it without a little wonder: For they said, we never talked of any thing at Sappho but Poetry Philosophy, and mysterious questions, and I think they said, that we taught Magic there also. The truth is, these professed Enemies unto all Wit, Sense, Reason, and Virtue are a most dangerous sort of People; for I found that the most rational amongst all those who shunned Sappho and her friends were a sort of young fine, sturdy, and merry Fellows who made it their brag, that they were no Scholars, and whose ignorant vanity made them so bold as to cen●ure and judge of what they knew not, and who were persuaded that men of parts and wit did nothing but talk of things which they understood not: Thus did they talk of these Persons whom they shunned with much care, and made such extravagant Tales of them, as were most ridiculous unto such as were in their Senses. But besides this generation of people who are capable only of a Vapory and disordered kind of Jollity, there was also a sort of women which I rank together with them who eat the company of Sappho and her friends and who are also full of their own frothy Rallary: Truth is, they are a sort of women who think it their duty to know nothing unless that they are fair, and how to dress themselves; Women I say, who never talk of any thing but Fashions, whose Gallantry consists in eating the Collations which their Gallants bestow upon them, and whose discourse is nothing but most egregious folly.  
There was also another generation of Women, who thinking that exact Virtue requires a Lady should know no more than how to be wife unto her Husband, Mother unto her Children, and Mistress of her Family, they think Sappho, and her friends spend too much time in Conversation, and that they ought not to discourse so much upon things which are not of absolute necessity.  
There are also some of these men who look upon their wives as the chief Servant in the house, who forbid their Children to read any books but Prayer-books, and who will not allow them upon any terms to sing one of Sapho's songs.  
Again, there was some both men and women who shunned us, and who, without Injustice cannot be counted amongst the dull herd of beastly people, since they are persons of quality. And indeed, there were some men of ingenious parts, being prepossessed with a false imagination, who believed our way of living was such, as these ignorant men reported; and who not endeavouring to un-deceive themselves, rested in their error. Truth is, there was one thing which did much contribute unto their implicit belief: For Madam, be pleased to know, that there was a woman in Mytilene, who having seen Sappho when she was very young, she took up a fancy to imitate her, and she thought that she did imitate her so well, that changing her lodging, she pretended to be the Sappho of her quarter.  
But the truth was, she imitated so scurvily, that never were two persons more n nlike. You may be pleased to remember Madam, how I told you, that Sappho, though she was admirably knowing in all things, yet she would not make a show of it, and that her discourse was natural, easy, free, and gallant. But alas, it was quite contrary with this Lady, whose name was Damophile, for all her pretended imitation of Sappho.  
But to make a description of her, and to let you see the difference between these two persons, be pleased to know, that Damophile taking a toy in her head to imitate Sappho, she did not attempt to imitate her in every particular, but only in being as knowing as she was, & thinking she had found out a most mysterious way of getting more reputation than she had, she did all that the other did not. First, She had always about her, five or six several masters, the least learned of all which, I think did read Astrology unto her, she was continually writing Letters unto such men as made profession of profound learning, and knowledge: She scorned to cast an eye upon an illiterate person; fifteen or twenty books were always upon her Table, and when any came into her chamber, one of them was always in her hand, and I am most certain she had many more books in her closet than ever she looked into, and she read more than ever Sappho had. Moreover, Damophile was all fustian and big words, which she pronounced with a grave and imperious tone, though she spoke but of a trifle, whereas Sappho on the contrary, lapped up the most sublime learning in the lowest language.  
Moreover, Damophile not thinking that knowledge and learning was compatible with Oconimick affairs, she never meddled with any family affairs, but Sappho she looked into every thing, even of the meanest consequence: Again, Damophile did not only speak in the stile of books, but she would be always talking of books themselves, and cited Authors in her common talk, as fast as if she were a professor in some famous University. But the rarest passage of all was, that she was suspected to have promised a very favourable ear unto an ill favoured fellow, who had expressed some kind of tender affection to her, upon condition, that he would compose a copy of verses, and let her pass for the Author of them, to the end she might resemble Sappho, she sought all manner of opportunities of publishing what she knew, and even tired people with a relation of her learning, so as I assure you, that as there is nothing more taking and charming than a woman whose mind is furnished with excellent knowledge when she knows how to use it; so there is nothing so ridiculous nor troublesome, than a woman that is foolishly learned.  
Damophile, being then such a one as I have described, she was a cause why those people who shunned Sappho and her friends, did imagine that our conversation was like unto that Damophile, who was said to imitate Sappho, so as a thousand odd reports were divulged concerning us, at which we laughed when we heard of them, thinking ourselves very happy, that the opinion which these men had of our society, did keep them from troubling us by their presence. As for Tysander, since he was in love, he had much ado to endure these foolish reports; but punished two or three of these wicked scoffers at wit, and handled them sharply that they were forced to quit the Court.  
But Madam, To insist no longer upon the love of that Prince, I will only tell you, that after he had tried always possible to win the heart of Sappho, the Prince Thrasibulus his friend came unto Mytilene, after he had lost his Dominions & all his fleet, having nothing left in the world but only two ships. Yet that Prince having a great and resolute soul, after he had been a while at Mytilene, was very desirous to see the admirable Sappho, whom he esteemed very highly.  
But Madam, Since Tysanders' love is not the principal subject of Sapho●s history. I will not insist any longer upon it; but to tell you, that she could not love him, and that he was in such a desperate condition, that he resolved to embark with the Prince Thrasibulus when he went from Lesbos, and try if absence could cure him, but he did not depart before he bade adieu unto the admirable Sappho.  
Since my sister did know all her secrets, and since she imparted all unto me after his departure from Lesbos, I understood all the passages between them, and how this adieu was taken with the finest discourse that ever was. For Sappho carried herself so ingenuously, that she persuaded Lysander she was nothing to blame in not answering his affection, and that she had taken almost as much pains in forcing her heart to affect him, as he had to win her affection: Insomuch as he parted from Sappho without complaining against her, though he parted from her the most sad soul that ever breathed.  
When he was gone from Mytelene, he left a man behind him whose name was Alces, a man of a subtle wit, who also had a notable faculty in Verse, with orders to speak of him as oft as he could unto the most admirable Sappho, and in his absence to give him an exact account of all passages, to the end he might return if occasions required. To say truth, he could never have chosen a man more assidiously diligent, than he was with the fair Sappho: For he being in love with the charming Athys who was continually with her, it was an easy matter for him to be a faithful spy unto Tisander; and the fitter for that purpose, because Alces had a nimble and witty boy, and one that was a notable prier into privacies.  
In the mean time, Sappho only esteeming Tisander, his absence was no hindrance unto her Diversions, and our society was within a few days as jocund as ever it was, and more, for the discontents of Tisander did sometimes make it melancholy. Then were we a knot of five or six of us, who had nothing else to do, but to see Sappho every day: Not but that we made many other visits; but to tell you truly they were short ones, and we always returned betimes, to the end we might meet at Sappho's, where Amithone, Erinne, Athys, and Cydnon always were. When the weather was fair, we went to take the Air, either upon the Sea, or by the Sea side: And when the weather would not permit us, we stayed at the house of the admirable Sappho, which was as pleasant a seat as was in the world, for her Chamber, her outer Chamber, and her Closet were upon one floor, and looked towards the Sea.  
However, to tell you the very truth, few men ever looked upon Sappho, but they loved her, or at least esteemed her above the degree of a friend: And though Alces was in Love with the fair Athys, yet I have 〈…〉 ard him confess, that the esteem he had of Sappho was of a higher nature then that he had of me, though he loved me exceeding well: but certainly there is a kind of subtle and penetrating fire in the eyes of Sappho, which at least heats, if not burns all hearts.  
Moreover, it must not be imagined that our society was full of Ceremony, for it was all natural and full of freedom: and if there was any constraint, it was in that we had a continual desire to commend Sappho, but durst not, because it was offensive to her. Sometimes we should mutiny against her, because she would neither give us, nor show us any of her verses, but were put to a thousand devices before we could obtain them.  
For my particular, I had the advantage of all the rest; for since she trusted my sister, I saw the excellent works of the admirable Sappho by her means: And I did so admire the rarities which she showed me, and the freeness of her illustrious friend from all manner of vanity, as I thought it a thing impossible to overesteem the most admirable Sappho. For Cydnon showed me Eulogies, Songs, Epigrams, and a thousand other pieces of rare wit, so as I could nor choose but wonder that a woman's capacity could possibly reach the height of them; for her verse was so true, her expressions so even, her fancy so noble, and passions so tender, as to think them incomparable was the least I could do. However, this excellent woman whose knowledge was superlative in all things, was more modest than those who knew nothing: And an accident one day chanced which did plainly evidence the truth of this unto all those who were together in a place where Sappho and Damophile met.  
But Madam, the better to acquaint you with the accident, I must tell you, that there was in Mitilene a most rare comfort of Music which the whole Town used to go and hear at a Lady of qualities house, whether Sappho and all her company went, with the rest of the Ladies: It was an Assembly where the gates were open to all, where acquaintance was not requisite, and where one might see a hundred persons whom they never saw before, nor perhaps ever should see again, and where all sorts of company resorted: Chance had so contrived it, that Sappho sat next Damophile, so that until the Music began, she was constrained to hold discourse with her, and with those about her. Damophile never being without two or three half witted persons about her, such as make themselves more able then really they are, Sappho was most terribly perplexed, for she stood in fear of none more than that sort of people: and certainly it was not without reason that she feared them that day: For she was no sooner set, but one of Damophiles friends put a Grammatical question unto her. Unto which Sappho negligently answered; and turning her head the other way, said, that since she never learned to speak but only by custom, she could not give him any answer.  
As soon as she had said so, Damophile told her in a low voice with intolerable impudence, that he would consult with her upon a doubt concerning a verse in hesiod, which she did not well understand. I assure you (replied Sappho very modestly and smiled) you would do much better to consult with some body else; for I never use to consult with any but my Mirror to know what worst becomes me, and therefore I am far unfit to consult upon difficult questions. As soon as she had said so, one came from the other other end of the Room very hastily, and asked whether it was she who made the songs which were going to be sung▪ I assure you (said she, and blushed for anger) that I have done nothing this day but weary myself with vexing; for I am so impatient till the Music begin, that I never wished for any thing in my life more earnestly.  
For my part Madam (said one of Damophiles friends) I had much rather hear one of your ingenuous Epigrams than all the Music: As Sappho was ready to answer unto this, another came with a paper in his hand, and desired her she would be pleased to read that 〈…〉 logie, and give her opinion of it: So as since she had much rather read the verses of another, then to hear others talk of hers in such an odd manner, she began to read them to herself, or at least seemed to do so; for she was so vexed at her place, as that she could not judge of verses though she had attempted it. But that which caused the greatest distraction, was to hear both men and women behind her, talking of her wit, of her verses, and of her learning, showing her unto others, and every one shooting a fools bolt according to their fancies: One said she did not look like a learned person, others said that she knew more than she would speak: and one man amongst the rest said, that he would not have his Wife so wise as she was: and a woman wished that she had but ha●f her knowledge, so as every one according to their inclinations commended her, or discommended her, whilst she seemed to be intent upon the paper of verses.  
In the mean while, Damophile talked with two or three of her half-witted Companions and spoke such thundering words, which signified nothing, that they being at last desirous to hear two such opposite persons as Sappho and Damophile talk together, I was the first who desired her whether she would or no to give back the Elegy unto him who gave it unto her, purposely to force her unto this Conference. And indeed Sappho being glad to see me so near her, because she hoped then to ●a●k unto none but me, she restored the Elegy unto him who made it, unto whom she said that she had not wit enough to judge, and therefore durst not commend him.  
After which, turning herself towards me; well Democedes (said she unto me in a low voice) Though I was very unhappy in sitting so near Damophile and her friends, yet I am very glad you came to my relief: Nay, nay Madam (said I unto her and laughed) I came not hither to that end; for in my opinion it concerns your honour to talk, to the end the wo●ld may know that you use not to talk like unto Damophile: And indeed, after this I intruded into the company of Damophile and those she talked unto; addressing my speech always unto Sappho, as angry as she was.  
In the mean time, there was one man amongst those that were with Damophile, who indeed spoke very well, and began to talk of harmony, and of the nature of Love very eloquently. But Madam it was admirable to see the difference between Sappho and Damophile, for the last of these never left interrupting him who spoke, and making impertinent objections, which she understood not herself, nor could any else make any sense of them. As for Sappho, she never spoke but when a question did absolutely require an answer from her: And though she always said she understood not the thing in discourse, yet she spoke as one who understood better than some that would undertake to teach: And for all her modesty and vexation, and maugre the simplicity of her expressions, it was apparent she understood all things, and that Damophile understood nothing. The last of these, in speaking much, said little; and the other in speaking almost nothing, yet spoke enough to make herself admired. At last the Music begun; and as soon as it was ended, Sappho did rise up in all haste; and pretending some earnest business, she removed from Damophile, who no● being willing to let her go before she had given her some other fresh disgust, she told her, that doubtless her business was to finish a Song which was yet in her Chamber unperfected: Sappho understood very well what Damophile said, but she would not trouble herself so far as to answer. On the contrary, she took me by the hand, and went on the other side of the room where Amithone, Erinne, and Cydnon were placed.  
They were no sooner met, but she pressed them very earnestly to be gone, and indeed forced them to go sooner than otherwise they would: I pray Madam (said Cydnon, seeing her blush and all in disorder) what accident hath happened which make● you desire to be gone so hastily? When we are all in my Chamber (said she) I will tell you; for I must have a little time to recollect myself, after my adventure: however (said Amithone unto me) I pray tell us what hath happened unto Sappho, for you were with her? For my part (said Athyes, and gave me no time to answer) I cannot devise what it should be: Perhaps replied Erinne, that Democide doth know no more than you do● Pardon me, replied I, for I do know, but I will not know, unless the fair Sappho be pleased to give me leave to impart it. I would not only have Amithone, Erinne, and Cydnon know it (replied she) but I would have all the world also know (if it were possible) how I do hate Damophile and all her friends, and how sorry I am to find so many fools in the world.  
Sappho expressed herself in such a pretty chief, that she made me laugh: and as we were thus discoursing, Alces (who I told you was a man who passed for a good wit in Mytelene, and who was so) came unto us with another man of good note named Nicanor: And they came to Sapho's gate, where also we met a Lady called Philire who entered also. As soon as we were entered into the Chamber, and set, all the Ladies asked me what the matter was: when Sappho heard this question asked me, she turned towards them: No no (said she, it is not Democedes which can tell you what I vex at: For there is none who knows it but myself: I beseech you tell us then, said Nicanor, who was a well-accomplished man, and who had none of those faul●s which most young men of his quality use to have. The thing you ask (replied Sappho) is not so easy to be told as you imagine: But since I must tell you, it is that I am so weary of being thought a wit, and of passing for a Scholar, as I begin to make it my chief felicity neither to read, nor write, nor speak; and if it were a thing possible to forget them, I protest I would begin this very hour to be dumb, and would forget to read and write, and speak as long as I lived: So weary am I of the foolishness in people, and of the persecution which inseparately is upon such as have a reputation of more w●t or knowledge, then how to curl their hair, and make choice of their Ribbons.  
Sappho spoke this in such a lovely fret, and with such a sprightly air, that her handsome anger did cause more love, more liking, and more amity in the souls of all her Auditors But I beseech you (said Cydnon) tell us a little more precisely what's the cause of all this? How is it possible (replied she) that you should see me sit so long, so near Damophile and her pack of quarter witted persons, and not pity me, and think that I spent my time very ill? had you been of the same side where I was (replied Phylere, and laughed) you would not have been troubled with any over wise Ladies: I assure you (replied she) I know not where I should be; for I saw about you four or five women, who making an open profession of hating every one that has any wit, and who affect such dull gross kind of ignorance, as hath vexed and wearied me, but had you been, where I was (said Nicanor) you had found better entertainment, and more complacency; for there were none but such men about me as would have highly commended you, happily they might (replied she) but perhaps not after my mode; for Nicanor, most men of your quality do so little know how to speak unto such a one as I am, that they do●anger me when they think to oblige me: And except these who are present with me, I know very few who have spoken any thing which hath pleased me, and yet there are some here also who have sometimes vexed me; at least I have reason to complain that they will not acquaint every one, how I desire to be treated. As for Alces (added she) I am sure he knows my mind better than all the rest of the company. 'tis true, (said he and laughed) that this profession of wit is very troublesome.  
How can it be troublesome (replied) Phylire?) and what hurt can that reputation which Sappho hath over all the world, do unto her? has she not great reason to rejoice, that all the wits of Athens, Corinth, Lacede●●on, Thebes, Argos, Delphos, and in all Greece, should talk of her with admiration? As for such men as know me not (replied Sappho) I am contented they may talk as they please; but I am very ill satisfied with most of those who daily see me, and if you please, I will make all my complaints unto you, to the end Nicanor may instruct the Court how they ought to behave themselves towards wits, and to the end Phylixe may acquaint the Ladies of her neighbourhood how to live withthose of ours, and also to the end that Amithone, Erinne, Athys, and Cydnon may not accuse me of being fantastical in my complaints.  
Therefore to speak unto the point in general, I must tell you once more, that there is nothing more troublesome than to have a good wit, and to be treated accordingly; if one have any birth, and nobleness of heart: For this is an infallible Maxim, that when one gets an applause from the multitudes by the flashes of that wit, or any reputation above another by writing verses or prose, they do lose half of their nobleness, and are not like any of their family or kin if they meddle with writing any books, and indeed they will be treated after another manner, than those are, who never meddle with any writing; and it will be said, that such were destined only to please others and are obliged by a Law to be still writing piece after piece; and if they leave writing, they will be no longer regarded: If they be rich, it will hardly be believed, and if they be not, it is the worst of fortune, a poor man who is not guilty of any wit, is better used, than if he were. Yet I see (replied Nycanor) that all the Court doth very much cherish those who are addicted to writing.  
I do assure you (replied Sappho) that they are cherished after a very strange manner, for almost all young gallants use to treat those, who are addicted to writing, as they use to treat their Tailors and shoemakers. Indeed they think that they have rendered all that is due to their merit when they have cursularly commended them: For my part; they cannot do me a greater displeasure, than to talk impertinently of those verses which I writ only to please myself. I cannot endure that one should come unto me, and desire me to make an Elegy for him, another a song, and a third come and ask me whither such an Epigram was mine; I cannot endure that they should not speak unto me, as they do unto others, since I desire to be as others are, and cannot be distinguished after so odd a manner: They do not speak unto me as they use unto others if they would make an excuse for not seeing me, they tell me it was because they were afraid to interrupt my study, if at any time they accuse me of being too reserved, they tell me that I am never well but when I am by myself, if I say my head aches, they tell me it is the disease of all good wits: Nay my Physician when I complain of any little pain, he must be telling me also that the same temper which causeth my good wit, causeth my disease. The truth is, Verses, Wit, and Knowledge, are such troubles unto me, that I begin to look upon Ignorance, and stupidity as the only happiness.  
The truth is, replied Alces, the fair Sappho hath great reason for her complaints: and were it not for the satisfaction which her writing does give unto herself, she had never used her pen, though never so learnedly, for my part I have seen many Courts in the world and I have observed most horrible Injustice done unto all writers, Every Grandee desires to be commended but they receive the incense which is offered, unto them as a tribute due, without any regard unto the hand which offered: For my particular I once presented a poem unto a Prince, who took it and liked it, but never did so much as ask to see me; yet to tell you truly, Considering how he used me, I took heart and loved the Author, better than I did the Prince: And my mind better satisfied in having a heart more genuine than his, then if fortune had set me as much above him as he was above me. Oh! my dear Alces (replied Sappho) how infinitely do you joy me? for nothing gives me greater satisfaction than that I am able to tell myself, my soul is more noble than those, whom giddy fortune has set above me. But for all this I cannot choose but oftentimes be very sensible of those disgusts which my reputation of wit doth cause unto me, for I observe both men and women when they talk unto me are much perplexed because they have a fancy, that they must not speak unto me as they do unto others, and they are so persuaded, that I constrain myself in speaking unto them, that they constrain themselves also to go beyond their last, insomuch as I wish that I could Vn-Sapho myself; and if my heart could be seen, it would manifest, that nothing could more vex me than to take me for a witty and understanding woman. And therefore I conjure all the company, to ease me of this persecution, by publishing to all the world, that I am not as I am taken to be, but that it is Alces who composed those verses which pass under my name, and that I have nothing in me which is worthy of esteem; to the end all sorts may let me alone in quietness, without either seeking for me, or shunning me: For I must confess, I would neither be courted, or shunned as a woman of wit.  
As soon as she had said so, much company▪ came in, who caused the discourse to change,; but as for Sappho, she spoke very little all that day (as my sister told me) for I went out as the company increased, because I heard of the arrival of two of my old friends, who had been long abroad in Travels. But, Madam, since one of them whose name is Phaon, hath a great share in the History which I am relating, It is requisite I speak of him a little more particularly then of the other who was called Thimistogenes, yet I must acquaint you that they were both of them Lesbians, that were practised in one exercise together, and that during ou● first years I did equally love them, & yet at their return me-thought I had lost the one, though I saw them both: And to explain this Riddle, be pleased to know that when Phaon and Thimistogenes departed I loved the last of these a little better than the first, because indeed he was then more amiable both in his humour and in his Person: But at their return I found a very great alteration, for the one was grown very ill-favoured, and the other much more handsome; the wit of Thimistogenes was not at all improved, but Phaon was so mended, that I assure you he much excelled him, and few men could be found more amiable than he: As for his Person, doubtless it was incomparable, for he was extraordinary fair, but such a fairness as does not resemble the beauty of Ladies, though he had all the good deportments of his own Sex, and all the beauty of others, his stature was tall and noble though not of the highest pitch, his hair very brown, his eyes black and lovely, his cheeks plump, his Teeth white, his Nose even proportioned, and his Air haughty; moreover for a man, he had most fair hands, a sprightly look, a promising Physiognomy, and I know not what kind of passionatness in his aspect without any affection which spoke him very apt to become a most complete Gallant. Indeed, Madam, Phaon is so fair and every way so handsome, that the people of Lesbos invented the oddest Fable of him in the world: Foyes he being the Son of a man in great reputation at Mytilene who had commanded Navies in several Was: The dull people say, that when he was very young and playing in a little Boat near one of his Father's Ships Venus came to him, and desired him to carry a message for her in that Boat unto a certain ●sl●●d: And in recompense of his Service she made him so fair as he was. Thus without any other ground for this Fable (unless because Phaon contrary to custom of men was not so fair when he was a Child as since he became a man) all the people of Lesbos do believe this Fable, as really as if it were a very truth. But, Madam as Phaon is amiable in his Person, so is he also in his humour and spirit, for he is very civil sweet and affable, and without too much mirth, or too much melancholy, he is all that is imaginable to please: besides this, his Air is natural easy and agreeable, he speaks well, and home to the purpose: moreover he had a natural inclination of Gallantry, and there was such a sutableness between his Person, his Humour, and his W●t, as one would say, they were made for one another. As for Thimistogenes he did not at all resemble him, not that he was very ill favoured, but because he did not please, and because his Air was forced and constrained: Nor was it that he is without any wit at all, but because that wit he has is wrong biased, and he was very seldom in the right, but is so accustomed to be in the wrong, that one may be almost assured to choose well if they only take that which he chooseth not; And he is very much addicted to love all excellencies, and to Court accomplished men, though it is beyond his reach to know them.  
These two men whom I have described had long traveled together without any great affection, or without much Society together: for as soon as they came into any Town their inclinations parted them, and that which pleased the one did never please the other. Thus they wree together upon the highways, but never in any other place; According to this their custom, as soon as they arrived at Mytilene, they severed, so as I also sought them severally, but could not find them; for as I sought them they were seeing others, insomuch that it was the next morning before I saw them: But as soon as I found the difference between Thimistogenes and Phaon, I changed also as they had done, for I loved Phaon better than I did Thimistogenes: However, since I was not the first whom they had met with in Mytilene I found them already informed of the great beauty in Sappho, yet not by men who knew how to commend her according to her Merit: For they had only told them that she was a great Wit, and understanding Person, and one that had a most admirable faculty in composing Verses. But the wonder was, that though the same Character was given unto them both, yet it produced several effects, for Thimistogenes out of the curiosity to see all Excellences, was extremely impatient of seeing Sappho. And Phaon on the contrary who had seen Damophile the night before as she came from the Music house had no desire at all to be acquainted with Sappho, and indeed he was so far from desiring it, when I spoke unto him and offered to carry him thither, that he refused the Visit, in lieu of desiring it.  
But Thimistogenes was so eager, that he was extremely importunate with me to carry him unto Sappho, though I would not, because I found him unworthy of her acquaintance: And I was as importunate with Phaon to see her, though he would not, out of a conceit he had that it was a thing almost impossible for a woman to be learned and not ridiculous, or at least not troublesome: Also the little experience with Phaon had in matters of Love, had suffered an error to grow in his mind (which was quickly rooted out,) That it was better to be in love with a fair fool than a woman of a great wit: So as one day when I had pressed him to go and see Sappho, and he obstinately had refused, I was very angry with him for not giving credit unto what I told him; For (said I unto him) what reason can you give me, why you will not see Sappho? First, (said he unto me) they say that Damophile is a Coop●e of Sappho. Secondly, I profess, that if she be, it is impossible the Original should ever please me, for I have found Damophile such a ridiculous piece of foll●, that I would run from Country to Country rather than meet with her whom she resembles. Oh most unjust friend, (said I unto him) did you but know what wrong you have done unto the most admirable Sappho you would abhor your injustice, and repent of the injury done unto me in accusing me of ignorance in true merit: I accuse you not (said he unto me) but friend you know every one has a several gust, and a several fancy: and for my part I desire only the sight of such Ladies as will divert me, and not teach me, for I am most terribly afraid of such as swell themselves into big words, for small matters; such as are always upon the top of Parnassus, and never talk unto men, but in the language of gods: And if you will needs have me discover the secret of my soul unto you, I must confess, that in Sicily I was in love with a fair fool; and I will not run the hazard of being in love with a fair wit, who perhaps will make me despair. Therefore I conjure you to trouble me no more; For if Sappho be such a one as I do imagine her, she will make me most horribly hate her: And if she be such a one as you say she is, perhaps I shall love her too well to keep myself in quietness. But is it possible (said I unto him) that you could fall in love with a fool; The truth is (replied he and laughed) I was not in love with a fool but I must confess, that there was such a fair fool whom I did not hate.  
I perceive then (said I unto him) that one may love beauty wheresoever it is, though in a fair woman without any wit, but I cannot imagine one should love her person be she never so fair: Also I perceive you do not know all the delicate delights of rough passion, since you never loved any but a fair fool: I know not whether I knew all the delights, replied Phaon) but I am sure that I know all the torments: Alas my dear friend, (said I unto him) you are but a Novice in love, for none are ever happy in it, unless they be first miserable. Those do not deserve the sweet which will not taste the bitter; a thing must be desired with inquietude before it can be enjoyed with delight: and before one can know all the sweets of love he must love a woman that hath wit. For my part (continued I) I love a fair Picture which cannot talk foolishly, better than a fair woman, who tattles and commits a thousand impertinencies. As we were thus talking, Themistogenes came in, whose mind being opposite unto Phaons', he entreated me to carry him unto Sappho, telling me he had a very earnest desire to see her: and adding, that in all likelihood he should fall in love with her, if he found her such a beauty as he imagined. If so sir (said I purposely to prevent him) I must not carry you thither, for you would be extremely miserable if you should become a lover of a person, who has so many others. Thus I not being able to persuade Phaon, and Themistogenes not being able to persuade me, we parted, but I wondered when after dinner being at Sappho's, she should tell me that Nicanor and Phylire who had seen Phaon, did give him such a noble Character, as though it was not her use to affect fresh acquaintance yet she could not choose but desire his. The very truth is Madam, (replied I) Phaon is a person, of very extraordinary merit, since he is your intimate friend (replied she) I shall hope he will come and visit Cydnon, and so happily I shall see him at her Chamber.  
I believe Madam, (replied I) that he would see you at your own house before any other place, did he not stand in fear of you: Alas Democedes (said she unto me) why should any friend of yours stand in fear of me; but to be plain with you, I shall think you have infused a bad opinion of me into him, if he do not come and see me, you may imagine Madam how this expression of Sappho's perplexed me, knowing the mind of Phaon as I did; but I engaged myself to bring him unto Sappho, and accordingly I went very seriously unto Phaon, and desired him to make this visit for my sake, if not for Sappho; but I had much ado to persuade him, yet being afraid to fall out with me, he yielded: but told me withal, that I must take this Complacency as a great argument of his friendship, and afterwards promised me to go the next day with me unto Sappho: But that which most troubled me was, that I durst not carry him unless I carry Themistogenes also, because he would be very angry with me if I had not; so that to carry a very pleasing man unto her, I was constrained to carry a very ill Companion also. I advertised Sappho of this intended visit, and she acquainted all her dear friends with it, so that Amithone, Erinne, Athys, and Cydon were all with her, when Phaon, Themistogenes and I came thither, Sappho being one of the most pleasing Persons in the world at the first sight, and the most obliging when she pleased; she received us extremely kindly, and in such a gallant manner, that I saw very well Phaon was much surprised, and that he did not expect to find her Air so free, so amiable, and so natural.  
As for Themistogenes, I observed that he was astonished as well as Phaon, but it was in a different manner, yet being both of them prepossessed with an opinion of Sappho knowledge, and conceiving they ought to speak in an Elevated stile, they begun their discourse in a grave, serious, and very solemn Tone. And though I told Phaon there needed no such setting off himself in Print, yet he did not believe me; so that thinking he ought to commend her as a Person extraordinary, and in the highest Phrases, he began his Encomium with a very eloquent Exordium. But Sappho stopping his Oration, and turning towards me, I profess Democides (said she) I have great reason to complain against you: Against me Madam (replied I with astonishment) Yes (replied she) against you; for since Phaon does not know me, it were injustice to complain against him: and therefore I do positively accuse you for all these applauds which he bestows upon me; for had you acquainted him that I do not affect any Commendations, I believe him to be a more accomplished man then to turn his Complacency into, such flatteries as cannot choose but displease me. I assure you Madam, replied I, I advised him not to offend the modesty of your humour: Then 'tis apparent he does not know me (replied Sappho) But Phaon (continued she and turned towards him) since I do not love to be beholding unto Fame, I shall take it as a very singular favour if you would judge of me only by your own knowledge: Let time and experience give you the knowledge of me: For it would be very unjust in you to judge of me upon the reports of others. Madam (replied Phaon, and smiled) I do admire your Modesty, and that's all I dare say; for to acknowledge that you merit more commendations than Fame doth give you, is to tell you that you merit more than ever any did. Can fame give you better report (added Themistogenes, thinking to hit the nail upon the head) then that a Lady can make better verses than ever Homer did? and that she is wiser than all the seven Sages of Greece? However Sir (said Sappho) I cannot endure that any should tell me of any such things; and the greatest injury my friends can do me, is to think that I love to be commended: For since I know that I am not wise, I cannot endure to be told that I am: and though I were so, yet surely I should hate flattery: I cannot deny but that I have made some foolish verses; but Poetry being only an effect of a natural inclination, as music is, I ought to be no more commended for making verses, then for singing.  
After this, Sappho turning the discourse upon some other subject very ingeniously, she was extreme careful to talk of nothing that might smell of too much wisdom: but on the contrary, she passed away all the afternoon in a pleasant Rallary with her friends, twitting them with a thousand petty passages concerning their Caballa, which yet were so intelligible, that Phaon and Themistogenes did take as much delight in them as those did who were acquainted with the passages.  
Afterwards Alces and Nicanor coming in, Sappho began to chide the first of them for a custom which he had, and which he always used when occasion presented itself. For Madam, be pleased to know, that Alces had such a fancy of a fair woman, that he could not endure those who were not so, and he would always be sure to change place whensoever Chance had set him near any ill-favoured person: So it happened, when he was in Sapho's Chamber, that a Woman came in, who indeed was very ugly; he according to his humour went out, and went so abruptly, that the woman plainly saw, that he went out purposely to shun her. Sappho being desirous to turn discourse another way, began after a gallant manner, to condemn his niceness, and in his person to blame most young Gallants of the time whose Custom was to do the like: Truly Madam (said Alces unto her) I had not gone out at that time from your Chamber, but because I desired to go unto the fair Athys, and I do protest not upon any other reason: I pray Alces, replied Athys, make not your visit unto me your excuse, for you came not to me that day: Then I went unto Amithones (added he) no replied that fair one, for both Erinne, Cydnon, and myself did see you out of the window of my Chamber walking about two hours with a friend of yours, who is one of the ugliest men that ever any eye beheld, and who questionless is more ugly than the Lady who you shunned. I profess it is very strange (replied Sappho) you should have such irregular thoughts: and I would gladly know why you should more tolerate an ugly man than an ugly Woman: and why you should shun an ugly Woman as much as you would the Plague: This is an injury unto our Sex, and as if Women were made for no other use then Colours are, to please the eye. This Alces, is most unjust; for if you love that only which is fair, and hate that which is foul, why have you not fair friends, as well as fair Mistresses? and why are you not as careful to shun ugly Men as ugly Women? Women as well as Men that are ill favoured, may have a thousand charms of wit, and a thousand beauties of soul, and therefore why more hated? Yet I see most young Gallants are guilty of this injustice: yes there are some men who are extremely ugly themselves, yet cannot endure a Woman so: They desire the fairest eyes should look favourably upon them, and yet they will look upon none but fair Women with the ugliest eyes under the Sun. I know one who looks upon himself in a glass, as if he were the handsomest of all men living: and though he can look upon his own deformities with delight, yet he cannot with any patience endure the deformities of others: You express your thoughts Madam so excellently, replied Phaon, that I believe Alces with all his wit will have much ado to answer you. I assure you (replied Alces) that I had rather acknowledge a fault in me, then go about to justify myself, since I cannot do it, unless I should speak many things against Ladies in general. You express yourself with so much malignity (replied Amithone) that you deserve (as a punishment for shunning such women as are not fair) all fair ones should avoid meeting with you.  
Provided one fair one will not fly me (replied he, looking upon Athys) I should not much grieve if all the rest did. Though I were fair (replied Erinne) yet I should be none of those who would give any comfort unto you: And since 〈◊〉 am not (added Athys, and blushed) I have nothing to do but to comfort myself that I am not in the number of those who can comfort Alces: For he is so nice, that he cannot endure those (who like me) are neither fair nor ugly. This is so unjust (replied Alces) as I wonder that the fair Sappho who useth to be just unto merit, can endure it. The reason is, replied she, because it belongs not unto me to commend the beauty of Athys in your presence: For since you have such tender and delicate eyes as cannot look upon any ugliness in women, I am persuaded they are also judicious enough to know true beauty, and that you can commend her better than any other. However (continued she) I would gladly know, whether Phaon and Themistogenes be as nice as Alces is: As for Nicanor and Democides, I know they have some friends who are none of the fairest. For my part Madam (replied Phaon) though I am a great adorer of beauty, yet I should think it a great wrong unto Ladies, if I should look upon it as the only advantage of their sex: And I can assure you, I am so far from the opinion of Alces, that I am persuaded it is not a thing impossible to be in love with a woman who hath no beauty at all, provided she be not extremely ugly: For there are women who have such rare beauties of mind, and such engaging graces in their humours, that they may infinitely please, and be very amiable. For my part (said Themistogenes) I should much better love a woman who is knowing in all high and excellent things, though she were not handsome, than I should an ignorant fair one. For aught I see (replied Sappho and laughed) I can never be loved either by Alces, or by Themistogenes: For I am not fair as the first would have his Mistress, nor am I knowing, as Themistogenes desires his to be: and therefore it is my best course to make Nicanor, Phaon, and Democedes my friends: But if in seeking to make them your friends (replied Cydnon, and smiled) you should find a Lover of any of them, what would you say then? Doubtless I should say, replied she, that I have found more than ever I did, or more than I do desire.  
As Nicanor, Phaon, and I were ready to reply, Cynegira entered into her Chamber, whose presence made our discourse to change, and Nicanor, Phaon, Themystogenes and I went presently out. Yet Madam, since there was a very pleasant Plain before Sapho's Lodging, we walked there: And after one turn, Phaon began to speak in a low voice unto me, because he would not have Nicanor know his opinion of Sappho. Ah dear friend (said he unto me) what an Enemy had I been unto myself, had I not seen the most admired Sappho? Well (said I unto him) have you found her over-wise? does she much resemble Damophile? was there any necessity of talking concerning high matters as you imagined you should? For my part (said he) I am so charmed with the sight of her, that I cannot think any one in the world comparably so amiable: For she is so sweet, so sociable, and so gallant, as I find her all superlative; and when I consider how this excellent Woman who is versed in the most sublime knowledge, did divert her self so pleasingly in trivial things, I begin to fear I shall fall in Love with her, if I should continue seeing her: and yet I think it is impossible for me to forbear. I thought you would change your opinion of her (said I unto him) as soon as you saw her: But I would gladly know (said he) whether she be always so amiable as she was this day; and whether she have no tincture of that pride, which is almost inseparable from such as have any extraordinary parts? Tell me friend, does she always speak with so little aflectation or sharpness as she did now?  
All I can say unto you is, replied I, that she is sometimes as much above what you saw her now, as you found her now above what you expected: Oh Democedes, replied he, it is not possible: The fair Sappho cannot, no it is most impossible she should appear more amiable than she did this day.  
After this, Nicanor began to talk with Phaon, and Themistogenes began to address his speech unto me very faintly: I must confess unto you (said he unto me) I have been much astonished this afternoon: Why (said I) are you not pleased with the sight of Sappho? So little, replied he, that were I not persuaded she concealed her knowledge because there was many Women in the company, I should lay aside the high opinion which I had conceived of her: For truly I heard her not speak any thing this day which any other Lady did not know as well as she, & might speak as well. Yet you must confess (replied I coldly) that though she did speak like a Lady, yet it was like a Lady who spoke very well.  
I must needs confess, said he, that she used no barbarous words; but to tell you truly, I expected much more from her than I found: Perhaps you expected (said I unto him) that she should have read a Philosophy Lecture, resolved some difficult questions, and explained some obscure places in hesiod and Homer? I expected at least (said he) that nothing would have come out of her mouth but high matter, w●ich should have made her knowledge appear: And for my part, I tell you ingenuously, that I am persuaded she will sometimes show her knowledge, for it is not possible she should get such a reputation over all Greece, if she talked of nothing but trifles, such as I heard her speak of this day.  
You may imagine Madam, how I wondered at the difference of opinion between Phaon and Themistogenes. In the mean time, Themistogenes spoke so loud, that Phaon confusedly heard what he said, so that being now one of the most jealous admirers of Sappho, he came unto us, and asked me of what Themistogenes talked? He told me (replied I and smiled) that he could not see how Sappho should deserve all those applauds which are attributed unto her; but that he expected from her, a thousand excellencies, which she never so much as mentioned. I perceive, (replied Phaon faintly) that the fair Sappho cannot get the esteem both of Themistogenes and me, for I do infinitely esteem her. After her discourse upon all these trifles, where with he upbraids her; but I should scarcely have esteemed her, had she only talked of such high matters as he imagined she would; so that it follows of absolute necessity, she cannot please us both: I confess it (replied Themistogenes faintly) but the difficulty is to know whether it were not more advantageous for Sappho, to satisfy me than to satisfy you. If you please to let Nicanor and Democedes be our Judges, replied Phaon, I shall consent unto it.  
Since I am altogether on your side (replied Nicanor unto Phaon) and directly against Themistogenes, I am not a competent judge: it is no wonder, said Phaon, that Themistegenes and I should differ in Opinions, for it is not above two years since, we were both of one mind, in any thing: so as it is not strange that as soon as I began to admire Sappho he should not admire her; but prefer Damophile because I prefer Sappho before all the women I ever saw: and indeed I have abundance of reason so to do, for to write as she writes, and to discourse as she doth, are two qualities so admirable, that she deserves the esteem of the world. But yet I pray tell me (replied Themistogenes in such a pelt as made us laugh) what hath she said which hath excellency in it? she spoke elegantly and gallantly (replied Phaon) and she spoke with modesty, and in such a discreet manner, as she hath merited my admiration; but not mine (replied he) for I never use to add 〈…〉 ny thing but what is extraordinary: I once knew a man at Athens (replied Phaon) who was of the same humour with Themistogenes, for he knew not how to put a difference between things which men admire, and things which make men astonished; I cannot tell you whether I am of his humour you mean, or no (replied Themistogenes very fiercely) but I am sure I cannot see any difference between Sappho and other women of Mytelene, by any discourse I heard her utter, and in the humour I am in, if she do not elevate her Muse to a higher strain than I heard her this day, I shall believe some hath made her verses and published them in her name.  
Phaon hearing Themistogenes say so, began first to laugh, and afterwards to be angry in good earnest, so as replying very sharply upon one another: they sell to quarrel: Nicanor and I should have had much ado to part them, if Alces and two more had not accidentally come in.  
However, since this quarrel could not be taken up upon the sudden, it was the next day before they were reconciled; so as it was divulged all over the Town. But Phaons' advantage was, that I related all the passage unto my sister, and she unto Sappho, insomuch as the very first day that he saw Sappho, she understood that she was obliged to him.  
This reconciliation had one Circumstance in it which was very remarkable; for Phaon would not be ●●eind● with Themistogenes, until he had acknowledged himself too blame in judging so rashly upon Sappho's merit, so as this excellent Lady hearing of all these passages did think herself very much beholden unto Phaon, and the next time she saw him, she received him very obligingly, and she no sooner saw him enter into her chamber, but she went to meet him most civility, and accosted him with such singular and gallant compliments, that it deserves a rehearsal: For looking upon him with a smiling countenance: Sir, said she unto him, you have so commended me for not talking of high matters, that I care scarcely thank you for the favour least contrary to my custom I should use any such big phrases as might purchase the esteem of Themistogenes, and lose yours.  
Your language Madam (replied he) is so full of wit and gallantry that I cannot repent of my disgust against Themistogenes, for he who does not admire you, deserves an immortal quarrel from all rational men, when you are well acquainted with me Sir, (replied Sappho) you will see that I am not so jealous of my honour: And that as long as they do not asperse my virtue and my goodness, I care not what they say.  
Afterwards Sappho, causing Phaon to sit down, the company were very pleasant, for not only all her intimate friends were there, but Phylire, Nicanor, and I were there also, And after much discourse upon the Error of Themistogenes, who thought every one to be ignorant, if they do not talk of high things, Phylire said that though gross ignorance was a most odious fault, yet she thought it better all women were so, then to be overwise, for do but imagine, said she, what a pestilent persecution it would be, if we had but two or three damosels more in Mytelene, But I beseech you imagine also on the other side replied Phaon, what a felicity it would be if there were but five or six Sappho's in the whole world, and if Athens, Delphos, Thebes, and Argos, could boast of that honour as well as Mytelene. Oh Phaon replied Sappho, and blushed) I beseech you do not lessen my Obligations by over-commending me, and remember that I do not affect it, nor would I pass for wise. For the truth is, that though I do know some things, which all women do not know, yet I am sure I know less, than all women ought to know.  
Truly Madam, (replied Cydnon and laughed) you do engage them unto a great task, and to speak sincerely, you know so much, that I cannot tell how you should conceal your knowledge from them, nor how you should infuse it into them. I am very certain (replied Sappho) that I know so very little, that if all women, would employ that time well which they employ idly, they would know a thousand times more than I do. Your expressions Madam, are so ingenious, so modest, and so noble, (replied Phaon) that though what you say as relating to yourself be not positively true, yet I cannot for my life choose but commend you: For it is most certain that most Ladies are much to blame in spending many a most precious hour, which might be much better employed than they use to do.  
For my particular (said Phylire) I cannot tell how Ladies can learn any thing though they would; for often times, I have not so much leisure as to go unto the temple, and I have a friend who is every day so long in dressing herself, that the sun is set before she can get out of her Chamber.  
I have often thought (replied Amithone) that Sappho could not afford herself so much time as to sleep and do all she did, until I went a journey with her into the Country; But since then, I have been convinced of my error, by seeing her order her time so well, that she had leisure to do a thousand things, which I could not do: for she found as much time to sleep as kept her complexion fresh, and her eyes in Luster: she had time enough to dress herself as gallantly as any did: she had also her times of reading, writing, studying, walking, and still time enough to look unto her business, and to enjoy her friends. And all this without being troubled, or being busy. I would she would teach me the secret (said the fair Athis) for could I learn it, I would strive to know more than I do. But before you oblige her to impart so great a secret (replied Erinne) I would all women here would well examine whetherit be expedient that women generally, should know more than they do. I think that Question will easily be resolved (replied Sappho) for I must confess that though I am a declared enemy unto all women who are always in their Altitudes of knowledge and wisdom, yet I cannot choose but extremely condemn the other extreme, and be ashamed to see so many women of quality so grossly ignorant, as in my opinion, they dishonour their sex. Nor know I any thing more injurious unto our sex, then that any should say a woman is not obliged to learn any thing: for if so, then would I also have her forbidden to speak, and not taught to write: for if she may write and speak, it is but reason she should use all helps to better her understanding, to inform her judgement, and to learn how to speak and write well. And seriously it is the oddest thing in the world to observe how women commonly are educated: They must not be any Gossippers nor Gallants, and yet they are taught with abundance of care every quality that belongs to gallantry, but never any thing that will fortify their virtue, or improve their wits: Dancing, singing, and playing, are parts that must not by any means be neglected, but are never instructed in any thing which may make them speak well, or carry themselves in any business with discretion: And considering how some Ladies lead their lives, one would think, that they were forbidden all reason, or wit, for they do nothing in the world but sleep, grow fat. and make themselves fair, and never do or say any thing but foolishly. And I am sure there's none in the company but knows some unto whom what I say is applicative: For my part, I do know one who useth continually to sleep above twelve hours: who spends three or four in dressing herself, or to say better in undressing herself, for she spends half the time, in undoing what she did before, afterwards she employs two or three more in her repasts and collations, and all the rest of the day is spent amongst men unto whom she knows not how to talk: Judge I beseech you, whether the life of this Lady is not well spent: I must confess, replied Alces, many Ladies, do live as you do say.  
For my part, replied Cydnon, I am not at all concerned in what she says, for since I spend my whole time in her company, I cannot be charged with any mispending it: Oh Cydnon, replied Amithone, I heartily thank you for finding out so good a reason, to make my ignorance excusable, since I have as much right unto it as you (added the fair Athys) I may make the same use of it.  
Were I as knowing as you are, (replied Erinne) I should not stand in need of any excuse: For my part, (said Phylire) I have no excuse for myself: For I have so seldom the happiness of seeing Sappho, that I cannot make it my excuse to have employed any of my time in her company. And I must ingeniously confess, that sometimes I trifle away a whole day, and yet cannot say that I had any considerable business: For my part (said Sappho,) to speak in general, the reason why women have so little time, is because they spend it idly, and make a great business of every trifle: one misplaced Curl is an hours rectification, and takes up more time, than a thing both of profit and delight would do, yet I would not have it thought (added she) that I am at all against any women's ornaments or dancing, singing or playing or such accomplishments: no, on the contrary, I allow them all delights and recreations: but to tell you truly, I would have them take as much care in dressing their minds as well as their bodies. And between being knowing and ignorant, I would have them take the middle between these two extremes, which will keep them from being troublesome, by their ignorant stupidity or impertinent audacity. I assure you, replied Amythone, this way is very hard to be found out. If any living can find it, and teach it, replied Phaon, it must be Sappho. For my particular (replied Philire) I should be infinitely obliged unto her, if she would be pleased to tell me how far a woman ought to be knowing: Doubtless it is very difficult (replied Sappho) to give a general rule for what you ask: for there are such variety and difference of spirits that no Law can be so universal, and not unjust.  
Yet I conceive this for an infallible Maxim, that though I would have women to know more then generally they do, yet I would not have them talk as if they were knowing at all I would have them give others leave and cause to say, that they know more than they will vaunt of, that they have good wits, that they can speak well, and write elegantly, but I would not have it said of them, that they are learned: Not but that those who are not called learned may know as much, and perhaps more than those unto whom they give that Title: yet I would have them conceal their knowledge and wits: Then I perceive (said Philire) That there are some things which either they must not know, or else they must not show them though they do know them. It is most certainly true, (replied Sappho) that there are some sciences which women ought never to learn, and that there are others which they may, yet they ought never to confess they know them though they may let people guess as much. But, I beseech you, unto what purpose is it for them to know such things as they must never be known to know? (replies Philire) it will help them to understand what those who are more learned than themselves do say (replied Sappho) and to speak also to the purpose, without speaking bookishly, but only as if natural ingenuity instructed them. Also there are a hundred delectable Sciences, which are not necessary to be kept secret, for they may very well speak foreign Languages, they may confess that they have read Homer, Hesiod, and the excellent works of the illustrious Aristhius, without any showing too much Scholarship: Also they may give their opinions in so modest a manner without any unbecommingnesse to their sex, as they may thereby make their wit, their knowledge and their judgement to appear. They may and aught to know, all the helps unto writing well for in my opinion, it is a most gross error, to say they would have women speak well and write ill, and the privilege of ignorance which they pretend unto is so shameful unto all their sex in general, that if they understood it they would blush. The truth is, said Nicanor. There is so little coherence in the letters of Ladies, and such odd Orthography, as if they writ them purposely not to be understood, yet those very same Ladies (said Sappho) and laughed, who commit such gross faults in their writings, and have spent all their stock of wit in the first line, they will mock a whole day together at a poor stranger, who hath only mistaken one word for another, yet it is much more strange to see a witty woman commit a hundred faults in writing her own natural Language, then to see a Sythian speak all Greek. Alas, (said Philire and laughed) how deeply am I concerned in your discourse? yet you speak so very well (replied I) as I cannot think it possible but you must write well also. I do believe (replied Sappho) that Philire writes as well as she speaks: but by your leave, there are some women who speak well and write ill, and all merely by their own negligence: I would gladly know how that comes to pass (said the fair Athis) The reason is, (replied Sappho) because most women do not care for reading, or else they do not read applicatively, but run on without any reflection upon what they read: So that though they have read the very same words which they write a thousand times over, yet they visit them wrong, and mislocating the letters they patch up confused nonsense by a custom. All this is most true, (replied Erinne) For yesterday I made a visit unto one of my friends who is newly returned out of the Country, and I carried all the Letters which she had writ unto me, that she might read them unto me.  
'tis plain therefore, replied Sappho., that I had good reason to wish women would use to read much, and to read with application: And when they are alone to make choice of some merry or serious book according to their humour, for it is most certain that reading doth sooner, and better refine wit, and inform the judgement, than conversation alone can, for truly Conversation doth only give us the first thoughts of those who speak, which often are tumultuous, and so undigested that the speakers do condemn them within a quarter of an hour after; But reading gives us the concocted Opinion of those who writ the books we read. So that though they read simply for their delight, yet it will imprint something in the mind of the Reader, which will better it, and preserve them from falling into many gross errors which ignorance would plung them unto: For my part (said Alces) I know one of those bold Ignorants, who will be talking of every thing though she know nothing, who talking the other day unto a stranger which was relating his Travels, she discovered her ignorance so far, as it appeared she thought the Caspian Sea greater than the Egean and that the Euxine Sea was beyond the Caspian. And that the Egean Sea was the least of all others. I would advise all women, replied Sappho, not to talk much of what they know well, and not to talk at all of what they know not.  
And indeed, I would have them, never to be very knowing nor very ignorant, but only to manage well those advantages which nature hath given them. I would have them (as I said before) be as careful to beautify their minds (as their Persons. But I beseech you (said Phylire) how can women find leisure to read and learn any thing? That time which Ladies lose in doing nothing, or in doing things nothing to any purpose (replied Sappho, would serve to let them know enough, to conceal their ignorance. Moreover, do not imagine, I would have any woman such a perpetual Reader as never to talk: No, (but on the contrary) I would have her read only so much as will teach her how to speak well. And would advise them to Conversation, as well as to the other, provided they never transgress the modesty of their Sex. But I wish with all my heart that women were not such sluggards as they are, and I wish that I myself may apply these Counsels unto myself which I give unto others. Madam, replied Phaon your modesty goes too far, and you need not say that of yourself which none does think. The truth is, said Nicanor, the fair Sappho is very unjust unto her own merit. She is so just unto the merit of others, (replied Athys) that it were strange she should not be so unto her own.  
Her advantage is (replied Cydnon) that every one renders her that justice which she denies herself; And though she conceals herself as much as she can, yet her excellencies are known unto all Greece: You clip the wings of Fame (replied Phaon and smiled) For I am certain that the name of Sappho is famous throughout the whole World. For Heaven's sake (said the most admirable woman interrupting him and blushing) speak not thus in my presence● for I cannot endure it should be thought I take any delight in such high Applauds, since I am most confidently persuaded (and I speak it with all the sincerity of my heart) that I do not deserve them: if that be true Madam, replied Athys, it is very strange, that you should be knowing in so many things, and yet be ignorant of your own merit: Seriously (replied Sappho) in a lovely ch●●e) unless you do unaccustome yourselves from commending me, I shall unaccustome myself from seeing you any more. Oh Madam (cried Phaon, Nicanor, Alces and I all at once. For Heaven's sake do not threaten us with any such sad affliction. But after this, Sappho continuing her discourse with her accustomed modesty, she told us a hundred pleasing stories, and knew so well how to charm the company that we parted not till night:  
At our going from Sappho house, we saw Thimistogenes leading Damophile: and the next day we heard by one of his friends, that he preferred her a thousand degrees before Sappho: So as wondering at his extravagancy we both of us promised to shun him as well as Damophile. In the mean time, I began to perceive, that Phaon in all likelihood would fall in Love with Sappho, if he were not so already. On the otherside, I understood by my Sister that Sappho did infinitely esteem him, and that he pleased her more than all the men she ever saw. Alces who was Tisanders' spy did also perceive this growing love of Phaon, and the inclination of Sappho, for he hinted as much unto the fair Athys with whom he was in Love: Nicanor who was one of Sappho's adorers, had some slight suspicion of it. And both Amithone and Erinne did perceive it as the rest did. As for Sappho, she knew that Phaon was in love with her before he ever told her; for she had such a suitable and delicate spirit of discernment into every thing, that she perfectly knew what thoughts every one had of her, and sometimes knew them before they knew themselves: As fervent as the friendship was which any bore unto this charming Lady, she would never take it under any notion of Love: And how faint and cold soever this passion was in the hearts of some men who were not capable of any zealous fires, by reason of their frozen tempers, she would never take them under the notion of Friendship: so that it is most certain, she precisely knew in what degree any one loved her: and it was so impossible to conceal it from her, that it was absolure folly to attempt it; for she could so well distinguish between the looks of friendship and the looks of Love, that she was never mistaken.  
Moreover she did not only know of what natures the affection of any was unto her: but also she knew what thoughts every one who used to visit her, had unto one another: So as this discerning knowledge of all hearts enabled her to manage matters so cunningly, that she made all Rivals live in peace, and she augmented or lessened the affection which any bore unto her, almost as she pleased. And yet this last quality had more difficulty in it then the other, for she is so very lovely, that it is a very hard matter for any Lover to go less: yet still she would so temper them, as that they would tell her no more than what she had a mind to hear.  
Sappho having such a discerning eye, she quickly saw that Phaon was in Love with her: and the sight of it did not offend her, but found such a sweet relish of it in her heart, as she plainly saw, that if she would ever defend herself against Phaon, she must begin betimes, so as she resolved to overcome herself: But she could not resolve to hinder Phaon from ioving her, and contented herself with never answering his affection by the like. However, Cydnon being her grand Confident, they held a Council together about it, which I intent to relate unto you, that you may the better know the temper of Sapho's soul.  
My sister being then with her one Evening, and both leaning upon a Balcone which opened towards the Sea, she saw by Moon light some ships coming to My●elene. I wish these be not the Ships of Thrasibulus, which bring back Tysander unto us (said she, and smiled): For that Prince being of very much merit, I wish for his own tranquillity he may not return unto a Place where he would be more miserable than when he departed: I cannot see (replied Sappho) that any great alterations have happened here since his departure: For I hold him in the same degree of esteem as I did, and my heart has the same resolutions of never loving him: if that were all, replied Cydnon, he would not be so miserable as he is like to be; but I know there is something more in it, I wonder (replied Sappho) why you should say so. Since you would needs have it (replied Cydnon) I must tell you, that Phaon is here: Cydnon you are always so full of your Quirks (replied Sappho and blushed) that I need not wonder at them. I assure you Madam, replied Cydnon, there is no Quarks in what I say; for it is so apparent Phaon is in Love with you, as it is impossible to be one hour in his company, and not perceive it: And when he is in your presence, they must be blind who do not see it, and deaf who cannot understand it by his words; for he speaks always with such cordial earnestness, that his thoughts cannot be doubted: However, replied Sappho, they do not see me answer him with the same earnestness. You Madam (replied Cydnon) do know so well how to regulate all your actions, that your thoughts can never be known by your Actions: Yet I who know you better than any others, I am most confident you do not hate Phaon, and that if Fate have resolved you must love any, it must be him: I perceive Cydnon (replied she and smiled) that you think you have stolen from me the Art of knowing the thoughts of others by bare conjectures: but I believe that you are now mistaken in your Conjectures and Predictions: 'Tis true (added she) That Phaon was very glad to find that I did resemble Damophile: and (to be sincere with you) I know he loves me, or at least hath some inclination to it: But I must profess unto you, that I have no intentions to answer his Love. For since exact decency requires one should not only defend themselves against criminal affections, but from the most innocent also, I must observe it, and not expose myself unto scandal, although I am persuaded that it is not impossible but one may love very innocently. I do believe it is not impossible (replied Cydnon): And since there are many men have honest hearts, there can be no great danger in engaging with them. It is so dangerous (said Sappho) that since I knew the world, I never knew two whom I could think capable of any compliance of such a nature as I imagine.  
But to speak unto you as unto my second self, though decency hath so established it a Law, that Women should not love any by reason of the bad consequences which Love may cause when it is in bad minds and hearts, which have only gross, brutal, and terrestrial thoughts: yet let me positively tell you, that it is unjust, and without derogation from solid virtue. I believe one may make some distinction between some men, and contract a pure affection with one whom one shall make choice of.  
And indeed, the Gods who never made any thing in vain, did not create in vain a certain inclination in our souls to love: But Cydnon, the grand difficulty is to regulate this affection, to make a good choice of him whom one would love, and to carry it so discreetly, that scandal itself cannot cavil at it: And when all is done, it is most certain that nothing is comparably so sweet as to be loved by a person whom one doth love. Doubt not but that I do condemn all the irregular extravagancies of Love, but I do not condemn the passion itself which caused it: And the truth is, those extravagancies proceed rather from the distempers of those who are in Love, then from Love itself: and it must be confessed, that they who do not know, that I know not what which redoubles all delights, and has the art of giving sweetness unto inquietude, they do not know how far joys can reach. As for those Ladies who take delight in being loved without loving again, they have no other satisfaction then what their own vanities affords them: But I do comprehend that there are a thousand sweers which are all purity and all innocency in a mutual affection. This agreeable exchange of thoughts, of secret thoughts, this communion of souls which is made between two persons who love each other, is a pleasure unutterable, unconceivable. And to jung of Love by Friendship, I assure you my dear Cydnon, that I am now more joyed in opening my heart unto you, than I should be if we were together at the most glorions Feast in the world.  
Then Madam, to taste these joys more fully (replied Cydnon) I conjure you to open your most secret thoughts unto me, and confess unto me sincerely, that if you find in Phaon all that is desirable to contract such an affection with him as you imagine, that you would have much ado to defend yourself: And to carry this cond●i●nce as far as it will go, tell me truly the nature of this affection, and in what manner you imagine it. Ah Cydnon (said she unto her) you engage me very far: Yet since I will not deny you any thing. I will answer to your question, and tell you that I am not of their minds who speak of Love, as of a thing which cannot be innocent, unless they intent to marry: For my part, I must confess unto you that the delicacy of my mind, of my fancy, and of that Idea which I conceive of this passion is such, that I do not think that kind of Matrimonial Love to be pure and noble enough; And if I found in my heart only a bare desire of marrying any one, I should blush as for a crime, upbraid myself as with a thing unworthy of myself, and should be more ashamed than other women use to be of a criminal gallantry.  
But I beseech you Madam (replied Cydnon) would you have any love you without any hopes? I would have him hope to be loved (replied she) but I would not have him hope any further; and it is the greatest folly in the world to love any one unless with intention to love for ever: but to love any other way then as I intent, is to express one's self to fall from Love unto indifferency, from indifferency to hatred, and from hatred to scorn.  
But I beseech you tell me (replied Cydnon) how you intent one should love you, and how you do intend to love? I expect (said she) that one should love me servently, that he should love none but me, and love me with all imaginable respect: I would have his love so tender and sensible, as to think the least trifle from me a delight, I would have his love to have the solidity of friendship, and ●ounded upon esteem and upon inclination. Moreover, I would have this Lover to be most faithful and sincere: yet would I have him to admit of no confident of his passion but myself, but so lock up his Love in his heart, that I may brag of being the only one who knows it: I would have him also tell me all his secrets, impart all his sorrows unto me: I would have the sight of me to be his chief felicity, and that my absence may be a most sad affliction to him: That he never mention the least syllable to me, which may make me suspect his love, and that he fully persuade me that it is fervent and eternally durable: In short, my dear Cydnon, I would have a Lover, and not a Husband: I would have him such a one as contenting himself with the possession of my heart, should love me till death and if I cannot find out such a one, I will never have any. Well Madam (replied Cydnon) since you have told me how you would be loved, so I beseech you tell me how you do intend to love. In telling the one, replied she, I have told you the other: and there ought to be no other difference of thoughts, than such as custom hath established, which requires that the man must be more complaisant, more obsequious and more submissive: As for matter of tenderness and confidence, doubtless they ought to be both equal: and if any difference be to be made, it is in this, that the man ought to give testimonies of his love, and the woman to let him only guests at hers.  
If Phaon be ever so happy (replied Cydnon) as to give you any test moneys of his love, and that you permit him to guests at yours, doubtless he will be the most worthy of all men's envy. If he be worthy of rnvy replied Sappho. I should much fear I should not be worthy of pity: For considering the constitution of my heart, if I should once love, I should love so tenderly, and in such good earnest, that it would be hard for any one to pay me back love with usury. Yet I am fully persuaded that to be happy in loving, one must at least believe that they are as much loved as they love; for otherwise one should be ashamed of their own weakness, and vexed at the neutrality of the other. Therefore Cydnon, though I do believe one may innocently love, and though I think Phaon to be amiable, and that he hath an inclination to love me, yet I am resolved to do what I can, not to love him.  
But Madam, whilst Sappho was talking thus with my sister, Phaon was talking with me of things very particular; and we two being always inseparable, we walked that Evening upon a Tarrass, the end of which was towards the Sea, by which one goes to Sicily: So as after we had walked a while, he leaned upon the Rails by himself, and fell into such a profound musing. that I knew he never thought I was there. I had formerly observed many passages, which induced me to believe that he was in Love with Sappho, and therefore I knew he thought more of her then me. And to twitt him with it, I believe (said I unto him) that since you look so earnestly towards Sicily, you are thinking of that fair fool whom you loved there: Fie cruel friend (said he unto me) mock not at my misery, it is enough you have been the cause of it, without insulting upon a wrerched man who hath changed his mind. Why (said I unto him) do you not think it better to love a fair fool, than a fair wise One? No no, Democedes (said he unto m) I think it so strange that I should ever love a witless woman, that I am persuaded I was out of my own wits, or never had any until I came from Sicily: But dear friend (added he) before I discover the secrets of my soul unto you, tell me truly how you stand affected unto the fair Sappho; for if you be my Rival, you are not fit to be my Confident. Doubtless I am a very great admirer of Sappho, replied I, but I never durst be her Lover: Then friend I am bolder than you (replied he) for I do love that divine Lady in so high a manner, as I think I shall lose my wits. When I first carried you thither, replied I, and smiled, you did not believe you could ever fall in love with any learned woman: Ah Democedes, said he unto me I did not think she had learned the Art of charming hearts but alas was mistaken: and I find you had good reason to say, that every one must be miserable before happy in Love: For such is the state I am in, that I find more delight in only meeting the eyes of Sappho, than I did in being loved by my fair fool: I found no difficulty in obtaining her esteem, and I wonder now that I did not scorn her. She looked upon me indeed very favourably, and looked upon me with eyes very fair: but they signified so little, and understood my mind so very ill, that I wonder how I came to think her fair.  
The truth is, Democedes, I am now very far from loving a fair ●ool, since I love the fair Sappho, but alas, the grand difficulty is, to tell her as much, and to tell her that I would be loved; since friend, you have all accomplishments requisite to merit her esteem (replied I) how know you but you may win her affection? I have been consulting with her eyes above these eight days, (replied he) and endeavoured to divive my destiny, and whether I am so much in her favour as to discover my love unto her, but to tell you truly, I know not what to think; sometimes me thinks her eyes do give me some kind of far fetch hopes; and sometimes again they bid me despair, but however, all her looks augments my love, my heart trembles at every glance of her eye, which inspires me with such kind of I know not what delights, as I cannot express them; when I am with her, I can do nothing else but look upon her, wonder not therefore at my musing, (my dear Democedes) for my soul is so wholly taken up with this divine Lady, that though I speak, yet I cannot think of any thing but her. I can think of nothing, but what heavenly delight it would be to be beloved by such an Angel as she, & what an honour it would be, to infuse some weakness into so great a wit, as that of the most admirable Sappho, I am thinking of all that I can sand say unto her, and when I am alone by myself, yet I have long conference with her: The truth is, I do find the fair Sappho, to be very Civil, Sweet and obliging to me; but for all that, she trusts me with no secret, and I could never oblige her to show me any of her verses. This most admirable Lady is so modest, (replied I) that her denial need be no wonder unto you, for you have not yet been so long acquainted, as to come unto the honour of such a singular privilege.  
But however, you have this advantage (said I unto him) that unto this hour she never suspected you of ever loving any, though she knows you have a very passionate soul.  
After this Madam, we retired, taking no notice whilst we talked, that the moon was in an Eclipse; but in our retiring we met Themistogenes with five or six men learned in Astrology; whom, he was carrying unto Damophile, purposely to argue with them in her presence upon this Eclipse: And we understood afterwards, that they spent almost all the night at her house in talking of the earth's interposition between the Sun and the Moon, and many other things of that nature; so that all the noble company who used to meet at Sappho's, did much divert themselves at this adventure, for since Cynegere (with whom Sappho dwelled) did very well know her wisdom and discretion, she permitted every one to go into her chamber, though Cynegire was not present, so that Amithone, Erinne, Athys, Cydnon, Nicanor, Phaon, Alces, and I, being all with Sappho, we made the conversation very pleasant, by having up all the follies which were in agitation at Damophiles, and though Sappho did not affect any Rallary in her presence yet she did not contradict this, but on the contrary, was the first which twitted Damophiles, to the end it might the better be known how great the difference was between them; so as making a very pleasant description of a confused company, she did extremely divert all her own society. However, said Cydnon, we get this advantage from the foolish conversation of Damophile, that it serves to render ours more diverting, by the excellent description which Sappho made of it; I wish she would also describe unto us, (replied Phaon) all other kind of fantastical conversations which are to be found in the world: Indeed said Athys, it would be very pleasant if she would be pleased to take so much pains, as to observe all their impertinencies.  
You put me upon a hard employment (replied Sappho) it would be much better and shorter, if every one in particular would describe that conversation which hath most wearied them: For my part (said Erinne) I am very glad of that; for I was yesterday in a company which I thought would have talked me to death, for I was in the midst of ten or twelve women, who talked everlastingly; but of no other subject than trivial domestic business, the fault of their servants, the good qualities of their children, and there was one woman amongst the rest, who spent an hour in repeating syllable after syllable, the first prattling of her son, who was three years of age, judge I beseech you, what a fine time I had of it. I assure you (replied Nicanor) that I spent my time no better than you did; for I was much against my will engaged amongst a troop of women, who spent a whole day in talking of nothing but the goodness or the badness of their clothes, telling or ask what they cost, some out of vanity said they, cost more than they did: Others to show their skill in buying, said less: so I wished my part of the day out of the calendar: For my part (replied the fair Athis) I was within these five days with a company of Ladies, who though they had wit enough, yet were extremely troublesome, for they were Ladies who were gallants by profession, who had every one their business, and business which did so wholly take them up, as they thought of nothing but taking one another's gallants from them, by al● manner of stratagems, so as though one were not of their intrigues, yet one should be engaged with them or else either be driven to a non plus, or nonplus them.  
Indeed as long as I was with them, I heard them always talking, but never understood what they said, for there was one on my right hand, who told her who was next her, that she knew such a one was broken off with such a one, and that this man had renewed with that woman, never naming any: And there was another on my left hand who talking to a Lady next her, the most foolishly that ever was heard, for (said she in a mighty fret) she you know of, need not to brag of taking my Gallant from me, since she had never gotten him from me, but because I had cast him off, and if the toy take me, I can call him again, and she shall never be the better for him as long as she lives, and the very truth is, I never was in all my life put so much out of all patience, as that day.  
For my part (said Cydnon) had I been in your room, I would have laughed at them who wearied me, but I could not do so three days since at a man and a woman whose whole discourse was of two things, either of Mytelenian Geneulogies, or of the estates belonging to families; for what delight can be taken in hearing tell a whole day together; that Zenocrates was the son of Tryphon, Clidemes son to Lenophantes, Lenophantes was descended from Tyrseus, & so they begot one another: Also what pleasure is to be taken in hearing one talk of such a house wherein you have no interest, nor ever had, no nor is ever like to have as long as you live; how it was built by such a one, bought by another, and exchanged by a third, and that it is now at this present in the possession of a man whom you know not? this questionless is not very pleasing (replied Alcaes) but it is not so tedious as to meet with a man who has some peevish business in hand, and will not talk of any thing else: For I once met a Sea Captain, who pretended that Pittacus ought to make him recompense for a ship which he had lost, who held me three long and tedious hours in relating those reasons which he had for his pretence; and who will answer and reply and object and answer Pro, and Con, as if the case were pleading before a Judge: And the better to understand his loss, he would tell me by piece meal what he was forced to cast out of his ship, and would name every person in it, one after another when it was to no purpose in the earth.  
'tis true said Amithone, that this is a very great persecution; but I must tell you, that grave and serious conversations, where every word is delivered in Querpo, and where the least smile is not permitted, hath something so tedious in it, that I am never amongst such, but my head aches, for one must always speak in one tone never laugh, but be as composed as in the Temple; such company is very tedious (replied Phaon) but there are a sort quite opposite unto those who are infinitely against the strain of my fancy; for I was one day at Syracuse, with five or six women, and two or three men, who had a fancy, that to make the company more merry, could be continually laughing so that as long as they went together, they laughed at every word which one said unto another, there was no jest or pleasant conceit in it, but made such a mad din as deafed one another, and laughed, only because others laughed without any other reason; but what is most strange is, that laughter has such a contagion sometimes in it, that there is no Antidote against the disease; but being one day amongst these eternal laughers, they so infected me, that I laughed until tears trickled down my cheeks, and knew not any reason in the world for it: But to tell you truly, I was so ashamed at myself, that within a quarter of an hour after my joys were turned into sorrows. Though it be much folly to laugh without any cause, (replied Sappho) yet I should not be so much weary, with being in the company of such merry people, as with those whose discourse is nothing but telling such pitiful; and sad, long wound stories, as would tire out Patience itself, for I know a woman who knows all the tragical adventures which ever happened; who will spend a whole day in deploring the miseries of life, and in relating lamentable accidents in such a sad and languishing tune, as if she had been hired the sing to doleful ditty of the world's misery. Yet I do know a house where their discourse useth he be as irksome as possible (replied Erinne) for they never talk of any thing but the trifling passages of their neighbour hood, of which Courtiers, unless by great accident, I never so much as heard of, or have any thing to do with, I have heard them name a hundred persons in one day, whom they know not; and they would talk of a hundred obscure passages, the noise of which never went out of the street where they were done, and which in themselves were so silly and so far from any delighting, as that they were very troublesome.  
It is a great affliction, replied Nicanor, to be in a great company where every one hath a secret, especially unto one who hath none nor any thing to do, but to hear that humming murmur, which they make who are talking in low voices, yet were there whispers upon real secrets, replied Sappho my patience would allow it: but often times they are only upon a trivial business no better than a Child's Rattle bought at the last fair. I know some people (added Alces;) who in my opinion are very weary some, though sometimes they are a little pleasing; for they have such a vain of telling great News, as they never talk of any thing under a great Battle, on the siege of some considerable Town, or some grand revolution in the world: and they would have you to know, that the gods did not alter the face of the Universe, but only to furnish them with discourse: for excepting these high stories, they have nothing to say, nor can endure any other talk: So as unless you know the very bottom of Policy, and have History at your finger's end, there is no talking with them of any thing. The truth is replied I, It is very tedious, to hearken unto such people: but such kind of People as without any care of the general business of the world, will hear of nothing but privacies, are very troublesome for you shall see them always as busy as if they had a thousand great weighty affairs in transaction, though they are of no other nature then meddling in other men's matters, and running from house to house with this or that tittle tattle, as public Spies, who are every where, and desire not the knowledge of any thing to any other end then to tell it again. All these kinds of people (replied Sappho) are very obnoxious unto Civil societies, and the principal Rule of all Companies ought to be, never to utter any thing against sound judgmen●t. I would gladly know (said Ni●a●or) how you would have our Conversation to be regulated. To speak in general, replied she) our discourse ought to be more of things ordinary and gallant, then of any high matters, yet I conceive, that nothing but what is discreet must intervene: Our talk ought to be free, pleasing and pertinent according to the times, places & persons we talk of. To speak always nobly of inferiors simply of high matters, very gallantly of things gallant, and all without any affectation, or earnestness. And though conversation ought always to be natural and reasonable; yet I must needs say, that upon some occasions, sciences may be handsomely brought in, and trivial follies may also have their place, provided they be ingenious and gallant. So as to speak rationally, I conceive there is nothing but may be brought into Conversation so it have wit: and judgement in it. But the most necessary quality to render it sweet and pleasant is a kind of Politnesse of wit which absolutely excludes all manner of biting jests and such as may offend a chaste ear.  
I would have every one to have the Art of turning things so ingeniously as that they may without offence speak of gallantry unto the most Austere Nun in the world, and to tell a trifling tale unto the gravest and most serious men: to talk of Sciences and ignorance if they be forced; and to vary one's wit, according to the things talked of, and Persons to whom they talk: But above all, I would have a certain spirit of mirth to be predominant, which without any tincture of the follies in those Eternal Laughers who make a great noise upon a little matter may inspire into the hearts of all the company, a disposition to divert themselves at any thing, and to be troubled at nothing: and I allow them to talk of greater matters provided still they talk well, and without any pumping for their words, and of such things as are fit to be talked of.  
The Laws Madam, which you gave unto Conversation are such (replied Phaon) as whosoever shall admire your wisdom, and carry themselves as you do, will merit the admiration of the whole Earth, for never any had such an Art of pleasing of charming, and of diverting, as yourself. I would all you say were true, (replied she and blushed) and that I could believe you more than I do myself, but to show you that I cannot, and that I know myself often faulty, I ingeniously declare that I have spoken too much, and that in lieu of telling you all my Conceptions concerning society, I should only have said as much of all the company as you have said of me. After this, every one opposing the modesty of Sappho, we all commended her so highly that we more than half angered her, but afterwards the discourse was so gallant, so free, so pleasant and merry, that it continued till night when we all parted. Phaon who more fettered in the nets of Love then before, would needs stay the last with Sappho, and his passion was so fervent that he resolved to give it a little vent, and not to leave her until he had given her some glimpse of it: So that after we were all gone, he asked pardon for troubling her so long, but Madam (said he unto her) when I saw you only in company, me thought I did not see you enough. 'tis true, I am much bettered by your Elegant discourse, and I do admire it more than any, but for all that, I am more joyed when I hear you in presence of none else; and two or three words only which are interrupted only by myself, do give me fuller satisfaction, and would more ravish me, than all your excellent Language wherewith you have charmed all the company this day, were you in Love with me (replied she and smiled) I should think these expressions very gallant, but since I entertain none but friends, and will never look upon any Lovers, I much chide you, for profiting no better by my discourse concerning Conversation. Since this your Language would be very suitable unto a Mistress, but not unto a friend. I beseech you Madam, (said he) do you think my Language very suitable unto a Person whom I loved? you know I am always sincere, replied she) and therefore you may believe I speak my thoughts. Then Madam (replied he and looked upon her) my Language is most suitable unto you, for I do not speak it only unto afriend, but unto one with whom I am most desperately in love: and that in such an humble and reverend manner, that you cannot be offended at me. If decency would allow me (replied Sappho, and blushed) not to be offended at a declaration of Love, I believe I should not be offended at you: But Phaon it will not, and therefore I must either be angry with you, or else not believe you: Oh Madam (cried out Phaon) never make any question between these two, but be certain, that I had rather be treated ill, than not believed.  
Since you never saw me angry (replied she very gallantly) you know not what you say, but since I know what is good for you better than you do yourself, I will neither be angry with you, nor believe you. Oh I beseech you Madam (said he unto her) believe me and be angry too, if you cannot believe me without being angry: for as I told you before, I had much rather see you angry then incredulous. Since belief is a thing not in our own power (replied she) we cannot believe what we would: And therefore when I said that it was in my choice whether I should believe you or be angry with you, I conceive that I spoke improperly, and had better say, That it being impossible for me to believe you, it is also impossible for me to be angry with you. But I beseech you Madam (said he unto her) why cannot you believe that I love you? Is it because you think yourself not fair and charming enough to captivate hearts? Is it because I have not wit enough to know your transcendencies? It is because my soul is frozen, and my heart incapable of any tender passion? Is it because my eyes never yet met yours, and told them what my heart thinks? Or is it because the most admired Sappho does think the unhappy Phaon so unworthy to bear her Chains, that she had rather think him insensible, then suffer him to wear them? But Madam; say what you please, I can never believe that a Person who is so superlatively knowing in all things, should not know, that I adore her. I assure you (replied Sappho gallantly) I am so far from knowing it, that I am persuaded you do not know it yourself. Therefore to do you all the favour that I can, I will give you three Month's time to examine your own thoughts without mentioning the least syllable of any such thing unto me, and if after that you think still that you love me, I shall advise upon it whether I should believe you and be angry: In the mean time, let us both live, I conjure you as formerly we used, Sappho expressed herself with such a gallant air that Phaon making no question but that she believed he loved her, he thought himself very happy, in that he had said so much, and was no worse treated: And Sappho being unwilling he should force her to be angry with him, she dismissed him, and kept such a strict decorum in all her words; that if her eyes had not betrayed the secret of her heart, Phaon could not have gleaned any hopes: But since questionless she had a very strong inclination to him, her looks assured him, that his passion did not displease her: So as he went away well satisfied, and very extremely fettered in love.  
In the mean time, Sappho was not so well satisfied, for my Sister told me, that she was very unquiet. Not but that she had all the advantageous thoughts of Phaon that was possible: but it was, because knowing the tenderness of her own heart, she was afraid of being engaged to Love, and her fears were the more, because she perceived in her soul such a favourable opinion of this Lover, that she feared her reason was too weak for her inclination. And she saw she had more reason to fear it, because she observed that. All which Alces said unto her in behalf of the Prince Tysander, did much more displease her then before: and she observed that she did less divert herself amongst her friends, than she was wont before Phaons' acquaintance. She could not choose, when the fancy of composing Verses was upon her, but think upon Phaon, and he did so much run in her memory, in her heart, and imagination; that she would often name him for another: So that Cydnon did often in a jesting way ask her what progress she made in the heart of Phaon? and what progress Phaon made in hers? At the first, Sappho was wont to answer in merriment, as she asked the question, but afterwards her answers were more serious, and at last, her answers were so peevish, that Cydnon for a time gave over ask any more. But after a two months' silence concerning that subject, she who would not answer then unto any questions which were asked concerning Phaon, did now begin the first to speak of him. But the truth is, she began not to till after the consequence of an adventure which I shall acquaint you with.  
Be pleased to know then, that a most admirable Limner whose name was Leon, coming unto Mitylene, all the friends of Sappho were importunate with her to let her Picture be taken, and they were so very earnest with her, that she was forced to satisfy them in a very particular manner, for she was resolved to let every one of her friends have one, both women and men, so that her Lovers, to obtain this honour, did all shroud themselves under the notion of friends, and they pretended unto this honour in such a gallant way, as she knew not how to avoid it, for Nicanor, Phaon, Alces and myself, being one day at her house: And Amithone Erinne, Athys, and Cydnon being there also; we all began to oblige Cynegire to solicit Sappho for her Picture, every one acquainting her with the rights they had to pretend unto it, so that Nicanor and Phaon, though the Lovers of Sappho, yet pleaded as if they were only her friends: And Alces though Tysanders' Solicitor, sued for this Picture, unto a pretence of Tysanders' friendship, so as there was only I who said what I thought. It was worth observation, to see how Nicanor was vexed that he could not obtain Sappho's Picture without Phaon had it as well as himself, and to see how ill satisfied Phaon was that Nicanor should have a Picture, which as he thought, he only deserved. Alces wished that neither of them might have it, and he merrily said that if Sappho would be ruled by him, she should give it unto none but himself, for (said he unto her) since my heart was engaged before I had the honour to see you, you may very well give me your Picture without fear of any dangerous consequences, but as for Nicanor and Phaon since none can see into their hearts, it is to be feared, that in thinking to give your Picture unto your friends only, you may give it unto your Lovers. As soon as Alces had said so Phaon and Nicanor looked upon one another, as if they had been at a stand for an answer unto Alces, yet that trouble was saved then, for I speaking as for my own interest since every one is for himself only (replied I, in speaking to Alces) I neither speak for Nicanor nor Phaon, but I dare boldly affirm, that I may very well demand the Picture of the most admirable Sappho, only as the Brother of Cydnon.  
And I affirm, (added Phaon) that Alces is not in a condition worthy of it, though his merits are enough for since he is in love with another, and should be so happy as to get the picture of his mistress, than the picture of the most transcendent Sappho, would be placed below another. Since perhaps he shall never obtain that favour from his Mistress, (replied Athys and blushed) I cannot think that reason sufficient to hinder Sappho from granting her picture unto Alces, who I believe can never have a mistress, whom he will set above her. However it be (said Phaon) I think it not expedient that the fair Sappho, should give her picture unto any, but such friends as are not in love as Alces is: If so (said Nicanor unto Phaon) who can assure the fair Sappho, that you deserve to have her picture? For since you are but new come into Mytelene, and have been long in Sicily, it is probable you have a mistress there; but it is otherwise with me, for it is well known, that I use to visit none assidiously, but the fair Sappho, and that I was never guilty of any gallantry which might render me unworthy of her picture.  
Since I came unto Mytelene, without any invitation of business, (replied Phaon) it is to be thought I was not in love where you mentioned, since I left it upon such easy terms, but without any pumping for reasons to justify myself, I do consent that the fair Sappho refuse me her picture, if she think I was in love with any in Sicily.  
For my part (said Amithone) if I were to be credited, none should have the fair Saphocs' picture but myself. And if my advice would be taken, (said Erinne) I would have it sent over all the world, so I had it (replied Athys) it should be done as she pleased. And provided my brother had one (replied Cydnon) I should be contented she should deny it unto Alces, unto Nicanor, and unto Phaon, I conceive my best course is (replied Sappho) to give it unto none. No, no (said Cynegere) you shall not be mistress of yourself: But lest you should disoblige any, you shall give it unto all your friends without exception, for if you should except any one, perhaps you would do him a greater favour than in giving it. Though what Cynegere said might well have pleased all the company, yet Nicanor, and Phaon did argue the business between themselves; but at last, lest they should lose the Picture of Sappho, they agreed upon the matter, since the one could not have it, unless the other had it also, since Sappho knew what Phaon had said unto her, she thought it expedient not to yield so soon, but to take some particular exceptions against him, so as taking Nicanors part, she told Phaon, that perhaps he had twenty pictures which he would place before hers and there passed a very gallant discourse between them: For though he seemed to have no other design in protesting that he loved none in Sicily, but to obtain her picture, yet he made a thousand protestations of love unto her, which she understood very well, though she seemed as if she did not. Yet she did vere gallantly put him to the puzzle, when he was to answer. For (said she unto him) you think you have said enough when you have sworn that you loved none in Sicily, but believe me you have not; for you must swear also that you are in love with none in Mytelene.  
Madam, (said he unto her, to get himself out of this great plunge) since I have seen none but you, me thinks it is not necessary to say any more than what I have already told you, for you know the course of my life since I came hither, as well as myself, I know so many lovely friends (replied she and smiled) that though you go no further than my Chamber, yet it is not impossible, but you may be in Love.  
For my particular (replied Amithone) I shall not hinder Phaon from your picture; for I do declare that he is not in love with me: I can say so much of myself (replied Erinne) I can say more than that, (said Athys) since I dare answer for Cydnon, and myself. Though all this should be so (said Alces,) yet all's not enough to oblige Sappho to give her picture unto Phaon, for perhaps he is in love with her, and since she will bestow her picture only upon her friends and not her Lovers, it is requisite he swear, that he is not in love with her, if he would have her picture.  
As for that replied Sappho, I will dispense with him, for I am persuaded his heart has no such thoughts of me, as may hinder me from giving him my picture. Since it is so (said Cynegere, and gave Phaon no time to answer) there need no disputes upon a thing resolved upon: Therefore let the Artist begin his work to morrow: And indeed so Leon did, for he began to take the Picture of Sappho the next day.  
Thus were the friends, the Lovers, and the Rivals of Sappho equally favoured, yet Phaons' soul found abundance of sweetness in thinking that Sappho should know he loved her, and yet permit him her picture: But these sweet thoughts were molested by others which followed a little after: For he could not have any thoughts that Nicanor should be favoured as well as himself without a heartburning: Yet since he did not know whether his Rival had discovered his passion unto Sappho, he soothed up his soul with hopes. He knew also that Alces was Tysanders' Confident, and they so assured him that there was no cause of any fears this way, that the picture which he was to have never troubled him.  
On the other side, Sappho out of her violent inclination unto Phaon, was not sorry that Chance had given her such an innocent way of bestowing her Picture upon him: And she carried herself in such an obliging manner towards him, that it was impossible she should be sorry for it.  
He still keeps himself within his prescribed bounds, he hinted not the least syllable of his passion to her: But yet he made it appear unto her by so many several other ways, that never any had a more subtle art of loving without speaking then he; and he did it so curiously without any affectation, that where soever she was, she could not choose but see it, and none else but she: if at any time she had any accident of Joy, he did so participate in it, that she judging of his love by his satisfaction, she judged aright: if on the contrary, and chance did separate him from her, he made his sorrows so discreetly appear, that the judging of his love by his Grief, she could not choose but think it great: The truth is, he spoke unto her, and was never heard; and he spoke in an Air so discreet, so gallant, and so passionate, that she understood him as well as if he had used his tongue: if he looked upon her, his eyes told her what his heart thought, and I have observed a hundred times by a lovely blush which died the cheeks of Sappho, that she understood the Language of his looks: and though she had no desire to answer him, yet her fair eyes did it for her whether she would or no. When her Picture was taking, and we looked on, she would look fixedly upon Phaon: and her thoughts of him being very advantageous, she had such a languishing and amorous Air, though without any affectation, that Nicanor not being able to endure his Rival should be so favourably looked upon, told her, that she looked not enough upon the Painter, to have her Picture well drawn, and that if she continued in that deep study, it would be taken too melancholic.  
Nicanor had no sooner said so, but Sappho blushed, for she understood well enough out of what thoughts he spoke it: Yet she knew how to give him an answer so to the purpose, that she persuaded all the company it was impossible to have her Picture taken without being subject unto those kind of muse, which proceed (said she) from the constraint of not stirring.  
As for Phaon, he was so vexed at Nicanor, that he contradicted him all the rest of the day. If Nicanor said that the Painter had happily hit upon the resemblance of Sappho eyes, Phaon would say, he thought not so, but that he had much better taken the smile of her mouth. If Nicanor said the picture was too pale, Phaon would say it was rather too high-coloured: and if the Painter should have wrought according to the various opinions of these two Rivals, they had had but a bad picture of their Mistress.  
But that which was most pleasant in the contradicting humour of Phaon was, that after the Picture was first rudely taken, Nicanor said that it wronged Sappho, because she was a thousand times fairer than it: Phaon durst not contradict him, because if he had, he had said the Picture was fairer than her for whom it was made; but his eyes made it evident, that he was vexed because he could not contradict him: and because he would oppose him in something, he began to flatter the Painter.  
Therefore (said he) it is no wonder if no picture can be absolutely resembling the most admirable Sappho, because there are so many Angelical features in her face, and fire such in her eyes as is unimitable: and that he was persuaded Leon had done it as well as any other Artist could, though short of the Original. All the company knowing what the reason was which moved these men to thwart one another, we took much delight in hearing them; for since their dispute was not very bitter, because they respected Sappho more than to quarrel in her presence, we made ourselves admirable good sport at them, and Sappho herself was not sorry to find a new testimony of Phaons' love, by his obstinate contradicting of Nicanor.  
At the end of this Conversation, we had another diversion: For as we asked the Painter when he would be at leisure to take the pictures of the other Ladies, who intended to give Sappho their pictures, as she would give them hers; the Painter answered that it could not be the day following, nor the day after that, because he was very busy in finishing a great piece of Damophiles, which had abundance of work about it.  
But why (said Sappho to him) is there more work about her picture than mine? because Madam (said he unto her) she will have drawn besides her, a great Table, full of books, a Lute, many Mathematical instruments, and a thousand other things which may represent her learning and knowledge. I think also she intends her dress to resemble the Muses, so as I assure you her piece will require much time before it be finished. For heavens ●ake Leon (said Sappho and laughed) dress me like unto the ragged Shepherdess Onone, that my picture may nothing resemble Damophiles: and she was so earnest upon it, that to content her, he promised to draw her in the habit of a Shepherdess, whereas before she resembled a Nymph. After which she did so pleasantly and innocently play upon the picture of Damophile, that we ended the day very pleasantly.  
But Madam, to abreviate my story as much as I can, be pleased to know, that Sapho's picture being finished, it was one of the most admirable pieces in the world. The habit of a Shepherdess did so become the Air of her face, that never any was more amiable: so as all the Copies which she was to give unto her friends being taken, and the pictures of Amithone, Athys, Erinne, and Cydnon being also taken, all these several pictures were distributed: Sappho gave hers to her friends, and they gave theirs to her. But as for Nicanor, Phaon, Alces, and myself which were in the catalogue of her friends, we only thanked her for her most precious presents, but it was in a very different manner; for Nicanor who durst not speak of his passion, but thanked her, but under the notion of a friend, who durst not tell her that he was her Lover.  
As for Phaon, he thanked her in such passionate Language, that though he did not pronounce the word Love, yet Sappho did hearken unto his Compliment more than unto a Compliment of amity. As for Alces, since he was still an officious Solicitor for the Prince Tysander, he told her in a low voice, that he alone would not thank her for her precious liberality, but would stay until a person of more merit joined with him. So as I was the only one who paid the tribute of thanks out of pure amity, and common gratitude.  
In the mean while, while Phaon being the most assiduous in his merits; hat day which he thanked her for his picture, he stayed the last with her. So as looking upon the Original of the picture which yet lay upon the Table, he began to talk of the extravagant Damophile, who would have her picture drawn with so many Emblems of knowledge about her: And afterwards he talked of what Sappho said, when she desired the Painter to dress her resemblant unto the Shepherdess Onone.  
However Madam (said he unto her) you may be sure you shall never have her destiny as you have her dress; for it is most impossible, if ever you love any, that he whom you love should forsake you. Though the Goddesses should every day have a fresh contest about their Beauties (replied she and laughed) yet perhaps when I am in the humour of loving a Shepherd as Onone was, he should never be their Judge: and his constancy would not be put unto such a difficult Test as her Shepherd was: Oh Madam (cried out he) if that happy Shepherd whom you shall choose have but the heart of Phaon, he will never hearken unto the promises of the fairest of all the three Goddesses, though she should show him as much of beauty as made Paris perfidious: For really Madam, you are to me the only beauty in the whole world: I find none in it amiable but you; and my heart is so wholly yours, that you deny it unto all other Ladies upon earth: And I think also (added he) that you keep it from all my friends; for I am so sensible of you, that I am absolutely insensible of any else. I pray Sir (said Sappho and interrupted him) consider well what you say; for if you go beyond the degree of a friend, you must restore my picture, for I will not be upbraided with bestowing it upon any Lover. No, no Madam (said he) I can never restore your Picture, I must lose my life before any have it out of my hands: and though you should be angry, banish me, and treat me with the worst of rigour, yet as long as I can do it without any witness, I must tell you that I do love you, and must beseech you not to hate me; for the very truth is, I cannot live unless I love you, and I cannot love you without telling you; and I cannot tell you, unless I conjure you to do justice unto the grandeur and fidelity of my of passion by preferring it before the quality and merit of all my Rivals. I perceive Madam (continued he) that you prepare yourself to give me an angry answers, but I am resolved to endure it with all imaginable respect, yet will not obey you if you forbid me, telling you how I love you: This is a new way (replied Sappho): will you profess disobedience, before the command be given which it is expected you should obey? However it be Madam (said he unto her) I am grown to that height that I cannot live as I have done; You must either let me love you, or command me to die. Since I have no right to regulate your love or your hatred (repyed she) I have nothing either to forbid or command you: and since you are a man of too many excellent parts for any to desire your death, I will lay no command upon you which shall oblige you to seek it: But I must tell you, that though I am persuaded, that without any offence of decency I may permit you to love me, yet out of generosity I ought to acquaint you, that I am the most difficult person in the world to be pleased: and therefore it is better not to engage yourself in an affection which perhaps will not be durable, though at present it be very violent; for indeed there is in all men such a natural propensity into inconstancy, hat though I were a thousand times fairer than I am, yet it were fond imprudence in me to believe I should find one absolutely faithful: Yet if ever I do admit of a lover, he shall be such a one as upon whom time and absence can have no power: Indeed I would have such a one as is not to be found in the world, and therefore I advise you to content yourself with the quality of my friend; for if I do allow you to love me, perhaps you will find a most miserable task of of it, or else you will give over loving me. Oh Madam (said he unto her) do what you can, I shall love you as long as any life is in me, and the matters rests upon nothing, but to know whether you will let me tell you that I do love you, and whether there is any hopes of my being loved.  
Since it is not forbidden to be curious (replied Sappho) I should not be sorry if I knew in what manner you are able to love: and therefore without engaging myself unto any thing, I am contented you tell me what thoughts this passion does infuse unto you, for until this hour I never knew any man who had not a thousand gross conceits of this passion, which I conceive of in a more pure and delicate manner. All I can say is, Madam (replied he) that you are so absolute Mistress of my heart, my mind, my will, and all my faculties, that you cannot but inspire my thoughts into me: Yes Madam, you need only let me know the way how you would have me love you, and you shall find in me a blind obedience unto your will; for the perfection of love is to will the same which the person loved doth will.  
But Madam, without any tedious repetition of every circumstance of this Conference, I will only in short tell you, that Sappho without granting any thing unto Phaon, did not plunge him into any despair: And Phaon without obtaining any thing from Sappho, parted from her with a mind full of hopes; for though she said nothing to him that was very favourable, yet she said nothing that was displeasing; but her eyes gave her such sweet Language, that he could not choose but think himself very happy in the convicture: Yet he would have esteemed h●mselfe much more happy, had he heard the discourse which Sappho had the next day with my sister, for she opened her very heart unto her. Ah Cydnon (said she) how ill do I wish Democedes for acquainting me with Phaon? For he still continues constant in loving me, and I am afraid I cannot refuse his affection: I find my reason doth but weakly defend my heart, and that it is so little my own, that if Phaons' be not more mine that it is, I am in a most sad condition.  
Moreover, I know not what my design is in discovering my weakness unto you: For sometimes I think it is to the end you should chide me, and make me repent, and sometimes on the contrary, to the end you should soothe me up in my follies. However, I am extremely vexed at the resentments of my soul, not but that I do find much sweetness in my inquietudes; but still my reason being yet not altogether prepossessed, it doth show me the danger unto which I am exposed, by permitting the affection of Phaon to find entertainment: For it is almost impossible he should love me as I desire to be, and as impossible I should love him less than I do.  
The truth is Madam, (replied Cydnon) that if you would have Phaon to love you, and never to think of marrying, it will be a hard matter for him to obey you, and yet he must (replied she) if he would have me love him, he must content himself with hopes of being loved, without pretending unto any further.  
These Madam, were the thoughts of Sappho, and though she had a great inclination unto Phaon, yet she bridled it a long time, and would neither suffer him to tell that he did love her, nor to hope that she would love him, and yet lived very civilly towards him, and to that point, as she did not any longer conceal her writings from him, so that he and I being one day with her alone, we importuned her to show us all her verses, and so earnestly, that at last she consented to show us part of them; but since her modesty would not let her read them, she gave them unto us, and went into her closet to answer a Letter which she had received from one of her Cousins, but Madam, I am very sorry I cannot show you what there we saw, not only because it would be exceeding delightful unto you; but because also you might see what a strange effect, the reading of these verses wrought in the heart of Phaon.  
In the mean time, since I have not these excellent verses to show you, I must endeavour to let you understand it some other way; imagine therefore Madam, that after Sappho had given us her verses to read, and was gone into her closet, Phaon began to read an Elegy, which formerly she had made unto my sister during her long absence; he found them to be so apt, so moving, so tender, and so passionate that his heart melted at the reading them, and stopped above a hundred times to admire them. Afterwards, he read a song which she had composed upon my sister's return; where he found in few words all the raptures of joy, which the most fervent affection could infuse into an amorous soul, at the reseeing of a loved person, after a long separation: Then Phaon read another little piece of Sappho's Genius which she had writ to express her joys upon her unexpected meeting of a person which she loved, her expressions were so significative as it was apparent they were her own: She admirably described the sweetness of Looks, the trembling of Heart, which a sudden surprise useth to cause, the disorder of the Countenance, the agitation of the Spirits, and all the motions of a passionate Soul. But Madam, after Phaon had read these verses aloud, he read them again in a low voice to himself, and when he had done, he looked earnestly upon them without a word speaking, or ability to read others.  
I being desirous to satisfy my curiosity, roused him out of those muse which I thought his admiration only had caused, and forced him to read those Verses which Sappho had made upon a jealous amity which had been betwixt Athys and Amithone: But Madam, This jealousy had the right Character of Love, and all the violences which that tyrannical passion could possible inspire into an amorous heart, were so admirably expressed, as it was absolutely impossible to mend them.  
For my part I did nothing but applaud and admire the genius of Sappho, all the while Phaon was reading that piece, but as for him, he read it with attention so full of pensiveness as I began to wonder; yet to lose no time in ask him the cause I set myself to read some Verses which Sappho had made in the Country, during a little journey of eight hours which she went alone with my Sister unto a very pleasant house of Sappho's, by these Verses she represented the felicity of two Persons who love one another, and thereby proves that they stand in need of none but themselves to live happily, describing afterwards the tenderness of their affections; their sincerity one unto another, their delights, their recreations, their discourses, upon the sweetness of amity and friendship, and a thousand such like. And Madam, all that the most delicate love could invent of sweetness was described by these lines, though it aggravate only the sweets of amity, and never in my life, did I see any so full of Wit, so gallant, and so passionate: But as excellent as they were, I could not read them out, for Phaon who hearkened unto them with extraordinary attention, interrupted me with these words. Ah Democedes (said he unto me) Sappho is the rarest Person in the world, but I am the most miserable Lover upon Earth, and you the most subtle of all men living: As for the first of these you mention (replied I) I concur with you, but I do not understand the second nor the third, for why are you the most miserable Lover in the World? and why am I the most subtle of all men living? I am the most miserable Lover (replied he) because Sappho is most certainly in love with some one: And you the most subtle, because you assure me she is not in Love with any. But I beseech you (said I unto him) upon what do you ground your opinion that she loves any one? I ground it, replied he upon what I have read: For Democedes it is absolutely impossible she should write so passionately and tenderly, unless she had experimentally been passionate.  
As Phaon said so, Sappho returned, expecting a thousand applauds from Phaon, But Madam, if I had not commended her she had gone without a debt which was due unto her merit: for Phaons' mind was so stung with a causeless jealousy which sprung in his heart, that he could hardly speak. Yet after I had given him time to recollect himself, by my commending of Sappho: The same jealousy which caused his silence, made him break it, to see if he could discover in the eyes of this excellent Lady, whether he had any ground for his suspicions. What I see here Madam is so surprising (said he unto her) that you must not think it strange I should not be able to express my admiration: Since Sir answered she) you have now been long enough acquainted with me to know that I do not love to be commended in my presence, you would do me a pleasure if you would speak no more unto me of what you have seen.  
Oh Madam (said he hastily) I must needs speak something, and ask you boldly, what you do with all that tenderness, wherewith your heart is filled? for I have read such passionate expressions, that the heart of the Writer must needs be well experienced, and capable of Love: It is so, with the merit of my friends (replied she and blushed) and my affection to them is so tender, that if I had as much wit as amity, I should have written more passionately than I did. Phaon eyeing Sappho very attentively, he observed her blush, yet he could not divine that it was in his advantage, and that Sappho had not changed colour as she answered him, but because she secretly chid herself for having too tender thoughts of him.  
But on the contrary, interpreting her blush another way, he thought that Sappho's soul was passionate for some of his Rivals, and this belief did raise such a disordered damp in his spirits, that he was silent upon a sudden: And if company had not come in, doubtless his silence had seemed very odd unto the fair Sappho; but since Nicanor, Phylire, and some other Ladies came in, Sappho made haste to hide those Verses which she had showed unto us, so as she took no notice of Phaons' silence.  
In the mean time, perceiving his mind much unquiet, he made a sign unto me, that we should go away: and indeed, whilst Sappho was entertaining these Ladies, we went out without taking leave, and we went to walk by the Sea side. We were no sooner there, but Phaon began to complain against me; for (said he) how can it be possible you should be brother unto Sappho's best friend, and not know that she is in love? for most certainly so she is, or has been, for it most absolutely impossible that any should express themselves so passionately, as she hath done, unless she had experimentally been possessed with that passion: There is such odd, tender, and passionate phrases in those lines which Sappho showed us, that friendship alone could not suggest them unto her, but absolutely she either is in Love▪ or hath been, for my part (said I unto him) I have known Sappho from her Cradle; I have known all her acquaintances, I am the brother of one who knows all the secrets of her heart, and I do solemnly protest unto you, that I am most confidently persuaded, though Sappho was loved by every one that saw her, yet she never was in love with any; but withal let me tell you that I think her very capable of that passion, and if ever it enter into her heart, she will love with more tenderness and fidelity than ever any did: Alas Democedes (said he unto me) you do either deceive me, or else are deceived yourself; for Sappho could never write those verses unless she were in love with some or other. But friend (said I to comfort his mind) if you had seen any of those lines which Sappho writ upon a victory which Pittacus obtained, you would say she can write as well upon war as upon Love, and by her writings you may as well infer that she is a soldier, as in love, Alas Democedes (said he unto me) the case is not the same, for the very reading of Homer, is enough to teach one how to speak of war, but it is Love only which can teah one how to speak of Love.  
For my part, replied I, I know not how you argue, but I am sure Homer speaks of Love as well as War, and Sappho might learn to speak as he did. Ah Democedes, (said he with a pensive look) gladly would I believe it was you who taught Sappho to write so passionately as she doth, for if you did not, you would say as I do, and swear that it is impossible any should write well of Love, and not be in Love, if you do but compare those expressions of Homer, with those of Sappho, you shall find a vast difference, honest Homer does better set out the friendship of Patroclus and Achilles than he doth the Love of Achilles and Priseus,: had Sappho only used such high expressions as Love doth cause, and not used them passionately, I should have believed as you do, that she might have writ of Love, and not have loved any.  
But Democedes, she has such delicate, tender, and passionate fancies, as are impossible to proceed from any heart, but such a one as is in love, the truth is, I know it by my own experience, for when I returned unto Mytelene, I must ingenionsly confess, that I did not know what Love was, but in such a gross manner, as I should never have understood the depth of Sappho's lines: And that fair fool whom I loved in Sicily, did inspire me with thoughts only propotionable into her own wit: Therefore my love of Sappho, hath taught me to know infallibly, what is in her heart, and I have now nothing else to do, but to learn who that happy one is whom this fair one loves, and inspires her with such tender, and passionate thoughts. Therefore my dear Democedes (added he) if it was not you who taught her this Art, then help me to discover whom it is she loves, to the end I may of two courses, take the one of them; either to cure myself, or else to ruin my Rival. Seriously (said I unto him once again) I cannot possibly believe that Sappho is in love with any: for it is most certain, that she neither loves the Prince Tysander, nor Nicanor: For these two Lovers kept such jealous eyes upon one another, that they would have found it out, had there been any cause of suspicion given them; and therefore friend, you have no cause to trouble your mind with any such fantastical and ill grounded jealousy. I know not Democedes (said he unto me) how its possible you should think as you say: For my part, though I had seen with my own eyes, and heard with my own ears, a thousand passages which might persuade me, that Sappho either is, or hath been in Love, I could not more confidently believe it then I do: Therefore if it be so, that you are not in love with this fair person; nor have any manner of hidden interest, in saying as you do, I conjure you to employ all your ingenuity, in discovering what I desire to know: Cydnon loves you so dearly, and you have so much wit of your own (added he, and flattered me) that if you will, you may quickly find out, who that happy one is, which reigns in the heart of Sappho, and inspires her with such passionate thoughts. Oh! Heavens (said he) how worthy should I think myself of envy, if the most admirable Sappho had such thoughts of me, as she has of some other; the greatest wonder to me is, that he should have the honour to make her in love with him, and that their correspondencies should not be discovered, and how is it possible he should conceal so great a felicity?  
After this, Phaon used a hundred expressions, which made both his Love and his Jealousy equally apparent, and I did promise him to be as careful in enquiring of what he desired to know, as if i had been as fully persuaded of it as he was. In the mean time, I was certain that Sappho loved none, unless she loved him, and that her writing so passionately, proceeded only from a natural tenderness of her Soul. Yet for the satisfaction of my friend, I asked my sister the question, as if I had doubted it: But I asked her in vain, for she did not so much as tell me that she began to love Phaon, so as telling Phaon that I could not discover any thing, he was extremely disquieted, and confessed since, that sometimes he believed Sappho loved me, and that her friendship unto my sister was but her umbrage to shroud her affection unto me.  
In the mean time since he could not disucoer any thing which might confirm him in his belief, he durst not make it appear unto me, and yet he could not so constrain himself, but that I perceived his soul was in a very Hell: And indeed, this fantastical jealousy did torment him in such a cruel manner, that all the world perceived it as well as I, that he was extremely troubled. Sappho herself, asked him the reason of the alteration in his humour, but he durst not tell her, nor durst he speak any more to me by reason of his jealous fancies, so as he did live a melanchollick life.  
Moreover, since it was not possible for him but to hear many of Sappho's verses repeated every day, this was a daily fresh torment unto him, for he could not hear them without a tremble of heart: Again, he kept an observant eye upon all the men which used to come often unto Sappho, and also he was very vigilant over some who never came there: And jealousy did never torment any person more than it did Phaon; though he had no cause, but was the only one that was loved of all Sappho's Lovers. He knew not what to do, no● what to think, to clear suspicions: So as he resolved to go into the Country for a while, and try if that would cure him, both of his Love, and of his jealousy, he took up this resolution without imparting it unto any, insomuch as I was much surprised at his departure: Sappho also murmured much, that he would not bid her adieu before he went, and all the rest of his friends did nothing but ask the reason.  
In the mean time, so it chanced, that I had some business which called me into the country, and I went two days after Phaon, I was no sooner out of Mytelene, but the Prince Thrasibulus landed there, to leave the Prince Tysander in that place, whom the invincible Cyrus, who then named himself Artamenes, had wounded in several places, when both falling into the sea, they had a combat together so admirably strange, and extraordinary, that the Prince Thrasibulus, who was then called the Famous Pirate, had as great a desire to save the life of his enemy, who had so bravely resisted him, as the life of a friend, who was infinitely dear unto him: But Madam, to wave this passage, the Prince Tysander returned to Mytelene yet worse of those wounds, which the eyes of Sappho had made in his heart, than of those he received from the illustrious Artamenes, who honoured the fair Sappho with a visit, which satisfied her so well, that she spoke of none but him for a long time.  
But at last, the Prince Thrasibulus went away, and left Tysander there, I also returned to Mytelene, and Phaon hearing of his Rivals being returned also; but his jealousy was it which caused his return: imagine, that perhaps it was the Prince Tysander whom Sappho loved, though none spoke of it. When he was returned, every one did chide him for his sudden departure; but he did so little hearken unto their Rallary upon it, as they gave over talking any more of it. Sappho, she gloomed, and would not speak to him. Also she being persuaded, that his solitariness was an effect of his Love unto her, she pitied him, and would not twit him with it.  
In the mean time, Alces was a close Solicitor for the Prince Tysander, but all his solicitations would not do, for she would not give him any favourable countenance: And indeed, she was not in a condition for it; for she did already love Phaon very tenderly, or at least had a strong inclination to him. Yet since the merit and the quality of Tysander did oblige her to look well upon him, she denied him her heart without any incivility, and without denying him her esteem; yet she had a great quarrel with Alces, for giving unto Tysander, that picture which she had bestowed upon himself, yet he knew so well how to excuse himself, that she did pardon him in her heart, though she always said, she would never pardon him.  
On the other side, Sappho having many envyers, there were some Ladies who told Tysander, that Sappho had given her Picture unto so many, only as a shroud to cover her giving it unto Phaon, and they spoke so highly of this fresh Lover of Sappho, that jealousy joined itself with love to torment him.  
And as fuel to the fire, Tysander found that Phaon was so amiable, as he was apt to believe him beloved: So as both of them were a like jealous. Nicanor for his part, he was not exempted since he was jealous both of him that was loved, and of him that was not, for he feared least the Quality of Tysander should win much upon Sappho, and he feared no less, lest the extraordinary merit of Phaon should make him miserable.  
In the mean time this beloved Lover who made all his Rivals unhappy, was no more happy than they were, for often seeing the tender and passionate Verses of Sappho, his jealousy augmented every minute. Alas (would he often say) how great would my felicity be, if in reading all these passionate expressions, I could hope to be Loved by a Person, who knows so well how to love? and who by the tenderness of her heart does assure all those she loves of a thousand felicities, which others are ignorant of, and which the greatest beauties of the World knows not how to give.  
For beauty only hath no further attraction, but what the grace of novelty doth give it. But the tenderness of an amorous and passionate heart is an unexhaustible source of fresh delights, which spring newly every moment, & which augments love with Time, whereas commonly Time doth diminish it. But the worst is, the tenderness of Sappho, being for another, she makes me as miserable as she makes that other happy. And all her tender and passionate Lines which would be so many joys unto me if I were Loved: do now most horridly afflict me, because I am not loved.  
Phaon then being thus restless, not knowing what to do, nor trusting any more in me, he thought that if he could see all that Sappho had written, perhaps he might pick something out which might satisfy him, and come to know who it was which inspired her with such tender and passionate thoughts: So as after this, he asked every one he met for the Verses of Sappho, and was importunate also with her, when he was alone with her: Also when he was with her, he used to look continually upon her table, whether she had left any papers upon it: In the end, he resolved to suborn one of Sappho's women, under colour of curiosity only to see her excellent Verses, to steal them out of her Mistress Closet, but do what he could, he could not corrupt her: But as last an accident chanced without which perhaps he had never seen them, and which caused a great disorder and restlessness in his mind.  
Be pleased to know then Madam, That the Prince Tysander being recovered, he came to see Sappho, and came with abundance of company; so as this visit affording no fit opportunities of making his complaints unto the fair Sappho, the discourse was only upon things indifferent: And since Cynegire, with whom she lived, had much repaired, and beautified her house, since the departure of that Prince, they talked very much of what she had done, especially of Sappho Closet which had been much adorned with painting since Tysanders' departure. This Prince, desiring then to see it, and she not daring to deny him, she opened the Door, and all the company went in. So that Phaon entering amongst the rest, he observed that Sappho seeing some Papers upon the Table she blushed, and hasted to put them into a Box half open, which her haste perhaps made her forget to shut again. And Tysander having drawn her to the window (under pretence of a fine prospect to talk a little in private with her) she had not time to shut it close, Phaons' jealousy was upon the Rack to see these papers which made her blush, and which she was so hasty to put up. So that to lose no time, whilst Tysander was talking with Sappho, and whilst others were looking upon the Pictures in her Closet, he went gently to the Box, and took out the papers. After which not being able to stay in that place he went into the Chamber again, to see whether he ought to keep them, or put them where they were.  
He no sooner opened the Paper, but he saw they were Verses, and verses written with Sappho's own hand So as not judging he could have conveniency of reading them in that place without interruption and seeing by the first words that they deserved his curiosity, he went out of the house, and went to walk alone in a Garden which was by the Sea side, and which was always open to all Comers, as soon as he was there, he opened the paper, and there read these verses, which I am now going to show you, for I had them, as he had them that is, without the name of that Person for whom they were made, as you may perceive by the Copy.  

My pain is great; extreme is my delight:  
I muse all day; I sleep not in the night:  
To say I am in Love, I cannot yet,  
But yet I'm sure, this doth resemble it.   

One only object takes up all my mind;  
In nothing else can I a pleasure find:  
If this be it, to have a wounded heart,  
there's none can be more sensible of smart.   

My soul is set on fire by certain Rays;  
The Sun less pleaseth in the chillest days:  
No eye as yet doth see my flame; but sure  
Fire has no heat in't more than I endure.   

When I see— then my soul's at ease  
He out of sight, there's nothing can me please:  
Perhaps he is my vanquisher; but yet,  
I will be ignorant of my defeat.   

All that he says, seems full of charms to me;  
And in his silence, no felicity,  
Hast thou laid down thy Arms, oh heart so brave?  
I cannot tell, but I believe I have.   
After the Queen of Pontus had read these lines, she restored them unto Democedes, conjuring him to tell her what operation these verses had in the spirit of Phaon.  
I understand since from himself, Madam (replied Democedes, and continued his relation) that these verses did raise such a storm in his heart, that He was half an hour before he could begin to read them again, though he had a great desire unto it: for though he did believe that Sappho either was then in Love, or had been in love, yet he did not believe it so confidently, but he was strangely surprised to see it under her own hand: But at last beginning to read these verses over again, and finding them more amorous the second time than the first, he was so transported with fury, that he thought to have torn them all in pieces and thrown them into the Sea. And as he was just ready to do it, a fancy came into his head which prevented him, which was, to consider whose Name of all those who used to frequent Sappho's company, did most concur and suit with the verse, in that blank which was left for it. For he conceived (notwithstanding his fury) that if Sappho would have given him any other name then his own, she would have writ it down in her verse. So he concluded, and rationally, that the name which would fit the verse was the name of him for whom they were made: therefore looking again upon those four verses where it was written.  

When I see— then my soul's at ease;  
He out of sight, there's nothing can it please:  
Perhaps he is my Conqueror, but yet,  
I will be ignorant of my defeat.   
He began to consider what name would make up the verse: but he was there at a great puzzle. For that of Tysander was too long a syllable: That of Nicanor the like, and mine was longer then either. Phaon fond, that the name of Alces was the just length for the verse, but his love of the fair Athys was so well known unto all the world, and it was also well known that he was Tysanders' confident, that this made no impression upon his mind. Afterwards, he examined the Names of all the men of Rank which used to visit Sappho, but found none which fitted the verse, because they were all too long, also he examined the names of all those who did not visit her, neversomuch as thinking of his own. For since he knew that Sappho had made those verses which caused his first jealousy before he knew her, he never dreamt that those which had caused him so much sorrow, would have caused much joy, had he known the cause: and he was far from any such thoughts as that he had never examined whether his own name did fit the verse, when I accordingly came unto him. But Madam, the wonder was, to see Phaon, who since his fantastical jealousy looked very much a squint at me, now become very kind again, because my name did not fit the verse, so as he accosted me with his accustomed freedom; and took me for his confident as familiarly as if I had never caused any of his jealousy. And he no sooner saw me, but coming to me, since we are both in the wrong (said he unto me and embraced me) I beseech you my dear Democedes, let us forget what's past, and begin our amity a new, for now I plainly see I was in the wrong in thinking it was you who had taught Sappho to know all the delicacies of Love, and I can make it appear unto you that you were in the wrong to believe, she was not in love. Is it possible (said I unto him) That you should have such clear testimonies of it, as cannot be doubted? You shall quickly see that (said he) by reading these verses which I stole from her, you know her stile and her hand, and happily may guess at the name of him for whom they were, made, for my mind is so full of perplexities, that I confess I cannot guess at him; After this, I begin to read Sappho's verses, but in reading them I found at the very first, that the name of Phaon filled up the verse, and I remembered so many passages which had made me believe that Sappho did not hate him, as I made no doubt but that they were made for him, and I did the more believe it, because I could not find any name except that of Alces which did run right in verse, and as for Alces I knew it could not be him, so as intending to comfort him, for my part (said I) I see no such difficulty in finding out a name which will fitly fill up the blank in the verse, and I am confident the fair Sappho did intend it thus.  

When I see Phaon then my soul's at ease  
He out of sight, there's nothing can me please  
Perhaps he is my vanquisher, but yet  
I will be ignorant of my defeat.   
Ah Democedes (cried he out) 'tis true indeed, my name does fit the verse, but the verse fits not me, and I cannot choose but wonder how you should so suddenly think upon my name. As for my part, did not so much as think upon it whether or no my name was Phaon. However this accident adds no comfort unto me, for all these excellent, tender, amorous and passionate Copies of the fair Sappho's were all written before I ever knew her, and therefore it is to be thought they were made for some other happy one who has the felicity to teach her all the tenderness of Love, in making himself Loved.  
For my part (replied he) I know not whether I be mistaken; but me thinks those Characters do not look as if they had been long writ. But I am the most mistaken man in the world if these verses were not made for you, and if you in lieu of being the most miserable, are not yet the most happy Lover in the world.  
How? (said he) do you think Sappho could love me and I not perceive it? and that a man who looks upon her every minute; observes all her Actions and all her words, and does all he can to guess her thoughts, should not he see she loves him? Ah Democedes, this is impossible, and it is but too true, that these verses were never made for me. As he said so, we heard a great noise of many people talking, and turning about, we saw coming towards us, the Prince Tysander, leading Sappho who had with her all her friends, Nicanor, Alces and many others. So as restoring back the verses unto Phaon, he hastily put them in his pocket. But Sappho having observed that Phaon left them abruptly, she began to chide him, and chid him in such a gallant manner for preferring solitude before such good company, that he was obliged to walk along with them, and so we both did, though we had no great fancy unto it, for she was very pensive, and I had some other business. But at last, we came unto the end of the Garden which was towards the Sea, where we found a Bark, into which we went, and chance placing Phaon very near Tysander and Sappho, he plainly saw the verses were not made for that Prince, for Sappho did not answer him with so much as one favourable look, but was so cold and hollow towards him, as it was easy to see there was no great sympathy of hearts. In the mean time, he was so taken up with his own thoughts, that he had no share in the general conversation.  
That which I had said unto him coming often into his imagination he often sweetly flattered up himself, but presently after beginning to think upon the amorous expressions which Sappho used, and that they were written before he knew her, his jealousy revived; So as passing from hopes to fears, he entertained himself, and talked unto none, he fell into a deep study and leaning over the Bark, he looked attentively upon that bubbling froth which is always at the Prow of those Barks which sail swiftly. Phaon was too dear in the esteem of Sappho, for her not to observe his pensiveness, so as she both took notice of him, and caused others to take notice also. But amongst the rest, Tysander who knew Phaon was in love with Sappho, and that Sappho did not hate Phaon, he kept a very observant eye upon him, endeavouring to find out, why he was so melanchollick, and if it were possible to find what the cause was, because he was in Sappho's disfavour, or else whether it was only because he was too much in love with her. So as looking upon him no less than upon Sappho, It unhappily fell out that Phaon in taking something out of his pocket, not knowing what he did, and without interrupting his musing, he pulled out Sappho's verses also which fell at the feet of Tysander, who seeing them fall, stooped and unperceivedly took them up: But Madam after he had read them, he was no less pensive than Phaon, for in a thought that he was his Rival, he feared to find that which he would not have sought, but in hopes not to find it.  
In the mean time, Cydnon seeing that Phaons' musing troubled Sappho, she began to speak unto him, and and ask him the cause, which you may well imagine he would not tell her. But Sapho's verses running much in his mind, he put his hand in his pocket to feel whether they were there; though he doubted it not; for it is very customary for those in Love to do many things which they would not do, were their reason free: Phaon then finding them not in his pocket, was strangely amazed when he saw that he had them not: Yet he durst not express his wonder, nor say he had lost them; for if he had, he had acquainted Sappho with his thievery, and should have been extremely ashamed. Moreover, not knowing certainly whether he lost them in the Garden, or in the Bark, or whether they were fallen into the Sea, he durst not make Hue and Cry after his loss, especially for Sapho's sake, and her concernment: For though he was very jealous, yet he was very respective of her, and her glory was more considerable unto him, than his own tranquillity: so as he contented himself with looking all about him, not telling what he looked for: but as he was very earnest in it, though he did endeavour to do it without any affectation, Tysander knew very well that what his Rival had lost did wring him at the heart, and that what he had found would perhaps be a sad satisfaction of his doubts. But at last, our Maritime diversion being ended, we waited upon the Lady's home, and conducted also the Prince Tysander unto his Lodging; who as soon as he was there, went into his Closet, opened the Paper which he found, and read those verses which troubled him, as much as they had his Rival.  
But Madam, he was not so much puzzled as his Rival was, to find out the name which was to fill up the imperfect verse; for he never doubted, but that Phaon was the name, and he believed also, that Sappho had given these verses unto his Rival, with her own hand, and that the knot of affection between them, was already so fast tied, that nothing could unloose it: You may imagine Madam, how vexatious were these thoughts unto him, and he said since, that never any thing in his life did more trouble him: Phaon on the other side was far from any quietness of mind; for maugre his jealousy, he was extremely sensible of Sappho's reputation, who was in as great a perplexity as he was: For Madam, this excellent Lady did so repent of leaving those verses in danger of being seen, that as soon as ever she returned home, she went into her Closet with intentions to burn them, and never to make any of the like nature again; but she was much surprised and afflicted, when she could not find them in the place where she put them: She would not trust unto her memory, but searched in all other places, where there was any possibility of their being, but at last concluding that questionless they were stolen from her, she was so extremely afflicted, that never in all her life she was the like.  
However, in this perplexity of spirit, she could not imagine a wish more sweet, then that it might be Phaon who had taken away these verses, though she was much ashamed he should ever see them, for being ignorant of his jealousy, she imagined he would apply them unto himself, but though she wished it, yet she could not hope it was Phaon who had them, because she saw him so sad, she could not suspect him.  
And remembering that he went from her house immediately after Tysander came into her Closet, she could not think he had time enough to commit the theft, so that not knowing whom to suspect, she was infinitely troubled.  
On the other side, Tysander seeing by these Verses that Sappho loved Phaon, and not doubting but that his Rival had received these verses from the hand of his Mistress, and that the knot of their affections was undissolvably tied, he resolved to overcome his passion, but to carry his respects of Sappho as far as possible: And though Alces was his Confident, yet he did not show him these verses.  
'tis true, he was three whole days in consulting upon this resolution, during which time he did not see Sappho, who for her part avoided all company as much as she could for fear of hearing of these verses.  
On the other side, Phaon durst not see her; for he perceived, it would be impossible for him not to give her many testimonies o● his troubles, pensiveness, and jealousy. Nicanor, he was so puzzled to find out the reason why these two Rivals and his mistress should be all so solitary at one time, that he was no less unquiet than they were.  
But at last, Tysander striving with himself, he was Conqueror, and sent unto Sappho, to desire a private Conference, about some business of concernment; Sappho not daring to deny him by reason of his quality, consented; but it was with regret, because she feared his business was about the Verses: Not but that she thought it impossible it should be him who took the Verses out of her Closet, for she had him always in her eye, but her fear was, some other had given them unto him.  
In the mean time, this hour of audience being come, Tysander went to Sappho, without any one to wait upon him; but in Lieu of accosting her as usually, he saluted her with a faint, and serious civility, though with much respect, which did infer unto her, that he had some angry business to impart: None but they being in the Chamber, Tysander had the freedom of talk, so as losing no time, I come now Madam, (said he unto her) to render you the greatest testimony of my love that ever any did, by restoring unto you those verses which Phaon lost, and which you gave unto him: And truly, any other besides myself would in revenge of your cruelty, have showed them unto all the world; but my respects of you are so great, that notwithstanding your rigour, I am afraid to displease you, and would gladly preserve your esteem, though I cannot obtain your affection.  
In saying so, Tysander gave Sappho those verses which she made for Phaon his Rival, he gave them open, and let her see how he had supplied the blank with the name of Phaon. You may well imagine Madam, that Sappho did not take these verses without a blush, yet after a little recollecting herself, she attempted to do two things at once: The first, absolutely to disengage Tysander from her affection: And the second, to persuade him, that these verses were made, neither for Phaon in particular, nor for any other in general.  
But all her Sophistry, her Rhetoric, and her Arguments, could not reach half of her desires, for though she did disengage Tysander from loving her, yet she could not make him believe, that these verses were made for any other then Phaon. She could not persuade him, but that she gave them unto Phaon with her own hand though she told him true, when she said he stolen them from her. No, no Madam; (said Tysander to her) you can never persuade me to it, for she who can give a heart, may well give verses; one may sometimes give a heart (replied Sappho) and yet give nothing else: And this circumstance which you so much undervalue, is so considerable to me, that there is no comparison between my making verses for Phaon, and giving them unto him with my own hand: Suppose I had a very strong inclination to him, it would be no such wonder, if I should tell myself the thoughts of my own heart; and though it be a weakness, yet it thwarts not the Laws of modesty, since none should know it but myself: But Sir, you have done me so great a wrong in accusing me, of giving these verses unto Phaon, and you think so strangely of me, that I wonder you have not divulged them unto all the word, for if I were so indiscreet as to give these verses unto Phaon, I were also unworthy of so much discretion in you.  
However, I give you thanks for restoring them, and conjure you to tell me truly how you came by them, for since I hold no particular correspondency with Phaon, I cannot know it from any but yourself: Oh Madam, replied Tysander, my actions do not merit this incredulity: yet since perhaps Phaon will not tell you that he lost those verses which he should so carefully have kept, I will tell you that I saw them fall out of his pocket, that evening when we took the air upon the Sea, and I took them up, not knowing they included the sentence of my death. Phaon was so sad that evening (replied she) as me thinks you may be persuaded, I did not give these verses unto him, and that he did not think they were made for him. For to tell you truly, the conquest of Sappho's heart, is not so easy a matter, as that he should have the vanity, to think he hath done it: or to be joyed at it.  
However it be Madam, (said Tysander) I am most confidently persuaded that Phaon is as much loved as I am hated, and if I had not more respective thoughts of you than ever any ill treated Lover had, I should find means how to send back Phaon into Sicily.  
But since it would be in vain to banish him out of this isle, because I cannot banish him out of your heart, I will not, Madam, be your Tyrant, after I have been your Slave: But Madam, in acknowledgement of my respects, I beseech you be sincere, and ingeniously confess the true state of your Soul, as I have▪ mine unto you, to the end I may leave you at rest, and endeavour to recover mine. Sir, (replied Sappho and blushed) if I were able to give you my affection, as I am my esteem, doubtless I should, in acknowledgement of your generosity; but to be sincere with you Sir, there hath been ever such a powerful obstruction in your design of obtaining my Love, that do what I can, I shall never be able to remove it: And after this Sir, be satisfied, and ask me no more, for since I cannot love you, it concerns not you whether ever I love Phaon or no. I do not ask the question for any further clearing of my knowledge Madam, (replied he) for I do not at all doubt it; but I ask it only, that I may once more in my life commend you, I beseech you Sir (replied Sappho) do not persist in a thing so unjust, and impertinent; but content yourself, that I tell you, I cannot love you, and that I do not perceive in Phaon the same impossibility of loving him, as I do of you: That is enough Madam, (said he and rise up,) to make me the most miserable of men, yet since I am fully resolved to respect you for ever, I will not do what I am able to break down violently that wall which separates me from your affection: I will only wish in parting from you that you may hereafter know, though you have given your heart unto the most accomplished of all your Lovers, yet you have not given it unto the most faithful, and most amorous.  
After this Madam, Tysander, went away, but with so much sadness in his looks, that Sappho, as insensible as she was to him, did feel her heart was a little moved. But since there were then such things in agitation. as did move it much more, she thought more of Phaon, than Tysander, and she had a fresh subject for those thoughts, by a visit which my sister made unto her.  
For be pleased to know Madam, hat I seeing Phaon in such a gulf of sorrows, and having myself a great desire to know truly whether these verses which had caused so much disorder, were made for Phaon, as I thought they were, I went unto Cydnon, with whom I lived; not only as with a most dear sister, but as with a most faithful friend, and as a great secret, I told her of my friend's jealousy; of the adventure of the verses, and conjured her to tell me whether they were made for Phaon. If they were made for any one, replied she, certainly they were made for him: but Brother, I know nothing of them, nor did Sappho ever show me the verses you speak of. However (said I unto her) the poor Phaon who thinks they were made for some other, is so extremely jealous and sad, that I think he will die, unless you help me to assist & comfort him. Truly brother (replied she) it is not an easy matter to be done, for Sappho who seldom keeps any secret from me, never mentioned this adventure: And I do not see how I can speak unto him unless he speak unto me: 'Tis true (added she) that I have hardly seen her two minutes since we were upon the Sea: But I will promise you to see Sappho, and do Phaon any good Office I can.  
After this I did aggravate the jealousy of this Lover as much as I could, purposely to make them pity his misery: but the more I spoke, the more I saw she had a mind to laugh; for she knowing all Sapho's thoughts of Phaon, she was so tickled to think that he himself should be the beloved Rival which so much afflicted him, as for her heart she could not forbear. Cruel sister (said I unto her) I did not acquaint you with the miseries of my friend for you to laugh at them, I assure you he deserves more pity than laughter. If I thought so brother (replied she) I should not laugh: But since I know Phaon has no Rival whom be need to fear, I must confess I cannot choose but laugh at his ill-grounded sorrows: For it is as good sport as possible can be, to observe the follies of the wisest men, when they are once engaged in a business of this nature: And therefore I pray pardon this natural disposition of mirth, when I meet with such occasions as this, and believe that I will do Phaon all the offices of a friend I can. And indeed Madam, as soon as she was gone, she went unto Sappho, and came thither about a quarter of an hour after Tysander went away: so as Sapho's mind being full, and desirous to unburthen it unto her sister, she called her into her Closet: and giving orders that none should come unto her, she conjured Cydnon to pardon her for withholding a secret from her three days together; for truly my dear Cydnon (said Sappho unto her, after she had told her the adventure) never any thing in all my life did so cruelly vex me: and nothing was more intolerable to me, then that Tysander should see any verses of such a nature: nor nothing more terrible to me, than to think that Phaon should have read them.  
For my part (continued she) I do not think I shall be able to see him: and I have seen none these three days, purposely to avoid meeting with him; not but that I sometimes wished it might be he who should find these verses; but I wished it when I thought he had them not: Yet now it is otherwise with me, and I had rather a hundred others had seen them then Phaon, for how dare I ever look him in the face after such a peevish adventure? The truth is, I have reason to fear, that his trusting unto the affection which I bear unto him, will now talk to him with less respect, and will think his Conquest so easy, that it is no glory unto him. If you have any cause of fears (replied Cydnon) it is not at any thing you have said: And to testify how absolutely I am devoted yours, Madam, I will betray a secret unto you which a Brother hath entrusted me withal. And acquaint you that Phaon is the most miserable, and the most jealous of all men living He is not then in Love with me (replied Sappho and blushed) he is more in Love with you (replied Cydnon) than ever any was: but he is so jealous, and in such a fantastical manner, as I know not how you can cure him. This Aenigma is so obscure, answered Sappho, that it passeth my understanding when I have expounded it (replied she) you will better understand it, but your astonishment will not be a jot the less: For on that day when you showed Phaon and Democedes your verses, Phaon found in them such passionate expressions, as he concluded most certainly you either were in Love, or had been, and that it was impossible any living should write so tenderly, unless they had been in Love; so as this odd fancy being in his head, he hath since suffered most incredible afflictions, and hath done nothing else but hunt out after this supposed Rival, who hath inspired you with such tenderness in your verses.  
But I beseech you Cydnon (said Sappho and interrupted her) tell me seriously whether all this you tell me be not some quibble of your own wit? No no, replied she, there is nothing truer than what I tell you: For the miserable Phaon is so possessed with this imagination, that in lieu of applying them unto himself, or rejoicing at his good fortune, he is carefully examining what names suits best with that blank which was left in a verse: and for my part, I have such merry Conceptions upon this passage, that did I not see you very pensive, I should laugh heartily: However I beseech you seriously to find out some way how to cure poor Phaon of his jealousy; for my Brother represents him in such a miserable condition, that he deserves some help and succour. I perceive then (replied Sappho) that Democedes hath seen these cruel verses which make me so ashamed: And that though I have told Phaon a hundred times, if ever I admitted of any Lover, he should never have any Confident; yet I see that I am like to have as many Confidents of my weakness as there are men in Mytelene. Not but that I know very well (continued she very obligingly) Democedes is very discreet: but for all that Cydnon confess the truth, did not he guess at the name better than Phaon? He did not tell me (replied she) but I assured him that either these Verses were intended for none, or else that they were intended for Phaon. For he being his particular friend, I thought thereby the more to engage his discretion, and to keep him from further enquiry into a business of which I promised to give him an account.  
But Cydnon (replied Sappho) what account can you give him which will be advantageous unto me? For to tell him that I love Phaon, is horrid unto me: To swear that I love him not, will make him believe I love another: and to protest that I love none (considering the fancy which Phaon hath in his head) will augment his jealousy and not justify me: However I wish I could find out an expedient which would prevent his jealousy which would preserve his affection, which would hide mine from Democedes, and which would only let Phaon guess at mine: For my part (replied Cydnon) considering the language of my brother, I think it will be a very hard matter to cure Phaon of his jealousy, unless you will acquaint him with your tenderness of him: Fie fie Cydnon (replied Sappho) I had rather he should continue eternally jealous, than that he should see all my weakness.  
Then you care not for preserving his heart (answered Cydnon) for you know better than I do, that long jealousy smothers love. The foundation of Phaons' jealousy hath so little solidity in it (replied Sappho) that I cannot think it will last long. Nay on the contrary (answered my sister) since it hath no foundation, it is harder to drive away: As for example, if Phaon were positively jealous of Nicanor, then there no way but to treat Nicanor ill, and see him no more, to make his jealousy cease: but since he is jealous only because you have written your verses in such tender and passionate strains as might persuade one a little that you are in love, it is impossible you should ever cure him; but by giving him some cause to think you have none but him, and to let him think that the verses he hath seen belongs to him. As I did guess at his affection to me before he told me of it (answered she) so let him guess if he can at the tenderness I have to him: For if he do not, he shall never know it for me. But yet (said Cydnon) must he not know any thing more concerning that verse which wants a name? Is it not enough (replied she) that he says that the names of all others (who are in any likelihood of loving me) does not suit with it, and that his doth? is not this enough to make him understand, that either they were made for none, or they were made for him?  
If his fancy were not prepossessed (replied Cydnon) doubtless what you say were sufficient: but as the constitution of his mind is, if the conservation of Phaon be dear unto you, something else must be done, and you must permit my brother at the least to give him some comfort and hopes in his misery. Provided he could do it without giving any suspicions of my consent (replied Sappho) Democedes may tell him what he will to persuade him I am not in Love with any; for I had rather Phaon should think I love him, then to think I will permit any other to love me.  
After this, Sappho told Cydnon all that Tysander said unto her: Thus you see (said she unto her) that Phaons' Rival is better informed of my sorrows for him, than he himself is. The truth is Cydnon (continued she) my fate is very strange, for Tysander knows that I do love Phaon, and he knows it so certainly that he hath abandoned me upon it: And Phaon on the contrary is ready to quit me, because he thinks I love another and not him, so as being, (as if it were) a Rival, unto himself, he doth himself more hurt than all his Rivals, and hath brought in unto the most strange conjecture that ever a person of my humour could be. For women ought never to say that they are in Love, but only that they are loved. Therefore Cydnon we must submit the adventure unto fortune. But take heed Madam, replied she, you do not repent of what you have said. If I do repent of what I have said (replied she) I shall not do any more than what I have done a thousand times since I first knew Phaon, for I have repent I ever desired Democedes to bring me acquainted with him, I repented that ever I spoke unto him, that ever I loved him, and that ever I composed those unhappy verses which caused this last disorder, and to tell you my thoughts plainly I repent of all I ever said or did since I was first taught to speak; And if I should keep Phaon by any endeavours which are unworthy of myself, I should repent eternally, and to tell you truly if I should lose him by my too scrupulous severity I should repent it till my death.  
This Madam was the temper of Sappho's mind when my Sister talked with her, so as knowing very well that she would give her consent unto Phaons' cure of jealousy; by any ways which might not engage her too far, she would press her no further, and as soon as she saw me, she told me that Phaon was to blame, that I should advise him to see Sappho as soon as he could, and that most certainly he had no reason to fear any Rivals. But Madam, the strangest passage in all this renconuter was, that Sappho mind was taken up with so many various thoughts, that she never thought of any anger against Phaon, for being so bold as to take these verses out of her Closet.  
However Cydnon transacted so well with me, and I with Phaon, that though he did not positively believe all I told him, yet he resolved to go unto Sappho, and to go with intentions of telling her the very bottom of his soul: yet in the interim, a chance happened which changed his mind.  
For an universal report went about all Mytilene, that Tysander was resolved to see Sappho no more. Phaon imagining that the Prince would never have quit▪ her, unless he had discovered that she was in love with some one, his, jealousy renewed, and broke of his first design. Not but that he had reason to believe of Tysander as he did, but he did not know that it was himself who dis●engaged that Prince from the love of Sappho: But at last after he had passed over two days in this uncertainty, he resolved again to go unto Sappho, and discover unto her the▪ grandeur of his Love, and the violency of his jealousy: and indeed he went unto her the next day so early, that he found none with her.  
It is an easy matter to tell you Madam, the resentments of these two persons: For Sappho was ashamed of her own weakness and pitied the weakness of Phaon: and this Lover had so many several resentments, as it is impossible to represent them, for he told me that his love and his jealousy re-doubled, and yet also he had some reviver of his hopes. But at last, having saluted each other with equal agitation of spirits, Phaon asked Sappho pardon for being so long from her. But Madam, (said he) I know not, whether after I have asked pardon for not seeing you, I should also ask it for seeing you: For I am come with a resolution to talk of so many things, as that I am afraid of talking something which shall displease you, though I am resolved to say nothing that shall be unworthy of that love and respect which I have unto you.  
Sir, replied she, we have had so few occasions of any quarrels since we were acquainted, that I know not what you can say otherwise. I must ask you Madam, replied he, whether I was not much to blame in being the most jealous man alive? I must conjure you to talk sincerely with me; I must beseech you to have compassion upon my weakness; To examine well the passion which caused it, to ponder all the reasons which may excuse my jealousy, and if it be possible, not to drive me unto despair.  
All these, replied Sar●●, do argue, that there is such a great disorder in your mind, as I should out of pity do that, which in reason I ought not to do, if I did hearken unto the exact Rules of Justice and decency. And therefore I will hearken unto your complaints, and let you speak of your jealousy though I cannot endure you should speak of your Love. Speak then Phaon, (said she again unto him) and tell me of whom you are jealous? I know not Madam (said he unto her) but I am sure, that sometimes I think I have all imaginable causes. For Madam you have such passionate expressions in your writings, as you must of necessity have been sensible of them yourself. And you have made such verses which I was so bold as to steal away, as have cost me a million of sighs, and perhaps will cost me my life, if you of your goodness will nor apply a remedy to cure me: But what remedy (said Sappho) will cure you? you must persuade me (replied he) that you have loved none, and that if ever you love any it shall be the unfortunate Phaon. But Madam, since this is an impossibility, I will not ask it, but will positively ask you the true state of your soul, and will ask you the name of him for whom you made those verses which I was so presumptuous as totake out of your Closet.  
To answer in general unto all you ask, (replied she) I must tell you, that I did write so passionately, because naturally, I have a tender soul, and I assure you afterwards, that if I have made any jealous, yet certainly it ought not to have been you. For I will tell you for mine own honour, as much as for your tranquillity, that I loved none, the same day you came unto Mytelene, and I assure you further, that I have done nothing since which should make you jealous: And to testify the truth of what I say, I will give you leave to observe all my actions, all my words, and all my very looks, and if after that you find any cause of jealousy, then be so, even unto fury; and be persuaded that in permitting you to be jealous I have done more for you, than ever I did for any.  
Since Madam, you cannot permit me to be jealous (replied he) unless you permit me to be in love, I must give you most humble thanks for that permission, as for the greatest favour in the world; yet I should be much more obliged, if you would be pleased to tell me whom you are pleased I should love, then to give me leave to be jealous? And therefore, tell me Madam, I beseech you, whether I may hope, that you will ever be so tender unto me as you know most admirably well how to express? should I not be too presumptuous in pretending unto those verses which so cruelly have made me jealous? But Madam, before I can believe such a glorious assurance, you must be very sincere: you must tell me more than what yet you have; you must show me your heart, as I have showed you mine; and you must not keep back any secret of your soul, before I can know you. Though you have loved one before I had the honour to be known unto you, yet I have no reason to complain: Not but that I wish with a most passionate desire, that I were the first who entered into your heart: but yet if that happiness be not possible however I shall esteem myself very happy in being the successor of that most happy Rival.  
Speak then, Divine Sappho, and tell me whether I must be jealous? whether I must be happy? or whether I must be miserable? and to tell me in two fatal words, whether must live or die? Phaon expressed himself in an Air so full of reverend respect, he had in his voice such a kind of rhetorical tone; and he looked upon Sappho in such a submiss and passionate manner, that this fair one not being able treat such a Lover ill whom she had a mind to preserve, she spoke unto him so discreetly that without telling him she loved him, she did re-animate his hopes, did dissipate his jealousy, augment his passion, and filled his soul full of joy.  
Indeed these two Lovers, who in beginning their discourse knew hardly what to say, and who had a thousand thoughts in in their hearts which they thought should never be revealed, yet at last imparted all, and made such a sincere exchange of all their most secret thoughts, that all in the heart of Sappho, passed into the soul of Phaon, and all that was in the soul of Phaon passed into the soul of Sappho. Also they agreed upon the Articles and Conditions of their Love. For Phaon promised Sappho which desired it, never to desire any thing of her, but the enjoyment and possession of her heart: And she promised him also, never to receive any unto her heart, but him.  
After this, they told each other all the particular passages of their Lives. And ever since Madam, there hath been such an admirable union between these two persons as never were their equals seen; the love of Phaon augmented with his happiness, and the affection of Sappho became more violent, by the acquaintance she had of the greatness of her Lovers Love. Never were two hearts seen more united; nor ever did Love join two together, with more purity and zeal.  
They communicated unto each other all their thoughts, and they understood one another without telling them; they saw in each others eyes, the motions of of their hearts, and saw them all so tender and passionate unto each other, that the more they looked, the more they loved: yet the peace between them was not so solidly established but they had some amorous wars, and though they loved as much possible, yet they would sometimes complain that they loved not enough, but there was never any such civil wars as did disturb the Halcyon Serenity of their Loves.  
In the mean time, ever since this conjunction of hearts between Phaon and Sappho, Nicanor hath been in a miserable condition, and Tysander esteemed himself as happy as prudent, in dis-engaging himself from his passion. The truth is, he cured himself by another beauty; for Pittacus being resolved to marry him unto the fait Alcionide, he went to Gnides, where she was, and where he fell as much in love with her as with Sappho, but for his love to the one, he still preserved much esteem for the other.  
In the mean time, Charaxes the brother of Sappho, who took it ill she should refuse the affection of Tysander, and admit of Phaons', went to travel, and departed without taking his leave, or bidding adieu to any. On the other side, though Nicanor did still most passionately love Sappho, and horridly hated Phaon, yet he offered no violence unto either: For such was the admirable discretion of Sappho, in keeping every one within the limits of their due respects, and in uniting the most divided spirits, that though she could not make them perfect friends, yet she kept them from down right quarrelling. All this while Phaon being assured, that he was preferred before all his Rivals, he was not jealous of any: And indeed he was highly happy in it; for Sappho caused so many to be in love with her, that Alces himself, as deeply in love as he was with the fair Athys, began to waver and divide his heart: And except Themistogenes, who could not love any which did not resemble Damophile, there was not one man of any soul or quality, who had not some sparks of Love unto Sappho.  
For my part, being Phaons' choice, and particular friend, I ever defended myself against her Arrows, and was never down right in love with her, but I had so much affection unto her, as kept me from loving any other.  
In the mean time, this universal approbation of Sappho, incensed all the Ladies who pretending unto high beauty, had hardly any adorers, whilst Sappho, whose modesty would not let her think she had any, was environed with a crowd of them. But the wonder was, that this most rare woman, without the least digression from that fidelity she owed unto Phaon, did still maintain her sovereignty in the souls of all her Lovers: For behaving herself so discreetly, that none of them ever said any thing unto her, which she would not have them, she never had any cause to complain against them, and by consequence had no cause to banish them from her: Not but that Phaon would some days complain a little against such a crowd about her, but when she gave him to understand; that prudence required he should hide himself among the crowd, because if she should banish them, she should banish him also, or else her glory would suffer diminution, than Phaon was contented to endure all the Lovers of Sappho, who durst not appear under any other notion than that of friends.  
For my part, I have wondered a hundred times at that power, which Sappho had over her slaves: For though there was not one of them, who did not know that she loved Phaon, and Phaon only, yet there was not one of them who was out of hopes, though she gave them not the least ground: And though they all hated Phaon, yet they neither durst, nor could hurt him: Nor did they jar among themselves, for since they could be jealous of none but Phaon only, they grew into a kind of confidence together.  
Thus, the Loved, the Lovers, the Lover loved, and the ill treated Rivals, all were together, without the least contest that was troublesome unto our society; and which was most admirable, Sappho in the midst of this crowd, did find out ways to give Phaon a thousand testimonies of her affection to him, and unperceived to sacrifice all his Rivals unto him. Thus, without doing any thing against the exact rules of civility, and without any allurements, Sappho had the glory to have an infinite number of adorers, and without any of that severity of those faithful Lovers, who constrain themselves so much, that they almost become savage, Phaon and she enjoyed all the sweets of a most pure and innocent Love; for they were none of those who as soon as they are certain of their mistresses, and servants, do use to renounce almost all manner of Gallantry, as if they had been married many a year, for Phaon was as Courtly as humble, and assidious, as if he had yet to conquer that noble heart which he already enjoyed: And Sappho was as exact, and as regularly civil and complaisant, as if her conquest were uncertain. Moreover, Feasts, Pleasures, and Joys, did inseparably follow them: And though they were most assured of each others esteem, yet they did strive with all imaginable cares to preserve it.  
This Madam, was the life which Phaon and Sappho lived, whilst they were happy: yet as the Empire of Love is as subject unto great revolutions, as others are; so this calm, and silken peace, which was in the heart of Sappho, was not perpetual, though it seemed as if it would be eternal For most certain it is, that never Lover had a more perfect heart of expressing much love, than Phaon had, he never saw any in Mytelene, but Sappho: And indeed it may almost be said, that he did scarcely see those who were friends unto his Mistress, though he was continually with her, for his eyes and mind were so wholly fixed upon the admired Sappho, as she could not doubt, but that she was the only soul of his thoughts, wheresoever he was. And since there is nothing more obliging, than to make a difference of a person in the midst of a great company, he knew so well how to oblige Sappho this way when any occasions were offered, as I never in my life, saw his like. Moreover, when he was with her, he seemed so happy, so contented, and so sensible of the least of her favours, as she having absolutely the most tender soul in the world, did think there was nothing desirable which was not in her Lover: She was infinitely charmed with the delicacy of his wit; he had sometimes a certain kind of sweet and melancholy blithness, (if I may so call it) which furnished him with such diverting conceits, as that they cannot be repeated without derogation.  
Moreover, being naturally curious and inquisitive, they had always some amorous wrangle or other which made their discourse more sweet: For sometimes Phaon would needs know why she blushed, sometimes why she mused; and his excessive curiosity went so far that one day, there happened a tender amorous dispute between them, because Phaon asked Sappho, why she was more sweet unto him that day than any other? afflicting himself as much, because she would not tell him, as if she had treated him ill. But Sir, (said she, having no mind to satisfy his obstinate curiosity) sometimes you ask me such trivial questions, with so much good earnestness, that I must needs ask you in my turn, what is the cause of this general curiosity, which causeth us so many petty quarrels? I should not think strange at your curiosity in things essential, and of concernment, but your humour is such, that you are inquisitive of every trifle: Yes Madam (said he unto her) I am so, and ever shall be, of every thing that concerns you, and if I could, I would oblige you to give me an account of all your thoughts, and of all your looks, for Madam, as you have given extreme strait limits unto my desires, and as you have permitted me to aspire no further, than the enjoyment and possession of your heart: how can you think I should be assured of it, if I did not know all the passages in it? and therefore think not strange, I cannot endure you should deny me what I ask; for by acquainting me sometimes why you blushed, why you studied, & why you did not look upon me: you put me into possession of that heart which you have promised me, and you joy me beyond my expressions: And indeed I set a greater value upon one of those little hidden thoughts, which obligingly discover your heart unto me than some would of greater favours who are not capable of all the nice delicacies of Love, therefore Madam I beseech you deny no more, the satisfaction of my curiosity though it ask only trifles of you, and trifles, which seem unto you unreasonable.  
For indeed Madam, (added he, and smiled) Love is a Child, which delights himself in toys, and has innocent fatasmes, so that looking upon my too much cusitie is an effect of the grandeur of my love, I hope you will comply with my weakness, and rather than afflict me by telling me nothing, you will tell me all I shall ask.  
You may judge Madam, after this, that the Love of Phaon was very tender, ingenuous, and gallant: and that loving one who knew the best in the world how to love, and who had a superlative wit, you may imagine they enjoyed a thousand delights, which those of a dull and gross capacity in matters of Love, are ignorant of: Yet sometimes when Phaon considered that Sappho would not marry, and that she was the most virtuous woman in the world, ●he would be something pensive upon the matter: but she knew so well how to dissipate those muddy mist● of melancholy, the cause of which she quickly discovered, as he was forced to confess that he was the happiest Lover alive.  
In the mean time, as I told you before, Nicanor being still in love with Sappho, and Alces wanted but little of it, Jealousy did so seize upon the heart of the fair Athys, and of Nicanor, that in the end it much molested the felicity of these most happy Lovers.  
And the better to let you understand the cause of this alteration, I must acquaint you with a kind of a Feast which Sappho made at a house of hers some hundred furlongs from Mytelene, and which without dispute was the most pleasant let in the Isle: And indeed, all that was desirable in a Country house was there to be found; for it was close by the Sea, and yet was full of the most rare fresh Springs and Fountains that ever were seen. Moreover, it had several lovely Groves, Meadows, Gardens, and Grottoes: The structure also was very stately, so as every Summer Sappho went with Cynegire unto it, and all their friends came to visit them.  
We being all there in that delightful season, which may be termed the youth of the year; and when the first greenness of the herbs and leaves renders the Country most pleasing, Sappho with Cynegire invited all her dear friends, to pass away a whole day with them. But though she invited only friends, yet others also came: For Nicanor, Alces, Phaon, and I waited upon Amithone, Athys, Erinne, and Cydnon: And Chance so ordered it, that the very same day Philire with her two friends and two Adorers of Sappho came thither in the afternoon, not knowing that we were there, so as the company were very frolic that day.  
I shall not relate unto you Madam the particulars of this Feast: only tell you, that though Sappho and her Cousin were dressed only in white, decked with flowers, yet were they so gallant, that a prettier sight could not be seen.  
When we came to Sapho's house, she met us with two of her women in a little thick Grove, in the midst of which is a most admirable Spring, running by the foot of a huge Tree, whose branches were so large and thick, that they did not only overshadow the Fountain, but many seats of Grass also which were about it. Sappho meeting us in this place in such a dress as I mentioned, she received us with such a gallant Air, and in so noble a Garb, that in my life I never saw her so lovely: For she had the fragrancy of the whole Spring in her face, her eyes had the lustre of the rising Sun, when first it appears without a Cloud: and her joys which she expressed at the sight of us, did so visibly glance itself upon us by her lovely looks, as presaged a very pleasing passing away of that day: There was not one in all the company upon whom she bestowed not a very obliging Compliment, and who did not think that she was sweeter unto them then unto others.  
But I, who always had an observant eye upon her, was not so much mistaken as they were; for in the very midst of this tumultuous joy which she expressed at the sight of us, I saw in her fair eyes something so singular towards Phaon when she made her Compliment to him, that those advantageous thoughts which her heart harboured of him were very apparent unto my eye. However, all this jolly company desiring to stay a while in that place, our Coaches went behind the Grove unto Sapho's house, and we stayed to enjoy the delight of that pleasing shade, the agreeable murmur of the Fountain, and pleasant noise of the leaves which an easy gale of wind did whifle.  
This first conversation was something miscellaneous, and passed from object to object: At the first, those Ladies which came from Mytelene, began to commend the beauty of Sappho, and admired how she kept herself from being Sunburnt: Considering that as long as she was in the Country, she was perpetually abroad. Sappho on her side, she gave them such sweet adulatory Language, as custom hath introduced amongst such Ladies as know the World, and are both young and fair.  
After she had asked us all the news of Mytilene, We in our turns asked her all the passages of her solitude; Cydnon chid her for not writing unto her, Erinne for not remembering her, Athys for going away without bidding her Adieu; and all of us together told her that she affected solitude so much, and her absence was such an affliction to us, that we could not any longer endure it, To prove that what you say is true (replied Sappho very sweetly) you must acquaint me how you have spent your time this eight days since I came hither: For if you can make it appear that you do really regret my absence, I believe I shall return with you: but to tell you truly, I am persuaded that you were all full of diversions, notwithstanding my absence. For my part (said Nicanor) I went no whither but unto Pittacus about business of much importance, concerning a friend of mine: And the fair Athys knows very well, that though I am her near Neighbour, yet I never saw her; it is very true indeed (replied she) Nicanor hath been very solitary since your departure: And for my particular (added she very crafcily) I have not been so, for I have seen much company, and walked abroad very often, but for all that I was extreme weary of your absence, and wished for you a hundred and a hundred times: I am sure Phaon who was with me twice when I walked to take the Air, does know that I expressed as much, and that I chid him for being no sadder than he was at your absence.  
I must confess (replied Phaon) that yesterday you chid me, but it was unjustly. For those joys which then appeared in my eyes, were only caused because I was to come hither this day. You have very cunningly recovered yourself out of that net which the fair Athys unawares had like to have entangled you in (replied Alces) but I know not whether you can so well get out of that which I shall put you into, when I shall tell you that the very next morning after Sappho departed, we made five or six visits together, and you were not at all discontented. Sappho, replied he, hath so well taught me to be civil, that I had rather visit none, then say nothing to them: Yet Cydnon whom I saw some 2 or 3 days after, can tell you, that she saw me very melancholy. 'Tis true (replied Amythone) but I know not whether it was at the absence of Sappho, for you were very merry the day before, and was at play, and lost much. Since the fair Sappho knows very well (replied he) that I have no covetous soul, I do not fear she will suspect me for being more sad for what I lost at play, then for the loss of her sight.  
However it be (said she, and both blushed and smiled) I perceive that you had no time to be much discontented; for you have frequented walks, you have made visits, you have been at play, and doubtless have kept your Court with Pittacus, therefore being your friend, I must rejoice you have spent your time so well, but I have little reason to thank you for thinking so little of me. Oh Madam (said he unto her) condemn me not before you hear me: I shall hear you another time (replied she) as for this day, let us, after your example, think upon nothing but jocundry.  
Sappho spoke this with so free an Air, that Phaon was not troubled at it: And indeed, though at the first she thought that Phaon was not much troubled at her absence, yet since she received every day a Letter from him since she came into the Country, she conceived that he did it rather out of prudence than any defect of Love, so as this was no hindrance to her from being very merry all the rest of the day.  
But after this good company had rested themselves a while, & after I had given Sappho an account of what I had done during her absence, she carried us through this pleasant grove unto a garden door which opened into a long walk, which led us unto the porch of the house where Cynegire received us. I shall not make any relation of the furniture in this house, nor of the neatness of our Repast, or of the Aromatic smells which perfumed the rooms, for I will not insist upon such trivials: But give me leave to tell you, that an hour after we were risen from the Table, and were removed into a very pleasant withdrawing Room, next the dining Chamber, Phylire and her Company arrived: So as this increase of good Company, augmented the joys of Sappho; and she behaved herself so nobly unto all in the house, that Phaon being charmed at the sight of her, and not being Master of his passion, he expressed his admiration so openly, that Sappho made a sign unto him, to shut up his wonder in his heart, for he applauded her with such aggravations, he approached her with such earnestness, and looked upon her with so much love, that indeed there was some cause to think (considering his joys in seeing her) that if he had been out of her sight he would have run mad.  
In the mean time, a little after Phylire was come, and had presented all her company unto Sappho; This most admirable Lady told them all that she would show them a place more pleasant than that they were in. And indeed, Cynegere and she carried us through▪ a long close walk in a wood, which appeared so wild and so far from any habitation, as one would have thought it a desert: And at the end of the thickest part of this wood, there was a great Grotto, which nature had begun, and which Art and Sappho's ingenuity had finished; And which indeed is one of the most delightful things in the world. For it was large, it was cool, it was deep, and yet it was light enough; The Rock, had rarity of all Colours, and that which was added unto it, was such an excellent imitation of Nature, as one would think, Art had no hand in it.  
Seats were contrived round about this Grott, and in such a rustic manner as if chance only had been the Contriver, yet were they very easy and handsome, for by a singular artifice one is made believe that the moss which grows there, are Cushions: The little Purling Rivulet which runs through it, by its coolness, renders the place more delectable.  
Besides all this, there were several openings into a second Grott invisible to this other, through which such Voco-ducts were placed, as one might easily hear what one said unto another.  
The place being thus pleasant, Cynegire and Sappho conducted us thither, we were no sooner set, but upon a sudden we heard a most admirable harmony, which came from the second Grott into that in which we were, and which filled it with such Seraphic Airs, as never was a more charming surprise. At first, we thought it was Sappho who appointed this diversion, but she was so astonished also that we quickly perceived it was not she.  
In the mean time, all the Company looked upon Sappho, and she looked upon all the company, but to tell you truly, she no sooner looked upon Phaon, but she knew it to be a piece of his gallantry. He yet would not openly acknowledge it, but it passed for a piece of enchantment all the day, and furnished the Conversation with a very pleasant Subject. But Cynegire being most curious of all the Company, she went out of that Grott with one of the Ladies which came with Phylire, intending to go into the other Grott, and know from the mouths of the Musicians, who sent them, after which, she walked in a solitary Alley not far off. In the mean time, this gallantry of Phaons', caused every one to extol it, and him both, though he said still, that he did not merit any such applause, and that his Gallantry came short of such an entertainment. Phaon (said my Sister unto him) if we should believe you, you were notably trapped; for those who really have gallant souls, do know they have such, and take it ill any should think they have not, and indeed they have reason to insist upon such qualities as makes them prized above others.  
One must have gallant inclinations, (replied Alces and smiled) that can speak as you do, one ought to have Rational inclinations as well as gallant (replied she) for it men do things no otherwise then as I intent they will never please very well. For my part, (replied Amithone) I would very gladly know, in what, this kind of Gallantry consists of which Cydnon speaks: For my particular, (said Phaon and interrupted her) I had much rather we should talk of this then any thing else, for I must confess, I meet with so many scurvy Gallants in this world, who yet do make great progress in the hearts of some Ladies, that true, and really noble Gallants, make not so many conquests as they do. And therefore I would have us begin here a description of bad Gallantry, to the end, that at our return unto Mytelene, we may infuse our Maxims into the minds of all the Town.  
Then it is also requisite (replied Phylire) that you give Laws and Rules unto the noble kind of Gallantry: for it will signify nothing if you should only blame the one, and not teach us the other.  
For my part (replied Sappho) I am such a professed enemy unto all bad gallants, though I do love a gallant Air in all things, and should be ravished with such conversation if it were not in this place; but to tell you truly, (added she and smiled I would not it said in Mytelene, that we assembled here, to make Laws for Love.  
For my part, (replied Phaon) I will talk of nothing else this day. And for my particular (said I) I believe I cannot speak of any other subject. It is indeed so pleasing) (replied Nicanor) that it would be difficult to change it into a better. It is also so necessary (said Alces) that I know not what we should talk of, if not of this.  
We talked of all the news before Dinner, (replied Phaon) we commended the beauty of the place, and we have talked almost of every thing, so as we shall have nothing to do (said Phaon unto Sappho) unless you will let us either commend you, or let us talk of Gallantry. Believe me (replied she) I had rather you should talk of Gallantry, then commend me. Then Madam, replied Phaon, I beseech you give us leave to talk of it all the day, for as my soul is now disposed, I think myself almost as witty as you are when you are out of your good humour. If you be no more (replied she) you would be less gallant than you are. But I beseech you (said the fair Athys unto Supho) tell us how you came to be the most gallant person in the world. I do not intend to accuse you of any Gallantry (continued she craftily) when I say so, but to commend you because you neither do, nor say any thing but with a gallant Air: Though I have not so much vanity as to believe this you say is applicative unto me, (replied Sappho) yet I do think, I know your meaning, and that there is a kind of gallantry without any love, which is sometimes to be used in most serious matters; and which gives an excellent charm unto all that one does, or says.  
In the mean time, this gallant Air I mean does not altogether consist in much wit, much judgement, and much knowledge, but is a thing so particular, and so difficult to be acquired when one hath it not, that one knows not how to learn it, or where to seek it. For I know a man whom all the Court knows, who is very handsome, hath wit enough, who is very magnificent in his attendance, in his house and in his habit, who is able and speaks well, who hath done all that ever he can to get a gallant Air, and who is for all that, the least gallant of all men living, But pray you (said Amithone) what is this gallant Air which is so pleasing? It is I know not what (replied Sappho) which is compounded of a hundred several things: It is a work of Nature infused into the Persons who have it; moreover, much commerce with the World and Court doth help, the Conversation of women also, doth much contribute: And I dare maintain, that never any had an Air of gallantry, who shunned discourse with persons of my own sex; and if I durst, I would say, that before a man can attain unto this gallant Air, he must once in his life have some small inclination unto Love: But take heed, (replied Amithone) that you do not engage yourself to far by speaking as you do, for if it be necessary to have been in love before they can attain this Air of gallantry, it must follow by necessary inference, that a Lady who hath this gallant Air hath loved some or other. No, replied Sappho, for though I do maintain that a man must have hi● heart a little engaged before he can attain this Air, yet I maintain also, that for a Lady to acquire it, it is sufficient if she receive a favourable disposition unto it, from Nature, that she hath seen the World, that she be acquainted with men of parts, and that she have a design to please all in general without loving any in particular. For all that, me, thinks (said the fair Athys) that the word Gallant is too much abused: for I like it well that one should say this is gallantly thought: or this is gallantly said▪ and a thousand such like, whose wit● bears a part in it; but it is not so to say, this habit is very gallant, or that man is very gallantly dressed.  
For my part (said Phaon) I make no such difficulty of it, for it is that gallant air which Sappho, hath in her mind, and in all her person, that makes the dress she wears become her so well; and to prove the truth, one shall see some Ladies at a Ball, who are rarely dressed, and who yet are but ugly in comparison of that simple dress which hath its gallantry from the Person who wears it.  
For my particular, (added Sappho) I think one may put a gallant Air upon all, and that any may keep it as long as they live; but to tell you truly, and to speak in general, this kind of gallantry is the work of another, and must either be in love, or have a natural desire to please before it can be gotten. Not but that as I said before, there are some persons of great rank and quality, who cannot have it, for they want that natural Mould, which puts I know not what kind of spirit, which pleaseth unto things least capable, and infuseth into the most common talk a secret charm which satisfieth, and diverteth: There is I say, I know not what kind of gallant spirit infused into the person which possesseth it, both in his Wit, in his Speech, his Action, and in his Habit: This is it which doth accomplish men, which renders them amiable, and which makes them loved.  
Indeed, there is a kind of Bias or faculty in telling of things, which sets a value upon them, and those who have this faculty, may oftentimes speak of that, which others dare not so much as think, but in my opinion, the gallant Air in conversation, consists principally, in speaking of things in an easy and natural manner: To incline unto more sweetness, and mirth, then unto the serious and sharp, to speak easily, and in apt terms without affectation, there must be also a kind of insinuating and flattering spirit, to subdue the minds of others, and if I could express my meaning well, I would confess unto you, that one cannot be completely amiable without this gallant Air.  
'tis true, said Alces, that it is difficult to please without it; but yet it must be confessed, that those unto whom it is absolutely necessary, are those who make profession of gallantry.  
It is most certain (replied Sappho) that a Lover without this air of gallantry, is a most pitiful thing. And the worst is (continued he) there are an infinite number of young men who are but newly stepped into the world, which believe all gallantry to consist in the most fantastical mode, which some fond foolish Tailor invented, and in being bold and talking much: In going unto all houses whose gates are open, having no business there but to talk of trifles, without either Gallantry, Passion, or Wit.  
There are some (replied Cydnon) who think themselves very gallant men, if they can but say, they have seen all the gallant women in the town, and brag, that I was yesterday with such a one, and the day before with that Lady: I presented a third with a Serenade, I treated Sappho, and all her company with a banquet, I was with another troop of Ladies the day following, and so of the rest.  
These sort which you mention (replied Sappho,) are not in the number of good Gallant for certainly they are very shallow witted, and full of folly; but I am much more afraid of those eternal languishors, who are always telling smooth tales, who are deeply in love with the grey, the black, the brown eyes, with equal fervency: who think they are hugely dishonoured, if they have been an hour with a woman, and not sighed: For my part I cannot endure them, and I am confident, they say nothing unto him which they had not said a thousand times unto others, so as I am not able, either to hearken unto them, or to return an answer. I must confess replied Phaon, these universal sighers are a sort of strange men but we do know some brisk and fiery Lovers, which are no more than they, and all the company knows one, who is in love with a great beauty, who swears all the oaths under heaven, that he loves her more than ever any did or can, that he will die a hundred deaths to do her service, that he will kill all those who dare displease her, and would take it for a great favour if she will bid him go, and kill any man for her service.  
This man is so brutish, (replied Erinne) that he deserves not to be spoke unto; but I would gladly know, what one should think of certain merry gallants, who never talk of Love but in rallary, and yet are always talking of it, who being neither busibodies nor Lovers, are continually walking from place to place, to vent their jocund gallantry, without any other design.  
These greggs seldom stay long in a place, nor do they much trouble me when I meet with them, for some of them divert me; but those who most anger me, are such real busi-bodies as have ten or twelve several intrigues and plots, without a dram of Love in any of them, who have a hundred several businesses, and yet not one.  
I assure you (replied Phylire) those obstinate Lovers who are always melancholy, are never pleasing to me nor themselves; and I know one who is always so sadly sober, that I think him jealous, or that he is thinking of killing his Rival, or poisoning himself. Doubtless there are some such gloomy Lovers, (replied Phaon) who are as displeasing as you think them: But amiable Phylire, there may be some faithful Lovers as sad, who yet are not so troublesome. This is most constantly true (replied Cydnon) that there are very few men who are deeply in love, and very gallant, and who are less pleasing unto others, than they are unto those they love: And though love seems to be but a trifle, yet it is the rarest thing in the world, to find a Lover who can trifle it handsomely. But yet (said I, and addressed my speech unto Sappho) it is not just to examine only the gallants, but it is better to talk of gallantry in general, to the end that the gallantry of Ladies in particular, may also be talked of.  
I assure you (replied Sappho) there are some who are gross in their gallantry, that it would be both a favour and an honour unto them, not to talk of it. Yet I must needs confess, that women are to be blamed for the ill gallantry of men; for if they did but know how to make use of those privileges▪ which belong unto their sex, they would make men right gallants, and would never suffer them to fail in their due respects: Indeed, they would never suffer a hundred uncivil familiarities, which most new gallants would bring into the world, for there is a great interval between a constrained Ceremony and incivility; and if all gallant Ladies did but well understand of the mystery of behaving themselves, their gallants would be more respective, and more complaisant, and by consequence more pleasing. But the worst is, those women who have taken a crochet of gallantry into their heads, do imagine, that unless they be indulgent unto their gallants, they cannot keep them, and all those I speak of do neither care for their own reputation, nor for the advantage of their own gallantry, but only how to take off a Lover from this Lady, to attract this gallant, to preserve another, and to engage a thousand if they could: There are some also (continued she) which do worse, and who keep a hundred private correspondencies ●n lieu of one.  
'tis true, (replied Amithone) I know some women whose gallantry is a very horror unto any of any virtue, and behave themselves so impudently, as it may truly be said, that they make it their glory, which should be their shame; but I am sure their Gallants themselves do scorn them, and as they behave themselves, they will never have any who will esteem them, for men will not hazard their reputations for them. Yet we use to see many men (replied Erinne) who never care for the reputation of those Ladies they love; since they care not for their own (replied Cydnon) I know not how they should care for others. But I beseech you (said Nicanor) is it impossible you should find nothing to say of gallants, and gallantry, but what is ill? I assure you (replied Sappho) it is much easier to speak ill then good of them, considering what a great number of men there are, which will be meddling with things they understand not; yet certain it is, that if Ladies in general, did but know how to manage, it would be possible, to bring into the world such a sprightly, pleasant, and innocent gallantry, as should never be offensive, neither unto prudence nor virtue. Indeed, if Ladies would not value their Lovers, but according to their merits, and not according to their flatteries and favours, the conquest of their hearts being more difficult, than men would be more complaisant, more obsequious, more humble, and more respective than they are; women would be also less interested, less cheaters, less simple, and less dishonoured than they are. So as every one being in their right Sphere, Mistresses Mistresses, and Servants Servants; delights would abound in the world, Politeness would flourish, and true gallantry would be seen in its right colours, than should we never as now we do, hear men talk of women in general with much scorn, nor should we hear them brag publicly of their favours. Then we should not see any women cast off all modesty and shame, though they be the charms of right gallantry; we should never see Ladies quarrelling about a Lover, nor out of mercenery thoughts, sell their hearts as if they were Diamonds: For indeed, if gallantry be at any time allowable it must be, when the gallant cannot be upbraided with anything, but this, that they could not choose but love another, better than themselves.  
As Sappho said so, Cynegire, and the Lady who was walking with her, being returned, the discourse was interrupted, and an humour of walking coming into the general fancy, all the company went out of the Grotto, and went to walk in a shady, long, and large Arbour, and the music following, the spirit of dancing came on them for an hour, which was performed most excellently.  
In the mean time, though it was not likely that Phaon could find any opportunity of privacy with Sappho, at a time when she had so many Compliments to perform unto so many several persons as did her the honourof this visit, yet he met with an occasion; for as every on● had an occasion to walk a little after their dancing, so he presented his hand unto Sappho: And by this means, going more softly than the rest, they did insensibly separate themselves some eight or ten paces from all the company, and talked unto her of his passion, and in such vehement raptures, that Sappho, as difficult as it was to please her in matter of tenderness, was well satisfied with him that day. Indeed, he told her so directly all that she thought he would tell her, and that in such an obliging manner, that she thought him worthy to show him her Joys which she had in his loving her, and yet she chidd him for being so pleasant in her absence: but he answered so well, that she did not think his jocundry proceeded from his inclinations: and indeed he was so extremely joyed at the sight of her, as she could not imagine but he would grieve for her absence: but as sweet as Phaons' company was unto her, she left it, and went unto the rest of the company, who were so well pleased with the place, that they could not part from it until the evening after Supper. Sappho kept Cydnon with her, and the rest promised to write unto her: so that after we were gone, these two Ladies talked a long time together. But on Sapho's side more sadly, because she could not well brook the absence of Phaon, yet was it so sweet a kind of sadness, and did not deject her, nor hinder her from a most excellent discourse unto my sister upon the tenderness of Love.  
The truth is, my dear Cydnon (said she unto her) Love is a most fantastical passion: For though one doth wish nothing more zealously than the happiness of the person they love, yet I should at this time be extremely sorry if Phaon should not as much grieve at his being out of my sight, as I do for being out of his: and sometimes I am so vexed when he is absent from me, that I cannot tell what he does, and what he thinks, that it makes me almost as sad as if I knew certainly that he never thought upon me at all, yet perhaps he entertains such thoughts as would even ravish me with joy if I could know them, and find in Phaons' heart such as are in my own.  
But Madam, whilst Sappho was thus talking with my Sister, all our company were returned unto Mytelene, and returned with such a spirit of joy as I am not able to express, except Nicanor, who was not able to frolic it like the rest, because he was out of hopes of Sapho's love. Perhaps Madam, you will think I was mistaken when I excepted only Nicanor, and that I should have excepted Phaon: But Madam, I must acquaint you how he had such a Fancy as I think never any Lover besides himself had: For Phaon, though he had a most tender and passionate soul, and did love with an inconceivable zeal, yet was his soul seldom sensible of any sorrow; and absence, as harsh as it is unto all other Lovers, seldom much troubled him, though he was as much joyed to be with her he loved, as one knows how to imagine: Indeed I have seen him sometimes with Sappho in such raptures of delight, as were very near an ecstasy, and I have seen him absent from her without any excessive sorrow: Not but that he loved her both present and absent, more than ever any was able to express: but the reason was, because his soul was more sensible of joy then sorrow; and because as soon as he had lost his greatest delight, he would seek out less to comfort himself.  
Indeed his soul was so addicted to follow all that could please him, and to shun any thing that would make him melancholy, as he was sometimes able to be absent from her he loved most, without being very miserable. Yet this did not hinder, but when he saw the person he loved again, he would think himself as happy as if he had never been afflicted: such joys would sparkle in his eyes, and such an unexpressable spirit would spread itself over all his Countenance, as sufficiently testified the satisfaction he had in seeing her whom he adored: so as one could not imagine that a man who could enjoy a happiness with such high delight, could part from it without abundance of sorrow.  
Sappho also is excusable for being so long ignorant, that Phaon tasted only the sweets of Love, without the bitters, for she see him so transported with joys when he was with her, that she might easily imagine him full of sadness when he was from her: For my part, I thought at first, that he did it only out of prudence, the better to hide his love unto Sappho, and that his frolic humour all the way as we returned to Mytelene, was only to blind the company.  
In the mean time, the jolly humour of Phaon increased the sullen humour of Nicanor, he thought that that mirth of his Rival proceeded from the obliging behaviour of Sappho, and therefore he could not hide his joys. As for Athys, her jealousy begetting in her fancy a desire to disquiet Sappho, she remembered the discourse which Sappho and the company had concerning Sapho's diversions during his absence: so as negotiating the business with as much wit as malice, she sent two days after her return, a servant unto Sappho, with a Letter which I needs must acquaint you with, for if I be not much mistaken in it, it was in these Terms.  
ATHYS unto SAPPHO.  
MADAM,  
SInce I cannot forget my promise of writing unto you all the news, I am desirous to acquit myself: But since Mytelene affords little, I must acquaint you with our Journey, which was no less diverting in our return, then in our coming to you; for Phaon and Alces were in the blithest humours in the world: and except Nicanor who was very melancholy, all the rest of the company thought the way very short. Truth is, Phaon and Alces were so full of their Jollities, that I should fill my Letter full of mirth, and swell it into a volume if I should write them all: But since I think it not good to divert you too much in the Country, lest it should keep you too long from satisfying the wishes of your friends by your presence, I will not mention them: Also I am forced to finish my Letter, because I have promised to divert myself in walking with Phaon and Alces, and they do stay for me: I saw so much blithenesse in their faces this morning at the Temple, that I have reason to believe they will be in a very pleasant humour; but for my part, I assure you, I shall take delight in nothing more than in seeing you again.  
ATHYS.  
This Madam, was the Letter of Athys, which doubtless contained in it all imaginable malice; for it hurt Alces, it disquieted Sappho, and it was prejudicial both unto Phaon and Alces, by the good office it did Nicanor. However, this Letter perhaps had not met with its intended success, if Amithone, Erinne, Phylire, Alces, Nicanor, and Phaon, had not written, and mentioned such things as confirmed what Athys had written; for Amithone, after many passages in their Caballa, mentioned that Phaon was more pleasant than ever he was in his life: Erinne for her particular, to prove the tenderness of her affection, did send her word how she could brag, that she was the most melancholy of all the company who had been with her, except Nicanor: And Philire writ, that if the merry humour of Phaon had not been a comfort unto her in her absence since her return, she should have been out of the world. Alces not saying directly that Phaon was either merry or sad, only filled his Letter with many pleasant conceits of Phaons': And as for Nicanor, his Letter was so melancholy, though yet a very pleasant satire of all our jocundry, that he confirmed what all the rest had written. But the wonder of all was, that Phaons' own Letter was against himself: For though he shrouded his Joys under a pretence of Love, yet he found not his expected effect, as I shall tell you, when you have heard Phaons' Letter, which was thus written.  
PHAON unto the most charming SAPPHO.  
MADAM,  
Doubtless you have a most strange power over me, & your words, when you please, have greater force in them then any enchantments: For your obliging expressions a little before I parted from you, did infuse such joys into my soul, that all the harshness of absence from you cannot hinder me from remembering them with extreme delight: Judge how I shall be ravished when you return hither.  
Moreover, I hope you will take my joys as greater testimonies of my Love, then if I had been only a lump of sorrows; for I conceive it better to receive favours with so great a sensibility of them as shall comfort in absence, then to endure absence with so much inquietude as makes favours forgotten: Nor can I well tell which is the greater argument of love, to be sensible of favours, or to be sensible of that misfortune which severs us. Yet I desire with all my soul to hear from your own month, what I ought to believe, and that I may soon protest unto you upon my knees that I am the most devoted yours.  
PHAON.  
This Madam, was the Letter of Phaon: As for mine, it was the only one which did him neither good nor hurt, because it did not so much as mention him: For since I thought him too merry for an absent Lover, and since I was resolved not to prejudice him, I chose rather not to speak of him at all, then to speak in his dis-advantage. But whilst these Letters were coming from Mytelene, to the place where Sappho was, she and Cydnon were talking together with all the freedom which the Country and friendship would allow: But they talked of things very far off any thoughts of Phaon; for indeed both of them being sitting by the Fountain which I talked of before, discoursed upon the bitterness of absence, and the sorrows which it caused in the souls of all such as are sensible of it. For my part (said Cydnon) I am so sensible of it, that since your departure from Mytelene, I have enjoyed no delights with any tranquillity; for when I made any visits, I was wishing you there: if I went any walk, I regretted your not being there; if I heard any good news, I was vexed that I could not impart it unto you: and indeed I neither did, nor said, nor thought any thing wherein you had not some share, and which did not make me melancholy in thoughts only of your absence. Indeed (said Sappho then) I am much obliged to you; for in my opinion, the most certain testimony of the tenderness in any affection is sadness in absence. But Madam, as soon as she had pronounced these words, that Servant who brought the Letter from Athys, arrived, and presented it unto Sappho, who read it half aloud, to the end Cydnon might hear: But when she read that part which intimated the pleasant humour of Phaon, she blushed, and her heart trembled. Yet recollecting herself, she appointed the Servant to stay for an answer, and did rise up with intentions to write unto Athys: and she was no sooner risen, but another Messenger from Phaon arrived, with all the other Letters except that of Nicanors, and as for his he sent it another way. But Madam, my Sister since told me that never was the like disorder, as in the heart of Sappho; for after she had read that Letter from Athys, with such resentment as I told you, she read that of Amithones with more agitation of soul: that of Erinnes with more wonder: that from Phylire with more vexation; that from Alces, with more pensiveness; that from Nicanor with more shame, and that from Phaon with more sorrow, though she kept it the last, in hopes of greatest delight. Imagine I beseech you Madam, what effects these Letters might work in the mind of a Lady who could not endure the absence of Phaon without much sorrow, & who had spent a whole day with my sister in discoursing upon the bitterness of absence, and upon the sorrows which a Lover endures when he is out of her sight whom he loves. Cydnon told me that there appeared so much wonder in the face of Sappho upon the reading of these Letters, as she thought some strange accident had happened at Mytelene; for Sappho had read the Letter of Athys only aloud unto her, but she was not long ignorant of Sapho's wonder; for as soon as that fair one had read over all those Letters, she gave them unto my sister, and with a deep sigh, See (said she unto her) how little Phaon resembles you, and how friendship in you does more than Love in him can do.  
After this, Cydnon began to read these Letters, and was not so much astonished at them as Sappho was; for she observed always, that Phaon did divert himself at every thing, and was never sad upon any occasion. But since she known that I loved Phaon very well, she would endeavour to excuse him: And in order to that, she told Sappho she had no such reason to trouble herself so much at any thing which had been written: For truly (said she unto her) whatsoever Athys, Nicanor, and Alces writ aught to be suspected; and you ought to read what Phaon writ, as a thing which he had never written, but because it seemed unto him as acceptable unto you; also you ought to consider what Amithone, Erinne, and Phylire writ without any inquietude, since it's probable that Phaon at his return, seeing how they observed him, did only out of his prudence seem more pleasant then really he was: Ah Cydnon (replied Sappho) I thought to be as prudent as Phaon, and yet I was not able to be merry within an hour after his departure: all I was able to do, was not to appear very melancholy, and therefore I pray never offer to excuse him, for I cannot: I know Phaon is an intimate friend unto Democedes: but Cydnon, methinks he should more have thought upon me then him: Did I think him culpable (replied she) doubtless I should condemn him; why (replied she) can you think it possible Phaon should be so pleasant as to make so many several people speak of his jollity, but it must needs proceed from his want of Love? Ah Cydnon, it can be no otherwise: and I find him so little sensible of my absence, that I could find in my heart to banish him out of it: For my dear Cydnon, I am not able to endure, that whilst I am grieving myself for his absence, he should divert both himself and others with as much freedom of spirit as if he had never seen me: For my part (said Cydnon) I see him so full of joy when he sees you, as I cannot believe but he is full of sorrows when he sees you not: Reason and Love doubtless would have it so (replied she) yet all these six several persons depose against him, and indeed he condemns himself by his own Letter.  
Appearances may so deceive (said Cydnon to her) as it would not be rational in you to be much troubled at a thing which you know only upon uncertainties. To know it better my dear Cydnon (replied she) I will entreat you to return unto Mytelene, I will borrow Cynegires Coach for you, and you may give it out that you are returned upon such important business which called you thither: I in the interim will stay here fifteen days in expectation to hear from you, whether Phaon continue his jollity as he begun: But my dear Cydnon, I conjure you to let me have every day from you a most faithful and true relation of all his mirth, of his humours, and of his diversions; for the very truth is, if he love me only when he sees me, I will slight his love, and if I can I will quench my own. Cydnon then employed all her rhetoric to appease her, but she thought it so strange that Phaon should be merry whilst she was sad, as all my Sister's eloquence could not alter her mind, so as she must do as she would have her, and return to Mytelene, upon promises of such fidelity as she durst not fail her. In the mean time Sappho answered all those Letters she received, taking no notice of any discontent against Phaons' jollity: but not being able to hold out long, she hinted these few lines unto Phaon.  
SAPPHO unto PHAON.  
SIR,  
I Make no question, but joy may sometimes be a sign of a very tender affection: but I question whether it be so as you intent it. When I shall come to Mytelene, I shall see, whether yours be worthy of being valued as testimonies of that affection which you had rendered unto me.  
SAPPHO.  
Though this Letter was something short and dry, yet Phaon never feared that Sappho was angry with him, but thought that she had so many answers to write, that she could not have time to write any longer unto him: so as never changing his way of living, he behaved himself after Cydnons' return as he did before, which was, in seeking all occasions of cheering up himself in the absence of Sappho. In the mean while she sent every day a servant unto Mytelene in secret, to know from Cydnon news of Phaon, so as she received every day something which afflicted her; for Phaon was of such an humour, that he could not deny himself any one pleasure, as if the reason why he was so continually with Sappho whilst he was in Mytelene, had been only because more delights were to be met withal there then in any other places. But this was no hindrance to him of taking up with meaner pleasures when he was out of her sight whom he loved: So as Sappho having engaged my sister by oath to send her word of all that Phaon did, she understood that he haunted all the diversions in Mytelene, and that he seemed as if he had no discontents at his being there: so as her mind being extremely incensed against him, she could nor find a heart to see him, before she had let him know that she was displeased: To that end she sent unto him the day before her return unto Mytelene, an exact memorial of all his delights which he had during her absence, hinting unto him every particular days visit which he made, the pleasant walks which he took, all the diversions which he took; and in a word, all that he did: and to this Diurnal she joined a Letter which was very near these words,  
SAPPHO unto PHAON.  
SIR,  
SInce it is not to be believed that the sight of me will not add so much unto your pleasures as my absence, I conceive that my return will perhaps be but a disturbance unto your delights: You may perceive by this Diurnal which I send you, that I have a very exact account of all your diversions: but the question is, whether it be to punish or to recompense you. For to tell you truly, I believe we are not both of one opinion; and I am persuaded that you are not so sorry for displeasing me, as you joyed in my absence, and therefore you have no share in the affection, or esteem of  
SAPPHO.  
Since Phaon was really most extremely in love with Sappho, and knew that she was to return the next day, he did resent this Letter with much agitation of spirit, but hoped to make his peace at the first sight of her. Yet to the end he might see her before she came unto Mytelene, he came unto me, and after he had shown me the Letter, he entreated me to go with him, and meet her at a very rugged uneven place, where all those who come in Coaches must come out of them, so that Phaon and I stayed under some willows, in that rugged place; as soon as we were alighted from our horses, and stayed in expectation of their coming, I began to chide Phaon for his humour: For (said I unto him) how is it possible you should be much in love with Sappho, and be so little sensible of sorrow in her absence? when you are with her, you are so ravished with joys, as persuades me you would die if you were out of her sight.  
The truth is (said he) one cannot have a more violent passion, than is in my Soul, and my hopes of seeing Sappho this day, does at this very hour so joy my heart, that could you but see into my soul, you would confess that I do love Sappho better than any loved; but yet I must needs confess, that setting my jealousy aside, there are few things can make me very sad. I do profess (said he) if I feared Sappho would not love, I think I should run into desperate madness, in what place soever I were; but when I have reason to hope I am loved, when I hear of her being well every day, and when I know she will shortly return, and I must ingeniously confess, that I cannot be pensive and melancholy without a cause: And my soul is so propences and inclinable to court all delights, to shun all sorrows, that I use all the best means I can to sweeten the harshness of absence: But for all that, as soon as I see but Sappho again, you shall see me eternally with her, and see me the most amorous of all men living.  
Ah Phaon (said I unto him) to love as you do, is enough to make one believe you love yourself more than your mistress: But yet it is most certainly true, (replied he) there is none in the world would undertake more difficulties for Sappho's service than I would, I would blindly obey her in any thing, I am more careful, more exact, and more submiss, than ever any was; I have a heart more tender, than ever any had; I delight in the least of her favours, one favourable look swells me with joy, I have a million of tumultuous thoughts when I am with her, I esteem her, I admire her, and I adore her with as much reverence as I do the Gods; and my joys are so full when I talk in particular with her, as never any Lover in possession of his mistress, had a fuller tesentment of delight. And after this, I pray judge whether I be not in Love, and whether you have reason to accuse me for want of it.  
'tis true, my soul doth naturally shun sorrows, and affects pleasures, but what does it concern the person loved, whether her Lover be sad or merry, so he never fail in any real duties of a faithful Lover.  
As he said so, we saw the Coach of Cynegire appear a far off, so as Phaon and I took horse, and in a rapture of Passion, went as fast as ever he could to meet Sappho, and he was so extremely earnest, as that it could not be questioned but that he was most desperately in Love: And if the fair Sappho had seen him, doubtless she would have repent of what she writ; and he accosted her with so much joy, and love in his heart and eyes, that had she not wholly trusted unto Cydnon, she had doubted of her intelligence, and believed that Phaon had sighed all the time of her absence. But for all that, since she could not doubt of what my Sister had written, she received Phaon but with a hollow and faint Civility, and had received him worse if Cynegire had not been present: However after these first Compliments were passed, the Coach went on until it came to the rugged place which I mentioned, where the Ladies must go on foot. I being Phaons' friend, I presented my hand unto Cynegire, purposely that he might have the opportunity of talking with Sappho; for this rugged way was above two hundred Paces, before it was fit to take Coach again: and the Coach not being able to go so fast as we, we rested under some Willow Trees, where I drew Cynegire apart, under pretence of talking with her concerning a great design which Pittacus was negotiating.  
Thus Phaon had an opportuniy of talking with Sappho, but she intending to chide him; no sooner saw him in that passionate posture, but her heart began to relent, whether she would or no; yet striving to retain her anger, she asked Phaon how he was able to quit his diversions to meet her: but she asked the question with a blush, so as Phaon by her looks seeing she would be appeased he was well satisfied: why, Madam, do you ask such a question (said he unto her) and what cause have I given you to write to me as you did? since I harboured no joys but what you caused? for I beseech you, Madam (said he unto her) how can you think a man who had hopes in your favour, can ever be sad? Therefore, Madam, when I was absent from you without sorrows, it was upon no other reason, but because I knew you had not banished me your heart: And indeed, Madam, this thought was so sweet, and filled my Soul so full of joys, that as long as I was happy in your love, I defied Fortune to make me miserable: Yes, Madam, provided I may enjoy your affection, I can be contented to part with all my Estate, be an Exile, a Prisoner, and loadned with all manner of miseries, and be merry. Therefore I beseech you, Madam, I beseech you blame yourself for those innocent joys which you have caused. As for my part, I am persuaded that it would argue want of love and respect, if my joys of being loved by the Divine Sappho, were not infinitely above any sorrows that can be for her absence. Moreover, Madam (said he with a most tender and passionate Air) to judge how sensible I am when I am out of your sight, I beseech you consider my sensibility when I see you: Look in my eyes, most charming Sappho, and see them tell you that I think you fairer than ever, and that I am more joyed at the sight of you then ever any was, and am the most in love with you of all men living; but if they do tell you that I love you more than ever any other heart was capable of, than I beseech you never trouble yourself with enduiring what I do when I am out of your sight: but consider only, that never any Lover did prostrate himself at your feet with a Passion more violent and tender than mine is; for I beseech you what matter is it how I do testify my love when you are not in presence, so you do still find in me the same zeal and the same passion. For my part, I wished you all manner of diversions in the Country, and I hoped that the jocund humour of Cydnon would keep you from thinking your Solitude tedious. Oh Phaon (cried Sappho out) you know not how to love, if you can desire that your absence should not trouble me: and for my part, I do declare unto you that I shall never be pleased at you, if you be not the most melancholy man living, when you are absent from me. Then, Madam (said he unto her) I must forget that you do love me, for if I do not, I cannot possibly be miserable: No (replied Sappho) but on the contrary, it is the memory of that which I conceive should make you the more miserable; at least I am sure that the melancholy which your absence causeth in me, is, because I am absent from a person whom I thought loved me: Oh, Madam, replied Phaon, your opinion and mine ought to be very different in this, for it is not possible that you should rejoice for being adored by me, so much as I should for being loved by you, so as it is no wonder if the memory of my passion do not comfort you in my absence, nor is it strange that the memory of your goodness to me, do lessen those sorrows which your absence causeth; for Madam, I must say again, I cannot be melancholy as long as I am sure you love me. Questionless there is much wit in your Language (replied Sappho) but not much love; and if your eyes did not help out your words, I should think you do not love me; for to be absent from her, one loves, and not melancholy, is one of the greatest signs of lukewarm indifferency that can be. Oh, Madam (said he unto her) How can you think I do not love you? could you ever suspect either any of my actions or my words? All I see of you (answered she) does doubtless speak your passion, but all I see not, speaks your indifferency; for in my absence you can make many Visits with delight, you can walk abroad in company, you can be frolic and pleasant, and not the least wrinkle of melancholy appear in your countenance: and yet that which makes me most wonder, you can have delicate and tender thoughts, and express yourself so passionately as if you grieved for being absent: And yet I cannot conceive how one can possess a thing with any joy which he can part with without any sorrow: And sometimes I think that you are not at all joyed at my presence, since my absence never makes you melancholy. Oh, Madam (said he unto her in such a passionate manner as made her blush) I dare defy you in this, do your worst, and you cannot choose but believe, that when I am in your presence, I am the most deep in love with you of any living: Yes, yes, Divine Sappho, though you have been told that I haunted Balls every day during your absence, that I entertained all the beauties in Mytelene: and though you have been told perhaps that I am inconstant, yet I am most confident that when you look into my eyes, you will see my heart loves you beyond the expression of any tongue; and indeed never any Lover had more reason to love then I: For first, you are without exception the fairest in the world, I have a more propense inclination to love you than ever any had; I esteem you beyond all admiration, and I do love you the more, because both my inclination and my reason adviseth me unto it, and also because my gratitude exacts it from me: Nay, as for this last reason of your love (replied Sappho) I would never have it mentioned; why, Madam (replied Phaon) would you not have me grateful and acknowledge your goodness and all your favours? I would have every one grateful (replied she) but I would not have gratitude the only cause of affection, and if one should love me only because I love him, he would do me a most sensible injury: For indeed I would have one love me for so many other reasons, that though he were naturally ungrateful yet he might most zealously love me: And therefore never rank your gratitude amongst the causes of your passion, if you would persuade me that you love me as I would be, for that is neither civil nor gallant, nor passionate. Gratitude indeed may beget amity but never Love: I would willingly you should tell me, that it fastens the knot which ties you, but as I told you before, I would not have you number it among the causes of your passion, for then, of consequence my favours must preced your a ffection, and on the contrary, I hoped, your affection had preceded my favours: and that if I ascribed your Love unto any cause, it should have been unto your own inclination, and my own merit, for my humour is such, as I cannot endure one should love me for any other causes. I remember (continued she) that once I hated a very lovely woman, because I discovered, that all her semblances of affection to me, did not proceed from any tenderness unto me; but only in hopes that happily I should bring her name into some of my verses, and describe her Character.  
Judge therefore Phaon, whether I should take it well you should love me for any other reason, then because you think me amiable, and because you cannot choose but love me. When Sappho had said this, and the Coach being over all the rugged way, their discourse was forced to end as well as mine with Cynegire; with whom I held a long discourse concerning the Politics, purposely to give Phaon time enough to express his love unto Sappho, and make his peace with her.  
However, this fair one parted not from him without some testimonies of her anger, for as they were parting, she asked him in what pleasant company he would pass away the evening, as for us (added she and pointed unto Cynegire) we shall see none this day? I shall pass it away (replied he) only with Democrates, and talk only with him of my joys for your Return, you had done much better, replied she, if you had talked with him before, of your sorrows for my absence. But afterwards, taking Coach, Phaon presented his hand to help her, so respectively and his eyes had such amorous looks, as Sappho could not choose but repent of her accusation, and indeed, the very truth is, it is impossible that any should be more extremely in love then Phaon, though he could not be very sensible of such sorrows as absence caused, but on the contrary, did comfort himself with the pleasure of one thing for the loss of another: However, this chiding of Sappho's, made him pass away that night in solitude, and indeed, he was so glad that he had made his peace with her as he needed no other delights. Not that she did say, she would pardon him, but they used to understand one another so well without speaking, that looks betwixt them were as good as words. And though Sappho had chidden Phaon very much, yet he saw by her eyes, that he was still in her heart as he was wont to be. And indeed, going betimes the next morning unto her, he concluded his Peace, and they were an hour together with all the joys which the reconciliation of fallen out Lovers, ever causeth But at last their pleasure was interrupted by Alces, who now loving Sappho no less than the fair Athys, was very diligent in waiting upon her. 'tis true his Mistress came presently after but you may be sure, it was Jealousy more than love which caused her visit: and though she knew Sappho did not love Alces yet she could not choose but be jealous. Nicanor also was none of the last in paying his devotions to Sappho: And Amithone, Erinne and Cydnon coming in also, the Assembly swelled into their usual number. At the first; Athys, Amythone and Erinne began to talk of their Journey and their return, which was no pleasing story unto Phaon. And they had harped much more upon that string if Phylire had not come in, and brought with her a stranger of a very handsome presence whom she presented unto Sappho, and who was Brother unto that valiant Prisoner called Moriontes, whom the invincible Cyrus had saved from the flames in the wood, after he had vanquished him. But Madam, this man seemed so unlike a stranger, that none questioned but that he was o● some of the most Civilised Towns in Greece, and did not suspect him to be a Scythian, yet his complexion and hair did not suit with the mode of Greece, for both were very white, and he very fair, but that rule being not general, every one notwithstanding thought him a Grecian, for he had not only the Air and Garb of a Greek, but also he spoke the Language very elegantly, his person was very pleasing; his stature was not very tall, but noble and graceful, his action was free and jolly. The features of his face were agreeable and lovely, his eyes a little languishing and he had the department of a man of a high quality. Moreover his wit was both sharp and discreet, and his Air both gallant and sprightly: his Conception of things and his expressions of them was neat. And indeed, this illustrious Scythian is a man as amiable and of as admirable parts, as any man in the World.  
Sappho having always a particular Genius to honour all strangers who came to visit her, she received him with that gallant civility which was natural unto her, and to testify how glad she was to see him, she complained against all the company, for not telling her that a stranger of such excellent accomplishments was in Mytelene. It was but yesterday Madam, replied Phylire, that a Brother of mine who hath been abroad in travels and now returned, did bring him unto me. Since he hath not been in a condition to present himself unto you, because he hath been a little sick, and since he stood in need of me to present him unto you when who was recovered, he desired it might be by my means that Clyrantes might know that admirable Lady of whom he hath heard talk of with so much esteem throughout all the Grecian Cities where he hath traveled. Did I affect Glory more than my own satisfaction. (replied Sappho) doubtless I should be very sorry to see a man who questionless will esteem me more before he is acquainted with me, than afterwards. But since I value not an ill gotten esteem, I will run the hazards of losing his, and see if I can purchase some part of his friendship in lieu of it. To destroy that esteem I have of you Madam (replied this welcome stranger and smiled) is but an ill way to get my friendship: But Madam you are so assured to keep my esteem and purchase my friendship, that you care not what you say: And though you have yet spoken but little, yet that little is so well, as I am most confident that you speak always so. Wave your commendations of me Sir (replied Sappho very gallantly) until you find some reason for it: And therefore I beseech you, favour me so far as not to flatter me until you shall find me worthy to be flattered by so well accomplished a man as yourself, you are very froward Madam (replied Clyrantes) in giving that glorious attribute so suddenly upon a Scythian. I have such a Reputation of knowing the merits of men at the first (replied she) that a friend of mine sometimes says, that I use to divine them, and therefore Sir do not suspect me of being too hasty in giving my judgement, since it is a peculiar Talon which I have, never to be mistaken in the choice of those, whom I think worthy of my commendations.  
After th●s, all the company having part in this discourse, it was very pleasing. And since Sappho could not choose but wonder at the politnesse of Clyrantes, she asked him, how it was possible the politnesse of the Scythians should not be as much famed as of the Grecians, if they were all such as he was. My Country Madam, replied he, is indeed so near Scythia that some do take us and Scythians to be all one: However, I am not only a Scythian, but originally a Sauromate which is a Country something more rude, for the customs and manners of the Sauromates were savage, yet true it is, that though I am a Sauromate, yet I am of a Country which hath no tincture of their customs: And in distinction from the other, we are called the new Sauromates; yet we hold no commerce with them, for it being our policy to hold no correspondency with any Neighbours, least strange customs should corrupt our manners, we do all we can to live upon what our Country affords us, and not be beholding unto the commerce of other Nations.  
This (replied Sappho) hath some resemblance unto the Lacedaemonian Constitution, which took extraordinary care, that no strange customs should be introduced unto their own. But when you tell me, that you hold corespondency with no Neighbours, I must confess, that I cannot understand, how that can be and questionless, it would be very delightful unto all the company, if you would be pleased to take so much pains as to make us understand it, and to relate the Original of a people, and the manners of their Country which must needs be very pleasant, if it produce men like unto yourself. I beseech you Madam, (replied Clyrantes) do not judge of my Country by me. And to render that Justice which I ought to pay unto it, I will tell you what it is: Be pleased to know Madam, that the Sauromates in general, which some do mingle with Scythians, and others distinguish, do still retain such odd customs, that their very sacrifices do speak the ferocity of their Nature. For in Lieu of building Temples unto Mars who is the God whom they adore, or erecting his statue, they heap up together a huge pile of wood, which they set on fire; and when it is consumed, they set a Sword in the midst of this great heap of Ashes, before which, they sacrifice those Prisoners which they take in War; yet the people have been much more cruel, and savage then now they are; for the Prince who at this day governs them, hath infused much civility into their Natures: But in those days, when they were more barbarous: Fortune having brought amongst them some Greeks, from whom the Challipides do say they are descended. they seated themselves in a place which borders upon the banks of the River Tanais, and they did so well indoctrinate some of the principal Sauromates, as they made them abhor their own customs, and embrace theirs; in so much as one of those Grecians did insensibly get such Authority over all their Country, That the People did acknowledge one of them for their head. And the business came to that height, as when the Prince who then reigned over the Sauromates would oppose this Junction; he found it a very difficult business, for the commotion was so great and sudden, that it came to blows. And this Greek being both valiant and prudent, the Sauromattan Prince could not vanquish him, but on the contrary, he was forced to let them have a petty Dominion, in the midst of his own Kingdom, and could not help it. For Madam, this famous Grecian assembled to gether all such as would voluntarily be his Disciples and Subjects, he drew them towards the confines of that place which he made choice of for their habitation, and wasted the Country so all about, that all seemed to be a desert Thus, after he had maintained Wars, five or six years with much glory. the Prince of Sauromates was forced to make a Peace, and to suffer another Dominion to be in the heart of his own Kingdom which was become a desert all about this new Dominion. But one of the conditions of this Peace was, that it should be equally forbidden both unto the ancient subjects of this Saucromatan Prince, and to those of this new Sovereign, to till the Lands which the last had laid waist, or to build any houses or Cottages upon it. And indeed Madam, this was so strictly observed by our forefathers, that at this day it is three great days journey at the least over this Wilderness: So as one of the best cultivated Countries in the world, is hedged in with another which is not at all inhabited. And it may be well said, that your Isle is not so without Neighbours as my Country is, though it be joined to the continent. For it is an easier matter to pass between Mytilene into Phrygia then out of my Country unto any habitable place.  
This description is so very particular, replied Sappho; And the Idea of this little Dominion which hath no Neighbours, doth so please me: That if women were as well permitted to travel as men, I should be full of curiosity till I saw it. Your curiosity Madam, replied Clirantes would be much better satisfied than you can imagine. For that illustrious Grecian our first Prince, did hedge about his Dominions with a desert, only to hedge in all the virtues, and the secrecies, which he would infuse into the souls of his Subjects, and to hinder the vices of his Neighbours, from spoiling his design: And having many able men with him, he established such good orders amongst them, as in a short time their manners were wholly changed: So as this Prince living unto a great age, he had time enough to establish his Laws, and left a son prudent enough to maintain them. He lived to receive so much satisfaction, as to see all the Arts and Sciences flourish in his Dominions, and his memory is so dear unto us, that we account our years, from the time of his reign. But I beseech you Sir, (said Sappho then unto him) satisfy us a little better concerning your customs. Since Madam (replied Clirantes) they are almost all Grecian, I should but be tedious, since you know them better than I do. It will therefore suffice if I acquaint you with what we believe. And therefore be pleased to know Madam, that we think of the gods as you do. That except some relics of ancient Sauromatique Ceremonies which our first King would not out of policy abolish, our sacrifices are like unto yours, our Towns, our houses, or Villages, are much resemblant unto yours here, but I must tell you that our Dominion is not so large; for there is but one great City, fifty Towns, and two hundred Villages: The truth is, that the City is one of the most pleasant places in the World; and if strangers were permitted egress and regress, its reputation would be famed over all the World, but since it is our custom to debar them, the reputation of our Country is confined within its own limits, and the deserts which environ us; and we think ourselves so happy in neither envying nor being envied by others that we value not the World's ignorance of our happiness. But I beseech you, (replied Amithone) when one comes into your Country, are they not suffered to go out again? They never admit of any but upon that condition, replied Clirantes: For there are Guards kept at all the advances, and none are suffered to enter unless they be thought worthy. Indeed when any one hath a desire to dwell in our Country, the Guards stop them, and carry them to the Prince who transfers them unto certain Officers appointed for that purpose, to be examined three Months together, to see their manners, and whether they know any thing worthy to be received amongst us, and after all this, they are to swear never to go out of the Country without the Prince's leave, who useth very seldom to grant it. They are also to swear inviolably to observe all our Customs, after which they give them estates proportionable to their qualities and merit. But when any desires to travel who is a Native (replied Sappho) must they have Licence also from the Prince? Yes Madam, replied he, and much ado to obtain it, but when it is granted, and they return again into their Country, they must also submit unto the same examination for three Months, to try whether their travels have not corrupted their manners.  
This constraint indeed is very vexatious, and once there was a rebellion about it, which ended not without a civil War: But at last the Prince then reigning banished all the Rebels out of his Dominions, and this great Colony went and inhabited towards a River which is called Danabins, where they established the very same customs which caused their Rebellion, for they made a Desert also about their Dominions like unto ours.  
But Madam, not to tire you with tedious relations of the Policy and government of my country: Give me leave to acquaint you only with the present condition of our Court, for indeed Madam, we are governed by a young Queen, who hath only one Son, and who is one of the most rarely accomplished Princes in the world. Since the Arts and Sciences are amongst us, it cannot be otherwise imagined that our Court is well refined; for since we have long lived in peace, Gallantry is in its greatest lustre, Laws are made peculiarly for Love, and there are punishments ordained for unfaithful Lovers as well as for rebellious subjects: Indeed, fidelity is held in such veneration amongst us, as it is kept until death: Those who marry for Love, have not Liberty to marry again, but are caused to make a public declaration against it.  
Moreover, it is as customary to go and comfort an absent Lover, as it is here to comfort one in mourning, and if one should frequent any diversions in the absence of his Mistress, it would be so laid in his dish, as it is never seen amongst us.  
We know some amongst us (replied Sappho and blushed) who would think that custom to be very harsh: It is so generally used amongst us (replied Clirantes) that there are none but do observe it; for since the first founder of our state intended to keep his Subjects in their Country, he would enchain them by Love.  
Thus is Gallantry amongst us preserved as an effect of policy, our customs of Love are as ancient as our State; and almost as inviolable as our Religion: Thus cannot one change his Mistress, before he plead the causes of his inconstancy; nor can the mistress cast off her Lover, unless she declare the reason of her change. And since Peace, Idleness, and Plenty, do always abound amongst us, nothing but Love is discoursed of in our conversations, so as those who come into our Country, must needs pass through the Country of the ancient Sauromates, they wonder, after they have seen so many savage people, to find us so civilised and gallant.  
Moreover, since our Founder was a Grecian, the Greek tongue is preserved amongst us in its purity, not that it is the vulgar language of the people; but there is not any of quality who understands it not, and there are some wits in our Court, whose lines the fair Sapha would not think unworthy of her reading. You have described your Country after such a pleasing manner (replied Sappho) and you do so well confirm all you have said in its praises, by your own presence, that were it not so far distant from us as it is, I think I should quit my own, and go dwell there: After this, all the company had their voices in this discourse, and Clirantes did acquit himself so excellently well, as he got the esteem of every one. But Sappho knowing with a strange foresight, whatsoever passed in the hearts of such as she observed, she foretold at this very first visit, that Clirantes should fall in Love with Phylire, and Phylire should not hate Clirantes, if he stayed in their isle: And indeed, what happened afterwards, did evidence that she was not mistaken.  
In the mean time, though Sappho and Phaon were sincerely reconciled, yet there was still in Sappho's mind a strong disposition to suspect, that Phaon did not love her as she desired to be: Athys, Alces, and Nicanor, were not wanting to blow the coals of anger between them, for Phaon could not stir any whither, but they informed Sappho, and if he was at any time pleasant out of her presence, she was immediately told of it. And since it was not possible for him to alter his humour, he still diverted himself every where, and was grieved for nothing. When he was with Sappho, doubtless he thought himself the happiest man in the world, and joy did so visibly sparkle in his eyes, that one might easily see, that she was Queen Regent in his heart, but for all that, when he did not see her, he did not grieve, and since it was not possible he should disguise his humour, especially having the eyes of so many watchful spies upon him, who did him all the ill offices they could, Sappho could not rest in any quietness. As soon as ever Phaon was out of her sight, she still enquired what he did, and hearing commonly, that wheresoever he was, still he was very merry, she grieved more than I am able to express, though my sister told me some of her complaints against Phaon: Was ever any destiny comparable unto mine (said she one day unto Cydnon) for one would imagine, that I should be very happy in being loved by one of the most accomplished, and most amiable men in the world, yet I should be much happier did he hate me; for his hatred would cure me of that affection I have unto him: But in this condition into which I am brought, I can neither hate him nor love him with any tranquil delight, and the worst is, my misery is without remedy; for if Phaon did not love me I should hope he might hereafter love me as I desire, if he were absolutely inconstant, I should hope he would return unto me, and if he hated me, I should hope his hatred would not be immortal; but he loves me certainly as much as he is able to love, and were he the same when he sees me not, that he is when he doth see me, than I should desire no more; yet for all that servant love which appears in all his Actions, in all his Words, and in all his Looks, I am nothing satisfied with him, so as I am the most miserable person in the world; for since the cause of my dislike can never change, it must of necessity follow, that I shall be always miserable.  
But (said Cydnon unto her) since you are pleased with him as long as he is in your sight, therefore I would advise you to see him and marry him, to the end he may never part from you.  
Ah Cydnon (replied Sappho) though I never had taken up a constant resolution never to marry, yet the humour of Phaon is enough to make me resolve it; for if in this condition we are, I be not able to make him grieve when he sees me not, I shall not be able to do it, in a time, when perhaps I cannot make him pleased with the sight of me.  
But Madam, (replied Cydnon) what remedy can you find? I will endeavour (said she) to make Phaon as full of sorrow as myself, which if I could bring to pass, I should be more joyed, than I am able to express: I have seen him so sensible of jealousy (replied Cydnon) that if you would give him any cause of it, I am confident you would have those joys you wish for. It is resolved upon (replied Sappho) and I will from this day, begin to treat Nicanor so well that since he cannot grieve when he sees me not, I will perhaps make him grieve when he doth see me. And indeed Madam, the fair Sappho took up this resolution, and did put it in execution so handsomely, that Phaon grew extremely jealous, and as sad as she could desire him to be.  
At the first, she was much joyed, and all the complaints which he made unto her were so sweet and pleasing, that she would not so soon cause them to cease.  
In the mean time, Nicanor could not tell from whence this his good fortune proceeded, and Alces did so wonder to see Sappho change for the worse, that he did absolutely return unto the fair Athys.  
However, Phaon whom the pangs of jealousy tormented, knew not how this alteration in Sappho should come to pass, yet I told him, that his humour was the cause, but he would not believe me; and he began to hate Nicanor so horridly, that he could not endure him. Thus was this poor Lover, both hated by his Rival, and not loved by his Mistress: And his misery was the more, because having a piercing Wit, he perceived, that indeed Sappho did not love him, but still loved Phaon, so as then looking upon her favours, as an artifice to augment the Love of his Rival, he grew more angry with Sappho then with Phaon, and this miscellany of of resentments produced such pleasant effects in the hearts of these three persons, as the like was never known. But at last these two incensed Lovers, not being able to hold out any longer, they quarrelled and fought, none knowing who got the advantage, because they were parted before their combat ended: But Pittacus being a wise Prince and much grieved at the news of Tysanders' death, he was so angered at this quarrel; that he banished them both for a year, to prevent any dangerous consequences: So as Phaon having dwelled more in Sicily, than in any other place, he resolved to spend the time of his Exile there, and Nicanor intended for Phrygia: But Phaon was so earnest with me to negotiate so for him, as Cyanon might help him to the sight of Sappho in private, before he departed, that I did what I could to satisfy him. Nor did I find much difficulty to effect it, for as Sappho's violent passion caused her to repent of making Phaon jealous, and she had as great a desire to pardon him, as he had to be pardoned, for knowing his humour, she thought that nothing could be more dangerous for her than absence▪ But at last, having entreated Cydnon to mediate with Sappho, and having obliged her to discover unto me that her friend had never favoured Nicanor, but only to make Phaon jealous, I told this welcome and important secret unto my friend, who at first would not believe it, but as it is impossible to be long unperswaded of a thing which one wisheth, he thought that such a thing might be, and he resolved to clear his doubt by looking in the fair eyes of Sappho.  
But at last their meeeing being to be at Cydnons' house, their amity was renewed in the most tender manner in the world.  
Well Madam (said Phaon unto her at first meeting) after you have made me the most jealous and most miserable man alive, do you now think me the most amorous of all your Lovers? and though my joys in being loved by you could not persuade you, yet will my sorrows in being forsaken, work with you? had you been forsaken (replied she) you should never have had opportunities to make your complaints unto me, for I would never have seen you: But Phaon, if you have suffered any torments thank yourself, since if you had known how to Love, I should never have taught you by any so vexatious a course as jealousy:  
Truly madam, said he unto her) your invention was most cruel. But I beseech you tell me? Did you never love Nicanor? and did you still love me? Let me tell you only half of what you ask (answered she and blushed) and guess yourself at the rest.  
After this, Madam, these two incensed Pensons being insensibly pacified, they expressed themselves unto each other, in as passionate and tender terms that Love could invent: yet Sappho's joys were not complete, for the thought of this long and cruel absence did so disquiet her, that she did not fully enjoy the sweets of this pacification. (For said she unto Phaon) what can I expect from you and your humour? you I say, who are never moved but with what you see, and not at all with what you see not, for though it were possible you should continue faithful during this long absence, yet it is impossible you should suffer as much as I do: and since you are capable of joys and delights, within two days after you have left me, what will you do when you have been whole Months out of my sight, have, I not reason to fear the losing of you, for in a long absence, I know nothing but sorrow which can be a faithful guard over the heart of a Lover. Indeed love is so accustomed to grow amongst pleasures as it may well be said that joy is the first necessary disposition unto its growth. And since questionless your mind will be all upon delights as soon as ever you are out of my sight; I have reason to believe, that some new Love will take possession of your heart, and drive mine out.  
Since Madam I never loved any comparably so much as you (replied Phaon) because I never found any comparably so amiable as to merit my affection, I must ingeniously confess that I never had any great commerce with Love, until I saw you. The truth is, I have a hundred times perceived a passion begin to flash a little and extinguish again in the very presence of her I thought to have loved, and indeed I have some days been so unlike myself from my first entrance into company until I went out again, that I knew not myself. I must confess I had some desires which begun both to live and die, in one and the same day, not knowing well why I had them, nor why I had them no longer.  
But as for you Madam, your power has a greater influence upon me, I love you after another manner, and when I do apprehend the bitterness of this horrid absence, I begin to prepare myself for infinite miseries, for this bitter absence is unlike all the rest; indeed, when you were in the Country. I always expected your return so shortly, that it was no wonder if my hopes of soon seeing you should diminish my sorrows, and that my belief of your loving me, was so joyful unto me, as to keep me from grieving: But alas Madam, a whole year looks like a little eternity to me, and I shall go away in fear, that you are not fully persuaded of the greatness of my Love.  
But Madam, I beseech you judge me not by what is paest, since certainly I never loved you, so much as I now do. Yes divine Sappho, I do love you more than ever, and more than ever I shall any other, and more than ever I can hope to be loved, I believe it, (said she, and interrupted him) but for all that, in all appearances you do love me less, than you thought you did after you had been fifteen days out of my sight.  
After this, returning a very plausible answer, he made a million of protestations of fidelity unto the fair Sappho, and in such a passionate manner, as she was persuaded that the heart of Phaon was changed, and that he would resent this long absence with abundance of sorrow; so as both of them used the most delicate and passionate expressions, that Love could possibly infuse into the hearts and tongues of two persons deeply in Love, and ready to depart from each other: Thus Sappho and Phaon parted, infinitely satisfied and reconciled: Phaon imbanqued the next morning; and Sappho went in the country, carrying my sister with her; but she went not thither, so much to enjoy the sweets of solitude, as to hide the sorrows of her soul, and to avoid bidding adieu unto Nicanor who know too weH, that all the favour he received, belonged not unto him. But Madam, since Phaons' departure, Sappho was all melancholy: 'tis true, at her return unto Mytelene she contracted a very great league of friendship with Clyrantes, who was so extremely in love with Phylire, as none could be more.  
In the mean time, the company at Sappho's was nothing so pleasant as heretofore, because she was grown to very melancholy that she shunned as much as handsomeness would permit her all occasions of delight, so all the good company broke up: For Alces at last married Ashys, who since her marriage did not frequent Sappho's.  
Erinne, she fell sick of a languishing disease: my sister went into Phrygia with my Mother, who was of that Country, and Amithone went into the Country, so as I was the only One left, unto whom Sappho could talk with any confidence: And yet she had one dear friend whom I did not mention at the beginning of my relation, because she was absent from Mytelene during all the time of this long love: but since she returned the same day my sister departed, it may well be said she took her place: And certainly she was worthy of Sapho's friendship, though her fortunes were not so high as the rest of her friends.  
Indeed, this Lady who was called Agelaste, by reason of her melancholy temper, had most rare qualities: her person did please much more than some could who were fairer than she: She was not tall, but handsome, her hair was brown, her eyes grey and sweet, her face a little long, her nose something high, her mouth pretty, her complexion well, but a little pale; her teeth white, her neck admirable, her hands and arms fair, and her Physiognomy so wise and modest, that every one had a good opinion of her at the very first sight.  
Agelaste also played upon the Lute most admirably: But I always most esteemed her for her wit, her discretion, her goodness, and her fidelity were so great, that one might trust her with any thing in the world: Moreover, though she was naturally melancholy: Yet she would be very pleasant in company, especially with her intimate friends, for unless with them she spoke little: Agelaste then, being as I have described her, she was inseparable from Sappho, since all the rest of her friends had left her: And Phylire also did visit her much oftener than she did before: The truth is, Sappho stood in need of some comfort at that time, for you must know that Cynegire with whom she lived, and to whom she was much obliged, died: and a few days after she heard that her Brother, of whom she always heard bad news, was fallen in love with a Slave called Rhodope, whom Esope also had loved, and that the passion of Charaxes had been so extreme, that after he had enfranchised her, his love of her had quite ruined him.  
Also Sappho understood that Rhodope, whose beauty and art had rendered her more famous in Egypt, than her virtue had, she sent him back to Mytelene in a most lamentable condition. Moreover, the death of Tysander had so altered the Court of Pittacus, that people did not live in that City as formerly they did; yet Sappho was so happy as to find a satisfaction in herself without seeking it in others.  
In the mean time, the greatest inquietude which she had being Phaons' absence: she was forced (though she did not affect to have any Confident) to let me talk unto her sometimes, for I was the conveyer of all the Letters between Phaon and her; yet it was not possible to have many Letters from him, which was no small addition to her inquietudes: But Madam, she was much more restless and unquiet a little after, when she receiving a packet from Phaon which I brought in all haste unto her, she found besides her Lover's letter, a Note directed unto him, written with a woman's hand; but so scurvily writ, that it was evident, she who writ it was not guilty of over much wit. In the mean time, it appeared by it that Phaon had writ many Letters unto her, that he was much in her favour, and that he had given her several Serenades: And indeed Madam, I understood afterwards, that though Phaon did love Sappho most passionately, yet he would sometimes solace himself with that fair Fool whom he had formerly loved in Sicily. Not that there was any comparison between those thoughts which he had of Sappho and this fair Sicilian; for his passion was most zealous and servant to the first of these, and his engagements to the other might rather be called a musing, than any real affection. However, he did divert himself as much as if he had not been absent from that person whom he loved with most passionate tenderness. But to return unto Sappho, you may imagine Madam, how she was surprised to find in Phaons' packet this note directed unto her, and a Note stuffed with the most fond, simple gallantry in the world: indeed, I think that never such a piece was seen, yet the Character was fair enough, but that served only to render it ridiculous; for the Orthography was so bad, the sense so shallow, the expressions so poor, and the order of words so confused, and opposite unto all rules of eloquence and reason, as it is a wonder how any woman of quality could possibly write after such a rate. But the oddest thing was, that the Letter which Phaon writ unto Sappho was the most elegant, the most gallant and passionate piece that ever was seen: so as it was not credible, that any man who writ so well, could hold any particular correspondency with a woman who writ so ill: Yet it appeared by this Note, that Phaon did often see her, and that he had given her several Serenades as I told you before: And I assure you Sappho was so sadly astonished at this cruel adventure, that not being able to hide her sorrows, she communicated them unto Agelaste, and me.  
Did ever any see such unparalled weakness as this in your friend? (said she unto me) I know that when he sees me, he loves me as much as he is capable of: I know also, that then he thinks himself unable to take delight in the company of any other person: and yet it appars by this Paper, that he bears some kind of affection unto the veriest fool in the world, and that he mingles her Letters and mine indifferently together, though I think mine have some order of sense in them, and those of his new Mistress none. Since I knew the humour of Phaon better than Sappho did, I did my friend the best office I could, and endeavoured to persuade this admirable woman, that the heart of this Lover had no share in any of these pleasures which he took during his absence, and that Phaon lived as he did, rather to look upon these trifles, then to divert himself in them.  
Ah Democedes (said she unto me) a grieved Lover cannot find a heart to look upon such trifles: And if Phaon loved me as he should do, the most pleasing Serenades would never divert him: he would be so indisposed to give them unto others as he doth, that he wovold shun the place where others give them: And therefore I am resolved to love him no longer, but will hate myself▪ if I cannot hate him. It was in vain for me to protest unto Sappho that Phaons' love did not change, and that it was only an effect of his humour, wherein his heart had no share, for she would not believe it: so as in the rapture of her sorrows, she answered Phaon in a very singular manner, for she sent him back the note which he had unawares sent unto her, and writ only these words.  
SAPPHO unto PHAON.  
SIR,  
SInce you have contracted amity with a Lady, whose Letter I have sent you back, resolve to break off ours; for I think it an unworthy thing in me, to let a man have any share any longer in my heart, who hath withdrawn his own from me to give it unto another, so much unworthy of himself.  
SAPPHO.  
This Letter doubtless was enough to enforce sorrow into the soul of Phaon: but to tell you truly, I writ him another which grieved him to the very heart of his soul; for I chid him so home for his levity, and did so terrify him with his likelihood of losing Sapho's affection, that as soon as he had read her Letter and mine, he became a Convert: when he considered that Sappho perhaps would withdraw her heart from him, he easily resolved to quit the lesser delights to preserve the greater: so as knowing no better way to reconcile himself unto Sappho, then by quitting Sicily, and coming to her, he resolved to come disguised unto Lesbos, and accordingly he came in a Merchant's Ship: And landing at a Port in a corner of our Isle, he concealed himself with a friend who had a house very near unto that of Sapho's in the Country. He was no sooner there, but enquiring where she, and I was, but he understood that I was gone a journey of fifteen days, and that Sappho was at her own house without any other company then her dear Agelaste: so as losing no time, and knowing her usual hours of walking unto that Fountain which formerly I mentioned, he went and hid himself in a little thicket of Trees which grew about it, leaving his horse some fifty paces off with a Lackey: he had not waited there a quarter of an hour but he faugh Sappho and her friend appear; and see her so sad, that as insensible as he was of sorrow, his heart was tendered: 'Tis true, the thought of being so tenderly loved by the most excellent woman in the world, did make him more joyed at it, than Sapho's sadness made them melancholy. However, he would give her time to sit down before he would show himself, to the end he might a little digest those sorrows which this fight caused in him. But as it chanced, these two Ladies did sit down upon a seat of Grass with their backs towards Phaon, so as he could easily hear what they said; for the Grove was very thick in that place, and he crept so gently, that they could neither hear nor see him. They were no sooner set, but Sappho began to speak.  
But my dear Agelaste (said she unto her) there is so little appearance in what you tell me, that I know not whether I should believe it, and therefore I desire to know all the particulars of this adventure. They are very easily known (replied she) For yesterday in the afternoon I understood from the mouth of Phylire, that Clirantes (whose quality is so great that he is near Cousin to the Queen of Sauromates) is so much in love with her, as that he will marry her, if she will follow his fortunes, and go into his Country. So as Phylire who loves him no less than he her, and is freely in his own dispostion, she is resolved upon it, and ready to follow this Illustrious Sauromate. But since she desires the business may be done without any noise, she imparted the secret unto me, and willed me to desire that you would be pleased to let them be married in your house; which done, they would presently after depart, and go into that Country, where there are such severe Laws against unfaithful Lovers. I wish with all my heart (replied Sappho) that the inconstant Phaon were there also, that he might be punished for his levity. And Agelaste (continued she sighing) since I know you have no great business at Mytelene, but all places in the world are alike unto you, why may not we two follow Phylire into the happy Country of Clirantes? For I must confess I cannot endure living in Mytelene.  
But Madam (replied Agelaste) as long as Phaon is in your heart, I would not advise you to go into a Country where he cannot be admitted: As long as I am not in Phaons' heart (replied Sappho) I should be glad to be in any place where I may never see him: and therefore my dear Agelaste, if you be able to follow my Fortune, we will both of us follow Phylires: For truly there is nothing in Mytelene which doth not displease me: Charaxes is come to persecute me, all the world wearies me, I shall never see Phaon there: Or if I do, I shall see him inconstant, so as I shall think him unworthy of my affection. Oh Madam (cried he out, and came out of the place where he was hid, and kneeling down before her) Do not use the most faithful Lover alive so unjustly: and to testify that I am such a one, I beseech you let me go with you into that happy Country where all unfaithful Lovers are so severely punished: For since I shall never be absent from you there, I shall not fear the Laws which are made against such as divert themselves in the absence of their Mistresses: Is it possible Phaon (said Sappho) that you should be so impudent as to speak thus after your last crime? Yes Madam (said he unto her) the love of my soul unto you hath taught me so much impudence, that I dare beseech you to do unto me as I do understand Phylire intends unto Clirantes: For Madam, it is as certain as that the Heavens are above us, that I am the most faithful Lover upon Earth: Carry me into any place where I can never go from you, and you will find me the most constant Lover that ever lived: I can never confess that my weakneffes did ever merit the name of inconstant: For Madam, I have adored you every minute of time since I first knew you: I must confess that I have a soul which is addicted unto pleasures, and which flies from any sad thoughts: But for all that, since I had any apprehensions of loving you, I have quitted all that you can imagine may steal away my heart, and upon my knees I beg the favour never to let me leave you again: I know that I cannot with safety appear in Mytelene, and that I am to continue yet a long time banished: But if it be so that you do love me, you will also banish yourself for the love of me: For the very truth is Madam, I will never be absent from you again; and I am so fully resolved upon it, that though I were sure Pittacus would arrest me to morrow, yet would I not stir, for I had rather be his prisoner then not your slave Madam, and I would endure any torment in the world, rather than hazard the losing you. Try Madam (said he unto her) whether you are able to undertake a bold resolution: I have left Sicily you see, as soon as I saw there was a necessity of justifying myself in your opinion: Quit therefore Lesbos Madam without regret, to the end you may be as sure of me; I will not limit you Madam, unto any place upon earth, since there is none wherein I cannot find a happiness, so I may see you, and so you be unto me as formerly you have been, and as I hope you will be still, notwithstanding all my imbecilities. But Phaon (said Sappho then) is it possible you should think what you speak? and can I ever think that a man who is so familiar with such a simple person as she whose Letter I sent you, can ever affect me who does nothing resemble her? Tell me Phaon, did you love her? Did you cease loving me? Do you love me yet? or do you now now begin to have some affection to me? must I look upon that love which I see in your eyes as a faithful love? as a feigned love? or as a newly revived love? Look upon it Madam (replied he) as a Love mortal which may sometime hide itself, but can never extinguish: And therefore for your own tranquillity Madam, and for my happiness let us make our fortunes inseparable.  
After this, Sappho desired him to make an ingenuous confession of his last weakness, and to relate all his adventures in Sicily, which he did with so much sincerity, that Sappho was satisfied. Yes Madam (said he unto her) I will confess, that finding there a person whom I loved before I knew you; but Madam, she did afford me only imperfect joys, and my heart was never wholly engaged: I have also received from her some signs of tender affection; but I was without any trouble, ever ready to quit them as soon as you called me back.  
The truth is Madam, I was a little weak, but not inconstant: my eyes 'tis true did find that you were not the only fair one upon Earth; but my heart never found any whom it could truly love but only the most admirable Sappho. And to give you security against any future weakness, I beseech you make choice of what desert Isle you please where we may live together: For my part, I profess that you are my All: and so I may see you, I desire nothing else. Though I did nothing but hear you speak, yet would my felicity be great: the charms of your wit, without being seconded by those of your beauty, are enough to render me most happy: All other persons that ever I met withal are so ill practised in the Art of obliging, that their greatest favours are but trifles in comparison with the least of yours.  
After this, Phaon used many more most tender and passionate expressions unto the admirable Sappho▪ who answered him a long time as if she would not pardon him: but at last her anger cooling whether she would or no, she did not make him despair: but taking a medium between these two extremes, she permitted him to hope for a pardon & promised to meet him the next morning in the same place.  
But Madam, why should I hold you so long from the end of this adventure? Sappho spent the whole night with Agelaste in considering what to resolve upon; and upon serious debate she concluded that she could not live happily upon the earth without the love of Phaon, and that she could not assure herself of his affection as long as he was from her: So that after she had well considered how to order all her business concerning her estate, she resolved to put Phaon unto a great trial of his love by obliging him to follow her in her design of going with Phylire, and by obliging him to follow her upon certainties never to marry her: And hast being requisite in the business, because Phylire was to be married within eight days, and to depart the morrow after the solemnisation; Sappho acquainted Phaon the next day with her resolutions: At the first he liked the proposition of going with her into the Country of the new Sauromates very well, but he found it a hard chapter to promise he would never importune her unto marriage: But at last, since she gave him leave to love her, and promised to love him, he promised to do what she pleased: so as after this, Sappho thought herself the happiest person in the world, and Phaon also thought himself the happiest Lover upon earth, since Agelaste had neither Father nor Mother living, but had lost all which could render Lesbos delightful unto her, she followed the fortune of Sappho who left her own Country with as much joy as Phaon had, to be in her favour And they both of them so satisfied each other by this resolution, that they were most glad to be quit of it. I was not at Mytelene when this passed: My Sister was in Phrigia, and though we had been with Sappho, I believe she would not have imparted her design unto us, lest we should oppose it.  
The greatest motive unto her forwardness in this design was, that knowing there was but one City in all this little Dominion of the new Sauromates, Phaon could not be often from her, so as being satisfied with his love in her presence, she hoped that place would yield her much content, since he could not possibly be long absent from her.  
In the mean time, Agelaste having acquainted Phylire and Clirantes with the design of Sappho and Phaon, they were extremely glad of it, for that Illustrious Sauromate, did know, that all those Persons would easily be admitted into his Country. Also considering the credit which he had with the Queen, he made no question but all this good company would be extremely well entertained. There great comfort in this journey was, that they had no thoughts to take for their subsistence. For Clirantes first assured them, that his estate was sufficient to maintain them all in full lustre, and besides this, It was the custom of the Country for the Prince to give such estates unto such strangers as are received, as is fitting for their quality and merit, and all this, Philires brother did know of a certainty.  
In the mean time, since Sappho did depart with intentions never to return again, she disposed of her estate as if she were going to die, and left Letters which contained her will, in the hands of an old Kinswoman she had with orders not to open them until a month after: After which, the marriage of Clyrantes and Philire was secretly solemnised: And the next morning all this good company embarked, with intentions to pass the Bosphorus of Thrace, and to enter into the Euxine Sea afterwards to land about the Maeotidan lake. But they were no sooner embarked, then there did rise a Tempest which changed their course, for after it had tossed them from place to place, and from shore to shore, it cast them upon Epirus at the foot of a great Rock which is beaten upon by the Leucadian Sea, and upon which is built the Temple of Apollo; This Rock hath also another thing very observable, for it is said that there and from thence Deucalion, when he was in love in Thessalia did throw himself into the Sea, and cooled his passion.  
However, after all this good company had rendered thanks unto the gods there adored, and after their ship was repaired, they embarked and steered their course very prosperously, as Meriontes told me. But Madam, before I tell you any further what he related unto me, I must acquaint you with the wonder of all them in Mytelene when Sappho's Cousin opened the Letters, in which she had declared how her Estate should be disposed of: For when she was gone; she coloured her journey with the accomplishment of a vow to Diana, who had a Temple some three days journey from Lesbos.  
But when they saw she disposed of her Estate as one who would never return again, they kew not what to think.  
In the mean time, out of her generosity, she left almost her Estate unto Charaxes, though they were at great difference; as for all those things which were in her closet, she bequeathed them amongst her friends, not mentioning her design, nor the place unto which she was gone: So as every one thought and spoke according to their fancies. Since some reports went a broad, that she was displeased with Phaon for fallingin Love in Sicily. and since they knew not that he was returned unto her, some believed that she was gone unto him, others said that she cast herself away, and indeed this last belief was the most general, though not the most probable. For since it was known that Sappho was at her house in the country, before she embarked; the Plebeians, who always love wonders, and often believe them sooner than probalities, did say, that as she was by the side of that pleasant Fountain which I mentioned a Nagade appeared unto her, who did bid her go unto Epirus, and that she should throw herself into the sea, in a place where a Deucalion formerly had thrown himself, and that she should there be cured of her passion, as he was of his, adding afterwards, that Sappho did immediately obey the Nagade, that she went unto Epirus, that she did precipitate herself, and that death in the end cured her passion. But the truth was, the more understanding sort of people, did not credit any such far fetched unlike stories; for Sappho was known to be wiser than so: Also after I was returned unto Mytelene, I made such exact inquisition, that at last, this friend of Phaons' with whom he had concealed himself some certain days, did discover unto me that Phaon had been with him, that he had seen Sappho very often, and that he was gone away with her, but since he knew no further, I was still ignorant of my friend's design: However, I was so far satisfied, that I knew Sappho was not dead, and that Phaon was happy in her favour, for I might well imagine, that they would never have gone together, unless they had been very well reconciled. But the passage most observable was, that though Phylire, her brother, and Agelaste were vanished as well as Sappho, yet they were not so much as mentioned; for Sappho's adventure did so take up their spirits and minds, that they talked of none but her.  
In the mean time, the poor Nycanor was a gainer by this accident; for when he heard that Sappho had drowned herself, because she thought Phaon perfidious he cured himself of his passion, thinking it not fit to love the memory of one whose love was so extreme to another:  
As for Damophile, she was the only one who rejoiced at Sappho's ruin, because than she thought herself the only wise woman in Mytelene.  
But Madam, after my sister was returned from Phrygia, we discovered that Clirantes had married Phylire before they departed, so as remembering we heard from Clirantes an admirable description of his Country's Laws, we imagined, that it was thither unto which Sappho, Phaon, and Agelaste were gone, and so confidently, as to satisfy myself, I underdertook this voyage with Leontidus, whom I met.  
In the mean time, I may say that this journey did prosper neither well nor ill: For I understood by the valiant Meriontes, that Sappho and Phaon were received by the Sauromartan queen, with more honours than ever were done unto any strangers, that she was lodged in the Queens own Palace, that Phaon was lodged in Glirantes his house, that they were both of them the delights of that Court, that Phylire is there in high esteem, and that Agela●●e hath gotten the hearts of all the Gallantry. But that which is most considerable, Phaon is at this present, the most faithful Lover in the world, and Sappho the happiest person upon Earth, for she is adored by all the Court, it is she who distributes all the favours which the Queen of Sauromates confers upon any; and she sees Phaon continue constant in most servant and everlasting affections. And yet they had a little quarrel since they came thither, for since there are Laws and Rules for Love, and since there are Judges who study nothing but what relates unto that passion, Phaon commenced a suit against Sappho, because she would nor permit him to hope ever to marry her: Sappho, she put in her answer, and pleaded her own cause, as Phaon did his, and both did it most admirably well: But in conclusion, Sappho did make it so evidently appear, that the way to love eternally with equal flames, was never to marry, that the Judges gave sentence against Phaon, and condemned him not to urge her any more by way of suit; declaring, that it was a favour which he ought to expect from herself, and that he would esteem himself the most happy Lover in the Earth, and being loved by the most excellent person in the world, and by a person who would not deny him the enjoyment of herself, but only because she would always enjoy his heart; so as after this, they lived in the sweetest tranquillity that is imaginable: But what is most cruel for me, is, that Meriontes told me, Sappho and Phaon were so afraid, lest any should come from Mytelene to disturb their happiness, as they have obliged the Queen, strictly to forbid the reception of any strangers into that country for ten years, so as my journey is stopped. Thus whilst Sappho is enjoying the good fortune which she deserves, she is believed to be dead throughout all Greece, and will ever be so believed; for I understand that the ship which carried them, did perish in its return.  
Thus whilst this famous Lesbian is doubtless every day composing most gallant, and passionate fancies in Verse, all the illustrious wits of Greece, are writing Epitaphs unto her glory.  
Democedes having ended, all the company was so full of wonder, that none were able to impose silence upon themselves, and if the business of the invincible Cyrus had not urged his return, the applauds of Sappho had taken up all those illustrious persons a longer time. But as the fervent love of Phaon and Sappho did revive his Love of Mandana in his heart, he hasted away, to see if Anacharsis had sent any good news from Thomyris, therefore after many a compliment unto the Queen of Pontus, and the Princess of Armenia, he bade them adieu, but to the great grief of those Princesses, Tygranes, and Spitridates followed Cyrus, and had not time enough to show the sorrows which they had to leave them, yet Spitridates took an opportunity to draw Araminta aside, and expressed so much aflection unto her, that she could not choose but show some of her tenderness unto him. I perceive Madam (said he unto her after many other things) that I never find you, but I presently lose you again, and I no sooner begin my joys at the seeing of you; but I must grieve for parting from you. But my comfort is (added he) we shall be so near, that I shall every day let you know my sufferings, as I send you the victories of Cyrus.  
Since there is no victory, but may cost too dear, (replied she most obligingly) I shall never be at rest: For truly Spitridates, we are both of us born under such unhappy Planets, that doubtless our Fears ought to be greater than our Hopes, However Madam, (said Spitridates) I shall not lose my hope, of being loved by you, if the Gods be pleased I should live after the victory of Cyrus, or else of being lamented, if they are resolved I should perish in the War, so death not forbidding my hope, you Madam I hope will give me leave to preserve it: For I find it so sweet to be assured I shall receive testimonies of your affection living or dead, that no thought can be more pleasing unto me. And therefore Madam, that these thoughts may never abandon me, do me the honour to tell me, that I have reason to entertain them: you may be so assured of them Sir, answered she, as you would do me an injury to ask me new assurances. Hope therefore Spitridates, as muchas you can for happiness (said she and blushed) and I will in your absence both hope and wish the sight of you again.  
After this, Cyrus having done all his civilities, Spitridates must leave A●iminta; And Tigranes must content himself to tell his fair Onesile in two words, that his heart was full of sorrow to part so soon.  
Cyrus' in his return to the Camp called Leontidus to him; with whom he thought that he had not talked enough concerning Thrasibulus, yet he talked not to him all of that Prince, for he sked him of his love, and asked him the meaning, of that which he said, when he assured him, that he had no mind to expose himself unto the most dangerous of all jealousies; Sir, replied Leontidas, I can quickly give you satisfaction in that: For after I had been jealous of my friends, of my enemies, of my equals, of inferiors of superiors, I found that Alcidamea who had lost her beauty, did recover it again, and I found her so favourable, that I saw I could marry her But Sir, when I saw myself in this condition I perceived also, that I should be still jealous after I had married her, for seeking about for her reason why she should so suddenly change her thoughts of me, I found out that she lodged very near one of her ancient Lovers. Also I was resolved, that if I did marry her, to carry her into the Country the very next day. So as perceiving in my heart a disposition to be a jealous Husband, as I had ever been a jealous Lover. I conceived that I should have lived a most miserable life, if I had married Alcidamea, therefore out of my fears of hating her and being hated myself, I thought it better not to marry her; for I may cease to be jealous in ceasing to love, but when I am a Husband and jealous, than Jealousy will not cease with the passion which caused it; but this thing called Honour which causeth so much jealousy as well as love causeth jealousy to last till death, and would never let me live in quiet. For there is no reconciliations of Husbands and Wives, as there is between Lovers and Mistresses, the one hath a thousand sweets in it, and the other nothing but quarrels and persecutions. And therefore Sir, having had trial of all sorts of jealousies, and apprehending this kind to be the worst of all, I am resolved never to try it but have broke off with Alcidamia, never to renew again.  
If you had been as much in love as you were when you thought Polycrates loved your Mistress (replied Cyrus) you would not have been so foreseeing, nor would you have refused the enjoyment of her: But certainly so many several sorts of Jealousies have damped your passion, and being then more prudent than amorous, perhaps you known that Alcidamia would always give you causes of jealousy.  
However it be Sir (added he) I am fully resolved never to love any thing but glory: and knowing I could meet with it no where so soon as with you, I am come to die in your service, or at least to fight for the liberty of the Princess Mandana.  
Cyrus' having returned a very civil answer unto Leontidus, he talked a little with Democedes concerning the most admirable Sappho, and so afterwards unto every one which followed, especially unto Spitridates and Tigranes, whom he lodged next unto his own Tent: And to testify his confidence in them, he showed them the next mornnig the manner of his Encampment; and conferred with them of his design to assault the Enemy as soon as the Truce was ended: In order to that, he observed unto them the situation of the ground, & all the advantages which might be taken, every one giving his opinion and his reason for it. But since the opinion of Spitridates did not concur with that of Cyrus, who thought it better to go unto the Enemy another way than that which Cyrus showed him, he intended silently to go and observe the several Quarters nearest hand, and the rather, because the Truce did afford him the liberty.  
On the other side, whilst Anacharsis was negotiating in vain with Thomyris and Arcantes, Aripithes was extremely angry, because the Queen of Massagettes did use him so ill, so as his fancy was full of violent resolutions. And indeed, the Prince conceiving that if Cyrus were dead, than he might sooner gain the heart of that Queen, he resolved that either he, or his Rival should perish. In order to this, he stole away in the night from the Camp of Thomyris, and went towards that of Cyrus, disguised in the habit of a Persian, the better to pass un-observed amongst the Troops of that Prince: For knowing his generosity and courage, he was persuaded, that as he had fought with the King of Assyria, and offered the like unto Ariantes, so he would not deny him the same honour: So as taking his way, he came about Sunrising unto a little hill which was between the two Camps, where Spitridates was also arrived, the better to observe the several grounds which he thought most fit to seize upon to fight the Enemy with advantage, and to the end that afterwards he might better persuade Cyrus. In the mean time this Prince having none with him but one Squire, as Aripithes had, they met upon equal terms.  
Spitridates seeing Aripithes in the habit of a Persian, did not at first take him for an Enemy: But Aripithes being mistaken by the resemblance which Spitridates had with Cyrus; he no sooner saw him, but supposing him to be his Rival, he was so transported with fury, that his eyes were not able to discern the little difference which was between those two Princes. Indeed, he thought that Cyrus had something more high and noble in his Air than Spitridatee had, though Spitridates had as brave a presence as any man in the world. The soul of Aripithes then being swelled with all the animosity of a despised Lover, he drew his sword; and advancing towards him whom he looked upon as the only Eclipser of his glory and felicity: Though I never saw you since you bore the name of Artamenes (said he unto him in the Assyrian Language, which Spitridates understood) yet I can know you to be Cyrus, and will look upon you as one that shall be a Victim offered unto the love of Aripithes, who cannot be happy as long as you are living.  
Were I indeed Cyrus (replied Spitridates, and went back apace to draw his Sword) the event of the Combat would not be dubious, but your defeat would be infallible: Yet though I am not so valiant as he, yet perhaps I shall let you see that I shall easily overcome any Enemy of his: Aripithes being all fury, did but confusedly understand what Spitridates said: but in lieu of answer, he fell upon that Prince who received him with so much vigour, that Aripithes had not leisure to undeceive himself of his error, that it was Cyrus whom he fought with:  
Spitridates looking upon his Antagonist as an Enemy unto Cyrus, he fought with as much fear as if he had been his own particular Enemy, so as Aripithes found his valour too weak to vanquish such an Enemy: insomuch as fury being the absolute mistress of his mind, he exposed himself in such a desperate manner as it was easy to see, he was resolved either to vanquish, or die, and wished for no more but either victory, or death: Yet he fought so valiantly, that he moved Spitridates to esteem him, though he knew him not; for he saw, that if this fierce Enemy had managed all his advantages well, he had found him a hard task to overcome: Not but that the blows of Aripithes did hit, and pierced the arms of his Enemy in many places: but Fortune did enfeeble the arm of Aripithes, purposely to preserve Spitridates, who had only one slight hurt in his left arm; whereas on the contrary, Spitridates could not touch Aripithes, but he sangu●h'd his arms, and wounded him in so many places, that he saw the victory was not like to be his; nor could he hope for any help from his Squire, for he was also vanquished by him who belonged unto Spitridates.  
Things being thus, Cyrus knowing that Spitridates was gone to view the places which raised their Contest: and desiring to see them again, he arrived at the place where this Duel was fought: so as knowing Aripithes at first, and doubting but that he was mistaken in the resemblance of Spitridates unto him, he went hastily to them to let this Sauromate Prince see his error, and to make him repent his assaulting a Prince who was not his Enemy. And adding words unto his Presence, Aripithes knew him; and was so astonished, that he recoiled some paces back to consider upon the strange adventure. After that he plainly saw his mistake, had I seen the blood of my Enemy (said he unto Spitridates) I should not repent had I let it out as I do of yours; nor should I ever have complained of that which I have lost, or of my being vanquished: I am so fully persuaded, valiant stranger (replied Spitridates modestly) that it was the name of Cyrus which vanquished you, that I do not pretend unto the glory of our Combat, since it is rather the fortune of that Prince's Arms which are invincible, than my own valour which kept me from being vanquished. No (said Cyrus) since you have supplied my place, the valour of Aripithes found greater resistance than he could have from me: But valiant Enemy (said he and turned towards him) since you have a desire I should be yours, I am well contented to be so, though I am not your Rival. And to stay until you are in a condition to find the difference between the valour of Spitridates and mine, let me conduct you into one of my Tents, that you may be dressed with as much care as if you were the best of my friends: No, replied Aripithes fiercely, for generous Enemies ought not to receive any thing from each other but death. And because I will not lessen my hatred by receiving of benefits, I will refuse your offer, and desire no other favour from you, but to let me return unto the Camp of Thomyris.  
Though I might very well treat you as a Spy (replied Cyrus) since you are found in a disguised habit during the Treaty: Yet I will not, but will let you have a Coach to carry you where you please. Aripithes at first refused this last favour, but at last perceiving he was not able to ride, he was forced to accept of it: And Cyrus sent immediately to seek a Coach and Surgeons, and left one to help his Squire to hold him up, for he was not able to stand by himself. Spitridates at parting gave him a very civil Compliment, unto which the other answered with a kind of surly civility. After which, this Prince followed Cyrus, to persuade him unto his opinion concerning the ground which they had viewed.  
In the mean time, since he had received a little hurt in his left arm, Cyrus would see him dressed, though Spitridates would not have him: and since the arms of that Prince were cut in several places, Cyrus sent him those rich Arms which he wore the first time when the forty Cavaliers conspired to kill him, and since wore upon several great occasions. Since they were very rich and magnificent, the Present was worthy both of the giver and Receiver.  
In the mean time, the five days of Treaty being expired, and Anacharsis had effected nothing, this sage Scythian was forced to leave Thomyris unto her bad destinies, and came unto Cyrus. But it is observable, that before he departed, he understood how that Queen hearing how Aripithes was returned wounded, and that he went from the Camp with a design of kill Cyrus, she was so incensed against him, that she commanded him to retire; for though she much complained against Cyrus, yet she did not wish his death: so as not being able to hide her angry resentments: and Aripithes hearing of them, he was so grieved, that he died within twenty four hours after. But Thomyris was not long in this mind; for so it chanced, that on the last day of the Treaty, Cyrus writ unto Mandana, and sent her Letter by a disguised servant, to the end Gelonide might convey it unto that Princess: This Letter in lieu of coming to the hands of Gelonide, did fall into the hands of Thomyris; for the servant being stopped by the way by some accident or other, he came not to the place where the Queen was until an hour after the Treaty ended: but it did so perplex the heart of this Princess, that hatred took the place of Love: For Cyrus thinking this would be the last Letter which he should write unto Mandana, before the end of the War, which could never end before either his death, or the liberty of his Princess, he writ it with un-imaginable passionateness concerning her, and with extreme bitterness concerning Thomyris.  
The truth is, all the most tender expressions which the most zealous love could invent, were included within this Letter, which came to the hands of this Queen whose spirits were so much incensed at it, that if Cyrus had promised her some eternal affection, and had by this given her some testimonies of his inconstancy, she could not possibly have been more incensed against him: So as thinking upon nothing but War and Revenge, and all her Forces being in as good a posture as she could wish, she prepared for a Combat.  
Ariantes on his side, seeing that a Battle must be fought to decide this great business upon which depended the happiness or misery of so many illustrious persons, began to think upon all manner of stratagems which might ruin Cyrus: and finding that it would be a marvellous disadvantage to him, if Thomyris could get the Fort of Sauromates into her power, because then if the Army of Cyrus were engaged on this side the woods, he had no place of retreat in case he were overcome: and therefore he imagined all manner of ways how to bring this great design about.  
Cyrus' on the other side being much perplexed that Thomyris by her frivolous Negotiations had retarded his designs, he did begin to think how he might by his diligence gain that time which had been lost: Yet he had the satisfaction of being commended by the wise Anacharsis, who declared him free from all the sad consequences of this War. After which, he went unto the Queen of Pontus, and the Princess of Armenia at the Fort of Sauromates.  
In the mean while, how desirous soever both sides were of fight, yet it was a long time before any assaults were given; because each side watching for advantage, and unwilling to hazard a definitive Battle rashly, they would not fall on without some appearance of it.: But in the interim of all these great preparations, Mandana lived in such a general ignorance as that she knew nothing; For neither the Princess of Bythinia, nor Istrina, nor Arpasia did see her, so as she had no other consolation but what she had from Doralisa and Martesia. Yet she had so much satisfaction as to imagine, that if things went not on the side of Cyrus, they would tell her: For Thomiris and Ariantes used always to let her know the worst, but concealed the best news from her: And since it was many days since they told her any thing, she concluded by infallible consequence, that the side of Cyrus had the advantage: Thus her hopes that Cyrus would be victorious, and she ere long released, did afford her soul much tranquillity.  
But at last, after long watching for advantages on both sides, both Cyrus and Thomyris resolved to give Battle: And though Cyrus could have wished a little longer delay, because he knew that a very great force which Ciaxares sent him was very nigh: Yet since he never in his life refused fight when any occasion was offered, he could not now recoil: so as every one in both Armies preparing for a Fight, one might have seen the very same spirit, and the same zeal in two huge Armies. On the one side, Thomyris and Ariantes omitted nothing which might conduce to obtain the victory. On the other side, Cyrus and Mandanes were as vigilant and circumspect as possible, to vanquish and release Mandana. Myrsiles, Intaphernes, Atergatis, and Hidaspes exasperated by interest of Love, they did contribute their whole assistance unto Cyrus, and to get the victory: And the last of these had a new reason to desire it, for he understood that Meliantes was in the Tents Royal, and that Lycander did not know him to be his Rival.  
Moreover, Artamus, Tygranes, Spitridates, and all the rest of the brave Ones in this Army, prepared themselves for victory or death. But though Cyrus at other times when he was ready to give battle, was wont to be all joy, yet now his spirits were not so tranquil as he was wont, and he perceived in himself such a secret melancholy (the cause of which he knew not) as seemed a bad Omen unto him. Yet he did dissemble it as much as he could, and tempered his sad thoughts with reason: Indeed, he was as active as if he resented no such thoughts, yet that day he would wear only a a common suit of Arms; but as for Spitridates, he wore those which Cyrus gave him, and he wore them with so good a grace, and so noble a Air, as he was much more resembling that illustrious Hero; Indeed many soldiers who knew not that Cyrus had given those rich arms unto Spitridates, did take him for Cyrus, and were deceived by that marvellous resemblance which was between them. However, though Cyrus had only common Arms, yet he had so high an Air, and such a Princely command, that it was easy to see, that it was his admirable presence which was his only ornament, and which attracted the looks of all about him: But at last after Orders were given in both Armies, some certain spies which Cyrus had in the Army of Thomyris, returned unto his, who acquainted him that in the morning, there had been a combat betwixt two strangers who were with that Queen, the name of the one was Meliantes, and the other Lycander; that the first had killed the● second, and that the Conqueror was still in favour with Thomyris, and would be in the battle, relating afterwards, all they knew concerning the Enemy's Army.  
Hydaspes being then with Cyrus, heard what the spies said, for he commanded them to speak aloud before Hydaspes, so as being exceedingly grieved that this amiable Rival was not killed by the Ravisher of Arpasia, he made a hundred vows to meet him in the battle, and to have a particular combat with him in the general battle, for he always had observed that Meliantes was so much in Arpasias' favour that he could not choose but be jealous, yet since that place was not fit for the expressing the resentments of his Soul, he said not a word unto Cyrus, whose mind was so taken up with desires of vanquishing, that he took no notice of Hydaspes.  
In the mean while, the fatal moment destined for the beginning of this bloody battle being come, the two Armies which were drawn up, almost with equal advantage, advanced; and as soon as ever they were within bow shot, a cloud of Arrows began to dusk the Air: But when their Quires were emptied, and that all their other Engines had done their Execution, the sword undertook to decide this great and terrible days work, which did nothing resemble the battles which Cyrus formerly sought: For in other battles he always fought his Troops in order, but in this he could not possibly, and there was such a confusion in both Armies, that the soldiers hardly knew their own colours.  
However, the fight was sharp and bloody, and there was such an animosity between the Combatants, as there appeared the same cruelty in both of them. As for Cyrus, his actions were this day so prodigious, that were they particularised, they would be incredible, for in the midst of this great disorder, where death looked grim on all sides, he helped the feeble, rallied those which fled, and going continually from place to place, it may be said, that he run through all the dangers of the battle, yet his care could not bring him to meet with Ariantes, but he killed the valiant Octomasades with his own hand, and he made his way through all places where his sword did glitter: Indeed, this great Prince being seconded by the valour of Mazares, and so many valiant Commanders and brave men, that he had put his Enemies so to rout, as the victory had been his without dispute, Thomiris and Ariantes had been ruined, and Mandana released, had it not been for one piece of ill news which he received. For as he was in this glorious condition, intelligence was brought him, that Andramites had surprised the Fort of Sauromates, that he had sent the Queen of Pontus, and the Princess of Armenia, unto the Tents Royal; that Anacharsis and the King of Hyrcania, were in the Fort very slenderly guarded; that Andramites told Meriontes that he was free, and that Meriontes told him again, he would not be so, but would return unto Cyrus as soon as he could take horse, for he would not be delivered by any hand, but that which had saved his life: Adding, that Andramites was with his Troops, between the Fort and the Wood which was burnt.  
This news doubtless did much trouble Cyrus, but since the bringers of it, had told it confusedly unto all they met, it had such ill consequences, that it entirely changed the destiny of the battle, for things were told and heard in tumult, they are never rightly understood, so as passing in a short time from mouth to mouth, in the very midst of the Combat, the tale was so changed, that it was told the Vanguard, that the Rearguard was routed, that the Army of Cyrus was set about on all sides, and that Thomyris herself in person, was at the Fort of Sauromates, to hinder Cyrus in his retreat.  
This false news did so blunt the valour of the soldiers, that from hopes of being Conquerors, they fell to fears of being conquered, and indeed were like to be so; for they were so full of Panic fears, that the flying Enemy perceiving it, did rally again, and the destiny changing, athey shrunk before those whom they put to rout: Spitridates, who was gone to the left wing, after this ill news was known, he was so compassed by those whom fears had most put into confusion, that he did what he could to infuse courage into them, and to bring them to fight, but he could not, yet he reassembled a little body, with which he kept his ground, but it was so inconsiderable in comparison of that vast body which was before him, that as brave as he was, he thought it impossible to retreat without dishonour, but this Prince wearing those rich arms which Cyrus had formerly so gloriously worn, he thought himself obliged to do something extraordinary, and therefore he encouraged those whom he had rallied to second him in his design, and by his example, to move those who fled to return, so as in this dangerous occasion he did things worthy his resemblance of Cyrus.  
In the mean time, Ariantes being in the head of those who were before Spitridates also knowing those arms, and being mistaken by the resemblance between Cyrus and that Prince, he verily thought him to be his Rival, so as he made to-towards him, and assaulted him with such vigour, that it was apparent, he was persuaded; if he could overcome this terrible Enemy, he should overcome the whole Army.  
On the other side, Spitridates seeing himself so hotly set upon, did defend himself in such an heroic manner, that if the little body in which he was, had been able to held up against that which Ariantes commanded, he had not been overcome, but being extremely ●nequall in number, they were entirely broken, do what Spitridates could, who was already wounded in several places.  
However, since he was parted from Ariantes, by the tumult in the combat, he thought that he might retreat; but as he was endeavouring it, he was compassed about you with fifteen or twenty Massagettans or Gelons, who thinking him to be Cyrus, and thinking to end the war by ending his life, never endeavoured to take him prisoner, lest his valour should then become master of theirs, but falling all at once upon Spitridates, this great and unfortunate Prince, did see himself in most extreme danger: However, though he had none with him but a very few of his own men, yet he encouraged them to do as he did, and indeed they did so bravely second him, that if a Javelin which run him through, had not made him fall from his horse, he had been able to have vanquished his vanquishers. But as soon as this illustrious Prince was fallen, some of his men coming to him; and desiring to stay with him: No, no my companions, (said he unto them,) you must not stay with me, for it is here where I must die, but it is not here where you must vanquish, and get that Princess whom I adore, out of the power of the cruel Thomyris: These generous words being heard by the enemy, they were more persuaded that Spitridates was Cyrus, for they thought that the Princess whom he spoken of was the Princess Mandana, though Spitridates doubtless meant Araminta, whom he heard Andramites had sent unto the Tents Royal, so as falling upon him all at once, they killed him out right though his men did as much as men could do to hinder them, and then began such a resolute combat for his body, as never was the like, for since a report went among the soldiers which fled, that Cyrus was on that side, some of them rallied, and fought with more courage to revenge their Prince whom they thought dead, and to defend his corpse, than they had done to obtain the victory. But Ariantes side being the stronger, they carried away this illustrious Corpse, and slew all those who made resistance: All this while, Cyrus seeing the general terror in all his Troops, and not being able to be every where, he sent about his friends several ways, to try if they could infuse heart into them, whilst he endeavoured to rally those who were about him.  
He sent therefore Mazares on one side, and Artamus on another, and likewise he dispersed Intaphernes, Atergatis, Indathersis, Hydaspes, and all the brave ones of his Army, so as sending them away one after another, as he thought most expedient, there stayed not one man of command with him, and there remained none but his very self to rally all his dispersed Troops. Indeed he assembled together a few scattered soldiers, and drawing them into a little body, he did not only hold a great one in play, but routed them, and killed abundance with his own hand: Those whom he sent unto several places to do the like, did so well obey him, that they each of them rallied a little body of men, with which they slew abundance of their Enemies, so as they did not lose so many men in the last battle which Cyrus won, as they did at this time. Yet since all these petty divisions did fight only particular combats, and did not join, Cyrus could not see any hopes of vanquishing; but however, he had hopes of not being overcome, if the noise of his death had not been divulged amongst the Enemy; who taking fresh hearts, and crying out unto those they fought with, that Cyrus was dead did strike a great terror in those places where that Prince was not, so as night coming on, the Massagettans remained upon the field as Masters.  
Cyrus' seeing himself in this pitiful condition, bethought himself how he might, not fall into the hands of Thomyris, so that he with only twenty did most prodigiously disengage themselves from at the least two hundred who had set them about; but in his retreat, he met with another body of men, in the head of whom was the young and valiant Meliantes, who ' was seeking all about for Hydaspes, and could not meet with him; so as to comfort himself by the defeat of those he met withal, he fell upon them. Since his number was very unequal, and he a brave man without cruelty, he offered to give them quarter if they would lay down Arms. But Cyrus being unaccustomed to receive any such favours from any with Arms in their hands, he answered them only with blows, and defended himself in such an heroic manner, that he stood the last of his own men in the midst of his Enemy's without one wound. But since his courage made Meliantes admire him, he charged his men not to kill him, but to take him, which they could hardly have done, if the sword of Cyrus had not broken.  
But at last, when he saw himself single and without arms, he did not make any vain resistance; but still preserving his Judgement sound in the midst of all these dangers, he bethought himself how to render himself unto some Officer who was not a Massagettan, lest he should be known, and having observed by the commands which Meliantes gave, that he had the tone of an Assyrian, and that he was no subject unto Thomyris, he rendered himself unto him.  
Meliantes thinking himself obliged unto him for his choice, he promised that he should be used according to the merit of his valour, and to testify (said he unto him) how much your bravery hath purchased my esteem, though it be almost night, yet you shall not be bound as other prisoners use to be, only I require your word that you will not escape.  
Cyrus' considering his condition, accepted his civility, and Meliantes desiring him to ride next him, and hearing a retreat sounding in all quarters, he took the way towards the camp, but in the way, Oh Heavens, what did the miserable Cyrus think? what sorrows did he not suffer? for he saw his army defeated, he saw himself a prisoner and he could not hope to pass as unknown long Yet since he unto whom he had rendered himself did not know him, he had some comfort, and carried himself so well all the way that he confirmed him in his intention of treating him well.  
And indeed, though Cyrus had that day very mean Arms, and did not affect to speaks like a man of any extraordinary parts, yet Meliantes after he saw him in his Tent, did make no question, but that he was a prisoner of some great quality, and remembering how long he himself had been a prisoner when he was taken by the Troops of Cyrus in Assyria, he would render the same civilities which he received: For since Hydaspes did imprison him only out of jealous resentments, he was treated very favourably, so that Meliantes being charmed with the valour, the Spirit, the handsome Presence, and the constancy of his prisoner, he carried him into his Tent, and caused all his men to be as respective to him as to himself: Nor was he (out of a generous resentment) very forward in divulging what he thought of his prisoners quality until he knew it a little better, intending not to discover it unto Thomyris, if it proved to be as great as he did imagine it: Unless his quality was such as might oblige that Queen to put Arpasia into his power; for since he had no dependence upon Thomyris, he was resolved to do his prisoner no ill office, if the interest of his Love did not oblige him unto it: Thus Cyrus not knowing any thing, Meliantes was thinking how he might best keep his prisoner from being known who he was.  
In the mean time, Cyrus being ignorant of Meliantes his thoughts, and judging by his Air, and Physiognomy, that happily he might be in Love, he thought it expedient to tell him in obscure terms, that the interest of a passion which was predominate in his soul required that he should be unknown in the Camp of Thomyris, and that afterwards he should conjure him to do him that good Office.  
And indeed Cyrus did express himself so sweetly, that he obliged Meliantes to promise him any thing. And though Meliantes knew very well that his Prisoner would not discover all his secret; yet since he doubted not but that he was in love, he added compassion unto his esteem; and expressed himself so generously unto Cyrus, that this great Prince was charmed with his virtue. Yet the soul of Cyrus was not so tranquil, as to set his mind wholly upon any thing which did not relate unto the present state and interest of his love: But when he remembered all the Victories which he had gotten, and considered the pitiful condition wherein he was, he could not choose but wonder at the fickleness of fortune, and grieve for his own misery.  
For indeed it now depended wholly upon Meliantes, whether he would present him unto Thomyris, or put him into the hands of his Rival; nor did he know whether his whole Army was defeated: whether Mazares was dead or taken Prisoner, and whether so many Princes as were his friends, might rally his Troops, and join them with that puissant relief which Ciaxares sent him, nor did he know how they could join, if it was true that Andramites had considerable forces between the Fort and the Wood But his greatest perplexity was the thought that they would presently acquaint Mandana with his defeat: So as fearing lest the alteration in his fortune should work upon that heart of that Princess, he suffered unexpressable torments: And he thought his condition so deplorable, that he believed the answer of the Sibyl would presently be fulfilled, and that he should perish by the cruelty of Thomyris.  
But whilst he was in all these melancholy cogitations, all his men were in a strange inquietude. For since he appeared no where, they thought him either dead or taken Prisoner. So as never was such a doleful murmur heard.  
Croesus', Mazares, Myrsiles, Artamus, Gdbrius, Gadates, Intaphernes. Atergatis, Indathersis, Hidaspes, and all those who had any command in the Army, endeavoured to persuade their Soldiers, that Cyrus, was not dead, lest after they had rallied them, they should run away again: Likewise they did not think it expedient, to say that they thought him a Prisoner, nor to send unto the Camp of Thomyris to inquire of him; lest if he should be there unknown unto the enemy. So that all these Princes said, that Cyrus seeing in what a bad condition the Army was, was gone to the Auxiliaries which Ciaxares sent, so that being in the head of a fresh Army he might vanquish his vanquishers: Adding, (since Spitridates appeared not) that they were both gone together: For the truth was, they knew not what was become of either.  
However Chrisantes and Feraidas who were grieved beyond measure, that nothing was known concerning their illustrious Master, they disguised themselves in the habit of Massagettans, to the end they might the better pass through the enemy's Camp, and hear what they said of him.  
Thus, whilst Croesus and Mazares by the consent of all the Princes did take upon them the command of the Rallied Troops, until it was known what was become of Cyrus; These two faithful servants, went not only unto the Camp of Thomyris, but also unto the Tents Royal which were very near, whether they understood the Queen was gone, presently after the Battle: Indeed, a chance happened, which caused this incensed and amorous Queen to take that Resolution. For since those who killed Spitridates took him for Cyrus, and since one of those who commanded the Gelons in that Army, had a most fierce and cruel soul, he had cut off the head of that unfortunate Prince; and being followed by his companions, who carried the Corpse upon crossed Lances, he did present it unto Thomyris, whose mind being extremely incensed against Cyrus, by reason of the last letter which she saw, she received this sad present, in a most inhuman manner. Yet at the first apprehension, she thought to turn away her eyes from such a terrible object, but recollecting all her rage and the animosity of her heart, she beheld it afterwards, without any symptoms of compassion, though her mind was much perplexed. And the more when this Captain who presented this glorious victim, told her the words which Spitridates spoke, when being fallen, he bade his men go away, because that was the place where he was to die, but not where they were to vanquish and deliver the Princess whom he adored, by forcing her out of the power of Thomyris. Then did her hatred double. For thinking this to be the head of Cyrus, those last words did so revives and augment her choler, that stifling all thoughts of love, humanity and compassion, she was inflamed with jealousy, hatred and fury, she renounced all the tenderness of her sex, and dignity of her birth, and yet for an umbrage of her inhumanity, she seemed to be much troubled: So that without a word of her Passion, she began again to speak of Cyrus as the murderer of her son, and as a Prince who to satisfy the gust of his ambition, did quench it with Rivers of blood: She gave the Captain of the Gelons as many thanks as if he had won her a hundred Battles, she made him huge promises of large recompenses, and commanded him to follow her with that illustrious head in his hand. So that after she had sent to acquaint Ariantes (who was rallying his Troops which were much weaker than those of the Rival) that Cyrus was dead, & that he should stay in the Camp, she took horse being attended with her Guard, and two hundred Archers, this Captain going behind her, and carrying the head which he had presented:  
But the observation was, that those who saw this Queen ride in this cruel manner, were all most horridly ashamed at her, and pitied him whom they imagined dead. For all the Massagettans did so well know, that the War which Cyrus made was just, and that Thomyris was in the wrong, that they were much grieved at this triumphant Tragedy.  
However since it was night, and since she had found out a way to persecute Mandana, though she could not be revenged upon Cyrus in a manner so sensible, she would stay until it was day to act a piece of cruelty wherein she hoped for great delight. So that commanding that a great Basin should be filled with blood, and set in the plain which was before the Tents and especially before Atandanas whether they had brought Ariminta and the Princess Onesile, she came thither the next morning with all her Guard, and all those who were in the Tents Royal. Yet she had passed away the night in most terrible and strange apprehensions, for sometimes, the image of Cyrus living, made her pity his death, and sometimes the constant love of that Prince unto Mandana made her rejoice he was not living, yet it was a most restless and tumultuous joy, which left such small signs of delight in her eyes, that nothing was to be seen in them, but signs of fury and rage.  
Thomyris was that day dressed, as when she went into the Wars, and she held a staff of command in her hand which she always used with a menacing action, though she had no enemy near to fight with all. Yet to be more sensibly revenged upon Cyrus in the person of Mandana, This incensed Queen caused the Tent of that most excellent Princess to be set open with whom was Araminta, One sile, Doralisa, and Martesia, to the end they might behold the saddest spectacle that their eyes could look upon.  
Since it was not known, what Thomyris intended to do with this great Basin full of blood, which she had caused to be set before Mandanas' Tent, curiosity had flocked together a huge crowd of all manner of people, who all talked of what was intended, with much incertainty.  
But at last, Thomyris coming out of her Tent, and the Captain of the Gelons following her with the supposed head of Cyrus, all the people fixed their looks upon this sad object. And Mandana and Ariminta looking on as the rest did, had thoughts which others had not, for though this head was disfigured, yet it kept a great resemblance of Cyrus. So that Mandana not questioning, but that it was the head of Cyrus whom she loved with a most pure and innocent affection; her sorrows did surprise her in so strange a manner, that after she had made a most doleful scrike, her voice failed her upon a sudden: As for Ariminta, though she could not suspect that this was the head of Spitridates, because she knew not why Thomyris should be so cruel against him, yet the death of Cyrus, the grief of Mandana, and the cruelty of Thomyris did much move her.  
However, this incensed Queen, after she had caused the head to be showed unto the people, and told them in few words that now Peace was like to ensue since she could show them the head of him who had caused the War and murdered her son she commanded him who held this illustrious head, to plunge it three times in this Basin full of blood; To the end, (said she being transported with fury and jealousy) that he whose thirst of it could never be quenched whilst he lived, yet he might have enough of it when he was dead.  
This terrible command was no sooner given, but this Gelon Captain whose nature was cruel, did plung this head, three times in the Basin of blood, and took it out again in such a condition as caused horror in all those who had any humanity in them.  
This sad spectacle dejected the eyes of all the Spectators, and the cruel Thomyris herself, could not choose but turn away her head, lifting up her eyes towards Heaven, rather as cursing then imploring the gods. But as for the sad Mandana, when she saw the blood run down from all parts of this head as she lost her speech by the first sight, so she lost her sight and understanding at the second; and swooned between the Arms of Doralisa and Martesia.  
In the mean time, Chrisantes and Feraulus coming just as this cruel Executioner did plung this head into the Basin of bloody, they shared with Mandana in her sorrows, for since they did not see the Arms of Cyrus, they thought it to be the head of their illustrious Master, Feraulus transported with grief and rage, would needs throw himself into the Press, and take it out of their hands, or else be killed: But Chrisantes with holding him by showing him Mandana, and telling him that he would do Cyrus' better service by his life, he had not time to do it; for as soon as the Captain had plunged the head three times in the Basin, The cruel Thomyris perceiving the horror, which this action caused in the faces of all her people, she commanded it to be carried unto the body from whence it was severed, and both carried into a Tent until further orders: After which, causing Mandanas' Tent to be shut, she returned to her own, with such rage and tumultuous thoughts, that she hated herself no less than she did Mandana.   
The end of the second Book.   

ARTAMENES, OR, THE GRAND CYRUS. THE TENTH AND LAST PART, AND THIRD and last BOOK.  
THOMYRIS was no sooner returned into her Tent, but this sad object which struck horror into all the beholders, and had made some impression in her own heart, did so sting her conscience and spirits, that she knew not what she did, or what she should do. Indeed, now and then she thought that this action of Cruelty was but a poor piece of revenge: and her mind passing from object to object, she fancied the Illustrious Artamenes, as he was the first time she gave him Audience as Ambassador from Cyaxares: and considering also the pitiful condition she did now see him in; she grew pale, and trembled for horror, and some sparks of compassion entering into her heart whether she would or no, they revived in it some thoughts of tenderness and love, which did more cruelly torment her then all her fury, her ra●e, and her jealousy: How Thomyris (said she) is Cyrus' dead whom thou didst passionately love? and canst thou see his head severed from his body without excessive sorrow? Couldst thou find a heart to command it to be plunged in a basin full of blood▪ Fie, fie, thou dost merit his hatred, but art worthy of the Epithet of cruel Thomyris, which he gave thee in his Last Letter, and with his expiring breath. Yes, yes, inhuman Princess that thou art, is it pity he should be unfaithful unto that Princess whom he loves; thou dost deserve he should be as cruel unto thee, as thou art unto him. Though thou dost keep Mandana in thy power, yet he did let the point of his Sword fall when thou didst meet him in the wood of the Sauromates: Though he might easily have killed thee, yet thou triumphest in his death: Yes merciless Thomyris, though this Prince was infinitely in love with Mandana, yet he would not deprive thee of life: Thou who haste vaunted to have loved him better than ever any else knew how; canst thou look upon him dead, without any resentments of sorrow? and hast thou nothing else to do but invent such Cruelties as will make thee odious unto thy very self, and all the world? After this, Thomyris being silent, she had a thousand several imaginations upon this adventure: and she did so particularly call to memory all that ever Cyrus had done or said in her Court, when he carried the name of Artamenes, that her heart beginning to melt, she grieved for that Prince, whose death did at the first news of it fill her full of joys; and she grieved with more apprehensive sorrow, than ever her soul was before sensible of. And though as oft as she remembered his last words, she could not grieve for the death of him who pronounced them: Yet Love being the most prevailing passion of her heart, she sometimes thought that she saw Cyrus sensible and living, yet was an object less grieving, than Cyrus was in that condition which she saw him. So as tormenting herself all manner of ways that an amorous heart could be tormented, she was as great a sufferer as any could be. Her most sensible perplexity was, that knowing how Ariantes loved Mandana, she thought that she had not liberty enough to treat her ill, and to be revenged of her, both for the death of Cyrus, her own cruelty, and for her own misfortunes: So as her soul having so many torments to endure at once, that for some days she was unable to order the general affairs of her Estate, but sent all those who came unto her about any business, unto the Prince her brother: And that you may see the inequality of her thoughts; for all this act of cruelty struck horror into all beholders, yet she commanded that all due rights should be done unto the Corpse of Cyrus, and that they should be performed as not coming from her orders.  
But to return unto Mandana, and to say something of her resentments, when she saw the bloody head of Spitridates, which she thought to be Cyrus, be pleased to know that she continued so long in her swound, that this sad Scene was not only ended when she recovered out of it, by the cares of Araminta, Onesile, Doralise, and Martesia: But the Tent was shut, and all the people dispersed before she recovered her sight and speech; when she first opened her eyes, she turned away her head and shut them again, for her imagination being still filled with that terrible object which caused her swooning, she thought that she saw it still.  
But after her eyes were a little settled, and her reason recollected, she knew that she saw nothing but people mourning, with faces and eyes all swelled with tears, both for her grief, and for the death of him who caused it: Indeed, the unfortunate Araminta not knowing what a sad share she had in this fatal loss which thus grieved Mandana, she was most sensibly troubled, and yet she endeavoured to give all the consolation she was able, not knowing that she herself stood most in need of it: And therefore beginning to speak; In the name of the God's Madam (said she unto Mandana) make your constancy and patience appear, rouse up yourself, and consider, that if you should kill yourself with grief, your death and his perhaps would be without revenge: but if on the contrary you endeavour to live, all Asia will take Arms for your liberty, and for revenge of Cyrus his death.  
Alas (said the sad Mandana) how hard a thing is it to follow your counsel? and therefore Madam (continued she, beginning to flow in tears, which the excess of her sorrow had till then restrained) before you give me any more of this advice, I pray consider whether yourself were able to live, if you should see Spitridates in that pitiful condition which I have seen Cyrus. But oh heavens (continued she, and would not give Araminta time to answer) is it possible that I should live, and see Cyrus dead? But most illustrious Prince, though I am yet living, yet I would thou couldst know, it is against my will, and that I look upon death as the only thing desirable: Indeed, what have I else to do but to die? For since Cyrus is dead, victory is not to be looked for. It were folly to think that any can now either revenge his death, or deliver me, since he could not release me: And though they should, what should I do in a world wherein is nothing that can please me? I should do nothing but continually lament the death of Cyrus, and should not have so much satisfaction as to shed my tears upon his Tomb: For considering how the cruel Thomyris hath used his sacred Corpse, certainly she will cause it to be torn in pieces by wild beasts: so as it is better to die presently, then to live in such an eternal sorrow, which would brand me with ingratitude to the greatest Prince in the world; for alas, how great is my debt unto Cyrus? and therefore I were most unworthy of that constant affection he bore unto me, if I could think upon any thing but death.  
After this, Mandana being silent, because a flood of tears would not suffer her to speak, Doralisa & Martesia in their turns did use all their persuasive arguments of comfort. As for Araminta, it coming into her mind, that perhaps Spitridates was also killed, her soul was so troubled that she hardly minded what Mandana said: and the certain death of Cyrus, together with the incertainty of Spitridates his life, did so disquiet her mind, that she could not continue comforting Mandana as she begun: And indeed, considering the sad condition of that Princess, it was a hard matter to find any apparent reasons by which they could persuade her that she was not in a most miserable condition: and all those about her could do nothing else but shed bitter tears, and lament the loss as well as she: All were in tears at once, and they wept as if they would all weep continually.  
On the other side, Chrysantes thinking the death of his Master certain, he resolved to carry this sad news unto Mazares, and all the Princes in the Army, lest if reports of it should be divulged amongst the Soldiers any other way, they would not be so forward to revenge his death: But as for Feraulas, he would stay upon the place, to know what they did with the Corpse of Cyrus, and to try if he could see Martesia, to lament with her the misfortune of this Prince, and to receive some orders from Mandana; for he imagined that since Cyrus was dead, they would not guard her so strictly.  
In the mean time, it may well be said, that the supposed death of this great Conqueror did more illustrate his glory when it was known on both sides, in being lamented both by his friends and Enemies. Thomyris herself grieved, Ariantes did pity, though not grieve: All the Massagertans lamented him, all his friends desired no life, but to revenge his death: Mazares lamented his death, as if he had not been his Rival: All the Soldiers grieved for him as their Father, and some of those who fled from the Battle did kill themselves for very shame and sorrow, that this Prince should suffer for their baseness.  
Moreover, besides those who grieved for him out of affection, generosity, and compassion, there were many who were engaged to it by particular interests: For Intaphernes and Atergatis did see that their Princess could not be so soon released, Gabrias and Hydaspes had the same concerning Arpasia: Tigranes had the same thought for the admirable Onesile. Again, the Princess of Bythinia, Istrina, Onesile, Arpasia, and Telagene did see that their chains would not be so soon broken: But whilst all the world were lamenting the loss of Cyrus, and were ignorant of Spitridates his destiny, Cyrus' understanding by Meliantes that he was thought to be dead, he was both sad and glad of it: Yet he had many more reasons to be sorry; for when he heard of this Tragical Ceremony of Thomyris, he verily believed that Spitridates was dead, and that they were mistaken by the great resemblance betwixt him and that unfortunate Prince, so that besides his own miseries, he was extremely sensible of his loss, and Araminta's sorrows.  
Moreover, he was not only sensible of Mandana's resentments, in a belief that he was dead, but he feared lest her resentments should prejudice him in another manner: For (said he in himself) though she did never change her thoughts of me, is it not to be feared that this supposed death will make her change those thoughts she had of me; for (said he out of some jealous apprehensioos) one may be faithful unto a living Lover, when one is not so unto a dead one. Few carry their affections further than to the Grave of the person loved: so as since the belief of my death may either cause her death, or cause her to be inconstant, it doth more concern me that Mandana do know that I am living, than that Thomyris should be ignorant of it: In the mean time, I know no more how to show myself unto Mandana, than I know how to hide myself from Thomyris; for should I ask Meliantes any questions concerning that Princess, he would perhaps not only suspect who I am, but would imagine it concerns Thomyris and Ariantes to know that I am in his hands: So that Cyrus not knowing what to resolve upon, either to procure his liberty, or to let Mandana know he was not dead, his soul was in a most sad condition. Yet upon second thoughts, he conceived it expedient to say nothing unto Meliantes for some days, lest his too much earnestness should render him suspected: and that afterwards he would ask so much favour from him, as to send to one of his friends to acquaint him that he was a prisoner, and to let this friend of his come disguised into the Camp of Thomyris, and confer with him about ways for his releasement.  
But during this little interval, things went reasonable well; for Mazares after he had rallyed his Troops, he entrenched them very advantageously, in expectation of those Forces which Ciaxares sent: And Ariantes having a most earnest desire to see Mandana, and still fearing the violence of Thomyris, he also entrenched his Army, and went unto the Tents Royal; for though it was victorious, yet the victory had cost him so dear, that he was not in a condition to attempt any thing against Mazares, considering the ground he had chosen for his entrenchment: Yet did he find no great satisfaction in his voyage; for he found the mind of Thomyris so incensed and unquiet, that no proposition could be made which did not vex her, especially any thing which related unto Mandana. On the other side, having visited the Princess whom he adored, he found his entertainment so bad, that he was forced to retire, and stay till her forrows were a little over.  
The truth is, she gave him such sharp Language, she charged him so oft with the death of Cyrus; she protested so earnestly that she would not live, but only to the end the King her Father, and the Prince Mazares might continue the War against Thomyris, to deliver her, and be revenged for the death of Cyrus; and she did so fully assure him, that she hated him as much as if he had killed Cyrus with his own hands, that this Prince did think himself in a worse Condition by the death of Cyrus, then by his life.  
In the mean time, the Princess of Bythinia, the Princess Istrina and Arpasia were always together, not having the liberty to see Mandana, with whom Araminta and Onesile continually were: For since they were put there in the absence of Thomyris, when Andramites sent them to the Tents Royal, Ariantes durst not incense the Princess so far as to take them away: Also, since it was believed that Cyrus was dead, they did not so much care if company came to her, and the Princess of Bythinia, Istrina, & Arpasia had leave to see her in the presence of him who commanded her Guard: 'Tis true, they had no great comfort in seeing her, for they saw her so full of sorrows, as they did not think she was able to endure them long.  
Again, Arpasia hearing that Licander her Ravisher was killed by an unknown hand: and understanding from Niside who was with her, that she saw Meliantes in a disguise, she made no question but it was he unto whom she was obliged for it: but she knew not whether she should be sad or glad at it; for though she did still much esteem him, yet she had still much tenderness and inclination unto Hydaspes: But since the matter was not hard to see Arpasia, and since Meliantes his passion was always in his mind, he took this opportunity, and came one morning unto Niside, unto whom he had address without much difficulty.  
Niside being always his friend, she was glad to see him, and to hear from his own mouth, that it was he who killed Licander. He told her then how he came disguised unto this Court, lest Licander should induce Thomyris to arrest him: and that he was in hopes to rid himself of one Rival by particular Duel, and of the other by general Combat: After which, he desired Niside to help him unto the sight of Arpasia: and indeed, she being desirous to do him any favour, she procured him the opportunity without telling Arpasia, who was so surprised at the sight of Meliantes, that she knew not how she should receive him.  
But since Niside had cunningly hinted unto her, that certainly it was he who killed Licander, and moreover, that Meliantes was more amiable than ever he was; her affection to Hidaspes could not hinder her from receiving a man whom she much esteemed, very civilly, especially since she had very tender thoughts of him, before she knew of his affection unto Argelise: And though Arpasia did colour this civility to him, for that he had ventured his life in ruining her Ravisher; and though her expressions might well give him to understand that her mind was not changed, and that she could hold him in no other degree than that of friendship; yet for all that, she expressed herself, and he answered her so tenderly and passionately, that he engaged her whether she would or no to be very obliging towards him: Also he obtained leave to visit her, yet upon condition never to mention any matter of Love: so as he thought himself very happy in his misfortune; for since he believed Cyrus to be dead, he did not think that Hidaspes would be in any condition to dispute with him for Arpasia, so as he returned to his prisoner with much satisfaction: And as soon as he was with him, he fell into discourse upon the power of Love; he told him what was said of Thomyris, of Ariantes, of Mandana, and of all their passions.  
But whilst things passed thus in the Camp of Thomyris, in the Tents Royal, and in the Camp of Mazares, the news of Cyrus his death being carried unto the Fort of Sauromates, Meriontes having no mind to be released by Andramites; and seeing Cyrus who had saved his life was dead, he would not go unto the Camp of that Prince as he intended: and being able to ride on horseback, he beseeched the Commander of the Fort to let him go unto the Camp of Thomyris: But it being late when he came thither, and having intimate acquaintance with Meliantes, he asked an Officer whom he did accidentally meet with, whether he knew Meliantes his Quarters, and understanding by him that he was within fifty paces of it, he went to desire a night's lodging with him. As soon as he saw Meliantes, he talked of nothing but the valour of Cyrus, of his high soul, of his generosity, and how he saved his life; how he treated him during his imprisonment, and was so high in his commendations, that Meliantes thinking to do a favour unto his Prisoner, in letting him see a man who spoke so highly of a Prince whose part he took, he brought him into the Tent where he was: For though he knew that his prisoner did not desire to be known, yet he made no difficulty of bringing in Meriontes, because he could not imagine that he should know him, since they were of contrary sides, so as in this thought he carried Meriontes into the Tent where he was. At his first entrance, both Cyrus and Meriontes were so astonished, that they were not Masters of their first thoughts: Meriontes no sooner saw Cyrus, but cried out, oh Sir (said he unto him) can I believe my eyes? Is it possible that Cyrus, whom two hundred thousand men believe to be dead, should be alive? At these words, Cyrus seeing there was no longer any concealing himself from Meliantes, he was forced to have recourse unto those who knew him: You see valiant Mereontes (said he) how inconstant Fortune is, since she hath reduced me unto the most miserable condition of men, if you do not oblige the generous Meliantes not to discover me.  
Mereontes having leisure whilst Cyrus spoke, to recollect himself out of his wonder, repent of his hastiness: But knowing Meliantes to be a man of a most generous spirit, and of quick apprehension, he saw there was no remedy. However, Mereontes thinking himself infinitely obliged unto Cyrus who had saved his life in an heroic way, he turned towards Meliantes, and told him, that if he did not behave himself towards his presence as he would have done, had he not known him, he would become his mortal Eenemy. But there was no need of all this; For Meliantes having no dependence upon Thomyris, was so glad to see himself master of the Destiny of the greatest Prince in the world, he interrupted Mereontes, and assured him that Cyrus needed not to fear any thing: Also a second thought coming into his mind, he conceived that it would be advantageous unto him to oblige Cyrus, since he might thereby oblige Hidaspes to cease his pretences unto Arpasia: so as continuing to speak, since Sir, I am no Subject unto Thomyris (said he unto Cyrus) only a Volunteer in her party: and since Love only brought me hither, I think it would be no blemish unto honour, if I did set you out of her power.  
For my part (added Meriontes) I shall go further than you: For though I were her Subject, and in your place, knowing her in justice and cruelty, by her late horri● act, I should think it my duty to free this illustrious Prince out of her hands and should think myself a more Enemy unto that Queen than he is; if I should give her any occasion to commit an act so base.  
But generous Meliantes, whether you be subject unto Thomyris or no, you are obliged not to discover that Cyrus is in your hands. However since I am a prisoner unto your prisoner, I will never forsake him, for since my life is his, I will lose it rather, than let him come into the hands of his Enemies. Sir, (said Meliantes) though there was no generosity in my nature, yet sure I should be so by the examples which the illustrious Cyrus and you have given, and therefore Mereontes take no thought for your illustrious Conqueror, for since now I know enough of him, I am so far from thinking him my prisoner, that I and my destiny is more in his hands, than he or his in mine: Oh generous Meliantes, (said Cyrus) if there be any thing within the compass of my power, wherein I may serve you, tell me I conjure you, and to testify that I am not unworthy of your generosity, I declare that I would not desire to oblige you unto this, but only for the interest of Mandana, and let me tell you also, (to show that I had conceived a great opinion of you) that I have several times intended to trust your generosity and discretion; not knowing well what thoughts you had of me.  
After this, Meliantes answered Cyrus in such a manner, as did evidence unto him, that he might expect any thing from him; and Mereontes showed himself so zealous for the safety of his deliverer, that this Prince had great reason to put much confidence in the affection of two such men as had both wit and courage enough: Meliantes acquainted also Mereontes with one thing which much confirmed him in his thoughts; for he told him that Aripithes, upon whose score he became engaged on Thomyris side, did die so much displeased against her, that he commanded several of his servants, to tell all his Officers, that he would not have them fight any longer in her service: So as these two virtuous men finding no scruple in their design of serving the greatest Prince upon Earth, against the most unjust Princess in the world, they promised so much fidelity unto Cyrus, that he had reason to esteem himself happy in his misery, in finding two friends of so much virtue: And to oblige them unto a more affectionate devotion to him, he used all the heroic expressions that was inventable; yet he had so high an opinion of their virtue and quality, as that he would not interest them by any ambitious hopes; but thought that in promising them his friendship, he promised them all, and he did that in as noble a manner, as if he had promised Kingdoms unto them.  
After Cyrus had said all unto Meliantes and Mereontes, which he thought fit to engage them in his service, the first of these most humbly besought him, he might impart one thing which concerned him to know: And Cyrus consenting, Sir, (said Meliantes unto him) to testify my sincerity in my promising of serving you and delivering you as soon as I can without danger, I must acquaint you that I am a Rival unto Hydaspes whom you most dearly love, and I conjure you in consiration of what I will do for you, that you will stand neutral between him and me, if ever fortune put us into a condition to dispute for the possession of Arpasia: How (said Cyrus) are you a Rival unto Hydaspes, and have I the misfortune to be friend unto one who is your Enemy?  
After this, Meliantes told Cyrus in two words, the state of his fortune, not concealing from him that he had seen Arpasia since the battle: After which Cyrus said in desiring me to be neutral between Hydaspes and you, generous Meliantes, you desire me much less than I will promise you: For I will faithfully promise, that if ever it be my fortune to see him again, I will conjure him to cease loving Arpasia, and will be as earnest with him, as if I were his Rival, as well as your friend; but after this I will not promise you any more, for my humour is such, that I will never absolutely command my friends, especially in matters of Love. But I will promise you to speak both unto Gabrias and Hydaspes, as much as I can in your behalf: Then Sir, (replied Meliantes) I have no more to say, but to assure you that though you had denied me, yet I would have done all I could to serve you.  
The worst is (added he) that it is not an easy matter to get you from this place where we now are unto your own Camp, without danger of being taken by some who may know you: Therefore it is best to go in the night time unto the Tents Royal; for were you there, and dis-engaged from the quarters of the Army, it would be much more easy to take a compass, and meet those Auxiliaries which Ciaxares sends you, and otherwise I confess I can see no likelihood of getting you unto your Camp.  
Mereontes concurring with the opinion of Meliantes, and Cyrus apprehending much danger if he should be known, he concurred also; but the main difficulty is in going safely into the Tents Royal, and getting out: At last, Meliantes resolved to feign himself sick, and under pretence of heat, not to go in the day, but would go in a Coach close up, to avoid the humidity of the night.  
Thus it was resolved, that Cyrus should go in the Coach with him, that Mereontes should guard them with his friends, and that they should not set out until it was dark.  
But since it was requisite that Meliantes should have a little time to counterfeit himself sick, and since Mereontes who would not forsake his illustrious Conqueror, would not show himself, they spent that day all three together, for it was told at the Entrance into the Tent, that Meliantes was sick, and therefore would not be seen; so as having time enough to entertain themselves with discourse, and having now nothing to talk of but themselves, Meliantes and Mereontes were along time in lamenting Cyrus, and admiring all the wonders of his life. But Cyrus knowing that nothing was more obliging, than to seem desirous of knowing the fortunes of friends, he was very earnest with Meliantes, to particularise the passages of his life a little better to him, and afterwards he pressed Mereontes to tell him his: For truly (said he unto him) after Democedes told me your Country, after I have seen you fight, and after this your last act of generosity, I cannot choose but be very desirous to know what moved you to leave so good a country: Sir, (replied Mereontes) my adventures have been so poor, and there hath been so few extraordinary Events in my life, that indeed there is some reason to wonder, why I should voluntarily banish myself from a Country so pleasant, if it were not an ordinary thing to see that Love can make men miserable, without the power of Fortune: And there passeth many strange and extraordinary thoughts in the heart of a Lover, which seem nothing in the eyes of the world, so as he can be miserable when nothing appears unto other men why he should be so.  
Alas, said Meliantes, I know this to be true by Experience: The most transendent person whom I adore, she esteems me, and is very friendly unto me; but for all that, I am yet the most miserable Lover in the world, since her affection unto my Rival is of another nature, though she does nothing more unto him than unto me.  
The misery which I complain of, (replied Mereontes) seems doubtless less than yours; but I have a soul so nice, and I do love in such a tender manner, that it is intolerable to me: since we can do nothing better (in a time when we can do nothing for the Princess Mandana) said Cyrus, then to know the life of a man who is willing to serve her, I beseech you acquaint us with it. I must tell you again Sir, (replied Mereontes) my adventures are too poor for the knowledge of such a Prince as you are, though I must confess your destiny seems to be something dubious. However Mereontes (replied Cyrus) I beseech you satisfy my desire, but to the end Meliantes may have the knowledge of your adventure, tell him in (I beseech you) few words, the customs of the country of the new Sauromates.  
Mereontes in obedience unto Cyrus, told Meliantes in as consice a manner as he could, the Original of the new Sauromates, their Lives, their Customs, and all that Democedes mentioned in Sappho's history, and began his discourse in these Terms.  

THE HISTORY OF MEREONTES, AND DORINICE.  
ISHALL not need to tell you Sir, that I am descended from a family which holds a considerable Rank in my country; for since Democedes hath related the history of Sappho, I am sure he hath told you of Clirantes, who is my brother, and by consequence who I am. Nor am I obliged to acquaint you with the life of our Court: For since you do know it to be gallant, that there are Judges established to determine all the differences of Lovers, and that the most admirable Sappho is very happy there, you will easily believe what I shall say.  
But Sir, since the beauty and merit of one whose name is Dorinice, is the foundation of this adventure, and the cause of my misfortune, it is requisite I describe her unto you, to the end you may the better know the violence of my passion, and the greatness of my misery: Since it was not the quality of Dorinice which made me love her, I shall tell you only by the by, that her family from whence she is descended is very illustrious; but let me tell you that she is adorned with a thousand qualities which attract Love.  
Indeed she is of a very handsome stature, her Complexion is rare, her Eyes black, and full of spirit; her hair is fair, her smile charming, her Teeth white, her Air both gallant, noble, and modest, and her neck and hands most fair.  
Moreover, her Wit is superlative, her humour always equally the same, and there is such a just mixture of mirth and seriousness in this person, that she doth infinitely please and suit with all the world, both the melancholy and the merry. She seemed to be a very good friend, and indeed she was so, though to my sorrow I found her heart but hollow, yet it was a disguised hollowness: For when one first sees her, and sees the freeness of her looks, her civility and sweetness, one would say, that for the time he had made a far progress into her soul, and yet one should not be one step further in her favour at the end of three months, than they are at the end of three days, and the like at the end of three years, all imaginable services and courtship will not work upon her heart.  
Then Sir, I must tell you, that though we have but one City in our State, yet Dorinice was eighteen years of age before I ever spoke unto her: For besides the bigness of our City, which is so large, that one may easily be long there and not particularly known, so it was, that several trifling passions did take up many of my young days, and as chance would have it, I fell into a Caballe opposite unto that of Dorinices' Mother, so as it may be said, I knew her and I knew her not. But since several changes chanced, which absolutely dis-engaged my heart, I chanced one day to meet this fair one in an assembly at the Queens. Thinking I should much spite those Ladies whom I had broke off withal, if I did entertain Dorinice, whom I knew they loved not, I began discourse with her.  
Thus I entertained her the first time more in spite to others then to please myself, not but that I found much pleasure in her company, for since she was glad to see I had quitted the Ladies whom she loved not, she received me better than when I was in favour with her Enemies, and yet she chid me when I began to tell her, that I thought myself very happy in her company. Before I give any direct answer unto your Civility, Sir, replied she, and smiled, I beseech you give me leave to examine a little, whether I should take you as a Spy or as a desertor of your friends, or as one who hath changed sides. Oh most lovely Dorinice (said I and interrupted her) I am neither a Spy nor a Desertor of my friends, but I have changed my side with so much reason, that you cannot in any justice blame me; yet lest you should have an ill opinion of me, I will not speak any ill of your Enemies, but since I have so much good to speak of you, time is better employed in that then in the other: Were you to talk long, replied she, and smiled, you would both trouble me and yourself, for I have so many faults and so few good qualities, that you would find it, Sir, a hard task to talk of such things only as should please me: But since, Sir, it is probable you will tell me more of my good then my bad qualities, I shall hope you will not tell me any thing which will displease me: At the least I am sure, Madam (said I unto her) I shall say nothing but truth, when I tell you that you are the most fairest and loveliest person in the world.  
As Dorinice was ready to reply, they came to take her out to dance, so as all that night I could not talk any more with her. But since she had infinitely pleased me, and since I observed that I had sufficiently vexed those Ladies whom I intended to spite, I went the next day with one of my friends unto the house of Dorinices' Mother, whose name was Elicrate, and, Sir, I was so much taken both with the Mother and the Daughter, that I repented I had been so long unacquainted with them, for the truth was, their society was infinitely more pleasing than that I had quitted; for those Ladies whom I had left off were persons who admitted all sorts of men without exception or choice, which questionless goes against the grain of those who have nice and delicate spirits, and not at all advantageous unto such as frequent them: But, Sir, it was otherwise in the house of Elicrate, for almost none frequented it, but men of excellent parts; and Dorinice had such an art of wearying those who were not well accomplished, that if any such came once there, they were sure not to come twice; and yet there was always much company with her, because there was men more of excellent parts in our Court: And, Sir, you must know that this Lady, though never capable of love, nor ever will as long as she lives, yet is she the greatest fondling in friendship that is in the world, for she has friends of all sorts, and the wonder is, she gets them every day, and loses none, and does so well keep all such secrets as are entrusted to her, that she never injures any, but as far as she is able, is ready to do any service for those whom▪ she hath promised any place in her friendship: Yet as I said in the beginning of my discourse, she hath this particular quality, that she hath set bounds about her heart, beyond the limits of which none whosoever can ever go; for one shall be as high in her favour at three months as they can be in three years.  
Dorinice being as I have described her very amiable and engaging at the first, I thought myself the happiest man alive in her acquaintance; and I presently perceived, that my thoughts of her might be phrased Love, and not at all Friendship: yet I thought myself not at all the more miserable; for since I knew that I had some share in her esteem, and that she promised me her friendship, I thought that I might pretend unto her love: But to carry it according to the common Maxims of all prudent Lovers; I did not declare myself at the first, but stayed until her heart was a little engaged, before I openly told and divulged that I was in love with her. However I was very assiduous in my Visits, and courted her with all imaginable submissions, for the friendship which men held with her did exact from them the same services almost that Love did, and I was so happy in my behaviour, that in a short time she did me the favour to admit me into the catalogue of her friends; yet I must confess, this rank did not altogether please me; for since she was ranked higher in my heart, I could not be contented with that rank which I had in hers. The truth is, I flattered up myself with hopes, that as soon as she knew I loved her, she would then distinguish me from the rest; and though I know she made open profession never to admit of any Gallantry: yet as one is apt to flatter one's self with what they love so I thought that I might happily be excepted out of that general rule: So as not being able to endure this cruel incertainty, I resolved to discover my passion unto her, and I resolved upon it, after I had spent a whole day with her in extreme melancholy; for I was persuaded that all her friends would at other times be so much about her, that I could not find a fitter opportunity: So as I staying the last with her, I began to speak unto her, and desired her to tell me whether I was as much in her heart that day as I had been in her Chamber? Doubtless you are, replied she, as all my friends are: Oh, Madam (said I) there is no justice I should be thronged with such a crowd of friends in your heart, since you are single and alone in mine; and therefore, Madam, I must either be excluded out of your heart, or else all those men you crowd with me in it, must; for otherwise I must confess, that I cannot be at any rest there: Alas, Madam, continued I, and would not give her time to answer me, it is extreme injustice to mix me with them, for I am not of their rank, nor are my thoughts like theirs: Indeed, I am so far from entertaining you (as some of them do) with my ambition, that I do declare the height of my ambition I: to be loved by you; I am so far from telling you of any Intrigues and Cabals (like theirs) that I will never be of any, in which you are not: I have so little to do with domestic business and cares, that I never think of any but what you have caused in me, and so far am I from talking of any love which I bear unto others. that I can talk of nothing but my love to you: and therefore Madam, I beseech you judge whether it be just you should rank me amongst such men as nothing resemble me? Doubtless it is not (replied she and smiled) for if you be such as you say, I must exclude you from my heart, and admit another in your room; for it were not just (added she by way of rallary) that I should banish a hundred out of it, to admit of one, but much better it is to banish the one and keep the hundred, and therefore Meriontes, It is in your own choice, if you be my friend, as I ever thought you) be quiet in my heart, as all the rest of my friends are, but if you be not, take it not ill if I do exclude you: However, since I do not well understand you, nor will take so much pains as to examine whether what you say be true, I will believe you upon your word.  
Since it is so, Madam, replied I, I beseech you believe that I am not only your friend, but your Lover also: for I profess, that I am not able to live in such a press of friends. Since it is so (said she) you must out of my heart, and you would do me a pleasure, if you would drive me out of yours. for since I am there alone, it is very likely considering my humour, I shall be very weary of being there. Madam, (said I unto her) you answer me with so little seriousness, that I beseech you neither look upon me as your Lover nor as your friend. Seriously, replied she, I know not well what to think; but Mereontes if you will believe me, you will content yourself with the Rank of a friend, for I must ingeniously tell you, that otherwise you must lose me: were it a thing which were in my own choice (answered I) I would choose rather the quality of a friend then of a Lover; for I see all that are under that notion are well pleased, satisfied and at rest: But alas, Madam, it is otherwise with me, and though you should rank me in the first Sphere of your friends, yet I must, whether you, or I will or no, be your Lover, and be so until death; Since, Sir (replied she) you may happily be mistaken in your affection to me, and think of it more than it is, I will not yet exclude you out of my heart, but will stay a little until you be better satisfied whether you are only of a temper in friendship something different from others, such a temper as being neither love nor friendship, yet so like unto both that either name, without injustice may be attributed unto either of them.  
Oh, Madam (said I) my affection to you is not of that nature, for I ma most certain that friendship hath never any desires, nor inquietudes, nor jealousy in it; Oh Mereontes (said she unto me) I plainly see that you know not what a tender and gallant friendship is, for such friends as I desire will desire to be loved, they will be unquiet when they have been long absent from their friends, and be jealous to see any others about them. But, Madam (said I unto her) since you cause jealousy, and have such abundance of friends, I wonder they should not quarrel. The more you speak of this tender and gallant friendship which I mean, Sir (replied Dorinice) the more you seem to be ignorant; for the jealousy which it inspires is not of the same nature as that which Love d●t● cause, is, but on the contrary, it is a sweet pleasing and ingenious Spirit, which helps discourse, which augments friendship which is never melancholic, lumpish or sad, and which produceth no other effects but such as make men more courtly, more neat, and more complaisant, such as rather makes others jealous of them then they of others: So as it may be said, that the friendship of which I speak, hath all the sweets of love without any of the bitters: Moreover (added she) I mean not such a kind of friendship, whereof there is not above two or three examples in a whole age; nor of such men as have but one only friend in the world: The first of these must be able to die for their friends, and be as full of generosity as tender friendship: And as for the other who are so nice and delicate that they can find but one only in all the world that they think worthy of their friendship; certainly they are neither pleasing to themselves nor others: For since they cannot be merry with any but those they love, and since there is but one Phoenix in the world which they can find, certainly they find their diversions very seldom. Nor do I require that solid friendship which is found in the grave Sages of the world, for they are too cold, too dry, and too tiring melancholic; Such men as these will content themselves with loving you in the depth of their heart, with serving you upon extraordinary occasions, and to speak well of you when it highly concerns you, but will never tell you that they do love you: They neglect all petty Compliments and duties of friendship, and are always so serious, that they cannot endure any mirth: yet truly my opinion is, that for the most part it is the trivial Civilities and Compliments which makes the most friendship; as for great and high Services they are so rare, as it is impossible they should both beget and nourish friendship. For aught I see, Madam (replied I) the friendship which you desire hath such a near resemblance with love, that I begin to think myself more miserable than I did imagine, and to look upon all your friends as my Rivals. Since I have friends, Sir, (replied she) who are in love with some Ladies whom you do know, you are much mistaken if you think them my Lovers: However, Madam, replied I, I would gladly know how you do rank all your friends; To begin (replied Dorinice) I must tell you, that my amorous friends are always of the lowest rank in my heart though I am often very much delighted to hear them tell their folly and fond adventures: And if you will name unto me any, I will ingeniously tell you in what degree they are in my opinion▪ Then tell me, Madam, said I, in what Sphere you place a friend of yours, whose Soul is so ambitious, that I think it enjoys not one minute of rest? As for him (said she) he is neither in the first nor last, but in in the rank of those from whom I hear many secrets, but whom I would not trust with any of my own if I had any. You have another friend, Madam replied I. who indeed is a man of much merit, but he is so rude and fierce, that I cannot tell what sweetness his friendship should afford you, nor in what rank you can place him, for you have none who resembles him. I assure you (replied she) that this fierce friend of whom you speak, as irregular in friendship as he seems unto you, yet he is not one of the lowest rank in my heart, and should his feirceness a little mollify, he might perhaps be in the first: for he does not seem as if he were desirous one should love him, though there be nothing more like to cause it, than that.  
But Madam (said I unto her) you have another friend whose name is Artimas, and who if he be not in the first rank, yet he will be ere long: For indeed he has all quilities that are requisite to please, and I do observe that he doth already very much please you: 'Tis true (said she) that he whom you mention is according to your description; for he is handsome, and he has a most excellent and pleasing wit: He writes well both in verse and prose: he can be both merry and serious, and he began his friendship in the most ingenuous way in the world. He seems so tender, so sweet, so civil, and so affable, and has such an obliging way with him, as would persuade any one he loves them better than ever he did any. Moreover, he seems so extremely glad to see you; he is so hugely sensible of benefits, and so desirous to be loved, that one cannot choose but have a disposition to love him: but let me tell you withal, that whether he is so weary of his friendship, or glutted with accustomacy of favours, or not sensible of them; or whether it be inconstancy in his nature, he is so unequal in his amity, and so negligent, that though he were ungrateful, or coldly indifferent, he could not be worse than sometimes he is: Sometimes he will be a whole day together with you, and not speak a word: he will see you as if he saw you not, and will be of such a sluggish faint spirit, as he will both amaze and vex any that have any interest in him; for nothing doth more surprise him then to see men who have held a correspondency, become as cold and indifferent, as if they were not acquainted. Yet since I have not been long enough acquainted with him you speak of, to pass any definitive judgement of him; all I can say unto you is, that most infallibly he will either be in the first or last rank in my opinion: Nor can I directly tell you what place he will have in my heart, since that depends more upon him then me; for if he thus continue unequal and lukewarm, perhaps he will be in the lowest rank of my friends: and if he become as he was when I first knew him, and not so troublesome as almost all the young Gallants of the Court are, who thereby render themselves incapable of any illustrious Conquest, either in Love or friendship, than he shall be in the rank of my dearest friends.  
But I beseech you Madam (replied I) tell me more positively what degree is a Cousin of mine, who useth to visit you oftener than any other except myself: as for him (said she) I must confess he is in the same degree that you are, for indeed I see nothing in our friendship which doth now please me: The beginning was gallant, the sequel was obliging, and I have observed him very careful to please me: He seems more tender and more sensible than he was at our first acquaintance: he is more glad to see me, and we divert ourselves better then when we talk together, then in the infancy of our friendship. You have also another friend (replied I) who loves to talk with you in private, as if he were your Lover. And I have observed, that when any came to you, he would always make a third: He whom you speak of (replied she) is none of the least in my favour, for indeed it is one of the greatest signs of a good wit to hold particular discourse; and the greatest proof that one can give that he is pleased with his friend, is to court in private: and did you know the good will I bear unto him you mean, because I think he is better pleased when he finds me alone, then with much company, you would see that I do much prefer him before such vapourers that are out of their element, unless they be in a great tumultuous company, where they must speak loud before they can be heard, and who had rather be in the very worst company of a Town, then spend an afternoon in civil discourse with two or three rational persons. Yet they are the greatest loser's by it; for I am sure, that commonly such men get such ill habits as renders them less amiable, and less inclinable to love.  
But Mereontes (continued she) to save you the labour of naming of any more, I will assure you that there is but you & three or four more who are in the first form of my friends: and as for the rest, I imagine you will not much care for them. Why Madam (replied I) do you think that I am satisfied with your admitting three or four Coequals in your heart? When you consider (replied she that I have a hundred friends, and that I think but three or four of them your Equals, me thinks you should be well satisfied, and think yourself happy. Alas Madam, replied I, were I only your friend, I should not be contented with it; for I am of such an humour, that I would be the first of the four; and therefore being your Lover, I cannot esteem myself happy in my conviction with so many friends. To testify (replied she) that I will do all I can for you, I will tell you, that you are the first, provided you will not speak any more of your pretended love. Alas Madam (replied I) I find no great security in all this, since you have a friend who may be in the first rank, and another whose place you know not, therefore this last may exclude me and all the rest: Since I know not what is to come (answered she) I will speak of the present: And therefore all I can say unto you is, that if he of whom you speak doth continue as he hath been of late, it is not all his merit, all his wit, nor all his handsomeness that can obtain him the first rank of my friends: and I will tell you after, that of all those who have any place in my friendship, you shall have the first rank if you will. Alas Madam (said I) a Lover can never be contented with the first quality of a friend; and I had rather be in the lowest rank of your Lovers, than in the highest of your friends. However, Mereontes (said she) this is all I can do; Consider seriously upon it, for if you should refuse the first rank of my friends, perhaps I shall become your Enemy: As I was ready to answer, one came in, and said her Mother did ask for her: so that I left her, not accepting the quality of her first friend, and she not permitting me to be her Lover.  
Yet since I had discovered my passion, my heart was something more at ease: and my greatest hope was, in knowing certainly that Dorinice did hold me in the notion of friendship, so as imagining it not impossible but her affection might change its nature, and believing it a more easy step from friendship to love, then from indifferency unto that passion, my hopes did keep life in them: so as I passed over some days without any great inquietude, thinking it but fit I should give Dorinice some time of consideration before I could expect any recompense: Yet there was not a day in which this multitude of her friends did not perplex me, and in which I did not fear that this which some of them called friendship, may be called by the name of Love: and indeed I understood at last, that there were at least two Lovers in this disguise of friendship: so that with jealousy and love together, I had many a vexatious hour. Yet after I had well observed these concealed Rivals, I was not so jealous of them, as of some other of her friends: Not but that one of them was very handsome, and likely to prove a very dangerous Rival, for his person was very pleasing, and he had a delicate wit: and since his first affection was unto a person of great merit and wit, this did infuse such a politeness into his conversation, as made him so accomplished as he was; for it is most certain that nothing is more pernicious unto young men, than first to engage themselves in Love with foolish persons: and indeed, this second Rival made this apparent which I speak, for he was better born than the other, also he had wit and spirit enough: and yet it was his misfortune to fall at first into intimacy and familiarity with many women of mean merit, who were unfashionable, and knew not the world, so as he blasted his wit by their society, and did insensibly accustom himself, to be such a one as his company were, so as I had no cause to fear him: And for the other, though he had wit, merit, and manners enough, yet I did not fear him neither; because Dorinice suspecting him in Love with her, did treat him worse than the rest of her friends. I saw also very clearly, that these two Rivals had not so great a part as myself in the heart of this fair one; for she was pleased to tell me what they said unto her: But as for her friends, she would not impart the least syllable of what they said, though I vowed she was most absolute Mistress of my hear, and told her, that though generosity required that I should never reveal the secrets of my friends: Yet she had such a power over me, that I could not keep my own: But this aggravation of my Love caused a great quarrel the next day; for be pleased to know Sir, that both of us meeting the day following in a place where one of the Ladies who formerly I loved was with much other company, Dorinice very craftily began to talk of the power which a Mistress hath over the heart of her Lover: and hearing that some reports of my passion were divulged in our Court, she would needs be so pleasant as to twit me with it. And to that end she told me very openly, that as I was talking the day before with her, I said, that as soon as ever I became a Lover, I would sacrifice all my own, and my friends secrets unto my Mistress, and that I had already told her all the passages of my first Love: So as being driven to the necessity either of contradicting what she whom I then loved had said, or else displeasing her whom I loved not, I made choice of the latter, and would rather anger my old Mistress than my new one; yet I turned the matter as well as I could: Indeed I said (replied I unto Dorinice) that when one is in love, one hath nothing which is their own: but I did not say I would relate the secrets of friends and former loves unto my Mistress, what I said was this, that if she would needs know them, and command me peremptorily to tell them, I should have much ado to disobey her. Yet (replied one of Dorinices' friends who always told her every thing) I do not think that aught to be; for if I did, I would never tell any thing unto my friends: For my part (said the Lady whom I loved) I think he is a perfidious Lover, who reveals the secrets of his Friend unto his Mistress, and that she is an unworthy Mistress who shall desire it.  
For my particular (replied a friend of Dorinices' whose name was Nirtile, unto whom she made sign to contradict that Lady whom I loved) I do not understand your meaning, but I am sure that the greater sweetness of love is the absolute empire of a Lover's heart: and if I had one who should conceal any thing from me which I desired to know, I would never look upon him again; for he did not love me, if he did not blindly obey me, right or wrong: and I would not only have a Lover tell the secrets of his friends, but I would also have him commit an unjust act if I should command him: he may as well do the last (replied a friend of Dorinices', whose name was Oxaris) as reveal the secrets of his friends, which of all things in the world ought most inviolably to be kept: and for my part, who does not think that Justice and generosity are incompatible with love, I cannot think it allowable to be perfidious, but am so much against it, that had I a Mistress who would exact this testimony of my love, I should no longer esteem her, and consequently be no longer her Lover, and so should never tell her my friends secrets.  
Did you know what Love were (replied I) you would not have said so: For though a Mistress should command unjust things, yet for all that one cannot leave loving her for it: for if love were a thing voluntary, it would of necessity follow that all the world would love none but admirable persons, such as there is not perhaps three in a whole Kingdom, and in a whole age: and there would be such a crowd about them, that there would be no approaching: Yet experience shows us every day, that there are men of great wits, parts, and spirits, who fall in love with persons that have faults, and faults which they know of, and which yet will not cure their passions. I know very well (replied Oxaris sharply) that one may find his Mistress a little pale, or a little swarthy complexioned, and yet not leave loving her: and one may know that there is some unequality in her humour, and some levity in her spirit, and yet not change, yet I cannot understand how one should continue loving a woman without honesty and virtue. And I dare boldly affirm that the person who reveals the secrets of his friends, is as great an offender against the rules of virtue and honesty, as any Traitor is; and there is nothing in the world more odious then to betray those who trust them. Were I to judge only of the thing itself (replied Nyrtile) I should condemn it: But however I must needs affirm, that if a man be in love, and will not tell his Mistress all he knows i● she desire it, he does but love by halves; for he is not so much obliged in point of honour, to conceal the secrets of his friends, as he is in point of love to tell his Mistress what she desires to know: For he is not to examine whether her desires be just or no, but to give her a testimony of his love, he is to obey her blindly; since there is no greater than that of obedience, and without obedience there is no love nor delight in loving.  
For my part (replied my former Mistress) I know not how to comprehend this: and for my part (replied Oxaris) I see no reason in it: Fer I beseech you (said he unto Dorinice, though he did not dispute the matter with her) may there not be many just causes of ceasing to love: Doubtless there may (replied she:) if so (replied he) why is it more just, that jealousy should make love die, then when you discover your Mistress is not truly virtuous; as she is not, if she would have you perfidious; is there not much more reason to break off with her for that, then because she did not cast an eye a little favourably upon a Rival? should I look upon you as a Philosopher: you have reason for what you say (answers Nirtile) but when I look upon you as a Lover, I cannot think you aught to deny your Mistress any thing. Truth is, i● you deny her any thing that is unjust, you are to be looked upon as a wise man, whose passions are all in his own command.  
But for all that, the Lady who required the injustice from you, will charge you with being a bad Lover: For though she be in the wrong, to desire any thing that in unreasonable, however you have no reason to deny her, and you can expect nothing, unless whilst your friends do say you are discreet, your Mistress will say you know not how to love. The best of it is (replied I) not to grieve the Lady too much with whom I had former correspondency) There are but few Ladies who are so unjust, or who will trouble themselves with knowing a thousand trifles which they have nothing to do withal.  
For my part (replied Dorinice very maliciously) were I in the humour of having a Lover, my chief delight would be in making him relate all passages of his past love. As for the secrets of his friends, I would not desire to know them: but as for trifles of gallantry which are such fond follies when they are passed, and seem always so to them who have no interest in them, I should take the greatest pleasure in the world in hearing them exactly related unto me: and if any reason induce me to admit of a Lover, I think it will be in hopes of this delight, in which I fancy such great diversion: And if I do make choice of a Lover, it shall be of such a one who hath loved many others; for though they say first passions are most violent, yet I would not be his first Mistress, lest I should lose the pleasures which I mentioned before. If Madam, the knowledge of many secrets do so much delight one (replied I) then if you should admit of a Lover who were of Nirtiles humour, he would have a fine time of it, if you should reveal all the secrets of your friends unto him: You I say, who has such a multitude of them, that they can hardly be numbered. I cannot tell whether you jeer me in this or no (replied she and smiled) but I conceive the greatest commendations that can be given me is, that I have so much wit as to get and keep so many friends: But Madam (said I unto her to turn the discourse) do you think it any honour in admitting so many of them? and do you believe that under colour of this gallant kind of friendship you ought to have a thousand at a time? if so, I must needs confess, that I think it a great conveniency for a Lover to have many Mistresses, as for a Lady to have many Gallants. I am so fully persuaded (replied Dorinice) that one may have as many friends as they will, that I look upon my friendship as a thing infinite: and when I have purchased any new friend, and paid him my friendship for it, after the rate that I think he esteems me, yet I find myself as rich within a quarter of an hour after, as if I had given him nothing for it: Then I perceive (said I unto her) that it is not according to merit that you grant your affection. No (replied she) merit is the measure of my esteem, and friendship the measure of my friendship, and thus I assure you I use to distribute myself very equally.  
For my particular (replied I) I cannot conceive that one can much love such a number of men, nor know how any man can content himself with the hundred part of a heart; for if I had not a whole one, I should never think myself happy. Then you shall never have one (replied Dorinice and smiled) for I will never give all mine unto one man. After which, she rising up, and I going with her, I complained against her for her malice, and afterwards in a low voice used all my Rhetoric to persuade her unto a permission of my passion: But all to no purpose, and all my arguments and persuasions could obtain no more from her, than the first of her friends: so as seeing no other remedy, I would try, if I could content myself with that rank she gave me in her heart: And indeed, I must needs say, that Dorinice was as good as her promise unto me, and I had no cause to think that she was more favourable unto any friend than unto me: For she spoke to me with much confidence, she was always very glad to see me, she discoursed with delight, and she would sincerely give me her opinion in any thing we talked of. Moreover, she did interest herself in my fortune; if I were sick, she would send constantly to see how I did: if by chance I were two days from her, she would have me tell her what I had been doing: She took my part always ever against her dearest friends: she would highly commend me: she would have all her acquaintance esteem me, and was every way very obliging. So as it may be said, that I enjoyed all the sweets and pleasures of a most solid, tender, and gallant friendship. Yet all this while I was nothing contented, and the most favourable looks of Dorinice made me more angry then pleased; for though I never saw her eyes incensed, yet I could never see them as I desired: The truth is, she looked upon me, as people use to look upon all indifferent objects which are in their sight; her eyes were all tranquillity, and I could never see in them the least languishing glance which is the true character of Love.  
I never saw them troubled, transported, or passionate; they had no language of Love in them, nor did they understand me when mine spoke in that dialect: So as I could never think myself happy.  
Moreover, though she was always gladder when I talked with her, than any other of her friends, yet I could never perceive that my conversation made any deep impression; for if any who had any private business came unto her, she would leave me to talk with him, and leave me without any Regret: also be at several diversions wherein I had no share without any inquietudes, and all the privilege I had by being her first friend was, that she would sometimes be a little freer with me than with others, and knowing that I did love her though I did not often tell her so, she used all ways imaginable to make me believe, that her Amity would never be any other than Amity, and indeed she did so well persuade me of it, that I thought myself the most miserable man alive. So as not being able to contain myself any longer, I fell into a continual course of complaints and complained so much that I was troublesome unto her: And the very truth is, my complaints were excusable, for there is nothing upon Earth more intolerable then to be extremely in Love with one who retturns only friendship: And there is no comparison to be made between that misery, and to love without being loved again: For in this case one is perpetually near a happiness, and never is like to enjoy it, and all services are to no end further than what one already knows, which can never give any content for it is a most undoubted truth, that the most fervent friendship in the world, is not comparable to the lowest degree of Love: Yet Dorinice would needs one day persuade me, that my complaints were unjust, for (said she) were my affection to you of another nature than it is, I should do less for you then I do: I should think Madam, (said I unto her) that in doing less, you did more, and I am so confident of what I say, that I should think myself more happy if I could see you sometimes turn away your fair eyes for fear of meeting mine, than to see them so full of tranquillity as they are; and to show you how little my Love is satisfied with your friendship I do declare unto you Madam, that your indifferency would be much less intolerable. This is so very fantastical (replied she) that I almost think you are out of your wits; were you in love Madam but one quarter of an hour, (replied I) you would quickly find that the most miserable condition of a Lover, is to be persuaded that he must never be loved; so that Madam, beignning to think that it is is an easier step from indifferency unto Love, than that a long continued friendship should become that passion, you need not wonder I should think myself the most miserable of men, in that I see all my Love, all my Cares, and all my Services can never alter the nature of your affection to me. And yet Madam, me thinks it is so easy a matter for you to make me happy, that I know no reason why you do not: For I am contented you should love me less than you do, so you will but love me in another manner, and otherwise it is impossible I should ever be satisfied, for Love is never satisfied but with Love again, and all your tender, gallant, and solid friendship is not comparable to the lowest degree of that passion, and therefore I beseech you judge, whether it be likely to satisfy the most violent passion that ever was: For all this (replied Dorinice) I must tell you again, that if I should love in that manner as you mean, you would be less happy th●n you are; for now I show you all the tenderness of my heart, I communicate my very soul unto you, and I have a thousand obliging cares for you; whereas if I should love you as you desire I should, I should then conceal all the tenderness of my thoughts from you, I should make choice of the most indifferent words to express my affection to you, and I should shun the place where you are, and therefore I pray judge whether you would not be more miserable in my Love than in my friendship: And to tell you truly, it is my friendship unto which you are beholding, for this my indulgency in suffering you to speak thus unto me of your passion, for did I not perceive the constitution of my heart such, as it is impossible I should ever love you in any other manner, I should never suffer you.  
Oh Madam, (said I) this is the extremity of cruelty; how ignorant are you in the sweets of Love and of being loving, a hundred and a hundred thousand friends cannot afford one single gust of it. I beseech you consider, that you have not an absolute power over any one of your friends; there is not one of them but are able to deny you something: Whereas your power over me is absolute without any exception, you are mistress of my destiny, you can frame all my good fortune, and all my bad, and you have such an absolute Empire in my heart, that you must reign in it as long as you live. But Madam, to reign with delight, you must take some care for the preservation of your authority: Cast off therefore Madam, this multitude of friends, amongst all which, perhaps there is not one who truly merits the name of friend, or are realy worthy of your friendship: But if you will not rid yourself of this crowd which are troublesome both to you and me, yet I beseech you make some difference in your Love betwixt me and them, for I do affect singularity so much in matter of affection, that I cannot endure to be loved in the same degree with others. Put some difference, I beseech you Madam, betwixt me and your friends, and know that if you do not, I must infallibly either lose my life, or my reason and wits, for I am most certain I can never lose that affection which I have unto you.  
Me thinks Mereontes (said she unto me) that in telling you I esteem you as the chief of my friends, and so distinguish you, that this should content you: Alas Madam (replied I) though you should tell me that I am your only friend, and though I am a Lover of singularity, yet should I not be contented; for your affection is still friendship, and before I can be satisfied, your friendship must either become Love or my Love friendship, and therefore since it is an easier matter to add some degree of heat unto your affection, than it is to quench the flames of mine, I beseech you and conjure you to strive a little to love me in another manner than you do.  
But Mereontes, (said she unto me) do you not consider that if I should love you as you desire, you shall receive no favours from me? and that I cannot be so indulgent to you as now I am, for I see you, and I talk as long as you please: Yes Madam (replied he sharply) you do see me, and you do talk with me; but you do them not with the same joy which you would, if you loved me as I desire: There wants that mutual exchange of pleasures which does nourish and augment Love, and which is the chief felicity of Lovers And therefore Madam only out of curiosity, I beseech you try the difference between Love and Friendship, and do not deprive yourself of life's greatest delight, by making me the most miserable of men.  
Yet all these intimations in the sweets of Love unto Dorinice were to no purpose, for Sir, she was unalterable, and I could not obtain the least hope of ever changing her mind: So I was in a most miserable condition, nor could I make any appeal to the Judges and Laws of Love, because they were established only for such as do or did love one another, and I bring the only party that ever loved, I could not have any remedy for them. Yet was I not able to enclose all my sorrows in my heart, but complained in such a sad manner unto Doronices friend whose name was Nyrtile, that I did mollify her heart, and moved her to speak in my behalf unto her friend.  
And as they were walking one day in a Garden, she severed her from the rest of her company, and told her she did not well to mix me among the number of her other friends, and that she had no reason to entertain such a crowd of them as she did. For truly, (said Nyrtile to her) my humour is such that I had rather make choice of some man of accomplished parts, than to love a hundred or two. Alas Nirtile, (said she than unto her) can you think I do love all those who term themselves my friends? I cannot tell (answered Nirtile) but you seem as if you did, and as if you thought them all the most faithful, and sincere friends in the world.  
The truth is (answered Dorinice) I am just unto all my friends, for I know how to distinguish betwixt those who visit me out of vanity, or for interest, or out of custom, or out of inclination: And I have unto those who love me, such a kind of civility as befits such as are to be esteemed; for if I had not, I should deprive myself of a thousand delights, which the conversation of such men afforded it but for all that, I only love those who love me very well, and I am able to make it my boast, that I am the justest person in the world unto all those who use to see me▪ You must except Mereontes Madam, (replied Nyrtile) for certainly he has no reason to be pleased with you.  
Perhaps he hath more reason than you imagine, (replied she) for I assure you, I have been striving as much as I could these two months together, either to love him as he would be, or else to hate him: The one half of this had been enough to have told me (replied Nirtile) doubless it had (replied she) but I could not unless I had lied; for the truth is, Mereontes doth every day move me unto both those thoughts, though they be very opposite to each other: When I look upon his restless inquietude, and consider his Merit, his Affection, and my own Friendship to him, I wish I were able to make him happy by loving him as he desires: But on the other side, when he smothers me with his complaints, upbraids me with my many friends, and permittance of many Lovers, this unjust persecution makes me desire to hate him, and yet I find an equal impossibility in both; and therefore I must remain as I am, and if he be not contented, I cannot help it.  
However Madam (said Nirtile to her) though you cannot love him, yet I beseech you be less friendly unto others, and lessen the number of such friends as do so nearly resemble Lovers, that truly I wonder Merontes doth not look upon them as Rivals. Nay, as for that Nirtile, (replied Dorinice) indeed I cannot do it, and to tell you truly, that was as much as I could do, did I love Mereontes? for these kind of trivial amities of gallantry do render conversation so agreeable, and so sweetly amuse the mind, without disquieting the heart, as I cannot part with one of them.  
Truly Madam (replied Nirtile) you are very unreasonable, I know not (said Dorinice) whether I be unreasonable; but I cannot think it any imprudence; for as I do behave myself, I do enjoy a thousand pleasures without hazarding my reputation, and I do enjoy them without any inquietudes of melancholy, and therefore I pray tell Mercontes, (if he did interest you to speak unto me) that his best course is to rest in quiet, and to let me rest so also. For it were a most cruel thing that one who enjoys all the delights of innocent gallantry, should expose herself unto all the persecutions of Love, when she is not capable of that passion.  
After this Nirtile had no more to say, but as one that was very sincere, she told me the next morning all the discourse, with intention to persuade me, either to comply with the humour of Dorinice, or to quench my flames of Love, but to tell you truly, I could do neither.  
In the mean time, the season of the year came on, in which we were wont to celebrate a great feast of thanks, unto the gods for separating us from the ancient Sauromates, this was the time when Dorinices' crowd of friends did more perplex me then usual, for she was continually taken up with some piece of courtship or other, so as I may say, I saw her and saw her not; and to my grief I observed every day an addition of new friends which others brought unto her: And as soon as the admirable Sappho came into our Court, Phacn, and the brother of Phylire were also admitted into the number of her friends. I wished that I could make myself as many friends as she did, to try if any such delight could be found in a multitude, but it was impossible for me, yet I saw Sappho and Agelaste very often, and complained of my misery unto them; for my passion was grown so public, that every one knew of it. And truly I must needs confess, I found much comfort from them; for both of them did so penetrate into the depth of my thoughts, that I perceived they knew them as well as myself. And since they did not think it expedient to flatter me, they ingeniously told me, that they did not think so ancient a friendship as that of Dorinices' unto me, could ever become love, so Sir, knowing Sappho to be one, who knew every one that came into her company, the soon and most perfectly of any one in the world; I grounded as much upon what she said as if she had been one who could infallibly tell the future fate of things: And though I found much comfort in complaining unto her against the unalterable coldness of Dorinices' heart, yet she made me much more miserable, by telling me her thoughts. But in the confidence that I had in the depth of her wisdom, I desired her she would be pleased to take so much pains as to sound the depth of Dorinices' mind, and to tell me then her opinion; so as I obliged her to promise me her best endeavour, and to report unto me the truth of her imaginations: And after she had held much discourse with Dorinice several times: After a serious consideration of her behaviour, and after extraordinary pains to know her throughly, and had spoken of me unto her with much affection; she told me that there was no hopes that Dorinice would ever change her mind: and that if I could not be contented with being the first of her friends, she would advise me to be no longer her Lover: Alas Madam (said I unto her) it is not the quality of Dorinices' friend can ever satisfy me: and yet were I the only one who had that title, perhaps I should preserve all my Love unto her, provided she bestowed all her friendship upon me: But Madam, she adds every day unto the number of her friends, and therefore since Dorinice cannot love me, nor let me have her entire friendship, I must endeavour to quench my flames: For it is not possible I should long continue loving one whose soul is so rocky, that she had rather make me miserable, than part from the least of her friends: And since I am not able to leave loving her as long as I see her, I must quit my Country. Sappho honouring me with her friendship, did at the first oppose my design: But at last, she saw I was so miserable, that she confessed banishment would be more sweet unto me, than Dorinices' presence. Yet since she would not omit any thing which might conduce unto my tranquillity, she brought it so to pass by the negotiation and discretion of Phaon, that though the Judges appointed for the determination of all differences in Love, could not by their Law meddle with any things but such as passed between persons who had once contracted affection, yet they would take conusance of this difference between Dorinice and me. At the first it did much incense her: but since Sappho procured the Queen to countenance the matter by her Authority, she was forced to put in her answer, and I also preferred my Complaint before the Judges.  
Then they began to put several questions of much curiosity, for they asked whether a Lover could content himself with the friendship of one, who did not love any other? They asked also whether a Lover had any reason to be jealous of the friends unto his Mistress? and whether these two things were a cause of legal complaint, and a just reason to change affection? Time will not allow me Sir, to particularise the whole matter unto you who have no interest in it: But give me leave to tell you in short, that after serious consideration of these two questions, the judges said, that as to the first it was out of all doubt, that Friendship could never come in comparison with Love, nor give it satisfaction: And they declared that a Lover might accuse his Mistress of ingratitude, and complain as of a high piece of injustice, if she do not answer his▪ affection with an affection of the same nature. For besides (say they) that Love is a passion which in all things requires equality of hearts. They said further, that a Lover can never be in security as long as his Mistress is only his friend; since he is in danger every moment to see her fall in love with another: so as they declared that I had good reason not to be satisfied with the friendship of Dorinice.  
Afterwards they said, that as to the second thing in question, That jealousy was of so large an extent, that possibly it might be so, as one might be jealous without any Rivals, since one might be jealous of any thing, which too much took up the heart of the person loved; and (said he who reported the opinion of the assembly) since one is not so jealous of those thoughts which others have of the Lady whom one loves, as they are of those thoughts which she hath of others, it follows, that one may be jealous of any thing which engageth her heart any manner of way: If she affect any solitude too much, a Lover may without extravagancy be a little jealous: Judge therefore I beseech you then, since Dorinice having a hundred Friends who may become her Lovers, or who at least take up a great part of her heart, and who fill up her time so, that Mereontes can hardly ever speak unto her: whether I say, such a Lover hath not reason to entertain some thoughts which may be termed jealousy, and whether he have not reason to complain of her, since she is so eternally taken up with her friends, and such friends as so nearly resemble Lovers, that one may easily mistake the one for the other.  
As soon as this was said, a friend of Dorinices' who pretended unto the first Rank, stood up, and said that it was great injustice to think friends could be jealous: That this was the way to violate all the privileges of friendship, which of all things upon earth ought to be most inviolable: And that it would put a great disorder and confusion amongst all men, if love and friendship should be declared incompatible; for as friendship cannot be without love, so love and friendship may consist together.  
Then she instanced many examples out of antiquity, to make it appear that one may be a zealous Lover and a zealous Friend both at one time: And amongst the rest that of Achilles, who though extremely in love with Briseis, yet loved Patrocles with abundance of tenderness: And after this, he desired it might be declared, that Dorinice might admit of as many friends as she pleased, without being subject unto any complaints against her: But Sir, after this friend of Dorinices' had said all he could, and after I had answered all his objections against me, the Judges ordained, that Dorinice should make her choice, either to answer my affection with the like: Or if she could not, and would yet preserve me, to exclude all the rest of her friends, to the end I might solely remain in her heart: declaring, that if she would do neither of these two, I might lawfully quit her without inconstancy, or being accused of ingratitude. So Sir, Dorinice being unable either to love me, or renounce that multitude of friends which diverted her, she publicly declared that she was so far from doing either of these two things, as she was fully resolved upon two other things quite contrary: For (said she) I am resolved never to love as long as I live, neither will I fail to admit of more new friends. You may easily imagine Sir, how this cruel Declaration of Dorinices' went to my heart: But that which finished my despair was, that she sent unto me she would never see me any more, and yet the very same day she sent this rigorous message, she admitted of two fresh friends: so as resolving upon absence, I employed the illustrious Sappho to obtain a licence from the Queen, to go out o● her Dominions: And so I did, without bidding adieu unto any but Sappho, Agelaste, and Phaon.  
As soon as I had passed those Deserts which environ our Country, I came into the Territories of the ancient Sauromates, where I found Troops ready to depart, which Aripithes had levied for Thomyris: So as I conceiving War the best remedy against Love, I followed them without any other design but to forget Dorinice. But though I am not able to do it, yet I am so fully resolved never to see her again, that I will voluntarily banish myself for ever out of the most pleasant Country in the world. But Sir, if you will be pleased to give me leave to devote myself inseparably unto your service, I shall hope for more tranquillity and satisfaction then ever I had: And my joys in finding such an illustrious Protector will be above my sorrows for the loss of an unjust Mistress.  
Mereontes having ended his Relation and his Compliment, Cyrus returned a very obliging answer unto this illustrious Sauromate. After which, entering into deep Cogitations of his past misfortunes and present miseries, he spoke little all the rest of the day. But night being come, and all things ready, Cyrus entered into this close Coach which Meliantes; and Mereontes being their Convoy, they got out by the favour of the night, none observing that Cyrus was in the Coach: And as they got well out of the Camp, so they arrived at the Tents Royal; and as good luck for Cyrus was, the Tent of Meliantes being one of the very first, Cyrus was presently in a place where none could see him unless Meliantes would, and where it was unlikely any would seek for him; for his death was so generally believed on all sides, that it was divulged over all places in the world. The Grecians which were in the Army writ into Greece, the Persians sent unto Persepolis; the Medes made it known in Media; Intaphernes writ into Pontus and Bythinia; The Assyrians sent into Babylon: Thrasimedes writ it into Lycia: Ligdamis unto Ephesus, Myrsiles unto Sardis, and so all the rest into their several Countries: And the noise of his death was so universally divulged in all remote places, and so generally believed, that many excellent Histories were deceived by the mistake, and Historians have left this supposed death of Cyrus in their Histories, as true, though the truth is, it was the unfortunate Spitridates who lost his life, and passed for this illustrious Conqueror.  
In the mean time, Feraulas in this general belief of Cyrus his death, endeavoured all manner of ways to find out his Corpse: And having many friends since the time that Cyrus was there under the name of Artamenes, he employed all their helps in the discovery: But in his Quest of one thing, he discovered another, which made him extremely joyed; for he understood by accident, that the Gelon Captain who presented the head of Spitridates unto Thomyris, as the head or Cyrus, did endeavour to sell those rich Arms of gold which that unfortunate Prince did wear the last day of his life, and which Cyrus gave unto him after his Combat with Aripithes: So as Feraulas knowing that Cyrus wore a very common suit of Arms that day, he concluded, that of necessity it must be the head of Spitridates which Thomyris plunged in blood, and not of Cyrus: so as much hope and joy began to revive in his soul, and so as the death of Spitridates which before made him full of sorrow, now filled him full of joy.  
On the other side, as soon as Cyrus was got safe into the Tent of Meliantes, where Mereontes was close concealed with him, Meliantes began to contrive ways for his deliverance: and yet he would not be seen in two days, lest his Counterfeit sickness should be suspected: And during these two days, Mereontes and he did bethink themselves whether there was any possibility of releasing Mandana, as well as Cyrus: For since there was many Sauromates in the Army of Thomyris, who since the death of their Prince, had no affection unto that Princess, they thought it no hard business to move them unto a mutiny. And since it was Mereontes who had commanded them under Aripithes, it was most fit for him to negotiate with the rest of the Captains over those Forces. So as Meliantes and he communicating their thoughts unto Cyrus, he did so concur with them, that he desired them to endeavour the execution of this design, before they thought any more of getting him out of the Tents Royal. And truly said he unto them, if you can bring the business unto that pass, as that there must be any fight for Mandana, I will be there in person, and not be a debtor unto your valour only for her Liberty.  
That which did further the design of Mereontes was, that there were many Sauromattan Captains in the Tents Royal, who stayed there to ask the leave of Thomyris for their departure. So that to lose no time, after Meliantes had kept in two days to disguise his sickness, he went out; and sounding the minds of the Sauromattan Captains, who were all intimate friends unto Mereontes, he found their pulses to beat according to his wishes: So as obliging them very handsomely to come one Evening unto his Tent, he let them see Mereontes, unto whom they did as much vow their obedience, as unto their Prince, expressing so much desire to revenge his death, as they wished Cyrus were living, that they might fight under his Banners: Yet Mereontes did not think it expedient to tell them that their wishes were accomplished, until their design was riper: but he desired them to dispose the minds of their Soldiers, so as they might obey them upon any occasion whatsoever, assuring them, that if they did make themselves Masters of their Troops, he would very shortly give them a brave occasion to signalise their Valours, to revenge the death of Aripithes, to get much glory, and to enrich themselves if they would. After which, some of them returned to the Camp, to do as Mereontes desired them, and the rest stayed still to confer about the correspondency betwixt Mereontes and them.  
After this, Cyrus being acquainted with the promises of these Captains, he resolved that when they had made sure of their Soldiers, to give secret intelligence of this unto Croesus and Mazares, who commanded his Army, to the end that when the Sauromates did sever themselves from the Army of Thomyris, to fall upon the Tents Royal, they might at the same time fall upon the Camp of Ariantes: And that those great Auxiliaries which Ciaxares sent him under the name of Aglatidas his Kinsman, might attempt to join with them, and enforce those Troops which Andramites had set to guard the passages: So as Thomyris and Ariantes having so many things to do at once, they might be the more dismayed, and easier overcome.  
But since he would not attempt any thing rashly, until he heard the Sauromattan Captains were a●●ured of their Soldiers, Cyrus was in a strange perplexity, for he durst not make it known unto Mandana that he was alive, lest the way of his conveying that news unto her should miscarry, and so he should both ruin himself, and deprive her of his assistance. Doubtless he might have obliged Meliantes to have made it known unto Arpasia, and by her, have conveyed it unto Mandana: But as oft as he considered, if he should fall into the hands of Thomyris, both he and she were for ever ruined, he chose rather to let her be ignorant of his being living, then to hazard their being for ever miserable. Yet sometimes he was so extremely desirous she should know he was living, that he was ready to run through all dangers, and would hazard all for one single sight of Mandana. That which most augmented his desire of it was, because he saw no great difficulty in it; for he understood by Meliantes, that the Tent wherein she was, was not now so strictly guarded: and that Thomyris and Ariantes were so fully persuaded of his death, that they feared not the speaking of any unto her, and yet the Guards were so strict, as to hinder her from making an escape: Ariantes also was very circumspect to hinder Thomyris from executing any revenge upon that Princess: but it was no difficulty to obtain so much liberty as to speak with her, since the death of Cyrus was believed: So as this great Prince who had never seen Mandana, since Ariantes under the name of Anaxaris carried her away, had now a most unmeasurable desire of seeing her, so as he could not choose but express as much unto Meliantes and Mereontes: but they made it so full of danger unto him, that they dissuaded him: For Sir (said Meliantes unto him) should you be known, it would not be your life that would be in the danger, for the affection which Thomyris has unto you, would keep her from being so cruel unto Cyrus' living, as she was unto Cyrus' dead: But what cruelties will she not inflict upon the Princess Mandana? therefore I beseech you command me no such service, as you may repent of it as long as you live, and which may render you the miserablest of men.  
So Cyrus being convinced both of his reasons and his prayers, he resolved to give over all thoughts of seeing Mandana, and think of nothing but how to conceal himself in expectation of this great attempt which Meliantes and Mereontes was plotting; for as Mereontes had great credit amongst the Sauromates, so Meliantes endeavoured to gain some of Mandana's Guard, with whom he was in very good esteem, yet he could not do any thing against Hydaspes: and if he did get any new credit in the heart of Arpasia, it was without diminishing of the reputation of his Rival. However, flattering himself, and knowing very well that A●pasia esteemed him very much; he believed that if he could once deliver Mandana and Cyrus, Hydaspes then durst not dispute with him for the possession of Arpasia. But sometimes the violence of his Love would put his Virtue unto a most difficult trial; for when he thought, that if he should put Cyrus into the hands of Thomyris, he should easily oblige her to put Arpasia into his, his heart did a little stagger: Yet for all that, Meliantes was both just and generous, and would not buy the possession of Arpasia at so unworthy a rate as the ruin of the greatest Prince, and most victorious Princess in the world. So as transacting upon noble Principles, and choosing rather to be unfortunate, then to be happy by any base ways, or by the miseries of illustrious persons, he seconded the valiant Mereontes, who had negotiated the business so happily, that all the Captains of his correspondency assured him their Soldiers were at their command, and they at his, demanding yet some days to get the Jealous unto their side, who exceedingly murmured that it should be a Captain of their Nation, who in hope of recompense should present the supposed head of Cyrus unto Thomyris; though they said, that without them he had never conquered that Prince.  
In the interim, Cyrus heard by Meliantes, that the Armies were still in their Trenches: That the Relief which Cyaxares sent, drew near: that Arsamones was killed by a Rebellion of the people: that the Princess his Daughter was extremely troubled, and that both she and Araminta grieved that they could not hear what was become of Spitridates: But the most observable of all was, Meliantes understood by Arpasia, that these two days Mandana was nothing so sad as she was: her tears did stop, her sighs were not so frequent, and she could talk of any thing. Cyrus' ask every day how Mandana did; and Meliantes using to show him the greatness of her sorrows, because he saw it was some sweetness unto him to know the fidelity of her he loved, he was much put to it, how to answer him that day: yet since he would not disquiet him, he told him that he knew not how she did that day, but being something slow in the return of his answer and the spirit of a Lover being more penetrating than any others: Cyrus did know that Meliantes had not answered him sincerely; so that imagining Mandana to be very sick with grief, his spirits were so stirred, and he expressed himself so sadly unto Meliantes, as he acquainted him ingeniously with what Arpasia had said, adding to qualify the matter, that doubtless, Mandana did moderate her grief at the hearing of the relief which the King her Father had sent: And therefore hoping to see his Death shortly revenged, and herself delivered, the Excess of her sorrows did something diminish.  
Alas Meliantes (cried Cyrus out) if Mandana can so soon forget my death, Mandana will never think upon revenging it; No, no, Mandana is unfaithful: Ariantes triumphs over my misfortune, and I am the most miserable of men. Oh I beseech you Sir, (replied Meliantes) do not thus afflict yourself at what I tell you, until you know whether you have any cause, for you have so many real causes to grieve at, that me thinks you should not build upon any appearances which are often fallacious, No, no Meliantes, (replied Cyrus) the consolation of Mandana can have no cause which can be advantageous unto me, and I am sure that if she had not changed her affection to me, she could not believe me dead, or receive her Liberty without Tears: And therefore I must sadly conclude, that since she can so soon clear up her sorrows, I must despair; but yet Meliantes, I desire to die at her feet after I have killed Ariantes. Sir, (replied he) when our design is ripe then perhaps in delivering Mandana, you may kill your Rival, but in the mean time, I beseech you be not too rash. Is it possible unjust Princess, (cried out Cyrus, and addressed his speech unto Mandana, as if she had heard him) that you can so soon forget the Death of a Prince, who valued his own life not at a straw, when he thought you dead at Synope? and who had most infallibly killed himself, had he been certain that you were not living? you I say, who has made me a promise of immortal affection, and whose soul always seemed unto me, so high and generous. Oh most ungrateful Princess, have you forgotten all I have done for you? can you retain in your imagination that bloody head which you thought to be mine, and be able to talk of things so indifferent? Oh Mandana, Can you think me dead and not grieve? if it be so, then am I the basest of all men living, if I continue still my Love unto you.  
As Cyrus was in this extremity of grief, and as Meliantes was endeavouring to comfort him, they heard a great noise; and a little after they understood, that fire accidentally happening in Mandana's Tents, they carried her, and all the rest of the Lady's Prisoners unto other Tents, and in their passage to them, they must of necessity go by the Tent where Cyrus was. This sadly afflicted Prince, would needs see Mandana with his own eyes, though Meliantes did what he could to hinder him: But Meliantes and Mereontes both got near him, purposely to hinder him from showing himself as Mandana passed by, and indeed they had good reason for their foresight; For when Mandana passed by, when he saw her in a Coach guarded by Ariantes, and when he observed in the Countenance of that Princess, a grave sadness without any extreme sorrow, his resentments were beyond all imagination.  
But to complete up the total sum of his sorrows, Mandanas' Coach was forced to stay, because one of the horses in that Coach wherein Araminta was, being lame upon a sudden, and that Coach going before Mandanas, it was also forced to stay: And as chance would have it, staying just before the Tent where Cyrus was, that Prince had better leisure to observe the motions of Mandanas' face; he could not discover either any joys or mirth in her, nor could he see any grief or excessive sorrow, but he saw one thing which made him almost mad and needs would he go and upbraid Mandana with a thousand reproaches: And if he had had any Arms, it is to be believed he would have set upon his Rival for all his great number of armed guards. The cause of his excessive rage was, because Mandana having Doralise and Martesia only in the Coach with her, and turning her head towards a multitude of people on her right hand which looked upon her as she passed by; she whispered Martesia in the ear, & showed unto her some body whom Martesia also looked upon, and as Mandana showed her, a little colour came into her Checks, which presently dissipating part of her sadness, did bring into her eyes such an inclination unto joy as appears in the aspects of such as smile, yet this disposition lasted but an instant: For presently after, Mandana lifting up her eyes unto Heaven, as if she prayed for something, returned unto her former aspect of serious sadness; but though this little smile did last but an instant, yet it raised a great and long sorrow in the soul of Cyrus.  
But as good fortune for him was, he was so surprised at this sight, as his wonder did for a time deprive him of his speech, otherwise certainly his complaints had been so loud, that Mandana might have heard them from the Tent where he was, and as good luck was, Meliantes and Mereontes were with him, to hinder him from showing himself as he intended.  
But the Horse in Aramintas Coach being recovered, both it and Mandanas began to put on, and Cyrus losing the sight of this Princess, he remained in a most miserable condition. Is it possible (said he, after he had recovered himself) that Mandana can smile under the power of my Rival? and in a belief that I am in my Grave? Since I have seen such a prodigious alteration in her heart, I shall not despair, but I can cease loving her. But alas the worst is, I do still love her and she loves not me; miserable wretch that I am (added this afflicted Prince) I did foresee it was an easier matter to be unfaithful unto a dead Lover, than to a living, and yet I would not let Mandana know that I was not dead: But alas (continued he) how could I ever imagine, that a Princess who has seen the greatest Princes in the world at her feet, and yet preserved her fidelity, should now be perfidious? How could I ever think that she, who for the Love of me, had rejected the King of Assyria, the Prince Mazares, the King of Pontus, and Ariantes himself, should the very next day think me in my grave, exclude me out of her heart, and memory, and become the most ungrateful and most unjust person in the world? But Sir, (said Meliantes) I do not understand why any thing I have said unto you, or any thing you have seen, should so excessively trouble you: No, no Meliantes, (replied Cyrus) I cannot be mistaken, I know the very bottom of Mandanas' heart, and I am so sure that she had some pleasing thoughts in her mind when I saw her, that it is impossible but I should be infinitely grieved. I thought that after all I had done for her, she should not so soon forget me, but that she should acknowledge my services by a long continued sorrow for my death, and yet I find her thoughts far different, and in such a condition, that if our design be not suddenly executed, I shall hear of her being at some public Diversion, and that she has recovered all her joys and pleasant humours again.  
Oh Heavens! that I should ever see this day? is it possible I should outlive the sight which I have seen? Yes, yes (added he upon second thoughts) I will live to be revenged upon her that does not lament my death, and to kill my happy Rival who hath driven me out of the heart of that unjust Princess, and who thinks himself my successor in her affection: But perfidious Anaxaris, as long as I live, thou shalt never enjoy Mandana. Afterwards this afflicted Prince fell into many bitter expressions, and was so instant with Meliantes and Mereontes to hasten their design, that he inspired them with fresh zeal to the Execution of it. And indeed they did transact their business so well that all the Sauromattan Captains did not only assure him of all the Sauromates but of the Gelons also. So as now having nothing to do but to make it known unto Croesus and Mazares that Cyrus was living, and to agree with them upon an hour of these several assaults which they thought fit to be made all at once, they propounded it as the safest expedient, that Meliantes should desire a Herald of Ariantes, to go and see a friend of his, who was really a prisoner on the other side, and that in the mean time, he who went with this Herald should speak in private with Croesus and Mazares, or if that could not be, then to Chrysantes or Feraulas, and acquaint them that Cyrus was living, and inform them of the state of things. But all the difficulty being to find a faithful man for this employment whom they might trust, and finding none, they changed their intentions, and resolved that Mereontes should disguise himself, and go into the Camp of Mazares: For said he, I can do it without any danger, since if any of Thomyris side do stop me, they will know me and take me to be one of their own side, and if any of Cyrus his men take me, they will carry me unto Cr●sus and Mazares: After this Mereontes without more delay, disguised himself; and after he had received all necessary instructions from Cyrus, for the Execution of the work, he departed.  
But that those Princes might give the more credit unto what he should tell them, Cyrus writ a little note of three lines only unto Mazares, which Mereontes might tear, or swallow, in case he were stopped by any of Thomyris men; and before he went, Cyrus maugre all his sorrows, courted his fidelity with a million of obliging expressions. But they were needless, for Mereontes of himself was wholly devoted unto the service of this Prince, and did negotiate the business with so much ingenuity and fidelity, that though he was stopped several times, yet he happily went his journey; for his habit being of that Nation of which there was some in both Armies, he was able to tell any side that he was of theirs, and he went through all the difficulties so fortunately that he got unto Croesus and Mazares: the truth is, he did not so much surprise them as he expected. For Feraulas an hour before, was returned from the Tents Royal, and had told them, that certainly the head which Thomyris had plunged in blood was not the head of Cyrus, but of Spitridates: So has Mereontes giving Mazares that Letter which Cyrus wrote unto him, they had no reason to doubt any thing he told them afterwards, also they knew him to be that valiant Sauromate, whose life Cyrus saved from the flames, after he had overcome him.  
But it was very observable, that though all the hopes of Mazares did die, by the reviving of Cyrus, yet he was so generous as to rejoice at it: The truth is, that to uphold his virtue, he had recourse unto his Love, and his hopes of seeing Mandana soon delivered; made him rejoice that Cyrus lived. And to let the height of his generosity appear, he endeavoured all manner of ways to hasten the execution of a design, which he thought being retarded, might ruin Cyrus, who being in a place where he might be discovered he was in abundance of Danger. So as consulting with Croesus and finding it expedient to impart the business unto the most considerable friends of Cyrus, they sent for the Prince Artamus, Myrsiles, Tygranes, Intaphernes, Gabrias, Gadates, Atergatis, Indatherses, Hydaspes, and Chrysantes.  
But in the interim, Croesus and Mazares caused Mereontes and Feraulas to tell them all they knew concerning Cyrus and Mandana, both of them sadly bewailing the sad resentments of that Princess when she heard of the supposed Death of Cyrus. Sirs (said Mereontes) there is more need of bewailing that great Prince, than that Princess: At least he thinks her two much comforted after his supposed death; for he saw her in a Coach before his Tent, and saw so few signs of sorrows in her face, that he saw her smile as she talked unto Martesia. And to tell you truly, I know not how she can excuse herself for being so soon comforted; but I am sure never Lover was so afflicted as the illustrious Cyrus was when he saw it, Alas, alas (cried cut Feraulas) it is with much injustice, and the joys which he saw in the face of that Princess, ought infinitely to oblige him: For generous Mereontes, that same day when Cyrus saw her, was the day when her Tent was on fire, and when they carried her into another, and that same day in the morning, I did let her know by Martesia, that it was the head of Spitridates wkich she saw, and not of Cyrus; so as it is no wonder if having some hopes of that Prince's life she was not so sad as when her own eyes told her that he was dead: And when he saw her smile a little, doubless it was an effect of her affection to him: For Martesia telling her how I was disguised, and amongst the multitude to see her pass by, she knew me, and showed me unto Martesia, making a little sign with her head unto me, to testify she was glad of the good news which I sent her, and not being able to think that Cyrus was living without the appearance of some joy in her eyes, me thought indeed I saw her smile a little: Oh Feraulas, (said Mereontes) how welcome will this news be unto Cyrus? for I am fully persuaded that from the first day of his loving Mandana unto this hour, nothing hath happened which ever made him half so miserable as this accident: Sir, (replied he) I can so easily justify this great Princess, that I have a great desire to return withal the haste I can to undeceive my illustrious Master of this Error. Indeed, I think it requisite (replied Croesus) that you return with Mereontes: For considering the depth of his resentments, perhaps he will imagine that Mereontes flatters him. Then whilst Croesus, Mereontes, and Feraulas were thus talking, and expecting the coming of those Princes whom they had sent for, Mazares was entertaining himself with his own thoughts, and carefully examined them, lest his love should be too strong for his virtue.  
At last, all the illustrious friends of Cyrus being come, and hearing with incredible joy that he was alive, they loadned Mereontes with a million of Carresles', and thanked him as heartily as if he had raised him from the dead. But Mereontes being all generosity, stopped them, and said, that it was not he who had saved the life of Cyrus, nor that would set him at liberty, but that it was an illustrious Assyrian called Meliantes. At the very name of Meliantes, Hidaspes changed colour, and could not choose but testify his a stonishment. How (said he and Gabrias both) is it Meliantes who was heretofore of Alfenes, is it he unto whom Cyrus is a Prisoner? Yes (replied Mereontes) he who hath the Destiny of Cyrus in his hands is the same Meliantes, who I understand did meet the fair Arpasia upon the banks of a little River, and who began his acquaintance with her, by relating how Sesostris had heretofore erected a stately Column unto his glory, upon which Column Arpasia did sit. Hidaspes being extremely vexed that Cyrus should be so obliged unto his Rival, his resentments of it were beyond expressions: but being generous, he assured the Princes that since he had promised fidelity unto Cyrus, he would keep it.  
After which they resolved to send in all haste unto Artabatis, who brought up the puissant Auxiliaties which Ciaxares sent, to the end that things might be so contrived, that at the very same time the Sauromates and the Gelons departed from the Army of Thomyris unto the Tents Royal, to try if they could deliver Mandana, they might fall upon Ariantes in three places at once.: And that Artabatis dividing his Troops, might fall upon Andramites with one part, and send another to encamp themselves between the Tents Royal, and the Camp of Thomyris, and so cut off communication between these two places, whilst Cyrus was fight with the Gelons and Sauromates against the rest, with orders to relieve, if need required.  
But since all this would require some time, Mereontes did not return, until it was known that Artabatis had received these orders, and promised exact obedience; and until he had taken a punctual measure for the march of those Troops which were to encamp themselves between the Tents Royal, and the Camp of Thomyris. The difficulty was, that Myrsiles, Intaphernes, Atergatis, and Hydaspes, who had each of them a Mistress in that place, would by all means join themselves with Cyrus, and fight next him: And indeed, though Croesus told them it was not expedient they should go, lest they should be taken, and prejudice that Prince, and discover him, yet they were resolved upon it. Yet the last of of these could not take that resolution without great agitation of spirit, in a thought that he should there meet with a Rival unto whom Cyrus owed his life and liberty. Artamas also had a great mind to go unto Cyrus, if he could have gone without prejudice to his side: but since he thought that he should do better service in the Army then in the Tents Royal, he restrained his desires.  
As for Indathirses, he much desired he might fight in the sight of Cyrus, but a generous thought made him resolve to go, and assault Thomyris even in her very Tents. As for Feraulas, he was resolved to go with Mereontes, and so did Chrisantes.  
But whilst these things thus passed, and whilst all these brave and gallant men were preparing themselves to go and fight for Cyrus, for Mandana, and for all the rest of the illustrious Captives, there passed things of great importance in the Tents Royal. Thomyris, the more she considered the state of her fortune, the more miserable she found herself: and the death of Cyrus taking at once from her the object both of her love, and of her revenge, her soul conceived a most horrid hatred both of Mandana, and of herself, which did in such a cruel manner torment her, that her intellects were not very free. As for Ariantes, since he saw Mandana was somewhat less melanchollick, he was abundantly joyed, so as he was in greater hopes, and Mandana in less persecution. Yet she being of a generous soul, she was extremely sad at the misfortune of Araminta, when she heard of Spitridates his death: Also, not knowing yet where Cyrus was, and not being so much joyed as not to doubt his death, she was far from thinking herself in any happy condition, although Feraulas had put her in great hopes by Martesia, so as she stood in need of Doralisa's consolation, who for her particular had the comfort of Andramites being far from her.  
As for Meliantes, since he had sometimes the liberty to see Arpasia, and hoped for much protection from Cyrus, he was in a happier condition than ever he was, since the time that Argelise arrived at Alfenes, to interrupt his felicity. But for Cyrus, he was in a worse condition than ever; as oft as it came into his imagination that Mandana should smile when she thought him dead, and so soon after the barbarous act of Thomyris, he thought that he had all the reason in the world to grieve. Truly (said he one day unto Meliantes) had Mandana changed her affection when she had some sparks of jealousy of the Princess Araminta, and had bestowed it upon the King of Pontus, I should have thought her more excusable. But that she should smile the very next day after she knew of my death, in a time when she was satisfied with my passion, and believed that I lost my life because I would continue faithful, and slighted a great Queen because I would be constant unto her, this adventure is so strangely terrible, that if these eyes of my own had not seen it, I could never have believed it, and yet alas now I cannot doubt it: Oh heavens! what a strange alteration is in her heart, since she was in Sinope, and there thought me dead? In those happy days she lamented me, she sighed and shed tears, and seemed to refuse all comforts; Yet then, I had scarcely done any thing for her, I had not so much as told her that I loved her, and yet she did all that reason required she should. But alas now, when I may justly demand a recompense for my million of services, and when I have thus long loved her the most fervently and constantly that was possible, she can smile, and perhaps so quite forget me, that she never thinks upon the miserable Artamenes, or the unfortunate Cyrus.  
Ah Mandana, unjust Mandana! is it possible I should ever have such cause to upbraid you? Can I live, and not go into the midst of your Guards? and in the very presence of Thomyris and Ariantes, proclaim you the most ungrateful person in the world? No no, Meliantes, I cannot live, unless Mandana know that I am living, and unless she know that I saw her smile when she thought me dead: I am ashamed that I should have more prudence than love, and my passion must this very day make it appear that I am fuller of Love, than Prudence. Oh Meliantes (continued he) you must needs invent some way to convey a Letter from me unto Mandana; for if you do not, I will go myself and chide her extremely for her poor affection to me. Meliantes did what he could to avert him from this design; for since he could not deliver this Letter to Mandana's own hand, because he never used to see her, he feared lest some unlucky accident should happen which might ruin this Prince, and spoil the great design which was ready almost for execution, which most apparently would set both Cyrus and Mandana at liberty, and which would ruin Thomyris and Ariantes, so as he used the utmost of his arguments and persuasions to turn his intention: but since the love of this Prince was above all these considerations, and his resentments above his love, he he would not follow the advice of Meliantes, though he knew it reasonable: so as Meliantes fearing lest he should steal out, and go unto Mandana himself, he promised to do his best to deliver his Letter unto her.  
So Cyrus calling for Pen and Paper, he writ presently unto Mandan, but he writ when he was so full of tumultuous thoughts, that his wit was never so confused as then; he never so much as stopped nor stayed to give it any method, but writ so fast, that his hand had much ado to follow his fancy; and not at all consulting with his heart, he expressed himself in all the terms that both an incensed and respective Lover could invent. After which, sealing up this Letter, he gave it unto Meliantes, who went the very same hour unto Niside, and entreated her to deliver it unto Martesia, to the end she might give it unto Mandana with all possible secrecy. Niside she gave it unto Martesia, and Martesia unto Mandana. But since Niside knew not who sent it, because Meliantes thought it not expedient that she should know how Cyrus was alive, though he knew her very discreet she could not tell Martesia, so as Martesia gave this Letter unto Mandana in the presence of Araminta: And betwixt them two all manner of Ceremonies were banished, unless upon certain occasions when their qualities would not dispense with them: So that Mandana receiving this Letter in presence of Araminta, she was extremely impatient to see whether it came from Feraulas, and whether he had heard any thing which might confirm her hopes of Cyrus being alive: so as after she had asked Araminta leave to read this Letter, she did so, not bethinking herself that she had never said any thing unto this Princess of all that Feraulas had acquainted her withal.  
On the other side, Araminta thinking this Letter could be nothing but some advertisement concerning Mandana's delivery, she desired that she might see it, in hopes that perhaps something was sent unto Mandana concerning Spitridates. So that fixing her eyes upon this Letter which Mandana hastily opened, with an earnest desire to see what was in it. It was no sooner opened, but Araminta knew it to be the hand of Cyrus: and judging at the very first that if Cyrus was living, Spitridates must be dead, and that there was a mistake in their resemblance, she gave such a dolorous and loud scriek, that the Guards which were at the other end of the Tent, did believe that some ill accident had chanced unto this Princess, so as coming to her as well as Hesionide, Doralise and Martesia, they found her so perplexed, that they knew her sorrow was excessive.  
But the worst was, Mandana knowing at the very first the hand of Cyrus as well as Araminta, she was so pleasingly surprised, and her mind was so wholly taken up, that taking no notice of Araminta, she began to read, and read on until the Guards were come up unto them: Then recollecting herself, she presently put up the Letter, yet she could not put it up so soon but the Guards saw it.  
In the mean time, Araminta seeing so many men about her, did make a sign unto them that she was not well, and that she would have them retire, which according to their respects they did: but since what they had seen had filled them full of curiosity, they observed these Princesses very closely, each of them with intentions to report what they had seen and heard, unto those upon whom they depended; for there was some of them who were more for Thomyris, than Ariantes, and some also who were more for Ariantes, than Thomyris.  
After they were gone out of the Tent, they began to listen and hearken very attentively: and to tell you truly, they might easily know that this Letter contained some matter of great importance: For as soon as ever they were retired, the sad Araminta after a deep sigh, turned towards Mandana, and holding out her hand; I beseech you Madam (said she unto her) let me see whether I must live, or die, by showing me the Letter which you received; for if my eyes have not deceived me, I must die, and there is nothing which can hinder me.  
Mandana was much unresolved what to do: for should she show her the Letter, she should as good as tell her Cyrus was living, and by consequence, that Spitridates was dead. On the other side, should she not show it unto her, she did as good as tell her the same, since considering the familiarity that used to pass between them, it was not likely Mandana should hide any thing from Araminta, unless some such thing as would afflict her. Also Mandana seeing that she knew it to be the hand of Cyrus, it was all one, as if she showed her the Letter. However, she must return an answer unto the great and unfortunate Princess, and so she did, with as much discretion as possible.  
The condition wherein I see you are (said she unto her when she asked a sight of the Letter) does move me unto so much pity, that I would do any thing to lessen your sorrows: therefore I must not put myself to the hazard of aggravating them; as perhaps I might by showing you this letter: for since I have not yet read it over, I cannot tell whether it intimate unto me that the Army of the King my Father is cut in pieces, and whether we are exposed unto perpetual Captivity: and therefore I beseech you let me read this Letter in private, before I show it unto you; and resolve with yourself if you can, to let me forbear the reading of it until it be night; for since you see the scriek you gave, did put the Guards into some suspicion, and moves them to watch us more narrowly, therefore it is discretion to forbear a while.  
Alas Madam, replied Araminta, you may as well tell me that I must die, as refuse me what I ask. For if the writing which I saw was the hand of Cyrus, that's enough: And therefore Madam, I have no more to say unto you, but that since I am not able to govern my sorrows, I will go and hide myself in my own Tent, lest I should prejudice you.  
In saying so, the sad Araminta rose up, and went into a Tent which joined unto Mandana's, whether that Princess followed her: And they were no sooner there, but Araminta giving herself over unto sorrow, her expressions would have tendered hearts that were as hard and pitiless as stones. Mandana now would have done her the same office which she received from her, when she endeavoured to comfort her, when Thomyris showed her that Tragical spectacle: But alas, Araminta's soul was not in any condition of receiving Consolation; and therefore Mandana conceived, that since her sorrow was so excessive, it was better to let her know the truth now, then leave her in a languishing suspicion of that which she must one day know: So as no longer opposing her sorrows, but condoling with her, Araminta was confirmed in the opinion which she had before, that Spitridates was dead: so as being out of all hopes, her sorrow had no bounds and her soul was so overswelled, that never thinking it might prejudice Mandana, she cried out so loud, that all those who were in the next Tent, might hear her complaints.  
Alas (said she) could I see the unfortunate Spitridates dead, and I live? Is it possible so great, and so virtuous a Prince should be so cruelly treated both by Fortune and by Thomyris? After this Araminta was silent, and her Tears did flow in such abundance, that not being able to weep, to sigh, and to complain all at once, she ceased her complaining: and during her sad silence, it was easy to see she suffered abundance of pain; and there was to be seen in her face such signs of excessive sorrow, that she would have moved the most insensible soul unto pity: her face was wholly changed, a mortal paleness was in her cheeks, her looks sad enough to draw tears from the hardest eyes; and the greatness of her grief did so appear in all her actions, that Mandana was afraid lest she should take some sad resolution in hand: For Araminta being naturally as wise, and prudent a person as any in the world, the disorder of her spirit seemed the more strange: For after she had been a while silent, she began to call to memory the things which had happened unto Spitridates, and to speak of them very earnestly: so as heaping up all the misfortunes of that Prince, she accused the King of Pontus, though dead, for the loss of Spitridates: Presently after, she would accuse Arsamones, and sometimes she would accuse herself. The truth is (did she say) I should either not have suffered the affection of this Prince, or else should have better acknowledged it; for unfortunate Araminta hadst thou been more prudent and considerate, he had not died, nor needest thou to have been put to the necessity of dying with him.  
But for all that (continued she) It is fit thou shouldst make it appear that thou art worthy the love of Spitridates, and make thy own grief enough to take away thy life, without recourse either unto sword, or poison: think upon the grandeur of his affection, of his generosity and constancy. Remember it was for thy interest that he suffered so many imprisonments, forsook so many Crowns rather than forsake thee: and for the love of thee, had exiled himself from a place where he might have been happy, hadst not thou made him miserable: Consider, that though thou didst deny him all things, yet his passion was still the same: and since thou hast been the cause of his death, courageously follow him, and the more to incite thee unto it, consider that it is a shame for thee to live. But I beseech you Madam (said Mandana unto her in a low voice) call to memory those reasons which you gave me, when we beheld the sad spectacle which Thomyris showed us. Ah Madam, cried out Araminta (not considering she should not speak of Cyrus so loud) I must needs reject your Council as you rejected mine, and I beseech you pardon me, if I grieve at the life of Cyrus, since such is the will of Fate, I cannot hear of his being alive, but I must at the same time hear of Spitridates being dead: I beseech you Madam (said Mandana) speak as little of that Prince as you can, lest you should discover his being alive unto some who may do him hurt; for you know that there are many eyes and ears over us, and they may hear what you say unto the next Tent. I beseech you Madam pardon me, said the sad Araminta) if I have said any thing which I should not: For alas I cannot govern my grief, but I must needs complain myself to death, and yet I think I cannot complain long: For after all these misfortunes which are fallen upon my family; after the loss of the King my Brother; and after I have seen Spitridates dead, I should deserve these misfortunes, if I did endure them.  
After this, Mandana gave a thousand tender, obliging, and discreet expressions unto Araminta, and that miserable Princess did answer her so sorrowfully, that she took away from Mandana much of her joy to see that Cyrus was living. But at last, Mandana conceiving Hesionide to be the most fit to give any comfort unto Araminta: and thinking it not good to make the Guards over curious, she came into the Tent again, she left her, and went into her own Tent again: But as soon as she was there, she could not choose but read the Letter which Cyrus writ: yet she was as careful as possible, lest the Guards who stood at the entrance into her Tent, should see her read it: And to that end she desired Doralise and Martesia to stand before her whilst she read these words.  
MADAM,  
SInce my death hath been very indifferent unto you, I doubt not but my life will be so also: and I am confident you will be as backward in your joys, that I am living, as you were forward in comforting yourself after you thought me dead. I must ingenuously confess unto you, that it is more to be revenged upon your infidelity then for any other reason that I acquaint you, Cyrus is not dead as you believed. The truth is, his life is no happiness unto him. For having seen you smile that day you changed your Tent, Death will be much more sweet unto him, than a life in which he lives not in your heart. For Madam, one is not so soon comforted after the loss of a person whom one loved: and the little thought which you had of my death makes me so sensible and sad, that doubtless I shall ere long give you an occasion to rejoice the second time at my Ruin: Yet I will do what I can to live, that I may hinder my Rival from triumphing over my misfortune, and thriving by your inconstancy; and doubtless I shall do all this by rendering you into the hands of the King your Father. When this is done, Madam, my only business is to die; for I have no reason to believe, that a man whose death is so indifferent unto you, can ever give you any satisfaction. Yet I will keep my respect & my Love unto the last of my days, and I will be revenged of your ingratitude only upon my Rival, and your Enemies. These Madam are the resolutions of the revived Cyrus, who I think did merit to be longer lamented by her, of whom he ever had such tender thoughts, and to whom (as unjust and perfidious as she is) he always paid the whole devotion of his heart.  
CYRUS.  
The reading of this Letter did so much surprise Mandana, that she called for Doralisa and Martesia to show it unto them: and they obeying her, they did not so well hide the Letter, but the Guards did see it; and thinking it to be the same which caused Araminta to cry out, some of them went to acquaint Thomyris, and others to acquaint Ariantes with it, not doubting but that there was something of extraordinary consequence in it.  
Moreover, since there was some who confusedly overheard the complaints of Araminta, wherein the name of Cyrus was brought in, they added this which they heard unto that which they had seen. Thus were Thomyris and Ariantes both at one time acquainted, that Mandana some way, or other had received Letters which were in all likelihood of great importance: For the Guards neglected not the least circumstance, but told them of the great scriek which Araminta gave at the sight of it: The excessive sorrow wherein she was: her complaints after she was in her Tent, the name of Cyrus pronounced, and the earnestness wherewith Mandana read this Letter after she was returned into her own Tent: So as making no question, but there was some business of consequence in this Letter, they began to consider upon the business.  
The Queen presently after sent for her brother; he came, and they began to consult what might be the cause of Araminta's sorrow. At the first Thomyris came near the truth, for she thought this Letter imported that Spitridates was dead. But Ariantes considering that Mandana was of late less sad than ordinary, he told it unto Thomyris, though he could not devise why Araminta should thus redouble her sorrows: Yet knowing that there was a resemblance between Cyrus and Spitridates, a thought came into his head which strangely troubled his heart: Yet since he knew not that Cyrus had given Spitridates that rich suit of Arms, which this Prince wore, and which made him to be taken for Cyrus; he was more quiet.  
As for Thomyris, since she only sought for a pretence to persecute Mandana, she told Ariantes, that absolutely she would see that Letter which that Princess had received, and would know the cause of Aramintas sorrows, and whether that would give any light unto the rest, saying that she would go immediately unto the Princess under colour of a civil visit: And Ariantes concurring with her opinion, Thomyris did go unto Aramintas Tent, that Prince waiting upon her; where they found Mandana was returned, and where Arpasia was come also upon reports of her sorrow.  
In the mean time, this sudden coming of Thomyris and Ariantes did so surprise Mandana, as was easy for them to imagine that there was some considerable thing in the wind.  
On the other side Araminta, whose mind was all upon Spitridates, whose head Thomyris had plunged so in blood, she no sooner saw this Queen, but the fancy of this fearful object coming into her mind, her grief was so great, that never thinking upon either Cyrus, or Mandana, she was not Mistress of her first thoughts: but giving a great scriek, she turned away her head from the sight of a Queen who was so full of cruelty: So as Thomyris who ever found Araminta very civil, and discreet in all her actions and words, she was extremely surprised at her behaviour. Yet drawing near the Bed on which she lay, and beginning to speak; Madam (said Thomyris unto her) you receive my civilities in so strange a manner, as I cannot choose but ask the reason of it? Since I do not value life (replied Araminta in a violent manner) I have nothing to care for: and therefore Madam I will not tell you neither what afflicts me, nor what makes my sorrows swell at the sight of you, nor why I resolve to die: But to acknowledge your Civilities, I will tell you, that if you do not give over your thirst after illustrious blood, nor deliver the Princess Mandana whom you detain by a most unjust and cruel War, you will make your selfe the object of men's hatred, and the God's revenge. More than this Madam, expect not from the miserable Araminta: Let her alone with the sorrows of her soul without further diving into the cause of them, and let her expect that death which she desires, as the only thing that can give her any comfort.  
Araminta having spoken these words, was silent, and was so drowned in sorrows, that though she had desired to speak more, yet her tears and sighs did so stifle her, that it was impossible.  
In the mean time, Thomyris, who was not used to such entertainment, blushed for anger: And turning towards Mandana, after she had looked upon Ariantes: It is you Madam (said she unto her) that must acquaint me with the cause of this Princess sorrows; for I know that you received the Letter which brought her the news which afflicts her: Therefore Madam, never offer to deny a thing which I do most certainly know, but show this Letter unto me, for I will see it, since I have power enough to make myself be obeyed.  
Mandana hearing Thomyris say so, was in a strange perplexity, for she knew very well the danger that there was in showing this Letter unto Thomyris, or in telling her that Cyrus was living, and in the Tents Royal: So as in this urgent necessity of an answer, she would endeavour to to try if she could take this Letter out of her pocket, and beginning to answer: As for the Letter you speak of (replied Mandana) I cannot show it unto you, because I gave it back unto the man of the Guard who brought it unto me; but lest we should aggravate the sorrows of the Queen of Pontus, if it will please your Majesty to go into my Tent, I will acquaint you with the cause of them.  
Since Mandana spoke this with a confident and pleasant look, Thomyris believed that she spoke sincerely: And Ariantes desiring to keep Thomyris from doing any thing which might distaste that Princess, he desired her to do so. So as the Queen of the Massagettans, passed from the Tent of the sad Araminta, unto that of Mandana's.  
But in passing from one Tent unto another, Mandana, who followed Thomyris, and who observed that Doralisa and Martesia were at the door of the Tent, she hastily took the Letter out of her pocket to give it unto one of them. But as she took it out with much haste, and would have given it either unto Doralisa or unto Martesia, these two, not knowing unto which of them she would give it, because she made no sign to signify her intention, they both advanced to her at once: So that Mandana parting from the Letter a little too hastily and soon, in Lien of leaving it in the hands either of Doralisa or Martesia, it fell down; and fell so unluckily, that when these two Ladies stooped hastily to take it up, Thomyris turning her head to see whether Mandana followed, she saw it in the hands of Martesia, and ●ei●ed upon it immediately.  
As soon as Mandana saw this Letter in the hands of Thomyris, Oh Heavens! how vexed she was? but there being no remidy, she resolved to take this cross adventure patiently, and pray to the Gods that this accident might not bring Cyrus under the power of Thomyris, so as she did strive to reassume her confidence of spirit, and to follow that Queen into her Tent; where she was no sooner come but seeing Thomyris ready to open the Letter, and by consequence to know the hand of Cyrus, (as well as Ariantes, who had often seen his hand) she began to speak with much Courage, Magnanimity, Prudence, and Discretion. I cannot tell Madam, (said she unto her) what thoughts you will have when you understand that Cyrus is not dead; but before you do understand it by this Letter which is written unto me. I do protest before all the Gods, that you shall never know by me, from whom I received it. How (said Thomyris, and hasted to open the Letter) is not Cyrus dead? It is possible (said Ariantes) that Cyrus should be living? if so Madam, is it many days since you knew it: And that consolation which I hoped for, in Lieu of rejoicing me must afflict me.  
Whilst he was speaking thus, Thomyris was reading the Letter which Cyrus, writ unto Mandana, and she read it with such tumultuous and opposite thoughts that it was a great difficulty to reconcile them; for it filled her mind full of wonder, Joy, Anger, Sorrow, and Jealousy. So as being less able to endure the sight of Mandana, when she knew that Cyrus was alive then when he thought him dead, she shut up the Letter before she had read it out, and turning towards Mandana, though you are resolved Madam (said she unto her) not to tell who brought you this Letter, yet I shall find out away to make you confess it: You may easily find out many ways to persecute me Madam (replied Mandana) and to make me die; but you can never find out any way to make me con es▪ any thing that may prejudice Cyrus: And you shall never see me do any thing (replied Thomyris in a great rage) that shall please Mandana.  
Afterwards, this Queen told Ariantes, that he must double the Guards upon this Princess, and upon all the rest of the Ladies: Also to let no communication be between them: And accordingly this order being observed the very same hour they parted all the Princesses, for Araminta remained alone with Hesionide inin her Tent: Mandana in hers with Doralise and Martesia, and all the test with their own women. So as by this means, it was impossible for Niside, unto whom Meliantes had delivered the Letter of Cyrus, to send back unto him, and to advertise him of this great disorder, of which he was ignorant, because he was then verybusie in a secrec conference between him, and the Sauromattan▪ Captains, with whom Mereontes, and he had treated.  
In the mean time, Thomyris and Ariantes were no so sooner parted from their Tents, but they opened this Letter, and read it with strange agitation of spirit, though with different resentments. For Thomyris out of some resentments of Love, was very glad that Cyrus was not dead, and that he complained against Mandana, though otherwise she would have been very sorry for the resurrection of such an Enemy, and that he should be so tender towards her Rival. But for Ariantes, though his generosity had moved him to compassionate his Rivals death, yet he was extremely sorry to hear he was living, and all the complaints he made against Mandana, did not comfort him.  
However, both Thomyris and Ariantes finding by this Letter, that Cyrus was alive, and that he either was, or had been in the Tents Royal, since he told Mandana that he saw her smile, that day she changed her Tent, they endeavoured to secure his person: but the great difficulty was, how to know where this great Prince was.  
The truth is, fortune favoured their design, for as they were thus consulting three prisoners were brought in which Agathyrsis had taken and sent unto Thomyris: The one of them was the Prince Atergatis disguised in a Massagettan habit. The second was Intaphernes, and the third Feraulas, who had a Letter about him from Gabrias unto Meliantes. So as now not doubting but that Meleantes knew where Cyrus was, Thomyris commanded the Captain of her Guard to go that very hour and arrest him, and to search his Tent very well to see if they could find Cyrus; for the Letter from Gabrias, gave some suspicion of such a thing: But she gave strict Commands, that whatsoever he did to bring him alive, and if he did resist, yet none to kill him.  
After which, she commanded that Intaphernes and Atergatis should be strictly guarded; as for Feraulas, she would see him, and examine him what he knew concerning his Master: And the sooner to induce him unto a confession she spoke unto him at first with all imaginable sweetness: Afterwards she threatened him, and at last did speak unto him in so much fury, that Feraulas was extremely afraid lest Cyrus should fall into the hands of a Princess, whose passions were so violent. But whilst Thomyris employed all her unprofitable menaces upon Feraulas to make him discover where his Master was, and whilst Ariantes by order of Thomyris was gone to set double Guards about the Tents Royal, that none might go out, or in without express permission from the Queen; Cyrus and Meliantes were not without their shares of trouble; for though Niside could not advertise Meliantes of all passages, and though Meliantes had been so busy that he saw none that could inform him, yet one of his Domestiques telling him that Thomyris and Ariosto- had been in Mandana's Tent, and that Orders were given for a strict guard upon that Princess, he feared (and with reason) that the Letter which Cyrus w●it was discovered, and that it was known he was living; so as not conceiving it fit to conceal his fears from that Prince, he told him all his thoughts to the end he might prepare himself for going out of the Tents Royal the night following, or at least to change his Tent, and to go into the Tent of one of those Sauromattan Captains who were of their intelligence. But since it must be night before this could be done, they had not time enough for it, for as they were in consultation what to do, the Captain of the Guard came with fifty followers, so that since they could not defend themselves in a Tent as in houses, all that Meliantes could do was to go towards the Captain of the Guard, who asked for him from Thomyris, assuring Cyrus that the would sooner die than discover him, and hoping that the Captain of the Guard would be contented with arresting him, but it was otherwise: For in Lieu of being contented with Meliantes, they would enter into the Tent from whence he came. Meliantes seeing this, he got between the door of the Tent and the Captain of the Guard, and drawing his sword, and stopped him purposely to give Cyrus so much time as to get out at another door of she Tent, and get into the Tent of that Sauromattan Captain, of which they had spoken: For as luck was, Cyrus was disguised in a Massagettan habit ever since he came to Meliantes could hope for no more, then to gain so much time, as till Cyrus got out. But as that Prince would have done so, he found that the Captain of the guard had beset the Tent round about; and it chanced so, that the Prince Ariantes passed accidentally that way as Cyrus was going out. So as seeing an impossibility any way to escape, he chose that place to get out at, where happily he might kill his Rival before he was killed himself; for being in the mind he was, and considering what minds Thomyris and Mandana were in, he had much rather die, than be a Prisoner unto that Queen, or his Rival: so as this being his resolution, he drew his sword; and calling Meliantes unto him, that they might fight both together, he went out of the Tent, accompanied with that generous Assyrian, and four or five of his men; and so sharply fell upon Ariantes, that though the Captain of the guard had beset the Tent round, yet those who were on that side where Cyrus went out, could not hinder him from having a blow at that Prince, after he had several times called him ungrateful Anaxaris, perfidious Anaxaris. Ariantes being on horseback and Cyrus on foot, the blow which he made at that Prince did not hit as it was intended, for the Horse of that Prince being curvetting as the blow was made, it was the Horse which received his blow in the flank, and who not being able to endure the fury of the stroke, did violently bound, and broke the sword of Cyrus. Meliantes seeing this, out of his heroic generosity, he gave his unto this illustrious Hero, and took another from one of those who followed: After which Ariantes having time to know him to be his Rival, he went towards him, with intention to end all the differences by his death; but his horse being much wounded, he fell, and his Rider also fell under him, who perhaps saved the life of his Master by his own death For in this Interim, the Captain of the Guard with all his companions came out of the Tent, and so surrounded both Cyrus, and his brave Assyrian, that they hindered them from falling upon Ariantes.  
In the mean time, since Cyrus would not render himself, and since the Captain of the Guard would not let him be killed, because Thomyris had expressly commanded to bring him alive, Cyrus seconded by Meliantes, killed so great a number of them, that when Ariantes was does engaged from under his horse, he did not think it fit to insist upon such strict orders from Thomyris; so as thrusting in among those who would have taken Cyrus, he fell upon him with much vigour; Cyrus warded the bl●w which he made at him, and returned another so sharply that he was forced to step back. But whilst things were in this condition, and whilst Cyrus and Meliantes could hardly avoid death; considering the number of their assaulters, and their resolution not to be taken; Thomyris, whose impatiency and inquietude brought her out of her Tent▪ appeared on horse back: So as seeing this combat, and hearing the cause, she advanced into the midst of the tumult, forbidding her men from kill Cyrus, and commanding Cyrus to render himself: But Ariantes being strangely incensed against the obstinate resistance of this Prince, valued not the command which Thomyris gave; but fell again upon his Riyall who had laid the captain of the Guard dead at his feet: But when Thomyris saw this, and observed that Cyrus did not see Ariantes: She cried out, take heed of yourself Cyrus, and guard the blow which one of my rebellious Subjects is making at you.  
At these words, Cyrus who knew well the voice of Thomyris, turned himself about, and saw that Ariantes was making a most furious blow at him, so as he warded the blow: But in the mean time, three or four of those who came with the Queen, fell upon him and laid hold of his Arm, and hindering him from continuing his combat with Ariantes, they presented him unto Thomyris, who was more joyed to see Cyrus in her power, then if she had won a hundred battles, and conquered as many Kingdoms.  
In the mean while, Meliantes seeing Cyrus taken, he fell upon Ariantes, who being vexed to the heart that he had not vanquished his Rival, he made a Pass upon the Assyrian: These two, then like two who would have either death or victory, maintained a fight most courageously: Thomyris seeing it, and being extremely angry against the Prince her Brother for disobeying her, and for perpetually opposing of her when she offered to persecute Mandana; she commanded them both to be seized upon, and that both the Prince her Brother, Cyrus, and Meliantes should be carefully guarded: so as since it was an easy matter to take two men who were striving one against the other, they were both of them easily arrested: Yet there were some who were friends unto Ariantes, that would have made some stir, but the presence of Thomyris hindered them.  
In the mean time, this Queen not knowing well what thoughts to have of Cyrus, she would not speak unto him, but commanded he should be carried into one of her Tents, and so strongly guarded as that there might be no fear of his escape. As for Meliantes, he and Intaphernes and Atergatis were put together, that one Guard might serve them all. So that when Mereontes, Myrsiles, Chrisantes, and Hydaspes returned unto the Tents Royal disguised like Massagettans, they found Cyrus a Prisoner, that Meliantes was the like: That Ariantes was arrested: that Intaphernes, Atergatis, and Feraulas were taken, and that Mandana was more strictly guarded than ever: That Thomyris since the imprisonmet of her Brother had changed the Guards of that Princess: and indeed they knew not how all this sudden alteration came about: So that to have a little time of consideration what to do, they went & concealed themselves in a Tent of one of those Sauromattan Captains with whom Mereontes had treated.  
In the mean time, the report of Cyrus being alive did make so great a noise, that the imprisonment of Ariantes did not make a greater. For nothing almost was talked of but Cyrus, and it was so much the talk of every one, that Mandana heard of it by her Guards. The Princess of Bythinia also understood from hers, that Intaphernes was arrested: Istrina heard that Atergatis had the same Destiny: And Arpasia was not ignorant that Meliantes was a prisoner. So as then looking upon him as more miserable than Hydaspes, the tenderness of her heart augmented towards him, and she was sorry to think that she was the cause of such an excellent man's misfortune, who had killed two, which had rendered her most miserable if they had lived: Martesia also for her particular heard that Feraulas was in the hands of Thomyris: and Fate had so disposed of things, that nothing but sorrow and despair was on all sides.  
When this News was heard in the Army of Cyrus, there was an Universal murmur: And when it was known in the Army of Thomyris, all those of any reason did apprehend that she would by her violences against Cyrus, against Mandana, and against the Prince her Brother, force her own Subjects to arm themselves against her, and join with her Enemies.  
In the mean time, the great Design which was just ripe, was now not fit to be executed: For this change had made an alteration in their measures; and this great Revolution did so blast the spirits of every one, as that they talked of nothing but what had happened, and what was like to happen. But if persons indifferent were thus perplexed, what is to be thought of persons interested, and amongst them, the Princess Mandana: For after the sight of that cruel action of Thomyris, when she thought Cyrus was dead, might she not well fear the same now while he was living, and in the power of this incensed Queen? The most pleasing thought she had, was in hopes to see Cyrus' unfaithful; for (said she unto Doralisa and Martesia) since Cyrus is discontented at me, and seems by his Letter to believe that I was not grieved at his death, is it not likely that he will not think himself obliged to be faithful unto one whom he thinks perfidious? and so ceasing his scorn of Thomyris, he may perhaps begin to hate me? But alas (added she) this is the greatest advantage I can expect unto myself, if he should do so; for if this unfortunate Prince say true, he loves me still as perfidious as he thinks me: So as if he continue obstinate still against the cruel Thomyris, perhaps she will cause him to be stabbed in my presence: so as I am in such a condition, as I must inevitably either see Cyrus' unfaithful, or die: Oh most cruel necessity (cried she out) oh rigorous Fate! unto what miseries have you reserved me, and what strange Torments have you prepared for me? But oh ye most just gods! never let Cyrus accuse me of any inconstancy or ingratitude: Clear up his spirits I beseech you; open his eyes, and let him see that he wrongs the most faithful person in the world by suspecting her of any infidelity. But alas (said she, and reprehended herself) in wishing that Cyrus should know the constancy of my affection, perhaps I wish his death, and make prayers against his life, since the more he believes me faithful, the more he will incense the cruel Thomyris. Madam (said Doralisa unto her) there hath happened such wonderful alterations in your life, that me thinks you should not despair of any thing: For Cyrus was thought to be dead in the Bythinian War; He thought you ready to perish in the Conflagration of Sinope; he believed you drowned when he found Mazares ready to expire; Mazares himself thought so a long time; Cyrus was believed so over all Asia, and you yourself thought you saw him dead with your own eyes.  
'Tis true Doralisa (replied Mandana) that all these so fell out: But it is a much greater difficulty to imagine how I should come happily out of this miserable condition wherein I am: For Cyrus is in the power of a most cruel person, who seemed to rejoice at his death, who locked upon that bloody head of Spitridates which she thought was his, with much delight: and whose soul is inspired with such a violent and furious passion as is ready to prompt her unto any thing.  
For my part Madam (replied Martesia) I cannot imagine that Thomyris will be so cruel unto Cyrus' living, as she was to Cyrus' dead: For when she thought he had lost his life, perhaps a secret sorrow for his death caused all her rage: and thinking him dead in thoughts of scorn unto her, she was cruel unto him after his death, but I cannot believe she will be so inhuman unto him living; for hopes both flattering and sweetening her spirit, it will allay her cruelty: Also (added Doralisa) when I consider how you got out of the power of the King of Assyria, of Mazares, and of the King of Pontus, you have reason to hope that both Cyrus and you will get out of the power of Thomyris: Alas Doralisa (said Mandana) Cyrus' cannot be his own deliverer, as he might have been mine? And though the Prince Mazares should be as happy as he is brave, and though he should have more generosity than love, yet I have no grounds for any hope, because I believe that if he attempt any thing, the life of Cyrus will be the more in danger, since Thomyris had rather see him die then delivered. Also it grieves me that his Rival is a prisoner as well as he: For he being obliged unto him, being generous, and having some power over his own spirit, I might hope if he were at liberty, that he would prevent all sad consequences of Thomyris her passion: But alas! it hath pleased the Gods to deprive me of all relief, and to take all hopes from me.  
As Mandana was talking in this sad manner, Hesionide all in tears came, and beseeched this Princess to go into Araminta's Tent: For though Thomyris had commanded that all the captive Ladies should be severed, yet Araminta was not, by reason of her excessive sorrows.  
As much grieved as Mandana was for her own interests, yet she would not deny assistance unto a Princess whom she so much esteemed; but went into he● Tent, and found her in a most lamentable condition, for she would never eat any thing since she knew of Spitridates his death: She was grown so weak, and yet had such a violent Fever, that it was easy to see that her grief would soon ease her of all her pains: Yet her reason was very perfect; and though her voice was very faint, yet she could express herself most sensibly unto Mandana: I beg your pardon Madam (said she unto her) for augmenting your sorrows by a sight of mine; yet since I have but a few minutes to live, I hoped that you would give me leave to make one request unto you. Alas Madam (replied Mandana) My condition is so deplorable, that there is nothing in my power but to lament your misfortunes, and weep with you: Yet I assure you Madam, that there is nothing but things impossible which I would not do for you. My request is (replied the miserable Araminta) that by the power you have with Ariantes, you will obtain from him that Spitridates and I may have but one Tomb: That you will let the illustrious Cyrus know I leave him all the right which I have unto the Kingdom of Pontus: And that I conjure him to keep in memory that unfortunate Prince who had the glory to resemble him, and die in his service. But above all Madam, I beseech you, so contrive it, that Death may unite what the cruelty of Fate hath severed, and that Spitridates and Araminta may have but one Grave. I hope Madam (replied Mandana) that you will not stand in need of my help, and that you will live to erect a Monument unto that Illustrious Prince, for whom you grieve. But if you do not, alas Madam I shall not be able to do that Office which you desire: For the Prince Ariantes is arrested by orders from Thomyris: The miserable Cyrus is in Fetters, and I am in as great a desire of death as you are. Do thy worst, Fortune, do thy worst (replied Araminta weakly) and after thou hast taken two Kingdoms from me, deny me a Grave, and deprive me of the only satisfaction which I had left, which was my hope that the Prince whom Spitridates resembled, might be happy. As for you Madam (added she, holding Mandana by the hand) I have nothing to say unto you, since you have occasions enough for your own Tears, and your afflictious deserves them. After this, Aransinta was silent, and turned to the other side: And about two hours after she fell into such a profound Lethargy, that she never recovered out of it, but only to pronowce the name of the miserable Spitridates, and died patiently. Such a sad augmentation of sorrow as this, filled the imagination of Mandana with all the horrors of death: Yet that of Araminta was most worthy of life, and of that passion which possessed her soul: For during that quarter of an hour which she recovered, she was full of high expressions: She told Mandana that she did not stand in need of all her patience & constancy to suffer the loss of two Kingdoms, to suffer Exile and imprisonment: but she stood in need of more than all she had, to endure the death of Spitridates. She spoke most obligingly of the Bythinian Princelle: She recommended Hesionide unto her: She beseeched the Gods to pardon her weaknesses and excess of sorrows: Also she prayed them to unite her spirit unto the spirit of Spitridates. After which, she died quietly without any struggling, or loss of that beauty which rendered her the most charming Princess upon Earth, though that was the lowest of those rare qualities which made her admired.  
In the mean time, Mandana endeavoured to do her that office which she desired, and entreated the Physician of Thomyris who see her die, to be a mediator unto this Queen, that Aramintas Tomb and Spitridates his might be all one: And this man being much moved with compassion, he obtained of Thomyris what Araminta desired. Thus Death united what Fortune had separated, and these two illustrious persons who could not sit upon one Throne, did lie both in one grave. But all this while Ariantes was in most incredible torment, in fears lest Thomyris should take any violent course against Mandana: and his fears of it were such, that he almost wished her in the power of Cyrus, rather than of Thomyris.  
On the other side; Myrsiles was extremely grieved at his Arrest, and that he was not able to do any service unto Mandana, Cyrus, or Doralisa. Intaphernes and Atergatis were as much grieved as he, but Feraulas was incomparably most of all dejected. Meliantes also was vexed that Hidaspes was not a Prisoner, as well as some of those who came upon the same design. The Princess of Bythinia grieved for the death of her brother for Araminta & for the imprisonment of her Lover. Istrina also was sadly concerned in the affliction of that Princess, & in the misfortune of Atergatis: And Arpasia was very sad, because Meliantes was a prisoner, and because she knew not where Hydaspes was. But put all the miseries of all these persons together, they were all incomparable to that of Cyrus: For when it came into his thoughts, that his Rival was a prisoner, because he should not defend the life of Mandana against the fury of Thomyris, his grief was beyond all expression: which way soever he turned his thoughts, he could find no consolation. For if he considered Thomyris as his Enemy, he could not endure his fetters: If he thought upon her as his Lover, she was more odious unto him: If he remembered all his victories, he remembered them with sorrow, since his Fate was changed: I● he called to memory the cruelty of Thomyris unto the dea● Spitridates, when she took him for himself, he prepared himself to die in the same cruel manner: And if he thought upon Mandana, he thought upon her with unimaginable sorrow, since he thought upon her to be unfaithful, or at least too little sensible of his death, and too soon comforted at it. And yet this sad thought did not lessen his tenderness, nor his affection; but by a most cruel and ingenuous device of Fate, he was all at once both full of anger, tenderness, jealousy, pity, love and fury: For sometimes he would complain against Mandana, and sometimes he would complain against himself in lieu of her. Presently after, he would curse Ariantes, and instantly after that, he would wish him at liberty: Then would he make imprecations against Thomyris, and sometimes against himself, charging himself with all the miseries of Mandana, with all his own, with all the violences of Thomyris, and also with all the affection which his Rivals bore unto the Princess whom he adored: so as passing continually from one sad thought unto another, he was in perpetual torment: But the sharpest part of all his miseries was, his opinion that Mandana did love him, or at least did not love him enough. The cruelty of Thomyris did not so much grate upon his soul, as the want of affection in Mandana did; for he was accustomed to see Death in his grimmest look, but he was never used to see Mandana perfidious, or indifferent. Also he had one addition of sorrow more, when he heard of Araminta's death by one of his Guards, and he set that upon the score of his own misfortunes, and began to number them all up. Is it not enough, oh cruel Fate (cried he out) that I should be miserable in my own person? but I must also be so in the persons of those whom I love? Must Spitridates die because he resembled me, and was my friend? Must Araminta lose her life, because I professed friendship to her? Must Meliantes be imprisoned because he protected me▪ Must I be miserable because Thomyris loves me? and also because Mandana loves me not? Fortune makes use of all this variety to torment me, and yet I could support them all, were I assured of the affection of my Princess: But alas I am far from that happy condition; for since she can soon comfort herself after my death, it must needs be concluded that she values not my life, and therefore why should I, unless against all reason, in hopes of revenge; I had indeed some hopes that the Oracle had been fulfilled in Spitridates: but Heavens! I fear it is not, since I am under the power of a loving, and yet of an enraged Queen: Mandana is under the power of a proud Rival, and I am out of Mandana's heart; and therefore I were absolutely out of my wits, if I should hope for any rest, but in Death, yet thanks he unto the Gods, I am not capable of such a weakness.  
But whilst Cyrus was reasoning with himself in this sad manner, Thomyris was so full of unquiet distempers, as she was not half a quarter of an hour in one mind. Gelonide knowing the very bottom of her heart, she discovered all the tumultuous thoughts of her soul unto her. I perceive Gelonide (said she unto her, seeing her look earnestly upon her) that you desire to dive into my thoughts, but let me tell you, it is very difficult, for they wander upon so many several subjects, as they continually smother one another: and such is the agitation of my soul, that it would suffer much less if I were in the condition of Cyrus: And yet (replied Gelonide) that Prince is in a very ill condition; and I believe that if your Majesty consider it well, you will find a great difference between your fortune and his. Were I at peace with myself Gelonide (replied Thomyris) you were in the right: but alas, there is such a Civil war in my heart, that shivers it into pieces; For when I think how this Prince slighted me both under the name of Artamenes and Cyrus, I cannot choose but hate him: And I am resolved to put Mandana to death, to let him see her dead, and then to put him to death also: For if I consider him upon that account, I cannot think upon any punishment which he deserve not, he has scorned me enough to merit a thousand deaths; he hath blasted my glory, he hath made the blood of my Subjects run like Rivers, and he hath caused my son's death. So as looking upon him upon this account, and having him in my power, I am often in a mind to taste the sweets of a full revenge.  
But alas, these thoughts last but a while: and when I consider Cyrus as the greatest Prince upon Earth, and as the most excellently accomplished man in the whole world, my revenge dies, and I am ready to excuse him. Yes Gelonide, sometimes I tell myself that he loved Mandana before ere he saw me; that he does no wrong unto me in not loving me, and that I am obliged unto him for sparing my life, when he might easily have killed me in the Sauromattan wood: But after all these Considerations, my soul is never the quietter; for the less reason I find to accuse Cyrus, the more I find to accuse myself: But Gelonide, my greatest grief is, that Cyrus doth most horridly hate me, especially since the time that the violence of my Love and Jealousy did prompt me unto that act of cruelty, which vet I only did, because he had been cruel unto me. But as oft as I think upon Cyrus, unto whom I have expressed a thousand testimonies of Love, and that he should know of this terrible effect of my hatred, I am vexed beyond my expression: For the truth is, I have a desire to see him, and yet I dare not, after this act of cruelty whereof he is not ignorant. 'Tis true, that if he do me justice, he will excuse my cruelty, and Cyrus living doubtless aught to think himself obliged unto me, for what I did against Cyrus' dead, since my inhumanity was as well aneffect of my Love, as all those testimonies of tenderness which I gave him upon a thousand occasions. Truly Madam (said Gelonide unto her) since Cyrus can never be unfaithful unto Mandana, as long as you give him so many causes to hate you: It is not probable he should love you now, he may charge you with more hatred than love: And therefore your Majesty would do very well to re-establish your glory by some great and high action, such an Act as would regain the esteem of Cyrus. If you should now set Cyrus and Mandana free, and send them to the King of Medes, you would do an Act which would render your glory immortal. Ah Gelonide (said Thomyris and interrupted her) I know very well that I ought to love my glory above Cyrus: But I have found by long experience that I cannot, and therefore without any consideration of generosity, or reason, or virtue, I must take such a course as Cyrus may Reign in my Dominions, and in my heart: And when all hopes of that is gone, then shall my fury have no limits: and if I cannot ruin Cyrus and Mandana, unless I ruin Ariantes and myself also, I will not stick to sacrifice all unto my revenge.  
But Madam (said Gelonide) I beseech you consider, that though you have Cyrus in your power, yet you have a formidable Army to fight against: Mazares is a brave man, the Relief which Ciaxares sends, is puissant, and the Prince Ariantes is not in the head of your Army. I value not my own safety (replied Thomyris) and therefore Gelonide without any further consideration of these dangers wherewith you threaten me, which perhaps are not so great as you imagine, I will think upon nothing but to get so much boldness as to see Cyrus. But Madam (said Gelonide unto her) I would gladly know what you do aim at in so doing? I intent (replied Thomyris) to do all things possible both just and unjust, which may induce Cyrus to quit Mandana; and answer my affection: and if I find there is no hopes of any good upon him, I will punish Ariantes for his old Rebellion, to the end that he may be no obstacle unto my Revenge: Then I will have Mandana stabbed before the eyes of Cyrus: I will mingle the blood of Cyrus and Mandana together, and perhaps I will kill myself, if I find this revenge not sweet enough. Alas Madam (cried out Gelonide) what strange thoughts are these? Alas Gelonide (replied Thomyris) what strange thoughts may not a Queen have, who loves a man which slights her.  
After this, Gelonide offered to say something, but Thomyris commanded silence, and without more delay she went unto the Tent of Cyrus, waited upon by the Lieutenant of her Guard, and some of his company which stayed at the Tent door, and kept Centinel with the rest of that Prince's Guard: This Queen having no other women with her but Gelonide; for though she did not approve of her opinion, yet she loved her, and always carried her with her, because she was the only person unto whom she discovered her love. But in her way thither, Thomyris as fierce as she was her heart was strangely ashamed, yet the force of her passion overcoming all; She entered into the Tent of Cyrus, without giving him any notice, so as he was strangely surprised at this visit: Yet having a great soul, a resolute spirit, and a generous heart, there appeared no disorder in his Countenance, but he shut up all his resentments in his heart: And indeed, he no sooner saw Thomyris, but he saluted her with all reverence that was due unto the Queen of Massagettes, and it was with all the coldness that was due unto the Enemy of Mandana, and a Queen that had given him such a public testimony of her hatred, as to plunge that head in a basin of blood.  
As for Thomyris, she no sooner saw Cyrus, but shame at her own inhumanity made her blush, and hindered her from speaking first: So as that Prince coming towards her, is it to demand my head Madam (said he unto her with a most heroic boldness) that you have taken this pains to come hither? to the end that seeing it cut off with your own eyes, you may not be deceived the second time as you were at the first? When I resolved to see you Sir (replied she, and carried him to the other end of the Tent) I prepared myself for your reproaches, that I might have some right to retort them: For unjust Prince, there is a notable difference betwixt the cruelty which I have used unto you, and that which you have used unto me. For that terrible Act which seems unto you so full of inhumanity, was only a rapture of my despair, in a belief that your last words were signs of love unto Mandana, and of your hatred unto me. But though I was inhuman unto you, when I thought you could not be sensible of my cruelty; yet you were inhuman and cruel unto me, when I was sensible even of the least of your slights: and though I only plunged in blood the head of Cyrus supposed dead, yet you tear my heart in pieces living, yet unjust Prince, you were the first that began the cruelty: and if I was so, it was after you had made me lose my patience, and disordered my reason. Yet though you are my prisoner, and by the right of Conquerors I may dispose of you as I please, yet I will only tell you, the sooner to induce you to quit Mandana: That unless I comfort myself so soon after your death as she did, she hath wronged you more than I have done by that act of cruelty, wherewith you upbraid me, and wherewith I upbraid myself: For truly my fury and my hatred was an effect of my passion, but her forgetfulness was an effect of a light soul, and faint feeble affection.  
Therefore without ask, or beseeching you to love me, I will only beseech you not to love her any longer: That you will give your consent she should marry Ariantes whom she hates not: that I may send her unto Issedon with the Prince whom she shall marry. And that you will promise me never to see her again, upon these conditions, I will deliver you, and will not oblige you unto any acknowledgement of my affection. If you should peremptorily command me to love you, Madam, replied he, though you have given me reason to hate you; yet it would be less impossible for me to obey you, than it would be for me not to love Mandana, though she were perfidious unto me: For the truth is Madam, you are a great Beauty, you have a great soul, a high heart, and a thousand excellent qualities, which as great an Enemy as you are, does move me to esteem you: So that without infidelity to her whom I love and adore, I could be very friendly and esteeming of you: But Madam, I can never leave loving Mandana, nor consent she should marry Ariantes, nor promise you never to see her again.  
The truth is; though I should know of a most infallible certainty that she had left off loving me, yet I could never leave off loving her, without leaving off to live, nor endure she should be enjoyed by another, without doing my utmost to prevent it, at the hazard of a thousand lives which I should never value above my glory, or my Love: And therefore Madam, never expect I should promise you more than I am able to perform: For I know, that though I should be so base as to make such a promise unto you, yet I should be no sooner at liberty, but I should Arm all Asia the second time to pull Mandana out of the arms of my Rival.  
Therefore Madam, I beseech you for your own tranquilities sake, never think that I have such a kind of spirit as can submit and crouch unto any ill fortune; but on the contrary, be confident that if I were in the head of two hundred thousand men, and you my prisoner, I would do more for you, than now I am in your fetters: The truth is Madam, since I am persuaded that it is glorious not to grant that which cannot be denied without danger, I will not promise you to leave loving Mandana, or consent she should marry Ariantes, nor promise to see her no more: Since of these three things which I ask (replied Thomyris sharply) there is one of them which depends absolutely upon me and not at all upon you, I cannot tell whether it be prudence in you to incense any by your arrogant generosity, for I need not your consent to hinder you from ever seeing Mandana; nor need it in Ariantes marriage of her, for since if I will, I can look upon you as the murderer of my Son: If the fancy take me I shall lock you up eternally in my chains. As Fortune hath brought me hither into them against my will (replied Cyrus) so she may chance to take me out against yours: And therefore Madam without any regard unto your needless threatenings, I will tell you with all possible sincerity, that could I ever have been unfaithful unto Mandana, your charms Madam would have made me so, when I was in your Court under the name of Artamenes. And I must ingeniously confess, that I gave her a greater testimony of my Love in not loving you, than in the taking of Babylon, Sardis, and Cumes: Since certainly it is a more easy matter to win battles and take towns than to defend one's heart against such a person as you were when I had the honour first to see you. For to tell you truly Madam, Though you be as fair now as then you were, yet you are less terrible to me now than you were than: For truly as soon as you began to persecute Mandana, as soon as ever you began to be cruel, and would needs make yourself loved by terror, you lost all that would make you amiable. I cannot tell (said she, and in a rage interrupted him) whether I can make myself Loved, but I am sure I can make myself be obeyed. And I perceive if I will ever have any rest, I must hate you living as I did when you were dead, and seek out my satisfaction in revenge.  
After this Thomyris went away and stayed not for the answer of Cyrus, and she carried with her more thoughts of fury than Love, she was vexed at the Soul, because she had not said enough, to tender his heart, she repented of every word she pronounced, and sometimes she thought that if she had gone the mild way, she had better effected her desires. And sometimes again she thought that if she had menanaced him with the death of Mandana, it would have staggered his constancy: So as being unsatisfied with herself, both at what she had done, and what she should have done, she was most insufferably tormented.  
On the other side, Cyrus was in a miserable condition; for not knowing that she had seen that Letter which he had writ unto Mandana, he thought that what she had spoke concerning Mandana's Levity, had a right ground, and was grieved to the very soul at it.  
But whilst the souls of Cyrus and Thomyris were thus disquieted, Mereontes who wasconcealed amongst the Sauromattan Captains, with Myrsiles, Hydaspes, & Chrysantes, they continued the same design on foot, which once was ready for Execution: The 〈…〉 ends of Ariantes also bethinking themselves how to deliver this Prince, and knowing how the Sauromates were discontented, did make a proposition to join with them, and get Ariantes out of the hands of Thomyris: The Sauromattan Captains without giving any positive answer unto those who made this proposition, acquainted Myrsiles, Hydaspes, Mereontes, and Chrysantes with it: Who all conceived, that if they could unite the friends of Ariantes unto theirs, that Thomyris would be infallibly lost, and that Cyrus and Mandana would be delivered: The reason why they hoped this was not impossible, was; because they knew that the friends of Ariantes were afraid Thomyris would put that Prince to death; for since he once went about to take a crown from her, they thought that she would seek for a colour to palliate her revenge upon him: So as imagining that if this union could be made, it would make much for the advantage of Cyrus, these Sauromattan Captains entertained the motion, and brought things to that pass, that the friends of Ariantes conferred with the friends of Cyrus: But since neither side could answer for those Princes for whom they transacted; they agreed that both sides should endeavour to make known the state of things unto them: And in order to that, Myrsiles, and Mereontes found out means to send word unto Croesus, and Mazares, that they should attempt nothing until they heard further from them.  
In the mean time, there passed not a day in which Thomyris had not some new persecution for Cyrus and Mandana. For she obliged all the prisoner Princes to see Cyrus one after another, and to persuade him not to pretend any more unto Mandana: Also she would have all the rest of the Captives in their turns to see Mandana and move her to marry Ariantes, and she spoke herself unto the Prince her brother, (and persuaded him not to think any more of marrying Mandana, but to give her over unto her vengeance; for this violent Queen was come to that pass that she thought no more of making Cyrus love her, but only to take his Love off her whom he adored. So that when she saw it a thing impossible to persuade Mandana ever to marry Ariantes; she had a fancy to persuade Ariantes to let her be put to death. That which I desire of you Brother (said she unto him) you should me thinks ask me, and should desire to be revenged of a strong hearted person who scorns and hates you: And though you had no other advantage by it, but to imagine the sorrows of your Rival, yet that were enough to move your consent unto it.  
If you will suffer me (replied Ariantes rough y) to go and poniard Cyrus, I shall perhaps consent that you shall poison Mandana: I agree unto your proposition, (answered Thomyris suddenly.) Oh most cruel Princess, (said Ariantes then) what a most abominable Love is yours? No, no (added he) deceive not yourself; I am the Enemy of Cyrus, but I will never be his butcher. And moreover I do most solemnly protest, that if you attempt any thing against the life of Mandana, yours shall infallibly answer for it; for though I cannot get out of your chains, yet I have friends who will revenge your cruelty, and I doubt not but all the world will arm themselves and ruin you.  
Thomyris seeing with what an Air Ariantes spoke this, was ashamed, but it was a shame accompanied with anger, which made her express herself infinitely angry at that Prince: You think perhaps (said she unto him) to get upon that Throne which once you rebelliously mounted: But let me tell you, that I will keep you in my fetters as a vanquished Usurper, and as a rebellious Subject.  
After this, that enraged Queen left him, and left him with thoughts of hatred, as great and violent against him as against Mandana, and her resolutions were as cruel against him as against her, she knew she was in the wrong; but that knowledge did not induce her to repent, but rather increased her fury. Yet in the midst of all these turbulencies▪ she sent orders unto all the Officers of the army and endeavoured to dispose of things that she might be the commander of Cyrus and Mandana's destiny: She had a thousand desires to see that Prince again, and try if she could overcome his mind by a thousand testimonies of tenderness and affection, but the arrogant pride of her heart, and shame together, would not give her leave, but contented herself with causing him to be told that she asked no more than that he would pretend no more unto Mandana. So as by this means Cyrus saw himself delivered from the necessity of any conference with her, nor could this Queen ever tell Mandana. any more that she required of her to yield Cyrus unto her, but only that she should marry Ariantes: Thus Thomyris thought to hide some part of her weakness and conserve of her modesty a little more. Yet somtimesshe would express such visible testimonies of her passion. that all about her could not doubt it; for she would continual be ask what Cyrus did, and what he said? whether he did not murmur against her? whether he spoke of Mandana? and a thousand such like, And what was most strange, she wouldsomtimes men who neither did, nor could know any thing; for none except the Guards, and such as she commanded, ever saw him. So as it was impossible for Myrsiles, Hydaspes, Mereontes, and Chrysantes, to acquaint Cyrus w th' the treaty which they had with the friends of Ariantes, who also on their sides could not make their intentions known unto their Prince; so that assembling one night in the Tent of one of the Sauromattan Captains, where Myrsiles, Hydaspes, Mereontes, and Chrysantes were concealed, they resolved, knowing the generosity of those two Princes, to go on with that treaty as if they consented; assuring themselves that they would not be against it.  
Whilst they were assembled to that end, Meliantes escaped his guards, and came thither; much augmenting their hopes by seeing their side strengthened by such a valiant man who had intelligence of many things which Mereontes had not known but for him: Yet Hydaspes was troubled to see his Rival the Protector of Cyrus, and Meliantes was astonished to see Hydaspes in that place: yet considering how the case of Cyrus, and all things else stood, he looked upon him in this business; as the friend of Cyrus rather than as the Lover of Alpasia; so as telling him the state of affairs, he was of their opinion and conclnded that there was an absolute necessity of uniting themselves to deliver Cyrus and Ariantes. He who negotiated most for Ariantes was a Massagettan called Otryades, who had been the friend of Aripithes, and who had a great desire to see Ariantes King; so as excepting against nothing which the friends of Cyrus propounded so Ariantes might be delivered and out of the power of Thomyris, the Treaty was quickly concluded and agreed upon. They promised a mutual assistance to execute this great design; they swore they would fight jointly against those that would oppose the Liberty of Cyrus and Ariantes, and when those two Princes were free, they would address themselves unto them to know what they would have them do, every one then ●o have the Liberty to take which side they pleased, in case those Princes could not continue friends: Yet there was one difficulty which Otryades dorred at, for the friends of Cyrus would have the first attempt that was made upon the Tents Royal to deliver Cyrus, and the other side would have Ariantes first delivered: Then there was an expedient proposed to reconcile the matter which was to go, and fall upon the Tents Royal of Thomyris and secure her person, for (said he who made the proposition) by assuring yourselves of that Queen you will deliver both Cyrus, Ariantes, and Mandana: But though there was some colour of reason in this proposition, yet the friends of Cyrus would not accept of it, because they said that if they should fall upon Thomyris at first they should hazard themselves to be overcome, since it was impossible but the people would arm themselves for the defence of their Queen, whereas on the contrary, if their design appeared to be only to deliver Cyrus, they will not stir, so as finding no resistance, the thing will be more easily executed: Adding that if once they had Cyrus in the head of them, than victory would certainly be theirs. Otryades answered unto this, that its true the Liberty of Cyrus was more easily gotten that way, but not the Liberty of Ariantes, since it depended after that upon the will of his Rival. So as finding out a middle way between these two extremes, Myrsiles proposed to make two assaults at once, so as to amuse Thomyris the more, who would be forced to divide her Forces. So than it was resolved that this expedient propounded by Myrsiles should be followed, and that the Tents where Cyrus and Ariantes were guarded should be set upon both at once: That they should not go unto that of Mandana, because they would leave the glory of delivering her unto the two Princes: That in the mean time they should promise each other, that they who did first execute their design, and had effected it, they should go immediately and assist the other to execute theirs, and that they should oblige the Prince whom they had delivered to go and help to deliver his Rival. These things being thus resolved upon, they waited for the day, and hour of Execution. They sent away immediately unto Croesus and Mazares, to the end they might fall upon the Camp of Thomyris; when the Sauromates came to the Tents Royal to join with the friends of Cyrus and Ariantes, and to the end they might send unto Artabatis to fall upon Andramites with part of his forces, and send the rest to entrench themselves between the Tents Royal and the Camp of Thomyris: Thus it was resolved that after four days, and just at midnight after, this great design should be executed: But at the end of this conference, Mereontes knowing upon what terms both Meliantes and Hydaspes were, he came unto them, and very discreetly obliged them to refer all their difference until Cyrus was delivered, so as both of them being persuaded unto it with equal generosity, they unanimously transacted together for the interest of this great Prince as if they had never been Rivals. Thus Meliantes looked upon Hydaspes as the friend of Cyrus, and Hydaspes looked upon Meliantes as the Protector of this Hero.  
In the Interim, those, for whom this great design was in transaction, were not a jot the less miserable, but saw so little likelihood of any alteration in their fortunes, that they did not only suffer under their present afflictions, but also under the fears of those which would infallibly fall upon them in the future: Yet Thomyris was in a worse condition than they, because her hopes were less than theirs; And all the sweetness that she had in life, was only in the long torments which she was preparing for those who rendered her so unhappy. But her principal drift was, to put off that Winter without fight, to the end that the Army of Cyrus might be forced to retreat on the other side of A●axes, it not being possible it should subsist in an Enemy's Country, by continual supplies so far fetched.  
As Thomyris was in this mind, and in order unto that, sending order upon order not to hazard a fight, at least, unless upon some great advantage, there chanced an accident, which much augmented her inquietudes: so as it is a hard matter that a great secret known unto many men should be long undiscovered, especially when it is amongst persons of several sides; so there was one of Ariantes his friends, kinsman unto Otryades, who seeing this great design ripe, and that it would be executed the next day at midnight, he began to repent; for since he knew not how far the generosity of Cyrus might extend, he imagined that when this Prince was delivered, he would load Thomyris with the same Chains wherein he had been fettered: that he would ruin Ariantes; that he would make all the Massagettans Tributaries, or else in revenge would quite extirpate them. So as wondering that he should have these thoughts no sooner, he repented of his engagement with Otryades, and his repentance went so far, that he intended to betray all those unto whom he had promised fidelity. 'tis true, he thought that by acquainting Thomyris, he should oblige her to deliver Ariantes: So, without more delay he went unto the Queen secretly in the night, and desired private conference: At the first, he desired of her a promise of Ariantes his liberty, in case he acquainted her with such things, as should let her see he had done her the best service that ever any did. But since that Queen would not engage herself unto any such promise, he then told her that he would impart no further unto her: Thomyris being incensed at him, said, that it was not his duty to capitulate with her, but bade him know that he was in her Tent, that she was Mistress, both of his liberty and life, and therefore she would make him tell all he knew, without any conditions.  
This man being terrified by the fury of Thomyris, he told her all he knew concerning the design which was to be executed the night following; also he did so punctually circumstance the business, that she did not doubt of any thing he said, ●o as she was infinitely amazed and perplexed; and to confirm her belief, Agathirses sent to acquaint her, That part of Artabates his Troops draw near them, and that he could not dive into the design of it: That he understood also by some Prisoners which he had taken, that there was some great enterprise preparing in the Camp of Cyrus, and that he thought himself obliged to tell her how he understood that there was a Confederacy amongst some Officers in her Army. Thomyris finding a Concurrence with what the Kinsman of Otryades had told her, her Soul was so perplexed, that she knew not what to resolve upon.  
At the first she intended to arrest Myrsiles, Meliantes, Hydaspes, Mereontes, and Chrysantes, in the Tent where this Kinsman unto Otryades said they were: But upon second thoughts she considered, that though they were arrested, yet they were but five men; that this would not hinder the Sauromates from severing from her Army, and from coming to the Tents Royal; nor would it hinder Croesus and Mazares from falling upon her Camp, nor Artabatis from assaulting Andramites, not the rest of his Forces from encamping between the Tents Royal and her Camp; And that so she should only make a great noise to no purpose, and perhaps hasten the Execution of that design which would ruin her: So as not knowing neither what to do, nor what to think, she was almost out of her wits; But since her greatest care was to hinder Cyrus and Mandana from ever being happy together, her design was to make sure of them, and that their lives might be in her power, in case she was forced to fly: And in order to that, she commanded that Mandana should be immediately removed out of that Tent where she was unto another, near that where Cyrus was kept; to the end, that if her Party proved the weaker, she might put them to death before she fled. For she conceived that if the design of her Enemies did take, she could not be in a condition to carry them unto Issidon, as her intention was to retire herself if she was forced. Also she gave orders▪ that double Guards should be set upon Ariantes? She commanded the Tent wherein Myrsiles, Meliantes, Hydaspes, Mereontes, and Chrisantes were concealed to be set round in the evening; She commanded all the Caval●y she had to be ready upon a minute's warning: And she acquainted all the Officers of her Army with what the kinsman of Otryades had told her; also she ordered all the Soldiers to be ready in Arms, and she herself made choice of him whom she intended for the Murderer of Cyrus and Mandana▪ and accordingly she sent for that Geton Captain, who presented her the head of Spitridates in lieu of the head of Cyrus, and propounded this cruel act unto him, for knowing him to be a man that was void of all humanity, and so corrupt, she believed he would obey her in any thing; and indeed she was not deceived in him, for this barbarous Geton promised her to poniard Cyrus and Mandana, whensoever she gave the word: And to that end she gave him absolute command over all those who guarded them, and permitted him also to have many of his own Soldiers with him, in whom he trusted more, then in the former Guards of those two Illustrious Persons, who plainly perceived by this change, that some bad intentions were towards. This Gelon Captain being naturally harsh and cruel, he treated them in a manner much different then they were before: For Mandana durst not so much as whisper unto Doralisa, or Martesia, or H●sionide, who now waited upon her, and Cyrus had not so much liberty as to speak unto any of the Guard.  
But whilst Thomyris was dispersing her several Commanders, the night came on, and all those who laboured for the liberty of Cyrus, Ariantes, and Mandana▪ prepared themselves for the execution of the design; Myrsiles, Meliantes, Hydaspes, Mereontes, and Chrysantes, were much surprised when they heard that Mandana's Tent was changed, and that there were some men in Arms who beset the Tent wherein they were. Otryades also wondered that he did not see his kinsman, and the more when he heard that he was seen to go into the Tent of Thomyris, and being a man of much honesty, he sent secretly to advertise Myrsiles, Meliantes, Hydaspes, Mereontes, and Chrisantes of his fears: So as they began to consult what they should do to get into some place where they might safely wait until they heard that the Sauromates, who were to quit the Camp of Thomyris, were come and had made an assault upon those who guarded the Tents Royal, and conceiving there was no safe staying in that Tent wherein they were, they got the Habits of slaves upon their own, and as soon as ever it began to be dark, they went out at several doors unto another Tent where Chrysantes carried them, and where he and Feraulas lay ●id when they disguised them like Massagettans, and came to inquire of their Illustrious Master: Otryades also, shifted his Tent, and assembled so many of his friends about him, as it had not been an easy matter to take him, thought ●t had been attempted.  
In the mean time, Thomyris was in a strange perplexity as soon as the night came; for considering the intelligence which she had received, she had a desire to be in the head of her Army: but not being able to be far from Cyrus and Mandana, since she would be sure to dispose of their lives, therefore she would stay in ●ke Tents Royal: and in the midst of all her violent thoughts, she found some sweetness in thinking, that though all her Army were defeated, though the Tents Royal were forced, and though she were forced to fly, yet she could prevent Cyrus and Mandana from being delivered, since it was in her power to put them to death as soon as she saw no other hopes. To that end, she would not go to bed that night, but be in readiness to give orders as she saw occasion, and to fly if forced. But at last the fatal time of disturbing the serenity of that quiet night being come, every one from several Quarters began to act their business at such a just hour, that almost at the very same instant Artabatis fell upon Andramites at the entrance of the Wood; Croesus and Mazares assaulted the Camp of Thomyris, The Sauromates came to the Tents Royal, half of Artabatis his Force● got between the Camp and the Tents Royal, and the friends of Cyrus and Ariantes met in the place appointed: And indeed as soon as the Sauromates began the Assault, the friends of Cyrus and Ariantes divided themselves; one went to the Tent of Cyrus, the other to that of Ariantes, each of these courageous Troops consisting of about a hundred stout Soldiers, which they had secretly made sure of: So as Thomyris hearing by several ways at one time that her Camp was assaulted; That Forces had got betwixt and cut off all Communication, that others would fall upon the Tents Royal, and that some also would assault the Tents of Cyrus and Ariantes, she was more perplexed than is imaginable. In this great disorder, she commanded that they should defend that Tent wherein Cyrus was as her own, and indeed that wherein the Prince was, and that wherein Mandana was, were so close to hers, that they all made but one  
In the mean time, according to the Massagettan custom in popular tumults, or in surprisals of War, every one began to set a light upon the Tops of their Tents, to the end they might distinguish between friends and Enemies: So as hard by this huge multitude of Tents having every one a Lamp like a guilded apple wherewith the Massagetts use to adorn the tops of their Tents, they made such a pleasant show▪ and gave such a light as on smite easily know friends from fo●s. The Tent of Thomyris standing in the midst, and the highest, she might discern from thence the noise which the Sauromates made in assaulting the Tents Royal. The noise which Otryades made in assaulting the Tent of Ariantes; that which Myrsiles, Meliantes, Hydaspes, Mereontes, Chrysantes and their company made in for●ing those who guarded a●bar which was before the first door of the Tent where Cyrus was, which Tent was so contrived, that they must pass through three Tents before they came into that wherein he was, and by consequence they had three Courts of guard to force.  
Thomyris hearing such a tumultuous hurly burly from all parts, did prepare herself for flight, and indeed there were horses ready behind the Tent, and those who were to wait upon her were ready also; and she called for a poniard, to the end she might be mistress of her own life as well as of the lives of Cyrus and Mandana, and never become a Captive to her Enemies.  
Every minute some came to acquaint her with the state of things, and every minute she received a fresh affliction: Croesus and Mazares having fallen upon the Camp of Thomyris at the same time when the Sauromates fell upon the Tents Royal, they had put them to such great disorder, that all the valour of Agatherfis and of all the rest of the high Officers, could not keep their men from sinking under their own fears: So as thinking it fit to acquaint Thomyris with the state of things, Agathersis was so plain with her, as she knew that since such a valiant man as he despaired of victory, she might well fear the worst.  
On the other side, the Sauromates who assaulted the Tents Royal fight as well to revenge their dead Prince as to deliver Cyrus, their animosity was so great that their valour was terrible, so as Thomyris saw all went wrong with her: But her greatest grief was, those who would force the Tent where Cyrus was were masters of the first bar, and were fight for the first Entrance into the Tent. Her greatest astonishment was, that the people would not stir against the Sauromates, nor offer to relieve her: For since they thought the imprisonment of Cyrus to be unjust, they wished that he, and Mandana both were at liberty, in a thought that then the war would soon be at an end.  
Thomyris seeing herself in this extremity, had but the choice of these two ways before her flight, either to leave Cyrus and Mandana happy in their liberty, or else to put them to death. A thought of Justice, Generosity, and Love gave some repugnancy unto such a●tragicall resolution, but on the other side, Love being accompanied with Jealousy, Despair, and Fury, she thought that since there was no hopes of enjoying the party loved, there was no way but revenge: Yet she stood and studied a while; as unresolved, and would tarry till the very last extremity, before she did execute her cruel Resolution. She intended to poniard Mandana before she killed Cyrus, and she intended, during this great tumult, to try once more if she could tender the heart of that Prince: But as she enured into his Tent, she heard him name her, so as staying to hear what he said, she changed her mind: For Cyrus being in a strange inquietude to know the cause of so great a noise which he heard, he asked that cruel Captain of the Gelons whether Thomyris had designed him for his butcher, and he answering him as arrogantly as if he were to poniard him presently, Cyrus could not hold from speaking sharply unto him, I plainly see (said he unto him) that you are fit to be the murdering minister of that cruel Queen's Injustice, and who had never been in a condition to persecute Mandana, if I had killed her as I easily could in the wood of Sacromates. That thou mayst not upbraid me for letting thee live, (cried out the fierce Thomyris) as thou dost upbraid thyself in sparing my life, I will cause thee to be stabbed as soon as Mandana has given up her last breath; and all the favour that thou canst expect is to die by the same hand that she did, and that the dagger which pierced her heart shall pierce thine also.  
After this, she called for the Captain of the Gelons, and went to her Tent leawing Cyrus more grieved at her menaces against Mandana then ever he was before, as for his own life he did not value it; nor could he answer unto what that unjust Queen said: for he did so wonder to hear her voice, and to hear that sad sentence against Mandana, that before he could recover himself out of his astonishment, and be sure that he understood how she was gone; yet he could not choose but speak out of the abundance of his grief as if she were present, and vented such moving expressions, as if the Guards had understood him, doubtless their hearts had been mollified; but since they did not understand that language wherein he expressed himself, they were not at all moved; For being almost all Gelons, they understood not the Persian, Armenian, Grecian, Cappadocean, nor the Medean Language, so as all the complaints of Cyrus before them, were but wind.  
However, the tumult still increasing, Thomyris understood that the Sauromates had forced those who resisted them. So as foreseeing that Cyrus and Mandana would infallibly be relieved, if she did not put them to death, and that she herself would be taken if she did not fly; she commanded that barbarous Captain of the Gelons whom she had brought into her Tent, to go and poniard Mandana and afterwards Cyrus; appointing him to let the death of that Princess be first known unto him: This horrid Officer began to prepare himself for obedience, and he had not gone two paces but she called him back, and told him in a shaking voice, that she would have him kill Mandana, and not Cyrus: but one of the Guards coming in and acquainting her that the Tent wherein he was would be quickly forced, she called for the fatal Executioner again: Go (said she) and execute my first commands, and be sure you first acquaint Cyrus with the death of Mandana, for I shall not be revenged enough, unless he do also know of her death, as soon as you have done, return back unto me and bring me word of the end of their lives, who have so troubled the tranquillity of mine, to the end I may see whether I must die, or fly. The inhuman Thomyris having given this most horrid command, he who was to execute it, went into Mandana's Tent; as soon as he was entered all the women were heard to cry out most lamentably, and presently after, this bloody man came out with a dagger all bloody in his hand, and entering in that Equipage into the Tent of Cyrus; he went strait towards that illustrious Prince, with intentions to strike him to the heart, and thought that his companions would help him in the assassination, if his first blow miss, but since he would exactly obey the Commands of Thomyris he told him in broken Assyrian, that his dagger still wreked with the blood of Mandana, and as soon as he had said so, he lifted up his Arm to stab the greatest Prince upon Earth, but as he thought to have struck him to the heart, Cyrus having heard of Mandana's death, and desiring revenge, he did envigorate his valiant strength and snatched it out of his hand, and without more delay struck him to the heart, and made him fall at his feet. This heroic action was done so suddenly, and despair had made the visage of Cyrus so terrible, that his guards were all affrighted and knew not what to do.  
But at last one of them falling upon him, and by his Example, showing others what to do, Cyrus was in greater danger than ever, but fight now in revenge of Mandana, more than in defence of his own life, his valour appeared more than ever.  
He got a sword from one of the Guards, as before he got a Dagger from the Gelon Captain, and did things so prodigious, as to relate them in particular, would seem incredible: For he did not only kill three or four of the Guard, wounded many, & made the rest to fly, but he came boldly out of his Tent, & went 〈◊〉 that of Thomyris, to seek for some more noble victory to sacrifice unto Mandana, than those he had in his Tent: So as all making way for such a terrible enemy, he went just unto the door of that Queen's Tent, who expected the return of him whom, she had commanded to kill both Mandana and Cyrus.  
Her wonder was not a little, when in Lieu of him, she saw Cyrus himself holding a Dagger in one hand, and a Sword in the other, and who by a menacing action made those who guarded the Tent to let him enter.  
Thomyris seeing his Action did think he came with intention to kill her, so as taking the Dagger which she had: No, no Cyrus (said she, and showed it unto him) thou shalt not be master of my destiny, since I have not been Mistress of thine, and if thou comest a foot further, I will let thee see, in slighting Death, that I was not worthy of thy scorn.  
Thomyris pronounced these words with such a resolute voice, that the Grandeur of her courage, equalling that of her cruelty, did a while suspend the intentions of those who heard her, for Cyrus did not advance, the Guards of the Queen did not fall upon that Prince, and for a while all was silent, as if amazed.  
But at last, the great Soul of Cyrus not permitting him to have any hand in the blood of a Queen as cruel as she was: Since I cannot kill thee (said he unto Thomyris) without polluting that hand which ought to revenge Mandana, sacrifice thyself unjust Queen unto her, whose death thou gavest, whilst I go and bestow it upon my Rival. At these words Cyrus making his way through all that would stop his passage (for he knew not that Ariantes was prisoner) he heard the same Queen who before commanded him to be killed, now forbid those who assaulted him, and she came in person to forbid them.  
As things were thus, another great noise was heard which made Cyrus believe, that now he should shortly go unto Mandana, and die before he had revenged hers by the death of his Rival. But he was strangely surprised to see that they who made that great noise were Myrsiles, Meliantes, Hydaspes, Mereontes, Chrisantes, and those who followed them; who after they had cleared their way, and forced unto the Tents of Cyrus, which they found empty, went afterwards unto Mandana's, where they found the unfortunate Hesionide dead, whom the Gelon Captain had killed in lieu of Mandana; for she being of the same stature, she had put on Mandana's clothes, and Mandana hers, in hopes to escape during that great hurly burly which they heard: So as Myrsiles and the rest having no mind to leave Mandana in that Tent, did bring her along with them with Doralisa and Martesia, when they found Cyrus at the entrance into the Tent of Thomyris. This great Prince seeing his Princess amongst his friends, was so transported with joy, that he never thought upon the ruin of that cruel Queen, who would have ruined herself.  
But on the contrary, his first rapture of joy being over, he perceived that Thomyris did lift up her arm to kill herself, he cried out unto those who stood nearest to prevent her: For seeing Mandana was not dead, though she had given orders for it, yet did he most generously pardon her.  
But during this tumultuous minute when friends & enemies were so mingled together without fight, another great and strange noise was heard: so as Cyrus thinking now upon nothing but how to preserve Mandana; he never thought upon Thomyris; who being hindered by her own men from killing herself, did take that opportunity to go out of her Tent by a back door: so as taking Horse, she with those who were to convoy her, forsook the Tents Royal, and did abandon herself un●o more horrid sorrow than ever soul was sensible of.  
But whilst she was flying away, it happened that those who made the great noise were the Prince Intaphernes, Atergatis, & Feraulas, whose Guards being affrighted at this great disorder, had left them: So as being got out, they went to the Tent of the Sauromates, who were to fight for Cyrus, and afterwards unto the Tent of Thomyris where they found them: But when the first apprehensions of joy were passed, Chrysantes not seeing Thomyris in her Tent, asked Cyrus whether he would not follow her, and bring her captive back? But this generous Prince understanding from Myrsiles and Mereontes, the conditions of the Treaty which they held with the friends of his Rival, he told Chrisantes that it was better to keep promise with his friends in delivering Ariantes, than to pursue an unfortunate Queen, whom, questionless the Gods would punish, without his meddling with her. And indeed, Cyrus, after he had taken all requisite order for the safety of Mandana, he went himself to help the friends of Ariantes and his own in the delivery of that Prince, but there was no need: For in going thither, he met with Otryades, who told Mereontes, that Ariantes was dead. How (replied Cyrus) is Ariantes killed? Yes (replied Otryades) and killed by an ancient Rival of his, yet the truth is, that unfortunate Prince did urge him unto it: But I pray (said Cyrus) let us understand in few words how Agathyrses came to kill Ariantes? Sir (replied Otryades) when your Army had entirely defeated that of Thomyris, maugre all the valour of the Massagettans, Agathyrses thought it his best course to come with that small remnant of his Cavalry, and join himself with Thomyris. But Sir, in his way thither, all those who followed him, forsook him, except only five or six. However, his great heart would needs go through unto that Queen: but in this way he was to pass before the Tent of Ariantes, and came just thither, as we had delivered that Prince, unto whom we had given Arms, to the end he might come according to our promise to your friends, and help them to deliver you. So as Ariantes seeing Agathyrses (whom he had never seen since their last difference) and his mind being exasperated by his ill fortune, he spoke something unto him in an arrogant way, as if he had upbraided him with all the misfortunes of his life. Agathyrses having a high and sensible soul, answered him in the like: Upon which Ariantes without any reply drew his Sword, and fell upon him so suriously, that Agathyrses who out of his respect was alighted from his Horse, was forced to defend himself: And indeed so he did, in such a manner, that before we could part them, Ariantes was mortally wounded, and Agathyrses in the throng escaped: So since Ariantes was the first who assaulted, honour would not permit us to follow him: However, as soon as Ariantes was fallen, I thought he should die: therefore beginning to speak, and looking upon me, 'Tis past Otryades (said he unto me) and I have no more share in life, only so much as to entreat you to tell Mandana that none ever gave her a greater testimony of love, than myself in being ungrateful unto Cyrus.  
After this, Ariantes growing weak, upon a sudden he expired: so as having laid his Corpse in the next Tent under the guard of some friends, I came with the rest, to keep my promise unto the Prince Myrsile, Meliantes, Hidaspes, Meriontes and Chrysantes. Otryades having done speaking, Cyrus according to his custom behaved himself with all imaginable generosity; for he spoke very worthily of the valour of Ariantes, and seemed to lament his death very much, since he had taken from him the glory of using him kindly.  
After which, this great Prince received news that Croesus & Mazares were advancing toward the Tents Royal, & were joined with those Forces which quarteder between the Tents, and the Camp of Thomyris: That Artabatis had defeated Andramites, who died at that bout: and that at the same time he had retaken the Fort of Sauromates, and consequently delivered the King of Hyrcania and Anacharsis. So as seeing no more Enemies to fight against, he had nothing to do but to appease the great tumult which was in the Tents Royal, and to prevent plunder. Thus causing Proclamation to be made, that Thomyris was fled, that Ariantes was dead, and that he would pardon all the Massagettans, so they would lay down their Arms: In one hour all was quiet, all the Massagettans laid down their Arms, and kept within their Tents: The Sauromates left plundering, and went under their Ensigns unto all the advenues of the Tents Royal, unto the public places, & before the Tent where Mandana was: After which, Cyrus permitted Intephernes, Atergatis, Meliantes, and Hidaspes to go unto the Princess Onesile, the Princess of Bythinia, Istrina, Arpasia, and Telagenes, to bring them unto Mandana: Yet he would not have given this permission unto Meliantes and Hidaspes to see Arpasia, but upon condition they should carry themselves in this business as friends, and not aa the lovers of Arpasia. And indeed they obeyed Cyrus, who after he had given all requisite orders for all things, he went unto Mandana, unto whom all the captive Princesses were come: And she received him with so many signs of joy in her countenance, that he thought himself richly recompensed for all the miseries he had endured since first he began to love her.  
And to render his happiness more complete, Feraulas gave him to understand in few words, how much too blame he was in suspecting the fidelity of Mandana, and upbraiding her with those joys which she seemed to have after he had acquainted her with his being alive: so that his soul being fully satisfied, and his mind in perfect tranquillity, he accosted her with unexpressable delight: Oh Madam (said he unto her after he had saluted her, and done all his befiting compliments unto the rest of the Princesses with her) I begin now to hope that Fortune has done her worst, and that the Gods will render justice unto your merit and virtue, since Croesus and Mazares have vanquished our Enemies, since Artabatis hath done the like, and since the Fort of the Sauromates is taken.  
My greatest hope is (replied Mandana most obligingly, unto whom Feraulas had spoken enough to justify Cyrus for upbraiding her) that you do so well deserve to be happy, as I need not fear being unfortunate, since you have persuaded me that you will never think yourself so if I be miserable: But for all that Sir, I have seen such great and sudden alterations in my Fortune, that sometimes my fears are above my hopes; Yet when I consider how the King of Assyria, the King of Pontus, and the Prince Ariantes are all dead: That Thomyris is fled: that I am in the same place where I was a Captive: that you are absolute Master of the Tents Royal, that your Armies are victorious, that the Fort of Sauromates is is taken, that the passage over the River Araxes is free, and that the Prince Mazares is more virtuous than amorous, me thinks I am much too blame if I fear any thing, but have all the reason in the world to hope that the end of my life will be much more happy than the beginning was. Doubtless Madam you have reason to think so (replied Cyrus) But for me, whose destiny is in your hands more than in Fortunes, I have still more reason to fear, than hope.  
As long as you believe me to be just (answered Mandana most obligingly) doubtless you have more reason to hope than to fear: and therefore since I believe you will do me justice, I do not think it necessary to give you any new testimonies of my acknowledgements: Alas Madam (said he) how ill does the word acknowledgement suit with my expectations? my supreme hopes is in the honour of your affection; and I look upon it as a thing so precious, that though I had done you millions of services more than I have, yet I should think myself infinitely ungrateful, if I did not desire to do you much more, and to employ every minute of my life in doing you new services, and giving you fresh testimonies of my affection.  
After this, the night being so far spent, that day was ready to break, Cyrus thought it fit to leave the Ladies to their rest: And therefore left them in the Tent of Thomyris, whilst he went into another, with all the Princes who had been sharers with him in his miseries, and now were to be partakers of his happiness. However, since Mandana in the midst of her joys was still grieved for the death of Hesionide, she appointed all honours should be rendered unto her Funeral, and Feraulas had it in charge to have an especial care of it. On the other side, Cyrus whose eye was upon every thing, he took singular care, that all the women of Thomyris who did not follow her, should receive no wrong: As for Gelonide, though she did not approve of that Queen's passion, yet she followed her as a comforter in her misery.  
In the mean time, since it was impossible to think upon any sleep that night, and since Cyrus was accustomed to wake without any prejudice to himself, he employed that little time between his leaving Mandana and the break of day, in thinking of departure the next day from a place where his Princess and he had endured such miseries: For since the Battle which Croesus and Mazares fought was not deep in blood, because the Sauromates disserting the Massagets, the Army of Thomyris was put into disorder, he thought it not impossible, and much less when he heard that his Army was encamped within twelve furlongs of the Tents Royal; and that Croesus and Mazares sent to him to know what his pleasure was: so as seeing no obstacle unto his design, since his Troops were reassembled, and encamped so near; as soon as he thought that the Ladies had sufficiently rested themselves, and quitted all their fears, he sent to ask Mandana whether she had rather be in the Camp or in the Tents Royal? And her thoughts being his, he began to give out his last Orders. But first, the piety of Mandana moved her to begin her journey with a sacrifice of Thanks unto the Gods: So though the Massagets had no Temples, yet she offered a sacrifice of Thanks by an Ecbatane Priest, who was come into the Army of Cyrus, and who came into the Tents Royal also, to see whether it was true that the Daughter of his King was at liberty.  
After this, Cyrus told Otryades that it was fit that all Funeral honours should be done unto the Prince Ariantes, and he left him wherewith to build a stately Sepulchre and Monument for the Prince Spitridates and Araminta: and he commanded that one also should be erected next theirs for the faithful Hesionide. Afterwards he sent some to follow Thomyris, and to tell her from him that though all the Country of the Massagettes might be his, as the rest of his Conquest, were, yet he would not pursue her, but generously restore it unto her; declaring that he had never made War but for the liberty of Mandana, he would look no further, but would turn back over Araxes, without taking away any thing that was hers, only some Coaches, which he could not get elsewhere, in which all the Princesses & Ladies did get, and Cyrus riding on Horseback, accompanied with Myrsiles, Intaphernes, Atergatis, Meliantes, Hydaspes, Mereontes, Chrisantes, Feraulas, and some other Sauromattan Captains which took his part were their Convoy, and carried them to the Camp, causing all his Troops to quit the Tents Royal, and march in Battalia behind Mandana. And whilst she was advancing towards the Camp of Cyrus, Croesus and Mazares prepared themselves to receive her with all the honours which so short a warning would permit. To that end they drew out all their Troops in their Arms, and making a Guard of six furlongs in length, they went to meet them, accompanied with the Prince Tygranes, Artamas, Gadates, Indathyrses, the Prince of Paphlagonia, Gabrias, Silamis, Araspes, Aglatidas, Ligàamis, Adonacris, Mnesiphiles, Cherseas, Diocles, and many others.  
The truth is, Mazares was not without new agitation of soul: For in the time when he thought Cyrus dead, hope had a little revived in his heart, and there kindled new flames, so as there was a new Combat between his virtue and his love: yet in the end virtue got the predominancy, and he had such a power over himself, that nothing appeared in his countenance but a quiet joy, when he saw Cyrus and Mandana together, and saw them in such a condition, as in all probability they might hope for happiness together, and he received them both with many signs of esteem and amity: For after Croesus had saluted them, they gave a thousand commendations unto Mazares, and afterwards unto all the men that accompanied them. Gadates, he was very glad to see Istrina again, Gabrias was joyed at the sight of Arpasia, and he could not choose but be glad also to see Meliantes, though he knew not well how to carry himself between him and Hidaspes. Indathyrses was much satisfied at the sight of Telagenes, unto whom he had a strong inclination: Tigranes was as much rejoiced to see Onesile, as if he were her Lover, and not her Husband. Intaphernes spoke unto the Princess of Bythinia, who was more sad than any of the rest, because she mourned for the death of her Father and Spitridates. Myrsiles he entertained Doralisa, who according to her humour complained against him for not comforting her after the death of Andramites, of which she was very glad. As for Meliantes and Hidaspes, they both spoke unto Arpasia and Gabrias, keeping most exactly within the limits which Cyrus had prescribed them: So the way not being very fit for long discourse, the entertainment of these excellent persons quickly ended, and continuing their march, they were received into the Camp with such acclamations of great joy as never was the like heard.  
In the mean time, as impatient as Cyrus was to be far off the place where his Princess and himself had been Captives, yet there was a necessity of lying in the Camp; for before all the Officers of the Army had expressed all their Joys and Compliments, it was so late as there was no thinking of departure: So as Mandana and the other Princesses lodged in the Tents of Croesus and Mazares, Cyrus in that of Artamas, Croesus and Mazares in those of Gabrias and Gadates, and all the rest of the Princes in their own. Cyrus was no sooner dis-engaged from that abundance of men who testified their joys, but he went unto the Tent of the Princesses, where he passed away the Evening in such great delight, that he quite forgot all his past miseries; for since there was not one Lady there who had not some particular friend to entertain, except Onesile, who entertained Mazares, Cyrus applied himself wholly unto Mandana; and in such a most agreeable manner, that in lieu of accusing, he was forced to justify her: For though Feraulas had told him that he was obliged unto her for that smile which he saw in her eyes as she passed before his Tent, yet he was extremely glad to hear from the mouth of his Princess, that she grieved for him, and was not comforted after she heard of his death: And she did so obligingly aggravate her grief that day she beheld the dismal ceremony of Thomyris, that his joys were unconceivable. And when he looked upon the fair eyes of Mandana, and considered that they shed tears for him, all the love of his heart appeared in his own: and he thanked her for it in such a passionate manner, that Mandana thought him worthy of those tears which she shed, and that he did merit her affection: So as laying aside that exact and severe reservedness, which always obliged her to hide the tenderness of her thoughts, she did him the favour that night to discover part of her mind unto him, and to let him divine the rest.  
But whilst these two illustrious Lovers were making mutual exchanges of love, Intaphernes did what he could to comfort his Princess in her mourning: Atergatis also entertained Istrina with abundance of satisfaction; for since the King of Assyria was dead, he believed Gadates would be no hindrance of his happiness. As for Myrsiles, though he was very much joyed in his talk with Doralisa, yet he was less happy than the rest; because her humour was such, that though she had loved that Prince as well as he loved her, yet he would find such a sweet inequality in her, as he would often complain of her rigour, even when she intended to give him cause to commend her: For though she was always equally generous towards her friends, yet she was always very unequal towards her Lovers: So as though Myrsiles was much joyed in being with her, yet it was with a mixture of many bitter minutes.  
But as for Meliantes and Hydaspes, they were the least content of all; for such was the temper of Arpasia's mind, that endeavouring to carry fair unto both, she obliged neither. Yet Meliantes was happier than Hydaspes, because Hidaspes thought Meliantes more in Arapasias' favour than he was; so as though Meliantes was not altogether content with his Mistress, yet he was very glad to see the sadness of his Rival, though he extremely grieved that he enjoyed but half that heart of her he loved. But as for Hidaspes, since he hoped to have enjoyed all; and seeing it divided into two, his sorrows were above his expressions; for in point of glory, he concealed his vexation from his Rival. Meliantes also on his side, out o● the same motive he made it appear that he was more joyed than he was; and to get him some advantage over Hidaspes, it chanced when the discourse was general: and when Cyrus was ready to retire, that he spoke very advantageously of Meliantes unto Mandana, and entreated her very obligingly to let him have the honour of her esteem and friendship: Also Meliantes thought himself highly recompensed for the service he had done that Prince, since he had given him such commendations: For truly Madam (said Cyrus unto Mandana) I assure you that Meliantes hath more conquered me by his virtue, than his valour, though his valour be such as made me his prisoner: and such is his merit, that doubtless he deserves your acquaintance.  
Oh Sir! (said Meliantes) I cannot endure you should say you were my Prisoner; for I have ever endeavoured to obey you since the first time I had the honour to see you: 'Tis true (replied Cyrus) but however, by the laws of War, you might have commanded me, and in not doing it, your generosity the more appears. Also I assure you, that you have lost nothing by it; for my acknowledgement gives you more power over me, than the right of Conquerors can over the conquered.  
After this, Cyrus making himself ready to go away, Meliantes could not reply, and all the company parted. But Mandana did not yet go to bed; for since Cyrus had told her that he would send away Posts unto Ecbatane and Persepolis in the morning, that Princess would write unto Ciaxares; she writ also unto the Queen of Persia: And accordingly, Cyrus by break of day dispatched Araspes towards Cambyses, and Aglatidas towards Ciaxares, making choice of the last of these to carry this great news unto the King of Medes, to the end he might see his dear Amestris. However, to lose no precious time, as soon as all the Princesses were ready, they departed, and all the Army marched: For though there was no Enemy appeared in a body, yet Cyrus would have his Army march in Battalia, until he was on the other side of Araxes. And when he came unto the entrance into the wood which had been burned, Artabatis came and met Cyrus, who received him as a man who had much contributed unto his liberty, by the victory he had gotten over Andramites, and by those Troops which he sent unto the Tents Royal. It was in that place also where the wise Anacharsis did meet Cyrus, and did infinitely commend the moderation which he showed towards Thomyris: But Cyrus desiring to render justice unto the virtue of this illustrious Scythian, he presented him unto Mandana, in a most obliging manner, and in few words acquainted her with the merit of this excellent man. This Princess also did him all imaginable honour, and rendered as much unto his virtue, as unto his quality, which was great.  
Since the Fort of the Sauromates was in their way, and a convenient day's journey, all the Princesses did lie there, and were received by the King of Hyrcania, who was well recovered of his wounds, and able to meet Cyrus and Mandana at their entrance into the Fort, making many excuses that he came no further to meet them: After which he told Cyrus, that he would give him more than a Kingdom, if he would be pleased to render him what he had lost, and what so few ever knew that he had. This discourse is so dark unto me (replied Cyrus) that I cannot return an answer before you inform me what it is which you have lost, and which I can restore unto you. When you are in a more fitting place, Sir, to tell it in (replied the King of Hyrcania) I shall more precisely tell you, how I am this morning assured that I have a son in your Army, though none ever thought that ever I had a successor, or was ever married: And therefore Sir, when I have cleared unto you some circumstances which I shall this day know, I shall beseech you to restore him unto me.  
You may well imagine Sir (replied Cyrus) that I should be very glad if I could contribute any thing unto your satisfaction: You Sir, I say who was the first that came in to my side, and unto whom my first acknowledgements are due: After this, the King of Hyrcania returning a civil answer, without particularising any thing of his adventure, Mandana was ready to come out of her Coach, and Cyrus left him to go and present his hand unto her. All the rest of the Princes did the like unto the Princesses whom they adored: But Arpasia having two adorers who would equally strive for that office, they were ready to quarrel about it: And if Arpasia had not wisely carried herself, doubtless they had fallen foul upon one another.  
In the mean time, Cyrus being advertised of the passage, and understanding that Hydaspes was more in the wrong than Meliantes, he drew him apart: And after he had told him how he did not take it well that he should no better comply with a man unto whom he was so much obliged, and unto whom he might attribute the name of his Protector, he acquitted himself of his promise made unto Meliantes, in desiring Hydaspes with all affectionate persuasions, to think no more upon Arpasia, but to yield her unto his Rival. Sir (said Hydaspes) I most humbly beseech you, do not command me peremptorily, lest I should shame myself in my disobedience. But Sir, to testify how I respect the 〈…〉 end of the illustrious Cyrus in the person of my Rival, I will promise, that if Arpasia make choice of him, and reject me, I will never disturb his enjoyment of her, but will sooner resolve upon death, than molest a man who hath had the glory o● doing you such considerable service, and hath obtained your friendship.  
Since you believe that Arpasia will prefer you before Meliantes (replied Cyrus) you will in this do nothing which will oblige me. Alas Sir (replied Hydaspes) I am much less happy than you do imagine: For since my Rival hath delivered Arpasia from the hands of Licander, he hath gotten so much of her heart, that I know not which of us hath the greatest share. Since it is to (said Cyrus) me thinks you may the more easily yield him your half; for I cannot conceive there is any great happiness to be found in the enjoyment of a divided heart.  
However it be, Sir, (replied Hydaspes) I shall lose that satisfaction which I have, and which I cannot voluntarily yield. Since it is so (said Cyrus) the Princess Mandana shall take the pains to negotiate the matter with the fair Arpasia: For I should be exceeding sorry, if any misfortunes should befall unto two men who are so dear unto me. After this, Cyrus went immediately unto Mandana, and entreated her to speak with Arpasia, to the end some course might speedily be taken in the business, lest these two Rivals should quarrel about her. Yet first he would talk with Gabrias; who having given unto Cyrus all the power he had over his Daughter, he enabled that Prince to do an act of Justice between these two men whom he exceedingly loved.  
In the mean time, Mandana talked with Arpasia in private: and telling her the state of things, also how she was the Mistress of her own destiny, she was at a strange Dilemma. At the first she said that she would refer herself unto the disposition of her Father. But Mandana being very importunate with her to explain herself clearly, she was more puzzled: For truly Madam (said she, being resolved to t●ll her plainly) I cannot give you any answer, all I can say, is to acquaint you in two words with the condition of my soul, to the end you may, though I cannot well without a blush, that my first inclination was towards Meliantes and that I esteemed him, and was as tender towards him as possibly one could be: I must confess also, that I was infinitely beholding to him, insomuch as but for him I had married a man whom I did most horridly hate, and should have been consequently the most miserable person upon Earth.  
I must further confess, that I was not sorry he did love me at Alfenes, and that had I never heard of his infidelity unto me, whose name was Argelise; I had loved him again as he desired to be; but for all this Madam, I must also tell you, that being fully resolved to be only upon terms of friendship with Meliantes, I came afterwards acquainted with Hydaspes, whose humour and disposition I found so agreeable unto my own, as at the first I believed there would be a great affection betwixt us: And I must tell you more than ever I did him, that my secret design of dis-engaging my heart from Meliantes, did make me receive the Love of Hydaspes, sooner than otherwise I had done, so as not to dissemble with you, I did did permit him to hope, and a while after promised him my Love: Since this Madam, there hath happened many strange revolutions, and not to insist upon any but the last, I will tell you Madam, that notwithstanding all my coldness to Meliantes, he came disguised unto the Tents Royal, and was so generous as to hazard his life in being the death of my last Ravisher, and I may truly say Madam, that in kill Lycander, he hath received part of that affection which formerly I had unto him; so as I am now in the most peplexed condition in the World. For I know, that none can be more perfectly loved than I am both by Meliantes and by Hydaspes. The first of which hath done me the most considerable service, and the second hath the Engagement of my promise, which I am not able to keep unless I be ungrateful unto Meliantes, nor can I bestow myself unto Meliantes, unless I be perfidious unto Hydaspes.  
Thus can I give myself unto neither of these two, unless I should grieve for him whose I am not. And I am so unresolved what to do, that doubtless, I should repent it, if I should make my choice of either. For truly, I do no sooner entertain an advantageous thought of Hydaspes, but presently I have another which blasts it: And therefore Madam, to be sincere with you, I am not able to make him whom I shall choose, or myself happy, in my choice.  
After th●s, Mandana endeavoured to discover whether all this proceeded from the reality of her mind, and indeed she did so plainly find that it was so, as she could not choose but wonder.  
But the great difficulty was, to make Arpasia consent that her thoughts should be made known unto Meliantes and Hydaspes, yet resolve upon it, she must: For after Mandana had given an account unto Cyrus and Gabrias of her conference; they could find out no better course, then to tell both Meliantes and Hydaspes ingeniously how the case stood. So as sending for them both, Mandana did so discreetly acquaint them with Arpasias' mind, and carried the matter with such artifice, as she almost infused an equal desire in them both, to yield her unto one another by the impossibility which she made them see in making either themselves or her happy; yet they could not resolve it so upon a sudden, but desired two things. The one, that Arpasia would in their presence confirm all that the Princess Mandana had told them, that they might see there was no possibility of changing her mind The other, that they might have time given them until the next day before they gave their answer. Their demands were granted, and Arpasia was brought unto them, though much against her will: But when they saw her, they found all that Mandana told them so exactly true, that they equally thought themselves most miserable, yet Meliantes less than Hydaspes: For after an absolute despair, he found some sweetness, in seeing that he had made some Entrance into Arpasias' heart, since he had gotten half of it from his Rival, yet this partition was a great affliction unto him as well as unto Hydaspes, and they were in a hundred minds, to give over all thoughts of a person who could not tell what to resolve upon: And thus they passed away that night in a restless perplexity.  
However, Meliantes being as generous as amorous, the very thought that Hidaspes would still be in a corner of Arpasias' heart, though he should marry her; he was in a mind to quench his flames, but since generosity told him it was against the hair to yield her unto his Rival, he was resolved not to do it, when one came to tell him that Cyrus was very desirous to speak with him, and stayed for him in Mandana's chamber, He remembering his promise of giving an answer, did think it was that for which he sent for him; but he was much surprised when in entering into the the Chamber of that Princess, where there was only Cyrus and the King of Hyrcania, and he heard Mandana say that she had such good news to tell him, as she desired none should acquaint him with it but herself: For Meliantes (said she unto him) you are Son unto a King, and to a King who was the first friend of Cyrus when he begun the War: But the worst is, that in giving a Crown you must lose a mistress; for the King your Father before whom I speak hath acquainted me, that according to the Laws of his Kingdom it is not lawfnll for the successor unto that Kingdom to marry a stranger Princess. Madam (replied Meliantes, much amazed) what you are pleased to tell is so far from any probability that not daring but to believe your words, I must needs think I have not rightly understood them: No, no (replied the King of Hyrcania) neither the Princess Mandana nor you are mistaken; for you are really my son, though you do not know it. And to testify that I do know all that ever you have done, since you left the name of Clidaris and assumed that of Meliantes, I must tell you that you were brought up in a Province of Assyria, that you were believed to be Son unto a man of quality there, that you thought Cleonide was your sister, and that you have traveled all Greece.  
In the mean time those from whom you thought you had your birth, were only the confidents of my marriage with a person whom I espoused secretly during the Life of my Father, and who died presently after you were born: But I beseech you Sir (said Cyrus and intterrupted him) what is the reason, why after the death of the late King of Hyrcania, you did not declare your marriage & recall home the Prince your Son? The reason of it was Sir, (replied he) that having consulted with the Oracle of Jupiter Belus in Babylon concerning the birth of my son. I was answered that if I did not conceal his quality, until he had taken the greatest Prince upon Earth Prisoner he should become the most miserable man in the world, and if on the contrary I did not divulge it until he was master of a Prince's destiny who had the destiny of all Asia in his hands, he should be able to cure himself of a passion which then would torment him, and afterwards be very happy all the rest of his days. So in obedience to the Gods, I sent my son to travel into Greece, in expectation of their promises which now are accomplished, since my Son hath had the Glory to see the illustrious Cyrus his prisoner: So as also the man who did educate him, and when the men who did educate him, and when he believed me to be his Father being come hither to tell me he understood that my son under the name of Meliantes was in the Party of Thomyris, and that he thought it fit to avert him from it, I therefore do know of infallible certainty that Meliantes is my son: But since under that name he hath had the Glory of doing some service unto so great a Prince, I would not have him own any other.  
As long as the King of Hyrcania spoke, Meliantes had many different thoughts sometimes he was glad that his birth was as great as his heart, and sometimes when he thought his condition would blast his pretensions unto Arpasia, he was sad.  
Thus Love and Ambition struggling in his heart all the while the King of Hyrcania spoke, he knew not whether he should be sad or glad. But as soon as that Prince had done speaking. Nature beginning to prevail with his Soul, he rendered unto the King his Father all possible reverence in the presence of Cyrus and Mandana.  
After which, the King of Hyrcania by the permission of Cyrus, caused the man whom Meliantes thought to be his Father, to enter, who confirmed all that he had said. So as it being out of all question, the King of Hyrcania told Meliantes he was very sorry that the Laws of his Kingdom were against the Laws of his Love; but for all that, he hoped that a Crown would comfort him for the loss of Arpasia. So that without requiring any precise answer, but supposing that he would conform himself to the Law, he told Cyrus in a low voice, that he was very impatient, until Meliantes was known unto the world for whom he was, hoping that the Compliments and Addresses which would be made unto him upon the advantageous alteration of his condition would wine its mind from its ordinary object, and hinder him from excessive grief at his loss of Arpasia. So Cyrus beseeching Mandana to let the people enter into her Chamber, the happy adventure of Meliantes was quickly divulged: For the Prince Mazares, Artamus, Intaphernes, Atergatis, and many others came in, and were informed of it. Yet Meliantes, as soon as he could disengage himself from the company, and being prieked on by his passion, he went unto the Tent where Arpasia was, who knew already who he was; for Martesia had sent to tell it unto Niside, who told her: therefore she received him as son unto the King of Hyrcania, to wit, with much more ceremony, and reverence.  
But Meliantes at first perceiving it: No no, Madam (said he unto her) I beseech you do not change your way of behaviour unto me: For if you please, Meliantes will be the very same he was yesterday, since Fortune will needs have it so, that he cannot be both son unto the King of Hyrcania, and Husband unto the fair Arpasia. After this, Meliantes acquainting her how the case stood, he protested that if she would give him her whole heart, he would with joy renounce all pretensions unto the Crown of Hyrcania, and would esteem himself much more happy in reigning there, than in a great Kingdom: But Madam (said he most passionately) you must do it in all sincerity and Justice: and consider, that Hydaspes perhaps would not quit a Crown to enjoy you.  
Arpasia was now much moved at the expressions of Meliantes: But being both full of generosity and sincerity, she thought it not fit to dissemble her thoughts, nor to let a Prince so generous lose a Crown, since she saw it as great a difficulty for her to disoblige Hidaspes, as him. But though she was as sweet in her expressions as possible, as possible, yet he thought himself so wronged, that all these testimonies of his Love should not oblige her whole heart, that he protested he would never pretend more unto her; and that he would do all that ever he could to make ambition supply the place of his love, and would never affect any thing but glory, since he could never affect any but her, and since he could not obtain her Love: And accordingly, he went from her in this mind: and meeting Hidaspes by the way, he told him that he would yield Arpasia unto him; and assured him, that though he could never cease being his Rival, yet he would cease all pretensions unto the enjoyment of his Mistress. Hidaspes received this Declaration with so much joy, that Meliantes began to repent: but the anger of his soul coming into his relief, he did not change his mind; but on the contrary was so confirmed, that he hoped with time to cure himself of his passion, and withdraw his heart from one, who could give him but half of hers.  
In the mean time, Cyrus had his shires in the inquietudes of Meliantes, though he did not show it: For the Hyrcanian law, which did forbid the sons of their Kings to marry strange Princesses, was also the Law of the Cappadocians: so as Mandana, as Queen of that Kingdom, could not marry Cyrus. Yet this Prince did conceal his sorrows, and would believe, that as Ciaxares might deny the Princess his daughter as Qu: of Cappadocia, yet he might give her to him as Princess of Media only. Not that this obstacle was new unto this Prince; but he had so many other more weighty, that he never thought of it, until the King of Hyrcania did mention the Law of his Kingdom, and until Mandana told. Meliantes, that in gaining a Crown, he must lose a Mistress. However, he dissembled his inquietudes, and appeared the next day as pleasant, as possible.  
In the mean time, Mandana having a great desire to be on the other side of Araxes, she entreated all the rest of the princesses to rise betimes, so as they went so early, that the Troops could not follow them: But after they had passed over Araxes, and the Army also, the wise Anacharsis who had waited upon Cyrus so far, did take his leave of him, and carried In●●thyrses away with him. ●●esiphiles, Cherseas, and Diocles accompanied him, and continued their Travels, as they began.  
But this wise Scythian, at parting from Cyrus and Mandana, did give them such high Eulogies, as they had great reason to be as well satisfied with him, as he with them. As for Indathyrses, he left Cyrus much against his will, as well as the fair Telegenes: and had he thought she could have left Armenia, to go into the Country of the Sauromates, he would not have parted so soon: but he chose rather to cure himself of a growing passion by absence, than vainly augmenting it by his stay.  
In the mean time, Cyrus and Mandana continued on their journey; but out of prudence, he would not let the King of Hyrcania go unto Ecbatane, for it was apparent, that Meliantes had need to be far from Arpasia, to quench his flames. So as Cyrus making that his pretence, he moved the King of Hyrcania to go into his own Kingdom with the Troops which he brought: And in parting from Meliantes, he gave him such high applauds, inducing him to love glory only, as he had good reason to be well satisfied. Mandana also testified so much esteem of him, and so did all the Princesses and Princes which followed Cyrus, that he had all the reason in the world to be infinitely satisfied. But his greatest satisfaction was to see, that Arpasia at parting did look so sadly, that Hydaspes was angry at it.  
Thus he departed with all the glory that he deserved, and with as much satisfaction as his mind was capable of: For though Arpasia was infinitely amiable, yet every one murmured against her; and though Hydaspes was a man of as excellent parts as any in the world, yet they thought she was injurious in not giving her whole heart unto Meliantes.  
However, when Mandana came near Media, Cyrus sent Orders unto Arianita and all the rest of the women whom he had left with Lycaste, to be at Ecbatane. And that day they entered upon the Frontiers of Medea, Harpagus, and Pactias, who were gone unto Mytelene after the siege of Cumes, because the first durst not show his face unto Cyrus, and the other unto the King of Lydia, they now returned; and addressing themselves unto Hydaspes they informed him, that in their design of travelling, they embarked in a ship which a tempest had driven into Mytilene, and that they went afterwards into the Isle of Crete, so famous for the wonderful Labyrinth which is there to be seen: That being there, the shop in which those whom the Prince of Phoceus and Bomilcar had sent unto Cyrus, did there land: So as understanding that they had Letters from that Prince, and were going into a Country which was commended for its beauty, they followed them and came to Marseilles, where they saw the admirable Cleonisbe, and were present at her Marriage with the Prince of Phoceus, of whom they spoke all Imaginable good: Adding that not being able to live longer out of their own Country, they implored the assistance of Cleonisbe and that Prince; who being glad to meet with an occasion of thanking Cyrus for the happiness which they enjoyed, had writ a Letter of thanks unto him; and in it beseeched him to pardon Harpagu●, and to mediate Croesus for a pardon of Pactias. So as Hydaspes taking upon him that business, he spoke unto Cyrus, who not being able to deny any thing in a time when fortune gave him all things he could hope for, he consented that Hidaspes should present Harpagus unto him, and desired Croesus to pardon Pactias: This Prince being extreme glad to hear by them that the admirable Cleonisbe and the valiant Prince of Phoceus were happy together, though he was very sorry this case was not so with the generous Bomilcar.  
Afterwards Cyrus took all requisite order for Mandana's arrival in Ecbatane, in an Equipage proportionable to her quality: And to that end he rested in a little Town in a Province of Medea, which is called the Province of Sapires. During their stay there, all that Love could invent, which was tender, sweet, and gallant, was used by Cyrus, by Mandana, Intaphernus, the Princess of Bythinia, Atergatis Istrina, and by Myrsiles. As for Doralisa, she followed her old humours, since certainly tender and passionate expressions were not her custom: all that she was able to do, was to let the Prince Myrsiles use them.  
But when all things were ready, both for the Train of Mandana, and the Equipage of Asia's Conqueror and for all the rest of the Princes who followed him: This Hero leaving all his Army upon the Frontiers, except only five hundred Horse, he advanced towards Ecbatane, where Cyaxares expected them in impatience, proportionable to the joy which he hoped to receive in seeing the Princess his Daughter. But Cyrus and Mandana were pleasingly surprised, when they heard that Cambyses and the Queen his Wife were come unto Ecbatane, the cause of their voyage being unknown unto them.  
In the mean time, the day of their triumphant entrance being come, the sight was both unexpressible and unimmaginable: And though the King of Assyria had prepared a very magnificent Triumph for the reception of Mandana into Babylon, when the Prince Mazares by that King's orders presented her with the keys of it; yet it was nothing in comparison of this. The truth is, the Prince Mazares did not contribute any thing unto it; for he made no preparations for it, because he remembered that it was at such a Ceremony that he lost his liberty: So as looking upon Mandana that morning when she had dressed herself; Take heed, Madam (said he unto her) lest you should this day make some other as miserable as myself: For you may remember it was at such a Ceremony that I had the misfortune to fall in love with you: I was so sad and miserable that day (replied Mandana and smiled) as it was no wonder your compassion of my misfortunes should mollify your heart: But since I am this day in a happy condition, I need not fear any such adventure will befell me: And if I have any cause of fear, it is to lose your friendship: Oh Madam! (said Mazares and sighed) did you but know my heart, you would see there was greater danger of my losing yours, than you mine: and yet I assure you Madam, you cannot deprive me of your friendship, unless you be unjust. Then I shall never take away mine (replied Mandana) for it is not my custom to be unjust: so that as long as you keep yourself as you are, I shall be sure to be the same I am, and will never change, unless you do.  
Your expressions Madam (replied Mazares) ought to be received with fullness of joy: and though it do not appear in my eyes, yet my heart is most sensible of it: But Madam, I beseech you pardon an unvoluntary melancholy which perhaps will appear in my face against my will, since it is the only thing which you shall ever have any cause to chide me for: Since it is so (replied she) I will pity, in lieu of chiding you, but do not think it strange if I never ask you the cause of your sadness. As Mandana said so, one came to tell her that all things were ready for her departure; and presently after, Onesile, the Princess of Bythinia, Istrina, Arpasia, and Telegenes came into her Chamber, and so dressed, and so fair, as it was evident that joy is a wonderful advantage unto beauty, Yet the Princess of Bythinia was in mourning, but so, that her beauty appeared not a jo● the less.  
As for Mandana, she was never so fair as that day: And when Cyrus came into her Chamber to present his hand unto her, and to conduct her unto her Coach, he was so surprised and dazzled at her beauty, that he stood a long while gazing, and adoring it: For since he had never seen her so dressed, nor so merry, since his departure from Cumes, he thought her more charming than ever, and he was more in Love than ever: and by consequence the disquiet of his soul was the greater, though he did sometimes flatter himself in a belief that it was ill grounded,  
At last all the glorious Train departed; The Ladies all in rich Chariots of Triumph, and all the Princes on most excellent Horses, and there was not the meanest servant who had not some marks of his Master's magnificence. When they were within two hundred furlongs of Ecbatane, Ciaxares and Cambyses met them in the head of all the Persians and Medes of quality who followed them, and stayed for them close by a triumphant Arch which they had erected unto the glory of Asia's Conqueror, and Mandana's deliverer, where the Inscriptions and paintings were so ingenuous, as they extolled and represented all the victories of that Prince. But Cyrus being as modest as valiant, he would not pass under this Arch, which they had erected unto his glory, but left that honour unto Mandana as the true cause of all his Conquests.  
This interview had all the circumstances which could possibly render it delightful; for there appeared so much joy in the Countenances of Ciaxares and Cambyses, when they saw Cyrus and Mandana; and Cyrus and Mandana were so glad to see them, as they did communicate the same unto all that saw them, so as never was such acclamations upon Earth as then. But being impatient to be in a place where they might talk, they went towards Ecbatane; and all the way there were still new marks of magnificence to be seen either in the troops which were ranked on the right & left hand, or in other triumphant Arches erected to the glory of Cyrus and Mandana, or in the infinite number of men of all qualities, who came far and near to meet them with Garlands and Crowns of flowers which they presented unto them and cast at their feet in homage to them  
At the Gates of the town stood all the Magistrates who made Orations to them: Likewise at the Gates of the Temple were all the Magis of Ecbatane, ready to offer sacrifices of Thanks unto the Gods.  
But as soon as all these Kings, these Princes, these Princesses, and men of quality had taken those places in the Temple which were assigned for them, the same accident which happened in the time of Astyages, did now happen again: For the Temple did shake, the Lamps extinguished, all except one over the head of Cyrus, which burned so clear and full of Lustare, as if all the rest had united their lights unto it.  
At the same time also, for a quarter of an hour together, was a noise heard in the vaults of the Temple which resembled thunder, and the roaring of the sea, and which struck fear into the souls of all that heard it. This prodigy did amaze all the assembly; the Magis themselves all except one were were affrighted and so were all except Cyrus, in whose countenance was not the least semblance of fear. When they offered to begin the sacrifice, they could not end it, for all the victims escaped from those who held them, and the Sacrificers assured Ciaxares, and Cambyses that of necessity they must defer it till another time, and appear the Gods unto whom they would sacrifice.  
As for Cambyses, he did imagine according to the Religion of his Country, that if the Gods were angry, that men should be so bold as to adore them in Temples built with profane hands. But as for the Magis, that there was something of importance which the Gods would make known unto them by it.  
The chief of them who was he which was least amazed, did very well remember the interpretation which was formerly given upon those Lamps which redoubled their light over the head of the Queen of Persia: Sa as imagining that the Gods required this accomplishment of that prediction, he told Ciaxares that he must retire unto his Palace, and that he must give him time to observe the stars, and turn over his books, and to penetrate into the secrets of the Gods; and accordinly all this great company went out of the Temple into the Palace; but this was sadly resented by the Queen of Persia, and every one talked of this prodigy according to their several fancies. As for Ciaxares who was most perplexed his reason why the Gods were so angry, was, because he would marry his Daughter against the Laws of the Cappadocean Kingdom, which would not have her marry a stranger Prince So that not being able to keep his fears within the compass of his own heart he told them unto very many, and they became so public that they were the common talk, and they made such deep impression upon the mind of Ciaxares that he sent Aglatidas unto Babylon in his name to consult with the Oracle of Jupiter Belus. But in the Interim of this voyage, and whilst the Magis were consulting with the stars and their books; Cyrus was extremely troubled, and Mandana for all her prudence could not choose but be very melanchollick. Is it possible (said she unto Martesia) that the destiny of Cyrus should be yet doubtful? can it be that after be hath been imprisoned at Synope for the Love of me, After he hath saved the life of the King my Father in the war against the late King of Pontus, after he hath won two battles in one day, after he had gloriously ended that War, by bringing that King into captivity: After he hath beaten the King of Assyria, taken Babylon, surprised Synope, subdued Armenia, won the battle of Thyburra against Croesus, taken Sardis, put the King of Pontus to flight, after he had delivered me by taking Cumes: after he has vanquished Thomyris and Ariantes, and gloriously brought me home to Ecbatana. Can Cyrus I say, doubt of a recompense for all his Conquests and Travels? he who above all this hath been thought twice to be dead, who was mangled almost in pieces after the combat of two hundred, who has received several most dangerous wounds besides in several Encounters, who hath been prisoner both of War, and State for the Love of me, and who hath given me a million of testimonies of his Love, must he be now slighted? whilst Mandana was thus complaining, and whilst Martesia was comforting her, all the town were at their prayers to appease the Gods.  
But at last Aglatidas returned from Babylon, who after he had consulted with the Oracle in the name of Ciaxares, whether he might give his Daughter unto Cyrus, since he was a Persian, and since the Cappadocian Laws did prohibit that Princess to marry a stranger, he was returned this answer.  

The Oracle ☞  
Out of your thoughts expel  
All fears of any danger.  
Who can all Asia quell,  
In no place is a stranger.   
This favourable answer did so rejoice the hearts of Ciaxares, Cambyses, the Queen of Persia, Cyrus, Mandana, and all that heard it; that it may be termed a public joy; especially because it concurred with the Dooms of the Magis, who rendered an account unto Ciaxares, and Cambyses of all their observations before all the Princes in the Court: For the chief of the Magis addressing his speech unto the two Kings, told them a thing which made him the more wonderful, because it concurred with the secret thoughts of their own souls, although they did not impart them unto any.  
Sirs (said he unto them) upon a recollection into my memory of things past; and when I think upon that prodigy which happened, when the Lights of several Lamps united themselves unto that which was over the head of the Queen of Persia; after I say a comparison of that with this which we have seen over the head of the illustrious Cyrus: I examined the interpretation which was then upon it; I have consulted with the most learned books we have, I have seriously observed the stars, I have so clearly read in Characters of Gold, and light, the will of the Gods, that I cannot make any more doubt of it.  
And sirs (continued he and looked upon Ciaxares and Cambyses) that which the Gods do require of you is, that you refer the the whole cares of your kingdoms upon the Government of the invincible Cyrus, and that you leaving off sovereign authority, he may be the sole sovereign over all Asia, so many Kings as he hath subdued, do teach us that the Gods would have all obey him, and this is the interpretation of all the Lights extinguishing and reuniting again in one over the head of Cyrus, as those were heretofore over the head of the Queen his Mother: yes, sirs I dare assure you, that if you do, as I now say, you will satisfy the Will of the Gods, your sacrifices will be acceptable unto them, and you will see no more prodigies to astonish you.  
But on the contrary, you will peaceably enjoy all the pleasures of Life under the shadow of Cyrus his palms and Trophies, you will reign in his person, and without your being his Subjects, he may yet be the sole Sovereign over all Asia.  
Conform yourselves therefore unto the Will of Heaven: And that you may both conjunctly reign in the person of this great Prince, make up the marriage immediately between Mandana and him.  
This Magis had no sooner done speaking, but Ciaxares and Cambyses declared their will, unto him, and told him that they were ready to conform themsesves unto the will of the Gods.  
The modesty of Cyrus was such, that he refused to accept the sovereign power, which the Kings would have yielded up unto him; but they were so urgent upon him, and the Magis told him so peremptorily that the Gods would have it so, as without any more delay Ciaxares and Cambyses made a public declaration the next day by which they made it known unto all the world that they did voluntarily invest their authorities in the hands of Cyrus, and accordingly the chief of the Magis in Ecbatane in the Presence of all the court, and in the midst of as many people as that Temple was able to hold, did invest him with all the ceremonies and signs of Sovereign Authority, that is to say, with a Sceptre, a Royal wreath, and all other things which distinguish the Kings of Persia, and the Kings of Medes from other Princes. Ciaxares would have thrown at his feet as many Crowns as he had conquered Kingdoms, and made Tributary Kings: But Cyrus would not have it so, not only out of modesty, but in consideration of Croesus and Myrsiles, whom he highly esteemed and ranked as his friends. The most observable was, that the Sacrifice which was offered after Cyrus was declared King, was very acceptably received: And the Magis assured Cyaxares and Cambyses, that the Gods whom they adored, were never better pleased.  
But after this magnificent Ceremony was accomplished, Cyrus had a most impatient desire to see Mandana, that he might offer unto her all the Crowns which he had taken upon him: And dis-engaging himself as soon as he could, he went unto her to tender that Homage, and to assure her that he thought himself more glorious in being her Slave, than in being Master of so many Kingdoms.  
In the mean time, the day of Marriage being set down, nothing was thought upon but preparations for that glorious Ceremony: And Cyrus being a most dear lover of his friends, he thought also of their satisfaction. Therefore he persuaded the Princess of Bythinia, who had full power over herself, to make Intaphernes happy: As for Gadates; he did voluntarily consent unto it: And Cyrus after that persuaded that Prince to give Istrina unto Atergatis. As for Arpasia, she was in a strange condition: For she did so resent the absence of Meliantes, that Hydaspes was hardly pleased: and she was in many minds to recall Meliantes thought, at the rate of Hydaspes his banishment: and yet she was resolved to marry him, because Gabrias her Father did so command her: But certain it is, she had much ado to carry herself between her love, and her friendship, since she neither made herself, nor any of her friends happy, for Hydaspes was but half contented, after he had married her.  
But when Cyrus went about to satisfy the love of the Prince Myrsiles, he found himself a little puzzled, not that Croesus was against the affection of the Prince his son: For though the quality of Doralisa was inferior unto that Prince, yet considering the state of things he did not insist upon it: But the main difficulty was, how Myrsiles should be assured of her Love before he married her; for Doralisa would never confess it, though those who knew her best, believed that she did not hate Myrsiles. However, she spoke always either so lightly, or so sharply, or so negligently of it, that none knew well what to think; and which was rare, Cyrus did sooner persuade her to marry Myrsiles, than he could persuade her to confess that she loved him: but after she was resolved upon it, she did this favour unto that Prince in a very pleasant manner: For (said she unto him) I know not why you should complain Sir. 'Tis true, I tell you that I do only esteem you, but it is not that I do no more; but the reason is, because I want words to express the thoughts of my heart, and therefore I had rather have you guests at my mind, than downright tell you what it is.  
But at last, after the modesty, and humour of Doralisa together, had made her say yes, and no, unto all the propositions which were made unto her, whether she would marry or not marry; at last she explained herself that she consented to marry the prince Myrsiles: And these four marriages being resolved upon, it was also resolved that they should be solemnised three days after that of Cyrus, to the end that the joys of that Court might the longer continue: And certainly that Court was the most glorious that ever was seen, for there were not a man nor woman of any quality in all Medea who was not there. The lovely Amistris also had quitted the solitude wherein she lived, during the absence of her dear Aglatidas, and came to Ecbatane, whereof she was still one of the greatest Ornaments.  
But the day designed for the complete felicity of Cyrus being come, the Temple where the Ceremony of his Marriage was to be celebrated, was illuminated with a thousand glorious Lamps: All the streets of Ecbatane were hung with rich Sydonian Tapestry, Arches, Pyramids, Obelisques, and Garlands were erected and hung up to the glory of Cyrus and Mandana, all between the Palace and the Temple, whose Inscriptions being a mixture of Love and War, did emblem as well the grandeur of his passion, as the grandeur of his Conquests. Most admirable Music made the Roof of the Temple echo all the while of the Ceremony: Never were seen so many Kings and Princes in one place, us 〈◊〉 that: and never did a Royal Chaplet become any head so well, as that of Cyrus.  
As for Mandana, the Majesty of her deportment was such, as would have been an Ornament unto the whole World: And her beauty appeared so splendent that day, as she eclipsed all the rest of the Ladies, as much as the deportment, the spirit, the valour, and the virtue of Cyrus did surpass the merits of all other men upon earth. Both of them were the objects of admiration unto all 〈◊〉 who be held them upon that stately Throne which was erected in the middle of the Temple: Yet this Ceremony was not honoured with the presence of the Prince Mazares; for he finding his soul not resolute enough to behold the felicity of his Rival, he returned into his own Country the night before the Marriage of Cyrus: but before he went, he left one Letter for Cyrus, and another for Mandana, in which he used such noble expressions of himself, as did so double the esteem which they had of him, that could he have seen their thoughts, he had been well satisfied. Indeed he did very well deserve their esteem; for he asked them pardon for his weakness, he assured Mandana that he would never ●●rry; he told Cyrus, that since he was never like to have an Heir, he intended that all his Subjects hereafter should become his, to the end Mandana might reign over the Saces, as well as in his heart.  
Yet their sorrows for the departure of Mazares did not hinder, but that they esteemed themselves infinitely happy, in that the Gods had made their Fortune's inseparable, and that they had tied such an indissolvable knot, which nothing but death could untie. The three days after this great Ceremony were spent in Feasts and Jollity: and the fourth was the Marriage of Myrsiles, Intaphernes, Atergatis, and Hidaspes celebrated, and for a whole month after, there was nothing but public rejoicings, and diversions in this great Court.  
Cyrus had then information that Thomyris was returned unto the Tents Royal, and that Agathyrses had possessed himself of Issidon, whilst Thomyris was so sunk in sorrow, that all the Massagettans were preparing to disenthrone her, and that Elibesis was become a Subject unto him, unto whom she had been unfaithful, in hopes of being a Queen.  
After this, Cyrus received Deputations from all the Kingdoms which he had Conquered: from all the principal Cities which were under his obedience, and from all the Princes who were his Tributaries; from Babylon, from Susa, from Sardis, Ephesus Cumes, Sinope, Themiseire, Artaxates, Apamea, Gnide, & mothers, he received Homage. Those who were risen against Arsamones, sent also their Deputies to offer unto him the Crowns of Pontus and Bythinia: Also he had particular Deputies from Heraclea and Chrysopolis. The King of Phrygia sent unto him his Ambassadors with rich Presents: The Queen Tarina, Mother of Mazares did the like: The Prince of Cilicia as much; the King of Armenia the same: The Prince Philoxipe also sent to rejoice with Cyrus, that the Ora 〈…〉 which the Princess of Salamis had received, was so happily accomplished in his person.  
Amasis' King of Egypt, the Prince Sesostris his son, and the fair Thimarette sent to congratulate his Marriage: The Prince Thrasibulus sent his Compliments: The King of Hyrcania, and the Prince Meliantes did the like. Pittacus as much, and all the Sages of Greece writ unto him to testify their joy, that Fortune had done justice to his virtue.  
After all this, Cambyses and the Queen his wife returned unto Persepolis, where they did nothing but devote themselves unto prayers unto the Gods, though Cyrus commanded A●asius whom he sent to command in Persia, to take their Counsels in all things. Tygranes and Onesile returned unto Artaxates, admiring the virtue both of Cyrus and Mandana: Silamis their Kinsman followed them. Intaphernes with the Princess of Bythinia went unto Chrisipolis with the quality of a tributary King. Atergatis and Istrina followed, Gadates, Hidaspes, and Arpasia went with Gabrias. The Prince Artamas returned unto his dear Palmis: Croesus, Myrsiles, and Doralisa stayed in the Court of Cyrus: The Prince of Paphlagonia married Telegene, and returned into his Country. Chrisantes had the government of Lydia, Aglatidas that of Babylon, Ligdamis that of Ephesus, and returned towards his dear Cleonice: Araspes that of Cappadocia: Thrasimides' that o● Curia, for th● Curians did voluntarily submit themselves unto Cyrus: Feraulas he waited still about his person, and married Martesia a while after: Megabise was sent into part of Arabia, which gave itself up unto Cyrus: And this great Prince was so well able to recompense out of the greatness of his Conquests, that there was not one of those who had done him any service, which were not fully satisfied with his liberally. Ciaxares himself was well contented to be without Sovereign power, though such an act is seldom unaccompanied with repentance  
Thus, this greatest Prince in the World, after he had been the most miserable o 〈…〉 all L3370overs, became now the happiest man upon Earth: For he was the possessor 〈…〉 the greatest Beauty in all Asia, of the most virtuous person in the whole World, and a person whose great soul transcended the excellency of her beauty, and one who loved him, as well as he loved her. Moreover, his Dominions were bounded on the East with the Red Sea: On the West with the Isle of Cyprus and Egypt: On the North with the Euxine sea, and on the South by Ethiopia. Again, he had the advantage to see himself Master of all the Treasures of David, Solomon, and Croesus, and he saw himself at a higher pitch of glory than ever any other Prince did. Also he enjoyed his pleasures with so much Art, that passing away his Autumns at Ecbatane, his Winters at Babylon, his Summers at Susa, it was an eternal Spring unto him without the inconveniency either of too much cold, or too much heat. Moreover, this great Prince did with abundance of glory settle such orders in his Dominions, and established such excellent Laws both for War and Peace, that he merits to be proposed as a model for all ensuing Princes to imitate. And to complete his felicity, the Heavens did not molest him with the least misfortune all the rest of his life: And let both Fortune and Love conspire together to make a man as happy as ever they could, it was impossible they could make him more happy than Cyrus was, ever since the day that he ascended so high a Throne, that all others on the Earth were much below him.    
The end of the Tenth and last Part of Cyrus' legrand. FINIS.